A/N: Hey guys... Um, sorry about the wait. For some reason this chapter was much harder to write. Well it was harder in the figuring out what needed to happen in this chapter, than actually writing it. Though, I picked a bad time to get a life and so a little bit of the real world got in the way, as well a few technical difficulties such as my computer falling apart at the seams. Literally.
Anyway, after an in-depth discussion with my best friend and fan fiction extraordinaire, I have a much better idea where this is going. For this chapter, I wanted the audience (you guys) to understand that this Tom still has a dark/evil side, however, he doesn't rely on it like the other Tom did. Here he has Hermione to 1. keep him occupied and too busy to plot, 2. give him unconditional love so that he doesn't feel like the only way to get a reaction is to lash out, and 3. he actually loves her so he doesn't want to disappoint her, and evil plots would definitely disappoint her.
Feel free to express any concerns about his OOC-ness, because I assure you I have a reason and an answer.
Sorry that was so long, I'll try to keep the AN's shorter after this one. As always, please review, it helps so much.
February 15, 1942
The day after Valentine's Day found Hermione and Tom relaxing on their shared couch in the Room of Requirement after classes.
"So... you haven't told me anything. How was your date? Did she kiss you? Did you want her to? You haven't told me anything about her." She whipped out a pout, guaranteed to make him spill.
As she predicted, the pout defeats his reticence every time. "Merlin, Hermione. Why do you want to hear about it anyway? You had your own date to go on with that Corner boy. Shouldn't you be focusing on your own night?" He said as he sat down by her in front of the fire on their shared rug.
"No, I shouldn't." She snapped off, uncharacteristically short with her best friend.
"Hmm. That bad, huh?"
"No! … Well, yes."
"And what happened?" He asked her softly, but with an undercurrent of steel. She would have to reassure him, or Vance Corner would mysteriously wind up in the Hospital Wing in the next few days.
"Nothing too terrible. We just... didn't click."
"You just didn't click? You just didn't click? What does that even mean?"
"It means that our personalities are not suited for romance as well as they are for friendship." Tom just shot her a look like she wasn't fooling him. "Oh alright, he's a pig. The second we sat down in the Three Broomsticks he was all over me, trying to kiss me, trying to touch me. Frankly, it was disgusting."
Tom's face hardened and his eyes practically shouted his hatred for 'the Corner boy,' as he called him. "That rat bastard! If he thinks he can get away with that behavior with you, he has no idea what's coming for him! I'll tear him apart!"
"No you won't. You are going to leave it alone." She said as she poked a finger in his chest. "I have already handled it, his bollocks will be sore until next Christmas!" Tom sniggered. "And as far as you are concerned, that is the end of it."
"I don't like that that git thought he could treat you like that. The whole school knows you are under my protection."
"Under your protection? Tom Riddle! When have I ever acted in a manner that suggested I could not take care of myself?"
"That's not it. It's not that I don't think you can take care of yourself, because Merlin knows that you can, it's just... I don't have anyone else. If something happens to you, then I have absolutely no one." His serious tone then turned teasing. Hermione knew he was trying to distract her, but sometimes he was just so adorable that she let him. "So, you can see, that I'm really just doing this for myself. It really has little to do with you. You should stop thinking that it's all about you. That's pretty selfish, you know."
She met his teasing grin with a blank face. "You are ridiculous. I don't know why I put up with you."
"I do."
"Oh yeah? Well then explain it to me, because I've forgotten."
"I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure it's 90% because of my body."
She couldn't help it. Her cold mask dissolved and she burst into laughter. Tom tried his hardest to look suitably miffed.
"You didn't have to laugh. I've been growing into myself, I'll have you know."
"Yes, I know... and so do all the girls in the top four years. They stare at you, you know."
He shook his head in a cross between embarrassment and horror. "Oh yes, the walking whale, Allison Bulstrode looks at me like she wants to eat me." He paused for dramatic effect. "Literally."
"You are so predictable. I saw that one a mile away."
"Yeah and Bulstrode can see me from a mile away."
"Surely it's not all bad, though. Some of them are cute."
