A/N: I'm embarrassed to say I've been working on this chapter since AUGUST, and it's taken me this long to finish it. During these long months I've had school, a job, a little trip over Thanksgiving to Africa, a nice Christmas break, and the re-emergence of the man who broke my heart. Times have certainly been interesting. Anyways, I'm sorry this took so long to get up. Your reviews guilted me into writing more and without them I still wouldn't have finished this chapter. Thanks for all your input, especially aplacefarawayfromhere—you got me straight trippin', boo.
To the people reading this, I say: どもありがとおごさいました。
Enjoy, and Review!
Sixth Year, Part II:
The next few weeks were strange for the Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin for several reasons. First of all, Abraxas Malfoy had tripled his attempts to get Hermione to agree to a date, and completely stopped even a pretense of not stalking her. He found a way to talk to her twice a day. Surprisingly, his conversation wasn't too bad. It was just hard to concentrate on what he was saying while simultaneously trying to subtly un-glue his eyes from her chest.
The second reason everything was so odd lay in the behavior of the rest of the student body. Ever since her recovery, the student population treated her differently. They sought out her company, her opinion, her thoughts. It was like she suddenly gained a giant leap in popularity, and honestly, it rubbed her the wrong way.
Never having been one for 'popularity,' Hermione decided not to let it affect her, to just keep acting how she normally acted, and doing the things she normally did. People were practically in awe of her. I didn't even do anything, really. I was just there and they treat me like this. People are so fickle.
If Hermione gained a boost in likeability, then Tom was being treated with something akin to hero worship. This bothered her even more. Where were these people when she and Tom were in first-year and had no friends but each other? Where were they when Tom came back from the orphanage he returned to for the summer while she had been bored at Dumbledore Manor for their Second Year and he refused to leave her side for more than a few seconds until Halloween?
Her best friend had risked his life to save Hogsmeade from utter ruin. He had selflessly defended the tiny village and saved many lives that night, including hers. They had kept the story mostly under wraps in order to minimize the danger the students could have been in, should the story get out to the press, and more importantly, the parents.
So of course the entire school knew about it. That added secrecy meant that the students were even more intrigued by the happenings, and in lieu of an official version via The Prophet, they relentlessly tried to pry information from the story's hero.
Hermione hated that these two-faced people flocked to Tom like he was this month's fad. Worse still, he seemed to enjoy the attention. Well, why not? Tom had come from an environment where he had to literally fight for attention. And Tom fought dirty. He had quickly realized that negative attention, such as bullying with his magic, was much easier to achieve than positive attention. Hermione was exasperated at having to re-train him into searching for positive attention, and was, until this point, quite sure she had managed. That stupid orphanage had really screwed him over, in many ways.
Here, though, people were giving him all the attention he wanted. And this time it was for something other than his looks. People were congratulating him for something positive he had done that no one else could have done. Hermione could tell he loved the feeling. He was getting off on the praise and the power. The fourth time he lost concentration on their conversation, she decided this was getting a little out of hand.
Voldemort, she knew, had also been a bit of an attention whore, and seeing this aspect of Tom's personality arrive threw her for a bit of a loop. While she had long ago separated the two in her mind and soul, the new things that cropped up shook her out of her comfy cocoon.
Hermione had never been a jealous sort, and wasn't even now. But for the sake of keeping Tom sane, she had to find a way to focus his attention off of his recently doubled fan club, and onto important matters.
She needed something that would shock him, something that would force him to realize that he had been distant from her. She needed to find the perfect event that would make him wake up and smell the bacon.
And with a smirk worth of Severus Snape himself, she found it. Tom would not be happy.
The end of March was approaching fast. The students were excited for the first of April, the next Hogsmeade weekend. Hermione passed several couples deciding to go together on her way back to the Slytherin Common Room.
She greeted the dreary, cold room with a sigh. The absolute worst thing about being a Slytherin was the common room. The desks were convenient, but that damn coldness never left.
She sat by one of the fireplaces, waiting for the perfect time to put her plan into action when she heard voices coming from her dormitory.
