CHAPTER TWELVE

The thestral let out an earsplitting screech as the harness was severed and the carriage crashed forward into the ground. Hermione climbed out through the open window of the compartment door and held out her hands, feeling the skeletal equine wrapped in the harness that appeared to be floating on its own. The girl who had been hugging her, Maddy, poked her head out of the compartment window, "What are you doing?"

"I've got to go back!" Hermione said as she tried to mount the thestral, using the harness to guess where its withers were.

The girl's already pale face whitened further, "No! I know who you are! You're a muggle-born! They're killing them! Killing them all! By the Black Lake!"

Hermione finally climbed atop the transparent steed and entwined her fingers in its mane, "Are you sure, Maddy?"

"They, Rosier, Yaxley, Nott - all of them! They took all of them for some kind of 'sacrifice'! The professors will save them! Come back!"

Hermione peered at the castle through welling eyes, "No, he needs me."

Tom skidded to a stop outside the Great Hall and his mouth gaped numbly. The entire hall had been lavishly decorated with greenery to symbolize the new life the school was releasing into the world. There were orchid-shaped glasses, wooden bowls and plates, and mountains of snacks everywhere. There was a tree in the center of the hall ... but, its branches were on fire. Tom staggered forward and heard a crunch beneath his feet.

He lifted up his shoe and saw that he had trodden on the Mirror. It was a historical artifact of the castle that was only shown to the graduates. When a student looked into it, the Mirror would try to guess what career path that witch or wizard was taking. Tom suspected that his followers had something to do with its demise. His brows furrowed as a drop of blood hit the shard of glass.

Tom felt at his face and realized that he had maimed himself when he jumped through the window up in the Gryffindor tower. But, those cuts were dried now. Another drop of blood hit the mirror and Tom gazed upward to the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There were seven students, all witches, speared on each golden arm of the chandelier. Tom squinted further up at the ceiling and he glared at what was written in a circle on the cavernous ceiling in the dead witches' blood: Paths Away From Lord Voldemort Are Paved In Blood. Surrender.

Tom tore his gaze away from the dead muggle-borns and rang his fingers through his long dark hair. He gripped it at its roots and a few came loose. Fury was contorting his handsome, thin face. With a roar of despair, the ground beneath his feet shattered.

Ripples of shattered stone floor reverberated around his black dress shoes. His ebony dress robe billowed around his ankles. His curtains of dark hair lapped around his eyes which were angled further in mounting aggression. He strode with conviction towards the archway leading out to the courtyard. With a simple gesture of swinging his arms out before him the door was rocketed off its hinges effortlessly.

Tom listened for any signs of life, turning on the spot beneath the crescent moon. This courtyard had a staircase the led down to the recreational grounds and the Black Lake.

"Homenum revelio,"he said inside of his head.

Nothing happened. Tom knew his followers had not escaped in the carriages. They must be outside.

"You fools wanted my attention," he threatened darkly as he unhinged those huge doors as well. "You'll regret gaining it."

Hermione clung to the thestral, unable to shake the nausea of soaring over the Forbidden Forest astride a creature she could not see. The thestral snorted proudly, tossing its head joyfully. It had taken to Hermione's command readily since she freed the stallion from pulling the carriage like a simple draft horse. The thestral started to dive towards the deep green lawn once they had cleared the forest. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for a very bumpy landing.

But, like her previous experiences, the thestral touched down with the grace of a shadow.

Hermione dismounted the boney back of the thestral and patted what she assumed was its withers, "Thank you."

Her thick curly hair was fast unraveling from the elaborate up-do. She shielded her eyes with her forearm as the invisible creature flapped its wings and took to the air again, its harness straps billowing around it. Hermione squinted down at the boathouse on the Black Lake. She could make out a squirming mass of nearly a hundred students, both graduates and undergrads, corralled in a herd along the stone dock and up one flight of the staircase that would take one to the courtyard opposite the Great Hall.

She hitched up the skirt of her cumbersome dress and staggered in her haste down the steep hill to the shore of the Black Lake. By the time her bare feet sank into the cold dark mud, her curly hair had entirely broken free of its constraints and was billowing around her in the brisk evening air. The hem of her dress was sagging in the wet soil. She peered across the vast lake. Hermione was directly opposite the boathouse and it took her a moment to fear that maybe the Deatheaters would spot her on the shore.

