Authors Note:
Just a quick message before I dive into the eighth chapter. Wow. I was so pleased with the feedback on the last chapter; 23 reviews! So I thought I'd give a personal thanks to those who reviewed (If you didn't review, skip to the chapter ;) :
Guest: I'm glad you liked it :) I'll keep writing as long as you keep reading haha
Radiant Innocence: Thank you :)
flyingberry: Okay! I won't abandon it. I love writing it to be honest, and yes, you'll see the party in this very chapter!
Zeehana: Why, thank you :)
Teliana: I'm so pleased to hear that! And, haha no, Rosie is actually around 6 years old whereas Abraxas is closer to 20
MOONpenguin14: I'm glad you like it :) I really enjoy writing it
amrawo: It's great that you liked it :) That's a very good idea actually!
Violet-eyed-Tiger4: Thank you :)
Stardust of Orion: I'm so pleased that you like it so much. Everything will be discovered soon enough. Hermione needs to decide between her head and heart in the future and that information will come in handy for her decisions. Hope you enjoy future chapters!
sheddingeverycolor: I love updating! I feel as if i'm reading someone else's story as I write it cause I enjoy it so much haha
DaphneWeasley: I certainly will!
Tundeboszi: Thank you very much :)
Guest: Well, here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy it
BarbarafromGR: Orion is too much of an important character for me to release information like that ;) Walburga will feature eventually though
Might Ruler of Gummi Bears: Firstly, what an excellent name! Aw that's a lovely thing to say! thank you haha
Guest: Thank you :)
Lorraine: Thank you haha
ShadowsOfMyHeart: Glad you like it :)
SnowStarLuna: Thank you
Moonnbeam: Rants aren't a bad thing! Haha, I love to see people writing so much
brighteyes2889: Thank you :) I'm so surprised by the amount of reviews for the last chapter!
TamariChan: Thank you very much :)
mekom: Hermione needs to learn to be more tolerant of people! Haha, and yes, Tom's control is admirable. I hope you enjoy this chapter (:
Riddle And His Lady
Chapter Eight: Party At 12 Grimmauld Place
It was a cool, Monday afternoon when Hermione joined Rosmerta and her charming daughter at the dinner table. All three of them had experienced a stressful Saturday and Sunday night at the pub, resulting in calling Rosmerta's neice to come in and lend a hand, and resulting in carrying an unconscious Rosie up to her bed at nearly eleven at night.
It was nice not to have to work for one day and so they all relaxed. The pub never opened on a Monday so Rosmerta had the chance to go and visit friends whilst Hermione spent a little time with Rosie until her mother returned home. It seemed to Hermione that Rosmerta more than deserved a little break from running the pub. Although Hermione thoroughly enjoyed working there, it was immensly hectic and a small time away was much appreciated.
They were currently sat at an old oak table in the downstairs living area of the pub. It was just the three of them and Hermione had offered to cook dinner for a change so Rosmerta could have a rest for once. The gesture was appreciated greatly and so they sat down to a meal of new potatos (chips for Rosie), steamed carrots, peas, chicken breast and vegetable gravy.
"So," Rosmerta began, taking a sip of her wine, "Are you looking forward to the party tonight, Hermione?"
She didn't reply for a moment, as she had a rather hot new potato in her mouth but spoke when she had swallowed it with a timid smile, "I cannot deny I'm nervous. I can't imagine I will know many people there."
Rosmerta smiled an almost pitiful smile, "Tom and Orion will be there though. They seem like charming young men."
Hermione found that statement rather amusing as Rosmerta appraised her with shifty eyes as if she was trying to push her towards one of them. They did indeed seen charming enough, Orion at least. But Tom's charms just seemed to all be an act to Hermione; he was about as charming as her left buttock. She nodded in agreement and took a bite of her chicken after smearing it in gravy, and in agreement said, "They are indeed."
The older woman nodded her head quickly and quickly swallowed a chunk of carrot, "And both rather handsome, if I may say so. Especially Orion."
