Hi! I'm back with another chapter. I'm rather happy with this story.
Song: Drugs by UPSAHL (I'm not tryna make a friend or fall in love. So, just stop the faking. Not here for nameless faces, pointless talk in conversation.)
Hermione knew that she was being followed when she started seeing shadows out of the corner of her eye when no one was there. Oh, Riddle. When will you learn to enlist men who aren't incompetent baboons?
She wasn't surprised, having expected the young Dark Lord to try and dig up some facts about her. She smirked, knowing that he would find next to nothing about her. She was was slightly confused as to why he would try and research her, knowing that she was a time-traveller.
Perhaps he was operating under the assumption that she was daft enough to keep her name from the future, therefore thinking her parents could be traced. As if she'd choose real people to foster her falsehoods.
She took great pleasure in knowing that his prejudiced followers would be punished for their lack of information. Serves them right, aligning themselves with the bastard. She thought nastily.
Tonight, though, she was rather tired of being tailed. This absolute fool had been carelessly shadowing her for nearly a week, not realizing that she knew of his existence. So, she figured the best way to deal with this arrogant prick was to confront him and then obliviate him.
She set a tripping charm nonverbally as she went about her usual route after dinner. I really should stop making my movements so predictable. Every night she detoured to the Library for some late-night reading, when there was no one to judge her on what she read. By now, she knew how to evade Madam Pince effortlessly.
She delighted in hearing this boy hit the ground, and then curse as he realized she'd known all along. Clearly, either Riddle hadn't warned them well enough, or this pitiful man had underestimated her.
"You can take your invisibility charm off. I know you're there. You performed the charm poorly. I could still see your shadow." Hermione informed him softly, smiling darkly. The boy audibly sighed before his form was made visible. He was clearly a Nott, with rabbity features and dark hair. He looked resigned, frowning, and looking up at her with dismay.
"You really should have listened to Tom. I'm most definitely more dangerous than you expected. Up you go." she said mockingly, hauling him up by his arm and shoving him into the abandoned classroom she had made sure was conveniently close by. She shut and locked the door behind her, casting silencing charms.
"I'm Thoros Nott, Miss. Selwyn. I really don't want to hurt you." He said, trying to seem kind. But Hermione could see the hatred glittering in his eyes over the fact that a girl had forced him into submission.
"Nice try, love. It's your eyes; I can see them. When you lie, lower your lashes. Then nobody can see the gleam." Hermione replied, watching his face contort into an enraged expression. Hermione nearly smiled. At least he wasn't lying.
"A girl, telling me, a man, how to lie?! Pathetic!" He spat, getting up and trying to subtly draw his wand. Hermione rolled her eyes and disarmed him non-verbally, watching in satisfaction as his wand flew into her hand. At first, his eyes widened in shock. Then, he charged at her. Hermione was really getting bored of him.
She cast a quiet petrificus totalus at him, watching him freeze and topple over. His eyes were the only part of him able to move, but they couldn't convey much expression other then rage and hatred. Without preamble, she dove into his mind.
Immediately, she encountered his mental barriers. They were rather substantial, but she was able to push past them after a few minutes. Dumbledore had been a great trainer, and she'd had quite a bit of practice. His mind was organized, his thoughts and memories tucked into neat little sections.
His magic felt like a hot, sticky summer day. A day thick with moisture and fog. She pushed past the unpleasant sensation and began searching for his latest encounter with Riddle. It was pushed away, leading her to imagine that these meetings were rather traumatic.
In the mind, she knew that memories or emotions shoved off to the side was really the subconscious trying to block out bad experiences. She prodded the memory lightly, making sure it wasn't a fake. She entered the memory, encountering a slight wobble while inside the memory. It felt like the very walls of it were unstable.
Altered, then?
Hermione poked at it some more, watching it slowly slough away, revealing a more steady, stable memory. This memory had a palpable sense of dread laying through out it; it was how she knew it was the right one. The memory also had a darker tone to it, like a painting done the same way but with darker colours.
