Okay I am so so so sorry that this has taken me so long to post! I haven't been in a writing mood AT ALL until the last couple of weeks. There were the holidays, and then I moved at the beginning of the year, and now we have this virus mess going on. All of this equals me just binging Netflix and doing nothing else hahahahaha

SPEAKING OF THE VIRUS I hope all of you are okay! And staying inside! I hope this is all over soon!

Now, I know I said nothing sexual would happen until Hermione turned 17, but this kind of ran away from me. Sorry to anyone that this bothers, but please remember that physically they're only 4 years apart! And Hermione is only a few months from being 17 anyway!

On with the show!

"He just walked away! Who does that?" Hermione finishes her recount of the night before. The night that changed her life forever. She continues her pacing, surprised that she hasn't worn a hole in the floor.

"Maybe he was just overwhelmed. It's kind of a big deal," Draco suggests, shrugging.

Hermione whirls around. "And it's not a big deal to me?" she heatedly asks, glaring at her best friend as he sits before her on his bed. "I don't want to hear anything that you have to say anyway. I can't believe you've known this entire time and you never told me!"

"It wasn't my secret to tell," he shrugs.

"UGH," she flops onto the bed beside him, staring up at the ceiling. Her irritation quickly evaporates, and a new feeling starts to push through. Fear. Her chest tightens and her voice grows small as she asks, "Why did he leave me? Does he not want me?"

"Hermione," Draco starts softly. "Tom loves you. He would never intentionally do anything to hurt you. I'm sure that he has an explanation for walking away."

Hermione sighs and turns over to face Draco. "I'm sure you're right." She grimaces. "I don't know how to act around him now. How are you supposed to act around someone when you find out you're their mate? Oh Merlin," she groans. "I'm his mate."

"Don't worry, Hermione. It'll all work out."

"No, you don't understand." Her eyes go wide as she stresses, "Lavender's going to kill me."

Draco laughs and shoves her off the bed.

Hermione rushes down to the Entrance Hall from Gryffindor Tower, lugging her suitcase and Crookshanks along with her. As she steps off the staircase and into the crowd of students waiting for the carriages, she spots her friends and makes her way over to them.

"It's about time, Hermione!" Pansy exclaims. "We thought you weren't going to make it."

Out of breath, she wheezes out, "Crookshanks was giving me fits, but I finally got him in the carrier with some treats."

The group around her continues on with idle chitchat as they start to make their way toward the now approaching carriages, and Hermione's gaze travels around the room, looking for one person in particular.

"He already left."

She whips around to face Draco. "What?"

"I saw him leaving when I got here. He probably walked passed the wards and apparated back to the Manor."

Hermione's expression falls as she realizes she won't be able to talk to Tom before she leaves. She sighs as she climbs behind Draco into a carriage and tells herself to send him a letter as soon as she makes it home.

Hermione's stomach turns anxiously as she waits for Pansy and Daphne to finish getting ready. She fidgets with the hem of her blush colored silk dress where it lays along the middle of her thighs, wondering distantly if it's too short. It's almost been a full week since she last saw Tom—when he walked away from her. She's started a dozen letters to send to him the last few days, but the words never sounded quite right.

She crosses her legs, foot tapping in the air. She leans forward and unconsciously starts biting her fingernails.

"Hermione, enough!"

Hermione jumps at Daphne's exclamation. "What?"

"You've been fretting since we got here. You need to calm down!"

She groans, "I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous."

Pansy walks over and grabs both of Hermione's hands into her own and pulls her up off her seat. "Hermione, repeat after me: I am a strong woman."

She rolls her eyes. "Pansy—"

"Shush! Repeat!"

She sighs. "I am a strong woman."

"I am beautiful. I am smart."

"I am beautiful. I am smart."

"Professor Riddle would be an idiot if he didn't pull me into a broom closet and fuck me tonight."

Her eyes widen and she rips her hands away. "PANSY!"

"What?" Pansy innocently asks as she makes her way back over to the mirror beside a giggling Daphne.

"That's not what I want!"

