It might be a little while, but maybe we'll realign soon.
Made to reassign, but find me a little time, too.
Terraform - Novo Amor
•
They appeared outside, in the shadows of a large circular building. Luna shivered in the cold November air and went to pull her hand from Tom's elbow. Tom placed a hand over hers to keep it in place. "You have to allow me to escort you on my arm. It's proper."
"Fine, then," she responded, her eyes fluttering down to focus on his hand over hers.
"This way," he said, sweeping forward. He lead her to the front entrance, over which were the words Royal Albert Hall in white letters. A crowd of Muggles in extravagant clothes was still filtering in through the doors, and Tom and Luna joined them.
"What are we here for?" Luna asked with curiosity, watching the people around her in all their finery and airs.
"A performance by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. A gala event, featuring one of the most renowned international violinists, Maximiliano Mendes." He did not expound further on their true purpose in attending, and Luna seemed too dazzled by her surroundings to be too concerned with it anyway.
"Ooh, how exciting, I've never been to an orchestra performance before!" she said. "Goodness, look at that Muggle woman's hair, how clever!" she added, pointing at the woman in question, whose hair was in an elaborate braid and amassed into an enormous mound atop her head.
Tom reached out and forced Luna's hand back down with his own. "Don't point at them."
Upon entering the building, Tom strode across the foyer towards one of the entrances into the hall. Luna was staring around them, her eyes even wider than normal. "What a magnificent place," she murmured. She looked up at the sparkling chandeliers lighting the building with great interest. "They're run by electricity, aren't they? Brilliant."
Tom scowled at her praise of the Muggle technology. "A poor substitution for magic," he muttered back.
"You don't think it's extraordinary?" she asked. "Light like that, without any magic at all!"
"I forgot how easily amused you are with inane things," he said. "And keep your voice down. They're Muggles, not deaf."
Tom noted that has the pair of them walked, the heads of numerous Muggles, men and women alike, were turning in their direction to follow their progress. This persisted as they entered the performance hall, handed their paper tickets to an usher waiting there, and began descending the steps towards their seats in the usher's wake.
Luna's hand on his arm gently squeezed him as they started down the stairs. "I feel as though everyone is staring at us," she whispered. "Have I made some grievous Muggle fashion faux pas? Perhaps I was supposed to wear this gown the other way around? Or perhaps the gloves were intended -"
"That's not why they're staring at you," Tom hissed.
"Oh? Well, that's reassuring to hear, as I put a tremendous amount of effort into the ten minutes you allotted me to get ready, but you do agree they're all staring?"
"Of course they are. These are the wealthiest, most important Muggles in London, and they've no idea who we are."
"Why does it matter who we are? I don't know anyone here, either."
"Because they all know each other. This gala is only for the most exclusive group of rich Muggles. And they don't know know us. They don't know who the handsome young man and beautiful young lady at the gala are. We're gossip material."
Luna shot a sideways glance at him. "Do you think I'm beautiful?" Her tone was one of genuine curiosity rather than flirtatiousness, and as usual, her lack of ulterior motives in general annoyed him.
He rolled his eyes and did not look at her. "That's not of consequence at the moment. I was merely explaining why they were staring at us."
The usher indicated their seats to them and passed them a program for the evening's performance. Luna and Tom settled into their seats, and Luna peered around the hall, awestruck. Most of the audience was already seated, and the orchestra was already on stage warming up.
"These are quite good seats. How did you get these tickets?" Luna asked.
"I may have persuaded a Muggle couple to part with them," he replied with a smirk.
"Persuaded?" She settled that damn probing look on him, the same one that had caused him numerous problems as a school boy.
Tom leaned close to her to whisper in her ear, in part to not be overheard and in part to avoid her stare. "Don't worry, Lovegood, I didn't harm the filth. A simple Confundus Charm was sufficient to make them think they had alternative plans this evening which they simply couldn't miss. They were all too eager to pass on tonight's tickets to the charming young man they were chatting with in the café."
"Do you think you're charming?" she asked in the same tone she had asked if he thought she was beautiful, like a researcher from another planet.
"When I want to be," he replied.
"I see," she said with a thoughtful nod.
The lights in the hall fell as the lights on the stage brightened. A hush fell over the audience, and a moment later the conductor strode out onto the stage, followed by a middle-aged man holding a violin. All of the Muggles began applauding them, which Luna politely copied.
