A/N: Words cannot describe how much I love my wonderful, beautiful readers! Your show of support has left me tingling with excitement and inspiration to write! I want to thank you all with another update. From here on out I'll try to stick to a weekly posting schedule. As always, thank you for following along and sharing your thoughts, reading your reviews makes me write like a mad woman :)
Saturday May 2, 1992
Hermione rubbed absently at her shin as she sat beneath the budding shade of a large birch tree, indulging in her favorite past time. She turned the page but before she could begin reading a small projectile hit the side of her head.
She instinctively cringed away, glancing about and quickly spotting the culprits. Billy and his gang of idiots, his first mate Amy at the helm. They erupted into laughter as she picked up the thrown acorn and tossed it aside with a roll of her eyes.
She reopened her book with a sigh, already knowing her oasis was ruined now that the they had spotted her. They wouldn't let up unless Tom arrived, which was a toss up. He was so hot and cold with her sometimes she preferred his absence.
Except in moments like these, she craved his company. No one could clear a crowd like he could.
"Hey Herman!" Billy shouted, Amy cackling behind him. "Head's up! I get thirty points if I can land it in the bird's nest on your head!"
Hermione pursed her lips and refused to look up. She saw the incoming acorn out of her peripheral and leaned back, watching it fly by her face. She glared down at her book, trying to ignore them but finding it frustratingly impossible.
"Wide shot!"
"Oi! Let me try!"
"We'll both throw!"
"No idiot, you have shit aim, you'll just mess up my turn!"
"Shut up you wanker, just throw the damn thing already!"
She held her breath and watched one of the boys draw his arm back and then swing it forward on release. She watched in frozen horror as an acorn came darting right at her forehead, her brain processing the moment in slow motion. She cringed, eyes closing, braced for impact.
That never came.
The roarous laughter cut off abruptly. She opened her eyes, dumbfounded by the sudden silence.
There was a fist clenched an inch in front of her face. She blinked, releasing a breath and following the hand to a bony wrist, up a pale arm with jagged scars along the bicep peeking out beneath a sleeve, past a sharp jawline and finally met Tom's glacial stare. She felt her spine go rigid. He looked incensed.
His fingers relaxed and the acorn fell dead to the ground. She swallowed.
He slowly released her from his gaze as he turned his focus to the group across the yard.
They promptly scattered in different directions, though Billy threw a scathing look over his shoulder as he sauntered away, Amy tossing her head back with one last shrill laugh that sounded too nervous to be insulting.
"What was all that about?" He asked, still facing away and brushing his palm against his torn jeans.
Hermione felt heat rise to her cheeks, as tended to happen in his presence regardless of the conversation. She always managed to feel foolish next to him.
"Nothing I couldn't handle."
"I can see that."
She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. He didn't like it when she did that, at least not to him. He turned around to pin her beneath his all consuming stare. She couldn't help but fidget.
"Because it looks to me like you were sitting there letting those idiots pelt you with acorns."
She looked down and snapped her book shut, biting her tongue.
"Hermione."
She rose to her feet, brushing dirt and grass off her corduroy skirt.
"Hermione. Don't ignore me."
She froze, feeling the warning in his voice spread across her skin like an electric current. She turned around to face him, eyes averted down.
"Look at me."
She sighed and did as commanded, feeling suddenly drained of all fight.
"What's the matter with you? You have the nerve to defy me but you can't stand up to Billy?"
"It wasn't just Billy."
"Billy is their leader. You cut off the head of the snake and the body dies."
She swallowed. Sometimes she forgot he was only two years older. He made her feel weak and pathetic, stupid and useless, a pale comparison to everything he exuded.
"I'm not like you, Tom. I can't clear a room just by entering it."
He shook his head and looked away, dismissing her. She wilted, trying to keep her shoulders back and tears at bay until she was alone under her quilt. This interaction with Tom was far more damaging to her psyche than anything Billy or Amy could possibly subject her to. She didn't care about their opinions.
She clenched her hands into fists to prevent from rubbing at her eyes. If she cried in front of him it was over. Their uneasy association would officially end and he'd go back to treating her with the same hostility he did all others.
He noticed the movement, of course he did. A dark brow rose, his eyes taking on a challenging look that stabbed at her further. She wasn't trying to pick a fight with him! Did he think she was that stupid? She was just trying to maintain her composure, the bloody git.
She felt anger boil within her gut, bubbling out through her veins. She was so tired of this. So tired of this place, these cruel children, and some days Tom was the worst thing of all. Condescending, patronizing, unnecessarily judgemental and cruel. In a lot of ways he was meaner than Billy and his gang, subjecting her to more scrutiny than anyone else.
She felt the heat climbing up her neck, her throat burning with fire, she opened her mouth and expelled smoke.
"What did I ever do to you, Tom?!" She shouted, her stance going rigid.
He blinked, taken aback by her sudden switch.
"I never asked for your help, so don't make me feel like a fool for offering it! If you think I'm pathetic like all the others then just leave me alone!"
His eyes flashed, something dark taking root at their center and causing the pupils to expand, swallowing the grey. She was shaking with pent up emotion, everything she'd been burying beneath the surface for the last eighteen months spilling over, breaking free, ripping her to shreds from within.
She felt the tears brimming now and started to march past him, refusing to let him see his effect on her. She wouldn't give him that final satisfaction.
His hand shot out and caught her wrist, squeezing it so painfully she cried out and pulled back. He merely yanked her closer, she tripped over her feet and fell into him, her face burning red with indignation and embarrassment.
"I'm not a ragdoll, Tom!"
"Shut up."
Her eyes bulged in their sockets. The nerve of this boy! She'd seen him treat others like they were beneath him but it was painful to realize he obviously thought as little of her.
"Let me go!"
He shook his head again, not in refusal but in obvious disbelief.
"Christ, maybe Amy's right, you are crazy."
She reeled back, as far from him as she could get with her wrist still captive by his iron grip.
"How dare you! Take it back!"
He blinked, then stared at her for a heavy beat before lifting one side of his mouth in an obvious smirk that only served to rile her further.
