Cor phlebotomans

“Oh yes Tom and Miss Granger, I am looking forward to seeing you tomorrow evening! I thought that this time we will be having ice-cream as a desert even if it is October.”, Slughorn said with a jolly voice, licking his lips subconsciously. “Ah, and you too Mr. Malfoy, what a shame that you weren’t able to join last time.”, he added with a smile towards the blond boy.

Abraxas Malfoy smiled politely at his Professor, only his eyes betraying that he in fact didn’t want to come to the Slug Club. Malfoy, Hermione mused, didn’t need to go something as trivial as a Club to forge connections. Abraxas was born with them.

“It will be a pleasure as usual”, Tom said with a small nod in Slughorn’s direction. The Professor seemed elated.
“Why am I still invited?”, Hermione blurted as soon as she and Tom had left the class room.
“You are a brilliant student. Slughorn won’t let you get away. He has high hopes for you for sure.”, Tom answered in a nonchalant way. Did he just call her clever?
“In case you didn’t notice, nobody wanted me there. Slughorn must have seen how uncomfortable everybody had been.”, Hermione answered wondering why she always ended up talking to Tom of all people.

“Not nobody”, Tom answered, his voice barley above a whisper.
“What?”, Hermione answered, turning his way. Who had wanted her there?
“Don’t you think that the weather is unusually good for October?”, Tom suddenly said and the sheer weirdness of Tom speaking of the weather was enough to make Hermione forget about their previous conversation.

“I suppose… Been nice talking to you Tom, I gotta, well, go”, Hermione said, finally getting herself to just let Tom be and leave.

“Just a second Hermione”, he said, reaching for her wrist just as she was about to turn away “due to the good weather, you surly must feel the desire to pay Hogsmeade a visit. I have noticed that you haven’t been there a long time.”, Tom looked horribly uncomfortable as he said this, there was a light tinge of red in his cheeks.
“Right, well I have found the clientele in Hogsmeade to be lacking…”, she answered, still mystified what he was getting at and trying to not let him notice how much it affected her that he was still holding her wrist. Why wouldn’t he just let go?

“Go with me to Hogsmeade. It seems like you could use the distraction Hermione.”, Tom finally managed to say and it was more of a command than a question. His eyes had lost their warmth and he was looking at her as if willing her to accept.

Hermione laughed, her heart doing odd things in her chest. She ignored it.
“Why on earth would I go with you, Tom?”, she said, her tone venomous. He just wanted her for her knowledge, her mind whispered. Every nice thing he would say, everything he did, was just to lure her in and make her tell him everything she knew.
He still looked uncomfortable but his eyes were turning darker and darker by the second.
“I know your secret, I don’t really think you have a choice in that matter.”, he hissed, cheeks turning even redder. It stood in stark contrast to the rest of his pale skin. Well, that sobered Hermione up pretty quickly.

He was so much taller than her. It was a bit intimidating the way he leaned a bit down to her, towering over her.

“You won’t say anything”, she hissed, looking around them and checking if anyone was listening in. They were alone.
“Not if you agree”, Tom said, smirking, thinking he had won.
“Fuck off”, she hissed again but knowing that she had to relent. She wanted to scream. She started walking again instead.
“That wasn’t a no”, Tom laughed, catching up to her. Was he laughing at her? She didn’t dignify it with an answer.
“5 o’clock in the common room don’t be late!”, he called after her as he finally turned away. She hated him, she truly did. Her hands were still shaking minutes after her encounter with him, her mind going back to his dark eyes.

~

“I am going to Hogsmeade today, do you need anything?”, Hermione asked Lucretia who was sitting on her bed looking at her homework blankly. Curious Hermione approached and looked over her shoulder.

“The answer is devil’s snare, it doesn’t like sunlight.”, she said, after reading the question.

“Thanks, I was wondering what strange plant doesn’t like sunlight and no, I don’t need anything. Are you going with anybody?”, Lucretia asked while scribbling the answer on her sheet.
“Yes, unfortunately.“, Hermione said bitterly.
“Whom?”
“Tom, but it is not what you think. He blackmailed me into going.”

“Tom?”, Lucretia pushed her homework away. “Why would Tom blackmail you into going into Hogsmeade with him? Why not just ask?”

