Authors note: TW for torture. This is a fairly dark chapter so be warned.

"Why don't you like me?" Riddle stepped in front of Hermione, blocking her way to the Arithmancy classroom. Hermione was startled. It nearly made her laugh. He sounded almost petulant, like a child on the playground and not a teenage dark lord who has and will kill several people.

"What makes you think I don't like you?" Hermione answered. Perhaps she hasn't been as inconspicuous as she thought. She still deserved a Merlin (first class) for even talking to Tom Riddle without trembling.

Riddle's eyes narrowed into a vicious glare. "You're not as clever as you think you are. Your contempt for me is quite obvious. I just want to know why."

Hermione did not know what to say. She had no visible reason to dislike him, besides their argument about their potion. But Hermione knew he was talking about before that particular incident. So she decided on telling the truth. A dangerous decision maybe, but she was a gryffindor. "I think you're acting…I don't believe you're a good person." Hermione replied simply. They were two short sentences but the gravity of them weighed heavily on her chest.

Riddle looked surprised. Not in the way other people did, wide eyed and mouth gaping. No, Riddle's eyebrows lifted and his right eye twitched so quickly she thought she missed it. He was surprised. She held her breath, awaiting his response.

"You have no reason for believing that, Hermione. You're clearly seeing something that isn't there. I haven't ever harmed you and I never will, you have nothing to fear from me, I promise." Tom's voice was soft and kind. He sounded sympathetic. Hermione was suddenly overcome with the intense, viscous need to see him furious. Hermione wanted to see him seething, foaming at the mouth in anger. Just like he did before.

She wanted to goad him into reacting. She wanted him to drop that kind and sympathetic facade and show her what he truly was. A vile, disgusting excuse for a human being. A tyrant that thought other people, especially muggleborns, were scum under his shoe. Hermione wondered what he would do if he knew a filthy mud blood had corrected him in class, had fought and insulted him.

Hermione laughed. Loudly and hysterically. "Well, you're not as clever as you think you are. I'm sure your act is fooling everyone else, but it's not fooling me." Hermione mocked him, feeling brave all of a sudden.

She continued, feeling emboldened by his silence. "Do you have any actual friends, Riddle? Does anyone actually know how vile you truly are, besides your stupid followers I mean."

Riddle's eyes narrowed. It was the only sign of emotion on his otherwise blank face. Hermione wondered how he could just shove all his emotions away and pretend. It must be exhausting.

"Careful, Hermione," Riddle warned. His voice was so utterly cold that it sent shivers down her spine, like someone had dropped ice cubes down her back. Hermione had seen him angry before, however briefly, but this was different. More dangerous somehow. "Wouldn't want to say anything you'll regret now"

All Hermione could think about was Myrtle, how confused she must have been when she died and didn't know how. All Hermione could think about was Harry's parents and how scared they must have been before Riddle killed them. How Harry's parents never got to see him grow up. Nor did Neville's. How she had to obliviate her parents just to keep them safe from the war he started.

So she did something that was entirely out of anger, something reckless and stupid.

"Maybe that's why your muggle father didn't want you, Tom. He knew, even before you were born, what a hateful bastard you would be" Hermione spat viscously.

If Hermione thought Riddle's warning before was scary, it was nothing compared to this. Riddle's indifferent facade dropped in an instant, replaced instead with cold fury.

Faster than Hermione could blink, Riddle shoved her into an empty classroom and with a flick of his hand, the doors locked magically. Hermione's lower back slammed into one of the desks roughly. It would definitely leave a bruise.

A dark yew wand was brandished at her neck. The tip pressing against her throat, almost breaking the skin. "Don't think I won't kill you, Hermione." Riddle seethed, the words barely escaping his clenched teeth. He was leaning so close to her that his nose brushed against hers. "Because I will. And I'll love every second of it. Oh…how I would love to hear you scream and beg. I wonder how disrespectful you'll be while choking on your own blood."

Hermione was scared. Truly and utterly frightened of him. Because she could have sworn that for one moment, Riddle's eyes had flashed red. A deep crimson that coloured his iris and pupil.

