#25prompts
Prompt: Evidence
A/N: I am not British (sadly enough) and my only experience in this genre comes from watching too many police TV-shows (read CASTLE, ONLY CASTLE, ALWAYS CASTLE) so bear it with me.
I am not too satisfied with this one, it was written after a long, long break and features a kind of Fluffy!Tom but also IC? So I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to comment!
"Detective Granger?"
"Captain Dumbledore?"
"My office, please," he says, gesturing inside, "oh, and bring one of those," he adds, nodding to the coffee cup in her hands.
Five minutes later she enters his office, holding an iced mocha-caffe-late, with whipped cream, topped with cinnamon and little chocolate sprinklers, and two of those ridiculous sherbet lemon-candies that only their eccentric captain likes in her left hand and a normal coffee with milk (and fine, maybe a little bit of chocolate, to cover up the foul taste of her much needed caffeine) in her right.
The left cup is delivered every two hours by the coffee shop on the corner of the precinct, she shudders to think how much it has to cost him. Though, knowing Dumbledore, he gets it for free due to once delivered services like saving lives and such.
She searches for a free surface to place his cup on, but, as usual, every square centimetre of his office is filled with trinkets and paper work.
He holds out his hand for it and gestures for her to sit down. Hermione does not like the seriousness of his face as he listens to the other person on the phone.
"Yes, sir, yes I understand. I shall- yes, hum, all right, yes, I'll notify them right away. Yes, a good day to you too, sir"
He sits down, and looks at her, folding his hands on his desk.
"Tell me, Detective Granger, is there any progress on the Smith case?"
"Well, sir," says Hermione puzzled, "seeing as the body was only found this morning at ten, no not really. I mean, Doctor Brown is surely investigating the cause of death, since that was unclear for us, and the crime scene is being searched. I've also called in Mrs. Smith relatives but.." she trails off.
"Yes, well," Dumbledore starts after a pause, "seeing as the mayor was close with her-"
"With her money" Hermione scoffs, and then catching Dumbledore's frown adds quickly "with all due respect sir"
Dumbledore continues as if he had not been interrupted.
"He has offered us help" he raises his eyebrows at Hermione.
"Sir?" she asks, already knowing where this is going.
"The FBI is going to assist us on this case, Granger. Before you even say another word,-" here he pauses, as if wanting to make sure she will indeed remain silent. When no sound comes, he continues, satisfied, "-I thought you would rather like cooperation than them taking the case. I trust I am right. So.. He will arrive here tomorrow morning"
"He?" she asks, knowing that there is nothing else to do about it, as displeased as she is.
"His name is-"
XXX
"Tom Riddle," he says, shaking her hand, "Special FBI agent. You must be Hermione Granger"
"Detective Granger" she corrects the statement, "yes that would be me. You are early" she adds.
He raises an eyebrow. "Had your captain not informed you of my coming?"
"Well, yes, but I had not expected you to be here already."
"Ah, " he says, "I pride myself on punctuality"
"Yes," she answers, trying to not show her annoyance "well, I was about to get coffee and start my day, would you like some?"
He nods and sweeps his arm out as if to say she can go first. She hates that even with her high heeled boots he is still bigger than her. He would be a- she sweeps his form- a whole head taller if she was on sneakers.
He coughs at her obvious perusal of his person, and it hits her that he is handsome. Like, film star handsome, with his length, and blue eyes, and dark hair. He does not 'scream out pure sex' like the crappy romance novel her friend once bought her described the handsome male lead. Ugh. She still refuses to believe it was not meant as a joke gift, but she-
"Granger?" he asks her, obviously amused now.
"Aha, uhm- I am a detective?" she offers and scrapes her throat when the statement comes out as a question.
"Off course, " he nods, conceding easily, "Well Detective , I can assure you that I am only carrying my gun, just in case. I will not be blowing up your police department. " Infuriatingly, he looks even more amused, "now, coffee?" he asks.
"Oh, yes, follow me" she says, and quickly turns, to hide her smirk.
'Three, two, one', she thinks, handing him a grumpy cat mug, and, right on cue, Special Agent Tom Riddle spits out his extra strong black coffee.
"Wh-what the hell is this? You call this coffee?"
"Yes, Riddle, we call that coffee." And to demonstrate her point (and cover up her grin) she takes a long sip- and promptly burst into laughter when she sees his face.
That laughter soon turns into coughing, with the coffee she is drinking, and he pats her back a bit forcefully to help her get over it.
"you knew" he says accusingly.
