Chapter Text
Tom Riddle was a loving father and a grieving husband.
He was a generous benefactor to the East London Home for Children, where he’d spent his entire childhood. Severus knew better though.
Tom Riddle was a manipulative and power-hungry psychopath who led a notorious crime organization and committed numerous murders.
But this wasn't news to anyone in the room.
Severus was summoned from Scotland in the middle of the night. He had to be in Liverpool by noon the next day for an important meeting.
“Prince,” Tom said cooly. “Come forward.”
Severus responded to the pseudonym he employed during this case, "Sir". He had been working on this case since 1984, and it had been seven long years. "You wanted to see me," he said.
“Yes. I want you to do something for me.”
“Of course, sir.”
Tom motioned for the door to be opened by one of his soldiers, Crabbe Jr. Walking in was a young girl, not older than twenty. Severus thought that she looked familiar. Was this little Hermione? He remembered that Riddle had her sent away to school in the States. There was some trouble with some boys.
“You remember my daughter,” Tom said leaning back in his leather chair. Everyone knew to stand when he was sitting. He always had to maintain a power imbalance. He could be at ease and everyone else had to stand at attention.
“Yes, I do. Nice to see you again,” Severus told the girl. She said nothing. He noted her simple white dress and the matching headband in her hair. She was the picture of young innocence. Maybe virginity. Severus got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Tom stood then, reaching out for Hermione to join him in a side embrace. With his arm slung around her shoulders, Tom told Severus, “You will marry Hermione.”
Hermione must have already known because she didn’t react at all. Severus was thankful that he had learned to control his microaggressions years ago when he first started at the NCA. This was not what he signed up for when he took this case. He was supposed to gain Riddle’s trust and the trust of his associates to gather useful intel. Severus didn’t expect Riddle to use his daughter in the machinations of the organized crime syndicate.
Severus maintained character. “I am honored, Sir.”
“I figure you would be. I want you to be my next in command. I can’t give my life’s work to non-family so I’m making you family. Your sons will be my grandsons.”
Hermione stayed by her father’s side, behaving like a princess. She gazed at her father as if he hung the moon and pulled the sun across the sky. Riddle was a king in her eyes, he thought. Severus was scared. He was supposed to produce sons with this girl. How was he supposed to marry this girl? They didn't even know his real name. How deep was too deep when undercover?
“How old are you?” he asked her slightly panicked.
But Riddle answered for her. She never even opened her mouth to answer herself. “Nineteen. Twenty in September.”
Severus pondered on the way she was raised. Riddle was an aggressive man, who probably taught his daughter to obey every command. Severus hardly knew anything about her.
“When is our wedding, Sir?”
Riddle appeared to be contemplating, but Severus knew it was an act. Everything he did had a purpose.
“In one hour.”
Well, that explains the white dress.