Disclaimer in chapter one
A/N: This time, I was faster with the new chapter ^o^ Don't get used to it, though lol Anyway, new chapter and this time with Tom's POV and more Hermione/Tom time. Because that's what this is all about ;)
To all you people who wait for an update of my other Tomione 'Bodyswitch': I'm on it. I promise. I didn't like the ending anymore, so there's lots to write and things to change. You'll have to be patient with me, but I haven't forgotten about the fic ^^
Big thank you to all reviewers for last chaper＼(^o^)／I didn't manage to reply to all of you via PM, but I read all the reviews and I'm happy you enjoyed last chapter. Thank you, you wonderful people!
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Chapter Thirty: Eat Your Cancer
If Tom hated anything, it were asinine school balls. Irritation already ripping at him, he adjusted his green tie and threw a last look in the mirror. Carefully, he brushed down the dark fabric of his coat. The suit he was wearing certainly was quite expensive, but it wasn't like he had paid for it. A crooked smirk crept on his face. He reached for the robe that hung over the back of a chair and slipped into it. It perfectly matched his suit and was embroidered by intricate silvery patterns at the lapels and the hems of the sleeves.
It was strange. This year Tom had been looking forward to the ball, but somehow he had lost the enthusiasm. Feeling disgruntled, he put his wand in the robe pocket and left the Heads' common room. He really had no desire to spend the evening penned up in a room full of pubescent idiots. Unfortunately, as Head Boy, he couldn't skip this event, especially not now that the whole school was watching his every step. He needed to present an impeccable mask so the rumours around him died down.
Tom sighed tiredly as he climbed down the Moving Staircase. It was too short a walk and he already reached the Great Hall. A contemptuous look wanted to slip on his face as Tom's gaze wandered over the hall. Enchanted lampions floated in the air, garlands were stretched over every surface and the hall was stuffed with people, chatting and laughing loudly, while irksome music droned on. With difficulty, Tom hid a dark scowl behind a fake smile. He had barely taken a few steps in as he was assaulted by Bellatrix Black. Dressed in a high-slit, tight ball gown, the girl looked devastatingly beautiful. Tom had no eyes for her beauty, though. He scowled down at her as Bellatrix leeched onto his arm.
"Toooom," she sung, ruthless smile twisting her full lips. "Where have you been? You're late."
The witch pouted while her eyes burned with a dangerous light as they blinked up at him. Tom arched an elegant eyebrow. He had no patience for dealing with the crazy girl.
"I wouldn't have come at all if I didn't have to," he informed her testily.
Bellatrix was not at all impressed by his foul mood. Instead she smirked up at him and needled, voice saccharine sweet,
"Wherever's your date, Tom? Don't tell me you of all people don't have a plus one."
"Why do you care?" he hissed, venom oozing from his voice.
The vicious streak melted from Bellatrix expression and she looked up at him with pure innocence. Smiling sweetly, she shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't know." Faux concern dripped from her words as she suggested, "Maybe you wouldn't feel so alone if you'd waited with the unveiling until after the ball."
The smirk on her lips mocked him and Tom gritted his teeth irately. He didn't hide the menacing edge in his stern voice as he snapped,
"Bellatrix, enough."
Confronted with Tom's anger, the scorn immediately left Bellatrix and she took a cautious step away from him. Warily, she peered at him. Tom glared at her and didn't bother to hold back his magic that now wrathfully wrenched at Bellatrix. She flinched and then mumbled sulkily,
"I was joking. Dear Merlin, Riddle. Don't take it out on me. It's not my fault you ruined your toy."
She stiltedly brushed down her elegant dress and readjusted her silvery necklace. "I'm going back to my own date. Find me when you're not feeling so murderous anymore." A sharp smile worked its way back on Bellatrix' face. "…or when your murderous urges are directed at someone that's not me. Maybe you should get yourself something to drink. Might loosen you up."
With that she floated away, obviously intending to enjoy herself tonight. Tom's eyes were narrowed into slits as they followed the witch. This whole evening was a waste of his time. Listlessly, he let his gaze roam over the room. A band had set up their instruments on the stage, their music only provoking a headache in Tom, while a few couples showed off their questionable dancing skills. Tom rolled his eyes as he took in the girls' voluminous dresses, some glittering unpleasantly in the spot lights, and the boys' ill-fitting suits. Their shrill laughs and ingratiating smiles got on his nerves.