This was Voldemort.

/

Tom wanted to kill her. He really really did. More than anything, he wanted to watch life seep from her eyes.

But it also made him feel sick to imagine.

What a waste it would be.

He hated her. For knowing things she shouldn't. For being foolish enough to avoid the warning he gave. For forcing him to stop faking. For disrespecting and insulting him. And most of all, he hated how much she hated him.

She was fucking bitch and he loathed her.

Tom had only ever felt this amount of rage two other times in his life. Once when Ms Cole had locked him in the orphanage basement for almost a week without food. And once, when his own muggle father looked down his nose at Tom, telling him what an abomination he was.

And now this.

Hermione Greene. How could this strange girl he'd only known for a short while infuriate him so much?

Better yet, how did she know things about him he had never told another soul.

How could she possibly know about his muggle father? Or about his abandonment?

Tom needed to know what she was hiding.

'Legilimens' Tom whispered. Then, he pushed himself into her mind. He glimpsed at an image of two boys. One was lanky with shocking red hair and a smatter of freckles on a pale face. The other was a skinny boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes hidden behind ugly glasses.

Then as quickly as the image appeared, it was gone. Hermione had pushed him out. Tom tried again, more forcefully this time, but he was met with a steel wall blocking access to her memories. Hermione was an Occlumens.

Tom's fury came back with vengeance. With all his power and superiority, Tom couldn't enter the mind of this stupid little girl who had the self-preservation of an ant. He was rather surprised at Hermione's ability; not many people knew Occlumency, especially at her age. He wondered if he would ever stop being surprised by her.

But regardless, he could not enter her mind.

He'll just have to do this the hard way, then.

'Crucio'

He heard Hermione audibly gasp before she let out a blood-curdling scream.

/

Unimaginable pain flooded Hermione's body causing it to twitch and jerk uncontrollably. She slid down to the floor and her eyes rolled backwards. Bellatrix had tortured Hermione using the Cruciatus curse before, but she'd forgotten how absolutely paralysing the pain was. Hermione couldn't think, she couldn't breathe.

She just wanted the pain to stop.

A tear slid down her cheek as she sobbed. The pain was so terrible that she briefly hoped it would kill her, just so she could have some reprieve.

"How did you know that about me?" Riddler asked coldly.

Hermione stayed silent.

"Where are you actually from?"

"Why did you come to Hogwarts?"

"I'll ask you again, how did you know about my father?"

Hermione didn't answer. She couldn't without explaining how she got here and everything else she knew. And she would never tell him any of those things. She could already imagine a Voldemort that knew every mistake he ever made. He would be unstoppable. Hermione didn't know why she was sent to 1944, but she knew it couldn't be for this reason.

But she just wanted the pain to stop. Stop. Stop. Please. Hermione begged internally. She would never give him the satisfaction of begging out loud.

"TELL ME" Riddle screamed. He looked every bit of the deranged monster she knew him to be.

"I will never tell you anything" Hermione cried out, through her pitiful sobs.

The pain of the Cruciatus curse suddenly stopped.

Hermione's entire body was sore and aching. She saw from her periphery that Riddle had stalked out of the classroom in heavy furious strides. She wished more than anything to see him dead.

/

Tom hadn't wanted to Crucio Hermione. Remarkably, he felt the slightest twinge of guilt. Seeing Hermione in pain wasn't as exciting as he previously thought it would be. No, he realised, he did not like seeing her in pain.

But he needed to torture her, it was his only option. And he didn't really regret it.

But it didn't work. How could it not have worked? It got his followers to do his bidding very easily. But it couldn't get information out of her.

Tom wondered what kind of important information she was hiding to withstand the torture of the Cruciatus curse for as long as she did.

Tom was weirdly impressed with Hermione's display of willpower and strength. Most, if not all, would crumble under only a few seconds of the Cruciatus curse. But Hermione didn't. It made him strangely proud of her. In a very twisted way, Tom was even more attracted to her.

But nonetheless, She had not cracked under the pain of the unforgivable curse. For the first time in his life, Tom didn't know what to do.