Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Somewhere in Time	By : serpentinred Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 64471 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 28
- 29
- 30
A/N: Huge thanks to my beta, tormented eyes! Special thanks to Nerys for the idea throwing and looking over the chapter to make sure everything seemed logical. Many, many thanks to those of you who read, rated, and especially those of you who reviewed: Lady Miya, magentasouth, Nerys, Abyss, Mr. Galion, and Aviendha!

Review replies can be found here: http://serp-replies.livejournal.com/

Disclaimer: Hermione’s Astronomy paper was completely made up by yours truly except for certain constellation names, such as Circinus. By no means am I claiming that anything said in it is true and can be used as references. I am taking liberties with what wizard folks can and cannot do. With that said, I am assuming that they will know more than the common Muggle and are able to create telescopes that can see things that are further away and so on and so forth.

~-0-~
Chapter 29
Heaving a deep breath, Hermione resolutely walked up to him and stared at him. His eyes narrowed for the slightest second before it was covered with impassivity again.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked.
Yes, because we are so unfamiliar with one another that we have to resort to surnames now, she thought sarcastically. However, now was not a good time to get annoyed about that.
"I need to talk with you." She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, keeping her eyes on the tip of his nose.
"Again?" he questioned her dryly.
"... Yes."
He tilted his head to one side and gazed at her mockingly, "And why should I comply with your wishes?"
"This is important!"
"As you've always said," he scoffed.
"And I've never lied about that," she said defensively.
"What you consider important might not hold any significance to me at all, Miss Granger," he replied, the faintest touch of coolness entering his voice.
Hermione had an inkling of an idea that he was referring to what she had wanted to talk to him about last night. She certainly did not need him to tell her that he did not find Draco a significant being at all; she knew his thoughts about the blond already.
"It concerns the both of us."
"Does it really?" he asked almost conversationally. "But that still doesn't mean that I might be interested in listening to it." He took a step backwards. Afraid that he might take a leave on her, she moved closer to prevent him from doing so. He tilted his head sideways. "My, my. Aren't you quite comfortable standing in a corridor all alone with your supposed rapist."
It was the most inappropriate moment, but his words brought back Ginny's words, and her face promptly turned beet red.
She threw up her hands in the air out of frustration. "Do you have to be so difficult?"
He raised his eyebrow at her reaction, and the smirk that appeared on his face was so infuriating and ... so pleased that it made the redness on her face turn a few shades darker.
"Listen," she said, changing the subject altogether, "I haven't told Harry about ... what happened last night."
"Oh?" he asked, very much amused, which made a twinge of nervousness run through Hermione's body.
"Yes," she replied. "They're bound to do something rash if they found out, and there's no point pulling them into situations that only concerns you and me. And ... it's NOT funny!"
He stopped his soft chuckles and eyed her. "Au contraire, Miss Granger. I find it veryinteresting." He leaned slightly forward. "I'm not bothered by the idea of them finding out about the truth."
"If they find out—"
"Not my problem," he cut in.
"Of course it is! The last thing they would do is to let it pass without taking any actions," she explained in a hurry. "If they find out about it—"
"I haven't had a chance to duel Mr. Evans during class yet. This might prove to be a wonderful opportunity," Tom remarked, interrupting her words and straightening up.
Hermione ogled at him.
You'll have more than a couple of chances to do that in the future. This time around, however ...
Ever since they arrived in the past, Hermione had been thinking about the problem of the twin cores. If they had to duel during class, Priori Incantatem might happen again. However, Hermione also took into consideration that Harry had used the Elder wand to fix his old wand. Therefore, there was also the possibility that the connection between his and Tom's wand was broken during the process. Unfortunately, if her theory was correct, Harry would never stand a chance against Tom.
"And it might be a nice change if Mr. Malloy tries to hex me."
"You can't be serious," Hermione said immediately.
