#180 in Fanfiction || #1 in Hermione ||
In the language of literature, there exists a seemingly-concrete, antonymous relationship between good and evil, light and dark, hero and monster. And yet, we often disregard the transition from one to anothe...
The redhead pushes the notion away without any whim to bring it back, leading the other three upwards on the stairs and intentionally to their rooms. But, Mrs Weasley cannot be contained in her speech, shouting "The same for you Harry!"
"Mum!" Ron cries in horror at her perpetual mentioning of these things, Tom chuckling loudly at the woman's almost teasing ways. Harry meanwhile just blushes under the attention, almost matching Hermione in color as she huffs at the expectations Molly has of her.
Almost purposefully, although it is due to the lack of space, the boys are again split from the girls, separated by two floors and the master bedroom itself. Tom grins as he notices this, breaking off from the other two boys to place Hermione's stuff in her room, all crammed into her small beaded bag. Ginny is strangely missing from the chambers, but Tom is deeply grateful that he can be alone with Hermione.
"I still don't see why you felt the need to carry it," Hermione remarks as Tom places the beaded bag on her bed, previously having been shrunken and placed in his pocket in fear of carrying a purse. Who knew the previous Dark Lord feared femininity?
But he'll not mention that aspect, instead going with the more likely excuse, "I'm supposed to be a gentleman, and a gentleman carries a woman's baggage."
"'Supposed to be?' Are you saying you're not naturally a gentleman?" Hermione notices, her arms crossed over her chest with an eyebrow raised in what he assumes to be her interrogation stance. He smirks.
"I suppose so," he shrugs simply, but takes a step closer to her with a mischievous grin on his face. "I've been known to break the rules...very un-gentlemanly of me."
At first, Hermione just thinks Tom is relating back to his days in the 1940s where he broke the most important rules of the Wizarding World and Hogwarts--multiple times over. But that smirk has her thinking in a different direction, some seconds passing before she blanches in realization, taking a step back.
"Not that rule!" she exclaims through a blush that only makes him grin wider, his eyes so intent on hers that she has to drop her head. Embarrassed by the implications, Hermione dawdles with the bracelet now mended and attached to her wrist, warm in its material but more heartfelt than anything else she wears. Tom notices.
"Where'd you get that?" Tom asks, again serious, as he recognizes the bracelet to be a shrunken Slytherin scarf from back in the 1940s. "I'm pretty sure I had mine tucked away."
"It's not yours. It's Abraxas's. He gave it to me when I was cold, but told me to keep it when I tried to give it back," she is quick to rebuke his ownership of the clothing, as if not wanting to taint the gift given to her so long ago, time-wise. And though she is not looking at him, Hermione can tell Tom is unsure about her wearing a token of another man's affection, another man's scarf. And it's this notion that has her worried and entirely courageous, raising her head to add, "I will never take it off. It's all I have left of him...other than his grandson, but a bracelet's much kinder than Draco."
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