Chapter Twenty-seven: We'll Always Have Paris

"This has got to be the biggest tub I've ever seen," said Hermione as she came up for air and shook her wet curls out of her eyes. "It's more like a swimming pool, really."

Tom chuckled as he watched her through the mirror by the sink. He was brushing his teeth, and taking his sweet time about it, too. He could tell she was starting to get impatient when she snorted irritably at his lack of an answer.

"Those have got to be the cleanest teeth I've ever seen, too," she added pointedly.

"Oh, yes?" he answered, toothbrush still in mouth. "How many sets of teeth have you actually checked for cleanliness? Half a dozen? More?"

Hermione sent a wordless hex right toward his delectable—if still clothed—arse. It miffed her further that Tom had second-guessed this as well, and easily blocked it, chuckling as he did so.

"Was there something you wanted, Miss Granger?" he inquired innocently.

"Yes, as a matter of fact there is," she answered. "I'd like to see you in this huge, heart-shaped bath tub right this very minute."

Without another word, Tom sprinted to the edge of the tub and dove in, clothes and all. Hermione laughed as she pulled his head up out of the water and proceeded to give him mouth to mouth with great pleasure.

"I forget to mention, your naked body," she added as an afterthought as she began to peel off layer after wet layer. "That part was also important."

"Too late," he chuckled.

"Your pants floated away," she informed him.

"Hmm, I don't think anyone's ever told me that before," he mentioned.

"Doubtful," she agreed as she began to nibble at his lips, then nipped his neck, then on down one of his shoulders.

"Where are you going?" he inquired in a husky tone.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Mmm, I have a feeling I would like to know very much," he said, sighing with pleasure as her head disappeared beneath the bubbles.

#

Several hours later, Tom and Hermione were lying on the huge bed piled high with white furs. Tom was on his back, airing out his well-satisfied cock. Hermione was on her stomach, luxuriating in the softness. Glancing over at her, Tom began to stroke the small of her back.

"Now tell the truth, Hermione, aren't you glad we did this?"

"Infinitely glad," she admitted as she leaned into his touch. His hand smoothed its way to the front of her and caressed her nipple. "More and more glad," she added playfully.

"You want it again already?" Tom inquired with an indulgent smile.

"I love it when you touch me, Tom," she told him as she rolled over to face him.

"I love to touch you, Hermione," he said as his lips meandered along her flesh and took the place of his fingers so they could find another area to explore.

"I never would have believed that, before," she told him as she feathered her fingers through his hair a few times.

"Maybe you can believe this," he answered softly, and began kissing his way lower. Hermione bit her lower lip in anticipation, when suddenly they both heard a loud popping sound.

"What the devil!" shouted Tom as he turned to see who had dared to intrude on their idyllic evening. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Tom, I believe I told you I wanted the two of you to visit me as soon as possible," he said with one brow raised slightly. He could just as easily have been discussing the weather or politics with the mild tone he employed.

"Can't it wait until morning, at least, sir?" Tom asked hopefully.

"Get dressed," said the old man. "Since you're in Paris, you may as well make yourselves useful in a bit of reconnaissance work."

"You have got to be kidding," Hermione said as she glowered at him and wrapped the fur around herself.

"Don't bother, sweetheart," he said. "I'd be more likely to look at him if I was going to bother."

"What a vile thing to say," Tom growled. "I thought you were so old the thing had fallen off by now anyway, truth be told."

"I wouldn't be surprised if it has," he smirked. "I'll be outside. Join me in five minutes—not a minute more."

With that, Dumbledore popped out of the room again.

"So much for the weekend," Tom grumbled.

"We're not actually going to help him, are we?" Hermione wanted to know.

"For now, yes," he said. "At least until I can find out what he's really up to."

Hermione sighed, then chuckled as she said, "Well, he did give us five minutes—"

"I'm way ahead of you," Tom chuckled, and rolled her out of the fur again. "Let's see just how fast you can get dressed when I'm done."

#

"It took you two long enough," Dumbledore grumbled.

"Sir, why are you here?" Hermione wanted to know.

"I'm doing some field work for a bit of research," he explained. "I believe Mr. Riddle might have an idea what I'm talking about. Have you ever heard of something called a horcrux, Miss Granger?"

"Yes," she said, her eyes widened in surprise. "Harry told me all about them."

"Tom, here, unwittingly discovered a book about them as well," he said. "I gave little thought to it at the time, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how easily a dark witch or wizard might be persuaded to make such a thing. Did anyone do so in your time, Miss Granger."

"I—don't know, sir," she said uncertainly. "I thought it would be a bad idea, discussing the future in this time. I'd rather not say any more about it."

"Did you know, Miss Granger, that it is not always an object into which a horcrux might be placed?"

"What else, then?" she wanted to know.

"I have heard they can be placed inside another person," he told her.

"And why should that have brought you here, sir?"

"Because, Miss Granger, I believe such a horcrux may exist already," he said. "However, I am uncertain of how or when it may have been formed."

"A human horcrux?" Tom asked with shocked surprise. "And who, sir, do you believe it belongs to?"

"Gellert Grindelwald," he said as he watched Hermione with avid eyes.