My special thanks ALIASTESIN , CCBPotter ,Guest , Ladycrafter , Joe ,Charleneclark1988 ,beccasullivanwrites1 , Guest,crazyKate92 ,Black Banshee ,HpMarrzi,1Deivle,KyloRen'sgirl213 ,Jun, Infernalbooks , Merih, bananapipie , Evilhyperpixie13 , mymi092 , Noone121212for showing me your kindness in reviews.
And to all the others who favored.
I really want to thank you for every comment I received. All the words were beautiful, giving me all the support and kindness, and made me realize that this is really a hobby, but now, it makes me want to write for people like you. I now feel compelled to write, not because of pressure, but because I feel happy. And I think the world would really be better if there were more people like you.
Thank you very much, from the bottom of my heart I thank you guys.
Thanks for 105 review, 261 Followers and 145 Favorites. I'm so happy!
English is not my mother tongue, so I hope you understand if there is an error in the text. Let me know so I can fix it.
I love you guys!
Chapter 11. Dispholidus - The cabin from hell.
Tom was looking at her a few times. Looking at her from under his lashes, the green iris seemed to shine in the light that came from the entrance to the tent and touched his face. He looked at her again, this time taking longer, taking every detail he could.
Her figure was against the light, the edge of her shape shining in the sun, her hair turning a strange shade of brown and honey, her cheeks pink from the sun and the few freckles on the tip of her nose. Her lips were also pink and not makeup, Granger looked like a girl who really wore little makeup and only dared when necessary. It was the sun that gave her a healthy look and color. She had considerably long straight lashes and deep, almost, feline eyes with the color that could turn caramel when the light reflected off them or as dark as the brown of a tree trunk in the absence.
Why did he notice all this? Because he thought she was beautiful and he didn't know how much or if it affected him. Tom is not taking it too seriously, he can consider what he thinks is beautiful or ugly, which appeals to him, however, he is good to ignore if it does not benefit him. He just thinks that she has a beauty that can be considered very common and quite different from the sophisticated standard of beauty that frequents House Slytherin.
Granger was in an armchair, her legs were tucked aside, while she rested her chin against her fisted hand with her elbow resting on the armrest. A Muggle book was on her lap and she was concentrating on reading. Her hair was tied up in a side ponytail with a few loose strands. Such uncontrollable hair, he thought.
Tom put the book he was reading aside and got up from the couch, putting his hands in his pants pocket.
"We need to go back to the Orphanage to get my things. We will be returning to Hogwarts soon." He spoke, his face expressionless.
Hermione paid attention to what he was saying. His tone of voice was demanded, a kind of order and his face was a stoic mask, without showing whether or not he had expectations. It was only then that Hermione understood a little more about him. He needs his bag for when he goes to Hogwarts, that bag is in the Orphanage - obviously - andy he doesn't know how to Apparate. That is, he needs her help. The way he spoke was nothing more than him trying to corner her in a way that he didn't need to ask for something. It's like he doesn't know how to ask or if he knows how to do it, it's not something he does with people who know what his real 'self' is like.
It definitely looks like a spoiled child, something very petulant indeed. The situation would be comical if it were not tragic. However, Hermione expects nothing less from him.
"Okay." She replies, watching his expression become serene.
She didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, because it is never decisive when it comes to him. However, she considers them to be on "good terms". No, no, good terms are too much. Perhaps the right words are 'living together peacefully for now'. This is more appropriate.
She doesn't know how far this peace between them will go and she is 100% sure that they will conflict again, she just hopes that this time of peace will be long enough for her and Harry to leave without causing much confusion. Hermione also asks herself several times whether young Riddle will meet Harry and, if so, how he will act. She already has a sense of how Harry will behave, but as Riddle, he can be a box of surprises - many of them are unpleasant. She also wonders if this possible encounter between the two will fuel the Young Dark Lord's obsession.
"I'll get ready so I can take you." She continued, walking past him and heading towards her room. Hermione saw the slight wrinkle on his forehead with her last words. He is certainly proud.
Tom waited very little for her, when she returned, she was wearing a khaki goddess skirt and white shirt with sleeves that ended at the wrist, her hair was loose and with a considerable patterned style in the only way she could, with a few strands to the right side is held by a hairpin.
"Should we go?" Granger asked, extending his hand to him.
He rolled his eyes and took her hand.
"Hold on tight," she ordered.
"More than that?" Tom frowned. He really wasn't holding her hand tightly, it felt weird to do something like that.
"You don't want to be apart from me while we're Apparating. I can say with one hundred percent certainty. "Hermione explained and felt his grip on her hand. "There!" She let her lips escape. "It is not to break my fingers."
"You are the one who said to hold on tight."
