Author's Note: This chapter was unbelievably hard for me to write. It also happens to be one of the shorter chapters, but you'll have to forgive me. This is the last pre-Hogwarts chapter, so the pace of the story should pick up a bit.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.
"I'm sorry I'm late, My Lord."
Riddle's eyes flicked up towards the boy standing near the door. He was wearing a smug look, though it dropped away when their eyes met. That was what he hated about Avery; after long breaks, the boy always returned rather not obedient. It always took Riddle at least a week to get him back on track again. It seemed that even though Avery was cursed repeatedly for his sassy attitude and ignorance, the boy never learned.
There also had been that one summer after first year that Avery had came back and challenged Riddle for the spot of the leader. Who did he think he was? There was a reason that he had been held back a year. The only reason that Riddle kept him around was because he was a year older, and that extra year often helped Riddle complete whatever he needed to complete. Not to mention, if he ever got in trouble—which was rarely; he was great at covering up his tracks—he would send Avery to take the blame for him.
"How nice of you to join us, Avery," Riddle said smoothly. He arranged his face in a perfectly blank face, not reflecting the annoyance he felt. Everyone else had gotten there on time. No one else seemed to have misunderstood his instructions. The boy was five minutes late. Five minutes he could've been doing better things.
Like interrogating Granger.
Avery fidgeted, much to Riddle's pleasure. "I'm sorry, My Lord. I got lost."
"You got lost?" Riddle sneered at him, his tone even and controlled. His eyes flashed red, something he had been able to get them to do after he acquired the diary. It was a good tool, indeed, for intimidating his prey. It had been flashes at first, but now he was better at controlling it. "How many times have you been to Abraxas's house already? You got lost?" The boy opened his mouth, but Riddle was in no mood to listen to his excuses. "Sit down."
The boy did as he was told, sitting down in between Black and Abraxas. Riddle almost scowled when he saw the arrogant look cross Avery's face. What made him think he could openly defy him and talk back to him like that? He ought to curse him, but he had a more important business to take care of.
"I assume all of you know why we are gathered here," Riddle said quietly, looking around. He had decided against inviting the rest of his followers. Not because they wouldn't come-he would've ensured that they did-but because it would look too suspicious. Granger was already on his back enough already, and he didn't need her slave buddies or Abraxas's family to start wondering, and he certainly did not need Dumbledore to come over out of the 'goodness' of his heart.
Gabriel was not invited to join Riddle's little group. He had considered it, of course, but even though the older Malfoy son definitely had an evil enough heart, he was a wimp. His magic abilities rivaled those of first years, and when under pressure, the boy would say everything. Riddle couldn't have his followers like that. If the old codger were to get a hold on Gabriel, all his secrets would be revealed, and Dumbledore would have the solid proof he needed to get Riddle thrown in Azkaban.
Walburga was sitting daintily next to her cousin, Black. Her hair was curled up and she was blinking flirtingly at Riddle. He was about to turn away and ignore her when he spotted Avery's furious glare. It was obviously directed towards Walburga, as he would be dead before he even thought about glaring at Riddle. Seeing an opportunity too good to resist, Riddle turned towards Walburga and winked at her. The girl's giggle was a sign that he was still quite charming, and Avery flushed deep red. Abraxas saw the exchange and smirked at him.
Riddle had invited Abraxas to this little circle, because obviously, they needed one of the Malfoy's permission, seeing as it was their house. However, even if that hadn't been the case, he would've probably invited him anyways. Abraxas was a good follower. He was obedient, and he did whatever he was told to do without questioning. Therefore, Abraxas was rewarded. He wanted to show the others what would happen to them if they obeyed him.
Black…he was also one of his loyal followers, but sometimes he got too carried away. Like with the Truth and Dare game, Riddle thought to himself. Though, that game had proved to be valuable. He had found out a lot of things from the game. For example, Granger was a half blood. Seeing how her mother's name was Monika Wilkes, who was a respected witch who died three years ago, did that mean that Granger's father was a mudblood? Was Granger's family similar to his? He would have to do more investigations.
And the kiss. He didn't want to think about the kiss, so he didn't.
Avery and Lestrange were both questionable, and since Lestrange was on vacation with his parents—ever the father's son, Riddle thought, amused—Avery was the one left. Even though Avery was, by no means, even close to being his third close follower, he was older. And if he was older, he could apparate them legally. And of course, ever the loyal girl friend, Walburga had demanded to come along to accompany Avery. Riddle saw under her tricks though; Walburga cared about Avery as much as she cared about Gabriel. She just wanted to be close to Riddle. It was rather annoying at times, but the witch had her uses.
"No, My Lord," Abraxas said dutifully when no one else spoke up. Good boy, Riddle though. Abraxas knew better than anyone that Riddle hated when silence met his question. "I suspect it has something to do with Hogwarts, though."
