Disclaimer: Its all Rowling, baby.
Note from author: This one was hard to write!
Summary: "Stuck in a dark little room with me, Riddle? Wouldn't that cramp your style?"
This Day in Age
Chap 7: The Art of Manipulation
Weeks blended and blurred together to the point Hermione couldn't remember what she wore the day before let alone what she did. She was still unable to take classes and found herself envious of those who did. Day after day she spent languishing in the library. She had learned not to push herself after the fainting incident, so the books didn't cause her headaches anymore, but they also no longer held the same joy or thrill that she had once felt for them. It was no fun to already know a book before you read it. During their first meeting, Professor Dumbledore and the Headmaster had mentioned an attempt to lift the Obliviate charm, but she had heard no word from them since. Hermione had begun to wonder if they had forgotten about her.
So there she was, sitting at a table behind the stacks, absently flipping through; 'Vampires, and Other Parasitic Creatures to Avoid.' when she sighed and let her head drop onto the table with a dramatic thump. It seemed as though the loud ticking of the giant clock in the center of the library was slowing to a halt. tick. tick. tick. Tick...Tick...Tick... It was going to be a long day.
"Perhaps you should try the restricted section." Came a low, velvety-smooth voice, centemeters from her ear, snapping her from her reverie.
"No one's allowed in there." Git. She thought.
"Not everyone." Tom agreed, silently conjuring Hermione's library card from her bag. She tried to grab it from him, but he pulled it away from her grasp. "Only those with the Headmaster's signature are allowed in," He lay the card flat on the table and pointed a pale, slender finger firmly on Armando Dippet's long, flowing signature. "Like yours. And," He leaned in on Hermione, uncomfortably close. "Insults are really not necessary, Miss Granger."
"Stuck in a dark little room with me, Riddle? Wouldn't that cramp your style?"
"As it is, I don't have one. Very few do." He said indignantly. Removing his finger from her card, he produced his own which did not posess the signature.
Hermione's eyes twinkled at this. "And it must burn you up that I'm one of them." She glanced at Tom's card and snickered.
"Your middle name is Marvolo?"
"Do you find that amusing?"
"That's why you're here isn't it? You don't have one, so you want mine." Giggle. "Marvolo."
Tom's jaw clenched, ever so slightly. "I see that I am wasting my time." He turned to leave.
Tom saw her in the back of the library. She was sitting at a table looking utterly bored. He decided that this was a opportune moment to approach her about the card, knowing full well that she wouldn't be as easy to charm as others. As he advanced on her warily, he watched as she sighed loudly and let her head fall onto the table with a loud thunk. Honestly, he had always thought the French were very stringent in the ways of ettiquette and decorum. Apparantly this one had missed the boat. Slumped in her chair, forehead kissing the tables' worn surface, and hair every which-way, she truly was a sight. It was no wonder people got out of her way.
He leaned close to her ear and whispered; "Perhaps you should should try the restricted section." in a low, sultry voice. Women seemed to like it when he spoke in this manner. Then again, women seemed to like everything he did to them.
The little imp didn't even bother to lift her head when she answered him; "No one's allowed in there." Git.
He had distinctly heard that. Normally she had practiced impeccable Occlumency against him, for he had tried to probe her mind many times. It was another reason she impressed him, few minds successfully resisted when his wanted in. It seemed that she had wanted him to hear that little barb.
"Not everyone." Tom agreed, remaining pleasant and ignoring her rudeness. Conjuring her card from a pocket in her robes seemed to be the only thing to get her attention. She grabbed for it, but he was too quick. "Only the ones with the Headmaster's signature are allowed in." He placed the card before her and pointed to the signature. "Like yours. And," He leaned in close to her, visibly making her uncomfortable. "Insults are really not necessary, Miss Granger."
"Stuck in a dark little room with me, Riddle? Wouldn't that cramp your style?" He had never had such trouble with a woman before. This was proving...dissapointing.
"As it is, I don't have one. Very few do." He replied with mock indignaty, using guilt in an attempt to salvage the conversation. He produced his own card, showing her the difference.
"And it must burn you up that I'm one of them." Upon looking at his card, she giggled. "Your middle name's Marvolo?"
"Do you find that amusing?" He had a feeling the whole thing was an exercise in futility.
"That's why you're here isn't it? You don't have one, so you want mine." She giggled again. "Marvolo." His jaw clenched in annoyance.
"I see that I am wasting my time." Turning to leave, he chastised himself for visibly showing his anger, however miniscule.
"Wait." He stopped. She got up and walked over to him. Her eyes low-lidded as she straightened his tie, which did not need straightening. What was she up to?
Her eyes assumed a blank, glassy sheen. "I'm sure we can work something out." Merlin, was she trying to seduce him? She must be joking. She, with the grossly overlarge robes and unruly hair? Even her speech was unrefined. Honestly, there had to be other means of entry to the restricted section beyond having this little waif bent over the One-Eyed Witch during the lunch hour. He wasn't above it, though. He'd done it before. But that didn't mean he looked forward to it.
Hemione felt rediculous, twirling her hair like an idiot, fumbling with the git's tie. She was sure Tom saw right through it. After the inkpot incident he had left her well enough alone, until today that is. He was obviously interested in her library card, access to the restricted section to be precise. Why? She had no idea...yet, and she'd be damned if she allowed him to use her as a means to an end.
