Reckless ~ Tomione

Walburga

A lot of fillers, but it's somewhat necessary to the plot. I'm uploading in short bursts instead of one long chapter, so there's going to be less action in some parts. Leave a comment, tell me know what you think!

As usual, Hermione received full marks for the potion she brewed. Slughorn had been exceedingly impressed, and it wasn't the first time he had yelled in excitement over her final product.

"Oh, my, Miss Greystone," he exclaimed. "Oh, yes, this is delightful! Quite so! Such good work, ten points to Slytherin!"

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione replied, not unkindly, but with a curt edge to her words.

"I think we have another witch who will get very far in life here," he said quietly to her, giving a wink. He pulled out an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. "This is an invitation to the Slug Club, my own personal group of all the best students I've had over the years. Good work, Miss Greystone."

"Oh, thank you, Sir," she responded, remembering the club from her own time. "I'm honoured."

"Someone with your brains and ambition is sure to make it big. Just don't forget us here at Hogwarts, eh?" Slughorn laughed. "All right, everyone, class is over! Don't forget about the essay that's due by next Monday!"

~

Hermione sat on her bed, rifling through the trunk that had been provided by the school when she had first arrived. She mulled over the conversation she had overheard that morning between Tom and the centaur and wondered if they had said anything helpful. Nothing stood out to her, and clearly Tom didn't make anything useful of it either if he had left in such anger.

Distracting her from the pressure of the Second Task, however, was the invitation to the party from Slughorn. The date was set to be in four days, in the evening.

"Just perfect," muttered the huffy witch, as she pulled out what appears to be the tattered remains of an old dress-robe, even worse than the one Ron had worn to the Yule Ball.

Hermione smiled fondly thinking of her friend, who, admittedly at the time, had acted like a total arse. She remembered the poor Patil twins, and how their dates had been extremely poor-mannered while moping over other girls. She quite wished she had made it here to Hogwarts on time for the Yule Ball that had been held at Christmastime, as was tradition, but alas. 

"All this gunk, and not a single dress or robe I can wear to a formal party!" Hermione groaned. She heaved herself up from the floor and padded to the Common Room to find Draco, who was sitting in front of the fire doing his Charms homework.

"Hermione?"

"Draco, do you have any dresses?" she asked. He gave her a questioning look with a side of 'what in Merlin's name are you going on about, woman?' She heard snickering from one of the others sitting nearby. Draco turned around and glared, which promptly shut Avery up.

"Why do you ask?" He put his quill down and turned to face her. "Do you think I'd just have a dress in my trunk?"

"Well, considering I just pulled half a quidditch uniform from the 1700s out of mine, I'd say, yeah, there's a chance," she snorted. "Half, like the entire left side of a complete set."

"You should really get rid of that." Draco scrunched his nose and stood. "Let's go see then, stubborn witch. What do you need a dress for, we wear uniforms all the time."

"Slughorn invited me to this thing, and I need something formal to wear," she replied. He headed into the male dormitories, and Hermione followed closely. As he knelt down in front of the trunk sitting at the foot of one the the beds, Draco looked up. 

"Are you supposed to be in here? I know the others, especially Mulciber, won't be happy knowing you came in."

Hermione shrugged, watching him pull out various items of clothing that had clearly seen better days. "It's not like I'm going through his things and taking his family heirlooms to sell in some sketchy shop in Knockturn Alley."

He rolled his eyes, then gagged when he touched an old shoe that reeked of aged cabbages. Using his wand, Draco managed to levitate it out and disintegrate it, but the stench left both in shock.

"That would have looked good on you, you know?" Hermione whistled. "Really fits your whole 'dark' vibe."

"Don't be silly, Hermione, it would have worked better with your 'I need a dress' look." He glared.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, if there's a dress in there, I sure haven't found it. Tomorrow's the weekend, you can go to Hogsmeade and buy something," he suggested and stood up. He didn't wait for Hermione as he walked out of the room.

Dammit, now she needed two outfits. She swore to herself that she would go to a seamstress over the weekend to get something.

~

She arrived back in her own dorms, mulling over her problems when she noticed that the room was not empty. Walburga Black sat on her own bed, and stared at Hermione as she entered.

The two made eye contact and, unsure of how to proceed, Hermione gave the Black heiress a curt nod.

"Hello," Walburga greeted. Her voice wavered on the 'o', but she kept her confident pose. Hermione looked up at the unexpected greeting to see the other girl straightening her shoulders and contorting her face into its usual haughty expression.

"Good day," Hermione returned, hoping to get back to her own train of thought. Walburga, however had other ideas.

"I don't believe we've been acquainted," she said. "We share sleeping quarters, and yet know very little about each other."

Yes, and I hope to keep it that way.

"Yes, what a shame. But I do think being reprimanded every morning by you makes us more than enough acquainted, don't you?"

"Well, perhaps it is so, but I do think you should meet my friends. They are in the same house as us, and yet they tell me that you have not yet been introduced," Black pressed, her voice getting slightly more tight as she spoke. Hermione thought about what she meant. "But of course, you would know Tom Riddle. He speaks highly of you, and hopes that in the future, you could be of use to one another."

There it was. Tom Riddle. Was she being recruited?

"That's very kind of him to say," Hermione replied hesitantly. "Please pass along my sincere thanks and my hopes for the day to come where that comes to fruition."

"Well, if you are willing, he would like for you to join us. It's very simple, really. We are all supporters of the same cause, and contribute in working towards its eventual triumph," Walburga said proudly. Her voice lost the quivering quality to it and she sounded more confident. "Provided you are a pureblood, which we have already established, and can provide something."

"Oh, that sounds interesting," Hermione said, making sure to stretch the phrase out. "I'd like to hear about it sometime, if you would be so kind as to explain some details for me."

"Oh, yes, that would be- yes." Hermione sensed some relief in her voice. "I'll see you around, Greystone."

And with that, Black strode out of the room. Hermione was left to ponder her thoughts. Clearly, she had just been recruited, which meant that Tom had found some use for her and her skillset. One step closer to preventing Lord Voldemort from rising, but also a step closer to the inferno that would burn her alive at any given chance.