authorsnotes: good god I'm sorry about the gap on this, I had the WORST writers block on this story for a while but finally worked through it!
do enjoy, do review
songrecs: im in love with you - the 1975
After that, that being their conversation on the Astronomy Tower, everything seemed to change.
Not Tom, she was sure he was unchangeable, he was still unapologetic, any hint of vulnerability he'd shown her on the Tower (and she was almost sure she'd imagined that) was long gone, and it if anything he only seemed more insufferable, now they (not him, not his secret, that she would take to the grave if he asked), were more out in the open.
An arm slung over her shoulder as they walked to lessons, sharing a book in said lessons, holding her hand on the way to Hogsmeade, exactly what she had wanted, exactly what she'd expressed to him in the little bookshop in the sleepy wizarding village.
But it came with complications she hadn't anticipated, complications that made things difficult.
She should have been basking in having her first real boyfriend, in the way he had an almost smile, not quite smirk, just for her, the way he kissed her in the library, the fact he was hers, she didn't miss the envious looks shot her way after all, should have been as happy as could be.
But it was not that simple.
Not as Hermione Granger.
No, her friends still didn't trust him, not one bit, didn't want to know him or change their minds. They'd begrudgingly backed off (after she'd have some choice words with them about being a grown woman who could make her own choices), but they certainly weren't happy about it.
His friends, her enemies once, and still, didn't say a word against her, as terrified as him as they were. She didn't hang out with them, didn't want to, and had nearly had a heart attack when Draco Malfoy had held a door open for her – just how badly had Tom terrified them?
She knew how badly.
It was like she had two halves to her life, her friends, who she ate with, sat with, Harry and Ron who'd she'd link arms with, still the trio, her and Ginny hanging out just the two of them. She'd still attend Quidditch Practice to cheer them on, still studied with them and nagged them about their homework. It was odd, suspended, like none of them were acknowledging the other half of her life.
Tom, and all that entailed. Just the two of them, walking together, studying, still having amazing sex, snatching moments, sitting next to each other in class, making out in the broomcloset and holding hands by the lake.
Two halves, neither fit with each other, like puzzle pieces but from two very different sets.
How did she reconcile them?
She knew, pessimistically, as she curled up in bed each night, that she probably couldn't, but she couldn't bare the thought of choosing.
She cared for Tom deeply, probably loved him, held all of the empathy in the world for him after what he'd been through …
But she wouldn't choose him, not yet.
Perhaps that made her a coward, perhaps she was scared of the world he wanted to build, what that meant for her in the middle of it all, perhaps she was scared what he'd do to her friends, had seen him glare as Ron slung an arm around her shoulders and she hooked arms with Neville. Perhaps she was a coward for not confronting it, what he truly wanted.
Power, he'd admitted that, but how far would he go?
Denial … it was a strong thing, something she wasn't used to, normally charging in demanding answers, but as she fell into a fitful sleep, she wasn't sure they were answers she'd like.
Come Saturday morning, she'd slept poorly.
She hated this, she was supposed to be happy, but everything felt like it was hanging in balance, and one wrong move and it would all tip.
Which side would she land on?
As she trudged out of Gryffindor Tower, the boys still asleep this early she found Tom waiting for her and managed a smile; as confusing as things were, there was no denying, she loved having Tom around.
Having a boyfriend, a real boyfriend, it wasn't as simple as just basking in it, but sometimes she allowed herself too. As he took his hand in hers and they made their way to the Great Hall. She snuggled into him a little closer and he dropped a kiss to her forehead before they reached the doors.
"I'll see you later?" She asked. There was a Quidditch match tomorrow, so she'd be tied up with the boys and Ginny all day, so today she planned to spend all her time with Tom, they'd meet in the library, the weather was too nasty (endless rain) to venture out, and so she imagined they'd meet later.
"Come and sit with me?" He asked, as though it were normal, but she paled, glanced over at the Slytherin table to find his friends (or lackies?) waiting, eating breakfast, and she shook her head so quickly she almost hurt her neck.
"No, I'm okay" She said with a strained smile. Tom may not mind her heritage (or just accept it, and her, she thought, and hated such a thought, had barely made peace with it), but she knew the Slytherins only didn't call her mudblood now because they were terrified of Tom, not because they'd had a radical change of beliefs.
