Disclaimer in Chapter One
Author's Note: Hello, my dear readers. I did finish another chapter. As usual, let me know what you think about it. Any thoughts/complains just hit the review button ^^ And if, at some point in this chapter, we reach a point of 'moral ambiguity', please, do not blame the innocent author. lol
Special thanks to Mariico for beta-reading the chapter.
I'm also very grateful that so many people left me a review! Thank you, guys!
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Chapter Seventeen: Light to Die
Hermione gulped. At least ten wands were aimed at her and she could tell that their owners meant business. Hermione stood at the top of the impressive staircase of Hepzibah's manor and stared at the security guards who blocked her escape route to the front door. Panic strangled her as her, sadly limited, options pelted through her head. Surrender would get her arrested, and then probably executed for trespassing and stealing. She could engage the guards, but that meant a fight ten against one. Hermione nervously licked her parched lips as her gaze travelled over the brawny men.
She was ripped from her stupor as one of the security guards ordered sharply, "Palmer, Hartford, grab her!"
Instantly, the two guards closest to Hermione sprang into action. Wands held threateningly, the wizards approached her. Hermione stumbled back a step, confronted by the tall, muscular men. Adrenaline pulsed through her body and she reacted instinctively by bringing up her wand.
"Stupefy!"
The Stunner sailed towards the men, but Hermione didn't wait to see whether or not the spell hit. She whirled around and bolted back down the corridor she had come from. She had to duck as a barrage of curses followed her. Wood splintered and chips rained down on her. Hermione ignored it and ran, turned left, and then right, into the maze of corridors. The guards were hot on her heels. Curses narrowly missed her and instead shredded the expensive paintings on the walls. Hermione frantically brandished her wand and conjured a shield. She groaned as it heavily drew on her magic to keep the incoming curses at bay. Obviously, Hepzibah hadn't been cheap when she hired the security company. Adapting to Hermione's shield, the guards cast powerful magic to bring it down. One curse managed to breach her defence. Hermione gasped in pain as the curse violently crashed into her left shoulder. She gritted her teeth as she felt blood running down her back. Throwing herself around the next corner, Hermione temporarily escaped the attacks. Her breath came in short gasps as she raced down the corridor. It only took a few seconds for the guards to close in on her. With a clear line of fire, they instantly resumed their attack. Hermione knew she needed to buy herself some time. Almost stumbling over her own feet, she hastily turned on the spot and waved her wand.
Lacryma!
Thick, dark smoke swirled from her wand. It formed an almost solid wall in the corridor, separating Hermione from her attackers. She could barely see the men through the dark mist. One of them hadn't been fast enough to get away and got caught in the black smoke. Hermione could see him crumbling to his knees while his fingers clawed at his own face. A deep, blood-curdling scream followed.
Hermione didn't need to see more; she turned on her heels and continued her escape. Hopefully, the guards would need some precious minutes to take her magic down. She didn't even feel bad about having used Dark Magic once again. The curse was unequivocally dark. It aimed its attack not on the body or the magic, but the mind. That curse, similar to a Dementor, would infest the victim's mind with an absolute feeling of despair.
Hermione could hear the guards firing spells, trying to take down the dark smoke and free their comrade. She knew her spell wouldn't impede them for long. Still, her injured shoulder forced her to slow down. She was starting to feel dizzy, too. Shakily, Hermione stumbled down another hallway. The depressing dark colour of the wallpapers was interrupted by huge ugly paintings. A loud crack could be heard from behind and dread wrapped mercilessly around Hermione. Her curse had been taken down. Already, heavy footfall echoed through the passageway. The guards would catch up soon.
Hermione pressed on. She was passing an enormous painting of a medieval castle when something caught her eye. There was a strangely worn patch on the dark wallpaper right beside the frame of the painting. It was an awfully familiar sight to Hermione. A grim smile stretched her lips. It seemed luck was on her side after all. Her fingers shook slightly as they slid over the worn patch of wallpaper. She clutched the frame of the painting and pulled at it. There was a grinding sound as the painting obeyed and glided forward, revealing a hidden staircase. The steps, worn and narrow, were the stairs that the servants were supposed to use. Malfoy manor had been full of these hidden stairwells. No wizard wanted their Mudbloods to flounce around the manor, using the main passageways. Servants should be neither heard nor seen.
A curse crashed into the wall right beside Hermione's head. The security guards had caught up. Hermione sent a curse at them before she hastily raced down the narrow stairs, hopefully closer to an escape. Soon, she reached the end of the staircase and pushed against the door. It creaked loudly as it gave way and Hermione stepped into the light. She blinked and almost stumbled over an abandoned crate that stood on the floor. A sculpture of a one-legged hag stood nearby. It was vaguely familiar. Hermione had passed this spot not even an hour before. Her eyes shot down the hallway and found the huge double doors, leading into the drawing room.
The guards were blustering down the stairs, almost upon her. Hermione turned her head. The entrance hall was opposite from the drawing room. Very close. Just as she wanted to race towards her safe escape, Hermione spotted more security guards. They had stayed behind, blocking the exit. Now they charged at her. Hermione's heart hammered in her chest. She was cornered like an animal. As of now, there was only one way she could take. Her eyes darted back to the doors leading into the drawing room.
It was suicide, really. But she had no choice.
