Chapter 21
November 24th, 1943
Tom
I’ve always been a decisive person. Even at the orphanage, each bully I traumatized into leaving me alone was the result of days or even weeks of planning. In those days, I was most proud of what Mrs. Cole called ‘the cave incident.’
Before I got to Hogwarts, I was the smallest boy in my age range, and Dennis Bishop never let me forget it. His favorite game was seeing how many other kids he could get to gang up on me, occasionally I was lucky to only receive a verbal lashing. However, Bishop always did enjoy making me bleed.
Amy Benson was much the same. Considered the prettiest, unwanted girl, she held sway over the others. Even without parents to teach us, children will still create their own hierarchy.
My initial magical outbursts knocked me down to the very bottom of the food chain. Literally, being in a muggle orphanage during the height of the Great Depression and in between two wars, good food was hard to come by.
It took me years to gain a semblance of control on my magic. Had I known what was happening, it would have taken me a third of the time. Especially learning how to talk to and control snakes. They were my first friends, and helped me come up with my plan to escape the constant taunting that seemed to follow me around.
My bullies were like a house of cards; take away the two at the center and the entire structure collapses. Which is why I magically ordered the two to follow me into that cave. Starting with Bishop, I ordered him to be silent, then to be in pain. Benson watched in horror; watching someone writhing on the floor is one thing, but the psychological damage done when your screams for help not only go unanswered, but go unheard? I quickly had to order her silent as well, after telling her that she was covered in spiders. Of course, she wasn’t, but my magic made her think she was.
After, everyone left me alone. It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and it taught me something very valuable. Fear can be a useful tool, however you must know what exactly to use. Everyone is afraid of something, but that something is always unique to the person.
“How are we supposed to catch one?” Lestrange asks incredulously, his voice echoing off the dungeon walls.
“We learned about them in third year,” Abraxas scolds him for me, leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed casually. “Just ensure you imagine something comical that can be easily caught and trapped.”
Cygnus Black leans both elbows on the table, obvious jealousy in his eyes, “And why exactly are you exempt from this little assignment?”
“Malfoy will be busy hosting for Solstice,” I warn. “He and I will be busy swaying Mikaelson into our little group, which will give you all plenty of time to prepare for next term’s revelry.”
“Why? I thought we were killing the bitch,” Dolohov all but growls, the violence in his eyes currently directed at the table.
Black slams a hand against the table before threatening, “If you lay a hand on her, you’ll have the entire Black family to answer to.”
“Not to mention my Father,” Abraxas chimes in with an irritated frown. “He already has Mother considering reception halls for what he claims will be the wedding of the century.”
Lestrange snickers from his seat, “Simply because your daddy sent her some jewelry does not mean that she will pick you. With the advice my brothers have been giving me, I’ll have the witch wrapped around my finger in no time.”
“As if, Lestrange. Why would she choose a family with less than a quarter of the influence or wealth as mine? Not to mention, I dare say I’m much better to look at across the dinning table,” Black explains, a smug smile on his face.
“What about the magic siphoning spell?” Dolohov manages through clenched teeth. “I don’t care who takes it, so long as I get to dispose of the witch.”
I turn my head at a glacial pace, my eyes blazing red as I glare him, “I can assure you, I will be the one to kill Hope Mikaelson when the day comes. However, the more I learn of her, the more delicate the situation becomes. She is Abraxas and my mission over the break, and now you all have your own. Does anyone take issue with that?”
Dolohov’s increasing mouthy attitude is precisely why I’ve given them such an assignment. Control is a tittering science, no matter how much violence I’ve allowed him, his obsession with destroying Hope will only get in the way of my plans.
Learning what each of my followers is most afraid of will be priceless information, then they can have their fun. Kidnapping more muggles will be easy for them, and surely the magicless fools will be entertaining when trapped in a cell with the boggart.
I’ve even approved the request to torment first and second years, with the understanding that I must be nearby to Obliviate them afterwards. None of my followers have quite mastered mind magic yet, and I won’t have their idiocy destroying my ambitions before they’ve been achieved.
The room fills with my followers muttering, “No, my Lord.”
