Hermione started each day with the sun.
She got up, got ready, and was often in the Great Hall for breakfast long before the food was even set to appear on the tables. This habit was part of the reason why she had made no friends among her own house. If she were being honest, then being acquaintances with Tom Riddle had set her apart in a way that was neither bad nor good – she had become near unapproachable.
While the lack of friendship made her lonely, Hermione spent each day looking forward to several bright spots. The first of which walked into breakfast as she contemplated her selection that morning...
Tom Riddle, a boy set in his own ways, sat at the same spot each morning. He usually ate the same breakfast foods. He was never less than immaculately dressed and always looked well-rested; however, it was his newest habit that delighted Hermione.
Every morning, Tom would scan the length of the Gryffindor table until he spotted her, give her an assessing once-over and, at the end, their eyes would meet and she would offer a friendly smile.
Tom never smiled back. Not that it mattered. Hermione knew just by virtue of his glances that she had become something to him... and for now she was fine being something to someone. It was better than being nothing to everyone.