"A rose by any other name, would still smell as sweet."

- William Shakespeare

Chapter Six: A Rose

Hermione's lips were raw and cracked from scrubbing them so hard. Voldemort's vile, putrid lips were on hers just the night before and she was still reeling from it. She didn't understand how off track she had gotten. She underestimated the entire situation and him. Hermione thought getting under his skin was just him being curious about her enough to get him to invite her to his inner circle. Not make a move on her! The entire night had thrown her off course and she didn't know how to get it redirected.

As she stared at herself in her bathroom mirror, she was disgusted by not only him, but herself. She had woken up laying in front of her door, her eyes dry from crying herself to sleep and bile rising in her throat. Turning her shower on scalding hot, she stripped the remnants of her clothing off of her and let the water burn her alive. Warm showers were a luxury she had entirely forgotten over the years. The water never seemed hot enough now. Her eyes glared at the shower curtain as she thought over the night's events, trying to get a new angle on her plan. His kiss had fucked it all up. His charming attitude, his teasing, his honesty fucked it all up. Her frown deepened. Scrubbing her scalp with her nails, the thought of his cold fingers laced through hers drifted into her mind.

"Ugh!" she grunted out at the thought. Yes, he was manipulative and charming and deceivingly good looking, but it didn't matter. Tom Riddle had to die. A thought dawned on her as she was reworking her plan. She had been going about him all wrong. He was not Voldemort, yet. He was Tom Riddle. A man still. A man who it seems has a sexual appetite. Riddle seemed strained the night before, telling her to call him Tom and holding her hand, but he still initiated kissing her. Pushing him had to have sent a clear message saying that she wasn't interested. He didn't even know her.

What if it was all a game to him? Riddle knew she was going to Malfoy Manor to meet Abraxas and tour his home. Hermione wouldn't put it past him to only make a move on her because Abraxas so clearly showed interest in her at Parkinson's dinner. Although she wasn't interested in Abraxas, Riddle didn't know that. Maybe he thought something was going to happen between the two of them and made a move first. But why would he even care?

Because he liked his follower's attention on only him, Hermione told herself. It was clear at the dinner that he held himself king in his court and even if Hermione was to join them as a way in, he definitely would only want to monopolize her attention and devotion. Even looking at Parkinson, it was clear she adored Riddle even if she was afraid of him. Maybe he had made a move on all the women in his group to get their loyalties. Her frown deepened even further, the water dripping down in front of eyes. She would have just been another notch on his totem pole of obedient followers that bent over backwards to his whim. The thought of him using her made her angry even more.

The shower knobs squeaked as she shut them off, her skin now pink from how hot the water had been. As she was drying her bushy hair in a towel, making sure to charm the curls into controlled ringlets, she heard a bell chime signaling a letter being delivered. Padding to her front door with a towel wrapped around her, she saw a post lying on the ground. It was from Abraxas saying that he would be delighted for her to visit today.

She had to infiltrate his followers and avoid Tom Riddle right now. Hermione was not going to underestimate him again. Although he was a monster in and out, in the 40's he was still a red-blooded male that was very charismatic and unfortunately, extremely attractive. Hermione was blaming her lack of being around nice-looking males the last few years for her total lack of judgement. As much as she dreaded going to Malfoy Manor, she was going to make the most of her time and try to find books on the Dark Arts to further her knowledge and give her a one up on Tom Riddle. To kill the enemy, she had to learn the enemy. And the thing she wanted to learn first: horcruxes.

"A pleasure to see you again, Miss Vulpecula", Abraxas grinned widely at Hermione as she entered his home. It looked just like she remembered, except with more light and the scent of blood wasn't hanging in the air. Her heart was pounding, and her anxiety was at an all time high, but her PTSD would not win.

Mudblood.

The scar burned on her arm with each step into the house.

"I cannot wait to see the library", Hermione plastered on her best grin as she tugged lightly at the hem of her sleeve, pulling it down towards her wrist.

"Of course, of course", Abraxas nodded and extended his elbow to her," Please, allow me to show you around."

As Abraxas Malfoy took her from room to room, explaining different family artifacts and the importance of each piece of furniture, she felt a pang in her heart for her Malfoy. She missed Draco terribly and standing next to his twin didn't help. She missed the smell of his stale cigarettes on his breath and the warmth and comfort he provided after all of the turmoil they had to endure. Hermione would never have admitted to Harry or Ron, if he was alive, but Draco had definitely become her best friend over time. She felt there would never be another person that would understand her without words quite like Draco did.

