Chapter 3
"Hermione, who is that boy looking at you?" Elspeth asked with an arch in her voice that meant nothing good. She usually talked like this when Hermione refused to let her copy her homework. Hermione wasn't afraid of her, but nasty things happened to people who opposed or displeased Elspeth Reginald. They were climbing down the steps of Clapton Girls' Academy, and Elspeth was looking straight across the road at a figure leaning against a lamppost.
Tom.
Hermione recognized him even before looking. His presence had a way of disturbing the peace of the sky and the leaves and the short walk between the school and the street. Her universe was always fraught with danger.
"Oh, that's…that's my brother."
Even after two years of forced kinship, it felt wrong to spell it out. It sounded like a bad word, the kind that was scribbled on the back of a park bench. So far, the girls at school had not been very keen to hear about the orphan sibling. She would've liked for it to remain that way, but seeing as he was charged with walking her home, that was about to change. For better or worse.
Ten was a cruel age for a child. Half-formed, growing, yet stilted, he or she was stuck in the purgatory of pubescence. Not Tom. Never Tom. He already looked grown-up. He was only shrunk, waiting for the right moment to sprout out of the ground and take charge of his own body.
Dark curls of hair fell into his eyes, hooding him from the world. He was handsome, in a wrong time, in a wrong place. An awful kind of handsome, but handsome all the same.
And Hermione could sense that Elspeth was staring at him like he was a prized object.
"What's he doing here, then?"
"We're going home together," Hermione explained uneasily.
"Oh…he's so sweet. Wish I had a brother. You're so lucky, Granger."
Hermione couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips. Take him, Elspeth, please. He's all yours.
"You should introduce me. We should all walk together," Elspeth suggested with an authoritative toss of her head.
Hermione considered saying no and risk incurring the girl's wrath. But then she thought better of it. She had never seen Tom with other children. She wondered if he could keep up the façade with someone his age. It was worth trying.
"Sure. Be my guest."
She could already see the penumbra coming over Tom's features as both she and Elspeth crossed the street towards him. Good, she thought vindictively.
"Tom, this is my classmate, Elspeth," Hermione began quickly, leaving him no chance to talk his way out of it. "Elspeth, this is my brother, Tom Riddle."
She made sure she pronounced the last name quite clearly. No mistake about his belonging. She was not sorry. Only she knew what she would have to bear when they got home.
Tom's eyes flared with malice, a red film barely concealed by a poised, blank face. Hermione waited with bated breath.
"Hello, Elspeth. It's nice to meet you. Will you shake hands?"
Tom Riddle offered his hand quite amicably. Hermione snorted to herself. He sounded like an old man. Of course, he was playing nice now, but very soon…
Elspeth gave a faint reply and extended her palm. Riddle did not flinch. He grabbed her hand and held it in his own, without shaking it. Hermione saw him apply soft pressure to her fingers. It looked as if he was weighing a precious charge. Elspeth was perturbed. She wanted her hand back, but then again, she didn't. Tom flashed her a cold, but radiant smile. Elspeth blushed to the very roots of her hair.
"You're very pretty. Sorry! I know boys aren't allowed to say such things," Tom spoke quickly, making a convincing display of rueful shyness.
"Oh! That's – thank you. Boys are so immature, aren't they?" Elspeth replied, very much flustered. The blush was turning a nasty maroon.
Hermione watched the scene unfolding before her with revulsion and fascination. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but Tom had nothing to gain by befriending her schoolmate. Adults were necessary, but children his age were expendable. Sooner or later, his true colours would come out.
"Elspeth is walking with us," Hermione intervened sensibly.
"Just up to Downing street," Elspeth confessed, absorbed by Tom.
It had only taken two minutes. Hermione sighed to herself. Maybe something interesting would happen on the road. Maybe - just maybe - Tom would betray himself a little.
But who would notice?
Only her.
"Well, isn't there a saying about the more the merrier? Shall we?" Tom urged with cheerful politeness.
