Author's Note:
Almost went nutty enough to try roasting some rice to make genmaicha (one of three of my favourite studying drinks). Luckily, I found a local version of it in the nearest store. On a more relevant note, this is a quieter chapter. Since chapters 24 and 25 are two parts of a whole, I can at least guarantee that I'll post them within a week of each other. Whether I'll post chapter 24 next week or in a fortnight depends on how impatient/bored/in need of distraction I am from my problem sets.
'-
23 La Société
Breakfast at the Ravenclaw table. One of the Free French Mages visits. Passing through ADADA. Lunch.
'-
Tom's near-superhuman organisation talents (or his ability to collect underlings that can pull it off) meant that they've already started tackling the troubles that trailed the steps of Tuesday's tragedy. She didn't know what to do with the rising animosity towards muggles (and possibly muggleborn) yet, but they now had a plan for Grindelwald and his unsavoury habits of using muggles as part of his attack force and meat shield. The last meeting had gained them the support of people enthusiastic enough to pick the cause as their own and start pushing pieces of the plan in place. She could leave that be for now and let it progress on its own pace.
This was why she was able to eat through her breakfast in peace right now, as students have only half-filled the Great Hall. Hermione had always been an early riser, and it was beneficial in giving her a peaceful time to get through more than half of her breakfast. She mulled over what she can do next.
Hermione was certainly thinking of making some sort of command room where they'd place this huge map of Europe. Then, every liaison to a team can update the search process on the map, as in, which areas they've checked, what the methods of checking are, etc. It would give everyone a clear idea which areas have been checked. It would also give everyone the incentive to pass on information if it meant they'd be able to get an overview of everyone else's work.
So yes, some sort of headquarters and information hub for Grindelwald's search? Hermione had a plan for that.
Sometime later, the lazier of her dormmates dragged herself down with eyes that were still half asleep. Some wizards might think that Lakshmi had bedroom eyes, and to Hermione, they were right. The dark-haired witch indeed had eyes that were regretting their presence at the long house table instead of the bedroom.
"Morning, Hermione." She muttered, fighting off a yawn.
"Morning, Lakshmi," Hermione greeted back.
The owls delivering morning posts and packages from home had started to fly in. One dropped between Hermione and her friend, politely waiting for someone to take its burden away. Delicately-painted nails took the newspaper and tipped the brown owl with some bacon—the only reason Lakshmi even had meat on a small plate in the first place. She read the news and made a long theatrical sigh of disappointment when nothing she found interesting came up.
Then, she passed on her subscription of the Daily Prophet to Hermione. They were refining the arrangement just now—Hermione was going to get priority reading the newspaper after Lakshmi herself, and in return, she was going to have to keep the other witch appraised of whatever it was the she and Tom were up to.
"What Tom and I are up to?" Hermione asked with a puzzled look. Lakshmi rolled her eyes.
"Did you miss the part where I said that he spins his web through the entire Slytherin House? He's always up to something. Now that he's nabbed you for his coterie, you'd be neck deep in whatever he's in as well."
"I thought you thought I was with Tom for clothing optional activities?"
The dark-haired witch sent her a look under half-lidded eyes. The uninitiated might have thought it sultry. Hermione knew it was one of serious consideration.
"I might have, but I think you're too boring for that—"
"I'm not too boring—"
"—though I have to commend you on your current ability to say that with a straight face. Besides, there is no way for a wizard like Riddle to stop going after power for any reason, much less a pretty witch—no offence on your prettiness at all, Hermione."
She raised her eyebrows at that. "Wow, that's harsh."
"No, that's realistic. So, you, my dear, will be right in the middle of whatever plot he's going to set off and definitely working on it. And if you're right there, the least you can do is save your dormmate a front row seat." For all the languid ease that she said this, Hermione knew that she was serious.
"Alright, I'll keep you up to date."
"Excellent! Now, here's your paper. I don't care if you do the crossword puzzle. Just be aware that Alvis Boot is going to hate you for it. He's always looking for the crossword."
"Hmmm, fine."
And that was how Hermione ended up scanning this morning's news and found nothing of particular interest (for now), and then passing it back to Lakshmi. It was her right to pick up who would be next in line to get the paper, after all, traded for some unspecified favour for currency. (the favour-trading system was alive and well in Ravenclaw as well).
What surprised Hermione was the figure striding from the Gryffindor table in her direction. And was that Eugenie, trying to keep up with the wizard?
