Chapter 3 - The Gift
22 December
"Hey Tom, I heard your court case with that loony tree group is coming up," called a voice from across the ground floor of the building that housed Borgin and Burke Inc. Tom turned around and found Draco Malfoy approaching the coffee kiosk queue. He pursed his lips, but otherwise kept his face neutral.
"It is indeed."
"Are you worried? This group has been halting up the firm for nearly six months now. You wouldn't think a bunch of hippies could really stand in the way. My father said that you've been preparing for the worst, though." Malfoy had barely paused to breathe. He was one of their newest hires, owing greatly to the fact that his father was a senior partner to the firm.
Tom looked ahead at the line, mentally urging it to move faster. "Seeing as how I've never yet lost a case, I don't intend to start now. I certainly would not allow an insignificant and mediocre non-profit that calls itself spew and expects to be respected to best me." He glanced down at Malfoy, who was looking back with thinly veiled awe, hanging on to every word. Tom allowed a cruel smile to curl his lip as he continued, "I doubt that bunch of rag-tag tree-huggers could tear themselves away from counting squirrels or eating leaves to form a basic argument that would hold up in court." Except for that Granger.
"But father said that-"
"Tell your father that I more than have it under control. I'll take a coffee, black, with a shot of espresso," Tom had reached the front of the line, and pulled out his wallet to pay. He passed the barista a couple bills, collected his drink, then turned back to the blonde. "Lucius might be reminded of those pesky Beauxbatons cases, as well as that lawsuit against Dumbledore. I believe that paid for your last trip to France. Good day, Draco." With that, Tom turned and briskly walked away, glad to be rid of the younger dolt. He took a long sip of his drink, barely grimacing at the harsh flavor that flooded his taste buds. He had grown used to its bitterness over time; it was his go-to working-overtime drink, after all.
This court case had had him staying long after hours preparing and building a case; S.P.E.W was causing him more trouble than he cared to admit. While he belittled and insulted the non-profit every chance he could, they knew how to work the system. Every paper, form, and petition that had to be filled out, every bureaucratic hoop that had to be jumped and obstacle that had to be dealt with, was quickly and efficiently taken care of. Of course, now that he had met their fearless leader, it wasn't hard to see who the main driving force behind all of their organizational power was.
Hermione Granger. She both intrigued, irritated, and frustrated him all at once. Tom had done some research on her since realizing she was a force to be reckoned with. She had graduated top of her class from Hogwarts twelve years ago with a double major in Business and Environmental Science and a minor in law, and later received an MBA. From there, she was quickly snatched up by The Order of the Phoenix, a highly respected human rights organization. She headed a couple projects during her time there and even collected a few awards for her dedication and efforts in promoting migrant worker rights. Somewhere along the way, Granger had decided it was time for her to branch out and start her own company. Thus, S.P.E.W was born.
It was clear she possessed some intellect, unlike the vast majority of the population, but she was wasting her efforts on a cause that, ultimately, would be useless. Her uptight ideals and hardheadedness annoyed him to no end, especially knowing that her skills and determination could be put to much better use elsewhere. He had only been half joking when he'd teased her about finding her a job at Borgin and Burke's. Granger's tenacious attitude, array of experience, sharp wit and even sharper intellect would make her a great asset. It's a shame all of that is wasted.
Tom nodded at a few coworkers on the way to his office, and ignored the rest. He had come to learn that completely disregarding the majority of the firm allowed him to escape from the more horrendous office events throughout the year, the Christmas party being the most heinous example. As Christmas was now only three days away, it never hurt to show just how little the spirit of the holiday affected him.
I bet that Granger girl decorates the park Christmas trees because it would offend her too much to cut down a real one for her house, Tom mused as he stepped into his rather large office and sat down at his desk. There was a large box awaiting him, wrapped in simple brown paper with an envelope on top. Tom rolled his eyes. Every year, some junior executive would always try to get in his good graces. He slit open the envelope and unfolded the enclosed letter.
Riddle,
Although you are a total arse, I admit that I do still feel bad about ruining your shoes. They were Italian leather, so admittedly not that bad. Still, I decided that I would feel much better knowing that neither my money nor yours would be going toward another pair of overpriced murder shoes.
In the spirit of Christmas, I decided to be the bigger person. These shoes are vegan, cruelty-free, and are sustainably made using ethically sourced material. I promise you they are just as comfortable as your old ones, and at least this time you will actually be helping the planet.
Happy Christmas,
Hermione Granger
P.S. Your secretary deserves a raise.
P.P.S. You'd better get used to that feeling of helping the environment. Won't it feel so great knowing that forest will be preserved?
