A/N: I can't even begin to express how much I missed writing! I have some down times nowadays. Now that I'm not working 50 hrs a week and have essentially turned into a house wife, I have more time on my hands to write.
***intense eye roll*** yes, I forgot to tag Tom and Hermione as the actual pairing in the summary. Even without, I though it seemed to be pretty obvious this is a Tomione, but apparently not. Maybe that's just because I'm the author. So, my bad.
Also, I do not write fluffy Tom. If you want a fluffy Tom...Lordddddd, you had best turn around right now. I don't believe in fluffy Tom, and I do not like him. Of course, there will be romance, or I wouldn't have put that in the tag. But its farrrr from typical.
This WILL be rated M for a reason! I like lemons & I write torture as well. Of course, I do not agree with abusive relationships and you should never stay in one, no matter the reason. This is purely fictional.
Lady Riddll: You're the best, you need to know that. I can't even begin to express how wonderful it is to have such a loyal reader! Perhaps I'll continue my other two stories because you asked! Though, I do need to find my muse for them again. I had big plans for them, but its been so long, I don't want to ruin it! No apologies, your English is better than many native speakers...trust me : ) I get a marriage proposal? I'm totally flattered xD at least, I hope that's what you said. Its going to be highly awkward if not LOL.
Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! As always, excuse any errors. I don't have a Beta.
Chapter Three: Twin Flames
Baby, watch as I step into flames for you We were on fire
Baby, watch me combust and explode for you
Baby, watch as I burn
Baby, watch as I burn for you
One last time
A frequency of me and you
We were on fire
One flame bursting into two
We were on fire
We watched the whole world burn away
We were on fire
I was you and baby you were me
You crawled into these flames with me
Hermione had never been so glad to be sorted into Ravenclaw. Though she missed Gryffindor and she felt that she was a Gryffindor at heart, it was so much easier to be close to Harry and help him in Ravenclaw. It was proof that she made a good decision, seeing as her and Harry had barely got together with Ron very much over the week. It was just too hard, they were so separated. Not to mention, Ron was enjoying himself WAY too much. He had a following of girls that followed him around and hung on his every southern word.
Riddle, however, had ignored her existence for a week. She did not let her guard down; not trusting him to attack her the second she relaxed—she wasn't about to relax. He didn't look at her—didn't speak. Nothing. Not that she was complaining, she was bloody grateful. She watched him, in what she hoped was a discreet way, looking for anything else odd. No doubts he noticed her watchful eye, but didn't show he noticed.
She swore she could practically hear 'Lacrimosa' by Mozart playing in her head whenever she looked his way. The ominous death march should be his theme song when he arrogantly walked through the castle...Merlin, was he handsome though. A part of her felt bad for thinking so, but she wasn't blind. He was an evil, horrible, wretched person—but that didn't mean he was physically ugly. He charmed all the professors with precision, wooing all the girls around him with very little effort—or, no effort really when it came to girls. Girls tripped all over themselves to get near him, yet they never seemed to speak to him. They just blushed and watched him with dreamy eyes. Hermione watched, but did neither of the things the other girls did. He was almost constantly under her critical eye, as she watched him intently—looking for black veins or the "darkness" Harry had been referring to. There were many times she wanted to drop-kick him off his metaphorical high horse. Perhaps it was his whole, 'purebloods are better' attitude that made her want to resort to muggle combat, because she never wanted to punch someone so much in her life—even more than Malfoy, but she'd already made that come true.
She'd yet to see—but by Merlin, was she watching. She watched how he always had oatmeal with strawberries in the morning; how he always seemed to pick orange juice over pumpkin juice. He was always expressionless, but there was always a slight crease in his dark, elegant brows when he was reading or listening to a lecture in class. He tapped his long fingers against the desk when he was annoyed or impatient—he subtly kept a watchful eye on everything going on around him. His dark gaze was ever watchful, quietly observing his surroundings, almost acting as though he'd served in the military and was constantly making plans if something were to happen. His appearance? His robes were always impeccable, as was his hair and just his entire appearance. She'd even noticed his teeth, which were perfectly straight and white. It was almost annoying to her, someone so evil shouldn't look that perfect. Though, she did remember her mother telling her that the devil walked the earth as the most handsome man alive.
She cringed.