"You are correct," Riddle swept his eyes around the room. Avery was leaning back against his chair, looking bored. Riddle seethed angrily; he would punish the boy when they were in a more secretive place. Walburga was winking and grinning flirtingly at him. Well, there was nothing he could do about that. Abraxas had his complete attention towards Riddle. At least he still remembered his place after the break, unlike Avery. Black was looking in disgust at his cousin. Ever since the incident in third year where the two of them had erupted in a fight—over Riddle, no less—the two of them weren't quite civil with each other.
"Where are you going?" Avery replied bluntly.
"Diagon Alley."
"Diagon Alley?" Avery blurted out. Abraxas turned and shot him a warning glance, but the other boy didn't notice. "Why are we going to Diagon Alley? I already have all of my stuff that I need for Hogwarts."
Riddle narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, noting, pleased, that the boy started trembling slightly. He fingered his wand, and that motion did not go unnoticed by Avery. "Rest assured, we are not going for your pleasure. I am only bringing you along so you can apparate us. If you have better things to do, you may. I'm not forcing you to stay, Avery."
The boy drew in a shaky breath. He knew, as well as everyone in the room, that Riddle might as well have been forcing him to stay. Avery couldn't leave, not unless he wished to be cursed. He gulped and nodded, and wisely remained silent.
Good. Now only if the boy would keep his mouth closed for the rest of his life.
"My Lord," It was Abraxas again. "May I ask why we are going to Diagon Alley?"
"We are going," Riddle said smoothly. "to buy school supplies for Granger, of course."
Abraxas's jaw immediately dropped, his eyes bulging as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Black smirked, recognizing the name. He seemed pleased about the news. Riddle narrowed his eyes; it wasn't easy to please Black. Walburga was clueless, but decided to play along and pretend she knew who Granger was, batting her eyes attractively at Riddle. The scent of her strong perfume reached his nose and he almost gagged.
Right on cue, the subject of their conversation appeared at the door. "Abraxas," There stood Granger, panting, as if she had been running. She was wearing her usual navy blue hoodie with jeans, and her hair was tied up in a ponytail. "I need to apologize for-"
She stopped, her eyes wide, taking in the company. Avery sat up to get a better look at her, his eyes narrowing, and Black even waved cheekily. Walburga, however, stared at her, recognition flicking into her eyes as she regarded Granger with hatred.
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"This is so cool!"
"Calm down, Granger," Riddle sounded amused. "All we're doing right now is tapping a brick wall."
"Maybe she's just easily impressed," Black pointed out, though neither he nor Abraxas were paying any attention towards the wall. The two of them engaged in a flicking war with each other.
The apparition had gone relatively well. When she had stepped into Abraxas's room with muggle clothes instead of her rags, she had been met with the sight of four other people along with him. She had recognized Riddle, Black and Walburga, and she later found out that the pale boy next to Abraxas was Avery. She realized how incredibly bad her position was. To put it mildly, Walburga had thrown a fit when she had seen her standing there, so she guessed that she wouldn't be allowed to live at the Manor anymore, not unless she wanted to face Walburga's wrath. Well, it was only delaying the inevitable. She would've surely run into Walburga at Hogwarts, anyways, and she didn't fancy being cursed in front of the whole school.
Not that she can hit me.
Avery, though, was a complete prick. She usually judged people by her first impression of them, and her first impression of Avery was horrid. When he had saw her, the first words to come out of his mouth was, "Tom said that there was going to be a girl coming with us, but I didn't expect her to be a scrawny slave."
Avery had made a face and refused to touch her, even after Riddle finally lost control and cursed him.
Just when Avery's refusal and Walburga's glaring were getting the point where Hermione was going to just apparate herself there—law be damned—Abraxas surprisingly leant her his hand. She heard Avery protesting, and Walburga's disgusted look on the two of them, but Hermione took his hand thankfully, smiling up at him. She knew how to apparate, of course. She could hardly survive in the Grindelwald household if she didn't. However, she was still underage.
As soon as they got to Diagon Alley, Walburga and Avery had immediately left after hearing Riddle's order for them to come back before four. The two of them had left, but not before throwing glares back at Hermione. Hermione had sighed, but hadn't minded. There were just some people that were impossible to please.
Frankly, she was okay with her company. Abraxas, was, of course, fine with her again and she found out quickly that she didn't mind Black that much anymore. He had been nothing but nice to her, though he threw in a couple perverted responses every now and then.
And then, of course, was Riddle.
Hermione gaped happily as the wall opened up, revealing a bustling town. Shops flanked both sides of the road, and it was crowded as people ran back and forth, doing their last minute shopping. Riddle smirked at her reaction and said silkily, "Welcome to Diagon Alley."
