Minister Riddle Will See You Now

Chapter 12: Withdraws, and Overdrafts

That night after Tom left, Hermione had a nightmare. She didn't have to all the time but often enough following that incident that gave her the scar. She knew Ginny and Luna were home and only a short distance away but while breathing heavily and slightly sweaty from her dream, Hermione snuck into Ginny's room.

She crawled in behind Ginny and tried to simply lay there and not shake. She had no intention of waking Ginny but she really didn't want to be alone.

Ginny woke up anyway.

"H'mione?"

"Go back to sleep, Gin," Hermione whispered.

"Of course Ginny ignored her. She rolled over to face Hermione in the dark.

"What are you doing here? Where's Tom?" Ginny whispered.

"He went home hours ago," she confessed. "I had a nightmare."

"Oh," Ginny sighed, reaching over to hug Hermione.

"Ginny?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you...naked?"

"Yeah," she said, not in the least bit embarrassed.

"So am I. What is going on?"

"Harry?!"

Hermione jumped up out of the bed. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know you had Harry in here!"

Ginny laughed, pulling the sheets up over her boyfriend's waist even though it was probably too dark for Hermione to see anything.

Appalled at having climbed into bed with a naked Harry and Ginny, Hermione stood and stumbled out of their room, ignoring the whispered protests from Ginny that she could throw some clothes on.

Back in her room, Hermione balled herself up and cried with the odd feeling of being alone. She swiped at the tears angrily. Only a few days with Tom and she already wanted him with her all night. She was pathetic.

HG/TR

Wednesday morning, Hermione woke up late. She'd been up late after her nightmare and it had taken a while to fall back asleep.

The flat seemed quiet as Hermione snuck to the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth.

In her room, she made her bed and dressed. She was very tired of being in her flat even though she'd only graduated days ago so after snatching a bite to eat, Hermione set off in the building for the staircase that led to the roof.

The day was cloudy but for some reason the air felt good on her skin. She debated it for a moment before pulling out her wand and transfiguring a chair from a stray twig that had blown onto the room from a nearby tree.

She sat down and made herself a list of what she knew was bothering her and possible solutions. Then, when that was off her chest, she listed things she needed to accomplish.

My magic is wonky due to sex with Tom- Will I always react like this with sexual partners? How long until my body regulates the balance? How do I keep others from noticing?

Tom says he doesn't do girlfriends but he's asked me to be his- Is this all for show so he can get the public and his family off his back or is there something there?

I'm falling for Tom far too fast- When he realizes this will he break up with me?

How much control over my body and my life is Tom going to insist on?- At what point do I stop being me when he's pulling my strings?

Why do I like it when he tells me what to do?- I don't actually like it when he tells me what to do so why do I listen?

My flatmates are going to clue in soon and I've bound to a vow of silence- Maybe Tom will tell them something himself so I'm not in danger of violating my vow.

I need to get a job so I can afford my flat and living expenses- I'll follow up on possibilities today.

If I am able to get that scholarship, I'll need to set up a desk in my room for studying- Maybe I can get Dad to buy me a desk for a graduation gift?

Pausing with her quill against her lips, Hermione rearranged the list she'd just written, prioritising the more eminent tasks at the top. It seemed like today might be another day of sending messages and responding to letters.

It was a fight to not use her magic, she realized. She started to summon her research notebook to her on the roof through the open window a few floors below and then she remembered not to. She started to transfigure a blanket for herself but she knew she should not. Having to return to her flat by foot made walking back up the stairs to the roof seem pointless so she simply sat in her room and worked on her new theory for a nerve regeneration potion. Meeting with Healer Wyler had her brain firing again on possibilities and it only took an hour to jot down her base ingredients for the new potion and a few muggle ingredients that she thought would react well. She crafted a thank you letter to Healer Wyler for his discretion and for the intelligent conversation last night. She slipped in a reference to her interest in possibly working with potions and healing in the future and her application to Oxford and Saint Mungo's. Now she had to await a reply.

