Breaking Hermione

Hermione Rising

I stormed out of The Three Broomsticks, the wind whistling around me. The day was absolutely freezing, but I didn't care. My hair was wild, flying out behind me, adrenaline burning enough heat through me to make the cold seem entirely irrelevant.

I kept walking. The streets of Hogsmeade were vacant, quite odd for a little village. Then again, no one in their right mind would want to be outside on a day like this. I was alone once again. I focused my breathing, paying attention to my shadow cast over the pavement beneath my feet. I didn't look up until I ran into someone.

"So you thought you'd make a spectacle of me, did you?"

I took two steps back, looking up. Tom Riddle stood directly in front of me, tall and dressed in his long black uniform robe. He must have apparated, there was no human explanation for how fast he moved.

"Did you really expect anything less?" I snarled. "Why are you out here, Tom? Whatever the hell it is get it over and done with. Because you're not doing anything right now except wasting my precious time."

"Your precious time." Tom repeated. "Because you're not on your own time, are you?"

A chill trickled down my spine. I didn't like what he was implying. Could he be aware of my mission? How the hell could he know?

I quickly began walking ahead, keen to put some real distance between the pair of us but Tom was tall, and kept pace with infuriating ease.

"Don't walk away from me." Tom snatched my right arm in a vice like grip, pulling me towards him and then suddenly my spare hand moved of it's own accord.

SMACK.

Before I could even think, I smacked Tom in the face hard enough for him to stumble back.

"KEEP YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME." I yelled. Nearby, birds in a tree took off in fright. My hand burned, the impact enough to leave a blotchy mark on my skin.

To my sheer astonishment Tom started to laugh, his pale face splitting into a wide smile.

"I find it highly amusing that me touching you is considered an offence, but who is it that consumes your mind, lives in it as though it were merely an extension of my own? Me. If I were you, I'd be more angry about that. Because if you take over the mind of a person, you have effectively taken over them."

"Wow." I said sarcastically, slamming a hand to my forehead. "You've got me! Someone save me! The mindless lunatic Tom Riddle is taking me over." I threw myself down on the ground and beat the earth with a fist.

When I stood back up, Tom, who was looking as far from impressed as you could possibly get, raised an eyebrow. "Did you get dropped on your head as an infant?" He demanded, staring down at me with those emotionless eyes. "Did mummy and daddy not hug you enough?"

"My parents," I said, with a steel edge to my voice, "You don't get to talk about."

How dare Tom Riddle even mention them at all. My parents from my time were in Australia, and it was all his fault that I even had to modify their minds to begin with, the inhuman bastard.

"Your reference to time," I began, careful of what words I chose, "What exactly did you mean?"

Tom flashed a wicked smile. "I think you already know the answer to that. After all," He said, staring me down like a animal that had cornered its prey, "You're wearing the wretched thing around your neck right now, aren't you?"

My hand reflexively reached for the chain of the Time Turner.

"It's not anything important." I said with a brave stab at carelessness, "It's simply a mundane object now."