A/N: REVIEW REPLY TO NAY NAY( ofc the 'critique' would be from guest accounts) : Don't like it? Don't read it. This fic is going in an opposite direction from the show so that's your loss, not mine. Not magic enough? This fic explores more of that after chapter 10 but afterall magic isn't the main storyline. Thanks for reading.
PSA: Hermione is not Beck and will never be Beck.
Sliding across his right and left limbs across the room, he spun around, arms entranced in the air. Fresh out of the shower, he felt as if every painful memory had slipped from his fingertips.
He hummed a soft tune that had been playing on repeat on the wizarding wireless, arms flailing like a carefree wizard he was. Beaming as he slowed down his energetic movements, his eyes fell onto the brunette who was dozing off soundly.
After slipping on some clothes, Tom waltzed over to the bed and watched her. He had every speck of freckle under her eyes memorised, the two tiny moles on her chin and the few beauty spots on her neck that he so wished to suckle on. It was a morning routine Tom had found himself accustomed to: watching his witch. Just as he was about to kiss her cheek as she slept, a soft moaning sound alerted him to her awakening.
"Hi." Her eyes blinked furiously, she groggily greeted him, yawning. Her voice is gruff yet soothing. " What time is it, Tom?"
"Morning, Hermione." He whispered to her." It's eight o clock right now."
She nodded faintly and stretched out her arms above her head to let out another sleep bellow. " "Since it is early, Tom- do you want to make some pancakes together? I'm feeling ravenous now."
Tom nodded, smiling." Sure I love pancakes, do you want to help out with the fruit cutting?"
Mornings with Hermione were the best. Being out of the orphanage, Tom was glad to escape the horrendous gruel that was served daily. Living on his own had taught him many culinary skills, including a cure for gruel: sweet breakfast treats and of course, milk chocolate. A feisty witch was a nice condiment.
With their morning plan set, both of them got out of bed while laughing merrily about their day ahead. Tom loved this, the warmness he felt when he was around her. He just wanted to hold her there in the bed and never let her go. Their plans were also packed: Hermione intended to do some work while Tom intended to further his research on the runic scriptures in the Ancient Americas. Could life get any better, just him and his witch alone?
"Have you heard about the Mayan Pyramids?" He enquired, while the batter sizzled crazily on the pan. A small test for her, she would have heard about them before.
"Definitely," Hermione hummed while the sound of a knife on wood echoed throughout the tiny flat. " What's with the question anyway? Are you going to ask me if I think extraterrestrials helped to build it, Tom?"
He chuckled, his witch certainly had a quirky sense of humour. " No, I just stumbled upon a book where it mentioned there were ancient Mayan runes that were undecipherable even with modern knowledge. ' WIZARDING MYSTERIES THAT BOGGLE US TO TODAY', have you ever read that book before Hermione? "
"Yes, I have at Bott's." She grinned and said in a bossy tone." Isn't that book a bunch of made-up rubbish for kids, though? I'm sure there's no runic scripture I myself can't translate. Give me the book, half an hour and we can see about 'undecipherable, Tom."
He loved her determination. Flipping the fluffy desserts onto two plates, Tom chuckles as he approaches her, ruffling her cognac curls. Hermione giggled at that. "Will do, Hermione. I'll pass you the book later. But for now, let's get to breakfast. One can't study on an empty stomach, I can assure you that!"
Tom was counting the hours down to 10 at twilight. Hermione had agreed on the night earlier that they would attend the lavish event. That night's party would be their first appearance in public as an unofficial couple. On the other day, Lucretia's snowy owl dropped off their invitations and a portkey. Just as she had told them, Ignatius Prewett's 25th birthday party was happening at a Black villa situated in Manchester. It appeared Hermione's inner circle was starting to see him as Hermione's partner, that was a good sign for Tom. Life now just felt so right with Hermione, it was perfectly balanced as all things should be.
Things were certainly looking up for Tom, post- mindreading, the Scamander tragedy. He would finally be that man, the one who is by her side and protecting her. Hermione was finally moving on from Scamander, he was sure. Two days was enough to show that he was the glue to her broken life- he spent hours cooking, talking and simply knowing her as a person. Some may say that relationships take time to nurture and grow but for their relationship, it was a completely different story. They were always meant for each other. Hermione and him. At the end of the road, they will find themselves side by side. Time had no impact on it.
He knew somewhat that Hermione sensed that too. Her genuine smiles, her intimate talks with him. She trusted him, in a way. Slowly but surely, she would divulge her real background to him. Was she truly a homeschooled muggle-born prodigy from the Big Apple? Was she even the Hermione Granger he knew of?
Tiny moments like these happened often.
Magicking a jar of chocolate chips into his hand, Hermione smiled." Is that Honeydukes milk chocolate chips? Ohhh I love it."
Tom chuckled, thrusting the jar to her." Have some."
She sighed." No, it's bad for your teeth. I think I'll stick to berries and cream."
"Oh come on, Hermione." He smiled." Live a little!"
He poured the jar onto her plate and said firmly." I know you love it. One chocolate meal won't kill you, Hermione."
Breakfast had been a slow occasion. He spent every second of it remembering the curve of her smile, how her usually fair cheeks would turn a rosy hue when he laid his eyes on hers, how her eyes would have that triumphant glint in them as they talked about their interests. Soft dessert passing through her pink likeness. Tom had that one person who could understand him and that person was Hermione. The chocolate never tasted so sweet.
A spot of the milky darkness was stained on his lip as he took another chew out of the desert. Their eyes stayed fixated on each other as her hand gently blotted the napkin across it. When he held onto her wrist and smiled." I'm really glad that we met, Hermione." She returned a shy smile, her whiskey eyes drooping with a hushed." Likewise."
You see, Hermione. This is what I like about us. They were in a reciprocal relationship. He cared for her and so slowly was she. She was meant for him. He would never let her go from him. She was his.
Listening to her words, a smile braced his lips. Mine.
After their lengthy breakfast, Tom and Hermione got straight to work. He found himself slouching on the couch, the aforementioned book in his left while he squinted at the messy runes printed on the yellowed parchment that had boggled his mind for a while, while Hermione huddled at the desk by the window.
He had been able to translate a quarter of the ancient text but it seemed weeks of the remaining parts were long spent, the Mayan runes had a special twist to it that differed from the runes used in Western Europe. The book had stated that the Mayan runes were a forgotten language of the Ancient Americas and not even modern natives could read a single word of it. However, Tom was sure within a few hard hours and perhaps a little help from his favourite witch could solve this so-called 'mystery' that baffled magical archaeologists for centuries.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Tom?" The brunette's nest of curls poked up from her gigantic stack of scribbles. Her eyes fell onto the book he was reading. " Was that the book you mentioned? Do you need some help with that?"
To be honest, Tom was feeling reluctant about having to ask her for an assistant. Was he not the most intelligent wizard over this century? Having to resort to asking a mudbloo- Tom shook off that thought and bared a sheepish smile. " Indeed."
However, it could be possible Hermione held a few hints about the text in his hand. She was such a mystery, after all.
"Accio Tom's book." The book flew from his hands and landed safely in her hands in a heap. Of course, his witch would be able to do wandless magic. Hermione was simply divine.
He watched as the brunette buried herself into the heavy parchment and narrowed her eyes at the complicated writings. While she read and moaned at the complexity of the topic, his eyes were on how that burgundy sweater of hers rubbed against her skin, the untainted cresses of her soft lips and how she bit on that wooden pencil between her lips, how tiny she was as compared to the tattered leather chair she was crouched on.
"Tom?"
"Yes?" He said, meeting her eyes once more when he was bolted from his deep thoughts about the brunette.
" I think I may have a clue or two regarding what these writings are saying. By the way, could I have some of your notes? " She stated, her hand reaching out.
Tom nodded and sent the wrinkled pile of parchment flying onto her table.
