Chapter 6
September 3rd, 1943
Tom
“That bitch needs to pay!” Dolohov shouts the moment I silence the empty classroom.
Malfoy snickers, “What, didn’t like giving us all a show? Or was it the lack of payment afterwards that has your knickers in a twist.”
Dolohov scowls at him, which only makes Malfoy’s laughter gain volume. After the last class of the day, I called a meeting. Having my theory that Hope Mikaelson doesn’t need a wand confirmed means that I now need to find a way to make that information work for me.
“Gentlemen, please,” I start, waiting for the room full of boys to quiet. “I need you all to write home, tell your families you have assignments on sharing or transferring magical abilities from one being to another. Any information you find, you are to give to me.”
My men look at me with hesitant but curious expressions, with plenty of shared glances and shuffling of feet.
Cygnus Black clears his throat, “Forgive me, my Lord. But, do you mean to use this knowledge against Ms. Mikaelson, or…”
Based on the continued glances between my followers, I assume they’re worried I’m planning on stealing their magic. I suppose I can’t fault them for wondering, given how often I curse them when disappointed.
Offering a small smile, I reassure them, “You have nothing to fear, I simply refuse to be the second most powerful student in this school. Seeing as Ms. Mikaelson can influence wild magic, I plan to…relieve her of such a burden.”
That makes my men snicker and relax, all of them happy to be spared from my magic. I hear musings of how a ritual like this might take place, how much more powerful I’ll be after, and wondering how much the girl will scream and fight filters through the room.
“If it barely hurts, I do believe she has already tempted me to get her on her back,” Dolohov sneers, his eyes alight with rage. “Either way, Mikaelson won’t be leaving Hogwarts in one piece. I promise you that.”
Rolling my eyes, I interrupt their pointless goading, “No one touches her until I say. First, someone needs to gain her trust, which I believe not one of you has successfully achieved or even attempted. I’ll be throwing my hat in the ring, and you don’t want to know what my prize will be if I beat all of you to her secrets.”
The feral smile I plaster on my face makes everyone shift nervously or audibly gulp. After looking each man in the eye, so they know I’m serious, I leave the room. Not bothering to wait for anyone to follow, let them craft their own plans.
I have a Mikaelson to crack open.
**********************
Hope
Sighing, I flop down into a chair. This is not going to be pleasant.
“I thought we agreed you would try your best with the wand?” Dumbledore implores from behind his desk.
He has his fingers pressed together as he leans back in his chair, looking every bit the scolding professor.
Fiddling with my fingers, I respond, “We did. But, I genuinely think I will go insane if I have to continue using the least amount of magic possible to perform each spell. Either, I don’t try hard enough and the spell fails or my irritation from trying so hard gets in the way of the execution. Can’t I just continue with how I took those O.W.L.’s?”
After I broke my wand, it was such a relief using magic again. It was like I had to fold and push my magic down into the smallest mold possible, shattering that wand allowed my magic to stretch and preen. I hadn’t realized just how hard I was working to fit in, how exhausted or frustrated I was becoming, but all that really did was make me stand out for all the wrong reasons.
“Is using a wand truly so terrible?” He asks, looking mainly curious.
Nodding, I confirm that thought, and use my eyes to plead with the man. He said that if I really gave it a go, he would fight for me if things did not work out. Well, it certainly did not work out, no matter how often I practiced.
Over a month wasted on fiddling with the thing, and I still couldn’t get it to work right. Honestly, the fact that I didn’t just snap it in two and throw it into a fire should be proof enough that I tried.
Dumbledore sighs, sitting up and stroking his beard, “In that case, I suppose we ought to go speak with Dippet before dinner truly starts.”
My mouth flies open and my eyes widen in surprise. I really thought I would have to work to convince him, detail my practice sessions, or at least talk about how I asked Mary Weasley for help. But no, he’s already standing, offering me his arm so we can walk out of his office together.
