You had always been curious. Of his intellect, his charm; the way his spoke, and the way he observed things around him. Even during your first year together - when you entered the Great Hall for the first time and were completely in awe - he just seemed to calm. He was a calm and quiet observer, but in a way that reminded you of a predator crouched in the bushes, waiting to pounce. He watched and he listened, and he had the most perfect manners. Something about him just didn't seem right.

You were a Hufflepuff, and you were generally kind and accepting, so over the years you'd strived to learn more about the strange boy called Tom Riddle that smiled so politely and watched so carefully. He had been sorted into Slytherin, but this didn't prevent you from seeing him in classes or in the halls, or bumping into him in the library and eating near him in the Great Hall. Over the past 6 years, you'd spoken to him a grand total of 3 times - once when you'd been grouped together in Herbology, once when you couldn't reach a book on the top shelf in the library so he'd grabbed it for you, and the conversation you were currently having with him right now. This conversation was definitely the longest you'd had with him, but unfortunately it wasn't a pleasant one.

Tom Riddle had just caught you following him to the Room of Requirement.

You watched him round the corner of the Charms hallway. Pausing for a few moments to steady your breathing, you decided it was clear and you crept slowly after him. You'd noticed him strolling the halls after hours a few weeks ago, and you couldn't help your curiosity. What on earth could he be up too?

You peeked around the corner to see if he was already near the end of the corridor, but you couldn't see him. There was minimal light in the hallways at this time of night, so you were just about to take another cautious step forward to get a better view when you heard someone behind you clear their throat.

And even though you'd only spoken to him those few times, you knew exactly who it was.

You turned to look at Tom Riddle, quickly fixing an innocent expression on your face. You smiled warmly, "Hello Tom!"

You were lucky he couldn't hear your heart pounding against your chest.

He neither smiled nor responded, he just studied you. After a lengthy pause, he finally returned a small smile that made you shudder. You'd seen Tom Riddle smile before. It was a charming smile, one that both the girls and staff at Hogwarts loved. The smile Tom fixed you with right now however didn't seem to travel up to his eyes. The way his lips were shaped looked unnatural, and you found yourself hoping that he'd stop smirking like that and go back to observing you emotionlessly. You didn't have to hope for long. The smile lasted a few seconds, before it vanished, and Tom spoke.

"Is there a reason you are following me after hours, or are you just passing time?" There was a sharp element to the way he spoke that you'd never heard before. You felt the urge to reach up and press a hand to your cheek, feeling that his words would have left a cut there.

"Following you?" you replied, and you were proud that your voice didn't shake, "Why would I be following you?"

The unsettling smile was back as Tom's eyes pierced yours, "That's the same question I've been asking myself the past few weeks that you've been trailing me." He tapered off, looking curious. His eyes moved from your face and down across your body, like he was really taking you in fully for the first time. You froze and held your breath nervously.

He'd known you'd been following him?

He took a step forward slowly, and your eyes widened as he spoke softly, "You know, as Head Boy, I really should turn you in. You shouldn't be out of bed. Unfortunately," now he seemed to almost be talking to himself as he whispered, "I'd then also have to admit I was out of bed, and that just wouldn't do…"

You frowned, suddenly feeling confident now that he'd discovered you. "And what exactly are you doing out of bed?" As the words left your lips, you watched his eyes flicker angrily, a shade of crimson masking the dark green underneath.

He smiled again, and the mixture of both the smile and the red in his eyes made you shudder visibly. This only made him smile broader, "I'm doing some research."

You were taken aback. "On?" You inquired.

He seemed to have made up his mind about something, because Riddle nodded before turning his body back down the corridor. "I'll show you."

He began to walk, and overcome with curiosity and suspicion, you chased after him. You new exactly where you were heading, and weren't shocked when Tom stopped suddenly in front of the empty wall you new to be the entrance to the Room of Requirement.

