Ok. First off, I'd like to say OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY for leaving this chapter so long, I know it is waaaay overdue and you totally didn't deserve to wait that long and I am so, so sorry!
When Hermione couldn't find Tom later that day, she feared the worst. After their argument, she had no doubt that her Tom was being held captive inside the body of Mr Hyde. And the way he'd shunned her before running out, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, a murderous look upon his face – excuse the pun.
She'd searched for him in all the obvious places she'd searched before. Double-backing on herself, but she found nothing. No one had seen him, either. Not even the ghosts. So, she thought outside the box. He couldn't have just disappeared into thin air, or left the grounds. He had nowhere else to go, no family to see, no friends to call upon. He was definitely in the school.
Her brainwave came a little late, but when it came she thought herself a genius. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the Room of Requirement, either.
Damn it, where could he be?!
She sighed and slumped against a wall in a deserted corridor. She gently bumped her head off the brickwork to try to think. To get some sort of idea of somewhere he could be!
Suddenly, there was a scream. Oh, not a scream. Just some girl with a very high-pitched voice shouting at someone.
"What on Earth are you doing here?! Get out! This is the girl's Lavitory–,"
Hermione's legs began running before she'd even processed what had been said. Mertyl. Moaning Mertyl.
She reached the toilets just in time. When she barged in she saw Tom stood before the sinks, they were slowly opening, and a low hiss emerged from the pit below.
"TOM!" She screamed without thinking, reaching for him. She grabbed the scruff on his collar and pulled him back, away from the entrance to the Chamber. "MERTYL! CLOSE YOUR EYES! DON'T COME OUT FROM THAT CUBICLE!"
"Why?! Who are you? What's going on?! How do you know my name?!"
Hermione didn't have time for this. She continued to drag the struggling Mr Hyde from the room, but it was difficult. Considering how skinny yet tall he was, you would have thought it a piece of cake. Except it wasn't. He was much more built than she was. He continued to struggle, and she continued to persist. She knocked his wand from his hand, and neither of them looked to se where it had landed. Eventually, they made it outside. When Hermione looked up to his livid face, she noticed his eyes were closed. But... The Basilisk wouldn't hurt him, would it? He was its commander – the heir of Slytherin. Then why were his eyes closed?
"Tom," Hermione said gently, carefully letting him go now that he'd stopped struggling. "Tom you can open your eyes now. We're outside, it's OK."
"No!" He snarled, turning to run off, but Hermione grabbed him again. It didn't stop him completely, but it did slow him down.
"Tom!" Hermione pleaded.
He kept twisting his face away from her line of view, his eyes tightly shut. "Let go of me, Mudblood!"
Hermione ignored the white-hot searing pain in her chest and tightened her grip. "Tom, it's alright! I'll let you go if you open your eyes!"
"NO!" He pushed on, and Hermione was dragged with him. He was frightening her now, but she couldn't pry her fingers from his robes. "Let me go!"
With that, he pushed her down – hard – onto the floor, and in a bid to cushion her fall, she let go of his robes. He ran off, without a second glance in her direction.
She lay on the floor, gawking at the empty space he'd left behind him, until her mind clicked back into place. She scrambled up and charged back into the bathroom. Mertyl was still fuming in her cubicle, and the gate the chamber was closed. Hermione sighed with relief, and turned to leave Mertyl screaming unanswered questions to the furniture.
Why wouldn't he look at her?
That was the one question replaying over and over inside Hermione's head, unable to let her sleep, or stay in content about anything else.
Why wouldn't he look at her?
Was it because of what he'd said? That she was a Mudblood? So in his heat of rage he'd thought it disgusting to even look upon her?
Why wouldn't he look at her?
Not even open his eyes? Is that how desperate he was to get away from her? To get away from the bathroom? As if keeping his eyes closed could make a difference anyway??