Hermione struggled not to choke on her potato as those words slipped from her employers mouth. She would have been lying if she said she thought he wasn't handsome but the times she had seen him, a grand total of twice, Hermione had tried to ignore his rugged good looks, mesmerizing blue eyes and shaggy black hair that looked perfect to run your fingers through. Hermione mentally shook her head, trying to dispel thoughts of how devilishly handsome he was. If she allowed those thoughts to take over, she'd turn into Lavender Brown!
"Yes, I suppose he is." Hermione agreed, casting her eyes back down to her plate. That was one conversation she would be glad to miss. Hermione glanced up through her lashes and saw Rosmerta take a deep breath as she prepared for her lecture on how fitting Orion would be as a love interest. She seemed quite infatuated with the young wizard as a match for Hermione. Luckily, Rosie then perked up with a toothy grin, crying, "I like Abraxas!"
Hermione couldn't stop a burst of giggles escaping her mouth at that remark. Rosmerta too seemed to find it amusing, but plastered a determined look on her face and said, trying to hold back a smile, "Now, I think he might be a little too old for you, Rosie."
The young girl did not appear to like this at all. "But, Hermione's allowed to like Orion!" she protested, her bottom lip jutting out.
"Yes," Rosmerta began, reaching over to squeeze her hand, "But Hermione is much older than you, darling."
Rosie did not seem to be happy with this answer but with a stern look from her mother, the usually cheerful girl, kept quiet and sat pushing the remaining food around her plate with her fork. Unsurprisingly, as Hermione observed, she had eaten every single chip on the plate but left the carrots and peas.
"Anyway," Hermione began again after a heavy intake of breath, "I am quite looking forward to seeing Orion again. He seems like a good-natured person."
By now, the three of them had finished eating and Hermione and Rosmerta were finishing off a glass of wine. "Oh, he is. When he was at Hogwarts he used to visit here often with his friends. I never much cared for his friends, but Orion was not like them at all. I knew his mother, you see, before she died ten years ago." Rosmerta paused, casting her eyes down and taking hold of the glass again, "She was a good woman." She then took a sharp gulp of the drink and set the glass back down on the table.
Hermione did not comment and instead nodded in understanding. Hermione knew better than anyone how it was to lose friends and she knew that the best way to console someone was to not say anything at all. No words would bring them back, after all.
Rosie looked particularly bored at the drawn out silence and continued to play with her peas; lining them out perfectly straight on the plate. Hermione observed her quietly until Rosmerta suddenly perked up again.
"Tom is taking you, isn't he?" Rosmerta asked, plastering a smile on her face. Hermione somehow got the impression it was not a real smile.
"Yes, he is."
"Ah, well he is a nice boy; and so clever. The cleverest boy Hogwarts had ever seen, I heard Horace Slughorn say last year. But then, Horace did always have a soft spot for him."
"He certainly seems intelligent," Hermione replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Although she had agreed to go with him, she could not help but feel a slight twinge of guilt; one, for going with Tom in the first place, and two, for befriending what Ron would call "the enemy".
"And he is such a gentleman. You expect a boy of his age to be quite rude and arrogant, as most boys are; but he is a proper gentleman." Rosmerta exclaimed, collecting hers and Hermione's plates together. "And he seems to have taken a shine to you, my dear." she said with a wink and a small smile. Hermione felt her face heat up.
"I hadn't noticed," she commenting quietly. She was about to comment once more on how agreeable Orion was in comparison to Tom; the last thing she needed was Rosmerta forcing them together when she had more things to worry about, like getting home, than boys and relationships. Although it seemed that Rosmerta was already one step ahead of her.
"But Orion does come from a very respectable family," she chattered on, "he would make the perfect husband."
Hermione then spluttered on her drink in a rather unladylike fashion at the shock of her words. "H-husband?! But I am only nineteen!" she exclaimed, setting her wine quite heavily down on the table causing Rosie to jump in shock. It was evident that she had not been paying attention to the conversation.
Rosmerta's eyes snapped up to Hermione and she said quietly, "Nineteen is a good age to marry. I was only twenty years old when I married, you know."
