Hello! Look! A real update! woo! I was in a terrible mood today and I did not know how to fix it. Then I remembered how happy writing this made me so I sat down and finished the 12th chapter. I am stressed as hell but you know. Not much I can do about that right now. I hate school.
I hope this chapter lives up to all of your expectations unlike how avatar the last airbender is not living up to mine. the last episode was good but meh.
Anyway! Back to Harry Potter! I'll try not to leave you guys hanging for so long anymore. I think the last time I updated was in August. That's two months! I'll try to update at least once a month. I couldn't go several months without updating. I'd feel too guilty. Really it's comments and positive feedback that kept me interested in writing this story. So thanks!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is my BFF but JKR's creation.
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Drink From My Cup
Chapter Twelve: The Promised Plan
How can you fly
with weights clinging to your side?
Come float with me on shadowed air
and disgard your dripping wings.
You'll fly farther and with more grace
without those heavy things
She would use him. The mechanics in Hermione's brilliant mind had begun to tick. She would use him to get what she wanted. She would engross herself in him and find what she could from him. As dangerous as he was… at least she would remain alive long enough to discover how to destroy his soul. She would stay alive and she would get what she wanted. That was all that mattered right now.
And Hermione returned to the library. She sat there long after the lower grades were ordered to bed, long after Caity yawned and made her way out, giving up on asking Hermione what had really happened between her and Tom, and long after the librarian had left, telling her not to stay too late.
Hermione was waiting. She was daring him to come find her, Secrets of the Darkest Arts lying patiently before her. That entire day people had been questioning her, digging for information of what happened at Hogsmeade. Hermione only shook her head and ignored further questions. She could not possibly tell them the truth but she would not lie for Lord Voldemort. She was not sure whether he had any way of knowing she was sitting here waiting for him. But if he was as desperate to own her and she knew he was, there was a chance.
Her pulse beat excitedly as she waited. She internally cursed herself for this. She was not supposed to want to see him. Only need him to come so she could get whatever information she needed from him and end this hell. An hour passed since Madam Goshawk had left. An hour and a half… two hours….
Hermione shut Secrets of the Darkest Arts with a loud bang. She was angry. What was the deal? She had been so sure that he would be eager to get her by herself after their incident at Borgin and Burkes. She had thought he would sic his little lackeys on her by now. Was he bidding his time or making her sweat? Or both?
Hermione gave up and rose from the back table she had been sitting at. It was past midnight and she had to wake up early the next day to finish the homework she had been putting off. She just could not concentrate when her prospective plan was flooding her mind. Whenever she would try to clear her overworked brain unpleasant thoughts of what had occurred the night before would creep into her mind… his soft hair, his burning lips, his tensing as though he had wanted what was to come next more than she had.
Hermione shook these thoughts from her mind and marched angrily out of the library. She gave up. She would have to find a way to confront him tomorrow. The castle was dark and familiar as she made her way back to her dormitory. God knows how many times she had made her way through these halls late at night, under the cover of an Invisibility cloak.
"I thought you would never leave that blasted library."
Hermione drew her wand and spun on the spot as quickly as she could, her eyes searching for the voice. But she knew whose voice that was.
Dolohov stepped out from behind a set of armour, his own wand drawn and pointing toward Hermione. There was an insane expression on his face as though he weren't altogether himself.
"What do you want, Dolohov?" barked Hermione, keeping her wand pointed at her opponents chest, flashes of their last encounter flooding her mind. Had Tom sent Dolohov to find her? "If you want to talk again then you can just bugger off."
Dolohov's expression did not change, though he did step farther away from the suit of armor and further into the dim light of the corridor.
"I assure you my intentions have changed since we last met. I have no desire to talk to you."
And as though those words had been their cue, five other black-cloaked boys stepped from behind suits of armor, their wands drawn and pointed threateningly at Hermione. She was surrounded.
"Oh, how very noble of you all," Hermione spat, keeping her wand raised and her chin up, though she hoped they couldn't see that her hands had begun to shake slightly. "Matching a Gryffindor six to one. What remarkable odds."
"As much as we'd like to stick around to hear the rest of your witty banter…." It was Avery's voice, coming from behind Hermione's left shoulder.
"We have our orders," Mulciber finished for him.