Hermione flung herself towards the drawing room. This was probably the worst escape route possible, she admitted to herself as she dashed towards the high double doors, curses following her all the way. Her attackers had joined forces with the men they had left behind in the entrance hall. Now, they all attacked with vigour.
Definitely not good.
Hermione sent a Diffindo at her attackers and was rewarded with a satisfying yelp. It didn't stop the barrage of incoming curses, though. The security guards were obviously desperate to prevent Hermione from entering the drawing room, in fear that she could possibly endanger the guests.
Too bad, Hermione thought as she grabbed the handle of the door and yanked it open. Instantly, the chatter and soft music hit her, telling her that there had been a Silencing Charm placed over the doors. She almost felt bad for crashing Hepzibah's party. Almost.
The soiree was still in full swing. Pureblood witches and wizards were standing in small groups, chatting and flaunting their latest, surely horrendously expensive, dresses. Mudbloods, in their blue standard uniforms, scurried between the guests, offering drinks and snacks. Wand grabbed tightly, Hermione ran into the drawing room, wild look on her face. She remembered the panorama windows on the other end of the room. That was her escape, the only one that was left to her. Either that or death.
She didn't really need more of an incentive.
Praying to every deity she knew, Hermione dashed towards the large window. Dimly, she could hear the shouts of her pursuers. They had stopped attacking her with curses, afraid to hit the unsuspecting guests. Hermione was grateful for that. Panting with exertion, she frantically wormed her way through the throng of people. She couldn't help but bang into some of them, even rudely pushing some out of her way. There were shrieks of indignation and angry snarls.
"Watch it!"
A wizard in green dress robes snapped at her in anger, disgust clouding his eyes as he spotted her attire and the red wand in her hand.
"Filthy Mudblood!"
He raised a hand, probably to deliver a 'well deserved' blow. Hermione didn't waste time to find out. Gaze fixed on the window, she hurried on. Her heart thundered away in her chest, and her breath came in gasps. In the corners of her eyes, she could see the black clothed men following. Thankfully, they were slowed down by the party guests.
The next curse that flew Hermione's way didn't come from one of the security guards. Maybe that was why she was unprepared. Taken by surprise, the yellow curse crashed into her side. Like a blade dripping with poison, dark magic cut into Hermione's flesh. A pained yell tore from her lips as the force of the impact catapulted her a few metres until she forcefully crashed into the floor. Tears of pain built up and black dots danced in her vision as Hermione lay on the floor. Her hand shot to her side and she felt sick as warm liquid seeped through her fingers, gathering in a pool around her. Only dimly Hermione heard the shocked cries from the soiree guests and hectic shuffling as they tried to get away from her.
Hermione gritted her teeth and blinked away the tears. She needed to get away from here. Groaning in pain, she rolled over and managed to pull herself up into a crouching position, wand held and ready to strike. Panic flashed through her, making her breathing hitch, when she found herself surrounded by the security guards. They formed a circle around her and they all had their wands trained on her. Hermione's own wand shot from one man to another while her eyes desperately searched for an opening. Strangely enough, the men didn't attack. They were apparently waiting for something. The dead silence was interrupted by the sharp clicks of high heels on the stone floor. Hermione turned her head. A figure, clad in a pink costume, stepped forward. It was none other than Dolores Umbridge, a sickly, sweet smile on her face, as she calmly walked towards Hermione's crouched form. Her wand was in her hand. Undoubtedly, it had been Umbridge who had sliced open Hermione's side. The witch raised an eyebrow as she scanned Hermione, twisted amusement lingering in her eyes.
"Now, what do we have here?" Umbridge said lightly, yet lethally cold. "A little Mudblood, misplaced?"
Hermione's lips rose into a snarl and the grip on her wand tightened. Umbridge simply smiled at her in that horribly fake way.
"You've caused enough mayhem, don't you think?" the witch commented, still with that overly sweet tone in her voice. "You're in enough trouble as it is."
Hermione mutely stared at her, anger and fear warring inside of her. Her wand was trained on the woman while her other hand held the copiously bleeding cut in her side. It hurt. Everything hurt. The security guards still surrounded her. The ten men were quite the overkill as they encircled Hermione's kneeling, bleeding form. Already, the bitter taste of defeat spread on her tongue. Nervously, her eyes darted from Umbridge to the window and back again. An evil smirk twisted Umbridge lips.
"No no," she chastised in a mocking sing-song voice. "Don't think you can get away."
The tone had been light, as if reprimanding a little child, but Hermione could see the promise of pain smouldering in Umbridge eyes. It made panic curl vicelike around Hermione's stomach. Umbridge's unforgiving eyes travelled to the wand in Hermione's hand, disguised in red. She shook her head disapprovingly.
"What a scandal. That is a real wand, is it not?" the woman sighed, disgust oozing from her tone. "A Mudblood with a wand? What is this world coming to?"
Hermione's vision blurred as she stared up at the cold woman. It was over. Tom's mission, Hermione's time at Hogwarts, her freedom… her life would be over. Her eyes snapped shut as panic threatened to wash her away into a dark place.
It's over.
So much pain and suffering. It all rushed by her mind's eye and she could see herself trying to stay alive at Malfoy manor. Trying to survive.
All for naught.