Then I dismiss them all, my patience exceptionally thin this evening. No matter how decisive I am, Hope is the complete opposite. Making sure to speak with her every day has turned into a little game. One minute, she’s happy to see me, blushing like the school girl she is. The next, she looks at me with horror, ignoring the best of my charms.
“My Lord?” Abraxas asks, wringing his hands from where he sits to my right. The rest of the room has cleared, and now it’s just the two of us.
“Yes?” I ask, not bothering to hide my lingering agitation.
“You see,” he starts, not meeting my eye. “My Father has become increasingly…insistent that I make headway with Mikaelson before the end of the year. With your permission, of course, I’d like to ask her to spend a day in Hogsmeade with me this weekend? I’ve already informed her that I might be asking, and I will make it completely clear that it is for my Father’s benefit and nothing else.”
My possessiveness momentarily rears its head, but his further explanation extinguishes the worst of my ire. There is always the time to punish, which Crabbe is still learning. A day or two in the hospital wing with some rather aggressive ‘food poisoning’ will result in some much needed perspective for even the dullest of followers.
However, this is not one of those times. While I’m not thrilled by the idea of Hope going on a date with another man, perhaps this could work for me. My followers listen to me, but at the end of the day they are still responsible heirs. Not to mention the many, many others that have caught wind of the race for her hand. Her stubbornness has kept her from picking, so far, but a little lack of competition would be nice.
I would never trust another to attempt some sort of friendship with her, most would use that chance to weasel their way into her affections. Malfoy, on the other hand, would rather chop off a finger than end up with someone his Father chooses for him.
“Okay, if she’s willing then I expect you will treat her well?” I ask with a pointed look. The astonished look on his face isn’t shocking, I’m not exactly the most benevolent of leaders.
Wanting to hurry this conversation along, I continue as Malfoy’s mouth hangs open, “Clearly, the others might take issue when I inevitably win her over. If she is to have a place here, she’ll need a friend. A platonic one.”
Slowly nodding in understanding, he momentarily looks unrelieved. But then another uncomfortable expression sprouts when asks, “So, were you lying before? When you told everyone that you still plan on killing her?”
Sighing, I look towards the ceiling, taking only a moment to decide what to do. When I turn back, Malfoy is looking at me with a touch of fear, “You likely won’t believe me, but Ms. Mikaelson is more than aware that I plan on ending her short life. If I’m not mistaken, she should be deciding just how it’ll happen.”
“You…but is she not to be yours?” He asks, horror and confusion warring on his face. “If you plan on killing her, then why have me be friendly with her?”
My chuckling only makes his terror grow, and I shake my head while telling him, “Worry not, Malfoy. Everything will become clear eventually, for now simply enjoy your weekend. You never know, she might explain everything to you on her own if you’re smart.”
******************
November 26th, 1943
Hope
“I still don’t understand why you said yes,” Mary grumbles from beside me.
“Relax,” I chide softly. “I already told you, it’s a simple favor and mutually beneficial.”
Anthony scoffs from my other side, “I still don’t understand why you can’t choose Riddle to get a break from the other Purebloods. At least he wouldn’t brag to the rest of the school about bedding you.”
“No one is bedding me!” I whisper shout, not wanting to draw attention on our walk to Hogsmeade. “I will spend one day with Malfoy, and then I should be free for the rest of this term. You’ve seen how it’s been the last week, and I promise that nothing will happen.”
No matter where I turn recently, there’s a Pureblood or social climber waiting for a chance to talk to me. After the Slytherin after party, word must have spread to the other houses. While they still take up the majority of my time, I’ve been ambushed in the Ravenclaw common room a few times.
Anthony had to save me from a crowd of boys arguing over who would help me with an assignment I was nearly finished with. Riddle wasn’t kidding when he told me that pretty much every boy has turned into a suitor, and he’s my most persistent. Every time I see him, I feel differently about him, and the only I thing confidently know is that I have not one idea how I feel about Tom Riddle.
He’s both a better option than the other boys and the absolute worst case scenario. My friends all want me to choose him, but that’s because I can’t explain everything I know about Voldemort.
Sure, he ended up giving me an amazing orgasm, promising me everything I’ve always wanted. But, isn’t that how most traps are laid? Going back and forth with him is tough, and I would feel bad for the guy, if he wasn’t a baby dark lord.
