Chapter Eleven: This Disease
After Tom was done stewing over Blaise's words, he made his way to look for Theo. Really, they needed to find some sort of system to communicate with each other better – Hogwarts was far too large to go traipsing through to look for someone.
Thankfully, he was positive he knew where Theo was. So, Tom made his way up the moving staircases to the seventh-floor corridor. As he walked up the stairs, his mind drifted back to Blaise. Tom was nervous; which was saying something, because Tom was hardly ever nervous. He didn't think Blaise would say anything about his discovery; which, now that he thought about it, he could easily deny. Tom had never admitted to anything, but he'd never not admitted to it, either.
His silence was incriminating and he was kicking himself for not realizing that sooner. He'd been so caught off-guard that he hadn't had adequate time to recuperate. Tom was sure that Blaise would keep his mouth shut, he usually did, but he couldn't be entirely sure. That paranoid part of him, that fight-or-flight foster boy part of him, was thinking of all the ways that it could be used against him. Perhaps he should think of a way to keep Blaise's mouth shut…
As he waited for one of the staircases to shift, he thought of Hermione again. He honestly wasn't sure if he wanted her to know anything. Tom knew that she would be appalled by the very idea of it and he couldn't entirely blame her for it. She was his sister – in a legal sense, of course. But technically, when it came down to it? She wasn't his sister.
Tom took in a shaky breath, and tried to think back to when his opinion of her had changed. At what moment, at what time, had he stopped viewing her as his sister? Truly?
Was it when he saw her arm in arm with Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball? That's when he'd labeled his intense jealousy, that was for sure.
Was it, perhaps, when she told him that she'd been asked to the ball?
Maybe it was back when they were both twelve? On that summer night, with the news of adoption still fresh on his mind, and their shared blood still fresh on their tangled fingers.
Or, perhaps, he never viewed her as his sister at all.
Tom thought back to the very first moment he saw her, all gangly and bushy haired and wild-looking, standing on the stairs. He remembered how he'd felt then, the confusion – that familiar pull of something he couldn't quite place. He remembered not knowing what to think of her then, but had refused to show it. Then, when he had touched her hand…
She had felt familiar then and it had bothered him greatly.
What kind of foster boy knew familiarity? He'd been shifted from foster home to foster home since birth. He never knew his parents, never knew his family. All he knew was the harsh reality that no one had wanted him and he'd accepted it. If no one wanted him, then he didn't want anyone else, either. He didn't need anyone else – only himself. That's what he'd told himself for most of his life, anyway.
Tom had hated her, at first. He'd been cruel to her. She'd represented everything he secretly wanted in his life, but knew he would never have. But she'd kept being…her, which made legitimately hating her difficult. She wasn't like any of the other foster siblings he'd had; she was different, he knew.
And then, he'd finally figured out why she'd been different and why he'd been inexplicably drawn toward her: it was magic. The discovery that they were both the same had been…well, enlightening.
Tom viewed them being brought together as a sign. What were the odds of two magical children in the Muggle world meeting and living underneath the same roof?
None, in his mind.
The chirping of birds brought him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the white doves perched in their globe-shaped gilded cages before heading to a painting of a country landscape hanging from the wall. Tom peered down both ends of the corridor. Once he saw that no one was there, he pulled out his wand, and waved it.
The painting parted open with a quiet creak and Tom slipped in, shutting it soundlessly behind him. He walked through the narrow passageway and he could hear bubbling liquids, licking flames, clanging equipment, followed by a slew of curse words. Tom let a quiet laugh out his nose at the sight of Theo.
There he was, rushing back and forth between all his work stations he'd rigged in the unused boys' lavatory that no one knew about. They'd found it by accident back in second year, and claimed it as theirs. Not like anyone else knew about it to lay claim to it, of course.
Tom walked into the center of the room, and continued watching in mild amusement as Theo moved from cauldron to cauldron, muttering to himself.
"No, no, no. That's not the right color. Why is it not the right color? It's supposed to be sage, not emerald," Theo mumbled to himself. He measured a spoonful of a greyish powder, and sprinkled it in the cauldron, which promptly started to boil over, sizzling out the flame underneath it. Theo jumped back and shouted, "Bloody fucking bollocks! No, no, no! That wasn't supposed to happen, either!"
Tom pulled out his wand, and decided now was the best time to make his presence known. Honestly, when Theo was in his makeshift lab, he was sure a bomb could go off and the boy wouldn't even notice.
