Chapter 12
October 12th, 1943
Hope
“So, tell me again why Riddle is sitting next to you in every class we have with Slytherin?” Mary asks at dinner.
Groaning, I rest my forehead on the table, “I have no idea. He’s stopped interrogating me, now he only asks mundane questions that he could not possibly care about the answer.”
Over a week of dealing with my new shadow, and I’m still not used to his attention. After threatening him, I thought I actually scared him. Riddle spent the rest of the day sitting near me, openly starring, but not saying another word.
The next day, he broke his silence, acting just how he did in Potions before my bit of violence. Every attempt to get away or turn him off me is met with a gallant grin, and him moving even closer to me.
I’ve tried reverse psychology, walking away, ignoring him, trying to leave class early, even pretending like I want his company. We went through my list of potentials, and he had something bad to say about each and every boy. He just won’t leave me alone.
“Have you considered that he might fancy you?” Anthony asks before shoveling a fork full of food into his mouth.
I burst out in genuine laughter, and smile at my friend, “Oh, Anthony, great joke. I needed a good laugh.”
Shaking my head, I let my chuckles slowly die down before eating more food. Compared to growing up in New Orleans, Hogwarts food is pretty good. I’ve thought about looking for the kitchens, becoming friends with those cooking your meals is always a good idea. Maybe if I make them some food, I can convince them to add more spices or add a couple recipes.
“No, Anthony might be right,” Mary says with a thoughtful frown. “Despite all the attention he receives, Riddle has never shown this much interest in someone. Sure, he’s made a handful of public displays, has walked around with plenty of other girls, but never this consistently.”
Giving her a dubious expression, I roll my eyes, “I’m sure he’s just changing tactics. Have you forgotten that the Slytherins want something from me?”
Anthony makes an irritated face at his plate, “Believe me, we haven’t. I’m not saying you should pick Riddle to be your lucky bloke, but I am saying he would want to be.
“Of all the Slytherins, I suppose he’s the best. At least the most respectable. Still, with how interested the others are in you, I don’t trust him.”
For a fleeting moment, I thought that Anthony’s growing protectiveness of me came from a crush. But, between how he looks at Taylor, and the extremely platonic vibes he gives off, that theory was quickly squashed.
No, Anthony is more like the older brother I never had, and Mary is like the best friend I always wished for growing up. Both are strong willed, brilliant, and so kind.
“Don’t worry, my goal of a normal life isn’t very conducive with a life alongside a Slytherin,” I tell Anthony and pat his hand reassuringly.
***************
October 12th, 1943
Tom
She’s being weird again.
The object of my fascination, the dream I can’t escape, the temptation leading me astray. Something is amiss with her, and I am going to figure out what she’s hiding. Hope Mikaelson had the gall to threaten me, and then her magic encompassed me like a beautiful venus fly trap preparing to devour it’s prey.
Being who I am, I’m filled with dark magic. I’ve been practicing it long before I knew I was a wizard, and was one of the first things that I sought out after joining Hogwarts. The darker parts of me always call for violence, only my intellect and ambitions keep my instincts at bay.
When Hope threatened me? It was simultaneously the most exhilarating feeling while also lulling my darker instincts. I should have wanted to humiliate her, threaten her back, kill her early. Saying that my feelings are good natured would be a lie, it’s more like the shadow side of my personality felt in harmony with her.
If I was curious before her threat, now I’m ravenous. Her secrets will be mine, I will figure out what I want for her, and soon. That being said, I do have reputations to uphold. My frustrations with my lack of progress have led to me studying even harder, pushing my followers further during our meetings, but tonight I test one of my many theories having to do with Mikaelson.
“We need to do something. If that bitch thinks she can snap at me like that, then she clearly needs to learn her place,” Dolohov snarls as we leave our last class for the day.
“I don’t know, I rather enjoyed it,” Malfoy says with a chuckle. “Mikaelson sure is pretty when she’s hopping mad. Perhaps you should crash into her in the halls more often.”