By lunch her skin was itching and she was irritable at not seeing any messages from Tom. She called her father and found that he was back and waiting for her to visit. She arranged dinner with him for that evening.

While preparing for dinner with her father, she wrote Tom a small message to let him know what she was doing.

Tom,

I've spoken to my father today and will be having dinner with him this evening. I plan to be done before 9 pm. I'll be traveling as a muggle since my father has no floo connection.

Hermione

She eyed her seafoam green parchment keenly all afternoon but by the time she had to leave, Tom had not replied anything other than that he would see her soon.

Scratching her upper chest, Hermione gathered her satchel (with a few personal items and a change of clothing) and made to leave the flat.

"Hermione?"

"Hey, Luna," Hermione greeted her flatmate who was just coming in the front door as Hermione was transfiguring her cloak into a muggle coat.

"Off for a big date?"

She couldn't keep the disappointment off her face. "No, not really. I'm having dinner with Dad."

Luna hung up her own cloak on the hooks by the door and stepped around Hermione. "Well, I hope you have a good time. Draco says 'hello' by the way."

Jerking her head around, Hermione smiled. "You've been with Draco"

Serene smiles were Luna's thing. "Oh, well, he wanted to meet for ice cream so that we have a precedent set before the gala."

Unsure what Luna was meaning, "Do you mean that you and Draco are only putting on a show to save him some face? I had thought there might be something between you."

She watched Luna set out a tea cup and fill the tea pot with water. "Well, there might be but the point of all this was to help Draco from being disgraced at the gala so that's our goal. If something comes of it, then that would be great."

Hermione pondered those words as she walked down the street. Weren't she and Tom doing the same thing? Their arrangement started out as a result of Tom only wanting sex with her and finding there might be something else between them to discover on the way?

Her father's house hadn't changed any since the last time she'd visited. She let herself in and smiled at seeing her father's one hit wonder meal at the table waiting.

"Dad?"

"Hey! There is my Blue Jean Baby!"

Even without an audience to her father's endearment, she blushed. She'd been little when she heard Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" and had loved the song enough to sing it while swinging in the backyard. Her father had remarked that she was his blue jean baby because she never wore dresses. The endearment had stuck, emphasized by Hermione's love of blue jeans as she grew.

"Daddy!"

"It's good to see you. Let me have a look at what a graduated witch looks like," her father remarked.

She laughed and spun around quickly for him.

Dinner was relaxing and cathartic. Hermione asked about his conference and the practice while her dad asked her about her NEWTs and about her new flat.

"Well, after the shock of the Order of Merlin wore off, I enjoyed it. Wouldn't you?"

"I wouldn't know, but I can assume Hogwarts to be the best of all fantasies," Troy Granger grinned.

Hermione chewed a bite thoughtfully as she watched her father wipe his mouth and lean back in his chair.

"How have you been, Dad? I worry about you," she told him softly.

"Me?" her father smiled as though amused at the thought of his daughter being the one to worry about him. "I'm fine. The other day I saw Mrs. Chantry, you know? She was asking about you."

Mrs. Chantry was her sweet old teacher from primary. When Hermione had been bullied for being different or for being a teacher's pet, Mrs. Chantry had been the one bright spot at school for her. Even now, 10 years later, Mrs. Chantry still asked Troy about Hermione when she visited for a teeth cleaning.

"Well, how is she?" Hermione inquired as she stood up to start bussing dishes to the kitchen.

"She's not yet senile. Remembers you perfectly. She asked, and I quote, 'How is Miss Hermione? Is she running the world yet?'"

They laughed about it for a minute.

"Hard to tell anyone what I'm really up to," Hermione gave her dad an apologetic look.

She always felt guilty for being a witch when she saw how it put her parents in tough spots with their friends and coworkers.

"You would be right that I can hardly admit that my daughter found a cure for scars. It's hard to contain my pride but that's my burden to bear," Troy announced as he approached the fridge. From it he withdrew a cheesecake with a light raspberry drizzle on the top.

"Dad!" Hermione exclaimed, looking over to see what her father had. "Is that real?"

