Flight of the Stars

Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: The idea that I own Harry Potter is about as likely as the idea that my father is the inventor of Toaster Strudel.

o-0-o

The following weeks, Hermione pushed herself to excel harder than ever. Now that Riddle knew she was intelligent, and since they had made their pact in the library, she assumed it was safe to try and pass him in their marks; he was certainly the only person she had ever had to work hard to beat. She would stay up late in the dark common room, long after everyone had gone to bed, reviewing all of the different laws of Transfiguration, or the twelve uses of dragon's blood, or studying hard for an examination.

Hermione knew, although he didn't mention it, that he was doing the same.

It was making her lose sleep at night, actually. She would sometimes lie in her dormitory bed for hours on end, reciting different spells or incantations or potions instructions, and even though she knew, deep down, that none of this would ever matter, especially if she found a way to return to her own time, her pride refused to let her back down, or not be the most intelligent one in the room.

So she studied and studied and studied, and although it was reminiscent of her third year, and not particularly in a good way, and her eyelids grew dark from lack of sleep, she continued to push herself, and people in the hallway whispered about the new girl, who was surely the brightest witch of her age, and how they'd heard that she was homeschooled and possibly self-taught, and how no one could rival her except for Tom Riddle. How they would probably someday change the world.

Hermione found it darkly funny how much that was true. Her time was completely different from this one, and it was all because of her Transfiguration partner, and her rival. He would change the world, just not in the way that they thought.

The handsome aristocratic seventeen-year-old – her age, as a matter of fact – sitting right next to her, performing the assignment Dumbledore had given them, and trying to do it more perfectly than anyone else in order to gain an extra ten points for Slytherin.

It was all rather odd, really.

Hermione twirled her vine wand in her fingers as she watched him summon a snake, enlarge it using Engorgio, and proceed to Transfigure it into a spider with an almost bored ease. She didn't know why in Merlin's name anyone would need to do that in real life, but it was a rather interesting assignment. Her own spider, large and hairy and completely revolting, sat on her desk, clicking its pincers rather menacingly.

She wished Dumbledore would hurry up and check it so that she could change it into something more pleasant.

As Riddle stared at his spider, something strange happened. The spider, which had been sitting placidly on his desk, suddenly scurried back and forth, reared on its hind legs, and then began to click its pincers in a peculiar rhythm. He gazed at it with a twisted, almost satisfied smile on his face, and Hermione suddenly understood. He was using the Imperius Curse on it.

She supposed she shouldn't be surprised; she wasn't, really. Mostly she was just curious as to why he was doing it in front of her, why he wasn't hiding behind his perfect Head Boy act. She closed her eyes and shook her head. At least he wasn't making it hurt itself, or something.

Hermione hadn't realized she'd said that last part aloud until he'd snapped his head up to stare at her. "You know what I am doing," he said. It wasn't a question, and he smiled slightly. "How, if you are homeschooled?"

"I thought we'd agreed to not pry?" she snapped, and his eyes glittered. "Yes, but you just make it so easy, Granger. It's as if... you are not even trying anymore."

She cast a Muffliato and leaned toward him, tilting her head. "You aren't either, Riddle. Performing the Imperius Curse where everyone can see you? Really?"