Another update for May 2nd.
And a reminder that I don't own the bolded quotes, they're taken from NBC's Hannibal.
This chapter has a bit of mature content but none too specific, hints of non-con and violence/ character death.
"I've given my life to death."
"And now death has followed you home,"
Hermione nearly walked back out the coffee shop when she saw Riddle inside. He was by the counter, fixing the lid on the top of his cup when he looked up. She felt the butterflies in her stomach before he even smiled.
Hermione smiled politely, "Dr. Riddle, it's like we're seeing each other everywhere now," she teased half heartedly. Lately, she had bumped into him in the places she always considered her haven. The library on the days she volunteered, the park in the mornings she tried to practice her running (Harry had suggested that), the farmers market she went to every sunday, and now the coffee shop she visited before work.
"Fate just doesn't want us apart," he said with a glint in his eye.
"Fate needs to get her priorities sorted out," she replied, walking towards the counter.
"Let me buy you your drink," he offered. "Compensate for the awfulness that must be my presence."
Hermione genuinely smiled at that, "A coffee might make up for that, thanks."
He nodded, walking up to the counter and ordering her usual coffee. "You work today," Hermione wasn't sure if it was a question or not, she simply nodded.
"Yeah, I usually hang out here for a while though. Luna is always early and she has the weirdest conversation topics."
He smiled, "So you have time? We can sit down and talk for a while."
Hermione tilted her head and pretended to think about it, "I'm not sure I have the usual hourly fee right now."
"You can have this one hour on the house," he gave what Hermione thought was his most charming smile.
"I'm not sure Ginny will appreciate that," Hermione said, taking the coffee the employee placed on the counter.
"Ginevra hasn't been coming to therapy anymore, I would have thought she told you," he frowned. "She said she was having family troubles."
"Family troubles?" Hermione mirrored his frown. As far as she knew, the Weasley's were fine. "I just had dinner with them last week, Ginny was talking about how great therapy was going, I even saw the prescription she had for her anxiety."
"I'll have to call her," he murmured. "I haven't gave her any prescription. She stopped coming about a month ago. Maybe she's seeing someone else."
Hermione blinked, "I really hope she is. I'd hate to think she's gotten the prescription from anyone that isn't a professional."
"You never talk much about her," Tom noted. "She use to talk a lot about you."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Isn't part of your job not to talk about what your patients tell you? You're making me doubt ever going to therapy."
Instead of answering, he seemed concerned, "Has she still been acting cold towards you?"
Hermione didn't answer, only looked at him with suspicion.
"She had a grudge against you, I figured with family problems, she'd have to lay off you. We were working on handling her aggression, but if she has time on her hands, and no one to talk to, plus some unmonitored medication, I'd fear for your safety."
"My safety? Are you insinuating that Ginny would hurt me? She doesn't have anything against me, besides she's a total sweetheart." Hermione shook her head, "The idea of Ginny being a threat is ridiculous."
Tom gave her a pitiful look that made Hermione's cheeks turn pink.
"Don't give me that look. You don't know Ginny enough to tell me something like that." How dare he accuse Ginny of being someone that hurt people? He made her sound like a menace. He knew Hermione was in a very vulnerable time, she was wary about everything, and now his own words were the ones to throw her off.
"I don't know Ginevra? Really? Because I wasn't her therapist for months?"
Hermione glared, "You don't have to make her sound so unstable. She may sound angry at me sometimes, but we've been friends since we were kids. She wouldn't hurt me."
Tom looked unfazed by her anger, "I'm going to call her and try to convince her to come back and talk to me." He took a sip of his coffee and looked at Hermione intently. "If you ever feel like you're in trouble, don't hesitate to call me."
"What do you-"
"If you ever feel like your gut is telling you something is wrong, call me. You know I'll always be there for you."
"You really don't have to-" Hermione began begrudgingly.
"I'd hate for something to happen to you Hermione," he said seriously.
"That almost sounded like a threat Dr. Riddle."
"Call me Tom," he smiled.
"God's terrific. He dropped a church roof on 34 of his worshipers last Wednesday night in Texas, while they sang a hymm."
"Did God feel good about that?
"He felt powerful."
"Hermione thinks she's so clever," Ginny gritted out. "She's been asking me so many questions lately. She told my mother I haven't been coming to therapy, I don't know why anyone ever believes her."
