A/N: Many thanks to the darling RachaelLA26 for her beta work! 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 10: Accession

December 2002

Hermione's Flat

Diagon Alley, London, England

Hermione was nervous as she donned the new gown Tom had insisted on for tonight's affair. It was New Year's Eve and Tom was taking her to a gala, hosted by Theo Nott. Hermione had heard the rumor mill at the Ministry. Nott had been hosting loads of parties over the last few months. Tom had gone to them all, insisting to Hermione that she wouldn't be interested when she questioned him about it. The idea of Tom consolidating power in the pure-bloods of her generation still made her nervous, so in all truth, she was glad to not be made to attend these gatherings. She feared what would be said to and about her, the only mudblood in the room.

Scowling into the mirror, Hermione made to turn around when Tom appeared behind her.

"You look beautiful," Tom said simply as he took in her blood red dress. The dress was strapless and set off her shoulders and collarbones nicely. "I have something for you."

Tom draped a gorgeous diamond necklace around her neck. It had a large teardrop that nestled into the swell of her breasts and it sparkled in the dim light of her bedroom.

"Tom, this is—"

"Beautiful, although not as beautiful as you. You should say thank you," Tom smirked at her over her shoulder in the mirror. Hermione rolled her eyes and nodded her thanks. After the argument at Christmas over Tom's gifts, she decided to accept them with graciousness. Obviously, he was getting his money from somewhere, and the less Hermione knew about it, the less she had to worry about it. She just hoped that it was legal. Tom had assured her it was, that his political aspirations wouldn't go very far if he was involved in illegal activities. So she had to trust him, as hard as that was for her. It helped that so far he hadn't done anything untrustworthy. Nothing she knew about anyway. She sighed again and Tom wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his chin on top of her head.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Hermione wasn't sure what to say. She was afraid to admit her nervousness in front of him. He'd mocked her for being a poor Gryffindor. Yet she felt like, in order to tie him to her, she needed to be vulnerable. If she showed her vulnerability, maybe Tom would too. Maybe she could actually pull this off. This reining in of the scariest Dark wizard of her time.

"I'm nervous," Hermione said at last. "Most of these people have called me a mudblood," Tom hissed at her use of the word. She rolled her eyes and continued, "at some point in my life. I'm over the petty insults but I hate the fact that you are friends with people like that."

"I promise you, Hermione, they will not be calling you that filthy term tonight."

"Filthy? I think you yourself called me a mudblood at one point in time," Hermione reminded him.

"Not me," Tom said. "I am not him. I am not Lord Voldemort. And I won't be again."

Hermione bit her lip, still not sure. Tom turned her around in his arms and cupped her face with both of his hands. "I promise, Hermione. Nobody will say that to you. Not only that, nobody will even think of slighting you tonight. You look like a pure-blood princess yourself. You'll be the belle of the ball."

"They won't because you threatened to torture them if they did?" Hermione whispered.

"No! Because it doesn't suit the cause," Tom said fiercely. "The cause is to close the divide in the wizarding world between the pure-bloods and those raised in the Muggle world, Muggle-borns or half-bloods. Nobody should grow up like I did. Like your friend Harry did. That's the cause I believe in. We're stronger together. But the old pure-blood guard? They'll never let it happen without a fight. I'm trying to do it with a bloodless coup instead."

Hermione took a moment to process his words. In theory, she agreed with him, but even now, all these months later, the idea of agreeing with Tom's political views made her nervous. But not nervous enough to back out of going to Nott's gala tonight.

"You promise?" Hermione asked.

"Of course," Tom assured her. Hermione finally nodded one last time and allowed Tom to help her into her cloak. He squeezed her tightly to him as he Apparated them both to Nott Park.

Nott Park was lit up and decorated to the nines. Hermione was thoroughly impressed given what Tom had said of its condition when he'd first visited it months ago. The ballroom at Nott Park was crowded and it seemed like Tom knew everyone. People clamored to get his attention, which he doled out like a beatific monarch. Hermione was surprised to see how well liked he was. She knew he was charming. He'd charmed her after all, but to see it from other people was a surprise.