Keeping my mouth shut, I glare at Dolohov. His rage has been growing, but I gave a clear order. No one touches her until I say. If he gets his revenge, I need her secrets and her magic beforehand. When he meets my gaze, the burly man shrinks into himself. With downcast eyes, Dolohov promptly shuts his pie hole.
“I’m going to ask her to the Ball this weekend,” Lestrange announces as we walk to dinner. “Mikaelson still doesn’t have a date, she might be waiting on a real man to whisk her away.”
Malfoy sneers at him, “She’ll reject you, just as she’s done in every conversation you’ve had with her. Tom and I are the only ones who managed a rapport with Mikaelson, you lot might as well give up with some dignity.”
At that moment, the topic of our conversation appears in the hall. She isn’t with her usual friends, and isn’t headed towards the Great Hall like most other students. Looking troubled, Mikaelson makes her way across the corridor like a salmon swimming up stream.
Tonight is another full moon, and the sun is about to set. If I’m right, Mikaelson won’t be at dinner, and this might be my chance.
“You lot go ahead, I have something to take care of,” I say, not bothering to wait for any response.
Making sure to stay out of sight, I follow Hope all through the castle, until she eventually exits the building. Every so often, she looks around, as if not wanting to be followed. Thankfully, I know this castle and it’s grounds like the back of my hand. Taking parallel paths and hiding when necessary, I eventually watch her disappear in the Walled Garden.
This is the perfect time to corner her, there’s only one way in and one way out. When I’m over the bridge, I don’t see Hope anywhere. Breathing out a puff of air, I rack my hands through my hair while searching the space. I might not be able to see a short girl with dark, auburn hair, but I do see a patch of agitated Chinese Chomping Cabbages.
Careful to keep a safe distance, I walk over to inspect them. They’re planted in various circles, but the patch in the center seems to be particularly pissed off. Quickly searching the place, I find the vegetable patch and pull a few carrots out of the ground. Once I’m back in place, I start feeding the Cabbages. With them reaching for their snacks, I realize the center of the circle is a hole, instead of soil.
The cabbage leaves fully block it, unless you make them move. Quickly, I break the carrots into pieces and throw them onto the ground before the plants. Rushing, I jump into the hole while the Cabbages are distracted, barely making it out unscathed.
Once inside, I cast Lumos, and figure I’m in a hastily made tunnel. The walls are all packed dirt and wooden supports, and, with a shrug, I follow the path. I must walk for at least half an hour, the path winding and occasionally narrowing to the point where I have to take a few, deep breaths before continuing.
My robes are all smeared with soil, the smell of Earth completely over powering, and the October chill definitely permeates the tunnel. Ignoring all of that, I keep my mind on the prize. If Hope Mikaelson is using a secret tunnel, then there must be a good reason. Leaving the castle grounds isn’t exactly allowed, and there’s no way I’m still within the wards of the school.
Finally reaching the end, I’m met with a wooden door in the ceiling. Light from the setting sun sneaks through the cracks, and I wait to listen for any signs of life. It’s faint, but I do hear some rustling. This must be where Hope is.
With my wand at the ready, I open the door, and pull myself through. On the other side is a surprisingly nice house. Polished wood floors, expensive furniture, and a huge fire place. Whatever building I’m in, this must be the sitting room.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Hope’s voice shouts at me.
Turning, I see her standing in an archway, leading to what seems like a kitchen. But her expression is what catches my eye. Hope is looking at me with equal parts terror and rage.
Putting my wand in my pocket, I relax my stance before responding to her, “I wanted to see what has you so upset today.”
“Not in the mood for lies, Riddle,” she spits at me. “Whatever, just leave. Now.”
Indignation floods my system, how dare she command me like that. How would she know what I do or don’t care about? That has been a constant wonder with this girl. She always assumes the absolute worst out of me, even the day she threatened me. Why would she assume that I would use information to ruin someones life? What does she know about me, and how did she learn it?
“I’m not going anywhere, not until I get some more answers,” I tell her firmly.
