A/N: one of my favourite couples for Hermione and it's just a quick oneshot to get my thoughts off my head. Might make another part. Thank you for reading.
DISCLAIMER: characters you recognise are not mine, as this is a fanfiction story of Harry Potter and is owned by JK Rowling. The plot is mine, however, and if you do recognise the plot, I have not copied it and I am sorry if it looks like it. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED.
Hearing a sniffle from the direction of the stairs, I head over there hoping to cultivate another precious follower. When I get there, I see bushy hair. A disgusted expression passes my face before I can help it at the sight of Granger and I'm just about to leave her there crying when a mirthless, self-deprecating chuckle escapes her lips. It's so unlike anything I've ever heard from her, her with her warm smiles and carrying laughter that everyone can hear from across the hall, that I go closer to see her face. Of course, she sees me and she abruptly stands up, wiping her face of the running tears. It's no use.
I can still see the tear stains marking their way down her rosy cheeks and wide, innocent brown eyes. Brown eyes the colour of mud - like her blood - but also the colour of chocolate and honey and gold all mixed in one and I realise they're not the colour of mud, not really. Even at their darkest, they're the colour of earth, the earth that we stand upon and the earth that holds us up above the suffocating water. I wonder if I've ever thought this intensely about any other girl with brown eyes and come to a decision that I haven't because I don't make it a habit to look at mudbloods with brown eyes. This snaps me out of my trance and so does her voice.
"Sorry, Riddle. I didn't realise I was intruding upon your personal space. I'll be leaving now."
Her voice is harsh and throaty from crying but it still has a hint of the sweet tone she uses when talking to her companions and when she's not using the swotty tone in classrooms or the scathing tone for those she doesn't like.
"NO!" I say and I see Granger raising one eyebrow at me.
"I mean, umm, you can stay."
She clearly doesn't need much persuasion because she drops straight down on the marble stairs, without a thought for the pain. I wince and lower myself down too, concluding that I am bored and have nothing better to do.
"So what's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"It's nothing, really. Apart from the fact that I have stupid friends. Read: Ron."
"They don't deserve you then."
Granger throws her head back and lets out a loud, genuine laugh, reminiscent of the ones in the Great Hall and I look at her face.
She's beautiful. I resolve to make her cry more often. Or laugh. Either one, really.
"You're hilarious, Riddle. I'm gonna leave now."
"Not yet, please. Would you like to go to the kitchens? Get something to eat?"
I stand up and offer my arm to her, willing her to take it.
"Why are you being nice to me, Riddle?"
She still stands up; she doesn't take my proffered arm. I drop it and start walking towards the Hufflepuff common room.
"I don't know. I don't suppose you'd want to go back to the common rooms, though."
She doesn't say anything for a heartbeat. Or two because, for some reason, my heart is beating really fast. Three, maybe.
"I'm a Gryffindor and a Mudblood."
"Yes, true. Although, you shouldn't say the word so freely. You may be immune to it but I'm sure there's first-year muggleborns who don't know you're also one and they might be hurt, you know?"
She shifts guiltily and I smile.
"You're right, I guess. I never thought of it like that. So you don't mind, then? The muggleborn and the House thing?"
"Leave that to the bigoted Slytherins. My father was a Muggle, you know?"
And then I stand shocked as I don't think I've ever freely told anyone that. Granger doesn't notice my stiffness.
"You don't say anything. I mean, when Malfoy and co. make fun of us or whatever else they assume may hurt us."
"I said I don't believe in all those things. I didn't say I was trying to get myself killed."
She starts laughing and then stops. I nearly curse at my misfortune.
"That wasn't a joke. You meant that?"
She looks horrified.
"Not quite murder but nearly. By all means, take it as a joke, though."
"What do you mean, 'take it as a joke'?"
"Nothing. Look, we're here."
I tickle the pear and lead her inside.
"Hello Master Tom and Miss Hermione. What can we do for you?"
"They know your name?"
"They know yours?"
Instinctively, both of us agree to not reply to each other and proceed to give the elves our orders.
"Riddle? Are you okay?"
"What do you want?"
I sigh at her affronted expression.
"Yes, I'm fine. Sorry for snapping."
"You don't look fine."
"Sorry about that then."
"You don't have to apologise. Do you want to go to the kitchens?"
"I don't really feel like eating right now."
"Of course not. Can I sit?"
She points to my table which is filled with papers and books. They're charmed to not look like the unsavoury pieces I normally write and read. I give her a nod and she casts a finite on my books. She raises her eyebrows but doesn't say anything. I hadn't done anything, knowing I could have obliviated her if worst came to worst. I relax minimally but she notices; she knows my little signals. She sits, ordering my books into neat piles, based on their subject and reads through my notes. Out of nowhere, she takes out an eagle quill, dips it into my ink and starts making changes to the piece of paper.