"There is no question at this moment in time when it comes to marriage. I have absolutely no intention to," Hermione replied firmly. She was not enjoying the sudden feeling in the atmosphere; it was feeling far too tense. Was this how most young women were expected to live? Marry at a young age, pop a few children out and then watch your husband cavort with younger women as you grow old and ugly.
"Marrying into the Black family would be very fortunate though. Plan ahead, I always say." she said with a chuckle.
There was silence for a moment as Hermione watched Rosmerta venture into the kitchen with their plates, cutlery and glasses except for Rosie's who had not yet finished her dinner. The young witch was silently fuming in her chair, having to clutch her wand with a vise-like grip. She had expected these kinds of attitudes in the 19th century, not the 20th century. It was clear to Hermione that even now, women were still seen as baby machines. She forced herself to calm down slightly; not everyone had the opinions Rosmerta did. At least, that's what she told herself in order to have a little faith in humanity still.
The conversation was non-existent when Rosmerta returned and they sat in silence. It occurred to Hermione that the reason they were both still sat there was being Rosie had still not finished her dinner.
"Can I leave the table, mummy?" Rosie asked, pushing her plate away from her with a sinister glance at the peas.
"No, Rosie," her mother replied, "You haven't finished your peas."
"But I don't like peas, mummy!" Rosie argued, disgruntled and crossing her arms.
"Finish your dinner, Rosmerta!" She said firmly, glancing at Rosie.
The young girl looked as if she was going to cry for a moment and Hermione considered reaching her hand out to comfort her, but decided not to get between a mother and her daughter.
Hermione was about to say that she was going to go upstairs to get ready for the party as it was only two hours away but was interrupted by an earsplitting crack sounding from the entrance of the pub. All three of them seemed to jump out of their seats at the shocking noise, but none dared to go and find out what it was. Rosmerta soon darted from her chair to investigate, glad to be away from the dinner table.
The two girls waited for a moment for Rosmerta to return and could just slightly hear voices from where she had disappeared. She soon returned, marching into the room with her brows furrowed. Hermione was about to question what it was when a house elf appeared from behind the landlady with a large brown box wrapped neatly with a purple ribbon around it tied in a bow. The house elf, timidly, trotted over to her and halted beside her chair.
"Miss Hermione Granger?" the elf squeaked. It seemed to Hermione that the poor thing was rather struggling to carry such a large parcel and so she nodded to confirm it was her and carefully took the box from the elf, who looked extremely relieved.
"What is your name?" Hermione asked gently, placing the box on the table and leaning down to the shy elf.
"Mifty, miss." she replied.
Hermione smiled kindly and thanked her for delivering it, before the elf apparated again with another loud crack, and vanished from the room.
"You can open it in private if you would like," Rosmerta said, "We don't mind."
The entire business with Rosie and her dinner seemed to disparate from the room when Hermione shook her head and stayed. Rosie jumped from her seat as Hermione unwrapped the ribbon and opened the box, even more eager to see what it was.
The young witch was pleasantly surprised to find a rather nice velvet dress folded neatly in the box with a coat hanger. From what she could gather by holding it up, it was a knee length party dress of midnight blue. It was really a charming little thing, and modestly covered everything, only revealing her calves and arms. Hermione had failed to notice a small silver note in the bottom of the box as she was too concerned with the dress that had suddenly arrived for her.
"Someone has an admirer," Rosmerta chuckled, reaching into the box to retrieve the note and read it aloud.
A beautiful gift for a beautiful lady,
Your dear friend,
Orion Black
Hermione was speechless to say the least, both at the dress and at the affectionate note left from Orion. Perhaps she did have an admirer after all.
"Is Orion your boyfriend, Hermione?" Rosie asked innocently, gazing up at the dress in awe.
Hermione's trance broke and a laugh rippled from her lips. "No, Rosie," she said through laughter, "He's not my boyfriend."
Hermione could have sworn she heard Rosmerta mutter, "not yet, anyway," under her breath, but decided to ignore the accusation.