You'd taken an interest in the room after you'd seen 3 of Tom's friends disappear in there 2 years earlier. You'd never known there was a room there, so you'd been shocked when the door vanished shortly after they'd entered. After that, you'd observed Tom himself, as well as several more of his friends from Slytherin House, enter and leave from there. It had always been late at night, or during the holidays, that you'd noticed it too. Not once had you been able to follow any of them in, and your curiosity had been driving you mad.

Tom began to pace, and, for the first time, you watched up close as the doorway appeared in the wall. You cautiously kept an eye on Tom as he stepped in front of you and opened the door. He held the door wide for you - perfect manners, as always - and you took a deep breath before stepping inside.

The room was large and open, and so tall you could not see the ceiling. Every wall was covered in a dark green silk that matched the dark Slytherin green perfectly. One of the first things you noticed was the large embroidered snake on the back wall, slowly moving back and forth like it was trying to slither up the wall and into the shadows above. You also noticed the odd decor - several skulls sat on shelves and books with the most strange titles. Without a doubt, you'd just entered somewhere that was inherently dark and sinister.

You heard the door shut, and you sensed Tom standing behind you - his eyes watching you. You steadied yourself before asking again, "Researching what?"

You heard him scoff, and then he stepped into your peripheral vision, "You really couldn't guess?"

You shook your head, not as an answer but in an attempt to clear your thoughts. So you'd been right, Tom Riddle really wasn't what he seemed. He moved past you and out into the open space. You thought of turning around and fleeing, but somehow you knew that would be futile. Tom had brought you in here, and you had a feeling you weren't leaving unless it was on his terms.

You scanned the room again. Tom had moved towards a large table in the back corner, on which several books and papers were strewn. You also noticed, hanging on the exposed stone above the table, several chains and restraints that didn't look unused. As you thought this, you glanced down at the floor of the large room to have your fears confirmed - a series of bolts made a small circle in the center of the room, and you could see traces of dark dried blood, and black burn marks from ricashaying curses and hexes.

Your mind raced. You internally kicked yourself for being so curious. How the hell were you going to get out of this one? You studied Tom as he leaned over a book on the table, turning the pages delicately between his long pale fingers. What was he doing? Looking for some evil curse to try on you? The anticipation killing you - and with nothing else to lose, it seemed - you followed Tom over to the table, and glanced down at the book he was scanning.

You heard Tom chuckle beside you as he turned the page, "Curious, are you?"

It was as he said this that you suddenly had an idea, and you responded cockily, "Well maybe I am." You reached across his body and turned the book towards yourself, scanning the image of a man floating upside down. It was illustrating something about the blood flow, and highlighting spots on the body that would be most receptive to different jinx's in this position. You generally were enthralled by the diagram, and you scanned the text before your eyes landed on a ruin you didn't understand.

"What's this?" You pointed to the ruin, and you heard him snigger again.

"That," he whispered, and he reached out and placed his hand over yours, directing your finger to a place on the man's body in the diagram, "Is the place most susceptible to pain in this diagram."

"Well that's just the navel?" That didn't seem right to you.

Tom paused, before correcting you, "No, that's not the navel."

You realized where he was pointing your finger suddenly, and you pulled your hand away. This time Tom laughed aloud, and you actually felt yourself smirk too as warmth crept into your cheeks.

"Yah yah, okay, very funny. Maybe I thought that was self explanatory. I don't think I need a diagram to know that's the most sensitive area on a man." You shook your head, and you could see Tom eyeing you curiously out of the corner of your eye. You decided to ask another question to keep him talking, "Wait, so where would it be on a woman?"

He paused again, turning towards you. He looked confused, and you wondered if your plan was working. You turned your body towards him too, making sure to look genuinely interested as you awaited his answer.

"It would be the same," he murmured softly, his green eyes studying your face closely.

You frowned, and shook your head slightly, which of course Tom noticed - he didn't miss anything. "You disagree," there was a laughter in his voice, and his eyes glinted dangerously as he continued to curiously watch your expression.

