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CHAPTER IV

The Witch, The Beast and the Sorting Hat

Tom carefully studied the young woman walking beside him in silence. Her hair was starting to dry and seemed to grow bigger and bigger as the time passed, the curls twirling back on themselves as if they had life of their own. Her gaze was focused right in front of her and her hands shrivelled in tight fists.

He had been wrong. The woman and the stone were not perfectly merged. Which actually meant that the girl had not merely been a sacrifice used by the stone to access to fuller capacities. It meant that the girl had actually been chosen by the hallow, and that the artefact had not replaced her, but was only living in her. It was not using her, it was growing roots in her, deep, deep roots to...to what ? Make itself more powerful ? Act in this world ? No...

The resurrection stone was surely the less interested hallow in worldly buisness. But all the same the most twisted one. It fed on the desire of men for it, for life, and their despair in front of death. It offered the impossible dream of immortality but had never given it to any wizard in all the history of its creation. It rejoiced at seeing hands reaching out for her, to grasp her, and then inevitably falling into madness and death.

No man had ever conquered it, or was its master for a very long time. Yet it still searched for one. His hands twitched with desire. He would conquer it and conquer death with it. But how...Why would such a cruel artefact choose a young lady with an actual moral sense ? One who would prefer death over being used for works of darkness ?

Why indeed...The young man thought quietly all the while observing the figure beside him. The girl seemed to have free will. Even now she was only following him because she knew she could not overpower him. He knew it. She knew it too. She bore the weight of his gaze as if it was shackles. If he gave her one more occasion to flight, she would. They both knew it too.

But even if she ran away again, the day he would let her go would never rise. For he had finally found it. Life. Immortality. His dream of forever all wrapped up in the human body of a woman. His hand itched to touch it. To touch eternity, touch life. He slowed down his pace, now walking slightly behind her and took a deep breath.

He could smell it. Life. She smelled like a day of summer in the countryside. When everything was awaken and buzzed with energy, tiring themselves out to finally fall asleep with the autumn. She smelled like everything and nothing. Warm and fresh, like wet grass and burning wood at the same time. She smelled like a charm, enticing, bearing no known flavor, describable with no words, but enchanting just the same. She smelled like a newborn child, untainted, innocent, good and pure.

His hands itched and quivered. He wanted it.

§§§

"Something is troubling you, My Lord ?" said Acturus Black, making Tom turn his pensive gaze to him.

Acturus Black had always been a particular fellow. The Black's veil of madness was never too far from him, even if he carefully conciled it by his poised and elegant front. He was the incarnation of a Slytherin, always ready to change his skin for his interest, and if he was a cunning and intelligent fellow, Tom had always known that his loyalty was more attached to their cause than to his person.

At least until it was known that he was the legitimate master of the stone. The unsaid promise of a protection against death and the hope for immortality could do marvels in acquiring the lukewarms' faithfullness. And this made him a very interesting interlocutor, for if trust was something never talked about and even less practiced in the house of Slytherins and even more between them, he was still a very good conversationalist, insightfull and so full of his person that he never hesitated to make his point known.

"The stone seems to be as much of a woman as she is a hallow if not more. Even if they have very much merged, the woman still have her free will and a very...surprising personnality to say the least." he slowly answered, his piercing dark eyes fixing themselves on the figure of the other wizard, waiting, testing.

"Surprising ? How so, My Lord ?"

"Good. Very much so. Prone to compassion and attached to good things as well. To the point of sacrificing herself for them."

The young Black furrowed his brows. That was effectively surprising. For such a twisted and cruel hallow to choose a...good person, wholesome and morally inclined, as his receptacle. So, was it that they didn't really know the hallow ? Was it that the stone had its own twisted senses of morals and was not as cruel as they thought ? Was the hallow much more complicated than they had thought ?

Black straightened himself, flattening the crease of his obviously expensive jacket. "If you would permit myself these words my Lord, I would dare to say that this may be more auspicious than complicated."

"Permission granted. Continue."

"Hallows can be owned...but beside the invisible cape, time has proven how fleeting their loyalty to their master was. But a woman, my Lord...A woman can always be seduced. And a good woman's heart is always open for compassion, attachment and, dare I suggest, devotion."