Rosmerta then shooed Hermione upstairs with the dress and note in hand to try it on. She could not help but feel a twinge of doubt in her mind that the dress might not actually fit her, after all, how was Orion expected to know her size? She silently prayed that it would fit her; she did not want to have to turn down such a beautiful creation and explain to Orion why she wasn't wearing it.
When Hermione returned from her bedroom and descended down the stairs, Rosie and her mother were at the bottom, eagerly awaiting her. It had taken Hermione a mere hour to shower, dry her hair, apply as little makeup as she possibly could and dress herself. She could honestly say she was quite happy with the results of this. Magic was so brilliant at times; she had no idea how to do her own hair, but a simple charm sorted all of that out for her. Magic really was a gift.
"Oh, Hermione," Rosmerta gasped as she slowly stepped down the stairs with her hands over her mouth, "You look beautiful!"
Hermione smiled softly, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment. "Thank you, Rosmerta." she said, and reached the foot of the stairs. Her eyes moved to Rosie who stood next to her mother, gawping up at Hermione with her mouth open.
"Hermione," she began, "Are you a princess?!" she then asked, eagerly and bounced over to the witch before attaching herself to her hand.
Hermione laughed and smiled down at the girl, "Unfortunately not, Rosie."
"That dress looks very expensive," Rosmerta commented and Hermione agreed, gnawing on her bottom lip. She hoped that Orion had not spent too much money on it; she would feel immensely guilty if he had. She hated it when people spent money on her.
"Do you have the floo powder?" Rosmerta asked and Hermione nodded, a nervous grin on her face. She could feel her stomach flipping so she took a deep breath. She reached inside her enchanted bag which held her essentials; wand, emergency books etcetera and once she found the small pouch Tom had given her, opened the pouch to take a handful of the green, shiny remembered that there was no need to say anything when she threw the powder, so, after saying a small farewell to Rosie and Rosmerta, Hermione disappeared through the old stone fireplace of the Three Broomsticks.
When Hermione arrived at Tom's flat, she found the young wizard sat in his usual seat in his bedroom, once again, holding a heavy book in one hand and twirling his wand between his fingers in the other hand. Although his fireplace was in his room, the same room he was sat in, he seemed to immersed in the book to notice she had arrived. She stood like a statue for a moment, her fingers nervously fiddling with her beaded bag as she did not like to interrupt him from his reading. It was clearly a gripping book if his attention was so firmly on it; it almost made her jealous of him reading it. She always loved the feeling of holding such a gripping book. She then noticed how when he was reading intently, he slightly chewed on the inside of his cheek and scrunched his eyebrows. It really was the image of pure vulnerability and Hermione felt slightly guilty for catching him in such a moment of exposure.
The young witch decided to use that opportunity to study what the wizard was wearing and she was happily surprised by his attire. It seemed that he had not put an awful lot of effort in his outfit, although neither had she, although he still managed to look absolutely delicious. Hermione's eyes stroked from his black leather brogues, up to his dark trousers which were held by a thin black belt. Above that, he wore a white buttoned shirt tucked into his trousers neatly. Hermione swallowed at the sight of it; it clung to him perfectly, showing his fine figure to her. The shirt was long-sleeved, but he had neatly rolled the sleeved up to his elbows which made her face heat up further at the sight of his muscular arms. From what she could see, he was not dreadfully muscly but neither skinny; he was a perfect in-between. His hair was at it usually was, although slightly wavy this time and at he read, he seemed to have been running his fingers through it because it was just slightly out of place. Not that Hermione was complaining; she thought it suited him a little bit messy. With his messy hair and rolled up sleeves, anyone else would have looked quite scruffy but somehow he managed to stay looking smart and as handsome as ever.
"My my," A husky voice said, "You do make a pretty picture, Hermione."
Hermione's eyes snapped to the sound of the voice and met with those of a rather arrogant looking Tom Riddle. She felt all the blood rush into her face upon realising that she had just been caught ogling him from head to toe. She opened her mouth to speak but found that nothing came out but a rush of air, so she promptly closed it and swallowed.
"I- I didn't want to interrupt you reading," she explained timidly, taking a step towards him but keeping her distance.
