Nervously Hermione stood in front of her huge bedroom mirror and picked at her hairstyle. Tonight would determine the future of her relationship with Tom Riddle, at least she planned to use it in such a way. Her first priority was to convince him that there was no reason to make her disappear in secret. That was a challenge in itself after everything that happened. Perhaps though, if she went about this the right way, she would be able to establish a basis for a better, possibly even friendly relationship. Friendship definitively was the wrong word though when used for any relationship with Riddle – accomplice was more accurate, she suspected. Perhaps even supporter? Whatever the name, she needed to show him that she was not the enemy.
Repeatedly Hermione let her gaze travel over her image in the mirror. She had to admit, she loved the fashion of the forties. The feminine dresses that put an emphasis on the waist, followed by wide, swinging skirts that ended just under the knees, were exactly what she liked to wear. Even though she preferred simple jeans with a shirt for her everyday life, she was excited to feel so very feminine in this dress. She even had been able to force her stubborn hair into nice, gentle waves fitting for this decade – after a lot of struggling and curses. The emerald green colour of her dress looked surprisingly good on her, making her regret to always have stuck to Gryffindor red in her own times.
A short glance at her magical clock told her that it was time to meet the enemy. Hermione took a deep breath, grabbed her small handbag, and went through the long hallway to the Slytherin common room. She knew that at this time, many students would be present, so she concentrated on putting on a cool, condescending mask that would allow her to meet them without blushing. It did not matter what anyone else thought about her look, the only important thing was that she impressed Riddle and showed him that she could look good at his side.
For a moment she hesitated, staring at the huge, heavy wooden door in front of her, and had to struggle to find her courage to enter the common room. As soon as she walked through this door, she had to be Hermione Dumbledore, the Slytherin student, without showing any signs of insecurity or unease. Confused the noticed that she hoped Riddle would already be there. It was a strange, paradoxical feeling that she preferred to be with him rather than being alone. She took another deep breath, steeled her back, and opened the door.
The common room was full of students indeed, but to Hermione’s relief she spotted Riddle standing near the exit together with Abraxas, obviously waiting for her. Ignoring the begrudging looks from the female students, she held her head high and strutted towards the two young men. Abraxas had noticed her immediately, but instead of smiling at her, a strange insecurity had washed over his face before he pointed Tom towards her and turning away. Hermione had noticed over the past days that Abraxas obviously held something back, at times being even rude to her, and this behaviour just now added insult to injury. Something was definitely off. She suspected that Riddle had said something to his friend. Trying to not let her confusion show, she stepped next to the two men.
“Miss Dumbledore! You look truly beautiful tonight! I am a lucky man to have a woman like you deign to accompany me to this little gathering,” Riddle greeted her. A derisive smile on his lips, he took her hand and bowed down just a little.
Impatiently, Hermione retorted: “I am glad you see it that way.”
At last, Abraxas turned around, too: “Hermione,” he managed to say, but it still could barely count as a polite greeting.
Unwilling to draw attention to his curious behaviour, she replied just as short: “Abraxas.”
Still smiling tauntingly, Riddle offered his arm to her: “Let’s make our way to Professor Slughorn, shall we? I always am a bit early to these gatherings, so that I can converse with him privately before the other students arrive and demand all his attention.”
“That suits me,” Hermione agreed, taking his arm.
Abraxas on the other hand shook his head: “You can go ahead, I’ll wait for the rest.”
“Do as you please,” Riddle replied.
Before Hermione could protest or say anything, he already led her out of the common room. Even though she disliked being alone with him, Hermione tonight was glad to be able to escape the obvious staring of her fellow Slytherin students. She could feel the jealous, calculating gazes even after leaving. Did it really mean so much that Riddle asked her to be his companion?
They were just out of earshot, when Riddle coolly asked: “I hope you don’t plan on embarrassing me tonight?”
Surprised Hermione raised one eyebrow: “Why should I?”
“You’ve been remarkably unremarkable and restrained this week. It doesn’t fit to what I observed of you so far. The only logical explanation is that you’re planning something.”
Hermione wrinkled her nose: “Don’t judge other’s by your own standards, Riddle. If you insist on knowing – I am just tired of getting threatened all the time. I didn’t think it possible that my behaviour would provoke you this much. Where I’m from, the things I do are unremarkable. I learned my lesson. I plan on being more careful from now on.”
Riddle seemed unimpressed: “You don’t actually think that I’ll believe your words just like that? Believe that you suddenly like me?”
Annoyed, Hermione retorted: “I never said that. So far, you gave me no reason to like me. I just am not interested in some trivial fight with another student. It only distracts me and honestly, I don’t have time for that.”
She noticed how Riddle flinched when she called their fights trivial and a distraction. Good. It was only to her advantage if he thought she found their animosity unremarkable. With only a ghost of a smile on her lips, Hermione walked next to him. Riddle fell quiet, too, but it did not take long before he started speaking again: “What you said is wrong. I was friendly and polite, I offered my help and I tried to converse with you. You were the one to block anything from the start.”
