Once upon a time, back when times are hard,
People get by just wishing upon a star.
Makes you wish one would fall on your head,
But sometimes what came from above-
Is not what you expect.
Growing up, Yril Isobel Karlstein had always been a private person. It was because of this personal trait that she expected the same from others. Although she wouldn't pass up an open ear to any rumor or story that passed her by, she would never pry for personal information the concerned party wasn't willing to divulge. This, paired with her strong sense of professionalism, had granted her an amiable, and mutually-respectable relationship with her employer. Truly, the thought of working for someone nearly two decades younger than her was a bit disconcerting, but Tom Riddle's degree of business acumen, meritocratic policies, and easily-given acknowledgement of talented individuals quashed any apprehension she had on the matter. After all, it was his snap recognition of her skills behind the desk the reason she was able to enjoy an employment she had never even dreamed of. Her age had never once been a concern either.
So when the first wave of rumors began to circulate amongst her colleagues and subordinates that her boss has a wife and child, she chose to remain a bystander and quell the most ludicrous speculations. Some of them were amusing, honestly. Some said the child was born out of wedlock and recently discovered after years apart, others believed the woman was a jilted lover who strongly refused to give him his paternal rights that it went on for years, the most romantics claimed they were lovers since they were young but some great social or familial-rooted obstacle kept them apart until he proved himself a worthy man, hence the purpose of starting the company, and there were also those who refused to believe that the woman and son existed in the first place.
She supposed she couldn't blame them. Lord Voldemort had always set himself apart from the common crowd even during the times he'd integrate himself with them. There had only been a handful of times Lord Voldemort graced them with his presence during social gatherings and events. He always came alone or not at all. Even during the early years of Midgardsormr's establishment, there were no rumors of him ever having a lover or even favoring someone beyond the confines of business and platonic social etiquette. Mostly because the cocktail of awe, fear, and respect was still fresh in everyone's bones to even dare speak against him.
It surprised her, for sure, and it certainly became a point of discussion between herself and her husband. So if someone were to ask her two galleons about the matter, she would just reply that her lord's personal life was none of her business.
"Come now Yril. Aren't you the least bit curious?" Dolohov asked her one day while she was waiting for Ser Lestrange's report. They were standing on one of the decks overlooking the training of Grandarks- the island's police and military force.
"I would think someone who claimed high esteem towards our lord is more prudent to such minstrel's fancies," Yril snorted with a raised nose.
"I am respectful!" the young Russian ruffian countered, "It is because I look up to him that I became curious. After all, if the rumors were true, then it's only a matter of time before he brings them to the island, right? How are we supposed to treat them? Are we expected to give them the next highest honors as the lady and young lord? But what if their relationships are complicated?"
Truthfully, Yril had wondered that too. Should that day do arrive, she was expected to be at the forefront of the welcoming party, wasn't she?
"I am certain Lord Voldemort will give his due instructions. Regardless how simple or complicated their relationships are, he will surely be concerned as it would indirectly reflect upon his person." And that is something everyone knew he would not just stand by.
Antonin hummed thoughtfully as he leaned his forearms on the railing. His wand tapped at his temple. "Then let's say the lord's relationship with this rumored family of his is not as complex as some rumors say. Why did you think he never brought them here to the island? The island's been stable for the last five years. Surely, he'd want to show that off to them, right?"
Yril focused her eyes on him this time, "How boggling. Someone of your personality is still curious about this."
He shrugged, "Believe me that my curiosity surprised me as well, but think of it as this, Mrs. Karlstein, what if one day the image you thought you knew and built up about someone, revealed a piece about themselves out of nowhere that is completely different from the pieces you knew before. Wouldn't you want to question where that came from?"
"As I've said, it is none of our business. Even Lord Voldemort has the right to his privacy. If the rumors are true, is it really a surprise that he has a wife and child? It's to be expected for someone his age anyway."
"Yes but you also know that the Dark Lord doesn't care for trivialities. One of the laws he made for the island does not exempt minors from punishment for disobeying. I'm not sure what he's like in the office, but out in the field and training areas, he's always strict and has high expectations. He's a good teacher but you can tell there's a line that shouldn't be crossed. It makes me wonder how is he any different towards the people that are supposed to be closest to him."
The young man trailed off at that, and for a single instance, her uptight persona cracked at the unconscious show of vulnerability. Dolohov's admiration towards the Dark Lord was no secret. This moment only confirmed that he saw the man as a figure more than just a mentor.
She sighed, "Nothing we can do but speculate as much as we want. Regardless of the nuances should it be the truth, I'm sure you can agree that he will have a good reason."
"But what kind of good reason could it be?"
"If I may be bold, it will mostly likely be something to shield them from unwanted eyes."
He perked up at that, "Unwanted eyes… are you implying… enemies? But who would dare cross someone as powerful as Lord Voldemort? They must be looking for death!"
"You came to the island as part of the second round of recruits for Grandarks, weren't you?"
"I volunteered," he said proudly. The independence and new life promised to him in exchange of his magick's loyalty was a small price to pay when the Dark Lord himself found him lost at the edges of the Soviet's territory.
"Then you may not know, but Skyborne Crater was a lawless place. You could say it was a center for chaos that only the most ruthless and cutthroat rarities in the world could stomach to live in. I've never stepped foot on it myself but I've heard enough from my father to know that this is the very last place in the living world you would want to be in. It wasn't until Lord Voldemort swept in and declared this island as his own did things finally change," Dolohov's eyes sparkled at that, "He who cleansed the murky waters and brought order in this chaotic hell on earth, with his shadows and unapologetic use of dark magic to, ironically, conquer the darkness that plagued this land and its inhabitants, to allow the sun to pierce through the clouds once more, had declared himself the lord of this land and succeeded with no further contest. Hence why we also call him the Dark Lord.
"Many fell and many also bent the knee, but despite this overwhelming victory, do you truly believe those who lived, who knew and were not present during his campaign, would not hold any ill will towards his audacity? You'd be surprised how many foolish mice could believe they could steal the fangs of a sleeping serpent."
The young wizard's eyes were wide at her in realization. It made sense after all. A powerful individual is not exempted from having enemies. In fact, it should be expected of them.
Lord Voldemort's victory was overwhelming, but a newly purged land would still have fresh wounds. Only a sensible man would not allow his family to step under a roof without being completely certain not a drop of rain will leak through. Yril's husband strongly agreed with the sentiment.
Perhaps in a bid to lighten the mood, Dolohov's lips quirked up at her in a smirk, "Do you really think he's secretly the knightly type?"
"Certainly not the type in shining armor," she snorted again and the young man howled in laughter.
Of course, all of that speculation ended the same way it began. Abruptly, one day out of the blue.
Yril had been working when the eyes of the metallic serpent decorating her built-in inkwell holder glowed a bright, emerald green.
