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Masters of Manipulation	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 28506 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Masters of manipulation

This chapter is dedicated to Magick for inspiring me to write about a certain event in the HP-fanfic universe. The actual event will come to completion in chapter 16.

Chapter twelve

And so they arrived, back from where and when they came, sent home by the Dark Lord himself. Only his current persona did not seem at all pleased about that. Tom Riddle was considerably pissed off, and he looked like he definitely needed someone to vent his anger at. Unfortunately for him, he had not swallowed any Invigoration Draught in 1981. And when he raised his wand with the intention to hex Hermione Granger to hell and back again, the world started spinning uncontrollably, his vision went blurry, and he almost crashed to the floor, but he was able to grab a hold of the statue beside him to prevent that humiliating experience from happening. So here he was, desperately trying to hold on to some form of dignity, while his nausea commanded another puking session of his already completely emptied stomach.

'You should drink this. It helps,' Hermione said calmly.

He snatched the bottle that was held out before him from her hand.

'You're welcome,' Hermione answered ironically to the non-offered thank you, wondering why at all she was sacrificing her last bottle of Invigoration Draught to Mister Nice over there, when she noticed he was looking at it suspiciously.

'It's not poisonous,' Hermione said, amused by the thought.

She had already scrambled back to her feet, feeling a lot less bad than the two previous times she had travelled this way. And she was eyeing her surroundings curiously. They had not re-entered at the Astronomy Tower, but they were undoubtedly in Hogwarts. She saw the Slytherin banner that hang on the wall. She noticed the statue of a snake Riddle was holding on to, but Hermione did not recognise this underground passageway.

'I enabled the book to transport you, and him over there, back from where you came.'

'Lying piece of shit,' she thought, aggravated. 'This better be 1944 or I might just rethink my options and make a more distinct alteration in the time-line all together.'

She pulled out Tom's wand from her beaded bag and turned just on time to see that he had decided the potion was safe to take and had just swallowed it whole. Hermione pushed Tom's wand in his chest and said dryly: 'you don't mind if I take that one, do you?'

She snatched her wand out of his hand with a delightful feeling of relieve. There, she was safe for now.

Tom, however, wasn't paying attention to her "wand snatching routine". He was examining the passageway they were in and he was smirking about something. To Hermione's surprise he made no comment about her disarming him, but he simply looked at the snake statue with a pleased expression on his face, and he started leaning against the wall beside it, crossing his arms over each other and placing one foot on the base of the statue, obviously waiting for her to make the first move, like she hadn't already made it.

'What's so funny, Riddle?'

Mockingly, he raised his eyebrows at her and replied snorting: 'Which way, Evans? Left or right?'

Hermione's eyes darted the strange corridor. For someone who had just lost his only means of defence, again, she felt Riddle was enjoying himself way too much.

'Not that it matters much which way you pick,' he snickered. 'Both ways lead to the exact same … uh… chamber,' and his smile broadened.

Hermione felt the bones in her body freeze up. She couldn't be. Her head swept sideways to check the environment, but his next comment pretty much confirmed her worst fears.

'Are you sure it's wise for you to eye the corridor?' Tom asked, amused.

He was still leaning casually against the wall, demonstrating that he, at least, had not a single concern in this world. And he stretched out his hand, waiting for her to give him his wand back.

Hermione, on the other hand, had no intention to comply with that demand. And she was thinking about everything Harry, Ron and Ginny had told her about the Chamber of Secrets and the passageways to it. She couldn't recall any banners or snake statues in corridors, so perhaps this was an area they had not ventured into. Or perhaps Harry had been too busy with activities as: getting to Ginny, battling with Riddle and ditching a fifty feet Basilisk. Perhaps he had not cared too much about his surroundings at the time.

She was still wondering where to go from here when Tom sighed, because Hermione didn't hand over his wand, and he hissed shortly towards the snake statue. The green emeralds that were posing as the eyes were sparking brightly for a moment and somewhere in the distance a huge green animal started sliding towards them. Tom pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, and out of reflex, Hermione jumped backwards, raising her wand.

'Don't be a fool, Granger. You know you can't do anything to me. Right now, I'm the only one here capable of preventing that Basilisk from killing you.'

'But surely that thing couldn't get to her,' Hermione thought fearful, 'after all it was locked up inside the statue of Salazar Slytherin.'

'We are inside the statue of Salazar Slytherin,' said Tom, like he had just read her mind.

That took away the last shred of hope from Hermione's mind at about the same time as she heard it. Even if she hadn't seen the beast before, the muffled sounds alone would have told her something humongous was slithering in the darkness of the passageway, and it obviously was approaching their position around the corner. Riddle took another step in her direction and Hermione backed away into the wall, still pointing her wand straight at him. She was beginning to panic now.

