"See how our wants horrify us."

- Ruth Awad

Chapter 11: Big Bad Wolf

"Gentleman…" Tom's voice rang out.

He had called a meeting at the Riddle House with everyone in attendance. Down the rows of the main dining room table that was dimly lit with candelabras, he saw their obedient eyes cast towards himself as their conversations immediately died out.

"A wonderful opportunity has presented itself to me", he started, his long index finger circling the perimeter of his glass that held fire whiskey.

"What is it my Lord?" Abraxas spoke up.

"It seems a certain Headmaster is interested in one of my latest recruitments and has invited them out to tea", Tom explained further without dropping Hermione's name. He was not ready to release the information that he had not only recruited someone so new into their lives, but a woman at that. Not that Tom needed their approval or very much cared if his followers were shocked or not by it. They had all met his little fox in some way at this point and the image of her being a socialite airhead needed to be stomped out before he presented her as his new right hand.

Because that was his plan for her.

Tom had mused it over all evening, forgoing sleep in favor of trying to find the perfect placement in his life for his latest obsession. In the end, he decided that her power needed to be savored, needed to be praised and feared like his own. Tom could already tell how ruthless that girl could be and how vicious her magic was. That spell she casted at his pathetic excuse of a Death Eater drove him crazy just thinking about it. He was positive if she had not attended to Dolohov within the next few minutes, the man would have bled out and she didn't even care. She turned her back on the bleeding man and focused solely on Tom when she saw him. She had to be dragged back to heal him, and it seemed almost like a burden.

His little fox was a killer.

A cold-blooded viper of a killer and Tom couldn't wait to hold her in his hands and mold her. What started as a small fixation of just wanting to fuck her and cast her away was long gone. The girl was now an integral part in his future plans, especially with an open invitation to tea with his old Headmaster. He knew Dumbledore was always suspicious of him and the murder of that useless girl, whatever her name was… Myrtle Warren. But he could never prove it. And who would believe him? Tom was the epitome of everything a student should have been. Head Boy, courteous, polite, all Outstandings on everything that was graded, and always went out of his way to help others.

It was his greatest disguise and his longest rouse.

He could be all of those things, yes, and he was most of those things, but wanting to help others was purely out of him being selfish and wanting others to trust him. People were easier to manipulate and mold when you had already helped them, and they already had a preconceived notion of who they think you are.

And that's why he hated Dumbledore. He was the only one who saw right through Tom's false exterior and although he never confronted Tom directly, he made enough insinuations of Tom's true nature that it put him on edge. It only took one lemming to start believing Dumbledore's narrative and the whole persona Tom had built himself over 7 years would have come tumbling down.

But good thing for Tom, Lady Luck always seemed on his side.

And Lady Luck came in the form of a half-giant, half-idiot named Rubeus Hagrid and his love for unfortunate creatures, like Tom.

The man-child was easily persuaded and befriended by Tom and quickly let him in on the secret creatures he housed in the castle making him the perfect scapegoat for when that muggle-born witch went snooping into his bathroom.

Although Tom did appreciate the boy's love for ugly, sad creatures, wanting to take all of them in and give them a loving home, something Tom could relate to. Having always dreamt about joining a loving home as a small child. But he couldn't pass the opportunity up. He couldn't become the new leader the wizarding world needed behind the bars of Azkaban. Unfortunately for others and fortunate for Tom, they didn't have the hindsight he had and quickly pointed fingers at the stout, younger student and his creature he kept in the supply closet.

To become a Dark Lord, innocent souls had to be sacrificed for the greater good.

"One of your latest recruitments?" Abraxas asked, quirking an eyebrow. The man had a look of shock of his face that Tom knew was nervousness. Normally, he would confide something like recruiting someone new to his fair-haired confidante. However, Abraxas had shown interest in his little fox and Tom just couldn't tolerate that. The man made her feel uneasy at their first meeting and he would never let that go. Every time he thought of what Abraxas must think of his witch, it made his jaw clench and want to strangle Abraxas. To Tom, the man had sealed his new position in their ranks with his blatant flirting with the girl. They needed someone like her. Someone cold, ruthless. The ying to Tom's yang.

