Chapter 17: What You Didn't Know
With his hand firmly holding her head in place, he lowered his head even closer to hers, until their noses almost touched staring into the amber wells of her eyes.
"Legilim-"
"Legilimens!" With the last breath, Serena spat out the incantation, and suddenly Tom found himself being tossed down a very familiar memory line…
Hermione's vision went temporarily black, as the spell slowly pulled her deep into Tom Riddle's mind. Pictures, memories twisted by mind of their owner, animatedly zoomed by her in a blur of colors, voices and unexpressed feelings. She saw faces, some familiar and some she have never seen. They all spoke, intently telling their stories, sharing secrets without batting an eye like if under imperius spell. Some spoke loudly, their voices resonating in her ears, while the quieter were completely swallowed by the unharmonious hum of thousand words being spoken at once. She saw Tom's first memory of herself on the day Slughorn chose her to be his dueling partner, his acceptance to be Prefect and trip to Hogsmeade. She saw a sorting ceremony filled with Slytherins' cheers and a smiling face of young Albus Dumbledore as he explained the principles of transfiguration to a class of 1st years.
The deeper into Riddle's mind she went, the slower everything seemed to pass. All the memories dragged around her in slow motion, their abstract inhabitants barely moving, muffled and hazed over with thick mist. Finally, everything came to halt and Hermione found herself in an unfamiliar room created by Voldemort's young mind. Quietly, she watched children of various ages to excitedly run around, giggling and chattering, until a big wooden door swung open and two middle aged women walked in. Children immediately ceased their games and swiftly lined up in the middle of the room. One of the women, a short, plump lady with graying hair and dark purple apron, smiled approvingly at the row of children and gently ushered the other woman forward.
"Here they are, Mrs…Uh…I apologize, what did you say your name was?"
The other woman smiled, obviously unoffended by the older care-taker's forgetfulness and loosely waved her hand.
"Ainsworth" she answered, eyes scanning from child to child.
Ainsworth? Pondered Hermione silently. She loosely remembered woman of that name living in the house next to her parents' house. Old Mrs. Ainsworth was a reclusive, but otherwise pleasant widow living in a small house at the edge of the neighborhood. As a small child Hermione was send over on occasions to feed the cat when Mrs. Ainsworth was away. But the woman in Tom's memory couldn't be the same person as even with the time shift, she was far too young.
"Let me see them!" Mrs. Ainsworth laughed.
Her voice was soft, unhindered and strangely familiar. Frowning, Hermione took few steps closer to get better look. The woman, in her mid-thirties, was of average height and surprisingly average looks. Her dark blond hair was styled in traditional way of 1940s and outside of few pale freckles at the tip of her nose, there was really nothing to talk about.
"Right, right!" exclaimed the older woman, clapping her hands together and signaling towards the children. "So, Mrs. Ainsworth, are you looking for a boy or girl? Over here" she pointed to a little blond girl on the end of the line: "is Veronica. She is just finished her 2nd year with all As. Oh, yes, very smart girl. She in bound to make you very proud! And other there, that is Lucy-"
"Ah, very good." Smiled Mrs. Ainsworth, patiently listening to old care-taker's blabber introducing each child like they were nothing but commodities. At the end of the line, the care-taker turned questioningly towards the lady.
"What about him?" asked Mrs. Ainsworth suddenly, pointing somewhere behind Hermione. Everyone present turned towards a door at furthers corner of the room. In a small crack between the door frame and the door, a tiny set of obsidian eyes watched attentively all that was happening.
"Oh, that is little Tom, but I don't think-" the care-taker was about to argue, but the younger was already walking towards the door. Hermione slowly followed. Mrs. Ainsworth stopped by the door, carefully leveling her smiling face with the hidden boy.
"Hello, there, Tom, is it?" she said with a friendly tone. Tom, still mostly hidden behind the door, nodded.
"Ah, and how old are you, Tom?" Mrs. Ainsworth asked, obviously determined to befriend small boy. Little Riddle paused for a minute, but after while raised 3 fingers as high as he could, making sure the unfamiliar woman could see.
Mrs. Ainsworth laughed, her full voice resonating through the room: "Three? Oh, my! Almost a man, hmm!"