What wasn't a surprise was the crowd, mostly pure-bloods, and almost entirely made up of people she knew from Hogwarts. About half-way through the gala, Hermione found herself standing along the sidelines of the room. She was tired and wanted to go home, but knew that Tom wouldn't want to leave until well past midnight.

"Granger," Pansy Parkinson greeted her with a nod as she sidled up next to Hermione. Hermione felt a small stab of jealousy as she took in the dark-haired witch. Pansy had always been glamorous, more glamorous than Hermione had ever been, and dressed in her slinky, black cocktail gown, Hermione had to admit she looked better than ever.

"Pansy," Hermione nodded at her. She wondered if she was about to be on the receiving end of a slur when Pansy grinned at her.

"Well, someone seems to be holding their own this evening," Pansy said. They were silent for a moment as they took in the scene before them. Hermione could almost see the political deals making and breaking as people talked to one another.

"Mmm, I've learned a thing or two in the last few months," Hermione said, sipping her glass of champagne.

"Have you?" Pansy waved a hand and soon Millicent Bulstrode joined them. If anyone were to win a 'Most Changed Since Hogwarts' award, it would be Millicent. She'd slimmed down considerably, and Hermione almost didn't recognize her. She was dressed in a brilliantly Slytherin-green gown that hugged her frame and yet, was still demure. She looked amazing.

"Granger," Millicent greeted her. Hermione almost snorted. What was it with Slytherins and the use of last names?

"Millicent," Hermione smiled warmly at her. "How are you? You look quite beautiful this evening."

Hermione had learned a lot in the last few months. Tom wasn't the only one who could charm a crowd and Hermione knew there was a reason Pansy and Millicent were talking to her. She wanted to know what it was.

"Thank you, Hermione," Millicent smiled graciously. "My friends call me Millie."

"Millie it is then," Hermione replied.

"She'll do," Pansy said.

Millie nodded and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is that what this is all about? Coming over here to make sure I'm good enough for Tom?"

Pansy tossed her head back and laughed. "It's not that we didn't think you weren't good enough, Hermione. It's that we needed to ensure you were politically savvy enough. If not, Millie and I were to coach you."

"Oh? And who put you up to this?" Hermione asked. Her grip on her glass tightened as she thought of Tom speaking to people about her. Acid churned in her stomach. She knew what their relationship was. She knew that she was supposed to be in this to corral him. The idea that he was using her for his political gain, that that's all he wanted from her? It made her sick.

"Me," Millie said. "I don't deign to know what goes on with you and Tom and he almost never talks about you, except to say that you are a permanent fixture in his life. So I took it on myself and Pansy to help ensure that his 'permanent fixture' was going to be a boon to him politically."

Hermione pursed her lips but didn't say anything. She was practically vibrating with anger at the trap she felt like she'd been caught in.

"Hermione," Pansy said lowly and touched the small of her back. Hermione finally tore her eyes from the crowd in front of her to look at the other witch. "We just had to be sure. We aren't your enemy."

"You used to be," Hermione reminded Pansy. She looked to Millie, who at least looked slightly ashamed.

"Not anymore," Millie said emphatically. "We're on the same side. We want the same things."

Hermione laughed bitterly. Nobody was on her side. Not Harry and Ron, not Tom, and certainly not these two witches.

"Truly, we are, Hermione," Pansy said. "We want to start over, to become friends with you. I understand you haven't had many girlfriends in your life…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No need to butter me up. I'll be the political ally you need me to be. I can afford little else. And Tom isn't wrong. We're tied together in ways that I cannot explain, nor will I."

Pansy and Millie both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and Hermione finished her champagne. "If you are going to be my allies," Hermione began, she couldn't bring herself to call them friends; she didn't have friends at the moment it seemed, "then I want to know all of the gossip. As you can imagine, Tom keeps me isolated, but if I don't know what's going on, I can't help him."

"Of course," Pansy said with a nod. "Let's have tea in two days time, if that's acceptable?"

Hermione nodded and with a goodbye strode away from the pair of witches. She needed time to cool down. Then perhaps she could persuade Tom to dance with her.

