authorsnotes: I do very much enjoy writing this
I hope you enjoy reading!
songrecs: chloe or sam or sophia or marcus - taylor swift
'Time is different for a tree than for a man'
- George RR Martin
-x-
Had it really been a month?
That was her thought as she woke, it had been a week since she'd visited Hogsmeade with Tom, Tom Riddle, and he'd shown her the balcony, seemingly selflessly, and she couldn't deny they'd had a moment, more than that, and many more after…
She was in trouble.
She could acknowledge that, lying in her lone bed in the 6th year Slytherin girls dorm, it was a Saturday, it was early, and she had been ignoring just how much trouble she was in for too long.
Because it hadn't just been the Hogsmeade visit, or the sharing secrets in the Common Room, him holding her bags and laughing with her in Diagon Alley, the two sharing notes in lessons, it was all of them together and a million things more.
The way he'd always hold an arm out to her after lunch and they'd walk to class together. They were partners in every class they shared, they sat next to each other for most of their meals; she'd even heard his friends joking they'd lost him to her. They debated, hands flying, magical theory put through the ringer by both of them, and she loved it.
She loved it.
She loved having an intellectual equal, or truthfully, someone even better than her. Yes, she resented it, but she also loved trying to keep up with him, outwitting him, bringing up an obscure theory, she didn't even really have to worry that her knowledge was more up to date, the Wizarding World moved so slowly she soon learned what they learnt now was barely different from her classes, and courses in the future.
If anything it was more difficult, longer essays, stricter rules, she'd written four feet of parchment for Runes instead of three and had been docked marks for 'waffling' (Tom had laughed, she'd refused to talk to him until he'd somehow acquired her blackberry tart, a fruit she'd confided in him was her favorite), they'd had mock exams, and though it was difficult, she loved it.
She loved studying with Tom, the two taking up space in the back of the library, books scattered over the desks, parchment piled high. She didn't have to poke and prod him into doing the work, it was wonderful.
And so yes, huge trouble.
He was Tom Riddle, and yet that meant he wasn't Voldemort, but still Tom Riddle, he'd still done awful things, thought awful things, and wanted to do worse things. He had justified his hatred in the name of power, which he would take by all means necessary, he'd made that clear.
Somehow, she'd ignored that in the past weeks, when he'd smiled that dashing smile at her, cited some rare text in an argument and had taken her hand to steer her around 7th year boys looking at her, and he'd glared at them so viciously they'd scurried away.
How was he both things at once?
Awful and wonderful, handsome but ugly inside, or was he? Her mind hurt, a headache forming even though she'd just woken up.
What was worse, was that she wasn't fully worried, or even concerned about his evilness, she knew he wasn't yet Lord Voldemort, knew he'd never descend into that madness if she stopped it, knew she could stop it, she could be a good influence, she could help, perhaps she could stop Harry's parents dying by instead of trying to take on one of the most powerful Wizards of all time, she could instead steer him away from those things.
Or was that her coping with the feelings in her heart?
And it was the betrayal that was the worst.
It wasn't her feelings, stronger and stronger by the day, it wasn't even the ache of worry that maybe he was playing her, that she was being a fool in first … first love, it was the betrayal she was worried she was committing, against Harry, Ron, Dumbledore, Neville, all of them, betraying their memories, betraying their friendship for Tom Riddle.
Tom Riddle, not Lord Voldemort.
It was impossible to pull apart, it was so unsimple, and so awful it hurt.
Was she supposed to be lonely here? To try and take down the only man who'd maybe ever truly seen her? Rot in the loneliness of no one knowing her? Even with the secrets she had to keep from Tom, she still felt that he truly saw her, could see her … did she have to give that up?
Especially when maybe, just maybe she could stop him in a different way?
With a sigh she dragged herself out of bed, there was no puzzling this issue out, there was no putting this to bed through logic, her heart ached, her head hurt, and she so wished for once she didn't overthink everything.
The shower helped clear her thoughts a little, a quick drying charm on her hair left it near unmanageable, but she ignored the cloud slowly forming out of her curls, and instead with a sigh made her way back into her dorm silently.
Or would have, did she not shriek, as she saw someone sat on her bed.
"You really need to put some wards up"
She was sure her heart was about to burst through her chest, and she had reached for her wand, only to pause to see it was in his hands.
Toms hands, who was sat on her bed, holding her wand, it was incredibly intimate, her heart fluttered, and she was just glad she'd half made the bed … but to see Tom lounging on it, dressed and proper, he looked good, but then he always did. Only he wasn't in his uniform, but heavy black robes; plain and simple, but immaculate.
Trouble indeed.
"What are you doing in here?" She asked quickly, tightening the towel around herself, thankful she was more used to 1980's dress standards, and the towel that fell past her knees was actually longer than her old school skirt.
Still, she knew her cheeks were burning, but she tried for nonchalance … and failed, if Toms grin was anything to go by.
"And the wards are fine, how did you even get past them?" She shouldn't have bothered to ask, but she knew the Hogwarts Founders had put in wards to prevent boys going into the girls dorms, surely Tom couldn't surpass Founders wards?
"It's just a matter of perspective" He said with a shrug, still holding her wand, twirling it between his fingers … it was intimate, to touch another persons wand, and by the glint in Toms eye he knew it.
And yet she did nothing to stop him.
