He wanted to jeer at the barmy old man. Because for once, Dumbledore had been proved wrong. And obviously, Tom had been proved right. The proof? The book that was currently flipped open between his hands. It was evidence that love was weak, and not some incandescent savior of humankind.
And Tom loved it when he was right. But not this time. Because being right this time meant that his favorite human (she wasn’t officially a Death Eater yet, but that was something else Tom was working on) was in danger of dying due to some misplaced feelings.
Gritting his teeth, Tom stalked off towards the heads’ dorms. He threw open the doors to their common room to find her sitting on the sofa as per usual, with her nose buried in a book. Like nothing was wrong.
But no, he wouldn’t-couldn’t- stand for this abominable façade of regularity. She had lied to him. She had betrayed him.
Blood boiling, Tom shoved his precious evidence in her face- evidence that took him hours to find because how do you ask the librarian to guide you towards a book about spitting flowers?
“How dare you. Lie to me.” He ground out.
She raised her big brown eyes from the print on her own book to look at the cover of his. “What’s this?” she asked, in that innocent tone that had made him into a fool so many times.
“Who is it?” He ignored her question. He would not be lied to again. She knew what he was talking about.
She scanned the title of his book for an explanation when she found nothing else in his expression. He knew what she’d find- a fantastical story about some dreaded flowers. Hanahaki.
Her brow furrowed, and Tom could just see those beautiful gears roaring to life in that brain of hers. “Huh? No, no Tom I don’t have this- this- fictional sickness caused by love or whatever. It’s just a-”
“Common cold?” He finished for her. It had been the explanation she’d given so many times, ever since he’d caught her having a coughing fit at the start of the year.
Until he’d realized her cold for what it was. “Then how come I spotted you spitting up blood and flowers?”
“I- I-” She stammered. She was stumbling through her piles of lies. What a rare occurrence.
“Who is it?” He repeated. Favorite human or not, he was starting to get irritated. Tom never made it a habit of repeating his words. His breath was precious. But damn her, this was important. And albeit infuriating...she was important.
Hermione looked away now. “It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t- he can’t-” And she faltered on her words. Was she embarrassed? “But I- I- researched it, and I think I’ll be fine until- long enough to complete The Mission.”
The Mission to split his soul. He’d recruited her-specially-to help him with it. Because she was different- she was more. Just like him. She had a past she never talked about, an unquenchable thirst for knowledge….and that air of power. There was no else he'd let that close to him. No one else he'd trust with knowledge of his soul. And now she was going and throwing it all away for some idiotic bloke.
A bloke that probably didn’t even deserve her.
“I need you longer than that.” His mouth was now working without his permission.
By this time, he’d normally be Avada Kedrava-ing anyone else for wasting his time. It's an easier death, he’d tell them.
“Till when? I can-”
“Forever.” He cut her off. He wasn’t thinking before saying at all, was he? He’d never had that problem before.
She sat shock-still for a few moments. Yet again, she was speechless.
So he continued what she would not. “What we need to do is shove some sense into this- this bloke- “ Tom decided he did not like this bloke at all, but helping them get together was better than her death, “And get him to confess to you.”
“But he can’t.”
“Or we can kill him and help you get over him- like you should-” There was a bitter taste in his mouth and a twinge of betrayal. It was puzzling, because love was inconsequential, and no matter what anyone said, Hermione would still be Tom’s-
And then she started laughing. Why did she start laughing?
“Tom you can’t- you don’t know what you’re saying.”
Was it possible for his jaw to clench so hard it shattered? “Is it Abraxas?” He scowled at the image of her on the arm of the blonde death eater. He’d kill Abraxas for this.
She laughed harder.
“Stop laughing.” He ordered her. “You are one of my- greatest assets- you can’t-” die.
Her laughing stopped. “One of your greatest assets, huh?” She repeated. And for some reason Tom thought he preferred her laughing better than that...comment.
Nevertheless, he plowed on. “So if you tell me the name- and I promise not to kill him- we can fix this problem-”
“Well, I’m sorry my feelings are such a problem to you.” Now she had that fire in her voice- how could one person’s expressions be so volatile? So expressive? She was always surprising. Unpredictable.
Tom smiled for the first time in the past week. He knew he’d made her mad now. Good. He liked it when she was mad- she looked powerful then.
“Yes they are. You can't die throwing up flower petals. Because of love." He replied, grimacing at the word love, because that-that emotion in itself- was the true disease.
“And you won’t kill him?”
Not until she was okay.
“No, I won't kill him.”
And now he was curious because she was about to say something reckless. She had that look on her face. That expression that told him that her fire was about to grow to form the lion that she was.
“Good. You can’t. Because it’s you.”
And everything- his thoughts, his plans, his meticulous strategies- all of it scattered like broken glass kissing the floor. And for the first time in his life Tom scrambled to collect himself. Because of the three singular words that had made his world spin on his axis. Because it’s you.
“What?” Such a remarkably intelligent reply. What was happening to him? Love was inconsequential- it was fickle, it was fake it was-
“I’ve fallen in love with you Tom. As unfortunate- or problematic- as it may be.” She said it like she was reciting a textbook during class. She said it like an obvious fact.
Why was it so obvious to her? How was it so self-explanatory? No, no, love made people weak-and why was he feeling this off-kilter anyway? They were just words, just feelings, and feelings are weak- he should be laughing at her and-
And then she got up and walked out of the common room.
And he was left staring at the spot she’d just been in and the book she'd left behind. Still left collecting himself.
His first coherent thought was an answer. Hermione words had him this off-kilter because... because someone loved him. Hermione - his Hermione (yes she was his, always his) loved him.
And love was- love was- Tom had no idea what to think of love anymore.