Jumping up, I run over and throw my arms around him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
He chuckles as I release him, his eyes twinkling, and I take his arm and follow his lead. After a couple days of being brought from one area to another, I’m finally starting to get a hang of the castle. Now, I anticipate when he’ll turn on our way to the Great Hall instead of blindly following along.
This makes me excited for two reasons; first, because this means that I can finally go off on my own to classes or the library without needing a buddy. Second, and most important, I can start exploring and looking for the hidden secrets I know this castle holds.
Once we reach the Great Hall, I can see that about half the student body is seated and waiting for the feast to appear. The staff table, on the other hand, is nearly completely full. Only Dumbledore is missing from the line up.
“Headmaster!” Dumbledore rumbles with a kind expression. “Are you free to converse about a small matter before dinner begins?”
Dippet seems surprised, but more than happy to speak with us.
Clearing his throat, Dippet bellows, “Of course, Dumbledore! Ahh, Ms. Mikaelson, how are your first days going?”
“That’s actually what I wanted to discuss, Headmaster,” I start, peaking at Dumbledore’s encouraging smile before continuing. “Using a wand doesn’t seem to be working well for me. I was hoping you would allow me to continue testing how I did during the O.W.L.’s? Where I perform the magic and wand movements separately?”
Biting my lip, I cross every finger and toe I can. Having Dumbledore on my side helps, but at the end of the day, Dippet is who has the final say.
He looks startled, but then a grin stretches across his face, “Well, I had heard a little rumor about a student’s wand imploding. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you.”
Blushing fiercely, I look at my feet and nod. I was really hoping that gossip took a while to travel among the staff. It’s troubling to know that only hours later, the Headmaster will hear about your antics.
“There’s no reason to look so troubled,” Dippet tells me with a light chuckle. “I am thrilled to have such a powerful student walking these halls. As long as you understand that you will be tested on wand movements, theory, and what not, I see no issue on signing off on your specialized testing.”
Looking back at him, I can’t hold in my excitement. Jumping just once, I let out a little squeak of happiness.
“Thank you, sir. Truly, this will make everything so much easier,” I tell him, my face starting to hurt with how big my smile is.
Dippet shakes his head, him and Dumbledore sharing a look of fond exasperation before he continues, “Yes, it is no trouble. Over the next few days, I will ensure each of your professors are aware of the circumstances. Perhaps, Professor Dumbledore will be kind enough to purchase you another wand?”
Turning to look at him, I catch Dumbledore nodding his assent. After thanking them both and saying my goodbyes, I run to the Ravenclaw table, barreling into Mary. She nearly falls into Anthony Potts, both laughing at my eagerness.
“Woah, what’s with all the excitement?” Mary asks between chuckles.
I’m bouncing in my seat, “Dippet is letting me test without having to use a wand! Okay, well, that isn’t exactly true. I’m still going to be tested on wand movements, but I don’t have to perform magic using one!”
Mary shrieks and pulls me into a big hug, rocking me back and forth and mubbling how happy she is for me in my ear. Anthony looks surprised, but genuinely pleased for me.
“That’s great, Hope. If that means more classes like today, I honestly cannot wait to see more of what you have up your sleeve,” he tells me with a smile.
********************
September 4th, 1943
Hope
Today is going to be absolutely amazing, I just know it. It’s the first Friday, I don’t have to struggle with a wand, and word has spread of my magical prowess.
There won’t be a repeat of my first day, I don’t have to prove any rumors wrong, and I don’t have any classes with the Slytherins. Dumbledore said he’ll get me a wand over the weekend, just a simple one. It doesn’t need to choose me seeing as I won’t be using it for magic, just for form and technique.
With the weekend to look forward to, the Great Hall is a buzz with voices. For the first time it isn’t making my skin crawl, and I sit blissfully with Mary knowing that I’m not the topic of conversation.
“Tomorrow, do you want to hang out by the Lake? Taylor, Amanda, and I always spend the first Saturday relaxing in the sun. You should come,” Mary tells me while she spreads jam over her toast.
Smiling at her, “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”
“Hey, Mary. Hello, Hope,” Anthony greets as he sits across from us. “Any exciting plans for class today?”
