Chapter 38 – New Roles

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I reap financial gains from this work.

Hermione woke up to the smell of coffee. She stretched, thinking that she hadn't slept so well in months. She opened her eyes and looked around, taking in the sight of the second indentation in the pillow and recalling the previous day and night. She glanced over at the clock. It was already ten o'clock. She smiled somewhat sappily before getting out of bed and pulling on her robe.

"I thought you didn't know how to cook," she said good-naturedly when she saw Tom standing over the stove, a pot of coffee already sitting on the counter.

"I am capable of frying eggs," he assured her, his intent expression fading for a second when he looked up at her.

Hermione couldn't remember ever having a boyfriend cook her breakfast. Ron hadn't, though he had never stayed over either. But Hermione was sure that even if he had, he would never have bothered to do something so thoughtful.

"I'll help," she offered, walking over to the cupboard she had cast Freezing Charms on and pulling out sausage.

Half an hour later as they sat down for breakfast, Hermione was struck by just how normal it all seemed. Going to sleep with him next to her, waking up with his heat still engulfing her, and eating breakfast across from him before going about the business of the day felt right, for lack of a better word. Hermione was too logical to give credence to the idea that everything would be perfect when, or if, they lived together, but she had to admit that it felt like it might be.

Tom was susceptible to the same awareness. While they had eaten breakfast together a majority of the days since they began working at the Ministry, it was something completely different to wake up to someone in a place that felt like home. The closest Tom had ever had to a home was Hogwarts. He had to admit that Hermione's ability to so mould his feelings bothered him more than a little. However, he was at a loss as to what he ought to do about it. He couldn't sanction cutting himself off from her. "It would be like trying to excise a cancer that had attacked his brain, heart, and testicles simultaneously," Tom thought crudely. They were all parts of his anatomy that he was not eager to have someone hacking around, even with a metaphorical knife.

Breakfast with Hermione that Saturday morning caused Tom to admit something he had been trying to avoid recognising for weeks: he was stuck with Hermione. Worse, he was stuck not unhappily with Hermione. There was nothing he could or would do about it. He was like a man addicted to opium, all too happy to continue on toward his ultimate destruction as long as he kept getting more.

But Tom, though he may have accepted his situation with Hermione, was still not willing to accept that his long dreamt of plans might need to be curtailed. Loving Hermione, which he still was not comfortable admitting to himself, was not equivalent to becoming a Hufflepuff. If anything, it required him to cultivate even greater cunning. Tom was sure that he had not imagined the relief on Hermione's face when he said that he was probably finished with the Deathly Hallows and portal. She was still afraid of his ambition and lust for power. Since tossing her aside was an unpalatable solution, Tom would have to work around her. And what better way to know and allay her deepest suspicions and fears than to be with her almost constantly?

"Did you have plans for today?" Tom asked while they Scourgio-ed the dishes and put them away.

"No, I thought I might catch up on some paperwork and cleaning here," Hermione said. "You can stay if you want," she added hopefully.

"I have a few errands," Tom declined. "But I want to take you out to dinner tonight," he said.

"Where?"

"It's a secret," Tom said, smirking at her slightly rebellious expression. "Dress nicely. I'll be wearing dress robes. I'll pick you up at seven." As Hermione opened her mouth to protest, Tom took the plate from her hand, set it next to the sink and kissed her soundly. A few minutes later, Tom pulled back and smiled down into her dazed eyes. "Good bye," he said, pecking her on the lips once more before Apparating away to his own flat.

Tom actually only had one thing to do and he had only decided to do it minutes earlier. He picked up his wages from the past week and walked down the stairs to Diagon Alley. An hour later, his purchase was finalised and he returned to his flat to research the spells he needed for his plan. It wouldn't do to make a mistake on such an auspicious occasion.

Hermione stood in the middle of the room, thoroughly baffled by Tom's behaviour. He hadn't seemed secretive, but neither had he told her what he was doing. She gathered that it was a surprise of some sort, but it had seemed so spur of the moment. She sighed, then smiled and went over to her closet to try to find something to wear.