(Personally, she preferred the penguin variety but as an employee, she couldn't begrudge her employer's blatant serpent favoritism. Not to mention the greater species that migrated the island's waters)
She stood abruptly from her seat; eyes widened in surprise. Those eyes meant her boss had returned and was calling for her immediate summon. It was not unheard of for Lord Voldemort to be absent from the company headquarters by long stretches of time. He never had to mention where he disappears to, but would always inform his staff the dates when he'd be gone and return. When it came to work, any paperwork that needed his attention would be sent to him magically from the special compartment beside her desk (no one was allowed to enter his office in his absence), and it would also magically reappear back at her desk within hours or the following day after sending them. If an emergency came up, he would appear from his office instantly after one notice.
Normally, Yril wouldn't be surprised at his summons, but it certainly bewildered her how abrupt his return was when there wasn't even an emergency. Never would she have thought of the shock that awaited her when she finally opened the double doors.
"Enough of the theatrics, Yril. Alduin, this is Yril Karlstein, my secretary, and Yril, this is my son."
"Pleased to meet you, My lady Karlstein."
In the turbulence of her shocked mind, only two words stood out to her coherently.
He's real.
There wasn't even any room for doubt that the boy, Young Lord Alduin, was the Dark Lord's son. They look so much alike that it made her wonder if her boss also smiled so sweetly during his youth just like his son. But that thought only sent a shiver up her spine.
The spark of curiosity gave way to a different flame when the Dark Lord gave her a list of instructions. Though it looked more like a note.
Have the Velvet Room prepared for a singular guest. There is no specific time of arrival but make sure you are prepared to greet them when they arrive.
Your task is to keep them entertained here until I return. Ensure they are comfortable and I grant you permission to answer all of their questions.
Most importantly, prepare a vase of roses, the reddest you can find.
To prepare the Velvet Room, the room designated only for the company's VVIPs, was one thing, but to tell her to entertain this guest to the point she was obliged to answer all of their questions was another. Yril herself was rarely allowed in the room and whenever she was, she was strictly unallowed to speak. But most baffling of all…
"…roses?" she wondered aloud as she sent an owl to all of the island's flower shops.
There was only one flower she knew her employer was fond of and it certainly wasn't red roses. Not even the president of the International Confederation of Wizards was given this much of a grand reception when they visited.
She had finally met the child… which meant only one thing…
Yril's heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she finally opened the Velvet Room to find a witch of some years younger than her, with a head full of wild brown curls, standing tall and dignified with tense shoulders holding up a single rose to her nose from the vase Yril had placed in the center of the room. She did not need to look at the knife the Dark Lord used as a portkey to know who was standing before her.
"Greetings my lady," she said with a proper curtsy.
"Hullo," brown eyes squinted at her. If Yril looked closely, she would see a burst of stars within their depths, "You look familiar… do you perhaps know an old sailor named Proid? Julius Proid?"
The older woman blinked in surprise, "Yes my lady, he is my father."
"I thought so! You resemble him a lot. My family and I were part of his last voyage before his retirement."
'Her and her family?' That meant her son and husband as well, right? Or did she mean only her side of the family? Her father's last voyage was three years ago. Surely her father would've mentioned it to her if the Dark Lord's wife and her family were in his guest list.
They exchanged pleasantries, and Yril was quick to conclude that the lady before her was well-practiced in pureblood etiquette. Being a pureblood herself, she would know.
It also thrilled her to learn her name was Hermione Jean Granger-Riddle. To say that she was surprised to know the Dark Lord had combined his last name with another was a gross understatement. It was known that combining last names was a significant declaration in the wizarding world, and it only painted a starker picture of the type of woman before her.
The Dark Lord's wife was kind and courteous. She spoke softly and kindly but clearly, with nary a hint of obnoxious attitude or sense of superiority. She also asked basic questions Yril had already anticipated. Where was she? What is the name of the island? What is her position and her duties to the company? What are the goals of Midgardsormr? How long has it been established?
She figured it to be some sort of test. Lord Voldemort also liked to ask questions to test another person's competency.
Unfortunately, Yril failed to sense the shock and growing disbelief from the Dark Lord's wife for each of her seemingly innocent revelations.
A moment of silence passed between them and Yril almost wrung her wrists in nervousness at the weighted look on the younger woman's face. Had she said something wrong?
"You know, Yril, it's my first time being here. I suppose it wouldn't be too much to ask if you show me around, right?"
"I'm sorry, my lady, but as I've said, the Dark Lord had ordered me to-"
"Keep me entertained here, is that correct?"
The older woman frowned, "Yes."
"Were those his exact words?"
"Yes…" the sweat on the nape of her neck felt cold.
"Then 'here' could also mean not limiting me here in the Velvet Room, correct? I believe his instructions were to 'entertain' me. Well, I would like to be entertained 'here' on this island, if you please, Yril."
It was such a blatant disregard and manipulation of her employer's words that the audacity alone made Yril impressed. Perhaps it was the fact that going against the Dark Lord was completely unheard of that this act came such a shock to her. Yril knew Lord Voldemort wouldn't be pleased, and her loyalties screamed for her to not indulge on his wife's request. If the my lady had been a regular rich man's wife, she would not have to suffer through this conundrum. However…
Wasn't this woman, Hermione, the very woman who captured her lord's heart to be named as his wife? Was she not the mother of his heir? Whom he shared his last name with? The implications alone told her their bond went beyond regular husband and wife. The stars behind her eyes, while mesmerizing, beheld a power Yril instinctually felt she shouldn't cross.
…
Well, the Dark Lord did task her to entertain his wife. If he had wanted to keep her in the Velvet Room, he could've just said so. Clearly, pleasing her took a greater precedence. The red roses spoke for itself.
"Y-Yes, as you wish, my lady."
The younger woman smiled at her appreciatively, and it was in that smile where Yril saw the resemblance between the young lord and his mother.
"Don't fret, Mrs. Karlstein, I swear I will be responsible for you."
.
Located on an island hidden in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Skyborne Crater had long since been a hub for traveling wizards and witches. Its secluded and remote area made it perfect for people with shady backgrounds to hide in and conduct their businesses. It was a lawless place where magical power and wealth were the only things people acknowledged.
That was until a wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort decided to claim the island as his own. With the support of his subordinates, he swept the island effortlessly with his sheer power. He destroyed every opposition he met, and those who surrendered and swore fealty to him answered to his every beck and call.
With no one to oppose and no existing power to refute his claim over the free land, he quickly established himself as the island's absolute authority.
A modern-day lord.
"The makeshift town that used to be compared to the worst slums, had been renovated and improved in reflection to the success of Miðgarðsormr," Yril explained as they continued on their walk, "Everything you see, my lady, from the cobblestones we are walking on to the company's headquarters, was thanks in part to the efforts of the Dark Lord and Sers."
"Sers?" Hermione inquired over her shoulder.
"The subordinates closest to the lord. Sers Rosier, Lestrange, Mulciber, Nott, Malfoy, and Avery."
