A/N - Author claims no rights to Harry Potter or any recognizable content. No profit is being made from this piece of fanfiction.
Hermione blinked, her cinnamon eyes opening in time to just catch sight of the dainty snowflakes dislodged from her lashes as she walked into her flat. Tossing her small handbag on the end table, she kept her gaze glued to the floor in front of her and made her way into the small kitchen.
Gripping the handle of the fridge a little too tightly, she pulled the door open relatively calmly and was once again proud of herself. As she rummaged around for the leftover Christmas cookies her mother had sent, she allowed her nails to dig into the cold steel of the refrigerator handle. The majority of her Christmas Eve had been spent at The Burrow surrounded by concerned Weasleys. Even after her nasty break up with Ronald, they still demanded she check in daily and Molly seemed to think she was required to divulge her inner thoughts, feelings, and secrets. Hermione was having none of it and at this point her relationships with her former friends could hardly get worse.
It had all started right after the final battle. She seemed even more prone to temper, snapping and admonishing Harry and Ron or really, anyone else who dared to get in her way. The final straw had been Ginny Weasley. Never one to back down from a fight, she had flung a horribly-aimed bat bogey hex at Hermione in the midst of a fight between Hermione and Harry. Hermione hadn't even thought of what she was doing and with malicious intent, hit Ginny with a nonverbal and even scarier, wandless crucio.
Not a single one of them had trusted her since. Harry and Ron were of the firm opinion the war had unhinged their formerly innocent bookworm. Ginny swore she was studying the dark arts. Molly, however, refused to just cast her aside and insisted she join in on the family holidays and get-togethers, which resulted in horribly uncomfortable scenarios for Hermione and the rest.
As Hermione's nails dug even harder into the cold metal, she cringed and snapped back to reality with a curse. Dwelling on things she couldn't change would help nothing and she was determined to have a decent Christmas, even if she was alone. Snatching an entire bottle of wine and kicking off her trainers, she made her way back into the living room and set the wine bottle on the coffee table.
As she shrugged off her robes and flopped onto the couch her eyes fell on her Christmas tree. She had painstakingly decorated it herself, alone, and had searched for hours for the darling little faeries that danced from branch to branch. One of the faeries was quite different from the others. Slightly prettier than the rest, she had a halo of perfect little blonde ringlets, with a mischievous sparkle to her eyes. Hermione had grinned down at the little imp and named her Tinkerbell the moment the tiny creature had blown her a kiss. For the two weeks the tree had stood, Hermione and Tinkerbell had formed an almost kinship.
Tinkerbell winked at Hermione as she leaned over to grab the wine bottle and jerked the cork out. Hermione couldn't help smiling at the little bugger. She was just too cute.
Half a bottle of wine and many, many conflicting thoughts later, the grandfather clock in the hallway started chiming and Hermione jumped. Before it had struck its twelfth chime, she was on her feet, clumsily sitting the wine back on the table and stretching. As she stripped off her jumper, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head toward the tree to see Tinkerbell zooming from branch to branch, obviously trying to get her attention.
Hermione tossed her jumper on the couch and headed over to the tree, a sleepy grin on her lips as the little faerie bobbed in mid air, her tiny wings beating faster and faster the closer Hermione got. Hermione's grin was wiped off her face as she got close enough for her sleepy eyes to register the fact there was a frown on the adorable little face. Tinkerbell seemed highly agitated and Hermione was sure if she could have spoken, she would be babbling madly.
Holding her index finger out for a perch, Hermione let the tiny creature settle and stared down at her. Halfway speaking to herself, Hermione murmured, "Tinkerbell love, what has you so riled up tonight?"
The little fairy cocked her head to the side and stared up at Hermione for what felt like ages before her face split into that dazzling smile. Before Hermione could even blink, Tinkerbell raised her hand, palm up, to her mouth and had blown some sort of dust into her face. Before she blacked out completely, Hermione felt as if her soul was being ripped in two as a dark shadow materialized in front of her, coalescing into a solid form. Inky black nothingness followed her muffled curse accompanied by the whisper of beating wings.