“He asked, I said no. I don’t want to go with him. I don’t know what he gets out of this.”, Hermione answered, still angry at Tom. He was such a manipulative bastard.
“How interesting”, Lucretia said, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe I was wrong…”

“What are you talking about?”, Hermione asked nonplussed.

“You are wearing that?”, Lucretia suddenly asked, pointing to her form. What was it with Slyhterins and changing the topic so fast today?
“Yes… I am…”
“Well, we can’t have that”, Lucretia said, jumping up from her bed and walking over to Hermione’s trunk. “Just in case, I am indeed wrong.”, she added under her breath.
“What are you doing?”
“Wear this, believe me.”, Lucretia said, throwing at her a blue dress in sailor style. It was cute but why did Hermione have to change?
“I’ll just…”, Hermione gestured to the bathroom, still a bit taken aback by the whole exchange.
“Yes, just go ahead.”, Lucretia said dismissively like this hadn’t been her idea all along.

Five minutes after five o’clock Hermione finally came into the common room. Lucretia had made her wear fitting shoes and even if they were beautiful Hermione had definitely worn shoes that had been more comfortable.

Tom was leaning against the piano, fiddling with his ring. It made Hermione feel slightly sick when looking at it. A part of Tom was living in that… thing… It was an unhinging thought.

”You are late”, Tom said not paying attention to the other students in the room. They didn’t notice the exchange, too immersed in their own conversations. He turned around, finally looking at her, his gaze roving over her body. When his eyes finally returned, he looked hungry and Hermione involuntarily took a step back. Tom smirked, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Suddenly warmth rushed through Hermione and nervousness made her hands shake a little.

“Shall we?”, he asked, offering his arm that Hermione only took after hesitating for far too long. She was so unsure as to what exactly was happening and if there was one thing that Hermione Granger didn’t like, it was not knowing.

“You look beautiful as always”, Tom remarked as they left the common room, silence enveloping them. The hallways were deserted, the walls cold and grey.
“Don’t be stupid.”, Hermione answered. Tom seemed taken aback. She watched emotions flitter through his eyes. He glanced at her. She looked away, feeling hot again.
“Why am I being stupid?”, he asked, tone truly curios.
“What is the reason behind this, Tom? I know it is not because of the weather.”
Tom seemed to be uncomfortable again. It was weird seeing Tom being uncomfortable about anything. He was always so smooth, nothing could bring him out of balance. Or so she had thought. His thumb graced the ring on his finger again, smoothing over the dark stone. He was walking very closely to her, Hermione thought. A little too close to be strictly polite.

“I think… I overstepped a line with… well, using Legilimens”, he finally managed to say, his voice strained.
“So the best course of action was to blackmail me with what you had seen?”, Hermione asked nonplussed.
“Well, no but… I didn’t see much, it was just the things in the forefront of your mind. I have to admit that you memories didn’t explain anything. I saw a lot of dead people and saw your pain at their death but I didn’t catch any names. I saw the two friends of yours and you camping?”, he added a bit confused. He seemed genuine. Relief swept through Hermione. “I saw you somewhere with some woman over you and pain, a lot of pain.”, he trailed off, his brow furrowing, his dark eyes glinting in an emotion that Hermione couldn’t name, or at least couldn’t be bothered to look at more closely.

No names… no names… Harry was safe…

“Who was that woman?”, he suddenly said. Out of all things, he asked this?
“Bellatrix, she thought I stole something out of her vault in Gringotts.”, Hermione answered.
“Did you?”, Tom asked, curious, a small smile playing his lips, although his eyes were still unnaturally dark.
“Well I did afterwards. It seemed like it was important to her.”, she said with a no nonsense tone. Tom looked at her, his eyes twinkling.
“You broke into Gringotts?”
“Yes, it wasn’t as hard as people always make it out to be. I was, what, seventeen at the time? And my friends were, too.”

Tom started to laugh. It was a real laugh and it made Hermione feel warm inside. Her heart ached. With a start she realized it wasn’t, for once, because of Harry, Ron or the others. No, it was for Tom. Because Tom had so much potential but life a played him cruelly. Growing up in an orphanage was terrible at the best of times, Hermione didn’t want to know what he had to endure. There had never been any love in his heart. His life had been ruled by hatred, pain and cruelty. It pained her to hear his laugh, so human and so normal when she knew what he would become, when she knew how much his soul was already tainted by the circumstances of his life.