'To refer to the Knights of Walpurgis as Sers… how fitting,' she hummed in acknowledgement. "How many ships does he have?"
"Initially, the lord only had seven ships, but now he has twenty-one of them."
"I see, and your father's ship is among them as well, am I right?" Hermione stopped to stare at the older woman. A daughter of an old sailor became the secretary of a company whose primary business dealt with 'ghost ships'… it wasn't difficult to connect those two together.
Yril took a moment to answer, surprised at the brunette's accurate assumption, "Yes, my lady. Our family ship, Lady de Lune, was one of those first seven ships Lord Voldemort had acquired for the start of this business."
Hermione's eyebrows couldn't help but draw together slightly when she couldn't sense any regret nor bitterness in the woman's tone, "And is that alright with you? During my trip in your father's last voyage, he seemed to be a very proud sailor. He also mentioned that the ship had even belonged to his grandfather. Wouldn't you want to keep such an heirloom in your family?"
"It is as the lady said. Had things been different, I would've kept the ship and passed it on to my children. Even if no one else is interested in being a sailor. But the lady must also be aware of how the muggle world wars had greatly affected the wizarding global trade, yes? Not just us, but everyone who owned ghostships had a difficult time. When Lord Voldemort approached my father and I, he offered to take care of the ship and uphold its main purpose as a trading vessel in exchange of its ownership. I have no talent in traversing the seas, my lady. Even though my father was willing to give the ship to me, I would have no way of knowing how to sail it.
"Many would think we sold the vessel for our own gain, but to me, especially to my father, we would rather see Lady de Lune continue to proudly circle the world in more voyages than to let it rot in a glass bottle," for the first time, the older woman's lips curled up into a small fond smile, "Besides, it is not as if we would not be able to see our family ship anymore. Even though it was now renamed as the Mucalinda, the Dark Lord was magnanimous to allow my father to captain the ship and train other wizards until he himself deemed his retirement. He also offered me and my husband better jobs than our last."
The word 'magnanimous' being genuinely used in reference to Lord Voldemort felt so foreign to her, she felt a few pinpricks at the back of her neck. Too bad she couldn't confirm the other witch's short history lesson for now. In fact, she had been genuinely surprised to learn that she was actually on an island. Still, it didn't seem that Yril had said anything false so far.
Brown eyes continued to survey the streets and buildings. She would be lying if she said the surroundings weren't beautiful. The roads were obviously maintained and there wasn't a single trash in sight. Even the buildings have their own unique architecture, especially as they neared the third level.
However, it was exactly this beautiful, peaceful atmosphere, that Hermione's mind continued to fail to comprehend.
"There are children here…" Hermione said aloud as they passed by a group of children close to her son's age, laughing as they chased each other.
"Majority of the island's residents work for Miðgarðsormr, my lady. The Dark Lord permitted them to set up their homes here so long as they do their job diligently and not cause trouble."
"Does that mean they do not own their own property? And I noticed there are children of different ages as well. Do they not go to school? You mentioned earlier that the only way in and out of the island is through the ships," she couldn't help ask for details. The only exception to her last statement was via portkey, like the pocketknife he gave her, but they would have to be specially made by Voldemort.
"Of course they do, my lady. Lord Voldemort merely set up the standards since he only allowed occupancy within the crater. Though I apologize that I cannot give you the details since I lack knowledge on that part myself, but if you'll let me, I'm sure we can have Ser Mulciber explain it to you, as he was the one in charge of the residences when the island was being reformed."
"That's a relief. Thank you Yril, but there's no need to trouble yourself that far."
"It is no trouble at all, my lady. As for the children, when classes come near, they would ride the ships that would bring them to the nearest country of their chosen school. The ships would also pick them up during vacations and breaks back to the island. Once they arrive on land, transport services exclusive to students who live in Skyborne are given for free to deliver them to their schools. Or to the school's transport hub like Hogwarts' Platform 9 ¾. This is all part of the policy the Dark Lord created when the island's population started to increase and more families began to move in. He is especially concerned with magical education," she answered proudly. "The students are also given very generous allowances at the start of the new school year."
"How… generous."
Indeed. It was truly… unbelievable.
"Yril, what is that?" Hermione pointed at a structure at the end of the second level. Its circular form reminded her of a smaller version of the coliseum in Rome.
"That is the Solphages Pitch, my lady. It serves as a base and training area for the Grandarks- Ah! Grandark is what we call the police force of the island. They also guard the ships during their voyages and police the ports under Miðgarðsormr."
"Take me there."
.
'Lord Voldemort… owns Miðgarðsormr? The Dark Lord is a businessman?!'
Suddenly, a ridiculous mental image entered her mind of a snake-faced Voldemort. Instead of him in a war room discussing plans to take over the wizarding world, he was in a conference hall talking about imports, tariffs, and freight rates.
In her mind palace, she briefly wondered how the boys would react. Ron would probably bowl over as he laughed himself to tears while Harry would probably be so horrified and -shocked speechless with disbelief, his own glasses would fall askew over his nose.
She was probably sporting a funny expression herself.
'No… no, this can't be right,' she argued mentally. Lord Voldemort was a man who only cared about power. There wasn't any information about him dabbling with any sort of legitimate business, let alone actually owning one. Why should he? When he practically had all the vaults of his followers in his very pockets?
Hermione had conceded that there were some things that changed in this new past due to her and her son's interference. She had even yet to solve the mystery of how Tom still looked disgustingly handsome at this point in time. But this?
No. Someone like Voldemort… there's just no way. She understood his desire to rule, but what benefit would it bring him by making a trading company? Apart from it being a magical equivalent to the muggles', what did it have anything that would interest him?
Not to mention his policy with the students of Skyborne. It was… actually a good one. Something she would definitely support with her own galleons. But it was precisely because of the well-intentioned nature of that policy that had her feeling conflicted…
Then there was the older witch, Yril. She doesn't seem like someone that would fall into Voldemort's crowd. Nor did her actions betrayed nothing of anything similar to manipulation nor coercion.
...
For the first time, Hermione completely questioned the identity of the man before her.
"Fight me."
Tom's eyes blinked ever so slowly at her declaration, "Now?"
"Yes. Right here, right now," she looked at him oddly. Considering how their last fight ended, she assumed he would be jumping at this opportunity.
Panic had jumped her bones when she arrived on time to see a ball made of earth knock her son down. Her strides were long and quick, with Yril hot on her heels. Halfway down the rows of seats, she had every intention to just jump down into the ring when she saw, clear as day, how Alduin turned around to face the hail of rushing stones. His dirt-smudged face was aglow with confidence and courage.
Tom's eyes swept at her form from top to bottom. If he was amused, she couldn't tell for sure.
"Why?"
"Well why not?" she placed her hands on her hips.
"Humor me."
Because her competitive nature refused to leave things at a stalemate. Because their marriage contract disallowed them to hurt one another, unless both parties consent to the risks of pain and affliction from the other during the event they were to participate in. Because it would be the perfect excuse to hit him. But also…
"The previous times we dueled, regardless of reasons, were left inconclusive… because I fled," she took a deep breath, "I have no intention of running away this time. Besides, this place suits a duel better than some dark alley, don't you think?"
