Chapter Eight: Veritaserum

Previously:

When I remained silent he continued; "Don't tell me you kissed me back just for the sake of it; 'cause I might have to curse you if you did." He laughed.

A small smile flickered at my lips, but then I remembered that a dead girls' body was lying in cubicle not 2 meters away from us.

My smile faltered, "You murdered a young girl, Tom, because she was a Muggle born. Don't think I can forgive you that easily." I whispered and tore myself from his grasp.

***

The lake, I noticed, mostly consisted of greens, blues and purples. The beaming sun reflected on the surface, creating a shining sheet of silver. Not an awful lot had changed really, although the tall wooden stands used for the Tri Wizard Tournament were not standing from within the water. Tears rimmed my eyes as the memories of preparing Harry for his next challenge drifted to the centre of my mind; Ron holding a grudge for not telling him about entering himself into a tournament which was practically impossible, although deep down we both knew Harry wouldn't deliberately and knowingly walk into a death trap.

My eyes flew over to the Whomping Willow which swayed peacefully in the cool air and inhabited a rather large plot of land beside the Forbidden Forest. Once again, memories of my third year at Hogwarts floated to mind and I was reminded of our first encounter with Remus Lupin and the Dementors, the constant fear that the innocent "murderer", Sirius Black, would somehow break into the school and kill Harry, the shock when I discovered our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was a werewolf! And Peter Petigrew, how he had lived as a rat for thirteen years, secretly a follower of Voldermort. He had been the real murderer, but the only person who knew this was locked up in Azkaban, falsely accused of the murder of Petigrew.

I walked to the side of the lake, imagining the amazing life inside the watery depths. Then a picture entered my mind; Dumbledore's funeral. I found myself crouched by the edge, holding my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth whilst silent, warm tears cascaded slowly down my cheeks.

I hadn't informed anyone of Myrtle's death; how could I explain that she had died in my presence and I hadn't even known he was dead? I may have been an intelligent and well-liked witch, but I wasn't capable of getting away with murder. Unlike our-boy-wonder Tom Riddle, of course.

The teachers hadn't known what to do when one of the female students came across Myrtles body in the cubicle; never before had they experienced the death of a student and I expect it was new to them. In the future, the death of a loved student was all too common for comfort. First was the death of Cedric Diggory, then Dean Thomas was discovered in the forbidden forest during the holidays before our 7th year, Fred Weasley and ex-students Sirius and Lupin, Cho Chang was murdered by a man called Avery who had been one of Voldermorts first followers, then Ron was killed by Bellatrix. Harry was missing and people thought he was dead, but I knew better, if Harry was dead Voldermort would know about it, and life would have been even worse. But Harry was the last Horcrux, and unfortunately eventually he would have to die, or Voldermort would forever be immortal.

Maybe if you find the objects close to him before he turns them into Horcrux's then it will be easier to stop him, I thought.

The idea seemed obvious yet genius to me, all I needed to do was steal his ring, find the locket, kill his snake, and…

Suddenly the idea didn't seem so appealing. The chances of getting out alive once he realised his possessions had been stolen were pretty small, and I wasn't sent here to die in the first few weeks!

No, I had a plan. I had a way of getting into his heart, whether he would react well or not wasn't any concern on mine, it would matter to me if he did react at all! I had shocked him by knowing his name, and I had shocked him by knowing about the basilisk, he had kissed me, and I knew he had killed Myrtle. There were many ways I could blackmail him, although mere blackmail would never work, he would kill me too fast. I needed another way to get at him. Maybe if I asked about his family, more importantly his father. His blood; he was not Pureblood as many people presumed; he was a Half-blood because his mother had been a witch and his father had been a heartless Muggle. Well, until Tom killed him of course, which is where he got the Gaunt ring from.

I glanced cautiously up at the castle and saw a bright flash appear from inside the Head Boys dormitory. My eyes widened as I saw the silhouette of 7 people emerging from the window. One person was standing tall with their wand pointed away from them, and the other 6 were kneeling before them, heads bowed as he towered above them.

No guesses who that is, I thought.

"Visum," I mumbled and with a flick of my wrist my vision zoomed in on the scene before me, and the blurry silhouettes transformed into detailed people.