"Make me."
She scoffed loudly, indelicately, and it felt wonderful to throw her manners to the wind.
"I don't care how scary you are Tom, I will still punch you, I swear it. I don't care what awful thing you do to me after, it will be well worth it!"
She expected murder to flash across his face, as it did when others attempted to stand their ground against him, always unsuccessfully. So when he burst out laughing it shocked her so completely she went limp against him, the sound effectively snuffing out the raging inferno in her chest.
She stared at him in disbelief. She realized she'd never heard him laugh, not once in the eighteen months she'd been here. The sound was… nice. Melodic, fine tuned, like everything else about him. His eyes held a light that was mesmerizing, she couldn't look away.
She realized belatedly that he'd released her wrist but still stood flush against her. She swallowed and stepped back two paces, her cheeks burning anew. His laugh fell away, she already missed the sound, but his amused expression remained.
"You have the nerve to threaten me but you can't stand up to Billy Stubbs?"
Hermione blinked.
He watched her in silence for several moments before shaking his head.
"They pick on you because they're weak, they need to destroy things to make themselves feel strong. You are strong, stronger than most. But if you continue to let them torment you you'll eventually break."
She inhaled sharply, his unusually candid words cutting off her airway.
"If you want to continue this way, then by all means do so. I'll leave you be. But if you want to learn to stand up for yourself, I can teach you."
Her heart thud painfully against her ribcage. Her skin buzzed. Billy and Amy's laughing faces flashed in her mind's eyes, so vivid she could practically hear their cruel jests. Still, she felt apprehensive.
"Why would you do that?"
His jaw ticked. "That's for me to know. And the offer is only good for this moment. Decide quickly."
She suppressed a sigh, annoyed that he'd once more reverted to his usual defensive self. But his eyes held a new depth she was starting to recognize the more they interacted. He seemed… guarded. She realized with a jolt he was prepared for her rejection, braced for impact as she was with the acorn. He was expecting her to refuse his offer and walk away. A part of her wanted to, just to spite him, just to know what it felt like to spite someone.
But his draw upon her was more powerful than any of those baser urges. He exuded power and strength, even at this tender age, something that all the other children recognized and bowed to. She wanted that.
"Okay. Teach me."
Her heart skipped a beat as his face transformed, eyes alight above his cruel grin.
Sunday July 10, 2005
Hermione was having a strange day.
After getting off the phone with Padma she'd walked into her living room like a zombie, collapsing lifeless on the couch. Her vertigo was fading but her mind still felt clouded and slow. She rubbed absently at her neck, her eyes slitting.
That son of a bitch injected me. What the hell did he put in me? Propofol? Pentobarbital? I could have stopped breathing in my sleep! Was he trying to murder me? Am I supposed to be dead right now?
She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes.
Breathe, just breathe…
Think, Hermione, you can think you're way out of anything.
You have a headache, dehydration? Maybe it was sodium thiopental?
What the hell is he doing walking around a party with that kind of shit in his pockets?
Her eyes snapped open.
He wasn't walking around the party though, was he? He was standing there, watching. Me. And then he was in that room, with that body… and he drugged me.
She felt suddenly nauseous.
Tom killed him.
Her heart stuttered painfully, her body accepting the truth before her mind.
But was he trying to kill me also? Why not just slit my throat and leave me there? Why bring me back here?
Suddenly his words came back to her, deathly sweet and haunting.
"I told you I'd find you…"
She rushed to her kitchen and gagged into the sink, dry heaving for a few moments until she was gasping for breath, silently crying as she slid against the cabinets to the floor.
What do I do?
You know what to do! You witnessed the aftermath of a homicide! You have to call the police!
But, I'm not positive of what I saw…
Of course you are! Why else would Tom be there? Why else would he drug you?
Maybe there's another explanation, maybe Tom discovered the body moments before I did…
Do you really believe that?
Why did he bring me back here?
You mean why did he leave you again…
She cried out, shaking her head and willing her mind to shut up. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think.
Take it slow… break it down… piece by piece… what's step one, Hermione?
I can't…
You can, you will, you must.
Her eyes snapped open.
Step one is getting off the floor. Step two is scrubbing your skin raw until the stench of death is gone. Step three is getting out of this apartment. Far, far from this apartment.
Good girl. Now stand up.
She inhaled sharply, wiping absently at her tear trekked face and pulling herself up against the counter.
Step one complete. See? Piece of cake.
Squaring her shoulders, she took a determined step towards her bathroom.
Tom watched the scene playing out on his computer screen, his attention rapt.
He watched Hermione crumble and break, wilting like a flower, folding in on herself. He watched her cry and scream and rant. Then he watched her fall still and silent, no doubt having an internal conversation that looked quite maddening. Her expression morphed and changed at least a dozen times in as many minutes. He didn't blink, unwilling to miss a thing.
He'd been without her for so long, he wouldn't spare a moment of her now.
He watched with supreme pride as she slowly pulled herself up, bracing her weight against the countertop and catching her breath. As she slowly made her way to the bathroom and out of sight of his camera he released a slow, steady breath, his lips curling up.
"That's my girl."
Harry ran a hand through his wild mane and turned the corner into Sirius's office. He knocked against the open door.
Sirius glanced up, sighing and nodding for Harry to enter.
"Close the door."
Harry averted his eyes down as he shut it.
"The witness all squared away?"
"She's in route to Mungo's. They'll start her on intravenous detox, I'll head over to complete our interview this evening, give her some time to rest."
Sirius tipped his head in acknowledgement, setting aside whatever he was working on and crossing his alarms slowly.
"Listen, about earlier-"
"About the yelling match you had with our boss or about our conversation where you agreed to avoid yelling matches with our boss?"
Harry closed his eyes and sighed.
"Avoid is really the key word there-"
"Shut your smart mouth and sit down."
Harry opened his eyes and reluctantly fell into the chair across the desk.
"What the hell is going on in that head of yours, kid? Sometimes I wonder if you really do see the world through a different lense. In what reality did you think it appropriate to go rounds with Crouch?"
