Hey guys! So sorry I took so long last time. Made this one extra long! Thank you all for the positive feedback, it really means a lot and is such motivation. I'll try and get the next chapter on as soon as possible!
Arithmacy was a very difficult subject, leaving only three students at Newt standard. These were Hermione Granger, Carl Hopkins from Hufflepuff, and Draco Malfoy.
"Alright Granger," the latter greeted her as she took her seat at the front next to him.
"Malfoy," she responded gently. Despite their initial feud, Draco and Hermione had become friends of a sort, at least in the subjects where no one would see them. When Draco's father was taken to Azkaban after being discovered harbouring dangerous and illegal objects in their holiday manor, Draco had become much kinder, and Hermione had come to see a different side of him. Not only was he incredibly smart, but funny and loyal as well. Nowadays, if he ever heard anyone speak ill of Hermione they would be hexed to no end. Of course, he never admitted it was him.
The three students pulled out their textbooks and began copying the notes off the board. There was an understanding in the classroom that respect for the teacher and the subject would not be viewed as nerdy. It was nice for Hermione that she received appreciation and praise rather than abuse when she correctly answered a question.
"How was your holiday?" Draco asked quietly.
"Boring," she responded. "Yours?"
He sighed and set his quill down. "It was ok I suppose." Sensing he was upset she also set her quill down and sent him an inquisitive look. "This whole thing with my dad has been really hard on my mother. She's been completely cut out from all society. I was debating even coming back to school at all."
"I'm sorry to hear it," Hermione said truthfully, and softly patted Draco's hand in sympathy. She tried to imagine what she would do if she was in Draco's situation, but she came up short. Her dealings with the dark arts were quite minimal. He took up his quill again, obviously signalling he no longer wanted to talk about it, which she respected. She knew he was a man of minimal words, and hearing him open up at all to her meant a lot.
The lesson finished and Hermione went up to the common room to spend her free period. She saw Ron and Lavender and went to sit with them, despite her dislike towards her best friend's annoying girlfriend.
"Hello Hermione," Ron said pleasantly when she sat down. Lavender ignored her completely. She tried to capture Ron's attention again by twiddling his red hair through her fingers. Hermione could not help but feel a slight pang of jealousy at the sign of affection.
"Hey Ron. Lavender." Hermione pulled out some work to get on with in quiet, allowing the couple to carry on being repulsive. She had to admit they had toned it down a bit since they'd first got together in their sixth year, but the sight of them together still caused slight nausea. At first, she was upset at the idea that Ron liked anyone other than her in the first place, even though she did not comprehend her own feelings towards him. Now, she supposed, it was less the people but couples in general. Harry and Ginny were okay, but then again they were not big displayers of public affection. The Hermione was similar in that aspect. She reckoned that if she did happen to become involved with someone, she would try and keep it as quiet as possible. To her, your private life should be kept, well, private.
The period zoomed by, and Hermione managed to complete the majority of her workload. She gathered her books to go to Defence with Ron, while Lavender said goodbye and made her way to Divination.
"Are you worried about seeing Riddle?" Ron asked as they walked briskly.
Hermione's stomach filled with a complete feeling of dread. All day she had managed to squish the idea of seeing Riddle into a small box in her mind that occasionally rattled but all in all could keep quiet. She shook her head silently, fearing that if she spoke she would spill the big secret.
They arrived just as the door was closing behind the last student. Ron caught it and held it open for Hermione, and after a small mental pep talk she walked in.
Deciding quickly, she made her way to an empty desk at the back of the classroom so she wouldn't have to look at Riddle unless she completely had to.
"Miss Granger."
She looked up.
There he was, standing in front of his desk just like the night before. She felt a painful twinge in her head at the memory. He pointed silently wish his wand to a desk at the front, right in front of him. She walked quickly to the empty seat and took it, not looking at him so he couldn't see the fear on her face, but she could feel his smirk bearing into her. He launched quickly into his lesson. The desk was positioned so it was slightly more forward than the others on the front row, so she had to crane her neck left and right in order to see the other students. In a nutshell, he had managed to isolate her from everyone else and make it seems completely normal.
She tried not to notice that the other students on the front row were all girls who appeared to be drooling over their notes rather than writing on them.
All through the lesson Hermione made sure she wrote the lecture note for note. She didn't want to give Riddle any other reason to victimise her. The more of his words she wrote down, the more she absorbed the passion behind them. It was a bit like Snape; they both tried to play down their hunger for what they were teaching, but the real emotion could be evidently seen if you only looked slightly harder. The phrases he used to describe the dark arts were almost loving, almost caressing.
