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Hermione Granger fixed the lapels of her fancy designer suit and adjusted the pin on her chest. Mr. Riddle seemed particularly impatient that morning after finding out that Susan Abbot has forgotten to print the documents for the merger for one of their clients, then someone spilled their coffee on him while he was ready to leave for an important meeting with the managing partner of their French branch.
She took a deep breath and grabbed the suit she had gotten from her tailor. It was a short notice request, and the man seemed baffled that Hermione wanted men's suit and didn't even have the proper measurements and wanted then and then. She had to explain that it was for her boss, and it was completely by her own initiation to get him a replacement suit for the meeting, because Mr. Riddle almost eviscerated Colin Creevey after the coffee incident, and she didn't want the poor intern to get kicked out.
She knocked on the door, holding the expensive silk garment bag up in the air, behind her back, to avoid having it brush over the floors.
"Come in" Mr. Riddle's gruff tone came from the office.
She opened the door and walked in. Riddle was still at his desk, working on the case for acquisitions and he was still wearing the coffee stained suit.
"Sir," she cleared her throat and walked up to his desk.
Riddle looked up and seeing her nodded. "Ms. Granger," he said with a sigh. "If you are here to plead for Mr. Creevey, his father already called me and asked me to keep him here. The incompetent boy is a pure embarrassment for the poor man. If only sons turned out the way we wanted them to turn out."
Hermione gave a strained smile. She had heard that Colin's father was well-connected, and he was interning at their law-firm after graduating due to his old man's connections and influence. She had also heard that Mr. Riddle's own son was returning that week from the States and had heard rumors that the two had a pretty bad relationship with one another.
"I have brought you a replacement suit for the meeting" she said, putting the suit on his desk, "I have printed the documents for the merger and had put together the paperwork from the court for the acquisition."
She put the stacks of paper on his desk. "Oh, here is your favorite coffee from that Italian place down the street," she put the mug on his desk as well.
She turned to leave only for Riddle to stop her. "Ms. Granger, you are truly magnificent. You didn't need to do any of this. We should have dinner sometime and talk about your future with us. Junior partnership and all."
Hermione nodded stunned and went for the doorknob. Before the man could change his mind, she wanted to leave his sight of vision.
"I am sorry to ask you this, but could you perhaps help me with something personal?" Mr. Riddle said, stopping her once again.
"Of course, Sir," she said turning around. "How can I help?"
"My son's intended will be here soon, could you perhaps take him to my office when he arrives? And try to keep it from the others."
Hermione's eyes widened. She had heard rumors about her boss's strange wife and some weird family tradition of arranged marriages. No one did these things anymore not even the ultra wealthy. Their kids usually married each other because they had their relationships in their own rich circles. Arranged marriage was strange. She had also heard this was the major disagreement between the Mr. Riddle and his son. This was going to be interesting. She really wanted to meet the girl that was good enough for a billionaire Tom Riddle Sr's son.
"I will make sure they feel welcome and taken care of, Sir," she said with a smile.
"Thank you," he said. "My son will arrive shortly after, but I am afraid he is not the best company for his betrothed."
Yes, it definitely was going to be interesting. She was so curious to meet this man's son and get a glimpse into what Riddle family was like, because everyone liked to talk about how insane the boss's wife was. Hermione couldn't deny that she was curious.
She nodded politely and left the office. Finding her desk, she picked up the phone and called the reception. "Ms. Brown, this is Granger, please let me know if a guest requests to see Mr. Riddle. I will see them."
"Mr. Riddle is taking an individual client?" Lavender Brown, the receptionist asked, excited for the gossip. "Is it a celebrity?"
"Ms. Brown," Hermione sighed. "Do I need to remind you of the NDA you have signed?
"Ugh, buzzkill," she murmured. "I was getting excited we are getting some fun clients. I will call you, don't worry."
Hermione hang up. She had no patience for Brown's gossip. She stared at the half-typed document on her screen. She was working on Alternative Dispute Resolution for a client, trying to avoid getting them in the court since the client wanted to avoid any public attention.
It was half an hour later that her phone buzzed. She clicked on the save button on the file she was working on and picked up the phone.
"Granger's office," she mumbled mechanically. "No... no thank you Ms. Brown. I will be there in a minute... No, just have them wait there. I will come down to meet our guest."
Mr. Riddle's son's fiancé was waiting downstairs. Hermione took a deep breath, made sure she looked presentable and walked out of her office to the elevator.
Hermione wasn't conventionally attractive, and she had always felt self conscious about it. She had been the high achiever at school, at university, at work. She was dating a football player who was the captain of a very popular football club with bunch rowdy, crazy fans. She knew Ron since they were kids, and she guessed he liked her because he knew her, most of his colleagues dated supermodels not lawyers working for a huge lawfirm in London specializing in cooperate law.
The goddamn gossip tabloids liked to make fun of her hair and her looks all the time, people in the comments viciously criticizing her looks and wondering why would the midfielder date such boring looking woman when he could have his pick. She had to file numerous defamation lawsuits against the newspapers to shut them up.
Ron was oblivious to all the gossip around them and didn't understand why Hermione avoided to make public appearances with him. In the recent months the narrative had changed to "dumb men like smart, successful women" and "you can't deny there is something very sexy about that lawyer lady". But people who had nothing to do with them cared so much about their relationship. It was maddening. Sometimes she visited his games and regretted it immediately.