The three turned left down the road and the red-stoned Academy disappeared from view. Elspeth insinuated herself next to Tom. They walked a little ahead of Hermione, which was actually very convenient for her. She could be alone with her thoughts and free of Tom. These days, that was her idea of heaven.
It was far too early to hope, but if Tom had such a draw on Elspeth, surely he could charm the other girls too. Maybe they wouldn't have to walk alone very often. Maybe…
Elspeth was obviously taken with Tom already. She was buoyantly telling him about the Academy and her family. And anybody who knew Elspeth also knew she was rarely 'buoyant'. She would enjoy spending time with the demon boy. He was well-behaved with her.
Hermione was oddly disappointed, though. She had hoped he would be less in control around children. She had thought he would make a mistake. There was still time for that, but by the looks of it, they were getting on well, or at least Tom was nodding his head politely while Elspeth talked her mouth off.
She's a nice girl, Hermione thought, when she likes someone. But he doesn't like anyone. I know it.
At length, she removed a book from her schoolbag and started flipping through it surreptitiously. Its covers were hidden by a non-descript leather jacket. She had got it from a girl in year 8 whose father was a historian. It had been an exchange; Hermione had written her an essay on The Three Musketeers and the girl had given her a very special book. The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, by Sir James George Frazer. Only the first volume in an anthology of the occult. A terrible, wondrous thing. Hermione's breath still hitched in her throat whenever she read about the strange rituals and the unseemly things people did for power. It turned her blood cold when she read about human sacrifice, but it also made her heart beat faster. It turned her blood even colder to know that she could… do some of the things these tribes sought with tooth and nail.
What did that say about her, or Tom? Words like blasphemy and savage echoed in the chambers of her head. Shaman and sorcerer also dwelled somewhere in a dark crevice of her consciousness. But there was a special one, a special title. And she was deadly afraid of it. Wi…
Every time she thought about it, she just wanted to shut her mind off and read more.
"Hermione? Didn't Mum say something about getting her some cleaning soda?"
At first she did not register the voice or where it was coming from. It was such a mundane sentence in comparison to what she was reading. Then she looked up and Tom was standing right before her, so close that his chest was touching her book. She snapped it shut quickly. She really should have been more careful. Elspeth was a good distraction but Tom was ever watchful. She couldn't tell how much he had seen, but his face betrayed nothing. It was smooth and innocent.
"Sorry?"
"She specifically told me not to forget. Come on, you know the type she likes. Elspeth, do excuse us. We'll be right back."
Hermione only managed to see half of Elspeth nervous smile as she was dragged into a small apothecary. Her senses were flooded with Tom as he pulled her after him to the back of the shop. There, between rows of ointments and funny-smelling jars, he pressed her up against the wooden shelves. Gone was the innocence. No trace of gentleness in his movements. But Hermione was not all that surprised. She was only momentarily dazed by their proximity.
"Get rid of that bint or I'll make her swallow her own tongue."
The first thought that ran into her head was What's a bint? Nothing good probably.
She should have been more worried about the second part of his statement.
"If you're talking about Elspeth, she's a good friend and I suggest you behave. You've done it so far."
Tom sneered. "Good friend. Your lies are bigger than your front teeth."
Hermione put a hand to her mouth. "My teeth are none of your business, and anyway, you can't make her swallow her tongue."
"Oh, can't I?" he smirked impishly.
"No," she replied, trying hard to believe her own words. "No matter how strong you think you are, you can't do that." Yet. "Just act normal and she'll go away. And by normal, I mean stop trying to charm her."
Tom scoffed. "It's not my fault everyone is a gullible idiot."
"But it is your fault for leading them on! If you hate people so much, why do you want them to like you?" she asked perplexed.
She could've sworn she saw a dim, sad flicker in his eyes, but it was gone before she had the chance to register it properly.
"What a stupid question. Everyone wants people to like them. When they like you, they do things for you; they give you what you want. Stop being a daft little girl."
"If I'm a daft little girl, why'd you run into this shop like a coward?" Hermione challenged.
