Persephone Rising

She'd heard nothing from Voldemort for months now. In the immediate aftermath she'd decided that if he persisted then she would speak to Dumbledore, however after three months she concluded that he'd given up on her and she was now relatively safe.

She had now passed a whole term at the Castle and was preparing to return home for Christmas. The term hadn't been entirely normal. She had felt a cold shiver each time she passed the chained entrance to the Restricted section. Draco Malfoy had also been almost unbearable. He had taken every opportunity to belittle her and call her names. As a result she had had very uncomfortable thoughts laying on her bed in Gryffindor tower each night that perhaps Tom had been right.

At that moment Harry and Ron knocked loudly on the door and then piled into her dormitory giving a fair impression that they were more than just two people.

“We've come to see you off,” Harry grinned, “are you all packed?”

“Yes, nearly. I just have to squeeze in a few more books I borrowed from the Library for holiday reading.”

Ron shook his head in disbelief, but didn't say anything. Hermione thanked him silently that she could confidently say that neither Ron or Harry had said anything this term even when she had studied , if it were possible, harder than her third year. They walked down to the station enjoying the cold winter sunshine. She was looking forward to returning home but was slightly apprehensive of another night-time visit.

“Are you OK Herm…you look worried about something.”

“No, no I am fine.”

She felt awful lying to her best friends but she didn't dare risk their lives with something that had been a one of months ago. She climbed aboard the train and smiled and waved to Harry as he pulled faces up against the glass and pretended to have a duel with Ron falling over backwards clutching his scar then laughing.

“BYEEEEEEE HER MY OH NEEEEEE!” hollered Ron as the Hogwarts express pulled out and began the journey back towards Christmas and home. Her two friends dwindled to tiny figures as the train sped up and the mountains whisked by. She decided she wasn't going to worry about magic. She was going to enjoy this holiday and get some serious reading done. This mental statement calmed her nerves and she began to wind down for the two week break, going over the shopping list she'd prepared and the time she was supposed to meet her Mum for the drive back.

“Hello, Dear, how are you?” Mrs Granger caught her daughter in a fierce hug. Hermione returned it with equal feeling. Something in her was glad that her mother was still there to be hugged. Ever since Voldemort had chosen to pay a visit Hermione had lived in various levels of fear about the safety of her family.

“So how was your term?”

“Oh so so, had some trouble with that Malfoy again and Harry and Ron have discovered the fairer sex.”

“Those two,” her mother chuckled, “that Harry will be breaking hearts.”

The ride home continued with the catching up and banter, worst teeth seen by her parents, what the neighbours across the road had done to their house, news in the Muggle world. Hermione filled her Mother in on all the mad pranks pulled on various people at various points.

“…of course it was only temporary and I am sure that his henchmen now have a very good understanding of pig Latin.”

They pulled into the driveway just in front of the detached sub-urban house where Hermione had grown up. Muggledom. There was nothing to suggest that this house contained a fledgling witch. Hermione preferred to keep it that way. She heaved her trunk upstairs and collapsed on her bed.

She lay there quietly for the next few hours in a state of semi doze thinking over the last term at Hogwarts. She had tried to ignore the questions her visitor had posed but every time someone belittled her for working to much or answering another impossible question , every time she had to explain the simplest concept to Ron five times over until she felt able to hurt somebody. Every time these things happened she felt an odd twinge as his words echoed through her head.

Her mother called her to dinner and dismissing all thoughts of magic and dark wizards she bounded downstairs to join her family. It was always odd those first few days back to watch her mother serving the dinner rather than it just appearing. It was equally odd to go and watch television after the meal. She never had much time for it since she missed at least half of any series because of Hogwarts, nonetheless she did enjoy a good comedy every now and again.

“Hermione, darling, could you nip to the shops for a pint of milk? We're almost out.”

Slipping out into the cool night air she gazed up almost automatically. The stars were in her opinion the most beautiful spectre the Earth had to offer and she adored the Astronomy classes lasting long into the night fixated on a tiny cluster of young stars. It took her no more than five minutes to return. As she opened the door the house was eerily quiet.

“Mum? I'm back……Mum? Dad?”

There was no answer. A noose of fear tightened around throat as she opened the door to the lounge. Her Mother, Father and younger brother were all sitting on the settee. They were still as statues, their eyes blank and glassy. With a terrified scream she rushed forward. Pulling out her wand she cast counter spell after counter spell. None of them had any effect. Hastily shoving her wand away she placed a finger on her Mum's neck looking for a pulse. There wasn't one. It was as if someone had let loose a coven of banshees in her head all screaming for her to do different things. One course of action finally won out.

“Where are you?” She spat to the room as a whole.

“Hello, Hermione.”

Spinning wildly to face the direction of the sound she laid eyes on a very relaxed Tom Riddle. In a moment of pure rage and forgetting she had her wand she threw herself at him clawing and kicking with all her might.

“You scum! You swine! I'll make you pay! My family! You killed my family!”

Later on she would realise just how lucky she was that he wasn't expecting that. She had managed to land several nasty blows before he recovered enough to respond . After some moments he finally managed to restrain her, gripping her shoulders in a painfully tight hold. Finding she could no longer fight anymore she went limp and began to sob.

“They are not dead.” Riddle's voice cut through her emotional fog like a lightning bolt. She stopped crying and stared at him fearlessly.

“What have you done to them?”

“They are merely petrified.” Hermione went to attack him again. He stopped her with one poison dripping look. “It is a purely temporary state. Have you remembered nothing of our last meeting? I do not wish to hurt you.”

When she said nothing he seemed to take this as leave to continue.

“So, tell me did you heed my advice?”

“I am always myself. I didn't do anything because you told me too.” She hissed.

“I see, what effect did this have on your classmates?”

“Stop questioning me like this. I am not a three year old child.”

“No,” he acknowledged quietly, “but in this overly emotional state you cannot proceed rationally.”

“Let's have you answer some questions then,” she stated bluntly, “why come here and petrify my family if you don't want to kill me? From what I've heard your not into social calls.”

He chuckled slowly. “Now why do I need to answer that? I am sure a mind of your calibre can find the solution to that conundrum on it's own.”

“You want me to join you? Well you're out of luck there. Kill me if you like. I'll never do it.”

“Kill you, well that's the Gryffindor in you, `death before dishonour',” he smiled again. “No I am afraid I don't need you as a follower Hermione.”

“Then why?”

“I see myself in you, Hermione. Misunderstood by your peers, freakishly bright, a growing potential for greatness.”

“I'm not misunderstood by my friends.” Her voice was a little less firm this time.

“So there was no occasion when you were scorned or teased over nothing more than your intelligence?” His voice had a light mocking tone to it.

She couldn't answer that. He seemed to know when she lied. She had to remain humiliating silent.

“So that's a yes.”

It felt suddenly good for someone to turn up who voiced her deepest insecurities with such understanding. It made her feel a little less….alone.

“Yes.” She admitted finally.

The dark lord nodded seemingly satisfied. “Your family will wake soon. I hope we have reached a point of understanding.”

“Take this,” he added, handing her a brown parcel. “If you feel the need to talk again simply use the mirror to send me a message and I will come to you.”

She nodded dumbly.

“Goodbye, Hermione. I hope it will not be too long till our paths cross again.”

As soon as he left it was like someone had un-paused a video. Her family began to move again as if nothing had happened. Her mother turned round and smiled.

“Oh good, you're back did you get the milk?”

It took all the control of her emotions she had just to croak out an answer.

“Sweetie, are you alright? You look terrified, isn't she pale, Martha.” It was her Father speaking now. She managed to gather her scattered brains into one whole again.

“No, Dad, I'm fine. Just a little tired. I think I'll have an early night.”

As she climbed upstairs she opened the small package Tom had given her. Inside was a small circular mirror made of polished sliver about five centimetres across. Also included was a scrap of parchment. The writing was in the same hand as the last note he'd delivered.

O God! Can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream.

What do you think, Hermione? I quite like it.

Tom