She flinched when one Deatheater pushed a victim, writhing and screaming against this invisible bonds, into the bottomless frigid basin.

Hermione wiped out her wand and shouted impulsively, "LEVICORPUS!"

To her amazement, the young wizard burst from beneath the surface of the lapping lake. She whispered, thinking of the student's attire, "Accio!"

The boy began to drift helplessly above the treacherous waves but, before the boy was within ten feet of her, Hermione was blasted off her feet by a bolt of misaimed emerald light and the boy fell back into the water, spluttering free from his bonds.

Hermione coughed roughly as she heard a deep, gravelly, commanding voice echoing from the top of the staircase at the courtyard above the boathouse roar in Parseltongue, "KAHEDERAH, BEVO SAMO AIN!"

The Deatheaters harmoniously gazed upward to their former leader. Tom flattened his trembling hand on the short stone wall and leaned into it. His skin had grown a grey tinge, intensifying around his reddened dark eyes. He hoped that the Death Eaters did not take this as a sign of weakness ... because it was.

Tom clenched his jaw, raised his hand struggling to maintain a grip on his wand and aimed it at the stone steps below him, "Diffindo!"

There were about five flights of staircases and they all harmoniously shattered at his command. The muggle-borns shrieked with fear as bits of stone pelted towards them. Tom stood away from the wall and drew his free hand across his chest with his wand pointed directly at the terrified mass of students. It was like an invisible semicircle had consumed them and the shards of stone, some as large as a car, bounced off it like hollow balls. All those tear-streaked and fear-stricken faces turned to gaze up at him as the dust from the landslide settled.

Tom stepped onto a boulder that had fixed itself into the stubborn dry earth a few feet down from the courtyard. He extended one hand out behind him and splayed his fingers out. As though he had pushed against something, the boulder steadily slid down to the boat dock. Hermione lifted her head from the muddy shore and watched him descend to the massacre.

The boy she had rescued fell down beside her and shook her shoulder, "Com'on! Let's get out of here!"

She gripped his tiny hand and twisted to meet his eyes. He had dark hair like Tom's, but, he had tan skin and lime green eyes. He couldn't be older than a Second Year.

Hermione choked out, "No, I have to help the others. You run to the main gates, OK? There might still be carriages. Go!"

The boy nodded feverishly and departed from her, scrambling up the steep hill and vanishing over the top without a second thought. Hermione stared at the spot where he disappeared, hoping he would make it to the gates safely. She staggered to her bare feet and held up the hem of her dress heavy with smelly mud. When she peered across the lake, she saw that Tom had reached the dock and that the muggle-borns were still shrinking away from him like he was a decomposing corpse.

"Don't be afraid," Hermione said tearfully as she broke into a run, "He's here to help."

Tom spared a few seconds to watch Hermione run. He could only hope that she had the sense to go back to the carriages. This was a losing battle for both sides, and he would never forgive himself if she became a casualty.

"My lord, you don't look well." Rosier cackled, gesturing to the boulder Tom had ridden down on, "Maybe you should have a seat. We'll take care of all this. You're wishes are coming true, my lord."

Tom clenched his jaw, "No!" He turned to the muggle-borns, "I swear on my heart that I had no part in this!"

Yaxley glared at them, "Oh, I don't think they're so easily swayed. We are not, either, sire. You are confused. Come back to us. We'll transform our world. It'll be better!"

"Set them free," Tom ordered Rosier, striding to him. "Don't make me force you."

Rosier squinted up at him, "The mudblood whore really has a hold on you. Doesn't she? Have you been Imperiused?"

Tom had to force himself not to look for Hermione on the shoreline, "She enlightened me to things I, Tom Riddle ... not Voldemort, refused to see. She's made me stronger."

He was stowing his wand inside his robe to show the muggle-borns that he was not a threat when he was hit with a emerald bolt of light. Tom shielded his eyes, but, judging by the communal gasps from his spectators, he was still standing.

Rosier yanked the blond Gryffindor, which Tom recognized as the boy he offered to help a few weeks ago, from the crowd, "We have an assassin in our midst! What would you have me do with him, sire?"

