Michelton Wrote

Being between the two of them was like being in the ocean, pulled multiple directions by a riptide. On one hand you had the power of the ocean’s waves, crashing down on you, wave after powerful wave pushing you down into its depths. The riptide however would grab ahold of your body, pulling you deeper and deeper into the sea, wanting you to drown, to be consumed by its power.

That was what it was like being in the middle of Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger. Tom the powerful ocean, beating you down, and Hermione the riptide, grabbing hold of you and pulling you deeper into her world.

It was tragic, it was exhausting, it was intoxicating, all at the same time.

Abraxas remembered the day that they first saw Hermione, standing outside the castle gates, clothes tattered, looking as if she had just run from the devil himself. It had been Tom that had gone to the gates, had alerted a professor, who had caught her as she collapsed in what they could only assume was exhaustion.

The situation had drawn Tom's attention to the girl, and had sparked his curiosity towards her. It was the next day, the day that Tom and himself had gone to visit the girl in the hospital wing that had started Tom’s obsession.

Abraxas remembered it like it was yesterday.

_______

Abraxas stood in the common room, next to the fire, waiting for his ‘friend’ Tom to appear from his dorm, waiting for his next order. It was the night before that Tom had seen a girl with riotous curls standing at the front gate, dressed in a blouse and pants that were unlike anything they had ever seen. She had been covered in dirt and grime, her robes torn and tattered. She was in a right state, her eyes wide, wand ready, as if she was ready to fight. 

“Are you alright?” Tom had asked, taking a step towards the girl “you look like you’ve been attacked”

“I have been.” the girl replied, her wand at the ready, pointed at them, seemingly thinking she was still in danger. 

“You’re safe now” Tom had supplied. “Abraxas, go and find a professor or the headmaster” it sounded like a request to anyone else, but Abraxas had known it was a command. 

He wasn’t sure what happened between the time that he went to get a professor, professor Dumbledore to be exact, a fact Tom would punish him for later. Whatever had happened the girl who had been so defensive had collapsed to the ground outside the gates, her wand fallen limply from her grasp. 

“Abraxas” the sound of his name on Tom’s lips had startled him out of the memory of the night before. Abraxas turned to the other boy.

“Have you heard any news about the girl?” Tom asked, seemingly bored, though Abraxas could sense a bit of curiosity from him. It wasn’t every day a girl their age appeared out of no where looking like she had just fought for her life. It was natural for Tom to be curious about her, Merlin, Abraxas was curious about her as well.

“No, I only know that she’s in the hospital wing,” he replied, watching as Tom nodded thoughtfully. 

“Come then” he had said, turning on his heel and heading to the entrance of the dungeons. Abraxas didn;t need to know where they were going, it seemed obvious to him. 

It hadn’t taken long for them to reach the hospital wing, to find it deserted, only one lone bed filled. The girl must have just gotten up from having passed out, for she was sitting in bed, looking confused. /pon hearing footsteps, her head snapped towards them and her wand was in her hand within seconds. She had raised her wand at them, for the second time, and abraxas couldn’t help but wonder what his master thought about that. 

Noone threatened Tom Riddle. 

No one, but his followers, thought he was threatening.

“You’re safe here” Tom said, his dark eyes watching her, taking her appearance in. They had left her in her tattered clothes, the girl still muddy from whatever adventures she had been apart of.

The girl slowly looked at them both, really taking them in before she slowly lowered her want “Draco” she looked at Abraxas confused “Why is your hair so long” she asked blinking at him “ where is you know who”

Abraxas looked at Tom, who was watching the girl, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Tom thought, that the girl completely ignored him and addressed Abraxas instead.

“My name is Abraxas, Abraxas Malfoy” he informed her pleasantly “I don’t know who Draco is or you know who.”

The girls mouth popped open before she shut it again. She looked between the two of them. “Malfoy” she repeated his surname as if puzzled. She turned her attention back to them “Whats the date?” she asked.

