I could tolerate a lot of pain. That much was obvious. However dealing with the pain of having been blasted with the Cruciatus Curse was different, a sharp piercing sensation with crept into every nerve and made its presence as known as Tom Riddles icy glare when he walked into a room.

I knew I had to just grit my teeth and face the pain head on. I wasn't going to go crawling back to Tom this time, I had done that time and time again. I made my way slowly down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Each step killed me, but not as much as smiling at people who greeted me did. I was far from ok. I felt terrible. Even worse, now that I knew the pain wasn't going to end because of my stubborn mindedness. After a while, depression told hold as each step took me further to Tom Riddle. I sat down opposite him, grimacing.

"Well." Tom said instantly, making a show of placing his cutlery down on the table. "Breakfast is over. Time for class." He looked at me directly with a smirk, and I realised much to my dismay that he was right. It really was time to go to class. I had missed breakfast by taking such a long time to walk to the Great Hall.

"I'll see you next period." Tom said to me, beginning to stand up.

"What are you talking about." I honestly had no idea what he meant. My first class was with him.

"Our Potions class is a decent walk away." Tom said silkily, "And since it takes you... let's see... half a day to walk to the Great Hall in the morning, I more or less assumed you weren't going to make it."

Several Slytherins laughed.

"I'll be there." I said irritably. "You mark my damn words."

Tom looked at me. "What was that?" He said, looking confused. "Did I just hear you retaliate?" He leant forward, his pale hands on the table, staring at me dead in the eye. People from different House tables were craning their necks to get a good look at us. Trust Tom to make a scene.

"I didn't hear you." Tom growled.

"That's because I didn't say anything." I said flatly. The students at the table started to leave. Soon it was just me and Tom staring at each other.

"That's right." Tom said, his eyes shining wickedly. "You didn't say anything at all."

I got to my feet slowly as he left, watching his tall figure walking until I couldn't see him anymore. I took a breath and started the slow, painstaking trek to class, going over in my head how I could possibly reverse this damn pain. I had no idea how to fix the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. It wasn't like we just learnt this shit in class. I wandered up the halls, very much aware that at least ten minutes had passed since I decided to head over.

Was there any way to reverse it? I leant against the wall, trying to catch my breath. I coughed, doubling over with my hand to my mouth. When I removed it, there was blood.

Shit.

"Excuse me. Are you alright?" Someone asked me.

"Yeah, I'm great." I replied, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "I'm just out here dying, you know. Nothing too crazy." I didn't bother to look at the person, I was too busy trying not to freak out. I wasn't going to make it. I was dying. Was I going to die here, in the past?

"Dying?" The voice said, suddenly a lot sharper. "What happened to you?" I turned to finally see who the hell was bothering me. It was a tall guy, with sharp green eyes and brown hair. I blinked. He was appearing to shimmer at the seams, almost like a dream. I must have been sick. He barely looked real.

"I'm fine. Go away, I can take care of myself." I snapped.

"Yeah, right. And I can singlehandedly tackle a Hungarian Horntail."

"It's been done before." I said stiffly, remembering Harry.

"Don't be stupid. That would be impossible." The guy replied. "Look, let me help you."

"And how do you plan on helping me?" I was getting increasingly annoyed. I was dying, and this idiot wanted to waste what was probably going to be my last few hours of my life.

"Will you not just give me the benefit of the doubt here?" He asked me. I looked in his green eyes and saw he was sincere. Or at least, he looked sincere to me.

"Tell me what happened to you." He repeated again. His voice had an edge to it, that I had never heard before. Deep inside me, something cold reared its head. This guy was strangely familiar to me. But I didn't know why. We hadn't met before.

"I really don't think I should tell you." I said. My head was pounding. "Go away."

"Hermione." He said to me. "I asked you to tell me what was happening to you."

Chills trickled down my spine. Hang on...

"I don't think I told you my name." My voice sounded hollow, even to my own ears. There was a moment of distinct silence where I could hear nothing but my own heart beat in my head.

"Well, you are not wrong there." The mysterious guy said eventually, his green eyes shining very brightly in the dimly lit hallway. "People talk, you know. Word of mouth. It's amazing, isnt it? How mundane conversations can give us such intriguing clues about people. Especially when overheard."

