Welcome back! Sorry for the wait, but I'm already getting writer's block for this. I'm hoping once I make it through her younger years it'll be easier to write!
I'd just like to reaffirm now that there will be NO underage themes in this story! Nothing will happen between Hermione and Tom until she is 17, which is the legal age in the wizarding world. Also, Tom doesn't view Hermione in any sexual way right now. She's too young. He only wants to protect her and be around her.
Thank you so much for reading, commenting, etc.! Enjoy!
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tom's right hand rests on the table in front of him, fingers continuously tapping against it. Below, his foot shakes rhythmically. He sees Severus glaring at him out of the corner of his eye.
Dumbledore is at the head of the table, droning on about castle issues he couldn't care less about. "The leaky faucet in the fourth floor boy's bathroom has been repaired, and the billywig infestation in the Ravenclaw common room has finally been eradicated." Dumbledore's voice fades into the background as Tom's thoughts move to tonight. The students should be arriving within the hour; normally he wouldn't give a rat's arse about any of them, but this is the year that she's finally coming to school.
His chest tightens as he starts thinking about his mate. His leg starts shaking harder.
He feels a sharp kick on his leg and jerks around to glare at Severus. He's glaring right back, eyes darting to where his foot rests under the table. Tom rolls his eyes as he turns back to face the head of the table, but he ceases his jittering.
Twenty minutes later, the meeting is finally over and they're released to start heading down to the Great Hall to wait for the students. Tom quickly stands and leaves the room, Severus beside him.
"You need to calm down."
Tom throws him a scowl. "Calm down? How do you expect me to calm down? My mate is arriving any minute now. I'm finally going to get to see her after 68 years and you want me to calm down?"
"Precisely," Severus drawls. "There's nothing you can do until she gets here. Control yourself."
Tom's eyes flash, peering over to the man at his side. "I think you've grown too comfortable around me, Severus. It would behoove you to watch your tone."
Severus rolls his eyes. "You've grown soft in your time here, Tom. You're not as dark as you used to be."
Over the years, teaching at Hogwarts and waiting for his mate, he's lost some of his edge. Though he always believed he wouldn't, he's gotten comfortable in his situation. His focus is on his mate. Finding her and protecting her. He hasn't had time to focus on his previous ideologies in the half century or so. In turn, Severus is right. He has, as he said, grown soft.
However, unwilling to be viewed as such, Tom turns, pulling out his wand to show Severus just how dark he still can be when he feels a heavy pull deep in his chest. He halts with a gasp, grasping at the area.
Snape looks his way at the movement. "I take it the train has arrived?"
Tom nods. His stomach clenches in anticipation and eagerness to finally see his mate. He has to restrain himself from rushing off to the train to find her right away. Dumbledore had already implored that he stay away from the train and wait for his mate to naturally make her way to him.
They continue into the Great Hall and take their seats at the staff table. The returning students begin to pour into the room and sit at their House tables. The pull in Tom's chest grows stronger, and he knows his mate is getting closer. His heart pounds as he stares in the direction of the entrance he knows the first years will be coming in through. His hands grip the arms of his chair as the doors open and McGonagall, at last, leads them inside. His eyes dart quickly between each of the students, trying to find her.
His fingers twitch and his breath starts coming faster as he fails to spot her. She's here, I know she's here. I can't find her. Where is she, where is she, where is she. He starts to panic as the sorting begins. He continues to look through all of the students, but she's not there. Where is she?
The next name is called as he continues to fret. "Hermione Granger." A group of boys move out of the way as a small girl with a heart shaped face, button nose, and wild hair walks up onto the platform. He freezes. His heart clenches and he knows. My mate. Mine, mine, mine. Hermione. He finally knows her name, after all these years.
He takes her in as the Hat is placed on her head, making sure she's safe and unharmed. After a minute, the Hat bellows, "GRYFFINDOR." He grimaces. Well, that's unfortunate. Over the years, he assumed that his mate would be sorted into Slytherin, like him. It doesn't matter much to him which House she's in – although Gryffindor was at the bottom of his list – but he had settled on personal quarters in the dungeon while under the impression that her dorms would be there. No matter, I'll tell Dumbledore I'll need to be moved closer to Gryffindor Tower.
