Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling
A/N: I honestly thought I posted this some time ago, and I apologize. So, without much ado, here is the final part. Head's up - there is suggestive language and themes.
(I feel as though it's important to remind you all that this is essentially a really long one-shot; the ending is open-ended and abrupt. My apologies if thats uncomfortable for you.)
VIII.
"I dreamt of you, too."
Tom smiled, his fingers brushing slowly through Hermione's hair. As his eyes lowered from the ceiling to where she lay on her chest, he ran his tongue along his teeth, and Hermione swore she could see a thousand thoughts filter across his mind. She swore she could feel them, too. Her skin tingled in the warm air of her living room, attempting to feel the magic he always kept so suppressed.
"I know," he told her softly.
"You know?" She asked curiously, a smile playing on her lips.
Smirking, Tom lifted his hand from where it rested on her hip, and swept his arm over to the coffee table. He slowly waved his palm over one of the candles she'd left there, the flame dying out instantly. Her mind seemed to come alive, eyes widening and heart stuttering. It was the first time she'd ever witnessed his power.
He waved his hand over the candle again, the wick catching flame even before he'd completed the action. His magic washed over her as though it was always meant to be there. Even once he was done, she felt it against her, warm and curious. She wondered how he'd kept it so quiet all this time.
"I knew you were wizard," she told him, but awe was clear in her voice. "Ron told me, when we were breaking up."
He brought his hand back to her hip, his touch still hot with magic, looking back at her as though he knew something she didn't. "He was upset," he remarked, watching as she nodded confirmation. "He always hated when someone could do something he couldn't." Tom rubbed his chin, eyes suddenly distant. "He got me put out of Eton, you know?"
"I didn't know that."
"Imagine how different you'd be if you'd met me ten years ago."
Their eyes met, and she tried. She tried to imagine waking up to his face and knowing how he took his eggs or just how he liked his cock sucked. Rubbing her eyes, she asked, "Do you remember your first? Dream, I mean."
"Yes," he breathed. He relaxed further beneath her. "I was ten. My stepmother sent me to bed without dinner- she was a witch, too; but, she never told my father because he hated them. He had my mother killed because she was one, and he still doesn't know that his wife-," he shook his head tiredly. She looked away as his eyes went blank, resettling against him comfortably.
"Anyway, she locked me in my room. Took away all the books and toys. I hadn't eaten anything more than an apple since breakfast the day before, and I had nothing to do but sleep to distract myself.
"And I dreamt I had dinner with you. You must have been what, six or seven? I couldn't figure out why you were there, but you were. We were eating chicken tenders and baby potatoes, and you were talking about your parents' jobs and how they were never home-"
Hermione gasped.
He seemed startled. "You had the same dream?"
Her eyes met his again. "Yes."
For a moment, he seemed confused, obviously skeptical. But, Hermione said, "And we had pistachio ice cream for dessert. You hated it. It's still one of my favorites," and a slow smile pulled his lips across his face. She smiled, too.
"Oh, Miss Granger. How funny life is."
They watched each other carefully, both attempting to understand their situation. Hermione decided that he already knew how he wanted this to go, and she got the feeling he always got what he wanted. She didn't mind it. She had plenty to offer him. Plenty to gain, too.
Reaching for his hand, she drew hers fingers over his palm, feeling it heat up beneath her touch. "Funny indeed, Tom."
IX.
"What are you hiding?"
Hermione looked up to see Tom watching her with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean? About your research?"
He frowned, offering a quick shake of his head. "You have been distant since you arrived, Hermione. I'd nearly convinced you to move in last week. I'm only wondering what could have changed." As an afterthought he asked, "Did your clock start?"
She scowled at him. "That is such a cruel thing to ask."
Looking back down to the academic text she was reading, she drew her finger down the in attempt to refocus. The air in his study was suddenly too warm. At length, she said, "I've been thinking about what you said, about how different things would have been if we'd met ten years ago."
He offered a tight smile, but his voice was nearly nurturing as he breathed, "Why, they'd be perfect, of course. As they are now."
Hermione laughed nervously. "Alright," she swallowed thickly. "Alright. If you say so."
