A/N - 2/2 today ; read vii if you haven't already.
VIII.
"I don't mean to sound cruel," Hermione drew her arms around his neck, forcing him to relax into into her chest.
"You?" He teased, laughing. "Cruel? I never-"
Her laugh cut him off. He hooked his arms around her legs and he rubbed his chest slowly, encouraging him to further relax against her, and enjoyed the feel of him letting go.
"Are you okay, Tom?" She asked quietly, her jaw resting against the side of his head.
He reached for one of her hands, fingers twining with hers. "Why do you ask?"
She shrugged. Waited. Hoped, really, that he would just tell her. "You seem distant," she told him after while. "I don't recognize your magic anymore."
"Is it darker?" His tone was curious. Anxious, even.
She hummed thoughtfully. "That isn't the word I would use, though I do find it very telling."
"What word would you use, Hermione?"
The hand still rubbing his chest paused. "Heavier," she dragged her nails toward one of his nipples. "More provocative."
He jumped when she tweaked it, as though he hadn't really expected her to do it.
"I can't even believe they still let you go here."
"Only you can feel that, Granger. They have no idea."
"It's us and them, now?" She half-teased.
His fingers skimmed the back of her thigh. "It has been for awhile."
She forced him to look at her, pressing a kiss to his brow. "Why do you treat me as though I'm a stranger, then? As though your mouth hasn't tasted me? As though my fingers haven't-"
"That's enough, Granger," he warned as though he were speaking to Malfoy or Nott. It disgusted her.
"I think it's unfair that you're doing these things without me." She let his jaw relax. Continued her exploration of his chest with the tips of her fingers. "I want nothing more from this than to learn, you know? To grow and to-to- to know."
He was quiet for a long time before craning his neck and turning enough to kiss her. "I know your magic. I know your limits. You couldn't handle this."
She wasn't offended. She understood. His limits –she hated to admit it, because it made her feel less than- were less than her own. She'd come to understand that his magic was damn near limitless, unbound by fear, duty, and expectation. She couldn't say the same of herself, no matter how much she wished she could.
"Then do something I can! The only thing I'm getting out of this is fucked, Tom. Too many ways to really understand."
"Is one way at least enjoyable?"
"When I can picture it's someone else-"
He cut her off, but she'd expected it. She hadn't any more to say, anyway. Surprisingly, his voice was calm as he asked, "Is that right, love?"
"I love your mouth. I love your fingers. I love being full of your cock and desires and," she broke off, her pushing him slightly and attempting to sit up on his bed. He turned toward her, his face a mask. "Knowing it's you- knowing you're this fucked up person –monster-" He smirked-, "I've accepted it. It's just…you don't picture your fucking Bellatrix or that Lestrange girl?"
"I've fucked them both, Granger. And I could do it again, if I wanted to. I would have nurtured and used them, if I'd wanted to. But I chose you. I decided that you were worth more than anyone else could ever be-"
"Oh, lay off it, Riddle."
He frowned. "I mean it. Why would I waste my time with someone I could break?"
Her brows rose. "You don't think you could break me?"
"Why would I want to?"
.
.
.
It was November when he took Neville's seat in Transfiguration. The entire class had to rearrange themselves to make it right. He took her hand. He kissed it. He bit her knuckle familiarly, tongue flicking out to taste her skin.
"Tom?"
She didn't recognize the voice. Their eyes never left each other. "Hmm?"
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to convince Granger to fuck me after class, Bella. What does it look like?"
Hermione laughed. He smiled. Bellatrix sucked her teeth angrily.
"It's a full moon tonight," he told her.
A full moon meant that that they had to finish their ritual. That this would be over come morning. She wasn't sure….she wasn't sure if she wanted it to be.
"Yes. I know."
He nodded. He let go of her hand. They didn't look at each other for the rest of the lesson.
Everyone noticed.
.
.
.
They didn't meet. They allowed themselves to be preoccupied. It was easier than admitting that they were interested in changing the terms of their arrangement.
Instead, he came to her the next morning, rousing her with his mouth, smirking as her fingers tangled in his hair and her body shook uncontrollably.