"Does it look like I'm joking?" he asked calmly. "He hadn't once raised his wand at me throughout the last few months. I would certainly be surprised if he actually gathered enough courage to do that. But of course, I think I'm overestimating him when it comes to valiance. He is a Slytherin after all." His lips curved upwards, presumably amused by what he had just said.
"He knows that you have the professors wrapped around your fingers," she retorted, standing up for her friend.
He laughed. "Do you really think that that's the reason why he hasn't stood up to me, Hermione? If you do, I have to say that I've thought too highly of your intelligence. I haven't told the professors about Slytherins and Gryffindors secretly dueling one another, have I?"
"That's because it concerns your own House-mates."
"Did that make any sense to you at all?" he asked, tilting his head and with curiosity written on his face. "With the professors 'wrapped around my fingers,' as you have so charmingly called it, wouldn't I be able to persuade them that it was purely the Gryffindors' fault?"
He smiled when she remained silent.
"It's pretty obvious that Mr. Malloy's afraid of me, as much as you and he wanted to deny it," Tom said, almost as if he were speaking to himself more than to her. "The thought of him standing up to me is as laughable as it is futile."
"The rest of the Slytherins will undoubtedly hex him if he tries to attack you," she answered.
"Oh?" Tom asked, surprise and amusement very apparent on his features. "Are you saying that Mr. Malloy might defeat me in a wizard's duel?"
Eh ... fat chance of that happening, Hermione thought with a grimace.
"Interesting, Miss Granger. Very interesting," he murmured, like he was really contemplating on challenging Draco to a duel.
"I didn't mean that," she quickly corrected. "I meant that if he tried to hex you ... the younger Slytherins all adore you. They will jinx Draco before he waves his wand."
He raised an eyebrow at her, his face back to its expressionless state.
"We wouldn't want that to happen now, would we? Or else our little Gryffindor might come to his rescue again," he commented mockingly.
"That's beside the point," she replied.
She shifted her eyes to the side as what situation her "rescue" had landed her in floated to the surface of her mind. Unsuccessful in her attempt to fight back a blush and not noticing his coldness, she looked at him again. Something flashed through his gaze when he took in her demeanor.
"It's pointless ... if they do try to duel you. And you're not a person who would waste time on pointless things," she said.
"Oh?" he asked with a faked thoughtful expression. "Since when have you become an expert on my personality, Hermione? I never knew victims become so intent on learning about their rapists."
If she had any success on controlling the redness spreading across her cheeks, it was defeated by his words again. She mentally whacked herself for letting Ginny analyze her emotions towards Tom.
It sure is easier to stand up to him after I've faced my emotions, Ginny. It sure is, she thought sardonically.
"Mm ... well, I have known you for a while, and I haven't seen you do something without a goal," she replied slowly.
"Thinking a bit too highly of yourself, don't you think, Miss Granger?" he sneered condescendingly.
She gritted her teeth and mentally counted to ten, reining in her temper.
You're asking him for a favor ...
Even though he's saving himself from trouble without Harry and Draco rambling off about how he ... what happened in his room ...
Still, if he chooses to talk, there's nothing you could do about it, and there are no witnesses there to prove that you hadn't been completely willing. And those stinking, sneaky, annoying Slytherins will definitely take the high-and-mighty Lord Idiot's side.
"Besides, why should I cover up for someone who might attack me at any given moment?" he asked.
Hint, hint, Hermione thought sarcastically.
Of course. She kicked him in the groin, so he had to get vengeance by being downright insufferable, but did he honestly think that she would apologize for her actions? After he used Volupta's spell on her? So she might have wanted him touching her, but it did not make him completely right in the situation.
Because a clouded mind makes everything sooo consensual, she thought, and he certainly does not owemean apology for taking away my free will.
She stared at him, a stubborn air surrounding her which caused him to raise an eyebrow.
"Seems like our conversation has come to an end, then. Good day, Miss Granger," he remarked, stepping backwards and preparing to walk around her.
"Wha—Wait!"
She took a step forward and grabbed on to his sleeve. His eyes flickered over to her hand, and with a harsh move, he pulled his robe away.
