The Thing About Bees

AN:

Oni: Okay so I think I've caught up... phew. Anyways please enjoy!

Tom: Oni does not own the Harry Potter franchise.

Oni: Aaaaand ONWARDS!

Welcome back all ye scallywags and sing along with me! Oh wait, I got distracted by a purple cape. Welcome back, dear readers. It appears that Rubeus Hagrid had joined Tom Riddle on his adventures as a party member! Tom really has such a knack for making friends with the most interesting people, doesn't he? It must be his natural charisma, the same kind that allowed him to rise through the ranks and become a Dark Lord in another life.

On what is probably a completely unrelated note, today's topic is on bees! BEES! BEES EVERYWHERE!

...Okay, I'm getting a little overexcited about this. But they're just the cutest little things! With their little legs and fuzzy bodies and their tiny wings that are far too small to keep them zipping in the air but they do it anyway because they believe that they can and that's all that matters. The most interesting thing, however, about bees to me isn't their stingers or their ability to fly or make honey. It's their swarming.

You see, if you swat or attack or hurt or kill a bee while amongst other bees, a distress signal is released. When that happens, the other bees will swarm to attack the one doing the offense. Despite the fact that they're attacks are basically suicide at their end and do little to no damage (unless you're allegeric... then I suppose they're stings are quite effective in their goal), all of the bees will still swarm to protect or defend their slighted member with everything that they have.

God forbid the Queen was attacked, eh?

But seriously, you have to admire the dedication bees have to each other. Loyalty to the hive that, in a sense, they are each a part of in mind, body, and soul. And you can't deny that each little bee does their part and works hard to make sure the hive survives. It makes you think about whether or not the badger is the reason why Hufflepuffs don the yellow and black.

And no, I'm not a bee. Why would you even think that? Who told you that? I deny everything! You can't prove it! I'm definitely a human! I have two arms and two legs and two eyes and a nose and a long tail and... oh that's not part of a human, is it? Well it's not like you'd believe me if I told you I wasn't a bee anywho.

I digress though. While bees are adorable and fuzzy and make delicious honey, it doesn't have anything to do with the story whatsoever (unless you are of mind in calling Dumbledore 'Bumblebee', then I guess there is a connection to the tale after all). I have stalled you here long enough, so let us continue onwards and see what's going on with our wonderful protagonist, shall we?

Tom was once again reminded how lucky he was to be a Hogwarts student. Not even a week into classes and apparently the Germans had decided to bomb London. By air. Continuously. The orphan was already shaken just reading about it in the papers that Myrtle got sent by her parents, who had come running to him in tears as the only one in their friend group who would understand the devastation the explosive Muggle weapons caused. Seeing as how Myrtle had curbed her crying habit, seeing her in such a state was nearly heartbreaking as she worried about her parents' safety. They had promised to send a message every day, but both students knew full well that such a vow was unrealistic in a war zone that the city had apparently become.

Instead, Tom charmed another figurine (this one of a little girl with long blond hair and a light blue dress which the boy named Alice) and connected it to Myrtle's White Rabbit. Using a school owl he sent it over to her parents, ordering the bird to be discreet.

Two days later and Tom was knocked to the floor when the sobbing girl ran full force into him in the Great Hall, blubbering her thanks through her tears. A few students around them giggled, but he paid them no heed. He simply picked himself up, hoisted the younger Ravenclaw up, and returned the hug that she immediately initiated once she was standing. The Three Musketeers and Rubeus (who were well aware of the situation and therefore relieved at the outburst) all stood a little ways away, making sure the two of them weren't hexed in their moment of weakness.

