//// Sequel to The Charm of a Riddle////
Hermione Granger is back to Hogwarts, after risking literally everything and traveling back in time with Draco Malfoy in order to be with her one true love....Tom Riddle.
As they each grow closer, closer th...
Her heart stopped, starring into the stern gaze of Tom Riddle. His eyes that held a darkness that she had only ever seen upon meeting him.
Her hand was lightly held in Abraxas's. She instinctively rubbed the back of his with her thumb as to calm him down. He was her friend. She didn't wish anyone to get hurt by this.
"Come here darling." Tom cooed calmly.
Hermione felt his voice was off. Darling? She thought curiously. He had never called her darling.
She held his gaze, squeezing tighter onto Abraxas. She didn't move.
"I am not mad, Come." He spoke extending a hand.
She shook her head in question. Tom Riddle became infuriated if you so much as implied he liked a subject he didn't.
"I said come, now"
Come to me. A voice traveled through the air and into her mind. She didn't wish to, yet her feet found a way of there own, walking forward steadily after she dropped Abraxas's hand.
She reached Toms side and his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her to the side of him.
Stay the voice hissed.
He leaned towards her ear, inhaling slightly before he spoke to her skin. "You're not a witch are you mudblood?"
Her heart started beating out of proportion. She knew it wasn't Riddle.
Stay
But she couldn't move. She was under the imperious curse.
"Now" He spoke, his sights back on Abraxas. "Where is Dumbledore?"
"Tom, we didn't- I didn't." He started.
The person beside Hermione squeezed her a bit tighter in his grasp, his eyes filling with cruelty. "I SAID, WHERE IS ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!"
Hermione shut her eyes as his voice raged beside her. She was trying to focus. If she could only move a bit.
Stay
Move move move move move move move. She repeated over and over again.
Her hand fell free, and she extended her fingers just to make sure. It felt cold and barren. It was just the effects of the curse wearing off—Or being broke.
She started to reach toward her back pocket where her wand was held. Although it was a daunting task. His grip firm on her hip was now impossible to ignore.
"I, Tom—".
"Crucio!" He seethed, the spell colliding with Abraxas's chest as he fell to the ground. He whirthered. And screamed, and all Hermione could do was keep reaching for her wand. Otherwise she was useless. She couldn't look. She couldn't listen.
Her hand finally reached the back of her jean pocket, but her fingers grasped in panic. There was nothing there.
"Poor mudblood." The figure pouted, turning his head towards her. "Is something the matter?" He asked with a malicious smirk.
Think Hermione, Think.
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