Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Right Place, Wrong Time?	By : Shan84 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 7811 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series nor any of the characters from the books/movies. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Author note: Thank you for reading :)

Tom stared at Hermione who had abruptly stopped laughing at him and was now staring at him rather strangely.

"Something the matter?" he asked as he pushed himself off the door and stepped into the middle of the small room, crossing his arms.

He watched as she straightened herself and righted her robes. "No, nothing's wrong. Why would you ask that?" she asked, but Tom noted how she quickly averted her eyes before sliding them back towards him again.

Tom mentally scoffed at her evasiveness. For someone who seemed as annoyingly intelligent as she was, she was rather terrible at hiding her emotions, to him anyway – idealistic fools like Skeeter easily believed what she wanted them to believe.

"Right," he replied blandly, as he watched her.

She quickly turned to face him. "What? It's nothing," she insisted rather quickly, before looking down at her nails as if trying to appear casual.

Tom merely arched an eyebrow, and continued staring at her, hoping to unnerve her. Of course she was lying. He watched as she stood up much straighter, looking slightly miffed at his reaction, before gathering a certain nonchalant air around her.

"It's just that…" she paused, and he almost scowled when he saw a small smirk appear on her lips, "I was surprised that you ran away from that old lady." She stated in an airy manner so different from her usual tone.

Suddenly, whatever unease Tom thought he had initially seen in her disappeared and, much to his great annoyance was replaced with a smug look; as though she knew something he didn't. It made Tom want to hex her. If she had any idea what he was really capable of, she wouldn't act the way she did now! Instead of reacting, Tom merely eyed her.

"Why does that surprise you?" he finally asked.

He watched as she walked around to the small table and leaned back on it. "Well… not sure really. I just…" she paused and then shrugged her shoulders at him as if that was a good enough answer.

"You think I would actually enjoy spending my lunch break listening to her senile nonsense? Then, of course, she might follow me back to the shop – wouldn't be the first time that's happened," he explained, though he wasn't sure why exactly. All he knew was that he just wanted to wipe that 'know-it-all' smirk off her face.

"That popular are you?" she replied humorously whilst crossing her arms.

"No, it's just my idea of self-preservation… I'm trying to keep my sanity intact and all that," he replied whilst watching her; she looked as though she wanted to roll her eyes.

"Right, you were in Slytherin," she confirmed and a small smile ghosted her lips for a fraction of a second before it disappeared again. Tom didn't miss it though, and again felt as though she was in on a joke that no one else knew.

"Been studying the Hogwarts houses closely have you?" he asked.

Hermione looked at him and he would never admit to anyone that he was surprised to suddenly see a rare, genuine smile on her face. "Just because I didn't go to Hogwarts with any of you, doesn't mean that I don't know anything about the place… Hogwarts, a History is one of my favourite books."

"If you enjoy the book so much, why didn't you ask your parents to go?" Tom asked curiously.

Hermione's jaw set and she sighed loudly. "It wasn't an option," she replied, looking down, and Tom could instantly tell that whilst there was some kind of underlying frustration on the topic, that seemed to be all she would say. For the time being, he thought, the need to know who exactly she was and why she was here arising to the forefront of his thoughts again.

Tom exhaled loudly and moved to lean against the same table as Hermione, pretending not to notice how she stiffened slightly in their close proximity. It seemed as though she was extremely uncomfortable with him breaking a certain 'personal boundary' with her. Whilst one part of him stored this away as an observation that he could potentially use against her, he couldn't ignore the other part of him which became somewhat aggravated. He was not used to women being unnerved by him and wondered why she, of all witches, was such a special case that his proximity seemed to cause such a negative reaction.

Tom looked around for a clock and his eyes fell upon an old brass contraption which showed he only had about 10 minutes left of his lunch break. "I wonder how long it will take Tarquin to get rid of her," he commented.

Hermione glanced at him and then quickly stood up. "I wonder if I can hear them through the door? I'll just go check…" She suddenly said, and Tom raised his eyebrows at her tone. He wondered if she was looking for a way to not be in such close proximity to him. The way she quickly scurried over to the door was answer enough to him. Tom watched her with a great deal of amusement; this witch was so painfully obvious, it would actually be fun for him to find ways in which to make her uncomfortable.

He observed as she leant with her ear pressed against the door; her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to hone in on whatever conversation was going on outside. For a few moments she was silent, until some kind of recognition dawned on her face; she could obviously hear them. She turned back to Tom, with a look of slight confusion on her face.

"They – well, her for the most part – are talking about…" and she pressed her ear against the door as if to confirm what she thought she heard, "something called, er, bungo?"

Tom audibly groaned; the old bat was talking about her stupid pet cat Bungo. Tom couldn't count how often he had been subjected to listening to tales about the ancient beast who, despite its advanced years and multitude of health problems, just wouldn't die… which of course, meant more stories that Tom was subjected to whilst she had her month long reign of terror at Borgin and Burkes. In fact, the cat was rather like its hideous owner, he thought to himself – as it just wouldn't die. With someone as sickeningly polite as Skeeter, Tom knew that his chances of escaping without notice were very, very slim.

"Who or what is a Bungo?" Hermione asked him after noting his reaction, whilst still listening through the door.

"Is Skeeter even trying to get rid of her?" Tom asked, slightly irritated, completely ignoring Hermione's question.

"Well I'm trying to listen," she replied, sounding frustrated.

Tom rolled his eyes and quickly stood up and strode over to the door where, facing Hermione, he too leant against the door trying to work out the pace of the conversation. His frustrations were confirmed, when he deciphered the muffled voices: Mrs Bisley was well into her story about Bungo and Tarquin was simply making polite noises. He realised that Skeeter was probably the worst person to take on getting rid of that woman. He suddenly looked down when he heard an annoyed huff coming from below him; surely enough, Hermione stood there looking extremely expectant. Tom merely cocked an eyebrow at her, which caused her to narrow her eyes at him.

"Who or what is a Bungo?" she repeated her earlier question, watching him closely as he again invaded her personal space.

"It's her pet cat. I'm surprised she never mentioned it to you the other day," he commented as he stared back at her. Again, she appeared to be uncomfortable, and he wondered what was going through her mind as she had obviously thought she had gotten away from him before.

Instead of stepping backwards, like he expected her to, she remained standing where she was. "No, she was too busy talking about the history of Diagon Alley," she muttered in annoyance, whilst pushing some strands of errant hair out of her face.

Tom watched her fix her hair with amusement, causing her to scowl when she worked out what he was looking at. He noted that it seemed to get frizzier as she let her emotions get the better of her. He had never seen a witch with such hair, and had never seen hair react the way to magic that hers did. Tom thought it was highly amusing, but decided not to say anything… yet.

"Tarquin is never going to get rid of her," he decided to say instead. "I suppose, he's not exactly the kind of person who could get rid of her…" he then mused.

Her eyes darkened, "And what exactly do you mean by that?" she asked bossily.

Tom's eyebrows shot up in surprise. So, the little witch was protective of her Hufflepuff was she? Tom held his hands up, "I just meant that Tarquin is too nice to tell an old lady to go away – you can't deny that it isn't true," he replied easily.

She huffed, but he knew that she was accepting his response. "I suppose you have a point there," she replied as she put her ear against the door again trying to listen.

Tom listened too, and realised with mounting frustration that he had to go back to work soon. He looked around the small room in frustration; there was no back door exit, except for a set of stairs. Curiously, he wondered what was up the stairs.

"Where do the stairs go?" he asked, and could tell that she was surprised he had just changed tack like that.

"Nowhere important."

Tom eyed her disbelievingly. "Is there a way out via the stairs?" he asked.

"No, there's not."

"Are you sure? They could lead to anywhere…" he said, and went to walk towards the stairs.

Before he got a chance to walk away, he felt a small hand grip his forearm tightly before quickly falling away, as though burned. He turned and saw Hermione staring at him with wide eyes, as though she was surprised at her own actions, and didn't mean to grab him.

"Th-there's nothing up there, just my flat," she quickly said as she looked down at the hand she had just restrained him with.

Tom now realised why she reacted in the way she did. So, she was living above the shop whilst working there. Tom suddenly wondered out of curiosity what her flat looked like… and the fact that all of her project work would be up there.