"She thinks you haven't been making any progress?" Tom asked softly. "That's a terrible thing for her to say."
"She made me sound like a crack addict to Ron," she hissed. "Are you sure she should be taking those pills? Who prescribed those pills to her Ronald? Ginny has been taking an awful lot of medication Ron."
Tom had to force himself to keep an impassive expression. Her imitation of Hermione was horrendous.
"What do you feel her intentions are?"
"I think she's just trying to make me look bad," she huffed.
"There's nothing you can do to stop her Ginevra, you have to learn to deal with her."
"Oh," Ginevra smiled an uncanny smile. "I know that. She gets out of work late today, at eight. I think I have to stop by her apartment and have a little talk with her."
Tom smiled back, "At eight? A talk with her would be perfect Ginevra. I'm glad you see that."
"After today Hermione will never make me look bad anymore."
"One can only hope," he smiled.
"Can I ask something?" she said strangely quiet.
"Of course."
"It's true that if a patient tells their therapist about a murder they're planning-"
"It would be my job to alert authorities."
"But if a patient confides in you after they've murdered someone, under patient confidentiality, you're not legally forced to say anything.. Right?"
Tom's smile grew, "Correct."
"Maybe you can meet me at Hermione's apartment a little after eight," she smiled.
Tom nearly laughed at her. She was so gullible, so easy to use. The look she was giving him now would have made him rolled his eyes if he wasn't so happy. She reminded him of the puppy his mother had bought him once.
"I'll see you then," he agreed.
Her entire face brightened.
…
Ginny stared at the door with so much intensity. She gripped the knife in her hand so tightly if anyone saw her, they would think her insane.
And maybe, she was just a little bit insane. She had taken the rest of the medication Dr. Riddle had given her. Her anxiety was gone but she didn't feel like herself. If she hadn't given him back the diary the other day, she would have been writing in it.
He liked to read what she wrote, and she liked pleasing him. Her writing was usually about what Hermione would do throughout the day, but it was very detailed, and that was something she knew Dr. Riddle admired.
Ginny glanced at the clock on the wall, it was still early.
She ran the tip of her knife over one of Hermione's old couches and walked around the living room. She purposely knocked down some of the picture frames, and imagined how Hermione would react.
Ginny hoped she screamed.
It felt like she had just walked into the hall when she heard someone open the front door.
"I- I'm sorry to bother you Tom," Ginny heard a voice say. "It's probably nothing, but I always leave my door locked and when I got home it-.. I just feel.. scared. Something isn't right and I just need to talk to someone… That would be great.. thank you. Really."
Ginny clenched her teeth together.
She didn't feel herself walk back into the living room until she saw Hermione standing in front of her.
It was almost comical the way her eyes widened. "Ginny? What are you-" her eyes looked down at the knife. "Ginny, why are you holding that?"
Ginny laughed but she wasn't sure why. Hermione had a phone clutched in her hand, though it wasn't pressed to her ear as it must have been a few seconds ago. She was standing a good distance away from the door, which was now closed. "You think you're so great."
"Ginny put the knife down, you're going to hurt yourself," Hermione said softly. She didn't move, only looked at Ginny with worry.
"You're the only one who's ever hurt me!" Ginny said harshly. "Always proving me wrong, acting all high and mighty. You may know all the goddamn math formulas, but if we start running right now, who do you think would catch the other? If I wanted to hurt you, I could Hermione. I could make you kneel at my feet and beg for your life."
"Ginny- Ginny what are you saying?"
"I'm saying, if you run," Ginny didn't blink. "I'm going to hurt you."
"Ginny, put the knife down-" Hermione sucked in her breath. "I have to call your brother-"
She lifted the phone up slowly, as if not wanting to make any sudden movements.
"Don't," Ginny growled. "This is between me and you."
"Ginny, what have I done to you? Why do you say I've hurt you? I love you, you're like a sister-"
"Don't lie," Ginny shouted. "You hate me! You hate me and I hate you! I hate you so much! So much! I just want- I just want to kill you!"
Hermione swallowed hard. She knew Ginny was a fast runner, she had been part of the soccer team in high school but Hermione could run too. Could she run out the door? Could she risk turning her back on Ginny?
