Veritas

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The room was dark and quiet. Rain fell softly beyond the walls of Hermione's flat.

When they returned from Dumbledore's office, Tom and Hermione immediately undressed one another and fell into bed.

Instead of making love, they hid beneath the covers and they kissed, entirely naked, skin against skin. His arms were wrapped around her, hand snaking up her back to entwine his fingers in her curls.

Tom savored the feeling of her body against his, the soft curve of her calf as it wrapped around his legs, the velvet smoothness of her skin. His senses were heightened, her scent potent and the feel of her lips divine.

He slid his tongue against hers and she moaned. He loved the sharp intakes of breath through her nose, the way she dragged her fingertips over the dips and planes of his muscles, how her hands pulled at his hair.

They kissed and kissed, not a frenzy of lust, but a savoring of sensations, a swapping of energy, each seeking more of the other.

"Are you afraid?" he asked in a whisper.

He kissed her throat, leaving a trail of kisses along her collarbone.

"Yes," she answered truthfully, her voice quiet and small.

"Don't be." He kissed her. "This will change everything between us... but not in the way that you fear."

He hovered above her. She reached up and pulled his face down to hers, kissing him, releasing a desperate whimper from her throat.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips. "Merlin's sake, I love you."

He laid his head on her chest, and listened to her heart beating frantically against his ear.

He stayed like that for a moment. It was hot under the sheet, their breaths and body heat filling the dark cave as they listened to the soft patter of rain on the roof.

He took her hands and threaded her fingers with his, then lifted them above her head and pinned them there as he kissed her.

"You're mine," Hermione whispered as she came up for air.

"Yours," he muttered against her cheek.

"And... I'm yours," she said again.

"Mine," he answered.

He shifted to his side and pulled her with him, curling his arms tightly to mold her body against his. "Mine forever... you brilliant witch."

"So..." she whispered. "We talk... tomorrow?"

He nodded, but she couldn't see in the darkness, so he replied, "Yes, baby. Tomorrow."

Her cheeks heated at his use of the endearment. He only seemed to use it in moments like this, when they entered into a moment of connection that was too powerful for words.

"Shall I tell you... or should I... show you?"

"That will be up to you."

She hid her face against his shoulder. Tom leaned his cheek against her hair, fingers stroking her spine softly.

Neither of them spoke about what they'd given up.

That reality no longer existed, and the reality of one another was steadily taking precedence.

"I've wanted this since I kissed you in Godric's Hollow," he murmured against her hair.

"Wanted what?" she asked. "For me to tell you the truth?"

"No," he said quietly. "Just this."

Hermione was quiet for several moments.

Then she asked, "What will you do now that you've quit your job?"

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