Title:Ultima ratio
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
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Chapter Five: What Is It Like To Be Hated?
As Hermione finally left the infirmary it was evening already and she headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. The story of their little duel during DADA should have reached the other students by now. Hermione really didn't want to be the topic of any rumour or gossip but at the moment she couldn't change that. Her original plan of maintaining a low profile was slowly crashing down around her. What would Prof McGonagall say if she could see her now, mucking up the time line? Would probably hex me on the spot, Hermione smiled.
She reached the entrance to the Great Hall and stepped through it. Most of the students already sat at their house tables and were eating. As Hermione entered, the murmur in the Hall died down. All of the students began to stare at her. Not so much stare, Hermione noticed bewildered, but they threw her hostile glares. She had been prepared for the Slytherins staring her down. She had, after all, fought with their evil leader. But it wasn't just the Slytherins' dark glares she had to endure. No, similar glares were coming from the Ravenclaws and Huffelpuffs and, Hermione noticed with a jolt, even from Gryffindor. What had she done wrong? That couldn't be about the duel now, could it?
Suddenly very self-conscious Hermione hurried to the Gryffindor table. She could feel those glares following her every move. As she arrived at the table she searched desperately for an open seat to sit down and get out of the spot light. But every time she found a free space it miraculously vanished upon her approach. Obviously no one wanted her to sit beside them. Hermione didn't know what had gotten into them. She had gotten along with nearly everyone before. Why did they shun her now? After some time Lupin caught her eye. He silently invited her to the place beside him. Grateful, she walked over to him and sat down.
"Thank you," she whispered softly to him.
He nodded at her without a smile.
The chatter had started again around her but she could still feel the hostility towards her. No one was talking to her. She wanted to ask Lupin what happened but she didn't dare do it now while everyone could eavesdrop. She loaded her plate with a little bit of the sausages and fried potatoes and began to eat but wasn't very hungry anymore. She could hear her name mentioned in a few of the conversations going on around her. After a while of shoving the potatoes around on her plate she stood up and left the Great Hall. As she walked out of the Hall someone bumped into her. Hard. Hermione felt a sharp pain coming from the cut on her shoulder. The shove was strong enough to slam her into the wall. A group of Ravenclaw girls passed by. Obviously it was one of them who had shoved her. They all looked at Hermione as if she was a particularly disgusting piece of filth. Some of them even grinned evilly as Hermione held her shoulder painfully. As Hermione watched them pass by she could hear one of them say,
"Slut!"
The other girls laughed at that spitefully. In bewilderment and a little bit hurt by their behaviour Hermione walked back to the Gryffindor common room. She stepped through the portrait hole into the room. It was deserted. The others were still in the Great Hall, eating. As she had nothing else to do Hermione walked up the stairs in the dormitory. The tidiness of the room annoyed her now.
Stupid Legifer!
She sat down on her bed.
What was with them? Hermione leaned back on her pillow.
This hostility couldn't be explained solely by her duel with Riddle. Sure it had been stupid of her to engage herself in a fight with Riddle, of all people. But at the time she hadn't had a choice. But why would the others hate her because of that duel? Well, she had lost some house points. But not that many. No, it was something else. Something must have happened during the time she had been in the infirmary.
She then heard someone coming up the stairs. As the door opened her four roommates stepped in. They glared at her, though Viola looked more indifferent than hostile. Lucia went to lie on her bed next to Hermione's. She slid to the side of the bed farthest away from Hermione and began to write in her pink diary. Viola disappeared into the bathroom and Diana rummaged through her things. Rose looked over one of her essays, every now and then she looked up and glared at Hermione. Hermione was really annoyed by them now. She hadn't done anything to deserve something like that.
After a while she yelled at no one in particular, "What's wrong with you?"
Diana ignored her outburst completely and Lucia stared at her and frowned but said nothing. Rose looked up from her essay and hissed, "Nothing's wrong with us. But you are a snaky little bitch, aren't you?"
Hermione was stunned by the cutting sharpness in her voice. Rose normally never spoke like that. And no one, not even Diana, objected to her use of insults. Hermione didn't want to discuss anything with them right now and pulled the covers of her bed shut. She grabbed her Arithmancy book and began to read the chapters they were going to cover the next day in class. She really had other things to worry about than those stupid school girls trying to harass her. Others had tried that before. After a few hours of reading the book slid down and Hermione fell asleep.
"You worthless Mudblood!" the Death Eater spat and kicked Hermione in the side. She lay rolled up into a ball at his feet. How could she have been so careless? She had left their hiding place to go to the village for some food. They hadn't been able to get anything to eat for days. A full blown war was raging now between Voldemort and the Ministry. Voldemort's Death Eaters were everywhere. It was getting harder and harder to find a safe place to put up their tent. Every Death Eater knew their faces. They couldn't just go into some shop and buy something to eat without the risk of getting caught.
"Where is Potter?" another Death Eater asked. There were five of them, encircling her. Hermione didn't answer. So the Death Eater pointed his wand at her and hissed,
"Crucio!"
