Wow! I got lots more reviews on that last chapter! Thanks!
Rain-Ix: Thanks!
An Unsanitary Dream: thanks, and I'm happy you could actually get what I was trying to make his laughter sound like.
PhanPhic-adict: thanks, and yes tom did show feeling! And, yeah, it must have seemed hard for him, though we all know he has some kind of heart in there somewhere, right?
Mrs Pierre Bouvier: haha, I couldn't find anything either, but thanks for liking it enough to review again!
chipped-nails: thanks soooo much!
Charming-Lynn: thank you again!
Sivaroobini Lupin-Black: Sorry for kind of making Hermione out of character…I really am…( maybe the traveling 50 years back scrambled up her mind? Anyways, I'm sorry again, but will you forgive me? Hehe…
Windforce: thanks, but the question is…will she return to the present:evil cackle:
Encantada: thanks for your praises and review, and I have a few things to clarify. Yes, I know, she is a bit ooc, but then again so is the coupling of her and tom. Lol. Also, I know I don't think there is a time traveling potion per se, but it made me refrain from explaining something that I probably couldn't come up with anyway. ) and, yeah, I'm trying to think of a way for her to talk to teachers and such, but I'll get to that later. Lastly, with the 'baggy jeans' part, I didn't mean as loose as guys today have them, just slightly less rigid as the dress pants that they used to wear in the '40s. I'm so sorry if it was terribly confusing! But thanks so much anyway for reviewing!
AureliaMalfoy: thank you SOOOOOO much for saying my story is good and for contradicting my negative reviewer(s)! I love you! Haha. xoxoxo.
Love Joyal: haha, yeah, it does make you wonder…hmmm……but I'll leave that up to you to ponder…and I am infinitely gratified that you said I proved you wrong! Yay!
Sadistically Insane: as always, I adore you for always being my faithful reviewer! I can always count on you! And, yeah, I feel bad for sirius, but he can deal. lmao. xoxo!
SheWalksWithRavens: I like cookies…and I want to hug him too! He sounds so delicious, doesn't he?
Kat: wow. I don't know where to start with my thanks to you. Thanks a billion for defending my story and further praising it! You are like my savior! I don't know what else to say except thank you so much and I love you for it! Kisses!
padfootbabeinblack: thanks, and it's okay…I don't review as often as I'd like either!
Pozest-Illusion: as always, thanks to you and Sadistically Insane I can at least count on two reviews per chapter! And I'm glad I made you laugh!
Phew. Lots of reviewers to thank! But it is totally necessary. I love you all so much even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes! But, without further adieu (haha, love that word), on with the fic!
Tom slowly let Hermione down, in an act of both consideration and confusion as to the thing he had just done with her. He was in a mixed vat of emotions. He wasn't sure whether he should be happy ("there's a novel thought." he thought bitterly), sad, angry, confused, or all of the above.
He hadn't known what to do exactly. She had just thrown herself—literally—at him. For more than a second there, he was ashamed to admit, he contemplated just letting her drop to the floor, him pulling his foot away from the dust covered ground, leaving her hurt and saddened body lying on the frigid, harsh tile. Then something—a force perhaps—overcame him suddenly, engulfing his whole cold being with an odd sort of warmth. Something unknown snapped into place in his reeling brain, something he wasn't sure what to do with. It was as if the scene unfolded in slow motion. He watched her close the small distance between them, her arms starting to fall towards him, and her bright brown eyes fluttering shut.
In the split second decision he had before they made contact, he thought, almost fondly, of their enlightening, but at the time bitter, embrace after their encounter with Myrtle. He had been so devoid of emotions and feelings; so repelling and stone-hearted. Then that simple yet intriguingly complex feat of hers happened; one moment changing his whole twisted life. Now, instead of falsely laughing and having to fake excitement, it was really happening. He had never read about anything like this possessing people. It was filling his head full of thoughts and ideas and possible explanations. So far, the only one he could come up with was that she had performed some sort of curse on him. Though he could not figure out which.
So when her daring operation to show friendliness towards him arose, he simply yet hastily decided to return the favor—a favor in which he had never done before. The resulting feeling and connection was mysterious yet oddly comforting. He had never felt that way before. Let alone from a simple hug. Distastefully, he reluctantly felt a kind of passionate, understanding ardor creep up into his seldom used but longing heart. Where there once was a nagging but occasionally forgettable crevice was now a beating, brightening, inflation of feeling and color. He had heard of this happening to people, but had not had it happen to him personally. It was not described in any books—well, at least not spelled out. One simple word, yet meaning whatever you wanted it to. Love. He, even as a child, had never experienced that supposedly wonderful emotion, never exhibited it either.
