Chapter Four: Awakening the Devil
Tom sat in the infirmary as the Medi-Witch probed and assaulted him with spells and potions. He hated the way she touched him so gently, as she tried to heal his wounds. She hated the way she tsked at him, calling him foolish for rendering himself in such a mess. He hated this woman and he wanted to see her drop dead. In fact, he wouldn't have to deal with this woman if it weren't for those blasted Slytherins who threw him around like a toy. He visibly shudders at the thought as they humiliated him and dehumanized him. He wanted to see all of them die bleeding and screaming…
"Drink this," She commanded softly and Tom visibly scowled. How dare she order him around! Who was this woman? But he took the potion nonetheless. He watched with suspicion as she wove her wand around his wounds and he felt them heal and his skin knit back into place, without a mark to be seen. He watched with mesmerisation. Maybe if he learned that spell he wouldn't have to come here and humiliate himself after being assaulted by those other Slytherins.
"All done," The witch said kindly, her kindness sickened him "Now, you be careful and try not to fall down those moving staircases again." She scolded before Riddle got up and left the Infirmary without another word.
It was the weekend, so he had decided to go outside today. Winter would fall upon them soon enough and he was sure that going out for a stroll in the winter would be more work than leisure. He made sure to avoid all those pesky students. He hated them all. They were all rowdy and obnoxious and they reminded him of monkeys when they gathered together. A tribe of monkeys, he corrected himself bitterly. He walked around. He crunched the leaves and twigs underneath him and reveled at the sound they made. He continued to walk around in the more secluded areas and eventually took out his wand and began performing small spells on them. He made one levitate with a firm:
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
And with a swish and a flick the leaves floated up with ease. It was quite elegant watching them float and dance in the air. They almost looked like small boats by the way they floated.
With another wave of his wand, this time much more aggressive he growled:
"Incendio," And the leaves burst into flames in the air before the flames curled and destroyed them as the ashes tumbled to the ground. He continued on his small walk. Taking out his anger on trees, grass, leaves even a small deer that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Tom growled another:
"Diffindo" Sending a stream of magic that sliced the animal across its body, it yelped in pain and ran off back into the forest. Tom Riddle snarled. It would probably die of infection in a few weeks. It would die slowly and painfully. He imagined the deer squirming and making cries of pain, trying to lick the wound clean only to make it worse.
He kicked a stone out of the way before storming off, throwing small spells around him as he went.
Tom always had a bad habit on taking out his anger on the innocent.
Tom Riddle watched from a distance as the little Gryffindor scribbled on the piece of parchment. He was going to wait until she finished all her homework, then he would speak.
Tom flipped the pages of his book absentmindedly, however his mind stretched out to her. He always noticed that Hermione never spoke when she worked. No matter how much Tom would pry she would always end up drifting away into her studies. He would take pieces of parchement and throw them at her to gain her attention, she would scowl at him for a while before bowing her head to continue working. It was infuriating, really. She always had her nose in a book and he would have to wait for her to speak. She always amused him with her constant batter and witty remarks. He watched as her quill began to scribble faster as she wrote her essay. He noted that whenever she was almost done writing, she would write more furiously and more intensely.
He watched as she wrote down the final sentence before she set down her quill. It took her five minutes to reread everything. Then she gave a small smiled, she gave a soft blow on the parchment to help dry the ink then rolled the parchment back up. She set it aside and opened another book.
"Did you practice any of the spells we learned yet?" Tom said smoothly cutting through the silence
"Of course," Hermione's voice clipped, not lifting her head from her work. "Professor wanted us to have that list of charms he gave us practiced over the weekend,"
Tom only nodded before he flipped to another page. He twirled his wand absentmindedly, he sighed and gazed off into the distance. He was so bored. He looked back at Hermione who was focusing on her homework once again. His eyes narrowed dangerously. Infuriating little witch. He thought.
They sat there for a while. Tom thinking of ways to get Hermione to pull her thoughts away from the pieces of paper in front of her. Maybe he would light them on fire... He grinned when an idea sparked him. And he stopped and sat up. Hermione made no notion that she had noticed.
He looked at one of her extra quills and he flicked his wand and muttered another:
"Wingardium Leviosa," He whispered without Hermione noticing. And the quill began to float and hover above her bushy hair.
"Hermione," He said casually "Can you pass me an extra quill?"
He watched her carefully when Hermione finally looked up from her notes and made to hand him the extra quill. When she found that it wasn't there she quickly looked around. She lifted her notebooks and turned pages to find it. Tom couldn't help but snigger. Finally she looked back up at him with a small frown.
"What did you do with my quill?"
He only answered with a laugh, the first laugh he'd made in a long time. She looked up and saw the quill dancing above her head. Unexpectedly she gave a small laugh. She reached up to pull it down but the quill only flew higher out of her reach.
"Tom," She chastised playfully. She looked back at him defiantly and took out her own wand. "Two can play this game," She pointed it at his book and snarled her own Levitation Spell. Before Tom could catch it, it floated above his head.
