In this story, the plot of both the character's Druella and Walburga is inspired/taken from redrainofroses (Druella) and macvanliepertja (Walburga) on TikTok. It's not all the same as their series, but it is heavily inspired by them so please go and check out their Druella and Walburga series. Thank you :)


- Disclaimer -

I do not own any of the characters in this story so far. I only own the plot - the rest belongs to JK Rowling, despite how much that pains me to say.


TRANS PEOPLE ARE WELCOME HERE. JUST BECAUSE I AM USING JK'S WORK DOES NOT MEAN I SUPPORT HER VIEWS AND OPINIONS. THANK YOU FOR CLICKING ON THIS STORY - I HOPE YOU ENJOY :D


A/N:

I know that Tom Riddle didn't start Hogwarts until 1938 but to fit in this story, I had to change some dates around. It shouldn't change anything but I thought I'd address it before people start asking about it.


Tom Riddle was a puzzle.

Hermione had barely been in the castle for more than a few seconds before she caught sight of him, surrounded by 3 loud, raucous boys - presumably his dormmates. She had been annoyed by how handsome he was, wondering to herself how a 12-year-old boy could have such striking features. Of course, she had known he would be handsome, she had seen Harry's memories enough times to acknowledge that, but she didn't expect him to be anything special at the tender age of 12.

She hadn't stopped staring at him, not even when they were sat down at the House Tables. He was on the opposite of the table, about 6 people down, which gave her the perfect vantage point. When everyone was settled and the conversations settled down, the headmaster stood up and began his speech. The unfamiliar voice shocked Hermione out of her concentrated staring for a moment before she remembered that Dumbledore wasn't headmaster at this point. Instead, it was a man called Armando Dippet.

Almost immediately, Hermione turned back to stare at Riddle. She supposed she should be thankful he hadn't noticed but she couldn't bring herself to care. This boy would grow up to become a monster, both physically and mentally, and yet, she was strangely fascinated by him. Apart from herself, he was the only one not paying attention to Dippet's speech and that intrigued her. From what she remembered, he did everything to seem like the perfect student, having every teacher - except Dumbledore, of course - wrapped around his finger. He was glaring at something he held in his hands but before she could catch a glimpse of it, fingers wrapped around her chin and pulled her face to look at them.

"Look at me when I talk to you, Mudblood! What else did you and your friends take from my vault!"

Hermione blinked and the image of a crazed Bellatrix slowly disappeared, being replaced by the image of her terrified sister. It was only then that she made the connection. Druella was Bellatrix's mum. They even had the same eyes. Looking down, she saw that her wand was stick painfully into her sister's throat, her hand shaking from the hard grip she had on the wooden stick. Eyes widening, she quickly pulled her arm away, tucking her wand back up her sleeve before giving her sister an apologetic look.

Not many people had noticed the scene, but the few who did stared at her in suspicion and a small flicker of fear. There was no doubt that the whole of Slytherin House would know about this by the next morning. Cursing herself, Hermione glared at them in turn until, eventually, they were all turned away from her, giving their full attention back to the sorting. Once they had all stopped looking back at her, she turned back to look at Druella with a half-hearted smile and a half-hearted excuse.

"Sorry about that - you caught me off guard. If you want to get my attention, you should have just said my name or something," She was apologetic for scaring her sister but she couldn't disguise the annoyance in her voice. No one had ever grabbed her chin like that in her whole life - except Bellatrix. So when she felt her chin being grabbed like that again, it had been like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over her, and she was suddenly lying on the floor of Malfoy Manor once again.

Druella quickly got over her temporary fear, narrowing her eyes at Hermione's words. "I did. I said your name directly into your ear. I patted you on the arm multiple times, but you weren't paying attention. Too busy staring at that mudblood, I suppose" The word mudblood was spat venomously, but that wasn't what made Hermione frown. Tom Riddle was a half-blood, and she found herself about to correct her sister when she realised that he must not have found his true lineage yet. Of course, with a muggle last name and being raised in a muggle orphanage, people would assume he was muggleborn. That didn't make anything much better, and she could feel her anger rising.

