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mickume

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"Stop walking."

Malfoy stopped abruptly, whirling around to see who had spoken. He faced Tom, whose wand was directed at him. He made to reach for his pocket for his own. Lestrange’s eyes widened at the sight of Hermione, grim-faced like she had never seen before, and the latter’s wand pointed straight at her head.

"Do not draw on us," Tom warned.

Malfoy seemed for a second as if he wanted to defy Tom’s order, but he quickly thought better of it. Lestrange returned a sneer to Hermione. "What do you want?" Malfoy snapped.

Tom moved forward until the tip of his wand was touching Malfoy’s robes. He met Malfoy’s blue eyes with his own dark ones. "Lady Hermione was attacked in Hogsmeade today," he said. "While we were exploring a grove of trees, someone lurked in an alleyway for us and attacked her with extremely violent spells as we made our way back to Main Street. Do you know anything about it?"

Malfoy glared. "We had nothing to do with it! I saw you on the way to the village, Riddle. It wasn’t us."

"We know it wasn’t you," Hermione spoke up, glaring at Lestrange. "What he asked you is if you know anything about it." Tom shot an admiring look at her.

Lestrange swallowed and glared at Hermione, then at Tom—who, Hermione noted, focused suddenly on the girl’s eyes. "I have better things to do with my time than think about you," she spat.

"You are quite sure of that?" Tom pressed, his words hard. "You didn’t station anyone there? Either of you?" His gaze remained focused on Lestrange.

"What do you take me for? I certainly have servants at my disposal," she said arrogantly, "but my family’s magical vassals would not be willing to lurk in filthy alleys waiting for you to emerge from your tryst in a forest—"

Anger overtook Hermione, and she cast a hex at the girl. It struck home, and Lestrange grunted as the Stinging Hex dissipated over her body. Tom gave Hermione another admiring look.

"I don’t know anything about it," Lestrange got out.

Tom stared hard at her for another moment before turning to Malfoy. "What about you?" he snapped.

Malfoy quailed. "I didn’t know anything happened!" he exclaimed. "I swear I didn’t!"

Tom quickly released him. "Very well. You must understand, though, why we felt that we had to question you, given what Lady Adelaide did to her last fall." He lowered his wand, and Hermione followed his cue.

Malfoy quickly made to dart away, giving Hermione the odd mental picture of a white-furred rodent or other small animal scurrying to safety. Lestrange looked angry as she followed him, but she did not attempt to fight Tom or Hermione.

Tom quickly led Hermione back into the library to the same private spot they had used earlier in the afternoon to discuss the event. He gave her an admiring smile.

"That hex was impressive," he said. "You actually beat me to it."

"I was the one she insulted," Hermione said, a smile of her own playing at the corners of her mouth.

"True," he said. "It was still impressive, though." He smirked at her.

She colored faintly under his gaze, then met his eyes with hers again. "What do you think, then?"

"They were telling the truth." He said the words rapidly, emotionlessly, as if to get them out of the way and not dwell on them.

Her brow furrowed. "How do you know?"

"Hermione, do you know what Legilimency is?"

Her eyes popped. "Yes," she breathed. "I read about it when I was reading on my own... you can do it?"

He nodded proudly. "I’ve been able to do it for several months. I don’t consider myself a master, but I realized I had the ability, so I decided to cultivate it. They were telling us the truth... but that means that this was something someone else organized. And that is a problem."

She considered what he was saying. "Do you think it’s someone on the Wizards’ Council?"

"I don’t think it’s official at all," he said grimly. "I do wonder about Adelaide’s mother... she has a reputation... but it could be someone else. My mother has a former vassal family named Carrow, a brother and sister, that went to the Lestranges before she assumed the title. If they transferred their loyalties, the sister is another possibility. And then it could have been a witch assassin that someone hired." He scowled. "I wish we had apprehended whoever it was, or someone on that street had seen her face."

