EIGHT
Saturday, 10 October 2020
At the sound of Harry's voice from the other side of her door, Hermione pulled the covers over her head to hide.
"Oh no you don't," Harry mumbled, the thud of his boots across her floor louder than usual.
"I don't want to go," she said from beneath the covers, struggling to hold them in place as Harry started trying to yank them back.
"Come on, Mione. It's Hogsmeade!" he argued, his smile victorious as he ripped the covers from her grasp. Not even the murderous scowl she hurled his way seemed to have the normal affect on him. He didn't bow down in the slightest. To her chagrin, he even toed off his shoes and hopped into bed with her. "I'm sure a Butterbeer or two will chase away whatever funk's got ahold of you."
She rolled her eyes and then turned over on her side, presenting her back to him. "Or…" she started. "You could just leave me here and go about your own bloody day."
He sighed and she felt him shift behind her, making the bed creak. A moment later, he was there, curled up at her back, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Listen, I didn't want to do this, but if you don't get up for me, I'm sending Ginny in."
Hermione drew a deep breath and held it for a minute before letting out a groan of aggravation. "Fine," she snapped, wrenching herself away from him so she could get out of bed. "Get out so I can change."
He slid off the bed and held his hands up in mock surrender, his emerald eyes blazing with triumph. "Ten minutes or-"
"Yes, yes," she muttered, shooing at him. "I heard you the first time."
While it wouldn't take her a full ten minutes to get dressed, she intended to use every second of it to enjoy the solace that was her quarters. In fact, it only took two to get a fresh change of clothes from her wardrobe and use a cleansing spell on her body. She had showered the previous morning and had no inclination to deal with her hair again so soon. Even with magic it was too much of a hassle at times.
By the time she was completely ready to go, she had five minutes to spare.
Even though she had every intention of waiting until the last second to join Harry, she knew if she spent any more time in her room, she would change her mind and lock herself in. And despite what everyone thought, she actually did want to get out. Hogsmeade was one of her favorite places and she would have been even more beside herself if she hadn't gone today.
But as she got to her door, she paused to listen at the conversation taking place on the other side.
"Any idea what's gotten into her?" Harry asked.
"Not a clue," came Draco's voice. "I remember we had a row after we left your party, but she was fine the next few days."
"You sure you didn't say something to set her off again?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at the same time Draco scoffed. "Almost anything I say sets her off, Potter," he mumbled and then she heard him sigh. "But whatever brought about her mood happened Wednesday."
"What happened Wednesday?"
She couldn't help but picture the enchanted message that had shown up at her feet during dinner. She had felt something slither over her shoes and then wind itself around her ankles. When she had looked down, she saw a piece of parchment turned into a snake. She'd picked it up, already knowing who it was from, and opened it to find words that made her heart sink into her stomach.
Miss Granger,
Something has come up this evening and my attention is needed elsewhere. Our tutoring will resume next week.
T.R.
She had figured it was coming since he had absolutely refused to look at her in class on Tuesday. Or whenever they were in the same room in general. Ever since the previous Saturday night when he'd helped her get Draco back here and then stayed for a brief conversation. One where he'd openly admitted he regretted kissing her.
Shaking it off, she pushed the door open and glared at the two boys standing in the center of the common area. "So nice of you to grace us with your presence," Draco teased.
Hermione ignored him as she looked at Harry. "Happy?"
"Absolutely," he replied with a grin, making her roll her eyes and bite back a smile. "Let's go then. Come on Malfoy, you too."
"Great," they both muttered under their breath, exchanging a small smirk before following Harry out of their dorm and out to Hogsmeade for the day.
Between the slight warmth of the sun, the fresh air, and the rounds of laughter brought on by her friends, Hermione barely even needed the Butterbeer to feel better. She still drank it; consuming two mugs of the frothy sweetness within an hour of being at the Three Broomsticks. She told herself she would have one more glass before taking leave of the tavern so that she could stretch her legs and get the alcohol out of her system before heading back up to the castle later that evening.
The perfect opportunity to slip away from the table presented itself when Ginny brought up something about Quidditch. Not that Hermione had the slightest clue what it meant, but she knew the looks on everyone's faces enough to know that there would be an argument erupting shortly. One that she was completely fine with being absent from.
She took her time slipping through the crowd to get to the bar where Rosmerta was laughing with a couple of patrons sitting there. The older witch cast a glance at Hermione and raised a glass in askance to which she nodded. Without even breaking her conversation, she filled the glass from one of the barrels behind her and brought it over.
"Make that two, Rosie."
Hermione froze at the sound of Riddle's voice and slowly turned to see him standing right beside her. "Professor," she greeted, her voice tight.
"Miss Granger," he returned.
Rosmerta set two overfilled mugs down on the counter, a bit of froth and drink spilling over the sides, making the glass and counter sticky. While Hermione had been too busy watching that, Riddle had already set down more than enough coinage to cover both their drinks.
She tilted her head back, blinking at him in surprise. "Thank you," she whispered.
"You're welcome," he returned, giving her a light smile before leaving her side. She watched as he went to the other side of the room and took a seat with a few other professors.
Before returning to her own seat, she lifted her glass to her lips, wanting to drink a little to avoid spilling any more as she walked. And when her tongue darted out to clear the little bit of foam that stuck to her lips, she saw Riddle watching her from his seat.
