If it had been up to Hermione, she would have used this Saturday to recover from the exertions of the week, but of course Tom did not let her do that. He had other plans for her. Plans that included Augusta Bargeworthy.
And so, Hermione sat cross-legged on her bed in her room, eyes closed, her hands locked tightly in her thighs, while she concentrated entirely on Augusta's body. It was astonishing that she could actually see the world through Augusta's eyes and, if she focused precisely, could actually feel her feelings. Amazing, exciting, intoxicating - and frightening.
Augusta, on the other hand, was walking down to the village at Markus' side, unsuspecting. Actually, she wanted to talk with Ignatius about the events of the previous day, but Markus asked her so urgently for a trip to Hogsmeade, and expressed through the language of flowers that he would prefer it if they were alone, that she could not refuse him. Ignatius could wait, as much as she longed to share all her fears with someone.
She guessed what the purpose of this trip was. Now it was not exactly the case that Markus made his feelings obvious, but she knew that when a shy young man like him invited her with such a red face to a date for two, he could have only one thing in mind. And she had no problem with that. Markus Longbottom was in his own way a man she could only wish for: Polite, modest, heart in the right place, and when it came down to it, he was brave and generous.
"Shall we have a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?"
The question sounded so loosely and carelessly formulated that Augusta could almost grasp the real tension behind it with her hands. She grinned. After all the horror she had gone through since the strange ritual, it might not be the worst idea to give in to the romantic feelings a little and just forget it.
"With pleasure," she agreed enthusiastically and smiled encouragingly at him.
With a little more self-confidence than before, Markus led her to the popular inn, opened the door for her like a real gentleman and indicated a slight bow when she first entered. She chose a table while Markus went to the counter to order both Butterbeers for them. After only a short wait, he returned with two large glasses and carefully set them both down on the table.
"Thank you," she said with a smile before taking a big sip. It felt so good to feel the tickle of the very low alcohol content of the drink down her throat. Expectantly, she looked at Markus, who also devoted himself to his beer first.
"I think we never did anything together without Ignatius, did we?" Markus finally began.
Surprised, Augusta looked over to him, and he suddenly turned red, as if he had not wanted to say that at all. She almost laughed because of his nervousness, but she forced herself not to make him even more insecure. "That's right. There are always the three of us. But I think it's nice this way."
She meant it as an encouragement, but instead the red in Markus' face only deepened and he sheepishly looked into his glass. Shaking her head, she took another sip. How could a single person be so insecure and shy? She was here, with him, alone. Did that not already speak its own, very clear language?
"Markus," she whispered softly to him, "Look at me."
It took a moment before he reacted, but finally he raised his eyes again and looked her straight in the eye. His expression was empty, but the blush of his cheeks and the way his hands clenched around the beer glass spoke a clear language.
She sighed. "I'm not going to eat you up just because you're alone with me and having a conversation with me. Relax, please."
For a moment he remained in the tense position, then he let go of the glass and sank back into his chair. With a wry grin, he said, "I'm sorry, Augusta. I'm just not used to being alone with a lady, and I'm afraid I'm going to embarrass myself completely."
She laughed cheerfully. "Oh, don't worry. You should know by now that I'm more sociable than most other specimens of my sex. So even if you should accidentally insult me, I would just return the compliment, laugh at you and all is well."
For a moment, Markus looked as if he did not know what to say, and Augusta already feared that she had driven him right back into his snail shell with her brisk nature, but then his attitude changed. A determined expression came over his face as he bent over, one hand resting on his thigh, the other laid flat on the table. Intense he looked straight at her with a look that made Augusta suddenly feel the need to lower his eyes.
"I will never allow any man to insult you, Augusta. And if I should, I beg you to do to me all the things you have just listed."
She had to remind herself to keep breathing. She was more than thrown off by that statement in combination with his gaze. Who would have thought that behind this shy boy could be such a confident man?
"Oh, what have we here?"
At once, Augusta froze. She knew that voice. That voice did not bode well. With eyes wide open, she turned around. She was right. No other than Tom Riddle stood behind her.
"Mr Longbottom, how kind of you to shorten Miss Bargeworthy's wait while she waited for me," Tom said with a tone of utter gratitude and kindness.
All the hairs on Augusta's body stood up as she realised the implications of these words. And then it was already too late.
"Waiting for you?", Markus stammered in surprise, "But she is here at my personal invitation."
Tom's smile widened even more as he returned Markus' sceptical and confused look.
"I'm sorry to have betrayed you like this," Augusta finally broke the tense silence.
