It Was Not Amortentia
A/N: This fanfic is inspired by this Tomione music video:
TOMIONE; It Was Not Amortentia
Amazing video by Chris Froot on YouTube. I'd advise you to listen to it while reading this fanfic, or keep relating it to this in your head. It really sets the tone. But even if it's inspired off the video, it's still my own idea. I'm not exactly following what Chris Froot had the plot as.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this fic.
She looked at him.
He was staring at her, boring eyes into her. His gaze burned her.
She shifted her eyes away. She couldn't move her head. Then again, she couldn't move anything.
"Now, as you can see, I have quite a few concoctions out here. Any idea what these might be?" Slughorn trailed off as his eyes landed on a boy and a girl, both had their hands raised. He decided to pick the girl first.
"Yes, Ms—?"
"Granger, sir." Hermione stepped towards the table and nodded towards a colorless, odorless potion.
"This here is Veritaserum. A truth—"
He was staring at her. She couldn't think while he was staring, but she gave all the names anyway.
"And this is Amortentia." He looked away. "The most powerful love potion in the world." She involuntarily took a step closer to the potion. "It's rumoured to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them." She took in the potion's scent. It was suffocating her, fogging her senses, but she adored the smell. "For example, I smell…. firewood and spear parchment and…a monsoon rain…" His eyes snapped to her. Hermione eyes widened. She sharply breathed in and stepped away from the potion, walking back to the rest of the students.
"Ah, Ms. Granger, Harry's told me all about you and so have the teachers about you and Tom Riddle and how bright you two are. So, then I suppose you must be Tom Riddle?" Slughorn's gaze swept quickly across the class looking at the boy he had seen earlier.
"I am, sir." Tom Riddle. He responded and flashed Slughorn a debonair smile. Hermione heard some girls smile. She rolled her eyes.
"Jolly good, then!" Slughorn turned away from Tom and his smile immediately dropped.
It never ceased to amaze Hermione how easily he could put up his façade and drop it as he pleases.
"Well, now Amortentia doesn't create actual love, no that would be impossible—"
Hermione felt his intense gaze on her again. Her eyes flickered to him and he looked right past her before looking away. She dropped her gaze but couldn't help the small smile that crept up her face.
"—but it causes a rather powerful infatuation or obsession. And for that reason, it is probably the most dangerous potion in this room."
Firewood, spear parchment and monsoon rain.
She was drawn to him the first time she saw him, but not for the reasons you might think.
"Now," Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat after introducing Slughorn as he continued addressing the Great Hall. "There's also another newcomer our school" whispers spread like wildfire amidst the students. "I'd like to introduce to our new 6th year student, Tom Riddle." The Great Hall's doors opened with a bang and in strode a tall slender boy, no—young man—with the air of an aristocrat. His chiselled chin, styled hair and immaculate hair made him look like royalty. But his eyes, they were…...
Girls were entranced by him, attracted to him, drawn to him, and so was Hermione, but not how you'd think.
Hermione couldn't stand him the moment he entered. She felt something wrong—something very wrong. And his eyes…...something about them threw Hermione off. While other girls may have though that they were emerald-like and gorgeous, Hermione thought they were smouldering. They suffocated her every time she looked at him.
Hermione looked at Dumbledore when Tom reached the dais and at the same time Dumbledore's eyes swept across the crowd but stopped when he looked at her. Dumbledore held her gaze her a minute and her eyes darted between him and Riddle. They both shared a mutual understanding—there was something off with Riddle.
Riddle.
What an appropriate name, she mused. He was exactly that. An enigma, a riddle.
She looked at him.
He was staring at her, again.
It was a few weeks into the year and Hermione only grew more wary of Riddle. At first, he hadn't noticed her, but when classes began his gaze always lingered on her a moment late. She couldn't tell if he was trying to unnerve her but if he was, it was working.
Classes became somewhat of an unsaid competition between them. It was to see when was smarter. They always tied—until for once they didn't.
"A 98, Granger?" he tsked "I expected more from you." Her face flushed.
"Well, what did you get then?" she bit back. He smirked and threw his paper on her desk.
"Your defeat." And he walked away. She screamed into her pillow that night.
She didn't want to meet his eyes. But curiosity overtook her. Still in pain, she looked at him.
And he enchanted her.
She slowly found herself paying attention to him more.
He was attractive, magnetic, electric. He had a thirst for Knowledge that no-one else had except her. And he wanted power.
And before she knew it, she smelled him in her Amortentia.
And he knew.
He warily began approaching her.
"Do you really believe in all that pureblood garbage? Come on, Tom."
"You misunderstood me. I don't hate Muggles or mudbloods—" she winced at the term "—, Granger."
The were in the library. She was leaning on a book shelf and he stood in front of her.
"Well then what do you mean?!" she was angry. That was an understatement.
