"I am responsible for this incident. Not Tom, not Hermione, this was my failure."

The words reached Hermione's ear as if through a haze. She was too exhausted to move a muscle, her consciousness not yet quite able to decide between the world of dreams and reality, so she heard what was being said but could not yet place who was speaking.

"Galatea!" a man's serious voice cut through the room, "Surely you can't take responsibility for students trying their hand at advanced spells."

The rustle of a robe and soft footsteps sounded as one of the arguing people paced back and forth in obvious turmoil. "Yes, I can, Albus! That's exactly the problem. Your niece used a defensive spell that I never taught and I didn't intervene. I should never have allowed that to happen. I don't know if she learned that one in America, but she obviously didn't know it was so easily destroyed. I should have stopped when I saw that!"

Hermione's head began to clear. Slowly, her memory returned, of the duel, of the defence spell, of Tom. She tried to open her eyes, but still her body would not obey her. At least she realised by now that she was probably lying in a bed in the hospital wing, and that it was Dumbledore and her teacher Merrythought who were talking beside her bed.

"Hermione and Tom are both brilliant students. We all know they read and learn books in their spare time, of course they know more spells than we ever taught them. You can't blame yourself for that," Dumbledore objected forcefully but still gently, "I would rather ask what exactly it was that Tom hurled at Hermione. I've never heard of such a spell."

The steps paused. "It wasn't a spell. From what I observed, he managed to turn his magical energy into a projectile. Normal spells and curses, as you know, only expend a small amount of energy, so a shield like Hermione's can easily absorb it. Against pure energy, however ... the shield holder must be prepared."

Straining, Hermione tried to remember what Tom had said. Sure, they had both cast wordless spells, but she had still been able to identify a number of his spells. That was the really important thing in duels: Recognise what your opponent is throwing at you and react accordingly. The last spell, however, had no form, no colour, nothing. It made sense that it had probably just been energy. And knowing Tom, he had access to a much greater amount of energy than any other wizard.

"Pure energy?" Dumbledore murmured thoughtfully. "That's interesting. Why would Tom resort to something so ... crude? He's usually a very elegant duellist, isn't he?"

The creak of a chair indicated that Merrythought sat down again. "Oh, believe me, no one is as elegant and controlled in duels as Tom. I almost suspect he got impatient because he couldn't even scratch Hermione. You know he's very ambitious and doesn't cope well with defeat. He's the best student I've ever had. But good students tend to overdo it in ambition sometimes. Weren't you like that yourself when you were younger, Albus? I remember a very ambitious student ..."

"Don't start mothering me again, Galatea!", Dumbledore cut her off, but Hermione heard that it was meant kindly. Briefly, she wondered how old her Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher must be that she had even taught Dumbledore before.

"I just want to say that Tom is not to blame. He masterfully used all the spells he learned before he seriously tried to win the duel. He did everything right."

"And the consequence of his doing it right is that now my niece is lying here unconscious in bed!" returned Dumbledore.

A chair was pushed back. "I will talk to Armando and explain what happened. I will not allow this incident to remain as a negative stain on Tom's spotless school record. It was my responsibility, Albus. I know you never liked Tom, but to accuse him of deliberately attacking your niece is going too far. Your judgement is clouded. Tom is not to blame."

Solid footsteps moved away, then a door slammed with exaggerated force. Hermione lay there with bated breath - she was uncomfortable, having overheard this conversation, and she did not want to draw attention to herself under any circumstances.

"You are welcome to move now, my dear," Dumbledore's amused voice told her.

Caught, Hermione's eyes snapped open. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, sir, honestly I didn't. I just woke up."

An indulgent smile was on Dumbledore's lips as he moved his chair closer to her bed. The light of the late afternoon sun streamed in through the high windows, illuminating his still-young face. Although he was smiling, Hermione could see concern in his eyes. Cautiously, she tried to move so she could sit up a little. She was wearing a long white shirt that had probably been put on her by the nurse. After she made it to a semi-sitting position, she looked at her supposed uncle. "Professor Merrythought is right. Tom is not guilty. At least not alone."

