Welcome to Chapter 10 my oh-so-wonderful readers. This is my longest chapter yet... thankfully (for all of you) I am a great procrastinator of both university assignments and the project evaluation I am *supposed* to be doing at work (hides from boss).
Thank you soooo much for all of your reviews! I can't believe I cracked the 100 mark - this is way above anything I ever expected and I am just so chuffed! Feeling the love probably helped churn this chapter out so much more quickly then intended (hint, hint hehe)... oh and just blame Tom... he won't stop talking to me - on the train, in the car, at work, in meetings, in lectures - he even had the audacity to pop into a focus group the other day (the nerve)! we all know the dark lord likes to be a chatter box...
Thanks to: f4vivian, rakel03, Megii_of_Mysteri_OusStranger , sweet_tang_honney , nikif, CaBuckeye , AwesomePersonlolxx , ItsUpToYou , Nerys, LeahHeartsEdward , ilovefireyredheads , Kelly Starr, HereToRead84 , LK_HoGwArTs_hEaDgIrL , magentasouth , Ceralyn and purebloodprat.
Thanks to all who have put this on alert or favourite as well :)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
"Are you lost or incomplete / Do you feel like a puzzle, you can't find your missing piece / Tell me how do you feel / Well I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak / And they're talking it to me" – Coldplay (Talk)
Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived back at his office at around 11pm after two weeks away in Romania on official Ministry business. He groaned wearily as he sat at his desk and rubbed his forehead. He mused that being Minister after the war wasn't quite as "cut and dry" as what he initially thought. Kingsley liked to think of himself as a pragmatic sort of bloke who "got the job done"… however, even the upper echelons of government had to put up with the same annoying bureaucratic processes of that he was plagued by even when he was just a lower ranked Auror.
He eyed his desk and noted the personal correspondence that had built up during his week away. Thank god Ministry corro was taken care of by the Deputy, he shuddered as he pulled the large pile of letters forth. Going through them, he noted many were invitations to all sorts of events, a couple of howlers from angry members of the public that managed to get past his advisory team - you can't please everyone, he sighed – until he finally came across a letter from Arabella Figg. Perking up with interest immediately, he opened the letter and read through it at least three times. Kingsley always had to re-read things multiple times to compensate for a terrible habit of speed reading absolutely everything. Each time he read through the letter he looked for something different. The first review was initially to detect any bad news or issues, the second review allowed him to pick up what was actually going on and the last review allowed his thoughts to mingle with what was actually being said so he could articulate some kind of response.
Kingsley couldn't help the relief that coursed through him every time he got a letter from Mrs Figg stating that there didn't seem to be any issues with Tom Riddle. Every day that went past without any alarms being activated for purposeful magic by Mr Riddle also allowed Kingsley to subconsciously relax each time he went to bed at night.
The Tom Riddle issue seemed to not be as stressful as the months passed without any pressing news. Kingsley couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of the fact that his Obliviate had worked so well – with the help of Ministry regulated memory potions of course… Not necessarily an arrogant man, as soon as he mentally praised himself, the words "constant vigilance" flashed automatically through his thoughts. The words of his much respected ex-colleague and friend Moody making him frown a little bit. How long was he going to need to worry about Tom Riddle? What was going to happen when there was a change of guard? Elections were still a good two years away, but there was no guarantee he'd keep his seat. Would he hand this information over to the new Minister, or would it become a personal mission? These thoughts seemed to always be in the back of his mind, and when pulled forth, always repeated themselves in the same order and yet, he had no answer.
Noting the issue with the memory potion that Mrs Figg had addressed, Kingsley began writing a quick response, firstly apologising for his delayed response and then directing her to keep contact with Mr Riddle in one form or another, but not to push visiting as the last memory potions would, in his opinion, hold out and the monthly dosages were merely a personal risk assessment he had made.
Signing the letter and preparing it for Owling the next morning, he then placed Mrs Figg's letter in a special correspondence folder he kept. His eyes again caught the note about Harry Potter and Kingsley made a mental note to catch up with Harry as soon as possible.
