Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

Rings & Rallies

Tom's heart was racing as his eyes flew wide open. His body was tense, frozen in the aftermath of a dream which felt too real. His eyes glowed ruby red as his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

After a moment, he realized where he was, but he couldn't shake the surrealness he felt, as if nothing around him really existed. It was a strange feeling as he glanced about himself in the dark, still tethered to the dream plane he'd been in during his sleep. He sat up in bed, running his hand over his face.

"Hermione?" he called softly.

But no. She wasn't there.

He hadn't seen her for three days. Not since the funeral.

His contacts at the ministry kept him up to date on her activities and whereabouts, so he hadn't been too worried about her safety until now.

But then...

Tom's mind drifted back to the dream.

Hermione's screams filled his ears, reaching him from somewhere in the distance. Tom's feet wouldn't move; he was stuck where he stood. Before him was a mirror framed by a serpent eating its own tail... and in the mirror, when Tom peered into its darkness, a face appeared.

Not his face, but that of another man, one who seemed vaguely familiar to Tom. His hair was dark and chin-length, his skin a deep olive tone, and his eyes were red... as red as Tom's own. He had a prominent, leonine nose and a long face, with a strong, defined jawline.

The man's lip was curled into a snarl.

Tom's brows drew forward sharply as he stared back at the man. He then cocked his head and to his surprise, the man in the mirror also cocked his head, mirroring his movements.

Tom somehow knew, whether through his powers of legilimency or through that kind of knowing that one possesses in dreams through partaking of the spirit world, that he knew this man.

Hermione screamed again, somewhere in the distance. He'd had the same dream multiple times recently, but he could never get to her, never find her in the dream plane he was in.

Suddenly, the man jerked forward and grabbed Tom by the collar, pulling him into the mirror with him. When Tom crossed the threshold, the man was no longer handsome and dark skinned, but pale like a vampire, with snakelike eyes and mere slits for nostrils.

"Give it back," he hissed to Tom.

"Give what back?" Tom spat in reply.

The creature's red eyes darkened, turning black. "You know what you took. Give it back."

Tom had awoken from the dream at that moment. He had half a mind to visit a seer, one gifted with interpreting dreams.

Dreams and prophetic utterances had always plagued Tom. He feared them because they seemed to come from some source unknown, something beyond.

At least magic was something Tom could wield, could study. But the seer realm was something outside of Tom's control, proof of that which he had always hoped to avoid by evading death.

With a growl of frustration he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, taking his wand from the night table. The lamps lit magically as he waved it, then walked across the creaky floors to his magical hiding place. He drew a line with his wand in the air, opening the pocket in space where his diary was hidden.

Reaching inside the opening, he withdrew a tiny box. He popped open the lid. On a bed of black velvet lay a delicately wrought ring. A serpent, its scales dusted with diamonds, wound itself around a large, faceted emerald. The snake formed an ouroboros, the same as the mirror in his dream.