AND WE'RE BACK! Here's a little insight into Tom's mind from last chapter for everyone who wanted it! Also, everyone please just assume Viktor is talking in a heavily accented voice. It was too much to try and figure out how to write it in like that hahahahah
Enjoy!
September 1st, 2018
Tom sits at the head table as the students crowd into the Great Hall for the first time this year. His attention is focused on the door, waiting for one student in particular to breach through the threshold.
"Don't you think you're being a little obvious?" Severus asks from his side.
He ignores him and continues to stare.
Hermione traveled most of the summer with her parents, so he hasn't seen her since school let out last year. That's the longest they've gone without physically being near each other since they met four years ago.
He hadn't prepared for how much the separation would take a toll on his health. He had trouble sleeping over the duration of the summer holiday, and he's lost weight and strength as a result of a lack of appetite. His eyes look hollow and his skin has grown sallow. Narcissa has been fretting over him for weeks, to his utter dismay and annoyance.
Every day he had to hold himself back from going to her. He was overwhelmed with the need to know that she was alright and to protect her, but he knew that he couldn't just show up with no explanation.
He held off on telling her that she was his mate when she was young because he didn't want to frighten her. His original plan was to take her aside and tell her as soon as he saw her, but when he found out she was muggleborn, that plan dissolved. Everything she thought she knew was already flipped upside down, and he knew that telling her that she was destined to be with someone would be too much. It's now been four years, and he hasn't found an opportune moment to bring it up. So, he just…
…hasn't.
Despite this, they've still grown closer as she's gotten older. They spend every night together in his office during the school year, talking about anything and everything. This is always his favorite part of the day and he looks forward to this time every night. He craves any time he gets to spend with her. He cares more for her than he cares about anything. Even himself.
Although Hermione doesn't know that she's his mate, it didn't take long for the news to spread among the staff. One look from him, though, and they all knew to keep the information quiet, but that didn't stop them from gossiping with each other. He's gotten better at ignoring it and not wanting to murder them when they do.
Sometimes.
Like anyone, he has his bad days.
His back straightens as his body is flooded with what he now knows is a sharp twinge of her magic. It seeks out his own and molds around his body, already helping him relax and fueling his own power.
He spots her as soon as she steps through the doors. She's turning her head forward, a glare melting off her face. A quick glance behind her shows him a laughing Draco, easily explaining the look on her face.
He watches as she hurries into the room, uncharacteristically pushing others out of her way as she makes her way closer to the front of the room. Closer to him.
Finally, she looks up and finds him. His heart races as her face brightens into a wide smile and she lifts her arm to wave her hand wildly above her head. He smiles and sends a more modest wave back. He sees a thoughtful look pass over her face as she looks him over before she's yanked to the side and she turns her eyes away from him.
His fists clench at someone manhandling his mate. His eyes flash to the culprit: Neville Longbottom. He tenses, ready to go to her when Severus speaks.
"If you could turn your eyes away from her for just a moment, you would see that someone was about to run into her."
He whips his head sharply to the side to face him. "What?"
"Mr. Jones was walking up behind her and neither of them were paying attention. He was about to run into her, but Mr. Longbottom pulled her out of the way so she wouldn't get knocked into. You should be thanking him instead of preparing yourself to tear him to pieces." He smirks.
His muscles relax and he leans back into his seat once the words sink in. "Hmm, I suppose that's fine then."
"Yes, I suppose it would be," Severus chuckles.
He ignores him as the last of the students settle into their seats and Minerva leads the new batch of first years into the room to be sorted.
The sorting commences as usual, Tom and Severus clapping along after every student is sorted into their new house. Severus turns to Tom after about half the students have been sorted. "How much do you think this competition is going to blow up in Dumbledore's face?"
Tom chuckles. "Hopefully, as much as I'm thinking it's going to. Nothing says good education more than putting children in reckless danger for the amusement of others."
The sorting quickly finishes, and Dumbledore stands to announce the Triwizard Tournament. Tom distractedly watches as the students turn from excitement at the announcement, to amazement when the visitors enter, and then end with anger when told of the age restriction. His distraction clearly being Hermione. He smirks as he easily reads her annoyance on her open face, already knowing she wouldn't approve of such a dangerous event.
