Breaking Hermione

The Untruth Of Love?

I woke up with a side splitting headache. At first, I thought someone had inflicted some kind of blunt force trauma to my skull, an idea brought to life by the sight of Tom Riddle sitting in the visitors chair directly beside my bed. I instantly got the impression he had been sitting there there for quite some time, just watching me sleep.

"What the hell did you to do me?" I blurted, sitting up in a panic.

"What are you talking about?" Tom's eyebrows creased, a perfect imitation of concern. "I've done nothing to you."

I put a hand to my head gingerly, all the while feeling Tom's gaze honing in on me.

"What is it?" His eyes narrowed, first roving over my bandaged arm and then back to my face again.

I looked at him. It took some effort because he was sitting in a rather bright beam of sunlight that was hurting my eyes. Not to mention his dark eyes were very intense, it was hard to look away.

"My- head- hurts." I gasped. "Can you close that curtain?"

Tom stood, and within seconds had drawn the opened curtain closed bathing the room in darkness once again.

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey." He told me, walking out of my tiny room and coming back mere moments later with Hogwarts school nurse.

I closed my eyes, listening to the pair of them rattle off medical terms I wouldnt have the slightest hope of understanding. I was just drifting into a semi comatose state when I was gently roused awake by Madam Pomfrey's hand on my arm.

"You've sustained heavy injuries from your fall, Hermione. The strange thing is, I have medicine to treat such things. But your head pain is seemingly without cause. I have never seen anything quite alike it in all my years treating students here at Hogwarts."

"That makes no sense." Tom said sharply. "How can you not treat this? Is it beyond your expertise?"

"I dare say you'll find nothing outside my area of expertise, Mr Riddle." Madam Pomfrey didn't sound too polite, and I didn't blame her. Tom, more often than not, had the tendency to be a real jerk.

"So what is happening to Hermione?" Tom's voice was pleasant enough, but even in my pain induced haze I could make out the underlying threat within his tone. Madam Pomfrey sounded as if she was far out of her depths.

"I would greatly appreciate you not to comment on what you do not understand." Madam Pomfrey told Tom sharply. "You don't know anything about this, so don't pretend you do."

"Really?" Tom asked. "I don't think so."

I closed my eyes.

"That is a ridiculous remark." Madam Pomfrey put her hands on her hips, looking utterly resigned. "What would you know about any of this?"

"I know that you are clearly not qualified for your job if you couldn't clearly see this is the direct result of Dark Magic." He said coldly. "The signs are obvious. If an Unforgivable Curse is used or suffered by someone who hasn't much experience in it, then it can possibly inflict moderate to severe backlash. It is rare, I admit."

"You're suggesting I am familiar with Dark Magic?" Madam Pomfrey said eventually, clearly affronted. "I have never-"

"I thought that knowing the basic theorem of Dark Magic was the criteria for your job position? After all, a lot of students fall victim to Dark Magic during practical Defence Against The Dark Arts classes. I know for a fact that the Nurse at Durmstrang knows how to treat those affected by the Dark Arts."

"Well, you might find yourself better suited to that School, then." Madam Pomfrey snarled.

Tom stood, walking over to the window.