Hydra was pulled away from some probably important—yet horrifically boring—conversation about . . . something, by a large hand on her elbow. Her heart kicked in her chest. Half of her hoped it was Tom, and the other half feared it was Tom.

She turned and smiled tensely at Theo.

Tom would have been infinitely better.

"May I have this dance?" he asked as the song changed.

Theo or Lord Rivers and his minions? She weighed the options for only a moment. They were the same rank so it's not like she'd be insulting anyone too badly.

"You may. If you'll excuse me," she said with a deep curtsy. She turned from the group and Theo led her to the dance floor, and the two seamlessly blended in with the other dancing couples. "Thank you," she murmured softly.

He grunted softly. "Of course," he said with a soft smile down to her. He pressed his hand into her shoulder blade, and she suppressed a shiver. "I do wish you had gotten another dress like I told you to," he commented after a moment of silent dancing.

She sucked her teeth. "If that's how you're going to be, I'm going to go speak to Lady Nightingale and Lord Yaxely. They have some interesting theories on Curse degradation that I'd like to have with them both."

Theo sighed. "No—I'm sorry. It's just—you've changed, Hydra."

"I grew up."

"I'm sure you're still in there somewhere," he said with a hopeful smile. He lifted a hand and stroked her cheek before he ducked his head to kiss her.

Hydra lifted her foot and landed the pointy heel of her shoe into the center of his shoe. She turned her back on him as he released her and crouched over. She marched off of the dance floor and looked for Vega.

She found her in a small group with Hermes, Blaise, Abraxas, and two others whom she didn't care to identify at the moment. She easily weaved her way through the crowd to her cousins, brother, and friend.

"—have to come." The atmosphere was awkward, and Hermes stood like he was ready to snap and attack someone any second.

"Theo just tried to kiss me after insulting me," she stated as she stood next to Hermes.

The group flinched. "Well," Blaise laughed. "That's . . . well . . . that's one way."

Abraxas plucked a glass of Fairy Water off of a passing tray and handed it to her. She took a sip. "I mean—I know he wants to get back together, but, seriously," she scoffed slightly. She turned her attention to the other two members of the group she had joined.

Historia and Tom.

Crap.

"Hydra!" the girl squealed. "Congratulations!" She tried to throw herself at Hydra, but Tom held her back.

"For what?"

Not killing you yet? That deserves some kind of award.

"I heard you got accepted into the ICWA. Oh, Tom, sweetie, in case you didn't know, the ICWA is the International Curse and Warding Association. They're the best Curse Breakers and Warders in the world."

"Cursers," Blaise cut in.

"Pardon?"

"They're the best Cursers in the world. They're more than just mere Curse Breakers. And Hydra here is the first Curser to be hired straight out of school in nearly two centuries."

"I'm not surprised," Historia slurred. She grabbed a glass of Elf Wine off of a tray and deposited her empty glass. "You stayed up hours on end working towards your Curse Mastery. Do you have it yet?"

Hydra licked her lips as she glanced at Tom. Awe and something that looked like some mutated form of realization colored his face. Something that almost looked like shame was hidden deep in his eyes.

"Yes," she answered. "I got it just before I started my seventh year."

She looked away from him and to her glass. She finished it as Hermes spoke. "Tom, you seem to know something about the ICWA. Or . . . am I wrong?"

"You're not wrong. I worked closely with the ICWA when I was a Magical Researcher with Gringotts—" Her eyebrows jumped up. "However, I also applied when I was in school but didn't get accepted due to not having high enough defense scores."

She frowned. "What were they?"

"Perfect," he scoffed. "I got an O+ on my NEWTs, but because I got an O on my OWLs I didn't qualify."

"Ah, yeah. That would do it." She drank her Water.

Vega laughed, slightly hysterical. "Hydra, sweetie, darling, light of my life . . . you nearly killed yourself trying to get accepted."

"And that's why I got accepted."

Tom laughed softly, and she met his gaze. It was soft and warm, and everything it shouldn't be when directed towards her.

"You start in October, correct?" he asked before he took a sip of what she thought was either whiskey or brandy.

Historia pouted. "You should start in December so—"

"I actually start July 27, now."