Mary still scowls, her arms crossed as she says, “But, it isn’t one day, is it? You already agreed to go their manor for Solstice.”
“You’re the one that told me I couldn’t say no,” I remind her, not for the first time. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders before continuing, “Even if I did want him, Malfoy made it abundantly clear that this is all for show. No matter what his Father wants, he won’t be coming on to me.”
“Denying a formal invitation from the head of the Malfoy clan would be like denying a meeting with the Minister for Magic,” Anthony explains with no lack of irritation. “Technically not a crime, but is a major faux pas in the wizarding community. Most elites would kill for their daughter to be invited like that, no wonder the others have descended on you.”
When we’re right outside the entrance to town, Mary huffs and wraps an arm around my back, “I know you aren’t actually interested in him, but I’m still nervous for you. The Malfoy’s are known for being conniving, devious little rats. What you want is important, just not to them.”
“I promise I’ll remember that,” I tell her as I hug both of my friends goodbye. “I’m meeting him at Honeydukes, but I’ll see you both later?”
“Of course, and remember that we’ll castrate anyone that hurts you,” Anthony says into my hair, making me laugh.
“Or just for fun,” Mary adds with an evil smile. “Depending on the recipient, that is.”
She winks, and then I’m off, still chuckling while shaking my head when I spot Abraxas. He’s waiting just outside the shop, and is dressed oddly formal for our non-date.
With his black robes open, I can see a suit that looks like it belongs in one of the wizarding magazines I’ve seen about. Being handsome isn’t exactly a new thing for him, and Malfoy smiles when he sees me.
“Hope, you look lovely,” he exclaims before offering me an arm.
Taking it with an eye roll, I tell him, “Thanks, but you didn’t have to get so dressed up.”
I’m just in a simple, purple floral dress with a warm cloak. Nothing fancy, and I only have on the lightest of makeup. If anyone saw me, they’d just think I’m out having a nice time. Malfoy, on the other hand, looks ready to go on a date with the Queen of England.
“My Father will be asking about today, and I will not be the first questioned. Likely, there’s someone in town that was sent to make sure I was not lying. Which is fine, I do plan on spending plenty of Galleons on you,” he tells me, stepping away to hold the door open for me. “Pick out whatever you’d like, it’s on him.”
********
Hope
“Thank you, I really appreciate this. Though, I do feel a bit bad for how much this must cost,” I say to Abraxas as he holds a door open for me.
“Believe me, Hope. Today won’t even make a dent in my family vaults,” he tells me with an unbothered shrug. “We’ve spent enough time in public, if anything my Father will be proud that I arranged for a private dining room.”
Sitting in one of the many vacant seats, I scan this private room in the Three Broomsticks dining hall. A painting of a hilly landscape hangs prominently against one wall, the only real decoration in the dark space. The table is large, able to accommodate at least eight people, and has scratches or blemishes scattered across the worn wood.
“Fair, but I think it’ll take me the rest of the year to get through all this candy. I may have over done it slightly,” setting my goodies on the table, the loud thud really proves my point.
His answering smile is deviously bright, but disappears after a moment, “Consider it my pleasure. I’m just sorry that you’ve been pulled into my family issues.”
“Come on, we’ve already talked about this,” I say, waving off his worry. “Even though it’s different, I understand what it’s like to have no control over your fate. If anything, I’m pretty sure I’m coming out of this deal a winner. I have my consolation prize and everything.”
Patting my big bag of candy, Abraxas laughs at my little joke. It isn’t a lie, I really don’t mind going on a fake date. When he first gave me the proposition, I didn’t believe him. But, Malfoy is offering me time I desperately need. As the days went on, more boys started following me around, and the more girls started giving me dirty looks.
Not wanting to be attached to anyone is all good and well, but I’m in the 1940’s. All the boys take my ‘no’ as a ‘not yet, try again tomorrow.’ Since I agreed to this date, I’ve at least gotten a reprieve from everyone outside of Slytherin. Although, his fellow housemates either know this is fake, or just aren’t afraid of him.
“Right, speaking of which, I would like to propose we play a game. If you’re up for it, that is,” Malfoy challenges with dancing eyebrows.
Rolling my eyes at his antics, I ask, “What kind of game?”
