Chapter 3: Corrigenda (a list of things to be corrected)

Margaret Wright winced every time the firm leather bit into the little boy's back, and saw with consternation that streaks of bright red blood were steadily dripping from in between his small shoulder blades. The skin was already a deep crimson, inflamed from the abuse, and she could just see the flesh beginning to bruise.

It took a lot to make Tom Riddle cry, but this was enough; even now, Margaret could hear the soft sound of pitiful sobs and his nosy attempts to breathe through a dripping nose.

"Stop your sniveling!" The Matron demanded, and cracked the leather back into the boy's discolored spine, "And stand up straight! Hands to the wall."

The boy let out another cry, and Margaret could feel her fists clench. This was by far the most uncomfortable thing she found about her job. Not even attending screaming, colicky babies could compare. Apparently she had come from a 'soft' family, but she didn't think that thrashing small children for mild infractions was in any way appropriate. Sure, they were quiet as mice, but it was a perverse silence.

It reminded her, uncomfortably, of huddling in a makeshift bomb shelter during the war, clutching her aunt's skirts in terror. Dozens of unwashed bodies were pushed together, but no one said a word, and a few had tried not to breathe in their anticipation. As if that extra bit of silence was necessary for their prayers to reach the Lord. As if that extra bit of silence would be enough to spare them in the air raid.

The quality of the silence in the orphanage was the same. Stilted with fear.

"Alright, Riddle. I hope that is enough to remind you to be on time for your prayers. This orphanage is not operating according to your time. You are just a troublesome pest I have to take care of until the Lord's decides to bless me with your disappearance. Am I understood?"

"Yes, M-Mrs. Cole."

The leather belt snapped threateningly. "What was that?"

"Yes, Mrs. Cole!"

The older woman sniffed in disdain. "Better. Maggie? Get the brat cleaned up. Then I want him dressed and ready for dinner."

Margaret frowned, but bowed her head towards the woman despite her dismay. "Of course, Mrs. Cole." Margaret and Tom both watched the Matron march away, and then the young woman turned to the small boy. "Come on, Tom. I can help you wash your back."

But he was already walking away. Margaret frowned, but didn't try to follow him. She was sure that even if she left, he would still show up washed and dressed for dinner. By now his dismissals were expected, but she still felt guilty enough to make an effort.

Daniel had received a similar punishment, however, and Margaret knew he had a much harder time handling the pain. She would try to track him down, and see if she could wrap his back.

It took fifteen long, painful minutes for Hermione to manage getting out of bed. The piercing ache in her muscles and joints made any attempt at mobility a kind of searing agony that sucked any motivation she had gathered the night before. The only reason she pushed through the pain, wrapped her emaciated body in four layers, and hobbled her way down the stairs was because she knew there was a very real possibility that she could waste away otherwise. Fear proved to be a decent incentive in the face of her depression.

Because she recognized that her time was running out.

It didn't surprise her to see Malfoy clutching his sides with a miserable expression when she finally reached the Great Hall. Hermione plopped herself down next to him, washed with a strong feeling of commiseration.

"Good morning," she asserted quietly into the space between them, as soon as she could catch her breath.

Malfoy glared, which drew on the deep purple shadows under his eyes and made him appear a bit mad. "What the bleedin' hell is wrong with you? Should it really hurt this much?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "My soul is shredding itself into pieces. Did you think it would be pleasant?"

He pouted, and Hermione felt her lips curl into a tired smile. She'd grown perversely fond of him in the past two weeks that they had spent working together. Perverse, because she wouldn't have expected to have such a patience for petulance in her agonized state. Maybe it was because he was sharing her pain, or because he had stopped the pre-war mean-spirited, bigoted commentary, but she found him oddly endearing.

He was still grumbling, "But Salazar, have you at least tried to take something for this? I must have gone through over a dozen pain and numbing potions. This morning alone. Before I realized that I'm experiencing your by-products, and it would be much more productive to attack it at the source."

