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I do not own the Harry Potter Books/Movies/anything within them!
"Ellisheer. Ellisheer. Come on. We're going to be late for our classes..."
Hermione's eyes snapped open, and she found herself staring straight at Tom Riddle.
"Classes?"
Looking at the clock, the young witch realized what time it was. 12:55! She had only five minutes to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts! Jumping up and nearly knocking over Tom, she gathered her things and was out the door before she wasted another minute.
The halls were, obviously, quite empty except for a few tardy students, or lost first years. Hermione ignored them all, sprinting down the halls as fast as she could. When she finally saw the DADA room up ahead, she checked to see she had one minute left, and slowed to a walking pace.
Bursting through the new, freshly oiled door, the young witch took a seat, and watched Tom come through about a minute after her. Smiling to him, she motioned for him to sit beside her, and he did so.
Leaning her face a little closer to his, she whispered, "Are you sure you got enough sleep?"
He gave her his wierd, unreadable expression, and nodded cautiously, seemingly unsure if it was directed towards him. Sighing, Hermione turned back to the board. What was wrong with him! He seemed so...uh! There was no word for it! Sulking, she tuned in to what the teacher was saying.
"...and you will practice your shield spell, Shellariuous! Your partner will throw random hexes at you, and I ask that whomever is throwing the hexes uses non-lethal spells. Choose anyone! Begin!"
Hermione looked over at Tom, and they both stood up together.
"You block, I hex." he said, calmly.
Hermione felt her stomach drop. The idea of the young Lord Voldemort pointing his wand at her did not appeal very pleasing. Backing up a little, she prayed that he'd go easy on her. What if he tried the killing curse, or crucio?
No, she heard something inside herself say, Lord Voldemort may do that, but Tom Riddle wouldn't!
'What the bloody hell do you mean? Why wouldn't he? The two may SEEM completely different, but they're not! Remember, Tom Riddle is a crafty little bastard. He can fool you...er...me!'
He can, but...would he?
The voice diminished, and Hermione found herself blocking random hexes being thrown from the young dark lord. It was almost as if he was testing her. Each hex came faster and faster, until Hermione was blocking two at a time, then three, then...nothing...Tom Riddle had stopped, and now seemed to be waiting.
"What?" she asked, looking straight into his eyes. Not surprisingly, she couldn't look any deeper. There was a wall there. A big, invisible wall of nothing, blocking her entrance of his thoughts and emotions.
"You're good. Now, let's see how you fight." he challenged. Hermione knew what that meant.
Duel time...
The entire class turned to look at Hermione and Tom, blocking and dodging each others hexes, using every chance they got to throw their own. Tom seemed to be having fun, barely making an effort and still winning. Hermione, on the other hand, was having a rough time, and the class wasn't at all surprised when, finally, one got through, and she fell to the floor.
Her eyes wide, the young witch watched as the red light came closer and closer, right before her face, when she heard, "I win" and the light faded. She looked up, and saw an emotionless Tom, who seemed to be considering something. He must have decided against it, as he simply brought a shield up in front of his eyes, and helped her off the ground.
Hermione's mind was spinning like mad. This boy in front of her had stopped his spell. Only extremely powerful wizards could do that! Who was this kid? He was so powerful, cunning, mysterious and downright...He was Lord Voldemort. In all this commotion of the day, and the fact that this boy was nothing like his future self, Hermione had totally forgot who he really was. This was the man who had killed all those innocent people...her friends, her headmaster, and a million more she had never met.
Somehow, some way, and for some unknown reason, that meant absolutely nothing. Normally, Hermione would have felt anger, resentment, or sometimes even fear, but now...she didn't feel a thing. It was almost as if the thought of death had bored her; like, somehow, everyone's deaths didn't seem so surprising anymore.
You have always been alone, she heard a little voice in her head say, It just took a million deaths, and some time to think to realize it.
Gasping, Hermione felt something erupt inside of her. It felt as though it had always been there, but was hidden. But what was it? Fear? Helplessness? Hope? No...Anger? Sorrow?...Emptiness? Yes, that was it. Hermione had a big hole of emptiness, right where her heart should have been. She had no one, nothing. The only close friend she had, had no clue who she was. The real Dumbledore was dead...
