Chapter Text
Once upon a time...
And it had to be once upon a time, didn’t it? Hermione insisted it be once upon a fucking time because despite being a witch and being subjected to all sorts of fantastical shit (she should have been an orthodontist), she was now in a decidedly… upon a time situation.
She was in a raccoon’s body after fucking up her time jump in an attempt to save the world. She was going for young Bellatrix, which while unfortunate was the plan. She’d jump into Bellatrix’s mind, dismantle the regime, and hopefully kill Voldemort.
Easy.
Her math was off but only by a few meters! The raccoon was just on the other side of the wall outside of Malfoy Manor where all the stupid Knights and baby Death Eaters were conferring.
This had been a suicide mission — Hermione’s Great Sacrifice. She’d never recover her own life or even her timeline, but this was the Greater Good because Voldemort won in her reality. If she could create a new one, why not?
Hermione took a few moments to get used to this new body. She had weird creepy little hands that were dextrous… did she have magic?
“Wingardium Leviosa!” she exclaimed, eyeballing a white rose petal on the ground before her. It came out as a garbled trill but the petal… twitched. She could work with that.
Hermione approached the front door fully prepared to use her best raccoon magic to get it open, whatever that entailed.
A house elf opened the door instead and she ran around it. It occurred to her sometime later the house elf could have stopped her at any time and should have not have let her in.
It’d been Dobby.
And he looked at her like he knew why she was there.
Rebellion came in many forms.
—
Riddle looked at her in disgust and Hermione blinked in astonishment at the sight of him. He really was handsome. Harry had only seen Tom when he was a teenager when he was in the Pensieve and described him as handsome. This was a genocidal sociopath in his prime. His dark-eyed, dark-haired, chiseled jawline, high-cheek boned prime. It wasn’t fair.
He motioned at Nagini. The large snake slithered down her master and coiled herself in front of him, her tongue flicking out, tasting and scenting the air.
What are you?
Hermione startled hearing the voice. Riddle cocked his head and his eyebrows raised just a hair’s length, indicating he heard Nagini’s question.
Does it matter?
Nagini stretched and uncoiled.
No, it doesn’t.
Ah, well.
Hermione was going to give as good as she got. She snarled on all fours in a crouch. The marble under her feet began to vibrate.
Riddle frowned.
Nagini reared. Hermione bared her teeth.
“My Lord–” and then Abraxas Malfoy (it must be him, he was a dead ringer for Draco) snatched her up. “I’ll dispose of it.”
Hey! Nagini cried.
The surprise of being manhandled and saved from certain death shocked her. She didn’t fight. He held her in both arms and close to his chest. She could hear his heart pounding even though outwardly he was calm. She cocked her head, taking him in. He had a harder, more masculine affect than Draco but he looked at her in almost a pleading, desperate way. Why?
“But what is it?” Riddle said in what she assumed was a shocking show of not knowing something.
Abraxas held her out and inspected her. She wriggled. “Er, some kind of badger?”
Ah, right. Raccoons weren’t native to Britain. Wait, how the hell did she come to be in this body?
“A raccoon,” a young Dolohov rasped and she turned her head to glare at him. “A creature from the Americas.”
He said it like raccoons were something mythical, the self-important dick. She bared her teeth at him.
“So why is it here? How is it here?” She assumed this was the elder Nott from the dark curls shot with silver.
Hermione was still eyeballing Dolohov whose brow was twitching under the weight of her gaze. Sneaky fucking Russian, trying to understand and to what end? Always something cruel. She hissed.
Riddle seemed to come back to himself then. “Get rid of it, Abraxas.”
Abraxas pulled her back to his chest and nodded.
Hermione wasn’t whisked into a garbage chute or scorched out of existence. Abraxas brought her to the orangery of all places. He set her down on a bit of stone that lined a path. She was surrounded by loam and fruit.
Abraxas Malfoy stood above her looking tragically confused. He crouched down and pet the top of her head. So gentle. Hermione was shocked and let herself be pet. She tried to speak and it came out as a rolling chitter that vibrated through her body and his hand.
“Charming thing,” he murmured. “You’ll do fine here.”
Why wouldn’t he just let her go? Or kill her? Then Hermione vaguely remembered Draco explaining the peacocks and abraxans— his grandfather was an animal lover and collector.
Then his face crumpled, “I lost my favorite pet recently– Talia. The sweetest thing. Her death wasn’t quick and I should have ended her– I…”
He stopped and looked upwards, sighing deeply. “What the fuck am I saying?” he whispered.
It never occurred to her that he might be gentle or be sweet toward said animals and it made something in her chest hurt.
She chirped at him trying to say, “Follow those instincts. They served you well before Tom Riddle.”
Maybe she could spare Draco in this timeline.
—
So that’s where she stayed for a few months. At least she thought it was a few months. Hermione was starting to lose any concept of time. Teenage Lucius brought her all sorts of treats during his winter and summer break. Narcissa Black kissed the tip of her nose every time she visited.