"I was not aware you were recruiting someone new", Abraxas muttered as he frowned at the table," Is it someone I know?"

"That doesn't matter", Tom told his henchman," I know them, and they will be joining us soon once I deem them ready."

"I just usually-"Abraxas continued.

"Do I answer to you, Abraxas?" Tom's words dripped from his lips slowly like poison.

A chill air settled over the table as dark magic sparked around them, grim expressions donning everyone's faces.

"No, of course not my Lord", Abraxas chuckled awkwardly, feeling the errors of his assumptions immediately," I was just indicating to past times is all."

"Because I did something in the past, you assume I am to come to you with all of my thoughts and plans for the future then?" Tom lifted an eyebrow, his long fingers tapping against the tabletop," Is that it?"

"No, you mistake what I'm saying."

Mistake.

Abraxas' eyes widened as he audibly said the word mistake, having known that was not the right word to say.

Tom had had enough. With a flick of his hand, wrist restraints appeared on Abraxas' chair holding his arms down as a dark tendril of magic weaved its way around the man's mouth, closing it entirely. Alarm and fear went into the man's pale blue eyes as he side-eyed his old school friend and the twisted frown that now was on his face.

When Tom frowned, everyone felt nervous.

Tom stood, the chair he sat in scraping the ground as it was pushed back.

"Does anyone else have anything to say about me recruiting someone into my ranks?" Tom asked the men surrounding the table that was now vibrating underneath Tom's hands," Does anyone else have any questions about my plans? Does anyone else think I am making mistakes?"

Heads quickly shook, but no eyes reached their leader.

"I thought I was coming here delivering great news that we finally had a way back in to Hogwarts due to this new development, and here I am…", Tom stood and acted baffled, feigning hurt in his voice," -being questioned, like I don't know what I'm doing."

"Do I answer to any of you?" Tom asked the table rhetorically and the men shook their heads again, a couple whispered," No, my Lord."

"And I certainly don't answer to fucking you", Tom raised his wand and placed the tip at Abraxas' temple," Do I?"

The man quickly shook his head, and Tom could tell he was trying to hold back tears.

Pathetic little bitch…

"The next time one of you questions me", Tom warned the table," I will not be as polite."

He waved his hand, and the wrist restraints vanished along with the mouth bind. Abraxas rubbed his wrists with his hands and nodded.

"Please forgive me, my Lord", he muttered," I forgot my place."

"You did", Tom nodded and feigned like he was thinking, but he already knew what his next act would be. It was the uneasy moments like now that he lived for. When his followers didn't know if he would be vengeful or let them off easy, and the moments in between were fucking delicious to him. The fear that would be on their faces as they watched him closely. The fear that was on their faces now.

"But to prove my point", Tom's eyes flashed to crimson as they settled on Abraxas and without saying a word, the man screamed in his chair as he crumpled from it and fell underneath the table, writhing in agony.

"P- please T-Tom", Abraxas' strained words reached the room's ears and Tom saw red. With another wave, a new agonizing wail filled the room followed by Tom muttering silencio. All that could be heard was Abraxas' body rattling on the floor, along with the scrape of his shoes and nails.

Tom slowly walked over to the man who was now in an almost backbend, tears falling from his face, his teeth clenched like they might shatter. Gripping the man's chin in his pale hand, Tom brought his face close to his.

"It's Lord Voldemort to you", he growled out and threw his head back into the floor. Waving his hand, the curse stopped, leaving Abraxas breathing hard on the floor, followed by him throwing up on the carpet.

"Someone clean this fucking mess up."

And Tom left the room, announcing the meeting was over by his leaving.

Hermione fiddled with the buttons in front of her jumper as she slowly walked into the Leaky Cauldron to meet her old Headmaster turned new acquaintance. She knew Dumbledore to always be kind and wise, so she wasn't sure why she was so nervous. There would be no way for him to know she was from the past or what she was here for. She was sure of it…

But the nerves persisted.

As she stepped into the cozily, lit building, her eyes immediately found the younger version of Dumbledore. The headmaster was engrossed in a book, leaning back in the wooden chair he sat in very casually with a teacup in front of him with steam curling out of it. As opposed to his long colorful robes he wore in her school years, it would seem 1940's Dumbledore liked to wear tasteful 3 piece suits, complete with a pocket watch. He looked very tasteful she decided.

