Summersmut Mod (summersmutmod) wrote in hp_summersmut, @ 2007-09-10 09:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | hermione granger, hermione/ron, hermione/tom, ron weasley, tom riddle |
[FIC] Quid Pro Quo: Tom/Hermione, Ron/Hemrione
Originally posted here on 30 August 2007
Title: Quid Pro Quo
Requestor: freetheelves2
Author/Artist:
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tom/Hermione with a little bit of Ron/Hermione
Summary: It warned that it was dark magic, which Hermione thought was unnecessary, given the book it was in. It explained that certain rules of magic had to be ignored and overridden to affect this spell, and that it could have unpredictable consequences.
Staring at the page, remembering how Harry had always taken whatever risk was necessary to do what needed to be done, how Dumbledore had as well, and realizing she didn't have much other option, she accepted that.
Warnings (if any): A tiny bit of bondage
Author's Notes: freetheelves2, you said: Dominant male is important. Bondage is great. Plot is what love is made from. And probably necessary, especially if you pick teh OTP, T/Hr. ♥ Happy endings are appreciated, but not necessary, especially if you can pull off a really heart-wrenching, manipulative, used!Hermione ending in the Tom one.
I did my best to give you your OTP in a non-cliché way. I tried to incorporate everything on your list into this story and I hope you like it.
Thanks to Lia, for being so patient with me.
Huge, undying, and everlasting thanks to my beta. Your input was invaluable and I appreciate you and what you did very much. You are the best beta in the fandom.
Hermione slammed the cover of Ancient Artefacts shut, and held her head in her hands, groaning in frustration. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of her and Ginny's room, and her legs had long since fallen asleep. She looked around at the books scattered around her, starting to wonder if she was ever going to track down the missing Horcruxes.
Though the summer had just begun, she had received almost no help in her research. Since Harry, Ron and Hermione had returned from the Dursley's, Harry spent most of his time alternately skulking by himself or arguing with Ginny. Despite Ginny's calm acceptance of Harry's need to battle Voldemort alone, she had changed her mind over the past weeks, especially when she learned that Hermione and Ron would be going along. Hermione understood that; Ginny didn't want to be left out when she felt she had something to contribute. Hermione had been there several years before.
Ron was preoccupied as well. He enjoyed walking around behind Fleur, and Hermione tried not to blame him. Fleur was part-Veela, after all. Hermione worked hard to convince herself that once they left the Burrow, Ron would turn his attention to her.
Harry had, however, managed to recover the real locket Horcrux. It hadn't been easy; Mundungus had taken it in his raid of Grimmauld Place. But they had it, and that's what mattered. The problem was no one could figure out how to destroy it. Everyone was afraid of opening it; they thought Riddle might escape as he had done with the diary. However, since they couldn't open it, what would happen if they did hardly seemed to matter. Harry gave it to Hermione for safekeeping, trusting her skill for protective spells over his own. Discovering how to open it became just another task for Hermione to read into, and information on Horcruxes was scarce at best.
Not that it mattered. Neither Ron nor Harry was ever a great help with research.
She'd read through every page of every book she could find. She'd gotten so desperate, she'd gone into Knockturn Alley, something she vowed never to do again. With Dumbledore gone, and the whole of the wizarding world in a chaos that must rival the first war, it wasn't safe out, especially in a seedy place like Knockturn Alley.
"Mum wants to know if you're coming down," Ron said.
Hermione looked up at him. He was leaning in the doorway, eating an apple. "What?"
"Mum wants to know if you're coming down for dinner," Ron clarified. "She wants the entire family there for the last night Bill and Fleur are here. I think Ginny is planning a party, no matter how much she says she's trying to like Fleur."
Hermione returned to her book. "Just don't call her 'Fleur Weasley,' and I think you'll avoid any disasters. Better stay away from 'Mrs. Weasley,' too. Your mum might not like that so much."
Ron entered the room, stepping over the scattered books that lay on the floor, and sat down across from Hermione. "You read all these?" he asked, gesturing around them.
"At least six times." She sighed, still not looking at him. "I wouldn't say no if you, you know, helped."
"Oh." He picked up a book and opened it. Turning one page at a time too quickly to have been reading, he said, "So, erm, you and McClaggen. Are you still..."
Hermione stopped reading, but still didn't look at him. "You know we aren't. Why?"
"I just... Well, I thought... Nevermind." He set the book aside. "I think I'll go rescue Harry. I saw him talking to Ginny, and-"
"Wait," Hermione requested, finally looking at him again. "I...could really use your help. I've been looking through Darkest Magic. I got the copy when I went to Knockturn Alley a few weeks ago, but I've only read a little of it. I'd really like it if you read through some of it. Maybe you'll see something I missed?" She reached over, picked up the book, and offered it to him.
Ron didn't look excited at the prospect, but he took the book anyway. "You need a break. Come down to dinner."
"I'm not hungry."
"You've been in here, by yourself, for days. Come on, or Mum will yell at me."
"Ron, I am fine." Tears of frustration were beginning to form in her eyes. "Tell your mum that I just need to do a bit more research."
For a moment, Ron didn't respond. Then, he shrugged, placed Darkest Magic on Hermione's lap, and left. She felt bad that she'd hurt him, but pushed it to the back of her mind for the time being. She flipped through the pages, coming to a stop on one of the most complex spells she'd ever seen.
Days before, she'd told herself she wouldn't risk the consequences of the incantation. She didn't know what might happen if she, by some small chance, mucked it up. Knowing she couldn't do it, and wanting at least to say goodbye to the newlyweds, she set the book aside and went down to dinner.
Ron was happy to see her, waving her over to sit next to him. "Thanks," he said under his breath. "Mum would have been fussed with me if you hadn't come."
"Yeah," Hermione muttered. Smiling at Bill, she asked, "Are you going back to Africa?"
