Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

The Vow

The evening was fading, and Tom was seated in his armchair, the first edition of the Chronomancer spread out across his lap, which featured him on the front page. He looked up as he heard Hermione apparate into the sitting room.

Hermione's heels clicked on the wood floors of Tom's flat.

"I'm ready."

Tom tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "For what?"

"To tell you. Everything."

He blinked a few times, then promptly closed his book as he took in her appearance. "When? Now?"

Hermione crossed her arms over the trendy cropped jacket of her skirt suit. The collar of her blouse rose up to her neck and tied in a bow, and she wore a fashionable little hat over her smoothed-out curls. "No. I... I have some things I want first."

He cocked his head, then stood and walked to his kitchen. A moment later, he returned with a glass of dark wine. "Do you mean that you have demands?"

"Yes."

He sauntered toward her slowly. "Are we negotiating, then?"

"We are."

He laughed under his breath. "You are a smart witch."

She lifted a dubious eyebrow. "Are you just now noticing?"

He stood before her and lifted his hand to her face, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip. "Are you familiar with the story of Esther, little witch?"

She shook her head. "Only vaguely. My parents weren't very religious."

He nodded to acknowledge her answer as he handed her the glass of wine. "It is a tale from the book of Jews and Christians. A young woman named Esther wanted to protect her people from persecution, so she gave up her maidenhood to spend a night with a Persian King in hopes that she might be chosen as queen. He became enamored of her and made her his queen. When his grand vizier proposed a law to eradicate her people from Persia, Esther approached the king's throne unbidden, which was an act punishable by death. But he allowed it, and to everyone's shock, he said to her, "What do you ask of me? I will give you whatever you ask, even up to half of my kingdom."

Tom circled around her, until he stood at her back, his chest pressed against her shoulders.

He slipped an arm around her waist, his hand stroking her stomach. "Are you Esther, my dear? Are you here to spread your legs for the good of your people?"

Hermione smiled, refusing to take his bait. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip, and the dark, bitter liquid stained her mouth, the maroon tannins of the wine sinking into the texture of her lips.

She licked it off slowly, and his eyes followed the gesture as he leaned over her, pressing his lips to her temple.

"I am no Esther, Tom. Perhaps I'm more foolish, even, because I fell in love with you." She took a deep breath, then tore away from him and set the glass aside on the table. "If I hadn't, I surely would've driven a knife into your heart before we ever fucked. That definitely would have made my life easier, but that's neither here nor there." His eyes watched her like she was a film star, ravenous, snatching up every detail of her appearance, her demeanor, as if he were cataloging her in case she were to flee again.