"Did she want him as badly as he wanted her?

Did she realize he was slowly going insane for wanting her?"

- Samantha Chase

Chapter 10: Dark Claws

Not until you're begging for it…

It had been several days since her night at Knockturn Alley's Dueling Club, and she had yet to receive a post, letter, or anything from one, Tom Riddle. It was making her both relieved and anxious. Anxious because she had zero idea what she was in store for and relieved because the less she had to spend time with him, the more she could think clearly. She knew what joining his ranks was like in her time. Lord Voldemort was cruel, vicious, and used the Unforgivable Curses like tissues against his Death Eaters for anything and everything. He wouldn't hesitate to feed someone live to his giant pet snake or let people filet each other alive. She doubted he was that sensile and psychopathic in this timeline, but it still made her anxious. That cruelty didn't come from nowhere. It lived under his skin always and it made her own skin crawl that so much evil and inhumanness could be in an actual person.

Their last interaction had replayed in her head like a bad song over the last few days, making sure to memorize everything that was said, how he looked, how he acted. Last night soaking in her bathtub, the feeling of his hands gripping her thighs tightly when he lifted her onto the table came seeping into the forefront of her memory and she felt a tug in her that had been lying dormant since her school years. It made her want to gag at first. It wasn't until thinking about his hands on her thighs, her eyes closed, her head leaned back enjoying that hot water, did she recall that there was a ghost trace of his fingers briefly tugging on her wand thigh holster. Her eyes had snapped open in realization of feeling excited about feeling his hands on her and she immediately shut those thoughts out of her mind. It had nothing to do with him. He was a monster, a murderer, and an actual psychopath. She knew all those things to be true. In her timeline.

In this timeline, he was all of those things as well. Maybe not to the same degree, but she knew it was where he was heading. But he was also fit. She finally admitted that to herself this morning over her morning coffee while she glared at the knife that was still embedded in her fence post. This was how he consumed people… She hadn't seen him in several days and yes, it was her mission to kill him, but he was all she thought about. And the more Hermione thought about him, the more she could feel herself starting to rationalize herself. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing? He would always be the monster, but she had to keep her wits about her. She had to act like she had no idea what his plans were and act naïve. Act charmed by him. And as hard as it was to admit it to herself:

Tom Riddle was attractive. Not his soul. What little of it there was left… Not his personality, but just physically. Hermione would be a fool not to acknowledge that when everyone else around her did. Harry had even said he looked like an average, attractive guy when he was younger. Hermione reasoned with herself that it was only a physical response to someone good-looking that she experienced. Nothing more. She could live with that because she knew it wouldn't lead to anything else. People were allowed to think other people were subjectively attractive and through gritted teeth and clenched fists, she knew in the back of her bushy-haired head, that he was her type. Physically her type, that is… Having finally made peace with her train of thought on the matter, a chime signaling a post had arrived made her jump.

Placing her cup down, she walked towards the envelope lying on the floor in front of her door and hesitantly picked it up. Was this her first assignment? Her first meeting? Was Riddle requesting her company?

To Miss Vulpecula

From the Office of Albus Dumbledore

Dumbledore?!

Her eyes went wide as she saw the Hogwarts crest in the upper right, Dumbledore's familiar handwriting scrawled across the front addressing the letter to her. Hermione's mind started racing a thousand miles an hour, her breathing coming fast, and she felt the room spin. Did he know who she was? How does he even know about her? Did he know who Tom Riddle was? Did he know her mission? Why now? She had just got invited into Riddle's inner circle just the other day and the Head of the Order was summoning her. This couldn't be a coincidence. She sat on the floor, drawing her knees to her chest and forced herself to take deep breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth to stop the panic attack she was experiencing.