Hermione was laying on her couch reading a fascinating new book on the use of Arithmancy in law enforcement. Harry had been generous enough to send it to her, knowing it would be right up her alley, but begging her to keep it a secret as the book was for Auror training only. Hermione had chuckled at Harry's funny little letter attached to the book and could just imagine him going weighing up the pros and cons of sending Hermione the book.
Before she could finish a chapter on the ground breaking new theory of employing Arithmancy with muggle crime data analysis methods more effectively predict illegal spell casting trends, she heard a knock at the door. Looking at the clock and realising that it was about lunch time she wondered who could be visiting.
Opening the front door she got the shock of her life when she saw Ron standing there, hands in pockets and looking sheepish, on her doorstep.
"Ron!" Hermione breathed in shock.
"Hey 'Mione, I'm not interrupting anything am I?" He asked, looking a little worried.
"Er, no. Um, come in…" She said somewhat awkwardly and stood back from the door to allow him in. She quickly led him to the lounge room and he sat down on her couch.
"Sorry, I know you weren't exactly expecting me but, ah, I really need to talk to you." He replied, whilst rubbing his palms along his legs in a nervous manner. "You're not too busy are you?" He asked, looking up at her, pensively.
Hermione stared at him before finally snapping out of it. "Um, no, Sure. Would you like a drink first?"
"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."
Hermione simply nodded and quickly went into the kitchen to make tea. She certainly didn't expect Ron to show up. It had been almost a week and a half since their fight at the engagement party and she wondered what made him finally decide to come and talk to her. Whilst she wasn't necessarily mad at Ron anymore she simply felt disappointed that after everything they had been through, the subject of who Hermione decided to spend her time with caused so much disruption in their friendship. Hermione just didn't know how to fix that fact that she didn't see any romance in the future with Ron. Walking back into the lounge room she spotted him holding the Arithmancy book and casually flicking through it. Hearing her re-enter the room, he looked up from the book.
"How'd you get your hands on this?" He asked curiously, whilst holding the book up.
"Oh Harry sent it to me." She replied as she placed the mugs on the coffee table and sat down next to him.
"He's not supposed to do that!" Ron replied with a grin on his face.
"I know." Hermione replied, chuckling. "But he knew how much I would enjoy reading it, so I'm supposed to keep it a secret." She said, letting the smile on her face remain. "How have you been, Ron?" She then asked, changing the topic for him, knowing that he needed her to steer the conversation a little for him.
Ron looked incredibly sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, not too good, actually." He looked at her and pursed his lips. "I'm so sorry 'Mione. I've been such a prat to you. I should never have said those things at the party – but I was drunk. And a bit jealous."
Hermione stared at Ron in shock. Ron was not the kind of person to just hand out apologies. She sighed and looked up at him. "You really hurt my feelings, Ron." She responded, sadly.
"I know. I just… I guess I just feel weird at the moment you know?" He studied his hands. "I really thought we would be together… after the war. I thought you were exactly what I wanted. We would get engaged like Harry and Ginny and everything would be set. I thought it would help me… I guess… move on?" He looked at her again.
Hermione tilted her head in confusion. "Move on? What do you mean?"
"It feels like since Fred died that everyone has busied themselves with one thing or another." He ran a hand through his hair. "Harry and Ginny have each other, Mum's busy with the wedding planning, Dad's busy helping the Ministry re-structure… Bill's busy with Fleur and the baby and Percy's got Penelope. I mean, even George has the joke shop and him and Angelina have been spending a lot of time together lately. Charlie's gone back to Romania and here I am, without anything to move on with. I mean even you have university now… not to mention Ginny told me more about your new boyfriend." He added the last bit like it was an after-thought but Hermione knew that his nonchalance wasn't to be taken at face-value.
"Oh Ron…" Hermione sighed, and clasped his hand. "No one's forgotten about Fred."
"No… I know," he quickly replied, before she could say anymore. "It just feels like everyone's got something to help them with not thinking about it all the time. I feel as though I have nothing else to think about. It's always there, you know?"
Hermione looked at him sadly. She didn't really know what to say. She knew how difficult it had been for the Weasley family to loose Fred and then cope with all the other loses from the War. So many people had been touched by the death and destruction of Voldemort. She felt a pang in her chest as she squeezed Ron's hand. He suddenly looked up at her.
