Disclaimer in chapter one

A/N: Here you go, next chapter :D Took me a bit, but here we are. I hope you enjoy it. If you feel like it, let me know what you think. I love hearing your thoughts on the fic ^^

Also, I heard that sometimes the update alert on ffnet is a bit glitchy. If you want, you can check out my tumblr. I always post an update alert there too (put dots in the free spaces):

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Thanks to all you reviewers! You're all awesome ^^ RL was a hectic little bitch lately, so I didn't manage to reply to you all, guys. But don't think I wouldn't appreciate your comments. Because I do. I want to give you all a big hug :)

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Chapter Thirty One: No fear of life or death

It was only the third classroom and Hermione was already exhausted. Then again, she was exhausted all the time now. The hard work was getting to her. At least Dobby hadn't lied as he promised that, unlike Malfoy manor, Hogwarts always provided enough food for the servants.

That's something, Hermione told herself as she continued cleaning the room. As she tried to reach under one of the tables, her elbow accidentally brushed against one of the shiny copper cauldrons. Hermione stiffened at the contact. Without her consent, her fingers skimmed over the cauldron's copper rim in a longing gesture.

With force, she ripped herself away and continued to clean. Only her thoughts insisted to swirl around the coppery cauldron. Hermione took in a shaky breath of air. It was like a hazy dream. Had she really sat at one of those workstations, listening to Slughorn's lectures, eager to brew a potion in one of the copper cauldrons?

Wetness pooling in her eyes, Hermione stuffed the trash into a garbage bag and left it by the door to collect it later. Angrily she wiped the tears away and grabbed a rag to give the tables a swipe. Why did she have to do this? A bout of anger hit Hermione and she wished she could make Tom pay. Furiously, she scrubbed at a persistent stain on the table's wood.

"Hermione?"

A voice echoed through the empty potions classroom. Hermione whirled around, heart racing in her chest. A fire had appeared in the fireplace and Hermione's eyes widened as she saw a head floating in the flames. He was a bit hazy and distorted as if she saw him from behind milk glass, but Hermione still recognized him.

"Sirius?"

"The one and only," Sirius Black drawled, grinning smugly.

Hermione sank to her knees in front of the fireplace. Keeping her voice down, she breathed, "I'm so glad to see you."

The smile on Sirius's face widened. "Aren't I the popular one?"

The amusement quickly left his face as his gaze skimmed over Hermione's appearance. He took in her tattered dress and the uncovered tattoo on her arm and an uncharacteristically grim expression touched his handsome features.

"So, it's true, is it?"

Hermione blushed in embarrassment and pressed her left arm against her chest, subconsciously trying to hide her Dark Mark. Without looking at Sirius, she nodded.

"Hermione?" Sirius softly called her.

Only reluctantly did she look up at him. A kind smile played around Sirius' lips as he gingerly asked, "How are you? Did they hurt you?"

Hermione gnawed at her lower lip and shook her head. "No… not yet."

"Okay," Sirius sighed in relief. "That's good."

Hermione peered at his head floating in the flames and swallowed nervously. Then she blurted, "I- I'm sorry."

Sirius' eyes widened at her apology and he stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I- I-" Hermione stuttered, feeling pathetic. "I ruined everything. Your plan… Now that my cover is blown, I'm of no use to the Order anymore."

She knew it was true. Tom had thrown her away without hesitation. Why would Sirius Black be any different? Hermione drew in a breath, trying to fight the tight feeling in her throat.

"Nonsense," came Sirius' firm reply.

Hermione's head shot up and she stared at him in surprise. The Order's leader grinned, showing his white teeth.

"Don't be ridiculous."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "But… didn't you want me to be… you know… a Hogwarts student and a Mudblood. To prove to them that we can do magic." She blinked to get rid of the extra moisture in her eyes. "I failed. They say I cheated in class…"

Sirius just shrugged, mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry. I'll just have to change my plans. No biggie."

Change the plan? Did that mean she hadn't completely blown her chance with the Order? Hope timidly fluttered up in Hermione and, still kneeling in front of the fireplace, Hermione bowed her head.

"What do you need me to do?" she inquired duteously.

As Sirius didn't reply, Hermione carefully chanced a glance at him. The man scanned her, pensive sheen in his grey eyes. She nervously kneaded her hands in her lap. What if Sirius didn't have a use for her anymore? What would she do then?

