Year Six: Chapter Seventeen

Nothing came of Ron's date with Lavender. When asked, Ron shrugged. "It wasn't bad. Lavender's great. She thinks about things, and she's way more observant than I'd have thought. But… That's why both of us could tell that I'm just not in a good place to focus on dating. Maybe, in a few years, after Voldemort's gone, if she's still single…" He shrugged again. "Maybe."

Lavender, according to Hermione, was fine with that result. In her words, "It was fun, but I get that Ron's got other things to worry about right now. If I'm still free when that's all wrapped up, I'd like to see where that could go, but it's not like I'm going to sit around pining." She ended up asking Dean to the next Hogsmeade weekend.

Winter break was fast approaching. More than a month had passed, enough that even Tom was ready for the next step of the Animagus transformation. Along the way, quite a few students had quit. It was a long, tedious process, and not everyone had the patience for it. Still, there remained a good dozen students. All they needed was a thunderstorm, and at last, December 3rd, on a Tuesday, they got one. Everyone completed the last steps in the morning before class, then gathered in the Room of Requirement after dinner. A nervous buzz of energy filled the room. Then, one by one, people began the change. Hermione (who still wasn't comfortable with the idea of inviting an animal's instincts into her consciousness) supervised to make sure no one panicked and let the animal's instincts overtake them.

Ron went first and became a small dog of some manner. Then Ginny became a bird of prey. Luna changed into… something. Another and another and another. At last, only Tom remained.

Tom pointed his wand at himself and said, "Amato Animo Animato Animagus." Burning heat rushed through him, his heartbeat pounding until it became two separate beats, and then he was shrinking, arms and legs melding into one long, thin body.

It wasn't as strange as he'd expected. As predicted, he was some manner of snake, though he couldn't see himself to figure out what kind. He could sense, though, that he wasn't venomous, nor did he feel like he was large enough to be a constrictor. He flicked his tongue out, tasting the air. A huge pair of hands lifted him up, and he made out a blurry figure he thought might be Hermione. He waited, wondering when the snake's instincts would appear, but other than a vague sense of unease at being handled, he didn't feel particularly different. Perhaps it'd be different if some manner of prey had been present.

After a moment, she set him back down and, with some concentration, he reverted to his human form. "Well?" he asked. "What kind of snake am I?"

Hermione - he was right, she was the one who'd picked him up - gave him an amused look. "You're a king snake."

Tom's lips twisted.

Ginny cocked her head to the side. "Do you think that makes Voldemort a coral snake?"

Tom shot her a disgruntled look. Still, there was no doing anything about his less than deadly form. Instead, he turned to Luna. "And what are you?"

Luna beamed. "A crumple-horned snorkack, I would imagine. It's ever so exciting. I can't wait to show Daddy." She transformed again, and Tom was unnerved to realize that her form was actually quite terrifying. She'd described it as a purple quadruped with a pig's snout and a spiral horn. What she'd never mentioned was how many, many rows of sharp teeth snorkacks apparently had, nor their barbed tails.

"A -" Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't process the idea that something she was so positive was imaginary could be a real creature. Or at least, real enough for Luna to become one. Tom wasn't sure that they had to actually exist, given how belief-based magic tended to be. It was wholly possible that Luna was able to become one simply because she believed they were real.

After some more practice, everyone switching back and forth between forms, they headed back up to Gryffindor Tower, ready for some well-deserved rest. Upon entering the dorm though, Tom frowned. His bed curtains were open, and a box of chocolates sat on his pillow. He glanced at Hermione, then at Ginny, but both girls seemed equally mystified. He picked it up and examined it, but there was nothing indicating who left it there. With a sigh, he cast a detection spell and grimaced when it revealed they'd been laced with something.

"Poison?" Hermione wondered.

Tom cast another few spells. The world grayed as he snarled, "Love potion." Cold lanced through his chest, and sound became muted as a high-pitched ringing took over.

Hermione glared at the box. "Is there any way to tell who did it?" She sounded like she was speaking from a great distance, though Tom was aware enough to realize that she was still right next to him.

"Other than ingesting it? Not really," Tom said. Even his own voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. He realized that his hands were shaking and clenched them into fists to stop them. He hoped neither girl was paying attention to their bond, because he couldn't control himself enough to hide this right now.