"You think we can celebrate your record breaking scores, Order of Merlin, and graduation with anything less?"

Growing up, Hermione very rarely had anything sugary to eat. At other children's birthday parties, her mother would always decline cake on Hermione's behalf. Instead, her mother would bring a treat that had zero sugar and hand it to Hermione so that she wasn't completely missing out. The teasing for being odd and different was not so much different from the bullying she got for being a swot or odd.

Over cheesecake, Hermione and Troy covered just about all the subjects they hadn't had time to talk about since they'd last seen each other. They talked about the process for discovering her new potion, her new research into nerve regeneration and the integration of muggle ingredients, her flatmates Luna and Ginny and a brief overview their lives, and how Hermione's job hunt was going.

By the time the hour had grown late, Hermione was full of cheesecake and feeling a bit sad at leaving her dad again.

Troy helped her into her coat but stood between her and the door, a clear indication that he wanted to talk to her about something before he would allow her to leave Thoughts stormed through her mind over what could be bothering her father.

The practise? Mum? Dad's health?

"Thanks for coming to see your old man, Hermione. One topic I noticed you steered clear of is the boyfriend subject."

Studying her father's body language, Hermione sighed. Her father was tense but staring her in the eye.

There goes my chance at brushing this off.

"Dad… I just haven't been the type of girl to go on frivolous dates, you know?"

The tension in the air was palpable as Hermione shifted a bit under her father's gaze, trying to determine what else to say. "I...did go on a date recently but I'm really not sure what to say about it, Dad."

Troy's brown eyes read her own before he opened the door and walked out to the porch with her.

"A date? How recently?" his tone was carefully measure and Hermione had never been able to tell the difference between her father's probing-for-answers tone and his you're-in-trouble tone.

"A few days ago," she admitted, chewing her lip and scratching her forearm uncomfortably.

"Where did he take you?"

Silence.

"Hermione?"

She sighed. "He took me to a friend of his family's house. They were celebrating graduation and he took me as a date after he got roped into it."

Silence.

"This boy took you to a family function? For a first date?"

Even though her father's tone was still measured, it was steely. She looked up at him and wilted a bit under his penetrating stare.

"I suppose. I didn't really know he was friends with them when he twisted my arm into going," she told him, her chest felt hot and she longed to rub at it where it tingled like tiny bubbles underneath her skin.

Suddenly, Troy dropped onto the bench on the porch and swept a hand wide over the space near him. "Might as well sit, Baby. You've got a lot more to explain to your Dad. Don't you think you ought to just confess to what's going on rather than force me to play 20 questions before bedtime?"

Gulping, Hermione felt flushed. She rubbed her chest quickly and put her hand down. "Oh, well, I um… met someone. Sort of. He, ah, expressed interest in me but I wasn't really sure about being able to have a relationship with him. His friend happened upon us while we were discussing and mistakenly invited me to the graduation party for her son and he agreed that we should both attend. We did and I'm not really sure now…"

Troy ran a hand through his hair and leaned his elbows on his knees. "So, this boy agreed to bring you because…?"

Embarrassed, Hermione thought perhaps a half truth was best. "Well, he's not known for being a girlfriend type of person-"

She saw the look on her dad's face when he quickly interpreted her words correctly. "It's just he's a bit like me. He doesn't date and focuses on his career so his family and friends got excited thinking he might finally have a girlfriend."

Troy's face wasn't any less rigid so she bathered on trying to dig herself out. "He said he wanted to try having a girlfriend but it's really confusing."

The wind picked up for a second and Hermione scratched her arm again as she fidgeted. A warm arm rested over her shoulders. She leaned into her father's side, thankful for the reprieve.

"Let me make sure I'm understanding this correctly: you are dating a boy who is old enough to have a career that he puts in front of dating but he took you to meet friends of the family and agreed to try dating you?"

She nodded, not arguing that the Malfoys were his family.

"And," he continued, "you aren't sure about it. Are you not sure about him or dating in general?"

SCatching herself scratching her neck, Hermione tucked her hands underneath her legs. "I think I'm sure about dating him, I just worry that he's been pushed into this by Narcissa mistakenly assuming I was already his girlfriend."