Everyone settles to eat as the night's emotions settle down. Midway through the meal, Tom glances up at Hermione and notices what looks like an argument between her and Ron Weasley. He sets his cutlery down and turns his full focus on the two, narrowing his eyes as he sees Weasley's face turn red in anger.
Suddenly, he sees Weasley say something to Hermione that causes shock to cover the faces of everyone surrounding them and Hermione to jump up and storm out of the Great Hall. He clenches his jaw as he instantly pushes away from the table and marches out of the room after her.
She's already gone when he makes it to the Entrance Hall, but in his rage, his Veela side is already instinctually following the call of her magic. He climbs the stairs, quickly realizing that he's heading towards his office. His insides purr in pleasure that she would come to him first.
He throws the door open and finds Hermione sitting next to his desk. The door slams against the wall and closes with a bang behind him as he strides over to her.
"To—"
"What did he say to you?" he demands as he finally stops in front of her.
"I—he—who—what?" she stammers.
He leans in close, hands on the armrests on either side of her. His heart thrums as her scent invades his senses. "That bumbling idiot, Weasley. What did he say that upset you?"
"Nothing. It's not important."
Irritation spikes in him as she tries to evade his question. He leans in closer, so her attention is only focused on him. "What. Did. He. Say."
Hesitantly, she answers, "It's stupid. We were arguing about the tournament and he made some rude comments. They just made me angry. It's really not a big deal."
"What kind of comments?"
She sighs. "Just that I'm a know-it-all and I should stick to my books and I couldn't possibly understand this situation. That I'm always in the library and here and that I should—" she stops abruptly. His eyes narrow in suspicion.
"That you should what, Hermione?" His eyes dart between hers, demanding that she answer.
Her face grows visibly red and she turns her gaze over his shoulder. "That I should go kiss your arse like I always do and get out of their hair."
He inhales sharply through his nose and pushes himself up, his body tense. He spins away from her before she can see his reaction—his body physically changing as his rage towards Weasley grows. He breathes deeply for a full minute before he feels calm enough to face her again. He turns back to her. "Weasley is an imbecile. Don't take anything he says to heart," he says, calmly.
"I don't," she huffs and crosses her arms. He looks down at the movement and his eyes automatically narrow in on her chest. He's failed to notice until now how much her body has matured over the summer. He suddenly realizes that she'll be turning 16 in just two weeks—a year away from being recognized as an adult in their world.
She jerks her arms back to her sides, the movement causing him to snap out of his trance and to raise his eyes back to hers. He finds her avoiding his own. "He just made me mad. I don't seriously care what he thinks."
"Good," he says. "You're better than him." She opens her mouth and, knowing she's about to disagree, he quickly says, "That's enough of that." He walks around her to sit at his desk. "Tell me about your summer."
She smiles as she starts to tell him about her time with her parents, Ron and his annoying comments forgotten.
Tom's sitting at his desk grading his second years' essays when Hermione enters his office the day of her 16th birthday. As she sits in the chair in front of him, he pulls a box out of the drawer and lays it on the desk in front of her.
"Happy birthday, Hermione," he says.
"Thank you, Tom." She reaches for the box and opens it, revealing a new charm for her bracelet. Seeing her questioning look and having anticipated her possible confusion over the meaning of the snake charm, he explains that it's a reminder of her friends. And him, too. He jokes that it also symbolizes that she should've been sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. He smirks at her sarcastic reply.
He returns to his grading and she pulls out her homework. They settle into a familiar, comfortable routine. Distantly, he notices a spike of something unidentifiable in the air. He absentmindedly continues grading as he focuses his attention on figuring out what it is. He inhales deeply, scenting something feminine—vanilla and some kind of flower, he thinks. Whatever it is, he can feel his body responding to it—his heartrate increases and he feels a tightening in his groin.
Distracted, he stops grading and looks up at Hermione. His eyes widen he finds her staring at him—or more like ogling. Deep, wet breaths escape her lips, her quill resting lightly against them. He gapes at her as she continues her leering, her breaths steadily turning into quick gasps. The scent he noticed a moment ago spikes and he suddenly realizes what it is. His mate is aroused. And it's because of him.
Before he can do something he'll regret, like jumping over his desk and crashing his lips to hers, he clears his throat. She jumps at the sound, her complexion flushing red as she finds him watching her.