"It was that fifth year - Romilda whatever."

All three turned to face Finnegan, who was pulling open his curtains. He shrugged. "I was here taking a break to… Well, anyway, I was here, and the door opened. I peeked out and saw her putting those there. Didn't know she'd done something to them or I'd have told her off."

The door slammed, and Tom realized that Ginny was gone. He glanced at Hermione, who bit her lip. Through the bond, he felt a sort of rage he'd never felt from anyone but himself before. Strangely, it helped. Color returned, and the ringing faded. He glanced at the box and smiled humorlessly, then flicked his wand. Flames engulfed it, the heat singeing the bed sheets despite his efforts to keep the fire under control.

Anxiety flowed through from Hermione's end of the bond. "Should I go after her?"

"As long as you don't stop her," Tom told her. He hoped Ginny would murder Vane. Or worse. "You may want to Obliviate her dorm mates though." He could feel the exact moment Ginny reached her dorm and, presumably, found Vane there. As Hermione rushed out, he closed his eyes and collapsed onto his bed, ignoring the uncertain look Finnegan shot him.

When Ginny's excitement surged as she cast the first spell, Tom mused that Sirius had been correct. That was interesting. He wondered how he should reward Ginny. Something physical - she didn't demand as much contact as Luna, but the way she clung to him in her sleep said she'd appreciate it more than a gift - and some praise, perhaps.

He mulled over the idea until the door opened again and his girls walked in having a whispered argument. Tom grabbed Ginny's wrist, ignoring Hermione for the moment, and pulled her into his lap. "Thank you," he said quietly into her ear. For her, for the girl who'd attacked so viciously over the mere intention to potion him, he could stand additional contact. He wrapped his arms around her and let her feel his full appreciation through the bond. Ginny sighed with pleasure and nuzzled against him, and Tom smiled, the last remnants of cold dissipating from his chest.

Hermione climbed into bed next to him, closed the curtains, and hissed, "She was torturing the girl!"

"Yes. Would you expect anything less after she–" Tom's voice wavered, and he stopped talking rather than risk another show of how unnerved he felt about the attempted potioning. He couldn't suppress the full body shudder that accompanied it, but Hermione didn't seem to pay it any mind. Ginny, however, glanced up at him in concern. He shook his head. "I would rather someone use the Cruciatus on me than suffer even one minute under one of those potions," he said once he felt sure of his self-control. He looked down into Ginny's eyes. "That is what you used, isn't it?"

She nodded and sent a defiant look toward Hermione, who appeared troubled. "I suppose," the brunette allowed at last. "Thankfully, no one else was there, so I Obliviated her and left but… What if someone finds out? If she goes to the hospital wing for the aftereffects, they're sure to realize what happened, and from there it wouldn't be hard to connect that to Ginny storming past a nearly full Common Room."

Tom sighed. "That's why you layer the Obliviation with a compulsion to avoid letting anyone examine her. By the time the compulsion wears off, there's no trace left."

Hermione blinked, then nodded. "Right. I suppose I should go do that then," she said with a put upon sigh.

"Wait," Tom said, holding up a hand. "There's a larger problem." He paused, wondering if either girl would realize it on their own.

Happily, Ginny did. "If she doesn't remember getting punished, there's no reason for her to avoid doing it again." She shot an irritated glare at Hermione. "That's why I told you not to."

Tom nodded. "Indeed. If you'll recall, I only said to Obliviate her roommates." He smiled sharply. "But then again, this gives me a reason to enact my own revenge." He stood, lips twisting downward. "A shame I already burned the chocolates, but…"

Hermione stopped him. "I'll take care of it," she said.

Tom paused, then fell back against his pillow with a disappointed sigh. "Very well." Hermione left. He tried to relax, but he felt restless. He pushed Ginny off of him gently and stood. "I'm going out." He exited the dorm, aware of Ginny's brief hesitation before she followed him. He ignored her, Disillusioning himself as he went. Behind him, he heard the sound of Ginny doing the same, though a brief glance showed that her spell was not entirely effective. She must have realized as much, because he then heard a rustle of fabric and, when he glanced back again, she was completely invisible.