"Oh?" he asked, acting completely unaffected by what had just happened. "And there is no way of escaping via your flat?"

"I think I would know if there was a way of escaping via my flat," Hermione muttered in annoyance.

"I have to get back to work soon," Tom commented, watching as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the door.

"Oh. I suppose you do…" she replied in a disinterested tone, which made Tom's jaw slightly tick at her impudence towards him. "How could you leave through the back anyway?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, your book is still out there," she smiled, much too pleased with her 'discovery', as if she was enjoying the idea of him having to go back out and face the old bat. "You'll have to get it before you leave."

Tom smirked at her, and enjoyed watching the smug look on her face slowly turn into one of confusion. "You think I would just leave Wenlock's book sitting around unattended in a book shop?" He asked incredulously.

"Well, I don't see your bag in here," she commented whilst gesturing towards him.

"Perhaps I thought so highly of your undetectable extension charm that I made my own version," Tom replied as he patted his robes. He watched with amusement as Hermione's face quickly dawned with realisation before flushing a deep shade of pink.

"I… I…"

But before Hermione could stutter whatever she was trying to say, Tom interrupted, "You should be flattered; such an ingenious way to use magic," he said smoothly and watched as her cheeks became even pinker.

"I didn't notice you get the book out before," was all she rather lamely replied with.

Tom didn't say anything, instead he enjoyed how flustered she became from his compliment, and watched as she looked anywhere around the room except for him. Tom noted that her hair, whilst unmanageable before, was now a bushy mess and was fluffing all over the place. He realised that she was far more affected by him – whether it was in a positive or negative way – than she put on. He could tell by her hair alone.

Hermione must have noticed what he was looking at and unconsciously moved her hand up to her hair, before quickly moving it back down and scowling.

"You might make it worse by getting more infuriated," Tom commented and watched as her narrowed even more.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she hissed, "I do not need-"

But before she could continue her rant the door suddenly flew open, causing Hermione to fall forwards and trip over her own feet. Arms flailing, she looked like she was bracing to hit the ground as she squeezed her eyes shut for the inevitable. Tom would have laughed at the comical image before him, but thought of a better idea and quickly took a step towards her, causing her to land heavily into his chest instead.

"Ow!" she whimpered, as Tom quickly wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her so she didn't send them both toppling over.

He looked down at her and was instantly assaulted by her crazy hair fluffing into his face. He looked up again and smirked as Tarquin stood at the door with a wide-eyed expression.

"I wondered where you two had gone," Tarquin exclaimed as he watched Hermione trying to adjust her awkward stance in Tom's arms, "I was just going to say that Aunt Valeria has managed to get rid of Mrs Bisley; she took her out for a cup of tea," he explained whilst still staring at the two of them.

Tom felt Hermione wiggle in his arms, and he looked back down at her, she was looking up at him incredibly sheepishly – obviously mortified at the whole situation. It only made Tom's smirk turn into a full blown grin, which caused her to widen her eyes even more.

"I can stand now," she said quietly.

"Okay," he replied and she quickly stepped out of his embrace, "that's the second time I've saved you now," He said just as quietly.

She looked slightly confused, "Yes… ironic, isn't it?" she muttered more to herself than himself or Tarquin, causing Tom to furrow his eyebrows in confusion at what he interpreted as an insinuation.

Hermione was in a bad mood. Today was her birthday, she was still stuck in the past and she still hadn't finished Wenlock's book. It didn't help that she was still dreadfully embarrassed about falling into Tom Riddle's arms yesterday. Tarquin had kept giving her meaningful looks all afternoon and subsequent morning – as if waiting for her to give him some kind of 'big reveal'. Well, she huffed to herself, there was absolutely nothing to 'reveal'!

"Something the matter?"

Hermione looked up at Tom as he sat across from her. Of course, it didn't help that the source of all of her embarrassment was currently sitting across from her; having turned up like clockwork to read the book as though nothing had happened the day before. As though she hadn't fallen into his arms; making a complete fool of herself in the process.

"Hmm?" she hummed at him, trying to hide the embarrassment and frustration she currently felt. The fact that he acted as though nothing even happened was even worse than teasing her. She wanted to demand why he had 'saved' her – yet again – as he had so eloquently put it. His 'nice' act was grating on her nerves. She knew he wasn't nice, and it was getting more frustrating by the day to have to sit and watch him act as though he was some kind of gentleman in front of her. Yet of course she would never dare to confront him; it was much too dangerous and would arouse too much suspicion on her behalf… because he wasn't suspicious enough, her mind snarkily reminded her.

"You just huffed," he explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, did I?"

"Yes… something you just read bother you?" he asked whilst eyeing her closely.

"No, of course not," she replied shortly, and returned her attention to the book.

She tried concentrating on the book in front of her. It was fascinating, it truly was. But she felt completely unnerved at the moment. The fact that he picked up every, little thing she did made her feel as though she were coming undone at the seams. The fact that she was still here, not home, like she had planned made her realise the mistake she had made allowing Tom Riddle even an inch into her space.

She thought she'd merely be a flash in this time and yet, here she was, dealing with the darkest wizard who had ever lived on what felt like a daily basis. All of this might have been okay if she was merely a flash in time, but she had realised that she had captured his curiosity and had no idea how to fight or stop it. She knew she was playing with fire, and whilst Hermione's confidence in her skills outside of book smarts had grown exponentially as she matured into a young woman, she still knew she was no match for Voldemort – no matter how old he was.

Hermione quickly looked up at Tom who seemed to have his attention on the copy of the Daily Prophet he was currently reading. She watched as his eyebrows furrowed a little as he read – his eyes scanning the pages at an alarmingly quick rate. Being stuck in that room with him yesterday and then unfortunately being thrown into his arms (again) made her feel even more aware of how mesmerising he truly was. Hermione was never the one to gush about someone's looks – believing that people showed their true worth through their capabilities instead – but even she couldn't deny how attractive he was. It wasn't just his symmetrical features or dark hair either; it was the way he carried himself; so charming, so confident, so unsuspecting... His looks coupled with the knowledge he held was a destructive and deadly combination.

"Do I have something on my face?" he was suddenly looking at her, effectively pulling her from her thoughts with a knowing smirk on his face.

Prat, she thought and rolled her eyes. "What are you reading about?" she asked instead.

"Just the usual Daily Prophet rubbish… how they get away with half the stories they print, I'll never understand," he said with a hint of disdain.

"Who are they defaming this time?" Hermione asked, recalling her years of having to put up with articles from Rita Skeeter.

"Newton Scamander," Tom replied.

"What? What on earth are they saying?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"Some nutter has come forward claiming that Scamander stole his research on magical beasts and his policy idea on the Werewolf Registry," Tom replied.

"That's ridiculous! Everyone knows that he is at the forefront of research on magical beasts!" Hermione screeched without thinking.

Tom's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he dropped the paper, holding his hands up in a mock-surrender. "I didn't write the article," he said as he looked at her with a teasing expression.

Hermione's cheeks reddened. "Sorry," she muttered, "I just really can't stand how the Prophet gives these fools the time of the day."

"And a whole page spread… sounds like a disgruntled former Ministry employee who worked under him," Tom commented as he re-scanned the article.

"Typical," Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, haven't they got anything better to report on?"

"Obviously not," Tom replied.

"It's just despicable," Hermione replied hotly – allowing her temper on the matter to get the better of her, "The way that they just think they can report such rubbish! And what other source does the wizarding world have? At least in the muggle world newspapers are supposed to adhere to certain acts of decency and ethics, and there is usually more than one source where people can get their information if the newspaper is a tabloid!" Hermione's voice became more shrill as she became more outraged.

"Perhaps you should start your own paper then…"

Hermione quickly swivelled her head around, as it wasn't Tom who made the comment, and was surprised to see Alexander Lestrange leaning against a bookcase.

"Oh," Hermione started, embarrassed at having being caught mid-rant, "Hello, Alex."

"Hello, Hermione," he replied politely before turning and nodding his head curtly at Tom, "Riddle."

"Lestrange," Tom replied, and Hermione noted the lazy disinterest Tom regarded Lestrange with - she bet that it was done on purpose too.