"Hmm," Troy said. "And, where does this drug addiction behavior come into play?"

"What?" Hermione snapped her head to look at him.

"You're acting like a tweaker going through withdrawals. I've noticed it all night, Hermione."

She looked around the front yard before pulling her wand out just enough to cast a cleaning spell on the porch. The itching decreased and Hermione stowed her wand.

"Sorry, I hadn't realized I'd let it get that bad. I'm having some trouble with my magic. I saw a healer yesterday," she assured her dad who looked worried rather than angry now. "I've just been through a lot of stress and my body is having trouble regulating how much magic to give me access to. I'm supposed to be refraining from using any difficult spells for a week or so. I haven't done a spell all day, really. I needed to discharge some of the excess."

Troy let out an annoyed groan. "And you didn't think to tell me any of this right away? Hermione…I feel like I'm losing you bit by bit."

The arm around her tugged her into a hug. She clutched at her dad and breathed in his cologne, so comforting and familiar.

"I'm not trying to cut you out of my life, Dad. I swear!" her voice was muffled by Troy's shirt.

"I know, Baby, this is just a part of having your daughter grow up. It's nothing to do with magic or you or me. It happens to everyone, I just wasn't prepared for it."

They sat together for a bit longer before Hermione mumbled that she needed to go since she was having to travel the muggle way.

"That's silly," Troy stated. "I'll drive you home."

The car ride was nice. Troy let Hermione choose the music and they laughed and sang the ride to her new flat. When they arrived, Troy eyed the neighborhood warily.

"I've got lots of wards and protection spells up, Dad. Don't worry," she reassured her father.

"Well….okay. Say, Hermione, I'd like to meet this boy sometime. If you are dating him, it's only fair I meet him if he's taken you to meet his friends of the family. Right?"

Chewing her lip, she nodded.

"Call me again in a few days, then. If you don't call, I'll drive over to check on you," he threatened.

After kissing her father's cheek and getting out of his car, she made her way into her flat, trying to ignore the tingly feeling under her skin. She'd need to do some other spell soon. It was probably not wise to hold off on using her magic this long. Perhaps tomorrow she should do a simple spell when she woke up, another after lunch and one before bed?

Even feeling like a junkie, Hermione thought that it was better than feeling like she was too weak to do anything after performing magic. She'd hated feeling vulnerable like that.

She waved to Ginny and Luna who were watching something on the telly and greeted them in a "I don't feel like stopping to talk" tone. They'd gotten to learn her tones over the years. When Hermione was cranky, they knew to leave her alone.

Shutting her door behind her and tossing her coat on her bed, Hermione was startled by the sight of Tom sitting in a new desk chair in front of a desk that wasn't there yesterday.

"Well hello," he greeted her sardonically.

"Tom," she gasped, her breath leaving her in surprise at having Tom in her room waiting for her. "How are you here? I was just going to message you when I got back."

He gave an exaggerated nod to the clock. It was 9:27, past the nine o'clock she'd written that she would be back by.

"Sorry, she muttered. "I was with my dad and he had...questions. I might have miscalculated muggle travel as well."

Saying nothing, Tom tilted his head casually but it seemed that he was just waiting for Hermione to confess more. She resolved not to say anything. She rubbed her arm and sat down suddenly nervous at Tom's behavior.

"Do you recall the conversation we had last night?"

"Yes," she answered, petulantly.

"Watch your tone," Tom warned.

Merlin! What's up his arse?

"Then you should remember the healer telling you to cast a few simple spells throughout the day rather than abstaining? You've been in the room less than five minutes and you're scratching at your skin!"

Hermione reeled back at Tom's tone. She was getting irritated. Who was he to sit in her bedroom unannounced, waiting to make her feel like a naughty child for having dinner with her father?

"I did a scourify not but 30 minutes ago, for your information," Hermione snipped, making a motion to remove her shoes so she could tuck her legs up under her on her bed.

"Don't," Tom warned. "We're going to my place."