Hermione was able to block only one stunner as jets of red light came at her from all sides.
---------------------------------------------------
Hermione winced. Her body felt as though every muscle had been pulled and then unprofessionally healed. She tried to turn her head but found it was impossible. She began to panic. Hermione opened her eyes. The setting did not mirror the fear inside of her. She was lying on a large bed in what looked like a dormitory, though from what Hermione could see with her peripheral vision, there were no other beds in the room. What she picked up instead were the outlines of a half dozen Death Eaters. If she had control over her vocal cords she would have screamed but the only things Hermione seemed to be able to control at the moment were her eyes. They seemed to have no trouble producing tears.
It felt strange to cry. Hermione noted that this was the first time she had allowed herself to cry freely since she had found herself in the past. The tears poured out of her eyes and slipped into her hair, which was spread across the white pillow.
"Why the tears, Artemis?"
Hermione felt both relieved and disgusted to hear that voice. It was the voice she had wanted to hear all night. Why did it have to turn up now when she was petrified upon this bed instead of when she had the upper hand in the library? But then again she had no one to blame but herself. She had compromised herself by wandering out of the library alone. She had only believed that he would never think of setting his Death Eaters on her once more.
Again with the trusting….
"You wanted to see me? Then why are you so sad you finally got your wish?" Tom stood at the foot of the bed in his own bedchambers. He stared down at her, elated and apprehensive all at once. "Unpretrify her," he commanded.
Hermione felt her muscles relax, though they still felt as though they had gone through a beating. She sat up gingerly and scanned her surroundings. She was sure she was in the Head Boy's room. There were only two doors. One must lead to the bathroom while the other led to escape. Every boy surrounding her wore a mask, except for Tom. He stood boldly before her, meeting her gaze with a piercing one of his own. He seemed to revel in the authority and power he held over the boys.
He lifted something up before her eyes and smirked. His wand.
Hermione growled. So he had his wand back. Well then, where was hers?
"You can't keep my wand from me forever," Hermione growled boldly. "You can't keep me in here forever. This is a school. It would be a bit stupid of you if I didn't show up to class tomorrow wouldn't it?"
"Mulciber, show Miss Morgan what happens when someone speaks out of turn in my room," Tom spoke coolly, almost indifferently, as he inspected the wand in his hands.
Hermione twitched as Mulciber raised his wand and pointed it directly at Hermione. She screamed as the familiar pain pierced every inch of her skin. What had happened? Had Riddle suddenly decided he did not care for the piece of him inside of her? Was she going to be killed? Hermione's screams clouded her thoughts and took over her senses until she could no longer feel the pain, but only hear her screaming. She stopped and opened her eyes. Masks covered the Death Eater's expressions, though their movement proved them uncomfortable. Hermione realized she had continued screaming even after Mulciber had taken the curse off of her.
Shakily, Hermione turned her wet eyes toward Tom, who was inspecting her with mild interest, as though she were a complex question in potions. This made her furious and she did nothing to hide this emotion from him.
"That will be all," he stated quietly to no one in particular, but at these words all his Death Eaters turned toward the exit and left swiftly.
Hermione was left alone with Tom, breathing heavily and struggling to sit up in his bed. How could she get out of this? What was he going to do to her?
Tom stood staring at her, stroking his wand in a long movement as she glared at him. He debated what to do next.
"No," he finally replied simply. "I cannot keep your wand from you forever." He grinned at this and began to move around to the right side of the bed. "But for now I can."
He sat on the edge of the bed, facing her, studying her carefully. She made to move away from him but he grabbed her shoulder.
"You seem so eager to get away from me. Weren't you looking for me?" He asked her coldly. "Tell me, Artemis, what did you need me for?"
Hermione yanked herself from his grasped and toppled over the side of the bed. He reacted quickly and stood as Hermione rose shakily from the floor. She had no means of protection… so she raised her fists. Tom Riddle moved around the bed laughing. It wasn't the cold, high laugh that Hermione was used to. Nonetheless, it was not pleasant. It was mocking.
"You'll try anything," he said smirking. "That won't do." Tom raised his wand and flicked it toward Hermione. She screamed as her hands clamped together on their own accord and swung over her head, pulling her back against the bedroom wall. It was as though invisible chains had wrestled her back against the green painted wall.
