Chapter Twenty: The Art of Possession
Over the next few days Tom treated her with complete silence. He didn't curse her when he entered the common room as she expected him to, he didn't tell her off. He just walked straight past her into his room and did not emerge until the next morning. It went like that for about a week. The morning after her little escapade she had to pick Abraxus up off the floor after every lesson, showing that Tom had obviously blown all his violent anger out on him and that she was getting the cold shoulder. She also saw that Abraxus had kept his promise to her too. Across the Gryffindor table, Potter and Weasley sat together with the Slytherin emblem and several burns embedded into their skin. She may not have been able to do it but she was glad that someone had. Surprisingly neither she nor Abraxus or Cygnus had been called out on the crime. She had been half expecting Dumbledore to come up to her room the next morning and tell her that she had been expelled but as it had with the Gryffindors…nothing happened.
After about a week of waiting and a week of silent treatment, Hermione had had enough. One evening after dinner she walked straight over to Tom and pushed him onto a chair.
"When are you going curse me?" She asked him heatedly.
He simply glared up at her.
"What do you think you are doing?" He asked her, his voice soft, his glare hard.
"I'm tried of waiting," she sneered, "Either curse me now or let things go back to the way they were!"
He slowly stood from the chair and towered over her with a firm glare. She didn't waver. He gripped her firmly by her wrists and shoved her back into the nearest wall, eliciting a grunt of pain from her lips but her gaze didn't move from his. His grip tightened to bruising point on her wrists as he spoke.
"You will not touch me in that manner again," he commanded coldly, "I hit you, not the other way around."
"And what gives you that right?" She spat at him, struggling against his grip, "If you have the right to hurt me, then why can I not hurt you in turn?"
"Because I am your superior," he stated, "You are the subordinate."
"So we're back that then are we?" She asked with a bitter laugh, "Funny, you had almost fooled me into thinking you had a brain."
His hand struck her faster than she had ever seen, the blow stronger than anything she had ever felt and she had been hit by many. The force would have been enough to knock her to the ground had he not kept her steady by her other wrist.
"I am your superior," he repeated, "And you will treat me as such."
As she glared into his eyes a realisation suddenly came over her. Her breathing came hard and fast as she tried to shake her head in denial. It simply wasn't possible! How could she not have seen it sooner? It had been right in front of her from the very beginning, right there the whole time…and she had been too stubborn, too unwilling to see it. Because she didn't want to. People see what they wish to see. She didn't want to see a thing. Not now, not ever and now that she had, she couldn't ignore it. He began to look at her strangely and didn't expect her knee to hit him in the gut. He doubled over in pain and glared up at her as she backed away from him, tears beginning to coat her eyes.
"No," she said in an angry sob, "No you're not."
He looked up at her through his pain as she stood there with tears streaming down her face.
"You are the one thing," she said slowly, trying to control herself, "That I told myself you would never be."
"And what's that?" He hissed at her.
"My equal," she whispered, "You're as stubborn as me, as smart as me, perhaps magically more capable but that's only because you use magic that I've never dreamed of until now. We both brew perfect potions, though mine are quicker, we are constantly at odds with one another with differences of opinions because we're both head strong and defiant right until the end. You are everything I am and yet everything I never want to be all rolled into one."
He seemed to soften at the realisation of what she was saying, what she was confessing. She had been fighting him from the beginning, even when he finally brought his lips to hers she had been running from him. At first he had wanted her to fear him like everyone else in the castle but once he saw her use he wanted her devotion, her passion. Then he saw who she really was and who she could be. It had taken him less time to see it than what she had but unlike Hermione he would never confess it. She was his equal…or at least she would be once he was finished with her.
He stood from the floor and walked over to her but she just backed away again. She was becoming angry, more with herself than anything else but that didn't stop her from taking it out on him.
"Not Ron," she seemed to half yell at herself, "Not Harry, or Draco or Severus or anyone else half way decent. You! Why did it have to be you?"
"Because you're stubborn," he said quietly, "You're stubborn and you're pigheaded and you're ignorant of your own potential. So irritatingly innocent and yet filled with such a seductive darkness that you don't even recognise yourself! So much power, so much beauty-"
He reached out to touch her cheek but she slapped his hand away.
"You can't be," she said as she kept backing away, "There must be someone else. I'm not meant for you."
"You are mine, Hermione," he told her firmly, "You can not deny it any longer. You belong with me."
"No," she muttered, shaking her head again, "You kill people, you torture them-"
"I'm not going to change," he told her firmly, "I'm going to continue to kill and torture and do what I need to do in order to get what I want. That doesn't change the fact that you belong with me."
