Author's Note: The next chapter might take one or two weeks to update, as my finals start on Thursday *nervousness* so I need to prepare and all that fun stuff. However, I am planning to start a new story, so add me to your author alert if you have any interest in reading it. It's another Tomione story, so if you haven't gotten sick of Tom and Hermione in this story, feel free to read that one. I am not dropping this one; the new story will merely be an option when I experience a writer's block in this one but still want to write.
On that note, I wish all of you a happy long Memorial Day weekend for those of you living in the US, and a safe trip if you're going anywhere. (I'm going a whooping fifteen feet from my computer to my dining room to eat. Wish me luck.)
Thanks for all of your reviews!
Daughter of Oceanus, asianstotheleft, marauders rox, TheGirlonFire52, Virtuoso Wanderings, Alassea Riddle, voldyismyfather, UniCryin, TheEscapeFromReality, CathyCullen16, LadyBalacenia
"It was Eileen."
"Nick, you have no proof," Hermione scoffed. "Just because she left to take care of her own business does not mean that she killed Erica." The faint torches illuminated their faces, the flickering flames the only sound in the corridor.
"Who else would it be?"
"There are so many students in this school. You heard Pomfrey. She doesn't have a single clue who the suspect was. It was Christmas shopping week. Everyone is coming and going as they please. You can't just single one person out without any proof. I doubt Eileen could've gotten back so quickly, anyway. You can't apparate into Hogwarts directly."
Nick scowled. "I don't see why you so avidly defend Eileen all the time."
"I'm not defending her. I'm merely saying not to jump to conclusions."
Nick rolled his eyes. "Did you see Erica's parents? Dippet said that he was going to tell them that he was sorry for their loss, and that they were still investigating, but I doubt they'd take it well. They looked like they were going to hire the entire police force and interrogate everyone."
Hermione sighed. She had indeed run in to Erica's parents. She had accidently bumped in to her dad, and apologized. She had also said some kind, but cliché words about Erica's death, and both of them just scowled at her. Hermione could see where Erica got her personality from.
Immediately, Hermione felt bad about thinking that way about a dead girl, and she pushed that thought out of her mind.
"So, what happens now?" Hermione inquired. "I take it that the Christmas dance is cancelled? Pity. I actually quite liked my dress. Maybe next year." They both knew, however, that they was going to be no next year. Her father had only promised her one year of schooling, and Hermione highly doubted he would send here again.
It was never about the dance or the dress. It was about the experience, one she would never get again. Nick would, because he was brave enough to run away when he had the chance. She, however, was stuck.
"Actually, they're closing down the school for awhile," Nick said, looking to the side as Dumbledore headed down the corridor, giving the two of them a small nod. He didn't seem surprised that the two of them were out after curfew, nor did he dock points. "They want to investigate without the bother of students, but they're keeping tracking devices on all of us so that if they find evidence that points to us, they can immediately find it. I personally think keeping us all here would make it easier, but you never know what goes on in Dippet's head. "
No cozy visits to her father, then, though spending Christmas with her dad wasn't really one of the first things that came to mind. She had a feeling, though, that if her father really wanted her, he would find some way of disabling the device.
Nick seemed to read her mind and glanced at her worriedly. "Where are you staying, then?" he asked kindly. "I know you already refused, but the Weasley house is always open. They're very nice people, you know, though rather loud at times." He paused. "I'm guessing you're going to go back to Malfoy's house, though."
Hermione shook her head. "Abraxas offered. I'll go visit him, but I'm not going to live there. His parents don't like me, and his brother gives me the creeps." A quick look at Nick informed her that he had the pleasure of meeting Gabriel as well.
"Guess it runs in the family."
Hermione shot him a glare. "Black offered as well, but I don't fancy spending Christmas with Walburga. Or Avery, for that matter. According to Black, the two of them are back together." She paused. "I really hate her."
"Jealous?" Nick laughed at her expression. "What about your boyfriend then?"
"I told Tom that I wasn't going to officially recognize him as my boyfriend until he dropped Tracey, and that made him unhappy. I don't think he likes being told what to do. He's still rather mad right now, so I'm definitely not going to ask to live with him." She paused thoughtfully. "Actually, I don't know where he lives. He never told me." He never tells me anything, Hermione realized. Only when I get him drunk. Though, she would be the biggest hypocrite if she complained.
"Think it's a Manor?" Nick asked. "Somehow, I can't imagine Riddle living in a small flat. You said he's half blood, right? Since you said his father was muggle, then his mother must be a witch. Does he talk about her?"
"No. I don't know anything about his personal life."
Nick was about to respond when the topic of their conversation came strolling up, his hands playing with his wand. He reached over and snaked an arm around Hermione's waist, pulling her to him possessively. Nick frowned at the gesture, and Hermione squirmed around, only to have Tom tighten his arm. She frowned at him, but he either didn't notice or ignored her.
"You're supposed to be in your dormitory, Porter," Tom said softly, keeping his eyes at Nick. Hermione attempted to stomp on his foot, but he just moved it aside swiftly. "I think that'll be twenty points from Gryffindor." He glanced pointedly at Nick, who scowled but didn't move.
"And twenty from Slytherin."
Tom frowned down at her. "Now why would I do that?"
Hermione glared at him and firmly pushed his arm away. "You're a prefect. You're supposed to treat both houses fairly, or I could go to Dippet and tell him to take away your badge." Merlin knows it had spent her ten whole minutes earning those twenty points, but it wouldn't do if Tom started playing favorites. He was a prefect. He was supposed to set a good example for others.
"Fine," Tom said, taking away twenty points from her while scowling. She didn't know why he was so upset; he could easily gain twenty points back. "Run along now, Porter. Hermione and I have some…private business we need to attend to."
"We most certainly do not," Hermione declared, stepping away from the two of them. "I shall be going to sleep and the two of you shall do whatever you do at…" she checked her wrist, only to find out she wasn't wearing a watch. She grabbed Nick's hand instead, and Tom visibly glared at it. "Ten minutes before midnight. So goodbye."