"Come on" He asked then, and smiled, a smile he knew she couldn't resist, but for this? She could.
She had no desire to sit at a table with people who thought she was a second-class citizen and would only hesitate because they were terrified of her boyfriend.
Somehow that was worse than them outright insulting her, the idea they were thinking it but only holding back because they were scared. Better they not be cowards and call her mudblood to her face, at least then she could spit back at them and rally, not just sit their knowing they were thinking it.
"They won't say anything" He said, and she shook her head, either he didn't get it (unlikely) or he was trying to push her, but she didn't want to be pushed, not on this. This wasn't her struggling with her confidence on some magic or feeling insecure, this was his bigoted friends and how she most certainly did not want to sit with them.
"That's not the problem" She said tightly, people were looking at them now, glancing their way. A lot of people were fascinated by their relationship, by the Slytherin default gang leader and the Gryffindor golden girl dating, about the new bad boy being taken off the market by the dorky know-it-all. So, people looked, and Hermione tried not to shuffle her feet.
She didn't want to be embarrassed, or make a scene, but she would, to avoid eating with Slytherins.
Some would say she was as prejudiced as them, but she was fine with that, knew her reasons were valid; she would not subject herself to that hate.
And really, as she thought about it, disliked that Tom would.
"I'll see you later" She repeated, saw the flash of annoyance in Tom's eyes, but she was no dog running after his hand, and instead smiled, tightly, kissed him on the cheek, and whispered, "I won't sit with people who think I'm lower than dirt, and you shouldn't ask me too" She said quickly, before hurrying away, hands clasped, over to the Gryffindor table, sliding into a seat next to Neville, who smiled at her.
Soon, deep in a conversation about tropical riverbed plants, eating her oatmeal, pumpkin juice in hand did she feel more at ease, at home, at the Gryffindor table; she'd never be at home at the Slytherin table, where Tom was.
And that was the problem, wasn't it?
She glanced over at Tom who wasn't looking at her, but chatting to said friends, and she frowned before turning away.
A problem that felt unsolvable, even to her.
An hour later she'd found some equilibrium, sat not in the library, but instead an empty classroom, sitting back against one of the walls, a book in her lap ignored as she pondered just what her life had become.
Little yellow birds flew in a circle around her head, chirping happily, her only companions.
When had life become so complicated?
Her first boyfriend, the man she might love, and her best friends despised one another. She despised his friends, and they thought her to be scum. He was dangerous, that was easy to tell, a boy flung through time but clearly brilliant, power thirsty, and maybe in love with her, or the closest thing to love as she was.
This was no simple first crush, bit of romance, it was more intense than that, felt more serious, felt more tipped with danger. What was she to do?
"I thought you'd stopped running away from me" He spoke, her eyes had been closed, she flinched as he spoke, for he'd been silent in coming in. She should have expected he'd dismantle any wards she'd put up, though they hadn't been designed for him, she knew she couldn't keep him out.
"I'm not running" She said, opening her eyes, finding Tom standing over her, she felt a touch surprised as he settled down next to her, and took her hand, perhaps they wouldn't argue, that would be nice.
Tom had once said their arguing was just a sign of their passion, maybe she didn't like passion if that was the case. Though, it was hardly just his fault, they were just as fiery as each other.
She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.
"Hmm" He hummed, not believing her, she couldn't blame him, she barely believed herself. She had run in a sense, ran away from his friends, but again, she asked, who could blame her?
"I won't be around them Tom" She confided then, feeling the need to get it out. With a sigh she rested her head on his shoulder, and cuddled close, she was glad when he reciprocated, holding her near him, where she finally felt calm.
This was the only place she really felt calm nowadays; in Toms arms.
"They think I'm scum" She said, he didn't flinch, he could be trusted on that front, "They think I shouldn't be here, that I'm a stain on this world, that I should be chucked out of it" She could feel tears biting at hers, but she refused to let them fall, not for them, "They don't think I'm a person"
She paused then, she was glad he was letting her speak, not rushing to reassure her, "I can't sit across from them, knowing they think that, knowing they don't say it because of you but still think it" She carried on, "Draco Malfoy wished me dead, Pansy Parkinson sneered mudblood at me everytime I passed her for a week" She closed her eyes, forcing the tears back, they didn't deserve them, "I won't sit with them, pretend they don't think that"
"I understand" He said, and she felt relief wash over her shoulders, perhaps this could be it.
