AU! Tom and Hermione are around the same age. No time travel.
THC
Prompt Challenge: [Speech] "Is 'No' a foreign word to you?"
Ravenclaw, Potions, Standard
Prompts: (action) threatening someone, (location) seaside
WC: 2684/3000
The sounds of the seagulls in the distance and the children playing a few feet away pissed him off to no end. Tom gritted his teeth and stood in the ankle-deep water, wishing that he was far away from this silliness, but nothing happened. The crystal-clear water still lapped at his feet playfully, reminding him he had nowhere else to go, and Tom kicked at it as he stormed down the beach towards the boulders.
Grunting and muttering curses under his breath, Tom crouched and leapt up onto a boulder, using his arms to steady himself, and then onto another, and then another, until he was at a distance from the other orphans and the matron.
Coming to the beach was the silliest and most ridiculous thing Tom had ever done, and it rankled him. He could have been at the orphanage right about now, taking care of the snakes in the garden, studying magic, and plotting world domination like any other twelve-and-a-half-year-old child, but no. Mrs Cole just had to drag him to the beach of all places, claiming it was mandatory for him to attend the stupid picnic. That their sponsors had so genourously paid for this trip over more staff.
He hated picnics. And beaches. He hated how silly they were with everyone continuously yammering on and on, running around and shoving each other, playing in the fish-piss water, and flinging sand into the air as if it was something to celebrate instead of abhorring. Oh, how he hated the sand. It got in his eyes, in between his toes, and heaven forbid if it was wet, it clung to his hands and refused to let go. He hated that it wasn't Hogwarts.
The only thing he didn't mind was the ice-cold water. The last time he had been to the seaside, Tom had thoroughly enjoyed dunking a few of the more annoying orphans under the water and watching them flail about as they tried to come up for air. The joy Tom experienced in seeing the absolute panic in their eyes as bubbles popped up to the surface was insurmountable.
Tom's lips quirked at the memory as he climbed up onto the rock furthest away from the others.
He sat down on the slippery rock, swung his legs over the side, and stared at the horizon. The water shone and shimmered under the bright sunlight, and seagulls cawed like it was a wonderful fucking day. There was absolutely nothing wonderful about it.
The sound of the seagulls echoed at first with a mournful sound, recoiling from the rocks. It rebounded and its vibration resonated in the spacious air. The bouncing and distortion of sound rang out once more. Then it foundered and finally faded away into nothingness.
Tom itched to use hexes on the birds, to watch them hurl themselves into the crystal-clear water. Maybe a shark would materialise out of nowhere and gobble them up. Was there a spell to summon a shark? That would be a very useful spell to learn if Miss Cole kept on dragging him out to the beach. He made a mental note to find a spell like that in the Hogwarts library when he got back to the castle after the summer holidays were over.
Sighing to himself, he picked up a few pebbles off the boulder and tossed them into the sea. Could he manage to hit one of the children on the shore from here? Tom smirked and raised his arm to take aim but then…the rock beneath him split into two.
Tom shot up in a panic and slipped over the algae. He tumbled backwards and off the rock. His life flashed before his eyes. The loud splash he made echoed in his ears, and the waves crashed over him when he landed in the water. Oh, thank Merlin that no one was around to see his humiliation. He would never be able to live it down.
Gasping for breath, Tom kicked his legs and broke through the surface. Salty water surged out of his nostrils, and he spat some more water out, his chest heaving at the effort. He hadn't ever learnt how to swim, but fortunately, he didn't need to know it. The seabed was just a few inches below his feet, so Tom hopped through the water as best as he could, flailing his arms every which way.
This was the most humiliating thing he had ever done, and he was so glad no one was around to see him like this.
"Hey, are you okay? Do you need any help?" a girl's voice called out from somewhere to his right.
He had spoken too soon.
Tom looked up at the girl he would have to either threaten or kill, and his breath got knocked out of his chest.
It was the latest child Miss Cole had brought into the orphanage. Whenever someone new was introduced, Tom stayed as far away from them as possible. The freshly orphaned children were the worst. They only kept on snivelling like dirty brats and clinging to their stuffed toys, wailing for their parents to take them home. Miss Cole usually assigned an older child to take care of the new orphan, but fortunately, everyone knew Tom was not sympathetic enough to be left in charge of anyone.