"That's not me," she told him, shaking her head, still retreating, "I'm not evil, I don't want to hurt people."
"There is no such thing as good or evil, Hermione," he told her, reaching for her again but being swatted away, "Only power and how we use it."
"You don't use power," she yelled at him, "You abuse it!"
"I'm more liberal with it," he told her calmly, "You could be too."
She shook her head, suddenly finding that she had nowhere else to run.
"I've spent my life fighting you," she told him without thinking, "I've spent my life defending my friends and family from you and your selfishness and your tyranny and your screwed up ideas-"
"And you've never tried to embrace them," he told her, ignoring what he thought was an emotional mistake, "You've never tried to release your own potential, never let your primal nature take hold. So calculated, so cunning, yet so close minded and cold to anything different when you yourself are an anomaly. Tell me, why do you shun the dark?"
"Because it's wrong," she said flatly.
Her back was against the wall again, only this time he was not holding her there for what he viewed as punishment. He saw reward. Reward for finally admitting that she belonged with him. He came as close to her as he could without touching her, his breath tickling her chin. Her tears suddenly ceased as she gazed up at him and though she was afraid she knew that there was no turning back from this. She would hate herself in the morning but it was what had to be done-no, what she wanted.
"No Hermione," he whispered, his hand finally making contact with the skin of her cheek, "It's different. You don't understand it, therefore you fear it, push it aside. How many children in your youth pushed you aside because you made strange things happen?"
She stiffened at his words. How had he known that? It was impossible! She had never told him a word of her childhood! She had been so careful of that. They never spoke of their pasts during their nightly chess match or during their private lessons. They never once broached the subject of childhood! She realised that he was waiting for her to answer and her lip trembled slightly in fear.
"Too many," she whispered.
"Too many," he repeated as he stepped even closer to her, their bodies meeting as he took a hold of her waist and her hands naturally rested on his shoulders. She gazed up at him and she knew there was no turning back now. Her blood raced through her veins at the look in his eyes, predatory, clouded with lust. She wasn't going to get out of this unscathed. It didn't matter that it was what she wanted. She knew she was going to regret it all in the morning.
"Aren't you tired of fighting Hermione?" He asked her, "You've been fighting all your life."
"I've been fighting for-"
"Others," he finished for her, "There's nothing wrong with doing something for yourself."
"There's something wrong about this," she whispered back. One of his hands came up to stroke her cheek softly as he stared at her. No, not at her. Through her. Right down to her very soul.
"Let go," he whispered. Whatever internal battle she had been fighting was clearly over when she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. He allowed a ghost of a smile to grace his features.
"Of all the people on this earth," she whispered to him with more venom than he had ever heard her speak with, "I hate you the most."
He paused for a moment but his smile only grew. It wasn't a warning, it wasn't a promise and it wasn't a fight that she had offered. It was just a confession.
"We can live with that."
His lips finally met hers in a passionate, sultry kiss and for once in her life, Hermione Granger stopped thinking. She turned off her brain, switched on her sense and just did what felt right. She didn't stop him from carrying her to his room. She didn't tell him no when he laid her on his bed. She didn't deny it when he had her naked in his arms and whispered "mine" in her ear.
The last few days of term went by in a blur for Tom. After their first night together Hermione never left his side. Yes, she was still opinionated and stubborn and refused to back down in lessons where she would benefit to stay quiet (Ancient Runes very much included in that list) but she was attached to him at the hip. She never pulled away from him when he led her by the hand to their next class, she didn't protest when he made her sit with him at lunch and she never complained when he placed his hand on her knee under the lunch table…or the classroom desk…or the study table. The rest of the school had noticed the change in their relationship also and while some of them asked what happened to her fiancé others simply accepted it. To his pleasure she was not really hassled about it and if she was, his followers and the other Slytherin girls told them where to go.
Hermione had also become much more amenable to suggestions during their private lessons. She had moved on from slicing rats, to carving up kittens and soon after that she was trying to cast cruciatus on him as he changed his appearance to that of Callus or Brindom who he knew she hated. She still found it next to impossible to hurt a human being while she was calm but it was progress none the less.
Now it was Christmas eve and they sat beneath a great willow tree by the lake, Hermione with her books out as she went over the text for the pop quiz she was convinced that Slughorn was going to throw at them tomorrow morning and Tom lazing against the hollow of the tree, watching her as her eyes moved back and forth quickly over the pages. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the witch.
"For the smartest witch of the age you have to be one of the densest human beings I've ever met," he told her. She rolled her eyes as well. It had to have been the fiftieth time he had interrupted her and he knew how much she hated it when he stopped her from studying.
"And why's that?" She glared.