She turned around, but before she could take more than a few steps, something painful gripped her wrist. She flinched slightly, and turned around to be met by Tom's thunderous eyes. "Where do you think you're going?" He asked angrily.
"Let her go, Riddle," Nick's voice was calm, but Hermione could hear the underlying anger. "You're hurting her."
Tom turned his head slowly towards him, his eyes blazing. Hermione eyed both of them fearfully. She knew that they were both quite capable wizards, and if they whipped out their wands, there was no doubt it wasn't going to be pretty. "And who are you to tell me what to do?" Tom hissed.
Nick suddenly stepped closer to Tom, and the two of them were face to face. Hermione gulped nervously as Nick narrowed his eyes. "Hermione's better than you on so many levels," Nick said. "You better watch your step, Riddle, or someone will take her from you."
Tom arched a lazy eyebrow. "Is that a threat, Porter?"
"It's a promise."
They both resumed glaring at each other, and Hermione finally managed to wretch her arm from Tom's tight grip on her wrist. "You two are being ridiculous. Can't we all just get along?"
Of course they couldn't. They were Slytherin and Gryffindor, and those two houses simply didn't get along if your name wasn't Hermione Granger. She sighed as the two of them ignored her, trading insults once more.
Hermione glanced down at her wand. It would be rather difficult to cast a spell at two people at once, so there would be time in between each spell. They were both capable wizards as well, so Hermione had no doubt that if she managed to curse the first one, the second one would have his wand ready to defend. She thought about just cursing Tom, but Nick was being utterly ridiculous as well. Did he think she needed him to fix her relationship with Tom? She was a big girl; she could handle things by herself.
Hermione opted for the easy way out. The two of them were so intensely bickering they didn't notice her at all. She raised both hands, lined them up perfectly, and promptly punched both of them in the face.
"What the hell?" Tom said, almost toppling over but managing to catch himself. Nick wasn't so lucky, and he ended up sprawled on the floor. She had missed their noses, so no blood flowed down their faces, but large, purple bruises began to form on their faces.
"Sorry," Hermione said meekly, watching them grimace in pain. She had just meant to jolt them from their conversation. "I think I over did it."
"You think?" Nick snorted. "Hermione, I wouldn't be surprised if my face turned purple tomorrow."
"I'm not going to apologize for punching you, though," Hermione informed him. "That you both deserved."
"I didn't think you would," Nick said, sitting up. Hermione's mind suddenly flashed to the fighting she used to practice with Nick. Neither of them would apologize for beating the other up, but they would always somehow forgive each other. The two of them exchanged a small smile which was broken by the angry throat clearing by Tom. He crossed his arms in front of his chest as he glowered at the two of them.
Hermione turned to him. "I think you should get your priorities sorted out before you come and speak to me again."
Tom regarded her coolly, the purplish bruise not taking away any of his attractiveness, much to Hermione's dismay. "My priorities?"
"Yes. I think you should sort out what you and Tracey have, and don't come near me until you have. I'm done playing this game with you, Tom Riddle. I want you to stay away from me, and from Nick as well. Goodbye." She spun away, and this time he didn't stop her.
When she got in to the Slytherin common room, her anger was still present. She scowled darkly at some first years, who cowered away, and found her feet leading her to the boy's dormitory.
"Hermione!" Abraxas smiled as she burst in to his room. She plopped down next to him, an angry look on her face. Cygnus raised an eyebrow at her noisy entrance, putting aside his book. Black had been in the process of changing, and he had his shirt off and was reaching for another one.
He caught her staring and grinned. "Like what you see?"
Hermione waved him off. "No need to get ahead of yourself," she said. "Nothing I haven't seen before." Black raised his eyebrows, but wisely decided not to comment. She figured that saying 'half naked men covered in blood' would scare him off. Though, it would be amusing to watch his reaction.
Abraxas broke the silence. "So, why were you so angry?"
Hermione's scowl returned again. "Tom."
"Ah, one word explains so much," Black said, putting on his shirt and leaning back against his pillows. "Lover's spat?"
"Can we please not talk about it?"
"Fine," Black glanced over at his brother. "Cy, pick a topic to talk about."
"Me?"
"No, invisible Bob behind you."
It was Cygnus's turn to scowl. "Don't make fun of me. That was such a long time ago."
Black suddenly grinned mischievously and turned to Hermione. "Cy here is a lonely fellow. One summer, second year, Violetta went to Paris with her family. And of course our twin love is so amazing that he decided that he was going to ignore me all summer because I stole his teddy bear."
"You forgot to mention that you took the said teddy bear and flushed it down the toilet," Cygnus mumbled, rolling his eyes.
Black waved him off. "Details, details. I was just trying to prove my hypothesis correct that the bear's head was indeed small enough to go down the drain." He grinned at Abraxas. "Abraxas here was the one who doubted me."
"You lost me my teddy bear," Cygnus replied moodily.
"It actually was too big to go down the drain," Abraxas said. "Except Black decided to make it shrink until it would. So technically, it was not my fault. If Black wasn't there, you would still have your teddy bear."
"Except it'd be soaked in toilet water."
Black cleared his throat loudly. "So that was the incident that made Cy decide to avoid me for that summer. Nevertheless, he got bored because I wasn't there to entertain him with my charming self." He ignored the eye roll from everyone in the room. "So he decided to make a friend named Bob to pass his time." Black tried to imitate his brother, though it wasn't very accurate. "Bob, I'm going to the bathroom. Stay here. Bob, I'm going to eat. Would you like some fish? Bob, would you like to sleep with me?" Black laughed. "Imagine what I thought when I heard that Cy was sleeping with some bloke named Bob."
Hermione noticed the very scary look Cygnus had on his face. "That is, erm, a very adorable thing to do," She tried to appease him. She noticed that he had slightly calm down—Cygnus had not been angry for long since the beginning of the year when he hated her—but was still glaring daggers at Black. She decided to change the subject. "So what do you guys usually do for Christmas?"
Abraxas blinked. "Nothing, really. Mother and Father are usually away or busy at that time, and Merlin knows I'm not going to sit around a Christmas tree singing carols with Gabriel. I'm usually by myself, with my homework." He groaned and looked at her. "My homework will be very lonely without you."
