Never Say Never (Tomione AU)

- "No More." -

Hermione grimaces, annoyance clear in her pasty features. Potions. Whilst Slughorn might be a valuable ally and a good way of making connections, he's quite an incompetent potions teacher. At least to her. Some other pupils still struggle with potions Hermione could do in second year.

The professor leads them inside the classroom, and Hermione takes her usual spot. It's right at the back of the classroom, hidden by the shadows that dance along the cold stone walls. Hermione grins. It's also right next to the potions cupboard, where all ingredients are kept. Occasionally, when she needs it, her hand only has to reach out...

Neatly, she arranges her own ingredients and her cauldron, ready for the lesson. She watches Professor Slughorn clap his hands excitedly. "Students!" he calls, his unusually cheerful voice booming around the classroom. "Today, we will be brewing the Draught of Living Death. Now, can anyone tell me about it?" Keenly, his gaze musters the students.

Hermione's hand shoots up almost immediately, and a millisecond later, Tom's does too. Slughorn rolls his eyes at their eagerness, and searches the classroom for any other hands. "Anyone except Mr Riddle and Miss Granger?" He asks, his voice rising in pitch at the end, sounding hopeful.

No one moves. Slughorn sighs, and nods at Hermione. "Go on then, Miss Granger."

Hermione stands up, and recites her knowledge in an expressionless, almost robotic way. "The Draught of Living Death brings upon its drinker a very powerful sleep that can last indefinitely. It is an almost deathlike slumber, hence the name. It is made by adding the powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood. An antidote and a way to break the slumber it induces is the Wiggenweld potion."

A bright smile lights up Professor Slughorn's face. It is such a strange contrast, the dark dreary dungeons and the cheery chortles and laughs that so frequently escape Slughorn's lips.

"Correct as always. Mr Riddle, do you have anything to add?" Slughorn gestures to Riddle, who shakes his head, his sea green eyes inspecting Hermione. Strange, she thinks. Normally, Riddle uses every opportunity to harass or humiliate or simply best her. Tom, although it is hard to admit, is better at potions than her. Only by a miniscule amount, but surely he knew something else?

Professor Slughorn looks at the class, waving his hand to the black chalkboard hanging from the wall. The instructions are written on it in Slughorn's flamboyant scrawl. "Now, I want you to work in pairs for this."

A few students smile, already throwing pleading glances at friends they want to work with. Slughorn must have seen, as he shakes his head. "I chose the pairs." He says, and a simultaneous groan escapes the class.

He pairs up the pupils one by one, and when he reaches Hermione's name, he grins widely. "Miss Granger, you can work with Mr Riddle. You two are my smartest students, and I want the work you produce together to be exceptional."

Hermione's brown eyes widen comically as his proclamation. Silently, she curses to herself. Tom Riddle. As if potions wasn't already bad enough. What did teachers always pair up the two of them? If there was one thing that was clear, it was that she had absolutely rotten luck. Forcing a smile that flashes her pearly white teeth, she moves her stuff to Riddle's desk with a short flick of her wand. It floats through the air elegantly, before settling onto the wood gently.

Following her things, Hermione takes a seat next to Tom Riddle. Instead of the expected snide remark, he murmurs a quick greeting, tilting his head at slight angle. "Granger."

Hermione nods at him curtly, quite civilly for their usual standards. "Riddle." She replies in the same icy tone, and abyss of frost, shifting her chair slightly further away from him. Tom raises an eyebrow. "Look Granger, I know you don't like me, but I don't bite." He drawls, and Hermione glares at him.