Quickly, her analytic mind went over everything she remembered that could possibly kill a Basilisk. The crowing of a rooster, the sword of Gryffindor, Harry Potter yielding that sword, and that was basically it. No spell or killing curse would take effect upon the magical creature, and only a Parselmouth could control it. Only he could control it. She was staring into his dark eyes when his hand fell upon hers and he calmly directed her wand away from his chest.

'Put that away. You won't be needing it,' he softly said, before reaching out into her pocket to retrieve his own wand.

A large shadow fell into the corridor.

'Close your eyes.'

And Hermione complied, very much aware of her own vulnerability in that moment. She heard him hiss a couple of words in Parseltongue, and she could sense the Basilisk curling up around them.

'You can open them now. I told it not to look at you without my specific say so. Just make sure you do not make any sudden moves,' said Tom warningly.

Hermione opened her eyes, and saw two dark eyes stare right into her brown ones. The Basilisk was indeed curled up all around them, blocking every possible escape route with its large, poisonous green body. Its head was facing the wall opposite to the one Hermione was standing pressed against. She hadn't even realised she had pushed herself into that wall so hard out of sheer angst.

'Now, this is how things are going to go…' Riddle started.

And a few minutes later Hermione was walking through the many corridors inside the statue with her eyes closed, feeling utterly ridiculous at being directed through them by Tom Riddle, who was holding on to her shoulders, pushing her in the right direction. Or so that's what he told her. She wasn't so sure anymore after she got the distinct impression that they were moving around in circles. At one point she noticed they passed the Basilisk again when her hand slightly brushed something muscular and smooth.

'Riddle, will you stop fooling around in these passageways. You're making me dizzy and I'm pretty sure you have nothing to worry about, because I sincerely doubt I'll ever be tempted in coming back here again,' Hermione said, irritated.

'Oh, I don't know, Hermione,' Riddle said, cheerful. 'You can be incredibly stubborn when you think something needs done, even if it's risky and foolish. So I rather not take the chance. Besides, we're almost there.'

He halted her forward motion. Another set of hissing, and a rumbling sound reached her ears. They stood still until everything was quiet again and he pushed her forward. Hermione tripped over the steps, whose existence Tom conveniently forgot to mention, and she said a loud swearword not worthy of repeating.

'You can open your eyes now.'

'Finally,' Hermione thought, relieved this show was over and done with.

Surprised, she noticed that they weren't in the girl's bathroom on the second floor. And now that she thought about it, they hadn't flown up some pipe at all. She looked around the place they were in curiously. It was a simple study chamber decorated in Slytherin colours. She had never seen anything like it before.

'Are you coming?' Riddle said, standing in the doorway. 'We still need to find out when we are.'

'All right, Mister Suddenly Impatient,' Hermione murmured.

And she stepped outside to see she was on the seventh floor right outside the Room of Requirement. How had they got here? She didn't remember any staircases or anything else that moved upward. Riddle noticed her confusing and smirked.

'Did you really think I'd go in and out of the Chamber by means of that disgusting pipe?' he said condescendingly.

Hermione ignored the remark, and began passing the hidden door, until Riddle stopped her. 'What are you doing, Evans?' he asked in a hushed tone of voice.

'Storing away this book for safe keeping,' Hermione answered, while pointing at her beaded bag.

'Don't you think it would be smarter to do that when we're certain we arrived on the right date?'

'What might be a right date for you, Riddle, might not necessarily be a right date for me,' said Hermione, for the sake of disagreeing, but she did leaveEternity in Time inside her bag and walked away from the Room of Requirement towards the staircases.

The castle was quiet. They were not passed by a single soul on their way down. Pringle and his prying nose was nowhere to be seen, and Peeves, who always was around when students were trying to break the rules, was also missing in action. When they reached ground-level, they eyed each other somewhat apprehensively. It was way too silent. Where was everybody? Riddle walked towards the Great Hall and opened the door to it. Hermione was relieved to see there was one student there, eating a sandwich on his own.

'Eh, you!' Riddle said.

The Hufflepuff nearly choked on his sandwich and jumped up in shock from the sudden noise that Riddle's voice created in the stillness of the Hall. Hermione hit Tom on his arm.

'There is no need to frighten him,' she said bossy.

'I was just calling out, nothing more. I can't help it, if he is a bit of a weasel,' Tom sneered, while rubbing his upper arm.

Hermione was eyeing this with a lot of amusement. 'Bit of a baby, are we?'

'Just so you know, Evans, you have a very nasty punch.'