Surprise reflected in Dumbledore's eyes. "You're defending him? You of all people?"

She smiled in anguish. "Tom may have shady motives, but it definitely wasn't his aim to kill - or seriously injure - me. Believe me, he ... he wouldn't do that. Not anymore. This really was an accident. His ambition and temper got the better of him. And I did a lot to provoke him."

Her professor shook his head. "It's a strange relationship you have. But please, take care of yourself. It's not okay for Tom to hurt you. Violence shouldn't be a common aspect of a relationship."

Involuntarily, Hermione laughed. "Oh, but it has been for a long time, Professor. For a long time. But don't worry, I know how unhealthy it is. I know it shouldn't be normal. But with Tom ... there's nothing normal about it."

Face still contorted with worry, Dumbledore placed a hand on her arm. "I don't know if I can take much more of this. Of course, you must not tell me too much, but if your health is suffering, it may be time to abandon the mission."

Outraged, Hermione straightened further. "Abort? With all due respect, sir, but I can't. If only because I'm trapped here anyway. Have you forgotten that? I can't leave here; I might as well get on with it. Whether I'm killed by time at the end of the school year or by Tom before, what does it matter? As long as we don't know how I'm going to get back, I'm going to carry on as before!"

Suddenly it dawned on her what she had just said. Horrified, she slapped a hand over her mouth and glanced around the room, but no one was in sight. Mortified, she looked to Dumbledore.

"Don't worry, I've made sure our conversation can't be overheard," he reassured her, "And as for your comment about time travel ... come to my office on Sunday, I suspect I'm a little further along than I was before."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "You found a way back for me?"

oOoOoOo

"Mr. Riddle, what can I do for you?"

The nurse's frail voice reached Hermione's ear. Instantly she sat up. Of course, she should have expected Tom to call on her later in the day. It was a wonder he had waited until after dinner to do so anyway.

"I'm responsible for Miss Dumbledore's presence here," she heard his contrite retort, "So it's only appropriate that I pay her a sick call, don't you think?"

"I was just going down to the kitchen for dinner. Perhaps you could..."

"That's no problem at all. Don't worry, I won't overwhelm your patient. Or do you have other concerns about leaving me alone with her?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course, the nurse was not going to leave a young man and woman alone, certainly not when the woman was in bed. But the way Tom phrased his question - and presumably he put on his typical charming smile - she could hardly say to the ever-popular Head Boy's face that decency actually forbade her to do so. So, after a brief moment of silence, she gave an unsettled reply, "Of course not. So ... I'll be back in half an hour."

Footsteps moved away, then Tom came out of the entrance area into the hospital room. Like a cat, he moved towards Hermione, and with each of his soundless footsteps she felt more of pure magic swirling around him, making the air crackle. Oh yes, Tom Riddle was furious. His expression was unmoving, his movements elegant and fluid as always. A less powerful wizard probably would not have noticed that something changed in the air around him. But Hermione was experienced and powerful enough, and so it did not escape her notice. Not at all.

"Hello, Tom," she greeted him as casually as she could as she sat up a little more.

"Hello, my dear," he replied softly, "How are you?"

He did not wait for an invitation from her, but simply sat close beside her on the edge of the bed, from where he could rest a hand on her arm. A shiver ran down Hermione's spine: his hand was ice cold.

"Better," she returned, still struggling for composure, "Still a little weak, but that's to be expected."

"Yes, it's to be expected," he confirmed as his fingers stroked up and down her upper arm as if unintentionally. The gesture was loving and tender, but the coldness of his fingers and the magic Hermione could feel around him betrayed the outward appearance.

"I had a long, unpleasant conversation with your uncle," Tom finally explained. He eased away from her and instead rested both hands on his thigh, but his eyes fixed firmly on her, "He seems to think I deliberately meant to hurt or even kill you. Strange how negative he thinks of me, eh?"

Snidely, Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Oh, please. First of all, you can't blame him for worrying about me. And secondly, this is really nothing new. As far as I can tell from your relationship, he's looked at you with attentive curiosity and distance from the start. If you then walk through the castle and behave in a conspicuous manner, he will naturally become suspicious. So don't blame that on me."

