Tom spent every waking moment with Hermione, dedicating time to his studies, researching parallel universes in the library, and learning about the circle that he ran with. He was initially uncomfortable with the level of affection shared between himself and Other-Tom's witch, but she made it clear that it was non-negotiable.
"We've been together since fourth year, Other-Tom," Hermione explained patiently the first time he pulled his hand out of her remarkably soft and small hand in surprise. She gently took his hand into hers again and threaded their fingers together. "It'd look odd if we stopped acting like a couple unless we break up, but that means you might be discovered much more quickly. I don't want the Ministry to know about you, and we don't want unnecessary attention to unearth the darker things my Tom and I have done."
He greeted her with a chaste kiss on her cheek each time they crossed paths and learned that Other-Tom carried her books to the many classes they took together. Tom watched in amusement as she eagerly raised her hand in each class to answer questions posed by their professors, earning points for her house of Gryffindor.
The butterflies that fluttered in his stomach three weeks in were largely ignored, and he absolutely did not fall asleep thinking of her kisses at all.
Tom wasn't quite sure what to make of this universe that he currently resided in and the life that Other-Tom lived.
Five weeks in, Hermione showed up in his room while he was getting ready for bed.
"I thought you retired to bed an hour ago?" He asked.
She shifted nervously as she looked at him. "I'm not quite used to sleeping alone. Madam Pomfrey refuses to give me any more sleeping potions, and I don't have the ingredients to brew it yet," she stated quietly. "I - I know that you're not my Tom, but do you mind if I stay with you tonight? There's just that quiz tomorrow -"
He stopped her, hating instantly the shy manner in which she was conducting herself. The Hermione Granger that he came to know was confident and a force to be reckoned with. "Come on, Hermione. Don't worry about it."
Hermione flashed him a smile, and he felt his heart rate speed up as she came over and settled in his bed. "Thank you. Goodnight...Tom."
Tom slid in beside her, ignoring the heat that radiated from her. "Goodnight, Hermione," he responded.
Falling asleep proved to be very difficult for him that night, and it wasn't until the early hours of the morning that he finally fell asleep. Tom woke up alone, but he dreamt of holding Hermione in his arms while he slept. The phantom feel of her in his arms felt much more real than he dared to admit.
"I wonder if anyone else has noticed the differences between you and my Tom," she remarked one day. He arched an eyebrow at her as she continued. "The both of you have a dark streak, except my Tom tried to hide it as best as he could. I think it has to do with the Potters adopting my Tom when he was 9. He tries so hard to fit into that family and to earn their love. They give it to him unconditionally, but he still worries that one day, they'll wake up and change their mind."
She reached a hand up to cup his cheek. Tom covered hers with his own and leaned into her warmth.
"You, on the other hand," Hermione continued, "don't care as much about what people see. You're much surer of yourself. It might be that you're technically older, but the laissez-faire attitude lends you an even darker aura. Both of you are dark, but he was much more cautious about showing it. However, the two of you know how to work people and make them fall for you."
Tom gave her a small smile at that. Hermione stared at him for a second before she jerked her hand away, as if realizing what she'd done. Her face flushed brightly, and she took a step back. "I'm - I'm so sorry, Tom, I wasn't thinking and I - "
"It's okay," he consoled her. He didn't mind the affection at all, didn't mind that she was seeing him rather than Other-Tom. "It doesn't bother me."
Tom was a liar.
She came home from a celebratory Quidditch party in the Gryffindor Common Rooms drunk while he stayed in theirs to continue their research.
Hermione stared at him from the entrance of their Common Room before she made her way over to him, standing before his seated figure. Without saying anything, her bottom lip started to tremble, and her eyes pooled with tears. Tom looked on in alarm before he pulled Hermione into his lap and held her close to him. She looped her arms around his neck and placed her face against his shoulder.
"What's wrong?" He asked her, running his hand down her back.
"What if my Tom never comes back to me?" She hiccuped in despair. "What if he's stuck in some limbo or your world all alone?"
"We'll figure it out, Hermione," he reassured her.
"I feel like I'm betraying him!" She cried, reeling back and looking at Tom. Her beautiful eyes were puffy and swollen. "I'm here, holding your hand and kissing you for the masses while he's, Merlin knows where! Did I make the right decision in making you pretend that you're my Tom? I just - I don't know."