The conductor situated himself in front of his orchestra, and the violinist stood a few feet to the left of the conductor. With the rise and fall of the conductor's baton, the orchestra began to play, at first a dark sound dominated by the brass instruments. This subsided into tremulous woodwinds.
Luna scooted herself forward to the edge of her seat, her eyes wide and lips apart, enraptured. When the solo violinist began to play, the sound echoing through the hall in a chilling melody, Luna's eyes, to Tom's amazement, filled with tears, which she allowed to spill over her cheeks unimpeded. Tom found he was not watching the orchestra at all; instead, he could not stop himself from watching her reactions to the music.
He was startled when, following a few measures by the solo violinist which were then echoed by the rest of the orchestra, her small hand reached out to him, grasping his own where it rested on his knee. She was still staring with glistening eyes at the orchestra before them, even as she intertwined her fingers between his, her chest seeming to rise and fall with the swells of the music.
Tom waited, expecting irritation to rise in him at the familiarity she showed in touching him this way, but it did not come. She did not seem quite aware that she had taken his hand at all. And rather than anger, some other shameful, unnameable emotion twisted inside him. Glancing down at her hand lying over top of his, their fingers entwined, Tom did not pull away. Burying the memory of what her skin felt like against his, refusing to think of it for years except for in awful, aching, lonely moments at night when sleep eluded him...that was not true forgetting, whether he acknowledged it or not. He returned to watching her face out of the corner of his eye as she watched the orchestra.
After a few minutes, the music took a more ominous turn, and Luna's free hand touched her parted lips with her fingertips. Tom's heart rate quickened at this, though he was quite sure this was a trick of the music.
At long last, the end of the concert came, and Luna leapt to her feet to applaud the orchestra while standing, releasing Tom's hand in doing so. "Oh, Tom, that was magnificent! I've never witnessed something so beautiful before!" she said, beaming down at him. "I wish Violetta could have been here!"
Tom unfolded himself out of his chair to stand and slowly clap beside her, ignoring the pang in his abdomen at the mention of her daughter. "You enjoyed your first orchestra concert, then?"
"Yes, very much! The violinist was simply enchanting!"
A smirk played at the corners of Tom's mouth. "That's certainly one way to describe it."
Luna did not appear to have noticed his amusement. She remained standing and clapping with vigor as the rest of the audience's applause died out, until she was the last person clapping and people nearby were turning to look at her. For the second time that evening, Tom reached out and lowered her hands, forcing her to stop. When she looked at him with a questioning face, he raised an eyebrow at her.
"You don't follow social conventions well," he commented.
"I follow my own conventions."
"I'm well aware."
"What's next?" she asked, looking around them as the audience began exiting the performance hall.
"Next, those of us who have tickets to dinner go upstairs and drink for a bit while they get ready to serve us food," he replied, then started down the row of chairs toward the aisle.
"Brilliant, I'm quite hungry," Luna replied, only half paying attention to the conversation as her eyes resumed their earlier curious inspection of each of the Muggles around them.
Once they were on the aisle, he again offered his arm to her, and they proceeded with the rest of the crowd back out of the hall. Upon entering the dining room for their dinner, Luna was once again overcome with loud proclamations of Muggle cleverness regarding the decor. Tom frowned, but did not respond.
The moment they had been ushered to their seats at a circular, white-clothed table, which was already occupied by several Muggles, a waiter approached them to ask for their drink order.
"I'll have a gillywater please, with extra olives," Luna rattled off with a dreamy expression on her face as she did so. "And if you've got one of those wee spears for the olives, that would be most excellent."
"She means gin with tonic," Tom interjected, when the waiter opened his mouth to question just what a gillywater might be. "And the same for me."
The waiter gave a polished nod and bustled off to get their drinks, and Luna gave Tom an appraising look. "I meant gillywater, though." Her voice was loud enough for their tablemates to hear her.
"They haven't got gillywater, Lovegood, this is not The Three Broomsticks," Tom muttered to her under his breath, shooting a glance at the older couple sitting on Luna's other's side, who were listening to their conversation without pretense.
