Finally
Prompt: Tom and Hermione kiss on New Year's Eve
Summary: Tom restores paintings, but is now an upcoming novelist celebrating his first book release. Only he realizes he'd rather be spending the evening with his coworker, Hermione.
Rating: M just in case
Warning: Mentions of attempted sexual assault, fighting, murder
Tom migrated to where Hermione was gathering her things at the table.
"Leaving so soon?" She whirled around, embarrassed, messy curls whipping her face.
"Yeah," she mumbled, "I think it's it time to go home." She shifted to grab her winter coat, obviously uncomfortable in the glittery golden dress Abraxas had picked out for her. Tom had to do a double-take when she first came in - she didn't look like herself at all.
Hermione was giant cable knit sweaters and business blazers and ballet flats, classical music and appointment books and quick post-it notes left on his desk. He could see that this kind of event made her feel out of place, but he would change it for her. The gala was a multi-part event, serving as his first book release party, Bellatrix's engagement party, and, to the select few who knew this information, Tom's birthday.
It made sense for Tom to hold the release party at the museum - he did work there and the novel was about art. "But why is Bella having her engagement party there?"
With an unusual amount of snark, Hermione quipped, "Well, Bellatrix thinks it will make even her drugged out model skeleton look tasteful and classy to the press, but I think she did it more so she could stick it to Tom."
"Always the center of attention our Bella," Abraxas smiled in that sly way of his.
Tom couldn't understand why Hermione was in such a rush to leave. "Have Ron and Harry done something stupid with their firecrackers again?" He teased. But her face immediately stiffened at the mention of Ron.
"No, no they haven't. Not that they would tell me, anyways." She crossed her arms and stared down at her pinched feet.
"When's the last time you talked to Ronniekins?"
"Not since the breakup three months ago - he got Harry in the fall out, and Harry's talked to me since then and he gets why I did it, but he feels like he needs to keep an eye on Ron and. . . " Knowing she had begun to ramble, she clamped her lip and shrugged. Tom remembered the night before she had called it off; he had found her crying in the stairwell at work. He remembered being especially upset about it because it was her birthday, and as usual, Ron had chosen to watch football at the local pub instead.
"Break up with him," he had told her. What he wanted to add and didn't was, Date me instead. "You deserve much better. Not only did he forget about your birthday, but he chose not to spend it with you, and that's not right. Free yourself of this pain and call it." When their boss, Slughorn, found them hugging, he just winked at Tom and walked away.
"Sometimes I wish I had stopped all communications with Bella," he confessed, scratching the back of his neck while glancing behind him at the spectacle that was an almost drunk Bellatrix Black, almost Lestrange.
For two years, she had been dating both Rodolphus while seeing Tom on the side, a secret. But Tom didn't like being someone's hidden shame (he had already gone through that with his father), and he forced her to make an ultimatum: him or Rodo. A year ago, on New Year's Day, she had made her choice. Bellatrix, more motivated by Rodolphus' stability, wealth, and success, tossed Tom to the side.
"Worse birthday gift ever," Abraxas had joked in a hungover haze.
Bella and Tom had since maintained a rocky friendship, which included drunken booty calls from Bella and proclamations of Tom being a deity when she got too high.
"Though if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have written the novel," he added. His break up and uncontrollable emotions had been transformed into creative energy under Hermione's unwavering support and friendship. His novel, a mix of time travel, mystery, and fantastical, focused on an assassin who could vanish into the most prolific paintings and the art historian who begins to follow her trail.
What only Hermione and a trusted security guard knew was that the novel was inspired by his hiding of his victims in the paintings he restored at the museum - a perfect way to hide the evidence. He had hide Ron inside a painting, but she had denied the offer. She claimed Ron was already miserable enough in his mindless existence. She had offered to help him do the same with Bellatrix after their break up, but she was too high-profile. That's when she had started making him write instead.
"I'm going to leave before this becomes any more like Great Expectations," Hermione sighed. And perhaps it was - Tom as the penniless Pip trying to gain a fortune to impress the unattainable and cruel beauty, Estella, or Bellatrix. But it had stopped being about Bellatrix a year ago though.