At seven, Tom knocked on Hermione's door. He was wearing his dress robes as he had told Hermione, but had worn a black bow tie instead or a cravat. Hermione opened the door, purse and wrap in hand. Tom had to force himself to look at her face. The cut of the deep crimson dress set off her shape to perfection. Though not deep, the wide V-neck of her dress left her shoulders mostly bare. The dress fit tightly almost to her hips, where the skirt flared out until it ended just below her knees.

"You look beautiful," he said finally, pulling his eyes back to her own laughing ones.

"You look very handsome, too," she grinned, reaching out to straighten his tie. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"It's still a surprise," Tom rejoined. "I'm going to Apparate us now," he warned her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She quickly grasped his shoulders when she felt the sensation begin. They appeared inside the lobby of an elegant restaurant.

"Mr. Tom Riddle?" the maître d' asked, smiling politely.

"I am Thomas Riddle," Tom answered.

"This way, please." He led them to a table in a secluded corner of the restaurant. It was lit by a softly glowing will 'o the wisp that floated above the pristine linen tablecloth.

Tom had had to lay out five Galleons to get a reservation on such short notice and another five to get a private table. He was thoroughly pleased by the outcome of his bribery. He pulled out Hermione's chair, then seated himself across from her. Their waiter soon arrived and gave them menus and the wine list, informing them that they served only the best French vintages and making his recommendations.

The food was exquisite. Hermione thought that she had possibly never had better French food, even when she had dined at fine restaurants in Paris with her parents during summer break.

Tom was less poetic in his thoughts. He enjoyed the food but was inordinately nervous.

Finally, the waiter took away their dishes. Tom reached across the table and clasped her hand. He nervously cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Hermione, I've known you less than a year, yet you have come to mean more to me than anyone else. I never expected to feel this way about you, let alone come to love you. At first, you were just a challenge, someone who knew unexpected things about my life. Then you became someone whom I could call a friend. You already knew the worst of me and were still willing to give me a chance. Now, you are my girlfriend, something I never planned to bother with," he said self-deprecatingly. He locked eyes with her as he stood from his chair.

"I no longer want you to be my girlfriend," he continued, stepping toward her. Hermione gasped, confused for a moment. Her eyes filled with tears, first of horror, but then of anticipation.

He knelt. "When I think of you, you are no longer just my girlfriend. I dream of waking to your face every morning for the rest of my life, of coming home to you every evening. I cannot even imagine my life without you in it. Hermione Jane Granger, if you were no longer my girlfriend, I would be the happiest man on earth.

"Will you marry me?"

Hermione sat motionlessly for a second. Tom felt anxiety creep upon him, but it was soon relieved.

"Yes!" Hermione catapulted from her chair, sinking to her knees in from of him and wrapping her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly before moving back and kissing him in front of the waiter, who had just come to inquire about their dessert preferences. The waiter wisely decided to come back later and to perhaps bring a bottle of champagne. Based on the money Mr. Riddle had spent to get the reservation, he hoped for an accordingly large tip.

Tom raised Hermione from her knees and helped her back into her chair. He pulled out his wand and a small velvet bag, took her right hand, and removed the ring from it, setting it on the table. He upended the bag, causing a marquis-cut diamond to fall onto the table. With a few murmured spells, the ring morphed, setting the diamond in the centre, bordered by three alexandrite stones on either side, with the knot design coalescing to form a solid band beyond the alexandrite. Tom grasped her left hand and slid the ring onto her fourth finger. Hermione beamed across the table at him.

"It's beautiful," Hermione said.

The waiter returned, champagne in hand. "Compliments of the management, sir," he said.

"Thank you," Tom replied. "We will take it with us, please. I would like to settle the bill now."

"Very well, sir." The waiter returned with their bill moments later. Tom left a generous tip, grateful for the waiter's discretion.*

Tom collected their champagne and escorted Hermione out of the restaurant. The sun had set; only the faintest glimmer of light was visible above the horizon.

They walked along the lane in companionable silence, arms entwined. Surprisingly, it was Hermione who broke the quiet.

