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Tom Riddle's Redemption	By : SweetHoney Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 1699 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights of Harry Potter and anything associated to it, and do not make any profit from this. My work is purely fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Tom Riddle's Redemption
- 2-Wand
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 1
- 2
- 3
"Stay still," Honey ordered Tommy as she wrapped the bandage around his forearm. She figured he was angry at her for digging out the shard of glass from his flesh with those really sharp tweezers, and now wrapping him up like a mummy. He was attempting to rebel against her in any little form he could. It didn't matter. Compared to what he had done to her, this was nothing. Beside, she was being quite accommodating. She had brought him a nice bed to lie on, which she found in a storage room, and clean sheets.

With the truth finally out, Tommy had given up his façade of a charming gentleman and openly glared at her with hatred. It was gone for a split second when he winced as she tightened the bandage. "I'm leaving now. Behave while I'm gone or I'll chain you down."

Taking a break from Tommy, Honey left the Chamber of Secrets early on a Sunday morning. She Apparated to Diagon Alley to purchase a new wand after discovering that her old one was destroyed. Since no one but Tommy knew she was in Hogwarts, it gave her the opportunity to leave the grounds without trouble from the magical wards. With permission from both Umbridge and Dumbledore she was allowed to Apparate to and from the school at a certain access spot. Because of the sudden change in schedule, her return date was never clear so the school didn't know she had already returned. She used the Hogwarts Express the last time she came was because she was exhausted and feared she might splinch.

Afterwards she planned on returning to Ravenclaw Tower. She needed to refresh herself, change her robes, and inform her teachers she was back. She had to return to her classes as soon as possible; her incident with Tommy had disrupted her schedule. O.W.L. year was the busiest, with teachers giving out homework ten times the average. There were probably mountains of assignments waiting for her to complete, and she needed a working wand. Ollivander's was her first stop.

"How about this one?" said Mr. Ollivander. "Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy."

Honey took the wand out of the box and waved it around a bit. Normally her wrist would be swollen and aching, but after she had awoken in the Chamber of Secrets she'd found that her movements were no longer restricted. She could walk at a normal pace and carry objects that had seemed heavy to her before. It was as if she'd been reborn into a new person. Everything that had been difficult for her to perform before was easy now. Everything except using a wand.

Seeing that nothing was happening, Mr. Ollivander snatched the wand out of her hand. Honey sighed in depression as he went to the back of his shop to retrieve more wands for her. Since her limbs and voice had been useless for so long, her magic had adapted to her circumstances. Unlike many others, she was able to perform wandless magic as well as nonverbal, but for some reason she lacked the capability of using a wand. When she'd got her first wand, she'd barely had time to use it before she'd been hospitalized. Her wand was kept on her pillow beside her during that time. After she recovered she'd been practicing spells nonstop. Even with strong determination and her dedication, she was only able to perform small, simple charms with it. Nothing fancy, because it hurt her wrist too much. All this time she'd been pretending to wave her wand and shouting out the appropriate incantations. She didn't want anyone to know she could use wandless and nonverbal magic because she was secretly ashamed—ashamed of how her magic had gotten that way—and she was afraid of being without a wand. Although it didn't function well for her, a wand gave her a sense of security.

"Maple and dragon heartstring. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try it," Mr. Ollivander said, returning to the counter. Honey tried and nothing happened. He snatched it from her and held up another one. "Ash, dra—"

"No more."

"But—"

"We've gone through thirty-nine already."

"We've only just gotten started."

"Please," Honey pleaded. This was embarrassing her.

Mr. Ollivander looked her sympathetically. "That's just makes me more determined than ever to find the right one for you." He tapped his chin with his index finger. "Let's see. Your old wand was holly and unicorn hair, thirteen-and-a-half inches, flexible. What happened to it?"

Honey took a white cloth containing what was left of her wand from her pocket. Spreading out the cloth, she revealed the ashes of her wand.

