Veal & Venison {Tomione || 1940s/1990s}

31|| King to H2

31|| King to H2

The next few days--following the weekly Knight meeting on Sunday--are spent in intense studies leading up to the N.E.W.T.S. and other class exams.  Between the essays, practicals, and exams, the majority of the students barely have time to sleep.  But given that Hermione and Tom have never been the "majority," they thrive in the pressure and consequential hours spent studying together.  Outside and inside of class, the two are rarely spent apart, only separated when Tom has Head Boy duties in the early evenings.  And those are longer this week, given that Clary covered for Tom when he and Hermione fled to watch the duel of the century.  Apparently, it had taken away from her 'personal time' with Abraxas, not that Tom had to question such a thing.

On Wednesday evening after dinner, Hermione awaits the remaining Knight for the weekly training, Rosier never being on time but it's not like Hermione curses him in punishment.  That's probably why he's always late, Hermione thinks.  But all the same, he is there a mere second later, rushing to the group gathered around Hermione, all of them dwarfing her height, not that it makes her seem less intimidating.  With the scowl often on her face, Hermione's more terrifying than some of their mothers.

"Today--" Her words falter as the door opens again, a rabid flashback to the attack on the D.A. back in her Fifth Year, though not with the same excitement as before.  No, this time, there is only a singular figure, distinguishable from his sweeping stride and flowing cloak, a reassurance that it's not a stranger but a dangerous man given that this is Tom Riddle.

Hermione's eyebrows furrow deeply at the sight of him, Tom's eyebrows raising in response as he directs himself towards her and her alone.  She cannot help her sharp and curious tone as she asks "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd check in on their practice...personally," his voice has a hissing tone to it, but with less of a razor-sharp edge than with a humoured lift.  But she dismisses it, turning back to the Knights with her deep-set seriousness and coldness.

"If that's your wish," she says to Tom, though fails to look at him before addressing the others in a broader, more commanding tone.  "We'll be dueling today.  Partner-up."

The typical partners group together as one would expect: Lestrange and Avery, Abraxas and Rosier, Nott and Mulciber, Dolohov and Orion, Crabbe and Goyle.  It's a mundane gesture on their part, playing on Hermione's desire for newness and Tom's wish for something interesting.

"Will you be going first, Hermione?  With our Lord?" Lestrange asks with a bit of mindless curiosity.  And yet, Hermione and Tom both catch the fake intention, if not from their past with this boy, then through their sharp observations that let little pass without notice.

"I do not think that I nor Hermione is in need of the practice," Tom hisses, a threat hanging on his every word and tempting the rise of Voldemort.  It's a tone he has not expressed in some time, reminding the followers of their master's power and the pain he can induce.

"I apologize, my Lord."  Lestrange ducks in head in submission, not quite missing Tom's acceptance of it with a small nod.

Hermione, sensing the usual tension of these meetings, takes to her part as another leader, commanding their actions given this unlimited power over them.  "Lestrange, Avery--you're first."

The two take to dueling, the others surrounding them and watching the techniques as spells are flung and curses dodged.  But it is a repetitive sight for Hermione, seeing this weekly and immune to the improvements of the masses.  Then there is Tom, not truly coming to this meeting to check their progress, but feeling "off" when not at Hermione's side.  Their connection is becoming dangerous.