With trembling fingers, she unfolded the letter:

Dear Miss Vulpecula,

Pardon my intrusion, but my name is Albus Dumbledore. I am Headmaster at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I heard of your talents and showmanship at the Dueling Club the other night and I was hoping to get together and discuss your future over tea at your leisure. Please write back with a location, date, and time if you are interested. I await anxiously and hopeful for your reply.

Warmest Regards,

Albus Dumbledore

Hermione placed the letter on her lap, her brows knitted together as she tried to gather her thoughts. How had Dumbledore heard of her dueling match? Was he there? She tried to think back at all the faces she saw and although remembering everyone would be impossible, Hermione was sure she would remember if she saw a younger Dumbledore in the crowd. It had to be through word of mouth. What could he possibly want to talk to her about? Just a catchup? Did he know about her connections to Riddle? Hermione knew from Harry that the two's relationship was extremely strained and full of hate. The hatred was more so from Tom Riddle's side, but everyone knew Dumbledore never trusted the boy, even when he was a student despite trying to connect with him at a young age. Harry had let Hermione look at Dumbledore's memories of meeting a young Tom Riddle at an orphanage through Harry's own memory and although he grew up to be the evilest wizard she knew, her heart couldn't help but break for the small child that clearly never experienced love or wanting in his life. Hermione surmised that it was through never experiencing love or guidance that Riddle never seemed inclined to fully trust Dumbledore or let him into his heart. There was the rumor among wizards and witches that children conceived under love potions could never experience love in their own lives, and although it had never been scientifically proven, Riddle posed as a strong as example of that being true.

Sighing deeply, she stood and walked over to her stationary to write back to her future Headmaster, deciding it was better to meet with the man than it was to not. She had to know what he wanted to talk to her about and to be honest, she thought it would be nice to see a familiar face, albeit even if it was much younger. As she wrote out her response telling him she would be free tomorrow afternoon for a late lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, a thought snaked its way into her brain wondering if she should let Riddle know she was having lunch with Dumbledore. Not that she was looking for his permission, but she was just recently invited into his good graces and Hermione wanted to desperately not rock the boat that Riddle was captaining. There were eyes everywhere in his society and she didn't want to take the chance of alienating herself in his eyes by meeting with his sworn enemy.

Sealing the envelope, she quickly went upstairs to dress for the day and to go to the owlery, knowing she was going to make a pitstop at a certain shop in Knockturn Alley. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that Riddle would be thrilled at her already showing loyalties to him and seeking him out on his turf for his "opinion" on whether or not she should meet with this mysterious headmaster and see what he has to say, because as far as Riddle knew, Hermione had no idea what Hogwarts was or who Dumbledore was. What a fine line she was trying to tread…

Hermione kept her eyes forward as she stalked through the dim alley towards Borgin and Burkes, hoping that this journey wasn't for naught, and Riddle would be working. She ignored the beckoning hands of hags and wizards that either wanted her money or her and walked with purpose. She was a little anxious to see Riddle after not hearing or seeing him after three days. Approaching the door, she lowered her hood and stepped through the door, the bell chiming as she did. Immediately she spotted Riddle standing behind the counter. He was holding a silver bowl that was lined with gems and polished until it gleamed. He was eyeing it carefully, tilting it one way and another. Hermione thought it looked like he might be appraising it because the wizard standing in front of him was fidgeting nervously. Of course, the wizard could be fidgeting because of who Tom Riddle was. He was wearing an all-black suit that contrasted with his pale skin remarkably well and made his black hair and black eyes stand out even more. The Gaunt ring on his left index finger and a gold tie clip that looked like a snake kept catching the light whenever he moved.

At the sound of the door shutting, Riddle's eyes looked away from the bowl and at Hermione, who in return offered a small, awkward smile and a small wave. His face was blank and his eyes wide as he took her in. Hermione decided that was his surprised face. She quickly turned, pretending to peruse the shelves to let him finish with his customer in front of him.

Hermione heard Tom tell the man," I can offer 5 galleons."