"You did it on purpose."
He shrugged and loosened his grip a little. They disapparated in that alley that was known to Hermione and familiar to Tom, for different reasons, they knew that place so close to the Wool Orphanage. Tom knew because he always lived there and Hermione ... well, Hermione knew because she came here a few times, all these times with a clear intention of destroying Tom Riddle also known as the Dark Lord, Voldemort. This young boy that she was willingly bringing to pick up his things at the Orphanage. Holy irony .
When Tom felt that his feet were on the ground and the magic leaving him, he exhaled. Hermione looked at him out of the corner of her eye, watching what she considered an almost genuine smile from him. That almost smile was so little and almost nonexistent, that if she hadn't put together the puzzle that was his expression, she could have sworn that smile was never there. The pupils a little dilated, the eyebrows a little raised, the breathing a little fast and heavy and that strange flush on Tom Riddle's pale face. Adrenaline. He liked the feeling of adrenaline.
It was the first time Tom had Apparated, she mean - the first time he had Apparated consciously. He still didn't know how to do such magic by himself and if he had any idea how to do it - which she is sure he does - Tom was hesitant to practice. He didn't want to risk a splinching- something that Hermione very much doubts would happen to him. Let's face it, everyone knows that he was good at doing any spell and she is sure that in the first Apparition class, he will get his License.
She was caught looking at him and he looked back, looking at her curiously.
"Shall we go?" He asked, removing the grip he had on her hand. Hermione nodded and followed the path beside him.
When they arrived at the Orphanage, Tom opened the iron gate and gestured for her to pass first. She didn't know if it was an act because they were in public or if he was really kind and that could be a cruel question. Then, he did the same thing with the big heavy wooden door, gesturing for her to walk ahead.
Hermione's shoes made a noise as she stepped on the wooden floor and looked around curiously, trying to find similarities with the Orphanage of her time. Although it was clean, this was a dark and depressing place. It had dark colored furniture and was not very cheerful, it didn't look like a place for children. Even the lamps didn't seem to light enough. It was a sad place, was in the aurea of this Orphanage. Hermione did not imagine that places like an orphanage would be happy, only the name already incubated empathy and even pity in a person, places like that always have histories, but at Wool it was different. Very different.
She stopped and looked back, seeing Riddle standing at the door with his hands in his pocket, looking around like her. Hermione noticed the slight wrinkling of his nose, it was disgust and contempt in his expression. He hates this place , she realized. And he is probably right .
He walked over to her with a serious, hard expression. Mrs. Cole was coming from the main hall, her shoes making a constant noise, something that sounded like ' tack, tack, tack, tack'. She was wearing a burgundy dress that went a little below the knees and with long sleeves. There was a gold brooch pinned to the silk ruffled collar of her dress. The pale blond hair was tied in a perfect bun style of the time.
Hermione improved her posture and looked at Mrs. Cole calmly when she finally stopped in front of them.
"Riddle." Her voice was stern when she addressed Tom and Hermione swallowed, remaining still. "Where have you been all these days?" She continued.
"You gave me permission to spend the vacation with my schoolmate." Tom replied calmly, this time gesturing to Hermione, as if introducing her.
It was the first time that Mrs. Cole looked at Hermione, frowning.
"Don't you remember?" Tom spoke, approaching Mrs. Cole. Hermione felt the environment around her cool with magic that didn't come from her. She looked at Tom, who approached Mrs. Cole, looking intently at her. "Allow me to make you remember."
Mrs. Cole was caught in Tom Riddle's gaze like a deer blinded by light, her eyes widening, her eyebrows fluttering as she tried futilely to fight mental invasion and her mouth hanging down a little. Hermione tried to understand what he was doing.
Legilimens? Was he reading her mind and infiltrating false memories? Confundus? Was he creating confusion in her mind?
Or was it a strange mixture of the two spells?
"You remember." Tom said in a tone of voice that it was not a question, it was a statement.
"Of course, Riddle. I remember." She smiled. Mrs. Cole's expression softened in strange happiness and calm.
"Great." Tom Riddle smiled with satisfaction. "Now walk back to the office and stay there." He gestured like a nobleman, shooing Mrs. Cole away as if she were a chicken and she obeyed.
That was Imperius ... The realization shocked Hermione and she looked at him in astonishment. He had just done the curse Imperius without a wand in front of her and without any effort.
When Tom looked back at her, he smiled arrogantly and purposefully slowly, made the sign of silence to her. This was another little secret between them. The first of many.
Tom approached Hermione, she took his arm, looking alarmed.
"Did you just put her under a curse?" Hermione whispered, scolding him.
