Author's Note:

Merde, I last updated when? More than a year? Right. I think I'm getting a little too obsessive in making sure I was satisfied with this chapter, because clearly, I'm not ever going to be satisfied with it even as other people are. Better update this than end up to not update at all in this freaking year. I don't even have time to sync my updates in FFNet and Wattpad.

This is why I've only updated the FFNet one now, just 1-2 hours before I'll upload chapter 78.

So, I'm moving my life back into gear-5 speed, after having it somewhat on hold for several years before because after my father's death, things got complicated with his second wife. To put it simply, she was also aiming at my deceased's mother's assets. We ran out of patience after handing some of my father's stuff and told her we'll just meet in court if she's convinced that we owe her more, somehow. Unexpectedly, she actually chickened out and just...faded out of view. Huh. Unexpected, but I'm not complaining. I'm pretty sure none of you are interested in more details of that particular saga, other than how I guess it's sorta done now. Now that I've done some serious career planning and did stuff to kickstart it again as opposed to the limbo I was sort of in before (because I can't focus while juggling an possible protracted legal battle), my schedule is swamped once more. I still want to finish this story, though! Preferably before I somehow get a permanent teaching position and/or a step up in a research-leaning company or something. I'm trying to shove planning and writing for this between my planning and writing of various papers, just...wish me luck everyone.

TL;DR: I don't need to care about someone trying to claw some inheritance anymore. My schedule is still crazy, but it feels more controlled now, because at least I'm actively deciding where I want this crazy train to go. Hopefully that means more time for writing.

Just to reiterate what I've said on the previous chapter, I'm practically not on FFNet unless I'm updating. I used to just rely on FFNet's alert system to tell me when there's a new review/comment here. I'm beginning to think it's borked for a while now since I have 0 alerts... So, just saying that I respond the fastest to my AO3 account, simply because the alert system is far more reliable.

'-

77 Office Visits

In Diagon Alley with Hermione and Lakshmi. In which Hermione remembers that she has something to do in the DMLE. Checking in with the Aurors on shift duty. Back in Hogwarts, Tom has an important meeting he wants to have.

'-

The varied rooftops of Diagon Alley were half-covered in snow. It struck Hermione now how dated everything looked to her eyes, with the people wearing various clothes of the last half century (wizards and witches tended to be more resistant to changing their preferred fashion sense than the nonmagical people). Add the half-timbered buildings not too different from the ones in Shakespeare's home city of Avon, and it was a scene fit for a postcard.

Her boots paused on her next step after it landed on cobblestones. The brunette student remembered that she also had something else she needed to do in London—she might as well do it now while she was here.

"Lakshmi, are you in a hurry to go back to Hogwarts?"

"Hmmm, no, not really. Why? Ah I know, you have something else to do, don't you?" When Lakshmi turned to her, the dimples on her cheeks showed with her grin.

Hermione scrunched her nose in thought.

"You might find it boring, though."

"Or I might not. I won't know until you tell me. So, what is it?"

"More Society business" Hermione began as she started walking again. Lakshmi followed suit. "Tom and I decided that if we're going to have some sort of adult supervision, it might as well be a useful one. So, we're going to contact an Auror."

Lakshmi tapped two of her fingers over her lips as she mulled it over. "That does sound like some rather serious business."

"Not really. We just need to have some sort of information exchange program to reduce search redundancy… and why are you looking at me like that?"

"Hermione, I only have the vaguest idea of what your society does. Whatever that was, it sounds like you're overplanning things again." Lakshmi pointed out with a finely gloved hand.

"I don't—" Hermione exhaled a sigh as she renewed her warming charm. "Right, never mind that."

"Besides, I'm only interested in being there to get front row seats to any gossip happening. I'm not going to do whatever crazy stuff the rest of you want to do about—" the other Ravenclaw shuddered, "—Grindelwald. I am not going to seek him out on my own. I'm not that crazy."

The brunette couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Nobody's going to go looking for Grindelwald."