Hours passed, it turned out they spent more time on Tom's little research assignment than their own individual tasks. Hermione had only been able to continue the next few lines after his translation and she told him that she might know someone who had secondary texts to supplement translation. However that meant weeks of waiting, Tom was eager to find out what was the meaning behind those tainted red marks across the temple walls in the treacherous jungle.
She said frustratedly, wincing at Tom. " Besides, we don't want to mess it up, Tom. Honestly, we have to be patient, Benny is a talent- I am sure by January we will have answers. "
Benny. A simple name that held no ring to it. He wanted to know who he was. How he was related to his witch. It better not be one of those nasty lechers after her, or else Tom might have a couple of fewer hours that week.
Tom laid on the couch, the open book resting on his forehead.
Hermione sighed as she grabbed the book. Swatting his shoulder lightly with the book, she said exasperatedly. " Why did they have to be so secretive about everything? I simply don't get it. Now this little puzzle will be droning my mind, so kudos to you Tom for my upcoming bid of insomnia!"
He moaned an 'ouch' which earned him another hit from her. Ah, his feisty little Hermione.
"Let's get to work before dinner and get dressed " She said firmly." At least, we'll be able to get some progress in."
Dinner was an awkward occasion, Tom constructed a quick meal of spaghetti bolognaise. The flat was filled with the fragrant smell of basil and meaty sauce.
His brunette waltzed in from the living room, the book in her hands. He turned to her as she gasped." No, you did not, Tom. I can't believe-"
"Happy early christmas?" He joked. It was her favourite meal, the first personal fact he knew about her. It had to be perfect. When he had delved into Hermione's life and visited her flat, he noticed there were many red stained takeouts boxes on the counter. He wanted to vanish her work frustration with the plate of pasta and so it did. Multiple consultations with various recipe books had perfected his recipe- well mostly, it was him 'asking' the chef of the italian restaurant Hermione frequently patronised. By that he meant using one of his favourite spells on the reluctant man.
A bright smile appeared on her face, " I can't wait for us to have dinner together again."
Tip one of making Hermione happy again, he was very grateful for that short moment of comfort between the two of them because little did he know, the question was bugging him again. Are you going to cave into the little words she is going to throw at you, Tom?
At that moment on his shoulders stool two figures, angelic white and metallic red, the angel and the devil. The angel lifted his feathery wings, whispering into his ear. " Tell her, Tom. Tell her everything."
On the other hand, a red caricature of him with horns settled between his dark curls, flew swiftly around him. Tom's eyes followed the sneering creature. " That mudblood doesn't need to know anything. Lord Voldemort, you are much more capable of settling down with a tainted filthy being like her. She has no consent. She belongs to you. Take it, take everything from her."
With that, black and white crashed into each other.
His witch was indeed a curious little one.
"What's that ring on your finger, Tom?" Hermione curled an eyebrow, talking in between bites of the noodles. "Merlin, this is so delicious- anyway, I didn't think you were one for flamboyant!"
Tom choked on the food, a few squeaks came from him as he tried to settle himself down. He was certainly not-! Did Hermione really see him as that? He had to rectify this issue before it manifested into something worse.
"Are you alright, Tom? " She said worriedly, her hand reaching out to his. He immediately shook her dainty softness off his skin, hissing internally at the loss of her.
"Yes, I am-ahem, fine. Ahem!" He coughed countlessly before his breathing settled to normal, whispering." I'm alright."
His witch turned a shade of pink. " If you're not comfortable-"
"I can assure you, Hermione." Tom said stiffly. " I am far from being a poofter."
A soft laughter burst out across the table, Hermione laughed. " S-sorry, Tom, seriously you are on point with the jokes today!"
While she laughed, his mind was racing. What would he say about its true properties? A lie would be easy though, wizards often wore jewellery as opposed to the backward muggle men. Perhaps her muggleborn heritage had muddled her consensus on his ring.
The summer of Warren's death, he had visited his father and his pathetic family living in the quiet village of Little Hangleton. The shrill screams coming from the elderly Riddle father and son did sound terribly delightful, now he was thinking about it. When the green light greeted the family of three, Tom had remembered smiling while watching the lifeless faces. Morfin's ring was the only treasure the man held, Tom was glad to help out his uncle by using it for a true cause. If anyone asked him what he truly wanted in the whole world, he would answer: an escape from death. The ring was a key to it.
He had thought about this over the course of the two days and after much contemplation, he reached one conclusion- she was not ready to know. What would she say? Say about his past? How miserable and pathetic his sallow self was? He needed time.
"Haha," He forced out before baring his teeth." So Hermione, what is your favourite book title?"
Soon time came for them, Tom got himself dressed in the living room while Hermione pottered behind the makeshift curtain surrounding the bed area. The wizarding wireless played as Tom sunk deeply into his thoughts once more. He was curious to see how his witch would dress herself- being with him meant future dinner invitations with his followers. He was not a person who cared much about his appearance, but being an aspiring dark lord required a lot of dressing up to do. His dark robes usually did the trick. Perhaps Hermione would wear a matching black dress with him in the future, he mused.
It was just then the wizarding wireless had stopped due to intermission, leaving a grey silence lingering around the room. The curtain dropped and so did his jaw. There she was, in a light silver robes that tugged tightly to her body, accentuating her soft curves. The usually wild hair of hers was now tamed into sleek curls that cascaded down her back. His Adam's apple bobbled as she approached him slowly, a seductive dance through her innocent walk. Hermione tilted her head to meet his eyes as her fingers grasped his red tie, she whispered slowly." What do you think, Tom?"
He let out a guttural groan as his eyes looked down on the low cut of her dress revealing ample cleavage of her firm breasts. Fuck Tom, control yourself. Oh how much he wanted to tell her that all he wanted was to tear off that dress of hers and fuck her mercilessly.
"Hermione, you look… beautiful." In his mind were much more crude words that were begging to be blurted out. Ravishing, nymp-
She bit her lip. " Thank you, Tom."
Her eyes looked at him up and down, grinning." I think I would have to protect you from the ladies that are going to pounce on you there. Do you mind?"
He chuckled lowly. " No, I don't. Well then, we should both protect each other. Can't imagine having a sleazy man laying a single finger on you, do you know what I would do to him?" She could because his hands had already been stained by foreign blood. What would she say if she truly knew?
Giggling, she swatted against his chest lightly. " Well, having said that I think I would need to refine my claws then. These ladies stand no chance against me."
Tom's bright smile remained as he mused to himself, it seemed as though they had found a common ground. Ah, his brilliant little mudblood witch and her fiery spirit.
"Alright, it's getting around ten. Hopefully, Lucretia didn't send us the wrong portkey." She said, moving away from Tom. He did not know what she was referring to and he did not want to.
Leering as she bent down to pick a glass object up from the table, her short dress pulled up to reveal slightly of a white lace knicker. He placed a blank expression on when she turned back around. She said excitedly. " Ah, fingers crossed!"
As his fingertips grazed across the surface of the glistening cube, the brunette laced her fingers through his. They felt slightly icy as compared to his but he was definitely sure he could warm her up some way. She gave him a comforting smile as the grandfather clock struck ten and he found himself torn from the confinement of the beige room and into a whirlwind of grey.
He opened his eyes, he found her still grinning and holding ever so tightly onto his hand. They were both kilometres high above the ground, their prim robes fluttering in the air. She mouthed, " This is amazing, isn't it?" When he was about to open his mouth to say yes -the edge of his vision flashed with colours of a monochrome palette scheme, swallowing them both into the never-ending pit hole.
Their feet landed on the ground with a soft thud, in front of them stood a grand manor which was a colossal affair of any he had seen from his visits to his various followers. His lips parted as Hermione smoothed out her robes, smirking at him." I wish I could have taken a snapshot of your reaction. You look like you have bitten a snake yourself!"
"Cheeky little witch." Tom chuckled before retorting, vanishing the cube." So are we going to go in or not?"
