Braving the Past

Chapter 22: Gryffindors Always Get in the Way

Tom awoke to a chill in his hand. It was empty.

He looked around to find that Hermione had moved to the very edge of the bed. She was curled in a ball, her knees sticking out over the edge. Her eyes were closed, but Tom wondered if she was truly asleep.

But if she was asleep...

Tom peeked over Hermione's form. Glittering around her neck, just like always, was the golden chain that held her hidden time-turner. If Tom couldn't convince her to stay in his time, he would just have to leave her with no other choice.

The only problem was that Hermione would undoubtedly suspect him. He couldn't trust any of his knights to take it and not know what it was. But who else could he possibly persuade?

As Tom looked at Hermione, he thought of those Gryffindor friends who had taken such a liking to her. And then it hit him.

Jonathan Boot.

It was painfully obvious how much the young wizard cared for Hermione – something that angered Tom to the very core. If he could devise a way for Boot to find out that Hermione planned on leaving, Tom was sure he would do anything he could to make her stay. All Tom had to do was plant the idea into his head, and let the magic work itself.

Tom couldn't help the grin that slid up his cheeks. When Hermione found out what was missing and who was behind it, she would hate Boot and run straight to Tom for comfort.

It was perfect. Two birds with one hex. Next to no work on his part would earn him the one thing he wanted most.

Hermione Granger.

Tom was swept from his thoughts when Hermione shifted around in the bed to face him. He wiped the grin off his face and replaced it with an air of concern.

She opened her eyes and lifted them to his face, her cheek resting in the palm of her hand. She didn't speak, just looked at him with a hint of curiosity. Her gaze would drop to the pillow almost bashfully before slowly raising to look at him again.

Tom found himself getting lost in her chocolate eyes and wondered if she was feeling the same.

"Tom, I..." Hermione closed her mouth and dropped her gaze once again.

Tom waited for her to continue with bated breath.

"I know you don't want me to leave, but –"

Tom scoffed. "We are not going over this again."

"But I don't think what I do should be any of your concern," she finished.

"None of my – who else is going to be there for you each month, Hermione? Who is going to be in your time waiting to welcome you with open arms? Certainly not Harry or what's-his-redhead. The moment you go back, you're going to get yourself killed."

Hermione's face had begun to steel over, and Tom knew he was losing her. He decided to change tactics.

"Look," he began, "I won't make you do anything you don't want to, but I want you to know how much you've helped me."

Hermione's eyebrows flew up.

"Having you here – having someone to truly look after other than myself – has made me feel like a whole different person. I feel – I feel. And it's something I've never had before."

By the look on her face, he knew he had saved it. Her face showed the closest thing to compassion she'd ever directed toward him.

"Hermione." Tom grabbed her free hand in his. "I'm not telling you to give up on your time. I'm asking you to consider staying here." With me.