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“Now remember, no shovel talk unless Harry’s out of earshot,” Hermione said as she did the final touches to the puff of her curly dark hair and ran a finger over a few strands not quite sticking in place against her scalp. “You know how put out he’ll be if he hears us threatening this new suitor of his.”
Ron snorted as he tugged his robe sleeves tighter. She eyes him in the mirror, smiling slightly at how his broad shoulders fill out the beautiful blue robes. “I can’t believe he called this new guy a suitor. Who says things like that these days, honestly.”
“Ron,” she chided. He rolled his eyes and grinned at her.
“I know, I know, we only tell the bloke we can lay him out in three seconds flat and no one will find the body if he dares raise a hand or wand against Harry when Harry’s away. But I’ll be sure to remind them just how much we consider him to be family and that all my older brothers think of him as the baby.” Ron smoothed his hand down the front of his robes and then spread his arms. “How do I look?”
Hermione smiled. Her own robes are a bright yellow that practically glows against her dark skin and is stunning with Ron’s blue robes. “Like I wish we had another hour before we had to go, come on, love, we’ll be late if we don’t go now.”
Ron waggled his eyebrows at her as he strode over. He pulled her into his arms and said, “Ten minutes early instead of fifteen does not make us late. We can have a kiss or two now, can’t we?”
Hermione pushed herself up onto tip-toe to kiss Ron’s chin. He huffed an amused laugh and pulled her in for a real kiss. She melted into it, like she always did and sighed a little when it ended.
Resting his forehead against hers, Ron murmured, “Love you, Mio.”
Hermione blushed and whispered back, “Love you too, dearest.” She closed her eyes and basked in the feeling of his arms around her and his warm body in her arms. “I hope this goes well,” she said in that same soft whisper, “I really, really want it to go well. He’s been through so much. He deserves someone who loves him for him.”
“I know,” Ron whispered back. It was so wonderful to hold him like this, to share air with him as they spoke. “I hope this bloke is the one for him the way Harry thinks he is. I really do. I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.”
“Good,” she said, “We should go now, we don’t want to be late.”
“One more kiss,” he said as he leaned back in. Hermione acquiesced.
They were only eight minutes early instead of the fifteen that Hermione planned on, but at least they weren’t eight minutes late and they still looked fine. They apparated down a side path and walked up to the main thoroughfare of Horizon Avenue where the high-end restaurant they were meeting Harry and his date sat on the corner.
Hermione tucked her hand into the corner of Ron’s arm, acquiescing to tradition in this case because she knew how snide purebloods could be about muggleborns even in this day and age. She didn’t want to have even the chance of a scene happening, so she let Ron lead the way until they were at the Gilded Swan and through the winged doors into the antechamber.
In the small foyer was a fountain with sparkling purple waters and a golden swan with wings spread wide as though it had just descended down into the water. The walls were dark with gold accents and the floor was a mosaic of ivory and gold. Hermioned swallowed at the opulence of the place. She felt Ron tense up beside her and squeezed his arm in order to try and relax him.
She glanced up at him and gave a weak smile when he looked back. “Harry did say his suitor had high end tastes,” she murmured.
“I swear to Merlin if he’s having one on and this is Malfoy he’s taken us to see…” Ron’s voice trailed off.
Before Hermione could reply, a woman appeared through a section of the wall she’d assumed was solid. She wore a white suit coat and black pants and bowed slightly at them. “How may I assist you tonight, my lord and lady?”
“We’re joining a dinner party under the name of Harry Potter,” Hermione said primly.
The woman bowed again and gestured to a portion of the wall, “Right this way.” The wall shimmered and suddenly went from solid and into a golden curtain that she easily passed through.
On the other side of the curtain was an enormous room, one so grand that it was only Hermione’s stubborn will and steel spine that kept her and Ron moving forward as he almost stumbled to a stop in shock. The ceiling was arching high above them, reminiscent of the Ministry’s atrium or even the Great Hall in that it depicted a stunning night sky with a misty view of the Milky Way above.
All around them on slightly elevated platforms were golden chairs and cherry wood tables with ivory cloths and glittering crystal lights. Some occupied tables were blurred, a privacy ward partially obscuring the ones sitting and eating. Other tables were in plain view and Hermione recognized quite a few pureblood faces in the crowd and more than a few of those were members of the Wizengamot. She wasn’t sure how much occupancy this place had, but it was a huge circular room so it could be anywhere from fifty to a hundred.
Their hostess led them halfway through the room and up to an elevated platform that was swathed in such a heavy privacy ward that her eyes watered a little just to look directly at it. As they stepped through the ward the table revealed itself as well as the two occupants: Harry Potter and-
Tom Riddle.
