Chapter 5: Deceiving the Deceiver
Inside the diary, Tom was seething. 'So the girl wanted to play, huh? Well, she shall soon rue the day when she tried to deceive Lord Voldemort,' Tom thought viciously. Yes, he knew very well that it was Potter's Mudblood and not "Emma" who was writing to him. Honestly, the chit was supposed to be the smartest witch of her age, and she was stupid enough to attempt to hoodwink him, Lord Voldemort, and think that he would remain woefully ignorant to her trickery.
Surely, she didn't even consider the fact that he could tell her identity from her magical signature (which is not unlike a fingerprint and is unique to each witch or wizard). However, in order to teach her not to underestimate him ever again, he would play along for now, and turn her "brilliant" plan against her to his advantage. In fact, underestimating Tom Marvolo Riddle would probably be the last thing Hermione Jean Granger would ever do.
Yes, let her pour her heart and—quite literally—her soul into him. And then, before she could realize her huge error, he would possess her when he was strong enough, and finish the business that he had started long ago with that infernal Potter boy and the Order of the Chicken, and because they love and trust Granger, they would never suspect a thing until it was too late, the fools.
'But I must not get ahead of myself, once I have possessed her, I will lure the boy and his disgusting blood-traitor friend into a trap, and my older, more corporeal, counterpart will take care of them, including the vexing Hermione Granger,' schemed Tom. 'If I can just get the Mudblood to keep writing, this plan shall be foolproof. I have been far too careless, when it comes to Harry Potter, and have let other people do my dirty work for me in the past. Well, it just goes to show that if you want something done properly, you must do it yourself.'
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Hermione was off in a pleasant dream-land where there was no Dark Lord, and her, Harry, and Ron were together at Hogwarts and Ron was holding her hand. Suddenly, screams pierced the fantasy like a knife, and she awoke to harsh cold reality. The screams were coming from Harry, who was thrashing in his bunk and clutching his forehead in agony. Hermione quickly went over to him and comforted him until it seemed like the pain had subsided.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked, his face looking a little green, but with an expression of concern on it.
"Riddle," Harry responded shakily, as if that one word explained everything, and it did. "He is still looking for the blonde-haired thief, and he keeps torturing and killing people, including women and children, to get information about that boy."
"That's sick!" Ron exclaimed with disgust.
"Well, it's Volde—" Harry began, but was interrupted by Ron shouting, "Don't say his name! It's 'You-Know-Who'!"
Harry gave Ron an exasperated look and said irritably, "Fine, then. It's You-Know-Who we're talking about, though, so of course it is sick and twisted. Besides, that's all fine and dandy for you to say, but you didn't have to watch helplessly while these people died, and especially since I see though his eyes while he does this, it is even more unnerving because it feels like I am the one torturing and murdering them."
"Oh, Harry…," Hermione said, putting her hand in Harry's, and not seeing the jealous look that Ron had thrown their way.
"Look, I don't want your pity. I just want Riddle dead, so that everyone can live peacefully, and since I am the Chosen One, that might come at the price of my own life. No, Hermione, don't give me that look. I accepted the fact that I might die in the process of defeating him a while ago. It's worth dying for as long as I eventually bring him down with me."
It was times like this that Hermione admired Harry for his bravery and nobility, although he definitely had a hero-complex. Although she was a Gryffindor, Hermione doubted that she could ever be as brave as Harry. To keep your head held high when facing possible death, now that was a quality that many people did not possess, but Harry was one of the precious few who did.
"But not without our help, of course," Hermione said, and Ron nodded his head in agreement. Harry gave them a small smile. Hermione knew that Harry had given up on trying to persuade them not to assist him with bringing down Voldemort. 'He can be so thick at times,' Hermione thought with an inward sigh, remembering how he had tried to tell them to not help in the search for Voldemort's Horcruxes. They were all in this together, and Harry had finally realized that, even though it had taken a little while for that to sink in.
"I'm going out to get some fresh air," Harry announced, getting up from the bed and marching for the tent flap.
Hermione and Ron watched him step out into the brisk September air without another word. They made eye contact, and, for a split second, it seemed as if they were the only two people who existed in the world (at least to Hermione), but Hermione was the first to look away, her face hot and more than a bit pink. Ron cleared his throat, the tips of his ears red, and stuttered, "Forgot to, er, to tell Harry something…be right back."
Hermione watched him leave with a sigh. "Boys," she muttered under her breath when she was alone.