"I would appreciate it if you stop wasting my time," he hissed coldly. "Just in case you didn't know, I have better things to do than to stand here and listen to your nonsensical gibberish, which I don't care about. Feel free to send my regards to Mr. Evans and Mr. Malloy."
With a nasty grin, he strode down the corridor, but she caught up to him.
"I—" She paused in her words, nibbling her lower lip, half of her mind still unwilling to apologize for something she felt she had not done wrong.
"Or perhaps you wished for me to speak with the two of them right now?" he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face.
Although that look caused fury to rise, it also forced her to make a decision.
"I'm sorry for kicking you."
"Pardon?"
Her eyes flashed and her hands rolled up into fists, but she had to control her temper. She just had to, no matter how much she wanted to pummel his face until his nose resembled that of what he would have for the future.
"I'm sorry," she said a bit louder.
"I still can't hear you, Granger," he told her, his voice as impassive as his face.
Suppressing her rage, she repeated herself through gritted teeth, "I'm sorry."
"Is that the tone of voice you use for your apologies? I do find it weird that people would accept them then because it sounds awfully forced and insincere."
Someone get her a troll's club. She needed to bash someone in the head with it. And no, the Killing Curse would not work in this case because she would not get the satisfaction of hearing him scream again.
She inhaled and exhaled deeply. She should have taken a Calming Draught or something similar before she came after him. It was that obvious to her. And to think that she enjoyed his company when they were debating about school topics.
Ugh.
"I'm sorry for kicking you," she said, forcing it to sound as sincere as possible and hoping he would not make her say it again. She could not guarantee that she could keep her temper in check if he did.
Fortunately, a satisfied smirk graced his features. "Somewhat acceptable."
She let out a sigh of relief. "I told them mostly the truth, but I didn't tell them about ... that."
"That I supposedly raped you?" he suggested "helpfully," which made her turn red from both annoyance and embarrassment again.
"I didn't go through too many details with them in regards to what we've talked about ..."
"Since that undoubtedly led to the 'rape scene,'" he mocked.
She was pretty sure her irritation level had just increased by at least two levels, and so, she no longer trusted herself to speak without snapping out at him.
He had better not wish for her to apologize to him for calling him a rapist because she refused to admit that the whole episode in his room was completely consensual.
"If you want me to ... corroborate with your lies," he spoke slowly and softly, after a moment of silence, "you'd have to make it worth my while, Miss Granger."
Her head snapped up, surprised because he was finally willing to oblige to her request. Wanting something in return had been expected, since Ginny and she had talked about it earlier.
Merlin forbid Lord Voldemort from doing something for free.
"No objections?" he questioned her almost tauntingly.
"It depends on what you are asking for," she said, tilting her head a bit higher with more confidence than she really felt.
His fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist before she realized it. With a gentle tug, she was in his embrace, his arm encircling around her waist as his free hand tilted her face upwards.
"Accommodation," he whispered against her lips.
His words were ambiguous, but his intentions were obvious. He gave her a moment for the word to sink into her mind. His closeness made her breath hitch, and she could not recover fast enough to say "no" to him.
Not that rejection would pass through her mind if she waited long enough. It was never an option.
He smiled at that realization and closed their distance. Seconds later, she found herself lost in their kiss as his hands gently touched the back of her neck, causing goosebumps to form across her skin. Her previous aggravation was pushed away by the gentle way his tongue was titillating hers and was replaced by the ticklish feeling of longing that sizzled from where their lips were connected to the rest of her body.
It's only to fulfill my side of the deal with him. Nothing more, nothing less, she told herself as she suppressed as sigh from escaping her throat.
His hand slid down her spine, causing her to shiver lightly against him. His chuckle vibrated between them. Gently, but firmly, he pushed her backwards, until she was leaning against the wall. His body molded into hers, until there was not a breadth of space between them, and she used whatever remaining willpower she had to stop herself from looping her arms around his neck.