Feeling thoroughly fed up by this spectacle, Tom considered Bellatrix' suggestion. She was right. He needed something to drink or he would start cursing those idiots. He charmed a fake but attractive smile on his face as he walked through the Great Hall, nodding a greeting here and there. At last, he spied a table with refreshments. There even were a few bottles of wine, Tom noted contently. Instantly, he made to walk over to the wine, but soon stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened and a flash of surprise shot through him.
Transfixed, he stared at the girl standing behind the buffet table. Hands busy pouring drinks, it was none other than Hermione. Tom struggled for composure. There was a stony look on Hermione's face as she poured drinks. She never looked up at anyone.
What is she doing here?!
Tom's shocked gaze travelled over her form. Hermione wore a shapeless, horribly ugly dress that hung from her slim frame. It instantly reminded him of the dress she had worn at Malfoy manor when he'd met her for the first time. Unbidden, Tom's thoughts jumped to the black dress he had bought her for this very ball. There was an odd twitch in his chest as he watched the girl.
Was she working at Hogwarts?
Hermione was pale and looked somehow ill. Tom furrowed his brow. He had thought she would finally leave him alone. He had got rid of her, so her treachery couldn't hurt him anymore. Now here she was like a ghost resurrected.
Tom could feel his magic pulsing through him, an angry confused mess. Careful not to draw attention to him, he slid to one of the small tables near-by. His gaze was fixed on Hermione as he sat. She hadn't seen him. Tom had dealt with the treacherous Mudblood. How dare Hermione continue tormenting him?
It was absolutely infuriating.
His magic, agitated and twitchy, wound around the bond that chained her to him. Only just, he managed to stop himself from tugging at the bond, commanding her to come closer. His anger flared dangerously and he glowered lethally at the girl. She still had her head bent, curly hair obscuring her face, and Tom was not relieved that she was still alive.
Ridiculous.
Temper peaking, he ripped his gaze away from her. Fiercely, he glared down at the arrangement of flowers on the table. He felt the urge to storm over to Hermione and grab her just to feel her reassuring presence. Tom growled furiously. His magic flared and the flowers caught fire.
Quickly, he smothered the fire with a blanket of his magic. Tom pressed his mouth into a thin line, still not looking at her. Why did this unsettle him so? It was confusing. Cautiously, he peered at Hermione. Once again, he was hit with the urge to go over there and touch her. Tom shook his head. Hermione was a danger to his plans. She had destroyed Slytherin's Locket.
It didn't stop him from wanting to reclaim her.
Tom angrily tugged at a cufflink of his shirt as he fought for calm. Maybe he was looking at this from the wrong angle? Hermione was his. Was it really so strange it would please him that his property was undamaged? The Mudblood, treacherous as she might be, still was very powerful, her magical talent an asset.
Pursing his lips, Tom let his eyes roam over the girl in question and a plan formed in his mind. Maybe this was a good thing. He may not be able to trust Hermione, but that didn't mean he had to relinquish ownership. This time, he would have to make sure that she obeyed him unconditionally. If Tom ensured Hermione's absolute subservience to him, there really was no reason why he shouldn't still use her.
.
It just wasn't fair. Hands shaking with pure anger, Ginny twisted the napkin into a ball as she stared at Hermione. The girl was forced to stand there, wearing a dress that frankly looked like a potato sack, and to pour drinks like a faceless servant. Ginny's temper boiled close to the point of eruption as she had to watch how a group of slimy Slytherin sixth years laughed at Hermione and pointed at her, malicious looks on their faces. Hermione never looked up from her work, probably too scared.
"We should do something," a deep voice whispered into Ginny's ear.
She unfixed her gaze from Hermione and looked up at her boyfriend. Dean's eyes smouldered with the same rage that she felt herself. Ginny reached for his hand and replied sadly,
"I don't know what we can do."
Dean's jaw tensed and he growled, "We pull her away from there. This is horrible."
Ginny nodded and her eyes wandered back to Hermione. The Slytherins now demanded Hermione to pour them glasses of wine. Vile smirks adorned their faces as the girl hastened to obey them.
