It had all started innocently enough, with a single red rose on the first of February, no note, no indication of who it was from. She hadn't thought anything of it truthfully. She simply told herself that someone had dropped it on their way past her apartment. No big deal. The Second day, however was different. She came home from a particularly long shift to find a wrapped present set against the door. The present itself was unassuming, wrapped in plain brown paper, brown twine holding it together, a single rose attached by twine. Her first thought was who would possibly want to give her a present? She had been glad to find an attached note, though it didn't give her any indication of who had sent her this, it was merely signed "Secretum Cultor Praecipuus". Well, whoever had sent this either knew Latin or was good at using Google Translate. Picking up the package, she went inside her apartment, unceremoniously tossing it on her kitchen counter for later.
She forgot about the mysterious gift as she went about her nightly business, cooking dinner, cleaning, showering, it wasn't until she sat down with her nightly glass of tea that she turned her attention back to the gift. Carefully she placed the item in her lap, silently opening it and staring at the newly unwrapped item. It was a book, but not just any book. It was a first edition of Bleak House written by Charles Dickens, a book she had wanted to get her hands on for years, as this book was the one that made her want to become a lawyer to begin with. It had been that book that had made two things very clear. The first was that she, Hermione Jean Granger, had a secret admirer. The second was that it was obviously someone she knew, or at least someone who knew her. It was with that realization that she had started her list, determined to figure out this new mystery. After all, as far as she was aware, most people thought her an insufferable know it all, so who would have a crush on her?
For the next 11 days she received a gift, wrapped in plain brown paper with a single red rose attached. Sometimes it was a book, sometimes her favorite wine, her favorite perfume, and with each gift she narrowed down her list. On the seventh day, her admirer had seen fit to leave her another note with the gift, promising her that on the 14th day, on Valentines' Day, his identity would be revealed. She was excited for that hint, that it was in fact a man who was sending her these things, which helped her cross off all the women on her list.
Finally, Finally the 14th had come, and with it, Hermione's shot nerves. She had just come back from twelve hour shift. She was tired, nervous, and just completely out of sorts. She hadn't been able to sleep, her mind still running circles on who her possible admirer could be. Her list was down to two name, both she knew well, but one seemed more likely than the other, after all, the one she would have liked it to be, well. He knew her, was one of her closest friends, but.. Well he wasn't interested in her like that. As far she was aware, he wasn't interested in anyone like that. That left only one possibility. Ronald Weasley. He was a good friend to her, they had known each other for many years, had worked together on convicting several criminals. He was a great man, one of her best friends, and that was the problem. She didn't see him as anything more than a friend, and she honestly had no clue how she was going to tell him. She simply had no clue how to tell someone she wasn't interested, this was a first for her, and he was a colleague to boot, wouldn't that be weird? Would it ruin not only their friendship but also their working relationship?
These were the thoughts that plagued her all day, so when she finally arrived home, and boarded the elevator, she was on her wits end. When the doors slowly slid close she felt as if the world was closing in on her. In a mere twenty levels she would have to break a man's heart. She leaned against the wall, trying to take a deep breath to calm herself but she found it hard to do that.
"Hermione, are you ok?" the voice made her jump a bit, as she looked for the source. It was her neighbor, her friend, Tom Riddle. He was dressed in a suit, his hair perfectly in place, his chiseled features flawless as ever. She knew she should be embarrassed, because she hadn't even noticed him, something that was not at all normal. Everyone noticed Tom, and how could they not? He was simply gorgeous, charming, and his mind. Oh, if Hermione could only delve into his mind she knew she would be lost. His expression slowed slight concern, and it took her a minute to realize they had gone up 2 floors and she hadn't said anything.
" Yes, I'm fine.. I just.." she looked back at the display showing which floor they were on. She noticed that there were two other people on the elevator with them, and she was frustrated that she hadn't noticed them. The doors opened on the fifth floor and an a young man got out of the elevator, giving her a strange look, as if he believed that she was about to crack into a million pieces any minute. Did she really look that bad? She looked back at Riddle who was giving her a strange expression, one she couldn't quite read. " I have a secret admirer" she finally blurted, making the old lady who was riding the elevator look at her, a knowing smile on her kind face.
