A/N: I say it every week, but this fic would be nothing without the lovely RachaelLA26! If you liked this (or hated it) please let me know about it in a review! I make a new mood board for each chapter of this story, find them on my Tumblr crochetawayhpff, my facebook Shan Crochetaway, or on the AO3 or Wattpad versions.

Chapter 9: Magic

October 2002

Hermione's Flat

Diagon Alley, London, England

After spending the day with Theo and Draco, Tom walked into Hermione's flat to find her already there. It was at least two hours before she normally came home from work. He'd taken to spending his working days with Theo and Draco, bringing more members into the fold slowly, and spending weekends with Hermione. Usually in bed.

"Hey." Tom leaned against the doorway into the lounge to see Hermione kneeling on the floor in front of the coffee table. She had half a dozen books spread out and several rolls of parchment. She was furiously taking notes, the end of her quill bobbing quickly as her hand flowed across the page.

"Hey," she said back distractedly.

Tom frowned and walked closer, trying to determine what exactly she was researching so furiously. He almost laughed when he realized it was the books on sex magic. He knew she was interested, but he hadn't realized how interested she was.

"Found anything?" he asked.

"A few actually that I think will work. I'm running the Arithmantic probabilities now. One of the rituals had to be translated from Ancient Runes and I'd love a double-check on my work." She finally looked up at him and offered him a small grin. Her hair was in a fuzzy halo around her head, and she was wearing an old jumper that was much too big for her, one of the shoulders was slipped down her arm, showing the strap of her bra. Tom felt his trousers constrict at the sight of her. She looked utterly beguiling with her ink-stained fingers and her happy smile.

"Sure, I was alright at Runes," Tom muttered and settled onto the floor next to her. He was somewhat surprised that the floor was more comfortable than it should have been. She must have cast a cushioning charm.

Hermione handed a spare piece of parchment to him and another quill, before going back to her equations.

Tom checked her translations and wasn't surprised to see that they were perfect. He sat back and watched her work for a moment.

"What?" she asked finally, still not looking up from her parchment.

"Nothing," Tom smirked.

She must have heard something in his voice because she looked up at him and then flushed.

"You look good." Tom shrugged.

Hermione snorted and shook her head like she didn't believe him.

"No, really," Tom said as he leaned forward and cupped her cheek, not allowing her to turn away from him. "You look delicious, sitting here, surrounded by books and working through a problem. I like a witch with a brain."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "You do know they call me 'the brightest witch of her age' right?"

"I do, and I knew you were brilliant. But seeing it is a different thing," Tom whispered as he closed the distance between them and kissed her lips. He was ready to take her then and there, but after a moment, she pulled away and began focussing on her parchment once more.

"What Arithmantic probabilities are you running?" Tom asked after a moment. Did she not think the spells would work? He thought the last ritual had proven to her that they would. They'd both felt the power boost in their magic for days afterward. They hadn't gotten around to trying any other ritual though.

"I want to see how much power can be eked out of each spell. What variables can either increase or decrease the amount of power? Nimue, it'd be fantastic to run a whole experiment on them, but I suppose that would be difficult to pull off. I guess we'll have to live with our own experimenting. Maybe I can convince someone else to try them…" she trailed off looking deep in thought for a moment, before bending down over the parchment once more.

"We're not telling anyone else," Tom murmured. "Sex magic is still considered dark magic in many circles. Even if you and I have seen how it's merely powerful magic."

Hermione hummed and nodded absently.

"Why are you home, anyway?" Tom asked. "You usually aren't home until six or later."

"My boss sent me home before lunch after I spilled a pot of tea on his desk," Hermione commented lightly.

"You spilled tea on his desk? An entire pot?"

"He grabbed my arse, so I poured it over every document I could find."

Tom snorted and kissed Hermione's temple. She was a little firebrand, he'd give her that. "Your translations are perfect, of course," he said as he stood and moved to the kitchen to start on dinner.

October 2002

Ministry of Magic

London, England

Hermione frowned when an owl swooped through her office. Owls generally meant outside communication, and for the most part, arrived only in the morning. It was almost lunchtime now, it must be an emergency for one to be let through at this time of day. Generally, the mail room intercepted and routed outside communication after the morning mail rush. She turned back to the document her boss had her copying out, by hand, of course.

"Magical copying is so blasé, isn't it, Granger?" he'd snarked as he dropped the six-foot-long scroll on her desk. She was using her wand as much as she could, but currently, her boss was in the office, with the door open and had a straight view to her desk. She sharpened her quill and dipped it into the inkwell once more when the owl landed on her desk.

"Is that for me, Granger?" Mr Quigly asked. She retrieved the scroll from the owl and read the outside. It was in Tom's handwriting.

"No, it's for me," she replied. It didn't stop Quigly from leering over her shoulder to get a look at the communication.

"Well, I do need that scroll copied by the end of the day," Quigly stated when Hermione began unrolling the missive from the owl.

She rolled her eyes and nodded. Quigly definitely did not need the scroll by the end of the day. But he did enjoy being an absolute prat to her.

"Excuse me, Mr Quigly. I'm going to take my lunch a little early." She stood and gathered her things. Tom's note just said to meet him in Diagon Alley. Tom never contacted her while she was at work, so she wondered what was going on. Was he in some sort of trouble? Fuck, she groaned, at least it wasn't Auror's banging down her cubicle asking her to go with them. Perhaps he'd just run out of some of the galleons she'd been leaving out for him. She hastened through the Ministry to the Apparition point in the atrium.

When she arrived outside the Leaky Cauldron, she didn't see Tom anywhere. He hadn't mentioned where in Diagon Alley he would be, so Hermione kept her eyes peeled as she began making her way through the Alley toward Gringotts at the opposite end. She finally found Tom standing on the steps of Gringotts waiting for her.

"There you are. A little more specificity would be nice," Hermione commented as Tom held out his hand for her to grasp. He guided her up the steps and to the door of the bank. "What's going on?"

"I have a surprise," Tom murmured with a small smirk. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but allowed him to lead her into the bank.

Immediately, they were greeted by a goblin. "Miss Granger, please follow me."

Hermione shared a look with Tom, the goblins were never that polite to anyone. Let alone her. Tom's smirk deepened and he gestured for her to follow the goblin. The goblin led them to a small office in the back.

"Now, Miss Granger. All seems to be in order. Please accept my apologies for the mix-up, had we'd known who you were, of course, it wouldn't have happened." The goblin shook his head like he was truly lamenting something.

"What mix-up?" Hermione asked. "Who am I supposed to be?"

"Why the Gaunt heir, of course! The Gaunts were an impoverished family, to be sure, but they still held a vault at Gringotts. There are a few familial items of note in it, although, nothing worth too much money."

"The what?" Hermione snapped. She whipped her head around to glare at Tom who just smirked and shrugged.

"The Gaunt heir! Mr Evans here explained it all to us. Your family documents are all in order, all we need is to give you the key. Would you like to see the vault?"

"I can't accept this," Hermione shook her head and moved to stand. Tom frowned at her and pulled her aside.

"You have to accept this. It's the only way to get you an account," Tom hissed.

Hermione glared at him. "I'm not going to lie to the goblins! Do you have any idea how vindictive they are?"

"It's not a lie if it's true. I'm the Gaunt heir, I named you my heir. Ergo, you are the Gaunt heir."

"Why don't you just accept the vault then?" Hermione asked.

"Because it doesn't get you a vault at Gringotts. Aren't you sick of being treated like a second-class citizen, Hermione? You deserve to have the full rights of every other witch and wizard in this country."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. Tom wasn't wrong; she was heartily sick of cashing her cheque every two weeks and the horrible exchange rate the goblins gave her for pounds. She wasn't making nearly enough money to be gouged as horribly as she was.

"Fine," she whispered.

"Good girl," Tom breathed, kissing her lightly on the temple, before leading her back to the chair. The smirk on his face told Hermione that he thought he had won. Hermione agreed with him. She could have walked out of the bank. Could have left him here, but she didn't. Because Tom was right. She was sick of being treated as a second-class citizen.

"Alright then?" the goblin asked.

"Of course," Tom assured the goblin.

"Excellent. Well, Miss Granger here is your key. Would you like to go inspect your vault now?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm afraid I must be getting back to work." She accepted the key from the goblin, and Tom's arm as he led her out of the bank.

"You need a more influential job," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Hermione pulled away from him with a glare.

"Excuse me?" she snapped

"You need a more influential job," Tom repeated himself. "The one you have is going nowhere. And if you can't get one at the Ministry you should just quit."

"And do what? How do you think I afford the flat, Tom? I'm not loaded like your 'followers'. I have to work for a living. Maybe you should get a job," Hermione fumed. She tried to pull away from him, but he dragged her down a little-used alley to the side of Gringotts. The grip on her arm was firm, despite Hermione's struggles to free herself.

"Don't be angry because I'm telling you the truth," Tom said.

Hermione glared at him and tried to push past him again. She couldn't deal with this today. She'd had an absolutely awful day; Quigly was truly trying to kill her with tedium, she was sure of it. The last thing she needed to hear was that she needed a new job. From the time-traveling freeloader currently living in her flat. She knew she needed a new job. The problem was, she'd put in for a handful of transfers over the last year and each and every one of them had been denied. She wasn't going to be getting a new job. At least, not at the Ministry of Magic.

"Just think about it," Tom breathed as he pressed her body into the wall behind her. A flick of his hand and Hermione felt the tell-tale whistle of a Notice-Me-Not charm go up around them.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Gathering my reward for getting you a vault at Gringotts," Tom said as he began kissing along her jaw. His fingers made quick work of her cloak and outer robes.

"Tom," she snapped, trying to push him away again.

"Don't make me tie you up," he whispered into her ear. "I put up a Notice-Me-Not, not a silencing charm. You'll have to be quiet."

Hermione though her knees might give out. Liquid fire ran through her veins and Tom had his hand under her skirt and a finger inside her slick channel faster than she could have imagined. He pushed her knickers to the side, and Hermione fumbled with his belt, trying desperately to pull out his cock. How was it she was always so ready for him? So wet for him from just a few kisses and touches.

It was insanity, to fuck against a wall in Diagon Alley, and yet, Hermione couldn't help but be turned on by it all. The thrill of maybe getting caught. Of someone watching them. It sang through her body and the moment Tom's cock was free, she wrapped both legs around his hips.

Tom hissed as she slowly sank down on his length and Hermione tossed her head back, biting her lip to keep her moan from escaping. How did this still feel so fucking good? They'd been at it like rabbits for two months and still, she couldn't get enough of him. Tom started rocking into her at a slow steady pace.

"Please, Tom," she whispered, trying to urge him on faster. She needed it faster.

"Mmm, not the words I'm looking for, love," Tom hissed into her skin as he planted soft, wet kisses along her clavicle.

"What exactly are you looking for then?" Hermione panted. She didn't quite have the mental capacity to think when he was doing that delicious thing he did with his thumb at her clit.

"Thank you," Tom replied. "Thank you, Tom, for getting me a vault at Gringotts."

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. Tom gave a particularly hard thrust and she moaned. She wanted more of those hard thrusts.

"Thank you, Tom," she said huskily. She bit her lip as he increased his pace, just a little. "Thank you for gifting me your vault at Gringotts."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Tom asked as he finally began pistoning his hips, hitting every spot inside her that made her see stars. His thumb never ceased its assault on her clit and it wasn't long before Hermione found herself hurtling over the edge of her climax.

"Tom!" she choked out. He pressed his lips to her to keep her quiet before he too found his release.

Hermione clung to him for a moment, regaining her breath and her equilibrium.

"See you at home," Tom murmured as they both straightened their clothes. Then he began strolling off down the Alley. Hermione sighed as she watched him go, her stomach in knots about what had just occurred. Not just the sex, but him solving her problems for her. She was a big girl, she didn't need him. She couldn't allow him to take care of her like that. She couldn't let him win either. It was an incredibly slippery slope. He was Voldemort after all and she couldn't allow herself to separate them in her mind, regardless of how much she wanted to.

October 2002

Hermione's Flat

Diagon Alley, London, England

Hermione was nose deep in yet another book on sex magic. This one from the ancient Greeks. It had many of the same spells and rituals as the Druidic book had, but the ancient Greeks were apparently prone to dabbling in blood magic. Frankly, blood magic squicked Hermione out quite a bit and she wasn't sure she would be comfortable performing it.

"What are you reading?" Tom asked as he poured her a glass of wine.

Hermione held up her book for him but continued the passage. The blood used was in small amounts, and was personal, it wasn't like they had to get the blood off of a stranger, but still. There was something about blood that just made everything seem icky. And unclean.

"What do you think of blood magic?" Hermione asked, looking up at him.

She reached for the glass of wine he was holding for her and took a sip while he thought over her question. His deep blue eyes roamed her face for a long moment while he considered his answer.

"I think it can fall into the same category as sex magic," Tom finally said.

Hermione lifted her brow and replied, "You mean that you don't think it's automatically Dark Magic?"

"Well, I don't really think that there is Dark Magic," Tom said pursing his lips. "Magic is just power. And power doesn't have the capacity to be light or Dark."

"Seriously?" Hermione snorted. "What about the Unforgivables? Aren't they all Dark Magic? Mind control over someone else seems pretty fucking dark to me. As does torture. Let's not even talk about the murder one."

"Well even some curses are created for reasons of good and twisted for ill purposes," Tom said. "The Entrail-Expelling Curse is one. Created by a Healer to expel a blockage from one's entrails, and yet, with a slight twist and flick of your want in the right spot, it will expel one's entrails from their body."

Hermione sighed. "I understand that. I know that all spells can be used for good or ill, but seriously. What good ever came of the Imperius Curse? Or the Cruciatus?"

"Didn't you just tell me the other day you yourself used the Imperius Curse on a goblin during the last war?" Tom asked.

"Technically, that wasn't me," Hermione mumbled. She couldn't fault him for that. Had Harry not Imperiused that goblin, they likely wouldn't have been able to retrieve Hufflepuff's cup at all. It had saved them at the time. "Getting back to blood magic. I'm not really into blood play in the bedroom, but a lot of these rituals and ceremonies call for some sort of blood sacrifice from the participants."

"I'm also not into blood play," Tom replied. "But I think a small sacrifice prior to the start of any sexual activity wouldn't totally put me off."

"Honestly, the idea of involving blood at all in any form sort of makes me feel a little ill," Hermione admitted. Tom smirked at her and Hermione rolled her eyes in response. "Although, I guess if it's only our blood it isn't the worst thing in the world."

"There's the spirit."

Hermione rolled her eyes again and looked back to the book she had been reading. The involvement of blood in the rituals also seemed to lead to a tighter bond. Adding a blood sacrifice to the next time they tried sex magic might be a good way to tie Tom to her on a more permanent basis. That thought both terrified and exhilarated her.

November 2002

Nott Park

Bedfordshire, England

It had taken every one of the three months since Tom had sought out Theo to finally have the meeting they were holding today. There were twenty-five young pure-blood heirs and heiresses in attendance at Nott Park. Each invitation meticulously handed out by Draco and Theo to finally meet Tom. He'd been keeping a rather low profile for several reasons. Getting the lay of the land was important. As was learning the ways wizarding society and culture worked these days. He was unsurprised to hear that it hadn't changed all that much. Sure, Muggleborns were slightly more elevated in position than fifty years ago, but not that much. The Ministry and Wizengamot were very much still run by old wizarding families headed by old men. A few witches had seats in the Wizengamot, but not many.

Tom wanted to change that. The same system he had been so desperate to be a part of and to worm his way into fifty odd years ago, he now wanted to tear down from the inside. Then he'd been an outside influence and garnering power by terrifying his followers. From everything he'd heard from Theo and Draco, it didn't go that well. Yes, people were terrified of him, but he never really got a seat of power. Even during the war, he was still always fighting with his followers. It led to a darkness that Tom knew Hermione wouldn't tolerate.

He also knew that the younger generation of witches and wizards were sick of war and fighting, he almost couldn't believe that a battle had been fought at Hogwarts. To fight a battle at such a sacred place in the wizarding world seemed entirely too blasphemous for Tom. He was getting a second chance and he was determined to make the most of it. That meant a subtler approach. A more Slytherin approach. And if there was anything that Tom was, it was a Slytherin.

The first part of the meeting was just drinks and introductions. Theo and Draco introduced him to various witches and wizards. It was interesting to see the features and names of some of Tom's contemporaries in these people.

"And what exactly is your master plan?" Pansy Parkinson asked him with an arched eyebrow. It was a bit of an open secret that he was the Dark Lord come back, but other than Draco and Theo, he hadn't cultivated much of the 'lord' part of his persona. He wanted to be their leader, but he didn't need their subservience.

"I want to close the gap between the Muggle and wizarding worlds. I want to approach Muggleborns much earlier in their lives than eleven. I want to offer Muggleborn families more support than the Ministry Obliviation squad. I don't want any magical child growing up as I did, or even as Harry Potter did."

"You want to offer support to Mudbloods?" Cassius Warrington asked incredulously. "They are what's bringing our society down in the first place! Their filthy blood dirtying up our family lines!"

Tom narrowed his eyes at Warrington. Theo had warned him that the Warrington and Flint cadre was a volatile bunch.

"Really, Cassius." Pansy rolled her eyes. "Mudblood is such an uncouth word. Nor is it politically correct. How you ever were sorted into Slytherin, I have no idea."

Tom was pleased to hear that there were at least some people who had brains and knew which way the political winds were shifting.

"Miss Parkinson is correct, Mr Warrington," Tom said. He was flattering them with titles, but he knew it would get him places.

"Pansy, please Mr Evans," Pansy smirked at him.

"Then you must call me Tom, Pansy." Tom returned her smile before turning his attention back to Warrington. "I'm sure Theo and Draco have clued you in on exactly who I am?"

Warrington nodded, suddenly looking wary.

"Good," Tom grinned. "I am not the same person who caused the last two wars though. Nor do I want another war now. I almost can't believe I took such an un-Slytherin approach twice before. This time I want to be much more insidious. And that means garnering support for the Muggleborns and half-bloods in our society. They by far outnumber the pure-bloods. I'm a half-blood, after all. And if you discount the Muggleborns, how do you account for a witch such as Hermione Granger? Top of her class, brightest witch of her age? She's a Muggleborn."

"Pfft, and what's Granger done since she's graduated?" Warrington asked.

"Hermione is the whole reason I am here," Tom reminded him. "Also, she is probably the only person not afraid to stand up to me and who could beat me in a duel."

Warrington snorted again, "I'm obviously not afraid of you—"

"I was hoping you'd say that," Tom smirked. "I propose a challenge then. Let's duel, you and I Warrington. You can't cast anything you can't heal. If I lose, you can become the leader of this little group. If you lose, you give me the contents of the Warrington heir vault at Gringotts."

There were a few gasps and titters amongst the crowd who had gathered by that point. But this was all planned out in advance by Tom, Theo, and Draco. They had known Warrington was a hothead and that Tom's plan needed a cash influx. Theo and Draco were always willing to give, but a permanent cash influx caused by taking over the fortune of one of the richest families in the country would be indispensable. It would also serve to remind the rest that Tom was the best. That Tom couldn't be beaten and that trying to do so would be to one's detriment.

"The whole vault?" Warrington asked.

"Yes," Tom said simply. "As it stands now. It has three or four million galleons in it?"

Warrington turned red and gritted his teeth, "Yes. How do you—"

"I have my sources," Tom smiled.

"Fine," Warrington snapped.

"Let's do it now. You have a dueling arena, right Theo?" Tom asked, turning back to his friend.

Theo smiled. "Of course, my lord. Let us all retire there."

The duel between Tom and Warrington would be considered the beginning shots for Tom and his group's campaign to change the wizarding world forever. Like any other beginning to a fable people would later describe it in greater detail and with more exaggeration than it deserved. The reality of the thing was short. Only twenty minutes or so for Tom to disarm Warrington and then cause a great enough injury that Warrington could not continue the duel.

In the immediate aftermath, once Tom had healed Warrington, Warrington and Tom left directly for Gringotts to transfer the funds. Another part of Tom's plan to not allow Warrington to cheat him even one bronze knut.

As they exited Gringotts, Tom clapped Warrington on the back. "Thanks. You'll be the first in a long line of donors to this cause."

Warrington snarled at Tom and wrench himself away in Apparition. Tom smirked, knowing he would be back and returned to the gathering at Nott Park.

November 2002

Nott Park

Bedfordshire, England

A week after the fateful gathering, Tom, Theo, and Draco were discussing next steps in the plan. Theo was his first target.

"You must assume the Nott seat on the Wizengamot," Tom said.

Theo groaned, "Why? I hate all that shite. I'd rather lounge around my manor and plot world domination with you."

"I'm aware," Tom smirked, "but soon I too hope to be on the Wizengamot, in which case we'll have to continue plotting our world domination at the Ministry and not Nott Park."

"Fine," Theo whined.

"Lucky," Draco muttered.

"Would you like the Malfoy seat?" Tom asked.

"As if my father would give it up," Draco rolled his eyes.

"No, probably not right away, but eventually I want everyone on the Wizengamot to be younger than the age of sixty. And if you can't take the Malfoy seat, maybe you can take another. Who was your mother?"

"Narcissa Black."

"And there's currently no Black heir?"

"The Black family is extinct, although technically Potter is the Black heir," Draco said.

"Potter? I thought his mother was a Muggleborn?"

"She was," Theo said. "But his godfather was Sirius Black, who made Potter the heir."

"But you're the blood heir…" Tom trailed off as he considered the implication of stealing the Wizengamot seat out from under Potter. "Potter has a seat, yes?"

"He does, although it too is empty," Draco said.

"Alright, well the first order of business once we get as many of the empty seats as we can filled, is to start electioning off seats that have been empty for too long," Tom said. "I'm going to attempt to assume the Gaunt seat if it's still available, but if not, then I'll campaign for one of the seats that currently sits empty."

Theo and Draco both nodded along with his plan and the three of them began detailing who currently sat on the Wizengamot and who could possibly take their place. Quite a few of the witches and wizards who had been at the gathering either had unfulfilled seats on the Wizengamot that they could easily slide into or relatives that might be coaxed into retiring their seat.

"Now that our plan is in place, we need to ramp our campaign efforts. Theo, you'll have to start hosting parties, inviting the most influential members of both the Ministry and the Wizengamot. The best way to learn the lay of the land is to get to know the players. Perhaps we'll discover a few weaknesses along the way," Tom grinned.

November 2002

Hermione Flat

Diagon Alley, London, England

"Are you sure that's the one you want to try?" Tom asked as he read over Hermione's shoulder. She had pointed to a ritual that involved blood. Tom was surprised by that, but it was only a little blood. Mostly it involved the element of fire. They wouldn't be able to perform this one in Hermione's flat.

Tom felt Hermione tense and he placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to relax her.

"Yes, I'm sure," Hermione said.

"We'll need to do it out of doors, and it looks like standing stones are traditional…"

"Doesn't one of your 'followers' have standing stones on one of their properties?" Hermione asked snottily. She hated that Tom still considered people like Theo and Draco followers. Not out of some sort of respect for either Theo and Draco, though, but because it made him seem like a Dark Lord. And that was something she'd been quite clear on being unable to abide. Tom mostly did it to irk her these days. She did flush so prettily when annoyed.

"Mmm, I know there is a set on Malfoy lands, but I'm guessing Lucius won't allow us access. I'll have to ask Theo."

"Fine," Hermione nodded.

Tom smirked and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, then left the room to owl Theo.

November 2002

Nott Park

Bedfordshire, England

Tom watched as Theo walked back toward Nott Park after he'd led Tom and Hermione out to the standing stones. They were small and half wore down with age, but the altar was still serviceable.

"You have everything you need?" Tom asked absentmindedly. He wanted to make sure Theo was gone for sure before casting a few privacy wards. Hermione was his and this was a very private ceremony.

"Yep," Hermione smiled and began pulling more things then could logically fit out of a small beaded bag.

Tom watched her for a moment, enjoying how the dying evening light made her skin glow. He couldn't imagine that he'd ever found her plain.

Turning back to the standing stones, Tom walked a perimeter around them casting a variety of privacy wards, including silencing and vision-obscuring. Someone could be standing just on the other side of the wards and they would have no idea what was taking place.

Hermione had laid out a ring of oak logs for burning. The oak symbolized power, which was not only necessary for the ritual but if the ritual was done correctly would enhance the power Tom and Hermione would have afterward. The ceremony Hermione had chosen should increase personal magical stores for up to a week, as well as increase the longevity of their lives.

Other than the symbolism of the wood and the small blood sacrifice, there wasn't much else to this ritual. Other than the sex on the altar of course.

Finished with the ring of oak, Hermione lit it and soon the clearing in the standing stones became warm with the heat of the fire. Tom and Hermione stood on opposite sides of the altar and with a small silver blade, they each made a cut in their left hands and put a few drops of blood in the ceramic bowl Hermione had brought along.

"To Freya, goddess of love and sexuality, I offer you my life-blood in hopes that you will bless me and this ritual with your presence," Hermione intoned.

"To Freyr, god of phallic sexuality, I offer you my life-blood in hopes that you will bless me and this ritual with your presence," Tom said.

They set the bowl to the top of the altar and both took off their robes. They were naked underneath, ready for the ritual. Tom laid Hermione down atop her robe on the altar and began worshipping her body. He dropped soft kisses on her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her lips. Hermione ran her hands along Tom's shoulders, smoothing his skin and pulling him further on top of her. Tom began leaving soft wet kisses down the side of Hermione's neck while running a hand between her breasts.

He cupped one and then the other, thumbing both nipples, and using his other hand to hold him up above her.

"Tom," Hermione moaned, bucking her body into his, searching for that sweet friction.

Tom finally made his way down to her breasts and licked a circle around one nipple before drawing it into his mouth and sucking.

"Tom!" Hermione shouted, grasping his head tightly to her chest as her hips jumped wildly. Tom could feel it too, there was something, not quite a presence, but something amping their feelings, making it all feel more real, more alive.

"Hermione," he groaned into her skin as she gripped him tightly. She tugged at his hair, trying to pull him up and he obeyed. He was desperate to be inside her hot, tight, sweet warmth.

The moment he settled into the vee of her thighs, Hermione wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and Tom felt his cock slide through her wet folds. It was intoxicating.

"Please," Hermione begged, "please Tom. I need you."

Tom growled and with a twist of his hips, pushed himself inside her. She was impossibly warm, impossibly wet, impossibly tight and it was everything Tom could do not to come right then and there. But just as the last ritual they had to come together, this one too, they had to reach their end at the same time. He loved giving Hermione orgasms, more than one usually, but sex magic didn't work like that.

He felt a strange pressure on his lower back, urging him to move and so he did. As he moved, the pressure eased, but the feeling of being inside Hermione was almost more than he could bear. It had never felt like this before. Not in all the months they'd been doing this. It almost felt too good. Tom wasn't sure how long he would last as he slowly built a rhythm.

Hermione was writhing on the altar below him. Her head tossed back in ecstasy and Tom began driving harder and faster into her. He was desperate to come.

"Hermione," he panted, and slipped a hand between him, finding her engorged clit and circling it with his thumb.

"So fucking close," Hermione gasped. "I'm almost—" she broke off in a scream and Tom felt the tell-tale flutter of her walls around him and he too let go, following her off the precipice and into the pleasure that awaited them both.

A wave of magic expanded out of them and slammed back into their bodies, igniting every nerve ending they had. Tom half-collapsed on top of Hermione, panting and trying to catch his breath.

"Holy…" Hermione trailed off as if she couldn't muster up the energy to finish that statement.

"Yeah," Tom replied in agreement.

They both groaned when they could finally make out Theo shouting from outside the wards. Tom concentrated and waved his hand, canceling the wards.

"What the bloody fuck was that?" Theo shouted from the other side of the fire-ring.

Hermione snorted and hid her face in Tom's shoulder. Tom smirked and turned to his friend, just barely visible through the flames. "Sex magic."

"I need to find someone to experiment with some of that," Theo muttered as he began putting out the fire.

Tom smiled and slowly rose off the altar, helping Hermione back into her robe before putting his own on again.

"The blood's gone," Hermione commented, looking into the ceramic bowl.

"Then we did it right," Tom said with a grin. Hermione grinned back and leaned up to kiss him. He shouldn't have been able to cancel the wards he'd set earlier wandlessly; which proved he was already much more powerful than he had been before the ritual. He couldn't wait to see what else he could do with this power boost.