Nott took a seat beside him before she could respond to his badly worded request, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He yawned out, "Is Draco still being a melodramatic ponce?"

Malfoy sneered balefully at his friend. "I swear to Merlin, Theo. You have no fucking idea how much this hurts."

Nott blinked slowly into awareness, his expression blank, and took time forming his response. "I don't. But I don't need to. Look how gracefully Hermione is handling it. Two weeks and I've heard nary a complaint."

Malfoy turned his sneer in her direction. "Just Gryffindor bravado. She probably thinks it's a show of strength and bravery to suffer in silence. She wouldn't want to lose face."

Harry rolled his eyes at the blonde as he came to sit beside her at the table. "Please, Malfoy. You care far more for your reputation than she does."

As usual, her best friend's hair was disheveled and his glasses slightly crooked. He looked especially unkept compared to the two soigne wizards lounging opposite them, who remained impeccably groomed despite their obvious fatigue. Although Harry smelled damp in a way that made her think he was freshly showered.

Malfoy fairly snarled, his eyes narrowed defensively, "That's what you think, Potter."

As soon as Hermione caught a glimpse of his canines, she realized she had to act. She bolstered herself for the strength it would take to scooch down the table a few feet, just far enough to grab the coffee pot. She did so with a grimace, then she doctored him a glass the way he liked it. The Malfoy heir received it with poor grace, but she knew from experience that fresh coffee was the fastest way to amend his terrible mood. He didn't handle pain well, and was absolutely not a morning person.

Then she made one for Nott and Harry, who were far more appreciative. "You're an angel," Harry asserted with a sloppy smile, waving a piece of bacon in her direction for emphasis. Hermione smiled back, the happiness at his show of support once again pushing back against the negative feelings forever bubbling under her skin. Even after two weeks had gone by, she was still so glad that he was there. That he cared.

Hermione had just made a cup of tea when she noticed Luna skipping to their table, leading Neville and a girl Hermione recognized as Hannah Abbott closely behind her. Luna had no problem gliding into the spot next to Nott, smiling dreamily at the boy as he slowly inched towards Malfoy on the bench in discomfort. Neville, rather more cautiously, sat down next to Hermione and gazed at their small collection of people with furrowed brows, as he had the last few times he sat with them.

But he said nothing of his bemusement. Instead he started preparing toast and asked Hermione nonchalantly, "I hear you are searching for potion ingredients."

Hannah reluctantly took a seat next to Neville, giving the two Slytherin boys a distrustful glance. She didn't touch the food, clenching her hands anxiously in front of her. Hermione wondered why she had tagged along if she felt so unsettled by being there. Then Neville reached out and gave the girl's hands a comforting squeeze, and Hermione realized they must be in some sort of relationship.

Interesting.

She looked back at Neville. "I am indeed." Not for the first time, Hermione wondered what Luna told him about her situation. He had showed up a week ago offering unconditional concern, aid, and support, and hadn't asked any questions.

Although, now that she thought about it, that was typical Neville behavior. Perhaps she had assumed that the experience of the recent war would change him as fundamentally as it had changed her. He certainly seemed more confident and assertive, but other than that? Still loyal, friendly, helpful. She had to admit that she found the consistency reassuring.

Neville had glanced over her appearance while she was wool-gathering, and the look of concern he sent her told Hermione that she should have spent at least a couple of minutes in front of a mirror this morning. It was apparently bad enough to encourage him to forego his bout of reticence. "I'm sure I can help with that. Luna said you're in trouble?"

Harry snorted into his mug of coffee and responded for her. "We're always in some sort of trouble."

Neville frown deepened and he opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a particularly loud owl screech. What followed was a flurry of activity as owls descended into the hall carrying the morning post. Everyone in their group except Harry received some sort of letter or newspaper. His exposure to unscrupulous reporters had understandably discouraged him from renewing his subscription, and not many people were aware that he had taken temporary leave to visit Hogwarts.

Hermione barely noticed the title of the front page, wanting to try to eat a piece of toast, but Hannah's gasp encouraged her to keep reading.