With a swish of his wand and a few words, Tom cleaned the mess up for him.
Theo whirled around in surprise, and pushed his work goggles on top of his head. "Oh, hello, Tom. I didn't hear you come in."
"I don't think you would have, not over all that noise you were making."
Theo grinned, and rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead. The action left a trail of something dark smudged across his skin. Now that Tom was closer, he could see that Theo was a complete mess. The only clean part of his face was where his goggles had been.
"So, how did it go? Did it work?" Theo asked enthusiastically.
Tom leaned against one of the sinks that wasn't housing one of Theo's many cauldrons, and said, "It went perfectly, Theo. You're a genius at inventing new potions, really."
Theo's grin broadened at his praise.
"Will there be enough of it to keep Krum away until he leaves in June?" Tom asked.
At this, Theo's nose crinkled and he tilted his head in thought. "Until June, eh? Yeah, I'd say there should be. It only needs to be administered once every couple of weeks. Of course, this is my first time testing this potion out; so, I'm not sure if he'll build a tolerance to it. It's entirely possible, but I'm sure I can create a more concentrated version of the potion -"
"Theo, you're rambling again. Short answer, please," Tom interjected.
"Uh, right. Sorry about that. Anyway, the short answer is 'yes'. There should be enough to last until June; if not, I can just make more."
Tom pushed himself off the sink, and walked over to the potion in question. There were several vials of it bottled on the shelf. He picked one of them up, and read the label Theo put on it. His eyebrows raised up in mild surprise.
"Unattraction Potion?" Tom asked, gently waving the bottle back and forth to get Theo's attention. "Not very original, is it?"
Theo shrugged, and continued stirring the potion he was working on. "Nah, not really. I figured it was simple enough. You can rename it, if you want."
Tom's mouth downturned at the idea and he set it back on the shelf. "No, that's quite alright. It's your potion, after all."
Theo hummed noncommittally in response to Tom's words, then he asked, "Oh, are you able to get more of Hermione's hair for me? I accidentally set the strands you gave me too close to the flames, so they burned up."
Tom gave him a withering look. "Seriously, Theo?"
"What?" he asked, somewhat indignant. "I didn't mean to, but I'll need more if you want the potion to work properly."
Tom sighed. "Fine. When will you need it by?"
"Hmm…the sooner, the better, honestly. But next week should be fine."
"Alright. I'll get it to you by next week."
Theo grinned at him. "Perfect."
Even though Hermione had told Tom that she was being silly for being so upset over what happened with Viktor, and reassured him that she really was fine, the truth of the matter was, she wasn't. Not completely, anyway. She'd really liked Viktor, and couldn't for the life of her figure out where it had gone wrong. It couldn't just be because of her blood status, because he knew she was a Muggleborn beforehand. They had gotten along perfectly fine and he always acted like he was interested in what she was saying. The boy had seemed content to just sit there and watch her study, for God's sake.
The abruptness of it all was rather jarring, she supposed. Hermione didn't like not understanding something, so it was only natural that she wanted to understand where things went wrong.
Unfortunately, she was far too embarrassed to approach Viktor, and ask him about it. She was also afraid of feeling rejected again. What made things worse is that he was so nice when he broke up with her. He was all, I'm so sorry, Hermy-own-ninny. You are such a nice girl, Hermy-own-ninny. It's not you, it's me, Hermy-own-ninny.
It made it somewhat difficult to be angry with him; which, she was angry with him, of course. Another thing that made the whole situation difficult was the fact that Viktor's little fan club sent cruel looks and jabs her way after he broke up with her, as if it were entirely her fault.
Bloody brainless girls. You'd think they'd be happier that she wasn't with him anymore.
Hermione threw herself back against the armchair she was sitting in and groaned. Crookshanks took the opportunity to jump into her lap, and comfort her in the only way he knew how.
"What's wrong, Hermione?" Ginny asked.
Hermione brought her head back up to look at the girl sitting on the sofa across from her, and absently pet the orange fluff of fur in her lap. Harry and Ron had glanced up from their parchment to look at her.
She sighed and said, "Nothing. I'm just over all this tournament business. I can't wait until things go back to normal."
"Why? The tournament has been the most entertaining thing to happen at Hogwarts in years," Ron said, and grunted when his little sister gave him a swift jab to his ribs. "Ow! What was that for?"