"That wasn't my intent! I just asked him for-"
"Well there you go, you shouldn't be asking him for anything, you should have come to me first!"
"I tried! You weren't here and the witness was in serious need of immediate medical evacuation!"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, what a lovely soap opera we have playing out, eh? Immediate medical evacuation? Her leg didn't get blown off, she was flying high on tranquilizers. A tall glass of water and good night's rest is all she needed."
"Maybe so, but can you guarantee that we have that much time with her? What were we supposed to do, move a cot into the holding room? You really think Draco Malfoy would let us keep her as long as it took for that shit to clear out of her system naturally?"
"Harry, none of that has anything to do with the fact that you once again went over my head to Crouch, and then engaged in a bloody row that Dumbledore walked in on! Can you really not see the problem here?"
"I didn't do anything wrong! Why am I being punished for trying to pursue this witness to the best of our abilities? Am I the only one trying to solve this case?"
"Don't you dare-"
"Seriously! If you spent half as much time worrying about this case as you do about pleasing the higher ups we'd have the killer in custody!"
Sirius slammed his fist down on the desk, his expression furious. Harry jumped in his chair, his mouth snapping shut but his eyes still flashing.
"That's enough!"
Harry swallowed, the adrenaline fading and leaving him feeling bereft and foolish.
"I didn't-"
"I said that's enough," Sirius said more calmly, flattening his palm against the wood. "I know you have your opinions. I know you're passionate and don't like hearing the word no. And I know you hate office politics, all the bureaucratic red tape we have to navigate through when it comes to certain investigations. I don't like it either. But that's the reality of our job, and it isn't changing anytime soon. If you really want to work with this witness and help solve this case you're going to have to curb your urges. I'm dead serious, Harry. I can only shield you from so much now that you're an Officer. If you don't play by their rules they'll chuck you like yesterday's garbage, no matter the solved cases to your name."
Harry was breathing deeply, willing his anger to abate. He knew he had a short fuse and he'd been that way since youth, since losing his parents. Being an Officer meant everything to Harry, his career meant validation, made up for every loss of the past. He couldn't imagine having that taken away.
"I-" he stopped short, clearing his throat and shifting in his chair. "I'm sorry."
"I've been hearing that word a lot from you lately."
Harry looked down. "I… I just can't stand the bullshit. I don't know how you put up with it. It's like swallowing poison and thanking them for the pleasure."
Sirius leaned back into his chair, shoulders relaxing. "That's a rather apt description. And quite poetic, didn't know you had it in you."
Harry sighed. "I know I keep apologizing, but I really am trying to keep my nose clean. I just want to investigate, no games, no ass kissing. Why can't it just be about the work?"
Sirius's expression softened. "You have heart. Some days I think you have too much of it. But then I look in your eyes and I see Lily staring back at me, and I remember where you get it from. With the parents you had you never stood a chance, kid. You've got fire and passion in your blood, the inability to look the other way when there's some injustice being done. Sometimes I just think you look a little too hard for trouble. Trust me when I say enough of it will find you, you don't have to go searching for problems to solve."
Harry tipped his head back and exhaled slowly, turning his eyes forward in surrender.
"I know I sound like a broken record, but I promise, no more mistakes."
Sirius smirked. "At least not for today."
Harry nodded. "At least not for today."
Hermione left Padma's apartment still in a daze.
The moment she entered the three girls inside had all but pounced on her for information. Hermione was drained by the time she finished telling her recount of events of the night.
All fabricated.
She wasn't sure what force was compelling her to keep quiet about what she'd seen, what she'd experienced. She knew she should have dialed 999 immediately upon waking up, or at the very least after taking the morning to sort her thoughts.
But then again, her thoughts were hardly sorted. She still felt half asleep, trapped in a waking nightmare. She knew she was dreaming, but couldn't force herself to wake up. As she crossed the street she pondered stepping out in front of a car, just to test her theory. Injuring herself was an abstract thought, but she indulged in several dark fantasies to distract herself as she trekked to the University campus.
I could throw myself on the tracks at the station, surely that would jolt me awake. Or perhaps I'll throw myself from my balcony. No, I could jump from the library window, do the windows on the third floor open?
When she wasn't engaged in morbid thoughts she was glancing about like a criminal, watching those around her and jumping at any sudden movement in her direction.
Why is that man staring at me? What's he got in his hand? Is that a knife? Oh, it's a coffee cup.
She took a deep breath and shook her head. She glanced up and spotted one of the chemistry department buildings up ahead. She felt relief wash over her. She was back someplace familiar. She was home.
Most of the facilities were closed to students on the weekend but she had special access as a grad student who taught tutoring sessions during the summer. It was only two days a week but it was extra cash in her pocket and she got to work in the lab doing what she loved. It really was a fabulous set up. And right now she was thankful for her keycard access, allowing her to slip into the building, hearing the heavy automated lock slide in place behind her.
She let out a breath, shoulders instantly relaxing and her hurried gait slowing as she walked down the hall. She'd be safe here.
Unless Tom had a keycard.
Saturday March 11, 1995
"What time is it?"
"Two minutes later than the last time you asked."
"Tom, I don't want to miss curfew! Cole will have me scrubbing toilets every night this week again."
"We won't be late, now be quiet. It'll be over faster if you stop annoying me."
She groaned.
"How much further?"
He stopped and spun around so abruptly she crashed into him, gasping and clutching his coat to catch her balance. His hands reached out to steady her, most likely on reflex since his eyes held murder.
"What did I just say?" he hissed, his mint and menthol breath blowing the loose strands of her hair away from her face.
"I'm sorry, I just-"
"And what did I say about apologizing all the bloody time? It shows weakness."
She sighed, looking away. There was never any winning with him.
"Now keep your mouth shut and follow me. When we get there you do exactly as I tell you. Nothing more, nothing less, do you understand?"
She stared up at him with petulant eyes.
"Do you understand, Hermione?"
"I thought you told me to keep my mouth shut."
Danger flashed in his eyes, taking on a feral gleam. Her heart lurched in her chest but not in fear. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, her damning pale complexion always betraying her inner most thoughts. He spotted the flush spreading up her neck and rolled his eyes, something that was fine for him to do but not for her.