"So that's why your date went so badly. You were too busy looking at my fan club. It's okay, Hermione, I'll still love you if you want to take up with one of them. It'll be weird, but I'll cope. For you."
"Ew Tom!" She hit him in the shoulder. Surely he had a permanent bruise there from all the times she hit him in that exact spot. "You know that wasn't it."
"Yes, I know. Besides, I've seen you looking at me. All that lust behind those brown eyes centered on me."
"I think I'm going to hit you again." And she did. "Anyway speaking of dates, Mr. Change-the-topic-quickly-and-hope-no-one-notices, how was yours?"
Suddenly the laughing Tom from before morphed into sulky, something-went-terribly-wrong Tom.
"It started out great. We went around Hogsmeade, I bought her some chocolate form Honeyduke's, just like you suggested and we had taken the path around the Shrieking Shack." He looked far away, lost in his own thoughts.
"And?" Tom startled out of his reverie, a little too quickly. Tom always was a drama queen, even in the alternate future. He soaked up attention, but only when it pleased him.
"And, well, things started to go down."
"Like you started fighting?"
He smiled lasciviously, "No, more like she started going down."
"Oh, gross Tom! Why would you tell me that?"
"You asked."
"No I didn't!" She exclaimed.
"Yes you did. At the beginning of this conversation you asked if she kissed me, you didn't ask where she kissed me."
"You are so gross. Anyway, how did it end up badly, if things had gotten that... serious?"
He shrugged, the change in conversation not bothering him a bit. Ever since the Slughorn fiasco last year, Hermione had noticed that he shared almost everything with her. Sometimes too much. This was definitely one of those times.
"Well after we were done doing that, we went back to the Three Broomsticks. I assume you had already fled the scene by then. Anyway, Alyse started talking about how we were Hogwarts' newest, hottest couple. And I had no idea what she was talking about, because I just asked her on one date, not to be my fiancee or whatever."
"You did ask her on Valentine's Day, Tom."
"So? That doesn't mean I want to marry her, I just liked her body."
"Tom!"
"What now?"
"You have got to stop being such a git. Basically you are just as bad as Vance Corner right now."
"That's not true! I would never, ever, force a woman to... you know. Alyse did that freely. It was her idea, actually."
"I know you would never force anybody, Tom. But you led her on and in some ways that is just as bad as the creep I went with."
"I disagree. My mother basically forced my father, you know? Using that love potion to manipulate his feelings, that was low. Then when she found herself pregnant she told him, and he abandoned us." Tom sighed. He rarely talked about his family, so just by this alone Hermione knew he was serious about his position in this debate. "In some ways I can't even blame him for splitting. She forced him to act against his will, took the choice from him, and then just expected him to love her."
"Your father still deserves some of the blame, I think. If you had been in that position, say some girl did the same thing to you and became pregnant, and died at the child's birth would you just leave it for some strangers who could care less to raise?"
His normally stormy eyes turned hurricane-level stormy. "No! I would never make a child go through that."
"I know you wouldn't. Because you are capable of great emotion, Tom." He scoffed. "And that is something to be proud of. You are capable of great love, and that is a gift. You give out your love very selectively, but when you do... you do it all encompassing."
"Hermione, you are the only one in the world that I love."
"So then I would know, wouldn't I?"
"Yeah, I suppose you would."
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Hermione punched the same spot on his arm again.
"Ow! What was that for you banshee?"
"You changed the subject. Again. I don't think you meant to, but you did. Now finish your story. You were just coming back into Hogsmeade when Alyse began talking about you two being the bee's knees." Hermione laughed silently at her own word choice. She had successfully integrated into the '40's culture, but using phrases like 'the bee's knees' still made her laugh.
"You still didn't have to punch me." She shot him a glare. "Oh fine. She started going off about how we would study together every night and yadda yadda yadda. But then I told her that I study with you, and she just got mad. She said that if she was going to be my girlfriend that I would have to pick her over you. I asked her why I had to stop being friends with you, why couldn't I just date her and study with you? And she said that she couldn't do that, that I would have to choose. So I looked at her and I said, 'Honey, if it comes down to it, I pick her over anyone every single time. She is irreplaceable, and you are not.'"
Hermione smiled, a warm feeling in her stomach so deep she felt that it might just be her soul. "You really said that?"