"What?" the man replied, clearly unhappy with the offer," That's a family heirloom! It's worth at least 11 galleons."

From her peripheral, she saw Riddle place the bowl down, with some slight force hearing the metal clang against the counter surface.

"If it's so precious, you are more than welcome to bring this elsewhere. There is nothing to this besides it just looking pretty", Tom told the man, waving carelessly at the bowl like it was nothing," It's neither cursed nor enchanted. And 5 galleons can buy an awful lot of elixirs which is what you are actually here for, isn't it?"

Hermione's mouth hung open at Riddle's boldness to assume that the man had an elixir addiction, but upon closer inspection, she knew he was right. The wizard was sweating through his robes and was shaking. The man's heavy breathing was the only sound that filled the room. He quickly nodded his okay and Tom grabbed a ledger, writing something down quickly, opening the register and dropping galleons into the man's shaking hand. He quickly drew up his hood and stalked out of the shop, accidentally hitting Hermione's shoulder on his way out.

"Sorry, missus", he grumbled, and Hermione got a better looked at him. He looked sick and his eyes were empty. She felt saddened by the wizard that was now stalking down the street, following a hag into a nearby nook in the alley.

"I'm sorry you had to see that", she felt Riddle come up behind her. Turning, she looked up at him and was relieved to note that his face looked pleasant to see her.

"It's fine", she shook her head, her curls bouncing as she did so," I just feel bad for him."

"For him?" he looked incredulously at her," Feel bad for his family he's letting down."

Hermione sighed, her empathetic self-starting to come through," Addiction is a hard thing to live through, Tom. He's clearly struggling."

"His addiction is a choice", Tom declared, his face dead serious as he pointed the way the man walked," He walked in here. He sold a family heirloom for practically nothing for a quick fix. I would never feel bad for a man who so willingly places himself in bad situations."

"Seems calloused", Hermione shrugged, trying to switch the subject.

Tom smiled like a shark," You are more than welcome to hunt him down and offer to help him. I'm sure he'd rob you blind while doing so."

"Maybe you could give him pointers on how to break into my home", she retorted, her lips rising into a smirk, trying to make light of a situation that still really pissed her off. But she needed him in a good mood.

Tom's face broke into a smile, a genuine smile and Hermione begrudgingly decided it made him even more attractive.

"Touche", he laughed. He smiled at her as he stepped a foot closer into her space," So, what did I do to have pleasure of you visiting my shop today, little fox? Miss me?"

"Hardly", Hermione scoffed, and Riddle smirked wider," I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about. Something I am unsure about."

Riddle immediately straightened, his brows furrowing as he turned serious," Is everything okay?"

Hermione was slightly surprised at how stern and serious he turned at her mentioning of her uncertainty.

"Yes, I think so", Hermione shrugged, trying to seem as naïve as possible as she reached for her response to Dumbledore," I received a post today from someone I don't know. An Albus Dumbledore? I wrote my reply, but wanted to maybe ask your opinion before sending it off to see if it's a good idea to meet for tea since you seem to know everyone. Do you happen to know this man?"

Throughout her explanation, Riddle's eyes switched from initial concern to black thunderstorms at the mention of Dumbledore's name. His body language was now tense, and Hermione saw his jaw tick.

"Has he ever contacted you before?" Riddle gritted out, going to great lengths to keep his face impassive.

Hermione shook her head quickly.

"No, not at all. He said he is the headmaster of some school."

"What did the letter exactly say, Hermione?"

"Oh, I have the letter here", she said sweetly as she held the folded note out for him to take. He immediately took it from her hand, his eyes scanning quickly at the words of the paper. He didn't reply immediately as he lowered the letter. Hermione could see the thoughts swimming behind his eyes and would have done anything to know what was going through his head. Probably thoughts similar to hers earlier. Like if Dumbledore knew the two of them, Hermione and Tom Riddle, knew each other.

"Tom?" Hermione interrupted whatever thought train he was on," Is everything okay?"

