This is my longest chapter yet and I wanted to keep writing! Really I wanted to write more but it's already well over 5,000 words. So I'm doing the rest in the next chapter which I've already started writing.

I'm trying something different. I hope you like it. I didn't like how I did some event in the past couple chapters. But I'm back on track now. This chapter has to explain a lot of what has happened, is happening, and will happen.

I feel bad when I can't comment on your comments! I'm suuuu tired. It's 1:30 am and I want bed. Lol I promise next chapter I will comment on comments. (BTW my goal is to reach 200 reviews . (as in 30 for this chapter) kind of steep i know.)

Lots of bad things happening next chapter. I'm excited!

Oh god yes the title is a freakin beetles shout out. Best band ever! And yes I know it's "All you need is love" but it does say "love is all you need" in the lyrics and I like the tune during those lyrics the best. P

Disclaimer: Do you think JKR is a beetle's fan? Well duh!

Chapter Fifteen: Love Is All You Need

I'm having trouble understanding morality

What a shame it's truly a tragedy

It didn't work over time with depravity

I'll have to find another way around gravity

But at least I am not afraid of me

No, I am not afraid of me

Tabula Rasa. A blank slate. That's what he needed. He needed a way to start all over with the girl. He hated her. She knew him. She knew his past and his future and therefore she could not easily be manipulated. She wanted only his destruction and yet he could not destroy her because of what she held inside of her. That piece of his soul that she refused to part with. What had his future self been thinking? Trusting a piece of his soul inside of a human who would not only be weak but also wish to kill him?

But all was not lost. He knew she felt an inexplicable connection to him regardless of the Horcrux. She had, after all, given him her virginity. And why had she done that? This frustrated him to no end. Why on earth had she given him something like that and willingly? Could she possibly love him? He felt a mixture of amusement and disgust at this thought.

Love. He did not understand it. The way people give themselves completely and fully to another is unfathomable. This act was inconvenient and hindering. People could only do it out of desperation. They must be so pitiful and incomplete that they rely on another to fulfill them. And what a pity that no one can be trusted so love often ends in heartbreak, leaving a person more incomplete and empty than they were before they started. Thank Merlin he was not like that. Love was an absurd concept. He valued himself too highly to get involved with an emotion such as that.

But Miss Granger, now that he knew her true name, wore her heart on her sleeve. It seems that she has loved and loved deeply in the past. But she is also cautious. She is levelheaded: brilliant. She was not the weakest woman he had ever met despite her wide range of emotions. She knew his future self. What a mess he must have put her through for her to hate and fear him as much as she does. And what a charm he must be putting on her now for her to give herself to him despite that.

Tom grinned. He couldn't kill her. And even if he could, quite honestly he did not want to. Not only was the information she had of the future valuable, she was also a very able witch. It was almost a miracle his potion she drank the night before had not killed her.

Tom frowned. An unwelcome and hateful feeling swept through him. He was ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he had not properly constructed a potion. He had failed his task and had almost killed his Horcrux. This surely would have helped the girl accomplish her goal even if she had died in process. Who knows what kind of repercussions that would have on his future self?

Though he was certain… he had to find out exactly how she had come across his Horcruxes and what had happened to them all. All of them.

Hermione drifted in and out of consciousness. She did not know for how many hours. She was vaguely aware of a weak, throbbing pain in her muscles. She ignored it, however, because sleep kept overtaking her and she welcomed it every time it did. Sleep was a relief from the reality she had the misfortune to be in.

Flashes of dreams passed through her mind throughout the night.

She stood in a stone palace, overlooking a forest in a far away land. It was lovely. The carvings on the stone looked middle-eastern.

She was on wide steps that had a shallow stream of water running over them. The steps were thin and smooth. The water threatened to bury them but Hermione did not get swept away in the strong current of water that came. She rode the waves to the bottom of the steps and watched faceless others fall around her.

She sat on a bed with a stranger. He was silent. He was tense. He was some sort of heroic figure. He wanted to talk business. She didn't. She leant her head forward and pressed her forehead against his. She lowered her lips until they were touching his but did not kiss him. She whispered something, brushing her lips over his and he claimed her lips. He kissed her hungrily and she sighed. His kisses grew fiercer and his hands began to roam her body, up her stomach and around her shoulders, just missing her breasts. Hermione couldn't breath. He was becoming too intense. She tried to pull away.

