A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you are loving the story and the ongoing tensions between Hermione and Tom. Huge thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can follow me on tumble (nauticalparamour).
Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-two and be on the lookout for chapter forty-three soon!
In an unusual move, Tom had decided to call a formal meeting of the Knights of Walpurgis at his townhouse. They had much to discuss and this was far too delicate an issue to discuss out in the public where anyone could overhear them. He didn't usually worry about the other patrons at Bottle & Glass, but he needed to be sure.
Preparing for the evening had Tom wishing Hermione was still by his side for the thousandth time. She was not some classic hostess like Aurelia Malfoy (though, truthfully, she outsourced most party set up to the staff), but she would think of every little detail that they needed to check up on to ensure a smooth night. She would know that the evening was important for him and want it to go perfectly.
Tom was more than capable of setting up drinks for nine wizards, though, and so he did it himself. Still, he would have liked Hermione's support.
His little time traveler.
He had to admit, when he entered her mind to view her thoughts, Tom had not expected to see evidence of the future strewn in her memories. The initial gnawing in his gut wanted him to believe that it couldn't possibly be true, but he was a very accomplished legilimens and he knew that the memories were genuine. Then, he felt relief. A part of him had always worried that Dumbledore had crafted Hermione to be his perfect equal, so that she would be too good to pass up and then his love for her would be his downfall.
To know that she feared him, hated him really, in her memories, but without them she had been so devoted to him sent a thrill down his spine. It assured him that they were meant to be together and if she could only just accept her true nature, he knew Hermione would see that as well.
It didn't take long for his Knights to begin to trickle in through the floo in the main entry and he brought them to the dining room. He offered them each a generous pour of firewhiskey and that was the extent of his hosting. He didn't care if they expected any more of him.
Abraxas was, predictably, the last person to arrive. The blond had been avoiding Tom rightly since his failed election, unable to take the responsibility for his terrible campaigning and ultimately Tom's embarrassment in front of the whole Wizengamot. But, when he walked through the floo, he wore a giant smile, as though nothing was wrong.
Tom walked him towards the dining room, past the parlor, which he'd already started to box up. "What's the packing for, Tom?" he asked, once they joined the others. "You aren't back to the plan of moving to Albania, are you? Is that why you asked us all here?"
He laughed at the suggestion, but shook his head. "Oh, I am sure you would like it if I ran away to Albania with my tail between my legs, Abraxas," he said, tutting at the blond. "But don't you worry. I am not going anywhere."
Maybe that had been Abraxas's plan all along. Humiliate him so thoroughly that he left England and never came back, creating space for someone else to take over the top spot in their little group. Really, it was quite a plan, though he truly doubted that Abraxas could have come up with something so devious.
"Where are you going, Tom?" Edmond asked, pointedly.
"Hermione has given me the wonderful gift of reclaiming my family's estate. It's a more suitable family home," he said, smoothly. He had been initially furious to learn that she had done that behind his back, hating any reminder of his muggle family, but then he saw it for what it really was. Something that was truly their own and rightfully his. "I don't know why I didn't listen to her suggestion initially," he added, staring down Abraxas, practically begging him to argue.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Alfie practically crumble in relief, obviously pleased that things were apparently better. "So, you've smoothed things over with her?" he asked, hopeful.
Tom smiled. "Yes, we had a bit of a misunderstanding," he said. "But I am certain that soon it will be as if nothing ever happened."
"Good," Antonin said, surprising everyone at the table. "I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Hermione."
"Agreed," Evan said, jovially. "You must learn to keep your wife happy, Tom. We don't need any more of this awkward empty space when she isn't here."
He chuckled. "Yes, I will admit that I'd been neglecting her and her counsel," he explained to the group. "She had a lot of wisdom that she tried to share with me and I blindly turned away from her. Obviously, I put my trust in the wrong expert. I think if I had listened to Hermione, I would likely be Minister now."
Abraxas blustered and argued, obviously not liking to be called out. "There is no way that she could have helped you get elected," he said. "It's clear that Dumbledore's influence is far too strong in the Wizengamot. I don't see how she could have helped in any way. I delivered you every member that I could."
"I am sure that you did," Tom said, patronizingly. "And that's why I've decided that we will be going in a new direction."
Murmurs began reverberating down the table. Clearly, Abraxas thought he knew what that direction was going to be, because he was nodding his head. "An excellent idea," he said.
Tom was even more disgusted with the spineless way that Malfoy tried to suck up to him. "You haven't even heard what the idea is yet, Malfoy," he said with a sneer.
"I merely meant pivoting your plans," he said, swallowing with nervousness.
"Well, what is the plan then?" Avery asked, obviously intrigued.
He took a deep breath, knowing that his plans were going to be controversial. "I will call for another election," he said. "However, this time, we will take an approach that is far less hostile to muggleborns. We cannot simply will them away by not permitting them entry to our world, not educating them, or killing them. They will always exist."
Predictably, there was discussion and some of the Knights were less receptive than others. He knew that Malfoy would buck, but Orion also looked a bit green at the thought of being open to muggleborns.
