CW: Mention of teenage sexuality
Hermione and Theo carefully arranged the crypt before leaving. They had to get his mother's body back up and onto the dais, and they set her arms across her chest peacefully, making sure there were no chunks of rock left in her hair.
"What will happen to her now?" Theo asked, looking down at her blank face. "Will she decay?"
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "I don't know if your father put any kind of preservation charm on her or anything normal. But bodies aren't meant to last forever. It's probably best if he didn't."
Theo looked at his mother a long moment.
"I can just imagine him coming down and finding nothing but bones," he said finally. "His rage—I don't know how he'd react."
"If he reacts violently, come to me directly," Hermione said firmly.
Theo flashed a faint smile at her, his lips quirked.
"Am I under your protection now?" he said, amused.
"For this matter? Absolutely," Hermione declared. "If you join the Shadows, even more so – then you can escape from anywhere, even without a Floo."
"I look forward to seeing how you plan to manage that," Theo said. "At least, without having us splinch ourselves all over the place, trying to Apparate with immature magic or something else dumb."
They left the crypt, closing it behind them. The blood runes on the outside of the door had burned away as well, leaving ash and faint impressions on the door, and Theo shrugged as he shut it.
"Can't do anything about it now," he said. He seemed lighter, less troubled as he led the way back through the crypt and up the stairs. "I don't think he comes down here that often. Maybe I'll get lucky, and he won't check until after I'm back at Hogwarts."
He walked her back up the long staircase, through the secret passages, and back to the Floo. He paused, hesitating at the mantelpiece.
"Hermione," he said finally.
Hermione turned to look at him, and she was surprised to find his eyes open, unshielded, honest.
"Thank you," he told her emphatically, taking her hand. He ran his thumb over the back of it absently, squeezing her hand. "You—I know I asked, but I don't think even I really believed that you'd be able to free her—"
"It's okay," Hermione said, smiling wryly. "I wasn't sure I'd be able to either."
"Still – the fact you even tried—" he tried to explain.
"You called in your favors," Hermione pointed out, and Theo closed his eyes and groaned.
"Hermione," he said. "Will you shut up for a moment? I'm trying to acknowledge a debt of gratitude."
Hermione faltered. "…oh."
Theo held her hand, his thumb running over it nervously.
"I am in your debt," he began, bowing deeply over her hand "You have done me a boon, and I will—"
"You are not," Hermione cut in. She tugged Theo back up, giving him a square look in the face. "I was in your debt, and you called it in. There is no debt here between us anymore – we part without debts, just as friends."
Theo looked startled by this, then suspicious.
"What kind of Slytherin refuses a debt bond?" he asked, eyes narrowed.
"The kind who doesn't need one," Hermione said lightly. "If you ever help me, I'd like it to be because you choose to, not because you feel obligated."
Theo seemed to be mulling this over in his mind as he took the Floo powder vase of the mantel, offering it to her. Hermione tossed it into the fireplace, calling out "Hermione's House!", and the green flames flared to life. She nodded to Theo, who nodded back absently, and it was with relief that she stepped into the flames, where she was immediately sucked through the Floo Network, spiraling through fireplaces, and then abruptly thrown back into her own home, spilling out onto the floor.
"Is this how wizards always travel?" Her father was sitting in the living room, reading, and he raised an eyebrow at her return, amused. "I can't deny the practicality, but it still doesn't seem very dignified."
Hermione coughed, standing up and dusting off her robes.
"Adult wizards can teleport themselves," she explained. "It's dangerous if your magic isn't mature yet, though. So us kiddy-wizards get to hurl ourselves through fireplaces and the like."
Her father laughed.
"At least it's mystical and magical," he quipped, grinning. "Walking into green fire has a certain drama of its own."
Hermione found her mind running over her encounter with Theo over and over again, reliving it. The memory was vivid in her mind, and her body seemed to shiver with the memory of his touch and magic even without her thinking about what had occurred. After getting severely annoyed with herself and her constant spacing out throughout the day, Hermione retired early that night, flopping onto her bed in a frustrated huff. She desperately wanted to tell someone about what had happened, but who could she even tell?
Blaise was straight out, Hermione decided right away. He'd only tease her and use the opportunity to flirt with her to make her face red. Tracey was an option, but Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to tell Tracey, really – Tracey might be the most 'active' of the girls she knew, but Hermione didn't know if she and Adrian had ever gone quite that far. Luna wouldn't see an issue or complication with anything – she'd just blink and ask if she had fun – and Hermione would be far too mortified to tell Susan or Harry about it at all. Plus, she'd promised Theo not to mention about his mum to anyone. Which made things even more difficult – how else was she to explain how they'd ended up dry humping in a crypt?
There was only one person she could tell - the person that wasn't really a person.
Tom Riddle was pleased to hear of her success with breaking the seal.
You infiltrated the curse and changed the meaning? he wrote. That's incredible.
I had to match the signature, Hermione explained, but Theo's magical signature was close enough to his father's that it worked out pretty well.