The familiar agonizing pain of the Cruciatus curse was ripping at her. And though it was familiar there was no getting used to that pain. It was slicing down to the very core of her being until there was nothing more left than this all consuming it stopped. A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her brutally into a sitting position.
"Where is Potter?" the Death Eater asked again.
Hermione looked up at him and shook her head. She was never going to tell them. The Death Eater then spat out on her and slapped her. She was plunged to the side. Blood was dripping down from the corner of her mouth.
"You ugly piece of shit!" he yelled at her. "I should just kill you now, Muggle-whore!"
Hermione cried. They were going to kill her eventually. But not before they had tried to get the information out of her using every means possible…
Hermione woke up and felt tears trickling down her cheeks. Merlin, get a grip! She chastised herself. The population of the school ostracizing her was no reason to cry over. It could complicate her work on getting back to her own time but it was no reason to despair. Hermione got up, changed and then left the dormitory. The others hadn't spoken one word with her. They were outright ignoring her. Hermione thought about going to the Great Hall for breakfast but decided against it. She wouldn't be able to eat anyway while everyone glared at her like they had yesterday. So she headed for the History of Magic classroom.
The History class was horrible. Professor Binns was unbearably boring as he droned on about one Goblin war or other. The other students were ignoring her most of the time. If they were not ignoring her, they were trying to curse her. Some time into the class her inkwell exploded. She got covered in her black ink from head to toe. No one had tried to help her get rid of the ink. Everyone had laughed at her evilly.
Later that day, Hermione walked to the Great Hall for lunch. She really didn't want to go there but as she had skipped breakfast she was now quite hungry. Further down the corridor she could see Longbottom, Weasley and Lupin. Time to get behind the mystery of her being shunned, she thought.
As she caught up to them she greeted them, "Hey!"
Longbottom looked at her. Hermione could see disappointment in his eyes. Why was he disappointed with her? He didn't say anything but walked away from them. Hermione couldn't help but feel hurt by his behaviour. Lupin and Weasley seemed less offended by walking beside her and stayed.
"Now, can anyone tell my what's wrong?" she said impatiently.
Weasley and Lupin looked at each other uncomfortably until Lupin said, "Well, it's about you and Riddle."
"What about me and Riddle?" Hermione asked when he didn't explain any more.
"They know about you asking him out and…" Here Lupin dropped out.
"Excuse me?" Hermione asked indignantly.
"You did ask Riddle out, didn't you, Hermione?" Weasley said more forcefully.
Hermione stared at them. What?
"No, I did no such thing!" she said disgusted by what they were insinuating.
Weasley raised his eyebrows. "You did not?"
"Of course not!" Hermione was annoyed now.
"I thought so," Lupin said.
Hermione turned back at Lupin. "Then tell me what this is all about."
Lupin cleared his throat and then told her, "There's this rumor, Hermione. They say you went to talk to Riddle and asked him on a date. But he declined."
"What did I do?"
"There's more I'm afraid," Lupin continued, "After he turned you down you got angry and started to yell at him and insult him. And as he still didn't want to date you, you threatened him."
"I threatened Riddle?" The whole thing was grotesquely funny, Hermione thought. She, threatening Riddle?
It's the other way around!
"I'm sorry but that's how the rumor goes." Lupin looked at her sympathetically. "To get your revenge on him for turning you down you attacked him during the DADA class."
"You're kidding, right?" Hermione couldn't believe her ears. "He was attacking me. I had to defend myself, hadn't I?"
"Well, you did use some pretty serious spells on him, Hermione," Weasley threw in. "Like that bright light. It melted a damn hole in a stone floor."
Hermione shrugged at that. Yes, that spell was really dangerous. But no spell was strong enough if cast on Lord Voldemort. He'd deserved it.
"His spells weren't harmless either. But who started those silly rumours anyway? Like I would ever ask Riddle on a date." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I don't know." Lupin frowned. "But the bad thing is, everyone's believing it."
"Yeah, even Longbottom," Hermione said bitterly.
"He's stupid, Hermione," Weasley tried to console her. "He's just so touchy with anything concerning Riddle. He really hates him, you know."
Hermione sighed. "I just hope they'll realize how wrong they all are."
This rumour explained everything. Tom Riddle was a very popular guy. Hermione had grudgingly to admit that. He had built himself a perfect reputation among the student body and even the teachers. For them he was the poor but brilliant orphan. So brave and handsome. The girls fell for him head over heels and the boys respected him and wanted to hang out with him. He had them wrapped around his little finger. Hermione doubted there were many people who knew the real Tom Riddle. Dumbledore was certainly one of them. And Riddle's Slytherin followers, the future Death Eaters, knew him and feared him. But beyond that? Hermione didn't think there were many people who even suspected him. And now she, the new girl, had attacked their golden boy. Of course they would hate her, attack her and in short make her life as miserable as possible. Hermione had to think back at Riddle's words.
'Don't start a war with me. You would regret it very much.'
Maybe that war between them had already started? And Hermione was now experiencing his first attack. She was pretty sure it was Riddle himself who had started this cock and bull story.
