Timeless Magic(Tomione Fanfic) Under Revision

Chapter 3: Hogwarts

1943

Tom Riddle briskly made his way toward Professor Slughorn's office, his thoughts consumed by the unexpected arrival of a new student. He hadn't been informed of the newcomer's background, but judging by Professor Slughorn's demeanor, he surmised the student must be someone of considerable importance—perhaps a pureblood from a prominent family. If so, Tom saw an opportunity to leverage the newcomer's status to his advantage.

"Professor?" Tom called out as he reached the door, announcing his presence before entering.

"Come in, Tom," Slughorn replied, adjusting his tie with a practiced hand as Tom took a seat.

"It seems this student has quite the reputation, Professor," Tom observed, his curiosity piqued.

"Yes, indeed. You see, that child is a Picquery. She's Seraphina Picquery's daughter," Slughorn revealed, confirming Tom's suspicions about the student's esteemed lineage.

"Tom, my boy, I'd like you to show her around the school, and engage her in friendly conversation. She's been homeschooled her entire life, so she'll need some guidance on our school's traditions, rules, and policies—especially coming from a prefect such as yourself," Slughorn instructed, his tone expectant.

Internally, Tom felt a surge of annoyance at being assigned the task of babysitting a privileged student. He harbored a disdain for those who flaunted their status without merit, viewing them as undeserving of their acclaim. Nevertheless, he maintained a composed facade, masking his true feelings as he prepared to fulfill his duties as a prefect.

"As you wish, Professor," Tom replied respectfully to Slughorn's instructions before taking his leave. As he strode through the hallway, his thoughts drifted to a chance encounter with a familiar figure—a young boy with blond hair and piercing blue eyes: Archon Malfoy. An idea began to form in Tom's mind, sparked by a conversation he had once shared with Archon.

Recalling snippets of their discussion, Tom remembered Archon mentioning his family's failed attempt to arrange a marriage proposal with the Picquery lineage—an overture that had been rebuffed. Sensing an opportunity, Tom resolved to capitalize on this information. By fostering a connection between Archon and the Picquery family, he could potentially leverage it to his advantage in the future.

"Tom?" Archon called out from his seat near the fireplace, his curiosity piqued by Tom's sudden appearance.

"I have an offer for you," Tom declared as he settled into a chair opposite Archon.

"What kind of offer?" Archon inquired, idly twirling his wand between his fingers.

"Do you recall mentioning to me about your family's attempt to arrange a marriage proposal with the Picquery family?" Tom asked, studying Archon's reaction closely.

"Yes, I do, Tom," Archon confirmed, his interest piqued but wary of where the conversation was leading.

"What if I told you I could help you with that?" Tom proposed, a glint of intrigue flickering in his eyes, leaving Archon surprised and intrigued by the unexpected proposition.

Archon regarded Tom with a mixture of confusion and skepticism. His family had persistently pursued a marriage alliance with the Picquery lineage, only to be met with repeated rejections. Despite receiving numerous proposals from other pureblood families, Archon's father remained convinced that a union with the Picquery family would yield the greatest benefits, despite their status as blood traitors.

"How would you accomplish such a feat, Tom?" Archon inquired, intrigued but wary of the offer.

"I'll provide you with guidance, and the rest will be up to you," Tom replied cryptically, his expression inscrutable. Archon knew better than to believe that Tom's assistance would come without a price.

"All right, what's the catch?" Archon pressed his intuition alert to the underlying motives behind Tom's proposal.

"A recommendation from your father," Tom revealed, his tone betraying a hint of ambition.

Back at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle had assembled a group of like-minded individuals who harbored disdain for Muggles. He cultivated the illusion of camaraderie and friendship among them, but Archon understood the truth—that Tom's motives were driven by manipulation and exploitation rather than genuine companionship. While Archon may have associated with Tom's group, he harbored no illusions about their true nature or his allegiance to them.

"What do you say, Archon?" Tom's smile carried a hidden agenda, one that Archon recognized all too well. Tom understood Archon's vulnerability—the relentless pressure from his family to uphold their pureblood ideology. Despite his personal reservations, Archon was compelled to feign disdain for Muggles and half-bloods to appease his family's expectations. Accepting Tom's offer held the potential to alleviate the incessant nagging about pureblood conflicts and marriage proposals that weighed heavily on Archon's shoulders.

"Let me hear your terms," Archon requested, his interest piqued as he contemplated the possibility of finding relief from his family's demands.

*****

Moments ago, the weather had been sunny, but as they ventured into new territory, a chill settled in the air. Hermione traveled in a dark blue horse-drawn carriage, akin in size to a standard carriage, soaring through the skies pulled by six winged horses. Below, a sickly brown forest lay shrouded in fog, visible through the window.

Resting her chin in her right hand, Hermione gazed out at the bleak landscape, leaning slightly out of the carriage window. Beside her, Lucky, her house-elf, also peered outside. House elves, small creatures with wide eyes and bat-like ears, were typically poorly dressed and treated unfairly. However, Hermione treated Lucky with kindness, unlike many others who owned house-elves. In some affluent households, house-elves were expected to be exceedingly obedient, with their freedom contingent upon gifting their master clothing.

Hermione's thoughts drifted to a conversation she'd had with her mother the previous month. Why had she chosen Hogwarts over her mother's alma mater? The truth was elusive even to Hermione herself. From the moment she had learned of Hogwarts, she had been captivated by the idea of attending. A mysterious force seemed to beckon her toward the school, filling her with an inexplicable sense of excitement. Despite her inner jubilation, Hermione knew she must comport herself as a proper lady of her household.

With half an hour remaining until their destination, exhaustion crept over Hermione. Lucky, ever attentive, noticed her mistress's weary eyes beginning to close. With a flick of her hand, a pillow materialized beside Hermione.

"Thank you, Lucky," Hermione murmured gratefully before succumbing to sleep.