'Sinister Slytherin Evades Justice- Ministry Responsible'. The story was about Blaise Zabini, their fellow classmate, and detailed what had happened to him after the war. Or rather, what hadn't happened. The article carefully laid out all of the evidence submitted against him by the prosecution in his trial, the known signs of corruption and embezzlement committed by his uncle and the Dark Arts sympathies held by his mother. Then it detailed his actions at Hogwarts during that last year of the war, using flowery language to embellish his dark persona, highlighting the ease and enjoyment he got out of torturing his fellow peers. Especially the younger students, and the author was bold enough to suggest that there was a possibility of sexual abuse. And despite this seemingly treacherous behavior, he held no official conviction.

When she spotted Rita's name at the end of the page, Hermione couldn't help but hiss in displeasure. It was nothing but sensationalist tripe, she was sure. If the court had been able to verify any hint of sexual abuse, he would currently be in Azkaban. The rest of these accusations were founded on the principle that he was guilty by association, which was nothing but speculation and certainly not grounds for incarceration.

She was still angry as she threw the paper down at the table, faintly growling. And then noticed that just about everyone else at the table was doing the same. Hannah was so upset she was shaking, and ended up gripping the ends of table tightly as she stared hatefully at the two Slytherins at the table.

Who were too engrossed in scowling at the paper to notice. Hermione passed the paper to Harry after he gestured for her to hand it over.

Neville was frowning deeply, his face pale, and Hermione assumed it was because he shared Hannah's sentiments. Until he looked around the table and stated, "These are lies. Zabini might have been a prat, but he didn't enjoy it. Almost no one did. It's why the Carrows eventually insisted on overseeing all of the detentions." Hermione saw Malfoy and Nott nod in affirmation of Zabini's character assessment.

Hannah shot her boyfriend a wounded expression. The resolute tone of her voice illustrated the strength of her conviction. "Yes, they did. All of those Slytherins got some kind of sick enjoyment from it. Rejoicing that the muggleborns were locked in Azkaban, that the Gryffindor firsties were so hurt and so scared they kept wetting the bed. They enjoyed having power over us."

Malfoy looked sick and tense, and appeared unable to speak. Nott frowned at her in his stead. "We never wanted anyone to get tortured. We didn't want anyone to die."

Hannah's sneer was almost a perfect imitation of Malfoy's, and it looked disturbing out of place on her cherubic face. "How else did you expect to achieve Pureblood superiority?" She spat those two words in a facetious display that did little to hide her contempt.

Malfoy choked out a response in a hoarse voice. Sounding as if his memories were literally strangling him. "We thought they would leave. That the Muggleborns would go back to the muggle world, and that would be that."

Hannah responded with a vitriol that Hermione had never seen in a Hufflepuff. "And you though they would listen if you, what, asked nicely?"

Luna spoke up, her lofty voice settling smoothly in between the individual pockets of rage. "They were children, relying on the teachings and promises of their parents. I doubted they planned to accomplish anything personally."

Hannah turned on the girl. "Do not speak in their defense. It was not their parents who spent the year casting Unforgiveables on their classmates. For doing next to nothing!"

Hermione wondered if Harry felt just as uncomfortable as she did, forced to abstractly sympathize and wonder what her peers had experienced while they were both wayfaring the countryside. To feel both glad to have avoided the experience and bereft at having missed the opportunity to protect those that needed it. It was an incredibly awkward feeling.

Luna addressed the Hufflepuff's claims, looking at Nott as she did so. "There were some Slytherins that refused. That ended up being tortured in their place." The look on Luna's face as she looked at the Slytherin gave Hermione the impression that Theodore was part of those some.

Hannah's lips thinned. "Not everyone was so fortunate." The way she curled into herself made it obvious that her grievances were personal, and her trauma embedded. She turned to Malfoy to lash out. "I have to say, I'm surprised you were shameless enough to show up to take the exams."

Malfoy shrugged, his expression tortured, and Hannah threw herself off the bench in aggravation and fairly stomped away.

