"Oi, where you headed off to, Hermione?"
"Hm?" She turned on her heel at Ron's voice. "I'm going to talk about the essay due this—" His eyes had already glazed over, but Draco and Harry were both still contemplating her. "Due this Thursday. I'm worried I didn't cover the benefits of using the shield-bolstering charm with Protego Maxima well enough."
Draco rolled his eyes. "I looked it over yesterday and said it was fine, didn't I?"
"Yes." She bit her lip. "I just thought, since we have most of the week before it's due, it would be nice to get a little insight from a professor."
"Of course, 'fine' is not good enough for Hermione Granger. Professor Flitwick will be thrilled, I'm sure," he said with a laugh.
"Careful not to excite 'im too much or Flitwick might fall off his stool," Ron added.
Hermione tutted at the redhead. " Professor Flitwick, Ronald, and that's quite rude."
He grinned and shrugged, not having the grace to blush from his faux pas either.
Harry only said, "We'll see you later, Hermione," before she was off, but his emerald eyes lingered on her until she left the common room.
He turned to find Draco doing the same. They locked gazes and Draco's jaw tightened.
She roamed the near-empty halls; it was a Sunday, and most of Hogwarts was still in the Great Hall or their dorms. Hermione caught shadows and echoes of the occasional wanderer, and once the pearlescent transparency of the Grey Lady as she passed through nearby walls. Otherwise, she was alone with her thoughts.
It was the second Saturday of the term, and she was establishing her routine. With nine classes, it was still quite the course load. Every professor had raised their expectations for the NEWTs levels, so despite taking two fewer courses than in previous years, Hermione often found herself studying by lumos late into the night. At least the charms around her four-poster bed were strong enough that she didn't disturb her dormmates with her late-night habits.
Harry and Ron were taking five, and Draco was taking six. None of them were taking History or Astronomy or Ancient Runes. Hermione rationalized the first that they had all been raised in the Wizarding world since birth, whereas she had been late at four. She still couldn't understand how anyone could want to forego Runes. Draco was still in Arithmancy with her, but that was for practical reasons. Even he seemed frazzled with the workload.
Well, everyone had warned Hermione it would be intensive, but that was where she shone best. Additionally, she had her prefect duties and she assisted Professor Riddle with club activities.
It also helped distract her mind from less savory thoughts. Working tirelessly from sunrise until past midnight most nights kept her so exhausted that she had no room for anything else until she collapsed against her sheets. Those spare moments before sleep overtook her were what Hermione dreaded most. Memories would float at the edges of her consciousness like whispering ghosts. Slick leather gloves and hair like white silk, the clack of the cane against the hard floor, lowly murmured praises that had her brimming with shame...
Those were her weakest moments.
She found herself outside the DADA office door before she knew it and took a moment to steady herself before rapping a tattoo on the surface.
"Come in."
Tom glanced up from his book; a boyish smile overtook his features at her entrance. "Punctual as ever, sweetheart. Come." She followed his gesture to take the seat beside him, and his fingers immediately slid into her riotous curls. "I hope your friends didn't give you too much trouble."
"I told them it was for an essay, and they tuned me out immediately," she said to his amusement.
He leaned closer to say against her lips, "Teenage boys are truly fools." And then his mouth was upon hers in a gentle kiss.
He had only started greeting her with a kiss the last two times she had seen him, and there was no other intimacy. He was being careful not to frighten her, and she appreciated it. With everything that had happened during the summer holidays, she didn't think she could handle more, even with Tom. Tom, whom she'd been at least half in love with since her first year, though he had seemed as distant as stars in the night sky then.
"What are you reading?" she asked once they had parted, and she'd regained her breath.
Tom turned the cover for her to read it: Unforgivable Curses and Their Legal Implications: Volume I.
"Oh. Is it interesting?"
The corner of his mouth ticked up. "It is. Would you like to read it?"
"I couldn't possibly—"
He shut it and pushed it into her lap. "Nonsense, love. I've perused it at least a dozen times. I would have recommended it in time anyway; you're too far ahead of your peers to get anything of substance from the class material these days. And our library is limited in some areas, as I'm sure you've realized. Even the Restricted Section is highly curated."
She smoothed her hands over the textured cover of the book. "How many volumes are there?" Her heart was already loud in her chest from his praise.
"Three, and I have the others when you've finished this one." His midnight eyes glimmered at her sunny smile. "This year, I'd like to broaden your horizons. You're far too intelligent to limit yourself to what others deem appropriate."
"I'm just highly logical, not a genius or anything," she countered.
"No, Hermione. Don't diminish yourself." He touched her burning cheeks to make her face him. "You are a powerful witch in your own rights. Have you ever encountered a spell you couldn't manage?" She shook her head. "Exactly. Power and intelligence are both rare enough, but in the same package... a witch like you comes maybe once a century."
The flattery lit a candle in her; she was buoyant and light and warm. She couldn't think of a response that wouldn't sound like she was fishing for more, and it would be mortifying if Tom believed such a thing about her.
Her face was always so expressive; Tom chuckled and stroked his thumb along her cheekbone.
"It's alright that you like praise, sweetheart. You deserve it."
"Thank you," she breathed.
His eyes dipped to her mouth, and he licked his lips. "I wonder how deeply seated that goes. Would you like it if I praised your appearance? The smoothness of your skin? The sweetness of your kiss." Tom leaned forward so his breath stirred against her ear. "I'll discover much more to praise in time." His free hand landed on her clothed thigh and squeezed.
She was suspended between apprehension and desire; events with Lucius Malfoy were still too near, but Hermione had wanted Tom Riddle for longer than she would admit to herself. She wanted to throw herself at him; she wanted to flee.