Harry was already getting to his feet to greet them so Hermione thought maybe the way she and Ron froze up at the sight of Riddle wouldn’t be noticed, but in the back of her mind she knew better than that. Harry rounded the table and went up to them. He pulled Ron into a hug, slapping him on the back with one hand, and then turned to put his arm around Hermione and kiss her cheek. Ron recovered enough to slap Harry on the back in turn. But Hermione took a moment longer to blink and kiss Harry’s cheek in return.
“I’m so glad you two could make it,” Harry said, “I’ve been so nervous about this, but you’re here now and I’m just- It’s wonderful. Come. Sit down. Tom ordered a fancy bottle of wine for the table but if you want something else to drink go right ahead.” He practically pushed them to their seats, babbling the whole time.
Hermione knew Harry well enough to know that this babbling was nerves, but that the smile on his face was genuine. That smile of his only grew as he went back to his own seat beside Riddle and slid down into it.
It was only then that she noticed that Riddle had stood at the same time Harry did, or perhaps a little after, and as Harry sat down and got comfortable, Riddle pushed in his chair. Ron, not to be outdone by someone like Riddle, looked from Hermione to her chair with his brows raised. So she sat and let Ron push her in before the two of them could sit down themselves.
Riddle looked as he always did whenever Hermione chanced to see him outside of his Unspeakable robes: perfectly put together and absolutely pristine. His black robes had a hint of red buried in them, shimmering ever so slightly in the light when he moved. He wore a blood red cravat instead of a tie and it made his oddly crimson eyes gleam ever brighter. Beneath the open collar of his robes she could see a dark grey vest and the off-white of his shirt and the whole ensemble reminded her more of muggle English nobility than anything. She herself couldn’t imagine so many layers to wear, but from what she knew of Riddle he would have grown up in an era where men predominantly wore suits and likely felt uncomfortable in less.
The dark clothes were impeccable against his smooth, pale skin. His face was relatively unlined despite his age. He bore neither extensive laugh lines nor deep crows feet and instead had only the slightest wrinkle between his brows as if they were often pressed together in deep thought. His eyes weren’t uncanny just because of the color but because of the vertical slits they bore, like a viper, and they made her shiver a little whenever they met her gaze. His dark hair was coiffed perfectly, as usual, with a tasteful amount of silver at his temples, giving him an older, distinguished look.
She had always thought he looked remarkably good for his age. There were few ninety-year-old wizards that could boast such a young countenance.
On the other hand, Harry wore rich, forest green robes with a glint of gold embroidery at the cuffs. They were open at the collar in a way that exposed his tanned neck down to his clavicle. He had laugh lines around his mouth, sported a scar on his forehead from an accident when he was a child and had long since given up on taming his dark curls into anything resembling order. He grinned brilliantly at them, his green eyes sparkling behind those new rectangular frames he’d started wearing recently and Hermione had to wonder, now for the first time, if that change was brought on by Riddle’s influence or Harry’s own decision.
“I know you two have met Tom before,” Harry said as everyone settled down at the table, “But not quite in this setting so I’d like to introduce everyone here.” He flashed a bright grin and gestured to the two of them, “Tom, these are my two best friends. They’ve been with me since practically the beginning of Hogwarts until now. This is Ron Weasley, a brilliant strategist and the one who actually taught me how to win at chess—well except against you of course—and the most loyal bloke around. He’s saved my life more than once and I know he’s always got my back. And this is Hermione Granger, the most brilliant witch of my generation. Everyone of my teachers in Hogwarts raved on endlessly about how driven and talented she was and said she’d go on to do great things, which of course she has.”
Hermione smiled a little helplessly and a little embarrassed at the praise. Beside her, Ron grinned broadly and said in a loud undertone, “He’s right of course, you’ve done amazing things, love.”
She rolled her eyes at him and swatted his arm gently, “Ron, hush, Harry’s doing introductions!”
Harry laughed brightly. He was practically glowing with happiness. It made Hermione’s heart swell with joy for him. Only for that joy to turn cold when she glanced at Riddle and saw his mask-like blank expression as he watched them with those hard, red eyes.
“Hermione, Ron, this is Tom Riddle. He’s absolutely brilliant. He’s the most well read, well informed, well travelled person I’ve ever met. He’s charming and perfect and the light of my life. I’ve really never been happier than these last few weeks with him. It’s been just incredible.” Harry let out a long sigh and gave Riddle a large, dopey grin. Riddle’s expression didn’t change except for a brief and slight lowering of his eyelids.
“It’s good to meet you again, Riddle,” Hermione said pleasantly, “Or would you prefer Tom?”