Abraxas thankfully didn't bring her to that horrid room where Bellatrix carved her up and she felt her heartbeat ease slightly. Although she knew he was attracted to her, Abraxas was definitely on his best behavior for this visit. He hadn't made a move on her yet and kept their conversation friendly and cordial.

"As beautiful as your home is", Hermione smiled at him," You still have yet to show me what I really want to see."

He laughed in return," Fair is fair. Alright, to the library!"

"Have you been enjoying your new life here since moving?" he asked, leading her towards the library.

Hermione nodded," I have been, thank you for asking. I've really enjoyed meeting all of you and getting more situated in my new home."

"Ah, yes", he replied," The dinner was nice the other night, wasn't it? Tell me, did you seem to get along with everyone?"

"I suppose", Hermione said slowly, pondering over his question," Should I not have?"

"No, no of course not", he said quickly, smiling at her," It just seemed like it was a lot of people for you to meet and I know some in the company could be more… Let's say, intimidating than others."

Be bold.

"Like Mr. Riddle?" Hermione asked innocently. Fall into my trap.

"I uh- no, I wasn't thinking of him", Abraxas cleared his throat, and she could sense the unease in his voice, his hooked arm tensing," Did he come to your mind for a reason?"

"None at all", she shook her head," Except I suppose he seemed rather pompous."

"Pompous?"

The look on his face was priceless. Hermione had to hold back her laughter. His mouth was twisted into a frown and the worry lines on his face were apparent. Abraxas was doing well not letting out who Tom Riddle really was to her, but like a typical follower, he seemingly could not speak ill of his master.

"Yes, pompous", she repeated with a smirk," But maybe that's just me. He seemed like he dictated how the evening went."

"Well, he was hosting", Abraxas informed her," He would be a terrible host not to dictate the evening."

Hermione shrugged her indifference," How foolish of me to think Miss Parkinson would host in her own home."

Abraxas said nothing further as he led her down a hall and came up to a pair of double doors. He seemed relieved at the reprieve in conversation.

"Here we are!"

He let go of her arm and opened both doors, pushing past them.

"Oh, goodness", Hermione whispered, her hand covering her heart, tears threatening to spring to her eyes. A warmth started to spread in her abdomen that started to weave itself around her heart. The warmth of intellect and the desire to learn. A warmth she hadn't felt since she left Hogwarts to hunt horcruxes with Harry and Ron.

"This is surely a dream", she quietly said to herself, her eyes already scanning the aisles of books that were laid before here. Shelves adjourned both sides of the room with several tables in between and a large fireplace in the center of the wall opposite them. It was beautiful. It was the kind of place generations of Malfoys took a lot of care to achieve their mass collection and she couldn't wait to get her little mudblood hands all over it.

"Do you like it?" she heard Abraxas ask behind her. Hermione turned and saw him smiling warmly at her, his eyes glinting with the knowing of what her answer was already going to be.

"I love it!" she exclaimed," Abraxas you should be so proud. This is really a dream come true."

He stalked towards her, and she was so busy admiring the books, Hermione didn't notice him until he was stopped in front of her. Her smile faltered slightly when her eyes connected with his. Abraxas Malfoy was looking at her with the same look he had when he first saw her at the dinner table. It seems it had been hiding under false friendly pretenses this entire time and she felt her guard going up slightly.

Stay calm. He hasn't done anything.

"I'm glad you like it Miss Vulpecula", he eyed her like a hawk, his smile revealing his white teeth," You are more than welcome whenever you'd like. If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to, but I'll return."

"Thank you", she smiled back, but it was strained," I'll be here."

Abraxas looked her over once more with a look that made her skin itch before turning and heading out of the library taking Hermione's anxiety with him. Before exiting he pivoted to face her once more," On the back far left table, there is a stack of books and papers. Just leave it all on there and don't bother with any of it, please."

Before Hermione could answer, he closed the large doors behind him. Hermione didn't doubt that his business had to do with one: Tom Riddle. Probably to snitch on her with everything she just said about the man, saying how he's pompous.

What a follower she snorted to herself. Draco would be disgusted. Casting aside thoughts of her friend and his overconfident grandfather, Hermione turned her attention to the books surrounding her as she headed further into the room. Her eyes slid to the table he told her about, ignoring it, the scent of books too strong to ignore. Fingers sliding over both worn and new spines of books, first editions that longed to be opened and devoured, series that begged to be plucked from their shelves and cracked open. She started pulling books from the shelves with titles that showed they were about dark magic and spells by the handful, not caring to remember where to put them back when she was done. There was too much work to be done.

