Getting Through Tomorrow
Chapter 10: The Thirst
Hermione awoke with a start and clawed at the locket smoldering against her heaving chest. Wrapping it in a bit of cloth, she shoved it into the bottom of her bag. Harry wasn't fit to wear it, and she needed to get it out of her sight. She literally tore out bits of her wild hair in frustration. How could she have let herself fall asleep without taking Dreamless Sleep Potion? She had only meant to rest for a moment. Harry had needed her to tend his wounds. He still needed her.
Harry was still asleep, and she quickly prepared more damp cloths when she noticed that he still hadn't overcome the fever. She cried silently as Harry started yelling in his sleep again. She suspected that Voldemort was torturing him on purpose as payback for her leaving him without an answer.
The minutes passed excruciatingly slow with Harry talking in his sleep, and Hermione blamed herself. She hugged her knees to her chest and watched Harry for signs of improvement. He suddenly moaned loudly in obvious pain. Hermione did all that she could to make him as comfortable as possible. Harry finally regained consciousness just before dawn.
HG***************LV
Hermione tried to make Harry feel better about his broken wand by bringing him tea during his turn standing guard outside of the tent, but he made it very clear to her that he wanted to be left alone. Because of their recent discoveries about Dumbledore, Harry was especially harsh with her.
Harry didn't want her company, and that was a huge problem for Hermione because she was terrified of being alone. She particularly didn't want to be left alone with her ambivalent thoughts of Voldemort, who actually did want her company. More than ever, Hermione craved contact with another soul, but she feared that Harry was slipping away from her just as Ron had done.
Voldemort had been right about her. She had an itch to scratch, and ignoring it was only making the desire more intense. Her heartbeat accelerated as her excitement grew. She imagined a frantic voice whispering her name, and the Horcrux inside of her handbag started to flicker in time with her pulse. She wanted to be filled. Her focus was dwindling. She needed to feel his power again.
She rummaged through her handbag until she came across the book that he had sent her. All she had to do was open the cover and place her palm on the first page. She told herself that it would only take a moment's courage to do so, and she could be back in plenty of time to take Harry's place outside.
Harry wouldn't leave his post until she showed up to relieve him, so her main concern was that she didn't have a wand since Harry was using hers. She knew in her heart that Voldemort wouldn't harm her, and she could clutch the Portkey close to her body and be prepared to travel back at any sign of danger.
She could feel her nerve slipping. She placed her thumb under the book's cover, but she hesitated to throw it open.
A piece of torn parchment slipped from between the book's worn pages and drifted into Hermione's lap. She recognized the precise handwriting. It said, "Are you brave enough to take what you really desire, my lovely Gryffindor?"
The instant after her eyes swept across the parchment, she clinched her eyes shut, sucked in a quick breath, and flipped open the cover. She was gone as the sound of her hand slapping onto the page echoed throughout the empty tent.
HG***************LV
Voldemort's eyes were closed while he savored the earthy taste of Firewhisky, and the feel of it warming his throat lulled him into a cheap comfort. His eyes flew open at a muffled sound paired with a gust of cool air, and standing before him where there had been empty space only a second before was Hermione Granger. The sound of his glass tumbler hitting the floor jarred him from the temporary shock of seeing her in the flesh.
Hermione jumped back as the glass shattered at her feet. She couldn't read the emotions flitting across Voldemort's face, but the intensity of his gaze frightened her into reopening the book. She had made a terrible mistake in activating the Portkey. A shiver ran through her fingers as they quickly neared the page, but her guarded eyes remained focused on the man in front of her. He spoke, and her anxious hand halted and hovered above the book.
"Please stay."
She shook her head. "I thought I could do this, but I can't. Nothing short of an Unbreakable Vow could make me comfortable enough to stay."
With a heavy sigh, Voldemort reached for his wand and said, "That's not possible, Hermione. We don't have a Bonder. I can't risk anyone seeing you here. You know that."
At the sight of his wand, Hermione tensed and prepared to reactivate the Portkey. "Goodbye, Tom."
"Wait, Hermione. I'm not done speaking."
She rocked back on her heals, but she eyed him questioningly and waited.
He said, "I'm willing to make a Wand Accord with you. I'm sure you know that such an agreement could prevent my magic from harming you or using force against you."
"I also know that the wizard making the contract has the advantage, and since my hands are full at the moment and your wand is already drawn . . . I appear to be at a disadvantage."
Voldemort did something that left Hermione speechless with confusion and awe. He willingly presented his wand to her in the palms of both of his hands. She could do nothing except stare at his outstretched arms and the powerful wand that was simply lying there harmless to her. A desperate voice in her mind was screaming for her to take the wand before it was too late, but she was too numb with disbelief to move her body. It was difficult enough for her to make her eyes scan the scene for an explanation of his odd behavior, but she found one.
The bottle of Firewhisky beside his chair was nearly spent, and the man before her seemed to be emitting the heavy aroma of the strong drink.
"You've been drinking."
"Yes."
She didn't feel like his simple and trancelike answer was an appropriate response to her statement, so she said, "Is that all you have to say? You're completely smashed!"
In those moments, her mood changed from a flattered sort of wondrous confusion to annoyance. She didn't know why his impaired state of mind bothered her so much because it was surely an advantage, but there was something unsettling about him not being himself with her. Clarity came with her feeling of annoyance, and she snatched the wand from his yielding hands.
Voldemort didn't react to her sudden show of attitude. He only whispered, "You know the spell, Hermione. Get on with it."
