Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Masters of Manipulation	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 28506 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Masters of Manipulation

Chapter 4

Hermione ran across the corridor until she reached the statue of the humpbacked witch. She leaned against the wall behind it. It brought back memories of better times, times when Harry had sneaked in and out of Hogsmeade through the secret passageway that was hidden behind the statue and had given Malfoy a heart attack by throwing snowballs and attacking him from underneath his Invisibility Cloak. Merlin, she missed Harry and Ron. It had always been the three of them against Voldemort, and at this moment, that felt like nice even odds. But now, she was on her own, Harry was on his own, and Ron was on his own, too. Lord Voldemort had neatly drawn them apart.

And the odds were definitely in his favour here.

Hermione heard footsteps approaching, fast. She swept out her wand, stepped from behind the statue and hexed … Minerva McGonagall.

‘Oh Godric! I’m sorry,’ she said and held out her hand to pull Minerva back to her feet.

Minerva was slightly dizzy from the impact with the wall after Hermione’s hex had rammed her Shield Charm and had thrown her across the corridor, so she leaned for support on the other girl for a second.

‘I’m so, so sorry. I thought you were …’

‘Tom Riddle,’ Minerva finished her sentence, regaining her composure and straightening out. ‘Are you all right, Hermione? I noticed he spent a considerable amount of time in the back of the classroom, and I was about to go over and check in on you both, but Carefoch held me up.’

‘No, everything is not all right,’ Hermione answered. Her lower lip started to tremble and she felt her eyes filling up.

Minerva gave her an understanding glance and pulled Hermione into a hug.

‘Come, let’s go to the Gryffindor common room. Nobody will be there right now. That way we can talk undisturbed, and you can tell me what is really going on. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore won’t mind if I skip his class.’ And she wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders and led her upstairs.

When they sat down in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was dead sure she wasn’t going to tell Minerva a thing. She couldn’t; she wasn’t allowed. Things were worse enough with Dumbledore and Riddle knowing information about the future. It would be a bad idea to involve another—a really bad, bad idea. No matter how tempting it was to share her worries with a friend. Despite that she hadn't known teenage McGonagall long, she felt a connection to the Head Girl, and obviously, it was vice versa. Otherwise, she wouldn't have come to find and check up on her, a Slytherin no less.

Bad idea, bad, bad, bad, she repeated it like a mantra.

Only her discussion with Riddle came back to mind, and she remembered his views on secrecy and friends. She was about to follow his example and tell no one. Had she really become just as pathetic as him? Surely, she could trust Minerva McGonagall. Her professor was one of the most discrete individuals she ever met and ... she could always reinforce it. The jinx she'd used on the DA parchment was easy to adapt to verbal vows. She'd researched the matter after she'd been totally unsatisfied with the prior results since Marietta had been able to spill her story first before it kicked in. Now, her jinx would definitely stop someone prior to talking.

Oh, what am I thinking? I don't need to curse McGonagall.

So, after Minerva promised her to keep her secret, Hermione told her everything. It was so nice to share her thoughts again with someone else and not feel the burden alone anymore. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend Harry and Ron were sitting across the table from her, and Minerva, as it turned out, was a good listener. She let Hermione talk and occasionally asked a question if there was something she didn’t understand.

‘So Riddle did open the Chamber of Secrets,’ Minerva said, unsurprised. ‘I always suspected, but I could never prove it. Too bad you can’t clear Hagrid’s name, Hermione.’

Hermione nodded her head and continued. By the time she was done telling McGonagall everything about Lord Voldemort, Minerva sat in the couch her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes wide open.

‘He is going to do all that?’ Minerva said weakly. ‘He is going to make those … What did you call them?’

‘Horcruxes. He already has made two.’

‘Two? But that Basilisk only killed Myrtle. I thought you said you needed to kill someone in order to rip your soul apart and create those horrible things?’ Minerva was horrified by the notion.

‘He killed his father and grandparents during the summer holiday,’ Hermione said softly.

‘His father? But he is an orphan.’

‘He is now,’ she said dryly.

