A/N: Many many thanks to YouCanOnlyPretend who beta-read this chapter, and all previous. You are fabulous!
In the evening, Harry entered the hospital wing with delicious food and beverages. He had nearly everything with him. Silently he sat beside Riddle and gave Hermione different hot sandwiches.
"I didn't know what you'd like to eat…" He began talking and smiled at her. "Do you feel better?" His voice sounded soft and worried. Hermione looked into one of the bags and nodded slowly. She took one with meat and onions and bit into it while she gave Riddle the other sandwich. He looked to her for a long time, too long, more than Harry could care for.
And the three of them ate peacefully, Hermione added nonchalant: "You're an asshole, Evans, you know that?" "You nearly drowned me!" Harry insulted. Thomas Riddle stopped eating and looked at the woman in front of him in utter shock. He never had heard a witch talking like that before.
"But I didn't!" Hermione defended her doing and bit one more into the sandwich. Afterwards she smiled at him. That was the moment Harry pated her affectionately.
"You're a couple," Riddle said voiceless. He was somehow irritated, somehow disappointed. How could a man hurt his beloved woman in such an awful way?
"No, we aren't," Hermione interrupted his thoughts and offered him another sandwich. "Just friends" Harry's voice sounded warm.
They were still sitting with Hermione and chatting a little about the last days, the homework — Hermione's favourite topic — and then it was time. Riddle stood up and looked at the small, graceful witch and said: "Thank you for everything. Get well soon."
Then he turned. He heard her voice, calm and hesitatingly. "Thank you Mr. Riddle. Good night."
He didn't stop to watch her, nor did he turn, he just added, "Tom, sleep well." The wizard opened the door and left.
As soon as the door closed, he leaned against it in shock. What had he done? How could he offer her calling him Tom? Not Thomas, but Tom. He was the Head-Boy and even she should pay him respect — not in a familiar way…
Another few minutes passed and Harry looked at her. "Are you dumb or something?" Harry said harshly and looked daggers at her. Hermione wasn't amused. Her look was nearly as cold as his. As she obviously had nothing to say, he added: "Why are you nice to him?"
"He didn't do anything to me, not yet. Just talking. And it's nothing bad about that! And unlike you he didn't hurt me!" As Harry heard that, her loud and angry voice, he stood up wished her a good night before he rushed out of the room.
Hermione watched the shut door. And if she didn't know it better, she would have think that Harry was jealous. The sort of jealousy he showed when Ginny was flirting with Dean Thomas ages ago. In that single moment, her old past seemed like a faded memory that hardly had happened.
The days passed by and Hermione was standing on the top of the astronomy tower and watched the stars. She didn't know how late it was and she didn't care at all. The night was just beautiful, beautiful and cold. The witch snuggled up automatically in the gown and her scarf. The wind blew her hair out of her face, and for a second she closed her brown eyes.
It was as if time stood still. As if Hermione was captured in the beauty of the moment — of entireness.
She inhaled the cold air and just listened to the calm of the night.
"You're not allowed to be here at that time of day!" A cold voice sneered angrily and Hermione's eyes flew open.
"Riddle," her lips formed and she tensed instantly. She heard his steps and how he came closer to her.
"Curfew time started half an hour ago", His voice seemed a little bit softer, but Hermione didn't dare looking at him.
"Really?" she breathed in disbelief. Riddle nodded slowly and grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. "You're as cold as this wind…" Seymour mumbled as she looked into his grey resolute eyes. She knew he wouldn't tolerate any discussion.
"The wind isn't cold at all," he informed her and stroked back a flick of her curly hair.
"Oh, it is, but you don't feel it," Hermione insisted.
"And you're still here," he changed the topic. Out of a sudden, Hermione was totally aware of how close he was to her and she blushed involuntarily. Tom smiled softly. "So what are you doing here in the deeps of the dark night?" His voice sounded still cold and determining.
"Thinking," Hermione mumbled confused.
She gave this situation another try and asked politely: "Could I stay a few more minutes?"
"No." He didn't like to play around with her. He wanted to go to bed early and not chase schoolmates until midnight.
"May I show you something to cheer you up?" Hermione smiled at him and he rolled his eyes.
"Okay…" The witch smiled even more and he let off of her.
"Close your eyes," she said patiently and he rolled his eyes again. "And fold your hand as if you would pray."
Riddle eyes flew open and he looked angrily at her. "Dare making a joke!" his voice sounded as cold as the wind felt on her skin.
