Hermione couldn’t tear her eyes from the compelling figure before her. What was it about him? He might be twenty years older than she, but what struck her was how he seemed a lot more... worldly. She knew his reputation enough to be awed, but even if she’d never heard the name Tom Riddle, even if he’d arrived without bodyguard in tow, Hermione was sure she’d get the same feeling. Like she was dealing with someone dangerous, cunning, powerful. It was in the slash of those high cheekbones, the intelligence behind those clever eyes... Hermione’s own eyes worked their way down his tall body... there was a warning in that trim, muscular torso... even the relaxed curve of his hands with those long, slender fingers, seemed to convey a dormant threat.