A/N: I'm so sorry that this chapter took so long, you guys. There was a bit of a funk invoked by the holidays that I've been trying to shake off, but here we are. I hope you like it. Thanks so much for all the reviews and the love you've all been giving me on this and my other stories. Much love! xx-Kitten
A Promise Unspoken
By Kittenshift17
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
She was going to be the death of him. Thorfinn supposed that he ought to have accepted that by now, but he hadn't. Not yet. Hell, he didn't know if he would ever be able to accept it, but the fact remained. As he leaned back against the wrought iron of the bathtub with the little witch pressed back against his chest in the bubbly hot water, Thorfinn just knew she would be the death of him.
He was in over his head. That much was clear. He could feel the darkness inside of him now. He could feel the rips in his soul. He'd heard about them before, read about them and studied them in-depth during his NEWTs at school. The rips, he'd learned, were the effect of his magic tearing – his very soul ripping open from the abhorrent act of murder. And he'd committed mass-murder today for his witch. Fuck, he'd done worse than that. Arson. Murder. Torture. He was guilty of them all.
He didn't regret it. With Hermione leaned back against his chest, her eyes closed and her thumbs massaging the tendon in his batting hand, Thorfinn knew he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat for the little witch. She was strong, he'd give her that. Stronger than he'd realised. She'd always had a smart mouth and a barbed tongue, but she was resilient in a way he hadn't expected.
A girl like Reina would've been sobbing; trembling and terrified after surviving the type of ordeal Hermione had endured. Someone like Reina would have been afraid of being alone with a man – especially of being naked with one. Merlin, she'd have been even more horrified over the idea of Thorfinn murdering anyone for her.
Yet Hermione sat calmly, her eyes closed, her hands busy as she hummed a little tune he didn't know. She didn't tremble. She didn't cry. She simply let him hold her in the hot water as she worked the tension out of his forearm, wrist and hand. She didn't even seem to mind the lead pipe he was pressing against her back. She'd survived something no witch – no woman – should ever have to face and she'd been injured terribly as a result. She had the scars and the wounds to prove it.
His face was hung over her shoulder and Thorfinn could see – all too well – the bite mark that fucking wolf had left on her. Romanov had caught the fleshy part of her neck where it met her shoulder, leaving a raised, jagged red tear behind along with a few puncture-hole scars from the individual fangs sinking into her skin. Thorfinn's free hand was curled around her stomach, his fingers tracing the scratch the wolf had left across her middle where he'd practically tried to gut her with his claws.
Thorfinn didn't know for sure if the bastard was dead, but he hoped he was. He hoped, because he knew that if this Alexei Romanov was still alive, Thorfinn would find him and he would murder him a little at a time. He wouldn't be swift in his execution of that monster. No, Thorfinn was imaging the types of things he would do if he ever got his hands on that cunt. They weren't kind. They weren't decent. They were obscene.
"So," Hermione said. Her fingers continued working at the muscles in his forearm, making his cock twitch with every drag of her thumbs along the tight tendons.
"So?" Thorfinn asked.
"Are you excited for the World Cup?"
Thorfinn's eyebrows shot up. Could she truly be that resilient? Or was she simply trying to distract her thoughts to other, more pleasant things than what she'd endured? He was leaning toward the second one purely because he didn't think anyone could be that strong without help. Maybe it hadn't really hit her yet. Hell, maybe she spent so much time ending up in dodgy situations with the likes of Potter and Weasley that she was that strong and could bounce back that fast.
Or maybe she was looking for a distraction to keep from thinking about what had happened. Maybe she wanted to take her mind off her problems and the new issues she would have to face amid her day to day life as a result of the werewolf bite, that she needed a distraction. Thorfinn was thinking that if that was what his witch needed, that's what he'd give her.
"I'm terrified," Thorfinn admitted, laughing. "I'm excited to play and honoured that I made the starting side at all. But I'm terrified. Towards the end of the season with the Bats we were hitting some pretty high attendance numbers from the fans, so I'm getting used to having pretty big crowds watching me play. But this is going to be hundreds of thousands of people. If I mess up, the whole world will be watching me do it."
Hermione shook her head and chuckled as though she found the notion of his terror amusing.
"You're not going to mess up, Finn. You'll do great. The Irish have got the best brooms, the best team in the league and one of the best beaters the league has seen in twenty-five years."
"Been memorising the sports page of the Prophet, Princess?" Thorfinn asked, smirking.
"I've been following my favourite player," she corrected him.