His brunette chortled loudly. Suddenly when he took his hand in hers, Hermione immediately stiffened, making him raise an eyebrow. As they both trapezed through the growing swarms of the wizarding elite that were dressed in fine furs and jewels that went like moths to the glowing yellow from the innards of the spanking marbled building. Tom snorted to himself. Was he going into a circus or was he the circus itself for allowing Hermione and him to attend such a party? The two of them had better things to do than sentimental birthdays and sickening party leisure.
The sweetness of fresh citruses overwhelmed his olfactory senses, Tom immediately gagged at the tacky aromatic surrounding the mausoleum as he fought the urge to dash out of it. But he needed to be here, he needed to show his witch that he was going to be there for her no matter what. This was a necessary sacrifice and Tom would do it over and over again if it meant it made Hermione happy. Besides, who knows? Maybe he could find a competent follower or two amongst these brainless fools.
One look and I can tell you, not my crowd. Tom shivered to himself as he watched the leather heels click against the cold stone. The scaled creature had to be skinned to be put on such monstrosity. His natural friend was now being squished between the floor and being worn by a pompous woman who was preaching praises to his infamous buddy, Joseph Prewett.
The woman enthused to the man with a thin moustache above his lips. " We are all so lucky to have the Ministry Of Magic! Darling Carraway, oh remember Joey? He was that magical polo friend of yours, right? The man who solved the Greens and Longbottom cases, right? What a brave man, finding and arresting those nasty nasty depravity they call men!"
If only she had seen the photos Tom had in possession, she would have fallen off her bulbous feet.
The man's moustache twitched, he slung his arm around her shoulder. "Indeed, we are lucky."
Tom could see his face fighting to keep the smile on. Obviously, it seemed that he was not the only one who knew of Prewett's antics.
Shaking his head, his eyes fell on the intricate carvings of marble lining up the hallways that were lit up by fluttering candles held up on pristine candelabras. A sculpted couple of a towering man and woman stood the most attention in the middle of the waiting hall, Greek Hades and Persephone. It seemed as if he and Hermione were the only ones intrigued by the sculpture, out of the many who passed the sculpture. she let out a soft whisper. "That's beautiful."
Tom let a smile replace the blank expression on his face and said. " I agree."
He could have seen himself and Hermione into the two static figures- the crowned man with a wispy beard, the firm arm muscles lifting the woman up who had her hands pushing him away. Two people meant to be together. A couple made in the wizarding world of hell. Him the ruler. Her, his faithful queen. And if she tried to push him away, Tom was sure he could find himself a packet of pomegranate seeds.
A soft voice awoke him from his vivid thoughts.
"Come," She told him." Lucretia's waiting for us at the East Wing, it's not going to be as wild as it is out here."
He was glad to be out of that freak show happening out in the drunkard parlour.
Tom followed her, strolling through the lavish hallways of white, a flight of domineering stairs, into a series of empty roads in emerald green. He watched, amazed by the architecture of the house. Every single part of it was perfect, not one vase left on the wrong stand. His smile diminished as hollowness overwhelmed him from the museum-like interior.
A loud female echo caught his attention.
"Hermione!" A figure in a peach coloured robe with glittery rhinestones sewed on that rivalled Walburga's finest gem from the summer of 7th year, approached them. In her hand held a clear drink and the other, a smoking fag. The brunette quickly let go of his hand like he was some kind of disease which made him avert his gaze onto her and furrow his eyebrows. Was she embarrassed?
Lucretia hugged Hermione tightly which squeezed a soft squeak from her, she said excitedly." Both of you actually came for once!"
"Privileged to be at this wonderful party of yours, Miss Black," Tom said, putting on his usual handsome grin. "I have to say you have outdone yourself. This place looks absolutely stunning like you."
Tom always had a fixed talking approach to people. It was one, smile, two, be yourself and three, compliment them. Most people liked being complimented and having their egos stroked, it usually made them compliant to his ideas. And so it did for Lucretia.
" Aw." The colour on Lucretia's cheeks matched her robes, she winked at Hermione who was still wearing a small smile on her face. " See told you, Hermione. Tom is a gentleman. Treasure him for me, will you? And Tom, it's Lucretia. After all, we have known each other for some time already."
Tom nodded. One point for him. As he expected, even her friends were starting to accept him as a common figure in Hermione's life.
Shoving the cigarette into her mouth, Lucretia said muffledly. " That's a pretty dress you have got there, Hermione. I'm guessing it's from Sherry's s?"
The brunette smiled." No actually, I transfigured it myself, Lucretia."
His mouth parted. Over the years, Tom met many witches from the higher class who were covered in designer robes- of course, his witch would be able to make anything, even a cloth rag look stunning. However, he would have preferred her to have nothing on.
She blew the grey smoke into the air which made Hermione immediately choke.
While wearing that sickly bright smile of hers, she looked Hermione up and down. Suddenly her thin fingers pinched the brunette's arm. " Have you not been listening to my advice, Mione?"
"What advice?" She questioned while averting her gaze slightly back to Tom.
" Don't take me as rude but I think Hermione, you should honestly start laying off all of the chocolate treats you've been consuming! I'm sure Tom here doesn't have a preference for bigger women, do you? Trust me, Hermione- let's start with a couple of Waldorf salads three meals a day for a few weeks and you'll be back into shape in no time."
Hermione watched her friend impassively as Tom struggled to keep his smile on his face. He for one liked Hermione whole and true. In fact, he loved her curves, it made her seem more real and raw to him, rather than the artificial bodies that were as thin as a praying mantis which prowled after him.
"Tom, tell her." Lucretia motioned to his witch before taking a sip from her cocktail, the wide smile remained on her dazed face.
Tom gritted his teeth, baring his best fake smile." Lucretia, I think Hermione and I would like to get some fresh air. We'll get going now."
Lucretia nodded, glancing at Hermione." Well, be back soon in ten because I'll need my best friend for a longer chat."
She faced Tom, beaming." Tom, if you don't mind?"
"Not a problem." He answered, smiling fakely, his cheeks felt they were going to fall off from the incessant smiles he had given her and this had only been the start of this freak show.
As Hermione and him hastily walked towards the main hall where the loud sound of trumpets and drums could be heard, Hermione murmured to him." Thanks for saving me from that, Tom."
"It's nothing." He replied, pulling her to the corner of the hallway ." Does she always discuss about your body openly in front of-"
He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it personally from her own mouth. Was her life truly a travesty from what he was seeing, or was he delusional about how her friends treated her?
" Yes." She glanced down, not facing his eyes." But I don't blame Lucretia. She's just trying to help. I mean take a look at the witches here, Tom and well look at me, what am I? Look at me, I'm ugly-"
"Hermione, you're not." Tom replied hastily, he placed his hands onto her shoulders. He gazes deep into her whiskey eyes." Ugly is not what you are. Lucretia is wrong about you, Hermione. I think you're the most beautiful witch I have laid my eyes on. Don't listen to her. "
"Oh Tom, please don't lie to me because you feel pity for me." She answered, sighing. " I know I am not—"
"I'm serious." Tom said, his hand stroked against her chin, lifting it." Hermione, you're a walking goddess. Your friend here is just trying to intimidate you because your beauty overthrows the host of the party."
"Believe me, Hermione." He told her. "You are beautiful. I don't care what you tell yourself but I'm telling you honestly from the bottom of my heart."
He watched her reaction. The brunette seemed to brighten up after his compliment but still wore some doubts about her appearance. Sighing internally, it seems her self-confidence needed some fixing by him too.
"That's sweet of you to say," She whispered."Thank you, Tom."
Instead of replying, he brings his arms around her petite form and holds her. Breathing in the faint scene of the familiar jasmine oil, he held her there for as long as he wanted in the corner of the party. Hermione, oh he loved the sound of the four syllable word rolling in the chambers of his mind. Every part of her was perfect, nothing was to change. Many so-called female figures had crawled their bony bodies after him, rare high cheekbones and matched lips had found their place in his bed, but they lacked substance. Her very imperfection. She was special, a gem to keep. That was the difference between Hermione and the numerous admirers and the reason why these pathetic feminine attribute prowlers found themselves ignored or simply told to never see him again. From the sea of witches, Hermione stood out. Oh he loved her everything.