‘But the Trace ...?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘No idea how he got around it. I suppose having someone else take the fall for your crimes helps.’

Minerva grumbled. ‘Then we need to do something! We need to stop …’ Realisation dawned on the Head Girl's face. ‘You’re not allowed. You have to sit through this and watch, knowing what is going to happen but unable to stop it.’

Hermione nodded in affirmation. ‘And you can’t let on to anyone that you know, Minerva. We’ll both get sent to Azkaban if someone finds out I told you.’

Minerva nodded, and Hermione suddenly recognised the expression on McGonagall’s face. The youthful, joyous, carefree look Hermione had seen ever since she arrived in 1944 was gone, and it was replaced with the strict, stern look of her Transfiguration professor.

‘Show me this room of yours,’ Minerva said abruptly. ‘If I understand what you’ve told me correctly, Godric’s book might have given you everything you need to solve this problem. And if we can’t stop … What did you say he called himself again?’

‘Lord Voldemort,’ Hermione said dully.

Minerva rolled her eyes at the ceiling. ‘Lord. Really, dream on, Riddle.’

Hermione quickly added, ‘But you can’t use that name.’

‘Lord Voldemort, pfftt …’ Minerva said with a scolding undertone in her voice, while making a dismissive wave with her hand.

‘I mean it, Minerva. You’re not supposed to know that name, remember. If Riddle finds out …’ Hermione anxiously stated.

‘All right, all right, I won’t use that ridiculous name. It’s not like I was yelling it across the courtyard. Please give me some credit, Hermione.’

Hermione apologised, and Minerva continued, ‘So if you can’t stop his majesty here, then we have to get you back home. So you and this Harry Potter boy can stop him there, because I’ll be damned if I am going to sit by and let Riddle win this.’

A determined pair of eyes looked back at Hermione, giving her an encouraging feeling, but also making her realise McGonagall wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Hermione took her to Godric’s room, where Minerva marvelled at all the books present. They talked for a while about their various options. Minerva came up with the idea to use a password for the entrance, so she could enter when she had a free period and Hermione had classes. They decided on ’Lemon Drop’, before they both left to go to their next class. Hermione’s spirit was lifted again, now that she was no longer alone in fighting Teenage Voldemort, and she practically skipped off to her next class—Potions.

For the next couple of days, everything went smoothly for Hermione Evans. She found she could easily cope with the classes of 1944 and was not behind at all, even though she had appeared at Hogwarts when they were already two months into the school year.

For some reason, Tom Riddle had not tried to make good of his threat from the other day, and he did not force her into telling him everything. Instead, he had been avoiding her, and he had looked thoroughly annoyed on the few occasions when she did appear in his vicinity. It struck her as odd, but she was not complaining about that. At least she was able to sleep in relative peace in the Great Hall, not wanting to attract attention to her Secret Facility.

Lestrange and Avery had come to the other day, and they ran in the other direction with a tremendous fear in their eyes every time she came near them. She felt it was very entertaining, because really, she wasn't that scary, right?

On Thursday, Ministerial Officials arrived at the castle and took Nott and his tent with them to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and still the door to the Slytherin common room remained locked. Fred and George Weasley certainly knew how to create a lasting problem.

However, Hermione and Minerva spent all their free time researching the books in Godric’s room. They were busy trying to find a way to return Hermione to 1997. It was when Minerva went through another book written by Salazar Slytherin that Eternity in Time came up again.

‘Are you sure Riddle put a Horcrux in that book?’ she asked. ‘Because from what I’m reading in this one, Salazar was nuts enough to put you in this position himself. I doubt he needed anyone to tell him to support his heir.’

Minerva held out A Nobility of Wizards to Hermione. It was a foul piece of work, all about how Mudbloods and Muggles were spoiling the face of the earth. Hermione put it down after a while. She did not need to read the entire message it contained to know what kind of ignorant racist's arguments he would raise, and she raised her shoulders at Minerva’s question.

