Chapter Two: My Sister


Sorting back-to-school supplies was one of Hermione's favorite things about going back to school. All her supplies were spread out in front of her on her bedroom floor. Hermione was sorting her color-coded folders when her door opened.

Tom was standing in her doorway, snapping a lime-green snap bracelet to his wrist repeatedly.

Hermione looked up at him from the floor. "It's rude to just barge in someone's room without knocking, you know."

Tom just shrugged, and continued snapping the bracelet. "I know. I just don't care."

Hermione sighed. Today was a good day. Today was a happy day. Today was school supply sorting day.

Hermione had meant to ask him what he wanted in a polite tone, but instead said, "Go away."

Tom's snapping stopped and he scowled at her. She was confused when he actually slammed her bedroom door closed. Was that it?

Her door was flung back open. Tom was standing there, holding the doorknob. He said nothing as he slammed the door closed again. Then, he opened it, and slammed it closed again.

Tom continued doing this for about thirty seconds before Hermione finally said something.

"Knock it off, Tom!"

Tom opened the door and calmly said, "No."

He slammed the door closed.

"Stop it!"

He opened the door, and smirked at her.

"No."

He slammed the door.

"Now!"

Open.

"No."

Slam.

Hermione jumped up, and lunged at him when he opened the door again. His wide eyes, and slack mouth were telltale signs that he hadn't been expecting it. Good.

They fell together in the hallway. They were kicking, screaming, and hitting each other. Hermione clawed at his face. Tom pulled at her hair.

The fight hadn't lasted long before Jean ran up the stairs, and pulled them apart.

Hermione felt satisfied when she saw the trickles of blood ooze down Tom's left cheek.

"What is going on here!? Why can't you two get along without trying to kill each other?" her mum asked.

"She attacked me first!" Tom said, and pointed to his bleeding cheek. "See?"

"Hermione?" her mum asked expectantly.

"He…he kept opening and closing my door!" Hermione winced at her own statement, realizing how dumb it sounded out loud.

"So, you attacked him?" Jean asked, bewildered with her daughter's behavior. Hermione cast her face down in shame. Jean closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I hate to do this, Hermione, but you're grounded."

"But…mum!"

"No 'buts'. No checking out books from the library. For a week."

Hermione's jaw dropped. The smug satisfaction on Tom's face was just begging to be smacked off.

"Fine," she said morosely, and went into her room. She closed the door behind her. That's when she noticed the lime-green snap bracelet on the floor. It must have fallen off when they fought.

With the injustice still fresh in her mind, Hermione picked it up, and threw it into her trash bin bitterly.

If she couldn't have her books, then he couldn't have his stupid snap bracelet. She knew he probably wouldn't care, but it was a small consolation.

It was the little things in life.


It had only been two months into the school year before Tom had gotten his first suspension. Oddly enough, her parents weren't upset with him, but with the school. She couldn't blame them, though. Even she thought he had been unfairly suspended.

The principal said that due to the nature of the altercation, he was forced to stay fast to his decision.

An older boy named Caleb Hinckley had come up behind Hermione during recess while she was skipping rope, and shoved her onto the pavement. Her knees and palms were scraped badly enough that it left blood on the tar immediately. She'd cried, and cried, and cried. The boy had laughed cruelly at her pain.

The boy went from laughing to howling in agony in an instant. Hermione wiped away her tears in time to see Tom straddling the boy. He was holding the bigger boy by the front of his uniform, and was driving his fist into his face savagely. Blood painted his knuckles crimson. The boy's head banged back against the pavement with each blow.

Hermione watched in horror as Tom was pried off the boy by two teachers. Once Tom was off Caleb, she heard him growl out, "Don't you ever touch her again." Then, he spat in the boy's face. Before Tom was lugged off, they'd looked at each other. It had only been for a moment, but she'd seen all she needed to see - that rage in his eyes. Tom was taken to the principal's office, while she was brought to the school nurse. Caleb had been rushed to the emergency room.

