Pansy's cursing had become more and more perfunctory until she just sagged against the tree that was behind her and said, pushing her hair out her eyes with her wandless hand, "Give up, Granger. I'm not like you and Theo and the rest of them. I'm not good at this. I'm just average."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Oh, really?"

Pansy didn't bother to respond, just lowered her head and stared at the ground, beaten. Taking over the world had sounded great until she'd discovered it came with classes – a lot of classes - on Dark Magic. She'd spent hours with Theo and while he'd been surprisingly patient and attentive, especially compared to what she was used to from Draco, she hadn't gotten any better. She studied the spells and practiced the incantations but she just couldn't get it to work. Theo would pet her hair and tell her it didn't matter, she should see how bad Greg and Vince were, but it did matter and she knew it. She couldn't do this, not the way frizzy-haired Granger could.

"Pansy," Hermione said, "Try pretending I'm Draco. I know you'd love to hurt him."

That pulled a tiny smile to Pansy's face.

"Shoot everything you have at me," Hermione said, "Shoot everything you want to shoot at him at me."

"What if I hit you?" Pansy said. "Riddle –"

"Tom will be thrilled if you hit me," Hermione said with a laugh. "Trust me on this one."

Pansy doubted that. "He can be a little insane when it comes to you and other people."

"He's got a bit of a possessive streak – "

"A bit?" Granger apparently went in for understatement. It was common knowledge in the 'study group' that Tom had threatened to kill Harry Potter because Hermione had borrowed the git's jumper. Draco and Theo both made a point of not touching her.

"- and can be over-protective but a lot of that's because he gets jealous at anything." Hermione shrugged. "He won't see you that way."

"Because there's no way a girl could be a rival?" Pansy was starting to feel annoyed. It wasn't like Granger was her type, but if she'd set her sights on the Muggle-born she would have been able to seduce her as easily as she'd gotten Draco. More so, probably. Granger was shockingly naïve in some ways. Pansy assumed that came from having no friends other than Potter and that Weasley boy.

"He is from the 1940s," Hermione said. She dropped her voice. "But, then, you like them a bit overly prickish, don't you? Nothing else explains Draco. You knew he was using you but you let him do it. He knew sleeping with him ruined your prospects but he didn't care as long as he got what he wanted. He didn't even bother to get you off and you still can't muster up even a little outrage." Pansy had straightened up and her knuckles were going white around her wand at the taunts. "He only wanted you for your pussy and you knew it and now you can't even get angry enough about that to –"

And with that Pansy began to shoot curses at Hermione, one after the other. "Fuck you," Pansy said. "You stupid, stupid bitch. You don't know anything." Hermione spun and blocked and laughed at Pansy as she got more and more furious and reached more deeply into the Dark spells she'd been learning until suddenly the timer went off and Hermione flung herself at the raging girl and hugged her. Pansy stood in that embrace, shocked.

"You did it!" Hermione said, "Look!"

She held out her arm where a line of blood was welling up from the skin.

"Shite," Pansy said, turning white. She'd hit her. She hadn't… well, she'd meant to while she was doing it. She'd wanted to kill her. She'd been so angry at the knife twisting about Draco, mostly because it was right, but now that she was standing here all she could think was what she said: "Riddle is going to kill me."

Hermione laughed again. "Are you kidding? He might actually be so happy he hugs you himself and you know how weird he is about touching people."

Pansy began to smile. "He really is weird about that." She paused and added, "I'm sorry I called you a bitch."

Hermione shrugged as she scooped up her bag. "I did kind of goad you," she said, "and it worked. Let's go show this off."

When they walked into the Head common room, Hermione's arm ostentatiously slung around Pansy's shoulder to show off the shallow cut, Tom grew visibly furious at the line of blood on Hermione's arm. "Who did this," he demanded. He'd pulled his body off the couch and was running a thumb over her arm, smearing the line of blood over her skin.

"Stop," she said. "Relax. It's fine. It was during a duel and it was Pansy."