The only one who wasn't shocked was Vega. Hydra had gotten the letter while the two had been getting ready for the Ball and had both celebrated and cried.

"Wait, what?" Hermes demanded. "Since when?"

"As of this afternoon. Someone dropped out," she lied, "and they offered to let me start early. I accepted."

"Why?" Historia demanded, a sliver of the child she used to be coming out to greet the world. "You know you have to come to my wedding."

Hydra glanced at Tom before she spoke. "I accepted because there's nothing here for me in England at the moment." She looked away from his blank expression. "My family and friends understand and are ready to work around my schedule of being a Curser at the ICWA if they want to stay in my life."

She placed her empty glass on a nearby table. "If you'll excuse me."

She stepped away from the group, and a few steps later a large hand rested on her shoulder. "May I have this dance?" Abraxas asked softly.

"You may."

The two glided out onto the dance floor and began to waltz with the other couples. "I know Tom's your Soulmate," he said after a moment.

She bit her cheek. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Too bad, cousin, because I do want to talk about him." Abraxas tightened his grip and lifted her before she could leave. He continued speaking once she was on the ground. "I know he's hurt you. But that doesn't mean you have to lie and hurt him in return."

Their dance was fast, angry, and violent. A crowd was drawn to them as she continually tried to get away from him, but he successfully stopped her each time, their words punctuating each moment they were close.

"I didn't lie about anything, Abraxas," she snarled softly. "There is nothing here for me to turn down the opportunity I begged for."

He blinked but refused to be deterred. "Yes, there is." She raised her hand to slap him for him to release her, only to have him grab her hand and spin her and pin her back against his chest. "I know you hate Historia, so why not just give in? Why not let him woo you and be with you? Hurt her instead of hurting him and yourself."

She shook her head and met Tom's gaze. It was ablaze with fury, and he looked as if one wrong move on Abraxas' part would have the world set on fire.

She turned to face Abraxas. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because. If our positions were switched, I'd want my fiancé to either man up and end our relationship or stay faithful despite finding his Soulmate. Don't get me wrong, I would gladly kill Historia and hang her sins out for the world to see, but I won't hurt her in this way."

"Why not?"

The song ended, but the two stayed where they were. "Because I'd just be killing myself in the process. I'd do more damage to myself giving into Tom and then losing him when he's married, than she has ever done to me. So, I won't do it. I won't accept him while he's Stolen."

"I know you say that now, but you're not going to last. The Bond between you two is too strong."

A tear fell down her cheek. "Shut up, Abraxas."

"I only speak truth, Hydra."

A hand came to rest on her back as Abraxas released her. "Let's dance," Hermes spoke.

A fast-paced waltz began, and the two began to dance, both of them cracking jokes in attempts to forget the obvious gaze that followed them around the ballroom. The song changed, but they stayed dancing, and their jokes turned to sly comments about guests and gossip they had heard throughout the night.

After the third song, they left the dance floor and went to the refreshments where she downed a glass of fairy water and Hermes a glass of Firewhiskey.

Swing music came on, and they both wheezed for a moment. "Want to go again?" he asked with a large grin.

"Oh, yes."

The dance floor quickly cleared—as many of the members of High Society and their guests didn't know how to dance to the old muggle music. But, as the adults fled, Ravenclaws, Slytherins, and some Hufflepuffs, all who had either graduated within the last three years or would graduate in the next two filled the floor. The song really kicked into gear, and all of those still on the dance floor all started doing variants of the Charleston.

Hydra picked up the side train of her dress and held it in one hand while she held Hermes hand with the other.

For the first time since she had met Tom—sure, it had been less than a week, but it felt like three eons had passed since her own Ball—something tight in her chest finally relaxed, and she finally felt the way she was supposed to feel: free, excited to face her future and her new job as a Curser at the ICWA.

Hermes spun her away, and she clasped hands with Vega and danced with her for a few moments, the two of them both wheezing with laughter as Hermes and Blaise began to dance together, before the two returned to their partners and finished the dance out.

She claimed another glass of fairy water and ignored the voice in the back of her head that said getting drunk was not a very good idea.