His dark eyes seemed to brighten at her words.
"I suppose… we do have a score to settle," he took out his wand and tapped it rhythmically on his palm, "Any conditions?"
"Nothing irreversible or anything that can cause damage that can't be cured," she recited, and his eyes seemed to dull… in boredom. Her teeth bit her lower lip before adding, "And… no shield charms allowed."
"Oh?" Tom's eyes shone once more and his eyebrows even raised ever so slightly in interest.
A small voice in her head said that this suited him better.
"We can still use counter-spells and other magicks to protect ourselves, but nothing that has the primary function of shielding against other spells."
"Very well. Then the winner is whomever can make the other person yield first, or whomever stays standing in one minute."
"Five minutes."
"Two and a half."
"Three."
"Done," he stopped tapping his wand and on cue, a refreshed Alduin and the rest made their way back to them in the field.
Tom looked over his shoulder and addressed in a clear, loud voice, "Rosier will be the one to facilitate the duel."
"Duel?" the other man looked surprised as he looked between them, "You mean… between the two of you?"
While her husband just gave him a deadpan look, Hermione's gaze fell on Alduin whose expression instantly twisted in worry.
"Yes," she confirmed before anyone else could speak, and turned to her husband, "We have a score that needs to be settled and it's a duel a bit overdue."
He held her eyes for a moment before adding for the others. He shrugged, "Best to blow off some steam."
Misplaced understanding for something more marital had them nodding in sympathy. Only Alduin and Rosier was the only one not wholly convinced but a silent message from both his parents made him comply, albeit reluctantly and worriedly.
After informing Rosier of the stipulations of their duel, Tom and Hermione stood at their respective ends (ten paces away from the other), while Rosier was left to the side of the pitch to facilitate, and the rest of the party moved up to the upper decks for their safety.
As per the etiquette in magic duels, Rosier recited to both parties and their audience the conditions of their duel and the limitations they set upon it, "Now, on my signal!"
The tension thickened considerably.
"Wands at the ready!"
Black and brown focused on each other as they held their wands at their sides.
"Begin!"
The rest of the world ceased to exist except for the two of them.
Their duel began with their wands slashing across the air. Wind that can literally cut like a blade sailed towards the other in unison and met with a loud swoosh of gust. Neither witch nor wizard waited for the two spells to cancel out as they were already moving to conjure their next attacks.
With their knowledge of each other's dueling prowess, neither bothered to cast with anything basic nor easy spells.
Hermione made a big circle at a clockwise direction and directed red flames turned blue like a flamethrower. In response, Tom also wounded his arm in a big circle, this time in a counter-clockwise direction, and water in the form of a serpent met her fire head on. The collision engulfed the area in white steam as the opposing elements clashed with a loud hiss.
In the cover of thick steam, Tom motioned for a Traho spell with his free hand. The spell used to instantly draw or pull an object to the caster, latched onto the witch's clothes and she instantly zoomed across the field towards his direction right into the cloud.
The wizard noted how her dash through the steam reddened her skin with a lovely shade before he quickly moved his head to the side, to dodge her wand picoseconds away from hexing his face. Tom returned in kind by casting a strong stinging hex at her foot. Hermione hissed in annoyance, more at the fact he landed the first hit than the stinging sensation itself. He had assumed the hex was enough to imbalance her for him to grab for her wand arm, but she used that momentum to pivot away from the wizard.
Using the principle of Lyneve's Law of Magical Conversion that allowed spells to be stored in inanimate objects until they were released for a single use, Hermione casted Seismetico on her own boots. When she stomped, the entire pitch shook and the ground itself rippled like a disturbed pond.
Unfortunately, Tom was just a tad bit faster in using the disorientation to right himself up. His wand whipped in complex motions and the bulging ripples on the ground stopped, turned into sharp spikes, and rushed back towards Hermione's direction. Quickly, she shot her wand at her feet and a square section lifted her high off the ground. When the spikes collided with her column, they broke into pieces and scattered across the field as if a grenade had just been detonated.
Hermione had just jumped in time before the column broke and was ready to cast her next spell when she felt herself freeze. Literally.
She couldn't even blink to comprehend the fact that her body was suspended in mid-air as if time had stopped. Frozen like a photograph of a bird caught mid-landing. There was an odd sensation of an invisible force touching every limb of her body, and even her clothes froze mid-flutter. It felt completely different from the heavy pressure of an Impediment Jinx.
Though, if there was any part of her at all that could still move, it was her eyes, and those brown pools flecked with golden stars raced through every inch of her visual cone.
If she could also move her eyebrows, they would've shot up to her hairline.
On the ground was a spiderweb made of shadows. Against the dull earth that made up the pitch's grounds, it appeared as if someone had traced web patterns using the shadows themselves. And amidst those tangles she found her own trapped within. When she looked up, as far as her eyes could go, she could see the source of those shadows coming out from beneath Tom's shoes.
While fundamentally part of Nature Magick, which included fire, lightning, water, air, etc., dark and light magic required a unique and very advanced academic understanding. When Hermione had studied them, she found out that the key was learning muggle physics.
It was at that moment of realization when Hermione's heart hammered to something more than adrenaline.
Fortunately, while his spell froze her movements, it did not prevent her from casting a spell wandlessly and non-verbally. She began by casting an Obscuro over herself. It was a simple spell that produced a magical blindfold across the target's eyes. While it can easily be removed, it served its intended effect to completely shield her vision because she immediately followed that spell by a powerful Lumos Maxima. Blinding light lit up from the tip of her wand like an explosion. So bright that everyone present had to shield their eyes and the light could be seen outside the pitch.
It effectively rid the shadows that tied her down.
While it took a moment for everyone to recover on their own, the delay gave just enough distraction for Hermione to cast her next spell.
Fire seared within her bones unlike anything she had felt before when faced with this man before her. The internal flame burned just as hot and passionate, yet fueled by something much, much different. Akin to a blacksmith restarting their forge, she felt herself wanting to create a new masterpiece.
If her eyes had not been closed in concentration, Hermione would've seen how Tom's eyebrows raised in surprise for what she had done next.
She stood in a Knight's position. Her back was straight and her ankles were closed together. She held her wand in both hands right up to her chest as if in prayer. All the while particles of light were gathering at the tip as if she was casting another lumos, but instead of bursting forth once more with the intensity of an exploding star, light shot up and solidified in the form of a blade.
Using her own wand as a medium, Hermione made a sword made of light.
With a loud cry, she charged at Tom, intending to stab his shoulder…
…only to be parried by Tom's own blade.
Except his was smaller. Wisps of shadow-like tattered cloth blew around his arm from where he held his wand. It was surrounded by a blanket of darkness with a slightly curved body like a serpent's fang.
