Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Blasted plot bunnies. Just a note - although this centers around Hermione and Tom, they're not going to become a couple. At least in this story, anyway. Much thanks to Kris for betaing this; and once again on short notice. Thank her for having this chapter come out so quickly ;P
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Chapter Two: Hypnotized
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He fixed her with a glare. "And I thought you would be a good girl," he said smugly. "I'm so disappointed, Miss Hermione."
Somehow that name irked her. As if he was indicating she was a prissy goody two shoes. Miss Hermione, hah! She had to laugh. But she didn't. Who knew what would happen if she did.
He looked at her fixedly. "You're wondering who I am, aren't you?"
She looked at him, and found herself lost in his eyes. She couldn't help it; the cold grey eyes were mesmerizing in their own way; they drew her in instantly. It was if evil drew her to it like a magnet; much like his eyes did. They glinted of evil, of broken shattered promises and dark secrets, too dark, to ever be told or be known.
She wondered vaguely if she wanted to know them - or whether it was better not to know them at all. They could change everything in an instant, and sometimes destroy everything in seconds. She had the feeling he contained, possessed that sort of power . . . and within an amazingly short period of time, that power could destroy and change everything.
"Yes I am," she said at last. "But I find myself having the feeling that I already know who you are, what you are . . . I can't shake off this feeling. Even though I honestly have no idea what your name is."
He had to smile sardonically at that. She thought his name defined who he was. But it was more than only a name that told a person who he was and what he was. His name - that filthy Muggle name he had unfortunately inherited from his father - definitely didn't define who he was. It didn't define him at all; it only defined who he had been; the person from his past. Now, he wasn't that person at all; he was someone else, a person with a whole different identity.
"You have no idea who I am, then?" He asked her now.
"No, no idea," she answered, ignoring the nagging feeling of I know him from somewhere, I just know it that she had.
He smiled slightly at this; but it was no ordinary smile. This smile sent her on edge, with its maliciousness and slight shiver it sent down her back. She got the chills as it seemed to conjure up into her mind. It was a smile that spoke of untold yet known secrets, of silent deception, of high hopes and dashed dreams.
"If you don't know me, then you truly don't know me." His eyes were dark. Dark with something she couldn't describe, dark with something she didn't know but could feel. It made her recoil, but somehow she couldn't help wanting to know what it was, wanting to know how it would feel, pulsing everywhere in her.
"Who are you then?" she managed to ask, flinching slightly at how moronic that sounded. Of all the ridiculous questions she could ask, it had to be "who are you?" Something in the air must have been getting to my brain, she thought, otherwise I would be able to think clearly. Hang on a minute . . . her think clearly in the darkness surrounding her? It wasn't impossible, and this wasn't Azkaban. Great, now my ability to think has gone haywire, she sighed inwardly.
He chuckled. "There's no clear definition for who I am. I could be anyone, I could be no one. I have a name, but it doesn't tell you at all who I am. You may know me already. I believe one of your dear friends has had the pleasure of meeting me." He smirked.
She sucked in her breath. He wasn't - he couldn't be - her mind stopped functioning. Everything stood still and clear to her; the beady, magnetic eyes, the cold expression, the sharp glint of evil and madness that lurked in his eyes. Her captor was Tom Riddle; also known as Lord Voldemort. She laughed weakly at her own stupidity. How could she not have seen it? How could she have not known, realized it sooner?
"I see you now know who I am," Tom's eyes glittered with an inner malice. She shivered at the horrible feeling his eyes, so full of hate, gave her.
"Yes," she answered, defiance creeping into her tone. "Although I don't see why you captured me when you could have captured 'my dear friend,' as you so tactfully put it."
He laughed out loud. "My dear, you've got quite a lot to learn still, haven't you?" Something in his tone made her cringe, as if she couldn't bear to hear it.
"The reason why I 'captured' you, as you put it," his eyes shone, making her hair stand on end, "was because so that your dear friend would be lured here and could rescue you . . . only thanks to me, he won't be able to accomplish that." He grinned.
"The perfect trap, don't you see? If executed correctly, which it will be, I, Lord Voldemort, not Tom Riddle, will have your unknowing friend right in my hands." His eyes shone brighter than before.
"After all, you're his closest and dearest friend," he sneered, making her recoil.
"But why are you going by the name you had before? Why are you telling me all this?" The questions escaped her mouth before she could stop them. She was on the verge of breaking down, but there was no way in hell that she was going to let him know that and have an advantage over her.
"One question at a time, Miss," he smiled serenely, causing a blinding fear to stir in her. "First of all, why am I going by Tom Riddle, a name I hate so much? It's a cover, a hidden and false identity for me. No one except your friend and Dumbledore," here his eyes narrowed, "will know who I am. And now they will fall into my trap, being the utter fools they are."
His eyes centered on her. "Now as for why I'm telling you this? You'll be the only sole witness to hear and know my plan, and the best part is," the grey orbs were brighter than ever before now, if that was even possible, "you won't tell anyone about it. It'll be known in your mind and heart, but you can never say it aloud." He had a satisfied smirk that she wanted so badly to wipe off his face. "In fact, you won't even know that I told you it."
She was puzzled. What did he mean - ?
Those grey eyes focused on her again and in an instant her world became blank.