"Hermione, listen to me," Sirius finally said, all traces of jest having left his deep voice. "You don't need to do anything. Neither for me, nor Lupin, the Order or anyone else. You hear me? It's me. I'm here to help you. Not the other way around. Okay?"

Hermione knitted her brow. "I don't understand…"

Sirius sent her an encouraging smile and explained gingerly, "You're in trouble. That's what I'm here for. That's why I started this whole Order business." He sighed deeply and ran a hand through his shiny black hair. "This whole world is fucked up, Hermione. Really and truly fucked up. I don't know how the hell we could go so wrong. But it's not okay. It just isn't. What's happening to you is a crime."

Hermione stared at him. A crime? "But the Ministry-"

Sirius cut over her, "It doesn't matter what Umbridge says. Or the Minister for Magic himself, for that matter. You gotta understand this. It's really important." He locked eyes with her and chose his next words very carefully, "What this country, what we, do to Muggleborns is a crime."

Hermione blinked in surprise. Tentatively, she examined this new idea. Her life as a Mudblood had never been easy, but this was the law, wasn't it? It was written down, ironclad. As a Mudblood she had no rights. No crime could be committed against her. Hermione's expression twisted into a frown. That made Tom's actions against her …okay? She recoiled from the thought. No! Angrily, Hermione shook her head.

Sirius gazed at her steadily as he continued, "Maybe we can blame Grindelwald for this situation, but I think that's a cheap way out. You've been deeply wronged, Hermione. That's why you don't need to do anything for me. I'm here for you and I offer you my help. You only have to accept it."

"I…"

Hermione didn't really know what to do. Sirius' ideas were outlandish. Yet, they sounded so right. Too right… Hermione swallowed nervously. Sirius still watched her attentively. Could she trust him? She had trusted Tom, but he was a liar. Hermione's hands shook with fear but something desperate, something mad, drove her to reach for the Order's offer.

"I'm lost," she timidly confessed. "I- I need help."

The leader of the Order heard it and a relieved expression touched his features. He looked as he'd just passed some kind of test. "Don't worry. You're not lost. Just temporarily stuck. Nothing more. We'll get you out."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered.

"De nada," replied Sirius, once again smiling boyishly. "It'll be my pleasure."

She returned the grin, already feeling better. "You know, your brother wants to help me too."

"Regulus?" Sirius seemed surprised. "Really? What's his plan?"

Hermione pursed her lips as she pondered Regulus' offer. She wasn't sure how to feel about it, so she confided in Sirius, "He wants to buy me."

"I see," Sirius mused. "He wants to buy you…"

He seemed to mull it over. Hermione watched the Order's leader as he was carried away by his thoughts. After a moment, his grey eyes refocused on her. The smile on his face looked a bit forced now, almost apologetic, as he said,

"My brother is a good person. For having grown up in that house, he's actually a saint. Regulus has a good heart. Really. …I didn't know you two were friends."

"He's nice," Hermione supplied and joked weakly, "for a Slytherin."

The grave expression on Sirius' face was interrupted by a grin. He winked at her. "Still a snake, though."

Hermione laughed softly, but Sirius' smile was washed away by a solemn expression and he said, "I'm sorry for what Regulus did."

Hermione blinked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Sirius sighed then he clarified firmly, "Despite what my brother may think, you can't be bought. You can be rescued, you can break free, you can escape your kidnappers. But you cannot be bought, Hermione."

Hermione stared at him, momentarily struck mute. Regulus' offer had rubbed her the wrong way since he'd voiced it. Hermione looked down at her hands, lying in her lap, and curled them into fists. Sirius was right. Even with Regulus instead of Tom or even Draco, she would still die.

"By the way," Sirius interrupted her thoughts. "Did you hear about Lupin?"

Hermione's attention snapped to him and she nodded gravely. "He was denounced."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I told the idiot it was only a matter of time. But would he listen?" A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. "If I ever catch who blabbed, though, they're gonna be sorry."

"Do you know who it was?"

"No. Not really." Sirius pursed his lips. "But I wouldn't be surprised if my illustrious family had something to do with it. They never liked Lupin. Shocking, I know. Dear Cassiopeia could have… She's got connections into the Department of Bloodlines..."

Sirius rubbed his chin in contemplation and glanced at Hermione. "Anyway, the problem is that with all this shit going down, Dippet freaked. It was actually kind of a hassle to open this firecall. Hogwarts is more or less locked down."