“September 2nd” Tom supplied, still watching the girl, his curiosity at its peak.

“The year. What’s the year?” she asked

“1944” Tom replied, and Abraxas cast his eyes towards him, for he could tell the question had piqued his interest. 

“50 years” she whispered looking down at her hands that still held her wand.  

“What’s your name?” Abraxas asked, taking a step towards her bedside. She shifted to look at him, really taking him in this time, her eyes shifting between himself and Tom. “Hermione, Hermione Granger”

“It’s nice to meet you Hermione, I’m Tom, Tom Riddle” he said, and abraxas watched as the girl’s eyes widened, staring at the hand that Tom had extended towards her, and watched as she refused to take it. 

Hermione had made two things very obvious. One was that she was from the future and the second was that she knew the name Tom Riddle. 

—

That had been the start of Tom Riddle’s obsession with Hermione Granger.

Dumbledore had come soon after to check on the girl ushering both boys from the hospital wing. Tom and Abraxas left without a fight, but Abraxas couldn;t help but look behind him at the girl, noticing the look of pure hatred and disgust on the girl's face. 

Hermione had been sorted that night, being sorted into Gryfindor of all places. Abraxas found himself surprised at that, but didn’t voice his opinion. Tom seemed to be disappointed in the fact she wasnt sorted to slytherin. It meant that she wasn’t easily accessible. 

It had been strange at first, to see someone actively avoid Tom like he was the plague. Normally girls were drawn to him, hung on his every word. Not Hermione Granger. And it wasn’t from lack of trying on Tom’s part. 

Abraxas on the other hand, had managed a tentative friendship with the girl. It had started easily enough, with potions class. Slughorn had paired the two of them up for an assignment. It had been awkward at first, the girl sending him looks, like she was seeing someone else from the corner of her eye. That was when he broke the silence between them, asking her who Draco was. To his surprise she told him that he was a bully from her old school. He asked her about her past, and she told him a little bit about her, how she had resided in France, how she and her friends had gotten in the way of some of Grindelwalds forces. That she had fled after her friends passed away, going to the only place she could think of that would be safe. Hogwarts.

It was an interesting story, and one he was inclined to believe, yet he had overheard her murmuring to herself about the year being fifty years different. She was either from the past or from the future, and As far as Tom was concerned, she was from the future. Abraxas had to agree, especially with how she treated the budding dark lord.

If Tom was nearby, Hermione would leave, not so much as sparing him a glance. It was fascinating to see, especially since she was so kind to others. It was Tom she seemed to hold a grudge against, even though it had been him that had helped her to begin with.

Watching Tom being rejected was both amusing and terrifying. If someone so much as mentioned Hermione, of talking to her, himself included, they found themselves on the wrong side of his wand. It was why Tom's followers steered away from Hermione, with the exception of Abraxas. The girl seemed to seek him out, even when he was trying to avoid her, a fact that did not escape Tom’s attention. 

It had been hard to convince his ‘friend’ that the attention was unwanted, unwarranted. And Abraxas had truly expected to be at the wrong end of the cruciatus curse. Yet to his surprise Tom had chuckled, and had encouraged him to spend time with Hermione. To find out her secrets, her real secrets, for he didn’t believe her backstory for a minute. 

That is what led him to today, an unexpected, unfortunate day that it was. 

It had been nearly 4 months since he had first met Hermione and the two of them had become closer, closer than he had truly expected. The girl tended to spend more time around him then she did with any of her other friends. It hadn’t been a surprise to him when the girl in question had asked him to go to Hogsmeade with her, hadn’t even been surprised by her holding his arm, that having become the norm months ago.

It was when they stood under a wild mistletoe, when she leaned up and kissed him, that he had become surprised, pulling away from her , glancing into the beautiful honey brown eyes.

“I'm sorry, I just…” Hermione started but Abraxas cut her off, leaning down and kissing her gently, surprised by his own actions, but also not really.

