He liked power.
That's why he came back – every night. He came back for the power.
Hermione knew that. She wasn't stupid. It was the power he had over her that made him want her - nothing more.
She wasn't stupid.
If only she had never let him in. Never let him touch her that very first time. She could have resisted.
Hermione gripped the edge of the vanity, staring into the dusty looking glass, unable to make out her true reflection.
But that wasn't it – that wasn't the part that crept inside of her like scorpions crawling through her veins, poisoning her. No. If that was all it was, Hermione could live with it. It was this that made her hate herself.
She liked his power.
"The Dark Lord has arrived," she heard young Lucius Malfoy's cold voice say beyond her chamber doors. She laughed quietly – an empty laugh. Lucius Malfoy made his son look like a sweet, misunderstood kid.
Don't come in here. Come in here. Please.
The door squealed open, making Hermione's stomach wrench. Tom Riddle stood rigid in the doorway, his newly red eyes glinting in the light. Everything else about him was still attractive, handsome. His chiseled chin, pale skin, thin pink lips.
Riddle shut the door.
Hermione's face flushed.
"Good evening, Miss Granger."
"Hey."
"Did you have a pleasant afternoon?" His elegant fingers caressed the midnight black comforter on the bed. The rustling fabric made her shiver.
"It was a blast." She rolled her eyes.
"You have a strange way of speaking." Slowly, he loosened the tie around his neck. Like a snake it slithered away from his collar, leaving his bruised neck exposed.
Bruises like grotesque yellow flowers.
"Someone finally get around to punching you in the throat?" she joked. A deflecting technique she learned from Ron never worked for long. Not with Tom Riddle.
"Magic comes at a price, my dear." He slipped out of his shirt, folding it neatly like he had all the time in the world.
He thinks he does.
Maybe he does.
"I'm sleeping in here tonight," he said coldly, paused, then glanced at Hermione like he was waiting for a response. "You may stay if you like."
What was she supposed to say to that? Yes. No. Where else would she go?
She simply nodded then returned to examining the mirror dust. A grey film. Like dementor's mist.
"Miss Granger, I require the book in front of you."
A leather spell book rested on the vanity, so old its skin felt soft, loose, like an old woman's. Hermione's heart beat quickened as she neared Riddle, the book stretched out to him. Their fingers touched, sparking. She swallowed hard.
"Very good, dear."
Hermione was a member of Ridddle's court for the good of everyone. A trip to the past meant to save lost friends. But what she did with Riddle – that was her own doing.
A personal sin.
"I'm going to take a shower," she mumbled.
"What was that?" asked Riddle, looking up from his book.
"I'm going to take a shower."
"Very well, then. You don't need my permission."
"I wasn't asking for permission."
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze frozen, dead. In the past few months, she had come to know that look well. The conversation was over.
Without another word, Hermione walked the icy black wood floor into the bathroom. She slipped out of her clothes and left them in a messy pile near the door then turned on the hot water, letting it splash over her fingers until it grew hot enough to steam in the cold air.
Stretching, she stepped into the water, loving the warmth as it poured through her curls, down her neck and back. The scent of the rose shampoo she used filled the foggy space – an aroma pushing out the stress and the fear that was just part of her every day life.
Footsteps on the floor.
Brown eyes meeting red ones.
Hermione turned quickly, attempting to cover herself.
"False modesty does not suit you," said Riddle as he unbuckled his pants. Most days he still wore muggle clothes. His work at Borgin and Burkes sent him all through the nearby towns, requiring him to remain inconspicuous. But Hermione never saw the Tom Riddle he pretended to be out there. She only saw the Dark Lord he was in here.
Hermione opened her mouth to deliver a comeback but the words tangled in her throat. Riddle was right. She was nothing he had not seen before.
"What are you doing?" she asked instead.
"What does it look like?" Riddle stepped in the shower, his feet splashing in the small puddle of water gathering in the basin.
He ran his fingers over her shoulder and down her back. Hermione's eyes shut, trying to block out his touch. Instead, she just blocked everything else out.
"How is your research coming along, Miss Granger?"
She sighed. "It would come along faster if I could visit one of the wizarding libraries myself."
Riddle's arms constricted around Hermione's bare waist, his lips sucking on her neck. She trembled.
"You may go, but you must bring Bellatrix."
Hermione's teeth gritted together. "Anyone but her. She hates me."
Riddle turned Hermione around and shoved her against the cold tile wall, pressing his body against hers. Rage made him pulse with power. "If you would like to go - you will take Bellatrix. She is my most trusted servant."
"Only because she's in love with you," mumbled Hermione. Riddle grabbed her face, nails digging into her cheeks.
"Yet I am here with you – and only you. Explain that?"
As Riddle ran his hand from her neck to her navel, making her head spin, Hermione replied, "You like that I challenge you, that I fight back," she whispered in his ear, "That I hate you."
"That's our little secret, isn't it, Miss Granger? Our hate."
Riddle's lips captured Hermione's. He bit down hard, making her wince. She gripped his hair, pulling violently. He lifted her legs around his bony waist, the water making his pale skin glisten. He shoved her painfully against the wall. She let out a small scream and he covered her mouth.
"You know I prefer you silent." Like a kind of magic, his icy voice lit her on fire.
Hermione bit the inside of his hand and he tugged away. "You know I don't care what you prefer," she said – but she did care what he liked. And she knew no matter what he said, he preferred her to fight him.
That was his little secret.
Thanks for reading. I've been in a writing frenzy recently. I really wanted to write a Tomione with a dark!Tom. I have a plan for a multi-chap fic with this but I'm not sure...Anyway, please review. I respond to everyone who does. Thanks again!