He looked at the hand holding his arm and raised an eyebrow suggestively at her, when Hermione noticed, she quickly removed her hand. Tom sighed and with an index finger, undid the light wrinkle on her forehead, forcing Hermione's expression to relax.
"Keep calm." He rolled his eyes. "At least she'll be happy for the rest of the day or until I decide to end the spell. Telling her to stay in the office is better than doing what I always wanted to do with her and Mr. Wool. Trust me." He advised her.
Hermione retracts when she hears his words, they are a warning, an advice. He could do something worse and she understood it so much that it filled her with fear. Reluctantly, she agreed.
"Very well." Hermione took a deep breath, trying to control her tone. She needs to look like she still has control of the situation. Tom nodded.
"Let's go." Tom nodded for Hermione to follow him upstairs.
"She can't go up to the boys' dorm, Riddle. Rules."
The boy's voice caught Hermione and Tom's attention. Tom's expression darkened when he took his gaze to the boy leaning against the hall wall. Hermione looked closely at the boy.
He had dark blond hair, pale blue eyes, with a lot of freckles on his 'potato' nose and cheeks, he was Riddle's height, with broad shoulders and could be considered muscular for his age. He wore a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow and pants with suspenders.
That was Billy Stubbs.
"Don't get involved." Riddle almost growled.
"Billy, what's going on?" The girl who was accompanying Billy asked. Her curly hair was tied by a ribbon, the girl's brown eyes looked at Tom, before she looked down quickly.
"The girl with Riddle is a weirdo just like him. She attends the same school. "
Amy Benson looked at Hermione and wrinkled her forehead. Hermione watched Riddle's hand fist clench.
"We are not weird." Tom snarled at Billy.
"Ah, yeah, what is the term that Mrs. Cole uses? A school for the 'gifted'. Hm ... I know ... It's just a fancy word to say that you are mad." Billy laughed.
This time it was Hermione who spoke, irritated by Billy Stubbs' offense. As a child, Hermione was already called similar things.
"Forgive us if you don't have the necessary skills to attend the same school as us."
Billy narrowed his eyes in anger at Hermione. Tom stepped forward and Billy retracted. Whatever expression Billy saw in Tom, it stopped him. He went pale with fear. Amy held Billy's suspenders, also in fear.
"Come on, Billy." She murmured to him. He locked his jaw, looking scared and angry, but unable to face Tom. He just nodded to Amy and they both passed Tom and Hermione.
"Aberration." He murmured very quietly as he passed Tom, who followed him with an cold gaze.
Tom and Hermione stood in the hall of the orphanage in silence. Tom was the first to move, he stopped momentarily, looking at Hermione over his shoulder.
"What are you waiting for?" He asked.
Great, he was already pissed. There is nothing better than the angry Young Dark Lord. Hermione wondered if it really was a good idea to bring Tom here. She followed him, gathering all the patience she could, because apparently this place managed to expose the worst of Tom Riddle's personality.
They were walking down the hall to the dorms, when in the distance Hermione saw a woman cradling something in her arms. A small unmistakable noise came from the pile of fabrics. It was a baby. The woman was lulling a baby, absently singing to him. As soon as she saw Tom and Hermione, she got scared and brought the baby against her chest, hugging him protectively.
Martha was frightened by Tom Riddle's presence. She was a nurse at the Orphanage, she helped deliver the boy she now feared and remembers to this day how he was a baby and a strange child. He never cried, not even when he came into the world. He never got sick, not even when everyone had chicken pox . She doesn't remember seeing Riddle have a cold.
"R-Riddle." She spoke, her voice breaking for a moment.
Tom passed without even trying to recognize her, but Hermione stopped for a moment, looking at the newborn baby in the woman's arms.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, looking at the baby with a skin tone very similar to the color of caramel, with pink cheeks and a small heart-shaped mouth. Hermione's expression soon softened.
The woman, Martha, looked at Hermione for a moment, not recognizing her from anywhere.
"He was abandoned at our door two days ago." Martha explained. "Poor thing, he was very hungry."
"Does he have a name?" Hermione asked, gently touching the baby's small tuft of curly hair.
"They haven't given him a name yet. But I call him George. "
It was at that moment that Tom came into Martha's field of vision again, she fought the urge to protect the baby, she did not trust that boy and thought that Riddle's punishment was valid. How much contradiction in one person.
However, Riddle made no move to approach her or the baby, he was just curious about the child's appearance. Hermione watched Tom's expression with interest, but he looked stoic and just raised an eyebrow at the baby in Martha's arms.
"Come on, Granger." He called her and turned to the 27th dorm again. Hermione looked at the child once more before following Tom.
Martha wanted to get Riddle's attention about having a girl in his dorm, however, she fell silent and was content with the distance between her and him. That boy could give her the creeps if he wanted to.