"I'm sure it'll survive." Hermione clipped. "It has you to keep it company, after all."
"Wait," Black said, looking between the two of them, his brow slightly furrowed. "I thought you were going to Abraxas's house for the break when you refused my invitation."
Abraxas shook his head. "She refused mine as well."
They all spun to look at her. "Where exactly are you going?" Black raised his eyebrows. "You aren't going to spend it with Tom, are you? He's usually dying to get out of—" He trailed off, looking away.
"Out of where?" Hermione pressed.
"Invading my personal life again?" Tom came in to the dormitory, closing the door softly behind him. When he stepped in to the light, Hermione could see the purple bruise beginning to expand. Hermione wanted to treat him and punch him again at the same time. Abraxas frowned at him, but Tom just nonchalantly plopped himself down on his bed.
"What happened to you?" Cygnus asked. Hermione still hadn't figured out the relationship between him and Tom. Was Cygnus one of Tom's followers? He seemed to be one of the only two people who could use a flippant tone on Tom and still get away from it. The other person was her, of course, but she didn't count. She wasn't taking orders from anyone whose name wasn't Grindelwald. "You look like a bull ran you over."
"Yes, a bull," Tom said thoughtfully, glancing over at Hermione. Hermione scowled, but didn't say anything.
Black's face, however, lit up. "Whoa, Squirtle did that?" He said, looking from the bruise to the scowling Hermione. "Reenacting that alley scene, aren't we?"
"Absolutely not. Tom's not nearly as attractive as those people."
Black raised his eyebrow as Hermione and Tom locked glances. He looked like he was about to say something, but noticed the thick tension in the room and closed his mouth. Abraxas sighed and quickly changed the subject.
"Tom, my parents want to know if you wanted to come over during break."
Tom broke their intense staring contest first, tilting his head to the side. "Yes," he said. "I'll go there as soon as I get out of there." His face soured. "The old codger is keeping extra tabs on me this year." Dumbledore probably thought Tom was responsible for the killings, Hermione mused. Though it was certainly a possibility, Hermione highly doubted it. Erica and Daisy were both murdered the same way; lots of blood. Tom would've just saved himself the trouble and cast the killing curse. It saved time, and would also be harder to track down.
Hermione looked back at him. "Get out of where?"
Tom met her gaze coolly. "I don't think you've deserved the right to know, Granger."
So they had gone back to using last names, had they? Two could play at that game. "I don't deserve the right to know, Riddle?" She glared at him. "Since when was this about me? Last time I checked, I wasn't the one prancing around Tracey like she is the love of my life."
"You were doing the exact same thing with Porter," Tom's eyes were icy cold, and she felt like they were piercing holes through her body. Well, she could do that as well.
"Nick and I were just talking!" Hermione replied hotly, her glare only intensifying. "There was no body contact. Nada. Which is more than I can say for you and Parkinson. Merlin knows how many other types of body contact you've shared with her."
Black made a choking sound, but both of them ignored him. "And what were you talking about with Porter that was so urgent? You could've waited until morning."
"Nick and I were talking because we were on our way back from seeing Erica's parents!" This was getting ridiculous. Since when had this whole thing become her fault? "If it bothers you so much, I'll make sure we go to his dormitory next time. Maybe I'll even have some body contact with him."
"Why would it bother me?" Tom sneered, all presence of the nice and respected prefect gone and left with only a monster. "I couldn't care less about what you do. Now get out before I make you."
She had been planning to leave the dormitory, but Tom's last statement sounded suspiciously like an order. And Hermione Granger didn't take orders from anyone. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and scowled. "You'll make me? And pray tell, how exactly will you make me?"
"I assure you, Granger, that I can throw punches better than you can," He was still sitting on his bed as Hermione sprang to her feet, her eyes furious. She absentmindedly noticed Abraxas, Black and Cygnus with a mixture of awe and fear etched on their faces. He tilted his head, and Hermione thought for a second that the egoistic prat he was was back. However, that awful sneer graced his face once again. "You punch like a sissy."
If she hadn't been so furious, she would've laughed. The mighty Tom Riddle, using words like sissy? It was a day in history. However, she simply glowered at him and swung her left arm. He hadn't been expecting it. After all, she was a righty. However, he didn't need to know that her father taught her to fight with both hands. Sticking only to one side, he said, was a major weakness and could make your weak side vulnerable.
There was a crack as her left fist connected with his nose, and she felt liquid dripping on her hand. Without waiting to see his reaction, she spun around and exited the dormitory, making sure to slam the door behind her.
Tom Riddle sat still on the bad, his hand going to gingerly touch his bleeding nose. His roommates were all staring at him in shock, but he paid them no mind. That was the second time she had punched him in a span of a half an hour.
No one punched him and got away with it.
Hermione Granger was going to pay.
ஐ
Hermione didn't interact with Tom again before she left. She had avoided him, opting to sneak in to the kitchens rather than eat in the Great Hall. The elves loved her, and she found out she rather liked them as well. She would give them presents, though they would never accept the clothes she got them. She tried to explain that she wasn't trying to free them, only trying to keep them warmer, but they got increasingly offended. She finally stopped giving them clothes. They stopped trying to poison her food after that.
She saw Abraxas, Black and Cygnus sometimes, and while they conversed, they avoided the room scene completely. She imagined that the three of them were curious, and she didn't know how much Tom told them, but she was grateful that they didn't push it. She didn't want to get them too involved; it was business between her and Tom.
She opted to spend the last week of school in the library, buried in books. Eileen had come and go, and even Violetta had come to visit at her, but her best companions were the Gryffindors. Nick and Ron came often, with Seamus sometimes in tow, though the latter left quickly, saying that there was no way he could blow up a book without Pince all over him. She rather appreciated the gesture, though; she knew how much studying irked the three of them.
She had ridden back to King's Cross with them. She had wanted to sit with Abraxas, Black and Cygnus, but she figured that they would be riding in the same compartment as Tom. So as the students went home one by one for break, she didn't get to see her Slytherin friends nor wish them to have a pleasant break. She wanted to; even one little smile or one small wave would've been sufficient.
