Chapter 6: Set It Up

"That's two cups of coffee every day this week," Hermione said. "Every. Day. This. Week." She tapped her finger on the table for emphasis.

"I dunno what he thinks he's getting at." Ron slouched down in the booth, folding his arms over his chest. "Harry's a good bloke. He's not about to fall for Riddle's brownnosing."

Ginny stirred her smoothie with its straw. "It's not brownnosing, Ron. I happen to think Riddle has a crush."

"Gross." Ron pulled a face. "On our boss? That's just weird."

"Hermione agrees with me!" Ginny added. "It's the way they make eye-contact. And Riddle's always ogling Harry when he thinks no one is looking."

Ron's face scrunched up further. "That's disturbing, Gin. Don't make me imagine that."

"There's a betting pool in Accounting," continued Ginny, "and I've put twenty on them getting together before the end of the month. We are going to make this happen." She slapped her hand down on the table. Ron's glass of ice water shook with the force of it.

"I thought you both hate him?" Ron glanced back and forth between Hermione and Ginny. "Why do you want to help him?

Ginny said, "Riddle just needs to get laid —"

—the same time that Hermione said, "I think Harry might actually do him some good."

Ginny waved an airy hand. "Same difference, Hermione. Riddle actually let me use the meeting room the other day. Didn't even disparage my intelligence once! That's how you know he has it bad."

Ron was now looking thoughtful. "So the betting pool is in Accounting? That means Malfoy is in it, right? What's he putting money on?"

"He thinks it's not going to happen." Ginny rolled her eyes for emphasis.

"Alright," Ron said, decisive, "then I'm in. Anything to cheat Malfoy out of a few extra pounds."

"Petty," Hermione said, "but as good a reason as any."

Ron looked from Ginny to Hermione, seemingly unbothered by Hermione's comment, and asked, "So what's the plan?"

Hermione shifted back, leaning against the cushioned wall of the booth. "Well," Hermione began, in a smug tone that indicated the cleverness of what she was about to suggest, "I was talking with Neville the other day about the possibility of fiddling with the lifts…"

Draco was led to the back corner of the restaurant, where his cousin Lucius was waiting for him. Straightening his tie and smoothing his lapels, Draco offered a brief wave as he approached. Lucius inclined his head in greeting and gestured for Draco to sit down across from him.

"Draco. How are you?"

"I'm well, thanks. How are things at Slytherin?"

"Hmm. Not so bad."

Draco shifted on his seat, wondering what had prompted this sudden request for lunch. Normally, Draco didn't come to such expensive places; he could hardly afford it on his basic accountant's salary.

Lucius, however, worked as a stock broker for one of the largest firms in London. Draco had dreams of working there someday. He had been dropping less-than-subtle hints around Lucius, hoping that his cousin would put in a good word for him. Maybe today was finally going to be that day!

Straightening, Draco ordered a glass of sauvignon blanc from the waitress when she came by, followed by apricot-glazed chicken with mushrooms and potatoes.

"I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to meet for lunch," Lucius said, once their food orders were put in. "After all, it isn't our usual biweekly."

Draco nodded, sure now that Lucius was about to tell him that there was a new opening at Slytherin, and wouldn't Draco love to be the perfect person to fill that role?

"There's a problem I'd like for you to help me with."

"Absolutely," Draco said immediately. "I can do it."

Lucius seemed surprised at the enthusiasm. He paused and raised his brows ever so slightly.

"We're cousins," Draco said, feeling his face redden. "We're family. Of course I'll help you, Lucius."

Lucius frowned, but let the previous faux pas slide. "It's about Tom. I've been… concerned about him, as of late."

Tom Riddle? What on earth kind of problem could this be that had to do with Riddle and Slytherin? Draco opened his mouth to ask, but then Lucius resumed talking, and so Draco shut up. Lucius wouldn't like being interrupted.

"He's got his heart set on a rather disastrous course of action that I would like to avoid. For his own good, you understand. Only he refuses to listen to me." Lucius sniffed in offense. "So I felt it would be best to enlist your help, seeing as the two of you work together. You'll have ample opportunity to interfere."

Draco was rapidly becoming confused, but was too nervous to say so. Tom didn't seem the kind of bloke who could even make mistakes. Tom was like Granger—once he decided to do something, he succeeded, even if he was a complete and utter prat about it.

"What do you want me to interfere with?" Draco asked cautiously. He reached for his glass of wine to steady himself. It wouldn't do to appear immature. Once he figured out what Lucius wanted, he would do it. Then Lucius would owe him, and Draco could leverage this to get himself a position at Slytherin.

"You see, Tom's gotten it into his head that he can successfully seduce your new boss, Harry Potter."

Draco spat his wine out on himself like a fool, coughing and spluttering.

