Chapter Three: Friends of the Heir, Beware
October came, and with it, the growing respect and hesitation of the Hogwarts Staff concerning Hermione Granger.
Hermione had begun to notice a difference in how the faculty treated her. She had stopped raising her hand quite so insistently, and she realized with some embarrassment that her teachers liked her much more for it. Professor Snape had even gave her five points in Potions class when he cold-called on her ("I am ecstatic to discover, Miss Granger, that you have learned the immeasurable value of a restrained tongue.")
She didn't know exactly why she didn't feel the need to provide every answer. It just seemed undignified, unbecoming. As she progressed in her mastery of spell theory during her conversations with Tom, she liked to fashion herself more and more as coolly intelligent rather than as a blustery know-it-all.
However, she was really 'knowing it all' more and more each day. Tom had devised a study plan for each subject with heavy emphasis in Defense Against the Dark Arts since Lockhart was revealing himself as more and more incompetent (although Hermione would still blush when he called on her in class). After only a little more than six weeks, Hermione was now working her way through third-year Transfiguration spells and learning about Dementors and Werewolves. She found the history of Werewolf discrimination fascinating and began to despise the Ministry of Magic for its classification of lycanthropes as 'half-breeds.' Tom agreed with her and said that one of his goals when he was at school was legal emancipation of downtrodden magical creatures, an ambition that deeply impressed Hermione.
However, the subject that most interested her was the history of Hogwarts from other perspectives. While Hogwarts, a History remained her favorite book, Tom had recommended several biographies of the Founders. He even told her where to find an account written about the building of the castle and its early years, complete with animated drawings of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, each smiling with an arm around the other's waist (bizarrely enough, it was in the Restricted Section, but Lockhart gave her a signed note with barely a batted eyelash). One passage was particularly interesting, and she had copied it out to Tom and asked his opinion.
Salazar Slytherin was purported to discriminate against Muggleborn students, only allowing those with at least two magical grandparents as admits to his house. While the requirement was true, Slytherin did not hold his views for fear of discovery by Muggles, but rather because he excelled in certain brands of magic that required hereditary skills and early development such as Divination, Parseltongue, and Dark Magic. What many of his critics took to be irrational hatred of Muggles actually was merely vanity.
Hermione felt disappointed when she read that paragraph, as she wanted to study Divination as one of her third year electives. She even felt a tinge of disappointment when she read that Dark Magic was hereditary—not because she wanted to practice it—but because it was a form of knowledge she would never quite be able to grasp according to this book.
Tom said that he agreed with Slytherin's views and that those with long histories of magical blood would be stronger than those without. However, Hermione was glad to discover that Tom wasn't a complete hypocrite—he admitted that those with non-magical genealogy could learn other forms of magic just as well. No, Tom seemed to hate Muggles because of his time in the orphanage and Muggleborns because they often could not see Muggles' 'inherently dangerous nature.' Hermione, who had always been a supporter of peace and equality, found herself agreeing when Tom would rail against the Muggle world's capability of destroying Wizarding Kind (although she didn't appreciate his dark appreciation of the Grindelwald's campaign.)
She began to spend more time with Tom's reading list and his opinions on history than her actual studies, although she was, of course, still top in her class. However, Hermione's quieter form of bibliophilia provoked fights with her two best friends to a point until it came to a fore one October evening.
"Hermione, why don't you say anything in class?" Ron asked, mouth full of pudding.
"We're kind of worried about you, Hermione. Has Malfoy done anything to scare you?" Harry asked with a look of deep concern.
Of course Harry would think Malfoy was behind her new classroom behavior. How could she tell them that she was being quiet because she had finally found someone to talk with who impossibly loved knowledge and magic more than her? How could she tell them that she was quiet because she was listening to a boy who knew something about everything?
"No, nothing's wrong," Hermione said, flipping the page of her book distractedly. She looked up at the two boys who were now fidgeting uncomfortably. "There is nothing wrong. I simply think that other students should have a chance to answer questions."
Harry and Ron shared a disbelieving look.
"No one else knows the answers Hermione," Ron said emphatically, "You're just losing points for Gryffindor."
"I'll have you know that Professor Snape actually gave me points last class, Perhaps I just want to encourage you two to open a book instead of relying on me to do your work for you!" Hermione said quite loudly.
The table quieted to hear the fight, but Hermione gathered her books and walked out of the Great Hall, leaving an incredulous Ron and puzzled Harry. She ran up to the seventh floor corridor in front of the tapestry that Tom had mentioned almost two months ago and paced in front of it. She didn't know how she would be able to find the room, but she needed a place to get away from Harry and Ron's complaints over her new attitude. And to think that she thought they would like the change (especially after Ron's original teasing about her academic exuberance).