Harry looked at the Slytherins curiously, looking strangely detached. "You couldn't have been completely ignorant about what would happen. I mean, your parents participated in the war. You must have heard about that."

Malfoy apparently had an easier time addressing Harry's pragmaticism than Hannah's righteous fury. "Our fathers were not that enthusiastic about the Dark Lord's revival. Malfoys are not naturally subservient."

Nott snorted into his mug of cooled coffee. He cast a quick, wandless spell to heat the drink as he muttered, "Speak for yourself. My father was… certainly enthused."

"Not nearly as ecstatic as my aunt," Malfoy muttered darkly.

They shared a pained look.

Then Nott frowned in a way that was calculative, if disturbed. "But why would they print this? Zabini's situation is shared by dozens of Slytherins. They are basically suggesting everyone is equally culpable, which neutral Slytherin families won't take lying down. They have to be expecting a reprisal."

Hermione brows furrowed considering the implications of Nott's statement, and the antagonizing behavior of the media thus far. "And the article implied the Ministry was at fault. Which is undermining the government's attempt to authorize stability and legitimacy."

Neville was looking at the empty seat beside him with a frown, deep in thought. "This article was meant to provoke. To bring up remembered hurts and make people angry. Make people afraid."

Harry easily picked up on their train of thought. This rhetoric was used extensively in the recent war after all. "And people who are afraid are not always the wisest. Or the most trusting."

Hermione's hands twitched out of the urge to draft and organize her thoughts, which sent tendrils of pain down her arms. She ignored it with an irritated huff. "But who would have something to gain by stirring malcontent? Who wants to alienate the Ministry? This kind of chaos doesn't really serve either side."

Harry snorted and stated blithely, "Unless you believe those articles about the Death Eater Revolution. And it would serve the fugitives to destabilize the authority responsible for sentencing them."

Malfoy scoffed at the boy across from him in disdain, his mug of coffee still lingering next to his tired face. "The number of missing Death Eaters stated in the papers is grossly exaggerated. Most of the names mentioned are actually dead. Families took the opportunity to privately bury bodies at their family estates shortly after the battle. And I doubt those that are left really have the means to present a cohesive, coordinated front."

Harry couldn't seem to resist needling his long-time foe. Or perhaps this was lingering paranoia from the war that taught him to consider the improbable. "But it's not impossible?"

Malfoy dismissed him with an eye-roll and reached for the marmalade.

Hermione observed both Slytherin boys, noting how lines of stress from their conversation had deepened the premature lines of fatigue on their faces. She herself had taken to rubbing the polished wood grain on the edge of the table with her thumb in some instinctive attempt to self-sooth. "Then who do you think it could be?"

Nott's face crumpled. "It could be anyone. This war infuriated a lot of people. The werewolves, the vampires, the giants, the goblins, the Muggleborns…"

Hermione felt strangely disturbed that Muggleborns were considered troubled enough to invoke this manner of sabotage (because she could easily see Theo's angle- for incarcerated or tortured Muggleborns who had decided to forsake the magical world, destroying it from the inside out would certainly hold a sort of appeal). It almost felt like an act of betrayal, considering all that she had sacrificed in the war to ensure Muggleborns still had a place.

"Shouldn't the Ministry be handling all of that? Perhaps the newly elected Minister is not adequately handling his duties?" Malfoy implied with a familiar drawl to his voice. One Hermione realized she hadn't heard since their fifth year.

It was Theodore who defended the new administration, which clearly surprised an indignant Harry, who had his mouth open and body wired, ready to defend his friend. "It takes time and resources to adequately see to all of those grievances, Draco, which is not exactly something the Ministry has in great supply. Do you remember the discussion we recently had with Daphne's father? We're currently in a recession. Several of our biggest suppliers of international imports stopped trade because the Dark Lord made the Ministry of Magic appear too obviously unstable and corrupt, which has halted the production of manufactured potions and enchanted objects. And all of the structural damage to buildings in commercial areas and lack of foot traffic during the war encouraged businesses to either close down or leave the country. The unemployment rate is the highest it has ever been, but the Ministry lacks the funds to support businesses because of the embezzlement that took place during the war. That's part of the reason why the trials happened so quickly after the war ended; the Wizengamot was eager to convict Pureblooded scions so they would have the legal right to demand monetary compensation."