"Where are we going first?" Abraxas inquired, stepping into the town. Hermione followed breathlessly behind him, drinking in everything. The sound of people chattering filled her ears. No pictures nor blocks of text could ever describe this. "Any place caught you eye, Hermione?"
"Yes," she said excitedly, and hurried down the cobble stone path. "Oh my, they're so many books in here!" She hurried towards a store named Flourish & Botts.
"How did I know?" Abraxas groaned, and then tugged Black in the other direction. "Tom?" he asked, addressing the other boy by his first name as they were in public. Riddle turned towards him. "Would it be alright if Black and I went to look at Quidditch supplies? I know how Hermione is with books, so it'll take a rather long time, and I just thought we could go to the Quidditch store in the meantime and not waste any time."
Riddle stared at him, and then nodded. An easy grin covered Abraxas's face, and he dipped his head slightly. Not enough to cause murmurs that there was a person bowing, but enough to show Riddle that the boy was being respectful. The two of them then went towards the Quidditch store, leaving Riddle to follow Hermione.
By the time he managed to get into the bookstore, he found her hunched over a book. Smirking, he leaned over her. She was so engrossed in her book that she didn't notice him until he was right there. She jumped up in shock.
"What are you reading, Granger?" Riddle asked haughtily.
Hermione showed him the cover. There were seven simple letters written in elegant, gold letters. Animagi. Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Never knew you were interested in something like that."
"I'm not," Hermione said, and closed the book, setting it back on the shelf. "I will never transform myself to an animal. That's just weird, plus, what if I end up in an animal I don't like? Like…say…snakes."
Riddle raised an eyebrow. "For someone who doesn't like snakes, Granger, you hang around them a lot," he purred in her ear.
Hermione ignored him. "But, there's knowledge I can acquire from this book, so I read it. It's actually interesting."
Riddle smirked. "People who are animagi are pathetic. They're too weak, so they have to change their physical features in order to make up for it."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you have to scoff everyone who's different?"
Riddle's lips curled slightly. "Yes." That was all the explanation he offered. He produced a piece of parchment from his robes and held it out for her. "Here's your supply list, Granger. Bring it up to the counter."
Hermione's face fell. "You mean we can't look for the books on our own?" Riddle shook his head, an amused expression plastered on his face. "Aw, bummer. I wanted to find each book by myself."
"You're a strange girl, Granger," Riddle mused. "Time is precious."
"I want stall," Hermione admitted. "The more time I spend among books, the happier."
"Why am I not surprised?" Riddle smirked. "Well, take your time, Granger. Abraxas and Black are at the Quidditch store, and it's impossible to get them to leave that quickly. In the meantime, I'm going to look at my own books." He gave her a small wave, and headed towards the Dark Arts section.
Of course.
Hermione excitedly looked around. This was awesome. There were so many books here that she had never seen before. She reached for the first one that she saw, a pale book on the top of the shelf, only to have her fingers brush up against someone else's.
That 'someone else' was a boy with red hair and who was slightly taller than her. He wore robes, but they were tattered, faring only slightly better than her rags. He looked about her age, and he grinned at her, which she returned hesitantly.
"Hey, I'm Ron Weasely," He introduced himself good naturally. "I've never seen you around here before. Are you new?"
"Yeah." Hermione nodded, still eyeing the cheerfully boy. He seemed familiar, though she couldn't place where she had seen him before. This is another 'Tim' situation, she thought to herself. "I'm Hermione Granger," she added. "Nice to meet you."
"Are you going to Hogwarts?" Ron asked, handing the book they had both been reaching for to her, and gesturing for them to sit in two of the chairs near the window.
"Yes, I am," Hermione sat down in the chair, putting the book on the table in between them. She flipped it open. Its title was Most Dangerous Dark Wizards of All Time. She stared. Of course she would pick up this book. "I'm going tomorrow."
He looked at her, sizing her up, before asking, "What year are you?"
"Fifth."
Ron said, "We're in the same grade. How come you didn't attend Hogwarts before?"
Hermione flipped the book a couple of pages, watching as the criminals in the pictures thrashed around wildly. "I lived in Russia," she explained.
"Russia?" Ron's eyes were wide. "What is it like in Russia?"
Hermione shrugged; it had been awhile since she had been in Russia. Her father had made her move around, first to France, then Italy, and now finally Britain. "It was cold," she said finally. "Lots of snow."
Ron nodded. "Well, welcome to Britain. It's nice here. It snows, but not too much. And Hogwarts is just amazing. Do you guys have a magic school in Russia?"
Hermione shrugged. She didn't know. There probably wasn't. Even if there was, her father would've never mentioned it to her. He didn't want her to be showing her power to others. That was why she had been extremely surprised when he let her go to Hogwarts.
