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"Hermione?" came Tom's soft voice, sending little chills over her languid body as she opened her eyes later that night. "There's my girl," he smiled when she
opened her eyes and looked into his.
Tom was leaning against the mirror, gazing at her with sparkling eyes. He had already shed most of his clothes, making her wonder how long he had been there.
"Where did you go?" she asked him sleepily as she crawled to the end of her bed and cast her legs off the side as she stretched. She could see his appreciative
eyes as he watched her do so, and sprang off the bed so she, too, could touch the glass that stood as a barrier between them.
"Business," he answered cryptically. The way he said it, she was certain she'd rather not know more. She often had to remind herself that this gentle, sexy
man had a dark side as well. But she had better things to think about as she gazed into his eyes.
"I wish you were really touching me, Hermione," Tom whispered as he traced her lips with a finger along the glass on his side. She closed her eyes as she kissed
the spot he was touching lovingly. "Mione, what's your favorite color?" he suddenly asked, as if he were desperate to know.
Hermione smiled at him and said, "Well, it used to be pink, but anymore I would have to say it's a particular shade of stormy blue."
Tom laughed. "You always know just what to say to me, you know that?" he asked with a blush. "It's almost scary, if you think about it."
"What's your favorite color, Tom?" she asked.
"Well," he said, grinning. "Up until recently, I would have to pick a nice Slytherin green, but—" and here he raised his brows suggestively, "—more recently,
I might have to select the certain pink shade of the part of you I still haven't gotten to see, maddeningly enough."
"What part, Tom?" she asked as she put her hand against the glass where his face was. He closed his eyes and pretended to nuzzle it.
"That sweet little part you never seem to uncover, love," he said, trying to catch a glimpse inside her undies with a suggestive smile.
"You want to see it?" she inquired playfully.
"Oh, yes," he said, and bent down onto his hands and knees so he could look up at her with an expectant air.
Hermione giggled.
"Take off your panties, Hermione," he whispered as he continued to watch. She slid them off slowly, then stood with her legs somewhat closed, her cheeks
pinkening prettily. "Touch it, Hermione. I want to see your fingers there."
Hermione sat down with her back against the bed frame and spread open her legs so she could slide her fingers down to touch herself. She chuckled when he
bent in closer with a huge grin, watching her as closely as possible. He pressed his nose against the glass of his mirror and his look grew hungrier.
"Put some of that lovely wetness on your nipples, sweetheart," he said. "Pretend it's my tongue, tasting you. Do you know how much I want to taste those pert
nipples of yours, Hermione?"
"Yes!" she breathed as her eyes closed to mere slits. "I want you to, Tom, so much!"
Tom leaned back and took off his shorts, then took up a position similar to her own. "Mmm, so delectable," he told her as he began to stroke himself. "I want
to see your finger go inside you, like it's mine," he added as his fingers moved up and down. "Yes, baby, just like that. Mmm, I can tell that thing is untouched,
you know, the way that finger slid in. Put in another with it. Make it really wet for me."
"Ah!" she groaned when she'd done what he asked. "Tom, get your cock all wet for me, like I'm tasting you. I want to taste you, you know. I dream of tasting you."
Tom spit on his hand, and slathered it all over himself, casting her a wicked grin. "Mmm, your mouth is so nice on me, Mione," he told her as he smoothed his
hand over himself again and again. "Play with your sweet clit while you're doing that, love. You'll like it a lot better."
With a smile, Hermione's other hand came down to do it, and she found out he definitely knew what he was talking about. "Oh, mercy, Tom! Thanks for the advice."
"My pleasure," he purred, still moving his hand as he surged forward onto his knees, steadying himself against the glass with his other hand. "Come up here,
love. Let me taste your sweet mouth."
Hermione had to use her hands to position herself where he wanted her, but as soon as her mouth was plastered to the glass just on the other side of his own,
she slid the two fingers back in and used her other hand to play with a nipple again.
"Hmm, she likes breast play," he teased, sliding down the glass to pretend he was licking the other nipple for her. "Do you know what I like, Hermione?"
"What?" she breathed hotly.
"I like your sweet little hole," he whispered, sliding down again so he was pretending to lick her clit.
"Get back up here, Tom," she pleaded. "I want to watch you come."
"You mean this thing?" he asked, pressing his swollen cock against the glass, rubbing it on the smooth surface so she could see the length of his shaft. Her
fingers left her breast to trace it with a little groan. "You are so beautiful, Hermione. I want to come when you do."