"Excuse me, miss", Hermione stopped a witch that was carrying a tray covered in empty glasses," I am looking for a Headmaster Dumbledore? Do you happen to know if he's here?"

"Oh yes, miss", the witch pointed to him," He is right over there. Can I get you anything?"

Hermione smiled at her," I'll drink whatever he is having, thank you."

Dumbledore looked up as he heard her approaching steps and for a moment, Hermione had to hold back her tears. It had been so long since she had seen his warm smile and how his eyes crinkled in the corners when he was happy to see someone. Although she forgave Snape for killing her beloved headmaster for the greater good, her heart still never felt fully healed from it.

"Miss Vulpecula", he closed his book and stood promptly, extending his hand to her," A pleasure. Thank you for meeting with me."

"The pleasure is all mine", Hermione smiled back and shook his hand excitingly," Thank you for the invite."

"Please", he gestured to the chair across from him and resumed his seat," May I get you something to drink?"

"No, thank you, I ordered on my way over here", she explained," And I do apologize, sir. Do you prefer headmaster Dumbledore, sir, or mister?"

"I'm afraid I am unsure of how to address someone of your stature." Hermione admitted sheepishly.

Dumbledore gave a small smile," Please, Albus is fine. We are peers."

Hermione wanted to laugh to herself at the prospect of calling a man she had held so highly and respected for so many years by his first name. In her own timeline, she would never have dared to do so.

"I must insist you call me Hermione then."

The server brought her the drink she ordered, and she took a small sip, trying not to burn her lips. She was pleased it was a sweet tasting tea that Dumbledore had been drinking. Placing her cup down, she folded her hands in front of her.

"Pardon my boldness", she started," But to what do I owe the pleasure of you wanting to meet?"

His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at her, fully putting his book away," I see you like to get down to business. Very well. I have heard tale of your duel that took place the other evening."

Hermione nodded, still unsure of where this conversation was going. Did he know about her using the spell 'sectumseptra'? Did he know about her use of dark magic?

"I see my reputation precedes me", she joked lightly and was relieved he was still looking at her pleasantly.

"Yes, well, I have colleagues that are part of that club that boasted quite favorably of your skills and your footwork for someone so young", he explained," And you can imagine my surprise when I have colleagues that are my age and have been in their fair share of duels with dark wizards and witches boasting about the talents of someone they have never met before."

"I am new to the area", Hermione told him casually. She could feel her cheeks warm under the praise that she was receiving, but also out of her sneaking anxiety. How could she explain her dueling at her age without explaining that it's because it was learned from defeating a wizard, who in this timeline was a handsome, young man who was just in the infancy of his rise to power?

"So, the riddle that plagues my mind", he leaned back and crossed his leg over his knee.

"How?"

"How what?"

"How did you get so skilled?"

"Practice." She answered curtly.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly and pressed his lips into a line," Very well, don't tell me. Point being is that I was wondering if you would be interested in being a guest at our Defense Against the Dark Arts class at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Her eyes went to the size of their teacup saucers at his open invitation to her.

She could go home. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as she imagined what it would feel like to step foot in her school. Hogwarts was completely abandoned and demolished in her own timeline. The thought didn't even occur to her that could set foot in Hogwarts until now.

"You want me to teach your students?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow, trying not to look too excited and obvious.

"In a way", he said," We already have a teacher, but I feel that students might react better to someone younger and also, someone who clearly knows what they're doing in dueling. Would you be interested?"

Am I interested? Fuck yeah, I'm interested. Should I tell Tom first before accepting?

Her face puckered up like she ate something sour at her last thought. Why should she need his permission? The question popped into her head like it was second nature. Like she should always assume to ask him and his opinion before saying yes to something. The thought sickened her.

"Yes, of course", she beamed at Dumbledore, casting her thoughts of Riddle aside," Just let me know when it would be convenient for you and your class."

"Splendid", Dumbledore beamed at her.

