Chapter Text
Dippet, who had most certainly had more to drink than the sparkly punch, would not stop going on about what a great turn out the ball was this year. He had been talking about nothing else for a total of thirteen minutes.
When Orion had said Dippet needed him he had thought it some sort of ruse. There was a small part of him-miniscule, really-that wanted to say, 'but this is Orion, he is loyal to a fault. He can be trusted.' It had not been big enough to keep Tom from checking.
After all Harry was worried, and though Tom wanted nothing else than to assuage those fears, and he truly did believe the Knights wouldn't move forward with any plans while they were still at school, he had to agree that their anger could take a nasty turn if their combined focus was only one, unassuming wizard.
But Orion hadn't been bluffing. There was a clear image of Dippet pulling him aside to gush about needing to see Tom right away, nothing more, just rambling about the music and atmosphere and food.
Tom had had very little to do with it, he had relegated everything to the Head Girl and Prefects. They had been happy enough to pick everything out and run the results by him in the end. He had signed off on everything with barely a glance at what was going on.
Revelry hadn't been the most important thing on Tom's list lately.
"Headmaster," Tom broke in as Dippet was trying to turn the conversation back to the magical snow...for the third time, "sir, have you by any chance, seen other's of my house tonight?"
"Well, of course, my boy, of course," Dippet said, cracking a smile, he patted at Tom's arm with a heavy hand, "always so nice, Slytherin house. Nearly the whole lot of them dropped by individually to say hello. So nice..." Dippet faded off after that, staring into the far distance.
Tom ground his teeth, his fists clenching at his side, eager and itching for his wand. Of course. Of bloody course! "If you'll excuse me, sir, there's something I have to see to."
Dippet jerked, his eyes clearing just a bit as he focused on Tom once more, "sure thing, my boy. Off you go! Suck a dedicated boy, so good. Going to do good things, that Tom..." Dippet wandered off, muttering to himself all the way.
Tom rushed through the Great Hall and out into the entrance where he had seen Harry disappear to. He swept through the entryway but...there was no sign. There hadn't been any strong emotions through their bond, and Harry wouldn't simply leave without telling him. He took a few deep breaths, trying to slow his quickened heart, and felt for Harry through their connection.
It was fuzzy, muted, as though Harry were underwater, unable to surface. Panic pierced him so fiercely Tom nearly had to clutch the wall for support.
Orion...
What had he done?
As though called forth by sheer thought, Orion was suddenly there, dark eyes boring into him. It was all Tom could do to not punch him right there in front of everyone.
"Where. Is. He."
"If you will follow me, my lord," there was no mockery in his tone, only stiff formality.
"Follow you? You're lucky I'm not cursing you right here and now. What did you do to Harry?"
Orion took a few steps away from him, then turned to look over his shoulder to Tom, "if you'll follow me, I'll take you to him." Then he said in a much lower voice, "the Knights have to settle something with the both of you."
Rage the likes of which he had never felt before boiled within his veins. He wanted to crack Orion's skull open and find the information he needed, he wanted to burn the halls down around him release some of the fury.
He could.
A dark, writhing part of him wanted to. It would be easy. Lose control, snap out and take down his prey to get what he wanted.
But...he didn't want to be that person. Not anymore. Not too long ago he wouldn't have given it a second thought. Now, though, he wanted to do better.
He could handle whatever situation that was before him. He owed it to Harry to do so without killing, or maiming, or the use of magic that was too dark to return from.
When Orion turned for the stairs lead up into the castle Tom stifled a moment of surprise. By the time they cleared the fifth floor he knew where they were going. When they turned left on the seventh floor corridor he was livid.
They had a majority of their meetings here. It was easier for the non-Slytherins to get to and Tom could make it into whatever he needed for the evening. It wasn't sacred like the Chamber was, and he had never forbidden his followers from replicating it on their own time. That didn't stop the spike of annoyance when they entered the room, now void of the table and chairs but still very much the Chamber inspired meeting place he had created for them.
