A/N: Thank you all for your reviews and feedback, and thank you to the guest reviewers. Even though I can't respond to you individually (or at least I don't know how to), I appreciate you taking the time! Hope you enjoy this chapter.
Avery was saying something, but Tom diligently ignored him, nodding occasionally but not bothering to hide his impatience as Avery rummaged through his disorganized wardrobe.
"Here—no, hold on." Tom rolled his eyes, making a show of tapping his shoe on the cold floor of the dormitory. "Okay, here it is." Avery pulled out a large pouch emblazoned with his family crest. After rummaging through, Avery pulled out a generous handful of galleons and handed them over to Tom without counting.
"This will do," Tom replied with a slight sneer. The first time he had borrowed money from his followers, he asked Malfoy for money that he needed to complete certain activities over the summer. Malfoy gave him the requisite amount without question, naturally, but never so flippantly as Avery.
"Glad to be of service, my Lord," Avery said, turning to him for a moment before continuing to dig through his wardrobe, apparently looking for something else. Tom opened his mouth in goodbye, but changed his mind and left Avery half-buried in clothes and spellbooks. Just looking at the clutter gave Tom anxiety; he was glad to be rid of shared accommodations.
As he descended the stairway from his followers' dormitory, he caught a shock of long blond hair as the person it belonged to hurried out of the common room. Black. Although Tom wasn't planning on confronting the irritating witch today, it seemed wasteful to let the opportunity slide by. He cast a silencing charm on his shoes before leaving the dormitory, and picked up his pace as he followed the reverberating of echoed footsteps. Tom pulled out his wand, gripping it tightly. It had been too long since he had had a good chase.
"Black! Is that you?" Tom called out casually once they were about halfway between the Slytherin common room and the entrance hall. It was after hours, so they were unlikely to be interrupted. Apparently Black had come to the same conclusion, as her body shook slightly as she turned around to face him. She didn't look afraid otherwise, but came up short on looking unaffected. She overcompensated; her eyes weren't wide with fear, but they were too narrowed to match her normal demeanor. Tom could see clearly as she felt for her wand inside of her robes, trying to be discrete. Grab your wand if you want; it won't help.
"Riddle. What are you doing out at this hour?"
"I could ask you the same thing." Black chuckled nervously. "So? What are you doing out here in this hour, Black? You know it can be dangerous to walk at night by yourself."
"Couldn't sleep," she mumbled.
"It's not that late."
"Well, maybe that's why I couldn't sleep." She attempted a smile, a pathetic one that didn't reach her cheeks, let alone her eyes. "Anyway, I should get back."
"But Black, it's been ages." Tom drawled out the last word in a very Malfoy fashion.
"I suppose it has. But it's late. Let's catch up another time," Black replied abruptly, her breathing shallow.
"Now works well for me," Tom said, wordlessly and wandlessly casting the Body Bind Curse. "I would like to know why you're suddenly so terrified of Hermione and me." Tom released the Curse only on her face. It was a signature at this point; facial cues were so helpful that it seemed silly to suppress them.
"Terrified? Of Prewett?"
Tom shook his head. "Me, then?"
"I'm just… intimidated by you, Riddle. I've always had a bit of a crush, really."
Tom let out a laugh, but there was no mirth in it. "Salazar, Black, do you know think I'm a giggling schoolboy? Flattery will get you nowhere with me. I am not interested in your interest, merely your knowledge. Tell me what you know and how you know."
"I wasn't—I don't know anything, Riddle."
"Crucio." Tom cast it aloud for two reasons: so that Black could feel the anguish of anticipation and because, in his experience, it seemed to have greater effect when spoken. "I'll let you think about that, Black. I can assure you that this will not be our last meeting." With that, Tom walked away, removing Black's body bind but otherwise not looking back. He had learned last year that it was better not to leave trails behind him.
Dorea sat in the hallway just around the corner from the common room, an absolute wreck. She was not the type of person who cried easily, but sobs had wracked her body for what felt like hours. Dorea didn't have a death wish: she had seen firsthand the destruction that Riddle could cause, and she wanted to stay as far away as possible. She had tried to creep back to the common room after their confrontation, but simply could not make it all the way and face her roommate, Rosier.
She felt frozen; she might have stayed there all night had she not heard footsteps. Collecting herself, she muttered a quick spell that her mother had taught her as a girl to clean up her face and reduce the puffiness in her eyes. Luckily, the tears were no longer free-flowing. She picked herself up the floor and made out that she was walking toward the common room, away from the chatter behind her. A spell was one thing, but she would rather avoid society entirely.
"Dorea! Is that you?" It was Lestrange.
Dorea turned around slightly on her heel, intentionally holding herself stiffly. "What do you want, Lestrange? I don't have the patience for you." Dorea said it in a huffier voice than normal, but if he noticed, he didn't react. When she turned around, she noticed Abraxas was with him but didn't greet him. Abraxas was practically as bad as her mother when it came to creating waterworks, and she really didn't want to deal with him in this state.
"Will you leave us for a moment, Lestrange?" So much for that. Clearly Abraxas had noticed her emotional state, even though Lestrange remained entirely oblivious.
"Of course, mate," Lestrange responded, winking in an exaggerated fashion.
When they had the hall to themselves, Abraxas anxiously asked her what happened.
"It was… Riddle."
"Riddle?"
"He cornered me."
Abraxas's normally tan face instantly drained of color. "About what?"
"He said that he noticed I had been scared of him and Hermione. And I've been so careful—I'm so sorry."
"You're putting both of us in danger." His normally bright blue eyes were harsh, and not just because of the dark shadows cast by their dim surroundings.
"Abraxas, I've not done anything but try to help." Dorea tried to inject an indignant tone into her voice, but she secretly did feel awful about how her interaction with Tom went, knowing that she had just put Abraxas in deeper jeopardy. The alternative, though—who would take care of Abraxas at the rate things have been going for him?
"I think you've done enough, Dorea."
"Abraxas, what about things with my aunt? Did that help?"
Abraxas half-shrugged. "I got what I needed."
"So why are you getting so upset off of one mistake? I wasn't prepared—"
"Look, I broke things off for a reason, and I'm tired of you hanging around." Dorea had the distinct feeling that she had just walked into a very cold room, and felt her natural inclination to anger building up inside of her, but tried to push it away.
"Abraxas, I'm not hanging around." Despite her best efforts, the last two words came through gritted teeth and with her chin raised at least half a foot higher in the air. "I am taking care of you, and you're damn lucky because what would you do without me?"
Abraxas shook his head slowly and angrily, shrugging and walking away. Dorea stood there, waiting for him to turn around to finish their conversation, but he just kept walking. "Abraxas! I'm not going to follow you." He just walked faster, leaving her in the hallway alone. She stood there for a few minutes, shaking like a leaf, before wiping her tears away and walking back to the common room, feeling like she was fourteen years old again. Not for the first time, she wished she could access the Gryffindor boys' dorms to see Charlus. But she would just have to take care of herself.
Hermione sat in the common room, curled up with a book and her cat, serene as she had found a rare moment to do some recreational reading. It was a nice change; although she loved spending time with Tom and her friends, between them and her schoolwork Hermione rarely had a moment to herself.
As Tom walked through the portrait hole, though, Hermione was reminded how little she minded. Tom broke out into a rare smile as they made eye contact. "You seem like you're in a good mood tonight," she commented as he sat down next to her, tracing patterns on her thigh.
"It's been a good night."
"What have you been up to?"
"Just a couple of things I needed to take care of." Hermione raised her left eyebrow but didn't comment. "Sometimes it feels good to be productive."
"That's true," Hermione responded, not sure she wanted to know what Tom's version of being productive is.
"I think I'm finally done with the research project I've been working on for Professor Slughorn," Tom elaborated, nodding but looking far away.
"I didn't know you were working on a project for Professor Slughorn." Hermione felt a pang of jealousy, which was silly; Slughorn had known Tom for years, and had only just met her. Of course he wouldn't give a project to her. Regardless, she could feel the sting. Sometimes she missed being the star student of Hogwarts; it was silly, really, but she couldn't help it.
Tom dove into a description of the project he was working on; Hermione felt a slight chill run through her as she realized that he was discussing the very early phases of Veritaserum. Although she knew the final touches were not finished until three years later, it made sense that such a complex and powerful potion would take several years to perfect. And although she was unaware Tom had a hand in it, it was somehow unsurprising in retrospect. Unfortunately, it was not comforting to know that her clever boyfriend had access to early attempts at the powerful potion. Although it seemed she was safe from Legilimency, there was another path to her secrets that she hadn't even considered, foolishly feeling safe until the potion would first be officially used in 1948.
"So… what will it be used for?" Hermione asked tentatively.
"I'm not sure what you mean. The possibilities are endless." Tom extended the final word, his expression changing momentarily, as though he could taste the secrets spilling.
"Yes. But what would its purpose be? It seems dangerous."
Tom shrugged. "Discovery is dangerous, but that doesn't mean it's not worthwhile. I know you don't fault research, Hermione." He studied her for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "You're worried I'm going to use it on you."
Hermione scoffed ineffectually. "I am not. I would hope that you would respect me more than that."
Tom shook his head slightly, his gray eyes piercing in a way that made her feel simultaneously uncomfortable and aroused. "Don't worry, Hermione. I am much closer to mastering Legilimency than perfecting the potion." Comforting. Really comforting. "Besides, I wouldn't risk the unknown side effects on you." Tom was kissing her in between words, his hands slightly higher than they should have been on her thighs now. "I would much rather explore your mind myself than with a potion." His hands brushed underneath her skirt pleats. "That would be so unnecessarily impersonal. I don't want you in some trancelike state," Tom continued, wordlessly pushing her down horizontally on the couch, tracing his hand down her middle from the indentation between her collarbones and ending at her waistline of her skirt. "I want to take my time and unravel all of your secrets, one at a time."
The last four words were spoken very slowly as Tom pulled off her tights, inch by inch. Hermione felt incredibly torn between the fleeting anxiety of allowing Tom access to her secrets and the desire that was clouding those thoughts. Maybe not too torn. Tom's lips crashed into hers again, and she couldn't help but entrap him with her newly freed legs, pushing him as close to her as possible. They stayed like that for a while, forgetting the world around them in passionate kisses and a tight embrace. For the first time, they slept on the couch together, though it was much too small for one person. Hermione woke up in the middle of the night to find herself pressed to Tom's chest, Crookshanks at her feet. She nuzzled her head deeper into his chest and quickly fell back to sleep.