"Muggles haven't got gillywater?" she asked. Luna leaned closer to him as she spoke, catching on that he was trying to be discreet, though he now had a new problem in that she was so close he could smell her hair, and he was most displeased to find that this still induced the same acute slowing in his processing of thoughts as it did when they were at Hogwarts.
The memory that his Amortentia potion smelled distinctly similar to this floated unbidden into his mind as he dared an inhale, and he scowled. This was followed by the memory that he had told her this, and on the exhale, his scowl deepened further.
Luna, for her part, still was gazing in his direction with her protuberant grey eyes, without blinking, though they appeared to have gone out of focus in the few moments' pause since her question.
Tom's irritation ratcheted higher, both with her and himself. "Of course they don't, it's made with gillyweed, isn't it? That's a magical herb, isn't it?" he hissed to her, as he tried to take shallow breaths to avoid smelling her anymore.
She blinked and her eyes regained focus. "Ah. I see. I was just thinking...it's rather disappointing enough that they don't have gillywater, but I do hope they still have the wee spears for the drink garnish. Do you think they will? What a dismal party, if they haven't got the wee spears...."
"I'm sure they have the bloody spears," he said under his breath, then leaned away from her, unable to bear the close proximity any further and growing aware that the Muggle couple beside them was still attempting to listen.
"Good evening," said the woman of the couple, noticing that Tom and Luna were no longer whispering to each other. The woman offered a lipsticked smile to them, and Tom noted the numerous jewels on the woman's hands, ears, and neck.
"Good evening," her husband repeated, also smiling. He stuck a hand out toward Tom. "Edgar Green, pleased to meet you. This is my wife, Dorothy."
Tom shook the man's hand and fought the desire of his lip to curl as he did so. There was nothing he loathed more than a wealthy Muggle. "Tom Riddle," he responded, withdrawing his hand the moment it would not be perceived as rude to do so.
Before Tom could introduce her as Edgar had done Dorothy, Luna grabbed Edgar's retreating hand and gave it a hearty shake. "Luna Lovegood, simply spiffing to meet you." She dropped Edgar's hand, who held it midair for a moment as though stunned. Luna then seized Dorothy's hand where it lay on the table top glittering with rings in order to shake hers as well. Luna then sat back in her chair with a smile.
"Er - yes, agreed, spiffing to meet you too, dear," Edgar stammered, realizing his hand was still hovering in the air and hastening to lower it.
Dorothy appeared to recover faster than her husband. "Are you two married?" she asked, glancing between Tom and Luna. "What a lovely young couple," she continued, before receiving an answer. She sighed and beamed at them. "Young love."
"Oh, we're not married," Luna answered. "I'm actually rather surprised Tom invited me tonight, as I'm fairly certain he harbors a great deal of resentment toward me at a minimum, and may even despise me completely."
Tom's palm plastered itself to his face before he could stop it, which at least saved him from having to stare back at the abashed faces of Edgar and Dorothy. To his utter horror, Luna continued to speak.
"You see, it's difficult to assess exactly how Tom feels about me, as he's notoriously reticent with his true emotions. Additionally, I'm afraid he has good reason to resent me, as I've not been, historically speaking, entirely reliable or honest when it comes to our relationship."
"I see," Dorothy managed to say.
Just when Tom thought it could not get worse and peeled his hand away from his eyes to face the scene, Luna said, "You're much older than myself, Dorothy, perhaps you have some advice regarding how to approach such a situation?"
Luna stared at Dorothy with a vague smile, as though she had asked for appropriate small talk advice of someone she had met just moments before. Dorothy's face seemed to melt rapidly from aghast to offended. Edgar, for his part, seemed at a total loss for how to manage what was unfolding.
The waiter returned with a tray of the table's drinks in a blessed moment of good timing, and Tom felt he had never been so relieved by the appearance of a Muggle before in his life. The interruption allowed the four of them to discontinue further conversation without having to address what had happened. After taking their beverages, Dorothy rotated her entire body in her seat to angle herself away from Luna, speaking in a low voice to her husband.
Tom took a large gulp of his drink, then placed a hand on Luna's far knee under the table to force her to turn towards him in her seat, as she had just made to engage the Greens in conversation again. "Don't," Tom muttered.
"Beg pardon?" Luna asked, raising her eyebrows and staring down at her lap where he had reached out to touch her leg.