Hermione came to with a groan and instantly jumped to her feet, striding to the Christmas tree and glaring at the bloody fairy with the innocent look on her face. The "innocent" little fairy suddenly squeaked and zoomed deep into the branches as Hermione's finger raised, a spark of electricity following and zapping the mischievous creature right in the bottom. Hermione smirked and was about to send much worse at the creature when a rather large hand landed on her wrist and pushed her arm to her side.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat and she stood stunned. There was a deep, intense power running up her arm, starting where the large hand rested on her wrist. Turning slowly, she exhaled rather loudly as her eyes landed on a naked male chest. The naked man in front of her was thin, built like a swimmer and had a spattering of dark hair running from his chest down his abdomen. Swallowing hard, she forced her eyes upward instead of down and was met with a dark, intense stare that made her heart stop for a moment.
Perhaps the alcohol travelling through her bloodstream gave her courage, or perhaps she just simply didn't care. Regardless, she knew exactly who she was staring at and there wasn't a single ounce of fear as she said, "You are dead... how?"
Tom Riddle smirked down at her and whispered, "I could not die as long as you live, my pretty little mudblood." His hand was slowly sliding up her bare arm, over her shoulder, and as his large hand encompassed the entire right side of her head he leaned down and whispered against her lips, "You've carried a part of my soul nestled against your own since you foolishly stabbed a dried-out fang into that cup. Oh, but forgive my insult to your intelligence, pet…you knew that."
Hermione instantly bristled, but her, "I did no..." was muffled into his mouth as Tom Riddle slammed his lips into hers, his tongue instantly entering her mouth and rendering her weak in the knees, literally. He quickly followed her to the carpet, the only sound a muffled, "Oomph," he swallowed as he followed her down.
Hermione simultaneously felt on fire and numb. She couldn't bring her arms up to push him away no matter how much she thought she wanted to, until his lips left hers and began nipping down her jaw. Even then, her fisted hands landed on his shoulders and froze as he began speaking, "Oh you delicious little witch, it wasn't just me…you are still full of darkness. It's intoxicating."
His words, his voice, and his eyes which were tinted with red snapped her out of it and she pushed against his shoulders, whimpering. The red tint was gone as she looked up at him but she still struggled, whispering, "I'm not dark, I'm not..." while her eyes filled with tears. It had to have been him, all this time. All of her friends could sense the monster inside of her, it hadn't been her.
With surprising strength, he had her arms pinned over her head and his gorgeous ebony locks falling in her face as he pressed his lips to her ear. "My naïve little mudblood, you cannot lie to me. I feel it. I see it in your eyes..." he whispered as he leaned down and kissed her eyelids, tasting her tears. "I can feel the darkness in every pore of your body. I wanted to be freed, more than anything, and now that I am I can only think of one thing," he trailed off and licked a salty drop off his bottom lip as he stared into her eyes. "I want nothing more than to be back inside of you, owning you, marking you as mine. Hermione, make no mistake. I will do just that."
Hermione gulped loudly, her throat was suddenly dry and aching as she bit into her bottom lip and stared up at the man above her. He was a Dark Lord in the making. Evil personified. So why did it feel so right being under him? Why did every inch of skin he touched tingle? A pool of heat was settling in her lower abdomen and she whimpered as she experimentally lifted her hips. The contact against his very naked and very hard body ripped a groan from his beautifully full lips and Hermione instantly blushed.
"Really, pet, this will happen should you choose to comply or fight me. I would much rather have you give yourself to me, but I will take what is mine," he said while running his thumb over her bottom lip and gently dislodging her teeth.
Hermione blinked. Her vision was growing hazy and when that didn't help, she closed her eyes a moment, flicking out her tongue to moisten her dry lips, accidentally brushing the pad of his thumb. Her eyes snapped open as he growled. It was the deepest and most sensual sound she had ever heard, and her eyes immediately clouded over in lust.
