To the Victors

Part 60

"Stay a moment, Hermione. I would like to discuss something with you."

The air was still tense between her and Tom, but she was trying to gather courage to speak with him about what she'd found when she slept while wearing the ring.

After spending the majority of a weekend with Memory Tom, Hermione had begun setting aside the golden ring before bed every night lest she accidentally trigger an event.

That seemed to be when whatever it was happened most easily, though she once slipped into the memory world while idly daydreaming in the library.

However, as long as she was aware, she could resist its strange pull. It was between the hook of a portkey and the dizzying fall into a Pensieve, yet like neither at once, and she quickly learned to recognize the sensation and steel herself against it.

It seemed she could block it as easily as a thought, and so she wore the ring during the day to avoid any questions from her professor.

"Yes, Tom?" It was after the club meeting. They made quick work of righting the room, all of four wand movements from the professor needed, then he turned to Hermione.

"I wanted to discuss next year with you. You see, I've spoken with Horace, and he has agreed to allow you a unique opportunity."

Hermione swallowed thickly and leaned closer to him, her amber eyes wide at the appealing combination of words. "What kind of opportunity?"

"Well," he started, eyes sly and slitted. "Well, you would no longer be my student—"

"What? But I haven't even sat my NEW—"

He lifted a hand to slice through her panic. "Because you would be my assistant. I've convinced Horace that these last two years have been enough to set you ahead of your year. You could easily pass now, and having you practice the same exercises as the others would be a disservice."

"What about my other classes?" she intoned.

Tom chuckled and reached into his robes. Out came a long, gold chain with a little hourglass on it. She gasped and reached out, but he held it away from her. "This will be used only under my supervision, but you will be allowed to attend all your classes and mine. However, those are the only additional hours you will be given." She barely held in her groan. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Tom. I understand." Hermione sighed.

He tucked the glinting gold away from her avaricious eyes. "Good girl. You will also be expected to eat and sleep, preferably three meals and six to eight hours a night."

"You're a harsh taskmaster."

Tom took her chin in hand. "You've no idea, my dear."

She blushed hotly in his grip; when he released her, she fell onto an empty seat spelled from behind a desk. "What about my prefect duties?"

"You are one of the most organized individuals I have ever met, darling. I'm sure you'll be fine." He conjured a sofa and tugged her onto it with him, planting a kiss to the tender flesh behind her ear. "You know what this means, yes?"

Her lashes fluttered and her breath stuttered. "No?"

"You'll no longer be my student once you've finished your exam next week." His wet tongue left a cool trail in its wake. "You shall visit me as soon as you're done with them. Won't you?"

"Yes," she breathed. She would agree with anything he said when he was so gentle, so delicious.

Long fingers tickled across her chest, skimming the ring that hung by her breasts. "I truly can't wait, my love, to show you what you mean to me. My patience, usually boundless, is nigh worn out having waited for you. You have no idea the power you have in this world, my sweet—"