"The thing is 'Mione, I know we're not right together." He gave her a small smile. "Now, that is. Before was a whole other story."
"Ron…" Hermione began to speak.
"No, no it's all right – I've got this. You see, I've been talking a lot to Percy of all people about it." He gave her a rueful smile.
"That's good Ron." Hermione encouraged.
"Percy reckons that it's okay if we go different paths. For so long it was just you, me and Harry. Percy said that I was holding onto that too tightly, you know, expecting it to never change. With everything that went on it's so frightening that we are now ready to go on with our lives and it won't be the three of us doing it together anymore. I figured that maybe it would be the three of us for the challenge of me dealing with losing Fred – I mean, we all lost him but… you know."
Hermione stared at Ron, gobsmacked. He looked at her and laughed quietly at her expression.
"I know. When did you ever expect anything remotely profound from Ron Weasley, huh? Especially after my performance the other week – I'm cutting down on the fire whiskey by the way." He gave a cheeky grin that might have been a little bit forced.
She couldn't help the laugh that escaped and pulled him into a tight hug. "Ron, no matter what happens I will always be there for you." She whispered.
He returned her hug. "I know that now. I'm sorry okay?"
"Forgiven." Hermione replied simply.
"I'll always be there for you too 'Mione. Merlin, you and Harry are my best friends!" And he pulled back from the hug, smiling sadly at her.
"Come and help me make some lunch." She ordered, changing the topic and Ron's eyes lit up.
"This visit wasn't planned to coincide with lunch by the way!" He joked as he clambered up of the couch.
"Sure…" she trailed off and smirked.
"Hermione you're becoming really good at smirking since hanging with those Slytherin gits." Ron joked as they went into her kitchen. Hermione simply rolled her eyes good naturedly and laughed.
Certain things just didn't add up lately, Tom thought, as he sat on his couch staring at the items on his coffee table. He leaned forward and picked up his notebook, casually flicking through the pages and mentally running through what he had recorded in there already. The last dream he had wasn't as descriptive or as real as some of the others, in fact, where the other dreams seemed like real life, this dream seemed almost abstract in its nature. It was simply flashes of an old man with a long white beard staring thoughtfully at him. The funny thing was that whilst the old man watched him he held his hands out, and bright orange flames shot out of them towards Tom. Instead of burning him though, the flames calmly licked at Tom's own hands. Looking up at the old man, he noticed that this man had suddenly had developed an annoying twinkle in his eye… he only remembered that because it was a similar twinkle that always appeared in his grandmothers eyes when she dithered on about various matters during his visits to her.
Tom had, in the last week, recorded this dream as well as what he was able to recall about all of the other dreams in his notebook. Whilst he refused to read one of those "What does your dream mean?" books – because that would just be too embarrassing - he logically decided to outline as much detail of the dreams that he could remember. He then wrote down anything he felt was symbolic such as key words, objects or people under the dreams description, because Tom was nothing if not thorough when he conducted research.
Carefully placing the notebook down, he then turned to the book he had taken from Hermione's flat. Despite its somewhat shabby and old appearance, it seemed to hold a certain air of importance about it. Lightly running his fingers down the cracked spine, he opened it carefully and gingerly removed the strange paper with Hermione's notes on it.
Tom heaved a sigh and leaned back on the couch, rubbing his cheeks. The dreams, the strange feelings - everything in fact - had begun when Hermione had come into his life. Of course, being the thorough researcher he was, the first thing he looked for was the common denominator or trend. After a couple of frustrating hours of note taking… and perhaps even a little bit denial, he admitted that Hermione seemed to be the common thread holding all of these occurrences together. No, she wasn't the one who caused his dreams… but they only started after he met her… "Lies" the snake had told him in that very first dream, as it had coiled around Hermione. The giant snake had suggested that Hermione was "the truth!" so to speak. He didn't really know what to make of that dream, until the others began occurring and other strange things began happening. What was the lie? Why would Hermione know, or be a symbol of the truth?
