AN: I apologize for taking so long on this. I don’t know why I was stuck. Maybe the action scenes, I have like zero experience with fight scenes though I try. This is also not dark at all. I hope you like it though :)
Warnings: Muggle!violence, AU where the Trio grew up in Tom Riddle’s time, and all that this AU verse entails, and typos (I am sorry for those!)
She wasn’t sure why she had done it, but that hardlymattered at the moment. The whys and the hows to things were simplyinconsequential once she had turned her attention away from the interestingbook on her lap, and towards the commotion a short distance away. The sightmade something clench unpleasantly in her stomach. Her teeth clenched angrily,her jaw practically pressing the crowns into one another at the sight of theolder boys picking on Tom. The ten-year old wasn’t necessarily nice to her—hehad a sharp tongue and often gave her the cold shoulder when she tried to speakto him.
Hell, she barely even knew the kid. But that did not mean hedeserved to be treated like dirt.
These boys were vicious—it was almost as if they hadsomething personally against Tom. She didn’t quite understand it. Of course,she had only been living in the Orphanage for a few months now, spending mostof her time at Hogwarts, but in the one summer that she had lived there, shehad yet to see Tom do anything to incite this kind of behavior. She hadoverheard plenty of rumors from the children about his freakishness and thestrange events that occurred around him, but after watching the boy closely forweeks, nothing had confirmed such rumors.
Though, even if there was something different about the boy,that did not justify the antics of children Tom’s age, or even the boys her ownage.
Because really, what could a sodding ten year old possiblydo? Sure, at his age, she had bouts of accidental magic under her record toearn her a lifetime of judgment when she was his age. But as far as she knew,the boy did not have a magical bone in his body.
Normally, she didn’t get involved in the scuffles thatoccurred between the groups of boys at the Orphanage. It was never serious—neverfurther than a mean comment delivered by the older boys to Tom or vice versa. Itwas tasteless, but harmless.
But when she saw Billy Stubbs push Tom into ground, amalicious grin on his face, she knew she had had enough.
She was moving before she even realized it, rising fromwhere she’d been sitting with a book curled on her lap, to rush between theother boys and Tom. Billy Stubbs and his group of friends should know better,they clearly outnumbered Tom and were at least four years older. It wascompletely inappropriate.
The injustice of it made her blood boil.
“What the blood hell do you think you’re doing?” Sheseethed, uncaring of the fact that the boys were also much larger than her andoutnumbered her. She may not have been allowed to use her wand outside ofschool, but that did not mean she was above getting her hands dirty if the boystried to her hurt as well.
Her first few weeks had been rough, but she had learned theropes of how things were done at the Orphanage. They hardly bothered her forbooks since few of them could even read, but they definitely made attempts tosteal her clothes.
But Tom Riddle was entirely unlike her, he had lived herehis entire life from what she understood—a fact Mrs. Cole spoke too often of. Shewas like a broken record with how frquently she talked about the boy; her tone frosty.The woman had never told her exactly why she treated him like he were some sortof diseased animal, but Hermione was perfectly content with not knowing. Sofar, she had seen nothing amiss and she would not let opinions of impressionablechildren and the neglectful woman sway her. She could form her own opinionsperfectly well, thank you.
“Get out of the way, broomhead. Our business is with thatlittle freak behind you.” Hermione bristled at the name, the mention of herunruly curls enough to bring back memories of her own times in primary school.
“I don’t care what business you have with Tom, you are goingto turn your arses around and leave him alone. It’s pathetic, really.” Shesniffed, stepping further in their space when Billy and the two other boysbehind him she didn’t know, refused to move. She knew it wasn’t intimidatingfor a dainty girl to threaten them, but it was in that underestimation that shewould strike.
“Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it? You’re justsome girl.” Billy sneered, and the boys at his back laughed cruelly. She couldpractically sense the malice there, the desire to hurt apparent in the way theycracked there knuckles and straightened up higher.
As if his height would really make much of a difference. Hisarrogance would be his mistake.
“If you step aside, we might even overl—” She didn’t letBilly finish his speech, striking before he could curl his calloused hands intofists. He whimpered when her foot smashed hard into his crotch, her eyesnarrowing into slits when the boys behind him jumped in to come at her too.
She felt the other boy before she saw him, twisting awayfrom his hands when he tried to grab her by the hair, to kick him in the kneeas hard as she could. He went down with a cry, grabbing onto his knee automatically.Before she could narrow her gaze of the last boy, she felt air woosh from herlungs, the other boy’s fist smashing hard into the gut.
She did not scream, instead she hissed out a sharp breath fromthe pain, before turning a fierce glare at the arsehole. The boy sneered ather, seeming displeased with her show of defiance, and then smashed his footinto her chest. She wheezed, a strange choking sound leaving her lips beforelanding on her back.
And then the boy was on top of her, trying to pin her downwith the weight of his body. She scratched and clawed at him, her mind strangelysilent of all her concerns at that precise moment. She had no time to plan—no timeto think about the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the fear thatnormally made its home in the bottom of her gut.
She didn’t know where Tom ended up in the scuffle—but shehoped that the boy was smart enough to have left when he had the chance. She knewthis was not the smartest choice from her end, she was not physically preparedto handle three grown boys. But she hadn’t planned things entirely through,hoping that her actions would be enough to get them to back off.
She clenched her teeth around the boy’s forearm then,fighting him tooth and nail when she felt one of the boy’s hands try to chokeher. “Y-you wretch!” The boy hissed, and she tried not to laugh at the way theboy’s voice cracked.
And then suddenly, the boy was no longer on her. Hiscrushing weight dissipating like smoke before she realized what had happened.