Malfoy's concerned frown was a perfect echo of Neville's expression as he tapped the table in an uncharacteristic display of restlessness. "But who did they actually manage to convict? From what I heard, not many."

"The Goyles, the Carrows, Rookwood, Baxter, and Macnair. They tried to convict Dolohov, but apparently Russia is attempting to claim him. Last I heard they were still in litigation."

"None of them are particularly wealthy," Malfoy noted drily.

Nott matched his tone. "No, they are not."

Hermione spoke up, remembering a conversation she had with Bill shortly after the war. "I heard that the Ministry attempted to broker a deal with Gringotts after the war to reclaim the Lestrange vault. But the goblins refused, stating that they had enough bad publicity following the incident with the dragon, and that abiding to their request would generate further distrust with their clientele. Which struck me as odd, because Gringotts has a monopoly over the control of wealth for all of Wizarding Great Britain. It's not as if they are worried about families turning over to a competitor."

Neville turned and gave her an indulgent smile, one her parents had given her as a small child asking about something they considered beyond her comprehension. It rattled now as much as it had then, and Hermione was uncomfortably reminded that racism was embedded but present, even for those who do not commit acts of extremism. "Goblins are extremely spiteful creatures. They probably just refused because they didn't want to be seen cooperating with wizards."

Hermione chose not to take offense. At the insult of her assumed ignorance, at his negatively biased opinion of goblins, and at his use of the word wizard rather than human.

Nott spoke up then, after tidily swallowing a forkful of eggs. "Well, not entirely. Some of the oldest estates have their own vaults in their family estates, but their use decreased in popularity several centuries ago for security reasons. The Goblin's offered an affordable and convenient alternative."

She shot Theodore a thankful glance. "So, you think there could be legitimate reasons for their concerns?"

He raised a curious eyebrow at her expression. "Perhaps. Some of the more unpopular families may move some of their wealth regardless simply to disappear from the public eye. But knowing that the goblins could be moved to allow the government to liquidate assets on the whims of a changing political climate would certainly generate distrust towards the bank."

Harry was again defensive. "Kingsley isn't acting on a whim. He's attempting to finance solutions."

Nott's gaze was dark and intense. "But why the Lestrange's vault? Why not Macmillan? Ernie didn't survive the battle either, and he was the last of his House."

"Perhaps he saw it fitting considering how much death and damage was caused at the hands of the Lestranges?"

Theo raised his palms in a placating gesture. "You think the Dark Lord didn't attempt to empty the account of individuals in the Order during the war? That's all I'm saying. If the goblins changed their stance now, they wouldn't be considered politically neutral. Which would generate distrust."

Everyone seemed to unhappily agree to that, and a few minutes of Luna's happy humming as everyone else chewed and swallowed their breakfast followed. Until Hermione broke the pause in conversation to address a thought that wouldn't stop niggling in the back of her mind. "So, the Ministry's only current method of replenishing funds would be through increased taxation," she ventured.

The three Pureblooded males at the table nodded. Harry took his glasses off and started worrying the bridge of his nose with his index finger. He responded with a tone of tired pessimism, "But if people aren't working, they won't be able to pay more taxes."

Nott agreed with the shake of his head. "Which is why the Minister has been so hesitant to bow to the whims of the Wizengamot. Although if they secure enough of a majority, it is only a manner of time. And when people don't pay, there will be conflict." Everyone seemed to understand that if this passed the Minister would lose his place in office, but that hardly mattered. Ministers were easily replaced, and their legislation would remain secure because seats at the Wizengamot were guaranteed for a lifetime and not impacted by public opinion. They would do whatever they felt was necessary, and there were no legal ways to combat their attempts.