Tom looked up her at that and Pansy could feel herself bristle at the doubt in his eyes. "Pansy?" he said. "How?"

"She fired off two cruciatus curses around a sectrumsempra and, while I was shielding against those, got just a garden variety cutting curse in through a crack," Hermione said, pride evident in her voice.

"Nice," said Tom, obviously assessing her anew. "No one else can do that, you know."

"No one?" Pansy nearly squeaked, cursing herself for that giveaway.

"Neville once," Tom admitted.

"I wasn't paying proper attention," Hermione muttered. "Hardly counts."

"Counts," Tom said and she made disgruntled noises but didn't argue.

"Not Draco?" Pansy asked.

Hermione began to snicker as Tom ran a hand over her arm and healed the cut. "You leave him in the proverbial dust," Hermione said then, leaning into Tom she added with a smug, self-satisfied air, "I told you to trust me, oh Dark Lord of mine."

He kissed her temple. "That you did, Dark Lady of mine, that you did."

Pansy looked at them both, a pair of happy, budding despots, and said, "I think this calls for a celebration. I happen to know Draco has some 18-year barrel aged firewhiskey under his bed if either of you can get past his wards."

Tom smirked at her. "Hermione," he said, "You get the glasses."

. . . . . . . . .

Tom traced his fingers in one slow circle after another around the witch's breast. She wasn't fully awake and made a series of sleepy coos under his stroking hand but didn't so much as open her eyes until he ran his thumb over her nipple. Then she made a tiny squeak and he smiled. "Hi there," he murmured. "Someone was tired this afternoon."

"Dealing with Pansy can be exhausting, plus firewhiskey. What happened to my sunspot?" she grumbled, twisting herself toward him. "It was all warm."

"Set, I think," he said, flicking her nipple again and listening to her gasp. "You're like a lazy cat with patches of sun."

"I'm awake now," she said. "Did we miss dinner?"

"Have the kitchen send some up in a bit," he suggested, the heel of his hand now sliding back and forth across her hard flesh. "One of the perks of being Head Girl, after all." He watched her bite her lip and felt her squirm at his side and, when he tweaked her nipple she let forth another involuntary gasp.

"Please," she whispered and he felt himself stiffen at the small plea.

"Please what?" he said, sliding his hand down her skin, feeling her stomach under his fingers before he stopped. "Tell me exactly what you want and maybe I'll be nice enough to do it." He expected her to just tell him, didn't expect her to freeze next to him and he watched her face as it closed down and he quickly pulled her into a tight hug. "Too much?" he asked and she nodded.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, turning away so he could also see a mane of hair. "I'm so stupid, it's just –"

"No," he said, running a hand in small circles over her back. "No apologizing. I pushed too hard." He nuzzled her with his nose until she looked at him again. "I'm a bossy git, after all. You know that."

She lay in his arms for a few moments and he waited for her to curve herself back into him and relax again. After she did she said, voice a little scared, "You aren't, though."

"Aren't what?" he asked, hands still rubbing her back.

"Aren't bossy," she said. "You… you definitely try to get me to talk…you have a thing about begging, but you never actually tell me to do anything."

Tom stopped moving his hand and tried to control his breathing. "What would you do if I did?"

Hermione's voice had a touch of the bravado she pulled on when she was nervous. "In bed or out?"

"In," Tom said, his own voice started to get ragged, "definitely in."

"Why don't you find out?" Hermione burrowed herself deeper into his shoulder.

Tom groaned at even the hint of the possibility of what she was holding out to him. He took her hand and placed it over the hard cock that was bloody well throbbing as it pushed against the fly of his trousers and said, "This. This is what even the thought of…." He swallowed and reassembled his composure, a composure the witch quivering next to him seemed to manage to take apart with disturbing ease. "Are you sure?"