“That, Hermione”, he said after finally stopping to laugh, “was the best thing I have ever heard in my life.”
“Yes, well…”, Hermione trailed off, not sure what to answer.
“Was that the only reason she…”, his jaw clenched, and his hand seemed to reach for her before he let them fall at his sides again. “Why she tortured you?”
“No, not really. She just didn’t like me very much. Well, more like who I am.”, Hermione murmured, looking at the ground.
“What you are?”, Tom asked, looking at her frowning.

Why was Hermione telling him these things? Nothing good would come of this. She shouldn’t be talking to Tom about anything. But something deep inside of her, wanted Tom to understand, for him to realize what he would become and be just as disgusted by it as Hermione was. Hermione didn’t answer Tom and they stood in silence with her trying to avoid his eyes.

“The reason for this trip”, Tom suddenly said, changing the subject and breaking the silence. “I, well, I needed to apologize. Because of the Legilimens stuff. I won’t do it again.”, he said while not looking at Hermione, this time it was him who was avoiding her eyes. His jaw was clenched and the words seemed as if they were dragged out of him by force.
“Well, I find that hard to believe you”, Hermione said hauntingly. As if she would take any for his words as the truth. He had done it once, now she would be more on guard but she wouldn’t past him to try it again.

“I swear on it… I am even prepared… I… Hermione I am even prepared to swear on it. Make an unbreakable vow that I will never use that on you lest you gave me permission.”, Tom grit out and he finally looked at her. His eyes were like a dark stormy sea. They pulled her under a spell and they made her drown in the rushing of her own blood. He looked so deathly pale that Hermione wanted to reach out and touch his marble-like skin to see if he was indeed human.

“What?”, she blurted out.
They came to a halt. Carriages were in front of them. They needed to choose one. No one moved. Hermione watched the Thestrals for a second.

“I will take it. I want to show you that I really am sorry and that I won’t do it again.”, Tom said matter of factly.
“What?”, Hermione repeated, not daring to hope. How could Tom ever be sorry for anything? Voldemort was a coldblooded murderer.
“Hermione, don’t be stupid.”, he said smirking.
“Why would you do that?”, she asked, voice barley above a whisper. What would he get out of that?
He only raised an eyebrow not dignifying her with an answer.
“Prove it”, Hermione said.

He held out his arm, wand ready. She grasped it, her skin burning from the contact. His hands were just as pale as the skin of his face as he in turn grasped her arm, his fingers digging into her skin. His hands were lined with blue veins that shone through the thin protecting layer. They looked so… human… they looked like Harry’s hand, like Ron’s hand but much more elegant. His fingers were long and straight not crooked and short or constantly covered in food grease like Ron’s had been.
“Do you, Tom Riddle, promise to not invade my mind with Legilimens ever again without my permission?”, her voice was trembling.
“Yes, I do.”, Tom said, his voice steady and without any doubt behind them.

White lines appeared out of thin air that slung themselves around their arms, manifesting the vow. For a few seconds they were linked, they were bound together. She felt his magic rushing through her and in nearly brought her to her knees. The sheer power and darkness of him was overwhelming.
Then the lines disappeared, leaving behind a heavy silence. No one moved. When Hermione finally glanced up, Tom was already looking at her, his eyes dark and full of… something.

“Do you believe me now, Hermione?”, he whispered.
“Yes, Tom, thank you.”, she said, purely because she felt like it was the right thing to say. “You don’t know how much that means to me…”, she added.
She will never betray Harry, she thought with a great sense of relief. Voldemort wouldn’t know more than he did in this moment, which wasn’t much. They were safe. She had done everything she could from the past. She wasn’t completely useless.

Tom only nodded. Their hands were still grasping each other. Slowly he let her arm slip away, his thumb trailing over her skin, leaving behind a burning sensation. He didn’t let go of her hand, however. Hermione felt numb and on fire at the same time.

“Can you see them?”, he asked in whisper after a beat of silence.
Hermione only nodded again. Of course she could see the Thestrals. She had seen enough death to last a few lifetimes.
“Me too”, he said, still holding her hand lightly which made her more confused than ever. Especially because she didn’t let go either.
“Come”

Only in the carriage did he let go of her hand.
The weather really was good for October, Hermione begrudgingly admitted. The sun shone down on the both of them and Hermione paused several times along the way just to stand with closed eyes and to let the sunshine warm her skin. It had been too long.

