(for those of you who aren't reading A Letter to Her, Tom is slightly nicer in this part of the story, though he didn't start that way. still, Abraxas and Hermione are pretty much the only two people he cares about. And this comes at the part of the fic after Hermione and Tom have broken up over the Chamber issue. thanks!)

The things I thought about him doing to me drove me mad. So ridiculously, completely mad. I could never have him, but I wanted him more than I wanted oxygen.

Tom Riddle would never run his hands down the sides of my body, never press himself against me, never bite open my lips and push his tongue inside my mouth. So what was happening? Why was he pulling me into his bed at night, wrapping his arms around me and letting me breathe in that scent of sweat and sage and salt?

Nothing else. No kissing or anything more than that. Just touching. Sometimes I'd wake up and he wouldn't notice, but he'd be running his fingers through my hair so slowly and so delicately, it felt like my insides were going to crack.

He was distraught about Hermione and wasn't sure how to love someone and lose someone. Being close to me because he couldn't be close to her. It couldn't possibly have been more. He couldn't want me just because I was me.

He never had before…

I remembered when I first met Tom Riddle. We were both so young, and I'd always known something was different about me. When all girls would talk about which boys they'd liked, I'd have to bite my tongue not to agree, not to want to join in. Not that I didn't love quidditch and other traditionally male activities, I just wanted to participate in other less traditional male activities.

He was sitting all alone on the Hogwarts Express. There was a cabin next door that was filled with the friends I knew growing up, and then him, just him, all alone and watching out the window. I'd pick him every time.

Even then I thought he was perfect with his combed, brown hair and straight posture. The way he stared down at his wand like it was the key that would break him out of prison. Now I know in a way it was.

I stood there, all of eleven, just watching him and crumbling apart on the inside because I wasn't supposed to feel like that about this boy. My heart wasn't supposed to pick up speed, blood wasn't supposed to pool in my cheeks.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?" Tom had said not looking back.

My stomach careened to my feet. "I'm… uh… I wasn't. Can I sit in here?"

"I don't know. Can you?"

I sighed and plopped down across from him. "I'm Abraxas Malfoy."

"Tom Riddle," he said.

That was the first time I ever heard this name and it was the most beautiful sound, mysterious, intriguing. The letters and syllables rolled around my tongue, my mind.

Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle.

Now, here I was years later, laying in his arms, my face pressed into the soft skin of his neck, feeling just as nervous and excited as that boy on the Hogwarts Express.

I was glad we had our own room this year. Perk of Tom's being a prefect. If we didn't, I wouldn't wake up tangled and hot in his arms. And that would be the worst thing I could think of right now. I needed him… he was my anchor, my gravity. And I was so in love with him I could hardly contain it.

"Hey, Brax," he muttered. "You awake?"

"Yeah." I touched his cheek and he leaned into my hand with a sigh. This had to mean he wanted me as more than just a friend, right? Not that it mattered, not that it could. I had to get married to a girl and produce an heir. If I didn't, my family would disown me and that vengeful ass of a vampire would kill them. If only I could figure out why Dracula had any interest in who I married?

"You look," Tom swallowed, "pretty in the mornings."

I laughed, trying to make it seem like his words weren't big deal. Like I wasn't combusting on the inside with the desire to kiss him, to pull him down on top of me, to whisper, I love you, I love you, I love you, in his ear, until the words didn't sound like words anymore.

"Shouldn't we go to class?"

Tom's hand ran down my shirt, to the space between the hem and my waistband of my boxers. I kind of hoped he wouldn't move much closer to me. My body was responding to him as it always did, and I wasn't sure how he'd react if he knew. Not that he didn't know about my preference for men. He was the first person I told, the only until Hermione. Tom had never cared, never changed how he acted around me in the slightest. (Until recently, when all this started to happen). But he never ever judged, and that meant the universe to me.

"It's Saturday."

"Oh, right. What do you want to do?"

Tom smiled, a devilish glint in his eyes. "I wouldn't be opposed to staying in bed."

