A/N: I am so glad to hear that you guys are enjoying this one! Huge thank you to lanamarymack and Angela 007 for alpha/beta reading this chapter, too! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine soon!
The knock on the door prompted Hermione to give herself one last glance in the mirror before straightening the fabric of her skirt. Turning her head to the side, she hoped that her dress wasn't too out of place. She didn't have very many options and she wasn't sure if the off-the-shoulder silhouette would be deemed appropriate or scandalous. She certainly didn't go on many dates so she was hardly an expert. At least the navy blue color flattered her complexion, she thought, quite pleased with the rosy blush on her cheeks.
A second knock came and she knew that she really must answer the door before her date grew impatient. She didn't want to get off on the wrong foot. "Just a minute!" she called. "I'm just grabbing my cloak." Pulling the fabric over her bare shoulders, she opened the door.
Tom Riddle greeted her on the other side of the door, immediately pressing a kiss to her cheek. Hermione thought that was a little bit forward, but felt a shiver of delight run up her spine nonetheless.
"Are you alright with side-along apparition, Hermione?" he asked, offering her his arm.
"Of course," she agreed, even though she wasn't entirely sure where they were going. He hadn't been very forthright when he all but strong-armed her into agreeing to this date the evening before.
Despite herself, Hermione had spent the entire day looking forward to whatever Tom had in store for her. There was something about him that drew her in, even though she knew that she should probably be cautious around him. She wasn't stupid. She knew where he worked and what kind of things he got up to — Becker had given her a thorough accounting of the rumors that swirled around Tom Riddle and his friends. But, a part of her didn't see what was so wrong with exploring all sorts of magic, if only you didn't use it against others.
After she took his arm, he immediately apparated them to one of the apparition points on the far end of Diagon Alley, before leading her down the cobblestone streets to a sleepy looking restaurant called Vincent's, which Hermione knew boasted an excellent steak dinner, though she had never been there before. It wasn't the most exclusive restaurant in London, but she was happy that he had chosen it.
Once Tom led her inside to their table, he stood behind her to remove her cloak. His hands slid along the bare skin of her shoulders, her wild hair pinned up in a twist. She felt all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up in anticipation of his touch. Unbidden, she wondered what it might feel like to have him kiss her there, at the top of her spine where her neck met her shoulders.
Hoping to appear unaffected, she sat down in her chair, which Tom pushed in before finding his own seat across the table from her. She realized that they had barely spoken two sentences to one another the whole time.
"You know, you didn't have to go to such drastic lengths to ask me on a date," she said, looking at him, barely able to hide a smirk. It was delightful to know that a wizard as powerful as Tom — because she had no doubt that he was an exceptional wizard — wanted her so badly. It was enough to make her tummy twist in a strange combination of anticipation and nerves.
"I don't know what you mean," he answered blithely.
"I'm not sure how, but I know that you had something to do with the investigation being dropped," she said, taking a sip of the red wine he'd ordered for them to share. "The evidence was good — it wasn't going away on its own."
Tom gave her a sly grin in return. "What can I say? When you told me that you wouldn't have anything to do with me while you were investigating, I knew I had to turn to drastic measures," he explained. "I couldn't stand the thought of waiting for the Ministry to finish their work before I could see you again."
"Oh, I am sure we would have been seeing a lot of each other," Hermione countered, knowing that she likely would have been looking for excuses to darken the door of Borgin and Burke's that had nothing to do with the investigation and everything to do with the attractive wizard sitting across from her.
"Yes, but only in an official capacity," Tom countered. "I hope that you don't think poorly of me for being so selfish. I am much more interested in seeing you in a social capacity."
"You've made that much clear," she said, clearing her throat, remembering how he'd tracked her down in her favorite bookstore just the afternoon before. He'd made vague allusions to something she'd done to a witch in her department who kept talking to the Daily Prophet about their active investigations. Hermione didn't think she'd done anything wrong in not telling her about the jinx that she'd added to the confidentiality contract she'd signed. It was a lie by omission. But, she certainly didn't want anyone finding it out that it was her that had done it. "But, I promise you didn't need to twist my arm. I'm a bit cross with you, really, for it."
"I won't apologise, Hermione," he said. "I wasn't sure if you'd need the extra incentive to agree. I wasn't going to chance not getting what I wanted in the end."
She could feel herself flush at the unspoken suggestion that it was her that he wanted. Romantically.
Hermione wasn't sure if that was what she wanted with him too, but she was more than willing to explore where this unusual connection between the two of them would go. There was no doubt in her mind that there was a spark between them, but she didn't know if it would flourish or die out.
Before they could talk more, a waiter came to take their orders. Hermione hated the man in that moment, for breaking into their conversation and disrupting their rhythm. When they were alone again, she wasn't entirely sure what to say to him.
"May I say, Hermione, you look exceptionally beautiful this evening," Tom complimented her, his deep blue eyes grazing over the cut of her dress.
She blushed a second time, unused to this sort of male attention. At least he appreciated the dress that she selected. "Thank you," she said, before shyly looking him over. He was an extremely handsome wizard, with his dark hair and crooked smile. His clothes showed signs of being well worn and it didn't take much to realize that he was probably not the richest man in the Wizarding World. She was the same, having had to fight to establish herself after her exams. "You clean up quite nicely yourself."
He shrugged his broad shoulders, looking unsure of himself for a brief moment.
"So, tell me about your family," Hermione prompted, wanting to know more about the wizard.