"What are you... talking about." I struggled to speak.

"Well." The guy told me lightly, "I was simply walking to class. Let's see.... Last week. And I noticed one particular guy in particular appeared to fancy you. He mentioned your name in his conversation, and so I decided to listen in to what he was saying."

The cold feeling inside the pit of my stomach was increasing, a chill that felt as cold as ice. Something wasn't right here. Not that this guy seemed to notice my discomfort, of course. He seemed perfectly at ease to keep the conversation, despite the fact I was sliding down the wall to weak to stand.

"He was speaking about you. Speaking of how he wouldn't mind asking you out." There was no mistaking the change in his tone, the airiness had suddenly morphed into poorly concealed hostility. I gripped the wall, my hand coated in sweat. No, my own blood. The blood I had coughed up.

"What... did you say your name was?" I fought the pain just so I could look at him.

"I never mentioned it." The guy said carelessly. His eyes were watching me. Cold, a dark green bordering on.... black.

"Can... you get... help?" I was panicking, and it was making it hard to breathe.

He ignored me completely.

"I suppose I will see you next period." He told me. "Because it doesn't look like you're going to make this lesson."

Shaking, I slowly stood up. My head was pounding. I focused on my breathing. Get a damn grip, Hermione.

"I am still going to class." I heard myself say from a distance. "I need to get to class."

"You stubborn bitch." I looked to see the cold mouth curl in disgust. "You still won't give up, will you?"

I looked back at him, at his face only to see his entire appearance shimmering like water, breaking apart like ice beneath the light of the sun.

And then none other than Tom Riddle was standing in front of me. Tall, cold and with a look of utmost loathing plastered on his angular face. He looked seconds away from harming me, his dark eyes shining with malice. He looked more like a demon than anything else, his eyes honing into my own.

"Surprised?" He smiled wickedly at the dumbstruck look on my face.

"Y-you." I stammered. "You- did that."

"I do many things, Hermione." Tom said coldly, examining his hands with an idle expression. "I'm going to need you to be more specific."

I was so shocked, I forced myself into a standing position.

"How did you do that? It can't have been Polyjuice Potion." My throat burned with each word, but I couldn't help but ask. I was curious.

Tom titled his head, staring at me. "No." He agreed. "It wasn't Polyjuice Potion."

I knew Polyjuice Potion well. Whatever magic Tom had used, I had never seen before in my life. It was a dark glamour, a variation of Transfiguration I was unfamiliar with.

"You can't have Transfigured yourself. Gamps Law of Elemental Transfiguration-" I gasped.

Tom cut me off with a mirthless laugh.

"First of all, Gamp was a fucking idiot." He said harshly. "I have bent several of his so called laws. How? By using Magic he didn't even know about. Did you know there are sub branches of Transfiguration written in a wide variety of books by Dark Wizards?"

It was like a hand was around my neck, clenching it tight. It was horrific, how carelessly Tom could tear down the foundations of what I thought was real and true.

"How well have you been paying attention?" Tom asked me seriously. "Did I not tell you that I have mastered areas of Dark Magic others fear to? Or did you foolishly decide that you would dismiss me as a liar?"

"Why did you decide to disguise yourself as a student?" I interrupted.

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"I would've thought that was obvious."

His lip curled, his eyes like fathomless pits. "I wanted to test you. To see if you would attempt to ask me if I could help you stop the pain."

"Well, you failed." I laughed. Well, until the stabbing pain in my chest stopped me.

"I failed, did I?" Tom asked delicately. "I tested you, and you proved me right. You are a fool. You continue to kick against the goads as if it will change something. You refuse to relent, believing you are winning some sort of psycological prize."

"I am winning," I said stubbornly, "Because I would rather be in crippling agony then let you believe you had the power to get me to go crawling back to you. And you know it, too. You changed your damn identity only to see if I would ask you to help me. You obviously don't think that I would turn to you of my own volition."

"No." He said pleasantly. "You could never win. Because you will never admit to yourself that there are powers of darkness greater than yourself. I'll give you this analogy to further illustrate my point," He said, walking around me and giving me the distinct impression of a lion circling a deer.