Tom's countenance turned foul. She had trodden on eggshells and they had broken.
He grabbed her wrist roughly and twisted it painfully, until she almost moaned. But Hermione would not give him the satisfaction. She gritted her teeth and looked up into his dead eyes.
"You want her to leave? Get rid of her yourself, Riddle."
Tom's lips curved into a terrifying smile. "Is that a challenge?"
Hermione's heart stopped beating. His eyes turned inwardly, as if he was already thinking of ways to remove Elspeth Reginald.
Hermione shook her head.
"I meant you should get rid of her with words. Preferably kind ones."
"It doesn't take a rough word to make someone scream," he commented matter-of-factly. "It only takes a special way of saying it."
Hermione bit her lip in frustration. "Enough. You can't do anything harmful. If you hurt her, the police will find out. Her parents will track you down. You'll go to jail. And your life will be over."
Tom cocked his head to the side. "You'd be on cloud nine, wouldn't you, Sis?"
Yes, Tom. I'd be so happy to see you where you belong.
Instead, she said, "I'd be happier if you let go of my hand and stopped talking nonsense."
"I'm warning you -"
"And I said get off!" She stepped on his foot hard and pushed him away. Tom winced and cursed under his breath. He had knocked his elbow against a box of laundry powder blue and had got some of it on his sweater.
Hermione couldn't help a small giggle erupting from her lips.
He gave her a black look. "You know you're going to pay."
"Of course. What else should I expect?" Hermione drawled angrily, putting up more of a brave front than she felt. Because at home, the walls couldn't protect her.
"Tell your friend to piss off, or you'll suffer."
Hermione felt bile rise up in her throat. She didn't like this sort of language. She had heard it in passing, while driving in the car with her dad. Someone on the street would shout something obscene and she'd try to forget it. Where had Tom learned such things?
And then, a rather brilliant idea struck her.
"Give it your best. But I'll ask Elspeth to walk with us every day. I'm sure she'd just love it."
Tom narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't."
"I don't have much to lose."
"You're bluffing."
"I'm not. And I'll extend her the invitation…unless we reach an agreement. For example, you leave me alone for three months."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "You're not honestly trying to bargain with me."
Hermione lifted her chin in defiance. "And what if I am? Do you accept?"
Tom's face twitched dangerously. "One month."
"Three," she repeated adamantly.
"One."
"Three."
"One."
Hermione heaved a sigh. Better something than nothing. "Fine. Do we have a deal?"
Tom inclined his head an inch. It was good enough for her. Hermione didn't dare smile or revel in the glory. She now had to think of a way to drive away one of the most popular girls in school.
Her 'darling brother' nudged her in the ribs.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Cleaning soda, remember?"
"That took you forever!" Elspeth exclaimed disapprovingly, but in good fashion, she smiled at Tom and waved the whole thing off, although Hermione knew from experience how much she hated waiting.
"I'm sorry, Elspeth. Hermione loves to browse."
Hermione shot him a look.
"Well you do, Sis."
Elspeth saw that Tom was carrying a rather heavy bottle in a paper bag. "Here, let me help."
Hermione doubled up. Elspeth Reginald, helping! Someone call the Red Cross. She didn't know what to think of this new side of her. She wished Elspeth could be this nice all the time. Why did people show their good sides to someone as awful as Tom?
"Thank you, but you needn't bother. Actually, I think you'd better go your own way, Elspeth," Tom said in a distressed voice.
Hermione snapped her head up. What was he doing?
"What do you mean?"
"Please, don't be upset. It's just that Hermione told me you're not very nice to her at school and I'd rather not be friends with someone who doesn't like my sister."
He said it all in such an honest, heartfelt manner that even Hermione had to give him credit for it. That is, if she remembered to close her mouth. The shock had rendered her speechless.
"What? No! That's not true! Gra – I mean, Hermione, why would you say that?" Elspeth protested, growing red for entirely different reasons now.