"Riiiight," Lakshmi nodded sceptically. "I heard from Daedalus that you explained out that position in front of everyone, but I'm sure you still have a plan for it. Somewhere. I don't mind if you'd sign me up for some random administrative stuff from time-to-time if you need the help, or if you need someone to arrange the refreshments before a meeting with the house elfs. Otherwise, I'd rather be part of the scenery."

"It's just search data, Lakshmi, really."

"I also cornered Nott the other day—well, him and Malfoy, separately, but Malfoy's mostly clueless. Nott, however…when asked some very specific questions admitted that your contingent plans about continent trips worries him. I'm most certainly not going anywhere outside Britain, just so you know."

Lakshmi was giving her the side-eye.

"That's entirely voluntary and it might still not come to that," Hermione huffed. "Really, Melchior's a bit of a worrywart sometimes."

Her friend shrugged. "Alright, then. I'm in as long as I can join very casually."

"Of course you can."

"Great! Let's find this Auror you want for backup, then." She clasped her hands. Lakshmi's expression changed completely into a grin and no trace of distress could be found. There was even a bounce in her steps as she went in the directions of the Ministry of Magic.

"I hope they have an excellent duelling record."

"I'm really not looking for a fight. Really," Hermione mostly mumbled the rest of her sentence. "Anyway, duelling and fighting are two related but not quite identical skills. I'm better at the latter, for one, as there's no requirement that you have to be civilised about it…"

The two of them made their way down Diagon Alley at a leisurely pace.

'-

The Ministry of Magic technically doesn't open on Saturdays. Yet some people were still in the offices from time-to-time, sometimes due to unusual circumstances, or in the case of the DMLE, the necessity to have some sort of shift to always be prepared for an emergency. She'd thought there was no harm checking to see if Moody was in right now.

Their footsteps had the faint reverb of an echo as they entered the open space of the main service lobby. Pale winter sunlight streamed in from the tall windows and the occasional neo-classical stained glass.

"Huh, it does feel huge without all the people." Lakshmi commented.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, glancing around. "It does."

No public service office or booth were open, and without the hustle and bustle of the crowds the place had the solemnity of an abandoned cathedral. There were none of the usual clumps of confused people trying to find the appropriate sub-department they had been referred to either. No occasional junior staff and interns fast-walking their way through the open space—religiously not making any eye contact and desperately not wanting to get caught by a passing visitor to guide them.

Hermione would know. She had been such junior peon along with her friends, not long after they graduated Hogwarts. Of course, before they were free to do that, they had to contend with Voldemort, his Death Eaters and the burning chaos that was the war.

(A broken fountain from a different entrance, a fallen comrade. A line of blood splashed on a Ministry wall, dripping down. A severed hand, turning bilious white without blood circulation.)

The brunette closed her eyes and shook the fragmented memories away.

"…?"

It was rather ironic that she saw them now; she didn't even saw a glimpse of these images when Blakeshaw lead her here. Perhaps it was the lack of people, and how the place had been virtually unchanged even after over half a century—the Ministry she saw now was closer to the one in her Bad Memories.

Uncomfortably similar.

"Hermione."

She felt a gentle hand slowly grasp her left arm. Hermione looked up and saw Lakshmi's steady gaze. Her friend didn't ask anything. "I saw a couple of benches near the windows over there. We can sit for a while."

Hermione wanted to refuse, and she probably would do that easily if Lakshmi had insisted. But the other Ravenclaw witch merely waited, as if she had all the time in the world and as if the silence didn't bother her. Brown eyes met amber, and Hermione's open mouth couldn't voice her excuses.

"I…"

Lakshmi shrugged. "Like I've said, I'm not in a hurry, anyway."

Hermione inhaled slowly, before deciding that sitting down for a spell might not be such a bad idea.

(I'm fine. I'm—)

"What, you think we can stare at the falling snow for a bit?"

"It's not the worst thing to do," Lakshmi replied. Perhaps it was because she was so at ease that Hermione found herself relaxing. They reached the bench Lakshmi referred to, one of several. She did turn sideways to stare at the snow better. Lakshmi sat down casually as if she did this every day. Hermione pulled her wand out for a while, feeling its solidity in her hand and the comforting hum of its resonance with her own magic.

It didn't take long before Hermione spoke up.

