Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition as Beater 1 for the Appleby Arrows, Season 3: Finals Round 1
Prompts:
(character) Tom Riddle Jr./Voldemort
(setting) Paris
(word) curious
(emotion) pride
This is an AU set in the 1800s. I suggest you don't think too much and just let the story take you where it wants you to go... hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Hermione's safe, happy place had always resided in the romantic city of Paris. She had spent every year as a child vacationing there, and had made very frequent trips even as a young adult. In fact, the only thing that kept her from picking up her life and permanently living in a beautiful Parisian flat, was her friends and family back in England.
Her current reason for her being there now, however, was business instead of pleasure. Hermione and her two closest girlfriends, Ginny and Luna, were on a very important mission: to find a husband. Only it was really only Hermione and Luna that needed to, as it was practically known through all of Europe that Ginny would be marrying a nobleman, Lord Harry James Potter. As for Luna, well, who knew what that girl wanted, she seemed fine to do what anyone told her to and her father telling her to find a husband was no different.
Hermione was the curious case, really. To the outside world it would seem that she had never cared to be courted by someone, yet inside she knew she was horribly romantic. Her countless novels telling stories about true love made her always take a second glance at any young man that past her. She wanted love, she wanted her own true love. The only downside to being such a romantic was the loss of reality that came along with being in a relationship. No one was perfect, yet there was no one who strives harder to be perfect than Hermione Granger.
Or so she thought.
Because there happened to be another young fellow who tried even harder to be perfect.
Tom Riddle was handsome, rich, smart, musically talented, an amazing horseback rider and just about great at everything he tried. Some people thought he practiced hours for perfection, others thought he was perfection. A rising star in society thanks to his social skills and remarkable charm, he had just about everything a man could want. The only thing missing: a wife.
Not that that mattered to him, he'd never been romantic. His father left before he was even born and his mother died shortly after he was born, leaving him to be an orphan. That changed one day, though, when he saved the Duke's son from being trampled by a horse and carriage. After that, the Nott family welcomed him with open arms (and hands full of money) as did society.
However, because of that he was being 'gently nudged' to find someone good enough to marry and provide an heir for him. Something he was not looking forward to at all.
o.O.o
The ball that they were both attending was magical, though they not know it. It literally had the power to bring those together and was said that no one stepped foot into the room without ending up marrying someone else in it. It could be that night that each lover introduces themselves to their 'soul mate' or it could be many years later when the couple realize that they had attended the same ball together, Le Amour Salle de Bal.
It was as beautiful and glamorous as it sounded. The men came in through a set of double doors on one side of the lower ballroom, dapper and handsome, as the ladies glided down a grande staircase, the skirts of their dresses brushing the ground and their eyes twinkling in the dimly lit room, as if they were stars in the night sky.
The ball would start off with wine and other treats being served to the guests, mingling with each other before the big dancing event of the evening would take place. With that, everyone would get the opportunity in meeting each other, as the switching of partners was very frequent in the dances.
Hermione had found herself alone at that time, having been separated from Ginny (who had spotted Harry) and Luna (who had been whisked away by some blonde and pale nobleman, she had felt a bubble of pride for her friend, quickly followed by dread of being alone). She had been thinking about whether or not she should go for her third glass of wine when she heard someone clear their throat from behind her.
"You seem to be enjoying tonight's wine selection more than most here."
Hermione, a bit offended, snapped around and fought to have her face remain relaxed and calm. Had he been watching her? "Some of us need it a lot more than others, I should say. Liquid courage." She then made it a point to finish off her second glass while grabbing a third from a server's tray.
"This is a ball for romantic nuts hoping to just jump in to a marriage without anyone questioning them. How many people in here will elope tomorrow just to get a quick start, I'm guessing half," he said. Hermione took a moment to notice his slicked back ebony hair, startling browns eyes with almost a red glint, slender nose and full lips. He was tall with a built shape, as if he did something that included a lot of activity, but yet again it could have just had something to do his with his tux.
Hermione broke her gaze when she noticed he saw her staring at him. "Speaking as one of those, as you say, 'romantic nuts' some of us do need a little something to get them speaking with others, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that."
Tom chuckled and shook his head. "My dear, you don't want to find yourself drunk and alone with a lot of the men in here. I know most of them, I know what they can do. I was just trying to look after you." He had turned to walk away, but was caught by Hermione's hand that had wrapped around his wrist. In a second she had yanked her hand away, as if she couldn't believe that she had physically touched a stranger. She wanted to ask him a million questions. Where do you live? How many kids do you want? How much a year do you make?
"Thanks," she spurted out instead, as her questions weren't appropriate for the time being.
Tom dipped his head and bowed. "Anytime. Now, I'm not quite clear I caught your name, I am Lord Tom Riddle."
"Lady Hermione Granger," she said breathlessly. His eyes were staring a hole into hers, as if he was reading her mind. She shuddered. He pretended not to notice.
"My Lady Hermione, if you shall dance with me at the big event tonight I would be delighted," he leaned forward to kiss her hand. Hermione took that second to compose herself.
"How charming, I'm happy to accept, of course, that is if no one better proposes to dance with me." As she said that she took a moment to feel satisfied with herself before letting herself be whisked away in the crown, leaving behind a Tom Riddle with a raised eyebrow and smirk on his face.
Thank you for reading!