I should say so, Tom replied. Breaking an advanced Dark Necromancy spell on your first try – well done, Hermione.
Thanks. Hermione's face flushed, even though he couldn't see it. …Tom?
Yes? came the immediate reply.
We had to share magic to get enough to overload the seal. And after… she trailed off, tapping her quill as she tried to think how she wanted to phrase it. There were some unexpected after-effects.
There was a wry, amused slant to Tom's reply.
You were sharing magic, he pointed out. What did you expect to happen?
I've never felt that when sharing magic before, Hermione protested. The only time was when my coven bonded – that felt like my magic orgasmed, honestly. But casting coven spells isn't like that, and we share magic all the time.
You share your collective magic, Tom corrected her. It's your magic as much as theirs whenever you're acting together. Binding together means your magic effortlessly harmonizes. It doesn't have any one person's signature anymore, so it wouldn't feel the same.
That made a kind of sense, Hermione thought. She couldn't imagine if casting every ritual with her coven had felt like sharing magic had.
So it only happens one on one? she asked.
It happens when you share magic with someone who has different magic than yours, Tom explained. It depends on how it's done. It can either be painful or pleasurable. There was a pause in his reply. From your reaction, I'm taking it that you went down the pleasurable route?
He gave his magic to me willingly, and I willingly fed him mine, Hermione replied, her face red. So yes. It felt— she nearly cracked the tip of her quill, writing so hard with embarrassment —good. Really good.
Magic can be like that, Tom told her. High magics, power rushing through you – it's easy to get lost in it. Remember with Fiendfyre, how you felt yourself swept away?
This was different, Hermione argued. Fiendfyre was a challenge for my consciousness to handle. This... this affected my body, Tom. Directly.
And? Tom seemed amused. What do you want to do about it?
I don't know! Hermione scribbled into the diary, frustrated. All I know is all the power was building up, then when it burst his mother went free but the next thing I knew Theo had thrown himself on top of me and we were kissing each other like there was no tomorrow. And I don't even like Theo like that!
You had just shared magic, Tom pointed out. That would have been an intense experience for the both of you, one that ended abruptly and left you hanging.
Yes, but— she broke off, frustrated, scribbling in the margin in a huff as she collected her thoughts. It didn't mean he needed to kiss me, she wrote firmly. If we'd waited and calmed down, everything would have been fine.
Maybe he wanted to kiss you.
Hermione scoffed. In what universe would Theodore Nott want to kiss me?
This one, Tom said promptly. Hermione, you're on good terms with him now, and you just helped him with the one thing that's been the most important to him for years. And he's felt and seen your power firsthand, directly now. He felt your magical core. Do you know how intoxicating that would be for him?
I felt his core, and I wasn't driven wild, Hermione protested.
Nevertheless, Tom responded, I can see why he'd tackle you and want to finish the exchange.
Hermione gnawed on her quill, contemplating.
It was just… awkward, she admitted. Not during – I wasn't really thinking then – but after, after he climaxed. I realized what we were doing when I heard him, and suddenly I was incredibly self-conscious of everything and didn't really know what to do.
It jolted you out of the moment, Tom wrote knowingly. Knowing you, I'm not surprised. Your mind kicks on and over-analyzes everything at the drop of a petal.
Can you blame me? Hermione retorted. We were making out and dry humping each other in his dead mother's crypt!
There was a pause, and a rapid flurry as Hermione explained what both of those terms meant to Tom, who wasn't familiar with such language in his time.
Regardless of what caused it, wrote Tom, gracefully side-stepping the 'dry humping' bit, you were both swept away in the experience. Sensual experiences like that cloud the mind. Your body floods your system with feelings and sensations designed to make your mind take a back seat and just let go.
That's not me, though, Hermione argued. How am I supposed to stop thinking?
Have you truly never managed that? Tom queried. Was the start of this encounter genuinely the first time?
Hermione took a long moment to think, toying with her quill.
No, she wrote slowly. With Cedric, I remember thinking while kissing him, but with Fleur, I remember feeling like I was melting. I was always just swept up in the moment with her.
So it's possible for you, then, Tom pointed out. You probably just need some practice and experience. It's not instinctual for everybody, to turn their mind off and just enjoy. It can be hard to let go.
Hermione snorted. Practice? I can't exactly take 'remedial snogging' at Hogwarts.
I'm sure you could find a partner willing to practice with you. Tom's words were straightforward, and yet they made Hermione flush. If nothing else, I would happily volunteer.
You? Hermione's reply was a disbelieving scribble of ink. You would give me snogging lessons?
I would teach you to embrace your physical body and let go, Tom corrected her. If you grant me a body of magic to embrace you with, Hermione, I would be happy to help you turn your brain off with whatever experiences you desire.
Hermione stared at the diary, incredulous.
You're just a horny 16-year-old boy, she accused. You don't even have a body. How does a fraction of a soul still have a sex drive?
Tom's reply seemed amused. You would be surprised.
Huffing, Hermione shut the diary firmly and went to sleep.
