A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I can't believe there are only two chapters left after this one...it's really gone by quickly. If you are celebrating, I hope you have a good, safe Thanksgiving later this week! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought about chapter eleven and be on the lookout for chapter twelve next week!

June 1945

Tom missed Hermione.

It was hard not to think of her every waking moment now that he knew what she felt like under him. And, they were barely separated by distance. She was just a short walk through the castle away, if he wanted to see her, even if it was only for a moment.

But, Tom was still an ambitious wizard and he had other wants and desires besides just being with Hermione. If he wanted to continue on his path to power, he knew that he needed to take time revising for his NEWTs. It wasn't merely enough to pass his exams - he needed to do the best at them, to prove to everyone that he was as capable as he said he was.

He spent most nights in the library with the rest of his friends, studying up until curfew. Even Gus and Louis, who were normally keen to slag off studying, had joined them knowing that the NEWTs were important to their futures.

Tom supposed it was good for Hermione to get used to him not being around all the time. Of course, when he was working at the Ministry after graduation, he would be away from her for stretches of time. He could at least hope to come home to her after a hard day's work.

Hermione might have her own ambitions outside the home, too. He wasn't so stupid as to believe that she would be happy being a homemaker. And, despite his wishes that he could lock her up in a tower of his own making, he knew that Hermione would kill him before submitting to such a future.

She'd been quite reticent about what she wanted to do with her life, but he supposed it would be hard to focus on the future when you were a captive. She was a very talented witch, though, so he was sure that she would be able to do whatever she set her mind to. He would possibly need to speak with Brutus about pulling some strings to allow her to sit for examinations over the summer if she was going to work somewhere.

But all of that would have to wait for when they left Hogwarts.

When the library closed down for the evening, the Slytherin boys would make the journey down to the dungeons together. Louis and Gus would complain that they'd never studied so hard in their lives, and Alfie would tease that maybe they wouldn't have to if they bothered to keep up with their lessons. Evan would repeat his nervousness for the Charms exam, and Edmund would give off that air of superiority like he wasn't even concerned about his results.

And Tom would be there, reassuring them that they had their plans and if they just kept to them, everything would be alright.

For a brief moment, Tom was struck by how much he would miss this odd sort of familiarity he'd created with these five wizards when he left Hogwarts in just a few weeks. Tom never felt entirely close to any of them, but there was a sort of fondness for the same conversations he'd have with them over and over again. He almost regretted that he hadn't been soaking up all of these memories over the past months.

Once they left Hogwarts, everything would change.

When they got back to the dorms, there was no more time for nips of firewhiskey, laughing around the fireplace in their room. They would all have to retreat to their individual beds to try to squeeze in a little more reading before falling into an exhausted sleep.

Tonight, though, Edmund couldn't hold out his curiosity any longer, and started pressing Tom for his plans. "So, where are you going to go after you get off the Hogwarts Express? Just stay in Hogsmeade until the interviews?" he questioned.

Professor Merrythought had finally announced her retirement earlier that month, so it became clear that Hogwarts was going to need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

And a Transfiguration Professor, Tom thought with an evil little smirk.

He hadn't told his friends about abandoning his plans to take over the position, or that he'd taken Abraxas's father up on his offer of patronage. Truthfully, he wasn't ready to answer all their questions or deal with Edmund's temper tantrum once he realized his family's "generosity" had been rejected.

Tom didn't fancy telling them that his direction had changed, most notably about muggleborns. It wasn't as if he wanted to befriend loads of them or treat them as equals, really, but he just didn't see the point in killing them all any more. And, he wasn't sure how the staunch purebloods he surrounded himself would take it.

Louis and Gus would follow the group and Evan could be easily convinced as his family was more centrist. Tom wasn't sure how Alfie would take it. His father had written the pureblood directory that established the sacred twenty-eight after all. But, if he was still able to experiment with his dark hobbies and sadistic magic, Tom thought he would fall in line like the rest.

Edmund certainly would be the biggest hurdle. He had the potential to sway the others. But, Tom hoped that he'd established himself as the leader of their cohort well enough to stave off any mutinies.

The uncertainty twisted his stomach into knots.