‘Somehow, something or someone found a way to overrule the Sorting Hat and talk to me. That takes some serious magical power. Whether it was Riddle or Slytherin I don’t know, but I can't rule out the possibility of it being a Horcrux. And how I felt when I was around that book was quite similar to when I carried the locket.’

‘There are many other magical ways you can influence someone without using your soul,’ said Minerva thoughtfully. ‘We know there isn’t a Horcrux in Godric’s book. We checked. And you said Godric’s book made you feel safe, right? Then maybe Slytherin’s made you feel aggravated.’

Hermione desperately wanted to believe Minerva’s theory, because it would make things so much easier for her if that book would be proven soul-free, but she was still doubtful. ‘We can go around theorising for as long as we want, but I have to get that book back from Riddle and check it for myself.’

‘I don’t think it’s a Horcrux,’ Minerva stated, certain.

Hermione looked at her in disbelief. ‘How come?’

‘Well, Riddle has the book now. If it was a Horcrux, surely he would know. He would recognise one, wouldn’t he?’

Hermione nodded. She had mulled over and gone mad about that idea. The fact that Tom Riddle might be holding on to a book he could read and activate and from which he could also get all the answers about her and the future by simply asking his stupid, little, ripped out soul fragment was something that drove shivers down her spine.

‘But he still questioned you about what happened to Nott. Why didn’t his Horcrux tell him? See, it isn’t one,’ Minerva said triumphantly.

‘He’s avoiding me now,’ Hermione replied uncertainly.

‘Which doesn’t make sense,’ she added. ‘If it was a Horcrux, he would know everything there is to know about you, including where you came from. He would know everything his old self knew. There would be absolutely no need to avoid you. On the contrary, he would be confronting you. I have no doubt in my mind about that. He would want you to fill in the blanks. Yet, he hasn’t tried that at all. And you said yourself the locket did not respond to the presence of the book.’

Hermione considered Minerva’s words. Riddle’s behaviour had been peculiar the last couple of days, to say the least, but Minerva did make some valid observations. She sighed.

‘I can only know for certain what that book is or isn’t if I get it back and check it for myself,’ Hermione stated again.

‘Then you need to find a way to reopen the Slytherin common room, because I doubt Tom will do anything less than sleep on that book as long as he has to keep it hidden in the Great Hall. You’ll never get the book from him there, but you might get a shot at it if he deems his environment safe enough to hide it and leave it there alone for a while.’

Hermione nodded in concurrence. Minerva’s words made sense. As long as Riddle felt insecure about his surroundings, he would not drop his guard for a second. She would not stand a chance in obtaining the blasted book, but how could she ever unlock the twins' …?

She hit her forehead with her hand and looked at Minerva with sheer glee in her face.

‘I know a way to open the door to the common room. I’ll do it tonight.’

That night, Hermione stayed awake again, like she had done or tried to do the first night she had slept in the Great Hall. Another similarity to that first night was that she was holding onto Gryffindor’s book underneath her covers. Until tonight she had deemed it was safer in her Secret Room and had kept it there, afraid Riddle would try to get his book back. But he had not made an effort in that direction, yet. He was probably still busy deciphering Salazar’s written text.

When she was certain everyone was fast asleep, she sneaked out of the Great Hall and went back to the dungeons. She barely avoided a run in with the caretaker of the forties, Apollyon Pringle. The man was just as charming as Argus Filch was in her days. Only he did not have an annoying, prying cat that supported him in his harassment of the students.

Eventually, she made it to the same hidden doorway she had thrown the Weasley Powder at. She could see some cracks in the wall that hadn’t been there before when she had first seen it, and there was definitely grey powder lurking in those cracks. She figured the damage had been done by the efforts of the professors to unlock the doorway.

Hermione looked up and down the corridor again. It was completely vacant. She pulled Infinity in Space out from underneath her pyjama, held the book in front of her, and started thinking: I need this doorway to reopen. I need this hidden door to return exactly as it was before. I need the students of Slytherin House to be able to use their common room again.