Later that evening, Tom ushered Hermione home. She'd been right earlier, it was almost one in the morning before they made it home. Despite her somewhat tense encounter with Pansy and Millie, Hermione was surprised at how well the evening had gone. Tom had been right; everyone was extremely pleasant to her. And not just fake-pleasant, but actually pleasant. It surprised her because, ever since her last argument with Harry and Ron, she hadn't dealt with much pleasantness from anyone. Although, thankfully, Harry and Ron hadn't spilled the beans on Tom, they had emphatically told Hermione that it was her problem to fix. And the fix they expected was that she would murder Tom. Hermione couldn't understand why they thought she would do that. She had no intentions of murdering Tom, especially not now.

The moment the door to Hermione's flat closed behind them, Tom was on her. She pushed thoughts of Ron and Harry out of her head as Tom pushed her into the closed door and covered her mouth with his. Hermione was so tired, but the feeling of his body pressed against hers woke her up. And reminded her of one last task she had to complete that evening.

"Tom," she breathed as he moved his mouth down her neck, kissing the skin there.

"So fucking gorgeous. So fucking perfect. I couldn't ask for a better witch," Tom groaned into her skin.

"I have something for you," Hermione breathed.

Tom pulled back to look at her face. Hermione smirked. "It's a birthday present."

"How did…"

"Tom." Hermione gave him a patronizing look, "I know so much more about you than you realize. Including the fact that New Year's Eve is your birthday. How old does that make you? Seventy-seven or twenty-four?"

"Let's go with twenty-four," Tom said. He picked Hermione up and she wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to their bedroom. "What's the surprise?"

Hermione dug the wand from the holster attached to her bra and flicked it. The moment they entered the bedroom, Tom looked around in awe. She'd set it up for another ceremony. The salt ring was almost ready to be closed around the bed and there were a ceremonial knife and bowl set out on one of the bedside tables.

"Which ceremony is this?" Tom asked as he loosened his tie.

Hermione grinned. She'd picked this one out, specifically with Tom in mind. It wasn't really even a grey spell, this one was almost straight up Dark, but she thought that Tom would appreciate it. Especially, since this one gave a permanent power boost.

"Well, it involves a little blood, as you can see," Hermione said. She loosened the ties that held her dress together and it pooled at her feet. Tom couldn't keep his eyes off her. "And some conjuring, hence the candles." Hermione gestured to the tall, black candles that covered every surface and hovered in the air. Black was for conjuring the dead. Tom breathed in sharply at the indication.

"Just how Dark is this one?" Tom whispered.

"Very Dark," Hermione smiled. "Although, I think you'll like it very much."

"Which one, Hermione," Tom fairly growled at her. He stepped close and pulled her body to his.

"Magus Potens Transfero," Hermione replied. She was pleased when Tom gasped and even more pleased when he grinned.

"And who exactly are we targeting?" Tom asked.

"Your former followers who have died," Hermione said. "I figure they were willing to die for you once, why not give up a little of what they don't need anymore."

"This is very Dark, indeed. Are you sure you're alright with it?" Tom asked.

Hermione shrugged. She'd been thinking about this ritual for months. Ever since she stumbled across it. The lure of a permanent power boost was too much for her to ignore.

"It's permanent," Hermione said. "Not temporary like the others we've done. That appeals to me."

Tom crushed her to him and pressed his mouth to hers insistently. Hermione knew that tonight was a night where her life would change forever, and she found she was looking forward to it. She didn't want to take the time to examine her feelings for Tom, but from what Millie said at the gala, Tom was planning on staying with her. If that was the case, then Hermione was willing to throw her lot in with his on a more permanent basis.

"I think I fucking love you," Tom whispered as he trailed his kisses down her neck.

Hermione's heart squeezed at his words. She wasn't sure what they meant, nor was she ready to say anything of the kind back. She pulled back from him with a smirk and indicated the ritual space. Tom nodded and they both disrobed entirely, entered the circle, and closed it.

Tom handed her the knife and Hermione made a small cut on her palm, dripping her blood into the bowl on the nightstand. Tom did the same. Then they clasped their bloodied hands together over the bowl and began chanting.

As the chanting continued, growing louder, the room grew colder and the first apparition appeared. Hermione didn't recognize the ghostly figure, but he nodded at Tom and took his place outside the circle. Soon more popped up; some she recognized, others she didn't. She was shocked to see Professor Snape appear. He quirked an eyebrow at her, but then he too took his place.