"You know that book back to front," he said to her, "And possibly sideways if you count the notes you've put in the margin."
"And your point is?" She asked as she kept skimming over the page she was on, deeming what he was saying as unimportant. He smirked and scooted closer to her before snatching the book from her hands and almost laughing at the reaction she had to his current closeness.
"My point," he said huskily, "Is that you are made for far more important things than naming the twelve uses of dragon's blood."
He loved hearing the little sigh that escaped her lips when he claimed them. She pulled back and smirked slightly as she spoke.
"Well unfortunately I can't show you my full potential until tonight," she said seductively, reaching her hands around him, "So until that time, can I have my book back please?"
He looked at her for a moment and then looked at the book. Before she could say anything at all he threw it into the lake.
"No."
For a few moments her face wore an expression of shock. It was as though she couldn't believe that he just threw her book into the lake. Then she looked confused. It was then that he realised that she wasn't even looking at him. He turned to see where her gaze had lingered and found himself with very much the same expression on his face. Draco stood there looking at them in shock, his mouth half open, his eyes completely disbelieving of everything he had just witnessed. For once, Hermione saw it before he did. Draco drew his wand and fired at the both of them as Hermione pushed him to the ground and dodged out of the way herself.
"Draco stop!" She screamed at him but he wouldn't. He fired another curse at Tom but this time he was ready for it. He blocked it quickly and sent one of his own, hitting the man squarely in the chest. But it didn't stop him. He dodged the next one that Tom sent and then threw another at Hermione. It seemed to Tom that she did the first thing that came to mind and blocked it, conjuring her Patronus straight afterwards which wrapped quickly around Draco and restrained him. The Ridge-Back Dragon held onto him tightly as he gazed up at it in awe before turning back to her, shock taking over his features once more.
"How could you?" He asked simply.
"Quite easily," Tom smirked at him before venturing over to Hermione who was leaning on the willow tree. He expected her to push him away when he attempted to check her over for wounds but she stayed there and let him do what he wanted. He then allowed her to walk over to Draco and look at him with honest eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I didn't want you to find out like this."
He glared at her coldly.
"Too late then isn't it," he said to her, turning his face away. Tom saw her bite her bottom lip for a moment and then make a decision. To his surprise she released Draco from her dragon and began directing him into the Forbidden Forest.
"Come on," she said quietly, "We need to talk."
He sneered at her this time and then fixed Tom with another icy glare. Tom simply smiled and waved goodbye.
"You remember the clearing I showed you last time?" She asked Draco, who then nodded, "Go to it. I'll be there in a few moments."
He glared at the two of them one last time before he made his way inside. Hermione then turned back to Tom and walked over to him.
"I'm sorry about him," she said, "I never had the chance to tell him…about us."
"I will forgive you this time," he told her quietly, "But only once and with conditions."
She rolled her eyes at him.
"Only you would have conditions," she muttered.
"You will answer my questions later," he instructed her, "And if he tries to attack you again you will kill him."
She stared at him for a few moments and tried to process what he had just asked of her.
"The only reason he even tried was because he was in shock," she consoled him, "He won't do it again."
"If he does, you will kill him," he reiterated.
"There's no need-"
"Do not question me Hermione," he told her, using a certain command in his voice that he only ever reserved for her, "You will do it. Do you understand?"
She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water but said nothing. For the first time he had known her, Tom Riddle had rendered Hermione Evans speechless.
"I mean it Hermione," he said to her, "Either you do it, or I will hunt him down and do it myself and you know that I will make him suffer. Now do you understand?"
She gave a sigh and bowed her head.
"Yes Tom," she whispered. He placed two fingers beneath her chin and brought her up to face him once more.
"Good girl," he uttered before placing a kiss on her lips, "Now go and speak to him."
She gave him a small smile before she then vanished behind a veil of trees. Oh yes, she was definitely his.
She and Draco emerged from the forest almost an hour later and Hermione walked Draco to the gates. There was tense atmosphere between them that hadn't been there since the days that she had believed him to be a Death Eater in the making and it was something she definitely wasn't proud of. As they reached the great winged boars she turned to him and ripped the ring from her neck, and placed it in his hand.
"Tell Severus I'm sorry," she whispered to him.
"This is going to kill him," Draco sneered back, "He really thought you could do this-"
"Well I can't," she cut him off, "This is the only way."
He glared at her for the umpteenth time that day and then turned his back on her as he opened the gates and stepped outside.
"See you round Granger," he said as he shut the gates once more.
"Don't come back Draco," she said to him firmly, "Not like this. You'll do yourself more harm than good. Trust me."