Harry's nightmare had only fueled her fury to get rid of Voldemort. So, Hermione decided to do the only thing that she could do to exact her revenge against the Dark Lord: Write in the diary again. Hermione retrieved the diary and a quill, got back into her bunk, and drew the curtains around her bed, knowing that Harry and Ron would not disturb her if they thought she had gone back to sleep. She composed herself for a minute or two before setting her quill to the blank page to begin writing, for no one enjoyed talking to Lord Voldemort, and one had to keep one's wits about them in order to do so.
'Hello, Tom,' she wrote.
'Hello, Emma. How are you?'
'I'm well. What about you?'
'Excluding the fact that I am trapped inside of a diary, I am also well.'
Suddenly, an idea popped into Hermione's head. 'Oh, this should be good,' she thought, smiling to herself. 'What were your parents like? Were they nice or strict? I don't mean to pry, but I'm just curious.'
'I never knew my parents. My mother died just after I was born, and my father died many years ago.'
'Yeah, after you murdered him,' Hermione thought with disgust. What she wrote next practically made her gag. 'Oh, I didn't know. I'm so sorry. Gosh, how insensitive am I? You poor thing!' ('Poor thing, indeed,' she mentally snorted.)
'Don't be sorry. How could you have known?'
God, Riddle was good. Really, really good, Hermione realized. He used just the right amount of charm, and, of course, he played the "poor orphan boy" card flawlessly. No wonder everyone was so charmed by him during his school days. If Hermione didn't know who he truly was underneath the façade, she probably would have been put under his spell, as well, and that fact frightened her slightly.
'Are you there?'
'Oh, yes. Sorry, I was just thinking about what you had written. May I ask you a question'?
'I believe you just did,' was the sarcastic response.
'That's not what I meant and you know it.'
'Sure.'
'How old were you when your father died?'
'I was sixteen-years-old.'
'If you were sixteen when he passed away, how is it that you never knew him?'
'He abandoned my mother when she was pregnant, and she died just after giving birth to me, living just long enough to name me. I grew up in an orphanage before coming to Hogwarts, and I don't think my father even knew he had a son. Or maybe he did, but he just didn't care. Anyway, he was murdered by my uncle, my mother's brother, along with my grandparents. So you see, I never knew my father.'
Hermione's eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she read this. She had not expected him to tell her something so close to the truth, and it made her slightly suspicious. Tom Riddle was a very reserved person, who entrusted his secrets to no one else but himself, so by nearly revealing one of the things he has tried to conceal over the years—his Muggle heritage—to someone who was supposed to be almost a complete stranger was more than a bit out of character for him. Then again, he could have just been trying to win "Emma" over with a sob story, which seemed more like his style.
'I—,' she wrote, but she stopped as she heard footsteps and a pair of male voices approaching the tent. Hermione slammed the diary shut, and hastily hid it under her pillow.
"Hermione, are you awake?" asked Ron when both he and Harry had made it through the opening of the tent.
"Obviously," she replied as she opened the curtains around her bed.
"What were you doing that required the curtains to be closed?" Ron inquired with a suspicious tone in his voice.
"If you must know, Ronald, I was simply writing in my journal. Now, are you quite finished invading my privacy?" Hermione said in annoyance.
"Sorry, 'Mione," he responded apologetically.
"I think that we should try to go back to sleep," Harry suggested.
"That sounds like a good idea, but are you sure that you will be able to sleep?" Hermione said.
"Yeah. Pretty sure. I'm exhausted." And with that, the trio crawled back into bed and they all fell asleep instantly, with the exception of Hermione, who was laying awake, thinking about Riddle and the diary.
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Tom couldn't believe the nerve of the girl. She had had the audacity to ask him about his "family" when she knew very well what had happened; therefore, he had decided to knock her through a loop and tell her something that was disturbingly close to the truth. Although when he thought about it now, he wasn't sure that that was exactly the best idea, for she might get suspicious as to why he revealed that much information to her.
Knowing Granger, he knew that he should not make the mistake of underestimating her, but it was a little hard not to when she pulled a stunt like the on she did. At the same time, though, she underestimated him and his abilities, and it is not particularly smart to underestimate Lord Voldemort. Yes, he would definitely teach the filthy Mudblood a lesson.
Fading Ink by Wicked Sapphira
Chapter Endnotes: Author's Note: Please, please review! I apologize for the bit of Ron/Hermione in this chapter. I don't like Ron as a character and I do not think that I could ever see them as a couple, but I think that it is essential to the story that I have it in there if I want to adhere to DH canon. Don't worry—there will eventually be romantic Hermione/Tom action (after all, I did put this in the "Romance" category), but it might be a while because you just can't force that sort of relationship and still have the story be believable (well, as believable as fanfiction can be, anyway).