"Oh, we are, are we?"

"Yes," Tom hissed. "You've gone 24 hours without sexual stimulation and your body is thrumming with too much magic. You're likely to set something else on fire and that would be better contained in my home than this hovel."

She bristled at his reference to her flat being a hovel.

"Furthermore, didn't I tell you to up the security around here? How am I able to apparate into your bedroom and sit here for an hour with neither of your flatmates being aware of my presence?"

There was no reason that she could think of for Tom to be able to do that. She gaped at him.

"If you aren't going to take your safety into consideration, I'll be forced to do it for you," he stated, standing up. "You cannot stay in an unsecure flat with roommates who don't take care of you in a dangerous neighborhood, Hermione."

Fuming, she stood up. "I have wards up all over this place. Just because the almighty Minister of Magic flaunted the law and broke into my bedroom does not mean all sundry can. Second of all, my flatmates can't take care of me when they don't properly know what the fuck is going on with me due to your gag order."

She scratched at her neck before realizing she was doing it and crossed her arms in front of her.

"You don't get to barge into my life, tell me how to live, and then lecture me when I don't do it all the way you want. Do you understand how awkward it was trying to explain to my father that I have a fake boyfriend who wants me for sex and has my body responding to it like a drug addict? With a vow of silence in effect, I just had to try to tell my father that I've got a boyfriend who isn't truly my boyfriend?"

He stepped up to her, so close she could feel his body heat. His hands gripped her wrists and tugged them to her side. "Stop scratching," he demanded. His tone was firm but he sounded less angry now.

She closed her eyes and breathed in to help calm down a bit.

"We're going to say goodbye to your roommates. We're going to go to the floo and you're coming with me to my home. There we can continue this conversation because it's more private and logically, it's a better location for all that needs to occur for the benefit of your health tonight. Do you agree?"

She wanted to say no out of spite; to say here and prove that she still had the right to make decisions for herself. But, she knew he was right so she gave a tight jerk of the head to indicate that she agreed.

Her satchel was thrown over Tom's shoulder and her coat was folded over his arm. He steered her out of her room pausing out of the door to cast some spells and wards over it for security in her absence.

In the living room, Ginny and Luna had looked over to see Hermione and Tom standing there and they were surprised to see Tom.

Tom's face displayed his mood perfectly and neither of her roommates commented.

"Weasley, aren't you dating an auror in training? You should get him to put better protection up on this flat. I apparated straight in an hour ago and neither of you noticed. Tell Potter to take it as a personal challenge," Tom sneered, guiding Hermione to the floo.

"See you tomorrow," Hermione called over her shoulder. Tom's grip on her tightened and she felt her stomach sink. Was he planning to keep her captive all day tomorrow? She had dress shopping with Narcissa tomorrow. He couldn't.

After stumbling out of the floo, she turned on him.

"What the hell was that?"

"THAT was me making sure your idiot flatmates realize the seriousness of security. Or, would you prefer something awful happen to you all in order for you to learn how to protect your home? If you're old enough to have your own place, you must learn to defend it!"

He was right, of course, but the way he was attacking the issue seemed like a slight against her friends and she didn't want to admit that he was right so she said nothing.

"For the love of Helga, stop scratching!"

She hadn't realized that she was but her hand was at her neck just under her jaw, scratching at the hot and flushed skin.

Tom unbuttoned his robes and tossed them aside. "We have to fix this now or we'll never be able to talk properly."

His hands tugged her to him and he was pulling off her clothing. She started to protest the fact that they were both angry and that sex was a bad idea but his mouth covered hers in a bruising kiss. Fuck, it was hot! His tongue was in her mouth and his hands were sliding underneath her knickers against her bare arse.

One hand grasped her knee, coaxing her to hook it around his hip. It was a bit awkward to unlace her shoes while Tom was holding her so tightly to him and kissing her but she managed one before trading legs and unlacing the other. Hermione was still angry but the way Tom was kissing her and gripping her was hard to resist. Why was it so hot?