He also knew that he would have to tell his friends about Hermione eventually. Salazar, he was not looking forward to that conversation. Not only did he want to keep her all to himself, but he wouldn't stand for them disparaging her.

"Things have changed, Edmund. I've got a flat arranged for after school in London," Tom said, trying to brush off the conversation a little bit longer.

"London? But won't you be moving back to Hogwarts soon enough?" Edmund asked, a hint of sharpness in his voice.

Tom shook his head. "I no longer intend to become a Professor. Things have changed," Tom answered.

"Well, when were you going to tell us that?" he countered.

"As soon as the NEWTs were over," Tom responded coolly. "It's more important to focus on doing well on our exams rather than considering this path or that. None of it matters if you don't get the marks to do what you want."

"Of course, Tom," Evan said, breaking the tension between the two of them. "I'm glad to hear that you won't be cooped up here. I've always said I think you could do brilliantly in government."

"Thank you, Evan," Tom said with a nod. "I think my skills might be best used directly."

Once he had the approval of one of his friends, it seemed that the rest weren't too bothered. Except for Edmund, of course. "Well, I for one can't wait to hear all about your plans," he said with a frown."

"Right when we are done with exams," Tom said with a huge fake smile. "We can celebrate with some of that Malfoy champagne and talk all about the future."

Edmond's frown deepened. "Yes, the Malfoys always seem to have the best champagne, don't they?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. Edmund was catching on quickly, and it wouldn't do him any good if Lestrange continued with his line of questioning. Instead, he retreated to his bed and bid the other Slytherins goodnight.

He could push off this conversation another few weeks.

The next opportunity that Tom found to visit Hermione was during his assigned rounds. He barely took the time to look around the castle knowing that most of the students would be too absorbed in revisions of their own to bother getting into too much mischief.

His feet carried him all the way to the Dark Tower without having to think too much of the way. When he got to the top of the stairs, he opened the door, eager to talk to Hermione after a long time apart, hoping that she hadn't already gone to sleep for the evening.

He was pleased to find her spread out on the settee as usual. She barely looked up from the book she had her nose in. On top of her head sat the sapphire diadem, making her look like some sort of fairytale princess, with her long, wavy hair tousled around her shoulders.

Tom almost wanted to say something when she didn't have a greeting and a kiss for him, but he also knew that she was invested in her work. There would be times that he was so focused he'd forget to eat, so he knew better than to hold it against her.

He did greet her with a smile when he joined her on the settee, giving her leg an affectionate squeeze.

Immediate, Hermione scowled at him. "Hi Tom," she said tersely, before paging through the book a bit more.

His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "Hi Hermione," he answered, wondering what he could have possibly done that would have caused her ire. "Are you upset that I didn't come by sooner? Because I've been hard at work studying for my NEWTs."

Her head snapped up to look at him. "No, not entirely, though it would have been nice to know that you were going to be busier than usual," she responded. "I'm upset because I've been trapped in this bloody tower for over ten months now and I am no closer to getting out than I was the first day!" she explained, sounded breathless and desperate.

"That's not true," he countered, wanting her to recognize all the progress she'd made. All the progress he'd helped her make. "You can do wandless magic now and you know more about the wards that are keeping you in here."

"Oh what good is wandless magic if there isn't any way to break the blood wards?" she asked, her breath hitching in her throat. And then she started crying.

It took Tom rather by surprise to suddenly have Hermione's face pressed against his chest, huge sobs wracking her body. Her fingers found purchase in the fabric of his crisp white school shirt, wrinkling it.

Tom had never really made it a practice to comfort a witch before. He generally left that up to the female prefects, and now the Head Girl. And while he'd seen Hermione cry before, there was something about her anguish this time that had him wanting to make it all better. He lifted his hand and let it smooth down the back of her hair, until it was resting on her back.

"It's okay, Hermione," he said quietly, feeling his voice rumble against her cheek. "You are going to walk out of this tower soon."

She shook her head back and forth. "No I'm not," she said, petulant. "I'm never going to get out of this bloody tower. Dumbledore has never even suggested that he will let me go."

Tom frowned, but didn't stop holding the upset witch. Had she not figured out the secret yet? Had she not realized the remedy to her situation? "I promised you, Hermione," he told her. "Don't you trust me to get you out of here?"

