Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me
I've been totally immersed in anime lately so just to get myself back into the mood of writing Harry Potter, I watched all three HP DVDs today. Super sorry for such a slow update but I'll definately try to keep them fairly consistent from now on. Happy New Year's and happy reading!
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Chapter 3
"Now, can anyone explain to the class what a Demiguise is?"
Two hands shot up immediately from the front of the classroom.
"Ah, yes, Miss Granger?"
Hermione smirked in triumph, watching out of the corner of her eye as Tom Riddle slowly lowered his arm. It was only the second class of the day and she already knew that she had begun to steal his thunder. As usual, she had managed to answer every question correctly and the professors had seemed to take an interest in testing out the new Head Girl.
"Yes, sir. A Demiguise is an ape-like, herbivorous creature that can make itself invisible. It is native to the Far East and its hair can be woven into Invisibility Cloaks."
The short rotund Professor of Magical Creatures nodded, continuing to pace back and forth at the head of the classroom. Since it was only the first day of classes, they were doing some background material in class before heading outdoors for practical studies. Hermione thought it was unfortunate that Hagrid hadn't thought to do this for his first lesson.
"Well done, Miss Granger. It seems that our new Head Girl certainly is up to par. Ten points to Gryffindor."
Annoyed mutterings sounded from the Slytherins while the other Gryffindors shot her the thumbs-up and smiles from around the room.
Take that, Voldermort! How's it feel to no longer be the cleverest student in the school?
The lesson continued, Hermione jotting down notes that she had already learnt before. That was completely fine with her; it was interesting material and the fact that she had already taken seventh year before only made it easier for her to carry out her new plan.
She had spent a restless night tossing and turning in bed, her mind unwilling to allow her to relax. At first, she had not expected it to be hard to make someone hate her but all the initial ideas, such as physically assaulting him, seemed to carry more of a risk of him killing her. Not that she was afraid for her life; Hermione was fully aware of the chances of death should she succeed in making Voldemort hate her, it was just that she wanted to be sure of the ultimate success before she did die. So far, pissing him off by stealing his limelight and his seat as teachers' pet was the only decisive decision with which she had come up.
Lovely, Hermione. And you're supposed to be brilliant.
"We have a meeting with the Prefects after classes today."
"I…what?"
Her eyes met his briefly across the worn wooden desk. As Head Boy and Girl, they had to sit next to one another in the classes they shared. It was a required show of camaraderie between the different houses that was all part and parcel of the position. Hermione's eyes dropped away first. She inwardly cursed herself for the momentary lack of courage.
"We have a meeting with the Prefects after classes today."
"Fine."
Her terse answer was met with a cold silence. Hermione continued staring straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge his narrowed stare. It was uncomfortable being deliberately rude but she figured that that would be the best way to discourage any development of intimacy between them. Besides, the mere reminder that this was Voldemort made it that much simpler and that much more enjoyable to sneer at him at every chance she got.
The rest of the lesson continued without further ado. As the other students chattered their way to lunch, Hermione slowly packed up her books. It was nice being Head Girl again, particularly since that ensured that she would be at least somewhat informed of Voldemort's whereabouts at all times. But it was also a great disadvantage to be so isolated from the rest of the Gryffindors. It would have been nice to be able to share a room with the other girls and pretend, even if it was only once in a while, that things were not nearly as complicated or as bleak as they truly were. As it was, she would be left alone with her thoughts for most of the time.
Sighing, Hermione was in the process of heading out the door when she felt a light touch on her arm. She turned to see an oddly familiar freckled face smiling at her.
"Hi, Hermione Granger, right? I'm Allegra Weasley. I don't think we've met before."
"Weasley?"
"Oh, you've heard of my family? I've got two brothers who've already graduated from Hogwarts so I'm the youngest. The baby as the buggers keep on calling me."
The red-head made a face, her clear brown eyes dancing merrily as she let out an unlady-like snort. Hermione found herself laughing. When she thought about it, it was not surprising that she would meet one of Ron's great-relatives. After all, they were one of the oldest wizarding families and from what she could remember from past conversations, most, if not all of them, had been in Gryffindor.
"It's nice to meet you, Allegra. Honestly, I was a bit worried it would be hard to make friends here. Everyone already seems to have their little groups."
"Aw, it's not so bad. We're a tight-knit bunch; you'll find it plenty easy to make friends. We're all interested in this mysterious stranger who suddenly popped up and became Head Girl."
The two started walking down the busy corridor, slowly making their way towards the Great Hall. They emerged on to the open hallway, sunlight filtering through the stone archways as students gathered on the low walls or grassy courtyard to greet each other.