As she recited a series of incantations, his wand produced an azure light. Using the dark wand was difficult for her. She felt a pain in her soul, but it was a pain that she began to enjoy as she completed the spell. She took his hand and said, "I, Hermione Jean Granger, bind you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, to a Wand Accord. You will not harm me in any way. You will not force me to stay here. You will not force me to do anything against my will. You will not seek information from me that I do not wish to give. In turn, I will show you the same respect. My magic shall seal this contract until midnight. Will you accept?"
He squeezed her hand and clearly stated, "I will."
The azure light engulfed both of them before fading to black. Hermione felt the power of his wand pulsing through her body, and she found it strangely erotic. Their hands were still clasped, and Hermione was reveling in the feel of his skin. She could no longer endure the awkward but agonizing distance between them, so she took his face in her hands.
His pale cheeks were smooth, and she caressed them while studying his deformed face. He had no wrinkles and his skin felt so soft and good in her hands. His eyes were piercing, and she found them quite stunning even though the red glint in them was pure evil. They weren't as distorted as people gossiped that they were, but his nose was completely mutated. She traced a finger over it. His lips were very thin, but they were there. She wanted to kiss them.
He didn't realize that she was looking at his true image until she started scrutinizing his nose. She was already attempting to kiss his strange lips when he pushed her back long enough to magically alter his image.
As she once again moved her lips closer to his, she said, "You didn't have to do that."
"I didn't do it for you. The way you were looking at me was unnerving."
All she could see was her Tom. She was afraid that she'd stop breathing if he denied her any longer. "I can't help it if I find you fascinating. Kiss me before I die of desire."
"Take what you want, Hermione."
Her only reply was a hungry kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself flush with his body. When he lifted her into his arms, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Without opening her eyes, she knew that he was taking her to his bed. Her heart fluttered with excitement, and she raked her nails down his back. Suddenly realizing that he was wearing far too many clothes, she freed his heavy black robe from his shoulders. Before it even hit the floor, she was working on unbuttoning his shirt. All she knew was that she wanted more.
He didn't bother with buttons. Easily ripping her blouse from her supple body, he brought his smooth hands and his warm mouth to her chest. He smiled against her skin when she moaned and fell back on the bed. He fell with her, dragging them both completely onto the mattress. He could feel her delicate hands coaxing him to continue by pressing his head between her bare breasts and rubbing his dark hair. As he worshipped her beautiful body, he became aware that she was using her thighs to push down his trousers.
He looked up into her ravenous eyes. "Slow down, Hermione."
"You told me to take what I want. Have you had too much to drink to . . . perform?"
He dropped his head to her shoulder while chuckling darkly. Turning his lips to her ear, he kissed her there and said, "Don't insult me, witch. It's not my fault that you've never been properly appreciated by whichever boys have had you before me." He was slowly unbuttoning her denims. "I can have you quaking with more pleasure than you've ever felt with anyone else by using only my hands, so just be patient and enjoy it. By the time we get to the main event, you will never want to leave my bed."
Hermione shivered in anticipation, but fixed him with a look of defiance and said, "But I will leave."
He pulled her into a rough embrace and claimed her lips with his. He was sure that he'd never tasted anything so sweet as her. He took his time savoring every bit of her while her vocal expressions of bliss filled him with smug satisfaction.
She had never before felt such ecstasy. It wasn't only his body consuming hers. His unrestrained magic caressed every bit of her bare skin. The magic quickened her sensitivity and intensified her release. In the throes of passion, she found herself wishing more and more that she didn't have to leave. She never wanted to leave Tom. She would never want anyone like she wanted him.
Their passionate lovemaking was a relief to Hermione because it was also tender. In her dreams, she had liked him to be rough with her. She had occasionally been borderline abusive to him as well. There was a huge difference between what she liked to fantasize about and what she really wanted in the bedroom, and it surprised her that Tom knew. He seemed to know better than her what she really wanted.
They lounged together in peaceful silence for a long while before he summoned the bottle of Firewhisky from across the room.
Hermione sounded hurt when she asked, "Are you alright?"
"I'm more than alright. I'm perfect. Why do you ask?"
"You still need the bottle?"
"If I drink the rest of this, I'll likely sleep through your departure."
Hermione understood. She placed her arms around him, rested her head on his torso, and enjoyed the afterglow.
He wrapped a strand of her curly hair around his index finger and studied it. "If I die, you will care."
She knew that it was the drink talking as he never spoke of losing the war, but she answered him honestly anyway. "But, I won't stop it. I once read a book about an angel and a demon. They were in love, but they knew that they'd face each other in the next war over Heaven and that one of them might perish. I hadn't thought of it in years until just now. I must watch you die, Tom."
"Yes, but you will truly care about my death as your family and friends will care about your death. The world will remember my legacy, but you will remember me. Wizards will speak of my great and terrible deeds, but you alone will speak to me when you visit my final resting place."
"Yes, I will, and that's how you'll live forever."
That's what he wanted to hear, and she knew it. She was glad to be there with him. She knew that her appearance through the Portkey had interrupted some sort of pity party, and she wanted to be there for him because she did care.
He surprised her when he said, "Thank you."
He felt Hermione pressing her gorgeous body against him. She thanked him in return just before he descended into a deep sleep.
Stifling a yawn, she realized that she could still get an hour of sleep in her bunk if she left immediately. She was ready. It was time for her to focus on the mission. She dressed quickly, gave her lover a lingering last look, and left.