Disclaimer: Not mine. But you knew that already.
What matter though numb nightmare ride on top,
And blood and mire the sensitive body stain?
What matter? Heave no sigh, let no tear drop,
A greater, more gracious time has gone
- The Gyres, W.B. Yeats
When Hermione began to shiver in his embrace, he pulled back to examine her. "Alright?" he asked, seriously. She avoided his eyes studiously and he sighed, tilting her chin gently and forcing her to meet his gaze. "Ok?" he repeated, and she nodded.
She was a pitiful sight with tear tracks running down her face, blotchy red spots on her cheeks, and red rimmed eyes. "Yeah," she whispered. He tightened his grip on her for a brief moment and then released her completely.
"Good," he said as he held out his arm for her to take, "Let's get you inside and warmed up then." She hesitated but took his arm gently when he stared at her expectantly and they started the long walk back to the manor.
Now that he'd found and retrieved her safely, his thoughts returned to what Abraxas had told him about Dolohov, and the rage that had dissipated upon finding her, reawakened in his gut. "No one's been giving you any trouble, have they?" he asked quietly. She stiffened slightly beside him but shook her head. He stopped abruptly to grip her shoulders tightly. Her eyes widened with fresh terror and he sighed as he loosened his grip, letting his hands slide down her arms slightly. "You're a horrible liar," he said.
She averted her eyes, flinching. "'M not lying," she murmured quietly.
"Hermione," he sighed, watching her tense at the flat tone of his voice, "Who bothered you? Abraxas?"
Her eyes flew up to meet his so quickly he almost laughed. "Not Abraxas," she said vehemently, "He didn't do anything. D—"
He pressed a finger to her lips to stop her babbling. "Who?" he asked simply.
She bit her lip as he sighed again. "Abraxas told me," he said, "Who, Hermione?"
"Why do I have to tell you if you already know?" she retorted. Her hand rubbed between her breasts unconsciously; a nervous tic he'd noticed she had when Dolohov was nearby or mentioned. He sighed again, wondering why she was being so difficult. It wasn't even as if he was angry with her – he knew she knew better than to cross him. His friends, on the other hand, were another story, although most of them had a healthy respect for him.
"Because I want to hear it from you," he said, controlling his voice carefully. Dolohov had always been a pervert and had an unfortunate habit of inappropriate advances on other blokes' girls. However, he'd thought that his friends' wariness of him would deter any advances on his new toy.
"I—" she sighed noisily through her nose. "Fine. Dolohov cornered me in the library yesterday. He made a couple of advances and, when I refused to play along, he pinned me against a bookcase and…" He watched her steel herself before she continued. "I-if Abraxas hadn't come along when he did, I don't know what would have happened," she choked out. Tears were leaking out the corners of her eyes again but she brushed them away furiously.
Tom bristled angrily. Mine, he thought looking at her. How dare Dolohov think he could touch her without permission. He startled as Hermione pulled on his sleeve. She was shivering against the chill in the air as the sun crept to the height of its arc. "Tom," she whispered, "Can we go in now? Please?"
He shook his head, "Sorry," he whispered, drawing her closer for a moment to warm her against his body heat, "One more thing." He stilled the hand that continued worrying at her chest and she went completely still. "What did he do to you in your past?"
She drew back as far as he would let her and examined his face carefully. "Did Abraxas tell you?" she asked, a hint of anger in her eyes at the thought.
"No," he said, "He didn't. It's kind of obvious though." He rubbed a thumb over a knuckle on the hand he held and she drew in a sharp breath.
"Of course," she breathed. She fidgeted slightly, and then shifted so her face was buried against his shoulder.
"Hermione," he said sharply and she chuckled weakly.
"I keep forgetting you're all Slytherins and see everything," she mumbled. There was a paused as she composed herself and drew back to look at him. "In fifth year," she said shakily, "We – Harry, Ron and I, as well as a few others – visited the Department of Mysteries because Harry thought you had captured his godfather, and that you were torturing him there because of a dream you'd sent him through the piece of soul in his scar." He itched to know what he'd wanted from the Department of Mysteries that he couldn't go and get himself but let her continue without interruption.
"You weren't… It was a set-up to get something you wanted from there… and a group of Death Eaters ambushed us. One of them was Dolohov. We were evenly numbered, but we didn't have the same amount of experience so we were overmatched and got separated as we tried to escape. Dolohov followed Harry, Neville, and I. We got him with a silencing spell and then…" She choked slightly as she remembered, "Before we could neutralize him… he made a slashing gesture with his wand…"
Her hand travelled the path Dolohov's wand had taken and Tom watched transfixed. "And… and… purple light emitted from the end… He got me in the chest… and it was… agony… I don't remember much after that. I'm pretty sure I was in and out of unconsciousness. The next time I was really aware… I was back in the Hospital Wing and taking about twenty different potions a day for a month. And it still hurts occasionally… I have a purple scar where it hit me…"
Tom was silent as she shuddered against tears. "Madam Pomfrey said I should have died… That if he'd been… been able to say the incantation aloud… I would be… and I think… every… day… what if we hadn't managed to silence him… before…"
Tom pulled her closer, furious that in the timeline she'd come from he obviously hadn't recognized her brilliance. Of course, his crusade had been based on blood prejudice and she would have been young enough to be his granddaughter and he'd apparently been insane by that point. But he had her now and he wasn't about to let her go for anything. He would possess her, no matter what it took. And it that meant neutralizing any number of threats when he got her safely tucked away in his rooms back at the manor, so be it.
After a long moment of silence, she wiped her eyes and looked up at him again. "Can we go in now?" she asked quietly.
He nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak, and they completed the rest of the walk in silence. He escorted her to his rooms and silenced her protests with a look before he warded her in to go deal with Dolohov.