Running a hand absentmindedly through his hair, he then thought more about Hermione personally. He couldn't deny the instant attraction he felt towards her. It surprised him at first, whilst she was definitely pretty; he had previously gone for women who were a lot more flashy and perhaps, if he admitted it to no-one but himself, slightly vapid and fairly stupid. They were also the kind of women who you never pursued anything long-term with. That pain in the arse, Marlene, being a perfect example of his previous conquests. Hermione on the other hand, she wasn't flashy at all – in fact he had a sneaking suspicion that Hermione despised anything like that. She was definitely a low-maintenance kind of girl. For some reason, this pleased him immensely. It also pleased him immensely that she felt like an equal to him. She was very bright and, Tom mused, very bossy. When he remembered the time that he dared to speak over her to those two dolts Zabini and Malfoy, he smirked. At the time he was incensed at her attitude towards him, but now, if anything he quite enjoyed it. Tom had never been one for close friendships or real relationships. Sure, he had acquaintances at uni and casually saw a few women but he was more than happy with keeping people at a polite distance. Hell, he even kept his own Grandmother at a distance. However, as soon as Hermione came barrelling into his life, he knew that he wouldn't be able to treat her like he treated the rest. She wouldn't accept that and even hisown mental reaction to her wouldn't allow that. He wasn't unhappy about it though. If anything he was completely and utterly intrigued.
His physical and mental attraction to her aside, there was also something else there pulling him towards her like a magnet. He felt it when they touched, kissed and held one-another. It felt like something deep inside of him reached out for her when she was near. This feeling inside of him told him to grab onto her and not let go… Tom felt extremely possessive of Hermione; she was his. Tom suddenly gritted his teeth at the thought of any other man touching Hermione. She was special and his subconscious told him that only he could understand her full potential. What exactly was her potential though?
Realising that thinking about Hermione had completely distracted him from his task at hand; he quickly looked back down at the old book. He was so disappointed at first to realise that the book had been written in some kind of weird code that he didn't recognise at all. However, he had been ever so happy to see that Hermione's notes provided some kind of explanation to the book. He hadn't had much of a chance to read through the voluminous notes, as he had been busy – he embarrassingly noted – writing in his dream diary. He reassured himself that his dream diary – shudder – was for an important purpose… not because he liked sitting around analysing his feelings like some teenage girl, not at all.
He began reading through Hermione's notes. He approvingly noted that she was almost as methodical as he was. Entries were dated and information was written in a way that you would see in an report, or a literature review in a research report. After about two minutes of reading he was completely enraptured with what he was reading and was suddenly, and rather greedily, sucking in each and every word…
"… I am not sure why I was given this. The translation is simple enough, but what does it mean?"
"The runic translation dictates …"
"… Ron said that these are merely fairy tales … why did he bequeath this to me then? Scrimgeour was suspicious about this book in particular – why?"
"… The Tale of the Three Brothers…by far the most fascinating … Is it symbolic of everyone's fear of death?"
"There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding, road at twilight … the oldest brother, a powerful man … a wand that always wins duels for its owner … the second brother … an arrogant man … humiliate death … the stone would have the power to bring the dead back … the youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest … Death most unwillingly, handed over his own coat of invisibility … "
"…Harry said he has seen this symbol before … Lovegood was wearing it at Bill and Fleur's wedding, apparently."
"What do I know about this? Invisibility cloak, resurrection stone, death stick"
"Confirmed: Mr Lovegood stated the Deathly Hallows came from the Tale of the Three Brothers. Though it is simply a fairy tale … meant for children."
"Harry went mad today … believes he descended from Peverells, because he has the cloak … believes Voldemort descends from the other brother … Thinks this is his secret for us to find out – to beat him … What about Horcruxes? We don't even know where all of them are …"
"Peverall family tree?"
"… the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death …"
"… We need to find them. Where would I hide them, if I was him? Harry won't listen …"
"… If this was what we were meant to be looking for, he would have told Harry! Can the Deathly Hallows fit in with the Horcruxes?"
