Hermione watched Tom as they waited near the dueling stage. Outwardly, he was calm and at ease. He smiled. He chuckled at Millie's fussing. He was perfectly charming to the few brave souls that approached them. It was startling that he had no physical tells.
His internal rage bubbled away; so strong that he could not contain it. He entertained notions of eviscerating a particularly curious Ravenclaw. Hermione blinked and took a deep breath. The disturbing imagery was not helping to center her for the upcoming battle.
She narrowed her eyes when he glanced her way. There wasn't much she could do about his thoughts. She sighed at his quirked eyebrow. It really wasn't fair that he could look so adorable while plotting to murder innocent people.
She wasn't innocent.
Hermione went still.
I figured out how to send my thoughts to you. It's quite easy actually.
He smiled smugly at her. She could see that twinkle in his eye that she was sure meant trouble.
She wanted to lure me into giving her the information you refused the red headed menace and the Black witch. They offered her money.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Marietta Edgecombe was not the brightest raven in the unkindness. Perhaps she did need a lesson.
You want to hurt her as well.
She blushed. Wanting to hurt someone was not the same as having detailed fantasies of spilling their intestines on the floor. A simple hex would be more than enough of a punishment.
She also wants to get much better acquainted with me. Much better.
Hermione's fingers tightened around her wand. There were better ways to punish someone. Evisceration was not an option. The suffering wasn't lasting. The body would bleed out too fast.
I see your point. Death can be a mercy.
Hermione grinned and set a powerful hex onto her fingertips. She could feel it like a thick jam resting against her skin. There were times to be subtle.
Show me your subtlety, witch.
Tom grinned at her over Marietta's shoulder as she approached them. The Ravenclaw was helping to straighten his tie. Hermione dragged in a deep breath. It didn't need to be straightened. Tom was fastidious about his appearance. He was trying to provoke her. Encouraging this behavior was a bad idea.
"Granger." Arcturus Lestrange grabbed her shoulder as she passed the seventh year Slytherin. "He's the son of Merope Gaunt?"
"He is." She looked up into slate grey eyes. A frisson of fear chased down her spine. The Lestrange heir wasn't always predictable, and he'd give no thought to hurting her.
"He is the last direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. He should not be living in squalor with the likes of you." His fingers dug deep into her arm. The dragon hide kept him from drawing blood, but there would be bruises. "You will let him find his way home to us or pay the consequences. You do remember the consequences, don't you?"
She managed a nod. The memory of his crucio was seared into her mind.
"There's a good little mud blood." The Slytherin smiled.
"Let her go." Tom's wand pressed up into Arcturus' jaw. "I won't tolerate filth like you touching what is mine."
He shoved Marietta into her arms and smiled directly into her attacker's eyes. Hermione gripped the girl and felt the hex hit its intended target. She let Marietta scramble away. The confusion would mask her attack perfectly.
"Tom, you can't pull your wand on the seventh year prefect." She swallowed. "They can take it up at a prefects' tribunal."
"Take my wand." He thrust the wood toward her. "I don't need it for this."
"You are a fifth year." Arcturus grinned at Tom. "I'll let this slide. There will be no hard feelings when you join us in the dungeons. You belong in the house your family founded."
"I go where I choose." Tom smiled affably. "I do as I please."
Arcturus hadn't figured out how much danger he was in. She could see it in his confident stance. The fool smiled widely at Tom and nodded.
"No one threatens me or mine. A challenge is one thing. There's honor in it, but your not showing the proper respect." Tom stroked a finger along his own cheek. "You've done more than threaten her. You've hurt her."
"She's just a mudblood. They're good for only one thing." Lestrange smiled. "She screamed so loudly on the common room floor. She was my first crucio. You always remember your first."
"I don't." Tom tilted his head slightly. "The unforgivables are vulgar things. Hammers instead of scalpels. I like precision."
Tom stepped closer to the older boy. There was a parchment's width between them. The whole room fell quiet.
"Tornar sense pietat." Tom brushed his fingers through the other boy's hair. "Enjoy."
Arcturus flinched and rubbed his arm. He looked confused and stepped back.
"My ancestor didn't confine himself to a language. He worked spells in several. That one was in Catalan. It translates to return without mercy. It seems so simple, but the best of magic is."