"Hermione!" Suddenly, just as he was to admit all of those thoughts running in his head, a rarity coming from him, a blonde witch approaches the embracing couple. She sniffed. " Wow, I see uh… Thomas and you are quite busy."
The Kowalski girl just had to come in between him and his witch during an intimate moment. Surely it was not a coincidence? Tom gritted his teeth, one day the blondie would be gone and he would make that into reality. It seemed among the three of her friends, Kolwaski was the most unreceptive towards him. Was it paranoia? Was she simply wanting Hermione all to herself, no judgement but- Was she just playing this game to test his limits? The war between her and Tom had started not a few months ago in the cafe and it would end that night, he swore.
"Hi Liza." Hermione pulled away from Tom to give Kowalski a short hug. He immediately curled his fist, gritting his teeth.
"What a stunner you are." The blonde grinned, passing Hermione a glassful of clear liquid. " What are you two doing around here not joining in on the fun? Anyway here Hermione, Lucretia had specially imported some hard liquor from Russia. Think it was called Vodka or something like that. I have tasted it myself, trust me you'll love it."
She glanced at Tom." Sorry Thomas, I only had one glass for Hermione. There's plenty of this Vodka laying around, I'm sure you can get yourself replenished."
He narrowed his eyes at her before managing a smile. "I'll do that."
The last time someone had called him Thomas, they found themselves a place in the muggle insane asylum. Temptation was reigning him closer to his decision.
"In the meanwhile, Thomas- Hermione, Lucretia and I need to have some lady time to ourselves. Make yourself at home. Everyone is nice here, why don't you find someone else to talk to?" Kowalski grinned at him. "This will take some time anyway. Get yourself busy then."
Tom spluttered, fighting the urge to hex the infuriating blonde in the face. Hermione simply smiled at him and mouthed silently." Don't worry, I'll find you."
That was certainly comforting to know for Tom, however there was an unfamiliar feeling of dread that was lingering around him. He remained rooted to the ground, staring at the blonde witch emotionlessly.
"Ta ta, Thomas." Kowalski waved at him." Off you go."
"But-" He tried to argue.
"GO." Her hands shoved him away, causing Tom to enter the busy hall with a swagger and fall slightly onto a scraggly witch. The thin girl yelped, " Watch it, will you? Hey- wait are you Tom Riddle?"
His name was commonly recognised, Tom smiled smugly to himself. Soon it would not be just her and the small running witches remembering, the whole world would know him. Not Tom Riddle but his real name, Lord Voldemort. Hermione would love it.
He got onto his feet and reached out a hand for her, of which the witch beamed and grabbed. " Yes, I'm so sorry for bumping into you. Are you alright? Any injuries or bruises forming?"
She smiled shyly." No, I'm alright. My name is Anastasia Johnson, just call me Ana. I don't think you remembered but I did a prefectorial round with you in fifth year. Remember big glasses, acne eh?"
Oh he did, his past memories of her swam with utmost detest. Not only she was an awful looker, she had been late an hour into the aforementioned round. He had to deal with a situation that was a gryffindor prank on slytherins, which ended up in a long student battery report he had to write for Dippet. If she had been there, he swore he could have avoided that long night of inconvenience. Though her appearance had definitely improved and that she could be considered pretty, she was a pretentious guest of this party, another rich daddy seeker like most witches her age. Tom wanted far away from her.
"If you don't, it's okay! Do you want to dance with me? I mean you were such a good dancer from what I have heard from Lily Lima-"
Annnnd she is a stalker too. Tom internally blanched. Could she get anymore desperate for attention? Could he just walk this off since this whole conversation started from an accident? He had to act fast, before she decided snogging him was a good way to start the night.
"I wish I had more time to talk with you." He said apologetically." But Ana, I'm involved with someone."
"I didn't know- I'm sorry." She stammered." I'll leave now, lest your girl chases me down for stealing her wizard."
"Thank you, Ana." For once, he was glad his inherited genes from his filthy father was useful.
The reddened girl brushed past him, Tom released a loud sigh of relief. His eyes glazed over the crowd of glam and narcissism, groaning when she was nowhere to be found. He sighed to himself. It's going to be a long night for you and I, Hermione.
His gigantic frame brushed through the crowd with a couple of fox trox dance moves, he had also managed to find himself a glass of that strange Eastern European drink. The witches that embraced him wore wide smiles with odd coloured rouge painted across them, was he the prime attraction for the Circle Arcanus? The absubsity of this whole situation he and Hermione had landed in was abysmal.
"Hello there." A man with fiery red hair greeted him, Tom turned on his heel. He placed his grin back on, it was brighter as ever. " Hello, Mr Prewett."
So Buddy Joe was the lucky uncle of his. Well, hello how are you?
The man lets out a chuckle. " Call me Ignatius and you are…?"
"Tom Riddle, Ignatius."
He smiled." Ah, if I'm not wrong- three years ago, you have received the school's special services award. Was I not right?"
Tom raised an eyebrow. When pathetic Warren's tragedy happened, Hogwarts gifted him the special services award for capturing the culprit for her death. He was not a murderer, it was an accident. He deserved it the little trophy. But the gorilla half being and his pesky arachnid creature had to go, it was the perfect opportunity after all.
He felt himself falling back into time.
The year was 1943. The chamber was open. The basilisk's eyes had met hers.
Soft murmurs of ministry workers echoed throughout the stairwell, a tall usually jovial man stayed silent. He whispered to the aged headmaster who was standing solidly at the top of the stairwell.
His hands behind his back, Tom watched how the man's face would scrunch up and wrinkle and his chest heaving slowly. Dippet was fearful but glad. He turned to Tom who had been staring impassively at them. " Come, Mr Riddle."
Passing through the dimly lit up hallways, he swallowed as the images of her lifeless body invaded his mind. He shook it off, after all he had done nothing wrong. Myrtle was an accident. A good accident. At least mudbloods were good for something, he thought to himself.
The wooden door shut with a loud slam, his body stayed firm. Breathing controlled. Poker face on. Perfect. Only two men remained in the room, him and Dippet. An easy situation that could be mediated.
"Mr Riddle," The man started as he paced around the aged desk. " I have heard about your recent discovery about a student in our school. In regards to the dubious times we are facing right now, I am absolutely shocked about the recent incidents happening to the muggle borns in this school. I do hope you understand why you're here tonight, Tom."
He had to control the flinch of disgust at the mention of the name. Tom replied." Yes, Headmaster Dippet."
"Frankly, in all of my years as a headmaster, I have never came across a student so brilliant like you, Tom." Dippet smiled at him.
Tom swallowed, wheezing slightly from the dusty interior from the office.
"Hogwarts is lucky to have you, Tom." He said. " The saviour of the muggleborns. "
He nearly choked on the dust that was collecting in his airway. Saviour and muggleborns did not mix.
"Miss Warren's death was a cruel tragedy. " Dippet sighed, wringing his fingers. " But we are glad that her death has put a stop to the incidents endangering our students and a name too. He has been expelled. "
Tom fought the smile that was threatening to creep up onto his face.
" But this matter has gotten way out of hand. We would like to keep Hogwarts as a safe place for children. I think Mr Riddle, you know that too. " He continued."The school governors and I have decided to endow the special services award to the school onto you. Doesn't that sound delightful to you, Toml?"
Dippet believed him naturally, he was the sweetheart of the school afterall. The trophy had been a piece of junk, putting it in the trophy room was a way of ridding it. After all, it was a reminder of how Hogwarts and the ministry had tried to be hush hush about the Warren case. Besides, he was not a superficial one for awards. It did not matter much to him anyway. But who knew someone would step into that dusty enclosure and had taken an interest in the years old award?