Tom left Hogwarts and headed into the Forbidden Forest, and from there followed the spider webs deeper into the woods. Chittering clicks followed him, and he smiled. Any human would have run from that smile, but unfortunately for them, Acromantula were hardly masters of human expressions. At last, he found himself in the very depths of the Acromantula's nest.

"Friend of Hagrid, I warned you once," a raspy voice said. "But now, even if I wished to, I could not protect you. You should not have come."

"That's fine," Tom said. His heart pounded in anticipation, and he couldn't help but grin. He raised his wand. "Fiendfyre." He swiped his wand through the air, and fiery serpents and lions and chimeras devoured everything. Ear-piercing shrieks surrounded him, and he closed his eyes to relish the smell of burning sentient beings. Slowly, a tension he hadn't fully realized was there relaxed.

"Um, Tom? Are we okay here?"

He glanced at Ginny, who'd removed the Cloak and was wiping sweat from her face desperately. No cooling charm could save someone from the heat of Fiendfyre. "It's under control," he assured, enjoying the feeling of stretching his magic to keep the fire burning only the spiders, though of course the extreme heat was starting to turn the forest itself into kindling. Controlling that as well took an additional amount of mental energy, but the challenge just made him laugh giddily. The feeling of the dark magic surging through his veins was intoxicating, and for a moment he wondered how good it might feel to let the flames rage free, burning everything in the forest without care.

He didn't, of course.

Once every last Acromantula had burned, Tom slowly, methodically extinguished the fire. At last, with the Forest no longer in danger of burning down, he returned to his dorm, under the Cloak with Ginny this time. They passed Hagrid rushing into the Forest in a panic, and Tom's smile widened as he imagined the half-giant's reaction.

"Where were you?" Hermione demanded once they were back. Then she frowned. "Why do you smell like smoke?"

"Tom may have just removed the entire Acromantula population," Ginny said with a grimace. "I'll be back. I need a shower. Burning spider is an awful smell."

Hermione frowned. "Why would you do that?"

"Because," Tom said, already turning his attention to a book, "I wanted to." If Hermione couldn't figure out how very much he'd needed the release after having been denied killing anyone for so long, that was her problem. Now, a slow lethargy seeping through him, he at last felt in the right frame of mind to appreciate Hermione's efforts. "Were you successful?"

Hermione blinked, startled by the change of subject, then nodded. Guilty pleasure flowed through the bond from her, and Tom smiled fondly. She'd come such a long way. "Romilda may have had some extra potion in her trunk, and I may have force-fed some of it to her."

In the morning, it came out that Romilda Vane, fifth-year Gryffindor, had been sent to the Hospital Wing after being discovered staring into a mirror, attempting to make love to her reflection. The rumor mill said she'd made a love potion and accidentally ingested it herself. From across the table, Finnegan shuddered and nodded to Hermione, who smiled back.

Not too long after, Slughorn announced a Christmas Party and invited both Hermione and Tom to it. The man still watched Tom warily, but the skittishness from the first few months seemed to be receding. Now the man merely smiled as Tom handed in his potion sample, commenting, "Another flawless potion, Mister Potter?"

Tom smiled his Harry Potter smile. "I hope so, sir."

Hermione approached him after class. "Tom, do you want to go together?" she asked. Seeing his blank expression, she clarified, "To Slughorn's Christmas Party."

Tom cocked his head. He'd thought about asking Luna, but… "Sure." It made no real difference to him so long as he had someone rational to interact with.

Hermione seemed to slump. "Oh, good," she breathed in relief. "I mean, alright. Thanks. Um…" She laughed self-consciously. "Anyway, what are we doing this week in The Gray?"

"Just dueling," Tom said, shrugging off her odd behavior. "I want to start ritual magic in the new year, so there's no point starting anything new right now."

The night of Slughorn's party, Tom found himself waiting for Hermione in the Common Room. It was taking her an inordinate amount of time, but then she was still a girl, rational or not. Ginny sat next to him in front of the fire, kicking her feet sullenly. "I just think you should have invited me or Luna," she complained for the upteenth time. "You two were both already invited, and we weren't."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Why does it matter? I'm only attending in the first place because Slughorn can be annoyingly insistent when someone declines his invitations."

"Because, now you'll have been on a date with Hermione and not us," Ginny said. "I mean, if you're going in order, I guess that makes sense, but… Tom?"