"Elspeth, Tom exaggerated, that's not what I said at all –"
"Come on, 'Mione. She deserves to know you don't like her. And why should you, if she's not being nice?"
Hermione wanted to sock him until she erased that stupid smug face. She wanted to pummel him right there in the street. She didn't care what anyone would say.
"I do like you, Elspeth. Tom is lying, because he doesn't want to walk with you –"
But as soon as she said the words, she realized she had just made it worse.
Elspeth looked like she was about to cry. "That's awful, Hermione! You're awful! I never wanted to walk with you anyway!"
"Don't blame her, Elspeth. I'm the one who caused the argument, I just think we should all be honest," Tom said, putting on a regretful mien.
"It's not you, Tom. I've always known Hermione is jealous of me. Well, fine then! See you at school, Granger."
Hermione realized what those last words meant. See you at school…
Oh, God.
With that, Elspeth turned around and stomped in the opposite direction, brushing off what may have been tears from her eyes.
When they were alone once again, Tom tapped her on the shoulder.
"Very sensitive that one, isn't she?"
"You – you horrible little –" Hermione began in a fit of anger. "Do you know what you've done?!"
Tom laughed. "Obviously. What? Did you really think I could go a month without torturing you? This way, I can have my cake and eat it too."
"You didn't have to drag her into this!"
"You did, when you introduced her."
"You are vile! You don't deserve family or friends! What you really deserve is to go back to that orphanage!"
Tom stopped laughing.
"A little late for that."
"You think you're safe because it's been two years?" she replied coldly, fury guiding her words. "They'll pack your bags and send you off once they realize what you are."
Tom was eerily calm. "Don't make threats you can't fulfill."
"I don't have to, Tom. You'll do it to yourself. One day, you'll show them. You can't fake it forever."
Tom chuckled, releasing a short breath of air. He pinched her chin in faux-affection.
"That's all right. I have an outlet. I can be myself with you, Hermione."
She shivered with revulsion. "And what makes you think I'll always be around? Soon, you'll be sent to boarding school and I'll get rid of you."
Tom parted his lips briefly. His handsome face took on a strange, detached air. The lights were on, but no one was home.
"Oh, don't lose any sleep on that. I'll find a way. I'll find you."
Hermione flinched. "You won't. You'll be miles away. And when I'm old enough, I'll move to another country and we'll never see each other again."
Tom cast a glance down the road and shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
"Doesn't matter what you'll do. I'll find you."
Hermione scoffed, but it was a poor performance. She knew about curses and what they could do to people. They could ruin lives. The books of the occult said the curse could be a human person. And maybe that's what he was.
The walk to the house was relatively quiet after that. Hermione felt bad about Elspeth, but altogether worse about herself. She hated Tom, there was no doubt about that. She had hated him from the beginning, but every day, her hate grew exponentially. He was constantly finding new ways to make her life impossible. And now, Elspeth would do just that at school.
Perhaps the only way to get rid of this awful curse was to perform a human sacrifice, like in Sir James George Frazer's books.
But the only person she knew who'd have the foul courage to do such thing was walking next to her.
Afternoons at home without her parents were a test of endurance. Tom had her for himself for three whole hours. In that infinite amount of time, Hermione could only tiptoe around the edge and hope she wouldn't fall. Sometimes, she fought back. Other times, she tried to ignore him. The latter infuriated him more than the former. Usually, if he was in a good mood, he'd go along with whatever strategy she had chosen, until it became an exhausting game of cat and mouse. The disturbing thing was, he played the mouse sometimes.
Her parents thought it was natural, healthy sibling rivalry. When they came home, they only found the few, scattered remnants of a fight. Sometimes, they found no remains of an altercation, but Hermione would greet them at the door and try and tell them what had happened without much success. She usually started well.
"Tom wouldn't let me do my homework."
"What did he do?"
"He kept talking about this stupid snake he found in the back yard. He wanted me to touch it."
"I just wanted 'Mione to meet my pet snake. Is that so bad? He's not poisonous, I promise. I'd never hurt her," Tom would defend himself with big, sad eyes.