"Are you sure? The party just started twenty minutes ago." Tom knew he had begun to sound desperate, so he tried to play it cool. "I heard Abraxas will be attempting to do Cormac's job later on this evening and giving a horribly intoxicated tour of the museum."
"Speak of the devil," she said, eyes widening at the sight of Cormac, "I need to get going. He still thinks because I agreed to get drinks with him once after I broke up with Ron that he owns me." She snagged her bag from the table and gave him a quick hug.
"I know it's your special day, and I'm so proud of you, but it I want to leave this place with my undergarments in tact, I have to run." She pecked Tom on the cheek and was about to scurry away when Tom grabbed her arm.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione's brow furrowed and her eyes darkened, the way they always did when a storm was brewing inside her.
"Cormac tried to grab me on the way to the bathroom and get handsy. I had to slug him; just how I wanted to spend my Friday night," she grumbled in a cynical manner. "Now I have to go, I'll call you in the morning about lunch." Gloves and bag in hand, she darted down the front steps and out the front glass door. He was suddenly very glad that Hermione had insisted they celebrate his birthday with brunch, just the two of them, at their favorite french cafe. He didn't like making a big deal about the date, and Hermione somehow knew how to celebrate it quietly.
"Tommy!" Cormac laughed, clapping a stained hand down on Tom's tux. Only comfortable with people he intimately knew touching him, Tom shrugged Cormac off and turned on his heel. It was evident that Hermione had beautiful aim, since McLaggen was still cradling his nuts with one hand. "She'll just beatcha up y'know," Cormac slurred. "But I do-n'tcare. I like'em feisty."
"She has asked you to stop pursuing her," Tom said flatly, hands curling into fists in his pockets. "You need to respect that and leave her alone."
"Nah, that just means she's playin' hardtoget." And then, a brilliant little idea came to Tom.
"Why don't you and I take a walk to a bar?" Without waiting for an answer, Tom laced an arm over Cormac's shoulder and steered him towards the entrance. But once they were out of view shot of everyone else, Tom turned them around so they were in the 1700 to 1900 gallery section and began making his way slowly to room 34 of the National Gallery.
"Hey, this isn't a bar," Cormac laughed. Tom kept walking them, waiting for the familiar paintings of Mr. Turner to appear. "Wherewe goin'?" Cormac asked, a little bit more nervous now. He was shaking under Tom's firm hand.
"We're going to visit my friends Hero and Leander." In front of the painting, The Parting of Hero and Leander, Tom finally stopped, making Cormac face the artpiece.
"I'm not going to kill you, Cormac, don't worry," Tom said in a soothing tone. "No, no, I'm going to let the painting do that." Cormac drunkenly writhed under Tom's grip, but it was of no use. "This is for Hermione and because of what you tried to do to her," Tom whispered in the would be attacker's ear before shoving him into the painting.
Grinning from ear to ear, Tom watched as Cormac fell deeper and deeper in before the wave of spirits from the right side of the painting seized the creep, drowning him in the waves before he ghosted up into their forever paused flight to the heavens.
Tom grabbed his phone and dialed the security guard whom he trusted with his life. "Luna," he called, "I need you to scrub him out of the tapes." Luna, like Tom, was gifted, but she could take objects or people out of videos rather than placing them in. Together, they were one killer team.
Back at the party, Tom apologized to his friend Abraxas. "I had to grab McLaggen a cab."
"What a lightweight - we're not even an hour in yet and there's still three hours till midnight," Ab scoffed.
"With the way everyone is drinking, you all won't make it to ten thirty, let alone midnight." And you won't see that I've slipped out. That part was easy actually - pretend to get drunk then insist you have to leave before you throw up.
"Boot and rally Tom-bomb!" Bellatrix wailed. "You have to stay! It's our party!"
Dropping his drunk act, Tom stated, "No, Bella, you've made this your party, and I'm going."