"Picture a boat on a stormy sea. It is so badly built that it becomes more or less destroyed before the worst of the storm hits. The sails are torn off by the wind. Water pours onto the deck and begins to slowly submerge the vessel."

Tom was standing directly behind me, his voice low, almost hypnotic sounding.

"Similarly, there was once a stupid little girl who decided to go against powers she knew not." His voice took on an edge. "She fought valiantly. Well, until the only thing left of her was her battered remains. Do you know what happens to the greater ocean vessels that are destroyed at sea, Hermione?"

"Oh, do tell me." I said irritably. "I always nurtured a burning desire to know about the fate of boats lost at sea."

Tom grabbed my arm, dragging me around to face him.

"This is your life we are speaking about. This darkness can toy with you before devouring your life. Boats destroyed at sea are thrown about by the waves before they are finally taken down to the ocean floor. Your strength appears as weakness. You have nothing."

He stepped back. "You are bearing the weight of that curse because of stupidity. The gain is non existent. How does it feel to hurt yourself for no damn reason?"

"You can't convince me that I'm losing anything." I said clearly, swallowing the pain and pretending I was ok, "Because I made a conscious choice to resist you. It brings me insatiable pleasure. I enjoy it. It actually makes me happy."

Tom watched me, his eyes transitioning into dark ebony. Rage. Burning fire.

"If you insist." He said softly. "Take the road less traveled, then. I will not only match you for your plots against me, but I will outmatch you each time. Just watch."

"Riddle, is it?" Someone said, approaching the pair of us. My heart skipped a beat. It was the guy that Tom had altered his appearance to. I stepped back reflexively, Tom's hand found my shoulder from behind me.

"Hello, Corbin." Tom said, his tone clearly amused by my reaction. "Is there something you want?"

"Yes. Well, I was sent by Professor Flitwick to deliver this message. This is for you, Hermione." He reached out, a piece of parchment in his hand.

I took it, expecting the worst.

Hermione,

I requested the rest of those homework questions you neglected to do at my desk by morning. However there is no sign of this work having been completed. If you do not finish this work by the end of the day today I will add another detention to the following Saturday. I sincerely hope for your own sake you do not choose to disappoint me again. I would hate to have to notify your Head of House.

Professor Flitwick

"Well shit." I muttered.

"What is it?" Corbin asked. "Are you alright?" I looked up at him, feeling a nauseating feeling of deja vu.

"Yeah." I lied. "I'm fine."

"Give this to Professor Flitwick." Tom reached out over me with a perfect roll of parchment. I looked closer. It looked at least 4 pages thick.

"The hell is that?" I frowned.

"I took the liberty of completing your History of Magic homework." Tom informed me. Corbin took the parchment with a smile.

"I wish my friends would do my homework for me." He said.

"Tom isn't a friend." I said irritably.

"She's right." Tom said, staring at Corbin. "I'm much more than a friend."

Corbin froze.

"Why did you do my work?" I asked Tom.

I could feel both Corbin and Tom's eyes on me. I didn't know what to say. Tom being kind never was a sign of things going normally.

"You'll find out why, eventually." Tom said mysteriously.

"Actually, while I'm here." Corbin pocketed the parchment in the inner pocket of his cloak. "Hermione, I wanted to ask if you'd like to join me for a drink at the 3 Broomsticks on Saturday night. If you're not busy, of course."

Tom looked like he'd been hit in the face by a Bludger.

"Thank you!" I said happily, ignoring the way my face muscles ached.

"That sounds amazing. I would love to."

Anything to get away from a certain someone.

Tom watched the entire conversation very silently, looking furious.

"Hermione won't be able to make it." He told a crestfallen Corbin in a cold tone.

"What?" I demanded. "Why not?"

"That's ok." Said Corbin quickly, looking at the expression on Tom's face.

"Hermione, how about the Sunday?"

"Fine. Sunday could work." I grinned, and then immediately grimaced due to the pain of using my face muscles.

Tom wasn't looking at me, this time. He was staring at Corbin. It felt like the temperature around us had dropped several degrees.

"Corbin." Tom said in a clipped voice. "Leave."