Tom lowered his arm and peered down into the little blond boy's eyes, "Let him go."

There was another, louder, gasp from the Deatheater's victims at Tom's merciful act. Rosier laughed, "My lord always had a way with humor!" He lifted the boy up by his pajama collar, "Thank you for volunteering. You'll go first."

Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream as she watched Rosier throw the little boy into the merciless waves. She was a mere one hundred feet from the dock. Even if she had not been so quick to silence herself, she likely would not have been heard over Tom's roar of furry. She squinted at him when he swayed on the spot. He was growing weaker with each passing minute. She needed to be by his side. Hermione ducked behind a fallen boulder as tall as Hagrid and felt her wrist gripped by a wrinkled hand.

"I thought I put you on a carriage, Granger!" growled Kettleburn.

Hermione choked on his foul breath, "He needs your help! Tom can't do this on his own! He needs medical attention! Please, he'll die!"

Dumbledore appeared behind the Care of Magical Creatures professor, "He is their leader. He is as guilty as they are. Rosier boasted that Tom Riddle planned this."

"He lied!" Hermione shook her head fervently. "Tom was with me! In my common room! We never even reached the Great Hall! Please, professor Dumbledore! He's a changed man!"

"That is a risk I am no longer willing to take, miss Granger." said Dumbledore sadly. "I brought him to this school. I endangered all of his fellow students by doing that. It's my duty to -"

" - to not place blame on a man guilty only of living without love! Guilty by association!" Hermione argued, her words tumbling over each other. She winced when there was another very loud splash. Rosier must have thrown many students at once into the Black Lake for how loud that splash was. Hermione plowed on, "Tom just gave them these monstrous ideas. But, he's seen that he was wrong! He's trying to stop it all now! Just look!" Hermione peered around the boulder again and gasped, "Where did they go?"

The dock was vacant but for one young, tall man kneeling at its edge with his head bowed, his face hidden by his curtain of dark hair. Hermione squinted at the Deatheaters whom were now fastened to the cliff face by chains that had not been there before. Tom must have disarmed them in those few seconds Hermione was not looking. But, where were the muggle-borns?

Tom was shivering from head to toe. His hands slick in his own vomit were gripping the cobblestone ledge. Tears were spilling down his sunken cheeks. His heart was palpitating more painfully than before. The muscles in his thin arms and legs were aching excruciatingly.

Tom knew he only had a short amount of time left. Rosier had simultaneously cast the rest of the victims into the lake. If he waited any longer, they would all surely drown. He listened to Hermione calling his name and could feel her feet pounding the long dock towards him. Hermione screamed as Tom tilted forward and fell beneath the frigid waves.

"TOM!"

Hermione clutched at the cobblestone dock, weeping in despair. Albus Dumbledore, Horace Slughorn, Kettleburn had the criminals in custody. Rosier and the rest of the murderers were bound to the cliff face, unarmed and cowering. Hermione frowned when she saw tiny pebbles dance around her fingertips ... the ground was trembling.

She sniffled and her dark eyes widened as the quaking grew more powerful with each passing second. Just as everyone else with her on the boat dock was noticing the grumbling earth, the ground beneath them all gave a violent yank beneath their feet. Hermione lurched forward while everyone but the Death Eaters fell to the slick ground.

"What the hell?" she breathed as the glass surface of the Black Lake ruptured into curling waves.

Hermione pushed herself back to her feet and used the tie-off piling nearest to her to remain steady. The ground would tremble, then be still, then tremble again. The very center of the lake was churning into the eye of a hurricane, the epicenter of the agitated current. The metal piling was bouncing painfully against Hermione's constricted ribs.

She shouted over her shoulder at Dumbledore, "WHAT'S HAPPENING?"

Dumbledore seemed just as helpless as she felt. Then, she read his lips say, "In God Almighty ..."

Hermione frowned and turned back to look at the center of the lake ... there was a tall dark haired young man rising out of the widening funnel.

"Tom?" she gasped in disbelief.

There was Tom suspended above the trashing waves with his arms stretched out at his sides, his legs dangling limply, and his chin almost touching his collar bone. It was as though the grim reaper himself was dangling Tom's lifeless body by nothing but his arms.

