Authors note: I almost coughed out a lung writing this, so I hope you like it!
The next day found both Hermione and Tom in the room of requirement, continuing their work on their potion. It had been only four days since they almost kissed here. Hermione couldn't push the thought that Riddle might like her romantically out of her brain. No matter how hard she tried, the thought was there and it made her feel so utterly disgusted…and giddy. Such a strange mix of emotions. It seemed that everything she felt about Tom Riddle was contradictory.
"So how do you like it?" Hermione asked him, while slicing the snakeweed into thin even pieces.
"What do you mean?" Tom asked, stirring the potion clockwise for four minutes and then switching to counter-clockwise for seven.
"The book. Have you read it?" Hermione slowed her cutting in anticipation.
"Yes, I have," He said simply. Hermione wasn't surprised, she had seen him read the entirety of 'advanced transfiguration vol. 4' in only two days. It had taken her three.
"...and? What do you think?" Hermione held her breath. She really wanted him to like it. Hopefully he could put aside his prejudice and admit that muggle literature was good.
"It was…good." Tom looked like it pained him to admit. He sighed and met Hermione's gaze. She smiled encouragingly, hoping he would continue. "I found Raskolnikov's character to be somewhat relatable. The writing was good, though nothing exceptional. And the themes were surprisingly intriguing. I actually really liked it…you were right." Tom looked nauseous even saying those words but Hermione didn't mind one bit because he actually liked a muggle book. She gave him that specific novel because she knew he would find it relatable, no matter how disturbing.
"I thought you might find his character relatable. Do you agree with his ideologies?" Hermione was curious. She knew Riddle had killed before, but she wanted to know if he had ever felt remorseful. And she wanted to know if he would answer honestly.
Tom hesitated. And then in a slightly timid voice she had never heard from him, he said, "Somewhat. I agree with the idea that people are either ordinary or extraordinary. And those that are extraordinary should be above the law. If a murder serves a purpose, then i believe, just as Raskolnikov does, that it is justified." Tom watched Hermione carefully, as if afraid of her reaction.
"Have you killed before, Tom?" Hermione asked slowly, cautiously. Sometimes talking to Riddle felt like a game, one where she didn't know all the rules."Something tells me you already know the answer, Hermione." Tom had finished stirring and was now stalking closer to her. She felt like a cornered animal under his heated gaze. "Have you ever felt remorse for them?" Hermione whispered, as he reached out and stroked her jaw gently. Riddle was so tall that Hermione had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. Rich dark brown eyes, almost black, framed by thick lashes that any girl would be envious of. "Only once." Tom replied, still stroking her jaw leisurely. Hermione didn't ask any further questions, she felt like she was already on thin ice, any more pushing and she might fall through.
"Since you liked Crime and Punishment, would you read another?" Hermione asked, already moving away from Riddle and rummaging through her bag again. Without awaiting his answer, Hermione handed him another tattered novel. This one she was quite nervous giving him. It might generate some nasty ideas, but at the moment she didn't care, she just wanted him to enjoy another book. "The Art of War by Sun Tzu. I think you might like this one more." Tom gave her a rare smile.
/
Hermione realised that her time was spent mostly with Riddle. As of late, days were spent either studying with Tom, being in detention with Tom or working on the potion with Tom. And occasionally hanging out with Cynthia and Abraxas. But mostly, her days revolved around Riddle. It seemed that Tom Riddle had always played a big part of her life and when she had barely known him.
"After we finish detention, I want to show you something." Tom said, sounding only slightly mischievous. He was grading second year transfiguration essays on the desk next to hers. She was grading first year charms essays. "What do you want to show me?" Hermione asked, she was a curious person by nature and she would be thinking about this all detention if he didn't tell her. "You'll see." Hermione groaned.
"When did second years become so incompetent?" Tom grumbled, scowling at the parchment in front of him. He dipped his quill in red ink and marked a large cross on the parchment. "Go easy on them, they're only children. Not everyone can be as intelligent as Tom Riddle." Hermione admonished. Tom smiled a little too proudly at the compliment.