"Oh please, Hermione," Daphne jumps in. "We see the way you look at him when you think no one else is watching. I'm surprised he's lasted this long before trying to get into your pants, honestly. That man has some crazy self-control."

Hermione glares at both of them. "He's our professor."

"No, Hermione. He's our professor. He's your mate."

Just the word shoves the nerves right back up her throat. Groaning, she throws her head in her hands and slams back down into her chair.

"Come on, Hermione, you should be celebrating! Every girl for the last few decades has secretly wished they were his mate. And you got it!" Pansy throws her fist up in a celebratory punch.

"Shut up, Pans, that's not what's important. Being a Veela's mate is one of the most romantic things ever. His world revolves around her and making her happy. That's what she should be focusing on," Daphne argues.

As they bicker back and forth, a feeling that she can now put a name to flows through Hermione. A wave of powerful magic rushes toward her and mingles with her own.

Tom's here.

Hermione sways on the dance floor with Draco as she mentally argues with herself not to look around the room for Tom. She and the girls made their way downstairs over an hour ago, and yet she still has not seen hide nor hair of him. If she was unsure whether he was avoiding her before, she definitely knows now. He always meets her the second she walks in, but not tonight.

As time passes, her anxiety and fear quickly turn into a raging inferno inside her head. How dare he drop something so monumental on her and then disappear. Not even stay to explain or talk to her about it? He knows her better than anyone, so he knows exactly how her mind works and how she's been turning this over and over and blaming herself.

That's it. No more. He better stay away now. She's not sure what she'll do to him once he finally shows his face.

"I can't believe he still hasn't talked to you," Draco says abruptly.

She sighs. "It's fine, Draco."

"No, it's not fine. He knows what this is doing to you. I can't believe that he would let you keep suffering like this."

She laughs humorlessly. "Clearly he doesn't care about what I'm going through."

As the song ends and switches into a new one, some couples leave the dance floor. Draco looks away from her at the movement around them and scowls as something catches his eye.

"Speak of the devil."

"What?" she gasps, whipping her head behind her to see Tom headed right for them.

"The audacity he has to think he can just walk up to you as if he isn't in deep shit," he scoffs.

She doesn't reply. She's too distracted by the thoughts now zooming through her head. What will she say to him? Will she say anything? Does she even want to talk to him? Does he even deserve her words?

Before she can come to a decision, a voice sounds from right behind her.

"May I step in?"

"Hell no you ca—"

"Draco," she interrupts. "I can handle this. Go."

He looks at her with concern shining in his eyes. "But—"

"Go," she says softly.

He searches her face for any sign of hesitance. When he finds none, he nods and backs away. He glares one more time at Tom before walking off in the direction of their friends. She sees them grouped together, staring at her and Tom and looking like they're arguing between each other.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before finally turning toward Tom. He holds out his hand and she takes it, laying her hand on his shoulder as he rests his other one against her waist. They start to sway to the music in silence, neither ready to be the first one to speak.

Finally, he opens his mouth. "Hermio—"

"Oh, I'm finally worth talking to now?" she spits out, unable to hold her tongue.

Guilt flashes over his face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have avoided you."

"No, you shouldn't have. Do you have any idea how I've been feeling the last few days?"

"I—"

"Wait." She gives a mirthless laugh and shakes her head. "No, of course you know. So that means you just don't care then, right? You must not if you were able to stay away for so long."

She looks away as tears spring to her eyes, not wanting him to see how much he hurt her.

Abruptly, he stops their dance and pulls her through the crowd and out into the hallway.

"What are you doing?" she demands.

He doesn't answer. She harrumphs but continues to follow him through the Manor until they reach the hallway to their rooms, far away from any eavesdropping guests.

He finally stops and turns to her, but she stays facing away from him. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just needed some time," he says gently.

She jerks her face back around to his. "Didn't mean to upset me? What did you think would happen? That I would just sit back and logically think 'oh, I'm sure this was hard for him and he just needs time to think'? Tom, you told me I was your mate. And then you just left me." A sob leaves her throat, tears streaming freely down her cheeks now. "Do you have any idea what that did to me? I was convinced that you hated me. That I wasn't good enough and you didn't want me."