"We don't have the best Seeker. We'll be going up against Bulgaria in the final and they've got Krum. Some kid who came up in the leagues out of nowhere. He's still at school, actually. And he's better than our Seeker."
"Maybe so, but the Seeker's only job is to end the match," Hermione reminded him, as though he might've managed to forgot. "Yes, if he catches the snitch, he wins his team one hundred and fifty points, but that's not actually that big a deal. Not when the Irish have you flying around and flogging bludgers hard enough at people to knock them unconscious and knock them from their brooms. If you can help keep the other team out of action long enough for your team to score, even with the points for catching the snitch, Bulgaria doesn't stand a chance."
Thorfinn grinned at her words.
"You might have to give me that pep-talk again in the sheds before the game, Baby-girl," he told her.
"I don't mind repeating myself," she said. "You did save my life, after all. It's the least I can do to repay the favour."
Thorfinn tightened his arm around her, holding her close and pressing an affectionate kiss to the side of her neck.
"You don't need to repay the favour, Princess," he said. "You just need to stay out of trouble in future, wherever possible, deal? I don't think it will bode too well for either of us to go committing arson every time you get into trouble and while I'll likely get away with the murders I committed today, I'd rather not have to make a habit of it."
She nodded, turning her head slightly so she could meet his gaze.
"Did I remember to thank you?" she asked. "Because I'm grateful. I need to thank Antonin, as well. If he hadn't come along when he did, I don't imagine I'd be a very happy girl, right now."
"I need to buy the bastard something nice for saving my witch," Thorfinn agreed.
"I like it when you call me that," she whispered. Her eyes lifted to meet his carefully and Thorfinn smiled.
Fucking hell, he was in so far over his head with this witch.
"Good," he answered, cuddling her closer. Thorfinn ducked his head to peck her on the lips. "I mean to keep calling you mine for as long as you'll let me, Princess."
"Yours?" she asked. Her voice was full of her unspoken questions and Thorfinn felt a squeeze inside his chest. He knew she wanted clarification of what he meant. He knew she wanted to know whether he was outright asking her to be his witch exclusively.
Thorfinn didn't rightly know. Circe knew he wanted to make her his and never share her with anyone else. Merlin knew they were already more intimately linked than most people ever would be – even if she didn't consciously know it yet. And Salazar knew that he couldn't claim her until she'd completed the Rites or she'd lose her magic. That or they'd get caught trying to complete the Rites on her list together.
He'd never regretted initiating her into them more than he did right then. Not even when she'd been snogging Nott.
"You're my Princess, Jail-bait," Thorfinn said.
He could practically feel her deflate against him in her disappointment. And he hated himself for it.
"Still Jail-bait?" she asked. Her tone went flat as she turned in his hold to face forwards once more, refusing to meet his gaze in what she perceived to be his rejection of her.
Thorfinn gritted his teeth.
"Don't sit there and pout like you aren't Jail-bait, witch," Thorfinn said. He pulled his forearm from her hold when she dug her thumbs in just a bit too viciously for his comfort. "I know it's not what you bloody well want to hear, but it's the truth. You're fourteen, Hermione. I might bloody crave you like no one else and I might be hanging out for the day you're old enough that I can make you mine in every way known to wizard-kind. But right now you are fourteen and I'm almost twenty-one. It is thoroughly illegal for me to be sitting in this bathtub naked with you."
"Illegal?" she scoffed. She twisted in his hold, spinning on her arse in the bubbly hot water until she was sitting between his knees, her legs drawn up to her chest, and glaring at him. "You're seriously going to argue legality with me about this, Thorfinn? You killed people today. You set an entire alley and everyone in it on fire! For all I know, I killed people too when I unleashed that Fiendfyre to blast Romanov. And you're sitting there arguing the legality of my relative age comparative to yours?"
"What do you want from me, Baby-girl?" Thorfinn asked. He shook his head, his eyes darting between each of hers and he tried to get a read on her mood; as he searched for some clue over what she truly wanted from him.
"I want you to acknowledge the fact that you and I have been playing this ridiculous game of flirtation and banter since we bloody well met!" She shook her head in frustration. "We flirt and we fight and we share intimate personal details about our lives with one another. We snog in a way that makes my toes curl. We play this stupid back and forth game, pushing the boundaries of propriety and morality because of the age difference between us. And it's fun and it makes me crazy, but I need to know, right now, what exactly this is supposed to be."
She huffed out a breath of frustration. Thorfinn opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he could get a word in.
