1)

Rating T

Pairing: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger

A/N: I have a cat named Tom, and sometimes I call him in exactly the way you will read and I don't know, this is ridiculous, like ridiculous, but it has been following me for like a month and I need to, you know- get it out of my system.

A bit of explanation: it's the vampire universe where they need to be invited in before they can enter. (See The Vampire Diaries).

I don't even know if vampires maintain their magic powers, (I spent zero time research on this) but let's pretend they do.

Enjoy.

Summary:

After today, she thinks she will be much more careful about who she invites into her house. Though maybe, not.

.

"Come, come, come, come, cat Tom, come Tommietomcat,"

She is holding the white door half open, her body behind it to shield herself a bit from the awfully cold night, it really is fucking freezing and the only reason she is patiently standing here is because she feels sorry for her cat. The beast is probably snuggling up right now to her hated neighbour Ms. Rigs, who always gives him milk behind her back, even though she keeps saying no, don't do that, cats can get sick, yes I should know, my uncle is a veterinarian.

Traitors, both of them.

"Oh come on, Tom! " she snarls one last time, as a particularly cold gush of air waves in, and the snow that lands on her barefoot melts into freezing water, "it's bloody cold outside, if you don't come, I'm shutting the door"

She spots a movement outside, the barest swish of a branch from her apple tree and so she does the ultimate thing. A sacrifice, you could call it. She also knows Tom is never able to resist it.

She gives up her hiding place behind the door- it was too flimsy to properly shield her from the cold in the first place- and crouches down in the opening, gazing into the dark moon- and starless night.

In a cooing tone also used with babies, she starts "Yes darling Tommie, come, come, yes, Tom, come in, I-"

Her breath gets stuck in her throat and she throws herself out of the way. Her heart is beating in fear, she can hear the thudding noise in her ears, overwhelming her.

Stu-pid, stu-pid, stu-pid

Thu-thunk, thu-thunk, thu-thunk.

In, like inside, her house now stands a man. A man regarding her curiously, with a charming expression, and she is acutely aware of her still crouching position and the way she is looking at him, but she will not be fooled, because really, he is standing in her house, at night.

She looks around for a weapon, but the only possibility is smashing his head in with a chair, because all her knives are in the kitchen and oh, God, he just realised that too, if the grin he has is any indication, she is going to die..

She stands, she pauses, she looks at him. He smiles at her. She frowns an then stupidly-

"Hello"

She winces at herself, and his smile only grows bigger. His teeth are sharp and white enough to gleam.

"Hello Hermione" the stranger replies.

And suddenly, she knows why his wavy black hair, pale skin and dark eyes are so familiar. Harry her mind screams, but no, this is not Harry, this is-

She backs away, to the kitchen, hoping to reach it in time. He just watches amusedly, raising one, dark, perfect brow.

He looks like a gentleman, goddamit.

"You're supposed to be death" she whispers, stops moving, because really, if she is right, it is no use.

He laughs, shocked, approvingly.

"You really are a smart girl" he says, slowly and then, not bothering with normal movement, he is standing right in front of her, just not touching, invading her personal space.

She shrieks, and stumbles away, but he reaches out, fast, prevents her from falling and smashing her head open on the table by wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her in to him. She braces her hands on his chest to prevent her head from smacking it, her feet get caught up in his when she tries to regain her equilibrium, he half turns them around, trying to untangle herself she only manages to get them more caught up, and they fall to the floor.

"Well, I must admit," he muses, "I did not expect you to be beneath me so quickly"

"Oh, get off, Riddle" she snaps, pushing him off her, he does not move- what a surprise- and she is furious, because her head is hurting from the collision with the floor, the break up with Ron still has not healed completely, which has made her feel alone the past time, and now she is in a perfect position with a handsome young man who is BLOODY TOM RIDDLE ALSO KNOWN AS VOLDEMORT OR EVIL, MAD MANIAC AND AS SUCH OFF LIMITS.