Tom didn’t try to take her hand again and Hermione was glad. She wasn’t sure what she made of the short time that he had held it in his much larger one. She did not know what to make of that she had liked it.

They strolled through the streets, chatting lightly. It was absurd. She was chatting with Voldemort. No, she realized, not Voldemort but Tom. She had started to think of them as two people. It was hard not to. Tom was… Tom. Sure Voldemort was there. Tom had no regard for other humans. They had never shown him anything like mercy, so why should he?

He was brilliant, the best wizard that Britain had maybe ever seen. But talking to Tom, it made Hermione think, it made her think that even the worst of the worst once started as just a boy with no one to love him. It made her heart clench for the dark haired boy next to her.

Of course, he bought her a dark chocolate bar for her. It had become some kind of ritual between them, an inside joke.
Together they decided to sit outside the village, away from prying eyes and eat in silence, sharing the dark sweet indulgence. The sun was so warm, it made the chocolate melt in her hands. It made everything sticky but Hermione didn’t particularly care. Tom frowned, feeling obviously uncomfortable with his now dirty hands. Hermione laughed at him. Of course Tom was a neat freak.

The grass beneath their fingers was soft and green. She leant back, her head resting against the cold ground. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in over a year and of all the people it was with Tom. Why was she so strange?

“I haven’t had chocolate for such a long time before coming here.”, she said in a low tone, her lips smiling slightly.
“Well, you are still really thin… I imagine they don’t feed their students that well anymore in the future.”, Tom said, his tone unreadable. But it was obvious that neither he nor she believed that he really thought Hogwarts’ negligence was to blame for her gaunt look.

“We seldom had food.”, she whispered. “We were constantly running. We didn’t have time to think about food when we were being hunted, not when we were captured and not when we finally broke free…”, she said but Tom didn’t answer.

His hand found hers again. It was barley touching her hand. It could have been unintentional but with Tom nothing ever was unintentional. She didn’t know what she was doing but she didn’t want to stop. Even if this man next to her was to become Voldemort.

Hermione couldn’t deny that it was Tom who made the best partner for conversation. His insight in all magical things was fascinating. She could argue with him for hours or discuss any given topic without getting bored. She remembered Ron, they never could hold a conversation for longer than a few minutes. He always wanted to talk about Quidditch, she wanted to talk about anything else. But with Tom it was different. He matched her in every aspect, in intellect, in curiosity and in the need to understand and learn things. It was wonderful. With him she felt understood and valued not looked down at because she was a know-it-all.

The last few months she had had these episodes. She knew they weren’t normal just as her nightmares weren’t normal. She only had to see something that resembles something from the war and she would fall into a rabbit hole of despair, pain and agony. One time it had been a first year with hair like Harry, once it had been someone pulling their wand too fast and one time it had been Lucretia in the middle of the night when Hermione had returned from a bathroom trip. The girl had stood outside the room, whether it was to check up on Hermione (who had had another vicious nightmare) or to use it herself, she didn’t know.

Hermione just remembered that she had opened the door and had seen the woman in front of her. Bellatrix her mind had screamed at her, they have found me. She had screamed like a mad woman, her arm throbbing, Mudblood, Mudblood ringing in her ears. She remembered falling in her haste to scramble back, her wand pointed at the other girl’s face. She remembered Lucretia’s fear filled face. That had positively not been a normal reaction on Hermione’s part. The next day, Lucretia had avoided her a bit, even after Hermione had apologized.

Then there had been times that it had been the complete opposite of her over-the-top reactions. When she felt detached from herself, when she felt like another person and she herself was only watching. Somehow this was even worse than the fear and pain. It made her feel so detached and so unhuman. PTSD… That was what it was. Hermione wished she could just look up how to self-medicate PTSD.

However, with Tom it was different. He made her feel like herself like no one else did. Whether it was because he made her infuriated and made her want to argue or because he made her hold her breath and heat coil low in her belly. He made her care again, when she was around him, she didn’t feel hollow anymore.

