Disclaimer in chapter one
A/N: New chapter. I hope you like where the plot is going ^^ I also have to apologize on Tom's behalf for this chapter, but he's kind of an asshole. It always comes as a surprise. Even as I write it down ;P
Thank you all for reviewing on the story!
summerful21, Polarfrosch, TwilightGirl100195, Relent1ess, cathy loves heath, MomentoMori2, Last Laugh, LeLuvTrianglePenguinGiraffe'nI, Mademoiselle Dara, Anon, serpentslions, kbcollegebound, YoursAnnie, JayMJane, EriEka127, Ariya, Penguin Princessu, Thamaleia, pansy25, Guest, FemmeFerret, R. B. Evans, Atlantean Diva, P.N Tran, darkbabe
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Chapter Four: Undercover Nerd
So, it turned out Rosalie Black seemed to be something like the most popular girl in Slytherin. At least, that was Hermione's conclusion after she had stepped into the Slytherin common room. By now, most of the students were here and they seemed to be fighting to gain Hermione's precious attention. It was rather embarrassing, really. Hermione felt incredibly self-conscious under all the attention and wanted to escape. Getting the cold shoulder, though, only seemed to spur the Slytherins on.
"H- hello." a Slytherin boy with short curly hair and pimply skin had dared to walk up to her.
"Yeah… hi," Hermione replied hesitantly.
The guy sat down beside her on the sofa, nervous smile on his face. Hermione felt uncomfortable. She didn't even know the bloke's name. What was she supposed to do here? She frowned at him, wondering what to say. Obviously being used to getting frowned at, the guy simply smiled at her. Then he dove for his bag and pulled out a rolled up parchment.
"Here." He offered her the parchment, giggling sheepishly. "It's all done. Promise."
"Er… that is… nice?"
Hermione took the parchment, her fingers accidentally brushing against his. Promptly, the guy again broke down into giggles and blushed, making his pimples stand out even more. With adoration shining in his eyes, he looked at Hermione, nodding at the parchment. Hermione didn't see a way out so she unrolled it. One glance at the parchment told her it was a Herbology essay, seemingly about the Common Plangentine.
"Oookay…" Hermione said helplessly. "Why are you giving me this?"
"You said you needed that for Beery next week, didn't you?" the Slytherin boy supplied timidly. "You'll get at least an Acceptable for it. Promise."
A sharp frown appeared between Hermione's eyebrows as she stared down at the essay. What was this? Cheating? What exactly did Rosalie Black think she was doing? Letting others write her essays… A scandal. Misinterpreting the angry scowl on Hermione's face, the Slytherin desperately assured,
"It's probably better than an A. I think it's gonna be an E." He slid a bit closer to her and looked at her with pleading eyes. "Y- you said you'd let me sit with you during Herbology if I wrote this. P-please…"
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose as she heard that. This was horrible. Rosalie Black was a horrible person. No surprise there, she supposed. After all, she was Voldemort's girlfriend. Hermione felt annoyed and frankly a bit dirty, too. Angrily, she stuffed the offending essay into her bag and stood up.
"R- Rosalie…?" the boy looked up at her imploringly. "Please. Just n- next class. I won't bother you. Promise."
Feeling rather uncomfortable, Hermione pressed out a, "Whatever."
The resulting smile on the boy's face made guilt bubble up in her. Again blushing fiercely he sputtered,
"O- okay. Thank you. I… Thank you!"
Hermione decided she had had enough. Not replying anything, she fled to the dorms. As she stepped into the seventh year dorm, she had to resist the urge to rub her eyes in wonder. That was one huge room for only… one, two, three …four beds. There were no four-posters, like back in the Gryffindor dorms. Instead, four queen sized beds stood proudly in the room, dark silk blankets covering them. Then there were huge mahogany wardrobes, delicate looking small tables and fine nappa couches spread decadently around the room.
Looks like a horde of snobs ran through, decorating wildly, Hermione scoffed as she narrowed her eyes at the Slytherin dorm. She helplessly eyed the beds and wondered which one was Rosalie's. Her musings were cut short by a voice.
"There you are."
Hermione looked over to the sitting area on the other side of the room. She only now spotted the two girls sitting, or rather lounging, there.
"Um… yeah." Hermione scratched her head in embarrassment.
Surreptitiously, she scanned the girls. It was save to say they were both beautiful. One had long glossy blond hair that was curled into a complicated pattern of locks. Her face looked like one of those porcelain dolls, skin perfect, lips plump, eyelashes long and eyes bright blue. Yep, she was beautiful alright. Subconsciously, Hermione reached for her own bushy hear. Only when she touched Rosalie's black hair did she remember that Hermione Granger's body was somewhere else …probably lying face down with a huge gaping hole in her back.
Damn!
The other girl had short brown hair. Her skin was tanned a bit, giving her a healthy and attractive look. She seemed to be a bit smaller than the blonde one, but sitting down Hermione couldn't really contrast to the blonde-haired ice queen, she at least smiled widely at Hermione, making her look a bit more approachable.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Come over here," said the brunette amicably.