She lost track of time. It was far too difficult for her to pull away with him. Every inch of bare skin that came in contact with his seemed to have a memory of its own, and every second, a new flame was ignited upon each and every cell.
Memories of what he could do to her made her shy and excited at the same time, and without meaning to do so, her hands gripped onto the front of his robes, wanting to pull him closer.
Her actions made him deepen their kiss, and his hands continued to cause sensations to travel up and down her body. It encouraged her to react, to respond to him, and she released his robes, circling her arms around his neck instead to pull him closer.
However, he chose that exact second to move away from her, his eyes indecipherable as he took in her flustered and lost state.
"Wouldn't want to rape you again, Granger," he finally said, a smirk forming on his lips.
He untangled himself from her, despite the shocked expression on her face, and straightened his robes out.
"I shall consider your offer," he said before he turned around and walked away.
Hermione stared at his retreating back with her mouth slightly open, her lips and brain still a bit numb from his ministrations there and her skin still tingling from his touches. Every part of her body screamed out its craving for him until she finally arrived at a conclusion.
He was, without a doubt, the most manipulative bastard she had ever had the honor of meeting.
~-0-~
"I shall consider your offer."
Ugh. Stupid Dark Lords and their annoying amusement at others' sufferings.
For the next few days, Hermione always felt a sense of anxiety when she saw Harry and Draco, worried that Tom might not keep to his end of the promise. That was, if his ambiguous statement could be considered a promise.
She saw him during mealtimes, and she realized that it would be far too conspicuous if he were to walk up to her and give her a definite answer. However, he had not attempted to find her and give her said answer, which of course, annoyed her to no ends. She suspected that that might actually be one of his intentions.
As if leaving her standing there in the corridors was not enough. The walk back to the Gryffindor tower was one of the hardest journeys she had to take, including the "camping trip" she, Ron, and Harry had to take last year. The colorful terms she had dubbed the Dark Lord would have made those who knew her well enough stare, but those phrases hardly covered the extent of her irritation. No, they really, really did not. She just knew she should have stayed away from grudge-holding, annoying, sadistic, ridiculous, teasing, alluring, mind-numbingly handsome, clever—
Backtrack, backtrack, backtrack, Hermione mentally told herself when she realized what she was thinking. It was downright irksome and disturbing that her mind found it amusing to attach positive adjectives to that unscrupulous Head Boy.
It felt even more unfair to Hermione when she saw him walking around comfortably, as if he had not been affected by their interactions at all.
Perhaps Draco and Harry were correct, and I did damage something with that kick? she thought viciously.
If he truly knew Legilimency and had bothered to tap into her mind, he showed no signs of it at all. He continued to ignore her whenever there were others present, though his lips were always suspiciously drawn into a faint smirk whenever she shot a glare his way.
Ugh, ugh, ugh. She should not care about what he did. She really, really should not. So, therefore, before the rest of the students returned to school, Hermione spent her excess "energy" on the Astronomy paper that was due the week school began. However, the long periods of time she was spending in the library was met with complaints by Draco and Harry.
"Hermione, you've been living in the library for the past five days already!" Draco complained exaggeratedly as they sat in the Great Hall for dinner.
"I sleep in my dorm, Draco. And I do come down here for meals," she replied.
"Are you writing a textbook documenting the movement of Mars across the skies throughout history or something?" Harry asked, shaking his head.
"Professor Apollos required three feet of parchment. I've only done five feet—"
"Only five feet, she says," Draco muttered to Harry who was ogling at her.
"—Professor Apollos had been known to cut the amount he really wants in half because most of the time, students don't do the proper research required to find the necessary information—"
"Which will, of course, bring about the end of the world," Harry commented in a low voice.
"Eh, I think you prevented that, Evans," Draco whispered.
"—I don't want to get a lower grade just because I haven't spent enough time looking through books—"
"Well, one You-Know-Who vanquished and I get thrown back here to find another one," Harry replied with a sigh.