"You don't agree?" He reached over, hooking his middle finger around her pointer.
"Honestly?" She became distracted as his thumb brushed hers soothingly. "I don't…Do you know many others there are like us? That can actually do what we do?"
"Yes. I exclusively maintain relationships with magical people only."
Her eyes widened as she stared at him. "Of course you do," she said at length. "Don't you think that if people like us were meant to be together, like this, there would be communities for us by now?"
His eyes were blank as she stared into them, and he continued to rub her thumb distractingly.
She tugged her free hand through her dark curls before saying, "I don't believe we are possible, Tom. We are too powerful, too whole on our own, to be meant for each other."
He leaned closer to her, and she realized then that his gaze wasn't blank, and it never had been. She'd spent their time together thinking that his eyes were flat and black, empty and futureless. But, now that she saw him, truly saw him and his power and felt his magic like a second skin over hers, she realized that they were as vast and endless as the night sky. They went on forever, and it was so easy to become caught up in and with him.
She was already so tangled, so out of control.
"We are supreme," he told her, voice low and velvety as it reached her. "Divine. You said so yourself." His smile was so innocent, so believable. "You are no longer fated, Hermione. You are beyond the reach of mortal thoughts and ideas and experiences.
"We have the potential to-"
He stopped himself, lifting her hand to his mouth and pressing his lips to the soft skin between her index finger and thumb. "I forget that I can be too intense, especially to those who do not have much experience with other magical folk. You don't have much experience," his eyes flashed with a mixture of arrogance and anticipation. "Do you, Hermione?" His voice was even quieter than before, as though someone would be able to hear them outside of his flat.
He was betting on her not knowing many. He had plans and goals and- I exclusively maintain relationships with only magical people. Had he sought her out? Had someone pointed him in her direction? Or had he felt her magic in passing and couldn't help himself?
But, they'd always known the other was out there. Maybe the world had just been preparing them for each other…
Her face felt hot with confusion and awareness that contradicted itself, but she understood- she understood Ginny and Ron and the rush she felt by just being around Tom Riddle. He was dangerous in a way that she hadn't at all anticipated in that coffee shop, but she should have recognized.
His ease and his comfort. His small smirks and heavy confidence. His not being afraid of or uncomfortable around her in the way he should have been, the way most people were…
She swallowed heavily, still watching him.
It made her hungry and dependent. It was exactly what he needed her to be. Because he had a goal and a dream and –Ron had said something, when she hadn't been paying attention to him, something important she couldn't remember now.
"I know a few people. Definitely at least two. One…he," she looked away from Tom. There was nothing she could say without telling him everything, and it wasn't exactly time, yet.
Hermione rubbed her chest in attempt to soothe herself, her fingers digging into the curve of her collarbone every chance they got. "He wasn't a bad person, but he did very bad things, and when he was found out…they attempted to exorcise him, thinking it was demons, but it wasn't. He's since been institutionalized."
He was frowning uncertainly. "How do you know this person, Hermione?"
"He was the head of my church, before Dumbledore."
"You're talking about Father Grindelwald?"
She felt alive for the second time in forever. "Yes."
He went back to rubbing his thumb along hers, still frowning. "The Immortal Man."
"He was an incredibly talented wizard. Powerful and intelligent-"
"You consider The Immortal Man your friend, Hermione."
She sighed. "I don't know why people called him that. It was a silly legend. He is…Grindelwald can die. We can all die. There is no such thing as true immortality."
He wasn't listening. She squeezed his hand in attempt to get his attention, but his eyes were still far away when he looked at her. "Many people left the church when he was institutionalized," Tom commented offhandedly.
"Yes. I imagine they were all magical people, but I didn't associate too much with anyone outside of the Weasley family. I don't think they even realized he and I were so close."
"Imagine having that sort of following," he murmured. He shifted her fingers, wrapping his around hers and bringing her hand to his mouth again. He kissed her knuckles almost reverently between thoughts. "That sort of power and influence. People would just gravitate, Hermione. Could you-"
His eyes were large and glassy, and he blinked a few times in attempt to gain control, but it seemed to be in vain. He looked at her as though he were begging and pleading, but his words were so strong and sure that she wasn't sure what to believe as he said, "Imagine us. Growing and controlling a magical community in in England, in Great Britain- There are none. I know. I've researched.
