One would suggest that the brightest witch of her age, should not be even in the slightest bit attracted to the teenage Voldemort. In fact she herself agreed. However the brightest witch of her age should also not have accidentally traveled into the past. Yet here she was, sitting across from Tom Riddle in the year 1943.
"Good morning Riddle. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked with sarcasm, yet he was naturally amused, his arrogant smirk spreading on his face. Sometimes she wondered if he held any other expression.
"Good morning to you too Granger. I was just curious as why you are in a library at six o'clock in the morning. Do you ever do anything but read?"
"Do you do anything but stalk girls all day in hope they will actually go out with you? Or have you given up at this point?"
"Ouch. I would find that offensive, but I think one has already fallen for me."
She rolled her eyes. "Riddle. Stop. I think we have established that this will never happen."
"You can say that all you want Granger, but it doesn't mean it's true." He picked up the book in front of her, and examined it.
"Hey!" she protested letting out a sigh.
He met her eyes, and held the book out Gingerly. "Fine. You can have it back."
She looked at him curiously for a moment. She reached for the book. "Thank you-" But as she grabbed a hold of it, he pulled the book back, causing there lips to collide. It was a chaste kiss, however it still sent butterflies through her.
He had pulled away, a mischievous glint in his eye. "See. I know you want me." he whispered. He then disappeared around one of the bookshelves, leaving her utterly confused. It was a foul trick, and had happened faster then she could register. Yet it had worked exactly how he intended.
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Snow began to fall, blanketing the grounds in white layers. It was the first snowfall of the year, the kind where you would press your face up against the window pane, just to glimpse the falling snowflakes.
Hermione took notice of this, and seeking an escape from her over analyzing mind on Tom Riddle, she made her way outside for the walk in the new-fallen snow.
The cold hit her as soon as she stepped from the castle, and even though it stunned her, her mind still fell back to Riddle. The fact that she had kissed him three times now worried her. But she swore she would never again.
Her attention flickered to a group of Ravenclaws trapping through the snow, from the look and sound of it, having a nice time, as laughter echoed from the group. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, jealous of the friends.
She missed Ron and Harry terribly, especially since they would have gone to hogsmede already, as it was tradition with the first snowfall. She wondered if they were ok with out her. She was so lonely in this time. It's not like she had anyone to confide in, other than Abraxas and the dark lord. Great. Her only acquaintances in the past, were the ferrets grandfather and Voldemort, the most feared wizard in her time. Lovely.
In some decision she ended up making her way to hogsmeade. Finally reaching the village after a short walk, she took in the familiar surroundings. Hogwarts students were about the cobbled street, snow sticking to their hair. She walked further through the village noticing shops were filled, and the displays held many trinkets. It looked much more lively during the day, verses the barren darkness she experienced when coming here for a room the first night she arrived.
Noticing the three broomsticks she slipped inside, hoping for a warm butterbeer. Also she partly wished to escape the cold.
Her eyes fell on a table in the corner. She started to head over, however somewhere her name was called, causing her to address the noise.
"Granger. Over here."
She was caught of guard slightly, and her eyes flickered between Malfoy whom was waiting expectantly and the empty table. He was surrounded by a few other Slytherins, and she didn't really wish to hang out with them. However weather she felt obliged or just rather didn't want to hurt his feelings, she headed over to the table.
As she approached she noticed the group quiet, and a few glances were shared. It was obvious some didn't want her there. Which made sense, her being new good girl Gryffindor. She sucked in a few breathes, trying to relax. What would they do? They were just a bunch of teenage boys. "Hi." She said feebly.
"Oh here" Abraxas said standing up and pulling out the chair.
"Thank you." She said, sitting down. There was an awkward silence, and although she wished their conversation would continue, or some sort of talking, everybody was just looking at her.
The silence continued elongating the tension, until one of them with a pair of steely green eyes held a slight smirk. "So....what did you have to do to get Riddle to ignore your mudblood status?" His gaze bore through her, and she wasn't sure if his question was a joke, a statement of superiority, or both.
"Pardon?" she asked trying not to sound clueless.
"Did you give him a wank or two?" There was a small chorus of snickers around the table at the suggestive remark.
"That's enough Mulciber." She heard Abraxas warn through clenched teeth.
He glanced away from her, and rather at the blonde, there being an exchange of looks that showed loathing. Mulciber seemed to be taking a sadistic joy out of Abraxas's anger. "Don't worry Malfoy. I'm just joking."
Another silence fell. Yet again she could feel the eyes silently observing her. She wondered then if they were expecting some sort of hipogriff or something to come out of her mouth. She was nervous, having no idea why, as she didn't care what anyone thought of her. Yet the situation seemed to increase in awkwardness, and she prayed Mulciber would remove his hardened eyes off of her.
'say something' she thought, parting her mouth. "So is that what teenage boys assume? That girls are only worth talking to if they give someone a wank or two?" She asked confidently, and his words repeated with challenge seemed to throw him off guard. She noticed him clench his jaw, possibly annoyed that anyone retorted to his comment.