Hermione worried her lip. She hadn't known that. Sirius threw her a smile and soothed, "It's not all bad. Dippet restricting the communication channels is actually good. It helps keeping your story on the low. Bad news is that the castle's disconnected from the Floo network. That's bye-bye to the easy route of getting you out." He scratched his head. Seeing Hermione's alarmed look, he quickly added, "Don't worry. We'll get you out. It might take a few days, but Lupin's gonna get you."

"Lupin?!" Hermione's eyes widened in concern. "Snatchers are searching for him. He can't leave Werewolf territory. What if they catch him?"

"They won't," was Sirius' confident reply. At Hermione's doubtful look he provided, "Don't worry about Lupin. He's really good at what he does."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep." Sirius grinned widely and teased, "You should count yourself lucky that it's Lupin. Old Greyback volunteered as well."

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Tom flopped down in one of the armchairs in the Slytherin common room, feeling frustrated. The room was deserted which suited him just fine. He had wasted an hour talking with his head of house. Just to find out that Slughorn knew nothing about the Founders' objects.

Tom sighed in frustration and let his head roll back against the chair's backrest. Slughorn was useless and Hufflepuff's and Gryffindor's objects remained to be elusive. Thus far, Tom had only managed to secure Ravenclaw's Diadem while Slytherin's Locket was gone forever. His magic spiked in anger. The object created by the most powerful of the Founders was lost to him, destroyed by a dirty Mudblood. Irately, Tom's magic lashed out and a stray book lying on the side table burst into flames. His jaw clenched as his thoughts danced around Hermione. Tom hadn't seen her since the ball a few days ago and frankly had no patience to deal with his ill-behaved Mudblood at the moment.

The door of the common room slit open and Tom's eyes narrowed in annoyance. He watched as Bellatrix and Regulus Black entered. The witch seemed to be in no better mood than Tom himself.

"You're not going to do that!" Bellatrix snarled acridly.

Regulus stubbornly crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You can't stop me, Bella."

"Oh, I can," the witch hissed darkly. "You're not going to buy the Mudblood."

Tom rolled his eyes at their bickering. The pair hadn't yet noticed his presence, so he pulled his wand, intending to send a curse their way.

"Hermione doesn't deserve this," Black replied caustically.

At the name, Tom's interest was instantly piqued. Instead of cursing the pair, he cast a notice-me-not over himself.

"You know what that worthless piece of scum did." Bellatrix glared murderously at her cousin. "You can't bring something like that into the noble House of Black."

Tom stared at the pair, thoughts racing. What were they talking about?!

"It's my money," Black yelled heatedly. "What I do with it is none of your business. And I'm going to help Hermione!"

The anger slid from Bellatrix' face, replaced by a destructive smile. Her voice was soft and gentle as she promised, "If you do this, I will curse you."

Black swallowed nervously, but still didn't back down and stated firmly, "I don't care what you say. I'm gonna talk with Dippet and I'm going to buy Hermione."

It were the last words that made Tom suck in a sharp breath of air. Suddenly, his magic was twitching and twisting inside of him, almost spilling out. Tom's fingers tightened painfully around his wand and his whole body trembled.

"I'll get Hermione away from here," Black continued, oblivious to Tom's lost temper. "She'll be safe. Away from Hogwarts… and away from Riddle."

Tom raised his wand at Black and he knew it was the Killing Curse that teetered at its tip. Something pulled at his thoughts, tilting them into darkness.

"Shut up!" Bellatrix screeched, ripping Tom out of his trance. "She's Riddle's! Stay out of this."

Tom shook his head, angry at his lost control. He couldn't use the Killing Curse in Hogwarts. What was he thinking? He watched as Bellatrix stomped out of the common room while Black disappeared towards the dorms. Tom was left behind in silence and finally his magic spilled from his control. The upholstery of the chair around him turned black with heat, smoking dangerously. Deep scratches appeared in the wood of a nearby table and even in the flagstones of the floor. Tom barely noticed.

Was this Hermione's plan? Running away from him? Eloping with Regulus Black?

Tom sneered. This was as ridiculous as it was disgusting. He hadn't thought Hermione would sink so low. Black was an opportunistic weakling. Did she really think a feeble wizard like Black would ever be able to protect her?

†

Hermione rubbed her blurry eyes as she hastened down a dark corridor. It had to be almost midnight. Some students had used an abandoned classroom for a drinking spree. Hermione dearly wished they'd got a detention for it, because she'd been the one to clean up the mess from the illegal party.

