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Green Eyes
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Hermione/Voldemort
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
22,485
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
3
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Hermione/Voldemort
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
22,485
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
3
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make any money from these writings.
Chapter 2
Hermione awoke the next morning to find herself in a familiar cot of the Hogwarts Hospital wing, being bustled over by various kindly and very curious nurses. Looking outside, she saw a beautiful sunny May morning.
"But Mandy, dear, you didn't SEE the poor child when she was brought in! She looked like death itself. As if she had just stepped off a battlefield!" Hermione heard one nurse whispering carelessly close to her bedstead as she lay, pretending to sleep.
"I'm not saying she's not injured, Marjorie." replied her companion. "I mean, look at her! She's been tortured, that's for sure. Not including the two broken kneecaps, a cracked rib, internal bleeding, and some kind-of lower body paralysis spell that we've not been able to lift yet. But that's serious dark magic, that is, and there must be some sort of morbid story behind it all." The other nurse clucked in agreement.
The Headmaster, Professor Dippet, was a kindly, slightly deaf old man, who made an appearance in the Hospital Wing as soon as Hermione awoke.
“My dear - what in Merlin’s name has happened to you, and how came you to Hogwarts?“ He said, eyes wide as he surveyed Hermione, battle-scarred, blood-caked and tear-streaked.
Hermione thought fast. “My name is Hermione…Hart.“ That sounds pureblooded enough to get close to Tom Riddle, she thought. Now assuming a (hopefully) Irish-sounding croak, she continued, “I grew up in Ireland, sir. I lived away up in the mountains with me dad, and he homeschooled me.“
To Professor Dippet’s surprise, Hermione now gave a small, convincing sob. “But he liked the drink, my father did. He…he liked to hit me too. Just last week he beat me black and blue for forgetting to degnome the garden again. So I up and left, and apparated into Hogsmeade, sir. I heard talk about Hogwarts being the safest place around.“
Professor Dippet was now slack jawed in horror, shaking his bald head furiously. “You poor child! My dear girl, I absolutely insist that you stay at Hogwarts while we get this matter sorted out. You will have to join the student body, of course, and finish your education here. Just leave the sordid legal details to me.”
Hermione thanked Dippet tearfully while grinning triumphantly inside - she had the elderly headmaster wrapped around her finger.
Hermione now hobbled into the Hospital Ward bathroom, and traced her blackened reflection in the mirror. She had no idea why she had said she was Irish, because underneath this dirt Hermione was tanned and bronze-haired. Hardly the look of an Irish mountain maiden, Hermione thought.
“Well, this is going to have to change. “ she said quietly, and soon the mirror began to flash as Hermione shot glamour charm after glamour charm at herself.
Her hair darkened into a mass of glossy, black waves. Her skin became pale, almost truculent. Having fun now, she traced a delicate Gaelic tattoo of trailing blossoms and a bird across her wrist, and transfigured herself a flowing white gown that hugged her tiny waist and shapely breasts. She even charmed her accent to possess a soft, Irish lilt.
Gathering the last of her strength, she added the finishing touch to her disguise. “Mutus verdite” she intoned, and her large, chocolate eyes became brilliant, emerald green. “For you, Harry,” she whispered. “I need your strength, now more than ever.”
As she collapsed back into her cot, trembling and weak, she heard the nurse on duty talking to a student. The conversation came closer, and Hermione’s curiosity immediately changed to horror as the nurse came into view, accompanied by none other than Tom Riddle.
On seeing Hermione, Tom flicked his sparkling grey eyes over her once, and in that moment Hermione felt like her soul had been raked. A glimmer of something - surprise, maybe? - and a small twisted smile slipped through his beautiful mask, before again imitating a block of obsidian rock.
The nurse, seeing Hermione, stopped and stared.
"Well, aren't you...nice and cleaned up, Miss Hart?" she gushed. "Goodness, who knew what a face you had hiding under that grime? What stunning eyes, my dear – funny, I didn’t notice before…"
Inwardly the nurse was preparing to tell her fellow nurses that the Hart girl in Bed 7 was not only mysterious but stunningly beautiful as well.
She continued. "I was just asking Mr. Riddle here to deliver something up to the Headmaster. Wait here if you please, Mr. Riddle." she then continued, saying, "You two can have a nice chat until I return." She scooted off, and seeming relieved to be out of 'Mr. Riddle's' presence.
Riddle was now giving Hermione another once-over, this time slower. She felt naked under his cold gaze. Hermione itched to Avada Kedavra his bollocks to hell, but knew that killing him with so many witnesses around would not be a good idea.
The silence stretched. Finally he inclined his head slightly, never taking his stormy eyes from her. "Miss Hart."
Hermione’s heart was in her mouth, preventing her from replying. Instead she looked up at him, her green eyes huge.
Riddle raised his eyebrow at her silence, and smirked, amused. "Are you...naturally obstinate, or is it just a reaction to me?" he drawled softly, and slowly.
Hermione bit her lip, but soon lost the battle with her temper. "Maybe I'd be more communicative if you hadn't left me for dead on the Hogwarts greens!" she hissed. "AND gagged me in the process!"
Riddle looked as if her outburst had been about as interesting as grass growing. "Ah...I see we like to hold grudges as well." He leant forward slowly, forcing Hermione to lean back against the bed. "What...unsavoury behaviour. Tsk, tsk."
Hermione was trembling again, as his steely eyes bored down into her. "So why leave me then?", she spat. "Explain yourself, if you please!"
Something flashed in his eyes, and he grew rigid. "I don't ever need to explain myself." He hissed softly, before departing the ward with a very Snape-like whirl of his cloak. Pausing at the door, he added in a silky drawl, "I don't ever apologize either. For anything. Sorry if that disappoints, Hart."