"Bloody brat. Come on."
He grabbed a hold of her wrist and started his brisk walk through the alley, half dragging her as she jogged to keep up with his long legs. She was surprised she didn't have permanent indentations in her flesh by now after so many years of Tom pulling her around in such a manner. God forbid he be seen holding her hand, like a proper gentleman. No, he had to manacle her wrist like she was his captive, bound to escape the moment he lost contact.
As if she could ever escape him, even if she wanted to.
She wanted to ask him where they were going, how much further, what they were looking for. But she knew her questions would float out into the open air and dissipate into nothingness. Tom would only get mad at her for asking in the first place. If he wanted her to know something he told her. If she was lacking a piece of information it was by design. She'd learned that years ago.
Still, she wasn't happy about him coaxing her from the gated yard where she'd been finishing up a rather thrilling novel with his promises of an evening snack and crowd watching. She should have seen right through him, known he wouldn't be content with such a laid back end to his Saturday. The older he got the wilder he became, the more daring, more dangerous and unpredictable. It was equal parts off putting and exhilarating.
And deep down she knew she would have followed him into the unknown regardless of his honesty. Where Tom went, she followed. It was a simple truth known throughout the orphanage, throughout their school even. Sometimes she lay in bed, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling with tears brimming in her eyes, disgusted with herself for her weakness, her absolution to the boy fast becoming a man. But by morning she was craving his company, searching him out along the hallways and faces, her heart not resting until she knew his whereabouts.
She spent other nights wondering if she had any kind of similar effect on him, if he felt a magnetic pull guiding him across the grounds to her location. If he missed her when they were apart.
Sometimes she thought he did. But mostly she thought he didn't.
She swallowed bitterly as she tried to keep pace behind him. Tom knew she'd fall in line with him tonight regardless of what lie he told her to lure her out. But god forbid Hermione try to manipulate him in any way. He'd punch a hole through her wall and leave it there as a reminder so she never forgot her place again.
And yet I still follow him, like a hapless dog with her tail between her legs, desperate for his attention, his approval…
She scrunched her nose as they passed an overflowing dumpster, careful of her footing to avoid stepping in something awful. She had just cleaned her trainers. She squealed as she slipped in something squishy and soft. Tom shook his head like she was ridiculous, startling her by pulling her closer and wrapping his arm around her middle, lifting her a few inches off the ground and walking her over the mess. As he set her down he resumed their rapid pace as if nothing had happened, leaving her to blink at him stupidly, touched and surprised by his casual act of chivalry.
And this is why I keep coming back. These brief windows where I think I see something inside of him that no one else does, and I'm desperate to coax it out.
She was pulled from her silent musings when he slowed down, gesturing for her to stay silent. His eyes held a certain glint she had come to recognize as uncertainty. He was always on his guard when roaming the city, trusting no one. He was especially cagey when she was with him, taking responsibility for her safety. She knew he wouldn't try anything too crazy if he'd brought her along. He saved his most wild acts for when he was alone or meeting with some of the other boys from his class, juvenile delinquents in her opinion. She supposed Tom was of the same label, though she didn't see him that way. He was a step above everyone else.
Tom stopped at the mouth of the alley, leaning casually against the brick wall as if he owned the building it was attached to. Hermione squinted in the darkness to better see what was in front of them. It was nearing nine oclock and she was resigned to missing curfew. Even if they turned around now, which Tom looked in no desire to do, they'd never make it back in time. Damn him for getting her into trouble again. And damn her for letting him.
She sighed petulantly and crossed her arms, nonverbally letting him know her thoughts on the matter. His eyes swept over her briefly and he smirked, returning his focus to the street outside. Several minutes ticked by and she pulled her thin jacket closer to her body, feeling the chill set in now that she wasn't moving.
"Where's your coat?"
She ground her teeth together. "Someone didn't give me time to run inside and grab it before they dragged me off like a cow to auction."
"Always so dramatic," he said with a shake of his head, slipping his arms free of his heavier coat.
"Tom, don't be silly, you'll freeze."
"I'd rather freeze than listen to you complain about being cold."
"I didn't say anything!"
"You were about to," he crossed over to her and draped his coat around her shivering frame.
It smelled like him. Spearmint gum and clove cigarettes. She took a steading breath and pulled it closer.
"Thank you."
"Mmm. Now be quiet, I don't want anyone seeing us."
Her brows drew together. "Any chance you'll tell me what we're doing here now that we're here, wherever here is?"
He pinned her with a warning glance and she sighed, leaning back against the opposite wall and playing idly with a long curl. Her hair was to her waist now, wild as ever, but everytime she brought up the prospect of cutting it Tom threw a fit. She didn't understand his investment in the matter but she knew better than to go rounds with him on it. She usually kept it all braided back or pinned up, but today she'd washed it and let it air dry loose. She ran her fingers through the thick curls, feeling a touch of dampness remaining. No wonder she was freezing.
She started to braid it all into an intricate plait, pausing halfway through as she felt the tell tale sign of Tom's eyes on her. She glanced up, wondering if he was trying to signal her it was time to move on. But his gaze was locked on her hands, eyes hooded as if in a trance. She smirked slightly and continued her menstruations, watching Tom watch her all the while. When she got to the end of the braid she had no tie to bind it so she let it rest against her chest, slowly unraveling from the bottom up. His eyes lifted and caught hers, stealing her breath for a moment.
The world was static, time froze, nothing existing but him and her tucked away in a dark corner of the universe.
And just as suddenly as the bubble encased them, it popped. Tom's eyes snapped away and back to the street where something had caught his attention. His stance changed, alert and ready to pounce. Her heart stuttered as she tried to see what he saw, wondering if he was going to do something particularly dangerous despite her presence.
"He's here."
"Who's here?"
"No one."
"Tom…"
"I'll be right back."
"What?!" she gasped, eyes wide as he started to leave the alley.
"Stay right here and don't talk to anyone. I'll be right across the street, back in five."