I'm going to get out of here, she chanted her new mantra as she stumbled towards one of the hidden entries to the servants' passageways. A small smile curved her lips. Since her talk with Sirius, Hermione wasn't feeling quite so hopeless anymore.

"Are my eyes deceiving me? Is that really Ms Rookwood?"

Hermione grimaced as she recognized the voice. Reluctantly, she looked up and almost groaned as she spotted Bellatrix Black. Smiling a dangerous smile, the witch sauntered towards Hermione.

"Itty bitty muggle waif," Bellatrix said in a sing-song voice. "Just the Mudblood I've been searching for."

Hermione was not in the mood to deal with Bellatrix' brand of crazy. Almost on its own volition, her mouth opened and snapped, "Leave me alone."

"Ooh," Bellatrix jeered. "Touchy."

Hermione pressed her mouth into a thin line. Bellatrix smirked and wondered in fake confusion, "You know, I always thought little Mudbloods were supposed to bow."

Hermione's hands balled into angry fists as she fought the urge to throw an insult at the witch. In the end, though, she held back. Hermione wanted to get out of this as fast as possible, so she inclined her head in a brief bow. Then she turned away, intending to finally return to the kitchens.

Without warning, an elbow was rammed into her side and a foot kicked the back of her knee. Hermione yelped in pain, lost her balance and tumbled down. Soon, she was lying on the floor with Bellatrix sitting on her stomach, pinning her arms down. Hermione stared at the other girl, heart hammering away in her chest.

"Her-my-own-ee" the witch sang, mad glint in her eyes. "What a beautiful name. Did you come up with it on your own? Or was it Tom?"

Anger managed to drive away her shock and Hermione snapped, "It's my actual name."

She squirmed in Bellatrix grasp, trying to throw her off. It didn't work and Hermione coughed painfully as Bellatrix leaned closer, pressing a knee into Hermione's stomach.

"You're feisty," Bellatrix observed amusedly. "I think I like it."

Sharp smirk splitting her face, the witch pulled her wand. A pang of fear hit Hermione as she saw how the air around the wand's tip flickered with heat. A satisfied glint appeared in Bellatrix' eyes and she swirled her wand playfully through the air.

"Do you know why I'm doing this?" the witch asked contently.

"N- no," Hermione wheezed, glaring hatefully. "You're a sadist and enjoy it?"

"That too." A delightful smile curved Bellatrix' full lips. "But I also have no choice. Don't you see?"

She lowered her wand to Hermione's arm and pressed the still smouldering tip into vulnerable skin. Sharp pain erupted in Hermione's forearm as she was cruelly burned.

"You're too beautiful," Bellatrix told her merrily. "I warned you. Didn't I? You're too bright. You burn us. I warned you."

She removed the wand and Hermione stared at her, her arm stinging horribly. The witch smiled brightly, a sharp contrast to the tight grip she still had on Hermione.

"I gave you fair warning. Don't forget. Tom didn't."

Bellatrix cackled and again pressed the tip of her wand into Hermione's arm, burning skin and flesh underneath. Hermione flinched in pain. A mournful look pulled at Bellatrix' features and she retracted her wand. All traces of twisted mirth wiped away, she asked sadly,

"Did you burn him?"

Hermione gritted her teeth at the sharp pain in her arm. "What're you talking about?"

As a reply, Bellatrix again pressed her wand into Hermione's arm. It hurt and Hermione felt queasy as the smell of burned skin hit her nostrils. Bellatrix just cackled and declared proudly,

"He's really powerful. Tom. He is twisted and warped and so so powerful." She raised her eyebrows at Hermione. "But you don't know him. You don't."

Again the wand's tip bored into Hermione's skin and this time she couldn't help but gasp in pain. Bellatrix was completely undisturbed by Hermione's pain and continued calmly as if they were talking over tea,

"He's still searching. Tom's not fragile. Never that. No. No, you definitely shouldn't have burned him."

Hermione bit her tongue against the building pain in her arm. "Tom's not searching for anything. You know what he really is, don't you? Crazy. Just like you."

Bellatrix blinked down at her and a contemplative look crossed her face. After a moment, she admitted easily, "That may be. But craziness is always a majority vote, isn't it?"

Again, Hermione was burned. Then wavy dark hair fell over her face as Bellatrix leaned down to whisper,

"Can I tell you a secret?"