Hermione was beautiful in a wild way, charming when she wanted to be, wicked smart and kind. It was everything in a girl he could ever want. It was no surprise to him that he had developed feelings for the girl. No surprise that he enjoyed this kiss, even if it had taken him off guard. What had surprised him was the fact that she willingly kissed him, that she seemed to return the feelings he had been harbouring the last few months.

He wasn’t sure if the kiss lasted seconds or minutes, too caught up in the kiss to really notice anything other than her and her movements. He was keenly aware that she had wrapped her arms around his neck, had pressed her body against his own, her fingers entwining his long platinum hair. 

The kiss would have continued if it wasn't for the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow that interrupted them. Slowly they moved away from each other, and Hermione turned toward the sound of footsteps towards them.

He knew immediately who had interrupted them without having to look, the look of hatred that crossed Hermione's face making it all too evident. His  blood ran cold, wondering how long the other boy had been watching. Had he seen her kiss him first or just him snogging her. He looked at Tom, who seemed calm, though by the way he unconsciously twirled his wand in between his fingers, Abraxas was certain he was livid. 

“Alright Tom?”

Neither boy expected her to break the silence between them, both of them casting their eyes towards her. This was the first time that she has actually addressed him. 

“I’m fine,” Tom responded, watching them both. 

“Good” Hermione replied, taking Abraxas’s hand in her own, intertwining their fingers together “ We’lll see you later then” she said, pulling him back towards the castle, pasting Riddle.

As Abraxas passed by Tom, he felt Tom grasp his arm, stopping himself and in extension Hermione. “I’ll see you tonight Abraxas” the boy informed him, as if he was calmly going over plans that they had previously agreed on.

Dread filled his stomach and he started to respond but Hermione cut him off “ He has plans tonight, we are studying together in the library until curfew” she informed him. 

Again Tom looked at Hermione thoughtfully this time. He didn;t say anything, merely removed his hand from Abraxas’s arm and allowed them to leave.

It seemed Hermione had saved him from Tom’s wrath, at least for a moment, but Abraxas knew the truth, there really was no escape from Voldemort. 

Frantic footsteps echoed in his ears as he ran, his heartbeat racing in his chest, his lungs burning as he made it to his destination, the hospital elevator.

This was not how he had planned to spend his evening, racing across London, hair dischevoled, suit wrinkled and out of breath.

Yet, it was fate.

6 months ago his fiancé had left him, changing her number and allegedly moving from the country, to the states, yet tonight he received a call that his fiancé, Hermione had been in an accident.

He had tried to find her during these last 6 months, had even gone to the states, trying to find her, to no avail.

Now it all made sense. She had never left. Not really.

Tom ran his hand through his once immaculate hair, trying to straighten it as the elevator rose so slowly to the 7th Floor. ICU.

The seconds the metal doors creaked open he shot forward like a rocket towards the nurse desk, asking for his fiancé's room.

And then, there she was, Room 743.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw her, eyes closed, electrode on her temples, her chest. It was terrifying to see.

“Are you Dr. Riddle?” a voice asked behind him.

“I am” Tom responded, turning to take in a young woman in a doctors coat.

“Well Doctor, I’m glad you’re here. Don’t worry about your fiancé, she had a minor accident, She will make a full Recovery. We are gonna keep her in ICU for a day to monitor after the surgery-” “What Surgery?” Tom asked, his eyes going back to Hermione, slightly alarmed that such a healthy creature would have to have surgery for a minor accident.

“Well the baby’s heartbeat was weak and we had to do an emergency c section. Don’t worry, your daughter is fine. She is in NICU.”

Tom felt his heart stop beating at the doctors words. Baby. NICU.

“How old is she?” he asked, breathlessly.

“I believe she is around 27 weeks.”

Tom nodded “Thank you doctor. I would like to spend time with my fiancé if you don’t mind”

The doctor hummed her approval and left, leaving Tom in the room filled with beeping monitors, soft breathing, and the new knowledge that he was a father.

Knowledge that Hermione had not given him before she had taken off, nor after.