Tom kissed her hard, using a hand to force her head to follow him as he leaned down to push her clothing down far enough for her to step out of. He yanked her shirt over her head before guiding her down to the floor.

"Floo," Hermione gasped against his mouth.

Tom waved a hand at the floo and she assumed he'd locked it before his lips were on her neck.

"I hope you're ready for me because you feel feverish," Tom muttered, reaching down and undoing the fly on his pants.

Unable to resist, Hermione looked down the length of her body to watch Tom pull his cock out of his trousers. His length sprung out and she barely got to look before Tom was gathering her wrists in his hands and pulling them over her head. He transferred them to one hand and attacked her neck with his mouth, forcing her head to angle up.

He sucked at the spot beneath her ears as he impaled her in one hard and swift thrust.

She gasped at the intrusion but the delicious feeling of being stretched by his hot erection was too good.

Ratcheting a leg over his hip and arching her breasts against him despite his hold on her wrists, Hermione couldn't help but moan. The itching on her skin was less intense already and Tom's stubble was rasping her in a way that she felt it in her groin.

Tom's thrusts were hard, fast, and powerful. He was fucking her in a way he'd not done before. It was so good, she decided, especially when his pelvic bone jammed into her apex.

With his hand not holding her wrists, Tom reached down between them and pushed a thumb over her clitoris.

"That's it, baby. Just feel it. I want you to focus on me and when I make you come, I want you to focus on pushing all the excess into the floo," he hissed into her ear.

She didn't understand what he meant exactly but she was so close to her orgasm that she didn't feel like she could talk at the moment.

As if he wasn't already fucking her hard on the floor, Tom increased his thrusts and it was more than she could take. She heard her gasp echoing in the room as though it came from someone else. She pushed out the bubbles from under her skin as her body pulsed and thrummed.

This orgasm was powerful. Distantly, she heard the sound of something shattering but she couldn't tell nor could she care what it was as she felt Tom gripping her thigh and wrists so tightly it was painful as he pistoned back into her one more time and emptied himself deeply inside her. Her body pulsed and thrummed renewed and the shattering sound in the background became more distant to her.

Clutching Tom to her, her back bowed up off the floor as she absorbed the rest of her pleasure. Tom's grip on her wrists and thigh loosened a bit.

"Fuck," was all he said as he panted over her.

Still unable to speak, she nodded, feeling hot and flushed all over even though Tom was the one doing the work.

He stood and tucked himself back into his pants but didn't fasten the fly. Instead, he bent over to lift her up from the floor. She didn't even muster up the energy to protest the treatment.

She heard something crunching under Tom's feet and allowed her head to loll off his shoulder to look around. There was glass on the floor beneath the window that was closest to the spot on the floor where they had shagged. A careful look around told her there was more broken glass somewhere but she couldn't see it because Tom was striding quickly past it all to his bathroom.

He set her down by the sink and she jumped at how cold it was on her bare arse. She pushed her hair away from her face and realized her hand was shaking. Tom turned the taps on and scattered some potions and bath oils into the water.

Turning, he stepped up into the space between her legs. "I want you to lay in the bath and relax. If you feel itchy, or like passing out, call for Hop and he will get me. Do. Not. Ignore. This. Order."

Swallowing, Hermione watched as Tom checked the water before returning to pick her up and slide her into the water. He rested a forearm on the wall nearby and rested his head on it as he watched her laying back in the water.

"How do you feel right now?"

She took stock of her body. She was probably going to have some bruising from Tom's grip but she wasn't going to mention it. She was hot but she wasn't itchy and her head didn't feel light.

"Hot," she admitted.

A flick of his wand and the tap added some cooler water to the tub before shutting back off.

"I'll have Hop deliver a snack that I want you to eat. I'll be back to check on you soon."

He left the bathroom before she could really protest.

Hop left a small snack of cheese and crackers along with a glass of water that she managed to eat even though she'd had a good dinner not long ago with her father. Her eyes threatened to close so often as she languished in the warm bath that Hermione finally washed up and stood up. She didn't feel dizzy so she dried herself off, used Tom's mouthwash and wandered into his bedroom.