"I'm sure you'll fit right in. Everyone's already impressed with how clever you are."
Hermione grimaced, shifting the heavy book bag on her shoulder.
"Great. So I'm already being labeled as a know-it-all?"
She had always hated being called that. Draco Malfoy had never bypassed the chance to throw it at her whenever he wasn't calling her a mudblood. And even Ron and Seamus had sniggered it behind her back. Hermione really could not understand why it was such a grave sin to actually study for a change. This was a school, after all.
"Well, maybe by the Slytherins. A few of them were getting steamed about you showing up their Head Boy. But they're all a bunch of gits anyways so you don't have to pay them any attention. Besides, you're Head Girl. You're supposed to be smart."
The girl threw her a kind smile to which Hermione automatically responded. She was sweet. That very much reminded her of Ron, although he usually tried to hide it under a layer of gruffness and would always cough and blush fiercely whenever he was called on it. How she missed him.
"Thanks, Allegra. That means a lot to me."
They entered the Great Hall, which was already packed with hungry students. Hermione explained that she had to sit with the teachers and promised to meet up with the girl later. Pausing at the door as bodies pressed past her, her eyes were drawn to the tall, dark-haired boy sitting on the far left-side of the Head table. As if sensing her gaze, his head turned in her direction, placidly watching her as she made her way towards them. Hermione tried not to squirm under his inspection, stubbornly refusing to lower her eyes from his. That strange pressure was there again, pounding inside her head like a tangible force. She wondered if that was what everyone felt whenever they looked directly at Tom Riddle or if it was only her.
Their mutual staring contest only broke when she climbed the short steps and made her way to sit next to him. No words are spoken throughout dinner and Hermione triumphantly thinks that there is no other way she would have it.
-o-O-o-
"And lastly, this is Emily Kendrick and Gerald Whittleborne, our new Ravenclaw Prefects. I trust you will all get along well together this year."
Hermione nodded, settling down into the high-backed chair around the pastry-laden coffee table. Smoothing her long woolen skirt over her knees, she nibbled on a treacle tart. These old-fashioned uniforms were rather charming.
"Yes, of course Professor Merryworth."
The long-nosed Head of Hufflepuff smiled kindly, handing each of them a long scroll of parchment.
"These are your respective duties for the year. Naturally, you are expected to carry them out fully and in co-operation with one another. Miss Granger, I understand that you are new here but young Mr Riddle is well experienced in this area, having been Prefect for the past two years. I'm sure he will be more than willing to assist you with any questions you might have."
"Yes, Professor."
Hermione scoffed under her breath. He was such a smarmy suck-up. It was amazing that everyone in Slytherin seemed to kowtow to someone who would otherwise be seen as a nerd.
What is it about him? Everyone used to tease me for acting exactly the way he acts. That is so unfair!
Skimming through the list in her hand, Hermione frowned. Nightly rounds of the castle after hours. Monthly meetings with the Prefects. Planning of an annual ball.
"Excuse me, Professor. Am I supposed to do all of these with the Head Boy?"
She made no attempt to hide the disgust in her voice. The other students looked slightly confused while the Dark Lord in question did nothing but slant her an emotionless glance. The older witch blinked owlishly, strands of grey hair peeking out from under her lopsided pointed hat.
"Of course, for certain assignments you are expected to work alongside the Head Boy. Nightly rounds can be done separately but the meetings and ball planning ought to be done together. Is there something the matter, Miss Granger?"
"No, not at all. Just asking."
The issue was dropped and Hermione chatted amiably with the other students until the meeting was called to an end. Making her way out of the office, Hermione was stopped by a short cough.
"Granger."
"Riddle."
She did not bother to slow down her usual brisk stride. The boy fell easily into step beside her.
"If you have something to say, why don't you say it to my face?"
Hermione shrugged dismissively. He was somewhat more talkative than she would have expected although Voldemort's penchant for double-meanings and sarcasm seemed to be in full swing.
"I just think it would be a good idea if we do the rounds separately."
"Why?"
"Why not? Don't tell mea Slytherin wants to spend more time than necessary with a Gryffindor?"
She chanced a peek at him but he was not even looking at her. His pale face was facing directly forwards, his posture perfect and making her feel just the slightest bit disheveled.
Great, now I'm comparing looks with Voldemort! Let's not even go there.
"I agree. It's settled then."
And before she could come up with the last word, he had swept off.
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A/N: I dunno why but this chapter feels a bit off compared to my other ones. I'll take a look at it again in a couple of days and re-edit it if necessary. Please do let me know how you feel about it and thanks again!