"I heard all about you from my colleagues at the Ministry. The other day when I was at Hogwarts, I stumbled upon your award in the trophy room. " He chuckled. " Beg my pardon, Mr Riddle. Apparently you were quite an overachiever in school. Headboy. School award. Medal for magical merit. A handsome promising young wizard. Some say you're smarter than the headmaster himself and you know who over in Germany. I was quite surprised to find out that you haven't taken up the job offers sent to you, why is that the case?"
Tom smiled. Of course, he was the best. There was no dispute. " Currently I have decided to take up a job as a shop assistant. Sounds strange to most people I tell, but to me- I find it more welcoming than being a ministry worker. Possibly in the future, I might find myself dabbling into the political waters."
" Well, Mr Riddle. Do know that if you're still interested in any roles in the ministry. Owl me and I'll get back to you. I believe that you could make great changes to things around here. The ministry is in need of talent like you, Mr Riddle to handle the mess that it is right now. "
"Thank you. "
"It's no problem." Ignatius said before questioning. " So what brings you here Tom? Does Lucretia know you? Don't mind me but if my fiance offends you in any kind of way, please don't take her seriously, she isn't exactly…well endowed in the maturity department yet."
Tom silently agreed with him. Lucretia's immaturity often hurt his witch's feelings,
"I was invited through your fiance's friend Hermione." He said. " By the way, Miss Black and you are engaged?"
"Soon to be." The man smiled at him , patting the pocket of his robe. He whispers into Tom's ear." Don't tell anyone, it's meant to be a surprise."
"Understood." Tom replied, smiling." An early congratulations to your engagement, Ignatius."
"Thank you, Mr Riddle." He said. " Just now, you've mentioned Hermione right? Where did you get to know her?"
" She came in during one of my shifts and was asking me for assistance on the book she needed." He said.
"How romantic." Ignatius smiled." Lucretia and I met when I was in my 7th year. She came up to me in the library and asked me out. At first, I didn't take her seriously. But it became clear that she was serious in her interest towards me as she didn't stop following me around the school! I had even considered once to persuade Peeves to chase her away."
"But eventually I said yes when she showed me she was capable of handling her studies while engaging in a relationship. Ever since we were together, we never looked back."
" Ignatius, don't take this the wrong way but I'm curious," Tom asked. "Was the age gap a barrier between the two of you, considering that you are nearly half a decade her senior. I myself wouldn't have thought of pursuing a second-year student."
"Oh no, no. Lucretia and I found age to be just a number. We got along just swell and now look at how far we've come. " The man beamed, his head tilted to the side. Ignatius winked at him,whistling. " Is that your witch? My my, you're lucky."
Hermione was approaching them in her pretty red dress, her face wore a ditzy look. She greeted the men with a curved smile. Tom immediately gulped. " Hey fellas, does either of you happen to know where the pantheon is? I'm here to pick up a Greek God."
Ignatius chuckled," She's adorable, isn't she?"
Tom nodded. Wearing that amiable facade had certainly been exhausting for him all night but it was worth it just for his stunning witch.
"Sorry Ignatius, if you excuse me." He told him." I have a drunk witch I have to take care of." Placing his arm behind her back, he guided her as she walked slightly gingerly with him towards the secluded balcony at the back.
Her face nuzzled into his chest, she moans." Mhm, you smell so nice, like the rain."
Tom chuckled, wrapping an arm around her before ruffling her mass of brown curls once more. The tresses felt soft between his fingers. " Vice versa."
However, drunk Hermione meant trouble and so he let his magic run over her, hoping she would sober up and ask them to leave together. Hermione's widened irises returned to their normal size." W-where am i?..."
"Lucretia. Party. Me." Tom replied. "How are you feeling?"
"Sick."
"As expected, how did your lady chat go with them?"
"Truthfully," Hermione sighed, gazing down." It was quite boring. How I got sucked into aristocrats and the elite, I have no clue. They were all yammering about Ignatius would love this and that, talk about themselves."
"I just wish they had just left me out of their conversations." She said. " Besides, I thought I would have fun here coming to a party. I guess I've always thought I'll get used to Lucretia's parties but somehow I never do. "
He cleared his throat, asking firmly. "Hermione, why did you bring me here?"
She yawns, looking up at him." I don't know."
"Your friends don't seem to like me."
"But I like you, Tom. Their opinions are useless." She groaned. " Bugger this."
"I just wanted to show my friends that we are…"
"We are?" Tom pressed." What are we, Hermione? Because I don't know the answer to something for the first time in my life."
"Honestly," Hermione said, her whiskey eyes blinking furiously. She stammered, " Look Tom...just g-give some time please to think this through, will you? "
"Sure, I don't intend on rushing it with you." Enveloping her soft body onto his, Tom had never held to anyone so closely in his entire life. He was falling into a dark abyss. This was it, his last chance for second thoughts before he could never climb out of the hole that was swallowing him whole. Pulling slightly apart from her, he lifted her chin. Leaning in, he could feel the prickle of her lips against his.
Her body budges away, she tilts her head to meet his eyes. Her cheeks a familiar rosy red. "Thank you… thanks for the sobering charm, I will get going then… Lucretia is probably currently hunting me down in this villa."
She manages a smile," I guess I will see you at the cake cutting?"
His head moves mechanically and murmurs a soft "yes."
"Great, see you then." Her dainty hands waved. They were usually covered in smudges of parchment ink were now cleared of its stain, they were of a soft tan. Perfection wrapped in ten digits, begging to be taken between his lips, tongued and feasted on of their foreign sweetness.
Tom watches her figure recede into the blinking yellow lights of the extravagant house. Though no matter how beautiful its architecture was, he remembered the people that were inside it.
Damn it, fuck it, did she not want him? An almost touch of her lips, he had savoured it days ago and he would again no matter what. It was an addiction, how her sweet lips that tasted of intoxicating alcohol that drowned him in all of it.
A well-articulated voice suddenly broke his attention. "Hermione? Where were you? I need you now. Salazar, there is a reason why I don't talk to the elves!"
The brunette's tone is carefully matched to the situation, an understandable therapist to a woman with an overly-pampered princess temperament. Control of hidden frustration at the whims of Elf Slavery. "Alright Lucretia, I'm here."
A hand is placed on the witch's shoulder. " Now where are they?"
The friend passes her another of the Russian alcohol, serenading her away to the artificial problems of the wizarding elite.
Tom sighed, flicking out a packet of fags.
Hands of the clock ticked in slow motion, Tomhad strolled into the packed dance halls and busied himself with the newly-raved alcohol of the party. The clear liquid rolled onto his tongue, a rougher burn than his usual whiskey. It lacked the variety of the texture his neat drink offered him, it was a simple bitter which bored him to tears. The alcohol reminded him of the bodies around him. Bodies that they were not there for a birthday celebration. Bodies that were in that cold building, four marbled walls enclosing themselves between. Bodies that wished they could be at the top and so this place was an invitation to the wish fulfilments of make believe connections and wealth. Tom was one of these bodies. But unlike them, he would be the one dominating them and not being one of the sheep.
His sweet talk and charms had cultivated ten names that night. Three promises. They told him the usual, the " Gee this is a potential I need to cultivate. Talented, smart, handsome. If someone doesn't snatch him up, I would!" Followed after was " Funding your little group then? Oh sorry, I'm the subordinate?" Tom felt tempted by the need to 'explain' his position in his circle of followers to these fools. Simpletons they were, believing their wealth could buy their way into the position of the Minister for magic and Tom himself. While he mingled with them and conversed deeply into topics like politics and philosophy, in his mind were not intellectual facts- rather the vivid image of his witch, Hermione. If only she were beside him, it would have made this whole situation more tolerable.
As the music in the gigantic dance hall slowed and paced into silence, people were busing through the tight enclosure of the room, the herd pack moving towards the main hall. Tom stood at an empty corner, casting a tempus. 0250. He supposed the cake cutting had arrived, considering the witching hour was approaching. Following after the tail of the crowd, he groaned to himself. Where was that bushy head of hers?
