Riddle Her This

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Tom Cat

Tom led Hermione down to the Slytherin Common Room. She looked at the entranceway and noticed that she looked pale, and sick. She looked at Tom. She gulped and squared her shoulders. And then, she smiled.

“I wish that, well,” Hermione began.

“What do you wish, Hermione?” Tom asked. “Remember, this is a school of Magic, here, wishes do come true.”

Hermione nodded and laughed. Tom found he was liking her more and more; there was something infectious about her. He could tell that she would annoy him, but at the same time she would just get under his skin and she would obsess him. He could not love, and that was his least favourite emotion, but this girl could, and she would love HIM, and that thought made him proud, whatever feelings he would have for her, she would have them double for him. He would have to stake his claim on her, but how?

“I wish, sometimes, that we could all just get along,” Hermione sighed. Tom studied her profile. And he sighed. She still needed some changes to her personality, but the fact that she would forever be surrounded by Slytherins, and that the influences would soon seep into her skin and change her attitude soon enough. She shivered. Tom put an arm around her shoulders.

“This maybe the place where wishes can come true, Hermione, but not every dream is possible in reality.”

“I suppose so,” Hermione conceded.

“Now, do not be offended by the password,” Tom said, “just bear in mind that this is Slytherin,” he turned towards the door. “Mudblood!”

The door swung open, and Tom led Hermione down a spiral staircase, going further towards the depths of hell. She cringed away from the lichen-covered walls, and the damp stonewall glistened because of the faint firelight glowing in the sconces that were set half way up the wall.

“It does take a while to get used to it,” he said. “Many first years actually bristle, but there is something soothing about the wall, and being against the stone wall on a hot summers day can actually be quite soothing.”

“I can imagine,” Hermione said. It was far from a warm summers day.

“Tom!” A woman squealed. “Is it true? Do we have a new member?”

“Yes, we do, Greta. We do have a new member,” Tom said quietly.

Greta? That was the name of Sirius’ mother, and her voice in real life was not that much different from the painting.

“Tom,” she said in a wheedling voice, “why don’t you come and see me anymore?”

“You are much better suited to Augustus Black,” Tom said. “How is your relationship with him going?”

“Oh it’s perfect,” Greta gushed, and Hermione’s knees were knocking at the thought of meeting Sirius mum. In the flesh, and as a young woman her age.

“Good, I want to see the two of you married one day. The both of you come from very fine family’s.”

Hermione turned around the corner and she continued her gaze at Tom, as she had become sort of dependant on him.

“I am tired, Tom,” she said faintly. “I believe that I have today to myself, to get used to the situation.”

“Yes, I believe you have,” Tom said. “Greta, this is Hermione Granger.”

Greta scoffed at the surname.

“What’s a mudblood doing here?”

“I can assure you, Greta, that she is not like all the other Mudbloods, she has something, and the hat put her in Slytherin. I predicted this to be the case.”

Hermione squeezed his hand, and then she stole away quietly, as she spotted a spare seat and sat down on it. Soon after Abraxus Malfoy came down from the dormitories, swaggering along the way, he arched his eyebrow, as he spotted Hermione, he then skipped over to her and sat down beside her.

“Congratulations, I see Tom has done it again. I think we should just stand him in front of the little brats at the sorting ceremony and he can tell them where they belong.”

“The hat had to be convinced, it was scared I would not be treated right,” Hermione said.

“Oh, you’ll get the best of care here, if not Tom will flay us,” Abraxus said. He stretched and yawned.

“Didn’t you sleep well last night?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Abraxus said, as he winked cheekily at her. “Tonight I will though.”

“Why?”

“Well, there’s a new girl,” Abraxus said. “And she’s not bad looking.”

Hermione blushed. She didn’t want to hide, but his comment made her feel that perhaps she should tighten the chastity belt. Tom strode up to Hermione, and she smiled up at him. He breathed a huge sigh of relief, and he sat down. Abraxus was probably his rival when it came to women’s affections, except that Abraxus did know love, unlike Tom.

“I think you’ll find, Abraxus, that Hermione is spoken for,” Tom whispered softly, sitting the other side of her.

Hermione didn’t know what to make of this. She was now caught in the middle of these two absolutely wonderful looking wizards. Tom showed the other wizard what he meant by putting an arm around Hermione’s shoulders. Hermione just could not believe this. She resisted the urge to snuggle. One did not snuggle up to a Dark Lord, now matter how young, and gorgeous he was.