She was aware of the hand that was touching hers with a burning intensity, his fingers felt cold to the touch and made Goosebumps erupt along her arm and her breath come irregularly. She turned her head to face Tom and he mirrored her movements. None of them said anything. The gazed at each other, his eyes so impossible dark but so full of something… His hand twitched and Hermione thought she would explode, her body was on fire. She just wanted to do something to break this silence that hat settled over them but at the same time she wished it would never end. Every second their gazes stayed on each other felt like a nail to her coffin. Every second was irrevocable, every second was too long but not enough at the same time. They would not be able to come back from this. She couldn’t look away. His face was stony; his long neck just as pale as the rest of him. Hermione’s gazes finally broke away but just to flicker down to his mouth. Red lips standing in stark contrast to his pale complexion… Hermione’s heart pounded.

“Tom”, she whispered, her voice a touch too desperate for her liking. She didn’t know what she was doing but she felt so alive, she felt so safe and that with Tom out of all people.
His gaze, if possible, became even darker at her whisper, it was downright hungry and predatory. His muscles seemed to tense all over his body. His jaw clenched.

“Hermione”, he said back, his voice raw. It was too much. Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. Throwing caution in the wind and just not caring anymore, she surged forward just to be caught by Tom’s lightning reflexes.

He caught her, she had trusted him to. He kissed her back when their lips finally touched in a frantic search of each other. She was on top of him, she felt him finally, all of him. She had wanted this so much and now everything faded into the background, the only thing she could feel were Tom’s hand and his lips moving against her. His scent surrounded her and made everything feel warm and safe, his hands went down her back and up again.

Tom’s breath hitched with every new place of skin he was able touch and he pressed further into her with an astonishing urgency. Suddenly, with one fluid motion, he flipped them. Her back was pressed against the cold ground, grass tickling her exposed flesh. She couldn’t care less. His mouth descended on hers again. He kissed her neck and she arched to give him more access, desperate to feel hiss lips on her flushed body, to feel his teeth scraping over her skin.

She opened her eyes, gripped by the desire to see him, to see that she really had an influence over Tom. To see that she affected him just as much as he did her. Tom’s hair was in disarray, falling into his face, his face was flushed and his eyes… his eyes were full of primal hunger, hunger for her. It made Hermione gasp. The feeling of having that power over him, that she was the one to make him lose control, made exhilaration pound through her body. She was the only one that got under his skin, was able to break through his stone, smooth and cold exterior. What she herself had already given up for that, she didn’t want to consider.

His hands went over the curves of her body again and again, leaving a trail of fire behind them. He let them trail over her thighs, up the inside of her thighs, making Hermione shiver with the pleasure his touch elicited.

They kissed like that for what seemed like hours. Hermione didn’t want to stop, no she wanted Tom. She wanted him so much it hurt. She shouldn’t want him like that, she really shouldn’t. He will kill Harry’s parents. What would her best friends say if he saw her now? Besides, this was the ninety-forties, it was hardly acceptable for her to even be kissing a boy. Did she care? No, she definitely didn’t. But she had to stop, didn’t she? This was unacceptable, he was the darkest and most evil wizard to ever exist. Flashes of a snake like face went through her mind, making her freeze in fear.

Tom trailed kisses down her neck and collarbones, his hand clutched her waist as if he didn’t want to let her go, as if he had heard her thoughts and wanted to show her just how wrong she was. As if he wanted to show her that he wanted this and that he wasn’t the Voldemort she knew.

They finally broke away, both their breaths laboured. She knew that her faced must be flushed and her hair resembling a nest. But she didn’t care as Tom descended one more time to kiss her, making her muscles in her belly clench and a jolt of desire run through her whole body.

When he rolled away again, she instantly missed his warmth. It had been so comforting. She wanted to take his hand, she wanted to curl against him and seek comfort in his scent and steady breathing. She wanted… she wanted to not know about the future, she wanted to just be Hermione and him to just be Tom…
Reality slowly bled into the moment. Tears pricked her eyes. He wasn’t just Tom, he was to become Voldemort, and he had already killed people. He had killed his parents and he had killed Myrtle, he was a murderer.

“We should head back.”, Hermione whispered as she stood up, not even looking at Tom, not daring to look at him. She didn’t check if he was following her, she didn’t even care anymore.