Chapter 11

Tom cocked his head and studied the girl before him. Without a doubt, this was the rampaging klutz who landed on him yesterday. Fate seemed to be on his side today he thought bemusedly, he'd now have a chance to repay the favour. He raised one eyebrow as the girl bristled at the sight of him and turned towards Dumbledore. Dumbledore merely turned and smiled out of the window absently. She turned to Mrs. Cole and looked up at her slyly.

"Mrs. Cole? Wouldn't it be better if I could share a room with a girl? There would be less talk flying about I'm sure," she trailed off, in what Tom thought was a desperate and pitiful attempt.

"If that were possible I assure you it would have happened. Tom is the only one without a roommate; already many have three or four to a room." She turned towards Tom and barked, "Well? Don't just stand there, get her bags. Put them in your room, I'll take Hermione up in minute."

Tom smiled coolly and brushed past Hermione to pick up her trunk and bag. He hefted the bag onto his shoulder and climbed up the flight of stairs to the very top. He had taken over the attic's bedroom; no one had dared challenge him for it. He threw the bags onto the spare bed and stood to look out the window. The people milling about on the pavement below were no bigger than his littlest finger. The decrepit buildings loomed around him in the gloom. The twisting and rundown forms were plastered with posters and propaganda advertising war bonds. Tom turned his back to the window, listening to Mrs. Cole's abrasive voice coming up the stairs.

This should be interesting. Wonder how long this one will last...

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Mrs. Cole grabbed Hermione's arm before she could open the door to her new room.

"Now dear, Tom is different. He can be intimidating, and if you need anything just come tell me." Mrs. Cole spoke with a tone of urgency, voice low. Before Hermione could react, Mrs. Cole pushed past her and swung the door open.

Hermione followed, slightly bewildered. "Mrs. Cole?"

"What is it dear?"

Hermione was at a loss for words. After a moment's hesitation, she sputtered

"Thank you." Mrs. Cole smiled tightly and turned leave.

"Don't forget that dinner is in an hour and you two are on Nursery Duty this evening." Without a backwards glance, she closed the door with a resounding thump. Hermione moved over to the bed on the far wall, moving her bag so she could sit comfortably and taking in her new home.

The room was clean, although a bit worn. The floor was a simple wooden one, with many knots and hidden creaks. The ceiling was high but slanted, the roof's rafters crisscrossing this way and that. Shifting her attention to the bare walls, the light creamy wall seemed almost out of place against the dark wooden trim and two grey beds which were pushed against opposite walls.

"So..." Tom's quiet voice seemed magnified in the silent room. Hermione took in his raven feather hair, ivory skin, emerald eyes, and cool look of indifference. He leaned casually against the window frame, a pale light illuminating his face.

"I have a few rules," Tom started, Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him. "I don't know why Dumbledore brought you here, but the old fool will not spy on me through you."

"Don't think so highly of yourself, Tom," Hermione shot back. "Dumbledore's not an old fool, he's brilliant. I'm sorry, my lord, if my being here displeases you but you're going to have to suck it up."

Hermione didn't know where that had come from. Yes, she cared for Dumbledore quite a lot and didn't like to hear him put down but why? Why did I have to add the Lord Voldemort nudge? I need to watch my tongue. Hermione bit her lip, thinking.

If that had shocked him, he betrayed nothing. He smiled, although it didn't meet his eyes. It wasn't a real smile; it had all the warmth of a glacier. Tom turned and sat opposite to her, stretching out on his bed. His height struck Hermione just then. He barely fit on the bed, while she had another foot or so to stretch. For someone of that stature, he was coordinated and fairly graceful.

"Interesting," Tom drawled, "But I believe we'll have to agree on disagreeing there. I don't think you'll last long here." Tom traced absent circles on the blanket while continuing, "I said before I that have rules. One of which is I do not do childcare. That will be your job. I also don't appreciate snoops. My correspondence is private; do not answer any of my owls. Lastly you will do your best to get a room change. I don't share my room, especially with one such as yourself." All the while Tom spoke, Hermione felt a pull. His tone of voice was so powerful; it seemed as if she must obey. Why would she ever want to disobey Tom?

No, a little voice said, as the fog around her mind seemed to thicken. No Hermione. This isn't right. This is him, not you. Don't let him get to you. No. Her tongue seemed thick and heavy. She tried to form words and struggled to find her wand. Her wand leapt to her hand and her mind started to clear. Shaking her head, like a dog when drying itself. Hermione struggled for a moment before rage cleared the remains of fog from her mind.

"How dare you?" Hermione sprung upright and stalked to the edge of his bed. Tom seemed to recoil for moment then stood up also, standing his ground. In her rage she seemed to grow a few inches. Her hair, once smooth and bouncy, frizzed and stood on end. Blue bolts of electricity ran up and down mass of hair, crackling. Her face was lit with the bluish light.

"How dare you?" She repeated, infuriated beyond belief. Her mind was her one sanctuary, the one private place where no one could intrude, not after many Occlumency lessons from Harry. Hermione brought her wand up to his neck, stabbing it viciously with the tip. "If you ever try that on me again, I will make you regret it for the rest of you sorry, miserable, pathetic life. I don't care if you're the next Head-Boy, I don't care if you're Slytherin's Heir, I don't care if you're bloody Voldemort himself, you will not do that again ever. Do you understand?" Tom's face paled imperceptibly. Nodding, he slipped his wand out again, bringing swiftly to her throat before she could react.

"Always disarm your opponent before threatening them. Keep that in mind."

Hermione snarled and knocked his arm away, storming to the door then stopping to face him. "I'll see you in the nursery. Be there or you won't get a very good sleep." Tom raised an eyebrow bemusedly.

Hermione turned her wand onto her bed, wordlessly casting charms on it and her luggage. Next, turning to Tom's bed she turned his bed to stone, the floor groaning with its weight. Stomping out of the room, the door slammed shut behind her.

Well played. But really, Duro isn't that original, Tom thought, turning to his bed. Tapping it lightly, he muttered the counter spell.

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Halfway down the flight of rickety stairs, Hermione paused. An inhuman yell of frustration and anger penetrated the air. Hermione smirked with satisfaction as she heard Tom pacing agitatedly across their room. She had use a modified version of Duro, one she had invented. She was the only one who could remove it. A second burst of anger and pain perforated the air as Tom tried to cross the wards on her bed. Hermione sighed and slumped against the wall happily. Hermione one, Tom zero, she thought, before continuing down the stairs to help make dinner.

A/N: There we go, sorry for the slow updates, don't kill me! I've started another story called "Multiple Mudbloods" and its going to be really funny. I've also started a blog where you can follow my writing progress, ask questions and leave comments. The link is on my profile. Once again, a HUGE thank you to my beta! My story would make sense without her!

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