Tom had squeezed Hermione’s shoulder, and then he got up and sighed.

“Bloody great,” he moaned.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Transfiguration with that – that pathetic excuse of a Professor,” he kissed the back of Hermione’s hand and walked up the stairs. She was left alone with Abraxus.

“So,” Abraxus said, in a more brotherly tone. “I think you can tell that Tom hates Dumbledore, and Dumbledore hates Tom.”

“Yes, I got that, do you know why?” Hermione asked.

“I thought that was perfectly obvious, Dumbledore treats Tom like he’s a first year, always reminding him of the school rules. Yet, he’s a hero. He saved the school last year from being shut down, a girl was murdered, and he caught the culprit. The culprit, a half giant student called Hagrid, was expelled. Of course, because Hagrid’s a Gryffindor that didn’t sit too well with Bumble, and he arranged it so that Hagrid could be trained to be a Hogwart’s Games keeper.”

“You think Dumbledore’s playing favourites?” Hermione asked, she had a frown on her face.

“Oh, definitely! He catches a Slytherin and a Gryffindor in trouble, and guess what happens, the Slytherin gets points taken off his house, and the Gryffindor’s get away with it. Hermione, I am telling you, he hates Slytherins, and would let one of his golden Gryffindor’s get away with murder! And he has!”

Hermione didn’t like this personality take on a man she considered well nigh perfect. They must be wrong. Albus Dumbledore was a man who believed in fairness, and justice, after all, he gave Severus Snape a second chance, didn’t he? Yes, an evil voice said inside her head. But, he also let Sirius and Remus get away with almost killing him when they were at school. So, perhaps Abraxus does have a point.

“He seemed all right to me yesterday,” Hermione said.

“Huh,” Abraxus huffed. “That was yesterday, when you were neutral. Now you’re a Slytherin, and, well, you’ll see if he continues to like you now.”

“That does seem awfully unfair,” Hermione said.

Abraxus chuckled, as he put a comforting hand on her leg and squeezed it slightly.
“No one said life was meant to be fair,” Abraxus said.

“I suppose so,” Hermione said. She turned to look into Abraxus’ blue eyes. So much like Draco it was unbelievable, she was hoping against hope that there would be no more shocks, and then Greta came up to them, and Hermione finally looked at the girl that had assaulted Tom when he entered.

“I am Greta,” she said, “I am sorry, it’s just second nature. But, if Tom likes you, then that’s good enough for me.”

Hermione’s mouth hung open. Stood before her, was a female version of Sirius Black, and she was as pretty, as he was handsome. She had lovely, silky wavy locks of true black hair, and twinkling silvery grey eyes, and her complexion was flawless.

“I am Hermione,” Hermione said. “I do not understand why Tom thought I’d make a good Slytherin though.”

Greta’s laugh was as silvery as her eyes.

“Yes, Tom has that knack.”

Tom was standing just up the stairs, listening to everything that Abraxus had said to her, and he was now smiling with glee at Greta’s friendliness. This strange new girl had to be shown a thing or two. He had looked inside her mind on the train yesterday. And what he saw chilled him. He saw what was obviously the future, and she was mixed up in his life somewhere along the way as an enemy. That would not do! If she ever did manage to get back to her time, which he rather hoped she didn’t, then she would return an ally, and friend. She would return to him!

“But, as you so rightly pointed out,” Hermione began, “I am a Mudblood!”

“Yet, here you are, I daresay Slytherin would handpick you himself, as has Tom,” Greta said. “So, has he kissed you yet?”

Hermione smiled and leant back on the couch, she turned to Greta, her eyes sparkling full of mischief.

“Yes,” she sighed. “He has.”

“Oh good, then that makes you one of us,” Greta said. “And as one of us, that means we don’t have to keep secrets from each other.”

“What is ‘us?” Hermione asked.

“Us,” Abraxus said. “We are The Covenant. That’s a working name for something much better. But, it’s what we are. The Covenant of the Snake.”

“For men to be a part of us, he gives them a gift. For women, he kisses them. And sometimes, if a kiss doesn’t satisfy him, then he asks for more.”

Hermione blushed, he had already hinted that he wanted more; by more she knew that he wanted a night or two of pleasure.

“Come on Ab, Greta, we have to be at Bumble’s class before he has an excuse to take more points off Slytherin. I want that bloody cup this year, just to wipe that smug look off Potter’s face!”