But as quickly as he was beaming at her, a shadow crossed over his face and the warm crinkles of his eyes seemed to smooth out as he donned a more morose expression.

"There is another matter that I would like to ask of you now", Dumbledore stated.

"Sure, what is it?" Hermione felt a small twinge in her stomach. The kind that when you know you're in trouble with your parents but aren't quite sure what it would be about.

"My colleagues have informed me that they saw you engaging with a previous student of mine and his cohorts after your duel."

Her throat dried as she double checked the walls surrounding her memories, seeing if there was any poking or prodding being done by Dumbledore. She felt relief when all of her walls were still intact, and he didn't seem to be trying to cast a legilimens.

He knows you're aligned with Riddle.

Hermione swallowed deeply, trying to keep her composure," I'm sorry?"

"Does the name Tom Riddle mean anything to you, Hermione?" Dumbledore asked boldly.

No point in lying.

Hermione shook her head yes and she carefully picked up her teacup and took a sip.

Become the assassin.

She felt her walls go up and her heartbeat return to a steady pace.

"Yes", she answered casually," I have recently made his acquittance and have become friends with some of his former classmates, like Alphard Black and Abraxas Malfoy."

Dumbledore nodded slowly and didn't say anything quite yet. She could see the gears turning in his head and she imagined he was deciding how much he should tell her about his previous pupil. Would he outright tell her about the murder of Moaning Myrtle? Would he tell her about Riddle's passion for the Dark Arts and how cruel of a little boy he was?"

The time clicked on as they sat in mutual silence.

In the end, he did none of those things.

"I see", Dumbledore offered a small smile, but this one didn't reach his eyes.

"I was just curious."

"For any particular reason?" Hermione pushed but he only shook his head.

"Not at the moment."

The rest of their meal went rather pleasantly as Hermione fell into a comfortable tit for tat with the headmaster. Had she been in her own timeline, she probably wouldn't have ever had such a casual luncheon with Albus Dumbledore, but in this timeline, she was seen as just another witch. He had even called her a peer to himself. She wished she could rub Harry's nose in it. At the end of their meeting, he had shaken her hand and told her he would owl to her soon so she could join a class.

Hermione walked away from the Leaky Cauldron buzzing with excitement. Although she knew she was there for one thing, and one thing only, she allowed herself this selfishness. Hogwarts had been a home to all of them and it had been far too long since she had seen its beautiful grandeur. She couldn't pass this opportunity up, even if it meant delaying killing Tom Riddle.

It wasn't like she had a clear cut plan anyways to do so. His murder was definitely something that was being played out as it happened. She knew when the right moment would be, but good things can't be rushed. Draco's voice was yelling in the back of her mind telling her to just Avada him at the next moment she saw him and then time turn her way back home, but what if the Time Turner didn't work anymore? What if there wasn't enough juice in it after her trip to this timeline and was labeled a murderer? Tom was always surrounded by people, and on the off chance that he wasn't, he was fast. Faster than her even and she couldn't act carelessly. It only took one wrong move of her not being 100% ready with her wand to Avada her on the spot first and then this would have all been for nothing.

It had to be done carefully.

Not to mention the fact that the few moments they were alone, he came onto her hard with his flirting and innuendos, making her frazzled and even more anxious. His magic and power were daunting and all-consuming enough without adding how disgustingly attractive he was.

Walking up to her house after apparating down the street, she opened the door and saw a post on the floor at her feet. On the front of the folded paper was an L.F. in elegant, long handwriting she knew to be Riddle's.

Little Fox.

Why did he always call her that? She unfolded the note:

Little Fox,

I hope this note finds you well and you take relief in knowing that I didn't break into your home this time. I want to meet sooner rather than later to know everything that was discussed at your luncheon and know that is not permission for it to be later. Please write your response on the back of this parchment.

TMR

Please note that I could have left this in your home, should I have wanted to despite your new wards. It is only out of my courtesy that I did not. And also, I don't want to be harmed by you again.

Hermione couldn't help but smirk to herself at his handwritten note to her.

Cheeky fucking bastard.

He was even flirty in his post to her and although she was still miffed about him initially breaking into her home the first time, she was relieved to know that in his own way, he respected her wishes and stayed out.