Hermione was left to explain Riddle’s disappearance to the confused nurse. Fuming, she spent the rest of the day vividly imagining ways to put an end to the serpent's unnatural life. The trick was to wait for the opportune moment.
"But Mandy, dear, you didn't SEE the poor child when she was brought in! She looked like death itself. As if she had just stepped off a battlefield!" Hermione heard one nurse whispering carelessly close to her bedstead as she lay, pretending to sleep.
"I'm not saying she's not injured, Marjorie." replied her companion. "I mean, look at her! She's been tortured, that's for sure. Not including the two broken kneecaps, a cracked rib, internal bleeding, and some kind-of lower body paralysis spell that we've not been able to lift yet. But that's serious dark magic, that is, and there must be some sort of morbid story behind it all." The other nurse clucked in agreement.
The Headmaster, Professor Dippet, was a kindly, slightly deaf old man, who made an appearance in the Hospital Wing as soon as Hermione awoke.
“My dear - what in Merlin’s name has happened to you, and how came you to Hogwarts?“ He said, eyes wide as he surveyed Hermione, battle-scarred, blood-caked and tear-streaked.
Hermione thought fast. “My name is Hermione…Hart.“ That sounds pureblooded enough to get close to Tom Riddle, she thought. Now assuming a (hopefully) Irish-sounding croak, she continued, “I grew up in Ireland, sir. I lived away up in the mountains with me dad, and he homeschooled me.“
To Professor Dippet’s surprise, Hermione now gave a small, convincing sob. “But he liked the drink, my father did. He…he liked to hit me too. Just last week he beat me black and blue for forgetting to degnome the garden again. So I up and left, and apparated into Hogsmeade, sir. I heard talk about Hogwarts being the safest place around.“
Professor Dippet was now slack jawed in horror, shaking his bald head furiously. “You poor child! My dear girl, I absolutely insist that you stay at Hogwarts while we get this matter sorted out. You will have to join the student body, of course, and finish your education here. Just leave the sordid legal details to me.”
Hermione thanked Dippet tearfully while grinning triumphantly inside - she had the elderly headmaster wrapped around her finger.
Hermione now hobbled into the Hospital Ward bathroom, and traced her blackened reflection in the mirror. She had no idea why she had said she was Irish, because underneath this dirt Hermione was tanned and bronze-haired. Hardly the look of an Irish mountain maiden, Hermione thought.
“Well, this is going to have to change. “ she said quietly, and soon the mirror began to flash as Hermione shot glamour charm after glamour charm at herself.
Her hair darkened into a mass of glossy, black waves. Her skin became pale, almost truculent. Having fun now, she traced a delicate Gaelic tattoo of trailing blossoms and a bird across her wrist, and transfigured herself a flowing white gown that hugged her tiny waist and shapely breasts. She even charmed her accent to possess a soft, Irish lilt.
Gathering the last of her strength, she added the finishing touch to her disguise. “Mutus verdite” she intoned, and her large, chocolate eyes became brilliant, emerald green. “For you, Harry,” she whispered. “I need your strength, now more than ever.”
As she collapsed back into her cot, trembling and weak, she heard the nurse on duty talking to a student. The conversation came closer, and Hermione’s curiosity immediately changed to horror as the nurse came into view, accompanied by none other than Tom Riddle.
On seeing Hermione, Tom flicked his sparkling grey eyes over her once, and in that moment Hermione felt like her soul had been raked. A glimmer of something - surprise, maybe? - and a small twisted smile slipped through his beautiful mask, before again imitating a block of obsidian rock.
The nurse, seeing Hermione, stopped and stared.
"Well, aren't you...nice and cleaned up, Miss Hart?" she gushed. "Goodness, who knew what a face you had hiding under that grime? What stunning eyes, my dear – funny, I didn’t notice before…"
Inwardly the nurse was preparing to tell her fellow nurses that the Hart girl in Bed 7 was not only mysterious but stunningly beautiful as well.
She continued. "I was just asking Mr. Riddle here to deliver something up to the Headmaster. Wait here if you please, Mr. Riddle." she then continued, saying, "You two can have a nice chat until I return." She scooted off, and seeming relieved to be out of 'Mr. Riddle's' presence.
Riddle was now giving Hermione another once-over, this time slower. She felt naked under his cold gaze. Hermione itched to Avada Kedavra his bollocks to hell, but knew that killing him with so many witnesses around would not be a good idea.
The silence stretched. Finally he inclined his head slightly, never taking his stormy eyes from her. "Miss Hart."
Hermione’s heart was in her mouth, preventing her from replying. Instead she looked up at him, her green eyes huge.
Riddle raised his eyebrow at her silence, and smirked, amused. "Are you...naturally obstinate, or is it just a reaction to me?" he drawled softly, and slowly.
Hermione bit her lip, but soon lost the battle with her temper. "Maybe I'd be more communicative if you hadn't left me for dead on the Hogwarts greens!" she hissed. "AND gagged me in the process!"
Riddle looked as if her outburst had been about as interesting as grass growing. "Ah...I see we like to hold grudges as well." He leant forward slowly, forcing Hermione to lean back against the bed. "What...unsavoury behaviour. Tsk, tsk."
Hermione was trembling again, as his steely eyes bored down into her. "So why leave me then?", she spat. "Explain yourself, if you please!"
Something flashed in his eyes, and he grew rigid. "I don't ever need to explain myself." He hissed softly, before departing the ward with a very Snape-like whirl of his cloak. Pausing at the door, he added in a silky drawl, "I don't ever apologize either. For anything. Sorry if that disappoints, Hart."
Hermione was left to explain Riddle’s disappearance to the confused nurse. Fuming, she spent the rest of the day vividly imagining ways to put an end to the serpent's unnatural life. The trick was to wait for the opportune moment.