What he was feeling, however, could not be that. 17 years and not even a wisp of a mention of that strong sensation, and now in one feeble moment all descriptions of it come flooding into an emotionally deprived soul. Never had this event even come sliding across his mind. The only time it came close was when his deep and dark brown eyes met hers for the first time. He had neglected to acknowledge it, and instead masked any approaching endeavors by impatience, brusqueness and isolation. Now, however, he wasn't so sure he could carry on for much longer.
So, as he lay in his green-and-silver-framed dormitory, his uncannily intelligent mind was, for the first time, at a loss of explanation. There was just nothing coming to him. For a fleeting instant, he wondered if she was feeling the same things. If she was trying to deny it with all her power. If she knew why. If she knew how much this struggling was agonizing him. But mainly…where she was.
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Hermione sat on her lifeless bed, very much alone. The moment Tom and her connection had been broken, they had looked at each other with uncertainty, but also with lust. He had gently placed her two feet back on the echoing, slate floor, looking into her eyes with his cavernous, almost-black ones. It was almost as if he was daring her to do something determinedly courageous again. She hadn't noticed his warm hands slip away slowly from her arms, until she started shivering. As she watched his fingers fumble slightly with the ebbing blackness of his robes, she desperately wished they were around her waist again.
Her mind whirring with thoughts and emotions, Hermione, for some inexplicable reason, felt a single hot and salty tear roll down her worried face. One tear. It was all the conclusive information she needed to reminisce on her rapidly spiraling life. It was all she needed to realize that maybe this wouldn't turn out okay. The whole time she had been here, she had kept thinking that they—that is to say, she Harry, and Ron—had been through much worse and this was nothing. But the truth was, something always had to be worse than something else. It was just a simple fact of life. And this has got to have been the end of the downward decline. Frantically, Hermione realized that she might not be able to help herself out of this one. Maybe this really was the end. She chided herself for thinking that, and knew Harry would disprove of her for that, and she abashedly thought of all that he had been through. Things he had scarcely explained for her and Ron.
The droplet now dissolved into her pillow, slowly spreading a dark blue, Hermione stared determinedly up at the starry ceiling. She knew what she had to do, much as she hated to admit it. The answer this time was not Dumbledore, though she knew he would be the next best thing. The answer was—HIM. Yes. Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was the solution.
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Morning came all too early, both Hermione and Tom not realizing they had fallen asleep. Their thoughts must have been too overwhelming, sleep engulfing their emotionally and physically fatigued forms. Tom awoke, his heavy eyes snapping open, dark brown lashes blinking once, clearing his clouded head. Suddenly the events of the previous night hit him over the head like a speeding train. He groaned to himself, though audibly, closing his eyes again and rubbing his hands over his worn but young face. Admitting defeat, he threw his covers up, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he intended. Upon the soft thud of them hitting the floor, Tom carelessly picked up his faithful and used wand from the bedside table, sweeping it quickly over the bed. It was made up with hardly a wrinkle. Tom smirked to himself, pleased at his own ingenious magical ability.
Carelessly he threw a shirt over his well-defined chest, and haphazardly putting on a pair of carefully folded jeans. With his ebony robes completing his attire, he brushed his teeth, and barely having a like-new comb hit his hair. Grabbing his wand, he strode out of the room, irritated but also astounded at his dorm mates' ability to sleep through anything.
Hermione went through effectively the same regimen, though using a few more minutes with a brush. As satisfied as she was ever going to be, she walked purposefully, though not cockily, out of her mismatched room. Lately, she had not cared about how her living arrangements had looked. She didn't know why her sudden laziness had occurred, but it just had. In the back of her mind, there was the traditional Hermione-like scolding, telling her to clean up the slowly mounting chaos. As flashbacks of last night came flooding forcefully throughout her, Hermione decisively re-opened her door, speaking the spell, "Pulisca Escrimae", the contents of her room rearranging themselves satisfyingly. Hermione smiled at her spotless remembrance, now letting the door close itself, her grin all too evident on her face.
Unknown to both, Tom and Hermione happened to be walking towards each other, neither evident of the other's thoughts, though they were uncannily similar. Tom's dark brow furrowed as he heard small footsteps, their sound reverberating off of the stone walls. Hoping that it wasn't who he thought it was, though for some reason knowing he was wrong, he kept walking.
As they caught sight of each other, Hermione gazed longingly into Tom's unreadable eyes, his traditional right eyebrow raised slightly so it gave his expression a permanent cocky, all-knowing glint. "T—Tom! I—well—hi." Hermione stammered.
Tom looked at her passionately. Desperately trying to keep his smirk on his face, but knowing soon it would all fade into nothingness, he replied, "Hermione. What brings you here?"
Hermione opened her mouth slightly, then closed it. She felt daring; the truth was bound to come out eventually. After fast but careful thought, she answered.
"You."
So? Is it alright? I'm sorry I made you guys wait a long time, but I've been really busy. I tried to make it longer! I can't make any promises as to when the next one will be out, but hopefully sometime before Friday. Please review, and remember you guys mean the world to me!
xoxo,
luvseanfaris