#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...
The next day finds Hermione and Tom again in the library, having overcome their streak of desiring Nature's company and taking the old scene with peaceful expressions. In front of them, and ever growing, are two essays-in-progress, focusing around the history of werewolves and their social status in the 1940s. And to the extent Hermione works to achieve an "O" on this paper, she attempts to reconcile Tom's disdain for such creatures, revealing truths through stories and misconceptions through the scrutiny of his opinion.
"You're telling me that werewolves are not always aggressive?" the boy positively scoffs, looking at Hermione with a raised eyebrow that screams of his disbelief in her notions.
"Yes," Hermione responds, choosing not to react to his thoughts of her ridiculousness but focusing on the task at hand. She takes to an air of knowledge, thoroughly objective though hiddenly protective. "They can be quite docile, really."
This time, Tom really does scoff at her, his back pressed back into his chair with crossed arms. "And this werewolf was a warrior? A docile wizard was a warrior?"
"Warriors do not have to be aggressive," Hermione rebukes with a growing frown and glinting eyes, ones that look positively aggressive. "I think I'd make a great Auror, and I am not aggressive."
Again, he scoffs, seemingly finding it the best response to this pointless conversation between extremely stubborn individuals. But the fact remains, or so Tom states, "If you're not aggressive, then I'm not a killer."
"Name one instant where I was aggressive!" It's one thing to call her stubborn, a know-it-all, and temperamental, but to accuse her of Gryffindor aggression reminds Hermione of the idiocracy of Ron's rash actions. And she definitely does not want that.
"Now. You're shouting," he responds snidely, though with a growing grin. And at that moment, the librarian turns a corner and shushes Hermione, practically ignoring Tom Riddle. Hermione almost growls as the librarian moves away, choosing then to return heatedly back to her essay whose penmanship is greatly diseased by this point. Tom just laughs, ever enjoying her heated company and never once flinching under her angered gazes. Rather, he finds Hermione more attractive for the very passion that has her angry at him, defying his orders, and turning his ideas on their heads.
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A few hours later, with the werewolf essays complete and a full three-feet in length, Hermione and Tom turn towards the library windows, watching students fly about in the windy spring air. They sit next to one another, relaxed back as if they are truly alone, finding a homely comfort from all the time they've spent together. And a new game has been created, with Tom trying to find a creatures Hermione has not met in her years of intense travels and trials. After all, he must teach her something as Hermione's 'mentor.'
"Troll," he asks, the newest creatures he's thought of, questioning her connection to it.
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