"You seem to know a lot about how we are to each other."

"Neither you nor he make a secret of your mutual dislike."

Tom was silent for a long time, his eyes fixed on the closed door of the hospital wing - Hermione had not even realised he locked it behind him. Then, without warning, he leaned far over her, his hands clasped tightly around her upper arms, and eyed her intently.

"I'm beginning to doubt you'll ever learn, my heart," he hissed at her, and now he clearly relinquished all control over his magic. Hermione could almost see the flashes of energy swirling around him, while at the same time she felt almost crushed by both his body and his magic, "You really had to defy me, didn't you? In public at that?"

His choice of words suddenly turned Hermione's panic into hot anger. "Defy? Defy? Tom, this isn't always about you! The duel is a test of our abilities! Do you really think I'm going to hold back on this just so you can feel vastly superior?"

"I AM superior to you!", Tom almost shouted, but Hermione could only shake her head.

"If you're so superior to me," she scoffed with contempt, "then why did you have to resort to pure magic to break a simple shield of mine, huh? Pure magic! That's so crude and uncivilised I'd almost laugh at it if you hadn't actually hurt me!"

His hand jerked forward and wrapped icily around her throat. "You are mine, Hermione. You're supposed to submit to me, not embarrass me."

Deep inside Hermione felt something shatter. She had had enough of this. She had enough of Tom and his lust for power. May he be Lord Voldemort one day, may he be a powerful wizard, his constant drivel that she belonged to him and had to submit to him was infuriating her. With a forceful wave of her hand, she wiped both his arms aside - and to her surprise, Tom was actually pushed off the edge of her bed.

He quickly scrambled to his feet, but just as he was obviously about to hurl a curse at her in earnest, he paused in his movement.

Hermione was glowing, she could feel it herself. Burning, pure magic flowed out of her, swirling around her form lying in bed, making the air crackle as much as Tom's. She inhaled deeply. There was an unimaginable amount of energy flowing around her, but she sensed that much, much more lay deep within her, waiting to be released. It was intoxicating, almost arousing. She had never felt her magical powers so clearly before, never known how powerful she actually was. Resolutely, she fixed her gaze on Tom, determined to make him understand once and for all that she was not a toy.

But to her confusion, Tom himself no longer looked angry. On the contrary, he was smiling. He smiled openly and honestly.

"You are beautiful," she heard him whisper. Before she processed his words, he was back on her bed, above her, kissing her with a passion she had never experienced before.

And when Hermione felt his magic mingling with hers, little flashes of pure energy flaring between them, she could not help but return his passion. She buried her hands in his hair, pulled him closer and excitedly opened her mouth to greet his tongue with hers.

His lips were everywhere, on her lips, on her cheeks, on her neck. Silence dominated the room, interrupted only by her moans and sighs and the soft rustle of the bedspread that still separated them.

"You are mine," she heard Tom murmur hoarsely in her ear, "You are mine, only mine. Only mine."

Over and over, he murmured those words to himself, but it did not bother her as it had before. Instead, she felt intoxicated. It was no longer that commanding tone, that statement full of contempt. It was almost a plea, a mantra that he kept repeating in the hope that it would come true. He wanted to possess her. She had something; she was something he wanted to possess.

It was in that moment, entwined in Tom Riddle's embrace, littered with his kisses, surrounded by their shared magic, that Hermione Granger realised Voldemort had lost to her.

End of Remorse I

Hey dearest readers!
This is the end of part 1 of my Remorse-Trilogy. The journey of Hermione and Tom will continue on Monday with part 2 "Remorse II - Into The Chamber", which will have 55 chapters. I will try and update once a week on Monday, perhaps even twice a week. I hope you'll continue to read and support my version of Tomione. If you want to leave comments, that is very much appreciated, but you reading this story is already everything I could ever wish for.
You will find Remorse II - Into The Chamber on my profile on Monday. I am looking forward to greet you all there!
See you next Monday!
Thoronris