All of the Knights were there, faces blank as they turned, as one, when he entered. He had been thinking of masks for when they left these halls, something to protect their identities and help stoke fear in those that would oppose them. With them all turned in opposition to him, he saw more than ever the force they could have been.
That they never will be, if he could help it.
He could not see Harry but he could feel him. His senses sharpening with proximity. He took the last thread of his resolve and held it tight. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Tom," the group parted just long enough for Abraxas to step forward, Tom wasn't even surprised to see him. "We called you here because we are concerned for you. We're worried."
"Where is Harry?" He snapped, if this rat was in charge of this...intervening, he wanted to get this charade over with as quickly as possible.
Abraxas frowned, then turned to the Knights, "did I not tell you? This obsession is beyond worrying. What do we know of this Evans?" He turned and the Knights all took a step aside. In the centre of the floor lay Harry, in a crumpled heap of pale pink silk as though he had been carelessly dropped to the floor. Behind him were two larger lumps, garish and instantly recognizable from their yellow and green robes.
More of the situation came into focus then, Harry had been attacked and Fred and George must have been close enough to try and help him out. Only it didn't quite work out. The twins were a force, to be sure, but Tom had worked hard to turn his Knight's into fighters. In a group they would be almost unstable.
"I know everything about Harry, I trust him, and that should have been enough for all of you." Tom took a step forward, he was over this. It was time crush this little ploy before it could go any further. But at his second step every Knight turned their wand on him. He growled in frustration, but there was little he could do...some of them were very quick with their spells, he would most likely not get very far in reaching for his own wand.
"We know that his name isn't really Evans," Abraxas continued, he walked around so that he could look down on Harry and still keep Tom within his sight, "I over heard him speaking to one of the Hanley's, which is not their real name either. What else is he lying to you, to all of us, about?"
Tom gritted his teeth, "I already knew abou-"
"What else is he hiding? What other lies has he told, what spells has he cast to lure you so far from us? You're loyal followers."
"Do any of you truly believe me capable of falling under a simple spell?"
Abraxas, of course, went on as though Tom had said nothing at all. He pulled his wand from his robes and pointed it at Harry, "let's find out, shall we?" He flicked his wand wordlessly, sending out sparks that landed on Harry.
Harry blinked his eyes open, peering around uncertainly, his gaze going to Tom before moving up to Abraxas where he loomed over him. His whole body tensed, "you put something in my drink!"
Abraxas rose, wand still poised at Harry, he shrugged nonchalantly, "well I didn't, personally."
Tom could feel Harry's anger mirroring his own, then Harry glanced to the side and saw his friends and Tom almost felt sorry for what Harry clearly wanted to do to Malfoy in that moment.
Still at wand point Harry rose carefully, brushing off the skirt of his robes as though he were simply fixing his outfit after a brief rest and not as though he were kidnapped by a bunch of young dark wizards that had him at wand point.
"Is there a good reason you went through so much trouble to get us here? Or have you just never learned how to invite someone over properly?" Someone in the back of the room laughed softly but was instantly shushed by someone else.
"Now, harpy, tell us what you did to Tom."
Harry rolled his eyes, "nothing, he's fine. Just because you're upset that he, what? Changed his mind on something?"
Abraxas snarled down at Harry, knuckles white where they gripped his wand. "Not 'something', you. He has changed, because of you. You did something to him. You've tricked or deceived, or bewitched him, and now all our futures are in jeopardy!"
All eyes were on Harry and Abraxas. Tom carefully moved his hand to his wand in the distraction, he'd have to be quick but if he could unarm Abraxas Harry should be able to reach for his own wand....assuming they hadn't taken it from him. But before he could strike Abraxas lunged forward and yelled.
"I'll make you tell us all the truth! IMPERIO!" The curse, unblockable, hit Harry square in the chest. A ripple of apprehension passed through the Knights but no one made a move to step forward and stop the proceedings. Harry's bright eyes dulled as the spell washed over him, then he blinked and...