She sighed into herself and closed her own eyes, trying desperately to get some sweet sleep. Even if it was for 5 minutes or so, she didn't care. If sleep was all she needed to get Tom out of her mind she would do it.
But that was never the case.
For her Tom is in her head during the day, but at night, Mr Hyde takes over.
Tom wasn't at breakfast that morning. Or in lessons that afternoon.
Hermione didn't even see a glimpse of him in the hallways, roaming around like he should as Head Boy. She chuckled a little under her breath. Voldemort? Head Boy? There's a thought.
He was there the next day, though, at breakfast. And it was all Hermione could do to keep hers down.
He looked absolutely dreadful. Almost like death itself. Much more alike to the Voldemort she knew than her 16 year old Tom.
His skin was bone-white, with a tinge of sickening green. The dark circles under his eyes brought out the dull grey irises, making them even more piercing than should be allowed natural. His clothes hung more from his body now than ever before, draping from his arms and legs as though only his head was floating there. And the planes in his cheekbones were so nauseating Romilda had to bury her head in Ryker's chest.
The only thing that seemed normal was his hair, and even that was sporting a grey tinge.
Tom sat down beside them as though nothing was wrong, and everyone clenched their teeth as if every bone in his body could snap on contact with the wood – that's how fragile he looked.
She never thought she could see Tom Riddle – Voldemort – looking so frail. It was tragic.
Overcome with fury at his carefree expression, she waved her wand and suddenly Tom's body blew up like a balloon, filling out his clothes until the point of tearing. His neck and face fattened out until it connected with his chest and stomach, seeming like one huge ball. He didn't float up out of the chair or fly away like Harry's aunt Marge had in third year – Hermione stifled a giggle – but it was close enough.
Eileen covered her mouth with her hand as not to laugh, and Roberta just gazed at him, her mouth open into a crooked smile. Ryker and Jackson were in fits of laughter, high-fived each other, and Jackson pat Hermione on the back.
Tom looked down at himself in disgust, his large fingers and chubby hands displaying to his face. "Granger!" He yelled, snarling at her, "What the hell is wrong with you!?"
By now, everyone in the hall was staring in their direction, but Hermione was too angry with him to let that bother her. She had a point to get across, and boy was it going to cross over, alright.
"This is how I'd prefer you to look, Tom!" She screamed at him, muting the hall into eerie silence. Even Jackson and Ryker had shut up. "Some fat pig who can't seem to stop! Not some lab rat being starved to the point of skeletation!"
At that, the air left Tom's skin with a very amusing noise, like when the air from a balloon escapes. There were some giggles at first, but once they saw what Tom looked like without the blubber, it went silent again.
After about thirty second of nothing but silence, and Hermione glaring into Tom's eyes, there was a gasp and a cry from the other side of the hall behind them. Before they knew what was happening, a Hufflepuff first year girl had ran out, slamming the doors behind her, but everyone still heard the awful retching sound.
Tom didn't seem to notice as he snarled, "I don't see why you're bothering, Granger. You and I both know what I do to you, so you might as well let me die."
Hermione knit her eyes and gaped at Tom like he was a crazy person. "Thomas..." She whispered, unable to come up with anything else to say.
He sneered at her, a sneer worthy of the Malfoy family, or better. "I die inside every time I have to go to that Orphanage, anyway. Why not save everyone the trouble and kill me now? We all know I'm not worthy of life. Some disgusting half-blood sorted into Slytherin house out of nothing but luck–,"
"SHUT UP, RIDDLE! JUST SHUT UP RIGHT NOW!"
A sobbing girl looking much like Hermione had just fled the hall, and the stranger with her exact voice left an echo around the hall. But the empty space before Tom had just picked up dust, and she was gone.
N/A: I'm really sorry all over again, guys. And I hope I made it up to you! I love you all soo much, you have no idea!!
Why not go check out my Harry Potter chatrooms/videos on YouTube? .com/user/xoPinkDarlinxo
Kelly xxx