She'd propped herself up on her elbows after regaining control of herself, smiling at him. He didn't lift his head from her hip, his fingers circling her sensitive flesh lazily. She continued to shake and twitch under his attention.
"There are plenty of full moons."
"My thoughts exactly."
IX.
"What was the cruel thing you planned to say to me?"
"Oh." Hermione tugged her hands through her curls, looking around his room. There was something different about it every time she found herself here, though she could never really tell what it was. "That."
"Yes." He touched her back.
"I was just curious about what happened to your nose?" She felt him freeze, and turned to find him staring at her with an odd expression on his face.
"What's wrong with my nose, Granger?"
"I don't know. It just looks odd. Makes you look less charming and more…dangerous. Rugged. I don't know, Riddle. Did you hurt it playing quidditch?"
"No," he told her tightly. "I didn't hurt it playing quidditch. Aren't you supposed to be using your mouth for something else right now, love?"
She licked her lips, eyes falling to where the sheet pooled around his waist. "I feel like you take advantage of this rite."
He grinned at her. "I'd be a fool not to."
Hermione rolled her eyes, getting up from his bed in search of her clothes. "Right, well," she found her bra and slipped it on, turning to look at him again. "Tonight, I have plans, and I'm sure you have plans with your little band of misfits as well."
"Let me guess, you'll be with the boy wonders tonight," he commented.
"If you must know, we're having a bonfire-"
"How you all got approval for that, I certainly don't know."
"Perhaps if you used your Head Boy privileges for fun instead of, I don't know, sponsoring Fight Club in the Forbidden Forest."
He gave her an amused look as he asked, "Is that really what you think I do?"
"I don't know what you do! Because you don't tell me anything about you!"
"To be fair," he offered, "you don't tell me anything about you, either."
She stared at him for a minute, considering how odd their relationship had become. At length, she climbed back onto his bed and sat as close as possible to him. He still appeared to be amused, but she could see the tightness in his bare chest and shoulders that he tried to hide as he touched her thigh.
"Are you okay, Tom?"
He started at his first name, eyes darting up to meet hers. His gaze was narrow and mistrusting.
"I'm okay," she told him, taking his hand in hers. "After the ritual, I mean. And in general. I feel…I only feel really exhausted after, you know…well not after every time we have sex just sometimes, but other than that," she shrugged, fingers drawing circles on his palm. "But you always feel so; I mean you feel strong, but you seem tired. Really tired."
"I'm on top of the world, Granger. How could I not be?"
She gave him a soft smile, not really believing him but not wanting to press the subject. "Remember the last time you saw me at the Ministry? When I told you I wanted more."
"Yes. You had a date that evening."
"What?"
The smile he offered her was one of supreme indulgence. "The lace bra," he licked his lips, "Plum or maroon-"
"Oh," Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you noticed."
Tom used his free hand to reach over, fingers smoothing over one of her breasts and tweaking her nipple. "I spent the rest of the summer hating whoever got to take it off you that evening."
Hermione laughed. "I didn't have a date. I knew you'd be in my part of the department that day, and I'd plan to tell you I'd do it, and I hoped that you'd just kiss me, but you didn't. I was so annoyed. I spent 96 pounds on that bra."
The look he gave her was so priceless that she leaned over to kiss him, a soft smile on her lips when she pulled away. She turned his hand over and touched his ring, grinning at the small moan he gave when she pressed her thumb into it. "How does that feel?"
"It always felt good," he admitted, still watching her. "Now, it's more so. Whenever you touch my journal I get a raging fucking hard on."
She laughed.
"Probably because I put so much of myself into that one. It was my first. I'd just made the ring when we met last summer."
"Did you really have to kill someone to make them?"
"Yes." His fingers twined through hers as she flinched at the ease of his admittance. "The...Muggleborn…that died last year created that diary."
"Gross."
He laughed, startling Hermione. His eyes were closed, dimples pressed into his hollow cheeks, and she reached over to touch his face on pure impulse. Instantly, his laughter died, smile fading as he caught her hand.
"Sorry," she told him, but he kissed her fingertips, oddly focused on her.
"And I killed my Muggle father to make the ring. The second best thing I've ever done."
There was a knock on his door, causing them both to frown.