"I am so sick of hearing you say shit like that, Natasha. No one in Slytherin cares about stupid Mudbloods! If you want to be one so bad, why don't you just go join them. You aren't welcome with us anymore." Hermione had to raise her eyebrows at that. Puggy's horrendous voice sounded more vicious than it ever had before, and Hermione could say that with assurance having been on the end of it enough times.
"Annabelle? You're my sister, aren't you going to defend me?" She heard Natasha plead.
"No, Natasha. Pugnella's right. If you aren't with us, you're against us. I'm sorry, I really am."
Hermione's raised eyebrows were now joined by a dropped jaw. They seriously said that to her? Natasha's own twin sister was kicking her out of their 'group?' That was ridiculous.
She heard the door slam, and Natasha came tearing down the stairs. Hermione watched cautiously, seeing the girl caught up in her own rage.
Thinking she was alone, Natasha screamed her fury. She threw a couch cushion into the fire and kicked the wall. As she danced around, cradling her toe her eyes met Hermione's surprised brown ones.
"Oh. Um, hi Hermione."
"Hello, Natasha. Rough night?"
The blond laughed without any humor. "You could say that, I guess."
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I couldn't help but hear what just happened." Hermione said tentatively.
Natasha, still holding her injured foot, bounced her way over to the couch Hermione was sitting on, plopping down beside her.
"Yes, well. As angry as I am that they abandoned me, I can't help but be a little glad that I no longer have to put up with their ridiculous prejudice. I am so tired of pretending that Muggle-borns and Half-bloods are inferior to Purebloods, though by the way they went on about it I didn't do a very good job convincing them I believed that rubbish as well." She said, with a world-weary sigh.
Hermione, a bit flabbergasted, tried to keep the astonishment off her easily read face as she replied, "Well, Natasha, I am so glad to finally have someone else in Slytherin who doesn't feel that way at all. My family have always been big supporters of equality in Wizards' Rights. If that lot have really kicked you to the curb, then you are always welcome to join Tom and me. We're kind of boring, we study a lot, but you'll always have a place with us if you should need it."
Natasha looked wistfully at this thought. A few lone tears trekked their way down her cheeks, but her bearing and posture reflected none of those emotions coursing across her face. She sat in silence for a moment, then abruptly turned to Hermione, as if she had just reached some conclusion, and said, "Thank you, Hermione. I deserve much less than you are offering. I never stopped the other girls from having a go at you, but from now on I will count myself a friend to you. So, thank you for—"
But she never got to finish that thought, because at that precise moment, a rugged looking Abraxas Malfoy flew through the Common Room entrance, and practically dove in front of Hermione, his head bowed like a gallant knight.
A crooked smirk adorned her face, her plan about to be put into effect. "Hermione Dumbledore, I beg you for the last time: Come to Hogsmeade with me! I can't hide my feelings any longer. I've tried to be patient, and kind, the type of man you deserve. But I can't help but think maybe you'll respond better to a blunt declaration. I think, no I know, we would make a wonderful couple. I am worthy of you, please accompany me just this once and see if you don't think we would work out! Please." Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Abraxas cut her off, "Please just think about it before you turn me down again."
"Malfoy, you idiot, I was going to say yes," she said, not looking at him, but looking at her nails, trying to appear unaffected. "but maybe now I'll rescind my answer."
He looked horrified. "NO! No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." When she didn't begin to turn him down, his expression turned into one of extreme pleasure. A weird look, in all, a Malfoy with a grin plastered on his face instead of a sneer or a smirk.
"You won't regret it, Hermione. I promise you. I will meet you in a week's time in the Entrance Hall at 10 am. How does that sound?"
"Alright, Malfoy. Don't mess this up." She said with a roll of her eyes.
He left quickly, probably thinking the less time he spent there the less time she would have to cancel their date.
Hermione giggled to herself, loving the fact that everything was coming together. Tom was going to be so jealous and come running back.
Jealous? That's not really the emotion she wanted him to feel. So why would she just think that she wanted him to be jealous?
