Cross Fire

Hermione woke up with a jerk, a sheen of sweat coating her skin as her grip tightened on the white sheets of her bed. The crimson curtain surrounding the four poster bed let a sliver of sunlight peek through to rest on Ginny’s sleeping form beside her. She turned, her gaze lingering on Ginny’s even breathing so in contrast to the nauseating panic now creeping back her veins from the night before.

Last night, Ginny had only opened her eyes blearily and scrunched them in concern before Hermione had shushed her questions and nudged her to the other side. She’d curled up on the other side, pulling the comforter over her face and squeezed her eyes shut to force herself to fall asleep and forget everything.

In her dream, she ran blindly through Hogwarts corridors looking for an escape. Someone chased her, some presence that she couldn’t name. Her heart hammered in her chest as she skidded to a dead end, fingers grazing the wall frantically for any hidden nooks. The next moment, she was kneeling in front of Riddle who stared at her disdainfully, his lips sneering before fear pulled her awake.

She forced a long exhale. Curling her fingers deeper into the soft comforter, her gaze drifted over the folds of the curtain, letting her mind wander. One option was to speak to a professor but Riddle would have foreseen something as basic as student complaints. That would also make her a target and she shuddered to think of the scenario where she would be facing his lackeys. The irony of being being the sole witness when she’d spent six years successfully avoiding all drama wasn’t lost on her.

No, the only two people she could confide in now would be Ron and Harry. Especially Harry, who had enough nerve to actually pull this off since her courage clearly lay in the gutter somewhere.

Sighing, she pulled the drapes aside and glanced at Ginny’s bedside clock. Seven, which meant the whole castle would be asleep and she could easily make her way back without getting noticed. She quickly sat up and wore her shoes, pulling the drapes back to let Ginny sleep another few hours.

“You’ve been a bit shifty this entire morning, Mione”, Ron remarked as he sat down opposite her in the Great Hall as Harry took a seat beside her. They’d returned for lunch from their morning classes and try as she might to stop, she’d been looking over her shoulder for Riddle ever few seconds.

Her poor heart on the other hand was unaccustomed to the ordeal.

She stared at Ron who stared back, eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to make a decision.

“What?”, he blurted.

She glanced at Harry who suddenly paused from serving himself food, hand mid air, as he caught her eye.

“Did we forget an assignment?”, he asked, wide eyed.

Enough.

“I have to tell you something right now”, she blurted. Her fingers fidgeted as she looked around. “Not here though. Lets talk after somewhere secluded.”

Ron and Harry stared at her for a moment but she shot up from her seat, grabbing her back and forcing herself to walk out the hall.

She led them out the great hall, climbing the stairs two steps at a time in a hurry. The Sun was gloriously out that day which meant the corridors and stairs shone with beams of light streaming through panes of painted glass. Ignoring Ron’s grumbling and Harrys pants, she continued onward to the Gryffindor common rooms, swinging open the portrait with a password and hurrying towards the Boys dormitory.

“Oi”, Ron called from somewhere behind her as he saw her climbing up the stairs to their room, which blessedly, was vacant.

She finally allowed herself to breathe freely, chucking her satchel on someones bed before flopping on another bed.

Her foot dribbled in the air as she watched the boys enter and flop on the opposite beds, out of breath.

“Listen.”
She began speaking, haltingly, describing how she was on rounds, how she’d ventured into a wing of the castle that was rarely used, and how she’d stumbled into Tom Riddle. She was pacing the length of the room by the time she finished.

“He forced him to beg”, she emphasized the last word again, a shudder raking up her spine. “I’ve never seen him like that.”

“You’re talking about Tom Riddle right?”, Ron asked in confusion after a second.

“Yes”, she said, shaking her muttered, wearily, rubbing her temple.

“The air”, she said in grimace, “was suffocating. Its was creepy and disgusting.”
“I was frightened out of my wits..I just never expected to see him there. Or his group of friends.”

Harry, who’d been watching her from where he sat on the edge of his bed, finally spoke up.

“You have to report this or do something, Hermione”

“I know”, she looked at them pleadingly. “But who will believe me? I saw Greg today and he was perfectly fine. I’m sure he’s been obliviated.”

“You’re sure it was Riddle?”, Ron asked again, looking strangely at her.

Hermione huffed loudly, “Yes, Ron, yes! As unbelievable it is, it was him and his gang of friends and I saw it all!”

“Why didn’t you do something?”, Ron asked accusingly.

“I don’t know!”
Her hands failed around as she tried to explain, “I was so scared! There were easily seven eight of them and I - “, she flopped down on the opposite bed, looking at both of them helplessly.

“I should’ve done something!”
She groaned, falling back on the bed, staring at the red canopy.

“Hermione, listen”, Harry spoke, standing up and inching towards her, “it’s alright. You were afraid and its fine but we can’t sit back. You know they are growing more brazen about their insane ideologies”

Hermione sat back up.
“What do you mean?”

“Two months back, Rosier bullied a muggle born. Starting of the year, there was that bloke Evans who was pulled up by Dippet for talking nonsense about this Ravenclaw muggleborn. They’re just doing this more and it all has to be Tom’s influence.”

“They meet in summer holidays”, Ron gave her a side glance, “and there’s been meetings for close ones.”

Catching their confused looks he explained with a shrug, “I overheard from some Slytherins last year in Divination how they were bragging about getting an invitation from Abraxas. Apparently they meet in his manor for a few days.”

