Riddle [Tomione, On Hold]

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine
Memories and Fears

The couch's cushions felt like planes of rock against Tom's back as he tossed and turned by the faint glow of the fireplace, severely displacing the blanket which Hermione had "courteously" offered to him after a long and hefty argument on who would be taking the bed for the night.

The witch, to whom he began to silently mutter every curse and profanity known to mankind while attempting to find a more comfortable position, had argued that she was his guest, and guests were meant to be offered the highest and utmost comfort the host could offer. While Tom had pointed out that the host instead could withdraw his invitation and evict the guest from his quarters, leaving her to sleep on the cold and hard ground, she only gave him a look of incredulity, briefly kicked off her shoes towards his direction (which he sent back her way with a small burst of magic), and threw herself on his bed, snuggling deeply into the pillows before anyone could say "smug, freeloading, know-it-all witch".

Although Tom was supremely confident in his abilities to grab the intruding witch (who had now settled herself comfortably on his bed) and throw her out of the room, he instead clenched his fist and took a deep breath, using his other hand to thumb the golden watch which was safely tucked into his pocket.

It's all to gain her trust Tom, don't let your temper mess it up now.

With a barely controlled twitch of his eye, the wizard arranged the cushions of his couch to make it appear more comfortable and settled into it, sparing a glance at the now silent Hermione, whose back was facing to him. Snorting, he decided to comment on her rump, earning a rude gesture and a blanket to the face which he gratefully accepted with a smug smirk.

And that was that.

Here Tom was now, suffering from the inability to fall asleep while the most self-confident witch he had ever known was sleeping comfortably on his bed under his feigned hospitality, the stupid, most irritating mud-

A small, pitiful cry interrupted the wizard's string of obscenities, shortly followed by a series of quiet sobs and the sound of thrashing movements, originating from the direction of Tom's bed.

What is this? he furrowed his brow as he froze in his place, cautiously watching the witch attempt to violently untangle herself from the sheets, all the while sobbing almost hysterically as she tangled herself within them even further. He hadn't even realized that he had stood up from his couch to approach her. A possession? A nightmare?

Whatever it was, it was now the cause of a small, throbbing headache which bloomed at the back of his head.

That, and the sleep deprivation suddenly taking its toll.

"Hermione," he spoke as softly as he could, firmly grabbing at what he could guess were her shoulders as she thrashed about in her dreams. "Stop, you'll suffocate yourself."

In response to his touch, her movements only turned more erratic and rabid as she attempted to twist and turn away from his hands, as if afraid of what they could do.

"Hermione," he called out to her again, releasing his hold on her but staying close enough to assist her in the event that she would subconsciously hurt herself. "Wake up, it's only a dream."

Despite Tom's many attempts to calm and wake the panicked Hermione, her nightmare still refused to release its hold on the poor girl, up to point where her face had become notably pale, sweat forming at her brow as she sobbed and shook. Tom's hands began to shake as well as he was faced with the seemingly impossible situation. What could he do to wake her? There were no books or manuals within his knowledge that could possibly direct him to the right course of action, no loving or soothing parental figures who stayed by his side as he braved his own nightmares during his stay at the orphanage, at times resurfacing within his dreams even until now.

But--

Within all of the memories of Tom's nightmares and restless nights, there is a single echo-- an echo of warmth and soothing hands, of a soft tune and words which had lulled him to a peaceful sleep. "You are safe here, Tom," the voice said, full of certainty and a feeling that he was rather unfamiliar with, something that he couldn't name. "No one will hurt you."

Tom never knew whether the memory was conjured within the mind of his young and vulnerable self or if it was entirely real, but he remembers with certainty how a single recollection of it would soothe the wizard, even after the most horrifying of nightmares.

This precious memory, a reminder that the great Tom Riddle was not so invincible after all, he would share with Hermione Lockhart, if only to give her a chance to have the support that he never had, to save her from whatever horror her mind had conjured for her to see within her dreams; a fact which, hypothetically, would not only surprise most people (since he would never even dare approach the subject of weakness with others), but his own self as well.

Shaking off the same unfamiliar feeling in the memory which had begun to slowly creep its way into his soul, he pulled a seat by the bed as softly as he could and settled there, awkwardly taking the witch's twitching hands and enveloping them within his own firmly, even as she attempted to shy away from his touch once more. Wordlessly, he conjured a music box which slowly began to play the soothing tune copied from his memory-- what, were you expecting the dark wizard to actually sing?-- and repeated the words, which he himself had longed to hear from someone real and not just a memory ever since the first time his mind had recalled it, reassuring her that whatever terrors haunted her dreams, it could not, and never again, harm her.

"You are safe here, Hermione. No one will hurt you."

This he said to her again and again, even if his eyes began to droop and his pounding headache screamed at him to rest, only stopping when he was sure that her breathing had returned to normal and she stopped thrashing about. Noticing the even rise and fall of her chest, he was reminded of the image of her writhing away from him, as if he was the cause of all the terror and pain which reflected upon her pale face. 

"I won't hurt you," he whispered, unsure of whether it was to reassure the now peaceful witch or himself as he could feel himself give in to the gentle lull of sleep. 

"I won't hurt you," he repeated again with a hint of finality in his tone, a sort of promise to the sleeping girl before him, right before he was pulled into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

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Hi :")

First of all, to old readers, thank you so much for being patient enough to wait for this long  overdue update! I apologize if the chapter is not sufficiently long enough (I originally planned for it to be longer but upon writing the last line, it seemed a good place to end it), not in par with your expectations ,or if some lines don't make sense (I am sleep deprived and a bit jet-lagged and haven't written a single chapter in a vv long time; constructive criticism is welcome asf), but I hope you know I tried my best to express where I want the story to be leading!

As for new readers, welcome! I hope that you have been enjoying the story so far and will continue to have faith in me as we continue to watch Hermione and Tom's story unfold <3

Thank you, also, to everyone (even you, silent readers) who have read, voted and commented on my story! It really helped me gain back my confidence and inspired me to write more, so kudos to you all!

If you loved the chapter, don't forget to vote and share your thoughts in the comments section! See you in the next update (translation: next few months lol) <3

side note:
kidding about the next few months thing btw.
hopefully.