Sowly Tom raised his head from his fist, looking at Black with an intense and unshifting gaze. A long moment of silence passed before the lips of the Slytherin's prefect turned into an amused smile.

"What a dangerous game to play, Mr. Black."

"But a most pleasing one, My Lord, isn't it ?"

§§§

They both knew that she would try again when she took her chance. As soon as she had the occasion, as soon as he left her to the safety and the guard of others Slytherins, she ran. Quite literally. She ran through corridors toward the only place where she knew she could have true answers. The Chambers. The Beast domain. How sad that the snake was the only one she felt she could trust.

The entrance she made herself in the toilet was still open from the last night and she jumped into it as soon as she saw it, letting herself go down and crush on the cold ground.

I was waiting for you, little hallow.

Hermione rose from her postition and her eyes fell in the well-known poisonous gaze. The great snake was already out, coiled around itself, the big head raised as if it straightened itself at her arrival.

"You knew that I would come back." she stated more than she asked.

Of course, I did. You are just a little hatchling, learning to crawl its way into this world. You are afraid and vulnerable without knowledge. And desperate enough that you would accept it from a creature like me.

"Do you know a way for me to escape ? Escape him ?"

You cannot. You know that you cannot. The sun as only one burning eye, but it is enough for him to watch the entire earth.

"Then what ? Should I just burn under him ? Should I just be used ? No...No..."

How sad...whispersed the creature while surrounding her. I am the only one here to listen to you, to know you, to help you...And I will help you. I will.

Her voice broke as she asked. "Why ?"

Because you come, and he does not. I am an old and crafty king you know, and I know ways to crawl around the oath I made to him. I wouldn't be betraying my master by helping you, for I won't be giving you advices or informations...For all you know you can come and see me and I will just be telling you stories and riddles. What you learn of it is your buisness and your own.

But why take the risk to help her ? Did the creature wanted revenge ? No...It wouldn't turn against his master and Hermione knew that she couldn't trust it fully. But what she could trust was its resentment, its anger at being abandonned once again. She doubted that the snake feelings had been hurt, it was a cold-blood after all, but his pride surely was. She covered the stone on her wirst with her other hand. She did seem to attract vain things...

"Then I want to listen your stories."

Of course you do, cooed the creature in her mind, if you do not, you too will be another dusty heirloom, locked up in a chest, for the master enjoys the silent ownership of his forgotten legends and tresors. What they did to me, why wouldn't they do it you ?

Locked up...Hermione's eyes widened and her hands started to shake as she looked at the snake. Why indeed wouldn't she be locked up in dungeons too ? Kept and safely enclosed so that no one would search for her, or even know that there was a stone to steal. He could do it. Not in the school grounds, but Hogwarts wouldn't protect her for long and a year passed with a blink of eyes...And the stone wouldn't be bothered by this, now would it ? Safe, kept, cherished...Unless...The stone pulsed on her arm, and the witch understood. Kept, Safe, but not cherished, just owned and most importantly, forgotten. Of course the narcissistic thing wouldn't permit it.

"And is there a story about what we can do to escape this fate ?"

Men are all weak, dear hallow. And this is why while he is still a man, you can change your fate.

While he is still a man ? Understanding shone in her eyes. Yes, of course. While he is still a man, before all the horcruxes are made, before he become souless, nameless...

"How much time do I have ?"

This depends on you performance, dear child. The moon attracts the sun. All day he watch the earth, all night he searches for her, roaming the sky, but never does he close his eye. If there is no moon, the sun will watch the earth day and night, and finish by burning it.

So the story started...She understood very well that Riddle was the Sun. But the moon ? Her eyes fell on the stone, shining with its misty, nocturnal glow. The moon...The stone was the moon. He would follow it and search for it through the night.

"So the moon saves the earth from burning by compelling the sun to follow her at night...doesn't she ? "

An amused gleam appeared in the poisonous gaze and the creature squinted its eyes in a catlike manner, before continuing, raising its head.

The moon is a crafty one, isn't she ? For it is only because of the light she receives from the sun that she shines. But no one knows, she surrounds herself with darkness and mysteries as a veil and the arrogant sun doesn't know that what he wants so bad is only a reflection of his own light, of his own desire.

What did it mean ? The witch furrowed her brows as she thought. A reflection of his desire, the light...Life ? What he desired...was life. But he was still alive. How could she gave him what he already have ? Eternal life ? But how ?