Oh, and he is a vampire and STILL ALIVE. (Or technically, undead.) Did she forget to mention that? And, in her house, too, by the way. Can the evening get any better? Keep in mind, her cat is ignoring her too.

"Charming, Hermione, really" the man- who still has not moved an inch and is distractingly close -remarks.

Apparently, yes, the evening can get better, because Mr. Riddle here still can do magic and is currently reading her mind. And her wand is upstairs. Oh God, he just read that too. She is going to die, oh, she is going to die, maybe she can kill herself by smashing her head on the floor repeatedly? Would probably hurt less than what he plans to do-

"Calm down, Granger" he snaps, "I am not going to hurt you."

Suuure , that's what he probably told millions of people now laying in their graves too. Distantly she notices he is saying something, but she is too upset to care, really, she is going to die. Alone. Her cat is ignoring her and he- he- he is kissing her? That feels nice, wait what-

She kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and he teases her with his tongue and pushes her back each time she tries to enter his mouth and one am is braced on the ground, to not put his full weight on her and the other is currently on her breast, and oh that feels good and wait, wait, no, no, No

His pupils are dilated when he stops and sits up after she pushed him away, and it sends a jolt through her, but he does not continue, merely, rakes a hand through his mused up hair, courtesy of her, and gently pulls her to a sitting position as well, their legs still intertwined.

He lays the hand that is not holding her wrist on her knee and says: "I need you to do something for me"

"You want me to help you get rid of your vampirism"

His eyes widen and then he smirks.

"Darling, are you sure you were not in Slytherin? All your indignation about me reading your mind while you were doing the same thing"

"I should have done it in the animal shelter too when that friendly lady adamantly insisted the cat's name was Tom. You had this all planned out, didn't you?"

He shrugs "Not all, no. Some things are quite delightful when done.. impulsively." His gaze goes to her lips and she flushes red.

"Right, uhm, if you want me to share my research -how did you even find out, I am an unspeakable- then that is to not happen again"

He smirks and raises a hand, raking his nail lightly over her neck.

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head, "No, no way, that is not going to happen"

Laughing, he bends forward and then takes on a pleading expression "But sweetheart, I'm hungry."

She barely resists slapping him, but takes comfort in vivid imagination.

His expression turns threatening, deadly. "Oh, I am sure something can be worked out, Hermione"

Suddenly, outside a cat meows.

She makes to stand up, but his grip has turned vicelike around her wrist.

"Hermione," he says, "keep in mind that I have been invited in, and that you are At. My. Mercy. Now, are you ready to make the deal?"

"What do you propose?" she asks, after a long silence only disturbed by meows.

He smirks. "Let's get more comfortable first, shall we? Your kitchen floor is quite cold, and in my experience, there is nothing wrong with, let's say mixing business with pleasure"

He stands up, dusting his jacket off after giving her an obvious look.

She averts her eyes, hoping to seem ashamed while she is thinking -thank God vampires cannot hear your thoughts like in those ridiculous teenager books- she should let him kill her. She should pretend to agree to then floo Harry, or apparate or put wards or whatever, but somehow she knows that is not what she is going to do-

She has spent four years on this research, four years of her life, trying to get permission and each time being sent to a higher up, and a higher up to no avail, and here comes a real life vampire that she can test, and not only that, it is a man that has read her research and has actually understood it, someone she could discuss it with, and she can also research into Voldemort's immortality arrangements, something that had her a little more interested than she should have been.. she remembers her fascination with the horcruxes, and how gruesome she found it at the same time. Like a movie on TV that you don't really want to see, but you also cannot turn away..

"Hermione"

She looks up, and he extends a hand towards her. To help her up, yes, but also to express his confidence in the fact that she will take it, take this, take him and make the deal.

He isn't wrong.

Outside, everything is silent, as a cat named Tom has left and is snuggling up to Ms. Rigs, delicately cleaning his milk stained mouth with his paw.