Hermione immediately froze. "Please, trust me!" she requested hightly and touched his hands. The witch never imagined that such a situation would ever happen. The future Dark Lord stood beside her and did what she asked for. For a moment she shook her head and then she closed her eyes too.
Riddle waited and felt her soft hands lying on his. As he wanted to open his eyes, he felt warmth from inside. It grew with a little flame of light. He noticed Hermione in front of him, not because of her hands, but because of her magic.
Although his eyes were shut, everything turned bright. For a single moment, Tom thought he was standing at the beach, a warm breeze touching his skin and the waves brushing his feet. He automatically grabbed after Hermione's hands — well he would, but she didn't let him unfold his fingers.
"Seymour," his voice broke the silence.
"Just a second," she begged and as he heard her saying 'please' he deeply inhaled the fresh air.
After a few more seconds he listened to her voice again. "Are you ready?" Then the witch stepped away from him and he looked at her. Riddle knitted his brow for a second, then he frowned. That was just a stupid trick!
"Open your hands," Hermione pleaded as she realized that he wasn't delighted.
Tom glared at her before he followed her instructions. Butterflies out of light were sitting on his hands. Two started flying and Riddle watched surprised at them. "Beautiful…" he murmured and looked back at Hermione again with a gentle smile on his lips. The butterflies were dancing in the air and lightened the dark night up. That was the moment Hermione ran to the stairs.
"Good night Mr. Riddle."
"Tom", he corrected, but as he turned she was vanished into thin air.
He made a decision: Ravenclaw wouldn't lose any house points, not because of that present, not because of that memory. Not because of her behaviour.
During breakfast Hermione was busy eating her scrambled eggs and reading the newspaper. She set with her back to Slytherin Table and couldn't see that Riddle was watching her. "Would you be so kind and give me the coffee pot?" Hermione raised her head and looked into deep blue eyes of a handsome face. The wizard smiled at her and for a moment she asked herself why he didn't used his magic, but then she gave it to him wordlessly.
"Thank you! Have you ever heard that you are brilliant?" he asked politely and Hermione answered truthfully:
"Often." His smile rose. "May I introduce myself: I'm Raedwulf Davies." Hermione shook his hand and wanted to add something, but Raedwulf interrupted her: "I already know your name, the whole school does." This was the moment Hermione blushed.
"Really?" the witch wanted to bite her tone, what a stupid question.
Then he giggled. They did not notice that Evans and Riddle glared at both of them.
"Yeah, it was quite impressive how you proved the teacher to be wrong in Potions," Raedwulf giggled even more and Hermione's cheeks turned even more red. "Well, I — I want to go to the library," she stammered and stood up.
"Okay, see you later." He smiled at her. She looked confused at him. "I'll go to the library later," Raedwulf had the need to explain the situation, because out of a sudden, it felt awkward. Hermione nodded and turned to leave.
At the stairs Hermione heard her name, but the voice wasn't familiar to her. She stopped and looked at a dark-haired man who wore the Slytherin emblem. She waited patiently and smiled a little. That was the moment, he smiled back.
"If you smile at everyone that way, you'll make the men crazy," he said and stepped closer.
"Pardon?" The witch looked like a doe caught in the headlights and stepped back a little.
"Are you aware that next weekend is the first possibility to go to Hogsmeade?" the man asked in a self-confident tone and looked at her.
"Maybe?" Hermione mumbled. He smiled again. "I would feel honoured if you would go with me."
Seymour stared at him totally shocked. His eyes narrowed and then he took her hand and kissed it.
Hermione stood there still paralysed. Then reality caught her up again. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't expect you to ask me out, but of course I would love to, Mr—?"
"Lestrange." His smile rose and then he stepped back. "I'll show you what else you could love…or maybe who," was just one thought. Hermione felt her blood rushing through her veins, hearing her heart ringing in her ear. That was a nightmare! What had she done?
"Your books," he said, remembering her to go to the library. And then she started running upstairs.
He smiled even more and thought: "How shy…"
"A date with Seymour?"
Lestrange heard a familiar warm voice and he confirmed still smiling. "Yes, isn't she gorgeous?" Then he turned his head. Riddle was standing there and looked daggers at him. Lestrange harrumphed and straightened his back. "I don't care if you like it, me dating a Ravenclaw."
"No, I don't like you dating especially her." Riddle informed him coldly and left with a hurry. He wanted to go to his rooms, making homework and Head-Boy's stuff.