"Tom, do you have any idea when you would like to get married?" she asked slightly nervously.

"I hadn't really thought beyond the proposal," he admitted with a smile. "It seemed premature to start asking you about wedding dates. Do you have a preference?"

"Maybe September? I don't want to wait too long. We both know how uncertain life can be, and neither of us have particularly safe jobs," she reasoned.

"September, a year since we first met," Tom reminisced. "I would never have guessed that I would end up engaged to that irritating girl who appeared in the library." Hermione blushed. "September is fine with me," he agreed. "If you think you can organize everything," he added.

"I don't want a wedding like Louisa's," Hermione reassured him. "I would like a small wedding, just us and a few of our closest friends. But we don't have to decide everything tonight," she laughed.

"May I escort you home, milady?" Tom asked gallantly.

"You may, kind sir," Hermione replied archly, placing her hand through the crook of his elbow. Tom Apparated them away to his flat.

"Would you like some champagne?" he asked, conjuring two crystal glasses.

"Only a little," Hermione said. "You remember how well I hold my alcohol."

Lacking a comfortable couch, the couple ended up sharing the chair Tom had modelled after the one in the Heads' common room. Hermione was perched sideways across his lap, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other holding her glass. When their glasses were empty, Tom Vanished them and took advantage of the lack of breakable objects in the vicinity, kissing Hermione passionately. When they pulled apart, Hermione's position had shifted. She found herself straddling Tom's legs, both arms wrapped tightly around his neck, with the fingers of one hand curled through his hair. To prevent her from slipping off the chair, Tom had put his arms around her waist, but one hand had slipped somewhat lower to rest on her hip, bunching her skirt.

Hermione flushed when she realised the alignment of their bodies. To Tom's disappointment, she slowly disentangled herself and stood from the chair, attempting to put her clothes and hair to right.

"I had better go home," she said regretfully.

"You can stay here," Tom offered, though with admittedly selfish motives. "I find myself reluctant to let you leave so soon.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Hermione said doubtfully.

"Just to sleep," Tom cajoled. "You can trust me. I won't do anything you disapprove of."

"That's the problem," she laughed. "I'm not sure I'll be able to maintain my disapproval."

"Then I will protect your virtue for you," he promised, smiling.

"Fine, but I need to go home to get a few things," Hermione finally agreed.

For the second night in a row, Tom fell asleep with Hermione in his arms, though this time, she was there as his fiancée. He looked forward to the time when she would truly be his.

The next day, Hermione Owled Louisa and Minerva, excited to share her news with them. Tom was somewhat displeased when she left him right after breakfast, but after a rather intense good-bye kiss, he resigned himself to losing her company for the day.

Hermione met her friends at a cafe on Diagon Alley at eleven o'clock. They were both curious as to what prompted her to want to see them on such short notice. Hermione folded her hands on top of the table and waited. Not surprisingly, Louisa noticed first.

"Hermione, what's that on your finger?" she squealed, grabbing Hermione's hand for a closer look.

"Last I checked, it was a ring," Hermione retorted good-humouredly.

"You're engaged?" Minerva asked, utterly shocked.

"Yes! He just asked me last night!" Hermione replied effervescently.

"Have you decided when you're getting married or what kind of bonding ceremony you want to have?" Louisa asked.

"Sometime in September. There are different kinds of ceremonies?" she asked.

"I forgot that you're Muggleborn," Louisa apologised. "There are at least five different types of bonding ceremonies."

"They all have different strength," Minerva explained. "The weakest one is just like a Muggle ceremony. You sign a piece of paper in front of witnesses and you're married. Some of the older, rarer bonds are extremely complicated forms of magic. They can prevent adultery, divorce, remarriage, and even survival after the death of one's spouse. Barely anyone uses that one anymore, though," she added. "I doubt even the Malfoys use it."

"Maybe I should find a book on this," Hermione commented nervously.

"That would probably be a good idea," Louisa agreed. "I used the same bonding ceremony as my parents, but since you don't have any family traditions, you should choose exactly what you want." Minerva nodded in agreement.