Hermione bent her head. Her arm fell to her side. The wand slowly slipped from her numb fingers. What was there to do but surrender and accept her fate? The evil smile on Umbridge's face widened as she saw the display of defeat. She turned to the dark-clothed men. Umbridge's voice was sharp, business-like as she ordered,
"Seize her."
The men obeyed and moved closer. Hermione was still crouching on the floor of Hepzibah's drawing room, bleeding and threatened by Umbridge and a dozen wizards. Slowly, she opened her eyes and raised her face, only to be met by Umbridge's sadistic smile. There was a hand on Hermione's shoulder, grabbing her painfully as she was brutally pulled to her feet. Hermione numbly stared into Umbridge's unforgiving eyes.
"How bothersome," Umbridge informed coldly. "It's actually my day off, you should know."
A disdainful look crossed the witch's face and she shook her head at Hermione. At that sight of contempt, a flash of uncontrollable fury shot through Hermione. It flowed through her body, seething hot, infecting both her mind and her magic. Hermione struggled against the hands holding her in place and bared her teeth at Umbridge in a snarl. Blood coloured her teeth red; she could taste it coppery on her tongue. It didn't matter. Hermione's rage burned everything away.
"Screw you!" she growled at Umbridge.
Umbridge didn't react. Unimpressed, she smirked at Hermione. Hermione's whole body trembled with a wild mix of anger and exhaustion. She could not… would not let that horrible woman win! The security guard still held her in a tight grasp, but Hermione fought wildly against him. His fingers bit painfully into her flesh, but she managed to wrench her arm free. Before the man could restrain her again, Hermione brought her wand up. Seeing this, Umbridge raised her own wand, ready to block any curse. Hermione didn't attack her, though. Instead she aimed her wand at the ceiling. The expensive crystal chandelier, which she had admired the first time she had entered Hepzibah's drawing room, hung precariously close to Hermione's position. She didn't hesitate.
Destruo! Hermione screamed in her head.
A bright, white light detached itself from her wand and dashed towards the chandelier. The curse slammed into the chain where the chandelier was fixed in the ceiling. Before anyone could prevent it, the chain burst and the chandelier fell. Panic ensued. Screams echoed through the drawing room as Hepzibah's guests scrambled away. Umbridge swirled her wand, trying to save herself from getting crushed under the chandelier's weight. Hermione wrenched herself free of the security guard's grip and stumbled back. The chandelier forcefully crashed on to the floor, only narrowly missing Hermione. Umbridge completely disappeared behind dust and flying crystal glass. Hermione was knocked backwards. A muffled yell of pain left her as she was thrown to the floor. People screamed and ran for the doors, panic on their faces as the drawing room descended into chaos.
Pain wracked Hermione. Already, black dots danced in her vision. Still, she pulled herself up. Her head swirled and she stumbled dangerously. Feeling quite nauseous, Hermione fixed her eyes on the panorama windows. She needed to leave. As fast as she could, Hermione stumbled forwards.
"Stop!" a furious voice sounded over the mayhem, accompanied by a curse which luckily missed Hermione.
Hermione turned her head and her breath hitched in fear. Umbridge, her usually neat hair in disarray, stood in the remains of the once proud chandelier. Blood oozed from a deep cut on her cheek and dust coloured her skin deathly white. A murderous promise of retribution madly glinted in her eyes as the witch whirled her wand. A dark curse dashed towards Hermione, who barely managed to sidestep the attack. She felt Umbridge's magic painfully crackling in the air as the curse passed.
Hermione whirled around and raced towards the window. More curses followed her, but over the chaos of Hepzibah's panicked guests and settling dust from the chandelier, Hermione managed to avoid getting hit. Brandishing her wand, she ran towards the window. A hex flew from her wand's tip. It crashed forcibly into the glass, shattering it completely. Hermione could feel some shards cutting into her skin and her dress, but she didn't care. Without looking back at the chaos she had created, she jumped through the window frame and onto soft grass, before she ran into the night.
†
Hermione could barely remember how she had escaped Hepzibah's estate and had stumbled through the dark towards the small Muggle village. She was breathing heavily, the adrenaline not having left her body yet. The calm of the village seemed to mock her. Every noise she heard made her jump in fright, afraid that the security guards, Umbridge, or maybe Aurors had found her. Her body shivered from cold and pain as she limped down a street. Her filthy blue dress was soaked in blood and Hermione held her side, which still oozed a steady stream of dark blood.
Hermione was too exhausted to cast an Invisibility Charm over herself. The only form of magic she could summon was a Scorgify. The blood and grime disappeared from her clothes, making herself presentable. The last thing she needed was for any Muggles to stop her to inquire about her disastrous condition. Hermione couldn't enter the B&B dripping blood everywhere. It might alarm the receptionist. Hermione chuckled softly, but instantly winced as a sharp pain shot through her side.
Damn you, Umbridge.
Angrily, Hermione kicked a discarded soda can from the sidewalk into the gutter. Cursing under her breath, she limped on. The next street looked vaguely familiar. Hermione squinted her eyes. The B&B wasn't far from here. Involuntarily, her hand wandered to the golden locket that still hung from her neck. She had doubted that she would ever see Tom again. Her fingers tightened around Slytherin's Locket. Against all odds, she had managed to accomplish her mission. A hiss of pain left Hermione's lips as the golden locket sent a vindictive jolt of magic through her fingers. She quickly let go of it, now annoyed by its hostile behaviour. Her temper piqued, she stomped towards the entrance door of the B&B.
