FIVE

Wednesday, 23 September 2020

The nerves that formed a knot in her stomach had only gotten worse when Hermione woke the following morning. She hadn't thought it possible until she'd gone to the bathroom only to spend a ridiculous amount of time debating on whether or not she had to vomit. Nothing ever came up, but the feeling of dread only intensified with the smell of food in the Great Hall. So instead of eating breakfast, she sat there, squirming in her seat, refusing to look anywhere but the table.

After breakfast was Charms. Hermione couldn't recall a single class where she had ever paid more attention in her entire life. She hung on every word Flitwick said and by the end of the period, she had mastered the spell that was supposed to take more than one session to learn. Impressed, Flitwick asked her to stay and help teach it to the next class as well. Hermione was all too eager to accept, knowing it had helped and that her study hour before lunch would have been dismal without it.

By the time lunch came around, Hermione was already in a slightly better mood. Especially surrounded by Harry and the others in the Great Hall. Her nerves were still frayed, so instead of a full meal, she only picked at what was available, but at least she got food in her stomach.

Had it not been for the accidental run in with a certain professor, the rest of her day might have gotten better too.

It happened right after she had left the Great Hall. She and Neville had left together since they had Transfiguration together. They had just rounded the corner to Professor McGonagall's classroom at the same time as Professor Riddle. Hermione, having been closest to the wall, was the one to collide with him. The bag slung over her shoulder slipped off, falling to the ground, scattering her items along the floor.

Hermione hadn't even realized it was Riddle at first. Not until a pair of strong hands settled on her waist to keep her from losing her balance. Her head snapped up towards him, her eyes going wide as they locked with his. All sense of time seemed to slow down in that moment. From one breath to the next, all she could feel was the heat of his hands through her robes.

But just as fast as he'd placed them there, he withdrew his touch, making her shiver. He inclined his head, letting out a muttered, "My apologies, Miss Granger," before he bent to pick her things up for her.

Neville helped and before she knew it, she was stuffing her things back inside of her bag. And before she could even respond and tell him that it was okay, Riddle was halfway down the corridor. As if he had never had to stop in the first place.

Neville snorted at that as they began to walk again. "Someone was in a hurry," he huffed.

"I guess so," she breathed, trying to calm her rattled nerves.

"Are you alright?" he asked as they approached the classroom.

She was quick to nod, but it was a moment before she was able to get the words out. "I'm fine," she replied at last, wishing she felt that way.

As they went inside, taking their seats and getting out their books for the day's lesson, Hermione couldn't stop imagining the feel of his hands still on her waist. And the further into the hour they got, the closer she realized she was to her tutoring session with Riddle later that night.

Just like that, she was back to shaking with nerves, unable to concentrate on anything other than her own thoughts.

Hermione had spent her study hour after Transfiguration practicing the wand movements McGonagall had introduced. She was determined to get it right at least once before Potions which made her late to her last class of the day. Professor Snape was not amused and even docked her twenty house points. As if she needed the extra frustration and anxiety clouding her mind.

And just like with Transfiguration, the potion she had been working on during class was a failure. It didn't explode like someone else's had, but it burned a hole through the side of the cauldron. Had Snape not just wanted her out of his classroom, she was pretty sure she would have ended up with detention.

Instead of going to the Great Hall for dinner, Hermione stole down to the kitchens and grabbed something there. It wasn't something she liked to do often, but she wasn't ready for the ridicule she was sure her classmates would instill upon her. It was a side-effect from being the smartest person in the room; everyone always harped on the moment you fail.

Once she had eaten enough to quiet the rumbling of her stomach, she took off to the library where she cracked open her Potions tome and obsessed over the latest potion she'd spent the last hour botching. Too lost in her own head, she hadn't realized how much time had passed. Even though she knew she was trying to keep herself busy in the hopes she'd forget, it was as though her body knew exactly what time it was.

Sure enough, as she sought the nearest clock, a shiver crept down her spine.

There were five minutes before eight o'clock. At this point, she was usually already in Riddle's office, seated in front of his desk with her notes spread across the surface. Now, she was debating on whether or not she should even go. She knew that she should. That they needed to talk because she couldn't afford to have another day like this one.

Having made up her mind, Hermione began to pack her things. As eager as she was to put an end to the unease in her stomach, she took her time in leaving the library. She even took the long way around to get to Riddle's office. And even when she arrived, she paced outside the door for a bit, gathering up enough courage to go inside.

When she did, she did so without knocking. Instead, she stepped forward, reached for the handle, and pushed the door in so she could cross the threshold. She stopped short at the sight of Riddle standing just inside the door. They stared at each other in surprise for the longest time, both holding a breath as they tried to figure out what to say.

But after a moment, Riddle took a step back, his arm sweeping out wide, welcoming her in. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show," he said, his voice light.

Hermione swallowed hard as she stepped further in and closed the door behind her. But instead of following him towards the desk and taking a seat, she stayed near the door. "I wasn't sure that I should."

"I wouldn't blame you," he started, offering her a warm smile. "I did nearly run you over in the hallway earlier."