Could they be any less obvious in their animosity? Hermione thought as she eyed the pair of them.

"So… Hermione, how have you been?" Alex asked, turning his attention back to her.

"Fine thanks," Hermione replied and gave him a polite smile. "How are you?"

"I've been well," he replied with a small smirk on his face as he eyed her.

"That's good," Hermione replied, and gave him an expectant look, she was curious to know what he was doing here. She thought after he took her to ice cream that would probably be the last she would see of him.

"Okay, well… The reason I'm here is that Alphard – well, Alphard and I – were wondering whether-"

"Alex! Well isn't this just a nice little reunion!" Tarquin loudly interrupted as he rounded the corner. He looked between the three of them, noting Alex's stance at the interruption, "Oh, sorry! Was I interrupting something?"

"No, no, it's fine Tarquin," Alex quickly responded, "I was merely here seeing what Hermione was up to tonight – being a Friday night…"

Tarquin turned to Hermione and gave her an amused look, which caused her to flush. "Well its Hermione's birthday today," he announced proudly, looking at her with a grin.

Hermione wanted to groan loudly and let the ground swallow her up. She really didn't want either Tom or Alex to know that it was her birthday. Although, she reconciled with herself that she shouldn't have told Tarquin about it if she wanted to keep it absolutely secret.

"Happy birthday, Hermione," Alex said with a smile.

"Thank you," Hermione replied genuinely.

"Yes, happy birthday, Hermione," Tom said and Hermione turned to look at him and found he only looked as though he found the situation far too amusing, for her liking.

"Thank you," she replied and gave him a smile too – not wanting to appear hateful in front of Tarquin and Alex.

"Are you doing anything special for your birthday?" Alex suddenly piped up.

But before Hermione could say anything Tarquin spoke up, "I've planned a dinner for Hermione actually. Then we are going out to that new place The Palace in Diagon Alley for drinks and dancing," he announced.

"We are?" Hermione asked in surprise. He hadn't mentioned any of this to her, preferring to keep her out of the loop and drop annoying hints that she had no hope of ever guessing.

"Sorry Hermione, I know I've been annoyingly cryptic, but then I wasn't sure if you'd need to buy anything to wear – it's quite a fancy place," he turned and explained to her.

"Oh," Hermione replied. Well he had a point there; she hadn't bothered buying anything dressy since turning up here. The few outfits she had bothered getting were definitely not suitable to wear out.

"That's where Alphard and I were going tonight, I was actually going to see if Hermione would join me – ah, I mean us," Alex explained to Tarquin.

Hermione just wanted to die of embarrassment right then and there. She thought Alex had gotten the hint when she had mentioned Ron and made it clear that she did not see that trip to the ice cream shop as a date.

"Say! Why don't we all meet up? The more the merrier!" Tarquin said cheerfully.

Forget dying of embarrassment, Hermione decided that she really wanted to dismember Tarquin in a slow and painful manner.

"Tom, you could bring your friends too, that's if you've got nothing on?" Tarquin then enquired.

Oh yes, Tarquin I will dismember you very slowly, Hermione thought maliciously as she eyed the boy in front of her – someone who she had thought was perfectly innocent. Well obviously, judging by the little glint in his eyes, he was not as innocent as she initially thought.

"Why, I don't have anything planned, that's very kind of you Tarquin. But only if it's okay with Hermione?" he said and turned to Hermione with an innocent expression on his face that made her want to strangle him.

She wondered if it was possible to dispose of both Tarquin Skeeter and Tom Riddle in the next five minutes without Alex noticing anything illegal was going on.

She smiled awkwardly, trying to cover up her absolute fury, "Why… no, I don't mind – why would I?"

Tom grinned at her, "Well then, if Hermione is okay with it, I'm sure we can make an appearance."

"Great!" Tarquin exclaimed, not even picking up on the tension between Hermione and Tom, "Well it looks like we'll have a real party tonight!"

"Excellent," Alex replied, though Hermione thought he didn't sound as happy now that he knew that Tom was coming. "Well I must be off; I have some business to take care of… Hermione, I shall see you tonight," he smiled politely at her, nodded towards Tom and Tarquin and took his leave.

"Well," Tom began, looking at the both of them, "I have to get back to work."

"Alright, we'll see you tonight Tom," Tarquin replied, "I'll go check how Aunt Valeria is going up the front." He smiled and walked off.

Hermione sighed and closed the book and handed it back to Tom. He took it and put it in his robes, smirking when she realised he was still using her undetectable extension charm.

"You're almost finished reading it," he said as he stood up and adjusted his robes.

"Yes, I suppose I am," Hermione replied, not really sure what to say now that they were alone, "Um, thanks for letting me read it… again. It's been absolutely fascinating."

"Not a problem Hermione," he replied, "Well, I guess I'll see you later tonight." He smirked at her, before turning in a confident manner and walking out before she could say anything.

Hermione watched his tall form disappear from view before she leaned back on her chair and rubbed her temple tiredly.

"Hermione…"

She looked up and found Tarquin standing before her.

"I am not talking to you right now," she muttered in annoyance and looked away from him.

"Oh come on! It'll be fun! We're going to have a lovely dinner and then go out on the town!" He exclaimed happily.

Hermione rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue.

"Are you annoyed that I invited Tom and Alex… two blokes who seem to be both interested in you?" He cheekily grinned at her.

Hermione whipped he head around at him and glared. "Tom Riddle is not interested in me, Tarquin!" Hermione wanted to groan in frustration. She wished she could just tell Tarquin why his suggestion was such a bad one. But of course, she couldn't say anything about Riddle or Lestrange for that matter. She realised that perhaps she would just have to grin and bear the evening. Perhaps she could pretend to have a stomach ache and leave early.

"And what about Alex?" he then asked, interrupting her plans of escape.

"What about Alex? I told him that I have a boyfriend. If he can't understand that I'm not interested then that's his own problem." Hermione huffed.

"So will Ronald be making an appearance then? You did say you would let him know in an owl," Tarquin asked.

"Well no… he, ah, couldn't make it," Hermione replied awkwardly and fiddled with a lock of hair.

"Really? He can't even come to your birthday? I know my word as a bloke doesn't mean much to a girl, but if you're going to get engaged this would've been the perfect opportunity to ask," Tarquin mused.

Hermione huffed. If she was back in her own time she most probably would be engaged by now. It already upset her enough that Ron and the rest of her friends and family couldn't be there for her, but to constantly have to lie about it hurt much more

"Cheer up, Hermione; it's your birthday and who knows? Maybe he'll surprise you and show up. Plus, Aunt Valeria said you could have the afternoon to go shopping if you need to. And, I invited Minerva and she'll probably come around early anyway. Perhaps you can go shopping together?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Look I really appreciate you organising something for me, but please stop trying to make something out of people's attention which simply isn't there," she explained awkwardly.

"Darling, I tell things how I see it… if you continue to live in denial that's your own problem," he said as he held his hands up in mock innocence.

"Yes and I tell things how I know them, thank you very much!"

"Yes, but you don't know everything!"

Hermione thought it was lucky that Tarquin was quick on his feet, because he had already ran off and hid behind one the many bookshelves laughing by the time she had pulled her wand out.

"Thanks for coming shopping with me," Hermione said to Minerva as they weaved their way through the usual crowds in Diagon Alley.

"Not a worry. When Tarquin invited me to your birthday, I thought I would just come into London early. I have to run a couple of other errands too, if that's alright?" Minerva asked.

"No, that's fine. I suspect we'll be in and out of the shops pretty quickly. I just need to find a dress that isn't too expensive," Hermione explained.

"Oh, I actually know a good place!" Minerva said.

"Good, the less I have to look around Diagon Alley, the better. Honestly, this birthday is becoming more hassle than it is actually worth. I just wanted something small and now we are stuck going out dancing!" Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"You shouldn't have trusted Tarquin… actually I should have warned you. I broke up a number of after hour parties that he had organised back in school." She said with a grin on her face.

"Why am I not surprised?" Hermione muttered. "Oh, but I should warn you that Alphard will probably be there tonight."

Minerva turned and looked at her with wide eyes. "Alphard? What do you mean?" she asked, sounding immediately worried, at the idea.