"For being dense," she responded.
"Hermione, just forget about that git, alright? You deserve better than that," Harry told her, which made Hermione smile sadly. "Hey, I know! How about we do something fun this weekend?"
"Like what?" Hermione asked, "I'm not quite sure I'm in the mood to do anything…"
"Oh, come off it, Hermione! Isn't there a Hogsmeade trip this weekend?" Ron asked.
"You're right, Ronald. I think there is. We should all go together – do something fun. The snow is gone now, so it'll be perfect weather," Ginny added optimistically.
"How about we go get ice cream? My treat," Harry added.
Hermione groaned, and threw herself back against the cushion again. As fun as it all sounded, she wasn't sure if she was in the mood to do those things. And what if she saw Viktor? She wasn't sure if she could handle the embarrassment of seeing him again so soon. It was bad enough seeing him in the Great Hall, but there were enough bodies around to help put distance between them. If they ran into him at Hogsmeade…not so much.
"You know," Harry said in a sly tone, "We could always visit the book store…"
Her head shot up to look at him.
Harry smirked at her in triumph. "I'll buy you a book if you come."
She scowled at him. "That's incredibly sneaky of you, Harry Potter."
He grinned at her. "So, is that a yes?"
She pouted and grumbled, "Fine. But I get to pick out any book I want!"
"Me, too!" added Ginny.
"Wait, what?" Harry looked at Ginny in confusion.
"Wait, what about me?" Ron asked indignantly.
"Oh, shut up, Ronald. It's not like you enjoy reading," Ginny said sarcastically.
At first, Ron had looked offended, but then he'd accepted what she said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point there."
Hermione couldn't help herself, and smiled, despite her terrible mood. Her friends always made everything better.
Going to Hogsmeade with her friends had been a good idea, in the end. They'd kept her so distracted that she'd barely thought of Viktor at all.
It was still a little chilly out, even though it was in the middle of April. They'd decided to still have ice cream, anyway, and just got some hot chocolate to warm up afterward.
Hermione found herself rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet impatiently.
"Merlin, don't worry, Hermione. The book shop isn't going to get up and walk away," Ginny joked.
"Oh, shush. I'm just excited," Hermione said half-heartedly.
Ginny grinned at her, and looped an arm through hers. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to look for the most expensive book there is," she whispered conspiratorially.
"Ginny," she warned.
"What? I was only joking!"
Hermione hummed sarcastically.
"I really was," Ginny pouted.
Hermione was about ready to tell her that she was full of it, but Harry and Ron finally showed up.
"Alright, bill is paid. Ready?" Harry asked.
"Yes, sir!" Hermione grinned.
They made their way into Tomes and Scrolls and the musical twang of the bell hanging over the door sounded their arrival. The girls split up, both intent on finding a book that interested them. Ginny, of course, headed toward the sporting section and the boys followed behind her. Hermione rolled her eyes. Ginny was the girliest tomboy that she had ever known.
Hermione pursed her lips in thought, trying to decide which topic she wanted to search in. She'd been struggling a bit in Defence Against the Dark Arts more than she'd like to admit; so, maybe something in that topic? She wandered down the stuffed rows toward the back of the store, intent on finding something of interest.
After around ten minutes of perusing the shelves, she finally found something. Dark & Dangerous Creatures Through the Ages. It wasn't much, but it was definitely informative. There were creatures in the book that she hadn't even heard of before.
As she made her way to the front of the store, she couldn't stop an excited grin from forming on her face. She couldn't wait to show the book to Tom; she knew that he would love it. He was all about the darker stuff in the wizarding world, after all.
"Finally! We were beginning to think you'd gotten lost," Ron said.
Hermione frowned slightly. "We've only been here for maybe fifteen minutes, Ronald."
He scratched behind his ear and said, "Yeah, well, it feels like it's been a lot longer than that."
"Oh, stop being so selfish," Ginny nudged him as she walked by, carrying a somewhat large book. Something about Quidditch, Hermione was certain. She slammed it down on the counter, which earned a stern look from the shop employee, and grinned up at Harry. "I'm ready when you are!"
Harry ran a hand through his wild hair. "Merlin, I'm beginning to regret this," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that, Harry?" Ginny asked.
"Nothing! I didn't say anything," he said as he dug through his pockets to fish out his money, and paid for their books.