The witch bent up again and a wild smile distorted her face. Contently, she purred, "I knew. I knew all along. His magic was all over you that time at Malfoy manor when I took the wand from you. And then the first time you came to Hogwarts, it was the same. Tom's magic. And I knew it was you again. The little Mudblood." Bellatrix eyes lit up and she declared happily. "I thought we were playing, Tom and I, and I didn't say anything."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Bellatrix had known?! Still smiling, the witch again burned her, obviously enjoying herself. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as pain flashed through her.

"I like playing with Riddle. We have rules." Bellatrix furrowed her brow at Hermione and accused, "You don't."

The witch shifted her weight a bit to be able to burn the yet untouched skin at Hermione's wrist. The movement granted Hermione a bit more room. Driven by pain and fear, she reacted instinctively and brought up her knee. Bellatrix groaned as she was hit in the stomach. Hermione pushed her away and quickly scrambled to her feet. Angry snarl twisting her face, Bellatrix snapped her wand through the air. Hermione had to duck as a dangerous curse dashed towards her. It missed and violently crashed into the corridor wall. Not waiting for more, Hermione ran away.

Angry footsteps followed her and another dangerous curse detonated with the corridor wall just inches from Hermione's head. Adrenalin cursing through her body, she ripped open the next best door and rushed into the room behind. It was a bathroom. Frantically, Hermione tried to somehow block the door. It was too late, though, and Bellatrix already blasted it open. A frightening smirk curved her lips as she hissed,

"I'm going to enjoy this."

Hermione stumbled away from the witch until her back was pressed into the tiled wall. Panic twisted around her. There was no escape route left and Bellatrix' magic already ripped at her. Hermione flinched as suddenly one of the toilet stall doors was slammed open with a loud bang. She blinked in surprise as the ghost of Neville Longbottom floated from the door. Fury twisting his face, he glared at Bellatrix and growled,

"I don't think so."

Bellatrix had removed her wand from Hermione and now poised it at Neville. Harshly, she scorned, "What can you do about it, dead boy?"

Neville smiled at her menacingly and hissed, "Plenty."

Before Bellatrix could reply, another voice butted in, "And I'll help him."

Now Bellatrix' eyes grew wide and fear touched her features. The Bloody Baron had just floated through the wall. The silvery blood drenching his clothes gave him a savage appearance. An evil smirk hovered around his lips as the Baron cocked an eyebrow at Bellatrix.

"You better run, girl," he advised and already pulled a sharp dagger from his belt.

Now it was Bellatrix that stumbled away, trepidation on her face. The Baron floated closer, raising the dagger threateningly, and Bellatrix turned on her heels. She dashed from the bathroom and down the corridor. Waving his dagger menacingly, the Baron gave chase, cackling insanely. Still pressed into the tiled wall, Hermione stupidly stared at his disappearing form.

"Are you hurt?" Neville's voice inquired softly.

Hermione was ripped from her stupor. Glancing at the ghost, she stuttered, "No… y- yes."

Now that the threat was gone, the pain from her burnt arm hit her full force. Feeling a bit light-headed, Hermione slid down the wall and sat on the bathroom floor. Painfully, she pressed her hurt arm against her chest. A wave of cold washed over her and she looked up. A shaky smile appeared on Hermione's face as she saw Neville floating right in front of her.

"I'm sorry," the ghost said sadly and looked at her arm. "Let me see."

Hermione turned her arm. Neville winced in sympathy as he saw the many burns on her skin.

"Here," he whispered gently. "I'll try something."

He extended a hand and wrapped his pale fingers around her forearm. Hermione flinched at the cold sensation, but quickly sighed in relief as Neville's ghostly hand cooled her burns.

"Thanks."

A lopsided smirk appeared on Neville's face and he joked, "Well, who knew. At last, coldness of death comes in handy."

Hermione chuckled softly. "It really feels better."

Neville threw her a smile. He was just carefully readjusting his grip on her arm as the Bloody Baron floated back into the bathroom, still laughing loudly.

"Chased the girl all the way to the Great Hall," he proclaimed. "If only Minerva hadn't stopped me. Tsk, a shame."

Hermione smiled up at him. "Thank you."

The Baron bowed deeply and exclaimed, "It certainly was my pleasure. The Black girl's shrieks were worth the effort."

He again laughed boomingly and Hermione and Neville had to smile as well. Cautiously, Hermione tried to get up, but hissed in pain as her arm throbbed in protest.

"You should rest for a while, my Lady," the Baron advised her.

Hermione nodded and sagged against the wall. Neville had helped, but her arm still burned sharply. Shakily, she inspected it. The skin had blackened at places, giving way to the flesh underneath. The wounds didn't bleed, but they stung incredibly. Hermione averted her gaze and let her head fall against the wall. Her eyes wandered to Neville who still hovered in the air right beside her.