He probably has an elaborate plan that I won't notice until it's right in front of me, Hermione thought to herself. She wouldn't put it past him; it wouldn't be the first time.
"Well, Hogwarts is amazing," Ron continued. "The food is awesome. You eat in the Great Hall. There are four tables for the four houses. The four houses are Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor." He added smugly. "Gryffindor is by far the best."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. If only Riddle heard that, she smirked to herself. "I'm guessing you're in Gryffindor," she responded.
"Of course I am," Ron said lightly. "Don't I look enough like a lion to you?"
Hermione laughed. She didn't point out that out of the two of them, she was the one who looked most like a lion with her scrawny hair. However, she was convinced that she wouldn't go to Gryffindor. Gryffindors valued bravery. She wasn't brave.
A brave person would've run away a long time ago.
"Anyways," Ron continued, not noticing the thoughtful expression on her face. "There's also Quidditch. Do you know what Quidditch is?"
Hermione nodded. I don't think Abraxas gave me a choice there, Hermione snorted. He had ranted about the sport for thirty minutes straight. She learned to avoid that topic from then on, and had ducked into the nearest room whenever he ran towards her, his expression eager. Abraxas never got quite as happy about anything else as he did with Quidditch.
"You know a lot about Hogwarts," Ron commented, and Hermione nodded. Of course she did; Hogwarts was her dream school, after all, and she had read numerous books on them. She would know even more if the stupid Slytherins hadn't clammed up every time she approached the subject.
Hermione batted her eyebrows, trying to put on her best puppy face. "I bet there are still a lot of things you could tell me that I don't know," she said innocently.
Thankfully, Ron was not like Black, Abraxas or Riddle. He grinned and said easily, "What would you like to know?"
Finally, someone willing! "I don't know," Hermione admitted. There was so much she wanted to find out about. "Maybe the classes? Which classes are you taking?"
"Eh, this year? Not too many. We have the O.W.L. exam to take this year, so I don't want to overbook it. It takes too much studying if I have too many classes." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm aiming for an E on all my subjects."
"An E?" Hermione replied, flabbergasted. "That's an atrocious grade." She noticed the flabbergasted look on his face, and quickly added, "...no offense or anything."
Ron laughed. "Hermione, Hogwarts grades it differently than your school probably did. E symbolizes Exceeds Expectations, and is the second highest grade you can get. It isn't like regular school where E is the second lowest-"
"I know that, of course," Hermione said, slightly offended. "All E's? That's not what you should be aiming for. One E occasionally is acceptable, but you have to get all O's. Otherwise, you may not live a good life. No one wants people who only get E's."
Ron stared at her before he lauged. "Of course it's my luck," he said between chuckles. "That I run into a bookworm. I'll have you know that I'm the worst slacker in the world." He grinned at her. "What classes are you taking, then?"
She knew her classes by heart. "Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, Artihmancy, and Care of Magical Creatures." She paused. "That's it. I'm not taking Divination, because that class is a joke, and not Muggle Studies either." Because Father would flip if he ever found out I was learning about muggles.
Ron looked shocked. "Tell me you're joking."
"I'm not," Hermione said, offended. "You think I can't handle this?"
"No, but," Ron lowered his voice in a whisper. "No one takes this many classes. Not even the worst of all bookworms. Except, of course, Riddle."
Of course Riddle would take all the classes. "Riddle?" she asked innocently.
"I forgot you didn't know," Ron said. "Tom Riddle is the biggest suck up Hogwarts has ever known. He kisses up to teachers, except, of course, Dumbledore. Dumbledore can see straight through him." Hermione detected pride in his voice.
"Dumbledore?"
Ron nodded vigorously. "He's the head of Gryffindor, and I couldn't have picked a better man to take the job. He's the only one who can keep the Slytherins in check."
Hermione was musing quietly when Ron added, "There's something wrong with him."
There's more than 'something' wrong with him. Everything is wrong with him. "Is there?"
"Yeah. Everyone has learned that making Riddle mad is as good as a death wish. Strange things happen to those who irritate him. However, no one ever traces the curses back to him. He's too careful, and he's good. If anyone gets in trouble, it's always his followers," he looked at her. "His followers follow him around like puppies."
Hermione fell silent, musing to herself. That certainly sounded like the Riddle she knew. Ron dropped the subject and glanced down at the page she just absentmindedly flipped to and said, "He's evil."
Hermione looked down, and was met by the smirking face of her father. He gave her a provoking wink. She glanced at the number at the top of the page. One. Of course he would be the most darkest wizard of all time, she thought wryly. They dedicated an entire chapter just to his wrongdoings. Twenty six pages. He sure gathered quite a list.