With a faint whooshing noise, a door materialized in front of Hermione.
Hermione stared at the newly arrived portal and started to grasp blindly into her school bag. She took out a pen (she had found it more convenient to jot questions and notes to Tom while she was walking from class to class) and triumphantly informed Tom that she had discovered his secret.
I guess I'm worthy enough for your room, Tom! I just found it.
She opened the door, but instead of the room of lost treasures that Tom had talked about, there was a room much like the Gryffindor common room. A fire crackled merrily on one end while tapestries and portraits covered the walls—she even saw a four-poster bed near the back.
Isn't it incredible? I found some of the most amazing books and relics in there. Do you know if the Vanishing Cabinet is still there?
She ignored Tom and sighed happily, flopping down onto one of the couches. It was incredible—not the room that Tom had described (which actually sounded like a weird sort of hoarder's paradise), but incredible in that the room knew exactly what she wanted.
It is great, but not the room you talked about. It looks like the Gryffindor common room actually.
And how would you know what the Gryffindor common room looks like?
Hermione smacked her forehead for her slip. This was at least the third time in the past month that Hermione had made some allusion to Gryffindor. She found that it was best to go on the offense; otherwise, Tom would stop whatever track of conversation they were on in sole pursuit of prying.
I am sorry to inform you, Tom, that you don't have a monopoly on knowledge.
She consoled herself with the fact that Tom had no idea what the Gryffindor common room looked like despite acting like he owned Hogwarts. Hermione stretched out on the couch for a well-deserved rest, and decided that Harry and Ron would have to edit their own Charms essays for once.
When Hermione awoke, she looked out of the window (did the room even have a window before?) to see the burgeoning dawn. She felt sore and tired and drained. Sighing upon recollection of her fight with Ron and Harry the previous night, Hermione gathered her books before casting a quick Scourgify on her clothing, banishing the dust and dirt from the previous day away. She had to start taking better care of herself, for she had been so caught up in her exciting quest for knowledge that the basic acts of brushing her hair or eating lunch seemed unnecessary.
There was an hour before breakfast, so Hermione decided to do something that she had been meaning to do for quite some time: figure out who exactly Tom Marvolo Riddle was.
This meant the library.
Hermione crept down a side staircase to the library, sneaking past a snoozing Madam Pince into the archives. She started pulling out the yearbooks for the 1940s, and soon found Tom Riddle in 1944. It was really impossible not to—the whole yearbook seemed to be devoted to him. He was not only Head Boy, but also was featured in numerous pictures with six other boys—mostly Slytherins- and a rotund, jovial looking man named "Horace Slughorn."
Because of his Head Boy status, Riddle got an entire page to himself, which featured a headshot, his impressive N.E.W.T. scores, and several moving photographs of Tom receiving a Special Service to the School award (although it didn't say what for—Hermione would have to ask). A less-wrinkled Professor Dumbledore moved in and out of the last pictures, smiling in a half-hearted manner Hermione had never seen before on the headmaster's face.
Hermione looked at Tom's headshot and thought that she would describe him as an older, more handsome Harry. Not more handsome, more orderly, Hermione corrected. Instead of Harry's messy mop, Riddle's black hair swept itself in an immaculate wave, and Riddle had a look of self-assuredness that Hermione had yet to see on Harry's face off of his broomstick.
Hermione smiled with relief at proving Tom's existence; now she could convince herself that she wasn't daft for writing in a book that wrote back. However, she wondered why she hadn't heard of him before. With those N.E.W.T. scores and a hefty list of accomplishments and awards, it seemed anticlimactic that he would disappear into anonymity. She took out her quill and ink and decided to ask Tom what he wanted to be when he grew older; maybe she could find the real Tom Riddle if she had an idea of what field he studied or job he held.
Tom, I finally found out you actually existed, although I'm still not sure you're not going to corrupt my soul.
Of course I existed, and I think we have established that I am not going to "corrupt your soul." Let me guess, you went to the library archives and found me in the yearbook.
What else do you expect from a Ravenclaw? I'm quite jealous of your N.E.W.T. scores. Why didn't you mention them? Or that you won a Special Services to the School Award?
Some of us are humble about our accomplishments and don't write home every time our Potions Instructor gives us five points for answering a question correctly. So humble, in fact, that we discover secret magical rooms in Hogwarts that no one else knows about and yet still don't feel the need to boast or brag.
Hermione winced. She supposed she had been a bit obnoxious about the hidden room behind the tapestry, but she couldn't help it. For all the jealousy Hermione held for Tom's intimate knowledge of Hogwarts, at least she was living. He was trapped in that book for the rest of eternity while Hermione could actually feel the pages of the books that he so vividly described, could actually see the castle he so dearly loved.
