Hermione straightened her robes as she stared at the door. It was an hour before curfew and she was finally finished with her duties. As one of the two newest Gryffindor prefects she had had to help the first years before left to her own devices. Then there was the division of labor for typical duties, giving the boys their study schedules (Ron had summarily shoved his away and Harry had done her the courtesy of pretending to be interested; she had reminded him that he was a prefect now too and he had to present himself as such).
After telling herself there were no more excuses, she rapped on the wooden office door. It opened of its own accord, revealing the small, neat space of her favorite professor.
"Hermione." Tom Riddle smiled, his dark eyes sparkling at the girl as she stepped inside. The door shut behind her with a flick of his hand. "Sit, please. How was your summer?"
She blushed under the scrutiny of his gaze as it slid down to the shiny new badge. "It was fine, though I'm happy to be back. As always."
"Looking forward to studying for your OWLs, I presume?" He chuckled, the warmth of it trickling like hot chocolate to her stomach. Had professor Riddle always been so blindingly handsome? She was sure he had, though the effect of his presence seemed magnified somehow. "Now, I've looked over the notes you sent. I rather like the idea of more advanced students working with those who could use more work on their defense abilities. And while I assume it will often fall along year lines, this will also reinforce the abilities of those who are ahead of their peers. And perhaps encourage those lagging behind to push forward."
The praise lanced through her and she shrugged. "I just… well, I've seen some of the seventh years in practice and some could use work."
"I quite agree."
Hermione shifted in her seat. "And, erm, our private lessons, Professor?"
"How would you feel about Saturdays? I know they are your free days, but that would give us a bit more freedom from constraints."
Her jaw gaped. "Oh, no, I would love that! I mean." She flushed down to her chest. "There's no other way I'd like to spend my free time than, than, ah, studying. Bettering myself academically."
His lips twitched. "I'm sure. Shall we begin this weekend then?" She nodded eagerly. "I'll want to test your abilities at first, gain a proper understanding of where you are, sweetheart. While your theoretical understanding is perhaps beyond my seventh years, I've yet to fully assess your practical capabilities."
The endearment nearly made Hermione faint. He'd called her that before, hadn't he? Was it appropriate? Then again, Professor McGonagal regularly called her students things like "dear," so why was this any different?
"I know my practical abilities could use some work, but I've never been afraid of working hard," she said evenly.
"That I know quite well." He studied her quietly for a beat. "Tell me, will your… group of boys be joining the club?"
"The boys?" She blinked, brows twitching together. "Well, Draco is almost as studious as I am; I'm honestly surprised he wasn't in Ravenclaw instead of Hufflepuff… though he should have been a Slytherin." She shook her head free of that line of thought, Lucius Malfoy flashing through her mind in grim warning. "But the others? Well, Harry has it in his mind to be an Auror like his father, so he definitely will. And ROnald follows Harry, so I suppose he's in as well. And Neville, well, he could use the help, though he's really growing into his own lately. A little more confidence and I think he'd actually be quite a strong wizard."
"Oh." The professor lifted one of his perfect brows. "I wasn't aware Mr. Longbottom was a member of your little crew."
"He is a good friend; I help him in potions; he's dreadfully afraid of Professor Snape- oh, please don't let on that you know, sir, he'd be mortified!" She clapped her hand over her mouth before removing it to plead with the man.
"No worries, darling. I think it's obvious in any case; Longbottom is not the bravest Gryffindor, is he?" Riddle patted her hand. "You are a kind young woman, to take him under your wing. Now, you should probably get to bed early if you want to get your usual early start tomorrow, hm?"
She pulled her attention away from where his cool long-fingered hand laid over her own much smaller. "Oh, yes. Well, thank you so much for meeting with me, Professor."
"Tom," he corrected.
"What?"
"Tom. If we are to be working together, it's only fitting that you address me by name, yes? In private only, of course." There was something sharp and tense lingering between them suddenly and Hermione could hardly breathe, but she nodded obediently.
"Yes. Tom," she repeated softly. "Well, er, goodnight, Tom."
"Goodnight, Hermione."
"You're getting tutored on a Saturday? You're absolutely barmy, Mione," tutted the redhead.
"Some of us enjoy bettering ourselves, Ronald," she responded coolly as she applied butter to her toast. "Besides, learning straight from Professor Riddle one-on-one? It's practically a dream come true."
"Ah, yes, Professor Riddle," came a voice behind her. "He's just the dreamiest, innit he, Freddie?"
"Too right, Georgie. Why, he's even more handsome than Viktor Krum."
Her doe-brown eyes narrowed as a hand swept in to pluck the apple from her plate. "I just wish he'd pay me the same attention. You know, I tried for months last year to catch his eye and all i got was a lousy detention with Filch."
"Alas, George, he has eyes only for our Hermione."
"If you're done mocking me," she said, head held high, "perhaps you'd like to know that the reason Professor Riddle is tutoring me is so I can help him in my role as student assistant for the defense club he's starting this year."
"Student assistant!" one gasped.
"The absolute honor, higher even than prefect."
"Can you imagine, George?"
"Not in my wildest."
"Are you two going to be joining? We'll be having dueling tournaments throughout the year and everything," she informed.
The twin with her apple shrugged. "Dunno. We kinda have our own thing going on this year, Mione," he said around a chunk of half masticated pulp.
Harry groaned beside her. "Just please don't do whatever it is around us. I'm a bloody prefect this year and I'd rather not have to explain to mum why I'm the first in history to get demoted."
The twin without the apple shook his head in disappointment. "The absolute shame of it, the child of the Great and Noble Prongs not involved in Gryffindor mischief."
"Well," said the other, nudging his twin. "Not openly." They shared a smile before winking at the bespectacled boy.
"Harry," Hermione warned.
"Yeah, yeah," he griped. "I promise I won't get in too much trouble this year. And I won't leave you doing all the work either, I guess."
It was a well known fact among the friends of Harry Potter that his father was one of the legendary Marauders, heroes to all mischief makers at the school. His godfather was another, and their family friend Remus Lupin was yet a third. Only Hermione, Ron, and Harry himself knew that the latter was a werewolf however; she hadn't even told Draco. She'd guessed it while staying with the Potters for a week over one summer and Harry had begged her to keep it quiet, so she had.
"Harry's going to be in the group," she told the twins. "And Ron too."
"Really, Ronnikins? Following in Perce's footsteps after all?"
"Sod off," he retorted, shrugging off the hand messing his hair.
"Some of us actually care about our futures," she said.
George (at least she thought it was George) laid a hand on his chest. "We take offense to that, Granger. Freddie and I care very much."
"Yeah." Fred puffed himself up. "It just so happens that mischief is our future."
She frowned. "What does that mean?"
The twins turned to one another, communicating with brow twitches and eye movements. "We've said too much," said one.
"We will be going now," said the other.
And off they went.
Hermione shook her head. Those two were going to be the death of Molly Weasley at the rate they were going.
"Right, well," said Ron once his brothers had disappeared. "What've we got first this morning?"
"History of Magic," Hermione said evenly. Both boys groaned. "Oh, buck up. You have Divination after lunch, so you'll be able to skive off then."
"That's not bad then." He perked up.
"Double potions before lunch, though, mate," Harry pointed out. Ron's bubble burst and the fellow Gryffindor attempted to sink into his robes in misery.
"Double Defense to end the day," Hermione sang.
"Yeah, yeah," the dejected boy grumbled. "Let's get this over with then."