Tom packed his things into his bag. It was the last class of the day. He had plenty of time to head back to the dorm to study and work on homework before he had to attend to his head duties.
He wondered how Hermione was doing. Probably dancing away and having fun with Potter. Maybe she would come back to tell him how Potter had asked if he could court her. Tom deserved it if she did.
If it wasn't for Tom's interference, would Potter have asked her out? No, he didn't want to see Potter with the girl he loved. Yes, Tom had finally come to the conclusion that that was the emotion he was feeling. But, he wanted to see Hermione with someone who could protect her and Potter was the best person for that task.
Tom walked up the flights of stairs not paying attention to his surroundings. He was perfectly fine at navigating the school on autopilot.
If Potter had asked to court Hermione then would their relationship change? Would Hermione still consider him a friend? Did she even consider him as a friend now? He had to admit that she treated him differently than everyone else. Was it because she knew the truth about him and was just trying to be polite? No, Hermione was always polite, even when she was being rude. A unique trait that usually only Slytherins and Hufflepuffs possess.
Tom came upon the portrait to his dorm. He flashed his badge to Merlin. Merlin Dabberforth, not Merlin the greatest wizard known, was the portrait that guarded his and Hermione's dorm. It frustrated Tom that it wasn't the other Merlin then he could have asked him many questions. Though the old fool probably wouldn't be able to answer any of them, being a portrait and all.
The portrait swung open and Tom entered. He came to a stop and his bag fell to the ground. Hermione looked up at the noise. Upon seeing him, she quickly dried her eyes. His blood boiled to see her in that state.
"Why were you crying," hissed Tom. He scolded himself. He had not meant for his voice to come out so venomous and cold.
"Sorry," apologized Hermione. She got up off the couch and started to head to her room. She was still wearing her dress. Tom walked after her and stopped her from getting away from him.
"Did something happen?"
Hermione looked up at him with a startled expression. "You were serious about wanting to know?" Tom gritted his teeth. Did she just see him as being fake? That his emotions were nothing but a facade? Though, he hadn't let her know that his emotions were more real and not just a facade ever since he told her the truth behind his conception. He felt Hermione's shoulders sag beneath his grip. "It was Fleamont."
Tom's hands curled into fists. He let go of her shoulder and moved to the door. He was going to kill Potter. He had trusted the Gryffindor only for Potter to turn around and do something that had hurt Hermione.
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked nervously.
"To kill Potter," admitted Tom through clenched teeth.
He heard Hermione gasp behind him. The heels of her shoes clicked against the brick flooring. Then, to Tom's surprise, she clasped her tiny fingers around his wrist. "You will do no such thing," she said haltingly.
Tom turned on her with a narrowed gaze. "He hurt you."
Hermione shook her head. "No he did not. All he merely did was confess to me. I'm sad because it made me realize that I do have feelings for someone who's not him." Tom felt his heart clench. It was a relief that Potter had not harmed her. Now, he wouldn't have to harm someone she considered a friend. But that still left the question, who did Hermione's heart belong to?
Hermione let go of him when she felt him relax. Would she grab him again if he tensed up? Merlin, he was becoming like every other boy. As much as it pained him, he would have to ask Abraxas for some advice.
"Who do you have feelings for?" Did he really want to know the answer to that particular question? It didn't matter, it seemed as if it was something Hermione wasn't comfortable with answering.
Her face flushed a deep crimson that made her freckles pop out. She fidgeted in her spot, never looking at him. "Someone who cannot return the feelings."
Did that mean she had a crush on the groom's, Prewett and Weasley? Or-Tom eyes widened as the truth slammed into him. For being as smart as he was, he was quite dumb. "Me?" His voice was a breathless question.
Her eyes widened to the size of saucers and her beautiful crimson blush turned a ghastly white. "No."
"Oh." Tom didn't believe her. She refused to look him in the eye and her reaction was a bit extreme. Fine, if she wasn't ready to tell him the truth then he would wait.
"Um." Hermione fidgeted some more. "Maybe I should change," she pointed to her room.
Tom decided to laugh, hoping it would ease the tension. "Can't have you patrolling in that dress. You would cause too much of a distraction."
He had the pleasure of seeing her blush before she darted off into her room. He would have to ask Abraxas for some good jokes since his' always seems to backfire with his little witch.
When Hermione didn't leave her room, Tom sat down to do some homework. He went to grab his bag but it wasn't there. Tom looked up to find the bag lying by the portrait where it had dropped, forgotten, a few minutes ago. "Accio." The bag slid across the floor until it landed at his feet. Tom dug out his books and finished the small amount of homework he had.
The time neared around ten. Tom closed his books and got up. He stretched his back and arms. He caught movement in the corner of his eye. Hermione stood in the middle of her doorway, openly admiring him. A small blush was spread across her nose and cheeks. She visibly shook herself into action. The black robes of her school uniform swished around her ankles. He wished she was still wearing that alluring dress. Holding off for her verbal confession may be harder than he originally thought.