The boy was screaming, writhing on the ground as if he werebeing shocked by some invisible force. She stared at him in shock, unsure ofwhat to do when the two boys with him started screaming as well, Billy’snasally voice the most distinct amongst the cacophony of screams.
It felt like it had gone on for minutes—hours—but it could only have happened in seconds. The boys weretwisting in ways that looked beyond unnatural, and Hermione tried to make senseof it, not even bothering to rise from where she had been sitting on theground.
“Why did you help me?” She heard a soft voice whisper ashort distance behind her, so soft that she was surprised she had even heardthe words through the stream of screams in the field.
She twisted her by to look, to make sense of what the bloodyhell was happening, before catching sight of the boy Billy and his gang had shovedearlier. It seemed that he had not run as she had hoped.
She scrutinized the boy in front of her, noticingimmediately that his hand was pointed at the group of boys in front of her. Itwas unmistakable what it meant, the way his fingers sparked like electricity inhis tiny hand. But it didn’t dawn on her the reality of what was happeninguntil his fingers curled, and the screams of the boys behind her seemed to increase.
The boy was a wizard, and one that had frightening controlof his magic. Her throat felt dry at the display in front of her, entirelyunsure of what to make of this turn of events.
“Why wouldn’t I have? These boys were hurting you. I couldn’tallow it.” She said slowly, forcing her body to rise from the ground when thescreams of the boys suddenly stopped.
The silence that came afterwards was deafening.
The boy quirked his head to the side, as if he was trying tomake sense of a particularly confounding puzzle. It made her uncomfortable, butshe did not let it show. Choosing to watch the pretty, but albeitscrawny-looking boy, instead.
“You hadn’t before.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but shestill winced at the weight of his words. He didn’t accuse her of a singlething, but he may as well have. She had, in truth, turned a blind eye to hisown suffering and was just as guilty as the boys that preyed on him.
“Y-you’re right about that. I’m sorry.” The apology stumbledeasily from her lips, and from the twitch of his lip, it seemed he hadn’texpected that response at all.
“You’re not scared of me?” He seemed to compose himselfthen, smoothing away any discomfort her heartfelt words had brought in him. Itwas both upsetting and frightening to see how easily he hid himself away—as ifshe were another threat ready to strike at him when he turned his back.
No one deserved to be treated that way, she fumed. He wasjust a child, and it was perhaps his magical accidents that had made him atarget for the bullies in the first place.
If this was how children treated others they did notunderstand then they certainly deserved what they’d got. She felt no pity forthe whimpering boys still laying weakly on the ground.
“I can do what you can do.” She finally said, before movingslowly to the boy. The boy may have seemed calm, but he reminded her easily of afrightened animal. And she knew, that frightened animals were perhaps the mostdangerous of their kind. She did not dare move quickly towards him, sure thatif she did, that Tom would retaliate against her abrupt movement.
She’d rather not be hexed, not when her stomach and chestthrobbed painfully after her fight with the boys.
It a long silence before she was finally at his side, theboy’s posture unchanged the entire time. He watched her, dark eyes regardingher with an expression she did not quite understand in this context. Curiosity sheknew, she had seen it on the faces of the first years starting their first dayin Hogwarts.
But the look on young Tom Riddle’s face was something elseentirely, something that resembled Ron’s own face when presented with aparticularly delicious meal.
“Prove it.” The boy ordered, the way his small voice crackedbetraying his excitement then. She hesitated, unsure if this was a good idea ornot considering how sensitive the magical laws were on such things. But surely,she would not face any trouble in the presence of a future wizard? He wasalmost at the age where his letter would arrive. It would be pretty shoddy tobe punished for revealing a crucial aspect of the boy’s identity.
Another minute passed before she finally convinced herselfto just do it. Breaking the rules always made her a bit uncomfortable. But the intenseguilt for failing to intervene all those times prior, finally convinced her.
She concentrated hard, trying to remember the sensation offire licking at her skin. It was always difficult to reach, just out of arm’slength when she called for her magic without a wand. But she was tenacious—she knewwhat it was she wanted her magic to do. She willed it to manifest in her palm,to force rivulets of her magic to the one spot so as not to lose control.
Her magic was fiery and temperamental, a description shefelt was rather apt considering what she had done mere moments earlier out ofanger. But she reigned it in, forcing it to bend to her will because it was hers.
She pushed her magic onto palm until finally, there was atiny flame flickering in her hand. She could feel it pressed against herfingertips, but they did not burn. She felt giddy with her power, enlightenedby the fact that it had not taken her as long as it had once before to listento her mental commands.
When she turned her attention from her hand, to look intothe boy that had practically demanded she show him her magic, she froze.
Tom looked completely riveted, his mask of indifference inshambles.
It was perhaps, the first time Hermione had ever seen theboy smile in her short time in the Orphanage. She was struck dumb.
“There are others…like me.” He whispered, staring into herpalm with the familiar hungry expression on his face. It was like a shark hadscented blood—his dark eyes greedily taking it all in.
“Would you like to talk elsewhere? I understand you musthave questions.” She asked, only just recalling that the three boys were stillbehind her and should most definitely not be privy to their discussion. Last thingshe needed was for them to tell Mrs. Cole about what her and Tom discussed—
It would certainly go swimmingly. Knowing the bint, she’dhave them both thrown into some mental institution.
Tom’s gaze flickered to the boys behind her before turningit back to her face, a knowing glint in his black eyes.
“Yes.” Tom’s voice was animated then, not entirely trusting,but enough that Hermione felt she could have a positive influence on him yet. Shereleased the breath she did not know she was holding before leading him towhere she had been sitting earlier in the afternoon with her book.
She ignored the burning at her back as she moved, proud andsatisfied that at least now, Tom was not alone anymore. She would tell himeverything he wanted to know and more.
After all, he had her now.
