He insisted that Miss Dumbledore would sit next to him during this Monday morning's potions class. He still was not sure what to make of this strange girl. She had impressed him on Sunday with how clam she had been able to remain when the other female students tormented her with not so nice teasing. Furthermore, the way she had behaved in front of Professor Slughorn proved to him that she was an intelligent confident witch who absolutely knew how to have a polite conversation and comply with common etiquette. So why did she treat him so differently?
It was obvious that she would never buy his chivalrous act. Regardless of what he did or said, she always seemed to look for a hidden, bad intention. Just like this morning, when he told her that the spot next to him was free and he would like her to sit down there, she just shot him a dark glare and accepted the invitation with obvious unwillingness. Why?
Should he simply believe her story that she was better than other people in detecting false niceness and that it was normal for her to get suspicious when she met someone wearing a mask? She had sounded convincing while telling it, which is why he almost believed her when she told him she was not interested in fighting him. No one was interested in fighting him, not even a rather powerful witch like her, he had made sure of that himself.
Still. There were so many little things that did not make sense. She met him with an amount of rejection that surpassed normal suspicion. Adding to that, more often than not, real fear was mixed with this despise, fear that none of his actions could have caused. And then there were these moments when she was weirdly provoking, even defiant. Their quarrel was trivial in Hermione Dumbledore's eyes? He knew she used these words purposefully to anger him. What was she thinking, sometimes being unreasonably panicked when talking to him, only to then provoke him and acting unreasonably confident?
He only half listened to Professor Slughorn, who was writing the instructions for the potions they would be brewing over the next weeks on the blackboard. They were supposed to work with partners as the potion seemed to be advanced and some ingredients they would only be able to obtain from the greenhouses during the late evening hours. Tom noticed how Hermione flinched at that declaration. She obviously did not like that she sat next to him today and thus would be forced to work with him over the next weeks.
"Tom, my boy," Slughorn interrupted his reflections, "could you please come to me for a moment?"
With his most charming smile, he got up and stepped forward to his professor. It did not go unnoticed by him that Hermione, who he left behind, sighed in relief. Why was she always so anxious when he was around?
"What can I do for you, professor?"
"You see, Tom," Slughorn started, and suddenly he noticed that his usually so confident professor was hesitating. He raised an eyebrow to signal he was willing to listen. With a deep sigh, Slughorn then explained a little bit too quick: "Miss Dumbledore is the only woman in this class. You will be working with her for this potion and you will need to go down to the greenhouses when it's dark. I know, you are a respectable young gentleman, Tom, still I feel it is my duty to remind you that you should not take advantage of a lady in a situation like this."
Tom had to fight an incredulous snort, but he quickly recovered. Of course, good old Slughorn was the white knight for all the untouched virgins, always concerned with proper manners. He forced a serious, thoughtful expression on his face and replied: "You are absolutely right, Sir. Your worries are understandable, but rest assured, I would be the last man to even think of taking advantage of this situation. Also, please believe me when I say that Miss Dumbledore would be better equipped than any other girl to defend herself against any scoundrel that would dare to try something."
"I know, I know, Tom," Slughorn was quick to assure. "You are a virtuous boy. But as your teacher I just have to remind you. I hope you don't interpret this as excessive interference?"
"Of course not," he replied with an open smile. "Your worry honours you and shows that you are a responsible teacher. I am thankful for your words and your trust."
When he returned to Hermione, he noticed that she already copied all instructions from the blackboard and even started noting down where to find every ingredient. Next to some of the ingredients Tom noticed cryptic letters and numbers.
"What did Slughorn want?" she asked after he sat down again, though she did not lift her gaze.
He decided to not comment on her rudeness, instead replying dryly: "He wanted to make sure I'll not assault you in the dark when we go to the greenhouses."
Now she looked up from the parchment, and for just the shortest amount of time, Tom thought he saw amusement in her eyes, but instantly the usual blank expression returned: "How very nice of him. Did you plan on taking advantage of the situation?"
Insulted, he raised an eyebrow: "I don't need to assault women. It just so happens most of them would willingly give into me."
Laughing shallowly, Hermione stared at him with an intense expression in her eyes: "I rather thought you'd use that opportunity to get rid of me."
Even though he tried not to, Tom could simply stare at the girl. What was she thinking? Did she not just say that she no longer was interested in their quarrel? Why was she again provoking him? Or was she serious? Did she actually fear he would do something to her? Was that why she was so anxious when Slughorn first talked about the project? Why would she even think him capable of actually doing anything? Sure, he had thought seriously about it over the weekend, but there was no way she could possibly know that. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a fitting reply. It was not like him that another human rendered him speechless, a woman of all people.
"My question obviously was a joke," Hermione finally continued, her face still intense, but blank, "but judging from your shocked stare, I have to assume my shot in the dark actually was spot on."
Needing every ounce of composure, Tom relaxed his fists that he involuntarily had clenched, and mirrored her blank stare: "You're out to get me even at the slightest opening. Were your words at Slughorn's party a lie?"
