July 24, 1942
He eyed the hand warily before returning the gesture.
"Not fond of mudbloods?"
Tom gave his first genuine smile of the night. "No."
Not exactly.
"Just not fond of you."
She cackled, "That's what they all say… before they get to know me."
"You're saying, I'll get to know you? As in I have to talk to you more?" He half-joked, half lamented.
"Oh but of course, Mister Riddle. I wouldn't pass a chance at being on a first-name basis with Hogwart's very own sweetheart."
Tom scoffed, "A troublemaker like you, friendly with a soon-to-be prefect? Right," he finished blandly.
"I'm not a troublemaker! I'm an angel! Just check my oh-so-perfect grades or my squeaky clean record!"
Perfect grades? I'll have to look into that.
"I don't need to, you curse up and down the halls, you're as rowdy as can be."
"I'm friendly," rolled her eyes.
Impudent more like it.
"And fun!"
More like fun to break.
He smirked.
"You really want to be friends?"
"Why not? You seem interesting enough."
He bristled slightly at the presumption. As if he needed to be anything to meet someone else's requirements.
Though… being interesting was not the worst thing to be called.
"And a girl can never have enough friends," she bat her eyes mockingly. She straightened suddenly, however, eyes hard.
Odd.
She frowned, "I won't mess with any of your buddies though, they suck." She grimaced from what he assumed was a memory. "It's a curious thing you turned out so different, Tom Riddle. Just like they said you would."
Different hm?
And my knights, my knights are making a bad name for themselves. He clenched his teeth. He'd have to work on teaching them subtlety- or at least a good memory charm or two. The hard way, he grinned internally.
He set his focus back on the girl in front of him.
"Who's they?" He cocked his head.
"Everyone," she shrugged. "They sing your praises, some judge you for the company you keep but most people see you as a separate entity entirely. The perfect wizard, the great Tom Riddle."
He hummed at her words.
People were usually too scared or too polite to let him hear the truth of things. This girl- Hermione wasn't.
"Do you judge me? For the company I keep?"
"Yes," she said without hesitation. "You don't need them-"
He almost smiled again.
"-they need you. I see the way they simper after you, the sorry lot. You'd go a longer way without them," she nodded to herself, proud of her assessment.
"Well, that's for me to decide, isn't it?" He raised a brow at her.
She nodded warily.
"But I see where you're coming from."
She relaxed, relieved with his answer.
He did see where she was coming from. Had always seen it. But he wasn't at the point where he could discard them just yet, and he wasn't sure when that'd be. But it was only a fact that he was better than them, apparently, everyone else knew it too.
"I mean, I understand the tough position you're in, politically you know?"
He nodded for her to go on, curious about what she would say.
"You're in Slytherin for the foreseeable future and practically beyond, you have to be friendly with those dimwits for the sake of self-preservation, for the sake of ambition. And nothing's wrong with wanting to survive… to be better… to be at the top."
"Yes, yes my thoughts exactly."
The girl had an ounce of intelligence at least… where it mattered. Not everyone saw things that way.
Not everyone would admit it out loud, however.
"You feel as if you are stuck in a similar position?"
She shrugged, "I understand the need for mutually beneficial relationships, sure," but her eyes told him all he needed to know.
Living in a place like this would warrant such feelings, he reasoned.
He crossed his arms. Okay. If she wanted to be 'friends', then he wanted something out of this too. "What do you plan to do after you graduate?"
"You think I have an answer?"
"I think you'd be foolish if you didn't."
She huffed and looked away, "Fine, I do have plans, a couple- more than a couple. I'll have options, so it all depends on how I feel when I'm 17."
He studied her nonchalant form. "That confident?"
"Of course. Classes are easy-"
"-You've only done two years," he scoffed, "you don't know that for-"
"-Classes are easy," she stressed. "When you've lived out here, Hogwarts is a fair in comparison."
He nodded, "Alright then, then tell me about one."
"One of my plans?"
He hummed in agreement.
She fidgeted for a moment- mousey little thing- but it seemed like she was debating something in her head.
"Come on then," she beckoned him to follow her.
He stayed in place.
"Oh come on, we're just going inside." She smiled coyly. "Don't you want to come inside?"
His eye twitched and she laughed. What a crude little girl, undoubtedly due to her circumstances. But it was no worry, these were things he could fix.
"I thought you were going to tell me one of your plans."
"I am, but it'd be easier if I showed you rather than told." She began walking backward, hoping he'd follow.
"I'm not necessarily supposed to be seen in there, you know," he challenged, curious about what she would do.
"Pfft, where we're going, no one will see you… especially not your father."
He ground his teeth as he stared at the girl and her bold but correct presumption.
Finally, he nodded and uncrossed his arms.
"Well then, after you."
She led him to a creaky but sturdy-looking door parallel to the entrance. The girl turned her head to put her finger to her lips. Tom rolled his eyes.
She grinned before pulling it open and gesturing for him to follow him up the stairs just by the door.