"Then I'll go with-"
"No, I want you to stay here."
"Tom, please tell me you aren't dealing drugs or something."
"Jesus, Hermione. Are you really asking me that?"
She sucked in a breath, already regretting her words. She knew she'd struck a nerve by the anger on his face, but she was most affected by the flash of hurt in his eyes.
"No, of course not, I'm sorry."
He stared her down for a moment longer and she let him, feeling she deserved his animosity in this instance. She knew about Tom's history, the events that led him to Wool's all those years ago. She felt terrible for bringing up any past trauma.
"Stay here."
She nodded, properly scolded. She sank back into the shadows and watched him closely as he jogged across the narrow road to the cross walk. There was a group of people standing there, she wondered if he was meeting with one of them. A girl with long blonde hair and painted red lips laughed loudly at something her friend said. Hermione knew the moment she spotted Tom beside her. She did a double take, then fluttered her lashes and uttered a coquettish giggle, sneaking a glance at him over her shoulder to see if she'd ensnared him yet.
Hermione clenched her fists, eyes narrowing at the display.
Tom glanced over at the girl, though she could tell it was more out of annoyance for her rappent noise making. She deduced that whatever he was trying to do, he was trying to be covert about it. Having a fan club wouldn't expedite matters any.
Unless he thinks she's attractive, and flirts back…
She swallowed.
Tom smiled at the blonde. He had many smiles, all of them lethal in one way or another. This one was meant to disarm her entirely, and it worked, if the way she stumbled on her feet while standing still was any indicator. Hermione felt the blood rush to her head, her eye twitching when she watched Tom wink at the stranger.
I can't believe he dragged me out here to watch him pick up slags!
The nerve! Who does he- How can he- What does he think I-
I'm leaving.
She spun around on her heel in a fit of irrational anger, facing the alley they'd just traveled through. For some reason it looked vastly different minus Tom. Darker, colder, longer. She tightened the coat around her, realizing a moment too late she was basking further in his traitorous scent, and turned to face the street once more. She didn't see Tom, and she didn't see the blonde or her friend.
Did he leave with them? Would he really bring me out here to watch this?
She felt her chest alight with a sharp pain that stole her breath away. She marched out of the alley onto the sidewalk and started in the direction she hoped home was. She wasn't used to being out at night, the city took on a different life force when the sun went down. It was louder, brighter in the light of the moon, livelier, more everything.
She had barely walked two blocks when a group of men stumbled out of a bar into her path. And stumbling was putting it generously. Two of them had their shoulders braced under the arms of a third, bodily holding him up. A fourth laughed like a jackal into the sky, his breath created a cloud of smoke against the cold. A fifth started walking into the road without a glance in either direction, causing a cab to swerve wildly and honk as his friends exploded in laughter.
She felt the hairs on her neck rise, danger thick in the ar. She slowed to a stop, hesitating, debating if it was better to continue forward and pass them or turn around and risk having them at her back.
A decision I wouldn't have to make if Tom hadn't left me!
She knew the moment one of them locked eyes on her, the atmosphere changing.
"Hey there, where you goin' babe?"
She blinked, taking an instinctive step back.
"Hey now, don't go, come party with us."
Hermione shook her head, always too polite for her own good, at least according to Tom.
"No thank you," she whispered, backing away.
"Don't be like that! We're celebrating! It's this guy's birthday!"
"It's my birthday!" the nearly incapacitated man sprung to life as though the magic words to his revival had been spoken.
"Come party with us, we're going back to the hotel- we got bottles on ice baby, come on." He started walking towards her, his arms out as though he intended to grab her.
Hermione glanced around wildly, all other pedestrians knew to keep their distance and had crossed the street further back to avoid the drunken mess. Hermione was alone with them. Her heart was racing, palms sweating.
Should I run? Am I making too big a deal out of this? He's drunk, I can walk around him. He won't follow, surley…
She spun around and started to walk the opposite way when she felt a hand squeeze her ass through her jeans. She squealed in shock and spun around, the jackal was right behind her, eyes glassy and lost, a feral smile upon his face and sour breath upon his lips.
"Gimme a kiss, beautiful," he braced an arm around her middle, pulling her in close. "You shouldn't be out here alone, come with us, we'll take good care of you."
She opened her mouth to scream for help but her throat was constricted, rendering her mute and breathless. She pushed as hard as she could, straining, digging her nails into the thick leather of his jacket. He only pulled her in harder, bruising her, closer to his puckering mouth.
She started to thrash, slapping him with her hands and twisting, trying to get an angle to kick him in the knee, hoping he'd release her if struck hard enough.
"Oh Jimmy you got a wild one tonight!"
"She's hot! Is she coming back to the hotel with us?"
"She got any friends with her?"
"Yes, she does."
Hermione blinked, ceasing her struggles at the sudden arrival of the familiar voice, causing the supposed Jimmy to pull back in surprise. She twisted her head and glanced over her shoulder, trying to convey a message of terror, just in case there was any confusion as to whether she was an active participant.
"Oi, move on, fucker! She's with us!"
Tom reached out lightening fast, grabbing the wrist of the arm that bound Hermione and twisting it back so hard she heard a loud snap. A second later the man was screaming into her face like a wounded animal. She staggered back, finally free of him. She bumped into Tom and then reached out to grab his shoulder, her legs were shaking so hard she was afraid she'd fall.
He barely spared her a glance, moving out of reach and falling onto his prey in a blur of limbs and swinging fists. Within seconds the drunkard was on his back, weakly shielding his head with his arms, Tom straddling his torso and unleashing hell upon him.
"Fucking. Pervert." He ground out between punches, blood smattering his bruised knuckles and dripping along the man's chin, pooling in his broken mouth. "Think it's fun to force girls to do whatever the fuck you want?" Another headshot. "You picked the wrong girl, mate."
Until that point the man's friends watched the altercation in a dumbfounded stupor, one she could relate to, but suddenly they all lurched into action, staggering towards Tom with murder in their eyes.