Hermione winced, and she could just imagine Severus saying the same thing years later, and Draco saying the same thing in her time. She slunk down in her seat. No wonder Slytherins hated her. It appears that she really had joined the golden house, the house that could do no wrong. The house that could get away with murder, and Slytherins couldn’t. Slytherins never won anything, she could actually feel a little bit sorry for them. It was with a little shame that Hermione felt so proud of being Gryffindorian. If she did get back in her time, she’d make sure she’d become a decent and fair Headmistress. After this experience, she could no longer do what she wanted. She’d praise where praise was due, and condemn and punish, no matter WHAT or WHO the perpetrator was.

Hermione got up off the sofa and straightened her robes.

“Where do I go to freshen up?”

“I’ll show you,” Greta said. “Just tell Sparkles that I’m showing Hermione around, and if that little Miss Perfect Know-It-All McGonnagal tries anything… I’ll be there!”

Hermione cringed at the nickname that applied so often to herself, and then she looked at Greta. She was certainly prettier than Pansy Parkinson, so it could not be her. She was more of a Bellatrix. So, this was where Bellatrix got her lovely hair from.

“Thank you, Greta,” Hermione said.

Greta walked up the stairs and she opened a door.

“You can have the bed by me,” Greta said. “And then we can have all sorts of fun.”

Hermione smiled at Greta. She walked up to the bed, and saw to her surprise and delight that there were robes laid out for her on the bed, and the hat and scarf in Slytherin colours. She then spun Hermione around and she walked through the door.

“This leads to the bathroom,” Greta said. “You look like you can do with a long soak in the bath. And then, perhaps we can sneak some food from the kitchens. You wouldn’t believe the look that the Gryffindors have when they steal food. Like they’ve done something naughty,” Greta rolled her eyes. “Anyway, they’re morons, the House Elves give you the food anyway, it’s no big thing. Yet, they think that it’s really big and brave of them.”

“Idiots,” Hermione said, as she started to laugh. Even if she were a Gryffindor in another time, she had to admit that Greta had a point. It was no big thing to steal from the kitchens, even Ron conceded that once.

“Precisely,” Greta said. “Anyway, I’ve got to go.”

“Have fun,” Hermione said.

“Oh, I will. McGonnagal and I have this rivalry going way back.”

Hermione smiled at Greta and then Greta walked out of the room, and then she turned around, as her stomach was churning on the inside. She felt odd standing here, and she looked at all the beds, and she sat down on hers. She took her tie off, thanking whomever it was that changed the logo and the school uniform between now and her time.

She then unbuttoned her blouse and her skin developed goosebumps from the instant cold air that hit her flesh. She shivered and walked around the bed, and she was just about to unzip her skirt when she felt someone else do it for her.

“Did you miss me?”

“Tom?”

“Of course,” Hermione turned around and looked up into his dark glowing eyes. He pushed the zip down and he rubbed her arms up and down with his fingernails. He blew on her neck and she shuddered.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked.

“Professor Dippet has asked me to make sure you are ready for an attendance, you’ll need to get your books, and uniform. You can’t be at this school without them. Although, certain females might be better looking WITHOUT the uniform.”

Hermione swatted his arm lightly.

“Sure,” she said sarcastically. “So, who has opted for that task?”

“McGonnagal,” Tom said in a bored voice. “I think she just wants to see if you’re all right. Are you all right?” He asked, as his voice dropped to a dangerous level. He kept his eyes on hers and then he prowled forward with catlike grace. She moved back and stumbled and fell on the bed. He looked down at the sight, and he smirked. He rubbed her sides up and down with his hands, and her body reacted to his warm, marvellous touch.

“Yes, yes I am all right,” Hermione answered, her voice hissing.

“Good,” Tom purred. He rubbed his hand on her stomach and laid one side of her on the bed. He bent down and kissed her bellybutton. “I love the bellybutton. It’s rather cute I think,” he licked it and then ran his tongue further up her body, as she moaned he climbed on top of her.

“They are rather,” Hermione murmured. She looked back up into his smouldering gaze. All this was for her.

“Tell me, what you’re going to say to McGonnagal?” Tom asked.

“That I feel that I made the right decision,” Hermione began. Tom kissed a nipple that was hardening on contact. “And that I feel happy where I am.”

“Good sweet Hermione,” Tom murmured. He slid off her and then he helped Hermione up, and smirked with glee at the look of disappointment on her face.

“That was good,” she pouted.

“Alas, sweetest Slytherin, I cannot please thee with my ministrations, for thou art to be expected at the court of King Dippet.”