"One minute to go!" He found himself standing at the front of the crowd circle after much shoving and grunts. Laughter and excitement buzzed in the air, for the main intention of the inky night was to be fulfilled. It was another of those halls, drums beat harder than ever, babel tower high feathers from over the top hair pieces swatted his cheeks. Tom tried to fit in by dancing a little, but to no avail, his feet were rooted to the ground. His body stayed stoic as he was shoved from side to side, with occasional leers from the surrounding caked faces.
The song came and went, gone were the flames on the melting wax. Tom stiffened as he took a huge gulp of vodka, an artificial bravado drink for the party goers. All he wanted was out with his witch. He would find her after.
"Make a wish!" The polished voice called out shrilly. It was then Tom realised she was standing in front of him the entire time! His witch had a small smile on her face as she stood beside the thinning woman beside her, as she fumbled with her fingers. He mouthed, " Hermione." She did not notice. All Tom wanted to do was to reach over, shake her and give her a good snog to remind her of his presence.
That was when Ignatiius fell on his knee, his fingers shuffling into the pocket as the raven haired witch's mouth gaped, a domino of gasps through the cold hall.
""My sweet ambrosia,the first day of sixth year I didn't expect to be wooed. In fact, I think some of you might remember my difficulties regarding magical care of creatures. Aren't I right, Elliot?"
"Aye aye captain!" The man called out. The audience laughed, except for Tom. Ignatius's jokes were unfunny and the only funny joke here was that he was going to marry Lucretia Black. He hoped the loud laughs from the people around him was to that.
"The least I expected... was for this pretty annoying girl to step beside my desk and pester me!"
Hermione let out a soft giggle as her foot movements stumbled. Tom frowned, it was only him that could make her laugh!
" I told her to go away and leave me alone. But how could I? As you all know by now, Lucretia is persistent when it comes to me. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, even the gryffindor tower- she was always there, trying to get me to talk. My breaking point was finding out she had topped her year. Lucretia isn't just a pretty gem, she's deep in intelligence and a real life sweetheart. I decided to follow her directions and that's how it all started. Now here we are, I love you Lucretia. You make me the happiest wizard alive. I want you and I to be a forever. So Miss Lucretia Katherine Black, will you marry me and make this silly wizard yours?"
Truthfully to say, Tom blanked out most of the process in between these short snippets of the proposal. He was bored out of his mind. This was not excitement, this was torture.
"Yes, yes!" The girl jumped up and down." I will marry you!"
"I guess that's the ending for tonight's show, folks." The man gestured to the crowd before turning on his heel. When the couple embraced the crowd, on her finger was a glinting blue diamond. The girl jumped on him, pushing a kiss onto his lips. Tom watched his witch who wore the same smile, clapping her hands lightly to the newly engaged couple.
One day, she would be wearing his ring too. Tom decided.
Hordes of tacky silken robes brushed roughly against his shoulder, the beads and feathers hitting his cheeks once more. Tom grunted, he had lost his witch after the crowd had dispersed. A stampede situation.
"Hermione-where are you?" In the sea of bodies, he felt alone. Where was his little witch? He moved towards the side hall, perhaps his witch could be there. Long and behold, he was correct. "Granger?" The brunette's body was swaying, side to side like a pendulum. Her movements were swift and languid, entrancing his very being. A seductive dance, one may add. On the table was his witch dancing to the encouragement of the wizards and witches around her that did not mean well, her curls perked up when he called her out. She shook her arse at him, giving him an eye." Hi, T-tommy…" A collection of soft chortles came from her as he attempted to grab her off that table right that instant.
"You're drunk." He said simply, just as she fell onto his chest, he gasped which released a giggle from her. "Again."
"Oh Tommy," His eyes darkened as Hermione placed a single finger on his chest, letting the lip slide slowly down the shirt as he stiffened under her intimate touch. "I just love it when you go all dominant on me."
He bit his name, usually he never liked nicknames, but this would pass- she was Hermione. If it was anyone else, he would gouge their tongue out personally.
"Hermione, we need to get you home." He shook his head. " You are simply not in the right state of mind."
She hums." No, I need to stay here and party all night!"
This happens when Hermione did not have Tom. This is one of the reasons why she needed him, his protection and care.
"Hermione," He bit out, it came out sounding more like a whine than a command. Salazar, where was his charm when he needed it? He sighed loudly. "We are going."
She stuck out her tongue, sighing ," Tommy, you're no fun."
No fun? Oh he would show her fun if she was not half pissed and shoving her tits in front of those disgusting leering fools. He grabbed her wrist, the booming drums and brass instruments were penetrating painfully into his eardrums. Her legs rocked back and off, a spineless movement beside him.
The golden arches of the doorway were metres away. However just as the two were about to leave the parlour, a familiar touch of blonde curls could be spotted.
"Hermione, why the fuck is he still here?" She was storming towards them, the heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. She turned her eyes onto her. " You said he would leave at midnight."
He furrowed his eyebrows. Kowalski was picking a fight with the wrong wizard.
"Oh," Hermione giggled." Both of you are sooo serious. Lizzy and Tommy, lighten it up a bit! Besides, I like Tommy here and he likes me. Thought sometimes-"
"He likes you?" Kowalski scoffed. " Don't go with him, Hermione. He cannot be trusted. Thomas Riddle is the last person I'd expect to like a muggleborn like you."
"What do you mean?" Hermione slurred, leaning onto Tom's arm. He felt her rubbing at his arm, her cognac eyes looking back at his. " A muggleborn like me? Blood… does not mean...anything… to Tom and I."
And the airhead blonde could not think of a better way to attack him? Blood status? It was a wrong route for her to take, especially in the political climate they were living under.
"He's nice." She admitted." I like Tommy."
His heart fluttered at her saying that. Those three words were simple, they flew at him like a caressing punch- what they conveyed had a much significant impact on him than his favourite dark art script. They say the drunk say the truth, Tom was not one to believe in urban myths, however this moment was an exception for he believed Hermione's words.
"Really? This man will harm you. Believe me." She glared at them. " He will hurt you, Hermione."
Tom scoffed to himself. Hermione was his possession. He would never hurt anything that belonged to his, in fact it was the opposite of what the silly blonde was blabbering at the moment. Kowalski was better off shopping in Paris streets as an airhead wasting her days away than criticising what he and his witch had. She should have kept her mouth shut, she should have ran far far away from him when he stepped into the cafe where he met Hermione's inner circle. Images of bloody rampage ran through his head in the moment, a wide smile crept on his face-a sturdy piece of woody bat, chains that hung the body like a pig open for slaughter, a hot knife to cut through the pink rubbery pink linguo. He could imagine every possible way to do her off, Kowalski was near the edge of the cliff and he was approaching from the back with his hands.
"I should have never let you stay with him, " She sneered, throwing her hands in the air." I was right! Tom riddle is a fucking monster."
That was what his father said to him. He could still see himself smiling.
" Look at what he has done to you, all curled around his little finger." Her finger was now jabbing at his witch. A flash of twisted ligament passed his narrowed eyes.
Hermione was a smart witch, she would never fall to the Kowalski's failed attempts to fracture their relationship. The airhead obviously had no experience talking to people.
"I don't care, you don't get to dictate my life Kowalski." The smile on his witch's face had turned into a deep scowl. Hermione hissed. " I like Tommy and he likes me!"
"Fuck you, the only thing he wants from you Hermione is to get his cock all nice and wet. Don;t be delusional, he doesn't like you- he's using you! Didn't Galton and you just break up? Hopping onto another wizard, aren't you? Are you going to become his personal mudblood whore-"A flash of flesh, loud as a clap. With a red welt forming from the smack, the blonde stumbled behind, clutching her cheek as she stared at her. Hermione gave her a glare as Tom stood, stunned.
"I don't need your protection, Elizaveta Mildred Kowalski." Hermione sniffled. " What's with the sudden bigotry? I expected more from you, you my best friend. Tommy is a nice man and he has been so kind to me. You have no right calling me those things. Leave me and Tommy along. Besides, I like his company. So stay away from me and get out of my way."
"Hermione-" The blonde attempted to hold onto the brunette. Faces around the parlour were watching them.
