•

•

Hermione

I opened my eyes. Directly in my line of vision above me a was taped a large poster of three brunette witches posing explicitly together. Unfortunately for me it was some filth torn out of a Wizards porno mag so all the witches were moving.

I closed my eyes. I was numb. I had the weirdest dream and was feeling pretty unsettled. That enchanted pornographic poster didn't make me feel any better, neither did turning over in bed to find myself face to face with Tom Riddle.

I was sleeping in his bed. I didn't have the strength to bolt out of his bed and run away. I was so tired. You know the feeling when you feel your soul is tired? I felt like that. I couldn't be bothered hunting around for my room. I just wanted to sleep somewhere. Anywhere. Whether it was in Tom Riddle's bed or not I didn't care.

I didn't feel anything. I felt safe, strangely. If I thought previously I was in the lions den, this felt more like it than ever. But my lion had devoured me. There was nothing left of me, I was the prey and I had lost everything. This was the lion sleeping with the remains of a lamb.

I propped myself up on my elbow.

The sleeping version of Tom Riddle looked so carefree and innocent, one strand of black hair hanging down over his face. I reached out a hand and ever so lightly tucked it away. For a moment I thought he was going to wake up but nothing happened. I had never seen this side of Tom, this vulnerability. And now just looking at him sleeping without a trace of hate on this fine features my heart was starting to beat out of rhythm. He looked.... innocent. He was shirtless, curled into the same bed as me. We were facing each other. I wondered what type of dream he was having. With a mind like his no doubt it something twisted. Was there any light in his mind at all?

"I know I'm hot but stop staring." Tom blinked, his eyes finding mine. I realised he was awake this whole time.

"You look so innocent when you're asleep". I found myself saying. "Fragile, somehow."

Tom looked amused. "Do I? Well that's the only time you'll ever see any sign of weakness from me."

"Sleeping isn't a sign of weakness." I protested.

Tom turned on his back looking thoughtfully up at the horrendous poster above him, but his eyes darkened in enjoyment.

"If someone were to enter my room at night while I was asleep," he said huskily, "and decided to hit me with a killing curse, I might not get that upper hand advantage that I would've wanted to defend myself. And I think that could be considered a weakness."

"But humans need to sleep." I continued. I wasn't in the mood to argue with him but his stance was illogical.

"That's besides the point." Tom argued. "Of course humans need sleep. You were saying that sleeping was vulnerability."

"And it is."

"Right. And I sleep to regenerate my energy and rest my mind. And in actual fact I barely sleep. I like to be on my game at all times."

"Ok." We we're silent for a moment, and then Tom reached over a hand towards me and I flinched.

"Still scared of me?" He said. "That's very good. I wonder..."

He reached out and pushed his fingers into my mouth. Two fingers. I was too numb to stop him. His fingers were cold in my mouth. The move was explicit, suggestive. He could do whatever he wanted to me. And as fast as it'd happened it was over.

"I always thought that it was a loving gesture to brush hair from someone's face while they slept. Why did you do it?" He drew back as if nothing happened.

He was alert now, those black eyes sharp and his features as cold and unforgiving as I had known them to be as he focused on me.

"I.... don't know." I closed my eyes. "You looked..."

"I get it, I look sexy when I'm sleeping. God. Every girl I've ever had in this bed always tells me the same thing."

"That's not what I was going to say." I turned to look at him. He was expressionless but that arrogant tilt to his lips was there. God he was an attractive guy, and it wasn't helping anything.

"Well, are you ever going to tell me? Or are you just going to gawp at my fine facial features?"

I blinked. "When I was looking at you I was wondering what you were dreaming of."

Tom frowned.

"You're still a lot more innocent than I'd have expected. Did you really think I would chance to fall asleep in the bed of someone whose mind I've broken?"

His bed was warm, inviting me to sleep again. I fought against the lure. I had to stay awake.

"I wouldn't have gotten away with anything even if I tried." I realised out loud. "You would've stopped me, whether you had been asleep or not. You're always faster than me."

"Right. What did you think I would be dreaming about?" Tom cut across me. "I want to know."

I looked down. I could feel Tom's intense gaze and it was making my face burn red with embarrassment.

"I was wondering whether you still had light left in your soul." I told him truthfully. Light shone though the window beside his bed, through the depths of the Great Lake. Now that it was morning I had a chance to admire Tom's room. Books. Everywhere I could see. Books, some open and some closed were on every desk and bookshelf I could see. There was a broomstick leaning carefully against his wall.

"I was abandoned by my parents to spend my youth in a filthy muggle orphanage." Tom revealed. He still looked as emotionless as before but there was a certain hardness to his look that wasn't there before.

"I used to want to die when I was there. I was tired of the routine of it all. And it was so dull. There was never anything to do. Everything was.... cut away from the real world, both muggle and magical. It was as though I was starving my entire identity, somehow. The matrons were fucking bitches. There were activities to do of course. Nothing of which I liked. And don't get me started on the children... They were all as basic as each other. I spent a lot of time in solitude."

"Do you ever feel alone?"

Tom looked surprised. "Of course not." Whether he meant it or not I would never know because of how convincing he looked saying it. If he'd just lied to my face I would never know.

Maybe it was best if I didn't.

"Do you ever feel lonely?" Tom asked me. I'd come to realise with him if his voice became lighter, he was trying lessen the weight of his words. A careful movement of his, but I knew it for what it really was.

"I used to feel lonely." I opened up to him and I couldn't believe I was actually doing it. "When I was a young girl I was different from the other kids. I was a step ahead of them. Academically. Sometimes I wished I could just take that step back so I wouldn't have felt so isolated. I could've been exactly like them. I often wonder what that'd have been like."

I trailed off, my eyes looking up and finding that hideous pornographic poster above me again. Looking at it was somehow easier than looking into the intensive eyes of the guy in the bed beside me.

"I grew to become used to the solitude of it all. Greatness was a concept that one had to discover for oneself, not in a group. I've never had a bad grade. I've excelled in all my classes. I enjoyed learning. I love magic. I love being a witch. I tried and failed to resist you. I stood against the majority of the school who adored you for a long time. So, back to your question. Do I ever feel lonely?" I breathed out, feeling as weightless as the air around me.

"All the time."