Tom seemed to have a thunderous gleam in his eyes, although his followers hadn't seemed to notice because he had disguised it well as an expression of amusement. His right wand hand was lifted slightly and pointed to the fourth follower; he made no attempt to hide the fear scraped on his face as Tom spoke, "You have failed me, Nott." He said in a confident and dominating voice.

"Yes, Master. I apologize, it won't happen aga-" he began in a quiet voice, shaking with fear, but Tom cut him off angrily.

"Did I say you could speak?!" he snapped, glaring daggers at Nott's trembling form.

He didn't respond, just knelt before Tom like a slave.

"That's better," Tom said, "I am not forgetting you, Rosier. Both of you are to be punished. However, I will not be the person to do this." He paused and started pacing back and forth from his bed and to the wall.

"Mulciber, you specialise in the Cruciatus curse. Make it powerful, or you will be on the receiving end of my wand as well as them." He growled.

"Yes, Master." Mulciber mumbled and bowed his head, taking his wand out as he stood and lead them from his room and to wherever they tortured people.

The remaining followers I recognised as Avery, Lestrange and Dolohov, three Death Eaters I had encountered during my time in the future. They all wore smug faces as their eyes trailed after the two who had seemingly failed their master. It disgusted me how they followed him like love sick puppies!

"I am, however, slightly pleased with you three; especially you, Avery." Tom mused, not once looking in their direction. "You will be rewarded. Meet me in the Dungeons after classes next Friday. But for now, we must discuss these turn of events…"

Avery, Dolohov, and Lestrange all looked equally confused.

"Idiots," Tom mumbled, "I see as your confidence rises, your stupidity increases, my Knights." He spat, "As you know, the Mudblood is dead. Now you must find the locket of my ancestors and I cannot even begin to explain how important this is. If you fail me, you will be punished ten times as painfully as Nott and Rosier, understand?" he continued firmly.

They nodded in unison and Tom smirked slightly.

The poor light seemed to be dimming and I soon realised that my vision was decreasing as the spell wore off. I cursed silently when the detailed figures and raised voices grew to blurry silhouettes and silent voices.

I started mindlessly up at the window for a few more minutes, watching perplexed as he went Dolohov, Lestrange, and Avery away and continued to pace slowly around the room.

It was now that I realised just how far from the castle I was. In fact, I could just see Hagrid's hut from here. But in this time it wasn't his hut because no one lived in it; it was more like a store room, or a shed really.

A hand clasped my shoulder firmly brought me from my day dreaming and spun me around angrily. My eyes met with those of Draco Malfoy as his glare burned into me. His hand moved from my shoulder to grip my arm firmly, almost painfully.

"What's up with you?" I asked, gritting my teeth and wincing as his fingers dug into my flesh.

"You have some explaining to do." He snapped and I was suddenly yanked forward and dragged back into the castle. Usually I would have admired the corridors as we passed the more artistic part of the castle; but there was no time for admiration because it seemed that a particularly angry Slytherin took fit to dragging me through the corridors like a doll! His nails were digging painfully into my skin and if he squeezed any tighter he would have drawn blood!

No matter now much I tried to force him to let me go, his hand wouldn't give and if anything, he tightened his hold on me.

"Draco! Let me go now!" I shouted clawing at his arm.

He didn't reply, just continued to pull me along behind him roughly, yanking me forward if my pace slowed or if I stumbled. He was really starting to annoy me. Then suddenly Draco came to an abrupt halt, and his fist tightened. I glanced upwards to find his pale face twisted with anger and hatred. It didn't take a genius to realise who had stepped out in front of the charging blond. I glanced in front from around Draco and wasn't surprised at who I saw.

"Dehavilland," Tom greeted Draco and at the sight of me crumpled behind him with my arm held in front of me, his eyebrows raised, seemingly amused.

"Riddle," replied Draco; obviously gritting his teeth.

Tom watched me carefully, the amusement not only showing in his eyes but also as his lips twisted into a strange smirk.

"And, Ms. Dehavilland also…would you care to tell me why you are on the floor?" he said sweetly, batting his eyelashes like a saint.

I glared up at Draco and he immediately let my arm go. It still stung and felt strange now the pressure wasn't on it, but I bit my tongue so that my pain wasn't visible. A red rash had appeared on my skin, and I ran my thumb along it slowly, noticing how warm it was.

"I don't see how that is any of your business, Riddle." I replied, equally sweetly and flashing him my most angelic smile.