"We could live forever and control everything."
Almost instantly, she realized that he was praying. He wasn't begging and pleading with her, but to whatever higher power he believed in. She pulled her hand from his, getting up and pacing back and forth for a few seconds. He'd told her that he'd prayed for things before, but she hadn't believed him. Now…Folding her arms over her chest, she looked back at him and said, "We could. We could live forever and control everything. But why would we want to?"
He didn't appear to understand the question, but she hadn't expected him to.
"You must introduce me to him," he told her casually. "I can't believe you hadn't mentioned that you know The Immortal Man, Hermione. You know my plans."
She frowned at him. "Stop calling him that."
"It's what he is, Hermione! It's…Oh. This is what you meant earlier. When you asked if I thought you were hiding something about my research."
Unable to stop herself, she winced, face tightening and body turning rigid. She mentally scolded herself for a moment, debating whether or not the truth was worth it. Nervously, she told him, "Yes. Immortality isn't what you think it is. You will be closer to death than you've ever been if you attempt it."
"We are all constantly just a moment away from dying, Hermione."
"Yes, well," she bit her lip, shoulder tense and stomach in knots as she thought over her words. This was it. This was forever. "You won't understand what I mean until you chance it. But it isn't a sure thing, Tom. You could end up like Grindelwald."
"He is a great man."
"His mind is so fractured that he can barely tell you apart from himself."
He watched her carefully, and she wondered if he would figure it out. If he would open his eyes and see her. Instead of impressing her, he asked, "We could live forever, witch. Be gods amongst men, even before our own kind."
"You cannot pray to god while attempting to become one, Tom."
"Can't I?"
X.
"Don't be silly," Hermione murmured, slowly rubbing Tom's thigh as they sat waiting for her friends. "They'll…like you."
Tom laughed disbelievingly, "That wasn't convincing, Hermione. At all."
She sighed, propping her elbow up on the table and pressing her jaw into her palm. They were so close that his breath fanned over her face with each exhale. It was sickening and disgusting and she loved it damn near irrationally –only, it wasn't really irrational. He had grown on her over the past few weeks. His ideas of expansion and community were inspiring; his charm was captivating and enchanting, making his handsome face even more inviting…making forever seem far easier than it ever had.
"They will grow to like you. They have no choice if they want me to remain in their lives. And Ginny is my best friend; not to mention, she's a bit fond of you from whatever happened in you all's past."
He grinned, slowly and secretively. She pointedly ignored it.
"They'll see that I'm good for you, I suppose."
"Good for me?" She questioned teasingly.
He gripped her wrist beneath the table, thumb rubbing slowly over her pulse point. She watched him carefully. Waiting. His blood pulsed hot and harsh, casting a dull lull over her body.
Her eyes fell closed appropriately as he said, "Of course." His lips brushed her face. "I am your equal, after all."
The entire world seemed to quiet for what felt like an eternity. It didn't drag and tire- it moved quickly, passing through her and imprinting on her brain so pointedly that Hermione found herself trying to get closer and closer to him. He let go of her wrist and slid his hand beneath her skirt, fingers dragging familiarly over her skin.
"Do you love me yet?" She asked him quietly.
His free hand tilted her jaw up, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek as his fingers circled closer to her core. She opened her thighs for him as he said, "Almost."
"I hope we aren't interrupting anything," Harry's voice filled the air of the hotel room- it was the most private place they could 'dine out' with little fanfare.
Hermione jumped up, hugging and kissing her friends before introducing Tom, who stood and greeted them stiffly.
"Sorry we're late," Ginny offered as they sat down, her eyes over Tom curiously.
He reached for Hermione's hand beneath the table, much to her surprise. "No worries," she told them. "It gave us time to catch up a bit."
"I was under the impression you all were living together," Harry injected. Ginny hit his arm in scolding.
"Not yet," Tom volunteered. "I'm working on it."
Their eyes met, each silently feeling the other out. Hermione bit her lip as their pre-ordered appetizers arrived with wine for the table.