Malfoy nodded around his second cup of coffee. "Which will incite violence if enough discontent is instigated by inflammatory journalists." Especially considering the populace of Wizarding Great Britain at the moment were traumatized families wary of authority and experienced in combat. A perceived loss of civil liberties would not be taken lightly.

Hermione pursed her lips in worry. "Which will lead to fines and incarceration. And generate more unrest. But don't you all have seats? Shouldn't we have the power to fight back?"

Both Slytherins shook their heads, and Theodore spoke up. "According to recent legislation, we won't have access to our seats until we are no longer on probation. Which is an estimated five years, reconsidered annually after evaluations are conducted scrutinizing our behavior."

Harry just shrugged, obviously ignorant about the potential power he might have as a Wizengamot attendee. Hermione was entirely certain that this ignorance was purposeful, and made a mental note to give Harry a relevant text that might make him more aware of his duties as the Potter heir.

"Well, perhaps instead of taxation they could economize the Ministry? Downsize departments that are not crucial for running the country, and implement employee practices that increase efficiency and eliminate waste."

Malfoy raised at an eyebrow skeptically at her statement, which Hermione found odd- her suggestion was surely logically considered. But his tone was sardonic. "And which departments do you consider unimportant, Granger? The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad? The Improper Use of Magic Office? The Department of International Magical Cooperation? Or perhaps the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

Hermione is a very intelligent girl- certainly bright enough to understand the slight. "I am not suggesting that any of the departments are superfluous; they all have an important function. I'm merely suggesting that things could be done more efficiently the eliminate unnecessary expenditures."

Harry was shaking his head. "But doesn't downsizing using mean lay-offs? Which would only make the unemployment problem worse."

Hermione sighed. "Yes, but something needs to give."

Another few minutes of silence tempered the mood of the table. It was an oddly helpless feeling- that moment before a conflict. When you know the direction of a situation, and you realize bloodshed could be coming. Where you understand that now is the time to act, now is the opportunity to make a difference before everything goes to shit, but the odds seem unsurmountable when you see all of the problems and know that you are just one person.

And what is the capability of one person against larger processes like international trade and governance according to a parliamentary system?

As they were getting up to leave, Hermione scribbled down a list of potion ingredients and the amount needed on a spare bit of parchment. The plants that had rotted under broken stasis charms in Slughorn's private supply closets and needed to be replaced. "We're brewing in the empty classroom across from Transfiguration. Meet us there after lunch?"

He gave her a somber nod, and walked off in a determined fashion.

Harry helped her stand, and Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from crying out against the pain. She shuffled forward out of the Great Hall slowly.

Soon. They were almost prepared.

Hermione peered around the dusty classroom, cluttered in a kind of organized chaos, as she waited for Neville to arrive. The state of the room wasn't preferable- Hermione operated best when everything was neat and organized. This neurotic need to compartmentalize was not necessarily a reflection of her mind, which seemed to be everyone's assumption, but because there were so many thoughts and ideas constantly buzzing through her head that she needed order to more efficiently reign in the chaos.

But this was harder to do with group work. And while Malfoy displayed a similar tendency to meticulously organize his supplies and texts (Hermione suspected that the obsessive-compulsive manner he did so was, actually, a reflection of his internal tendencies) and Nott was notably neat, Harry had no natural inclination towards organization and Luna's method of classification was so beyond convention as to see counter-intuitive at times. Their compromise was the resulting organized chaos, which bordered the line just enough to irritate everyone in their party.

Still, at least the general subjects were divided. The southeast corner was devoted to the veil, and any allusion made in relevant texts about traversing gateways of death. It was through this research that Hermione discovered that Nott was an avid fan of Norse mythology and the Italian writer Dante Alighieri. He seemed to savor pointing out relevant passages of the Divine Comedy, and Norse texts like Gesta Danorum. Based off of his interpretation of The Saga of Olaf the Holy, he even argued that souls could be experiencing multiple fates simultaneously. While Hermione could appreciate the depth of his knowledge and the interest in this perspective, she rather hoped Riddle could be retrieved from one place.