"We can't," Ginny forced herself to say.
"What do you mean we can't," Dean huffed with righteous anger. "It's pretty straightforward. I'm gonna march over there, punch those assholes in the face and get her out of here."
Ginny bit the inner side of her cheek hard to stop herself from just cheering him on. Her heart gave a painful lurch as she saw how one of the Slytherin sixth years now snubbed at Hermione, obviously complaining about one silly thing or other. Hermione bowed submissively and quickly poured another glass. Ginny had to look away. She nestled against Dean and hid her face in his chest.
"I think Dean's got the right idea," another voice butted in.
A watery smile curled Ginny's lips as she looked up at her brother. Face purple with anger, Ron stared at her expectantly, almost hopefully, as if he waited for her go-ahead. Ginny hated to disappoint, but whispered shakily,
"We're gonna make it even worse for her if we do something rash."
Hearing the pain in her voice, Dean quickly draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled Ginny against him. Ron's hands balled into angry fists and he pressed out,
"Worse than this? Look at her. Look what they did to her!"
Ginny swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the tears welling up in her. There was no way she could look them in the eyes as she admitted,
"It's my fault."
Ron's eyes widened and he stammered, "W- what do you mean?"
Voice heavy, Ginny explained, "I went to see Dippet today. I wanted to… to make him take Hermione back as a student."
"You did?" Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You never told me."
"I shouldn't have gone," Ginny hissed, angry with herself. "I made everything worse. Dippet didn't even listen. He just went into a rant about how Hermione besmirched Hogwarts and everything it stands for. Then he gave me a detention with Carrow, so I can be reminded of," Ginny grinded her teeth. "the 'right order of things'."
She held to Dean's hand as she added compunctiously, "I think Dippet forced Hermione to work here tonight, because I meddled. He wants the whole school to see that she is getting punished."
Ron's eyes widened and his eyes wandered back to Hermione. "What do you mean?"
Ginny sighed. "Well, first he wants to make sure that people like us don't get any wrong ideas of Hermione's status." Ginny crinkled her nose in displeasure as she gestured at the Slytherins. "And secondly, he wants to appease those knobs so they don't run to their parents and tell them stories of how Muggleborns run free at Hogwarts."
Dean pressed his mouth into a thin line. "Damn. What an arse-crawler."
"So what?!" Ron blustered. "We don't do anything?"
Ginny looked up at the boys. Serious tint lacing her words, she said, "We can't. If we mess up, only one mistake," Her gaze slipped back to Hermione. "and she could die."
.
Hermione stood behind the buffet table with a polite smile pasted on her face. It was so fake, it hurt. Now and then people came by and she refilled their glasses or fetched them new ones. Hermione tried not to look too closely at them. She preferred them to be a blur of unrecognizable faces.
It didn't help, though. Hermione could feel the stares on her and hear them chatter about her. She was deeply ashamed. Why did she have to be the one to serve at the buffet table? Everybody could see her, point and laugh.
Feeling painfully hollow, Hermione glanced at the dance floor. They all looked so nice in their dresses and suits. Her face heated up in shame as she thought of her own hideous work dress. Hermione's eyes spotted her former roommate, Lavender Brown, on the dance floor. Her shiny hair was pinned up and she wore a beautiful pink dress which sparkled in the light attractively. A happy smile lingered on Lavender's face as her date slowly spun her over the dance floor. Parvati, not far away with her own date, grinned at her best friend.
Hermione's eyes dropped from the happy couples and she refilled a few more glasses with wine before she arranged them on the table so people had easy access. All the while, she could feel that constant ache inside of her. The polite smile was still pinned on her face, but she felt like bursting into tears.
Pull yourself together.
Hermione didn't even like dances or balls. All that dressing up and donning make-up was foreign to her. Surely, she would have felt out of place as a guest. Lavender and Parvati had probably dressed up in the dorm, giggling like crazy. Hermione couldn't relate to that. She would have felt uncomfortable. It was immature anyway. So inconsequential. So…
…normal.
Another stab hit Hermione and she felt her heart clench painfully. No. She certainly would have felt uncomfortable. She really didn't like balls anyway.
However much she tried to persuade herself, Hermione's gaze wandered longingly over the dancing couples. They were having a nice time, laughing and talking. Hermione quickly averted her eyes and filled another glass with wine.