Tom hadn't met the latest charge earlier either because he had been at Hogwarts the entire year—not that he had been interested in meeting anyone before. But now that the girl stood over him, he was surprised he hadn't seen her before.
She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Her brown curls looked like twisted snakes (his favourite reptiles) springing from the top of her head. Her soulful brown eyes reminded him of ambers and smoke and all things dark and heady. Her bow-shaped upper lip made something strange happen in the lower part of his abdomen. There was a mysterious air about her despite her innocent demeanour. Something was…different about this girl.
Tom inhaled sharply and his foot caught on something underneath. His head slipped under the surface and he choked on the salty seawater. Sputtering, he climbed out of the water as gracefully as he could—which was not at all. He stumbled over some more algae and fell to his knees on the sand. Waves crashed over his feet as he gasped for breath.
"Are you okay?" the girl asked. She trod through the foamy waves and crouched beside him before placing her hand on his shoulder. "How do you feel?"
Tom flinched away from her touch. She was a filthy Muggle, and he despised anyone touching him without his consent.
He grabbed the girl by the nape of her neck and yanked her down towards him. Unfortunately, he had miscalculated his own strength. The girl squealed and tumbled down on top of him. Hard.
"Oof!" Tom groaned and clenched his eyes shut. He was a man. And men didn't feel pain. Right? The ache in his stomach where the girl had elbowed him claimed otherwise. Tom barked, "Get off me!"
"You're the one who pulled me down!" the girl cried, her face reddening in anger or embarrassment—it could have been both. She crawled off him and sat on the sand, adjusting her skirt.
Tom stared at her legs. Her knees were knobbly and her legs were thin and twig-like. Would he break them if he only touched her? His gaze travelled up her legs to her face. She was staring at him with her head angled to the side, her neck bare and vulnerable.
It reminded him of what he had to do.
Tom lunged forward and gripped the back of her neck. Dragging her closer, he growled, "Don't you dare say a word to anyone about this. You hear me?"
The girl blinked, confused, and frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Are you deaf?" Tom shook her hard, and his nose bumped against hers. He barked, "If you tell anyone what you saw today, I will personally come after you and—"
"But I don't even know you," the girl pointed out, no fear on her face. She only blinked those pretty eyes in confusion. "I'm Hermione, and you are?"
Was the girl deaf and mental to boot? Why was she not scared of him?
"Don't you know who I am?" Tom asked cautiously. How could she not know who he was? He was offended by her lack of recognition.
"Should I? I'm sorry, but I'm not very good with names of children I've barely met—"
Tom bristled with indignation. He was twelve-and-a-half years old, damn it! He was not a child. He would not stand for this ridicule.
"I'm Tom Riddle, don't you know?" he blurted out, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be threatening her.
He let go of her head and instead grabbed her face with both hands. He leaned in, glaring at her as hard as he could and ignoring the slight headache forming behind his eyes, and growled, "Just keep your mouth shut when you get back to the orphanage. If you tell anyone what you saw today, I will find you and I will torture you so much you will wish you were never born. Understood?"
The girl—Hermione—stared at him for a few moments before shrugging.
Success! I think?
"Fine," she whispered, her shoulders slumping as she climbed to her feet. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I won't tell anyone anything. It's not like I have anyone to talk to. I just wanted a friend, but no one talks to me. They think I'm too strange. Well, whatever. I don't care. Good bye."
Without looking at him, she splashed through the water until the waves crashed against her abdomen. She dove underneath and didn't resurface.
Tom sat there on the sand and watched her swim away. Somehow, she remained underwater for longer than humanly possible, and the mysterious aura about her intensified. Tom squinted and stared at the blob under the water, mentally counting the seconds it took for her to finally come up for air.
Around two minutes.
Tom's suspicions increased. She wasn't a normal human. She couldn't be. There was something magical about her, and he needed to find out the truth.
He cupped his hands over his mouth and called out, "Come out, girl. I want to talk to you."
Hermione's head popped out from beneath the surface, her eyes wide and annoyed. The word, "No," left her lips before she dove back under.
