A/N: This chapter has not been beta read.
Kolybel'naya
Chapter 16: A Riddle for a Riddle
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It took a trip to Hogsmead to make Hermione finally realize how much Harry and Ron were missed by her even though she had managed to befriends with other people. Had the boys been there, the witch would have spent the day in their company, eating Honeydukes' sweets and drinking Butterbeer but now she was faced with the rather sad perspective of spending the day on her own as she watched Charlus and Dorea walking into the sweets' shop. Minerva and Septimus stopped by the Three Broomsticks to talk with their teammates from Quidditch and, then, as Potter and Black continued their way through the village, holding hands and whispering sweet nothings to one another, Hermione thought it would be better for her to leave them alone rather than being there, poking her nose into something that wasn't her business.
On that day, Hogsmead had been pretty crowded. As it was the first weekend on the village, most third years were there and, as Halloween was approaching, the older students also filled the shops to buy candies and other little things they would soon find a use for during in their trick-or-treat jokes. She spotted Irina and Amata walking around with bags from Honeydukes in their hands, just like a group of Gryffindor girls from her year who were accompanied by Hector Spinnet and George Johnson. And, of course, that lovely group of Slytherin boys…
Hermione wondered if they ever parted, because every time she saw Avery, Lestrange and Malfoy, they were together. Well, except for when Abraxas was busy doing his Potion project with her, but aside from that, the three of them seemed to be glued together. Maybe that was what people thought when they sawHarry, Ron and her walking up and down Hogwarts always side by side. The curious thing was that Tom Riddle, although clearly part of the group, was not always with them. Now, for example, the three boys were not in the company of Riddle as they stood in front of a closed shop – an old apothecary, from what she could read from the sign above the entrance -, leaning against its brick wall while they chatted. Hadn't it been for the furtive looks Lestrange kept giving for anyone who walked past them – which was not many people as they stood on the far end of the main street -, she would be able to think they were not up to anything. But no, Canopus Lestrange kept looking around as if he was afraid of being heard and that was enough to give away that their chat was not a casual, friendly conversation. 'Riddle ought to choose his dogs better,' she thought, because those boys were only doing a good job on making people feel suspicious about them.
Hermione let a polite smile appear on her lips once Canopus' eyes found her. The boy furrowed his brows before nodding to her in a quick greet. Not satisfied with that, the witch kept staring at them, restraining a laugh once she saw how uncomfortable Lestrange was. Soon, Avery seemed to notice his friend's disquietude and turned to look at her. A copy of her smile appeared on Atlas' face and it looked weird. That fake smile was the kind of thing she would expect to see on Riddle's face.
"Hello, Miss Elston!" Hermione blinked, deviating her eyes from Atlas just to see Malfoy waving at her, a wide smile on his face. The Slytherin said something to his housemates before leaving them behind, walking up to her. "How are you today, Miss Elston?"
"I'm all right," she said, pushing her hair behind her ear. "What about you?"
"I'm surviving all the essays we have to get on with." Abraxas shrugged.
"It's not that much." Hermione raised an eyebrow and let a quiet laugh escape form her mouth, "I've already been through the one from History of Magic and Arithmancy."
"I don't take Arithmancy, Miss Elston, but I do have an essay about Hungarians Horntails to do for Care of Magical Creatures," explained Malfoy, smiling. "Along with the History of Magic one, but Tom said he would help me out with this one."
"Oh?" The girl laughed. "Does Riddle let you copy his homework?"
"I said he would help me out, not let me copy it. No, Tom would rather kill someone than allow him or her to copy something he did. By help me out I mean he's probably going to hand me the book he used to research and that's it." Abraxas looked back to Avery and Lestrange, nodding his head to them before turning to Hermione. "Tell me, Miss Elston, would you care to accompany me to the Three Broomsticks? I mean, it is your first weekend in Hogsmead and I bet you never tasted something as good as Madam Corine's Butterbeer."
