"I'm concerned." He spoke, eyes flicking to the other end of the bridge.

"About?" Hermione asked, a nervous utter to her voice. She lifted her arms to wrap gently around his neck.

"Grindelwald."

She allowed her fingers to fiddle with the collar of his suit coat, before drawing in a breathe and looking instead to the ravine lit by stars and covered in dangerous shadows.  "You're nervous?"

"Don't tempt me Granger." He spoke with a quip of teasing demeanor. 

"It will be alright-" she hesitated, considering if she should inform him.  "Dumbledore.  He will defeat him." 

"Can you be sure of that?" Tom asked. "You've already changed the future by being here." 

"I'm sure I'm insignificant in terms of the Grindelwald and Dumbledore rivalry.  It's personal." 

"Personal?" He quipped, she could tell he was intrigued. She had said too much. She looked to his swirling eyes. Tom Riddle had a knack for curiosity, and most often it was in areas of knowledge he ought not to know.

"Tom" Hermione cooed softly, scorning him with her eye roll. She let her palms brush his chest before dropping them. 

They both grew silent, him observing her as she moved to stand against the side of the bridge.  "I wish you wouldn't spend hours in front of that mirror."

"What do you think I see?" He questioned, a slight smirk of pain from her presumptions appearing.

Hermione looked down bashfully. Could she possibly admit she still thought of him seeking power, any power.  It was in his nature, as best as she tried to see him as otherwise. 

When she looked up he was standing close to her, his eyes hungry. She faltered, yes, faltered when his lip caught between his teeth.

She breathed out, exhaling a gasp before speaking. "I have no idea what you-"

He reached out, fingers brushing her neck. They were cold, and she tried her best not to flinch. Slowly, they traced over her collar bone, over her bare shoulder, then down the length of her sleeve, every fiber of her skin electrified where he touched.  Lightly, his fingers drew circles against her palm, pleading to interlace with her own.  Once his hand grasped hers, time was halted. It was cold. Everything was cold, heightened, yet stable.

In an instant, they were flying in a swirl of black, and the night whipped at her face, almost as plummeting on the carts of Gringotts bank.  They landed, herself underneath Tom, his forearms on either side of her. "Tom what are you?-"

He stood up, still holding her hand, pulled her to stand.  "What do you think I see in the mirror?" He asked again, almost demanding an answer.  Though Hermione grew suspicions she was about to find out.

She fluttered her eyelashes, looking up into his gaze. "I-" she began, parting her lips. 

"Turn around."

Hermione was shocked, but nonetheless obliged. She let her eyes cast on the lake in front of her, letting out a nervous breathe. She trusted him.  One hand placed gently on her waist as he stepped forward, his voice softly against her ear. "Hermione." He spoke.

"Whatever happened to Granger?" She retorted teasingly.  She could sense his smirk, as his body let out a slight shake of laughter.

"Alright." He moved his hand to the top of her back. "Granger." He whispered.  She inhaled as his fingers found the zipper of her dress. Slowly, he pulled down the mechanism until his knuckles brushed the skin at the small of her back.    She slipped out of the sleeves, and discarded the copious amounts of black material onto the ground. She turned around, his eyes roaming over every inch of her skin.

"Shall we swim?" She asked, still nervous under his gaze that could see through her.

"Do you know what I see?" He asked first, beginning to unclasp the buttons of his dress shirt.

"I can imagine." She answered, letting her hair fall around her shoulders.

"Want to do more than imagine?" He inquired.

Hermione smiled. "We shouldn't disappoint ones imagination, now should we Riddle?"

He reached forward his hand pressing against her stomach, but she pulled backwards, stepping slowly into the water until he could only see her shoulders. She waited there, eyes beckoning him to join her. She appeared a character, him about to fall into the waters of a lucid dream.
———————
Hermione woke, surprised to find herself naked and in sheets of green.

"Good morning." He spoke, and she turned to find Riddle laying next to her. "How are you?" He asked. 

She answered the first thing to come to mind "sore." 

He chuckled slightly, before dressing. 

"Where you going?" 

"The library."  He answered. 

"Riddle you are not!" She spoke with anger. 

He tilted his head. "Why not?" 

"Because I'm lying here in your bed naked, if you so much as-"

"You can come."  He offered.

