„You seem to be on better terms with Tom now, if my observations in Transfiguration are any indicator."
Hermione scowled. Certainly, over the course of the last week, she and Riddle had developed a professional coexistence. Dumbledore was not the first teacher who noticed how much time they spend together during classes. Just yesterday she would have confirmed it enthusiastically. But after what happened the evening before, Hermione was no longer sure. That made her hesitate before she finally replied: "It seems like it. Though I fear that was all just a lie on his part. Just as I only pretend that I want to get to know him better."
Dumbledore eyed her with obvious concern while they continued their way down to Hogsmeade in silence. Hermione felt his gaze and understood that he wanted her to explain herself further. Only, she could not. What existed between her and Tom Riddle was nothing she could put into simple words. Especially not in front of Dumbledore of all people. Even thinking about telling him that Riddle felt sexually attracted to her in his own sick way was absurd.
With a sigh, she changed the topic. "I am really grateful that you are willing to attend the opening of my salon. Professor Slughorn already assured me that you would comply, but when I finished writing the invitations, I suddenly felt rude to announce you as my guest without asking first."
"My dear Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted her with a smile, "You don't need to worry about these things. Not only am I officially your uncle and thus always on your side. I also understand perfectly well that all your actions help our cause. Whenever you need my help, I will be there for you."
Hermione answered him with a warm smile herself. Even though she was not able to tell him everything, it still was immensely calming to know a powerful wizard like Dumbledore stood unwaveringly at her side.
Silently, they walked next to each other. Hermione started to wonder, where exactly Dumbledore wanted to go with her. He had called her to his bureau this Sunday afternoon and invited her to a stroll to Hogsmeade. She was sure, though, that he did not simply want to take a walk with her, but had a specific goal in mind. When they slowly approached the other side of the village, a sudden idea popped in her head.
"Are we going to the Hog's Head Inn?" she asked cautiously. She was not sure whether Dumbledore's brother already was the owner of this dodgy taverna at this time, but if he was, the purpose of their stroll suddenly was very obvious.
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up in visible confusion. "Exactly right. What led you to that conclusion?"
"I …," Hermione started, but she immediately stopped herself. Would it be too much if she admitted that Aberforth would still be working here in fifty years? Probably not, which conclusion would Dumbledore be able to draw from that information anyway? She shook her head and explained, "Your brother is working there, isn't he? Aberforth Dumbledore, who allegedly is my father."
She saw the fire of curiosity light up in his eyes, but Dumbledore did not probe her any further. Instead, he confirmed, "Right again, my dear. I thought it would be only appropriate if you met your father in reality at last. He knows of our little lie as I wrote him a letter, so he is prepared to meet you in person."
Flinching, Hermione bit her tongue. She almost would have asked Dumbledore how it came that he exchanged letters with his brothers so naturally. There was the incident with Ariana, after all. In 1944, it had been a long time since their younger sister's death, but if the hatred Aberforth felt for Dumbledore in 1998 was still so potent, it would be even stronger now. The death of their little sister was caused by a fight between the two brothers. And Grindelwald. But if she acknowledged that she knew about that, knew about his relationship to the currently still active Gellert Grindelwald, even a highly regarded wizard like Dumbledore would ask questions and demand answers. Grindelwald was still terrorising the wizarding world, and she did not know when Dumbledore would actually go and defeat him in the legendary duel. She doubted Dumbledore would like knowing how much she knew about his personal life.
Nervously, Hermione followed him to the small, dimly lit pub that was rather empty on this Sunday afternoon. The innkeeper noticed them immediately, and, without even addressing them, gestured towards a door through which he then stepped himself.
With an apologetic look, Dumbledore told Hermione, "My brother isn't a man of many words. Please do not think that he is rude. It's just …"
"It's fine, sir," Hermione interrupted him with a crooked grin. She remembered all too well how much had been needed to persuade Aberforth to help them back in 1998. Upon meeting him for the first time, Hermione had assumed he was an evil, old man. After a while though, she came to the conclusion that while he was definitely cynical and weary, he had a soft, good heart. This younger version of Aberforth already appeared to be similar.
"Miss Granger," he greeted her after she had followed him to the little room.
It appeared to be a second, less often used taproom, because there were tables for guests, too, though the heavy layer of dust indicated that it had not seen any use in a long time. The golden light of the sunset trickled through a single window, dimmed by dirt, tinting the room in twilight. Other than tables and some chairs there was nothing in this room, no paintings, no candles or lamps, and of course no fire place. Sceptically, Hermione eyed the chair that Aberforth Dumbledore gestured her to sit on. She could not see any dust on it, so he had to have prepared it in advance. It did not appear that much cleaner, though. Giving him a weak smile, she sat down.
