A/N: Hello world! This story is partly based on the japanese movie "Boku wa Imouto ni Koi wo Suru", which in its turn is based on the manga with the same name by manga artist Kotomi Aoki. Therefore, all rights goes to her and the amazingly imaginative Mrs Rowling.
A little warning! This story contains dark themes, dark!Tom (duh), pseudo-incest, violence and dub-con. My mind is kinda f*cked up and fluffiness makes me cry for all the wrong reasons, so trust in me to make you cry for all the right ones.
Chapter 1: The Man With a Hundred Smiles
I suppose he is handsome, this boy standing in front of me. He has an athletic build, which derives from his many hours playing various types of sports. Football being the favourite, if my memory does not fail me (and it so rarely does). His golden hair has a life of its own and his nose is dented in two places, making him look particulary refined for some reason. Two skyblue eyes, which never leaves mine, are filled with mirth; the foolishness of youth. He is seventeen. I am sixteen, but do not feel a day over twelve in his company.
It's not that his actions are unnerving or aggressive, quite the contrary, since I first made Abraxas acquaintance, he has been nothing but pleasant towards me. He's pleasant towards everyone. He got this charisma and earthiness about him that makes everyone in his proximity feel cared for. A gift which I sometimes envy, if only in secret.
And I am neither dumb nor shy. I just feel unexplicably dumb and shy in his company.
Ginny says that it is because I like him.
I respectfully disagree.
If I liked him, I would have reacted differently to his words. I would have reacted.. more.
Incomprehensibly, this boyman has just confessed to an incessant fondness for me.
"I like you," he'd said, leaving me close to speechless.
His face did not become crimson and I bet that if I were to touch his palms, I would find them dry and soft.
Is this where my averseness towards him lie? In his unfaltering confidance and easy demeanour?
It would seem that life just comes too easily for this bloke.
But just as fast as I make my judgement, I revoke it. For who am I to judge? Really?
"Okay," I say, filling the air with something else than my nervous breaths.
He gives off a tiny smile.
"Listen Hermione, you don't have to answer me right away.. Just think things over allright? I think we would be good together." He smiles again, broader this time. I remember Gin calling him the man with a hundred smiles. The nickname fits him well.
I say nothing, just nod my head and watch him back away. Leaving me all to myself in the empty corridor.
I've always been just a little bit sad.
I suppose that comes with being just a little bit smarter than my peers. Tom is smart too, but he doesn't seem to suffer from it the same way that I do. Sometimes, I think that he actually revels in it. The feeling of being an outcast and above everyone else is somehow a desirable concept to him.
Of course, he is an attractive guy and on top of that, the best at everything he does. And that he's a silent and broody type just seems to add to the enigma that is Tom Riddle.
And mystery in a good-looking man is not necessarily a bad thing.
To say that girls go gaga over him would be the understatement of the year.
Tom Riddle is my brother.
Or adoptive brother more like it, but that's not something we discuss. In the eyes of our (read: my) friends, our parents and ourselves; we are siblings.
I love Tom and once upon a time, he loved me.
We're in the same year, but in different classes. Tom is in the same class that Abraxas is in and Abraxas seem to have an odd one-sided friendship with my brother. I, due to my intelligence, was able to move up a grade. Tom was offered to do the same but declined, with the argument that he didn't want to miss out on any knowledge, however unsignificant. He once told me that he would never be satisfied until he knew everything. Therefore, a large part of his time are spent in the world of books. A world that I am most familiar with.
I'm afraid that I often choose reading in front of spending time with my friends. That doesn't necessarily mean that I don't love my friends - I just really love books. In other words, I'm a swot. People are ever so complicated. Books never argue with you or spend an excessive amount of time in dedication to talk about clothes, sex and their every-day life. Not that my friends are quite that dull or shallow, but those subjects are certainly not foreign in the company I keep.
Books are.. peaceful.
When I was young, Tom used to read to me. He would stroke my hair as I laid by his side, listening to the sad fate of Gregor Samsa and the violence performed by Mr Hyde. We read a lot of classics, because our parents believed that that would be good food for our brains. Not that we ever complained, but sometimes I wish that I would have taken a moment to be a child. To be dumb and annoying – to read something akin to that which is candy, ice-cream or pizza for the brain. Or better yet – not read at all. To watch a stupid television program with stupid actors and a stupid plot. I wish I had done that as I child. (But alas, I can not stand television).
Of course, since we're sixteen and seventeen, Tom doesn't read to me anymore. I read in my corner and he reads in his. In all honesty, he doesn't really keep my company anymore. For what it's worth, we see each other at breakfast and at dinner, and occasionally, we bump into each other in the hallway. Now, when I try to start up a conversation with Tom, he just answers me in short phrases, eager to cut off any sort of communication as fast as possible.
That's the way with teenage boys, my mother says. As they grow older, family becomes less and less important. He got his own future to think of, his own friends and girlfriends to pay attention to. We're just not that important anymore.
I understand that, but I miss Tom. I miss having him stroke my hair as he reads to me. I just miss.. being with him.
Nowadays, everything I do, seem to annoy Tom. A slip of the tongue or a small mistake blows widely out of proportion as he yells at me in anger. At times he pulls my hair hard, or pinches me until his fingers leaves purple bruises on my skin. But I never tell anyone that, feeling strangely protective of my brother. I actually prefer his violence to him ignoring me.
Seeing as we appear to have so much in common, it's hard for me to grasp why Tom seems so eager to include me as little as possible in his life. Especially since we used to be so very close.
I can't concentrate during class. Math and numbers never really seems to hold my interest, even though I excel in it. But not as greatly as Tom does of course. Never as greatly as Tom.
He is, without a doubt, the best student in our year and probably the best student throughout the history of our school. I'm second best. Always second. I'm not really bitter about it (except that I am), but our parents tend to treat Tom slightly different than me. And by different – I mean better. It's not that our parents are bad people, they just hold knowledge and achievement in an extremely high regard. My mother is a professor in neuroscience at Beauxbatons University and my father a world famous surgeon. Tom is their golden child. And bitter little me holds the silver prize.
Today, my thoughts are not with Tom or our parents, but on Abraxas. I'm worrying about what to tell him. I sincerely do not know if I wish to date him or not. And dating.. dating just seems so absolutely ridicolous, or maybe unnatural is a better word? Nevertheless, I shudder at the thought of it. Abraxas is nice and all, but as I already pointed out, I can't seem to function normally around him. And some X-factor about him just rubs me the wrong way.
During lunch, I sit with the usual people; Ginny, Neville, Padma, Luna and Harry are all part of my "crew". I consider telling Ginny about Abraxas confession but quickly shoots down the thought when remembered by her secretly telling me of her undying love for him. A tragedy, seeing as Harry can't take his eyes of her, and Padma of Harry and Neville of Padma.. and so the sad story of teenage love continues. To this day I don't know who the hell Luna likes. Love seems to be just as much of a foreign concept to her as it is to me.
By mistake, I catch Abraxas blue eyes when I see him cross the cafeteria and sit down at the table that Tom already has occupied. He gives off one of his smiles and winks at me. I give a little effort into smiling back at him. As he turns his back towards me, I catch Tom's eyes. He is sitting on the other side of Abraxas and appears to have watched the exchange of looks between me and the young blond. He doesn't smile. Tom rarely smiles. He just gives me a piercing look, so that if I had been closer to him, I would've been afraid of him turning physically violent towards me. In return to his frown, I try to smile, much the same as I had done with Abraxas. The effort of a smile is not answered.