authorsnote: quick updates
do enjoy, poor hermione ;-;
songrecs: shameless - camila cabello
They always say time changes things,
but you actually have to change them yourself
- Andy Warhol
-x-
To say she slept poorly would be an understatement.
She had tossed and turned throughout the night, tangled in the sheets, kicking her feet out and then tucking back under. She didn't have the rose mist she liked to liberally spray her pillows with, she had her wand under her pillow (and she thanked whatever had been evil enough to send her back here, for at least giving her, her wand, whilst cursing it or them or whatever at the same time), but everything was different, the feel of the bed, the pillows, the blanket, the room.
But that wasn't what kept her up.
No, what kept her rolling back and forth, cursing her lack of sleep, in and out, half an hour and then she'd wake, an hour and then she'd jolt up, no, what kept her awake was him.
Him, damn him.
She hadn't asked for this, to be thrown back in time, but it was a chance, an opportunity at least, to stop bloodshed, to give Harry the life he deserved, to end the war before it started, to stop the Wizarding Worlds near destruction.
It was an opportunity she could not, would not throw away.
And yet …
(She hated her own brain for even offering an 'and yet', but it did, everytime she tried to think, or dreamt of why she'd been sent back, what it meant and what a chance it at least gave her, her brain then supplied a 'and yet' against her will).
Things were different than she'd anticipated when she'd put on her Slytherin uniform, walked down the stairs and had been determined to make something of this.
'When life gives you lemons, make lemon marmalade!' Her Dad used to joke, she missed him, she missed her Mum, gods she missed home.
But it was different, he was different.
Yes, Tom Riddle was pretentious, annoying, far too clever and powerful for anyone's own good, and clearly entrenched in dark magic and plans to rule the Wizarding World.
The problem was he hadn't actually done any of it yet.
Yes, he was probably a psychopath, probably going to do all of the evil things she knew he was capable of, but he hadn't yet, hadn't.
Was that the line?
He hadn't even made his first horcrux yet. She knew from Harry's stories that he'd made it in his last year at school, and here he was still a 6th year.
God, was that her line? That he hadn't murdered anyone yet?
What should be?
It was all dreadfully confusing, and the very reason (plus his eyes, dark and stormy and intense, and ugh she wouldn't admit that to herself as she pulled herself out of bed, to shower, to dress, and not think of them, no, no, no), as she trudged down to breakfast, ignored whispers about the new girl and sat herself down at the table, she felt half asleep.
She cursed the Wizarding World for being anti-coffee as instead she poured herself a strong cup of tea with some lemon, ignored breakfast and just scooped up a banana, and instead nursed the much-needed caffeine.
"Tired?" She jumped as Tom sat next to her, he of course looked well rested and almost chirpy, offering her a fake smile as he reached for an apple and a tea, mimicking her paltry breakfast.
"My bed doesn't feel right here" She grumbled, it was true, it didn't, but that wasn't the reason for her exhaustion, and yet her sleep fogged mind seemed intent to have casual conversation for some reason.
"Softening charm?" He offered with a shrug as he bit into his apple with a crunch, she could admit this close up he was devastatingly handsome; god where was her brain this morning?
But that did add another complicated layer, she wasn't immune to it after all.
"Maybe" She mumbled before inhaling half of her tea, draining the rest and pouring herself another, another squeeze of lemon in and after three gulps she felt slightly more alive. "What's first thing?" She asked, stifling a yawn.
This was a bad idea, seeming friendly with Tom Riddle, but for that moment she was too tired to care.
"Defence" He offered, "How do you duel?"
"Poorly when I'm this tired" Better not let him know her skill, though she was no natural dueller, never to Harry's level, she knew enough to hold her own, probably not against him, but she'd put herself against anyone else in the year.
"Somehow I don't believe you, but we'll see I suppose" He said with that ever-present smirk, and then stood up, offered out a hand to her, "Walk you?"
Why was he being so nice? She didn't know, but wasn't so tired to take his hand, and instead stood up, managed a half-hearted glared and pushed past him, ignoring his out-stretched offer, ignoring the laughter from his friends as they teased him for having a crush, and ignored the way he watched her as she fled the Great Hall.
Ignored it all.
-x-
Lessons went by with little incident.
Because she avoided him.
Arrived a little later than she'd usually like, to ensure he was already present so she could slide in next to literally anyone else, so not to sit next to him, so not to be subject to him and his clever words for lesson after lesson.
During the Defence they were duelling, and she for the first time in her life deliberately downplayed her skill so not to be paired with him, ignored the look he shot her across the classroom. It made her feel dirty to downplay her skill but was necessary.
Skipped lunch in the Great Hall, instead broke her own rule and asked the House Elves for a sandwich, winced as they delighted in making her it at the kitchen door, promised herself she'd never do that again.
Managed all day without seeing him, managed to ignore the two looks he shot her, managed to avoid being near him … for it just seemed easier that way, so much easier, right?
Hadn't that been her plan?
Avoid him and lay low, defeat him by being something he didn't anticipate? Don't bring attention to herself.