Tom made no chivalry ceremony for Hermione when he entered his room. Hermione gathered her hands against her chest, looking around and shivering with cold. How was it possible that in the middle of the summer, the room could be so cold?
The room, like the whole Orphanage, did not convey any joy. Gray-painted walls, an iron bed, a wooden wardrobe and a small table with a chair. That was all that Tom Riddle had and that still didn't belong to him. There was a lonely window that overlooked the street, the only distraction for an extremely intelligent and skilled child. That was a part of the boy's childhood that was in front of her.
Hermione sat up, the spring of the bed creaked under her weight, as if it was already very worn. She was silent, watching Tom open the wardrobe to grab the trunk.
"Don't worry about the baby, Granger." Tom said. "He is going to be adopted. Babies are always adopted. "
Whether he was trying to reassure her or mock the situation, she couldn't say.
"You were not adopted." She stated.
Tom stopped the second he heard Granger's words. The room was quiet, the Orphanage looked dead, the only thing that seemed to move was the dust particles through the light coming from the window. Hermione wished to take her words back at once. You didn't have to be smart to understand that she 'threw shit at the fan'. The suspense in the room got worse when she noticed Tom locking his jaw. The only sound in the room was the sound of the fabric of his clothing as he moved slowly. He snorted in disbelief and looked at her.
"No, I was not adopted." Tom confirmed.
Hermione didn't know if it was safe to look at him, but the sound of his shoes as he walked towards her, aroused her curiosity and she was unable to avoid looking at him. Her eyebrows fluttered, trying to form an expression.
"I am the antichrist , according to , remember?" He laughed grudgingly, making her remember the words the lame old man said to Tom as he whipped him.
"Are you trying to tell me that he prevented you from being adopted?" Hermione asked, trying to digest the information.
" I'm saving families, that's what I grew up listening to." He shrugged, indifferent.
Hermione looked down in a thoughtful and emotional way. Is the whole future obscure because Tom Riddle was never adopted? All because of a man who didn't understand the differences? Because was Tom denied the chance to know what a family is? Are these the factors that contributed to the formation of the Dark Lord? Muggle hatred?
"I-I ... I'm sorry." Hermione said in a choked voice.
It seemed to be the wrong words. Tom's expression darkened, his mouth turned into a line, while he locked his jaw and looked angrily.
"I don't want your pity."
"I ... I ..." She didn't know what to say. Hermione stood up, undecided.
" Get out." He ordered. "I changed my mind. Go away."
She retracted, looked at him for a second and turned away, leaving room 27, leaving Tom Riddle alone in his room at the orphanage. Tom heard the sound of her shoes as she left. He rested his hands on the small wooden table and looked out the window at the busy street.
"Shit." Tom exhaled and turned sharply, taking the trunk from the closet and going after Hermione.
Hermione stopped in the entrance hall, taking a deep breath, looking up the stairs.
"Are you okay, miss?"
Hermione started in surprise when she heard the male voice, a boy was coming to her aid.
"I'm Eric Whalley, miss." He held out his hand to her. "Nice to meet you."
"Hermione. Hermione Granger." She shook his hand in greeting.
Eric Whalley had brown hair hidden by the male beret he wore. The white dress shirt and gray trousers with suspenders appeared to be the men's uniform for the young boys at the Orphanage.
"I'm sorry for the intrusion, but aren't you too young to adopt a child?" He asked. Hermione paused for a moment, confused by his question, but understanding soon came to her.
"Oh, no, no, no. I'm not here to adopt ..." She raised both hands in a negative gesture. "I'm here ..."
"She's with me, Whalley." Tom Riddle's voice overlapped Hermione Granger's. He was walking down the stairs calmly, holding the trunk with one hand, as if he hadn't run. He would never tell her that he ran to go with her.
Eric took a step back and swallowed.
"You changed your mind very quickly." Hermione murmured when Riddle was close to her.
"We talk about this later." He explained to her.
"Is that true, miss?" Whalley asked. Although he was afraid of Riddle, Whalley was cordial and could never leave a lady he thinks is helpless.
Tom narrowed his eyes at Eric's insinuation,. Irritated, Tom addressed Hermione.
"Let's go, Granger. He's not like us. "
Hermione was about to refute when more people came and stood behind Eric Whalley. Amy Benson, Billy Stubbs, a few other orphans and even Martha. Amy Benson whispered something in Eric's ear, which brought an accomplishment to him that was transmitted in his eyes.
The gaze of each of these people was the same, it was strange. It was like being judged. They were curious looks and yet they conveyed a kind of fear and disgust, a strange kind of discrimination.
Tom took Hermione's arm and shot everyone a look of anger and contempt.