I chuckle at his wiggling eyebrows but shake my head, “No, nothing special. Sorry to disappoint.”
He just shrugs and starts filling his plate with food. Looking around the Ravenclaw table, I almost giggle at all the eyes currently trained on us. Over the last few days, I’ve come to realize that Anthony Potts is the stud of Ravenclaw tower.
He’s very handsome, has the boy next door look with shaggy brown hair and soft, masculine features. I think the bright green eyes and silly demeanor are what truly seals the deal for most of the girls. Anthony has been kind, even when I was shunned by most of the tower, he would still offer me a kind smile. But, the little bit of fame he has occasionally goes to his head.
Once we’re done with breakfast, the three of us start heading towards Charms when a voice stops me.
“Ms. Mikaelson, how are you today?”
Turning, I find Abraxas Malfoy just a few feet behind me. He has his hands behind his back with a charming smile, and without any other Slytherins to back him up.
Before I can form a thought, Mary and Anthony flank me. My surprised glances towards them find two irritated expressions, and Mary is practically snarling. But, Malfoy only looks at me, waiting for my response.
Clearing my throat, “I’m doing well, and you?”
I sound just as confused as I feel, yesterday he seemed almost scared of me after my little fire fiasco during Potions. What changed between now and then?
“I am wonderful, thank you for asking,” he says, taking a step forward. “I must admit, after our class yesterday I was surprised by your actions. The more time I thought on it, the more I found you intriguing. Would you allow me to walk you to class this morning?”
Tilting my head to the side, I study him. I don’t think he’s lying, but I also can’t imagine this is him being forthcoming. Before Mary can tell Malfoy where to shove his request, I interrupt her.
“Sure, why not.”
Both Mary and Anthony jerk their heads to look at me, but I shake my head ‘no,’ with a small smile. I’m hoping my mischievousness gets across to them, Malfoy might not figure out the significance but I’m hoping Mary does. It’s the same look I gave her before dueling with Dolohov.
Offering me his arm, Malfoy looks too pleased, “Lovely, I believe you have Charms. Is that correct?”
Taking it, I share a meaningful look with Mary, and she nods. Anthony still looks confused, and a little angry, but Mary pulls him away. Hopefully, to explain that I have a reason for saying yes, even if said reason isn’t clear.
“Yes,” I tell him with a smile, turning my full attention on the Slytherin. “How did you know?”
Malfoy blushes and looks into my eyes for a few paces before looking forward and biting his lip.
“To be honest, I asked around about you. I wasn’t lying when I said I find you intriguing, and I was loath to wait until next week to walk with you to class,” he explains with a shy smile.
The ‘aww shucks’ act really doesn’t work on him, and I give him a dubious expression. Which makes him laugh and pat my hand resting in the crook of his elbow. He sets an almost slow pace, making sure we take our time on the way to my class.
I’m considered a half-blood in this world, and I’ve learned enough to realize the Malfoy’s blood supremacy was not fiction found only in the series. The Sacred Twenty-Eight actually exist, and I’m not dumb enough to think I’ve landed in a fairy tale. Despite how he’s acting, I know he doesn’t want me.
“I’m not going to call you a liar,” I start, not wanting him to make a habit of walking me around. “But I am going to let you know that I’m fully aware you aren’t telling me the whole truth. If you tell me what you actually want, I’m much more likely comply with whatever it is.”
Malfoy almost trips over his own feet, a look of panic briefly entering his eyes, before he pulls up a mask of confusion, “I am unsure of what you mean? All I want is to walk the beautiful, new girl to class. Perhaps learn a thing or two about her, is that so wrong?”
That makes me genuinely smile. One lesson I learned from being a Mikaelson, all the best lies have a kernel of truth hidden within. Just enough realism, enough true emotion to make the lie believable.
Laughing at his little slip up, I say, “What do you want to know about me? And feel free to skip the pointless, small talk questions I’m sure you have layered in to hide your real curiosities.”