"'Mione. Don't be stupid, you know I would pick you. For Merlin's sake that was just our first date! Who did she really think I was going to pick? Some easy bint, or the girl who's been by my side for six years? Easy choice."
"Thank you. I would pick you over anyone else too."
"I know. Besides, how would she possibly keep up with me while we were studying? I bet she can't even Occlude."
"To be fair, not many people can."
"True. But not many people can become Animagi in their sixth year, either. Want to romp around the grounds?" He stood up, offering his hand to her, ever the gentleman.
"I would love to, kind sir." and she accepted his help standing up.
The two friends had begun nighttime strolls around the castle and its grounds since the very first time the both of them had transformed together. Hermione, being a natural at Transfiguration, had made the change first, but Tom followed in the very next session, his form bringing much surprise to the both of them.
Both of their animal forms liked to roam around so they would sneak out onto the grounds using the Marauders' secret passageways. As usual, they had no difficulty getting into the cold night air. It being February, the air was freezing. Hermione was about to change when she glanced over toward Hogsmeade. A large column of thick, black smoke spiraled up, only made visible by the orange flames that produced it.
"Tom! Tom, look!"
"What? Where?" He said, he had to come back from mid-change.
"It's Hogsmeade! See all that smoke? Either they're having a bonfire, or it's under attack!"
For some unknown reason that Hermione would contemplate later, she looked to Tom for instructions. The same quality that had the women of Hogwarts looking at him all the time (apart from his looks) flared in this instant. His eyes had never been so filled with energy, and his back had never been so straight. He almost looked regal, like he was born to be in these intense situations.
He swung his head from the village over to her, his gaze reassuring her. His countenance showed pure determination. Yes, Hogsmeade was in good hands.
"You go and get help, I'll try to hold them off!"
"But—"
"No, Hermione, don't argue. I'm better at Defense Against the Dark Arts than you are. Besides, my animagus form will come in handy here. You know that, I know you know that. Just trust me, and go get help."
She held his eyes for a second, in defiance. But hearing his logic rolling around in her head made her concede. She grabbed his hand, put it to her cheek and whispered softly, "Please. Please be safe. I'll be back with reinforcements soon."
"Promise."
And with that, he took his warm hand from her freezing cheek, and ran off at a sprint. She watched him go for about ten seconds and only turned away when she saw him change, his orange and black stripes reaffirming her confidence in him. But not nearly as much as his two inch teeth.
…...
Back through the passageway they had used to escape the castle, Hermione sprinted faster than she had ever run. A sly fox shot through the twists and turns of the passage bent on making it to Dumbledore's office as soon as yesterday.
While running down the Transfiguration corridor, Hermione briefly considered sending a patronus and berated herself for not thinking of it before.
But, then again, Dumbledore himself tweaked the Patronus charm to talk, and he didn't figure that out until the mid 1970's at least. Besides, by now she was already seconds away from his office.
It wasn't until she was banging furiously on his door that she realized he might not be there. What professor is in their office at midnight, anyway?
No time. No time for this. Patronous, it is. I have to help Tom. I'll deal with consequences later.
Mustering up all the positive thoughts she could, she shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Tom's face from earlier that day, joking about his horrible date flashed through her mind the second the last syllable slipped from her tongue.
A tiger tore from her wand, a roar leaving its mouth. Surprised, but recovering with alacrity, Hermione quickly whispered a message to it and followed its form with her eyes as it slipped through the office door. Deciding that she had no time to wait for Dumbledore and answer a million questions, she left to re-join Tom. A red fox burst through the halls towards the secret passage inside the witch's hump that Harry had found in his third year.
The Slytherin prefect found that while she intellectually knew that this was the quickest route to Hogsmeade, it felt like the longest trip she had ever undertaken. It was so surreal. Tom was out there in a very dangerous situation, fighting back Grindelwald's finest, and she was crawling through a tunnel, decidedly not helping him. The thought disgusted her, but it renewed her depleting energy. The faster she got there, the faster she'd be of help.
Two years of her life later, she was lifting the trapdoor beneath Honeyduke's. She pulled herself up and quietly sneaked up the stairs, her wand in a death grip.