They are not like me. They are not like us.
With that thought he took Hermione outside, holding his trunk with the other hand.
o0o
"Well, can you tell me what was that about?" Hermione questioned him, crossing her arms under her breasts.
They were sharing a table near the window, away from the other tables, in a sort of cafeteria.
"Muggles are strangers." He shrugged, gesturing for her to give him the newspaper that had on the first page: Soviet forces conquer Kursk . He didn't want to talk about what happened at the Orphanage, dealing with it as if it were nothing. Deliberately ignoring Granger's questions.
"I am not talking about them, although we will talk about them at a time that I consider to be very close, I am talking about you."
It is at that moment that they are served with tea, cookies and bread rolls, something that was considered a luxury, due to the rationing of food, but mainly because in the eyes of others, they were a young couple who could afford that expense.
Tom smiles at the waitress who deliberately takes time to serve just so she can admire him timidly. When she walks away, she is so dazzled by his smile that the poor thing she didn't see that as soon as she walked away, Tom rolled his eyes and his expression became serious.
He pretends to be reading the newspaper just to ignore Hermione. She narrows her eyes at him.
"Hello! I'm talking to you."
Tom exhaled, lowering the newspaper and placing it on the table. He stopped for a moment and then looked at her.
"I hate that look of pity you gave me. You told me that compassion and pity are different things and I tell you that if you give me that look of pity again, I'm going to shove that newspaper down your throat. "
Hermione looked at him indignantly. See? This is what happens when you help the Dark discover what his personality is like and as soon as he knows that you know, he puts his wings out. Great.
She knew that he was not really threatening her ,because she already knows what it's like to be threatened by him and is sure that is not a threat. He is just irritated, exasperated by the situation. However, she reproaches his action by slapping the table.
Taking a deep breath, she says:
"Okay, I understand. I just thought it was wrong that he deprived you of being adopted. "
"Get over it." He said, picking up the newspaper again. Tom didn't want to care, he preferred not to think about these things too much.
"Weren't you angry?" She asked quietly. It was an extremely stupid question, because who wouldn't be angry with a situation like this.
Tom looked up at her. He didn't understand what she was getting at and what she wanted him to admit. He could not see what she or he would gain from talking about his past, he is only sure that he will not tell everything, he doesn't know how reliable she is and what she will do with the information she receives. But the truth is that he doesn't mind giving her that information, because he no longer considers it to be valuable and it's not like he matters anymore.
"At first, when I started to understand, yes, I was angry, but now ..." He shrugged, reading the newspaper again. "Don't you realize that an Orphanage is like going to a pet store? Just a sign saying 'for sale' is missing. I stopped caring and you should do the same thing. "
His words, the tone of his voice, the way he behaved, everything was cold and insensitive. There was no trace of regret, nothing that Hermione knew as a feeling of sadness. He was detached, Tom Riddle didn't really care anymore about not being adopted.
"It is almost a rule in an Orphanage: Babies are always adopted. As you get older, the chances are less. When the twelve-year mark is reached, the chances are over. " He explained, still reading the newspaper, talking to her as if they were talking about the weather. "Honestly, I'm sorry for the adoptees. They barely know what to expect when Mommy—" He scoffed. "Has a biological child."
"Besides, Granger, we are not like them. They look at us as if we were freaks , aberration - " Tom continued, remembering the words Billy Stubbs used, laughing without joy. "But the truth is that we are the best. Muggles are nothing. "
"This is not true." She contradicts him. There was hatred for Muggles. Hermione wondered how long it would take him to show his disgust for Muggles. Unfortunately it didn't take long.
"It is obvious that it is." He looked at her like she was crazy. "Granger, we are better than them. The things that we are able to do are incomparable. They are bad and the fact that we have to hide our existence from them makes me extremely angry. "
"There are good and bad people on both sides, Tom."
"You have got to be kidding." Tom rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're a muggle lover, Granger?" He looked her up and down.
"We are not going to argue about that. I'm sure we have different opinions."
She didn't want to talk about bloodlines, Muggles and Muggle-borns with Tom Riddle. Not with him. That opened the door to a very dangerous debate, and judging by his gaze, she could see the gears in his brain working, which is not a good thing. On the way back to the known alley, they walked side by side. Tom Riddle did not make any aggressive moves or questions before she ended the debate abruptly, in fact, both preferred to walk in comfortable silence, entertained with their own thoughts. Of course, Hermione knows that now Tom Riddle is thinking and analyzing everything she said, the danger of the situation is there. However, he had a calm and serious expression, looking ahead, beside her, closer than she ever thought he would be. It was as if he was escorting her, marking territory, the strange part of the masculine behavior of the forties.