Hermione didn't want to believe Ginny could be capable of hurting her, but she didn't want to risk it either. Ginny looked so angry, her eyes flashing and her hands shaking. She looked a bit crazed the more Hermione looked at her. Were her eyes always that glassy looking?
When Ginny took a couple steps closer to her, Hermione turned around and ran. She didn't make it very far.
GInny practically jumped at her and tackled her down. "You're going to say sorry for everything you've ever done to me!"
Hermione tried to scramble off, "Ginny, please, you're not thinking clearly. You don't want this!" She managed to twist enough to face Ginny, who was holding the knife straight at her.
"I do, I've wanted this for so long."
"Ginevra, drop the knife," a voice from behind Hermione said. Hermione closed her eyes, nearly crying with relief.
Ginny looked up and smiled, "Dr. Riddle, you're here."
"Ginevra, drop the knife. You're not going to hurt Hermione." His tone was so sure, it was almost soothing to hear. It made Hermione think everything would be under control.
Hermione risked a glance at the door, there, with a gun in his hand, was Tom. The sight of the gun frightened her, but she didn't have time to wonder how he had gotten there so quickly and well prepared.
"I have to, I have to hurt her. I have to kill her." Ginny looked back down, her smile dropped. She raised her knife and it was diving down when Hermione closed her eyes and screamed.
Suddenly, the weight of Ginny's body was off her.
Tom had pushed her off. His own gun had dropped besides Hermione, but Ginny was still holding the knife tightly. They were only a couple feet away now, and Hermione scrambled for her phone.
Where was it? Where was it?
Ginny cried when Tom pushed her. Why didn't he let Ginny kill her? He was suppose to be on Ginny's side!
"What are you doing?" she cried, looking at him with tears forming in her eyes. "Why are you defending her?"
"Because she's not the one dying tonight Ginevra," he said softly. "She's too good for that. Now, this game wasn't as fun as I thought it would be, I'm afraid I have to put it to an end."
"But then- but you said we should-"
"Shh," he whispered, a smile on his lips. "We don't want her to hear us Ginny. What will she think of me?"
"You like her," Ginny realized, her heart shattering. She felt betrayed. The only person she could trust.. he had betrayed her. He had chosen Hermione too.
She raised her knife up to the side of his face.
"I'll kill all of you!" she shouted angrily.
Tom tried to keep her arm away, and if anyone saw them, they would think he was really struggling. He really sold it when he began to pant.
Hermione was so scared by now, she couldn't think.
"Hermione!" Tom shouted.
It sounded like a desperate cry for help to Hermione.
"Hermione, the gun! Please Hermione!"
Ginny struggled against Tom, shouting incoherent things. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate all of you! I hate you so much! SO much!"
Ginny was so focused on the man she loved, the one who had betrayed her, she barely heard the gunshots.
She shrieked when she felt the bullet pierce her shoulder. She had been pushed back too. She was on the floor, the pain enough to make her drop the knife. Ginny looked down and sobbed when she saw the gun hadn't just pierced her shoulder.
Blood was already gushing out of her neck, it covered her shirt and made her look up at Tom.
He didn't look sorry.
He looked down at her, his back towards Hermione, a huge smile on his face, and splattered in her own blood.
He looked so pleased.
The face on Ginny's face reminded him of the puppy he would kick around as a child.
The cry behind him, the one that came from Hermione, reminded him of the scream his mother gave out when she saw the skinned puppy in their backyard.
"Do you feel alive?"
"I feel like I'm fading."
Hermione was still shivering when Tom came back.
"It's all cleaned up," he said, climbing into bed with her. She was curled up, tears running down her cheeks, the same way she was hours ago.
"We have to call the police," she cried. "It was self defense, they can't arrest us if it was self defense."
"They can Hermione. They'll arrest you and give you life in prison. Is that what you want? Do you want to spend the rest of your years in a cell?" He pulled her into his lap, pushing back her hair to look at her face.
Hermione began to sob. "I killed her Tom, I killed her. She died, spending my years in jail is what I deserve."
"She was crazy," he whispered harshly. "She was going to kill me, you saved me."
"I could have called the police. We could have tried taking the knife away. I should have screamed for help. I should have only shot once. It's my fault Tom. I have to call the police-" She began to pull away from his arms, but he held on tightly.