"Yes, madam…"peeped the boy insecurely from behind the door. Mrs. Ainsworth laughed again and carefully pushed the door open, revealing a petite boy dressed in over-sized pants and worn gray shirt. His hair was thick, black as a coal and unkempt. There were pink streaks running from his red-rimmed eyes down over his plum cheeks; his face spoke of tears and sadness.
Mrs. Ainsworth sighed compassionately: "Tom, were you crying?" Upon hearing the question, Tom immediately rubbed the remaining wetness off of his face.
"Of course not, madam" he defended.
"Ah" the women nodded understandingly: "I did not think so. Big boys don't cry after all!" She declared like it was as undeniable fact, and send Tom one of the loveliest smiles Hermione has ever seen.
"At least, I haven't seen any yet." continued Mrs. Ainsworth, winking lightly at Tom.
Then Hermione heard something she thought she would never hear: Tom giggled, happily, like nothing else in the world mattered. His dark eyes shone with admiration for the woman. Mrs. Ainsworth smiled back and waived her hand towards the care-taker.
"Would you like to come home with me, Tom?"
Before Hermione could see more, strong surge of magic pushed her out of the memory and into the darkness of present time.
(end of the memory)
"Stop!" growled Riddle, blindly grabbing onto stray strands of his hair, obviously fighting the pain that came with having your mind probed by Legilimency spell. Hermione coughed, finally having enough oxygen in her lungs. All the magic that was around them before was gone and replaced by crisp night air.
Riddle finally stopped squeezing his eyes shut and raised his head to look at her, his eyes narrowed dangerously, but whether from anger or suspicion, Hermione couldn't tell. There was a long pause when neither of them moved, both too engaged in silent staring contest. Suddenly Tom launched forward and Hermione was sure he is about to choke her again, but instead he used all his power to grab her right arm. Viciously, in one swift move, he yanked her wand holster off.
Before she had even time to react Voldemort's fingers traced the profanity carved into the flesh o her forearm.
He knows.
Hermione did not dare to move. This was it, she thought bitterly. Surely, he will kill her now that he knows or he will tell everyone and her disguise will be ruined…
But when he looked back up at her face, there was only curiosity in his eyes.
"Hermione…" he whispered her name, more to himself than her and Hermione's breath caught in her throat.
He knows!
How?
"What is going on here?!" voice shrieked from the end of the dark corridor and two lights appeared not far from the duo.
Both promptly scrambled to their feet, despite the pain from previous fight. As fast as her still dizzy mind allowed her, Hermione brushed up her hair and tighten her dark jacket around her.
"Mr. Riddle? Ms. Durand?" the high-pitched voice belonged to Professor Darkwater, a short feisty herbology expert and a current head of Hufflepuff house, who did not seem too happy to see them. Next to her stood the Minerva McGonagall, the head girl, face showing only mild surprise.
"Please, explain, what are you two doing out of your dormitories at this hour?" the woman demanded sternly, surprisingly oblivious to their disarrayed looks.
Hermione's eyes flickered to Tom, but he was as stoic as her.
"Mr. Riddle?" the professor prompted impatiently when neither responded.
"My apologies, Professor" Riddle smiled pleasantly like nothing happened. "I was doing my perfect rounds, when I happened to come across Ms. Durand. It sees that she has fallen asleep in the library and then had problems finding her way around the castle. I was just about to show her to the common room."
"Ah, I see…"pondered the professor: "Gentleman as always."
"Mr Riddle, why don't you continue your rounds and we will let Minerva show Ms Durand the way."
"Of course" agreed Riddle almost immediately. Hermione, still mildly dizzy, slowly nodded. Trying her best to appear normal. Those few shots of firewhisky and subsequent run, was taking its toll and she was suddenly feeling exhausted.
Without another word, she followed Minerva down the hall, doing her best not to limp. The faster she got away from Riddle, the better.
Tom watched the French with until she disappeared behind the corner and then turned back to professor Darkwater.
"If that is all, madam, I will return to my duties" he offered politely. Darkwater just waved her hand and departed.
Tom turned to leave, when he spotted a small piece of paper of the floor where Hermione stood just seconds ago. It must have fallen out of her pocket. Cautiously he picked it up and slit into his pocket.
TBC