Chapter Thirteen: Are You Sure?

Hermione didn't return to their dorm until Tom had already gone into his room to prepare for bed. He'd been waiting for her for several hours, but he had forced himself to refrain from going out in search of the girl. He would not wish to appear too eager for her company, after all. As Malfoy had pointed out, that would be completely unlike him.

He heard her as she mounted the stairs and headed into the bathroom. He heard the water turn on, and every movement she made in the shower as well. He had to force himself to stop thinking about what she might have been doing all day that had made her want a shower. But hadn't he taken one himself, after being out by the lake all day. She was probably doing the same as he.

But who might she have been spending all this time with? Had she gone into the library as he suspected, seeking the comfort of books for company? She'd gone to the library the last time she'd been brooding, and that's how she'd ended up here.

A horrid thought came to him next. What if she'd gone into the room again? What if she'd made another wish, and found herself in another place and time-maybe even the one she'd abandoned to begin with?

Tom didn't mean to do it, but he found himself standing just outside the bathroom door as she came out. She looked up at him uncertainly, and his own expression must have been equally troubled as he looked back as her. He couldn't decide what to say to her, so instead he wordlessly reached out and slid a hand into her hair.

With a soft sigh, Hermione let him pull her against him, just holding her. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but her own heart was pounding even harder. He placed his hand on it and looked at her with a slightly raised brow.

"I lost track of time studying runes," she told him softly, her voice catching as she spoke.

"Mmm, I didn't know it was that interesting of a subject," he said with a slight smirk, and began to trace little kisses along her eyes and forehead. When she inhaled softly, he knew she was enjoying his scent, and he did it as well. "Have you been eating strawberries, too?"

"Yes," she said, blushing.

"Comfort food," he said softly. It wasn't a question, more of an observation. His lips trailed down her nose and then found hers. But he didn't kiss her, just brushed his lips tantalizingly over hers instead, driving her crazy with teasing.

"I'm going to go to bed," she said as she began to move away.

"Whose bed?" he teased, drawing her closer again.

"Tom!" she protested, blushing again. But she didn't try to pull away as his lips trailed down the side of her throat. He moved to kiss her more soundly, but she pressed him away again. "I'm going to go to my own bed."

"Damn," he grumbled as he let her go. "Can't blame a man for trying."

Hermione shook her head with a heavy blush, and started to move toward her door. Her hand actually circled the doorknob when Tom's hand caressed the small of her back. She sucked in her breath again, leaning back against him as he drew her into his arms and cupped her breasts in his hands. His lips dragged along her shoulder and neck, and then he nipped her earlobe, making her groan in response.

"Are you sure you don't want to come see my bed?" he asked hopefully. "It's pretty comfy."

"Isn't it the same as mine?" she asked, surprised by the breathless quality of her voice.

"Yeah, except that I'm in it," he teased against her earlobe. "We could just cuddle and talk, if that's what you're afraid of." Hermione blushed even more, and Tom chuckled. "You haven't done it yet, have you, my good little princess? Damn, that's hot."

"How do you know if I've done-it?" she wanted to know. "Maybe I just don't like to hop right into bed with a guy on the first chance-"

Tom laughed as he let her go and scooted her toward her door. "No, you haven't done it," he teased her. "Tom Riddle knows all and sees all. I did a Tarot reading about you earlier today."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed.

"Okay, I admit it, I did look in your head," he smirked. "Why didn't you tell me both your best friends were boys?"

"I didn't really think it mattered," she said defensively.

"Were you in love with one of them?" he asked, trying not to seem as jealous as he clearly was.

"I-I thought I was, but I guess it was just because I wanted to believe it," she admitted. "The truth is, he and I never could have been more than friends."

"Are you sure?" Tom inquired. "I wouldn't want you thinking about him while you're kissing me."

"It was more like the other way around," she admitted softly.

"Then you did come back here because of me?" he asked triumphantly.

"Yes, I suppose I did."

"And you don't want to come see how much better my bed is than that thing?" he clarified.

"No, not so soon," she whispered softly. "I'd rather get to know each other in the here and now a bit better first."

"So, if you haven't done it, that means I wasn't able to seduce you in my dotage," he said with a mock dejected sigh.

"Ha, that's only because you couldn't have done anything with me anyway," she answered wickedly. "That thing was much too old and shriveled and-"

"Shut up, Hermione," he said, and then pressed her against her door to snog her massively. By the time he let her go, her knees had gone weak, and her resolve to get into her own bed was even weaker.

"Good night, Tom," she whispered softly, and went into her room, closing her door behind her. She tossed herself down on her bed and hugged her arms about her torso, willing her wayward thoughts to subside, but certain they'd be keeping her up well into the night.