Author's Note: Many apologies for this long overdue chapter. Writer's block is a pain. Thank you all for your patience and I hope you enjoy.
The next morning, Tom made the very conscious decision to slide into the empty space beside Hermione during breakfast at the Ravenclaw table. Although he was well aware that he was breaching the inter-house boundaries which existed during mealtimes, he found that he just did not have it in him to care. He ignored the incredulous stares that those present in the Great Hall gave him in favor of helping himself to the morning spread, shooting a pointed look toward his fellow Slytherins to keep them from gawking at him like blithering idiots.
Hermione glanced away from the tome that she was reading and arched a perfect eyebrow at him. Her honey gaze moved away from him and cut across to her Housemates who shuffled uneasily in their seats as they attempted to return to their long-forgotten conversations. Hushed whispers sounded across the table about the Slytherin prefect that chose to sit away from the snakes' burrow, away from the court he seemed to reign over during each meal time.
Hermione returned to her book and refused to look at him when she spoke.
"Good morning, Tom," she greeted cautiously.
"Good morning, Hermione," he returned rather heartily. "What are you reading?" He scanned the cover of her book. "Legends of Serpentine Monsters?"
Hermione perked in excitement at his observation, and her initial vigilance disappeared almost instantly as she began to babble about the book.
"Yes! It is a fascinating read quite honestly. I began it last night after finishing most of my work for the week and I have yet to put it down for more than a moment's notice. Did you know that Athena punished Medusa because Poseidon forced himself upon Medusa within Athena's sacred temple?"
She spat the word sacred as if she thought of it as anything but.
"And then, later on, when Perseus beheaded her, he gave her head to Athena, who placed it on her shield? It's a travesty and absolutely infuriating, truly, how some women will be complacent in perpetuating the patriarchy and have the gall to -"
Hermione stopped talking abruptly and blinked owlishly at Tom, who had continued eating as she talked about her book.
"Why are you sitting here?" she suddenly asked rather bluntly, as if she remembered that this was the one place that he had taken from her and not the other way around. This was a place that was not his and that he did not belong. Her eyes narrowed as if she was attempting to pick him apart to find his truths.
Tom shrugged as he finished chewing the food in his mouth. He took his time with dabbing his mouth primly before setting the cloth napkin onto his lap.
"You told me that you needed a friend," Tom stated matter-of-factly. "I am here to be your friend."
Hermione lowered her book and stared at Tom for what seemed like forever. Her eyes flitted across his face, and he tried to appear genuine. He meant what he said - he would be her friend and then, when she finally trusted him, her Lord.
She seemed hesitant as the long silence stretched between the two of them, and Tom resumed his breakfast, willing to let her take her time.
She was his.
She would understand this fact sooner or later.
Tom could almost see the myriad of thoughts racing across her face as she analyzed him and made a mental note to help her fix that in the future - it would do him no good if one of his could be read so easily.
Finally, a tentative smile stretched across her face, and she radiated like the sun on the first day of spring.
"It would be a pleasure to be friends with you, Tom," she said softly. Tom looked back at her, and she seemed so young at that moment. He quirked his lips in imitation of a smile.
"Likewise."
Hermione slipped a thin, leather bookmark in between the pages of her book before helping herself to breakfast. She returned to her previous ramblings with fervor, and he took note of the things he learned about the witch.
Hermione was very much against sexism and seemed almost militant in the ways that she spoke of it. He could feel her ire as she spoke about the story of Medusa with vehemence, with hatred against a goddess who could not possibly exist. He would have to ensure that his Knights did not make any comments that would set off the tiny witch, lest she castrate them all, and he was very certain that if she were to do so, it would not bode well with the Knights.
She was particular about her food not touching one another and ate meticulously. She bit into her toast in careful, even lines before moving onto her scrambled eggs. She seasoned them evenly with much pepper and a smidge of salt before spooning them into her mouth. When it came to the orange slices, she delicately peeled one side and took a clean bite before continuing. Once her plate was cleared, she took small sips of her pumpkin juice as she talked to him.
Every so often, she would scan the Great Hall with much trepidation as if she was afraid of something before returning to him with a bright smile on her face. He noticed that when her eyes landed on Abbott, they looked like infernos filled with anger and malice before transforming into something deceivingly innocent.
He rather enjoyed that.
She was knowledgeable on a wide berth of subjects as she easily maneuvered from one topic to another. It seemed that she was a know-it-all in everything and readily argued with him. Her candor with him and her quick-wit simultaneously amused him and infuriated him.
"Honestly, Tom, wands are cumbersome, yes, but we use them for a reason. They are a focus for us in which we use to augment our own power. It is our wands that allow us to be more powerful and for our magic to be more precise."
"But what if I could make my magic more precise without the use of a wand? My wand is always with me but what if one day, something were to happen to it and I could not use it for the moment? I'll be a sitting target for someone to do as they please."
She tilted her head, and she did that a lot when she was trying to think through his responses, and nodded.
"That's a valid point."
He wondered when he would finally come to understand this witch who was layered in ways he had yet to uncover.
But it certainly wasn't to be that morning, as breakfast was suddenly over all too soon and the two of them left the Great Hall together where he spotted some of his Knights waiting for him. He directed Hermione towards them.
"Hermione, I would like to introduce you to some of my friends," he gestured to the small group of Slytherins before turning towards them. "Hermione is a new friend from Ravenclaw. I am sure that you all will be seeing each other more frequently."
He watched carefully as they greeted Hermione with chaste kisses on the back of her small hand before she bade them farewell and headed to her Herbology class.
"Tom?" One of the Knights intoned.
"Thelonious," he acknowledged.
"You weren't sitting with us at breakfast this morning and we saw you sitting with her. Should we be sitting with you at the Ravenclaw table, too?"
Tom contemplated on how to answer. He wanted Hermione to develop an amicable relationship with his Knights. But he also wanted -
"No," he responded quietly. "But be aware that she will be your sister in the future, and as such, should be treated appropriately. I have plans for her to join our cause."
"What of her blood? Granger is not a pureblood - "
"That is not a matter for your concern, Nott," Tom dismissed sharply, although Thelonious did raise a valid concern. "Now, I believe we should be off to our classes before we are late."
He left without a goodbye with thoughts of how to integrate her firmly into his inner circle. He needed to figure out what her bloodline was and if he needed to, make adjustments. Their conversations during the morning meal showed him that she was not just as powerful as him, but possibly as intelligent, too.
He couldn't afford to lose someone like her.
Revised April 16, 2019
