Persephone Rising

The lines of verse refused to leave her head for the next few days. She had placed both of Tom's notes and the mirror on her bedside table. The mirror didn't reflect anything, it was just a circle of polished obsidian. She had been in the middle of performing a test for jinxes on it when she'd been interrupted by her mother, who had commented on the mirror's beauty and asked where she'd got it. In a panic she'd said Harry had leant it to her and had quickly whisked the mirror and notes off to a more secret location.

 In the middle of breakfast next morning, the loud tapping of an owl's beak against the windowpane interrupted the bacon and toast. Hermione felt a rush of adrenaline as she undid the clasp around the owl's ankle and two deliveries rolled out. One was her usual copy of the Daily Prophet; the other was a blank envelope. Maybe it was from him. Smiling, she slid it out of view and started to scan the front page of the newspaper.

"Well Sprite have a nice day, I am sure you've plenty of potions to brew and incantations to chant."

"Oh Dad don't be silly." She smiled at him, every inch the devoted daughter. She was trying her best to curb the frustration building inside her. She just wanted to open that note. Finally her Dad seemed ready to go.

He smiled and ruffled her hair as he left for work. Not a minute too soon she thought as she raced up to her room. The steep climb up the steps wasn't the only thing making her heart pound. She tore open the little white envelope with a vague sort of desire to hear more from her strange night visitor.

Hey 'Mione,

The Muggles have gone off to Aunt Marge's for the week so I can use Hedwig. Fancy meeting Ron and me to see the Chudley Cannons against Puddlemere United? Ron's Dad was going too but he's been called away on urgent ministry business.

WB Harry

"Oh." Hermione murmured to the room at large. She was mildly surprised that she was disappointed. She'd been all ready for another cryptic note and it was Harry instead. She pulled out Tom's letters from the drawer for what seemed the hundredth time to re-read them. Then she caught herself, this was the same person who'd committed a mass killing spree over half of Europe, why was she becoming so engrossed with him.

She turned her attention back to the letter once more. Through all the layers of friendliness she realized that she'd only been asked as a last resort because Ron's Dad couldn't go. She was willing to bet that they'd already asked every Weasley before they'd thought of her. The shame and sadness of the Champions ball flooded back, the situation all to familiar.

She was still debating whether to go almost an hour later. She knew her parents wouldn't object, it was just that the whole new dimension of her life opened up by Voldemort's intrusion over the last few months was niggling away inside her. Was she slowly being drawn into the dark arts? No she couldn't say he was trying to draw her in. He'd never said anything about that. She really did need her friends right now. She needed an end to this constant emotional stress and worry.

Hey Harry,

Sounds great, I'll take the Knight Bus and meet you in Diagon Alley at about 9.30pm. Is it okay to spend the night at Ron's house? Are you and he going back to Hogwarts after the game?

Looking forward to it!

Love from

Hermione.

As she'd expected, her parents didn't object in the slightest. One week later she was catching the Knight Bus to the house just outside of Ottery St. Catchpole. Hermione didn't bring the mirror. She wanted to get away from its black reflectionless surface. She couldn't help but feel it was sucking something out of her, she had felt so tired lately.

"...............and Larkspur passes to Cherrystone, ohh barely caught that one. They're heading up to the goal, IT'S IN that's 10 points to the Chudley Cannons!"

The crowd went wild. Hermione attempted a halfhearted cheer and sat back down, thoroughly bored by this point. She knew she shouldn't have accepted. She loathed Quidditch. She only turned up to school matches to support Harry and house pride.

Instead she was thinking about the one thing she'd come here to escape. Tom. She knew he was manipulating her. She wasn't easy to manipulate. The only reason he was getting away with it was that in some twisted way she liked it. But if she liked it, then where was all of this going? Was she truly turning into the kind of person he was?

"Hermione? Hermione, are you petrified or something?"

"Humph err what?"