Shortly after leaving Tomes and Scrolls, Hermione spotted her brother with his friends. She grinned, looked down at her book excitedly, then looked back up at him again. She hurried over to him and shouted, "Hey, Tom!"
Tom turned his head to look in her direction. His brows raised when his eyes landed on her and he began to smile. His smile and eyebrows suddenly fell when his gaze traveled over her shoulder. Hermione halted mid-step, and turned her head to glance behind her. Harry, Ron, and Ginny were standing behind her. She looked back at Tom, and frowned in thought. Was he seriously being moody because her friends were nearby?
Choosing to ignore his change in demeanor in favor of her excitement, she held out the book to him and said, "Look at this book, Tom."
Tom looked back down at her curiously with a raised eyebrow, and took it from her. He flipped it over in his hands and asked amusedly, "Dark & Dangerous Creatures Through the Ages? Is it any good?"
"I only just got it; so, I haven't had a chance to look through it yet."
He tested the weight of it in his hand. "This looks expensive, Hermione. Did you already blow through the money Mum and Dad just sent us?"
She blinked in confusion. "What? No. Harry just bought it for me."
Tom froze. He suddenly outstretched his hand to return the book to her. "Oh? Is that so?" he asked in mock interest.
"Uh…yes?" she half-asked, and carefully took the book back from Tom. Tom glared at Harry.
"Krum only dropped her a few weeks ago and you're already trying to swoop in to save the day, huh, Potter?" he sneered hatefully.
Harry looked equal parts confused and annoyed. "What? No. I was only trying to cheer her up-"
Ginny butt in, and waved her book in his face mockingly. "He bought me a book, too, Riddle. Does that mean he's interested in me, too?"
Tom ignored Ginny, and stepped up to Harry. Tom practically towered over him, but he still stood his ground. Tom spoke so quietly, so dangerously, that Hermione barely caught his words. "I swear to God, Potter, if you even think about touching her, I'll break your fingers one…by…one."
That was it.
Hermione felt absolutely livid. She handed her book to a wide-eyed Ginny, who hastily took it without a word. Then, she grabbed Tom's wrist and bit out an, "Excuse us, please."
No one said anything as she dragged Tom over to a small alley in between the book store and the shop next door. Once they got to the alley, he yanked his wrist out of her grasp.
"I'm not a child, you know," he said coldly.
Hermione waved her wand and cast a quick Muffliato charm. She turned on him and said crossly, "Are you sure about that? Could have fooled me."
Tom didn't say anything; he just shoved his clenched fists into his pockets, and glared down at her.
Hermione closed her eyes, rubbed her forehead with her fingers, and sighed tiredly. "What in the world is the matter with you, Tom? What you said back there was completely out of line."
"Are you sure about that?" he mimicked bitterly.
Her eyes snapped open at him, and scowled. "I know you don't like Harry, but he's my friend, Tom. One of my best friends. I don't particularly care for your friends, either, but I don't go around saying rude things to them."
The scowl left Tom's face and he shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "You could, you know. I wouldn't mind."
Hermione groaned out a quiet, "Oh, my God,", threw her head back to look at the beautiful sky, and silently prayed for patience. She slowly inhaled, then looked back at him again. He was angry – she knew he was. Well, he wasn't the only one.
"I don't understand why you're so upset. It's just a book."
Tom inhaled deeply through his nostrils and tactfully said, "I just don't want to see you…upset so soon after…him."
Hermione felt her scowl soften in mild shock. "You…you seriously think that Harry is…interested in me? In that way?"
He said nothing, but the way his jaw clenched was all the answer she needed. She couldn't help herself – really, she couldn't. Before she realized what was happening, she began to laugh. Tom looked somewhat shocked, but then scowled at her again.
"It's not funny," he admonished.
"I'm – I'm sorry, but it kind of is," she said in between her giggles. Once she calmed down, she spoke, "I do not view Harry in that way, at all. He's my friend."
He still had his cold gaze leveled on her. Hermione grinned up at him and said, "Oh, stop looking at me like that, Tom."
His lips formed in an almost-pout and he continued to look at her, the scowl not leaving his face. "No."
"You're acting like a child again."
"I am not."
"Yes, you are," she told him in a sing-song voice.
The corner of his mouth twitched in an almost-smile, but he tried to hide it. "Shut up."
"Never," she grinned.
A small smile started to form on his face. "You're a brat," he said half-heartedly.