"The unicorn hair must have died," Mr. Ollivander said. "How tragic. This was the last one from that particular unicorn. I've sold all of its brothers."

"I've thought of that being a possibility," admitted Honey, having read that information in a book somewhere, "but how? Certainly it's not old enough to have died on me. Is it?"

"Wands with unicorn hair are the most faithful of all wands and usually remain strongly attached to their first owner," he said. "They are prone to melancholy, if seriously mishandled..."

"I have not mishandled it. It was in my pocket and it—" Honey paused and then stiffened.

She suddenly realized why her wand was reduced to ashes. Her mind completely shut out her surroundings as she closed her eyes and conjured up an imagine of herself from two years ago. It was half past midnight and she couldn't find sleep. Her body immobilized, she lay still on the hospital bed. Using her magic, she summoned a book from the shelf and made it open itself. The book hovered inches above her face as she read its contents, nothing moving but her eyes. She read it line after line.

Holly is one of the rarer kinds of wand woods...Traditionally considered protective, it works most happily for those who may need help overcoming a tendency to anger and impetuosity...At the same time, holly wands often choose owners who are engaged in some dangerous and often spiritual quest...Unicorn hair is one of the best cores for a wand. It's among the most loyal and faithful cores, alongside Phoenix feathers...

In her mind, Honey skimmed through the lines until she found the information she was looking for.

If the owner were to die, the wand would die as well. In certain extremely rare cases the unicorn hair would sacrifice itself for its owner and take its owner's place in death.

Honey's eyes snapped opened in shock. Mr. Ollivander didn't notice her because he was distracted by examining the bits of ash on his counter.

"Some wands expel all their magic and refuse to perform," he said. Placing both hands on the counter, he turned his gaze from the ashes and eyed her thoughtfully. "It happens commonly in hazel wands, but I suppose holly wands—"

"No, I remember now. I was having an argument with a friend and he threw a hex at me. That was probably how it got like this," Honey said, gesturing at the cloth. "Do you have any extra holly wands? Ones you haven't put a core in yet?"

"Yes, I do."

"May I purchase them, please?"

After leaving Ollivander's Wand Shop, Honey headed straight home to retrieve a few things. Her parents were out and she gave strict orders to the house-elves not to tell them of her visit. Alone in her bedroom, Honey sat cross-legged on the floor, a large book of wand-lore open on her lap. She had read the book many times and could quote it word for word, but the more she thought about the material in the book the more curious she became about its contents.

Wands are quasi-sentient magical instruments through which a witch or wizard channels his or her magical powers...Wands are referred to as "quasi-sentient" because they are as close to animate as inaminate objects can get. This is because they are imbued with a great deal of magic...Each wand is made of a specific type of wood, with a magical substance making up the core. Although the wand cores may come from the same creature, or the wood may come from the same tree, no two existing wands are exactly alike.

Generally, wands are long, thin rods of wood with a magical substance embedded into their core. Some of the woods used include holly, hawthorn, hazel, oak, cherry, vine, rowan, ivy, rosewood, blackthorn, willow, elm, ash, mahogany, yew, birch, and elder. The cores that have been documented are Phoenix feather, dragon heartstring, Veela hair, unicorn hair, and thestral tail hair.

The core of a wand is a magical substance placed within the length of wood. The materials used for wand cores can vary widely, though certain wand-makers may prefer to use certain materials; for example, Garrick Ollivander, owner of Ollivander's Wand Shop, discovered and pioneered the use of Phoenix feathers, dragon heartstrings, and unicorn tail hairs, whereas his father used lesser substances such as Kelpie hair.

The core type is known to influence the "personality" of the wand in which it is used. For example, the wand-maker Ollivander will not use Veela hair for cores because he believes it makes for "temperamental" wands. Thestral hair wands are also interesting to note in that they cannot simply be "mastered" by winning them; thestral tail hair is a powerful and tricky substance that can only be mastered by a witch or wizard capable of facing death.