It was all Tom's fault.
Hermione surveyed the house in front of her. It seemed cozy enough. She had asked Dumbledore if there was any places nearby to stay because she wanted to go sightseeing. He suggested this little house, saying that the landlady was extremely nice. Well, it certainly looked cozy, though a little shabby. She hadn't been expecting a five star hotel, though. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door.
"Hello?" She called out, looking around. The place seemed empty, though she could hear faint giggling on the floor above. Great, they sounded like children. She would have to be around children for at least a month. She didn't have anything against children, not really, but it was when they starting giggling and shrieking when she couldn't take them.
Especially children like Tracey Parkinson.
"Hello!" A woman came bustling down the stairs. Her brown hair was tied in a bun. While her voice was light, her face looked rather strict. She reminded Hermione of a combination between Pince and Pomfrey. "Welcome to our orphanage. Professor Dumbledore told me about you."
Hermione gaped at her. "Orphanage?"
"Yes." The woman frowned at her. "Professor Dumbledore didn't tell you?"
"He told me he found a hotel for me!" Panic shot through her. She couldn't live at an orphanage. She would get absolutely no peace and quiet. There would be kids. Lots and lots of kids. What if they stole from her? What if one of her precious books went missing? Her mind whirled on the seemingly endless amount of horrors that could arise from this experience.
"I'm sorry to hear about that. It must've been some miscommunication," The woman said absentmindedly. She didn't seem to be too interested in Hermione. "Since you came all the way down here, you might as well stay for awhile. I promise you'll have your own room and personal space." She held out her hand formally. "I'm Linda Cole, the manager of this orphanage."
Hermione shook it stiffly. Mrs. Cole took her on a brief tour of the orphanage, though to Hermione's relief, she didn't see any kids yet. She knew all of them were in their rooms, but she wasn't ready to face anyone just yet.
Hermione tried to nod and appear interested in the tour, but she found Mrs. Cole's voice to be dreadfully dull. She was almost like a robot; her voice was spoken in a monotone. Dumbledore obviously had a hidden agenda to get her to come to this orphanage, because nowhere in Mrs. Cole did Hermione find the 'extremely nice lady' Dumbledore had promised.
Finally, Mrs. Cole showed Hermione her room and left her alone. It was on the small side, though she couldn't complain. It even had a big bookshelf near the corner. She nearly hugged it. The bed was near the window, and the desk was next to the bookshelf. Perfect. That was all she needed.
As she started unpacking, and owl immediately flew over with a letter attached to its feet. She thanked it, but informed it that she has no treats. She wasn't expecting anyone to owl her, after all. The owl pecked her seven times for good measure, and then flew off. She could see it waiting on the roof of the opposite building though. Hermione sighed and ripped the seal off of the parchment.
Hey,
My parents are going away for New Year's, and my brother has decided to camp out at Avery's for the rest of break (I'm assuming that's why you turned down my invitation.) It'll only be us and maybe a few other people.
I'd be happy if you were here.
-AM
By 'other people,' Hermione assumed he meant the Blacks and Tom. He had probably neglected to mention the latter because he thought it would scare her off. Hermione sighed. It would do her some good to relax a bit. She picked up her quill and was beginning to write back when the door opened.
Hermione turned around as a boy who looked about her age walked in. He had shaggy blonde hair and hazel eyes. Hermione raised an eyebrow as he plopped himself down on her bed. Boys sure are forward these days.
"You're Hermione Granger," the boy said. Hermione placed her quill down and swiveled her chair to look at him. He wasn't looking at her, though; he was looking around her room.
"Yes, I am." She wasn't particularly pleased that he knew her name, though she knew he had probably just overheard when she was touring the orphanage with Mrs. Cole before.
His eyes passed over the bookshelf, now filled with books, and wrinkled his nose. "Why do you have so many books?" He asked. A look of disgust crossed his face. "I find them dreadfully boring."
He could walk down and invade her personal space, and she wouldn't have minded much. However, insult books in front of her and she was livid. "Get out," she spat at him.
The boy looked shocked and held up his hands. "Whoa, no need to get so defensive. I didn't mean to offend you," he cast one last glance at her bookshelf. "I'll try to refrain from insulting your books from now on."
"You better," She went back to her writing, trying to ignore him. The boy, however, seems to have no intention of leaving.
"I'm Jacob Anderson," he introduced himself. "You can call me Jake."
"Mhm." She paid him no mind, scribbling down words on her parchment. She hoped he would take the hint and leave. Unfortunately, he didn't appear to be so bright.
"Who are you writing to?"
"Someone." She sealed it up, and then placed it to the side. There was no way she could send it with him there. Abraxas's owl didn't look like the type to stay long, so she'd have to find another owl. She really wished he would get out, though she didn't want to be rude and say so.
He decided to drop the subject, much to Hermione's relief. She wasn't in the mood to talk about Abraxas or anything about Hogwarts. "So how do you like it so far?" Jake asked. "Heard that you thought this was a hotel."
Hermione just looked at him. "And how exactly do you know this?"
Jake just shrugged. "Eavesdropping is a man's best friend."
Hermione didn't think it was true, but she didn't want to voice her opinion. For once in her life, she had no desire to debate with this boy. He looked like the type that only came to meet her because of a dare. If that was the case, she wanted no part of it.
"Have you met any of the other kids yet?"
"Just you."
He smiled, as if secretly pleased. What exactly he was pleased about, she had no idea. If he was looking for a best friend, she didn't have time for that. If he wanted more…well, she still didn't have time for that. "Would you like me to tell you about the other kids?"
"Sure." She had long given up on trying to make him go away. He didn't seem the type who would do that unless she specifically asked. And she didn't want to make enemies on her first day. Plus, it'd do her some good to know a little bit about the other residents.
"We're all cool here," he said. "Well, except for four people. There's Eric, who has broken both his legs after he was pushed down the stairs. He's not able to walk, and has to get around in a wheelchair. He's been that way for awhile now. I think it's maybe six years? Maybe seven. Then there's Amy and Dennis, who were found in a cave. They've been driven insane."