"Hmm?" she asks, taking another sip, "I'm sorry if our coffee does not live up to the standards of a special agent, here have a cookie. I promise you, they are really good"
He takes it of the plate she offers him, turning it around and around and just as he is about to take a tentative bite her name is called out in the office room.
"Ah, that will be the boys," she says, standing upright. The table gives a crack as she stops leaning against it. As if she is that heavy.
"Come on, I'll introduce you" she says to Riddle, and pretends not to notice his relieved expression as he quickly puts his cookie back down and follows her out the break room.
XXX
Seamus Finnigan smirks when he sees the mug in Tom hands, and gives her a subtle thumbs up. Harry Potter, off course , ruins said subtlety by exclaiming "Ah, the coffee, huh? Welcome, mate" and clapping Riddle on the back.
In turn, she gets a glare from the special agent.
"Granger," says Finnigan, "Lavender called, she says she's got something"
"Lavender, huh?," Hermione asks, shrugging on her jacket.
Finnigan just gives her a blank stare. Hermione smiles, shaking her head. It had to come eventually, she always had known.
"Do you want to come?" she turns to Riddle, "Doctor Lavender Brown is our medical-examiner. Or you can stay here and the boys can give you a review of our crime scene.." she trails off, hoping he will take the hint.
And he sees through it, giving her that raised brow face so many people do, but he is the first that actually pulls it off.
"Oh, I came prepared, Detective Granger. The FBI showed me the photos, and your captain gave me a run over while we waited for you to arrive this morning."
Right. Punctuality.
"Oh, and I'll drive"
Finnigan bursts out in guffaws, Potter stares at Riddle, Hermione gives him her best deadly look.
She gives him her keys too, after five minutes of him not backing down, and when Captain Dumbledore sticking his head through the doorway of his office. Passing the three as she follows Tom Riddle to the elevator, she whispers "Not. A. Word". When the elevator arrives, he turns back, and then, puts a steady hand on her lower back to lead her inside and bends down to whisper in her ear.
"They are still staring, you know"
"Well, they know you only get away with bossing me around because you are an FBI agent," she retorts sourly.
He laughs and his hand does a slow climb on her back before it falls away.
XXX
Lavender's eyes widen as Riddle comes in, but to Hermione's eternal gratitude the woman behaves as professionally as she always does.
She tells them the victim was probably poisoned, and by someone who knew about the heart problems she found, because the deadly cocktail was not typical poison but specifically engineered to interact with the pills they had found in the flask next to the bed and the broken cup of cocoa.
"Oh, and there is also this," Lavender says, gesturing at Mrs. Smith arms
"It looks like an allergic reaction of some sort," Tom frowns.
"Yes, exactly!" Lavender, exclaims, surprised and approving "You really do know your stuff, don't you?"
She is right. He has offered at least four helpful insights by now, and Hermione thinks that she would not have the top closure rate if he worked with them. Not that she really cares, as long as the cases get solved, but she does shudder to think what would have happened if he was the one she was chasing, instead of the one she was working with.
She imagines him sitting in front of her at the interrogation table, with a blank face and evil eyes. Red eyes, maybe, if you could believe in that kind of science fiction scenario.
Evil psychopaths with red eyes. And maybe like a snake face too. She has to hold in her snort, imagining him bald and without eyebrows.
Riddle finishes his short explanation of the first aid course he followed as part of his training and then looks at Hermione expectantly.
"Yes, right, so she came in contact with something she was allergic to, and by the looks of it, it was pretty recent?"
Lavender nods "I had it tested, and it looks like dog allergy. So maybe you could ask her relatives and the housekeeper- she had a housekeeper, right?- if she had a dog, but I suspect she did not, because, like I said, it looks recent"
"I'll get Potter on it," Hermione says, already reaching for her cell phone. "Was that all, Lav?"
The woman smiles at the nickname, because Hermione rarely calls her that. "Yes, that was all. So I suggest you look at someone with the medical history of your victim, though to the odd way in which she was poisoned- quite brilliant actually."
"Yes, well, we will catch the murderer eventually" Hermione says.
"You always do" Lavender nods, and then her face contorts as if she said something she shouldn't have said. Hermione breathes in deeply and tries to ignore the upcoming pain, her dad, oh her dad, when she catches Riddle's gaze on her, searching, analysing, looking for clues he can pierce together into a story.
"Right, yes, uhm," Hermione smiles at Lavender, "see you later"
She turns to Riddle, "are you ready to go?"
"After you" he says, standing aside to let her pass.
Lavender throws her a wink with her hand on her heart after his gentlemanly action. Hermione, very un-Hermione like, sticks her tongue out to her.
