Chapter Text
It wasn’t often that Hermione came home to find Tom Riddle waiting for her. It usually meant she’d upset him, somehow. How she could have possibly done that without seeing him all day, she didn’t know.
“Good evening, Tom.”
“You weren’t at dinner.”
She took her gloves off, pulling one finger at a time, and placed one on top of the other on the sideboard. Calm. Measured. Controlled. “Was I supposed to be at dinner?”
“You’re always supposed to be at dinner.”
She unravelled her scarf slowly from around her neck, folding it neatly before it joined her gloves. She still hadn’t looked at him. “My apologies for missing it, then.”
The strain from his effort to remain calm was clear in his voice. “Where were you?”
Hermione pulled the pins from her hair, counting. One, two… They, too, went on the sideboard. “Out.”
A deep breath. He really was trying. “Where? With whom?”
Five, six. “The Leaky Cauldron with Harry.”
“Just Harry?”
“No, not just Harry, though he is the reason I was there. I wasn’t aware, when he asked, that there would be others.” Eight. Almost done. Tendrils spilling around her shoulders.
“Why didn’t you leave once you knew?”
“Because I was hungry and already missing dinner. Because I knew I’d come home to the Spanish Inquisition either way.” Eleven and done. Using her fingers, she loosened the hair at the roots, freeing it after a long day in its bun.
Suddenly, Tom’s fingers joined hers. She’d not even heard him move. That didn’t bode well for tonight. “Did you sit next to him?”
Letting her hands drop, knowing the routine, she tried not to shake her head. “No. Not opposite either. There was someone between us. I didn’t even have to look at him.”
“Good girl. Who do you belong to, Hermione?”
They played this game a lot. “You, my Lord.”
He hummed with satisfaction. “Yes. Mine. Tell me, Mine, what would you like to do for our anniversary next week?”
Ten years since he set his eyes on her. Ten years since he bound them together for eternity. “We both have work, so perhaps dinner, just the two of us, and we’ll plan a trip somewhere when we have time off together.”
“Where would you like to go?” She couldn’t see his face, but his fingers were still gentle as he combed them through her curls, encouraging them.
“We could go somewhere new or, if you’re so inclined, we can revisit that place we went to on our honeymoon in Croatia. That could be romantic.”
His lips found the crook of her neck and she moaned softly the way he liked.
Wandering hands left her hair and began to trace her curves. “That’s a nice idea,” he muttered between kisses. “I’ve been thinking about a gift I’d like.”
Getting to the point faster than usual. “Have you come to a conclusion?”
“Yes.” He paused, probably for effect. “A child.”
There was no way he’d missed her tensing, even if it had been brief. “A specific child?”
A humourless chuckle. “My child. Our child. One of our own.”
He’d never mentioned it before. It seemed…odd. “You’ve never said you want children.”
The answering smile was felt against her skin. “Do you not want children?”
“I’ve never thought about it.” Not since she married him, anyway. “Didn’t see the point when you hadn’t said you wanted any. Nothing changes your mind once it’s made up.”
“As true as that usually is, I have changed my mind on this occasion.”
“Why?”
“What is the only thing that I want more than power?”
“Immortality?”
Another laugh. “No, that’s part of power. I want us to rule forever.” He paused again but continued when she didn’t answer. “You.”
“What does that have to do with having a child?”
One large, masculine hand pressed softly against her lower abdomen. “Other than it being a symbol of our love and devotion, it’s the next step for us. It will make you happy. We can move out of the castle too, if you like.”
Wandlessly unzipping her dress, it fell to the floor to make a puddle around her feet, and his hand returned to its spot where their baby would grow, his skin soft and warm against hers. “Are you ready to be a father, Tom?”
His chuckle made her shiver. “Yes, darling. I have been for a while.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
The grazing of his teeth across the sensitive skin below her ear had her melting, her knees almost giving way. He’d never let her fall though. She knew that. “Well, you weren’t pregnant before.”
“I’m no-” Oh. OH. “Tom, what have you done?”
When he spun her, she saw his triumphant grin. “Stopped your potion.”
“I’ve been taking my potion.” She had, hadn’t she?
He hummed, delighted. “You’ve been drinking fertility. I did some tinkering with Severus. We managed to get it to look and taste like your contraceptive. It was rather ingenious.”
Hermione couldn’t get past the shock of it, though she knew there was no point in being upset. Ten years with him ensured she knew that. He controlled everything, now.
“Are you terribly upset with me, darling?” He didn’t sound sorry, because he wasn’t.
Even as her eyes stayed trained on his, her hand found her belly, and the subtle hardness she’d thought nothing of before. “No. I’m not sure I’m ready to be a mother, though.”
Tom stroked her hair gently. Reverently. “Well you have about eight months to work that out.” Pulling out his wand, he cast the detection charm, and her tummy glowed a shimmering gold. That was it, then. Nothing else for it. She understood the game now. He thought he was losing her, so he’d just ensured he wouldn’t. How very Tom. The wand disappeared again as he lowered to his knees, joining the dress, and kissed her stomach. “This one will be all Mine, just like you.” The red flashed in his eyes as he looked at her again. “You are Mine, aren’t you Hermione.”
“Yes, Tom,” she answered without thought. It was routine, now, after all these years. He would never let her go. Not now. As she raked her fingers through his hair, she wished he’d let her fall, let her melt into a puddle beneath his feet like her dress, and let the castle vanish her away. “Always.”