To anyone else it probably appeared as nothing, just the spell settling. Tom had studied the curse often. He had unabashedly used it on children in the orphanage. He had used it on muggles in the streets. He had even causally employed it to get other students to do his bidding here and there. For the most part those who were under the spell never lost the slightly lost expression caused from the mind fog. And if Tom wasn't losing his touch, Harry didn't appear to be affected at all.
Abraxas seemed to think otherwise. He turned triumphantly to Tom, smiling brightly. "What should I ask him first, my lord? How exactly he bewitched you? Or perhaps we should learn a little bit about who he actually is first?"
Tom relaxed his grip on his wand and moved to cross his arms over his chest. "You can ask him anything you want, and he wouldn't say a word to you he hasn't already said to me. Go on!" If Harry really were cursed he would have no choice but to answer, and he would dearly need to keep the truth of his parentage and time traveling a secret.
Behind Abraxas' back, Harry winked.
"Now," Abraxas turned back to Harry, "why don't you tell us your real name, hm?"
Harry played the part marvelously, he blinked sleepily up at Abraxas and in a small, dazed voice said, "Harry Jameson."
Tom's lips twitched before he could fully control himself. It was, technically, not untrue.
Abraxas smirked as a murmur drifted through the room. "And, what exactly are your intentions towards Tom?" He must have thought himself so clever. Here it was, the big reveal that Harry wanted to swoop in and take Tom's power, or use it for his own gains. But Harry only smiled.
"I love him," Harry said, eyes bright, "I want him to have the best life possible."
Abraxas frowned, the whispering in the room turned heated. Tom took a step forward, ignoring the wands, though most had dropped considerably since Harry began to speak.
"I've changed, Malfoy. Me. Not because Harry has tricked me. Or because I am under any sort of influence. But because I saw...I saw what was at the end of the path we were headed down. And I choose to turn back."
Abraxas whipped around to him, nostrils flared and pale eyes wild. "This is all some sort of trick, isn't it?"
"Slughorn keeps a vial of veritaserum in his office to show those wishing to complete the potions mastery post graduation," Tom said, tiling his head and smiling brightly, "shall I go fetch it? We can put this delusion of yours to rest."
Abraxas floundered, looking around to the room for help only to find that there were no more wands pointed at Tom, everyone was staring at him now, waiting for his reply. "No!" He shrieked, his wand once more turned to Harry with threatening intent, "No, I don't accept this. How can any of you accept this? What about all our plans? You were going to lead us to greatness!"
"I was going to lead you..." Tom looked around at them all. So many of them would have died because of him. For him. And he would have eaten up their lives without a second thought, not even taking pleasure from it, simply seeing it as his due. That wouldn't happen this time...not because of him.
"I would have led you down a path we couldn't have come back from. A path that would have brought more destruction than glory."
"LIES!" Abraxas cried out, but he didn't have time to work himself into another tirade.
"Oh enough already!" Harry said, ditching his ruse of being under the curse. As Abraxas turned, shock clear on his face, Harry did something completely unpredictable.
He punched Abraxas in the face.
There was a moment of silence as everyone took in the bit of muggle-esqu violence, then two boys rushed forward, wands drawn and pointed to Harry. Tom had his wand up in an instant, hex on the tip of his tongue, but both boys were engulfed in long, writhing coils of rope. They fell to the floor next to Abraxas where he still lay. Alphard stood behind them, wand up and a sheepish look on his face.
Tom crossed over to Harry who was checking on Fred and George, both of whom seemed to revive easily and beyond looking annoyed and a little dizzy, appeared fine. Tom pulled Harry close and regarded the Knights. There were very few among them who would meet his eyes.