Blaise grasped her elbow after her second glass and led her out to the dance floor with a wink and wicked grin. From that dance on, her partners went from someone she knew, to someone she didn't know, back to someone she knew. That pattern continued until Vega grasped her hands. Whispers broke out at the sight of the two waltzing in the center of the dance floor.

"I have very important news to tell you," she said conspiratorially.

"Oh? Do tell."

"Historia is passed out, piss drunk, in one of the private alcoves, and Tom hasn't stopped staring at you for the last 30 minutes."

Hydra laughed. "I was aware about the stare, but not Historia being drunk." She jokingly twirled Vega—the good thing about being the same height as her equally short cousin was being able to twirl her. "Besides, it's his fault that he must suffer. Now, darling cousin of mine, go enjoy the rest of your Ball. I'm going to excuse myself, I'm a bit too drunk to stay Heiress Black."

Vega laughed as the two approached the exit. "I can tell. Are you going to sleep in my room?"

"As usual," Hydra said through a yawn.

"Dance with us." Before either girl could respond to the demand, Abraxas grabbed Vega's hand and led her away while Tom waited for Hydra's answer.

"Heiress Black?" Tom questioned.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. "I was leaving—" She closed her eyes and grabbed his hand before he could retract it. "But, yes."

He smiled softly at her and led her back to the dance floor. Instead of the center of the room—like everyone else—he led her to an abandoned spot close to the exits. "Thank you," he murmured.

"You're welcome."

"You know, you drive me mad," he growled in her ear after a moment. Her knees grew weak. "Seeing you in this divine dress, dancing, smiling, laughing, all with other men—" He pressed his fingers into the Soulmark that graced her back. "To see your Mark, my Mark, be touched by those mangy mutts—" He took a deep breath. "I've almost lost my mind with jealousy."

She met his eyes. "Don't say such things, Tom. My heart—" She bit her lips and shook her head.

The song ended, and he groaned low in his throat. A slow song came on, but she didn't release him. "Hydra?"

"It is customary for an Heir and Heiress to dance an entire song together," she said softly. "If they start at the end of a song, they must dance the next song together."

"I'm not an Heir," he protested as he pulled her closer. He rested the side of his head against hers—she prayed no one watched them.

"Because you are engaged to an Heiress," she spoke, her voice cracking painfully around the words, "that makes you an Heir."

The two danced in silence for a moment. "I feel like you're lying to me about that rule. There were many men you only dance half songs with—many who were Heirs."

She bumped his chin with her temple, a silent chiding. "Shut up and be grateful I'm dancing with you."

He laughed and pulled her closer, the distance bordering on inappropriate given the two were just acquaintances to the outside world. "Trust me, darling," he murmured, his voice gravely, "I'd do anything to dance with you, to hold my Soulmate in my arms for just a moment."

"I'm not your Soulmate," she said. "I haven't seen or touched your Mark to Activate my side of the Bond yet, thus we are not Mates."

He smiled. "I can prove to you that I am your Soulmate."

She lifted a brow. "How?"

A cloaking spell fell around them. "You said you were leaving, yes?" She nodded. "Let me walk you to where you're going."

She narrowed her eyes, but eventually agreed at the desperation in his. Desperation didn't look good on him.

As long as she didn't touch his Mark, she would be fine.

Normally, to Activate a Soul Bond, the Mark had to be touched while performing magic or kissing, but because one side of the Bond had already been Activated—to the point that it affected her—if she touched it, the Bond on her side would start and then she'd really be screwed.

He placed his hand on her lower back and the two walked out of the large room. Strains of music faded as she guided him through the large manor, and it was when the halls were silent except for all their steps and breathing that he made his move.

He pressed her into the wall, one hand on her neck, the other on the bare skin of her thigh, and his lips coaxed hers in a sinful dance. She arched into him, returned his affections, and ran her fingers through his hair before she pushed him away.

"Tom—we can't—" He put his hands on her waist and pinned her against the wall once more.

"Why not?" his voice was velvet in her ears as his lips began to pepper kisses up and down her neck. "We're Soulmates."