As she stands, she turns and they make eye contact. His eyes narrow. Mine, mine, mine. He sees her eyes widen, and he feels a flash of irritation when she turns around and walks away from him to sit at the Gryffindor table. He keeps an eye on her as the sorting continues, his irritation fading into affection every time she turns his way. He dimly notices Draco Malfoy being sorted into Slytherin.
Noticing his obvious staring throughout the meal, Snape leans in close to him. "That's her, then?"
"Mm-hmm," he hums, refusing to look away from her. Irrationally thinking she might disappear.
He watches as the Weasley twins go back and forth, gesturing towards the staff table. Most likely gossiping to the first years about the professors, as they always do. At one point, he sees the group looking his way while they talked, Hermione joining in at this point in the conversation. Is she talking about me? Elation swells in his chest at the thought of any kind of attention from his mate.
He keeps an eye on her during the rest of the feast. When McGonagall dismisses the first years and Hermione stands to leave, he feels a rush of panic. He's just found her, she can't leave yet. She can't leave him. He stands to rush after her when he feels a firm hand on his shoulder pulling him down. A growl forms in his throat. He snaps at Severus, "Let go of me."
"No," he hisses. "Don't be daft. You can't just follow after her. You'll frighten the poor girl."
He scowls. "I would never—"
"Never intentionally," Severus briskly interrupts. "But she doesn't know about you. She hasn't been waiting for you like you've been waiting for her. You need to ease her into it, not accost her in the hall on her first night here. Think about her and how she would feel," Severus reasons with him.
Tom sighs and reluctantly settles back into his seat. He turns back to Hermione to see her looking back at him with a furrowed brow, right before she passes through the doors and away from him until tomorrow.
After all of the students head back to their dormitories, Tom and Severus stand to walk back to the dungeons. They part when Severus retires to his quarters, and Tom continues on to the Slytherin common room.
He reaches the wall that hides the entrance and says the password, stepping through as it opens for him. It doesn't take long for him to spot a shock of platinum blonde hair. He makes his way over to the sofas by the fireplace to Draco Malfoy.
Draco glances up as Blaise Zabini nudges him and nods in Tom's direction. Those whose families have been close to the Malfoys look on knowingly as Draco walks over to meet with their new professor.
"Draco," he greets.
"Tom." He grins. "Hello."
"I see you made Slytherin. I'm sure your father is very proud." Tom smirks.
Draco visibly puffs up in pride, nose pointed in the air. "Of course. He would expect nothing less." Draco's expression turns serious. He murmurs, "Father told me you would probably be coming to me. Did you find her?"
Tom glances around the common and casts a quick Muffliato for privacy. He turns back to Draco with a nod. "I did. Her name is Hermione Granger."
Draco's face lightens in recognition. "I remember her sorting. Gryffindor?" Draco throws him an amused look.
"You'll treat her no different because of her House," he commands with a scowl.
Draco sobers immediately. "I won't. I know what to do."
"Good. It'll be harder since she's not in Slytherin like I expected, but nothing has change."
"Of course, Tom. I've been waiting to meet her my whole life. Something as simple as which House she was sorted in won't change that."
Tom smiles, grateful for all Malfoys' undying loyalty. "Very well. Have a good night, Draco. I'll see you in class tomorrow."
"Good night."
Tom makes his way out of the Slytherin common room and continues out of the dungeons and up the stairs to start patrolling the halls.
Tom wakes early the next morning. He spent most of the night patrolling – mostly sticking to the high points of the castle. When he finally returned to his quarters to try and get a few hours of sleep, he found himself pacing his room, unable to relax. I really need to speak to Dumbledore and change rooms. He finally dozed off early into the morning on account of sheer exhaustion. He glances over to his right at the clock on the wall. 6:37 AM. He rises out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.
After dressing in black slacks, black jumper, and standard robes, he sets off towards the Great Hall for breakfast. He usually takes his meals in his quarters, but he doesn't want to miss any opportunity to see his mate.
He walks into the Great Hall and heads up to the staff table. His eyes dart towards the Gryffindor table as soon as he passes through the doors. No sign of his mate. Disappointed, he turns his gaze back in front of him as he continues walking up to the platform. His eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Severus seated at the table. He acknowledges Severus as he pulls out his chair. "What brings you out of your dungeon and into the presence of others this early in the morning?"