Tom had frozen. It hadn't actually occurred to him that this could be seen as a date. To his annoyance, Ginny caught his surprise and snorted. "Right, you weren't even thinking about that," she muttered, shaking her head in resigned amusement. She sighed heavily and flopped back against the back of the couch. "I should have known." For some reason, the realization seemed to make her happier.

Tom grimaced. He suspected that sooner or later he'd have to address this, and he really didn't want to. Thankfully, Hermione appeared then. Tom fairly leapt off the couch and took her hand. "You look lovely," he said perfunctorily without even glancing at her. "Have a good night, Ginny." He pulled Hermione along after him.

As they walked to the dungeons, Hermione twined her fingers through his and took a few quick steps so they were walking together. She kept glancing at him, and Tom wasn't sure what she was looking for. At last, she sighed and asked, "What do you think it'll be like?"

Tom hummed thoughtfully. "Probably some people of dubious import, a lot of food, and drinks to ease the interactions." He shivered, remembering another one of Slughorn's parties. That wouldn't happen tonight, he reassured himself. If nothing else, Hermione wouldn't let it.

True to his prediction, Slughorn's party was a gaudy affair full of vaguely important figures, including a vampire who reared away from Tom as though the boy was made of garlic and holy water. Tom and Hermione wondered about that, but even Worple, the man who'd brought the vampire in the first place, had no idea.

"At least the drinks are good," Hermione commented, eyeing the latest person to introduce themselves to The Boy Who Lived only to be rebuffed by an increasingly prickly Tom.

Tom swirled the glass and smirked. "You do realize it's been spiked with muggle vodka, right?"

Hermione gaped at him, outraged. "Why didn't you tell me?" Then her brows furrowed. "Wait, you cast the detection spell, but nothing came up."

Tom nodded, amused. "It's not effective against the weaker muggle poisons. I just happened to recognize the taste." He took a sip and licked his lips. "It is quite good though. Whoever added it did their homework." Of course, that was only natural. It was almost certainly Slughorn himself, because the man wasn't an idiot. He knew full-well that many of the same people he was courting would end up getting too annoyed to appreciate the networking if there wasn't some kind of buffer.

"Are you sure you should be drinking it?" Hermione asked with a frown, even as she also drank some more. At Tom's raised eyebrow, she flushed. "Well, it does taste good, and, well, I'm not sure I can tolerate much more of this party otherwise."

"Fair." Tom glanced around and spotted Draco who, somewhat surprisingly, had Astoria on his arm. Not far away, Tracey and Blaise were dancing, while Daphne eyed her sister's date suspiciously.

A moment later, the song ended, and Tom led Hermione over to Draco and Astoria. "Having fun? Tom asked.

Draco stiffened up, but Astoria just nodded, beaming. "I wanted to ask, actually," she said. "Is it alright if I create a bond with someone else too?"

"We decided it was better if -" Hermione started, but Tom interrupted, saying, "You may." At Hermione's questioning glance, he shrugged. "I'm curious."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries with the Slytherins and Ravenclaw, then Hermione pulled him away. With a suspicious look, she asked, "If you're curious, would you be just as happy to let me try bonding with someone else? Or what about Ginny and Luna? Or Bellatrix and Severus?"

Tom winced. "Well, Bella's welcome to it, I suppose… and I honestly don't want to imagine Severus bonding with someone else, but I wouldn't exactly be bothered by him doing so…" Probably. He did feel strangely possessive thinking about it, but it was just so unlikely that he had a hard time worrying about it. When he thought about the other three though… His stomach was performing a strange sinking sort of acrobatics. He rushed to explain. "But… you and Ginny and Luna shouldn't. In case it does affect the bond. That way I still have half the members at the very least," he decided. To his dismay, Hermione looked strangely victorious. He knew what she was thinking, but he didn't know how to correct her, or if he should even try. Instead, he drained his glass and nodded to the open floor in the middle of the room. "Care to dance?"

Hermione beamed. "Of course."

It was less tedious than he remembered. He still wouldn't say dancing was enjoyable, but it wasn't terrible, leading Hermione around. She smelled faintly of flowers, but it was a soft sort of smell, unlike the overpoweringly floral scent that – he shook his head, forcing himself back to the present.