"Yeah," Hermione said in a small voice, scanning over the content. He made every killing he did seem like an accomplishment. He even made a medal for himself. "It seems so."
Ron stared at her. "You've never heard of Grindelwald before?"
No, of course not, Hermione thought sarcastically to herself. I've only been living with him for my whole life. "Of course I have. He's all over the news. I would be blind not to."
Ron nodded, seemingly okay with her answer. "We're just lucky we have Dumbledore to protect us in Hogwarts," he shuddered. "Everyone knows that Hogwarts is Grindelwald's main target."
Hermione blinked. Her father had never mentioned targeting Hogwarts. He was more focused on muggleborns, and there were definitely places that were more populated with muggleborns than Hogwarts. "Why is that?" she asked, trying not to sound too curious.
"Hogwarts is full of magical teenagers." Ron explained. "A lot of them are strong and magically capable, but they are easily persuaded. If he could persuade a lot of the students to join his side, he would be unstoppable." Ron frowned. "He's already unstoppable now, so it'll make him….unstoppable-er?"
Ron glanced down, his expression sad. "You know, he killed my sister last year,"
Hermione's head whipped up, but Ron's eyes were focused on something in the distance. "Her name was Ginny," he explained. "She foolishly ran off with my best friend last year to be together." Ron sighed. ""The two of them were already dating, and even though it took me some time to get used to it, I did. The two of them still felt uncomfortable with me around, though, so they went on nightly hiking adventures. I mean, isn't it idiotic to hike at night?" He barked out a dry laugh. "Anyways, only my best friend came back. Ginny had died. The two of them had stumbled upon a secret gathering of Grindelwald's. It's a miracle that my best friend came back alive."
"What happened to your best friend?" she asked softly.
"I got mad at him," Ron said hollowly. "He ran away."
"I'm sorry," Hermione said. I'm sorry that my father's such a bastard. "I'm sorry for your loss, Ron."
"It's the past," Ron shrugged, trying to look indifferent, but failing. "I'm learning to move on. Sure, it's slow, but at least I'm getting somewhere, right?"
Hermione nodded. "I'm sure your sister and your best friend would be proud of you, wherever they are."
Ron's eyes dulled. "I don't know. Technically, I caused Ginny's death. If I hadn't been so damn awkward the first two years of their relationship, maybe the two of them wouldn't have the need to run away to get away from me. And my best friend, he hates me. Otherwise, he wouldn't have run away."
Hermione said, "You never know." She thought of Harry. He, too, had a best friend that had run away from him. Maybe the two of them should meet one day.
Ron smiled bitterly. "Now that I've forced my life on you, what about yours?"
"No, it's okay," Hermione smiled gently. She didn't want to talk about her life. "My life's boring. Just books, and studying. I doubt you want to hear about it."
Ron's face immediately lightened up. Maybe Riddle's not the only one who's bipolar. "What about Quidditch?" he asked.
Hermione thought back to the last time she flew with Abraxas. That had been interesting. "I'd rather die than fly." Ron's expression fell. "I do know some people who are quite good at flying, though, so I know a lot on it."
"Really?" Ron's expression brightened. "What position do they play? I'm a keeper," he said proudly.
"One of them plays seeker," she said, thinking of how Abraxas always threw around the snitch. She had seen him play chaser, though, so maybe he played multiple positions. Or maybe he just played chaser to train Black. "The other plays chaser."
"Do these friends of yours go to Hogwarts?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes."
"I might know them," Ron grinned. "Who are they?"
Before Hermione could respond, she heard a ridiculously high voice singing out, "Hermioneeee, where are youuuu?"
Hermione wanted to groan as Abraxas and Black headed her way, both carrying two packages that looked strangely like brooms. She noticed the amount of attention they seemed to be getting from the girls, but neither of them noticed. They stopped before her, grinning.
"There you are," Black declared. "Guess what? I have a new name for you."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know?"
"Of course," Black drawled. "Your new name is," he paused for the dramatic effect. "Tomione."
Hermione stared. "Tomione?"
"Yes," Black replied cheerfully. "Tom plus Hermione. Tomione. Rather clever, isn't it?"
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Hermione told him truthfully, and Black's expression fell. "Keep trying, though, Black. I'm sure you'll get there someday."
"I told him it was stupid," Abraxas grinned. "You should've heard him." He cleared his throat and did his best impression of Black. "Tom and Hermione have a beautiful love between them. They will make beautiful babies." Here, Hermione gagged. "He also would like to be the godfather of your children."
"Tough luck, Black," Hermione grinned at him. "We're not having children. Go ask someone else."
"Aw, that's too sad," Black replied. "You know if you ever need advice regarding that aspect, you can always come ask me," he winked at her. "I've been told I'm a particularly good teacher in that field, and I can even give you a demonstration-"
"It's okay," Hermione coughed forcibly, cutting him off. "I think I'm good."