He opens his mouth, but before he can speak, she jumps out of her chair, picks up her homework and her bag, and rushes towards the door.
"I have to go!" she squeaks. "I have to meet—uh—um—Pansy. Yeah, Pansy. To do—um—hair st-stuff. Yeah. Um, thank you for the gift! Bye!" She rushes out of the room before he can stop her. His body is screaming at him to follow after her, to claim what's his, but he controls his urges.
Unable to put his focus back onto his grading, he leaves the room and retires to his quarters for bed. His dreams filled with soft curves under his hands and full lips on his own.
The rest of the semester flies by for Hermione. She finds her time fully taken up by her studies, time with friends, the excitement around her regarding the tournament, and, most importantly, trying to ignore her growing attraction to Tom. The latter she's tried to achieve mostly by the use of avoidance. The evening after what she's taken to call The Incident, she skipped out on studying with Tom for the first time since she started. When he caught her alone in the hallway the next day and confronted her over why she wasn't there, she made up an excuse about promising Neville that she would study with him. She could tell that he didn't quite believe her, but he didn't question her further on it. She could tell he was worried about her and she felt bad about lying, but she was just too confused with her feelings right now.
After that first missed night, she realized that it was easier to ignore her confusing thoughts and feelings about him when she wasn't near him. Hence her decision to move her evening study time out of his office and to the library. She knows he won't believe any excuse as to why, so she's taken to avoiding him any time he's tried to get her alone, keeping at least one of her friends with her at all times.
It's pretty clear to her that he does not like this plan, if his constant attempts to catch her by herself are anything to go by. She's been lucky to get away from him so far, but she knows her luck will run out eventually. Until then, she's going to continue with her plan. Or, at least until her feelings completely go away. Hopefully.
She flips the page of the book in front of her, scanning the pages for examples to support her theory in the Charms essay she's writing. A scuffle in the aisle next to her causes her to glance in that direction. At first, she's nervous that it's Tom, but she calms when she can't feel his magic near her. She turns back to her homework, but a moment later a shadow falls over the parchment in front of her. She looks up and her eyes widen as she takes in Viktor Krum. She's noticed him lurking around the library, usually with a gaggle of giggling fangirls behind him to her utter annoyance, but he's never come up to her before. To her surprise and happiness, no girls are to be found.
"Hello," she says.
"Hello. Hermione Granger, yes?" he asks. She inwardly cringes as his accent slightly butchers her name.
"Yes, Hermione."
"I am Viktor Krum."
"I know," she laughs. "It's nice to officially meet you, Viktor." She holds her hand out for him to shake.
Surprising her, he instead grabs onto it and brings it to his lips to plant a gentle kiss on the top. "It is a pleasure, Hermione." She blushes as he releases her hand and she pulls it back to place in her lap. He gestures towards the chair across from her. "May I join you?"
"Yes, yes, of course."
"You are in Gryffindor, yes?" he points at her tie and she nods. "You must be very brave then."
"That's what they say, but I don't know about all of that," she laughs. "Congratulations on winning the first task. Brilliant idea to use the Conjunctivitis curse."
"Thank you, Hermione," he smiles.
Viktor continues to ask her questions about herself. She's surprised to find that he doesn't mind the fact that she's muggleborn, as she's aware that most pureblood wizards aren't as forgiving. She learns that he's not egotistical like she originally thought. He's actually very humble and sweet. She's enjoying their conversation more than she thought she would.
"Oh!" she startles as her wand starts to vibrate, informing her it's time to head down to dinner. "It's gotten late." She closes up her books and they both stand to leave.
"May I escort you to dinner?"
Her eyes widen in surprise. "Um, s-sure," she stutters out.
He holds out his elbow and she hesitantly grabs onto it with her free hand. He leads her downstairs to the Great Hall, jumping back into their conversation on their way.
Walking through the entrance, he turns to face her and grabs her hand, pulling it back up to land another kiss on it. "Have a good night, Hermione. I hope to speak to you later."
"Abso—" she gasps as a sharp flare of magic rips through her, feeling like it's crowding around her body. She turns to the front of the room to see Tom glaring at where her hand is still being held by Viktor's. She rips her hand away and distractedly continues, "Absolutely, yes. Talk to you later, Viktor." Avoiding Tom's heated gaze, she rushes over to the Gryffindor table and sits down next to Neville.