“A truth for a truth,” he starts, pausing when a waitress enters the room to drop off some fries and butter beer. Abraxas doesn’t continue until we’re alone again, the door firmly shut, “A question for a question, where we both answer honestly.”
The skeptical look I send his way makes him laugh, prompting him to continue, “Okay, how about we both get two passes. That way, if I ask you something you feel you cannot answer, you have an out.”
He’s been great all day today, but what if that was just a ploy to get me to open up? I suppose I do have questions I’d like an honest answer to, but believing that a Slytherin wants to innocently ask me questions is like thinking a shark just wants to lick a fish. Still, he’s giving me an out if I need, and I can simply stop playing if it comes to that.
“Deal,” I tell him with a suspicious glint in my eyes. “But, I ask the first question.”
Motioning for me to continue, Abraxas leans back in his chair. One arm rests against the back of the chair next to him, and he looks like the picture of ease. It’s a mask, one I’m tired of looking at.
“I want to know what you’re actually like. This isn’t so much a question as it is a request; for the rest of our ‘date,’ I’d really appreciate if you dropped the whole Pureblood Abraxas Malfoy, sole heir to the Malfoy estate bullshit,” it feels good to ask for this.
No matter what he asks, I’d like to know his true reaction. Not to mention, I’ll be a lot better at figuring out when he’s wearing a mask if I finally see him without it. I did start off hitting heavy, but I’m hoping he sticks to questions that Riddle already knows. If I’m lucky, Voldemort hasn’t shared my secrets with his followers.
Abraxas looks at me strangely, like I couldn’t possibly be smart enough to figure out that he’s been fake around me since day one. Simply because I’m ahead of him in school rankings, I suppose that doesn’t automatically make me socially smart. He has no idea what kind of family I come from.
After a brief silence, Malfoy finally nods with a long sigh. All at once, his entire demeanor changes. Sitting straighter in his chair, he rests his elbows on the table, and I can hear him lightly tapping a foot against the floor.
“I can do that, honestly I never expected that to be something on your mind. Since your request doesn’t actually require an answer, would it be alright if I asked my first question?”
Shaking off the shock of his change, I nod for him to continue. In some ways, I assumed that the real Abraxas would be even more arrogant or full of himself. The Malfoy before me is completely different from anything I expected.
The little bit of anxiety I picked up on seems to be a bigger part of his personality than I previously thought. The smile on his face is sweet, but hesitant. I can’t help but wonder; how does this guy follow a dark lord?
“I’ve been wondering, the creature you were born to destroy. What…what is it?” his question comes out hesitantly, like he’s not sure he’s ready for the answer.
Bitting my lip, it takes me a moment to piece together my answer, “The creature’s name is Malivore, and he was created from mud and the blood of three magical beings. Really, he’s a big mud man with some markings drawn on the forehead. His purpose was to consume the other magical races through out the world, making everyone forget they ever existed in the process.”
Blowing out a big puff of air, Malfoy falls back against his chair, his eyes wide as he processes what I’ve told him. The wheels turning in his head are nearly visible, and too many emotions flash across his face for me to decipher the conclusion he comes to.
“Who do I have to fear,” I start, pulling him from his thoughts. “Specifically from your little group, but I guess I want to know if there’s anyone else I should keep an eye on.”
A curious expression crosses his face, and Abraxas intently stares at me now, “I’d say Dolohov is the one you should look out for. He’s…not happy with how you embarrassed him that first week.
“Walburga and Patty aren’t harmless, but I also don’t think they’re devious enough to come up with a plan that would work. The last…well, I’m not sure what’s going to happen. All I know is that Tom plans on killing you, and that somehow you know about that.”
Thinning my lips, I hold my laughter inside while he looks at me with more suspicion than ever before. I suppose that’s all Tom really knows too, although maybe he didn’t let Malfoy know that I’m coming back. Given the look on his face, I don’t think Tom told him much of anything about me.
“What are the three creatures? That created Malivore, I mean. If he was built from the blood of three beings, you are Nature’s loophole to kill him, then surely you are all three?” he asks while scratching his chin.
My eyes widen in surprise, and I feel almost proud of Malfoy for figuring that out. Although, this is officially dangerous territory. Even if I do answer this question, it doesn’t actually give him any information.