The southwest corner was devoted to restorative draughts and relevant potions. Two cauldrons were pushed up against the wall and bubbling merrily above a makeshift burner. More books were stacked haphazardly on the floor, bits of parchment sticking out oddly that highlighted pertinent paragraphs. One potion was supposedly useful for repairing souls that had been damaged after long exposure to Dark magic, while the other was a more advanced version of a Pepper-Up Potion. A list of additional potions that may be considered useful was on a desk next to the cauldrons, as well as a list of necessary ingredients.

The northwest corner of the room was devoted to binding. There were lines of books pertaining to soulmate bonds as well as archaic and modern binding rituals. The Nott, Malfoy, and Black libraries had been overturned finding relevant documents, and a haphazard collection of notes filled with their various handwriting styles detailed pages of ideas about how best to restrain Riddle's power and control his behavior.

This topic bore heavy discussion. Both Malfoy and Nott were adamant that Riddle's magic should be bound. But Luna pointed out that, as a muggle, it is unlikely he and Hermione will be able to leave through the veil located in the Department of Mysteries. They also did not know enough to establish how binding his magic could affect Hermione's state.

Harry thought the best way to curb his psychotic, homicidal tendencies was to ensure he felt emotions other than anger, jealousy, and fear.

Malfoy had rolled his eyes at the boy, and his 'Gryffindor sentimentalities'. "I suppose you mean love? You forget, Potter, love can't be manufactured magically."

Harry shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. I just want him to be capable of it."

Malfoy's face scrunched up in confusion. "I get that Riddle was a psychotic bastard, but why wouldn't he be capable of love?"

Harry shrugged, and absentmindedly pushed his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. "Just something Dumbledore said. That because Tom was conceived under the influence of a love potion, he is incapable of love."

Malfoy openly scoffed, and paused in his potion prep long enough to give Harry an incredulous stare. "And you believed that bit of rubbish? Plenty of people have been conceived under the influence of love or lust potions, and you don't see them all turning into Dark Lords. I assure you, if it were true, love potions would be more heavily regulated."

Harry frowned, then turned and looked towards Hermione for confirmation. She nodded wearily. "He's right, Harry. I looked at the literature after you told me of Dumbledore's reasoning, and I couldn't find anything to back up his theory. I suspect he was just trying to further dehumanize and vilify Riddle, so you would be less likely to pity or relate to him because of his unfortunate upbringing."

Harry looked rather adorably confused, his hair perpetually sleep-tousled and his eyes tired. "Then why did he do the things he did? Why did he treat his followers so badly?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the picture he made. And then she went on to elaborate, "I suspect he had Antisocial Personality Disorder. It's a mental condition and would explain his lack of regard for moral reasoning, as well as his tendency to antagonize and manipulate the people around him. And his utter lack of remorse."

"Right. So, he was… ill?"

Hermione frowned at the term. "He was definitely mentally unwell, which could have been the result of his treatment as a child. But I'm not sure ill is quite the right word for it. Because as far as I know, there isn't much to treat it."

Nott looked up from his books with a curious wrinkle lining his forehead. "Is that a muggle idea?"

Hermione nodded. "Muggles have done a lot of studies in order to try and understand the workings of the human mind. As well as categorize any potential disorders so people can be treated."

Nott was about to say something, but Harry interrupted him. "But aren't people with that disorder incapable of love?"

She frowned as she carefully considered her response. "I suppose that they technically are. From what I've read, I gathered that sociopaths can make people believe they are in love. But they may be incapable of true tenderness or affection. I think most relationships end with the sociopath becoming controlling and abusive."

All three men in the room frowned. Malfoy again looked up from dissecting spleens in order to give her a concerned look. "Is that something you are prepared to deal with?"

Hermione gave a self-deprecated snort. "It's either that, or suffer a damned eternity."