"Why is Professor Riddle glaring at you?" she jumps at Neville's question, gaze automatically darting to Tom's and quickly looking away when she meets his angry stare.
"I, uh, I don't know. I'm not sure. Oh, roasted potatoes! My favorite!" She loads her plate and starts to eat, hoping he drops the subject.
"Hermione!" she groans as she hears Ron shout her name. "What were you doing with Viktor Krum? What were you talking about?"
She rolls her eyes before she looks up to answer him. "Nothing, Ron. We were talking in the library and he politely escorted me down to dinner. It's no big deal."
His eyes widen and he sputters out, "N-no big-no big deal?! Hermione! That's Viktor Krum! Bulgarian Seeker! It is a very big de—"
"Drop it, Ronald," she snaps with a glare and turns back to her meal.
"I-I—"
"Let it go, Ron" She hears Harry say to him.
"But it's Viktor Krum," he whispers back.
"Enough."
Ron pouts, but drops it for now.
She makes sure to leave for the common room with Neville, even when he gets up to leave before she's done eating. She knows that if she's alone, Tom will make sure to find her. Wanting to avoid that particular conversation for as long as possible, she sacrifices finishing her meal for the evening. She lets out a sigh of relief when she makes it safely back to the common room without being accosted, but her nerves are only slightly calmed. She knows she can't avoid him forever.
The next week, she's sitting in the Slytherin common room with Draco, Blaise, Theo, Pansy, and Daphne, studying for their upcoming final exams before Christmas break. They only had two more days of classes before the holiday officially starts, but this year is slightly different. The Yule Ball is a traditional dance held during the Triwizard Tournament on Christmas. As such, all students fourth year and up were given the choice to stay at the school until the day after Christmas if they wanted to attend. Many of them chose to do so, Hermione and her group of friends included.
Hermione's original plan was to attend alone, seeing as how all of her friends already had dates and she couldn't just attend with one of them. However, that changed when Viktor asked if she would go with him. He's met her in the library every day the last week, and they've gotten to know each other more. Hermione happily agreed to go with him.
She hasn't told any of her friends yet, and she's not quite sure why. And although she hasn't talked to him lately anyway, she especially hasn't told Tom.
"I need a break," Theo proclaims as he slams his book shut, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"I agree," Daphne says. "We've been at this for hours."
Pansy scoots forward and turns to her and Daphne. "Are we still set to go to Hogsmeade on Saturday to pick out our dresses for the ball?"
"Yes. Nine o'clock in the Entrance Hall," Hermione answers.
"I'm glad you're still going even though you don't have a date, Hermione. It wouldn't be fun without you," Draco tells her, patting her knee.
She looks away and reaches up to scratch the back of her head. "Uhh about that…" Better now than never, she supposes. "I actually do have a date."
"WHAT?!" She winces as five different shouts ring in her ears.
"Yes, uh, someone actually asked me the other day. And I agreed." She sheepishly shrugs her shoulders.
"Who asked you?" Blaise asks.
She pauses, chewing her bottom lip as anxiety floods her bloodstream.
"C'mon, Hermione! Tell us! I can't believe you've kept this a secret," Pansy whines.
"It's um…" She closes her eyes. "Viktor Krum," she says quietly. After ten seconds of silence, she opens her eyes to gauge their reactions.
"VIKTOR KRUM?" Theo is the first to react, snapping everyone else out of their shock.
"Hermione!" Daphne squeals, grabbing onto her shoulders and shaking her. "I can't believe you bagged Viktor Krum and didn't tell us!"
"Oh, he's soooo handsome," Pansy gushes with a giggle. "Way to go, Hermione."
She looks towards Draco as he opens his mouth to speak for the first time since she revealed her secret. "When did this happen?" She narrows her eyes at the slight tone of disbelief in his voice.
"We started talking a week ago. He asked the other day and I said yes," she explains.
"Does Tom know?" he asks.
Angry at the insinuation she can hear in the question, she glares at him and snaps, "Not that it's any of his business, but no, he doesn't."
Draco's expression turns serious. "Hermione," he starts.
She stands, throwing her bag over her shoulder and picking up her books. "That's enough. Tom's not my father. He doesn't need to know everything I do." She turns her nose up at his dubious look. "Theo's right, I think that's enough studying for the night. I'll see you girls tomorrow morning. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Hermione," the others murmur as she walks away, Draco continuing to give her a disapproving look as she exits the room and stalks back to her own dorm.