Hermione giggled. She was sure that Harry would have said something like that. Hmm, perhaps the hat had got it right. Perhaps Harry would have made a brilliant Slytherin.

“Very well, my Lord, it shalt be so. But tell me when thou canst finish thy pleasurable ministrations?”

“Not too far from the time, my dear Lady, now to the bath thou must go.”

Hermione clapped her hands girlishly and skipped to the bathroom, as Tom watched with eagerness. He knew her heart already. She was easily charmed, and he knew exactly how to charm her. Perhaps, if she was a good little wench, he might even marry her… in her own time, when she got back to her own time.

~*~*~

Armando was slightly troubled he had to admit. It seemed that this girl knew things, and he didn’t like the idea of girls popping into carriages when they weren’t supposed to, he also didn’t like the feeling the girl gave him. She recognised him, and he didn’t recognise her, and that bothered him. He was strolling around his spartan office and picked up a parchment. It was obvious the girl had no luggage or books, so that had to be sorted. Albus had walked into the room.

“How did Seventh Year Transfiguration go?” Armando asked.

“Tom did not attend, again.”

“Ah, yes that is because I sent him ahead to give a message to Miss Granger,” Armando replied.

“Oh,” Albus said. “I suppose he could catch up anyway. Miss Granger, too.”

“Under the special care of Tom, she’ll achieve things beyond,” Armando said wisely. “He has a knack that boy. Whatever he wants to be, he will become.”

Albus was about to leave when the door opened and Tom walked in with a fresh-faced Hermione.

“Ah, Miss Granger, sit down,” Hermione sat, and Tom sat beside her. “On Saturday it is vital that you get the things required, as Miss McGonnagal has just informed me that you arrived with just the clothes on your back, and your wand.”

Hermione nodded.

“That is correct, sir.”

“You will be under the watchful eye of Horace Slughorn and Albus Dumbledore,” Armando continued.

“Yes, sir,” Hermione answered meekly. “But, sir, how am I to pay for these items?”

“Oh, don’t worry, the school provides for orphans. I trust that is what you are?”

Hermione did not trust herself to reply. Neither her mother or father were born yet, so yes, she supposed she was an orphan.

“Yes, sir, I am an orphan.”

“Me too,” Tom said. “Another thing we have in common, Hermione.”

“And, as you can see, Mr Riddle is not without,” Armando said.

“No, sir, he certainly isn’t,” she replied, casting a quick look at Tom, who had an evil smirk on his face.

Professor Dumbledore caught the look and his eyes narrowed.

“Might I have a private word with Miss Granger?” Albus asked.

Hermione looked uncertainly at Albus. She nodded her head, whatever the others thought of him; he was still a great wizard. Tom got up and gave a cold look towards Albus, and Albus returned one just as chilly. Armando vacated the office for a little while.

“What is it, sir?” Hermione asked.

“I do not know what Tom is doing to you, Miss Granger, but I can tell you that there are better men than him. And, despite what the hat said yesterday, you are no Slytherin.”

“Because of my blood?” Hermione asked tersely.

“No, that is not a concern to me. But your eyes, Miss Granger, you have kind eyes. And you seem very warm and approachable. Young Hagrid could not believe it when he was told. It was almost as if you had broken his heart. Mr Riddle, well, I will let you make up your own mind about him, but let me just tell you that when I first met him, he did not seem all right, a normal eleven year old would have jumped at meeting me, but not him. He did not bat an eyelid, and I have never seen him cry about his situation either.”

“Perhaps he feels that tears won’t bring either of his parents back, and so why bother?” Hermione suggested. She knew that Dumbledore had every right to say what he had to say, but she was a Slytherin now, and she was from 55 years in the future. She could not tell anyone where she truly came from. She thought of the butterfly effect, and did not want that to happen.

“I am just trying to warn you, Miss Granger, what sort of thing you have let yourself in for.”

Believe me Professor, I know, Hermione thought to herself. She just wished that if this was some nightmare then perhaps she could wake up, right about now! She got up and took Albus hand, and she shook it.

“Thank you, Professor, for caring.”

Albus smiled.

“Who knows,” Albus sighed. “Perhaps, this is just a foretaste of things to come, eh?” He then produced a bag of sweets. “Liquorice?”

Hermione dipped her hand in the bag and took out one of her favourites and popped it in her mouth. She then walked out of the office, and Tom got up from the seat he was sitting on, waiting for her.

“What did the old fool want?” Tom asked.