After that things generally went back to normal. Rubeus had almost seamlessly joined Tom, Myrtle, and the Musketeers once he was sorted into the house of the Lions, which apparently was a point against the Slytherin for now associating with a half-breed Gryffindor. Not that Tom cared, of course, especially when some of the weaker willed Slytherins backed off insulting him once they got a close look at the sheer size of the first year. Rubeus had become oddly protective of their little friend group, and took any slight against them as a personal insult. During one of their office chats, Professor Dumbledore appeared to be rather happy with this, explaining that he sadly doubted most others would treat Rubeus as kindly as they did and was probably not used to having any friends, hence the protectiveness of the ones he now had to show that he was useful and worthy of keeping around. Since that conversation Tom had made it a point to prove that Rubeus didn't need to prove anything and that he would be his friend no matter what... which only made the protectiveness even worse.

He was still keeping his grades up, though now Runes, Arithmancy, and Care of Magical Creatures were added to his list of classes. Arithmancy, while useful, was rather dull and annoying when it came to the meat of it, something shared by both Minerva and Filius to some extent. Despite this, he still managed to keep himself at the top of the class alongside them (though his impatience at doing such mind-numbing calculations had him ranked lower than his friends).

Runes was far more exciting, as the risk and reward system was surprisingly relevant for something he initially though was written spellcasting. The more complex the rune, the worse the price (mainly manifesting as an explosion or summoning or turning the runemaker into a newt for some reason) if something went wrong. Which made everything all the more fun, even if everyone was afraid of him working on such things in his free time (think of the things you can put spells on that regular charms won't work on, there's even arrays to make spells permanent and hey why is that one considered illegal?). Myrtle had gone so far as to memorize his hissing pattern to enter the Chamber every time an explosion rocked the castle (which wasn't much but still...okay, maybe it's been a little more often than people hoped), dragging him away from his experiments so that he would remember to eat and sleep.

It was nearly universally accepted that Tom Riddle should not be allowed near any magical creatures that are remotely dangerous. This was not because of Tom himself being afraid of any of the creatures. Quite the opposite, really. The Slytherin had nearly burned himself on the fire crab that he was studying because he wanted to see if he could cook marshmallows (the answer is yes, yes you can), and almost got himself mauled teaching a bunch of porlocks to do a jig (which they totally did after a week of training). It didn't help that Rubeus was egging Tom on the more dangerous creatures, discussing the beings as if they're potentially dangerous attributes were simply harmless quirks.

Even worse, the Slytherin had gotten it into his head that he needed a permit to care for creatures on his own (to others' bewilderment, though Myrtle knew full well this was because of Esmeralda), his reason being that he wanted to train his own creatures to do tricks. With some forms filled and fees paid to the Ministry, the boy actually managed to get a permit all the way up to Class XXXXX. Although, unbeknownst to Tom, it was only supposed to be a permit up to Class XX but there had been a mysterious mix-up between Tom's forms and a pureblood bureaucrat that had attempted to bribe his way to getting a permit to owning a Nundu like his ancestor. His file of complaint raised enough questions to launch an inquiry into why he was trying to keep a Nundu and had discovered a myriad of stolen goods in his basement along with a disturbing amount of adult material on pygmy elves. But Tom had no idea of such happenings, and was merely surprised with the full permit. Everyone else was both shocked and horrified of what that permit insinuated.

After all, Tom had the oddest ability to make creatures rather protective of him. The aforementioned fire crab had begun following him around offering to toast marshmallows in exchange to having some s'mores and the porlocks had started to create their own jigs to get a pleased compliment from the boy. While Tom did not find this odd in any way, most others did, and had started rumors that he had somehow cursed them to behave (Fudge) or had apparently seduced them (Hornby... for some reason). One was debunked by Professor Bovino, who demonstrated that there was not a spell on the creatures to influence such behavior, but the other one had become a rather popular explanation. Even his friends, laughing, had agreed to his annoyance (though he knew it was all in fun).

The crowd roared in wild abandon, the ones clad in green and red most of all. Tom weaved around the goal posts, searching for that elusive fluttering golden ball. Waving cheerily from the top of his personal Moontrimmer at Minerva, who had the quaffle under her arm (and her waving back with a roll of her eyes), and Rolanda, who was shouting quidditch-fueled obscenities at him from her place as Keeper, he certainly would have gained the ire of his housemates if it weren't for his skills on the field. Skills that had won Slytherin the Quidditch cup two years in a row.