He sharply jumped from his chair, snapping the book shut and sliding his wand into his right hand. "Yes, I understand," he said with an amused tone and a small smirk gracing his lips. She felt absolutely mortified.
She did not miss the slow movement his dark eyes made as they traced up and down her, a pleasing smile adorned on his handsome face. "Well," he began in a smoldering tone, "I must say you look positively ravishing." The young, handsome, wizard took a step towards her so they were in touching distance.
Hermione internally kicked herself; she could not act as if she were a weak little romantic. She was strong, she was a soldier and she would not allow this man...this, beautiful man...to walk all over her just because he was devilishly handsome. Hermione then shook away all her humiliation and smiled gently at the man before taking another step towards him and reaching her hand out.
For a moment it looked as if Tom was about to smack her hand away, but he didn't and although Hermione hesitated with nerves, she then reached up towards his face and stroked a timid hand through his ebony hair, tidying it back in place. She was struck by how soft it was; she had never expected it to be so pleasant to touch. Not that it did not look pleasant; No, it looked heavenly.
She soon snatched her hand back, aware that Tom's breath had seemed to catch in his throat, as had hers as his scent assailed her nostrils. If his hair looked heavenly, she'd be damned if he didn't smell heavenly too.
Tom seemed to be trying to compose himself; he had never had a woman make such a gentle gesture towards him and was finding it quite difficult not to, either, wrench her hand away from him, or draw her closer. He made a sharp intake of breath before forcing a smile on his face and offering his arm to her.
"Shall we go?" He asked with a steady voice, which was lucky because he certainly was not feeling steady.
"Yes," Hermione replied softly and with a crack, they apparated to Orion's party.
12 Grimmauld Place, London
When Hermione and Tom arrived in their destination, a rather grand but pokey hallway, she was overcome with a great sense of deja vú. Her eyes scanned the long corridor with a feeling of dread rising in her stomach.
"Tom," she muttered, unable to stop herself from moving a little closer to his side, "where exactly are we?"
The man next to her straightened up and slipped his wand into his breast pocket and said, "12 Grimmauld Place, Hermione; the home of the Black family." She noticed a slight stiffness in his tone of voice but did not question it and instead just nodded her head.
She swallowed nervously; she never thought she would have been seeing this place again. Tom and Hermione proceeded together in silence through to the reception room where they met with the grinning face of Lestrange and a girl Hermione did not know.
"Well," Lestrange boomed, leaning against the staircase with a smile, "Don't you look dashing, Tom?"
Hermione could not help but laugh when he winked at Tom, earning himself a swift smack around the ear from the girl stood next to him which she found slightly alarming. Lestrange cried out, although they could all tell it was put on, and clutched his head, glaring at the girl who stared back in amusement.
She had long, black hair which hung perfectly straight behind her back. Her pale blue eyes shone with amusement at the young man beside her before she turned to Hermione and Tom.
"I do apologise for his behaviour, Tom," she said sincerely, "his training isn't going too well."
Tom laughed in response and introduced her to Hermione. The girl smiled at her, "Eileen Prince; pleased to meet you, Hermione."
The girls leaned forwards for a greeting kiss on the cheek.
Prince, Hermione thought, she must be Snape's mother. Now she looked closely at the girl, she could definitely see a few familiar features, namely the nose and pale complexion.
"Everyone else is through here," Lestrange perked up and dashed past the staircase and through another room with Eileen in toe.
Hermione and Tom held back for a moment as he noticed the look of worry on her face. "What's troubling you?" he asked, looking down at her with a look of concern on his face. Although she was not convinced by his "concern", she was grateful that he was asking and that at least someone was noticing her discomfort.
"I won't really know anyone here, Tom," she began quietly, trying to keep her voice down, "I feel dreadfully out of place."
She heard Tom sigh and then tighten his hold on her arm, "You and me both," he said quietly, "shall we proceed?"
The witch nodded, wondering about what he meant by what he had just said but deciding not to ask. They both entered a large, beautifully decorating room. It was a typical aristocratic room and one that recognised from her times with the Order. Although, it seemed as if it should have been filled with expensive artifacts; valuable paintings, grand sculptures and priceless vases. But it was practically empty.