"I forgot you're not much the sentimental." She stated in a huff.

"Granger, what is more considerate than promising a day in the library."

He was serious. She tried to search for whatever new curiosity he had attained that propelled him to read books at such a time. She would read. But him. Riddle read for purpose.

"Does this have to do with Grindelwald?"  She pressed. 

"Perhaps." He sighed, regal in protecting his emotions for some reason. 

Hermione gathered the sheets around her, moving to stand in front of him.  "You get one hour of research."  She pecked him on the lips, seemingly regaining his attention to herself. "But then you must read Romeo and Juliet." 

"No." He answered. 

"And why not?" She asked. 

"I've already read it. It's boring."  He mumbled dryly. 

She arched an eyebrow. "Suit yourself. However, do remember that love can be considered even more powerful than magic.  Do you suppose Gellert Grindelwald ever loved anyone?"

He lifted his head, thoughts beginning to swirl at the mention of Grindelwald.  Curious she was, to mention such a thing.  "Granger, what do you mean by-".

Her clothes were on with a flick of her wand and she was already gone before she could provide an answer. 

The pair read in the library for three hours.  Hermione had not lamented him for researching, but could tell he was growing frustrated every time he slammed a book shut. 

"You know about Grindelwald don't you?" He asked spontaneously. 

Hermione looked up from the book she had nearly gotten half way through about history of houselves. "Before I answer that, what are your opinion on houselves?"  She asked, almost scared for what his reply would be. 

"Granger." He breathed in irritation. "What is it with your need to fill my head with thoughts about Muggle plays and debates over elves?" 

"I find elves important." She stated.

"Who does Grindelwald love?"

Hermione smirked. "How should I know?"

"Granger."

"Riddle."

"Granger." He retorted again. Though his vision started to blur. He saw her concerned expression, her smirk fall. His head felt warm, dizzy.

"Tom!" She yelled, now beside him.

--------------

He woke in the hospital wing, Hermione instantly attacking his lips, palms on his cheeks. "Are you alright?" She pressed her hand to his forehead, like a mother doting on a child. Her voice was distressed.

"I'm fine."

She bit her cheek, eyes suspicious. "Did you see anything?"

He let out an aggrieved sigh. "No, do not worry. I did not get any glimpse of the future. Content are we?"

"Tom" She huffed. "That is not fair."

"Then why do you refuse to tell me anything. Do you not trust me?" His dark eyes locked onto her's, demanding an answer.

"Look." She took his hand in hers, grasping it for her own sake. "I trust you more than anyone or anything."

"But-"

"Well-" She started. "I don't think it is your job to defeat him."

"You think that is my prerogative-" He stopped, realizing the rise of anger in his voice. She raised one eyebrow. "Alright." He agreed.

"Judging by the way you interrogated me when I first came here, your curiosity will not end will it." She supplied.

"Nothing holds my attention more than you." he answered. "Will you tell me?" He asked, now tracing circles on her hand. His voice had turned seductive once more.

"Tell you what?"

"Everything. Everything about you."

Hermione shifted, glancing down to their hands. "You are changing the subject."

"Perhaps." He spoke huskily, and she caught such mischief in his eyes.

"How is it-. How is it that I cannot decipher if your glares are attempts at seduction or interrogation?" She spoke aloud.

"I don't play games Granger."

"Do not lie. We both play games and you know it." She leaned closer, her gaze falling to his lips. He moved to connect them, but she pulled back. "You should rest." She attempted to hold back the amusement in her means of teasing.

"You infuriate me." He groaned.

"And you drive me up the castle wall." She whispered.

She was content in hearing a barely audible laugh escape him. "You will regret it, teasing me so."

"Goodnight." She answered nonchalantly.

His eyes stalked her across the wing, herself taking hold of the door handle. She pulled another time, her hand resting on her hip.

"Is something wrong sweetums?" He called across the empty wing.

She moved so her back leaned against the door, glaring at him with the sternest gaze. "Unlock the door." She ordered, tired, yet slightly entertained.

"Oh I'm sorry. Is the smartest witch of her age incapable of the Unlocking incantation?" He sat oh so very proud of himself.

Hermione turned to the door. "Alohomora." She whispered. The door unlocked with a click. Pride defeated, she quickly exited into the corridor. He would gloat till the next year.