And that meant nothing...
"Ellisheer? Are you listening?" she heard Tom say, "Potions. We have potions. Come on. Hurry up, now."
Hermione quickly snapped out of her thoughts, "Oh, right."
Gathering up her books, she followed after Tom. She really hadn't been herself today. Maybe she should say something. She needed to seem new.
"Do you like Professer Slughorn?" Perfect!
"Well...not really. He gathers the most successful students up, and attempts to befriend them for his own benefit. He knows a lot, though."
Hermione briefly recalled the memory of the horcrux...Yes, Professer Slughorn certainly did know a lot, but oh! She didn't know that.
"A lot?"
"Yes, about magic."
"What kinds?"
"Everyday, healing, charms, dar-" he caught himself just in time, "Almost every kind...Here's the Potions room."
The two of them entered, and quickly sat down. Once again, Tom had his shield up. Hermione couldn't seem to start another conversation with him. Sighing, she took a bit of time to study him. He seemed awfully tense. It was only a slight slip up. Any ordinary student wouldn't have noticed if he had really said dark magic. Did he know Hermione was different? That would really suck. She wanted to live a normal life. A normal life, that didn't include suspicion...
Hey! There was a V on Tom's earring. This was the chance she was looking for. Wouldn't it be fun if mini Voldemort admitted his love for dark magic, and his secret alliances?
"Er...What's the V stand for?" She could have worded that better...
"Why are you inspecting me, Ellisheer?" Damn! He was good!
"I'm not! I'm just curious and bored!"
"Why can't you just pay attention?"
"Are you?"
That's when Hermione noticed the silence. She hadn't been talking that loud, had she? The entire class couldn't have heard her. Okay...sit and listen...they'll stop staring.
Hermione sat stiffly and looked straight at the professer. Come on, old Slughorn! Save me!
"As I was saying. Get started on your fog potions, page 394. I expect a roll of parchment explaining the properties and characteristics of it by next week, also. Please, begin...with a partner, of course."
Hermione opened her book and placed her cauldron near Tom. She adjusted her seat, and started reading. Man...thirty ingredients! What a waste! Newts, spiders, bats, dragon toenails...The whole works!
"Okay." she sighed, "Let's get started."
Through the whole potion making process, the young witch attempted to make conversation with her partner. To no avail, though, as his mouth was sealed. He barely even acknowledged her! Luckily, the class was almost over. She had just wasted her breath...
Hey! Hermione looked down at her hand, where the last ingredient had been. It wasn't there anymore! Merlin, Tom was fast.
"Riddle! Give me the newt tongues back!"
Tom tutted, and put the ingregient on the table behind him, just out of Hermione's reach. He rustled around in his bag, and pulled out a funny looking jar.
Hermione gasped, "What are you doing with those! They're powerful and dangerous! Under aged wizards aren't supposed to use them!"
"Ellisheer! Relax. I can handle it, and, besides, these will make the potion...stronger." his voice darkened at the last word, and Hermione briefly wondered if he was making a dark magic potion.
Cringing, the young witch watched as her partner pulled out some unicorn hair, and stirred it into the potion. Almost immediately, the classroom was filled with a thick, heavy fog. Oh, it was awfully hard to breathe.
Hermione desperately looked around, unable to see even her hand in front of her face. She stood up, and then even the floor seemed to disappear. She gasped and reached her hand out in front of her, grabbing a fistful of fabric. She just needed something to hold on to...
Moving closer to whatever it was she had grabbed, she felt herself begin to panic. What if Riddle was standing behind her, ready to cast the killing curse! She wouldn't even know who it had been, and she'd be one of those ghosts that wander for ages, in a poor attempt to find the one who had killed them, lost, and never able to rest. Then, when she finally found who it was, they'd both be dead, and they'd have to battle it out in the realm of ghosts!
Hermione gasped as she felt an icy hand on her bare shoulder. A shiver went up her spine, and she heard a dark voice growl, making her feel slightly faintish.
