Chapter 18

Sunday passed much more easily than Hermione had expected. The lack of classes meant that she, Harry, and Ron were able to spend most of the day in the Room of Requirement, away from prying eyes. Even though Harry and Ron had suggested eating in the kitchens, Hermione would not hear of it. Avoiding Riddle was one thing, but to avoid the whole school was unthinkable. Everyone would know that she was hiding and that would only fuel further suggestions of her guilt. And so they allowed themselves a late lunch and dinner, by which time most students had cleared out of the hall.

It was towards the end of their dinner, when the hall was almost empty, that Minerva approached the Slytherin table and sat down beside Hermione with a tentative smile on her face.

"Hello, Hermione," she said.

Hermione started, feeling hopeful.

"Hi, Minerva," she replied cautiously. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you. And, well… I won't even ask how you're feeling," she said, looking at Hermione sympathetically. She then added quickly, "Look, I just wanted to say that I don't agree with what a lot of people are saying about you being the Heir of Slytherin and all. I know Emma was really upset about what happened to Lauren, but Lauren was my friend, too, and I know that letting accusations fly isn't going to help her. Besides, Lauren had been missing long before you even knew it was her who hexed you."

Hermione's heart raced as she realised that Minerva actually believed in her.

"Thank you, Minerva. It means a lot to me, really."

As it turned out, Minerva was not the only one who doubted the new suspicions. A number of her friends were uncertain as well, and though they were not rushing to defend her either, it still gave Hermione some hope. Most surprising, however, was the fact that most of Hermione's supporters came from Slytherin House itself. When Hermione returned to the common room just a minute before curfew that night, she was immediately whisked away by a very excited, though somewhat agitated, Alphard towards the back of the room where Jacqueline was sitting with Lucretia and some seventh year Slytherin.

"Of course we all think it's rubbish," he said. "I mean, you've never said anything against Muggle-borns. And I know some idiots think that the fact that you arrived on the same day the attacks started sealed the deal, but that's just stupid. I mean, you wouldn't have even known Peter, or known that he's a Muggle-born, and I'd love to know how you were able to find the Chamber in such a short time. Besides, no one saw you go anywhere near the Great Hall."

"Thanks, Alphard," Hermione said, and she could not help but smile at his defence for her.

"Jacqueline thinks along the same lines, too, and Lucretia agrees, although she has a pretty different type of reasoning. In fact, most Slytherins think the idea of you doing it is hilarious."

"Hermione!" Jacqueline cried when she saw her, jumping to her feet. "Come sit down with us! We were just talking about you. It's unbelievable how gullible some people can be. Absolutely unbelievable. I don't know how anyone can think that you are the Heir of Slytherin. I mean, you're a half-blood yourself for goodness sake!"

"Exactly," Lucretia sneered from where she was seating on the couch. "You're a half-blood. As if a half-blood could ever be the Heir of Slytherin."

Hermione could not help but smile at the irony of her words. She did not seem to be alone in that opinion, however. Most of the Slytherins rejected the idea of her being the Heir of Slytherin based on the blood status.

Imagine if they knew I am actually Muggle-born.

The following day did not pass as smoothly as Sunday did. Hermione could no longer avoid people, and all day in her classes, students from other Houses were looking at her suspiciously and sitting as far away from her as possible, as though they expected her to attack them in the middle of the classroom. One Gryffindor boy even went as far as to pointedly show Hermione the clove of garlic that he wore around his neck, only to have it confiscated by Professor Dumbledore, who smiled reassuring at Hermione. That had lifted her hopes somewhat as it reminded her that Dumbledore suspected Tom, not her.

At the end of that Transfiguration class, Minerva approached Hermione once again. This time, she looked slightly anxious.

"Hi, Hermione. I just thought you should know that the Aurors interviewed me today, and they...er...well, they asked about you. They interviewed Emma before me, so I'm sure she would have told them all about her ridiculous theory," Minerva said quickly, looking exasperated. "But I told them it was absurd and I listed all the reasons I could think of. I just thought you should know that they were asking about you."

"Thanks, Minerva," Hermione said calmly, though she was extremely unnerved.

She shared a look with Harry and Ron and she saw that they looked exactly how she felt.

"You don't think...I mean, like Minerva said, it could be standard questioning, right? It's not like they have any proof or anything… it's just speculation," said Ron.

Harry nodded vigorously.

"That's right; they don't have anything against you, Hermione."

But Hermione did worry. In fact, she spent the whole day worrying, for it seemed that almost everywhere she turned, she could see one of the three Aurors walking around the castle, examining walls or randomly questioning students who happened to walk by. She made a point of avoiding them whenever she could, simply because they gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

It was not until that evening that something finally drove the thought of the Aurors out of her mind. It occurred as she and Ron made their way hurriedly back to their common room from the Room of Requirement. It was only a few minutes from curfew and they were still on the seventh floor. Suddenly, without warning, Ron fell to ground and Hermione gasped, immediately recognising that he had been stunned. She thought she heard a sound around the corner in front of her. Shocked and somewhat frightened, she raised her wand to defend herself, but the undeniable sound of footsteps came from behind her and she spun around quickly on her spot. Her body went cold when she saw Riddle step out from behind a large statue, his wand raised and his eyes on Ron, looking both satisfied and disdainful.

"That was surprisingly easy," he said, his tone falsely conversational.

It suddenly occurred to Hermione that she was alone with Riddle just before curfew on the seventh floor in a mostly uninhabited corner of the castle and, apart from the stunned figure of Ron lying on the floor, they were very much alone. Her throat was suddenly very dry.

"What do you want?" she asked.

But Riddle ignored her and continued looking at Ron.

"You know, in this dim light, he really does look like he's been Petrified, doesn't he?" Riddle said softly. "Shame he's a half-blood."

"What do you want?" Hermione demanded, her voice more shrill at the implied threat.

"What? Surely, I haven't made you uncomfortable, Hermione?" he said mockingly, finally looking at her. "Not you, surely? You are everyone's favourite candidate for the Heir of Slytherin."

"I – I –" she stuttered, too angry for words.

"You've been too careless, Hermione," Riddle said suddenly, his expression hardening slightly. "Much too careless. Your little stunt cost us more than you can imagine."

"What stunt?" she asked, completely thrown off course by Riddle's change in tact.

"Don't play the fool with me," he said coldly. "If you had not let everyone believe that we'd broken up, I would have never given Andrea the time of day when she had so shamelessly flirted with me, and no one would have ever suspected you, Tom Riddle's jealous ex-girlfriend of being the Heir of Slytherin. Don't you realise how much attention this could draw to our research?"

Hermione stared at him, flabbergasted. Didn't he even care that she was taking the blame for his crime? But of course he did not care… no, Tom Riddle cared only for one person, and that was himself. Everyone else was just a pawn, there to be used to his advantage and disposed of when the opportune moment arose.

"How – how is this my fault?"

"I didn't give you permission to break up with me, but that isn't important right now. No, what's important is that you've been hiding things from me, Hermione. Don't think I've forgotten that. You swore a Felix Vow to tell me everything you knew, and I know that there's something you aren't telling me. Now, I don't how you've done it, but there must have been a loop hole in the Vow that I missed. But I will not tolerate it any longer," he said warningly, stepping intimidating towards her.

Hermione instinctively took a step back, her wand raised, certain that the only reason she had not already cowered was because of the courage the necklace was bestowing on her.

Riddle flicked his wand and cast a nonverbal spell, and before Hermione even had time to react, her wand flew from her hand and landed neatly in his. Before her panic could really set in, Riddle had her pinned against the wall, with his palms pressed firmly against the wall on her either side, locking her in.

"Get away from me," Hermione insisted firmly, horrified by their proximity, the memory of their last encounter fresh in her mind.

But Riddle only smiled, a fond though condescending smile.

"You didn't mind so much last time, though, did you?" he said softly, his eyes locked on hers. "No, you liked it very much."

Hermione didn't respond. Instead, she tried to move away from him, but found to her horror that she could not move her legs or arms, nor could she turn her head away from him. Riddle chuckled at the alarmed expression on her face.

"Just a precaution. No need to look so afraid. You have no reason to fear me, Hermione. We'd make a good team, you and I. We both have something the other needs, don't we? If you tell what you've been hiding from me, I'd be more than willing to tell you what you want to know, or to even help you find it. You'll find that I can be very reasonable, Hermione," he said.

He spoke as though his words were height of reason, as though he was doing her a great favour. But Hermione truly understood at that moment how Riddle was able to manipulate those he needed. It was only the fact that she knew exactly who he was that was keeping her safe from his suggestions.

"No," she whispered.

"Tut, tut, not so fast. I'm not finished yet," he said quietly and as he did so, he leaned his head slowly towards her, as though to kiss her. Her eyes locked on his lips and her breath caught in her throat. She watched in terror as he drew closer, until he was tantalisingly close. She wished he would step away from her, but a small part of her yearned for him to close the gap. Then, suddenly, he took a step away from her, putting a sizable distance between them, his arms no longer by her sides. Hermione felt suddenly cold, robbed of the warmth that his proximity provided, and very much ashamed.

