Breaking Hermione

Try Me

I've been trying so hard to write but it was like my mind was dead and I couldn't think! Thank you so much to everyone who is commenting and voting because I read all your comments and treasure them so much 🖤🖤🖤

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Hermione Granger
P.O.V

Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, the nightmare began.

"Hermione!" Ron was hovering above me, his pale hand clenched around my vial of Essence Of Dittany, fear plastered on his features.

"You've been splinched. Part of you is stuck in the past, part of you is trapped in the present. I don't know what the bloody hell to do..."

"What..." I tried to move but I was frozen stiff with pain - he was right. The smell of blood was overwhelming. I was lying on the ground, judging by the branches above me i was in a forest. The Forest of Dean.

"We don't have much time," Ron was saying, "They're coming for us...."

"Ron," I breathed. "Just....kill me."

The look of horror on Ron's face suddenly came startlingly clear to my blurred vision.

"What are you talking about?" His voice became extremely low, intense. "I'm not going to kill you."

"I know." I affirmed. "I'm just asking you to kill me.... instead of him." I repeated, stronger this time. "I would rather die than be trapped in two worlds."

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Tom Riddle P.O.V

Tom Riddle sat alone at the edge of his four poster bed staring out the window into the depths of the Great Lake. He always admired the view, the water was dark and troubled, and somehow always calmed him. Was it because he was deeply troubled as well? His face was expressionless as he gazed out. Somewhere in the far distance a curling tentacle of the Giant Squid could be seen. Slightly to the left, his own reflection could be seen in the window too. Tall, pale and handsome with dark eyes and fine features Tom was used to women chasing him. He moved slightly to take off his cloak, his lean figure looking taller in a tightly fitted long sleeved shirt and matching black pants. His body was slumped over, his elbows resting on his knees as though he was contemplating something.

As if set to intentionally offend there were a few posters of explicit witches hanging beside his bed like the type in Sirius' bedroom at the Black family house, the only difference was of course the ones Tom had were witches and not muggles. On his bedside table sat a couple of bottles of Firewhisky, a Slytherin tie and a chest of drawers stacked with thick books with very old leather bound covers. Dark magic. And beside it was a single lock of brunette hair, that belonged to a particular someone.

Hermione. The girl was average looking, short and pale with wild hair and a big personality. There was no logical reason why she should be on his mind in a very explicit way right now. Try as he may he couldn't stop thinking about her. She was a brilliant witch despite all of her clumsiness and stupidity. She lacked direction. Direction that he alone could give her.

He picked up the single lock of hair. He'd managed to take it from her when she wasn't looking. Thank Merlin he did get it. These curses would've been useless without it.
He knew that. He was always one step ahead of her. Compared to him, she was an idiot. Did she ever think? It was always like her head was somewhere miles away in the fucking clouds or something.