He was gauging her reaction. He didn't get one. She had seen much more disturbing things in her past that she knew if she got hung up on little things like these, she would never make it through life. However, she wasn't her father either, so she felt sympathy towards these individuals she was to meet later.
"And the last boy," Jake shook his head, disgust evident on his face. "He's an alien."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Is he green?"
"He might as well be. He doesn't belong. Anyone who messes with him gets in freakish accidents, though no one ever can blame it on him. He's always standing on the other side of the room. We suspect he's the person who pushed Eric down the stairs, because Eric had stolen his yoyo the day before. However, he was standing ten feet away from Eric, so it's impossible."
Hermione froze as the description matched someone she knew. "And," she said, her eyes narrowing. Jake looked surprise to see her suddenly give him her full attention. "What is exactly the name of this boy?"
"Boy?" The door entered, and he entered, confirming her suspicions. "I've been reduced now to a mere boy now, have I, Granger?"
Jake clenched his fists, but Hermione just sighed. "Hello, Tom," she said. "I should've known you would be here."
"No," Tom said, leaning lazily on the doorframe. "You shouldn't have. That was the cause of this whole argument. You were trying to pry in to my personal life, and then you broke my nose because I wouldn't tell you."
His nose did look a lot better. Pomfrey's work, she supposed. Even the bruise was hardly showing now. Jake seemed surprised about this whole thing, staring at her in shock, but she ignored him. "You seem to have forgotten that this whole argument started with you and Tracey."
"It started with your jealousy."
Jake's jaw dropped open. "Are you two dating?"
"No," Hermione said, at the same time Tom said, "Yes." Jake's eyebrows shot up under his hair.
"Oh, it's yes now, is it?" Hermione said, trying to control the volume of her voice. Tom met her gaze coolly. "So you're going to forget about our whole argument?"
"I think you did more damage to me than I did to you," Tom said simply. "I think you should be quite grateful that I'm willing to forgive you. It was mortifying to have to walk down to the Hospital Wing with my nose bloodied." He knew as well as her, though, that the corridors should've been empty. There was no one but the portraits to look at him.
The nerve of him…"I'm done talking to you. You're still an insufferable prat." she said, getting up. He was blocking the door, so she pushed him. He caught her wrist and squeezed tightly, and Hermione resisted the urge to cry out. Instead, she tried to stare him down. "Let me go, Riddle."
"Where exactly are you going?"
"Where do you think? Dumbledore." Tom winced when she said his name, but Hermione ignored him. "He's off his rocker, sending me here. I'm not spending a month with you. That's final. Now let go of my arm, Riddle, or else I'll…"
"You'll what?" Tom raised his eyebrows. "You'll hit me again?"
She raised her left hand, and he instinctively brought his hand up to guard his face. Without thinking, she changed her plans and instead brought her knee up and kneed him in a very painful part. He doubled over, and she swiftly left the room, found the emptiest place she could and apparated away.
ஐ
Dumbledore, unfortunately, was not in his office, though she had a suspicion that he was avoiding her. She went throughout the day and didn't see him at all, and the other teachers were suspiciously quiet about it.
What on earth are they trying to do? Drive me crazy?
By dinner time, Hermione had grown frustrated and stomped back to the orphanage angrily. She would've loved to retire to her room, though she was sure that there were no house elves here to make her a midnight snack. She didn't fancy going hungry for her first night, either. Sighing, she headed towards the dining room.
Unfortunately, there were only two free seats. One was the table Tom was sitting at. There was no one five feet near him. Jake hadn't been kidding when he said Tom was an alien in the orphanage.
The other one was directly next to Jake, and he firmly placed his feet on the chair, signaling that the seat was clearly not open for her to sit in. There went her 'acquaintance' with him. To be honest, she was rather relieved, though she wished he had given her the option to sit there. She wasn't sure how well Tom would react to being punched twice and kneed once.
Tom was reading a book—she couldn't see the title, but she had no doubt it was dark—but looked up when she sat down politely on the opposite end of the table. He raised his eyebrows, but she ignored him and picked at her food with her fork. Hermione was well aware that the rest of the orphanage was watching, but there wasn't really anywhere else for her to sit, was there? She didn't fancy sitting on the floor.
"Hermione." Tom greeted, tilting his head slightly to the side. He seemed to do that more nowadays. Hermione noticed, with relief, that she didn't see any hint of anger on his face. Then again, he had always been good at hiding his emotions.
"Hi," she said, not looking up. After eating Hogwarts food for so long, it was quite easy to disappoint her. The muggle food seemed yummy enough, but she couldn't help but yearn for the skillful house elves of the Hogwarts kitchen. She mushed around her broccoli with her fork.
She had always hated broccoli when she was little. She supposed she could call it a fear, but one that she had gotten over with. Her mother used to be able to flash the green monster in front of her, and Hermione would jump up and hide in the Mansion's darkest rooms, ready to face any monster that lurked there as long as she didn't go anywhere near that ugly vegetable tree.
Of course, Nick had always run after her with one in his hands. Hermione supposed that they must've made quite an interesting sight. But then again, her father was constantly angry at the two of them, so she supposed it wasn't anything new.
"How was your day so far?"
"It was very nice," Hermione said absentmindedly, tossing her broccoli to one side. She saw Mrs. Cole casting her glances, so she tried to look interested in the food before her. The broccoli stared back, as if challenging her. Hermione Granger never backed down from challenges.
Except she really did not want to eat it.
"Frowning so much can't be good for your health," Tom said, ever so helpful. He, of course, was eating his broccoli with no problem. Hermione scowled down at her plate. The broccoli seemed to be mocking her. Tom's influence, she supposed.
"Would this be better?" Hermione raised her head and gave him a super big fake smile. It immediately vanished and she went back to playing with her food, though not before seeing a smirk appear on Tom's face.
"Perfect." Did Tom Riddle just coo? Weren't they supposed to be mad at each other? Yell and scream? Punch and maim? However, he had a smile plastered on his face, though she could see the amusement under his mask. Ah, so he had a secret agenda.
