1.
"It would be advisable for you to keep your distance, if you know what's good for you," Tom Riddle states, reaching for his wine glass.
"Do I seem the type to be swayed by the opinions of others?" Hermione Granger asks, eyeing him curiously over the candle lit spread between them.
"No," he responds, before tipping back his glass of champagne against his bottom lip.
"I thought not," she replies, taking a bite of shrimp from her diamond encrusted fork. He was ostentatious, if nothing else.
"You seem quite unperturbed by what you have heard, so I must caution you not to be deceived darling. My bite is nothing to scoff at."
"I did not become Mistress for Magic on my intellect alone. I have made countless before you quake at my presence, while you my dear, do not even make me tremble."
Regarding each other across the table, each seems to recognize that they have been met with a formidable match.
2.
Propping herself up against the pillow beneath her left arm, her brown eyes slide over the length of Tom Riddle, lying prostrate and stark naked on top of his black satin sheets. His slowed breathing makes her wonder whether or not he is awake any longer, that is, until he looks over to her staring at him.
"I heard you were the devil incarnate," she states, her eyes slightly mesmerized by his lovely form splayed out before her.
"I suppose I could have been, in another life."
"What of this one?"
"Only when you ask me to be, love. For you, anything," he responds, whispering in her ear, before pulling her back under the sheets for acts that would make a virgin blush.
3.
"Moste Potente Potions, hmm?" Hermione reads aloud upon entering the otherwise silent room, quirking one eyebrow up at the tome between her husband's fingers.
"I'm planning something, love, something big," he responds, still staring at his place in the large volume.
"Have I ever known you to do anything but?" she replies, turning from him to grab new clothes.
"No," he responds, smirking back up at her bent over her wardrobe, "I suppose not."
"Alright then. If you need me, I'll be in the bath, washing up before work. Should you wish to join me, I have an extra towel set aside, if you can tear yourself away from your future ambitions long enough," she points out suggestively, walking with clothes in hand out of sight.
Never one to require being told twice, Tom bolts up, foregoing the book for something much more intriguing.