Lunch was as pleasant as the History class before. Hermione had tried to eat fast so she would be able to leave the Hall again. Somehow those death glares weren't very relaxing. After a Bad Bogey Hex had hit her in the back she had somewhat lost her appetite. So she left the Great Hall and headed to her Charms class. Now that would be nice considering who her desk neighbour was. Hermione sighted. She did that a lot lately, she noticed.
I wonder why?
And she had started to use too much sarcasm too.
As she arrived at the Charms classroom she sat down on her seat wishing she could sit somewhere else. The students arrived one after the other at the classroom and went for their tables. But not before throwing her a few nasty glares. It was getting old, Hermione thought. But as long as they didn't throw curses at her she couldn't be bothered.
_._._._._
Riddle strode elegantly to his Charms class. He had just informed Primus Lestrange about their next meeting. Lestrange would see to it that the others were informed. Those meetings slowly grew into an inconvenience. Riddle had started this little group all those years ago to have someone to practice the Dark Arts with; or rather on. But today he really didn't need practice anymore. So maybe it was time to disband the group? On the other hand those meetings were an excellent recruiting ground. He could sway all those stupid little pureblood wizards to his cause. The heirs to a few rich and influential pureblood families were already loyal to him. They were rather useful to do the dirty work for him, too. No, he had to maintain those meetings. The benefits were just too big to ignore. So he had to go through those meetings however dull they were. Maybe he could crucio someone on the next, that would be fun.
He rounded a corner on his way to the classroom as a girl bumped into him. Couldn't those imbeciles look where they were going?
He put on his charming smile. No one could resist him then and said, "Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
The girl, a Ravenclaw, blushed deeply. She was rather pretty. Riddle thought he knew her somehow. Her name was something like Denvin… or Dunhill. He wasn't sure. And really, he didn't care.
She answered in a jumpy high voice, "No, I'm alright. It was my mistake."
Yes, it was your damn mistake. I would so like to curse her now.
Riddle was about to continue his way to the classroom as she asked, "Tom, I wanted to ask you if you are okay. After that new girl attacked you so insidiously."
Tom? Who gave her the right to call him Tom? He could feel a burning hate rise in him. He looked back at her. She shied away a little. Damn, his hate must have shown in his face. He fixed that and smiled at her again. But why did she dare call him 'Tom'? Now that he looked closer, she was rather familiar. Where was that again? Riddle pondered. Ah, yes! He could remember now. He had shagged her. That was it. He nearly sniggered at that. Too easy. Those girls were just too easy to get. But still it didn't give her the right to call him 'Tom'.
He answered in his sweetest voice, "Don't worry. I wasn't hurt that bad. Just a few cuts."
At that the girl muttered something indignantly like "How could she!" He didn't know. He wasn't really listening.
Then she said, "Is it true? Did she attack you because you turned her down?"
At that Riddle nearly laughed out. Oh, his little rumour was spreading very nicely. But he answered in a hesitant voice, "I'm sure that's not related."
She smiled at him in a way she definitely considered to be flirtatious but was just ridiculous, "You are just too nice, Tom."
He really had to go now or he risked breaking down and laughing insanely. "I have to go to my class now. It was nice talking with you."
And with that he walked away from the deluded girl.
His rumour had worked nicely. DeCerto was now shunned from the whole school. He had quite enjoyed creating that little attack on her social life. But still that girl was a mystery. Her dueling abilities had been a surprise. He had to find out more about her. Maybe she would join his group after all. She would definitely be a powerful follower. But somehow he doubted he could persuade her to join. She had seemed to hate him from the very first day.
At the very least she distracted him from his other problem. Where he now seemed to be in a dead-end. But he would definitely use the ring…
He arrived at his classroom. DeCerto was already sitting at their table. Riddle could see the other students glaring at her. DeCerto was reading in her charms book and seemed to be rather unconcerned by the hostility of the rest of the class. Riddle felt a bit irritated by that. He walked over to his place and sat down.
"DeCerto," he greeted her.
"Riddle," she said blasé, never looking up from her book.
That infuriated him even more. Why was that girl so insistent on ignoring him? And why did he care anyway? But he did.
"So, how was your day?" he asked in a sugar-coated voice. Well, how good could your day have been? With the whole school hating you?
He could see the knuckles on her hand holding the book turning white. She looked up at him and her eyes were burning with anger. So, she probably surmised that it was him who started that rumour. He smirked at her.
She answered him in an equally sweet voice that didn't quite match her face right now, "So, how are your cuts?"
That insufferable bitch! How could she talk to him like that? He leaned in to her and whispered so that only she could hear, "How do you know all those spells, DeCerto? Tell me!"
His last two words had been spoken with so much force and authority that Hermione felt cold shivers running down her spine. But she wasn't going to tell him. So she whispered as softly as he had spoken,
"Well, how do you know all the spells?"
His grey eyes were boring into her again, shining with anger, "Sooner or later I'm going to find out anyway. Why do you have to make it so difficult for the both of us?"
