A/N - I feel the need to remind that this is a drabble. Thanks for reading!


III.

"I told Dumbledore I was seeing you."

She'd noticed that he didn't bother with gelling his hair back in the summer, and as he looked up at her, he flicked his curls out of her eyes, a smirk on his lips. She realized that he was teasing her before he even opened his mouth.

"You told him about us?" He propped his elbow on the table and his jaw in his palm. "How did old man Albus take it?" He paused for a second, eyelids lowering and smirk softening, "His sweet little lioness-"

"Shut up, Riddle," she told him, unable to stop the tremble she felt in her chest. She was sure he noticed her shaking, and tried not to feel embarrassed as she wondered how she'd gone six years without realizing how low his voice could get.

He chuckled, leaning back in her seat as he checked his watch. "Well? What did he say?"

"He warned me against you, obviously."

"Obviously," he repeated, eyes narrowing darkly.

Hermione could tell he wanted to say more, but he didn't. She fiddled with the feathered end of her quill and quietly asked, "Should I be worried?"

She didn't have to look up to know that he was just staring. He watched her for so long that she swore she broke out in hives along her neck. When she couldn't take it anymore, she looked back up at him, nails across her collar.

"You know what I want from you, Hermione," he told her lowly. His eyes seemed to trap her.

Somehow, she managed not to jerk. She didn't even budge, actually. "What do I get out of this?"

His brows rose, as though he hadn't expected her to ask. He licked his lips. "Security," he shrugged. "Freedom."

She tried to laugh.

"But, should you decline," he said it as though he really didn't expect her to.

She hated him for it. He didn't know her. He shouldn't have even felt comfortable giving her that damned book.

"You have nothing to worry or fear, little witch. I promise."

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They started meeting for lunch, not that either ate. They had black tea as they studied, mostly in silence. Sometimes, he'd bounce ideas off of her, as though he was testing her. Other times, she laid into him for dabbling in things he didn't understand –things he couldn't understand, regardless of how intelligent he believed himself, because he just wasn't old enough yet.

"Don't be stupid," she'd say, leaning toward him in an almost pleading fashion.

His eyes always flashed. Hungry and needy and pleased.

"You're too smart. You're worth too much."

"You think so," he'd ask, looking away from her briefly.

It was oddly endearing, but she sighed tiredly anyway. "Don't be anymore stupid than you've already been."

"I've done everything with great consideration."

She looked at his ring. He didn't hide it.

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"Why are you researching cups?"

He blinked at her, as though he hadn't expected her to truly have been paying attention to him. "It's rude of you to ask."

"Uh-huh," she licked her lips. "I think it was rude of you to drop by my department during closed-shift hours last Friday, Riddle, but I've not complained or reported you."

He offered her a gentle smile- too soft and too perfect for Hermione to even buy it. "It's…confidential. For now."

"For now?" She hated her curiosity.

"Decide. Decide and I may be able to tell you."

His eyes were wide and inviting, just enough charm and desire and intrigue filling them to tempt her. And, she considered it. She really did. But went back to her work instead.

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"Do you really have nothing to do today, Granger?"

As always, he did not look up from his work. His papers were in neat stacks on the table, his books set up smartly around him. Her side of the table was empty of everything but her elbows.

"Plenty, actually."

He hummed in acknowledgment. "Don't let me hold you back, love."

"Don't call me that."

"Noted."

Silence stretched on until he finally sighed and set his quill to rest in his stand. "I'll die if you stare any longer."

He was joking. He was flirting. She pursed her lips.

"I doubt that," she replied quickly. At his raised brow she said, "I want to know what you're up to, Riddle. And I want the truth."

His face, which had been previously lit with a humorous gaze, turned to stone. "Granger," he warned. It was the closest he'd ever gotten to suggesting that he was up to anything.

She knew, though. She'd known for a while.

She pulled a black journal from her bag and set it on the table. She watched him stare at it for a long time before he finally reached, fingers stroking the leather fondly.

His ring glinted.

She touched it.

"How long have you had this?"

"Long enough."

He met her gaze. Asked quietly, "Keep it safe for me?"

She knew better.

She put it back in her bag, anyway.

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"Why do you think Grindelwald and Dumbledore can't overpower each other?" He asked, his tone suggested that it had nothing to do with anything.

She knew better. Looking up from her work, she put her pen down and narrowed her eyes in thought.

"They are supposed to be incredible. Supreme wizards. Yet, they can not best each other."

She considered his words. What he wanted from her. How willing she'd realized he was when it came to doing what was needed to get what he wanted. Licking her lips, she asked, "You're suggesting we do this so that we can't get in each other's way?"

He shrugged.

She tugged her bottom lip into her mouth before saying, "You're sick, Riddle."

Her voice was barely a whisper, and his eyes were dark and empty as he watched her.

"I'm not going to fucking join my soul to yours- to share life and magic and not to mention the fact that we have to have sex with each other," she cringed, her skin crawling. Something told her it wasn't disgust, and she ignored it.

"All to ignore each other? To just...be more? What is the point of being stronger and better if you can't share it?

"They're nothing without each other, you've all but beat that idea into me since we started this summer. And now you're suggesting we do the same thing they did? Where is the sense?"

He was quiet. Watching her. Waiting. She had nothing more to say to him.

There was nothing more she could say, without throwing it all away.

"Please stop coming to my department. My mentor has noticed I disappear and I really can't keep coming up with excuses. I'm trying to build a reputation, to get a job here when I graduate. I can't have you hanging around –not knowing what I do now."

"You'll get the job," he told her, nodding his head before returning to his work.

Hermione watched him for a few minutes before getting up to leave.

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They didn't see each other again until the first day of term.