“They might be planning something big you know.”, Harry muttered, almost to himself. “I never paid much attention but haven’t they really started taking an interest in Grindelwald and his ideals? They’re invested in that too much and with this you witnessed..”, his gazed flicked on both of them before his eyes hardened, “We have to stop it.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, biting her lip. They had to catch a Professor they could trust, someone who would keep an eye on Tom. Her mind flew through all the professors name but none would trust her. It was maddening how he was the epitome of goodness and intelligence and better stuff. Also the fact he was an orphan? Hermione groaned internally.

“Here’s the plan - ”, she began preemptively, forming some semblance of action as she stuttered over the words.

“We watch them”, Harry interrupted, signaling to him and Ron. “You make sure Tom does as few rounds as possible.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, as if she could stop Riddle from doing anything. This, this enthusiasm without a plan, would be the reason for their downfall.

“Hermione can keep a close watch on Riddle”, Ron added.

“-and Ron and I’ll keep a close eye on his lackeys. Someone is bound to slip and we’ll have enough evidence to present to a professor”, Harry finished as Hermione glanced between them wildly, the plan turning out to be more incredulous than she’d expected.

She stared at them for a moment.

“I was hoping we’d just watch the lackeys”, she mumbled.

“Not Tom?”

“Tom’s the mad one!”, she quipped back irritatedly.

The hat, who’d after grave examination sorted her into Gryffindor based on the stronger streak of courage he sensed in her, would have turned on his seat had he heard her admission. Ron and Harry, she was quite certain from their incredulous expressions, were ready to give up all qualms of friendship.

She sighed. She didn’t want to entangle herself with Tom anymore than she had to. He was clearly out of any sensible wits and she wasn’t going to deposit herself on his ravaging path. Her selfishness for her own well being surpassed moral codes.

“Let’s bloody do this!”

Harry’s vivid green eyes, sparkled with determination, his jaw set in stone as he said the firm words. She glanced at Ron who nodded solemnly at Harry.
She knew these expressions.
They were well on their way to hell with their half baked schemes yet again.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was half past eight by the time Hermione trudged back to her Head dorms. Brown eyes swept over the lines of the Charms textbook in her hand, blurring the words from the speed. The prep exam was in two days and she still didn’t feel well prepared. Her conversation with Ron and Harry sat somewhere in the back of her mind, pushed further by the ominous words spoken by every professor on the importance of performing well in the prep exams.

She briefly glanced at the innocuous brown door for the Head dorms and muttered a password, “Alwantyne” before stepping into the cozy common room. Her mind, so focused on repeating the sentences she’d read moments before, didn’t catch someone’s presence in the room until his voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Hermione?”

Hermione’s body froze instantly and her eyes jerked to Tom, standing in the middle of the room. His uniform remained impeccable despite the late hour, unlike the majority of the students including her, who’d loosened their ties and pulled their shirts from their pants and skirts. The dim amber glow from the firelight, brushed across his face, highlighting the sharp jaw and high cheekbones as he looked at her with a pleasant expression.

She stared at him in dumbfounded silence, unnerved by him.

“Studying for the prep?”

She nodded. How could this be the same boy she saw last night?

“Isn’t it your night for the rounds?”

Following Harry’s plans she’d immediately edited their schedules and placed her name into five days of the week leaving only the weekends for Riddle. She would’ve loved to see him try pulling this stuff on the weekend when every Hogwarts student, from every class, could be found in every other corner of the halls. Standing in front of him now though she didn’t feel as smug.

“Uhh yes -“

“I wanted to thank you for taking so many days before the prep but, you know, I can always ask Rosier or another prefect to fill in for us.” He smiled, a soft genuine smile, that surprised Hermione. She’d never been oblivious to the gushed whispers in the hallways and dorm rooms when girls sighed and spoke of Tom. Only she’d never spent enough time in his company to understand how justified their claims had been. Standing in the glow of the firelight, she understood. His head tilted to a side and few strands fell out of place from where he’d raked his hands throughout the day, making him look so boyish and innocent.

Her hackles rose.

“I’ll do them myself”, she replied, shaking her head.

“Do you want me -“

“No.” She refused flatly.

He looked slightly taken aback but recovered instantly, lips lifting on one side.
“Alright, thank you once again then. If you do want to make it simpler, McGonagal informed me that last week one of the Ghosts got into a fight with the Sir Mackenzie’s portrait in the evening and blasted off the portraits in the west wing of sixth floor. You can stay clear off the sixth floor -“

“That’s not right, nothing’s happened there.”, Hermione cut sharply. Last night it was all right and if he thought she’d let him carry out his - oh.

No.

She heart froze in her chest, lungs seizing as if someone had clamped a hand on them. His face betrayed nothing, turned towards her expectantly when she knew, she’d slipped.

Only the crackle of the logs in the fireplace broke the suffocating silence as they stared at each other. One shocked, the other waiting.

“Really?” His voice laced with unnerving politeness, sent a fresh jolt of terror through her. She had never despised anyone more than in that moment.

The sliver of fear that shot up her hands was enough for her to move.

A curt nod, a mumbled goodbye was all she could manage before fleeing into the sanctuary of her room, frantically checking over the locks twice.

Collapsing into the bed, face buried in the pillow, she raised one hand to silence the room, and screamed a desperate cry like a mad woman into the pillow.