'Ron never complained about it.'

And she walked towards the boy at the Hufflepuff table, who was watching them both apprehensively. 'Probably one of the second year's, at most,' Hermione guessed silently.

'Could you tell us what day it is?' Hermione asked politely.

The boy was staring at her with fearful eyes and he did not respond at all. Hermione realised that even as a Prefect she had never got this kind of reaction out of any of the junior schoolchildren when she was still wearing Gryffindor colours. No one had ever been frightened to speak to her. Apparently, the fact that she now wore a green and silver tie was enough to turn someone into a mute around her. Riddle started sighing impatiently, but he jumped out of Hermione's punching range when he noticed, she had narrowed her eyes at him. Hermione turned her head back to the boy at the Hufflepuff table and said: 'I'd like to know the exact date, please?'

A very squeaky voice answered her. 'December fourth.'

Hermione nodded imploringly, while Tom rolled his eyes.

'1944,' the boy added, glancing nervously in Tom's direction.

'Well, hallelujah, that must have been really hard work. I guess it's perfectly clear why you're in Hufflepuff. I suggest you take a nap now,' Tom sneered to the boy.

And when the boy did not move immediately, Tom snarled: 'I said, now! Get out, move, leave us intelligent beings alo… Ouch…'

And Riddle was rubbing his arm again, while the boy stumbled out of the Great hall in a hurry. Hermione shook her head and was about to turn around and leave the Great Hall to bring Salazar's book back to the Room of Requirement, when Tom grabbed her arm.

'What?' she snapped.

'Look,' Riddle said, puzzled.

Hermione turned and followed his gaze. At the end of it, she saw the door in the wall of the Great Hall; a door that had never been there; a door that wasn't supposed to be there. They shared a surprised glance, before walking over and stopping in front of it. Tom grabbed the doorknob and opened this new door, so they could enter the grand facility unknown to them both.

'What for Salazar's sake?' muttered Tom.

Hermione's jaw dropped and she was lost for words. She had never seen this grand room before in all her lifetime at Hogwarts, and she was certain she would have remembered if there had been one. Tom was looking equally lost. He was walking to the tables at the other end of the clearing in the centre as if that would provide some answer to why this place was suddenly here.

'What are you two doing here? The ballroom is off limits when there are no events taking place,' Lucretia Black spoke behind them.

Hermione and Tom turned to face Lucretia, who stood in the doorway.

'The what?' Tom asked, baffled.

'The ballroom,' Lucretia said impatient, now looking at him like he was slightly insane.

'Hogwarts doesn't have a ballroom,' Hermione stated.

'Sure, it does. We hold the tournament here and the annual Dance.'

'The What?' Two voices spoke shocked.

Lucretia was now eyeing them like they both had turned mental. 'The Dance, the Dance, surely you remember Tom,' she said teasingly. 'Last year you had so much fun tormenting Augusta.'

Tom looked lost for words. His eyes went to Hermione for support, but clearly there wasn't any coming, because she too seemed utterly speechless.

'What's the matter with you both?' Lucretia asked, bemused.

'There are no annual dances at Hogwarts,' Hermione said weakly.

Tom nodded his head firmly in affirmation. The thought alone seemed to appal him severely.

'Of course there are. I guess they don't do dances at Durmstrang?' Lucretia asked rhetorically. 'But here at Hogwarts we have one every year. On the evening before the Christmas vacation starts. I don't know who has forgotten to tell you about them,' and here she was looking accusatory to Tom. 'But you should really check the information that's been given to you. The Dance is kind of a tradition, you know. There are lots and lots of stories about them. I mean it's not like they are the figment of someone's overly imaginative mind.'

'Well, it's not like we need to attend,' Tom said softly, more to himself than to anybody else present.

'But you do,' Lucretia said, amused, 'I know you've been trying to stop this event from taking place this year, Tom, ever since you found out who became Head Girl. But Dippet is far too fond of dancing, so I doubt even you can talk him out of it.'

'What are you blabbering about? And what has McGonagall got to do with any of this?' Tom said, alarmed. And a clear signal of danger became apparent in his voice, while his knuckles turned white from holding on too harshly onto the wand inside his pocket.

Lucretia, subconsciously, took a step backwards and said somewhat timid, yet defiant: 'Look, I don't know what kind of sick game you're trying to pull on me here, since it is obvious that you're very much aware of the fact that the Head Boy has to open the Dance with the Head Girl.'

If Hermione hadn't felt so incredibly sorry for Minerva McGonagall at that very moment, she might have roared with laughter at the sight of Tom Riddle's distressed features. Lucretia seemed to think that now would be a very prudent time to leave, and she quickly fled the ballroom, leaving behind a very bewildered Slytherin Head Boy and a worried Slytherin girl.