Luna looked up at them all from her place in an oddly positioned high-backed armchair, a large tome covering the entirety of her lap. Her head was tilted in thought, and her eyes seemed overly large behind her lovely long blonde hair. "It's difficult for people who have never been shown love to know when it happens. And it can be frightening for individuals who value self-control to find themselves in emotional chaos. They may need to reject these feelings of dependence and vulnerability in order to feel safe."

Hermione considered the girl. "So you believe sociopaths are capable of love? But wouldn't that require some degree of empathy?"

Luna shrugged. "They wouldn't be able to fake empathy so well if they didn't have some understanding of how it felt. You've all seen Robert Newberry, right? That Muggleborn Ravenclaw that tells everyone he is autistic? People tell me he has problems with emotions because his smiles seem awkward."

Harry nodded at his blonde friend in agreement and sent Hermione a penetrating glance. "So what Hermione needs is a way to share emotions with Tom. So she can gauge how he is actually feeling."

Nott was nodding too. "That may not be a bad idea. She could also use it to circumvent tantrums when he is in a mood."

Hermione gave Nott a look. "He still has tantrums?"

All three boys gave her rather enthusiastic nods.

"How old is he again?"

Nott shrugged. "Old enough to know better, but he is rather impulsive."

Hermione nodded in understanding. That was another hallmark of antisocial personality disorder. Arrogance, impulsivity, an inclination towards criminal behavior, violence. An inability to plan ahead and learn from negative consequences. She certainly had her work cut out for her.

"Alright, well has anyone read a binding ritual that may include emotions?"

Nott jumped up from his place on the leather armchair, and zipped towards a text. His fingers quickly separated pages as he searched for the one he wanted from a very old looking tome. He found it and nodded to himself, before presenting the ritual to their small collective.

"This one should work. The Anima Vinctum ritual. It has fallen out of use since the sixteenth century because the degree of bonding was deemed excessive after the creation of some of the more modern binding rituals. In many ways it mimics a Veela mating ritual, in which physical markers are created that reinforce the strength of a bond, and emotions are magically encouraged that prompt the bonded to make each other happy. It doesn't really detail how. But some of the documented side affects include a shared awareness of moods and emotions."

Hermione walked over to him and peered at the text over his shoulder. "A marriage bonding ritual?"

Nott shrugged. "It's not as if you would ever be able to marry anyone else."

Hermione frowned at his nonchalance of her misfortune. "But I thought the ritual needed to be specific for binding soulmates? How else will we be able to repair our souls?"

Malfoy slowly shook his head at her. "There aren't really many rituals specifically for the soul-bonded, Granger. In most cases, a binding ritual that contains some element of soul or magic exchange is enough to instigate soul healing."

"Then this could work."

He shrugged. "It's the best we have for the moment. But I still don't think sharing emotions is going to be enough to curb his tendency to murder the people around him."

"You would imagine that with a soul completely intact, he might be a bit more reasonable and a bit less bloodthirsty."

Again, the blonde man shrugged. "It's possible. None of us have every interacted with a Riddle that was in complete possession of his soul."

Nott spoke up, still reading the passage. "I agree that Riddle needs something besides emotions to reign him in. But this ritual might compensate for that. Apparently committing any act that might put the soul of your bonded in jeopardy has very severe consequences. The text isn't explicit, but hints at a magical pain severe enough to paralyze."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes as another pulse of agony shot up her spine. "Well, that's something."

Further research about the ritual made an additional pile in that corner, and later revealed that it also had the added benefit of protecting her from harm against him, as any other kind of serious injury towards her would result in a rather unpleasant magical backlash (she assumed that meant no physical or emotional abuse). Hermione wanted all the advantages she could get. While they had debated the merits of incorporating multiple binding rituals together to further limit Riddle's potential, they were hesitant to experiment without any documentation of how these ritual magicks interacted with each other.

They were almost done. As soon as Neville arrived, they could create the last batch of potions, and hopefully she would be fit and ready to enter the veil in a matter of days. Considering how much pain she was currently in, she had doubts she could last. But inspired and supported by the people around her, she also refused to back down without a fight.

To be continued.