Hermione explained how Alex had come into the shop and asked what she would be up to that evening and how Tarquin had proceeded to invite him and Tom Riddle to come to The Palace with them.

"That bloody sneaky Slytherin!" Minerva exclaimed at the end of Hermione's story.

"Who?" Hermione asked, wondering which Slytherin she was blustering about – there were a couple to choose from, after all.

"Alphard, of course!" she ranted. "He's been owling me non-stop since we saw him that time in the Leaky Cauldron. I finally relented and began owling him back and I mentioned you in a few letters – and your upcoming birthday…"

"So, you're suggesting he knew and then planned all of this?" Hermione asked in surprise. "But does Alex know you are together? Does that mean he's in on it too?"

Minerva shook her head. "No, as far as I'm aware Alex has no idea about us… which only means one thing…" She looked at Hermione and her expression went from anger to amusement.

"What? What does it mean?" Hermione asked.

"Alphard obviously knows Alex likes you and has manipulated the situation to suit himself… Oh, I knew he was sneaky but honestly… he's actually put a lot of thought into things for once!"

"You cannot be serious," Hermione responded in disbelief.

"Oh I'm dead serious," Minerva replied. "He knows what Tarquin is like too… Oh this just gets better and better. Wait until I get my hands on him tonight!

"But what's the point of Alphard doing this if no one knows that you're together?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Who knows? But lately he's been acting strangely; maybe because we rarely see each other."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "But you won't be able to do anything whilst there are people all around you…" Hermione then said.

Minerva's face flushed to an incredible pink. "That's never stopped Alphard before, he can be quite creative when he wants to be…" she trailed off, obviously embarrassed about even mentioning it.

Hermione tried to hold her laugh in. The fact that she was currently talking to one of her old school professors about her love life was just… well, for once in her life Hermione was finding it difficult to find a suitable word. She giggled and Minerva rolled her eyes.

"What are you laughing about?" she asked, obviously still embarrassed.

"Oh, you know, just… boys and how ridiculous this all is," Hermione answered with a smirk on her face.

Minerva's embarrassment slowly ebbed away and she laughed shortly. "Yes, I do suppose you are right," She stopped and motioned for Hermione to follow her, "Come on, we're here, let's find you a dress shall we?"

Hermione stood in front of her small bathroom mirror trying to work her hair into a somewhat acceptable up-do. She had actually remembered to buy some bobby pins and was currently working them into holding up a rather dubious looking bun. Right when she had gotten the last bobby pin in, a massive lock of hair fell out of her bun, causing the rest of her hair to tumble out. Hermione swore in frustration.

"What on earth are you trying to do?" Minerva asked as she popped her head into the bathroom and looked curiously at Hermione's now ruined hair.

"My stupid bloody hair won't do what I tell it to do!" Hermione huffed.

"Well, I could help if you want?" Minerva offered.

"Really? You would know what to do with this mess?" Hermione turned around and pointed to her head.

"Well, it's all about working and enhancing what you already have – instead you're trying to work against your hair," Minerva lectured as she pulled out her wand and turned Hermione back around to face the mirror. "You have natural curly hair; we can really work with this." She continued, as she magically removed all the bobby pins and ribbon Hermione had already put in her hair.

"Good luck," Hermione muttered sarcastically.

Minerva didn't respond and concentrated on getting the tangles out of Hermione's hair. She then waved her wand silently and Hermione watched in amazement as her hair began de-frizzing and calming down. Minerva then summoned some sort of hair pomade and lightly dabbed it throughout Hermione's hair, causing it to stay in place. She swept Hermione's hair into a side part and then transfigured two bobby pins into red jewelled clips, securing them into her hair to hold it back off her face.

Hermione looked into the mirror in shock. Yes, her hair was still a mass of curls, but it had lost the tangled look she so unfortunately suffered from on a frequent basis. Hermione still felt like herself, if not a bit dressier. She noted that the transfigured clips in her hair glimmered in the lights and secured her hair nicely. Hermione smiled.

"There! It's still you," Minerva commented as she admired her handy work.

"Thank you, I really need to get that spell off you," Hermione replied gratefully.

"Eh, it's easy... I was in a dorm with a girl whose hair was much curlier than yours – believe it or not." She smiled. "Plus the clips match the red dress!" She added.

Hermione grinned and looked down at the dress; it fell just below her knees and nipped in dramatically at her waist. Despite this, Hermione felt exceptionally comfortable in it – it fit so perfectly. The neckline, whilst lower cut for the evening, was still much more demure than anything she was used to wearing in her own time. She had already decided she was going to transfigure her normal heels and beaded bag to match her dress. Hermione, whilst not someone normally so preoccupied with fashion, decided to simply enjoy the moment for what it was. It had been such a long time since she had dressed up for anything, even before getting stuck in this time. She couldn't actually remember the last time she had dressed up.

"You look lovely, fit enough for a birthday party, I'd say!" Minerva said and Hermione laughed at the compliment.

"Thanks, you look lovely as well," she complimented. Minerva was wearing a blue halter necked dress, similar length to Hermione's dress, with a cap sleeved black bolero over it. Both girls had kept their make-up simple, with a bit of blush, mascara and lip stick all they needed.

"Well, let's get a move on then," Minerva said and the two girls pulled their coats on and left the flat.

"Do you have any idea where we are going for dinner?" Hermione asked as they made their way down the stairs.

"Actually that's the one thing Tarquin didn't tell me. I already knew about the idea of going to the palace for dancing – hence Alphard's scheming," Minerva rolled her eyes, "though this dinner is a mystery," she explained as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Ladies! Well, you are both looking lovely tonight I must say!" Tarquin exclaimed as he stood waiting for them in the office. "If you'll allow me to take your coats, please," he asked and held out his arm.

"Oh. Are we apparating somewhere?" Minerva asked curiously.

"No, but I think you'll be pleasantly surprised," he grinned cheekily. Hermione noted how handsome he looked dressed in a suit; she thought it was a pity the girl he liked was in another relationship.

Both girls took off their coats and Tarquin sat them on the desk. He then opened the door and Hermione couldn't stop the gasp of amazement as she looked around the stop. It had been entirely transformed. The book shelves had disappeared and in the middle of the shop was a dining table which sat around six people. The store was lit with a number of floating candles, creating a soft light to the atmosphere.

"H-how did you manage to do this?" Hermione asked and spun around to Tarquin who was leaning against the door watching her reaction in amusement.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore is apparently a pretty good wizard," he replied with good humour.

"Don't give me all the credit Mr Skeeter, you were marvellous in assisting me," Professor Dumbledore said as he stepped out from nowhere.

Tarquin blushed slightly. "I merely followed your directions Professor," he replied humbly.

"Never underestimate what you can do; you're a very competent wizard." Dumbledore replied seriously and then turned to Hermione with a friendly smile on his face. "Happy birthday, Hermione! I must say when Mr Skeeter owled me, I couldn't refuse the opportunity to celebrate," He said and handed a box of chocolates with a beautiful ribbon wrapped around them.

"Th-thank you, Professor," Hermione replied, still stunned, "Thank you for coming – I wasn't expecting this at all."

"My pleasure… and when I heard Valeria would be cooking, I had to RSVP straight away," he chuckled.

Hermione quickly spun around and looked at Tarquin, "Thank you Tarquin, you really didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"Nonsense, it's your birthday!"

"And what's a birthday without great food or drink?" said a recognisable voice from the front of the store. All turned and saw Valeria entering with a large picnic basket. "Happy Birthday Hermione!" She said happily, "Now you know where I've been all day!"

"Thank you," Hermione replied gratefully.

"Did you make Yorkshire puddings?" Tarquin asked as he quickly walked to take the picnic basket from her and sneak a peek.

"Tarquin Skeeter! Get your nose out of there!" Valeria admonished. "Yes, of course I made Yorkshire puddings! Now everyone, sit down and make yourselves comfortable."

"She makes the best Yorkshire puddings," Tarquin commented to Hermione as they made their way to the dining table and sat down.

Valeria sat the picnic basket down and waved her wand. Suddenly all the food moved out of the basket and onto the table. Pork roast, various steamed and roasted vegetables, the Yorkshire puddings, several bottles of champagne and a delicious looking chocolate birthday cake all settled on the table.