"Well," Ginny breathed after a sip of wine. "You all look quiet cozy. So well-matched and familiar." She looked at Hermione with a small frown as she added, "So powerful."
"Thank you, Ginevra."
Harry attempted to catch her eye.
"It makes me wonder if we have the right people in line to be our King and Queen," she laughed jokingly, poking at her boyfriend in jest.
Harry laughed uncomfortably.
Tom only smiled.
# # #
"Why didn't you tell me?" Tom questioned.
"That they're engaged?" Hermione twisted her hair into a bun. "How was I to know? You've been monopolizing my time for weeks."
"That he is one of the people you know. That the royal line is magical," he told her tiredly.
"Oh…that. They are not. Only Harry. And you'd do well to keep that to yourself. I'd hate to have to kill you and…ruin all your fancy plans."
His smile was slow and indulgent, both at and for her. "Imagine," he leaned over the car's middle console and kissed her shoulder. His fingers, back on her thigh in the privacy of his Escalade, drew warm circles on her bare skin as they made their way back to her home.
"Imagine," he breathed again, looking at the road ahead. The light turned green. "You and I, in control of the King of England's brother…phenomenal."
She smiled, observing the flush of his skin. When he glanced over, she saw that his eyes were clouded with suppressed excitement and power.
"I told you the world was ours, didn't I?" He squeezed her knee familiarly before letting go and tugging his hand through his hair. "Didn't I?"
XI.
"I contacted Grindelwald."
Her brows rose as she watched him put his jacket on. Their eyes met as he zipped it up. He was searching her for something, and she offered him a knowing smile in reply, leaning against her foyer wall as she folded her arms over her chest.
"Interesting," she told him.
"Quite."
"Did you learn anything of interest, Tom? Something you didn't feel comfortable enough to ask me directly?"
He touched her face, a both possessive and distracting action. "He was loathe to tell me anything, but I'm sure you already knew that would be the case."
She shrugged. "Our relationship wasn't public knowledge. I wouldn't speak of it in any detail to anyone, either."
"Even me? Your mate?"
Hermione laughed softly. Tom shoved his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the front door.
"Don't talk to me about trusting mates."
He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "He did warn me against you."
She grinned at him pointedly, daring him to make the next move. He only waited. She unfolded her arms long enough to rub the back of her thigh, her fingers coming away sticky with their combined fluids.
"I'm sure that I've been telling you for some time now that we are not right for each other, Tom. We are too powerful on our own for anything good to come out of this."
"Like you and he were."
"You misunderstand. He and I were not romantically involved, nor did we aspire to have the majority of the things you want. He was a mentor, of sorts. We learned a great deal about ourselves with each other."
He was disgusted, if the half snarl on his face was anything to go by. "Why would he warn me against you?"
Hermione sighed tiredly. "You want to come back to bed to have this conversation?"
"I've been meaning to tell you that I'm not sharing a bed with you in this house again. It's sick that you even still live here."
"Where do you propose I live? This place is central to my work and my life. In a year, it won't even matter that Ron lived here…he was barely here, anyway."
"I've told you time and time again that my home is open to you, Hermione."
"You don't even trust me, Tom. How do you expect me to want to live with you, knowing that you're going to fact check everything I say?" She refolded her arms before saying, "I wouldn't be the witch I am today without my experience with him, alright? I…he knows exactly who I could be, I suppose better than I would know, if given the chance."
His eyes sparkled, body relaxing as a small smile formed on his face. Hermione almost laughed. "Am I that chance?"
She rolled her tongue around her mouth, far too obviously nervous. Tom didn't seem to mind. The idea enchanted him too greatly for him to care what it meant for her. She'd known for some time that he was interested in molding her into his ideal witch.
Biting her lip, Hermione said, "I guess we'll find out."
XII.
"I expected you."
Hermione dropped her Antigona on the table, eyes looking over the hospital room before landing on Grindelwald. He was holding something between his palms, watching her with a half knowing, half crazed smile on his lips. She sat down on his room's only chair and folded one knee over the other.
"Sooner, admittedly."
"Sorry to disappoint."
He opened his hands to reveal a small bird, grinning as she started in surprise. It turned to dust as it leapt from his hands in attempt to fly. She cringed, eyes closing briefly.