Sensing her confusion, Tom said quietly, "Orion tends to empty the rooms on occasions such as this. Some of the boys can get a little messy when they drink."
Hermione smiled with amusement and her eyes scanned the busy room. She could pick out a few familiar faces, such as Abraxas Malfoy and Evan Rosier. To her disappointment, Orion was no where in sight and her little scan of the room did not go unnoticed by Tom who watched an expression of disappointment flit over her face. He chose to ignore it and led her into the room, walking over to Abraxas, Rosier and two other ladies they were stood with.
"Ah, Tom! Hermione!" Abraxas exclaimed, and the other three turned round. Hermione certainly did not miss a flash of glee flit over the face of one girl upon seeing Tom walking towards them.
Tom acknowledged the group of four before Abraxas leaned over to Hermione and took her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles, "It's wonderful to see you again, Hermione." he drawled.
She smirked and then said, "Oh, Rosie won't like you kissing my hand!"
Abraxas flushed, drawing away from her and straightening up, about to say something in reply but was interrupted by the other girl snapping, "Who's Rosie?!" and firing an accusing look in his direction, which made Abraxas pale further before his eyes glanced in panic at Evan.
From the corner of her eye she saw Tom's lips twitch in amusement before he led her away from the group, "Come. Let's get some drinks," he said, and she followed. It struck Hermione as odd that Tom would go and fetch his own drink; She was aware that the Black family had an army of house elves to do everything for them, so she was quite surprised to see none stood in the house. Perhaps Orion was more like Sirius than she thought.
"I think we may have caused a little argument there," Tom chuckled as they walked through another two more doors and found themselves in the kitchen.
Hermione agreed with amusement, "Who were those girls?" she asked, deciding not to mention her first impressions of them.
"Marla Lestrange and Genevieve Parkinson," Tom replied, "I would advise you don't get on their bad side, Hermione."
Somehow, the surname "Parkinson" did not surprise her. The girl did have quite a pug-face look about her; she must have been her grandmother. They were both rather nasty looking women, with nasty faces and scrunched up noses as if someone had smeared something unpleasant on their top lip. She had never forgotten the nasty things Pansy used to say to her at school; comparing her to a chipmunk, charming her teeth to grow even bigger and teasing her about her hair and blood status more times than she could remember. Hermione absolutely detested that girl and she always found it quite amusing that once the war was over, Draco completely ditched Pansy for one of the Greengrass sisters. She failed to remember which one; not that it made much difference to her.
"They don't strike me as the sort of girls I would choose to make friends with," Hermione sniffed, leaning against the work surface of the large kitchen. As much as she loved her little kitchen at home, this was the sort of kitchen one would find in a stately home. She felt immensely envious of Orion being brought up in a house like this, although she highly doubted he spent much time in the kitchen.
"Tom!" A voice suddenly cried from outside the room. Their eyes snapped to the entrance where a beaming Lestrange stood, beckoning Tom towards him. "I have someone I want to introduce you to!"
"It's fine," Hermione said, "you go and I'll get the drinks for when you come back." Tom nodded and asked for a pint of beer.
"I'll just be a minute, okay?" Tom said and then followed Lestrange from the room.
Hermione stood there, alone, for a few minutes just staring off into space. It then hit her just how lonely she felt; not just in that house, but in the wizarding world. At home she hardly saw anyone, but at least she knew there were people like Harry or Ginny she could just go and see for a bit of company. She realised that she didn't know anyone and had no one for company and for the first time since the Wizarding War, she wished that she could have Harry and Ron with her again as they used to be. She wanted her parents back, but Merlin, they weren't even born yet.
Leaning against the sink with both hands, Hermione took a deep breath, willing herself not to go into the state of mind she did after the war finished. She splashed her face with a little bit of water and then forced a smile on her face. People used to tell her that forcing herself to smile would automatically make her feel better; that had yet to be proven, but she did it nevertheless.
