Super AU, totally different universe. Tom Riddle/Hermione


Death Gate

There were many secret things kept hidden away in the Department of Mysteries. Most curious of all is the structure known as 'The Veil'. Only recently, it had acquired a new name, 'Death Gate.' For the first time in history, the whispers stopped, and instead bodies came tumbling through. All dead, all showing signs of torture and abuse. Body after body fell through, sometimes more than 50 in a single day. After 2 weeks, the number was absolutely staggering.

Until one day, it all stopped, and only one body fell through. The body of a young woman. She couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen. Dirty curls splashed across the department floor, her body was covered in bruises and blood as was typical of most bodies that came through. There was a difference though, the word 'Mudblood' had been carved into her arm. It took longer than it should have for someone to realize she was still breathing. They had long stopped checking for any signs of life by that point.

This was all highly top secret information of course. Only a handful of Witches and Wizards outside of the Unspeakable's that worked in the department knew of any of it, let alone of the mystery Witch. Of course Tom Riddle knew. He had eyes and ears in every department within the Ministry. That was also how he was able to find himself outside of the Witches recovery room at St Mungos. The guards stationed at her door conveniently gone. Tom always found a way.

Letting himself into the room, he paced quickly towards the Witches bed. This was Toms way, he had infinite patience, until he didn't. And Tom had waited much too long to finally get a look at one of the bodies that had fallen through Death's Gate, let alone the only live one.

Alive. The only living being to have ever come out what had been thought to be an opening to the land of the dead. The first thing he noticed were her curls. Her famous curls. His little snakes in the Ministry that spied on his behalf had all mentioned the girls curls first when describing her. Dark brown, almost black, the mane of hair surrounded her head and fell off the side of the bed like a waterfall. Her face was soft and unlined, revealing her young age. Heart shaped, with a straight nose, cupid bow lips, and almond shaped eyes that were closed in sleep. She was a step above plain. Pretty in a way that was pleasant, if forgettable.

Tearing the blanket off her, he took in the rest of her. She was lithe and long, at around 5'7. Her body was slim, and the barest bit underfed. He had known from the reports she had been downright skeletal with malnutrition upon falling through the Gate. He suspected her healthier body mass was likely due to the care she had been receiving.

All signs of abuse and torture had been wiped from her body, except for the bandage around her left arm, and another wrapped around her neck. With a wave of his hand, both unwrapped themselves to show what hid beneath. There was a thin line that ran across her throat, where it had been cut superficially. "Mudblood' is what caught his eye right away though. His breath left his lungs in a jagged gasp as he bent down to look closer. He had known of the markings of course, he was also aware that the staff at St Mungos had called in specialist after specialist, trying to heal the wounds, but none had yet had success.

The slur sliced into her arm, and the slice across her throat would never be able to be erased. Forever would her skin bear the scars. Forever they would mark her for all the world to know, a Mudblood. What ever made these cutes was a dark object, and darkness always left a mark.

Mudblood. Not a term used in polite society. A class of Magical people that has been much debated over the centuries. Some considered them gifts from Magic itself or from universe blessing the world when in need.

Others thought their occurrence much more sinister. After all, the muggle mothers always died after childbirth, that fact reeked of blood magic and demon pacts. The muggle women would experience an easy pregnancy, free of any hardships or accidents. During the birth it was almost as if they experienced no pain. But then, after holding their child in their arms for the first time, they would pass away with a smile on their lips. (1)

With a wave of his hand, the bandages wrapped back around her. He paused before putting the sheet back over her. He didn't have much time left, but something was off. Narrowing his eyes, he dropped the sheet and lifted both hands over her body. Not even 5 minutes later, he found what he was looking for.

Ripping open her hospital gown, he bit his lip at the sight before him. She had two scars cutting across her torso. One scar started just below her collar bone, and stopped at the swell of her breast. The other started below her other breast and reached down across to her hip. The skin looked as if liquid gold had been poured into the scarred tissue. Making the skin smooth and taught instead of jagged. (2)

It reminded him of a Japanese teapot his old Ancient Runes professor always had on her desk. Some clumsy Hufflepuff had knocked it off its place and it had shattered across the floor. A week later, it was back in its spot, gold lines intersected showing all the broken pieces that were fit back together like a jigsaw puzzle.

He had asked the professor why she had not used Magic to fix it.

"Kintsugi", the old gnarled Professor had replied. An old Japanese practice of repairing broken and chipped pottery. "There is beauty in flaws and imperfections. And there is strength in knowing you had been broken once before, only to be whole again."

Tom had thought the sentiment foolish and absurd at the time. But now, looking at the girls body below him. A Witch that had fallen through the literal gates of death, seeing the signs that she had fought and bested death over and over again…

Without even realizing it, Tom found his fingers ghosting over the gold lines, inch by inch in wonder. His breath hitched as the physical touch brought to him one last discovery. A burning and bright rolling heat sat inside the Witch. The Mudblood was powerful. Her Magic tugged at his own so deliciously, so deceptively sweet and warm, before it latched onto his own. With a muttered curse, he recoiled physically and magically from the girl, but too late, her aura had already drunk heavily from his own powerful well of Magic. With a gasp, the girl's back arched as her body quivered, and then her eyes opened.

Her eyes changed everything. Dark pools of bitter dark chocolate, framed with even darker full lashes. They changed her face from passingly pretty, to something else entirely, something he couldn't look away from.

The moment dragged on for only a few seconds, Tom wanted it to last years, but as always time was never on Tom's side. He was made aware that his time was very nearly up by the vibration of his wand in his robe pocket. Biting his lip to keep from cursing, he raised his hand and waved it over the girl. Her magic fought back instinctually, but she was still too weak to hold out for long, and she quickly succumbed to sleep under his spell. With another wave he fixed her hospital gown, and with a flourish her blanket covered her back up.

Turning around he strode quickly out of the hospital room, never looking back. He couldn't look back. If he did, he would burn the hospital down to the ground to steal her away. To take her somewhere where no one else could see her, feel her, know her. Only him. He would hide her away like he did all his treasures.

It would be weeks before he could fall asleep without seeing her eyes staring back at him.


1. This has been mentioned in a few of my other stories. But yeah, I made it so Muggle women die after giving birth to a witch/wizard. Just canon on my AU fics across the board.

2. It is against my better judgment that I am including scars from the Ministry Debacle on Hermione's body. In the books it is never confirmed that she has any physical scars from this. In the fanfic community, lots of people like to disfigure Hermione with them. I generally feel that her having to deal with Mudblood being forever carved into her body is bad enough in canon.
In this story (and a few others I have planned) I like to make these scars beautiful, and a sign for those to see, surviving is more than enough. Surviving is everything.

Not gonna lie, this will be updated very sporadically. As much as I love dark fics, I just am not good at writing them. And Tom Riddle should absolutely be dark, dangerous, and reprehensible. Also, if you haven't read my work before and don't know what you're getting into, I write completely AU. I don't write War Fics either. If I have Tom Riddle in a fic, it's because he never became Voldemort.

If that's not your cup of tea, that's fine! You have been warned though.