Really all she wanted was for him to see that he'd been ignoring her, and that her life would go on with or without him. Though that was a total lie, her '40's life completely revolved around Tom. How sad was that? It hadn't bothered her at all until his life stopped completely revolving around hers and he had started doing things independently of her. This was going to have to change. If he could be independent, then she could too.
"So, you are going to give poor Abraxas a chance now?" Hermione about jumped out of her skin when Natasha spoke, she had quite forgotten she was still sitting there.
After a quick, hidden, recovery, Hermione responded, "Well, yes." But then, remembering that Tom had branched out, Hermione decided that she could and should branch out as well. So she shared her master plan with Natasha, who surprisingly, went along with it and even added suggestions that Hermione had not even seen possibilities with. The two of them were going to make an excellent team.
Hermione hadn't told Tom about her date with Abraxas, she wanted to see how far gone into his own world he had gone. She didn't change her behavior, didn't immediately start gushing about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, but nor did she complain about Malfoy anymore either.
Like a typical boy, Tom didn't notice anything.
But Tom wasn't a typical boy, he was her best friend and nothing about him had ever been normal. Tom noticed things, he had a very unique perspective and was known throughout the faculty, to Dumbledore's dismay, as being very perceptive and hard to trick.
This only compounded Hermione's worry.
If he doesn't say anything after two days post-date, I'll confront him directly. She told herself, giving both of them some leeway. That gave Tom two days to confront her, and herself two days to form a plan and gather her courage.
The days leading up to her date with Malfoy ran smoothly, to her astonishment. Hermione repeatedly found herself looking over her shoulder, as if the feeling in her gut of something about to go wrong would materialize and attack her physically. Even knowing why she did it, and knowing how ridiculous it actually was, she couldn't stop herself more than she could stop being a woman.
Her new-found friendship with Natasha blossomed and they now spent so much time in each others' company, that even Tom, whose nose was perennially stuck in the clouds these days, noticed the change.
He took it in stride, luckily, and instead of just ignoring Hermione, he ignored the both of them. Never maliciously, though, and Hermione found a small comfort in that. She knew it was just the attention he was garnering that had him fascinated, and not something she had done wrong that made his attention waver. But, that didn't mean she had to like it.
She woke up early on the Saturday of her day with Malfoy, shockingly apathetic about her clothes, shocking to the other females of the time, who swooned and collapsed into histrionics over everything, but most especially dates with eligible men.
And for some reason that Hermione could never fathom, the girls of Hogwarts went bat-wild for Malfoy, the eligiblest of all the eligible bachelors, second only to Tom.
But as Tom was more of a mystery and thus harder to approach, most girls set their sights on Malfoy in the mistaken belief that they had more of a chance with him. In reality, they only had a chance if they were pure-blooded and of a reasonable attractiveness level, but that never could stop the power of a teenage girl's ambition for love.
Hermione wondered what Abraxas Malfoy would do if he found out that his "love," Hermione Dumbledore, was actually a muggle-born. She spent the next few minutes as she de-tangled her mop of hair, imagining the results. He could ignore her, which seemed like a best-case scenario, or he could attack her, most likely the worst-case scenario. Either way, she decided after finishing up her hair and moving on to her clothes, it was best if dear Abraxas remained in the dark about that trifle little detail.
The Slytherin made her way to the Common Room soon after that thought, eager to get this whole thing over and done with, when out of the corner of her eye she caught someone sit up suddenly on the couch.
"Oh, you aren't wearing that, are you Hermione?" Natasha's clear and bell-like voice sounded from the figure.
Feeling slightly offended, Hermione looked down at her plain black skirt and blouse. "What's wrong with this, then?"
Natasha made her way over, her hands up by her face like one would approach a wild animal. I mean you no harm! screaming from her body language. "Well, for one, that skirt is a drab gray."
"It's black!"
"Maybe twenty years ago, when it was meant to be worn." She said, not unkindly.
Ooch, that one hit the mark. Though Hermione never cared much for fashion at all, she was still a girl and took many hits a day about her awful clothes. She knew they stood out because they were older-looking, but in the interest of making the best of the situation—and Dumbledore's generosity—Hermione made a conscious decision to not let her peers rankle her.