No matter the question, he knew the answer. In every class. A few times (not many, mind you)...she didn't know the answer; probably because texts had changed. But Tom Riddle's large, long-fingered hand was always in the air, answering with a questioning tone, as though he wasn't sure of the answer...as though he wasn't aware of his own brilliance.
She called him a prat in her mind many times a day.
She watched him through squinted eyes as he dabbed his thin, light pink lips with a napkin. He elegantly sat it down and reached for the orange juice past the pumpkin, making her smirk. Yet, she felt like some kind of...stalker. No, she wasn't following him and lurking behind tapestries and hiding in his bedroom closet, but she felt like she might as well have been. It was like she was some kind of weirdo obsessed with the Dark Lord. She was glad he was at least handsome, it made him more bearable to look at than his future appearance. Though, his almost 24/7 emotionless face made looking at him disturbing at times.
"You're totally obsessed with him." Wiley said as she sat down, making Hermione's eyes widen and snap away with a flush.
"I am not!" she hissed at the brown haired girl.
"You stare at him constantly-"
"I don't trust him!" she said lowly, looking around.
"Oh, is that why all the girls stare at him?" she asked, shaking her head. "Ohhhh Tom, you're so untrustworthy!" she said dramatically, fluttering her blue eyes.
"Ugh, shut up Wiley." Hermione grumbled. She supposed her friend thinking she had a crush on him wouldn't hurt anything, it gave her an excuse to be looking at him. No one could know her real motive and she watched him too much for people close to her not to notice. If they thought that she – that she – liked him, then maybe no one would point fingers at her if he turned up dead. It was actually better if people thought she was infatuated with the Head boy, yet the thought of anyone thinking she had a crush on him made her gag reflex want to react.
"Oh, its Wiley now is it?" she asked, smirking. "what happened to Jennifer?"
"Your name went out the door with your Tom Riddle beliefs," Hermione clarified, taking a deep breath and wanting to die on the spot. "I mean..." she shifted uncomfortably. "he's so...er—he's so handsome," she turned red, but not for the reasons that Jennifer would assume. "of course I...like him."
Jennifer just grinned at her like a Cheshire cat.
"I hate your guts." Hermione smirked at the girl, who laughed.
Hermione's eyes traveled back to the table, choking up her pumpkin juice when she saw Tom Riddle staring at her. She bit her lip, staring back with a worried expression. He hadn't so much as acknowledged her existence in about a week now. Why was he looking now? The feeling that he could actually hear them struck her again, but surely, that couldn't be the case? If it was, she'd just go ahead and fling herself off the astronomy tower now. But she supposed he already thought she fancied him, with the way she stared at him.
She never thought she'd somewhat wish she was a boy.
His emotionless face was disturbing, but it got twice as disturbing as he started to eat at the same time. Her face paled and she looked away, feeling as though he had finally decided to act on his threat to her and he wanted her to know it.
Eating slowly, she swallowed, taking a deep breath before looking back over at him.
He was still staring.
Fuck.
Today was Saturday and most students would be going to the village. Of course, her, Ron and Harry couldn't go. They had no parents or guardians to sign the papers. She supposed that she could ask Dumbledore, but he'd done enough for them.
She'd mostly planned to stay in the library with Harry and Ron. She had a sinking feeling that she needed to keep company today, though. She forced herself not to look back over at him as students got up to leave for the village. After a while, Harry sat down next to her.
She smiled up at him, which he returned.
"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked, looking around.
"I saw him last with Rachael Patil." he said, rolling his eyes. "doesn't matter, ready?" he asked.
"Um—yeah, lets go," she said, sitting her goblet down and taking Harry's hand. It was still weird looking at him in the Slytherin green robes.
As they walked to the library, she was extra tense. She just had a bad feeling, though the fact that Harry was next to her made her feel slightly better...her nerves were still on edge.
They went to the library and sat in the back, she wasn't surprised to find it completely empty.
"Hermione," Harry whispered. "I was thinking of a plan-"
Hermione instantly put her finger on his lips, making him give her a confused expression as she shook her head quickly with wide eyes.
"What?" he said, muffled by her finger as she removed it.
"I don't..." she trailed off quietly. "I don't have a good feeling, is all."
He frowned, scratching his head. "We could go...there."
Her frown deepened. No, that wasn't a good idea either. She had a nagging feeling about Riddle today and he didn't need to know that they knew about the room of requirement.
She just shook her head, looking down at her potions book.
"Later." she said quietly.
