The Fight

Tom watched as Hermione walked out of the kitchen, grateful for the way her hips swayed under her sleep shirt. However, he knew he had to get rid of her for three reasons.

First, she was obviously lying about where she came from and what she did. He would have remembered her if he had gone to Hogwarts, yet he didn't. She was so wary around. That was very odd for someone just meeting him. She must be hiding something.

Second, she somehow knew about him. Tom didn't know how, but he could see the fear deep in her eyes whenever she looked at him. He could tell that she knew something about what he did when he wasn't being a 'normal' person. He was evil, and she knew that before she even met him.

Third, she was beautiful. He couldn't risk someone getting in the way of his goal like that, and he knew she would if she were to stay. That is, if Jack didn't get to her first.

All these reasons added up to only one solution: she must leave. Tom just didn't know how to make her. She was obviously without a home, as Cygnus had found her lying in his yard. And yet, Tom didn't really care, she was smart, he could tell that. She would find a way to survive. And from the looks of it, she had been through some pretty hard stuff anyway, so her departure shouldn't bother her too much.

This would not be an easy task for Tom though; she had an odd and yet deep connection with both of the Potters. It wasn't necessarily romance with Jack, but it was more of a strong and unbreakable need to know that the two were safe and happy. It was odd, something Tom hadn't ever witnessed before. It seemed like love, like a family. Tom shivered; his only family memories were more than unpleasant.

His father walked in the cold, small house, cursing from a day at work. Tom crawled into a corner, hoping he could be invisible. He held, in his hand, a letter with a seal on it.

His father saw him, "What are you doing, boy?" He was drunk yet again. Tom trembled.

"Answer me, dammit!" Tom said nothing but saw how his father's eyes focused on the letter, he tried to hide it. "What is that, Tom?"

As his father read over Tom's acceptance letter for Hogwarts, he laughed.

"Really?" he started bellowing; it shook his beer belly, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? That's bloody brilliant, that is so damn hilarious. As if my idiot of a son could ever amount to anything, especially something that doesn't exist."

He continued laughing and Tom grew angry, it was a fierce emotion that strangled him. He was so incredibly angry that he stood up and punched his dad. It was his way out, this school, and he would go no matter what his father said.

As Tom's fist made contact with his father's pudgy face, he realized his mistake. His father was much bigger than he, much stronger, for Tom was only thirteen at the time.

Tom would never forget the way his father's eyes had glazed over with pure hate at that moment, the way they turned to a crimson red.

His father had beaten him that night, almost to death. He had awoken unable to see or feel any part of his face. It took him weeks to fully recover. But he would never ever forgive his father.

Not even if he begged for it on his deathbed, which he did, Tom standing over him wand in hand.

The memory brought back more anger than Tom could handle; he blew up the first thing standing near him, not realizing it was one of the house elves. Tom grimaced for a moment, wondering how he would explain it to Jack. The elf cried out once his eyes screaming pain, and then fell.

Tom heard an outraged gasp come from behind him. He expected to see Greta, lover of all creatures. Instead he saw Hermione. She was standing there, infuriated. It was very sexy, no matter how angry she was. Her face was a lovely red, her eyes a darker brown.

He found that he wanted desperately to repeat what had happened only a few moments before.

"Change your mind, Hermione?" he asked, smiling, for he was enjoying her anger, although he had no idea why she would care about a stupid elf.

"You bloody, stupid oaf!" she shouted coming toward him, bending over the remains of the elf. "Dilly?" she said softly, calling it.

"Dilly, are you there?" and then she was crying, it was quite disturbing to Tom, but of course she was beautiful while doing it so he couldn't really focus on what she was saying.

"… I realize you're not the nicest of people, but at least blow up something not breathing!"

"Hermione, I didn't know he was standing there. I just turned to my left and blew him up, it was not my fault."

She glared at him, "You can't even say sorry can you?"

"I have no need to," he didn't understand why it mattered even a little; it wasn't like he'd killed a person. Not that he hadn't killed his fair share before. The faces flashed back through his memory, they always did. But Tom thought that the mind could get used to anything, it could bear any sort of mental torment, so he figured it would go away eventually and he would stop feeling the guilt.

"You're disgusting, he's a helpless elf, he did nothing to you." She was still ranting, it was getting a bit annoying.

"But that's it, Hermione, he's just an elf. He doesn't matter."

She gasped at this, Tom wasn't sure how he had outraged her more, but it didn't seem to matter.

"And what if, instead of being a pompous arrogant fool, you were an elf. What if you had been dealt those cards? Would you like someone to go blasting you up just because you were 'less' than a human?"

"Hermione, you're being illogical."

"No I'm not, Tom, you are."

And with that she walked off, angrily shutting the door on her way out. He was confused; besides being smart, and beautiful, she was also extremely – if not a bit ridiculously – compassionate?

A/N: So how did you like the story from Tom's perspective? I know it's yet again short, but I'll keep trying to make it longer. Review please! :)