Hermione woke up slowly. She felt like her head was twice as big as usual. Disoriented, she groped around her, opened her eyes, only to close them again immediately; the brightness seemed to shoot straight into her brain like an arrow. What had happened? Why was she lying in her bed and not feeling rested as usual? With a groan she opened her eyes again.
"You are awake."
The cold voice immediately drove away any tiredness that was still in her. Horrified, Hermione sat up in her bed: "Riddle! What are you doing in my room?"
"Waiting for you to finally wake up," he replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He closed the book which he had read until just now, stood up and slowly but surely walked over to her. Nervously, Hermione moved to the side as he sat down next to her on the edge of the bed without being asked.
"Tell me, Hermione," he demanded, his eyes fixed on her with severity, "How is it that you let yourself be caught by someone like Avery?"
For a moment Hermione was confused, but then the pictures of the previous evening came back. Like a nightmare, the grinning face of Avery appeared before her, his lustful moans, his hand that ruthlessly tore through her clothes. Seized by sudden nausea, Hermione pressed one fist to her mouth while the other buried itself in her blanket. The last thing she remembered was that Tom Riddle of all people had appeared. What had happened after that?
"I hate to repeat my question," Tom's voice cut sharply through her thoughts, "How did you get into such a pathetic situation?"
Hermione swallowed the lump down her throat before turning to him. Did he really blame her? Shaking her head, she hissed, "Shouldn't you be asking yourself why one of your lackeys is treating a lady this way?"
"No", came the simple answer, as if the question was completely superfluous. "Him I understand. I don't understand you."
"Him you understand," repeated Hermione incredulously. "You understand why a man approaches a woman by force? Do you have any idea what happened there yesterday? He was–," she stopped. Why did she hesitate to just say it? It was not as if she could undo it if she did not talk about it. She raised her chin a little bit. "He raped me! How can you understand that?"
Trembling, she watched an insidious grin appear on Riddles face. He actually had the audacity to laugh about it. She had to fight the urge to kill him on the spot.
"He did nothing at all," Tom finally said with a patronising smile. "This knight in shining armour here," he added with an ironic gesture to himself, "has defended your honour, fair maiden.
"You... what?" Hermione exhaled sharply. She could not remember what had happened after Riddle appeared, but the fact that she did not feel any different apart from her headache told her that he was probably telling the truth. Tom Riddle had saved her. Her breath quickened. She did not want to know what his reasons might have been.
"Hermione," Tom caught her attention again. "Look at me. Just because I understand why Avery wanted to do this doesn't mean I approve. I would never let any man touch you. And if I have to, I will defend your honour time and time again."
She returned his gaze. His dark eyes looked at her so open and sincere like she had never seen before. He spoke the truth. But why? Why did he care so much for her honour? He had implied more than once that he would take her body by force just to break her will. A cold shiver ran down her spine. She was grateful for his help, as unwilling as she was to admit it. The night before she had already felt a strange relief when he had appeared. Where had this certainty come from that he would help her? He had done nothing before to suggest that he cared for her.
"Do you care for me?" she formulated the burning question. She just could not believe it. What was she missing?
"Why, yes," Tom replied without hesitation, "Of course I care about you."
As if to underline his words, he reached for her face and pulled her into a tender kiss. Confused, Hermione let him do it. Something was wrong here; something was wrong with him. And what was even more frightening: Something was wrong with her! As if she had no control over her body, she leaned against him, snuggled up against his chest while he put his arms around her. This friendly touch, the physical contact with another person who was not currently threatening her, was so contrary to her experience the night before that she was even willing to forget that it was Tom Riddle who was comforting her.
And she needed comfort.
"I'd really like an answer to my question now," Tom whispered to her after some time.
Reluctantly, Hermione interrupted the pleasant snuggle. "Question?"
"How it could ever have come to this. How did Avery manage to back you into a corner like that?"