The store was empty and dark. Keeping low, she made her way to the door. Through the door's window, she could see that several of the buildings were, indeed, aflame. Luckily, Honeyduke's was on the other side of the village from the action.
She stepped out of the building, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. She followed the screams to the middle of town, where to her horror, Tom was battling five wizards.
All her escapades with Harry and Ron had not prepared her for this moment. Battling Voldemort himself and his army of Death Eaters had not prepared her for this terror.
Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Fighting to keep the fear at bay, she focused on all that had made her a Gryffindor in the first place. She let her love and her loyalty to Tom envelope her, encompassing her entire being. The love saturated her body, mind, and soul. And when the love soaked into everything, there was no room for the fear and it fled.
Newly determined, the petite girl gathered her rage, summoned her will and released Hell on the five wizards who were picking on her Tom.
The first combatant, a portly man who's body suggested he was better suited for office work, went down with a quick and silent stupefy.
Hermione kept her movements as silent and accurate as possible. If she could just get rid of a few before the others noticed, she could relieve some of the pressure on Tom.
She took down the next two with more Stupefys. If it isn't broken, don't fix it.
The crash of the two wizards falling to the ground together, caused Tom to look over at her. In the instant their eyes locked, she realized that she shouldn't have surprised him. Now his attention was on her and not his other two opponents.
She immediately began running towards him, knowing in her bones that the next spell sent would hit him. If she could just get there, she could save him.
A tall man with raggedy brown hair and a jade earring smiled mischievously. Hermione tracked his movement. His wand arm twitched. And she jumped.
Tom, still focused on her, had a dumb-founded expression on his face. His distraction cost him, and while the bushy haired woman leaped toward him, the man with the earring released one of the most sinister curses of all, the Cruciatus Curse.
Hermione felt it hit her, and her first thought was that she felt relieved. The world's most painful curse, specifically designed to inflict as much pain as possible plowed its way through her nervous system and all she could think about was how happy she was. Because if she was the one in pain, then it meant that it hit her, and not Tom.
She focused on that as the agony tore through her. Darkness impounded on her, and it took her a few seconds to realize that it was because her eyes had rolled into her head. It was like touching a hot stove, but all over her body. And the pain didn't just affect her skin, but her insides felt like they were boiling and her eyeballs felt like they had melted.
Her impressive thinking had been demoted to just one mantra. Tom will save us. Tom will save us. Tom will save us.
Had she been in her right mind, she would have noticed that her mantra was indeed coming true. The Tom she had come to love and care about did not exist in this moment.
The rage and fury that eminanted from this Tom Riddle belonged entirely to Lord Voldemort, and right now, Voldemort was exactly what she needed.
His eyes burned crimson as his wand swept over the remaining opponents. More of the attackers swarmed into the scene, and Tom doled out their punishment with relish.
Every time his wand struck, a scream ripped through the village. Hermione's own screams fueled his fury, and the only solution was either the cessation of hers, or more of theirs.
Bodies flew, blood rained from the sky.
Single-handedly he took down fifteen men, each one looking worse than the one before. Several showed evidence of Stupefys, but several had long lacerations on their bodies. Tom had never used the Cutting Curse in such creative ways, but the scars the survivors would have would remind them not to mess with him again.
Bystanders were torn between disgust and gratefulness to their avenging angel.
Tom moved with such lethal grace, that every person in the vicinity had to admit that he was beautiful. His porcelain face and his raven hair were so noticeable on his magnificent form, that even the leader of the attacking army had to pay his silent respects.
Grindelwald watched from the top of the highest building in Hogsmeade. He watched diligently as his army was decimated by one seventeen-year-old kid. And he smiled.
Tom faced down the last wizard, the man with the jade earring.
"Take the curse off her or I will take your head off." He commanded in such a voice that the man made a move to follow his directions before he realized that he didn't follow the teen's orders.
"Then I guess you'll just have to make me, boy." Replied the man in a much deeper voice than expected.
Tom obliged. He slashed and jabbed with his wand, spells flying through the village. Red curses flew over their heads, as they dodged and blocked.
