Disclaimer in Chapter One
Author's note: so, I was rather fast with the next chapter. But don't think I'll make a habit of it ;)
I got some reviews asking if Hermione used wandless magic at the end of the last chapter. As cool as that would be, but no, it wasn't wandless magic. It was more like accidental magic, though a bit more on target than when it appears in children.
Thanks a lot to all you reviewers. Reading your feedback is really awesome!
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Chapter Six: Mine Enemy
Riddle's form crumbled down on the floor. Hastily, almost tripping over herself, Hermione scrambled up to her feet. Then she turned around and ran.
†
Hermione ran. Out of the tent. Away away. Into the woods. She never turned back. Never checked whether Riddle was following. She just ran. Her lungs burnt and her legs hurt, but she did not stop. Twigs scratched her face, roots threatened to make her fall, but she didn't slow down. Icy cold air assaulted every inch of her bare skin. Hermione didn't even notice. She ran.
How long she ran, she had no idea. It felt like miles and miles. Her breathing was laboured, her body protested against the exertion and she was forced to slow down. Still panting heavily Hermione walked through the forest, the urge to escape driving her on. The forest floor was layered with five inches of snow. Spruces surrounded her, their branches bowing under the weight of the snow. The weak winter sun was hanging low, casting long shadows. Hermione was only wearing her thin robes over the cheap cotton dress and now the cold slowly crept over her. Her shoes were no real barrier against the snow and were soaked in ice water. Hermione shivered miserably but she still walked on.
She couldn't apparate. Her capped red wand lay abandoned in the tent. The real wand was still stored away in Riddle's robe pocket. Hermione had no idea where she was and knew that by foot any settlement was days away. There was no getting away from this forest. Hermione was very much lost.
Lost… but…
It was so beautiful. The snow, the trees, the silence of the woods. It was so calm. Only the crunching of the snow under her shoes disturbed the peace. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, first hot on her skin then icy cold and frozen. Hermione took in a shuddered breath. It smelled good. She couldn't remember when she had last breathed so freely. She still walked on. And it was her decision. A soft sob broke from her mouth. Hermione raised her hand and wiped the new tears from her eyes. It was her decision! She could turn left or she could turn right. She could walk on or stop.
My decision. More tears rolled down her cheeks and a small smile lit up her face.
Hermione continued to walk for a very long time. Fat fluffy snowflakes were softly falling down on her. The sun disappeared and stars took its place, twinkling down at her. The white snow glowed bright in the moon light. In the dark it was even more beautiful. Otherworldly beautiful. Hermione had stopped shivering and didn't feel cold anymore. Her hands and feet had gone numb and she was beginning to feel tired.
She wasn't stupid. She knew what it meant. She was stranded here in the middle of a snow-covered forest wearing nothing but light clothing. Temperature was dropping since the sun had faded and it had started to snow again. There was no-where she could go and no-one would find her here. She knew what it meant…
…but it didn't matter. Her time was counting down but every breath she took felt liberating. This was wonderful and she felt free. Hermione smiled a small smile and stumbled on, her feet now heavy. Every step took a great effort. The spruces turned into oaks with massive trunks but Hermione continued on.
The tiredness scared her, the numbness scared her. It was only natural to be scared, she told herself as she felt her thoughts getting tangled up in a haze. Everything seemed to slow down.
Her feet dragged and with the next step she stumbled over a root. Her mind was not fast enough to comprehend what was happening and Hermione fell down in the snow. She was lying there for a few minutes. With an effort she rolled herself on her back. There was no cold seeping through the forest floor. There should be, but there wasn't. Hermione crawled to a nearby tree and propped her back up against its trunk. She tiredly leaned her head against the tree and stared at the scene in front of her. Ground covered in snow, pale moonlight illuminating everything and proud trees surrounding her. It could have been worse. A lot.
She had no regrets.
Her eyes were dropping. The snow disappeared and the trees. Everything was black.