Each one of them leaned a forehead against the thin glass that separated them from each other, gazing down at the questing, insistent hands of the other. Hermione
was finding it very difficult to hold back now, and he could tell because she always made those little noises when she was near.
Tom groaned as a little wetness came out the tip of his cock, that clear fluid that always proceeded the real event. He rubbed it all over the tip , smearing
the glass, and this was enough to set Hermione off big time. She had never come so hard in her life before, and her voice keened in release, making Tom come
over and over against the glass. He left a rather large whitish mark there when he was done.
Looking at it, Hermione couldn't help but giggle.
"Make one for me, Mione," he challenged her. She slid her fingers back inside herself and wiped the juices right across from his own.
Then they both looked at each other and grinned. "Wonder if anyone would notice if we left those there?" said Tom wryly.
"Yeah, right, mister neat freak," she teased. "Like you even could."
"In this case," he said as he stood up and laid back on his bed, "I think I could."
The weeks that led up to the masquerade were some of the busiest, and the most frustrating, that Hermione could ever remember having. She worked diligently
on the decorations, transforming the ball room into a winter wonderland. She had opted to use a blending of colors from all four houses, as well as lots of
accents like holly and mistletoe, and even a huge Christmas tree near one of the huge windows so it could be enjoyed by all.
She told Tom everything now, all about her days, and things about her past, and even occasionally about his future, though she did try not to reveal to much of
the last. She didn't want to be the cause of anything that he would eventually do.
But, this was the most frustrating part of all. She knew in her heart that she belonged to Tom, body and soul, but she could not see how they would ever be
able to come together if their only interaction was through a few mirrors. It was driving her to the brink of insanity, just thinking about it.
Hermione had taken to studying the Mirror Spells book in depth, seeking a solution. She tried to create a portal to Tom's room from her own, but ended up in
Malfoy's room instead. Of course, he was convinced she had gone there to be with him, and she'd had to vehemently deny it as she fended him off and returned
to her own room.
"Damn," she breathed on the eve of the ball. "I really wanted him to come to the masquerade."
She sighed deeply as she thought about how sexy the object of her affections truly was, and then suddenly she froze. Object of her affections? Object? Hermione
was so excited for Tom to return to his room she could barely contain herself. Could she be right? She hoped against hope that she was.
"Hey," said Tom as he came into view. "What is my sweet girl doing tonight? Sorry I was gone so long, prefect meeting."
Hermione came up to her mirror to receive his kiss, which had become a sort of habit they'd formed. Afterwards, though, she watched him with such excitement in
her eyes that it made him look at her sharply.
"What are you up to, Miss Granger?" he wanted to know. He crossed his arms over his chest.
"Oh, nothing," she answered, toying with her wand and trying not to laugh.
"Right," he said skeptically.
"Pervenire in Speculum," Hermione whispered on a breath filled with desire. Then she reached out and grabbed Tom by his tie, pulling him right through the
mirror and into her arms.
"Mione!" he gasped, his head reeling from the experience as he took in the full impact of what she had just done. Why hadn't he ever thought of that? He eagerly
returned the kiss she planted on his stunned lips, his tongue snaking out to touch hers. He felt like a man who had been out in the desert without water for weeks,
and this beautiful girl was his only source.
Tom carried Hermione over to her bed and laid her right in the middle, falling on top of her hungrily.
"Oh, Tom!" she breathed as he pulled open her bathrobe, revealing the sweet, hot flesh beneath. "Yes, Tom, touch me!"
His hands were everywhere at once, and Hermione's explored him with equal fervor. He slid his fingers deep inside her mouth, letting her suckle them, then
wiped their wetness on her clit, making her gasp as his tongue slid into her mouth at the same time.
"Sweet little wench," he whispered against her lips. "I'm going to take you to the masquerade, after all. And I'm going to make you wait till after to give you
the grand prize."
"Oh!" she groaned, frustrated by his words. "You wouldn't!"
"Believe me, my darling, I would," he said as he kissed a path down her throat and proceeded to mark her there. "I'm a firm believer in pomp and circumstance."
"Will you kiss it?" she asked hopefully.
Tom gave her neck one last nip, and then positioned his head between her thighs, kissing each one before he delved in for the taste he craved. He did not let
up until his little witch was screaming his name again and again, writhing in her first real taste of making love.
"Mmm, your turn," she said wickedly as she pushed him down into her mattress. Of course, he did not object at all.
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