"No, please don't be dead!" Hermione whimpered as she untied the corset strings at the back of her dress ... without a wand like a muggle. "I'm coming for you!"

She was trembling just as much as the earth and groaned each time she made a mistake. Hermione wasn't much of a swimmer. But, if she got the chance to get to him she was going to risk it. She knew that the mass of her dress would only sink her to the bottom of the Black Lake like an anchor if she were to try to swim in it. Hermione was down to her undergarment dress when she saw Tom's head erect.

He was facing skyward when his limp hands suddenly tensed into fists. All around him over a hundred smaller funnels were forming. Hermione's mouth was completely gaped as she watched each muggle-born witch and wizard, alive or drowned, rose from beneath their watery graves.

"WHERE'S HIS WAND? HOW'S HE FLYING? WHAT IS THIS MAGIC?" Slughorn shouted over the grumbling earth to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore strode towards Hermione, "Love, my old friend. Love."

Hermione was about to fish out her wand from her bosom when Dumbledore grabbed her wrist, possibly under the impression that she was still planning on diving into the murderous waters. In all directions, the muggleborns drifted either squirming or lifelessly to the surrounding shoreline. Once they were a paranoid-safe distance from the lake, they were laid in the tall grass. As all this was happening around him, Tom's skin grew steadily greyer and greyer, darkening around his closed eyes. Beneath the Black Lake, through the winding corridors of the Slytherin dormitories, in room VI-VI-VI, the locket, diary, and Marvolo's ring began to vibrate angrily.

The surface of the lake became glassy once more and Tom fell back into the freezing water. At that very moment, Tom's horcruxes vanished into thin air.

"TOM!" Hermione screamed.

She slipped out of Dumbledore's slackening grip and dove headfirst into the Black Lake.

"Miss Granger! Come back this instant! It's too late for him now!" Slughorn skidded to a halt at Dumbledore's side. "He's dead!"

Hermione struck out for where Tom had fallen, "No! He can't die!" She spluttered and whispered to herself, "Let me save you, Tom. Please, let me save you." Hermione turned on the spot at the center of the Black Lake, "TOM?"

The three professors, the Death Eaters, and the muggleborns that had survived looked on helplessly from the shoreline. Dumbledore was about to extend his wand out to reel Hermione back to safety when she felt a heavy hand clasp at her shoulder.

"S-s-swimming ou-out to g-get m-me?" Tom's voice cracked in her ear, "Ar-are you su-sure y-you're a w-witch?"

"Oh, Tom!" Hermione spun around and, without thinking, coiled her arms around his neck in an embrace of relief. She sobbed into his cold, dripping neck, "I th-thought you drowned!"

She could hear the combined whispers around the lake magnify together ... they were shocked that he was still alive. Tom struggled to remain afloat with Hermione hugging him. His heart was beating so slowly now ... too slow. He saw dark spots popping in front of his eyes. He had used up his last bit of strength levicorpusing all of the muggleborns, dead and miraculously alive, out of the lake.

Hermione turned over on her back and Tom reluctantly wrapped his arms around her waist while she struck out backwards for the opposite bank. Her undergarment dress was white and had become transparent in the water. Tom had ripped off his robe before he grabbed Hermione's shoulder to reduce his weight in the water. He let go when the depth of the water grew shallow. Hermione staggered upright and let herself be the crutch to make it possible for Tom's long, trembling legs to support himself.

However, they barely made it to the Beech tree before they both collapsed with exhaustion. Hermione pulled Tom onto her lap and rested her back against the trunk of the tree, "I'm here, Tom. You're going to be alright. It's going to be alright. I'm here."

"You're not supposed to be," Tom breathed, fighting his drooping eyelids to gaze up at her. "That was m-my dying wish ... for you to be safe. C-couldn't grant that for me?"

Hermione combed her fingers through his soaked hair and bent down to kiss his brows, his nose, his cheeks, his eyes, and finally his lips. Her long dark curls weighed down in water and mud were now like a curtain around their faces. They blocked out all the distractions. It was like they were the only ones left.

Tom tried to sit up but fell back in Hermione's lap, "Were they a-alive? D-did I get any of them out i-in time?"