She knew Tom had brought her satchel but it wasn't in the bedroom so she snagged a pair of his boxer briefs from a drawer and then located a quidditch jersey from a different drawer. I was large on her but it was soft and smelled like him. The Slytherin crest on the front looked much more intricately designed up close. The name "RIDDLE" and "7" on her back made her smile. Ginny sometimes wore Harry's jerseys and he was also number seven but his jersey was red and gold, of course.

Her hand was still a little shaky so she found a pair of Tom's socks- dress socks, as it were- and slipped them on.

She walked down the hall to deja vu as she overheard voices. Hermione walked slowly, not intending to eavesdrop but wanting to hear as much as possible before she walked into the room.

"-getting out of hand, don't you think?"

That sounded like Severus Snape.

"It's not like this is a very common issue, Snape!" Tom snapped.

"I should hope not. You know, if you don't get this problem under control soon, people are going to figure out there is something odd between you?" Severus was suggesting slyly with his deep voice.

A pause.

"Fuck, I know. It's not fair to her, though. I don't really know what this is yet. Wyler only told us that she's not regulating magic adequately in response to sex. How is it that we're still exchanging magic? She blew the fucking windows out tonight, Severus!"

Never had she heard Tom sound desperate before but if she had to describe his tone, desperate would have been it.

"Might I suggest that you put in more time to unraveling this mystery rather than screwing the Head Girl every chance you get?" Snape said waspishly.

"Fuck off," Tom retorted. "You're just jealous."

"That's neither here nor there," Severus replied, making Hermione's eyes go wide. "If you don't find a way to regulate her magic, she's going to start showing signs to those around her and other people will start poking their nose in your business."

There was the sound of a glass being set down on a surface.

"I'm aware of that. I don't care for word to get out that I'm seeing a witch. She doesn't want word to get out because she's afraid of the impact it will have on her future and she seems to be unsure about me in general." Tom sounded tense and irritated.

"There's a witch alive who doesn't want to be linked to Tom Riddle? Well, I've always known she was smart but I never gave her enough credit it seems."

"Are you here to help me or just make me feel like shit?"

"Little of both," Snape teased back.

There was the sound of a tinkle of glass and a muttered spell that sounded like "reparo" was uttered.

Hermione walked into the room and stopped when Severus' eyes instantly looked up to see her enter the room. She flushed only now remembering that she was wearing Tom's underwear while walking into a room with her former potions master.

She paused and cast her eyes low. Should she continue in? They were certainly not going to speak about her any longer. It was clear by how they were sitting with drinks in the hand that she was interrupting. She turned to leave when Tom called out.

"Come here, Hermione."

She paused, not turning around. Her bravery was flickering as she contemplated the wisdom of getting carried away listening to their discussion rather than focusing on the fact that she was wearing Tom's jersey and no bra underneath it.

She hesitated long enough that Tom stood up and approached her. He pressed a kiss to her temple and guided her to the couch.

Tom resumed his seat and pulled Hermione into his lap. She struggled but a hand clamped firmly over her thighs and one around her back locked her into place. She sat stiffly, very much aware that her former professor, who might be attracted to her, was in the room with her. She was aware of his eyes on her as her... Lover-and his best friend- sat her on his lap while she wore said lover's underwear. She was very uncomfortable and knew that it was obvious to them both.

She shifted a bit to let her legs drop to a more comfortable position and Tom twirled a curl around his finger, lazily. He gave off an air of nonchalance about having a half naked witch draped across his lap in front of his friend that Hermione was starting to wonder where the line in the sand was between Severus and Tom.

"How are you feeling?" Tom murmured to her as he pushed some of her hair over her shoulder so he could see her better.

She glanced over at Severus nervously before she looked back to Tom.

"Don't worry about Severus. We have very few secrets between us and he's here to help."

She chewed her lip. "Okay."

A snort. "The shaking of your extremities says otherwise," Snape stated.

"It's not bad," Hermione dismissed.

Her hands were held between Tom's now as he studied them. "When did they start shaking?"