A golden glow lit up the book and there was a dash of light. The book’s leaves fluttered by until they reached their predestined page. A golden beam shot out from the page and hit the wall before her. Grey powder blew from the wall, and she coughed when it entered her sinuses. The book’s glow ceased as abruptly as it had done in the past and slammed shut. In front of Hermione, a door was clearly visible in the otherwise blank wall.

‘Finally,’ a familiar voice snarled, ‘I was beginning to wonder whether you would ever get tired of sleeping inside that Hall.’ She felt the tip of Tom’s wand press firmly in the back of her neck. ‘Don’t move, dear. I don’t want to feel obligated to hurt the latest pretty addition to the fine House of Slytherin.’

Hermione growled inwardly. Where on earth had he been hiding?

‘I figured you had found a way to make Gryffindor’s book work ever since that great vanishing act you performed a couple of nights ago,’ Tom said. ‘After all, you did manage to activate Eternity in Time as well. I must say it was very accommodating of you to hand that one over to me.’

His wand tracked her skin to the front of her throat as he stepped right behind her. Hermione froze up when their bodies collided and his arm found its way around her waist. Her breath hitched in her throat when his fingers roamed her waist to find her pyjama’s pocket where her wand was stashed. Teasingly slow, he took her wand from her pocket, taking excellent care in making her feel the movement, so she would know she was defenceless. A flick of his wrist and her wand was gone. Hermione swallowed the huge lump that was forming inside her throat. She felt this was all way too close and intimate to be with the Dark Lord, and as her body tensed up even further, she could imagine the smirk on his face as his breath brushed her cheek.

Apparently, he had caught on to her discomfort and decided to torment her a bit further by pulling her towards him firmly. Hermione gasped and closed her eyes in shock when he sneaked his hand underneath her pyjama shirt and caressed the bare skin of her belly and her side. Slowly, he moved up to her ribcage. His wand was pressed in her cheek to warn her not to fight him as his hand halted right beneath her breast.

‘How nice of you to be at my service,’ Tom whispered in her ear, his breath sending shivers up her spine. ‘Tell me, Mudblood, are you going to be a good girl now?’

Her body trembled in fear, and she could tell he enjoyed it, even without seeing his expression, because he held her even tighter.

‘I warned you in Carefoch’s class that I would make you answer my questions if you didn’t volunteer them to me willingly, Evans,’ he softly said. ‘I guess you have a decision to make on how you want to do this, because to me ... it doesn’t really matter. One way or the other, I will get what I want in the end.’

Abruptly, he broke their contact, moved to her left side and held out his wand-free hand. A relieved sigh escaped her lips.

‘The book, if you don’t mind,’ he ordered, smirking.

Furiously, Hermione glared at him.

Tom sighed and he lazily drawled, ‘Alright, also if you do mind. Now, hand it over.’

The last three words were spat in her direction. Noticing the distinct red gleam in his eyes, she gave him Godric’s book.

His wand still raised towards Hermione, Tom took a step back. He glanced at the book in his hand and opened it with the hand that was holding his wand. Her eyes darted from his wand to his eyes. If he were paying attention to the book, then maybe she could …

‘I would not do that if I were you. I sincerely doubt you’re going to be fast enough.’

Tom eyed her intently for a couple of seconds—a couple of very uncomfortable seconds, but he returned his attention to the leaves of the book and flipped through them. The corners of Hermione’s mouth twitched slightly. The pages were, after all, still blank. He seemed to reach that conclusion also and closed the book.

‘Disappointing, Evans, but you did get some action out of it. Get in there,’ he calmly ordered and nodded with his head into the direction of the hidden door to the Slytherin common room.

Hermione turned pale and did not move. Out here in the corridor, there still was a chance of someone passing by. She really doubted she would get that lucky inside. Her complete lack of compliance made his eyes flash red again, and the hand that was holding onto his wand twitched slightly.

‘I don’t know the password,’ she said quickly upon seeing the movement.

She could tell he barely held back on the curse he was about to cast on her when he told her the password to the Slytherin Dormitories. It was pure-blood.

