December 25, 1944
8:11 P.M.
Hermione laughed joyfully as Phyllis finished recounting yet another childhood story--this one about her sisters stealing her dad's money and buying boatloads of candy. As she slowly calmed down into a fit of giggles, she surreptitiously glanced at Tom. His mouth was quirked up in what could be called a miniature smile-smirk, and, although he appeared to not be paying attention, Hermione could tell from the way his head was tipped just barely in Phyllis' direction that he was.
Suddenly, the Heir of Slytherin's gray eyes slid to the left, toward her. Hermione didn't hide the fact that she had been looking at him, but, rather, steadily returned his gaze, tilting her head questioningly. Discreetly, he raised his eyebrows at her and nodded up at the gigantic grandfather clock on the far wall of the Great Hall.
8:15.
And, with a jolt, Hermione remembered the note. Remembered how she had completely forgotten about it and awkwardly asked him what it said a few hours prior.
"Tom, what did it say?"
...."It asked you to come to the Potions classroom at half-past eight tonight."
Well, here goes nothing.
Forcing a slightly nervous smile to her face, Hermione nodded, pushing back and standing up, acutely aware of Ginny, Harry, and Ron's eyes on her back as she did. Trying to look solely at the three people on her far side of the bench, she forced a smile to her face and said, "Well, I hope you all have a lovely end of Christmas."
"Yes, Happy Christmas, you two," Phyllis replied with a knowing little smile, Jacobson and she standing up as well. Luckily for both Hermione and Tom, many of the professors also chose that general time to vacate the Hall, causing the attention to be shifted to the opposite end of the table.
Dumbledore stood first, receiving a chorus of echoed "G'night, professor"s. The man caught Hermione's eye and smiled; she smiled back thankfully as he pressed the tips of his fingers together, a sure sign that he wasn't going to leave, but instead launch into some long-winded story about unrest in the world.
Tom glanced back at her and began to thread his way around the table and out of the hall. Hermione trailed him at first, her mind swirling, running through whatever possible scenarios involved meeting at the Potions room, and the thought occurred to her that she might die of curiosity.
Or maybe just die in general-
You're a sodding coward, Hermione. Just ask him, why don't you? She wasn't quite sure was she was so antsy about this, but... she was.
Hermione sighed and reluctantly quickened her pace, drawing up alongside the Slytherin. Keeping her voice low so a few students trailing a few feet back couldn't hear, she asked, "So, are we still going to the potions room even though we're together?"
"We don't have to." Tom shrugged indifferently, taking out his wand and absently twirling it around his fingers as they walked. "It'd probably be faster if we didn't. It just seemed like a fairly accessible meeting place at the time."
"Oh." All preconceived scenarios promptly flew into the mental rubbish bin, and Hermione bit her lower lip pensively. They were a good half out of the Great Hall by now, and, before she lost her nerve, she hastily started to inquire, "Where are we g—"
"Hey Nef, wait up!"
She immediately tensed as Draco's familiar drawl unexpectedly cut through the air behind her and thought she saw Tom do the same.
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Misunderstood Maledictions | Tomione
Romansa"Have you ever really been hated, Nefertari? Have you ever been disowned by your own bloody father before he even met you? Have you ever been cursed by the woman who called herself your mother before you could even crawl? Have you ever... asked a qu...