His next statement shocked her. "Christmas is coming. Would you like to go shopping with me?"
Hermione's jaw dropped open and she forgot her resolve to look at Tom angrily. "You want to go shopping with me?" She screeched, and was aware that everyone had stopped talking and was staring at them. Tom was smirking at her.
"Of course you," Tom drawled. "Who else would I be going with?"
"I don't know, Tracey?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "What, she had something to do so you needed to pass time? Is that why you're talking to me? You might as well stop. It's not going to work on me."
He ignored her comment about Tracey. "You always seem to assume the worst of me."
"I wonder why."
He grinned, seeming amused about the whole situation. "I didn't ask you to sleep with me," he said, and Hermione's cheeks immediately flared up. He smirked as she tried to turn her head to hide her vermillion face. "I just asked you to accompany me to shop. Though it looks like you're quite intrigued by the first idea as well."
"Fine," Hermione said, still mortified that she was as red as a tomato.
"Fine, you'll sleep with me?" Tom raised his eyebrows. "I didn't offer, but if you're so desperate, I guess I can—"
"Not sleep with you, you prat," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Who would want to sleep with you?" She ignored the look of mock hurt that appeared on his face. "I said yes, I'll go shopping with you. Where are we going?"
"A wizard town, of course,"
Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Shh!" She whispered, though he only continued to look at her, rather amused. "We're in an orphanage, Tom! What if someone heard you?"
"They already think I'm psycho," Tom shrugged. "Cole found one of the books I was reading under my bed. She burned it and locked me in my room for ten days. The rest of the orphanage now thinks I'm going to cast dark magic on them."
"Which you did,"
"Which I should," Tom clarified. "But I can't. The old codger took away my wand for the holiday, something about not trusting me. What's not to trust?" He gestured to himself while Hermione rolled her eyes. "I am perfect, after all."
"Of course," Hermione snorted. "What did Pince say about the burning of her book?"
"It was terrible. It took me two whole days to convince her to let me in the library. Think of all the work I could've been doing. I fell so behind on my studies."
"Don't be ridiculous." Hermione clipped. "You never spend time in the library studying, anyway. You spend it distracting people."
"True, true," Tom winked at her. "But I have an image to protect."
"Of course you do," Hermione waved him off, wiping her mouth on her napkin. "Merlin forbid that people know that the mighty Tom Riddle has been banned from the library for a whooping two days."
"Did you just say Merlin?"
Tom's eyes immediately hardened and snapped up to meet the person behind her. Sighing, Hermione turned around saw Jake with two of his friends standing behind her chair. He was shuffling around, uncomfortably, but his friends didn't seem to feel the same.
"Hello Jake," Hermione nodded at him. "Hello Jake's friends."
The girl threw her a haughty look. She reminded Hermione of Tracey. But then again, nowadays, almost every girl she saw reminded her of Tracey. The boy, however, just smirks wide and lets his eyes wander up and down her body. He reminds Hermione of Gabriel, and Gabriel always equaled bad.
"Why are you sitting over here?" Jake demanded, either not noticing or ignoring the looks his friends were shooting Hermione. His hands tapped the back of her chair nervously. "There was plenty of room over there."
"Yes there was," Hermione agreed. "Until you made it clear that you didn't want me over there when you put your foot on it. Pardon me for not sitting on your foot. If you ask me nicely though, maybe I'll consider it next time."
Jake frowned. "What's the matter with you?"
Hermione sighed. She was in no mood to start a major fight in the middle of the orphanage, not when everyone else was watching. There were a couple of extremely young children, and she didn't want it to get physical. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to invite you to sit with us," Jake said, and then leaned down. "You shouldn't trust him. He's not who he seems like."
Tom, she had always known, had an exceptional hearing, much like everything else he possessed. And based on the look on his face, he heard exactly what Jake said. He looked like he was going to start firing wandless curses at him, so Hermione kicked him under the table and shot him a look.
"Thank you for your concern," Hermione said as politely as possible, ignoring Tom's rather loud snort and kicked him again. This time he dodged, and her foot connects with the leg of his chair. She barely restrained herself from shouting out a word that the little kids didn't need to learn. "But I think I'm okay."
"No," the Gabriel wannabe butt in. Hermione raised her eyebrow at him. "You don't know." He pointed at Tom, who was now sitting with a look of indifference on his face. "He's a monster. He's sick."
Hermione saw Mrs. Cole watching, but the woman didn't seem to be ready to interfere. All the children watched as well, though it looked like this was a daily routine. No wonder Tom turned out as coldhearted as he was; this kind of environment could drive anyone insane.
She could see how it would especially affect Tom. Tom, who was the perfect student at Hogwarts. Tom, who everyone loved and admired and flirted with. Tom, who was treated as no better as crap here in the orphanage, a place he would need to spend both the winter and summer breaks in. No wonder Black said he was eager to get out of here.
"Did you know," the boy continued, not seeming to notice the frown on Hermione's face. "He skins rabbits for pure fun? Dennis annoyed him, and the next day his rabbit was hung and skinned. Dennis accuses him, and then Dennis goes insane." He sneered at Tom, who amazingly was still showing no emotion on his face. Hermione suspected it had something to do with his lack of wand, though.
The girl continued where the boy left off. "He's so annoying," the girl informed Hermione in her high pitched voice. "Like, oh my god, his ego much be so huge." Hermione couldn't argue with that. There were few people whose egos even came close to Tom's. "Eric beat him once in a race, and Tom broke both his legs. Oh my god, it's so terrible." She sniffed dramatically.
Though it sounded like something Tom would do, she highly doubted he would risk the wrath of Dumbledore just for a pesky race. Then again, he always wanted to be on top, so she couldn't really put anything past him.
Tom got up so suddenly, the chair scraped against the floor. Hermione looked at him fearfully, afraid he would start a major brawl in the middle of the kitchen. Jake and his friends, however, don't look too intimidated. They must've beaten him up many times before, because Tom without his wand is almost as close to useless. Hermione wondered why Dumbledore would continue sending her to this place…unless he didn't know about the treatment he was receiving.