Ashamed, Hermione hung her head. "I was... inattentive. I mean, I could tell something was wrong, but I ignored my instincts. That’s why I had my wand in the wrong hand when Avery came round the corner. He's really quick with his Expelliarmus. Well, what good am I without the wand? I may not be as weak as other women, but... Avery's pretty strong."
"Careless, eh?" murmured Tom and rubbed his chin.
Confused, Hermione blinked. What did he mean by that question? Why did he make her feel as if she had done something wrong? Before she could formulate the question, Tom had pulled her into his arms again and stroked her back tenderly. "That won't happen again, will it? You'll take better care and be on your guard in future, won't you, Hermione?"
He stopped caressing her. "There won't be a second such incident, right?" he said and it didn't sound like a question. His hand moved to her head, where he reached for her hair and jerked it down, forcing her to look at him. "You will never again show weakness in front of another man, will you, Hermione?
Hermione understood at once. Of course, how could she have thought for a second that he really cared for her for her own sake? Trying not to cry out in pain, she replied, "If I can prevent it, I certainly won’t."
His grip became tighter and now a painful sound escaped her. His previously warm, open look became hard. "That is not enough for me. It will. Never. Happen. Again."
"What do you want from me?" Hermione hissed angrily, "Do you think I enjoyed it?"
"I see we're getting nowhere here," Tom said and let her go. She quickly moved away from him, but without letting him out of her sight. His voice was ice cold when he finally continued after a long pause, "You belong to me, Hermione. You leave me no other choice here. Feel honoured, dear. From this day forward, you are Tom Riddle's girlfriend. This way, everyone will know it would be unwise to lay a finger on you."
"What?"
The cold did not leave his eyes as he grinned at her. "Why so surprised? If you can't defend your own honour, then I'll have to do it. Or did you really think I would let some other man defile my toy?"
"I am not an object!" Hermione growled at him angrily and jumped out of bed. She could not believe that Riddle would stoop to pretending to have a relationship with her just so he could be the only one torturing her. Did men during this time really still think that they were free to decide the lives of women?
"Would you rather I use my toy now, play all the games I feel like playing until it is completely broken? Is that what you want?"
While Tom threw these questions at her, he walked towards her step by step until he finally came to a halt right in front of her. His gaze was still icy cold, and that was what told Hermione he was not joking. She did not need a vivid imagination to understand exactly what he intended to do with her, his toy. She swallowed. Perhaps it was better for now to bring out the submissive Hermione again.
"Tom," she whispered softly, as she lowered her forehead against his chest, "That's not what I meant."
The triumphant grin on his face escaped her as he closed his arms around her. "I never really thought so, either, dear. So, what do you say? Will you do me the honour of becoming my girlfriend?"
"With pleasure."
As if to seal her fate, Tom kissed her again, full of passion and devotion, but she clearly felt that he was almost bursting with self-satisfaction. Determined, she returned the kiss. He might have won this battle, but the war was far from over!
***
"Hermione!"
Surprised, she looked up from her teacup. Abraxas had just stepped into the small study and, as soon as he noticed her, came towards her with hurried steps. Without waiting for her to ask him, he sat down next to her on the sofa and with his hands grasped hers. "Hermione, thank Merlin, you are well.
Hermione was grateful that there was no one else in the small room but them. She preferred that none of her classmates knew about the incident. She effortlessly put a warm smile on her lips; this young man here at least honestly expressed his concern.
"Abraxas, good morning. How is it that you have learned of my troubles?"
Without letting go of her hands, he explained, "When Tom returned last night with you in his arms, I was still awake. He sounded worried when he went looking for you, so I couldn't just go to bed. And, by Merlin, you were miserable to look at. Tell me, what happened? Tom wouldn't tell me a thing."
