Chapter Two: First Class.
'This isn't a fairy-tale, Hermione," He said darkly, gripping her upper arms, 'This can never have a happy ending…'
'I don't care,' Hermione said quietly, looking desperately up into his handsome face.
'You should,' He said darkly, his eyes raking over her. 'I can never be what you wish me to be. I am not good, and I never will be. I am not your prince, Hermione…I don't kiss you and you turn into a princess-'
'No,' Hermione said, cutting him off, 'Because when you kiss me…I want to die…'
His eyes seemed to lighten, but he did not reply. He didn't have to, Hermione knew that it was an unspoken understanding. She would never leave his side, and she accepted him for who he was. He knew this and Hermione smiled, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck as she melted into him. He didn't resist her, and she sighed when she felt his arms wrap tightly around her.
Hermione sighed into his chest, her nose filled with his pleasant scent as she desperately clutched to him.
'Stay with me?' She asked, tilting her head up to look into his dark eyes.
'Forever," He replied quietly, 'That's the whole point, right?'
Something fell from her chest, hitting the floor with a loud clack. Pulling back, Hermione looked down to see a locket that had crashed to the floor. It was golden, and had an ornate, serpentine 'S' on the front. Panic swirled inside her as she watched him slowly bend to grasp it with his long fingers.
He opened the locket, seeing the tiny windows shattered. Hermione's breath caught as she watched his fist close around the locket tightly.
He looked up darkly at her.
'How could you?' he asked in a low voice, his eyes flashing red, as she watched, horrified, as his blood started freely running from his hand that was clutching the locket with such force.
Hermione's eyes filled with tears and a sob threatened to escape from her throat as she slowly backed away from him.
'I…I'm sorry…I had to,' She cried. 'Please understand…I'm sorry!'
''I trusted you!' He said harshly, as blood rushed from his hand and his handsome face filled with anguish.
She reached out towards him, her hand trembling.
'DON'T!' He screamed harshly at her, backing away as he clutched his chest.
Hermione watched, horrified, as a red stain seeped onto his shirt. The stain grew, and she watched as the blood spread.
'NO!' Hermione cried, rushing towards him as he fell against her.
'Don't leave me!' Hermione cried as she watched his white shirt become soaked in his own blood. It was though someone had stabbed him through his heart—she felt helpless, and more terrified than she had ever been in her entire life.
'You did this to me,' He said quietly, laying in her arms on the floor, his own blood surrounding him. 'You killed me, Hermione.'
"NO!" Hermione screamed, bolting up from her bed. Her body trembled, sweat covering her forehead.
'It was just a dream…'
Hermione groaned, falling back into her bed. Reaching over, she picked up her wand, casting a time charm and groaning when she saw it was only six in the morning.
'What the bloody hell was that about?'
Hermione, for the first time, found herself disturbed from her own dreams.
The man in the dream had clearly been Professor Riddle, but why on earth would she be dreaming such things? Also, why would he be that angry over a broken necklace? She decided nothing in that dream should be taken seriously—at all. Besides, its not like he'd ever consider being with a book worm like her…
'Not in this century,' She thought dejectedly to herself. Shaking her head, she climbed out of bed to get ready for the first day of class. She would have to be up in an hour anyway, and there wasn't much point in staying in bed.
"So, are you ready for your first class with Mr. Sex on legs?" Ginny asked Hermione as they were walking to class. Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled at her friend.
"I heard that, Ginny," a half-asleep Harry grumbled to her.
"I'm sure he'll be annoyed by me answering all of the questions before the week is out," Hermione replied, finding that her stomach clenched uncomfortably at the thought of him being annoyed by her.
"Whatever, you'll be his favorite just like with all the other teachers," Ginny said, dismissively waving her hand. "At least this time, you can be damn proud of it!"
"He was a Slytherin, Ginny," Hermione said, "His favorite will probably be someone like…I dunno—Malfoy?"
"That idiot?" Ginny asked, flabbergasted.
Hermione burst into giggles at Ginny's appalled expression.
"That moron couldn't find his way out of a paper bag," Ginny said, scoffing.
"He only could if his mum was there to point him in the right direction," Hermione said seriously.
"Touché," Ginny answered, laughing.
As they approached the Defense classroom, Hermione felt butterflies start pooling in her stomach and she gulped nervously.
"Well, I better get to Divination…" Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Please, Hermione, save me from the horror that is the form of Professor Trelawney!"
"Don't you want to know about your untimely death, Ginny?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose.
Ginny snorted.
"That's just it!" Ginny exclaimed, "According to that wacko, I should have died four times by now!"
Hermione doubled over in laughter as Ginny kissed Harry and skipped off to Divination. Composing herself, but still slightly chuckling, she walked into class with Harry, who could barely keep his eyes open.