That prick! Hermione was really pissed now. Why did he have to be such an asshole? And why, oh why, was she the only one to see him for what he was – evil?
And now that he was so close again she could see this impossible colour of his eyes again. They were a pure grey with small dots of dark blue around the pupil. His face was well-proportioned and his dark hair fell elegantly into his eyes. He was so handsome. And that pissed Hermione off even more. How could he say those things and look like that? In her time, Lord Voldemort had at least had the decency to look just as evil as his soul was.
Hermione shook her head in disbelief, "Pff, like I'm going to tell you anything."
There it was again. How she addressed him and how she looked at him. There was hate in her eyes, but with the hate Riddle could live. No, there was also a great amount of contempt. Like he was something way beneath her. The worst of it though was this glint of pity he could sometimes see when she spoke to him.
He narrowed his eyes at her and hissed, "There will come a time where you will beg me on your knees to let you tell me your pathetic secrets."
At that DeCerto chuckled. How could she laugh after such a declaration of war? Then she leaned into him. He tensed as he could feel her hand brush his arm.
She whispered in his ear emphasizing each word, "In your dreams."
Before Riddle had a chance for a retort the door to the classroom opened and Professor Merrythought stepped in. Hermione leaned back in her chair and glanced sideways at Riddle. He still looked at her. His face was a blank like always but somehow Hermione could interpret the many little nuances in his face. Underneath his emotionless mask Hermione saw disbelief and anger. And to her surprise he looked a little bit flustered. Lord Voldemort was flustered? By her? She had the irresistible urge to laugh out loud but instead smiled at him sweetly. That seemed to infuriate him even more she noticed satisfied.
All those emotions he was trying to hide told Hermione something about Tom Riddle. He was not Lord Voldemort yet. At least not the Lord Voldemort from her time. He had been cruel and ruthless. He knew no mercy and would never have looked flustered in any situation. Hermione knew Riddle was by far no nice and normal boy. He had already killed at least four people. But he was not like the Voldemort of her time. That Voldemort had had no emotions. Not because he was better in hiding them but because he simply didn't have emotions like any normal human being. Hermione wondered what had happened during those fifty years that had changed Riddle so much. She just knew that somewhere during the progress he would lose his humanity. How terrible! she thought as an inexplicable sadness took hold of her.
Professor Merrythought brought her out of her musings as she said in her kind voice, "Now, class, last time we have dealt with the Procella charm to create wind. Let's move on to the other weather charms"
Professor Merrythought beamed at the class. She clearly enjoyed teaching very much. Hermione remembered Professor Merrythought from her time. She had been one of the examiners of her OWL exams. In her time Merrythought had been ancient. Hermione had been beyond nervous through her OWLs but she remembered how Merrythought had helped her calm down. Hermione liked her now even more.
"Now, who can tell me what the other weather charms are?" the professor asked.
Hermione saw Riddle raise his hand beside her. She quickly scanned the classroom. He was obviously the only one who did know the other weather charms. Well, aside from her of course. Hermione decided to raise her hand too. Now that Riddle seemed to have an interest in her anyway there was no need for her to hide her knowledge.
Merrythought smiled at the both of them fondly and said, "Yes, Ms DeCerto. Can you name another weather charm?"
"Yes, professor. Aside from the Wind charm there are four other weather charms. The first is the Pluvia Charm with which it is possible to create rain. The second is the Snow charm, though the incantation is the same as in the Pluvia charm but with slightly different wand movements. The third is the Caligo charm. It creates a thick fog around the caster. The last is the Solismico charm, the Sunshine charm. It does not actually create sunshine but it is the counter curse to the other weather charms"
After that little speech Hermione could see Professor Merrythought's smile growing even wider, Riddle scowled at her and the rest of the class threw her evil glares. But Hermione really didn't care what the others were thinking and smiled back at the professor, who said,
"Very good, Ms DeCerto. Those are indeed all the weather charms. Take 10 points for Gryffindor." She turned to the whole class and continued, "Today we will be practicing the Snow charm. It is pretty easy to perform after you know how to use the Rain charm. The only differences, as Ms DeCerto correctly explained, are the wand movements."
Then Merrythought droned on about how that charm was invented, how it could be used and showed them the correct wand movements. Hermione wasn't paying much attention as she already knew how to perform all the weather charms. The only remotely useful of them was the charm to create fog. It could be used to hide in it. Unfortunately the counter charm was as easy to perform as the Fog charm itself. So it wasn't very safe to use it while sneaking over enemy territory.
After some time of daydreaming Hermione heard the professor say, "Now, I want you to practice the Snow charm. And don't forget the incantation is Pluvis."
Hermione heard the familiar rustling of paper and scraping of chairs that usually followed such a statement. A soft murmur broke out in the classroom. Merrythought started to walk between the students and help whoever had problems with the charm. Hermione watched the other students trying their luck with the Snow charm. Some of them had managed to produce sleet falling down around them, wetting all their school things. The only one how managed something that actually looked like real snow was Lupin. Small snowflakes were raining down on his table. Merrythought had noticed and awarded him 5 points. Hermione smiled at him. He smiled back and waved at her. Hermione could see that Marc Longbottom who was sitting beside him still ignored her. It really depressed her that he wouldn't even look at her anymore.