While the false memory had seemed almost movie-like, this one was more real. She could feel Nott's dread, his anxiousness, and his incapacitating fear. The thoughts associated with the memory ranged from his fear of being randomly tortured to his curiosity about this apparently unexpected meeting.
Nott's memory was tinged with black, as if looking through a dirty lens. Hermione knew from her extensive training with Dumbledore that this meant the memory was tinged with residue of Dark magic. Even if you didn't cast the spell, if another used a potent curse, say, The Unforgivable's, it left a residue on the environment.
"I want all of you to find out as much as you can about Ophelia Selwyn. Follow her, check the Ministry records, I don't care. Just make sure she does not know what you are doing. Be careful around her, she may be more dangerous than she seems. Malfoy, you are to befriend her immediately." He ordered, glancing at Malfoy.
Nott was jealous. He wanted to find out more about this girl personally, Malfoy just wanted to fuck her.
"Also, don't touch her. That goes for all of you. Now, I need to get my frustrations out." He announced, training his wand at all of them in turn. Nott contained his shudder; a man was going to be cursed tonight.
Nott watched in fear and slight curiosity as Rowle was tortured. He didn't feel bad for the prick. He was arrogant and ignorant. He overestimated himself, showed off skills he didn't possess.
Rowle's vomit was pungent and acidic. The curse was held by their Lord for three minutes and forty seconds. Nott counted, to keep record of who could withstand it the longest without passing out. So far, Mulciber was in the lead.
"Mulciber, Avery, clean this up and give him a potion. We can't have him suffering the aftershocks in front of others. Remember what I told you; don't touch her and report back to me next meeting. Out, now." He said lowly, watching with distaste as the prone form in front of him was dragged away.
Nott's memory faded as he left the room.
Hermione withdrew from his mind grimly. She had expected as much. She looked down at Nott pitifully, though she could see her pity wasn't wanted or needed. The boy glared up at her, sweat coating his brow due to her penetration of his mind.
"I am terribly sorry for the headache you're about to get, though you won't remember me giving it to you." Hermione said plaintively, watching his eyes widen in recognition as he realized she was going to wipe his memory.
"No, no! He'll realize it the next time he tears into my mind!" Nott cried, backing up from his position on the floor.
"You still underestimate my skill. Rude. Relax, it'll put less strain on your mind." Hermione said exasperatedly, watching him nod in resignation and relax his shoulders.
She set to work, gently reweaving his memories. She let him think that she had tripped him and stunned him. She erased any memory of the encounter in the classroom and took some of the emotional pain away from the memory she had watched.
She re-erected the false memory he had set in place and finished up, stunning him for real and dragging him out to the hallway. She tucked him against the wall and closed the classroom door, though not before she erased any trace of her magic from the room.
She knew Tom would know something had happened, but she was content to let him scrabble for clues.
Hermione sat at the Hufflepuff table, enjoying her breakfast when she realized that yet again, he was sat beside her. It had been happening for a week now. Abraxas Malfoy had, apparently, been ordered to befriend her, according to Nott's memory.
He had sat beside her every morning for the past week, working her patience thin with his tactful questions designed to worm basic information out of her. He would come every morning to sit beside her and chat incessantly in her ear.
Like an annoying little fly, his conversation ranged from polite to sexual innuendos. He seemed to think he was quite a catch, winking at herself and her fellow Hufflepuff ladies. Hermione was rather tired of him, and she was about ready to drag him into a broom closet to hex him senseless.
She forced herself to feel some sort of empathy towards him, knowing he was only acting on his orders so well for fear of torture. But he was so bloody annoying! She imagined that him being a sadistic Malfoy only aided his attempts at driving her round the bend.
"So, Hermione, how've you been? It's been nearly nine hours since I've last talked to you! I've really missed you. I was waiting in that broom closet for you! You weren't just teasing, were you?" Malfoy pouted, his whinging voice grating on her nerves.