'Wow, this sure is a surprise,' Hermione thought sarcastically to herself as she saw the front rows completely filled with girls.
Hermione snorted. What did those idiots think? Did they actually think Professor Riddle could fancy them? The idiocy of it all blew her away.
"Mione!" a voice screeched behind her, making her jump and whip around.
"Ron?" She asked, eyeing him as he charged in the room. He was out of breath, and his clothes were sloppily put on.
"I over slept," He said, yawning, "I thought I was going to be late."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Er," Ron said, rubbing the back of his head, "Sorry, you know me."
Hermione smiled as they sat down in the back—Not that she wanted to, but she really didn't have that much of a choice.
"We're sitting in the back," Harry said, yawning.
"Your observational skills astound me, Harry," Hermione said, laughing as he narrowed his sleepy eyes at her.
"I'm just saying—it's weird…" Harry said, observing the front of the classroom, "Look at all the girls up there!"
"Well, if you want to sit up front, you could always tell Millicent Bulstrode to move it…" Hermione trailed off, jokingly.
"And get pounded into the ground?" Harry asked sarcastically, eyeing the giant-like Slytherin, "I think I'll pass."
Hermione laughed and looked nervously around the classroom—which Professor Riddle had yet to enter.
"I'm not looking forward to this, at all." Harry said, crossing his arms and snorting, "If Professor Dumbledore doesn't like him, I don't like him. He must be a real-"
"I suggest you do not finish that sentence, Mister Potter," Came a cold voice from behind them, causing all three Gryffindors to freeze in fear.
Once she unfroze, Hermione whipped her head around, seeing Professor Riddle standing directly behind them, his arms crossed and his face was darkly blank. He still looked devastatingly handsome in his black robes though, of course.
She swallowed, and felt her mouth go dry.
"Er, Professor Riddle," Harry stammered, "I-I didn't mean anything-"
"I know what you meant perfectly well, Mister Potter," Professor Riddle snapped and his dark eyes fell over to Hermione's wide ones. "Twenty points from Gryffindor."
"TWENTY?" Harry howled, "But, I didn't even-"
"Thirty points."
"But-" Harry started, but was cut off by Hermione.
"Harry, shut up!" She hissed, whacking him on the arm.
"I suggest you listen to Miss Granger," Professor Riddle said, raising an eyebrow at them before walking briskly away from them, towards the front of the classroom.
"What an asshole!" Harry whispered venomously, under his breath, "I told Ginny…But does she listen? No!"
"Shh!" Hermione shushed him. She felt her cheeks tinge pink as she watched the Professor glide to the front of the classroom, leaving giggling girls in his wake.
"Welcome to seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts," Professor Riddle said loudly in a remarkably appealing voice, "I'm going to tell you, this class will be hard. I do not accept excuses. If your work isn't done on time, its not my problem and you will easily fail if you cannot keep up."
Hermione smiled as she pulled out her parchment and quill, ready to take notes. She was glad this class was going to be a challenge.
He turned and began writing on the chalkboard. Hermione raised her eyebrows as she noticed his handwriting was elegant and perfect.
"Now, today, I'm going to go over the material that I'm going to be teaching throughout the year," he said, "I suggest you take notes."
Hermione was already there, eagerly waiting with her quill as Ron and Harry groaned and reluctantly pulled out their parchment and quills.
"Now, can anyone tell me the three unforgivable curses and what all three cause?" He asked, slowly pacing in front of the class.
Hermione's hand immediately shot in the air, along with a few other girls. She couldn't help but to notice that those said girls never raised their hands in class; they even glared at her sometimes for answering questions!
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Professor Riddle said, gesturing his long fingered hand towards her.
Hermione's stomached filled with butterflies. He picked her!
"Yes, Sir," Hermione said, "The first curse is the Imperius curse, which allows the caster to have complete mind-control over the person it was cast upon," Hermione explained, "The second is the Cruciatus curse, which inflicts excruciating pain on the recipient—and the third is the killing curse, and it causes instant death."
"And what is the killing curse called?" He asked her, his eyebrow lifting slightly as he watched her blankly.
"The incantation is, 'Avada Kedavra.' Sir," Hermione finished, turning slightly pink.
"Very good," He said, turning around, "And why are they called, 'Unforgivable curses.' Miss Granger?"
Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"Well, because the use of any of them is unforgivable, Sir," She responded hesitantly, "And highly illegal…Use of them carries an automatic sentence to life in Azkaban."
He smirked as she gave him the law book answer.
"Good," He said, turning around, "Five points to Gryffindor."
'Just five points? Those answers were worth at least ten!' Hermione bristled in her seat at the injustice.