Hermione raised an eyebrow as she stared at the blond boy. Had a Malfoy just asked her to go drink a Butterbeer with him? Now that was strange, but still, Abraxas didn't know she was a Muggleborn and, therefore, didn't have a reason not to like her like his grandson would have. Looking away from the boy, the witch saw Atlas and Canopus walking away, back into the crowd of students that stood in front of the most well known shops. Minerva and Septimus would still be with the Quidditch team, just like how Charlus and Dorea would be somewhere in the village wanting nothing more than the company of each other. Between going back to the castle and staying the rest of the afternoon on her own, taking the risk of getting in that gloomy mood that affected her earlier, and going to have a drink with Malfoy, she would take the second option.
"All right." She shrugged. "Lead the way, then."
If it was not obvious from the time she spent with him preparing the Amortentia, Hermione discovered now that Abraxas Malfoy was the kind of person who seemed unable to stop speaking. He talked about everything: his family, his pet, his father's work, his homework, and his classmates… Everything. When the girl was already finishing her first cup of Butterbeer, Abraxas was still in the beginning of his due to his incessant talking. Not that it was a bad thing, it was simply unexpected. She knew Draco Malfoy very well to notice he was not the kind of person who would waste their time chatting about useless things, nor did he seem to be able to create such a friendly atmosphere as Abraxas did. That actually scared her a bit: to see a Malfoy acting like that was almost like having a belief taken from her.
"Cygnus broke his front teeth that day. Both of them!" The boy grinned and pointed at his own front teeth. "I tell you, Minerva McGonagall has a scary strength in those limbs of hers. I'm glad she's not a Beater. Can you imagine that? If she knocked out Cygnus teeth with a kick, imagine what she would do with a bat in her hand!"
"What did he do to make her kick him in the face?" asked Hermione, laughing at the mental image of her Transfiguration teacher becoming aggressive over a sport.
"He held her broomstick in midair."
"Now, that's low play!"
"I know, but everyone does it, though we now learned not to use this technique with McGonagall. Not if we want our face to remain in one piece." He laughed out loud, shaking his head. "She's a good player, Minerva. Kinda mad when someone endangers her chance of winning, but a good player nonetheless."
"She's not the only competitive person in Hogwarts, though," said Hermione, taking a sip of her Butterbeer and seeing a playful spark appear in Abraxas' blue eyes.
"Of course not. We have our competitive creatures just like any other school, but it's hard to find someone who can beat Minerva."
"Tom Riddle can," she said, abruptly.
"And until a few days ago I thought no one would be able to beat him." Malfoy finally took some time to drink his Butterbeer, his eyes locked into Hermione's. "I thought the both of you would jump on each other's neck back in that Defence class when Merrythought asked about spells used in duels."
"I was just answering a question professor Merrythought asked," she said, matter-of-factly. "It's not my fault Riddle can't deal with someone else acting like a proper student."
"You talk about him as if you couldn't stand his existence, did you know that, Miss Elston?" The Slytherin put the cup down, resting his elbows on the wooden table and holding his chin with his hands. "It's funny."
"I don't think his existence is unbearable." 'Liar,' she whispered to herself in her own head.
"I guess it's the competition thing. I bet you were always the best student wherever you studied before and now you have him to compete with you for the best mark." Malfoy grinned. "And the same thing is happening to him. McGonagall is a good student and is competitive, but her competitiveness is stronger inside the Quidditch field. But you? You, Miss Elston, clashes against Tom, without hesitating, inside a classroom. It's wonderful to watch the two of you."
"Oh, good to know." She rolled her eyes. "Next time a teacher ask something, I'll make sure to answer it before Riddle so you can be amused as you watch the sparks flying between us."
"Please, Miss Elston, do so." Abraxas laughed. "But, although it does amuse me to see the two of you being annoyed at each other, I can't help but think of how much you and Tom could get along together. I mean, if you two stopped trying to kill each other with looks and those sharp tongues or yours."