The idea that Tom Riddle had carried her through the castle in his arms made Hermione shudder anew. And what would she tell Abraxas? How she knew this honourable man - and if she judged the rules of the time correctly - he would immediately challenge Avery to a duel if he learned the truth. She chose the simplest lie she could think of. "I must have bitten off more than I can chew. I studied for so long yesterday that my body was very unhappy with me. I am afraid I must confess that I fainted. Judging by the headache I woke up with today, I must have hit my head somewhere when I fell."
If possible, the expression on his face became even more worried. "Oh, Hermione, you must take better care of yourself. Your academic interest is fine, but what's the best education when you're halfway to your sickbed?"
Gratefully, Hermione squeezed his hands. "Your concern for me honours you, Abraxas. And I am truly happy that you are so open to sharing it with me. We haven't been so close lately, and I've missed our conversations."
It was only when Abraxas turned deep red that it occurred to Hermione that her words might almost be considered a confession of love in 1944. Blushing, she quickly added, "You're a precious friend and I wouldn't want to be without you."
Despite her clarification, Abraxas needed a few more moments before he could look her in the eyes again. Then, however, his confidence had obviously returned with greater strength. He brought both her hands to his lips and whispered almost inaudibly, his eyes fixed on her intensely, "And you are my precious friend. You are a woman that any man would wish to have at his side. If it were up to me, believe me, Hermione, I'd like to be more to you than just a good friend."
Overwhelmed by this confession, Hermione stared at him. She had not expected Draco Malfoy's grandfather to confess his love to her. And where did that suddenly come from? Had he not deliberately ignored her in the last weeks, or at least treated her less warmly after his new master, Riddle, had put a short leash on him? Where did the change of heart come from that he now resisted his master a bit?
Hermione was spared to find an answer to this question, but she was not at all happy about it. In the middle of this more than intimate scene, Tom Riddle of all people entered. His eyes instantly fell on their intertwined hands and red faces. The usual noncommittal smile that had previously adorned his face disappeared, giving way to an expressionless mask that barely concealed his anger. Hermione almost thought his eyes were glowing red, but when she blinked to see more clearly, everything was back to normal.
"Abraxas," he greeted his companion, who, at the sight of Tom, turned white as a sheet and immediately released Hermione's hands. "And Hermione. I see you have resumed your old friendship. What happy occasion."
"Tom, I didn't want to–," Abraxas started, obviously being afraid of his own courage after all.
Tom did not let him finish. "No, really, I'm glad that you no longer have negative feelings towards Hermione here. It makes it so much easier for me to tell you, my best friend, that Hermione agreed to be mine this morning."
His expressionless mask changed into a radiant smile at his last words and he put a hand on Hermione's shoulder in a loving gesture.
She swallowed hard, then put a hand on his and nodded. "Yes, dear, good friend, I couldn't bear the thought of Tom's best friend being angry with him for his relationship with me.
If possible, Abraxas became even paler. Visibly struggling with the words, he finally stammered, "Oh, what happy news. I congratulate you; you have conquered a truly outstanding witch in Hermione. And I congratulate you, Hermione, though it should come as no surprise to anyone that even our head boy couldn't resist your charm."
Awkwardly, Abraxas rose to shake hands with Tom to congratulate him.
With a kind nod, he took his hand. "Thank you, my good friend. I very much hope that all other men will honour our bond as much as you do. I could not forgive if anyone approached her with intentions other than friendship."
Hermione immediately understood that Tom meant these words as a warning to Abraxas, and so did he. With a hasty bow, he said goodbye. She wished he had never said what he did to her. She wished that his feelings were different. Even though he would be one of the first Death Eaters, and his family would be guilty of various cruel crimes, Abraxas was still by far the most decent man here. He gave her sincere friendship.
Now that Tom Riddle had made his point and Abraxas had revealed his feelings, she would at last become the reason why his loyalty might begin to waver. She prayed that her friendship with him would not leave any lasting damage, that it would not change the course of the future.
What would happen if Tom Riddle one day openly stood against her? Would Abraxas stay by his side?