Hermione straightens up from her position crouched over to put on her heels. She can't believe she let Pansy and Daphne talk her into heels at all, let alone strappy black ones with a silver snake that wrapped around her ankle. Her whole outfit is very Slytherin-esque now that she thinks about it. Her dress is long with a satin emerald green fabric. The sleeves reach her wrists, and the neckline plunges extremely lower than she's comfortable with. Fabric wraps around the waist, pulling it in tight before it flares out to the ground. A long slit travels up to her left thigh—another thing she's highly uncomfortable with.
"Please tell me again why I let you two talk me into wearing this?" she asks her mischievous friends.
"Because you look hot, Hermione!" Daphne emphasizes as she swipes on some lipstick.
Pansy nods. "Green really is your color. And this dress is showing off all your best features. Viktor will love it." She winks.
"It's just so not… me, I guess," she shrugs.
"Hermione, you're smoking hot," Pansy declares. "I know you don't like to show it off, but it'll do you some good to let loose and have fun for once!"
Hermione sighs, "You're right, I suppose. I guess one night won't kill me."
"That's the spirit!"
"Okay! I'm ready!" Daphne announces, dramatically spinning around and holding out her arms. Daphne chose a dress that matched her personality perfectly. A slinky gold number that had more glitter than a six-year-old girl's birthday party. Pansy, on the other hand, chose a simple black dress that hugged her curves. Both of them looked beautiful, of course.
Hermione checks herself in the mirror one more time before they leave Pansy's and Daphne's dorm room. Pansy smoothed out her hair into sleek, long curls and Daphne did her makeup in as natural a look that Hermione could convince her to do. She has to admit, she does look pretty good. She chuckles quietly. She never expected to think that about herself.
The girls make their way into the Slytherin common room. The boys are already there waiting with their dates, along with Pansy's date, Terence Higgs. Draco's taking Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw, Blaise asked Tracey Davis last week, and Theo and Daphne are going together. The two have recently started seeing each other, to the surprise of the whole group.
Theo's the first to notice their entrance. "Ooohhh ladies, you all look gorgeous!" He reaches out for Daphne, pulling her close to him and twirling her around as she giggles.
"I think we may be the hottest group at the ball," Blaise says, flashing a smoldering grin and winking at Tracey.
Terence strides up to Pansy, silently telling her she looks beautiful.
"You look great, Hermione," Draco tells her with a soft smile. She sends him one back. Although she's still annoyed about their argument the other day, she can never stay mad at him for long.
"Where's your date, Hermione? Are you going alone?" Tracey asks her, head tilted to the side in confusion.
"I have a date. I just asked him to meet me upstairs," she answers.
Before she can ask who, Theo announces that they best head up before they're late.
They leave the dungeons, chatting about who they know is going with who and how likely it is that someone will spike the punch. As her friends laugh and joke, Hermione tries to prepare herself for the evening. She wraps her arms around herself, not knowing if the sudden chills are from the cold dungeon draft, or her nerves. She didn't realize how nervous she was, but now her stomach is flipping with anxiety. She's never actually been on a date before, and she's worried that she'll do something wrong, or embarrass herself.
She tells herself that that's the only reason.
Hermione's still deep in her thoughts when they walk up the stairs into the Entrance Hall. Distractedly, she scans the room, looking for Viktor in the large crowd. As her eyes make a second pass over the room, she's jolted from her mind as they land on Tom. Her breath catches and she freezes as she sees him looking right at her. But she doesn't meet his eyes. Instead, she finds him staring at her body, his gaze intense as he travels down to her pointed heels and back up again.
She lets out a shaky breath as she watches him watch her. He hasn't realized that she's noticed him yet, so she's free to take him in. His suit is all black and tailored to perfectly fit his body, highlighting his broad shoulders and flat stomach—back to its usual perfection, compared to beginning of the year. Expensive-looking suede dress robes drape over his frame. She bites her lip as she hungrily runs her eyes over him again and again. Making her way back up to his face, she gasps as her eyes lock on his, staring into her own.
The room around them fades and they only see each other. He moves to stride towards her, but abruptly stops, glaring murderously at something behind her. Furrowing her brow, she turns just as she hears someone over her shoulder say her name.