"Do you really wonder why after everything you did and said to me so far, I still am unsure whether you're friend or foe?" she quietly hissed before returning her gaze back to her parchment. "I have no interest in quarrelling with you, yes, that is true, but can I really trust you think the same? I'm simply cautious, Tom Riddle. Can you really with a clear conscience say that there never were moments where you actually thought about hexing me?"
As if this conversation was finished, she then continued making notes for every ingredient. Tom found himself unreasonably annoyed at how unimpressed she appeared. Even though he did not want to admit it, she was right. It always was better to err on the side of caution, and he even would have been disappointed in her if she actually would have trusted him so easily. Would he be able to change that? She knew he was not the charming gentleman everyone took him for. Would he be able to persuade her that he meant her no harm? Would it be possible to gain her trust after this miserable start? She was not her uncle, she was just a young girl, simple to influence and manipulate.
It would be an interesting game.
"What do these abbreviations mean?" he asked after deciding that just for the moment, he would try and see how she would react if he hid his condescension. He was used to hiding his true thoughts and emotions and if he managed to hide them from her long enough, who knew whether she might indeed trust him some day. Who knew what use it might have to manipulate an intelligent witch that happened to be related to Dumbledore?
"Those are abbreviations for titles and page numbers where you can find details on the specific ingredient," Hermione explained without looking up. "I have a rather good memory of the books we use for this class and where to find the necessary information, so I quickly noted down everything. If we want to produce a good potions, simply adding the right ingredients in the given order isn't enough," she continued while grabbing a book from the pile in front of her, "as I was painfully made aware of during my sixth year."
Hermione did not like to recall how often Harry would brew a perfect potion, just because he followed the instructions of the Halfblood Prince's book. When it finally turned out to be Snape's book, she no longer wondered how the author could be so genius. Obviously, Snape had spent his free time gathering as much information on every single ingredient and potion as possible, only to then correct all instructions in a way that a perfect potion was ensured with every brewing process. She had learned her lesson then.
Impatiently Hermione noticed that Riddle still simply stared at her with a blank face. Sighing, she turned to him: "What?"
"Charming as ever, dearest Hermione," he commented derisively while crossing his arms before his chest. "Wherever did you accustom yourself to such language?"
"Well, excuse me for not reacting charmingly to your rude stare," Hermione snapped, adding, "You could, you know, try to help me. Read the pages I noted down and write a short excerpt of what they say for every needed ingredient. Or was I wrong in assuming this actually would be a group project?"
"Are you implying I'd let you do the work and be lazy?"
Why did Tom Riddle sound so amused? Amused definitely was not a tone that was befitting for him, at least not when dealing with her. It made her nervous that he suddenly treated her so differently, especially since she could not see why he started to put up a front like this after they discussed how she saw right through it. It had to be a front if he talked to her without threats or condescension, right? Unsettled, Hermione defiantly claimed: "I'm used to do the work of my classmates."
"Me too," Riddle offered, still friendly, "usually I am the one who has to order the other students to put in work. It's an odd feeling, this. Especially coming from a girl."
With a distorted smile Hermione looked at him. Harry and Ron never cared for school and somehow, it always ended in her helping them. Sometimes they did not even have to ask for it, because she could not help herself, she had to do it for them. It was mindboggling that Voldemort of all people would be as helpful and accommodating during his time in Hogwarts as herself.
"It has nothing to do with gender," she shot back, "and different from you, I don't have any hidden agenda when offering help. I do it to ensure the success of the group project or simply because I like someone. I don't expect anything in return."
Slowly, Riddle leaned forward to grab the first book from her list. While he opened it at the indicated page, he quietly asked: "What gives you the impression that I have a hidden agenda?"
Hermione almost wanted to say "Because you're a Slytherin!" but she remembered just in time that technically, she was one now, too. Gritting her teeth, she hissed: "You friendliness is a mask, so it's not a bold assumption to say you being helpful is, too."
To her horror, Riddle grinned in return: "No one helps other people without ulterior motives. Even those goody two shoes Gryffindors. You at least expect gratitude. The difference is, we Slytherins don't hide that we expect something in return. Why do you act like a Gryffindor, pretending to help others out of kindness?"
Stubbornly, Hermione ignored his condescending remark about her old house and instead replied: "You're not listening. I'm helping my friends without expecting anything in return, simply because they're my friends. That's called loyalty. In group projects, I try my best because I want to receive good grades. If someone else wants my help, of course I'll demand something in return."
"Of course," Riddle sneered, but as Hermione was not interested in talking about this any longer, she ignored him.
She just needed to look up the last three ingredients in the books, then her list would be complete. That should be doable in the remaining ten minutes of this class. Thoughtfully, Hermione looked at the last ingredient: flabberghasted leeches. She had used normal leeches before when brewing the Polyjuice Potion, and now wondered why this specific type of leech was used for brewing Dr Ubbly's Oblivious Unction.
And then she wondered why she even cared to actually put effort into class projects. She definitely had better things to do than care for good grades in 1944, regardless of whether her other self had been top of her class or not.