Hermione's laugh was mostly an outlet for her nerves, but it cut through the awkward tension between them all the same. "It was an accident," she breathed as she took a few steps towards the desk.

"I think we've had our fair share of those recently."

The smile on Hermione's lips was quick to fade as she stopped in her tracks in the center of the room. "Is that what you think of Saturday as?" she asked, her mouth dry. "An accident?"

She saw the way he inhaled deeply, puffing out his chest for a brief moment. His lips stretched into a humorless smile before he moved to stand in front of the desk; the very place their "accident" had occurred.

"I'm your professor, Hermione. You were intoxicated and wandering the halls well past curfew." His head tilted to the side as she lifted her arms to cross them in front of her chest. "It was inappropriate for me to take advantage of you in that state."

Hermione shook her head and took a step forward, her eyes going wide. "You didn't take advantage of me," she insisted. "I was completely aware of what was happening. I could…" she paused to clear her throat, her shoulders dropping once more. "I could have said no."

If she hadn't known him as well as she did, Hermione would have missed the way his eyes darkened a single shade of grey. "Which is why I think it best if we discontinue your tutoring sessions," he said, his voice level. "It's not as though you need my help anymore."

Hermione cursed her crush on him and found herself wishing she could take it all back. Regardless if he was her professor, he was still the only one that challenged her. She enjoyed their philosophical talks. Their banter about topics no one else gave a damn about. The thought of losing all of that because a few too many drinks had lowered her inhibitions brought tears to her eyes.

"No, please, I…" she shook her head, her arms falling to her side as she took another half step forward. "This doesn't have to ruin anything, Professor," she continued. "We can move past this. We can…" her voice trailed off as she fumbled for the right words.

"We can pretend it never happened," he said when the words failed her.

Her lips clamped closed and she swallowed hard. That had been her fear on Saturday night. She hadn't wanted to hear him say that; didn't want to forget that it happened. But if that was what it took to get back what they had, then so be it.

"Consider it forgotten," she breathed, forcing a smile.

He studied her for what felt like forever before pushing himself away from the desk and gesturing for her to take a seat. "In that case," he said as he sat in his own chair behind the desk, "care to elaborate on the rumors I heard of you exploding your cauldron in Potions today?"

Hermione sighed as she set her bag down by the desk and took the seat in front of it. "I had quite a number of things on my mind," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm more surprised it was just my cauldron and not everyone else's."

His soft rumble of laughter broke the last of the tension between them and before she knew it, she was able to relax in her seat once more. She was amazed at how quickly the two of them settled into their normal conversations. At how she went from stressing about her mistakes in classes earlier that day to laughing about them now. They even picked up their discussion on the book they had been talking about the last time she sat in his office. And when the time came for her to take her leave for the night, she had almost forgotten about the kiss entirely.

Almost.

They both knew it was time to call it a night when the conversation began to lull. Hermione was the first to rise, careful not to stare at him for too long. "I hope you don't mind if I leave early tonight, Professor."

He shook his head slightly, his lips curved up in a barely there smile. "Not at all. You've had quite the day it seems."

She laughed softly and turned towards the door, determined not to linger like she usually would. He followed her out into the hallway, extinguishing the lights with a flick of his wand. And after he locked the door, she muttered a brief, "Goodnight, Professor," under her breath and turned away to head for her dorm.

She had barely made it down the first corridor to the main hallway by the stairs before she heard her name being called. She paused mid-step and turned to find Professor Riddle walking up to her; her bag in hand. She hadn't even realized she had left it behind and was grateful that he had remembered for her. And just as she extended her hand to take it, her lips parting to thank him, a loud bang sounded through the castle.

Everything that happened after was a blur. She distantly recalled Riddle moving towards her at the same time she moved back. In the distance, she thought she heard heavy footsteps of people running away. Through the ringing of her ears, she swore she heard Peeves saying, "You'll never get one over on me!"

As the panic began to subside, Hermione became hyper-aware of the position she was in. While her breathing began to slow, her heart continued to beat erratically. She could feel the chill of the stone wall at her back, but more importantly, she could feel the warmth of Riddle's pressed against her own. Slowly, her eyes began to open and sure enough, as her vision focused, all she could see was him.

His palms were flat on the wall at her sides, caging her between his arms. He was staring down at her, his gaze searching hers. She gave a small nod, answering his unspoken question of whether or not she was okay. She felt him relax ever so slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, they stayed put for far longer than they should have. Long enough for her to recall the last time they had been this close to one another.

But before her hopes could get too far up that they would have a repeat incident, Riddle was pulling away. She shivered at the loss of his warmth and swallowed hard as he bent before her to pick up the bag he'd dropped in order to get her out of Peeve's way. They maintained their silence as she took it from his grasp. And after a steady incline of his head, Riddle turned and walked away.

Only when he was out of sight did Hermione feel that she could get a deep enough breath. Shaking off the nerves, Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and pushed herself away from the wall. And as she began to walk to her dorm for the night, she was glad she wasn't the only one having a hard time forgetting.

A/N: Happy spring!

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