"Look, I really don't want to be that girl who has to define something with a label for it to mean anything. I'm not that girl, and I really hope you know that, Finn. But I do need to know what this," she wiggled a finger between the two of them, "is supposed to be. Because right now I'm sitting naked in a bathtub in a foreign country with you. I was recently in a shower with you, similarly naked, while snogging you and wrapped around you like a koala to a tree. You snog me and you taunt me with promises of what you plan to do to me someday and you say things like calling me your witch. Bloody hell, Thorfinn, you killed people for me! But you can't decide, one way or the other, whether you want an exclusive relationship with me that involves sex – all because you're concerned that I'm not legal yet?"
She was breathing hard by the time she finished, and if he didn't know better, Thorfinn might almost think that had she had fangs, she'd be baring them at him.
"Are you finished?" he asked. She narrowed her eyes on him dangerously for his tone but Thorfinn held up a hand to stop her before she could scold him or tell him to shove it. "Don't look at me like that, I genuinely want to know if you were finished and will let me speak."
She nodded sharply, her lips pursing into a tight line. When she didn't speak, Thorfinn took that as his cue. He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, dragging one hand through his damp hair as he tried to find the right words to explain why he wasn't currently watching her ride him, slow and easy, right there in the tub.
"Do you understand that when I initiated you into the Rites in your first year, you took a Blood Oath to complete them?" he asked seriously.
Hermione nodded again, one sharp jerk of her head up and down.
"And being that you're you, I'm going to go ahead and assume that you're aware of what happens to a witch or wizard who breaks a Blood Oath," Thorfinn said. She narrowed her eyes further. "Yeah, thought so. Now, here's the problem, Princess. Your age is a factor. It's going to be a factor until you're of legal age within the wizarding world, because no matter how backward some wizarding traditions might be, a big one we've moved with the times is that underage girls shouldn't be engaging in sexual acts with grown men. A big part of it relates to Sex Magic and the types of rituals that surround it, but another part is the effect that magic can have on a witch or wizard before they're mature enough to handle it. Mentally, you might be mature enough to handle just about anything, but physically you're still growing."
"I haven't grown an inch in the last year," she argued.
Thorfinn smirked at her.
"Not in height, Baby-girl, but trust me, the rest of you is growing rapidly." He shot a pointed look towards her bare breasts and enjoyed the way her cheeks turned pink. "That being said, I believe you are mentally and magically capable of withstanding and rationalising sex and sexual acts – hell, you're probably more mature about them than I am and have been since I met you. Society, however, has other ideas. And if I was nobody, not in the spotlight about to play the biggest game of my Quidditch career, I'd already be bollocks-deep inside you, Princess. I don't want you to think that I'm holding off because I don't want you or don't fancy you. I think this should be more than enough proof that I want you really, really bad."
Thorfinn gripped his own turgid cock in one hand, watching with amusement and more than a little desire when she darted a gaze down to his dick. She looked back at his face before her eyes were drawn south again and Thorfinn groaned when she subconsciously licked her lips.
"Fuck, when you do that, I want you even more, Kitten," he said. "But the age thing is still a factor. The other problem is the Rites."
"You don't think we'd be able to get away with completing them all at Hogwarts without you getting caught," she surmised.
"I know we'd get caught. It's not common knowledge, but Dumbledore's got that place rigged to trigger him with information the minute anyone human crosses into that school. And I've got to tell you, Princess, Transfiguration was not my best subject. I haven't got a snowball's chance in hell of mastering Animagi before you graduate. So unless Dumbledore suddenly gets really lax with the rules, we'd get caught the minute I entered the school. You'd get expelled, or reprimanded pretty harshly at least, and I'd likely get fined or sent to Azkaban if we tried anything on school grounds before you're seventeen."
"You're refusing to acknowledge anything between us for the sake of ensuring I can keep my Blood Oath and perform all the tasks of my Rites without the complication of a boyfriend who isn't whomever I have to shag to do so." She frowned at the idea.
"Trust me when I tell you that it fucking kills me, Princess," Thorfinn said quietly. "If it weren't for the risk to your education and my career, not to mention the risk of you feeling guilty for having to fuck someone else, I'd have asked you to be my witch, exclusively, the day I snuck you out of Hogsmeade."
Hermione blinked at him in surprise for a long moment and Thorfinn wondered what was going through her pretty little head. She didn't seem to know what to make of the information, or even what she wanted to do about any of it. Thorfinn knew the feeling. He'd been warring with himself on the matter for what felt like years now.