Placing the book to one side, Honey directed her attention to the plate in front of her. The ashes of her wand lay on a plate over a holder. She considered whether or not her idea would work. Since there was nothing to lose, she decided to go ahead and do it. With a needle she pricked her finger and let her blood drip on the center of the plate. As she chanted the ancient incantation, the drop of blood started to boil and rise, absorbing the ashes around it. When the red liquid became solid, she cautiously picked it up and laid it on her new holly wand. Solid transferred to liquid: the wand soaked in the mixture of blood and ashes like it was a sponge.

The unicorn hair had sacrificed itself for her. She felt like she would be betraying it if she used a different unicorn's hair to replace it. So she had opted to replace it with something else. Something personal.

Honey's hand shook as she reached for her wand. The moment she curled her fingers around the dark wood it glowed red and magic creaked around her.

Wands may have magic in them, but they are merely instruments that aid wizards and witches in focusing their magic from their bodies into the core of their wands and directing the outlet to the tip of the wand. Eleven was the proper age for a wizard or witch to learn to harness his or her magic. After frequent use of a wand over the years, the magic would become accustomed to the route and continue to expel it at that particular point.

Honey theorized that the magic in her had become so used to roaming freely for so long that it refused to be ordered in one direction. But what if she made the wand become a part of her—an extension of herself? It might work.

Taking a deep breath, Honey concentrated her wand on the closed book on the floor. With a flick of her wand, she said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The book rose off the floor and hovered above her head, then returned to its place.

She was about to celebrate her success when she realized something. How would she know if it was the wand that had cast the spell and not her wandless magic? She needed to test the wand to see if it really worked for her.

She took off her shoe and dropped it on the floor. She placed the wand on the edge of the bed, with its top end pointed at the shoe. Standing a few feet away from the wand, she concentrated her magic on it and repeated, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The wand rose from the bed and hovered in the air. Moving her attention from the wand, which was still in the air, she turned to the shoe. "Accio shoe!" The shoe moved an inch toward her and then toward the wand, as if it was conflicted on which direction to go. Honey pointed her finger at the wand, willing the shoe to go to the wand and not her. Sweat beading her brow, she fell on the floor when she lost concentration. Nothing was left of the wand but a burnt spot on the bed. The shoe was torn in half, one end of it by her and the other next to the where the wand had been. Honey got to her feet and headed for the door.

With her head held high and legs moving swiftly, Honey walked up the spiral staircase she had once dreaded. Before she used to keep her eyes down and count the steps to distract herself from the tight, dizzying circles. Normally towards the middle she would be panting and fighting to catch her breath, her legs aching. No more would she have to cling onto the walls for support or be nervous within the tight space.

At the top of the stairs she reached a door. There was no handle and no keyhole: nothing but a plain expanse of aged wood and a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Reaching out a hand, she knocked once, and in the silence the sound of a cannon blasted. At once the eagle's beak opened, but instead of a bird's call, a soft, musical voice said, "I have a face and no ending form. Arms of multiple numbers. What am I and what is my purpose?"

"You're a clock," said Honey. "You're meant to keep track of time."

"Hurry before yours runs out," said the voice, and the door swung open.

Standing with her back to the threshold, Honey turned her head and looked at the door. "Perfect. Now you're giving me ominous warnings."

The empty Ravenclaw common room was a wide, circular room. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue and bronze silks. By day the Ravenclaws would have a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. The ceiling was domed and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. There were tables, chairs, and bookcases, and in a niche opposite the door stood a tall, white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. Beside it was a door that led to the dormitories above.

Honey strode right up to the marble woman. "You know the real danger hasn't appeared until a knocker starts talking to you. Wonder whose ghost I'm going to see next?"

She walked up the stairs to her room and strolled past the rows of four-poster beds to get to hers. Taking off her cloak, she folded it on her bed.