"So, you're my daughter from America," Aberforth opened the conversation, skipping any small talk.
His direct approach, not caring for polite verbiage, cutting to the chase immediately, made her nervous. Unsure of herself, she gazed at her professor, but he suddenly appeared a lot more hostile, too.
Annoyed, Hermione shrugged. If both men decided to behave like little boys, it was of no concern to her. She simply wanted to get to know the man pretending to be her father. Get to know this younger Aberforth Dumbledore.
"You could say that," she finally replied with a smile. "It was the best excuse we could come up with on the spot."
"And who is the lady that allegedly carried my bastard child?"
Surprised, Hermione leaned back in her chair. She suddenly realised that as of yet, she did not even have a name for her mother. Again, she looked at Dumbledore for help, but he still sat there, arms crossed, his gaze stubbornly fixed on the window.
Shaking her head, Hermione looked back to Aberforth. "Her name is … Joan. Joan Brown. She's a muggle. You just happened to get to know her in muggle London."
"I see," the man growled. "And because I'm such an irresponsible guy, I got rid of this pregnant woman?"
Hermione blushed. "No, no, of course not! She … my mother … already had plans to emigrate to America. And you … couldn't come with her, that's why you had to leave her. She only noticed she was pregnant when she already was in America."
"And instead of accepting my responsibility, I stayed back here in England."
Suddenly, Hermione wondered whether behind these grim, insulted sounding statements in actuality lay amusement. She tilted her head and provocatively commented: "You indeed have been a horrible father for me!"
From the corner of her eyes, Hermione noticed that Dumbledore finally showed some reaction. She continued to focus on his brother, though.
For the longest time, Aberforth stared at her blankly. Then his lips curled into a devious grin: "Quick-witted, this daughter I have. I like that."
Relieved, Hermione allowed herself to drop her formal position and get comfortable in the chair. Without paying any further attention to Dumbledore's hostile vibes, she focused solely on the conversation with her so called father. Even though she could not talk about the future with him, either, and even though he was rather short-spoken, she still enjoyed talking to a second person who knew about her. She did not need to change her behaviour in front of Aberforth Dumbledore.
The sun outside was going down. Inside the Hog's Head, Hermione let herself get treated to a Butterbeer. Together with her new father, she worked on her background story. Her professor already left after some vague excuse about work and not being needed for this. Hermione was embarrassed about the rude behaviour, but Aberforth did not seem to care.
"Don't worry too much, Miss Granger," he told her after his brother had left. "Albus and I have our very own problems. His behaviour is neither a surprise nor am I hurt by it. Don't think about it too much."
With a sad look on her face, she replied, "I… I actually know what happened. Professor Dumbledore doesn't know that I know. I didn't want to show him how much I actually know about him, because that might be uncomfortable for him. I am so sorry and I wish … I don't know. Both of you lost your whole family. It's just so sad."
Aberforth's face turned hard. "I thank you for your condolence, but this is a topic I don't wish to discuss. I don't appreciate your interference."
Hermione felt heat creep up her neck and looked down on her hands. He was correct. She had no right to talk about these things as if she knew what actually happened. Nobody outside the two knew who actually spoke the curse that killed Ariana. She only knew that her professor blamed himself for it, and his brother blamed him, too. Trying to end the afternoon on a positive note, Hermione switched topics and started asking Aberforth about Hogsmeade and anything that might be different now compared to her own times.
oOoOoOo
"If we want to be back for dinner, we should leave soon."
Tom looked at Hestia, Catharine, and Marcus, a friendly smile on his lips. He had volunteered to invite the two Carrow sisters to a visit to Hogsmeade, as Marcus, who was interested in Hestia, was too shy to ask her out himself. It was even more difficult for the introverted fifth year student, because Hestia was not in Slytherin, like her twin, but in Ravenclaw.
Initially, he wanted to refuse the request, because he was not interested at all to again play match maker for someone else. It was only when he remembered that Flint as well as the Carrows belonged to the Sacred Twenty-Eight that he accepted. He counted on the benefits of having sons and daughters from those influential families in his debt.
To his dismay, Catharine obviously had misinterpreted his intentions and assumed that this afternoon would be a double date. Marcus would get closer to Hestia, and she would get closer to Tom. He quickly understood her motive when she never stopped talking to him for the entire time. His head started to ache from the sheer amount of words that came from the girl's mouth.