Tarquin quickly poured everyone a glass of champagne and held his glass up, "Happy birthday Hermione, here's to new friends and great food!"

Hermione grinned and quickly stood up. "Thank you everyone, really, I couldn't even ask for such a beautiful dinner. Let's have a fun night – cheers!"

Everyone laughed and clinked their glasses, "Cheers!" they all echoed.

"How strong was that champagne Tarquin?" Minerva asked in a suspicious manner as they left the shop and wrapped their coats around them.

"Who knows? Aunt Valeria has quite the cellar… I used to raid it for sc-" Tarquin began to say but then quickly cut himself off and looked pointedly at Minerva.

"Oh give it a rest, Tarquin, I'm not head girl anymore – you're not a student, and I knew about your parties anyway, considering I spent many Friday and Saturday nights breaking them up!" Minerva announced.

Hermione laughed at the two of them, the champagne had slightly gone to her head. She was pretty sure that either Tarquin or one of the others had been continuously topping up her glass all night; because Hermione didn't remember ever filling it up herself. In fact, she was trying to be careful about how much she drank considering who she would be seeing later on in the evening. None-the-less, she was now feeling decidedly bright eyed and light headed.

"All I know is that I better not drink much more," Minerva announced as they walked down the streets.

"Where is this place?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, it's next to that café – just up the road here," Tarquin replied.

"I'm curious to see how they fit a dance club there…" Hermione wondered out loud

"Oh it's upstairs, and they've charmed it to make it bigger of course," Tarquin explained.

"How wonderful, I can't wait to see it," Hermione said.

The other two agreed, and as they got closer to their destination they could hear the faint sounds of music coming from the building. Hermione listened to it and noted how different it was to the club music of her time. There was no throbbing bass or electronica, instead it sounded like an actual real life band was playing. Hermione wasn't massively into clubbing in her own time, but when she did go out she liked to have a good time. What a pity she would have to put up with both Riddle and Lestrange – for equally different reasons of course. Riddle's curiosity surrounding who she was and her project was becoming increasingly obvious; whilst Lestrange's possible romantic interest was completely unwanted.

She reasoned that she could always leave early if they got too annoying, by either feigning a stomach ache or too much alcohol. She really hoped it didn't come to that though. She had decided that she didn't want her night ruined – it was her birthday after all, and Tarquin had gone to so much effort to make sure she'd have a great time.

They entered the front door and went up the rather ordinary stairwell that led to the club. Leaving their coats with a witch in a small cloak room at the entrance, they walked through the doors. Hermione was awestruck; this place looked, well, like a palace. It was busy too, she noted, as she looked around, it was going to be difficult to get a seat or lounge for that matter.

"We might have to wait a bit for a seat," Tarquin commented, "Let's just go get a drink and have a look around."

Hermione and Minerva both nodded and followed him to the bar. Hermione couldn't help but admire the priceless looking chandeliers lining the ceilings, adding a warm glow to the club. The gold and royal blue hues added a nice touch with comfortable looking lounges and tables surrounding a rather large dance floor. A small band energetically played in front of the dance floor however Hermione found that unlike clubs in her own time, she could still hear the people around her. The music was great, but it didn't overpower the atmosphere.

They finally made it to the bar and a bartender quickly flicked a menu to all three of them. They perused the menu and the girls decided on another glass of champagne whilst Tarquin said he was going to have a glass of firewhiskey. However, before they were about to order, Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder. Quickly turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Alex.

"Oh! Hello, Alex!" she greeted, and noted that both Minerva and Tarquin turned around at her greeting.

"Hermione, I thought it was you. You look absolutely stunning," he complimented her, causing her cheeks to heat up in embarrassment. He then turned to Tarquin and Minerva, "Ah hello Skeeter and Minerva – it's been a while." He greeted rather stiffly.

Hermione couldn't help but frown slightly at his awkward greeting. Was it because Minerva was a muggleborn?

"Ah, Alex, yes it has been a while. You don't seem to have changed a bit." Minerva replied politely. Hermione wondered whether there was anything underlying in her comments.

"Yes, I suppose so," he replied. "I've come down to invite you all to our table upstairs." He offered.

"Oh, are you sure? We wouldn't want to interrupt," Hermione replied.

"Nonsense. Anyway, aren't we celebrating your birthday?"

"Yes, I guess we are," Hermione replied before turning to the others, "Is that okay with you both?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Tarquin asked incredulously. "Of course we want to!"

"Well I guess that settles it then," Alex said and held his arm out to Hermione. "May I escort the birthday girl?"

Hermione felt incredibly uncomfortable. Alex of course looked exceedingly handsome, but she already felt like her worst fears for the night were coming true. However, she pasted a small smile on her face and acquiesced, despite noting the small look of worry sent to her by Minerva, and linked her arm with his.

They headed upstairs and if Hermione thought that the downstairs was opulent, she realised it had nothing on what was obviously the "VIP" area. The lighting was much softer upstairs, and the area was filled with private booths which looked to be able to expand – depending on the number of people sitting at them.

Lestrange led them to a table which was at the far end of the room. Hermione immediately recognised Alphard, and almost smirked as she noted how his attention was immediately drawn to Minerva, his eyes raking over her dress in a surreptitious manner. She turned to look at Minerva and almost wanted to laugh at her expression: one of haughty annoyance. Minerva was still obviously irritated at Alphard for his scheming ways in getting them to come here tonight.

Hermione then watched as Alphard got a look of confusion on his face before what looked like disappointment. She secretly thought it served him right. Because of him she was getting even more unwanted attention from Alex and then there was the domino effect of Riddle coming along tonight – possibly with his little gang.

They finally arrived at the table and Hermione noticed a third person there. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she took in the extremely familiar features of this person and suddenly wanted to quickly walk the other way – far, far away.

"Hermione, this is our friend Abraxas Malfoy," Alex introduced her to their blonde haired companion.

As her sneaking suspicion became a reality, Hermione couldn't believe she was meeting the grandfather of Draco Malfoy. As she looked closer at the young man in front of her, she realised that the similarities between Draco and his grandfather ended with their trademark white blonde hair. Whilst Draco had narrow and pointed ferret-like features, Abraxas' features were much broader and whilst he wasn't a big man, he wasn't as weedy looking as his grandson. Hermione had to grudgingly admit that he was actually quite handsome if you liked the blonde, athletic looking types.

"It's a pleasure, Ms Hermione Edwards was it?" Abraxas asked, whilst standing up and shaking her hand.

"Yes, that's correct. A pleasure to meet you Mr Malfoy," Hermione replied politely.

"Oh, please call me Abraxas. We are, after all, in the company of friends," he replied and gave her a small Malfoy worthy smirk.

"Okay… Abraxas," Hermione corrected. "You can call me Hermione then."

"So! What's the birthday girl drinking tonight then?" Alphard interrupted cheerfully.

"Oh, well we were going to get our drinks when Alex found us. If you give us a moment we'll just go and get our drinks and be right back," Hermione explained.

Alex raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Nonsense, it's your birthday, have a seat and we'll get some drinks brought over on us."

"Oh no-" Hermione began to protest.

"Hermione, we insist," Alphard spoke over her quickly.

"How about we do a round each – except for the ladies that is," Tarquin suddenly spoke up. "Ladies should never pay for their drinks on a night out."

Hermione was about to protest about how sexist that was and that she was perfectly capable of paying for her own drinks until Alex spoke.

"Hermione, can you consider it as your birthday present from us?" he asked with a cajoling tone to his voice.

"Come on Hermione, be a good sport!" Tarquin added with puppy dog eyes.

"Oh, fine!" Hermione relented – much too easily in her own opinion. But it was easier than listening to their whining all night. She tried to reason that they were only trying to be chivalrous and that she was not sending the women's movement backwards by accepting a few drinks from them.

They all sat down as Alphard waved over a waitress who took their orders. Minerva and Hermione decided to stick with champagne whilst the others all chose firewhiskey. Hermione almost groaned in annoyance as she realised she was now squished into a booth with Alex on one side and Minerva on the other who seemed quite satisfied in shooting Alphard death glares any time he tried to make eye contact with her.