"Well, you do know what that means, don't you?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry glanced at him questioningly.
Draco sniggered. "The true vanquisher is Hermione. She needs to knee him in the groin again."
Harry snorted, and Hermione shot both of them disapproving glares, which simmered them down immediately.
"Now, if you would excuse me, I need to go to the library," she said with a certain finality to her voice and stood up from the table.
The boys immediately began whispering to one another and stopped when Hermione swirled around towards them again. She stared pointedly at the both of them who gulped at the stern look on her face.
"And you two would do well to finish your Astronomy papers, too."
With that, she turned around and left the Great Hall, oblivious to the expressions of relief on Harry and Draco's faces that appeared when she did not nag more at them.
It was only when she was in the corridors, making her way to the library, that she allowed a small smile to grace her features. At least that was one thing that made her happy. Although Harry and Draco would occasionally banter with one another, all in all, she could see that their friendship was slowly growing. Of course, Draco was still no Ron to Harry, but at least they were joking around without throwing insults or threatening to curse each other. It was certainly a huge amount of progress for such a small amount of time.
Perhaps what happened in Tom's room did have some positive outputs.
Eh, wrong train of thought there. She pushed the memories back into the corners of her mind again and concentrated on thinking about her Astronomy paper for the rest of her walk to the library, willing her burning cheeks to cool down.
She sat down at her favorite table, which was located right behind a bookshelf. Yes, Draco had warned her to stay in Madam Pince's sight, but the librarian was so constantly breathing down her neck or scrutinizing her, making it difficult to concentrate. Additionally, this part of the library was also the quietest, allowing her to think properly.
So, with a satisfied sigh, she took out her half-written essay and looked through the contents in there. What she had not told Harry and Draco was the fact that there had been an error. She had somehow documented the wrong sentence and forgotten to take down which book she had read it from. Therefore, she had spent three days searching for the right book.
A total of three hundred and fifty-eight stars (thirty-six of them which are only visible when viewed with the Diananic Telescope) lies in the Circinus constellation. Their alignment with the planet Hutarchinus ensures the balance of the black hole, Lotagim.
Her forehead creased into a frown. She knew that there was definitely something wrong in that last sentence, but which book had she read that from?
"Tsk tsk tsk. Horrible documentation skills, Granger. Did they not teach you how to properly write an essay back at Durmstrang?"
She did not just hear that annoying voice, and there was certainly no one hovering right above her head. When she counted to three, that fury-inducing presence would disperse, and she would be alone at her favorite table.
"Having problems finding the sentence, Granger? It's right over—" A pale finger pointed at the sentence she was previously fussing over. "—here."
She slowly turned her neck around until she was properly glaring at the most annoying Head Boy of the century—no, of the millennium.
"If you haven't noticed, Mr. I Am So Intelligent I Think I Know Everything, that is precisely why I am in the library," she replied through gritted teeth. "What are you doing here?"
She was already frustrated over her mistake. She did not need him to add more wood to the burning fire.
"I was going to find an interesting enough book to read," he replied, gesturing at the humongous tome in his arm.
Stupid bookworm, she thought, her eyes flickering over the book before resuming to stare daggers at him.
"But apparently, you need me to assist you with your essay right now," he finished saying, sliding into the seat next to hers.
"I do not need your help," she snapped.
"Oh?" Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "What does the balance of Lotagim have to do with Circinus's stars and Hutarchinus?"
"I already know that I've copied that sentence wrong, which was why I was looking through books until you've so courteously disturbed me," she replied.
"Really?" he asked. He pointed to another sentence. "What about this one?"
A slight blush colored her cheeks red. "I knew that," she muttered as she scratched out said line.
"And the first line on the third paragraph right after that," he continued.
"Stop reading my essay," she growled. She glanced at the sentence he pointed out last. "That line was directly copied from Artemis Longbottom's A Thousand Facts about Circinus. How is that wrong?"
"The book was written by a Longbottom, so the information in there is wrong by default," he answered.
