She didn't really bother taking another sip from the cup of tea that was nestled firmly within her palms. She was in too much pain to do so. The first sip had burned her tongue, and now it was throbbing endlessly. Harry was seated beside her with a crooked smile on his face. They sat there in silence, and it was almost too silent for Hermione to bear.
Harry immediately noticed her uneasiness.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked her in a worried tone.
She jumped slightly. "Oh, uh, yes. Yes I am." She closed her eyes momentarily as she inwardly scolded herself. Harry gave a slight chuckle, whilst taking another sip from his cup.
"You don't like my tea very much, do you?" She looked at him too quickly that her vertebrae snapped momentarily, making her wince. Harry looked at her with innocence.
"What makes you say that?" She asked in a slightly stuttering manner.
"Well, I'm almost done with mine. And as I can see, yours is still just as full as it was two hours ago." Harry took his last sip before placing the mug onto the coaster. Hermione stared at his empty cup for a while. Harry chuckled slightly.
"I apologize. Then again, who could blame me? The tea practically paralyzed my tongue."
He raised an eyebrow. "And that gives you the right to leave the poor thing broken and shattered on the inside, sulking in such low self-esteem, knowing that he wasn't good enough for a young lady who apparently drank at the wrong time?" She was left speechless. No, not because she didn't understand a word he had just said, but because at that moment she had remembered the occurrences that happened the night before.
Harry noticed her lack of amusement, and hid the chagrin that started to show by his cheeks.
"Sorry. My attempts at wit need a little practice." He mused to her. She nodded in a monotonous manner. He smiled with as much enthusiasm he could muster, yet she remained nonplussed. She now seemed dazed, almost hypnotized by the blazing fire in front of them.
"Hey," He grasped her by the hand, causing her to look at him in a swift motion. She looked at his hand on top of hers and tried her best to get back to her thoughts, which seemed to have drifted away.
"Are you okay? You know you could tell me anything." He said in a much more serious tone. His voice was low and hushed, and she blinked once as a reply. Harry sighed to himself before letting her hand go.
"You're just tired. Come, I'll show you to your room-"
"Harry." She held onto his left knee before he could stand up fully from the couch. He looked back at her with questioning eyes.
"We can't keep avoiding the topic of last night's events." She whispered to him. Harry looked down slightly, with his hair shielding his face fully.
"I just thought it would be nicer if we discussed it at a more appropriate time." He mumbled.
"This is an appropriate time. It's better than having to keep it in the dark." She felt his heart palpitate, just by the mere look on his face. He looked fearful, almost vulnerable.
"I'm sorry you had to get involved in this, Hermione." She heard him mutter.
She detested him for apologizing. "Rubbish. You have nothing to apologize for."
"I got you into this mess. The real reason they're doing this is because of my parents and me. God knows what they have against us, but it seems pretty strong that they're willing to affect the people around me."
"You didn't get me into this mess. Everything happens for a reason, as cliché as it may sound. Things have changed for you, and for me as well, and the only way we can solve this is to accept the fact that we live in this mundane, psychopathic…almost perfect reality." She was speaking, yet she didn't feel that it was really her talking. Her brain seemed to have shut itself out by the first few words of her sentence. She seemed more empowered, and more enlightened than she had ever been. He looked at her, and it almost shocked her to find herself tantalized by his sunken eyes.
"I just don't want you getting hurt because of me." The sincerity in his tone almost justified the escalated beating of her heart. Almost.
"And I emulate your feelings. Trust me when I say that you're the last person I'd want to see hurting." She took in a deep breath that pierced through her lungs. She was thankful to at least see an effort to smile in him. It tugged at the corner of his lips, and she smiled with him as well.
"I won't say some useless rubbish like 'we can get through this together', because that would make me uncertain. What I am certain about, however, is that we will try to surpass this." Somehow, his eyes sparkled vividly at her words, and that certain feeling of accomplishment started to seep through her.
"Harry, what I saw last night was morbid and wrong and just…completely maniacal, that I couldn't even bare talking about it without feeling nauseated." Harry looked at her with an amused look.
"Was that random or what?" He chuckled. Hermione remained blank for a few seconds, before analyzing what she had just said. She snickered with him for a minute's time before composing herself once again. She scolded herself inwardly on saying the stupidest things when she tries to make a point.
"Oh, of course it wasn't random! I just really wanted to express how much it made me want to puke out the beans I had the day before. Or maybe it had gone in a different direction…?" She said laughingly, a look of sarcasm present on her features. Harry's chuckles morphed into a bemused laugh. Soon enough, both of them seemed to be lost in their own laughs, gaping for air once in a while. Hermione looked sideways, only to hear Harry's genuine laugh reverberate around the walls of the living room. This, in turn, made her glad that somehow, he found the time to laugh amidst the chaos they had brought themselves into.
Harry's attempts at stopping only made it worse, as his feet tangled within Hermione's crumpled sheets, dragging them both from the couch to the floor. Now, Hermione found their current position very compromising, to say he least. Soon enough, she found herself very uneasy, rather than chagrined by the fact that she was leaning, quite forcefully, on top of him.
Harry was still laughing, obviously unaware on how awkward this situation was for her.
"My apologies, Hermione." Harry said in between chuckles. She smiled shyly, her elbows nestling, quite comfortably actually, on his chest.
"It's okay." She whispered breathlessly, and still in full knowledge that Harry was clueless on the effect of this on her. Harry's laughter died down immediately, and it was then that Hermione stared down at him.
It wasn't a very cinematic moment, but it would do.
Harry smiled up at her, and she had done nothing but smile back widely. Too widely actually, that she had suddenly gone conscious of her teeth. She frowned instantly, her embarrassment showing by her cheeks. With a sigh, she rolled over to his side unsatisfied.