"Good morning, Eugenie," Hermione greeted.
"Good morning, Hermione," here, the blonde paused to take a deep breath, her face a little red. The Gryffindor wizard with her stood straight in a gallant way that drew attention to his wide shoulders—it was the sort of posture that Hermione had come to recognise as one moulded by pureblood etiquette tutors from a young age. His head was topped with light-toned curls and it would have given him an angelic appearance if not for his impish smile.
"Hermione Curie, this is a friend of mine, Evariste de Breteuil. Evariste, this is my good friend Hermione Curie." She turned to Hermione. "Like the rest of the French émigrés, we've known each other from Beauxbatons."
"Charmed, Mademoiselle." He took the hand she offered and kissed the back of it. Eugenie only made a put-upon sigh and gazed heavenward.
"Well, err, it's good to know you," Hermione said.
Lakshmi was completely diverted at this new spectacle, as she gladly made space between herself and Hermione so that Eugenie can sit. "So, you've finally returned to us from the lair of the lions."
"There was a row I have no interest in partaking." She murmured.
Lakshmi seemed torn between finding out what the row at the Gryffindor tables was like and who the players are, and staying here to hear what could get a lion such as Evariste de Breteuil to cosy up to the raven's nest. In the end, sheer inertia won with her and she stayed.
"Montmorency is an egotistical retard," Evariste complained.
He casually asked for a space to sit from the fourth year sitting next to Hermione. The poor witch blushed and stammered, but she did made way. Hermione wondered why he was complaining to her out of all people. She wasn't a Slytherin.
"You have an issue with Mordred? Aren't you better off complaining to his house mates?"
He looked confused for a moment before he laughed, free and unrestrained.
"No! Not the Slytherin Montmorency, heir to the cadet branch. Goodness, no. I was talking of one of ours—Maximilien de Montmorency, heir to the primary branch of the Montmorencys. Maximilien is another émigré from the motherland and did attend your meeting yesterday; the one with plans of action against Grindelwald. Yet Max did not even inform any of us about it! Nor does 'e even have the excuse of finding it difficult to send a message to us—Melusine, we're all Gryffindors!"
Alright, Hermione thought as he talked, I can check the details on the family connections later. Not to mention that this other Montmorency sounded like a prick. She knew she'd forgotten how much genealogy she'd had to read whenever she was dealing with the old families. She barely had any memories on that front, just the sense of knowing that it was simply something to put on a to-do list. (Ignore the memory holes, she told herself, quickly plastering over any feelings of frustration).
"Since Maximilien 'as not the good grace to inform us of things pertinent to our interest, I am taking the matters into my own hands."
"Good for you," Hermione answered, as she was lacking other things to say.
She was more concerned with eating her toasts at this point. Was that croissant? Ah, one of the French Ravenclaws, perhaps Eugenie or Verrault, must have talked to the house elfs to have increased the variety of breakfast food. Hermione took one with relish as well as the nearest pot of butter.
"Especially when one of the masterminds are someone as charming as you are, Mademoiselle Curie. To create plans to set against Grindelwald! This is the best news I've 'eard in ages!"
His enthusiasm was surprising to her, because her general impression from most wizards and witches were that they'd rather not face Grindelwald at all. Then again, she hadn't seen much of the so-called Free French Mages other than Eugenie—compared to the British wizards and witches that have only recently been attacked by Grindelwald, it was only natural that they'd have an axe to grind against a full occupation of their country.
"I'm glad that you think so. I just thought that we cannot let this terrible impasse drag on endlessly." And any further attacks by Grindelwald will probably continue to raise anti-muggle and even anti-muggleborn sentiments. These were things she'd rather stop.
"Exactly my feeling too, but we 'ave scarcely seen any initiative from the British Ministry on that front."
"Oh, the changes are going to happen." Hermione assured him. "It would just take a while."
"Is it alright if I were to join in on your Society's meetings? You would not mind terribly if I were to continue calling on you to discuss this, do you?" He asked. He looked incredibly earnest and Hermione had to snap herself out of staring for too long into his blue eyes. Evariste was one of those males Hermione found incredibly distracting. Lucky for her, frequently being around Tom meant she'd had plenty of practise of inuring herself to such charm, so she managed to pull her thoughts back in order very quickly.
"I don't mind at all and I'm always open for discussion. To be honest, I've been trying to find an official liaison to the French Mages. I'm sure there are more dangerous and important events taking place in France than Britain, and it would be nice if we can get news about them quickly too."