“Riddle is acceptable,” Riddle said smoothly. As he spoke, there was a sparkling effect on the side of the circular table and a chilled bottle of wine, still in the ice, appeared. Riddle gestured to it and it rose from the ice. Still with wandless and wordless magic, he opened the bottle and poured for himself and Harry. Then he proffered the bottle towards the two of them. “Wine?”
“Please,” Hermione said, “Thank you.” She added, once he poured for them as well. At her side, Ron shifted his leg so his knee pressed against hers. She could feel the tension coming off of him and knew exactly what he was thinking.
Riddle had brought them to this fancy restaurant to show off his wealth and connections. He showed off his magic with the wine bottle to display his power. He wanted to overwhelm them and to make them think that he’d be able to take such good care of Harry because he could take care of his physical needs.
Well, little did he know there was so much more to being in a relationship than that!
“The meals here are ordered by a quick questionnaire instead of off a menu,” Harry said as he tapped his wand against the center display of a crystal swan with golden flowers at the base and in its beak. A shimmering image appeared before all of them and, in a curling font, offered a half dozen options to choose from. They were mostly questions of preferences on flavor, texture and scent, with a few odd ones thrown in. When Hermione finished her set of questions, she took a sip of her wine.
It was a deep red and yet strangely sweet, tasting of crushed rose petals and honey. “This is quite good,” she murmured.
“Tom always knows exactly what to order,” Harry said with a smile, “Is everyone ready?” When Ron nodded and Hermione agreed, Harry tapped the swan display with his wand again. “You guys are going to love it. The food here is amazing, it really is.”
“I bet it is,” Ron said with a crooked smile, “Sounds like you’ve been here a lot.”
Harry shrugged a little, “It’s been a few times now. This was the second place that Tom took me out to eat after we started dating. It’s good to come around every few weeks because the menu changes frequently.”
“You know, Harry,” Hermione said, “You never did tell us the story about how you met. I bet it has to be an interesting event that brought you two together.”
She wasn’t surprised to see Harry blush and pick up his wine to sip from as if the delay would put Hermione off in any way. “I haven’t? I thought I had a while ago.”
Hermione shook her head, “No, but you certainly did come over ranting and raving about your perfect new suitor.”
Riddle arched an eyebrow as he looked at Harry, who blushed even harder. “It wasn’t that much of a rant…”
“Mate, you walked into the coffee table twice you were so worked up while pacing,” Ron cut in with a snort. He had barely touched his wine and Hermione knew that was because he’d sipped just enough to test it for poison. He was surprisingly paranoid, though she did appreciate it when it worked out to ease her own anxiety. “And even then all you were saying was how you met the most perfect man and didn’t know what to do with yourself if he wouldn’t go out with you. I told you that things would work out, didn’t I?” He offered a broad grin, despite Harry’s embarrassment.
“And obviously they have,” Hermione added, “Because here we are.”
Harry gave Riddle a suspiciously pleading look. Riddle inclined his head just the barest amount. Heaving a sigh, Harry drank a bit more from his wine and then said, “Well, it’s a funny story, really. You remember that case where I got transfigured into a snake for two weeks and had to spend most of it down in the Department of Mysteries because, well, can’t have an intelligent magical snake with unknown and possibly deadly venom running around because even if he’s actually an auror, now he’s a snake and snakes are evil?”
Ron and Hermione both nodded. She pursed her lips a little bit together. She didn’t think that the ministry had isolated him out of such obvious prejudice though. It certainly was a safer option for him to be in a place like the Department of Mystery or perhaps St. Mungo’s considering his state at the time. Had Riddle put that perspective in his head somehow?
“I recall,” she said, “It was an unusual transfiguration as you weren’t simply changed by a spell but from a botched ritual that had to be reconstructed backward and revised until it unwound the spell on you. I read the report after the fact. It was a beautiful piece of technical work and I couldn’t imagine how much time and effort the Unspeakables put into that. There must have been a whole department working on…” Hermione’s voice faded as she came to a realization. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Harry said, because he understood her sometimes as well as Ron did, who was looking at them with wide eyes. “Tom took care of me that whole time, not just with like, taking care of me being a snake and whatnot but the ritual and the research and everything. If not for him I’d probably still be a snake.” He shot a look at Riddle, rolled his eyes and added in a tone that suggested he was mollifying some sort of irritation, “Not that I wasn’t a very lovely snake, yes, I know.”
Hermione blinked, thrown at the response to Riddle’s silent gaze. Had his expression even changed in the slightest?
“Well, it was really good to have you back with your proper body,” Ron said, “And I guess Riddle must have taken good care of you as a snake for you to get so smitten with him.”
