Good morning! Quick update again, I postponed work yesterday but I'm working today. Still planning on another quick update before the new term starts on Monday, so sometime this weekend. It will be a good one! ;)
I have read your reviews & have not the time to reply now, so a big THANK YOU will have to suffice! And an especially big hug to those who are recommending this story to their friends-thanks so much! Ok, be back later to do those review replies via PM and work on editing the next chapter. Enjoy lovely readers!
May 14, 1977
Herbert Beery flexed his hand and frowned. He could have sworn that the lighting spell he had performed was for fairy lights, yet he was bathed in the glow of a warm yellow spotlight.
"Frederick?" he called. There was only silence in response, and Herbert muttered to himself. "I don't know how any of these students think they can take themselves seriously as dramatists with such lax attention to staging!"
He cancelled the lighting spell with another flick of his wand and strode from the stage. It was such a thrill when the productions ran, and the audience filled the theatre with its thrills and applause. The rest of the time, however, he found it downright dreary. He flexed his hand again before he disapparated home with a crack. He pulled off his cloak and draped it carelessly on the hall table, striding into the kitchen to put on the kettle. An owl was waiting at the window, and a brief smile crossed his face as he opened the window.
"Come in, Rosemary," he greeted the owl, removing the parchment from its leg and offering an owl treat to the patient old girl. He scanned the note, emotions flickering pleasantly across his face as he wrote a brief reply—I'd love to see you anytime, you know that. "Off you go then."
He snapped the window closed, stopping to check on his Puffapod seedling on the window ledge. It was innocuous as herbology specimens go, but it was easy enough to care for. He shook his head as a formless thought, some wisp of a memory flitted through. When that was done, he found the kettle had been shrieking, and from the amount of water left in it, it had been for some time. He frowned slightly—Albus wouldn't like that. He pushed that unpleasantness away and finished making his cup of tea. He entered his living room and stopped with a start—someone was standing by his fireplace.
"Who are you?" he asked sharply. The man turned to look at him, a pleasant expression on his face.
"It's me, Herbert. Albus."
A brief look of confusion passed over Herbert Beery's face before he finally fit the pieces together again.
"Albus!" He embraced the other man warmly, missing the sad expression on the other's face. "So good to see you! What a nice surprise!"
The insistent knock at the door was the only reason Tom and Hermione broke apart. Tom swore openly, his hand closely pressed to Hermione's perfectly shaped breast beneath her prim uniform shirt. He looked at Hermione, whose face was flushed in that way he liked, her mouth open and panting from the intensity of their snogging session. He withdrew his hand quickly, casting a quick Tempus on the wall as he stood up abruptly and retied his tie, then donned his jumper again. A jumper that Hermione was keen to get off you, he thought smugly.
"Half past four. Whatever these idiots have done, it shouldn't take too long. I'll be back shortly, stay here," Tom said, running his hand through his hair to be sure he was well groomed before he flicked the door open with his wand and strode out.
"This had better be important," Hermione heard him bark, the answering tones of Sylvestrus Black echoing down the hall as they moved off.
"It's the common room—someone has gotten in with fireworks, and I can't put them out…"
Hermione leapt up from the couch and rummaged through her bag, silently thanking Fred and George for explaining to her how they had created some of the first products for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Younger Slytherins were quite easy to trick, and hopefully this would give her enough time to find the object that she was certain Tom had used to create the blood bond—that dagger. It had been a risk to let Tom talk her into 'studying' in his quarters this afternoon, but now she was glad she had gambled on the boys not being able to resist their "find".
Her reflection in the mirror in Tom's bedroom startled her briefly. She looked well kissed, her lips swollen and her cheeks still flushed, and with a terrible case of bedhead beside. All from letting Lord Voldemort touch her. She turned away from the mirror deliberately and refocused on her search, letting her wand seek out anything in the room with her blood on it. If he hadn't hidden it here, she was screwed.
"You'll be screwed if he gets back before you've found it," Hermione whispered to herself, quickly finishing her look through his chest, then the armoire. That left only his desk. As she approached it, there was a glow from one of the lower drawers, and Hermione knew she had found it. The false bottom was easily disposed of, but then there were the other protections Tom had cast.