"Who is this?" she whispered, afraid that her voice might make the person angry.
"It's only me..." the voice answered, right beside her ear.
"Where are you?"
The hand left her shoulder and a bit of the fog cleared, but only around the two of them. Hermione quickly let go of the fabric, slightly embarassed that it had been Tom's shirt. An awkward silence fell, and she found she couldn't break it. Oh Merlin! An explosion would be nice!
"What time is it?" she heard someone say. It sounded like Tom, but too...innocent.
Hermione looked down at her watch, "2:30"
"Hmmm...Okay, let's get to our next class. Tell me when you've got your stuff."
There was a bit of rustling as more of the fog spilled in, and a slightly disheveled voice sounded, "K. I'm ready."
"Follow me..." Tom said, and he swirled into the thickening mist.
"Wha?"
Where was he? How the hell was she supposed to find her way out of there with all that fog, and no charm to blow it away? Luckily, though, she saw a hand reach out of it, and softly take hold of her wrist. Assuming it was Tom's, Hermione let it lead her, though she wasn't sure if she could be trusting him. After all, he might-
NO. No, Hermione. He will not kill you, he will not curse you. You have done absolutely nothing to make him angry, and, to him, you know as much of his dark aspects as anyone else does. Stop making up little stories in your head! If he, for some unknown reason, does kill you, what would it matter anyway? You have absolutely nothing to live for...
Hermione slumped her shoulders, and looked down. That creepy little voice in her head was right, and she was beginning to hate the main part of her mind that had ignored it for all those years. She would have to make an effort to, not forget, but forgive this boy that would one day become the dark lord. It was not his actions, but force of a million bad memories and pains of a hard life, that had killed those poor, innocent people. It was as if the innocent people had killed themselves, by torturing the mind of an unfortunate child. Not so innocent anymore, now were they?
Hermione felt the hand leave her wrist, and heard a door open. That was an awfully long walk out of the classroom. Where were they?
"Professer Arveina? Are you there?" she heard Tom's voice.
"Oh, hullo Tom. Yes, I'm here." Hermione heard someone say, their irish accent brightening the room, a little, "All indoor classes are cancelled for the rest of the day. It seems a powerful little wizard fogged up the whole school in potions. Care of Magical creatures is still on, though, and most of the students are outside."
"Okay, thank you."
"Oh! And, I thought you might like to know, all the seventh years are going on a survival trip, in a month. It'll last for about a week, and you'll be in threes."
Hermione heard the door close, and a wave of nausea passed over her. How had Tom maneuvered his way to their next class in all this? She felt utterly helpless herself, and not being in contol of matters was starting to make her feel sick.
"You can make your way outside, if you want. I think I'll just go back to the Head rooms."
What the hell! What was he doing? Hermione stood and gaped for a few seconds, then snapped out of it when she heard Tom take a step back.
"Wait! How do you expect me to find my way outside if I'm new and blind?"
Hermione stood for a second, then took a step forward.
"Good question. I don't know. You'll figure it out."
She heard him begin to walk away, and she instinctively grabbed his left arm, but pulled it back just as fast. His footsteps started again, and Hermione found herself chasing after the sound.
"Ellisheer. Just follow the wall to the doors. Merlin. It's not that-"
Tom's words were cut off as Hermione crashed into him.
"Mmmm," she groaned, "You could have at least told me there were stairs there! You prat!"
Unsure of whether to push her off him, or wait, Tom grunted and spoke, "I'm just as blind as you are right now, Ellisheer. I'm just guessing my way around."
Somehow, Hermione knew Tom was lieing, but she didn't dare voice that thought. Instead, she picked herself up off of him, and waited for him to stand up.
"Well, could you at least help me get outside? I haven't a clue where I'm going!"
"Couldn't you just guess?" he said, sighing, "I really don't have the time for this!"
"Why?" Hermione said, daringly. She didn't know what came over her. She was standing up to an evil, mass murderer!
Not yet, the little voice in her head said, He's only killed a few people so far...