You noticed the evil glint in his eyes a little too late, "Yes - well no. I mean, potentially. Maybe." You grimaced a little, and Tom's smile grew. He stepped towards you.

"Why?" He questioned.

"Hmmm?" Your mind had gone fuzzy at his now close proximity, and you glanced down at your hands as you rung them together.

"Why do you disagree? I'd love to hear your opinion," Tom reached out and gently tilted your head up with his index finger. He kept his hand there, holding your gaze.

You felt your breath hitch as you slowly began to answer his question, "I - I don't know. I guess I was just comparing the sensitivity of men and women in that area. It, it isn't quite the same."

"Correct," Tom encouraged.

You took a step back to clear your head, and Tom let his hand drop as he watched you think, "Well then, wouldn't that imply that men would be more susceptible to pain than women? If it's the same area, but one is inherently more sensitive and fragile?"

Tom smiled wide and his eyes shone, "Potentially." He turned back to the book and flipped through a few more pages. "But I don't think you're thinking about it exactly right."

You frowned again, "Well then what -"

You were interrupted suddenly by Tom shutting the book with a snap. He set it down on the table, and pushed the other books and papers aside carefully to make space on the wood. He turned back to you, "This might be easier if we had some props."

He grabbed you by the waist and set you down on the table roughly. Tom was now standing in between your legs. His height meant that you were eye level with his chest, and both his hands were grasping the table on either side of you, his arms blocking you in. He looked down at you, and you felt your body visibly shudder again under his gaze.

"Now," he breathed, "you're right in principle. Men are more susceptible to pain in this region." As he spoke, his left hand left the table and moved down towards his belt buckle. You watched, mouth slightly agape, as he carefully undid his belt, pulling it slowly away from his waist, setting it on the table next to you. He continued to unbutton his pants as you watched, mesmerized, and he slipped his right hand underneath the black fabric easily as he talked. "It doesn't take much to illicit a response of some kind. Blood flow is near immediate on impact. The strength of any sort of touch or curse does not need to be strong."

Tom's eyes never left yours, and you listened to him speak calmly as your eyes flitted between his and the movement of his hand in his pants. You felt your mouth water suddenly, and you quickly remembered to shut it.

He smiled kindly, as if this sort of lesson was completely normal, "However," his hand stopped moving suddenly, "women are slightly different." You watched as he removed his hand, leaving his loose pants to hang low on his waist. You felt his fingers graze gently over your bare thigh, and travel slowly up your skirt. You watched his hand disappear underneath the gray fabric of your uniform, and your wide eyes shot up to his. He watched you casually, leaning against his other hand, and he continued to speak, "Just striking or hexing a woman here wouldn't have an optimal effect. Sure, it would hurt, but you can do so much better than that. A man is sensitive from the start, but women...you need to increase their sensitivity slowly." His fingers drew circles up your inner thigh as he finished speaking. You felt goosebumps form everywhere he touched, and you shivered, your eyes feeling heavy, as you focused on the warmth in his hand.

Then you cried out, as his nails suddenly dug into your thigh.

Tom laughed, pulling his hand away and dragging his nails down your bare skin, leaving red scratch marks behind. Then he leaned in and whispered, "See? It works so much better this way."

His hand left you, and he leaned back slightly, eyeing your expression. You found your voice slowly, "This seems to, umm, apply more to arousal then it... does to pain." You tilted your head sideways slightly, questioning.

He smirked, "Are you aroused then?"

You raised an eyebrow, feeling cocky you replied, "Potentially. But you definitely are." You nodded towards the bulge in his pants that was twitching against the fabric, and you smiled confidently.

His eyes traveled down his body, and you saw his jaw clench. When his eyes found yours again you could visibly see the lust there, and you saw his knuckles turn white as they clenched either side of the table next to you.

And, before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and whispered, "Show me more?"

Tom grinned, "As you wish."