Carefully, they moved up the wooden stairs, mindful of every sound. And when they reached the second floor, with its long but narrow hallway, she turned right to walk up to a door that read the initials J.G.
"This is your mother's, I'm assuming."
"Yep," she popped her 'p' before grabbing a key from the neckline of her dress, from her brassiere he assumed, and unlocked the door.
She walked in and he walked in after, closing the door behind him.
"Would she skin me alive if she found me here?" He asked as he assessed the small but tidy area.
Her brows furrowed before she smiled. "Have you been spying on me, Tom Riddle?"
He shrugged, but looked away, confused but not necessarily upset with her response. Who smiles at being spied on?
She laughed before leading him to what looked like her personal area of the room. It was a controlled sort of chaos, books lined the back of the desk and piled on the floor. The books were neatly stacked upon each other as piles of papers covered the rest of the table.
There was a method to the madness, he could tell, but it was by no means the Hogwarts library.
Tom looked over her shoulder as she muttered to herself and riffed through the papers.
'Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, discrepancies and opportunities through the existence of magic' was scribbled on one paper. 'Muggle Racism vs Magical Blood Purism: Which One Would I Piss on More?' was written on another.
Interesting…
"Aha!" She exclaimed, grabbing a pile that looked a little more worse for wear than the others.
She handed him the papers and with a raised brow he took them and did a quick scan of the first page. Tom looked up from the paper to look down at a smug Hermione. He flipped the page.
Then another, and another, and another-
"Are these step-by-step plans to becoming Minister for Magic?"
The girl's eyes narrowed. "What? Mad that I want your dream job?" She crossed her arms in self-defense.
Tt. And what a small dream that would be… for me.
"No. Just surprised it's yours… and that some of these aren't half bad."
"Th- thank you," she stammered at first, then quickly recovered, "But- I don't quite understand- you could become Minister for Magic. Easily you could. Why not?"
She was right. He could become Minister of Magic, quickly rising the ranks of the Ministry to become the youngest Minister of Magic there was even. He handed her back the papers and clasped his hands behind his back.
But his plans were much grander and much more significant than Minister for Magic.
With a soft glare, he said, "My plans are just that- mine."
She nodded then gasped, "Wait wait wait. You're telling me that all that arse kissing was not to become Minister for Magic?"
His soft glare turned hard, "If you call common decency and respect arse kissing then yes, exactly."
"But this-" she wildly gestured to him and the air between them, "this right now is common decency- respect… and it's honest. That thing you do at Hogwarts is a little too perfect- too polished," the girl raised an accusatory brow. "May make someone think you're hiding something."
Tom scoffed to himself, but he had to consider her reasoning. It would seem I've been flying a bit too close to the sun.
It seemed, that in his effort to be the perfect and innocent schoolboy, he'd cursed himself in the foot.
"Is this you or the school talking?"
"Oh me, most definitely… and perhaps, maybe some suspicious- or rather, jealous- Gryffs and 'Claws as well," She whispered, but at least had the decency to look apologetic.
"But if this is what you're hiding- snark? And some overall prickliness-"
He bristled at the bold analysis of his character.
"-and more perhaps," she gave him a knowing look. He narrowed his eyes, one he'd dissect later.
"I say go for it and damn what the others think! You shouldn't feel forced to be and act perfect just because you hold a muggle last name or grew up in a muggle home! Especially since being Minister of Magic isn't within your sights."
He blinked. Despite the girl's overall insolence and cheek- things he wouldn't mind cursing out of her- and her inaccurate explanation for his behavior her overall opinion was tasteful, digestible- far more appealing than his simpering knights.
"We'll see," he cocked his head as he looked down at the bright-eyed girl.
Eager to please, yet unafraid not to…
"I just might take your-"
"-Hermione? You in there, dear?" Hermione's eyes instantly widened in fear and her head snapped to the clock on the wall.
His eyes followed hers and-
Shit, it was getting late. His father was probably done with whatever 'business' he had in this place. Meaning he had to be back in the motorcar now.
She looked back up at Tom, eyes asking him what she should do.
Tom shook his head in amusement. Looking to me for guidance already? She might not be as difficult as he thought she'd be.
He nodded for her to do what she needed to do, ultimately unbothered. It was time for him to leave either way.
Hermione nodded back before answering, "Yes Mum, I'm here!"
While he still had her attention, he put a finger to his lips, then disillusioned himself and cast a quick cushioning charm to his body for insurance.
He watched Hermione's expression shift from shock to open admiration. Her eyes were still trained on where he had disappeared from, even when he had already walked away and towards the door.
His smile was genuine and smug, but gratefully unseen.
"H-here Mum, I'll open the door for you," Hermione rushed to the door.
But before she could take hold of the door's knob she grinned, wide and mischievous.
"Goodbye, Tom," she whispered to the door- to him.
The girl then promptly opened the door, allowing him no time at all to react to his first name being said quite so… personally.