With big eyes, the Gryffindor turned to her. Cooing, she explained, "I have a very special appointment with our head boy today, and I only accepted your invitation because I knew that I would have a few moments left before he came to pick me up. But now he is here, and I must leave with him."
"Leave?" Markus repeated still full of disbelief.
Augusta rose softly and pressed herself against Tom's side, who in turn put an arm around her hip to pull her closer. Whispering, but deliberately loud enough that Markus could still hear it, he breathed to her, "I was actually able to reserve a room for the two of us. Come upstairs with me."
At a moment, the usually so reserved man was on his feet. "What's going on here? A room? Augusta, what are you doing?"
A slight gleam of red settled on her cheek as Tom took it off her to answer the question, "It's impolite to force a woman to speak of such things. You're old enough to know exactly what we're up to. Don't embarrass us by forcing your friend to give you details."
Without caring any further about Markus, Tom took the young Gryffindor by the hand and pulled her single-mindedly to the stairs leading up to the guest rooms. Stunned, Markus looked after them, unable to move, unable to understand what had just happened. Completely broken, he finally let himself sink back into his chair.
Meanwhile, deep in the dungeon of the castle, Hermione sat on her bed, breathing heavily. She could feel Augusta's heart beating, and she was terrified at the thought of what she would do to her friend. When Tom had told her his plan in the morning, she had remained silent for a long time. She knew she had to show no pity for Augusta. Just as she knew she would not be able to bear it if she did not resist at all. In the end, of course, she had bowed to Tom's will.
And she prayed that her plan to save Augusta from utter psychological destruction would succeed. Everything depended on Markus Longbottom actually being similar to his grandson.
"Come here, Augusta," she heard Tom's voice through the ears of her defenceless victim. His tone of voice sounded alluring, seductive.
For the first time since she had landed in 1944, Hermione wondered whether the outwardly flawless head boy had secretly seduced other schoolgirls. She could not detect any sign of insecurity, on the contrary: He was standing in front of the bed in the small room, his hands buried in his trouser pockets, upright and confident, but also completely relaxed.
Hermione could feel how everything in Augusta was reluctant to take even one step towards him, but she could also feel the trembling of her knees and the nervousness in her stomach. Oh yes, Augusta was frightened. But even she could not entirely escape Tom's charm.
She walked slowly towards him, stepping close in front of him and laying her little hands on his chest before looking up at him. Without blinking, Tom returned the gaze as he gently placed his hands on hers. With gentle but firm movements, he guided her hands to the first button on his shirt. Augusta hesitated only briefly, then she complied with the unspoken but clear request.
Slowly, almost cautiously, she opened the first button, pulled his shirt slightly apart, then let her fingers move down to the next one without breaking off contact. More confidently, she guided the next button through the hole, exposing another piece of Tom's pale but flawless skin. She opened two more buttons, then succumbed to the urge and let her right hand go across his bare chest.
An almost inaudible sigh escaped her lips. Ashamed, she looked up, straight into Tom's sparkling eyes.
"Go ahead." He grinned at her and she obeyed.
Her breath quickened as she unbuttoned the last buttons. A little too forcefully, she pulled his shirt out of his pants. Once again, she could not resist. Gently her fingers stroked over his skin, over the hint of muscles that appeared there, further down to the waistband of his pants.
Tom quickly took a step back. "You did good. Now it's your turn. Take off your clothes."
Hesitantly, Augusta complied with the request, but she did not let Tom out of her sight for a second. With a jerky movement he undid the knot of his tie before he carelessly threw it aside. He went over to the window to close the curtains, obviously not at least interested in watching her undress. With cheeks red with shame, Augusta slipped out of her blouse, skirt, and finally underwear. Completely naked, she waited for him to turn back to her.
On her bed in the castle, in this moment of waiting, Hermione noticed all at once that her breath had also accelerated considerably and that she felt not only a little aroused. The power to control every movement of Augusta and the insanely erotic aura Tom just built up made her skin tingle.
"Lie on the bed."
This time, Augusta did not hesitate for a second to comply, driven by Hermione's desire and her own shame. Cumbersomely, she climbed into bed and tried to crawl under the covers, but immediately Tom's voice whipped across the room.
"So that I can see you!"
Only after Augusta lay on her back, her arms clumsily pressed to her side, her thighs firmly closed, did Tom step towards her. He still had his trousers and open shirt on while she lay completely naked in front of him.
"Someone like you has no right to see me naked," he said in contempt as his fingers slowly unbuckled his belt, "after all, this isn't about you.