Her parents had kept them both home on Tom's suspension day, and took them to a museum in London. They weren't going to punish Tom for defending Hermione.

And, honestly, she couldn't blame them.

Hermione stood next to Tom while they looked at the oil painting on the wall, and smiled. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye with a raised brow, and looked back up at the painting without saying a word.

Maybe having a brother wasn't so bad.


Hermione was beyond ecstatic when her parents told her and Tom that they would allow them to go trick-or-treating by themselves this year – as long as they stayed in their own neighborhood, of course.

She bounded down the stairs after she had put the finishing touches on her costume. She was dressed head to toe in black, and was wearing a cat-ear headband she'd had sitting in her drawer.

Jean walked into the foyer, and smiled at her daughter. "Oh, Hermione! You look so adorable! Oh, wait! I have just the thing," she said, and then began digging through her purse sitting on the side table. Jean pulled out a stick of eyeliner, and walked over to Hermione.

"You won't be a very good cat if you don't have proper whiskers," her mum said with a half-smile. Hermione tried to protest when she noticed Tom leaning up against the doorframe, watching them in amusement; but her mum just batted Hermione's hands away.

Hermione's eyes stared at the top button of her mum's blouse and she allowed the coolness of the eyeliner to slide across her cheeks. She'd noticed that Tom wasn't even dressed up. Now, she felt like a silly, little child and embarrassed beyond reason.

She heard Tom chuckle quietly from the doorway while Jean drew a little, black oval on her nose. Her eyes flicked over to him and she frowned. Was he laughing at her?

"What are you laughing at? Where's your costume? Aren't you dressing up?" Hermione asked as her mum finished drawing on her face.

Tom raised an eyebrow and scoffed, "Everyone knows you don't need to dress up to get candy."

"No, Tom. Hermione's right. I'm sure we can throw something together quickly. Let me think, let me think," Jean trailed off down the hall and things could be heard falling in the closet.

Hermione knew she was grinning stupidly at Tom's sour face but she couldn't be bothered to care. If she had to dress up, then so did he.

"Come on, Tom. It'll be fun," Hermione teased.

Tom eyed her in distaste, and crossed his arms. "She better not make me look ridiculous like you."

Hermione's mouth hung open from his insult, but she quickly snapped it shut again when she heard her mum coming back down the hall. She was carrying a faded red bandana, and an old, leather jacket.

"I think we can turn you into a pirate with these, Tom," Jean smiled at him. Tom grumbled, and shifted his weight under Jean's expectant look. "Listen, it's not going to be that bad. You could honestly get away with just wearing the bandana. Come here, let's put it on."

Jean tied the bandana over a frowning Tom's head, and knotted it at the nape of his neck. Hermione couldn't help but giggle at him. He looked like a grumpy pirate. She covered her mouth to stifle another giggle bubbling up from her throat. His eyes snapped to her, and his frown got deeper. She really didn't care.

"There! Perfect. Oh, wipe that look of your face. You're going to live, Tom. Just think of all the candy you'll get," Jean said with a wink. Tom's lower lip jut out a little further as he sulked.

Before Tom had more time to sulk, the doorbell rang. Jean was at attention, and grabbed the treat bowl. Hermione was only slightly embarrassed that her house was the only house in the entire neighborhood that handed out pencils and toothbrushes on Halloween.

Jean ushered them both out the door after the first trick-or-treaters left with their sweaters, trick-or-treating bags, and a quick go-over of the rules to follow.

"Stay together. Don't talk to strangers. Don't go into anyone's house. Stay in our neighborhood. Don't eat your candy until we check it," Jean recited.

Hermione was growing impatient and she could tell Tom was, too. "We know, mum. Can we go now?"

Jean looked between the two of them like she was contemplating something. "Tom, it's your job to protect your sister, alright?"

Hermione frowned, and was about to tell her mum, in the politest way possible, that she didn't need him to protect her, and that they weren't technically siblings; but, before she could open her mouth, Tom had said, "Don't worry. I will."