"Tom! Stop!" She screamed, finally finding her voice. She raced over, grabbing at his shirt and pulling with all her strength, the material stretched out but the boy remained, oblivious to the world outside of the prone form beneath him.
"She's fucking fourteen! You know that? Fourteen you fucking pervert!"
"Tom!"
"Get off him, asshole!"
"Let's fuck him up!"
One of the men pushed her out of the way and wrapped an arm around Tom's neck, putting him in a chokehold and dragging him away from the bloodied body beneath him.
"Help! Someone help!" she screamed aimlessly into the night, utter terror taking hold.
She kicked at the man dragging Tom away, he was easily twice the boy's size. But when she managed to catch Tom's eye she didn't see an ounce of fear, only a black rage that squeezed painfully at her heart.
"Mi-nee," he choked out, struggling to pry the arm off his throat but not taking his eyes off her. "Stay… back…"
Stay back? They're going to kill you!
She spun in a circle screaming her lungs out for help, seeing people stop and glance warily their way.
What's wrong with you people? Don't you see what's happening? How can you not help us?
But a part of her also knew this was the way of things. People didn't help people. You could only help yourself.
As the other three men fell on top of Tom, kicking and punching while the larger one held him down by the neck Hermione spun in a circle, desperately looking for anything to wield as a weapon. That's when she spotted the tiny rod iron table and chairs set up outside the bar they stood near. She didn't think about her actions, grabbing the nearest chair and dragging it with all her strength towards the pile of bodies. She'd lost sight of Tom.
She could barely lift the thing but managed to brace it against her body and push it forward, like a lion tamer, dead center into one of the men's back. He howled in pain, falling over and crashing into the cement. The others looked up at her, one of them forcefully yanking the chair out of her grasp and throwing it to the side. It hit a parked car, shattering the window and setting off the alarm.
Now people started coming out of the bar, yelling, pointing, and a group of men ran over to break up the fight.
A woman reached for Hermione, trying to bring her inside, asking if she was hurt. She pushed her away and ran for Tom, lying prone on the ground. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his nose broken, blood everywhere, on his face, his arms, his shirt and soaking his hair.
She wept, gently lifting his head and laying it in her lap, using her sleeves to wipe away the blood. There was so much of it. And as the police cars turned the corner with sirens blaring the blood came to life, dancing beneath the blue and cherry lights.
Sunday July 10, 2005
"Hello Tom."
"Hello Mr. Green."
"Having an eventful weekend I see."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"It looks like you're going somewhere, is this a bad time?"
"Would it matter?"
Mr. Green smiled, walking around the breakfast counter and inspecting the row of high end appliances.
"Espresso maker? I thought you detested coffee."
"I do."
The older man looked up, his grey brow rising.
"What an enigma you are, Mr. Riddle."
"The pot says to the kettle."
Green laughed. "I can see I've caught you while you're preoccupied, and I fear I will only preoccupy you further."
Tom watched his handler carefully, not taking the old man's skills for granted despite his advanced age.
"Perhaps we should sit down then."
"Certainly."
They crossed the large living room to sit at the leather sofa, light streaming in from the floor to ceiling windows.
Tom settled deep into the plush cushions, spreading his arms along the back rest while Green perched on the edge of the facing loveseat.
Good, he doesn't intend to stay long.
Tom really had been preparing to leave his flat when his uninvited guest arrived. He didn't have time to waste, but he tried to maintain an air of leisure as to not tip his handler off to the fact he had something very important to take care of.
"I'll be brief, I can tell you're anxious to get going," Green began, the corner of his mouth tipped up.
Tom rolled his eyes.
Nothing gets past that fucking man.
"I came to ask you how last night's event went. I heard it was quite a spectacular turn out."
"Yes, it was. Well over 300 people, as anticipated. Lots of gate crashers. Imagine that."
"Yes, well it was a rather well publicized event. Lots of young socialites in attendance, it makes sense others would want to sneak in and experience a bit of the good life for a night."
"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so. Unfortunately the good life didn't extend to the guest of honor."
"So I've heard. There were no complications then?"
Tom raised a dark brow. "I completed the mission without fail."
Green tipped his head back, gazing at Tom from a different angle, as though studying a specimen beneath a microscope.
"That is true. But also not an answer to the question I asked."
Tom's jaw tensed as he adjusted his position on the couch. "You're obviously here to deliver some bit of news, you know I hate guessing."
"Yes, I know you do. I also know it's not like you to leave behind witnesses. Which is why I thought it prudent to stop by in person and see how things went."
Tom felt his chest seize, his heart stuttering painfully behind his breast bone, but his face remained placid.
"A witness?"
"Indeed. A woman."
It's not possible.
"And who claims I left this woman behind?"
He's bluffing. He can't know about her.
"The Ministry. She's being held by MI6 as we speak."
Tom felt a crushing wave of relief, he let out a slow exhale and tried to disguise it by clearing his throat.
"How interesting. I tell you we have a witness in agent custody and you look relieved."
Bloody bastard.
"I assure you, I am merely looking forward to tying up this loose end."
"I see."
Green continued to study his charge carefully. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Tom?"
You'll never find out about her. Never.
"Not at all. I was hoping you could provide me with some details so that I might clear up this mess accordingly."
"The target's wife is your new mark. She's being transferred to St. Mungo's for treatment. Lucky for us she's being provided a private room."
"And a private security detail, no doubt. Lucky me."
"You are very lucky, Tom, for our source within the Ministry tells us she was a babbling fool when first brought in, and that no viable testimony has been delivered. I highly suggest you make sure it stays that way."
"I'm on it."
Green lingered, staring at him in that all too knowing way that made Tom's skin crawl. But he held his ground, refusing to crack. There was no doubt Green suspected something was amiss, for it was indeed very unlike Tom to leave behind witnesses. However last night had been no ordinary mission. But Green didn't know that. Couldn't ever know that.
If he finds out about her, I'll have to kill him. And I have a feeling he'll be my most tricky mark yet…
Better to avoid the mishap altogether.
"Well, I'll leave you to it then. I trust you'll have the issue resolved by tomorrow?"
"Certainly."