She pulled back from him, a fresh round of tears in her eyes. "I believe that you are going to try," she said soundly absolutely crushed. "But we are running out of time, Tom. In just a few weeks you will be graduating from Hogwarts and never set foot in here again. And you are going to leave me behind in this blasted tower. It won't be long before you forget about me."

He wanted to laugh at her, but he knew that it would only make her more upset. How could she possibly think that he could ever forget about her? She was the first witch to challenge him, the first witch to hold him, the only person to nearly equal him in intelligence. She'd taken his virginity. She'd shared herself with him.

It was impossible for him to ever forget her, even if he lived a hundred lifetimes.

"I'm not going to leave you here," he repeated. "I could never ever leave you here." He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Couldn't she see how affected he was by here?

Hermione sniffled. "You are already so absorbed into your NEWTs, you hardly come to see me," she said. "It's not that I don't think the NEWTs are important - because of course they are - but it's just...you see how easy it would be to just forget me here."

Tom gave her an encouraging smile then. "Oh, sweet Hermione," he said with a little chuckle. "Even when I am up to my eyes in Charms and Potions work, I do not forget about you. If I were a different wizard I might skip NEWTs entirely if it meant spending more time with you," he explained.

Hermione looked absolutely horrified at the suggestion that he would do something like that. "I would never ask you to skip the NEWTs," she said, looking horrified. "It's just hard not to be bitter when I'm left alone in here time and time again, without anyone to talk to. I should be in my seventh year, too. I should be taking my NEWTs, too."

He could fully understand what Hermione was feeling. It was hard that she was having to miss out on such an important year of her life, for nothing else than Dumbledore's suspicions. But, he also couldn't stand the idea of her getting caught up in an endless loop of feeling sorry for herself.

"Allow yourself some time to be bitter, but be sure that you are directing it at the right person," Tom instructed her. "I am not the person who has locked you in here, so I don't deserve your ire."

"Of course, Tom," she agreed, looking a little forlorn at the thought. "And, you should believe that I am angry at Dumbledore."

Her face hardened, her jaw set. But then her lower lips began to quiver and she was crying again. "I hate him so much," she said fiercely. "And to think that I ever thought that I could trust him."

She sat there for a moment, lost in her own little world. Then she reached up and grabbed the Diadem off her head and threw it down on the ground. "This stupid thing must not work either because it isn't giving me any of the answers that I need," she added.

Tom wanted to scold her for having a little temper tantrum, but he knew then that she must be close to facing the reality of the matter. "Are you sure that it's just not giving you the answers you want?" he questioned, prodding her.

Hermione did not answer him. Instead, she lurched forward until she was pressed against him again. Wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, she buried her face against his chest, crying a little bit harder than she had before.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders again, before conjuring a blanket to cover her legs. Even if it took all night, he would sit with her as long as it took for her to calm down. Tom was not an understanding or empathetic wizard in general, but with Hermione he knew this was an extraordinary circumstance, and he would give her a little bit of latitude.

The fire was nearly reduced to embers when she stopped crying and Tom thought for a moment that she might have actually fallen asleep on him.

But then, her little voice caught his attention. "Tom?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he answered.

"What's it like...what's it like to kill someone?" she asked, her voice sounding even smaller than before.

Inside of him, his pride for this little witch in his arms grew. So, she'd finally come to face the facts, had she? She finally had to acknowledge that the only way she was getting out of this tower was to kill Dumbledore and drop his blood wards. He knew that she didn't relish the idea, but he knew she would be better for it. She needed to take control of her life back once and for all.

"I know you've done it before, if you'd made a horcrux," she added, shyly.

"I have," he agreed. He wasn't bragging, merely stating. "It's easier than you'd like to believe it is. The spell is simple and has no complicated movements. All you need to do is give yourself over to your id."

"You make it seem so trivial," she scoffed. "Like anyone could do it."

"Oh, I fully believe that anyone can do it," he agreed. "The simplicity of the spell and the wand movement suggests that it was one of the very first spells. It's a primal part of wizards - to either kill or be killed - and I believe that instinct remains in all of us."