Riddle looked at her, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised as if he didn't understand her dilemma. " So you are acting distressed because someone likes you?" he asked the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.
"I know who it is" she snapped in annoyance as the elevator doors closed once more. The woman with them stared politely ahead, minding her own business, even as Tom turned towards her, his dark eyes flashing with an emotion she couldn't place, but as soon as it was there, it was gone again.
"Well then they wouldn't be a secret admirer then would they?" he drawled. Hermione glared as the elderly woman gave a snort at his comment.
"No Riddle, they wouldn't be anymore." she hissed at him, a scowl on her face" i made a list" she said as if that explained everything. For her it did, and he seemed to understand because his eyebrow raised again at her in question
"And this not so secret admirer is not someone you are interested in?" he prodded amusement in his voice.
" No, its not" she said" I work with him, and he's a close friend, and I just don't feel that way towards him. The notes he sent said I would know today who he was, and I'm terrified he is standing outside my door, waiting for me.. I've never turned someone down before" she squeaked.
" Who do you think it is?" Tom asked finally.
"Ronald Weasley" Came her breathless reply as the elevator came to a stop at the twelfth floor, and the elderly woman got off without a word, though she did sport a knowing smile that Hermione missed her in panic. The doors closed again, and Hermione again felt like she was suffocating. She felt as if there was a tightness in her chest, her heart beating too fast, her skin cold and clammy. She was so disoriented she didn't even notice that Tom had crossed the small space until she felt his hands on her shoulders, his face close to her own.
" Breath Granger" he drawled, his voice sweeter than it normally was when speaking to her. This was Doctor Riddle that was speaking, his demeanor more professional, more bed mannerly. "You are having a panic attack"
" I bloody well see that" she growled as she clutched her chest, trying to breath deeply but finding she was having problems. They were passing floor fourteen, only six more floors and she would have to face Ron. " I can't calm down" she squeaked weekly. She hated that she was acting this way, that she wasn't in control of her emotions, but she couldn't concentrate on that right now. Her eyes were glue on the display, panic on her face.
Long, warm fingers gripped her chin, pulling her face away from the display and forcing her to look into those dark, hypnotizing eyes.
" Tell me three things you smell" he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument, though that didn't stop Hermione, a scowl at home on her face.
" How is that going to-" she started to snap but he interrupted her by placing a finger over her lips.
" Humor your doctor." he stated smoothly, his eyes flashing a warning he would not tolerate any arguments. Was he like this with his patients? Because seriously, why would anyone want him as a doctor if he did not explain himself? She had known Tom long enough to know that arguing with him wasn't the answer.
He wanted her to name three things she smelt, had he gone completely mental? How could telling him that possibly help her? Of course, Riddle wouldn't accept no for an answer, so she tried her best to concentrate on the smells around her. The first smell that flooded her senses was his aftershave. It was a familiar smell, something she loved to get a whiff of when they hung out, and then there was the undertone of disinfectant on his skin. The third smell was hard to place, it had floral undertones, but why would he possibly smell like flowers? She hardly believed he was the type to use flowery scents, and it was the middle of winter, so it's not like the scent was from outside.
" three things you hear" he demanded, his face an emotionless mask, which only caused Hermione to fume silently. He hadn't even heard what she had smelt, yes now he was demanding something else. What a git, and what the hell was he smirking at?
Hermione closed her eyes, taking a deep calming breath. What did she hear? Breathing, her own, it was slower, calmer, not like it had been earlier. She heard the buzzing of the elevator as it passed another floor, the rattling of the crank slowly dragging them upward. " I really don't get the point of this, you have me naming these things, but not actually allowing me to tell you my answers" she griped. There was that damnable smirk again, as if he knew something she didn't.
His response was a single word" Feel."
She glowered at his answer, or lack thereof. Her attention, however, was quickly brought to his hands. She could feel the warmth of them on her shoulders, and then slowly, oh so slowly they were moving down her clothed arms. His touch was searing, even through the thick layers of cloth. Her eyes focused on the movements, not used to being touched by him like this. Was he trying to comfort her? She felt his warm breath on her hair, causing her to slowly look up. He was closer to her now, when had that happened? She had to crane her neck to see him, to look into those dark orbs, and the intensity of his gaze made her release a small gasp. His hands were resting lightly on her waist, now, their bodies just lightly touching.
