The Burning Pen

Through the Looking Glass
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 18

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 18 ~ Confrontation

The next morning, a Disillusioned Potions master stood just outside the Common Room, spying. He knew Hermione woke up early to attend breakfast. Apparently, a few Slytherins knew this as well. A frowning Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode sat on the sofa, looking toward the dorm corridor intently.

Sure enough, a fresh-looking, yawning Hermione Granger entered, stretching and knapsack in tow. Pansy wasted no time standing up and confronting her.

”Thought you were smart last night, eh Granger?” the witch said to her, blocking her way.

Hermione stopped and gave her a half smile, her brown eyes flicking over Millicent, who stood behind the witch, eyeing Hermione. She had overpowered the other Hermione back in her fifth year and was sure she could tangle this one up in knots as well, as long as she could reach her before she pulled her wand.

Hermione stepped back a bit to give herself more room.

”It’s not that I thought I was smart, but you lot rather stupid, getting Crucio’d by ricochet,” she chuckled.

This only served to make Pansy angrier.

”I suppose you plan to spread it all over the school and get Blaise arrested,” the witch said.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

”That depends. Generally I’m of the ‘what goes on in Slytherin stays in Slytherin’ persuasion, unless it’s to my advantage to tell. In this case, I think I’ll keep it to myself if all of you stay . . . civil. Otherwise, off to Dumbledore I flounce.”

”That’s blackmail,” Millicent said scowling.

”Right in one,” Hermione replied, thinking Millicent needed to take a pair of heavy duty tweezers to that uni-brow.

”Well, I don’t think you have to worry about anyone attacking you now, but I want to get something straight with you on a personal level,” Pansy said to her.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at her. Personal level? What the hell was Pansy talking about?

”Draco Malfoy is off-limits, understand? Just because he moved heaven and earth to get you in this house . . . “ Pansy began, her face contorted

Hermione processed this . . .

”Draco did what?” she asked Pansy as if to clarify this.

”Oh, don’t act like you don’t know. Draco is the one who got us to agree to accept you here, saying you were a true Slytherin. You’re nasty all right, but that doesn’t make a Slytherin. But . . . besides that . . . Draco is my wizard. I don’t want to see you leading him on. If you do, there’s going to be trouble,” Pansy warned her.

Hm. Hermione hadn’t known she had a champion in Draco Malfoy. And she didn’t like Pansy telling her who she could and couldn’t indulge herself with.

”What if he leads me on?” Hermione asked her, smirking slightly.

”Ignore him,” Pansy snapped, well aware Draco could make advances on the witch.

At that moment, Draco walked into the Common Room, blinking at both Pansy and Hermione. He focused on Hermione and gave her a crooked smile, ignoring Pansy as he greeted her.

”Hi Hermione,” he said to the witch.

”Hello, Draco,” Hermione purred in a way that made Pansy narrow her eyes at her. “Are you aware you are ‘off-limits’ to me? According to your little girlfriend here. I guess I can’t ask you for ‘anything.’”

Draco frowned.

”Off-limits? What is she talking about Pansy? You’re not my girlfriend,” he said to her angrily.

Pansy colored.

”I’m close enough to one, Draco. We . . . we have a history and we’re always around each other. You take me to all the dances . . .”

”I never asked you out,” Draco said to her, then said to Hermione, “I never asked her out. If anything . . . we’re . . . we’re friends with privileges. I can see who I want to see.”

Hermione looked at the red-faced Pansy and laughed out loud.

”Seems those off-limits just turned on, Pansy,” Hermione said, then her brown eyes narrowed spitefully.

”You know, I really didn’t have any interest in Draco before, but I hate to be told what I can and cannot do, so . . .”

Pansy watched impotently as Hermione sexily walked up to Draco, clasped one hand to the back of his head, and French kissed him so furiously, she almost swallowed down his tonsils. Several Slytherins entered the Common Room, shocked to she the witch tonguing the Pureblood down, Draco wrapping his arms around her waist and returning her kiss until Hermione broke it, her brown eyes meeting Draco’s heat-filled gray ones as he licked his lips, completely turned on.

Pansy was furious, and Millicent just stared at Hermione with glassy eyes.

Hermione looked at Pansy, her hand moving to her robes pocket slowly as she clasped the end of her wand.

”You’ve just succeeded on putting him on my to-do list,” she finished. “No one puts a leash on me, unless I want one. So, what’s next? Want to duel me for him? You could, but I don’t plan to keep him anyway . . . so, it’s up to you.”

”You . . . you slut!” Pansy hissed at her.

Hermione shrugged.

”Tomato, Tomahto, Pansy. I’m sure you shagging him makes you so much better than me,” the witch replied as Draco stared at her hungrily, unable to process anything but that tonsil-swiping kiss. Dear gods, Granger was the hottest thing on the face of the planet.

Thanks, Pansy.

Snape stood in the doorway, furious at the witch. She’d set her sights on the handsome, spoiled Draco Malfoy. Things were easy enough for the young wizard already. Now she was going to give him a shag? For nothing?

This wasn’t remotely fair. She had him jumping through all kinds of hoops, while Draco was going to get the treatment just to piss off his little girlfriend.

The Potions master had heard enough. He walked up the corridor, not caring whether the witches dueled or not. All he was concerned about was getting his hands and other parts of his body on Hermione Granger tonight.

He’d show her he wasn’t a man to play with. Draco Malfoy was little more than a boy . . . but him? He was more than man enough for the loose little witch.

He planned to show her that too. Malfoy couldn’t hold a torch to him.