"Good," Jean smiled at them. "Alright, go on, you two. Make sure you're back here by 8:30! Set the alarm on your watch, Hermione."

"I will! Bye, mum!" Hermione said, and went to leave, but her mum grabbed them both in a one-sided bear hug. She felt Tom tense up beside her.

"I love you. Both of you. Go, have fun," Jean said with a smile, but her eyes were watery.

Before Hermione had gotten to ask her what was wrong, Tom had grabbed her hand, and pulled her out the door. He dragged her halfway down the block before she was finally able to pry her hand away.

"We're passing by all the houses, Tom," Hermione stated.

Tom ignored her. He tore the bandana off his head and shoved it into his back pocket. He reached for her hand again and said, "Come on. This way."

Tom managed to drag Hermione past two more perfectly lit up and decorated houses before she wrenched her hand away again. "Where are you going? You keep passing the houses! Are you sure you know how this works?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Of course, I know how this works. Why are you always so stupid?" he snapped, then grinned mischievously at her. "We're going to the best house first. Someone at school told me that they hand out full-sized Double Decker bars."

"Full-sized Double Decker bars?" Hermione asked skeptically. "Are you sure?"

At this, Tom's mouth curled up again. "You'll see. Don't you trust me?" he asked, his hand outstretched, waiting for her.

Hermione felt hesitant as she looked at his hand. Did she trust him? Tom wasn't always nice to her; but, then again, what brothers were? Although, he did always keep a good eye on her – she'd noticed. Whenever they played together, he was always nearby. Whenever they were at school, he always kept glancing at her during lunch, or recess. Whenever they were at home, he was always right with her. Some of the time they got along alright, but other times…well, not so much. Her dad had said they were too alike for their own good. Hermione didn't say it out loud, but she disagreed with her dad. Her and Tom were nothing alike.

Tom raised his eyebrows expectantly, and outstretched his fingers even further. She stared at his hand; it was the same one that had pummeled Caleb Hinckley's face after the boy had shoved her down. The same hand that had protected her. Hermione swallowed, and placed her hand in his.

Tom's face grew arrogantly triumphant. "Come on," he said excitedly. "I know a short cut."

Tom gripped her hand as he led them in between houses, and through their neighbor's shrubberies. Hermione protested that they shouldn't be slinking around in the yards at night, but Tom hushed her up quickly. "If you keep complaining, you're going to get us caught," he'd said quietly. Hermione didn't want to get caught. Her parents would never allow her to go trick-or-treating without them again; so, she listened to Tom and kept quiet.

After weaving in and out of various alleys, driveways, and bushes – they'd finally come to a stop behind a bush. Tom pulled her down into the wet grass abruptly.

"Hey! Watch what you're-" Hermione started, but Tom put a finger up to his mouth. Hermione clamped her mouth shut. She watched with wide eyes as Tom slowly lifted himself to peer over the bush. That's when she heard the sound of groups of children laughing, of children chorusing 'trick-or-treat', and of the elderly commenting on how cute or scary a costume was.

That should be us right now, Hermione thought bitterly. She looked at her watch. It was already five minutes until eight and they hadn't even stopped by a single house yet. If this house Tom wanted to go to wasn't handing out full-sized Double Decker chocolate bars, she was going to be very cross with him.

"Oi! Caleb! Let's go up to this house!" came an unfamiliar voice, but the voice that followed it was familiar.

"Bloody Hell! Slow down. You know I can't walk fast right now," said the familiar voice.

Hermione peered through the bushes. Her eyes went wide when she saw Caleb Hinckley shuffling up the sidewalk toward the house they were hiding by. One of his arms was carrying his full candy bag and the other was tied to his chest in a sling. She had heard that Tom had fractured Caleb's collarbone in the fight last week, but she hadn't seen the proof of it yet. His face was covered in face paint, but she knew there were fading cuts and bruises underneath it all. A strong emotion inside Hermione swelled up, but she didn't know what it was. It wasn't a bad emotion, but it wasn't necessarily a good one, either.