His hands returned to your skin immediately - he didn't need to be told twice. His touch was gentle again, and his hands soothed the red marks on your thighs he'd left there just moments before. His hands roamed your exposed skin confidently, and his eyes never left yours. You tried to hold eye contact too, but the higher his hands went, and the more he teased your skin, the harder it became to resist pinching your eyes shut and groaning aloud.

It occured to you that he was probably taking note of where he touched and the effect it had on you, but you suddenly didn't care. If this was what it meant to be experimented on by Tom Riddle then you were more than fine with it. It was as you thought this that you surrendered. Just as his hands neared the bottom fabric of your underwear you let out a breathy moan.

You moved to squeeze your thighs together - desperate for some kind of friction as he ran the tips of his fingers over the upper most part of your thighs. Tom tutted you softly, and you felt his nails slowly begin to dig into the soft flesh of you skin for the second time. You winced, screwing your eyes shut.

He leaned forward abruptly, and his warm breath sent shivers down your spine as he spoke directly into your ear, "Please don't make me restrain you. I will if necessary, but I'd much rather watch you squirm freely."

Your eyes flew open and you nodded quickly, remembering the shackles mounted on the wall just behind you. Not that he'd need them - he had a wand - but the very real image in your mind of the heavy metal was enough to still you as Tom moved again.

And suddenly his hot breath was somewhere else entirely. Your nails dug into the wood of the table behind you as you watched Tom crouch down between your legs. His hands moved back up your thighs softly, and he pushed the fabric of your skirt upward. You could now see the white lace of your underwear from where you sat - leaned back slightly against your now shaking arms. Tom left one hand against your lower stomach, holding the gray fabric of your skirt roughly in his fist, and let his index finger gently touch the growing dampness near your entrance. Your arms weren't going to be holding you upright for much longer.

"Do you always choose such alluring undergarments?" Tom smirked, glancing up at you. He was teasing you, and you felt your cheeks go red instantly. Most of the blood was still heading south though, and you whimpered as Tom pulled the lace aside and exposed you to the cool air of the room.

"Not usually, no," you gasped as he moved his face closer, the warmth of his breath cutting through the cold air. You opened your legs wider, desperately trying to stay still as you watched him inch closer to where you needed him most.

"No?" He hummed softly. He was close enough now that you could feel the vibrations through the air. "Well I like them."

And with that he surged forward, biting the white fabric of your underwear harshly. He'd caught some of your skin - something you were sure he'd intended - and you cried out from the pain only to have it quickly turn into a desperate moan. His tongue was there, soothing the bitten area and every part around it. You felt your back hit the wood of the table as your arms gave out. You legs instinctively opened wider, encouraged roughly by Toms hands digging into your thighs as he worked. Your eyes drifted shut, and one of your hands released the wood of the table you'd desperately been holding on too so it could tangle itself in the dark locks of Toms hair.

He looked up at you darkly, slowing the movements of his mouth against the most sensitive area of your body. You couldn't look away from the red glint in his eye as he sucked and licked slowly. He moved one of his hands away from your thigh, and reached towards the hand you had tangled in his hair. He grabbed your wrist roughly, pulling it away from his head and suddenly slamming it on to the table next to you. You gasped as he pulled his mouth away from your skin, and he breathed, "What did I tell you about moving?"

Your eyes widened as Tom stood up slowly. He guided the wrist he had tightly in his grasp up above your head to join your other hand. As he grabbed them both and clasped them together in his strong grip, you watched his other hand disappear into the fabric of his pants for the second time. Tom now loomed over you, using his weight to hold down your arms above your head. If you had been paying attention, you would have noticed that the weight of him against your wrists actually twinged quite a bit, but instead you were focused on the way Toms hand looked as he stroked himself underneath his school trousers.

"Are you curious about something else now?" Tom laughed down at you as he caught you staring. Your eyes moved up his body slowly to meet his gaze. You smiled confidently and nodded, shifting your hips slightly to show your impatiens.