If I was the same as the creatures in this world, I’d probably use one of my passes. However, Abraxas won’t truly learn anything from this information. He’ll only be left with more questions.
“I’ll answer this question, but first I need to give you a disclaimer,” I start, not wanting to frighten the poor boy. My seriousness affects him, so I continue, “Just like how I’m magically different from everyone, the other parts of me are just as unique in this world. I know that you have preconceived notions about what I am, but we’re only similar enough that we have the same name. Still, I’m nothing like the creatures you’ve learned about in school.”
Leaning even closer to me, hands clasped before him, Malfoy nods, “Okay, I understand.”
After taking a deep breath, “I am a witch, a werewolf, and a vampire.”
Despite my warning, fear enters his eyes. Abraxas looks at me how I imagine most people looked at my Mother when people found out that I had been conceived. It doesn’t matter that my curse is different and I’m the granddaughter of the creator of all vampires, I suppose people cannot unsee what they already know.
“Are…are you all three right now?” he hesitantly asks.
“I believe it’s my turn,” I say with a small smile. “Beyond killing me, what does Tom want with me? I already figured out that he wants my magic, as do the rest of you, so don’t worry about implicating him in anything.”
Malfoy’s discomfort grows, and I feel like I may have hit the jack pot. He is about to prove all of my assumptions correct, let me know that Tom’s plan is evil and awful. Truthfully, he doesn’t even have to spell it out, he can simply pass on answering the question. That will be an answer in it of itself.
“Honestly? I’m not entirely sure. To say that Tom is…closed off, would be an understatement. However, beyond killing you, I believe he actually abandoned his initial plan to drain you of your magic before discarding you,” he pauses, giving me an apologetic look before continuing.
“What I do know is that for the first time in his life, Tom is seriously looking into marriage. Sure, he would shag a pretty witch every now and then before, but that hasn’t happened nearly all term. Without an idea of what he’s told you, I can’t say whether he’s misleading you or not.
“That being said, I don’t think he is. I think…and I never thought I would ever even think this about Tom and a witch, but I think you’re special to him. It definitely started out being about magic, but something changed during October. His plans shifted, but the only two things I know is that he wants to marry you and he’s going to kill you. Although, I almost got the feeling…that he doesn’t want to.”
My scowl makes him laugh, and I turn away from him. Not even looking when his chuckles subside enough for him to ask, “Did you want to hear that he has some master plan to eradicate you from the world?”
Rubbing my temples, I try to think, but nod for Malfoy’s benefit. Everything I know about the Tom Riddle from the books wouldn’t let one witch stop him on his tirade. That Riddle grows up to kill, torture, and allow more rapes than I could stomach.
First was Myrtle, then his Father, and later the lady that currently has Slytherin’s locket. But, many of his darkest deeds happened after spending decades away, doing Gods know what, but definitely dark magic. Did that somehow solidify the evil in him? Was Dumbledore right? Is he really just a boy right now?
Shaking off my thoughts, I turn back to Abraxas, “Alright, would you like to use your unanswered question or a new one?”
That sobers him, getting back to just how dangerous I might be, “The unanswered. Are you currently all three of those creatures?”
Bobbing my head from side to side, I answer, “Yes and no. Technically, my vampire side hasn’t been activated, but I do still have one of the abilities that part gives. Obviously, I’m a witch, but I have activated my werewolf side.”
“Can…” he starts before taking a break to think through what he’s going to say. “Can you pass that curse on to others?”
Taking pity on the pour boy, I reply mostly for his ease, “In my world, the werewolf gene cannot be passed from a scratch or bite. There is no possible way for me to turn you into a werewolf, unless I use the witch part of me to curse you.
“But, that’s not really my thing, I promise that you and everyone else are safe. As long as you don’t piss me off when I am a wolf, I can still maim you just as well as any natural wolf. Although, I am a lot faster than them.”
“That’s why you don’t care that Tom means to kill you,” he breathes, surprising a laugh out of me. I thought that his expression was completely about the stigma in this world, I didn’t realize he was piecing everything together. “Because you’ll come back, won’t you.”
Still chuckling, I say, “Proud of you, Malfoy. Now you know the price that I have to pay, although I do sometimes find myself envious of you. You just have to marry someone.”