"You're not calling the police. She's gone, I took her body away. If you call them now, there's no question about it, we'll both go to jail."
"Get her back!" Hermione shouted. "We have to call the police! We have to! The neighbors must have heard something, Tom we're going to look suspicious!"
"The neighbors won't say anything, I promise you. I'm gonna keep you safe Hermione but you have to do what I say," he looked at her intently. "Do you understand?"
Hermione cried. "God, I can't believe I did this. I didn't mean to. I loved her so much."
Tom laid her back down and hovered over her. "Calm down Hermione. Take deep breaths my love."
Hermione did what he said. Her breathing was uneven and the tears didn't stop running down her cheeks.
Tom rather loved the scene.
He traced the tears over her cheeks and smiled. "You're so beautiful."
"How can you say something like that right now? I did something horrid!"
"We did something horrid," he whispered. "You see that don't you? We're in this together, until the very end. We're bound together by this awful situation."
"Tom-"
"We're in this together Hermione," he repeated before bending down to press his lips against hers.
Hermione would have shrieked if she hadn't just witnessed something so terrible. Instead she pushed him back, "Wha- What are you doing?" Tom didn't like her tone, it sounded like an accusation. "I just killed someone-"
Tom backed away, shaking his head slightly as if in guilt. "I'm sorry, I just- I- I need- I thought maybe- I need to calm down... Do you have any painkillers?"
Hermione nodded, sniffling a bit as she sat up, slightly scooting further away from him. "In the bathroom. In the medicine cabinet."
"I'll be right back love," he said.
Hermione didn't question him, didn't even bother paying any attention to him anymore. Instead she began to think about what a terrible person she was. She had killed Ginny, but .. she was going to kill Tom right? She would have killed Hermione then too. Ginny wasn't sane anymore anyways, right? She wasn't Ginny anymore.
Even as she thought about it, Hermione knew no amount of reasons could excuse what she did to Ginny. It was unforgivable, it was monstrous.
Hermione felt herself shaking again before Tom came back. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close again. "Here, it won't help much but it might calm you down. We can get something stronger tomorrow," he said, handing her two white pills.
"What are they?" she asked, not recognizing them.
"Just painkillers you had in your medicine cabinet love, they'll calm you down, take them."
Hermione shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She felt Tom pull her face to him and grip her jaw slightly, "Open your mouth," when she did, he dropped one of the white pills in there. He looked back and took a half empty water bottle from her night stand. He didn't need to tell her anything as he handed her the water.
Hermione wordlessly swallowed the pills with water and continued to dwell.
She was pulled back to Tom, her head resting on his chest as he laid them back down.
Everything was making her feel so overwhelmed.
She could faintly hear Tom trying to soothe her over her sobbing.
"Everything will be fine."
"You're safe."
"We're safe"
"We're together now."
"She won't ever hurt you, no one will ever hurt you."
"You can trust me."
"We can't trust anyone else Hermione."
"You can't tell anyone about this sweet girl, this is between you and me. Just you and me. It'll be our secret."
Quickly, all his words began to just run together, Hermione couldn't follow.
"This is our secret. Ours. This brought us together. We're closer than ever now. I'll always be there for you, you have to be there for me too. Always."
She knew there was sound around her, but soon, she couldn't make out any words. Everything sounded like white noise, and when she tried to blink away the tears that were making her vision blurry, she realized all her tears were already gone.
"Tom" she tried to say, "Tom, I - I can't- Something-" Hermione tried to push through all the fuzziness, her vision was still blurry but if she tried hard enough, she could hear words again.
Her head began to hurt with the struggle.
"Sh, calm down," she could hear. "You need to relax. Relax."
Hermione listened to the voice. She relaxed, feeling the headache fade away with the rest of her senses.
She was almost buried under complete darkness when she felt something pressing over her.
"Tom," she moved her lips, but she was almost sure nothing came out.
"Your lure is the one thing he wants despite everything he knows."
The next day Hermione woke up to the smell of breakfast and the sun peeking through her curtains.
She looked around, feeling lost for a second, until she remembered.
Last night.
Hermione looked down and felt her stomach twist. The only thing covering her up was a blanket. She could see her clothes tossed to the side and reached out to grab them.