This duel raged in a way that only happens when both participants are incredibly talented. They grew closer and closer together as the spells became increasingly dangerous. Tom dodged a Disembowelment Hex when an Expelliarmus flew out of no where and robbed him of his wand. Falling to his knees, Tom gasped for air.
"Ah, so you aren't unbeatable. It looks like a real man was all that was needed to take you down."
"A real man," Tom still gasped for breath, "would never," gasp, "be as stupid as you!" He finished, his voice steady and strong. Tom sprung forward, his gasping now revealed as an act to invite the man closer. Mid-leap Tom transformed and ripped the man from shoulder to hip with one swipe of his powerful paw. The man went down. For good measure, Tom ravaged his wand hand and bit the wood in two.
Hermione's screams stopped, replaced with her sobs.
Tom approached her cautiously, careful not to scare her or harm her in his animal form. Her body lay sprawled out a few meters to his right. He watched as her back rose and fell with her heaving sobs.
He nuzzled her with his nose, offering his warmth and his comfort.
Hermione felt it, and knew who it was in the depths of her soul. She turned to look at him. Her big brown eyes met his amber yellow eyes for a precious moment, before she launched herself at him.
Tom flinched, still halfway in battle mode, but quickly succumbed to the hug she was forcing on him.
"Tom. My best friend. My tiger."
He nodded. Unable to talk in this body, he used his mind. Are you okay, Hermione? Are you still hurting? I'm going to get you to the Hospital Wing as soon as I can. Don't you worry.
As soon as he felt her arms leave his neck he phased back. An approaching villager handed him his wand, and he started off for the castle with Hermione passed out behind him, oblivious to the dark mastermind's curious eye.
…...
Thirsty. Parched. Everything felt...dry. Why am I so thirsty? Her brown eyes slowly opened. The ceiling didn't look right. It didn't match the ceiling in her dormitory in the dungeons. It looks like the Hospital Wing, but why—
She snapped straight up in bed, everything coming back in full clarity. Already feeling panic creeping up her spine, she spun her head around the room, taking everything in.
Her first observation was that it was nighttime still. But was it the same night? Or the next night? How long ago had all this happened?
Her second observation was that the chair next to her bed was empty. She frowned. Well, Tom was in a rough fight, he probably needed his sleep. Even if he was here, I would have insisted he get some sleep anyway. He just tried to do what I'd want him to do. But still, even as she thought this, she had to admit she was disappointed.
Well, now she was definitely wide-awake, so she decided to go find Madam Pomfrey and ask if she could leave. As she went to get out of bed, though, her foot didn't land on the flagstone floor, but on something furry and squishy.
With a shriek, she jumped back up onto the bed, searching the room for her wand. She grabbed it from the nightstand, but when she went to stun the thing, she had to smile.
Her furry floor's large feline chest was still rising and falling slowly. Tom was sleeping on her floor as the largest cat in the world. Feeling his presence, knowing he was there, calmed her racing heart.
Before she could even register that she was tired, she too fell into a blissful slumber, her guardian just a step away.
…...
The second time she woke, it was to whispering voices fiercely arguing. She recognized Tom's whisper at once, having heard it at least once a class. The other was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it immediately like her best friend's.
Opening her eyes and groaning at the harsh light, she sat up in bed. Her brown eyes fell on Tom and the other person in the argument. Surprisingly, it was Dumbledore. It came as such a shock because Hermione had never heard him argue with anyone. At all. Normally everyone just acceded to his wishes, without him explaining anything.
His peculiar dislike for Tom made Hermione uneasy. Sure, Dumbledore knew that in the alternate time line Tom grew into the most feared Dark Lord of all time. But, in the here and now, he was a sweet boy who did nothing wrong, and in fact, had just saved Hogsmeade single-handedly from a vicious attack.
Their mutual hatred intrigued the bushy haired girl, much like a train accident would intrigue someone. Why did they have such animosity? Though Tom had not been a model citizen, let alone wizard, before the professor showed up at his orphanage, he had turned himself completely around, with much help from Hermione.
In the time line without Hermione, Tom acted like a model student and peer, with her here, he just was. There was no act. So why does 'Uncle Albus' still detest him so? The Dumbledore she knew was all about second chances, why wouldn't he give Tom that break?