"I want red," a brusque voice made her head shoot up.
Expectantly holding a glass out to Hermione, Bellatrix stood in front of the table. Her black silk dress hugged her curves beautifully while a haughty look touched her pretty face. Hermione bowed her head servilely, feeling inadequate and disgusted with herself.
"Of course, Mistress Black."
A smug smirk curved Bellatrix' red lips. Utterly embarrassed, Hermione obeyed and filled the witch's glass with red wine before handing it back. A cruel look crossed Bellatrix' face. Then she let the glass slip through her fingers. It crashed to the floor, spilling wine everywhere. Hermione's face flashed red with shame as many eyes were drawn to the commotion. Bellatrix coolly raised her eyebrows. Then she said, malice hidden under a layer of fake concern,
"Don't you want to get rid of that? Someone could hurt themselves."
Hermione bit the inner side of her cheek hard, fighting against a burning feeling in her eyes. Hastily, she pulled her red wand and waved it at the broken glass to vanish the mess. Unfortunately, a bit of the spilled wine was left behind.
Damn you, useless wand! Hermione cursed inwardly as she snatched a table napkin and bent to her knees. While she wiped the rest of the wine away, Hermione knew Bellatrix' was smirking down at her spitefully.
"Oh, Tom, there you are," Bellatrix simpered gleefully.
Hermione drew in a trembling breath of air, dread knotting her stomach. This was the last person she wanted to see. Tom Riddle. Hermione felt her body starting to tremble helplessly and a hollow feeling wound around her, crushing her.
Her heart clenched in her chest but she still raise her head. Kneeling on the floor, Hermione looked up at Tom who stood directly in front of her. Bellatrix stood beside him and watched the scene with morbid interest. In contrast to her glee, Tom's handsome features were completely expressionless. Hermione stared into his starkly blue eyes and she couldn't breathe. Her hand clenched around the napkin, crumbling it.
She was scared. So scared. Of him.
Tom.
He had destroyed her. Mercilessly, he had torn her apart and had left nothing but pain.
Hermione still stared at him, petrified. Tom looked incredibly handsome in his dark suit that emphasised his lithe form with serpentine grace. A few wavy locks of his black hair casually hung into his perfectly sculptured face. Cold as ice, his unfathomable eyes took in her kneeling form.
She had been so scared.
He had been the vengeful God of her new world.
It was as Hermione saw disdain fleeting through Tom's blue eyes, that her fear of him tilted. It collapsed into something new. It was the remorseless look on his face that sparked it off. A small flame infected Hermione. She had thought that seeing Tom after what he'd done to her would finally destroy her. Instead, that small flame rushed through her and under Tom's disdainful gaze it gained in size until it was a raging inferno, barely controllable. At that moment, if she'd had a wand, Hermione would have attacked Tom.
Never once breaking eye contact with him, she got up from the floor. How had she ever felt protected with him? Loved? Tom was empty, devoid of emotion and anything real. Now? Hermione only felt betrayed.
She was furious.
"What, Mudblood?" Bellatrix voice snapped meanly. "Don't you have work to do?"
"Yes, Mistress Black," Hermione replied quietly, her hard gaze never wavering from Tom's. "I do have work to do."
With that she turned away from him, without the customary bow.
.
Feeling a bit unbalanced, Tom let Bellatrix drag him away from the refreshment table. Of course he could have stopped her but strangely he was relieved to be away from Hermione's presence. Her reaction to him was… unexpected. Surprisingly belligerent. He didn't like it one bit. Tom felt his magic rage inside of him, furiously demanding to be set free. He had expected Hermione to finally know her place.
Bellatrix proceeded to pour words into Tom's ear, but he couldn't bring himself to listen. A nod now and then was all he offered. Tom noted with irritation that his eyes were still glued on Hermione. That look she had sent him, somehow he was still reeling from the shock. He had never seen her brown eyes so consumed by rage. Tom swallowed as he remembered that Hermione had not even looked at Bellatrix with the same amount of hate. She had reserved that look only for him. How dare she look at him like that?
†
As the ball stretched on, his anger completely consumed Tom. He would no longer accept Hermione's insolence. Not only would Tom reclaim her tonight. No, he also intended to once and for all teach the Mudblood her place. For his plans to unfold, he needed to be alone with her.