"Neville?" she asked into the silence.

"Hm?" The ghost blinked at her.

"Would you…" Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "If you could, would you want to know how you died?"

The Hufflepuff furrowed his brow. "Why do you ask?"

Hermione worried her lip nervously. "Because I… I know."

For a moment, the room was drowned in silence. Neville stared at Hermione, eyes wide. They were clouded by fear, but in the end he said firmly,

"Tell me."

"It wasn't Luna's fault," Hermione voiced hesitantly. "It was Tom Riddle. He killed you."

Neville didn't immediately reply. Unseeingly, he stared at Hermione. Then he asked softly, "Was it an accident?"

Hermione breathed in deeply before she had to say, "No."

The ghost nodded numbly. "I'm glad you told me, Hermione. Thank you." Neville floated towards the other side of the room. "I think I want to be alone now."

Hermione smiled at him softly, nodding her understanding. Neville turned around and slid through the wall, leaving Hermione alone with the Baron.

"That was a good thing you just did," the ghost said sombrely.

Hermione peered up at the intimidating ghost. There was an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face.

"Everybody deserves to know," the ghost stated. "especially while stuck in purgatory."

Hermione nodded sadly. The Baron scanned her before he remarked, warm lilt thawing his tone, "It seems you are stuck in your own purgatory, my Lady."

She laughed mirthlessly, "You might say that."

"Unfortunately, for us ghosts there is no escape." The Baron eyed Hermione pensively. "But you… You are not stuck forever. You are alive, are you not?"

"Sometimes it feels like I'm dead."

The ghost shook his head at her and rebuked gingerly, "Your situation might be dire, but you should not abandon hope."

Hermione peered at him and her thoughts wandered to Sirius. A small smile curled her lips. "You're right. I'm getting out of this."

"That's the spirit." The Baron smirked at her.

Hermione hissed in pain as she gingerly moved her injured arm. Maybe she could ask Dobby for a disinfectant later.

"I am going to get out," she repeated, more talking to herself than the Baron. "I just hate leaving the Founders' objects behind. Maybe I can at least find the Cup before I go…"

"Hufflepuff's Cup?" The Baron's deep voice inquired. "Why would you want to find that old trinket?"

Hermione looked up at the ghost. "Tom Riddle tries to find the Founders' objects."

Dryly, the Baron commented, "I suppose that boy has a dastardly scheme spurring his quest?"

"Of course," Hermione sighed tiredly. "But he's still missing Hufflepuff's Cup and Gryffindor's object."

"I see," the Baron said quietly. Then he floated a bit closer to her and whispered, "I never got along with Godric, but you are in luck, my Lady, because Helga Hufflepuff was a very dear friend of mine."

Hermione's head shot up at him. The Baron grinned at her hopeful expression and said, "Helga told me everything about her precious Cup."

"You know where it is?" Hermione blurted.

The Baron nodded, grinning with self-satisfaction. "Indeed, I do."

"Where?"

"You only have to go down to the kitchens." At Hermione's eager nod continued, "On the wall by the big fireplace you can see the crest of Hufflepuff. The Cup is hidden behind that crest. As far as I know, it is protected by a concealment charm, but it is not overly strong. Helga actually wanted her Cup to be found." The Baron laughed loudly. "She always said, 'What's the point of a magical cup when no-one's using it?'"

He glanced down at Hermione, seemingly remembering. "Nevertheless, you still need a wand."

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

Tom didn't confront Hermione until a day after overhearing that conversation between Bellatrix and Black. He wasn't sure why he hesitated. Then again, he also wasn't sure why he even cared. Still, he was not going to let Regulus Black, of all people, steal his property.

It was long after curfew as Tom decided to seek Hermione out. It wasn't that hard to find her. He only had to follow the bond that chained her to him. Eventually, he found her on the fourth floor. Carpet beater in hand, Hermione was busy cleaning a tapestry. Dust was everywhere and the girl coughed as she continued to beat the large tapestry with difficulty.

"Hermione," Tom hissed, voice cold and sharp.

The Mudblood stiffened, before she turned around. Her brow was knitted and she was obviously not pleased to see him. Tom glared at her angrily. He just wanted to snap at her as his gaze was drawn to her arm. As usual, Hermione wore short sleeves and Tom's eyes widened as he stared at her right arm. Hermione's soft skin had brutally been ripped open. Only half-healed, her arm looked like she had been burned with a cigarette over and over. It had left her skin scarred and sore.