She knew the answer to that, though. She did not actually have a choice in that matter, it was simply her nature. Regardless of how irrelevant her school accomplishments were, she just could not not try and do her best. As it was her task to gain Tom Riddle's trust, perhaps even friendship, she could as well try to get close to him using their similarity: the joy they found in studying.
"Now, what do I see here?" Professor Slughorn's voice interrupted her concentration. "My two best students are the only ones not yet starting the brewing process?"
Hermione would have rolled her eyes at that, but instead she composed herself and replied with a smile: "We wanted to be well prepared, as this potion is so difficult while also being very useful for the hospital wing. If we produce a lawless result, our potion might be of use for it."
An appreciative smile appeared on Slughorn's face: "Commendable, very commendable indeed! Don't you fear though that you might not be able to finish in time?"
Now Riddle intervened, who, as Hermione thought she could see, was just as displeased with their professor as herself: "Professor Slughorn, the potions would need a magical freeze regardless, as the brewing time is not as long as the duration of this project. Whether we start today or on Wednesday won't make a difference, will it?"
"I see, you thought of everything," Slughorn agreed with a huge grin and patted his back. "I am happy to see just how splendidly you and Miss Dumbledore are working together. That is magnificent indeed. Now, make sure to pack your books and off you go. Class dismissed."
Quickly, Hermione stuffed the books into her bag, grabbed her parchment and hastened towards the exit. She spotted Abraxas who was just leaving as well, and she decided it was time that they talked. She could not accept that their friendship would end before it really started, just because Tom Riddle might perhaps have said something. Without looking back, she caught up to the platinum blonde.
"Abraxas, wait, please!"
To her relief, the young man turned around, even though he appeared to hesitate and looked unwilling. She could see his gaze wander back to where Riddle was, but as the head boy was still packing up his bag, he returned his attention to her: "How can I help you?"
Impatiently, Hermione raised an eyebrow: "Beg your pardon? Why are you so stiff and formal with me? Yes, we just met, but you act as if you never were interested in me. Why?"
Obviously speechless, Abraxas stared at her. Hermione was not willing to let it slide, though, so she simply crossed her arms expectantly while they climbed the stairs together. It took a while before she finally got a rather bland reply: "I didn't intentionally avoid you, if that's what you're thinking. It just happened."
"It just happened," Hermione snorted. "Sure. Abraxas, what is going on?"
As though she hit a sensitive spot, Abraxas suddenly stopped in the middle of the stairs and turned to her with an angry expression: "Why are you in Slytherin, Hermione? Your whole demeanour screams Gryffindor. Those always want to be open and honest and direct at all times. Are you really incapable of noticing fine undertones? Are you incapable of reading situations and behaviour? Do you honestly expect me to open up if you dig deeper? You're too curious!"
Bewildered, Hermione stared at him. So Tom Riddle really did interfere in her relationship with Abraxas. Had his so called friend threatened him that any friendship with her would not be good? Frustrated, she pressed her lips together while still waiting to see whether Abraxas might offer an apology at least. He though simply stared her down, both hands buried deep inside the pockets of his cloak.
"Fine," she hissed, "I understand. I'm not so blind as you imply, Abraxas. I know exactly what is happening, I simply didn't take you for a coward."
That hurt him, Hermione realised the second she was finished speaking. He stepped closer to her, forcing her back against the wall. Without breaking their eye contact, he whispered: "You don't understand a thing. I'm not a coward. I have friends, though, good friends. I hardly know you. If I have to choose between two friends, why wouldn't I choose the one I've known for many years?"
"No one forces you to choose," Hermione insisted. It frightened her that Abraxas cornered her in exactly the same way as Riddle had done, but she did not think he would be as cruel. At least he confirmed that Riddle forbade their friendship. Interesting. And frigthening.
"What's going on here?"
Speak of the devil. Hermione's gaze wandered to Tom Riddle. Abraxas stepped back again, looking apologetically at his friend: "We just had a bit of a – conflict of opinion."
"You're fighting with Miss Dumbledore?" Tom asked, pretending to be surprised. "Did your mother not teach you to never disagree with a woman?"
The obviously confused look from Abraxas told Hermione more than either of them would have liked, or at least she suspected as much. Riddle really did interfere a lot. Furthermore, there definitely was no friendship between those two wizards. What would describe it best? Did Riddle already prove his power to his former friends and turned them into followers who were busy pleasing him at all times? Was that why Abraxas was so confused, because he was not sure anymore whether to treat her politely or reject her? If this had not been a matter of her own security, Hermione would have laughed about the absurdity of this behaviour. Those two were just seventeen years old, but already behaved as though they were the mafia.
"Be nice to Miss Dumbledore, Abraxas!" Tom ordered the other boy while at the same time linking arms with her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "She's new here and needs any friend she can get. You two seemed to get along so splendidly before."
Hermione was very aware that Abraxas now was totally confused and unable to cope, though she could not blame him. What was Riddle playing at? If he first ordered Abraxas to stay clear of her – for whatever reason! – and now publicly said the opposite, it had to mean that he was planning something. Why this sudden change in tactic? Surely it could not all have to do with Slughorn's party on Saturday. That would be too quick, too unbelievable. It frightened her.