"Of course, you are right, Hermione; as usual," he replied and took a casual step towards us, eyeing Draco's rigid form disapprovingly.

He made no effort to disguise his look of disgust he directed at Draco, yet I couldn't see why he would disapprove of him, unless he still held a grudge for interrupting our encounter before and duelling. His gaze moved from Draco to me and a gleam in his eyes appeared once more as did his smirk.

"Potions tomorrow, Hermione," he informed proudly, "do not be late."

And with that, he went and left us standing suspiciously in the corridors, our gazes trailing after Tom until his shadow had disappeared.

The silence could have been cut with a knife; it was awkward and I found myself studying the walls with no interest at all and shuffling my feet. I clasped my hands tightly behind my back and focused on anywhere other than Draco.

"It's late," I muttered, "and I'm tired; I'll see you in the morning."

I went to walk pass Draco but his hand suddenly shot out to lightly touch my hand and press it to his cheek tenderly. His eyes squeezed shut and a slight smile appeared on his face. Any other time, I would have snatched my hand back immediately, but he looked so peaceful and happy, almost like a young child, and I didn't have the heart to deny him.

"I suppose I have to apologize;" he began, opening his eyes and staring me in the eyes, "I shouldn't have reacted how I did, but I couldn't ignore the rumours and when I asked Riddle where you were he answered with some smart-ass remark which made me snap…" he explained.

Rumours? I thought. I hadn't heard any rumours lately…well, not significant rumours anyway.

"What rumours?" I replied, confused.

Anger flickered in his eyes, "Don't pretend you don't know. Everyone's heard about you and Riddle." He growled.

My eyes widened in surprise and I almost bit my tongue off when he said that! Me and Tom? Nothing was happening between us at all to my knowledge…so who had been spreading rumours about us?

Draco, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about…I thought, honesty scraped on my face.

Well, the stuff I've heard sounds pretty convincing to be honest, he grumbled.

Draco, I'm telling you that I haven't heard anything, and anyway, what have you actually heard? I snapped, rather annoyed.

Draco mentally sighed and dropped my hand, I really cannot be arsed to explain to be honest; look into my memories and I'll show you what I've heard, ok?

I nodded and Draco's memories flushed their way into my mind as I watched the scene emerge;

Draco and Nott walked side by side down the corridors talking quietly about Mona Parsons; a young Slytherin girl in the year below with luscious brown eyes and silky brown hair. I had known that back in our time, Draco had been quite the ladies man, but I had never spoke to him back then and I hadn't ever took any notice of his attraction to certain women. In a way, it disgusted me because he seemed to think he could get any girl he wanted, but now I had got to know him I realised that there was more to him than flirting and sex.

As the late snow settled on the stone in the courtyard, Draco and his companion settled on the wall and began laughing and joking about something I couldn't catch because there voices seemed to be muffled. Times like these I really wished I could lip read.

There conversation was interrupted as Parsons skipped up to them and smiled sweetly like a toddler receiving a toy. She seemed to be a nice girl really, apart from the fact that she obviously knew the effect she had on the two boys and used that to her advantage.

"I must say, Draco," she chimed, "I am rather surprised at your sister's behaviour."

Draco stared dumbfounded at the girl and his silver gaze flickered from her to Nott many times. Then he laughed, "Sorry, I must appear rather ignorant," he chuckled, "but I hadn't realised Hermione was acting in any unacceptable way, Mona." He said almost sharply.

The stupid girl looked offended at his tone and huffed in an unlady-like manner, "Well, I am referring to the Riddle situation of course. Do not tell me she didn't tell you, Draco…" she said innocently, touching his arm lightly and pouting.

When I see that girl I'm going to curse her 'till the cows come home, I thought.

"Nott," Draco began, looking at the man beside him, "have you heard anything about Hermione and Riddle?"

Nott shuffled uncomfortably and replied in a gruff and guilty voice; "Yes, I'm afraid I have, need I say you won't like it, Draco." He warned.

Draco grew impatient and was tempted to whip his wand out and curse them until they spilled all they knew about his "sister".

"Well?!" he demanded, "Is someone going to explain what the hell is going on?" he almost yelled with frustration.

Parsons laughed lightly and pranced around the boys, teasing them whilst giggling like a baby, "Your sister is Riddle's whore of course,"

Draco stood abruptly and gripped his wand with a deathly firm grip, his jaw clenched, teeth gritting together and eyes blazing with the utmost anger.