"You'll find I can a formidable opponent to those who oppose me, Hermione. Remember your Vow. You have one week to choose where your alliances stand. Until then," he said warningly, before walking away.

---

What Hermione and Riddle both failed to realise was that the stunned Ron was not the only other person in their presence. The sound that Hermione had heard in the corridor around the corner had in fact been the footstep of none other than Albus Dumbledore, who was conducting his routine check of the corridors. In their defence, he was, of course, invisible, as that made the job so much easier, and so when he turned quietly into the corridor where the three were, his presence went very much unnoticed. Naturally, upon noticing just who he had run into and the tension in the air, he chose to remain unseen.

He watched as the events unfolded before him, wand always ready in case Riddle went a step too far. He watched as Riddle walked away and Hermione stared at the wall in front of her, not yet aware that she could move. Her hands, however, were trembling and she soon took a step away from the wall, casting a worried look at her friend, Mr. Wesley.

Albus was still trying to understand what had happened. The only point he had really understood was that Hermione had information that Tom wanted, but that she was unwilling to give… and that Tom had information for her in return. Albus thought back to his trip to Godric's Hollow. He had found no clues at the Monument, and yet he was sure that something significant had occurred there to make Tom consider the trip a success. Could the information be related to that? Or to the Necklace itself?

But a more sinister suggestion had crept into his mind. Albus could hardly believe it, but it almost seemed to him that Tom's warning about Hermione being careless implied that Hermione had exposed herself.

He watched as Hermione, her hands now stable, Enervated her friend and told him that a young girl whose face she did not see had stunned him.

Could Hermione Jean really be the Heir of Slytherin?

---

The next few days passed very slowly for Hermione. On one hand, there was the constant staring, whispers, and occasional abuse from suspicious students to deal with, and on the other, her heart seemed to skip a beat whenever she saw one of the Aurors, as though certain they were ready to lock her up in Azkaban. But they never stopped her or even so much as looked at her, though she knew it was only a matter of time before they did.

However, nothing wreaked havoc in her mind the way Riddle did. Not that he had bothered her since that Monday night, but the fear that he might confront her again before the week's time was up, perhaps to change his mind or give her a little reminder, kept her distracted all day long. And the thought that he might give her a reason to see Lord Voldemort shining through that handsome face terrified her late into the night. It was one thing to know that he was the one attacking the Muggle-borns, but it was another altogether to actually see him doing something evil. Part of her knew that it would take catching him in the act and seeing the evil shine through his eyes for her to truly fear him and put aside her feelings.

With all this on her mind, Hermione was very pleased when the day of Ron's play finally arrived. It providing her with the perfect opportunity to distract herself and take her mind off of things. An hour before the play was set to start, Harry and Hermione made their way down to the Great Hall just as Ron had asked them to and meet with him at the entrance. Hermione could not help but be amused at his appearance. Rather than the suit of armour that Sir Luckless usually wore, Ron was clad in an old-fashioned tunic of deep emerald green that came just past his knees and was split slightly at the front. Printed across the front was a gold dragon. His arms and legs were protected by shiny chain mail and his feet laden in thick, heavy black boots. On his head, he wore a metal helmet that left his face exposed and around his waist was a belt to which his sword was attached.

"Well," he said self-consciously. "What do you think? I mean, we had to ditch the chain mail on the neck because I couldn't really move, and the gloves were just down right annoying but–"

"I think you look brilliant, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, beaming.

"I agree," added Harry. "Hilarious, of course, but brilliant! I only wish I have a camera, you know, to prove it to Fred and George when we get back."

"Oh, shut up, Harry," Ron said, but he looked pleased, or at least as pleased as such a nervous person could look. For indeed, Hermione thought that Ron looked just as he did before a Quidditch match – ready to vomit.

"Ron, didn't you say Professor Beery had a potion ready for your nerves?" Hermione asked.

Ron grimaced in response.

"Yeah, but I have to take it about five minutes before the show starts because he couldn't get much of it. I just hope it lasts," he added, his face turning slightly green. "Anyway, I should really be getting back inside. I'm not really meant to leave the hall or let anyone see the costume yet."

Harry patted him on the shoulder and Hermione gave him a quick, one-armed hug. Just at that moment, however, the door to the Great Hall creaked open and Scarlett popped her head out. Hermione could just see that she was wearing a fancy dress robe of pale gold. But it was the shocked expression on her face that drew Hermione's attention and she quickly stepped away from Ron.

"Ron!" Scarlett hissed, "what are you doing out here? And what is she doing here?" she asked, throwing a nasty look at Hermione.

Hermione knew exactly what was coming, but choose to feign ignorance anyway.

"And why exactly shouldn't I be here?" she asked innocently.

"As if you don't know. I'll have you know that Emma already told the Aurors all about you. I won't get too comfortable here if I were you. I don't expect we'll be seeing you back after the Christmas break," she said with a sneer.

Ron's face was suddenly red and he looked at Scarlett furiously.

"How dare you talk to Hermione like that!" he cried. "Apologise!"

"No! How can you defend her? She's the Heir of Slytherin!" Scarlett insisted, crossing her arms insolently against her chest.

"Scarlett! I've already told you. Hermione is not the Heir of Slytherin!"

"How can you trust her? How? Practically everyone suspects her!"

"Well, I don't," Ron retorted angrily. "I know she's innocent and I won't stand to hear you talking about her like that!"

By this stage, Scarlett was positively seething and Hermione knew that if looks could kill, not even the necklace around her neck would save her.

"And I can't stand to hear you defending someone who is pure evil!"

"Oh, don't worry on that front; I certainly won't be defending you any time soon."

Scarlett looked absolutely scandalised.

"You really are just a stupid, selfish Slytherin, aren't you?" she growled. "Well, I'll tell you what, Ron. It's either me or her! You can't have us both. You make that choice."

"It's a rather easy choice to make, Scarlett," Ron said coldly. "If that's how you feel, then we're through."

"Fine!" she snapped, before turning on her heals and storming away.

Harry and Hermione gaped at Ron with their mouths hanging open.

"Wow, Ron," Harry said after a moment. "Didn't know you had it in you. Good choice, I'd say."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, bright eyed, and at a loss for words, she gave him another quick hug.

"Yeah, well, she was starting to get annoying anyway," Ron said bashfully.

Ron soon departed back into the Great Hall for last minute preparations and Harry and Hermione returned to the Slytherin common room. Hermione offered to watch the Marauders' map for the rest of the evening, a task which she was volunteering for much more often as of late, as though she hoped to prove her loyalty to Harry and Ron.

When the time came, she and Harry made their way back to the Great Hall. Since they had last been in there for lunch, it had been decorated thoroughly and a large stage had been set up where the teachers' table should have been, but they could not actually see it since thick, velvet curtains hung across it. Small tables had been set up around the hall for the teachers to sit on.

Hermione took her seat by Harry at the Slytherin table and for once, people were not looking at her. Everyone was too excited about the play to bother about her that night and Hermione finally felt like she could sit back and enjoy the play.

At length, Professor Beery stood up and gave a quick and rather animated introduction to the play. His cheeks were flushed with excitement and he kept dropping the hat he was holding in his hand. The only person who looked more nervous than him was Professor Kettleburn, who kept scratching his face anxiously and rubbing his nose. Hermione wondered if he was worried about the giant worm he had provided for the play.

Once Professor Beery had finished his speech, he raised his wand and the curtains flew to the side, revealing the set. Hermione was surprised to see at least twenty students standing on the stage rather than just the four. They were all dressed in old-fashioned clothing, some in robes and other in peasant-style Muggle clothing. At the front of the stage, Scarlett, Bethany, and Emma were standing next to each other, drawing the immediate attention of the crowd. Hermione could see Ron in a distance by the gate into the garden, seated and looking hopeless and miserable. A seventh year Hufflepuff boy stood by the edge of the stage dressed as a nobleman and started to narrate the story. He explained that the people had gather at this spot in the hope that they would be chosen to enter the garden and be allowed to bathe in the waters of the Fountain and Fair Fortune. Once he was done, Bethany stepped forward and spoke to Emma and Scarlett.

"My name is Asha, and I have been struck by an illness that even the most talented of healers could not heal," she said, her expression sorrowful. "I hope that the Fountain may finally cure me of this burden. What has brought you here, my fair maidens?"

Emma stepped forward next and declared, "An evil sorcerer has robbed me of my home and of my gold and wand. I hope that the Fountain of Fair Fortune will relieve me of my poverty and restore to me what is rightfully mine."

"And I," said Scarlett, "have had my heart torn to pieces by a man who I loved like no other. I hope only that the Fountain might restore my aching heart."