She gasps as he rushes forward and cradles her face in his hands. He pulls her so close to him that she has nowhere to look but into his eyes.

"Hermione, I could never ever not want you. Please get that through your big, beautiful brain. I'm so stupid. I should've considered your feelings and I'm so sorry that I didn't. I never would've walked away if I knew that's what you would think." He wipes away her tears with his thumbs. "Okay? I'm so, so sorry."

Relief rushes through her. She wraps her arms around his back and crushes herself to his body. He holds her tight and cradles the back of her head, his cheek resting on the top.

She's missed him so much.

"Are we okay now?" he softly asks.

She nods, sniffling against his button up shirt.

"Good." He kisses the top of her head and pulls her tighter against him.

They sway back and forth for a few minutes, but she can't stop her brain from yelling question after question for very long. She finally can't wait any longer. She moves her grip to his waist and starts to pull back from him. She feels his hold on her tighten as she moves, but she gives him a reassuring squeeze and he reluctantly releases her.

"I have questions," she explains.

He sighs. "Yes, of course. Come on."

He motions for her to follow him further down the hall until they reach the door to his quarters. To her surprise, he opens the door and leads her in. As he shuts the door behind them, she takes the second to quickly glance around the room and take in Tom's private area.

Unsurprisingly, there's nothing personal. White walls and dark furniture. The only thing in the room that gives a clue as to who resides here is a desk against the wall to her left that has what she suspects to be essays laying on top of it. Other than that, this could be anyone's room.

She follows him over to the sitting area by the lit fireplace and they settle on the couch, a respectable distance between them.

"Okay, let it out."

She jumps in. "How long have you known I was your mate? Why didn't you tell me? Who else knows? Draco knows so I'm assuming Narcissa and Lucius do, too. Oh Merlin, does Dumbledore know? The other professors? Snape?" Her eyes widen more and more with every question that comes out of her mouth.

He leans forward and places his finger against her lips. She immediately stops talking.

"I've known you were my mate since the first moment I laid eyes on you in the Great Hall. I didn't mean to not tell you for so long. At first, I didn't want to overwhelm you. When I found out you were Muggleborn, I knew that your whole world had already been flipped on its axis. I didn't want to completely knock it off. Then, it just never seemed like the right time. I wasn't purposely keeping it a secret, but after so long, I didn't know how to tell you."

She nods in understanding. She can only imagine how difficult that must have been; to have this piece of information that's so important. Something that would change someone's life forever. To have to decide when the right time would be to tell that person. She won't lie to herself. She knows that—whatever context—she would have had a hard time coming to terms with everything.

"And yes, Narcissa and Lucius know. Of course they do. Dumbledore and the professors, too. Even Severus." He adds when he sees the horrified look on her face. "Dumbledore only offered me the position when I told him why I wanted it. He's been on my case for decades about it. He could tell the second I saw you and realized. And of course, all the professors have to know. It would be a little odd for me to have such a close relationship with just a normal student, wouldn't it?"

She nods. "I suppose." Groaning, she says, "Ugh, I can't believe Snape has known this whole time! How am I ever going to be able to go back to class?" She flops against the back of the couch, hands thrown up to hide her mortified face.

Tom laughs and leans forward to pull her hands away, pulling them into his lap. He strokes them with his thumbs as he reassures her, "Severus won't say a word to you. He knows he would have me to deal with if he did."

"If you say so," she grumbles.

He laughs again and pulls her into his side as he leans back. He throws his right arm around her and rests his left hand on her knee, kissing the top of her head. They've always been very comfortable with each other, but now that they're both on the same page, Hermione is surprised to find that physical affection is coming naturally.

They settle into a comfortable silence, content with just being in each other's presence. Problems solved and secrets revealed.

Again, this doesn't last long for Hermione.