Perhaps it was irresponsible, but they ended up staying quite late at the party, and by the time they returned to Gryffindor, both were on the drunk side of tipsy. "What do you want for Christmas?" Tom asked as they changed in the bathroom. Though they were facing away from each other, he could see her back in the mirror, and he watched her, feeling unusually mellow.

"Mmmm, you." Hermione giggled, struggling with her bra. After a moment she huffed and Vanished it before pulling on her nightclothes. She turned suddenly and caught him watching, but rather than being upset, she grinned. "What about you?"

Part of him felt that this was a very dangerous sort of conversation. However, he couldn't quite bring himself to care enough to do anything about it. "To watch you torture someone," he said, thinking that he should have some sort of Hermione-focused reply since hers had revolved around him.

There was a pause, then Hermione laughed and shook her head. "I should've expected that." Somehow she'd gotten right in front of him. She leaned forward and kissed him. Her cheeks were flushed, and he felt a dizzying rush of cloudy emotions through the bond. That would be the effect of the alcohol, he mused, and Hermione must have taken his lack of reaction for consent, because she kissed him again, longer.

That part of Tom that thought this was a bad idea was screaming at him now, but Tom instead closed his eyes and pulled her closer.

In the end, it was little more than kissing, though he felt Hermione's arousal through the bond and, for the first time, was able to identify it immediately. When they separated, her pupils were blown wide with desire, and Tom felt an absurd urge to take her. It would be easy. As she was right now, she wouldn't fight at all.

He swallowed and pushed her away, shaken. Those weren't his thoughts. They couldn't be. "Come on," he told her hoarsely. "We should get to bed." He left, ignoring the whimper from behind him as she realized the moment was over.

Ginny sat up waiting for them, and Tom realized belatedly that she could feel everything he'd been feeling. And whatever was wrong with him made him look from her lips down to the hollow at the base of her throat, and then further to the way her nightshirt brushed the very tops of her thighs. She cocked her head to the side, considering him, and he could feel how badly she wanted him and could, for the first time, somewhat appreciate how much she'd been restraining herself, but now he was coming back to himself, and he just… couldn't. But she just nodded with a terribly understanding look and then pulled Hermione closer and kissed her instead. Tom watched them for a moment, wide-eyed. It was fairly obvious from the way they were acting that this wasn't new to them. He was aware that his own breath was coming in ragged gasps, and he supposed he wasn't quite as recovered as he'd thought.

Neither girl stayed up much longer, and they settled into their usual places as though nothing had happened. Tom, on the other hand, didn't sleep at all. As the alcohol filtered out of his system, he expected to feel sick, at the least, at his actions and reactions. He'd thought the past couple hours would feel distant, like watching someone else using his body. The way he'd felt the other time. That once. Instead, he only felt the familiar headache of a burgeoning hangover. He didn't know what to make of that, but he had all night to consider it.

By morning, he'd concluded that perhaps Hermione hadn't been incorrect. And that it was probably quite rude to make Luna keep sleeping in Ravenclaw by herself, given how affected Ginny seemed to have been. He'd have to make it up to the blonde, and it surprised him to realize that he didn't entirely dread the thought.

That, of course, led to the realization that there were three others who would have felt everything he'd felt, and that was humiliating in the case of Severus, mildly annoying in the case of Astoria (he could practically hear her smirking now), and potentially worrisome in the case of Bella. Neville wasn't in his bed, and Tom wondered if he should be concerned, but on the other hand, it was quite after the fact, so there wasn't much he could do about it now. That decided, Tom glanced at the time and decided he could probably manage an hour or two of rest before he needed to get up. He closed his eyes, mind already drifting.

Naturally, that was when he felt the connection to Neville's Mark burn with panicked magic. He cursed and sat up.

"Mmm Tom?" Hermione slurred, grimacing in the pre-dawn light.

"Go back to sleep," he commanded. His magic turned the order into a compulsion, and the girl nuzzled into the pillow and drifted back off.

Tom got dressed and hurried to the Chamber. Luna, as she so often did, appeared but, taking in his expression, said nothing and merely followed him.

When they arrived, Tom stopped and stared. Abbot stood there like a doll, clearly under the Imperius, while Bones lay bound on the ground, unconscious and covered in thin, sluggishly bleeding cuts. Bella was utterly nude and unashamedly smirking up at him, while Neville sat away from them, head between his knees, twitching convulsively. Tom might have thought he'd been subjected to the Cruciatus, but the clarity in his eyes when the boy lifted his head put that thought to rest.