And is off course caught by Tom Riddle as he holds out his hand for the car keys she had taken in the hope she could drive on the way back.
That would be a no.
XXX
"Pas me the noodles, Finnigan?" Hermione asks.
He frowns, and glares at her. She glares right back. Really, yes she knows they are his favourite, but she is hungry, and dammit she wants noodles.
"Here," Potter says absently, reaching out with the hand that is holding the document he is supposed to be researching, while he looks at his iPhone to see if his wife Ginny didn't send him a message. She is pregnant, and she texts him every five seconds to make sure he is available, even though she is not due for two weeks.
"I got it,.. mate" says Tom, saving the precious document and handing her his noodles.
"Thanks" she nods at him, looking at the noodles as Gollum might have looked at his precious ring.
"So-" Riddle and she start speaking at the same time. Hermione nods for him to do so, and searches the chicken she likes with her noodles. Finnigan passes it to her. He does not get a nod, because he did not pass her the noodles earlier, and that's how Hermione's world works.
He glares at her, and she puts on a childish face.
Tom looks way too amused with all this interactions.
"So," he repeats, "let's.." he looks at Hermione, "what did you say earlier to me?"
"Let's recap" Hermione smiles sweetly at him, amused that the common language of the London Police can throw him off that much.
Potter proves himself useless as he spills the coca cola over the previously saved document, and then starts dabbing it so forcefully that it almost tears. Finnigan sighs loudly and takes it from Potter's hand, but Hermione knows those two love each other like brothers, and the Irish redhead always acts this way.
It turns out in fact they have found information. Finnigan spoke to a economics friend about some papers found in Hebzibah Smith's house.
" Mrs. Smith was doing some paperwork, counting money from a business or something. We only found one page, that lay on the ground and the finances are all weird. Whoever this is, he claims his business is on this address," he hands the paper to Hermione, who gives it to Tom, "but I checked, and it is an empty warehouse. I don't think he was up to legal things"
"Oh!" exclaims Potter, still looking at his silver backed phone. Hermione expects him to jump up any second and knock the small break room table over in his haste to get to Ginny, but then he looks up and says: "I think I may have the explanation to that. Remember the allergy Doctor Brown told you about? Well turns out that Smith went to talk to a dog trainer two days before her dead, so the 26th, and she asked specifically about drug dogs."
Hermione's mouth falls open.
"So, Mrs. Smith is helping someone with some finances-"
"-But he accidentally gives her the wrong papers-" Riddle adds.
Hermione turns to him, her noodles forgotten.
"-She discovers something is not right, probably checks on the warehouse too-"
"-hires a drug dog to go and take a look-"
"-Confronts her nephew-"
"-and he kills her"
Hermione frowns. "Just like that, though? And she did not think to go to the police? To take legal action whatsoever?"
"Yes, and whom was she helping?"
Hermione yawns, stretches and takes back her noodles.
"Well, guys, tomorrow we'll test if there are any fingerprints on that paper, and we'll go check on that empty warehouse after we talk to that dog trainer, oh, and we'll also look at the housekeeper and the relatives, see if they are mixed up in any of this, and I want to know if Smith did not take action of any kind before she 'confronted' whoever did this, if it is what we think that it is. Let's call it a day, and finish this food"
Potter leaves immediately, to go check on Ginny. Finnigan calls him a softie, grinning about how he would never let a woman dictate his every move, until he suddenly gets a text and leaves rapidly too.
"From whom do you think that text was?" Tom asks her, looking completely relaxed and perfect as he sits back in his chair, his tie still centre and not a wrinkle on his clothes. He still looks as meticulous as he looked this morning. Hermione raises a self-conscious hand to her bushy hair, but drops it when his eyes follow it, hawk like.
"Oh, I bet- Lavender"
"Brown?" he says at the same time.
They make eye contact.
They laugh. Fully and outright.
XXX
"Well I don't see anything here" Hermione whispers, because the dark tends to make you lower your voice. She never knows why, really. Maybe some sort of respect to the universe, or maybe because everything seems so eerily calm when it is dark. So devoid of life.
"Yes there is," he agrees with her tone of voice, whispering too, "look" he grabs her arm and points at the floor.
"There is no dust" she exclaims, moving towards the spot to check the floor.
A bang suddenly sounds from the main entrance room.
She bolts forward, but he tightens the grip he still has on her arm and gives her a warning look. Understanding passes between them, and then they are both moving to the doorway.
She scans right and he sweeps left. A shadow runs to the great metal doors of the warehouse.
