At first I thought I was dreaming. I'd been having so many bad dreams lately that when I woke up on the cold concrete floor of Tom's secret room I initially thought I was having a nightmare.

Well, until I smelt the blood. It was dry and caked on my knees and hands. I rolled on my side. Every part of my body was aching from sleeping curled up on the cold hard ground.

I crawled out from under the bed. There was no windows in this room, so I couldn't tell what time it was. Was it a minute or an entire day that I'd passed out? There was no way of knowing. My only way of telling the time was the Time Turner which Tom had stole from me.

Thinking of Tom sent undulating waves of anxiety and fear rippling through me. He was furious. He had admitted that he had made a mistake with me, that I wasn't broken into submission completely yet and that he was going to break my mind. How would he do that? By leaving me trapped in this stupid room? I already felt like my mind was broken. Whatever he was set to break was something of a mystery to me.

I stood up shakily, coming to sit on the exact same mattress that Tom and his gang of unknown Slytherin associates had assaulted me on. I touched the mattress gingerly with one hand. I was an entirely different person when I was last confined to lying here. I could tell it was the same mattress because of the blood on it.

I closed my eyes. A few sparks of light seared my vision causing me to open them with a start.

What the hell?

I closed my eyes again. Traces of pure white light danced behind my eyes, almost as if I had closed my eyes at Kings Cross station as a train had gone past.

Hermione.

A voice said. I concentrated on the light. I knew that voice. "Mum?"

Silence.

"I know you're with me, Mum and Dad." I said into the open air. My voice sounded hollow and confined in the tiny room. I didn't know whether I believed my words or not but I tried to inject as much faith as I could into my voice. It was hard when I felt entirely defeated.

"Mum." I said again. "Can you give me a sign that you hear me?"

Instead of my mothers comforting voice a light yet cynical laugh sounded in response.

"The only person that is listening is me. Your stupid parents can't hear you."

Tom's malicious voice broke me out of my hopeless yearning, I looked at the the top of the stairs to see Tom staring down at me. As soon as he took in my full appearance he looked surprised.

"You're bleeding." He descended the stairs, I couldn't even see how he entered the room but as he stepped forward the wall became concrete again.

"What did you do to yourself? He chided, his cold hands grasped my face examining it closely. Our eyes locked in one moment, and a burst of sharp pain slashed through my mind.

"Well?"

He demanded. I blinked, rubbing my eyes. He stepped closer, his tall figure towering over me threateningly.

He snatched up my hands in his own.

"You're a fucking mess." He said lowly. "You've got blood everywhere.... What on earth did you do to yourself?"

"I don't know." I said sarcastically. "Maybe I'm going insane because you confined me to this prison..."

Tom's eyes shone with dark amusement. "Sarcasm?" He reaches up and gripped my face hard with a single cold hand. "Are you really deciding to test my patience again?"

"No." I lied.

"Good. Because you of all people should know only too well what happens when you do," Tom let go of my face and shoved me backwards. I fell on the bed and scrambled back up as though scalded.

No, dear god no.

"No, don't please-" I wasn't going to let this happen to me for a second time. No way. Tom made a grab for me but I was already clenching the front of his cloak in desperation.

I could feel his chest rise and fall beneath my hands. "Don't." I said faintly. "Just don't."

"How about." Tom said into my ear, "you don't."

"I'm not doing this to myself." I objected. "You're doing this to me."

Tom laughed, a purely demonic sound. "You fool," His eyes shone obsidian, "It is all you. All of this. You are doing this to yourself."

"No I'm not." I said indignantly. "You're the one that trapped me here."

"Who said you were trapped?" Tom tilted his head to the side, a purely evil look on his fine features. "I haven't trapped you. I've given you a choice to make. Serve me, or stay here. The choice I am leaving up to you."

He made to leave but I grabbed his arm. "I already serve you." I argued, looking into his eyes. "What more do you want?"

"Hermione." Tom's voice dropped in irritation, eyes sparking in annoyance. "Anything that opposes me is the same as resisting me. Think about everything that makes you think to challenge me on what I deem is right and wrong. Think about how you enjoy doing the things that irritate me most. What inspires those types of rebellious thought processes? I want to know. Because I won't be tolerating it. Just give it some thought. That shouldn't take you very long... Well, if you're as smart as you appear."

He turned to leave and I didn't stop him. The panic came back though when the walls closed up behind him leaving me alone in the confined room once again. Me, alone with my thoughts was a recipe for disaster. I walked over to the bed and sat down heavily. There was nothing in this room to do. If Tom wanted me to have a think about what I was doing wrong he had another thing coming because I was doing nothing wrong. I wasn't going to let go of the future that easily. He thought he could torment it out of me? It was a part of me. He was a fool to think these things I had loved would die inside me. They were eternal, and they gave me everlasting strength. Tom in a way was correct, I was using my mind as a source of strength and a weapon against him. Maybe I should've resisted him this whole time. Instead I was an idiot who was falling for him...

I fell down on the bed on my back, staring up at the plain ceiling. How long had Tom been keeping this prison cell a secret? Had it been here this entire time, just waiting behind his bookshelf for a time like this? I supposed that was the case. I had to do something different to get out of this place. I had to lie.

————————

"You need to eat."

I blinked, coming to my senses slowly. The sight of Tom Riddle glowering at me from the foot of my bed was enough to break me from sleep entirely. "Get up. You're staying in my room tonight. I can't have you in here able to harm yourself." He looked at my hands pointedly. Scabbed and with traces of blood wasn't particularly a nice sight. I got off the bed slowly, pushing my messy braids off my face

"You look dreadful." Tom commented. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He snatched my wrist and lead/ dragged me up the steep small staircase until we reached the wall. Placing a long fingered hand against the cement Tom spoke something alike a spell under his breath, low enough for me to not hear what he said. The wall parted, becoming as ink is in water, a hazy dark mist. We stepped though it. I figured walking through the ashes of fire would feel less heavy on my lungs. I was grateful when we reached his room.

"Surrending to me is something you need to master." Tom told me. "Go and sit on my bed."

I walked over, blinking rapidly. His room was illuminated better than that little prison room was, and I was struggling to adjust to it. I sat on his bed, my legs just dangling off the side slightly. Tom walked to a cupboard, grabbing one of his long black cloaks. "Put this on. You've got blood all on your clothes."

I looked down. Sure enough my jeans and top were stained with blood.

"You want me to take my clothes off?"

Tom gave me a look. "Do you want to take your clothes off in front of me? If so, go ahead. I'm not going to say no to a hot girl who wants to strip."

I suppressed a grimace at his crude language. "Nice try." I said slowly, "but I'm going to use a shower. There's no point getting into anything clean when I'm this filthy."

"Fair point, but there is one thing." Tom looked at me sharply. "How do I know you're not going to run away or attempt to harm yourself if I let you use my bathroom alone?"

"I don't know." I said. In all honesty I was tired and all I really wanted to do was go back to sleep. "I guess you're going to have to trust me."