Breaking Hermione

Hidden Motives

This is the 100th chapter. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. All of you.

"What about death isn't a riddle?"
- Michael Lee

Hermione

I wanted to scream. To break something. Tom had stabbed me in the back again, he had made plans to kill me, and like an idiot I was entertaining his stupid lovestruck persona. He had made me more than aware he could take my life at any given opportunity over the past few months, but despite the fact I absolutely hated him, a very small part of me actually might have liked seeing him tell me he "loved" me. Whatever that even meant... But to think about that very fact made me hate myself. I was in a relationship with Ron, this was unacceptable. Was I really going to fall for the devil himself? Tom was a psychopathic bastard who was heartless and had proven time and time again that he lacked the capacity to show what it meant to care for someone. Particularly me.

My eyes blurred with tears. I was confused, I was angry, and I felt terrible. I blinked quickly. If I was going to suffer, then I sure wasn't going to let Tom see me vulnerable.

You love him. My mind accused.

Like hell I do.

Tom Riddle was leaning against the stone wall a little way from me, pale and formidable, his eyes capturing my own with utmost ease. I stared right back at him defiantly trying against all odds like I had pulled myself together.

"Now is my turn to ask you a question." He said coldly. "I have a few things I must discuss with you. Someplace where no one is able to listen in. Follow me."

He began to walk down the hall. When he realised I wasn't following, he paused and turned.

I froze, thinking very quickly. Who could possibly be listening in? The young Gryffindor girl was still in the bathroom? Did he know she was in there? And why did he need me to go with him alone?

It's an opportunity to kill me.

I froze, unable to say anything. "What, are you planning to kill me?" I blurted out.

Nice one, idiot.

Tom raised an eyebrow, appearing both amused and nonplussed. "And what would make you say that?" He asked. If he had ulterior motives he was very careful not to give anything away.

"I don't know... Because you've been trying to kill me for months?"

It was a fair point. Without fail, and as passionately as one might commit to a recreational hobby, Tom Riddle had been scheming after my life, almost successfully killing me on several different occasions.

"I told you I loved you." Tom said impatiently. "Did that mean anything to you at all?"

His words were cutting, spoken without a trace of feeling and I felt quite obliged to mirror his coldness.

"Words mean nothing. Actions show all." I tried to make my voice even.

"Do you really think that is the method I would utilise to lead someone off to their death?" Tom asked on a laugh. "I would like to think I would be less obvious than to ask someone directly if they would like to come with me to a secluded place, alone."

"Well, where are we going then?" I walked ahead slowly. There were students all around us. There was nothing Tom could do that wouldn't be seen by dozens of students.

Right?

Wrong.

I followed Tom down a series of long, winding halls, ducking past students in a desperate attempt to keep up with him. He was significantly taller than me, which meant he often maintained a walking pace that was a lot faster than mine.