'This is our fault,' Hermione muttered, 'clearly this room is here, because of us, because we used the book.'

'Impossible,' Riddle said, annoyed.

'Oh, do enlighten us, common folks,' and she spread her arms out wide in clear mockery, 'with Lord Voldemort's marvellous explanation of all this.'

'We travelled to the future, Evans,' he hissed back angrily. 'Surely, we could not have made this ballroom appear here in 1944, even if we changed something in 1981. I'm certain of that.'

'Oh, you are certain of that,' Hermione said sarcastically. And she hissed the next comments underneath her breath at him angrily, matching his tone exactly. 'Have you read the entire book before you started travelling with it, or did you just skip a couple of pages and went straight to the 'How to Activate this Time-Travel-Device' part?'

The answer to that question was written all over his now flustered face. So Hermione advanced on him and she underlined her next words by poking him furiously in the chest with her index finger. 'Do you even understand half of what Salazar Slytherin wrote down on the pages, or did your arrogant, little mind think it would be irrelevant information as long as the Great Lord Voldemort got what he wanted?'

And she noticed he was barely restraining himself from doing something. He was standing there, rigid. The tension of his muscles was clearly visible, and a predatory glint was eminently present in his eyes. But Hermione felt pretty damn angry herself, and his continued silence to her bold statements made her even more ferocious, so she continued her raving rant.

'HA! But don't take my measly, Mudblood word on it. Feel free to listen to the only voice you deem relevant,' and she started quoting mockingly: 'And tell him to stop wasting his precious time meddling in events he has no control over.' She snorted. 'You know, I'm actually beginning to see its relevance. I guess you remembered getting yourself stuck on the inside of a ballroom with a Gryffindor one day due to your own stu…pmmm…'

His mouth was on her mouth. Tom had silenced her in the only way his mind was able to process at that very moment in time. He had grabbed her harshly and pulled her close, kissing her in a manner she had never been kissed before. It was passionate, angry, violent, controlling, like he wanted to devour her completely. His arm was around her waist holding her so tight that she felt he was trying to crush her against him. There was no room to move, and his other hand held on to the back of her head, tilting it slightly, holding it in place so she could not escape him.

And as abruptly as he had initiated the kiss he broke off, pushing her away roughly. They were both panting heavily, not looking at each other. In a swift motion, he quickly whirled away and exited the ballroom, leaving Hermione alone in an utterly distressed and flustered state. And so she remained, standing still for quite some time, trying to process what on earth had just happened. Until the chatters of the other students, pouring into the Great Hall to have breakfast, woke her out of her daze and she left the room as well, knowing for sure she would put as much distance as she possibly could between herself and Tom "bloody" Riddle. In the corner of the ballroom, a small yellow piece of parchment with a black rim stopped glowing and disappeared into thin air, unnoticed by anyone.

So Hermione was wandering the hallways, still in shock, not really clear on where she was going, when she heard her name being called out. She so did not want company right now, but the name-callers were Minerva McGonagall and Ernest Lovegood. And they were quite persistent. They came running towards her down the corridor, both looking very excited about something.

'Ernest did it,' Minerva said panting. 'He found a lead.'

'On what?' Hermione said, still preoccupied with earlier events.

The two looked at each other rather baffled. 'The book of course, Hermione,' Minerva whispered. 'Rowena Ravenclaw's Mind over Matter.'

'Yes,' said Ernest. 'My uncle says that book is linked to the Deathly Hallows.'

That piece of information shook Hermione right out of her pondering on Riddle and his stupefying actions. 'No,' she thought, shocked at hearing those last two words being linked to something she knew existed for real.

'Not here!' Hermione whispered bossily back to them.

And she grabbed the two others and started dragging them alone the fifth floor corridor, desperately trying to recall everything she had said to Harry. She had told Harry to stop delving on those Hallows and concentrate on Horcruxes. She had told him that was the job Dumbledore had sent him out to accomplish. And for the very first time in his life Harry had listened to her advice. What if those Hallows were important? Then it would be her fault that Harry had stopped looking. Roughly, she pulled the now slightly protesting teenagers past the statue of Boris the Bewildered, and took the fourth door on her left into the Prefect's bathroom, bolting it from the inside.

'Now, we can talk,' Hermione said firmly.

'But we have Potions in five minutes,' Minerva said weakly.

'I'm sure Slughorn won't mind if I skip one of his classes,' said Hermione, turning her attention to Ernest Lovegood to ask him about the Deathly Hallows.