"Then consider me your liaison, Mademoiselle 'ermione,"
"Please, just Hermione," she insisted, simply because Mademoiselle Hermione sounded too long.
"Then you must call me Evariste," he said, with that charming lopsided grin of his.
Hermione couldn't help grinning back. "Of course, Evariste. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a class to attend."
"What class do you have next on your schedule?" He asked.
Her hand went to one of her pockets. She did a quick glance to the mini-schedule she'd made to be pocket-sized.
"Technically, I have to choose between Advanced Arithmancy and Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I think I'll take the latter this week."
"Your choice is my good fortune! I am also taking that class. Let us leave there together."
"Sure."
Hermione secured the straps of her bag and stood up. It was only when she saw Evariste waiting for her with an extended hand that she remembered the etiquette of this era. She gave an inward sigh. Right, arm-in-arm it is. She took it without a second thought and the two made their way out of the Great Hall.
She had no idea what could have made Lakshmi giggle so excitedly. She would've guessed that Eugenie brought her some news of some Gryffindors' misfortune, or something close to that. Evariste seemed to either be naturally chatty, or was in a talkative mood, as he'd spoke up again when they entered the hallway.
"By the way, 'ermione, your performance yesterday was excellent!"
"Really?"
"Yes. It's not often one gets the good luck to see such an intense fight. Most people would rather not risk it and prefer to duel. Of course, it takes two fighters of equal level to achieve that effect. I'm still not sure I recognise all the spells used, and the both of you silently casting it most of the time does not 'elp at all."
It was hard not to smile at the memory. "Oh, yes, Tom is very good. The more I think of it, the more I don't regret it at all, even with all the wounds we ended up sustaining, because you don't improve if you don't get challenged."
He paused for a moment. "You 'ave serious wounds?"
Hermione shrugged. "It was nothing either of us can't heal, so I consider it still acceptable."
She had the vague inkling that Pythonis Ictus was a questionable spell to use, but who was going to know, anyway? There was only the faintest line left from yesterday's slash, undifferentiable from the remains of other cutting spells since she'd cleaned it properly. They did inflict damage on each other than was more than what most people could heal, but Tom did keep to his word and she to hers—as long as it was within their capabilities to fix, any spell was fair game. That was their rules.
"I was surprised at your fight," Evariste said.
"Why?"
"I did not expect Riddle to be so… aggressive. Riddle was always someone who would not get carried away in inter-House fights and arguments, even when 'is friends are involved. I'd always thought of him to be an uninteresting, dispassionate man, somebody that is British to a fault."
She laughed.
Hermione didn't care if Evariste turned his slightly baffled expression to her, but dispassionate was the last thing she'd used to describe Tom. He simply hid his intensity so well most of the time that no one noticed. Well, she supposed he was still stereotypically British that way.
"I think you should look again and more carefully. Our…Society, that you've mentioned before? Well, it was his brainchild, for one. I have plans and ideas, yes, the same as him, but he was the one who brought the people together."
'-
When they reached the DADA class, Hermione found it only natural to part ways with Evariste and go looking for Tom—just in case he chose to attend ADADA in this time slot instead of the Advanced Arithmancy they both also have on their schedule. It wasn't as if she was going to start duelling or fighting anyone else with her current head being as weird as it is. She found him easily, complete with the empty seat next to his and her lips curved in an unconscious smile. It was nice of him to save her a seat next to his—whatever his faults were, Tom Riddle was solicitous. Melchior Nott and Abraxas Malfoy sat in the row behind him, though why Abraxas paled as he saw her arrive, she had no idea.
"Good morning, Hermione."
"Good morning, Tom."
He greeted her first, and then his two minions followed. Now that she thought of it, Melchior seemed to be intently observing her too. Hermione frowned.
"Do I have something on my face?"
Melchior yelped. "No! Not at all, I was just…um, nothing. I thought I saw something and it turned out to be nothing."
She sighed. Whatever his issue was, he wasn't going to outright tell her right now and she didn't have the time to cajole him.
"Whatever you say, Melchior."
Professor Merrythought hadn't arrived yet, but the rest of the students had started to trickle in. She'd seen several wizards and witches glancing at her and Hermione was reminded yet again of her fight with Tom yesterday. Of course, that reminded her of what happened afterwards, and she soon had to bury her face in her hands and act like she was trying to massage away a slight headache when it was more like she didn't want her blush to be visible for all to see.