Something caught Hermione's attention, causing her to stop and Tom stopped at once. She was looking across the street, with a thoughtful look and a small frown of concern between her eyebrows. Tom followed her gaze and raised an eyebrow.
"I would like to change this whole situation." She murmured, looking at a mother with three children lying on a London sidewalk.
The mother who was holding a baby in her arms was in the mood to cry when she saw her two other children complaining about being hungry. A mother's desperation, Hermione supposed, is not being able to feed her children.
It was strange how many other people passed by and had the capacity to ignore. Hermione looked at the bag she was holding, it was what was left of what she and Tom ate.
Should I intervene? She wondered. It didn't seem right to do nothing, yet, Hermione knew she shouldn't have had any attitudes in the past. Doing nothing, being impartial, was so difficult, it was not human. And against everything she knew, against all advice, there was that impulse that told her it was right.
"Do you mind?" She asked Tom, showing him the cafeteria bag.
Tom shrugged, watching as she took a deep breath and crossed the street. If this was her act to have a peaceful night with her head on the pillow, he wouldn't stop her. At first, Tom thought that kindness,compassion, pity - whatever you want to call it - was extended to him out of interest. That she hides something? This he is sure of. That she acts differently? No. She was the same as before, in that way sometimes rough, sometimes kind, intelligent and too emotional.
He didn't quite understand why she did that, it's not like she was going to feed everyone in poverty. She would give this family something, but there would be others in worse shape. That is the world, it is not easy, just or gentle. However, one day, he will have control of everything, so he will be the order and the law. The judge and the executioner.
It was the sunny afternoon of the next day, Tom Riddle had already settled in and was treating the tent as if it were his home, which surprised Hermione. He actually let all the masks go, or so it seemed.
Nix made a noise when he entered the tent, carrying a letter stuck in his beak.
Tom watched with interest when Hermione took the letter, Nix flew towards him, waiting for some snack for the good work. Tom tried to calm the owl on the perch by smoothing his feathers. Incredibly, Tom got along better with animals than with humans.
When Hermione saw whose letter it was, she glanced over her shoulder at Riddle, noting how her owl seemed to get along so well with him in such a short time. She felt a little jealous, but her concern was greater. Opening the letter quickly, Hermione read the words that buried her hope once again. Her friend was still not good and was saying nonsense.
She wondered again how much this affected Harry Potter.
Hermione looked again at Tom Riddle who was unchanged in the face of everything, she left the letter in her hand catch fire through magic and burn to ashes, while that strange feeling of bitterness pulled away, needing to stay away from him.
What did not go unnoticed by Tom.
Whatever she read in the letter, it stirred her emotions. He thought, watching her go out of the tent. Tom put Nix in the cage and closed it, then walked over to find Hermione on the beach.
She was sitting on a rock, hugging her legs, while the waves calmly licked part of the sand. Her hair flew against the breeze as if it had a life of its own, she looked at the sea with longing and devotion and Tom wondered who was the person who could give her that kind of look.
He walked over to her, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. When he approached her, he noticed her embracing her legs tighter.
"What upset you?" He asked, sitting next to her.
Tom heard a small snort coming from her and she shook her head, as if she found something funny in his question.
She lifted her face slightly, her brown eyes very much like mahogany, looking under her long gaze hit him and Tom found himself swallowing heavily, as if to dissipate a lump in his throat.
"Nothing to worry about." She answered.
Tom looked down, looking at her hands.
"You know and ask about my past. I don't think it's fair. " He looked at her face again, raising an eyebrow.
"A friend." Hermione spoke in a strong voice. "It's at 's. The news was not promising. "
Understanding showed on Riddle's face. Too emotional , he thought. Or maybe it was he who was very unemotional, or else, no one managed to activate that side of him. Thanks to Merlin , he thanked.
He looked around, not knowing what to say.
"I want to ask you something." Tom took her hand, he heard the air leave her lips in surprise, it was her right hand, the one holding the wand. She never walked without her wand. Hermione watched with curiosity as he traced her hand, there was no strength or brutality, only softness, but she ingested the air a little distressed by the situation when he touched the wood of the wand. The same curiosity that was in her eyes reflected in Tom Riddle's eyes. Admiring the wand with almost childlike interest, Tom asked:
"What was that? What happened in the Room of Requirement? " He looked at her, his hand still in hers and her wand.
The questions, the curiosity, she knew they were going to come. Hermione thinks it took too long, but maybe he was testing the waters with her, to see how far he could go. It is not surprising, however, that he remembers everything and every detail; Riddle is like that, she supposed.
She then wonders what she can say that doesn't provide him with valuable information and what he doesn't already know. Was it safe? She wondered.
"Priori Incantatem." Hermione murmured to him.