"If I'm a brat, then so are you," she mimicked his words from weeks ago.
They looked at each other with the same half-smirk on their faces for a few moments. For some reason, Hermione thought of everything her brother had done for her; how he'd protected her in his own way (which she didn't completely agree with his tactics), how he'd always been there for her whenever she was upset. She thought about how little their television was used at home, because they'd preferred to read to each other, instead. She thought about all the times they'd go exploring in the woods in their backyard together. She thought about how he always made time just for her to meet at the library every weekend.
She didn't realize until now how grateful she was that Tom was in her life and she'd never really told him so.
And, before she knew what she was doing, she'd told him so with a hug and the words, "I love you, Tom."
He stiffened in her embrace, and didn't return it. She grinned to herself at his obvious discomfort. "I – uh…" he trailed off uneasily.
She removed herself from the one-sided hug, and told him, "It's okay. You don't have to say it back," she smiled mischievously. "I know how you are. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate having you as my brother. That's all."
Tom stared at her quietly for several moments, his dark eyes leveled on her. He seemed to shake himself, and visibly relaxed then. He grinned roguishly and said, "Well…I guess I'm rather amazing, aren't I?"
Hermione's face turned warm and she half-heartedly shoved his shoulder. "Oh, shut up, you arse! I was trying to be all sentimental, and then you go and ruin it!"
"I mean, you should know better by now, really."
She rolled her eyes and huffed, "You're right; I guess I should. So, are you better now, then?"
Tom gave her a withering look and raised his eyebrow. "I was fine to begin with."
She huffed indignantly, "Liar."
Tom smirked down at her. "Maybe a little bit."
"You still need to apologize to Harry."
"Fat chance."
"Tom," she warned.
"Hermione," he mimicked her tone.
"You're impossible! What am I supposed to tell them now?" she asked.
He shrugged, and made to leave. "Don't know, don't care."
She let out a frustrated groan, and followed him.
She'd had to make up excuses for his horrible behavior again later that day.
She always did.
He was her brother.
And she loved him.
So, of course she would always protect him.
Even when he was wrong.
Tom couldn't sleep. He was sure it was well into the early morning hours at this point, but no matter what he did – no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sleep. Her words kept revolving over and over again in his head, haunting him.
I love you, Tom.
That's what she'd told him earlier. Their parents had said it to him often, but Hermione had never said it before. She hadn't really needed to, though. He already knew she cared about him, but to hear it for himself…
He'd wanted to kiss her then. He wanted to kiss her, and not in the innocent way Krum had. He'd wanted to erase all evidence of the other boy, until it was him, him, only him that she thought of. He'd wanted to push her up against the brick wall and grasp at her hips and dig his fingers into her waist and pull at her curls. He'd wanted her to do the same to him. Oh, how he'd wanted to; and oh, how it physically hurt him that he couldn't.
He couldn't do it, because he knew she'd hate him if he did it.
Tom rolled over onto his side, and slid his hand underneath the cool side of his pillow. He stared into the pitch blackness that was his bed curtains. It felt different when she said those words to him. It held more weight for him – it felt heavier. Her words pressed him further and deeper into his mattress - further and deeper into the recesses of his own head. It kept him trapped there. The thoughts were climbing at the back of his mind, and spreading through him like a disease – this disease was one he never wanted to be cured of.
Infect me, pollute me, contaminate me.
One thought he had, the fact that Hermione didn't mean her words in the way he wanted her to mean them, left him feeling a whole new level of emotions. He felt bitter and he felt frustrated and he felt angry and he felt…oddly confident.
He knew that she would say the words, and mean them in the way he wanted…one day.
He knew that she would.
He already knew that he was everything that she wanted.
He already knew that he was everything that she needed.
And…he would show her.
He would prove it.
A/N: Okay, I don't know about the rest of you, but my favorite part was when Tom tl;dr Theo when he started rambling about his potions. I KNOW there were probably like TEN other things in here that I should love more, but that one was it. Anyway, thanks to my fishies Radiant Innocence, VinoAmore, and Chaco for helping me.
And THANKS TO ALL OF YOU OMG. I'm sure most of you know that I've fallen in love with writing this story, but all the support and encouragement from you guys have helped tremendously. SO I THANK YOU GOOD SIRS/MA'AMS/PERSONS.
Also, if you celebrate it, Happy Thanksgiving! ILY BABY BOOS