"Not right away," he answered around a mouthful of food.
He went on to explain his plans, but Hermione had stopped listening. She looked at Ginny, who was listening attentively. If she found out what Hermione saw in that book, she'd burn it. Returning to her plate, she heard Fleur take over the conversation. The words 'Mrs. Fleur Weasley' floated through the room, and Ginny stabbed her broccoli with more force than was necessary.
After dinner, Mrs. Weasley continued fussing over Bill and Fleur, reluctant to let them leave. Hermione retreated to her and Ginny's room, determined to find something before she went to sleep that night. As she entered, she caught sight of the innocent looking chest about the size of a large book sitting on the floor beside the wardrobe. Without thinking about it, she picked it up and set it on her lap.
Pulling out her wand, she said, "Alohomora." It clicked open and she removed the lid to reveal what appeared to be an empty interior. She waved her wand over it again, and another, smaller chest materialized. She opened it as she had done the first, and it, too, seemed to be empty. When she waved her wand over it this time, the Horcrux appeared, deceptively harmless, at the bottom of the chest.
She'd wanted to make it more difficult to retrieve, but she didn't have the time. And, as Ron had pointed out, chances of Voldemort suddenly suspecting the locket had been removed after all this time, and assuming it was hidden in a chest at the Burrow were not high. Besides, she realized, the Ministry still maintained it's magical protections over the Burrow for Harry's safety, and no one who didn't know where the Horcrux was and what spells Hermione had placed on it would be able to find it. The locket was as safe as it was likely to get.
She took it out and examined it. So far, they had discovered that it wouldn't burn, melt or smash. She turned it over in her hands, the snake on the front of the locket caught the fading sun, reflecting onto the nearby wardrobe. When she turned it just so, the reflected light seemed to dance.
Hermione heard someone approaching and secured the locket inside her fist. Ginny entered, and Hermione relaxed. She held the locket up again, letting it spin in a slow circle so she could see it from all sides.
"Do you have to play with that thing?" Ginny snapped.
"Sorry," Hermione said. "I'm just trying to figure out how to destroy it."
Ginny sighed. "I don't like anything that has to do with him, that's all." Sitting on her bed, she said, "Harry says you're leaving soon."
"Not until I get some idea where we're going. Then we'll visit Godric's Hollow, and then we'll go looking for a way to defeat Voldemort."
"He's being unreasonable," Ginny said. "I can help. He wants me to start Dumbledore's Army again. Can you think of anything more pointless? We don't even need it. We'll have Defense Against the Dark Arts, and whoever is teaching that this year will know more than I do! Besides, who is going to try to attack the school again? He's just trying to keep me busy."
"He's trying to keep you safe. Voldemort's already targeted-"
"I know, Hermione. That doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. I can help."
"Well, if you want to help, you can help me go through all these books. Ron's no use when it comes to this."
Ginny shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" She slid to the floor and picked up the nearest book. "Speaking of Ron," she went on, flipping through the pages, "what's going on with you two?"
Hermione unconsciously stuffed the locket into her pocket, shut the chests, and joined Ginny amid the piles of books. "Nothing. He asked about McClaggen earlier, but that's it."
Ginny looked up from her book and sighed. "Hermione, when are you going to stop messing about and get on with it already?"
"It's Ron that's messing about. I told him months ago that I... But then he was with Lavender and nothing happened. Anyway, we're in a war now. There's no time for things like that."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You could be dead tomorrow. If you want him, tell him. My brother can be thick. He won't get it if you don't say it."
Hermione shook her head. "We've got enough things to worry about without-"
"You're going to be around the person you love all the time. Don't spend it pining like a first year. Do something."
Smiling, Hermione said, "Easy for you to say. You've got boys lining up to catch you."
"You don't need boys. You just need Ron." She looked down at the book. "Now, what am I looking for?"
"Hmmm? Oh, something Ravenclaw or Gryffindor valued. It would have disappeared between 20 and 50 years ago, I'd say."
Ginny looked at the width of her book. It was as thick as the width of her hand. She opened it and skimmed the tiny two-column print. "And how am I supposed to find that in this?"
"Welcome to my problem."
Ginny rested against her bed, propped the book on her knees, and started to read. Silence fell over the bedroom as both girls became absorbed in their task.
Hermione didn't know how much time had passed before she looked over at Ginny and asked, "Any luck?"
"If you define luck as 'the absence of success,' yeah. Lots. This is pointless," she announced, closing her book. "Didn't Harry pull Gryffindor's sword out of the Sorting Hat?"
"Yeah, but it's not what we're looking for." Her mind wandered to the locket, and how the light had danced when it touched the metal. She'd found it enchanting, but she didn't know why. She'd seen it happen to so many things in her lifetime, she couldn't possibly count. "Ginny, what's he like?"
"Who?"
"Riddle."
Ginny froze, her hand halfway to picking up another book. "Excuse me?"
"I, erm, I was just thinking... You know him better than any of us. Maybe if you told me what he was like, I could figure something out."
Propping the book on her lap, Ginny said, "He's a vicious, manipulative, cold-hearted murderer who doesn't care for anyone or anything except himself. That answer your question?"
"Well, no," Hermione said slowly, hoping to sound sympathetic. "We knew those things already. I meant-"
"He's a liar. Whatever he said to me wasn't the truth. I think we better stick with the books. The ones that don't talk back to you. Okay?" The tone in Ginny's voice said clearly she wasn't going to discuss it anymore right then.
"Okay," Hermione agreed. She looked back at her book, but her attention was still on the locket.
The day passed with no further progress. By the next morning, Hermione still didn't know how to destroy the locket, or what else might be a Horcrux.
She dreamt of him that night. When she woke, she couldn't recall the specifics, only the feeling it left her with. She wanted to sleep again, to feel what she was feeling as long as she could. In the silence of the very early morning hours, she closed her eyes and tried to remember. When she couldn't, she made it up, imagining he touched her, and kissed her, and ignoring that he was Voldemort. Riddle was different. He wasn't Voldemort yet.
Somehow - she didn't understand how - she'd forgotten to replace the locket in its box. She woke to find it sitting on her bedside table, and vaguely remembered staring at it, transfixed, before she fell asleep.
Before she went down to breakfast, she examined it again. The snake on the cover seemed to undulate if she held it just so. She traced the serpent with her index finger, feeling the alternating rough ridges and smooth surfaces. She desperately wanted to get it open.
Ginny was stirring in the bed beside hers, jolting Hermione back to reality. She glanced at her friend, then back at the locket. This was what Riddle had done to Ginny so many years before. He had mesmerized her, and then he tried to kill her.
Hermione shook her head. He wasn't doing the same to her. He couldn't have been. Hermione wasn't communicating with Riddle. She was merely holding... a part of his soul.
She put the locket back in its box before she readied herself for the day.
She ate breakfast, watched Harry, Ron and Ginny play a game of Quidditch against Fred, George and Charlie, and ate lunch, but Hermione's mind never strayed far from the Horcrux hidden upstairs. Fred, George and Charlie were leaving at the end of the day, and Ron was keen to spend time with them before they left.
Hermione hovered enough that the twins would take notice of her, but not enough to annoy them or cause Ron to be suspicious. When Fred or George - Hermione couldn't really tell - gave Ron a new treat to try, and Ron turned into a pudgy owl, Hermione seized her opportunity. As Ron flew out of the room, screeching at ear-splitting volumes, Hermione slipped in, earning raised eyebrows of surprise from both boys.
"I need to talk to you," she announced.
"Yeah?" Fred asked.
"What about?" George inquired.
"Have you got something that will help someone sleep? Something normal. Not anything that's going to hurt or change anyone."
"Having trouble sleeping?" George sighed. "Yeah. Mum is, too. But we're not supposed to know that."
"I just want... something that will stop someone from waking up for a while. You know, a good night's sleep sort of thing. I'd make it myself, but I haven't time."
"Sure thing," Fred said. "We can spare a bit of what Dad asked us to bring for Mum. I can let you have it for eight sickles."
Hermione frowned. "You're charging me for -"
"Aw, come on, Fred," George chimed in. "We can make an exception for her this one time." He added something Hermione didn't catch.
Fred looked Hermione over and answered, "You're right. Okay, then. Just a few drops. You won't need more." He rummaged in his bag for something, produced a vial of red liquid, and tossed it to her.
"Thanks." She smiled. "Now. About Ron-"
"He'll switch back in a few. He's fine."
Hermione sighed. "Okay. Thanks again."
She slipped out of the room, and went to join Harry and Ginny. As she descended the stairs, she wondered what had made her ask that of Fred and George. She didn't have any specific plans that required the potion's use. Yet she had felt very sure at the time that she desperately needed it. She slipped it into her pocket and tried to forget about it.
She found Harry and Ginny in the sitting room, talking about the coming term and carefully avoiding any mention of Voldemort or Horcruxes. She joined in, adding what she could as cheerfully as possible. Still, there was something pulling at Hermione's mind, like a string attaching her brain to the locket. It was tugging at her, beckoning her to come back, to open it.
"I have to get my books for N.E.W.T. Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms, but Mum doesn't want to go into Diagon Alley," Ginny was saying. "She said Dad could get them through the Ministry."
"You can have mine," Hermione volunteered. "I won't be needing them, and they're still in good condition."
Ginny smiled. "Thanks."
"No problem," Hermione answered, seizing her opportunity and getting to her feet. "I'll tell your mum now."
"You don't have to go right now."
"It's no bother. I'm a bit antsy anyway. I want to burn off a little of this energy."
She left the room before either of them could object again. Once back in her room, she grabbed her books and was halfway toward the door when she caught sight of the box again. Hesitating only a moment, she sighed and crossed to it. She opened it, cast the necessary spells, and pulled the locket out.
Hermione had always been the cleverest witch. She should have been able to solve this puzzle days before. That she couldn't solve it, or even push it from her mind for longer than a fraction of a minute, was both frustrating and intriguing. Riddle was younger than she was when he made his first Horcrux. Despite Hermione's own intelligence, she could not discern how he had done it or how to undo it.
It piqued her curiosity about him beyond trying to discover how to destroy him. Of course she'd known he was both intelligent and powerful, but now she wanted to know more, though she couldn't put her finger on what she wanted to know or why.
With a glance at the door to be sure no one was around, she secured the locket around her neck. Just as a reminder she couldn't let this mystery go unsolved. Of course. She pulled the collar of her shirt up to hide the necklace, grabbed her books, and went to find Mrs. Weasley.
On her way back down the stairs, she ran into Ron. They were blocking each other's way, and Hermione backed up the stairs to allow Ron through.
"What's all this?" Ron asked. "More research?"
"No. N.E.W.T. books. I'm giving them to Ginny."
"Oh."
"Are Fred and George gone?"
"No. Mum is crying and hugging them goodbye. For about fifteen minutes now. Charlie is waiting his turn."
Hermione smiled. She and Ron stood in an awkward silence as Ginny's advice rang through her ears. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, "Ron, don't you think it's about time we stop messing about and get on with it already?"
Ron looked confused. "Get on with what?"
"You know," she said impatiently. "Us. We've been at this for ages now. I don't want McClaggan, I want... well, you know..." She let her voice trail off.
Ron watched her silently for a moment. Hermione couldn't decide if he looked more surprised or like he was expecting this. However, she could see that he was happy. He took a step closer. "I-"
"There you are."
Both Ron and Hermione looked around to see Ginny and Harry joining them. Ron quickly stepped back.
"Are those the books?" Ginny asked.
"Yeah. I was just taking them to show your Mum."
"Don't worry about it," Ginny said, taking them from Hermione. "She won't be done with my brothers for a while yet." Her eyes flitted across Hermione's throat, and Hermione self-consciously pulled her collar up to be sure the necklace was hidden.
"Lupin says there's an Order meeting tonight," Ron said. "We're supposed to be getting new information."
"Shacklebolt has a report about what's going on with the Muggles," Harry added.
"I think you should go," Hermione said. "They might say something useful."
"What about you?" Ron asked.
"I'm going to stay behind this time." She smiled. "I'll keep Ginny company."
"I don't need to be babysat," Ginny protested.
"Besides," Hermione went on, "I'm really close to finding something in my research."
Ron and Harry perked up. "Really?" Harry asked.
"Yeah," she lied. "Another night. Maybe two. You two go, but pay attention."
"Do you want us to take notes, too?" Ron asked sarcastically.
"If you think it'll help," Hermione replied coolly.
Downstairs, Mrs. Wealsey could be heard bidding her sons a final farewell, calling out to them as they Apparated away. All four kids decided they better get out of sight before she found them; no one felt up to her constant hugs and reminders to be safe.
That night, Harry, Ron, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left for the Order meeting while Ginny and Hermione stayed in their room.
"Was it my imagination, or did Harry and I interrupt something with you and Ron earlier?"
Hermione thought she might be blushing. "I was just taking your advice. I told him how I felt."
"And?" Ginny urged.
"And then you came."
"Well," she said cheerfully. "Maybe next time."
Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she opened Darkest Magic, turning through the pages in her search for more information. The book was impossibly large; it'd take her more than the two days she'd predicted to get through it. Still, she read well into the night, until the tiny print began to blur and her eyes started to water. Disappointed, she put the book aside and went to sleep. She couldn't help wrapping her hand around the locket like a child cuddles around a favorite stuffed toy as she drifted off.
She dreamed of him again. It was surreal, indistinct. She saw herself opening the locket and setting Riddle free. She ached for that with all her being, and when she woke up, the feeling did not go away. It was as if the locket itself were imploring her to open it.
The next morning, Hermione made sure to wear a turtleneck jumper, even though the weather was mild and she didn't need one. It was the best cover for the locket. She wanted to take it off, but something wasn't letting her. Harry and Ron had news of new Death Eater activity, and rising awareness in the Muggle world of what was transpiring, but Hermione heard nothing that would help them directly.
"Did you find anything?" Ron asked.
"No. Not yet. Almost."
"If we're going to stop Voldemort, we need to find something now," Harry complained.
"What 'we'?" Ginny demanded. "It's Hermione doing it almost by herself. You're no help at all. Leave her alone. She'll find something."
"Thanks, Ginny," Hermione said. Though she appreciated Ginny telling Harry to back off, Hermione knew that Harry had a point; they did need a new lead and soon. She no longer had a choice. "I'm sure I'll have something in a day. I just need a little more time."
All day, Hermione wrestled with her decision. They weren't going to get very far without help. There was just too much history and too many possibilities. And with the death toll ringing as high as it was, they needed a solution. She couldn't change her mind.
At dinner, Hermione made sure to sit beside Ginny. Though she still had no idea why she asked for the sleeping potion, she found it coming in useful now. It would be better for everyone if Ginny didn't wake up to see what Hermione was doing. When Ginny's attention was elsewhere, and a quick glance around the table told Hermione no one was watching her, she emptied three drops of the potion into Ginny's drink.
That night, Hermione changed into her nightgown, got into bed, and pretended to be asleep. She waited until Ginny had gone to bed, and the Burrow had descended into silence. Then she waited a while longer. When absolutely no other sounds could be heard, she crawled out of bed, retrieved Darkest Magic, cast a soft Lumos, and turned to the page of the incantation she had found.
She read it carefully several times, to know what she was risking. The spell would bring forth the castor of the incantation she was seeking to undo, as he was at the time of casting. She was grateful she didn't need a lot of hard to find objects. All she needed was a representation of the spell: The Horcrux itself. Doing the math, she figured she would be dealing with a young version of Voldemort, one who wouldn't know about Harry or anything at all about Godric's Hollow. If he was like the Riddle who came out of the diary, he would have no idea what transpired in the world after that part of his soul was locked away.
It would also fix him to one location, which eased the tension in Hermione's stomach, if only a little. She didn't like the idea of Voldemort storming around the Burrow. She much preferred him to be in one spot while she questioned him.
And he would be without his wand, provided he wasn't holding one at the time he made the Horcrux. The spell wouldn't pull him from that exact moment, but it would present her with him as he was then, with all the knowledge, feelings and memories he possessed at that time.
The part that gave her pause was the bit that told of the quid pro quo. If she asked something of him, he was required to do it. But she couldn't have something for nothing. He was allowed to ask something of her, and she was also required to do it. If she didn't, she lost her power over the spell, and she would be right back where she started. Once they had both completed what was requested of them, the spell would terminate; Riddle would vanish.
It warned that it was dark magic, which Hermione thought was unnecessary, given the book it was in. It explained that certain rules of magic had to be ignored and overridden to affect this spell, and that it could have unpredictable consequences.
Staring at the page, remembering how Harry had always taken whatever risk was necessary to do what needed to be done, how Dumbledore had as well, and realizing she didn't have much other option, she accepted that. She took a deep breath and began memorizing the spell, and it's reversal incantation. It was in no language she had ever seen or heard of. She understood that; if it was a simple English or Latin spell, anyone could cast it, but it was part gibberish, part a bizarre attempt at a Latinate construction. She half-thought it was made up, but she had to give it a try. Once she was confident she knew the spell, she removed the locket and set it on the desk.
She stepped away, pointed her wand at it, and chanted, "Plurg Brucht Retrievo Obscurus Animate..."
The Horcrux began to glow green and shake as Hermione uttered the spell. She continued, and the shaking grew fiercer, the locket elevating a few inches from the desk and vibrating off the edge, falling to the floor.
She didn't see it open, but a form emerged. At first a formless blob, it soon stretched and shifted to resemble a human form. Then, as the green light faded, it left in its place a being that was very clearly a young Tom Riddle.
Hermione fell back, her heart leaping into her throat and beating a frantic rhythm. She wanted to utter the incantation to reverse it, but that would leave her back where she had started; with no information and no leads. Gripping her wand tightly in her hand, she tried to remain as quiet as possible.
Riddle was dressed in simple wizarding robes. He looked around, his expression equal parts confusion and amusement. His eyes took in the dark room, resting first on Ginny's sleeping form. He quirked his head, and continued to investigate his surroundings. Hermione pushed closer to the wardrobe, causing it to rattle. Riddle turned abruptly in her direction.
He took a step toward her, then stopped. The locket still lay on the floor, and he bent down to pick it up. Holding the chain between two fingers, he let the locket twirl in circles, as Hermione had done many times. He watched it for a moment, then looked up at her, a strange glint in his eyes.
Riddle was obviously able to move freely, something she hadn't anticipated. He was supposed to be locked to one location, but as she had just seen him move, she must have misunderstood. Had the spell meant one room? One building? Oh, this was very bad.
"P-please," Hermione whispered. "Don't hurt me."
Riddle closed his fist around the locket. "Hurt you?" He was smiling, but there was no humor in it. "Whyever would I do that?"
Hermione weighed her options. She didn't think telling Riddle he was a sadistic murderer would help her any. Nor did she want to remain silent. She settled on, "I know who you are."
"I imagine you would." He put the necklace in his pocket, moving toward her once more. "If you're intelligent enough to release me, you're intelligent enough to find out who I am." Stopping in front of her, he finished, "It begs one question."
Hermione glanced over at Ginny, then at the door. She didn't know if a spell would affect this version of Riddle; Harry had never told her if he cast spells against Riddle in the chamber. She'd just have to risk it.
Riddle cupped Hermione's chin in his hand, his skin cold like death. Turning her head to face him, he locked eyes with her and asked, "Why did you let me out? Tell the truth."
Harry had said that when Riddle gave that order, he sounded like he had issued it many times before, and always expected honesty. Hermione didn't understand how three words could convey that until she heard it herself. She tried to think fast, to come up with a plausible lie, but her panic was preventing it. And, she reminded herself, Riddle was a great legillimens. He'd know if she was lying.
Swallowing, she answered, "I... I wanted to meet you."
"Why?"
"Because..." She tried to look around again, but he was holding her chin too tightly. He didn't appear to be interested in hurting her anytime soon. Her heart began to beat at a normal pace again, and her mind began to clear enough to let her process a lie more efficiently. "I wanted to know if the rumors were true."
He hadn't blinked once since taking hold of her. She could only imagine what he was seeing in her memories, what feelings and urges he knew she had.
"What rumors?"
She didn't answer right away. He looked exactly as she had imagined him; he was handsome, tall, and completely mesmerizing. She wondered how it would feel to have his cock inside her, to have him be her first.
He's Voldemort, a voice reminded her. It was enough to jolt her into action. She pushed him away, breaking his hold on her.
This was a terrible mistake. After what he'd done to Ginny, she should have known better. She was angry with herself for thinking she could do what Dumbledore and Harry had done; she was not them, the end did not always justify the means, and she had to fix it right away.
Pointing her wand at him, she chanted, "Krav Lockt Drep-"
Riddle's eyes flashed, and Hermione could have sworn they turned red for an instant. He closed the distance between them in four long strides. She continued to chant the spell, even as he tried to rip her wand from her. Prying his thumb into her fist, he loosened her hold on her wand and pulled it from her. He tossed it into the darkness, but Hermione didn't hear it fall; Riddle spun her around, slamming her against the wall.
Stomach sinking into her feet, Hermione said, "Let me go."
"No." He placed his lips against her ear and whispered, "Sending me back so soon after you summon me? I might think you were disappointed."
"Please," Hermione said, fighting for control of her voice and determined not to whimper. "Just let me go."
At first, Riddle did not respond. Then, he released her wrist. Hermione turned around to see him standing just inches from her. He leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of her head.
"You brought me here with a very dark spell. Your desire to meet me must have been great."
"N-no," Hermione answered, shifting uncomfortably. "I j-just wanted an-answers. A-a-and according to the spell, you ha-have to give them to me."
"And you know the price?"
Heart beating wildly, Hermione nodded, keeping eye contact so he wouldn't think she was afraid. "Quid pro quo. I have t-t-t-to give you s-so-something in ret-return. I-I can pay that price."
Riddle seemed happy to hear that. She felt as though her heart were going to pound right out of her chest. In an attempt to calm down, she reminded herself that she didn't have much, so Riddle couldn't take much. She could lose one object in exchange for helping to save the wizarding world.
Riddle smiled, and Hermione's stomach flopped. He was so attractive.
He was Voldemort. She needed to keep that at the front of her mind at all times. He traced one finger down the side of her face, and she turned her head away.
"There's no point in fighting me," he said, amusement evident in his voice. "I've seen what you desire."
"O-only answers," she responded. "I want to know the fastest way to destroy a Horcrux, and what of Ravenclaw's you might use to make one."
"No. You will give me what I want, first."
"But the spell... It binds you-"
"And it binds you as well. If you cannot abide by that, you-"
"I can," Hermione said quickly. She didn't have a choice.
Riddle grabbed a handful of Hermione's nightgown, gathering more and more of it into his fist and raising it above her waist. She gasped, instinctively grabbing his wrist to stop him.
"What are you doing?" she demanded. It was only after the words were out of her mouth that she realized how stupid she sounded.
"I am claiming what is mine," he answered, continuing to pull up her nightgown.
She hadn't anticipated this. As much as she'd craved him, as much as she'd fantasized about him, she'd never expected anything would ever come of it. "Is-Isn't there... Don't you want something else?"
"Your obedience."
Hermione looked around, desperate for a way out. Without her wand, she couldn't send him back, and even if she could, she would come out of this with no new information, nothing that could help. If Lily and James could sacrifice their lives, she could sacrifice her virginity. It was so small by comparison. She let go of his wrist.
Snaking his hand behind the small of her back, he pulled her against him and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was ice; it sucked the warmth from her body, froze her lungs. She pushed him back, grabbing her stomach and gasping for breath. Her skin was cold to the touch, and something inside her felt different, but she couldn't pinpoint what changed.
Riddle was agitated, and Hermione knew she'd made a mistake. This time, she was sure his eyes shifted color to a glaring red before returning to normal. She took a step back, fear closing her throat.
"You're a foolish girl," Riddle said, stepping forward.
His fingers closed around her wrist, and, from what Hermione was sure was out of nowhere, he produced a blue bracelet with eagles adorning it all around. He snapped it around her wrist, then enclosed her other wrist in an identical bracelet. It wasn't until he let her go that she noticed a thin, silver chain linked the bracelets. She tried to break the chain, but it was far stronger than it looked.
"Wh-what are you going to do?" she asked.
Riddle took both her hands in his and raised them above her head. She didn't know how he did it, but when he let her go, she found she couldn't lower them; they were bound to the wall behind her.
She didn't understand. He shouldn't have been able to do that. The usual rules of magic weren't applying. It hit her then how naive she'd been to think they would. She'd conjured dark magic to do this, to bring Riddle back even temporarily. She'd asked that the usual rules be ignored, and now they were.
Panic struck her in a force stronger than it yet had. There were many ways she'd expected this experience to go, but she didn't want to be helpless in Voldemort's presence.
"This... It isn't necessary," she said softly. "I'll stop trying to stop you."
He paid her no heed, taking the top of her gown in his hands. With little trouble, he tore the thin material in half and let it crumple in a heap to the floor. He surveyed her body impassively, and she felt heat rise to her face.
With all her book smarts, she'd failed to learn stronger words for uncomfortable and humiliating. It would have been useful to have those words to understand what she was feeling. She wanted to cover herself, to escape that indifferent gaze as Riddle took her in. She twisted in her restraints as though that would block his view rather than present him with a new one.
Riddle stepped forward, his robes brushing her skin. He took her breast in one hand, and she balled her hands into fists, determined not to beg him to let her go. Someone else's hands on her body this intimately unnerved her. Absurd though she knew it was not to have known, it was more personal than she had imagined it would be, and she feared what it would feel like when Riddle became even more intimate.
He watched her face as he lowered his head enough so that his extended tongue touched her nipple. She swallowed hard and looked straight ahead, reminding herself that this was what was necessary, that she had wanted this, and that if she wanted her answers, too, she better relax and enjoy it. She felt his lips close around her, suckling on the sensitive skin until her cunt began to tingle.
Hermione wondered if Riddle knew that. Almost as soon as she felt it, his free hand descended between her legs, tracing a light trail over the front of her knickers. His tongue began to swirl faster, and she bucked into his touch.
Lifting his head, he brought his mouth close to hers. "Part your legs," he ordered.
Hermione hesitated. She knew what her own hand felt like, but had only heard through Lavender and Parvati's frantic squeals what someone else's did. She couldn't imagine it was anything less than a horribly awkward and imposing action. Closing her eyes, she spread her legs shoulder-width apart.
One finger traced the crotch of her knickers, a light touch that still felt good. He lingered over one spot, increasing the pressure slightly, and her breathing became heavier. His lips touched hers, brushing them lightly before kissing her completely again.
She wondered if a Dementor's Kiss was any worse. It felt like he was pulling her soul out of her, replacing it with cold air that froze her blood. His tongue entered her mouth, gently exploring. Another surprise; she'd expected him to be harsher, more demanding. But he hadn't got to where he was without being able to fake finesse, had he?
She did her best to return the kiss, moving her mouth with his, flicking her own tongue in response to his. The cold was only getting worse. She couldn't breathe. His ministrations grew more aggressive; he was no longer teasing her with light touches, he was pressing two fingers against her cunt, releasing the pressure, and repeating the action.
Her hips were rolling in time with his pumping. She wished it didn't feel so good, but couldn't deny the yearning that was beginning to build inside her. Without thinking about it, she shut her legs, capturing his hand, hoping he would increase the pace of what he was doing. He stopped moving his fingers immediately.
Brushing his lips against her ear, he repeated, "Part your legs." When she didn't comply immediately, he bit her earlobe and ordered, "Do it. Now."
Breathing heavily, she did as he commanded. His fingers began to play at her crotch again, light and teasing. Her thighs trembled with the effort to keep them spread. When he slid his finger over her fabric-covered clit, she pushed her waist into his hand, trying to grind against it for more pressure.
Riddle smirked, but said nothing. He didn't need to; Hermione's own thoughts were taunt enough. She was writhing for Lord Voldemort, shamelessly trying to ride his hand. And the only thing that made it worse was that half of her didn't care and wanted more.
She closed her eyes, trying to enjoy the sensation and not beg him for more. Her head was pressed against the wall, her hips bucking, her eyes watering with tears of frustration.
She felt his mouth close around her nipple again, his tongue teasing just as torturously as his fingers and only making her wetter, making her crave his touch even more. A moan escaped her lips, and her legs felt like they wouldn't support her weight anymore. Merlin, she needed him.
His fingers left her, and she opened her eyes. He continued tasting her nipple, but his hand disappeared inside his robes. Her stomach began to flutter wildly in anticipation of what was coming. When his hand emerged again, it held his erect cock, its tip glistening even in the dark. She couldn't see it clearly, however; Riddle's body was blocking her view.
When he straightened up, she couldn't help but look down. He was bigger than the diagrams she had seen would have suggested, and far longer and thicker than her own fingers. She was happy she had at least familiarized herself with what one would look like, otherwise she expected she might have been surprised or scared at what she saw.
Her panting increased. His cock didn't scare her, but she was still afraid. He was big, he was aroused, and he was going inside her in a matter of seconds. She'd read what to expect, and it didn't calm her to recall that information.
With his free hand, he hooked his fingers inside the waistband of her knickers and pulled, rending them in two. She gasped at the rush of air on her body. Unconsciously, she pressed closer to the wall, clenching her fists and bracing herself.
Riddle slid his arm around her back, gliding it down to caress her arse, and take her legs in his hands. He wrapped her legs around his body, angling her body so that he could easily push into her. Hermione tried to stifle her cry of pain, but Riddle slid into her quickly, giving her body no time to stretch and accommodate him, and she whimpered. Riddle didn't pause as he entered her, pulled out, and thrust in again. He wasn't pounding into her, but neither was he being gentle.
When Hermione imagined what sex was like, she thought of something far different than what she was experiencing. Though Riddle's cock felt warm, each time he thrust into her, she felt that burst of coldness turning her insides to ice. Yet, inexplicably, it was pleasant, and she pushed back against him, matching his pace as best she could.
Her back was sliding against the wall, the rough grains scratching her skin. She didn't care, allowing herself to move along it; sliding up as he pulled out, lowering herself as he pushed in.
She never knew anything could feel so good and so bad at the same time. The cold was no longer emanating from him alone. It had wrapped itself around her organs, sunk itself into her muscles. Yet she couldn't stop fucking Riddle and, more distressingly, couldn't stop herself from wanting to.
Riddle reached between their bodies, seeking out her clit. Grasping it firmly between his thumb and forefinger, he pinched and stroked it. Hermione gasped, arching into him even as he continued to fuck her. The feelings running through her body were like none she'd ever felt before. It was an intense pleasure that kept building until she thought it couldn't possibly get any stronger. Riddle continued fondling her clit, coaxing her orgasm from her.
Hermione screamed as she came, the world a swirling, indistinct mass as the greatest pleasure she ever felt overtook her entire being. When she recovered enough to be aware of her surroundings once more, she realized Riddle was still thrusting, but his movements had slowed. The feeling of him still inside her, his fingers still on her clit, gave Hermione the sensation that she might come again. Her cunt was still tingling, her body utterly exhausted, and she didn't think she had the energy to do it again.
She didn't know if Riddle himself was near release; she had no point of reference to determine the signs. But she didn't want this to end with her bound to a wall. She'd always imagined that her first time would be loving, gentle, full of caresses and reassuring touches, and with Ron. She couldn't have most of that, but at the very least, she wanted to touch the man taking so much from her.
"P-Please." Her voice was hardly above a whisper. "Please... Let me touch you."
Riddle's free hand traveled up Hermione's body, over her breast, up her arms, to the bracelets that bound her to the wall. He kissed her again, and the coldness inside her was complete. She was sure her skin was hardening from the cold. He started to increase his pace again, and Hermione tightened her legs around his waist. She still didn't have the energy to meet him with equal vigor, but he felt so wonderful inside her, that she wanted to hold him there as long as possible.
Her arms fell free, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. His fingers, motionless since her orgasm, began to pinch her clit again. It was seconds before she was coming again, all her nerves on fire, all her senses overloaded. It wasn't until she descended her high that she realized she'd been moved to tears. She buried her face in the crook of Riddle's neck, panting and utterly spent.
Riddle thrust into her a few more times before stilling. Hermione felt a contracting and releasing of muscles that were not hers accompanied by spurts of Riddle's warm release. He waited only a moment before pulling out, holding Hermione against the wall as he did so. Once he was free of her body, he let her go and removed the bracelets. Riddle's semen flowed out of her, trickling down her thighs and legs until the carpet beneath her feet absorbed them. Knees weak, she leaned against the wall for support.
He turned away from her, moving to the spot in the room at which he had first arrived. Hermione felt her heart jolt. She didn't understand what he was doing or planning to do.
"My questions," she reminded him. "You have-"
"Yes," he said, turning to face her. She saw that he had put his cock away. His eyes fell on Darkest Magic and he stared at it a moment, before placing his hand, palm down, just inches from the surface. The pages began to turn rapidly, like a fierce wind was blowing them. Then, suddenly, they stopped.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"You have the knowledge you sought," he answered.
His form began to blur into a blob again. It darkened, turning black, with a gold speck whirling in its mist. It twisted and shrunk in on itself, then, like something were pulling it, funneled directly into the gold speck until all that was left was the Horcrux, lying still on the floor.
Hermione felt as though the air had vanished with Riddle. She couldn't breathe, could hardly move. Somehow, she'd mucked up the spell; Riddle was gone, and she didn't have any answers. Her last resort hadn't worked. And now she was left to clean up the mess, both figuratively, and, as she shifted position and felt his come on her legs, literally as well.
She bathed until her skin felt raw, chastising herself for her mistakes and stupidity all the while. Hermione Granger was seldom reckless and never stupid. She had to have been someone else that night, that was the only explanation. Something had taken over her mind; she can't have been acting of her own volition.
Inside, there was a hollow space that hadn't been there before. It was a cold, deep place, and she couldn't figure out what was missing, or what, besides the chill, had taken residence in her.