She pushed at him, and he complied, moving away enough so she could easily look him in the eyes. One hand rested on her shoulder though, and one against the side of her neck. His thumb ran gently against the hollow of her throat. "Tom, we just talked about this. I haven't seen or touched your Mark yet to verify if I'm really your Soulmate." It was rare, but it could happen where he was her Soulmate, but she wasn't his. "Besides, the reason we can't do this—" She gestured between the two of them, mainly at where his hands still touched her. "—is because you have Historia. No—Tom Riddle you listen to me!" she snarled when he moved closer to her once more. He stepped back, a pleased smile on his face with his eyebrows raised. "You seduced me while you were engaged. You're still engaged. You can't have me because I can't trust that you won't do that again. You can't have me because you can't have us both," her voice broke, "you can't have me," she repeated.

He let out a quiet sound that sounded like an injured beast as he forced her to meet his gaze. "I swear to you, Hydra—I swear on our Soulbond—that kissing you was the first time I had done anything like that—doing this with you—you—you make me do things I'd never do normally."

Magic tingled in the air.

"Like what?" she asked.

"Well, for one kiss a woman I'm not in a relationship with," he muttered as he pressed a kiss to her neck. "Dream of a woman." He kissed higher up on her neck. "Have hopes for a better future," he whispered between kisses. He kissed her lightly on the lips. "Begin to feel a semblance of what pure happiness could be."

"Tom—" she choked out. "Don't—"

"I'm going to kiss you now," he whispered. "And I'm not going to stop until you believe me."

All propriety was out the window as he pressed his lips to hers. They were just Tom and Hydra. No Titles to be found anywhere as his tongue swept through every corner of her being and left no spot untouched. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. He began to lift her, so the tips of her shoes barely brushed the ground.

It was the way his hand gently cupped the right side of her face, as if she were a fragile glass figurine, that made her open up just slightly—that made her forget her promise to Abraxas. The wall around her heart cracked just enough that his magic, and the essence of his entire being began to trickle into her soul.

Laughter at the far end of the hallway forced the two to separate.

He groaned low in his throat before he pressed his forehead to hers. "At least you began to understand," he muttered to himself.

The laughter grew closer. Hydra wiggled out of his hold and grabbed his hand. "Come on."

She led him through the manor and to the family wing where she pushed him into Vega's sitting room and study. On one side of the room, it had a large oak desk with two towering bookshelves on either side of it stuffed full of books, and on the other side of the room was a small sitting area comprised of two love seats and four armchairs, all around a coffee table.

There was a door between the two areas, acting almost like a barrier between the two, that would either open up to Vega's bedroom or her bathroom depending on which way you turned the knob.

"Hydra?" Tom asked from behind her. "Where are we?"

She told him. "No one should disturb us—not until the Ball is over. But—" she started frantically when his hands grabbed her hips and his lips began to kiss up and down her neck, "—we're not going to do anything more than talk."

He groaned and hugged her close. "Can I at least touch you?"

Never let me go, please, I beg you . . . hold on for eternity.

"I guess. But you have to show me your Soulmark first."

"I can do that." He pulled away and fabric began to rustle. She turned around and flushed as she saw his tailcoat gently laid on the back of the nearest chair.

She turned back around. "Earlier," she started, her voice hoarse, "you said you worked as a Magical Researcher . . . why did you quit?"

"Lord Nott made me," he said bitterly.

"You're joking, right?"

"I wish."

"Are you living with the Notts then?"

"No. I live alone." His hands pressed against her shoulders as his chest pressed against her back. Pain similar to when she had her Concealment Charm removed arced through her body. Feelings of home, and then being ripped to shreds—

No! She wasn't supposed to touch it.

She pulled away from him and turned around. His chest was bare, and on his left pec was his Soulmark. Similar to her own Soulmark, it was two reptilian creatures with their tails intertwined, only these two were wrapped around a phoenix feather—did he have the twin to her own wand? Like her own, one of the creatures was a king cobra, its hood opened wide. It faced the other creature—her—with its mouth opened slightly with its tongue stuck out.

The other creature was a hydra with seven heads. Three were angry, three just stared at the cobra, but one head was curled under the cobra's head, eyes closed and content.