"Besides, if you go down now, he'll think you're more eager than you're meant to be."
The brunette hadn't thought of that. Having a girl on her team definitely had its perks.
"Here, c'mon, I've got something that will make you look amazing. It couldn't hurt the plan if more than one man found you attractive."
"What?" Hermione's eyes shot to Natasha's.
"We'll make you so beautiful that Tom will have to notice you as a woman." Natasha said, as if talking to a dim-wit.
"But, Natasha, that's not the point of all this." Hermione responded, wondering how Natasha could have gotten the plan that mixed up. "I don't care if Tom thinks of me as a girl, I just want him to see that he's ignoring me."
Natasha's face after that remark reminded Hermione of Dumbledore, in the I-know-something-you-don't-but-I-will-generously-leave-you-enough-subtle-hints-that-you-will-get-it-at-the-right-moment kind of way. Hermione hated that. She hated feeling like she was missing something, and hated even more that she was missing something that someone else wasn't missing and most especially she hated when that someone who knew the missing thing refused to share it with her.
Together they had Hermione ready again in under ten minutes. Natasha really was a miracle worker. Do they teach these things in Pure-blood families before they leave for Hogwarts? Hermione wondered, but then her mind shifted to more important matters: The date with Malfoy.
…...
Abraxas paced the Entrance Hall swiftly, his Slytherin subtlety lost in his impatience. Hermione could see him long before he saw her, watching his agile movements across the Hall from the staircase above. He seemed to be muttering to himself, but stopped immediately upon seeing Hermione's descent onto his level.
His eyes popped only a little, but that was just a small tell-sign. Hermione knew Natasha had done a terrific job with her when he stuttered.
"H-Hermione, you l-l-look great!"
Malfoys do not stutter. It might as well have been in the Malfoy family creed, it was such an iron-clad law. Draco had never once stuttered, even when she hit him. Lucius, especially, had a smooth way of talking, like oil dropped onto silk, that a stutter would be very unbecoming. Hermione doubted Lucius had ever said anything unintentional in his entire life, stammers included.
She crossed the Entrance Hall quickly, determining to get this over with. She made for the doors, and Abraxas, caught off guard for a moment, gathered his wits and followed after her like a lost puppy. The two of them made their way down to Hogsmeade, through the spattering of snow still holding onto winter, unable to concede to the grassy hills of spring.
While listening to Abraxas spatter on, and giving the occasional, "yeah," Hermione couldn't help but ruminate on how different this trip to Hogsmeade was than the last time she went there—sprinting at top speed in fox form, meters below the ground. All things considered, she would rather walk there slowly than have that anxiety over Tom's safety gnaw at her while she was traveling ten times faster.
She shook that line of thinking from her head, and re-directed her attention back to Abraxas, who was still mid-monologue.
"And that's when I determined that Veelas have no effect on me, due to the Darshnovs that live in my pores. You know, they're pink and purple, polka dotted, of course, and their tentacles really do start to tickle. That's why I've been known to sneeze so often..."
What in Merlin's name was he talking about? Hermione felt a brief pang as Luna's face passed across her mind.
"Are you having me on?"
He looked startled as she interrupted him.
"Excuse me? Am I having you on?" He asked, with the air of someone who feels they are entitled to a bit of attitude.
"Yes, you cannot be serious. It's rude to—"
"Oh, I'm being rude? You were the one who wasn't listening for about ten minutes while I was talking. I was just saying all kinds of shit to see if you were paying attention. Which you weren't," he said acerbically, "but you already knew that."
Hermione drew in a deep breath, prepared to put him in his place, self-righteous anger seeping out of her, just to deflate a second later. Damn it if he wasn't right.
"Malfoy, I..."
He smiled bashfully. "Abraxas. Call me, Abraxas."
"You are...quite right, Abraxas. I apologize for not listening." He nodded, and just like that the tension-filled air cleared. It was at that point in time that Hermione was blindsided by the fact that, given half a chance, she might actually have a good time with Abraxas.