She was going to give him a second chance, right? It shouldn't be too odd if it turned out that there ended up being something between them. They were both very intelligent people with a love of knowledge who didn't always manage to find peers among people their age. He was good-looking, courteous beyond his initial lapses into psychopathy and she had hormones.
And she was not going to think about it right now. No. Class. You have to get through class, Hermione.
"I don't think I'm familiar with the wizard who escorted you in, Hermione," Tom commented.
Hermione raised her head. If he found her relieved smile odd, he didn't say anything; she was rather thankful for his interruption, because now she had a distraction she can set her mind to.
"Ah, Evariste de Breteuil. He's one of the Beauxbatons transfers, and as a consequence, a member of the loose association of Free French Mages. It would seem that one of their member was present yesterday, but he did not inform the rest of them about the meeting in the first place and they were annoyed at not being present for any sort of planning against Grindelwald."
"I think I recognised the one present yesterday. The French de Montmorency, wasn't it?"
"Yes, that's him. The other Gryffindor, Rajesh Setalvad, was more approachable than he is, and apparently even Montmorency's own House mates think he can be a pain."
"He did not tell them yet because he was still unsure. He was still testing the waters." Tom said.
She eyed him oddly. "And you know this how?"
"Because the Montmorencys are an old family and they did not survive that long in France without being prudent. He was uncertain of what the talks would be, and even now he doubts. If he thinks our way has a potential, he would've told his companions this."
"How on earth did you know him better than his friends?" Hermione was both impressed and annoyed. Tom's other Slytherins had started to trickle in, and she soon found herself nodding in reply to their greetings, no matter how odd she still found it.
"I studied him as I would any major heir. Besides, who's to say that his friends aren't trying to invite sympathy by feigning dissent and some sort of falling out?" Tom's voice was deceptively light. She knew he had a good point, though, even if she didn't find it as easy to assume the worst of the people around her as he seemed to.
Hermione thought over it. "I think the ensuing argument from Montmorency not telling the rest of the French wizards and witches was real. Eugenie walked away from the Gryffindor table back to the Ravenclaw one because she was annoyed by them rowing."
"I think you should ask Eugenie to relay you that conversation."
"Oh, I will. At lunch, probably." Hermione replied. "I almost forgot—Evariste asked me whether he can drop in at the Society's meeting. I told him to go ahead and drop in. We are trying to reach the widest audience that has connections to continental Europe, aren't we?"
"We are. We simply did not have that many contacts among the Gryffindors to be able to reach many of them in such a short time. Maximilien de Montmorency, as you may have surmised, heard of it from his Slytherin cousin."
"By the way, what are we naming the Society?"
Tom didn't have time to answer as the Professor had arrived and everyone began to prepare for class. Hermione resigned herself to being pulled aside some ten minutes at lunch time to share her memory of her last fight with the professor and break down her actions—it was still later, of course, but she just had the misfortune to have already remembered it now. Fortunately, it was more practise duels first. She guessed that Professor Merrythought would put the theoretical part of the class after this.
"Speaking of duels in class, I'm sure you can duel Abraxas and Melchior," Tom said to her.
"Mmm, why would you say that?"
"Because you took down Abraxas within five seconds. I'm sure he wouldn't be able to threaten you and trip your actual combat reflexes."
Hermione let out a surprised laughter at that before she immediately covered her mouth with her hands, embarrassed. Apparently, she wasn't the only one restraining her laughter, because she thought she'd heard Melchior snort before he turned it into a series of coughs. She turned around.
"I'm so sorry, Abraxas," she started.
The Malfoy heir gave her sheepish smile, but he seemed to be in a far better humour than she'd thought he would be.
"It's alright, Hermione. Tom was right, I need to improve more."
"Melchior as well. He never was much of a threat to you, was he? The only reason he lasted noticeably longer than Abraxas was because you didn't decide to take him down first." Tom said.
Tom didn't hide the pitiless edge from his usually nice smile. Hermione hid her snort of laughter. She really shouldn't feel so amused that he was politely tearing into his men.
She could hear a resigned sigh from behind her. "Yes, Tom. I was absolutely no threat to her at all."
"Capital. The two of you can explain that to Professor Merrythought when the class is paired off to duel so Hermione has partners other than me." He turned to her.
"On that note, Hermione, I think a quarter of the class casts with the speed of molasses and around another quarter are far too easy to intimidate. They would also not trip your sense of danger." Tom said.