"Isn't it similar to the story of Narcissus, then ? He too fell in love with a reflection of his beauty, of his desire, thinking it was another."

Yes...Because he was bewitched, then made mad by his own desire.

"Should the sun be mad with desire too ?"

Why else would he spend his nights searching for her ? He didn't know he was lonely until he learned what it meant to share the sky. Didn't know desire until she escaped from his grasp, and didn't even saw his own light until he met his reflection in her...

"But what if...one night...the sun caught the moon ?"

Isn't that a new moon, child ? A new moon is when the sky is silent and the world in peace...

§§§

"Miss Rowle ! Your brother was searching for you everywhere !"

Hermione slowly lifted her eyes to encounter the Slughorn's scolding one.

"Why would he ?" she slowly asked.

"Why would...Why wouldn't he, you mean, young lady ? He is your guardian, young lady, and it is time for your sorting."

Guardian ? A dry smile lifted her lips. She had almost forget in what period she went in. As she followed the professor in the corridor, his rantings surrounding her, she felt her eyes anxiously following the progression of the moon in the sky at each windows they passed. Her heart thundered in her chest as she saw the sun immediately starting to lay down, searching for her as she rose. Her hand tightened in a fist as relief fell over her. A quarter...It was not the New Moon. Not yet. He hadn't caught her.

"Miss Rowle ?"

"Yes ?" the witch answered hastily.

"We're here. Mr Dippet's office is behind this statue. Do you have any apprehension for your sorting ?"

She looked at him for a long moment, before walking toward the statue, preferring to keep her voice and her apprehensions for herself.

The office was different than she remembered it. Less lively, and much more luxurious. The portraits on the whole were present in an inferior number, but in a much bigger size. Sitted in a big armchair was the Professor Dippet, surrounded by a mass of professors and two students. She recognized Damocles Rowle with his large frame, messy blond hair and savage gaze and of course...him.

Riddle...The Sun. And that he was. Even as he was standing close to the headmaster, it seemed that all eyes were fixed on him only as he talked in a soothing and melodious voice, his hair falling into waves around his perfect face, and his charming smile just in place.

As she entered the discussion stopped and they all turned to see her. Him first of course. His gaze burned her. She looked through the window quickly. The sun had set. His hunt had started...

"-oach, Miss Rowle."

"Excuse me ?" she asked as she forced her gaze from the window.

"Well, I said, please, approach, Miss Rowle."said the Professor Dippet, with an indulgent smile that seemed made to soothe emotional young pureblood ladies.

Hermione gaze fell on the hat waiting for her on the wooden chair at the center of the room. The chair was cushioned with red velvet, and she asked herself again if she would have received this treatment with a different name.

"Should I just put it on ?" she calmly asked while looking at the worn, black hat.

The Professor Dippet seemed to be surprised by her straightforward speech and didn't answer immediately, before simply giving a single nod. Before he could ask for someone to help her the witch sat and put the pointy hat over her head, feeling it cover her eyes as the long-forgotten and rusty voice reasonnated in her head for the second time.

Well, well, well...Who are you to come and visit me, dear one ?

She furrowed her brows. Shouldn't the sorting hat know who she was ? Shouldn't he be able to read her mind as well as her heart ?

How could I read them when they are both the most messy place I have ever been, child ? My mission is to reveal your true self. But it seems like you haven't made peace with yourself enough to enlighten my path in your head. So let me repeat it, Miss ? Who are you ? Are you the little Hermione Granger ? Or perhaps should I just call you hallow for that is what lives in you ? Or...Could you be the moon of this dangerous sky ?

He knew...Of course, he knew. This old thing had enough practice at reading thoughts that he could even decipher her confused ones. Who is she, he asked ? The answer was obvious ! She was...She was... Who was she ? The stone burned on her arm, and she felt light-headed as the memories of a hissing sang in her heart. She was...All of them.

Now, now...What an imprudent thing to think. Hermione Granger is without a doubt a Gryffindor. But the stone belongs to the heirs Slytherin for now more than five hundred years.

But what was the moon ?

Careful, Miss Granger.

She couldn't be.

Are you sure ?

Where did the moon go ?

Where the sun follows..."Slytherin !"

To be continued...

Next chapter, the dangerous game start...Let me know what you think !