She rolled her shoulders and ignored him, sipping her tea and trying not to slouch in her seat. When he realized she wasn't going to be responding to him anytime soon, he began bragging about Quidditch. Hermione got up without a word and left the Hall, trying to make sure she didn't lose control of her magic in front of the blond ponce.
She walked away mindlessly, not paying attention to her surroundings. She payed for that, as she crashed into someone quite quickly.
"Oh, dear. I'm so sorry." She said, before looking up and recognizing the boy.
"No need to be sorry, Miss. Hawthorne." Riddle purred, removing his hand from her elbow. She nearly shuddered.
"Mr. Riddle. Nice to see you again. I'd love to catch up, but I really do need to get to the Library. Urgent studying, you see." Hermione replied through gritted teeth. Riddle smiled at her patronizingly.
"I was just going to find Abraxas to study with me in the Library, but you're a more willing participant. Let's go, then." Riddle announced, flashing her his most charming smile. Hermione was let with no choice, so she managed a pained grimace and walked behind him.
She was just deciding what the most effective hex would be when he whirled around, grabbed her throat and pinned her against an alcove. Hermione's eyes widened in shock, but she wasn't completely surprised. He wasn't squeezing tight enough to cut off her air supply, but he was pressing down quite a bit.
Hermione was rather scared, but she knew that this was just Tom's retribution. He was angry that she had tampered with Nott's mind, or he was just putting on a front for his men and was trying to use intimidation tactics. She pretended to look scared, ready to kick his knee in.
He clearly overestimated his skill, and completely forgot about pinning her legs down. Hermione made sure her mind was locked tight and looked up at Riddle. His previously charming face was now contorted into a mask of barely contained rage, dark eyes glinting red with his outrage.
"You really thought you could mess with Nott's mind and not face the consequences. You little chit! Not only is he one of my best men, but you did it as though it was nothing! I don't know who you think you are, but I am Tom fucking Riddle. You will learn your place." He stated, nearly foaming at the mouth in his outcry. She looked into his eyes, the picture of calm.
"What you forget, dearest Tom, is that I am the most brilliant woman this school has ever seen. So yes, you may be Tom fucking Riddle, but I am Ophelia fucking Selwyn. Your disrespect for women, their intellectuality and their sheer power blinds you." She finished off her statement with a firm kick to his knee, knocking it inwards. She wondered why he hadn't used his wand. The orphanage. Her mind supplied.
He gasped, releasing his grip on her throat, and sliding down into the floor, wrinkling his perfectly pressed slacks and clutching his knee. She looked down at him, huddled on the ground below her.
"You are a blind man, Lord Voldemort. Now, as you kneel to me, you should hope that one day you may see again. Because this will happen, over and over until you learn." She said condescendingly, gripping his hair and looking around once before tilting his head back and meeting his eyes, red and furious. He was observably still shocked at his
She placed a feather-light kiss on his cheek, threw his head back and summoned his wand. His eyes were still gleaming scarlet, but they were also cold and calculating. He was examining her, throwing away his perceptions and replacing them.
She walked away with a slight sway to her hips, casting the Avis charm with his wand. She let the canaries swirl around her, before banishing them. She looked back at Riddle, and he looked utterly betrayed. Did he think that his wand would still be loyal to him after being disarmed? The wand obeyed her quickly, though she felt its distrust.
"My wand, Hawthorne?" He called, standing up and wincing as he gingerly put weight on his injured knee.
"Oh, you'll have it back eventually. Once you show me you've stopped underestimating me, that is." She replied airily. He laughed genuinely and began limping to the Hospital Wing.
"A fall down the stairs, yeah?" Hermione said to him. He turned back to her, and his smirk glinted with retribution.
"And have two students fall down the stairs in the same period? I think not." He replied menacingly. She laughed at his promise of revenge.
"I'm sure I'll think of something clever, then." She reassured him, before sashaying away.
Hermione seems a little arrogant, no?