"So, what is the solution?" she asked.
"I've got no bloody idea, Princess." Thorfinn ran his hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "What do you want to do about it?"
Hermione looked thoughtful at his question, nibbling her bottom lip while her brow furrowed in concentration.
"I don't know what to do. On the one hand, you've made several valid points. I don't think I'd like the resulting fights and tension with you that would come from the idea of completing the Rites with Theo or whoever else I have to engage in order to finish them. On the other hand, I don't want to complete them with anyone else - I don't want to complete them, period. Not to mention we've been snogging and are sitting naked in the bath together. You bloody well killed people for me and just admitted you'd have asked me to be your girlfriend last year if not for my age and the Rites and your career. So, I suppose the obvious solution is to do nothing."
"Nothing?" he frowned.
"Well, if we can't be together, then trying to be would likely result in hurt feelings all around, and that would just get too messy. I'd rather not risk losing your permanently for the sake of trying when we're currently doomed to failure," she explained.
"And just what are you proposing we do about the fact that you're coming to the Tower for the rest of the holidays? It's full of people, Baby-girl. My extended family from Norway and Finland have come to stay in preparation for the cup. Your usual room is full, and Luna's been staying with Reina, so there won't be room for you in there. Mum and Dad are planning to put you in with me, citing our close friendship and penchant for snuggling anyway."
"I'm sleeping in your bed until I go back to Hogwarts?"
Thorfinn smirked at the way her cheeks turned pink over the very idea.
"Got a problem with that?" he asked.
She blinked slowly.
"You do realise that spending that much time in close quarters with me is going to make it look like we're a couple anyway, don't you?"
Thorfinn nodded.
"The plan was that we tell my extended family that we're an item, to avoid the explanations, but yeah. You'll be bunking with me, Princess."
"And you're going to be able to bunk with me without shagging me for the rest of the summer?" she asked. "I'm not going to shove off for a bit if you decide you want to drag some other witch into bed with you and I'm intimately acquainted with your virility, Finn. I won't stand for being kicked out so you can screw someone else whilst continuing to refuse to shag me. Especially after admitting that you want to be with me."
"What do you propose?" he asked, smirking at her.
He was intrigued to find out what she might say on the matter. He wouldn't ask her to leave his bed while he fucked someone else. Hell, he wasn't sure he even wanted to fuck anyone else, ever again. But he knew he would, eventually. It was inevitable. He'd fly into a rage the next time she snogged or shagged someone for the sake of the Rites, and then he just knew he'd fuck some other witch.
"In regard to you not shagging? Or in reference to your virility whilst sharing with me?" she clarified. "Honestly, I already offered myself to you and you turned me down, Finn. You decide what you want to do about it. Keep in mind that I will be right there, in bed with you every night until I return to school o you return to Ireland."
She stared at him seriously, those chocolate eyes boring into him in such a way that he almost wanted to squirm in his seat.
"I did say I'd consider the idea of shagging you when you're not traumatised, Princess," Thorfinn reminded her. "The questions becomes, do you want to shag me badly enough that you'll do so without being in a committed relationship with me and knowing that at the end of the summer, you'll go back to school to complete the Rites and I'll likely return to being a bloody rake until I can have you without those stupid fucking Rites hanging over us."
"In other words, you want to shag me without the strings of dating me," she deadpanned.
"Don't say it like that, Princess," Thorfinn sighed. "I can't pull off an open relationship with you. Not without murdering people. Hell, I want to murder that kid of Nott already for touching you, even though I shag around all the bloody time. It's hypocritical, but it's how I feel."
She stayed silent for so long after that, Thorfinn began to think she might be angry with him. She didn't look it, but who really knew how the mind of a witch worked?
"Essentially you're torn between having anyone find out you're shagging a minor, whilst continuing to want to do so," Hermione surmised.
Thorfinn supposed that was the case. He shrugged his shoulders at her, unsure how to make it plainer. The fact was, he wanted her. Badly. But she was young, right now she was traumatised, and the entire summer was going to be torture if they weren't doing something. She was still very young, but if she was going to be losing her virginity, Thorfinn wanted to make bloody sure that it would be to him.
"Well, this is shaping up to be an exciting summer, in any case."
Thorfinn snorted at her words, watching as she spun right back around in the water and reclined back against his chest once more, apparently choosing to leave the topic alone for the time being. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head as he encircled her slim form with his strong arms, thinking that the sooner he could get her home to Rowle Tower, the better everything would be.