"Engorgio," she whispered, turning her trunk back to its normal size. Opening the trunk, she took out her grandfather's mini-portrait and placed it on its usual spot on her nightstand. Her grandfather yawned and stretched without a care in the world, knowing nothing of her ordeal in the past week.

"Good morning," she said to him.

"Dum...dore dead yet?" he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Ignoring him, she fished an extra school robe out of the trunk and headed for the bathroom. While taking off her robes, the sleeve got caught on something. She pulled the fabric back and saw that it was her bracelet, one she'd had for a very long time, although she didn't remember how long. She'd never paid it much attention before; it had just always been on her wrist, a part of her. Maybe she'd owl her mother about it later and ask her.

She turned on the shower, and as the hot water sprinkled on her, Honey turned her head and looked at her naked reflection in the full-length mirror across from the shower stall. While she was in the hospital her parents had charmed everything in her room not to reflect her image. She figured it out one day when one of her uncles brought her a bouquet of flowers. He conjured a glass vase to place them in and put it on top of the nightstand, right next to her. Her mother was furious when she came in the room and saw the vase. With a look of regret, Honey's uncle had quickly turned the glass into stone.

Honey pretended like nothing was wrong, but she'd seen it, her reflection on the vase. Seen that she was no longer beautiful. Seen how she was reduced to nothing but skin and bones. Scars from large rough, white lines to small indentations decorated her skin. She looked like a starving bird who had been beaten and plucked clean of her feathers.

"Who are you?" she whispered to the girl in the mirror.

"I'm you," the girl replied.

Honey shook her head. "No, you can't be." This girl with flawless, glowing skin and lush curves was not her. The person staring back at her was a stranger.

"Your dorm mates enchanted the mirror to show their reflections as beautiful," said the girl in the mirror.

Honey blinked, pulled from her thoughts. "Really?" It could be true that the talking reflection was always there; she might not have noticed it before. She did everything she could to avoid looking at her own reflection for fear of seeing how much worse she had gotten.

"Yes. I'm supposed to compliment them, too. But you look deathly pale and thin. Are you sick?"

"Well, I haven't slept in days," said Honey, inclining her head. "I'm very tired and thought I was hallucinating. I was contemplating destroying you."

"Goodness, don't! I'm just an innocent mirror. Don't break me—you're pale, yes, but you're gorgeous pale—"

"Enough. I won't break you," said Honey. She stepped out of the stall and grabbed a towel to wrap around herself. She was glad it was just a harmless enchanted mirror. For a moment there she'd thought she was going mad. She put on some clean robes, opened the door, and then stopped.

"Spoke too soon," she murmured, taking in her surroundings. In place of the hallway of Ravenclaw Tower was a desert of sand. Looking back at the bathroom, she saw that it had transformed into a dark cave. "I'm losing my mind. Wonderful."

Deciding not to step out into the hot desert, she turned around and wandered into the cave, feeling that it would be safer for her. Blinded by the darkness, she continued on by feeling her way through. As she ventured further and further, the cave began to feel like a tunnel that was getting smaller and smaller. Unable to stand on her legs because of the small space, Honey went down on her hands and knees and crawled. She crawled until she could not feel her arms any more and her legs were numb and stiff. The space was tight enough now that she had to crawl on her belly. Many times she wanted to quit and turn back, but she couldn't. Something was preventing her.

Seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, her heart raced. She doubled her efforts to reaching it. At last she was there. Emerging from the dark tunnel and into a lake of fresh, clear water, she had transformed into something, a creature of some sort that could breathe underwater. She couldn't see herself but she felt that she was different. She was no longer human. And she didn't care...

That night Evie Stone woke up to use the bathroom. On her way back to bed she noticed that Honey had returned. The bed curtains were closed, but Honey's trunk was clearly visible in the moonlight. Evie tried to go back to sleep but couldn't. Something was keeping her up, a muffed sound or something. She sat up and glanced around the room, searching for where it was coming from. Seeing movement from the curtains around Honey's bed, Evie thought Honey was having a nightmare and kicking her curtains. Dismissing it, Evie attempted to go back to sleep but still couldn't. The noise was driving her mad. Finally having had enough, she got out of bed and pulled Honey's curtains aside just a little to see what was wrong.