Truly, he wanted her to do more than touch it. And she could not tell her parents, because they would most likely laugh at the idea, but he wanted her to listen to the snake. Because apparently the snake could talk to him.
He was dead serious.
"The snake told me how you're going to die."
"Stop it! It did not."
"It's a he, and he said you're going to drown. You're going to get water in your lungs and sink to the depths of the ocean."
Hermione knew he'd only gotten this idea because some weeks before, she had fallen asleep in the bathtub and had woken up crying and sputtering water. But all the same, no one liked being told they'd drown.
"Tell your stupid snake he's not going to live that long if he keeps talking that way," she countered viciously.
Tom laughed. "I'd like to see you try."
Hermione didn't really believe there was any snake, either way. He had probably just found a worm, or something equally disgusting.
But one afternoon, she and Tom were taking down the dried clothes from the laundry rack outside when she saw something slither in the laundry basket. It took her a couple of moments to figure it out. She was sure he had put it there.
She didn't scream. It wasn't a very big snake. It was, in fact, small and rather weak-looking. Still, it gave her chills, the way it slinked and hissed. She dropped the table cloth and stepped back.
"Don't be rude, 'Mione. Say hello," Tom beckoned behind her.
Hermione closed her eyes. "You're being ridiculous. I told you snakes don't understand language."
Tom approached the serpent and crouched down. She couldn't hear much of what he was saying, but it sounded like he was…hissing? She wanted to laugh. Was he really trying to talk to it?
"You're wasting your time –"
But before she could finish the sentence, the snake started rising up from the laundry basket. She had once seen prints of a magic show in one of her mother's magazines. A man in a turban played the flute to a cobra and the cobra rose into the air, dancing. This was nothing like that. It was stranger. Because the snake rose and blinked and looked straight at her. And then, it bowed its head.
Tom smiled serenely. "See? He's got more manners than you."
Hermione froze. Her fists shook with the pain of clenching her fingers. She felt sick to her stomach.
"It's a trick," she said quickly.
"A very good one, I imagine," Tom said triumphantly. He hissed once more to the snake and the creature slithered down from the basket and started gliding towards her.
Hermione stepped back. "What is it doing?"
"Getting to know you," Tom replied with a devilish smirk.
She gulped. This wasn't a trick. It was one of the horrible, special things the demon boy could do. Things that she, too…No.
"Fine. I believe you and your stupid snake. Now tell him to back off."
"He won't bite…if you stand still," Tom murmured softly, almost fondly.
"Tell him to leave me alone or I'll hurt him," she threatened, growing warm with anticipation and fear.
"He'll get angry if you do that. I wouldn't make him angry," he advised sinisterly.
Hermione scowled. "It's just a small snake. He can't really harm me."
"Well…I can make him bite your throat. That'll sting you quite a bit. But if you do what I say, he won't do anything."
The snake was now advancing more quickly. He had reached her leather black shoes. He was circling her with some mysterious design. Hermione swallowed.
"Have it your way."
She was going to stomp her feet on the ground to scare the creature off. And then she was going to pick up the table cloth and smother it, until its tail stopped wriggling. The books didn't just speak of human sacrifice. There was animal sacrifice too. She would hate it, but the poor thing was better off without Tom's control. It wasn't her fault, after all.
What came out instead was vastly different.
A strange current ran through her, like the time she had put her fingers in the electric socket. She hit the ground with her feet and the whole back yard vibrated. A wave of energy bent the grass in half and threw the snake several feet into the air.
The creature collapsed on the ground several moments later.
Hermione ran.
She didn't look back to see Tom's reaction, or check if the snake was dead. She turned around and fled inside the house, heart pounding, throat dry as dust. She climbed up the stairs two at a time, lungs burning, feet stepping on needles. She needed to get to her room, needed to lock the door behind her, needed to keep him out…and pray…or cry…or…
She was not fast enough.
He was on her before she reached her room. Fingers knotting in her hair, pulling hard. He pushed her up against the wall. For a moment, she saw stars.