"Of course. Who knows, Mr. Malfoy, we may become best friends one day." She gave him a mocking smile. "I bet Riddle is a lovely person when he's among his friends, isn't he? I can see how much you, Mr. Avery and Mr. Lestrange enjoy his company." The girl narrowed her eyes as she watched Abraxas' smile flails for a moment.
"Tom is a nice person, you should believe me in this. And an interesting one, too."
"I don't doubt he's interesting," said Hermione. "Anyone who can work with magic the way he does is interesting, but that doesn't mean…"
"Work with magic the way he does?" This time it was Malfoy's turn to narrow his eyes and furrow his brows.
'Shit.' She bit down on her lower lip. Riddle would not be happy if he knew she had let slip about their little sessions of practice to anyone else.
"It's obvious he has a great hold on his magic only by watching him working with spells on classes," she answered him, shrugging.
"I see your point there." Abraxas allowed silence to fall between them for a few minutes and kept staring at her. It was just now that Hermione noticed that Malfoy's eyes were of a different colour than Draco's. The Malfoy from her time had those greyish eyes into which she had never seen anything but arrogance while the boy in front of her right now had dark blue eyes that seemed somehow softer than what she would expect form him.
The witch turned her head as she heard a delighted laugh echoing from the table next to them. The blonde woman who had served them, Madam Corine, was sitting there with a little girl whose curly, blonde hair was tied in a messy plait. The girl couldn't be older than six and was sitting on the woman's lap, laughing as she tried to tidy her hair up. The barmaid scolded at her, whispering a low 'Rosmerta!', before laughing too.
'Madam Rosmerta,' she thought, feeling her heart clench. She wondered how the woman was in the future now that the war had finally started. The Three Broomsticks would be filled with Death Eaters.
"You're looking rather sad."
"What?" Hermione blinked and looked back at the boy.
"Nothing, Miss Elston." He chuckled. "I was just thinking out loud." Malfoy straightened himself on the chair just in time to greet a girl who walked past their table. "Hello, Walburga!"
The Gryffindor couldn't help but arch an eyebrow as she looked at the other witch. The Walburga Black she knew was an annoying painting inside Grimmauld Place, an old woman with dark hair tied in a complicated hairstyle and a sour face that would scream every time she saw her, telling everyone who cared to hear about how she was the scum of the world and how she did not deserve to set her dirty feet inside the noble house of the Black family. The girl standing in front of them did not look like that mad, old woman. The witch was lean and stood in an elegant way, one of her hands holding a small purse between her fingers while the other found its way to Abraxas' shoulder. Her dark hair was tied in a plait and her face looked calm, especially with that soft smile plastered on her lips.
"Good afternoon to you too, Abraxas." The girl's voice seemed to match with her calm appearance. It sounded low and slow, as if it was a great effort for her to emit a sound. After watching the Slytherin boy for a few seconds, her dark eyes turned to Hermione. "And who's that?"
"Hermione Elston, the new girl from Gryffindor," explained Abraxas. "Hermione, that's Walburga Black."
"Hello."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Elston." Her smile widened for a moment before returning to its normal size. "I was just going to Honeydukes, is there anything new there? By the way, where's Tom?"
"There are those nice pumpkin sweets there, really good. And Tom stayed in the castle, just for a change." Malfoy laughed while Black rolled her eyes.
"You are his friend, Abraxas, you should bring him out of that damned castle once in a while. It's not healthy for him to stay in there all the time. I bet he's in that library again."
"And you doubt that, Walburga, dear?" asked the boy. "He's Tom Riddle, his natural habitat is inside that library."
As she watched Abraxas and Walburga talking, Hermione asked herself when did her life take that turn into which it was possible for her to sit in a table with two Slytherins and not feeling offended by them.
Tom woke up with a startle, widening his eyes and looking around only to find himself sitting on the stone bench of a corridor down in the dungeons. He must have dozed off while he sat down to check on the book he had just taken from the library. That was horrible, that stupid exhaustion of his. If only he managed to get a good night of sleep, but, no, during the last few days his sleep had been troubled enough to make him almost drool over his parchment during his classes. And now it had redeemed him into falling asleep in the middle of a corridor.
Rubbing his eyes with his fingers and, then, pinching the bridge of his nose, the boy gasped and jumped to his feet once he noticed he was not alone in the corridor. A pearly-white figure stood in front of him, floating at least one metre above the floor, his gaunt face turned in his direction while his dark eyes seemed to burn into him. Tom had to restrain himself from looking down to the man's robes dappled with silvery blood.
"Good afternoon, Baron." Tom bowed his head to the ghost of Slytherin's dungeon, but the only response he got was an irritated huff as the man's thin hands skimmed over the chains that hung from his neck.
"Meddling with that kind of people," whispered the Baron, turning and slowly floating away but still staring at Riddle. "The kind of people who shouldn't even be here. What a shame! What would my lady say of that?"
It was only when the ghost floated across the stonewall and disappeared from the corridor that Tom allowed himself to pull a face. Although the Bloody Baron was the ghost of his house, Riddle had never managed to gain his confidence. Most of the times, the Baron was alone, floating around the corridors or scolding at Peeves. He was almost as secluded as the Grey Lady.
"Ohhh! Did the grumpy Baron just passed by here?" a loud, mocking voice echoed through the corridor just as soon as a little man in colourful clothes appeared in midair, floating upside down and grinning at Riddle.
Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The Bloody Baron might have been quiet and a bit rude, but no one could win over Peeves in a contest of who could annoy him more. Actually, Peeves had to be the pet peeve of most people who had already set their feet inside that castle.
"What do you want, Peeves?" asked the boy, trying to keep his ground and not give the poltergeist the satisfaction of seeing him annoyed.
"I was actually looking for the Bloody Baron, but now that I've found you…" His grin widened, making him looking like the Cheshire Cat as he approached the Slytherin. "I might have something for you, Head Boy." The last two words came out as if he had been singing.
"Come on, Peeves, I really have no time for your antics-"
"Not an antic! Oh no!" The poltergeist laughed. "It's something for you. A riddle for a Riddle!"
Oh, great. That silly joke with his name seemed to have died out after his first year of having Peeves following him around the castle, making up stupid riddles for him and always demanding him to answer them because they were 'riddles for a Riddle'.
"No, Peeves."
"I am not seen, I am not heard. I'm not alive, but I'm not dead. I feel no pain and yet I weep. And though I weep, no tear I shed," Peeves sang, his voice already sounding annoying to his ears. "Who am I?"
"You are the Grey Lady," answered Tom, rolling his eyes. "This is obvious."
"Ah, ah, ah!" The poltergeist laughed. "But you do see and hear the Lady!"
"But not all the times, she can become invisible when…"
"I am not seen, I am not heard. I'm not alive but I'm not dead. I feel no pain and yet I weep. And though I weep, no tear I shed. I am no maiden and in this castle I do not belong. Who am I?"
"You do realize that this last part is completely off, right?"
"Just answer it already, Head Boy," said Peeves, tumbling in the air.
"I'm not alive but I'm not dead. It's a ghost, hanging between life and death." Riddle sighed, grabbing the book he had left on the top of the stone bench. "But I have no idea of which ghost you are talking about."
"Oh, but you, above all, should know!" The poltergeist giggled for a few seconds before stopping abruptly as another pearly-white figure appeared behind him. "Milady!"
"Peeves, shouldn't you be somewhere else inside the castle?" asked the newly arrived ghost and she held her hands in front of her body, looking down at the poltergeist who had straightened himself now that he was under her watch, even though the mocking smirk was still on his face. "I thought the Baron didn't like when you entered his dungeons. Shall I call him to take care of you?"
"The Baron also does not like it when you, milady, meddles with the likes of him!" Peeves laughed out loud and Tom could see the Grey Lady's jaw clenching. "But, to answer your question, there's no need to call your beloved Baron. I bet I can have more fun with the first years than with the Head Boy."
And, without saying another world, the poltergeist disappeared right in front of them. The woman's ghost sighed, pushing her silvery, long hair behind her back, before looking down at Tom.
"I have no idea of why my mother or any of her colleagues did not get rid of him as soon as they stepped inside this castle," she whispered. "After all these years and the Baron is still the only one Peeves seems to respect."
"It could be worse, my lady." Riddle left the usual soft smile he wore when talking to the ghost appear on his lips. "He could not respect anyone at all."
"You are right, although I would not complain if I could have the Baron out of this castle, even if that meant I would have to bear an unruled Peeves…"
Tom furrowed his brows as he watched the Grey Lady. Since he began talking to her, the boy had noticed she was not really fond of the Bloody Baron. Yes, the man was not the sweetest spirit in the world, but neither was Lady Ravenclaw. But the woman seemed to hold such a strong, negative feeling towards the ghost of the Slytherin dungeon that, most of the times – with the exception of the feast on the first day of the school year -, she would scowl and disappear right after he showed up in the same room. He had seen it happening numerous time and it looked like as if the other ghosts of Hogwarts were, too, not aware of the reason this happened. Riddle once had the opportunity to talk with the Fat Friar about this issue and the Hufflepuff spirit only confirmed him that the Lady's behaviour had been the same since the days in which he was still alive.
"You don't seem to like the Baron very much."
"We do not have a happy story behind ourselves," the ghost told him. "Remember what I told you about my mother?"
"Yes, my lady, she was Rowena Ravenclaw."
"And have you ever heard about what they call the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw?" Tom's eyes widened as he heard what she had said. Of course he had heard about the diadem that was supposed to grant Ravenclaw's intelligence to the wearer and of course he had been interested in its properties and story. "I take it that you have. Now, do you know what happened to the diadem?"
"No, my lady. I only know what the books told me: that it's lost," he explained, trying to contain the excitement on his voice.
"Of course it's lost," whispered the ghost, bowing her head and taking a deep breath. "I made sure it would be lost forever."
"You?"
"My mother never told anyone, not even her closest friends, what really happened to her diadem." A sad smile spread across her face as she looked up to him once again. "She thought it would be too much of a shame to tell them that her own daughter had stolen it from underneath her protection…"
"You stole Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem?" asked Riddle, not really believing in what the other was telling him. "Why?"
"Because I knew very well I could be as great as my mother!" Suddenly, the Grey Lady assumed a pose he had never seen on her before. Her voice lost its serenity and was now sounding dangerous and defensive as she leaned towards him, her dark eyes burning with anger. "I was nothing but a shadow besides the great Rowena Ravenclaw! I knew I could be as good as her, if not better! I could take care of Hogwarts after they were all gone, I could continue teaching witches and wizards, I could help the wizarding world like my mother had done, but what was the point if I would forever be only the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw? No one would know Helena Ravenclaw, only Rowena's daughter… Unless I exceeded her. And the diadem, Mr. Riddle, was my way to shine brighter than her."
'I wonder how you did not end up in Slytherin," the boy caught himself thinking as he looked at the woman, who was now calming down and assuming her former miserable appearance.
"So I took the diadem and fled from Hogwarts. I would use it to do something great, something that would make me as important as my mother and then I would return it her… I had no interest in keeping it forever. I knew how dear it was to her and I just needed it for a while, just until I figured out how to stop being Ravenclaw's daughter." The Grey Lady shook her head, pressing her lips against each other firmly. "But it never happened, right? No one knows about Helena Ravenclaw and, when they do, they know her as the child of one of the founders… I should have had more time. I would have done it right hadn't it been for him. My name would be written in numerous history books and my mother would have lived longer hadn't he showed up-"
"He?"
"The Baron. He had always been a man with a difficult temper, our dear Baron." She let an unhappy laugh escape from her mouth. "And he used to love me even though I did not return his feelings. My mother thought it would be wise to send him after me because he was determined, he would convince me to travel back home. But he didn't. And he lost his temper when I refused to return with him. It's no wonder that the Baron is covered in so much blood nowadays…"
"He killed you?" asked Tom, astonished, as he remembered the Slytherin ghost's robes covered with blood, a sight that had always scared the students. "The Bloody Baron killed you?"
"And then killed himself. But what's done is done. The fact he carries those horrendous chains up and down this castle does not make me alive again, nor does it brings my mother back…"
"Rowena…?"
"My mother died shortly after she heard of my death. Though I returned to Hogwarts before she passed away, I was not brave enough to face her again. The Baron took longer to return… Helga said she died of a broken heart, my mother. She liked to dramatize things, Helga," said Helena. "It all happened because of my own pride. My death, my mother's downfall, the lost of the diadem…"
"What happened to it? The diadem." Before he could notice, the words slipped past his lips. "You took it with you, did the Baron find it?"
"Before he found me, I hid it in a hollow tree. It's impossible for an ordinary wizard to find it," she whispered and then stared at Tom, cocking her head to the side. "But you are no ordinary wizard, are you, Mr. Riddle?"
"I like to think I'm not, my lady." Riddle watched as the spirit floated towards him, leaning her torso so her face would be on the level of his eyes. She had beautiful eyes, he noticed, so dark it was impossible to distinguish her irises from her pupils.
"Would you do me a favour, my dear?"
"Anything for you, Helena." He made sure to use her first name, as if it indicated he was not thinking of her as Rowena's daughter, but as Helena herself.
"You're such a powerful wizard, so determined and intelligent. You understand the sorrow that diadem brought to its owners, don't you? A wizard like you does not need such kind of magic to get your power working at its highest."
"You surely overestimate me…"
"Of course not." She raised her pearly hand until her slim fingers touched – or went through - his temples, as if she was trying to comb his hair back, before travelling down his cheek until they found his chin. "I have lived with some of the most powerful witches and wizards of history. My mother, Helga, Godric, Slytherin… I know power when I see it, and you, Mr. Riddle, have it. I need someone like you to go to my former hiding place, find the diadem and destroy it for me. It's nothing but a piece of metal bond to bring bad luck to the one who holds it."
The ghost of Helena Ravenclaw would never know who Lord Voldemort was. She would never know that the good Tom Riddle had disobeyed her and taken her mother's diadem from wherever she had hidden it, simply because she would never know the polite student that was so interested in her was the same person as the wizard who would rise in power in a few years from that moment. No one would ever relate Tom Riddle to Voldemort.
"And where is it hidden, Helena?"
A/N: Again a pretty long chapter, though this one was not beta read, sorry, I was kind of excited to post this for a couple of friends of mine because of the appearance of Helena Ravenclaw. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, both because of Brax/Hermione scene and because of Helena's scene... I'm still getting used to her, but I really enjoy writing her character and her relationship with Tom.
I posted last chapter so quickly that I forgot to answer a review here, so, Mimi: I'm really happy to hear you're enjoying the story! :D and that you liked the bit with the Russian history and Tommy's reaction to Martha and Alexei's personal life, I was a bit afraid of that because, as you said, it adds vulnerability to his character and, well, we don't really see this in book!Tom/Voldemort, as his only vulnerabilities seems to be his fear of death and not being able to love.
On another note: Kolybel'naya has been nominated for Most Promising Harry Potter Fanfiction in the Energizer WIP Award. I didn't even know about it until I received a MP telling me about the story being nominated... Someone must have submitted it to the Award so, thank you, whoever did it! :D Also, the voting for it is open, so... you know, if you want, it would be amazing if you guys tried to vote for it :) the link for their website is this one: www.energizewipawards.blogspot.com.br. Again, thanks to whoever submitted Kolybel to it. :D
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. As always, reviews are amazing. (: