Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

Flight of the Phoenix

"There's A Story In My Family That A Phoenix Will Come To Any Dumbledore Who Is In Desperate Need."

- Albus Dumbledore

Hermione tossed the invisibility cloak over her head and apparated to Little Hangleton. She wore her wand in a holster on her arm and a goblin-wrought blade strapped to each thigh. It was now November and it was quite cold. Hermione typically wore stockings, heels, and skirts to work along with a warm cloak, but tonight she didn't want anything bulky beneath the invisibility cloak, nor anything which would impede her ability to run if necessary, so she'd opted for a pair of black leggings and a long-sleeved black shirt which she'd still had in her beaded bag from her time on the run with Ron and Harry. She appeared just in front of the little cottage belonging to Frank the gardener, where she'd awoken nearly a year ago.

Just the sight of the mammoth brick and stone mansion gave her chills. The windows were dark, save for one window on the bottom floor which was lit with an eerie green glow. She assumed the meeting was taking place there.

Hermione crept up to the mansion stealthily and peered into the window. The glass was rather dirty, but she could make out several black cloaked figures inside, though the lighting was dim. She hoped that Frank had taken her advice and gotten far away from this place.

Now, Hermione just needed to find a way inside. It was too dangerous to apparate in, and she couldn't very well just walk through the front door of the mansion. She circled around the opposite side of the mansion, looking for any doors that might be unlocked or windows she might sneak in through.

Then, Hermione caught sight of a little wooden stairwell that led to a terrace on the second floor. It looked to be a servant's entrance. Hermione took the steps and withdrew her wand, whispering, " Alohomora ," before trying the doorknob. It opened soundlessly, and Hermione took a deep breath as she stepped through the doorway.

There was nothing but dead silence as she stepped into the Butler's pantry on the second floor. The stairwell had likely given servants easy access to an outdoor kitchen. She cast a silencing charm on her feet and moved deftly through the pantry and out into a long hallway. The hallway ended with an open balcony and a railing which overlooked the grand foyer of the home. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, but it was coated with a thick layer of dust. Before Hermione was a sweeping, curved staircase with an intricately carved wooden railing. She tiptoed down the stairs carefully. The home was beautiful, but there was something in the atmosphere that disturbed Hermione, an imprint of dark magic, cold and evil, as if the memory of murder was imbued into its walls.

Hermione began to pick up on the sound of muffled voices. Her steps slowed as she thought through her options. If she knew Tom, he would likely have placed protective enchantments on the room. Wouldn't he?

Although, she thought, he wouldn't have expected anyone to know of this place. Perhaps he hadn't taken such precautions.

She would have to be careful.

Hermione made her way through the dark, unlit home. The sun was going down and many of the rooms had thick draperies drawn over the windows. Hermione wasn't brave enough to cast lumos , so she simply felt her way in the dimness, following the sound of the voices.

She came to a door in a dark corridor. The voices seemed to be coming from the other side. She needed to get inside the room if she wanted to know what was taking place on the other side of that door. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

This is incredibly stupid, she thought. But she had to know what Tom was up to. Perhaps she would gain enough valuable information to help Gaspard with his investigation. If Hermione could put his Death Eaters in Azkaban, part of her work would be done. Perhaps, with the unrest of the public as to the safety of Azkaban, a new prison would soon be in the works. But Hermione still had her doubts. Tom was too powerful. What if he had been the thief to break into the Historical Society? Those wards were some of the most powerful ever created. They'd been dismantled to perfection; blown to smithereens, even . No, she wouldn't be able to do much damage without striking the head: Voldemort. Hermione shivered, but she forced herself to shake off the fear.