Tom leaned back in his seat. "There will be plenty of time for that in the future. Now, tell me, how are your friends celebrating the big day?"
"What?" The sudden change in topic was as confusing as his talk about a celebration. There wasn't anything important on the horizon; it was only September!
Tom raised his brows, lips curling inward.
The next big holiday was Halloween, next month. There was only one thing of note in September, and that was the start of the school year. Why, every year she counted the days until the new term more ardently than she did to...
It hit her quite suddenly and Hermione wanted to smack herself. "My birthday."
"Yes, love, your birthday. This year is your seventeenth birthday, yes?" His eyes glimmered with unvoiced laughter.
Hermione flushed to her toes. "Yes. Ordinarily, Narcissa would have some plan, but, well, with things the way they are..." She shrugged.
"I'm sure the occasion won't go unobserved. You'll finally be of age in the Wizarding world." He stroked back her curls. "Would you visit me that evening? I want to wish you a happy birthday in person."
She nodded shyly, then frowned. "I don't know when your birthday is."
"I don't really celebrate it. If I had to guess, old Sluggy and Albus might remember, but no one else." He shrugged off the thought so casually it made her chest tight.
Hermione pressed a hand over one of his. "Would you tell me?"
"You truly want to know?" She nodded. "Sweet girl. It's December thirty-first."
"New Year's Eve?" Hermione squeezed his hand. "It's fitting, I think. I'll never forget it."
He smiled and stared into her eyes for a moment. "Now, what are we working on today, sweetheart? Have you finished all the work assigned for the week?"
She nodded eagerly and drew her satchel onto her lap for him to peruse. "Although Professor Snape sometimes likes to assign essays due the same week. That's happening in more classes this year, as well. It's in preparation for our NEWTs?"
"Indeed, it is. We have to prepare you to sit the written exams. They'll be much more arduous than your OWLs." He glanced up from the Charms essay Hermione had used as an excuse for her friends. "Not that you'll have any trouble. I daresay you could sit them right now and make a good showing of it."
Anxiety spiked through her at the idea. "Don't say things like that! I'm not nearly prepared."
"You mean you mightn't get straight Oustandings?" Tom gasped. "The absolute horror."
She smacked his arm with all the violence of a butterfly. "It's not funny." A smile was tugging at her lips even as she tried to pout. "It's serious. This is about my future."
"My darling girl, I've already told you. I have your future waiting for you."
"What is it, Tom?" She had thought long on what purpose he had for her; Tom had sought to cultivate her even before they had started what she refused to name. He must have seen something in her quite young. Hermione had always felt appreciated in his classes, special.
"You'll stand by my side, Hermione," he said.
"But what will I do ?" she pushed.
Tom tapped his chin, midnight sky eyes darting to the wall as he thought. "You will be the most important person to me, the first I turn to for advice. I shall also utilize that beautiful mind of yours to check the work of others, to research, translate and calculate whatever I need. Changing society is no small feat, Hermione, and I can hardly handle all the details on my own."
"Do you have many people working for you?" Bellatrix Lestrange's fanatic expression flashed through her memory.
"Quite a few, yes," he admitted. "I've been building my network since my own school days."
"Like Bellatrix." Her heart sped as she said the name.
The lines of Tom's face fell into cool detachment. "Yes, Bellatrix works as part of my network, though she works against it nearly as often."
She frowned. "Why keep her, then?"
"She is one of the few living members of the Black family, and now also leads her husband around by his nose. While the Lestranges might have more influence in France, their clout in Britain isn't small." He stood and strode to his desk for a black leatherbound book. "The Malfoys are unusually obstinate. I'd hoped Lucius would prove more amenable than his father, but if anything, he is worse. Draco is promising." He shot her a smile. "No doubt partially your influence."
The need to defend her friend rose. "Draco has his moments where he is more like his father, but he's much more akin to Narcissa. She's a gentle woman."
"Gentleness, yes." Tom flipped through the book as he spoke. "You know this will likely turn violent, don't you, Hermione?"
She hadn't thought about it over much. "I— well, I suppose."
"Darling." His tone and the matching disappointed gaze burned her. "Revolution never happens peacefully. Why else do you think I'm set on preparing you all?"
Tears crept over her eyes. "How violent? I don't think I could ever— ever kill someone." The last words were a whisper.
"And that is precisely why you have me. I will guide you in all things." He stroked her curls and gazed down at her fondly, but there was something in his sad smile that curdled her stomach and made her feel lesser.
Once more, Bellatrix Lestrange's words echoed in her mind, twining with what Lucius had told her about the Heir of Slytherin.
Together, they formed a seed of doubt in the back of her mind.
Notes:
Howdy everyone, and welcome to another monthly installment of To the Victors. I'm your host, Freya Fallen... First up, my monthly announcements:
posts/84933122
I'm starting raffles for commissions/extra updates and going to be working on all that as I move. I've also written three times more than May, so that's good.
I have up to about Chapter 60 now. When I finally, finally finish I'll be going back to weekly updates, but I want to make sure I have content to share regularly so no one is left wondering when the next chapter drops. It frustrates me, it frustrates you. It's a lot.
Other than my original works, I haven't been working on anything new. I'm trying to finish things first, look at that.
I'm excited for some of the upcoming things in this story, to include an outtake or two. I may eventually post a series of Tom chapters from throughout the whole thing. I've gotten some fun reactions on it all, so I'm sure y'all will like it.
WIP of the month is a crackfic with Camie from the My Hero Academia anime set in a Hunger Games AU.
Anyway, I'm off to work on preparing my house for sale some more. TTFN.