A dagger made of solidified shadow.
CLANG! Came the sound like steel against actual steel when they charged at each other.
"How did you know this spell?" she asked, eyes wide and breathless.
"Espada," Tom practically purred. She could only see herself reflected in his dark eyes, "I had an old friend teach it to me. How did you know this spell?"
"I spent a lot of time in Spain," she answered, her lips curled up into a smug smile.
A rumble audibly came from his throat, deep and oh so masculine, before he twisted his wrist to dislodge their lock. He kept his free hand out for balance as he made a slashing motion aimed at her stomach.
Hermione disappeared without the slightest sound of a pop, and reappeared mid-swing at Tom's right.
Then, he too, disappeared, only to reappear above her with his dagger aiming straight down at her. Knowing that she couldn't hold his additional weight even if she could block him, she stepped to the side and used the body of her sword to let it slide down to the ground.
This continued on for a few more turns. Disappear, appear, stab, parry, disappear, appear, swing, counter, disappear, appear, block. Neither suffered from the disorienting effect of the constant movement between spaces.
It was a common understanding that a magical duel was fought at a distance. After all, between wand movements and reciting spells, some spells took time to conjure and no one wanted to give away the advantage of being far from one's opponent. However, that did not mean close combat was impossible. A wizard who wasn't afraid to cross the distance and curse his opponent point blank before they could even blink only spoke of an otherworldly mastery in both magic and practical combat.
"Short-distance apparition or micro-apparition," Tom began when their blades were locked once more, "you know this too."
"What, you think I was only taking notes when we were discussing magical theory?" she smirked, and her answer seemed to have pleased him so much his lips curled into a sinister grin.
She thought the way his eyes glowed red at that moment was beautiful.
Alas their competitive natures reminded them of the time limit of their duel. So the next time Hermione disapparated, she made sure to pinpoint it at a distance farther away from Tom.
When she released her spell, her sword made of light shattered like glass. Instead of motioning her wand to cast another spell, she took out the rose she had plucked from the Velvet room earlier and held it aloft before her lips. This earned her a curious look from the wizard, which intrigued him enough to not do anything so she could do what she wanted without interruption. Hermione took the opportunity gladly.
Pink lips pursed and blew out air. The red petals easily broke off and flew steadily at his direction. It was then when Hermione made large motions of her arms as if she was performing a ribbon routine. Like listening to the beat of a silent song, each rose petal divided for another identical copy of itself. One became two, then from those two, three appeared more, until hundreds of rose petals were floating about and filled the air with its sweet aroma.
At the last end of her routine, Hermione locked eyes with Tom, and for whatever reason, audibly spoke her next spell only loud enough for him to hear.
"Bombarda Minima."
Tom's red eyes glowed in understanding.
He disapparated just in time for Hermione to direct her wand towards Tom.
She had anticipated Tom would apparate somewhere behind her, but was surprised instead to find out he reappeared right in front of her. Too shocked to respond in time, Tom used his free hand to grab her arm to pull her close to his side. Oppugno jinxed the rose petals to target at Tom, but because of her presence, it caused a confliction. For whenever a rose petal drew close to him, he would spin her around to take his position. Using her as a shield that made the petal retreat from harming its caster. She realized his intention and Hermione glared at his amused face.
"Oh you are going to pay for that."
.
Meanwhile, their spectators were beside themselves in awe and admiration.
"Those two… they can't be serious," Antonin began.
"I don't think they can still be called human at this point," Yril added.
"I've seen Lord Voldemort duel before but this…"
Alduin tilted his head at the two, "This is shocking to you?"
"Of course! This is the kind of duel you only see from absolute grandmasters!"
"Huh…" the boy drawled, not quite comprehending their shock. He was held to the belief that this was the standard in dueling after witnessing his mother. "Can you please explain?"
Mr. Rosier volunteered. In his hand was a pocket watch he had been using to monitor their time, "Well, for one, the fundamental rule of a wizard's duel is to incapacitate your opponent as soon as possible. The best way to do this is by using spells that give instantaneous effects or damage like most hexes and curses. After all, you wouldn't want to give your opponent the opportunity to fight back.
"Secondly, nature magic is a lot more complicated than it seems. While there are spells that can produce, say water and fire, to utilize them for combat is widely accepted as a hallmark of a wizard's magical capabilities. Casting it is one thing, to manipulate it and use it against your opponent is another. Which is why, it's a common thought that if someone were to try using nature magick in a duel, it's for the purpose of showing off. Not to mention… light and dark nature magic is something unheard of. To cast light and control shadows is not the issue. The challenge is how to add mass to actually give damage. I admit this is my first time seeing it myself used in a duel."
"Spare the boy those trivialities! That's not even the most impressive part of this duel!" Dr. Schugel cut in loudly, his eyes were wide and his grin stretched across his face with a manic sort of excitement. "Multiple casting! Compound magic! This is truly monumental!"
"I suppose I can understand his enthusiasm," Mr. Rosier sighed at the doctor's theatrics and proceeded to explain those parts to Alduin, "Because of the universal understanding that magic folk cast magic using a single wand, your average witch or wizard can only cast one spell at a time. Your parents, however, clearly showed that they are capable of doing more than that at once. Just like when your father casted a spell to summon the water serpent, he also casted the Traho spell at the same time.
"Usually, spells are cast to fulfill a single function, and your level of control and mastery allows you to do a bit more with it. For example, the basic levitation spell- Wingardium Leviosa, its main function is to levitate an object off the ground. If you have more control, you could also move it around as you please mid-air however you want. But the key point is that those capabilities are within the limits of that spell.
"Compound magic, as the name implies, is the technique of casting one or more spells atop the primary spell. Layering magic like this would grant your basic spell multiple functions. What your mother had just done to those rose petals is the very definition of compound magic. I suspect, after keeping them afloat with Leviosa, she layered them with Duo and Tres Gemino to increase their numbers, and finally, imbued them with a modified Bombarda Minima so that it would only explode upon contact.
Alduin's eyebrows raised, "Ahh I understand now. I didn't realize you can do that much with spells."
"It's good that you are quick to appreciate this display of mastery, young lord! Even more when you realize your parents have all done this without uttering a single spell this entire time or with the aid of an artefact!" Dr. Schugel cheered, "This kind of skill… No wonder your father married your mother!"
Alduin left them to their conclusions and turned his head back at the duel coming to an end below.
He had been feeling… nervous… ever since his parents announced their duel. A repeat of what happened before stirred his heart to apprehension. But he heard his parents' silent promise and part of him thought it was enough to obey.
Maybe if it weren't for this nervousness, he would've appreciated the display of magic and be full of awe like the adults next to him. Then something happened in the middle of their duel. He wasn't sure exactly at which point, but the tension in the air… the flavor changed. Something he was unfamiliar and hadn't encountered before.
Alduin's mind raced with these thoughts as he watched his parents. In the middle of a rose storm, the way they pushed and pulled against each other, it hardly looked like they were still fighting anymore. It's best to say they were dancing to a silent tune. As the world ceased to exist but the two of them.