There wasn't another entry for at least a month after this last one, Tom noted. He then observed – as he turned the next pages – that whilst the first set of notes were written almost passionately and in some cases, Tom smirked, rather angrily when she was talking about this Harry and the fact that he disagreed with her on many theories relating to what Hermione believed was simply a fairy tale. He continued reading the next entry; he noticed the change in her handwriting almost immediately and it made his brows furrow in contemplation. If he was an expert at handwriting, he would almost say that these notes, compared to the last set, seemed more reserved, less judgemental. The writing was less cursive and care-free… it was almost wound up tightly, trying to hold itself together…
"We spoke to Ollivander … the Deathstick, Wand of Destiny or the Elder Wand … this was tortured out of him …"
" … Voldemort … the Elder Wand … Was Harry right? Ollivander said that this is not just about the twin cores or Harry anymore … ultimate power … ultimate destruction …"
" … Ollivander believes in the Elder Wand … Review book ASAP …"
"… didn't know about The Deathly Hallows though … knowledge rests with the wands …"
"Harry says Gregorovitch … Grindelwald must be noted … He had it! He had it all along and never said a thing! Harry was never told … Harry believes it was meant to be this way …"
" … Dumbledore …"
"… Ron wonders if we should have gone for it … we would have never made it in time … Harry noted the he already knew about it – he knew!"
" … the way he took it … Harry could never … disgusting … he's now the master …"
"Horcruxes are the only key now … we must find them … I wonder if we were never actually meant to find it … It's real, Harry was right all along …"
The notes abruptly ended. Tom read through them once again for good measure, feeling a strong thrum in his chest as he took in the information for a second time. He wondered what happened after Hermione realised that this Harry had been right all along. Tom noted the guilt that seemed to emanate from Hermione's notes when she conceded that he had been right.
Placing the book and paper-work back on the table, he placed his head in his hands. His head was running so quickly he didn't know where to even start. Leaning back and stretching his hands in the air he stood up and began pacing his living room, head bowed, trying to think.
Tom felt as though he was swimming in a dark pool, and he had to locate something at the bottom of it. It was there – he just couldn't see it. He could only just see what was in front of him.
He tried to emotionally detach himself from the situation, for once in his life this actually proved to be difficult. He then began to look at it from a purely analytical view point… perhaps how a police officer might view the scene of a murder – with a certain level detachment so they piece together all aspects and solve the puzzle. He felt his mind clear and he slowly shuffled through each piece of information, noting some – rejecting others. He found this type of analysis calmed him down immensely. Sitting back down, several questions remained. What sort of school did Hermione go to exactly? The kind that teaches her to…
He stopped suddenly as one thing in particular careened right to the front of his mind. Pulling his note book on his lap he quickly he flicked through pages until he finally found it. He quickly scanned through his entries until he found what he was looking for:
"The girl, Myrtle (?) then told Abraxas that she wanted help with her Runes homework. She said "Tom is the smartest in our year – he is the best at Runes."
He couldn't help the self-satisfied grin that appeared as he read it. No, he hadn't been imagining it at all. He quickly grabbed Hermione's notes and flicked through them till he found the obliging entry…
"The Runic translation dictates that the age is possibly 15th or 16th century. The book is a 1st edition. A basic translation of the book indicates that these are children's fairy tales. Once I conduct a more complex analysis and translate the Runes completely, we must find out what it has to do with the horcruxes. I know Dumbledore entrusted it to me for a reason."
Runes… He then looked at the story book and stared at the runes which graced its pages, almost as though he was expecting them to suddenly transform into words before his eyes and then he'd be able to read them too. He wanted to read them, Tom knew he was just as clever as Hermione – if not more, and his dream told him… it told him before he saw the book, it told him he was the most clever at it... He shook his head very suddenly. That feeling of being out of control was swirling inside of him again. A warm shiver shot through his stomach then shoulders and finally, he felt it bloom in his cheeks, leaving a calming tingle. Sucking in a large breath he tried to control his thoughts. Again, he went back to the same question which had been stumping him for some time… what exactly did this mean?
He was being forced to chase something that he just couldn't catch. It angered him immensely; he was a high achiever and was not familiar with the feeling of failure. Dammit! What is missing? What am I missing?
Deciding to try and be logical he grabbed a pen and paper and tried to write down his thoughts logically….
"The dreams began when I met Hermione. Since I met her, weird things have happened. I've seen her do things that I couldn't explain. I can't explain how drawn I am to her."
"Strange dreams about what feels like a past I have no recollection of. Snakes speak to me… In each dream they speak to me, they seem to be some kind of catalyst – asking me to look at a bigger picture, or perhaps asking me to take a closer look at what's around me?