“I learned long ago that being a part of a powerful family is just as good as it is bad,” he explains while shaking his head in disbelief, a big frown on his face. “But, I never could have guessed your situation. While I’m a touch relieved to understand, I’m…I’m sorry that you have to endure that.”
With a small smile, I tell him, “Thank you, Malfoy. Really, the kindness is appreciated. Though, I do believe you owe me two questions now.”
A small smile sprouts, and he shakes his head again at me, “I suppose I can’t blame you, I would do the same.”
“Wonderful,” I start, studying the man across from me intently. “First, I want to know what you actually think of me.”
Malfoy lets out a big, belly laugh before asking, “Why in the world would it matter what I think of you?”
“Honestly? Partially because you’re the one who explained blood politics to me, but never actually claimed any of the beliefs for yourself. Also, your opinion will give me some insight into how your housemates see me. Since I have them all literally flocking to me, I might as well get an idea of how they might see me,” I tell him with a sigh.
I don’t particularly care what Abraxas Malfoy thinks of me, but I do want to know how Purebloods see me. Seeing as he’s the only one I currently have offering me honesty, he’s simply the one that I get to ask. Although, if he bullshits me, I might punch him in the face.
“Okay,” Malfoy starts, he seems so unsure of how this might go. “I was raised to believe that Muggles are the scum of the earth, and occasionally they steal magic from our lines. Being told that all the best, the brightest, the deserving of magic are Purebloods has skewed my perceptions of those around me. You, actually, are the one who has challenged these ideas.
“Granted, you are from a different world, and there is always the possibility that magic is passed down in different ways. But…you have more magical ability in your little finger than anyone in school. You know more, can do more, and from what I’ve heard, your Mother was a Muggle.
“I can’t say that I’m a reformed man, on some level my ego still insists that I am better than you. However, I also can’t say that I fully believe the things I did in July. That might not be the most succinct response, but it’s the truth.”
Somehow, I think that was the most painful question for him to answer. His fidgeting ramps up, he can’t hold my gaze, and only sends me nervous glances during his response. In some ways, that’s the best answer I could have hoped for. Unlearning years of bigotry takes time, but the fact that he’s opening himself up to it is massive.
“Thank you, Abraxas. I appreciate your honesty,” I tell him, causing his eyes to flash to mine in surprise. This is the first time that I’ve called him by his first name. “If you had told me that you’ve completely abandoned all the lessons you’ve learned in just a few months, I would not have believed you. Plus, it takes a lot more than that to offend or hurt me.”
A genuine smile breaks out across his face as he shrugs nonchalantly, and I watch him take a big breath of relief. As if he was worried that one question might have destroyed the small semblance of almost friendship he’s cultivated. He’s likely Riddle’s closest follower, so it makes sense that he wants to keep the rapport he fought for. But really, prejudice is the least of my worries.
“Well, you have another question. Let’s have it then,” he says with some ease. The lack of yelling and scolding from me seems to have relaxed Malfoy slightly.
Biting my lip, I debate on what I should ask. He’s already made it clear that he doesn’t know enough about Riddle’s plans for me to waste a question on him. I’ve learned a surprising amount today, but I’ll have to think on his answers more. At this point, I suppose there’s only one other problem that I can ask him about.
“What should I expect for Solstice? Are there any…surprises I should be prepared for?”
Bobbing his head from side to side, Malfoy responds with a thoughtful tone, “I’m sure that my parents plan on finding out more about you, asking you leading questions until they learn what they deem as necessary.
“There will likely be some amount of attempted manipulation, they do want us married, after all. As long as you don’t act like a fate with me would be your worst nightmare, you should make it out unscathed. Although, I’ll have to treat you as if I am courting you, which may be uncomfortable for both of us. Especially in front of Tom.”
My eyes widen and my mouth falls open, but Malfoy isn’t paying me any mind. No, he’s scratching his chin and looking off to the side in thought. Likely wondering if he’s missed anything, or worrying over his parents schemes.
Either way, no one ever told me that Tom Riddle would be present for this little trip. I honestly can’t say if that makes it worse or better. On the one hand, I can’t be forced into a marriage with the three of us against Malfoy’s parents. However, a bad feeling sinks to the bottom of my stomach.