"Tom, what are we-" she said, but he cut her off by holding his hand over her mouth. She glared at him, and felt the sudden urge to bite his palm, but refrained. Lucky him. Tom wasn't even looking at her. The object of his full attention was Caleb. Hermione didn't like the anxiety brewing in her belly.

Caleb and his friend walked by the bush they were hiding behind, but didn't see them in the dark. They were about halfway up the driveway when Caleb dropped to the ground, and started convulsing violently.

"Caleb? Caleb!" his friend yelled, not knowing what to do. He panicked, and ran back out into the road. His voice sounded further away. "Help! Help! There's something wrong with my friend!"

Hermione ripped Tom's hand from her mouth, ran over to Caleb, and dropped to her knees beside him. He'd stopped shaking, but now he was unconscious.

"I think he had a seizure!" she exclaimed. "Someone needs to call an ambulance!"

Tom didn't say anything in return, so she looked up at him. He had picked up the candy bag Caleb had dropped, and was rifling through it.

"Tom! This is no time to be going through his candy. This is serious."

The corner of his mouth twitched up when he looked at her. There, in his hand, was a full-sized Double Decker chocolate bar. "Told you so," he said triumphantly.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "We are not stealing his candy."

"Finders keepers, losers weepers," Tom said as he casually kicked Caleb's foot, and grinned.

Both of their heads turned when they heard the sound of footsteps running toward the driveway. Tom hauled Hermione up by her arm and said, "Run."

"What? I'm not-"

"Now," he ordered, and pulled her along with him. Hermione's heartbeat thud, thud, thudded from running at full speed back through the shrubberies, through the backyards, and in between the houses. Her chest felt like it was on fire by the time they reached their street.

By the time they reached their driveway, Hermione had finally caught her breath enough to say, "We shouldn't have just left him there."

Tom scoffed. "He was fine. People were coming to help him. Why do you care about him, anyway?"

"I don't like him in the least, but we shouldn't have taken his candy. It's wrong."

Tom stopped walking, and stared at her incredulously. "No, what he did was wrong. He needed to be punished."

Hermione tensed up at the severity of his tone. "What do you mean? You mean when he tripped me last week, right? You're punishing him by taking his candy?"

At this, Tom gave her a slow smile. It looked like he was smiling at a secret joke. "Yeah. Sure." The way he smiled at her told her something completely different.

Hermione jumped when her wristwatch started beeping. Tom stared at her wrist. Her jaw dropped. "Great. That's just great! It's time to go home and we didn't go to a single house, Tom!" she said, waving her empty bag in front of Tom's face as proof. He snatched it from her, and poured the candy from Caleb's bag into hers.

"Hey!"

Tom rolled his eyes at her, and had begun walking up their driveway. Hermione stomped behind him, thoroughly annoyed. Right when they reached the front door, it swung open for them. Hugo and Jean were waiting for them.

"Right on time," Jean smiled at them. "How was trick-or-treating? Did you two have fun?"

Before Hermione got a chance to tell them all about how their night really went, and about how Tom kept them from going to a single house, he said, "Oh, we had lots of fun. Look at how much candy we got!" Tom held Hermione's candy bag filled with Caleb's candy up for them to see.

"Oh, wow! But where's your bag, Tom? Did you lose it?" Hugo asked once everyone was inside. Once again, Tom had beaten her to it.

"No. Hermione said we should just share our candy, instead of getting double the amount. Something about not wanting to get cavities," Tom lied smoothly.

Her parents beamed at their daughter, and commented how very proud they were of her for making good choices when it came to their dental health. Her face flushed.

Hermione stared at the back of Tom's head. Oh, he was good. She didn't know whether to be upset that he was lying to her parents, or impressed that he was getting away with it. He made it nearly impossible to tell her parents the truth. His lies were so believable, that it made her truths seem farfetched.