"Excellent. I will speak to you soon, Tom."
He watched Green casually make his way out of his flat, waving goodbye at the door like they were long time friends. Once the door was shut and Tom was once again in solitude he scowled, leaning forward to open his laptop and pulling up the tracking app attached to Hermione's phone.
"Where are you, kitten?" he muttered, watching the dot move along the map at rapid speed.
She was taking the train north.
He had a strong inkling where she was headed.
His smile turned wicked.
"Knock knock."
Harry looked up from his computer.
"What's up?"
Sirius strolled in slowly, hands in his pockets, tipping his head to the room's other occupant.
"Hey Nev."
"Hello Sirius! Thank you for bringing me in on this! It's the most exciting project I've had in a while."
"If you think compiling a list of names and addresses for hundreds of socialites is exciting then I cringe to see your other work."
Neville laughed and Sirius smiled, but Harry could see the light expression was forced.
"Oh god, you have bad news."
"You know me so well. Sorry, kid. We've been given the axe on our witness."
"What!" Harry leapt to his feet. "Is this about Crouch? I swear to god Sirius, I'm really trying here, but-"
"No, no," Sirius held up his hand, "It's not us, it's her kid, he got the big gun lawyers involved and they somehow gave him power of attorney, we can't question her without his permission or presence and he's refusing to let us see her before she's released to his custody."
"Son of a bitch…"
"You're telling me."
Harry kicked the plastic recycle bin, papers flying across the floor.
"Ah, that's better."
Harry shook his head. "Shit, sorry. I just… this is bloody ridiculous. Talk about red flags. This whole thing is turning out to be a fucking shit pile."
"Again, you're telling me."
Harry crossed his arms, shaking his head and silently fuming. Sirius nodded to him with a sympathetic gaze and slowly backed out of his office, disappearing down the hall.
"Sorry Harry, was talking to this witness a big deal?"
Harry sighed deeply and retook his seat, leaning back and peering at the stained ceiling tiles. "It was our only deal."
Neville chewed on the end of his pen. "I heard Dean talking earlier, said she was a bit batty?"
"She was a lot batty. But it wasn't her fault. Her husband was just murdered and she was sunked on downers. I'm surprised she could speak at all."
Neville scratched the back of his neck. "Sounds a bit like my grams. After pa died she started abusing the pills a bit. Gave us quite a scare. We had to admit her to a clinic for a while. She's doing better now though, thank god. Still sees a therapist, but it's not-"
Neville trailed off when he noticed Harry's eyes go wide, jolting in his chair.
"Harry, you okay?"
"Neville, you are bloody brilliant!"
"I am? Why?"
"For several reasons, but at the moment for giving me a fucking great idea."
"Oh. Okay."
"I've got to run, I'll call you later okay? Actually, you may not hear from me tonight, but I'll meet you in my office tomorrow morning."
"Um… sure… Harry, I didn't inspire you to do anything, like, illegal, right?"
Harry smiled at his longtime friend and coworker. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Nev."
Hermione sat at her teaching desk in the classroom she used when she tutored. It was blissfully empty, devoid of noise, the florescent lights off throughout most the building, lit only by the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. It would have been a very peaceful setting, had it been any other day.
But since she was still trapped in the never waking nightmare of this particular day, she sat slumped over with her arms folded atop the desk, cradling her spinning head. The vertigo caused by whatever drug was lingering in her system had long faded. But her racing thoughts still plagued her, immobilized her as effectively as a tranq dart.
I need to go the police. Now. If I wait any longer they'll think I was complicite in the murder.
What the bloody hell are you going to tell them? Do you really have it in you to rat Tom out? To give him up?
I can't give up what was never mine…
Regardless of your history, you have no idea what's going on. What if Tom was trying to help you? What if by going to the authorities you're putting a target on your back?
Can I spend the rest of my life knowing I let a murderer get away?
You'll be haunted by the memory of last night regardless of what happens now. Why make it worse?
What if he comes back?
What if he comes back…
She heard a door closing down the hallway and she shot up in her seat, heart thudding painfully as she held her breath, her entire body tense.
She waited for the sound of footsteps, they never came.
Bloody hell.
She swallowed and slowly took to her feet, every limb trembling. She glanced about the room, debating her options.
Should I even bother trying to escape down the hall? I should just climb out the window…
You're on the second floor, genius. Are you going to scale down the drain pipe? Your parkour skills are a bit rusty. You can barely lift the watering can.
Calm down! You don't even know who's out there! Don't panic until there's reason to panic. Then try not to panic.
She shook her head, willing the rambling of her mind to quiet. She strained to listen for any accompanying noise emitting from the dark hallway beyond, but only vast, empty silence greeted her. She felt like she was in a vacuum, all the air being sucked out of her lungs along with the sound.
She slowly crept to the open doorway and closed her eyes on a stuttered heartbeat, then leaned forward at a snail's pace to peer down the long empty stretch of hall. She turned her head left, turned her head right, saw no one.
She released a breath and sagged against the doorframe.
I'm losing my mind. I need to get out of here, back around people. It's safer out in the open, near a crowd.
Was it safe for Lucius Malfoy?
The thought chilled her.
She spun on her heel and strode back to the desk, collecting her bag and checking her phone for the time.
The sound of metal scraping metal filled the hallway, screeching, echoing loudly into the room and surrounding her in a blanket of terror.
She could no longer pretend there was nothing in the building with her.
She glanced at the windows and cursed herself for heading upstairs. The only feasible exit was through the hallway, down the main stairwell and out the front, the exact way she came in.
Unless…
I can use the faculty entrance, it's closer and my badge will let me through.
She didn't waste time, running blindly into the hall and staggering to a stop, still seeing nothing in either direction. She turned right and ran deeper into the darkness, not liking running blind but knowing the twists and turns of the building like the back of her hand even without use of her vision. It was a much shorter jaunt than going back the way she came, and maybe if the killer couldn't see her he wouldn't be able to catch her…
The killer? You mean Tom?
Even thinking his name caused her to hyperventilate.