"So, what school did you attend in France, DeCerto?" She heard Riddle beside her ask innocently.
Subtle, Riddle. Subtle! She thought as she turned to him with one eyebrow raised.
"Shh, I'm trying to learn here," Hermione smiled at him. Then she waved her wand as she thought,
Pluvis!
White fluffy snowflakes were beginning to fall softly on Riddle's black hair. Before he could curse Hermione in turn Prof Merrythought ended the class.
"I want you two write a one foot essay on the weather spells. To be handed in next week."
Hermione hastily got up from her seat and left the classroom. She didn't want to argue with Riddle anymore.
Riddle waved his wand lazily and the snow falling down on him stopped. That girl was really something else. He stared after her as she left the classroom. He got up, took his bag and left the room. She was still contradicting him. Even after all the things he had said and done. No one of the other students had ever dared to talk to him like that. And certainly no girl at that. But here she was, standing up to him. He had seen the fire in her eyes. That just didn't work. He was fascinated by her fire but at the same time he desperately needed to extinguish it. He needed her to look at him with the same fear and awe like everyone else did. But he felt like he would lose something if DeCerto changed into one of the others. Around the next corner of the corridor he heard voices. He stopped to listen in to the conversation.
"-to have the audacity to sit beside him after all you've done, DeCerto."
Riddle recognized the voice. It belonged to Susan Yaxley a Slytherin sixth year. He didn't like her. She was always trying and failing to seduce him. Now she seemed to be talking to DeCerto, and continued in a sharp, mean voice,
"It would have been better if you had stayed in France, you bitch. Maybe then Grindelwald would have killed you."
Riddle raised his eyebrows at that. There was a strange feeling in his stomach at the thought of DeCerto being killed by Grindelwald.
"Yes… maybe that would have been better," DeCerto answered softly and it sounded more like she was talking to herself. Then he could hear her walk away.
Riddle was surprised by the severity in her voice.
What was that? Never before had he heard this tone in DeCerto's voice. Her voice was normally full of emotions. The predominating emotion was hate if she talked with him. But that answer she gave Yaxley had just been void of anything.
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Stupid cow! Hermione walked to Professor Legifer's office. It was five minutes to six and Hermione had to go to her detention with the professor. A detention for being a little bit messy. Hermione was very infuriated. Whatever would come next? A detention for having the wrong hair colour? As she arrived at the office she knocked a little bit harder on the wooden door than was necessary.
"Come in!" Hermione's anger level rose as she heard Legifer's cold voice.
She opened the door and stepped inside the office. Legifer was sitting at her desk were she had been grading some essays. Hermione nearly shook her head.
"Ah, Ms DeCerto," Legifer smiled at her cruelly. "Five points from Gryffindor."
Hermione stared at her incredulously. "Why?"
Legifer indicated to the clock hanging on a wall. "You are late."
The clock showed one minute past six. Hermione felt her anger boiling over but she managed to keep her mouth shut. For the first time ever she could comprehend how Harry must have felt about Snape. Legifer still smiled at her smugly.
"So, Ms DeCerto as you so obviously don't know what cleanliness is I want you to read through those essays." Here she gestured towards a huge pile of parchment lying on the desk before her.
"They are from my first year students. I think you can learn a lot from them," Legifer elaborated in her piercing voice as she took one of the essays in her hand and held it up so Hermione was able to read its title.
'The chores of a house witch'? Hermione felt like she would snap any minute but tried to not curse the foul woman sitting in front of her.
"Yes, professor," she managed to say in a rather pressed voice.
She stepped forward and accepted the essays from Legifer who smirked at her. Then Hermione sat down on the chair in front of Legifer's desk and looked furiously down at the pile of parchment in her hand. She had never thought that the day would come were she wanted to burn a pile of homework. But here it was. Hermione had to resist the urge to look around in Legifer's office for a fireplace. Instead she took the first essay from the pile. It was from a Malissa Stanson, a Ravenclaw first year, Hermione read. She continued to read what Malissa had written in her spidery writing:
'It is the responsibility of every good wife to keep order in her home. So her husband can relax when he comes home from his work. A good wife should also prepare a meal so that her husband can have something healthy for dinner. The good wife should wait for her husband and welcome him home after his long day in the office.'
Hermione could almost physically feel the indignation taking a hold of her. What was that? She couldn't believe what she had to read here. She was suddenly so glad that she had been brought up in the eighties and nineties. It seemed here in the forties the emancipation of women had still a long way to go. The worst of all was that these innocent girls, like Malissa Stanson, had to write nonsense like that. Maybe they even came to believe it.
"Keep reading, Ms DeCerto!" Hermione nearly jumped as Legifer hissed at her. "I can see when you stop."
Hermione glanced at her professor. Legifer still sat behind her desk grading some essays. She didn't look at Hermione but Hermione could still see the smug smile on the professor's face. Hermione had to fight to not lose her composure. She balled her hands into fists, nearly crumbling Malissa's essay.