But before she could dwell on it too much, he averted his gaze, allowing her to snap out of her trance. Slowly, she made her way back to her friends where, sure enough, they were all engaged in a heated argument. She sat there, hoping they would change the subject soon. All the while, feeling the heat of Riddle's gaze on her from across the room leaving her more confused than ever before.
After nearly being kicked out of the tavern by Rosmerta when Ginny and Ron engaged in a shouting match about opposing favorite teams, Hermione and Harry split off to walk around the small wizarding village. It was nothing they hadn't seen a dozen times before, but with it being their last year, everything felt special. They spent a few hours just strolling through the shops and talking about whatever came to mind before ducking into Honeydukes to blow more money than they should have.
Afterwards, they stood off to the side of the cobblestone road, rummaging through their purchases. When she looked up from her bag, she did a double take at the sight of Harry scanning the crowd. She studied him for a moment and then determined he was looking for someone. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smirking.
"Would you be alright if we met back up at the castle for dinner?" she asked, giving him an out.
His eyes brightened, but he caught himself, as if not wanting to come off as too excited about the split. "Um, sure, I guess."
"I'm headed to The Book Nook," she clarified, letting herself smirk then as his eyes glazed over. "I figured I'd spare you."
"Thank you," he breathed, giving her a shy grin. "I'll see you at dinner."
She waved him off, holding back her retort as she watched him try to make it obvious he was hurrying to be wherever it was he supposed to be. She wondered if he really was meeting up with Draco and then spent the short walk to the bookstore wondering where they would be going where others couldn't see.
The chime of an old fashioned bell sounded as she made her way inside the shop. Immediately, the scent of parchment, leather, and ink invaded her nostrils, causing her to heave a sigh of satisfaction. This was one of her favorite shops in Hogsmeade. It had a plethora of vintage tomes, both magical and Muggle. Not to mention editions that were centuries old; the value of which was beyond even her comprehension.
There were shelves upon shelves stacked full of books. Some even too full to hold anymore, meaning some were just left laying down in front of others. The sight of which always drove her crazy, but the atmosphere was too alluring to walk away from. Having so many books in one space left little room to walk, making every turn a tight squeeze. She was just grateful that most of the shelves were charmed not to rattle and that the books stayed in place whenever she bumped into them trying to find her favorite section.
As she made her way to the back right corner, she paused. She wasn't surprised to see Professor Riddle with his back to her, already perusing the shelves. He had his hand up, his index finger tracing the spines one by one as he searched. She had run into him before; she had just been hoping not to do so again.
At least not today.
But this was her happy place and she refused to be chased out. Instead of leaving, she pushed forward, stopping less than a foot away from him. He either didn't notice her at first or at least pretended not to, because it wasn't until she spoke that he turned his head in her direction.
"Out of reading material already?" she prompted.
"One can never have too many books," he returned, taking the book he last touched from the shelves before leafing through it.
"Depends on if one has the space for more."
She saw the corners of his lips twitch before he slid the book back into place. "That would make a difference, I suppose."
"Otherwise one might come to regret such things," she said, the words having slipped past her lips faster than she realized she was speaking.
Her words had hurt; the evidence was plain as day on his face. Unsure of what to say or do next, Hermione turned to leave, her heart hammering in her chest. But she had barely gotten an entire step away before she felt his fingers around her wrist, preventing her from leaving. She turned her head to look at her and found herself moving once more. Only this time, when she stopped, she was pinned between Riddle at her front and the shelves at her back.
One of his hands fell to her hip, gripping her hard to pull her close. The other had risen to cup her face. Her arms wound around his neck as she tipped her head back so his mouth could slant over hers. Her lips were quick to part; his tongue wasting no time in searching for hers. His hand sank back into her hair until it could cup the back of her head while he swallowed each of her moans by deepening their kiss.
Their lips moved in a hot, hungry fashion. Her lungs burned with the need for air, but she knew she would rather pass out from lack of oxygen than put a stop to this. Every tug of their lips, flex of their fingers, roll of their hips stoked the flames of desire that blossomed beneath her navel. Even the last time they had found themselves entangled in one another hadn't gotten her this worked up. It felt as though her blood was boiling with a raw need. One that she feared if she didn't sate, she would go mad.
But before it could go beyond just that of a kiss, however frenzied, the heat of the moment began to fizzle. Their movements went from frantic to languid in a matter of seconds before they stopped altogether. Neither one of them moved except to pull their lips from one another. Their foreheads pressed together as they panted, their breath mingling in the space between them.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, knowing exactly what he would say when he regained his composure. She was trembling from head to toe from sheer desire and bit at her bottom lip to keep from making any noise lest she break the spell he was under before he did it himself.
But unlike the last time, he didn't seem eager to step back either. Instead, he leaned in closer, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He placed a few slow kisses to her flesh before resting against her and heaving a sigh.
"We can't," he murmured, his breath warming his skin.
Hermione's lips parted to argue, but the words died on her tongue as he added,
"Not here."
Instead, she felt her brows furrow in confusion as he pulled away from her. In the span of one breath to the next, he was gone from her field of vision. She sagged against the stacks, gulping in air and trembling as the loss of his body against hers made her shiver. She wasn't sure what exactly he had meant by that, but what she did know was that she wasn't going to let him forget about it this time.
With that, she pushed herself away from the stacks, straightened her clothes, and began her march back to the castle.
A/N: as always, feel free to follow me on FB or TikTok at: madrose_writing