All of a sudden, her body focuses in on the feeling of Tom's hand rubbing her bare knee. Pansy's words from earlier flash through her mind. Professor Riddle would be an idiot if he didn't pull me into a broom closet and fuck me tonight.

Not that she's ready for something like that.

Right?

Right.

She's only recently turned 16 and he's her professor! Not that either of those things matter when I'm his mate, according to Pansy and Daphne, her brain supplies. UGH. She squeezes her eyes closed and tries to shove those thoughts out of her head.

It doesn't work.

She's surrounded by all things Tom. His smell, his touch. She can even feel his magic like a warm, protective bubble wrapped around her. None of this helps her situation. She can feel a warmth blooming in her core, wetness starting to pool in her underwear. Her breathing is growing heavy and her nipples harden, obvious through the thin material of her dress without the extra layer of a bra.

The first sign that Tom notices her reaction to him is the change in his magic. The soothing presence abruptly spikes, frantically starting to move over her body. The second sign is the tightening of his hand on her knee. His fingers slide infinitesimally higher on her inner thigh, barely enough to notice.

But she does. Notice, that is.

The third sign is the purring. Thankfully, she's been doing some research over the holiday (come on, she's Hermione Granger. Of course, she's been researching), or this part would've stumped her. She had Draco send her every book in the Manor's library on Veelas, and she's been reading nonstop. A lot of the books mentioned purring. The Veela will purr in multiple situations: contentment, when comforting his/her mate, and…

… arousal.

All of the signs point to this situation being arousal.

Oh Merlin.

"Hermione," he murmurs.

"Oh," she gasps as she feels him move his head into the crook of her neck. He starts to nuzzle there and she relaxes at the feeling. Then, his lips touch her skin. An unbidden moan escapes her throat and the sound encourages him on. He shifts his body and leans further into her, beginning to suck and lick along her neck. She starts to moan with fervor now, unable to hold the noises back. He groans and his grip on her leg tightens and moves further up her thigh, pulling her leg over his own.

"You're so beautiful. So perfect. Mine, all mine," he pants against the sensitive skin of her neck.

She grabs ahold of his bicep to center herself as he drifts down to start raining kisses along her collarbone. She squeaks as he suddenly sits back and pulls her to straddle him. She steadies herself with her hands on his shoulders as he moves over to the other side of her neck, the availability granted with this new position.

She moves her hands up, running them through his soft hair—oh, I've always wanted to know what his hair feels like. She tightens her fists, tugging on the strands. He moans and pulls her into his chest, leaving no space between them. She gasps as her core lands directly on top of his hard cock.

And boy is it hard.

She starts to squirm over him, unconsciously trying to relieve some of the tension in her body. His head falls back as she grinds over his hard length. Encouraged by his reaction, she takes advantage of his position and leans forward to steal her own kisses along the thick column of his throat. He pulls her tighter against him, heavy pants escaping his mouth.

"Sweet, so sweet. I've waited for you for so long."

He moves his hands up her body. Up her thighs, over her barely covered ass, curving passed her hips and waist, and stopping to palm her breasts and tweak at her hard nipples. She jerks back at the unexpected feeling, and he follows after her. He cups her face and slams his lips onto hers. She gasps and he slips his tongue into her open mouth, teasing and tasting her. Fireworks go off around them. This just feels so right. This was what was missing with Viktor. It was Tom.

As they kiss, he moves his hands back to her hips and pulls them down as he tilts his own up. They both moan as they meet. His grip moves to her ass and he starts to grind her against his cock in earnest.

Overwhelmed and needing air, Hermione rips her lips away from Tom's and sucks in a deep breath. Undeterred, he goes back to leaving openmouthed kisses on her neck. She runs her hands over every inch of him that she can reach. They're so close and yet still not close enough. He tilts her back as his tongue inches toward her cleavage and she gasps at the new angle. Every thrust of his hips sends a shockwave of pleasure through her body.