"Yes, professor," she answered mechanically and was surprised herself at how unemotional her voice sounded.
Hermione left Legifer's office more than three hours later. She couldn't believe that foul hag had kept her that long. She could have used that time for something useful. Like going through the library for books on time travel. Even sitting on a chair and staring at the wall would have been more productive than that stupid detention. But now it was nearly ten already. The library was closed by now. Hermione decided to go back to her dorm, let her room mates insult her a little, as they obviously so liked to do, and then try to get some sleep and forget this day had ever happened. As Hermione rounded the next corner she saw a boy walking in her direction. When he came closer she recognized him as Ledo Avery, a seventh year and the Slytherin Quidditch captain. And of course member of Riddle's little Death Eater group. She groaned at that.
Well, it could have been worse. Could have been Riddle.
Avery seemed to recognize her too because he had started to smirk at her darkly.
Great! Hermione ignored him and tried to walk by him. But he suddenly blocked her way.
"If it isn't little Ms DeCerto!" he said in an oily voice. "What are you doing this late in a dark secluded corridor?"
Hermione didn't like that disturbing glint in his eyes as they glided appreciatively over her body.
"I don't see that being of your concern," she answered in a steady voice but her right hand tensed. She just needed to flick her wrist and her wand would fly in her hand.
"Aw, DeCerto, why so dismissive?" Avery took a step nearer to Hermione. "I know you must feel disappointed that Riddle turned you down. But I'm sure I could comfort you very well."
Hermione was disgusted as he winked at her lasciviously. "I don't think so. And now go out of my way!"
To her surprise he really stepped away. But as Hermione passed him she felt his hand closing around her left wrist. She hissed in pain as he wrenched her back. She collided with his chest.
"Ah, that's much better," he purred in her ear as he entangled his muscled arms around her waist.
Hermione wriggled and tried to get away from him but he held her firmly. "Let me go!" she yelled at him indignantly.
But he just smirked at her. Now, Hermione had had enough. First Legifer's stupidity and now this horny ruffian. She flicked her wrist and felt her wand reassuringly land in her hand.
"I think that's enough, Avery!" Hermione heard a quiet voice say just as she was about to hex Avery to kingdom come.
_._._._._
Riddle had just left the library after having browsed the books in the restricted section. For the tenth time! He just couldn't find the information he needed. He couldn't believe that he was the first one to ever have this idea. Wasn't that the obvious next step one had to make? Apparently no-one ever had done that. Or they were smart enough not to write it down. He sighed and fiddled with the golden ring on his right hand. Maybe it was just Hogwarts' policy of banning any book that was remotely useful. If the information wasn't to be found in a book then maybe he should try other sources. Who would know? Dumbledore surely knew something.
Yeah, that would work. He rolled his eyes. All he had to do was knock at Dumbledore's door and ask him nicely.
How about McGray? No, that wouldn't work either. McGray was a new teacher. He wasn't yet under Riddle's charm. Riddle doubted that he knew anything anyway. McGray was a disturbingly 'good guy'.
Then maybe Slughorn? Yes, that was better. Slughorn was a sneaky little bastard but he knew a great deal about the Dark Arts. More than he let normally show. But Riddle would have to plan his proceeding very cautiously. What he wanted to know was a sensitive subject after all. He didn't want to make Slughorn suspicious of him.
As he walked down the corridor on his way back to the Slytherin dungeons he heard an angry voice, "I don't think so. And now go out of my way!"
That was DeCerto! He sneaked nearer to hear some more. He heard some footsteps and then a rustling. The noises were coming from another corridor. He stepped cautiously nearer, always remaining in the shadows. A little bit ahead he saw DeCerto. With a jolt he realized that someone was embracing her. Who was that? He narrowed his eyes.
"Ah, that's much better."
Riddle recognized the boy now. That was Avery. DeCerto was now trying to get away from Avery. Obviously that embrace wasn't a mutual matter, Riddle realized relieved. Wait, why did he care anyway? He just turned to walk away as he heard DeCerto yell in an angry voice,
"Let me go!"
He looked back and saw how DeCerto flicked her wrist and her wand landed in her hand. Avery obviously hadn't noticed as he continued to hold her. A sinister smile began to form on Riddle's face. He would really enjoy seeing DeCerto curse that idiot. Yes, or he could 'save' her and then try to get some information out of her.
He stepped out of the shadow and said, "I think that's enough, Avery!"
Hermione looked over Avery's shoulder and saw Riddle standing a few metres away in the corridor. How great! Now it was not only Avery but also Riddle she had to deal with. Right now, she would prefer to battle a mountain troll. Avery had in the mean time let go of her and stepped a few paces away from her as he turned towards his leader. Riddle strolled towards them and stopped in front of Avery. Avery was a few inches taller than Riddle but right now he somewhat cowered before the other. It was clear who was in command here.
As Riddle spoke his voice was quite but deathly cold. "Avery, I think it would be a good idea for you to go back to the dungeons."