"How did you have the experience with this?"

"My mother gets lost in thought quite often when we first arrived in Britain." Lakshmi spoke up. "My healer uncle was worried and he got her to visit a colleague of his who was a mind healer. We visited together as a family at one point, and learned of the things that helped."

Lakshmi's father was dead, and the memory suddenly smacked her in the face. She felt slightly embarrassed that it wasn't something that always came to mind about her friend. 'He can't get any deader.' The brunette could still recall Lakshmi's own voice saying it—the bluntness with which she laid the truth bare was not often matched.

"I'm sorry for what your mother had to face," Hermione said, with genuine feeling. "I've just realised that I've never really asked you about your family either."

Lakshmi smirked, but waved it away easily. "It's fine. She's better now, don't worry about it."

"Still…"

"Besides, we're all here now." She said this with a small shrug.

At first, Hermione thought she was talking of the two of them being in the Ministry. Then, she realised that the other witch was probably referring to her family.

"Your entire family moved to the UK?" Hermione hazarded a question, just to be sure.

"Yes. It definitely beats getting dragged into yet-another blasted feud due to some dead old-fogeys fighting from who-knows-when." Her answer came with the same blasé tone.

Hermione recalled previous passing comments from her dormmate, of how she was glad that Britain's Auror force had a good grip on public order and safety. Or how Lakshmi scoffed at the idea of monarchies, but never really bothered to comment on possible alternative—probably just not caring enough for it. Or her reason to not take ADADA when pressed on it by one of the French Gryffindors, and how it was useful to know how to defend yourself when someone's trying to kill you.

Lakshmi had smiled and said, "Oh Honey, if I want to kill somebody, they won't see me coming. Nobody cares about that when your Family's party to a blood feud."

Hermione suspected that being part of the upper class was not always so peaceful in places where such long-running, internecine conflicts were a fact of life from time to time. It made her wonder what old Britain was like, before the Aurors gained enough institutional power to maintain the peace and established themselves as worth watching out for. Was it ever that bad too? She knew there had been some bloody history among the Scottish highland families, for one.

"So," Lakshmi started after some time, "who's the Auror that we're looking for?"

'-

Hermione hadn't expected to see Moody in the office. She had hoped for it, yes, but hadn't thought that it was very probable. After all, there were hundreds of Aurors in the DMLE and Moody was just one of many. Saturday afternoon was also an inconvenient time that most people would try to dodge, and it was usually two newbies that was stuck with it.

She knocked at the door to the Auror's wing.

Only the largest fireplace was lit in the room when Hermione opened the door, and it crackled merrily. Something about Moody's exasperated look struck her as somewhat funny.

"How did you even get here?" He grumped.

He might have muttered something about how a lot of Hogwarts students seem to like dropping in the DMLE willy-nilly, but she probably misheard that.

Hermione grinned back without answering his question.

"Good afternoon, Moody! I see you're manning the watch shift right now—oh, wait, no, that'd be the two Aurors near the back?"

The brunette nodded at the junior Aurors, and both were somewhat flatfooted by her presence. One of them was in the middle of eating his sandwich, and his random effort at a mumbled greeting dropped a rather large piece of bitten sandwich from his mouth. His colleague winced and casted Scourgify at the misshapen lump shiny with saliva on the table.

Lakshmi was clearly repulsed, but morbid fascination had grabbed on to her and she couldn't look away. Hermione thought that her dormmate was already doing her diplomatic best by not making a sound.

"Oh, Merlin's balls, Jape! Were you raised by hyenas? That is awful." Moody frowned as he stood up.

Jape was slowly turning red as he realised that everyone was still staring at him between horrified curiosity and disgust. Lakshmi was biting her lower lip now, clearly doing her best to stop any laughter from escaping. It was a good thing that her skin was light copper-tone in shade, otherwise it would be too visibly red from holding her breath.

"Ah, I think I've seen you two before at St. Mungo's. It's good to see you two again." Hermione gamely said with an even tone, waving to them both.

"Ah, the apprentice nurse!" The witch's eyes widened in recognition.

