Author's Notes: This is a Death Eater version to the fairy tale story called "The Twelve Dancing Princesses"


"By the Gods! My feet are killing me!" Benjamin whined, flopping into his own bed, and burying his face into the feathered pillow. "It's been three days! When are we going to leave this place?"

"Yes, why can't we just leave this place, my lord?!" Abraxas inquired. He was lying in his own bed as well, with his arms crossed behind his head, and staring at the high ceiling. "We have already gotten the information that we needed. We already know that the leprechaun can travel back to the future – if that awful song is not proof enough - Then, why are we still here?"

Abraxas turned his head to the man, who occupied the bed just beside his.

"We can't. Not just yet," was Riddle's short response. He was sitting against the headboard, and leafing through a thin book, which awfully looked like a diary.

Abraxas wondered what their leader had written in there. He eyed the diary closely, noticing the small, nearly non-descript letters at the back.

As if feeling his curiosity, Riddle looked up, and Abraxas had to hastily divert his attention elsewhere.

"Why ever not, my lord?" It was Llyod Nott, this time, who asked. He was lounging on the windowsill adjacent to Rosier, whereas Edmund was currently sitting at the foot of his bed; his dark eyes assessing all of them while he listened to the conversation.

"Because there is still something that we needed-"

"I am tired of sneaking into the night, dancing to that awful song, and wearing these goddamn iron boots!" Benjamin bleated all of a sudden. "Why can't we kill the leprechaun and be done with the dancing parties, once and for all!"

"Shut up, Lestrange!" Edmund Rosier ordered and pushed the youngest Knight off the bed.

Benjamin Lestrange fell unto floor with a yell and curse. "What the hell Rosier?!"

"I said shut up!"

"As I was saying, before Benjamin rudely interrupted me," Tom Riddle began, snapping his diary shut to survey his travelling companions. "We can't leave this place yet, not unless we take the object that the Leprechaun is using to travel through time."

"Do you know whatever it is?" Abraxas asked, also sitting up from his bed.

"No, not yet." Tom Riddle shook his head, his curly dark locks falling haphazardly across his forehead. "But we will asked the girl to search for it while the leprechaun is preoccupied with watching us dance to that awful-song of his."

"I don't want to hear that song ever again!" Benjamin moaned.

The others wisely ignored him.

"And do you think the girl will agree to do this?" Clifford Mulciber asked skeptically, who had been standing against the far wall with his arms crossed in front of him. "She made it plenty clear that she doesn't want to do anything with us any longer."

"Yes, I'm certain." Tom Riddle turned his head towards a certain area of the room.

Hermione met Riddle's cobalt-blue eyes.

"Because she will need it more than we do." He said, holding her gaze.

Out of the seven men, it was only Riddle who can see her now, even when it wasn't full moon.

…..

"Not a word of this to anyone, do you hear? If you as much as tell anyone of this, you're dead." Tom Riddle hissed at her in warning.

Hermione nodded, swallowing hard.

With the leprechaun's favorite song throbbing in the background, the Dark Lord gave her the most titillating dance move that she had the misfortune of seeing.

Start twerkin' like Miley
Twerk it like Miley

"Whoever this Miley person is, I'm going to bloody kill him!" Hermione heard Riddle's low growl while he dance to the tune; gyrating his hips, arching his back and then thrusting his hips forward in a suggestive way.

Hermione's mouth went dry as she stared. Mesmerized. She couldn't take her eyes off him. She might even have a nosebleed when she watch those muscles flex beneath his shirt and his tight trousers.

The only thing that stood out was the knee-length iron boots that Riddle was wearing, which must have hurt like hell, and must be heavy as fuck.

Start twerkin' like Miley
Twerk it like Miley

Placing his hands on the arms of the chair before him, Riddle presented his back to her and proceeded to wiggle his tight ass right there and then.

Hermione bit the insides of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Her mind still couldn't wrap around the fact that Tom Riddle, the Darkest Wizard of the century, was 'twerking' (as the leprechaun termed it) right in front of her.

Whoever this Miley person was, Hermione was going to give him a hug for creating such a lewd dance; which she was enjoying at the moment.

She wished she had a camera with her so that she could capture the image of the Dark Lord twerking.

Start twerkin' like Miley
Twerk it like Miley

If being the Dark Lord wasn't Riddle's full-time occupation, he might even start working in the strip club.

A giggle escape from her lips, and Hermione had to cover her mouth at once, when Riddle whirled towards her without warning. His eyes were like burning sapphires. It bore on her in its ice-cold intensity, but the dusting of red in Riddle's cheeks belied the embarrassment that he must be feeling at the moment.

"This is not funny!" Riddle seethed, striding towards her before bringing his face closer to hers.