However as she held his gaze defiant, a twisted smile spread on his face. "The mud-bloods feisty."
Hermione was not thrown by this comment, as she was used to it at this point. However she got an anxious feeling as he pushed a bottle of fire-whisky forwards so it sat in front of her. She traced the movement with her eyes, letting out a silent breathe knowing what the action meant.
"Go ahead. I won't mind." He sneered, already holding a smirk. He expected her to reject it.
She stared at it unblinkingly. They were underage wizards, not to mention she hated the taste of alcohol. One time her mother allowed her to have a sip of wine once, and the taste was awful. But seeing as this was a test, she reached for the bottle. Afterall one sip couldn't hurt.
She bought it to her lips, quickly swallowing a sip. It burned and stung her throat, and she tried her best not to wince at the excruciating taste. She set the bottle down on the table, and Muclciber now had a look of approval.
She crossed her arms and took in a deep breathe, ginning slightly with the feeling of gratification.
He gave her one more look before breaking out in conversation with the group down the table, and for once the attention was not drawn to her.
"what?" she asked turning to Abraxas on her right. He was staring at her with a look as though he knew something she didn't.
"You realize you didn't have to do that." he said with a small smile.
"Well it's done now. And besides maybe he won't be such a arse."
He chuckled lightly in response. "He was right Granger. You are fiesty."
She threw him a pointed look, however it wasn't as effective as she hoped, for she couldn't keep the grin of her face. "And so what if I am?"
"I don't care, as long as you don't mind if I have some of that." He gestured to the fire-whiskey.
"Go ahead. It's not like I want it." she scoffed.
"Thanks Granger." He reached for the bottle, but instead it was intercepted, as another person grabbed it.
Hermione's eyes trailed to the person, and her breathe hitched as she found it to be Riddle. He took a swig of the liquid, then met her eyes with a forceful gaze. She froze, realizing the group again was watching. Not only did their table quiet down, but the rest of the pub seemed interested on what he had to say.
"What are you doing here Granger?" He asked strictly, his voice deep.
"Well...I-" Her mouth hung open stupidly, and she tried to ignore the warmth spreading to her cheek. Her eyes shifted to what he had tucked under one arm, and a bubbling feeling started to form in her stomach. It wasn't of anxiety, but more anger. He held a potions book, and she eyed it skeptically, having a strong intuition it was her's. Swiftly he threw it into his schoolbag out of her view, confirming it definitely was her book. But more so the half blood princes.
She glanced back up, and in that second they held eye contact, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. It was a silent connection, yet still was a clear. She flicked her eyes away, focusing on a blank spot on the table. It took her a great deal to not call him out on it right then, but she knew it wouldn't be wise. And so she restrained herself, biting down on her lower lip.
Tom took his seat, leaning back into the chair, and he too, stared at a fixed point blankly.
"Lord.."
"Shut up Mulciber, I don't need you chewing my ear off the second I sit down." he spat harshly.
If their were suspicions before of something going on between Riddle and her, it was rather evident now. The atmosphere was thick, and if it weren't for Malfoy who started a conversation with the others, Hermione was sure she would drop over dead.
And so the rest of the group chated for what must have been twenty minutes, making jokes, and discussing really useless things. But Hermione droned them out, and remained quiet along with Tom, except for a few yes or no's. She took the risk, by glancing over to Tom, and when they made uncomfortable eye contact once more, she shifted.
She stood up slowly, grabbing her coat. "I think I'm going to head back to the castle." she addressed to Malfoy.
"Are you sure?" He asked concern plainly across his face.
"Yeah. It will be dark soon so I thought I would."
"Do you want me to go with you?" he asked.
"No. It's fine, I'll be OK."
"Hey! stay feisty Granger!" Mulciber shouted realizing she was gathering her things. Did these people have any other vocabulary than feisty? But she simply nodded in return, for it was probably better than mudblood.
She turned around, and didn't look back as she exited the shop. Entering the cold outside, she took a few breathes finally escaping the horrible experience. Self noting to never step into the pub again, she started back to the castle.
As she walked, she tried to analyze everything that was said, however she must have been to nervous at the time, for the encounter was very hazy in her memory. She wasn't liked by the group, but somehow proved herself worthy. Yet again, everything up to when he arrived didn't matter, since him being there alone was the worst possible thing to make her day worse.
Again, the potion's book came to mind. She knew exactly what she was going to do. She continued to walk, filled with annoyance at the stupid, arrogant, nosy little, irritatingly handsome thing that was Tom Riddle.
Walking and walking for what felt like ages, she entered the castle, and made her way through the corridors. She slowed down once reaching the third floor, glancing over her shoulder. She was always cautious, wondering if filches cat would dart around from behind a statue. Yet come to think of it, Mrs. Norris probably wasn't alive yet. Was Filch? Did he even work at this school? Most-likely there was still some creepy old caretaker, so she approached the doorway slowly, trying not to make her footsteps heard.
She reached the room with the trapdoor, noticing through the small window the sun was setting. She heard a sudden thud from somewhere snapping her head around. Nothing was there, yet she felt strange. For the third time this year, and the fourth time in her life, she lifted the trapdoor and stared down into the room. She scaled down the ladder, approaching the room that to her was the most special, and grandest.