"Yes, Brinley, Jape, it's Hermione Curie." Moody added quickly. "Jape, just…"

Moody didn't even need to finish that sentence before he ran out. Hermione guessed he might want to change clothes, but what she knew he would certainly do was avoid them until their visit was over.

It was either that, or get the earth to swallow him, she thought sympathetically. She could relate.

Lakshmi exhaled and let out a gasping laughter. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it in anymore."

Brinley's lips were twitching at the corner at that. She lowered her head in embarrassment because she was in a similar state. Hermione stepped in at that point.

"Ah, alright, Moody, this is my dormmate, Lakshmi Chakravarty. Lakshmi, this is Alastor Moody, Auror."

"Well, it's interesting to meet you," Lakshmi said frankly, even as she extended a hand. Moody mumbled something that might be 'likewise' or 'bloody inconvenient.' Either way, he was clearly griping even as he stood up and made a barely-there bow over her hand. Hermione didn't blink because she knew Lakshmi wouldn't care.

The brunette turned to the young Auror with bright eyes after that.

"And this is…I'm sorry, I don't remember your first name."

"Idalia Brinley, charmed, I'm sure." she introduced herself with a kind smile. She shook hands enthusiastically with Lakshmi after that, to the bemusement of the latter. They chatted a bit, but Hermione wasn't paying much attention, as she had returned her attention to Moody again. Some chairs were found for them, and soon Hermione and Lakshmi sat down on the other side of the desk Moody was sitting at. Idalia Brinley had pulled her chair over to his side to join in.

"So, why're you here on a Saturday?" Moody asked.

"To be frank, I didn't think I'd see you. At most, I'd ask whoever's here when you're next here or leave a message to meet at another time," Hermione said.

"I don't have to be here. I just 'voluntarily' sign up for a few more extra hours to oversee the greenhorns on a watch shift—it's mostly just waiting for any emergency report that might come at this time."

"'Voluntarily'?" Hermione made air quotes—she could hear them in his voice. Moody sighed, but he didn't have the look of someone who was forced.

"Somebody has to do it. I don't trust the appearance of calm over everything right now either. We have no more attacks yet, sure, but I wouldn't call that a success on our part."

She nodded. "It feels like the calm before the storm."

His sober gaze was heavy with the risk he knew still hung over them. Hermione met his gaze head on, without flinching.

"Exactly." he said.

There was a moment of quietness as Hermione thought of what to say next. In the next moment, Moody wordlessly narrowed his eyes at her. The brunette hadn't lost her ability to decipher his various looks, so she immediately knew what he was wondering about.

"Ah, yes, my purpose for being here. Well, Tom organised this gathering at Hogwarts, The Society—"

"You and Tom," Lakshmi corrected, droll.

"Me and Tom," Hermione repeated with a slight eyeroll, "and like many student societies before us, the custom is to have an adult minder or supervisor that can see what we're up to from time to time and get the other adults to worry less about us. I was wondering if you'd mind being ours? We'd be very happy to have you, Mr. Moody."

"That's very nice of you!"

Junior Auror Brinley sounded so happy about it that one might think she was the one offered the post. There was a small fake cough to her side, and she knew that Lakshmi was holding back yet another untimely chuckle.

"Me? Isn't it usually one of the Hogwarts professors?" Moody asked, "why on earth, would it be me? I wouldn't exactly be able to visit Hogwarts that often… unless you're relying on this, because you don't truly want intensive oversight."

"Not at all. I want you to check in with us from time to time," Hermione replied without missing a beat. "In fact, I'd go looking for you if we need you, no need to worry about us not being in touch."

Moody stared at her again without immediately saying anything, his thick brows furrowed while his hand rubbed his five-o-clock beard. One of the major scars she remembered him having was already there—like that long, raised line at the back of his left hand.

"You haven't answered my question." Moody's tone was brisk.

"I haven't?"

"Why me?"

"Aahh, that." Hermione rubbed her hands together while gathering her thoughts. "If you must know, we need your expertise."

"My expertise? What sort of society is this? A duelling one?"

Lakshmi snorted, but didn't say anything. Her dormmate probably felt vindicated with how Moody's thoughts lined up with her suspicion earlier.