Her temper flared; it was almost as if he had directly insulted Neville, whom she had always had a soft spot for.
"Unfortunately, there are no books in this library written by a Riddle, since it is so obviously a Muggle last name," she blurted out before she could stop herself.
His movement was so quick that her breath caught. He towered over her, fury contorting the features of an angel into the outraged face of a demon.
"Say that again, Granger," he commanded softly, his voice contrasting immensely with that look on him.
She swore his eyes were red right now. She did not dare to keep staring into them because she felt as she would suffocate at any given moment right now. She could not lie: She was beyond frightened right now. For the first time, she fully appreciated what Harry had to go through because, Merlin's pants, she wanted to run for cover.
"I ... I ... I was just ... just joking," she stammered. "I'm ... I mean ... Granger's a Muggle surname, too. It ... it's not too big of ... a deal."
A frightening sneer twisted his features.
"So typical of you, Granger, to assume things that you have no idea about," he hissed.
Hermione swallowed.
"'Not too big of a deal,' you say," he continued, grabbing her chin and forcing her head upwards, "because every Muggle—"
He spat the word out with so much hatred that it made her wince.
"—parent is so disgustingly pleasant and caring."
Talk about a bad childhood, she thought to herself.
If it were someone else, this should have been the cue for her to ask, but she had a feeling that he might become even more infuriated if she did. Like sticking a needle into a hand grenade.
Eh ... I don't feel particularly suicidal today. Definitely not.

She nibbled her lower lip, feeling his magic sizzling in the air, unrestrained. It showed quite clearly how angry he was at the moment, and she was surprised Madam Pince had not come running this way to find out what was wrong. The strength of his power was frightening, perhaps even scarier than that time during Hunting Day, when she misunderstood his intentions and had gotten him hurt. She stilled for a second, wondering if he had cast spells around them to prevent others from running in on them. She shook that thought away, deciding to keep her concentration on getting out of this situation first.
"Not ... all pure-blood fathers are nice," she replied timidly, keeping her eyes focused on his nose, "just like not all Muggle fathers are horrible either."
He remained silent as he scrutinized her for a moment. Then, he spoke, his face hovering directly above hers with his eyes darker than usual because of the lack of light.
"Ridiculous acting and covering up skills, Granger. Considering the fact that you continue to say that you come from Durmstrang and deny knowing things about me, every other sentence of yours seems to indicate otherwise."
She would have released a sigh of relief if he were not still holding on to her face. His voice was a lot calmer than before, and he obviously had his temper back under control. Additionally, he had been directly or indirectly inquiring about their backgrounds since the first week they had arrived here. This was something she was familiar with and had no problem with.
"Must you attach some form of alternate meaning to everything I say? Will it make you feel better if I answer your questions with bland answers such as 'yes' or 'no?'" she asked mockingly, raising her eyebrows at him.
His lips curved into a soft smile. "That will be excruciatingly painful," he assessed, undoubtedly imagining her like that. "For the both of us, I would say, since it is virtually impossible for you to not speak."
Her anger would have been ignited again if she had not just witnessed the way his expression could immediately go from "charmingly pleasant" to "murderously dangerous."
What's with the mood swings?
When and if she saw Harry, she was going to give him a big hug. A big, big hug. What he had to endure was not appropriate for the faint-hearted or the mentally weak. That much was obvious. One could not possible attach a standard to Tom Marvolo Riddle, and dealing with him was harder than she had ever imagined.
"I ... well, Riddle isn't a common wizard name."
"It isn't," he conceded with a short nod. "But for you to compare Muggle fathers with pure-blood fathers instead of mothers or parents ... I do find that suspicious and makes me wonder exactly how much you know about me."
Her face turned red. "You can't possibly accuse me of stalking you."
He smirked. "Guilty conscience there, Granger?"
"No," she immediately replied. "It just sounded like an accusation to me."
"That thought hadn't even crossed my mind," he said. He released her chin and placed his hand on the table. "You know something about me. Even before you arrived at Hogwarts."