"The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal," Professor Riddle lectured, "Fighting the Dark Arts is like fighting a many-headed monster—which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, and indestructible…"
Hermione held her breath as she was captivated by his words throughout class. He truly had a way of explaining things, and she never thought she'd find someone's lectures she enjoyed as much as Professor Dumbledore's…If not, more.
"Now, here are copies of a book I'd like you all to read," Professor Riddle said, pulling out his wand towards a stack of large books on his desk. With a simple flick of his wand, the books flew through the classroom and landed in front of each student.
Hermione eagerly picked the book up, looking at the title.
'Confronting the Faceless…' Hermione thought to herself, raising her eyebrows as she realized the book was slightly Dark.
"It has information on the unforgivable curses, resisting the Imperius curse, Inferi, and Dementors," He said in a calm voice, running his long fingers down the length of his wand, "I expect all of you to finish reading this book by the end of the month, for which you will be tested on. Also, I expect a full five feet essay on the book once you have finished reading it."
Hermione practically heard Harry and Ron's jaws metaphorically hit the desk at this. It wasn't like she minded, she'd probably be finished with the book by the end of the week, even though it was a little over six hundred pages long.
"Now, if you would all come forward and hand me your notes in a line," Professor Riddle asked, appearing not to notice the panicked looks of the students around the classroom.
"I told you all to take notes at the beginning of class," He said in an eerily calm voice, "Your notes on my lecture shall be your first grade. If you did not take notes, do not bother coming forward and I shall simply give you a 'T' for today. I meant what I said, and when I ask you to do something, I do expect you to do it."
Many students bristled in their seats, looking uncomfortable. Hermione let out a sigh of relief as she looked down at her good three feet of parchment worth of notes.
Cutting her eyes to Harry and Ron, she shook her head. Ron had wrote one sentence, where as Harry wrote about a paragraph.
They all three stood, and Hermione noticed only about five other students stood as well and walked towards Professor Riddle, who was merely standing there, watching them with dark eyes.
Hermione waited in the back of the line as she watched Professor Riddle skim through the students notes, tapping them with his wand and handing them back to them.
Ron approached him, and hesitantly handed him his notes.
Hermione watched as Professor Riddle raised one eyebrow.
"Mister Weasley, this is one sentence," Professor Riddle said coldly, "A sentence—which does not even pertain to my lecture."
Ron's face turned bright red as Professor Riddle handed him back his paper.
Harry was next, and he handed him his 'notes' as Professor Riddle shook his head, disapprovingly, before handing his parchment back to him, wordlessly.
Hermione slightly smiled as she walked up to Professor Riddle, who was watching her with a blank expression. Shakily, she handed him her notes. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, as she was terrified he would scold her in front of the entire class—or worse, disapprove of her.
She watched as his dark eyes flew across her notes. His facial expression gave nothing away, and she found herself shifting on her feet at his silence. At least she noticed he was taking much longer with hers than had he anyone else.
"Sufficient notes," Professor Riddle said smoothly, "The first ones I've seen, Miss Granger."
Hermione watched as he tapped her parchment with his wand, making a clear 'O' appear at the top.
Her face erupted into a smile as she took her notes back front his outstretched hand. He watched her expressionlessly, making her slightly nervous.
"Thank you, Sir," Hermione said brightly, before turning away and walking towards her seat. She couldn't help but to notice all the glares from girls she was receiving.
Taking her seat, she still had the ridiculous smile plastered to her face.
"That was so unfair!" Harry whispered beside her, "He can me a 'P'!"
"You wrote a paragraph, Harry," Hermione whispered back, "You're lucky you didn't get a 'T'!"
"I got a 'T'…" Ron whispered bitterly.
"Please tell me you didn't expect something different, Ron," Hermione whispered indecorously.
"I was hoping for a 'P', actually," Ron grumbled.
Hermione looked at him, flabbergasted. How can anyone hope to get a poor grade? She would never understand him in a million years.
"That is all for today," Professor Riddle said, gaining Hermione's attention, "Mister Potter and Miss Granger, please stay behind."
"Fuck…" Harry muttered under his breath.
Hermione cut her eyes at him, but didn't say anything. She was too focused on the butterflies in her stomach.
Ron packed his bags, giving Harry a sarcastic grin before running out of the classroom as Harry growled at him.
Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. She packed her bag, and clutched the book he'd given them to her chest before walking slowly towards the front of the classroom, with a grumbling Harry in tow.
Professor Riddle was sitting behind his desk, writing furiously on his parchment.
"Mister Potter, I'm very disappointed in you," Professor Riddle said suddenly, looking up, "You are Head boy, and you completely disregarded my instruction."