She growled in frustration, panting and out of breath.
Tom approached her. He made a motion with his hand that Hermione was now familiar with and his wand vanished into midair.
"Now where were we?" he asked innocently as he stepped in front of her. "We seem to have been in this same situation many times before. It tends to end unfortunately abruptly."
He met her eyes and Hermione groaned. They were darker than she'd ever seen them. No signs of red shown through indicating that he was in total control of himself at the moment.
"This time," he said placing a palm on the side of her cheek. Hermione used all her strength to resist from leaning into its warmth. "it will not end until I say so."
Fresh tears were slipping down Hermione's cheeks. She had never wanted anything to go this far.
She felt his lips press against her cheek. They felt cool in comparison to her flushed cheeks. She was shaking violently. She felt disgusted with herself. Why was she so afraid? She was a lion! But she had never been the bravest in her adventures with Harry and Ron… only the most logical and loyal.
He moved down to kiss her neck roughly, moving his hands under the sides of her shirt to caress her waist.
More tears spilled from Hermione's cheeks. Unlike the times before, his touch burned her skin in his wrath. She could not prevent herself from crying. It amazed her. This was the first time she was able to resist and not desire his advances. She turned her head away from him as he lifted his head from her neck to look her in the face.
Tom stared at her with mild interest and great frustration. What was wrong with her? By now she would usually be leaning into him. Why was his Horcrux becoming better able to resist him? He could not blame her for being afraid but the change in her response to him since their last encounter was dramatic.
"Stop crying," he ordered, gripping her waist in a firmer grasp. The noise annoyed him and made it difficult for him to think. His command had no effect. She only continued to look away from him and sob.
His pulled his hands out from under her shirt and gripped her jaw in his right hand. He forced her to look at him. Her brown eyes were moist and clenched together as her head was jerked toward him.
"Stop it," he demanded again. Hermione only shook her head and continued to cry.
Tom moved his hands up along her arms to her magically binded wrists. He gripped them and they parted from the wall. He lowered them so their hands were between their chests, her wrists firmly clenched in his hands. He yanked her closer to him.
"Will you stop?" he asked shaking her slightly.
Hermione could do little to calm herself down as he shook her. She needed to get away from him.
Tom could feel his anger growing. She had to stop that fuss or… he didn't know. He hated that noise. It was such a sign of petty human weakness. His eyes flashed red. It was an awful reminder…
"I said stop!" he shouted and threw her forcefully from him.
Hermione landed on her back, sinking into the soft bed. She stopped crying abruptly in shock of the action. She stared up at him, still terrified, but curious. He wasn't looking at her, only staring at the bedpost, breathing heavily through his nose as though he was trying to get a hold of himself. She stared at him with amazed eyes, this being the most vulnerable she had ever seen him. She did not dare speak as the Future Dark Lord tried to control himself.
He finally looked at her.
"Good. You're done," he stated coolly, though some of the authority and danger had gone from his voice.
They stared at each other, frozen in time. Hermione could not move as his black eyes bored into hers. Tom watched her, debating on what to do with her next. Should he carry out his plan after that sign of weakness?
He approached the bed cautiously. He could see her tense as he neared her and he felt a sense of exhilaration from the fact. He knew what he wanted to do.
He leaned over her, forcing her to lie back, though he did not lay a hand on her, and rested his hands on either side of her. She was frozen in place, still frightened of and interested in him. They watched each other suspiciously, neither trusting the other.
"You are a liar," he sneered at her.
"You're a monster," she snapped back.
"Tell me your real name," he demanded.
"No," she said defiantly.
His eyes searched her face and Hermione prepared herself for a Legilimency attack. But his mind was on something else as he eyes looked over her flushed cheeks and her swollen lips. Hermione got the idea as his head lowered toward her and she surprised herself by rising up to meet his lips.
As they kissed, Hermione moved her hands around his neck and they settled into each other on Tom's bed. Hermione leaned into him as he kissed down her neck. Tom enjoyed the feel of her soft skin against his lips as he lingered on her pulse and moved on, thinking that this was not at all how he expected his plan to unfold and wondering whether what he was doing really had anything to do with Horcruxes.
