Chapter Nineteen: Nights

After they'd made love that first night, Hermione and Tom spent more time in his bed than out of it once they'd finished their rounds each night. Halloween was approaching quickly, and Hermione was feeling especially triumphant over the fact that Tom insisted there should be bobbing for apples at the upcoming celebration.

On the night before the big event, the two sat companionably in the middle of his bed doing their homework for Ancient Runes class together. Tom wrote Hermione a letter in runes, and she sat trying to decipher it.

"Gods, your handwriting is terrible even in another alphabet," she teased him. "What is that word right there, anyway?"

"You know what it is," he said with a slight blush.

"No, no, I can't quite make it out," she said, trying to seem sincere. "Why don't you read it to me?"

"It says 'love'," he grumbled. "The whole thing reads, 'I long to make love to you under the moonlight.'" Hermione giggled when next he crawled right on top of their book and laid her back into his pillows. "But of course I'll settle for 'on top of our homework' instead."

"Tom!" Hermione protested weakly, and he knew she didn't really mind at all.

Laughing, he nibbled on the button of her blouse until he managed to work it open with his teeth and tongue, then moved down until only two remained undone.

"I long to make love to you during this century," Hermione protested, and undid the last buttons herself before surging up, pushing him beneath her, and deftly unbuttoning his shirt, growling at the undershirt he always seemed to wear. Not to be denied a moment longer, she ripped the thing from top to bottom, ignoring his protest, and then began administering hot kisses all over his torso.

"I've created a monster," Tom said in mock horror as his hands came up to sift through her hair. He felt her cringe at the words, and instead turned her face so she was looking at him, seeing the slight downward pull of a frown she was trying to hide. "Have I struck a nerve again, Hermione? You must tell me when I do, or how can I avoid doing it again."

"It's all right," she answered, and her voice quivered a little as she spoke. "You can't help it if my past is your future. I'd rather not talk about it."

"You know, Hermione, I was thinking that just because the past on your own timeline happened, that doesn't mean it has to happen again. You're not going to change and not come back here. On your timeline, you already have done it, so perhaps you can repair whatever went wrong so the 'you' on another timeline won't be hurt as you have been."

"I just wish I knew," she sighed as she laid her head on his heart. "Because otherwise, something quite drastic must be going to happen to you, to make you become what you were in my time."

Exasperated, Tom said, "Well, perhaps if I knew exactly what I became in the first place, I could help you figure out what's to be done about it."

"I—can't tell you," she said, and he felt a tear hit his skin. He reached down and wiped at her eye that he could reach, then surreptitiously wiped it onto the tip of his wand where it lay near his pillow. Wordlessly he cast a spell to keep it suspended there until he could have a look at it later on.

"Hermione," he said as gently as he could. "I'd take it all away if I were able. Truly I would."

"No, that's just it," she said. "It's too big of a part of history for you to take back. If you don't do some key things at the right times, I'm really not sure how things would turn out. More lives than just mine were touched by your extended reach."

"Wow," he said with a shake of his head. "So what, I'm going to become the equivalent of somebody really famous, like Merlin, or Nostradamus, or—"

"More like Hitler," she said, but her face was turned into his stomach.

"Who?" he asked her.

"Nobody," she answered solemnly. "Can we stop talking about this now?"

"Sure," he agreed. "I can think of much better topics of discussion."

"I'll bet you can," she agreed, and then he tossed her into his pillows and moved on top of her, making her giggle. "Now what topic could we possibly discuss in this position?"

"Perhaps I could bite rune marks into your neck," he said with a sinister smirk.

"Why would you want to do that?" she asked with a shake of her head.

"It's a territorial thing," he admitted. "Plus, I'm of the opinion you'd taste really good."

"Tom!" she gasped when he started to put action to his words. "Tom, what are you doing? What are you writing on my neck?"

"Hmm, I guess it turned out looking like a letter 'v'," he said.

"You did that on purpose," Hermione huffed. "I don't like that letter at all."

"It looks good on you," he told her.

"I'd rather have had the snake than that letter," she went on, forgetting that he didn't know about the symbol he chose later yet.

"Why are you on about snakes again?" he asked as he rained kisses on her forehead.

"I just am, that's all," she grumbled.

"Forget about the snakes, and forget about the 'v', and just kiss me again, you stubborn witch," he said in a slightly stern manner.

Hermione found that she could not disagree with him as he gazed at her with such an enticing smile on his lips. She pulled him down to her for a passion-filled kiss, and there was no more need for words for quite some time.