"This is the first I've heard of this," he growled, eyeing Parsons as if she had grown a second head.

"Well, I cannot see how you would not have heard it," she replied sweetly, "it has been repeated around the school over a thousand times and it would surprise me if even the teachers have not been informed!" her tone was sickly, and brought a shiver to my spine.

"Hermione is not a whore." He said through gritted teeth.

Nott reached upwards cautiously to grip Draco's shoulder and pull him back down, "Mate, it's probably bollox anyway, don't listen to pathetic rumours, yeah?" he said.

"Yes, it is bollox," he replied threateningly, "you dare spread this, Parsons, and I swear on my father's grave you won't live to see your 18th birthday."

The seriousness reflected in his silver eyes and burned holes into Parsons Conscience. She backed away smirking, but the fear she felt was screaming from her eyes.

"Fair enough, but I'm only saying what I've heard, Dehavilland." She replied sweetly and skipped back into the castle.

Draco sat back down and studied the snow falling from the bright sky, cascading down and down, eventually landing in the form of snowflakes in his hair, on his skin, and on the sleeve of his shirt where he brushed it away angrily and crushed the remaining white ice underneath his foot.

Nott mumbled some words of comfort to him, but the image was fading and their words began to muffle gradually and the memory faded from my mind…

I stared aghast at Draco, who until now I thought knew me to be a respectable, sensible, and a mature woman; I had obviously been wrong. If he believed what he had been told, then he didn't know me as well as I thought he did…and what gave him the right to start demanding information out of me which, even if it was correct, was none of his damn business! I could feel my neck heating up as tended to happen when I grew especially angry. But to say I was angry would be an understatement; I was down right furious, and I felt ashamed to know he thought I was capable of being Tom's whore, let alone anyone else's!

"It isn't true," I said, shocking myself at just how calm I really sounded, "I will not lie and say I am not appalled to know you thought I was a whore, Malfoy," I spat his name like it was poison, "but as I said earlier; I am tired. Goodnight." And with that I marched to my dorm and fell instantly asleep as I was overwhelmed by exhaustion.

The following morning, I had greeted Draco with an upturned nose and an unpleasant grunt, which was more than he deserved in my opinion. To think so little of me was an insult indeed and I would no go down without a fight! If he desired my attention so very much, then I would only accept a detailed apology and a trip to The Three Broomsticks. But Malfoys were too proud to admit defeat, so what I wished was almost impossible to reach.

I had to appear as if all the rumours didn't exist; people would revel in the fact that their lies were getting to me if I let my emotions show, so my only hope was to appear ignorant to the stories and act normal seeing as it was all bollox anyway!

For the majority of the day I had been with Cygnus, as Druella had been taken ill from falling on the spikes of a Milumbus Mimbletonia during one-to-one tuition with the Herbology teacher. Cygnus had insisted that he should stay with her in the hospital wing, but the Matron and Druella were having none of that as we were being assessed on our Potions class this evening.

Cygnus and I hardly spoke that day really; it was obvious he was thinking about the things he had heard, which made me angry because even he didn't look at me in the way I should have liked! Once lunch was over I rushed from the hall and made my way to the Potions lab and sat beside a rather smug looking Tom. The beginning of the lesson was quiet and awkward as we awaited the arrival of the remaining class members. I didn't dare glance over at Tom, and yet I knew if I did, I would either want to smother him, or strangle him. Had he started these rumours?! If so, why would he do that unless his goal was to isolate me?

Anger suddenly flashed through my body as I watched his followers enter the room; eyes focused on their master, flickering nervously over his form checking for any signs of anger. I ever so quickly glanced at him and noticed a small, evil smirk curl at his lips.

"Today, students," Slughorn boomed, "You will be brewing Veritaserum. Would anybody like to give the class a description of this potion?"

My hand flew up immediately, followed by Tom's hand raising lazily as if it was effort.

Slughorn smiled down at me and sent an apologetic look in Tom's direction. Stupid fool, I thought.

"Yes, Ms. Dehavilland, would you care to elaborate on my brief introduction?" he chuckled and tapped his already prepared draft of Truth Serum.