"Ah, thank you." Hermione said, more out of reflex than anything else. Did he just flat out dismiss half the class within hearing distance of a few other students?
"They're not the speed of molasses, Tom," Melchior's even and much-tried tone could be heard. "Not all of us can silently cast most of our spells and or even abbreviate the wand movements."
"Well, obviously, you all should." Tom stated without care.
"Of course. We're just not there yet," Abraxas said optimistically.
"You're overestimating the speed of our progress, Abraxas," Melchior dryly noted.
"On the plus side, that means Hermione gets more target practice in." Tom added, before looking in her direction. "I'm sure you don't mind a little target practice, do you?"
"They're not that bad…" Melchior started, though he faltered when Tom sent a sceptical look his way.
"I'm sure they'd be good duellists," Hermione answered as nicely as she could.
Tom shook his head. "They're not much better than stationary targets, I tell you."
"Even you still have to move even when you duel someone like Ackers." Melchior said again, disagreeing with what he saw as misrepresentation of their class.
"Yes, well," Tom mused, "perhaps it's more akin to facing scarecrows placed on rails, then—mobile dummies. In any case, it's still not a problem for Hermione to duel them."
Nott made the defeated sound of someone who knew people would just miss his point.
Hermione had to duck her head after that. She really shouldn't have found it amusing that Tom was measuring the students of their class based on the degree of (in)competence, forgetting to be polite about other people's skill level. And all this just because he was more intent on getting her a list of people she can duel and fulfil the class' requirements. In a way, it was oddly endearing.
She froze. Did I just think Tom Marvolo Riddle as endearing?!
Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. That's it. She can officially say that she'd gone native in the time period.
'-
"Are you going to take Herbology after this or Ancient Runes?" Tom asked as the class ended.
Hermione wasn't surprised that he'd somehow memorised her schedule, considering that they shared seven classes out of her nine. Compared to hers, Tom's schedule only doubled over in five spots.
"Advanced Ancient Runes, I think." Hermione randomly chose.
"Why not Advanced Herbology? Not that I'm not pleased to have intelligent company for Ancient Runes." He said.
She thought over it for a while before answering. "Well, Professor Spore was rather satisfied with my grasp of the foundations of biology and herbology, so I think my Advanced Herbology is going to look closer to independent research from this point on."
"Less burden on your class schedule, then," he noted.
"Exactly! Of course, I'd have to occasionally allocate time to present my project to the whole class and help improve their understanding of the vascular structure of dicots and monocots, and maybe go over some rudimentary phylogeny of some fruit trees once Professor Spore touches grafting later—it's fascinating how much flexibility Hogwarts professors have in writing and adjusting their own curriculum! I'd probably use the Rosaceae family as an example for that, but…alright, that's neither here nor there and I'm rambling. Again."
She gave Tom an unamused look that clearly said he should've stopped her earlier.
Tom had one of his smirks now. "I find your projects rather interesting, actually."
"Yes, but I think neither Abraxas or Melchior wanted to hear about it." She said.
"Um, no, it's absolutely fine. You can talk about your classes" Nott affirmed. She had the feeling that he was trying to get her to not stare at him.
"And I didn't get anything much, but it's alright too," Abraxas assured her. "Sometimes listening to Tom gave me a similar sensation."
Hermione had to admire Abraxas' resilience, really. He certainly wasn't intimidated or annoyed—he seemed to just have accepted her intense and difficult academic interest as it is and rolled with it. She couldn't help her smile when Tom gazed heavenward and sigh in resignation before giving her a look that clearly said 'do you see what I have to work with?'
"Aww, you're both so very nice, has anyone ever told you that?" She said with a large grin, enjoying the sheer weirdness the whole scene was giving her. If her life was going to be absurd, she might as well enjoy the show. These were men who, in a different world, would have become the core Death Eaters, were now trying to win her favour, or at the very least avoid her disfavour.
Abraxas puffed up happily and accepted her compliment easily. Melchior was staring at her as if she was nuts while frankly confirming that no, no one ever told him he was nice. She found him to be entertainingly truthful. Was this how Luna felt when she managed to confound people? No wonder she kept doing it, then. It was fun.
She took Tom's arm without thinking when he offered it. Abraxas and Melchior took their leave as they would be taking a different class from the two of them. The other two Slytherins whose names she hasn't remembered had left earlier. Hermione and Tom were on their way out when Evariste caught up with them. He seemed surprised to see the two of them. She took the opportunity to introduce them.