“He was just trying to warn me, he wanted me to be careful. He was trying to warn me against you.”

Tom then shoved Hermione up against a wall; she felt his anger and fury, as it shuddered throughout her body. He then placed his lips on hers, as he kissed her roughly, and harshly. Not letting her breathe until his frustration was spent.

“What did you say?” he asked, in a breathless voice after the kiss.

“I let him think that I was listening to him, I thanked him for caring,” Hermione said.

“Good,” Tom said, he sighed with relief. “Come on, let’s get to the kitchens shall we?”

Hermione smiled and Tom took her hand. He led her down to the kitchens, and he scratched the portrait. Hermione saw all the House Elves scurrying about the place. They beamed with pleasure, as they saw the handsome Mr Riddle, with a new lady. They knew that this new lady was Mr Riddle’s latest conquest.

“Sits here,” one said. Tom led her to a seat. “What can we gets you?”

“Whatever the lady wishes, let it be served,” Tom said.

Hermione blushed furiously. She looked away from Tom’s happy smile. She was led to believe that Tom Riddle didn’t know how to be happy.

“May I have some sausage, bacon, eggs and tomato’s please?” She asked.

Tom laughed.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“A little,” Hermione said.

~*~*~

Elsewhere in the Castle Albus Dumbledore was in his office, and he was expecting Miss McGonnagal, he was going to talk to her. A very serious talk. He could no longer hide his feelings, and he was going to explain them very carefully to her. He could get the sack for this, or worse… but he could not help his feelings. And he was certainly not the first teacher to end up head over heels with a student. Of course, it doesn’t follow through that she feels the same, yet.

“You wanted to talk to me, sir,” Minerva walked into the office of the man she admired the most, and had a bit of a crush on.

“Please take a seat, Miss McGonnagal.”

Minerva gulped. She knew she had done nothing wrong, so why did he look so grave? She bowed her head, waiting to hear whatever it was he had to say.

“What is it, sir?” she asked, when it seemed like forever for him to say anything.

“What I have to say could jeopardise everything I have ever longed for, and it could ruin your future career.”

“What is so monstrous?” Minerva said.

“Miss McGonnagal,” Albus exclaimed. “I am soon to go in search of an evil Dark Lord called Grindelwald, but before I go, there is something that I must tell you.”

Minerva gasped, as she jumped up off her seat.

“You can’t go in search of him,” she said. “He’s sure to kill you, sir!”

“And why do you care so much if I live or die, Minerva?” Albus asked, in a voice broken with hope and despair at the same time.

Minerva blushed at her teacher’s use of her first name.

“I love you,” she said. “I know you’re old enough to be my grandfather, possibly more, but I don’t care!”

“I love you, too,” Albus mumbled softly.

~*~*~

“Thank you, Abraxus and Greta,” Tom whispered. Hermione was sleeping, curled up like a cat on the sofa, her head resting on his lap. He began to absently stroke her hair. “That would be very useful information if he tries anything again. Oh, and Greta, he’s trying to poison Hermione against me. Make sure that you take care with her, I know you.”

“Master, I like her myself, for I have seen what you have seen.”

Tom smiled and leant back, and he let his grin spread wide across his face. He loved it when they called him Master, for that is what he will be to them, Master, and Lord! He looked down at the girl sleeping in his lap. He was also, if he played his cards right, going to be a husband to a fine witch. He had to find out when she came from, and what she knew of his future, and then send her back there. But, before that, he had to make sure she would seek him out.

“Good, now, bow before me!”

Greta and Abraxus knelt before him, and he patted their heads. He gently shook Hermione awake and Greta got up.

“I don’t think I can walk, I am so tired,” Hermione grumbled.

“I’ll support you,” Greta said.

Greta led Hermione to their dormitory and she laid Hermione on the bed, she then walked to a chest of draws by her bed.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked.

“Finding a spare night robe for you,” Greta said. “Oh, and we might have something on Miss Know-It-All.”

“Oh, what?”

Greta let a small, slow grin spread across her face.

“It seems that her and Sparkles are conducting a relationship, as we speak!”

Hermione was suddenly wide-awake. She grabbed the night robe and got herself dressed. She had no idea that her Transfiguration Mistress, and Head of House was in love with her Headmaster… although, she mused, it did explain a lot.

A/N I am writing Dumbledore as a man, and a human being, so he makes mistakes, and likes pretty young women... I happen to like the idea that MM/AD were secretly married. Anyway what do you think? Please review.