Hermione's Riddle

Of Songs and Spells

"Ugh." Hermione slammed her book shut, receiving her an angry look from madam Pince, the mother of madam Pince from her time.

"Is everything alright?" asked Lucretia.

"Yes," lied Hermione. "Just feeling tired."

"More like distracted. And I bet I know what-or should I say who is causing it," chuckled Ignatius.

"Ooh, I bet I know too!" Lucretia silently clapped her hands together while keeping her voice a quiet whisper. "Everyone is talking about it."

"Talking about what?"

"Your duel with Riddle," said Ignatius and Lucretia at the same time.

Hermione couldn't stop the groan that escaped her lips. They were absolutely correct. She was in the library supposed to be studying but her mind kept replaying her battle with Riddle. Well, mainly just the part where she had cursed Riddle to sing. She was hoping to embarrass him but failed miserably. She wound up showing everyone yet another hidden talent that the Slytherin possessed.

Though, if she were honest with herself, she wasn't upset that her plan had backfired. She had been pleasantly surprised to hear his smooth, deep, on-pitch voice and it drove her crazy. He was Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, the man who wanted to rule the wizarding world while eliminating muggles and muggle-borns from the face of the earth. In her mind she knew that but her stupid body kept going against her mind. She wanted to hear him sing again. Hell, she wanted him to sing for her. Yep, she was screwed.

"All the girls are talking about his singing."

"Not just the girls," chuckled Ignatius.

"Can we just stop talking about it," said Hermione in barely contained frustration.

Lucretia peered at something behind Hermione's shoulder. "Admit it, you loved hearing him sing," said Ignatius, distracting Hermione from peering over her shoulder to see what had caught Lucretia's attention.

Hermione scrunched her eyebrows together in a displeased look. "Fine. I'll admit it if you shut up."

"No, no," tsked Ignatius. "A full confession."

"Fine," growled Hermione. "I was pleasantly surprised to hear Riddle sing and I wouldn't mind hearing it again. Are you happy now?"

"Pleased, actually."

Hermione groaned outwardly and inwardly. Her so-called friends had set her up. "Ignore what you just heard," growled Hermione.

"Never." Riddle sat down in the unoccupied seat beside her. "I will forever remember your confession."

Ignatius stretched his arms in an obviously fake yawn. "It's getting late. Come, Lucretia, time for sleep."

"Yes." Lucretia gathered her belongings and left with a wink.

"It seems as if your friends are playing matchmaker," chuckled Riddle.

Hermione turned toward Riddle with a slam of her fist on the table. "What is your game Riddle? Why are you acting so different? If it's a ploy to get me to join your followers then just stop."

Riddle cocked his head to the side as he considered her words. He let out a sigh of finality. "Is it so bad that I want you on my side?"

"Yes!"

Riddle shook his head. "What if I tell you the real reason is that you make me feel emotions," his voice caught in his throat. "I don't know what they are but I'm curious. That's the truth."

Hermione stared at him with her mouth agape. "So unlady-like," chuckled Riddle.

He looked as if he were going to say more so Hermione held up her hand to stop him. She gathered up her belongings and fled the library. Riddle's chuckle followed her out.

Hermione fled blindly down the hallways. He couldn't be serious, could he? It sure felt like the truth.

She came to a stop. Looking around, she found herself outside of the Transfiguration's classroom. Deciding to tell someone, she knocked on the door. "Come in," came Professor Dumbledore's voice.

Hermione entered. Professor Dumbledore sat at his desk with a stack of parchment in front of him. Much to her horror, he wasn't alone. Newt Scamander was standing beside Dumbledore's desk. Hermione came to a stop and fidgeted back-and-forth on the balls of her feet.

"I'll-I'll just ta-take my leave." Newt Scamander brushed past her. Before he left, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"What brings you by, Miss Norris?" asked Dumbledore once Scamander was gone.

Hermione used Muffliato on the room before taking a seat in front of the professor. "I don't know what to do," cried Hermione helplessly.

"Why don't you tell me what ails you." And Hermione did just that. She told him about the duel between her and Riddle then about the awkward and confusing confrontation in the library that occurred just a few moments ago.

"I see," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "My dear, shall I give you some advice?" Hermione nodded her head for him to continue. "Maybe the reason you were sent back was to befriend Mr. Riddle. You were given a unique opportunity to be placed in a position to grow close to and maybe even change Riddle."

"So, you're saying that I should take his confession seriously and try to be friends with him," concluded Hermione.