Harry’s cheeks darkened pink and he laughed, sipping his wine as if that would cover his embarrassment. Hermione shared a glance with Ron. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know why he was. What had Riddle done when Harry was a snake? How had he behaved?
Okay, so maybe she wanted to know a little bit.
A minute or so later and there was that sparkling on the table that alerted them to a soon arrival and four small plates arrived with the first course. Hermione was pleased with the tangy Greek salad she was served and not at all surprised about the slices of warm bread and whipped honey that Ron had. His sweet tooth was ever his downfall.
Harry and Riddle, however, had nearly identical plates of thinly sliced fish—sashimi she belatedly recognized; she didn’t get a lot of sushi in the wizarding world. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Harry use chopsticks before but here he was, rolling the strips of meat up and popping them into his mouth one at a time with ease.
Hermione sipped her wine and then asked lightly, “Isn’t it usually a white wine that pairs with fish?”
“Indeed,” Riddle said. He also used his chopsticks expertly.
Harry gave Hermione a smile. “Our main course will suit the red wine fine,” he said. “It seems a little silly to get a bottle for just the aperitif. Though I suppose a glass of something wouldn’t have been a big deal, Tom?”
Riddle’s right eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. “The red wine will be enough.”
Harry nodded, like that was all that was needed, and he turned back to Hermione. “So how have things been recently? It feels like forever since we last had a sitdown talk like this.”
“It has been a bit,” Ron answered, “Mum’s been wondering where you’ve been the past few Sunday gatherings.” He tore at his bread, dipping it in the whipped honey with a pensive expression, “And it’s been a while since you made it to the monthly drinks, too. I had thought it was just the promotion to Senior Auror that was keeping you busy…” He gave Riddle a considering look that neither Hermione nor Harry had trouble deciphering.
“Tom isn’t keeping me away from everyone,” Harry said sharply, “I’ve just been- It’s- We’ve been together a lot. It’s been—intense.”
“I believe the term you’re looking for is the honeymoon stage,” Riddle said casually, lifting his wineglass to his lips. “It is terrible business to have to part from one’s own.”
Harry ducked his head a little. He fiddled with something in his lap, probably the napkin he put there, and said, “I actually wanted you to meet Tom because I— We’ve decided that we’re both rather serious about what’s going on here and if he’s going to be a permanent part of my life I’d like for everyone to know about him and to do their best to get on with him. You two are my best friends so I thought if anyone could understand what I see in Tom…” he gave a little shrug and then looked at Tom. His eyes shone with adoration.
Riddle looked back and no matter how hard she looked, Hermione could see nothing in that flat, apathetic face. And yet, Harry must have seen something because his smile grew wider and he reached over and took Riddle’s hand in his own right there on the table.
Seeing that, Hermione couldn’t help herself. “Are you sure you want to do that, Harry? I mean it’s been…two months? Three? Since you met and before that all you knew about Riddle was…”
“Heresay, rumor, and whatever bullshit my dad liked to tell me after he butt heads with him?” Harry answered with a roll of his eyes. “Please, as if I’m not aware of how the rumor mill works. Hogwarts really was just a playground for the Ministry in that way. Every whispered comment is ten times more insidious than the truth. The only upsides are the wards that monitor casting in certain areas to prevent people from doing things like casting a bat boogey at your back because they think that you were caught snogging their best friend and instead of asking about it they just retaliated.”
Ron winced and Hermione sighed. She said, “That was years ago Harry, you know Ginny was apologetic afterwards.”
“I also know that she shouldn’t have done it at all. She was sixteen, not twelve. She didn’t even ask me what had happened, she just assumed that whatever Lavender had told her was true.” Harry rolled his eyes again, much harder, and his upper lip curled briefly into a sneer, “But you are right. It was years ago and nothing in the past matters.”
“I didn’t say that,” Hermione admonished, “I’m just saying she apologized and you forgave her. Why bring it up now, while we’re here?”
“I’m just demonstrating that I know the proper way to deal with rumors. I don’t blindly assume that everything I hear about Tom is correct. I asked him about it.”
“And he just tells you?” Ron asked, “Just like that? You’ve known each other for two months!”
“It’s been longer than that,” Harry retorted.
“I think Ron’s asking how you can trust him at his word,” Hermione said gently, “It’s just— It’s very sudden, your relationship with him. We just want to make sure that everything is—That you’re happy.”
Harry gave them a mulish expression. Riddle sat there sipping his wine. Both of their plates were clear, as was hers and Ron’s. Harry sighed and drew his wand, “Are we done with this course?”
Hermione nodded and Harry tapped the swan, vanishing the plates away in an instant. Then he sighed and set his glass down. Riddle gave a lazy wave of his hand and poured more wine into it and his own. He offered to Hermione and Ron with an arched brow and tilt of the bottle, but they hadn’t drunk as much yet so there wasn’t a point to it.