"Such an academic," she said with a hint of a smile in her voice. "It's one thing to think that you might be able to do it...and it's another thing to actually try. What if I can't cast it?"

Tom hadn't really thought about that. He'd never once thought that he wasn't capable of taking his father's life, or his grandparents' lives. The thought of getting revenge on them for casting him aside so easily had filled him with a confidence that he rarely possessed.

He was sure that Hermione would feel the same way when she eventually had to face off with Dumbledore. That the desire to get out of her cage would push her forward to do whatever it took to get out of there.

"You won't fail, Hermione," he said, pressing his lips to her temple. "When the time is right, I know that you'll be able to accomplish anything you set your mind to."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Hermione answered, sounding forlorn. "Tell me about our flat. Tell me about your job."

"The flat is in London. Malfoy considers it small, but to me, it sounds massive. I've never had my own room before, not really," he said, thinking that it would be odd to be in the luxury of a family like the Malfoys for the first time in his life. He was certain he could get used to it. "Abraxas has assured me that his mother has hired the best interior designer to decorate it. I didn't know that was a job."

Hermione laughed low in her throat. "Well, at least it won't be empty when you get there," she teased. "I'm sure that you will make it your own."

"With your help of course," Tom added, giving her a gentle squeeze. He wasn't sure if Hermione was the sort of witch that cared about decor and the like, but he wanted her presence to be known, too.

"And what about your other friend, have you told him yet that you are not going to take him up on his offer?" she asked, her interest piqued. "Lestrange?"

The way that she said the name made it clear that she knew more than she was letting on. "Are you familiar with Edmund in your future?" he countered.

"Only that he will have two odious sons," Hermione told him. "And the elder is married to a horrible witch. She frightens me."

Tom filed that away for future use. He was sure that whoever the witch that Edmund's son married would not be frightening to Hermione by the time that they met again. Tom wasn't even sure that they would marry again. Perhaps him ignoring Edmund's offer of patronage would push him in an entirely different direction. It was unknown.

"But you won't get out of telling me," Hermione said, poking him in the abdomen. "What did Lestrange do?"

"I haven't told him exactly that I am accepting Malfoy's patronage instead yet," Tom responded. "But when I do, he will be okay with it."

"What if he's not?" Hermione pressed further. "He seems like a stubborn wizard."

"Edmund might be stubborn, but I am the one who gets what he wants," Tom said, not caring if it sounded boastful. It was true after all. "And if he doesn't fall in line, I'll handle him."

Hermione shivered in his arms, perhaps not expecting such a bold claim from him. She didn't argue with him, though, perhaps recognizing that it was an inevitability. He was glad that she was able to recognize the sort of wizard he was.

"As for my job," Tom continued, not wanting to leave the stale bitterness of the conversation about Edmund to linger between them. "I've been doing a bit of research on the Secretary that I will be working for."

"What is he like?" Hermione asked.

"He's a half-blood, but from a wealthy family," Tom described. "Sounds like he doesn't do much of anything, so it will be a good chance for me to make my mark on the Ministry. So long as he doesn't just take credit for the work I've done."

Hermione murmured in agreement, apparently having dealt with that before. "You won't let him," she said confidently. "I'm sure you will find underhanded ways of letting everyone know whose work it really is."

"Underhanded?" Tom responded with a smirk. "You know me far too well, Hermione. In any case, I don't think he will remain in his job for long. I've got to work my way up, and I won't do that by just being an Under Secretary forever."

"Very true," she agreed.

"And what will you do, Hermione?" he asked. "I'm sure I can arrange for you to sit your NEWTs after a bit of independent study."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It still seems too surreal to imagine walking out of this tower," she said, quietly. "But I suppose a period of independent study sounds nice. Maybe I'd pursue a mastery. In my own time, I was interested in becoming a Charms Mistress."

"I'm sure you'll be able to do just that," he promised her. "You'll do whatever you want when you get out of here."

Tom made one last short visit to see Hermione to explain that NEWT week was due to begin and he was sure he'd be too swamped in testing to possibly visit her. He was taking a record number of exams, and he could barely keep his schedule straight as it was. He couldn't risk getting caught up in his witch for an afternoon and missing his Arithmancy exam, even though he was certain it would be an enjoyable afternoon.

