Sally didn't understand why her whole body ached and her head pounded. Did her housemates lie to her? Could you actually get drunk on Butterbeer?
Walking to the Great Hall, she swallowed hard when she happened to glance at the Slytherin table. Sally quickly sat with her own House, for some reason not wanting the Slytherins to notice her.
Managing to avoid conversing with a single Slytherin all week, Sally realized that her 'friends' only talked to her when necessary – when they needed something from her.
Sally was currently in the Library doing research for one of her House mates.
"Little Sparrow." Hermione sung. "What are you doing in the Library all alone?"
Sheer terror overtook Sally and she started trembling.
"Little Sparrow."
Gathering up her things, Sally fled from the Library and that voice.
Watching the Hufflepuff flee, Hermione smirked. Her theory had worked, even with Obliviate, Sally's fears still remained. Glad I put an Occlumency barrier around her mins. Can't have Dumbledore finding out.
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"How is our Sparrow?" Radolphus asked.
"She's terrified." Hermione giggled. "And she has no idea why."
Malfoy smirked. "I head from one of her roommates that she has tremors in her hands. Bint thinks its stress related."
"You mean Brit." Mulciber sighed. He wished Abraxas showed some of the class their parents had instilled upon them.
"It is stress related." Tom smirked.
"She was implying school stress." Dolohov sighed. "Not bodily stress."
"There isn't a difference physiologically." Hermione shrugged, sitting on Tom's lap as she took a bite of the sandwich the elves made her.
Tom wrapped his arms around her waist. "Can I have a bite?"
"Get the elves to make you your own." Hermione scowled.
Dolohov sighed and exchanged a look with Radolphus. Both boys wished their Lord and Queen would fuck already (neither boy thought they would be sweet). The sexual tension was stifling.
"But the elves don't like me as much as they like you." Tom pouted. "Please?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. He didn't bring his conquests to these meetings, must they put their relationship on display?
"Fine." Hermione sighed, letting Tom take a bite.
"Thank you." The young Dark Lord kissed her cheek.
Avery and Rosier all busied themselves with reading, both secretly glad that they weren't dating their Dark Queen and wishing they were.
Mulciber, however, had no inclination of dating her. Excluding Tom's vengeful streak, Hermione was just terrifying.
"You are all getting Marked." Tom ordered.
Hermione snorted. "I'm not."
"I didn't mean you." Tom sighed. "You're not one of my followers."
"Marked with what?" Dolohov asked, eyeing his Lord warily.
"Mia." Tom smiled softly at her. "Would you show them your sketch?"
Unrolling a piece of parchment, Hermione handed it to Antonin. On the parchment was a humanoid skull with a viper slithering out of its open mouth.
"What does it mean?" Mulciber asked.
"The snake, while it's not eating its tail, is like the Ouroboros in that it's standing for infinity and wholeness." Hermione leaned into Tom from where they were sitting on the couch. "And the skull signifies death. Our power over death."
Malfoy frowned. "It's aesthetically pleasing, but creepy."
"Abraxas, we're not an antebellum society; we're a Dark Arts society." Dolohov sighed, sometimes Abraxas confused him greatly.
"My question is: why are we being Marked at all?" Cantankerus asked.
"Tom needs a way to let you know that you are needed in a certain place." Hermione sighed in exasperation.
That's certainly a nice way to say summoned. Dolohov thought.
Avery shifted in his seat. "Where are we being Marked?"
"Left forearm." Hermione smirked. "Best wear long sleeves."
Radolphus stood up and presented his bear arm to Tom. "Alright, Voldemort, best get this over with."
"It's going to hurt like a bitch." Hermione grinned.
"Wouldn't expect anything less from you, my Queen." Lestrange chuckled, steeling himself from the pain about to come with a bit of humor.
Placing his wand on the boy's arm, Tom started muttering quietly to himself. He didn't want any of his followers to learn this particular spell. Hermione knew, though; she had helped him craft it and she could cast it if she so chose. She did not.
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"Damn, that hurt." Rosier winced, he was referring to getting Marked.
"Well," Dolohov chuckled. "Mia did help create the spell."
Mulciber quickly looked around for Tom, Voldemort didn't like them calling Hermione 'Mia'.
Malfoy scowled. "Still, it didn't have to hurt that much."
"I think Voldemort made yours hurt worse." Avery sniggered.
"Yeah, you shouldn't have made fun of our Queen's work." Lestrange grinned. While Abraxas hadn't made fun of it, per se, but he had still had critiqued it and Tom was very intolerant of those who he thought had made fun of his witch.
Mulciber slapped Abraxas on the back. "Sometimes you're an idiot."
"Yeah, well." Malfoy's scowl deepened. "Fuck you."
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A/N: A little interlude.