"Abraxas was right," he began, making sure to speak levelly and clearly. He would not be having this conversation again. "We do have things we need to settle. Now and for all. It's over. The Knights are over. There are no more plans, there will be no missions. Any move made towards that future once we are out of this room is strictly on those who choose to do it. I do not support you. I am not your lord."
"But...all the plans we made..." Greenglass said disparagingly.
Tom shook his head. "It's over. I had my own reasons, different than the ones I gave, for making those plans. They're over now. Go and make lives for yourselves without them."
Tom turned to Abraxas as the room devolved into hurried whispers, the door opened and closed a few time as some of those more distraught found their way to sides of the room to calm down. Tom, for the most part, was finished with them. Anything beyond what he needed to do for them as Head Boy was completely over. Except...for Malfoy.
He had managed to pry himself up from the floor, but a large purple bruise was starting to form on his pale and pointy face. "I warned you against hurting Harry. You made the choice to ignore that warning."
"So kill me!" He spat. "Turn me into a blubbering moron. Curse me for all eternity. There is nothing you can do to me that will be worse than this!"
Tom smirked, "isn't there though?" He took a step forward, gleeful as Malfoy quickly took a step back from him. "I could turn you in. You drugged a fellow student, you used an Unforgivable curse on him. That is more than enough to get you expelled and your wand snapped. The Malfoy's don't have any other heirs, do they? They are sorely afflicted by infertility like so many other pure-blood families. How would your dear father, a great man who thought so highly of me, deal with the disgrace of his only child effectively losing his magic?"
"You wouldn't," Malfoy gasped, but he suddenly didn't sound so sure.
"Wouldn't I? What is stopping me?"
"I'll tell them. The Headmaster, the Aurors, whoever. I'll tell them about your plans. About all that you have done!"
"As far as I know," Harry said, coming to stand next to Tom, "it isn't illegal to sit in a room and talk to your friends. Even about...despicable things."
"Nor is it illegal to look up dark curses," Fred added, he, George, and Alphard had gathered at Tom and Harry's backs, "so long as you don't actually do them."
"And we all saw you use the Unforgivable on Harry," George concluded.
Abraxas shook his head, he had gone pallid, all blood leaching from his face. Tom wanted to be a better person. For Harry, mostly. But he felt no remorse as he bundled Abraxas and his two cronies up with a flick of his wand and headed for the door, Harry at his side and their friends at their back.
They left the room, half full of ex-Knights, and passed a few stragglers in the corridors as they made their way to Dippet's office. They looked lost, scared, but they would find their own footing soon enough.
It was time they all learned to stand on their own.
~~~
It was hours before they could leave the Headmaster's office. Such accusations, especially to an affluent pure-blood family were not taken lightly.
After the five of them had given their accounts of the evening, how Abraxas and the Roberts had drugged Harry, something Fred, George, and Alphard had all seen first hand. Only to lead them and Tom to a dark room where, after yelling like a crazed man for several minutes, he had used the Unforgivable curse to try and control Harry.
Abraxas hadn't had much to say in his defense, and in that time no one else made their way to the Headmaster's office to refute Tom's account.
The Roberts would just get a hefty slap on the wrist. Several month's suspension with the threat of a repeat year and detention for the rest of their school life. But there was to be a council to discuss what was to become of Abraxas Malfoy's future.
The sun had long since risen by the time they made it to the dungeons. George had forgone going to his own dorm and followed them to the hidden door to the Slytherin common room.
"What do you think this will mean...for Draco, for Lucius?" Harry asked as they filed through the carved door and into the quiet, green cast gloom from the Giant underwater window.
Fred and George just looked at one another and shrugged. "I suppose there's a chance that this Malfoy will marry the same witch, have the same child like he had before, but..." Fred ran a hand through his frazzled red hair.
"But," George picked up, "Lucius and Draco...well, I think curbing Malfoy's homicidal tendencies before he can try and fashion himself the new dark lord is more important than assuring the people we knew before were born."
"Especially when they were gits." Fred said.
"Especially when they were gits." George nodded.
