Can't run from time

Riddle Mansion

Hermione glared at him, pulling away entirely. "You're insufferable," she muttered, turning toward the bathroom.

Tom watched her go, his expression unreadable as she disappeared behind the door.

-The Next Morning – 

The atmosphere in Professor Dippet's office was formal, almost stifling. Hermione stood slightly behind Tom, her hands clasped in front of her as the group of officials—a few Ministry representatives, Dippet, and Dumbledore—sat around the desk.

Tom, as always, was the picture of composure. His dark eyes scanned the parchment in front of him, his expression calm and unreadable.

"This document," one of the Ministry officials explained, "formally transfers the Riddle family estate and all associated assets to you, Mr. Riddle. It's a significant responsibility, particularly for someone so young."

Tom nodded curtly. "I understand," he said, his tone measured.

Dippet cleared his throat. "It's worth noting, Tom, that the estate is located in a Muggle town. If you choose to reside there, you must exercise discretion when using magic."

Tom's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Of course, Headmaster. Discretion is my specialty."

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes, instead focusing on the ornate quill Tom picked up. His name flowed elegantly onto the parchment, sealing the transfer.

"Congratulations," Dumbledore said, his tone carefully neutral. "The Riddle estate is yours." Tom inclined his head slightly, his expression betraying nothing. "Thank you."

As the officials began packing up their things, Dippet turned to the pair. "I'll allow you to visit the property today to assess its condition. Remember, the estate has been abandoned since- well, since your father was murdered. It will require significant work to make it livable."

Tom's gaze flicked to Hermione, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I'm sure we'll manage."

Moments later, Dippet handed them an Apparition token—a smooth, polished stone engraved with the coordinates of the Riddle estate.

"Good luck," Dippet said, nodding toward them.

Tom pocketed the token, offering Hermione his arm. She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand on his, and with a sharp crack, they Disapparated. ----

The air was cold, Hermione wrapped her scarf on tighter  as she stepped into the Riddle House's grand foyer. Dust coated every surface, and cobwebs hung like curtains from the cracked ceiling beams. The faint smell of mildew and something metallic lingered in the air, and Hermione couldn't help but feel a chill as her eyes landed on the dark, faded bloodstains near the entryway.

Tom walked ahead of her, his footsteps echoing on the creaky floorboards. He held the signed inheritance papers in his hand, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the house. "It's mine," he said, his voice soft but laced with triumph.

Hermione frowned, her arms crossed. "It doesn't exactly scream 'home.'"

Tom turned to her, his lips curving into a faint smirk. "Not yet," he replied, stepping closer. "But it will. With time and effort, this place will reflect my vision—and serve its purpose."

His words sent a shiver down her spine. Hermione's gaze flicked to the staircase, where more stains marred the once-elegant banister. "I still don't understand why you brought me here," she said, keeping her tone even.

"Because," Tom said, tilting his head as if studying her reaction, "you're my wife. Therefore this is your place as well. You should have some say in what happens here."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and Hermione felt a strange feeling of unease.

They walked to the staircase. Hermione stepped over the dried blood, flinching. "My grandfather" Tom smirked proudly, stepping on the blood and onto the stairs behind her. She looked up at him with hatred.

Toms eyes widened. Hermione quickly turned her face away and walked up the stairs. Tom grabbed her wrist from behind. "What was that?" he said softly, putting his arm around her waist. They continued walking up the staircase side by side.

"what was what?" she said quietly.

"that look..I haven't seen you look at me that way since the day we met.." he looked into her eyes.

She hid away all emotions and said "You reminded me of someone. That's all.." she looked away.

He cupped her face and forced her to look at him "who?"

"Voldemort" she said boldly. She took his arms off her and walked to the next room to explore.

They spent the rest of the day cleaning and restoring the house in science. Tom worked methodically, using spells to mend broken furniture and scrub away years of grime. Hermione focused on practical tasks, using magic sparingly as she polished silverware and dusted off old portraits.

As the hours wore on, they found themselves in the parlor, staring at a cracked mirror above the fireplace.

"This house has seen things, I can feel the dark magic buzzing around me" Hermione murmured, her voice barely audible.

Tom's reflection caught her gaze in the mirror. "And it will see more," he said, his tone cold...and eyes red.