‘How charming,’ Hermione grudgingly mumbled before she entered the common room, feeling incredibly vulnerable at being alone with him without her wand.

She had never seen the inside of the Slytherin dungeon before, so she took a quick look around. Hermione took it all in with zero enthusiasm. It was, as Harry and Ron had described it to her, dark and gloomy, but perhaps her mood made her think that. She took a few steps further but halted in the middle of the room next to a low, wooden table since she had no idea where Riddle wanted her to go next. Tom swooped in after her, and he stalked right past Hermione’s frozen-to-the-spot figure. He tossed the book on one of the dressers next to a door standing slightly ajar and showing a downward spiralling staircase. On the door was a sign that stated: boys' dormitory.

Alas, Riddle didn't walk down to take a nap in his bed. Instead, he proceeded towards one of the cupboards on the right. He tapped his wand at something inside, and she heard something heavy shift to the side before he ruffled through the contents, causing clinging noises to break the tense silence. He pulled out a small bottle with a black liquid in it and turned towards her, sizing her up. His mouth curved when he noticed Hermione’s eyes were darting to the bottle with clear apprehension. She had no idea what that potion could be, and she did not feel like finding out. She had never heard of a liquid that turned that dark before, and it could not be a good thing if Riddle was enjoying himself that much. He moved back towards her, all the while maintaining eye contact, and when he was right in front of her, he held the bottle up, showing it to her before placing it on the table next to them with clear emphasis.

‘Sit down.’

He gestured towards the couch on the right, and Hermione moved towards it reluctantly. Her heart was beating so violently in her chest that she was certain it would break through her sternum any second now.

‘What is that?’ she asked, sitting down, while her eyes were on the bottle at the table.

Riddle gave her and the bottle a quick glance. He tilted his head, and with a vicious smile on his face, he said, ‘Nothing that concerns you if you behave…’

She felt her hands were beginning to tremble again, so she pushed them underneath her legs in order to try to hide their show and tell of her emotions.

How am I going to get out this situation? This cannot be happening. It just can’t be.

Riddle moved in front of her and sat down on the table, positioning his legs at the outskirts of hers. He folded his arms across each other and eyed her intently, leaning slightly backwards. Hermione’s eyes darted towards the hand that was holding onto his wand. He was using it to tap on his arm in a cool and collective rhythm. Besides her irregular breaths and his tapping, there wasn’t a single sound to be heard in the common room, until Riddle broke the silence.

‘I suppose we should have that talk now …’ He looked straight into her eyes again. ‘You know, the one I promised you we’d have.’

Oh no, he’ll find out everything. He’ll find out about Harry. I have to think of something. Why can’t I think of something? She panicked.

‘Tell me exactly where you came from,’ Tom ordered calmly.

‘You know where I’m from. I went to Durmstrang and …’

‘Lie,’ he stated coldly, looking straight at her.

Hermione swallowed hard and numerous thoughts raced through her mind. He can already do that? I need to stop looking at him. Legilimency requires eye contact.

Suddenly, the huge chandelier was far more interesting than Riddle’s face; thus, she missed the amused smirk that followed her display of avoidance.

‘Look at me,’ he said barely above a whisper.

In response, her eyes darted from the chandelier briefly to Riddle, and then, to the floor.

Tom moved quickly. He pushed his wand in her throat with one hand while his other hand cupped her chin and tilted her head upward. He leaned in so close their faces almost touched, and Hermione’s breath was held captive inside her chest when he menacingly said, ‘I told you to look at me.’

A gasp escaped her.

Satisfied with their eye contact, Riddle repeated his other command, ‘Tell me where and when you came from.’

No, no, no, he already knows, she thought, freaking out completely.

Of course he knows, Hermione. He saw you arrive here, and he has Salazar’s book after all, sneered a little, taunting voice inside her head. You better say something or you’ll be on the floor screaming next.

‘I don’t remember,’ she whispered in response.

She sincerely hoped it didn’t sound as lame to Riddle as it did to her, but her mind was drawing up blanks.

