Hermione's Riddle

Winter Break

A knock on the door drew Tom awake. He got up and opened the door of the Slytherin Head's room not caring what he looked like. Which unfortunately meant messy hair and bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep.

"Woah. We were looking for Mr. Perfect, have you seen him?"

Tom turned a glare onto Abraxas. "What is he doing here?"

Fleamont slung an arm around Abraxas' shoulder. "Bloody hell, didn't you know that Abraxas does whatever I say?"

Abraxas shoved Fleamont's arm off of him. "I do not." His next words were for Tom. "He said he wanted to check up on you before we left."

Tom shook his head. He had no clue how Hermione put up with these two. Hermione. . .

"Wipe that look off your ugly mug," said Fleamont.

"Have you made your decision on what to do about Hermione?" asked Abraxas, somberly.

Tom sighed heavily out through his nose. It was too early for this. "No."

"You have all of winter break. Make your decision soon while hardly anyone is here. Alone time is just what the two of you need."

Abraxas slugged Fleamont on the arm. "Keep it in your pants. Those bookworms are not like that. Are you?"

Tom threw his hands up in disgust at the two. "She is a spy and untrustworthy. There will not be any of that going on." Tom went to shut the door on them but paused in his actions. He pointed a finger at Abraxas then Fleamont, "get him out of here before someone sees." Tom then slammed the door shut on them.

Sighing out through his mouth, he plopped down onto the bed. As bothersome as the two were, they had a point. He had to figure out what he was going to do with Hermione. The logical choice would be to kill her but knew that he couldn't bring himself to do that. He would also lose Abraxas and Fleamont as friends.

He had to figure something out and soon. Not only did this affect him and how he felt about her but their rift was also causing attention. A week avoiding Hermione caused some unwanted attention. He had to figure something out not only to help himself emotionally but to help keep his and Hermione's secrets.

. . . .

Hermione looked up from her book when the portrait to her private dorm swung open. Tom shuffled in with his suitcase.

"Tom?" His gaze flicked to her but he did not say anything. Instead, he shuffled quietly to his room.

Tom must have decided to move back into their dorm. It was an improvement. Hermione would gladly take it.

. . . .

The clock struck twelve. It was officially Christmas.

Hermione gently tapped on Tom's door. He had finally moved back into his room last week. That did not mean everything went back to normal. The arrogant, insufferable Slytherin had not said a single word to her. She was going to make sure that changed tonight.

The door opened to reveal an annoyed looking Tom. His forest green eyes sent shivers down her spine. "What?" He growled.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his tone. She shoved the wrapped book into his chest. "I got this for you before. . ." Hermione glanced down at the floor, at a loss for words. When she looked back up, Tom was looking at the book as if it were a foriegn object. "Just take it."