"I suppose..." Harry said lowly. He looked worse for wear and fading fast. Tom took him by the arm and led him to the dorms.
"It's time for bed. We can discuss philosophy later." The others followed them down the hall, Alphard going into the sixth year dorm and Fred and George into the seventh.
Once the door was closed and locked behind them Tom went to work helping Harry get ready for bed. His dress robes were rumpled, Tom took a moment to smooth them out as best he could before folding them into the hamper for the house elves to handle. Harry managed to slip our of his shoes just fine but had started to crawl into bed with this glasses on. Tom clucked his tongue, but removed them with a fond smile. He pulled back the covers and helped Harry settle in.
"There we go," he said, smoothing Harry's hair back from his face and kissing him gently. Harry hummed in sleepy pleasure. "Go on and get some rest. I'll be in shortly. There's...something I need to do."
Luck was on his side as Harry slipped off to sleep almost immediately. The night had been long and he was probably still feeling some effects from whatever vile concoction Abraxas had given him. He needed his rest. But Tom had something he couldn't put off any longer.
The night, for all it's chaos and anger....and fear. Had been enlightening. It had put a lot of things in direct perspective for him.
How could he be expected to move forward when there was one very large piece of the past keeping him tethered to that life?
The diary was where it always was, tucked into the bottom of his chest. Innocuous, precious beyond belief. He held it close to his chest and breathed deep. Breath, always seemed to come easier when he held it.
Traversing his path through the common room was easy. The upperclassmen were most likely still asleep from the night's festivities, and younger students wouldn't miss the opportunity to sleep in as well. The third floor was clear and Tom went into the girl's room, through the hole behind the sink, and down into the dark of the Chamber.
For the last time.
It was fitting to do it here. This was where it all started. Where, just month's ago Tom had laid on the floor, surrounded by flickering candles and the remains of one of the darkest rituals there was. The pain...the emptiness. He would never forget it. Or how, at the time, it had seemed like the only option he had.
Mere weeks ago Tom knew he had a better option. He had bound his soul to Harry. He had held him close, made love to him on this very spot. Harry had opened a whole world up to him.
It was good to do it here.
The circle was etched on the floor, and not for the first time Tom stopped to wonder what else had been committed here. What plans had Salazar Slytherin plotted. What had he really wanted to come of this place? Of Tom, or any other descendant he would have had.
"You would have despised me." He said to the gloom, to the ghost of his ancestor. "You would have hungered for my power. But me...a half-blood. My mother married a muggle." His laughter rang through the damp, stone hall. "I hope you're rolling in your grave over it."
Tom knelt in the centre of the circle, he...wasn't sure how to do this. He pressed the book to his chest and took a deep breath.
There was only one way to reverse a Horcrux. Regret. Wanting to reverse it with all of your soul.
He thought about Harry. About the future they could have together. About the life of terror and pain that Harry had lived. How that would never happen now.
...He thought about the girl
Her name had been Myrtle and Tom couldn't remember much else about her.
He hadn't been there when she died. He let the basilisk out to run wild, trusting in the beast to seek worthy foes. But Myrtle hadn't been a muggle born or half-blood. She had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whatever potential she had once had was gone, all because of Tom's mistake.
His fingered tightened on the book, knuckles white and shaking. Pain lanced, hot and white, through his chest, so very like when the ritual had taken hold.
For the first time he thought about what her life could have been and how, because of his actions, she would never get that life.
His throat was raw, as though he had been screaming for hours, his voice cracked and his chest quaked, it was hard to take a full breath, but he managed to speak. The only thing he could think to say, though it paled in the enormity of what he felt. Of what the situation called for.
"I...I am....sorry."
Everything went white....silent.
His ears were ringing and he couldn't feel his extremities. There was a pressure on his chest...not painful or heavy. More as though it were cold out and he finally found his cloak. Warmth seeped back to him slowly, and his vision cleared in blurry spurts. Eventually he realized he was on the floor, still within the ritual circle, on his side on the damp, moss slick stones.