‘Oh, but it does, Hermione. It sounds just as stupid to me as it undoubtedly does to you,’ Riddle stated coldly. ‘Now, last chance, Evans.’ He drew the tip of his wand over her skin threateningly. ‘What year did you come from?’

‘1997,’ Hermione quietly said, her thoughts scattering all over the place, searching for escape routes.

‘And you live in?’

‘Glasgow.’

‘So you’ve been to Hogwarts before, haven’t you?’

Hermione merely nodded.

I need to stop this line of questioning, now. It needs to stop while I’m still ahead. Before I do something stupid and reveal something important. Something he hasn’t already figured out on his own.

‘But you were panicking when you arrived here and realised where you were.’ Tom’s eyes narrowed when he said this. ‘You were afraid to get tortured and killed. Why?’

And there it was: the unanswerable question. The one that would reveal too much and would tell Riddle all about what was to come …

That’s it!

Relieved she found a way out of this mess, she looked at him triumphantly.

‘You can’t ask me that,’ she replied coolly.

Riddle snorted. ‘Really?’ he taunted.

‘You can’t afford to,’ Hermione said triumphantly, looking straight into his dark eyes, knowing full well she was speaking the truth right now and had absolutely nothing to hide.

Upon noticing the small frown that appeared on his otherwise cool and composed demeanour, she recklessly continued, ‘You know what. You’re absolutely right. Ask me whatever you like. What do I care? I’d loved nothing more than to see you make changes and screw up everything because of what I tell you. So in 1979, you hear this prophecy…’

‘Silencio!’

The dash of red light hit her dead on, but it was probably the first time in history when someone who got hit by this charm had an utter and utmost victorious look on her face. Hermione Granger had just outwitted the Dark Lord, and she was definitely gloating about it. Only, the gloating part was a huge mistake as she realised when he eyed her furiously. He raised his wand at her in a very familiar movement, and she froze up inside the couch, waiting for the Cruciatius Curse to hit her.

‘Cru—’

‘Is the door open again?!’ an excited, little boy’s voice squeaked.

Many things happened fast. Riddle, who was still sitting on the table in front of Hermione, angrily aimed his wand sideways at the tiny eleven-year-old standing at the top of the staircase to the boys' dormitory in his light-blue pyjama. Only for Riddle to get a clear shot of the boy, he lost his aim on his previous target. She did not think twice. With both hands, she grabbed a hold of his arm and wand, pushed it upward and threw her body into a forward motion. They clashed into each other and a Severing Charm left Riddle’s wand, hitting the chandelier at the ceiling above them. Hermione flew over the table, his wand in her hand, and Riddle screamed when the massive chandelier landed right on top of him, knocking him out cold.

That wasn’t a very manly scream, Hermione thought, dazed.

She crawled to her feet and observed the situation in front of her. The small boy was still standing in the doorway, watching petrified as the Head Boy lay unconscious on the table, covered up by the enormous chandelier. The little boy’s eyes were wide in fear, and she wanted to reassure him everything was just fine—perfect, actually, but couldn't. Quickly, she performed a nonverbal spell to undo the effects of the Silencing Charm, which Riddle had cast on her, and she told the little boy to go to sleep and leave the Head Boy to her.

‘Everything will be all right.’

It already is, she added in her mind, watching Riddle's immobile figure amused.

‘And you have classes in the morning,’ she continued before she realised it was Saturday.

But the boy did not need any more incentive to vacate the scene and ran down the stairs, leaving her alone with a very unconscious, nice and quiet Tom Riddle—just as she preferred him to be.

Hermione sighed and flicked her wand.

‘Wingardium Leviosa!’

She then proceeded to move the heavy chandelier off him, mockingly informing herself about what a nice person she was and how lucky certain others were that she didn't hold grud—

‘Eek!’

The chandelier crashed to the floor in a thousand pieces when she stopped casting in shock at the sight of Tom Riddle. He was bleeding heavily. His lips were turning blue. His chest was looking suspiciously still, and then … everything became very, very quiet.

‘Blimey,’ was all Hermione could mutter.

-
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Masters of Manipulation