They both sniggered as they levitated each other's belongings. Casting different spells, harmless, spells at each other. It was strange watching First Years being able to perform such advanced spells. Tom felt somewhat comfortable knowing that someone else was able to keep up with him. He doubted anyone else in his year could keep up like Hermione did.
"This is a library! Take that outside if you're going to be rowdy," The harsh voice of the stern librarian cut through the children's fun and they immediately stopped as the books, papers and quills tumbled around them. Hermione looked down and her cheeks turned red as she mumbled an apology while Tom remained silent and indifferent. The librarian only frowned before she went back to her desk, muttering incomprehensible words under her breath.
Hermione chanced a glance at Tom who seemed to be growing red from holding in his laughter. Hermione finally gave in a cracked up in giggles who was followed by Tom who let out a soft chuckle, covering his mouth to hide from the angry librarian.
Tom looked at Hermione whose eyes lit up from her laughter. He pondered her for a while and decided that perhaps she didn't have to burn with the rest of the world. He finally decided that he liked her around. Somehow, her mere presence made him less angry…
He was going to keep her.
Hermione slapped Tom's hand away from the boiling cauldron.
"No Tom, those go in after," Hermione hissed as she stirred the cauldron.
"It's already been boiled, Granger, the oak leaves should go in now,"
"Are you daft? They'll ruin the color change. We need to wait until after," Tom snarled something under his breath about Hermione being a bushy-haired, bossy Gryffindor.
While those two were distracted, Malfoy had chosen to get up from his seat and reached over and pushed the vial of oak leaves in discussion to the floor. The vial tipped over and smashed.
The two bickering students were shocked into silence as they stared at the smashed vial.
"What was that for?" Riddle hissed at his fellow Slytherin.
Abraxas Malfoy only smirked.
"What was what for?" He said putting on a show of faux innocence as he sat back down in his seat and continued to work with his partner who gave him small words of encouragement and praise.
"I should push their entire cauldron to the floor, see how he likes it," Riddle snarled under his breath, he eyed them as he noted that they placed in the wrong amount of ingredients and they stirred much too quickly. The potion was going to be ruined if those two blundering idiots continued like that.
"Don't, Tom," Hermione whispered back.
"They can't keep pushing us around like that, Granger," Tom said as he chopped up the Pixie wings, his cutting becoming more and more aggressive. "We need to do something,"
Hermione pondered for a second as she tried to avoid any scenario where conflict was involved.
"We'll just make our potion better than theirs," Hermione suggested. "Even though they tried to make it worse for us, we'll still make it better"
Riddle opened his mouth to retaliate but the Gryffindor cut him off.
"It's not like we can do something about it, I'd rather make them look stupid then get in trouble for trying to seek revenge,"
Tom pondered this for a while. Perhaps he would first prove his superiority by making them appear stupid and then he would push forward in a more gruesome revenge. He imagined himself humiliating the other Slytherins. They would ask for his help when they saw how much they needed their help to pass a class. They would envy his intelligence and eventually, they would envy his power. He'd take the opportunity to dehumanize them, make them wish they had never wronged him. He would make them pay for every scar, he would make them pay for every bruise and every insult. With time and patience he would make them all suffer when they least expected it. And unlike what Hermione suggested, he was going to get away with it. He looked at the little Gryffindor who had no idea of the dark ideas that were brewing within his mind.
"You're right, Granger." He smirked when he saw a look of shock when the defiant Riddle was finally complying with her decisions.
"Tom…don't do anything that'll get us in trouble," Hermione warned. Riddle noted how clever the little Gryffindor was. She knew something was up, but he grinned with a convincing air of innocence.
"Don't worry, I won't" He smirked to himself as the lie slipped so easily from him. "I'll go get more oak leaves, you stir the pot,"
For a while Hermione's gaze followed him suspiciously for a while, but she eventually turned around to focus on their Potion.
When Hermione wasn't looking, when he walked by Malfoy's table, no one noticed that he muttered a small spell that increased their flame just enough to ruin the brewing process. Tom Riddle chuckled to himself; it wasn't like their potion was going to be good anyways. He just ensured it, that's all.
"Excellent work, Ms. Granger and Mr. Riddle! I couldn't have done it better myself!" Professor Slughorn praised the two students "O's for both of you," And he handed them a marking sheet with their mark on their sheet of paper.
Hermione seemed to be beaming with pride.
"Told you the leaves go in after," Hermione snarled but her companion paid no attention. Riddle held a more sullen look, as if it wasn't the mark he was interested in.
When Professor Slughorn moved to Malfoy and Nott's table Riddle's attention seemed to spike. He noticed the nervous glances that the two Slytherins gave each other. After a few tests, Professor Slughorn looked over the potion with stern eyes.
"…Consistency is too thick," He said writing something down "Color is at least five shades off of what is acceptable," The two Slytherin's blushed in embarrassment.
He handed their sheet and Tom noticed a D scrawled on the parchment.
"You should ask Ms. Granger and Mr. Riddle for help, they seem to know what they're doing," Professor Slughorn praised before moving on to the next group of students.
When class finally ended Tom and Hermione strolled out together.
"You're right, Granger," Tom leaned in and said "That was much better than revenge," Before he went off to another class.