"Ah, Tom, this is Evariste de Breteuil, a Gryffindor and one of the Free French Mages. Evariste, this is Tom Riddle of the Society."
"It's good to know you, de Breteuil."
"And I've been curious to know you, Riddle. You don't mind if my peers and I attend the meetings, do you?"
"We'll be glad for your company. I have always thought that the more news we have from the continent, the better position we'll be in. It is never to our advantage to be blind to Grindelwald's movements." Tom's reply was even and measured.
They still seemed to be the right words because she could see the spark lighting up in Evariste's eyes.
"My cousins are out there, fighting back, along with others of the family. They do not 'ave to go to school. At least one of them is already married! They could be men while I'm treated like a child and coddled. I would've easily joined them if my family would accept it for I dislike feeling so useless."
"I can't imagine they'd allow the heir to risk his life and limb before the continuation of the primary branch is assured. You are aware that more than one wizarding families have died off in the middle of a war, aren't you?" The cold truth in his assessment forced the Gryffindor down from his fervour. Evariste was still discontent.
"Well, yes, but it's not as if I would go out looking for danger and death myself. I am not suicidal."
"They might change their tune if you're willing to let them match you right now—I'm sure they'd be ecstatic to hear that you're ready to settle down. Once there is a child on the way, preferably two, and I'm sure they'll let you fight in the field." Tom pointed out astutely.
Hermione was still trying to wrap her head around the politics of noble marriage (because that's what the purebloods are) when the French wizard coloured.
"I suppose you are right. It does not mean that I wish to stand still and do nothing."
"Of that, you need not worry with us. Welcome to the Society, de Breteuil."
Hermione could almost see the point where everything clicked together in Evariste's mind, and he decided that it was the best idea he could have to throw his lot with them. It was in the assurance Tom could easily project and give, and she knew exactly why. As practitioners of magic grew increasingly powerful and skilled, the more that sheer weight of their magic in the fabric of reality would compel people to pay attention, to listen, to follow. Magic changes the wielder in a way that transcends physical age, at times even speeding the brain's maturation. Power feeds charisma at a most basic level—and Tom had an overabundance of both.
At least she knew that they'd have French contacts now. She wondered just how large the de Breteuil's extended family was, and how many of them were over at France right now.
Hmm, it would seem she had missed some chit-chat between Tom and Evariste while she was ruminating. No matter, it probably wasn't that important.
"Are you going to Transfigurations right now?" Evariste asked.
Tom's smile was perfectly polite. "I'm afraid not. We're both taking Advanced Ancient Runes, you see."
'-
Eugenie caught up with her at lunch. It seemed that Hermione was not the only one who had quickly made their way to the hall from class.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me," the blonde said, sending her looks of displeasure.
"I didn't tell you what?" Hermione's brows furrowed.
"The Society! I had to hear about it from de Montmorency and he can't say anything without that particular tone that seems to say how he always knows more than anyone else. It's grating to hear more than ten minutes." Eugenie pouted as she folded her arms in front of her chest. She looked like a disappointed fairy.
Hermione had to hold herself back from just hugging the blonde outright because she was so cute. She was sure Eugenie wouldn't appreciate that right now.
"I didn't even know about the Society until I was in the meeting. It had been some chats with Tom and the Ministry kids, then we were bouncing ideas off one another on the way to Arithmancy, and suddenly he pulls off a meeting in the evening! I didn't see that coming at all." The brunette insisted.
Eugenie perked up at that.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. If I'd known that we were planning that, I might have talked about it to you and Lakshmi, and even Lucretia if I met her, wondering what he was up to. Anyway, I didn't even know what you do with the French Gryffindors."
She sighed. "It all started as a way to vent their frustration after they saw that Grindelwald dared to stage a big attack on British soil—the nerve of him! Of course, after that, de Montmorency started pulling others to consider possible actions that can be done instead of just railing against the dark wizard. He was always the pragmatic one."
"Well, at least now I know that, and now you know what Tom had been planning, are we alright?"
"Hmm. Would you mind if I come too?"
"I don't mind at all. I have to ask, though, are there still many Delacours in France right now?"
That subdued Eugenie's enthusiasm a little. "Yes. It's not always easy or practical to immediately uproot an entire family and move it across the Channel, you know?"