"I simply don't think they are as great as wizards with magic lineage. You're right, muggles have made many accomplishments in the name of Science, which our world is completely behind on. But then again, the Wizarding World never needed Science in the first place. And mudbloods can stay in our world. They can't really fit in with muggles anyway."
"Oh, really? Then why were you intent on releasing the basilisk in the first place if you don't hate muggleborns?" No one else knew it was him. Dumbledore and she were the only ones to figure it out. Not that they could do anything about it, really.
"Alright so I was trying to purify the school—"
"Purify?!"
"Oh, come off it, Granger!"
"No, I won't! How can you deem them unworthy like that? How can you just decide whose life to end and who the spare?! Why do you think that muggleborns are inferior? Am I inferior, Tom?!"
He sighed.
"Granger, you proved yourself. The rest of the mud—" he saw her face and stopped "—muggleborns—"she smiled but immediately caught herself. He saw. "—haven't."
"But why should someone have to prove themselves worthy enough to simply live?"
"I'll be honest with you; I have no intention of killing muggleborns."
"Except for Myrtle—"
"Which was a tragic accident." He said with mock sadness. "Every drop of magic blood spilled is a waste, whether it be purebloods' blood, half-bloods' or muggleborns'." Her eyes softened a little at that. "But muggles are still lower than wizards and nothing you can say or do will convince me otherwise." And her eyes hardened again.
How could some be so—so—
"God, I hate you, Tom."
He looked at her—no—he set her on fire. The intensity of his eyes, the dark forest greens mixed with the color of lime…and the sparks of silver in them…. the shadows it cast on her, the enchantments…she realized something.
When she first saw his eyes, she didn't know what to call them.
Now she knew.
'Beautiful'.
"We both know that's not true, Hermione."
He said her name. She loved the way it sounded, though hell would freeze over before she admitted it.
He leaned closer and she began backing away. The closer he got, the more it unnerved her. He kept talking towards her until he had her backed up against the shelf. He caged her with his hands.
"Do you hate me, Hermione?" he asked with mock sincerity. She was blushing so much, too much. She felt like her face was burning. But she still held a serious gaze, trying not to cower.
"I—I—you know that I—well—it's obvious that—"
"How about I answer the question?" he was an inch away from her face now. She was shaking. Her knees were going to buckle under her at any moment He was just about to near her lips until he shifted his head to whisper in her ear.
"You do, Granger. You hate me so much you can't take your eyes off me. But hate isn't the only thing you feel about me."
He leaned away from her and began walking away out of the library with a smirk plastered on his face.
She wanted nothing more than to slap that smirk off his face.
And then she realized.
When he left, she immediately collapsed to the ground, crying, shaking.
He was everything she ever wanted. Everything she ever dreamed of, yet he had qualities that were everything she went against. He was intelligent, ambitious, confident, power-hungry, a charmer, charismatic, electric, magnetic.
It was like she was in a forest.
It's dark. It's cold. And she's alone. And then she sees a light. What would her first instinct be? To go to the light of course, anything to get her out of the darkness. But what if that light is what'll kill her? She'll try to not go to it, of course. She'll try to keep going deep into the forest, trying to escape, but she's still drawn to the light because it's the only comfort she's offered in the dark. She tries so hard to escape from it. But it's like a siren, lowering her in.
So, she touched it.
And now she's in trouble. Deep, deep trouble.
He was everything she ever wanted. And yet she hated herself for wanting him.
Because in the end,
She was attracted to a murderer.
He kneeled down beside her. Here she was lying on the ground, that word engraved in her skin.
'Mudblood'.
She saw something akin to guilt in his eyes. She didn't think he'd cry, no matter how he felt about her. He didn't cry.
But she still didn't know how he felt about her.
"Tom…" she trailed off in pain. Her body was on fire.
Every single fucking thing hurt.
It felt like she was being stabbed with a knife over and over again everywhere. Her head kept hitting the marble ground as she trashed in pain. The Cruciatus curse was truly horrifying. Despicable.
Evil.
Bellatrix grinned and stopped. She summoned a knife and approached Hermione. "Time to brand you, mudblood." She cackled mercilessly, her maniacal laughter echoing the Manor.
Hermione closed her eyes. She was never one to pray, but that was all she could do now.
The last thing remembered was going unconscious.
And now she's awake.
"Tom," she spoke again. "What hap—" her words froze as she looked at the floor from where she saw laying. She saw Bellatrix, Fenrir, Scabior, all of them. Dead. Her eyes widened in horror.
"Granger, they deserved it." He said simply.
"Who are you to—" he growled.
"They fucking hurt you. No, they tortured you. And you want them to live?"
"No, I—"
"What is wrong with you?!"
"I don't want you to tear your soul." She said weakly. He went quiet with that. "Help me get up, will you?"