"Pity," Black said, though he didn't sound too crestfallen. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."
Someone cleared their throat, and Hermione suddenly remembered that Ron was still there. He was looking at Black and Abraxas in…disgust? Abraxas glanced at him, contempt clearly written on his face. Black turned towards Ron with an evil snarl.
Ah. The so called 'house unity.'
"Nice to see you here, Weasley," Abraxas said, though his voice said clearly the opposite. "Are you buying school supplies? I didn't know your family had the money."
Ron glared at him, and then turned towards Hermione. His voice was distinctively colder than it had been earlier. "So I take it these are your two Quidditch friends," he spat out.
"I think I'm getting ear deficits." Black said. "Did I just hear you call us your 'friends?'" He cried mockingly and dramatically. "Who knew that Hermione actually liked me?"
Hermione frowned. "Go away, Black."
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron countered. "You forgot to buy your materials again?"
Black bent down and whispered in Hermione's year, "Second year, Abraxas spent all summer flying around, training for the Quidditch team. Anyways, he was so focused with training that he ended up forgetting his materials and had to use the school's for a month. Since his parents were on vacation, they couldn't buy it for him. Abraxas, being the Malfoy he was, made quite a big out of it. The school materials aren't in the best conditions. Nevertheless, it got him quite the reputation."
"I got the newest version of Cleansweep, which, no doubt, you cannot afford. That's too bad, isn't it? It looks like Slytherin will win the Quidditch cup again this year." Abraxas sneered, and for the first time, Hermione finally noticed the similarity between him and Riddle.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in." Ron responded haughtily. "We got pure talent."
Abraxas glared, and Hermione could've sworn that his body even glowed. However, before he could throw himself onto Ron, a voice behind him said, "Abraxas."
Riddle—she had forgotten he was even there—stood behind them. A stack of books were in his hand. He stepped around Abraxas, who had managed to calm himself down slightly, and dropped the books in front of Hermione. He told her, "These are your books for school."
Hermione's eyes lit up as she scanned them. They all looked so interesting! She momentarily forgot about the fight her friends were having, and instead turned and beamed at Riddle. "Thank you, Riddle," she gushed, happily picking one up and examined it. "Did you buy it for me?"
"I used Abraxas's money."
Abraxas sighed. "You're welcome, Hermione."
Hermione was too engrossed in her book to respond. She tuned out the world, not noticing that the four other boys around her were all watching her read. Riddle broke the silence first, turning and regarding Ron with an icy cold look.
"What are you doing here, Weasley?" He asked. "You are dismissed."
Ron's face turned red. "I am not one of your followers, Riddle," he hissed. "You can't order me around. I need to talk to Hermione."
"You did your fair share of talking to her," Abraxas said, glancing at Hermione. She was swatting away Black, who was attempting to read the book over her shoulders.
Black made a face. "Herbology? Who cares about that?"
"It's brilliant," was Hermione's response.
"Granger," Riddle said irritably. "Weasley here wants to talk to you, and then he'll finally leave. You better do so before I decide to use more...convincing methods." Ron noticably gulped, but to his credit, he didn't back down.
Hermione did as she was told, but glared at Riddle as well. Why couldn't they allow her to read in peace? "Be nice."
He smirked at her. "I'm not nice."
Hermione threw one last glare at Riddle before turning back to Ron. "Sorry about him," she pointed at Riddle, who was openly scowling now. "He's in a bad mood."
"I can see that," Ron eyed the boy. "You know, if you were close friends with Riddle, you should've stopped me before I badmouthed him."
Riddle tensed. "You were badmouthing me?" He hissed angrily, eyes narrowed.
"He wasn't badmouthing you," She said sharply, and then added, "Not much, anyways. Besides, everything he said was true." She turned towards Ron. "I'm not close friends with him. We're not even acquaintances, really."
Riddle's lips quirked upwards. "I beg to differ, Granger."
Hermione opened her mouth to retort when Ron spoke up. "Wow," a grin crossed her face, surprising her. She had expected him to be angry, or disgusted. "You have the Slytherins curled around your finger." The 'Slytherins' didn't look particularly happy at this statement, but Hermione herself beamed.
"Your time is up, Weasley. We have better things to do with our time." Riddle forcefully dragged Hermione towards the door. Black and Abraxas followed behind, levitating her books, though they were shooting glares at Ron the whole time.
Hermione managed to say, "Bye Ron," before Riddle dragged her outside and shut the door firmly behind them.
ஐ
Riddle was seething of anger when he left the bookstore. I wonder what crawled up his arse and died, Hermione thought to herself. His grip on her arm was painfully tight, and he dragged her roughly out of the store. She wondered if the books had put him in a bad mood. Maybe he had been searching for something, like he usually was, and he didn't find it.
