Happy Sunday, all! I hope everyone is safe and healthy and feeling good as we head into another week. Reviews keep me alive - I love everyone's speculation. It's like you all know that Tom Riddle is a shady, evil guy :)
Thank you so much to my beta (!) CatzRko0L for keeping this on track!
Hermione couldn't decide whether 'the day after' being a Saturday was a blessing or a curse. She woke up with a start, letting out a groan. What had possessed her to attack her boss last night?
After cleaning her teeth, she felt a bit more in control of her senses. Tom never hesitated to walk away when women flirted with him- would he really allow her to kiss him if he wasn't interested?
The thought of him being interested only caused her to spiral more. What about her job? What about Tom's job and ambitions? What would papa say?
She needed to unload on someone, but who?
"Stella?" Hermione called.
"Oh, Mistress Hermione is being awake! Stella is been waiting… she is missing you!" the elf squealed, spinning around in a happy circle before hugging her mistress.
Hermione let out a laugh, "I missed you too, Stella. Can you ask Narcissa if she can come upstairs?"
"Oh, yes. Stella is getting Miss Cissy now!"
A knock on the door sounded only moments later. Hermione would've been more self-conscious over the fact that she was still wearing her nightgown if not for the turmoil she was still in. Better to die of a heart attack in a nightgown than an uncomfortable dress, right?
"Hermione, darling?" Narcissa asked as she peeked around the door.
"In here, Narcissa," Hermione replied, sitting down on the L-shaped leather couch in the open living room attached to her office. Stella was humming while making her bed and cleaning up the small mess on her dresser, drawing a small smile from the blonde Malfoy woman.
"Oh! What's happened?" the woman asked, holding a hand to her chest. Hermione blushed in shame.
"I'm… a little out of sorts and don't know who else I can trust."
Narcissa sat down right next to Hermione immediately, running well-manicured nails through the girl's curls.
"That's what I'm here for, dear. I've often told Lucius that my skills of discretion were put to waste with raising Draco. Tell me what's going on."
"I may have engaged in relations with my boss last night," Hermione rushed out.
"Repeat that."
"I… kissed Tom last night."
Narcissa's eyes lit up. "Hermione, tell me more!"
"Maybe you can fill in the missing pieces, but I woke up in the middle of the night to noises from downstairs. I went down to investigate what was going on and got into a tiff with Tom that led to kissing. And now, I have to wait until Monday to know if we've made a massive mistake or not," the girl groaned, hiding her face in her hands as she contemplated the possibilities. Rejection. Termination. Lifelong embarrassment. She had no idea what was the worst option.
"None of that, I'll hold a dinner tonight in celebration of… mine and Lucius' 19-year anniversary! It's next Tuesday."
"Is that a thing?"
Narcissa laughed, "It is tonight. Now, let's fetch Pansy. We have some shopping to do."
"You're a lifesaver," Hermione breathed, pulling the woman in for a tight embrace.
"As I said, dear, my skills were put to waste with a son."
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"Hermione," Tom greeted as she walked by the Floo foyer in a perfectly timed move by Narcissa. The woman schemed more than her son. "You look lovely."
The girl smiled shyly, tamping down a full-body shiver at the way the man was looking up and down her body. Pansy and Narcissa had commandeered an emergency portkey to Paris, claiming that it was indeed an emergency. Not that Abraxas asked when signing for it, of course. He'd learned years ago that it was better not to ask the women in his life questions.
The dark green dress she was wearing hugged her hips before flaring out to her knees and held tightly to her breasts. She looked good enough to eat, if Pansy's observations were to be trusted.
"Thank you, Tom," the girl replied, standing still as the man stepped into her space.
"I've been thinking about you all day," the tall man admitted as he ran a long finger down Hermione's perfectly made up cheek. "We'll have a drink after dinner in your sitting room."
"Yes," Hermione breathed. "That sounds good."
The girl jumped backwards as the Floo sounded and none other than Severus Snape skulked out, black robes swishing behind him. Tom grit his jaw tightly, clearly annoyed by the interruption. Hermione soaked it in like a sponge.
"Professor! Lovely to see you," Hermione greeted politely. The man had loathed her for most of her Hogwarts career, joining most of the student body in their annoyance at her eagerness to succeed. They'd come to a tentative truce her sixth year when she'd offered up her potions skills to free him of his brewing for the hospital wing. It was only then that he let up on her, instead offering caustic advice to keep her mouth shut if she ever wanted to be hired. She was grateful for his own brand of caring.
"Miss Granger, Tom. Grateful we can all come together to celebrate such a landmark occasion," the man drawled with a sigh.
"You know I enjoy the opportunity to sit for a three hour dinner as much as you do, Severus. Why don't we head downstairs to start the clock," Tom replied with a tight smile, offering his arm to the small woman beside him.
Upon their arrival to the dining room, Narcissa quickly moved to greet Severus, a delighted smile on her face. She always counted it as a win when she got the hermit out of his lab.
"Ah, Severus! We're so glad you could find time in your schedule. I apologize for the last minute invitation, Lucius has to travel next weekend," Narcissa replied, knowing her husband wouldn't question her excuse for the last-minute dinner.
"I wouldn't miss the opportunity to celebrate this glorious anniversary for the world," Severus replied with a fond scowl, accepting Narcissa's hug and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.
"Professor Snape is right, what a glorious anniversary! As many as two ancient cultures believe 19 to be the most powerful number," Luna offered, accepting the sweet smile Draco offered.
"Then let's begin our celebration," Abraxas commanded as Tom pulled out Hermione's chair before sitting to her left, directly next to the Malfoy patriarch from where he was at the head of the table. His stomach had been growling for thirty minutes, and he knew he'd have to suffer through the meager food provided during the first few courses before substantive options were provided. He often dreamt of a life where he was living in smalltown America, eating at all-you-can-eat buffets as often as he pleased. Perhaps one day.
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"Do you… want a drink? Perhaps some tea? Or whiskey… or gin?" Hermione asked nervously, wondering how the hell Tom felt comfortable enough relaxing on her couch like it was his own as she paced the room.
"Sit. Now." Tom replied in a commanding tone. Hermione moved to sit in the lone armchair before the man patted a hand against his very expensive trousers.
"Hi," Hermione breathed as she instead sat on the man's lap, the only lap she'd ever sat on, if she were being honest.
"Calm yourself. If I was the type to get nervous, you'd have me extremely so." Tom replied, pulling Hermione closer to him.
"I am at a loss here, Tom," Hermione admitted, more vulnerable than she wanted to be. "This is out of my wheelhouse."
"I don't think anyone's fully comfortable with this," Tom replied, pressing a kiss to Hermione's neck. "As I said last night, I need you to just trust me."
"That'll require some more information than what I have. What is going on Tom? Are you trying to take out Shacklebolt?"
The man sighed like he was aggrieved to have to even explain himself. It had Hermione on edge.
"There are those inside the ministry, including myself, that are unimpressed with the reign of the light families. They've disregarded our traditions in favor of skating by and spending money on lavish, unnecessary expenditures like a goblin steel statue in the ministry foyer and new mattresses at Hogwarts. We're no longer seen as a driving force in any international conversations. We're weak. We're greedy. The great consensus is that change is needed to restore our government to its rightful place and better the lives of all people."
"Am I right to assume that you're leading this… resistance?"
"Yes," Tom purred, pressing another kiss to her neck. "I can think of no one more worthy to lead the charge at my side."
"What's that even mean?" Hermione breathed, anxiety and arousal filling her in one fell swoop.
"Every movement requires a leader. It also requires the figure head's better, softer half."
"Me? No one wanted me to work for them, Tom. No one's going to look at me as some… vision of virtue and charismatic leadership," Hermione laughed, shaking her head.
"On the contrary, my darling. You embody everything that average people value - you're hardworking, kind, virtuous and beautiful. Envying you will be easy."
"You make it sound like I'm the next Jackie O," Hermione replied with a snort and shake of her head.
"When these people have had ugly, wrinkled old hens as their first lady? You are Jackie O, Hermione."
"You're the only man who can keep up with me. That must count for something, despite the fact that I think you may be completely bonkers."
Tom smiled predatorily, "I know what I want and it's mine for the taking. If that makes me mad, then so be it."
Hermione sighed, shaking her head before laying it in the crook of Tom's neck. She couldn't help but wonder if his legs were going numb with her weight. She kept her query to herself, though, not willing to separate from the man for even a moment.
"What about my job? People will talk, Tom. It's… improper."
The man smiled widely.
"I have a plan for that."
"Which is?"
"Better left a surprise, unfortunately. I'll need your… emotions raw in the moment."
The girl scoffed. "Am I just a pawn to you, Tom?"
"No, my sweet. You're my queen."
The kiss he gave her next had her believing him against every bit of commonsense screaming at her to run far, far away from the man with ice cold eyes that only ever melted in her presence.
Leave me a comment, any comment! They're fuel that keep me heading toward the finish line. We have 4-6 chapters of this fic left. Up next on the Tomione front is looking to be a present-day American muggle mafia fic. Say that 5 times fast.
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