Hermione had tried to get to the bottom of this mystery several times already. She didn't understand where Dumbledore was coming from, but even more upsetting, was that she couldn't completely understand where Tom's hatred hailed from.
She knew part of it stemmed from the Transfiguration professor's mistreatment of him, but such juvenile behavior didn't affect Tom from anyone else, students or faculty. There was more to it, she knew. Tom probably didn't understand it himself, which is why he found it impossible to explain to her other that, "I dunno, I just hate him. I get a weird vibe from him." Coming back to the present, she turned her attention to their disagreement.
"You shouldn't have even been out there in the first place."
"But we were and it worked out for the best. Hogsmeade is still standing now because Hermione and I fancied a night time stroll." He said, whimsical just the right amount to irritate Dumbledore.
"You unnecessarily put your lives at risk! You put her life at risk!" His voice hoarse from whisper screaming.
"I would never! I forced her to go back to the school to get help. From you. She made sure you got the message and then she came back to help. I can't help that she did it much faster than I thought she would. I was actually thinking that you were already on your way when I sent her back. You are supposed to be Grindelwald's nemesis, aren't you?" Tom practically roared, and the whispering turned into full on yelling.
Over on her bed, Hermione almost exploded in anger. That little scum bag! How dare he not treat her like she could help. She knew she could!
"You cannot blame me for not predicting this attack, Mr. Riddle."
"Well I am. If you had been a little more prepared, she wouldn't have been under that curse for so long."
"Well if you had taken care of it all a little faster she wouldn't have suffered so much either."
"I'm only seventeen years old, Professor! I shouldn't have been able to take out one of those full grown wizards, let alone a multitude of them. You're supposed to be the most powerful wizard alive, so where were you to take care of business? I had to do what I had to do to make sure the village, and she, survived."
Hermione decided this might be a good time to make her presence known. You know, before they started screaming, or Merlin forbid, have a pissing contest.
"Um, Tom? Professor Dumbledore?"
The two men snapped out of their discussion, both of them ashamed at her catching them arguing in such a juvenile manner. Tom's cheeks were a little pink, too. How cute. He took down an army of evil wizards, and still blushes when he's embarrassed.
"Hermione!" Tom greeted her, launching himself onto her bed in an undignified heap. "Are you okay? Are you hurting?" He started looking her over for damage, even going so far as to place his hand on her forehead like he was some kind of mother hen.
"Tom I'm fine. And fever isn't a symptom of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus." He looked at her blankly. "So you don't need to check for a fever on my forehead."
"Oh! Sorry." He pulled his warm hand off her face. The gesture reminded her of right before he left to defend Hogsmeade, bringing her mind back to the nightmarish events of last night.
"Miss Dumbledore, I hope you are well?" Her 'Uncle Albus' asked with true concern, his blue eyes back to twinkling.
"Yes, both of you. I feel fine." She said reflexively. But taking a quick account of her faculties, she decided that it was more or less the truth. "I'm a little sore, I guess, but that will pass."
"Oh good. I am so glad to hear that, Hermione." The professor replied. "Madame Pomfrey said you were free to go as soon as you woke up. But she would like to check on you sometime tomorrow, just in case."
"Okay, I understand. Thank you for passing along the message, Professor."
"You are welcome, dear. Now, I'll be taking my leave. Lunch starts in about thirty minutes." And he left with a nod to her, and icy silence for Tom.
Her best friend glared as he watched his hated professor go, then he turned to her, still sitting on her bed.
"So, you're sure you're okay?" He asked, his voice now much more vulnerable now that they were alone. She nodded. He looked at her strangely for a moment, and then abruptly pulled her into a hug, one of the few he had initiated in their entire friendship. "Don't you ever jump in front of a curse for me again!" He scolded. "Never, ever, ever. Got that?" He pulled away from her, imploring her with his eery gray eyes. "How am I supposed to protect you if you go and jump in front of curses? You're making my job a little hard here, Dumbledore."
She sighed, "I'm sorry, Riddle. If I hadn't distracted you in the first place, you would have been able to dodge the curse, but somehow I just knew it would hit you. And I couldn't let that happen, so I did what I had to do."
