Never Say Never (Tomione AU)

- '' It will be the last '' -

Tom watches serenely as Hermione flees up the stairs in a hurry, homework forgotten on the large, soft armchair. He watches her shadow disappear into the darkness, shrouded in a charcoal black. He is alone, his shallow breathing one of the few sounds to be heard.

Beside him, the large fireplace still crackles, a soft muttering against the harsh silence that rules the dungeons. Under his breath, Tom curses to himself mutely, wondering where on earth he miscalculated. The answer was simple: everywhere.

He had been polite to her, no, kind even, yet she had rejected his advances with every fiber of her being. And now, it seemed so blatantly obvious where he had gone wrong. He'd expected Hermione Granger to bow, to bend, to break.

But that was not Hermione Granger. And time and time again, he had underestimated her, but this time, he swore to himself, Tom Riddle never fails.

Suddenly, he remembered that very first train journey, himself a steel-faced, childish orphan. Dressed in the most pristine second-hand robes he had been able to find, hair attempted to be parted and smooth, a small nonchalant smile resting on his lips whilst he talked of the great deeds he would commit.

He should have known Hermione Granger wouldn't give in so easily.

In fact, Tom should have realised that particular aspect long ago, beginning from the first time he saw her, hair a wild nest, back straight like a pencil along with an air of confidence that had seemed to radiate around her.

He had underestimated his opponent and hadn't grasped at the single most important fact: that Hermione Granger would never bow down to him. At least, not willingly, or without a little persuasion. That would have to change. Oh definitely. A small smirk graced his lips as he leans back into the armchair.

And then, at that moment, he vows one thing to himself, promises himself something that will drive on his machinations, encourage his plans, that rest in his mind for every other day of his life. This is the first time he has failed

It will be the last.

He is sure of it. And Hermione Granger would assist him in it. She was smart, cunning, and if not dealt with, perhaps a large rival in the future. He had to eliminate the threat before it existed, and here, he was given a golden opportunity to do so.

With a quick, practiced grace he pushed himself from the soft surface of the armchair, his cloak falling elegantly into place behind him. He takes a quick glance around, scanning the area for anyone else. Not a soul moved in the room. Tom smiles slightly, baring his teeth in a feral manner.

He pulls out his wand, softly caressing it, and throws it an admiring glance; even after all these years, he still finds himself enchanted by the prospect of magic, of what it can do, what it did to him. It transformed him into a leader, one fit to rule both worlds, and unite them. He is destined for it, he knows it, even if he finds divination rather ridiculous, it seems obvious to him.

Two worlds were never meant to be pulled apart. He will unite it once again, mend what was broken.

With his dark wand, he makes a fluid motion in the air, casting a disillusionment charm. Once again, he finds himself glancing around, caution in his gaze. The fire crackles on behind him, the cold dampness of the dungeon battling with the heat.

One last fleeting look, and then he walks away, his footsteps against the stone tiles echoing through the dungeons ever so quietly, barely audible to the human ear. He moves past the entrance to the common rooms, entering the corridor.

His pace quickens as he arrives at the moving staircases, ascending on them towards the third floor, snapping his fingers impatiently. In the hallways, dimly lit with ancient candles, shadows seem to dance across his porcelain complexion, deforming it, pulling it into an unrecognizable, twisted grimace of a monster.