They chatted a quarter of an hour longer, Louisa expounding on the wonders of married life. Minerva was uncharacteristically quiet. After Louisa left, Hermione turned to her.

"Are you alright?" she asked Minerva.

"I'm fine," she sighed. "No, I'm not fine. Philippe and I had a rather dreadful quarrel on Friday."

"About what?"

"Well, I was trying to tell him to stop kissing me in public."

Hermione's face became apprehensive. "What did you say exactly?"

"I think I might have said that I didn't appreciate him acting like a cave man in public and making me look ridiculous."

"That can't have made him feel very good."

"Well, it doesn't make me feel good to have all my colleagues laughing at me, either!" Minerva responded heatedly.

"What did he say?"

"He apologized for acting like a boyfriend instead of a study partner. The nerve of him! Tom doesn't act like that with you!"

"Well, he did at the club," Hermione reminded her friend.

Minerva ignored her. "Then he said that if I didn't want him around, he had plenty of offers back in France. He actually threatened to leave!"

"Look at it from his perspective," Hermione said, attempting to calm the angry witch.

"What do you mean?"

"You made it sound like you are ashamed of him. You can't be surprised that he became upset."

"I'm not ashamed of him! I like it when he acts like a boyfriend; it's just embarrassing when he makes a scene at the Ministry!"

"Then maybe you had better try to explain that to him. Tom and I aren't the most demonstrative couple, but it seems like Philippe is just trying to show you he cares about you.

"You might start by telling him you don't want him to leave, though you better have some good reasons, if he was as upset as you make him sound," Hermione continued.

Minerva sighed. "I suppose today is as good a day as any," she said, standing. "I might not have a chance to see him during the week. Congratulations on your engagement," she added, attempting a smile.

"Thanks, Minerva," Hermione smiled in response. After Minerva Apparated away, Hermione shook her head. She, of all people, was giving out relationship advice!

Hermione went straight to Flourish and Blott's to search for a book on bonding ceremonies. She browsed the shelves for twenty minutes without success. She finally asked the wizard at the counter.

"I'm sorry, we only have The Modern Witch's Wedding in stock. It only covers the three most common ceremonies and doesn't describe the magic involved in any depth. We could try to order something for you, but you might be better off trying the used bookshop down the street."

Hermione was far from thrilled at being recommended to the shop of the man who had caused her so much trouble. But she was prepared this time, she reasoned. Hand on her wand, she cautiously entered the dingy store.

"Hello, how may I be of service to you today?" the proprietor asked politely. His face showed no sign of recognition.

"Do you have any books on bonding ceremonies?"

"What kind of bonding ceremonies? I have books on adoption bonds, wedding bonds, familiar bonds, blood bonds, oaths..."

"Marriage ceremonies," Hermione said shortly, still watching him closely as he began rummaging through piles of books.

A few minutes later, he had collected several books, which he set in front of her on the counter.

"If you want a historical perspective, you might like Marriage Through the Ages. Theoretical Considerations of Marriage Bonds gives you more of a background on the magic involved in the ceremonies. But A Compilation of Bonds for Wedding is probably the most practical if you are trying to decide on one to use. You can always refer to the other books for more information on a specific bond."

Hermione deliberated for a few minutes, leafing through the books.

"How much are they?"

"I'll sell you all three for one Galleon, seven Sickles."

"I'll take them," Hermione decided, placing the coins on the counter.

"Excellent. Please feel free to come back if you have any questions," the old shopkeeper said, handing her the paper sack holding her purchases.

Hermione thought it very strange that the old man hadn't shown any sign of remembering her. It was almost as though he had been Obliviated. She stopped suddenly, causing another shopper to almost crash into her.

Hermione made a face. Of course, Tom would have Obliviated the man. He probably just hadn't told her because of all the other things that had happened around the same time.

AN: In case I don't get any more chapters done this week, Merry Christmas! I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations! I bet you didn't see that coming, at least, I hope you didn't. Please review, think of it as a Christmas gift to me.