Which almost caused her to zone out again to think more about it, but one look at Abraxas' excitement filled face brought her back. She really couldn't do that to him. She would stay in the here and now.
A couple of hours later found the couple in the Three Broomsticks, sipping butterbeers in between increasingly long conversation topics. It surprised Hermione when she found her butterbeer stale tasting, after a particularly long argument between the two on the subject of Arithmancy used in Gringotts' accounting. Abraxas put up a particularly good defense of the Arithmancers who used their craft to account for the amount of money that employees had, just to in turn give it to the employers. Hermione found this practice ridiculous, her muggle background screaming for equality and the right to privacy.
Nevertheless, she reluctantly found herself respecting his opinion. At least it was well-backed up.
Abraxas and Hermione would never see eye-to-eye on things, and that's where the fun came from. Hermione spent all her time with him arguing about subjects she felt passionately about, and defending her ideals. He challenged her. And if she had to be truthful with herself, Hermione Granger-Dumbledore was not often challenged by her contemporaries. Only Tom could ever...
But then again, the whole point of this farce was for Tom to get his head out of his perfect arse.
In the meantime, Hermione came to the realization that these past few hours with Abraxas had been...fun. In no way had she expected that.
Just then, he downed the last few sips of his butterbeer, and met her eyes across the table. "Well, Hermione, would you like to look around Hogsmeade a bit longer? I hear Honeyduke's came up with a new candy that tastes like blood!"
Hermione smiled, flashes of her life in the 90's appearing before her mind's eye. Right then, staying in the here and now. No going back there.
"Candy that tastes like blood? Good heavens, what will they come up with next? Candy that tastes like Cockroaches?" She giggled at her private joke.
Abraxas grimaced and Hermione laughed at how his perfect features still looked perfect, even in the middle of a face like that. But, then again, women usually seem to flock to Malfoys and the three she'd had the (dis)pleasure of meeting all had permanent scowls on their faces.
The two sixth years left a generous tip for their barmaid, then meandered out to the street. Hermione shivered in the brisk wind, and without appearing to have much forethought, Abraxas quickly put an arm around her, steering both of them towards Honeyduke's.
He may not have noticed his possessive behavior, but she sure did. Just as it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to get off, she halted. In the spirit of having a good time with Abraxas, she let it go. After all, they were only a few shops down from their destination, and his arm was keeping most of the wind off her.
When they reached the threshold of Honeyduke's, Hermione made to open the door, but found it opening before she could reach it. To her surprise and displeasure, Pugnella walked right into her.
"Watch where you're walking, Botttlebrush!" she sputtered in Hermione's direction, while wiping imaginary germs off her skirt. "You should move out of the way when people more important than yourself are trying to walk by." Hermione seethed. Who the hell did this girl think she was? Even after all this, Hermione was a "Pure-blood" in this time, and the Slytherins still managed to make her feel bad about herself.
Just as Hermione was about to put Puggy in her place, Abraxas came to her rescue, albeit in a suave and urbane manner that befitted a Slytherin, and not the in-your-face shouting that Hermione was about to subject her to.
"Ah, Pugnella, how nice to see you." He said, his voice pure honey.
The girl's head shot up at his voice. "Oh, Abraxas. I'm so sorry you had to hear that."
"Yes, I'm sorry I 'had to hear it' as well." He said, still pleasant.
The two Slytheirn Pure-bloods locked eyes, having some sort of silent connection that escaped Hermione's grasp. Abraxas remained calm, his demeanor never changing, but his eyes spoke a challenge, daring Pug-nut to insult his date in front of him again. After several moments of their stalemate, Puggy seemed to concede. Still blocking the door, she looked over to Hermione with resignation on her face.
"I apologize for my behavior today, Hermione. It is not becoming of a young lady to insult her equals in the presence of a wizard above both of us." She said with an air of one forced into an apology that they don't mean, much like a young child caught stealing another child's candy. "I do hope you forgive me. And now I will take my leave. Good day to both of you." She walked off, pug-nose proudly in the air, not waiting for the response that she wasn't going to get.