"Wards…of course…" She was not surprised, but they weren't the easiest wards to break. However, a thought occurred to her, and Hermione prodded the first ward with her magic. "Well, Tom, you'll be happy to know the Maleficium is being put to good use," Hermione muttered to herself, closing her eyes and literally feeling her way through the wards. It was completely instinctive, this process of finding a 'hole' big enough to extract a physical object, but Hermione felt it becoming easier and easier as she slowly pushed through them. Finally her fingers closed around the dagger, and she was able to pull it out through the wards. With any luck, she'd be able to put it back the same way.
"Accio Maleficium," Hermione said, the book zipping to her hand from her bag. She flipped to the correct page, then pointed her wand at her hand. If this worked, Tom would think the bond was still in place until he tried to use it. Gripping the vial of Tom's blood tightly, she sliced her hand again with the dagger.
"Please let this work," she murmured before she began to cast the spell.
"Albus, please," Herbert Beery said, gesturing gracefully to the sofa. "Sit down."
It was nearly a week since the incident in Hogsmeade, and still Albus Dumbledore had not pinpointed what it was about the whole situation that troubled him.
"I will have to go, Herbert. There is no question that he must be stopped."
"Yes."
Herbert's tone was final, and his face was a study in reserved concern.
"I regret that it has come to this," Albus said, pinching his forehead.
"Albus, enough guilt. You have done all you could over the past year to convince him. You must let go of the relationship you once had. He clearly abandoned it long ago, except when it suits his purpose to attempt to use it for his own gain."
"I am well aware of that, Herbert," he retorted, a bit more sharply than he intended. He sighed and paced away again, running his fingers through his auburn hair. "I'm sorry. I just cannot determine how to manage the situation here, either, and both are becoming urgent matters."
"Hermione seems happy enough to deal with Tom on her own," he observed. "I suggest you focus on the larger problem to wizarding society, and let the teenagers sort themselves for the time being. You cannot be all things to all people."
Albus Dumbledore was not inclined to be pacified by his friend, however well-intentioned he was. He was aggravated as he said, "I know Tom Riddle has done something to Miss Girard, and it is imperative that I get her back home as quickly as possible!"
"Perhaps you can kill two birds with one stone," Herbert offered reasonably. "She does come from France, and you will likely have to pass through there on your way to…deal with Gellert. Once that is done, surely it will be easy for her to return, provided you have suitable arrangements made. If he is as unworthy of her as you say, he won't pursue her there."
The herbology professor had reclined in his chair, aware that Albus would not relax until he was well prepared to do so. Albus was regretting that he was unable to confide in Herbert as to why getting Hermione home was not the easy task he seemed to think it was. He paced again while Herbert took a sip of his herbal tea. Finally Albus acquiesced to the wisdom of Herbert's advice with a small nod of his head, aware that he would not receive any real relief until one of the two problems were solved.
"You are right. I will do my best to make inquiries on her behalf while I am there. I will keep the appointments I have already set concerning her situation to the best of my ability, too. I suppose Armando would have trouble getting Wiselworth here before Wednesday if I left earlier."
Herbert rose from the chair and clasped Albus' forearm. "There now, doesn't that feel better?"
Albus' expression was mournful but resolute. "This will be challenging, Herbert. I will not allow him to run away again this time."
Herbert gave his friend a hug and a pat on the back. "I know, Albus. Come home safely, I beg you."
"I intend to. And you keep Hermione out of danger, Herbert. Come up with something between you and Horace to keep them both busy. Idle hands are the devil's playground." He clasped his hand over Herbert's for a moment, then let it drop as Herbert's hand fell off his arm.
There was something in Albus' expression that gave Herbert Beery hope. He wished fervently that he was not misreading things, but it would have to wait. Instead, he nodded.
"It will be done."
"Hermione."
She turned and gave Tom her usual quizzical look. "What is it Tom? I have to get out to Greenhouse 5 to help Professor Beery with the Mimbulus mimbletonia."
"Right. I just thought you'd want to know that we have a combined trial in DADA again." He didn't miss the way her eyes narrowed, and she took one step closer to him before she thought the better of it.
"Why?" Her voice was infused with suspicion, and he didn't even bother with his innocent expression.
"Apparently Professor Merrythought has something a bit more challenging planned for us. Slughorn is quite upset about it, and he claims it's beyond NEWT level."
"Well, I'm not afraid of whatever she thinks is challenging."
"Of course you aren't," Tom murmured, running his finger down her cheek. "I'm looking forward to our Diagon Alley trip this weekend, Hermione."