"For Merlin's sake, Luna, you've gone and offended her," he whispered, her first name slipping out of his mouth, indicating a degree of familiarity he had not intended to bestow upon her. He pulled his hand away from her knee as though burned.
Luna fixed her large eyes on him. "Have I? How so?"
"Well, you practically called her old, didn't you?" He took another heavy sip of his gin.
"Old? Well, she is old, that's not an insult. If anything, it's a compliment. Witches become more powerful and accomplished with age, don't they? I simply can't wait to be old, imagine all the things I shall know."
"She's not a witch," he hissed. "Muggle women don't like it when you point out their age, it's considered quite rude. Don't draw anymore attention to yourself than need be."
"Well, that's just silly, but I feel awful about offending her, I'll just apologize -"
"No!" he said, his voice rising to a near normal volume in doing so, and he laid a hand on her knee once more to keep her from turning to Dorothy. "Just leave it!"
Luna's gaze dropped to his hand on her knee once more before bouncing back up to his face. "If you say so."
They continued to talk together as dinner was served and throughout the courses of the meal. Although there was some invisible line that they both seemed to have agreed in silence not to cross regarding the topics of conversation they would engage in with one another, performing a delicate dance around any mention of their pasts, Tom was still struck by how they seemed to have fallen into their old pattern of banter without any great difficulty. As though no time had passed at all, as though nothing had happened, as though she had never left.
This feeling was, overall, exacerbated by the gin the waiter was replenishing for them both with such promptness that Tom was impressed in spite of himself.
It was only when the solo violinist was introduced after dessert had been served to the privileged dinner guests that Tom forced himself to remember he was here for business, and Luna herself was a merely part of that.
His body warm from the gin, Tom found himself sitting sideways in his chair to face Luna, with her doing the same toward him so that their knees were touching as they engaged in pointless talk back and forth that had nonetheless made him forget, if only for a short time, that he could not exist in this limbo moment with her forever.
"Maximiliano Mendes!" announced a man, and the violinist came out of a side door, carrying his violin, to the applause of the dinner guests.
Tom shifted to face forward in his seat to watch the violinist, his demeanor polishing, his heart hardening, and his edges sharpening again as he turned away from Luna. He gave a slight shake of his head, both to clear his mind of the fog that had crept in with the gin, and to get her loose from whatever hold she still had on him. He reminded himself that she had betrayed him, and he felt, quite immediately, colder and more himself than the moment before.
Maximiliano Mendes lifted his violin and began to play for the dining room, a shimmering, sad solo that seemed to hypnotize those listening, Luna most of all.
•
Luna was at a pleasant state of fuddled that, if possible, made her even more enraptured than ever at the violinist's playing. Once Maximiliano completed his solo, she once again stood from her seat in order to applaud him, unable to stop herself from doing so. She could not remember the last time she felt so content, without condition or complication. The music, the gin, and Tom falling into familiar patterns with her was inducing such a deep-seated warmth inside her that she could barely contain it.
The violinist lowered his violin during the applause and bowed in all directions. At one point, his dark eyes fell on Luna where she clapped. He seemed to hesitate on her for a moment, before moving on so smoothly that she wondered if she had imagined it.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all so much for attending tonight's event...," the man who had introduced Maximiliano was saying, and the dinner guests began preparing to leave, the event coming to a close. Luna watched the violinist give one final wave to the crowd before starting back towards the door he had come through.
Tom stood up beside her, tossing his white cloth napkin down on the table. He gave a disdainful glance towards Dorothy and Edgar, then grabbed Luna's elbow and began steering her away from the table.
"Come," he commanded, escorting her toward the door through which Maximiliano Mendes had disappeared just moments before, against the crowd that was heading up towards the exits.
"Where are we going?" she asked, struggling to keep up with him in her gown as he weaved amongst the people leaving.
Tom was exchanging dirty looks with the the Muggles that they passed, who were staring at him, affronted at his apparent rudeness as he pushed his way through them. Luna was tempted to warn the Muggles that it wasn't worth getting into a dirty look contest with Tom Riddle.
"You didn't think I just brought you for an evening out, did you?" he said over his shoulder, bitterness rising in his tone again.
Luna's heart rate increased. She felt him slipping away. While they sat and ate together, he had seemed like he would let himself be her Tom again, that he would let her be his Luna again, but now he was withdrawing from her again, growing distant, going cold. "Well, I try to not make too many assumptions as a general practice, and particularly when it comes to your behavior, as -"
"Hurry up," he interrupted in irritation. "I have work to do, and he's known to slip away the moment he senses danger."
"Who?" she asked from behind him, still being towed along by Tom's grip on her arm.
Tom did not answer her and instead lead her to the side door, approaching it without hesitation. A waiter stepped forward with a finger raised, as though to stop them from going through, but Tom muttered something under his breath and the man's eyes glazed over. The waiter stood by slack-jawed as Tom opened the door and pulled Luna through.
Luna saw, at the end of the corridor they had entered, Maximiliano Mendes entering a room. The violinist glanced down the corridor toward them when they appeared, then slipped inside the room and shut the door behind him.
Continuing his quick pace, Tom pulled Luna down the corridor toward the room, muttering to Luna as they went, "Listen to me. I am here for a business assignment. Do not interfere." Before she could respond, they had reached the room Maximiliano had entered. Tom pulled out his wand, pointed it toward the doorknob, and said, "Alohomora."
The door sprang open. Maximiliano Mendes spun around inside at their entrance, and to Luna's surprise, he was pointing a wand directly at Tom. The violinist was panting, his hair beginning to fall out of the careful coif into which it had been combed for his performance. There was an open suitcase behind him. They had entered his dressing room, and he had been starting to pack in an apparent rush. His violin lay in its case, also open, just next to the suitcase.
Maximiliano's eyes darted from Tom to Luna and back. "I knew it!" he said in a thick Spanish accent, raising his free hand to point at Luna. "I knew she was a witch when I saw her at the dinner! Something funny about her!"
Luna, feeling quite confused and not assisted in the least by the gin she had been drinking at dinner, offered Maximiliano a small wave from behind Tom. "Hello there," she said. "Your performance was really quite amazing, I was absolutely astonished."
Maximiliano dared to take his eyes off Tom for another moment to give Luna a startled look. Tom took advantage of this lapse in judgement, saying, "Expelliarmus!" Maximiliano's wand flew through the air, and Luna, without thinking, reached out and caught it. She stared down at the wand in her hand, bemused, then glanced back up at Tom, whose wand was still pointing at Maximiliano. Tom took a step toward the violinist, who seemed to wilt before their very eyes.
"I suppose you want my violin," the middle-aged wizard said, his shoulders slumping forward, looking hopeless.
"Of course I do, Mendes," Tom said, advancing on the wizard further, a sadistic smile curling at his mouth. "You know, you really should have kept it quiet that you had it, instead of flaunting it all around the world like a fool. I suppose you quite liked the fame, however, even if it was from Muggle filth." Tom stopped just in front of Maximiliano, so that the tip of his wand was mere inches from the man's face. "Pathetic," Tom spat.
"Tom, why do you want his violin?" Luna interrupted. "Do you play?" She hovered by the door holding Maximiliano's wand, feeling quite out of place and quite unsettled by watching Tom threaten the cowering man with his wand.
The two men turned to look at her with varying shades of disbelief on their faces.
"Of course not, Lovegood," Tom snapped.
"Do you not know what this is, girl?" Maximiliano said, gesturing towards his gleaming violin and seeming to forget for a moment that his life was being threatened.
"A violin?" Luna tried.
Maximiliano let out a scoff. "'A violin'! This is no mere violin! This is Stradivari's greatest creation, the most valuable of his violins!"
"Who?" Luna asked.
The violinist seemed pained at her question. He looked to Tom. "She asks who is Stradivari. Who is Stradivari! And you bring her here to take my violin from me? I know you must, but someone who does not even know Stradivari?"
Tom prodded the man in the chest with his wand to get him to be quiet, then glanced at Luna. "Antonio Stradivari was a wizard in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries who became renowned for making the best violins in the world. His violins are still extremely valuable today, although Muggles do not know he was a wizard, or that he used his magic to make his instruments. And this," he said, pointing to Maximiliano's violin, "is his most valuable ever, the only one that has never fallen into Muggle hands. Although," he added, sneering at Maximiliano, "I suppose you have still managed to taint it by using it to perform for them for your own petty benefit."
Maximiliano heaved a dramatic sigh. "What do you want from me, eh? There are much bigger Muggle audiences available out there, you know? And you mock me for it, but how you think I kept my violin for so long, eh? Muggles can't take it from me. And witches and wizards would not suspect to find it being played for Muggles. I have had it for eleven years now, the longest anyone has ever been bonded to it. I am, of course, quite curious how you yourself knew where to find it?"
"I believe you are acquainted with my employer, Mr. Caractacus Burke," Tom answered.
A flush of rage bloomed on Maximiliano's cheeks. "Burke!" he spat. "I should have known! Your employer is a rat, a weasel, a vermin, a -"
"Agreed," Tom interrupted in impatience.
"This is not the first time he has attempted to take my violin from me! He is the only wizard who knows that I have it!"
"Not anymore," Tom said with a sneer. "And you may come to find that I am far more clever than Burke. I have come more prepared." At this, Tom gave a small tilt of his head in Luna's direction, causing Maximiliano's eyes to dart towards her.
Luna rocked her weight up onto the balls of her feet, then backwards onto her heels. She had no idea what her part in all of this was, or what Tom meant by coming prepared. "Beg pardon?" she said.
"I could sabotage you," Maximiliano threatened Tom, his eyes narrowing. "I could tell her."
"Tell me what?" Luna asked, now taking a few steps forward.
Tom ignored her. "You will not, however, because if you do, I will simply use the Cruciatus Curse on you until you're begging for the release of death."
Tom's face and voice had not changed, and he made this threat with such a casual air that it took Luna a moment to realize what he had said. "Oh, Tom, no!" she said, and the next moment she found herself standing between the end of Tom's wand and Maximiliano. She had not made the conscious decision to do it, but now that she was here, she squared her jaw and stared with defiance at Tom.
Tom's brows drew together, forming a line of irritation between them, but he did not drop his wand. "Lovegood, get out of the way. I told you not to interfere."
"You can't do this just for a violin!" Luna cried. "You don't even play!"
"I don't want it so that I can play it," Tom bit out, rolling his eyes.
"Ah, I suspect not," Maximiliano said from behind Luna.
"Silence!" Tom said to Maximiliano, temper flaring, before returning his gaze to Luna. In a voice that was only moderately more controlled, Tom said, "I have already explained to you that this is a business assignment, and I am not leaving without the violin."
Luna considered for a moment. Adrenaline seemed to mingle with the gin in her brain in a funny way. She spun to face Maximiliano. "Mr. Mendes - I'm so terribly sorry, I know what it must mean to you, but I do think it would be better if you just gave us the violin! Perhaps I could convince him to give it back to you at some point, or perhaps - perhaps I can buy it back for you! But for now, I think it would be best!"
A silence rang in the dressing room after her words. Maximiliano stared at her with a look midway between being moved and being afraid. After several beats, he said, "Ah. I suppose you are right." He turned around and picked up his violin from its open case, then held it before himself with tears in his eyes. "It is inevitable that this would happen." Maximiliano glanced up at Tom, his face hardening. "I will only give it to her if you swear not to let her play it. She is far too sweet for it. And for you."
"That was always the intention, Mendes," Tom said.
Maximiliano gave Tom a curt nod, then ran a hand along the curve of the violin. He then held it out towards Luna, who lifted her hands to take it. Maximiliano took a deep breath, paused, then passed the violin on to Luna. He exhaled upon seeing the violin in Luna's hands. "All right," he said, "it is yours now."
"Brilliant," Tom said in a businesslike tone. "Lovegood, put it in its case and let's get going."
Luna did as she was told, placing the shining violin in its velvet-lined black case, and snapping the lid shut. She carried the case over to Tom, who still had his wand pointed at Maximiliano.
"You can give him his wand back now," Tom instructed.
She held the wand out to Maximiliano, who took it back, staring at the floor and looking defeated. Luna's heart ached for him, but she remained by Tom's side.
Tom held his arm out for her to take yet again. "Good night, Mr. Mendes," he said. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." Then he Disapparated himself and Luna out of the dressing room.
They appeared on one end of the Serpentine Bridge, on the border of Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. The cold November air bit at Luna's exposed shoulders, and she shivered. The moment they Apparated onto the bridge, Tom began striding across it away from her.
Luna followed half a step behind him like a lighter shadow, carrying the violin case in one hand, the other arm wrapped around her torso against the chill. A mess of emotions was whirling inside her. The adrenaline she had experienced when jumping in between Tom and Maximilano was wearing off with each beat of her heart, and she was left with fogginess from the gin, frustration and disappointment from Tom, and sadness from Maximiliano.
Tom stopped halfway across the Serpentine Bridge and planted both of his hands on the railing, facing east towards the Serpentine itself. Luna drifted over, set the violin case down, and leaned far over the railing a few feet away from him, her abdomen hanging over it so that she was looking down into the water, her hair dangling around her face. She tried to pick out the difference between the stars and any Giant Peruvian Fireflies in the sky based on their reflections in the water.
"You were excellent," Tom said, his sudden voice startling the silence of the night.
Luna stood up straight to face him. He was staring at her with an odd look on his face, one that was difficult for her to read. She suspected he was not sure what he felt, quite like herself. "What do you mean?"
"With Mendes. Getting the violin."
"You were being awful," she replied bluntly.
"I wasn't going to use the Cruciatus Curse on him," he replied.
She inspected his face. "So you were just being a bully, then," she said in admonishment. She was almost positive he was lying to her. He would have done it, to achieve his aims, if he had needed to...wouldn't he? Would he have even paused? But...the way he was looking at her, his dark hair shining in the starlight, she could believe he was telling her the truth. If she let herself. Couldn't she? She found that she wanted to.
"What did you think I did for work?" he asked her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Do you enjoy it, bullying other people for their things? Being mean for money?"
"I don't do it for the money."
"Even worse, then," she said, though she felt as if her words held no conviction to them. He was still watching her with the same funny expression on his handsome face, and she found that she could not muster the energy within herself to be angry with him. She had spent so long grieving him, longing for him, and now here he was, right in front of her, looking at her like that.
"Did you enjoy your evening?" he asked her.
"What a curious question. I enjoyed bits of it. I enjoyed the concert, of course, and I was rather enjoying you, until you started threatening people."
"You were enjoying me?" he repeated, raising one eyebrow at her.
Luna sighed. "Yes. It was almost like...like it used to be. Like we could just be together again. I told you already that I've missed you. I'm afraid that's a bit of an understatement. It's more as if I've been missing a part of myself, like a lung or something, and tonight there was a brief period of time where I felt I almost had it back. Like I'd been walking around short of breath for years, and then...I could suddenly breathe again." She sighed and shook her head, unabashed by her own honesty.
Tom took a few slow, dangerous steps forward, until he was standing very close to her, towering over her. She could smell his familiar scent, like Amortentia. Her eyes were level with his chest. Luna's breath caught in her throat as he reached a hand up and wrapped long, cool fingers around her jaw and neck, tilting her chin upwards to make her look at him. The pulse in her neck thudded against his skin, and he let out a soft sound, somewhere between a growl and a sigh.
"I find myself...craving you," he said in a low voice. He met her eyes with a frown of disconcertion that did not drown out the predatory hunger in his gaze.
"Do you?" Luna whispered back.
His fingers tightened on her jawline enough to tug her even closer. She took a step into him that was not in the least unwilling. The memories of the nights she had spent with him flooded into her consciousness without warning, mingled with confusing thoughts of cobras that hypnotized their prey prior to devouring them.
Tom's eyes flickered down to her lips, then her throat. He bent, his face lowering to her neck, where he audibly breathed in the scent of her. Skin to skin, he breathed up her neck, as though trying to smell her very blood. His lips paused just next to her ear, and Luna realized she had long since shut her eyes. Everything had been spinning anyway, and the feeling of his hot, gin-tinged breath on her skin was too intoxicating to leave her with the faculties for processing anything else.
A breathy sigh escaped from Luna's parted lips without her express permission. In response to this, a deep and quiet chuckle boiled over out of Tom and into Luna's ear, making goosebumps erupt all over her skin that had very little to do with the cold night.
"I think you crave me too," he whispered to her, and she could hear the gloating smile in his voice. The pad of his thumb brushed across her lower lip.
Her stomach roiled like it was full of snakes. "Yes," she whispered back. It was all she could manage to say, but it seemed to be good enough.
Tom made another sound, and this time it was an unmistakable growl. The next moment his mouth was on hers, kissing her with such an exquisite, demanding neediness that she thought she might give up her very soul if only to satisfy him.