Tom watched the scene before him, his heart calm and steady.

Even as the screams filled the air, women and children trying to flee for their lives, but they were just gathered by his followers.

They had dared to hide her from him. They had sinned against him, against their god.

They would not be spared. No one would, not as long as she was in hiding.

The last he had heard, she had been spotted here. Villagers screamed and cried, begging for mercy.

“Where is she?” he voice was calm, not showing just how angry he was, how desperate he was to find her. 

“I know know!” The woman cried but it was a lie. They were all lying.

She was here. He could sense it.

“IF you continue to hide, I will kill them all for their sins” He yelled the words, confident that she would hear him “Come Out Hermione. Come out and be mine, and all this stops”

Nothing happened, even though children cried and screamed, begging for help she did not come. “This innocent blood is on your hands Hermione!”

“No! Stop!” He heard the cry, a man he didn’t recognize, and then a form he did know.

The image of her had been burnt into his very soul the second he laid eyes on her. He knew she was his, not even having to speak with her, though when he had he had been delighted.

Yet she had refused to be his. 

Now, seeing her struggle getting away from a man, he wondered if it was by choice.

“Please, stop” She was at his feet instantly, and he took in her torn clothing, the soot and dirt that seared her skin. Yes, she had been held against her will.

She grabbed his robes, holding on them for dear life “please, spare them, they didn’t know. I’ll be yours, please.”

He reached down and stroked her hair, tangling them in her dark curls.

“They have still sinned against their god, against you” he murmured “they will pay with their lives” HE grabbed her hair and pulled her up, ignoring her scream of pain. She would thank him for this later.

First, he had to take her home. 

He threw her in a carriage where she was bound. He climbed in beside her, before nodding to the leader of his followers “Kill them” he said, closing the door, ignoring the screams and sobs. 

She never expected it, the sound of a gun, ringing in her ears as she walked down an alley on her way home with her best friend Harry Potter.

They were coming back from a movie, she was trying to distract him from his upcoming vows.

This shouldn’t have happened, yet it had.

She watched in horror as Harry dropped to the ground. She screamed, only to have her mouth covered

“Be quiet Hermione.” 

Her blood ran cold, recognition at the voice. 

“Tom?” she whispered his name, confusion filling her. Why was he here? She had broken up with him a year ago. Sure, he texted her occasionally but that was it. “what are you doing here?”

“Getting rid of another obstacle” he replied letting her go, content she would not scream. 

Hermione stared at him blankly, the words not truly sinking in, until her eyes drifted to the gun in his hand. She turned from him, unable to process the horror, instead she went to Harry’s aid, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Tom call for help, please” she whispered, though she didn’t know why she asked. After all. He was the one to do this “Please Tom I can’t lose him”

It wasn’t the right thing to say “I couldn’t lose you, yet you left. You will survive without him”

“We weren’t right for eachother. What are you even talking about!? Tom Please, he is innocent, please help him”

“What we had was special... I can’t let that go... not now, not ever.”

The words hit her as if she had ice cold water poured over her.

“Tom...” she tried her best not to back down from him, even as Harry’s bloods seeped through her fingers “What we had has been over for years. We haven’t been dating for year!” she threw the words at him, her eyes on him even as her hands worked, , trying to tourniquet the wound.

“Stop trying to save him.” he growled the words, his blue eyes flashing red, his anger at her life saving efforts.

“No!” she said definitely. She winced as he held the gun towards them, not pointing at her, but at Harry, at his head. 

She leapt into action, covering Harry with her own body. It protected him, for Tom didn’t shoot.

At least she thought it helped, until he grabbed her hair, dragging her away from her friend “Tom stop!” she screamed desperately “He’s just a friend, please!”

He continued to drag her away, not responding to her words “Please Tom. Let me save him. I’ll come with you willingly. It will be like old times”

Those words seemed to reach him, for he stopped, his grip loosening slightly “You are lying.” he said, though she could see the uncertainty in his face.