It was only when Hermione's eyes started to strain did she realize how late it was and how dark the room had gotten. Her eyes were burning from the number of words she was taking in and she loved it. Looking out the window near her, the sun was past the horizon casting beams of its remaining sunset across the sky. How long had she been here? Looking around her, she was still alone, no Abraxas in sight. Had he forgotten her in here?

Surely, not.

He must have popped in at some point and didn't want to disturb her. Closing the book she had in front of her, she pushed her chair back and started to walk towards the door, passing the table he told her to ignore. Her eyes passed over the table as she walked past, and she stopped in her tracks. Turning to face table, she couldn't believe her eyes. All the books she needed were over here! She practically ran to the table and started to pick up the books, flipping through them, ruining the piles someone so had carefully made. Books about dark magic, magical rituals, and most of all, horcruxes. Abraxas must have been doing research for his master. As she was pouring over the books on the table, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, her heart in her throat, and her stomach now in her feet.

A small, black leather notebook.

Is this what she thought it was? With a trembling hand that was basked in candlelight, she started reaching for it carefully, her hand hovering over the notebook. It couldn't possibly be this easy, could it? Would Riddle really be so careless to just leave a horcrux so casually on a library table in someone else's home? It is the home of his most loyal follower, and she couldn't imagine Abraxas just let anyone in here. There was a fireplace though. Technically anyone could just floo in here.

Her shaking hand was still hovering over the notebook, her mouth dry as she considered all of this. Could she just grab it? This is why she was here. Hermione could practically hear Draco yelling in her ear to grab it and run home. Would it make her feel like the locket did? She didn't feel any hostility or darkness coming off the object, but who's to say all horcruxes feel the same? She had to grab it. Just grab it…

Just grab it!

"Hermione?" the doors opened to the library, Abraxas' voice floating into the room. With a steady hand she grabbed the notebook and quickly tucked it into the waistband of her skirt, pulling her shirt down over it to hide it. Hermione moved away from the table and tried to make it appear as she was walking towards the doors as Abraxas walked through them, a smile on her face.

"Forgive me, I have completely lost track of time." His pale face was illuminated in warmth from the candles and the fireplace that lit the large room, and he smiled wide enough to show all of his teeth.

"Oh, it's perfectly fine", Hermione forced a polite, tight smile. Would the notebook be outlined in her outfit? Would he notice?

"Did you get to all your business?" she asked, trying to keep the conversation casual and focused on him.

He nodded," I did. I hope my company didn't disturb you."

"Company?" her eyes widened. He had company over? That had to mean while she was here lost in beautifully orchestrated words, Tom Riddle was lurking around. Thank Merlin she didn't run into him. Hermione couldn't imagine what it would be like seeing him so soon after he kissed her with his foul mouth.

Abraxas smirked at her," You must have been really into your book if you didn't notice. Not to worry, I made sure no one would come in here and disrupt you."

"How lovely of you", Hermione gritted out through her clenched smile," I really have appreciated this experience Abraxas, but I must be getting home."

"Of course," he nodded," A shame I didn't get to spend more time with you. Would you be interested in getting dinner?"

Dinner? Alone with Abraxas Malfoy?

"Unfortunately, I do have early plans tomorrow morning and I am just so tired from reading for so long", Hermoine tried to make herself sound like a cliché airhead socialite exhausted from the having to actually use her brain reading. But Hermione knew she had to still get close to Riddle's posse which meant having to spend more time with the closest member, Abraxas Malfoy.

"Could I take a rain check?" Hermione smiled sweetly at him," I would just love to another time."

His smile seemed more leering and predatory at her eagerness to get dinner with him another time," Of course we can rain check." He grasped her hands.

"It would be my pleasure, any day you are free. Let me show you to the floo so you can head home", he guided her out of the library by her hand.

"Can't I just take that fireplace?" she gestured with her thumb to the library fireplace behind her that was still blazing. His smile faltered as he looked at the fireplace before casting his eyes down to her.

"That fireplace is only connected to one place", he explained," So unless you were heading there, it wouldn't work."

Hermione nodded and continued to let him lead her down the hallway and to her freedom. That had to be connected in some way to Tom Riddle. Was it to Riddle Manor? Was it in his own private home? Unless she knew the exact place, just yelling out "Tom Riddle's Home" wouldn't work.

Another mystery to solve.

"Here you are."

They approached the fireplace she had arrived in. Turning to face him, Hermione was alarmed Abraxas was standing much closer than she anticipated.