"Is it really that late?" Catharine complained with a frown. "We surely can stay for another half hour, can't we? You definitely don't want to go already, either, do you, dearest sister?"
Hestia though did not proof any help for her sister. Tom had observed her interested dwindling over the course of the hours spent together. Next to himself, the head boy, Marcus Flint appeared to be a weak, unnoticeable, not too attractive boy.
So, Tom was not surprised when she enthusiastically agreed with him, "No, I fear, we indeed must go now. When you spend your time with agreeable men, it always is too short."
With Catharine linking arms with him, Tom went ahead, followed by Marcus and Hestia, who very obviously had nothing left to say to each other. When they reached the main street, Tom noticed to his surprise that Hermione was approaching from the other end of the village.
Thoughtfully, he stopped and turned to Marcus. "Mr Flint, if you please, can you accompany these two young ladies back to the castle? I just spotted Miss Dumbledore down the street. She should not walk alone, so I will wait here for her."
Surprise was evident on Flint's face. "Miss Dumbledore? I didn't think you would…"
A single raised eyebrow from Tom made him instantly shut up. Everyone knew by now that this look on his face meant that he was not in a mood to hear another's opinion.
Sounding stiff, he nodded and complied. "But of course. Hestia, Catharine, let us go on ahead."
"Oh, do you really have to leave us, Mr Riddle?" Catharine protested indignantly. "Is it really necessary that you watch out for this indecent woman?"
Tom had to check his features as he was growing more and more annoyed. These young girls thought of themselves as accomplished and polite. In reality, they knew nothing but how to be coquettish and how to catch men with their aggressive flirtation and fake charm.
With an indulgent smile he explained: "A proper gentleman always behaves in a respectable manner, even when presented with an indecent person. I hope you don't actually suggest that I neglect my duty as head boy?"
While Hestia turned bright red at his words, her sister obviously knew no shame. "I don't see why this Dumbledore deserves any attention from you. But it's okay, you seem determined, and who am I to lecture you."
Catharine!" Hestia hissed and grabbed her sister's arm. "Come now, we want to go with Marcus."
With a polite bow and more words of gratitude, Tom took his leave. Without paying them any more attention, he turned around and waited until Hermione caught up to him. She obviously had noticed that he was waiting for her, as her face had turned dark upon arriving next to him. Tom smiled to himself. He knew no other person who was so bad in hiding their emotions. Hermione Dumbledore was like an open book to him, albeit one in a language he did not know. While he could read her every emotion, he still could not make sense of her.
When she finally stepped closer to him, he let an arrogant smile appear on his lips. "Miss Dumbledore, what a coincidence that we would meet here."
"Coincidence," Hermione snorted. "I was under the impression you were waiting for me. Are you following every step I take?"
"Not at all," Tom replied, still grinning. He took her arm to force her to go back together with him. "I simply happened to be in Hogsmeade as well, and I spotted you in the distance. No young lady should go to the village without a companion, don't you think?"
The sun was by now low enough to only shine through the treetops, casting long shadows on the path back up to the castle. Very few students were still in Hogsmeade, so the path was deserted. Only far in the distance the trio of Catharine, Hestia, and Marcus could still be seen. Amused, Tom noticed that Hermione too was aware of that. The grip on his arm felt tense. Still, she did not seem to be willing to give him any answer, so it was up to him to carry the conversation.
"What did you do in Hogsmeade?" Tom asked with a neutral expression. She would not be able to avoid a direct question.
"I visited my father."
Instantly, Tom stilled. She had visited her father? My parents were murdered with Unforgivables. A madman killed my father with an Avada Kedavra before torturing my mother with a Cruciatus until she went mad. I had to watch. He remembered her words all to well, remember the sadness in her voice as she told him the reason why she did not like talking about the Unforgivable Curses. She had lied to him. She had lied to him! He felt ice cold rage burn through his body. Nobody lied to him, least of all someone like Hermione who was unable to hide anything from him.
With a quick glance to both sides, Tom made sure that nobody was within view.
"So. You Visited your father," he whispered with a low, icy voice while pushing her away from the street.
He could see the fear spread through her body, but also that she did not understand his sudden change in behaviour. When her back was against a huge tree, Tom's hand shot out and grabbed her throat.
His face only inches away from hers, he hissed, "Tell me, Hermione. How do you visit a father in Hogsmeade who supposedly was killed in America?"
The confusion on Hermione's face vanished and all that was left was a ghostly white shade when she realised her mistake. With huge eyes she stared at the future Lord Voldemort in front of her.