"Excuse me?" Her voice was an icy whisper, contrasting against her flushed cheeks. "How dare you. I wasn't staring at anyone - and, even if I was, what has his blood got to do with it?" Druella gave a quiet, cruel laugh at that.

"His blood has everything to do with, Hermione. When will you get that? You're a pureblood and you need to start acting like one." The last sentence was said with finality, both of them glaring at each other with cutting eyes. After a few minutes, the feast appeared, and they finally turned away from each other. Hermione was confused and pissed off, the emotions only growing when she saw a 7th year she didn't recognise pat Druella on the shoulder, congratulating her.

Stabbing her roast potatoes, Hermione became distinctly aware that someone was staring at her. Not in the mood to be judge by anyone else, she refused to look up, only stabbing the poor harder as she ignored the burning sensation on her temple. She managed it for a while but, after a few minutes of ignoring the person, who so clearly wanted her to look at them, she gave in. The stabs slowed down, and she shook her head before looking up. Brown eyes met black, and she almost jerked back when she realised who was staring at her but managed to compose herself in time, forcing herself to stare back.

His head tilted minutely, and she suspected that she wouldn't have even noticed if she wasn't staring so intently at him. He seemed amused if the slight curve of his lips were to go by, but he was also interested. Extremely so. She didn't know how long they stared at each other, neither of them moving as they tried to figure the other out. Clearly, he had heard her whispered conversation with Druella and wanted to know why a pureblood witch, who had been raised on blood purity from the moment she had taken her first lungful of air, was defending someone with 'dirty blood'.

At least 10 minutes had passed before she felt something poke into her ribs. It wasn't very painful but it was enough to make her jerk away from whatever was poking, breaking her eye contact with Riddle. Turning back to her sister, she didn't even bother to glare, simply staring at her with an annoyed expression. Druella sighed, pursing her lips as she looked back, raising an eyebrow. The message was clear - stop staring at him, or I'll make another scene.

Hermione gave a barely audible laugh, shaking her head before turning away. Almost immediately, her eyes caught him again, but this time, instead of just seeing the inky black depths of his irises, it was like she was watching a montage of every death he had ever caused or committed. Her face was frozen as she watched person after person fall to the bright green light of the killing curse. It was only when she saw the death of Lily Potter that she blinked.

When she opened her eyes, his eyes were red.

She could feel herself shaking and quickly identified it as a panic attack. She was wrong.

It started with her fingers, spread up her hands and slowly up her arms until her whole body was shaking. Druella's voice was coming from somewhere, sounding concerned, but it was blocked out by a loud roaring within her head. She panicked, looking up at the staff table to see if anyone had noticed what was happening with her. Only one had, and he was half out of his seat by the time she locked eyes with him, alerting her situation to the other teachers. Glad to know that someone was coming to help her, a sudden thought came to her.

Tom Riddle was a natural Legilimens.

Her head whipped around to look at him, expecting to see a small smile spread across his face as he stared at her. She did not expect the shocked expression that greeted her, the shaking increasing as her eyes rolled backwards and everything went black as she felt herself fall, smacking into the stone floor. Several shouts echoed around the hall from different tables, followed by loud chatter as everyone stood up, straining to see what was happening to the 2nd year Slytherin.

Images flew past her fluttering eyes, some she knew and others she didn't, as loud gasping noises came out of her mouth. Even at this moment, Hermione knew she would never live this down, and, if she had any control over her body, she knew her cheeks would be colouring with embarrassment at her situation. Instead, her body was flailing up and down like a fish, causing bursts of pain to flare all over her body as they hit the hard floor.

'Oh just let this all be over,' Hermione thought as she heard several people ask what was wrong with her.

Some higher being must have heard her request because her whole body suddenly seized for a few seconds before dropping back down, slamming her head onto the floor. She barely noticed the pain as she welcomed the comforting darkness that took over her mind.

Would she ever have a normal year at Hogwarts?