Hermione awoke with a start. There was something stroking her cheek. Her hand shot up to snatch it away and found it was a hand. The hand jerked out of her grasp and she turned in bed to see Tom sitting in a chair beside her, frowning.

"It's about time. I thought you had gone into a coma," he said folding his arms across his chest. Hermione scowled at this and tried to sit up. He moved immediately, forcing her back down onto the pillows.

"Don't try to move!" he ordered harshly. "You're still very weak."

Hermione frowned at him, panicking slightly. Her dream had felt real. Too real. She wondered insanely whether he had been groping her while she slept. But as she stared at him she relaxed. Of all the things he was capable of she did not believe he would do that.

However, she could not remember how she had ended up in her present state. She stared into his face as she tried to remember the night before. She studied the lines and curves, remembering them illuminated by a dim light—possibly fire from a cauldron. Yes, a cauldron. He had been making a potion… For a second Hermione feared that he had been successful in binding her to him like he had tried in Hogsmeade weeks ago. She felt a dull pain coursing through her body, especially in her hand. She lifted her hand to her eyes. There was a small cut along her palm…

Hermione's eyes widened as images of the past night flooded her mind. Memories of the pain… She made a noise of rebellion and sat up so quickly he was unable to prevent her. A shock of pain ran through her entire body and she yelped, falling back onto her pillows.

"I told you not to move," he sneered at her.

"Where's my wand?" she asked immediately. If she was trapped in a room alone with him she could at least be armed. By now she knew better than to trust his presence.

He gestured to the bedside table where it was lying beside her watch.

"Don't look so surprised. You're in no state to attack me anyway," he said casually, raising his eyebrows at her.

Hermione's surprise was replaced by anger at these words.

"Yes, no thanks to you!" she shouted at him.

"You consented to the ritual. You knew it was a risk," he said in a calm voice, though he looked rather agitated. Hermione continued to glare at him. He did seem rather uncomfortable. Hermione wondered incredulously whether he was feeling concern for her.

"I knew it was a risk but I didn't know you had no idea what you were doing!" Again with the trust. How could she convince herself to stop trusting him?

Hermione had hit a nerve. Tom stood up so fast his chair toppled over. He did not respond to her comment but only began pacing the room. She watched him move back and forth along his room. For the first time since she had regained consciousness she took in his present state. He did not look very well either. He looked as though he had not slept, his hair was falling in his face rather than being slicked back and he wasn't even wearing his tie. He was muttering to himself as he walked.

"I calculated every ingredient… I consulted the books… how could I have failed?" He seemed absorbed in this internal conversation.

Hermione sank deeper into his bed. So his only concern was for the fact that he had failed… his ego was hurt… he did not care that she had been harmed in the process. Hermione tried to stop herself but she felt hurt. She turned back on her side, away from him, reminding herself that Lord Voldemort had a tarnished soul and could not feel like she could.

Tom stopped pacing and looked at her, putting his error out of mind momentarily. He could feel her annoyance from across the room. That connection they shared was becoming increasingly useful. He stared at her for a few moments considering her. So she did care for him. Possibly even love him. He smirked at the idea. She loathed him, knew what he was capable of and what he would do better than he even did. Yet here she was pouting that she was not getting his attention.

But if Hermione were to truly care for him… he grinned at the idea… she would not betray him… she would loath him still but not leave him… she would help him become more powerful than before. Perhaps she could be manipulated. People with strong emotions so often could.

His path was becoming clearer and clearer.

He moved around to where he had been sitting before and righted his chair. The power plays were over. He sat and stared into her eyes, not blinking but holding her gaze. He saw he was making her uncomfortable. Good.

"Enough of this," he said finally. "I'm sorry. I was a fool to think I could do what no one before me had ever done. We will wait and see what can be done. For now you need to rest."

He took her hand. She flinched, shocked by what he had just said and afraid of his touch. He passed his wand over her cut and it healed. She stared at him incredulously. His only action after that was to kiss her forehead and leave her to rest in his bed.

Hermione watched the door shut behind him. A dread filled the room in his absence. Hermione could only wonder what he would be up to next.

The next few weeks were quiet, calm, and casual. Hermione was able to finally catch up on the work she had missed. Riddle was keeping his distance, though he would speak to her during class, asking her advice on an ingredient or spell. Everyone seemed to be impressed with Hermione for this. It was rare that Tom Riddle ever needed let alone simply asked for advice on his schoolwork. The mutual consensus around the school was that Artemis Morgen was a genius to match Tom Riddle and that the two were undoubtedly still involved.