With quick movements he had unbuttoned his trousers, got rid of it and his underpants and let the open shirt slide to the ground. Without taking his eyes off Augusta, he stepped to the bed. "This is about you, Hermione."
Deep under the earth in the dungeons of Hogwarts, it was this same one who opened her eyes in horror. She wanted to protest, wanted to break off contact with Augusta, just as she felt Tom's lips on her breasts. A surprised, lust-filled moan escaped her.
"Look closely, Hermione. Open your senses. This one's for you."
With these words, Tom climbed over Augusta's naked body. He forced her legs apart to position himself in between, but never letting go of her breasts. A sigh escaped her as he grabbed her left breast firmly with one hand. Frowning, he straightened up.
"I have no desire to hear your pathetic sounds while I'm here dealing with Hermione!" he said icily.
He moved up a bit and bent over to the bedside table. Quickly he grabbed his wand that was lying ready, then he got up on his knees and murmured, "Let's see, what would be useful?
He waved the wand briefly, and a black cloth was squeezed between Augusta's lips. She protested against the rough treatment, but no sound was heard. The cloth magically sucked up every sound she made.
"Better." Tom grinned.
Slowly he lowered himself back down onto the naked woman's body until he came to rest on her completely, supported only by one of his arms.
"You know, Hermione," he whispered into Augusta's ear, "I like the thought that you can see how I love another woman better than I thought I would. I know you enjoy this too. Isn't it wonderful, my darling, how you can subdue another human being so completely? Do you know how much power it takes to control the ritual so perfectly?"
His hot breath brushed across Augusta's throat as he spread tender kisses on her throat, on her shoulder and between her breasts. His free hand glided down the naked figure, over her flat stomach, over her round bottom, along the outside of her thighs and back up again on the inside, until he finally stopped in the middle of her legs.
"This girl here below me is wet," he murmured, while playfully sliding a finger inside her, "and I know you are too. You belong to me, everything about you."
A second finger joined the first and he began to slide in and out very slowly. Unwillingly, Augusta moved her hip.
"But you keep trying to elude me," he said plaintively, accelerating the pace. "Friendships with students from Gryffindor, an affair with Abraxas. That is not nice of you, Hermione, when I am so loyal to you. I promised to look after you. I promised to introduce you to the Dark Arts. Don't you see you need no one else but me? Obey me!"
Slowly he pulled both fingers out of Augusta, wiping them on her bare thighs, while at the same time forcing them further apart. He positioned his now hard cock right in front of her, his hands buried in her hips.
"Face it, Hermione," he commanded sternly, looking Augusta firmly in the eye. "You cannot control it. You can't control yourself. You are too weak to be alone. Let go. Forget your pride, forget the idea that you can control your life. Give yourself to me. Give me control and responsibility. I can take it. I'm strong enough for both of us. You don't have to force yourself to do things you can't stand! Let yourself go."
And it was with these words that he entered Augusta. He did not care how her body involuntarily writhed in pain, nor did he care that she desperately clung to the pillow in an attempt to hold on to anything. This was about Hermione.
A scream escaped Hermione's throat as Tom entered her - entered Augusta. Through the connection to the other student, she could feel him inside her. Her own arousal mixed with Augusta's pain and horror, until she did not know anymore which was which.
Tom for his part only had eyes for the spot where his cock sank again and again into the woman's body. His one hand moved up to the woman's shoulder to press her firmly into the mattress while his other hand dug deeper into her hip. His rhythm became faster, harder.
Hermione lay sweating on her bed. She wanted to stop him. If he was actually here with her, she would have loved the way Tom took her mercilessly. But the longer she stayed in Augusta's perspective, the more she felt the girl's horror and pain. Tom was raping the innocent girl and she was his willing accomplice. Nausea crept up in her stomach.
Then, suddenly, without her doing anything, Augusta was gone. She lost connection.
Tom noticed nothing of this. He was so out of control now, too close to his own climax to have noticed how the little woman beneath him suddenly began to wriggle, lashing out at him and desperately trying to escape.
But she was powerless. One hand pressed her onto the bed, the other held her hip in place. Tears ran down her cheeks unrestrainedly while Augusta just waited for Tom to finish.
Hermione in turn did not hesitate for a second. Cursing and in tears she ran into the bathroom, washed her hands and straightened her clothes. She had to find Markus, immediately. She had no time to lose. She prayed that he was still in Hogsmeade in the Three Broomsticks. She prayed that he could save Augusta from falling into a deep, black hole. All her senses were focused on going through the right words in her mind that she would need to talk to Tom.
As long as she focused on this mission right in front of her eyes, she did not have to deal with what she had just done.