Hope’s rage takes the back burner, and panic becomes her primary emotion. With wide eyes, she looks out a nearby window. The same time the last rays of the sun disappear.
“Seriously, Tom,” she says while panting, clenching her fists until her knuckles turn white. “You need to leave, for your sake. Please, go back the way you came, and spell the door shut behind you.”
Smiling, I roll my eyes at her. So I was right, Hope Mikaelson is a werewolf. At least, that’s the only conclusion that makes sense in this context. Especially with the way she is clearly fighting her transition.
“You’re a werewolf, big deal. At least this explains how your eyes changed color, and you know, I’ve always wanted to see a transition. I know enough to keep myself safe, don’t worry about it,” I tell her with a triumphant grin.
Hope growls in frustration, but doesn’t sound entirely human, “I’m not the kind of werewolf you’re used to! Save us both a lot of trouble, and leave. Please, Tom, I can’t hold it much longer!”
Confusion fills me, is it really possible for there to be different breeds of werewolves? With that in mind, why would I leave before learning more? If anything, that’s more reason to stay! Being able to see a werewolf transition that no one else in this world has seen…it’s just another jewel for me to add to the growing pile I’m collecting from Mikaelson.
But, then I watch as Hope’s left humorous snaps. She shrieks in pain, and I instinctually step forward, my arms outstretched as I catch Hope before she can fall to the ground. She’s so hot, her body temperature almost burning me, but I don’t care. Not when I feel her tibia break.
Hope screams again, and pushes me away from her with her good arm, “Please, LEAVE!”
Looking into her face, Hope’s eyes are completely black and gold. I watch as her teeth sharpen and elongate, my horror growing as her cries of pain reach ear splitting levels. Tears run down her face, and desperation is spelled out on every feature.
More bones break, a succession so quick I can’t tell how much of her skeleton just broke. Her voice takes on a deeper quality, the animal in her starting to take over. This time, when she looks at me, I don’t see recognition or horror. All I see is pain and hunger.
Putting up a shield I run back to the trap door, my heart pounding like it never has before. I feel my shield repel something big the same time I rip the door open. With one glance back, I catch her spine shattering, her body contorting unnaturally, before dropping into the hole. Her screams sounding like a mix of her and a wounded, wild animal.
After casting multiple locking spells, I can’t help but stand beneath the door on shaking limbs and wait. My feet won’t let me move, and I eventually collapse onto the floor. Her shouts and yelps don’t stop, her body breaking so viciously that I can hear it even through the door.
I don’t know how long passes, but eventually Hope quiets. There are 206 bones in the human body, and I swear I heard each and every one break.
Now, the only sounds from above are four feet padding around, panting, and then a great, big howl. As I pick myself up, I realize she wasn’t kidding. Hope truly is a different breed of werewolf. The ones I’ve learned about are still fairly bipedal, and their transitions last for around half an hour.
Hope sounds more like a big dog than a part-human beast, plus that was far longer than half an hour. Feeling both numb and overwhelmed, I make the trek back to the castle. I’ve seen plenty of violence in my time, have been both the victim and the aggressor. Out of everyone I know, I have tortured and killed the most at such a young age.
What I just witnessed, makes my torture methods feel like child’s play. Entering the Walled Garden, Hope’s screams still ring in my ears. I don’t even care that some of the Cabbage tears my clothes, my mind is stuck on the witch currently in wolf form.
Walking until I reach the stone circle, I drop to the ground, and lean my back against one of the stones. Letting the cold surface settle and ground me as much as possible after what I witnessed. Looking up at the moon, I realize I’m in trouble. I’ve never met someone whose pain I can’t delight in, even hurting my followers puts me in a better mood when necessary.
But, hearing her shrieks, watching her body contort…all I felt was helplessness and nausea. Now, I know another one of her secrets, but I gained one for myself.
I accepted that I was attracted to the witch the first time I met her, realized that she’s special not long after. But, this is more than simply wanting her body or her secrets. No one can know, no one will know, but…I care for Hope Mikaelson.