"I hope you had a nice time at my home, Miss Vulpecula", he emphasized on the 'miss'. Hermoine still hadn't told him her name or given him permission to use it. Would he read too much into their relationship if she did? She gave her first name to Riddle for Merlin's sake.

"Please, call me Hermione", she smiled at him, and her assumption was correct. His eyes focused on her lips and then back to her eyes at her reveal of her first name.

"Hermione", he smiled and said quietly," What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

He was leaning down towards her. It wasn't her imagination, and she felt a knot form in her stomach. She quickly turned her head to the side and his lips landed on her cheek. These damn Death Eaters need to keep their poisonous lips to themselves. Did she just have a sign hanging around her neck saying kiss me? As he retracted his lips, she could feel the wet spot they left behind. It took everything in her not to wipe it off in disgust and punch him in the mouth.

She turned her face to look at him and he seemed surprised at the turn of her head.

"I apologize if my actions were bold", he told her, his cheeky smile gone.

Hermione had to recover it quickly so he would want to keep inviting her to his library that had access to a hidden place and also books on everything she needed to study on how to kill him and his master.

"No, no it's not that", Hermione smiled and placed a hand on his upper arm. This is a comforting move right?

"I would just like us to get to know each other more."

Please buy my story.

Abraxas did. His smile returned and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"I understand. I look forward to us getting to know each other more", he bowed and kissed her hand," I look forward to our next time together."

Hermione landed in the public floo and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She had survived an evening at Malfoy Manor and lived to tell the tell. Even made it out with no new scars, she snorted to herself. As tempted as she was at uncovering the secrets the library had to offer, she was not chomping at the bit to go back anytime soon. Besides, she had a notebook burning a hole in her hip currently that required immediate attention. As she stalked home, the streetlights illuminating her way, she kept a constant vigilant look over her shoulder. Her instincts from living in war would never leave her. Hermione would always keep constant vigilance and always be on her guard. Her sweet little street had no threats to offer though. Every time she glanced around, she was met with empty spots on the sidewalk and streets.

Don't be so paranoid.

Unlocking her door, Hermione stepped into the dark room, closing the front door behind her, and leaned against it. Relief flooded her body. She was back in her safe flat, all of her protections and wards in place and no Death Eater lips anywhere in sight. Hermione kicked her shoes off and ran up the stairs to slam her bedroom door behind her and place her newly acquired item on her vanity. It still didn't give off the horcrux feeling the locket did, but she didn't trust anything when it came to Tom Riddle. She didn't want to open it and risk being sucked into it like Harry was their second year. She didn't recall if it was that the book wanted to suck you in or if it just automatically did it. And how would she get back? Would she be able to, or would only the book allow it? Hermione couldn't take that risk until she studied it more. Leaning on her vanity, she hung her head and sighed. At least she was one step closer to getting all of his horcruxes.

Raising her head, she rolled her neck and looked at herself in the vanity mirror. She looked tired and slightly ashy from the soot in the fireplaces. Her hands raised to start taking apart her updo when something caught her eye.

Red.

Something red was on her pillow.

Whipping around, every part of her flared. From her eyes, her nose, and every one of her senses. Everything was on high alert, her hair standing on ends, her breath caught in her throat like a chokehold.

On her pillow was a single red rose with a post underneath it, sealed with wax. She quickly shoved the notebook in her vanity drawer and sealed it with a spell, her wand clenched in her fist. Hermione quietly sidestepped to the edge of her bed and hissed Revelio over the flower and the note.

Nothing happened.

She poked at it with her wand and again, nothing happened. Keeping her wand within arms reach on her bed, she gingerly picked up the flower, turning it, avoiding the thorns that stuck out. Nothing seemed wrong and it smelled divine. It's flowery perfume filling her nostrils. She placed it on the bed next to her wand and with extreme caution picked up the folded note. Its wax seal showed a fox embedded in it.

Little fox.

Her cheeks burned. How the fuck did Tom Riddle get into her room? Into her house? This was her safe place! This was her haven from a world that Tom Riddle created in her own timeline. It wasn't bad enough that she finally escaped her nightmare reality in the future, but now he was tormenting her in the past. The image of him stalking in her home like a shadow through the night made her feel sick and extremely violated. He had been in her space, touched her things, been in her room. Seen where she sleeps and probably saw that damn red throw that he sold her on her sofa chair.

"That motherfucker", Hermione hissed. She ripped open the letter and saw his elegant handwriting scrawled across it.

You may hide in libraries, little fox, but you'll be caught.

You really should be much more aware of when you're being watched.

Like this flower, people are fragile.

Like whom you choose to spend time with.

Choose carefully.

That motherfucker.

xoxo