"Hermione," Viktor says. "You look lovely." He grabs her hand, laying a gentle kiss on the top.
She turns her head back to Tom to find his back facing her as he storms into the Great Hall. Mouth gaping, she watches him until he disappears into the crowd.
"Hermione?"
She whips her head back around to face Viktor, finding a questioning look on his face. She shakes her head to clear it, focusing on what's in front of her and forgetting Tom. Or trying to, at least.
"Sorry, Viktor! Thank you. You look very dashing," she says quickly. And it's true, she realizes as she glances down at his dress robes. He's wearing a red jacket with a fur cape thrown over one shoulder, showcasing the style of his homeland.
She jumps as McGonagall appears at their side. "There you two are! Hurry now, it's tradition for the champions and their dates to open the ball with the first dance." Her attention turns to behind them. "Mr. Diggory! Come along!" She leaves them, rushing off to Cedric and his date, Cho Chang.
Viktor gestures to the Great Hall, holding out his elbow for her. "Shall we?"
She nods and takes his arm as they make their way into the Great Hall.
As they walk through the doors, she looks around the room in amazement. If she didn't know any better, she would think that she was just dropped straight into the middle of a winter wonderland. The walls are white as snow, icicles hang from the ceiling, and three large Christmas trees loom magnificently at the far end of the room.
So engrossed in the sights before her, Hermione failed to notice the whispers that started as soon as they walked through the doors. She didn't miss them completely, however, spotting the pointing and starring as she finally looks at the students. She blushes and ducks her head, hating the attention and finding herself wishing suddenly that she would've just went alone as she originally planned.
"Do not hide," Viktor whispers to her. "You shine brighter than all of these people. Do not let their opinions and remarks alter your own."
She glances up at him, blinking rapidly at the adoring look in his eyes. She nods and says back lowly, "Thank you, Viktor."
He smiles warmly and turns forward, leading her into the center of the room where they meet the two other champions and their dates. Viktor pulls her around in front of him, positioning her for the opening dance. After a beat, the band plucks the first chord. They spring into the dance, the steps coming easy after weeks of dance lessons.
Hermione smiles and laughs as Viktor twirls her around the room, relaxing more and more with each passing second. After a minute, Dumbledore escorts McGonagall onto the floor, others following in their lead to join the dance. She allows herself a moment to search the room for Tom. She finds him leaning against a wall, arms crossed and body language closed off.
He's glaring at them.
"Who is that man?" Viktor asks. She looks up at him to see him staring in Tom's direction.
"No one," she replies quickly. "One of my professors. He's a family friend."
Viktor just hums in response.
Hermione throws one last glance back at Tom. Her stomach turns uneasily and she feels uncomfortable in Viktor's grasp. Her skin crawls everywhere it meets his own. She quickly turns back to Viktor, her good mood deflating. She turns the feeling over in her head for a moment before she suddenly recognizes it as guilt. She feels guilty that she's dancing with another man and not Tom. Irritation brews at this revelation. She has no reason to feel guilty. She's allowed to dance with whomever she wants. She shoves the feeling away into a box and slams down the lid, determined to ignore it and to have a good time.
Dance after dance passes and her good mood slowly returns. Viktor is funny and charming and sweet, and he knows exactly what to say to make her feel like the most special girl in the room. She breathes heavily as she exhaustedly moves through the last steps of a waltz, her body overheated and mouth dry. They finish the dance and she declines the next, opting to head over to the drink table to clench her thirst and cool down.
On the way, Viktor is stopped by one of his friends. Hermione motions for him to talk and she continues on to get a drink. She steps into line behind two Beauxbatons girls. She hears them talking French and giggling quietly to each other. There's just one more person in front of them, grabbing their drink from the house elf serving at the table.
She scans the room for her friends. Finding them across the room, sitting at one of the many tables set up in a corner, she decides to go over to them after she gets a drink. She's been so busy dancing with Viktor that she hasn't talked to them since the ball started.
She keeps looking around, spotting Neville on the dance floor with Ginny Weasley, both appearing as if they're having the time of their lives. She smiles wide, overjoyed that he's having fun after he had admitted to her last month that he was nervous for tonight.
"Not exactly who I pegged as your type." She startles at the words. She doesn't turn, already knowing who it is.