"Of course you are," Hermione. "Don't you have to go pick on some fifth years or something?"
"Now, now, if I didn't know you were going to be covered in Stinksap at the end of the day, I'd insist on a study date this evening. You've been too busy for me of late, and it shows." They both knew that there would be very little talking involved if he got her to his common room.
"You'll see enough of me at the trial tomorrow," Hermione replied. "Run along and tutor your lackeys, then. I have to go."
He allowed her to pull her hand away from his. "As it happens, I have several potion bases to brew for Slughorn. However, I would like to eat dinner with you."
"No," Hermione tossed back over her shoulder, leaving the castle for the greenhouses. Tom frowned. She was getting a bit too comfortable with defying him.
"Good morning!"
"Good morning," Hermione returned, drawing her wand from her sleeve. There was no sign of Tom, so perhaps he had been mistaken about the trial. "Shall we go to the Dueling Chamber then?"
"No, no. Front gates, Miss Girard! You have a portkey to catch," Merrythought said, collecting her hat and tying it firmly under her chin before setting off for the front entrance. Hermione hurried to catch up with the spry professor, asking as they went, "But professor, I thought we were supposed to have duels—"
"Yes, that was the original idea, but yourself and Mr. Riddle have been selected for a different exam. The headmaster will explain further," Professor Merrythought said, nodding to where Tom Riddle stood waiting with Headmaster Dippet at the gates. "Hurry up, there's a dear."
"Miss Girard," the headmaster intoned. "Galatea, shall you explain the circumstances, or shall I?"
"Oh, by all means Armando," Professor Merrythought chirped.
Tom looked bored, Hermione decided, although at first glance he seemed as attentive as ever. I'll bet he knows what it is already, she snorted to herself.
"You have both heard of the wizarding prison Azkaban," the headmaster began, and instantly had Hermione's full attention, as well as Tom's. "As you know, the prison is located in the North Sea, and surrounded by multiple wards. Recently, the Ministry has had difficulty with some of the external wards that are remotely placed. They suspect magical creatures of…interfering with them, for lack of a better term. Today multiple teams of Aurors and other specialists will be combing the outlying islands and islets to attempt to determine what creature may be responsible for the disturbances. I was asked to participate due to my expertise with certain types of creatures, and Professor Merrythought solicited your participation in lieu of a dueling trial, which we agreed would be a waste of your talents."
"Will we be required to enter the water at all, sir?" Tom asked coolly, and Hermione could see he was almost mentally flipping through spells necessary for such an endeavor.
"I certainly hope not. As this is not a typical trial, there won't be any particular end, simply the completion of the task. The island which has been assigned is large, but not so large that Professor Merrythought and myself won't be able to offer assistance should it become necessary. Please carry these amulets in case of emergency. Simply touch them with your wand and say, "Auxilium'."
Tom and Hermione accepted the leather cords and donned them, the small brass medallions gleaming in the early light of day. "I believe it is time, Professor?'
Professor Merrythought seemed distracted, her attention fixed on a broken china plate which was beginning to glow faintly. "There it is—time for us to go."
The four put their hands onto the plate and spun off, spinning down above a rocky island surrounded by storm-tossed seas. Although Hermione managed not to be tossed onto her arse as they landed, it was somewhat disgusting to see Tom walking down gracefully.
"We shall cover the east side of the island. Bearing in mind the types of magical creatures that inhabit these waters, please be prepared to defend yourselves. And for Founders' sake, if you find a red feather cap, summon us at once!"
With that, the headmaster and DADA professor took themselves off, leaving Hermione and Tom to begin combing the shoreline. Tom and Hermione exchanged a glance—Merrows. They definitely did not want to be in the water at any costs—the Merrow were vicious in their own medium, once they were done playing with you, of course. Hermione had pulled her hair back into a ponytail, a decision for which she was profoundly grateful as the wind was whipping wildly all around them.
"Well?" Tom said, gesturing toward the water's edge. "Shall we?"
"You just want me to go first because you know a Merrow wouldn't be interested in you," she said sardonically. A female Merrow would certainly be interested in Tom Riddle, with his smoothly handsome good looks.
"Ah, now, it's more I think you are hardly likely to be swayed by the smooth words of a green haired Merrowman," Tom responded evenly, his wand out. "And you are less interesting to a nymph."
"I think I should be insulted," Hermione said.