But Ernest was already engaged in a conversation with somebody else. He was talking rather screeching to the picture of the flirtatious mermaid on the wall. Hermione was wondering why he was trying to speak Mermish to a painting that was not by far a true representation of the real Merpeople. The mermaid on the wall had more resemblance to the way Muggles viewed them, and therefore, Hermione doubted that she would understand what Ernest was saying. Sure enough, all the painting did was wink at him, but that seemed enough encouragement for Ernest to continue talking.

Sighing, Minerva decided that the fastest way for her to get to Slughorn's class was by making sure Hermione got the information she wanted, so she, quickly, pulled Ernest by his collar and dragged him away from the panting, while telling him sternly to inform Hermione about the Deathly Hallows and Rowena's book.

'Well, are you familiar with the tale of the three brothers?' Ernest started, but he was interrupted by some very loud knocking on the bathroom door. 'You don't think that's…'

However, who Ernest thought it could be remained a secret forever, because a familiar voice shouted from the other side of the door. 'Minerva? Hermione? We know you're in there. We have news.'

It was Augusta Longbottom. Hermione, quickly, undid the bolts on the door and opened it. She pulled Augusta in before noticing she was not alone. Hagrid and Pomona were also there.

'Hurry!' Hermione said with some urgency in her tone of voice, 'before someone notices us.'

After they had also entered, she took one last look at the empty corridor and closed the door, before bolting it again, after which she cast an Imperturbable Charm on it, wondering why she hadn't thought of that sooner. She swept around to face Ernest, but now, four others were hurtled together, waffling through one another.

'No, I'm telling you. It won't work,' Pomona's voice said determined.

'I think it will,' Augusta disagreed.

'We only need a brief distraction.' That was Minerva.

'Dippet will notice.' Ernest had done his input.

'Dippet wouldn't notice if a Hippogriff landed in his room, unless it started to do a two-step,' stated Minerva.

Hermione looked at Hagrid, who seemed to be equally left out on the conversation, and he hoisted his shoulders at her. Hermione coughed loudly. The four of them looked up, still somewhat flustered from their previous debate, and watched Hermione a bit guilty.

'What's going on? What do you need a distraction for?' Hermione asked, confused.

'Nothing,' Minerva said, evasively.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'That didn't sound like nothing to me.'

'I know, but… uh… it's best if you stay out of this. It's got nothing to do with you. And you know, with these little meetings you're having, and…' Minerva stopped talking for a moment when she saw the angry look on Hermione's face.

'Well, I'm sorry, Hermione,' Minerva continued, not sounding apologetic at all. 'But I can't have Tom Riddle finding out about this, so you'll have to stay out of it. You two are meeting so often he could get wind of what we're planning, and I don't need him sticking his arrogant nose in it.'

'I would never tell him anything.'

'Not deliberately, no, but he is good in founding out stuff he's not supposed to know.'

It was, suddenly, very silent in the bathroom. Hagrid was shifting uncomfortably because of the arguments, and he broke the silence. 'Could yeh all tell me what we're doin' here?'

Hagrid's question made Hermione remember the Deathly Hallows issue again and she pushed the argument with Minerva aside, determined to talk about that at a later, more appropriate moment.

'You were saying something about the Deathly Hallows and the tale of the three brothers, Ernest,' Hermione said.

'Does everybody here know the tale?' Ernest looked around questioningly.

Everybody nodded, except for Hagrid.

'Surely Rubeus, you must know the tale of the Peverell Brothers. Didn't your father read it to you when you were little?' Augusta asked.

Hagrid looked apologetic at them, and said: 'Could be, don't remember. What's it 'bout?'

'Once upon a time there were three brothers who cheated Death by crossing a river without dying in it. Death was upset about losing their souls and approached them. He told the brothers how clever they had been in evading him and said they could have everything they desired. The oldest brother wanted to be invincible, the second brother wanted something to bring back others who had died, but the youngest brother did not trust Death and he asked for something that would make it impossible for Death to follow him further. And so they received their gifts: the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and Death's own Cloak.'

'Oh, wait,' Hagrid said, obviously remembering it now Augusta had almost finished the story. 'The two older brothers got killed quickly because of their chosen gifts, but the younger one was able to evade Death, until he had reached an old age and handed the Invisibility Cloak over to his son. Right?' And he looked at Augusta for confirmation, but everybody was nodding affirmatively.

'But I like to know what that fairytale has got to do with our search for the Books?' Augusta asked.

And the doubt in her eyes was obvious when she looked at Ernest. It was clear she was expecting another Martian Statement from him. And surely, she wasn't alone in her expectation. Pomona was also making quite a face at Ernest.

'Well, I spoke with my uncle about the Ravenclaw Book…,' Ernest started.