"That's just ridiculous," she lied, rolling her eyes for the added effect. "Have you been to Durmstrang? Have you been schooled anywhere else except for Hogwarts? I think not. So why should I know anything about you?"
"That," he said, "is what I want to know. Strange for you to know that my deceased father was a Muggle." A tinge of sarcasm marked his words and expression.
"I've come to understand that the rumor mill at Hogwarts sometimes hold figments of truth," she answered vaguely.
He raised an eyebrow. "It might have been an excellent lie, Granger." He leaned closer to her, until his lips were nearly touching her ear. "Except everyone here knows that I am an orphan. Pray tell why would they talk about my dearest father," he breathed, sending delicious yet frightful little tingles down her spine.
"That's ... what I want to know," she stuttered, his presence making it hard to speak normally.
"Oh?" His lips came in contact with her earlobe, making her heart skip a beat. "Did they tell you how ... upset I was about his horrible, horrible death?"
She was positive about it. There were obvious hints of humor in his voice, as if he felt that it was some kind of joke to him—well, considering whom she was talking to, he might very well be finding his father's death a joke.
"Did they tell you what a responsible father he was, abandoning my mother because she was magical?" he continued to ask. He straightened himself up. "It was a good thing I hadn't expected too much when I found out he was a Muggle, but of course, he exceeded my expectations. But no matter. He met his rightful end."
She slightly shuddered at the detachment and coldness present in his voice while he spoke about his father's death.
"Muggles," he sneered. "To think that we hide from them when in actuality, they should fear us. They will never understand the true extent of what we can do to them, and we ridiculously allow them to limit our societies."
If she were calmer, she would have found it strange that he had allowed his pretense of liking Muggles and Muggle-borns drop in front of her. However, the condescending way by which he was talking about them reignited her fury.
"The reason why we keep to ourselves is because of the complications that might occur if Muggles know about us," Hermione objected heatedly. "It is not because we feel that we are inferior to them. It is pointless proving if Muggles or wizarding folk are superior because we each have our own ways of living."
"I've forgotten. You support Muggles and Mudbloods," he said, eying her as if she were pathetic.
His actions and words together made her anger flare once more, quickly overtaking her fear. This was the first time he used that derogatory term in front of her, and for some reason, it made her more irritated than when Draco had spoken it.
"You will learn sooner or later, Granger, that we are indeed superior to them," he said. "They do not and will never understand our ways of living. Have you ever wondered why Mudbloods and their parents drift further and further apart from one another? That is because Muggles can never incorporate themselves into our society."
"That is not true," she replied stonily.
"Not true?" he asked, amused. "Are you going to tell me that you have been treated differently? Are you going to tell me that your father had not winced whenever you showed magical abilities? How many times did he attempt to beat the magic out of you? How many times did your Mum had to pull him back away from you? How many times did you cry yourself to sleep because you were considered a weirdo, an outcast in the family? And exactly how many times were you hidden away because your father was ashamed to have you as his daughter?"
"My parents never judged me for what I am. They loved me for who I am, even when they did not understand why strange things happened around me," she answered angrily. "They accepted that perhaps there was something special about me, and contrary to most other Muggle parents, they never attempted to send me to some psychiatrist or tried to beat the magic out of me. Even after I got my letter, our love for one another never weakened. The only reason I spent a lot less time with them was because I had not wanted to place the burden on them. They always made an attempt to spend time with me, despite their busy schedules, and I did not want that for them, but that doesn't mean we are drifting apart."
Tom remained suspiciously silent during her speech, though Hermione was too caught up in her anger to realize it. It was when she stopped talking and he still had not spoken that she acknowledged that something was off. The expression on his face was, to say the least, odd, and she could not even attach a term to it. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, but in no ways showing his emotions, and she felt a cold wave of dread sweep across her body.
"You're a Muggle-born."
~-0-~
A/N: *runs away before she gets murdered*
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Somewhere in Time