Tom scowled. How dare she refuse him? She really didn't know what he was capable of, did she? Didn't the rest of the orphanage children tell her to either stay away from him or do exactly what he wanted? By the end of the evening, she would know.
"I want to talk to you, so come out right now," he barked, putting his hands on his hips and glaring in her general direction.
Her dark brown hair slithered behind her like actual snakes when only the top half of her face slid out from under the water. Her refusal was slightly muffled as the waves crashed over her head, but Tom heard it loud and clear.
He snarled, "Come out now."
Hermione stood in shoulder-deep water and taunted, "Is 'No' a foreign word to you?"
"I'm coming in," Tom threatened.
"I'd like to see you try."
Was she challenging him? Taunting him? Him? Tom Riddle? This girl clearly had a death wish, and Tom would gladly fulfill it.
Despite the fact that he couldn't swim, Tom clenched his fists and strode into the water. It was cold and wet and horrid to boot, but the girl was watching him, her lips twitching in obvious amusement. Tom would not let her look at him like that. He refused to entertain her with his fury. And so, he pushed through the water with his arms, trying to remember if he had read a spell for swimming before.
Swimming was a useless activity, something Tom hadn't ever needed to learn before. Now, he really wished he hadn't skipped all those swimming classes in his childhood. A strong wave smacked him in the face, and the salty water stung Tom's eyes. He growled and stepped forward, battling the stupid waves as best as he could.
He would not let Hermione think he wouldn't follow through with what he had said.
When the waves became gentler, Tom squinted at Hermione through his still-stinging eyes and found her just a few feet away. Her brown hair was plastered to either side of her bobbing head, and her lips were pulled up in a smirk. "You really want to do this, Riddle? Think you're up for this?"
"I'll wring your neck when I get my hands on you," Tom hissed and took another step.
There was nothing underneath. His head plopped underneath, the slurpy slapping of the sea over him a quiet murmur. Panicking, Tom opened his mouth to yell, but bubbles came out inside. The water was saltier than anything he had ever tasted before, and it flowed down his throat and into his windpipe. He choked and gagged, windmilling his arms and swinging his legs to find a foothold on the ocean floor.
He didn't know how long he remained down there; it felt like eternity. His meagre life flashed before his closed eyes, and Tom's heart hammered at the thought of dying. He wanted to live. There were so many things he wanted to do, so many things he wanted to achieve. Starting with world domination and learning all the ancient spells in the world, of course.
A small hand gripped his own before someone dragged him up to the surface. He broke through with a loud gasp and opened his eyes. Hermione, his saviour (and also the reason he had half-drowned) was right in front of him, a huge smile on her face and his hand clasped in hers. She said, amused, "You look like you're about to cry."
"I am not!" Tom was horrified. Was he…no, he wasn't going to cry. He was stronger than this. Putting on his usual stoic mask, he said, "I'm going to kill you now."
"I should have just let you drown. It's obvious you don't know how to swim."
"Just let go of me."
"Suit yourself," Hermione said with a shrug. And then, she let go of his wrist.
Tom immediately sunk into the depths of the water. Hermione grabbed him by the back of his shirt and he spluttered as he came up for air. He glared at her cocked eyebrow and, pushing back the humiliation at having to request something from a Muggle girl, he growled, "Fine, take me back to land."
"Say the magic word," she teased, her eyes twinkling.
Magic word? Was she…Tom frowned at her and demanded, "What do you mean? What magic word?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Say please, you prat."
"Take me back to land, please, you prat."
"You know what? You clearly think you're hilarious. I'm going to keep you. I could use a bit more delusion," Hermione said, smiling before she began to lead him back to shore. She kept a tight hold on him, while Tom pretended the feel of her warm hand in his own didn't make his heart do strange things.
"As soon as we're on dry land, you better run because I will make you suffer."
"No, you won't. I've read that when you save someone's life, you become best friends for life," she declared.
Best friends for life? What? This girl's mental! Who reads such worthless and pointless books?
Tom shook his head and barked, "We're not best friends—we're not friends either!"
"We'll see about that," Hermione said lightly.
For once in his life, Tom was at a loss for words. But maybe he could use her insistence on being 'friends' to learn how in Merlin's name she had stayed underwater for so long. Yes, this could work in his favour.