'Not the uncle who is the editor of that stupid magazine?' Augusta asked, snorting.

'Could we get on with the story?' Minerva said, annoyed. She was checking her watch again, and Hermione knew that their Potions lesson had started fifteen minutes ago.

Ernest continued his statement. 'According to my uncle, legend dictates that Rowena Ravenclaw wrote a book on how to donate true magical powers to inanimate objects. He said that the story of the Peverell Brothers is tightly linked with Miss Ravenclaw's abilities. Ravenclaw was known to create objects with powers far greater than anybody else has ever achieved. The Sorting Hat is a very good example. Everybody knows it was Godric's Hat. But it was Rowena, who charmed it to continue the sorting process after they died. And, of course, there is always her Tiara,' Ernest said.

'Her what?' Hermione said sharply, remembering Voldemort's interest in all items concerning the Founders.

'The missing Ravenclaw Tiara,' Ernest explained, surprised Hermione did not know about such a powerful object. 'It is known to enhance the wearer's wisdom.'

'Since when has this Tiara gone missing?' Hermione asked, excited, thinking she was onto something.

'Oh, it was lost centuries ago. They say Ravenclaw herself misplaced it. Personally, I think the Wrackspurts have something to do with its loss,' Ernest claimed.

Hermione closed her eyes, and Pomona sighed.

'Wrackspurts?' Rubeus asked.

'Yes, they enter into their victim's ear and live of people's brain cells, making their brain go fuzzy. The diadem is said to prevent that, and therefore, it stole their only food supply. So they took it,' Ernest explained to a puzzled Hagrid.

'There is no such thing as a Wrackspurt, Ernest,' Augusta said, tired. 'It's just one other creation of your uncle's overly fantasising mind.'

Ernest just hoisted his shoulders. He was used to people not believing him and did not care much about it.

'Ernest,' Minerva said, encouragingly to him, while eyeing the others disapprovingly. 'Could you continue your story about Ravenclaw and the Hallows.'

Pomona shook her head and Augusta looked with sheer disbelieve at Minerva, while Hagrid was still scanning the room apprehensively for invisible creatures, which entered through your ears and ate from your brain.

'Well, all Hallows are objects with unlimited magical abilities. The Elder Wand is unbeatable, The Resurrection Stone is said to bring people back to life, and Death's own Invisibility Cloak is supposed to have the power to hide people from Death himself,' Ernest continued.

'So you are saying that these objects are created by Rowena Ravenclaw,' Hermione said thoughtful. 'And that Mind over Matter has been the real foundation of the Peverell story.'

'That's one way you can think about it. Others say that Rowena drew her inspiration to write Mind over Matter from these very objects Death had created. No one knows for sure,' Ernest said.

'But this is all nonsense,' Augusta said, irritated. 'It's a fairytale, for crying out loud. It has nothing to do with real life.'

'Professor Dumbledore believes the Deathly Hallows exists,' Minerva said, annoyed with Augusta's response.

'Oh, now I understand why you, of all people, suddenly have taken an interest in Lovegood's ramblings,' Augusta said, and she nudged Pomona in the side. 'If Professor Dumbledore says so…' Augusta mocked teasingly. And both girls started giggling at Minerva's reddened face.

Minerva stamped with her foot on the ground. 'Everybody knows the Elder Wand is real. It's been tracked throughout history many times. The Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick, or whatever it's being called, it is out there. So why should the other items not be real as well?'

'I've heard Grindelwald has it,' Hagrid said softly.

They all looked at him, shocked. 'But then… then…' Minerva did not finish the sentence. The thought was too horrible.

'Who told you that?' Hermione asked, merely interested, knowing full well the outcome of history.

Hagrid's face went crimson and he wriggled his hands in his lap. 'Uh… nobody, I sort of overheard this conversation.' And he stopped, but continued when he saw all the curious faces staring at him. 'Between Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore… and well… Professor Dumbledore claims that he has it.'

Hermione frowned. If Grindelwald had this unbeatable wand, then shouldn't he be unbeatable? She knew perfectly well that Dumbledore had defeated him, but how? Too many questions, too many variables, so many secrets and lies. And she remembered the photograph and its caption. 'Albus Dumbledore, shortly after his mother's death, with his friend Gellert Grindelwald.'

If only she could know for sure. She remembered the sign in the book Dumbledore had left her. The sign Dumbledore himself had drawn on the cover. The same sign had appeared on the grave of Ignotius Peverell at the Godric's Hollow cemetery. And she pulled her copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bardfrom her small beaded bag and showed it to Ernest Lovegood. He took the book from her, and watched it with astonishment.

