#so he probably plays up his background as a muggleborn orphan for sympathy points from the public

[could-have-beens]

If By Happenstance

Because you could have loved me forever. And maybe in another universe, I let you.

One of the unfinished WIPs I unearthed recently is what was supposed to be a collection of standalone one-shot AUs, each with a different theme and centered around Tom and Ginny. I never got around to writing the whole series, but I did finish some of it, so I thought I would post it while editing TLoCC.

Fair warning, I haven’t proofread this in two years. Enjoy at your own risk!

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"Coward," hissed Ginny. "I can't believe you! After all that talk about being polite and honouring your promises —"

"I stand by what I said," said Harry, with an unrepentant grin.

She glowered. "You're hiding."

"I'm not. You just happen to be in a room full of adoring fans."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She thought her days of humouring Slughorn and attending his get-togethers were over after graduation, but he hadn't stopped badgering her since she started playing for the Harpies. If she had known she was going to be accosted by wide-eyed teenagers and stammering old men, she wouldn't have bothered coming to the party at all.

"You should be the one being pestered by Slughorn," Ginny groused. She plopped herself down gracelessly on the empty chair next to Harry. "I'm just the plus one. You're the one with the bloody invitation."

Harry shrugged, but his eyes were dancing. "I guess Quidditch stars have more clout than us lowly, underpaid Aurors."

"What about the Minister's son?" she teased.

He grimaced, casting a shifty, alarmed look around the room to check if anyone had heard her. "Don't even go there. I'm not supposed to get into fights with old men over politics."

"You could not fight and turn the other cheek," suggested Ginny.

Harry snorted. "I'll do it when you do."

"Well, I don't think Slughorn's noticed you yet, so you're safe for the time being."

"As long as he keeps fawning over Riddle, I'm good."

"Who?"

"My boss." Harry leaned back and discreetly inclined his head toward the center of the room. "The pretty boy with dark hair."

Ginny followed his line of sight and found the man in question, and thought pretty was a massive understatement. Riddle was caught in what looked like a heated discussion with a flustered-looking Slughorn, a stout, bespectacled man, and a tall, stern-looking woman — politicians, the same people Harry had been avoiding since he and Ginny arrived. They were too far for Ginny to hear what they were saying, but she could see that the older man and woman were red with anger, talking a mile a minute, and Slughorn was trying to placate them, only to be cut off at every turn. Riddle, though, looked relaxed and even faintly amused, and he carried himself with all the grace and arrogance of a typical Slytherin. He didn't seem to falter as he spoke, calm and composed even as the man and woman grew more and more irate and Slughorn grew increasingly bemused.

"That's the Head Auror?" said Ginny, incredulous. Riddle couldn't be that much older than her, maybe around Percy's age at most. "He's a bit young, isn't he?"

"No, not the Head Auror," muttered Harry. "Head of the Department."

Her eyes widened. No wonder Slughorn wouldn't leave the guy's side.

She tried to remember if Percy had ever mentioned him. The way her brother rambled on about his job at the Ministry, she didn't doubt that he knew — or, at least, knew of — the other man, being so close in age and a Department Head himself. It wasn't exactly common, having such a high-ranking job in the Ministry at their age.

"I think I've seen him before," mused Ginny. "What did you say his name was?"

"Tom Riddle," said Harry, in a tone that reminded her of how he used to say Malfoy when they were kids — not quite sneering, but heavy with exasperation.

"Tom Riddle? The guy the Prophet keeps calling the next Minister of Magic?"

"That's the one," he grumbled. "The next Minister . . . my mum just got elected and they're already calling him the next Minister. . . ."

"Well, he is cute," she said offhandedly. "Bet that's why. You don't get a lot of handsome men in politics."

Harry stared, brows pulled together as he frowned.

"What?" Ginny raised her hands in mock defense. "I'm just saying. I do have eyes."

"He's a bit of a prat though."

"Is he? I think he seems nice."

His eyes narrowed. "Seems nice or looks nice?"

She nudged his leg with her foot. "They don't have to be mutually exclusive."

"You don't work with the guy."

"Why? What's wrong with him?"

"Well," he said, considering the matter. "He just always seems — I don't know, a bit fake, I guess? Maybe that's just me."

Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Wasn't he Head Boy? The one before — no, after Percy."

"I think so. Can't say I remember much of him from Hogwarts."

She scoffed. "I don't think you remember much of anything that doesn't involve Ron and Hermione."

"Hey, I remember plenty," Harry protested.

"Like what?"

As if on cue, a Celestina Warbeck song started playing, and there were excited murmurs and sudden exclamations as the guests recognized the music.

"Like how much you love this song," said Harry cheekily. He held out his hand. "Dance with me?"

"Of course," Ginny said, putting her hand in his.