An hour passed without anything of note turning up. The sea spray was cold and caused Hermione's hair to drag, bits of sea salt drying into it and frizzing the ends terribly. They had covered perhaps a third of their portion of the shoreline when Tom found a small inlet, quite difficult to get to.
"We can't get in there without magic," Hermione whispered, and Tom turned his head back to her, having taken the lead when she wasn't as adventurous as he'd like. They both knew why casting anything would be a bad idea—this was just the sort of cove that the Merrow and sea nymphs liked, and if they cast anything except spells AT them, they would vanish before they could detect their presence.
"Nonsense. We just have to climb down." He had already tucked his wand into the pocket of his trousers, and turned to start climbing down, then raised his arm for her hand. "Unless you're too scared?"
It was a very steep outcropping, and the climb looked to be difficult. "Are you sure we can make it down safely?" she asked. "I'm not a mountain climber."
"If I was cliff climbing at ten, you can do this," Tom said, then more impatiently, "I'm going. Stay here then."
"Wait, I'm coming!" Hermione said quickly, pushing her wand into her arm holster and scrambling over the edge alongside him.
"Just let me guide you," Tom said, his expression intent as he looked down and studied the rock face. "This way."
Hermione wasn't sure how long it took them to climb down, some of the footholds and handholds being little more than a few centimetres wide. Tom was true to his word, spotting her foot placement by going before her. Her arms were aching by the time they made it to the bottom, finding a little ledge that ran all around the cove until a small bit of beach was revealed.
"Shhhh," Tom warned, which was entirely unnecessary because Hermione heard the crying as well. She crept up next to Tom and they both peeked around the boulder. A Merrowman was crying loudly, a cerulean nymph patting him on the shoulder, saying something in a screeching dialect that Hermione couldn't understand. She was beautiful, but Hermione knew that was all designed to lure the unsuspecting to the water's edge, where she would drag them to the depths and rip them to pieces with her teeth.
"Hold still," Tom warned, then tapped her on the top of her head. Hermione felt the runny eggs feeling of a disillusionment charm, then he murmured, "Stay here and listen."
Tom then stood and spoke, casting spells easily to prevent the Merrowman from returning to the water, and preventing the nymph from approaching him. "Excuse me, but I'm here to investigate problems with the wards. I won't hurt you, but I would like to speak with you, please."
Hermione knew he was speaking in that screeching dialect, the harsh language like a distant echo of his words in her ears. He must have used a translation charm alongside the disillusionment charm.
"How dare you, wizard! Let me go this instant!" the nymph began, but Tom made a show of putting his wand back in his pocket and held up his hands. Hermione's hand tightened on her wand, keeping a close eye on the sea creatures. Ironically, of the three before her, Hermione knew Tom to be the most dangerous, yet she was prepared to protect him over the other two.
"I simply want to talk. After that, you are free to go your way. I wish no harm upon you, nor do any of the wizards who ply these waters. We simply wish the attacks on the wards to cease."
"Liar!" the Merrowman spoke for the first time, his red nose practically glowing with his rage. "One of yours kidnapped my wife, and you do nothing!"
Tom's face remained calm, his diplomatic side in full force. "I assure you, the authorities know nothing of this. If you tell me what happened to your wife, we can see that she is returned to you."
"You are a foolish liar, wizard," the nymph snarled, and Hermione saw that she had gotten a foot into the water.
"Petrificus totalus!" The curse hit hard enough to blast the nymph back from the sea, and Hermione felt Tom's disillusionment spell dissolving, her wand pointing true, the nymph frozen with the snarl on her face.
"Oh ho, protecting your own wife, were you?" The Merrowman cackled, slapping his green scaled hands together. "Nelly, she got you, haha! What a good joke! A mere slip of a thing…but with hair and eyes the color of fine brandy…" an avaricious tone had crept into the green man's tone, and Tom whipped his wand out and pointed it at the creature.
"Don't even think about it," he said, the steel underlying his words enough to break the Merrowman's trance and draw his attention back to the wizard before him. His eyes turned sly and he canted his head to the side. "The Merrow don't like it when what belongs to them is taken, no they do not. You'd best tell those of your kind to return what belongs to us, or more than their wards will be damaged, oh yes…know a secret about that rock, we do, and use it we will if our rights aren't respected…"
"We'll be sure to pass along your message," Tom said coldly.
"You would know, you would know," the Merrow said, rocking with his knee up. "Know what it's like, to possess something so fine—"
That tone had crept in again, and Tom snarled, "Silencio!"