Hermione understood and gave him a lingering kiss before wishing him luck on his exams. He could still see the fear in her eyes when she bid him goodbye, a small part of her still concerned that he wouldn't actually come back to her despite his promises. It annoyed him, but he could also understand that she was under a lot of stress being left alone for so long.

He would just have to prove all of her fears wrong.

But first he had a ton of NEWTs to get through.

Several of his courses contained both a written and a practical examination, which meant double the preparation. He breezed through his Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts practicals the first day, receiving high praise from his Professors and the Examiners. Then in the afternoon he sat for the Care of Magical Creatures written exam and the Potions exam.

The following day, he started with the written portion of his Transfiguration exam, followed immediately by the practical. It was the only exam he was really concerned about, seeing as Professor Dumbledore was in the room and he wouldn't put it past the bitter wizard to try and get Tom's scores lowered in some way. Luckily, the Ministry Examiner seemed quite taken with him, so even Dumbledore's sour face couldn't bring down Tom's spirits.

In the afternoon, he had an extra long Arithmancy exam. Because Arithmancy didn't have a practical exam, it seemed that they had decided to double the written portion. By the end of it, his hand was aching but he was sure he'd gotten it correct.

The next day he had the written portions of Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, followed by the Potions practical and a written exam for Ancient Runes.

The following day, he could practically taste all of the Outstanding Grades he was sure to get. He had the Herbology written exam in the morning and the practical in the afternoon. Tom found it almost insulting that the only thing they were asked to do was to replant mandrakes, seeing as that was an assignment they had completed in second year. But, he couldn't complain too much.

By the end of the week, he could say that he was exhausted from the testing, despite being thoroughly well prepared. His quill hand ached from all of the writing he'd been forced to complete and his shoulders hurt from being hunched over all the time.

He wanted nothing more than to rush up to the Transfiguration corridor and celebrate for the evening with Hermione (perhaps in the bath even), but he knew that he could not neglect his friends at a time like this. Not only would it prompt too many questions, but he was sure that they were beginning to be a little resentful at being alone for so long.

So, he trudged down to the dungeons to spend the evening in their dorm together, even though there were nowhere he'd rather be than in the Dark Tower.

Evan had charmed some of the house elves into bringing their dinner into their dorm room, and Alfie had conjured a table for them all to sit at. They invited Abraxas and Neville, as well as Graeme Greengrass, who they would be initiating into the Knights of Walpurgis later that evening. The trio of fifth years had also survived their OWLs and were just as ready to drink as the older boys.

Abraxas, as expected, had brought enough champagne to go around, but they also indulged in Edmund's firewhiskey. Tom found Lestrange so terribly desperate, wanting to be needed by the rest of the Slytherins, but he would put up with him as long as he was useful.

Edmund did try to direct the conversation to what Tom was going to do after he left Hogwarts, still left in the dark about his plans. Tom was pleased that he had an excuse in the form of Graeme to put it off a little bit longer. He just told Edmund that would have to wait until they were all initiated.

Graeme was keen to go through the ritual this time, having dealt with all the hazing of his friends and the older boys on his own. It was clear, though, that he didn't want to be the only one of his friends left out, even if he wasn't particularly keen on blood purity. Tom was pleased to see that the fifth year didn't even shout when he received his brand, officially bringing him into their little social club.

Seeing the newly burnt skin, shiny and pink on the inside of Graeme's bicep gave Tom pause.

He was reminded of a conversation he'd had with Hermione earlier in the year, when she'd admitted to jinxing a contract to give the signer boils should they break the terms. He began to wonder if he could incorporate some sort of similar magic into the brands so that they had a little more weight to them.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. That would prevent any wizard who wore the brand from betraying him. Of course, he wouldn't jinx them with boils...that was too juvenile. The consequences would need to be more serious than a mere cosmetic misfortune. And the brand would need to be made in loyalty to him, not just to the Knights of Walpurgis. This would prevent someone like Edmund from even thinking about kicking up a fuss if he didn't like something Tom had decided.

It really seemed like a perfect solution.

He would have to speak to Hermione about it the next time he saw her.