Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling.

III.

"How's Harry?"

Ginny hummed, focused on polishing her toenails. "When I spoke to him last, on Tuesday, he was fine. I'm supposed to fly out to meet him tomorrow- he has the weekend off in Morocco." She glanced up to grin and wiggle her eyebrows at Hermione, who smiled back.

"Must be nice."

"'Bout as nice as it is being married to a footballer, girl," she laughed dryly, shaking her head as she finished her nails. "At least you can wear miniskirts and go dancing and generally not care.

"Life fucking sucks now that I'm 'dating' Prince Harry."

"Well, you can blame Ronald for that one."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah. How is my brother, anyway? Mum tells me he hasn't been by in weeks."

"He's fine. You know how he gets around this time."

"Of course. He's off the grid."

"Yeah-listen. I need you opinion on something a bit odd."

Ginny set her polish on the coffee table and looked over at Hermione with sparkling green eyes.

"I meet a guy whose clock never started."

"What?"

"He has a clock. I saw it. I touched it. It looks exactly like anyone else's, it just…doesn't work, Gin."

"So, what? It's just blank? Just zeros?"

Hermione sighed. "You know how stopwatch just has those little vertical bars? Before you click it on, I mean. Right-that's what it looked like."
Ginny grabbed her glass of wine off the table, kicking her feet up. "And I thought it sucked not having one," she murmured, looking at her bare inner wrist before downing the white. "I feel so sad for him. Who is he?"

"Tom Riddle."

Ginny choked. "Green eyed, curly haired Tom Riddle?"

"I suppose, Ginny. I don't know. It's a pretty common name."

"He's beautiful, Hermione."

"Well, yes. He was quite handsome. Quite charming. Do you know him?"

Her eyes were wide, a half smile on her lips. "I can't believe he's still around."

"How do you know him?"

"Freshman year at Edin, I went to a party I shouldn't have been at- Harry was supposed to be there, and I was still working on him, remember? Anyway, Riddle was there. He's…goodness, me. I can't believe it. I always thought my heart would pound and stomach would knot when I heard his name again. I can't believe it."

"You loved him? I don't get it."

"No. No, no, no. I was infatuated, but it's always been Harry, Hermione. I just…wow. Riddle. That's quite sad to learn." She leaned forward and filled both of their wine glasses to the brim. "You shouldn't hang out with him, you know? You're a married woman. He…he's a guy that God couldn't even fate."

Hermione started at hearing those words again.

Downing her wine, she resolved to contact him.

IV.

HW: Tom?

TR: Dream girl?

She waited, her heart pounding and palms hot.

HW: Please don't do that.

TR: My apologies, Ms. Granger. Would you like to meet for dinner?

She dropped her phone on the counter, looking around her home for a sign. There wasn't one. She tugged at her curls.

TR: You may pick the time and place.

You'd feel better if this was on your terms, right?

She left her phone on the counter, making herself a cup of tea before using the house phone to call her therapist. She didn't pick up.

HW: Hubbard & Bell. One hour.

She turned off her phone as soon as she saw that he'd read the message.

# # #

"Should I call you a taxi?"

She finished her wine, and he poured her half a glass more of the Cabernet. "No. I have a friend that lives nearby."

"Oh," he commented, obviously disbelieving.

She sighed. "My sister in law, Ginny, lives just down the road."

His brows rose. "Ginevra Weasley?" He asked, almost fondly.

She was embarrassed by the jealousy that pulsed through her.

"Yes. I suppose she would be your in-law. How is she?"

"Good."

He frowned before saying, "You don't plan on driving, do you?"

"I'm not allowing you to take me anywhere, if that's what you're thinking."

He chuckled, reaching across the table. She was sure he'd touched her hand. Prayed it, even; she hated herself desperately for it, too. Instead of touching her, though, he took a truffle fry from one of the plates they were sharing.

Hermione took a few bites of her salad before saying, "She warned me away from you."

He smiled. "I'd never hurt you."

Hermione felt her heart stutter and skip. It was unreal. She needed to leave. She needed to get away from him. She'd made a huge mistake.

She couldn't move. "You hurt her?"

"No. Ginevra was very much in love when we met."

He politely left out that she'd also been a wild child, but the thought danced in his –god, they were green; deep and dark like a summer woodland- eyes briefly.
"You've told your husband, too, then?"

Hermione blinked. "Told him what?"

His brows rose. "About me."

She brushed her hair behind her ears, suddenly feeling incredibly warm. She blamed it on the wine. "You know Ronald?"

"God, no." He actually seemed repulsed. "If your husband was a friend of mine, Ms. Granger, we wouldn't be here right now."

"Why?"

He sat back, studying her curiously. "One could say it's for the same reason you haven't told him about us."

"Tom. There is no 'us.' There is nothing for me to tell him. We aren't doing anything."

"Alright. I should get you to your sister in law's though, before we not do anything more."

"I'm sure we're both competent enough to act appropriately."

He smiled, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Perhaps you are, Ms. Granger."

She glanced at her watch before finishing her wine. They'd been talking for two hours. "I…it's strange, isn't it? I was so sure of myself, of my relationship before we met. And now, so suddenly, I'm so uncertain. I'm confused."

Tom seemed pensive before saying, "Sometimes that who you believe to be your soul mate works better as a close friend. Also, it isn't uncommon for people to grow apart, or to be better apart."

She poured herself another glass of wine. "I'm Hermione Weasley. I don't give up."

"That isn't what I'm suggesting."

"Are you sure?" She sipped her wine. "Because that's what sounds like."

"Fine. Perhaps I am suggesting that you bow out of your marriage. But, don't think of it as losing something. Think of it as uniting with someone who can offer you more."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Was that too forward?" He asked, but it was obvious he didn't care if it was.

"A bit, Tom. A lot, really. I can't…I don't understand what you think you could offer me. I don't need-"

He leaned forward, eyes devouring her with their intensity. "You don't anyone, right? Your husband included."

She sighed. "What do you want from me?"

He smiled briefly. "The same thing you want from me, Ms. Granger."

She had a hard time believing him, because she had no idea what she wanted, and he seemed as though he knew everything in the world. Downing the rest of her wine, she said, "I can get to Ginny's on my own, thank you."

"I'm not letting you drive yourself to wherever she lives. I won't be responsible for your death."

Hermione laughed, brushing her hair out of her face. "It won't look good if I'm just dropped out, Tom. I can't-"

"I'll drive your car and come back for mine."

She was out of excuses. It wasn't like Ginny was home anyway.

He left money on the table –too much, but she didn't mention it. She just let him drive her to Ginny's.

# # #

TR: Would you like to continue doing nothing every 7th?

For the first time in years, she felt her heart firm and warm in her chest. She thought to herself: is this love, Hermione?

But, she didn't reply, and he ordered his books his books via post.