"Bye." The brunette pulled his arm and said. " Let's go, Tommy."
At the same time, she stumbled and fell into his chest. Letting out a sigh, he lifted her over his shoulder, sending a soft squeak from her.
"If you do anything to her, I'll hurt you." A voice came from behind, just as they were finally going to pass through that darned door. Kolwalski's.
His legs moved, he said casually as his arm tightened his hold over her waist. " No, I won't. Take care of yourself, Kolwalski. "
There was no reply. Walking away, the faint sounds of loud jazz echoed throughout the icy hallway.
"Mhm, Tommy?" The brunette perked her head up. " Where are we going?"
"Home." He told her." Home. Are you feeling cold? I could place another warming charm on you."
"No." She said before asking. Tommy?"
"Yes, my sweetheart?" He would call her that, from now on. She needed to know.
"Why… do you like me?" She hiccuped." I'm no beautiful witch."
Did he need to repeat himself twice to her? He had to thank Black for ruining the night with her nasty poems of consumption and body figure. He whispered, "Au contraire…"
A blurt comes out from her, "I think I like you, Tommy. I like you a lot more than you think I do.".
Those words were simple. So Hermione liked him. His witch liked him! He felt like a schoolboy now, his hormones raging. He was speechless, another word did not come out from him. What should he do? Say? After these months of persistent hard work, did it finally work? For the rest of the walking journey to the apparition point, he stayed silent, never forgetting the warmness of her mouth fanning against his neck.
The wireless was blasting when he had stepped back into the cold confinements of his flat, the brunette was slung over his shoulder. Loud yells from the hooligans on the street complimented his nightly background. He kicked against the wooden door as it opened to welcome the couple. Magicking it to shut along with turning the radio off, over his shoulder rested a restless Hermione. A very restless one. During their slow walk towards the shabby flats rested in Hackney, she was attempting to engage Tom in a conversation regarding uses of magic. " H-honestly though, does three wands h-welp a...hiccup! weh-wi-lard..to better convey his...hiccup!...magiccc?"
Obviously it did, but Tom did not want to tell her the repercussions of her drunken idea. Moreover, he rather liked hearing her soft mellowy voice without being taken over by his. He kept his mouth shut, smiling slightly as her soft body bounced against the cuff of his shoulder.
If he did not have magic, he swore he could have not made it back into his flat with her. She was right about the outrageous number of floors, though. He sighed, sooner or not he would move, he would find a way. Perhaps in the near future, he and Hermione could find a bigger accommodation where they could start a home of their own.
The party had been a mistake, if he could turn back the clock- he would definitely would to prevent his witch from damaging the frail artificial reputation she had built up. Her reputation meant his. However, the eyes that had witnessed the whole Kowalski Hermione fiasco were not of much significance anyway, that was comforting for him to know. The time wasted at the pathetic circus based on detestable glamour and the concept of ' friends, could have been spent with him. All Tom wanted now was a good night's sleep for his witch, she needed it.
He did not see himself doing anything else intimate with his witch that night, she had outrightly rejected at the beginning of the party. That almost kiss. Her earlier admittance to favouring him could be taken with a pinch of salt, her muddled brain was not able to decipher between fiction and reality. His heart had dropped many levels, Tom was determined though to convince her otherwise but that was for the days to come for her and him. However, when his arms were slipping her lithe body onto the plain sheets, the brunette acted on her own accord.
"Sta-Hermione, what-" The presence of her soft lips planted on his, caught Tom off guard. Her hands pulled him closer. He had missed this, oh he could not process the thoughts that were running through his head. He could not resist this sweet treat he was addicted to. Their arms moved up and down each other, his body loosened and he leaned in deeper, wanting to lose himself in all of her glory and awaiting pleasurable senses. His hard covered appendage brushes up and down her front. However a loud reminder jolts him awake, he twists himself away from her petite form, leaving behind a frowning witch.
"W-what's w-wrong hiccup! Tommy…? D-don't...hiccup!you l-like me?" She slurred, the look of joy from her face was completely wiped off and was replaced with an unreadable expression. She continued, questioning him in between her alcohol fueled jargon. " I-is it because...hiccup! I-i'm a m-mudblood?..."
Her voice was frail, lingering fear. What did she want to hear? That she was not tainted? But he did not say that, for what she had spouted was not the truth. The truth was rather rare in Tom's nature. Hermione was afterall the only mudblood he had not thought of harming, rather protecting and frankly, it scared him.
"You're drunk, out of your mind. Hermione." He told her firmly, brushing her curls away that was covering her face. " Get some sleep, I'll prepare some dreamless sleep and water for you."
The witch who was slung against the pillows, frowned deeply before spluttering. " No!"
Walking away from her, Tom left for the kitchen. Truthfully he could have used a summoning spell, but he needed some space and time to think. A drunk Hermione. A cock that was increasingly growing hard. Did not bid any good repercussions.
Their first kiss was an unforgettable experience, it truly was. Ever since it happened whenever Tom had a lunch break, he would huddle over to the toilet, sit down, pull down his trousers and cock. He would fist it. His eyes would shut as memories washed over him with her warm lips and soft hands that grazed his body, wishing for more instead of innocent kisses and touches. When he left, his cock was still not satisfied. Just thinking about his Hermione routine had started to arouse him even more. Tom sighed, he hated this, how this mudblood witch reigned so much control over him. He was tempted to ask her if she had slipped him a strong love potion before. His fingers brushed through his dark locks agitatedly. "S-salazar's balls!"
What was he to do upon returning? Did he want to truly take what was his from the start, at that moment? Well, now he did it. His witch wanted him, his desire all along. Tom wanted to fly near the sun, now his wings had melted, he was falling into the ocean where he was to drown. But the ocean did sound inviting though, clear waters with turquoise bubbles, brimming with life. It was vast, unexplored. He wondered beneath the murkiness of it, what surprises did it hold?
Shaking himself from his incessant thoughts, Tom summoned the potion and a glass of water. He sauntered back into the living room, turning his back to her. He did not want to face Hermione now, for all he wanted was to push the brunette onto the mattress and ravish her. Control. She was drunk and he was sober. Their first time needed to be something special, not a sweaty romp from two randy people. He hears the soft sips of water and throaty sounds of swallowing.
As he took off his cufflinks, another rustling sound caught his attention. When he turned back around, his eyes bulged. She was quickly divesting her clothes off, the silver robes on the floor and heels tossed to the corner. The tiny bottle laid abandoned on the nightstand while her hips were humping eagerly against the white sheets, between her lips rolled out moans . " Tom…"
"Hermione? What are you doing?" He exclaimed as her languid movements slowed down, she stared at him with a sultry look on her face. Laying in the bed with a bra in his house colours and the white knickers from earlier, she giggled. " Mhm I love it when you try and act so oblivious with me. You are so adorable when you do that, Tommy."
His eyes darkened, taking in what was happening in front of his eyes. This could not be real. He swore Hermione would have been a Gryffindor if she had been a student at Hogwarts because this was a brave move she was making. The green set of lace encasing around her firm breasts was begging to be torn off, along with the angelic knickers covering the treasure.
She bit her lip, staring at him innocently. "Tom, I want you to shag me. "
"What?" His witch wanted to do what? Blood was rushing through his veins, his heart thumping hard. He had dreamt about this for months. Seen it enacted out in his waking dreams, when his curved fingers were rubbing up and down his hard shaft, the curly haired witch was smiling with her small hands fisting it instead.
"Shag. Fuck. Love making." She continued, giggling. " I know you want it, Tom. I caught you staring at my knickers earlier today."
He should have packed up and ran for the hills. No wonder she had been acting so strangely the entire night, perhaps next time he should be more discreet about it.
"But I can't." He stammered. "You're drunk, you have no idea what you're asking from me. Hermione, I'm not a nice man when it comes to the activities in the bedroom, I don't think you would like what I would do to you."