Hermione knew all too well that this man was most likely not capable of love.
She managed to make it through the period with no contact with him at all, instead just carefully inscribing what he was saying. It gave her a reason to never look up from her paper.
When the lesson ended, she all but sprinted out of the classroom, not allowing him to even attempt to talk to her. She decided she was going to drop Defence Against the Dark Arts. She didn't have as much interest in it as Harry or Ron did, and avoiding Professor Riddle was the main objective on her list. Potions and Ancient Ruins dragged painfully past. All Hermione could focus on was going to see McGonagall and finally being rid of the man. She sped up to the witch's office the minute her teacher dismissed them for lunch.
"Professor!" Hermione called after the transfiguration teacher, who was walking away in the direction of the Great Hall when Hermione arrived on the corridor.
The elder witch turned. "Miss Granger, what can I do for?" That was one thing Hermione admired about McGonagall. Even though it was obvious she was on her way to lunch, she still chose to speak to a student that was in need. She really cared about her students.
"I was wondering if I could talk to you about dropping a subject?" Hermione asked tenderly.
McGonagall looked quite surprised. "You, give up a subject? I never thought I'd hear the day. Well, come in." She ushered Hermione into her office before taking a seat at her desk. "Now, which subject."
"Defence Against the Dark Arts."
McGonagall studied Hermione over her glasses, her mouth in a severe line. "Really, Miss Granger? Professor Riddle has already begun to sing your praises. He seems to think you are the best student to have ever walked into his classroom."
Hermione felt her cheeks warm. "I feel as though… well my workload… I just really want to drop it. Please Professor."
The older witches eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, instead pulling out a large folder. She tapped it with her wand so the pages flicked, landing on a page designated to Hermione. She scribbled something with her quill, before returning her attention to the young witch. "Consider it done, Miss Granger." Hermione got up to leave. "Before you go, is there anything at all you wish to talk about?"
Hermione swallowed loudly, feeling as though a ball was stuck down her dry throat. She felt as if the Professor could see into her mind. She hoped she could. However, she whispered in a very small voice "No Professor, nothing at all."
Without Defence, Hermione's time table opened up a lot, allowing her more frees and therefore more time to focus on her other subjects. She was well ahead of her workload, and even had time to spend her last free on the Friday lounging by the lake reading for fun while the boys worked on essays for Riddle.
"He's been in such a foul mood," Ron commented, crossing through an entire line before starting a new sentence. "It's like one day he just switched. He's been setting us essay after essay. Git."
Harry nodded in agreement. "Seriously Hermione, you're so lucky you got out when you did. Even you would call this homework unfair."
She gave the boys a compassionate look, trying not to think that it was her dropping his subject that made the Professor angry. But surely, if she had removed herself from his direct contact, he would just find another girl to torture. She had barely seen him the past week, and her mind had been glad for it. Occasionally she would feel a scorching stare on her back while she sat at meals, but she always refused to turn around. She knew what she would face if he did.
She laid back on the grass, allowing her hair to spill out behind her and her eyes to close. It was a lovely September day, the last grasp of summer before the clouds turned dark. The trio lapsed into the comfortable silence that could only be adopted by friends that had known each other for so long.
The period ended abruptly, and their group swelled as Ginny, Lavender, Neville and Luna joined them. Ginny brought up the subject of the Hogsmead trip that weekend, but Hermione was barely listening. It was the same every trip – Harry and Ginny would go off for a meal, Ron and Lavender would go somewhere quiet to spend some 'alone time' and she would be stuck with Neville and Luna all day as they did their funny little dance around eachother. They both had feelings, everyone knew. But Luna was too dreamy to notice his, and Neville was too shy to make a move. It was all so childish.
She decided then that she would go it alone and go to the little known bookstore to seek out some new material. The idea of fresh books put a smile on her face, and at that moment she was completely content.
Meanwhile, in his office, Professor Riddle was pulling out his hair, staring at the fourth year in front of him. "It's not the same!" he seethed, sending a curse the girl's way. She rolled onto the floor, eyes glazed. It was giving him no satisfaction, nothing at all. The girl whimpered slightly, but it was nothing, nothing compared to how he felt seeing the Granger girl in front of him. He would find a way to get to her, he had to. Muttering the spell, he erased the fourth year's memory and carried her to an empty classroom.
When he got back to his office, he stared out the window. Straight away he spotted the girl laid by a tree near the lake. Her curly hair was fanned out like a halo against her pale skin, screaming innocence. She had the tiniest smile on her face. What was she smiling about? Riddle got a twist in his chest at the fact that someone or something had made her happy. It should be me.