Tom's eyebrows steadily higher as he read the note. He scowled down at the box. What was she playing at? Did she think she could win him over with a pair of hippie moccasins made out of banana leaves? And what had she meant by "your secretary deserves a raise"?
"Parkinson!"
A few moments later, a blonde head peeked its way through the door. "Yes, Tom?"
"That's Mr. Riddle-"
"Oh, please." Pansy rolled her eyes and fully stepped into Tom's office. We both know I will never call you that, especially since I've known you since we were kids. Get to the point." Her hands were on her hips and one eyebrow was raised, unimpressed by his show of authority.
"We both know that had you not come with this position, I would never have allowed you to step foot in this building." You're too connected with my past. Tom narrowed his eyes at his secretary, who was not intimidated in the least.
"Well it's a good thing Abraxus made clear I wasn't to be let go, I suppose." They had had this conversation many times before. It frustrated Tom to no end that the one person not threatened by him was the one person whose job it was to follow his directions.
"Your job may not be on the line, but your Christmas bonus is, and you are on thin ice as it is." There, that had rubbed the smug expression off of her face. It never hurt to remind his inferiors of their place. Tom held up Granger's note and pointed toward the box laying on his desk. "Care to explain these?"
Pansy raised an eyebrow at it, a smug gleam creeping back into her eyes. "I have no idea what th-"
"That's a lie," Tom cut in. He waved the note around as he continued, "You are specifically mentioned in this note. 'Your secretary deserves a raise'. What did you have to do with this?"
"She's bloody right, too," she huffed. At Tom's warning look, she said, "Okay, fine. A woman called saying that she wanted to surprise you with a little gift for Christmas. She explained how she accidentally ruined your old shoes and wanted to make it up to you. She was extremely pleasant and polite, and seemed like such a darling. I gave her your shoe size and told her to drop off the package anytime and I'd take care of it. Clearly the girl has some sense."
"I specifically instructed you not to allow any gifts of any kind enter my office. How-"
"Okay, Mr. Scrooge. I get it, Christmas was ruined for you as a kid," at Tom's don't go there look, she threw her hands up in defense, "but she seemed like a sweet, headstrong girl. Lord knows you won't find many of those in your life who would be willing to go to such lengths to do something nice for you."
Tom sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could already feel a headache coming on. "Pansy, she's the one whose case I am opposing in court in two days. This was just her way of gloating." He pointed to the box once more. "Eco-friendly shoes. She's mocking me."
"Well, a little friction only spices things up. Besides, you could do with some ego-deflating once in a while. I'll always remember you as that kid from the smallest house on the block who-"
"Enough. I have told you many times that I do not want any discussion of our childhoods in this building." Tom's voice was stern. The last thing he needed was for a nosy coworker to eavesdrop and start asking questions.
Pansy sniffed. "Fine, have it your way." She turned towards the door and added over her shoulder, "If you need to complain about anything else, you know where to find me." She shut the door behind her, and almost immediately opened it again. "And by the way, if you dare to take away my Christmas bonus, I'll personally go to Abraxus. As he was so fond of me, I doubt he'll take kindly to the idea that my new boss isn't treating me well." With that, she shut the door again, leaving Tom alone in his office.
Great, now that Granger was invading even his office life. She had somehow managed to win over his secretary in just one phone call. Perhaps he had slightly underestimated her. Divide and conquer indeed.
And what the hell do I do with these shoes? Accepting them and wearing them would be like a truce, like conceding victory. That was not Tom Riddle. Never. No, the only thing to do was simply toss them out. Perhaps it would make a nice gift for Parkinson's dog as chew toys? Then again, whatever type of vegan leather they were made from would probably give it indigestion. Tom picked up the box and plopped it on the ground by the waste bin on the side of his desk. It was too large to fully fit in, so he would just have to toss it into a larger bin on his way out of the office.
The matter settled, Tom sunk into his seat and pulled out the files on the Hogsmeade Forest case. It would be one of his company's biggest advancements once the matter was settled. The land was right next to the city of Hogsmeade, a bustling, urban hub of activity. Borgin and Burke planned on placing one of their super malls on that land, as it was a prime location; large, middle to upper-class population and no other comparable center within a fifty mile radius. Riddle himself had suggested the idea during one of their strategic planning meetings. It would make sense, after all, to place the crowning jewel in their nationwide string of shopping malls right next to their corporate center. It was all so perfect. Except for one part: S.P.E.W.
Borgin and Burke always tried to be as discreet about their plans for as long as possible in order to prevent exactly this type of situation. Most pop-up environmental activist groups were fairly unorganized and easily discouraged once they saw how far along developmental plans were. However, only about a day after Riddle had filed to rezone the Hogsmeade territory from an open space to commercial use, a protest petition had been filed against it. That Granger girl had jumped on top of it faster than he had thought possible for someone to notice and act on it.
