Don't Smile At Me

Chapter 5 - Meeting Cute, Again

Hermione quickly turned towards the fireplace and scooted her bean bag as far away from the counter as possible. The last thing she wanted was for Riddle to notice her. She strained her ears to hear his deep baritone at the register.

"One black coffee, please." His normally smooth voice was rather rough, as if he'd just woken up... or hadn't slept at all. What did that mean? Was he sleeping in because he already had a handle on the case, or was he working overtime to find a way to take control? Hermione wondered if his shirt would be wrinkled and worn from a long night working, or perfectly pressed and annoyingly wrinkle-free as usual. She looked down at her own day-old clothes in dismay, realizing that she hadn't changed before leaving the flat.

Oh shut up, Hermione. Who cares what you look like, you're trying to avoid him.

She wondered if she could sneak off to the bathroom until he left. If he was still waiting for his drink, then he wouldn't be facing her direction, and he wouldn't notice if-

"Granger? Is that you?"

Shit.

Hermione slowly turned around to find herself looking up into the stormy grey eyes of Tom Riddle. He did look tired, with slight bags forming beneath his eyes and his normally impeccably styled hair tousled out of place. It reminded her of Harry's messy locks after he combed his fingers carelessly through it. She thought about how neither of them were really ever able to get to know their parents, either.

Realizing she still hadn't answered, she cleared her throat and replied, "Oh hello, Riddle! I didn't see you come in!" Immediately she wanted to melt away. He smirked and sat himself down on an empty pouf next to her.

"You look tired. Preparing for your inevitable loss?"

"I could say the same of you. I didn't realize vampires needed sleep," Hermione shot back.

"Hmm, I didn't realize Bird's Nest was the newest trend in hair styles." He eyed her frizzy tangles with amusement.

"Oh haha very funny," Hermione consciously tried to pat her hair down, though it refused to behave. "Maybe they wouldn't have to nest in my hair if they had a natural habitat to live in, like a certain park."

"Give it up, Granger. The hearing is tomorrow, and we both know what will happen." He hesitated slightly, then added, "But I do commend you on your efforts."

Hermione was taken aback slightly. No double meanings, no back-handed compliment, no vitriol. He had sounded... sincere. "I- Thank you. I really do believe in what I'm fighting for."

"I know," he said quietly. An awkward silence fell as they both took to staring into the fire. She wondered what he was thinking. Was it about the Gaunts? The court case? He was much less intense than normal, and their interaction hadn't pissed her off yet, which was a first.

"Er, well. I should probably get going. I'll see you tomorrow," Hermione broke the silence. She wasn't used to this side of Riddle, and the cold outside would be a relief from the suffocatingly warm atmosphere next to him. Thoughts of the Gaunt murders kept swirling around in her mind, and he was perceptive enough to pick up on her discomfort. She tried to stand up, but struggled for a moment getting out of the large beanbag. She felt her face flush. Hermione opened her mouth to say something else, when she was interrupted by the sing-songy voice of Madame Trelawney.

"May I get everyone's attention please!" she called from the center of the café. She was standing on top of a chair. "I am afraid that the storm outside has gotten too strong to leave. But do not fear! I foresaw these circumstances and made sure to have extra stock on hand. Please do not worry, I sense this shall soon pass."