She felt herself sliding down. It made her dizzy but not in a bad way.
Just tired.
So
tired…
.
.
.
.
.
Through the darkness, through the numbness something shook her. It made no sense to her. A jolt of electricity seared through her body. Hermione didn't want to come back. But the jolt was persistent and burned through her sluggish mind. Unwillingly, she was pulled out of her darkness. Her thoughts came back. Hermione struggled her eyes open. The trees were still there and the moon high up in the sky. A layer of white snow covered her. There it was again, a flash of pain searing through her. She had lost her connection to her body but now that pain pulled it back. It took Hermione some time to comprehend the pain and then more time to understand that it came from her left forearm.
No. Not that! Hermione felt her dark mark burn. No.
She had barely realized it as there was a soft popping sound. No! A pair of heavy boots now disturbed the layer of snow in her line of view. Hermione raised her head. Black trousers, a thick winter cloak and then she stared up at Riddle's pale face.
"No!" she wanted to scream, but her weak voice left her as a mere whisper.
His face expressionless, Riddle stared down at her with his steely eyes. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. This couldn't be! She forced her body to move. It didn't want to obey her. Still, she managed to push herself away from the tree trunk and fell to her side. Hermione struggled to get up, but failed. On her hands and knees she crawled away from him. He couldn't be here. He couldn't have found her. Her hands sank deep into the snow as she fought to drag her body away from him.
A pair of dark boots appeared in the corner of her eyes. Hermione wanted to scream in frustration as she realized Riddle had walked up to her. Only a soft whimper left her. Suddenly her arm gave way underneath her and she fell down in the snow. As much as she struggled, she couldn't get up again. Helplessly she lay in the snow and cursed her own bad luck.
Expecting a gruff hand or even a curse, Hermione's body tensed as suddenly a light weight fell down on her. It felt pleasantly warm and smelled good. Her confusion made her open her eyes and turn her head slightly. She found Riddle crouched beside her. That horribly emotionless look was still on his face but now he was missing his black cloak. Hermione's eyes locked with his blue ones. There was a strange look in them, she mused. But then her own eyes shut and finally her mind decided to lock down.
†
The girl had lost consciousness. Riddle extended a hesitant hand and cautiously skimmed his fingers over her cheek. It was icy cold. He pursed his lips in contemplation. Fury had driven him to hunt her down. His first impulse had been to find the Mudblood, to maim her, to make her bleed. He had wanted to cut her open, relishing in her pleas for mercy. Never granting any.
Now Riddle had caught his prey, but his anger strangely abandoned him.
His brow was furrowed in confusion as Riddle's hand slowly wandered to her shoulder. He turned her around so that she lay on her back. His gaze wandered over the Mudblood's body. Her lips were blue and her skin colour deathly pale. She was only wearing thin robes on top of that paltry dress. Riddle pulled his cloak tightly around her small body. His movements were slow and hesitant as one of his hands wandered to the back of her knees and the other arm snaked around her upper body. Then he lifted her up. She was incredibly light. Her body felt so frail as he pulled her against his chest. Riddle twirled on the spot and stepped into the dark pressure of apparition. Seconds later he reappeared standing right in front of the tent. Penny still pressed against him, he entered. He walked over to his bed and gingerly laid her down. Wrapped in his black cloak, she looked small and miserable.
Again a frown furrowed Riddle's brow. The absence of his previous rage was puzzling him. No. The girl was puzzling him. Had this Mudblood really managed to overcome his magic and had successfully attacked him? As he had wanted to send the Cruciatus Curse at her, an incredibly powerful flash of magic had hit him full force and had thrown him away.
Knocking him unconscious?
As much as Riddle wanted to deny it, the bump at the back of his head was a painful reminder. Penny, a filthyMudblood, had managed to beat him. Granted he hadn't expected any form of attack so hadn't been on the alert but it still was a great feat. How could a Mudblood be this powerful?
Impossible.