After detention was over, Tom's hand encircled Hermione's wrist and tugged her through the castle. They were going in the most abandoned part of the castle, up stairs and through corridors she had never been in. "Where are we going?" Hermione laughed as she tripped and stumbled her way through the castle. Tom's legs were a lot longer than hers, and so were his steps. "Just somewhere i go to think." Tom answered cryptically. And finally they reached their destination. One of the smaller towers at the back of the castle, they climbed the narrow spiral staircase to reach a balcony that overlooked the mountains behind the castle. Hermione stopped to stare at the view, but Riddle kept moving forward. He climbed onto the railing and onto a little ledge. "Come on" Hermione stared at him quizzically but followed his movements and climbed onto the railing. It was harder to climb onto the ledge from there because she wasn't as tall or as agile as Riddle. Tom reached out his hand and she grabbed onto it tightly, he lifted her up onto the ledge with barely any effort. "Thanks"
From the ledge, they both climbed onto the roof of the tower, sitting at the top and watching the view of the forest and mountains. From this height, the view was amazing. A bit of snow covered the pine trees and capped the mountains. Christmas was only a month and a half away and it was already snowing. Only a little bit, but it was enough to make her excited. Hermione had always adored Christmas, it was the best time of the year. Even though this year, she wouldn't be spending it with Ron and Harry at Hogwarts or at the burrow, or with her parents.
Hermione shivered and Tom noticed, immediately casting a warming charm. It made her heart flutter a little. "What are you doing for Christmas, Tom?" Hermione turned to look at him, watching as little flurries of snow littered his hair and got caught in his eyelashes. He looked so handsome, like a Greek statue of a god. "I stay at Hogwarts during Christmas." Tom answered, turning to look at Hermione instead of the mountains. "Because you don't want to go back to the orphanage?" Hermione questioned. She was curious about his life, about the stuff she didn't know. Hermione realised that she wanted to know everything about him. Even the simple, uninteresting things.
"Yes. I hate it there." Tom's whole demeanour darkened, and he scowled.
"What was it like?" Hermione asked. She knew she was pushing, but she didn't care, she wanted to know. Even more so, she wanted to see if he would tell her. She held her breath, awaiting his response.
"It was… it was horrible. The house was crowded and the children were dirty. We were barely fed nor bathed. And Mrs Cole thought I was the devil spawn…she would belt me until I was black and blue and couldn't move. Sometimes…sometimes she would leave me in the orphanage basement for days until I 'learned my lesson'. I hated it there…" Tom had a strange look on his face. Sadness. He was sad. And Hermione's heart hurt for him. How disgusting, to beat a child just because they were different. What a horrible place indeed, no wonder he turned out the way he did. Not that it justified his actions so far…but she understood him. "I'm sorry, Tom. No one deserves to grow up in a place like that." Hermione spoke softly and grabbed his hand with hers and drew circles on his palm with her thumb, hoping to provide him with comfort. She meant it, no one deserved to be treated that way, not even Voldemort.
"It must have been good when you got your Hogwarts letter." Hermione watched as he eyed her thumb on his palm and her hand around his. A soft look adorned his pale face. "Yes, it was the happiest I had ever been, finding out about Hogwarts. I finally had a place I could belong, somewhere I could thrive." Tom said, moving his eyes from their joined hands to Hermione's eyes. Hermione felt the same. When she had gotten her letter, she felt like she finally had a place to belong too. "How about you?"
Hermione thought carefully about her answer. Tom thought she had only come to Hogwarts a few months ago. And so, she couldn't tell him about her acceptance letter or her entry into the wizarding world. But she also didn't want to lie. "Before coming here, I was always fighting. I was just surviving…never living. And now, I don't know what I'm doing."
"Do you ever feel different, Hermione?" Tom asked thoughtfully, grasping her hand tightly and rubbing soothing circles on her wrist. His fingers were long, slender and elegant, she noticed. Hermione was startled by the question and again, she didn't want to lie, not when he had been so honest with her today. Probably more honest than he had ever been with anyone. So Hermione decided then, that she would tell the truth. Hermione breathed in deeply and braced herself. "Yes, I do feel different. My parents are dentists, Tom. I'm a muggleborn." Hermione let out a breath of relief when Tom's hands didn't rip away from hers. Tom's face wasn't contorted in disgust, although he did tense slightly. Hermione decided to continue. "I always felt like I needed to prove to people that I'm not lesser. Prove that i'm not what people think I am. That I'm the same as everyone else. But people always tried to remind me that I am different." Hermione wanted to show him the mark on her arm. The 'Mudblood' that was carved into her with a cursed knife. She wanted him to see the jagged red scars that covered the entire expanse of her arm, because of his followers…because of him. But she didn't.
"You are different, Hermione. But you're better. You are more capable than any person I know, and people are foolish if they think otherwise." Tom said softly, almost sympathetically. They way he looked at her, with a sort of novel fondness. So soft and sweet, she could barely equate this Tom Riddle with Voldemort.
Hermione couldn't help it…she leaned in closer and grabbed the back of his head, forcefully pulling it closer to her own.
And she kissed him.