Tom had made sure to make it completely impossible to tell her parents what had really happened. He did so by thrusting the bag of candy into her hands before she could object.

"Here, Hermione. I want you to have it," he said.

Her parents gushed. Hermione smiled sweetly. Two could play at this game.

"But, Tom," she said thoughtfully. "You deserve candy, too. You worked so hard for it."

Tom's eyes tightened on her, but his smile remained the same. "No, I insist you take it, Hermione. Consider it your…reward."

At this, Hermione faltered. "Reward? For what?"

Tom stepped toward her, and wrapped his arms around her. She went rigid in his embrace, and held the candy bag limply at her side. He leaned close into her ear and said, "For being such a good sister."

"Oh, Tom. That is so sweet of you to say!" she heard her mum say happily.

Tom squeezed her once before letting go. Her mum thought it sounded sweet, but Hermione heard something else entirely. What is was, she did not know.

Her parents told them to go upstairs, and get ready for bed while they checked their candy. They both went into their rooms to change into their pajamas. Once Hermione was finished, she made her way to the bathroom they shared to brush her teeth.

Hermione looked at her reflection. She realized she was still wearing her cat-ear headband; so, she took it off, and set it on the counter. She was halfway through with brushing her teeth when Tom walked in. They said nothing to each other as he squeezed the toothpaste onto his brush.

Hermione spit the spearmint foam from her mouth and said, "I know you really wanted that candy; so, why did you give it to me?"

Tom looked at her reflection in the mirror, and continued brushing for a few seconds, then spit. "I don't want the candy."

Her eyes narrowed at his reflection in the mirror. "Why?"

Tom slowed his brushing and looked down at the counter, as if he was contemplating something. Then, he pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth. The corner of his lips curled up and his eyes leveled on hers. "Because, I already got what I wanted."

She frowned slightly. "And what would that be?"

Hermione watched as Tom swished water around his mouth, and spit it into the sink. He washed his toothbrush off, and put it away. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and grinned at her in the mirror. "My treat," he said, and walked out of the bathroom.

Hermione froze. His treat? He hadn't gotten anything. Not a single thing. She glanced at the water faucet, and realized he had left it on. She pushed the handle down.

His treat? She put her toothbrush away, turned off the light, and walked to her bedroom.

His treat? The comforters felt cool against her bare legs as she slid into bed. She rolled over onto her side with her eyes closed, thinking.

His treat? The material of her stuffed bear her gran had gotten her felt smooth against her fingers. What had he received?

His treat? She could remember seeing the look on Tom's face before Caleb walked by. He hadn't been looking at her. He had been looking at Caleb. Tom had gone straight to that exact spot, and waited.

Hermione's eyes shot open. Had…had Tom known where Caleb was going to be? No. There was no way that was possible. Right?

Tom had said he didn't want the candy, because he had already gotten what he wanted.

That's when Hermione knew what Tom had meant.

The punishment. Tom had gotten what he'd wanted, because Caleb had been punished. Right?

Hermione recalled an overheard conversation between her parents some time back - something about Tom going to some sort of...therapy. It was always on Tuesday afternoons when her mum took him. Hermione always helped Helen, the receptionist at the dental clinic, on those afternoons until her father was done. She remembered her mum saying that she didn't think Tom needed to go to therapy anymore, but his social worker had insisted that it was important. She didn't know much about therapy, but she knew it was to help people.

His treat, his treat, his treat.

Maybe the social worker was right; maybe Tom just needed some help.

Hermione hadn't slept well that night. Her dreams turned into nightmares; they were the color of charcoal, and the sound of white noise.


It was the most wonderful time of the year; that's what the Christmas carolers sang in the most convincing cheer, anyway. Their cheer was infectious – infectious like the common flu, more like; it left you with a dull headache, and feeling slightly nauseous to your stomach.

Hermione wanted to feel cheerful; and she did, to an extent. It was Tom's wrapped gift to her sitting underneath the tree that was causing apprehension and anticipation to bubble and fester in the lining of her stomach. His sly smirk whenever he caught her eyes didn't make her feel any better about it.