I looked up at him, letting my bottom lip fall slightly and keeping my eyes on his blue ones. Two inches, Tom. All he'd had to do was lean down just two inches and cover my mouth with his. One of these days it would happen. With all the things he'd been saying about me, calling me pretty, holding me while I slept. One of these days he'd just kiss me. But we were running out of days.

It continued like that. Falling asleep together, sitting closer than necessary at breakfast. One time right in the middle of Transfiguration when we were sitting in the back row, Tom just reached over and took my hand.

My heart jumped into my throat as shivers coursed through my body. Terrified because it was in public, excited because it was Tom and I loved him and he'd never held my hand before.

Tom leaned over and whispered, "Dumbledore sure does know how to drone on and on."

I nodded, just squeezing Tom's hand and hoping nobody caught us. The last thing I needed was for my feelings about men, about Tom, to become public knowledge. Then Leila couldn't marry me without public scandal. She happened to know that I wasn't attracted to women. She was fine with that if it meant she could still get the wealth and prestige of being a Malfoy. Marrying her was also the only way my family wouldn't disown me. I'd like to think in a choice between my parents and Tom, I'd choose Tom, but I was a Malfoy and that meant something. That was a tradition, a historical legacy, I couldn't selfishly let die with myself. So I'd marry Leila, to save my parent's opinion of me, to keep the Malfoy name powerful in the wizarding world, and to protect them from whatever wrath Dracula had cooked up.

As I tried to listen to Professor Dumbledore, all I could think about were the circles Tom was drawing on the palm of my hand and the warmth building in my chest. What if there was a world where Tom and I could be together? Where I could kiss him without fear of what he'd think or what any one else would think? For the briefest moment, I imagined marrying Tom instead. My best friend, my best everything. He was the best of me and I'd give almost anything to be his husband instead of Leila's.

Even though Tom and I spent most of our time together, as that time was running out, I still cared about Hermione and she about me. We found a way to put our differences about Tom aside and still be friends, mostly by not talking about him. She was the one person in the world who knew I was in love with Tom. She also happened to be his ex-girlfriend, and they didn't part on good terms. She was convinced that Tom opened up the Chamber of Secrets and was using a basilisk to hunt down muggleborns. I didn't know who was doing that, but it wasn't Tom. For some reason though, she just wouldn't believe it. And losing Hermione sent Tom over the edge, I really thought he would fall apart, return to his cold, often cruel, demeanor, but instead he fell into me. I had no idea how to respond to that. Maybe I should have sat there and pled Tom's case to Hermione. Maybe if I really loved Tom I'd have done that, but I only had a few weeks left. And this was selfish, but those few weeks were mine. I'd stood by Tom for six years and now he wanted to hold me, to touch me, maybe nothing more, but I wasn't giving it up for a girl who just let him go. I loved Hermione, but if she couldn't see how incredible, how remarkable, Tom Riddle was then maybe she didn't deserve him. Not until she could see it for herself. Not until she could love him for him. I couldn't help her with that.

I wanted them to be together one day. Tom would like to marry her, and it would be good for him. She had always been good for him, but not now. Merlin, I didn't care how wrong or selfish it was, but not now. I couldn't let him go now.

Like most afternoons while Tom was attending to hall patrol for prefect duty, I headed to the library, past the dusty shelves to a small table in the far corner where Hermione sat. There was no one else around.

"Hey, Brax," she said with a sigh. "Muffliato." That was a spell she knew, that I'd never heard before her, but it was extremely useful in keeping conversations private.

I sat down next to her and dropped my charms book on the table. "How are you?"

"All right."

"You don't seem all right."

Silence fell between them before she said, "I'm worried about you."

"Hermione can we not do this?" We needed to keep to our not talking about Tom understanding. I wasn't sure where this would lead.

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

"It's not like-"

"I don't mean it like that." Hermione laid her hand on mine. "He's dangerous. Maybe not to you, personally, but he's involved in dangerous things. He does bad things. You're not bad, you're good and you're going to go on to live a good life and do good things."