Honey was lying on her side facing Evie, one arm on top of the other, fisting the sheets. With her legs together, Honey pulled her knees to her stomach, her back arching out. Then she pushed both legs down, straightening her body, arching forward. She was twitching and jerking from one position to the other in an almost snake-like manner. It was disturbing to watch, but Evie couldn't look away.

After a while Honey stopped moving, as if the nightmare she was having was over. Relieved that she could sleep now, Evie was about to close the curtain and return to her bed when Honey's head suddenly jerked in Evie's direction and her eyes opened. Honey was staring right at her with yellow slit-eyes. They were inhuman, resembling the eyes of a cat or a reptile rather than her usual blue.

Evie covered her mouth with both hands, not letting the frightened gasp escape. Slowly she stepped backward toward her bed. Jumping onto the bed, she pulled the covers over her head with trembling hands and lay there shaking for the rest of the night.

"Where have you been?" Becky asked Honey the next morning.

"I thought you said you'd only be gone for two weeks. It's been nearly a month," stated Meredith.

Honey smiled as Becky and Meredith welcomed her back in their unique way as she entered the common room from the stairs. "Something came up. Nothing serious," she told them. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

"Loads," they said. Each taking one of her arms, they led her to their usual couches and began gossiping.

"Umbridge's been appointed as Hogwarts High Inquisitor, going around inspecting classes, and Potter got detention with her for speaking out about Cedric," said Meredith.

"Poor Harry," muttered Becky, who had a serious crush on him and believed him when he claimed that You-Know-Who had returned, in spite of the Daily Prophet making snide allusions to him for months.

"Poor Harry?" Meredith glared at her. "Cedric's the one who's dead!" she half-shouted, half-whispered, then she broke into a sob. "My poor, sweet Cedric..."

Becky and Honey patted Meredith's back. She'd been secretly in love with Cedric since her first year. She was beyond devastated when news of his death reached her ears.

"If only...if only..." Meredith's lips trembled as if she was unable to finish her sentence. "If only Chang hadn't stolen him from me."

"She couldn't have stolen him from you, Meredithn" Becky reminded her. "He was never yours. Besides, Cho's very nice."

Meredith wiped her eyes and turned to Becky with an evil grin. "I heard she's after Harry Potter now that Cedric's gone."

"That man-stealing hussy!" hissed Becky. "As if it wasn't bad enough she stole Cedric from you. Now she's after my Harry."

Honey cleared her throat. Although she was finding Becky's sudden change of opinion amusing, she wanted to hear about what else had happened while she was gone. But her friends weren't paying her much attention as they continued talking about Harry Potter and Cho Chang.

"Did you hear that rumor about how Potter murdered Cedric or purposely let him die, just so he could swoop in and take Chang?" asked Meredith.

"That's complete rubbish!" said Becky.

"I know," Meredith agreed. "I admit Chang has a pretty face and all, but really, she's not beautiful enough to kill for."

"Harry did no such thing. I'm sure he did his best trying to save Cedric," Becky huffed. She took a few parchments from her bag and started folding them into cranes. She did it often as a way to relax herself and vent her frustrations and anger, losing herself in her craft and tuning out her surroundings.

Now that Becky was lost to her, Meredith turned to Honey. "Students are splitting into groups: ones who believe him, ones who don't, and ones who plain don't care."

"Do you believe him, Meredith? Do you believe You-Know-Who has returned?"

Meredith glanced left and right before inching closer to Honey and dropping her voice. "Yes, I do, but I'm not going about announcing it. This is a very delicate matter. One wrong word and you'll turn into a target. My uncle works at the Ministry. He told me all about how Umbridge handles her business. I can't even imagine what she's doing to Potter." She shook her head sympathetically, then leaned back when someone walked past her chair.

In a normal tone she said, "And Grubbly-Plank wants us to sketch Bowtruckles for her. Remember to label all of its body parts."

"And McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus spell and the essay for Sprout on self-fertilizing shrubs," said Evie as she entered their circle and cautiously settled down, studying Honey intensely.

"I've already finished the majority of them yesterday in the Library," said Honey.

"You did?" said Meredith. "What about your dream diary for Trelawney?"

"Yes, I have loads of good ones for her to read."

Meredith and Evie looked at Honey expectantly, as well as Becky, who had stopped folding her cranes. They found Honey's dreams fascinating to listen to because they were never boring. She was very secretive and guarded and her recounting of her dreams gave them more insight into her character.

"I don't remember much, but I dreamed that I was trapped in a hot desert." Honey closed her eyes, attempting to envision the dream she'd had yesterday, which was beginning to fade from her memory. "Somehow it turned into a dark tunnel. I was crawling—well, I think I was. Hmm...then I was...I was in the Black Lake, swimming. I could breathe underwater. I-I think I transformed into an animal."

"What kind of animal?" asked Becky.

"I don't know," Honey told them, "But whatever I was, I was happy. I was swimming in the water without a care, without worries. I can still smell it. The fresh water. The feel of the gentle waves on my body. It was so...peaceful."

"It could be a sign," said Evie, "Maybe your dream was trying to tell you what your Animagus form is. You might be some sort of water creature that...that...slith—swims."

"Or you were creating a happy place for yourself," suggested Meredith, her eyes moving to Becky and her cranes and then back to Honey. "To help you cope with your stress over O.W.L.s, like some people do."

"Or maybe you're channeling the emotions of a creature in the Black Lake," suggested Becky.

"Or it could be a normal, common dream," said Honey.

Her friends stared at her for a moment, then blinked. "Yeah, it could be that, too," said Becky and Meredith, nodding in agreement.

"What is it, Evie?" asked Honey, seeing that her friend had a strange look on her face.

Evie glanced uncomfortably at Meredith and Becky, then at Honey, wordlessly asking her permission to say it in front of the other two. "Nothing. I was, um...thinking about...stuff."

When Honey entered the shadowy Divination room later, Professor Trelawney stared at her for two long minutes before walking up to her, circling around her, and looking her up and down. Honey stood still as a board, letting Professor Trelawney inspect her. This was the class Honey had been waiting for. The one she dreaded, yet anticipated.

"The dark cloud has thinned," Trelawney said thoughtfully. "You're out of danger for now, but I see a storm brewing in the distance. Let me see the start you've made on your dream diary, please."

Honey took her dream diary from her bag and handed it to Professor Trelawney.

"A crow—you're flying to your death...a bat—oh no, no, you're not flying to your death. Something is going to fly at you, causing death...hmm...a desert...you're going to be buried alive. Climbing through a dark tunnel...you're descending into darkness. Water—swimming? You're going to drown. Yes, yes, drown. Sink to the bottom," said Professor Trelawney as she read the contents, flipping page after page. "You transformed into an animal?" she asked Honey, looking up from the diary and surveying her through her hugely magnifying lenses.

"Yes," replied Honey, not letting Professor Trelawney' predictions of her gruesome and early death bother her. Although after what had happened with Tommy, she wasn't quite sure if Professor Trelawney's word were a mere joke or if she really saw Honey's death.

"What sort of animal?"

"I don't know," said Honey, debating whether she should tell Professor Trelawney about what she thought she had turned into. "I was...I was a snake. Maybe."

Honey's dream diary slid from Trelawney's hands, dropping onto the floor. "A—a snake, you say? A snake?"

"Maybe."

Trelawney gave a dramatic gasp. Honey would have found it comedic if she hadn't been certain it somehow meant she was going to die in another horrible manner.

"You're going to find yourself a lover!"

"What?" Honey shook her head, not believing what she was hearing, "Don't you mean I'm gonna get swallowed by a snake or something? A-and die."

Trelawney grasped Honey's hands. "No. You're going to meet your lover. Your husband."

Honey recoiled, shocked at what Professor Trelawney was saying. "A husband?" Although she was at the proper age to have a boyfriend, she'd never thought of having one, let alone a husband, mostly because all the Healers had told her she could never have children. The injuries on her legs and pelvis had been too severe; bone fragments had severed her Fallopian tubes.

She could not have children.

She would never have children. She had never, ever thought she would meet a man who would accept her for the way she was and not want her for her money. But she didn't care. She was already used to being alone.

"He'll give you what you wish for most in life."

Uncertain of how to respond, Honey remained silent, thinking over Professor Trelawney's words as she made her way back through the corridors.

He'll give you what you wish for most in life...

"Oh, Miss Sheridan." Honey turned around and was greeted by Professor Umbridge. "How was your check-up, my dear? I was so worried when you didn't returned according to your schedule," Umbridge said in her high-pitched voice, breathy and little-girlish.

Honey smiled politely. "As mentioned in the letter I sent, I was held back for further examinations."

"Nothing serious, I hope," said Umbridge, her large, round eyes bulging in concern. Feeling the urge to tease, Honey said, "It was just a precaution. But if something's amiss...I might have to move back to France to be closer to my Healer."

"Oh, no! It would be a shame for Hogwarts to lose such a gifted student."

And her parents' donations to the Ministry, thought Honey. Her parents were donating money to the Ministry as a bribe for them to look after her and make sure her first school year was as pleasant as possible.

"You're far too kind," said Honey, and she excused herself. She didn't want to be in company with the toad woman any longer. Seeing how fake she was made Honey feel sick, and she realized she needed to heed these ill feelings she'd been having and listen to the voices. Tommy had already proved she was a poor judge of character. Umbridge may act nice and kind, but for all Honey knew she might be a murderous lunatic, too. Honey's instincts were good, but she had stupidly chosen to ignore them. Not any more.

After all of her classes were over, Honey went into the Chamber of Secrets through the hidden passageway underneath a staircase on the ground floor. She had brought Tommy a plate of food from the kitchen. As she approached the bed in the middle of the Chamber, she found that it was empty. Calmly placing the plate on the chair next to the bed, she glanced about the Chamber in search of him. He wasn't difficult to find, seeing as he'd left a bloody trail for her to follow.

"Going somewhere?"

With his injuries Tommy hadn't got too far. In fact, he was lying against a wall a few feet away from her, hiding in the shadows. His bandages were soaked with blood and filthy from crawling on the dirty floor. It seemed as if he was desperate to get away but didn't have enough strength to move.

"I told you to behave," said Honey. Chains appeared from the four corners of the bed and flew towards Tommy.

"No!" he screamed as the chains circled his legs and dragged him back to the bed.

Honey picked up the plate and sat down on the chair. "I brought you food."

Tommy responded to her cool attitude by spitting out line after line of foul speech while he pulled at his restraints.

"You must be hungry. Eat, Tommy," she said, putting the spoon against his lips.

Tommy turned his head away and pressed his lips together.

Honey stood from the chair and set the plate down. "I don't want you to starve."

"No."

"It tastes delicious."

"No."

"All right. If you're going to be difficult, then fine." She grabbed Tommy's jaw and turned his head, forcing him to face her. Holding his face with one hand, with the other she produced a plastic tube from her pocket. She forced his mouth open and pushed the tube down his throat, making sure it was secured. She picked up the plate and stirred the food around with the spoon, trying to make everything mushy and creamy. "Don't worry about the internal bleeding." She tapped the tube with the spoon. "I've got something for that. I'm an expert, you know."
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Tom Riddle's Redemption