HG*TR
"I want Dolohov," Tom snarled at Abraxas as he stalked past after depositing Hermione in his suite. "Now."
Abraxas flinched at his tone and nodded. "I'll find him," he said, getting up to leave. At the door to the study, he glanced back at Tom standing by the window, raking his hands through his hair angrily. "Hermione?" he asked and Tom glanced at him, some of the anger draining away at the question.
"Fine," he said shortly and Abraxas breathed a sigh of relief, "In my rooms. I found her at the end of the Manor's drive."
Abraxas nodded. "Good," he said simply, "I'll be right back with Dolohov."
HG*TR
Tom smiled coldly as Dolohov knocked on the door. The brawny man looked calm and collected, his dark hair tousled attractively and he grinned at his Lord. "You wished to see me, my Lord?" he murmured, bowing his head in acknowledgement. Abraxas appeared in the doorway behind him and Tom nodded in recognition. He wanted the blond here to help.
"Ah, yes," he said motioning Dolohov forward, "Abraxas was telling me a delightful story about you and Hermione in the library the other day."
"My Lord?" Dolohov swallowed uncomfortably, and paled considerably. His easy smile fell off his face and his blue eyes hardened. "I wouldn't know what Abraxas was referring to."
"Wouldn't you?" Tom murmured, gesturing for Abraxas to come into the room. As the door shut behind Abraxas, he murmured, "Abraxas?"
Abraxas smiled thinly. "Antonin," he said, "You're telling me you don't remember your conversation with my dear cousin in the library yesterday? The one where she had to tell you to remove your hands from her person."
"I—" Dolohov licked his lips anxiously as his eyes darted around the room looking for an escape, "I remember it more as a seduction on her part."
Tom raised a curious brow and glanced at Abraxas. "That's not what she told me happened," he murmured, twirling his wand delicately in his hand. Dolohov watched the motion with growing fear and beads of sweat began to form on his brow. "Is that what she told you happened, Abraxas?" he asked.
"No, my Lord," Abraxas said.
"That bitch lied to you both," Dolohov hissed, his fingers clenching into fists, as Tom and Abraxas watched him coolly.
"Watch your tongue, Antonin," Tom tsked, "Or Abraxas will have to defend his cousins honour."
"That whore? Abraxas' cousin?" Dolohov laughed, abandoning any pretense of respect, "Please. I know you forged her papers."
"Crucio," Tom hissed, watching in satisfaction as the dark-haired man collapsed to the floor screaming. "What was that, Antonin?" he murmured as he released the curse.
"She's a fucking mudblood whore," Dolohov gasped, pulling himself upright and glaring at Tom, "And if you kept a shorter leash on her and let other entertainment into the Manor, I wouldn't have to stoop to entertaining myself with the filthy mudblood."
"Maybe, you haven't figured out how friendship with Tom works," Abraxas said, stepping around the man's prone figure to Tom's side. "He tolerates you, allows you to bask in his power, and you do what he says, when he says to do it. And if you're useful, then you may be rewarded for your efforts. If not…"
"I don't fucking need Tom to get power," Dolohov snarled, "Unlike him, I'm not a filthy halfblood. I'm a pureblood with a distinguished lineage going back centuries." Tom repressed the icy shiver that ran down his back. He could dismiss Dolohov's insult of Hermione's lineage as merely a way to provoke him and Abraxas, but he didn't think anyone except Hermione knew about his lineage given how carefully he'd buried it.
Tom laughed. "You think that means anything outside the bigotry of Pureblood society?" he asked.
"I know it does," Dolohov hissed.
"You poor, poor fool," Tom chuckled. He gestured to Abraxas. "Abraxas, if you would?"
Dolohov writhed as Abraxas' torture curse ripped through him. When he could no longer scream, Tom gestured for Abraxas to stop and waved his wand so the man rose up to hang before his face. "How did you find out?" he breathed, "How do you know about my parentage?"
Dolohov chuckled hoarsely. "You don't remember Tom?" he rasped, "I was in the meeting room that night. Got there just before she appeared and had settled into one of alcoves for a nap while you talked with Thoros and Abraxas. Her appearance piqued my interest so I eavesdropped on the two of you the next morning after she woke up from a nightmare." Now that he'd been reminded of it, Tom did remember that Dolohov had arrived early and disappeared into on of the alcoves. Tom felt his face drain of colour as he remembered the conversation he'd had with Hermione that night and the morning after. There were things they'd discussed that he didn't want anyone to know the details of.
"Who else?" he whispered, "Who else did you tell?"
"No one," Dolohov said, "Was waiting for the right moment to blackmail you." Tom made eye contact with the mutinous Dolohov and reached into his mind, tearing out the information he wanted, relishing in the discomfort he caused the man as he did so. He relaxed slightly when he discovered that Dolohov was telling the truth.
"Did you actually think blackmailing me would work?" he breathed in the man's ear.
"If I had the girl," Dolohov choked out. Tom nodded. Of course, that would be his plan. He stepped back again and let Dolohov drop to the ground with a thud.
"Obliviate," he hissed, ripping out everything Dolohov had learned that night. He'd keep the bastard alive for now, but only because he thought Hermione would be suspicious if Dolohov disappeared so suddenly after he'd learned about his advances on her.
"Abraxas," he murmured, "Another hour of this, I think. Then you can toss the bastard in the cellar for the night." He tossed a disgusted look at the wizard cowering on the floor. "You're only still alive right now because I want to get on Hermione's good side," he whispered, kneeling beside him, "I warn you though, look at or touch her inappropriately again and that's it. Your last chance."
Abraxas nodded and Tom left the room without another word. He heard the rasp of Dolohov's screams start up again before he silenced the door to the study and made his way back up to his suite.