Part XXIII
Tom knocked on the door of Number 12 Grimmauld place with three quick raps against the wood. The door was opened by Kreacher, who was dressed smartly in his embroidered uniform - a black pillowcase tailored to fit the elf respectably while sporting the Black family crest in silver on each side.
"Master's expecting yous, Lord Riddle. Might Kreacher take your cloak?"
"Don't be alarmed," Tom said over his shoulder. "He's a house elf. And he'll put up anything you'd like him to."
Tom shrugged off his outer cloak and passed it to Kreacher with a nod, suppressing his amusement as Jean and David Granger followed him into the house and acquainted themselves with the elf.
Sirius was leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway by the time Tom and Hermione's parents were settled, much to Tom's relief.
"Jean, David, I'd like to introduce you to Sirius Black, Harry's godfather."
Tom hung back while the three exchanged pleasantries, quietly observing their interactions. Neither Granger seemed hesitant around Sirius, but Tom wanted to make sure there was no mistrust amongst them. They trusted him, but if Hermione was going to be able to spend as much time with Harry as Tom knew she would, then her parents needed to be comfortable with her staying here. And they needed to understand why she was given a room of her own instead of being put up in a guest bedroom.
Once the adults had a chance to chat about any and everything the Granger's wondered concerning their daughter's summer, Kreacher was sent to fetch the two unsuspecting teens. If nothing else, the brightness shining in Hermione's eyes before she threw herself into her father's arms was enough to assure Tom that he'd done the right thing by bringing her family to Grimmauld.
Plus, they were pleased that he was willing to help her choose a pet, even though they wouldn't meet it until she visited for the holidays. One less thing for him to worry about.
Despite warning her that he'd return after seeing her parents home, Hermione still seemed surprised when Tom strolled into Grimmauld Place at half-one to take her to Diagon Alley.
"You wanted to get a pet this year," he said offhandedly, straightening his casual day robes needlessly. "I've got the day off and I've already spoken to your parents about the matter. If you wait much longer all the overly-eager first years will clean out the Menagerie."
The lunch crowd had dispersed by the time they reached the Magical Menagerie, making sidewalk traffic lean and their shop of choice empty save for a single first year boy and his parents near the reptile displays. Unsurprisingly, Hermione immediately ventured towards the kneazles and cats. Tom spotted a familiar coat of orange fur watching her from the windowsill and tried not to smile.
He'd gone through great lengths to track down this particular half-kneazle. Abraxas and Avery had been listening out for legally and illegally, bred half-kneazles for years before Tom finally got a report back about a small, squishy-faced orange kitten. Naturally, Crookshanks had been a runt, and the breeder had been glad to sell him off for cheap. Tom had kept the kitten with him constantly for his first year of life, until he was strong and clever enough to be temporarily adopted by an elderly muggle heiress for a short time. Crookshanks had learned about his mistress, who hadn't even received her Hogwarts letter at the time, and Tom had promised the half-kneazle that he'd return home sooner than later. That promise did little to soothe his sour temper when he'd been brought to the Menagerie by a disguised Flynn with explicit orders not to sell this particular animal to anyone he didn't go to of his own volition.
Crookshanks' tail flicked as he gave Tom an appraising stare. Tom didn't need legilimency to know the little beast was thinking about the situation, and smiled when his attention shifted back to the small witch between them. An epiphany passed over the half-cat's expression as Hermione watched the kneazles. She'd been focusing on a kitten with a Cheshire fur pattern when her soon-to-be-familiar decided he'd had enough of being ignored and quietly padded over to his witch.
Hermione jumped when he brushed his head against her leg, then the rest of his side as he started a slow figure eight between her feet.
"Well hello there," she said. "And who might you be?"
The shopkeep noticed them as he returned from the back of the store, took one look at Crookshanks, and clicked his tongue. "Careful, luv," he called. "Tha' one's a right menace 'e is. 'Orribly ill-tempered for an 'alf kneazle too."
Hermione gave the man a slight frown before glancing back down at the cat, who had stopped his circuit around her ankles to stare up at her. Her lips twitched slightly at his expression and she tilted her head at him in return. "Well, what do you want then?"
To the surprise of everyone except Tom, the half kneazle took a few gentle steps back before he leapt into her arms.
The shopkeep's surprise was obvious. "Looks like 'e fancies you, luv. Your da first peirson ave seen 'im be even remo'ely decent tae. 'E's wicked smart, dinnae mistake ma meanin', but a wee terror a times."
Hermione grinned as the dour half kneazle stuck his head under her chin and started to purr.
"I like him," she said, ignoring Tom's quiet chuckle. "How much, sir?"
A salt-and-pepper brow twitched upwards. "Fer you tae willin'ly get da wee beastie off me 'ands, dar'lin? Notta knut. A'll e'en throw in a discount on da rest of yer things if you'll really 'ave 'im."