She was relieved when the champagne magically appeared on their table and didn't object when Alex poured her a drink. Abraxas, seated on the other side of Alex, began to ask Hermione questions about her stay so far in London as well as polite questions about her upbringing. Despite how much she had had to drink, she still managed to carefully reiterate the story she had told to many others – including the fact that she was only in London for academic purposes.

In turn she prompted Abraxas to speak about himself and observed in amazement how polite a Malfoy could be when they weren't aware of blood status, although he was still disgustingly arrogant. She observed the rest of the table and noted how Alphard and Tarquin had finally managed to rope Minerva into a conversation and they seemed happy enough, even eliciting a laugh from Minerva every now and again.

Hermione wondered when Riddle would show up – not that she cared about actually seeing him – it just seemed like the anticipation of him coming made her feel on edge compared to if he was just sitting across from her being annoying.

"Hermione, do you need to go to the bathroom?" Minerva suddenly piped up from beside her.

Hermione looked at the girl next her, "Um n-" she began, about to decline.

"Yes, that's what I thought. Come on now, let's go," she ordered and grabbed Hermione's arm to pull her away.

Hermione glanced at the men at the table but before she could say anything Minerva lead her by the hand towards a small hallway with a bathroom sign on it. When they finally arrived in the toilets Minerva locked the door and groaned loudly.

"That bloody, sneaky arse doesn't even think he's done anything wrong!" she started ranting as she walked over to the mirror to check her reflection.

"Well of course he doesn't Minerva, it all worked into his hands didn't it?" Hermione responded dryly.

"Yes of course! Using you as a pawn… Wait a second! That's what I was actually going to ask you… is Alex aware that you're muggleborn?"

Hermione stiffened and looked at her own reflection in the mirror. "Well…"

"Oh I should have known!" Minerva quickly interrupted. "Do you know how dangerous this is? You do know how bigoted they are don't you? The only reason that they tolerate me is because when I was head girl Alphard told them it would make his job much easier if they let me be. It also helps that I've hexed them in the past so they know they can't get away causing trouble."

"What does it matter if he does?" Hermione replied hotly. "I don't owe him any explanations about my heritage!"

"Because he obviously really likes you Hermione… You'd have to be blind not to see it! He hasn't been able to stop looking at you since you showed up!"

"Well that's his problem, isn't it? I've already told him that I have a boyfriend," Hermione replied. "Anyway, what am I supposed to do? Walk around with a 'muggleborn' badge on? It's not like he's asked me outright what my heritage is!"

"Well don't say I didn't warn you…" Minerva replied in a warning tone.

Hermione decided to ignore her last comment and put the focus back on her. "Enough about me… what are you going to do about Alphard?"

"No idea… I just needed to move away from the table and let some frustration out. He can be such a git, but it's so difficult staying angry at him," she sighed.

Hermione chuckled, she could relate to that. Ron continuously drove her up the wall with his antics though she often found it was too difficult staying angry at him for long periods of time.

"Well I'm going back to the table – now that I've let some steam off," Minerva replied.

"Okay, well I'm just going to use the bathroom and I'll be right with you," Hermione replied.

Minerva said her goodbyes and left Hermione to it. She went and used the bathroom, double checked her hair and make-up - satisfied that it was still sticking, freshened up and then left to head back to the table herself. As she walked down the hall she stopped in her tracks at the sight of Minerva and Alphard talking very closely in the hallway. She rolled her eyes; he must have been waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. Honestly, those two are impossible, she thought. She watched as Alphard leaned down and pressed a light kiss on Minerva's cheek before saying something. She was standing too far away to hear their conversation but by the looks of it, whatever he had said had caused her to blush immensely. Hermione wondered if she should stay standing there or try and walk past them without being noticed – either way she still felt awkward standing in the hall like that.

"Are those two still together?"

Hermione almost screeched at the familiar voice coming from so closely behind her. She quickly spun around to face one sneaky future Dark Lord.

"Must you always sneak up on me?" Hermione asked hotly, trying to hide her embarrassment of screeching so ridiculously.

Tom looked down at her with a smirk. "Why not? It's much more fun," he commented lightly.

Hermione scowled at him. "It's very rude," she admonished, though her comment came across as half hearted. By now she had unfortunately had the chance to take him in and not even she could deny how handsome he looked in that moment. Whilst he was always wearing a suit for work, this one was much more formal, and Hermione found herself unable to look away from him. It probably didn't help that he was standing ridiculously close to her – yet again – invading her space as well as her senses. Bloody hell! Why must he be so handsome? Hermione thought crankily. Again, she bemoaned the fact that it just wasn't fair that someone like him could be so attractive.

"Yes Hermione?" he asked, raising an elegant eyebrow – as if he knew how his looks were currently affecting her.

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "Nothing…"

"Really?" His smirk turned into a grin which was getting wider and wider as the seconds wore on.

"Well actually," she began to say, "How do you know about Minerva and Alphard?" She asked bossily.

Tom grinned and then rolled his eyes. "I turned up for a prefect meeting early one day and had the unfortunate experience of hearing them getting rather amorous with one another. Trust me when I say it made me re-think how important being punctual actually is," Tom replied, though his grin didn't go away.

Hermione pursed her lips. She highly doubted that he simply "stumbled upon" them by accident. No, she suspected that Mr 'I-Need-To-Know-Everything-About-Everyone' was probably watching their body language towards one-another for ages and then put it upon himself to find out what their relationship was. He then no doubt stored the information away as something he could use against them in the future.

"Don't get too angry, Hermione, it will only ruin your hair," He commented lightly as he looked at it.

Hermione self-consciously brought a hand to her head. Luckily it still felt fine. It annoyed her to think that he already knew that her mood could often be told by how her hair was sitting.

"What very kind advice," she responded sarcastically.

"Well it does look quite nice… though, I personally like being able to tell when you get angry – what a shame whatever spell has been cast on it stops that," He replied in faux disappointment.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

His eyes flashed as he took her in, "Only that sometimes you are far too transparent for your own good," He responded casually as he looked her over.

Hermione stiffened. She had seen the glint that passed through his eyes – for some reason it felt like he was playing a game with her. The teasing atmosphere from their banter disappeared and she felt her breath catch in her throat as she looked at him.

He turned away from her and looked towards where Minerva and Alphard had been standing. "Oh look, the two love birds have gone, looks like we can go back to the table now," he said so casually, as if nothing had just passed between them.

Hermione let out the breath she was holding, nodded her acquiesce and followed him back to their table. She noted that Dolohov and Rosier were the only ones in Riddle's gang who seemed to be there. Minerva and Alphard were sitting apart, though Minerva was sitting closely with Tarquin and looked to be very uncomfortable with the group of purebloods she was currently sitting with.

As they walked back to the table all eyes were suddenly on them and Hermione immediately tried to ignore the rather intense look on Alex's face. Tom merely smirked and much to Hermione's fury stepped a little closer to her as they reached the table, causing Alex's eyes to narrow even more. Hermione's seat next to Alex had since been taken by Dolohov who appeared to be discussing something with Malfoy. Malfoy was still chatting with Dolohov though Hermione noted the suspicious glances he was discreetly shooting between her and Tom.

"Ah! There's the birthday girl!" Tarquin exclaimed. "Good job on finding her, Tom!"

"Well we can't have the birthday girl go missing," Tom replied as the booth magically expanded again and they both sat down, with Hermione ending up stuck between Rosier and Riddle.

Both Dolohov and Rosier wished her a happy birthday whilst Alex poured her another wine and sent it down to her. She couldn't help but take a large sip, considering the fact that she was sandwiched between Voldemort and one of his death eaters.

"Steady on, Hermione," Tom murmured, "You don't want to get drunk."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, his tone was very dubious. She had to remind herself that Alex poured the drink – not Tom.

"I have no intention of getting drunk," she replied haughtily.

"Okay," he replied in a disbelieving tone, causing Hermione to roll her eyes and take another sip. "So why didn't your boyfriend show up?" He asked suddenly.

Hermione stiffened and felt her cheeks heat up in annoyance. "He's… working," she answered.

"What does he do?" Tom then asked.