"What does it do?" Arcturus frowned as his shoulder pain intensified.
"At random intervals, you will experience every bit of pain you have ever caused another. It will amplify over time until you go insane." Tom smiled. "If you have any masochistic tendencies you might enjoy the first year."
"Undo it." Arcturus snarled and grabbed Tom by the shirt.
"There is no counter curse." Tom looked down at the hands crumpling his shirt and raised a brow.
"There has to be." Arcturus shook his head and released Tom's shirt. "You just don't know it."
"Perhaps." Tom shrugged and smoothed his clothing with a nonverbal, wandless spell. "The muggles say penitence is good for the soul."
"Penitence? Muggles?" Arcturus backed away from Tom. "My mother will fix this."
The boy turned and fled, knocking into several members of their stunned audience.
Tom rolled his eyes at their response and turned to Hermione.
"May I have my wand back?" He held out his hand. Hermione could see the worry in his eyes. He was afraid of her reaction.
"It's not like you need it." She stroked her fingers along the wood. She bit her lower lip.
"I prefer using it." He shrugged. "It has an elegance about it."
"You have a bit as well." Hermione approached him and handed him his wand. "How am I supposed to top that when the Potter brigade shows up?"
Neville was the first to chuckle. Luna added in her bell like laughter next, and the others followed suit. Hermione smiled and pulled Tom closer to her side as their friends surrounded them.
They had never been so happy before she took the dueling stage.
She looked up at Tom and caught a fleeting smile. It wasn't cruel or feigned. He was happy. Hermione leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled as Luna nodded.
The normal sounds of a large group of students in a confined space filled the room. Hermione knew they were explaining away what they'd seen. It made them comfortable again. She took a deep breath and let it out.
Harry Potter arrived with his attendants. The Gryffindors were all smiles. The tall one in the knit cap trailed behind with his shoulders hunched forward.
"Why is he wearing the hat?" Tom examined the group with obvious care. "It does nothing but draw attention to him."
"Ronald is not the brightest of the Weasley brood. He will let Harry try to fix him before our next charms class. When you tamper with the charm, it changes your skin color. Pain will set in as the pimples grow and burst. His skin will get more irritated the longer he waits to go to Professor Flitwick." Hermione smiled and shook her head. "My monster hair led to a study of beauty charms. There are so many things that pure bloods take for granted. Most of them never even think to try and improve something."
"They are mostly lazy." Tom nodded.
"You can't hurt Harry." Hermione frowned as Professor Pettigrew moved through the crowd towards them. "The professor is off limits as well."
"They don't see a threat because they take their blood purity nonsense to heart." Neville shrugged. "They act like Harry's mom is an exception to the rule. Harry, too."
"Most people see only what they want to see." Luna patted Neville's shoulder.
"Hermione has to work hard to fit into their expectations." Tom sighed and nodded before looking at her. "You challenge it, so they slap you back into place on a regular basis."
"And all is right in their world." Hermione squeezed his hand. "I have to lose."
"Especially after the show I put on." Tom tightened his jaw. "I'm sorry if I have made things more difficult."
"It's so good to see you, Professor." Millie stepped in front of Professor Pettigrew with a warm smile on her face. "I was wondering if you had time to discuss the effects of gilly weed on kneazles."
"My gilly weed will not make your familiar sick." Greg rolled his eyes. "Tell her, sir."
Hermione schooled her features back to her public face. She glanced up at Tom. His bright eyed, innocent mask was back in place. Greg and Millie had bought them time to contain their emotions.
They are good friends.
Hermione squeezed his hand. He was clearly uncomfortable with the concept, but he was trying. It would take time.
"I will be happy to deal with your questions during my office hours." Professor Pettigrew smiled snidely. "Now is not the time. I need to speak with Miss Granger."
Millie and Greg stepped back with the appropriate murmurs of apology. The pompous man nodded at them with a benign countenance. He stepped closer, and Hermione could smell the odd scent of cheese that always seemed to linger on the man. It was awful.
"I see you are wearing that armor again, Miss Granger." He shook his head. "I informed you that it was inappropriate last time. I will have to fault you. Potter will have a five spell advantage."