Finally she stepped through the door, yet the torches were already lit, reflecting of the shiny marble chess board. She scanned the room, noticing the bookcases were also revealed, and at one table with an armchair, books were scattered across the surface in a organized fashion.
She studied them from afar, but found herself walking across the board to where the table was, until she was close enough to see the covers. One laid open, and she picked it up delicately, turning it to read the title. She got a nervous feeling in her stomach. Horcruxes. was written boldly across the front. She turned back to the page that was open, scanning the text. "...the definite way to escape death..." she read out loud. It was circled in black ink, most likely Riddle's doing.
Her mind was racing. Was she shocked? Why would she be? She knew Tom Riddle was Voldemort, she knew how dark he would become, yet somehow that factor had slipped her mind and concern for the past few weeks. He didn't seem evil. He didn't seem....yet perhaps people weren't always what they seemed. She didn't know Tom Riddle at all.
Hermione didn't realize how long she stood there just staring blankly at the books, trying to formulate what she thought of him. Then, breaking the silence and her breathing, was a few footsteps in the distance, which halted after only a second. She lifted her head to meet his eyes. And again, she chose not to say anything.
"Granger..." He started, pausing then for what seemed like an eternity. He didn't say anything more, perhaps deciding against it, and she stared at him waiting for him to explain himself.
"Where is it?" she asked, not with anger, or kindness, or impatience. Her tone was unreadable, because she didn't know what she felt anymore.
"Where is what?"
"My book, I would like it back, and I don't appreciate that you took it." She remained still as he pulled out the book and walked across the room. He held the book out to her, and she looked down at it skeptically. "How do I know you won't let go again and kiss me?"
"You won't. But that is where trust comes in."
"I don't trust you!" she said coldly, and he exhaled.
"I know. But maybe you could learn to." He said hopefully. Again the line was so sincere, and it was hard to believe he was dealing with dark magic at all. 'He is manipulating you...telling you what you want to here.' A voice in the back of her head said.
She took the book, and restrained her automatic thank you from escaping. "I assumed you read it?"
"Yes."
"Well than. I'll be going, I got what I wanted." She looked away from him, inhaling a breath and began to leave.
As she passed him his hand coiled around her wrist, pulling her back to face him. "Granger. Don't go." he said simply, and again, she found it hard to resist his words.
"I have to."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Can you just give me a chance?"
"I have already given you a thousand chances."
"I'm asking for one more." Again there was silence. She did want to see Tom Riddle be a nice person, she knew deep down he was good, yet she couldn't trust him just because she wanted to. It wouldn't be smart.
"It's not that simple."
"Well than make it. I know you don't like me, for some reason you have never liked me. But Granger, you have to give me a chance to know if you like me."
She stared at him, completely shocked how he seemed like a different person. No sarcastic remarks, no taunting. And because she was curious she asked him a question. "Are you afraid of death?"
"No, I'm not afraid of anything, I've already told you."
"But I am. I'm afraid of caring for someone so much, when they don't in return. I'm afraid of getting my heart broken." Oh Merlin she just said that out-loud. What was happening? She must be under a spell. That was it, the only logical answer.
"I won't break your heart."
"You can't be certain." she said simply. "And I'm not finished. I'm also afraid of getting bad grades, losing people....friends. I'm afraid I'm never going to go...."
go back home...
"Go where?" he asked stepping closer.
"Nothing."
"Dance with me." he stated, causing her to glance up.
"What?"
"Just dance with me."
"You hate dancing, and besides I already have remember?"
"So surely you won't mind again."
"Where?"
"Here."
"But this isn't a dance floor, It's a chess board." She didn't care that she let that slip. He already knew she was already down here before. More so she was making an excuse, because she needed a reason to not dance with him. Otherwise she just might.
He grabbed her hand, and she willingly let him. She stared at there interlaced fingers and knew she was making a mistake. "We shouldn't do this." she whispered.
He smiled slightly, leading her to the center of the board. "No we shouldn't." he agreed, slowly moving his other hand so it snaked around her waist. He pulled her closer to him, tight against his chest, so that she inhaled sharply. "Relax Granger."
She placed her available hand on his shoulder, and they began to sway back and forth, his lips next to her ear. "There is no music." she said, most likely because she was so nervous.
"I know Granger." he whispered, this time it sent shivers through her. She could feel her heart beating rapidly, so fast she thought it would explode. Perhaps he felt her exhales on his neck, but whatever it was, he pulled back slightly to look in her eyes. And he moved closer, closer closer.
He had almost connected his lips to hers, but she let out a gasp. "Stop." she said pushing him away. "I can't do this." she breathed heavily.
"Granger."
"No. I can't. Not now."
"Then when?"
"I don't know." She she leaned forward placing a kiss on his cheek, then backed away. "Goodnight Riddle."
It wasn't a real kiss. But the spot where her lips brushed his cheek somehow spread a warmth through him, and he decided it was better than any snog he had ever had before.