"A part of my childhood I can't remember, but it was me… School years which are completely different from my own … I felt like I was in a time period before my own."
"The book from Hermione's links in with things from my dreams… Runes, for example, were mentioned in my dreams. She spent months decoding this book and discussing the meaning. How old was she? She only seems to have just finished school…"
"She talks of magic … she talks of wands, destruction, destiny … It plays in with that book of fairy tales. Hermione doesn't believe it but Harry does. Hermione has to concede that Harry is right."
"Who exactly are Harry and Ron? Hermione has spoken of Ron… a friend from school?"
"Who is Dumbledore? Was he some kind of mentor to Hermione and her friends?"
"Who is Voldemort?"
Feeling much more organised, Tom still couldn't help but feel incompletion as he re-read the notes. In frustration he shoved it all back on the coffee table and stood up. He knew that he needed to take a step away from all the information that was in front of him. Walking into the kitchen, he poured himself a whiskey and took a sip, hoping that the alcohol might at least calm the constant ragged feeling that hummed in his body ever since he read through that book and Hermione's notes.
He finally allowed the thoughts that Hermione was perhaps hiding or not telling him something come to the forefront of his mind. She had to be. Occasionally, he thought, he would see something flash through her eyes. Strangely enough, though Tom liked to know everything, he wasn't angry at Hermione for not telling him whatever it was that that she was hiding, they had, after all, only been together for what was . Normally, this kind of refusal to share knowledge would really bother Tom but with Hermione, he found it incredibly exciting. He finally had a challenge in his life. After spending so long feeling as though he was missing something he felt as though he was on the cusp of discovering what it was.
Hermione was currently huddled under a blanket on her couch having a little bit of a cry. She didn't like crying much, to her it was much too indulgent, but occasionally she felt – just like every other girl out there – that all you needed sometimes was to shed a few tears.
Ron had left hours ago. Hermione had said goodbye to him with a spring in her step – so relieved that they had sorted out the worst aspects of their differences and that he seemed to be coming around to the idea that they were never going to be another "Harry and Ginny".
Everything had been going great in her afternoon after that, until she started thinking a lot more closely about Ron's reasons for behaving the way he had in the last few months. How could she be so selfish to not truly realise, or even see the obvious pain he had been going through? The guilt slowly welled up inside of her as the afternoon progressed. If, instead of reacting harshly to his behaviour like she did, she may have actually been able to see why he was being so demanding of a possible relationship between the two of them – instead of thinking that he was just being unreasonable.
Then she began thinking about Fred. What started on thoughts of Fred became a domino effect to thinking about Dumbledore, Moody, Remus, Tonks, Dobby… even Snape… These people had given up so much and died for it, so she – a muggle born witch - could walk in that world accepted – yet here she sat, currently refusing to participate in the magical world and being selfish. Wiping a fresh set of tears away she bit her lip, trying to control a sob that threatened to leave her mouth. Trying to pull herself together, she thought about whether going off to muggle University was such a brilliant idea. The wizarding world still needed help rebuilding… it was going to take years to remove all traces of Voldemort's terrorist campaign for power.
She couldn't just leave though. Hermione was not a quitter. No, she was simply letting her emotions get the best of her – which is perfectly normal, thank you very much. Why couldn't she just enjoy this time? This wizarding world would survive… hadn't she given enough of herself to it already? No, these feelings of guilt were not necessary. Besides, what about Tom? Hermione sighed; Tom had become such a huge part of her life in such a short space of time. Sometimes she had to pinch herself at how lucky she had been at meeting him… she had become absolutely besotted by his intelligence, looks and charm. Not to mention, he was quite protective and perhaps a bit possessive. Funnily enough, Hermione didn't mind the possessiveness as much as what she might have a couple of years ago. After spending almost seven years 'mothering' Harry and Ron, to have a man keep her on her toes was exciting and intriguing. She knew if she put her foot down and told him what's what, he would listen, and probably try to boss her around right back, but he would still listen. Sometimes it was okay to let him make what she thought were the tough decisions – such as the momentum of their relationship. Speaking of which, Hermione was currently learning to do many things with Tom… she smirked… he had a very talented mouth… and hands… and well, she thought, he was very nice to look at. Feeling heat flood her lower abdomen as she remembered how he had pleasured her recently, she didn't know if she could hold out much longer from sleeping with him. She also knew – mainly because he cheekily admitted it – that he wouldn't be able to stop himself with her soon. Hermione was surprised that she wasn't even frightened by the raw desire he often displayed in those times they had gone further than just kissing. If anything it completely exhilarated her.
