16. A Mudblood's Confession

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"Shocking business... shocking... miracle none of them died... by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Albus..."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"Quite the lucky ones, I'd say... But there will be consequences, I fear..."

"What do you mean, Headmaster?"

"Nasty encounter they got there... A part of their soul has vanished, I suppose?"

"I don't suppose there's a way of knowing, Headmaster... Only time will tell... I reckon it would be best to let them both rest... "

"Yes, yes! Right indeed Albus... Get along, I must contact the Ministry immediately. No more Dementors hovering around school grounds...I should've never agreed on this. "

Hermione heard both professors' footsteps retreating out of the Hospital Wing. A loud thud was heard, signalling they had closed the giant wooden door. The room was quiet. She felt very groggy. The words she had been listening seemed to be traveling very slowly from her ears to her brain, so that it was difficult to understand. Her limbs felt like lead; her eyelids too heavy to lift.

Suddenly, Hermione's brain seemed to be moving a little faster, and as it did, a gnawing sensation grew in the pit of her stomach. She finally opened her eyes.

Everything was slightly blurred. She was lying in the dim lit hospital wing. Closing her eyes again to try and adjust her vision, she reopened them and moved her head over on the pillow. In the bed to her right lay Tom Riddle. Moonlight was falling across his bed. His eyes were still closed as he slept a pacific slumber; his chest was moving up and down slowly, as he breathed in and out. Hermione found herself wishing he'd always look this peaceful.

She stepped out of bed and slowly walked toward the big window next to Tom's bed. She stared at the hooded figures that thankfully lingered far enough from the Hospital Tower. But something didn't feel right: she felt numb and hopeless; like all hope she once had on making things right had vanished. She felt incomplete; Then a bright, luminescent light surged from somewhere on the school ground, and the Dementors flew away, taking a small part of her with them.

"Are they still out there?" said Riddle, looking agitated. Hermione turned to face him hastily, not expecting him to be awake so soon. "Well...are they?" he pondered, almost anxiously.

"No." Hermione said. "They're gone..."

His look was desperate, almost unnatural; Then it all came flooding back to her – the Siren's enchanting voice putting them on a daze and pulling them closer and closer to her, when suddenly something scared the mesmerizing mermaid; the Dementors closing in on them, the feel of depression and numbness; Riddle confessing he wasn't able to conjure a Patronus; his worried and fearful expression – something she'd never thought possible.

She took a good look at the black haired boy that lay in bed across from her: his dark eyes remained the same, but the fieriness and evil that resided on them was momentarily gone; his dark and slightly wavy hair was completely dishevelled in every direction, almost putting Hermione's crazy and untamed curls to shame. Almost. His high cheekbones were a slight pink, adding some contrast to his pale skin. For the first time in his life, he looked – dare she think- human.

Hermione moved closer to him cautiously. She knew that even though his image portrayed an innocent, scared-looking boy... that he wasn't. He watched warily as well, his gaze locking on her warm brown eyes.

"What was it?" he inquired curiously. "Your happy memory?" There was something different about the way he spoke: his usual scowl did not lay on his plump lips for once, and his voice was quiet and smooth; not angry and dark. 

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