"But I-"
"Now!" Riddle said, his voice never rising in volume but it was clear he would not allow any contradiction here.
Avery winced at that and nodded. Hermione was surprised he didn't say 'Yes, Master!' before he turned and walked away. She shook her head and turned to continue her way back to the Gryffindor common room.
"Aren't you going to thank me, DeCerto?" She heard Riddle's smug voice behind her. He obviously had abandoned the deathly touch to his voice and was now teasing her again.
Hermione turned her head around and looked at him. He was standing in the corridor, looking as attractive as always and smirked at her. His eyes shining with amusement.
Hermione answered, "I don't see why. For all you knew I could have been snogging Avery."
She then continued to walk away from him. She heard him chuckle and then he fell in step beside her.
"Feisty, DeCerto. What got you so angry? And by the way your 'Let me go!' didn't sound like you enjoyed Avery's affection very much."
Hermione snorted at that. "Oh, and you felt the inexplicable need to save me or what? Let me tell you one thing: I can look after myself!"
Riddle chuckled again. He really began to infuriate Hermione. "I know that. I do remember our duel after all." He looked at her before he continued conversationally, "Just tell me, that curse you used, the rope, what is it called? I never heard of it."
Course you didn't. That curse was invented in 1974. But Hermione enjoyed knowing more than Riddle about magic. She realized they had nearly arrived at the entry to the common room.
"I don't think I'm going to tell you, Riddle. Don't want you to use it on innocent people."
Riddle abruptly stopped and as Hermione turned to look at him he grabbed her arms and pushed her against the wall. She looked up at him shocked. His look had now a predatory air around it. Riddle let go of her and placed his hands on either side of her head on the wall, trapping her effectively. Hermione felt her heart beating very quickly now. She really didn't want him so near her. It was unsettling. He was again emitting that raw magical energy. It surrounded her and breached her body painfully. She looked up at him, her eyes widened.
"W… What are you doing?"
He smirked down at her. He enjoyed seeing her so afraid of him, Hermione could tell. His eyes were assessing her. She shuddered at their intensity.
"Why are you so hostile towards me?" he whispered in her ear now. "What is it you are hiding, Hermione DeCerto?"
Hermione gulped. He couldn't know anything. That wasn't possible. But he obviously guessed that there was something strange about her.
Not good!
Hermione had planned to keep a low profile at Hogwarts. And now just a mere week after arriving she had the Dark Lord on her tracks.
She looked away from him and said, "I… I don't know what you are talking about."
Riddle chuckled at that. He moved closer to her. His chest was now nearly brushing her. Then he took her chin with one hand and forced her face to look up at him again. Hermione knew her eyes were wide with fear now but she couldn't help it. Riddle was smirking down at her darkly.
"DeCerto," his soft voice was now compelling. "There is no use fighting me. You can only lose."
His eyes were boring into her with such intensity that Hermione was feeling faint. His warm hand was still holding her chin softly in place. Hermione was terrified. She was trapped and she wouldn't be able to use her wand. Riddle was not as stupid as Avery. He would notice if she tried anything. She just wanted to get away from him. This commanding aura he was radiating was just disturbing. She needed to get away.
"Please, let me go," she whispered shakily.
His smug smile widened at her plea and her display of fear. But surprisingly he did let her go and stepped away from her. Hermione breathed out, relieved. Riddle smiled at her disheveled form contently and said,
"Just don't forget who is in command here."
And with that he turned and with a swish of his black robes he was gone.
Hermione leaned on the wall for support and tried to even her breathing. Sometimes in the classroom or the Great Hall it was easy to forget who Tom Riddle really was. But right now she had been dealing with Lord Voldemort. Her hands shook terribly and she felt slightly sick. He was so damn frightening it was unsettling.
She needed some time to calm down enough to be able to enter the Gryffindor common room. The warmth and chatter in the room comforted her a little bit. She loved the red and gold colours of the common room now even more. With them she felt at home. In a far corner she saw Lupin, Weasley and Longbottom. Weasley had obviously seen her entering as he was waving her over. Hermione hesitated because Longbottom was sitting with them. But Lupin was smiling at her, so she decided to walk over to them. She sat down on the sofa beside Weasley.
"Hi," she said timidly, not looking at Longbottom.
"Hello, Hermione," Lupin said while he still smiled at her. Hermione was remembered of Remus Lupin now even more by his calm manner.
"Hey, Mione." Weasley grinned at her, "You don't mind if I call you Mione, do you?"
"No, not at all." Hermione smiled at him.
Lupin cleared his throat and said while glancing at Longbottom. "I think someone has to say something?"
Hermione looked confused from Lupin to Longbottom. Longbottom was fiddling around with the quill in his hand while staring guiltily at the ground. Lupin nudged him softly in his side. Longbottom looked up and faced Hermione.
Then he said awkwardly, "I'm sorry, Hermione."
Hermione frowned at him, still confused.
"Lupin and Weasley told me," Longbottom continued contritely. "That you never asked Riddle out. And that everything is a lie. I'm sorry I believed it." Longbottom looked at her anxiously.