Though the brightest witch Hogwarts had seen in the last century or two, Hermione found this exchange confusing. While on the surface, Abraxas had forced Puggy to accept her and even apologize to her, she couldn't help but think that another, entirely different, matter was resolved in that staring match as well. The undertones of their body language implied this, but for the life of her, Hermione could not figure out what that underlying meaning could have been.
While Hermione watched Puggy go off, confused about what just happened, Abraxas had caught the door the Slytherin girl had left gaping open and started in. Hermione turned around just in time to see him go through the door, and race to catch up to him.
"Now, where have they put those new lollipops? I'd like to buy a few of those, as well as my usual standard."
He didn't mention the run in at all, so Hermione decided to take his lead and carry on as if they had never seen her.
"What's your usual standard, then?" She asked, honestly curious. This new side of Abraxas, the mysterious side, had her fascinated by him. If he had just shown her this side while he was bugging her to go out with him, she wouldn't have had to use him for another purpose. She might have gone out with him on his own accolades.
Instead the whiny git Abraxas came out, and he was just plain annoying.
The rest of the day went without anymore incidents. The two left Honeyduke's, Hermione nervously eyeing the basement door, and continued around Hogsmeade, good-naturedly arguing about any topic they came across.
Hermione got so caught up in their verbal war that before she knew it, they were back in Slytherin Common Room, and he was placing a chaste kiss on her cheek at the division between the boy dorms and the girl dorms.
As he pulled back, Hermione noticed a mischievous glint to his eye. "See, Hermione," He whispered, his face still close to hers, "I told you we would have a good time."
She gave him a shy smile, "I'll admit, Abraxas, that I had a better time than I thought I would. Thank you for the day." She started to turn, eager to head off to meet Natasha.
But she should have remembered that Malfoys always have to have the last say.
"Let's do it again sometime." Then he disappeared into the boys' dorms with a cocky smile and a swagger.
Hermione muttered a "Cheeky bastard" to herself, then turned on her heel to give Natasha the scoop, fighting a smile that stole her face.
…...
It took two hours.
Hermione spent so much time worrying and planning for when Tom would find out about the date, and awaiting his reaction, that she somehow imagined that she would have a bit more time than two hours to come up with a half-way decent plan. Especially since she definitely wasn't expecting the date to go well.
But two hours after Abraxas cast her off at her dormitory, and approximately an hour after she finished giggling over the date with Natasha, Tom confronted her.
In the middle of dinner.
To be fair, she had noticed he was acting a bit strange. Sitting on her right, as per usual, she caught him staring off into space—quite a difference from his as-of-late behavior which included, but was not limited to: eyeing girls, moving in a manner which helped girls eye him, casually tossing his hair out of his eyes in order to impress girls eyeing him, ect.
So his withdrawn act caught her a little by surprise. To that extent, I guess his confrontation didn't come completely out of the blue.
She was eating her meal and thinking about the strange turn of events that went by the name Abraxas, when Tom came out and said it.
"So when were you going to tell me, then?" He said, refusing to look up from his dinner.
Hermione poked her head up, not even sure if he was directing this question at her, for all the attention he'd paid her the last few weeks. The hard line of his back, stiffer than normal, alerted her to the fact that he was indeed asking her.
So she responded. "Tell you what?"
Then cringed. That probably wasn't the best way to respond to that. Now he'll be mad and think I kept this from him deliberately. Oh, bugger. This is too soon!
"You know exactly what, Hermione. What happened to 'Abraxas is not my loverboy!'?" He said, doing an impression of Hermione that was spot-on. A few people around them heard it and giggled a bit.
Hermione groaned. I guess this means I'm not finishing dinner.
Still conscious of the eavesdroppers surrounding them, Hermione spoke with her mind rather than her mouth, for the first time in what felt like months.
Alright then, let's talk about this. But, not here. Let's go to the Room of Requirement.
