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If Hermione hadn’t come home early from her holiday with her mum, she never would’ve found the special delivery waiting for her boyfriend—signed with love—from his secretary at their shared flat.
“Cormac’s a tosser,” Ginny told her, patting her on the back and sliding a fresh drink, some concoction called the snakebite with a sweet dash of blackcurrant cordial all served in a pint glass, directly into her hands. “You are going to dump the arsehole, right?”
Hermione sighed, twisting in the bar stool and in great discomfort from the jet lag. She’d come straight to the pub upon discovery of the betrayal, the wound of it still quite fresh.
“Gin,” she took a swig of her drink and slammed it back on the table dramatically, “I can’t believe the nerve of him.”
“Oh, bullocks,” Ginny groaned.
“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Hermione scolded.
Ginny ducked down behind Hermione. She looked positively ridiculous. “Don’t look. Malfoy and his merry band of Slytherins have arrived.”
“Gin?” Hermione’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t you sleeping with Malfoy?”
“Just because I’m sleeping with him doesn’t mean I want to spend time with him!” Ginny used her as a human shield.
Confused, Hermione replied, “That makes no sense.”
“Don’t look at them!” Ginny said frantically. “Otherwise they’ll see us and come over here and then we’ll have to talk.”
Draco Malfoy strolled in with the usual suspects—Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Tom Riddle. All perfectly put together. The group gathered around a table on the far end of the pub.
Pain bloomed at the base of Hermione’s neck from the emotional whiplash of the last twenty-four hours. “If anything is going to catch their attention, it’s the scene you’re making!”
“You’re impossible!” Ginny accused. “I’ll go get another round of drinks. Send me the signal when they’re gone. I was never here!”
“Wha—what? But you just got us—” And before she could stop her, Ginny took off.
Malfoy, accompanied with Riddle, sauntered over to where she sat.
“Granger,” Malfoy greeted, polite. Cordial even. “Was that Weasley just now?”
Hermione plastered on a smile. “Why, yes. She’s just gone to get another round of drinks.”
Riddle, arched a brow, eyes darting from the fresh round of drinks on the table and back to Hermione.
“I see…” Malfoy’s voice trailed off. “Perhaps she needs a hand?”
“Oh, she’d love that!” Served her right for abandoning her here with the snakes.
Malfoy’s eyes lit up and he turned to follow after Ginny without another word.
She tried to ignore Riddle, but he made himself right at home and slid into the seat next to her. “Back early from holiday?”
“Yes,” she eyed him suspiciously, “just a bit of catching up.”
“No McLaggen tonight?” he asked.
At the mention of Cormac, she grimaced.
“Oh, what’s this?” He tilted his head. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Everything’s wonderful,” she sniffed. She refused to let her rival at the Department of Mysteries see her in such a state. She didn’t trust him not to use this against her somehow, but she was already several drinks in and still quite overwhelmed. There was no hiding the heartbreak.
He cast her a glance that told her he knew there was more to the story, but he’d allow it. “By all means, don’t let me interrupt.”
She shot him a glare, picking up her drink. Primly, she informed him, “You’re not.”
“Good.” He flashed her a sinful smirk and her heart fluttered from the intensity of his gaze.
They were interrupted by Ginny and Malfoy’s boisterous return to the table with another round of drinks. Hermione rolled her eyes, equally happy and sick to her stomach at all their blatant flirtation.
“Have another snakebite, 'Mia!” She slid another glass right next to the unfinished drink from earlier.
Hermione happily accepted.
There were pangs of heartache that threatened to turn to tears, but deep down she tried burying it and to view this as a positive thing. Cormac wasn’t the one, and she could stop wasting her time. She’d confront him, move out, and end things tomorrow.
Not long after, Nott and Zabini joined. As the night wore on Hermione’s mood brightened, albeit only slightly, and she even enjoyed some banter and debate with Riddle over the uses of Time Sand in advanced potions.
They all stayed out until last call, stumbling out of the pub properly sloshed.
“You!” Ginny pointed at Hermione. “Are you coming home with me?” She pointed at herself.
Hermione shook her head and stumbled into something warm, solid. She looked up and it was Riddle, who wrapped an arm around her.
“I can get her home,” Riddle said like the perfect gentleman she knew he only pretended to be for appearances. He exchanged a look with Malfoy she couldn’t decipher.
She rushed up to hug Ginny. “I’ll be fine, honest.” Then leaning into her ear, she whispered, “Please, put Malfoy out of his misery and shag him senseless tonight.”
Ginny tossed her head back and laughed.
“I’m in good hands,” Hermione insisted.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked over Hermione’s shoulder, presumably to glare at Riddle. “And you’ll owl me in the morning?”
“Of course,” she reassured her.
As everyone went separate ways, she was left alone with Riddle. The full force of the day weighed on her.
Together they walked in a direction they both knew was not towards her flat.
“You can stay at mine, if you are avoiding McLaggen,” he offered.
“How’d you know something happened with him?” Had it been that obvious? How mortifying.
“Ginerva wasn’t particularly subtle.” He shrugged. “Also, I overheard her—very loudly—describe exactly what she’d do to McLaggen the next time they cross paths when she was… occupied with Malfoy.”
Hermione simply nodded, walking arm in arm with him. It was unexpected. Nice.
As they stood outside his flat and he unlocked the door, she came to her senses. She straightened up, cheeks flushed from embarrassment, and pulled away from Riddle who simply looked amused. His flat was surprisingly cosy.
She couldn’t help but browse through the books neatly stacked in all corners of his flat.
He handed her a vial. “Here, Sober-Up.”
Hermione sipped the potion and everything came back into focus. Her mind cleared, her senses sharpened. “What did you gain by helping me tonight, Riddle?”
He raised his hands up. “I can’t do something nice from the goodness of my heart?”
“No,” she said flatly.
At that, he laughed. It was unfair how handsome he was. She hadn’t heard him laugh much before. He was always so serious at work or so polite it was unnatural. And even back at Hogwarts, he was fairly reserved.
“All right.” He sat next to her on the settee. “Perhaps there is something.”
“I knew it,” she growled.
“Nothing nefarious, I swear to Salazar,” he promised. “I need a partner for my next project in the Soul Division. It is a special kind of research project. It can’t just be anyone.”
She bit her lip in contemplation. Hermione suspected Riddle’s definition of nefarious differed greatly from hers. But the exhaustion weighed heavy on her heart. And despite the Sober-Up Potion, she still had difficulty thinking clearly at this late hour.
“Let’s discuss the terms in the morning,” she said, finally.
“I can’t wait,” he purred.
***
The owl arrived in the early hours as Hermione was deep in slumber. With a small cut to his hand, the ink on the charmed parchment morphed into something legible upon contact with Tom’s blood.
He smiled. Tracey Davis played the part perfectly, seducing Hermione’s wayward lover. Well… soon to be ex-lover.
Hermione slept in his bed. Last night he was the perfect gentleman, and it was a perfectly innocent evening with not a single slip up of untoward behavior. Everything was lining up. It wouldn’t be long before he could bind her soul to his. Tom Riddle had Hermione exactly where he wanted her.