Hermione tried to escape but she was always corralled back in by something whether it be house-elf or human. It didn’t take long for her to just feel content. It didn’t take long for her to bide her time and be spoiled.
Hermione had been so tired. She might be a coward, revelling in this. It was just nice to relax.
One day, Bellatrix Black crumpled and sobbed over Andromeda leaving. She held Hermione tightly. Then she cast the Cruciatus Curse on her. It was a lot for her small body. She almost died.
If she’d been human she knew she could have handled it because she had before. She panted and thought of Neville.
Maybe she could spare him this, too. Spare his parents. Hermione wondered while her body twitched – nerves and muscles contracting — how much better this world might be if she could just…
Bellatrix gathered her up and whispered magic into her. Such a powerful witch. Hermione was renewed, her limbs now loose, the pain gone but of course she was still afraid.
Bellatrix cried cried cried soaking her fur while Hermione contemplated the woman who’d caused her and others unimaginable pain
“I didn’t think she would leave me. Never, never.”
This girl was heartbroken. But she had done such terrible things and it seemed she was hardwired for it from a young age.
No, no.
People weren’t born evil. Probably. That Hermione had to remember.
“I’m sorry,” Bellatrix whispered and Hermione knew she meant it however fucked up it was. But she couldn’t let herself be caught up in some cycle of abuse waiting for these people to be better… well, she’d try not to.
She had to keep her wits about her. Right?
Is this what it’s come to? You think you can fix them when it will likely lead to your death? Do you hear yourself?
She hadn’t come here to live, anyway. She might as well change up her strategy with the form she had.
So Hermione purred against Bellatrix’s neck and the witch clutched her tighter.
Her life’s bingo card didn’t include being the plush animal for Death Eaters.
It didn’t include her losing herself.
—
Bellatrix never hurt her again.
The Malfoys and Blacks were good to Hermione.
Tom Riddle began to notice.
—
Tom caught Bellatrix, Lucius, and Nacissa discussing the— the vermin.
Bellatrix was getting upset about strawberries.
Lucius sniffed, “She prefers raspberries.”
Somehow it all devolved into an argument about the usual – Malfoy bloodline, Black bloodline, supremacy.
Usually when Tom entered their space, they immediately shut their mouths and demurred. Apparently this argument over fruit and vermin superseded his presence among the adolescents. He decided to not take it personally and walked on.
Tom entered the orangery, Nagini at his heels.
He sat on his favorite marble bench and closed his eyes, relishing the heat and humidity. It felt good. Nagini loved it here. She poured herself over his lap and he stroked her scales. Tom felt content and basked with his eyes falling shut. He should really travel more, he wasn’t meant for the English climate.
He heard a slight clacking of nails on stone. He opened his eyes. It waddled up to them.
It sat up on its hind legs and wrung its stupid fingers.
“The little rodent,” he said.
It reared back and lifted its hackles as if offended. Interesting. He took a good look at it for the first time. Sort of a weasel, fox thing. Nothing really of note except—
Tom’s breath caught. A deep brown shot through with black striations and just a hint of gold flecks he knew would reflect in the dark. These were not the eyes of an animal. They gleamed in the sunlight beaming through the glass ceiling with intelligence and anger.
He could see how she felt and in turn he felt deeply disturbed by the notion.
“I search the minds of my followers frequently. You are strangely present there, did you know? An attachment, a stupid distraction,” he said. There was a strange restlessness that crawled under his skin over anything to do with it and he didn’t understand.
The vermin seemed to take it for the threat that it was and began to back away. He bent down and snatched it up by its scruff, lifting it to eye level. The eyes. So… pretty.
Tom definitely needed to feed it to Nagini.
It screeched and the sound was so oddly human, like a woman crying out and he startled. Then he felt a burn start at his fingertips and move through his hand, and then up his arm. Tom winced but he did not let her go. It was a weak attempt but all the same, this thing just used magic.
Nagini was wrapping around his torso and quivering with anxiety.
What is it!
“Well,” he sneered, jostling the creature. “You’re not what you seem.”
It chittered angrily and tried to claw at him with another surge of magic that was only a slight burn this time. Then it sank its little teeth into his wrist. Tom chuckled, a genuine laugh. He shook its teeth off him.
“What do you think, Nagini?” he hissed in Parseltongue.
I think I should eat it.
The thing went lax as if it knew what was going to happen to it. Well, what it thought was going to happen.
“Does she understand you?”
Yes, but she does not seem to understand you when you speak our language.
“Curious, that,” he said in English.
The creature continued to dangle in his grip. He considered it for a moment.
“Scare it a bit,” Tom said to Nagini in Parseltongue and then dropped it. It flopped to the ground in a heap. No cat-like reflexes for this one. Pathetic. “But no biting or eating.”
His familiar sighed.
The vermin scrambled to its feet and ran as Nagini lunged.
