#180 in Fanfiction || #1 in Hermione ||
In the language of literature, there exists a seemingly-concrete, antonymous relationship between good and evil, light and dark, hero and monster. And yet, we often disregard the transition from one to anothe...
As cute as Clary and Abraxas are with his arms around her shoulder and her giggles resounding around the quartet, Hermione is coming to hate their coupling. For selfish reasons, of course, she despises their solitude ahead of Tom and herself, the Dark Lord walking by her side as they move from the Quidditch pitch. It is awkward to say the least, with a foot between Tom and herself, and the duo in front of them nearly cuddling and walking. Hermione wishes to know how they manage this feat.
"You know," Tom Riddle addresses Hermione, looking down to see the irritated female beside him, "most people would think that we are on a double date."
Hermione Granger actually freezes at this, shocked to say the least as she gaze over at a smirking Tom. In a rush of heat, the girl's cheeks blush brightly, prompting Tom's grin to widen with humour, not malicious intentions. She ignores him and the nerves, moving onward from their halted position, head down, and attempting to catch up to Abraxas and Clary if only to diffuse this tension. Tom chuckles, but follows behind her casually, enjoying her awkwardness greatly.
"Hey! You!" a voice sounds from downhill, loud enough to permeate the ears of the quartet who then turn to a running Gryffindor, the one-and-only Lyall Lupin. The boy is quick in his pursuit of the four, coming to stand in front of Hermione and Tom with only a slightly elevated breathing pattern. And though the boy stands in front of the two, he looks solely at Hermione, her hair being frizzy as ever though her cheeks are painted a radiant pink.
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Placing on her Slytherin facade, Hermione looks to Lupin with humour in her eyes. "Are you speaking to me, Gryffindor?" With her left eyebrow raised at the boy and her chin held confidently, Tom cannot help grinning at the sure strength of Hermione Granger, especially in confronting Gryffindors.
"It's Lyall. And yeah, I am," Lyall says, his eyes twitching over to a smug-looking Tom Riddle, only drawing more hate for the boy into the Gryffindor's stomach.
"I have a name, you know," the time-traveller offers with a hint of charm. "It's Hermione."
Only slightly shocking Hermione, the boy grabs her hand--which rests gently at her side--before pressing a kiss to her knuckles in what ought to be a move of flattery. His brown eyes look to hers with intention, breath ghosting her fingertips as he says, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Hermione."
"The pleasure is all mine," Hermione responds, not being completely able to hide her laughter behind a smug grin on her face. Lyall straightens up, dropping Hermione's hand as Tom then looks warily at the Gryffindor.
"Can we talk?" Lyall asks, his eyes twitching to Tom with equal wariness. "In private."
"Sure," Hermione agrees, walking back down towards the stadium with Lyall following almost obediently behind her.