As they sat in the library, her eyes darted around at every little noise. She pulled the sleeve of her turtleneck gray sweater in a ball in the palm of her hand, squeezing it every few minutes.
"Evans."
Hermione paled at the voice behind her, becoming very still.
Harry's eyes flashed as he looked behind her.
"Yes, Riddle?" he said lowly. "what can I do for you?"
"Black is looking for you."
Hermione's eyes widened, turning to look at the handsome Head boy. He had abandoned the outer robes, his tall form standing regally as his eyes flashed darkly in her direction.
"Ah, well..." Harry cleared his throat. "thanks for telling me."
"I believe he's in the Slytherin common room." Riddle continued, sounding too persuasive and innocent for her liking.
He was trying to get rid of Harry so he could attack her, she was sure of it.
"I'll find him later," Harry said, now sounding suspicious as he glanced at Hermione's face. "I'm busy…school...stuff." he said, holding up a book.
Riddle's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. Hermione was very conscious of the fact that his yew wand was hanging limply in his hand at his side. Her hand curled around her vine wand, looking over to see Harry subtly doing the same thing.
She wasn't sure what Riddle could say to get around this without looking completely obvious, but she knew he was thinking. The slight crease in his brow was there – the one that was always on his emotionless face when he was thinking or reading.
He glanced around the library subtly, but Hermione noticed and clenched her wand tightly, ready to defend herself.
"Very well then," he said smoothly, shocking her. "good day Evans – Granger." his eyes setting on her as they swirled with darkness.
"Thanks, good day." Harry answered, but Hermione said nothing, continuing to stare at him suspiciously.
He turned his heel and left the library.
"Tell me what's going on, now." Harry instantly said when he was gone, his expression looking serious.
Hermione nodded towards the door, shaking her head. She didn't think he had super sonic hearing, but she wasn't about to risk him overhearing. They couldn't risk him hearing anything and they had to be very careful.
Harry gave her a "are you serious?" expression, looking behind her skeptically.
He shook his head, looking down at his book, but she could tell that he wasn't absorbing a single word. Not that she could blame him, she couldn't either.
"There you are!"
Hermione turned, looking surprised when she saw Alphard Black come around the corner, smiling widely at them. Had Riddle been serious? Was he really just telling Harry – no, she wasn't wrong. Riddle wasn't anyone's messenger—he had other motives, she was positive of that and she didn't need to doubt herself.
"Hello beautiful," Alphard winked at her, making her flush. "did you miss me? I missed you-"
"Seriously Black," Harry interrupted, rolling his eyes. "can't you leave her be?"
"What?" Black said, looking affronted. "I'm a complete gentleman-"
"What did you need?" Harry asked, barely stopping himself from smiling in amusement. It was easy to do with Alphard Black. He was the regular class clown.
"Nothing really," Black shrugged, sitting down. "I just wanted to talk to you when I found out you weren't going today."
"About what?" Harry asked, looking at him curiously.
"Just in general mate," Black rolled his eyes. "I need a reason to want to chat with you now?"
"I suppose not..." Harry trailed off, looking suspicious.
She looked down at her book, seeing she was at the end. She closed it, standing and started to go get a new one. Harry immediately stood and Hermione shook her head.
"I'm not leaving the library," she laughed, "I'm just getting another book."
Harry nodded his head, sitting down slowly and giving her a look that said, "do not leave this library."
She smiled, walking away and staying close by, walking around the nearby isles. Most she had already read, as they were there in her time. For the most part, it was all outdated books, which she knew to have information that had been updated in her time.
"Hmm..." she tapped her foot, thinking a muggle song she'd heard back home stuck in her head. She browsed the shelves, singing the song in her head.
"You and me, we used to be together, everyday together..always..." she sang very lowly, frowning as she repeatedly outdated texts. "It looks as though you're letting go,
and if it's real, well I don't want to know." she hummed lightly, picking up an advanced potions book, frowning when she saw instructions that she knew was more complicated than how you did it in the future. She sighed dramatically and forcefully put it back on the shelf, the corner of her eye drifting over to the restricted section. It was near and she could still keep an eye on Harry and Black if she just...she frowned – no, she should just wait.
"Don't speak I know just what you're saying, so please stop explaining, don't tell me cause it hurts..." she said lowly, getting down on her knees to look at the bottom shelf.
She froze when she felt the unmistakable feeling of a wand being jabbed in her neck.
