Hermione's Riddle

The Other Merrythought

Hermione watched as Tom slammed the door shut. All she had done was asked if the potion was working. It must be if he lost his temper that quickly though with it being Tom Riddle it was hard to tell. He was always temperamental.

Maybe she had pushed things a little too far by persuading Dippet into allowing them to have their own private dorm. If so, then she was in for one hell of a year. She just hoped that Tom wouldn't try to kill her, or her him. She still, unfortunately, needed him to be alive so as to not mess with the future too bad.

Hermione shook Tom from her thoughts and decided to head to bed. Tomorrow started their first day of classes and their first petrol.

. . . .

"Mind if I sit beside you?" asked Fleamont. Hermione was grateful to see the black-haired boy. His resemblance to Harry no longer upset her as it did when she had first met him.

"Go ahead," said Hermione with a genuine smile. Now that all of her friends were gone, or in Abraxas' case, had forgotten her, Hermione was desperate to have at least one friend she could talk to. Tom didn't count because of his irritable mood swings and the fact that he seemed to be avoiding her again. Plus, they never really talked that much anyways. They were perfectly comfortable in each other's presence while reading, though she didn't see much of that happening this year.

"How was your break?"

"It was pretty good. Tom and I at least didn't kill each other." She took a bite out of her apple.

Fleamont laughed. This action puzzled Hermione since it didn't seem to require that much laughter, maybe only a light chuckle or snort. "No, you definitely didn't kill each other. I'm guessing the pompous Slytherin didn't tell you that he sent me an owl?"

"No." Hermione shook her head for emphasis. She honestly couldn't envision Tom sending a letter to Fleamont, least of all acknowledging him.

Fleamont gave her a wicked grin. "He told me to make sure you keep up practicing your broom skills."

Hermione groaned. For some reason, she could easily picture Tom pulling a stunt like that. She couldn't figure out why he was so adamant on her learning about quidditch and increasing her skills on a broom.

"I wish I could say that I can't believe that he would do something like that but. . ." Hermione let out a dramatic sigh that held slight irritation. "Don't listen to him."

"I don't, I think I might want to see you on a broom now." Fleamont sent her a playful wink. Hermione couldn't help but to laugh at his joking mannerism. She had a feeling that life wouldn't be quite as lonely with him around. Who would have guessed that she would have befriended Harry's paternal grandfather?

Gooseflesh rose on her skin and a cold shiver ran down her spine. The little hairs on the back of her neck alerted that she was being watched.

Hermione looked up and her eyes immediately fell to the Slytherin table. An immaculately dressed Tom with a bite of oatmeal poised at his mouth was glaring at her. No, not at her. At her and Fleamont. The cold look in his eyes made her gulp in trepidation. She just had to ask Dippet to make her dorm mates with that monster?

"Is everything all right?" asked Fleamont as he took in her ghostly expression.

"Ye-yeah." Hermione stood up from her seat. "I think I'll head to class now."