She'd already failed in that of course but saw no harm in trying to start now, at least she saw no alternative.
Not the real reasons she was doing this of course, not the real reason she refused to look him in the eye in her sleep ridden state, knew if he cornered her, she was not up for a verbal battle, knew tiredness often saw her in her most honest state.
Did not want to be honest with Tom Riddle.
Better to avoid him, for more reasons than one then.
Managed all day without seeing him …
Almost.
It was after dinner he cornered her.
She'd decided to skip it, perhaps she could be truly awful and request another sandwich from the House Elves later, but she decided a bracing walk around the grounds in chilly September seemed far safer than getting Tom Riddles attention again.
And thinking of his eyes again …
God she was exhausted.
So exhausted that was what she would use to blame the fact she literally never saw him coming.
That and his brilliance at a disillusionment charm.
No surprise.
She turned a corner near the edge of the greenhouses, brushed off a yawn, turned around to walk down the side of Greenhouses 3 and 4, and then she jumped backwards, let out a squeal as he simply appeared, stepping into thin air in front of her, boxing her in, in the little walkway between Greenhouses.
Nowhere to run.
She was thinking it, and no doubt so was he.
"Oh Tom" She said, heart racing already, but going for unaffected, denial, whatever would get her out of this without snapping at him, drawing more attention to herself, or babbling out something she'd rather not say in front of him, whatever kept her under his radar. "Didn't see you there"
"Granger" He drawled, and she flinched as he stepped forward, backing her between the Greenhouses, all the way back to where the Castle itself curved, a small walkway there too, but nowhere out truly, as her back hit the Castle stone, and he boxed her in, eyes flashing. "Why are you avoiding me?"
"I'm not..." She began, nervous, more nervous than she could recall being in a long time. She didn't shake or tremble, but it was a close-run thing. Hardly her usual fiery, bull-headed self.
Because yes, she was terrified of Tom Riddle, would be stupid not to be, and was too tired for any false bravado, too tired to be riled up, too tired to be stubborn even.
In theory.
"Don't be pathetic" He said, and she certainly riled at that, managing a glare, her back straightening even as it was pressed against the stone wall, Riddle bearing down on her, tall and intimidating and with an odd expression … no sneer or disdain, just curiosity and did she detect a hint of concern? No, surely not, his expression was too guarded for that, perhaps she was half asleep already.
"I'm not pathetic" She bristled, her glare in full force now, tiredness would not stop her from standing up for herself.
"Then stop bleating like some sheep and tell me why you're avoiding me" He demanded, and she could have laughed, here he was, psychopathic Dark Lord and he was demanding as to why she'd rejected him, though not really rejected, mainly avoided.
It would have been comical if not for the look in hie eye.
"I don't even know you" She said, for it was true, didn't know him, didn't want to (didn't, didn't, didn't her mind insisted).
"You don't want to?" He asked, and she realised this was straying to dangerous territory, why was he asking if she wanted to get to know him?
Why did she hesitate?
"You're dangerous" She said flatly, for he was, he'd evidenced that to her already, "I should avoid you"
"But you don't want to" He said quickly, and she near sighed in frustration, no one was normally as quick as her, as quick to debate with her, it was thrilling, frustrating and exhausting all at the same time.
It was different, oh so different, and that was hard to process.
Especially with as tired as she was.
"I do" She insisted, but it sounded weak even to her, "You're dangerous, and hate people like me, and your friends hate people like me, and I won't put up with that, don't want to know people like that" She said, and that was the truth, she'd never accept his hatred, never, wouldn't betray herself like that.
No matter how he looked at her.
No matter how confused she was.
No matter how lonely she felt.
"You don't think you could change me?" There was a hint of mocking to his tone but less than she'd thought, more than she hoped.
Hope? A dangerous thing.
"You don't want to change" She said as a matter of fact, "And so, avoiding you seems better, we can't be friends, not with your views" She paused then, and looked him in the eye for the first time that day, "We can't be anything"
Why she had to clarify that, there was something other than friends, she didn't know.
But it was the first step, the first step down a dangerous, difficult path.
And one she'd walk alone.
"We were never going to be friends" He said simply, as though that was fact, and she flinched at that, at the certainty in his tone, at the shiver that chased up her spine, not due to the cold or even fear, but something else, something different.
He took a step forward then, her eyes widened, surrounded by dark circles they widened, and she would have stepped back, she would have, she promised herself, if there was space to step back into, would have.
God she hoped she would have.
But instead she remained still, remained still as he leaned down to whisper into her ear, his breath ghosting her lobe as she trembled, again nothing to do with the cold, resisted the urge to step forward.
"So, what else can we be Hermione?"
When she faints, swoons, whatever the Matron here will call it, she says to herself, in her confused mind, says to herself it is from her tiredness, perhaps the shock of time travel catching up to her, but as she falls, and Tom Riddle without hesitation catches her, she says that to herself.
It is a lie.
as I said, poor hermione ;-;
girl dont know whats going on
but tom sure does
do review