This time, his mask only barely slips. Just a small down turn of his lips, before he catches himself and smiles. He joins my laughter, but it feels pretty forced.
“Well, if you want me to skip to the hard hitting questions, I see no problem with that,” he only pauses to pull me a little closer to him, smiling at the students we pass who gawk at our linked arms.
“During our Defense class, how did you manage all that wandless magic? I only ask because personally, I have only mastered a handful of spells without my wand. Selfishly, I admit I would like to learn from you.”
Shrugging, I tell him, “I spent years working on controlling my magic, there isn’t a secret I can teach you. Just hard work.”
I smile at him with an innocent expression, and Malfoy narrows his eyes slightly. He’s not the only one that can dole out half truths. I did spend years working on control, that much is true, but never was there a wand involved.
“Interesting. In your world, is there an equivalent to a wand?” he asks, looking at me intently. “I noticed you struggled to perform magic with one, and then it shattered in defense.”
His question is punctuated by our arrival at my Charms class, thank goodness. Despite him dancing around the subject, I learned something important.
Riddle and Co. have their sights set on my magic. Something tells me that when they find out they can’t learn to be like me, they’ll try something darker.
“Thank you for walking me to class, Malfoy. While this interrogation has been fun, I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’d be more willing to comply if you just came out with what you really want,” I tell him with a wink before leaving him in the hall.
Quickly moving towards an empty seat near Mary and Anthony, the pair immediately start asking me what happened and why I agreed to spend time with him.
“I think the Slytherins want something from me,” I say with an eye roll. “Malfoy wanted to ask me questions to figure out how I learned to do wandless magic or if there are wands in my world. They’re the cunning and sneaky house, right?”
Anthony takes on a troubled expression, but stays quiet. He starts biting his lip, and I mentally make a note to talk with him alone.
But Mary let’s out an angry huff, “Those snakes. You can’t trust them, Hope. I know you’re new to this world, but I’m sure that Malfoy just wants to vacation in your skirts. Then, he’ll brag to his housemates and drop you for his next conquest.”
Her bitter tone makes me tilt my head in curiosity. The Malfoy-Weasley feud was always clear in the books, but I assumed it had to do with the differing opinions on Muggles or Voldemort. But, I wonder…
“Forgive me for asking,” I say, leaning in to whisper to Mary. “But, are you speaking from experience?”
Mary’s face pinches, but she nods. Looking around the room, she makes sure that no one untrustworthy is listening before whispering back to me.
“Not personally, but yes. My family might not be the richest, but we are still considered members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. My siblings and I grew up attending various charity events and balls, and every teenage boy played the same game.
“They would seduce half-bloods or Muggle borns and keep a tally between them of how many witches they could bed and discard. I told you on the train that some people would care about your blood status, and Malfoy’s…activities are why I don’t want him anywhere near you. You deserve better than that,” she fervently explains.
Then the professor walks in, and I’m left stewing. I manage to pay enough attention to the lesson, taking notes and participating when necessary. But, my thoughts are on the Slytherins.
In a weird way, I wonder if both Mary and I are right. She wouldn’t know about Riddle and his followers, he’s a prefect and I haven’t heard one bad thing about him since arriving in this world. But, two things can be true. The Slytherins could want into my pants and want my power too.
Before Mary said something, I honestly never thought about such a normal problem. Don’t get me wrong, what she described is wrong and terrible. But, all of my theories on what they want are decidedly…darker. I’ve been so focused on the Death Eater aspect of their personalities, that I completely forgot about the testosterone and patriarchy.
Class ends and I stand up to stretch, keeping my eyes trained on Anthony. He packs his bag, but seems like his mind is far away.
“Hey, there,” I say to get his attention. “Are you alright?”
Anthony grimaces, but I think he meant for it to be a smile. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I tilt my head with a look at Mary so she knows to go ahead of us. Once nearly all the other students are out of the classroom, I try again.
“Anthony? Are you upset with me?”
He looks at me with a shocked expression, “No! No, Hope, nothing like that.”
Sighing in relief, I ask, “Then what’s going on?”