It was almost half past twelve as McGonagall finally broke up the party and shooed the last students to their respective common rooms. Tom didn't return to the Heads' chambers but hid in an empty classroom. He gave it another half an hour before he snuck back to the Great Hall.
Magic seething inside of him, he re-entered the hall. The music was turned off and the lights were on. The room was empty but for a few Mudbloods. They were busy cleaning up, mobbing the floor and re-arranging the four house tables. Quickly, Tom spotted Hermione among them. She pulled the garlands from the wall by hand. A swoop of anger hit Tom hard. Was she suddenly too stupid to use a wand?
Furiously, he stomped over to the girl. He had almost reached her as Hermione looked up from her work. Her plump lips thinned angrily as she recognized him and Tom was sent into another violent fit of temper. Slightly Hermione bowed her head and greeted glacially,
"Master."
Tom was surprised how she managed to make that word sound like the foulest of insults. Without answering, he harshly grabbed her by the arm and wrenched her with him. Some of the other Mudbloods stared at him, worry in their eyes, but they didn't try to stop him. Brutally, Tom pulled Hermione out of the Great Hall and didn't stop until he found privacy in one of Hogwarts' dark corridors.
Instantly, Tom rounded on the Mudblood and hissed, "What are you doing here, Hermione?"
Despite the unmistakable threat lacing his tone, the girl didn't shy away from him. Tom felt his temper rise a few notches.
"My job," was the brittle reply he got out of Hermione.
He took in a deep breath of air. It wouldn't do to just curse her. At least not yet. Voice tight with anger, Tom demanded to know,
"How did you manage to stay at Hogwarts?"
Hermione's eyes were sealed up and unreadable as she stared at him. Clearly displeased by his presence, she sneered,
"Why? Are you disappointed that the Snatchers didn't Crucio me to death?"
Tom's anger peaked as he felt a twinge of unease in his chest at this very possible scenario. He took a threatening step towards his rebellious Mudblood and snarled,
"I don't even care how you weaselled out of this. Don't think I'll let you get away so easily." He grabbed her arm and shook her. "From now on, you'll do exactly as I say."
Despite his sharp order, Hermione snorted deprecatingly, "Do as you say?! After everything you did to me, you have some nerve to even dare speak to me."
Tom couldn't believe his ears. She still insisted on her disobedience? Temper pushed to the boiling point, he threatened, "You better shut up now or I swear you'll regret it."
The mutinous glint didn't leave Hermione's eyes. She still dared to talk back to him, "You can't tell me what to do."
"Really?" Tom mocked cruelly.
Then he brutally pulled at the bond that chained Hermione to him. In satisfaction he watched as the girl hissed in pain and grabbed her left forearm where her Dark Mark was fully visible on her skin.
"To me it seems like you still belong to me."
Angry brown eyes glared up at him. Tom was taken aback by the fire burning in them. He had expected something else. Maybe fear? …surrender? Hermione wasn't begging for his forgiveness, though. All he got was her anger. Baring her teeth, the Mudblood growled,
"I'm not yours, Tom."
She raised her arm, showing the stretch of skin that was darkened by ink. Hermione skimmed her fingers over the Dark Mark and told him coldly,
"This means nothing to me. A bond of magic that was forced on me a long time ago. It holds no importance to me anymore." Her brown eyes snapped from the tattoo to Tom. "Just. Like. You."
Those three words cut deep. They stirred something in Tom, heavy and painful. He didn't like that feeling at all. How was it possible that Hermione's words still held sway over him? Tom balled his hands into tight fists. He was not going to back down. She was at his mercy.
"As I see it," Tom said, cruel smirk twisting his lips. "your opinion doesn't matter at all."
To emphasise his declaration, he again activated the bond between them and wrenched harshly. Hermione winced in pain, but otherwise didn't react. It was frustrating how her brown eyes still bored into him full of defiance.
"If this is how you thought of us the entire time, I'm glad you ended it." Hermione bit out. "At least now I know where I stand with you."
