Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Forbidden Ship	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 18082 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series nor any of the characters from the books/movies. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Code: NoSex

For Allie, who's sick and has exams.

Prompt: exams

She couldn't believe it; she knew that he was beyond competitive, knew he'd go to any lengths to win and stay the best student of their year, but this was just foul, cheating ... and so typically Slytherin.

Hermione Granger glared at the empty classroom, not believing that she'd just missed her Arithmancy N.E.W.T. exam because she'd overslept!

This was no accident. Her eyes narrowed.

The whole Slytherin common room had been laughing at her when she'd come out of her dormitory with her bag on her arm and he had been the worst, sitting comfortably on one of the leather armchairs as if it were his throne. She still heard that lazy, fake disinterest of his drawl as he'd informed her of the time. She'd rushed out in a panic, ignoring the smirk on that obnoxiously handsome face.

"I wonder what Arithmancy theorem will support the awful grade one gets from not attending their exam," he said behind her.

Riddle.

She swirled around, her hair fluffing all over the place as she approached him venomously. He was undeterred, leaning against the doorframe whilst his dark eyes flickered to her hair in amusement. She was sure that tall, dark and handsome act of his had got many witches to be distracted from whatever goal they had first, but Hermione Jean Granger wasn't any witch and she was pissed.

"You did something to me, Riddle," she hissed, pricking him in the chest, "and mark my words, I will prove it."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Why would I possibly bother?" he asked, smirking. "Anyone who can't tell what time it is will be quite sufficiently inadequate in their Arithmancy anyway."

"This isn't over, Riddle."

"Of course it is," he stated smugly, "and I've won."

"You've won one battle," Hermione said over her shoulder, "but I'm winning this war."

With that she paced away, not noticing the pondering expression Riddle had as his gaze followed her until she turned the corner and was out of sight.

Quickly, she made her way through the empty corridors until she was in front of Professor Dumbledore's quarters. He'd understand she'd been either hexed or poisoned and help her take her N.E.W.T. Headmaster Dippet was an useless, old fool who loved his precious Head Boy, so there was no point going to him. Hermione raised her fist and knocked on the door.

She was about to knock again when the door opened and Dumbledore stood there, blinking his blue eyes several times while yawning behind his hand. He wore a purple dressing gown over his pyjamas. HIS PYJAMAS! Hermione shook her head. Was he ill?

"Excuse me, Miss Granger," he said, rubbing underneath his pointy wizarding sleeping hat with his hand, "I'm sorry, but what can I do for you?"

"I missed my Arithmancy exam, Professor. I think I've been drugged."

"Your what?"

"My Arithmancy N.E.W.T. exam. I overslept. I never oversleep, never ever. And they all knew, and Riddle was—"

Dumbledore held up his hand, causing her to stop talking. "Miss Granger, do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, eleven o'clock," she squeaked hysterically.

"My dear, it's five a.m. not eleven," he said calmly, his eyes twinkling. "I think someone's been having some fun with your pre-exam jitters."

"Five?" she asked, her mouth slightly ajar.

Her eyes flashed to the nearest window. Indeed, now that she looked closer, the sun was still awfully close to the horizon. Anyone who can't tell what time it is ... That son-of-a-bitch. Anger rushed through her when she realised that he'd tricked her in the worst possible way and made her disturb Albus Dumbledore in the middle of the night for nothing! Her face turned beet red.

"I didn't miss my Arithmancy exam," she said feebly, still not quite believing she'd actually falling for this stunt.

"No, dear," Dumbledore said kindly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go back to this lovely dream I've been having: my very own lemon drop mansion, can you believe it?"

"Yes, of course, sorry to disturb you, Professor," Hermione said absentmindedly, her mind already going over possible revenge scenarios. Tom Marvolo Riddle was going to pay for making her look like an idiot in front of her favourite professor.

"No worries, Miss Granger. I'm sure you'll find something useful to do with all that spare time you now have before your exam," Dumbledore said, closing the door with a chuckle.

Oh, she was going to find something useful. She still had some Weasley Wizard Wheezes items in her beaded bag that had been left undisturbed. But no more... Tom Riddle would find out who he'd been messing with.

She held her head high and ignored the jokes and demeaning comments when she returned to the common room. She ignored them during breakfast, making sure not to have eye contact with that penetrating gaze sitting across from her. She even ignored them at the start of the Arithmancy exam, immediately unrolling her scroll and dipping her quill in the ink, though for a moment, from the corner of her eye, she glanced at the black-haired head sitting at the desk next to her. Riddle was writing vigorously and ...

he was using her ink!

Satisfaction warmed the cockles of her heart as she began on her exam. As always Riddle was finished well within the time limit and he leaned back in his chair lazily. She felt that dark gaze of his burning on her and she looked up, sending him a false, sickeningly sweet smile.

I'm finished, he mouthed triumphantly.

Any second now ...

Good for you, she mouthed back equally triumphantly.

xxx

He frowned at her, suspicion flashing over his face; then he leaned back again, placing his hands behind his head, uncaring. Crazy witch. She was clever and entertaining, though. Too bad about her disgusting blood. Suddenly, he sat up abruptly, grabbed his scroll and stared at it disbelievingly. The letters were vanishing. Every single thing he'd written was slowly disappearing. How the—?!

His head flashed to her.

Problem? she mouthed, with a mocking expression.

You did this, he mouthed, holding up his now vacant scroll.

Whoops. Didn't know the answers?

His gaze darkened at the fun she was clearly having, and he mouthed back: This isn't over, Granger.

"Well, anyone who can't tell he needs to hurry because otherwise he won't have enough time left to finish is bound to be quite sufficiently inadequate at Arithmancy anyway," Hermione whispered victoriously. "Troll will be a good enough score for you, I think."

She turned away from him, snickering while continuing to write on her own exam paper. Blasted, sneaky witch. She was going to pay for this. It was just too much; it was foul, cheating and ... so typically Slytherin.

"You may have won this battle, Granger," he hissed underneath his breath, raising his hand to get the professor's attention, "but I'm winning this war."

"Tom, my boy, what's the matter?"

"Professor, there seems to be a problem with my writing equipment; can I get a new scroll, quill and ink?"

That was the first time in his entire life that Tom Riddle had to work hard to get an exam finished on time.

xxx
- 6
- 7
- 8
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

The Forbidden Ship