The worry mounting up in him made Tom feel tainted. With difficulty, he stopped himself from demanding to know who had done this to her. In exasperation, he admitted that he felt the need to check Hermione over to see if she was okay. He wondered if she had access to medical help. He doubted it.

Instead of voicing his concern, Tom grabbed the Mudblood by the arm and pulled her to the next best room. He avoided touching the injuries on her forearm, but Hermione still flinched painfully as he grasped her. Immediately, guilt overwhelmed Tom. This in return made his anger flare. Ungently, he pushed Hermione into the room and closed the door behind them.

"We need to talk," he told her, voice harsher than intended.

Hermione, though, wasn't intimidated by his brusque treatment of her. Instead she glared at him and snapped belligerently, "What is it now? Do you want to molest me again?"

Tom sneered at her. "I never molested you."

Hermione ripped her arm out of his grasp and took a step away from him. The distrustful look on her face told him exactly what she thought of his last statement. The girl watched him in suspicion and Tom rolled his eyes at her.

"You're making a fool of yourself," he scorned her, annoyed by her confrontational antics.

Tom took a step towards Hermione, deliberately crowding her against a table. He found sadistic joy in the way the belligerent air around her drained away. She even nervously looked around, checking for a way to escape him. Of course there was none and with huge eyes Hermione looked up at him. Tom smirked and smoothly bent down to her. He enjoyed how the Mudblood tried and failed to hide a flinch at his close proximity.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Tom murmured into her ear. "I can use you however the fuck I want."

The threat woven into his silky words was not lost on Hermione. Her whole body stiffened and she didn't reply anything. Tom straightened up again and eyed the girl with a twisted sense of smugness. Hermione stared up at him, obviously unable to reply anything. Tom was well aware that his presence was ill-received, but he didn't care. He enjoyed the influence he had on her. Hermione was not getting away from him, certainly not together with Black.

Eagerly, Tom drank in the trepidation he had painted on her face. Before he could do anything else, though, Hermione took in a deep breath of air, as if steeling herself for something. A blank look slid over her face. Unreadable, it obscured her every emotion.

"And what," Hermione said, her voice distanced. "can this Mudblood do for her precious Master?"

Is she mocking me? Tom's eyes narrowed as he felt his temper peak dangerously. She was playing a dangerous game.

"An apology would be a start," he hissed aggressively.

Hermione arched her eyebrows. "For what?"

Tom gritted his teeth, magic raging inside of him. "For going behind my back. For trying to sabotage my plans." He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him as he whispered menacingly, "You destroyed one of the most important magical artefacts in history, Mudblood."

Tom couldn't believe his ears as Hermione now had the audacity to laugh at him. Dark magic howling furiously, he couldn't help it as his hand wandered to her throat, fingers flexing around her neck.

"I'm sorry," came Hermione's robotic reply.

Once again it was delivered in a completely emotionless voice, lacking all warmth, and meant nothing. Tom's fingers tightened around her neck threateningly. She seemed to be unimpressed and prodded,

"Are you not going to apologize in return?"

"For what should I apologize, Mudblood?" he fumed at her.

Tom watched as a smile curled the corners of Hermione's mouth. It was an empty gesture, fake and inconsequential.

"For killing me."

Tom abruptly released her from his grip as if he had been burned. He even took a step away from her. For a second, he stared at her in disbelief and his heart was racing in his chest. Forcing composure, Tom snapped indignantly,

"What're you talking about? I didn't kill you."

The wry smile still sat on Hermione's face. Her voice was heavy and threatened to carry Tom away as she whispered, "You did. You really did."

He sneered at her even though he could feel something oddly twitch and shudder in his chest.

"You got away, didn't you?" he insisted. "I didn't kill you."

Again, Hermione chuckled mirthlessly. "I got away. How lucky."

"You are lucky," Tom confirmed darkly. "You'd have deserved a much worse punishment than you got. Wouldn't you agree, Penny?"

Her fake name left a bitter taste in his mouth, but Tom ignored it and instead cruelly smirked at the Mudblood. Hermione remained to be unmoved as she heard the name the Malfoys had once forced on her. She didn't even want to deign him with an answer. Anger boiling hot, Tom demanded to know,

"What are you planning with Regulus Black?"

If she was surprised be the accusation, Hermione didn't show it. Her face remained to be eerily unreadable and she shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm not planning anything."