And so the three went on in this vain, consoling each other and vowing that they will help each other in their quest. Then, a trumpet was blown, and all the students on stage gathered around the gate. The gate opened slowly, and a number of creepers vines snacked out of the garden and wrapped themselves around Bethany. Bethany let out a cry of joy and wrapped her arms around Emma's waist, who in turn clung to Scarlett. And the vines tugged the witches forward into the garden and blocked off all the others who tried to get in, but as the three witches were dragged away, Scarlett's robe caught on the belt of Ron, and he was dragged in with them.

The curtains fell but opened again barely a minute later, silencing the students who had taken the chance to start their gossip about the actors. The scene had changed. Now, only the four students were left onstage and the hill that Dumbledore had designed appeared before them. The hill was so high that they could not see its top for it was covered by the curtain, but Hermione knew from seeing it previously that it extended so high that it only just missed touching the high ceiling.

After much arguing about what should be done with Ron – who introduced himself as a Muggle known as Sir Luckless because of his dismal fortunes – the three witches decide that he would have to come with them. So they made their way up the hill in search of the Fountain. Just as Professor Dumbledore had explained, the hill sunk into the ground as they walked, though the top did not get any nearer. Soon, the four were confronted by a giant worm.

Professor Kettleburn did not disappoint. Although Hermione thought that the worm looked more like a snake than anything else, it was enormous and definitely fearsome. It was painfully obvious that the fear in the faces of the four actors was real at that moment, and Hermione was sure she even heard Ron swear, but they composed themselves and the "worm" behaved as Professor Kettleburn had promised – when Asha shed her tears, the creature slithered back under the stage.

The play continued as the four made their way up the hill and passed more obstacles. Hermione had to admit that the four were doing a brilliant job at acting. And she was especially proud of Ron, who masterfully overcame his stage fright – though Hermione knew the potion Professor Beery provided had much to do with it.

At length they came to the Fountain of Fair Fortune at the top of the hill. The three witches, who had all had their problems fixed for them in the course of the climb, all turned to Ron and declared that he should be the one to bathe. And so he did, and when he stepped out of the water, he turned to look at Bethany, who played Asha.

It was then that Hermione realised something was wrong. Sir Luckless was meant to propose to Amata – played by Scarlett – after bathing, but Ron was not even looking at her. The expressions on the faces of the three witches became suddenly fixed, and Hermione could see that Professor Beery looked as though he were about to have a heart attack.

"Dearest Asha!" Ron declared. "You are the most beautiful and lovely woman I have ever met! Would you be so kind as to allow me to take your hand in marriage?"

From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Professor Beery fall out of his chair, but no one paid him any attention because at that moment, a terrible explosion echoed through the hall and the stage was suddenly on fire. Hermione immediately realised what had happened – the giant worm was not a worm at all. It was an Ashwinder. The creature, which only lives for an hour, must have laid its eggs under the stage. Most unfortunately for Professor Kettleburn, whose job was now most certainly at stake, Ashwinder eggs are highly flammable and should never be kept near wood. And now the wooden stage was on fire.

Remarkably, however, confused students had jumped to their feet and the staff were already sprinting towards the stage. Scarlett turned angrily on Ron and Bethany and started swearing at them, which enraged Bethany so much that she shot a hex in retaliation. She missed, but Scarlett needed little encouragement and she shot a hex back at her, and soon the two were dueling fiercely. Emma was yelling at them to stop while Ron – rather wisely – sprinted off the burning stage.

Hermione could not help but laugh. She laughed even harder as Professor Beery, who was almost in tears, ran onto the stage and started yelling at the girls to stop fighting only to be hit by a wayward curse. Her laughter was cut short, however, as another explosion shook the stage and the curtain caught on fire. Students were screaming now, and the few teachers who were not already fighting to control the blaze were shouting orders at students to evacuate the hall in an orderly fashion. Naturally, no one took any heed of them and Hermione felt herself being pushed around by students running frantically to the door.

It took a while, but she finally managed to escape from the Great Hall, her throat sore from all the smoke she had inhaled. She had lost Harry, however, and as she tried to push her way through the crowded Entrance Hall in search of him, she heard her name being called.

She turned around and saw Professor Dumbledore standing at the edge of the crowd and beckoning her forward. Confused and apprehensive, she made her way towards him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Miss Jean," he said solemnly, "I'd like to see you in my office, please. The Aurors have requested to interview you."

---

A/N - I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Also, a big thanks to my betas Serpent In Red and Hajnalmadar. They've been of great help through out this story. I started uni a few days ago, and since I'm doing 9-5 pretty much every day, I'm exhausted by the time I got home and just don't have much time to write. But as I mentioned previously, I'll still try to get one chapter out here every two weeks. If I expect delays, I'll leave a message on my profile as well as some info on when I expect the next update to be ready. Until then. :)