Hermione understood now. He was apologizing for being such an idiot lately. She smiled at him.
"Its okay, Marc. You are not the only one who believed those lies."
Hermione felt relieved that Longbottom spoke to her again. She felt isolated enough in this time period without everyone hating her.
"Apology accepted. But you owe me now a nice butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks," she added teasingly.
The three boys laughed at that relieved. They seemed to be as happy about the reconciliation as Hermione was.
"So, now everything's all right again?" Weasley asked, "Because your stupidity was slowly getting to me," he said to Longbottom who laughed again.
"Yeah, I think so," Longbottom answered happily looking at Hermione.
Hermione was very glad to be on speaking terms with him again. Somehow those three were the only friends she had in this time. And they reminded her so much of Harry and Ron. They seemed like a lifeline connecting her with her lost friends.
"Yes, everything's alright." She smiled.
The four of them sat in the common room, joking and laughing. Hermione enjoyed that intimacy very much. It felt like the old times when she had been sitting in this very room talking with Harry and Ron. In a time before everything had gone bad. A time were she had been completely happy. It seemed like an eternity lay between those happy times and now. But Hermione enjoyed it to pretend, even if it was only for a short time, to be that happy Hermione again.
It was nearly midnight as she stepped in the dormitory. The other girls were all lying in their beds asleep. Hermione preferred them that way. She took her pyjama and went to the bathroom. After changing and brushing her teeth she gladly lay down on her soft bed. She closed the red curtains around her finding solace in the solitude.
The old Hermione she had been playing down in the common room, she wondered when she had died. Was it after Sirius' death? That had been a heavy blow not only on Harry but on her too. Sirius had been the first victim in the war she had personally known. Diggory and Crouch Sr. had both died before him but Hermione had never even spoken to them. Their deaths had been shocking but they had been dampened by the anonymity.
But even after Sirius had died there had still been hope in her. This burning spark in her hadn't yet gone out.
Then Dumbledore had died and after him so many more. But she had always been on the move then. She had always been fighting. There never had been the time to dwell in those deaths. Maybe that change in her had been more of a process. And at its end stood this bitter and hardened Hermione. She felt sad at that thought but she also knew that this process was irreversible. There just was no way for her to go back to her other innocent self.
Her thoughts went back to Voldemort. He was the reason for all the misery in her life. All the suffering she had had to endure. And now she had to face him again. He was still as frightening and dangerous as ever before. The coldness and ruthlessness wasn't yet present but Hermione had seen a glimpse of his darkness today. And she didn't want to face it again. She was tired. She had been fighting for so long now and had lost everything on the way. I need to go back home even if I'll be lonely there. I can't bear to stay here.
Hermione walked down a lane. She had her hood pulled down deep in her face. She was alone in the middle of the night walking down this backstreet in London. She was searching for a Horcrux and she didn't even know what it looked like. A creation of Ravenclaw. But what was it exactly? And more importantly she didn't know where he had hid it. His old orphanage was only a guess. And a poor one at that. Hermione didn't believe it herself. She couldn't see him hiding something so important in a place he despised so much. But Harry and Ron had agreed with her not to take anything for granted. So she had been checking the place. She had convinced Harry and Ron that if she went alone the possibility of her being caught would be lower. Alone she was inconspicuous.
But her excursion had been in vain. The orphanage didn't exist anymore. And Hermione hadn't found any Horcrux in the near vicinity. It was time to go back to the tent and tell Harry and Ron that she hadn't been successful. It was discouraging.
Suddenly she heard an inhuman scream somewhere down a dark intersection. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand. A burst of insane laughter followed the scream. Hermione's blood run cold as she stared in the direction the voices were coming from but she couldn't see anything in the dark. The laughter died down and then someone whispered an incantation before Hermione heard the soft pop of a disapparation. She gasped as she saw the disgustingly familiar green sign taking shape in the nightly air. A snake was coiling around a skull. Hermione sneaked into the dark alley. Maybe she could help? Deep down, she knew that hope was unfounded.
As she stepped closer to the gleaming green sign she came upon an abominable scene. There, lying on the grimy ground was a mangled body. Hermione saw dark-blond long hair. The body had belonged to a woman. She wore muggle clothing. Everything else was barely recognizable as human. Her limbs were broken. Bone was protruding the skin on several places. A pool of blood was building under her. Her right side was a bloody mass. Having been smashed by something into a pulp. Bowels were sprawled on the pave stones. All the while the moonlight illuminated the scene serenely diving it in an otherworldly sheen.
Hermione gagged and stumbled back. Then she turned and ran away. Away from the blood, from death and it's sickening smell. Gulping in large breaths of the cold air. But the feeling of being stained never left her. And somehow Hermione knew it would never leave her ever again…
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Author's notes: Yet another chapter for you to read. And still, Hermione doesn't seem to like Riddle, does she? But don't worry, we'll come to that eventually. I need the story to develop though. Can't help it. Please, stay with me and I promise to update fast.
Thanks for the reviews you sent me. Really, it keeps me going.