Chapter Two
When she woke up again, Tom was reading beside a table containing a steaming bowl of soup, some toast, glasses of juice and water and a tray full of potions and pills. Immediately intrigued by the book she tried to decipher the title, but the effort was wasted. So her gaze travelled up Tom's form, and she noted that he was still wearing the same clothes and by now a faint stubble had developed on his face. Travelling further upwards, she saw that the streaks of grey at his temple did nothing to lessen his attractiveness. On the contrary, it gave him a more distinguished air. All in all, she couldn't believe he was well into his forties. Hermione took the time to really look at him and felt the full blast of his appeal work at her nerves. She must have stirred or sighed, as he looked up from his book and looked straight into her eyes, catching her staring.
Embarrassed, Hermione blushed a sweet pink, lowered her eyes to the floor and started fidgeting with her hands, turning away from him. She felt Tom approach and tensed up. When he took hold of her and turned her face to his, she didn't meet his eyes.
"Look at me."
But she couldn't, because just now she felt a strange stirring in her body, a flare-up that seemed familiar. Has she felt this before? Was she attracted to Tom before her illness whatever it was? What would Tom think of her if he knew? Did he already have an inkling? Shocked, her body awakened more. Her lips parted, her eyes opened wide, she blushed a bright red, her heart raced and her stomach ached.
"Look. At. Me." When she finally did, her legs quivered at the look on his face. His eyes, brilliant green, were smoldering at her. His being was focused entirely on her and she could detect a faint crackle of magic in the air. The picture he presented was overwhelming, with his beauty, his power and the somewhat menacing look in his eyes. He took both her hands in his.
"Don't turn your back on me. Don't ever deny what you're feeling and thinking. And don't try to hide anything from me. I can read you like a book, Hermione, and I do not take kindly to being lied to, even by omission. I think you know that from our past together even if you don't remember everything."
"I know. I'm sorry. It's just.. I can't really.. explain.. I'm sorry, Tom"
"What is on your mind, baby? Just say it."
What she wouldn't give for an interruption right now. Where were the healers and nurses, anyway? As far as she could tell, no one has checked up on her besides Tom. This was St. Mungo's, wasn't it?
"Can I talk to my healer? I think I have a few questions about my recovery and I want to know why I'm in here in the first place."
He stepped back and the look on his face shuttered closed. "You're not in the hospital. You're in my home, our home. I don't know what happened to you physically. You were gone for awhile and a week ago you showed up in the gazebo, worse for wear and in a coma. I took you to the guest room, because it's close to mine and it enabled me to keep a better eye on you."
"So you have been taking care of me? And where did I go when I left? Why did I leave?"
He smiled at her and she melted. "You'll never change do you? You'll always be inquisitive. As for your questions, you had a mishap experimenting with a new curse and you disappeared to I don't know where, right in front of my eyes. I thought I had lost you forever." He took her in his arms, "You can't imagine the grief I felt when you disappeared and how relieved I was when you came back."
When he was speaking, she saw actual pain in his eyes so she hugged him tightly around his waist. "I won't leave again. I'm home, Tom. And I'm here to stay. Thank you for taking care of me and I'm sorry for all the worry you felt on my behalf." She glided her hands up his back until they reached his shoulders, subconsciously caressing every inch of him she came across. He stiffened his spine and leaned back to look at her; questioning, piercing. And then he leaned in and touched his lips to hers.
It was an exquisite shock, like nothing she ever felt before. Or had she? Something about the way his lips felt resonated deep within her. As if that part of her recognized the feeling. He was still peppering closemouthed kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other when she relaxed against him and began to kiss him back. He took her upper lip between his and sucked on it, sending tingles to Hermione's lower abdomen. When he rasped his teeth against her lip and bit down, a little shock went to the same place and she gasped. He slipped his tongue inside and massaged her until she was whimpering. His mouth slanted open over hers, sucking on her lips while moving his tongue in circles.
Hermione didn't think about his age, couldn't think even if she wanted to. Because with all his experience, Tom set out to seduce her twenty-year old self and she didn't stand a chance.
"Oh.. oh.. mhhhmm" and she couldn't break away as her body was molded to his. She was feeling lightheaded, needed air badly, but she couldn't bear to stop the kiss. But he knew, and retracted his tongue only to lick her jaw while she sucked in a big gulp of air.
"N..No, wait. More" she whispered, and tried to pull his mouth back to hers. He wouldn't have it and continued on his path to her ear leaving wet traces on her face. When he reached her ear, she moaned. The feelings she felt were indescribable. A blink and he was sucking her neck making his way to her breasts. Her spinning mind screeched to a halt trying to reorganize, and she pulled back.
"You're mine, Hermione." Kiss. "Listen to your body." Suck. "Give in." Lick.
And then he reached the low cut edge of her worn top. "Stop. Please, wait."
He pulled up again, looking in her eyes, and she went on, "We can't do this.. this is wrong. You raised me, you're like a father to me. We can't.. And the age difference"
"You're wrong, I've never been your father. You're father was a worthless animal who left you to rot on the streets. I have always been more. And you've been mine all this time. As a child, a teen and a woman, you've been mine. And age has never meant anything between us. Don't deny this, or me. I love you, want to fuck you, do unspeakable things to you and I dare you to tell me you don't want that too."
She had tears in her eyes, filled with denial and shame. She let her gaze drop to the floor and quickly thought about her options. After a second's deliberation, the food completely forgotten, she grabbed her wand from the table and apparated to her own room at the end of the corridor. Thank God she's slowly but steadily getting her memories back.
Before she fell on her bed she felt a slight pull on her body. She shrugged it off and turned down the blankets. In the other room, satisfied with how his Homenum Revelio turned out, Tom put his wand back in his pocket.
That night Hermione dreamt of Tom picking her up and taking her home, bathing her, cooking for her, reading to her and teaching her about magic. She saw him watching a smaller version of her with indulgence and pride, kissing her, hugging her and giving her compliments when she accomplished another task. She dreamt of sleeping in his bed when she was scared, or when she was sad about her parents, of him telling her not to miss them because she deserved better and hugging her close until they both fell asleep. She saw him kissing her scrapes and bruises when she was a little bit too adventurous in the garden, but most importantly, she saw him love and care for her.
When she woke up, she ran to the bathroom and tossed all her cookies.