They walked down to the Great Hall in silence with Hermione slightly behind him. He had already slowed his pace down and every time, Hermione slowed down hers. He wondered why she was struggling so much with being around him. Others their age never seemed to have this much trouble with coming to terms with their feelings. Or maybe they did? Tom was so detached from the student population that he rarely ever paid attention to those types of matters. He mainly only cared about one's' background and wealth.
They found the Great Hall filled with the prefects. Tom and Hermione were the last to arrive.
"Did anything happen today?" asked Tom.
"I caught Skeeter and Relkin snogging in the third floor corridor," said Diggory, a fifth year Hufflepuff. Skeeter. Tom recognized that name as belonging to a Slytherin. Wasn't she too young to be snogging?
Hermione snorted beside him. Tom turned toward Diggory. "I think twe-"
Hermione elbowed him in the side. "Twenty points is too much for a simple snogging. Even if it is Skeeter."
Tom wondered what she meant by her words but nodded anyway. "Fine. Ten points each. Anything else?" When no-one else spoke up, they broke apart. Tom and Hermione patrolled the fifth floor this time.
Patrolling wound up being uneventful. They found no-one out misbehaving. And the worst part was that Hermione wouldn't talk to him.
After an hour, they decided to head back to the dorm. If any of the prefects had found something they would have sent a message. So far, they received no messages. The portrait closed behind them. An hour. One entire hour with only Hermione speaking to him once. And that was to scold him for trying to take away too many points.
He felt Hermione shift beside him. Before she could leave, he grabbed her arm. What was he doing? Didn't he just promise to wait for her to come to terms with her feelings before he acted on his just a little while ago?
"Tom?" She looked up at him for the first time that night. Gold flecks swirled deep within her brown eyes. Her eyes flashed down to his lips and her tongue flicked out. To hell with waiting. For once, Tom decided to not use his words. He took a step closer to Hermione. Leaning down, Tom pressed his lips to hers. Hermione gasped beneath him and opened her mouth.
Tom brought a hand up to her chin while he wrapped the other one around her waist. With his hand resting below her chin, he tilted her face up and deepened the kiss. Hermione's tongue flicked out and tenderly touched his lower lip. Opening his mouth to allow her entry, her tongue slid in and began exploring. She tasted both salty and sweet with a hint of mint.
He pulled her closer and slowly walked them toward the wall. When Hermione's back hit the wall, he picked her up. Without needing to be told, she wrapped her legs around his waist, never breaking away from the kiss. Now he knew why the other students would risk losing house points just to hook up after curfew. Kissing was a completely new experience. Kissing Hermione was just plain intoxicating.
"What is going on in here!"
Tom sprung away from Hermione with no warning that she plummeted to the ground. Standing in the now open doorway was professor Merrythought. "I come over here to discuss your future as a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Mr. Riddle to find you behaving like the rest of the student body." Tom watched from the corner of his eye as Hermione picked herself up off the ground. He was happy to see that she appeared to be uninjured. "As heads, the two of you should be setting disciplinary rules, not breaking them!"
"Sorry," mumbled Hermione.
Tom was seriously tempted to hex her, even if she was a professor when her words finally registered. "You are going to accept me?" Tom's dream, not his true dream, was to become a professor at Hogwarts. Specifically, professor Against the Dark Arts. A student who graduated from their seventh year may be asked to intern with a current professor for three years to learn to become a professor.
Professor Merrythought nodded her head. "Headmaster Dippet informed me of your interest in becoming a professor. I was on my way over here to personally invite you to become my apprentice." She glanced over at a frazzled looking Hermione, the disdain evident on her face. "Meet me in my office tomorrow morning to discuss the things you need to do to prepare for becoming an apprentice." With a final sneer at the two of them, the professor left.
"I'd forgotten that you wanted to be a professor," squeaked Hermione quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. She looked up at him with warm eyes and a smile. "Congratulations."
Tom smirked before crossing over to her. "Maybe you should give me a present." He leaned down to claim her lips but she backed away from him.
"Maybe we shouldn't be doing anymore of that."
His heart sank at her words. There was no way you could kiss someone like that then refuse them a minute later. Her kiss was too intoxicating. He was too intoxicated by her kiss to be denied. Wait, what did Hermione mean by forgotten? He had never told her about his aspirations for becoming a professor. "What do you mean by forgotten? How did you know that I wanted to become a professor? I never told you." He saw panic flash through her whiskey colored eyes. Her breathing became shallow and she tried to dart away from him. He put his palms against the wall on either side of her, boxing her in. "Tell me," demanded Tom.
Hermione's gaze flicked to his lips. The panic in her eyes was replaced by a sudden confidence. A smirk appeared on her soft lips before she stood up on her tiptoes. She clamped her lips over his and kissed him fiercely. All thoughts of betrayal and questions melted from Tom's mind. The only coherent thought on his mind was how intoxicating his little witch tasted.