The man was laughing soundlessly again, and Tom turned to Hermione. "We should go tell the Headmaster that they need to find the red cap on Azkaban. Probably some idiot guard who thought a little companionship would help the isolation."
"Agreed," Hermione said, glancing again at the nymph and her pointy teeth. "And them?"
"I promised not to hurt them, and I will keep my word," Tom said, flicking the nymph into the air and then hurling her far out into the sea. Hermione did the same to the Merrow, and Tom took her hand to take them to the top of the cliff with a powerful Ascencio.
"Come on then. We still have to walk to find Merrythought and Dippet."
"I don't suppose some of the damaged wards are the anti-apparition ones?" Hermione asked.
"No. You can't apparate on any rock within thirty miles of Azkaban."
"Ah."
They walked on in silence for another hour. For a 'small' island, it was proving rather large by Hermione's standards. It was also riddled with small inlets and coves that made their passage even more tedious, as some of the stone was unstable and they had to test the ground everywhere before moving forward.
"We could just call for help," Hermione ventured, but Tom simply fixed her with a look.
"I doubt very much our professor would appreciate being called for assistance should we not truly require it. Besides, they may be in the middle of interrogations of their own. If a redcap theft really is responsible for all of this, it's best to have as many corroborating pieces of evidence as possible."
Since she really didn't have any argument for that, Hermione lapsed into silence again. They were nearing another twisting inlet, and Tom saw that it would require a small bit of climbing again.
"Wait. I want to check the route."
More than happy to have a chance to rest for a minute, Hermione nodded. The seas had gotten stormier, if that were possible, and the clouds were quite grim. She wouldn't be surprised if it began to rain. She had waited for a scant five minutes when she noticed it was growing markedly cooler.
"Stay there!" she heard Tom call from around the corner at the same time that she saw her own breath condense in front of her face, a vague sense of unease crystallizing as she realized—
"Tom!" she cried, scrambling onto the rock and pulling herself along the narrow ledge he had used. There was one spell that Tom Riddle never mastered, could never master. She moved as quickly as she could past the climbing part. What greeted her eyes was at once extraordinary and disturbing. Tom Riddle was face to face with a Dementor, but he was talking to it, the spectral creature backing away as Tom stepped forward. The creature's senses must have detected her, however, because its large bobbing head whipped away from Tom and fixed on her, its body following.
"Hermione!"
Tom was furious, and he was forced to use the bond in a way he disliked, to forcibly push her away, the sensation like hot needles throughout his own bloodstream. There was no way he would be able to shift the Dementor when such a pure whole soul was there before it like a fucking banquet!
The words fell from his lips urgently, the thrumming need to send her far back rushing through his bloodstream. He was using enough force to send her back to the other side of the island, and yet she remained! He was beyond incensed when she didn't go anywhere, and nothing happened when he called on the bond! He realized she had broken it, ripping the amulet from his throat and pressing his wand to it.
"Auxilium" fell from his lips at the same moment that Hermione pointed her wand at the advancing Dementor. She calmed herself for a split second to summon her happiest memory, yelling, "Expecto patronum!" as Tom's amulet glowed from its activation.
Tom watched, dumbfounded, as a magnificent corporeal Patronus burst forth, the Dementor barreling away in haste from the spectral otter that cavorted from Hermione's wand, disappearing into the clouds. She slashed her wand to the side, the Patronus evaporating into mist as Tom stared at her, not sure whether he wanted to kill her for breaking the bond or finally fuck her for hours.
"Mr. Riddle! You called for assistance?" Professor Merrythought and Headmaster Dippet appeared, dropping an identical amulet from between their fingers. Twinned portkey, Tom thought to himself, snapping into the present and thinking how to avoid mention of the Dementor.
"I asked Tom to summon you both," Hermione said hastily. "That's a bad storm coming, and we've found something out. It seems someone has kidnapped a redcap."
It took a few minutes to explain what they had found, the professor and headmaster giving them both kudos for their handling of the nymph and finding out what was the likely cause for the disturbances.
"Well, as you say Miss Girard, that is a nasty storm. Best for you three to be off. I will go speak to the Warden at Azkaban and give our report to the Aurors."
Professor Merrythought brought out the broken china plate, the first rain drops falling onto its surface as they were whirled away, back to Hogwarts, and a reckoning that was certain to be unpleasant.