"That was fun." Harry said as he looked sideways at her. She looked back at him, their faces within a safe distance from each other.
"Agreed." Simultaneously, both looked back up to the pristine white ceiling, with nothing but contented expressions on their faces. The carpet beneath them seemed so comfortable to Hermione, that somehow, she was tempted to go back to sleep.
"Thank you for the laugh, Hermione. I needed it." Harry said softly.
"Well, you're very welcome. Thank you for taking me in at my moment of weakness. I needed it more." She replied.
"You're welcome." Harry said in a low, drowsy voice. With that, Hermione's eyelids slowly closed themselves. She wanted to drift into a deep sleep once again, and wake up to a night filled with full teacups and endless hours of chat with him. She was so fascinated by him, and his whole story. And somehow, wherever it was hidden, she fancied his whole being. She adored him.
"Hermione, I might've just had an epiphany." Harry suddenly said. Her eyes opened immediately.
"And what might that be?" She asked, curiosity piqued inside of her.
"We might just need each other more than we think." He didn't bother to look at her, and neither did she to him. It was understood.
"You might've just summed up everything in my head right now."
The sun was at full blast, and Lunch neared. Hermione figured she didn't need to eat anymore. She'd had enough tea for the day.
---thepianist---
"Sir Pettigrew. How lovely to see you this morning." A short stout man walked briskly through the small doorframe with his chin up high. His petticoat billowed behind him as the wind flew violently past the both of them. His top hat sat firmly on top of his head; Too firmly perhaps, that people may assume that it is glued to his head. Other than that, Riddle still felt that jolt of excitement in him.
"Same here, Sir Riddle. Now, would you please lead me to a table so we could discuss some serious matters?" Peter Pettigrew demanded hotly. Riddle obliged to his requests immediately, calling out Draco's name, who was assigned to watch over their conversation on that day. Peter eyed him questioningly, but Riddle assured him that Draco would keep the confidentiality of their dialogue sacred.
"So Sir Pettigrew-"
"Please. Call me Peter." He interrupted. Riddle nodded in respect.
"Peter, my apologies. So as I was saying, you called me days ago to discuss something with me?" Riddle questioned. Peter looked at him with distaste for a second.
"Ah, yes. Well, I shall explain it to you bit by bit so that you may realize the grave importance of the situation-" Draco coughed by the far end, interrupting Peter for a second. He mumbled a small sorry, urging Peter to continue.
"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," Draco glared at him. "Tom, it seems to me that your whole army owns us a sum of money." By this time, Riddle seemed confused.
"Army? What army?" He asked in all befuddlement. Peter rolled his eyes for a second in frustration.
"Your bloody English army from the war! You borrowed a sum of money from our side, if you don't recall." The image of James Potter flashed in Riddle's head, and an immediate smile appeared on his expression
"Oh, you say? I don't really recall any…"
"Don't play with me, Riddle!" Peter exclaimed furiously. Riddle seemed non-pulsed.
"Look Peter, I think your shouting is unreasonable. Let us handle this as gentlemen, not as degenerates." Peter sat down as Riddle asked of him, yet still seething from the rage he felt at those moments.
"Tom, I am talking about serious matters here. A representative of yours borrowed a large amount of money from us. Now, we expected it back a week after, but it never came. Knowing that you were the General of the troop, you should know where it is, or at least take the initiative to give it back to its rightful owners."
"Peter, I can honestly say that I don't know any money-borrowing matters such as that." Peter sighed deeply. Somehow, Riddle was having fun playing this game of his. The smug smile on his face said so.
"Tom, you are well aware that I was a spy for the German army, am I correct?"
"Well, of course! One of the finest, actually."
"And I've stuck to that mission up to now. What I can say now, however, is that the government over there doesn't seem very pleased with what they've lost. They're starting to threaten you, Tom. Soon enough, they'll be threatening our country." Peter's face was blank, and his voice was almost monotonous. Riddle, however, remained composed on his seat.
"They know about the money that we 'allegedly' borrowed?" He asked.
"Sadly, yes. They found out about it missing, but not exactly who stole it. They're on a serious search right now." Peter gave him a knowing look, and Riddle nodded his head in agreement.
"Ah, yes. Of course. Well, I'm sorry to say this but I'm completely clueless on this whole situation. Perhaps if you give me the name of the representative, it can refresh my memory?" Peter remained silent in thought, and from the far end, Draco smirked to himself.
"Yes, yes I remember. His name was James Potter. He said you requested for the money to build campsites in five different locations." Riddle looked more pleased than he has ever been.
"Well Peter, First of all you've been cheated on. I didn't request for anything. And secondly, James Potter is dead." The way Peter's face paled seemed so amusing to Riddle that it made him chuckle to himself.
"You-you're bloody kidding me."
"No, I'm afraid I'm not." Peter looked stricken at that moment, as he sat immobile on his seat.
"Condemn me to hell, why don't you?" Peter muttered to himself. Riddle shifted in his seat, to have himself facing Peter directly in the eye.
"Peter, I don't know if this is enough, but I know something-actually someone who can satisfy your needs."
"I don't need a bloody prostitute right now!" At this remark, Draco snorted in amusement at Peter's stupidity.
"No, you randy bastard. I'm talking about an heir to James Potter." Peter remained dead still as his pupils dilated in mischief.
"He has a son?"
Riddle's plans were going quite well.
---thepianist---
A/N: I find Riddle to be one of the sexiest people alive. Honestly. His mischief is just too adorable (excluding the utter adorableness of Harry and Hermione, of course). Well, I have to tell you, this little piece was written amidst the state of pure writer's block. You could tell how crappy some parts are (and by crappy I mean totally cliché).
Thank you to the Hot IQ's for serving me a dose of their awesome music to keep me writing.