"Thief," he spat, his face contracted in rage. It was a rare thing to see him so discomposed. She didn't cherish the sight.
"You slimy little thief," he repeated with cold fury. "You think you can steal my magic and use it for your own benefit, do you?"
Hermione gaped.
"What –"
The blood rushed to her ears. Magic, magic, magic… It was out in the open.
"Don't play dumb. You're my inferior in every way, but you're clever, I'll give you that. Now, tell me how you're taking my magic and I won't crush you into tiny pieces."
His whole body was focused on pinning her down, making it hard for her to breathe. His hands reached to her throat.
"What if I have my own – my own magic?" she countered, feeling dizzy with the rush of adrenaline.
"Impossible."
"Why?" she shot back, growing more anxious and angry by the minute. "Why do you get to be the brilliant and amazing one?! I deserve to have magic just as much as you! No! I deserve it more, because I'd use it right! I actually care about this - this power. You just use it for your own whims. You don't respect it, which only goes to show you're the inferior one!"
Hermione would have been horrified by Tom's deathly glare. The light in his eyes was scalding white. An anger that went beyond the physical. But she was distracted, consumed by her own words and what they implied. She hadn't voiced these feelings before. She was terrified and elated. She wanted to shout and sing, but she also wanted to hide in shame. She was happy.
I have my own magic.
But her wandering thoughts were sorely curtailed when she felt pressure on her windpipe. His touch was mean and cold and cruel. Long fingers breaking bone. The air was growing thin in her lungs.
You're going to get water in your lungs and sink to the depths of the ocean.
She panted and choked. "Maybe…you're… the thief…stealing my magic."
Tom's grip froze. His movements slacked for a moment.
"No. I had my powers long before I met you."
"But – but they weren't as strong, were they?"
She had no idea what had compelled her to say this. Madness, sheer madness. In fact, the thought had only now been born in her head. A malevolent spirit had planted it there.
No. No spirit. Just me.
The conviction was so strong inside her that she almost smiled, although she was choking.
Tom released her, stepping back in a daze. His face was marked by her words.
You were weaker before me.
Hermione had to lean against the wall in order not to fall. Her knees were weak. She coughed and wheezed, but did not falter. She regained her breath by degrees.
She waited for Tom to rail against her, and make her regret her words. She waited for a denial. But – but she soon saw he was not going to do anything.
His rage was gone, his eyes bereft of spark. But his face was white. And he was trembling.
"Tom?"
Her voice was soft. Perhaps it shouldn't have been, but he was shaking badly. He didn't answer. It was almost as if she weren't there. But of course she was, because she was quite sure she was the reason he was shaking. He turned around wordlessly and walked to his room. He closed the door behind him and turned the lock.
Hermione blinked.
She touched her throat gingerly. His faint imprints were still there. But the monster had locked himself away from his victim. He was afraid.
Hermione stepped on the carpet, her feet not making a sound. She walked down the forbidden hallway, the path she had always dreaded. She reached his closed door. Behind it, the demon boy sat and wept. At least, that was the image she was entertaining in her head.
She touched the wood with a strange, unfathomable delight.
I have my own magic, she thought once more with euphoria. And I'm never going to give it up.
A/N:
Hello! Thanks a lot to the many people who read and reviewed the last chapter, I was really pleasantly surprised! It's very encouraging to get feedback, so I'm quite grateful. Thanks to anon reviewers Guest1 (I think she showed a bit of that this chapter & thanks!), Anon (very interesting points again, thank you :) yes, there is a Hogwarts in this story and they'll soon be going there. Tom will definitely have a certain effect on most of her friends/classmates/acquaintances, if this chapter is anything to go by, and he will choose the right time when to scare them), Guest2, Guest3 (yey for creepy), Guest4, real talk (great to hear the pacing isn't too slow! and yes, updated).
I hope you keep reading and sharing your opinions. Once again, the pacing is a bit slow for a reason, and I hope you don't mind. They are going to leave home soon, but until then :)