Hermione's expression brightened. "Does he have a name already?"
"Aye, love. Cr'ookshanks, accordin' to da folks who left 'im in my care."
She lifted the orange cat under his arms so they were eye level. "I like you very much, Crookshanks."
Crookshanks' purring grew louder as he tried in vain to burrow himself under her chin again. The shopkeep simply shook his head in amazement and watched the pair walk off towards the cat and kneazle care supplies nearby. Tom tried not to snort as Crookshanks immediately clawed at a white-bird stuffed toy. He already had his old one waiting for him at Proserpine Park.
Feeling sorry for the man, Tom spoke up. "She's got something of a talent for bringing the best out of underwhelming creatures. Could make even the coldest of hearts thaw."
The man chuckled to himself. "'As she? S'a fair trait on a wee lass, but da lads'll start dr'awin' their wands o'er 'er e'entually. A've seen gir'ls like 'er nearly start wars in cour'tyards."
Tom snorted, a familiar memory coming to mind. "As have I."
"Well," the shopkeep continued, "if she can teach da beastie tae love, a'd bet good coin on 'im stayin' with 'er for all time."
"Aye," Tom agreed, watching Hermione pick out toys for the ginger beastie in question. "I doubt he plans to leave her side."
Once Hermione had finished picking out a bed, several toys, treats, and food for Crookshanks, Tom gave the shopkeep Sirius' address for an owl to deliver to Grimmauld later that day. And once they had Crookshanks collared and in a cat carrier to be picked up from the Menagerie after they ran a few more errands, Tom led Hermione back out into the street.
"Come on, you," he said. "I need to get a new owl and I have a few packages waiting for me."
Hermione fell into step beside him as they walked towards the Owl Emporium. "What happened to the one you wrote me with this year?"
Tom had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Perceptive thing. "Ares?" he clarified. "Seeing as he's my main owl and you've decided on a cat, it would be dreadfully inconvenient if you needed me for something urgent and difficult to plan through the diary. Thus, I'm purchasing another that will likely spend a fair amount of time at Hogwarts."
"I can't have two familiars," she said dryly.
He glanced at her with a raised brow and the fainted curl to his lips. "You won't. Not officially anyway. And even if you did, it's convenient that your sponsor is head of the board, and thus has the ability to make exceptions to rules at his leisure."
Hermione sighed, but chose not to fight him on that particular battle. Instead she 'helped him' pick out the white and ivory barn owl he'd recognized a few weeks prior. Tom was surprised by how reassuring simple events —like meeting his second owl for the first time— were to him. He'd seen and met the pale owl, an ironically stark contrast to Ares, on a few occasions during his school years, but something about holding her as an adult made the distant past seem closer than it was.
"What are you going to name her?" Hermione asked him, her fingers gently running over the feathers on the owl's back.
Tom's lips twitched. "Nyx of course," he said. "What else would I name her?"
He busied himself picking out a cage for Nyx the Owl while Nyx the Witch set her piercing stare on his side, smirking all the while. How would she react, he wondered, when Ares' affection for the small barn owl became apparent? He knew she wouldn't put the pieces together until much later, but maybe Tom would have the pleasure of viewing her suspicion this time around, if there was any to be viewed of course.
As they left the Menagerie later that afternoon, heading towards one of the pet-safe Ministry entrances so they could Floo back to Grimmauld Place, Tom remembered one of the subjects he'd been meaning to bring up with her.
"You remember the letter I sent you last term, don't you?" he asked. "The one where I gave you the full details of your sponsorship? After dinner at Proserpine Park?"
She nodded, though her eyes were on the cat carrier she held. Crookshanks was playing with her fingers through the slats and holes while they stood in the short Floo queue.
"And you remember the bit about your allowances?" he prodded, unsurprised when she tensed beside him.
"I don't need them," she said.
"And I'm not budging on the issue," he countered, trying to keep his voice gentle. "Fighting me over something as trivial as galleons will only make me throw more pursefuls at your feet until you're no longer bothered by it. Spend it on yourself and your friends, for all I care, but don't try to out-sneak me, not when it comes to money."
She finally glanced up, her brows knit and lips pulled into a frown.
"Try," he said. "I know it's…difficult to adjust to, especially for someone as fiercely independent as you can be, but I need you to at least make an effort."
She sighed and shrugged. "I'll try then, I suppose."
"That's all I ask."
When it was finally their turn to Floo, Tom sent Hermione to Grimmauld first, told her he'd be along shortly, and went to Proserpine Park to introduce his owls to one another.
To his amusement, Ares' initial reaction to Nyx's easygoing, inquisitive nature was detached curiosity.
"Oh don't be like that," Tom said as Nyx quietly cooed at her new roommate and gently nipped one of his wings. "She just wants to be your friend."