“I am happy,” Harry muttered when the dishes were gone. “I am actually the happiest I’ve ever been. I don’t appreciate that you don’t think Tom and I are good for each other and that it’s too fast for anything serious.”
Hermione sighed. She reached across the table to put her hand on Harry’s wrist. “We can see that you’re happy, we just want to make sure it’s a long term thing. We hate to see you hurt and don’t want Riddle to break your heart.”
“He isn’t going to,” Harry said softly, “We really like each other, can’t you see that?”
“Sure, mate,” Ron said, “We can see how much he means to you.”
There was a perfect moment of peace before the words sank in. Harry pulled his hand from Hermione’s touch and gave Ron a hard look. “Why would you say it like that? You don’t think Tom cares for me?”
Ron gave a loose shrug that Hermione saw carrying hidden tension. She bit her bottom lip, wondering if she should stop him but knew better than to try just yet. Ron needed to be able to talk things out with Harry as well. “It’s a bit hard to see that from this side of the table,” Ron said, “I mean, no offense but he’s not exactly the most emotive bloke around and well, you’re you. It’s a… You’re a bit of an odd couple.”
Harry made a disgusted noise, “Just because we don’t stick our tongues down each other’s throat at every possible second doesn’t mean we don’t care for each other.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Ron countered, “Mate, we kind of expected you to pick up someone like, well-” He broke off with a wince at Harry’s thunderous expression.
“A red-headed witch with a temper?” Harry asked, “Just like my mother? Well, the only one we know turned out to be a lesbian and, if you recall, we did date and we did break up and we didn’t get back together no matter what anyone said or thought we should do.”
In the middle of his response the table sparkled and then their meals appeared. Hermione was distracted from Harry’s words by the spicy smell of hot curry and she swore she heard her stomach growl with hunger. She flushed a little in embarrassment and looked to see what Ron had gotten—a beautiful roasted quail with whole baby potatoes, thick chunks of carrot and what looked like it had to be cranberry sauce.
Across the table she noticed that Harry and Riddle had gotten very similar dishes again—Riddle had a plate of thick steak with various steamed vegetables and rice while Harry had almost the same thing but a different cut of meat and potatoes instead of rice. Hermione gave a little frown to herself, wondering why their plates were so similar. She hadn’t thought Harry had the same kind of palate as a man like Riddle.
“Is she the reason why you haven’t come ‘round on the weekend?” Ron asked as he cut into his bird. “You know Ginny won’t make it awkward.”
Harry turned a little pink and glared down at his plate, one hand a tight fist beside it. “That’s not why. I know she won’t.”
“Then why?” Hermione pressed. She could tell he was so close to explaining-
Riddle cut in then, not only verbally but physically as he reached across the small space between him and Harry and began to cut up his steak for him. Hermione stopped mid-reach for her drink when she noticed, staring in surprise at it. And then Riddle’s words caught up with her brain and she felt her face heat up.
“Harry has a difficult time getting out of bed on Sunday afternoons, he can be quite worn out from our morning…activities.”
There was a ringing silence that followed those words, marred only by the slightest scrape of metal on porcelain as Riddle finished cutting up Harry’s steak. For half a second she was convinced he was going to feed it to him as well, but he didn’t. He simply went back to his own plate and began to cut up his own steak.
Harry’s cheeks were a brilliant red. Ron’s eyebrows were at his hairline. Hermione blinked several times. She cleared her throat.
“Don’t ask,” Harry said abruptly as he speared a slice of steak. Riddle had cut them so evenly it was impressive, but also so weird. “I didn’t ever ask about what you two do so don’t ask me. Fair’s fair.”
Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it without saying anything. They’d always kept silent—or at least she had—because she didn’t think Harry was very interested or could really empathize. After all, even if he hadn’t ended up with Ginny or someone like her, Hermione had always assumed that Harry would date a woman. That meant that the role in bed he would identify with was one like Ron’s, the man’s.
She hadn’t really even been aware that Harry would date a man. She quickly scoured her mind to look for any hints, any clues, any moment where he’d been surreptitiously interested in men but never said so for some reason. It wasn’t like any of them would have a problem with it, not with who his uncles were!
And once she realized she didn’t know, well then she just had to ask. “When did you realize that you were interested in men, Harry?”
Ron almost choked on his potato. Harry, whose blush had faded mostly, turned a dark pink again. “‘Mione!”
“Well, I’m just wondering,” she said, trying to keep it casual. “You only dated women up until Riddle, as far as I can recall. Have you dated any other men? Or fancied them?”
“No,” Harry said. “I haven’t.”