These were noisy affairs, and Hermione was a studios person, not really cut for being in the public eye with a celebrity sportsman boyfriend.
The elevator doors opened, and she moved towards the reception area. And then her eyes caught a sight of a young man sitting on a sofa, and she paused in her tracks, staring mesmerized. Hermione had never seen someone quite this striking. He looked young, wearing a custom made suit that underlined his slim body and had the most vivid green eyes she had ever set her eyes on.
There were two other men with him standing behind him and on his side. They looked like bodyguards. The young man caught sight of Hermione and got up, waving at her with a gentle smile on his lips.
Hermione stared completely confused, and then she remembered that Mr. Riddle asked to meet him. She was expecting a supermodel or a wealthy heiress - someone she had seen on the news before perhaps. She felt awkward.
"Ma'am" one of the bodyguards approached her. "Is the parameter secured?"
"Um... what?" Hermione stared at the man confused. "Yes, we have security here, Sir."
"Savage," the other one waved his hand. "Stop breaking the secrecy statues. Just take measures to ensure it's safe, set up wards."
The beautiful man smiled and extended his hand to Hermione. "I am Harry. I am here to meet Mr. Riddle."
ㅤ
Tom read over the email and clicking on the send button, shut his laptop. The plane was landing soon. He was irritated and exhausted, spending the last 7 hours in the plane, flying from New York to London for a goddamn family obligation. If only his spineless father had the guts to put an end to this nonsense. Tom was never particularly close to the man. They were always at odds, and he left for the States at the first opportunity to start his own life away from his father's overreaching hands and his mother's constant nagging.
He had bult a successful life for himself. He had his own law firm and lived his life the way he wanted. And then his father reached out asking him to come back to London to meet with his intended, arranged by his maternal family, part of him wanted to tell his father to shove it. After all, Tom didn't need anything from Riddle Sr. But his father threatened to cut off his inheritance. While Tom didn't need any money, he couldn't simply let the old git to scrape his name off of his massive wealth. His father was one of the most powerful men in Britain. He was the head of a enormous multinational law firm with several branches around the world.
Tom didn't need the money, but that didn't mean he was going to let the old man deprave him of what he deserved just because his father had no guts to tell his maternal uncle and grandfather to fuck off. He had no idea why his father would agree to an arranged marriage for Tom, and especially one arranged by those two nutcases.
He avoided his mother's side of the family. They were bunch of inbreeds, and he had no desire to be associate with him. Tom often wondered why his good looking, successful father married his mother. She was nether attractive nor came from a distinguished family. It seemed odd, but he wasn't going to complain since he owed his existence to whatever caught his father's fancy in his mother.
Merope Riddle was terrified of her father and even after years of living apart from them and being married to Tom's father, she dutifully did whatever grandfather asked him. She was giving them money and trying to get his crazy uncle out of trouble constantly. Tom would have cut his ties off with them long time ago. But even his father seemed a little wary of them.
From what Tom knew his grandfather swore to kill his father for stealing and sullying his mother with his dirty muggle blood, whatever that meant. Tom had given up on understanding the crazy bunch a long time ago. His grandfather claimed that the only reason he didn't kill Tom Sr was because of Tom's birth and the promise that he will be wed to someone worthy. And now he was back to London to meet this worthy person.
He reasoned it didn't really matter who his crazy family chose for him. If he needed to marry them to secure the wealth, he would, of course with prenuptial agreements signed and secured first. He was going to drop whatever country bumpkin the old geezer picked as soon as he could.
The staff was already picking his luggage as the plane has landed. Tom got up, put on his sunglasses and existed the plane. Barty Crouch Jr was already waiting for him. Another unfortunate soul forced to carry his father's name. Maybe that's why they bonded despite Barty's nervous and eccentric personality.
"Welcome back," Barty greeted him with a handshake and helped one of the workers to get Tom's luggage into the car.
"Thank you Barty," Tom said with a polite smile even though he didn't have any patience left for pleasantries.
The car ride was silent at first, but then Barty interrupted the silence cleaning his throat.
"Didn't think you would come back," he said with a smile.
"I didn't really have a choice," Tom said with a sigh. "My father is a coward and agreed to sell me off to satisfy Gaunt's crazy antics."
"Do you know who you are going to marry?" Barty asked cautiously.
"No," Tom shook his head. "It really doesn't matter though does it. If it was my father's idea, I would guess a business partner's daughter, but my grandfather and uncle? Have you met them? Nutcase degenerates. I am pretty sure they are some creepy cultists. All I know is that they know the family, and it's Potter family's only child."
Barty froze. "Potter family?"
"You know them?" Tom raised an eyebrow unconvinced.
"Yes," Barty gulped in bunch of air like he was having a hard time breathing. "I know them, Tom. They are very strange, but they don't have a daughter. They have a son. He is very young. Barely nineteen."
"Sounds about right knowing my mother's family I shouldn't expect anything but something disturbing. Maybe they have a daughter stashed away somewhere. These people are nutjobs. You should see my grandfather's precious ancestral library filled with books on occult and some unhinged shit written by Salazar Slytherin, my mother's great ancestor."
A/N: Please let me know if you are enjoying this storyline and concept. I wanted to delve into some new Tomary horizons. hahah Tom has no idea what's going to happen.