Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

Spells Cast Round the World

Tonight, Tom would push his magic further than he ever had. His followers had traveled by muggle means to their designated locations and were currently awaiting his instructions.

When their job was finished, he would apparate them all back to London. He wasn't quite ready to test the efficacy of the dark mark, and he'd thus far failed in his attempts to teach them cross-continental apparation.

They simply weren't yet up to his standards magically.

Avery was in Bangladesh.

Rosier and Dolohov were in Paris.

Lestrange was in Sydney.

MacNair was in Dubai.

Nott was in HongKong.

Malfoy was in Sofia.

Rookwood and Mulciber were in New York City.

Rowle and Yaxley would take on London and Edinburgh.

Tom had practiced his long range apparation for months now. He was skilled, but he'd never apparated so much and so far in one night, and to be carrying others with him...

He would truly find the limits of his power in just a few short hours.

He'd done everything he could do to prepare. He didn't want to be too magically drained and exhausted to tend to Hermione at Ostara.

He had things to discuss with his little siren.

But for now, his focus lay on his plans.

After tonight, the political climate in Britain would shift. Tuft would be questioned, and it would only add to the unrest in Britain caused by Hermione's articles.

Tom would hold a rally in London the following week.

Then, Tuft was as good as dead.

One move at a time, Tom carefully plotted his strategy, as if he were hovering above a chessboard.

His black chess pieces moved ever closer, circling around the white Queen, their perimeter tightening steadily.

Hermione was his center of gravity, and he intended to place them in a position of irrefutable political power... together.

He'd almost forgotten his horcruxes. Though he still desired to locate Slytherin's locket, Tom's central focus had become Hermione...

... and the Minister for Magic position.

The longer he went without her, the more antsy he became.

He was no longer a sole entity, and he couldn't bear being severed from her. As the potion had confirmed, they were two halves of one whole.

Tom was beginning to realize that his desire for her had little to do with the blue potion that sat on his mantle and the amplified power that their union would bring.

He needed her.

He needed her mind. Her participation and partnership. Her body. Her weaknesses. Her tears.

He needed her glances and her fingertips on his jaw. Her moans, which he never grew complacent to, and her nails digging into his back. He needed her unruly hair in his grip and he needed to watch her bite her lip as he whispered in her ear.

He needed to debate her. To argue, to challenge her. To see her pretty face grow hot with indignation when she realized he was right, again. To watch her bury her nose once again in her book, seeking where she went wrong in her theorizing.

He needed her soft words, coaxing out his confessions as if she were a priest. He needed to give it all, to hear her absolve him of his sins against her.