“So… just Riddle?”
“Just Tom,” Harry said with a quirk of his lips. He glanced at Riddle and there were those stars in his eyes again. “Only Tom.”
Riddle inclined his head ever so slightly, his red gaze never leaving Harry’s face.
Hermione fought the urge to claim that Riddle had done something to Harry. She knew as well as Ron did that he was almost impossible to dazzle with charm magic and he couldn’t be caught by an Imperio. All Aurors were trained to resist it as best as they could, but only Harry was able to throw it off every time without much fuss.
Perhaps a love potion was in play? Not administered here, obviously, but perhaps before? Or maybe when he’d been a snake, something had happened during the ritual that returned him to his human form?
Her mind whirled as she forced herself to eat her food one bite at a time. It was almost criminal how good it was and it was very distracting, especially when Ron offered her bits of his quail to try and she teased him with pretending she was going to put hot curry on his plate. She saw Harry and Riddle did nothing like that, though Harry kept a slight smile on his face and often glanced over at Riddle.
Riddle just looked so cold. So devoid of interest or warmth or anything.
What on earth did Harry see in this man?
The bulk of their main course was filled with idle talk after that: how good the dishes were, the latest family news from the Weasleys, Hermione’s law work and what little Harry or Ron could mention on their cases. Riddle said very little and filled Harry’s glass whenever it got too low. Hermione tried not to be suspicious of that, but it was hard not to. There wasn’t much about Riddle that wasn’t suspicious.
Maybe being so cold and unfathomable just came with the territory of his job, but still. Harry was her friend. She had a responsibility to him.
When dessert came around—cherry cheesecake for her, a wide slice of pie and scoop of ice cream for Ron, and a monstrously large piece of chocolate cake that Harry and Riddle shared—Hermione found that the food had started to settle uneasily in her gut.
Harry was flushed a soft pink across both cheeks and he leaned towards Riddle as if he couldn’t bear to be very far away. Riddle was feeding him bites of cake and Harry didn’t make a word of complaint about it.
Hermione exchanged a look with Ron. Had Riddle been aiming to get Harry drunk for the whole meal? How potent was that wine? It wasn’t as if she or Ron were drunk, but they hadn’t had nearly as much…
Harry seemed happy, though, as he told them some story about his new partner at work. And that was another thing… Harry and Ron had been partners for a few years, though initially they’d been teamed with other Aurors. Now Harry had been promoted to a senior position and given a new permanent partner a few years his senior in position and experience. Hermione had met the woman once or twice, a stern woman who reminded her oddly of Minerva, but nice overall. Still, it had been a surprise when Ron and Harry had to end their work partnership. Everyone had always assumed they’d stay partners and, most likely, be promoted together.
That change had also been within the last three months.
Just how much of an influence on Harry and his work did Riddle have?
While she mused on this, dessert was eaten and the small talk dwindled further. This time it was Riddle who dismissed their empty plates, not Harry, who had put his elbow on the table and propped his chin up on his fist. It was a terrible show of manners and Hermione half expected Riddle to be pissed off about it, but if he was it was impossible to tell from his expression alone.
Hermione anticipated this to be the end of the meal, but to her surprise there was one last dish, as a sparkling appeared before them. Even more surprising she discovered hers was a glass of sherry, Ron’s was something that smelled suspiciously like mulled wine and, as far as she could tell, Harry and Riddle had matching mugs of something steaming. She definitely smelled coffee, but wasn’t sure if that's what they both had or not.
Maybe it was the surprised drink. Or maybe it was the way that Harry and Riddle had such similar dishes. Maybe it was the whole meal or maybe it was just because Riddle was so cold but obviously in total control of whatever was going on, but Hermione couldn’t handle the silence. So she asked one of the larger bombshells that she could, wondering what Harry’s rebuttal would look like with him so inebriated.
“When are you going to tell your parents about this?” She asked.
Harry’s hand jerked a little as he lifted his mug and he quickly set it back down again. “Excuse me?”
“When are you going to tell them?” She asked and then clarified, “You know you’re going to have to eventually if you’re really serious about this thing with Riddle. So what are you going to tell James? Heavens, Harry, what are you going to tell Sirius? You know the two of them don’t like Riddle very much.” And with good reason, she thought to herself, how could someone so cold be any good for Harry?
“I haven’t really… thought about it,” Harry mumbled, which Hermione could immediately tell was a lie. He’d clearly thought a lot about it. “I suppose I’ll figure it out.”
“Might not want to take them out to such a fancy place when you do,” Ron snorted, “You know Sirius won’t care about what’s around him when he starts to make a scene.”
“That’s what privacy wards are for, Ron,” Harry drawled. “He can make whatever scene he wants behind them.”