"Tom," she says. "How's your night?"
He ignores her question. "Viktor Krum, Hermione? I'm shocked." She shivers at the feeling of his breath on the back of her neck. "Can he even string together two words in a sentence?"
Temper flaring, she whips around. "For your information," she says sharply, "Viktor is at the top of his class. He's a lovely conversationalist and we have a lot in common."
He rolls his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."
She fumes. "How dare—"
"You look beautiful," he interrupts, eyes locked on hers. His finger lightly grazes down a fold in her dress. "Green really is your color."
Her breath catches as she looks down at his hand. There his finger is, just a hairsbreadth away from the slit up her thigh. She watches as he lightly fingers the material of her skirt, feeling just a whisper of the movement on her leg.
"I miss you, Hermione," he says in a hushed tone.
She gasps and blinks up at him. She stutters, "I-I—"
"Is Miss wanting a drink?" She flinches back, whirling around and finding that she's next in line.
"Yes, uh, water. Please." The house elf hands her a glass and she turns back to Tom. "I have to, um, g-go."
"Hermione." He reaches out to stop her, but she's already moved away. She pushes through the crowd, trying to get as much distance between them as she can.
She jumps as a hand lands on her arm, but relaxes as Viktor comes into view.
"There you are," he says. He furrows his brow as he takes in the look on her face. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she answers quickly. "Come on, I'll introduce you to my friends." She pulls him in their direction, firmly pushing Tom away from her mind.
The rest of the night speeds by quickly. They alternate their time between dancing and hanging out with their individual groups of friends. Viktor got along really well with all of her friends. Draco even pitched in with the quidditch talk after a few minutes, which was a pleasant surprise to Hermione. She found that the Durmstrang boys were all really funny and welcoming, too, despite their gruff outward appearance.
Close to midnight, the night starts winding down. Most of the adults retired to bed an hour ago, and a lot of the students have retired back to their dorms. Hermione has already said goodnight to her friends, and Viktor takes her arm to escort her up to Gryffindor Tower.
They make their way through the halls and up the stairs. They walk in a comfortable silence, both of them exhausted from the long night. They reach the seventh floor, heading towards the staircase leading up to the portrait of the Fat Lady at the end.
Midway down the hall, Hermione yelps as she's unexpectantly pulled into a hidden alcove. She staggers back against the wall as Viktor closes in on her. "Viktor?" she questions.
He rubs his thumb over her cheek, left hand on her waist. "I had a great time tonight, Hermione."
"I did, too," she says. "Thank you for asking me."
A pregnant pause fills the space as he scans her face, looking for an answer to an unasked question.
"May I kiss you?" he finally asks.
She hesitates, Tom's face unwittingly flashing through her mind. She mentally shakes her head, irritated that, even while not here, he continues to ruin her night. "Yes," she says before she can change her mind.
His hand moves from her cheek to tangle in her hair, cradling the back of her head. He leans forward slowly, giving her time to change her mind.
She doesn't.
She stretches up to meet him, lips finally touching his. The first kiss is chaste, just a small brush of lips. The second is firmer. He pulls her closer to him, his grip on her hip tightening. She gasps at the feeling and he uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss. She's heard stories of kisses from her roommates and Pansy and Daphne, but this isn't quite what she imagined. It feels … nice. But there's something missing that she can't quite place. She ignores the feeling, relaxing into his embrace as the kiss gets slightly more heated. She feels Viktor's hand moving, sliding up her side until it rests just under her breast. She steels herself for his touch.
Abruptly, she feels a rush of air as Viktor is ripped from their embrace. She blinks, confused, before looking into the hall and gasping at the sight of Tom straddled over Viktor on the floor, punching him in the face.
"Tom!" she yells, rushing over to them. She grabs onto his shoulders, trying to pull him off of Viktor. "Get off of him! You're killing him!"
He pauses, whipping his head around to face her. She gasps as she sees his bright, silver eyes. He gracefully rises, striding over to her. He lifts his hands and runs them over her face and body, searching for any harm. Her eyes widen as she sees elongated fingers and talons in place of his hands. She's frozen in shock, allowing him to continue his inspection.
She snaps out of her trance at movement on the floor. Viktor groans as he slowly moves to pull himself upright. Tom whirls around, guarding her protectively. She shifts to move around him, but he stops her. A low growl rumbles deep in his throat in warning.