Hermione had no response to that.

"I wonder, now...." Tom trailed off, apparently changing his mind about whatever he was going to say.

Hermione did not let it pass. "You wonder what?"

He winced but plunged forward anyway, since she had called him out. "I wonder if maybe we should get married early, like this summer."

Hermione gazed at him in shock. She felt her cheeks becoming flushed again, but that was not going to influence her response to him. "What?" she exclaimed. "I wouldn’t be able to go to school if we did!"

"That’s the point. I am not sure you’re safe here. You could still learn, just under the tutelage of someone in my mother’s castle... perhaps Lord Severus."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Tom, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I want to get a full magical education. Lord Severus doesn’t seem to like me—"

"That’s just his way."

"I don’t want to do that," she said firmly. "I do want to marry you, but not now, and not this summer. I am sure that Lord Severus is a very intelligent wizard, but the greatest teachers of magic in Britain are here, at this school. Our parents did not mean for us to marry until after our education was finished. I am able to defend myself, as you saw this afternoon, and I’ll only become better at that as I learn more magic."

"That’s true," he admitted. "I just want you to be safe."

She leaned in. "I will be safe. I will be safer if I learn magic from the best witches and wizards that this country has."

"That’s true," he repeated. "I suppose you’re right."

"Besides, if we got married early, you would still be able to come to school here. I don’t want us to be separated, either."

He smiled. "All right. You make good points... but we’ll have to be careful."

"We’ll have to stick together."

"That’s not a burden."

Despite her discussion with Tom, Hermione was still dissatisfied with the situation regarding the attacker. Neither she nor Tom knew who was behind it, and she did not like not knowing. She recalled her family’s first introduction to the ruthless blood politics of the magical aristocracy. Even though her family and Tom’s had found and exploited a loophole, it was pretty clear to her that the lords of the Wizards’ Council couldn’t possibly be pleased with this. And, too, there’s the fact that I did not meekly accept Adelaide Lestrange’s shameful attack on me, she thought.

Hermione was aware that by standing up for her rights and dignity, she had made herself—and Tom—a target for the blood supremacists on the Wizards’ Council. They had significant power, whereas the Riddle-Granger alliance’s power consisted largely of a magical fortress. That would be useful as a shield of sorts; it severely limited the leverage that the Wizards’ Council had over Lady Merope to force her to do something she did not want to do. But it was almost all defensive power. Hermione had not seen any indication that Lady Merope had a force of wizards to wage an offensive against magical forces. Her late brother, who Hermione had gleaned was a disgraceful excuse for a lord, had apparently driven away almost all of their vassal families. The castle at Hangleton was a safe fortress, but it could not help defend and protect Hermione—or Tom—when they were not behind its magically reinforced walls.

This is a school, she thought. I have the right to be protected in my person while I study here. I should go to Master Slughorn or High Master Dumbledore with this. It’s not fostering, exactly, but our families have placed us in their care, and they are obligated to honor that trust and protect us from assassination while we are here.

Hermione knew by now that she could not trust in the honor of the likes of Lestranges and Malfoys, but she respected Slughorn—her Head of House—and the other professors. She had no reason to think that they scorned these most basic rules that governed civil society.

I’ll tell Slughorn, she resolved.

There was another matter to decide, and that was whether to get Tom involved. This was not actually an attack on him, she thought. These people may not have liked him, but they acknowledged his right to be at Hogwarts. He studied here for a year before we met. This is about me. I was the person attacked, and none of this began until my family asserted my rights. Besides, wizards see witches very differently to how Muggle men see women. I need to assert myself as a witch. I can tell Tom afterward, but I need to do this myself.

Hermione cornered Slughorn after Potions that Monday, urging Harry, Daphne, and Millicent to wait outside the room for her.

"Lady Hermione," the stout wizard said, "what can I do for you?"

Hermione’s gaze darted toward the door. It was closed. She took a deep breath and started to tell her story.