To take her mind off the thought of how her life used to be, Hermione decided to familiarise herself with the kitchen. The few parties she had been to in her own time, she found herself spending most of the night in the kitchen. She found it quite bizarre as she explored the kitchen; for a Pureblood family, they had a fair few muggle inventions. Hermione had never seen a fridge in a wizard home other than the Weasley's, they even had a kettle! Perhaps the Black family weren't as bad as she once thought, especially as they would not have had the influences from Voldemort at that time.
When she finished looking through the endless cupboards, draws and the pantry, she moved over to the refrigerator. After pulling a pint glass and a wine glass from the drinks cupboard, she rooted through the fridge until she came across a rather nice looking bottle of white wine and a can of muggle beer. She had never quite understood the difference between muggle alcohol and wizard alcohol.
Having poured the drinks, she then moved into the pantry to dispose of the empty can and returned the bottle of wine to the fridge, but as she turned to take a seat, the form of a man stood in the entrance of the kitchen caught her eye. She jumped in shock and a hand immediately flew to her beaded bag; over time it had become a reflex to move for her wand at almost any sign of danger and now was no exception.
She then sighed in relief as her eyes focused and she realised that the man stood in the door was not some murderer come to kill her, or a snatcher come to take her away to be tortured. No, it was just Orion, and Merlin, was she glad to see him.
"I wondered when I'd bump into you," Orion smirked, walking over to her and leaned down to plant a soft kiss on her hand.
"Thank goodness you've arrived," Hermione chuckled, taking a sip of her drink with a blush on her cheeks from the gentle kiss, "I was wondering if I'd be spending my night in here on my own."
Orion leaned against the work surface and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. Hermione had to admit, he looked quite dashing. "Yes," he began, looking her right in the eyes as he spoke, "I was only just told you had arrived, so I thought I might say hello."
"I'm glad you did," she blurted out before wincing; she did not want to sound desperate but the speed she had said those words, she wouldn't have been surprised if he was thinking that. "Thank you..." she said, casting her eyes down before smiling softly, "for the dress I mean; It's beautiful."
Orion nodded slowly with a twitch of his lips and appraised the dress with a satisfied expression. "No need to thank me, darling. It looks amazing on you," he said in a husky voice and moved to fiddle with his collar.
Hermione flushed considerably, feeling a little flustered at the the compliment. "I love it," She replied lowly and then with a little laugh, "You have a good taste in dresses, Orion."
"Why, thank you," he replied with a wink and poured himself a glass of fire whiskey.
Hermione frowned as she watched him knock the drink back before pouring himself even more. "Fire whiskey's a little strong, don't you think?" she muttered, tracing patterns on the wine glass with the tip of her finger.
Orion winced as the cool liquid burned down his throat and chuckled, "This might seem like a formal gathering, Hermione, but I fully intend to get a quite drunk."
Hermione nodded, feeling a little bit reluctant to be sharing a house with a crowd of drunk Slytherins.
"And so will you be," he said, turning back to her with a wink.
Hermione's eyes widened and she waved her arms in front of her in protest, "No, I'm not. I don't tend to get drunk."
"Oh, poppycock!" Orion exclaimed, laughing and took a seat at the kitchen table. He offered Hermione a seat beside him and she took it with a small smile on her face. Orion was now leaning closer towards the young witch, so close that she could smell his cologne radiating from him. She breathed in the scent and had to remind herself that this was Sirius' father so as not to lean in close to him! "Not even just a little bit drunk?" he said, his voice going one octave higher and a sweet smile plastered on his face.
Hermione laughed and leaned back in her chair, "Maybe." And when Orion went to do a little celebration fist pump she laughed again and exclaimed, "I said maybe," with a chuckle.
"Maybe is good for me!" he replied.
A content silence met them both. It was not an awkward silence though. It was quite calming, although Hermione was fully aware that Orion's eyes had still not left her face. And if she was honest, she quite liked the attention. It had been so long, years in fact, since she had received some attention from a member of the opposite sex that she had almost forgotten how nice it felt to be noticed, especially by someone as attractive as Orion. She could slowly feel her face heating up once again underneath the young man's intense gaze. It made her feel slightly exposed having him watch her as intently as he was, and so she took a tentative sip of her wine and placed it back on the table.
