"I think… I'm going to kill Dolohov." Tom stated from where he was lounging against a tree.

"Antonin?" Hermione frowned, but didn't lift her eyes from where her Fiendfyre otter was sitting on her palm – and not burning it. "Why?"

"He has a crush on you."

Hermione snorted. "No, Antonin respects me. Malfoy, Malfoy has a crush on me. Cantankerus is jealous and the rest of them are scared shitless.

"They should be."

"No, Tom." Hermione shook her head, smiling sadly at him. "We want more of our followers to be like Antonin. There is nothing wrong with a healthy dose of fear; but it is better for a ruler to be feared rather than loved, but never hated."

"What is that from?" Tom twined one of her curls around his finger.

"It's The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, a muggle author from the fifteenth century." Hermione sighed, closing her eyes.

Smiling down at her, Tom gently tugged on her hair. "Not bad philosophy, for a muggle."

Scoffing, Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "You are such a prat."

"But you love me anyway."

"I do." Hermione smiled softly.

Tom started, he had been joking.

"You don't have to say anything." Hermione gently laid a hand upon his cheek. "I am three years older than you and I understand if you don't feel the same way." Kissing him lightly upon the cheek she turned and headed back up to the Castle.

Watching her go, Tom hoped he hadn't screwed everything up. Sometimes he forgot she was older than him. He wasn't ready for love; lust, he lusted after her. But love? He didn't even know what that word meant.

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"You're a moron." Hermione muttered.

Tom looked offended.

"You left her body in the bathroom." Rubbing her temples, Hermione sighed. "And Myrtle, really? She turns into an obnoxious ghost."

"I'm sorry."

Closing her eyes, Hermione sank down onto the couch. "Please tell me the blame isn't on you."

"Framed Hagrid, stupid oaf had an Acromantula hidden in the Castle." Tom preened. "Dipit believed me, Prefect and all that."

"Dumbledore doesn't and he's the one you need to convince." Hermione hissed.

Tom scowled. "I told him too much."

"He's also a manipulative bastard who wants more power than he will ever let on." Hermione cracked an eye open. "Aren't you going to sit?"

Settling down on the couch, Tom leaned his head back. "What are we going to do?"

"Well." Grinning, Hermione allowed her magic to run along his fingers. "We will be perfect little angels while at school and practice only at Nott Manor."

"How do you do that?"

"Magic." Hermione deadpanned. "Were you even listening?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Of course, I always listen to you, Mia. And I know it's magic."

"I'm not sure." Hermione shrugged.

Arching a disbelieving eyebrow, Tom twinned their fingers together. Hermione's magic continued to run over and around Tom's fingers.

"The more I practice Dark Magic, the greater control I have over manifesting my magic." Hermione leaned her head on Tom's shoulder. "And if I stop practicing 'light magic', I start to lose control. So I'm not sure."

Nodding, Tom stared at their conjoined hands. "You're not angry with me."

"No." Hermione smiled softly.

"I… uh…" Tom shifted nervously. "Talked to Dolohov and he said I had ended out courtship."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not a Pureblood lady. I'm a muggle born who can manifest Dark Magic. I'm also eighteen and in a different time than I was born in."

"How do you know?" Tom swallowed, not sure that he wanted to know but at the same time dying to.

"I want to spend time with you, we don't have to converse, just be together." Hermione frowned, putting into words how she realized she loved him was difficult. "When I discover a new aspect of magic, I want to share it with you. I'd kill for you. Not Lord Nott, not Antonin, and not the two friends from my time; only you."

Tm looked at his hands. "But how did you know."

"I just did." She gently kissed his cheek.

"But…"

Hermione shook her head. "It is not something you can force, Tom. And it's not intellectual. It's something you feel."

"I feel." Tom blushed. "But it's not love."

Laughing, Hermione covered her mouth with a hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. But lust isn't bad."

"You don't."

"Tom, look at me." Hermione smiled. "Trust me when I say I do. I want nothing more than for you to pin me to this couch and have your way with me."

"But?" Tom's eyes gleamed at this new information.

Hermione's smile widened as she glanced at their hands. "Our first time is going to be an explosion of magic as our cores bond."

"Abraxas has slept with a handful of girls and I doubt his magic has combined with any of theirs."

"Well, no." Hermione swung her leg over his lap and hooked her arms around his neck. "They are just fucking. We will be so much more, because I don't plan on putting you aside and I don't think you are going to put me away."

"You're mine." Tom growled.

"And that is what make us different, we claim each other." Hermione leaned down and snuggled into Tom's neck, allowing him to warp his arms around her.

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A/N: Can you say 'yay!' for snow days? Also, I'm very needy and reviews are wonderful. Seriously though, I know how I feel about my story, but other people's opinions are very nice too.