"I don't get it."
.
"TIME'S UP!"
Rosier's sonorous shout effectively halted their movements. But even as the rose petals around them fell to the ground as gentle rain, neither Hermione nor Tom parted from each other in their dancer's hold. Lips parted to recover their breaths, their clothes were bathed in dust and suffered minor damages from the elements. Even Tom had his chest heaving from exhaustion and his hair was broken free from its coiffed confines.
"Well, this had been fruitless," Hermione began, to which Tom raised an artful brow, "it's a tie… again."
"On the contrary, how's your foot?" he reminded about the stinging hex he had hit her with, "If we're at least counting points, I was the only one who successfully landed a hit on you."
"Oh, so you hadn't noticed?"
Her amused expression was brighter when she raised her hand from where it held his broad shoulder, and lightly skimmed the pad of her long finger to the height of his left cheek. The muscle there tensed on instinct and Tom almost hissed at the stinging sensation. When Hermione pulled her hand back, there was the clear evidence of his own blood.
If possible, Tom's eyes further dilated at the sight. He lowered his gaze at their feet where the rose petals gathered. Some began to fade into nothingness as the Gemino spell was released.
"Bombarda Minima and… Inspico," he met her gaze once more.
The Sharpening Charm can be used to turn any edge of an object into a sharp edge, and even further hone an object that was already sharp.
For the first time, her grin didn't seem annoying to him. Tom smirked, "Clever girl."
Slowly, Hermione put some distance between them. It was one thing to discuss magical theory with him and collaborate for the sake of their new house, but it was another to witness and feel it in practice.
To think someone else had cracked the code to (literal) light and dark nature magic…
"Well, there goes settling the score," she said as she brushed her hair back using her fingers. Her wand held loosely with her other hand.
"Shame, but I don't see any problem with that," he replied before leaning forwards so his lips were brushing against her ear, "After all, we could always go for another round."
Something long dormant surfaced from her depths. She wasn't sure if Tom said those words deliberately or not, but part of her couldn't help interpreting it as something more… sexually suggestive. Unfortunately, her thoughts were laid bare when heat instantly crawled up from her neck to the tips of her ears. A sight that definitely made Tom's smirk widen, but before he could tease her about it, their attentions were stolen by a small body that latched itself to Hermione's stomach.
"Alduin," she began as she held back her son by the shoulders. Her gaze softened, "Everything is all right. See?"
The boy didn't move from his position nor made any indication that he heard her until a larger hand fell atop his head. Alduin looked up at his father's resolute expression with his large, dark eyes.
"I told you, didn't I?" Tom said. It wasn't hard to figure out that both parents made separate promises to their child that the incident from before would never happen again.
Comforted by this, Alduin buried his face back to his mother's stomach and nodded.
.
"Is this your first time at a hotel?"
"No," Hermione admitted even as she looked around the room like a fascinated child. "I stayed at the Hexlion Hotel in America. Hotels aren't exactly as common as inns."
After their duel, they were quickly ushered to where they could clean themselves up. Alduin was also eager for a bath as he only did a quick wipe down of his own exertions earlier. To both of their surprise, they found themselves inside the lobby of an actual wizarding hotel.
The Silvershore Hotel was akin to a palace. Though not overly large and economic in design like most hotels, it boasted a sense of coziness and luxury that made their guests feel at home.
They were immediately greeted by the staff and, who seemed to be the owner, as they were escorted quickly to their rooms. Introductions were sparse and quick as their accommodations took precedence. Hermione was shoved inside a room (suite) with Tom while Alduin was taken to the room next to theirs. Mrs. Karlstein assured her that she will see to the young lord, and while part of Hermione still had her guard up for being in Tom's territory, her instincts told her she could trust the older witch.
Once inside their own room, Tom, in a gentlemanly gesture, let her use the bathroom first and Hermione was not one to deny such an offer. Though she made sure to not take her time, she was surprised to find a small group of three witches and a house elf waiting for her after she was done. They explained that they were from called to provide and assist their lord's wife with a change of clothes, and while Hermione wasn't fond of getting fussed over, she didn't exactly have a choice with her own lack of spare clothing… and the clearly eager and excited eyes of the young witches before her. Later on, she would learn that it was Yril that had prepared everything in order and she had to praise the older woman for her quick work and insight.
While Tom took his turn in the bath, they dressed her in a two-toned dress. The top resembled a white sabrina blouse while the dark skirt reached just above her ankles. They even provided her a matching set of shoes with baby heels. Hermione chose this in preference for something comfortable and casual, but she's also impressed with the quality of the dress itself.
When her husband emerged from the bath, Tom was already dressed in a shirt and vest and Hermione was lounging on the chaise chair and thanking those who assisted her. His clothing, in comparison, looked surprisingly muggle if it weren't for the imbued design that distinctly characterized of wizarding culture.
Tom dismissed the staff this way and they were finally alone in the room.
"That is because most wizarding communities have populations that are too low to justify proposing a hotel business. Transiting magic-folk are also few and far-between, so most of the time an inn would suffice," Tom answered as he fixed his clothes on a full-length mirror.
Hermione squinted her eyes when she caught what she thought was some sort of discoloration peeking out of Tom's collar. Too bad the wizard quickly adjusted the high collar too soon.
He added, "Silvershore was one of my primary investments after setting up Midgardsormr. There needs to be a suitable place to house future business partners and political figures."
"I see," she said as her eyes this time followed his movements in securing the garter sleeves around his arms. Whatever thing that started a presence within her, it made her focus on his arms which she knew had muscle and strength hidden beneath the sleeves. Hermione quickly shook those thoughts aside, "And does Skyborne Crater's current population justify having its own hotel?"
He looked back at her over his shoulder, "The fact that Skyborne is home to the newest and only global trading point in the wizarding world more than justifies its establishment. You'd be surprised how many guests come and go this place seeking opportunities."
'That makes sense.' She noticed during her brief tour across the island's three levels the variety of shops present. Midgardsormr was primarily in the trading business but it also welcomed its doors indiscriminately when the island established its sovereignty.
"I would imagine migrants were more than happy to be welcomed at the center of trade where materials from around the world are easily accessible. Most of the shops I saw sell artisan goods," she eyed him sharply, "It makes me wonder how much you pay for your robes."
"Oh, I don't pay for robes. All of my robes are on the house. If not, the house burns down," he answered with his tone in jest, but the sinister glint in his eyes told her otherwise. "That includes your dress too. After all, it would be a shame for their business to lose our family's patronage."
'Honestly this man…'
The door to their room opened to reveal Alduin, fresh from his bath and changed into the spare clothes he had brought with him, with Yril just behind.
"Mother, Father," he greeted as he helped himself inside and joined with his mother on the chaise chair.