Tom's magic gave an angry budge in face of her defiance. She should be grovelling at his feet, not still standing up to him. Driven by a mad desire to see her composure falter, Tom took an abrupt step towards Hermione. He brutally pushed her backwards until her back collided with the hard stone wall of the corridor. Then he grabbed her wrists and forced them against the stone, effectively trapping Hermione between the wall and his own body.
"Nothing is over between us," he whispered into her ear, menace sharpening his words. "You still belong to me. Don't forget that."
Brown eyes fiercely glared up at him. Hermione squirmed in Tom's tight grip without any hope of breaking free and finally inquired heatedly, "Is this what you wanted the entire time? Me helpless? Me powerless to challenge you? Do you like me better this way?"
Tom didn't want to hear it anymore. Her ramblings meant nothing. Harshly, he tightened his hold on her wrists. The Mudblood needed to finally accept his dominance. Hermione belonged to him and Tom would accept nothing but absolute submissiveness from her.
Driven by a vengeful fire, he bent down to her and forcefully crashed his mouth against her lips in a brutal, claiming kiss. He could hear Hermione gasp softly in protest, but her objection was quickly muffled by his mouth on hers. Hungrily, Tom consumed her, running his tongue over her lips. Had he missed this? Hermione squirmed under him, but he never loosened his hold on her. Instead he sucked on her fat lower lip and bit down, hard.
Hermione tasted good, still the same, even if she now tried to push him away.
As he bent up again, Tom was fascinated by the sight of her now swollen lips. That was what he needed, wasn't it? Control. Control over Hermione and her body. As Tom finally managed to rip his eyes from her mouth, he found an unreadable expression on Hermione's face, only her nose was crinkled in distaste as she stared up at him. Tom was angered by her lack of reaction and that decidedly wrong set of emotions she displayed towards him. He pressed himself menacingly against hers and clarified,
"Make no mistake, Hermione. You, your body, belong to me."
Hermione's face remained to be stony. No words left her and she just stared up at him with her chin jutted out in defiance. A wave of anger hit Tom. If she wanted to have it the hard way, so it would be. He would have Hermione, one way or the other, and he would make it abundantly clear that everything she could offer was his to take.
Angrily, Tom bunched her wrists together and forced them against the wall over her head. His other hand travelled over her body, skimming over her curves, until it greedily pulled up her skirt. Hermione could not stop him, because she was a powerless Mudblood, as Tom forced her legs apart and moved in-between.
He pressed himself against her smaller frame and moaned as his groin rubbed against her, giving him the friction he hadn't even noticed he needed so desperately. Tom buried his face against the crook of her neck, hungrily nipping at her soft skin, working his way up until he could press his mouth against hers again. Hot desire built up in him and with his anger it formed an unbearable mixture. He had missed Hermione's body.
Lust clouding his mind, Tom allowed his roaming hand to pull demandingly at her knickers while he forced his tongue past her lips and plunged into her mouth. Hermione felt so good under his fingers, tasted so wonderful and made his senses swirl with raw desire. Finally, Tom got a grip on the hem of her knickers and a soft groan left him. He just wanted to wrench the offending piece of cloth off her delicious body as suddenly Hermione bit down hard on his tongue in her mouth. Her sharp teeth quickly broke skin and the pain, combined with the coppery taste of his own blood, managed to pull Tom back from his lust hazed endeavours.
He flinched away from her, even let go of her wrists and took a step back. Tom blinked in confusion. He had been so carried away, he needed a second to evaluate the situation. There was a hot liquid running from the corner of his mouth. Blood, Tom realized. Anger rushed back to him and he raised a hand, wiping the blood away. His eyes smouldered furiously as he looked at Hermione.
The girl was still pressed against the wall and now looked up at him with wide eyes as if she'd never seen him before. Then her shock bled into something that Tom had to describe as disgust. Indignation was wrapped around Hermione's voice as she snapped,
"What do you think you're doing?!"
Tom was furious. It was hard to pinpoint what angered him most but above all Hermione's rejection burned. The Mudblood belonged to Tom. How dare she bite him?! The disgust in her eyes told him that she hadn't even been tempted to return his kisses. He didn't want to examine what that meant, but allowed his anger to take over. Before Hermione could even think of running away, Tom again stepped into her personal space and grabbed her by her arms.
"Do you really think you could reject me?" he hissed at her, cruel inflection bending his tone.