And then he remembered something.
"Oh, crap—Granger we have to get out of here. Now."
"Wait what? What happened?"
"Voldemort. He's coming. Bellabitch summoned him." She almost snorted at that.
"Wait but Harry, Ron—"
"Are already at out. I got them out. Come on—"
He apparated with her.
"Tom?" Hermione look at him over his paper.
"Yes?"
"Do you….." she hesitated. "...do you mind that I'm a muggleborn?"
He looked at her, contemplating.
"Would've preferred you as a pureblood or half-blood, but no." She narrowed her eyes and hit him with her parchment. He was baffled by her childish act. "Granger what—"
"Nothing. Just nothing."
Tom sat outside Hogwarts, thinking. He wasn't really afraid of the Death Eaters because none of the could do anything to him. Everyone else were in the castle right now, preparing to battle with the Death Eaters. And apparently Wonder Boy was going to die in Voldemort's hands.
Voldemort had ordered the Death Eaters not to kill him—not that they could, he could take them down with a hand—because if he died, Voldemort dies. But it wouldn't be the other way around. That's how time works, anyway. Kill your past self, your future self won't exist.
He zoned out of everything, thinking back to when he saw Hermione, lying on the ground, scarred for life.
Mudblood
At that moment, he was thankful. Thankful for not becoming Voldemort. Thankful for bringing himself to the future to see what a disgusting creature he'd become if he didn't listen to Dumbledore that night.
That night. That one night that changed everything.
"Tom, would you truly like to see what becomes of your future if you go on like this?"
An older Dumbledore than what he was used to just appeared out of nowhere, saying that he's in danger. And then proceeds to tell him that he's from the future and he wants him to change otherwise a crazy lunatic would take over the world. What was he supposed to think besides the fact that Dumbledore was insane? And even if he wasn't, hell would freeze over before he trusted that old coot. But he listened anyway.
He showed him memories. The future. Dumbledore was breaking a million time-travel laws by this but at that point, he was probably desperate.
Tom had refused to believe Dumbledore at first. He refused to think that that's how he'd end—a lunatic. But he knew the old coot was telling him the truth. Like Dumbledore himself, Tom had a gift for telling when people were lying.
But something still bothered Tom. If he was here now, then doesn't that mean that his future self wouldn't exist? Apparently not. According to 'Winston's Laws of Magic and Time-Travel' when Dumbledore related it with Horcruxes, since Voldemort had split is soul and been resurrected twice, he was essentially a different person now., though he'd still depend on Tom for a past.
Granger.
He couldn't help but feel guilt as he saw here there. She looked so…...broken. He actually felt tortured himself when he heard her soul-shattering screams. They pierced into him, etched into him. He wouldn't ever forget them.
And that was a curse.
"Granger, stay with me." She wanted to fight. He wanted her to stay. "Stay with me."
Three simple words.
To anyone looking it may have seemed like a demand. But she knew. He was pleading.
She first realized she liked him when she smelt her Amortentia. She concluded that it may have just been dulling her senses. Dulling his senses. But it was not Amortentia. But from 'like' it went to 'attracted'. From 'attracted' to 'obsessed'. From 'obsessed' to 'cared'. From 'cared' to…..
Voldemort and Harry stood, wand against wand. It was a miracle that Harry was alive, really. The Boy Who Had Survived the Killing Curse Twice. Voldemort was speaking. His words were dumped over her like freezing water. She didn't have the guts to look at Tom. She was in shock. She didn't wan to know if what Voldemort was saying was true. There's no way that Tom was—no—he wasn't—
"You're all fools None of you even realized who he was, too entranced by him, or rather, me. I—" He cackled manically. Ron was about to lunge at Tom and strangle him when Hermione spoke.
"He's not."
…..from cared to loved…
Everyone froze.
Voldemort inhaled sharply through his nose in annoyance. "Who dares interrupt me?" in a soft, deathly tone.
"He's not you." Hermione spat out with venom. No-one had ever seen her like that before. Ron was frightened.
"Hermione's right." Harry spoke next. Dumbledore brought him here because he wasn't Voldemort. They're two different people now."
"And he never will be you, Voldemort. And after today, you'll cease to exist." There were gasps heard from the Death Eaters. Hermione knew she was threading on a dangerous rope; annoying Voldemort was only going to fuel his rage. But she had enough.
A Death Eater rose to speak "How dare you say our Master's name! You filthy—"
"Filthy little mudblood, yes, yes, I've heard that one before." Harry couldn't help but smirk at Hermione. And Tom, throughout the whole thing he said nothing. His eyes narrowed, silently darted between his lunatic-self and Hermione. But he was taken aback when she spoke in his favour. He thought she'd hate him.
"Enough." Tom spoke. His tone silenced everyone. He was intimidating that way. Even the Death Eaters looked up to him in some way. He walked out and stood.
