Disclaimer: Tom Felton is hot and I don't own Harry Potter.

Hello and welcome to The Cynics! BEFORE YOU BEGIN, a few warnings:-

(1) This occurs in an AU where Tom Riddle is born during the Trio's time. As such, Voldemort doesn't exist (yet) and there are a lot of changes to the cast of characters, the timeline, etc. To state the obvious, this is definitely not canon-compliant in any way.

(2) In keeping with the first rule, OOCness will happen - because this world is so different, the people in it will also lead different lives and have different attitudes, beliefs, and personalities. I'm going to try and keep the essence of most characters generally the same, though, so long as it fits where this story is going.

(3) You can expect a gradual Dark!Hermione (and potentially Disturbing!Hermione) here. At the end of this, she isn't going to be the 'sweet-but-tough' warrior-maiden that I see in a lot of Hermione fics. Tom isn't going to turn into a fluffy bunny lover, either. They're out for power, and they're not going to be nice about it.

(4) T rating to start, but may go up in later chapters.

That's it for now. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

THE CYNICS

Prologue

It was quiet.

The air was still, the grounds were empty and a full moon hung, as it always seemed to do on this particular night, brightly in the sky. Filch, the mean caretaker, was patrolling the corridors of the castle predatorily with Mrs. Norris at his side, ready to catch any troublemakers who fancied pulling a big, scary prank. The groundskeeper, Hagrid, had retired early and was sound asleep in his hut, and in the Great Hall, indulging in a banquet so decadent that Hogwarts' elves only dared provide it once a year, was the entirety of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's student body and staff.

All, that was, except for one – a young girl with bushy hair and baggy robes, glaring at nowhere in particular with anger and misery in her eyes. It was October 31st, and she should have been at the Halloween Feast.

"Stupid, moronic, idiotic Ronald Weasley!" she hissed to herself, knees tucked underneath her. She was in the last cubicle of the second floor girls' lavatory, a dark place which might have brought fear to any other girl caught wandering Hogwarts alone on Halloween but which comforted Hermione Granger to no end.

Here, she was alone. Here, no one ever tried to bother her. Here, she wasn't a freak.

She wiped her damp eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Dumb imbecile!" she muttered, continuing her verbal assault on the redheaded boy who, despite all his claims of House loyalty, had made it his life's goal to ruin hers. "Daft cabbage leaf! Annoying git!" The insults echoed off the bathroom walls, and hearing her voice twisted in dislike, she suddenly felt guilty. If her parents could hear her now, they would have been horrified. Their kind, shy little girl, cursing the name of one of her fellow classmates? They didn't understand. He was an annoying git, and he deserved it.

Where did he get off thinking that he could treat her that way? She hadn't been looking for a fight at all during Charms class! She had simply wanted to help him. He was a Pureblood, had grown up hand spent is entire life in the Wizarding World, and couldn't cast a simple Freezing Charm. Yet, after all that, he thought he could trash-talk her, simply because she had the gall to be the first one to get the charm right, and was a Muggle-born to boot? Git!

She willed herself to calm down, as she already had tried to do five times that evening. Eyes shut, she began to breathe deeply in through her nose, and out through her mouth. She knew what her mother would say in this situation. Whenever you're upset, take a step back and breathe. Try reciting runes – you love those.

Fehu.

Uruz.

Thurisaz.

Ansuz.

The tension in her body began to dissipate, and after a few minutes, she opened her eyes again. There was no point wasting her breath on Weasley. She didn't think she was being vain by thinking he was obviously jealous. Jealousy makes people stupid, her father had always told her, whenever she had complained about the bullying in primary school. You can't listen to anything they say. Malfoy was jealous too, probably, and Lestrange, and everyone else who teased her.

The best revenge is success. Be a better person, be a better student. There's no nasty retort for that.

Hermione wiped her eyes one last time, shakily stood up and left the cubicle. She wasn't going to go to the Halloween Feast now, of course – the last thing she needed was more attention on her for being late. Her bed seemed much more inviting, but first, she needed to clean up.

She reached out to turn the water on. The first tap she tried didn't work, and of course, it just had to be the one with the snake engraved on its side. Even the castle's snakes are against me, she thought bitterly as she moved one sink over. The water was cool on her fingertips as the tap turned on and she looked into the mirror. Her eyes were blotchy and red, and her cheeks were wet with tears. Merlin, she looked horrible. If she could at least stop her eyes from looking so puffy and got rid of the redness in her cheeks, she'd be okay. She wasn't planning on running into anyone on the way to the dorm, but if by some curse of the Fates she happened to bump into one of her many tormentors – or anyone from her year, really, since no one seemed to like her - she didn't want to look like she had just come from a fresh pity party.

She didn't hear the faint hissing from behind her as she bent over the sink to wash her face, and when she looked up into the mirror again, all she saw was a pair of huge, red eyes.

She barely had time to scream before her body stiffened and everything turned black.