But of course not.
"But I need them" He said honestly, "I wish I didn't but I do, to get what I want"
"You'd cosy up to people who think your girlfriend is dirt to get what you want?" She asked, bitterness edging her tone. Had they had this conversation a thousand times? Perhaps at least three, but it never felt any less painful, any less raw.
"For now" He said, she supposed that was better, but it still stung, this time she flinched, "How else can I change it?"
"You don't want to change it" She mumbled, turning her face into his neck, not wanting to cry but feeling it come close; was she supposed to cry this much with her boyfriend? She didn't think so.
"I will" He said, "I may … I may not like muggles, I never will, but you're not a muggle"
It wasn't enough.
"No" She said, turning to face him again, her cheeks were wet, dammit, "I'm a muggleborn, and what do you think of me?"
"I love you" He said, and she jolted in shock.
There it was, nothing other than the plain three words, simple, open, honest, and he looked her in the eye, his grey meeting her brown, the sincerity there was clear, Hermione was sure she'd never seen him so sincere, and it shook her, shook her to her core.
"What?" She said, face pale, shocked was an understatement.
"I do" He said, and he cupped her face then, and she leaned in without hesitation, "I didn't think I could, it would be easier if I didn't" Too honest, but that was Tom, and she'd rather that than falsehoods, "But I do Hermione, I love you and all that means"
"I love you too" Because she did, she knew it, had known it for a while, and as he'd said it, the words had come to her lips and refused to be suppressed again, "I do, with all my heart"
"Then don't ask me what I think of you" He said, brushing a thumb over her cheek, "I could never think less of you" He paused, "Or anyone like you"
"Like me?" She asked, her eyes widened.
"Once I'd planned to use muggleborns as the way to get power, the old pureblood traditions" He paused then, bit down on his lip, sighed, as though committing himself to something, she got the sense he was, as he looked her back in the eye, and smiled, strained, resigned, but for her, "But not anymore, not with you, I won't"
"But how?" She asked, not that she cared for her, she had no thirst for power, but she knew it drove him, knew maybe it was something to do with his time before he'd come here, a time she knew little about and couldn't know much about, in case of the timeline, but she imagined that was where it came from, she didn't want to deprive him of that, but she was glad he'd do it differently.
"I'll work it out" He said with a shrug, "I'll have the brightest witch of her generation with me after all" He said with a smile, and she grinned, a grin so hard her cheeks hurt as he cupped them.
"Thank you" She said, leaning forward to kiss him, gently, ever so gently, it felt tender, something she didn't know she could feel, "I just … thank you"
"You shouldn't thank me" He said, leaning forward to brush his lips against hers again, before he kissed her forehead, and then each of her eyelids in turn, "I'll find another way"
"I'll be with you" It was almost like a promise, a vow, and perhaps it was.
"I know" He said, and he sounded so sure, she smiled, and settled back into his arms, it was impossible not to believe.
He hadn't known he could love really, had always thought it would allude him, but no, apparently, he wasn't immune to it.
It was worse, it would have been easier, better, if he was, but he had to play the hand life dealt him, he always had and come out on top, this would be no different.
Because he did love Hermione, and if he had to love someone who better than her? He'd need to change his plans, put the purebloods in their place, perhaps that would be easier? Probably not, but what choice did he have now?
He loved her, it was the strangest feeling, it almost hurt, but he did, and there was no turning back now.
As she settled into his embrace, and they both pulled out a book, and he brushed his lips to her hair.
It would have been easier without love, but he could admit, begrudgingly, as his mind worked and worked … it wouldn't have felt so good.
damnnnnnnn
tom can feel love, but don't expect him to suddenly be mushy, he's now just 90% sociopath, 10% hermione simp, okay maybe 80/20 lol
more story to come, I felt it important to hash this out, what was holding me up was getting over the 'toms route to power' hurdle whilst keeping tomione intact, now I have it, I think we can move forward
do review if you can, and see you soon (much sooner!)