"Well," Tom began. "Seeing as I'm basically him, I will tell you that I wouldn't mind if it was the other way around."
Hermione gave a mirthless laugh. "When did you become such a shite liar? You and I both know that no matter which world Tom Riddle comes from, that he does not like sharing anything that is considered his."
Tom had nothing to say in response because he knew that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn't want to share anyone as special as Hermione with anyone else. He also knew that he'd tear through space and time to be by her side.
"I love you," he murmured to her quietly, when it was just the two of them in the library during the Easter break. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned to him. He watched in silence as her face grew pale.
There were a few moments of tense silence as she stared at him before she clenched her jaw and rolled her shoulders back.
"No," she stated firmly. "You cannot. I'm not yours to love, Other-Tom."
Tom paid no mind to the sharp pain in his chest at her words. She hadn't called him Other-Tom in months. Instead, he gave her a brief nod and returned to their useless research as if he had not said a thing.
Tom awoke with a start. As quickly as he opened his eyes, he snapped them shut just as fast. He was a bright, white room that seemed to stretch on for miles. He was sitting in a chair and was bound to it by unseen chains, restraining him at his wrists and ankles.
"There's no use," someone stated matter-of-factly. Tom physically recoiled when he opened his eyes and saw three old women without their eyes looking toward him. "There is no escaping until we release you, Tom Marvolo Riddle."
"Who are you?" He demanded, squinting his eyes.
"We are the Fates," they answered together. "We noticed an imbalance in the cosmos and came to investigate which led us to you."
The one on the left approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You," she rasped, pulling him by his chin and peering at him, "who does not belong."
"Yes," another agreed as she stroked her chin. "He does not. He must be placed back in his world soon."
"No, please," Tom begged, the word foreign on his lips. He pulled his chin from the hag's grasp and swallowed. "I want to stay," he stated more firmly. "I love her. I can't -"
"No," the third said softly, interrupting him. "You do not belong in this world, and therefore you must be returned to your own. We will not and cannot have you stay here any longer. Your presence threatens the cosmos."
"We have decided," the three of them said in unison, their voices blurring together. "You shall be returned to your world immediately and when you awaken, your memories of your time in this universe will feel like a dream."
"No! Please! Please, please, please!" he implored again. "I'll do anything, just don't take me away from her."
Tom Riddle was not a man who begged, and he hoped that the one time that he did, it would work.
However, the Fates did not respond. They simply approached him as Tom struggled against the invisible bonds. He was desperate, and he was angry, and he wanted nothing more than to stay.
I love you, Hermione Granger, and I will find you in my own world, he vowed to himself
The Fates touched his forehead, and there was nothing but darkness and heartache.
Tom was having weird dreams as of late.
In these dreams, he was in love with a witch who was clever, spirited, and a pain in his arse. She was loyal, and she loved him for who he was without any reservations. She argued with him about everything and forced him to reconsider the ways in which he viewed the world.
He hated these dreams, and no matter what he did, he dreamt of her and her brown eyes each and every night.
What he hated the most was how he woke up every morning missing someone that he never even met and was certain couldn't exist.
Tom no longer wanted to create seven Horcruxes. He had two, and that was more than enough. Something about making more didn't sit right with him. It felt reckless.
Tom was closing up Borgin & Burkes to head to Hepzibah Smith's home when the front door opened, prompting the bell to ring.
"I'm sorry, I'm afraid that we are closed," he said without looking up.
"I apologize, Mister . . ."
Tom looked up and froze. It was the witch from his dreams. She stood in the doorway, wearing a velvety, forest green cloak. Her brown eyes were wide, and her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink from the chill outside.
His heart began to thrum a little bit faster.
Tom cleared his throat and put down his briefcase. "Tom Riddle," he supplied. She flashed him a bright smile and something familiar shifted in him.
"Hello, Mr. Riddle," she greeted. "My name is Hermione Granger. This might sound odd, but you've been appearing in my dreams, and I would really like to get to the bottom of this."
He cocked his head to the side and slowly approached her until they were a hairsbreadth apart. He clenched his fists to prevent himself from touching her, but she reached up and placed her hand against his cheek.
"How funny," he murmured, leaning into her touch. "Me too."
fin.