Heat gathers low in her stomach and builds and builds and builds. "Come on, Hermione. Come for me." His words push her over the edge, and she moans out his name as he helps her ride out her climax. Her body starts to relax as the feeling drifts away, but Tom starts moving faster. More erratic. Little aftershocks zap through her with every movement until suddenly he pulls her down hard onto his cock and he stills, head thrown back and "mine, mine, mine" repeating in his deep rasp.

She stares in amazement as pure ecstasy flashes across his face. Slowly, his grip on her loosens and he opens his eyes. Her stomach clenches as his mouth stretches into a wide, content smile. He's so beautiful. He pulls her to him, lazily kissing her. After a minute, he moves back.

"That wasn't my intention when I brought you in here."

"I know."

He strokes his thumb along her cheek then holds her waist as he sits up. He lifts her to stand with him.

"I'm going to clean up and change."

She blushes as she thinks about what they just did and why he needs to get clean. "Okay," she says bashfully.

He kisses her on the cheek, then walks over and opens a door to what she assumes is his closet. She hears him rustling around for a minute, and then he walks back out with a pile of clothes in his arms. He walks over to her and holds a black and green bundle out toward her.

"I thought you might want to change into something more comfortable," he says in answer to her questioning look.

"Oh." Her eyes widen in surprise at his thoughtfulness. "Thank you," she says as she grabs the clothes from him.

"I'll be right back."

She waits until the bathroom door closes behind him before he bends down to pull off her heels, rubbing at her sore soles. Then she reaches for the hem of her dress, makes sure the bathroom door is firmly shut, then pulls it up and over her head. She reaches first for the pants he gave her, seeing a pair of black cotton pajama pants. She pulls them up her legs, rolling them at the top a few times so they won't fall down. Then, she grabs the shirt. She lets out a laugh as she sees it's an old Slytherin quidditch jersey. Of course he would take this opportunity to get her into something Slytherin.

She looks up at the sound of the door opening and gapes as Tom walks out wearing lounge clothes. She's never seen him in anything less than jeans.

His gaze is also traveling over her clothes, but his eyes flash with a renewed heat. When he reaches her, he grabs onto her hips and smirks. "I knew you should've been in Slytherin."

She guffaws and slaps him on his chest as he laughs. He leads her back over to the couch and they settle down on it, sitting close together this time. As the party continues on downstairs, they sit with each other and just talk. They discuss how Hermione spent her holiday with her parents and the things she got for Christmas. They talk books and argue over what they think the next Triwizard Tournament competition will be. They just enjoy each other's presence.

After a couple of hours, Hermione starts to yawn every few minutes.

"That's it. I think it's time to call it a night."

She yawns again. "I think you might be right."

Tom stands and turns around to grab her hand and help her up, keeping ahold of her even once she's standing. Once she's up, they both start to move—

—in opposite directions. Tom is headed further into the room while Hermione is turned toward the door to the hallway. They both turn back to the other when they feel resistance where they're connected, confusion on both their faces.

"Aren't you com—"

"I'm just going to—"

They both stop, waiting for the other to continue.

Hermione speaks first, "I'm going to head back to my room. Pansy and Daphne are probably waiting up for me."

"Oh." An unknown expression flashes across his face before it turns neutral again. That can't be disappointment? Right? "Of course. I'll walk you to your door."

They leave the room and walk the few steps to her quarters that are right next to his. As they stop at her door, Tom turns around to face her.

"I'm sorry again for upsetting you. I'm glad that we're okay now."

She smiles up at him. "I am, too. Have a good night. I'll see you in the morning."

He glances down at her lips, and she closes her eyes, ready for him to kiss her good night. But instead of pressure on her lips, she feels it on her forehead. She opens her eyes, brows furrowing in confusion. He pulls back from her, squeezes her hand, and says, "Good night, Hermione," before walking away from her and back to his own room.

She waits until his door shuts before opening her own, she walks in and closes it behind her. She slumps back against it, head thumping on the hard wood. As she breathes out a heavy sigh, she squints her eyes as the lights suddenly blaze on. Once her eyes adjust to the light, she sees Pansy and Daphne standing across the room from her, hands on their hips and stern expressions on their faces.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, missy."