Without even thinking Hermione stated the first thing that came to mind. "He works with dragons in eastern Europe," she replied blearily, wondering if she recalled enough of Charlie's stories to pass this off as being believable. She then wondered if it was such a good idea to say it in the first place, but figured it was better than nothing.

"Oh," Tom replied simply.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "What? No questions? I'm shocked! You are normally so full of them," she commented dryly and took another swig of wine. She looked down and realised her wine glass was suddenly empty… well she drunk that faster than what she was meant to. She frowned down at the glass, as if willing it to fill up again.

"Why, you assume too much Hermione," she heard Tom say, but she ignored that. Her wine glass was empty and she wanted a refill. She was about to answer him when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Alex standing there.

"Care to dance?" he asked.

Hermione didn't really want to dance – she wanted more wine – but she shrugged her shoulders and nodded anyway, feeling slightly light headed. Alex smirked and took her hand, leading her up to the private dance floor.

When they were finally on the dance floor Alex led them around to some music Hermione had never heard before. She found she had to crane her neck to look up at him; he was pretty much the same height as Riddle.

"So are you having a fun birthday?" he asked.

Hermione craned her neck to look up at him, "Yes, it's been good. Though I miss my family," she replied honestly.

"Understandable," he replied. "It's a shame your boyfriend couldn't come," he added and studied her.

Hermione felt her cheeks flush at his close attention.

"What I mean to say is… ah, he shouldn't have missed your birthday."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Are you saying that it's wrong of him to do so?"

Alex cleared his throat. "Well… yes…" He then seemed look resolute on something, "You should never miss the birthday of your significant other."

"Well sometimes these things can't be helped," Hermione huffed.

Alex, noting her scowl, suddenly smirked. "Though it does mean one thing…" he trailed off.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"I get to dance with the pretty birthday girl without worrying about getting hexed by her boyfriend," he replied and then laughed at Hermione's expression.

Hermione gaped and he laughed harder at her expression. She was blushing furiously now and hoping that the dance floor would suddenly swallow her up whole. She wasn't used to all this complimenting, it made her feel uncomfortable.

They continued dancing and chatting about random topics that didn't really mean much to Hermione. She was still feeling quite light headed and felt like all of the wine she had drunk both at dinner and in the club had finally caught her. She found herself laughing a lot at things Alex said and judging by his expression at times, she wasn't exactly sure if she was supposed to find some of the things funny.

She was laughing at some story he was telling about a trip to France when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw Minerva standing there.

"Sorry to interrupt," she began looking at both Hermione and Alex. "I was just going to let you know that I've got to head off."

Hermione became instantly disappointed. "Oh no, why?" she asked, frowning.

"I've got an early morning tomorrow and need to get back to Hogwarts," she replied.

"Oh, well thank you for coming! Do you want me to walk you to the floo?"

"No, that's alright, there's a floo downstairs in the club – I'll just use that," she replied.

Both girls hugged and said their goodbyes. Hermione watched as Minerva walked down the stairs of the ViP area and go out of sight. She also noted that Alphard was no longer at the table. She wondered if he had left to say goodbye to Minerva in a more private capacity. For some reason – well perhaps it was the wine – the thought made her giggle stupidly.

"What's so funny?" Alex asked.

"Oh, nothing… I think the wine was a bit strong," she replied.

"How much have you had to drink?" he asked, though she noted the expression on his face meant that he didn't seem too concerned.

"Hmmm… not really sure… they kept filling my drink up at dinner so I've lost track," she replied and laughed at his amused expression. She looked over at the table, "Oh look, it's Smith," she observed rather loudly. "What's he doing here?"

She watched as Alex narrowed his eyes at the blonde who had a very attractive girl with him and was currently awkwardly talking with Tarquin, who seemed more focused on the girl than him.

"Not sure - he's certainly not welcome, the cheat," Alex replied disdainfully.

"Who is that girl with him?"

"Oh, that's his little girlfriend… Melanie den Boer."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Merlins pants!"

"What?" Alex quickly asked.

"Oh I really shouldn't say…"

"Skeeter obviously likes her… if that's what you are insinuating. I can see it from here," Alex observed and then smirked down at Hermione.

"Okay, okay, you're right; though you didn't hear anything from me!"

Alex snickered and they both watched as Smith and the girl she know knew as Melanie take their leave. She couldn't really see Melanie that well, but could tell that she was tall with blonde hair. Tarquin's eyes dreamily followed Melanie until they were finally out of sight.

Continuing to dance, they had a bit of a laugh about Tarquin's obvious attraction to the girl. Although she was also slightly wary as Alex seemed to take the joking around as flirting and she had to constantly find subtle ways to not be pulled too closely into his embrace. Hermione suddenly felt another tap on her shoulder and found Tarquin standing there with a big, stupid grin on his face.

"Mind if I dance with the birthday girl?"

Alex looked slightly disappointed but nodded anyway. Hermione had to admit she was slightly relieved. At least she knew that Tarquin wouldn't try to flirt or stand too closely too her. As soon as they were dancing Tarquin allowed his big-grin to widen.

"So, how's Melanie?" Hermione asked with a teasing smirk.

"You saw all of that then?" he asked.

"Er, it was hard to miss," Hermione replied bluntly.

"Right," he nodded.

"You didn't say she was with Smith!" she said.

Tarquin sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"Why is she with such a prat?" Hermione asked.

"Who knows…? They've been together since fifth year. Maybe she's been with him for so long now that she feels obliged to eventually marry him or something," he replied and Hermione noted how glum he sounded now.

"Oh Tarquin," Hermione sighed in sympathy.

"It's alright…"

"How long have you liked her?" Hermione asked.

"Since fifth year. I was going to ask her out but was beaten to it. Before I knew it we had all finished and left school and they're still together," he replied.

Hermione sighed sadly; it was simply unfair. She was curious to meet this girl now to find out what it was that Tarquin loved so much to keep him interested in all these years.

They continued dancing for some time but Hermione had noted the shifted mood now that they had spoken about Melanie.

"I'm just going to head to the bathroom, meet you back at the table?" Hermione asked.

Tarquin nodded and Hermione left the dance floor and headed off to the ladies room. As she was returning and down the hall she spotted Alex and Malfoy talking quite heatedly. They were so consumed in their discussion that they didn't see her approach

"- nothing about who she is, and she hangs around with mudbloods like McGonagall and Riddle – who is trying to make her mark on her too," Hermione heard Malfoy hiss at Alex.

"She's not with Riddle and I doubt she's a mudblood. Dolohov told me she was home schooled by her parents and she's an extremely competent witch. She talks to McGonagall because she's on a project with Dumbledore," Alex replied.

"Will you listen to yourself? Are you that hard-up for witches that you're pursuing one you know nothing about?" Malfoy retorted.

Hermione clenched her fists in anger. How dare they judge or speak about her in such a manner? Calmly, she began walking and approached the pair. Alex saw her first and with one look she knew that he realised she must have overheard what had been said. She noted that Malfoy's expression was blank, but he was watching her intently.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I'll be going. Obviously my company isn't up to your bigoted standards," she sneered as she walked past the two of them.

"Hermione, wait!" Alex called after her. "It's not what you-"

"I really don't care what you have to say or think!" Hermione quickly cut across him. "I'm not interested in your weak justifications! And I won't listen to anyone be belittled because of their parentage!"

And with that, Hermione stormed off, not listening to Alex's calls. She shouldn't have been surprised at their conversation really, but it didn't mean that it made her any less angry. She stormed over to the table and noted Tarquin wasn't there. She didn't look at any of the other boys as she quickly turned to Alphard.

"Can you tell Tarquin that I've gone home and will speak to him tomorrow?" she asked Alphard as he looked up at her in confusion.

"What's the matter? What happened?" Alphard asked, looking concerned.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Why don't you ask your friends?" she sniped before storming off again, not even looking backwards.

Hermione furiously trudged back down Diagon Alley towards her flat. How dare those stupid purebloods talk about her as if she was some kind of sport? Well, Malfoy could sleep well at night now, knowing that she'd never go for his precious friend anyway! Honestly, how many times did she have to tell Alex that she already had a boyfriend? What part of it didn't he understand?