Maybe that's why his house had virtually left him alone. At some point he'd proven that mudblood or not, he was too bloody valuable to antagonize. Even Malfoy and Lestrange had backed off, and the two of them had recently engaged him in a relatively enjoyable conversation in their dorm room (then again, it had been after they saw Tom wandlessly beat up a seventh year that accused him of stealing his magic to get as powerful as he was London-style).

His team captain shouted at him to search for the Snitch instead of daydreaming about his inventions and figuring out how to better them (which was wrong, Tom was actually thinking about convincing the house elves in the Kitchens to make jelly donuts, but he wasn't going to antagonize the already incensed Beater). Looking around, the mop of wavy dark hair got ruffled in the wind as it shifted to and fro, searching for the ball that almost seemed to enjoy forcing him to do circus-level tricks in order to catch it.

A flash of reflected light coupled with the whirring sound of clockwork wings told Tom that the Snitch was near. Circling around the area to pinpoint where the bloody hummingbird-like ball was, Tom kept an ear out for the commentator's voice for any tidbits of information. From the corner of his eye, the Slytherin Seeker saw the Gryffindor Seeker fly towards him, his hand outstretched as if preparing to catch the Snitch. Which was odd, because Tom couldn't see damn thing in front of him...

...Unless it was behind him.

Turning his head back, he saw that indeed, the Gryffindor Seeker was closing in on the Snitch that appeared to be following Tom. There was no way he would be able to turn his broom fast enough to reach the Snitch in time. The other Seeker would have caught it already. Sighing to himself, Tom clutched the front of the broom handle and planted his feet on the shaft, tucking them under his chest before launching himself backwards off of his broom. His entire body arched in a graceful, practiced moment from years of acrobat training.

Though the view was upside-down, the expression of sheer shock and fury on the other Seeker's face was unmistakable as Tom closed his fist around the escaping Snitch, landing on his broom, which was trained to fly in his fall path. The screeches of complete rage from the scarlet and gold clad (and some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws) was almost drowned out by the cheers of the Serpent house, and both completely overtook the shrill sound of the whistle ending the game, Slytherin leading two-fifty to one hundred eighty. Slughorn himself looked as if he'd... well... like Chirstmas came early, he supposed.

Other than shaking hands with an exhausted Minerva (who rolled her eyes at his death-defying stunt...again), Tom kept his distance from the Gryffindor team, especially Rolanda and the Seeker (what was his name again? Patil?) who appeared to be out for his blood. Luckily all blood superiority was cast aside in the face of a quidditch win, as he was quickly carried to the safety of their Common Room to celebrate their win over their main house rival.

The next day Myrtle cackled as she admitted to snapping shots during his jump with the camera her parents had gotten her for her birthday, promising to give him a copy of the photo once it was treated with the special solution that would make it move. When asked why it was only a copy, the young Ravenclaw got a glint in her eyes as she told him that photos of him were in high demand lately. Asking her why only got him an odd look and a huff and Tom had to drop the subject before the silence got too awkward.

Rubeus and Minerva (despite being on the losing team) congratulated him on the win, though Minerva seemed to be chatting animatedly with Myrtle along with Pomona and a couple of other girls (including Poppy and oddly enough, Rolanda). They wouldn't tell him what they were taking about. Tom had asked Filius, but the half-goblin had just given him a mysterious knowing smile and patted him on the head (standing on the bench in the Great Hall to do so), and Rubeus hadn't a clue either.

The next Quidditch match against Ravenclaw wasn't as fun though. It started out normal enough, but quickly turned to disaster when the Bludgers started acting strange, veering straight towards Tom no matter where they were hit. The crowd began to murmur, and Tom could see out of the corner of his eye that Dumbledore taking his wand out. He did his best to dodge the vicious balls, but even a skilled flyer such as himself could only weave so much before the first impact, a sickening crunch telling him his arm was broken. With only one arm working, it wasn't long before the next Bludger hit him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and sent him flying off of his broom.