Her hand lifted of its own accord and was about to touch it when she realized what she was doing. "Please, Hydra," he begged softly. She looked into his eyes and saw the desperation that didn't belong there. "Please."

She wanted to fight, wanted to bring up the same argument that she had armored herself with, but she couldn't. Not with him staring at her like that. Her head fell onto his chest and she began to cry as she pressed the palm of her right hand against the Soulmark—besides, she had already touched it.

Her hand began to sting—the ache painful instead of pleasant like her own Mark whenever he touched it. He shuttered as he pulled her closer, his hands on her Mark. "Why couldn't you have waited just a bit longer?" she asked, her voice thick. "Why couldn't you have just waited another year or two when we could have started working together?"

Stolen Soulmate.

"I tried," he murmured into her hair. "Believe me, I tried."

"What do you mean?"

He lifted her into his arms and sat on one of the loveseats. "I met Lord Nott through my job at Gringotts. He had brought in a trunk of artifacts he had found in his attic—a common occurrence—and had been assigned to me. It took a few days because of how much stuff he had, but by the time we were done, he had gotten it into his head that Historia and I would be perfect for one another.

"I kept telling him 'thanks, but no thanks', but he wouldn't hear of it. It was about a year of constant pestering before I agreed to meet her, hoping that maybe she might be my Soulmate." He scoffed quietly before he kissed her head and ran his hand up and down her back again. "When she didn't have a Soulmark, I told Lord Nott 'no' once again. Once again, the pestering started up again."

"What made you finally agree?"

"Lord Nott brought in a family heirloom to be appraised, and when it got lost—which no one knew how, he demanded that I be fired. It became something much bigger than it should have been, and I went to him to ask him what I could do to get him to stop."

"Why?" she cut in.

"Getting fired by the Goblins is a surefire way to not get hired by anyone else, human or otherwise," he answered bitterly. He ran his hand over his face, and she saw what was either a tattoo or some kind of marking on his left forearm before it was out of sight once more. "He said if I agreed to marry Historia, he'd stop trying to get me fired. He made me quit four months later, but at least I wasn't fired."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Me too." He pressed his face into the top of her head and breathed deeply.

"Did you . . . was it your dream job?"

"I think so. I've always loved learning. Getting to travel to new places to do that, to discover things that wizarding kind hadn't previously known about . . . that was just the icing on the cake."

She traced his Soulmark. "I'm sorry he made you give that up."

"Would Lord Black have made me?" he asked after a moment, his voice tense.

"Tom—"

"Please, Hydra. I need to know how badly I screwed up by not waiting."

The door opened behind them, but neither moved. "Hydra?" Hermes asked softly, his voice tense. "Everything alright?"

"No, Tom," she said softly. She climbed off his lap and joined her brother at the door. "My father wouldn't have made you quit."

He nodded his head before he stood and quickly dressed. "Should have listened to Lagnar," he whispered under his breath. Once he was dressed, he turned to face her. "May I kiss you goodnight?"

She bit her tongue as she closed her eyes. "No," Hermes answered for her. "You've caused her enough pain. Just leave."

"Hydra?"

She grabbed Tom's hand and pressed a kiss to his fingers. "Goodnight, Tom." He stroked her cheek, the tips of his fingers rubbing against the sensitive skin behind her ear.

"Goodnight, Hydra." He walked past them, stole a quick kiss to her cheek, and left.

She broke down into Hermes' arms. He picked her up and carried her into Vega's room where he helped her change into her nightclothes—the two were so close that nothing phased them (besides, she didn't seem to have any sense of modesty after the trials for the ICWA or wearing the Training Uniform).

Once dressed, the two climbed into Vega's bed where she fully broke down. Painful sobs that left her gasping for air shook her entire being. Hermes just held her close and ran his hand down her hair and back. He didn't say anything, because any verbal comfort he could offer would either be a threat to Tom's wellbeing or a pure lie, and both would hurt her more than help her.

Later, they were joined by Vega and Blaise, and Vega took Hermes spot as the other two settled in large cots brought in by House Elves.

Her cries filled the otherwise silent room until she joined the others in sleep when the light of dawn began to filter into the room.