"What?!"

The weekend, as it was, passed in a blur of clandestine meetings and convoluted romance plots.

On Monday morning, Tom Riddle stopped by Harry's favourite coffee shop and purchased two cups of coffee. Hermione was there, and she began to ask him question after question on the ERP system she'd chosen for the company, even though he had nothing to do with it.

Ron and Ginny Weasley had offered to carpool with Harry to work, and Harry, despite finding the offer a bit odd, had been too awkward to say no. Ginny drove, and Ron, aside from keeping up his side of the casual conversation, kept a close eye on the clock.

As expected, the moment Tom laid eyes on Harry, he abandoned Hermione in favour of walking straight over and offering the second cup of coffee in his tray.

The brilliant, dazzling smile on Tom's face was almost adorable.

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione made their way straight towards the stairs without a second glance, trusting that Peter Pettigrew, who worked maintenance for the building, would do his job properly.

Harry and Tom made their way into the lift. Tom slowed his steps enough to let Harry enter first, then cast a suspicious eye around the empty lobby.

Where had the Weasleys gone? And Granger? Tom could have sworn they had been here moments ago.

"Did you have a nice weekend?"

Tom hit the button for the lift doors to close, then hit the floor number for their building.

"Yes. A very nice one, in fact. Did you?"

Harry's face lit up. "Yeah, actually! I met up with some of my mates—Dean and Seamus—and we went to go see a movie—"

Tom listened, nodding and smiling, then found himself actually interested as Harry began to narrate the parts of the movie he found irritating and illogical. This should not have been so surprising; after all, Tom already found Harry to be very interesting, and so it only reasoned that the more time he spent with Harry, the more interesting Harry would become to him.

This pleasant thought was cut off by the loud shriek of the lift coming to a dead halt.

"What was that?" Harry asked, bewildered. "We've stopped moving."

Tom reached for the door button, pressing it a few times. That did nothing, so he switched to pressing down on the call button.

"Hello?" Tom called, straining his ears for a response.

Nothing but static.

"This is ridiculous," Tom said scathingly. "I've always said the building maintenance here is rubbish."

As if in response to his insult, the lights above them flickered ominously.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," Harry said, sounding unsure. "Let me call someone upstairs and see if they can figure out what's going on."

"I can do it," Tom said, snappish. Then he took a deep breath, smoothing his tone as he added, "Don't worry about this, Harry. I'll get us out of here."

Harry blinked doubtfully. "Alright. You're not—" Harry paused, seeming to think about his phrasing, then continued, "—not claustrophobic, are you?"

"What? Why would I be?"

"You just seem a bit frazzled, is all," Harry said.

Tom retrieved his mobile from his coat and dialed a number. The phone rang once, then was picked up straight away.

"Draco," said Tom, without any introduction. "Harry and I are trapped in the lift of the building. Find out what is going on, and get us out of here."

There was a long pause on the other end of the call, and then a sudden intake of breath.

"Yes, right away," Draco said quickly. "I'm on it." And then the line went dead.

Tom put his mobile away. "He says he's on it," he informed Harry.

"Right." Harry glanced around at their enclosed space. "Could have been worse, I guess," he joked. "We could be sitting here in the dark."

Tom thought about that. It could have been worse. He could have been trapped in here with Granger. Or, god forbid, the girl Weasley. That would have been a nightmare of a situation.

Being trapped in here with Harry was the best possible outcome. It was even better in that it afforded them some extra time together.

Situation now reassessed, Tom smothered his previous irritation at the inconvenience. None of his time would be wasted while Harry was around. "Since we're here," Tom said, "why don't we continue our previous conversation?"

Those lovely eyes lit up again. "Okay," Harry said. "If you're sure I'm not boring you or anything."

"Oh, Harry, I don't think you ever could bore me." Tom took a step closer and leant in, conspiratorial. "I find you very… intriguing. All that you say is rather compelling."

"That's nice to hear." Harry laughed, a soft, almost nervous sound, and offered Tom a small smile. "So, ah, where was I?"

Harry continued with his analysis of the movie, and Tom sipped at his coffee, letting his gaze linger on Harry's lips, on Harry's extensive hand gestures as he spoke.

If Harry noticed the heated edge to the attention bestowed upon him, he did an admirable job of disguising it, for there was little evidence save for the faint flush of colour across Harry's cheeks.

After some time of this, the lift finally moved, up and up, all the way to the correct floor. The doors opened, revealing the pale, sweating face of Draco Malfoy.

"Mr. Potter," said Draco, in urgent tones that suggested utter disaster was imminent. "There's something I need you to help me with right now."

And then Draco seized Harry by the arm and dragged him away, leaving Tom standing, alone, just in front of the elevator, half-empty coffee cup in hand.