"Oh, I understand. I'm just asking because, well," Hermione faltered a little. Could she say this? Who was she to ask this of them? Her hands fiddled with her skirt as she considered it. "I wouldn't want them to face more dangers than they already have to, and I'm sure their lives are difficult enough as it is. But is it possible for us to hear news from them? It doesn't have to be much, you know, but perhaps we could make sense of it when we combine it with other information sources."
Oddly enough, the blonde seemed to be in a better mood when she heard that.
"You'd want information too? We can do that!"
"Well, no need to hurry right now. There's still the next meeting, and I'm sure that some people have a better idea about what we actually need to know than I do. Heck, maybe you should have that talk with Evariste in the first place, as his cousins seems to be fighting in the continent?"
Surprisingly, Eugenie snorted. "Evariste? He's left out cold here in England, what does he know?"
She didn't know what was behind her friend's annoyance, so she stayed neutral. Maybe Evariste's exuberance was grating after a while to a shy witch like Eugenie.
"Well, in that case, maybe we can convince him that he didn't have to be out there and fighting to help. He could help them by helping to coordinate information."
Hermione huffed at her friend's look of uncertainty.
"Honestly, we're magiciennes, Eugenie. Distance doesn't exactly mean much to us. So Evariste's family is forcing him to go to Hogwarts because he's the heir of the main family? It doesn't mean he can't go to Hogsmeade during the weekends, get a room at the Boar's Head, or whatever the inn there is called, and tell his cousins to floo up to his room. See? He's still in Britain. His family would have nothing to complain about. Then, they can chat and exchange information."
"You're not suggesting that he floo his cousins in to Hogwarts?" Eugenie asked curiously.
She shook her head. "No, that's not a good idea."
"Really? But Hogwarts has wards that will secure us."
Hermione stared at Eugenie and wondered when the last time she had been so optimistic was, so trusting in the invulnerability of Hogwarts as well as the infallibility of the senior wizards and witches. It had been a while. Even she, Harry and Ron ended up going on their horcrux hunt on their own, didn't they?
"Well first, we don't know how secure they are over there. Someone might eavesdrop him. At least Hogsmeade is still some distance away from Hogwarts. Two, I'd rather not have him invite someone and thus unknowingly bypass Hogwarts' wards. It's not the issue of his cousins at all, rather, what if someone with ill intent waited until he calls his cousin over and then follows right after? I'm not sure if the wards would reject those people and Hogwarts could be attacked from the inside that way."
Her friend paled. Hermione sighed when she remembered that not everyone had gone through war and consider security precautions as a matter of fact.
"How do you even think about such dreadful things?" Eugenie whispered. Hermione rubbed her arm to comfort her, before deciding to just pull the blonde by the shoulder so she was hugging her sideways.
"If I think about them, then I can stop them. If I don't think about them, someone on the other side will. To try to outthink them is a safety measure, Eugenie."
"Well, I'm glad you're the one that gets to come up with these things instead of me." Her reply was a little mulish, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, you're not going to get drafted for it, don't worry. I'm used to it."
Lakshmi came upon them not long afterwards, and she looked askance at the easy mood between them. Her amber eyes narrowed as she seated herself next to Hermione.
"I missed something big, didn't I? Eugenie, just this morning you were complaining about Hermione forgetting you! What happened?"
"I was overreacting. It turned out that Hermione didn't even know about the Society meeting until she was in it. It was all Tom Riddle's plan happening too quickly."
Lakshmi almost cackled at that as she turned her victorious look to Hermione. "Ha! What did I tell you? He's always up to something. Now come on, spill. I don't think I've heard the details about that yet."
"I saw you chat with Daedalus this morning!" Hermione complained.
"Well, yes, but I didn't get all the details, you see. Then, there are things I'm sure only you could tell me, Hermione."
Hermione prepared to take her lunch as she resigned herself to recounting the meeting again. Maybe she should invite Lakshmi over to the Society meetings as well? Merlin knows she was getting tired of repeating the same thing over after she went over it with Evariste.
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End Notes:
Additional Notes:
Evariste Emmanuel de Breteuil (OC): Fifth-year Gryffindor, French transfer from Beauxbatons. The classes that he shares with Hermione are Advanced Charms and ADADA. The particle in his name indicated that his family is one of the older pureblood ones, which is the closest thing to nobility that they have. This makes him a prominent member of the French wizarding society. 'Evariste' itself means 'beautiful form'. Rather impetuous.
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