Tom stilled his hand and let his gaze go dark again. "Still," he ordered, as he squeezed your wrists tightly before letting them go. You didn't move an inch as he stood upright, keeping his observant gaze on you the whole time. You saw him stroke himself one more time before removing his hand again and stepping forward, in between your legs. His hands found your waist, and the rough fabric of his black pants pushed against your exposed and wet vagina. The cold metal of the open zipper actually sent shivers through your core, and you flinched only to feel his nails dig into your waist abruptly. Right. You couldn't move.

He began to grind against you, achingly slow, as he studied your face. You could feel the whole length and girth of him twitching through the rough fabric as he moved against you, and you arched your back slightly with frustration. You needed to see...to feel…

"Why so curious?" There was a smirk fixed on his face as he enjoyed teasing you. He used his hold on your waist to guide you against him as he moved against you.

A moan escaped from your lips as you opened your mouth to answer him. He raised an eyebrow expectantly, and you blushed, "Need…"

You tappered off, embarrassed, and you groaned again as he pushed particularly hard against you. The friction of his pants and the agonizing way his length felt twitching through the fabric was driving you crazy. You whimpered.

"Need what?" He asked firmly, holding your gaze. Your cheeks were permanently red now, and your eyes fluttered shut as he continued the slow thrusting and grinding of his hips against yours.

"Please?" You breathed desperately, and you heard him chuckle.

Your eyes still shut, you felt Tom lean forward and whisper harshly against your ear, "But you haven't told me what you need yet."

He punctuated his statement with another powerful movement of his hips against you. You swore as you fought his tight hold on your hips, trying to grind up into him faster. His nails forcibly dug into your skin as he held you down.

"Don't," Tom warned. Your eyes drifted open again, and you felt hazy and fevered. Tom met your gaze intently as he opened his mouth to speak again, "Now tell me what you need so badly."

"You," you hummed, blinking slowly and trying to steady your breathing. It was taking all of your self control to keep your hands placed above your head where Tom had left them. "Need you. Please Tom."

"Need me to what?" He spoke so clearly and he sounded so calm. How was he not an utter mess like you? You could feel his arousal, and yet he seemed so controlled.

Your confusion was interrupted suddenly as Tom became impatient. One of his hands left your waist, digging into your skin with his nails and sliding up under your shirt, leaving the same red scratch marks he'd left all over your thighs across your now exposed stomach. "Answer me," he ordered.

You gasped loudly and quickly whimpered, "Fuck Tom, please. Please fuck me."

He grinned, "That's all you needed to say."

His hands left you quickly, and your eyes widened as you watched him drop his pants and underwear to around his thighs. His cock sprung free, and you felt it glide gently against your soaked entrance. You groaned, letting your nails dig into the surface of the table again as you steadied yourself.

One of Toms hands was back against your waist, holding you still as his other hand stroked himself where you could now see. You were mesmerized by the sight. Every inch of him was pale, toned, smooth. You needed more.

As if reading your mind, Tom left his cock twitching against your lower stomach and quickly reached up to unbutton his white shirt. In seconds it lay open against his chest, and he gazed down at you cockily, eyeing your expression.

"Don't look so smug," You groaned. Tom raised an eyebrow, smirking at your comment as his hands repositioned themselves against your waist and around his hard cock.

Holding your gaze, his challenging expression unchanging, you felt Tom line himself up with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, and your mouth dropped open at the sudden fullness. It was only as he bottomed out that he spoke again, his eyebrow still cocked and eyes alive and curious, "Should I not be smug?"

His other hand moved up under your shirt again, and dug into the skin there, pinning you to the table under you. There was a silence only broken by both of your heavy breathing as Tom looked down at you, awaiting an answer. You opened your mouth, distracted by the throbbing fullness you now felt and completely unsure of what you were going to say. You barely got an 'ummm' out however when you felt Toms finger dig harder into your skin, and he suddenly pulled out completely and slammed back into your core.