“I swear it to you Tom. Let me save my friend, we will go somewhere far away. I swear it.”

She didn’t think he would do it, but then she felt him let her go. She scrambled to Harry who was unconscious. She clung to Harry, putting pressure on his wound. She could hear sirens in the distance. She was certain that someone had called for help, had heard the gun shot.

Tom was gone when the police arrived, asking her what happened.

She wanted to tell them the truth, that it was her ex boyfriend who had shot her friend. 

She knew better though, no one would believe her that Tom Riddle, CEO of Walpurgis Enterprises would shoot anyone. Even if they did, it would put Harry at risk.

So instead she told them that she and harry had been walking home from a movie when they were mugged.

A mugging gone wrong. They believed it. That was all that mattered.

She described the mysterious person as much as she could, hoping the sketch didn’t look like anyone at all. 

After she was questioned she sat by Harry’s bed, holding his hand. She wasn’t sure how long it was before he came for her.

She hated him in those moments, as he came in, looking frzzled, as if he didn’t know who had done this.

“Hermione, are you alright?” he asked her. He stepped behind her his hands on her shoulders, as if he was comforting her.

She wanted to scream, to yell for the police, but she knew better. 

In truth she should have known he wouldn’t ever truly let her get away. Harry hadn’t been the first sign, the others she had ignored, had hoped it wasn’t true.

Now she could no longer pretend.

“I’m fine, the mugger shot Harry, not me.”

She was aware of his eyes on her, on the way she held Harry’s hand “Harry is the boy I grew up with, the one I used to tell you about. He had been in America for so long. Recently he had come back to Britain. He’s engaged and was going to be married tomorrow. His fiancé had wanted to not see him until the wedding day, some kind of family tradition.” She held his hand tighter before looking up at Tom “They say he might not survive. He lost a lot of blood.”

She couldn’t help but glare at him, hoping he understood that if Harry died she would not keep her promise. She would run if she had to. Leave everyone behind.

His eyes narrowed on her, the blue darkening.

Good. He understood.

“Don’t worry, He will be fine, I’ll make sure of it.”

Hermione nodded softly, turning her gaze back to Harry. Slowly she let go of his hand. The second she did Ginny came in, brushing past Hermione and clinging to Harry.

Not wanting the girl to be in the same room as Tom she stepped into the hallway, Tom following after her.

They stood their for a minutes, Hermione staring at the floor, Tom watching her quietly.

“Let’s get a cup of tea Hermione, I think we have a lot to talk about.”

She hated the idea, honestly she wanted to run as fast as she could, but instead she nodded” Alright” 

He placed an arm around her wasit, guiding her towards the exit, towards his limo. She hesitated as he opened the door, looking back at the hospital.

“i’ll keep my promise.” Tom said, following her gaze. He left words unspoken, but she supposed they didn’t need to be spoken. He would keep his promise, as long as she kept hers. She slid silently into the car, Tom coming in after her.

“Did you do this to the others?” she asked finally as the driver put up the sound proof window, to give them privacy.

“Others?” Tom echoed.

“Ron, Cedric, Viktor. The accidents that they were in. Was that you as well?”

“I told you Hermione, I’m not willing to let what we have go. No matter the consequences.”

She felt her stomach grow heavy, and she wanted to hurl, but she knew better. Instead she looked out the window, trying to calm herself. After all, she had just made a deal with a psychopath. 

And there was no way out. 

“He will come for me” the curly haired girl’s words rang in his head, even though they were spoken so long ago.

At the time he had scoffed, told her that no god, demi god or otherwise, would ever come to her aid.

She was here for a reason, she had done some great wrong. Her soul was his to torture for all eternity.

Her pleas and denials had fallen on deaf ears. He had heard the sob stories a million times. Those who pleaded tended to be the guiltiest.

He had put her on the rack, and though she screamed in pain, tears running down her face, she never begged him to stop.

Weeks went by, him coming every day, to punish her himself, wanting her to beg for his mercy. It never came.