Slowly, Hermione made her way over to those two beauty queens, feeling rather self-conscious.
"So, where have you been, Rosalie?" the blonde one asked lazily after Hermione had sat down beside her. "All night… You have been with Riddle, haven't you? How was it? Come on, spill."
"Oh, Sarah," the brunette chided half-heartedly, trying to hide a smirk. "You can't ask a lady things like that."
After that debacle in the common room, Hermione started to wonder if Rosalie was really such a lady. She squinted suspiciously at… Rosalie's friends? At least she had a name now. The blonde ice queen was Sarah. Hermione noticed that both girls still stared at her, obviously expecting an answer.
"Yeah…" she said hesitantly, inwardly shuddering at the memory of waking up naked in a room alone with Voldemort. "It was alright… I guess?"
Hermione wasn't quite sure what reaction she expected after that rather unenthusiastic summary of her day… or night with Voldemort. A giggly breakdown? Or maybe exclamations of scandalized tempers. Hermione got neither. The petite brunette only shook her head, looking as if she had just been bereft of some juicy story telling. The blonde, Sarah, only shrugged with a decidedly unimpressed look on her face and ran a hand through her silky hair.
"How long have you been with Riddle now?" Sarah inquired indifferently. "Three months? That's a long time anyway. Maybe-"
"I think it's been over a year," the brunette piped in.
Hermione sincerely hoped they wouldn't ask her, because she had no idea and frankly didn't want to know for how long her current body had been rolling in the hay with Riddle. Luckily for her, Sarah seemed to love her own voice and completely ignored any interjections,
"What I meant to say: maybe it just fizzled out, Rosalie. If a relationship doesn't work anymore, you can't force anything."
Hermione raised her eyebrows, seeing an opportunity approach. If her supposed friends already thought her relationship with Riddle was on the rocks, maybe she could just break the whole thing off without it being suspicious.
"Oh no," the brunette whined. "Rosalie and Tom are the perfect couple. You can't break up."
Sarah threw her friend a look that would have frozen over a polar bear. "Betty, stop your meddling. This is entirely Rosalie's decision."
Hermione sighed. This was tedious. On the up side, though, she had learned a few new names. Sarah and Betty seemed to be Rosalie Black's friends. Hermione wasn't sure how comfortable she felt with that, but at least it was something. The two other girls were still discussing Hermione's alleged relationship with one Lord Voldemort as the door to the dorm creaked open. In stepped another Slytherin girl. Without looking at anyone, the girl hushed over to one of the beds, almost ducking behind it. Hermione frowned at that suspicious entrance.
"Gamp," Sarah sneered in quite the haughty voice at the newcomer. "Don't you have your lute lesson now?"
Betty giggled spitefully at the word 'lute'. The other girl – Gamp – ducked even deeper behind her bed, mumbling something shakily in reply. Hermione blinked at her in confusion.
"What's that?" Betty said, fake concern painfully obvious in her voice. "I didn't hear you."
"Got cancelled," Gamp mumbled meekly.
"Oh, I wonder why that is," Sarah sighed, biting sarcasm in her tone. "Why would anyone want to cancel the precious lute lessons?"
Betty smirked maliciously and Gamp twitched in reply, or it was a shrug, Hermione couldn't tell. The girl sat on her bed but held her head bent, so her dark hair obscured her face as if she were too afraid to look up and face her room mates. Hermione couldn't tell why she was target of the sharp disdain of the other two Slytherins. She looked like any normal girl and playing the lute was hardly the worst pastime Hermione could imagine. Quidditch was a lot worse if anyone asked her.
…or splitting one's soul and cramming the pieces into Horcruxes. That unwelcome thought brought Hermione back to the problem at hand. Abruptly, she stood up from the couch. Gamp flinched at the movement which Hermione tried to ignore.
"What are you up to?" Sarah inquired curiously, the scathing tinge having left her voice.
"Hm?" Hermione turned to the blonde. "Oh… er… Tom and I wanted to go to Hogsmeade."
"Oh-ho, going out with Riddle?" Betty commented suggestively. Then she glanced at Sarah. "See, those two belong together."
Sarah threw the other a piercing look. Then she smiled at Hermione and said, her sweet voice painfully fake, "I'm sure you two will have fun."
"Uh-huh," Hermione hummed, just to say anything at all.
Then she slipped away from the two girls. Luckily, she had spied the Black crest on one of the bed covers. Well, it seemed it finally paid off that she had spent a whole summer helping to clear out Sirius' old home at Grimmauld Place. The Black crest had been on everything. Hermione stopped herself from rolling her eyes and wandered over to Rosalie's bed. The Gamp girl again flinched nervously and once again, Hermione ignored that ominous reaction. Riddle's warning to 'not embarrass' him with her looks spooked through her head. She would have ignored that as well, but she needed to keep her cover. For now, she would play along.
