CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"Harry! Where are you going?" Hermione demanded of her friend as he turned toward the entrance to Hogwarts castle, which now lay in ruins around them.

"Somebody has to make this stop," he insisted as he removed her gripping hand from his arm. "If he wants me—if I'm the one he has insisted upon—then he shall have me. Somebody has to end this stupid war!"

"He's going to kill you," she said on a sob. Tom came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her back against him. Though he had never done such a thing before, she did nothing to try to get away or even look surprised by it. Instead, she leaned back into him and brought her hands up to hold onto his arms as tears streamed down her face.

"He has to go, Hermione," Tom told the top of her head. "It's going to be all right. Come on, let's go help the others. You're a good healer, and there are a lot of wounds to fix."

When he would have let her go, she stopped him with her hands and her plea. "Don't let go, Professor. Never let go."

Harry was gone, and still they lingered in that position. Tom's face leaned down into her hair so he could take in the scent of her, and he could feel the quickening of her heart that matched his own. He turned her around in his arms, and her face turned up to his, seeking the kiss she was sure to find there.

"Hermione!" he growled against her lips. "We shouldn't. Not yet."

"Why not yet?" she pleaded. "Do you have any idea how long I have waited for you to kiss me? Do you have any idea how much more I want?"

"I have a very good idea," he whispered, giving in to her and continuing the kisses. More and more kisses, unending. The whole castle could have fallen down around them and they would not care. Tom picked her up and brought her into his office, which seemed to be intact, straight back into his private rooms. They were on his bed before she even completely realized they'd gotten there.

"Tom!" she breathed into his mouth as his hands played her like a fine instrument. He seemed to be everywhere at once, touching and tasting. Hermione gave as good as she got, her breath coming in short gasps. "Oh, damn, I'm getting thirsty," she complained, still not wanting to stop.

Tom sat up and poured her some water from the pitcher on the nightstand. He considered giving her the memory potion, but he didn't want to do it quite yet. He wanted her to himself for a while first. But he held the cup to her lips, and drank some of it as well before he set the glass aside.

"Come here, my sweet, where were we," he whispered as he turned back to her again.

"Right here," she breathed into his mouth. This time his tongue snaked out to take possession, and she moaned at the gentle— and then not so gentle—torture. He practically tore off her clothes while she undid the buttons of his shirt beneath his robes, which she had hiked up out of her way.

"Here, let me help," he said, pulling the robes off and throwing them carelessly aside. "You're so beautiful, Hermione. You're so damned beautiful."

Hermione didn't say anything as she pulled his shirt free of his trousers and tossed it where the robes had gone. All she wanted was to taste his flesh. She bit into his chest, then traced its contours with her tongue until he couldn't take it anymore. He laid her down, hiked up her skirts, and discovered what she was wearing underneath.

"Oh, mercy, I'm glad I didn't know about this before now," he breathed as he spied the sweet, silky little Slytherin-green panties and the garters that held up her stockings. "Why are you wearing that?"

"It makes me feel naughty," she admitted with a grin.

"Who do you think of when you feel naughty, sweetheart?" he asked as his hands slid up her stockings in a search for wetness. He found it, all right, and explored his discovery thoroughly.

"Oh!" she gasped. "You mean you don't know, Tom? I've only ever wanted one man I can think of. Don't you know who he is?"

"Yes, I do," he said on a purr. "But tell me, Hermione. Tell me anyway." He leaned forward as if he would kiss her, but stopped a few inches away. He didn't move as she tried desperately to reach him, casting her a wicked grin. "Are you going to tell me?"

"Please! Please, I want you!" she said. "I want you so bad, Tom. Not just a finger—oh, not just two! Quit it, you know what I mean."

Tom cast her another wicked grin, and kissed her cheek, then down her neck and between her bared breasts. He tasted one, and then the other, as his fingers still worked their magic down below. Hermione was wild in her need, her hands clawing desperately at his shoulders, but then he kissed lower, his mouth taking over what his fingers had been up to, and she was completely lost.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she gasped as he continued his onslaught. But he didn't want her to finish without him, so he stopped, and exhaled slow, hot breaths on her instead to cool her down a bit. "Tom, please, I need—I need—"

"Tell me, honey, tell me," he said as he sat up and undid his pants in plain view of her avid eyes. He pulled them off, thrilling to the widening of those eyes when his cock sprang free.

She reached up to touch it with a look of wonder, and jumped away when it was a sensation not exactly like what she thought it would be. He laughed, and brought her hand up to him again, showing her what to do. She was rather good at following instructions, he noticed with extreme satisfaction.

Hermione didn't stop there, she sat up in the bed and tossed him down onto it, then proceeded to kiss her way down to his eager member in much the same manner he'd just kissed down her. Tom laughed at her as she reached her destination, and looked up at him before she took a taste. "Go on, then, my brave beauty. You should always finish what you start."

When she took him into her mouth, Tom very nearly shouted "Oh!" himself, but he managed to suck it in and bite his lip instead. Not liking this, Hermione determined that before she was done with him, she would get that "Oh!" and then some. She set to her task with determination, but after a while he stopped her.

"I'm getting too close, love," he said. "I want us to finish together. Will you let me be inside you?"

"Yes, Tom," she breathed, and he laid her back on the bed, kissing her all the way. He was above her now, and she saw his eyes dart down to see what he was doing. When he was in the right spot, he pushed a bit, and met the resistance he knew would be there. It took a while to get in, and he watched as Hermione bit her lip in anticipation, and eventually dis comfort.

"Ok, I think I can do it, now," he whispered, and thrust forward with a bit more force. Hermione gasped with pain and pleasure combined, and her nails bit into the flesh on his arms above his hands, which were holding her hips in place. She started to moan as he moved experimentally and his body came forward as he moved his hands to either side of her breast, resting them on the mattress beneath her. "Yes, Hermione, there it is. Do you like that?"

"Yes!" she barely managed to get out past her shaky breaths. Tom pulled her legs up around his butt, and she gasped again, never suspecting it could feel better than it already did. He chuckled at her reaction, and inched them up just a bit further, earning an even bigger reaction for his efforts. Hermione went wild, matching each of his thrusts with her own, and she got the "Oh!" she'd been after, then another and another. The room filled with the sounds of their ecstatic voices in the throes of passion.

Had he known it could be this damn good with her, Lord Voldemort would have never gotten him to leave his first Hermione behind.