"What happened?" Tom asked. He couldn't make heads or tails of this tableau.

"They came to find me when I was…" Neville grit his teeth and looked down, shame or something like it spreading across his face. "I was having sex with Bella. Again."

Bella crawled over to the boy, still smirking. "Master loves little Bella very much," she purred. And thought Neville looked like he hated himself for it, he reached out and stroked her cheek.

Tom's eye twitched. "Get dressed," he ordered, not bothering to hide his irritation. An addict, Tom thought. That's what Neville looked like. An addict who knew how bad their drug of choice was for them but couldn't stop. "So?" he demanded. "How does that lead to one girl half dead and another under the Imperius?

"I was getting there," Neville snapped, then winced, looking abashed. "Sorry." He took a calming breath. "They surprised me, and I just… cast the first thing I thought of. It was… not something I should have cast at an ally," he admitted, glancing at Susan's unconscious form. "And then Hannah attacked, so I had to defend us from her, and this seemed like the best way to do it."

"The best way." Tom stared at him, feeling the lack of sleep strongly. "Better than simply Stupefying her?"

The way Neville's eyes widened, he hadn't even considered the option, but the boy's gaze hardened into familiar Gryffindorish stubbornness. "She might have shielded against that. Hannah's never been good at using physical shields though, so something that would pass through a purely magical shield was the best option."

It was a fair defense, and Tom might have believed it had he not seen that initial moment of hesitation. Still, it wasn't up to him to police the boy's spell choices. "Do you just need me to heal her then?" he asked, gesturing toward Susan.

Neville shook his head. "I can do that much. But… If I just Obliviate them, they'll end up coming here again. What do I do?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Have you tried simply not having sex with Bella?" The witch in question shot him an annoyed look, but he had plenty of practice ignoring her.

"I - Of course I did," Neville defended. "But I just… I can't stop thinking about her. You - you of all people must know what that's like!" He sounded desperate now.

"Not in the slightest," Tom drawled, unimpressed. "I can promise I've never even once touched Bella in that way." Well, he thought Neville was actually experiencing some interesting side effects of the spells he'd been using, and Tom understood the near physical need to cast certain spells - his recent bout in the Forest came to mind - but he saw no reason to delve into the psychology of it all. "What do you want me to do? I have no objections, so long as it doesn't cause trouble for me, but I would like time to enjoy breakfast before the train departs for London."

When he saw Bella lean over and whisper into Neville's ear, Tom knew he should expect something distasteful. What he didn't expect was how quickly the boy's resistance faded into determined acceptance. There was a lesson to be learned here, Tom thought, about paying careful attention to the psychological states of his servants. Clearly, Neville had been more fragile than he'd believed.

"Can you make them act normally for a couple days? Bella says her family has a ritual that can be used to modify another person's mind that would work perfectly, but she won't be able to perform it until we can come visit you at Grimmauld Place."

That made Tom's eyebrows raise. Interest peaked, he nodded. "I can do that," he agreed. He waved his wand once, healing Susan and removing the memory of what had happened to her, then cast, "Imperio." He examined the girls dispassionately. "You will both return to your dorms and act as though you spent the night there. You will continue to act normally after that. You will find a way to visit either Grimmauld Place or Longbottom Manor within the first couple days of break if possible without arousing suspicion, and send word if you cannot do so."

The two girls left, looking tired but otherwise fine. Tom glanced at Neville, who nodded, and turned to Luna. "Breakfast?"

The blonde beamed. "Yes please." As they walked back toward the Great Hall, Luna held his hand and hummed cheerfully. "Bella seems to have been enjoying herself. When you get around to having sex with us, can I be first?"

Tom pressed his eyes closed and sighed.

AN: I've planned on Tom being a king snake for aaaaaaaaaaaages because it fits so well. Of course, I'm not sure that it really matters at any point, but… Oh well.

So it's NaNoWriMo once more, so I've been writing. There will be at least a few more chapters over the next month and a half or so. There are more scenes that have already been written and just need getting to, so hopefully the updates will be a bit more uhhhh existent for the foreseeable future.