But I suppose I can tell you why I won the Special Service award. I assume you've the book about the Hogwarts Founders I recommended. Do you remember the chapter on the Chamber of Secrets?
Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber? Yes, it was rumoured to have contained a horrible monster, but I thought it was just a legend. All of that occurred one thousand years ago, and you said yourself that Slytherin was painted a scapegoat for all manner of things.
I thought it was a legend as well. The professors said it was a legend…that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me that nice, shiny engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut.
But that's horrible! Why wouldn't they want to know that a monster was running loose around the school?
Professor Dumbledore wanted to protect the student who controlled the monster.
A loud shriek pierced the library. Hermione dropped Tom's book into her bag and rushed out the entrance to see Madam Pince hovering over a still form on the staircase below. Hermione swung around the corner to get a glimpse and saw that Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying, unmoving on the ground. Madam Pince, a woman of normally stoic demeanor, sat gasped a strange, racked sob. Behind Justin, a message was scrawled in red ink.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.
Hermione realized with a sickening jolt that the liquid was not ink, but blood.
She stood there, in the shadows where Madam Pince couldn't see her, biting her hand. This was exactly what Tom said had happened when he was at Hogwarts! She felt paralyzed, petrified and drained of all energy, but she had to help some way. "Madam Pince, what happened?" she said, dropping her bag and rushing down the stairs to crouch over Justin. Madam Pince just sobbed and kept repeating, "Not again, not again."
Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape were quick to arrive, and after a minute of hushed discussion, Professor Dumbledore informed Hermione and Madam Pince that he would take Justin to hospital wing. Students were starting to file down to breakfast, and a crowd began to gather on the landing where Justin lay. Hermione looked up through tears to see Harry and Ron ambling down a few floors up, and after picking up her dropped bag, she ran up to meet them.
"Hermione, why are all those people milling around down there?" Ron asked as he saw her approaching. She shook her head and pushed them onto the third floor corridor that only last year had held Fluffy and the Sorcerer's Stone.
"Hermione? What's the matter?" Harry and Ron asked in unison. Hermione told them about how she found Justin (not why she was in the library), what she knew of the Chamber of Secrets (not who she learned it from), and the history of what happened last time it was opened (not who saved the school last time). In fact, the whole account was a startling exercise in omitting Tom's presence. Harry held his head in his hands like he was trying to forget something, and Ron looked at Harry with a meaningful, "You should tell her," sort of glance.
"Hermione, I think I heard whatever hurt Justin….that night when I had detention with Lockhart. I heard this voice saying things like 'rip', 'tear' and…" Harry gulped, "and kill." Hermione looked at Harry and felt a pang of sadness. Why hadn't Harry told her? She knew that she hadn't spent that much time with her two best friends, but Harry had always told her when his scar hurt or…Hermione realized that Harry wasn't trying to forget something. No, his scar hurt, and he was trying to hide it.
"Harry, when were you going to tell me that your scar was hurting again? That could be very serious—remember, it hurt when you were with Professor Quirrell, and V-Voldemort was possessing him!" Hermione lectured. She honestly couldn't believe that Harry would keep something like that from her, especially after all the trials they had faced together last year. Harry shook his head and mumbled something, and Ron declared that breakfast would do everybody some good. Huffing, Hermione turned around and went unwillingly to the Great Hall with more questions than ever before.
Once Hermione's mind had cleared a bit, she decided to tell Tom that the Chamber had opened once more. He would be the best way of finding out who the murderer was as the catcher of the culprit.
Tom, something really awful just happened.
She bit the end of her quill.
Did you see that awful picture in the yearbook of me with Slughorn and Merrythought? Slughorn never knew just how infatuated he was with me…
The Chamber of Secrets… someone has opened it again. Who was the original person who did it? You have to tell me-one of my friends, he's dead now.
Let me show you.
Hermione blinked at the offer. Tom had offered to "show" her Hogwarts the first time she wrote to him, and she had refused. She couldn't have trusted a book straight away, even if it did have magical powers, and to be honest, she didn't trust Tom just yet. However, for Justin's sake, she had to learn about the Chamber, and more importantly, who opened it.
Okay.
And with a blinding flash of white light, Hermione disappeared into her planner.
AUTHOR NOTE: And so the Chamber opens! Now is where the dialogue will become more interesting in that Hermione will actually see Tom in the next chapter (although, it will be like Harry's experience—one-way interaction) and thus begin to trust him more when she should be trusting him less. Also, because Tom has his foot in the door, it's going to become a bit deeper, a bit darker. He had to play non-threatening homework helper, but that's not really his modus operandi. Hope everyone liked the chapter-review with your thoughts!