The silence was soon broken by Orion's low voice and her eyes snapped back up to his to find them fixed on the the glass of whiskey on the table.
"On a serious note though, Hermione," he began and then cleared his throat, "I am glad you decided to come..." he trailed off with a grimace, "I'm just annoyed that I didn't ask you first."
Hermione was not sure what to say to that, so she chose to say nothing. She was hardly going to say, "Yes, Orion is wish you had!" or "No, I prefer Tom, sorry." Unfortunately for Hermione, her silence was interpreted the opposite way of what she had intended.
"I get it if you...you know, like Tom in that way...If that's why you're not saying anything." he spluttered, not meeting her eyes but silently praying she would prove him wrong.
Hermione sighed after a small spark of surprise, "No," she chuckled, "I don't see Tom in that way. He just offered, so I accepted."
Orion nodded, his brown eyes meeting hers again. "I'm glad to hear that," he said seriously but couldn't hold back a small smile lighting up his face. "It's strange hearing that; you wouldn't believe how many girls there are chasing him."
"Well, he certainly knows how to charm a girl," she replied, "but I'm not one to fall at the feet of a handsome man."
"No," Orion replied, shaking his head and appraising her with a look of awe, "I don't think you are."
Hermione smiled at him then and jumped from her seat, knocking back her wine in one gulp and reaching out for his hand. He gave it to her willing and hoisted himself from his chair, quite liking the feel of her significantly smaller hand enclosed in his larger one.
"Come on," she said cheerfully, "we have to mingle at some point."
Orion quite enjoyed having Hermione tugging on his hand, leading him through the rooms until they reached the main living room where everyone stood socialising.
"Do you want to meet a few of my relatives?" Orion asked suddenly, releasing her hand and looping her arm through his and he looked down at her.
Hermione took a shaky breath and smiled, her eyes flitting around the busy room. She then nodded her head and accompanied him through the crowd, unaware that she was being carefully observed by another handsome, young wizard in the corner of the room.
To be continued.
So, there is the first part of the party! I'm considering spending another two chapters there as there are a few people to introduce and a few events to unfurl.
If I get the same amount of reviews on this one, I will kiss every single one of you! Metaphorically speaking haha. I've made this an extra long chapter, nearly three times as long as I would usually write because I want to start lengthening them.
I have two actors who I have decided fit Tom and Orion perfectly, so here they are:
Tom Riddle - Harry Lloyd
He's an English actor and very dashing: . /search?hl=en&site=imghp&tbm=isch&source=hp&biw=1366&bih=622&q=harry+lloyd&oq=harry+lloyd&gs_l=img.3..0l10.126.1945.0.2..523.7j1.8.0...0.0...1ac. 1. .7JuQgopTlKs#imgrc=a0Uio4WwVvCbpM%3A%3BQh7Hj5MlH7UIAM%3Bhttp%253A%252 F% .com%252Fimage%252F3492666% %3Bhttp%253A%252F% .com%252Fviewimage%252F3492666%3B600%3B600
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Orion Black - Eoin Macken
He's an Irish actor and is also, very dashing: . /search?hl=en&gs_rn=9&gs_ri=psy-ab&tok=ysSxvPVoBg2OhA-2V0nPpA&pq=sir+gawain+actor&cp=6&gs_id=1h&xhr=t&q=eoin+macken&bav=on.2,or.r_cp.r_qf.&bvm=bv.45175338,d.d2k&biw=1366&bih=622&wrapid=tljp1365855032199310&um=1&ie=UTF-8&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&tab=wi&ei=PEtpUf7lM8aX0QWX8IHoBg#imgrc=22T-QneAoWbywM%3A%3Bk3gUFnOo4osXTM%3Bhttp%253A%252 F% % %253Faid%253D126%3Bhttp%253A%252F% % %3B614%3B799
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So, thank you for reading! Leave me some feedback please and hopefully I'll be updating in a weeks time!
-Buckbeak