Christmas was approaching. Hermione, of course, signed up to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. She had nowhere to go. Tom did as well. Hermione knew what alternative he had. A strange feeling gripped her as she tried to picture him sitting among a group of orphans eating Christmas dinner. It just did not fit.

She was keeping herself ready, however, because she knew that with a majority of the student body gone over the break, Tom would have a perfect opportunity to pull whatever he had been planning. She had not gone back on her word to never trust him again. He was unnerving her. The student body seemed to have forgotten all about the suspicious incident of Hogsmeade and was just as enamored by him as usual. Even Caity still had a suspiciously dreamy look about her since she had run into her and Tom in the corridor several weeks ago. She wondered what sort of powerful charm Tom had used to wipe her memory.

"Artemis! You're staying here for the holidays?" Victoria asked her in the Gryffindor common room one day before break.

"Yes, well I can't go home since I'm a refugee," Hermione replied, sticking to her lie.

"Oh right," Victoria colored. "I'm sorry." She looked a bit awkward. Hermione was about to turn and head up to her dormitory when Victoria spoke again.

"Well, are you going to go to Slughorn's Christmas party next Friday?" she asked slyly. Hermione noticed the rest of the Gryffindor girls were peering up from their potions and charms books to listen in to their conversation.

"Oh- I—" Hermione had not been expecting this question. Of course Slughorn had his Christmas party. She had not forgotten the one she had attended almost two years ago. It had been a complete disaster of course with McLaggen. She had not really considered going again.

"Don't tell me Tom hasn't asked you yet?" Victoria asked wondrously.

"He probably just assumes she's going with him," Elizabeth suggested from behind her Transfiguration book. She was settled in the armchair in front of the fire. "Where do you suppose Dumbledore keeps going?" she asked, changing the topic.

"He's always being called away by the Ministry," a red-haired boy beside her mentioned. He was, Hermione had already figured out after hearing the boys last name was Weasley, an ancestor of Ron. It pained her see someone who reminded her so much of her old life. She looked back to Elizabeth with a heavy heart.

"He'll be the next Minister of Magic. Just wait," Victoria said proudly drawing the room's attention. He was her favourite teacher as well. The rest of the common room mumbled their agreement.

Hermione again moved to leave the common room. She knew what Dumbledore was really up to. It was only a matter of weeks now before he would face Grindelwald… and what it would cost him…

"Wait, Artemis!" Victoria called. Hermione stopped and turned again. "So are you going to go with Tom?"

"Why do you ask?" Hermione questioned suspiciously, eyeing her eager friends face.

"You seem to be afraid of him," Caity chimed in. Hermione turned to see her coming down the dormitory steps. For a fleeting and wonderful moment she thought that Caity might have regained her memory. …But no luck. Caity still had that dreamy look on her face. Her statement had just been one of observation. Hermione turned away in disappointment and pity.

"I don't blame her!" Elizabeth called out again.

Victoria rolled her eyes. Hermione raised her eyebrows at the girl standing in front of her.

"Victoria, would you like to go with Tom to the party?" she asked bluntly.

Victoria blushed again.

"Well—of course no—I mean—he's your—" she stuttered.

"He's not my anything. If you would like to go with him then ask him," Hermione said coolly. She ignored Victoria's surprised face and the stares she was getting from the rest of the common room and finally made her way back up to her dormitory. She still felt weak from Riddle attempting to rip a soul from her body.

"Tom, Tom, have you asked that pretty Artemis to my Christmas party yet?" Slughorn asked his favourite student. His office was filled with a half dozen boys, all gathered around their Potions teacher. Slughorn sat comfortably at his desk, gazing directly at Tom.

"No, sir," Tom said politely. A few of the boys around him grinned at each other.

Slughorn looked surprised. He leaned forward in his chair, causing it to groan under his weight.

"You can't expect her to just up and go with you, my boy! That is most ungentlemanly. You can't expect your charm and looks to get you everything, you know," and he leaned back in his chair once more.

"Well, I do also have my great brain power," he said charmingly, flashing a smile.

Slughorn and the boys grinned at this.

"True, true. You very well do. Ah, and so does she. It's been a while since I've let a girl into these social gatherings of ours but… I may need to reconsider that decision." Slughorn stroked his great mustache. "You know," he said to no one in particular. "I was considering inviting that Zupan girl into the group. The Head Girl. You know her, Tom," he said absentmindedly gesturing toward Riddle. "But she seems to have gone all loopy."