Instead of fighting, however, Tom simply spun away and headed back up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door so hard they could still hear it from all the way downstairs. The boy and the girl snickered and high fived each other, and while Jake tried to look somewhat ashamed in front of her, he failed miserably. Even Mrs. Cole seemed to manage a small smile.
"You're all pathetic." Hermione said, standing up. The whole room went silent once again, as fifteen pairs of eyes met hers. "Teaming up against one person is cowardly. Don't you have anything better to do with your time than pick on him? If you would all just leave him alone, nothing would've happened. You just keep poking at him, trying to annoy him." Tom, she knew, wouldn't have bothered any of them. He wanted to be left alone, and he wanted nothing to do with the muggles. He wouldn't intentionally draw attention to himself unless he felt like he was forced to.
"He's a psycho," the boy spat out. "He's fucking insane and you're defending that creature? You're defending him after everything he's done? You like people like that? Then maybe you're as crazy as him. Maybe you aren't that sane after all."
Hermione did the only thing she seemed to be doing nowadays.
She reached over and slapped the boy straight across the cheek. She would've punched him, but she didn't want her hand stained with his blood. And she sure didn't want her knees going anywhere near his private parts.
The boy howled and fell over, clutching his face like it would fall off at any moment. He was clearly overreacting, but Hermione didn't stay to see what would happen afterwards. She quickly spun away and headed upstairs. There was someone she needed to talk to.
ஐ
He was sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. When she opened the door softly and let herself in, he glanced over at her. It was quick, but Hermione was sure she saw it; a hint of vulnerability and insecurity present in his eyes.
Of course, it was quickly wiped off and replaced with a look of indifference.
"Hi, Tom," she said as gently as she could, sitting down uninvited next to him on the bed. He nodded, but turned his head away so she couldn't see his face. She reached her hand out, but pulled it back; she wasn't sure how well he would respond to being touched.
They sit silently together, before Tom finally turned back to her. "Why are you up here?" he asked, his voice quiet but his eyes still burning intensely. "They should be celebrating downstairs right now. You should go join them."
"I don't think I'm invited anymore," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I kind of felt bad for you, so I slapped the guy who was making fun of you." She showed him her hand as proof, as if he could somehow see that she was telling the truth.
A small smirk graced his face, but then it was completely wiped clean. No traces of the Tom Riddle she knew was present. It was almost as if it was an imposter using his body. "You felt bad for me?"
Hermione didn't know how to respond to that. Tom was not usually the person who would like being pitied. She didn't think he wanted her to pity him, but she didn't think he'd like it if she lied. And he seemed to be exceptionally good at telling when she lied. She changed the subject. "Did you attack Dennis because he gave you competition for Amy?"
He chose not to answer her question either and instead shot her a questioning look. "You still remember Amy?"
"Of course I do," Hermione replied, slightly offended. Her memory wasn't that bad, after all. And it had been a rather memorable day; Tom had come back drunk and had actually decided to be open with her for once. "I remember everything you told me."
He looked strangely grateful at this, and Hermione wondered again if this was just an imposter of Tom. How could something like a mere muggle orphanage change his personality so much? Did the taunts really affect him that much?
As if reading her mind, Tom answered softly, "I don't usually react like that. It's just…" he trailed off. "I didn't want them to get you. I didn't want you to go with them." He clenched his fist, and his face has an angry scowl on it. That was more like the Tom she knew, except the words he was spouting surprised her. "I won't let them take you from me."
Without warning, he pulled her down so that her head lay on his lap. She twisted slightly so she could look at him, and saw the conflict of emotions in his eyes. It wasn't just her, she realized. Anyone from Hogwarts, even a Gryffindor, would've been sufficient. He just wanted a link to the wizard world. And here, in a muggle orphanage, he wasn't getting that.
She was going to have to have a serious talk with Dumbledore. No one, not Tom, not even Avery deserved something like this. Okay, maybe Avery did deserve it, and sometimes Tom really deserved it, but this was as bad as torturing physically, maybe even worse. They were undermining Tom's confidence.
Honestly, though, she thought that Tom's confidence was so high that it couldn't be undermined. It seemed as if she were wrong about a lot of things concerning Tom.
"I told you about Amy already," Tom said, returning to her previous question, his voice bitter. He reached to stroke her hair, and then seemed to think better of it and instead placed them awkwardly by his side. Hermione had seen him a lot of things, but never awkward. "She was in love with Dennis. She still would be, if she could still form a sentence. She just lies in bed and sprouts nonsense" He laughed, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement.
It rather scared her to see him like this. She never would've guessed that she would have to see him like this. She shivered slightly, and he looked down at her. She couldn't read his eyes, though. She wondered absentmindedly if she could one day.
"Did you love her?"
"No." Tom shook his head. "I told you already. She was a possession, and I don't like it when possessions are taken away from me. And I don't think I've ever loved anyone." Hermione wondered if he was drunk. He seemed to be extremely open with her right now, though she wasn't complaining.
"What about Tracey?"
Tom snorted and looked at her, his eyes pure and grey. "I don't even like her," Tom informed her, though a slight smile. "I can't stand her, actually. I just wanted to see how far you would go. I didn't think you would slap me, though."
"And punch you."
"And knee me."
All this talk was making Hermione strangely sentimental as well. "What about me?" she asked cautiously, observing Tom carefully. "Am I just a possession to you are well?"
"Everything is my possession," Tom said plainly, as if he were talking about the weather. Hermione supposed, though, that that was really how he saw everything. "And I don't love you, if that's what you're asking. I do enjoy your presence more than others, but I don't love you." He cast her a glance. "If you would like, I can recite some sentimental crap that I memorized."
Hermione shook her head. "Nah, I'm okay."
He smirked. "Good. Because I'd hate to lie." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he met her gaze head on. Well, if he truly believed that all the sentimental stuff was a lie when it came to her, then so be it. She was never a fan of sentimental love declarations anyway.
Hermione sighed. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" She had spent so much time fretting over this issue, so much effort thinking about this. "About me, about Tracey."