“You never meant your friendliness. I distrust people that so easily can mask their true feelings and still seem gallant.”
She could feel that Riddle went rigid, but even though his next words were not friendly, he still managed to sound conversational and at ease: “You should be grateful that I’m gallant. Especially you. You know what I’m capable of and I didn’t get the impression that you liked it. Am I mistaken? Do you actually enjoy pain?”
A shiver ran down Hermione’s spine as she remembered how scared she had been facing his cruel, demeaning side: “Absolutely not.”
“Too bad,” he murmured, showing an ugly sneer.
To her relief, they already reached Slughorn’s rooms by now. Riddle let go of her to knock on the door.
“Ah, Tom!” They were greeted with enthusiasm the second the door was opened: “And what do I see? Miss Dumbledore! Is this real? Tom, you finally realised the advantages of the fairer sex and asked a lady out? Extraordinary, I must say. It is wonderful to see you, Miss Dumbledore, wonderful indeed.”
With a smile Hermione shook her professor’s hand while Riddle replied: “It’s all you, professor. If you recognize the talent of Miss Dumbledore, who am I to deny her? I certainly treasure a sharp mind at my side.”
It was obvious to Hermione that Slughorn enjoyed the compliment. Already during his younger years, this professor seemed to like it when people recognised his talent for social interaction. At the same time she noticed the ease with which Riddle was able to pay these little compliments, how natural they sounded coming from him. If he was not such a monster, she would have actually respected him for it.
Deciding to also play this little game, Hermione cried: “Mr Riddle! You’re not supposed to flatter me, I’m in danger of becoming proud.”
“Ah, you young ones,” Slughorn chuckled: “It’s nice to see that you get along so well. Especially,” He added with a wink, “Especially if we think about how much Tom detested female company until recently. You must know, Miss Dumbledore, our dearest Tom insisted on turning up alone to all of my little rounds so far. And that is saying something, for he has been a regular guest for three years now.”
“Perhaps I just waited for the right woman to appear?” Tom offered with a casual smile.
“Perhaps he never gave a girl the chance to prove her intellect?” Hermione said with an equally casual smile.
“Oh, dearest,” Slughorn laughed while shaking his head. Then he ushered them to a small couch at the end of the room before continuing: “I fear I have to side with Tom on this one, even though it breaks my heart to disagree with a charming lady like yourself. I have taught many students over the course of my life and before you, there has never been a single girl that was interested in my field.”
Hermione forced her brightest smile: “But don’t you think, professor, that it is a bit unfair to judge the intelligence of a girl solely based on their interest in your subject, regardless of how important Potions might be?”
Slughorn’s eyes widened in surprise: “What do we have here? Not only fair and intelligent, but also witty! Are you sure you can handle this woman, Tom? Miss Dumbledore seems to be your equal in every aspect.”
An amused laughter rang through the room, but Hermione felt that once again, Tom tensed up next to her. He obviously did not like how excited Slughorn was about her, and as she did not want to fuel his anger any further, she quickly replied: “You’re flattering me, professor. You should not pay so many compliments to a student just to pay compliments. If you were honest, you would never compare me to Mr Riddle. We both know that he’s far superior to us all.”
Before Slughorn could answer, Tom interfered: “That is the first compliment I ever heard from you!”
His face was still masked by that fake smile, so Hermione could not be sure what he actually thought. He had to be confused, though, and probably way trying to decipher whether her words were her true opinion or whether she still wanted to provoke him.
“You know me so well after such a short amount of time, Miss Dumbledore?” Slughorn now chuckled, oblivious to any tension in the room, “You are right, though, I might have done Tom wrong in my effort to pay compliments. We’re all nothing compared to him.”
Before they were able to continue the conversation, a knock on the door alerted Slughorn: “Here come the other guests. I fear we have to cut this highly amusing conversation short for now, but once we’re all settled at the table, I’m sure we can continue this topic. For now, please excuse me, I have to attend the other students.”
Tom and Hermione left the couch, too, while Slughorn opened the door for the other students.
“What are you playing at?” Tom hissed as they watched their professor greet the other guests.
“Whatever do you mean?” Hermione replied calmly: “I just felt you didn’t like Slughorn praising me, so I pressured him into admitting the truth.”
“The truth?”
Impatiently, Hermione turned fully to Tom: “Of course! Do you actually think Slughorn sees me on equal footing with you? Not only does he know me for a mere few days, you’re his favourite student who proved time and again that he can deliver perfect marks. Obviously his words were only meant as compliment. Those were the words of a charming, polite gentleman who wants to flatter a lady. You of all people should recognize that.”
“Fine.”
Silently he offered her his arm again, which she accepted, to lead her to their assigned spots at the big, round table. She waited for him to move her chair, then she sat down as elegantly as she could. She still had to prove herself as a lady in this round.
“Fact of the matter is, until now you never were concerned with appeasing me, on the contrary. Why the sudden change?” Tom whispered, continuing their conversation while everyone else was still in the middle of small talk and finding their spots.