Time seemed to slow as he fell, his broom veering to meet him but with a broken arm and a bad angle it only made things worse as his back impacted on the handle, the sudden jarring collision knocking him out as he descended again, the screams of the crowd growing louder...

He awoke in the Hospital Wing, his entire body sore. The sound of sniffling made him turn his head (wincing a little as he did so) to see Myrtle crying in a chair to his right, a floral handkerchief in her hands as she dabbed away at her puffy eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't skip class to visit me." he groaned out, alerting her to his awakened state, choking back a sob as she shook her head.

"You nearly die and all you can think about is if I'm missing classes?" she mumbled, shaking her head, "You really are something else, Tom. A real Mad Hatter."

"You didn't answer the question." Tom replied, smiling as he watched the girl collect herself a little, "And this isn't so bad. Madam Anise is very good at fixing injuries that are usually life-threatening."

"I have a free period right now." Myrtle told him grumpily, wiping away the tears that were still falling down her cheeks, "But you should really take your life a little more seriously, Tom. We were all so worried for you! Me, Minnie, Mona, and Fil nearly hexed Hornby within an inch of her life when we found out she was the one that had cursed the Bludgers."

"Should've known Hornby would try to rig the game in Ravenclaws' favor." Tom muttered, ignoring her comment about him taking his life seriously (he was alive and well now, wasn't he?) and going straight to the most important part of her statement, "Wait. Since when is he 'Fil'?"

"Since we bonded over your unconscious stupid arse." the girl grumbled, and Tom noted that she barely restrained herself from slapping him on the arm (which, on her side, was injured), "Broken arm, broken ribs, punctured lungs, slipped disc... Poppy had to help Madam Anise fix you up before you died from having your lungs drown in blood or you spine collapsing."

Tom shrugged, hiding the wince as the movement sent a wave of pain through his body. True, this was the worst injury he sustained thus far, but years of living in a loveless orphanage had trained him in how to take (and hide) pain. So instead he smiled at the crying girl, patting the hands that clutched his like a lifeline.

"Sounds about right. At least I was in good hands. So don't fret, I'll be back to terrorize you all soon enough."

"Why don't you care that you almost died, Tom?" the young Ravenclaw accused as she shot Tom a withering glare and sniffling, "What if you didn't make it? What would we do if you died because Hornby has a vendetta against you?"

"Keep calm and carry on." Tom replied, remembering the posters he saw during the summer, "And I'm terrified of dying, Myrtle. It's one of my greatest fears aside from accidentally killing the White Rabbit and finding out that my entire life was a dream segment and that one day I'll wake up and be old, bald, and noseless before getting my arse kicked by a kid with a lighting bolt scar."

"That's... highly specific." Myrtle muttered before getting back on topic, "But if you're so scared of dying, then why don't you ever show it?"

"Because any weakness I show can be exploited by others." he explained softly, "Hornby, Fudge, anyone really. If they see a weakness they'll poke at it until I break. Besides, if I died, then I suppose Fil would have to make sure that you got to your classes safely."

This was apparently not the best thing to say, because the tears that had just started to abate had returned with full force as Myrtle sobbed her eyes out. And by sob he meant harder than when she had thanked him for giving her parents the Alice figurine so they could talk to her. He let her (not that he really had any other choice) waiting for her to either finish or for his other friends to come along. The latter happened first, and he was treated to the sight of the righteously angry Musketeers and a sniffling Rubeus. Judging by the tear tracks on their faces, Myrtle had not been the only one crying.

"I'm fine, guys." he tried to placate to the furious crowd of friends, "Though I'm pretty sure Hornby isn't at the moment...is she?"