Now in a sour mood, Hermione opened Roslie's wardrobe and was greeted with an abundance of silk, lace and tulle. It was cramped with skirts, dresses on coathooks, blouses and witch's robes in every colour imaginable. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the many clothes. For Christ's sake, they wore school uniforms most of the time. Hermione shook her head and reached for the first dress that fell into her hands. Dimly, she noticed how Sarah and Betty had gone back to making fun of the fourth girl in their dorm. Hermione would have said something, but Rosalie probably wouldn't. So, she simply disappeared into the bathroom to change.
It didn't take her long to get ready and Hermione left the dorm, feeling stupid. The yellow dress made her feel uncomfortable and she didn't know where to put her wand. Awkwardly, she pushed it into the too small bag. All storage problems were forgotten, though, as she arrived in the common room and spotted her 'date'. Riddle lounged in one of the armchairs, fingers tapping impatiently against the arm rest. Hermione shuddered. Maybe she should just ask Dumbledore if she could live in his office until they could send her back. She could sleep on the floor. No problem.
"You're late," Riddle's frosty voice informed her as he got up from his chair.
Hermione looked up at him and heroically battled the need to curse him. It seemed she would be doing a lot of that in the near future.
"I'm sorry," Hermione pressed out.
Riddle didn't comment but frowned down at her, prompting Hermione to raise her eyebrows. After a long moment, he finally asked,
"Did you gain weight?"
He raised his hands and laid them on her waist. Hermione was too outraged to push him away.
"Yes, I think you really did," Riddle said callously while rubbing his hands over her. "You need to watch out." His blue eyes locked with hers and he added nastily, "I don't like fat asses."
Hermione stared at him, scandalized by what he had just thrown at her. For God's sake, Rosalie Black was a mere 5'4 and probably weighed less than 100 pounds. Hermione looked up at Riddle's arrogant face and found nothing but disapproval there. Vengeful magic raged inside of her like a tornado and she had difficulties controlling it. Her left eye was twitching slightly as she stared at Riddle and she wondered if anyone had ever exploded from supressed magic. Disturbing pictures of what curses she could use on Riddle and their effects drifted through her mind.
"It's gross," the horrible wizard pointed cruelly out. "Maybe you should try to lose a little of your fat."
Maybe you should take your advice and stuff it up your arse! Hermione screamed at him irately in her head. Outwardly, she managed to keep her cool. It took her a lot to swallow down her pride as she whispered in a strained voice,
"You are right, Tom. I'm sorry."
Good God, one of these days I'm sure to burst from all the accumulated anger, Hermione thought as she looked up at Riddle's conceited face. She was glad that she never had any form of romantic illusions about this date, because from there on it only went downhill.
A good two hours later found Hermione sitting in the Hog's Head Inn, surrounded by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Even if she tried, she couldn't imagine how a date could possibly go any worse than this. Hot anger burned her insides as she stared at Riddle. A cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, Voldemort sat beside Hermione with an arm lazily draped around her waist while he talked with his henchmen. It was disgusting. His touch was as disgusting as the smoke in the air, his horrible friends around them and the so-called Butterbeer in the dirty glasses. The worst, though, was the odd girl hanging from the side of some of the Death Eaters. The girls were obviously not a part of this meeting and Hermione strongly suspected that looking pretty was the only task they had to fulfil. Hermione couldn't complain, though, because apparently she was one of them. Judging by the envious looks she received, being Riddle's girlfriend turned her into their queen. Bored out of her mind, Hermione peered at the door to the toilets. Maybe she should try to squeeze herself out of the toilet window and finally taste sweet freedom.
"-his back. And it turned out giving someone with a heavily bleeding wound Blood-Replenishing Potion is a bad idea," one of the Death Eaters – Mulciber, Hermione had learned – said, laughing loudly.
The others joined in, snorting with laughter. Even Riddle's lips twitched a bit, eyes sparkling with sadistic pleasure as he probably imagined litres of blood and dying puppies. Hermione felt sick and just wanted to punch someone. Before she completely lost it, she lightly tugged at Riddle's sleeve.
"Tom," she whispered softly. "I just remembered, I have to go. Hope you don't mind."
Predictably, Riddle's blue eyes glared down at her. And he inquired cuttingly, "What could possibly be more important than this?"
Virtually anything else, Hermione replied in her mind. Out loud, she said, "I have to go to the library."
That only made Riddle smirk nastily down at her. Even some of this friends snickered softly as they heard her.
"What would you do in the library?" Riddle asked patronizingly.
Oh shit, Hermione realized too late. That old excuse didn't work anymore now that she had turned into a Slytherin ditz. Too bad. Harry and Ron had fallen for that every single time.
"Now stop joking around," Riddle ordered condescendingly and placed a light kiss on Hermione's cheek. "Here, drink some more."
With that he slid a glass of Firewhiskey in front of her. Then he again completely ignored her and continued his conversation with his Death Eater sidekicks. Hermione shuddered in disgust as she still felt the ghost of his lips on her skin. Not seeing any other way out, she resigned herself to her fate and leaned back in her seat, still with Riddle's arm around her waist. Then she reached for the glass of Firewhiskey and downed it in one go.
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