Breaking Hermione

Tom's Plan Uncovered

I spun around to see Tom's tall figure standing over me, rage contorting his handsome features into something demonic.

"You tried to run away from me again?" He said, barely controlling his rage. His eyes roved over me, I was a complete mess. He looked at my leg and his eyes widened.

"What the fuck have you done to yourself?" He knelt, snatching up my leg in his ice cold grip and with all the professionalism of a rookie doctor tore my cloak aside.

He whistled through his teeth. "Do you have a death wish?" He snarled. "Your leg looks about ready to fall off."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?" I objected. But looking down at my blotchy leg, now sporting a sickly shade of purple, I realised Tom wasn't far from the truth.

As if realizing it too, Tom stood up, grabbing me unexpectedly by the upper arm. "I guess what you wanted worked." He said coldly, hauling me to the door of the Hospital Wing. "That is, if you nurture some kind of pathetic desire to remain a crippled patient for your remaining years at School."

He knocked sharply at the door, his iron clad grip almost lifting me off the ground.

"What in Merlins name..." Madam Pomfrey opened the door to see Tom first, and then me, half on the ground half in the air.

"Hermione needs urgent medical attention." Tom said to her, releasing his grip so that I came down to my feet painfully. "Her leg wound has reopened, somehow. I think it was self inflicted."

"It was not!" I said in outrage.

Trust Tom to only talk in a torrent of damn lies, right?

"Come in, then." Madam Pomfrey opened the door revealing the dimly lit Hospital . "How long have you been walking on it, Hermione?" Madam Pomfrey said sharply. She conjured a tourniquet out of thin air and bent, fastening it just above my knee.

"For a few hours now." I said quietly.

"A few hours." Tom repeated. "Hermione for fuck sake."

"Language, Mr Riddle!" Madam Pomfrey snapped. "This is not the Slytherin Common Room!"

"No shit." Tom muttered.

"I'm going to get a wheelchair for you, Miss Granger." Madam Pomfrey raised her voice an octave, "We need to get you to a bed without you using your leg and causing further spreading of the poison through your body."

"That's hardly necessary." Tom said. The next thing I knew one of his arms was beneath my knees, the other supporting my back. "I can carry her."

"That... works too." Madam Pomfrey said hesitantly, beginning to walk off.

"Does it, though?" I gritted my teeth.

"Yes." Tom said lowly, kicking open the other door with his foot. "It does."

"This bed down here." Madam Pomfrey called from the far end of the room.

Tom walked me down to the bed, taking care to walk slightly slower as if hoping to increase my discomfort. It worked. Finally, he walked into the small room and laid me on the bed, Madam Pomfrey instantly shooing Tom off like some irksome fly.

"Out the way Mr Riddle! You're so tall you take up the entire room."

I started to laugh and then stopped immediately as a searing pain flashed through my leg. Madam Pomfrey was cleaning the wound with a large bottle of what looked like muggle Methylated Spirits. I sucked in a deep breath, my vision beginning to splinter. It hurt less to just have my leg open and bleeding, this was agonizing.