“He might break them down if he’s agitated enough. You know his magic’s been a little odd ever since…” Hermione hesitated and glanced at Riddle.
“He knows about it,” Harry turned pinker again, “He was part of the research team that created the ritual and potion. I’ve—I think he could help Sirius with his magic going a little wild around the edges if he would talk to him about it but he-” he sighed heavily and shook his head, “He doesn’t like Tom much.”
“Hard to like someone who practically resembles a marble statue more than a person,” Ron squinted at Riddle. “I find you hard to read and I’ve been trained for it. So’ve Sirius and James so it’ll make them all the more suspicious. Throw in the fact that you’re dating their precious Harrikins,” Harry made an affronted noise that Ron ignored, “And you’re in for a hell of an uphill battle to win them over.”
Harry stubbornly stuck out his chin. “Well, they’ll just have to get over themselves. I’m with Tom now and if they want me to come ‘round they’re gonna have to keep their mouths shut about him.”
Hermione made a choked noise and set down her sherry sharply. “You’d do that? You’d avoid your family just to stay with him?”
“If they’re gonna be assholes about the man I’m dating in front of me, yeah, I’ll avoid them until they get their shit together,” Harry snapped angrily. “I don’t have to be around people that make me upset. I deserve to be around people that treat me the way I want to be treated.”
“But they’re your parents,” Ron said dumbly, his mouth going slack at Harry’s declaration. “You can’t just avoid them.”
Harry made a disgusted noise and then shot a look at Riddle that Hermione translated to mean can you believe this? Riddle gave the slightest of smiles and reached up, tucking his fingers under Harry’s chin and pressing his thumb to the skin beneath his lip. “Now darling,” Riddle said, his voice very dry, “Do listen to your little friends more carefully. Whether or not your family likes me is the subject under scrutiny here, not their behavior towards me.”
“But if they don’t like you then they’re gonna bitch about you all the time. I know them, Tom. They’ll pester me an’ call it helping. It’s how Sirius shows his affection, by meddling in other people’s problems.” Harry all but whined. He leaned into Riddle’s touch, his eyes drooping slightly.
“One would think that he had better things to occupy his time,” Riddle mused, “Isn’t he busy chasing after that little growth he calls his son?”
Hermione sat up sharply while Harry gave a little giggle that ended with a snort. Riddle let go of his chin, giving his cheek a gentle pat before he dropped it to the table again.
“Harry!” She admonished, “Don’t you think calling Caleb a ‘little growth’ is rude? Just because he isn’t a traditionally born child doesn’t mean he should be referred to as some sort of growth.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “‘Mione, he doesn’t mean anything bad about it. Did you, Tom?”
“Of course not.”
“See?”
Ron snorted. “Harry, that drink of yours isn’t alcoholic, is it? I think you might’ve had a bit too much to drink.”
“I did not,” Harry refuted, “I had just as much as I’m allowed. Didn’t I, Tom?”
“You did,” Tom said as he lifted his own mug to sip at it.
“‘Sides,” Harry continued as he lifted his mug. It tilted a little and nearly sloshed out, “It’s hot cocoa. ‘S very good hot cocoa, in fact. But not as good as yours, Tom.” He turned back to the older man, with hearts in his eyes.
Tom nodded, “Few things are.”
Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. She was worried about Harry, but didn’t know where to even start. They both knew that if they pressed too hard, Harry would only run in the opposite direction. If they argued against Riddle being his boyfriend, Harry would just distance himself from them. It wouldn’t have been the first time even. One of Harry’s old girlfriends, a woman named Selene, had tried to keep Harry away from everyone he knew. It had been a messy, messy break up.
Which meant if they wanted to extract Harry from Riddle’s clutches, they were going to have to go about this very, very carefully.
“Well, Harry,” Hermione began slowly, “Even if Sirius gives you trouble about dating Riddle, I hope you know that Ron and I are on your side. We just want to see you happy, and if Riddle helps you be happy then of course we’re happy for you.” She knew her smile was too brittle by half, but Harry didn’t notice it as he spread his mouth wide in his own answering grin.
“I knew I could count on you two,” Harry beamed at them, “Tom really does make me so, so happy, you guys. I mean, there’s this thing that he does with-” got cut off when Tom gave a sharp little hiss. With a contrite expression, Harry ducked his head and mumbled something.
Hermione felt her smile freeze on her face at the surprising sound of parseltongue.