Tom had taken a seat right next to Hermione on the couch in the living room, and was carefully eating one of the mince pies that her mum had baked. Her dad was sifting through the presents, then he handed everyone one of their gifts to open. Hermione's heart sped up when her father handed her the gift from Tom. It wasn't very large, and easily fit on her lap. She wanted to know what it was, but she didn't at the same time.

"Go ahead and open yours first, dear," her father had told her mum. Jean smiled at him, and opened her gift. It was a red cashmere scarf.

She gushed for a few seconds before turning to Tom. "Your turn, Tom."

Tom set his mince pie down on a plate, and turned his gift over curiously. He looked at Hermione. It was her gift to him. She swallowed nervously, unsure of how he was going to react to it. She thought it was a good gift, but one could never be too sure with Tom. He had so much personality, yet none at the same time.

He opened it, and said nothing for several seconds. His eyes stared at the book sitting in his lap. The Iliad was printed in gold letters across the brown cover.

Hermione began to fidget when he didn't say or do anything. She said, "It's okay if you don't like it. I got it at the book store on Fifth Street, so you can exchange it if you-"

"No, I…I like it," he said quietly. His dark eyes lifted to look into hers. "Now, open yours."

She didn't allow herself to be bothered when she followed his command. She carefully unwrapped the paper from the gift, which revealed a book about…she turned to look at Tom, shocked.

"Butterflies?" she asked suspiciously.

The corner of Tom's mouth twitched. "What? I thought you loved butterflies, Hermione."

Hermione went to open her mouth to tell him that his joke wasn't funny, but she heard her mum clear her throat. She smiled sweetly at him and said, "Yes, I do love butterflies. Thank you so much, Tom. It's a very nice gift. You're so thoughtful. I can't wait to read it."

Hermione wished terribly that the smug satisfaction would be wiped clean from his face. "I'm glad you like it."

The rest of Christmas day was as wonderful as it could get. There was a mess of wrapping paper and ribbons scattered throughout the living room. The house smelled of roast, and of potatoes, and of sage. There was the sound of her mum singing along to Christmas carols on the radio in the kitchen. The air tasted of peppermint and hot chocolate. She got to talk to her gran on the phone. Even Tom talked to her for a few minutes, although they hadn't met yet. She told them she was going to bring them a special treat when she came to visit. Hermione felt cheerful.

Bedtime had come far too soon. As she went to shake her comforter out on her bed to straighten it out, she heard a loud thud on the floor. She looked down, and noticed it was the book that Tom had given her. Hermione tilted her head to the side in confusion, because she didn't remember putting the book on her bed. When she picked it up, a piece of paper fell out, and landed on the floor.

Hermione set the book back on her bed, and picked up the paper. After she turned it over, her eyebrows shot up underneath her bangs.

There, on the other side of the paper, was a crude crayon drawing. It looked like it was…the two of them standing next to each other, holding hands. Hermione's forehead creased. It was really quite an awful drawing, but at least he tried. Her eyes traveled to the words underneath the drawing and her breath caught in her throat. The words 'My sister' had been written in smudged black crayon. He had made sure to emphasize the 'my' by underlining it three times. It had looked like he had pressed the crayon exceedingly hard.

Hermione tried to swallow the saliva that wasn't in her mouth. If any other foster brother had drawn this for her, she might have thought it was sweet, or endearing - but not with Tom.

Never with Tom.


A/N: The very first thing I want to say is - holy bollocks. Over 100 follows on the very first day? For just one chapter? I'm blown away. Floored. Dumbfounded, actually. I never thought Fostering a Nightmare would receive this much attention this early on, but I'm glad it has. I've fallen in love with writing this story, and I hope that you love it, too. Thank you to Radiant Innocence for being my cute, lil' beta fish and inspiration machine. If you love Tomione, go read her story "Darkened Desire". She's working on updating that story here soon.

Enjoy.