"That boy is no good, Miss Granger. No good at all."
"Yet you warned him against me."
"I didn't think he'd like knowing there is a power greater then his…"
"You told him-"
"Of course not." Grindelwald rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Is he the boy from your memories? Ah, yes. He is. Curious. Curious, indeed, that you all have found each other at such a vulnerable time in both of your lives."
Silence settled between them, as it always did. They didn't have much to say to each other now that he had little access to the outside word. His mind seemed to be eating itself alive, and Hermione really didn't want to hear too much of what he had to say in such a state.
"He wants too much, Mausi. You don't need such things."
She plucked a piece of lint off of her jeans. "He wants to get you out of here. Legally or," she shrugged, her words hanging in the air.
He frowned, getting up from his bed and pacing around the room. The pale coloring of his hospital uniform made him appear sicklier than he was. As he paced the room, he murmured, "How curious, indeed."
"I, of course, have reservations toward such an idea."
"He doesn't know about us, I suppose. I am very fond of you, Miss Granger, though not in the way he is, and I am not sure he will ever understand the…fragile complexity of our relationship."
"He wants it," she breathed, watching him with widening eyes.
"I know. He asked if it was true that I am immortal."
"I didn't tell him."
"I know. He is…he is an intelligent man, but his interest in everlasting life is childish. He doesn't know what it means. He refuses to see," he gestured between them casually.
Upon studying the look on her face, his brows rose. "He doesn't know." He crossed the room and leaned against the table, next to her.
"I told you I didn't tell him. Of course he doesn't know."
A passing nurse peered into room, but said nothing after observing Hermione's relaxed state.
"Do you want him to?"
"I never expected my life to turn into this. One second things were perfect, and then suddenly he and I are breaking bread and I'm divorcing Ron and-" She tugged her hands through her curls.
"I expected to grow old and for him to die and for me to," Hermione bit her lips to keep from saying too much. "You know I am not used to magical people in my life. I am not…I don't know how to act around them."
As though he hadn't heard her at all, he said, "You could offer him the world. He will be indebted to you; you know that. It would…you will have the control you desire if you do."
"The control I desire?" She questioned. "I don't desire that power over anyone."
Grindelwald laughed. "Stop lying to yourself."
She scowled at him. "A moment ago you were telling me he was no good. If you wanted to get out of you, you just have to say the world, old man. I don't need Tom Riddle to make that happen."
"I want to know his plan."
"You all didn't share that in your little circle of trust the other day?"
"No, no. Not exactly."
"He wants to start a world for people like us. He only associates with magical people. He is an elitist; like his father, though I'm not sure he realizes it."
"An immortal leader. Dangerous indeed. He won't last."
She took offence to that, but resisted saying anything.
"Even if he lives, he will consume himself." Grindelwald patted her shoulder. "He wants too much, Miss Granger. You mustn't let him consume you."
"Then I can't give him anything."
"You're stronger than that. I know it."
They sat in silence until darkness fell over the room. Another nurse turned the light on when she realized he wasn't alone in his room.
"Mausi."
"Hmm?"
"I need to get out of here, Mausi. Get me out of here. I will listen to you this time. Just get me out of here."
She looked up at him, wrapping her hands around his as she observed his eyes. They were shiny with insanity only wards such as these could cause. He would be no good to her anymore.
"Okay," she told him. "Prepare yourself. I'll be back in a week."
"With the boy?" He asked, oddly hopeful.
"If that's what you want."
He nodded.
"I hadn't realized you wanted a private world for people like us."
"There is a lot I didn't share with you, because of your morals." He squeezed her hand as he got up. "I can only hope that you are more relaxed now. I much prefer you to that boy."
"Yet you want me to bring him."
He shrugged. "My interest in him is beneficial to the both of us."
She kissed his forehead and left.
# # #
"What do you want him for?"
Hermione sat down on the other side of the desk, watching as Tom graded papers. He was silent for a long time, the scratch of his felt-tip pen against paper the rooms only sound. She watched him curiously, observing the strength of his shoulders and the sharp curves of his cheeks. Now that she knew him, his confidence was no longer a quiet extra she noticed a few conversations in; it was in her face now, pressing against her and forcing her to acknowledge his power and ability.
