Previously: Riddle places a tracking ring on Hermione. Colin gets the box, and overhears that something strange is going on in the forbidden forest. Riddle captures Beeper.


Chapter 9: Sea of Red

A babble of voices increased markedly as Hermione walked down the corridor. To judge by the sound, it seemed the students were engaging in some sort of celebration, as the voices seemed to blend together creating a cacophony of ear-jarring screeching coupled with bursts of laughter.

Following the sounds, she made her way to the great hall. As she entered, her eyes were greeted by a multitude of excitable students. She grinned warily at their enthusiasm. For despite their joy she could not shake the caution she felt. At the last moment Slughorn had invited her to aid in supervising the dueling club, due to the larger than expected volume of students that had signed up to participate. He assured her it was due to her past experience as a healer that led to asking her. Hermione nearly rolled her eyes at that. Slughorn had been attempting to corner her since her inadvertent Quidditch revelations, she suspected that this was just another ploy of his. Not that she minded, as it gave her an opportunity to more carefully observe Riddle. She frowned as she looked around the room looking for some sign of Riddle as well as Beeper.

Soon the cry several students shifted her attention, "Miss G, Miss G! We need your help."

Eyeing the three Ravenclaw students guardedly, she asked, "What happened?"

Jeanine Turtle beater of the Ravenclaw's Quidditch team spoke first. "Our seeker bailed on us."

Hermione mentally groaned. She was certain of what they were about to ask. Though she was not a big fan of divination, not one student ever came to her asking more about tarots or crystal balls. Instead they bombarded her with inane questions, ranging from 'is he/she cheating on me' to lost items to more popularly Quidditch questions. "That's terrible, Miss Turtle."

Before Jeanine could speak any further, Angus McGyver rushed in, "Yeah, we were hopin' you could use your visions and tell us who we should use to replace him."

Hermione looked at the students incredulously, even though she expected this, it never ceased to amaze her. Harry and Ron would have a field day with this she thought wistfully. Ron, her train of thought was derailed momentarily, as she thought of Riddle's words from earlier. Could he be here as well? Suffering in some dank alley. Imprisoned by Riddle. She shuddered, and hoped it another of Riddle's mind games. After a cough alerted her to the still present students, she emerged from her self induced trance and after a moment began to reply, "I-er-

"Iyer? Brilliant! Theo Iyer." Angus cried. Turning to Jeanine who seemed to enthusiastically agree, "Why didn't we think of him earlier. Thanks Miss G." They disappeared among the crowd whispering of the trance their teacher had gone into and how Ravenclaw was a shoe in to win the house cup.

She smilingly shook her head at their antics. Her smile froze when she turned her head to meet the watching eyes of Riddle across the room. On garnering her attention, Riddle's boredom of the entire engagement seemed to have evaporated. A predatory hunger lowered his eyes to half-mast. A muscle twitched around the dimple in his left cheek. Hermione's breath caught, but she stared resolutely back. Why should she lower her eyes when he was making no attempt to lower his?

The battle of wills was cut short when Slughorn appeared, marching onto the dueling stage, trying to gather everyone's attention. As Hermione turned her head to look at him she could not help but think that he appeared dressed for diplomacy, not dueling. His green robes had a silver trim around the neck and cuffs. His blue cloak was held at the neck by a large, round silver buckle that caught the light from the sun shining in through the high windows that ran along the top of one of the walls in the room. From a distance,Slughorn appeared calm and untroubled, with his brown hair resting lightly on his shoulders and his hands clasped behind his back.

As the students settled down, Slughorn began, "Welcome to the first Dueling Club meeting. We hope this to be an enlightening experience to everyone involved. We decided to spend today breaking everyone down into ability groups, to better utilize everyone's time as well as aid in strengthening weakness. I…"

As Slughorn continued his speech, the students began to get restless, grumbling about wasted time. Soon the restlessness began shifting to rowdiness, and Slughorn's speech began to be quickly drowned out. Hermione took out her wand with intent to silence the student, when Riddle stepped onto the stage into the light, his hand raised in a commanding gesture. The hall fell silent. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Even Slughorn stopped speaking and waited in anticipation.

Riddle's eyes roamed over the sea of faces, as if attempting to gauge the mood of the crowd. The crowd itself was filled with curiosity, excitement, self-interest and trepidation. After a moment he spoke, his voice like a striking serpents, "Let me remind you all of how the situation stands. Misbehavior is not tolerated. Speaking out of turn is not tolerated. Firing inexcusable jinxes is not tolerated. Anything I would not approve of will not be tolerated." He paused, before continuing, "Now separate yourself by grade, you have fifteen minutes to warm up. Be sure they are productive." He waved his hand in dismissal.

Although nobody spoke the atmosphere within the hall shifted. Fourth through seventh years divided themselves into the four corners of the room and began to practice various hexes and jinxes.

---

Riddle tirelessly wandered up and down the chamber, looking for signs of talent or weakness or those who would pose challenges to his authority. Nothing he observed gave him real cause for concern. Noting Mirage aiding a few struggling fourth years on how to properly cast an impediment jinx, he smirked as he observed her. Despite what he learned, he could not help but see that beneath the controlled exterior she tried to uphold there was an exuberant, childlike quality about her. She was an enthusiast, reining in her enthusiasm whenever she felt it becoming too pronounced.

Though of course it was perhaps that same enthusiasm that made her so good at what she did; especially in all her schemes and manipulations. He suspected she never did anything with less than her fullest application. Seeing nothing else of interest, he approached her and saw her stiffen. Excusing herself from the group, she raised her eyes to meet his.

Seeing him approach she backed away slightly from him, her eyes alive with uncertainty. He smiled. He was in no hurry and there was nowhere for her to run.

---

Hermione froze as he turned to look at her. His constant perusal made her uncomfortable. She inhaled sharply as she saw his expression. It seemed to toy with her.

She moistened her lips. "Is… something wrong?"

"It could be." His green eyes were glittering recklessly. "But wrong is always the most wicked of delights, isn't it?"

Ignoring his blatant teasing, she responded, "Truth and love will always have the final word."

He chuckled, amused at her self-righteousness, "How poetic of you. Next will you go on spouting the magnificence of truth? Without a doubt, truth is beautiful, but of course so are lies." Seeing her lips open in reply, he placed his finger over her lips in attempts to silence her. "As much as I enjoy our intriguing but pointless philosophical discussion of right and wrong continuing to be so wary of me will be both exhausting and uncomfortable for you. Propinquity brings a certain….acceptance."

"Tolerance," she substituted.

Riddle elegantly arched a brow, "If you wish to be blunt."

"I wish to be blunt." She frowned. "I won't answer any of your questions."

"I wasn't aware I was asking any." Riddle replied.

She cringed, realizing that indeed, he had not uttered a single invasive question. Yet this did not stop her defensive shields from rising. Given his teasing tones, she was certain that he noticed and was enjoying every moment, like a bored deity deriving satisfaction from causing chaos and discomfort in the lives of others.

She could feel tendrils of exhaustion poking at her, threatening to take over. How easy it would be to give in. Her plans to right the past seemed an exercise in futility, she was no closer to accomplishing any of her goals. Her head began to throb. Having enough of the subtle games, she met his eyes in challenge. "What do you want?"

His look was of mirth. "I believe we've been through this before. But nonetheless, what all men desire, no more, no less."

Frustrated at his sidestepping, she bit back, "That's not what I meant at all."

"Then you should say what you mean." He looked away momentarily, scanning the surroundings, before facing her again.

She tried the question again. "What do you want with me?"

Again he gave a wolfish grin, before leaning closer to her and caressingly ran a hand down her arm, "Really, Mira, naivety doesn't suite you. I see our desires intermingling quite satisfactorily. Though with your temper I would guess our union to get quite heated."

Hermione spluttered at his nerve. "No union…never…you'd have to wait forever, because a union between us would never happen."

"Indeed? You'll find I can be very patient- if the prize is worth it." He said softly. His hands wrapped around her waist. Pressing her close to him, he twirled her around, just as a purplish light, from a stray hex, shot past the place she once stood. Releasing her almost immediately, he began striding over to the source of the disruption, his lips tight and his black robes billowing behind him.

Hermione began to walk after him, when Slughorn stopped her. "Good-evening Mirage. It's been quite hectic around here hasn't it?"

Her eyes were still trained on Riddle, who was now speaking to a cowering student. Hearing Slughorn discreetly cough, she turned her focus toward him. "Er-yes, Mr. –"

He graced her with a warm smile, "Mirage, my dear, how many times must I remind you, please call me Horace, after all we are colleagues."

"Very well…Horace." His name felt strange in her mouth, unnatural. Feigning politeness, she returned his smile.

His eyes appraised her. Hermione felt distinctly uncomfortable. "You look very lovely today, your robes are quite reminiscent of the Befuddlement Drought."

She tried to keep from frowning. Her robes today were a scarlet color, several shades different than the Befuddlement Droughts typical purple. Slughorn was acting oddly. A normally pompous and self-assured man, his odd comment and increased perspiration set her on edge. "Thank you, I think."

Fiddling with the silver buckle of his cloak, he added, "I'm quite tickled that you were able to come and aid us. No problems I hope?" At Hermione's negative reply, he continued, "Yes well, Wallace informed me that you are new to this part of England, and that you are quite proficient with various healing potions."

Hermione had high doubts about this, considering that she never had a complete conversation with the deputy headmaster, that did not involve utilizing her 'seer' abilities. "He did? ……… Really?"

Slughorn wrung his hands nervously, "Mmm, indeed. And I was wondering, well, if you would…well.. you probably already know what I'm going to say."

Confusion colored her. Was Slughorn asking her on a date? She shivered, although he was 50 years younger, there was something quite unsettling about such a proposal. If he was asking, she was not going to make it easy for him. "Not in the slightest. Please indulge me."

Plowing forward Slughorn continued, "Yes, well, there is a Wizarding Potion's Gala, this Saturday at Diagon Alley, and ….I would like to know if you would join me."

Hermione hesitated, wondering if this was just some ploy, and if he was actually going to take her to the broom-racing track. Looking at his face again, he seemed sincere. "That sound's –"

Her answer was cut short by the clipped tones of Tom Riddle. His assessment of their conversation dripped in sarcasm. "Fascinating as this conversation may be, I wager the students are ready to be divided into groups. I've already taken the liberty of finding several promising students to oversee each group."

Bewildered at the vicious charge beneath his harmless words, Hermione's eyes ran over his face. A marble mask. Still. Unmoving, but for the slow working of a muscle in his left cheek. As he moved his gaze fromSlughorn to her she felt discomforted at the rage that seeped from it. Fury hot enough to dry the ocean's waters and melt the One Ring, Isildur's Bane. His next few words were coated with acid. "I would appreciate if you would aid me in testing their skills."

Hermione briefly wondered if she imagined Riddle's intense displeasure, as Slughorn seemed unfazed and unrattled. Instead, slightly embarrassed, Slughorn acknowledged Riddle's request. "Oh yes, thank you Tom. Just one moment." Turning to Hermione, he looked at her apologetically, "I suppose we'll continue this conversation later."

She nodded absentmindedly as the two professors strolled toward several waiting seventh years. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she turned to see a Fifth YearHufflepuff, uncontrollably dancing away in front of her. Sighing, she waved her wand and stopped the twirling Hufflepuff.

Suddenly a shout from the other end of the hall made itself heard above the din. Spinning around abruptly, Hermione ran toward the commotion. What she saw made her stomach turn.

Slughorn lay on the ground. Everything around him cast in deep red hues. His hands shook violently, blood spilling past his clothing. As the liquid oozed past the cloth and onto his skin,Slughorn groaned. A sound filled with anguish and horror. His limbs twitching, his body contorted. Curling from a ball and extending his entire body so far in the opposite direction that in the hush of the room everyone could hear his spine crack from the arching motion. Back and forth, over and over his body was wracked with spasms.

Hermione pushing her way through the crowd and kneeled next to Slughorn, waving her wand to stop the bleeding. "What happened?"

Todd Toadstool eagerly volunteered the information. "The professor was showing Jasper how to perform some spells, when a spell backfired."

Seeing Slughorn begin to slip from consciousness, she frantically tried to keep him awake. "What spell was it?"

"A confundus charm hit him. His own wand then went off and the Gryffindor banner fell right on top of him." Another student shouted.

She looked at the professor, who's head lulled blankly in her lap. A rebounded confundus would not have caused such damage. Neither would a fallen banner. She could not stop the affliction if she could know what caused it. The symptoms looked similar to a crucio but more severe. Her eyes darted around the crowd, until they came upon an unconcerned Riddle.

Yet it was something that would have to wait. Conjuring up a stretcher for Slughorn, in a scene she felt has wildly reminiscent of the accident with Dumbledore, she proceeded to take him to the Hospital Wing.

oOo

Hermione paced outside the Hospital Wing, while Madame Parfait cleaned Slughorn of the blood, and other minor injuries. She was thankful that he had stopped shaking. Anxiously waiting to see him, she was startled when a strong arm wrapped itself around her.

"He was a bit clumsy was he not?" Turning her head her eyes meet Riddle's. Clumsiness. She was more certain then ever that what occurred in the great hall, was his doing.

"If by clumsy you mean putting his trust in you. Then I agree. You did this to him." Hermione seethed.

"I have at least thirty witnesses that would say otherwise. It was just an unfortunate accident."

His words rang false to her ears. She could hear with perfect clarity through his sugar-coated sincerity. And she was even more furious with him now, for his duplicity, for pretending, when she knew his true feelings.

As she wiggled away from his grasp a few strands escaped from the plastic clip that help her hair. Grasping several loose curls, Riddle twined them around his fingers. She lifted her head to regard him disbelievingly. "A man almost died, and all you think about is seduction?"

He smiled, showing his even white teeth. "You exaggerate. There is no almost in death. Ah, but seduction….the finest art there is. An art I would derive great pleasure in teaching you more about. I could make it worth your while in so many ways. I know many tricks."

Angry at his casualness, she snapped back. "I'm sure you know tricks I've never even heard of. You're all about trickery, aren't you?"

Silent Riddle moved his hands from her hair and slid them down the length of her neck, the pads of his fingers soft as crushed velvet. She gulped. His hands around her neck, she was certain if he so inclined he could strangle her then and there.

She darted a glance at him from the corner of her eye. His expression was bland, controlled, faintly amused. Yet it was too….. too smooth, as if he were wearing a mask. But he did wear a mask she realized suddenly. She never really knew what he was thinking unless he wished to make it known.

Suddenly he spoke, "We never did finish our conversation from earlier. I have a proposition for you."

His nerve never ceased to amaze her. "And I would be interested because?"

"To decline is not an option." He spoke confidently. "I have a task for you."

She gazed at him curiously. Whatever he may want her to do, would not bode positively for anyone. "Then all the more reason I can decline."

"Perhaps, but I hold something you want, someone. An even trade of sorts." Pausing he looked around. "Our conversation will be continued elsewhere. I will owl you in an hour with the meeting place. You will attend." Withdrawing his hands from her neck he took at step back.

Looking at him she said with irony, "How kind of you to give me such a long time to consider your proposal. Yes, your patience is truly astonishing."

Turning his back to leave, he replied, "My dear, you confuse ability and preference. I never claimed to be patient. I prefer things done yesterday; as my associates could eagerly attest to. Remember one hour."

Hermione watched the swirl of black robes disappear around the corner; her mouth becoming dry and her heart beating erratically. She instinctively knew from his commanding tones to disobey would be folly. She was aware that he expected her to follow his instructions, he knew she would. Placing her hand on her neck to where Riddle's cool touch had lingered, she released a shaky breath. Unavoidable danger. Drowning in an obsessive undercurrent that longed to drag her down to its unfathomable depths. He made it clear, she was his possession, to play, torture and keep until the deadly end.

oOo

Hermione and Colin sat huddled together over an engraved awkwardly shaped box, in the dimly light room of requirement. The room was empty except for some items the time travelers forced the room to conjure up. The gray stone walls echoed with murmured spells and clanging sounds from the occupants.

Hermione felt the deep stir of anxiety well up inside her. She hoped the box could provide some answers, or cure all her current problems. She was to meet Riddle in two hours time, at 11pm, at the staff lounge. Noting the absence of Beeper, she feared the worst.

She glanced over at Colin, who was currently trying to pry the box open using some Muggle contraptions, she debated on how to break the news to him.

"It won't budge." Colin grunted, before wiping the sweat from his brow. "We've tried magic, tools, talking, chanting. Let's face it whatever is in there is not coming out here."

Picking the box up, she turned it over her hands. The Grey Lady had said the box was impenetrable, but not unopenable. She was certain that there had to be someway to open the box. Round and round she twirled the box in her hands. Exasperated, she set it back down on the ground.

"This whole thing is ridiculous. I don't even know why I thought there would be any connection between this key and this box." She pulled the chain that held the Twinkle's key from her neck, and tossed it frustratedly in front of her and stood. "Merlin, Colin, I just don't know anymore.......I don't know what we're going to do."

"Hermione?"

Pacing the heavy stone floor, she continued her ramblings, ignoring Colin's attempts to capture her attention. "The key was supposed to help us with our way home."

"Uh, Hermione?" Colin tried to get her attention again.

"What is it Colin?" She looked at him in confusion.

"The box just ate the key." Hermione blinked, then looked toward the direction Colin was pointing. Sure enough the box was glowing and consuming the remains of what seemed to be the key. Flinging herself toward the the box, she attempted to retrieve the key. Yet, the closer she got the further the box would spin away from her, flipping about haphazardly, and mocking her attempts. She had had enough, lifting her wand she cried out, "Stupefy." The box clattered to the floor.

Hermione and Colin cautiously approached the now still box. Poking it with his wand Colin pronounced, "I think it's dead."

Ignoring Colin, Hermione slowly picked up the box and saw that it was open. A map lay nestled inside.

As she began pulling the map from the box, a pillar of twisting fire erupted. White and gold, blue and red, folding in on itself, its shape ever shifting. Instinctively Hermione put up her hands to shield her face from the fierce heat. A heat she soon realized she could not feel. She could see something in the flames, faces with mouths contorted in silent agony. They spoke words she could not understand. As the firesleapt higher, a burnt hand parted the flames reaching out toward her.

Fingers wrapped around her ankle, shackling her to the ground. Another hand stretched from the fire and attempted to grasp the map that Hermione loosely held in her hands. Looking from the map to the faces she could see what they wanted.

The map was important; she would not give it up. Gazing at the despairing faces, she opened her mouth in an attempt to speak and bargain with them. Yet the words could not escape her mouth, and her leg could not escape the iron grip. Screams filled the air as the hands begin to drag her back into the fire. It took a moment before Hermione realized the screams came from her. Struggling to free herself, she saw the fires receding and felt herself enveloped by a translucent cold. Before she was plunged into darkness, she made out an outline of another face ghostly beautiful, but indistinct. A metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Reaching out with her senses, Hermione attempted to see her surroundings despite the darkness. Knowing within herself if she could see, she could understand.

The darkness was relentless, spinning itself around her, attempting to capture her breath and end her life.

As she began to lose consciousness, a voice permeated through the midnight air. It called her name.

"Hermione- Hermione – are you alright?" Colin's anxious voice penetrated through the foggy mist.

Looking around her, she saw that she was still in the Room of Requirement, the scattered remains of the box a few feet away. "Huh- what? The faces didn't you see them?"

Colin looked at her with concern. "Faces? What fa- Did you see something?"

Rubbing her eyes, she wondered if she had dreamed it all. She surveyed her surrounding one more time, as she searched for evidence of a fire, blood, anything that would show she had not been hallucinating. Hearing a tinkling sound Hermione looked down. Tied to the map she held was the key. Placing the map in front of her, she began to unroll it.

Colin who had been observing her trance-like state, stopped her. Looking at the words written on the front of the map with interest, he asked, "Is that Latin? Hmm, my Latin's a little rusty, but I think it says, 'I catch friends with nets.'"

"What!?" Hermione looked at the the words Colin referred to. "No... Sum in Latin is 'I am'. I am bound to .." Looking at the text more careful, she translated the rest. "I am bound to the secrets trapped within. 'Sum reus adspecialis irretitus intus.'"

At her final words, the castle shuddered. The wavering walls sent its song of uncertainty down into the doldrums that existed within the fortress' foundation. A gloomy mist pervaded through numerous chambers and tunnels, weaving its way around smooth corners and rushing down sharp drops. Moisture clung to the walls like glistening tears. The weeping waters winding over wilting blue and purple foliage. All glimmers of hope and life hidden by a blanket of moss.

A raspy chuckle resounded throughout one of the larger caverns. Weathered hands tore through the spider's webbing that had encased and preserved his ancient form. Crimson eyes burned bright, their light searing the cold darkness in its path, silencing a cackling chorus of voices battling to make their debut. "Hush, it seems an innocent to the dark tower finally came, to join in revenge's game and free us."

.oOo.


A/N: I have gone back and revised the first four chapters, adding more detail and incorporating suggestions made by my betas and reviewers.

Anyway I want to thank all my reviewers and readers, and hope you enjoyed the chapter.

To my awesome betas SerpentInRed and Hajnalmadar: Thank you for your endless patience and wonderful input… I have no words- just hugs.