Don't humanize him.

The voice in the back of her head told her and it sounded like Draco, but still, the smirk remained on her face. Hermione was coming to terms that although her life's mission was to kill him, she knew it wasn't going to be today, tomorrow, or even next week at this point. Throwing his letter on her kitchen table, she stalked over to the cupboards and poured herself a glass of red wine. As the bold, fruit liquid coated her mouth, she stared at his letter unfolded on the table.

Would it really hurt anything if she was to be trained by him for the time being? Lord Voldemort was a formidable opponent. Even Dumbledore could barely beat him in a duel and as she trained as she was, what were her chances? Hermione was a stone-cold assassin, but she was not a witch for the history books. Her eyes widened at the idea that came to her.

Kill Tom Riddle with his own dueling. Hermione's heart sped up as a new plan was laying out before her very eyes. He wanted her, wanted to train her. Should she take the time and allow it to happen? Allow Tom Riddle to share his secrets, share his dueling skills. Let him make her rival what Lord Voldemort was going to be and when she was seeping in magic and power, turn on him and kill him.

He would never know what hit him.

Hermione was buzzing from the wine but also the excitement of her new plan. It would work. Riddle wanted her and she would allow him to take her. For dueling and training that is…

Setting down her glass, she walked over to the folded parchment and realized he didn't leave an enclosed address to send this back to. Maybe he meant to? Frowning, she figured she would write out the reply and leave it at his work early tomorrow morning before he got in.

Sitting down, she reached for a quill.

Tom...

As she went to write the second line, his name disappeared from the parchment like it was sinking sand. She stared blankly at it, not grasping what had just happened.

Yes?

She blinked at the three lettered word that looked like it was written in his handwriting. The letters slowly faded and new ones appeared.

I take it you got my note, Little Fox?

Again, the words lingered before fading. The cheeky bastard! He charmed the parchment like his journal, Hermione realized and recalled what Harry had told her about it.

I'm waiting…

Inhaling deeply, she took her quill to the parchment.

I did. Forgive me, I wasn't expecting a direct correspondence. I was expecting a return address like you had said earlier.

Hermione smirked to herself, hoping he was in a humorous mood.

I was going to, but why reveal my address? Unless you wanted to stalk me, Little Fox?

Why always Little Fox? What if I'm the Big Bad Wolf? Hermione felt smug as she wrote out her response.

Do you wish to eat me, Big Bad Wolf?

And as smug as she felt a moment ago, she felt her cheeks reddened and she looked away from the parchment in embarrassment.

Are you blushing?

She scowled as she wrote out No.

Liar. If you do not know why you are the Little Fox, then I'm afraid I know you better than you know yourself. Perhaps you should look to the stars.

What the fuck does that mean? Hermione frowned. He didn't know anything about her that she hadn't revealed herself to him.

How was the luncheon with Albus Dumbledore?

Sighing and pushing her thoughts to the side Fine. When do you want to meet so we can discuss it?

I will come for you tomorrow night and we'll go over everything.

Hermione's heart sped up. She couldn't very well say no, but she hated the small amount of excitement that she felt. If you must.

Be ready at 8.

Hermione decided not to reply anymore. She stared at the parchment, unsure of what she was feeling. Yes, he was a monster. Yes, he would do terrible things one day. But she was 19. And very much a girl as much as she was a killer. And Tom Riddle was an attractive man that was showing her interest and pursued her hard. She would never let their relationship go over the line of being physical for the fear or mixing business with pleasure, but she was slowly, begrudgingly letting herself feel excited at a cute boy showing interest in her. No one was here to judge her. She didn't have anyone here. Not her family or friends and she was starting to feel the loneliness of it.

Maybe she was just ultimately fucked up to find the man that she wanted and would kill more than anything attractive, but that was the reality of her life at the moment.

And with that truth acknowledged in her mind, she picked up the parchment, carefully folded it and carried it to her room, placing it on her bedside table, falling into bed to dream of dark eyes, strong dark magic weaving around her, and blood seeping.

Sorry for the long-awaited update. I have a lot going on in my personal life that will keep me away from writing for awhile, but updates will come. It may just take a little bit. xoxo.