New Colors of Life

Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! I really enjoy getting them! LOL
This chapter is not beta-ed yet, mistakes belong to me.
This chapter is a part of the following one, which I'll try to post in a couple of days.
Next one will be crucial and it's my favorite one at the moment, though I still have to finish it.It's rather difficult.

If you have any questions/ suggestions- I'll behappy to answer.

Warning- violence

A challenge indeed.

Chapter 10.
Before the storm.

After what seemed like an endless day, Hermione finally got to her room. She was tired, angry, annoyed and sleepy. It was definitely a weird combination. Sitting down on her bed and taking her clothes off, Hermione lay down to have some rest. Today’s events were taking its toll on her body and mind. After that dreadful Potions class where she found herself in the center of everybody’s attention, Hermione had to go through Care of Magical Creatures with Hufflepuff as well.

It would have been all right, had it not been for Riddle. He was staring at her all the time. And really, Hermione could not tell what freaked her out more- the fact that Riddle’s stare promised some painful “chit-chat”, or that he was looking at her as though she was his new toy to play with.

Luckily, with almost no homework for tomorrow, Hermione was done with a couple of small assignments in an hour.
It looked like the program in the 40s was a little bit easier, especially the History class.
‘Figures,’ mentally snickering she thought, ‘ Voldemort did not get to “add” to the history. Yet, anyway’.
“Duh, no more thinking about that monster, Hermione. It’s enough!” ordered herself already annoyed Escada.

It was well after ten o’clock in the evening now, past-curfew time and Hermione was getting ready to go to bed. Before that she decided to relax a bit in her new bathtub, laying in hot water filled with colorful bubbles.
“Colorful,” mused Hermione out loud, “ I just don’t like that word anymore”.

How could Slughorn be that stupid as to give them this dreadful potion to brew? It was not that Hermione did not enjoy challenges, and that particular potion was extremely difficult to brew, not to mention it would take at least three months.

It was just that having Him as a partner in Potions, hell, everywhere , was a nightmare to any sane person. Plus, didn’t Slughorn understand that by giving this potion to hormonal teenagers would lead to a catastrophe? One stupid enough would just follow the results of the said potion and end up in a relationship with somebody one didn’t even like. Even though Hermione did not add it in the class when answering Slughorn’s question, she was well aware, that the first two options of the potion’s result were very frequent.

The last one, the so-called True Result , meaning the Colors of Life, was extremely, extremely rare. She was quite sure that there hadn’t been a “colorful” match for centuries.
“No wonder,” she bitterly snorted.

Wiggling her toes in colorful foam, Hermione tried not to think who she might end up with.
“The parchment will probably burn away.” Started thinking Hermione out loud. It really helped her when she talked to herself out loud, not like she had anybody to talk to anyway.

“Really, who could be my soulmate? I am not made for that.” Everybody around were just horny teenagers with no goals in life and no brains to achieve anything. Hermione tried to picture a perfect companion for herself while sticking her fingers through the formed funny bubbles.

One by one, Hermione destroyed colorful bubbles while naming out loud her so-called perfect imaginary soul-mate’s characteristics.

“Intelligent”. The blue bubble went down first.
“Powerful”. The yellow one followed.
“Strong- willed”. The red one said good-bye.
“Determined”. The orange bubble disappeared with a soft cry.
“Passionate”. The violet one joined its friends.
“Cunning”. The pink one exploded.
“Intriguing”. The pearly bubble sadly blinked before dissolving in the air.
“Charming”. The brown one went away unnoticed.
“Charismatic”. The golden bubble drowned quickly.
“Handsome would be perfect”. Did the silver bubble smirk at her?
“One full of mysteries,” continued Hermione smacking the biggest bubble. Green.
“ He has to be a difficult ridd- ,” with a soft cry Hermione clamped her mouth shut with her wet hand before she could finish her last thought. Franticly looking around her, Hermione felt her blood turn to ice and the hot water was not helping at all. It was the previously unknown feeling of something to come, something drastic to happen.
And even though Hermione did not believe in Divination, she felt chills go down her spine.

“No, it is not possible”.


Meanwhile.

“Shut up, I said,” ordered a very angry Tom Riddle while ramming full force into a sobbing Hufflepuff girl.

Tom was on his way to “talk” with Escada when he saw some Hufflepuff girl approach him in the corridor. By the gleam in her eyes he could tell straight away what she wanted from him even without checking her pitiful mind. ‘If she had any at all’.

Well, it was not a secret really, that Riddle fucked everything that moved and most of the Hogwarts girls had already been in his bed. Once, twice… Not like he cared.

His only “constant” girlfriend, at that word Tom winced, had been Walburga.
Really, she was almost perfect for him- adoring, passionate, pureblooded, completely smitten with him and, well, she had a magnificent body as well. Too bad she was a moron in Tom’s eyes.

To him, it seemed that there was never going to appear a woman he might be willing to marry. Women around him were either pretty but dumb, or smart but blessed with a beauty of a troll. If things were not to change, it seemed that he would either marry Walburga, or he would not marry at all, which was fine with him.

Was it really that hard for Mother Nature, at that Tom snickered, to produce a smart, powerful, loyal and pretty witch for him? He definitely had not seen such a witch yet, the one that would make his blood boil. Well, he had met one that would drive him nuts, but as soon as Tom thought of Her , his eyes turned red. Oh, yes. That one surely made his blood boil and soon Tom would make her blood boil. Yes, he definitely loved that particular curse.

However, before meeting with his new pain-in-the-ass he had to calm down a bit. There were still a lot of things that he had to find out, extract them, from someone’s head. And to do that, Tom had to remain calm. There was only one way, expect from some torturing session.

And so now he was mercilessly ramming into this Hufflepuff’s ass, tearing her apart.
“Tom, pleaseee….stop…” cried the girl again. What was her name? Something like Flower, Flewer, Fluwer? Who the hell named their children like that?

‘Muggles,’ answered Tom his own question while pointing his wand at the struggling body beneath him. That stupid girl wanted him, so she got him. Or, better to say, he got her - painfully, humiliatingly and from behind. Tom really liked her expression when “the Flower girl” got the message- he was not going to kiss her, he was not going to pleasure her- he was going to use her.

The only person Tom kissed or, if he was in a good mood, pleasured, was Walburga. He was definitely not in love with her, but, Tom could admit it to himself, that he liked her in a way. She was very pretty and she knew how to pleasure him. No one could say that Tom was incapable of pleasuring a woman, if he wanted, of course. Which was not very often.

Walking into a shower after kicking the “Flower-girl” out of his room, Tom recalled his last “nice” encounter with Walburga. Oh, yes, he could still feel her astonishment and heavenly pleasure when he decided to play nice with her one night. After passionately kissing her full lips, he took his time sucking, biting and licking her body. Yes, Tom thought, she could be his future spouse. Plus, the potion would likely show that she was bounded to him by the red color of the potion. She was submissive, one hundred percent loyal, even fanatical, and she was very good in bed. Of course, there was no challenge…

Stopping himself from thinking about his “challenge”, Tom got out of the shower and went to his living room. There, on his huge bed, lay his only friend, if one could call a snake a friend.

“Nagini, it’s time to visit somebody,” Tom hissed at his faithful familiar while picking her up and moving towards the door.

The door between the rooms. His and Her .

A/N Sooo, what you think?