'A first edition? Do you have any idea how rare and valuable they are?' he asked Hermione, while going through the pages.

Hermione shook her head, and said: 'Look at the sign on the cover. Do you know what that sign resembles?'

'It's the sign of the Deathly Hallows,' Ernest said, after having monitored the cover for a short while, and he handed her the book back. 'Whoever combines the three Hallows is the true Master of Death. This sign represents that. Believers of the Hallows all over the world use it to make themselves known to others.'

'So, the Deathly Hallows are real,' Hermione said quietly and bit her lip.

She had told Harry to stop looking. What if Voldemort found out about them? What if he already knew? He had been looking for Gregorovitch, the Wandmaker. Could that have been for the Elder Wand? Something was stolen from Gregorovitch ages ago, and she suddenly remembered the thief had been Grindelwald. Harry had recognised him from the picture. So Hagrid was right. And she knew Voldemort would get the Elder Wand rather easily if Grindelwald really was its owner. It was not that he could defend himself being locked up in Nurmengard. She didn't even know where they stored the wands of their prisoners. This was an utter disaster. And it was all her fault.

'Who cares whether these Hallows are real or make-believe? We have a book to find, not some item that maybe was created with the knowledge inside,' Augusta said, sick of listening to what she believed to be nonsense.

It was when Ernest said something that shook them all to the core. 'The book is said to be owned by whoever holds the Elder Wand.'

Hermione turned pale and leaned against the wall. She noticed how a cacophony of noise broke out all around her. Everyone was shouting through one another, and nobody was listening anymore.

'I'm not going to ask Gellert Grindelwald for a book.'

'Yeah, I'm sure he will have no problem parting with it, if you ask him nicely.'

'How are we ever going to get it now?'

'You are so full of it, Lovegood.'

'You know what, let's tell Riddle all about it, then he can go to Grindelwald and get his arse kicked. Hah! Maybe they can kill off each other. That would certainly solve all our problems.'

'I don't see you bringing any leads on something of Helga's here.'

'Is everything all right, Hermione … Hermione?' Rubeus asked, worried because of Hermione's pale expression and silence.

They all stopped chattering, eyeing the only two people who hadn't been participating in the shouting match. Hermione was leaning against the bathroom wall, staring into thin air. If Voldemort was after the Elder Wand in her time and he would take it from Grindelwald, which he easily could, Ravenclaw's book would also become his. And she had told Harry the Hallows were not important. She felt she was going to be sick.

'Hermione?' Minerva had joined Hagrid's side, and was now also eyeing her with concern.

'I'm… I'm… I'm late for Potions,' Hermione suddenly said.

She swept around, unlocked the door and fled the bathroom, leaving the others standing, baffled and worried. Hermione ran towards the staircases, but instead of going down to the dungeons she went up. She ran as hard as she could, until she reached the Room of Requirement. Impatiently, she passed the hidden door thrice, swirled inside and grabbed Godric's book that was still lying on the table. Hermione knew the books, both of them, had to be taken elsewhere. Riddle could not keep them, if he would someday also become the owner of Mind over Matter. With the knowledge of three, all he would need was Hufflepuff's finest and he would become Master of Manipulation. So she opened her beaded bag and was about to dump Infinity in Space in there, when she realised ... The Unbreakable Vow! She had sworn an Unbreakable Vow. She could not take those damn books anywhere. Not until they had shared the entire contents that was in there. And she sank to the floor in despair. Minerva had been right.

'Why would you do such a thing? Don't you know he'll use it against you? You realise there must be some ulterior motive behind this. And when you find out…'

And she remembered her holiday in Canada, where she had met the DADA teacher of the Canadian Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor Magick had once said in her presence: 'A deal with the Devil is never a good idea, even when both you and the Devil are in far over your heads.'

How very and utterly true.

And so Hermione left the Room of Requirement, while leaving behind both books on the table, feeling she was the utmost dumb person in the whole wide world. She knew that if they would start handing out awards for stupidity she would definitely be a winner. And it wasn't until she saw Tom Riddle standing in the corridor talking to Rodolphus Lestrange that the events of the early morning came back to mind. He had kissed her. Merlin knows why, but he had done just that. Angrily, Hermione went into the classroom and threw her belongings on the first table in the front of the row. She started waiting for Professor Galatea Merrythought to arrive. Hermione noticed how the other students walked in, but there was still no sign of Tom Riddle. Apparently, he was in no hurry to get inside.

'Unusual,' she thought.