Nonchalance failed her as she went to go to her dresser, to get clothes for the day … but her dresser was opposite Tom, and so she stopped, knowing she couldn't just walk past him in the towel, yes it fell to her calves, but her shoulders were out, and it was white and flimsy, and her cheeks were very very red.
Damn him, as he grinned.
"What are you doing here?" She asked again, sounding crosser this time for she hated to be embarrassed, "I .. I need to get dressed"
"I'm here to whisk you away for the day" He said with a grin, and something in her fluttered but her glare didn't falter.
"You can do that by meeting me in the common room" She said, flustered completely and utterly, and trying to ignore how pleased she was that she'd get to spend the day with him, and that he was whisking her away.
She wasn't sure she'd ever been whisked away before.
"But this is more fun" He said grinning fully now, not even trying to hide it.
"Tom" She said, letting out a huff of frustration, "Get out so I can get dressed"
"I can wait" He said, and that grin would kill her, surely.
"I'm not getting undressed in front of you!" She protested, cheeks surely the colour of tomatos.
"Why? It feels inevitable doesn't it?" A cheeky grin this time. And she squarked in response, outraged, and again, very red.
"Get out, now"
He went to say something, but perhaps her glare quelled him enough that instead, he grinned, tossed her wand on the bed, had the audacity to wink at her of all things, and said;
"See you downstairs, ten minutes or I come back up"
"You come back up and I'll hex you" She said, and then because she couldn't help herself, "And I still want to know how you got up here!"
"Make it five then!" He called, and at that she rolled her eyes, hated the smile, and her flushed cheeks, and hurried to get dressed.
She arrived exactly 8 minutes later to make a point, dressed (not in muggle clothing, no one wore that here, instead she wore long black robes that she resented, why did Wizards make everything so difficult, though she suppose 1940's women's muggle clothes would be no better), wand tucked in her robes, and her cheeks still quite flushed.
"Not a word" She said, and Tom was smirking still. It was early, 8am and most of the dorms slept, those that didn't averted their eyes. All of Slytherin and honestly most of the school seemed terrified of Tom, and by extension her. Honestly she didn't mind it, she always got her preferred spot in the library and no one bothered her; it was the little things.
"To answer your question, the stairs only turn flat if you step on them" He said with a shrug, as though it were obvious, "If you float an inch above them then they don't activate and you can reach the top step"
"Quite a commitment to scare me while I was in my towel" She said with a roll of her eyes, but she was smiling; a simple solution but a good one, his brain truly was just … better.
And she wouldn't admit to anyone just how attractive she found that.
"I didn't scare you, I flustered you" He said cheekily, and just laughed at her squark, her outrage, and yet when he held out his arm she took it.
She always did.
And this was why it was easy, her headache receding, her loneliness abating, but it wasn't just having anyone nearby. If she'd simply needed company she could have sought out anyone less morally concerning, could have found anyone who could keep her company and not make her worry she was betraying her best friends. With Tom it was who he was, not just that he was.
It was his mind, his smirk as he led her over the portrait hole, and then, his full explanation of how to levitate an inch off the floor and fool the wards that truly had her smiling.
And he had flustered her, that she could admit, but still, "No you didn't" She protested, and it was his turn to roll his eyes, to which she did grin.
How long would they play this game?
It was easy for a little while, to let go of the worry, the anxiety and just revel in Toms company, in how he made her feel.
He steered her away from the Great Hall, and she raised an eyebrow, but he shook his head and led her to the main doors, "I said whisk didn't I?"
"Yes" She let out a nervous giggle, how or why she trusted Tom was beyond her, but as she followed him .. she found she did. Goodness.
She trusted Tom Riddle.
Somehow, she didn't think he would hurt her. He'd had every opportunity to, could have when she'd spat back at him in the first few times they'd interacted. Could have turned his wand on her and probably covered it up fairly easily.
He hadn't. Instead he held her hand, showed her mysterious balconies and produced blackberry tarts out of nowhere to get back in her good graces.
And so she followed, but still, "But I'm hungry"
"All taken care of" He said with a shrug, and at that she nodded, and lost any reservations.
And followed.
He led her through the grounds, over the lawn, through the winding steps (and once again she noted, except for some trees and the paving stones being slightly less worn, Hogwarts was startlingly the same), and then off the beaten path, off to the side, and past the Gamekeepers hut (she felt a pang for Hagrid, and then a bit of guilt, but then Tom was talking about a book he'd read on the Founders and she was both distracted and intrigued), over a final lawn, and then they were there.
There being the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
She raised an eyebrow, and Tom (picking up what looked like a picnic basket he'd put here earlier), held a hand out this time.
"Do you trust me?"
She didn't hesitate to nod.
"Then Miss Hermione Granger, may I take you on a date?" He sounded sincere, one of the few times he had, and his smile was too. There was no hint of nerves on his face, no worry she might say no, and truthfully, that she admired.
For just one second everything, every reason not to raced through her head. One second. Everything telling her this was a terrible idea, when had it turned romantic? Had it always been (yes), she was in over her head, she was a traitor, why was she doing this? She should walk away and walk away right now, right this second, before he got his claws in. Or did he already?
And was promptly, ruthlessly shoved aside by the flutter in her heart that she'd regret later.
Instead, she took his hand, nodded, "You may" She didn't even splutter.
And both grinning now they stepped forward to the forest, through the branches and to be swallowed whole by it.
Fitting.
it aint gunna be this fluffy forever, enjoy whilst you can
do review if you can!
speak soon