She searched the floor for men's clothing, but found none. She would have been relieved if she didn't just know something happened.
She could feel a type of soreness from in between her legs, one she was not unfamiliar with, and she could recall a few memories.
The pleasure, she assumed, had been so great, she had felt like she was fading in and out of consciousness.
"Oh gods," he nearly shouted. He was so close to her, his chest pressed against hers, his fingers holding her down tightly, his breath over hers.
"Tom," she heard her own voice whimper.
Carefully, Hermione stepped out of bed, pulling her clothes on and giving the room a nervous look.
Her head felt heavy, and she didn't understand what had happened except that-
"Ginny," she said the name quietly. She had killed Ginny. Ginny.
Hermione swallowed back a knot in her throat and began to walk out of the room.
"You should be resting my love," Tom didn't bother turning around. "I was going to bring you breakfast."
Hermione ran a hand through her hair, knowing well enough that it had to look insane by now. She looked at Tom, who was shirtless and turning an omelette over the stove. "My shirt was stained," he said, nodding to the sink. Hermione walked behind him, looking at the sink that was filled almost all the way up with pink water. In the sink was what Hermione knew to be Tom's shirt. "I'll try scrubbing the stains out again after breakfast."
"Let me help," she offered, her voice sounded different even to herself.
Tom looked at her and smiled widely, "Thank you."
Hermione was scrubbing the shirt, trying not to think about what the stains actually were, but it was difficult without a few tears.
When she heard Tom moving about, getting plates and utensils, she didn't ask him how he knew where everything was, but frowned at his shirt.
"The stains won't get off," she said.
Tom wrapped his arms around her from behind. "It's fine, leave that there, I'll try later." He pressed a kiss to her temple and smiled, "Come eat. I made us breakfast."
"The stains won't come off Tom," Hermione repeated, dropping the shirt back into the sink. She looked at her hands, the pink water had managed to tint her palms. "Tom," she whispered. "Oh god Tom."
"Your parents really drilled all that Shakespeare into you, didn't they?" Tom laughed softly. He pulled her away from the sink and grabbed some napkins to wipe away the color. "See? All gone from your hands. You're fine," he threw away the now pink napkins and showed her her hands.
Hermione breathed in heavily.
"You didn't do anything bad, you saved us." He kept a calm expression and managed to lead her to the table. "You did a good thing," he said, sitting her down, "Maybe if you talk about it, you'll feel better."
Hermione nodded, though she didn't know where to start.
Tom walked back into the kitchen, bringing back their food before sitting in front of Hermione, a small smile playing his lips. "Tell me how you felt when she was holding the knife."
"Scared," Hermione said. "It was.. too unreal. I thought I was going to die, and it was going to be a- the scariest thing."
"You're scared of death," he said, cutting a piece of the omelet with the side of the fork.
"I never thought I was. I just- I didn't want that death."
"Ginny was going to take everything from you. From us," Tom furrowed his eyebrows. "She was going to kill us."
Hermione nodded almost hesitantly, "She was."
"Here," Tom raised the forkful of food to her mouth, which she obediently opened. While she chewed, Tom continued to talk, "You have such a bright future ahead of you Hermione, she was going to end that for you. Do you think she felt any remorse for what she was about to do?"
She shook her head.
He paused and took a bite of the food.
"Tom?" When he looked up, Hermione continued, "What if- How do you know if you do feel remorse?"
She must have imagined the way his lip twitched upward. "What do you mean?"
"What if… when someone kills another person, should they know why they have to feel bad? Can they still be sorry if they don't know why they're feeling sorry? Are they a bad person if they cry, not because they did something horrid, but because they're scared of the consequences?"
Tom looked down to hide his eyes.
"There's no such thing as a bad person," he finally answered, looking up at her with a soft smile.
Hermione didn't understand his answer, but she didn't push it, instead she looked down at the food.
"Have some more," he said, bringing the fork to her mouth again.
"It's really good," Hermione commented after swallowing. "What did you use? I thought I ran out of sausage weeks ago."
"You had a few things lying around, I improvised."
"I think you're really going to have to give me a cooking lesson soon," Hermione smiled warily.
"I'd love that," he answered, bringing himself close and kissing her. He was pleasantly surprised when she kissed back.