At least Riddle now has his precious locket, Hermione thought acridly as she entered the small B&B. Indeed, a receptionist was still available. A teenage girl sat behind the table, a mobile in her hand, and was chatting quite animatedly. The girl didn't even glance at Hermione. Hermione didn't care either way but continued on to Tom's room. She moaned softly in pain when she had to climb a flight of stairs, her injured side throbbing viciously. Then, it was only a few more steps. She banged the door open and stepped into the room. Hermione's eyes swept over the room and found Tom lounged on the twin bed, lazily immersed in a book. It only managed to rile Hermione's temper even further and a glare found its way to her face. Tom sat up on the bed when he noticed her entrance. Hermione didn't know what she had expected upon her return, but the inquisitive expression on his otherwise emotionless face certainly did nothing to improve her mood.
"Well?" Tom prompted demandingly. "Did you get it?"
The fastidious tone of voice he used was enough to let Hermione's temper flare dangerously. She pressed her mouth into a thin line and glared at the dark-haired wizard, not saying anything.
"Hermione?" Tom's stern voice reprimanded her. "Answer me."
The commanding tinge was enough to finally push Hermione over the edge. Tom's frosty eyes stared at her, coldly demanding an answer. Without really thinking about her actions, Hermione pulled out her wand. Angrily, she slashed it through the air and sent a Stinging Hex Tom's way. He yelped rather satisfyingly as her hex hit him.
"Your plan," Hermione thundered at him heatedly. ",was shitty."
Tom rubbed his arm. He glared at her, outrage on his face. He was, however, inclined to ignore her outburst as her words sunk in. His brow furrowed and a sharp glint appeared in his eyes as he inquired,
"You didn't get it?"
Hermione ignored the anger on his face and sneered at him. Then she reached for the golden necklace around her neck. She grabbed the chain and pulled the locket from underneath her dress.
"Don't be silly," she snapped at Tom.
His deep blue eyes widened as they took in the delicate locket. Slowly, the corners of his mouth curved up into a smirk. He got up from the bed and stepped over to her. His blue eyes never left the golden locket. As if hypnotized by the trinket, Tom reached for it and roughly pulled it from Hermione's neck. Hermione wasn't at all pleased by the mesmerized look on Tom's face as he stared at the locket in his hand. He hadn't even asked if she was okay.
"Hope you are happy now," Hermione snarled caustically.
Tom only reluctantly pulled his gaze from the golden locket. He peered at her and informed condescendingly,
"You have pleased me. That's the only reason why I overlook your current misbehaviour."
Hermione felt painfully disappointed in face of his harsh words. She had only narrowly managed to escape death, but obviously Tom did not care in the slightest. Of course he would only be interested in the stupid locket. Hermione's fury drained, interrupted by dark spots of disappointment. This feeling of defeat reminded her painfully of how she had been kneeling before Umbridge. Helpless. Hermione gritted her teeth, waved her wand and snarled,
"Volnerare."
The borderline dark curse bristled angrily as it rushed towards Riddle. This time, he wasn't taken off guard. He didn't pull his wand, but just slashed his hand through the air as if slapping someone. An invisible force crashed into Hermione's curse, forcing it off its trajectory. Before she could react, Tom snapped his fingers and his strong magic forcefully slammed into her, flinging her painfully against the wall of the room. Another wave of pain shot through her hurt shoulder and into the cut in her side. Hermione moaned softly as nausea hit her hard. Tom's eyes shone in a dangerous light as he glared at her menacingly. Weakly, she leaned against the wall, fighting against her painfully throbbing body. She could barely focus her eyes and her vision danced in front of her.
"Hermione," Tom warned, a baleful touch of malice in his dark voice. "Do not test my patience. You will regret it."
Hermione didn't raise her wand again, knowing a lost battle when she saw one. As she stared at Tom's angry form, unbidden, Umbridge's sneering face swam to the forefront of her mind. Hermione's mouth thinned into an angry line as she glowered at Tom. She couldn't hold back a snippy retort.
"Of course, Master," she sneered with fake submissiveness, bowing her head mockingly. "How could I dare to bother you with my pitiable existence?"
Tom, who had once again been entranced by the locket, unfixed his gaze from Slytherin's creation and eyed her. Irritation crossed his face and he questioned,
"What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing," Hermione bit out scathingly.
She crossed the room and flopped down into the armchair. A groan left her as the cut in her side sent a painful jolt through her body. Her hand shot to the wound and she could feel blood seeping through the recently scorgified fabric of her dress. Tom observed her suspiciously, only now fully taking her in. When he saw her wince again, he asked tightly,
"Are you hurt?"
Now that Tom's attention had fully shifted from Slytherin's Locket to her, Hermione felt strangely insecure under his scrutiny. Abruptly, her previous anger dropped from her and left behind nothing but deep exhaustion. Hermione cautiously peered at Tom, suddenly feeling painfully self-conscious.
"I'm fine," she assured meekly.
Tom arched an elegant eyebrow at her sudden mood change. He gingerly put Slytherin's Locket in his pocket, and then he walked over to her. Hermione avoided his penetrating gaze and lowered her eyes. Tom stood directly in front of her, towering over her sitting form, and Hermione felt her Dark Mark smarting with his annoyance.Cautiously she raised her eyes and looked at him. He scanned her expectantly, his blank face expressionless.