"I'll give you one chance." He solely spoke to the Death Eaters "if anyone would like to join my ranks instead of a lunatic's" Voldemort growled "you may step forward. I'll offer you the world you want with a few compromises so you don't destroy everything." After a moment of contemplation, few made their way to step forward but immediately froze when they saw Voldemort's sharp gaze. They knew that if they survived this battle, they were fucked.
Tom smirked.
"See how loyal they are to you? My, how you've fallen. Insane now. You're no longer as brilliant as you once were. Shame." He tsked. "Now, let's end this."
Chaos irrupted.
Absolute, utter chaos.
Or as Ron would say, "Bloody Hell."
"Avada—"
"Cruci—"
"Expelli—"
Hermione could hear spells everywhere. She couldn't think. She was casting and running and casting. If someone was a Death Eater, she'd aim for them That's it. She and Ron split up looking for Nagini. She wanted to see Tom but she knew she couldn't now. Sweat dripped off her head and in a moment of distraction she was hit with stupefy. She got back up and began battling the Death Eater immediately who she recognised as Rodolphus Lestrange.
"This is for my wife, you bitch!" it was getting harder to block him. It wasn't that he was stronger than her but her leg was hit with a stinging hex earlier so she couldn't walk properly.
"Oh, really? Well last time I checked she was sleeping with Voldemort!" she knew she was going overboard but she was just done. Fuelled with rage. And that hit Rodolphus hard. He broke her shield and she fell backwards with the impact. He smirked down on her.
"Say 'Goodbye', mudblood." Just as he was about to cast the Killing Curse, Tom cast a painful Cruciatus Curse. Not that the curse wasn't already painful, mind you, but from Tom, it was a whole new level.
"Tom stop—"
"Oh, come on Granger—"
"No really we have to find the snake and—" he rolled his eyes and killed Rodolphus. Hermione's eyes widened at his nonchalance but she dragged him by the hand and they kept going.
"Alright so Neville has the sword of Gryffindor and now if we can just kill the snake—"
"Voldemort will be left to Harry, yes, yes."
Hermione and Tom were in front of Hogwarts a little behind Harry where he was with Voldemort when they saw Nagini. She was about to attack them but stopped when she saw Tom. He approached the snake and slowly began to tame it in Parseltongue. Hermione slowly beckoned Neville to come from the other side and just as Tom backed away, Neville struck.
Nagini faded in smoke. Hermione looked at Tom with a grin which fell when she saw his reaction. And then she remembered.
"I don't get it. Is it a Slytherin thing?" she asked him annoyed.
"Well I am a Slytherin." He replied. She rolled her eyes. She was about to retort when he spoke. "I had a snake pet."
Hermione grew silent.
"She was the only thing I really cared for, at the time. And by 'care' I don't mean 'love' 'cause that's a ridiculous sentiment." Hermione snorted "But I literally cared for her. Gave her food and all.'
"What happened to her?"
His eyes went cold. "She…died."
She realized he lied. Nagini was the snake.
It was all or nothing now. Harry had and Voldemort's magic collided sending sparks all across. Green to red, it flashed power.
This was it.
All or nothing.
All or nothing.
All or nothing.
…
Voldemort fell. His corpse faded off into dust, the last piece of his soul gone.
They won.
….
Hogwarts was a broken mess, but people returned every day to fix it. Funerals were held for those who they'd lost. To those not involved in the War but merely there at the time, it was a time to celebrate.
Hermione wanted to slap some sense into them.
They weren't there. They hadn't seen what she'd seen, what her friends had seen, what Harry had seen. And then they celebrate. It wasn't a time to celebrate. It was a time to honor the dead, not partly like a Saturday night!
…..
He saw her. He saw how truly shattered she was at Andromeda's funeral, or as she called her 'Tonks'.
"They had a child, Tom…. a child…."
She never slept that night.
….
She found him at midnight in front of Dumbledore's tombstone. The moonlight bounced off of his head. It almost looked like he had a halo. She almost snorted at the idea.
He kneeled before it, just staring ahead. She slowly walked to him so as to not ruin his tranquillity.
"I never thanked him, Granger."
She looked at him before kneeling beside him. Looking at Tom, she knew he would never be Voldemort. He was changing for the better. This was the first time she'd seen him show real emotion. So, she did the only thing she could think of.
She hugged him.
"Tom?"
He didn't respond but she knew he was listening.
Now or never.
"I love you."
He never replied. She never wanted him to.
After all of this, after everything that happened, Hermione truly wonders just how she came to love him. A part of her still believes that she was just somehow under Amortentia. But when she looked at him, she knew.
It was not Amortentia.
Fin.
A/N: Constructive Criticism and reviews are appreciated. I really would like people to review because I'd like to know how I did as an author.