"You didn't have to do anything, you could—"
"Oh, so I can't 'do what I had to do' but you can? Is that what you mean?" Her voice turned hard.
"What?"
"I heard you talking to Dumbledore. You sent me back thinking it wasn't even necessary to get help? Do you have so little trust in me? Am I that big of a burden to you?"
Tears slid down her face, unwelcome. The shock of all that had happened was finally catching up to her and creating a catharsis through her cries. She hated this. She hated crying, especially in front of him. She rarely ever cried. Sometimes she teared up a bit, but she had learned how to squish those annoying beads of water back into her eyeballs. And now here she was, crying over something so stupid.
He took her face gently in his big hands and looked at her very seriously. He only made this face when he was about to say something important, that he needed her to listen to and believe.
"Listen to me, Hermione. I trust you. I trust you more than anyone, head and shoulders more than anyone. I just wanted to protect you. I needed to know you were safe so that I could take control without worrying about you. You are my weakness and they could have—and did—exploit that. Do you know how I felt when I watched you squirm on the ground, watched your eyes roll in your head and heard your scream fill my mind? That's all I could hear when I tried to sleep last night. Can you really blame me for wanting to spare you pain, oh She-who-jumps-in-front-of-Cruciatus-curse?"
"Well—" She started, but closed her mouth as she thought it over. "I guess it is a little hypocritical of me, of both of us really."
"I hate to admit it, but you're right. We were both being hypocritical. I apologize."
"Me too." She said, and they both smiled.
At the pause in the conversation, Hermione took note of the rest of the room. On her nightstand, a vase of flowers had appeared that wasn't there the night before. Tom noticed her wandering eyes and filled in her unasked question.
"They're from Abraxas."
"Malfoy?"
"Yes. Is there another Abraxas?" He asked sarcastically.
"No, but I just needed the confirmation." Her confusion doubled. "Why would he send me flowers?"
"Read the card. Maybe he answers that question."
"You didn't read it?"
"I didn't want to be rude."
She laughed. "That's sweet." She replied, and reached for the card. "If you didn't read it, how'd you know who they were from?"
"I was here when he dropped them off this morning. He said he picked them from the green house himself. Said you were too good for conjured flowers. Like anyone can really tell the difference."
"That's... surprisingly sweet."
Tom just looked disgusted. "What does it say?"
"Oh, right, the card." She opened it up and read aloud, "Hermione, hoping you get well soon. All of Hogwarts owes their gratitude to you for saving our favorite form of entertainment. Perhaps when you are well we can go to your village together? Your admirer, Abraxas Malfoy." She scoffed. "What a dweeb."
"A dweeb?"
"I mean, a pillock."
"So," he started, sounded way too casual. "What are you going to say?"
"What do you think I'm going to say? I'm going to say 'no thanks, ferret, pick on someone your own size.' Geez, Tom. Why would I want to date that arrogant git?"
"I dunno." He said, sounding small. "I was just wondering."
Hermione smelled something fishy. He was acting very strange. Strange even for just getting into a huge fight and finding out he could maim people. It was strange that he wasn't affected by that, but he was freaking out (in his own way) that Malfoy Sr. Sr. wanted to take her on a date.
"Okay, spill."
"Pardon me?"
"What's on your mind, Tom? You are acting very peculiar."
"I was so hoping you would be too tired to see through me."
"Yeah well I'm not, so tell me."
"Fine. Malfoy's been barking up your tree for the last few months."
"WHAT?"
"How could you seriously not know? Everyone knows. He tries to sit close to you in class, he's started sitting on the other side of you at meals. He's even tried to talk to me about 'this girl he likes' and asks me all kinds of obvious questions about it. Well, I guess I'll give him credit. He's actually being pretty subtle, it's just hard to lie to a Legilimens like myself."
"Tom! You've been using Legilimency against people?"
"We'll get back to that. But seriously, how could you not realize he's practically in love with you?"
"How could be practically in love with me? We've spoken like three times since first year! One of those times was me asking if I could borrow a quill because Puggy had broken mine." She huffed out, exasperated.