He immediately composed himself at the mention of his name and he turned towards her, a new look in his eyes that Hermione was not sure if she liked what it could mean.

"Actually, yes", he said," This is very good, little fox. Very good, indeed. You did very well to come to me with this first."

He smiled at her, pleasure in his voice at his happiness of her seeking out his approval first. She knew he would, she smirked to herself as she tried to avoid the feelings of warm satisfaction at him praising her.

"I would like you to go to this tea with Dumbledore and then report back to me immediately afterwards", he instructed her.

Shocker…

"Really?" her eyes widened," Is this unsafe or something? You're making me nervous."

His eyes flashed with hunger at her admitting her nervousness. He stepped closer and Hermione tried to avoid the feelings she felt as he held her face in his hands," I would never place you in harm's way little fox. This is perfectly safe. There is just a lot of history with this person, and I can't be too careful with who my inner circle interacts with. You understand?"

Hermione nodded quickly and stepped out of his hands quickly, jerking her chin, earning a knowing smirk from Tom in the process.

"I will let you know at my soonest availability after my meeting with him", Hermione told him and made her way towards the exit," Do you have an address I can send a post to, so I don't have to come back down here?"

"And deny me a visit from my favorite little fox?" Tom teased her," I will leave a post with an address at your home later this evening. Send it there, it'll get back to me."

And without another word, he turned and went back to his counter, dismissing her. With relief, she immediately headed out of the shop and quickly out of Knockturn Alley, not bothering to look for the elixir addict on her way out.

Tom Riddle's dark magic hummed within him as he watched his little fox walk out of the shop, pulling her hood up over her curls as she did so. She didn't bother to look back at him, always keeping her eyes forward. He tapped his long finger that held his horcrux against the countertop as he thought over her visit.

So, the old man wanted to meet his latest recruitment… The note said he heard about her duel and wanted to discuss it with her. What Dumbledore could possibly want to discuss was beyond Tom and he knew it was just an excuse for some other scheme. The thought made Tom's dark magic hum around himself at the prospect of his old Headmaster trying to sway his latest, talented find. He found Hermione. He was going to mold her into his perfect Death Eater. He was going to dominate her.

Tom knew his obsession with her was turning more into just a passing fancy. Her dueling the other night squashed that thought. The memory of her being merciless, casting a curse he had never heard before that surely would have killed that oaf Dolohov had she not saved him made his fingernails dig into the counter. But he was done chasing her. He was willing to bet he was the only thing his little fox thought since they had last seen each other. Her coming here was proof enough of that and when her cheeks blushed at him telling her she did a good job for coming to him before sending her reply…

What a little slut for praise he smirked to himself.

He had to think quickly. Tom knew he couldn't very well tell her no without explaining why he wouldn't want her to see Albus Dumbledore. How the man always saw past Tom's charm and manipulation… How the man's blue eyes always seemed to see Tom's soul and the darkness it contained. Their big falling out always being that Dumbledore could never prove it was Tom that was behind Moaning Myrtle being killed and Tom knew it ate at the man.

Good.

There were more murders where that came from, and Tom's ultimate goal would always be his Headmaster. Dumbledore would make a beautiful horcrux. It practically made Tom's mouth water at the thought. But how was someone like Tom Riddle ever going to get close enough to Albus Dumbledore to make that happen? And here comes a solution dancing into his life like a waltz:

His little fox.

Tom could feel his lips pulling into smile, the plans he had been wanting to enact coming into fruition. The girl would meet Dumbledore. See what the old man wants from her and report back to him. He could feel himself wanting to sink his dark claws into her soul.

And the more his claws would sink, the more he saw himself sitting on this throne in the end with her at his feet.

Due to personal life, I will not be able to update probably for a couple of weeks, but that doesn't mean it won't come! Just wanted to give a heads up. Thank you for reading and will update as soon as I can!

xoxo