Hermione's eyes had widened at his intrusion, but now narrowed into angry slits. As if to provoke him into action, she bared her teeth and snarled,
"I don't want you. I don't want you to touch me; I don't want you to talk to me. I don't want to ever see you again. I do not want you, Tom!"
Her words were meant to bite and they did, Tom had to grudgingly admit. His magic stormed around him furiously. The situation was slowly slipping from his control and he didn't appreciate that. Hermione glared up at him and tugged at the tight grip he still had on her arms.
"What do you plan to do now?" she growled furiously. "I don't want you anymore, so you just take it by force?"
Tom pressed his full body weight against her, cruelly pinning her against the corridor wall. His face was inches from hers. Scorn coated his tone as he hissed,
"You sound as if you wouldn't enjoy it."
At his cruel words, fear welled up in Hermione's pretty eyes. Tom felt at the same time triumphant and devastated. Despite her fear, though, Hermione didn't back down. Instead, she seemed to embrace the fear. She gazed back at him unwaveringly and her fear was accompanied by grim determination.
"I wouldn't," the girl stated, voice calm and controlled. "I would just despise you even more than I already do."
Tom pressed his mouth into a thin angry line. His hand tightened around her arms and he wrenched at her before he brutally slammed her against the wall. Hermione hissed in pain as the back of her head knocked into the stone wall, but gave no further reaction. Tom felt her warm body against his. She felt so delicate and small in his arms. Hermione didn't have a wand and no way to defend herself. Still, as she looked up at him her eyes were hard as steel.
"You are mine," Tom insisted threateningly.
His words, though, tasted hollow and empty on his tongue and Hermione remained to be unimpressed. He could feel her magic pushing against his own without any sign of surrender.
"Tom, I'm warning you," Hermione said firmly. "I know you don't want to hear it, but you're in the wrong here. And I'm done making excuses for your behaviour."
"I don't need your absolution," Tom sneered.
"Well, you don't have it either way," she clarified irately. "Maybe you never had anyone telling you this, so I'll do it now: What you're doing is wrong. How you treat me is wrong. How you treat other people like mere pawns is wrong. And what you're planning with those Horcruxes is wrong."
Hermione's eyes pierced into Tom and everything was slipping away. He suddenly felt the need to fidget under her unforgiving gaze. This infuriated him even more.
"It's not," he sneered and a wild smirk appeared on his face. "This is eternal life, Hermione. I deserve it."
"I pity everyone who deserves a fate like that."
Tom gritted his teeth but ignored her comment and sneered, "Are you really so blind to what I'm doing? My Horcruxes will be the greatest thing a wizard ever created."
"No," she said firmly. "They're a cancer eating you alive."
Tom opened his mouth to throw something in return, but was stopped abruptly as Hermione's magic collided with him. The force behind her attack made him release her and even stumble a step away.
"I don't even care anymore," she snarled at him, magic crackling around her. "You're screwed up, Tom. Your father was right all along. If you're so eager to sacrifice your soul, I don't care. Go ahead, destroy yourself."
She took a step towards Tom and he felt her powerful magic tugging at him, slicing over him. Hermione glared up at him and growled,
"But don't think I'll idly stand by as you kill innocent people."
Everything was slipping. But if Tom fell, he was going to pull her down with him. Rage burned hot inside him and infected his magic. Driven by the mad urge to retaliate, he reached for his wand.
.
Hermione's heart raced in her chest as she looked up at Tom and saw the anger distorting his handsome face. His already incensed magic was stifling in the air. Hermione banned all emotion from her face, hiding how terrified she truly was of the dark wizard. She could only watch as Tom pulled his wand. Hermione knew she couldn't defend herself against him. The red wand in her pocket was useless.
Despite the fear almost choking her, she stood tall. She was done running away from Tom and his wrath. Hermione balled her hands into fists, steeling herself for what was to come. Tom was disgusting. What he'd done… Hermione still felt shaken and the forced kiss lingered on her lips, prickling and burning unpleasantly.
Fury raged in Tom's beautiful blue eyes as he glared at her and Hermione knew she couldn't yield to that fury. If she did, she would lose everything. Regulus had been wrong. Hermione couldn't just accept her fate. If she did, if she gave up, there would be nothing left for her. Tom was wrong as well. She would never crawl back to him. With gritted teeth, Hermione watched as he raised his wand at her.