I snorted. "An arranged marriage is not a good life."

"Not ideal, but it doesn't have to be bad. I just don't want him to drag you down with him."

Anger rose inside me. I wished she would just leave well enough alone. "I've known him a lot longer than you. I've lived with him. He's my best friend and I know him better than anyone in the world."

She opened her mouth and I cut her off.

"Yes, even better than you. Just because you had sex with him, that doesn't mean he lov-" I just stopped, my head fell into my hands. What was I even talking about?

Hermione's hand fell on my shoulder. "That's not what I meant."

"He is better than you give him credit for. He didn't open the Chamber of Secrets."

She let out a sad huff of air and looked out the foggy window. "Yes, he did."

"Agree to disagree, Hermione. I love you. You're great and you're my best friend along with Tom. But I'm with Tom no matter what happens. It's always been that way, it always will be. You can't talk me out of that."

"Wish I could."

I needed to tell her this. We hadn't talked about it since before she started seeing Tom. "I'm still in love with him," he whispered. "I know you were together, but…"

"He's… you and him are… you know."

I shook my head. "Not exactly." I felt so weird talking to her about this, but who else could I talk about it with? "He holds my hand sometimes and we've been sleeping together."

She half-smiled at me. "Oh."

"No. Not like that. Just we sleep in the same bed."

Hermione placed her hand on my knee. I'd always felt so comfortable with her. She was smart, and thoughtful and made me feel normal.

"I think it's a bad idea, but you are getting married and will never have another chance. This is kind of hard for me to say because you know I care for… I mean I cared for Tom, but then, I don't know, it's you and I want you to be happy."

I furrow my brow and look at Hermione. Her hair is bushy, untamed mess, her cheeks pink, and I thought that of all the girls in the world she was somehow the prettiest to me.

"What is it?"

"He loves you."

"What? He's my friend, I mean. He loves me as a friend." Did he? Since when did love and Tom even exist in the same universe?

She shook her head. "I think it's more than that. It's hard to explain, but I know the way he feels about you, Brax. He might be an insane dark wizard, but he really does care about you."

Tom was not insane. And dark, I didn't know about dark, but to me, he was brilliant, shining, extraordinary.

"How can you say this to me? After you were together?"

"You mean how can I not be jealous?"

"Well, yeah."

Her brown eyes regarded me momentarily then she said, "Were you jealous of me when I was with Tom?"

I looked down at my hands, played with the silver Malfoy family ring on my finger. Had I been jealous? Not like I should have been. I mean, yeah, I wanted to be in her position. I wanted to touch Tom the way she got to, but I didn't want her to not be with him… it was a complicated feeling. "No, not really. Hermione?"

"I know."

I paused. "Do you think he'll ever kiss me?"

Her lips pursed, her eyes narrowed then she looked back at me. "I think he will."

That evening, I returned to our bedroom. Tom was already there, his hair wet from a shower. The room smelled of his soap, and he was wearing nothing but a towel.

Why did he do this to me?

"Where were you?" Tom's mouth stretched into yawn.

"At the library," I responded, trying not to stare at the way his torso narrowed into his hips.

Tom dropped his towel and pulled on his boxers in a swift movement that allowed me to see nothing. I wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

He grabbed a book and sat down on my bed, leaning against the headboard.

"Coming to bed soon?" asked Tom.

I nodded and started to unbutton my shirt. Tom let the book rest on his lap and lazily watched me. My whole body went numb. Should I stop? Should I tell him to stop? Or should I try to be really sexy about the removal of my school uniform?

In the end, I just took my shirt and tie off like I normally would, unbuttoned my pants and slipped out of them. Tom gave me a crooked grin.

"W-what were you doing?"

"Watching you," he said smoothly.

"Why?" I gasped.

Tom laughed under his breath. "Have you seen yourself, Brax?"

Blood pooled in my cheeks. Tom Riddle had been touching me, flirting with me… Hermione thought he cared for me as more than a friend. That was enough, right? It wouldn't be too forward of me if tonight, while we're lying in bed, I leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips.

I was excited. I was scared.

"Turn off the lights. You're blinding me."

"You do know how to nag, Riddle."

"Shut it."

I turned off the lights and nervously crawled in beside Tom. He stretched his arm out across the pillow so I could lie in the space between his shoulder and his chest. It was my favorite place in the world. It felt like nothing could hurt me, nothing could touch me when I was there.

My arm rested across his bare chest, my fingers moving back and forth. Tom let out a soft sigh.

"I like lying here with you," I said.

"I hate it. Get out of my bed," he said harshly.

I punched him in the ribs. "It's my bed, honey."

Tom stiffened. My eyes widened, heart kicking against my ribs What did I just call him?

"I don't care, dear," he snapped, but I could hear the humor in his voice. That was Tom – never making me explain myself. I loved him for it.

I yawned, pulling myself closer to him, so my forehead rested against Tom's cheek. His stubble was scratchy but somehow comforting. Maybe if I situated myself closer to his mouth.

"Tom?" I asked.

"Hm?"

"You've changed."

"Have I?"

I scratched my head. "You really don't notice?"

Tom's chest rises then lowers fast, dramatic. "Of course I notice. But I'm not entirely different. I just. I feel things now."

"And you didn't before?"

He shook his head and it shook mine with its movement. "Not like this."

"Like what?" I asked, breathless.

Tom's thumb went to my bottom lip and tugged down on it. His face inched closer to mine. This was it. Tom Riddle was about to kiss me.

He didn't.

Instead he just hovered there, his nose pressed to mine then moved his lips to the apple of my cheek and then to my ear.

My eyes shut, squeezed out of the world so all I could feel was Tom's hot breath curling around my ear and down my neck.

"Abraxas… what's happening to me?"

"I don't know." But I liked it. I really, really liked did.

"Would you still be here like this with me if I were the way I used to be?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation. "Forever."

He laughed and the sound vibrated against my skin. "Forever. I like the sound of that." Tom turned me so my back was facing him and then he pulled me up against him, his arm around my body, his head buried into my hair. We'd never slept like that before, but it sent tingles through me. That feeling of sitting on his lap.

But he still didn't kiss me.

During my last days at Hogwarts, I became desperate to kiss Tom just once in my life. I was leaving soon, my father dragging me out of school early to marry Leila. But no matter how desperate I was, I wanted him to kiss me because he wanted to, not because I made him. Just once, just for a second, I wanted to be kissed by someone who wanted me.

Some people may have said what Tom Riddle did to me was close enough, but it wasn't the same to me. Not at all. These other things could be explained away, but a real lips to lip kiss. That couldn't be ignored, that was evidence that he truly felt for me something like I felt for him.

That night when I was nearly asleep and Tom rolled on top of me. How could I begin to explain that night?

I started to say something, but he put a finger on my lips, then ran it down to my chin and pushed back on it, arching my neck. My mind flashed with every gross, terrible thing I could of. Rotten eggs and dead puppies… just anything to keep myself from reacting to the feel of his lips as they moved down my neck, his lower body pressed against mine.

When his hand moved away from my mouth, I whispered. "Tom, what are you doing?"

"Just touching you. Do you want me to stop touching you?"

"No... but why are you?"

"Does it matter?" Tom growled, his thumb just above the waistband of my boxers, stroking softly.

Yes, it matters. That's what I wanted to say, but I didn't. I just lay there while his dry mouth and his fingers roamed my arms, lower legs and chest, wanting to cry, to beg him for more, to beg him to change the world so we could be together. He was Tom Riddle… the most powerful wizard I'd ever known. He could change the world for us, right?

When he was done with whatever he was doing, he rolled off me and I scooted against him.

"Good night, Brax," he said, and the next thing I heard was the sound of his slight snoring. How would I ever sleep without that sound?

When my last day at Hogwarts arrived, I went through it like a dead man. Maybe I should have taken in every last thing about it, but it hurt too much to think at all. And it seemed like Tom was avoiding me. The truth was he might not have known I was leaving that day. I didn't like to talk about the exact time I would be leaving because it made it too real. Now it was here and I was packed and in the bedroom, about to leave.

I jumped when I realized Tom had been standing behind me. He was always so quiet. I had no idea how long he'd been there.

"Merlin, Tom. I didn't see you." I ran a hand through my hair, nerves jolting through me. Tom closed the door behind him, his gaze intent on me.

"Are you leaving now?" he asked.

"Yes." Tears burned at my eyes, but I refused to cry.

"Oh..." Tom moved toward me, slowly, fluidly.

I couldn't take it anymore. Losing him felt like losing myself, like happiness would die today and I couldn't just sit there and watch it.

"It's just – Leila can't stand me and I don't care for her either. It's strange to think that I'm going to go my whole life never being kissed by someone I want... someone who wants me."

There was a pause, as Tom's face became serious. "I need to tell you something. This isn't easy for me...I know how you feel about me and I've known for quite some time – and you know how I feel about Hermione but-"

My stomach dropped. He knew, like really, really knew that I was in love with him. For a long time. A part of me wanted to curl up in a ball and die of embarrassment. I couldn't bare to lose Tom as a friend.

"Tom. I can explain-"

"Just listen." He was so close to me now that nothing seemed to exist, but the beautiful planes of his face, the soft curves of his lips. Tom kept speaking and I could not believe the words. "I'm not going to let you go your whole life without... I care for you and I admire you. Your joy, your compassion, even your ridiculous sense of family duty. Everything you are that I'm not." Tom was too much, so bright and blinding, I couldn't even look at him. The things he was saying about me. "Abraxas Malfoy – you are one hell of a man."

His hand went to my cheek and the world tripped off the edge of a cliff.

"Tom?"

"Shh."

He pressed my body against the wall. I gasped because it was the greatest feeling the word. Then,

Finally

Finally

Finally

He closed the small gap between our mouths, his lips rough and perfect against mine.

My body shut down. I couldn't think or process or move. This was my wildest dream, a dream that for years I never even dared to dream, and it was true. It was a thousand times better than anything I could have ever imagined because it was real and it was Tom and I loved him so much.

I finally sighed and slid closer to Tom, my lips responding to his lips. His hand was on my neck, running his thumb over my skin. His other arm locked me in place. I grabbed his hair so I could keep sane, planted my hand on his hip so I could stay grounded. Nothing in life had ever been this good. I understood why everyone obsessed over kissing. It have someone taste you, someone accept and desire you like that, it wiped every other matter away.

Tom bit my lower lip then whispered in my ear. "You don't have to do this. I can stop him... I can do something-"

It hit me like a punch in the jaw, the cruciatus curse. There was nothing Tom could do. He couldn't change the world and neither could I. His kiss was without a doubt the greatest thing I'd ever known or felt, but the world was still the world. Harsh and unforgiving. And somehow conspiring against my love.

"Are you going to rescue me, Tom? Are we going to ride off into the sunset together?" There was bitterness in my voice that I regret.

"I don't know..." he whispered then said something no one had ever said to me before. And it was the most beautiful thing coming from his perfect mouth. "You're beautiful, Brax."

Tom just held me, our bodies shaking and beating together.

His hand gripped my hair, and he leaned down so, so close to kissing me again. I pushed him away, and I was dead. I didn't want him to stop, but he had to.

"Don't. Please. Tom, if you kiss me again, I'll never let you stop."

That was the dumbest thing I ever said. I should have never stopped him from kissing me. Nothing should have kept from being with him as long as he would have me. But I was a coward.

A/N: So I finally wrote this. I hope you like it. It was one going to be a one-shot up I think I'll do a two or three shot and show some other scenes from Brax's POV. Thanks for reading and please review, favorite and follow. I love knowing what you think about the story and about seeing this all from his POV. Now that the answer to how Hermione got into the past it out, I might do one from her POV as well.