Yril chose to stay by the door as she asked for further instructions from her employer. When Tom said none and dismissed her for now, Hermione made sure to quickly thank her for what she had done before the woman excused herself. Yril's smile was kind and appreciative as she closed the door behind her.
Tom began as he took the chair opposite them, "Now, before we leave for lunch-" Alduin perked up at this, "-there are some things the two of you must know. Now that I am practically announcing your presence to my people, we need to make sure we are all on the same page."
"You couldn't have briefed us before coming here?" Hermione crossed her arms.
"I was originally planning to, but the opportunity presented itself, so I took it." He made himself comfortable before he started, "Let me start with a short history lesson. Where we are standing now is on an island in the Pacific Ocean. This nameless place would later be called as Skyborne Crater."
Tom explained them the history of the island, the same story Yril had told her earlier in the day, and so far, everything he said had been consistent with her version. With the addition of some details that actually made Hermione drop her jaw in shock.
"Hold on a moment," she held her hand up to stop him while the other held her forehead, "The reason these people call you the Dark Lord… is because you used dark magic to liberate this island?"
"You should know that dark magic is not as taboo as those in outside major wizarding communities. Out here, every form of magic is fair game, and since I am technically the lord of this land, the title fits," he shrugged, "To be fair, I did not name myself that way."
"But…" Hermione gnawed on her lip, unsure and at a total loss for words. Her mind needed time to comprehend the fact the great menace of her time had earned his moniker for a completely different reason.
Alduin raised his hand up like a student, to which Tom nodded at him in acknowledgement, "Then what of the name Lord Voldemort? Did they give you that name too, Father?"
"No. Voldemort was the alias I gave myself. I may have established a large presence but I still desired discretion wherever possible. While I'm sure there are those who know my real name, everyone on the island refer to me as Lord Voldemort."
"Oh," Alduin hummed before whispering very softly, "Father should apologize to the French language… Then may I ask how you were able to claim this land? I don't mean the ones you defeated here but didn't you encounter any outside forces? I don't understand how someone could just claim sovereignty over somewhere."
"Easily, boy. The first and foremost is because this island is outside any country's jurisdiction. Specifically, it isn't anywhere near a country's Exclusive Economic Zone. So no 'outside force' has any right to refute my claim. While this island was only known to a specific group of magic-folk, no country or wizarding community had any history of interest or claim over it, essentially making it free land for whoever wants it to be its absolute ruler."
"But the next question is how are you able to gain recognition?" Hermione cut in, "Anyone can claim a piece of new land for themselves but unless the International Confederation of Wizards recognize you as an actual sovereignty, you'd still be labeled as a nobody. Ultimately, they don't care if an independent state suddenly pops up out of nowhere."
"That is where Midgardsormr comes in. The reason why I placed its headquarters here, and made it the lifeblood of the island."
While the adults exchanged a look of understanding, Alduin tilted his head in confusion, "I don't get it. Why is it important for this organization to recognize father? And why does your company play a significant role in it?"
Tom stared at Alduin intently, "That is approaching politics and economics, Alduin. Do you think you'll be able to understand?"
"I've read George Orwell's Animal Farm and Niccolo Machiavelli's The Prince. I'm pretty confident I can catch up, Father," Alduin answered proudly.
Tom's eyes narrowed, "You've read muggle books…"
"Extremely important muggle books," Hermione stressed.
Tom stared at Alduin for a few moments longer, but whatever opinion he had on the matter was something he kept to himself as he continued without further prompt.
"I's not so much as recognizing me, Alduin, but the land itself. The recognition comes from the value of the what the land could offer. In Skyborne's case, it doesn't have any natural resources or native commodities that can sell that makes it unique. There aren't many fishes either because of the fact that many sea serpents and leviathans traverse these waters. To establish a sovereignty is to have some resources to offer, primarily in order to provide its citizens.
"Midgardsormr solves that problem as it makes the island the primary point of trade. Every ship returns to the island and I hold a portion of stocks of every resource that gains an entry in my company's inventory. It becomes all the more valuable because Midgardsormr is the only company of its kind. It solved the vacuum that came from the wake of the muggle world wars and reignited globalization in the wizarding world. The mission of this company is to establish trade routes and provide a variety of resources to every wizarding community around the world. While its vision is to pave a way for magical innovation and improve the quality of life of the wizarding world through the access of international opportunities,"
He turned his gaze to Hermione, "As my wife, you should know at least this much. Especially since you had no intention of being a silent participant. While we agreed to not meddle in each other's business, I will not have other people insult my name because my wife is clueless of what her husband does. Obviously, this is the asset I will be sharing with you as per the agreement in our contract."
Still reeling from the information and emotions conflicting inside her, all Hermione could do was nod. She was also strangely reminded of the time he got offended at her for implying he had no source of income back when they were discussing the terms of their contract.
'Him telling me all of this also meant he's expecting me to take my turn in the contract.'
"And the ICW and other wizarding ministries just went along with it? How come I've never heard news of this?"
"Oh it was, but I made sure the papers were discreet about it. No one cared about a small island in the middle of nowhere anyway, and I have my friends to thank for that."
"What of Grandark?"
"I am within my right to establish a police, judicial court, and military force to maintain peace and order in my domain."
'Voldemort talking about peace and order… I can't tell if this is a nightmare.'
Really, she didn't know what to think anymore.
"Midgardsormr… Midgard… The World Serpent… the serpent who grew so large that it was able to encircle the world…" Alduin mumbled before brightening up at his father. His eyes shone with uncensored approval and awe, "I think it's a genius name for your company, father!"
"Thank you, Alduin. I'm glad you think so," his lips curled up into a small smile. His own approval reflected towards his son who understood the meaning behind his decision.
Then the boy asked, "Aren't you worried about other people stealing or competing against you? Father may be powerful but if other people take interest of your novel business…"
This time, a dark chuckle erupted from the older ravenhead. The way his legs were crossed, his arms draped over the armrests, and the dark expression on his face, made him the picture-perfect description of the confident, powerful lord he claimed himself to be.
"I'd like to see them try," he said sinisterly, "Unless they're able to invent a method of magical travel through air or advance in the area of time and space magic, they can only dream of competing against me. Because you see, my son, I am not just the ruler of this island. All of the seven seas, the five oceans, and the ocean depth itself… belongs to me."
Both mother and son widened their eyes at his declaration. His tone and manner of delivery alone gave no room for doubt and argument, that to think he was bluffing or not telling the truth was futile. For Hermione, this further increased the dread weighing on her shoulders.
Just what did he mean he owns the seas and oceans? She knew his ships travel via the ocean floor but to say that he owns it? The Voldemort in her past never had this wide reach of international ties. How would this change affect the future of this world?
Does she even want to intervene? That was never her goal for existing here in the first place.
"But that's a secret only I am privy to," Tom added, "The fact of the matter is, competition is no concern of mine."
Alduin pouted, "Can't you give us even a little hint, Father? We promise we won't tell."
Tom passed a glance at Hermione before landing at Alduin, "If you're good, I might actually tell you the secret one day."