Two weeks in she was broken, her tears ran freely and her body was a tangled mess of broken bones and bruises. He expected her to beg that day, but she hadn’t, even as he tore into her flesh.

Then finally it came.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” he asked, pausing only momentarily on his tortured.

“I failed him. I died and now he is alone” it was a whisper, he wasn’t even sure he had heard it.

The sincerity of it, the fact her regret, after unceasing torture, was that she left someone alone, gave him pause.

He left her there, sobbing out apologies, wondering if someone had actually made a mistake. 

Was this soul not meant to be here?

In the end, it was his most loyal subject that told him the truth. His nephew had a childhood friend named Hermione, the very girl he had been torturing. She had been killed, mistaken for another woman, Bellatrix, a murderer, an insane creature.

Somehow her soul had come here instead of heaven.

It was a mistake that had never happened. 

Voldemort wasn’t sure how to react to it. He had tortured many in his times as the god of hell. 

Never an innocent.

He had gone to her, watched as her eyes came to his, tears flowing “again?” she asked, and the pain and sorrow were tangible. He could feel it himself.

He went to her side, watching as she braved his presence, even as her body obviously wanted to shrink away.

He did the unthinkable. loosening her restraints, pulling her mangled body and soul into his arms. 

He didn’t know what to do with this soul that had been wrongly sent to him, but he knew punishing her for it was not something he could do.

The gods had forsaken her. Had given her to him.

It was now his job to take care of her, in anyway he deemed necessary.

The thought stayed with him as he took her from the lower levels of hell, her body limp in his arms, though he knew she was alert.

Silence filled the room following a shattering of glass against the wall, no one dared to breath.

It was times like these that no one dared to be around Tom Riddle, usually so calm and reserved, now visibly livid.

"What do you mean she's pregnant?" the words echoed throughout the room, the poor woman who was on the receiving end of the question stuttering and stammering, looking around for someone to rescue her from the beast she had dared to provoke.

"Mr. Ridd-" the words were choked off by a sob followed by a scream of pain as the man's wand came out, the cruciutus curse causing the girl to writhe in pain.

It was only a few seconds, though the followers unlucky enough to be in the room felt as if it was an eternity.

"Whose child?" the beast in front of them hissed, receiving only sobs in return, which only further provoked him. Another round of the curse had the girl spasming, soiling herself.

Finally, someone stepped forward, a blond man. It was only the fact that he was still in touch with Hermione, still could meet her, that stopped Tom from cursing the man in front of him, from killing him.

"Who" he demanded, clearly at a loss. It had been a year since she had left him, yet she had dared to find another so quickly.

"Viktor Krum" Malfoy answered, his voice trembling ever so slightly "She just told me yesterday that she has been seeing him for a few months."

Her Ex.

The Quiddich player that she swore she didn't love.

He felt betrayal for the second time that night.

No, this would not do in the least.

She would regret lying to him, regret leaving him.

As the curtain fell across the stage, a huge sigh of relief left the curly haired stage manager.

The last two weeks had been a living hell for Hermione Granger.

It was bad enough that she hadn't gotten the position as Director, but to be cast as stage manager underneath him?

It had almost been enough for her to quit theatre all together.

Harry and Ron had convinced her otherwise, reassuring her that it wouldn't be that bad. Yes, she was working with Riddle, her most annoying enemy, but she would be doing something she loved.

It was supposed to be worth it.

Yet as that curtain closed, the only thing that Hermione could think was thank GOD.

It was over.

No more having to defend every decision she made to Tom Riddle. No more having to listen to his 'friendly suggestions' and 'critiques' as he called them.

The truth was the second that he had been made director of the play he had taken it upon himself to make her life a living hell.

For months he tortured her with his opinions, making her do work that he should have taken care of himself.

If this whole experience had taught her anything it was that she truly hated Tom.

He always seemed to think he was superior to her, and never hesitated to rub it in her face.