"Same reason I didn't push her away," Tom shrugged, and then smirked. Hermione groaned at the return of his ego, and the snarky response that he most definitely was about to say. "I have a prefect image to uphold. And I can't help that I'm so desirable."
"That's it. Your ego has returned." Hermione sat up, only to find that he was holding her down with his arm. "Let me up, Tom. I'm not lying in your lap anymore. It makes me feel…girly."
Tom frowned, but let her up. "What's wrong with feeling girly?" He looked at her. "You're a girl."
"Brilliant observation," Hermione commented dryly. "And I hate nail polish and hair braiding and giggling and everything else girls my age do for fun. I'm just not fit to be a girl. I'd probably be better off as a man."
"No, I am quite satisfied with your current gender," Tom chuckled, leaning back against the wall. His insecurity seemed to have vanished, but he wasn't back to his usual self either. This in between step, where he actually smiled instead of smirked, made Hermione quite happy. He looked at her hair. "Though, a couple of braids might do that justice."
Hermione swatted at him, which he easily dodged. She, however, allowed him to pull her back in to his embrace. She would be able to make fun of him later, for being a hopeless romantic, but for now, she was okay with just sitting in his arms.
"Why does Dumbledore still make you come here?" she asked after a couple minutes of silence. Tom immediately tensed up, but Hermione's curiosity override any sense of pity she felt for him. "Does he know about your living condition here?"
"He makes me come here because he hates me." Tom replied, clenching his jaw. "There's nothing about my living condition here. I get a bed and some shelter, which in his dictionary, symbolizes as being fortunate enough."
"I guess that's true," Hermione said softly. "Some people who have lost their parents end up living on the streets."
"I would prefer living on the streets to this," Tom snarled. It took him a while to compose himself again. "That's enough about me today. What about you? Why don't you share me some childhood story on how you and Porter fell in love at first sight?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "For your information, when Nick met me, he hated me." Tom raised his eyebrows. "He hated me worse than Cygnus hated me when he first met me. He actually tried to drown me."
"Drown you," Tom repeated in disbelief. "You sweet loving boyfriend tried to drown you."
"My sweet loving brother was only jealous," Hermione said. "Much like you are right now. He thought I got more attention from our father than he did. I thought the exact same about him."
"Did you punch him afterwards?" Tom smirked. "Knee him?"
"No, that's reserved only for you," Hermione informed him dryly. "After a couple of failed drowning attempts, we finally started to talk to each other civilly. This took quite a while, though. We spent approximately half a year trying to drown each other."
"And what made you stop?" Tom quirked an eyebrow. "Did you finally find your inner Gryffindor and decide that killing is morally wrong?"
"Killing is morally wrong, and Merlin, you're starting to sound like Black. No, I did not find my inner Gryffindor." She shuffled around slightly. "We just both figured out that our father wasn't as good as we thought him to be."
Tom looked at her, trying to read her, but as always, he couldn't. He opened his mouth, but Hermione shook her head. "Don't even, Tom. That's as far as you get with me today."
Tom sat back and opted instead for a happier topic. "I'm going to kill Dumbledore when I get back." He knew he was fibbing. He had years to swear he was going to murder the wacko Transfiguration teacher, though he never followed through with his plan.
Hermione, much to his surprise, laughed and agreed with him. "I'll come along," she said. "Maybe killing is a little too brutal, but someone has to talk to him about this. This is not right." She bit her lip.
"Are you defending me?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "Hermione Granger is trying to defend me. It's a historical day."
Hermione scowled at him. "Tom Riddle is found in a muggle orphanage." It was Tom's turn to glare at her. "I bet Rita would love to hear that story. It'd be all over the news."
"Don't be ridiculous," Tom chided in what sounded like Rita's voice. Hermione chuckled. "Rita hates you. She won't listen to anything you say. Everything you say is bogus to her."
"True," Hermione said. "I could always polyjuice as you, though. Imagine her face when the famous Tom Riddle approaches her and with big, juicy gossips about his tragic past. She would be down your throat in a couple seconds." She laughed at his horrified expression and held up a hair that she picked up from his robes without him noticing. "Look. Hair."
Tom grabbed for it, but she held it out of his grasp. He tackled her down so he was on top of her, though she still somehow managed to keep the hand away from him. She was laughing though, her petite body shaking underneath him.
It must've been the first time he smiled in the orphanage, he realized. The first time that he enjoyed being in the orphanage. Of course, his mood had nothing to do with the setting, but Tom couldn't help but grin down at the girl underneath him. He was acting horribly sentimental, he decided, and he needed to stop this before he ruined his reputation.
"You've been a naughty girl, Miss Granger," he breathed out, trying to reach for his hair. Unfortunately, she still managed to evade his grasp even when he had the advantage over her.
Hermione looked up at him, tilting her head to one side, trying to mimic a posture he did so often. "Does that mean we're okay again?" She asked softly. "Is everything about Tracey and Nick behind us?"
"It's your choice, Hermione," Tom drawled out, looking at her intently. "I'm here for the mere purpose of beating you in every class. It's your decision if you want to distract yourself even more."
Hermione swatted at him and laughed, accidently dropping his piece of hair off the bed. Neither of them paid it any notice. "Now that that's settled," she said, her face light. They would both regret being so romantic in the morning, but for now, nothing else mattered. "What was it about me being naughty?"
"You've been naughty, thinking you could get away from this," he shot her a wicked grin, one she enjoyed seeing on his face. It usually meant that he would be doing something she highly enjoyed. "You know what I do to naughty girls?"
"You let them beat you in class?" she supplied helpfully. "Preferably, ancient runes?"
Tom merely smirked. "I can do better," he said, and then bent down to kiss her.
Author's Note: I apologize for the major sappiness in this chapter for those of you who don't like sappy stories, but I thought we should see the two sides of Tom. The charming, handsome Tom that was present at Hogwarts, and the more insecure one back at his orphanage. Tom, despite what he seems like, isn't quite Voldemort just yet. A little part of him still yearns for love, which is present in the bottom half of this chapter.
And I seem to have developed a fetish with slapping/punching/kneeing from Hermione.