"Stupid, stuck up, no good Slytherins!" She muttered and furiously kicked a random pebble out of her path as she continued her tirade down the street, not even noticing the number of people who jumped out of her path looking worriedly at the cranky witch.

"Come on, we're not all that bad…" said a voice beside her.

In a panic Hermione drew her wand and spun to face the person who dared to interrupt her tantrum. Tom Riddle stared down at her wand in amusement and then back up at her. Holding his hands up in mock surrender he smirked.

"Are you alright there Hermione?" he asked with amusement clear on his face.

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "I'm fine. Now, if you'll kindly excuse me," she sniped and began walking off. Unfortunately for her, Tom followed and his long legs were, once again, easily able to keep up with her short, angry steps.

"Let me guess… You were lucky enough to observe the magnificent charm of Malfoy and Lestrange?" he asked lightly.

"And how would you know?" she huffed.

"Oh after you stormed out, well Lestrange ran out looking as though Christmas had been cancelled and Malfoy is well… Malfoy," he replied and shrugged his shoulders – a bit too casually in her opinion. "Let me guess again… Malfoy was onto Lestrange about your… qualities and whether you are deserving of his precious friend?"

Hermione tensed and stopped, turning towards him. He stopped and merely watched her. "How do you know that?" she asked incredulously.

"Malfoy has been observing your interactions with Lestrange all night… nice dancing by the way." He smirked.

Hermione glared at him and began walking again. When she realised Tom was still walking beside her, she stopped and looked at him. "Why are you still following me?" she asked, trying to keep the worried tone from her voice.

"A lady should never walk alone in Diagon Alley at this time of the night," he replied almost mockingly.

Hermione held back the urge to snort. Yes, because Tom Riddle escorting her back to her flat was a far safer option than her walking alone. She needed to find a way to get rid of him, and fast.

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much," she replied rather haughtily.

"I've no doubt. The reactions of those innocent bystanders to your trampling through Diagon Alley are testament to that,"

"Well then why are you still walking with me? I can get home by myself," Hermione replied and then internally cringed at how bossy she sounded towards him. She instantly regretted drinking all of that wine as it made her feel much more outspoken. And being outspoken around Lord Voldemort was not a good idea at all.

Tom smirked. "I was merely curious as too… what offended you so," he mused.

"Oh, so you just assume I'd tell you?" She raised an eyebrow.

Tom merely shrugged. "It never harms in asking - you never know what you'll find out by simply asking," he replied plainly.

Hermione paused in surprise. She recalled how Voldemort had found out about Horcruxes… he was right… he did simply ask – and got what he wanted. Of course his carefully cultivated image helped, but Slughorn could have still refused to discuss it with him and he would have had to find other means to find out about Horcruxes. It was amazing what people would tell you when you put them on the spot or surprised them so that they felt compelled to tell you what they knew.

"I suppose you are right about that," she conceded slowly.

"Of course I am. So what upset you?" he continued.

Hermione felt a sudden rush of anger go through her. He wanted to know what they said did he? They were only repeating almost verbatim the same beliefs that Lord Voldemort himself held about muggleborns. In fact she was surprised that they weren't all best friends, sitting there discussing the company Hermione kept. She then remembered how Malfoy had mentioned Riddle as well in his mudblood slander. Hermione smirked at that; how utterly ironic.

She looked back up at him and decided to humour his question. "Oh, Malfoy was simply concerned about the company I keep… yourself included," she replied airily. "Did you know that Malfoy is very concerned about mudbloods?" she added sarcastically and felt a rush of satisfaction when she noticed how his jaw clenched.

"I thought so," Tom simply replied.

"You know, because I'm friends with Minerva too… and of course that's a worry for Malfoy because she's muggleborn too," she emphasised the last part and knew it was dangerous to do so, but she couldn't help herself and it just slipped out.

"I'm not actually muggleborn," Tom replied with a stony expression on his face.

"I don't really care what you are. I judge people on their personality and capabilities. And when it comes to witches and wizards, I judge on magical talent – rather than who their parents are or what their last name is."

"How idealistic of you," Tom commented lightly, though his face still remained tight.

"I think its common sense actually," she replied with finality.

Tom remained silent and Hermione regarded him. She wondered what sort of nerve she had hit. There was nothing he could really say in response to what she had just said. Nor could he be angry at it… he could sneer at it; call her idealistic, but he couldn't really attack her for it. Not if he wants to keep his precious charade up, she thought.

They reached the door of the bookshop and Hermione looked up at Riddle. He looked down at her and suddenly a smirk appeared on his face.

"You know, I'm actually surprised you claim not to know much about me," he suddenly said, causing Hermione to wrinkle her brow in confusion.

"Why would I know anything about you?" she asked in response.

Tom shrugged – again, all too casually. "You work with one of the biggest gossips around… I'm surprised he didn't tell you anything…"

"If you think we sit around discussing you, well… I've no words for that really," Hermione replied haughtily.

"People like to gossip, talk… I'm just making an observation on normal human behaviour," he replied and studied her closely.

"Well I'm not like that," Hermione replied, feeling uncomfortable at how closely he was standing to her.

"Indeed… If I may say, you do seem to be a special case," Tom said.

"Not really…" Hermione reasoned. As she looked up at him she couldn't help but notice how he looked. No wonder he was described as being so popular in his school days. His dark hair was ruffled slightly from the night breeze and his cheeks held a faint flush in them from the cooler weather. Hermione hated that his looks had suddenly distracted her in such a way; she had to remind herself of what he had already done and what he would eventually do. Though having to deal with him on such a frequent basis made it extremely difficult to reconcile that. She had to distract herself from the awful things otherwise it would be almost impossible to cope with seeing him.

"You know, I wonder something about you Hermione… I think you don't like to talk about others because you don't want to talk about yourself," he suddenly said.

Hermione blinked and stared up at him. He was now standing much too close to her. "What do you mean?" she asked quietly, feeling a little afraid now.

"Well, it's simple, isn't it? You turn up in London, a complete mystery, with no real definable past. You never attended Hogwarts, say it's your first time in London and yet you are working on a 'special' project with Dumbledore. You react differently towards certain people and situations… and let's not forget the incident with Vablatsky," he mused as if he was ticking off some kind of mental list.

"That doesn't mean anything," Hermione replied, though she couldn't betray the weak tone in her voice.

"You just seem so very… alone…" He said quietly and leaned one of his hands on the door above her head so he was now leaning over her. As he studied her, a sharp glint passed through his eyes.

"I'm not alone," she replied and instead of feeling scared she felt anger begin to well up inside of her. Trying to intimidate her was he? Well, she'd had enough of Lord Voldemort's shenanigans throughout her schooling years, and then there was the fact that she had to wear his locket horcrux for such a long period of time… The disgusting and vile things it tried to make her believe not just about herself, but those surrounding her caused her no end of grief even after it was destroyed. Being reminded of that time in the forest caused her anger to swell even more and she scowled at Tom as he continued to stare down at her, obviously unaware of what she knew about him and was currently thinking. His arrogance shone through as he studied her and it made her resolve against him suddenly become even stronger.

Just as she was about give him a piece of her mind he shocked her into silence again as his other hand reached out and touched her hair. Leisurely, he twirled an errant lock in his fingers and examined it as though it was suddenly the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. He continued playing with it as he turned back to look her in the eyes. A small smile graced his lips as he looked down at her.

"I see… that the spell couldn't contain your hair after all Hermione," he said quietly, his dark eyes searching hers.

Hermione could only stare back at him as he continued to twirl the lock of hair in his fingers almost absentmindedly as he watched her reaction.

"It's like I said earlier tonight; it's almost wonderfully… telling," he then smirked and dropped the lock of hair. She didn't miss how his hand lightly ran across her shoulder. "Goodnight, Hermione," he added and took a step backwards, creating a normal distance between them again. "I'll see you later."

With that Tom Riddle gracefully turned and walked off into the night. Hermione watched him until she could no longer see him. Taking a shuddering breath, she turned and unlocked the door. As she shakily turned the handle, she told herself that the only reason she was reacting this way was due to his suspicious questioning… not the fact that she could still mentally feel his hand in her hair and on her shoulder.
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