Slowly he made to sit up. It took a few tries, he limbs felt oddly weak, though his senses were stronger than they had been in some time....since the ritual...
In his hands was the book. Or what was left of it. The pages were black, smoldering. They dripped a dark viscous liquid that could have been ink, but smelled of Ichor. It was slick, soggy, and hollow. It had once held half his soul, his most precious possession.
The pages shivered and began to flake away in his hands, clumping into bits and pieces like wet sand. He let them go, watched as they hit the small puddles of water that never fully dried, and simply melted away.
It didn't matter what happened to the book. It was empty. And Tom...
Tom was whole.
He laughed.
It echoed off the walls in crazed peels. It filled his chest and nothing had ever felt so good. So right. He laughed until his chest hitched, until tears brimmed his eyes. He laughed until there was no breath left in his lungs.
He laughed until the first sod broke through and he found himself bowed on hand and knee.
In the middle of the dark ancient chamber, where he had once felt such great and awesome power, Tom Riddle hung his head and wept.
~~~
Abraxas didn't return to school.
Harry listened into enough gossip to find out that his wand hadn't been snapped.
Though he certainly deserved such a fate.
But it had been decided that he would gain the remainder of his education elsewhere. He supposed that as long as he wasn't around to stir up trouble for him and Tom it didn't matter so much.
He could still go on to lead the same life, for all Harry knew. Perhaps he hadn't changed so much of the future as he feared.
Tom said to not worry about it, and so, Harry tried.
Ever since that night Tom had been different as well. He told Harry the next morning that the Horcrux was gone. That he had reversed the ritual, though he wouldn't go into detail. Whatever it was had left him changed.
There was a buoyancy to him now. The link between them shone with a great light, Harry hadn't even realized how dim it had been before. Through it he only felt Tom. His happiness, his love. His annoyance at fellow students who wanted his time, his pride when offers for internships came pouring during the second term.
The Knights had given up. Or they at least did not bother Harry and Tom directly again. It made the days go by swifter.
Fred and George soared among the student body, and through their connections with Gringotts and a few local vendors in Diagon Alley, had secured a location for their newest shop before the end of term. And as the days grew longer and warmer, everyone in their little group grew more and more restless for the break.
True to Tom's tales there was a small party of upperclassmen on the greens by the lake the evening before they would all board the train. Harry and Tom sat under a tree, back pressed to Tom's chest, secure in the cradle of Tom's arms. They watched the moonlight ripple on the lake, listens to the sounds of laughter and revelry around them. It was so much like their shared dreams that Harry found himself dozing off, only to jerk awake and be surprised they weren't actually in bed.
Sometime after midnight a dark figure passed in front of them. He stood in the shadows but did not approach. he didn't speak. After a few minutes he moved on silently back into towards the rest of the party goers.
Orion hadn't said much to them after the night of the ball. He had apologized to both of them for his part in Harry's abduction. Abraxas had convinced him to play a part, to assure Tom wasn't being tricked. He understood how wrong they were to make such a move. But he had not seemed happy about all the changes.
"He'll go into ministry work, at least for a time." Tom said, pulling Harry closer. "It's what his father wants."
Harry nodded, he hated the feeling that their little show in the Room of Requirements wouldn't be enough to snuff out everyone's resolve for this great future Tom had proposed. Orion was one of those with connections, who had family all over and in powerful places, who also wanted a world in which half-bloods and muggleborns were not allowed the same freedoms and powers as pure-bloods.
"Will you see him then?"
"Perhaps. The ministry isn't so large, our paths will possibly cross." Tom had taken an offer to work in the Department of Mysteries as a cataloger/intern. Not all of their work was classified. He wanted to study time travel, eventually. Perhaps some alchemy and whatever else happened to fall into his lap. He had disappointed quite a few prominent wizards in accepting such an estranged position.