Moments later proved him right as Madam Anise carted in a howling Olive Hornby covered head to toe in hair. Her nails had all grown to nearly half her height and there appeared to be at least on chipmunk in the jungle that was he overgrown tresses. Each of his friends were unabashed by their crimes, instead wearing triumphant expressions as they watched the floating Ravenclaw receive the news that she would have to wait for the spells to wear off. Tom wondered idly if he had been a bad influence on his friends, especially since they had been rather straight-laced until he had hung around them more. From behind her soaked pigtails the Slytherin boy noted that Myrtle had a wicked grin on her face as Hornby screamed at them.

...Nah, it cant be.

Apparently that one heavy cry was all she needed, because after that incident her weeping habit decreased to almost zero. Instead, she now squared her shoulders as she walked the halls alongside him in between classes after he had been released from the Hospital Wing. Initially this change in demeanor worried Tom, but eventually he noted that in compensation Myrtle had become more clingy (which he tried to convince himself that this was a good thing). By this he meant that she sat nearer to him when they planned out their projects (aka revenge pranks), practically rubbed arms when they walked beside each other in the halls.

Actually, his other friends had adopted a similar form of behavior, as if to keep a closer eye on him. In fact, he was rarely left alone. There was always at least one person accompanying him to class or meals or to his dorm, as if he were some sort of priceless thing. It was overall a very curious experience, though for some reason it made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside knowing that they were probably doing this because they cared.

When Christmas holidays came along, Tom noted that many muggleborn and those who lived in Muggle neighborhoods were staying at the castle, making Hogwarts slightly fuller than usual during the holiday season. Not that he minded much. It meant Myrtle was staying over, as well as the Musketeers, even though they all had family at home. Rubeus had gone home to his father, who was elated to hear that his son had so many friends at school. Still, it was a warm Christmas for Tom Riddle. The war raging outside the castle walls were briefly forgotten (at least, as much as they could be with Myrtle's parents still in London) as they celebrated the winter solstice together.

They had snowball fights with the frost charmed into animate beings, and the simple child's game had turned into somewhat of a Snow War with warring sides and chess piece-like snow beings. In the end, Filius claimed victory over the shivering and laughing opponents that he had conquered. Most of their down-time was spent in the Hufflepuff Common Room (because it was the coziest) sipping hot chocolate that the house elves lovingly made for them. It sparked a search for the Kitchens to thank them and ended up with Tom teaching them the recipe for the best jelly donuts he had ever tasted (courtesy of Mrs. Rosewood). More steaming hot chocolate and warm pastries were passed around as the group laughed and joked and relaxed.

With the exception of Rubeus, this year the presents were delivered in person. This year it was a mixed bag of things, some being more about practicality than anything, like how Filius and Tom had gotten each other wand holsters and Minerva had given him a book on different media for rune carving (he had given her broom-care kit after noting that her old one broke), some were about sentimentality like Myrtle and Tom exchanging copies of their childhood books (he had gotten The Adventures of Pinocchio and she had gotten Alice in Wonderland) and Pomona making a good luck bracelet (of sorts) made of Moly stems. Although he had given her a jar of chizpurfles (crab-like parasites that devour magic and electricity that are a damn bloody nightmare to round up) to feed her venomous tentacula with. Still, at least she seemed overjoyed with the gift.

As it had become a bit of a tradition, Tom had sent Rubeus an Aniphone (as Minnie had started calling it after Myrtle had coined it) that used the figurine of a dark brown boarhound. The Aniphone has been tweaked to shrink to a wearable size so that the bloody things could be portable. Tom had spent a whole day 'updating' the previously made ones with the new rune-based array he had been working on for a good few months. Most of his friends had turned theirs into necklaces, while Tom had placed his own serpent inside of his locket, which had hummed in appreciation. In return he got a whittled flute alongside a letter that was smeared slightly giving his thanks and informing him that the figurine was now named 'Fang'.