Hearing another knock on her door, she sighed and got up. If it was Tom, then he must've been reading her mind – and well, she wasn't expecting any other visitors to be honest. Quickly wiping her eyes and adjusting her pony tail, she hoped that she didn't look too deplorable… her eyes didn't feel too puffy, thankfully. Opening her door, she was greeted with the rather delectable sight of Tom Smith. When his eyes met hers, his face changed from impassive to anger in a second.
"What's wrong?" He demanded as he stepped towards her and looked closer at her face.
Hermione flinched slightly at his bossy tone, but answered anyway. "Oh, I was just a bit sad… nothing to worry about." She gave him a grin to try and appease him.
Tom was obviously having none of it. He pulled her towards him and ran a hand through her hair. "Who's upset you? I swear if I find out someone has-"
"Tom!" Hermione interrupted what was sure to become a rant, "It's okay. No one has hurt me… okay?"
He looked at her, a bit of a pout forming on his mouth that Hermione just wanted to kiss off. "Why were you crying then?"
Hermione bit her lip, feeling awkward. "Oh… it's um… my best friends brother passed away not that long ago. I saw my friend today and we were talking about it… I just, all these memories came back… we were all pretty close. It was very sad when it happened."
Tom simply looked at her and brushed a hand across her cheek in a comforting manner. Pulling her into a hug, she held him tightly as he ran his hands up and down her back.
After a while of standing there, he pulled away from her slightly and looked at her. "Which friend are you talking about?" He then asked.
"My friend Ron."
Hermione could have sworn she saw his jaw clench slightly at the news it was Ron who visited her. She had a rather unpleasant flashback to the night Tom caught her and Blaise after the engagement party and she had rather unceremoniously – or really drunkenly – explained Ron's romantic designs to him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it slightly to reassure him. He looked back down at her and she thought she saw a look of insecurity flash through his gaze.
"I thought you weren't talking to him." He asked rather passively.
"We weren't really…" She looked down at her feet and then back up at him. "He came to apologise actually."
Tom's face became stony at this news. "Oh," he replied. She then realised, at the sight of his expression that she needed to answer the white elephant that was currently standing in the hallway with them.
"It doesn't change anything, you know. We're talking again, but we both know that we're only good as friends – there's nothing romantic there." She wanted to soothe him. He simply arched an elegant eyebrow at her, which made her knees feel just a tiny bit weak.
"So…" He finally spoke, albeit quietly. "You haven't suddenly changed your mind about Ronald?" A small smirk suddenly appeared on his face.
She smirked right back at him and brought her arms up around his shoulders, hooking around the back of his neck. "No… you see, there is this guy named Tom…" She trailed off and bit her lip, looking up at him.
His smirk was becoming more and more pronounced. "Oh… a guy named Tom, you say?" He said as she felt him backing her up against hallway wall, his body pressing deliciously against hers.
"Yeah…"
"And what's so good about this Tom you speak of?"
"Hmm well, he's smart," she suddenly gasped as he leant down and began kissing her neck, "and incredibly good looking…" she grinned, as she felt his hands begin running up and down her body whilst he peppered kisses along her neck. "I won't say nice though…"
Tom stopped kissing her and suddenly looked into her eyes. "Is that what you want Hermione? A 'nice' guy?" She shuddered at his tone and the fact that his hands were still running rather pleasantly up and down her body. "Because I think I'm nice enough-"
Hermione couldn't stand it anymore. Grabbing his collar she pulled him back against her. "Less talk, you talk too much." She commanded. He narrowed his eyes at her. She suddenly felt a little bit uncertain and wondered if she should have said anything at all. Before she could say anything he crashed his lips against hers.