"Where are you going to go, hmm? That little mousey's things place?" Bella had never gotten along with Hermione, and Ab and he had to be carefully about having the two women together in the same room. "She's so boring, Tommy," Bellatrix whined pulling on his lapels. "She does things like read and write and do charity work."
Tom bit the inside of his cheek but the words still managed to come out in angry clips. "I write. That's why we're here tonight, remember? My book is published."
"Yes, well . . . I paid for this party to be my engagement party. I'm the star tonight, not her. You wouldn't be having this if it weren't for me!" She had begun to cry, her smudged makeup running down her red face. Bella had the unfortunate luck of being an ugly crier, and tonight was no exception.
"No," Tom stated coolly, pulling away from her. "I have this because of Hermione." And with that, he walked away, tuning out the beginnings of her temper tantrum.
On the walk to Hermione's from the Thai food place that was somehow open on New Years' Eve, Abraxas texted him.
Rich Dumbass: Tom, whatever you said to Bella - it has her in hysterics. Even Rodo Virius can't calm her down.
My Bestie the Future Bestseller: So?
Rich Dumbass: So why'd you leave? Was it because of the fight?
My Bestie the Future Bestseller: No. I'm going to Hermione's apartment with Thai food. She had a night worse than mine.
Rich Dumbass: *heart eyes emoji* ! FINALLY!
Tom made no response, and instead walked a little faster. Before he was even at the door she had opened it, having seen him from her third floor window.
"Don't you have a release party to be hosting?" She leaned against the doorway, floral mug in hand. She was in a giant sweater with her yoga pants, fuzzy socks, and no makeup.
"I thought I might as well spend the evening with someone who appreciates Thai food as much as I do," he said, raising the box. She laughed but ushered him in anyway so he could set the box down.
"I see, you just use me for my love of Thai," she teased.
"No," he tried to assure her, "I came because I wanted to be with you." She half-smiled but her eyes water, and she gave him a tight hug.
"I've just been having a rough night," she mumbled into his jacket.
"He won't be able to touch you again."
"Tom. . ." she started, looking up at him.
"He's gone. You're safe from him now." He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. He had expected her to be upset or maybe even furious. Instead, a look of resolve dawned on her face and she nodded her head.
"Good." She nodded her head again, letting the notion sink in. "Good."
"Let's eat," Tom suggested, but she kept her arms wrapped around him.
"He kept saying he wanted a New Years' kiss, much made me so angry. Because he tried my choice away from me, and the only person I wanted to kiss was-" she hesitated, glancing up at him with big eyes, "-you." He kissed the top of her head and pressed his forehead against hers.
"He will never be able to do that ever again."
"I know." They stood like that for a long time, wrapped around each other with a strange ferocity. "The food's going to get cold," Hermione finally noted, pulling away from him. She moved to the kitchen cabinet to grab a glass for Tom, and he shrugged off his jacket and took off his socks and shoes.
To the unsuspecting stranger, it looked like a normal Friday night for the pair, with eating out of the Thai food cartons, drinking Moscato out of mugs, sitting crossed legged on the sofa, and avidly watching the history channel. The only disclaimer that something was out of the ordinary was that Tom was still in his formal wear, whereas he would normally be wearing corduroys and a tshirt.
They fell asleep before midnight, curled up into each other on the couch. When Tom woke up, his watch read 2 AM - he was officially one year older and - his arm had fallen asleep from where Hermione was sleeping on it. Hearing him stir woke her up, and she glared him at him with sleepy eyes.
"Bed time," she declared. "Why aren't we in bed?"
"We fell asleep," he paused to yawn, "on your couch." Knowing that if she went back to sleep here she would be seriously cranky in the morning, he helped walk her to her bedroom. She stumbled into bed like a child, drowsy and not fully awake. He was walking away, to go back to sleep on the couch, but she tugged him down him the hem of his suit shirt. Taking the hint, he stripped quickly down to his boxers and undershirt and climbed into her bed. She snuggled into him, kissing him on the lips in between a wink of sleep and nestled into his chest.
"Happy New Year," he whispered into the air, and a sleepy smile lit Hermione's face.
Fin.