"You have got to be kidding me!" Abraxas said, furious. His normally pale skin was flushed red with anger. "This goes against everything we've been planning for!"
"I agree with Abraxas," Orion said, diplomatically. "Are we sure this is wise?"
Tom crossed his arms over his chest, firm in his decision. "Yes, I am sure that it's wise. If we set the terms on how they enter the wizarding world, we will still be in control of the situation," he said, hoping to sway the other's to his thought process. "When we have the power, we will be able to roll back some of the restrictive laws that prevent us from practicing magic the way that we want to. And the muggleborns will just have to accept it. Hopefully, some of them will even see the merits."
"Don't you all see?" Abraxas said, looking around the room wildly. "He's a mudblood lover now so he's changed his mind. That witch has him under her spell."
"And what a spell to be under!" Antonin said, making the others laugh. "I wouldn't mind for a second."
"Yes, Hermione has changed my thinking on the matter," he said, unwilling to back down. "She was raised in the muggle world, same as I, and we both have embraced the old ways. We both have more magical power than everyone else in this room."
Orion shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "But that's because you're a descendant of Salazar Slytherin," he said, trying to make sense of it. "Perhaps Hermione has similar magical ancestry."
"Sure, she might be the sixth great-granddaughter of some disowned squib," Tom said, rolling his eyes. "It doesn't really change anything. She is muggleborn and she is a powerful witch. There will be others like her that need cultivation."
"And for every Hermione there will be twenty mediocre muggleborns," Evan said, gently.
Tom agreed. "Of course, most muggleborns are not exceptional," he conceded. "But, I am sure we can still find a place in our society for them, if they agree with our way of living. There will always be peons. It's no fun if you don't have anyone to rule over."
"If the goal is just to get power, why not take it by force?" Edmond asked, his fingers toying with the ends of his auburn mustache. "Overthrow the Ministry and proclaim yourself Minister. Why go through all that song and dance again?"
This was where Hermione's future knowledge really came in handy. She was an absolute wealth of knowledge of what not to do. He could not believe the person that he had devolved to in her time — Lord Voldemort. There was absolutely no way that he was going to repeat the mistakes that lead him to that, being killed by a baby, never able to defeat Harry Potter.
Though, he wasn't going to tell his Knights that Hermione was a time traveler.
"I'd thought of it," he said. "But I recently realized something very powerful. If we simply take power by force and overthrow the current government, it will give Dumbledore and his people something righteous to fight for. They will never stop fighting me if I seize power by force. And, then, I will never actually accomplish anything, because all of my time will be spent dealing with him and whatever stupid witches and wizards he convinces to join him."
"Well, I think this sounds like a solid plan, Tom. We still get what we want in the end, even if the way we get there isn't really how we imagined," Alfie said, from his spot at Tom's right hand. "Just say the word and I will do anything that I can to help you."
Abraxas stood up, slamming his hands on the table, making everyone's glasses shake and clank. "You cannot seriously be thinking about agreeing with this nonsense!" he shouted, looking up and down the table for anyone to agree with him. "I won't...I won't give you the support of my supporters in the Wizengamot."
Tom snapped his mouth shut tightly, his jaw clenched as he tried to stop from cursing the miserable wizard. Why couldn't Malfoy just do as he was told?
Luckily, Edmond was there to put Malfoy to rights, snorting in amusement. "Surely you don't think that you are the wizard who influences us purebloods in the Wizengamot, Brax?" he asked, looking at him like he was a simple child. "Don't worry, Tom, I can make sure that us purebloods support you again."
"I'll run against you!" Abraxas threatened. "This is lunacy that the others won't agree to if they knew your intentions. Orion, you'd vote for me, right? Avery?" he asked, looking more desperate by the minute.
Tom looked to Orion to see what the other wizard would do. He didn't really think that Abraxas was a threat, but he held his breath, wondering if prejudice against muggleborns would sway him.
Orion refused to meet Abraxas's eye. "Malfoy overestimates his own influence," he said, simply.
"I trust you to make the best decision, Tom," Avery added, obviously uncomfortable at being included.
"Edmond," Abraxas said, looking as though he wished he could disappear completely. "Be reasonable. I know you don't want this."
Lestrange gave the other wizard a smirk. "I've always wanted to be on the winning side, whatever that ends up being," he said, with finality. "And I'm not stupid enough to bet against Tom, and certainly not in your favor, Malfoy."
Sufficiently cowed, Malfoy withered and sat back down in his seat, obviously regretting ever having spoken up.
Tom smiled brightly, feeling buoyant after getting everyone around to his way of thinking on the topic. He'd been somewhat worried that his loyal followers might turn their backs on him. "Well, now that that's settled," he said, rolling his wand casually in his hand. "I believe we need to talk about punishments for Malfoy here, for giving me such terrible advice in the campaign. He falsely led me to believe that it was all but in hand and it left me humiliated. And I do not like to be humiliated."
He enjoyed the way that Malfoy wilted now that he'd been knocked down from his favored position. He would show that puffed up little social climber that Tom Riddle could not be manipulated.