Hermione was started out of her reverie, as Ron's voice pulled her back into reality. She looked up to see that her two friends were standing on their seats jumping up and down in excitement. Around the pitch there was a series of deafening bangs and flashes, followed by billowing orange smoke as the enthusiastic fans saluted their victory with a trademark Chudley Cannon Blast.

On the way back to the burrow, the boys chattered endlessly over the various moves and goals that she had not bothered to watch. She barely spoke except to respond to the occasional inquiries as to whether she was "OK?" The rain came down in buckets as they made the short walk back from the village to the Burrow. When they finally stepped over the threshold of the Weasley's door, Hermione and Harry were practically swamped by Ron's Mum as she fussed over them, drying their clothes and offering hot chocolate after hot chocolate.

Hermione was beginning to get very tired; she'd been up half the night before talking about everyone and everything around the Weasley hearth. Arthur Weasley was the first to realize this and very kindly offered to apparate her home. She thanked him profusely and after apologizing for a non-existent headache she left, Harry and Ron still intensely discussing the match.

Hermione had been in bed a full five minutes, and was nearly asleep when she rolled over and felt the crinkle of paper under her head. Then she noticed the parchment folded on her pillow. This time there was no doubt that it was from him. Her hands shook as she laid out the letter.

Dear Hermione,

I was so looking forward to seeing you, it was a terrible disappointment when I arrived and found you were not here. I did wait some time, of course, but when you did not appear I thought it prudent to depart. I see you've retained my brief letters. I assume you liked the poem? How about this one?

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,

Now are visions ne'er to vanish;

From thy spirit shall they pass

No more, like dew-drop from the grass.

Yours,

Tom

The first feeling to enter her head was elation. She was becoming more and more fascinated by the darkly cynical character that was leaving her these notes and verses. No one had ever paid such attention to her before. Then once more, reality stuck its poisoned fangs into her joy. Why was it him? He wasn't someone she even wanted in her life. He wasn't a young man he was a foul old wizard who had tried to murder her friends no less then four times.

But he wasn't what she'd thought. It had never before occurred to her that they might be anything alike. He wasn't forcing her; this wasn't in line with anything she'd ever heard about his visits to households. Maybe for once he wasn't just using someone. He'd asked her questions that implied he knew just how she felt, how could anyone know how she felt. She never let on when she was unhappy. How could he have known?

No! Something deep inside her screamed as she began to have the first flickers about perhaps trying just a look at some Dark Arts spells. It would only be a look, only a look she kept repeating to herself. She knew when she got like this she was in denial over things. There was no one she could talk to about this situation. Not Harry or Ron and certainly not Dumbledore or any of her Professors. No one. Except Tom and he was the cause of all this. With a flash of dark humour she envisaged trying to talk to Harry.

"This is Tom, you know him as Lord Voldemort."

"No don't be scared he's nicer than he looks, and he's quite handsome too."

She laughed bitterly at the imagined look on Harry's face; this whole episode was stupid. Why had she ever let the situation get to this point? Handsome? Had she really just said that Lord Voldemort was handsome? She had. What was going on in her head? How had she managed to go in a matter of months from being so confident of life, the universe and everything to being confused and steadily drawn to the seductive embrace of power? It was time to talk to Tom; she would do a little manipulation of her own.

She examined the mirror carefully for twenty minutes before realizing how it worked. She tapped it in the centre of the circle repeating the verse on the first note he'd given her. It opened out and expanded, the mirror becoming a dark black emptiness. It was a link, one of two mirrors, like a mini floo network. She scribbled a few words on a scrap of paper and fed it into the hole.

Why are you doing this?

If what he had told her was true then that would elicit a response. She was going to find out what it was he wanted and she had to pull it off convincingly. It wasn't hard to feign tears as they weren't entirely faked. She was feeling more lost and alone than she could ever recall. Hopefully if he felt she was distressed he might let down his guard.

After a wait of almost twenty minutes she suddenly became aware that there was someone in the room with her. It was Tom. He looked utterly bewildered and genuinely concerned. Excellent, she smiled inwardly, he'd been taken in.

"What's wrong, Hermione?"

"Everything was alright, and then you came along and now I don't know what to do....."

She sniffed realistically and maintained a tight control of her expressions.

"I'm sorry. I was only trying to help you be what you can be. Free you from these ridiculous impediments."

She smiled slightly through the tears. This was going to work.

"Why did you come?"

"To answer the letter." He held it out in one pale slim hand.

"What is your answer then?"

"I told you before that I saw potential in you Hermione. I want to help you."

"Help me, by turning me into your lackey?" It sounded more venomous than she'd intended.

"No, no I would never presume to call someone like you a lackey. You are much to powerful for that."

"I am?" She was genuinely surprised. She'd always studied hard at school but no one had ever implied that she was more than just bright.

"That fool Dumbledore is trying to restrain you, Hermione, because of what happened to me. He opened my eyes to the world and I saw what it was, I tried to change it. He is holding you back because he does not want that to happen again."

"I....I am like you?"

"With help then yes, quite possibly."

Her curiosity got the better of her. She had always had a vague thirst to read the forbidden books lurking in the far reaches of Hogwarts library, but she had never thought of herself as wielding the power to control the primal forces contained within them.

"What's it like? The Dark Arts I mean..."

He stared at her hard, as if he were debating some action he wasn't sure of. "If you like, I could show you." He said finally.

Hermione knew this was a mistake and yet she forcibly silenced any inner voices of protest as she stood and said,

"Show me then."

He seemed to almost float across the floor, his long black cloak rippling even in the absence of any breeze. Standing a few inches behind her he took her hands and raised them out in front of her. His long fingers gripping her hands tightly. She'd always expected him to be cold. He wasn't. He was fiery, his skin exuding such heat that it was warming her body even from a few inches away as he bent her arms into the correct position. She was startled at first by the sudden physical contact but now felt a sudden reassurance that he wasn't out to trick her.

"Concentrate, Hermione." Tom whispered in her ear, "you'll need all your strength for this." The hairs on the back of her neck rose as his breath ghosted over them.

She shut her eyes and began drawing the magic within her into one concentrated spot. She could feel the tension growing in the small confined space. The air seemed to spark with static. Nothing was happening yet though; some spells took their time. Then quite without warning she was hit with an intense barrage of feeling. Every nerve in her body was burning white hot. She could feel her very bones vibrating. She felt she should be in pain but there was none. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced; it was a giddy mix of primitive uncontrolled magic and enormous power - oh such power! She began to shake uncontrollably. Tom held her hands steady and quietly began to reign in the powerful forces she had unleashed.

She opened her eyes again and immediately her legs gave out. She was trembling from head to foot. As she leaned against him for support Tom unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her drawing her closer. She turned to look at him, her eyes alight with wonder.

"Now you see what I mean." He was smiling again in a quiet secret way.

"You can do all that?"

"That wasn't me, it was you. I acted as a grounding force so that you wouldn't lose your hold on self and sanity."

Hermione felt an overwhelming fatigue engulf her. "Tom, I'm so tired...."

"The Dark Arts are drawn from ancient magic Hermione, at first they drain all your strength. Come lay down and rest a while."

Helpless to resist as Tom placed her gently on the bed she drifted into unconsciousness. The wizard who cast deadly fear into the whole magical community now looked down at the exhausted figure and smiled. Safe from the view of others this was a warmer smile, one that had rarely touched his lips these last decades. He reached into the pocket of his cloak and fished out his latest note.

But list, O list,- so soft and low

Thy lover's voice tonight shall flow,

That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem

My words the music of a dream.

Rest well, my Hermione

Tom

Okay this is the author talking now. Shouts out to Jordanna, you are such a help (best beta in the world ladyees n gentz) I am gonna declare a couple of weeks off on this story as my A-levels are now a mere week away but rest assured it's mostly sorted in my head and should appear quite rapidly once I am on holiday. Thanks so much everyone who's reviewed.........you're all stars.

FPS