Don't Repeat History

Chapter 10 ~ 2^nd of September, 1942

...After using the facilities, she quietly left Myrtle and turned the corner not expecting the warm body to be waiting there for her to see. Or two...

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His hands traveled the length of the girl's body. The blond hair twisted between his fingers as he tugged at the girl to come closer to him with every breath she took as he kissed her. Tom had tired of waiting for Hermione while she went to the loo and when Sarah Tallavaugh had sauntered over to him from across the hall...he couldn't resist. Her body was gorgeous, curves in all the right places, breasts shaped to perfection, her tiny nose perfect for the tongue lapping kisses Tom loved so much.

What he hadn't expected was Hermione to come out and see him making out with Sarah. Oh shit. He definitely hadn't expected that. He saw her from the corner of his eye, she was wearily analyzing the situation and came to the conclusion that she wasn't good enough for Tom.

Surprised at her reaction - jealousy, Hermione backed away from the passionate couple. Why should I be jealous? It's not like I should be! It's still Voldemort we're talking about!

Nonetheless, Hermione could not simply ignore the pain she felt in her gut, watching the man she hated make out so passionately with a woman she shouldn't be feeling jealous of. It was close to ridiculousness on her part.

Tom quickly pushed Sarah away from him. She was startled and wanted Tom, but knew better than to get in the way of what he wanted. Sarah bitterly turned and walked away as Tom ran towards the Slytherin dorms.

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Hermione started to cry the minute she entered her empty dorm room. Sobbing with all the emotions she had had to keep hidden for the past few days. She wiped away her tears angrily. Someone knocked on the door, but didn't even wait for her to open the door.

Tom stormed in, closed the door behind him and locked it. He took in the sight of a crying Hermione and picked her up in his arms soundlessly. As he lifted her up, she struggled against him, her fists pounding against his chest. He shoved her against a wall, her skirts hiked up and she felt her pulse shoot up astronomically. His eyes shone with desire as he took her mouth into his and he kissed her gently. At first. After a bit of tender kisses, she slowly opened her mouth to him and he entered it without a dollop of uncertainty.

She had unknowingly stopped pounding on his body but her pounds had transformed into strokes. Strokes that passionately felt all she could of his hard body. Sinewy, but hard, he felt wonderful to her senses. His dark hair, she played with, she pushed against his body, forcing him to continue his ministrations but more fervently. Their tongues battled it out on their own scary war field, but eventually Tom found her four-poster bed, they laid down to calm their shivering bodies...stricken with desire.

Struggling to untie his tie and unbutton his shirt, her fingers failed to accomplish that little task as her body became unbidden with hidden desire that flowed from him to her...her heady high of passion overtook her senses, not even permitting her rational thought. He too had forgotten everything and became immersed with taking over his 'Tori'.

He wanted to conquer her. Wanted to feel her under his skin, his naked body as they slid in perfect harmony together. He wanted so badly, but he knew he couldn't force her. She was special. A person that jumped into his life, a person that he didn't even fully understand yet. A mystery to be unraveled, even if it took a lifetime.

Her hand brought him back to the present and made a deep groan play out of his throat. "Tori...don't stop," he breathed passionately. Her hand had wrapped around him, the heat from his body part overtaking Hermione with an unreasonable desire that shook her to the very core. She didn't even realize she had grabbed him there. She continued to hold him, tightly, but eventually he took her hand in his and showed her what to do with it.

Stroking back and forth, she discovered she liked doing this. She overtook his mouth as she straddled him. Her other hand played with his nipples on his hard chest. He moaned into her mouth as she conquered him, the complete opposite of what Tom wanted. He wasn't going to complain at the moment, however.

The sound of rapping on her door brought Hermione back to her senses, Tom's too. They quickly unshackled themselves from each other, a promise of heated passion in the future in both of their eyes as they quickly dressed. Hermione spelled her books to lay out across the unkempt-looking bed.

The person at the door sure is impatient, she thought as she put the final touches to her hair and made sure Tom was dressed.

Hermione opened the door to see two very enthusiastic looking, very happy professors.

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Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were standing at her door. Hermione rubbed her eyes and opened the door wearily for them. She hoped it was good, she and Tom had been having so much fun.

"Herm - ahem, Victoria! We need to take you to Professor Dumbledore's office for a bit to discuss - to discuss your classes from your old school...Please follow me," McGonagall said, pointedly making sure Hermione understood that Tom could not follow, nor hear of what they were going to speak of.

"Um, Ok. Tom, wait for me in the Common Room?" It was not a question, it was a demand, and Tom didn't like being told what to do. Especially since he was still filled to the brim with a heated passion unreleased. Damned Professors for getting in the way, he thought.

Hermione was led into Dumbledore's office and waited until the two giddy professors finished their excited whispers to each other. They look awfully cute with their heads bent toward each other, Hermione thought wickedly.

Hermione coughed to break up the whispers and to include herself in the conversation.

"Ah yes... We are sorry Ms. Granger for ignoring you. The thing is, there is wonderful news regarding your little traveling expedition."

Hermione nodded to say, "continue!"

"You can go home, right now, this minute!" came McGonagall's unfamiliar chirpy voice.

Hermione frowned, "It almost seems as if you want me to leave as soon as possible."

"No, no... we just thought you might want to go home right away. The Americans are truly genius... they sent us a protocol version of the Decade Time-Turner. They say it'll work, no problem."

Hermione nodded. "I'll see. At the moment I think I just want to rest for a bit and think this over."

They looked at each worriedly and then let her go, reluctantly that is.

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Why don't I just go now? Why am I waiting? Do I want the man I hate? That's impossible, Granger....

She shifted nervously, her hands twisted together, back and forth, she was undecided. The feelings she received from Tom were indeed surprisingly wonderful, but she couldn't help but doubt her own thoughts. Maybe she did want Tom. Strange as that sounded.

After walking back to her room zombie-like, totally ignoring everyone, even Tom when she made way through the Common Room, Hermione flung herself on her bed. The bed she and Tom had shared so freely just an hour ago. Strange emotions constricted her throat, forbidding her from crying, but making her want to vent all the same.

She felt like a weaver's trap was set for her, and until she did as she knew she was being "told" to do, she would be set free, but nothing of that made much sense to her. She didn't want to believe that she was losing control of herself, her feelings, the most unguarded part of her armor against the world that she had entered.

The pillow behind her head still kept the essence of Tom on it. The heady scent of him made her close her eyes, reliving the moment when she overtook him with her hand, wrapping ever so cautiously at first, but increasing her confidence as he taught her what to do. She felt desire stir in herself before she could stop it, the remembrance of his hands, all over her taut body, a body wanting, yet knowing she was not ready for a romance that would send her over the edge.

His fingers... they had played with her body like a violin being tuned... just to perfection. Every move he had made, made her all the more ready to play. The tunes she would've played for him at that moment made her shiver. She knew she would be his greatest piece of music, even to her own ears, but she knew the violin's strings could break just as easily if pushed too hard to perfection, too soon.

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