She tensed, a smile refusing to manifest itself on her face.
She just stared at the man in front of her unable to look away or put together the pieces.
This boy was beautiful. Not just good looking, but handsome to the point it hurt to look at him. He had angular cheekbones, dark hair and dark almost black eyes.
And it wasn't just the beauty of his face, posture, and not even the air of self-confidence that made him handsome.
He looked trustworthy. He looked like someone who cares. He looked so decidedly human that she felt the urge to claw at his face and rip it off.
Celia coughed suggestively as no words followed.
"How do you do, miss Wells? Celia asked me to accompany you to our next class so you wouldn't get lost. Tricky stairs, countless corridors", he explained humbly.
She blinked.
Tom Riddle looked at Celia arching one eyebrow as if in question.
"I'll be late to Divination so you are in Tom's care now", Celia all but pushed Hermione to Riddle. "Thank you, Tom, I'll leave you to that then", and she went away.
Tom Riddle looked at the retreating girl and then switched his attention back to Hermione.
"Shall we, miss Wells?" He said gesturing forward. She noded not sure if her voice wouldn't crack. But Riddle didn't seem to mind.
In fact, he was quite comfortable with silence. And she herself greeted silence as a form of salvation at the moment. She dared not look at him and even went a step behind so that he wouldn't look at her accidentally or out of curiosity. Her heart race has quickened and her right hand was instinctively floating over the wand pocket. She could almost make out its weight and it was reassuring.
They reached their final destination in a matter of minutes which to her seemed a whole eternity. She wondered vaguely if that's how hell is supposed to feel? She was hot from nerves, and beads of sweat were forming on her forehead.
"If you need my assistance, miss Wells, please feel free to ask me, it's my duty as Head Boy to help you adjust", he offered with a collected smile before leaving her to settle at one of the furthest tables while he joined other Slytherins at the front table.
Hermione sat and spent the first ten minutes of the lesson chastising herself for feeling so ridiculously small and weak in the presence of a future Dark Lord.
But she spent the rest of the lesson unable to tear her eyes away from him.
His knowledge, understanding, and master of Ancient Runes was something completely on another level. He answered the questions with ease and certainty, he eluded precision and turned the subject which was mostly based on intelligent guesses into an instrument of manifesting his undoubtful brilliance. His intellect shone and spoke volumes about the power of a human brain, his brain.
Hermione knew the answers to the questions as well but was unable to raise a hand too concentrated on witnessing one of the brightest minds she's ever encountered. And although she could debate some of his most dubious concepts, she found herself so entranced that no debate followed.
She felt something very much like fascination. But this fascination was spiked with so much venom and disgust that she almost felt physically sick at the sight of him.
He could have become a Minister of Magic, a researcher, a scientist, a teacher, a revolutioner, anyone!, she thought feeling angry helpless tears choking her insides at the thought of what he's done. Instead, he used this brilliant brain to destroy, kill, torture, mutilate both souls and bodies.
With every correct answer, correct assumption, and well-explained theory, her disgust for him kept on rising and by the end of the lesson, she could say that she never loathed anyone, not even the elder Voldemort, more in her entire life.
For Hermione knowledge and intellect were important, and she hated to see wasted talent. And Tom Riddle was the absolution of a waste. Was this human going to gradually turn into the monster she knew or was this monster posing as a human being from the very beginning, she wondered. Upon finding no answer, she loathed him passionately.
He earned Slytherin about 40 points, they congratulated him saying something like "well done, as always, as expected, never fail to impress… "
"Miss Wells, me and my friends are going to Defence Against the Dark Arts, your Transfiguration lesson is in the same direction so we can accompany you", said Tom Riddle turning to her with a polite smile as two of the men sitting at his side rose from their seats.
She looked at them for the first time.
"Oh, forgive me my manners, this is Dimitriy Dolohov and Alastar Nott", he introduced her to his loyal followers.
She looked at the three of them, flashes of deaths, screams, and broken lives before her eyes.
"I can find the way", she said brusquely.
"Hogwarts can be complicated", Riddle replied politely. She wanted to scream.
"I will manage", she almost whispered feeling her throat contracting with anger and only wishing to stay as far away as possible from him and his future Death Eaters.
Riddle inclined his head for a fraction. There was a look of thoughtful scrutiny on his sculptured face and she was furious when she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
"I understand your desire to show that you can manage on your own, miss Wells. I've heard that your previous studies were conducted in a small village school because your parents were not eager to let you go to Hogwarts. May I inquire after the reason for their refusal?"
"They were muggles", she said and this time her eyes stayed locked on his. "I felt reluctant to separate from them".
"Ah, muggles", he said and for someone else, the phrase could have sounded as sympathetic. She knew better, especially when his two friends exchanged suggestive glances. "Whatever made them change their mind?", Riddle asked sounding eager to learn more about a fellow human being.
"My parents were killed", she answered coldly.
"My sincerest apologies for raising such a painful subject", Riddle almost solemnly put his hand over the heart, his sad eyes conveying his worry. "I'd hate to inflict more pain", he supplied as Nott snorted and tried to cover it with a cough. A sympathetic smile on Riddle's face never flattered.
Hermione felt a strong desire to spit at him.
"Don't worry, you won't", she said and smiled for the first time since she found herself in the past. It was a triumphant smile, of the sort, because she knew for sure that since she was alone here, there was no one close to her whom he could hurt. As for physical pain, she's learned to endure it. And return.
Riddle's eyes lit up from the inside.
"If you are sure…We shall get going if any of us wants to be on time", he said and left the empty classroom with his friends following him. Hermione closed her eyes, inhaled, and left the classroom shortly after.