Chapter Eleven: A Tender Good-night

When they were freed from detention, Tom and Hermione were expected to do their rounds before they could return to their dorm. The pair walked in silence, and Tom stuffed his hands into the pockets of his robe. Hermione knew he was trying to keep from touching her, and it gave her a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She hadn't meant to put him off. Hadn't she wished to be with him in the first place? More than once she tried to work up the nerve to touch him first, but after about half an hour she still hadn't managed to do it.

"Granger, what are you thinking about?" he finally asked, pulling her with him to lean against the side of the astronomy tower.

"Things," she answered softly.

"What sort of things?" he prompted.

"You were right when you said I was hurt," she said softly, not looking at him. "My two best friends, the two people who have always relied on me in the past, suddenly ditched me at their most desperate hour, and it hurt a lot."

"Desperate hour?" he repeated curiously. "What could be so desperate to a couple of students?"

"Nothing," she said. "Really, it's nothing. They just let me down when they left me out, that's all. Besides, I can't explain any more of it to you without letting you in on future events, which I promised I wouldn't do."

Tom laughed. "And you always keep your word, don't you, Hermione?"

"I try to, yes," she answered, feeling a bit defensive now.

His fingers traced along the oval of her face, then slid into her hair as he brought her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. "I have never been good at that sort of thing," he admitted with a smile. "I don't know, I guess it's just not in me to be good."

"Do you really believe that, or is it a convenient excuse?" Hermione inquired, her tone slightly bitter as she spoke. He could see that he had struck the nerve again.

"Wow, where does that come from?" he asked, holding up his hands as if at gunpoint. "It must be something I did that I haven't done yet."

"I'm sorry," she said. "It is, actually. It's just difficult to sort out my feelings from then with the feelings I have now. I'm completely uncertain to tell the truth. As to what I should and should not feel, I mean."

"So, if you're mad at me for something, why don't you tell me what I did now, and then maybe I won't do it again," he said in a reasonable tone.

"If it were that easy, don't you think I would be a lot less uncertain about it?" Hermione pointed out. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to know that something I say or do could irrevocably alter what happens in my own past, maybe even to the point of me never going into the library at all. If I don't go in, I won't end up here in the first place, so whatever I did would never happen, and it would keep looping around forever. A girl could get dizzy just thinking about it."

"Great, now you've got my head spinning as well," Tom chuckled. "So what you're saying is, when you went into that room that is, that you were hoping to somehow end up here?"

"Not precisely," she answered as she began to walk again.

"Well then what were you thinking, precisely?" he wanted to know.

"That I hoped I never had to lay eyes on either one of those two gits ever again," she said, but this was only half the truth. Harry had shown her a memory with young Tom Riddle in it, and in the back of her mind ever since had been a heady desire she couldn't get rid of. It was almost like a need, one she'd never expected to have fulfilled. And yet, here she stood.

It took her a moment to realize Tom was staring into her eyes, and then she realized with a start that he could easily have been using Legilimens on her just now. What if he'd seen-well, what if he'd seen everything, including the desire she was just thinking of?

"You're not sneaking into my head, are you?" she inquired lightly, a blush forming on her cheeks.

"Why not? Were you thinking about something naughty?" he teased her, cupping her chin and turning her face up so she had to look at him again.

"That would be taking unfair advantage, reading a girl's thoughts to see if she was thinking of anything naughty-"

Tom's laughter interrupted this tirade.

"What's so funny?" she inquired.

"Hermione Granger, if you know me as well as you think you do, you already know that I have never claimed to be overly fair. I am an opportunist, love. Surely that would be more apparent as I mature."

"Yes, I suppose it is," she conceded. "It's just that you tended to select some much bigger opportunities."

"Really?" he asked with a curious smile. "Like what?"

"Nothing that I would tell you about," she said firmly. "And there's nothing going on out here, either. Why don't we just call it a night?"

She turned and headed for the castle. They hadn't gone into the basements at all to see if any Slytherin activity might be going on, but neither of them particularly cared. Tom followed at a more leisurely pace, allowing Hermione to reach their dorm just a bit before him.

As the portal opened he caught at her elbow, and the two entered together and headed straight for the stairs. When they were about to part company to go to their own rooms, Tom encircled Hermione in his arms.

"Hermione, you really are the most interesting girl I've ever met," he said as he grazed her cheek with his lips. "I've never felt so giddy in all my life, you know. I really hope you did come back here just for me."

"Do you really want me to kiss and tell?" she asked with a playful grin.

"I want a lot more than kisses from you," he admitted, casting her a devilishly handsome grin. She felt her body trembling, and she was certain he felt it, too.

"I'm tired," she said. "It's been a busy day."

"All right," he answered, and his lips briefly claimed hers. "Sweet dreams, sleeping beauty."

"You too, my handsome prince," she said with a smile, and kissed him back before she darted into her room. With a heavy sigh, she fell onto her bed and drifted off to sleep.