Hermione nodded vigorously, "I saw some - most," she lied to him. "What's happening, Tom? Why aren't your horcruxes working now?"

"I knew this could kill me. I couldn't tell you ... I didn't think you'd care if I died. Not until this night." he chuckled humorlessly.

"Tom! How could you lie to me this entire time?"

Hermione was shocked at how terrified she was at the thought of him dying in her arms, especially in such an inhumanly cruel way. Since she was aware of Lord Voldemort, she wanted him dead. But, she couldn't stand by and do nothing for Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort was defeated.

"M-m-my h…," he said through gritted teeth.

He seemed to be unable to speak clearly anymore. He weakly grabbed Hermione's wrist and she flinched at how cold it was. Tom was unable to explain so he pulled her fingers to his chest. Hermione could feel a faint heartbeat.

He let her hand go and squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of pain overtook him. Tom's breath was becoming shallower and shallower. His body seized up, "I-I love you, Hermione Granger. A-always will. Please, d-don't hate me for this."

Tom placed his arms over his stomach and gave a quiet groan. Hermione placed her hand on his ribs but pulled it away quickly when he gave a gasp of pain. Then, his body relaxed. But, Hermione was sure it wasn't because the pain had gone. She was certain it was still there judging by his faint continuous moans. He just had lost the strength to tense himself into an instinctive protective ball.

His legs went limp while his hands rattled on the ends of his gangly arms.

His dark eyes closed.

"Tom? Tom, talk to me. Please, don't be dead!" she scooted closer, lowering herself over his lifeless body. Hermione knew what she would have to but she was afraid to touch him again. "No. No, no, no. N-n-no, Tom? Tom, please, don't do this! No, no, no! No, no, n-no!"

Tom's mouth hung open slightly and Hermione saw that he had bitten his own tongue because of how hard he had been convulsing. Blood was dripping out the corner of his lips. Hermione, finding that her own body was shaking, tried to gently place her hand underneath his shoulders and thighs to lift him up but she stopped when he gave a terribly sad gasp like she had just lowered him into a bath of painfully cold water.

"Tom, I know it's going to hurt. But, I need to get you on your feet, okay?"

"I can't," he stammered.

"Yes, you can. I will not watch you die!"

Two days later, Tom finally was conscious enough to communicate. He fabricated a story to the nurses that he was struck with a curse that made him lose weight dramatically and caused his heart to fail. Hermione finally was able to talk to him. A small hint of color had returned to his face when she saw him. Maybe he was just happy to see her.

She pulled up a stool to sit next to his bed and held his hand in hers. Hermione noticed that his eyes were more chocolaty than bottomless pits now. She couldn't help herself but analyze how frail he really looked.

"I'm not as handsome as you remember, huh?"

Hermione smiled and shrugged. There was a bit … a lot of truth to that, but looks weren't her biggest concern at the moment.

Tom's cheekbones and jaw line were a lot sharper than they used to be, there was still shadowing around his eyes, his lips were nearly as colorless as his skin, and even his fingernails were discolored. Hermione guessed there were bruises underneath all his fingernails, making them purple. The blanket that covered him looked more like it was swallowing his tall frame.

"I tried to get rid of you for weeks, Tom. I don't think your 'handsomeness' had much to do with it."

She was happy to hear him speak. But, it wasn't a very happy moment. His throat sounded terrible as ever.

"I talked to the nurse when I - well, Dumbledore was also there - brought you here. I think you owe me a 'thank-you' for convincing them to not send you off to St. Mungo's."

"How long have I been here?"

"Two days,"she nodded, glancing down at his quivering chest, "She told me how much trouble you had been in."

Tom's sunken face fell a little,"Did she?"

"She told me how much you were suffering. But, I didn't need her to tell me. I can see it right in front of me."

"I had to do it …. Hermione, they're going to lock me away in Azkaban now ... aren't they?"

"Oh, Tom!" she leaned across the bed and kissed him on the lips.

Tom moaned gutturally,"Your lips are so warm."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw that the nurses weren't looking. She lifted his magically heated blanket and curled up next to him on the bed. He shivered a sigh as she laid her leg across both of his and rested her arm across his chest. She tucked him in and rested her face beside his.