"At the last Hogsmeade visit, something happened," she began. "Lord Thomas and I had explored the edge of the forest a little—the patch behind the Three Broomsticks—and we decided to cut through the alley to return to the main street of the town."

Slughorn nodded.

"Well... in that alley, a witch jumped out and attacked me. Not Tom—Lord Thomas, that is—but me. She sent some spells at me, including one that started a fire when it missed me. I sent a Reductor Curse back at her, and it hit, sending her backward into the street... but her head was hooded, and no one saw who she was before she Disapparated."

Slughorn was gazing at Hermione with wide eyes and shock written in his face. "What are you—that is to say, do you think it was a student?"

"I don’t know. If it was, she was an older student. But the fact of the matter is this, Professor—it’s important for all pupils to be kept safe at Hogwarts. Since I was attacked by someone unknown, and you are my Head of House, I thought that you might start an investigation into the matter."

Slughorn paled slightly. "My dear young lady, I... you are right to say that... but I mean, it might be difficult if the perpetrator is, in fact...." He trailed off awkwardly, apparently unwilling to complete his thought in words.

Hermione thought she understood what he was going to say anyway. She gave him a hard gaze. "Professor, I understand the delicate political situation quite well. I realize that the lords of the Wizards’ Council do not approve of my attendance here, or quite probably my betrothal to the heir of an old wizarding family either—"

Slughorn blanched at this blunt description, but Hermione continued undeterred. "—but everything that our families have done is in accordance with the law, whereas unprovoked assassination attempts are not."

"That is very true," Slughorn muttered. Beads of sweat were forming on his brow.

"I am not asking any Master of Hogwarts to take a side in a private disagreement," she said, trying to sound more accommodating and reasonable. "But that is precisely why it’s so important to make inquiries about this. You would simply be investigating a threat to the safety of a student. Otherwise, whoever did it—or ordered it—will view Hogwarts’ inaction as taking their side."

Slughorn took a deep breath and wrung his hands anxiously. "You are quite right," he said. "I cannot promise that I will uncover the responsible party, but I will let High Master Dumbledore know this happened, and I will certainly try to find out if anyone in Slytherin House knows anything about it."

"I thank you," Hermione said daintily.

He lowered his voice as he said to her, "If the inquiries do uncover who arranged for it, I can’t necessarily act on that information, you understand. If it should turn out to be someone high in the Wizards’ Council...."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, weighing whether or not to tell him something. He was clearly not a very courageous man, she thought. He was intimidated by the lords of the Council. But she thought his heart was nonetheless in the right place and that he could be trusted with the information, so she decided to give it to him. "Lord Thomas and I did ask Draco Malfoy and Adelaide Lestrange if they knew anything about it. They did not."

His eyes widened even more.

"But it’s possible that someone among the older students might know, or even perhaps residents of Hogsmeade."

Slughorn wiped his forehead. "I am... glad that you and Lord Thomas did that, then, because it would have been awkward for a Master of Hogwarts to do so. But you may have a point about others. I will see what I can find out."

Hermione thanked him again and took her leave, feeling reasonably pleased with the conversation. Now she could tell Tom... or, rather, as soon as she saw him that evening.

They located a small, unused room on the ground level of the castle. It was not ideal long-term—far too close to widely traveled areas—but it would do for now. After dinner, Tom listened with growing displeasure as Hermione narrated the discussion with Slughorn. Finally she finished speaking and gazed at him, her eyebrows raised.

He sighed in frustration and ran a hand over the top of his head. "Hermione," he said, "I wish you had told me in advance."

Her face fell. "You don’t approve?"

"It’s just that things that affect you affect me too. I should have been there."

"It didn’t seem improper among wizards and witches," she said.

"I don’t mean impropriety in terms of you speaking on behalf of yourself. I mean that... I was there in Hogsmeade, Hermione. I defended you. We have this... arrangement...."

