#180 in Fanfiction || #1 in Hermione ||
In the language of literature, there exists a seemingly-concrete, antonymous relationship between good and evil, light and dark, hero and monster. And yet, we often disregard the transition from one to anothe...
"He won't touch me as long as he needs me..." Abraxas says slowly, much like a serpent, though tamer than Tom, "...and he will continue needing me. Abraxas Scorpius Malfoy does not bow down to anyone."
Hermione grins at the boy in front of her, though his words do not bode well for her task as a Knight. However, it is comforting to see another person her age suspecting Tom Riddle of less-than-virtuous deeds. And moreover, it is nice not having to overly fake her personality, finding comfort in their calm conversation even when parting later that night.
And though she tries to avoid his gaze and presence, Hermione does not miss Tom Riddle pulling Lestrange from the Slytherin Common Room as she moves to her dorm. And it does not take her smarts to know that Lestrange will be in great pain tonight and sore the next morning.
///////////////
Perhaps ignorantly, Hermione does not spend any average amount of time getting ready the following day. Like before, in her proper time, Hermione chooses to simply pull her hair back in a braid and throw on her robes over the Time-Turner. And, consequently from her rush, she is the first to arrive in the Great Hall, books in tow and weighing down her bag.
It is more peaceful to be alone here than her room, as this feels like serenity while her room bodes of loneliness. She eats quietly, head tucked down as she reads over the Transfiguration book again, lost to the silence like literature has always managed. And though her senses are tuned to presences nearby, Hermione is hardly used to snakes in her struggles. Maybe that is why she does not notice a certain Slytherin's presence until he sits down, refusing to jump in surprise even as her heart hammers in her chest.
Hermione expects Abraxas Malfoy when she looks up, but she flinches upon seeing Tom Riddle instead. His long and graceful fingers (one of the few things unchanged between now and the 1990s) butter his toast with utter grace and ease. Hermione blanches, mouth dropping at the sight of him, not seeing why his company is quite necessary now.
"Close your mouth before I curse it shut for you," Tom says with a warm tone, though it causes chills to run down her spine in his obvious facade. Hermione's eyes stare at him for mere seconds, mouth shutting as she then surveys the room. The only other students present are a group of ignorant Hufflepuffs who'd surely not help her if Tom went on the attack.
"I apologize. It's just...I wasn't expecting you," Hermione whispers to Tom looking to him with her honey-dipped eyes that most men would fall for in mere seconds. However, the darkness of the boy repels all sense of virtue and sweetness.
"You were expecting Abraxas?" Tom asks, staring at her with a strong gaze and faked interest. He takes a bite out of his toast, his white teeth glistening and reminding Hermione of a snake's bite as she just stares at him. How is it possible to look so predatory?
"Isn't that what I am meant to be doing?" she manages, looking back to his eyes as he grins at her, pleased to see unnerved feelings in her magic.
"Of course it is," he responds, continuing to eat as they lapse into silence, Hermione avoiding his gaze as he stares at her. As the minutes pass in discomfort, students and professors move into the Hall, picking their own food and looking to the Head Boy and new girl with curiosity or jealousy. Neither Hermione nor Tom respond to their gazes.
"Tom, m'boy!" Slughorn shouts as he moves down the Hall and towards the two students, his belly heavy though not to the extent of the future. And while Tom places his charming facade on his face, Hermione mentally prepares herself for the professor's ignorance and idiocracy.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