Tom stopped for a moment, looked at her and then at her wand.
"Sister wands." He concluded. He had read about it when he was a newbie at Hogwarts, he learn about wands and about the school, trying to gather as much information as he could not to be a layman, yet it was never enough.
He traced the wand's wood with his fingers, ignoring Hermione's tight grip, she was still afraid to let the wand go and he admired her for being so smart. The wand, even with Hermione, reacted to Riddle, perhaps because of Riddle's wand that was the sister. Tom then remembered the incredible connection between the two in the Room of Requirement.
Yes, a connection . He looked at Hermione again. One more thing that made her connected to him.
"Is that why you didn't want to duel?" He asked and she snorted.
"Yes. Among other reasons as well. " Hermione scolded him with a look. "You wanted to harm me."
"Is it possible to duel?" Tom asked, ignoring Hermione's last sentence. He's not thinking of dueling with her, it's just a curiosity, a possibility that he wants to be prepared for.
"I believe so, but if both spells are cast at the same time -"
"The connection occurs." He finished the sentence for her. "How do you know about the Room of Requirement?"
He sees the hesitation in her, she licks her lips and looks down. He's still holding her hand.
"I read in a book about Hogwarts and some of the mysteries in the castle. Given what happened, I just concluded that that was the Room of Requirement. " She lied. "And how did you find out?" She asked.
Tom looked out to sea, the sun is starting to set between the clouds and the sea, and the sky has become a strange mixture of colors like orange, red and purple.
"In a book too. A book that talks about the castle. " He answered in his mysterious voice.
This book he was referring to was inside the Chamber of Secrets, created by Salazar Slytherin himself, one of the founders of Hogwarts, explaining the entire construction of the castle.
Hermione stared at him for a few seconds, seeing Riddle's profile and how his hair flew against the wind and returned to the same perfect position. They fell in silence, watching the sunset, listening to the sound of the waves and smelling the sea air. Riddle was still moving his fingers against Hermione's skin, it didn't look like he was aware of what he was doing. However, when he moved to her left hand, going up the wrist, he stopped. Tom blinked a few times trying to focus, he looked down at her wrist, his thumb gently pressing the delicate flesh. He turns her arm over and over again, and Hermione tries to understand what he is doing with curious expectation. Tom stops again, exposing her wrist to him, his index finger traces all the way to the fold of her arm, this is where Hermione knows.
"I feel magic here. It's a charm to hide something. " He says, frowning.
Hermione swallowed and she put her hand with her wand over her arm to hide from Riddle's view. Tom looked at her, watching as she bites her bottom lip and pulls her arm towards her body.
"What's it?" He asked.
He notices her looking to the right side, then to the left side, running her tongue over her lips. Undecided and stressful behavior , he deduces.
"A scar." She whispered almost inaudibly. Tom narrows his eyes at her when he catches her looking at his ring. "I… .I need to think, excuse me." Hermione gets up from the rock where she was sitting and walks away from him, walking along the beach, lost in her own thoughts.
He watches her from afar, watching her walk on the beach in her sundress, her hair loose and unruly against the breeze. Tom looks at the iron cord around her neck and asks himself a question.
Unconsciously he plays with the ring on his middle finger, while still looking at her. It's possible? He wonders, thinking about the protective behavior that Hermione has with that necklace that he never had a chance to see completely.
No, of course not. He denies it to himself. Granger doesn't seem like the type of person who would do such a thing. Tom looks at the ring that doesn't shine in the light. Or am I mistaken? He turns his head in the direction she's gone.
It is dawn and Riddle was in his dreamless sleep, resting in what was his room now, after a silent dinner between him and Granger. Both retired early to their proper rooms after doing the night routine.
He's snoring softly in the darkness of his room when a scream echoes. At first he doesn't move, he just grumbles as he turns to the other side of the bed, but when more screams of terror echo, Riddle wakes up instantly. He listens carefully and turns to the other side again, willing to ignore, but she screams and cries. Tom lifts his chest from the bed, looking around, listening to the screams that came from Granger's room. Throwing the blankets away, he gets up, opening the door quickly and walking with heavy steps to her room, ready to act if necessary.
He has his hand on the doorknob when he pauses for a moment, not knowing how she is dressed inside the room, but when he hears her moan 'no' in whimpering, he opens the door.
Tom swallows his breath when he sees her like that. She has her lower body hidden by the covers, her hair is loose and spread over the pillow, some strands of her hair are stuck to her forehead, a drop of sweat runs down her forehead, down her cheek, going towards the chin, her eyebrows flutter and he thinks she can cry in her sleep, her breathing is fast, giving him the view of her chest rising and falling.