Suddenly there was loud bang behind the wall in front of her and a light clicked on, the bright bulbs flickering before fulling waking up and humming overhead. She skid to a stop and bodily crashed into the wall before she could check her momentum. And without making any conscious decision to do so she let out a blood curdling scream.
Her entire body was thrumming with adrenaline, it filled every vein, pushing out the blood and turning her entire being into a live wire about to spark and burst at the slightest provocation.
"What the bloody hell?" asked a rusty voice from the lit room.
She slid to the floor in her panic, scrambling backwards across the hard tile on her bum.
"Who's there?" asked a voice some distant part of her recognized, but in her blind mania everything screamed danger.
She felt tears tracking steadily down her cheeks as she tried to find her footing, eyes wide and locked horrifyingly on the approaching shadow of a very male figure.
"Oi! Stop there! Who are you!"
A bright light flashed in her eyes and blinded her, she instinctively raised a trembling hand to shield her vision.
"Christ! Calm down!"
The command threw her further off balance, finally making her fractured mind click long enough for a spark of recognition to take hold.
"F-Filch?"
"Bloody hell woman, what er' you doing screaming ure ed' off like that?"
She gasped for breath, actually clutching at her chest in an attempt to slow her rapid heartbeat.
"I-I thought… I thought you…"
"You shouldn't be 'ere, girl. The building is closed today. Didn't you see all the lights off?"
She nodded, body going numb in wake of the blinding terror she'd just put it through.
"I, I'm sorry. I'm going now…" she swallowed weakly, slowly backing up and heading for the stairwell at the opposite end of the hall.
Filch eyed her accusingly as she departed. The head of the janitorial staff always thought each student was up to no good. She did her avid best to avoid him most nights she stayed late on campus, but today she was grateful for his presence. It calmed her to know at least one other person was with her.
She was still breathing heavily as she pushed open the doors to the stairwell. Only the bright red emergency door light illuminated the narrow space. It took her eyes a moment to adjust. But it took her body no time to detect a predator in its midst.
The air shifted, something on the wind alerting her to the presence at her back, and as the doors clicked shut behind her on a deafening click she saw the shadow in the corner spring to life.
She spun on her heel, reaching for the push bar and inhaling sharply to let out another hysterical scream when a hand covered her mouth and an arm snaked around her waist, ripping her back and pulling her off her feet entirely.
She thrashed wildly, her eyes tearing up as she struggled for air. She was pressed fully back into something solid and warm, and just beyond the rapid pumping of her blood she could hear a steady breath at her ear. It felt a short eternity before the shadow spoke.
"Stop fighting me. I'm not going to hurt you."
Upon hearing his voice she fought harder, becoming somehow even more terrified and desperate.
"For Christ's sake! If you don't stop struggling I'm going to have to knock you out again, and we're going to have start this all over again tomorrow."
She blinked, taken aback by his hissed commands.
I can't I can't I can't I-
"Hermione."
The sound of her name on his lips punctured her lungs. She deflated on que, her vision fading at the edges, leaving her floating in a haze of red light. He set her down slowly, still held captive by the steel band at her waist. His large hand adjusted, freeing up her nose and allowing her to inhale sharply, taking his heady scent with it.
"I'm going to let you go. But first, you need to know two things. One, if you scream, you'll only alert the elderly janitor. And I'll have to kill him. Two, if you run, I will catch you, and we'll be right back where we started. Nod if you understand me."
She swallowed heavily, tears pouring freely down her cheeks and pooling along his hand.
She nodded.
"Good girl. Now nod if you believe me."
She closed her eyes and felt a tremor seize her body.
She nodded again.
A distant part of her mind thought it strange he didn't tell her not to scream and not to run. He left the options open to her, simply telling her what the consequences would be of either decision. Classic Tom, controlling her every move under the guise of freedom.
He released her mouth first, slowly, no doubt testing the waters to see what she had planned. She sucked in a shuddering breath but beyond that remained silent. She felt his rigid stance relax at her back, his arm slowing falling away, leaving her to support her own weight on trembling legs. She staggered forward, heading for the wall instead of the door as to not give him cause to restrain her again.
She leaned heavily against the cold cement, shrinking back into the corner of the landing and trying to press herself through the wall by way of osmosis. She watched him carefully. He looked the same as he did last night, the apparition more devastatingly perfect up close. And he'd changed into casual wear, which somehow made him more terrifying, that such a creature could manage to walk among the populace without detection.
She watched his dark gaze roam over her slowly, from her shoes to her forehead before flickering down to catch her eyes.
"You look terrified."
She blinked, feeling a hysterical laugh bubbling up her throat. Luckily her airway was too constricted with fear to release it.
He slowly approached her, holding her gaze the entire time, a secretive smile playing at his lips. She remembered that expression from their youth and it caused her chest to seize painfully. The reality of this moment was starting to set in as the past and present clashed, colliding hard, exploding to pieces and leaving her mind a tangled mess of memories, dreams and desires. She couldn't distinguish one from the other anymore, where reality stopped and started.
All that existed in the world was the cold, unforgiving wall at her back and the black, all consuming smoke billowing towards her. The cloud reached her, filling her nose and mouth on her next inhale, racing through her airway and filling her lungs, permeating soft tissues and sinking into veins, racing through her blood until finally reaching her heart, her core, and possessing her fully.
Tom stood not an inch from her, hands placed against the wall on either side of her head as he leaned forward, caging her in as he gently nuzzled her hair, tasting her scent with his next deep breath.
She swallowed desperately, feeling overwhelmed in every sense of the word.
"Wha-" her voice broke, she wet her lips and tried again. "What do you want, Tom?"
He closed his eyes briefly upon hearing his name from her lips. Like he was savoring the sound. She felt a fever burn it's way through her limbs, snapping and sizzling at her skin. Then his eyes opened, staring into hers so deeply she felt as though the ground were opening up and swallowing her whole.
She watched in a fascinated sort of horror as his lips curled into a cheshire grin. She wanted to trace it with her fingers. She clenched her hands at her side to curb the urge. But the black magic spell was broken by the absurdity of his next words.
"I want to take you to lunch."
