The Time of a Granger (Tomione)

17|The Silver He Found

"Where are you going?"

Hermione stopped, turning to look back at him. "Bed. It's nearly three in the morning."

His eyes drew slowly to hers, staring maliciously and biting his lip.

"Don't give me that look." She stated, rolling her eyes.

"I'm just looking at you." He stated, the corners of his lips pulling upward into an arrogant smirk that was signature of Riddle.

"Goodnight." She stated rather irrefutably. She leaned to give him a kiss on a cheek, which he accepted, before grabbing her firmly around the waist.

"Don't go." He spoke between chaste kisses.

"We've finished our lessons for the day, what other reason is there to stay?" She grinned as his eyes flashed genuine concern for her reply.

"Hermione." He drew in a hungry voice. "It is not time to be witty."

"I play no game of wit, I see no other reason to stay." She pulled back as he attempted to connect their lips.

"No other reason?" He dropped his grasp from her, held a rigid posture, and then walked to the opposite side of the room. He turned, leaned upon the desk at the side of the chess board, and stared sternly from afar. "Goodnight then, Granger."

Hermione studied his figure. There was a decision of adhering to stubbornness, or subjecting herself to a night filled of kisses and pleasure. His face looked like chiseled marble, yet smooth as a stone beneath a ever constant river. His intimidating haughty nature was only a facade.

She pivoted, turning her back to him, and slowly made to cross the room toward the exit.  She held the power in every step, and herself was amused imagining whatever reaction she was causing in Riddle.  "Goodnight." She called, looking over her shoulder to realize his gaze had fallen to her figure.

She nearly reached the passage that would connect to the trapdoor, but her path was blocked. "Oh-" she sung in a coy whisper, challenging his gaze. "-Is there something you forgot to tell me?"

She was not expectant of his reply. She had imagined he would reply something concerning the sexual tension that was so blatantly set up between the pair. It lingered, however his smirk and arrogance disappeared completely. "Hermione—"

She noticed the change in his voice, the inflection from him swallowing away whatever nerves he carried. She reached out holding a palm to his cheek. "What, What is it?"

He thwarted his gaze from her searching eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair now, pulling his head so his nose was barely to her own. With the most gentle kiss, he seemed to relax, and she waited.

"Granger-" He exhaled, and she was pleased his grasp secured itself around her waist. He was letting her in. "Our, feelings. This relationship between yourself and I. Was it ever an act?"

Hermione froze. She hadn't the slightest intuition where this concern was growing from. "An Act."

"I in part believe you only fell in—became involved with me to change the future."

"Tom-"

"No, Granger. You loathed me. You loathed me with every fiber of your being, and sometimes I realize this, this was just a way to save me."

"Hey." She shifted closer to him, now stroking a space on his neck to soothe him. "I love you." She pressed her lips to his cheek. "Not Voldemort, not the history book definition of what I imagined as you, but you."

There was something brimming in his eyes. She could only hope her choice of words were effective. A tear seemed to stream down his face, causing a retching torque within her stomach. She let out a small laugh. She was witnessing something she never thought possible; Tom Riddle crying.

"As much as I enjoy your dominant demeanor and witty flirtations, I love seeing this more."

"You love what?" He tested, black eyes sparkling with a tired curiosity.

"The real you. Never shut me out."

"This is all to sappy, Granger." He spoke, regaining his composure.

"Well." She broke their contact. Her eyes flitted to his lips. "Then change the subject."

He smirked. "I propose a duel Granger."

"Of what sorts?" She was then spun so instead her back was against the wall. She was not surprised as he began to trace kisses along her neck.

The following week was something different than Hermione could have ever imagined. Somehow Riddle had become more vulnerable, and displayed his affection quite frequently. Yet he also become more aggressive as well. During the day, she was surprised to find her hand interlaced in his own. In the evening they would spend quite the passionate time together.

Until one night he was nowhere to be found.

"Have you seen Tom?" Hermione asked as casually as possible.

Draco looked up. "Why, is he late for a shag?"

Hermione threw him a dangerous look, but then bit back the fact Malfoy had been relatively accurate in his teasing. "Have you talked to him?"

"No. But I saw him with my dearest grandfather."

"Where?"

Hermione moved quickly through the corridor, running as fast as her legs could manage. She reached the lake as fast as possible. On one of the banks she noticed the two figures.

"You're just in time." Riddle said thickly and with lack emotion as he noticed her approach the pair, he pulled her tightly to his side.

"In time for what?" She panted, her breathe short.

It was odd, the lot of them in the middle of the night, hiding among the shadows of the black lake.

"I found this!" Abraxas expressed with the upmost excitement.

Hermione caught the shimmer of something. She followed his pale skin until her eyes trained to the dangling object. Her stomach lurched. When she recognized the instrument her fingers dug into Riddle's arm like a vice.

"What is it?" She asked in a flummoxed tone. Her eyes flitted across the silver.

"A Time Turner."