After several moments, the pearlescent figures turned to gold, indicating that nobody else from Beyond the Veil was coming. Her bedroom was quite crowded. The figures stood three or four deep outside the circle of salt. The ghostly apparitions took up the chanting and Tom and Hermione fell silent. It was eerie, the way the glow of the spirits mixed with the glow from the candles. Their deep voices made Hermione's skin break out in goose flesh.

"It's time," Tom said with a low voice. Hermione smiled at him nervously. It felt strange to be standing nude in front of so many people, even if they were just spirits at this point. She wasn't sure she could get relaxed enough to have an orgasm. She hadn't thought about this ahead of time. Tom seemed to sense her nervousness because he pushed her onto the bed and quickly took control.

"Turn over," he muttered. She did so, lying on her stomach, her face turned to one side. She could just see Snape and Dolohov staring at her, almost hungrily and she shut her eyes.

Tom trailed his fingers down the flesh of her back, warming her skin and little by little she began to relax. The presence of the spirits had dropped the temperature of the room significantly. Tom ran his hands up the back of her legs, spreading them enough that he could kneel between them. He brought one foot up to his mouth and began kissing along her toes, down her arch, and over her ankle. Hermione groaned at the soft touches and she could feel her arousal start to build. It was intoxicating the way this wizard worshipped her body. Her heart beat faster as he kissed his way from her feet to her center. By the time he arrived she was panting and begging for him to touch her.

"Tom, please," Hermione whispered.

She could feel his grin against the soft skin of her thigh, he wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled them up so she was on her knees, her shoulders and head still buried into the bed. She expected to feel his hard cock slide through her folds, so she was shocked when she felt his tongue instead.

"Tom," Hermione begged. "I won't last, please."

"Don't worry, love," Tom murmured into her skin as he twirled his tongue around her clit. She tried to pump her hips, wanting more friction from him. "We don't have to come at the same time for this ritual. You just enjoy yourself." Hermione saw stars as he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked.

"Tom," she groaned as her orgasm overwhelmed her. She opened her eyes only to see a crowded room of spectral men watching her. Their eyes hooded, their mouths moving in a chant she could just barely hear over the roar of her own blood in her ears.

"Hermione," Tom moaned as he pushed his hard cock through her swollen flesh. Hermione grunted when he hit her cervix and pushed back against him as he pulled out to enter her again. She needed more from him. She needed it harder, faster, fiercer. She needed him to obliterate her thoughts and feelings. She needed him.

Tom slid a firm hand up her spine and grasped the nape of her neck. Hermione arched her back in appreciation of the way Tom dominated her body. His other hand clasped her hip and his pace increased frenetically. Hermione could barely move for the way he was holding her. She pushed against the headboard in front of her with her hands to give her some leverage to meet him thrust for thrust. The feeling of the cloth beneath her fingers was rough as she pushed and pushed and pushed, trying to match Tom's pace.

"A fucking goddess," Tom murmured. Hermione could feel the sweat begin to slide down her back as Tom fucked her.

"I-I need…" Hermione trailed off into a low whine when Tom's hand left her hip and slipped around to begin mashing her clit. It was exactly what she needed. Tom's hand tightened around the back of her neck and Hermione was gone. She came so hard, so suddenly her vision went completely white. She dimly registered Tom's roar above her as he collapsed on top of her.

A cold wind blew through them both as every one of Tom's wraithly followers pushed their way through the circle and through Tom and Hermione's overheated bodies, depositing the last bit of their magic as they went. When they were gone, Hermione felt stronger. Stronger than she ever had in her life. Not just physically, but magically too. It crackled through her veins.

She pushed Tom off of her, onto his back, and she straddled his waist. Leaning down, she pressed a fierce kiss to his mouth before reaching between them and grasping his rapidly hardening cock. She slammed herself down on top of it and arched her back, throwing her head back as she fucked herself on him.