"When I got dressed," she mumbled, facing away from Severus so that only Tom could hear.

"That would have been half an hour after sex?"

She shrugged, blushing fiercly about having Tom announce to Severus that they'd had sex just before he'd arrived.

He sighed. Fingers under her chin urged her to face him and Severus rather than gazing over his shoulder behind the couch.

"I understand that this situation is still uncomfortable to you since Severus was recently your professor but I need you to relax and answer questions for us. Severus and I are used to sharing so you shouldn't feel like you'll be judged or thought poorly of for anything we talk about."

The horror of the implications Tom had just reference must have appeared on her face as Severus chuckled.

"You're going to freak her out, Tom," her former professor warned. "She's a Gryffindor and recently was a virgin. She's probably not at a place to hear about the sex lives of people she idolizes."

With a glare, she stared Severus in the eye and snapped, "Idolize? Fuck you, Snape."

Both men laughed loudly now and she flushed and squirmed to stand up and leave. They were laughing at her inexperience as though she had done something wrong and she didn't like it. Snape had no right to say that she looked up to him with reverence after the way he was tough on her in school. He treated her more harshly than any other student in the school. As though she would idolize that behavior.

She nearly managed to escape before Tom tugged her back into his lap. This time she landed in an even less desirable position. She was sitting in Tom's lap with her back to his chest, she arse on his crotch, and her legs on either side of his. She squirmed some more causing him to wrap his arms around her ribs and press her back into him.

Fuming, she stopped struggling. She knew enough of snakes to know that she needed to go still to avoid being squeezed to death.

"Sorry, pet. We're not laughing at you." Tom told her in a smooth voice that belied his amusement.

"Well, you're not laughing with me!" Hermione hissed.

"Gryffindors are just fun to rile up. Make one comment that bends the truth and they get defensive," Severus commented as though he were speaking to a room full of people who were listening to his every word with baited breath.

"Glad my shortcomings are a source of amusement for you both," she said petulantly.

"Been a while since I had a Gryffindor, Tom. Are they always this feisty?"

She bristled at the insinuation.

"I'm still evaluating, Severus. She's only been with me a few days."

She folded her arms across her chest, the body language was a little stilted by the fact that Tom's arms were underneath hers, and refused to comment any further.

"In all seriousness," Severus changed the subject, "Wyler seems content to assume that Hermione's body is struggling to regulate magic now but I'm not. You shouldn't be still exchanging power or magic to the point that her body is reacting to you like a drug addict. I will have to research it more but her reactions are troublesome. You need to keep an eye on her."

Her internal rage notched up one more inch at having them talk about her as though she was not present and as if she were a troublesome problem that the two of them had to deal with.

Deliberating, Tom said, "I think I'll take off tomorrow to watch her. She's supposed to shop with Narcissa and to renege on that would have Cissy sniffing around to determine the problem."

"Perhaps, you can experiment and find some rhythm and rhyme to her symptoms and their causes," Severus suggested.

The air around them blew as though a storm was coming. Hermione glared at them both, her chest heaving with her fury at being treated like a child. Tom looked around the room as the wind picked up. Hermione used that opportunity to jerk herself out of his grasp.

The wind died down as soon she was free but she regretted it. Her knees buckled under her as she saw black spots swimming in front of her.

"Fuck, Tom! Grab her!"

Hands underneath her knees and under her shoulders tugged her into Tom's lap once more and she didn't fight back. She was scared now, rather than angry.

"Tom...what's wrong with me?" she begged, a tear escaping her eye.

She looked up at him from where he held her in a reclined position against the couch armrest and across in his lap. His face was lined with worry.

"I don't know yet," he said simply.

She closed her eyes, as her body started trembling.

A blanket was tucked around her and her head was pulled to snuggle against Tom's chest.

Even though she was still unhappy with how Severus and Tom were speaking about her only moments ago, she breathed in Tom's scent and tried to relax. She was now properly frightened of performing magic. If she didn't do magic, her skin itched with the excess magic under her skin. If she did do magic, she trembled and shook from exertion.

Her body didn't feel like her own.

T