"Shit!" You moaned loudly as your head slammed back against the table. Tom pulled out again, and again, and again. Slowly and rhythmically pounding into you. Whimpers fell from your lips as your barely closed eyes glazed over and refocused on the man above you, fucking you into the hardwood of the table.

"Tell me not to be smug, and I'll listen." Tom taunted as he moved, watching with satisfaction as your back arched under him. He pulled himself forward, changing the angle so he could move deeper while whispering in your ear, "Better still, tell me how good it feels when I'm fucking you. Maybe I'll let you cum if you say it enough."

Every swear you knew seemed to be tumbling from your lips as Tom moved in and out of you. You could feel your muscles clench and unclench around him, and, for the first time, you watched Tom loose a little bit of his composure.

His eyes screwed shut briefly as he moaned quietly, sliding his hands over your thighs, waist, stomach, chest. One hand moved up and latched onto your hair, pulling briefly before cupping your face and pushing a finger against your lips. His eyes flew open as you parted your lips and let his fingers enter your mouth. You stared at him firmly, moaning around his fingers and suckings sharply. Tom swore under his breath, and you smiled around his fingers with satisfaction as you felt his hips move faster. He noticed your now smug expression, and he glowered, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a pop. He leaned forward and kissed you roughly, his hands returning to your upper thighs to dig into the soft skin there.

You gasped against his lips as he used his nails to pierce your skin, all the while maintaining a deep and steady rhythm with his hips. The mixture of the two sensations went straight to your head, and you began to feel a powerful tingling sensation building in your core.

You clenched around him harder, and Tom swore, looking down at you through clouded green eyes. "You're close," he murmured. It wasn't a question, he knew, and he lifted himself up and grabbed your hips in his tight grasp. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on thrusting faster, and his eyes closed shut only to fly open moments later as he watched you moan his name loudly as you reached your climax.

Your senses seemed to be on fire as your rode out your high. Tom kept moving, he didn't stop, as every muscle in you clenched and pushed. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth parted in a silent moan, and the world went quiet for a moment, as your senses were overloaded with pleasure.

"Tom," you breathed. The first word to leave your lips as you floated down from your orgasm. He'd slowed down his movements, but not by much. The stimulation seemed to lengthen the floating sensation you felt in this state. Your eyes were still shut delicately as you panted heavily, and then you heard a sudden popping sound that made your eyes fly open.

All 6 buttons of your shirt popped off as Tom ripped it open. He groaned low in his throat as he exposed your chest. You suddenly realized that he must be close, and his brow was still furrowed. Had he been staving off his orgasm to make you come? You whimpered at the thought, and looked up at him desperately. You still felt highly sensitive and aroused, and his pace was quickening again.

"Fuck," Tom Riddle never swore, but just then it seemed appropriate as he pulled out of you and wrapped the hand that wasn't supporting him around his cock. You watched as he stroked himself twice before he came, shooting cum across the chest he'd just exposed. His eyes had fluttered shut and his head was bowed as he came. You moaned, letting your head rest against the table as you were marked by him.

There was several minutes of panting as you both catched your breath. You let your eyes shut again as you were finally able to relax the muscles of your body. You began to acknowledge the aches in your wrists and back, the sting of the scratch marks on your thighs, hips, and chest. You were going to be sore for weeks.

You felt yourself being cleaned, and you opened your eyes to see Tom, his pants already pulled up and fixed back around his waist, using his wand to quickly clean off your chest.

"Can I move?" You raised an eyebrow at him challengingly, and he smirked.

He coaxed a finger, signalling you could sit up as he walked away. He settled himself into an armchair with his book, and you watched as he opened it and began to read.

He spoke while turning a page, "Feel free to grab a book to read and come join me, or you can take your leave now if you wish."

You were momentarily confused, but then he glanced up at you and continued, "I'm always in here, alone, most nights. If you ever have any questions about anything regarding the dark arts then please let me know. After all," Tom paused to smirk at you, "I don't think we should ever leave you curious for long."

You silently agreed.