"T-Tom?" she was unsure on what to say, on how to act. He had never actively shown interest in her before now. What had changed? Was she imagining this?
"What do you see Hermione?" Tom purred. Did he realize how seductive he sounds? How his words flowed like honey from his tongue? She noticed his lips twitch at her reaction to him. She licked her own lips unconsciously, trying to think, which was becoming increasingly difficult with him pressed against her.
"Hermione" He growled her name, forcing her to return her focus back to the question at hand. She looked into his eyes, amazed at the way they seemed to pull her inside. She felt she could get lost in them forever. Slowly, her eyes trailed down his face, taking in his features. Did his eyes and face count as two things? She wasn't sure, but she was going to count it as two things. Her eyes fell to his lips next. How was it that even his lips looked perfect, like they were made to be kissed?
She wasn't expecting the knowing smirk on his face, or the single raised eyebrow" There is only one sense left Hermione" he was practically purring at her, looking much to pleased with himself" Do you know which one?"
Hermione's eyes jerked away from his lips, landing instead on his eyes. It was as if he knew what she was thinking, knew that she was wondering what his lips would feel like against her own, what his kiss would taste like. Tentatively, almost as if she was afraid to stay the word, she gulped out" Taste."
She couldn't help the fact that her heart skipped a beat at the laugh that was ripped from his throat, filling the small space. His gaze narrowed on her, his lips turned up in a predatory smile" Good girl" he praised her.
It all happened so suddenly, his lips were upon her own in a second, as if he was expecting this to happen the whole time, and later she would find she wasn't surprised that this had happened at all. However, in the moment she couldn't help to get caught up, after all, how long had she been attracted to her neighbor, to the only man who had ever really been able to challenge her intellectually? She responded to his kiss almost feverishly, her hands wrapping around his neck, fingers burying into his neat hair, musing it without a care as she felt him growl into her mouth. She felt Tom lift her up, pressing her against the elevator wall, the handrail digging painfully into her back, making her gasp into his kiss. Tom took advantage of this however, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, exploring her thoroughly, even as his hands expertly ran over her shoulders, pulling over her coat with ease, abandoning it on the floor.
Hermione knew where this was heading, a road she had long wanted to explore. She didn't know where it would lead, but she knew that pleasure would be there. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling his obvious arousal cradled against her. His lips broke from her own, his kisses and nips to her sensitive skin causing a breathy moan from her throat. He pressed his erection firmly against her," do you feel the evidence of what you do to me?" he growled into her throat, his teeth scraping sensitive skin" Do you see how I desire you, how I wish to make you mine?"
She nodded, "yes, Tom.. Please" she wasn't sure what she was asking for, she merely knew she wasn't ready for this to stop. Though she knew she was not an object, she was a human being, that she belonged to no man, a more primal part of her wanted him to claim her in the way he desired.
At the exact moment the doors to the elevators opened, and Tom didn't hesitate, with her legs still wrapped around him, he carried her to her apartment pressing her roughly against the door, even as his lips worked her neck, leaving a trail of bruises in their wake " Keys" he demanded, causing Hermione to reach for her pocket, only to find that she wasn't wearing her coat.
"They are in my coat"
Tom realized the problem instantly, and he let out a growl before fishing out his keys. She knew he had a spare key to her apartment for when she was out of town, but she hadn't realized her kept it on his key ring, not that it mattered. In this instance, it was a good thing he did. It only took him a few seconds to open the door, his lips once again kissing her demandingly as they walked into the apartment. He swung the door shut behind them and placed her on the kitchen counter. It was then she opened her eyes, and she let out a soft gasp. She looked at the man in front of her, a smirk on his lips, and it made sense now. Earlier she had detected a floral scent. Now she knew why, why he had her key on his key ring, why he had smirked at her when she had said it was Ronald. She looked around at the dozens of roses that filled her apartment, her eyes wide " You?" she asked
The only response she received was that damnable smirk.