He pushed her back against the wall and Hermione moaned as he kissed her with such passion that she could barely think straight. She ran her hands through his hair and lightly tugged on it. Tom groaned into her mouth and the vibrations sent flutters to her stomach. His hands gripped her hips and then moved his hands so he could lift her up against him. He lifted her with no effort, and Hermione wrapped her legs tightly around his hips. She moaned as his hips suddenly grinded up against her core.
"I want you." He murmured into her mouth and ran his hands over her ass before grinding himself against her again.
Hermione pulled her lips away from his looked him in the eye. His pupils were completely dilated and excitement thrummed in the air. "Okay." She whispered back, looking into his eyes.
He smiled and leaned forward and began kissing her again. This time his kiss was unhurried and full of promise for what he wanted to do to her. He pulled her away from the wall and carried her towards the bedroom. Her legs tightened around his hips and she squeaked as they pushed past her bedroom door. He stopped walking and suddenly she was on the bed and he was on top of her, kissing her and running his hands over her breasts and shoulders. She moaned softly and ran her hands down to the hemline of his shirt. She began pulling his shirt up and ran her fingers along his back muscles as the material slid up his back. He growled as she pulled his shirt off and then began exploring his chest and abdomen. Hermione loved his chest. Tom was nice and lean, with a perfect amount of muscle definition in his shoulders and torso. He shivered as her nails raked along his sides and she grinned.
Her smugness disappeared and turned into need as he began trailing wet, hot kisses down her neck and she felt his hands at the waist of her jeans. She arched up as he undid them and began pulling them over her hips along with her underwear. Naked from the hips down, she felt him grin against her neck as he ran his hands back up the inside of her thighs. She backed up against the pillows and he crept up on top of her with a smug smirk on his lips.
"You know, there is just something I have been dying to see…" He said as his hands cupped and proceeded to rub her breasts, over her shirt.
"Mmm." She sighed distractedly as she felt her nipples harden against the fabric of her bra. She laid back and he kissed her passionately as his hands crept underneath her shirt. She moaned at the feeling of his cool hands roaming across her stomach. She felt his hands start to lift her shirt up and he kissed her harder. She closed her eyes in pleasure as he pulled the shirt up and she felt his skin against hers. He pulled her up to completely remove her shirt.
"You feel so good." He muttered against her lips as she felt her shirt come off. He pulled away slightly and she felt the shirt go over her head. He pushed her back on the bed and began kissing her chest and making his way down to her breasts. The anticipation was killing her! She had never felt so much want for a man before. It was like the magic inside her was singing… kind of like when she cast a really powerful spell successfully or solved a complex runes problem. She moaned as he pinched a nipple through her bra.
Feeling him sit up slightly she waited for him to begin removing her bra but after a short while of nothing happening she cracked her eyes open. Tom was frowning and looking at her stomach.
"Hermione, what the fuck is this?" He said and her stomach dropped as she realised what he was focusing on. The scar looked even more pronounced now that Tom had pointed it out. She felt his fingers run gently across it before looking back up at her with questioning eyes. Hermione dropped her head back on the pillow in a huff that the moment had been ruined. There was only one thought currently running through her mind…
Damn you Dolohov!
Argh! Dolohov the cock blocker! I wonder how he would feel, displeasing his lord ever so much at the moment (MWHAHAHAHA)... I was seriously thinking of letting them go all the way this chapter... but then I thought "How would Hermione explain her battle scars to muggle Tom?" I couldn't just leave them out...
How about Kingsley's moment? Do you think bad government procedure and secrecy be a huge downfall? Working in a large govt organisation myself, I loved watching scenes from Deathly Hallows and musing how alike the Ministry is to many actual large government organisations ;) just without the magic - but plenty of the bullshit.
Ah and Ron not being a douche! Ok, I admit I like Ron and Hermione as friends - not as lovers... so I wanted them to repair their friendship. Plus I wanted to write a bit of mush ;)
Ok, so the big part I feel nervous about is Tom's reaction to the Beedle the Bard fairytale... I tried to capture the proper time line with Hermione's notes. And also tried to imagine how an everyday human would react reading it... so I hope that's believable. I also want to just take the time and reference 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'... as I obviously referred to that quite significantly whilst writing that part.
So, please be kind and review... the lemons will probably come faster if you do ;)