She shrugged and he pulled himself away from her and sat up. Looking down at the rumpled woman who'd rolled over to her side and had nerves and doubt and, Merlin help him, raw lust all shifting on her face he said, "Then suck my cock." When she didn't move reached down and took two of her fingers into his and squeezed them in the little reassuring gesture that had become theirs. She smiled at him then and so he added, his voice the cold tone she'd never heard before but that Theo and Draco would have both recognized, "Now, Hermione."

He released her fingers and shifted to the edge of the bed and began to remove his trousers and pants, kicking them across the room once he had them off. He sprawled his legs and pointed to the floor at his feet with a quick, snapped gesture that had her scrambling to obey him. When she was there, kneeling on the floor her hands shoving her hair back, too nervous to remember sticking charms, she said, voice shaking, "I don't know how. I've never –"

"Then I suggest you figure it out," he said, keeping his voice cool even as his blood pounded more in his veins at her admission she was his, just his, no matter how many boys had tried to grope her at school dances, even as he pulled two of her fingers back into his hand and gently held on to them.

Just his.

She lowered her mouth to his cock, taking him into her and he forced his hands to stay relaxed instead of grabbing at her hair as she slid her lips up and down his shaft, slowly at first, then with greater suction and more speed. She first tried tracing her tongue along him within her mouth and then twirling it around and he couldn't control a groan. She did it again and he hissed out a breath. "Like that, Hermione," he heard himself say and then she was taking him as deeply into her mouth as she could. He felt the tip of his cock push against what must be the back of her throat and she was moving her head up and down and she was so goddamn warm and her tongue – fucking Merlin her tongue – was doing something he couldn't even name and he couldn't stand it anymore. Could not stand it. Her lips her tight around him and her mouth and he looked down and she was just there, kneeling between his feet, her mouth on him and the visual of her that way was too much. His witch, at his feet, his cock in her mouth and he let himself let his self control go at last and fisted his hands in her hair and yanked her head to him even more firmly. She whimpered a bit at how rough he was but didn't fight back and he was thrusting into her mouth, holding her against him, until he came, breathing hard and looking down at her. She tugged her head back, almost asking if he'd let her go, and he released her at that silent request. She slid herself off him and he could see her swallow.

Could see her swallow. Just… Merlin.

He reached a hand down and she took it and he settled back onto the bed, her at his side, and he brushed his lips across her temple. "Well," he asked, "how did you like being told what to do?"

He wasn't sure what he expected her answer to be. Didn't expect her to take his hand and press it up against her knickers where he could feel how wet she was even through the satin. Didn't expect to feel her pulse pounding against the fingers she was holding to herself.

"You liked it, I'm guessing," he said with some awe because he wouldn't have thought this could have gotten any better and yet it had.

"I feel like I shouldn't," she said. "I feel like… like there's something wrong with me but when you… I could just feel all my nerves start to tingle and my body just… yeah," she finally settled on.

He pulled his hand away from her knickers – though that was something that clearly needed tending to once he'd reassured her – and ran a thumb over her mouth. "I don't think there's anything wrong with you," he said. "We're just playing. What would you do if I started telling you what to do outside our room?"

She snorted. "Assuming you weren't using the serious voice, I'd tell you to bugger off."

"The serious voice?" He narrowed his eyes.

She shrugged, self-conscious again. "You have a tone you use when you aren't… when you mean it. I think of it as your 'dark wizard' voice."

"My 'dark wizard voice'," Tom said, amused at that.

"Right," she said, ignoring that amusement, "but assuming you weren't using that tone, I'd tell you where you could shove your orders."

"So… why worry about what we do for fun?" he asked. "You know I'd never hurt you, not really. You know you can trust me." He reached his hand back towards her knickers. "Your turn?" he asked.

"Please," she whispered and he laughed quietly as he began to get her off while murmuring into her ear the whole while how incredible she'd been, how much he'd loved watching her suck him off, how much he adored her.

"I adore you," he was saying as she shuddered against his twirling fingers. "I adore you my perfect, perfect Hermione."

. . . . . . . . .

A/N – I don't know. I got nothing. It's warm out and I'm 1300 words behind my writing goal for the day.