Except Harry can’t speak parseltongue, so it probably was just a noise to shut him up, Hermione told herself. Harry might have been a snake for two weeks, but he was human now. St. Mungos had insisted he was one hundred percent back to the way he’d been before the ritual accident. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“That reminds me,” she said with a not-so forced smile to Riddle, “I know there was a collective show of thanks for your help in recovering Harry from his snake form, but I would like to express my own gratitude. I did a lot of reading up when it happened from various accounts of people who had been forcibly transfigured for up to ten years and was so worried something like that might happen to Harry.”
Riddle arched an eyebrow at her. “At the time there was no greater mystery for me to consider, given the situation. Ritual transfiguration is an area that is poorly researched but has since then piqued my interest.” His lips twitched into what might’ve been a smile as he said, “So I am in turn grateful for the fumbling of Aurors to bring to light a new field of study to my attention.”
Ron forced a grin and said, “Well, at least some good came out of that whole mess then. I mean, besides, ah, the two of you meeting.”
“Yes,” Riddle said, “That was something quite good indeed. I do appreciate your involvement, Mr. Weasley.”
Ron’s face transformed into one big wince and he laughed awkwardly, “Please, just Weasley or even Ron is better. Mr. Weasley is my dad.”
“Weasley then,” Riddle inclined his head the tiniest amount. He very deliberately set down his mug and placed one of his long boned hands on Harry’s shoulder. “We shall have to pick up our conversation at a later date. I need to get Harry back to his flat.”
A woosh of breath left Hermione without her conscious thought as the words registered—Harry isn’t living with him, oh thank Merlin. She joined the others in getting to her feet as Riddle urged Harry up with a hand at his elbow. Harry still seemed a little tipsy, smiling dazedly and yawning. She wasn’t used to seeing him like that so early in the evening and worried about him.
“Say goodbye,” Riddle murmured to Harry as he urged him forward.
“Goodbye, Hermione,” Harry said obediently. Hermione couldn’t help herself and swooped forward to capture him in a tight hug. She squeezed him tightly, making him laugh a little and pat her back awkwardly.
“Be careful with him, Harry,” Hermione whispered to him softly, “If you need anything at all, you reach out to us however you must, okay? Anytime too. We’ll be there.”
“I’m all right, ‘Mione,” Harry mumbled as he patted her back some more, “Tom takes wonderful care of me.”
She reluctantly let go of him and Harry turned to Ron, “Goodbye, Ron.”
Hermione wasn’t at all surprised when Ron clapped Harry tight in another hug, though from Harry’s wide-eyed expression, he certainly was. She heard Ron whisper to Harry, similar words as her own, and then they parted and Ron gave Harry a worried look.
Harry, of course, brushed off their concern as he moved back. He looked at them both and said with uncharacteristic seriousness, “Please don’t mention Tom to my parents or anyone else yet. I want to introduce people to him myself, okay? I want it on my terms, you understand, right?”
Ron reached out and took Hermione’s hand, holding it tightly. She squeezed back. Ron said, “Yeah, mate, we get it. If you need us there when you tell them, just let us know. We’re always at your back.”
Harry gave them a bright smile and then turned back to stand at Riddle’s side. He wasn’t a short man, though he didn’t have the same height as many of the Weasley men, but Riddle seemed to dwarf Harry in a way that wasn’t purely physical. Hermione watched as Riddle put his hand to Harry’s back, possessive and confident, and guided him through the privacy ward and out into the main room.
From the way that Hermione’s gaze slid off of them the moment they passed the privacy ward, she had a feeling that Riddle, or even Harry, must have put up a personal notice-me-not up. They would have to if they wanted to keep this a secret and still go out to eat together. Even if the restaurant was notorious for privacy, there were always those hungry for gossip.
Left alone at the table and within the wards there, Hermione turned to Ron and buried herself in his arms. He squeezed her tight enough to crush the air out of her lungs and then relaxed his grip so it was gentle and warm, the way she loved it to be.
“I want to go right over to the Potters and tell them immediately,” Hermione confessed, “This is like Selene all over again but so much worse. She was just an envious tramp. Riddle is…” the words failed her and she just looked at Ron, willing him to understand.
He nodded somberly. “Riddle is a whole different beast, I know. But you know we can’t tell anyone. If we do tell it will spread and then it’ll get out and he’ll never trust us again.” He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing them tightly, “I feel terrible about the ritual accident. I should’ve been the one to stumble into it. I should’ve…”
“You told me that Harry pulled you out of the way,” Hermione whispered, “You said he stumbled over the line and kept you away on purpose. What could you have done? If you had both crossed the boundary together-”
Ron grimaced, “I know. I know. But still.” He leaned forward to put his forehead against hers and opened his eyes. His clear blue eyes were filled with guilt and concern.
“We just have to be there for him,” Hermione said, “Like we’ve always been.”
“For forever,” Ron murmured. Hermione nodded.