Venenum

Acanthophis.

 Chapter 7. Acanthophis - The Mortal Kiss

Edited January 2024

Moving away, Tom tightened his grip on her jaw, forcing Hermione to look at him. The Polyjuice potion was losing its effect and Hermione's features began to appear. The hair that was once dark returned to the brown tones of Hermione and began to grow and rebel, the green eyes reverted to light brown, the face became feminine and she decreased to her normal height.

Tom looming above, watched her, observing with interest the effect of the potion ending.

The kiss didn't mean anything. Nothing but the urge to tease her, to taunt her psychologically, to torture. If there was any interest, it would be nothing more than the narcissistic love that Tom Riddle had for his own image. After all, he considered himself perfect and of course, he wasn't wrong. Regarding his appearance, Tom had no flaws or imperfections.

Not taking her eyes from Tom's furious expression, Hermione felt his fingers sink into her cheeks, whilst he forced her to look at him. A rebellious tear slipped down her face.

"Don't tell me you're afraid, Miss. Granger?" He tenderly murmured close, making her feel & smell the warm breath of mint on her skin.

Hermione didn't dare reply, she didn't think she would be able to control the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling, she would probably scream and cry and yet, Hermione did not stop staring at him.

He regarded her, his eyes taking longer than necessary, noting her expression in his mind. Tom swallowed, still feeling her taste on his tongue.

"Let's make things clear, Miss. Granger." A soft threat was present in Tom's voice. There was a slight tilt in his upper mouth corner that indicated the shadow of a smile, a sneer. Feeling the hand that was holding her by the cheek, fading back into the tangle of her hair, Hermione found herself being forced to tilt her head back, Tom Riddle's pale, long fingers tugging her curly hair at her nape. His wand pointed at the small space between her eyes.

"You will not do things like that anymore," he ordered. "You will respect me, you will obey me. The book, Dumbledore and all matters I wish to know, you will tell me." With a muffled laugh, Tom continued. "Otherwise, I'll make sure to make your life hell." He threatened, very seriously.

"So, I politely suggest," Tom's voice suddenly softened, a rapid and almost unbelievable shift "to you that you cooperate with me, because all I have incited against you up until this point is not one tenth of what I am capable of."

He looked around the ladies' room, his gaze discerning as a Machiavellian smile slowly unfolded.

"You know, I hear you're a good friend of Bilius Weasley and Ectur Prewett, even Longbottom and Lupin. You wouldn't want to see your friends harmed, would you? No, I don't think you would. I thought for a while..." Tom released her, contemplating, one hand holding his wand and the other hand, with his index finger tapping his chin in a thoughtful gesture. "Which one do you care most about? Which would be the one you would cry and beg and plead for me to stop the most? Of course, we can easily make theory into a practice, after all, they are all readily available. What do you think, Granger?"

He turned to her.

"I'm giving you options, consider yourself fortunate. It's so much more than I grant most people. You take the easy way or the hard way. It's your choice, Granger. I'm very willing to take either of the options, believe me." Appearing pleased with himself, Tom took a deep breath. "Take the holidays to think about which path you will choose. I must also remind you to be very careful about what you say. You've seen things you shouldn't, so... to make sure you don't spread unfounded rumours... There's a curse placed on your tongue."