—
Hermione ran for her life. Then she was cornered.
Well. This was how she died. The big fucking dumb snake was going to eat her.
Hermione waggled her paws trying to summon magic. She failed. This was it. Would Nagini swallow her whole and digest her alive for a while? What a way to go.
She watched fangs unfurl, venom leaking from the tips. Like Bellatrix, this creature was responsible for so much grief and pain in her timeline and now she would—
Riddle called out in Parseltongue in the distance. Nagini paused, her jaw snapping together with several clicks of bone. Apparently snakes could roll their eyes.
I’m not sure why he wants me to spare you.
Wait.
He might be interested in you but I don’t see how.
Hermione tried to form words. In her brain. From her mouth.
Wha– what? A tentative trill.
Idiot. You’re ugly and I hate you.
Hermione gasped, deeply offended, conveniently forgetting she was fearing for her life just seconds ago.
Hey– hey! I didn’t ask to be here! Hermione whined in response.
Spoken like a whore cozying up to power.
Hermione’s little jaw dropped.
The snake slithered away.
Okay, so, Nagini was a bitch.
—
Later, Lucius found her sulking and languishing on top of a bit of loam. He patted her head and offered her half a croissant.
It was a very good croissant. She felt better.
—
“Explain it to me.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to explain,” Abraxas said.
“It has magic.”
The blonde arrogant piece of shit pureblood shrugged his shoulders. “My peacocks have magic. Is it so odd?”
Tom frowned. “Your peacocks have magic?”
Abraxas didn’t deign to answer Tom’s question. He probably assumed it was rhetorical. On fucking Christ, he hated the Malfoys. Tom rallied.
“Do you not wonder where it came from? Dolohov said it isn’t even native to this part of the world.”
Then Abraxas did that thing where he peered at Tom with narrowed eyes. That thing was why the Malfoys were the oldest and most successful wizarding family and why they would remain his ally. So Tom braced himself, as usual, for Abraxas’s question…
But no question came, much to his surprise. “I’d ask you not to kill her, but if you’re curious, then do what you do. You’re a Legilimens.”
“Legilmency cast on an animal? That’s not done.”
Abraxas smiled in a quizzical way, his blond brows furrowing. “Indeed. Not done on animals.”
Nagini hissed, Seriously? When has propriety stopped you?
Tom hated everyone.
—
Tom held fairy floss. He’d told Nagini to stay back. She’d wailed, of course, but he needed to make sure the creature stayed calm.
Hence the fucking fairy floss which he was told was her favorite by Bellatrix. Bellatrix Black uttering the words “fairy floss” with a creepy giggle and waggle of her fingers was an experience he didn’t care to repeat.
But then she didn’t stop and began to rant about raspberries and how Lucius was wrong wrong wrong.
Tom understood on some level that the girl was grieving the loss of her sister to marriage. Just like she’d grieved the blood traitor sister. They left her for love.
“Thank you, Bellatrix,” he’d said crisply and exited the room.
And now.
Tom sat on the bench.
The ridiculous thing padded to him almost immediately, its eyes on the sugar. Tom drew his wand.
This would be quick and easy.
“Legilimens.”
Tom hit a brick wall with such force, he bounced back and landed on his arse.
What the fuck…?
He got to his feet and took stock. It was impressive. This was not an animal’s mind. This was the mind of a very learned and talented Occlumens.
But she wasn’t more powerful than him.
Tom dragged his fingers against the grooves of the brick and prodded where it was porous and weak and he pushed.
He saw green eyes, green flash, he saw blood and bones, books and bonds, rats and wolves and giants and panic. Anger, fear, determination, strong magic with gritted teeth and intention so so raw—
So brave.
“That’s enough,” he heard someone say, a glance of wild hair, a huff. “Get out.”
He was shoved out.
The animal was sitting up, lapping at the fairy floss he’d dropped as if he hadn’t invaded its mind.
He was panting. That was… what was that?
Tom cleared his throat.
“You’re a female.”
No reaction.
“And you’re something else entirely. Not an animal.”
She was not listening.
“Pay attention!” Tom snapped and shot a jet of water from his wand at the fairy floss. It dissolved immediately. She blinked down at her paws, spreading and flipping them over. Then she looked around for her treat.
Finally, she looked at him with an expression of pure heartbreak and betrayal.
Tom was not impressed.
“What are you? Who are you?”
She turned around and ran away from him, darting into the density of fruit trees and rosebushes.
Tom clenched his jaw. It was possible she was a Maledictus like Nagini. In fact, he was sure of it now that he knew she was a female.
But for some reason, he felt deeply unsettled.
—
Tom dreamed.
He was in his bed grasping the hips of… of…
He didn’t know but whoever it was rubbed her nose against his in the dark and she (it had to be a she with these hips) smelled sharp and sweet like citrus, like skin sun-kissed.
“Nice to meet you.”
He woke up.
—