"That witch attacked me, though," she objected. "It was about me, and my presence here. You attended this school for a year without anything like this happening... at least that you ever told me about," she added sullenly, giving him a suspicious look.

He sighed again. "I was never attacked by an adult who obviously meant to kill me, no."

"There you have it, then. They—whoever on the Wizards’ Council ordered this—weren’t offended by your presence here." She paused, considering something else. "Do you think that Slughorn isn’t to be trusted?"

He shook his head. "I don’t think he is in league with the Council, if that’s what you mean. He just doesn’t seem like the type who would want to take any stand."

"I got that impression myself. I think I convinced him that it was about the safety of a pupil who had been placed in his care, though."

Tom scowled. "He probably won’t make a thorough investigation, though, for fear of stepping on the wrong toes and uncovering something that he really does not want to deal with. We may never know specifically who did that, or who ordered it... and when you think about it, it hardly matters. We know the lords of the Wizards’ Council and their families are adversaries. I’m sure they are responsible. What more do we need to know?"

"I’d like to know," she muttered, "for justice."

He chuckled darkly. "Good luck with that. There has been little justice in the wizarding community since Armand Malfoy stepped onto English soil. We used to have a deliberative body of wizarding lords and ladies—all the great families—but he dissolved that. My mother would have had a seat on it... and I might have too," he grumbled, "if the Gaunt family had more than one. But now it’s just the Malfoys, the Lestranges, and their toadies the Blacks."

They lapsed into silence. Hermione shot a quick glance at Tom while he wasn’t looking at her, hoping to determine if he really was offended at the fact that she had not told him in advance that she was going to talk to Slughorn. He did not seem to be angry with her.

"I don’t think I was wrong to tell Slughorn," she offered, "but I will consult with you first from now on."

He nodded silently. "We should know what is going on with each other."

Another silence, this one comfortable, fell. Hermione thought about what she had heard. The Malfoys... the Lestranges... and the Blacks.

"Does the Black family have anyone here at Hogwarts?" she asked.

He considered for a moment. "I see why you’re asking... but no, not anymore. Malfoy’s mother was a Black, but in terms of someone who bears the name... no. Of the present generation, there are only two sons. Sirius is the one who lives with Potter’s family. He was disinherited. He doesn’t have a wife or children... and his younger brother, the heir, Lord Regulus, does have a daughter, but she finished her education last year."

"Is she married now?"

"I don’t know. I remember that she wanted an apprenticeship, but it was very shocking—that’s why I remember. That’s just not done for someone of her status."

"Naturally not," Hermione agreed. "What was she like? Do you think she could have been the assassin?"

Tom considered. "I really doubt it. She did not seem interested in her family’s politics. She had a bit of a goofy streak, actually." A hint of scorn filled his words at that. "I doubt she was behind this... and as I said, it doesn’t really matter. We know who our enemies are. You just need to focus on staying safe."

She nodded in agreement, smiling. They had had a disagreement—a minor one, yes, but still a disagreement—and had discussed it civilly, with no insults exchanged or tears shed. Indeed, they had come to a consensus from the talk. It made her feel very warm towards him.

Tom seemed to be thinking the same thing. He leaned in, reaching out to her, and cupped her cheek with one hand. Her eyes fluttered closed as he pulled her to him and brought his lips to hers. A soft exclamation of joy escaped her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew in, deepening the kiss rather more intensely than any they had shared so far.

When they separated, his eyes were wide with surprise at what had just transpired. She smiled crookedly at him. It was a bit hard for her to believe as well, but so it was.

"We should get back to the common room before we’re missed," he said, the words seemingly fracturing the air into pieces—or breaking a spell. Hermione nodded her agreement, and they linked arms and headed down to the common room.

Once safely ensconced behind the password-protected doors of their bedchambers, Tom took out a sheet of parchment and began to compose a letter to his mother.