"It couldn't possibly hurt already." a cold voice said lowly, mockingly.
"Wand, now..." he hissed as she slowly stood, gripping her wand tightly as she panicked, considering her options. His wand was jabbed in her neck, she could take her chances and turn on him, trying to curse him before he could her, but it wasn't likely. More than anything, she couldn't figure out how he'd reentered the library without her noticing, or that he snuck up on her...she knew her level of awareness was pretty good, so how did he-
"I won't repeat myself." he hissed in a cold voice.
Not bloody likely, she thought to herself, getting ready to shoot a bombarda on the bookshelf. If she wasn't in the right position to attack him, didn't mean she couldn't attack things around them.
A split second had passed and another until she started to speak the spell, but it seemed to be a half a second too late. She instantly felt her mind go blissfully blank. She slowly turned around, looking into the face of the most handsome man she'd ever seen. A slow smile curled on her dreamy face as she gazed at him. Everything was alright, all she had to was follow him and she'd be okay.
Why would you do that?
She frowned, her steps towards him halting and making him turn to look at her. A surprised looked flashed across his handsome face. Suddenly, she felt the urge to follow him much more urgently. It would be alright, the voice said so—no, it wouldn't be alright—but it would be, the handsome boy wouldn't hurt her—what if he did?
Her face was scrunched as she swayed back and forth, in between beginning to follow and backing away.
She heard a hiss of frustration and felt the overwhelming need to move forward, so she did. But she stopped multiple times, her mind going through the same turmoil. At one point, she even started backing away from him. She desperately tried to wonder where the handsome boy was taking her, but every time the thought came forward, it was shoved down as he led her down corridors and through a door.
Feeling the strong urge to sit, she did so, only hesitating momentarily. She put her hands behind her after another moment of mild hesitation.
Almost as if a fog cleared, her mind was back to normal. Panic soured through her system as she saw herself in what appeared to be some older classroom, where she was currently bound to a chair by ropes. Her eyes narrowed in front of her, seeing Tom Riddle's tall, lean frame leaning back against some desk. His legs and arms were crossed and he was tapping his yew wand against his upper arm as he stared at her in silence.
"What are you doing?" she asked tersely, being somewhat proud of herself at how steady her voice sounded. Though she didn't feel steady—if the ropes weren't binding her, she knew she'd be shaking. Gryffindor or not, she wasn't a fool. Only a complete idiot wouldn't be afraid of him, especially if you knew what he was – what – not who. Surely, Harry was tearing apart the castle at this point.
He didn't answer, he just looked at her for moments, as though he was contemplating something. Staring into his expressionless, handsome face was starting to become disturbing. She tried not to think about the fact that within a week, she'd gotten herself tied to a chair by young Voldemort. Clearly, she was doing something wrong. Okay, she shouldn't have mouthed off at him, she knew that. But, she had a bit of history of being hot-headed. She'd subconsciously separated Voldemort from Tom Riddle—feeling safer in a classroom setting. She knew she mouthed off to him, but was she seriously the first one? In seven years, not one person mouthed him? Not a single person got tired of his controlling, superior attitude? She doubted that...unless he did this to everyone that disrespected him?
"Its very annoying to cast an Inperius on such a reluctant mind," he mused quietly. "you have surprising resistance to it – I find myself...impressed."
Her heart jumped uncomfortably in her chest, she didn't want him to be impressed by her. Though he was a great wizard, magically, she had no desire to impress him. Now, if she impressed Dumbledore, she would have been filled with pride. But him? A certain disgust flowed through her veins, making her feel sick at her stomach.
Disgust must have shown on her face, because he raised his eyebrow questioningly.
"What do you believe will happen now?" he asked in a quiet, curious voice.
Not that she wanted to give him ideas, but… "Probably torture for mouthing off at you." she bit her lip after she finished speaking, to keep him from seeing it tremble.
He smirked very briefly, pushing himself off the desk and began pacing with his hands behind him back.
"Normally, I would say you were correct..." he mused coldly, looking up towards the ceiling and looking coldly thoughtful. "but, you don't want to experience my cruciatus—intelligent minds are so hard to find, I wouldn't want to waste yours at the risk of breaking it."
She didn't like the sound of that. Did he really believe his cruciatus was THAT powerful? But, did she have pudding in her ears? She shook her head disbelievingly—did he seriously just say he wouldn't torture her because of her mind? She didn't know how to respond, so she kept quiet, pursing her lips and picking at the bonds that tied her hands together.