"I don't exactly like to talk about my family," he said, tersely.
"Neither do I, but you got the story out of me all the same," she countered, unwilling to back down.
"Well, I'm an orphan," he said. She could see the tension in his jaw. "My mother died shortly after bringing me into this world and my father was a useless Muggle who didn't take any interest in me his whole miserable life. I was raised in a Muggle orphanage, unfortunately."
Hermione was pleased that he'd opened up to her, because she could clearly tell it was a sore subject for him. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said, genuinely. Reaching across the table, she gave his hand a little squeeze. "But then, you and I certainly understand each other more than I initially thought. When did you find out you were a wizard?"
He looked at her pensively for a moment. "I always knew that I was different from the other children," he explained. "I could make things happen. And I could talk to snakes."
Unbidden, Hermione made an excited little noise. "Are you really a parselmouth?" she asked, intrigued. "I've read everything Paracelsus has written on parselmouths. Did you know he believes it's mostly hereditary? You must be descended from Salazar Slytherin!"
She watched as he fought a smile at her overly enthusiastic response to the topic. Hermione felt herself blushing again. This was why she didn't go on many dates. "I'm sorry," she said, feeling her shoulders deflate. "I...I am very fascinated by Magic. And I've interrupted you."
Now it was Tom's turn to reach across the table and give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Please don't apologize for your thirst for knowledge, Hermione. I find it quite endearing," he said. "But yes, I've done my own research into parseltongue, once I discovered it was an uncommon skill. To answer your original question, I found out I was a wizard shortly after my eleventh birthday, when Dumbledore came to tell me I would be attending Hogwarts."
The mention of Dumbledore gave Hermione pause. She didn't have much interaction with the wizard, but what she had had left her feeling uneasy and out of sorts. "I wish that someone would have invited me to attend Hogwarts," she said darkly, wondering why she'd been skipped over when Tom had not. "They must have realized how talented you are," she added shyly.
"Yes, I wonder how you were overlooked," he said, curiously. "I am almost positive that it was unintentional. You certainly have enough magical talent to have attended."
It was nice to hear that he thought that, but words did little to rectify the mistake. That she had not been educated at a proper school and had to fight to make a place for herself in this society. "I don't know," she said with a frown. "I know that not everyone sees muggleborns in the best light. You had a witch for a mother at least."
The tension in Tom's jaw returned once again, but then in an instant it was gone. "Tell me, Hermione," he prompted, wanting to move on to happier subjects. "You told me that you like to study. What is it that most has your attention?"
She gave him a small smile, wondering if she should think of something more exciting to tell him about. She knew that most people didn't share her interests and she really didn't want to bore him. But, she decided to be true to herself. There was no point in starting a relationship based off of deception. "You'll probably find it silly, but I'm most interested in the origins of magic," she explained. "I spend a lot of time reading about elemental magic and some of the oldest pureblood rituals."
To her relief, Tom didn't seem to find it silly at all. Instead, he leaned towards her, eager to hear more. "I hope you know that I am not just saying this, but the origins of magic hold my attention, too," he revealed. "It seems that in the past there was boundless energy in magical discovery. To be able to harness that sort of raw power..." he trailed off.
But Hermione completely understood what he meant. "Yes, some of the rituals are especially fascinating to me. It would be so amazing to see just how much you could affect your own magic by participating in some of the rituals," she said, wistfully. "I know that it isn't really practiced today, though."
When she looked up, Tom was giving her another one of his bright smiles. "Hermione, how would you like to go to a Lughnasdagh ritual with me?" he asked, looking rather like he already knew what the answer was.
"Oh really?" Hermione asked, on the edge of her seat, before thinking it through. She bit her lower lip. "But that's the First, isn't it? It's a Friday and I'll have to work."
Tom made a disappointed noise. "That's too bad. I suppose you just aren't as interested in the subject as I thought you were," he said, his eyes dropping to his clean plate.
Her heart beat faster in her chest, hating the thought of disappointing him. "But, I suppose this is such a special occasion, I could get out of it. I could call out sick if I need to," she said, wondering where the normally by the book Hermione had run off to. "Really, they should give the day off for people who keep to the old ways, in any case."
He looked up at her, hopeful. "I think that sounds like an excellent plan," he said, confirming her decision to go. "I think that you will love to get to experience what you've read about first hand."
Glad that it had been decided, Hermione thought that it might be nice to skive off work for once in her life. It wasn't as if she'd taken any of her sick days in the past five years since she'd worked there. It would be fun to break the rules for once, especially if she knew that Tom would be right there with her.
By the time that they had finished their bottle of wine, the restaurant was nearly empty due to the late hour. She couldn't believe how nice it had been to talk to someone whose interests were so aligned with hers for once. She was disappointed when he offered her is arm to return her to her flat, after their short walk to the apparition point.
She didn't want the date to end, but lacked the courage to invite him inside her flat, not wanting him to think she was too easy, though knowing Tom, he would have happily accepted her invitation. Instead, she stood, looking up at him with wide eyes and wondering if he might give her a kiss goodnight.
He stared back down at her. "I had a lovely time with you tonight," he said, taking a step closer to her, until there was barely any space between them. "I am looking forward to our plans next week."
"Likewise," she whispered, wondering what he thought of the breathless way that he sounded. Oh, how she longed for him to kiss her lips.
But, she would have to settle for another quick kiss on her cheek, one that left her feeling unfulfilled and eager, because then he was apparating away, leaving her to her own thoughts.