"W-Well," Harry shifted, "It's just we've never been graded on notes before, so I-"
"I already covered this at the beginning of class, Mister Potter," Professor Riddle cut him off coldly, "I do not accept excuses. I asked you to do something, and I expect you to do it. Whether or not you have been graded on notes before, is completely irrelevant. As Head boy, you should know better."
Hermione shifted slightly. Harry was her best friend, and she loved him to death…But Professor Riddle was right. Harry was Head boy, he couldn't get away with being a slacker. He had to apply himself.
"Yes, Sir," Harry said through gritted teeth, clenching his hands at his side.
"Leave," Professor Riddle said coldly.
Harry turned on his heel, and Hermione hesitantly followed him, wanting to get away from all the tension that seemed to build in the room.
"I did not dismiss you, Miss Granger."
Hermione froze, whipping around to look at the Professor, who was pointing a long fingered hand to the place in front of his desk.
"S-Sorry, Sir," Hermione stuttered, "I thought you meant-"
"I know what you thought, Miss Granger," He said smoothly, watching her with dark eyes as she approached his desk.
Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat and hesitantly looked up into his dark gaze.
"Your notes were very nicely done, Miss Granger," He said smoothly, lacing his fingers on his desk.
"Thank you, Sir," Hermione shifted, clutching the book tighter to her chest.
"Can I ask you a question, and promise to give me your honest answer?"
'Huh?' Hermione thought to herself, as her eyebrows furrowed.
"Er, yes,"
"I've been looking over Mister Potter's and your files," He said, pulling some papers from his desk, "Now, I can see how you were made Head girl, your grades are, by far, the best in the school. They're almost as good as mine were in school…"
'Almost as good as your grades were? What is that supposed to mean?' Hermione slightly fumed to herself.
"Now, Mister Potter's grades are, average, at the very best," Professor Riddle said smoothly, leaning causally back in his chair, "How did the boy get the Head boy position?"
He was actually asking her this? He clearly did not like Harry, and she had agreed that he was right to scold him but…She would defend Harry until her last breath—no matter what. He was her brother.
"Well, he's very determined, and he's…" Hermione desperately tried to explain, trailing off as she realized that she couldn't think of another reason why Harry was Head boy.
Professor Riddle smirked at her as she trailed off and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks.
"He's always catching people when something bad happens in school," Hermione suddenly blurted. Yes, Harry was very good at busting people for wrong doings.
'Evil doer spotter…' Ginny's words echoed in her head and she struggled to keep a giggle closed in her chest.
"Is that so?" Professor Riddle asked, appearing to be thinking as he watched her.
Hermione swallowed and looked down at her feet as she waited for him to speak.
"Very well," He said, "Also, as Head's, I expect you and Mister Potter to sit in the front row from now on…Especially Mister Potter, seeing as he obviously needs the help."
"Can't you put our names on a desk or something?" Hermione asked, slightly exasperated, "I'd rather not have to battle a gang of girls in Slytherin for their seats."
Hermione cringed over the thought of telling someone like Millicent Bulstrode to move. Not that the girl would ever be able to beat Hermione in a duel in a million years, she just didn't want all the problems it would cause.
Professor Riddle smirked as her face, once again, heated up.
"You're Head girl, Hermione," Professor Riddle said quietly, "Do not pretend you have a problem with bossing others around, it does not become you."
Hermione's jaw slightly fell open.
"Sir?" She asked, slightly taken back at him practically calling her bossy. He wasn't wrong, but…still!
"You heard me, Miss Granger," Professor Riddle said dismissively, "Now, here's a note for Professor Slughorn—get to class." He ordered, pulling out his wand and making a piece of parchment appear and sending it floating towards her.
"Yes, have a nice day, Professor," Hermione said politely, having recovered from her temporary shock.
His dark eyes seemed to access her and he curtly nodded, turning back to his papers and effectively dismissing her, again.
Hermione turned on her heel and hurried down the isle between the desks, suddenly ready to leave the room as quickly as possible.
Her toe caught on one of the deep cracks in the stone floor, causing her to stumble, and quickly grab one of the edges of the desk to keep from falling.
Cursing under her breath, she heard a deep and sensuous chuckle from behind her.
Her cheeks erupted in flames as she realized Professor Riddle was laughing at her. Which was, rather rude, seeing as the other Professor's would have at least asked if she was okay first.
Refusing to look back, Hermione sighed loudly and marched out the door, letting the door swing shut loudly behind her.
Leaning against the door, she sighed heavily.
'Okay, he is kind of an asshole…' Hermione admitted bitterly to herself. Of course, in a perfect world, someone that looked like him would have the perfect personality and be kind and caring…But she had a nagging feeling that Professor Riddle was anything but that.