"Hey, hey!" Hermione yells, running after it. She is too far away however, and before she can draw her gun the figure darts outside and the door starts closing.
"Well, this is inconvenient," says Tom right before they are surrounded by darkness, as the doors shut with a echoing thud.
XXX
"The backdoor?"
"Locked"
"Did you check?"
"Only three times"
"Well, maybe.." she hedges
He sighs, and-well she can't see right now but she would bet a couple of fingers on it-sweeps his hand out in a dramatically way.
She pushes the green emergency bar. Locked.
"Well?" he asks, sounding way too smug.
"I had to check, didn't I?" she snaps, grumpy.
There is silence and then-
"Off course, Detective Granger" he suddenly whispers in her ear, his breath tickling the nape of her neck.
She shudders.
XXX
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Oh, can you stop that?" he asks, annoyed; "clearly we are not getting out of here, did you even see that door? We have no signal on our phones either, so I will not be able to call an ambulance when you finally succeed in breaking your arm with all your attempts at forcing the door. Finnigan and Potter surely will be tracking us down already. They knew we were coming here didn't they?"
"Well, Special Agent Riddle, since you have been exceptionally clever you surely must have realised the figure that fled earlier was our suspect, who, by now, probably has booked a flight to the Caribbean. So-"
"So, what? You plan on breaking down that steel door, a fact that you in all your cleverness, must have noticed. We already swept the whole room. Let's face it, there are no light switches, no other exit routes, the windows are too high for either of us to reach without a ladder. You even tried to stand on top of me, my shoulders still hurt mind you, and you still did not reach it. There is nothing else to do but wait."
".. Did you just call me fat?" she asks, hurt, ignoring the rest of his tirade.
"What?"
"You said your shoulders still hurt."
He laughs, "I was calling you heavy, Granger, not fat. It only surprised me because you are so tiny."
"I am not" she sounds like a petulant child, but she can't help it. She is hungry.
He chuckles again, sounding a lot closer and she is startled when a warm hand takes her own.
"Here, Granger, why don't you just come sit with me, against this nice, sturdy wall?"
Her protest is ruined when she starts to follow him before even speaking.
"And why would I do that?"
"I have chocolate" he says.
"..Okay, fine, give me the chocolate"
"Sit down first"
"Riddle"
"Granger.. who has the chocolate?"
She sits.
"Now give it to me"
He laughs, and drapes an arm over her shoulders slowly, nuzzling her left cheek with the silver foil of the chocolate bar.
"Is that- Honeydukes? Oh, I love their chocolate!" she exclaims, swiftly taking the chocolate from his grip.
He laughs again, and the hand on her shoulders tightens it's grip.
XXX
She is pacing when there suddenly is light in the warehouse.
"Finally!" she exclaims, shielding her eyes against the bright sunlight.
"Nice to see you too, Granger" Finnigan retorts, opening the doors wider so she and Riddle can pass.
"It has been only five hours, you know" Potter adds.
"Yeah, we thought you guys may have found some useful lead here-"
"But we realised, that nope, you just needed saving"
"Imagine, that," says Finnigan, giving Potter a look, "a measly London Police detective actually saving a special FBI agent"
"Oh, please," Riddle cuts in, "this hardly counted as saving. It was more delayed work as anything. And you hardly had to detect anything. Granger had told you yesterday we would be checking the warehouse"
"Yes, well, we actually found something Riddle" Potter retorts.
"Guys!" Hermione exclaims, "when you are quite done with this male testosterones contest, "we actually have an ongoing murder investigation, remember? Oh, and.. coffee?"
Potter laughs and hands her the coffee with an affectionate look that says they have been working together for too long.
Riddle places a hand on her waist, bends down to whisper: "It's not a contest when you know I'm the best, darling" and promptly steals her coffee cup.
"It's vanilla," she calls out as she trails behind him, on their way to the car, "I don't think you'll like it"
He gives her a slow, measured look and a wicked grin spreads across his face.
"No, you're right," he mumbles, but she still hears, "I like it quite.. rougher"
She wills her cheeks to stop blushing, and speeds up 'till she is next to Potter.
"So... any developments?"
"Oh, yeah," he starts-
XXX
"Just admit it, Sam. Your great-aunt saw some things she wasn't supposed to see, and she figured it out, because you were just that obvious and when she threatened to scrap your sorry arse from her will- we spoke with her lawyer- you killed her before she could undertake action" Riddle drawls, almost lounging in his chair, looking perfectly composed.