"I'm not going to pretend to understand, 'Mione. But he looks at you constantly." Tom seemed to be looking far away as he thought more about it. "The funniest part is when he gets jealous of me."
"Gets jealous of you? Of you? What for? Everyone knows we're just friends."
He nodded in agreement. "Sure, but I'm still the person you see the most, the person closest to you. Abraxas was there when our Amible Potion results were announced, so he knows I'm closer to you than he ever will be. How could he not be jealous? The girl he loves won't give him the time of day because she spends all her time with her best friend. Her best friend that just happens to be a guy. I don't know if you've noticed, Hermione, but boys and girls aren't usually as close of friends as we are."
Hermione hadn't even thought about that. In the '90's she was best friends with Ron and Harry and no one batted an eye. Much. But this was a different time, complete with different sets of standards and rules. Now that she thought about it, there weren't many different gender best friends. No wonder people sometimes got the wrong idea.
Tom continued on, oblivious to her revelation. "It was okay when we were first and second years. But now that we're older, people have been treating us differently, have you noticed?"
"You mean like Slughorn giving you the old birds and the bees talk because I'm 'a lady?'"
Tom glared at her. It's still a sore spot. "Yeah, thanks for bringing that back up."
Hermione ignored him and kept talking, "And like how your Alyse tried to make you choose between your girlfriend and your best friend who is a girl?"
"She's not 'my Alyse,' but yes, that's what I mean."
"Oh. Well, then yeah, I suppose I have noticed some things, I just didn't realize it was because of my friendship with you. Like, just the other day Madam Pinfold wouldn't let me check out a book on metalworking with magic because she said it 'wasn't a woman's place to learn metalworking.' Then she tried to get me to check out The Modern Woman's Place: A Portrait of Women and their Duties in the 1900's."
"Ugh, does she know you at all?"
"That's probably why she 'recommended' them, actually."
"I don't know about you, Hermione, but I'm not going to let society tell me who I'm allowed to be friends with. You know how I feel about you. You know about my family life, or lack thereof. You know who I am and how I came to be that person. I care only about what you think of me, not Madam Pinfold, not Headmaster Dippet, hell, I don't even care what your Uncle Albus thinks of our friendship. So stop worrying." A wave of shock flowed through Hermione's body at her friend hitting the nail on the head with her emotions. It must have made its way onto her face because Tom continued, answering her unasked question.
"Yes, I can tell that you are actually worrying about this. Your eyebrows crinkle a bit when you're anxious. I'm not about to up and leave and decide that I would be better off without you just because some older people who don't even know us think that you're giving your favors away freely."
Hermione took in his words, letting them sink into her body and wash away her doubts and worry. No one could calm her quite like Tom could. Acknowledging his declaration, she replied, "You're right. It was stupid of me to even think it of you for a second. I know you wouldn't do that. I hope you know I wouldn't either."
"Never doubted you for a minute, Herms." Hermione could feel her face turn from a serene smile into a grimace of the ugliest variety.
"What did I tell you about calling me that?" She asked, her voice more harsh than normal.
"That if I wanted to retain the ability to father children that I shouldn't call you 'Herms.'" He replied with a bit of a smirk on his handsome face, those special silvery gray eyes sparkling with amusement.
"And? If you know the rule, why did you call me that?"
"I'm starting to think having children is overrated. Who needs brats, anyway?" He teased.
"Tom! You really think that about children?"
"Not really." He responded, "I think I'd like them some day, but I'd have to be with a very patient woman. Someone who knows a lot about raising children and would tell me when I'm being a bad father."
"I doubt you would be a bad father," she assured him.
"Since I never had a real father, I'm not sure how I should act anyway."
"True. Well, you have years until you have to figure it out. Don't worry about it until you have to."
"Sounds good." After a second his stomach rumbled rather loudly. "Say, 'Mione."
"Yes?" She said, trying not to laugh.
"Can we go to lunch now? I think we're about to miss it."
"I thought you'd never ask. Just let me grab my flowers and we can go."
"The flowers from your loverboy?"
"Tom! Abraxas is not my 'loverboy!'"
Hermione grabbed the flowers and tucked her wand into her pocket and they continued their teasing banter out the door and all the way into the Great Hall.