Anthony looks around, and must decide to tell me based on the way he slumps against a desk. He looks troubled, and oddly old for his young age.
“There’s something that you have to understand, but I swear this is not coming from a place of hubris or anything of the sort,” he starts, begging me with his eyes to believe him. “I would like to consider you a friend, Hope. You’re a good person who acts kinda crazy when pushed to it, but even then you don’t hurt anyone.
“But, especially after this morning, I think you are garnering all the wrong attention. Which isn’t your fault! Sorry, that came out wrong. Really, I’m worried because all the wrong people are paying attention to you. On the best of days, the Slytherins in our age have bad intentions. When it comes to you…I just have a very bad feeling.”
Slumping further, Anthony cringes like he’s waiting for me to make fun of him. Instead, I move to sit next to him and rest a hand on his shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, I answer with a kind smile, “I think we’re friends, Anthony. And, as your friend, it makes me happy to hear that you’re worried about me. But, I’ll be alright, and I know better than to trust people who so clearly want something from me.
“If I promise to be careful and to keep you and Mary in on what I think is happening, will you trust me enough to investigate? I’m sure that Mary isn’t wrong, but I also don’t think she sees the full picture. I also have a bad feeling about this, which is why I need to figure out what’s going on.”
He studies my expression, giving me the impression that he’s testing if I truly realize that I might be in danger. Even if that danger is only being used by teenage boys for some dumb contest.
After a moment, he nods and slings an arm around my shoulders. Anthony is a cool guy, and I’m far from the first person to think so. But, it is nice to meet a popular boy who is still down to Earth enough to be a good friend.
Making our way out of the empty classroom, chatting about our next class, I jump in surprise after crossing the threshold.
“Ms. Mikaelson,” Tom Riddle says from my left, leaning against the wall. “You look lovely today, I am hoping you would allow me to accompany you to your next class?”
I just can’t get away from them today, apparently. Anthony drops his arm from my shoulders, but looks to me for an answer. Smiling, I nod first to let him know that I’ll be fine, then again once he gives me a pointed look. When he’s confident that his warning has gotten across, he walks away without a word to Riddle.
“What do you want, Riddle?” I ask, barely trying to sound pleasant.
My ire no longer affects his mask, which is slightly irritating. He also doesn’t answer me, Tom simply offers me his arm with a kind smile. Well, it would be kind, if his eyes weren’t looking at me with a scary kind of hunger.
We are walking for a while before he finds his voice, “Why don’t you need a wand to do magic?”
I nearly trip I’m so surprised. Not only that he suddenly spoke, but that he’s actually asking. Turning to his smug expression, I narrow my eyes. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, but I manage to keep my face moderately neutral.
“Wow, the first statement from a Slytherin I don’t need to decode on my own. To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask with mock politeness.
My goal was to irritate him, but his smile just stretches, “Is there a reason you are so loath to answer that particular question?”
“Yes,” I say, glaring at him. “I’m surprised none of the cunning Slytherins have figured it out. I mean, if the tables were turned and I asked you, would you answer honestly?”
Raising an eyebrow, I challenge him to say he would. In this world, I may not know Tom Riddle at all, but that just plays into my point. Why should I answer to strangers that want nothing more than to take advantage of me? That’s the only conclusion a woman could possibly come to, regardless of if they know about Tom’s…darker activities.
Riddle chuckles and leans his head down to my level before answering me, “If you were asking me questions, I’d ask what you would be willing to do for the information.”
Scrunching my face, I give him the disgusted look that answer deserves. I guess Mary really was right. But, Riddle just keeps on smiling, completely unbothered by the looks I shoot his way. I don’t know what’s more irritating; him pretending like he’s a decent person or the nefarious flirting.
“Well, maybe if any of you had bothered to try to be my friend, I’d tell you my secrets. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how off putting it is to have people sniffing around and trying to weasel information out of you,” I tell him with an eye roll.
We arrive at my next class and I don’t bother to say anything or wait for him to. Anthony and Mary are relieved to see me, but I can’t bring myself to smile.