Sometimes she swore he got off on his power trip.

Thunderous applause snapped Hermione from her thoughts, her eyes wandering to the stage where Tom had assembled the cast, was thanking them all for their hard work.

He should have called her to the stage as well, should have thanked her for all her hard work, but when the time came, his eyes locked with hers for the briefest of moments, a smirk across his face.

Then the bastard thanked the audience and just like that he had bypassed her.

If anyone noticed or cared, they didn't show it.

Anger flooded her veins as the cast departed the stage, Tom headed right towards her. She had every intention to tear into him right then and there, to give him a piece of her mind.

Fate had other plans.

Tom was halted on his way to her by Professor Slughorn, probably going on for the millionth time at ho outstanding Tom had been.

It was infuriating.

At least she didn't have to deal with it any longer.

Tonight, was the last time she had to willing sit in the room with Riddle for hours on end, pretending to care about his opinions.

He wanted to get her angry, she knew that, if the months of having to deal with him had taught her anything it was that.

Well, he wouldn't get the satisfaction.

With a final glare in his direction, she left the stage for the front of the theatre, where she was certain that her friends were waiting.

It was only a half hour later that the crowd departed, leaving a handful of actors behind.

"All right everyone! Great work! Get some rest you all deserve it!" Tom's voice was cheerful, rising above the hum drum of the crowd

"Remember tomorrow at noon we are to gather to tear down the set, everyone is required to attend!" Hermione piped up only to be met with grumbles of protest as people left.

Hermione found herself frowning after them.

"Don't worry about it 'Mione" Harry said trying to be supportive "Let's go home."

Ron voiced his agreement and they all started to leave. Just as Hermione got to the door Tom's voice stopped her. "Granger, I need you to stay behind a pick up before demolishion."

"I'll be in tomorrow early to take care of it" Hermione responded shooting a glare at the man "I have plans."

"Tonight. You're plans will have to wait." He didn't wait for her response, retreating back into the theatre.

"That son of a--"

"Hermione! Just the person I was looking for! Be a dear and lock up before you leave!" Slughorn chortled before exiting himself, followed soon by her best friends.

For what felt like the hundredth time that night, Hermione cursed Tom Riddle for being a dick.

It was that anger that brought her through the theater and to the stage where she found Tom, collecting abandoned scripts.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you Riddle?!" she demanded placing her hands on her hips, ready to square off with him.

"You." It was a simple response, one she wasn't expecting, or perhaps she was, but never expected to hear out loud.

"What?" she asked, her voice showing her surprise, and to her horror left her sounding a bit daft.

"You are what is the matter with me" Tom clarified, placing the stack of scripts neatly on a nearby table before turning to face her, a smug look plastered across his too handsome face.

"What the hell did I ever do to you?" she demanded.

"Your constant presence at every turn is what you've done" he replied taking a step towards her ,"You constantly have to challenge me every step of the way." he took another step closer to her "Every time I make a move you are there, challenging me, provoking me."

Hermione stood her ground "I am not! You are the one who is constantly trying to get the upper hand, you think you are so high and mighty, I'm sick of it!" she glared up at him, not noticing how close he was to her, not until it was too late.

His hand snapped towards her neck, causing her to gasp and jerk away, but his hand connected with her hair, fingers tangling in the mass. "even now you choose to fight instead of understanding me" he growled, and for the first time Hermione saw something in his eyes she didn't understand, didn't have any experiance in "Don't you understand what you do to me?" the words came out a low growl, causing shivers to run down Hermione's spine.

She opened her mouth to a say something, anything really, her hands wrappign around his wrist, trying to free herself, but her movements were thwarted.

"Tom let me go!" Hermione snapped pulling at his arm though it was no use. "Honestly I'm tired of fighting this" the words came out softly, making Hermione still, she opened her mouth to ask him what he meant when his mouth fell over hers, swallowing the question she had wanted to ask, answering it so simply instead.

That night, for the first time in a long time, Hermione learned something new.