Severus sets down his goblet, swallowing his swig of pumpkin juice. "I would ask you the same, although I think I already know the answer."
Tom hums and reaches forward to start loading his plate, keeping his eyes on the entrance all the while.
Just a few minutes pass until he sees her walk through the doors. Another Gryffindor first year at her side. Longbottom, he thinks is his name. She's laughing at something the Longbottom boy said, but her laughter cuts off when her eyes meet his. He relaxes at her gaze. His worry dissipating at the sight of her. They hold each other's gaze until Longbottom nudges her and starts to speak. She rips her eyes from his and turns back to her companion, saying something in reply and then moving towards the Gryffindor table. He shoots a glare at the boy.
"If looks could kill, I expect that pudgy boy would be sprawled on the floor cold as ice by now."
His attention flickers to the man at his side. "One could only hope."
Severus rolls his eyes. "I wish I would've known your possessiveness would intensify after you finally met her. I would have never spoken to you in that case."
Ignoring his friend, Tom starts to eat his breakfast, keeping a close watch on Hermione.
He looks up as the owls swoop in to deliver the morning post. Exclamations of joy resounded around to room as students received letters of congratulations from their parents. He smiles fondly as a letter is dropped in front of Hermione and her face brightens as she opens it.
Movement as his side brings his attention to Severus standing from his chair. He watches as he walks off to the Slytherin table to start handing out class schedules to the first years – the second years and up received their schedules with their letters over the summer. He glances back towards the Gryffindor table as McGonagall walks over to start handing out her own stack of schedules. As she hands Hermione hers, he makes a note to himself to ask for a copy.
He teaches DADA to first year Gryffindors and Slytherins Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Today being Tuesday, he'll get to see her in his second class of the day.
He watches as she leaves with the Longbottom boy to head for their first class. He stands to make his way to his own classroom for his NEWT level class with the seventh years, wishing for time to go by quickly.
It takes longer than he would like before his seventh years are leaving and the first years are piling into the room. He leans against his desk, arms crossed and eyes on the door.
The girls that sat with Hermione at the Welcoming Feast walk through the door and start giggling straight away when they see him. He internally rolls his eyes. He's sure they've heard all about him by now. He's been dealing with students lusting after him and hoping to be the one ever since he had to tell the truth about his true nature or risk being dismissed.
His attention is brought back to the entrance when Hermione finally steps through the door. He follows her every move as she makes her way further into the room, the Longbottom boy attached to her hip. His annoyance at the boy is forgotten when she takes the seat front and center. Delight swells in his chest. She couldn't be closer unless she was sitting at his desk with him. He ponders the thought, but shakes his head to clear it away.
He notices Draco enter with Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott following beside him. He sees Hermione turn and wave towards the boys, each one sending a smile and wave back to her. Tom sends an approving nod Draco's way.
As the last of the students pour into the room, he waves his hand and the door slams closed. The chattering of voices ceases at the noise.
"Good morning, everyone. My name is Professor Riddle, and this is Defense Against the Dark Arts." He surveys all the students in the room. Best to not make his pointed staring obvious in such a small space. "We'll start off today with a simple introduction, but don't let that fool you. This class will be difficult. I'm here to test your mind and your spell work, not to hold your hand."
He watches as most of the students gulp and slouch down into their chairs. Hermione however, seems to perk up at this information. He quirks a brow and smirks at her eagerness. "Now, let's get started with some questions to test your aptitude. Who can tell me which two ingredients are mixed together to treat werewolf bites?"
Hermione's hand shoots up into the air. Two or three others following behind her at a much slower pace. He holds back a grin, eager to finally be able to speak to his mate. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"A mixture of powered silver and dittany is used to treat werewolf bites and to stop the victim from bleeding to death, sir." Her voice is clear and rings like bells in his ears.
"Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor." Fondness grips his chest as her face brightens with pride at the praise. "What year did Gellert Grindelwald's Uprising end?" Again, Hermione's is the first hand up. "Miss Granger?"
"1945, sir."