Once again, the events in Smith manor caught up with Hermione. She didn't understand why Umbridge's cruel words, the whole situation, had hit her so hard. She had been confronted with vitriol against Mudbloods often enough. It shouldn't leave her so… lost. Hermione drew in a shaky breath of air. Her previous fury didn't return. Instead, she was left with a feeling of desolation and loneliness.
"Hermione?!" Tom's sharp voice made her head snap up at him.
He still stood directly in front of her, his blue eyes narrowed angrily. Hermione bit her lip. Then, completely disregarding Tom's irritation with her, she threw her arms around his waist and buried her face in his stomach. His body stiffened, probably as surprised by her sudden actions as she was. Tom didn't push Hermione away, though, and after a moment, he relaxed. She shuddered as she felt a hand on her head. Hesitantly, fingers stroked through her hair. She tightened her arms around him.
It was a long moment until she felt able to let go of Tom. An embarrassed blush coloured her cheeks as Hermione awkwardly unwrapped herself from him. She glanced up at him. An impenetrable mask completely obscured Tom's emotions. Still, his deep blue eyes were intently trained on her.
"Did you get hurt?" Tom repeated his question tersely.
Hermione swallowed thickly. Determinedly, she shook her head and told him, "It was just a little Cutting Hex. I'm fine."
"Hm." The suspicion in Tom's eyes intensified and he ordered, "Let me see."
Without waiting for her consent, he started to undo the buttons of her filthy dress. Then, he pulled it down, leaving Hermione's upper body naked aside from the black bra. She looked down at herself and saw the ugly slash on her left side. It was rather deep and dark red blood gushed from it.
"That," Tom stated softly, "wasn't a 'little Cutting Hex.'"
Hermione shrugged and had to draw in a sharp breath of air as the movement painfully disturbed the wound. Tom raised an eyebrow at her antics. When she merely gazed back at him, he sighed, reached for his wand and crouched down in front of her. Slowly, he waved his wand over her wound and Hermione could feel his magic on her body. After a moment he looked up at her and asked reproachfully,
"Sectumsempra?"
Hermione averted her eyes and whispered shyly, "Yes. I think so."
"Tsk." Tom clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Clumsy, aren't you?"
Instantly, her anger rushed back to her. All timidity forgotten, she huffed indignantly, "Well, if someone had factored in all scenarios, then I wouldn't have had to run for my life."
"What?" Tom bristled. "It's suddenly my fault that you are unable to follow simple instructions?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes into small slits as she replied scathingly, "Maybe your so-called instructions were useless."
To emphasize her statement, Hermione angrily crossed her arms in front of her chest. Unfortunately the movement caused the cut in her side to throb agonizingly. Hermione yelped in pain and held her side. She could feel the blood seeping through her fingers. Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and said tiredly,
"Okay. Let's argue later."
His gaze wandered over her side. There was a strange flicker in his frosty eyes as he scanned the bleeding lash. In the end, Tom raised his wand and slowly waved it over Hermione's injury. Once again, his powerful magic bristled over her skin.
"Ouch!" hissed Hermione as another jab of pain hit her hard.
"Don't be such a wimp," murmured Tom, occupied with his healing magic.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but he didn't notice as he was still bent over her injury.
"You know," she told him curtly. "I could hurl that curse at you, so you know how it feels."
Tom's eyes flashed at her. A sly smirk curled his mouth as he declared in mock outrage,
"A Mudblood cursing her Master? Why, I could have you executed for that."
For a second Hermione simply stared at him. Then she couldn't help herself. Tiredness and fatigue had taken their toll and Hermione felt light-headed. Her lips curved into a grin before she giggled. She was laughing hard, struggling for breath, as she teased,
"And then? However will you find the other two Founders' objects without me?"
Tom merely replied with a smirk before he continued to work on her injury. He also had a look at her shoulder and the many minor cuts all over her skin. It was a while later that Tom deemed his job to be done. A frown between his eyebrows, he once again examined the cut in her side. It had stopped bleeding and the wound had crusted over with blood, showing the first signs of healing.
"Okay. That's as much as I can do here," Tom declared.
He stood up from his crouched position and grabbed Hermione by the arm.
"Come here," he ordered as he pulled her up.
The blue dress Hermione had been wearing had slipped down to her waist. Tom took hold of the coarse material and carelessly pulled it down her body. The dress pooled around Hermione's feet and left her standing in nothing but her underwear. She blushed as she glanced up at Tom. He didn't care at all about her embarrassment. Instead, he pushed her towards the bed.
"Lie down," he ordered curtly. "You need rest."
Embarrassment still coloured her cheeks. Hermione felt unable to argue with Tom and simply complied with him. There was a sharp stab coming from the wound in her side as Hermione sat down on the bed. Cautiously, as not to disturb the injury again, she laid down on her right side. Tom pulled the blanket over her, and then he slumped down on the other side of the bed. Still fully clothed, he lazily leaned against the headboard and pulled the locket from his pocket. Hermione watched through hooded eyes as Tom waved his wand over the golden locket, fascination burning in his eyes. Ignoring her protesting side, Hermione slid closer to Tom on the bed. He was so immersed with the locket that he only noticed her movement when she huddled against him. Cocking an eyebrow, Tom stared at her for a moment. He didn't comment, though, and returned his attention to Slytherin's Locket. Hermione happily snuggled even closer. Tiredness tugged at her, but her gaze was captured by the shiny piece of jewellery in Tom's hand.
"Hm… can I touch it?" Hermione asked cautiously.
Tom arched one elegant eyebrow. "You had it for long enough, don't you think?"
Hermione had to stop herself from rolling her eyes and instead clarified, slight accusation in her voice, "Other things occupied my mind at that point in time."
Tom snorted at her retort. Unexpectedly, he didn't argue with her, but offered her the locket. Hermione hesitated a moment before she reached for it. Surprisingly, he really let go of it and the locket now lay in the palm of her hand. Once again, Hermione felt thick magic hovering around the locket, trying to push her away. That magic was quite impressive. She cautiously poked the locket with her index finger.
Tom snickered. "I wonder what Slytherin would have said if he had known that one day, his locket would end up in a Mudblood's hands."
Hermione ignored that odd twist in her stomach and quickly handed him back the locket. Tom returned to examining it, waving his wand now and then. Hermione watched him.
"So…?" he asked absently, never taking his eyes from the locket. "What happened in the manor?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows. She hadn't expected him to actually care. Cold shivers travelled down her spine as she thought of the disaster she had so narrowly escaped. Hermione nestled closer to Tom's warmth and leaned her head against his side, cautious not to disturb him. Then she told him – everything – about Umbridge's skewed idea of justice, about Hokey's craziness, Lucius' disgust and about the security guards who tried to hunt her down. Meanwhile, Tom continued to study Slytherin's creation and Hermione wondered if he was even listening. Maybe he had only asked out of politeness? Hermione didn't care. It felt good to talk about it all and so she continued her story. It was sometime between her mad chase through the manor and her blasting Umbridge away that Hermione's tiredness kicked in and sleep caught up with her.
†
Someone poked her in the shoulder. Hermione groaned and, not even opening her eyes, rolled on her back. The annoying poking continued. Hermione raised a hand and tried to swat that nuisance away, not yet willing to abandon her sleepy state. A melodious chuckle washed over her, but not even that voice could convince her to finally wake up. Her eyes stubbornly remained shut.
"Come on," the silky voice coaxed. "You've slept long enough."
Surely not, Hermione thought sluggishly. She had been asleep for what? Five minutes? As if enjoying to contradict her, that voice informed languidly,
"It's already ten o'clock in the morning …if you still want to call that 'morning'."
Hermione's brow furrowed. Was it really Sunday already? Reluctantly, she cracked her eyes open. Indeed, the window greeted her with bright sunlight.
"Ah, finally," the deep voice teased. "Awoken from the dead."
Hermione blinked then she raised her blurry eyes, just to fall into pools of icy blue. Tom smirked down at her. He looked decidedly unruffled and was still wearing his clothes. He had probably spent the whole night studying the locket, although Hermione couldn't see it anywhere. At the moment, Tom bestowed his complete attention upon her. Slick smile in place, he gazed down at her. Hermione frowned at him in suspicion. Tom's smirk only widened.
"How are you feeling?"
Hermione hesitated shortly and cautiously rolled her shoulder. Her body still hurt a bit, but she was feeling a lot better now. She glanced at Tom and assured,
"I'm fine."
He simply rolled his eyes at her, though the smirk never faltered. He raised a hand and tugged the blanket away from her. His gaze wandered to the cut in her side. Hermione could see that even over the few hours of rest, it had healed some more. Obviously Tom, too, was satisfied with her healing process. He slowly leaned down to Hermione and whispered seductively into her ear,
"We haven't yet celebrated the successful conclusion of our mission, have we?"
Hermione opened her mouth to question his dubious behaviour, but only a gasp left her. Tom slid over her, grabbed both her wrists and pressed them into the mattress right beside her head. All sleepiness abruptly dropped from Hermione as she stared up at him. Tom loomed over her, his knees encasing her hips. She squirmed uncomfortably as his steely gaze slowly wandered over her body, halting at her chest. Hermione only now realized that she was just wearing her underwear. She felt horribly exposed as Tom greedily drank in the sight of her body, possessive glint in his eyes. A blush coloured her cheeks and she pleaded meekly,
"Tom…"
His icy blue eyes flicked to hers and then there was an insidious smirk slowly curling his lips. Hermione could spot desire in the depth of his eyes and it scared her. She had heard so many stories of masters forcing their Mudbloods, violating them, and those stories now swirled through her head. It didn't help that Umbridge's cruel insinuations and Lucius' disgust popped up in her mind as well. Hermione tried to pull out of Tom's grip, but he just tightened his hands around her wrists. Hermione's heart hammered away in her chest. Her panicked gaze flickered over the room, searching for an escape. Finding none, she anxiously looked up at Tom. He was simply going to take what he wanted, wasn't he? The ominous glint in Tom's eyes told her so. Hermione's body started to tremble, fear building up. She closed her eyes and hoped it, at least, would be over fast.
Next Hermione expected a harsh grip, him forcing her body in position. That's how she had always imagined it. So, she tensed with surprise as she suddenly felt soft lips on her own, kissing her almost tenderly. Gently teeth nibbled at her lower lip, coaxing her. It was familiar. She had done this before. The last time, Hermione had even initiated that kiss and she had enjoyed it very much. Tom kissed her so softly and the familiarity of this contact managed to dim her initial fear. Involuntarily her body relaxed. Hermione even dared to return the kiss.
As Tom felt her responding to his ministrations, he released her wrists and his hands softly brushed along her arms. The tips of his fingers ghosted over her shoulders and collarbones, leaving her in goose-bumps. Hermione was so lost in the kiss, she barely noticed how Tom gingerly unclasped her bra and slid it from her body. A surprised gasp left her as she felt Tom touching her naked breasts. He used her reaction and slid his tongue into her mouth, greedily rubbing it against hers. Without her consent, Hermione's body started to respond to him. A pleasant fire ignited in the bit of her stomach, prickling excitingly. Tom's hands were on her breasts, kneading them, caressing them. He flicked a finger over her nipple, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. Hermione moaned softly. The fire that had started in her lower stomach now raged everywhere, tugging at her senses demandingly. Hermione desperately sought to satisfy that desire, but it only got worse as Tom's hands left her breasts to wander down her body until his fingers made contact with the hem of her knickers. Decisively he grabbed the material and pulled her knickers down her legs. He carelessly threw them away and they noiselessly sailed down on the floor.
Hermione lay on the bed, now fully naked, while Tom half lay on top of her. He was still clothed and a mixture of arousal and embarrassment raved through Hermione as she was exposed to his hungry gaze. Tom's fingers buried themselves in her hair and he forced her head back so he had access to her neck. His teeth left behind small bite marks as Tom's mouth wandered over her skin. His hand sneakily skimmed down her body, over her stomach and passing her belly button. Lust and arousal blinded her, but Hermione's desire was suddenly interrupted by doubt. She didn't know how far Tom wanted to go and while this was pleasant it also scared her. So, Hermione ignored the fire raging inside of her and whispered shakily,
"Tom?"
He stopped and looked up at her. Hermione shuddered at the intensity of his eyes. Her mouth snapped shut and very nearly she wouldn't have said anything. But then the nervous words dropped from her mouth,
"I… we can't do this."
"Hmm," Tom purred while continuing to kiss her neck. "And why's that?"
Hermione moaned softly as he gently bit her skin. Still she argued, "B- because I'm… I'm…"
Tom stopped his actions and looked up at her. There was a devilish grin on his face as he suggested innocently,
"Because you are a Mudblood? And I am your Master?"
Hermione bit her lip as she stared at him. Then she slowly nodded her head. The smirk on Tom's face only widened.
"You know," he scorned. "If you don't like it, you could kick me out of bed."
He didn't say any more, but again bent over her and placed a kiss on her lips. Hermione stiffened, not returning the kiss. Kick him out of bed? She certainly couldn't do that. As if having read her thoughts, Tom mumbled distractedly,
"I would curse you then, of course."
Hermione tensed further, not moving even a muscle. Tom's lips left hers and he bent up slightly to be able to look into her eyes. His gaze cut into her and if he hadn't already pinned her into the mattress, Hermione would have shrank away from him. It was then that a smirk curved Tom's lips and he mused innocently,
"Then again, you also have a wand and know a few curses. So, the situation could easily escalate into a full-blown duel."
Hermione blinked up at him, furrowing her brow as she saw amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Of course I would win," Tom supplied haughtily. "You would apologize for attacking me so insidiously. And we'd have the best make-up sex ever."
Tom lowered his head and placed a light kiss on her lips.
"Let's just skip the duel and move on to the reconciliation."
Hermione released a shuddered breath of air as she stared into his eyes. Tom smirked at her provocatively as his hand continued its journey down her belly. He moved slowly, lazily. Yet his touch evoked pleasant shivers to run over Hermione's skin. She trembled in forbidden anticipation.
Maybe she should stop him, but somehow Hermione couldn't bring herself to move. His hand wandered down between her legs. Tom's smirk got even more pronounced as his fingers danced over her soft flesh, finding the dampness. Hermione moaned as he started to rub the spot where she needed him the most now. A soft chuckle washed over her. Then Tom's lips greedily kissed her skin, quickly reaching her breasts. Hermione gasped softly as he started to use his tongue. He licked over her nipple, playing with it. Then he sucked it into his mouth and Hermione's breath became laboured.
Abruptly two of his fingers entered her and she screamed out, her voice hoarse with need. Tom quickly thrust his fingers in and out of her while his thumb continued to flick over that little nub. All the while his lips were still busy biting and licking her breasts. Helplessly, Hermione drowned in her own lust and she wriggled under Tom's touches. Her arousal reached a new high and she felt ready to burst.
It was then that Tom suddenly stopped. His fingers and lips were removed from her body and Hermione almost screamed out in frustration. Her eyes flashed to his face only to find a smirk around his lips.
"For being so reluctant," Tom stated silkily. "You sure are enjoying yourself, aren't you?"
Hermione blushed furiously as she looked up at him. He was right, too. She was his captive, held imprisoned by his touches and kisses. Tom smirked darkly as he saw her reaction. Abruptly he bent down to her and engaged her in a rather aggressive kiss. As he ended the kiss, his lips still touched hers softly and he stared down at her. He was so near, they were sharing the same air. His blue eyes were boring into hers and Hermione could see dark desire dancing in them.