Riddle shook his head. It was impossible. A Mudblood's magic was only a weak shadow of the power that had accumulated over centuries in the old Pureblood lines. Everybody knew that Mudbloods were only good enough to serve Purebloods. They had no noteworthy magical skills and were too stupid to do more than simple menial work.
"Forgive me."
The foreign words slipped through Riddle's lips. That had been the inscription on Helena's coffin. 'Ignosce me.' Penny had been able to read and even translate it correctly into English. A stupid Mudblood indeed… Riddle stared down at the girl's pale face before he pulled her wand out of his robe pocket and-
Wait?
Her wand? Surely not. Riddle sneered down at her unconscious form. Then he examined the smooth wand. It didn't apply with his magic at all. The Mudblood had used it, though. Aresto momentum was no simple spell. So much for Penny's lack of magical skill… 'I found the wand by the coffin,' she had said. Helena's coffin, obviously. So Penny had the wand since they had been trapped inside the wards.
Ravenclaw's wards…
They had been a perfidious trap, fitting for a witch like Ravenclaw. How could he have forgotten about the wards? Riddle berated himself. The Diadem had demanded his whole attention, he had never wondered why Ravenclaw's wards had fallen. Who broke them down?
Riddle stared down at the Mudblood. That was impossible, wasn't it? Penny? How would she have been able to take down such powerful magic? A simple Mudblood could never have the powers or the knowledge to rival Rowena Ravenclaw's. No, there had to be a different explanation…
Riddle was brought out of his thoughts as Penny stirred slightly. The first sign of life since she had fallen unconscious in the forest. He put a hand down on her forehead. It still felt unnaturally cold. Riddle sat down on the edge of the bed. Slowly he pulled his cloak from Penny's body and continued to tentatively undress her. First the outer robes then he gingerly unbuttoned her white cotton dress. The fabric of the dress was coarse, ragged and just filthy. Riddle discarded it on the floor. He stared down at the girl in front of him. Her head had fallen to her side and her curly hair obscured her face. Slowly his gaze wandered over her body, clad in nothing but knickers and bra. Without her clothes her body looked even more scrawny. He could clearly see her hip bones and her ribs under her skin. Riddle extended a hand and gently laid it down on her concave stomach, then it wandered over her soft skin and up to her side. He could feel every single rip under his touch.
Penny stirred again and Riddle got ripped from his contemplation. He needed to warm her up. He swiftly pulled his wand and waved it. A thick blanket appeared out of thin air. He brandished his wand in a more complicated pattern and weaved a warming charm into the fabric. Riddle could feel the blanket slowly warming up with his magic as he wrapped it tightly around Penny's body.
She was sleeping.
His puzzle.
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As Hermione woke up she felt warm and comfortable. Still very tired she didn't open her eyes. Memories spooked through her head. She remembered how she had wandered through a forest. It had been so cold. And dark. She turned and rolled on her back, still with closed eyes. There was a warm blanket on top of her. What had happened? Maybe she had died. If so, death wasn't that bad.
"Penny?" a pleasant voice cut through her thoughts. "I know you are awake. Open your eyes."
Reluctantly, Hermione obeyed that voice. She cracked her eyes open and was blinded by the light. Her eyes watered and she blinked a few times. Slowly things swam into focus. She stared up at a grey ceiling. It was familiar. Her body froze in horror. It was the tent. She was back! More memories invaded her mind. She had leant against that tree in the middle of the forest as suddenly Riddle had appeared. She had tried to escape him but it had been futile. Icy cold the realization dawned on her. Riddle had caught her.
Hermione's eyes widened and she heard her own pulse hammering away in her ears. Then she turned her head. Riddle was sitting in one of the arm chairs not far from her. His legs were casually spread out in front of him and he eyed her curiously.
"M- Master Riddle," Hermione squealed, panicky, as she abruptly sat up in the bed.
The blanket slid off her, revealing her upper body. To her horror Hermione saw that she was wearing nothing but her underwear. Quickly she grabbed the blanket and pulled it up, covering herself. An amused smirk appeared on Riddle's face. More fear was boiling up in Hermione and she felt herself starting to tremble. What did he plan? He had undressed her, hadn't he? Hermione realized in shock that it was his bed she was lying in. Her stomach clenched in fear and she tried to get up from the bed.
"Slow down," Riddle said, amusement tinting his voice.
He got up from his seat and swiftly stepped over to her. Hermione was so weak she didn't manage to get up in time. Riddle pushed her back down on the bed.
"Lie down," he said commandingly.
Hearing the sharp edge in his voice, Hermione obeyed him and sank back in the bed. She looked up at him with fearful eyes. The smirk still danced around his mouth and he sat down beside her on the bed. She tensed as she felt him so close by.
"I- I'm sorry I cursed you," Hermione said hastily. "I didn't mean to do it. It just happened."
"I see," Riddle purred. Then he prompted, a nasty glint in his eyes, "No apology for insulting me?"
'Conceited prick!' Hermione remembered her words. She knew she needed to apologize – Instantly! – but her lips were stubbornly sealed. Riddle waited a moment. As no apology came a terrifying grin appeared on his face and he mused,
"Hm. Seems I need to punish you for your cheek."
Hermione shrank away from him. He raised his hand and she squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting the blow. It never came. Riddle chuckled softly and she cautiously re-opened her eyes. He had grabbed a strand of her hair and now lazily curled it around a finger while he still stared at her. His strange behaviour frightened her more than a slap would have. His hand let go of her hair and instead ran gently over her arm. With that a predatory glint appeared in his blue eyes. His fingers left her arm and softly danced over her collarbone. Hermione shuddered at his greedy touch.
"Please, don't," she choked out, scared by his intentions.
Smirk in place, Riddle bent down to her and she was hit by a wave of his scent. His face was uncomfortably close to hers and Hermione stared at him with wide scared eyes. The dark smirk never left him as Riddle drank in her fear. He bent even closer to her and Hermione could feel his lips softly skimming over her cheek as he moved them to her ear. A shudder ran down her spine, but she didn't dare to move.
"Whatever do you think I would do to you, little Mudblood?" Riddle whispered, faux indignation wrapped around his silky words.
Hermione trembled as she felt his hot breath against her skin. Riddle bent up and smugly took in her shaken state. Then he reached for the bedside table and retrieved a red potion bottle. He offered it to Hermione. All jest left his face as he ordered her sharply,
"Drink that."
Hermione didn't doubt his authority. She accepted the potion vial and downed its content. It tasted horribly of spoiled orange juice. Riddle took the now empty vial from her and pressed another one in her hand. Without objection Hermione drank the potion. This one didn't taste as bad and washed away the after-taste from the first one. Instantly pleasant warmth spread through her. Involuntarily her body relaxed even though Riddle was still nearby. The last thing she saw before her eyelids drooped was how Riddle waved his wand over her. The comfortable warmth intensified then Hermione drifted off to sleep.
†
Riddle watched as the strange creature fell asleep. He extended a hand to her and gingerly carded his fingers through her soft curly hair. Strange how she was skittish like a foal and then she could summon the strongest of magic. Interestedly Riddle scanned her sleeping face. It was relaxed, no hint of fear on her features anymore. He ran the pad of his thumb over her plump lips.
"Where does your power come from?" he mused as he eyed the girl.
All Mudbloods were weak, their magic useless. Riddle knew that. But how did Penny fit into that equation? Magic like hers, even if the vessel was defective, always was something to be treasured.
Riddle shook his head as he stared down at the girl. His gaze left her face and wandered to her left arm. The inner side of her forearm was on display and the dark mark was clearly visible on her pale skin. By a crude hand a huge 'M' had been tattooed into the skin, outlined by a circled of runes.
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As Hermione woke the next time, the tent was bathed in daylight which fell through the window. Obviously she had slept the whole night. Slowly she sat up in the bed. Her body didn't feel so weak anymore. Maybe it had been the potions or the sleep but she felt loads better. She heard clatter coming from the small kitchenette. A confused frown on her forehead, Hermione turned to see what was causing the noise. Her eyes widened in surprise as she spotted Riddle, standing with his back to her, obviously cooking something if that heavenly smell was anything to go by.
That was her job. Merlin, she had neglected her duties! Panic made her heart skip a few beats. First that incident from yesterday and now she had been sleeping in when she should have prepared the breakfast. Fear was spiralling even further and Hermione quickly sprang out of the bed. As she stood up her head began to swirl and she felt incredibly dizzy. On top of that she noticed that she was still wearing nothing but her underwear. Hermione staggered slightly as she turned in search of her dress.
"So you finally woke up?" a voice cut through her panic.
Hermione tensed and then looked over at the kitchenette. Riddle leaned nonchalantly against the counter, twirled his wand through his fingers and a feral smile played around his mouth. With unease Hermione noticed how his eyes left her face and lazily raked over her exposed body. She didn't move a muscle, not knowing what to do. Finally his incredibly blue eyes landed on her face again and she saw dark amusement dancing in them. Hermione was petrified with fear as she stared back at him.
"Well, what are you doing running around half-naked?" Riddle drawled. "Get dressed."
Hermione averted her eyes and had them downcast as she whispered meekly, "I- I can't find my clothes, Master Riddle."
She heard him chuckle at that. "Did you get blind on top of everything else? They're lying on the chair."
With that he turned away from her and resumed his cooking. Hermione still didn't move but her gaze wandered to the arm chair. A bundle of clothes was lying there. Casting another cautious glance at Riddle, she made sure that he was still ignoring her. Then ever so hesitantly she moved towards the chair. Hermione grabbed the clothes but instantly noticed they weren't hers. This wasn't her old cotton dress. Perplexed Hermione stared down a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and a thick woollen green pullover. These clothes looked suspiciously like the things Riddle normally wore but they clearly appeared to be cut to fit a woman's body. Now that she looked closer, Hermione could feel residues of magic lingering on the fabric. She didn't dare to address Riddle again so she just slipped into the clothes. They were tight and felt strange on her body. She hadn't been allowed to use anything but that baggy dress for years now. But somehow she liked the feeling of her new clothes and they were definitely warmer than her old ones.
Riddle was finished with cooking and now waved his wand at the cupboard. Plates and cutlery floated over to the small table and arranged themselves on top of it. In the meantime Riddle placed a pan with scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. Then he fetched a few slices of toast and a pot of tea. Hermione watched with growing unease that he set the table for two. Had Draco returned? She bit her lip fearfully at the prospect of him being back. Hermione stood as far away from Riddle as possible, trying to be inconspicuous. She felt slightly sick as she stood there. Her body hurt all over and she was feeling wobbly on her feet. Hermione's gaze wandered back to the table. Riddle had sat down and she stiffened as his blue eyes suddenly snapped at her.
"Come here," he ordered her sharply.
No other option left Hermione obediently walked over to him, staring at Riddle with wide eyes. His face was once again unreadable as he scanned her. She stood right beside the table and had her eyes downcast as she asked shyly,
"How can I help you?"
Ignoring her question, Riddle said, "Sit down."
Hermione's face snapped at him. He had an expectant eyebrow raised at her. Her gaze wandered to and fro between him and the empty chair opposite him.
She muttered, "I… I couldn't possibly-"
"Sit!" Riddle's commanding voice cut her off.
Hermione flinched at his tone of voice and immediately sat down on the chair. She didn't dare to look up at Riddle and instead stared down at her trembling hands in her lap. She heard him move, obviously filling his plate, but Hermione still didn't look up.
"Penny," Riddle said in his sharp voice.