"I need to check to see if he's alright! You could've killed him, Tom," she scolds. He still holds her back, growl growing louder. Changing tactics, she softly grabs onto his hand with both of hers and lowers her voice. "Let me make sure he's okay to get himself to the hospital wing and then I'll come back to you. Okay?" she asks, ducking her chin and looking up at him through her lashes.
He takes a moment to think, looking between her eyes, before he nods and steps slightly to the side.
"Thank you," she says.
She walks over to Viktor, who's just pulled himself up fully to stand. "Viktor? Are you okay?"
"Hermione?" He furrows his brow before looking behind her at Tom, eyes widening. He moves to pull out his wand, but Hermione throws her hands out in front of her to stop him.
"Wait!" she exclaims. "That will upset him more. Can you get yourself to the hospital wing?"
"Are you crazy? I'm not leaving you alone with him," he says incredulously.
"It's fine. He won't hurt me," she reassures. "I'm so sorry about this, Viktor. Please, go to Madam Pomfrey." At his hesitation, she reiterates, "He won't hurt me, I promise. I'll be fine, but you need medical attention."
Seeing that she's telling the truth, he nods. He glares back at Tom before turning and slowly making his way back through the hall and down the staircase.
She waits until he's fully out of sight before rounding on Tom. "What is wrong with you?!" she demands, hands landing on his chest to shove him back in her anger. He barely moves, infuriating her even more.
"He was touching you," he finally speaks, fists—normal again now that the threat is gone—clenched at his sides.
"And?!" She shoves him again. "That's none of your business, and it definitely wasn't reason enough for that!"
"It is my business." He scowls. "Anything to do with you is my business."
She barks out a humorless laugh. "No, it's absolutely not. Especiallynot now. Not after that barbaric display." She shoves him a third time. "Leave me alone, Tom. I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear about you. I don't want to think about you."
She gasps as he spins her around and pushes her back against the wall. He boxes her in with his hands on each side of her head and leans in close. "You are mine, Hermione. I left you alone because I knew you needed time to sort through your feelings, but in the end, you belong to me," he growls. "If anyone else ever touches you again, I won't stop like I did tonight."
She throws her hands up, punching and pushing against his chest. "Get away from me," she says furiously.
"Stop," he commands.
"No! Go away!"
"Stop." He quickly moves to grab her hands, pinning them to her sides and wrapping his arms around her tightly so she can't move.
"Let go of me!" She struggles against his hold, thrashing around.
He just holds her tighter. He bends his head forward and rests it in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent.
After a few minutes, she grows tired and stills. She sags in his arms. "I don't understand. Why are you acting this way? Please. I can't think of a single reason that you wou—" she cuts herself off with a gasp.
She doesn't know how she could forget. Veela. Veelas have mates. Tom's been waiting for his mate for years. A collection of memories barrel into her mind. Tom being nice to her and allowing her to spend every night in his office even though he hates Gryffindors just as much as Professor Snape. Tom asking her to dance at her first Malfoy New Year's Eve Party even though she knows now that he hates dancing. Tom, enraged, demanding to know what Ron said to upset her. Meaningful glances and fleeting touches. Always knowing when he's around and feeling her magic drawing her to him.
She's stunned. Speechless. Astounded.
She's his-his-his…
"Tom," she murmurs, sounding far more collected than she actually is. "Am I your mate?"
He tenses, breath shuddering against her neck. She shivers at the feeling.
Finally, after a moment, she feels him nod. She shakily lets out the breath she didn't even realize she was holding. Her mouth gapes, trying to speak but no words are coming out. She feels so stupid. She doesn't know how she never put the pieces together.
Well, that's not true. She does know.
Never in her life would she have ever thought this would happen to her. She's not special. Or unique. She's nothing. But this, this means she's something. And she would have never believed that something like this would involve her.
But it does.
She's someone's mate. She's Tom's mate. This revelation shocks her most of all.
Tom is still holding her, breathing her in like she's the only thing keeping him alive.
Maybe she is.
She opens her mouth to finally speak. "Tom, I-I—"
He startles her as he springs away from her and turns, rushing down the hall and away from her.
She slumps back against the wall, shuddering out heavy breaths, trying to make sense of this and come to terms with the fact that her life has now been irrevocably changed forever.