Pansy didn’t duel Hermione, but fell to trying to insult her for being a loose witch, willing to shag anyone and not being able to keep her legs closed. Hermione simply laughed at her and told her to save the soapbox for the Gryffindors and headed on to breakfast.

Pansy was furious at Millicent, who seemed to freeze up when Hermione kissed Draco. The big witch simply stared at Hermione with a glazed look in her eyes. Hermione gave her a little knowing glance as well.

It wasn’t hard to tell which way Miss Bulstrode swung.

Pansy then had a big one-sided row with Draco, telling him he simply couldn’t possibly want that “Mudblood” after the way she’d treated Blaise and how she looked down on all of them. It was one-sided because Draco wouldn’t even argue with her, he was so smitten.

”There’s no telling what wizarding STD’s she’s carrying,” Pansy harped at him as they headed for breakfast. “And the way she kissed you . . . I’m surprised you didn’t throw up.”

Draco didn’t say a word as he nearly floated into the Great Hall, his gray eyes settling on Hermione as she calmly ate her breakfast, not paying either him or Pansy any attention at all, although she was aware of his gaze and Pansy’s frowns. Well, at least Pansy wasn’t the simpering doormat she was in the alternate universe, but she was still a bloody idiot. If she were smart, she’d play the field. Sure, Draco was cute, but there were plenty of other wizards to enjoy. He was just one out of many, after all.

Some witches had their priorities all screwed up. Particularly in this world.

Snape watched Hermione through hooded eyes from the dais, imagining how he would greet her tonight.

He planned on giving her quite a welcome once the doors were closed.

The little tease.

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Hermione was informed by Minerva that Tom Riddle wanted to see her directly after breakfast that morning, and she was to skip class to go see him. The Slytherins all eyed her, wondering what the Headmaster wanted with the Gryffindor.

Hermione hoped he had something to tell her about getting back to her own world. She was a bit put off when he grilled her more about Voldemort, asking about his Death Eaters and the acts he had performed.

Hermione told him just how horrible the despot was, as Tom looked thoughtful. Then he asked about the society itself, how it functioned. It seemed like the kind of world where others could be easily manipulated without much force. Not that he didn’t enjoy some of the darker aspects of his world, but they were tiresome, especially for someone in power like he was. And Lord Bedaub Mules was a big pain in the arse. Powerful, too.

They’d tangled more than once, and he kept Tom on his toes trying to protect Harry. Then he asked about Albus Dumbledore and the Order. That version of the wizard was far more palatable than this world’s version.

”Tell me, Miss Granger, do you think your Headmaster would be willing to have a dialogue with me?” Tom asked the witch.

Hermione looked a bit perplexed, then slowly nodded.

”He probably would, since you like Muggle-Borns,” she replied.

”Good. I have a message I would like delivered to him, one that is not for anyone else’s eyes. It will be strongly and dangerously warded, in case someone gets . . . curious. However, I will require you to perform a service for me and need you to give me a wizard’s oath that you will carry it out, otherwise, Miss Granger . . . you will remain in this universe permanently. I will destroy the Mirror of Noisreva.”

”What? No, don’t do that Headmaster,” Hermione gasped at him.

”I require you to return to me with an answer from your Headmaster. Only for a moment. Our Miss Granger will return to your world for that short duration. After that, you’ll be free of me, in a manner of speaking,” the wizard purred at her.

He only wanted her to bring back a message from Dumbledore. She’d do that willingly. There was no reason to threaten her. But this was a world full of extortion. Tom was simply doing what he normally did. Tightening the screws.

Hermione agreed to be his courier, giving him an oath, and Tom gave her a smile in return.

”Very good,” he purred. “You will be moving into Gryffindor house. I’ve deduced that you are in the wrong house to recreate the conditions necessary for a return to your own universe. You need to be in your proper house, that of Gryffindor. Hopefully, our Miss Granger is in Slytherin as she’s supposed to be. The mirror will be moved into your new quarters after curfew tonight. My message to your Headmaster will be there as well. Hopefully he will respond within the time frame I requested.”

”Yes, sir,” Hermione said to him.

Tom nodded, then drew his wand and flicked it at her. Hermione felt a coldness sink into her very bones.

”What did you do to me?” she asked the wizard frowning at her slightly.

”Oh, just added a bit of insurance. You must be back here at the designated time, or you will be parted from your mortal coil,” he told her, leaning back in his chair.

”My mortal coil?” Hermione repeated, horror washing over her.

”You will die, Miss Granger. If anyone attempts to remove my curse, you will also die. So don’t try any tricks. Just deliver the reply on time,” Tom said darkly.

He wasn’t taking any chances.

Hermione stared at him. He might not look like Voldemort, but he was just as evil.

”You may go, Miss Granger. At the end of the day, report to Gryffindor tower. All your things will have been placed there,” Tom told her.

He watched as the stricken witch left, shaking his head, thinking that he was getting her out of his world just in the nick of time. She had no survival skills at all. The other Hermione always wore a powerful repelling spell, even when entering his presence. He couldn’t order her to remove it either. A right to protect oneself was written into the rules. This meant protective charms as well. Not even a staff member could force a student to remove a spell from his or her person if it were defensive.

Good thing this Miss Granger wasn’t as sharp as his own.

Tom took out a piece of parchment with the school’s letterhead on it and began to pen his message and plan to Albus Dumbledore. Hopefully the wizard would see the beauty of it and was also ready for a change.

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A/N: Thanks for reading. ***

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