Hermione stiffen in shock, hastily drawing back a scant inches away.

"Shouldn't you be searching for the object that we are looking for?"

"I already did," She answered, her eyes skittering towards the leprechaun which was dancing at the top of the stage. The music had changed, allowing Riddle the time to move on his own without the influence from the Leprechaun's curse.

"And?"

Hermione's eyes shot back to the man in front of her, meeting those stunning cobalt-blue eyes.

For a while, they stared at each other.

When Hermione didn't answer, Riddle's face darkened.

Fortunately for her, Benjamin arrived before Riddle could do something to her.

"She's here, isn't she?" Benjamin Lestrange asked softly, warily glancing behind him and towards the little, green man, who was busy dancing to that morgana's-damn-awful music.

"Yes, the girl is sitting right there." Riddle responded, his face now schooled into an inscrutable mask.

Benjamin looked towards her, but Hermione knew that he couldn't see her, not unless she unlocked the restraints from her mind.

"Hey, birthday girl."

Hermione's brows rose up, surprised. Even when he probably can't hear her, she blurted: "You remember?"

At the same time, Riddle said, "It's your birthday?"

Hermione turned her attention back to him, and nodded, adapting a blank expression as she met his blue-eyed stare once more.

"Yes, she told me last time." Benjamin divulged.

There was a short pause as Riddle carefully scrutinized her.

"So, you're what? Eighteen now?" He inquired, quirking a brow.

"Yes," came her wary response when she saw an unusual gleam in those icy blue eyes of his.

After hearing her answer, a smile appeared on the Dark Lord's face; dark, predatory and…pure evil.

"That means you're of legal age…"

Hermione's eyes narrowed at him.

"Legal age for what?"

"You'll see," was Riddle's ambiguous and ominous response, before he turned his attention to Benjamin, who had been listening and also keeping an eye on their host.

"Benjamin, call the other men and tell them to come here."

As soon as Hermione heard Riddle's words, she would have bolted away from there, as fast as her legs could carry, but the men were faster.

They were there in a flash. Like knew what was happening.

Did Benjamin tell them?

"I hear that there's a birthday girl around here," Abraxas drawled, looking in Hermione's general direction; however, like Benjamin, he couldn't see her.

Riddle's smirk widened, nodding his head to the others in a silent command, relaying orders using Legilimency, like he often did in her presence.

Then, all seven of them surrounded her high back chair.

And all were smiling rather evilly.

Hermione sat there frozen, and felt her heart started to hammer wildly when they began to move in circles around her; prowling like a bunch of predators. Hermione dug her fingers into the arms of her chair.

Then, without warning, they did something really, really weird..and shocking.

They started to swaying and rolling their hips in time to the Leprechaun's favorite music.

"What are you guys doing?" she managed to squeak out, a red flush appearing on her cheeks.

"Why giving you a strip dance, of course," came Riddle's immediate response, a wicked grin plastered on his lips.

He slowly unbuttoned his shirt while his eyes held hers captive.

The others began to do the same thing as well.

Hermione gaped at him - and at the others - who were doing their best to imitate a male stripper.

"What is she saying, my lord?" Fabian Avery wondered out loud while he peeled off his shirt from his upper torso, still continuing to sway his lean hips to the music; his arms flexed at the movement and his pectorals bunched.

Hermione's mouth went dry at the sight.

Holy shit! She jumped to her feet, ready to run from there.

But Riddle blocked her path.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, clearly delighting in her discomfort.

"I just barely turned eighteen, and now you're giving me a strip dance, and with your knights no less! You're twenty-six for goodness sake! Aren't you going to act like a responsible adult or something? This is corrupting -" She hissed in embarrassed outrage.

"What can I say, I do love to corrupt the innocent."

She glared at him. Hermione wanted to punch him, but instead, she chose to walk right through him.

Yes, she walked through him, which she knew made HIM uncomfortable.

Riddle shivered, his hands clenching.

Hermione smirked.

"I'll see you later, Lord… Stripper!"

"You better do something productive with your time, girl!"

"The thing is Riddle… I don't bloody work for you! Now, go find a sofa to dry hump."

…..

Extra:

"What are you guys doing?" she managed to squeak out, a red flush suffusing her cheeks.

"Why giving you a strip dance, of course," came Riddle's immediate response, a wicked grin plastered on his lips.

With those words, he carefully began to unbutton his shirt while the others followed suit.

Hermione ran out of there as fast as her feet could carry, and shouting all the while:

"THEN ALL OF YOU CAN APPLY IN A STRIP CLUB! AND END YOUR PLANS AT WORLD DOMINATION, YOU BASTARDS!"

All of them heard her words of virginal outrage, and they all burst into roars of masculine laughter.

Even Riddle couldn't help but chuckle in amusement.


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