"Granger. What are you doing?"
"This part is wrong. You clearly haven't looked at the correct sources. You're too focused on all the dark books for your topic and haven't taken into account the simpler books. We looked at this content for the Transfiguration essay we did in fourth year."
She doesn't mention the actual topic and I don't either, knowing she'll probably get offended or stingy or something along those lines. I just catch onto one part of her explanation.
"There is no light or dark. There's only power and knowledge - "
"- and those too weak to seek it. Yes, Tom. You gave me your illustrious speech a long time ago. Right now, however, it is what they are termed in Wizarding Britain and if you don't like it, change it."
"You know I'm planning to, Hermione. You also know I want you by my side when I take over the world."
"Careful, Riddle."
We don't talk for the rest of the evening until we have to leave for our Prefect duties. She's corrected and added insight into all of my papers. I've read books she gave to me that her Slytherin pureblood boyfriend found for her in his family library. I don't say anything about their secret relationship. She pretends that she doesn't know I would rather be with her instead.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
Herm- Granger lightly giggles.
"Those are the two questions you asked me that time we first talked on the staircase. Remember when we went to the ki-"
"Yes. I remember."
A slight smile graces her pretty pink lips. We stay silent for a bit.
"What is wrong then?"
"Nothing, really. It's just. We both knew that this thing wouldn't last so I don't even know why I'm so upset about it. I even initiated it myself, the breakup. I didn't want to be a mistress or something when they get married. I'm happy for him, I really am. I'm just a mudblood anyway. Nothing compared to the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood she is."
"Don't use that word when you're talking about yourself. You're worth more than just a word. You're prettier, smarter, better than her."
I tuck her thick, curly hair behind her blushing hair and gently caress her rosy cheeks. She leans forward and rests her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her slim waist. She curls up in my embrace and hugs me tightly.
"I'm travelling after graduation. Come with me."
"Where are you going?"
She doesn't deny coming and my heart lifts. If she was going to, she would've done it first.
"Magical ruins, libraries, the Riddle manor. Some of the other boys might come."
I see her hesitating slightly.
"I'm giving you dull discretion lest they do anything to you. Not that they would ever dare."
Neither of us mention how they don't bully her anymore. Not since fifth year. She relaxes in my arms.
"I'll see what other options I have."
We both know she's lying. She hasn't applied anywhere and she's not stupid to think she'd get a position anywhere high in the ministry. A girl and a muggleborn.
"I promise, sweetheart, that they'll beg before your feet for their wrongs against you when the world is mine."
She closes her eyes.
"Don't call me sweetheart, Tom. I'm not one of those girls you bed."
No, she's not. She's more. So much more. I don't say anything. I just hold her closer on our staircase.
"Tom! One was enough but you've made three? You know you're cutting up your soul, Tom. Please stop. Please?"
"I'm sorry, darling. I'll stop. I promise."
"Tom-"
"I don't bed any girls, Granger. You're not one of those girls because there aren't any, okay? There hasn't been any since we were 16. I haven't even- I mean- I'm still a-"
Heaving a sigh, I stop talking. She knows what I was about to say but she doesn't make me confirm it. She doesn't pressure me but she doesn't initiate it. Doesn't start anything.
"Tom, I-"
"Leave it, Granger."
I notice the deflation of her shoulders before I turn around and leave her.
"Dinner's at 5 today. We have an early start tomorrow. Inform everyone else."
I can almost sense the anger building up in her at being used as a messenger; I can hear the magic streaking through her hair; I can feel her powerful aura getting darker. In the next second, however, she consents and I turn around in hidden surprise. She curtsies, dropping lower in height than she already is, and walks away with her head bent in submission. Instantly feeling guilty, I think about how she only acts like that when we have a pureblood lord over, how Malfoy taught her to act. All other times, she's a zealous, passionate mistress, one who rules over the mansion as my equal. I head to the library, intending to read over my perfect notes in preparation of tomorrow and shove thoughts of her and her hair and eyes and lips to the back of my mind.
An orange light surrounded by dark mist races towards her and time freezes. She's gone by the time everything starts to move again and so is the caster of the spell. I roar in frustration. My Knights and I run an extensive search over the world trying to find her. It's only after I feel the destruction of one of my three horcruxes that we get back to work ruling the world. For a long time, no one in the house is in a good mood. The Knights were just as devoted to their Lady Hermione as me. Lady Hermione to my Lord Voldemort.