Before Tom could throw a curse at her, though, an angry voice rang through the corridor, "Hey! Leave her alone!"
Hermione startled and turned her head. Her eyes widened as she spotted Ginny. Fierce look on her face, the redhead stomped over to them. She even had her wand in hand.
"Step away from her!" Ginny snarled furiously.
Tom visibly struggled to put on the mask of the charming Head Boy. His wand lay still in his hand and a disturbing sheen sharpened his eyes.
"Ms Weasley," he bit out. "This doesn't concern you. Kindly leave us alone."
Anger was painted all over Ginny's pretty face. "Like hell I'll leave Hermione alone with you."
Hermione flinched as suddenly Ginny stepped closer to her and wrapped an arm around her. Quickly a soothing voice tried to calm her,
"It's okay, Hermione."
She stared at Ginny with wide eyes. Hermione's whole body was tense, but Ginny's closeness managed to comfort her. While the redhead held Hermione gingerly, the snarl on her face had only grown darker and she glared at Tom.
"What the fuck are you doing?!"
By now Tom had managed to compose himself. The calm façade was a frightening abomination.
"What I'm doing is none of your business," Tom said and there was something terrifying hidden in his smooth voice.
"It is," Ginny sniped. "when you attack my friend."
An unsavoury smirk twisted Tom's lips. Gesturing at Hermione, he sneered, "You're wasting your time defending something like this. It's just a Mudblood."
The cruelty of his words mercilessly cut into Hermione. She sucked in a sharp breath of air, tears springing to her eyes. Feeling her flinch under Tom's words, Ginny tightened her grip on Hermione.
"You've already taken everything from her," Ginny growled at him. "Is it so much fun harassing someone who can't fight back?"
The nasty sneer didn't drop from Tom's face and Ginny shook her head at him, repulsed.
"You should be fucking ashamed of yourself," she told him icily. "She was your girlfriend! Merlin's sake!"
Tom's emotionless eyes left Ginny. Slowly his gaze skimmed over Hermione until he locked eyes with her. The demeaning smirk still hung from his lips as he stated cruelly,
"She never was my girlfriend."
Hermione felt tears choking her but she stoically stared back at him, hiding her every emotion. Without waiting for any reply, Tom threw a last derogatory look at Ginny before he turned around and walked away. The redhead watched him, anger still twisting her face.
"What an asshole."
Hermione had lowered her gaze and stared down at the floor. Her eyes burned and she felt shaky on her feet. Ginny's warm arm was still wrapped around her and she was incredibly grateful for that.
"Thank you."
"Pff, you don't have to thank me for that," Ginny replied. "Riddle's a creep."
"Still," Hermione smiled at her friend. "thank you."
Ginny smiled back at her. Then a frown started to furrow her brow. Cautiously, she asked, "Riddle knew, didn't he?"
Hermione gulped nervously. "W- what do you mean?"
"He didn't just find out about you being Muggleborn," Ginny insisted, anger returning to her. "He knew all along."
Hermione fidgeted with a lock of her curly hair, but didn't dare look at Ginny. Surprisingly, the Pureblood didn't press her for a reply. Hermione breathed in deeply. She shouldn't tell Ginny anything. It was too dangerous. Still, somehow she felt the need to confide in someone.
"Tom…" Hermione stuttered and fearfully glanced at Ginny. "He's… he's my Master."
Ginny's eyes grew wide as she heard it. Next there was disgust crossing the redhead's pretty features. Hermione sniffed as she saw it and bowed her head. Was Ginny finally revolted by her? Despite Hermione's dark thoughts, Ginny stepped closer and again enveloped her in a tight hug.
"That bastard," the Gryffindor breathed, anger bending her tone. "So, was that all a façade? You being his girlfriend? Did he force you to do that?"
Hermione shrugged, feeling raw pain burning up in her.
"At first it was just a lie," she replied meekly. "Then he really was my boyfriend. At least, that's what I thought. Now I'm not so sure anymore…"
{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}
'I've been locked inside your heart-shaped box for weeks,
I've been drawn into your magnet tar pit trap,
I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black.'
- Kurt Cobain (* 1967 † 1994)