He suddenly released his grip on her arm, and she stumbled backwards, glaring at him. He regarded her with a blank look, though his eyes still held anger in them. She wasn't going to back down, if that's what he wanted. She glared at him, rubbing her arm and said, "That hurt. What was that for?"
"Weasley was wasting my time," Riddle answered coldly.
"Because Merlin forbid that anyone angers Tom Riddle," Hermione muttered angrily under her breath.
Riddle ignored her and turned towards the other two. Only then did she realize that they were levitating her precious books. She reached towards one that was near Abraxas, but all the boy did was shift it out of her grasp, raising his eyebrows. Hermione sighed; she had been halfway through a page, too. Couldn't they let her read in peace?
Riddle said, "We're going to buy new robes for Granger. She can't run around looking like a…" The word was clearly hard for him to spit out; he obviously wanted to choose a much meaner word. "muggle."
They walked along in silence, until Hermione asked, "So, tell me about Ron."
Riddle raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, he was cut off by Abraxas. He had a murderous look on his face. "You should stay away from him, Hermione. He's not good for you."
And people like Riddle are good for me? Hermione thought skeptically to herself. However, she said out loud, "Why?"
"Because he's a Gryffindor," Black cut in. "House tensions. But Abraxas here is just sour because Weasley broke his nose third year. He never forgave him for that."
Abraxas scowled as Hermione stared. "It wasn't even an accident. He just flew over and punched me straight in the nose. But no, since Dumbledore was refereeing that game, I apparently flew into his outstretched fist. So Weasley got off, unpunished, and of course since I wasn't there, our team lost the game."
Hermione snorted. Everything has to do with Quidditch, doesn't it? "It doesn't sound improbable, you flying into Ron's fist. I've seen you fly, Abraxas."
Black laughed as Abraxas clenched his jaw, glaring at her. Riddle said nothing—he didn't even turn around—and continued walking towards the shop. He seemed to be in a particularly bad mood. She wondered what he was thinking.
"There was also what happened last year with his sister," Abraxas added after awhile. "His sister got bashed up by Grindelwald," Here, Hermione flinched, but neither of the boys noticed, and Riddle still hadn't turned around. "Some say she's still alive, but it's pretty obvious she is dead." She's dead, Hermione wanted to say. Or else I would've seen her in my father's cell. "Of course, he went crying, like any normal person was. But afterwards, he made a big deal out of it. Almost like he was proud of it."
Hermione frowned. That didn't sound like the Ron who had been talking about his sister before. "What did he do?"
"He brought it up as an excuse every time, which is weird for someone who wanted to forget so badly." Abraxas's voice rose into a high, girly pitch. Hermione wanted to point out that Ron didn't sound like that, but she figured that Abraxas wouldn't care. "I'm sorry I didn't do my homework, but I spent all last night crying over my sister. Why are you making fun of me, my sister just died! I can't take the test, I need to go home and comfort my family for the millionth time."
Maybe Ron was overly doing it, but she felt that he had the right to. Still, the hatred was clearly written on Abraxas's face, and she wisely chose to keep quiet, holding all her thoughts inside of her. She entered the shop after Riddle, who had gone to charm the woman behind the counter.
"You overdid it," she heard Black whisper to his friend, but both Hermione and Abraxas ignored him.
"Tom!" The woman cooed, patting Riddle's hand fondly. He was good. His face was arranged in a polite smile, and he leaned towards her comfortably. Nothing gave away the fact that he was acting. "It's so nice to see you here again!"
"Hello, Madam Malkins," Riddle said smoothly. "I'm afraid the time has come again to buy new robes."
"Of course," Madam Malkins gushed, taking the opportunity to allow her eyes to wander up and down Riddle's body; Hermione almost gagged. "Did you get tired of your old ones already? I can't blame you; they're some new ones in style I think you might love."
"Actually," Riddle drawled slowly. "They're not for me." His eyes flicked to where she stood awkwardly.
Madam Malkins' eyes drifted reluctantly away from Riddle and settled on something behind Hermione. "Mister Black! Mister Malfoy!" She exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Back again?"
"Nope, not us," Black shook his head and gestured towards Hermione. "Little shortcake here needs new robes."
Hermione turned and glared at him.
Madam Malkins narrowed her eyes at Hermione, all trace of her pleasantries gone. Hermione suddenly felt very nervous. "And who might you be?"
"I'm Hermione Granger," she nodded her head. "It's nice to meet you, Madam Malkins."
She had a feeling, though, that the sentiment was not returned. What had she done to deserve her hate? A quick look around answered her question; all the girls in the shop were either ogling at the three boys accompanying her or glaring at Hermione. Ah. So that's what it is.