"Do you give the password out?"
"Theodore Nott is quite the ward breaker," he told her. He let go of her hand long enough to toss her his quidditch jersey. "Come in," he called, eyes never leaving her.
"Oh. Granger." Nott looked around uncomfortably. "I hadn't thought you'd be here, considering your House's win."
"I was just leaving," she smiled at him.
Tom's fingers tightened around hers. "Were you, love?"
Nott coughed.
"I thought you were joining us this evening."
"Riddle?" Nott questioned, sounding a lot like Hermione felt: lost and confused.
"She thinks we fight each other in the Forbidden Forest, Theodore. We can't have that, can we? And Bella will be with us tonight-"
"-Even more reason for Granger not to be, if you ask me-"
"-they'll have to learn to get along. Bellatrix is quite important to me, Hermione."
"That doesn't mean they need to be friends, Riddle, really. It's best to keep work and," Nott looked Hermione over before finally saying, "play separate."
"Plus, I have to go to the bonfire. I'm Head Girl, and my house won."
Tom sighed, kissing her knuckles before saying, "I suppose we'll do this another evening, then."
"Right," she pulled her hand from his and moved to get up, but he caught her arm.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Riddle-"
"Nott," Tom finally looked at him, "you all are dismissed for the evening."
Her eyes widened, both she and Nott sharing a look of complete horror as Tom said, "I'll be accompanying Hermione."
"Riddle," Nott calmly started, "she's-"
"My girlfriend," Tom remarked, and Hermione was sure that he threw off the entire universe with the statement. He gave Nott a cold smile, "I expect to see all you at breakfast tomorrow."
Once they were alone, she said, "You can't come with me."
"You mean I shouldn't, which is exactly why I will. Unless, of course, you are ashamed of our relationship."
She frowned. "That's not fair."
"Then what is it, Hermione?"
"You can't just call me your girlfriend!" She pulled out of his grip and got out of bed, pacing around.
His amused expression returned. "I assumed that you and I were officially together since Halloween."
"Well you know what they say about that," she told him coldly.
He scowled at her. "Don't do that." And then, as an afterthought, he said, "We've done this before."
She folded her arms over her chest as she said, "We have."
"I'm going with you tonight, Hermione. Regardless of whether or not we are romantically involved-"
"We aren't romantically involved, though! We fuck. We do our homework together from time to time. We…were…magically linked, which is a whole other story, but don't mistake this for something for isn't."
He stared at her for a moment. "As Head Boy, it is also a responsibility of mine to support your endeavors as Head Girl, as well as other House's successes, regardless of it being a direct result of a failure for my own."
He got up from the bed, and circled the foot of his bed to get to his wardrobe.
Hermione noticed an odd amount of bruises along his back, but ignored it as she felt his magic brush over her with a cleansing spell. He pulled on a sweater as she tugged her jeans on.
Once they were both dressed, he turned to her and said, "You're really fucking weird."
"And you hate Muggleborns, so I can't really figure out why it matters."
"You aren't like the others."
"I resent that. I'm exactly like them. The only difference is that I refused to let a world of people tell me no, where many other Muggleborns allow they're prejudice fucking peers dictate how much success they have in this world. I can't fault them for that, and you shouldn't either. You aren't even a Pureblood and you're the biggest fucking bigot I know."
"I have never treated you poorly."
"I don't care how you treat me! How you treat others is what disturbs me."
"You didn't have a problem with it when you decided to sleep with my journal every night last summer, Granger. Nor did you have a problem with it when we quite literally linked ourselves for the rest of our natural lives." He shrugged. "It seems a bit odd to have a problem now."
"I've gotten what I wanted."
He recoiled as though he'd been burned.
"Tonight was a full moon. I came to you. It's done."
"Hermione," he murmured, stepping closer to her.
She pushed him away, ignoring the way he winced painfully. "Don't. It's done. The book isn't influencing us anymore. You don't have to pretend you wanted anything more from me then my magic. Winter holiday starts soon, too. More than enough time apart for this to work it's way out of out systems. We're done."
"Hermione," he tried again, but she pushed past him and out of his room, locking her own door behind her.
A/N - Thanks for reading/reviewing!