They stood and, without caring whether anyone else was dancing or not, they swayed along to the music slowly, careful to stay along the edges of the dance floor. When the song was over, they returned to their table, off in a nice secluded corner of Slughorn's party. Unfortunately, no more than a minute after, Ginny was swept up into a dance by another guest, and for the next hour, she was approached for pictures, autographs, and more dancing.

To Harry's credit, he didn't leave their table and kept her company throughout it all. Of course, he found the whole thing amusing, and took every chance he got to rib her mercilessly.

"Oh, the price of being famous," said Harry, snickering.

Ginny threw him a withering glare. She was just able to tell him to bugger off before she heard another set of footsteps approaching. Stamping on a smile, she turned around to greet the fan, but was stunned to find herself facing Tom Riddle instead.

At once, Harry straightened. "Good evening, sir."

"Potter," Riddle said, smiling amiably. "Shouldn't you be enjoying the party?"

"I'm enjoying it just fine, sir," said Harry glancing at Ginny for a beat too long. Harry turned back to Riddle, as if suddenly remembering he was there. "Er — Gin, this is Tom Riddle, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Sir, this is —"

"Ginny Weasley," Riddle cut in smoothly, extending his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Ginny blinked, a bit thrown by the sudden weight of his attention, and shook his hand.

"What gave it away?" she said with a wry smile.

Riddle gestured to her hair, chuckling lightly. "You must get that a lot."

"Unfortunately, yeah."

The first notes of the next song began to play, and Ginny realized that Riddle was still holding her hand.

"Would you care to dance?" said Riddle. His dark eyes seemed to glitter in the light.

Ginny cast a questioning look at Harry, who had a pinched expression on his face. For a moment, it looked like he was going to say no, but then he gave a little shrug, his mouth set in a grim line.

"If you want, Gin," he said tightly.

"All right," she said, hesitant, and suddenly Riddle was leading her to the dance floor.

A kind of ripple crossed the room as a few heads turned in their direction, but whether it was because they were looking at Ginny or at Riddle, she wasn't sure. There were more couples dancing now, blocking her view of Harry, and though she tried to look for him, her eyes were drawn to her dancing partner.

Riddle really was quite beautiful up close. Dark hair artfully coiffed, high cheekbones and a strong jaw, lips curled in a crooked smile. It almost hurt to look at him — it was like looking at the sun bouncing off snow.

And yet Ginny found that she couldn't turn away. There was something about his eyes, dark and intense, that seemed almost challenging, as though he was daring her to look away, as though waiting to see if she would bristle under the intensity of his gaze.

His eyes never left hers, even as he bowed low and lifted her hand to his lips.

"A bit forward, isn't it?" said Ginny, raising an eyebrow.

His smile didn't falter. "Is it? I thought it would be romantic."

She snorted. "Romance already? You barely know me."

"But I would like to," he said, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I admit, I've heard all about you, Miss Weasley."

Riddle couldn't quite meet her eyes, and if it had been anyone else, Ginny would have thought he was nervous.

Being coy more like, she thought, as Harry's words rose unbidden. Even if he was shy — but no, he didn't seem the type, and there was something . . . Ginny didn't know what it was, but something about him seemed off. Maybe not fake, like Harry had said, but Riddle had that indefinable air of someone wearing a facade.

Ginny would know — she too had worn her fair share. Or maybe it was just the politician in Riddle shining through, underneath all the charisma and pretty smiles.

He was a good dancer, if nothing else. He was all grace as they glided across the room, his movements effortless and elegant.

"Have you?" she said dully. "Big Quidditch fan, then?"

"Can't stand it, actually. No offense."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "Points for honesty. Why are you dancing with me then?"

Riddle arched an eyebrow. "Do I need a reason?"

"Generally, yeah. Otherwise I'm gonna think you're out to get me or something. Haven't ruled that out yet, mind you."

He chuckled. "I think I've already told you why."

She grimaced. "Yes . . . romance."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

Well. 

There wasn't. Not really. It wasn't like Ginny was seeing anyone, but . . .

She thought of Harry, who had cajoled her into coming to this bloody party, with his too messy hair and his kind eyes. The thought of coming tonight hadn't even crossed her mind until he asked her, and a little part of her had always thought —

Ginny shook her head. No sense in thinking about what-ifs and could-have-beens.

"You said you've heard of me," she said coolly. "Should I be worried?"

"You probably don't remember," said Riddle, "but we were in Horace's club at the same time, back in school."

"Were we?" It was possible. Riddle seemed old enough that they must have been in Hogwarts together at some point, though Ginny would have been too young to attend Slughorn's parties then.

Riddle nodded. "Horace kept inviting me back after I graduated, and I couldn't turn down the chance to see Hogwarts again." He smiled, and again she was taken aback by how unfairly charming he was. "He talked about you a great deal, but we were never formally introduced."

"What a loss for you," said Ginny.

Riddle met her gaze daringly. "I agree."