"I've noticed your watchful eyes," he commented, making her pause as he looking over at her darkly. "at first, of course, I took it as you being another air-headed girl that was hopelessly and annoyingly infatuated with me, but now...I'm not so sure." he tilted his regal head questioningly.
Her stomach dropped. No, she didn't need him to know...anything different. He couldn't know that she was trying to memorize his routines—his actions. She wanted to cry when she realized what she had to do.
"Why not?" she asked, internally cringing. "because...that's what it is." she finished lamely, her face on fire and looking anywhere but him.
He was quiet, and she wished the floor would just open up and swallow her.
"You're lying."
Her head snapped to him, her eyes widening in alarm. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth set in a firm line.
"N-no, I'm not!" she protested without much conviction. "I think you're – you're...really-"
"Stop." he instantly ordered, making her mouth snap shut.
In the next moment, he was directly in front of her, leaning down. Alarmed, she pulled her head back as far as the chair would allow, flinching and looking down, gritting her teeth. In the next moment, she felt his wand tip against her chin, making her flinch again.
"Look at me." he hissed, jerking his wand upwards, making her head and eyes lift to him.
His handsome face was close to hers and for the briefest of moments, her hormones caught up with her and she felt a somewhat dream-like quality enter her gaze. But, it only lasted for moments before her vision cleared, a feeling of disgust entering her veins.
She gasped loudly, moaning in pain when she felt him wordlessly and powerfully charge into her mind. Her whole form trembled at the sheer power of it. She'd practiced with Harry and Ron, but nothing could have prepared her for this. This was a whole new caliber—this was inhuman. Regardless, she desperately tried to throw up her shields, in vain. No normal person could be this much of a master of Legilimency at such a young age—normally, it would be impossible. He shoved into her mind with such a brutal force, she felt as though he would pass out.
Harry was right. There was something deeply wrong—and deeply different with him.
In a last ditch effort, she started focusing on memories that were less dangerous for him to see. He viewed her laughing with Harry and Ron, running around the Weasley's house, shuffling through memories with her mum and dad when she was little—her mom picking up the bushy-haired girl and laughing hysterically. All memories were silent in words, outside of laughter, lest he hear all the apparent British accents. She may be unable to stop him from entering her mind, but she'd do everything in her power to control what he did see.
He violently pulled from her mind, making her gasp and moan in pain again, her head dropping heavily and breathing heavily as she slightly perspired.
Merlin, help me, she thought, her head pounding as she moaned in pain.
She violently flinched when she felt his wand tip under her chin again, pulling her head up to look at him. She gritted her teeth in pain, glaring hatefully at his blank face. An unsure expression flashed across his face as warm waves suddenly traveled down her body, taking a little of her pain away with each passing wave until it was gone. Her eyes widened in shock – what spell – there was no spell that did such a thing! A headache from having your mind entered could not be cured by magic! A pain relief potion could dull the throbbing, but the ache would still be there. But, that didn't bother her nearly as much as the fact he bothered to do the unknown spell in the first place. Why would he stop her pain? Didn't Voldemort revel in pain—the closest thing to love he'd ever known?
Her face kept flashing between astonishment and confusion as he pulled away, removing his wand.
"Clever witch." he said quietly and coldly, as a look flashed across his eyes...and she recognized it. She'd only ever seen that look once before. It was a look he strictly only ever gave Professor Merrythought. It was a mixture of pride, respect and she gulped...greed. He wanted her job, but she wasn't sure what he wanted from her. Surely he suspected she was muggleborn? Actually, the fact that he hadn't even brought up her blood status was amazing to her.
"What do you want from me?" she blurted, unable to stop herself. She wasn't use to being confused by events, but she was highly confused by his behavior and a little more than disturbed.
"Who said I wanted anything from you?" he commented, raising an elegant eyebrow.
Her mouth twitched.
"You watch me because you fear me," he said, ignoring her question as her heart punched her rib cage. "while you are right to do so, it is somewhat unjustified. People who do not know me only ever stare at me because they are jealous, admire my talents or like the way I look..." he trailed off, his eyes flashing. "those that do know me—of course, fear me. The last thing they want to do is stare—they'd much prefer to pretend I don't exist—as they will not risk angering me. Its much safer for them in that way..." he began pacing, tilting his head upwards. The candle light shone across his chiseled face, making him look hauntingly beautiful. "you fall in none of those categories."
