First there was triumph.
Then there was panic.
Tom stepped forward slowly, almost in shock, and then he threw himself across the room, summoning the sofa to rest her body upon. "Hermione! Hermione, oh fuck, oh no. Hold still, just a moment." He cast his wand once over her body, running a basic diagnostic, trying to remember what the last spell he had sent her way had been.
She wasn't even making a noise, just shaking like a rag doll, silent tears falling down her cheeks. It took him a moment to compose himself as he was hit with the similarity of their last undesirable encounter: her betrayed eyes glistening, her freezing body shuddering in the seconds before he lunged and disarmed her.
He was trying to gain her trust and he had let this happen. Was he a complete fucking idiot? How on earth would she forgive him now? Why did he always have to be the victor?
Because she had threatened his life before and nearly gotten away with it.
Diagnostic done he ran to his potion's cabinet, silently praying that he had what he needed to fix this problem. Some pain numbing draught and a muscle relaxant to calm her, a sickly smelling purple vial frustratingly hidden in the back to fully cure her. It was all fast acting, but he had to move quickly and administer the tonic from the vial first to make sure she wouldn't suffer from the slightly more fatal effects of the spell.
"This is going to taste awful, and probably hurt a lot but you need to swallow all of this Hermione, do you hear me?"
She couldn't respond.
"Fuck." Tom hissed, pulling her up to rest against him so that he could better administer the potions. With her trembling body held tight with one arm he prised open her clenched jaws to pour in the contents of the vial, and immediately pushed her mouth closed again, remembering to draw a finger down her throat to ease her swallowing. He then held her tightly for 90 seconds, trying to quell her shaking as much for his sake as for her own, until her body stopped moving of its own accord entirely.
Her breathing was ragged, and her eyes squeezed shut in anguish. Tom let her go and, one at a time, gently raised the medicines to her lips, watching as she slowly but surely began to relax.
They stayed as they were, Hermione's head nestled in his lap. She didn't want to move, it hurt enough to breathe.
"I'm sorry." He said again, too quietly.
He wouldn't look at her, she didn't want him to, not with those few stray tears she could feel drifting down her cheeks.
"It's okay." She breathed, trying to smile, trying to make him not pity her in some way. "You won…"
"Stop speaking until you feel better. I shouldn't have done that. It was…unwise."
"But you…healed me." She was struggling to get all the words out, but it didn't hurt so much anymore.
"It doesn't matter! Stupid girl, agreeing to such ridiculous rules, aren't you supposed to be the sensible one?" He was furious. He couldn't make sense of what he was feeling. There was concern certainly, but what for? He tried to tell himself that he was simply worried about easing their relations, making her malleable, but he couldn't deny that that had not been his primary concern upon seeing the girl writhing on the floor before him. It made him so angry. His foolishness for hurting her, his foolishness for caring. After all his grand designs were starting to be set in motion, he had to ruin it with his pride and arrogance.
In his fury he kicked his heel against the edge of the sofa, instantly feeling a great whelk of pain bloom across his calf where Hermione had cut him. He let out an anguished breath and Hermione carefully raised herself to see.
"Oh n-no! T-tom your…leg. Let me…"
"No, don't worry. I can fix this easily enough." He smiled tightly, carelessly waving his wand to seal the wound.
Hermione gasped at the state of the cut and quickly squeezed his other arm to stop him, unable to express herself quickly enough through words. "N-no, no…no. St-op." She took a deep breath. "You're doing it….w-wrong. Please. Let me."
Tom couldn't argue with her set features, at once stern and concerned. It was getting her moving again. She stood slowly, moving herself to sit on the floor at his feet. With steady motions she summoned a bucket and filled it with water which she used a charm to heat. Then she summoned some cloth from her bag, along with an ointment of sorts which she added to the water.
"We clean the wound." She started, her voice already sounding steadier. "It's more tho-rough manually, b-because we can't see all the dirt we'd need to magic away. We might…m-miss some."
And so she set to work, carefully rolling up Tom's trousers to reveal the wound and douse it with gentle strokes of the cloth. Tom winced at the pressure, half wishing she'd have just let him fix it himself and half enjoying the warm feeling spreading from the contact.
"I was mad because of an art-article." Hermione began, starting her words over as if mad at herself for continuing to suffer the side effects of the spell.
"Hermione you don't have to say anything. The bet's off. You need to rest." He insisted.
Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him. "Witch Weekly. Nosey reporter c-called Rita…Skeeter. She decided it was ap-appropriate to speculate on my love life, writing a h-horrid article about a fictitious love triangle between me, my boyfriend…and m-my best friend, all in an attempt to cover up the fact that she is q-quite simply a terrible reporter."
"You? The subject of juicy gossip column? I don't like to cast judgements Hermione but that doesn't seem to quite fit with your aesthetic. Ouch! I take it back."
"D-don't make me laugh." She coughed. "It hurts."
He considered her again for a moment. "Why do you care what she writes about you?"
"F-firstly, those sorts of articles are a downright disgrace at the best of times, even without actively knowing that they are ut-ter tosh. But secondly, most importantly, it is really rather jarring when such speculation is broadcast to an entire cl-classroom of friends and acquaintances, harbouring ridicule from not only them but the professor." She took a deep breath in, steadying herself, but still not drawing her eyes from the wound. "It's bad enough to be lied about without those lies being publicly accessible. Alright, let me show you the spell."
Tom watched her carefully as she cast, but wasn't really taking in the information, thinking more about how to solve her problem. Gossip articles, about her love life? Who would even believe such nonsense? Not that she couldn't get away with tagging along two partners at once, but with her strict moral code who would believe it for a second. "Why do you care what your peers think? Reacting will only strengthen their enjoyment."
Hermione sighed and looked up at him. "Because I'm sick of being treated like an outcast for no good reason. And I'm tired of pretending that n-nothing hurts me. Pay attention."
He tried to focus once again on her actions, amused at her determination to right his lazy spellcasting. He watched her delicate hand movements, unrushed, pinpointed. He mimicked her silently, staring no longer at her wand but at her lips producing with perfect enunciation the spell needed to close the open flesh together cleanly and firmly.
Hermione looked up with a pleased smile when she finished, immediately locking eyes with him and noting the intensity of his gaze. Her smile faded, but she didn't falter. "Did you get that?"
"You know, I don't think I did." He said, refusing to break their eye contact.
Even in the wake of his spellcasting she showed mercy. Mercy without weakness. A defiance against anything weak. She defied fragility. Even when dressing his wounds, even when faced with the full force of his gaze she did not look away.
It was only when Hermione's expression flickered in panic that he realised he had begun to lean in closer…
"Well, that's the last time I help you, then." She declared chirpily, suddenly very occupied with clearing up the aftermath of their friendly duel. "Perhaps we should wait a while before we do this sort of thing again."
Tom's jaw clenched. She was so…
Damn him. Damn her. After he'd potentially irreversibly harmed her, she just carried on as usual. Did she care? Was she not the least bit upset? Would she just let herself be pushed around by anybody? But no, she pushed back against him. Merlin forbid she ever let him show her kindness. Anyone else could have her do anything they pleased with their kind smiles, but she shrivelled from his.
"So that's it?"
Hermione could hear the edge in his voice, but she had long since finished being afraid of him. This was a mistake. "What's 'it'? What do you mean?"
His eyes were focussed on the ground. "I mean you're happy just to leave it at that? After I recklessly wounded you?"
"Nothing you couldn't heal. Just like mine with you. We both hurt each other, and we're fixed now. Those were the terms."
"But you're the same with everything, Granger. A pushover. What I did to you was beyond what you did to me. But you in your moral superiority just let it slide."
"Why do you care?" She snapped, upset that after she'd just exposed her vulnerability to him he had to act this way, without any provocation, for the first time in months trying to provoke her into a real argument. What did he want?
Tom stood and came over to her, talking at her over her shoulder. "Because you just claimed to be sick and tired of being treated as lesser than."
Hermione ignored him, continuing to tidy up and fix the books that had gotten tampered with. "And here I was thinking that was a duel between consenting equals."
Then he took her by the arms, forcing her to face him as he continued. "If you're going to complain about being victimised the least you can do is try not to act the victim. This isn't just about me; this is about others too. Like this Rita Skeeter. Are you just going to let her get away with ridiculing you like that? She's delved into private, personal matters and defamed you, are you just going to let that slide?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed his grip away. "There's a concept of being the bigger person, Tom."
"Funny how the bigger person usually ends up under the smaller person's foot." Tom bit back, venomously.
"What do you suggest I do? Write a passive-aggressive letter and send it to her complaint column by owl? Or better yet, should I just maim her in public?"
"A well-placed spell never hurt anyone it wasn't meant to." He smirked. That was too much for Hermione.
"Oh grow up, Tom. I'm leaving now, you better be in better mood when I come back." She picked up her things and made to leave. Tom was about to stop her himself when she turned, unexpectedly, for one last word. "And for what it's worth I had fun today. The most fun I've had in a while. I didn't care that I got hurt because I knew I could count on you to fix it, and because just for a second I thought the reason you lost control might be because you were starting to have fun too."
Tom's wand dropped down to his side as he watched her walk out of the mirror and draw the tarp across its surface with a silent flick of her wrist.
Clever little witch, always knowing what to say to keep out of harm's way.
Viktor took her hands in his, smiling gently down at her like he always did. "I have had such a nice day Hermy-o-ny. You always make it easier. Say all the right things."
Hermione blushed, letting the contentment inside her bloom and fill her up. "Thank you, Viktor. I've had a lovely day as well, thank you for convincing me to come out with you. It's been nice to take my mind off of things."
"Of course. It is my job to make you smile and relax but…" A group of girls walked past and immediately huddled closer in whispers after catching sight of the pair. Hermione tried to ignore them but her smile tightened. Viktor continued. "But I think it may be best to take a break from this for now, out in public."
Hermione looked at the floor, brows pulled together in confusion. Then she looked back up, a fake smile plastered on her face. She nodded soberly. "No, no of course. That makes perfect sense. Because of…because of the article. Rumours."
"Yes, yes. I do want to see you, my sweet. But I am worried about what people are saying about you, and your friend. I want this to be enjoyable, not hard." He said, and she could tell that he meant it, in the softness of his eyes and the way his fingers lingered on her chin before letting go.
She nodded again, taking the time to bring the words to the fore. "Okay. We'll give the rumours some time to settle. But then you'll come visit me in the library again?" She piped, her eyes hopeful and her voice meek.
"Of course my studious little witch. We will see each other again soon." Krum looked around as another group of students whispered past. "I will go now. Speak soon, Hermi-o-ninny." He pressed one of her hands to his lips and walked away.
Hermione took a moment, still unable to tune out the sound of students nattering around her. It wasn't fair. She was young, this was the time to enjoy things like this, take the time to explore and understand her feelings. And she always behaved so well, always followed- well, she followed the rules that mattered. To think that people actually believed the articles, that she was… like that.
To think that Viktor couldn't handle it.
No, that wasn't fair to him, he was just thinking of her, just thinking of Harry. It was all rational. It was. She ought not to be sulking. It wouldn't fix anything.
She could blame Rita Skeeter all she liked for the situation, but she could only blame herself for letting the feelings pile up. If it hadn't been for that eavesdropping wretch then none of this would have happened. If she had just kept her nose out of everyone's business. Honestly, she couldn't even comprehend why anyone would consent to be quoted or interviewed by that woman… Not that it mattered, she wouldn't let it tear her apart.
A few days later, Hermione received some hate-mail from an anonymous sender. By the end of the week the one had turned into many.
Tom wasn't right. He was wrong but…it wouldn't hurt to do what she did best.
Research.
A/N: Just a re-upload without some bits I wanted to change. Not a new chapter yet but should have one for you soon!
