Hermione ascended the steps two at a time. She pushed open the door that led to Dippet's office. "You wanted to see me, sir?" She still couldn't bring herself to call him grandfather, even if it would help with her cover.
He looked up at her with a tear-stained face. "Your parents' bodies have finally arrived," there was a quiver in his voice. "We will hold a service for them tomorrow with it being the weekend. I couldn't find anyone from your father's side so it'll just be the two of us." The melancholic expression he wore deepened.
Hermione gave a stiff nod. "Is that all?" He nodded and she left, closing the door quietly behind her. It may have seemed rude or as if it were too much pressure for her but she had to escape.
It was almost too much for her to handle. She was used to death, especially of those she held dear, but pretending to be affected by the death of people she didn't know was strange and unsettling. If it wasn't for the fact that Dumbledore had assigned her the role of pretending to be Dippet's granddaughter, she would have chosen a different role. It wasn't as if she needed to be Dippet's granddaughter to get close to Riddle.
She walked down the staircase lost in thought. She was finished with classes for the day so she decided to head to the library to read. She could go for a good distraction.
Hermione entered the magnificent room that was the library, finding the place practically empty. She skimmed the shelves looking for any books that were different from her own time. It was better to keep herself distracted than to think about tomorrow's events.
With a couple of books that she was pretty sure were in the restricted section of the library in the future, she found a seat in the back corner by the large windows. Sunlight poured through the large windows, lightening up the enclosed area. She sat down with her back to the sunlight and immersed herself in her reading.
"You are in my seat," said a familiar voice that grated on her ears. She looked up to find Riddle sneering down at her.
She gave a pointed look to his bag that was slung over his shoulder. "It appears as if you have just arrived."
Riddle's mouth twitched. "I have but that seat is where I always sit."
She felt her anger rising. Rising with the arrogance that this young Voldemort showed and with the fact that she could not curse him. Oh, how she wanted to curse him. "There is another seat," she said instead, as she waved to the chair across from hers.
His eyes flashed blue for a second before he huffed angrily. Instead of cursing her or leaving, he gracefully sat down and crossed one leg over the other.
Hermione ignored the arrogant boy who reminded her so much of Malfoy and turned back to her reading.
To her dismay, Riddle was still there a few hours later. She stifled a yawn and forced her eyes to focus on the steadily blurring text.
. . . .
Tom placed his book face down on the table and stretched his arms and back. He looked up to find the annoying yet observant Gryffindor curled up in the chair.
He picked the book up and settled himself back into the seat. It was normal for him to be in the library for several hours throughout the day and he had a suspicious feeling that the Gryffindor could spend most of her free time there as well.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tom noticed Black and Avery approaching. "My Lord," said Black as he gave a slight bow.
Tom shot a glance in the sleeping Gryffindor's direction and found the girl in the same position, fast asleep. He then shot Black a look that made the older boy visibly shiver. "What is it!" Hissed Tom, his anger flickered, wanting to be released. He fiddled with the black and gold ring that sat upon his finger.
"We are still unable to poach Malfoy but were successful in poaching Rosier," answered Avery, his head bowed in respect though his eyes kept flickering toward Tom and the sleeping girl.
"You could have waited until the meeting tomorrow night," hissed Tom. With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the two, returning back to his studies.
A thud made him look up. One of the legs of the Gryffindor had fallen off the chair though the girl was still asleep. Candles flickered to life as the light outside began to fade into darkness. The library would be closing soon, maybe in an hour or two.
"No. . . .Harry. . ." The broken sob broke his concentration. He looked up to find the cries coming from the girl. She squirmed in the chair as if she was trying to flee from someone, or something.
Tom sneered at the girl's weakened state. It was pitiful that one would succumb to their fears when they slept.
". . No!"
Her scream caused Madame Pince to waddle over from her desk in alarm. "Wake her up," she practically seethed at Tom.
Tom glared at her but did as he was told. He slowly unwound himself from his sitting position and walked over to the girl. He placed his hands on her shoulders in disgust and shook her awake. Her eyes flew open and unfocused brown eyes looked at him. As soon as her eyes focused, she let out a long shaky breath before glaring at him.
"Let go of me," growled the girl. Tom felt something poke against his ribcage and found her wand pointed at him. Instead of being frightened or angry, he found the situation amusing.
Her brows furrowed together and a look of confusion crossed her face. "What's so funny?"
Tom smoothed out his face and promptly placed his mental and emotional mask back on, looking for all the world as if nothing was amiss. "Nothing."