"And...what about us?" Harry asked, though they had gone over it several times now.
Tom kissed the base of his neck, whispered an obscuring charm and smirked when Harry shivered. "We will go to Hogsmead like everyone else tomorrow," he kissed down Harry's neck, "then we will apparate to the Knockturn Alley, where we've secured the attic apartment over Borgin and Burke's in return for working there part time." Tom pulled him up to sit on his lap and even with the obscuring charm Harry took a quick look around to see that no one was looking.
Harry hummed softly as Tom's hands found their way to his bare skin. They were as warm as the night, and just as gentle. "I promised Fred and George I'd go help them with their shop a few days a week."
Tom's hum of acknowledgement sounded a little like a growl. Harry smirked.
"You know they found a nice little place on Diagon Alley, right next to Jean-Loup's place. You remember Jean-Loup, right?" Harry squeaked as the world tipped, suddenly he was on his back, Tom growling above him.
"You will not. Go there." He declared between forceful and breathless kisses, "Alphard is helping them, there is no reason for you to go there." Harry giggled even as Tom stole his breath with another demanding kiss.
Under the tree, obscured from everyone, Tom took his time reminding Harry why he'd chosen him. Swallowing his sighs and cries of pleasure, lavishing attention on him until Harry arched and moaned his name. There was nothing but love and desire in the bond. And red hot passion as Tom found his own completion, his teeth worrying gingerly into Harry's neck with a possessive snarl.
Harry gazed up into the tree as he caught his breath, Tom was still wrapped around him, kissing gently at the bite on his neck.
"And next year?" He said softly, "I'll be coming back here and you'll be in London..."
Tom rose up enough to look at him, bodies still pressed together. He smiled, small, but sure. "It's just a year. And I'll come to visit as often as I can. We'll spend the weekend in Hogmeade together if we must. And after that," he sighed and wrapped himself back around Harry's smaller frame, kissing behind his ear, "after that we have the rest of eternity together."
Harry laughed, curling into Tom, he managed to pull an arm free to run through the soft curls of Tom's hair. "Eternity, huh?"
Tom hummed and nodded, "I thought I might try my hand at alchemy. You know, just to see what comes of it."
"Yeah," Harry said, looking through the dark leaves up, up, up to the bright and sparkling stars. "We have plenty of time to figure it out."
x
The castle welcomed her as warmly as ever. She had apparated near the Hogs Head and made her way by foot. The day was warm and bright, the rolling green hills a nice change from the grey and tan of London.
Students milled around, the last day of classes was never a full one, lasting just long enough to get assignments for the next year and say your farewells. Better to spend the last of their time at Hogwarts lounging on the grass or taking a dip in the lake.
They watched Hermione, in her flowing maroon robes and pinned up hair, as she strolled along the path to the entrance.
She ran into Nearly Headless Nick in the entry hall where he stood in silent contemplation over the hourglasses. She took a moment to notice that Slytherin and Griffendor appeared to had tied this year.
Odd.
After a quick re-acquaintance in which Nick tried overly to give Hermione a hug, he had pointed her in the right direction.
"He's taken to looking out over the grounds, of late. On the second floor balcony next to Arithmancy class."
She knew it well. Or she had. It had been years since her stint at Hogwarts, but her feet, and the castle, got her where she needed to be. And there, at the rail on the second floor balcony, a figure stood, stooped, peering out toward the grounds and the students she had just passed.
His hair had grown, which seemed preposterous, it had already been so long. It was more white now than silver, and she noted that he held onto a short walking stick he certainly hadn't been using when she graduated. But when He turned to her, bright blue eyes gleaming, smiling brightly, it was like no time had passed between them at all.
"Professor," She greeted, and Dumbledore kicked his head back and laughed heartily.
"Oh not anymore! And it's about time, if I say so myself. But look at you! Madame Minister, I'm honored you took the time to come." He beckoned her over to the rail and she happily obliged. Hugging him tight, noting his thinness, if not frailty.