Oh this was bad, this was so bad because he did not expect this stage of their relationship to arrive so quickly. Well yes, he had seen this scene in his head a million times but - salazar, the things he would act to this half naked mudblood laying on his bed.
" Oh Tom, aren't you a wizard?" She slurred, laughing slightly " Besides, I like it rough- what do they call it? I don't know- I'll be your slave and you'll be my master! Just fuck me, Tom. Shag me till this bed breaks!"
He forgot that part, amidst his earlier panicking. Immediately his magic got to work on the brunette, she opened her eyes again but still the smirk remained on her face. " Sober now and I still want you to fuck-"
This was the last straw, Tom immediately pounced on the witch. She let out guttural moans as he pressed his lips against her. He missed this, he missed her lips so much, he was sinking into it. She said she wanted to be his slave? Well now he was her master, she needed to know her place. Placing harsh kisses against her nape, his fingers traced against the lace covered nipples which released squeaks from her. " Yes, Tom! Yes!"
"Oh Hermione." He moaned before suckling at the sensitive spot located under her ear. " You feel so g-great."
"Tom!Tom!Tom!" She squealed as he nipped down on her neck, staining it with marks he was sure would turn a bright purple for him tomorrow. He liked it a lot, Hermione was his property after all.
His fingers ripped apart the lace covering her tits and he plastered a rough kiss on her lips, sending another giggle from her. He would start with those breasts first. Her nipples pebbled in the cold air, areolas dusty pink as he had seen from their first meeting. Fuck, he was finally touching her. She was not a ghost, not a fantasy, she was real. The witch he met in Borgins. He kisses her once more. Yes, it was Hermione. His Hermione.
Lips brushing up her smooth skin, he laced them onto the firm nipples that had stood out. His hands periodically cupped and pressed them together. They were a perfect fit. He nipped at the sensitive pink nipple, tasting cherries from the body wash she used. A soft gasp comes from her, breasts heaving up and down.
He would play with her. A cat and mouse game. Pinching her nipples, Tom whispered. " Do you want my cock in your pussy?"
"Answer me, Hermione." Another pinch at her right nipple.
"Your cock belongs in my pussy, Tom." She beamed. " Fuck me in any way you want to."
Tom let out a roar, hearing that. His lips ran down her chest, nipping and leaving tiny bites behind. She was his, he needed to mark it. He felt extremely proud, his nips around her navel read: MINE. She would love it when she looked at her body in the mirror the morning after.
"Spread your legs for me, darling." He commanded. "Take off those knickers."
The lace slung to the corner of the room, her thighs moved apart with a voluntary moan. " Fuck me, Tom!"
"Let's see how wet you are for me, sweetness." Tom purred as he approached the apex between her milky thighs. He let out a groan, it was even better than he had expected- those pink folds he had seen from the window, those dancing images from Galton's flat, they were glistening for him.
"You're wet."The words rolled from his tongue simply.
Hermione let out another giggle, giving him another sly look. " All for you, Tom. I was wet the entire time we were at Lucretia's."
"You are killing me, witch." Resting above her cunt was a trimmed patch of damp brown curls, something he appreciated as it made her feel more real rather the plain hairless Janes he used to fuck. He groaned before diving straight to the feast. How did he even manage to control himself and not pull up her robe during the event?
A soft contemplative lick at her bud, immediately made her thrust up her hips. So sensitive to his touch. She was meant for him. Her body responded only to his touch. He bet Scamander never made his witch feel this way. He would do better than those sleazy wizards she had slept around with. Hermione would only remember him, after this!
Her juices ran down his chin as his meaty tongue licked and sucked at the darkened labia, his fingers prying her folds apart alike to a precious rose blossoming. It tasted tangy with a hint of honey sweetness, he was addicted. He never wanted anything more to drink up the juices that were currently dripping down her folds. Her hips thrust and budge with his head between her legs, a fitting position he never expected himself to never leave. Her fingers run through his dark locks, encouraging him with her moans, pushing his mouth deeper into the pink delicacy.
His thumb rubs circles onto the begotten precious pearl that was protruding out, the first graze of it sends her into a frenzy as she moaned out his name loud." Tom!"
Hearing that his cock stiffened, he wanted more. He wanted her to scream his name with those pretty lips. Her legs were caging his head in between her soft kissed thighs, he never wanted to leave his pink gem.
Soft mews came from her as he licked her from her wet folds to the forbidden puckered hole settled below it, her fingers were pulling his locks closer to her. Dripping from her was juices that were so distinctively Hermione, a sweet honey like how imagined she would taste like. He would drink her all up. What was this oasis? Tongue swiping across his lips tasting the familiar honey, a finger stroke against her weeping pussy to maintain the moans from her.
He releases his tongue from her folds as Hermione waggled her tongue at him before bring her index finger periodically between her moist lips. Tom's eyes darkened. She sucked on it, never leaving his eyes. Oh that deviant witch, he would show her. But not now, Salazar his cock was leaking. He needed to be inside her.
Her fingers unbuckled the belt, shoving down the underclothes.
A few strokes and a look from Hermione, he was ready. Positioning his tip at her cunt, he slid it upon and down. Hearing the slick noises of their combined fluids mixing together, Tom bit his lip. The brunette's curly locks were sticking to her face, her pink lips opened in a small o, the rosiness of her cheeks had spread to the front of her breasts. The look of heaven on her pretty face. She mewled continuously as his cock travelled her folds. "Please, please, please."
Fuck, he could not take this any longer. Her soft breasts bounced as he buried himself to the hilt, her cunt walls immediately grasping tightly onto his hard sensitive cock. The obscene sounds of his cock entering her cunt needed to be played on the wireless continuously. Tom let out. " Hermione!"
"Harder, Tom!" She encouraged him. " Your cock belongs in my pussy."
Tom moaned, he did not want to leave her hot little cunt and it felt the same too because it was currently pulling hard on his tip. She was so tight. They fitted perfectly. However, a little adjusting was needed for her to adjust to his size. He stayed, staring into those whiskey eyes before kissing her lips. They molded each other, his fingers running through those once neat curls, tossing them up into a frizzy mess.
"O-OK," Sweat was dripping down his face as he gripped her thighs so tightly that they would leave behind bruises. His cock slid out of her cunt, only the purple head remaining. The hardened velvet stretched the awaiting pink hole that accommodated the girthy thickness and length. Her arousal soaked the shaft. The smack of his balls against her cunt would play on his head over and over again.
Here he went again, Tom was biting hard on his tongue. His swollen cock was throbbing as he pulled out a few inches more. Out and in. Balls hit cunt. Alright… what should he do now? Fuck, his balls were tingling. Pull out...slowly… no! Pressure had built up, it was stiffening. To the tip once more… bright light hit him as his hips jerked into hers, sending gasps from her.
Groaning, "Fuck!" Warmness came out of him, he had counted it… seven seconds, seven fucking seconds! Not even three thrusts in, he had already come before her. Salazar's balls, this could not be happening!
His cock was softening as it slid out of her cunt. He wanted to watch his seed drip down out of it, down her thighs. But he could not bring himself to. It was another reminder of his failure. His body slumped over to the other side of the bed, his mouth gaping.
"Um." Came out of her mouth.
Her fingers reached periodically under the sheets to touch herself as Tom watched the ceiling silently, biting his lip. In his mind held loud and angry thoughts: How could he be so weak? How could he lose control? Most of all, losing control in front of his witch? He barely lasted seven seconds into his thrusting. Fuck, he was even worse than Scamander and that was saying something. This was their first time and he could not even last before her? He fucked it up. What could he even say to make up for this? He wished he could penetrate himself not into her body but into her mind again. To see how horrific her inner thoughts were about his specular performance in bed.
It was a major turning point in them. Hermione and him. But will she be able to bring herself to offer her body to him again after his supposedly brilliant bedroom performance? He bet not. He wanted to obliviate her. His thoughts was racing, chest constricting, he could not breath.
Shooting up the bed, he slipped on his clothes, never once looking back at her.
Tom needed a drink. Fast.