Hermione is sitting next to him, looking at the sorry sight Sam Smith is before them. When he had come in with his wife, Katherine, he had looked meticulous. So had she, for a doctor who worked at the emergencies in the hospital. Now he looked hung over, and pallid and he reeked pretty badly.
"No, no, no," the man shakes his head, "that's n-not ho-how it went! I did-did-didn''t k-kill her." He sobs.
"But she figured everything else out?" Riddle pressed him. He was really impressive, Hermione thought. They hadn't been here for ten minutes and he was looking as handsome as ever-
Uhm, she meant he almost had a confession out of him already.
"Yes," Sam sobbed, yes, "but I didn't kill her! I emptied the warehouse you found" he gestured at them and then I went to take a drink with some friends and waited for my world to implode."
"Overdramatic much" Riddle whispers to Hermione.
Behind the one-sided mirror/window Detective Potter and Finnigan eyes almost plop out of their sockets from shock when always composed Detective Hermione Granger lets out a burst of laughter in the middle of an interrogation.
Finnigan pokes Potter rather hardly.
"Twenty pound they shag by next week"
"By tomorrow" Potter murmurs back.
"It's on"
XXX
"So, it turns out Sam Smith's alibi checks out," Granger tells Riddle, leaning against the break room table. "Oh, thanks," she says distractedly accepting the coffee he presents her with, the good stuff off course, "he was indeed in club Raxina, drinking and 'waiting for his world to implode'" she quotes, rolling her eyes.
Riddle hums and looks thoughtful.
"So, that means we don't have suspects anymore?" he asks; "I mean, the housekeeper was cleared when it turned out he would be inheriting everything and Sam Smith has an alibi. You checked his known associates didn't you?"
"Yeah," says Hermione, "none of them seem to have anything to do with it, they all work in the small, legal, almost broke business he owns.."
They both stay silent for a while.
"Okay, let's recap," Hermione starts pacing, "On October 26th, Mrs. Smith was helping her nephew with some papers. She discovers the whole drugs deal-
"-poorly concealed in the first place-"
"And,-" she pauses to send Riddle a mandatory glare, "goes to talk to her lawyer the next day first thing in the morning, before confronting Sam"
"Sam then goes to the club-"
"No, wait," Hermione frowns, sitting down on the table "It would be too early to go to the club. The housekeeper told us he left her around six. And they did not go eating with friends-"
"They went directly to the club," says Riddle, realization dawning on him too.
"So," Hermione continues, turning to look at him, and finding his intense blue eyes- how did she never notice they were blue?- already on her, "maybe he went home first-"
"to eat and to talk-" he raises his eyebrows at Hermione, triumphantly.
Hermione, equally triumphant: "-to his wife, the doctor-"
"The personal doctor of Mrs. Smith. Hermione, the pills Doctor Brown showed us..?"
Hermione jumps down from the table and he stands upright from the closet. She beats him to the evidence locker and produces the pills with a flourish.
"Prescribed by Doctor Katherine Smith-Jones"
They grin at each other.
"So," Potter asks, looking up from his iPhone as he walks into the break room, "What did we miss?"
XXX
"Well, Special agent Riddle," Hermione offers him her hand, "thank-you for your cooperation on this case"
Behind them Katherine Smith is still yelling for her 'worthless husband' to call their lawyer, pleading her innocence. It doesn't matter. Her fingerprints will be found all over the deadly cup cocoa the victim had consumed that night.
"It was my pleasure, Detective Granger" Tom shakes it, looks at her inquisitively, "walk me to the parking lot?"
She nods and hits the elevator button.
With a hand on her back Tom leads her inside, and then presses her to the elevator walls.
"You know," he starts, one of his hands trailing down her back, the other one on her neck, "I might tell my department how valuable my help solving this case was"
"Oh?" Hermione makes, her heart thundering in the vicinity of her throat.
"yes," he nods seriously, his face coming that much closer to hers, his hand moving down, down "So, I might to be forced to check on you really soon if I don't hear anything from you in a while"
"I didn't think that was-uhm- FBI jurisdiction"
"I might make it my personal mission, then" he whispers against her lips, and then he is kissing her, and she is kissing him back, and she has this insane urge to laugh-she is happy-
"Damn it!" They hear Finnigan yell, Potter laugh and the low voices of Captain Dumbledore.
"They bet on us, didn't they?" Tom asks her, amused, withdrawing from her lips long enough to speak.
Hermione hates the distance.
"You know," she mimics him, "I might tell your department how your definition of 'valuable' is sitting against the wall of a warehouse, eating chocolate, if the contact takes too long to establish"
"Let's not leave it too long then," Tom answers and kisses her again as the elevator doors close.