Being mind-to-mind again felt wonderful. But before she could think about it, Tom nodded, and made a brilliant excuse to leave the table. Hermione rolled her eyes when he claimed he heard a baby bird outside that had fallen out of a tree, and he needed to go get it. Rather than come up with some ridiculously elaborate excuse just to amuse the masses, Hermione said, "Well, I'm done. I'm going to go study."
The glazed over eyes of those closest to her, not including Natasha who was on the other side of the long table, talking to Cygnus Black, her current paramour, kept Hermione grounded. While this day could possibly change the course of her friendship, and effectively life, Hermione going off to the library still caused instant glaucoma. At least some things were sacred. No one questioned her excuse, they all knew her study habits. They just didn't know that it was rarely anything for class she was studying.
She left the table, regretting not finishing her lamb while she had the chance, and followed her partner in crime out of the Great Hall, up seven flights of stairs and all the way to their sanctuary.
They made the trek silently, both vigilant as to being followed, and both observant of their counterpart. Hermione caught Tom looking at her hair. Before she could ask why, he cut her off.
"When did you get your hair cut? It's styled differently."
This was not at all what she had expected him to say, and it showed on her face. "Umm, I had Natasha do it earlier today actually. She's a whiz with beauty charms."
"Oh." He said rather lamely. Before they had time to delve into another awkward avenue of conversation, the pair arrived at the stretch of wall hiding the Room of Requirement. As per their usual unspoken roles, Hermione went about providing the room's décor passing across the stretch of wall three times while Tom waited patiently, any hint of his thoughts wiped meticulously from his cherubic face.
Tom followed Hermione into the room, not commenting on the vast difference from their birthday fireplace escape. Hermione had summoned a more modern room for them. The decade she'd been living in for the past few years was great and all, but her heart longed for her childhood's fads and comforts. The Room of Requirement had compromised her need to fit into this world of the turbulent forties and her heart's desire for her home. The result, Hermione noted, was a pleasant blend of World War II era furniture and several room accents, paintings mostly, that she knew would not be created for another thirty to forty years. Hermione relaxed a bit when she saw that they were subtle enough to not draw Tom's attention. The Slytherin Prefect took solace in the secret futuristic things, just another in a long line of private jokes and stolen comforts she enjoyed.
Tom had already been sitting for a few seconds before Hermione realized that she should probably join him. Taking the other half of the love seat, she turned to him, with no idea how to begin.
Luckily, Tom took this problem off her hands by starting, in a voice that betrayed how much self-control he was exerting to remain calm, "Hermione, why did you go on a date with Malfoy today?"
Hmmm, how to answer that. Should I immediately confess that it was originally a ruse, then ease into the I-now-may-actually-like-him part of it, or should I just pretend I liked him the whole time and Tom's inability to notice anything not related to his own face kept him from seeing it? Choices, choices...
In the end, Hermione decided that honesty was always the best policy. Well, as much honesty as there could be when one left out the whole Time-Travel aspect of her entire existence here in the forties.
She looked him dead in the eye, and in her most direct voice, said, "You were ignoring me."
Incredulously, he responded, "I'm sorry, what?"
"You were ignoring me." She said a little harder this time.
"I heard you the first time."
"Then why did you act like you didn't?"
"That's... so not the point right now." He shook his head, clearing cobwebs, and continued, "Why does me 'ignoring' you relate to you dating the Ferret? And I wasn't ignoring you."
"You were totally ignoring me! Don't even try to deny it!"
"Of course I deny it, because I didn't do it." He countered.
"Oh yeah, then why didn't you know I was going to go on a date with Abraxas? The entire school knew Tom. For a whole week! They talked about it meters from you, and you still didn't know until we came back from the date."
"I—" He sputtered, "I—I dunno, I guess I've just been busy." He said, his voice taking on a hint of pompousness after his recovery.
"Oh please, Tom Riddle, the only thing you've been busy with the last month is your cock!" Hermione replied in an out of character sarcastic barb that even contained a word of questionable appropriateness. Hermione rarely cursed, except in times of duress, or when trying to make a point.