"I'm hardly in wild demand. Besides, it's not every day the best Headmaster this school ever saw finally decides to retire."
Albus cackled, leaning on the rail more than his cane, he looked out again. "I'll miss it, but it was time."
"So, what will you do now?"
"Oh," he ran a hand through his long white beard, "I thought I might travel. Go to the States, visit the East. See all the things I never got a chance before."
Hermione smiled and nodded. "You deserve it. For all you've done. It isn't easy, dedicating your life to so many others. But you know, I'll forever be grateful for your help."
Hogwarts had been a large and scary place when she was eleven, just learning that magic was real. She had been lost and friendless, but there was Headmaster Dumbledore and his club, uniting students with similar backgrounds and interests in the hopes of building trust and friendships throughout the school. She had been paired with a pure-blooded girl from Ravenclaw, a shy half-blood from Huffllepuff, and a muggle-born boy from Slytherin. They had studied together, cried together when things got too hard. They were still fast friends to this day. She owed much of the joy of her years at Hogwarts to Dumbledore for that.
He smiled wistfully, "someone once told me to be more open. They showed me that it was good to trust others. I've been trying to be a better person ever since."
"I can't imagine you needing to be told that," she shook her head at the image of a self possessed and righteous Dumbledore. She couldn't see it.
"Oh, my dear, how things change. Ho now!" He turned sharply, surprisingly nimble for one in need of a cane, "what have I said about running in the halls? Mr Potter? Mr Riddle?"
Two boys who couldn't be older than thirteen stopped in their mad dash through the corridor. They peered between Dumbledore and Hermione with big, innocent eyes. One a warm deep brown, the other a violently bright green. Both boys had wild black hair and could have been cousins for all their looks. They stood close to each other and when they thought neither she or Dumbledore would notice, shared little smirks between themselves.
"We're sorry, sir?" The brown-eyed boy said, he clasped a library book in hand. "We needed to return this before the library closed."
"Mmhmm," Dumbledore hummed, his tone not truly believing. "That might be so, Mr Potter, but you have quite some time before that, and running in the halls isn't allowed."
"We won't do it again!" Riddle piped up, he was slightly smaller than the other boy, but held himself in a way that made him seem taller. Hermione rose a hand to hide her laughter as he fixed them both with a winning smile. "William said we shouldn't but he was so worried. It was such a good book and he forgot all about it until now. We promise to do better, sir."
Dumbledore looked close to laughter himself, but he managed to nod solemnly. "See that you do, Mr Riddle. Now off with you both. And be sure not to run where other professors can see you. Wouldn't want to start the fourth year with detention, would we?"
"No, sir!" They said together, and turned to flee, at a much slower rate, down the hall.
Dumbledore shook his head, "those two...and Devon Riddle...I had his grandfathers, you know. Two of the best alchemists and philosophers to ever come from Hogwarts."
Hermione tilted her head, there was something there...She could almost....
"I think...I remember hearing about them." Something tickled the back of her mind. Bright green eyes and a friendly smile. A thin boy who looked haggard by life, full of sorrow. But brimming with love.
She shook her head.
"Sometimes, when I see them," Dumbledore started, only to shake himself all over much as Hermione had. "But it's neither here nor there. Just the ramblings of an old mind." He clapped his hands together and beamed that bright and youthful smile at her once more. "What do you say we go back to my office. While it's sitll my office, and have a nice cup of tea."
"I'd like that, sir." She extended an arm to help him, though he only took it for show, not leaning on her at all.
"Oh, shush, none of that 'sir' nonsense. Not anymore. I'm Albus. Retired school teacher. Ready to take on the wide world!"
"Of course, Albus." They walked slowly through the halls, taking detours. Albus would stop often to point out this or that spot, where he had met this or that wizard or witch. She was happy she answered his letter. Happy he had chosen her to be here when he left.
Even if she couldn't get those green eyes out of her mind for days to come.