Riddle noticed Lestrange's eyes flicker in his direction momentarily before locking back on Slughorn.

"What a shame," the Potions Master continued. "That's the problem with today's ladies. They're so unpredictable. I'm not sure which of them to let in."

"I wouldn't mind you letting in that Victoria Zabini," Avery said grinning. Some of the boys snickered and laughed. Tom did not.

"Now, now," Slughorn said lazily. "If I only let in pretty faces we wouldn't have much brain power in our group would we?"

"That'd rule you out, Prewett," Avery snickered. All the boys laughed. Including Tom.

A shorter and heavier freckled boy scowled at them and sank back in his chair.

"All right, boys," Slughorn said, though it was obvious he found the joke amusing as well. "I think it's time for bed. Until tomorrow. And Tom," he said causing Riddle to cease his movement toward the door. "Do hurry up and ask Miss Morgen before someone else does."

Tom nodded at his professor and exited without another word.

Lestrange and Avery fell in step behind him as they made their way back to the Slytherin vicinity.

"My Lord," Avery began cautiously.

"Yes?" Voldemort replied without turning around or slowing his step.

"We were wondering, my Lord, about the girl—"

"What about the girl?" Voldemort said in a warning tone, still not slowing his pace.

Lestrange and Avery exchanged nervous glances behind their leaders back. Lestrange continued what Avery had begun.

"My Lord, we were wondering what her position—"

"Her position should not concern any of you," he said stopping abruptly and turning to face them. "It should not affect your loyalty or sway your opinion of my authority. Does it?" he asked dangerously.

The pair shook their heads fervently.

"She will be one of us soon. Do not let it concern you," he said finally, giving them the answer they wanted. And with that he turned and veered off down a separate hall toward the Head Boy's room, leaving his followers unsure whether they should feel relief or anxiety.

Dumbledore was back. It was the last week before the winter holidays and castle spirits were merrier than they had been. Whether it was because of the holidays, the impending party, or the return of Dumbledore after his longest absence yet (he had been gone for nearly three weeks) no one was in the mood to learn. Not even Hermione. She still had not let her guard down but she could not help feeling at home among the decorations and Christmas trees that Hagrid (a much younger Hagrid) had set up.

Hermione gave the younger half-giant a friendly wave as he passed by her table, hauling yet another tree. He grinned shyly and waved back before carrying the tree to the head table.

"Poor oaf will be lugging trees for the rest of his life," she heard a familiar voice say behind her.

She turned reluctantly to see Tom standing behind her, eyeing Hagrid with mild contempt. Hermione felt her temper rising.

"No thanks to you," she snapped, not bothering to keep her voice down.

Tom raised his eyebrows at her and frowned.

"So he does haul trees for the rest of his life," Tom said satisfactorily. "Tell me, Artemis, how long?"

"Long enough to prove to be a better man than you!"

"What are you talking about, Artemis?" a new voice chimed into their conversation. It was Victoria. "Tom did the school a great service getting Hagrid expelled. He killed a girl. Haven't you heard?"

Hermione composed herself in order to not give anything away. She still shot angry glances at Tom, however.

"I heard that it was an animal that killed the girl. Not a wizard," she replied coldly.

"Well, if you can consider him a wizard," Victoria giggled.

Hermione was seeing red. She felt it best to collect her bags and leave before she was forced to repeat what she had done to Draco Malfoy her third year to either Victoria or Riddle. And it wouldn't be a good idea to slap Riddle in front of the entire school anyway. She grabbed her bags and pile of books and pushed past the two, Victoria eyeing her in surprise and Riddle studying her. Just as she was pushing on the double doors she heard behind her,

"Oh, Tom, I had something to ask you about this Friday…"

And it was Friday. Due to the small number of students in the Slug club, the party was open to most students in their sixth and seventh year.

"It's not a party if you can see through the crowd to the other side of the room!" Slughorn called over the heads of his guests as a number of friends from the Ministry arrived.

"Shame the minister couldn't make it! I'm sure he would have loved to meet these ambitious youngsters. Longbottom! It's about time you showed up!"

Hermione noted that Slughorn had not changed as she made her way through the crowd. She had received a personal invite from Slughorn who insisted she attend even though she hadn't accepted any boy's invitation to escort her to the party. She had refused the number of boys that had asked her after Riddle had accepted Victoria's invitation. She knew that Slughorn had most likely asked her to come in order to put her in his precious Tom's way.

Hermione had to admit she was a bit shocked that Riddle had said yes to Victoria. She was curious of his motives. Had he known that Hermione would refuse him? Or was he trying to make her jealous. Maybe he just wanted to leave her alone for a while and try to get her to let her guard down.

Nice try.

And of course she wasn't jealous. She was not in love with the man.

As Hermione moved across the room she saw him and Victoria seemingly appear out of nowhere. Her stomach clenched. She cast her stomach a dirty look and tried to move to the opposite end of the room. An unwelcome hand flew out of nowhere and grabbed her.

"Miss Morgen! I'm so happy you decided to come. You practically crushed every boy's ego at Hogwarts. You're a tough bird though aren't you? No, no you didn't need to come with an escort."

...Slughorn. Hermione smiled politely though the smile was strained.

"And here's Tom and his lovely date. Well, Tom you certainly have the pick of a ladies," he gave a small bow to Victoria.

"Thank you, professor," Tom said quietly, though he was not looking at Slughorn. His eyes were locked on Hermione and Hermione's eyes were locked on anything other than the two people standing in front of her. She did not know why she felt so embarrassed. Maybe it was because she had been so flustered at her last Slug club dance. She noticed him eyeing her dress and blushed a little. He was bound to think she had worn green for him. Since she had come to this time period with no possessions of her own, Caity had lent her a spare dress robe. She was dressed in emerald green. She had decided to pass on straightening her hair since it was so short and had simply worn it up; allowing some curls to fall around her now flushed face.

Victoria was dressed in a bright pink. Tom was in elegant black robes. Victoria seemed to notice Tom staring at Hermione because she gave Hermione a fleeting smile and nodded to Slughorn before tugging on his arm. Tom nodded at his date.

"I think Victoria would like to dance," Slughorn chuckled.

Tom smiled and looked at Victoria expectantly, but Hermione could tell he would rather be anywhere else right now than here dancing with her. She felt a slight satisfaction at this. She cursed herself for it.

"I'll leave you two to your dance then," Hermione said with all the composure she could muster and left them to find better company. She could feel Tom's stare burning into her back.

"Artemis!" she heard a friendly voice call. Hermione spun to see Caity and her date walking toward her.

"Oh hello," she said in relief. "How are you two doing?" Caity had come with the Weasley. She began to wonder if Caity wasn't going to end up an ancestor of Ron as well.

"Oh, we're fine. We just arrived. It looks like a marvelous party so far," Caity said looking around the room happily. But when she looked back at Hermione her face was full of concern. "But how are you? I mean considering…" she cast a wary glance at Riddle and Victoria who were now dancing.

"Oh!" Hermione followed Caity's glance. "No, no don't worry. I'm fine. I even told her to ask him. You were there."

"Yes, but we didn't really take you seriously," Caity said eyeing Victoria with an annoyed air.

"Oh, don't. It's nonsense really. I don't want to start anything. Not over a boy anyway," Hermione insisted. "Look, why don't we sit down? I've been standing all day."

This was a lie. The truth was that Hermione had been having bouts of shakiness and weakness since Tom had experimented with that potion. She really needed to see a Healer about Riddle's potion. It had been too long for her to still be feeling the effects of it. But she did not want any questions asked. Perhaps now that Dumbledore was back she could see if he could do anything.

Caity placed her hand on Hermione's forehead.

"You don't feel warm, but you don't look very well either," Caity said, looking worried. She gave Hermione a quizzical look and followed her gaze across the room. "You really like him don't you?"

Hermione jumped and realized where she had been staring. She opened her mouth to deny Caity's claim but at that moment her vision began to cloud.

"I need to sit down," she said urgently.

Caity parted from her redheaded escort and grabbed Hermione's arm. She led her to the nearest chair before going off to get her something to drink. Hermione sipped on the sorbet lemon punch for a few moments before she began to see clearly again.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione looked up. It was one of Neville's old uncles. Well, not old in this period. What was it? Artie?

"I'm Algie," he said offering her a hand.

"Oh, nice to meet you," Hermione said shaking his hand. "I've seen you around the common room. I'm Artemis." She was still a little surprised by the sudden introduction.

"I know your name. You're brilliant enough to rival Riddle and pretty enough to date him." He shot Tom a slightly annoyed look. "But I see you're not with him tonight." He smiled.

Hermione noted that he was nothing like Neville. Or at least not the Neville she knew. She smiled.

"Well, we just needed some air," she said sipping the last of her sorbet.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked suddenly.

Hermione was taken aback by the abrupt question. So he did seem to be a bit like Neville. But it was nice to have something so familiar when she felt so far from home.

"Sure, I'll dance with you," she said standing up and setting down her glass. She turned to him smiling and he took her hand and led her out to the dance floor.

The music was certainly different. It was much softer and more upbeat than the music she was used to. Perhaps "corny" would be the best way to describe it. But it was fun to dance to. More fun, actually, than her own time's music. Hermione got the hang of the dance steps and swung along in time with Longbottom. She wished Neville's uncle had passed on some of his talent to his nephew for Ginny's sake their fourth year.

It wasn't until her third dance with Algie that she realized that the sorbet punch would not be enough to keep her going. She began to falter as the fast beat played. Her partner noticed her drop in energy.

"Would you like to sit?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Y-yes," Hermione breathed. "I would."

She began to make her way across the room with Algie's help. She only made it halfway, however, before sinking to the floor. The crowd around her murmured and parted.

"Is she alright?"

"What happened?"

"Should someone get the nurse?"

Hermione could only hear the voices for her eyes were clouding over once more.

"She needs to go to the hospital wing."

"I'll take her," she heard Algie's voice say.

"No. I'll take her, Longbottom."

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

Hermione felt a pair of arms encircle her waist and lift her to her feet.

"No," Hermione protested and tried to push the arms off of her.

"Don't be silly, Artemis. You need to see the school nurse." It was Caity's voice.

"N-no," Hermione continued. She feebly struggled against the chest that was helping her stand as her pulse began to race.

"You'll be fine, dear. Just go on with Tom. We'll save you some treacle tarts." That was Slughorn.

Hermione resigned weakly and allowed the familiar arms to lead her out the door and down the corridor. They walked on in silence for several minutes until Hermione was filled with dread.

"This isn't the way to the hospital wing," she said shivering.

"You don't need the hospital wing, Hermione," Riddle growled.

Hermione groaned. He was the reason she was feeling so sick in the first place and now who knows what he was planning. As he pulled her along another corridor she wondered if she could just black out and be spared.

They stopped and he pushed her gently against a wall to help keep her standing while he rummaged for something in his pocket. He pulled out a small vial filled with red liquid.

"Take this. It will help," he ordered and tried to place the bottle in her hands.

Hermione shook her head fervently. She had enough experience with his potion making in the past. The bottle slipped out of her hand. Tom growled and caught it before it smashed onto the floor.

"Hermione, you have to take this. You're sicker than you know."

He uncorked the vial and tried to bring the bottle up to her lips.

"No. I won't. Keep that… away…" she swatted at his hand and turned her head away from him.

Tom could not have her doing this. If she refused to take the potion he would be unable to do anything else for her and he would be forced to send her to St. Mungo's where unwanted questions would arise. And he could not let her die when she held something too important to him.

He stared at her in frustration and brought the vial up to his own lips, taking the potion and holding it in his mouth. He dropped the vial to the floor and used one arm to hold her up while the other hand forced her face toward him.

"What—"

He pressed his lips over hers and forced his tongue through her lips, parting them and allowing the liquid to flow from his mouth to hers. He gripped her tightly as she struggled against him, trying to refuse the potion. He held her lips with his until it had all passed to her mouth. He held her lips until she had swallowed. He held her lips until she had begun to respond to his kiss. They had not kissed for nearly over a month. Hermione lifted her arms and placed them on his shoulders, allowing the kiss to continue.

Tom took that as a sign her strength was returning. He removed his hands from her waist and when she stood by herself he took her hands and removed them from his shoulders, breaking the kiss. He took a step back, wiping whatever was left of the potion from his mouth with the back of his hand, while watching her movements.

Hermione's vision had cleared and she was no longer shaking. She saw Tom standing before her watching her curiously and mirrored his action, wiping the excess potion from her lips as well.

As she watched him, her breathing became uneven. She wasn't sure what to feel about him at the moment. She hated him but he had claimed her in more ways than one. She had never been more confused in her entire life.

He held out his hand to her.

"Come," was all he said.

She stared at his outstretched hand with anxiety and wonder. She looked up to his face and his black eyes. Unreadable as ever. She took his hand.