He changed into more casual attire and downed two glasses of wine before heading to Number 12, just to shake off the mood the owls had put him in once he'd gotten Nyx settled in. It was one thing to talk to an owl. It was another burden entirely when he wanted to imprint the words on his fifth-year-self's brain.
Grimmauld Place was quiet when he stepped through the Floo in the main drawing room. Hermione was curled up on one of the sofas with a book, but she was the only life he saw or heard.
"Harry and Sirius are having a kip in the Hollow," she explained. "I think they fell asleep while Harry was trying to finish one of our history assignments."
Tom settled comfortably into the sofa across from hers. "Sirius has already been filled in on the more delicate matters concerning the upcoming school year, so I imagine he'll extend this information to Harry once he's aware that I've warned you."
Hermione used the bookmark resting in her lap to mark her page, set her book on the sofa, and gave him her full attention. "I'm listening."
"You remember the details of Sirius' trial…" he began, waiting for her nod of confirmation. "And you're aware that Peter Pettigrew has been named as, at the very least, an accomplice to the murder of the Potters?"
"Have they found him?" she asked, hope in her voice.
Tom shook his head. "I wish I could say they had. Unfortunately, the DMLE haven't the faintest idea where to even start looking for him."
Of course, Tom knew exactly where the little rat prick was hiding, though he couldn't interfere for the sake of history. He could only have faith in Crookshanks and his younger self's ability to keep Hermione safe.
"Even so, most of the Wizengamot agrees that Harry and Sirius are likely in some level of danger until Pettigrew is captured. Which means everyone associated with them is potentially in danger…which means Hogwarts needs…additional security this year," he continued. "The Wizengamot and the Board decided that Dementors would be stationed at Hogwarts this term, until Pettigrew is caught."
Hermione paled slightly. "That sounds far more dangerous than Pettigrew."
Tom's smile was bitter. "Which is why I want you to continue practicing your Patronus when you return to school," he said. "If you can learn to cast it wandlessly, that would be even better, but it's much more of a challenge to cast a wandless patronus than it is to, say, cast a wandless Leviosa. Be on your guard and be careful."
Crookshanks chose that moment to slink into the room, brushing against Tom's trousers as he did a loop around the coffee table and jumped into Hermione's lap. Tom relaxed slightly upon seeing him.
"And keep Crooks nearby when you can," he added. "He's a clever boy. He'll likely sense danger long before you do."
The clever boy in question noticeably preened at the compliment and all but melted against Hermione's stomach when she started to gently massage his ears. "Gladly," she said.
Surprising Hermione, and only Hermione, Crookshanks leapt from her lap suddenly, and in one smooth bound, crossed the coffee table. Tom felt a brow quirk as Crookshanks pressed himself against his stomach and continued to purr.
I missed you too, he thought, scratching the half-kneazle behind his ears. Now help me keep her safe.
His name is Crookshanks, she wrote. He's sweet, but very choosy about who he interacts with. Which is fine by me, to be honest. I rather like keeping him to myself.
Tom toyed with his quill for a moment before responding. Smart cat. Most people aren't worth the trouble.
He could almost feel her eyes rolling through the pages as he sat up from his four poster and started switching out the books in his school bag. Once his Astronomy supplies were neatly packed, and the rest of his things tucked away in his trunk, he peeked at his diary again.
He seems to like older you a fair bit. I hope meeting you doesn't confuse him too badly.
He's a half-kneazle, you said? he asked. He should be smart enough to at least realize that we're both the same person and different.
I hope so, she said. Anyway, aren't I keeping you from Astronomy? I'll still be awake when you get back.
He picked up his self-inking quill, his diary, and shouldered his bag, mindful of his handwriting as he left the dorm. I'm heading that way now, Dove, don't fret. You go amuse yourself in your little hollow and I'll pretend I'm not weeks ahead in this class.
Once he read her assurances that they'd talk more after class, he flipped to the back page of his diary and checked the date on her side - not for the first time that day.
21 August 2013.
He sighed as he entered the common room, shoving the diary in his robe pocket. Abraxas and Flynn were waiting for him and hopped up from their seats to fall into step beside him as he passed.
"Something the matter, Tom?" Abraxas asked quietly as they left the common room and started their trek towards the Astronomy tower.
"Bored," Tom answered dryly. "It's a pandemic, I'm told."
Feeling braver than Abraxas, Flynn cleared his throat and quietly asked, "Does Wendy return soon?"
Tom nodded, finding only a small measure of relief in the fact. "In just under a week now," he answered. He had a few plans he needed to sort out before her return, but that didn't prevent him from being annoyed by the wait.
Six days. That's when his clever little Dove would return.
Tom resisted the urge to sigh again as they continued towards the Astronomy tower.
Happy Tuesday!