"Correct again, Miss Granger. Very good. Ten points to Gryffindor." Now beaming, Hermione softly thanks him.
"Who can tell me what can be used as a vampire deterrent?" Although Hermione is once again the first student who raises their hand, he calls on another. It'll do neither of them any good if he's seen favoring her in class. "Mr. Malfoy?" His heart clenches as he sees Hermione frown and slowly lower her hand.
Draco straightens in his seat. "Garlic, Professor. Vampires are highly allergic to it."
"Well done. Ten points to Slytherin."
After he picks on Hermione to answer another question, he notices the Potter boy and one of the Weasleys sitting in the middle of the room rolling their eyes. Weasley leans into Potter and he can just barely hear him say, "That bird's a right know it all, isn't she?" He sees Hermione's face flare red as she slouches low in her seat. His fists clench and his eyes narrow at the two boys.
"Weasley! Potter!" Both boys straighten to attention in their seats. "How do you expect to learn if you're too busy whispering and giggling like little schoolgirls?" They redden as the class around them starts to laugh. "Pay attention and be quiet, or I'll have to ask you to leave."
"Yes, sir."
"Sorry, Professor."
He returns back to the class and only calms as he sees Hermione smiling gratefully his way.
The class ends sooner than he would like, and the students start to pack their things and head out the door. He starts to panic again. "Miss Granger?" He abruptly asks. "Would you mind staying behind for a just a minute?"
"Of course, Professor." With a look of nervousness, she shoos Longbottom away and walks up to him by his desk. The last student walks out of the room and closes the door behind them. "Did I do something wrong, sir?"
"No, no. Nothing wrong. I just wanted to tell you how impressed I was with you today in class. I couldn't have you answer every question, of course, but it didn't escape my notice that you knew all the answers." He grins as Hermione's expression changes and she beams at the praise.
"Thank you, Professor! I started studying as soon as I got my books. It's all just so interesting. I finished all of the first year books, so I started on second year."
His eyes widen. "Very impressive, Miss Granger. I'm looking forward to having you in my class." He distantly hears the bell ringing in the hall. He frowns. "Best get on to your next class. I'll see you on Thursday."
"I'm looking forward to being in your class, as well. See you Thursday, Professor Riddle." She smiles as she turns and rushes off to her next class.
His face glazes over at her use of his last name. He never much cared for his name, but he couldn't help but love the sound of her saying it. Now, how can I get her to call me Tom?
He wipes the look off his face as the third years come into the room, hoping for another quick class period so he can get off to lunch to see her again.
The door closes behind the last student of his final class of the day. He settles into his desk chair and organizes the already growing stack of papers gathering on the tabletop. He moves to stand when the door opens. He glances up to spot the person he least hoped it would be.
"Albus. What do I owe this pleasure?"
"Don't act naive, Tom. We both know what year it is." There's that infernal twinkle again. He holds back an eyeroll as Dumbledore begins to walk around the room and fiddle with magical artifacts lying about. "I couldn't help but notice the extra attention you've been giving one of the new first years. A Miss Granger?" He tosses a sly glance over his shoulder.
Tom sighs. "Enough with the games, Albus. Yes, Hermione is my mate."
Dumbledore turns to face Tom with a grin. "I'm very happy that the wait is finally over. Miss Granger seems like a very special girl."
"Yes, she is." He turns back to his paperwork, dismissing the Headmaster. "Was there anything else you needed, Albus?"
"No, no. You may carry on with the rest of your day. I'm sure you're wanting to finish up soon. The students will be heading to dinner in no time at all, and I know you'll want to beat them there," he says suggestively. He chuckles at Tom's scowl. "I shall take my leave. Enjoy the rest of your night, Tom."
Tom's head snaps up as the door opens. "Wait. I almost forgot." One hand still on the door, Dumbledore turns with a quirked brow. "I need personal quarters closer to Gryffindor Tower. Living in the dungeons is somewhat … inconvenient."
"Ahh, yes, I see. Of course." He nods. "There is a spare room available on the seventh floor. I'll have the elves move your things there."
"Thank you, Albus," he says, bowing his head.
With a quick farewell, Dumbledore leaves the room.
Tom sighs. He hopes to be able to relax enough now to sleep tonight.
Unlikely.