He stood stiff and unmoving with one eyebrow raised. He towered over her and his steel-gray gaze never wavered. Hermione, seeing his silence as a victory, wracked her brain to name her terms. What does one ask of the Headboy, who was currently the most powerful student as far as privilege was concerned? It didn't matter, she didn't get time to finish her thought because Tom had without warning closed the gap between them, pinning her to the stacks.
When his lips crashed against hers, it wasn't at all gentle. It wasn't gentle or loving or affectionate in any way. It was rough and brazen the way his mouth demanded her participation. It was posessive, and for those few stolen seconds Hermione would almost have willingly believed that she was totally, completely, and unabashedly his. Tom's hands wrapped around her waist through her robes and she found her self being crushed against his very solid form. Who knew such strength lied beneath such a slender looking physique? He picked her up as if she were nothing at all and set her down so roughly onto the table, she had to break the kiss and brace herself with both hands so not to fall backward.
But he would have none of that. Tom grabbed her just under both knees and slid her across the table back towards him and engaged her yet again into another fervent, heated kiss. She wondered if he thought that she hadn't noticed that he had removed her card from the pocket in her robes and slipped it into a pocket of his own. She also wondered if he hadn't noticed that she had taken it back. Either way, she pulled away from him with a very self-satisfied look on her face as she raised her card held between her index and middle finger into his line of view. She surmised that the flicker of anger in his eyes meant that he indeed had not noticed.
"That was very nice, but if you want this," She waved the card under his nose. "It'll take more than a quick snog behind the stacks. You want this? You'll have to clear out half your crap from out of the common room. You want this? You'll have to learn how to share. Tables, chairs and," She paused, knowing it would be the biggest blow. "Bookshelves."
That did it. He did not hide it this time. Leering at her openly, he roughly threw her from him. Then he smoothed his hair and rearranged his robes. That done, he stalked away, not saying a single word.
Now it was Hermione's turn to be amused. Merlin, he ran hot and cold! She raised a hand to her heat-tinged cheek. He'd brought it on himself, the git, thinking he could just use her the way he did. Then again, recalling herself smiling and straightning his tie, she was just as guilty of manipulation as he, and -
"I'm sure we can work something out..."
Merlin! He didn't think she had lead him on did he? Reviewing the events, it was perfectly logical to assume that she had wanted him to snog her senseless!
It didn't matter though, she wasn't about to hand over her library card. Something about Tom's demeanor set alarms off in Hermione's head. Every fiber telling her not to let him have it. What was so great about the restricted section that he wanted it so bad? She only asked him to clear out of the common room because she was sure he'd never do it and hopefully, knowing her terms, he would leave her be about it. But no, she was sure that if he couldn't barter it from her then he'd find some way to steal it, which meant she had a few more books she needed to check out.
She straightened her robes and fixed her hair, grabbed her bag and slid off the table. Her knees nearly buckled and refused to hold her up. Stupid git. She thought. Why did he have to be so damn handsome?
Tom Riddle was highly irritated with himself. Bested by a silly schoolgirl. Was he going soft? No, he insisted. With schoolwork on top of his Headboy duties on top of...everything else. He was simply distracted, thats all. Tom hadn't had a decent...diversion in quite some time. 'The thrill of the hunt' he had heard it called, was a game he enjoyed. Whether it was stalking a woman or an enemy, the feeling was the same. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the challenge. Kept him sharp. He just did not like to lose. Though, if this girl had thought she'd gotten the best of him, she was mistaken. He'd get what he wanted...and perhaps a bit more. Who knew the little minx had a halfway decent form underneath all those layers? No matter, she was an obstacle to be dealt with, nothing more.
Hermione stalked back to the portrait hole exhausted. Her eyes were strained from hours of reading, but she was confidant that the enchantments she had administered would give someone a very bad day if they decided to lift something from her person.
When she reached Sir Cadagon, he was sitting against his tree, draining another bottle of wine and singing loudly and badly. The other surrounding portraits had their hands to their ears, glaring daggers at him.
"Iwana cauldron of HOT STRONG LOVE! hic! Keep me hic! warm hic! TONIGHT!" Hermione sighed in frustration.
"My, Sir Cadagon," She said flatly. "How brightly your armor glints in the torchlight. Have you had it shined?"
Cadagon stopped singing, he blinked for a while, looked around and appeared stunned to see Hermione.
"Ah!, My Lady!," His visor crashed down again.
"No doubt he's changed the password again. What is it this time? 'A quick snog behind the stacks?" Or maybe.. 'Making out with 'Mione on a monday morning?' Or if he really wanted to be snarky -"
"Inkpot, Sir Cadagon." Came a voice directly behind her. The portrait swung open.
Hermione gaped. "I...You...Really ought to stop sneeking up on people!"
"Whatever do you mean, Miss Granger?" Tom smirked, then nodded to the door. "Ladies first."
He wasn't the kind of person one felt comfortable turning their back on. Hermione whirled around haughtily, but hurried ahead of him. She reached the middle of the common room before she stopped dead in her tracks by what she saw. All of Tom's things, all of the books and parchment and quills and ink that had been neatly littered on the tables, and the bookshelf had been reduced...by half.
Two words rang throughout her mind.
"Uh Oh..."
And Tom heard it.
OkAy! A little tension there! Had a bit of trouble writing this one, wanted to heat it up a bit, but still keep them into character and true to the plot I've layed out. I also wanted both character's thoughts and feelings on that one conversation. It was not a copy-and-paste error. Read and Review People! TTFN!