"Then can you at least tell us why you made Midgaardsormr in the first place?"
Tom answered easily, "Unlike other companies, a trading company is usually discreet. Midgardsormr is not concerned with advertisements as it primarily acts as an intermediary between producers and manufacturers. We provide opportunities of foreign resources to places that lack them. The business is actually a bit harder to understand because its assets aren't so fixed but I'm aiming to resolve that in the near future. Mercantilism was one of the reasons for the wizarding world's stagnation. This business changes things, and I don't mean only the market."
But the younger ravenhead shook his head, "I don't mean why you made Midgardsormr in relation to the island, father. I meant why did you choose to create it at all."
Perhaps taken aback, Tom did not answer for a few moments and his face became perfectly passive. When he finally deigned to answer, he turned his head to the side to the large window that had a perfect view of the port.
"Trading… buying from others and reselling it, I am very familiar with this type of business. I just decided to expand my ambitions than just a small shop," his jaw tensed, "As if I'd ever be contented to how I was before. But that's a story for another day"
Eh olsko dsa.
Alduin discreetly looked around when he thought he heard something other than his father's voice.
Hermione suddenly felt strangely awkward.
A moment of silence passed over them when a knock came from the door. When Tom allowed them entry, it revealed to be the wizard wearing a monocle and doctor's lab coat.
"My lord, lady, and young lord," he began, "I do hope I wasn't interrupting anything."
"We were just finishing our conversation. What is it, Hans?" Tom replied.
He grinned, "I just passed by to see if any of you required seeing to after your outstanding display of feats earlier."
"You're a healer?" Hermione wondered aloud, welcoming the distraction.
"Ahh I suppose you haven't been properly introduced. Hermione, this is Dr. Hands Schugel, the director of Paathurnax Memorial Hospital."
"Your husband and I go way back!" he exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Oh," she blinked at his exuberance, "I see. It's a pleasure to meet you… doctor? That's quite the muggle title, don't you think?"
She casted a quick glance at Tom but he made no reaction.
"Ahh, my field is not just in healing, Lady Riddle. My areas of expertise also include magical theory and application. Sadly, there is no wizarding equivalent that best describes my skills in one title unlike 'Doctor'," he sighed forlornly as he adjusted his monocle.
"Is that so?" Hermione smiled kindly, "Ah what about the young man with you? He was also at the pitch earlier. Will we be seeing him again?"
"Of for sure, my lady! He's a promising member in the Grandark ranks. His name is Antonin Dolohov-!"
The vase on the far corner of the room suddenly exploded. It nearly made Alduin and Dr. Schugel jump in surprise.
A scorched body laughing maniacally within rushing flames. No! No! Stay away from me! A hand reaching out. A lipless mouth grinning. Eyes unhinged. Need more… more power. Please! Please! Cold fire unlocked Promethean blaze.
Her first kill.
"Mother! Mother, are you alright?"
Hermione snapped down to her son's worried face. One of the closed doors of her memory palace burst open and in response, her mind casted Occlumens on herself. She brought her hand up to her temple and massaged the spot there. Belatedly, she realized the tips of her hair were lit with blue flames.
"I'm alright," she assured with a strained smile, "I just felt lightheaded all of a sudden."
Across from her, Tom's dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Perhaps it is best for you to check, Schugel, especially the lady. She might be a little stressed."
The doctor turned to him but his look was kicked him to immediate obedience, "Of course, my lord. My lady, may I?"
Feeling slightly better, Hermione allowed the doctor to approach and the good doctor merely held her hand.
"Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed after three minutes of silence.
"Is something wrong?"
"Oh no! Nothing at all my lady! In fact, everything is absolutely perfect. Just perfect! You do not require any healing at all," he grinned in that exuberant manner of his. "However… forgive me for being too forward, my lady, but is it alright for me to ask a little bit of your medical and family history?"
Hermione blinked at him oddly, "I suppose… What is you want to ask?"
"Oh, I'm just wondering, but is the lady suffering from any heart problems? Or is there a history of a kind in your family?"
No one noticed how Tom uncrossed his legs and leaned forward in his seat in sudden attention.
Hermione frowned, "Uhm… no, none that I recall."
"How about your eyes? Have you had any problems with your eyesight? Are you able to see things that aren't there? or have you experienced anything related to the seer-phenomena? Have you ever had any visions?"
"I hate to inform you, doctor, but I am the last person to ever believe in divinations," she huffed and crossed her arms. Brown eyes narrowed at him dangerously, "What is the goal of these questions, doctor?"
Like a switch flipped on, the odd glint in Dr. Schugel's eyes disappeared as his wide grin once again broke on her face, "Oh it's just the standard medical query, my lady. Do excuse this old healer. You spend years engrossed in your study and practice it becomes an unknown habit before you know it!"
True to his word, his next line of questions were those anyone could commonly find in any medical questionnaire. Hermione didn't mind answering these questions. She had lived a relatively healthy lifestyle and there was nothing for her to hide.
"And lastly, was there any complications during and after your pregnancy?"
For a moment, her eyes caught Tom's and she was almost swallowed in those inky depths.
"Everything went fine."
"Wonderful!" the doctor cheered before turning to Alduin next, and then Tom. Unlike her, the doctor didn't ask them such extensive questions as he held their hand.
"Will that be all?" Tom asked after the good doctor finished.
"Yes. Nothing else seems to be amiss. Then I will take my leave, my lords and lady. It was truly a pleasure meeting you."
Dr. Schugel's smile was genuine as he closed the door behind him.
"By the way, I've been meaning to ask," Hermione began, "With Alduin participating in this training regime, how will that affect his schedule?"
"I will discuss it with Rosier before deferring to you. Though I was thinking every morning during the weekdays and then supplemented in the afternoons," Tom turned to Alduin, "I also expect him to develop a routine to follow even during the weekends."
Alduin dramatically hung his head, "There goes my trips to Diagon Alley and Carkitt Market."
"Weren't you growing bored there anyway?"
The boy flushed a brilliant shade of red, "Y-You don't have to say it out loud…"
"This is for your own good. Think of it as us teaching you self-defense. Magic or no, learning to defend oneself is essential."
"Your father has a point, Alduin. It's important to keep yourself prepared. You need to learn how to detect and be cautious against dangerous people."
"But aren't mother and father considered dangerous people?"
Alduin's smile towards his parents was so innocent his teeth almost shone.
There's always a new space when things fall apart.
What matters after the ending is how you left a mark.
No matter how far, where you'll go, or will it last,
Till you finally grasp that star,
Don't ever stop.
I apologize for the long wait. I promise the next chapter will be uploaded real soon after this one.
More world-building in this chapter. Though I hope this family was able to build more bridges than before.
Oh and I would like to remind everyone that Tom is still not a good guy.
I hope everyone is doing well! I am really grateful for the old readers who continue to like and read this story and I would love to thank and welcome all the new readers!
Stay awesome!
Ciao~!