After the holidays his friends resumed their guard-like behavior, having not forgiven Hornby for the stunt that had nearly cost Tom his life (to them). Fudge was far too terrified to pull anything with Rubeus lumbering around and just looking in his general direction (the young half-giant didn't have a mean bone in his body, but that didn't stop him from appearing menacing to those who didn't really know him). Hornby and her Slytherin friend (Umbra? Umbridge? The one who always wore that stupid pink cardigan that she thought made her look cute) had attempted a couple of things, but with the added spells on the AniPhones that allowed Tom's friends to communicate with each other the pranks were always deactivated (or 'accidentally' tripped by the perpetrator) before Tom ever got there.

Even Malfoy seemed to be shaken by Tom's long bout in the Hospital Wing. The snow blond wizard had even begun asking him strange questions after the holidays like 'how are you' and 'are you feeling well' and 'why are you holding a venomous snake?'. The last one had prompted an explanation that he had picked it up half frozen near the Forest, nursed it back to health, and named it Pinocchio because he was a compulsive liar.

This sparked an explanation to Tom's ability to converse with those of a serpentine nature. Malfoy did an oddly familiar rendition of Mr. Burke's reaction when the orphan had first read the cover of Salazar's journal all those years ago. Whatever he derived from the conversation, the other Slytherins started behaving strangely around him. First they just avoided him and gave him a calculating look from afar, then they just straight up stalked him (and Myrtle and the Musketeers ended up hexing a few for getting too close which Tom found completely hilarious). Eventually they accosted him with an irate serpent in hand and told him to prove that he could talk to snakes. Deciding to oblige them (what with the wild looks in their eyes, crazy that lot was), Tom ended up befriending Geppetto the asp and teaching him how to slither in tandem in Pinocchio to his rhythmic snapping (because the Common Room was sadly lacking a gramophone).

Whatever it was the Slytherins were looking for, they appeared to be in denial about it. For the rest of the school year either treated him like a plague or a god depending on the time of day, the weather, and the amount of ducks in the Black Lake. Or at least, that's as much as Tom could tell. At least they weren't being outright antagonistic to him anymore (though the worshipping thing was a little weird, he had to admit).

Abraxas wouldn't tell him what was up, but if the chain of events leading up to it was any indication, it had to do with his ability to talk and control snakes. Actually, that was the only part he was positive about, but that still didn't answer why. Unless... no...

Slytherins weren't that thick, were they?

"Hey Abraxas?" Tom began on the night before they departed home, stretching his arms behind his head as he relished in the Hogwarts bed one last time, "You're not dense enough to think I'm the Heir of Slytherin, are you?"

The coughing fit that followed confirmed his fears. It was also evident that Lestrange was only pretending to be asleep by the fact he had joined the sudden bout of hacking.

"But I'm a 'mudblood', as you had first pointed out on the day we met." he continued through the sounds of coughing.

"What's your mother's maiden name?" Abraxas finally asked after he got enough air back into his lungs.

"I don't know." Tom admitted, "But I know that she was from the circus like my grandfather."

"Wizards have circuses too, you know." Lestrange argued, "Maybe she was from one of those."

It was food for thought, certainly, and they left the conversation there so they could get some sleep before the train ride home. The next morning Abraxas gave him directions on how to get a blood test from Gringotts. It cost a pretty Knut but Tom hadn't worried about money since his investments and percentage earnings from his ideas back during his first trip to Diagon Alley allowed him to sit comfortably on the small hill of wealth.

On the train, Filius had informed him that the goblins respected him a good deal for his eye for money and growth (or at least, from what his goblin relatives told him, right next to an interest in the fact that the same boy befriended the only half-goblin at Hogwarts without any ulterior motives). Tom just rolled his eyes (as goblins were notorious in hating wizards so such a statement was laughable), but didn't argue with the wizard who had trounced him in their final Dueling Club meet.

"What's with them?" Minerva asked as she raised her eyebrow at the second year Slytherins trying and failing to be inconspicuous as they passed their compartment.

"They found out I could speak to snakes and now they think I'm the Heir of Slytherin." Tom answered, making the girl stop short.