Stiffening, the young witch continued on, "What do you have to do?"
She could almost see Tom considering her question, then passing it aside. Hermione felt a hand roughly grab hers, leading her up the stairs, and down the halls. Into the light, and...
She could see again!
Turning around to thank Tom, Hermione found herself staring back into the empty fog. Grunting, she turned and headed for the lake. Maybe she could meet some people...
"Oof!" she mumbled, falling to the ground.
For the second time that day, Hermione had run into someone. Her limbs were really starting to hurt, what with all the smashing into the ground. It was a perfect way to meet someone, though, and she found herself studying a bubbly little Hufflepuff.
The girl in front of her looked to be a little familiar, possibly from one of her classes. She had wavy blond hair, and bright, green eyes. Since seventh year was casual, she wasn't wearing a uniform. Instead, she wore a lavender skirt that reached just to the top of her knees, and a cream turtleneck, with the sleeves cut off.
"Merlin!" the girl said, her voice high and squeeky. It made her seem innocent, and cute, even. Hermione laughed as she began babbling, "Oh! I am so sorry! This is all my fault! I wasn't watching where I was going! Could you forgive me? I've been spacing out lately, and I don't think it's good for my health! This has proved it, I suppose-"
"No, sorry. I wasn't watching, either," Hermione giggled and held out her hand, "By the way, my name's Hermione Ellisheer."
The girl stopped talking and looked at Hermione. A smile slowly spread across her face, until her lips couldn't spread any furthur. She took Hermione's hand and shook it enthusiastically, "My name's Ginger Avercasten. Nice to meet you."
In just an hour and a half, Hermione and Ginger became great friends. They talked about absolutely everything and everyone, and mixed, despite their different houses. Hufflepuff and Gryffindor...Badger and lion...huh. Who knew?
"Yeah, you're in my Transfiguration class, and DADA," Ginger answered to one of Hermione's recently asked questions, "You're always partners with Riddle...Why?"
She said Riddle's name like Hermione would anyone else's. Ginger was so innocent, and clueless! How could anyone not love her!
"Headmaster's orders. We're both Heads. He only sees that it fits. Tom's his favourite student, after all."
"Of course..." Ginger trailed, "What's it like?"
"What's what like?"
"What's it like hanging around the Head Boy, quidditch captain, best student, and boy labelled 'Most Likely to Fall in Love With' all day?"
"Riddle plays quidditch?"
"Best seeker in the school, yeah."
"Huh...Well...it's..."
Hermione had never really thought of this question. It didn't really seem different, and she hadn't even heard of half of his titles before.
"It's...normal?" she finally answered, unsure of what she really meant, "I honestly don't know. But...who do you hang around with?"
Not even noticing Hermione's sad attempt at changing the subject, Ginger chirped, "No one! I don't mean to be picky, but most of the students here are really mean to Hufflepuffs, and the ones that aren't are either too into boys, or themselves. But you're different!"
Hermione smiled and laughed lightly. She really did like Ginger! Wow! It was Hermione's first day of classes, and she already found a new friend. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad, after all...
"Ellisheer," she heard a male voice growl, "You're going to be late for Care of Magical Creatures. Are you coming, or not?"
Okay, there was always the problem of Tom Riddle. He still seemed a little sour from earlier in the halls...
"Oh, uh...er...Ginger! This is, as you already know, Tom Riddle! And, Riddle, this is Ginger Avercasten!"
Hermione took a step aside so they could see each other, and inwardly cheered as Ginger stood confidently under Tom's stare. Tom analyzed her, nodded, and turned back to Hermione. Quickly getting the message, she laughed hesitantly.
"Right, well, see you later, Ginger! I have to go to classes..."
Looking over at Tom, she noticed he seemed a bit tired. She reminded herself to take advantage of that later, and scurried on after him, waving happily to Ginger. Oh, what a wonderful day it was!
Phoenix: Okay, that chapter was a bit...lacking, but don't worry! Love takes time! Sorry it took so long to update! I was on a trip, and I had no computer! Oh, god! Okay, review if you want!