Tom's visage turned stormy, his eyes alight with fury. But, he had no words to deny her claim. Because it was the truth. And Tom could do many things to Hermione, ignore her, tease her, out-do her about half the time, but he could never out right lie to her. Especially after the Slughorn fiasco of last year.
"I'll not completely refute that claim," He said a few seconds later, still unable to own up to it.
Hermione sighed, exasperation soaking her whole body. "Wow. What a concession."
"Still... why would you even go out with him? You hate him, 'Mione. You've always hated him, so why now?"
The moment of truth...
"I knew he would annoy you the most. And I'm sorry, I know it was slightly underhanded—but, we're Slytherins! Underhanded is what we do best!"
"No, Hermione." His eyes were solemn. The rage he had been containing morphed into a deep sadness, with betrayal at its heart. "No. Slytherins do underhanded. Slytherins. But us? Tom and Hermione? We are us first, and Slytherins second. And we do not do underhanded to each other. You taught me that. You've taught me almost everything 'moral' that I know. And I know that you know that. So, it's a bit hard for me to deal with you of all people doing this."
"Tom." She said softly, afraid that speaking any louder would run him right out of the room. "Tom, I'm...I didn't even think of it that way. I didn't... I didn't consider this a betrayal as you seem to." She got lost in her thoughts for a bit, the oppressive silence of the night soaking into their sacred room.
Bravely she continued, "I see why you think that, though. I see why me being 'underhanded' hurts you so much. I do. I understand. If the person who taught you morality shows ill behavior, then who's to say you won't do the same bad behavior? You're scared of yourself, Tom. And I see it's confusing for you—that I acted so dishonestly with you. But, please remember, I'm just an imperfect person too. I can talk the talk, but even I mess up walking the walk. I'm sorry. Forgive me?"
"I think I already did. Forgive me?"
"Forgive you? For what?" She asked him.
"For thinking you infallible, for making you think I was ignoring you."
"You were ignoring me." At his glare, she amended, "Okay not the point, right now, got it." They both huffed a laugh. "But yeah, I forgive you too. I'll always forgive you."
They sat around for a while after that, catching up on the weeks they'd been distant. Tom told her about all the girls he'd fooled around with. Hermione admonished him, but couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculous stories about them. The outlandish things these girls did to seduce him made both of them laugh very hard.
Hours later, the two best friends were slumped all over the couch, and each other. The physical act of just touching brought more comfort than they could have imagined before.
Tom broke the mood later when he remembered something. Hermione could sense his mood change, so she was prepared when he asked her, "So why did you go out with him?"
"Well, I told you why I chose him, but I guess I kinda left out the worst part."
"The worst part? Did he touch you? I'll kill him if he—"
"Oh no, nothing like that. Calm down, really." His eagerness to defend her annoyed her and amused her at the same time. Tom had a way of bringing mixed emotions to her. "No, I guess the date went better than I planned."
"What does that mean?"
Nervously, she answered his blunt question. "It means that I would like to see him again."
Hermione thought the vein in his temple might just burst. She was impressed at how well he hid his outrage. He had gotten better, she had to admit. He would never be able to fool her though. Really, why did he even try?
"Oh."
"Oh? That's all you have to say?" She teased, his opinion on the matter strewn all over his puce face.
"No, but that's all I have to say that won't result in you being mad at me." She laughed.
"Fair enough." She conceded. "Promise me you'll at least give him a chance?"
"I will make no foolish promise such as that."
Her lingering smile began to fade. "Then promise me you will respect me enough to let me make my own decisions and support me in them." Her tone no nonsense and her eye brows lifted, expecting an answer and expecting it to be the right answer.
He hesitated. Hermione let him. He could hesitate all he wanted, but they both knew he would capitulate. She saw it the moment he gave up. His eyes lost their burning, and then he confirmed it with a shallow nod.
"Thank you."
"Yeah, well, I'll be here when you figure out he's a wanker."
"Point made, Tom. Now let it go."
She pushed herself off the couch, pulled him to his feet and they made their way back down to the dungeons, their friendship stronger than it had ever been.