"Do you know what size your…friend is?" Madam Malkins asked dryly, hopping off of her stool.
Hermione opened her mouth, but was quickly interrupted by Riddle. "Yes, in fact, I do," he smiled pleasantly. "She's size twelve."
Gasps met this statement, and Madam Malkins shot Hermione a skeptical look, before disappearing into the backroom. Hermione turned red and regarded Riddle angrily. "How do you know that, Riddle?"
"Secrets, Granger," Riddle said simply, before turning around and stalking after Madam Malkins.
Hermione sighed and turned around, finding Abraxas and Black in an intense poke war with each other. Walking up to them, she hissed in their ears, "People are watching you, you know."
Black looked up and met the gazes of several girls. He winked at them, before turning to smirk at Hermione. "Of course they're looking at me." He said haughtily. "Wouldn't you look if there was something sexy in front of you?"
Hermione didn't dignify a response.
Madam Malkins returned with Riddle, looking rather flushed. Hermione wondered what had happened between the two of them. Sure, Riddle could charm whoever he wanted, but did he even have to seduce them as well? Why did she even care? Madam Malkins directed Hermione over to a stool and started fitting her. Riddle watched, unabashed.
"There you are," Madam Malkins said, already bored. "Is that good?"
The woman had clearly expected her to say, 'yes.' However, since Hermione didn't quite like the woman, she said instead, "No. It's too big."
Madam Malkins scowled and her and went back into the backroom. This time, though, Riddle didn't follow her. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, smirking. He had obviously noticed the amount of stares he had been getting, and he loved it.
Attention hog.
"See, I'm not a size 12," she said. "So you were wrong."
"Sorry," Riddle said, not sounding very apologetic. "I'll be sure to look closer next time."
Madam Malkins returned before she could retort, and fitted her hastily. This time, Hermione couldn't find anything wrong with it, so she nodded. Madam Malkins even dared to breathe a sigh of relief. Hermione felt her irritatedness bubbling through her, but she resisted throwing a snarky comment at the woman. The faster she got out of there, the better.
The door opened once again, the bells jingling. Madam Malkins looked over her shoulders and called, "Welcome! I'll be with you in a second." She went back to putting Hermione's new robes into a bag.
"Well, well, little icky Hermione looks ready for Hogwarts," Black commented, smirking. Hermione smacked his arm, but she was grinning. She certainly felt ready.
Abraxas stepped around his friend and observed Hermione quietly. She looked up at him. Unexpectantly, he reached for her hair and tucked it behind her ear.
"You look nice," Abraxas said simply. It sounded so much like what Nick used to say. Never, 'you're beautiful,' or 'that dress is so pretty on you,' but always, 'you look nice.' She beamed up at Abraxas, and he responded with a small smile and a nod before he stepped away from her.
"That will be ten galleons," Madam Malkins' voice cut frostily through the silence. Riddle glanced towards Abraxas, who nodded numbly before tossing a couple of coins onto the counter. Madam Malkins threw a glare at Hermione, obvious displeased that Abraxas was paying for her, but Hermione shrugged it off. There was nothing she could do about it, anyways. She had no money She'd just find a way to pay him back later.
"Maybe I should give you a new name," Black whispered in her ear. "How does Abramione sound?"
Hermione responded dryly, "What's next, Oriomione?"
Black winked at her. "I'll look forward to it."
Hermione opened her mouth, but before the first word got out of her mouth, a voice behind her said, "Hermione?"
It was Ron, the redhead from before. He offered her a small smile, and then glared at her companions. She nodded back at him.
"Ron," she greeted. "Are you here to buy robes as well?"
"Actually, no," he admitted, ignoring Abraxas' jibe about using hand-me-downs. "I'm here with my friend. He's right over there, actually," he waved to someone hidden behind the aisles. "Hey, come over here. There's someone I want you to meet."
A boy stepped out from the aisles, and Hermione couldn't help but gap. He had blue hair that matched with his aqua eyes. He was taller than Ron, and his fingers were long and thin, like they were created to play the piano. He stopped and froze at the sight of her, and the two of them stared at each other. It seemed like everyone else in the store stopped talking, and Hermione was well aware that her companions were shooting strange looks at her, but she ignored them. There was only one thing that mattered now.
The boy who haunted her dreams.
"Nick," she whispered under her breath.
She saw out of the corner of her eye Riddle tense up when he heard the familiar name. Abraxas whispered something to Black, and a frown covered his face. Hermione wondered what Abraxas had said. Did Abraxas even know? Nick, however, took a step forward. "Hermione," he looked shocked to see her. He reached for her face, as if to convince herself that he was real. "I-"
Hermione snapped out of her stupor and closed the gap between them. Before Nick could get any more words out, she raised her hand and slapped him straight across the face.