The only thing endearing now was the hunger in his eyes- and the mysterious shadows in them every now and then, equally dangerous and enchanting.
After nearly ten minutes, he finally said, "Collateral."
"For what?"
He sighed, lifting his pen off the page so it wouldn't bleed through. In his pause, he murmured, "You don't really want to live forever," without looking up from his work. He set his pen back down and continued grading.
Hermione very nearly choked in her attempt not to laugh. Her voice was scandalized as she asked, "What, pray tell, gave you that impression?"
"You wouldn't ask such a questions. Also, you don't display any desire for it, Hermione." He was tired, she realized as his eyes lifted to hers. "Now that I know you and Gellert Grindelwald were close, I can assume that it is your passing interest and his desire."
She rubbed her eyebrow. "You know what they say about assuming things, Mr. Riddle."
Tom rolled his eyes. "He had a following of possibly hundreds, even thousands, considering his travels. I would be foolish to start a world without someone such as Grindelwald in my court. Connections. Insight. Knowledge, I am loath to admit, my age doesn't allow me yet."
She crossed her legs and smoothed her hands over her skirt, "All you've to do is ask, you know, and I'd give you the world."
He smiled, because he didn't believe her, and said, "Wasn't it I that promised you that?"
She hummed in recollection. "My point is that you don't need him with you to get what you want out of this life. And, I met him tonight. He is not the man he was before. I told you that, before. I don't know how helpful he will be to you."
"Just to have him will be beneficial. You will see."
"Beneficial," she repeated lowly. It was the second time tonight she'd heard the world in reference to the web they were all suddenly trapped in.
"Yes. You will benefit from this greatly, witch. I promise."
"You promise what, Tom?"
He frowned, looking at her as though he couldn't believe the question. "I promise you power, Hermione. Immortality."
She licked her lips, fighting with herself. After a second too long, she asked, "And why would you promise me that?"
"Because we are fated, regardless of whether or not your clock works, and I know what you want."
"I thought that about Ron and I, you know, and you see where that got me."
"What is that supposed to mean, Hermione? You plan on leaving me once I've gotten what I want?"
"Oh," she smoothed her hands over her skirt again, a smile on her lips. "You've noticed that I'm good at that, have you?"
"Don't be so foolish, witch. It doesn't suite you."
Hermione picked at her nail, a small smile on her lips, "What do you want more? Immortality or me?"
His voice was confident as he said, "I want you both. Equally."
She met his eyes again. "This is the third time I've found myself in this situation, Tom. I am trapped in this cycle of the same old love story-"
"You said you weren't interested in Grindelwald in such a way," he commented quickly, eyes quick to turn skeptical of her. "And there was no one before Ron."
Hermione made a gesture with her hand as if to flick away his concerns. "You can love in many ways, Tom. Perhaps your childhood was to cold for you to understand that." She smiled prettily at him, watching as his distrust of her continued to grow. "I told you that you don't know me yet. It seems that logic is beyond you when there is something you want. That isn't such a remarkable trait in someone who wants to rule the world," she teased him, getting up from her chair and rounding his desk.
She leaned against the table beside him, fingers curving over the edge of the wood. "It's okay, though, because I can see beyond present inconveniences and desires. We will be good together, Tom."
He considered her for a moment. "Where has this witch been since I met you?" He questioned, pushing his things away from him and pulling her so that she was between his legs. His hands remained at her waist, a thumb rubbing circles on her hip. "We could have saved so much time, love."
She only smiled at him, touching his jaw fondly. "I am very good at getting great men where they want to be. You just have to promise that you won't stop listening to me once you get there."
He grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart, "You seem to forget that it is you and I forever, Hermione. I have never wanted anything but eternal life, the way I want you."
"Good," she told him, "because you have me. And, if you've yet to notice, I can offer you immortality."
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! If there is anything you need clarity on, please feel free to ask. I may end up posting an epilogue or something (bc I am itching to show you all what happens...). I also really love constructive criticism, this has been a tough year for my creativity wise, so it's all beneficial. Anyway, again, thank you so much for reading. See you all again soon (: