Taming The Serpent [Tom Riddle/Tomione]

O5. Penelope's Suspicions

'One of the hardest decisions you'll ever face in life

is whether to walk away or try harder.'

The sparkly, golden necklace was hanging loosely around Hermione's chest as she paced back and forth in her dormitory. Her fingers traced the hourglass absentmindedly, her thoughts running wildly in her mind.

The sun was coming up: The pale vastness of the sky stretched over Hogwarts, indifferent to her and her suffering. Hermione finally sat down in the four-posted bed, the blue and silver duvets were smooth under her skin. She had been awake all night, despite her roommates' snores, pondering if her decision had been the right one. She allowed herself to take a deep breath of air, her lungs expanding against her ribcage in a comforting way.

"Can't sleep?"

Fear and shock filled inside her, her heart thumping by her ears: for several moments, Hermione could not speak. She turned ever so slightly, Penelope's groggy eyes landing on the shiny object around her neck.

"What's that you got there?" asked the blonde, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wipe her exhaustion away.

"Nothing!" said Hermione at once, her voice had risen a few octaves; she grabbed the hourglass, staring at it for a few seconds, before sighing and removing it from her neck, placing it neatly inside her trunk, where it had been since she arrived. "Just a necklace my mom gave me. Did I wake you?"

"Well, kind of!" she said, glaring around at Ursulla's sleeping face. "But I can always go back to sleep-" She eyed Hermione curiously, "-- unless you want to talk, of course."

"No. I'm alright, go back to sleep." said Hermione, and now she sounded a bit stern.

"As you wish," Mumbled Penelope, her sleepy voice muffled by the blue duvets. Her head landed on the pillow at once, silent snores drifting from her not too long after.

Without realizing it, Hermione was staring at the wooden trunk by her feet with the initials H.L. neatly engraved in it, where the H.G. should be. She was scared she had made wrong decision, putting herself and the others in risk once again. If she were to leave, she'd get her life back, fighting alongside Harry and Ronald, defeating dark Witches and Wizards as their lives progressed. She knew exactly what would wait her in the future: A world of chaos and strive; dark followers killing innocent lives for power, while the good ones would stand on the other side, their wands at ready as the wave of darkness neared them; only in that world, the Dark Lord wouldn't have white skin, bald head, red eyes and snake-like slits for a nose. In that world Tom Riddle wouldn't exist, for he would be long dead.

If she were to stay, however, she could prevent many deaths, (including Dumbledore's) many wars; she could try harder, and accomplish her mission, pushing Riddle away from the Dark Arts. Hermione looked frightened that Tom might curse her for not telling him about Trelawney's warning, who that Wizard would've been to her and all the Wizarding World. Her face streaked with tears as she laid down, her face burying on the pillow. As the quietness of her whereabouts pulled her closer and closer toward the dark, Hermione's tired mind allowed it, and she fell into dreamless slumber, with her decision made on her mind.

She would stay, to protect Harry, Ron, Ginny, her parents, and everyone else she cared deeply about. They would forget about her, and it pained Hermione to no end, knowing she'd have to live with the hurt of loving someone who wouldn't even know her name if they were to cross paths... People that she would too, forget.

♡

The sun had fully risen by now, providing some warmness to the chilly October weather. Hermione sat at the far back of the Library, going over all her books and parchments, studying, memorizing everything. The exam was in two days: the papers full of questions waiting to be answered correctly, answers that would dictate if she would, or not, be able to start her seventh year. Her mind kept drifting from the inked words before her eyes to the mere thoughts of never seeing Harry or Ron ever again. She let out a distraught cry, pushing the pile of books away, her hands shielding her eyes as she poured her emotions out.