The lie made Tom bristle with anger. His fingers twitched, eager to pull his wand and curse her. Sharply, he accused, "You want him to buy you from Dippet. You want him to save you."

Hermione ignored his harsh scorn and observed clinically, "I'm a Mudblood. I thought we'd just determined that I'm not allowed to want anything."

Tom felt the urge to scream in an explosive mixture of frustration and fury. Maybe he should really curse her. A Cruciatus would surely loosen her tongue. The stupid Mudblood still watched him, almost expectantly. Did she want him to curse her? Why did she continue to provoke him?

Hermione, though, didn't seem to care either way. Ignoring Tom's lost temper, she delicately formed her next words, "What we had… I thought it was something special."

Her brown eyes wandered over Tom contemplatively, wistfully even. A brittle smile graced her lips. It was a mere shadow of the happy smiles she had once thrown at him. Tom stiffened as Hermione took a step closer to him. She raised a hand and slowly skimmed her fingers over his cheek.

"Do you even know how much you meant to me?" Hermione asked, voice soft but for a steely undercurrent.

Tom noted the past tense and it bothered him. He didn't know why, but it did. Her hand left him and sank down to her side. The next word fell from her lips as if she had grown tired of it,

"Everything."

Hermione sighed deeply and regarded him as if he were a big disappointment. He glared at her darkly, but she simply ignored his anger and said softly,

"I was happy. Were you not happy at all?"

Her eyes blinked up at him and there was earnest curiosity in them. Tom's magic swirled around him in agitation. He didn't even try to hide the cruel edge in his voice as he insisted,

"I don't care about your happiness. I never did."

.

Hermione looked at Tom, his eyes two endless pools of blue. She remembered how easily she had gone lost in them. Now they held a strange sheen. She didn't know what it meant and frankly she was too tired to wonder anymore. Unblinkingly, she met his hard gaze.

"No, you don't care," Hermione agreed colourlessly. "What is it you want, then?"

"I know you're living under the delusion that you could antagonise me," Tom replied, sinister tint to his words. "But you can't. I want you to stay away from the Founders' objects and from Black."

Hermione cocked her eyebrows at the sharp command. "And what if I don't?"

A vicious look crossed Tom's face and she wasn't terribly surprised as he pulled his pale wand. Hermione didn't shy away, but merely commented in a level voice,

"I won't just disappear again, you know."

Abruptly Tom took a step towards her. An arm was wrapped around her shoulders and Hermione was pulled against his chest. It was almost a loving gesture, gentle and familiar. But Hermione could feel the tip of his wand cruelly boring into her ribs.

"You will obey me," Tom's voice was uncaring and icy cold. "or, this time, I'll really kill you, Hermione."

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Tom's pleasant scent surrounded her. Even now, it served to calm her. It was ironic.

"I know," she whispered, feeling oddly forlorn.

Tom's arm around her tightened and pulled her body closer against him. It was a cruel travesty of affection. Hermione shuddered in his embrace. Her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, holding on to him. If only she hadn't still felt his wand painfully boring into her side, she might have lied to herself and called this comfortable.

"I won't obey you anymore, Tom," Hermione told him firmly. "It's over. There's nothing left to say."

She waited for Tom to react but he didn't do anything. For a moment they just stood there, Hermione still leaning into Tom. There was no space in between. She could feel the heat of his body seeping into hers. For an outsider it must have looked like a lovers' embrace.

They couldn't have been more wrong.

Finally, Tom took a swift step away from her. His wand had sunk to his side and his starkly blue eyes stared at her. His face was a blank, every emotion hidden away. Hermione just gazed back at him wordlessly. She was prepared for anything, a harsh comment, a slap, a curse. But as Tom just turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone, she was slightly surprised.

Long since he had turned around the next corner, Hermione still stared at the spot he had disappeared from. She didn't know what to feel. She should feel angry – furious at what he had done; what he had destroyed – but there also was sadness wrapping around Hermione, grief and loss. It always hurt to say good-bye. She really had enjoyed Tom's company, craved it even.

But he didn't understand. Didn't want to.

Hermione shook her head. Tom had stolen something from her and now the empty spot hurt. Wasn't it only fair she took something from Tom in return? The Cup wasn't his anyway.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

'The water sings along our keel,

The wind falls to a whispering breath;

I look into your eyes and feel

No fear of life or death;

So near is love, so far away

The losing strife of yesterday.'

- Sophie Jewett (*1861 † 1909)