Riddle's eyes appear to glow green in the partial darkness of the room; he walks slowly and silently to the edge of the bed, looking at her from above. There is a crease between his eyebrows when he frowned.
His gaze takes a long way over her body structure, passing over her face, stopping on her lips for a moment, then on her chin to her slender neck, where he perceives the main vein; the jugular, descending into the small space between her collarbones, to where her breasts are hidden by the strange shirt she wears. The necklace, which he is so curious to know, is hidden in the valley between her breasts, under her shirt. Her skin is flushed and with little beads of sweat. Unconsciously he licks his lips and fists his hands, it was his body trying to control his impulses. He takes a deep breath and seems to get dizzy when he smells her fragrance.
Tom looks again at the iron cord, the desire to touch and pull the necklace from valley hidden by her shirt is great, but there is something that goes beyond that. It is the strange feeling at the base of his stomach, a kind of tug, spasm or as if there are birds flying in there. His blood is running in all directions, but the one he can feel most is there and in his ears.
However, the cry from her, makes him wake up and shudder with his ears aching. He locks his jaw, shakes his head to concentrate.
"Granger." He moves her shoulder, trying to get her to wake up. "Granger." Tom calls her again, but it is only the third time that she wakes up.
Hermione raises her chest, breathing quickly, she blinks a few times and puts her hand against her forehead, trying to calm herself. She looks to the side, finding Riddle standing.
"Riddle?" She murmurs in a broken voice. He's wearing a set of gray pajamas, the top four buttons on his shirt are undone, giving her a partial view of his collarbone and chest.
"You were screaming like a pig being taken for slaughter." He says, confirming to Hermione that she was having a nightmare. A nightmare that left her shaken, after all, dreaming about Bellatrix Lestrange and the torture she suffered, always makes Hermione look like this. She thinks it was worse this time because she quoted the Dark Lord himself about her scar.
"Sorry." She murmured, resting both hands on the bed.
"Hm." Riddle shifted his weight to the other leg. Hermione moved restlessly, stroking her wrist. "It's about the scar." Tom doesn't ask, he just knows what her nightmare is about, she demonstrates in her behavior.
Hermione watches him sit on the bed next to her and then lie down, looking up at the starry ceiling created by magic in a spell that was very similar to Hogwarts. Not knowing what to do, Hermione looks at him for a few seconds, before finally lying in bed again. Riddle has the decency to lie on top of the blankets.
"Can I see?" He asks, of course he is referring to a scar.
"No." She replies and swears she can hear a small laugh coming from him, she is probably wondering too much.
A few more seconds pass, both of them were silent watching the magical starry sky that Hermione created, until he asked again:
"Was it an accident?"
"No." Hermione replied. "It wasn't an accident."
"Hm." Tom murmured. "You were tortured."
Hermione's silence was all the confirmation he needed, now the puzzle pieces were starting to make sense to him.
"Was it a muggle?" He asked.
"No."
"Oh, a wizard."
"A witch." She corrected him.
How strange and ironic, he thought. While he had been tortured by Muggles, she had been tortured by Wizards.
"Was it in the war?" He continued, looking at the sky that was now showing the constellation Ophiuchus - or in other words: Serpentarium.
"Yes." She murmured in a distant voice.
"Is the witch alive?"
"Yes."
"Hm." He exhaled, waited a moment and asked again. "Would you take revenge on her? Would you kill her if you had the chance? "
Tom waited for her answer, at first all he received was silence. He even thought she was back to sleep, but then she replied,
"Yes."
He thought for a few seconds about her answer.
"Good."
o0o
"I can't believe we're almost late to catch the Train." Hermione grunted, being followed by Riddle, as she walked to choose one of the Hogwarts Express cabins.
"You were the one who was late with your things, remember?"
She didn't even realize that all this moment he was guiding her, even though she was walking ahead.
"Ah, yeah, is it my fault now?"
"Whatever, Granger." He didn't want to argue with her. "It's that cabin."
She rolled her eyes at his behavior, pulled the cabin door aside, when she looked inside, she gasped at her breath and opened her eyes wide. It was only a matter of hundredths for her to turn around, however she collided with Riddle, who was at all times behind her.
"Have you gone crazy?" She whispered to him.
"Get in the cabin, Granger." He ordered, a side smile appearing on his expression.
Stiffly and slowly, Hermione turned to face the cabin. It lay inside: Black, Lestrange, Malfoy, Mulciber, Rosier and Avery. Everyone was looking at her.
She had just entered the cabin from hell.
-Dispholidus typus also known as Boomslang, the eleventh most poisonous snake in the world.
Author's note: Well, I wasn't entirely happy with this chapter, I don't know why, but I hope you like it. Tell me what you think.