"Fucking Salazar, witch," Tom hissed as she set a punishingly fast pace. She needed him harder, and faster than what they just had. She needed him brutally, and if he wasn't going to…

Tom reached a hand up and flicked one of her nipples. It sent a line of heat straight down to her core and she clutched her pussy around his thick cock in response. They both gasped as their increased magic stores sparkled from Tom's fingertips to Hermione's nipples. She stopped moving as they watched the light blue spark dance over her skin.

Hermione looked at Tom in surprise. "Do it again," she demanded.

Tom shook his head as if he wasn't quite sure how he'd done it to begin with, but then he must have managed it because this time, he brought both hands up and let a spark from each hand crackle against her nipples. They tightened at the stimulus and the spark that traveled down to Hermione's clit this time was less spark and more tidal wave.

"Oh, fucking gods, do it again," Hermione panted as she began rocking her hips. It was almost painful, this electric charge, this pure magic that Tom was sending through her body, but it was what she needed.

She placed her hands on Tom's chest and thought about sending a spark flicker across his skin and one jumped out from the center of her palm, weaving around his skin until it found his nipple. Tom's back arched and he pumped into Hermione's rocking hips, hitting her cervix each time.

"That's new," Tom panted. "Is it… it's a little…" he trailed off as Hermione did it again, this time with both hands. "Painful," he groaned, but Hermione could feel his cock swelling inside her.

"But feels good too," Hermione said.

Tom nodded his agreement. "Feels fucking amazing. Not sure I can go back to regular sex after this."

Hermione tossed her head back and laughed. Tom took the opportunity to roll them over. He grasped each of her hands, holding them down on either side of her head as he began moving inside her. They caught each others eyes and Hermione thought it would be awkward, but it wasn't. It increased her awareness of him and his magic. His dark, blue eyes bored into hers as he plunged in and out of her faster and faster.

"Oh, fuck," Hermione groaned as suddenly the spring in her that had been winding tighter and tighter and tighter sprung free with a snap. Her back arched almost painfully and her entire skin sparked magic between her and Tom. Tom held her down as he continued pumping, continued chasing his own climax.

The moment he came, his own magic sparked all over his body, sparking against Hermione's skin and she was thrown over the edge of bliss once again, almost surprisingly fast. The sparking slowly calmed and Tom was still inside her, still half-hard despite two orgasms in a rather quick succession.

"That was…" Tom trailed off, and Hermione found she still couldn't tear her eyes from him. She had her legs wrapped around his back and she flexed them, pulling him tighter to her. Tom closed his eyes with a groan, dropping his forehead to hers. "Merlin, fucking Circe."

"Think it'll be like this always now?" Hermione asked. She concentrated and found she was able to send the magic sparks across Tom's skin anew.

"I don't know," Tom groaned and Hermione felt him growing hard again. "But I'm planning to take advantage of it, just in case." The look he sent her was positively indecent and Hermione grinned up at him. She pressed her lips to his and found she cared less about the permanent power boost and more about exploring whatever this new magic was between her and Tom.

January 2003

Madame Staccio's Teahouse

Diagon Alley, London, England

Hermione tapped her fingers against her thigh nervously. She was due to meet Pansy and Millie in a few minutes, but couldn't quite bring herself to go inside the teahouse. She didn't really want to sit through tea with two Slytherins who would parse everything she said, looking for a weakness. She'd much rather be back at her flat with Tom. They'd barely left bed in the last few days and the winter holiday would be ending in another day. She'd have to go back to work, away from Tom for hours at a time.

You love him, a voice whispered in her head and Hermione shook it fiercely. He'd taken to calling her love with increasing frequency and Hermione worried about what that meant. Was he truly in love with her? Harry's voice kept reminding her that as a product of a love potion that Tom wasn't capable of love, but even if it wasn't love, there was devotion. She took a deep breath. It didn't matter if Tom loved her. She'd committed herself to this course of action and she couldn't back out now. She wouldn't let Tom loose without at least someone acting as his moral compass.

Hermione pushed the door to the shop open and spotted Pansy and Millie immediately. They were on the other side of the room in a deep booth. Madame Staccio's was well known for its privacy booths. The walls were lined with them: each with heavy, sound dampening curtains ready to be pulled shut should the conversation require it. Hermione could see a few gorgeous, damask curtains pulled closed, although it was rather early for tea and there were a few people around in booths with the curtains open.

For those patrons unable to afford the privacy booths, there were many small tables scattered about the shop. Hermione made her way through them as she steeled herself for the inevitable confrontation to come.

"Hermione!" Millie greeted her warmly and enthusiastically, kissing the air above both cheeks in the style of the continent. Pansy greeted her just as warmly and Hermione was already on edge by what that meant.

"Seriously, Hermione, relax," Pansy said several moments later after the waitress had been by with the tea things. "We're not closing the curtains. We told you. We want you to be our friend."

"I didn't think Slytherin's had friends," Hermione muttered without thinking.

Millie smirked then laughed. "Of course, Slytherin's have friends. Besides, you're with the Slytherin now. Which makes you one of us. And Slytherins look after their own."

Hermione pursed her lips. She thought about whether she could trust them or not. She wanted to; she desperately felt like she needed a friend, but their shared history was ugly at best.

"What do we have to do to earn your trust?" Millie asked, suddenly serious.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe I just need time. I…" She took a deep breath, "you're not wrong. I do need a friend or two, but I just…" she shrugged.

"I get it, Hermione. Really I do," Pansy said. She reached across the table and grasped Hermione's hand. "We'll give you time, but we aren't going to give you up. Bi-weekly tea dates begin now. Besides, didn't you ask for gossip updates?" Pansy wiggled her eyebrows at Hermione and she finally relaxed enough to laugh.

"Alright, what gossip do you have for me?"

"Well, Tom is very well respected by his peers, as I'm sure you could have guessed from Tuesday night." Hermione nodded. "What you may not know, is how feared he is from the older generation."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. She'd tried to keep tabs on what Tom had been doing, but between her job and the stress over Harry and Ron, she'd sort of lost track for a few weeks.

"He's gotten enough seats on the Wizengamot to call for an election of unfilled seats," Millie said.

Hermione knew a little about the Wizengamot, but not enough and it must have shown because Pansy went on to explain.

"Traditionally, the Wizengamot seats are passed down family to family. Occasionally, if a family goes extinct, they may election off a seat. But because of the last two wars, there are loads of seats that either weren't filled, or belonged to extinct families. And the Wizengamot wasn't doing anything about it. Because they all had a quorum. But Tom started convincing people to take seats if they were available to them. So like, Nott took his father's. Draco petitioned for and won the Black seat—"

"But that's Harry's!" Hermione interrupted.

"Potter didn't object. He allowed Draco to take it. I've actually taken the Selwyn seat as my mother was a Selwyn and Millie took the Bulstrode seat. We had enough of a vote to call for an election of the rest."

Hermione knew there were a hundred Wizengamot seats. "How many to be electioned off?"

"Fifteen," Millie said.

"So many?"

"That's how long this Wizengamot hasn't been electioning off seats. There are twenty-five of us, the New Guard, Tom calls us. With an additional fifteen we'll still be in the minority, but too big for the majority to call a quorum. We might actually get something done." Pansy sounded so passionate as she talked about it that Hermione found herself nodding along.

"And we might annoy some of the old-timers into quitting," Millie added. "There are a few who might be swayed, but not many. And if we can get them to give up their seat, all the better."

"So when is the election?" Hermione asked.

"Three weeks," Pansy said.

"So soon? Why hasn't there been anything in the Daily Prophet about it?" Hermione asked.

"The Wizengamot is attempting to block the election. If those seats are not filled, then they have an option to get rid of them entirely," Pansy warned.

"Merlin," Hermione breathed as she thought about the implication of that.

"Exactly, so there will be lots of gatherings over the next few weeks to not only discuss the election, but persuade people to vote," Millie explained.

"Who's running?" Hermione asked.

"Tom, for one," Pansy said. "The Gaunt seat has been empty too long and the Wizengamot wouldn't let him take it up. Especially since he made you the Gaunt heir."

Hermione felt herself flush. "You know about that?"

She fully expected Pansy and Millie to laugh at her, but they didn't. Millie shrugged. "We do. And the reason Tom did it was because he wasn't going to get a seat on the Wizengamot without an election, so it truly didn't matter. And if it got you a vault at Gringotts…" Millie shrugged again.

"Right," Hermione nodded and sipped at her now cold tea as she mulled over everything they had told her. "How can I help?"

"We thought you'd never ask," Pansy said with a wolfish grin.

January 2003

Ministry of Magic

London, England

Tom still couldn't believe the power boost he'd had since New Year's Eve. He rarely had to use his wand. And his nonverbal magic worked better than it ever had in the past. He could feel the power flowing through his veins; something he'd never felt prior to now. Magic had always seemed so innate and now he could feel it. It was intoxicating, to say the least.

He especially loved that it was Hermione who had decided on ritual. It hadn't been a ritual bordering on Dark, it was Dark magic. He'd been in awe when he'd seen the amount of followers he'd had in the past; but when he thought about collecting those powerful individuals over fifty years, it didn't seem like such a large number. Although, the fact that so many of them were dead was a testament to how horrific his previous rise to power had been. It was another nail in the coffin to the road that led to Horcruxes.

The power boost from New Year's Eve wasn't the only coup that evening. Hermione's integration into the pure-blood circles couldn't have gone better if he had orchestrated it himself. Which, truthfully, he hadn't done more than suggest to Millie and Pansy that Hermione could use a few friends. He had hinted that Potter and Weasley weren't in the picture and the women had done the rest.

He hadn't imagined that Hermione would take to politicking like a hippogriff to flight. She wasn't a natural Slytherin, although she was very observant. Tom realized he would have to be careful with what he did and said around her, because it seemed nothing went over her head. The moment Millie and Pansy had suggested that the old guard was going to abolish seats in the Wizengamot, Hermione had begun campaigning with him and without him. She'd spoken to every Ministry contact she had about voting, and even went out of her way to speak with everyone who even bothered to wave or smile at her.

Hermione's minor celebrity was still something Tom couldn't quite understand, but she used it to her advantage. Encouraging everyone who would listen to vote in the upcoming Wizengamot election. She didn't directly tell people to vote for him, although Tom had heard her mention his name in connection with her own and imagined that was enough for some of them. The Slytherin qualities she had shown over the last three weeks only served to make Tom admire her all the more.

He was hesitant to say that he loved her. He wasn't quite sure he could love someone, but he found himself using terms of endearment so much more than he had in the past. And the thought of giving her up for any reason was out of the question. Hermione belonged to him. And Tom took care of his things. End of story.

When he did win the election into the Wizengamot, Tom wasn't even the least bit surprised. Seeing Hermione grin happily at him as the news came down through the Atrium of the Ministry had been the icing on the cake. Foregoing their mutual disdain for public displays of affection, Hermione threw her arms around Tom and pressed a congratulatory kiss to his lips. The electric quality to their magic when engaging in amorous activities since the last sex ritual was there. It was always there. It bounced between them and Tom groaned as he felt himself harden in response. He wanted nothing more than to take her there in the middle of the Ministry. But like any good politician, he kept the kiss chaste and broke from her.

The glint in her eyes promised a good evening to come and Tom found he couldn't wait, even as congratulations flowed in from all around them.

"Let me take you out," Tom breathed once he had found Hermione again in the crowd. "Just us. To celebrate."

"Alright," Hermione agreed readily enough. She had stopped questioning Tom's mysterious funding source and, now that he'd been elected to the Wizengamot, he would draw a salary. He couldn't believe everything was falling into place so neatly.

January 2003

Pierre's

Diagon Alley, London, England

"How did you even get a table?" Hermione breathed as Tom held the door open to Pierre's, the most exclusive restaurant in Diagon Alley.

"I have my sources," Tom grinned down at her. She had dressed for the occasion and took Tom's breath away with the cocktail dress she had donned. Tom had encouraged Hermione to listen to Pansy and Millie's fashion advice and was pleased to see the changes in her wardrobe over the last few weeks.

"Well, I'm quite excited," Hermione said. "I hear their wine list is to die for."

"Indeed, Miss Granger," the maître d'hôtel said as he guided Tom and Hermione to a small private booth.

Tom grinned as he placed a hand on the small of Hermione's back. Everyone who was anyone was in Pierre's; Ministry department heads, Wizengamot members, leaders of industry, and Tom was sure he spotted the Minister himself in the back of the restaurant. Tom hoped they were all shaking in their boots after that day's election. Not only had Tom won, but so did fourteen of his followers. The ones who weren't already holding Wizengamot seats. The quorum enjoyed by the old guard was successfully broken.

"Well," Hermione said once they were settled and had chosen a wine. "What are you plans Warlock Evans?"

Tom grinned wolfishly at her and then eyed the rest of the establishment who were so obviously ignoring them. Probably hoping to snub them, although Tom believed that it was impossible to be snubbed if one didn't care what others thought.

"Mmm, my immediate future, Miss Granger, hopefully involves a lovely witch and perhaps a moment taken to worship her between her creamy thighs."

Hermione's jaw dropped in shock. "Here?"

"Merlin willing," Tom grinned. He slipped his hand beneath the table and walked his fingers up her thigh, gathering the skirt of her dress as he went.

"Tom!" Hermione hissed, glancing about the restaurant.

"Nobody is watching. You just have to sit and try to relax as I work my way through my victory feast," Tom whispered. He leaned over and nuzzled her neck.

"Tom, what if the maître d' or waiter comes or something," Hermione groaned softly as Tom captured the lobe of her ear in his mouth and sucked on it.

"Then you can let them know I'm in the loo and they can come back when I've returned to my seat," Tom said. He'd finally reached his goal and stroked his fingers over the quickly dampening cloth of her knickers.

"I won't be able to keep quiet!" Hermione whispered fiercely.

"Then you better come quickly," Tom said as he delved his fingers beneath the cloth of her knickers.

"Fuck," Hermione panted and stood the menu in front of her. Tom looked around the restaurant once more to find every back turned to them. He slipped beneath the tablecloth to find Hermione's legs spread widely before him. He chuckled to himself at her protestations. She clearly wanted this as much as he did.

He Vanished her knickers and snorted when he heard her cover her gasp with a fake cough. This was going to be so much fun. He breathed in her scent, leaning as far forward as he could, and gripped her hips, sliding her further down the seat until her cunt was directly in front of his face. Hermione lifted one leg and placed it over his shoulders. Tom took the hint and placed the other one there. If there was anywhere in the world Tom felt he could spend infinite time in, it was here. Between Hermione's creamy thighs, surrounded by the musk of her scent.

She tried to reach a hand down to grasp Tom's hair and he batted it away, then bit her thigh in warning. Tom licked her lips softly then opened them with one hand. She was so wet already and he'd barely touched her. He fucking loved this about her: how ready and willing she was at all times. She never told him no and some of the things she'd come up with in the bedroom were things Tom hadn't even heard of; she was impossibly inventive. Tom sighed, breathing his hot breath over her cunt, before dipping his tongue inside her opening.

Hermione's thighs tightened around his ears and she bucked her hips into his face. Tom wrapped an arm around each thigh, holding her down, and began going to work. He alternated fucking her with his tongue and tonguing her clit. She grew wetter and wetter, and Tom could feel her thighs tense the closer she got to her orgasm.

So far, he'd kept his fingers away, knowing the moment he plunged them into her, she'd fall apart.

"Uh… he's in the…" Hermione coughed as Tom wrapped his lips around her clit. "Loo. He'll be back," she choked out as Tom began to suck on her clit. Then he released one of her thighs and drove two fingers into her waiting cunt.

Her pussy tightened so hard around his hand, he couldn't move his fingers even if he wanted too. He was able to curl them slightly and Tom felt her cunt clutch his hand over and over again. When he decided she'd had enough, he removed his hand, licking it clean. Then he cleaned her thighs and pussy lips with his tongue before sliding back into his chair, next to Hermione.

She had the menu propped up on the table in front of her and was completely slouched behind it, hidden from view. Her face was red and her careful chignon started to come apart. Tom chuckled at the sight and leaned over to help her sit up.

"I thought we were celebrating you," Hermione hummed contentedly. "Because that definitely felt like it was about me."

"Oh, I assure you, I enjoyed that thoroughly," Tom replied. He grabbed her hand and placed it in his lap, squeezing her fingers around his hard cock. "Besides, I imagine you'll have a surprise or two for me when we get home."

"Oh, Merlin, do I," Hermione grinned at him.