Since then, it had been an uphill battle. While Riddle had been busy trying to attain the necessary permits for building and construction, as well as an economic and environmental impact analysis report, S.P.E.W had been busy signing petitions and filing protests. They had had a representative present at every city hall meeting in order to speak out against the pending zone change. This upcoming court date would settle the matter once and for all. A panel of eight representatives from the Planning Committee of Hogsmeade would vote, and Riddle needed at least six yeses to overturn S.P.E.W's protest. Tom wasn't worried, though. After all, he had not been top of his graduating class for nothing. He had a few tricks up his sleeve.
A knocking at his office door interrupted Tom's reading. "Come in", he said.
"Mr. Riddle, I have the economic and environmental impact analysis reports," said a tall man leaning halfway through the door frame.
"Nott," Tom greeted him with a nod. He crossed the room to stand in front of Tom's desk.
"And everything is… in order?" Tom asked as he took the papers and began a quick scan of them.
"Please, don't insult me," Nott lightly scoffed. He had worked with Riddle for many years, and he was one of the few trusted to manage sensitive tasks like this. Nevertheless, he was always eager to impress, despite his outwardly cool manner. "My cousin works at the Bureau of Fish and Wildlife Service. He personally oversaw the report and corrected some faulty data. As for the economic impact report, my sister-in-law, Bellatrix, is one of the top economists at the University of Slytherin. As that is the nearest research institution to the Hogsmeade land, it wasn't hard to convince the committee they were the best suited to handle the impact report. I let her know that her projections should be happily optimistic."
Tom nodded along as he listened to Nott as he looked for charts and graphs to corroborate with the other man's explanation. Everything seemed to check out. "Thank you, Nott. Another job well done." Tom inwardly sneered as he saw how his colleague's smile grew and his eyes filled with pride. It was pathetic how much validation these people needed.
"It was nothing at all, Mr. Riddle."
"Now, if you will excuse me. I have a few more preparations to make now that I have this new information," Riddle dismissed the other man and turned his full attention to the reports in his hands. He didn't look up to see Theodore Nott's face momentarily fall before turning, nor did he hear the soft click of his office door being shut.
Now this definitely changes things. Riddle allowed himself a small smile as he read through the doctored analyses. This was the key. Tom took out a pen and pad of paper and began jotting down notes, circling key facts, and building a solid case to present in two days.
Granger won't know what hit her.
The next morning found Tom still at his desk, having worked through the night. His eyes, now slightly glassy from overuse, finished reading his final paragraph. He let out a sigh of relief, having just finished preparing for the case, which was now only a day away. Tom glanced at his watch. 9:26 am. His eyes widened in surprise. The hours really slipped away when he was working on a case. He became so immersed in his job, the rest of the world just seemed to be put on hold. While this had been deemed an unhealthy habit in the past, the results were undeniable.
And boy were these results worth it. Tom started shuffling his papers around back into order, placing them into his briefcase. He always left his desk immaculate, with no pen out of place, no loose papers, and absolutely no useless junk like photos or stress balls. Once all was organized and ready to go, Tom let his head fall back against the headrest of his chair and stretched his arms above his head. He normally would never be caught dead in such a position of relaxation in his office, but it was a Saturday morning, and no one was around. He grinned in anticipation of the case. It was the feeling he got before each of his cases - that he was about to eviscerate his opponent thoroughly, and it was incredible.
Tom's eyes fell upon the shoe box resting next to his desk, and his smile faded slightly. It was the first genuine Christmas present he had received in many years. Of course, there was a small pile each year from those in his office hoping for a recommendation for a promotion, colleagues who had been caught in compromising financial positions and needed legal advice, the list went on. But Granger, Hermione, had bought him a present, even though it was clear she needed the money much more than he did. He smirked as he recalled the lumpy sweater and beat up sneakers she had been wearing the day they met.
Stop getting sentimental. Granger's your opponent. It is simply the sleep deprivation talking.
Tom stood up, grabbed his briefcase and the shoe box, and left his office. He passed any number of trash bins that would have fit the box, yet he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. He made it down to the ground floor, past the entryway, and paused to stare at the large trash receptacle outside the building. He stood frozen to the spot for a moment before turning away and walking towards his car. He popped open the trunk and placed the shoe box in it. Damn sentimentality. He might as well keep them as backup in case something happened, like a dog throwing up on his shoe, or a bird somehow managed to poop on it, or something like that. God I need coffee.
With that, Tom got in his car and drove to the nearest coffeehouse in town that he knew, Trelawney's Coffee and Tea Leaves.
A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I last updated. I wasn't entirely sure whether I was going to continue on with this story, but I figured I had to see it through. Expect more updates soon :))