"I need you now," Tom told her. "I'm not going to wait any longer."
The firmness of his voice sent shivers all over her body. Tom put a hand lightly on her stomach before he whispered an incantation. Then he grabbed her thighs and abruptly moved her legs apart. Hermione shuddered as Tom positioned himself between her thighs. Before she could voice anything, his mouth crashed down on hers, kissing her furiously. It was then that Hermione heard the sound of a zipper being opened. Lust still clouded her mind but a bout of anxiety hit her now. For the first time since Tom had started this, Hermione moved her hands to touch him. They trembled because she was scared of what was about to happen as she raised them and slipped her arms around him.
Tom's body now lay on top of her and he moved closer to her between her legs. Hermione's breathing hitched as she felt him against her entrance. She tensed up as he then slowly moved into her tight passage. It hurt and she whimpered softly. He stopped and Hermione released a trembling breath of air. She was very tense, only shadows of her previous desire curled around her body. Tom leaned down to her.
"Hermione?"
She had her eyes closed but felt how he brushed his lips against hers. It was a tender kiss and he didn't deepen it. Slowly she opened her eyes and stared up at Tom's handsome face. He smiled at her reassuringly, and said,
"You said you trusted me, didn't you?"
Hermione felt mesmerized by those blue eyes gazing at her. Tom's magic crackled in the air. It softly licked over her body and tugged at the Dark Mark on her arm, pulsing through her whole body. It felt quite pleasant.
"Do you still trust me?" Tom's velvety voice inquired.
Hermione's mind was wiped off all thoughts. The magic thrumming in the air and Tom's body so close by threw Hermione back into a world free of thoughts where only sensation, desire and lust reigned. She felt compelled to nod her head. The smile on Tom's face widened as he saw it. He bent down to her and kissed her, his tongue licking over her lips. Then he buried his face into the crook of her neck and breathed in deeply.
"You can always trust me," he promised her. "I'll take care of you."
One of his hands skimmed down the side of her body and grabbed her hip. Then Hermione felt Tom again starting to move into her, slower now. She moaned softly as she was stretched. It still hurt a bit, but it wasn't so bad anymore. Hermione's hands on Tom's back curled into fists, grabbing his shirt tightly. Soon he was completely lodged inside of her. He stayed like that for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his presence.
Hermione grabbed him even tighter as Tom then started to slowly move in and out of her. It hurt as she was stretched each time he entered her. But as he maintained the steady rhythm, the pain slowly diminished and turned into something else. Hermione's hands on his back relaxed a bit, as she came to enjoy that friction of his movement inside of her. A soft moan left her lips. As Tom heard that, a hand wandered between their heated bodies. His fingers danced over her skin, down between her legs and Hermione gasped as he started to stroke her little nub. A burning urge emerged and it got even worse as Tom sped up. He was pumping in and out of her faster now and Hermione moaned softly. He grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Her hips now in a different position, she felt him entering her even deeper, filling her completely. Aching desire raged in Hermione's body and she moaned helplessly. She desperately clutched Tom as she felt herself teetering on the brink of bursting. Her hands wandered to his hair and Hermione pulled demandingly at his dark silky locks, ruining his perfect hairstyle.
Tom seemed to know what she wanted. He moaned softly as he yet again sped up, his hands tightly holding her hips in place. Hermione could feel herself starting to fall over the edge. The next time he thrust into her in one stroke, she cried out. The demanding urge burst and turned into a wave of pleasure that broke down on her. Her whole body tensed as she was carried away by that wonderful feeling.
Pleasant shivers ran all over her and Hermione moaned contently. Her muscles were still convulsing around him as Tom entered her again and again. A moan fell from his lips as he thrust into her one last time, staying lodged deep inside of her. Hermione could feel him emptying himself inside of her. Then Tom's body fell down on her and he laid there for a while. His head rested next to hers and she could hear his ragged breathing slowly calming down while she felt him growing soft inside of her. Hermione's fingers were still buried in his soft hair. Now, though, she didn't pull violently, but stroked it gently.
As he had finally caught his breath again, Tom gently pulled himself out of her and rolled off her so he lay on the bed right beside her. Now that her climax had subsided, Hermione felt her lower body sting slightly. Her thoughts also came back to her and she remembered who exactly the person was, lying right beside her. Hermione wanted to roll onto her side and curl into a ball, but she didn't dare to move. So she lay there, eyes closed, not really knowing what to do next.
It was then that she felt a hand on her stomach. Arms slid around her, turning her so that she lay on her side with a body pressed against her back. His arms encased her, holding her gently.
"How are you feeling?" Tom's voice whispered softly to her.
Surprised by the tenderness in his tone, she answered truthfully, "I don't know."
He just pressed her tighter against him. Then she felt his soft lips kissing the back of her neck.
"I'm sorry those security guards hurt you. I didn't know they would be in the manor."
{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}
'The last sad hour of freedom's dream,
And valour's task, moved slowly by,
While mute they watch'd, till morning's beam
Should rise and give them light to die.
There's yet a world, where souls are free,
Where tyrants taint not nature's bliss; –
If death that world's bright opening be,
Oh! who would live a slave in this?'
- Thomas Moore
(*1779 † 1852)