"Not exactly, no. Duelling isn't our focus," Hermione answered, waving it away. "The primary issue is that we need to synchronise two databases. This is where your assistance would be most helpful."

The young Auror behind Moody looked slightly confused at that, and Hermione couldn't blame her for it. Brinley was about to leave to make tea, but Moody shook his head and said that it wasn't necessary for now. The senior Auror simply leaned back on his seat.

"Much apologies, but I still don't see why it has to be me, Lass."

"Come on, Hermione. Tell them about The Search." Lakshmi goaded.

The brunette gave her friend the stink eye. She didn't need to sound so gleeful about it. Moody certainly picked that up.

"What search?"

"The Search." Lakshmi answered after Hermione was busier rearranging her thoughts to immediately answer. "You know, nobody wants to go searching where other people had searched before. Which is why the cross-checking would help."

It was descriptive, but it hadn't clarified much.

Moody slowly shifted his attention back to Hermione, and she could almost see the gears grinding in his head from Lakshmi's words. His voice was deceptively casual.

"Ah, so that's why you'd need to compare with our database."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. We're doing our own search, and we'd like to be efficient at it and not redo the search on any places that has been searched before."

"What are you looking for? Some missing wizards or witches?" Moody asked. It was a reasonable question to ask, as these things go. She paused for a moment.

"Well, actually—" Hermione began,

"It's Grindelwald." Lakshmi cut in.

She thought she heard a surprised squeak from the younger Auror. Moody stared at the two of them with his distinct 'are ye shitting me?' look. Hermione took a deep breath and rushed her answer before Moody said no.

"Not Grindelwald. Look, we know that his precise base of operations is unknown ever since he teamed up with members of the ruling party in Germany. It's making it quite inconvenient for everyone. If we can figure out where that base is—and then forward the information to the Aurors once we figure it out—it can help with everyone's peace of mind in Britain."

The brunette exhaled slowly, willing her heart rate to be a bit less excited about all this.

"That's what the Society's primary focus is on right now. It's mostly paperwork. So far, we're relying on The Free French Mages, the German Exiles…anyone with friends and family in the continent, really. They ask questions in their letter and they update us on what they've found."

Moody was slowly raising his hand.

"The Society members are still here, you know? We're not putting them under undue risk." Hermione said quickly. "It's just eliminating places from being base locations. Not to mention that Hogwarts is one of the safest places in Britain."

"Weren't gonna protest that," Moody said.

Hermione scrunched her nose. His tone was still even and too unreadable to her; it was rather annoying to encounter his poker face.

"I was just thinking that you really dream big, don't ye?" he said instead.

"More like fearless, if you ask me," Lakshmi commented.

"For the last time, we're not forcing anyone to go to the continent." Hermione said. If they want to go on their own, that's a different matter, she didn't say. "It's better than just wearing your nerves out with the waiting. Doing something helps."

"Alright, let's say that I believe in your efforts for now, what have you been up to?"

Hermione grinned. Now this was something she was much more prepared for. She pulled her bag open; with her wand out, she started summoning a few scrolls as she spoke.

"It's great of you to ask that! Now, let me bring some of the meeting brief up, especially on the update front…"

'-

When the two Hogwarts students left, the large office seemed a lot quieter and emptier now than it had been before. Moody slowly raised a hand and rubbed his forehead as he attempted to digest all the things Hermione had said.

"It doesn't sound so bad, once she puts it that way. We do need to find out the exact location, and they're not going anywhere near Europe." Idalia Brinley mused out loud.

Alastor only let out a sigh.

"Brinley, try to see where Jape went off to. Make sure he's not hurt—other than his pride—and get him back here. You're both still on shift, and I can't let him just abandon you to man the emergency floo alone." Moody said, instead of addressing her musings directly. Brinley didn't seem to mind.

She bobbed her head rapidly. "Sure thing."

The junior Auror left the room to do exactly as he suggested. Alastor took the opportunity to place his elbows on the table and drop his face into his hands with a muffled groan. Only the occasional crackle of the fire in the hearth filled the air. How old is Curie? She's not even in seventh year yet.

And she was already fearless enough to go after Grindelwald.

Oh, she didn't say it. Her friend's ribbing made her careful enough to maintain her focus on her little group's core idea of searching for Grindelwald's continental base. But even if she said everyone was doing all of that while staying in Britain, he had a feeling that she had no intention of doing that at all. And that was her, the student who had been a trainee healer.

He dreaded to know what Riddle was thinking.

Moody asked himself; would he want to get involved in this potential disaster? Not for all the scotch in the Director's cabinet.

He could just say no to Curie, thereby keeping himself uninvolved with whatever the younglings are up to now. He's still pretty sure that he could rely on Curie's sense of self-preservation—didn't she hie off from Europe when things start burning, right? Right. He sat up, feeling more optimistic about his decision so far. He could just let her down nicely about this whole idea and—

Moody paused as something just dawned on him.

Wait, there's Riddle. That wizard-shaped whirlpool of bottomless ambition is at the helm of this shindig.

He knocked his forehead in annoyance as he pulled up all he knew about the boy from his memories.

Albus isn't impressed, was actually pretty suspicious of him. Orpheus says he's ambitious to a fault… Oh, wait, I know what he'd be thinking.He's a sodding Slytherin. Know exactly what the bampots in the House were like. He'd be wanting tae fuck off to Europe hisself if no one's watchin', eh? And Hermione'd fallow closely because she wants to be keeping him safe as if he won't just shiv the next shady bloke shimmying close.

He didn't bother holding back his groan this time.

Merlin save me from fools and lovers.

'-

Hermione was out of Hogwarts today.

It was unusual for her to leave when it wasn't Hogsmeade weekend, but the note he received from her said that she had to go buy presents with Lakshmi. Tom considered that it was probably her dormmate's persuasion that had allowed Hermione to relax a little and not be such a stickler for the rules. Either way, he can benefit from this, because there were some things that he preferred to do when she wasn't around.

They were still treading on eggshells last week, tentatively trying to find each other's boundaries of comfort once more while frequently returning to known common ground with relief between the renegotiations. A lot of their essays certainly got done quickly as they mostly discussed and argued about various topics and ideas related to their classes during this time. As for what he was up to now…he can always tell her about it once he was done, but there was always the chance that she'd find him in the middle of things and misunderstand. Or, he might fail to explain it properly to her and trigger yet another conflagration.

A part of him twitched inwardly at the possibility. That was definitely not ideal.

Tom walked up the grand stairs next to the Hogwarts' Library doors, sending the occasional polite nod whenever he saw a student he knew from a distance and a simple greeting with a slight smile if it was a fellow prefect. The Slytherins usually saw him first and greeted first, and he replied in kind. Once he passed the groups of people flowing in the direction of the library, the corridors were sparser. Another story up and they were practically empty.

It was just how he preferred them.

Unlike the people, the garlands of evergreen above the walls continued their spread, spiralling upwards and accompanying him on his rise. The scent of pine never quite leaving the hallways. He was also probably just distracting himself. Slowing down and taking his time to stare at the swathes of intertwined garlands of green meant that he still hadn't arrived at his destination.

That thought annoyed him.

Tom sped up his steps and firmly knocked on the door.

He waited. He clasped his hands together to hold back the infernal itch to fidget and stood tall. Seconds ticked by. Time passed like a drunkard, crawling on its belly, and he wished he could kick it ahead so it would get a move on. His index finger tapped against his knuckle before he forcibly stopped it.

The door opened ((finally (thank fucking god)).

"Good afternoon, Professor. I would like to formalise a debt."

'-

Albus Dumbledore stared at the student standing in his doorway, at first wondering whether he was imagining things. He rubbed his slightly red eyes. Then, Tom Riddle opened his mouth.

"Good afternoon, Professor. I would like to formalise a debt."

Well, it was his ears that he's doubting right now. He supposed that Tom Riddle saying seemingly absurd things should be expected at this point.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Riddle." Albus managed to reply. "I suppose you'd want to come in?"

"Please, Professor."

"Alright. You know where the couch is."

The Transfigurations Professor moved to make way, ambling vaguely in the direction of the kitchen cupboard as he tried to remember the day. It was Saturday (why was Riddle looking for him on a Saturday?) He'd only been awake for half an hour, half wondering what made him agree to accompany Orpheus drinking into the night. He'd definitely enjoyed the company, but he wasn't usually that careless with how much he drank. If he hadn't taken the potion for hangover cure earlier and a bowl of soup kindly delivered by Catkins, he wouldn't have wanted to drag himself out of bed yet.

He envied the Ravenclaw Head of House somewhat—his students and other professors are aware enough of his different sleeping schedule that they don't try to contact him before three in the afternoon.

Albus put the kettle on. Inwardly, he congratulated himself at successfully walking normally to his armchair.

"Alright, I think I misheard you at the door. You were saying something about…debt?"

"I did."

The boy barely blinked—his intense gaze would be discomfiting for a lot of people.

Of course he did, a part of Albus grumbled. He was about to push his spectacles up his nose when he realised that he hadn't even put them on. He let out a slow sigh instead.

"Alright, what brought this on?"

Tom actually glanced down for a while, gathering his words before looking up again.

"Because you do. You owe Hermione a debt."

Albus wondered if he should tell the teenager that staring like that was a tad too snakelike and would scare most people, or if that comment was a little discriminatory towards Slytherin. He had no idea. He probably needed to get his strong mug of tea first.

"I did?"

"You certainly did." Riddle almost snapped, but didn't. Merely…politely threatening.

"When did I…?"

"Look, Professor, it's only been a month. You couldn't have forgotten already."

Albus could feel that unexpected flare of magic around Riddle before he tamped it down with effort. His mind has not quite grasped why he had a spitting snake right in his sitting room, and what he was so obviously missing that Riddle didn't even hide why he was visibly upset, in front of Gryffindor's Head of House. He certainly didn't miss a Slytherin faux pas that large, even as he tried to recollect why.

Fortunately for them both, the kettle whistled just then.

If it had been any other student, Albus would've successfully charmed them into coming back at another time. Since it was Riddle, he didn't even bother.

"Look, Tom, I've only woken up half an hour ago with a rather immense headache. The hangover potion took care of most of the problems I had, but it's not perfect. If you'll let me make us a pot of tea thick enough to float a spoon, maybe I can be alive enough by then to talk with you, how about that?" Albus' words were careful and unhurried.

Tom stared at him in disbelief even as Albus decided to stand and prioritise the kettle right now. When he returned to the table bearing refreshments with his gigantic pot in tow, the prefect had dropped his face in his hands.

"I can't believe you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk. I had just been asleep, mostly, with a terrible headache." Albus replied with aplomb and the brazenness of a wizard who knew that Hogwarts had no claim on him outside school days. He was not a new professor too kind for their own good to spend all their time on work, no thank you.

"Besides, this isn't school hours either, Mr. Riddle. 'Tis the weekend."

He settled in with his tea, while Tom didn't even bother to raise his head for a while. It was mildly amusing to see the Slytherin stare at him with not loathing or fear, but disbelief and disappointment.

"Alright, debt. You were referring to an event around a month ago. That would be…Hermione's internment in St. Mungo's, wasn't it?" he thought out loud.

"Which was your fault." Riddle's words were sharp and to the point.

"Why?" Albus raised his hand when he started to feel that tumultuous swirl of magical currents around him. "I'm not at my best right now, so please just bear with me and let's be straightforward for once, shall we?"

The prefect was staring at him as if he was a dullard and an utter knob, and was probably penning down a long Shakespearean insult in his head on top of that. Albus wouldn't stop him from the pleasure of cursing him some more if he wanted to. The bizarreness of the situation struck him with a strange sort of humour; at what point did Riddle decide to truly dispense with the formalities with him? The recalcitrant teenage wizard on his couch seemed like someone else, instead of Slytherin's prized prefect and strongest contender for the Head Boy position from his year.

The dark-haired youth took a deep breath and seemed to have decided to forbear him for now.

"I did inform you of her kidnapping immediately, the moment it happened. Your delay took an hour. It costed her ten hours, based on the inside information I had of the type of chamber she was imprisoned in. The time was critical."

He could practically see Tom's jaw muscles flexing as he tensed for a moment, a bow drawn taut, straining to let loose a volley of violence.

"Ah." The professor nodded. He could see what Tom was saying.

"Now that comprehension has finally dawned in the eternal night of your viscous mind, I would like to request a formal acknowledgement of your debt. To Hermione."

He finally picked up the mug of tea that Albus had poured for him, and drank it the way Alastor would finish a glass of scotch after a particularly trying day. In a single quick swallow, sans sugar.

The prefect didn't even blink at the bitterness.

"Wouldn't that need Hermione to be here? It would be my debt to her, wouldn't it?" Albus idly asked.

Tom scoffed. "Oh, she'd insist that it was no need. That it was an honest mistake. That's what she told you when you came to apologise when she was in the infirmary, wasn't it? I, however, beg to differ."

Albus furrowed his brows slightly as he fell into his memories of that day. The infirmary had been deserted when he visited Hermione—she'd just been transferred from St. Mungo's. He didn't even see Riddle there, though he supposed the boy could've asked her about the visit later. Steam curled up slowly from both of their mugs—Albus' mug was a bright purple one with white dots, Tom had a sapling green one with yellow ducks on them.

"You owe her for that endangerment." he insisted.

The prefect stared him down, almost challenging him to disagree. Albus merely gestured for him to continue, observing him. If he was less awake, he'd wonder if he was still dreaming. The younger wizard's voice had an unsettlingly raw edge to it. A Gryffindor-ish sort of anger he'd never seen from Tom before, to accompany a similar sort of bluntness.

A slight breeze moved through the room. Something creaked in the background that they both ignored—Hogwarts was an old castle; random creaks and whistles weren't an unusual sound.

"And if she insists that it's unnecessary for now, then I'll be the one holding the debt for her. If she's under any other threats in the future, one that I feel you can do something about, I would call upon it." Tom concluded.

"You do realise that holding a threatening posture isn't really helping a request for a favour?" Albus asked, idly. "Particularly when you're speaking to a professor?"

"It's not a favour, I'm checking on a debt."

His reply was firm and he was undaunted.

"You know that I'll check to make sure that the favour was indeed for Hermione, don't you?"

Tom shrugged. "By all means, do so—as long as it won't risk her life again."

As debts of favours go, it was a rather reasonable one and for a good cause. Albus didn't mind it at all; it barely felt like an imposition to him, though he wouldn't say that to Mr. Riddle. The Slytherin wizard was the type to take a mile if he had an inch.

"Are you both mostly done here?" Another voice drawled from the side.

Albus turned, as did Riddle.

Leaning against the door with a raised eyebrow was a wizard who hadn't even taken off his broad-brimmed hat. The Transfigurations Professor could recognise that face that was near-impossible to keep clean shaven anywhere. He loomed at the doorway with all the belligerence of a tall, grumpy honey badger.

"Alastor? When did you get there?"

"Not that long—I'd have knocked if the door didn't swing open on its own." The Auror stepped in and closed the door behind him with a firm click. "I did push the door a bit further earlier. Seems like you're both too deep in the conversation to notice, though."

Well, he or Tom had probably failed to close it properly. Tom's expression was a little stiff. That was probably the closest thing to awkwardness that the Slytherin prefect let himself feel.

Alastor strode with ease, as if they had always been waiting for him, his coat flaring. He sat at the other side of the couch from Tom, also across the table from Albus, before taking his hat off and dumping it on the armchair nearest to him. The professor simply summoned another mug from the kitchen for him; the black one with pink frolicking sheep would do, he mused.

"Funny seeing you in Hogwarts."

"Hermione called in a favour, something about having oversight for a student society or the like. I'm sure it's not going to be too difficult." Alastor answered.

Albus could see the tension go out of Tom's shoulders a little. The Auror moved his mug closer to the pot and Albus poured him tea with a wave of his hand—he had a bit more trust with his magical fine control now that he felt more awake.

When Alastor spoke again, his voice was a little too relaxed.

"So, what was this debt you owed Curie about?"

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