You're everything I thought you never were,
And nothing like I thought you could have been.
But still, you live inside of me.
So tell me, how is that?
You're the only one I wish I could forget,
The only one I love to not forgive.
And though, you break my heart,
You're the only one, and though there
Are times when I hate you,
'Cause I can't erase,
The times that you hurt me, and put tears on my face.
And even now while I hate you,
It pains me to say.
I know I'll be there at the end of the day...

Disclaimer: All rights and characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros™. Song; Broken-Hearted Girl© by Beyonce. Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline.


Hermione decided she'd go straight back to her dormitory after the incident in Defence Against the Dark Arts. She knew Tom well enough now, to know that he'd want to question her at the first opportunity he had. She was more worried about the fact that she was missing lessons, that very well may be vital to achieving her NEWTs, as she tried not to think of Tom for now.

When Eileen, Roberta and all the other girls came in, she pretended to be asleep. But as soon as she was sure that they were all sleeping deeply, she cried silently into her pillow, images of Harry and Ron in that chamber, and Tom stood there watching while Voldemort took them away and murdered them swimming round her brain. She didn't want to sleep, for she knew her dreams would be filled with that awful green flash, and those hysteric screams.

But somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew they could only get worse.

She was dreading breakfast the next day.

She'd already spoken to Eileen and Roberta that morning in the dormitory, assuring them she was fine. But, obviously, they were a lot more understanding than she knew Tom would ever be.

Her feet dragged on the floor and her knees buckled as she made her slow, sluggish way to the Main Hall. Every single limb on her body felt weighed down, as though attached to a one-ton load.

But she knew if she didn't do breakfast now, it would be even harder the next day. If she shut herself away, she wouldn't be able to stick up for herself. Rumours would be free to spread and get as ridiculous as they wanted. No. She had to do this.

Determination always won in the end. Funny that, wasn't it?

Suddenly, a deep, snide voice announced itself, and Hermione jumped about a foot, detached from her train of thought. "Where are you going, Granger?"

There was a squeak and a shuffle, and she knew someone was behind her. She just didn't want to think about who it was...

Hermione turned and looked Tom Riddle straight in the eyes. That mocking cold smirk was once again plastered across his face, and his grey pools of wisdom seemed more alive than ever.

She kept a straight face, and replied, as toneless as she could, "Riddle."

Tom chuckled, and took a step towards her. It was then, and only then, when Hermione realised they were the only two in that corridor. "Now, Granger, don't be so heartless."

Hermione could have almost laughed. She would have, if she wasn't trying to look as though she didn't care less. Inside, her stomach was twisting into many impossible knots, and her mouth kept filling up and emptying with frothy saliva. Her palms were damp and her knees were struggling just to hold her up. It really was amusing, and almost ironic, that someone like Tom Riddle would call her heartless.

Hermione said nothing, and watching warily as he circled her. The eyes of the predator scanning the prey. The twitch of a mouse gazing into the eyes of the feline.

The lion in the snake pit.

Or a snake in the lion's den?

"You didn't sleep well last night, Granger." Tom stated, as more of a fact than an actual question. He stopped circling and stood in front of her, too close for comfort, in Hermione's point of view.

His smirk was beginning to become annoying.

Hermione gulped down the lump in her throat before answering. "No, I didn't."

She took a step back, and Tom merely chuckled and took another step forward.

Now a little overwhelmed, Hermione stepped back again, only to bump into something hard. She turned and saw a wall. A huge, stone wall, encasing her like a prisoner.

And Tom was the warden.

Oh, he was so clever.

His smirk was infuriating now, and he stepped forward once again, and placed one hand on the left side of Hermione's head. His other hand was in his trouser pocket.

They're noses were inches away from touching, and Hermione very hard tried – with difficulty – to control her breathing.

Her sweet, tingling breath was brushing his cheek, swirling inside his nostrils like an unwanted stench. It smelt of lemon, or some sort of sweet she'd eaten that morning. It was better than Tom would have expected.

"You should learn better sense of direction, Granger." Tom said, cruelly smirking even more, showing all his perfect, white teeth. Hermione recognised them as the teeth of Voldemort, and her stomach did a flip-flop.

He was referring to how he'd distracted her with all his circling, and confused her with her own turning, keeping her eyes on him. He'd managed to turn her around to the direction of a gap in the wall, just behind a pillar.

Tom's breath breezed onto Hermione's face. It was gentle, and thin. It smelt of peppermint, like the toothpaste he'd used that morning. Hermione hadn't expected to like it, but it was almost as delightful as fresh parchment.

Hermione didn't reply to his snide remark, but he chuckled and leaned in, closer. Hermione thought for a maddening half a second that Tom Riddle – the actual Tom Riddle; Voldemort to be – was leaning in for a kiss, but he skipped right past her lips until his chin was brushing her cheek. His lips pressed against her ear ever so slightly as he whispered, so quietly, it reminded her of Snape, that one night he'd saved her life.

"Say goodnight, Granger."

Hermione didn't have time to ask what he meant, because at that, there was a sharp pain in her lower abdomen, and Tom jerked before her. He was so close to her now, he was practically leaning her into the brickwork.

She gasped, and, as Tom pulled away from her, a red-tipped dagger displayed proudly in his hand, looked down. Blood was flowing like a magenta river from a deep gouge in her stomach and down her leg.

All of a sudden, in spite of the fact that she was like a dead man walking, she got an image of her first period.

She was thirteen, and she'd seen the blood staining her trousers and went to tell her Mum. Her Mum has been so happy that she was finally a 'woman', but sad that she was 'all grown up'.

Was it funny that her life was flashing before her eyes?

Hermione began laughing, dragged out and painful. With every shake of her ribs, her stomach reminded her of the wound with another sharp shoot of pain, and she collapsed onto the floor like a rag doll.

The spots were already dancing in front of Hermione's eyes, and the pain was excruciating. She felt like a cripple in need of assistance, and the warm liquid seeped up to her shirt, and all over her hands.

Tom knelt down beside her, staring at the strong girl below him, writhing in pain, blood covering her body. The smirk never left his lips.

He grabbed a clean patch of her jumper, and used it to wipe the blade clean. Once he'd finished, he stood up, tucked it neatly away in his robes, and turned on his heel.

With that, he walked away, whistling a mindless tune, not caring for the unconscious girl he was leaving behind.

Leaving to die.

N/A: Oh my God, you guys! I'm SO SORRY for the short chapter, and for making you wait so long, but school has just been piling up and piling up recently, and I thought this was a good cliff-hanger. ;)

I promise, the next chapter will TOTALLY make up for this one, and I REALLY hope you like this one! :)

Love you all, seriously. :D

Kelly xxx

PS, Please take notice of the song at the top, ;) and Review please ^_^