Reluctantly Hermione raised her head. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw that the plate in front of her was filled with scrambled eggs, bacon and a piece of golden toast. She insecurely looked at Riddle. By now a mocking smirk was curling up his mouth. He was obviously very amused by her.
"Eat," he ordered her.
Hermione hesitated for a second. The scrambled eggs lay alluringly on the plate and Hermione realized how hungry she was. She threw another timid glance at Riddle. He poured himself a cup of tea and didn't pay her any attention as he began to eat. Hermione extended a trembling hand and picked up the fork. Then she ever so cautiously began to eat. It was delicious. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had eaten something other than cold left-overs. This was really good. She threw a furtive glance at Riddle but he still ignored her. How strange. She had actually expected him to punish her after the incident from yesterday. Instead he had helped her, had made breakfast and had even given her some food. Maybe this all was just a dream and she still leaned against that tree while slowly freezing to death. They ate in silence and she relished the taste of her food.
As Hermione was finished, Riddle put down his fork and scanned her. His steady gaze intimidated her and she dropped her eyes. A wave of Riddle's wand and the table was cleared, the dishes flying over to the kitchenette. Trepidation was mounting up in Hermione and she fearfully peered at Riddle. She stiffened in shock as she spotted a small book in his hand. Hermione's blood turned icy cold with fear as she recognized that book. Small, tattered, worn with use, that book was her most important possession. Her encyclopaedia of charms. With shock Hermione realized that she had put the book into her robe pocket to keep it safe. Riddle must have found it as he had removed her clothes from her yesterday.
"Can you explain to me where you got this from?" Riddle's frosty voice cut through her panic.
Hermione's brown eyes fearfully wandered to him. There was an impenetrable mask on Riddle's face as he scanned her, his eyes boring into her mercilessly. Quickly Hermione cast her eyes down and whispered shakily,
"I didn't steal it. I swear, Master Riddle."
"I never said you did," Riddle remarked coldly, unfazed by her fear.
Hermione had to shortly close her eyes to get her crazily pounding heart under control. Never raising her eyes at him, she said softly,
"I found the book in- in Diagon Alley. Some years ago. And I- I just kept it."
"Hm," made Riddle lightly.
Hermione swallowed, but then dared to look at him. He lazily flipped through the small book. Suddenly his startlingly blue eyes snapped at her and Hermione flinched. A smirk curled up Riddle's mouth and he inquired, faux innocence viciously warping his tone,
"I don't understand, Penny. Why would you keep a book like this?" He opened the book at random and read, "'Incarcerous: used to tie up enemies and render them immobile'."
Riddle's penetrating eyes landed on Hermione. He raised a questioning eyebrow and asked, his voice like soft silk with a sharp edge hidden underneath,
"A spell often used in duels. Why would a Mudblood like yourself keep such a book?"
Hermione stared at him. Her breathing was fast and she trembled under Riddle's scrutiny. As no answer came, Riddle snapped the book shut and leaned closer to her. Hermione shied a bit away from him. Slowly he raised a hand. His eyes never released her as he softly skimmed his fingers over her cheek. Hermione fearfully trembled under his touch. Dark amusement burned up in Riddle's cold eyes as he saw it. His fingers slowly wandered from her cheek down until his hand came to a halt lying on her shoulder, his thumb softly soothing over the skin of her neck. Hermione was sure he could feel her pulse racing away directly under her skin.
"It is pretty clear that, being a Mudblood-" Riddle said, smiling a dark smile. "-your magic is ridiculously weak. So tell me…"
His fingers on her shoulder tightened threateningly. Blue eyes pitilessly cut into her and the evil smile on his face grew, as Riddle whispered,
"What made you keep this book? Why did you pick up that wand yesterday? You can't read and you are unable to use proper spells, so why?"
His words were no different from what all wizards always threw at her. Hermione had got used to the debasement long ago. But then why were tears now brimming in her eyes? Something weighed down on her chest and tied up her throat. How could Riddle manage to unbury the sadness she kept locked away? Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She ripped her gaze away from those unforgiving blue orbs and cast her head down. As soon as she did that the hand on her shoulder painfully tightened its grip and Riddle hissed at her commandingly,
"Look at me!"