"I love you because you're stubborn, hard-working, protective, intelligent, loving, and have a beautiful soul underneath all this turmoil. Looks are fleeting. But, I'll inflate your ego a little by admitting that yours are easy on the eyes."

His colorless cheeks flushed just a little. She felt his slightly warmed lips on her forehead as he pressed them to her for a kiss.

"I may have overcome my fear of death. But, now, thanks to this extraordinary witch that gave me a chance, I have a soul that can be sucked out." Hermione frowned up at him and snuggled closer. Tom stroked her arm, "The Headmaster came to see me during the night, Hermione. He said that I was to be arrested on suspicion of having a hand in the massacre, regardless of how I saved seventy-seven of them. I don't want to be in a cage, Hermione."

Hermione nodded and kissed his throat,"I know ... and I won't stand by and let them take you away."

"Hermione, you are gifted. But, I think the Ministry officers will have the upper hand," he said faintly, clearly about to slip into sleep.

"No, Tom. They'll have to go through me, first. I can't lose you again."

"I probably smell bad," he laughed but it got caught in his throat and made him cough.

"You do, but that's not exactly bothering me at this moment." Hermione squeezed her eyes to stem her tears, "Tom, I want you to meet me in the Gryffindor common room tonight at eleven o'clock. It's probably the first place they'd look for you but ... I'm getting you out of here."

"If I am not Bound to this gurney, I'll be there, Hermione." his chest shook as he tried to laugh again, "Hopefully they'll let me bathe first."

Hermione ran her hand along his boney face, hoping that one day soon it will be full of life again. He met her eyes and she realized that they were chocolaty-toned rather than bottomless pits. There was a twinkle in the warm pools of his eyes. The bits of his soul in the horcruxes had returned to their rightful place.

"I just want to be here with you right now. Don't worry about anything. You don't deserve to be incarcerated after all you've done. I'll run away with you, Tom."

That night at 10:57, an agitated witch was pacing in front of the roaring fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was wearing a deep crimson pleated dress. Her hair was refusing to be subdued tonight no matter what product she applied. It was stubbornly bushy as ever, locks of brown curls cascading down her back and over her shoulders. She kept peaking into her cupped hands as though to be certain that she had taken the right amount of Floo powder from Slughorn's classroom.

She checked the watch on her wrist as she sank down onto her trunk. It was 10:59 p.m.. She had slipped a Sleeping Draft into her dorm mates' wine during supper earlier that evening to make certain that no one would try to foil her plan. Hermione hoped to convince Tom to travel with her to the United States where his crimes are less known.

Hermione tapped her fingernails on the glass of her watch, "Com'on, Tom. Come on. What's taking you so long?"

"I'm just admiring the view," said a deep voice from near the portrait hole.

Hermione gasped and twisted around. There stood Tom. He was wearing his hospital wing attire underneath his ... Gryffindor robe.

"Where did you steal that?" Hermione smiled as she ran quietly over to him.

Tom glanced at the emblem on his left side and shrugged, "The Misplaced & Recovered. I figured I no longer qualified as a Slytherin. That infantile rivalry between our Houses makes it a good disguise to get here."

Hermione opened one of her fists to show him the Floo powder, "Ever been to America?"

Tom chuckled and flinched when Hermione shushed him to be quiet. He hissed, "Never had the chance."

"It'll be a fresh start, Tom, far away from all of this."

Tom glanced over her head at the crescent mood dangling over the Forbidden Forest, "This is our home, though."

Hermione sighed sadly, "We can come back anytime, okay? Let's just get out of London for starters."

She levitated her trunk to her side and Tom laughed quietly, "I assumed we were traveling a bit lighter."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gestured towards the fireplace, "Com'on, Tom. Hold your comments till we're somewhere as strangers."

Tom pulled his wand, which Hermione thought had been confiscated by the officials, and extinguished the bright flames. She stepped into the ashes, her levicorpused trunk following her like a dog on a leash, and giggled when Tom had to duck to be beside her.

Hermione poured his portion of Floo powder into his hand and entwined her fingers in his free hand, "On the count of three, one ... two ... three! New York!"

Tom tugged her to his chest and kissed her as their powder rained down upon them. Hermione cupped his face as they vanished in the emerald flames.