Ernest winked at her, before he sat down next to his friends from Ravenclaw. And she smiled back at him. Lucretia Black sat down next to her and started talking about the Christmas Dance. Obviously, she felt Hermione was not well informed about the routines of Hogwarts and she was determined to correct that lapse in education. Especially, since the Dance in question was merely a week-and-a-half away from actually happening.

Eventually, Professor Merrythought entered the classroom and Tom, accompanied by Rodolphus, followed her in. Tom threw one glance at Hermione, before he made his way to the far end of the classroom, sitting down at the very last table of the row with Lestrange. Hermione raised her eyebrows at this behaviour, but it suited her just fine. After all, if he was avoiding her, that would save her the trouble of having to avoid him.

And it turned out that he definitely was avoiding her, because the next couple days showed her Tom followed the same routine over and over again. He would wait outside the classroom until she was seated, and then, he sat down as far away from her as he possibly could. And it wasn't limited to their classes. Wherever Hermione was, somehow Tom had made certain that he had business to attend to far, far away from that place, which, no doubt, made going to the library quite a trying time for him. They never reconvened in the Room of Requirement, and it was almost like both books did not exist. And even though, sometimes, Hermione's thoughts would dwell on the Unbreakable Vow, she was quick in telling herself that nothing bad was going to happen when both parties involved decided not to live up to its expectations.

Unfortunately for the both of them, Hermione wasn't the only one who noticed Tom's odd behaviour. The Slytherins, especially the group that followed Tom around, were very pleased with this turn of events. Finally, their leader wasn't constantly conversing with that Mudblood. And the other students did not care much or were rooting for Hermione. Minerva and the other four "Order Members" had asked her what happened, but Hermione was not in the mood to share the event and had kept evenly quiet about it as Tom had to any of his so-called friends.

The Hogwarts' staff also did not miss the sudden estrangement between the two Slytherins. Some of the professors were only giving them curious glances. Slughorn, who thought the two of them were a perfect Slytherin pair, had suddenly deemed it necessary to couple students for their work and he had placed the two of them together. The professor was probably hoping this would help his star pupils get over whatever fight they were in and he ignored the furious glares, he was getting from the both of them, deeming his interference was all for a good cause and they would one day thank him for it.

But not even Slughorn's unwanted interference could top the Transfiguration lessons with Professor Dumbledore. Transfiguration had been the only lesson Hermione hadn't found trying to sit through in 1944, because Tom Riddle had the good sense not to stage his usual charming routine with Dumbledore. However, Tom had no problem showing Dumbledore he was not keen on being around Hermione Evans any more. And Dumbledore had always been quite the observer of human nature. So Hermione had felt like she was being X-rayed on numerous occasions and it was already a difficult task to follow Dumbledore's explanations on Transfiguration without the constant gazes of those light blue eyes.

Professor Dumbledore had turned out to be quite a different teacher than McGonagall. Minerva was strict and stern, while Dumbledore was highly relaxed and open-minded. If they were practising and a student would make a mess of his work, Dumbledore would be there telling that student about the one time when he had caused monkey ears to grow on a turtle or he told some other anecdote about his own faulty experience that he seemed to have in abundance.

Where Minerva's lessons were highly structured and precise, and therefore easy to follow for the students, Dumbledore would jump from one subject to the next. He was easily distracted from the main topic by something as simple as a question, and he would then expand his thoughts on that with numerous anecdotes. Those anecdotes usually caused him to sway even further from the original topic of the lesson, and by the very end of that lesson, there were only a few students in the class, who were not confused on what today's subject had been.

Actually, only three students were capable of keeping some track of Dumbledore's thought processes. Minerva, because Transfiguration came to her as something she was naturally born with. Hermione, because she quickly learnt simply to rely on her textbook to learn the required assignments, and so she avoided taken notes and just listened to Dumbledore. And Tom, because he could actually follow the tremendous leaps of faith with no problem whatsoever, not that he would agree with Dumbledore's conclusions all the time.

And surely, after another difficult Transfiguration lesson, what Hermione had feared, finally happened. Professor Dumbledore halted her to ask her if she was all right and to question her about Tom's sudden lack of desire to be around her. Dumbledore said something that if asked upon Harry would have recognised. He asked Hermione if there was something she needed to tell him. Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable denying that, but she was also slightly irritated that the man who invented secrets and lies had the nerve to ask her something like that.

So she left the classroom in a hurry. She was glad it was almost weekend, so she would have, at least, two Dumbledore-free days. She passed Lestrange and Avery without so much as giving them a second glance and was walking towards the library in an empty corridor when she had the distinct feeling, she was being followed. Hermione turned around, but saw no one. And she hoisted her shoulders, while in the distance a wand was raised and a Severing Charm was spoken.

'Diffindo.'

xxx
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Masters of Manipulation