"You can talk to snakes?!" Pomona shrieked out, only now noticing the two serpents coilin around his wrist under his robe sleeve.

Apparently this was news to his friends. Well.. some of them at least. Myrtle obviously knew because of Esmeralda, and Filius always seemed to know everything that went around the castle. And people assumed the girls were the gossips. Ha. Rubeus hadn't known, but also wasn't very surprised at the fact.

"I swear I told you people that I could..." Tom mumbled as he shrunk a little at Minerva's severe look, "Who did you think Pinocchio and Geppetto were?"

"Not snakes." Minerva deadpanned, "Maybe that fire crab or some of the porlocks."

"So what did you think Esmeralda was, then?" Filius asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The two girls paled and blushed in rapid succession, but stayed silent. Tom leaned over and whispered in his shorter friend's slightly pointed ear.

"When did you find out?"

"When I noticed the way you talked about her as if she was much older than you despite residing in Hogwarts." Filius answered with a mirthful smile, "There's not much that fits the description until I took non-humans into account."

"...Ah."

"Though I am curious." Filius spoke aloud, "What kind of snake is Esmeralda? I've never seen another snake around you other than those two. Why haven't you introduced her to us? You do know we wouldn't have judged you for your ability."

"That's because the part I'm worried about has nothing to do with Esmeralda herself but how to get to her." Tom grumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Minerva asked incredulously, having found her voice again.

"Esmeralda is a Basilisk who lives in a giant underground chamber underneath the school." Tom admitted, beginning to blush in embarrassment, "And the main way to get in and out of it is via a sink in the second floor girl's lavatory."

"It's how we met!" Myrtle added happily now that the can of worms was opened, "The only reason I found out about Esme was because I called him a pervert."

The stares from his peers made him cover his face in his hands, his face matching shades with Rubeus' scarf.

"I didn't build the bloody thing!" the Slytherin squawked, "And I found out about it when Hornby locked me in that one time!"

"So Hornby wasn't lying when she was telling everyone that you were stuck in there..." Pomona muttered at the same time that Filius sputtered:

"There's a Basilisk in a Chamber under the school?! Are you sure you're not the Heir? Because everything you just said points to you being the Heir of Slytherin and a Basilisk as the monster in the Chamber of Secrets makes sense."

Tom and Myrtle (and Rubeus, despite having never met her) opened their mouths to defend Esmeralda at the same time that the door to their compartment slid open to reveal Hornby, Umbridge, and Fudge all smiling at the group of friends nastily.

"Do mine ears deceive me?" Hornby crowed, "Or do I hear the sound of filth crawling around in the mud?"

"You used that one three weeks ago, Hornby." Filius piped up.

"Shut up, you disgusting half-breed!" Umbridge's shrill voice whined, "Let us show you what true magical folk are capable of!"

Most of the inhabitants in the compartment's faces twisted in anger, but was stopped from drawing their wands by a calmer Tom. Instead, the Slytherin leaned back and crossed his arms.

"By all means, try." he told them with a knowing smile, "I don't think you lot could hit a sick flobberworm with the amount of aim you collectively have."

It was like he had hit a rhinoceros with a firecracker. Hornby took out her wand in a violent motion and took a step forward. As soon as her foot crossed the threshold, something large and solid descended upon the trio, knocking them backwards. Quickly Tom got up and shut the door closed and locked it with a smug face.

"Tom..." Pomona started slowly, "Was that what I think it was?"

The sound of screams coming from the other side of the door only made him smile something that bordered on cruel as the buzzing noise of a thousand angry bees attacking the hapless trio.

"Nothing would have happened if they sat still and did nothing." was all he told his friends as he sat down with a smug grin, "But I don't think they would have thought of that."

Because that's the thing about bees. Once you attack one, they all came after you.

AN:

Oni:And that's all for now, folks!

Tom: Please Follow, Favorite, And Review.

Oni: And I'll see you next time, My Pretties!