He was right and she didn't know what to say. Of course, anyone that knew to fear him would not be looking at him, they would avoid him like the plague. In the future, even his own followers avoided him. They did nothing to bring on his anger. So by default, her behavior didn't really make sense...he was very clever—more so than anyone she'd ever met. She stared to feel as though if she so much breathed in his direction, he could derive something from it; and that thought was highly disturbing.
"Why can't it be both?" she asked, gritting her teeth. "maybe I'm just weird."
He looked over at her sharply, making her pull her head back again. His face twitched lightly, as his eyes flicked down her form. She shifted as much as the binds would allow as his dark gaze tilted back up towards her face. If she were to be completely honest, the young Dark Lord was absolutely nothing like she thought he would be. It wasn't a good thing by any stretch of the imagination—he was still a cold, control freak that was clearly evil. But it wasn't as bad as she had originally thought. This young Dark Lord had—dare she say it—more control than his older self? Or was that false? Then again, she didn't really know how much self-control his older counterpart had… she'd just always pictured him as a deranged maniac, running around screaming killing and torture curses. Perhaps nothing was different, perhaps only her assumption was wrong. Not that Hermione liked to think she was wrong.
"You are weird," he commented, making her eyes narrow. "but to be completely frank, that has little to do with with I'm trying to figure out."
She stared, biting her lip and resisting the urge to childish urge to yell out, 'YOU'RE WEIRD!' what did he get off telling other people they were weird? He needed some serious fucking self clarification. But, no doubt he'd use the word. 'special' not 'weird' to describe himself.
"Don't even get me started on your little boyfriend," he hissed, turning his body to look at her as she froze. "his behavior is annoying more than anything. Though unlike you, he is respectful."
"Its my fault!" she blurted, making him raise an eyebrow. "I – I told him you were...to be feared and he believes everything I say..." she paused. "and he's not my boyfriend." she added for good measure.
"Does he know that?" he raised his eyebrow, his eyes looked briefly amused, but he didn't seem to want an answer as he continued. "I suppose that's not implausible..." he admitted, looking suspicious. "he does seem to hang on your every word, as though it was the word of Merlin."
"He trusts me." he pursed her lips.
"I don't care," he said smoothly. "he doesn't concern me—he was brief mention, nothing more or less. His intelligence and skill is average—at best—he is of no consequence and quite useless."
She had a strong urge to defend Harry, but she knew better. What was she supposed to do? Object and boast about Harry's skill and intelligence? On the off chance the young Dark Lord actually believed her, he would set his sights on Harry...and that was the last thing she needed to happen. If it was between them and the Dark Lord needed to be suspicious of someone, it needed to be her. Not Harry. Never Harry. He was too important to risk.
"Are we just going to chit-chat all day?" she snapped, anger burning deeply inside her. "you violated my mind and such, isn't that enough for one day?"
His eyes flashed in anger, and before she knew it, he was standing upon her. Her hair was suddenly invaded by long fingers as he gripped his harshly, yanking her head back roughly as she gasped painfully. He jabbed his yew wand into her cheek and as she looked at his face—seeing pure evil stare back at her, she wanted to scream in fright.
"Never question my actions," he hissed, pressing his wand more forcefully into her cheek. "just because you hold some intelligence—it will not save you from me," his lip curled, and her eyes widened as she swore she saw a black shadow pass across the whites of his eyes. "watch your tongue, or I'll cut it out." he finished, making her yelp in horror. In all honesty, it was a combination between his threat and the black across the whites—what...what in the name of Merlin was that? She didn't know, but it seemed this whole thing wasn't a complete waste. She had something more to go on...she could research what could possibly turn your eyes black AND briefly your veins. Perhaps they could find some kind of weakness…
She looked bravely into his cold face, blinking and saying nothing. If she wasn't so frightened deep down, she may have even stuck her tongue out at him. But, knowing who he was, she wouldn't be surprised if he literally did cut her tongue out.
His dark eyes flicked over her face for moments, before her relinquished his hold on her hair, backing away. He waved his wand and she flinched, scrunching her eyes. But she was shocked when she felt her binds disappear. She pulled her arms in front of her, rubbing her sore wrists as she looked at him with a confused expression.