"Yes, Professor, Veritaserum is a powerful Truth Serum that is most commonly used in interrogation. The potion effectively forces the drinker to answer any questions put to them truthfully, though there are some difficult methods of resistance. Use of the potion is strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic, and it is no more reliable for wizards than a polygraph machine is for Muggles, and for the exact same reasons. Veritaserum is clear, colourless, and odourless and is almost indistinguishable from water. It can be mixed with any drink, and once drank will take immediate effect until the person being interrogated is given the Antidote." I explained.

Slughorn gave me a goofy grin and clapped enthiusiastically, "Very well described, my dear! I think that deserves 30 points to Slytherin."

I nodded in appreciation, and focused ahead pretending not to notice the deathly glare Tom was giving me.

"I will put you into pairs and you will go by the intructions and brew the Truth Serum. Once you have finished, each of you will be given a drop of the potion and your partner will ask you questions," he chuckled, "Don't make them to personal mind. You can ask three questions only, then you must give your partner the Antidote, and swap." He smiled before reading out the names from a list; "Nott and Michelle. Mulciber and Cygnus. Avery and Crouch. Riddle and Dehavilland. Rosier and Lestrange…" his list went on and on, and all the pairs drew together (albiet reluctantly) and began to create the serum.

It didn't take us an awfully long time to make, seeing as I already knew the ingredients and had the exact measurment memorised. Tom and I hardly spoke unless it was discussing the reactions of the ingredients and they entered the cauldron. All together, I rather prefered it like this. Not having to put up with his smart-ass comment, or smug smirks and evil glints was quite a relief.

"Ok class," Sughorn announced 30 minutes later, "By the looks of things, you have all suceeded in brewing this potion; some better than others," he mummbled the last part, "now, whoever I names first in your pairs will be first to be interrogated," he chuckled with mock evilness, "when needed, I will supply you with the antidote, but for now…on with the interrogation!" he exclaimed gleefully.

"Well, this should be interesting." Tom chuckled, eyeing my rigid form.

I nodded in agreement and told him to open up as I fed him with two drops of Veritaserum.

He squirmed as the warm liquid trickled down his throat and coughed once before staring back up at me, waiting for the questions.

"Hmm…" I pondered, "What did you dream about last night?" I asked slowly…Lame, yes I know, but I really couldn't think of anything.

Tom answered simply; "I don't dream. I haven't since I was a child."

I frowned, surprised at his answer; a pang of pity shot through me which unnerved me greatly.

"Ok," I mummbled, "next question," I smiled.

"Why do you think Muggle borns have no right to magic?" I asked quickly.

"Because they are filthy beings, and I hate my father." He answered quickly, but winced aftwerwards. He obviously couldn't hold back what he had just said.

Ah, yes, I thought, His father had been a Muggle.

"Last question, Dehavilland," Tom snapped, not looking me in the eyes, "Hurry up!"

"Yes, yes ok," I replied sharply.

I thought for a long time before a useful question popped into my mind; "Why did you kiss me?" I whispered.

There was a long moment of silence shared between us for a while. Tom seemed to be having a mental argument with himself, his hands were shaking, his eyes were blazing with anger, and above all else…he seemed to be blushing!

With a controlled deep breath, Tom openned his mouth to answer and closed his eyes, "There is something about you, Hermione, some form of mystery which draws me in. I couldn't help myself." He whispered, his cheeks suddenly growing very pale.

I couldn't reply…I didn't know what to say, and before I could say anything, Slughorn had turned up behind me and was already pouring the Antidote down Tom's throat.

His eyes grew wide as he came back to his senses and took a cautious step away from me.

"Right, pay back." He growled, "Sit down, and drink this." He demanded pushing me roughly onto the stool and almost choking me with the Serum.

He leaped straight into the interrogation and didn't hold back or consider and reconsider as I had.

"Do you find me attractive?" he demanded.

"Yes." I answered without thought. I mentally kicked myself though.

"Why have you not been acknowledging me?"

"Because you have been spreading bollox about me." I growled.

Tom chuckled, and for the first time, he paused and frowned. But smirked after a moment and leaned in close to me so I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.

"Who are you really?" he whispered.

I could have killed him to be honest; Slughorn had said no private questions, he had just defeated the whole point of him wasting his breath.

"Hermione Jane Granger." I whispered.

***

Well, that chapter was significantly longer than my previous ones :L to say I am happy with this chapter would be an understatement indeed! Anyway, keep reading people :) RxR xxxxxxxx