She fought back her tears, but they still escaped. When she got back to the room she shared with Ginny, she searched the darkness for her wand. When she found it, she burned her nightgown and knickers, wanting no reminder of this night. She pulled on a fresh nightgown, curled up in bed, and let herself cry out her frustrations and feelings of being used.
She didn't sleep at all.
In the morning, she didn't move until Ginny threatened to hex her bed into something called a rack, which she learned about in Muggle Studies. Hermione reluctantly joined Ginny in preparing for the day.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked.
"Of course," she lied. "I was up all night, trying to get answers. It didn't work." Without thinking, she pulled Ginny into a hug. "I'm so sorry for what Voldemort did to you," she whispered.
"Erm. Thanks." She pulled away gently. "You should really put that back," Ginny advised, nodding her head at the desk. "I would, but..."
Hermione looked to see what Ginny was talking about. She'd forgotten to replace the Horcrux in its hiding place; it was sitting beside Darkest Magic. A careless mistake atypical of her. She went to do as Ginny requested, picking up the locket, and pausing when she saw the page the book was open to. She began to read, more out of habit than any genuine interest in the contents. The more she read, the more excited she become. It was a potion, and on the opposite page, a spell. Her breath caught, she grabbed the book, and raced upstairs to find Harry and Ron.
"I've got it!" she exclaimed, bursting into the room without knocking.
Ron was pulling up his trousers, and fell in his attempt to hide himself from her view. Harry looked up from tying a shoelace.
"Got what?"
"I found out how to destroy the locket." She sat on Ron's bed, placing the book where they could all easily see it if they gathered around. "See?" Pointing at the page, she said, "This is the potion. Well beyond N.E.W.T. level. It's probably in Moste Potent Potions, but I couldn't find a copy in Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley, and I haven't read the book in years, so I didn't know. Anyway, this potion. It's like a poison, but not exactly. Its name means killer of souls. It was named after the wizard who invented it. He wanted a way to destroy his enemies that couldn't be traced. He figured if someone's soul were to just... evaporate, no one would-"
"Hermione," Ron cut in. "We don't care. Do we just drop the Horcrux in?"
"After we say this incantation over it, yes. But it's a complicated potion, and I don't know if Riddle's soul will just evaporate, but it will be gone." As realization hit her, she blurted out, "And I know what one of the other Horcurxes is. It's Ravenclaw's bracelet. There was a short mention of it in Hogwarts, A History, and I bet with a little more research, we can find it easily enough. Now that we know where to look."
"This is perfect," Harry said, poring over the pages. "We can do this today, can't we?"
"Yeah," Ron agreed enthusiastically. "If-"
"It'll take a week," Hermione added. "But we can start today."
"That fast?" Harry asked, beaming. "It took longer to make the Polyjuice Potion."
Hermione just stopped herself from saying she had asked for the fastest way. Instead she just said, "Ironic, I know. I don't think this will work on all the other Horcruxes. Just this one, because the soul is easy to find in it."
"It's the best start we've got," Ron said. "Come on. I've got my old cauldron in the closet. We can start now."
They collected the necessary ingredients, only to find there were rare ingredients not in the house. Consequently, they had to wait for Mr. Weasley to get them from the Ministry. He had difficultly, getting through the different departments, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were forced to wait.
As they waited around restlessly on the afternoon of the third day, Hermione retreated to her and Ginny's room, pulled the locket from its hiding place, and contemplated it in silence for a while. She remembered how it had transfixed her, how Riddle had controlled her even without the aid of direct communication. The empty feeling inside her was still there. Her insides were still cold. When she found herself tempted - compelled - to put the locket on once again, she hurried to lock it away, and decided not to pull it out again until the potion was ready.
Someone knocked on the doorframe as Hermione locked the outermost chest. She turned to see Ron shifting uncomfortably, and smiled.
"Is your dad back?"
He shook his head. "No. Erm. I want to talk to you."
"Okay." She tilted her head to one side. "Something wrong?"
"No. I just wanted to say..." He entered the room, coming closer until he was in arm's length of her. "I mean, I want to tell you that... You were right. Like always." He laughed nervously. "Let's stop messing about."
Hermione's stomach twisted. Her smile widened. "Are you saying... Yes. I want that, too."
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down until their noses touched. "Good."
He kissed her softly. She tensed at first, images of her night with Riddle flashing through he mind. After barely a moment, though, she relaxed. It was nothing like her kiss with Riddle, and somehow better than her kiss with Krum, and she knew it was because this was with Ron, with the person she truly wanted. She was just beginning to melt into the kiss when someone else spoke.
"Oh, sorry. Bad timing. Bad, bad timing."
She and Ron broke apart and looked at the doorway to see Ginny trying to make a graceful exit. Neither of them tried to stop her, returning to their kiss as if there had been no interruption.
It took another two days for Mr. Weasley to get all the ingredients they needed. When he gave them to Hermione, she hurried to find Harry and Ron so they could concoct the brew. As Hermione had said, it took a week before it was fully prepared, but none of them minded waiting. When the day finally came, they eagerly gathered around the cauldron to destroy the Horcrux
As Hermione stirred the thick, yellow substance, Harry chanted the spell and Ron dropped the Horcrux inside. It bubbled, fizzed, and hissed. They covered their faces and moved out of range of the popping liquid that changed color to purple, then green, then black, before becoming clear. When it had been quiet for a substantial period of time, they moved closer. The potion was gone, and the locket lay open on the bottom of the cauldron.
Harry pulled the locket out to examine it. Ron wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and kissed her cheek. Hermione was so busy feeling both proud and relieved that she didn't have anything to say.
Hermione still felt horrible inside, but tried to focus on Ron. She'd waited a long time for him, and she deserved to keep him. She allowed herself to take comfort in the fact that the Riddle who had used her was gone and he would never return. It was cold comfort, but that was better than nothing.