Quickly Hermione obeyed. Riddle grinned at her maliciously and repeated, "Why did you steal that wand? It is useless in your hands. Why do you waste your time and – even more importantly – that of your Masters with things you will never understand?"
Hermione shuddered as she stared into those deep blue eyes. There was sadistic pleasure burning in them, mocking her. Riddle's scorn shook her. She didn't understand why he affected her so strongly. With ease he ripped open old wounds. Caught up in a turmoil of emotions, Hermione opened her mouth and whispered,
"I can."
A dark shadow fell over Riddle's face and he asked, dangerously calm, "What was that?"
Hermione gritted her teeth as she looked at him. She needed to take back her rash words. Apologize, quickly! Instead of an apology words of defiance left her,
"I can understand magic."
Hermione had no idea what had gotten into her. First she insulted him yesterday and now she kept being insolent. Riddle would punish her now. She knew it and her body trembled fearfully at the prospect of the pain.
"I very much doubt you understand even the simplest of spells, Penny," Riddle said, voice laced with cruel mock. "Mudbloods are unable to comprehend magic like us Purebloods can."
Convinced that she would get a beating anyway, Hermione let her emotions get the better of her and snapped at Riddle,
"If I'm so stupid and my magic's so weak, then why could I curse you yesterday? Maybe you don't get the hang of magic!"
For a moment Riddle did not react. She thought she saw a glint of triumph in his blue eyes. But that couldn't be possible. It was gone in a second, leaving behind the usual emotionless mask. Hermione braced herself for the fury that would surely hit her. But then all Riddle said was,
"We'll discuss this another time."
Hermione blinked at him in surprise. She had expected a lot, but not this. Riddle said nothing more and stood up from the table. Seeing this, Hermione automatically shot up from her chair. She couldn't remain seated when he stood. As she sprang up a wave of dizziness hit her hard. She stumbled, trying to regain her balance. A hand grabbed her by her arm, preventing her from falling down.
"Easy," a soft voice whispered to her. "You've regained your sharp tongue, but you're still not completely well, are you?"
Hermione's head spun and she felt ill. Still, she managed to press out, "I'm fine."
"Sure," came the sarcastic reply.
She raised her head and looked up at Riddle. He held her by her arm and eyed her, his face a blank mask. Suddenly a strange greedy look seeped into his eyes as they wandered over her. It made Hermione shudder. She tensed as Riddle snaked an arm around her waist and led her over to his bed. Maybe he hadn't lashed out at her because he had a different punishment in mind? Hermione's breathing accelerated. Riddle wasn't going to touch her, was he? Panic grew in her. As they reached his bed Hermione was utterly afraid. She had heard stories about masters forcing themselves on their Mudbloods. That greedy look Riddle threw her way was more than unsettling. He removed his arm from her and pushed her down on the bed. Distraught by his actions Hermione started to tremble. Riddle raised an eyebrow as he saw the fear welling up in her eyes. He sighed and then said languidly,
"I'm not going to punish you for your snark, even though I probably should. So calm down."
He reached for the drawer of the bedside table and retrieved a potion vial. He pressed it into Hermione's hands and ordered her,
"Drink it."
Then he turned away and left her alone. Hermione's body relaxed as he stepped away from her. Riddle gracefully sat down on the sofa and started reading in his book. Reassured that he really seemed to leave her alone Hermione looked at the potion vial in her hand. She removed the stopper and as ordered drank. Warmth spread through her body and she snuggled comfortably into the soft blanket. Soon after she was swept away by a wave of tiredness.
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'And thus, while all the world may laud
The gifts of love and loyalty,
I lay my meed of gratitude
Before thy feet, mine enemy!'
Lucy Maud Montgomery
(*1874 †1942)