Hermione answered with a question: “Is it so hard to believe that I simply have better things to do than quarrel with you all the time? Do you really think I enjoy our fights?”
For a long moment, Tom assessed her with a cool and calculating look, but then at last a smile appeared on his lips, a smile that Hermione could only describe as condescending: “So you came to your sense? You finally admit that you can’t win against me?”
Even though she wanted to make up with Tom, Hermione still didn’t want to appear completely submissive: “Think whatever you want. I am not a bootlicker. I just prefer to not be at war.”
Riddle’s eyebrows shot up: “Bootlicker? Really, Miss Dumbledore, you always surprise me with your choice of words. Is that the language you use in America?”
Blushing, Hermione looked down. She had always been the one to care for appropriate language, but in this time, she stumbled over her own words.
Slowly she replied: “No, I guess that’s the bad influence here.”
Before Tom could answer with a snarky remark of his own, the other guests joined them at the table, effectively shutting down their private conversation. To Hermione’s dismay, Slughorn sat down next to her, while Abraxas was placed next to Tom. The group of students was bigger than she remembered from her own time, but different from back then, these people seemed to actually enjoy being here. Then again, she mused, people in this time were used to polite small talk and thus everyone was able to contribute to the conversation, while during her own time, most students were obviously overwhelmed by the awkwardness of the situation
Trying to avoid any attention, Hermione listened to the conversations taking place without offering too much herself. She wanted to quietly observe how the rest of the students interacted with Riddle and how he carried himself in a setting other that classes. Most importantly though, she wanted to avoid making any mistakes.
The evening turned out to be boring, though, nothing of any importance was said or done by anyone, so Hermione got bored quickly. She was happy and relieved, when Slughorn stood up, signalling the end of this stale dinner table.
One idea though had formed in her head, and, wanting to act on it as soon as possible, Hermione decided to stay behind so she could talk to Slughorn for a moment. She did not know enough about correct etiquette in this time, but was sure that he would be helpful in that regard.
“Ready to go?” Tom asked, smiling politely, but Hermione shook her head: “No, thank you. I’d like to talk to Professor Slughorn for a moment longer. Privately. You can go ahead, I’ll find my way back.”
Suspicion obvious in his eyes, Tom looked her up and down, but as he had stayed behind on multiple occasions himself, he at last just shrugged and said his goodbye.
Surprised to find her still standing in his room after he closed the door behind Riddle, Slughorn turned to Hermione: “Miss Dumbledore, you’re still here? How can I help you?”
She forced the warmest smile on her lips: “I’m so grateful that you’re giving me this opportunity, sir. You see, Mr Riddle really is invested in integrating me into the student body of Slytherin, but I feel I need to do something myself, too, to prove my worth as Slytherin.”
Slowly, Hermione walked around the big table until she reached Slughorn. With pretend shyness, she looked up to him: “Do you think, professor, it would be too strange for me to open a salon here? Back in America, we used to give salons all the time, a nice little gathering organised by a respectable lady for a select few people. A gathering just like yours, but of course much smaller. What do you think about that, professor? Is it too forward for me to do such a thing?”
Slughorn’s before confused eyes lightened up: “But of course not, Miss Dumbledore. What a brilliant idea. The glamorous times of salons might be over, but I personally wish they’d come back. Do what you suggested, start a salon of your own. I am sure, if you invite Tom, many others will follow and it will be a success. And I suspect, if I may speak freely,” Slughorn said with a conspiratorial wink, “I suspect Tom will happily join you. I appears quite fond of you.”
Hermione forced a coquette chuckle after those words, then demurely replying: “Professor, you should not tease me in such a way.”
“I hope you enjoyed your first evening here?” Slughorn changed the topic, suddenly blushing.
“Quite so, sir. I was too shy to add much to the conversation, but it really was interesting. You are a talented host,” Hermione praised him. Even though she did not actually like the professor, she still could see that he actually was an outstanding host at his parties.
Without looking at her, Slughorn replied: “You flatter me too much, dearest. Just look at the time. No young woman should be alone in the quarters of a man at this hour. Off to bed with you.”
Hermione nodded, shook his hand to say goodbye and again thanked him for the invitation and his support. When Slughorn opened the door, they noticed that Riddle waited outside.
“Ah, Tom,” Slughorn cried surprised and in an obvious attempt to appear relaxed and casual: “You waited for Miss Dumbledore, how chivalrous of you. Please make sure you retire to your common room safely.”
“You have my word on that,” Tom answered, but Slughorn already had closed the door again. Questioningly, he turned to Hermione.
“Don’t ask me,” She said defensively, raising both hands: “We just had a nice talk and suddenly he blushes and ushers me out.”
As curious as he seemed, Tom did not ask further questions, instead turning around and briskly walking back to the Slytherin quarters. For the first time since her arrival, Hermione did not feel threatened in his presence. He seemed lost in though and she enjoyed the silence. She was not yet ready to actually be friendly towards him, regardless how important it might prove to her future.