He simply turned his back from her and aparated away. When Hermione returned to the castle and to the Head Boy chambers she was not surprised to see Tom waiting for her on the couch.
"Do I need to kill him or did you save me the annoyance?" He asked her casually.
"Neither," she told him calmly as she sat next to him, "He didn't try to hurt me."
He frowned slightly at this. He had been silently hoping that Draco would give her a reason to hurt him, help her get over that silly fear of hers…apparently he was smarter than he looked.
"So what happened?" He asked her.
"We went into the clearing," she said calmly, "I explained to him that I didn't need him anymore and that he and Leopold should stay away from now on."
"I can imagine that it didn't go down well," Tom remarked.
"No but he managed to restrain himself," she told him, "He won't be coming back anytime soon."
Tom nodded, satisfied with what she had told him. He wouldn't look for a full recount of the story from her; he knew he would never get it. That was one thing that she would never do for him, no matter how much of her belonged with him now. It just wasn't in her nature to give him or anyone the full story for that matter. He felt her shift slightly and he slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him as she rested her head on his chest.
"I thought I would get the chance to tell him soon," she admitted, "I never wanted him to find out like that."
"Why should it matter?" He asked her, "He is not in love with you, he does not desire you and you do not desire him. Why should he care so much?"
"Draco has always been a good judge of character," she told him, "He never liked you, not once. He thinks you're a bad influence on me…and he's right."
Tom looked down at her, his brow creased as he saw the expression of conflict on his little witch's face.
"Hermione?" He asked her softly.
"Yes?" She asked back as she looked up at him.
"Why are you here?" He asked her. She looked away from him for a few moments and then contented herself to stare into the fireplace before them.
"I'm not sure," she answered. It had been the first time he had out right asked her of her purpose at Hogwarts and now she couldn't give him a straight answer. But he was smart. He wouldn't push her until he had all the guarantees in the world that she wasn't going to leave him. He instead settled for a less significant question.
"He looked stunned when your patronus came forth," he told her, "Why is that?"
"It's not how it usually is," she told him with a sigh, "Ever since I came here it's been different."
"The Dragon is not supposed to be there?" He asked her in confusion and she nodded, "What are you meant to have?"
"An otter."
"An otter?" He asked in disgust. She looked up at him with a scowl.
"I happen to like otters," she glared at him.
"They are most unbecoming of you," he told her, his nose wrinkled, "The dragon is much more your style."
"I wonder why it changed though," she added in an effort to avoid a debate, "I haven't had any emotional upheavals…well, not since I left anyway and it was still the same when I was at home."
"It is unimportant," he said with a sigh, "Come. I think it would be most disrespectful if we decided to turn up to Slughorn's Christmas party late, especially when he's gone and dedicated to us coming out as a couple."
"Tom," she said as she leaned back to look at him, "I don't have anything to wear."
"I've already taken care of it," he told her, "Your dress is sitting on the bed. I had Malfoy take care of it with a bit of help from Eileen."
She scowled at him slightly and went into what he had dubbed as 'their room' lately. He was not at all surprised when she came out with a dumbfounded expression on her face and the dress in her arms. Dark green, almost black satin with off-shoulder sleeves and a corset backing on the tight fitting bodice and even tighter fitting skirt was definitely not her regular style. On top of all this they had gone and gotten her a pair of matching shoes and a silver cloak to keep her warm.
"It's too much," she said simply.
"You deserve the best," he said back.
"The best is too much," she retorted.
He rolled his eyes at her and started pushing her back inside their rooms.
"You are with the best," he told her, "Therefore you will have the best and you will not complain about it. Now get dressed, or I will do it for you and you know that if I do it will be painful and will more than likely take twice as long."
Hermione shivered slightly at the promise, whether from the idea of pain or pleasure Tom couldn't tell, but he didn't wait for a response. He pushed her inside the room, shut the door and then summoned his own robes. He wanted to see her when she had the dress on and not before. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be absolutely delicious. Abraxus for one had really good taste and Eileen would be there at any minute to help her with her hair and make-up. Not that she needed much help at all. No, he didn't want to see his queen until she was completely done. At that moment there was a sharp wrap on the door. He went over and let Eileen in.
"Evening Tom," she said politely.
"She's already in the bedroom," he told her.
"Right then," she said as she walked past but before she could enter Tom stopped her.
"I want to know if she mentions anything about Draco Malone," he told her, "Anything at all, do you hear me?"
"Yes Tom," she said quietly, "I wish you would let me stop doing this. I hate spying on her."
"You owe me a life debt Prince," he reminded her, "I want to know everything."
Eileen bowed her head.
"Yes Tom," she said before she put on another smile and then moved inside the bedroom.