She looked up at the gorgeous man who happened to be the most powerful wizard who had ever lived and knew she wanted him. She was so tired of being good, of doing what was expected. She hadn't even lost her virginity for Merlin's sake, simply because she held out the impossible hope that Harry and Ron would forgive her. There was only one last thing holding her back. What if he killed her?
A throaty chuckle erupted in the wizard's belly, vibrating through his body and hers as he whispered, "My dear, I would never hurt you," and his lips slammed into hers. He whispered one final word into her mouth. "Much," and caught her surprised gasp with his tongue as he waved a hand and removed every stitch of clothing from her body.
Hermione's eyes closed and she surrendered to the battle his tongue was waging on her mouth, wiggling her hips slightly until she felt him pressed against her core. Tom slid her arms over her head, capturing her wrists in one hand as his other pressed against her neck cutting her oxygen off. Hermione was deliciously light headed as he slammed home, ripping her innocence and claiming her in one swift move.
Hermione's eyes shot open in pain and the last thing she remembered seeing was Tinkerbell hovering on a branch staring down at the couple with a pleased look on her little angelic face.
It was a slight itch in her back that woke Hermione and she quickly realized the cause was a masculine chest with wiry black hairs tickling her sensitive skin. At that same moment she became aware of a deep, even breath hitting her neck and a hairy leg resting between hers. She didn't need to look back to know who they belonged to and the breath she hadn't realized she was holding escaped her lips in a quick whoosh.
Her surprised exhale seemed to be enough to wake the man curled around her and Hermione tried unsuccessfully to work up anger, panic, anything other than the reaction her mind and body were currently revelling in. Her skin was tingling in anticipation and she felt a giddy excitement wash over her exhausted body, the adrenaline his touch induced waking her quite fast.
The dangerous wizard seemed content to simply hold her tightly, his arms like bands of steel around her abdomen as he nibbled on her neck and earlobe. He was hissing softly into her ear and Hermione relaxed even further against his chest, her sensitive skin quivering against his with each shiver that ran through her.
Tom's seductive hisses finally flowed seamlessly into words, his voice husky as he whispered, "I had a very interesting conversation with Lucius after you fell asleep. He is of the opinion I'd never be accepted into society here and I'm inclined to agree."
Hermione's eyebrows furrowed as she wondered where this conversation was going. She was hesitant to admit it, even to herself, but she didn't want to lose this man so soon after finding him. His next words induced as much panic as they prevented.
"There is no need to pack, darling. Lucius is currently taking care of finances and will be returning here for us in a few hours. We will be leaving the country," he whispered, as his tongue began an intoxicating circular pattern right behind her ear.
Carefully, she scooted forward and rolled over to face him, practically melting as she gazed into his dark eyes. Flashes of the Weasleys, Harry, and the Order were dancing through her mind and she knew he was reading every single thought as she weighed her options. With a heavy heart she finally admitted it to herself that she had no reason to stay. As the realization washed over her, she saw Tom smile. It wasn't a pleasant smile, by any means. It was feral and hungry and he looked like he was going to devour her as he leaned forward and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.
On an island off the coast of Haiti stood a woman dressed in a thin white gown. Her hair was loose and flowing in the breeze, the deep gold locks dancing across her bare back as she stared out to sea with thoughtful cinnamon eyes.
It had been five years now. Five years since Lucius Malfoy barged into her room and threw both she and Tom a portkey that whisked them away to this tropical island. They landed in the sand, naked as the day they were born while they fought over her red flannel sheet, both anxious to cover themselves in the unfamiliar territory.
There had been no Harry Potter or Ronald Weasley sniffing around trying to find her. No Molly Weasley forcing her to eat while she was drilled about what she did the night before. No Ginny Weasley to curse when she stuck her freckled nose too far into Hermione's business.
A high-pitched giggle drew her attention to the large manor behind her, its imposing stone walls facing the sea and her four-year-old son tearing down the beach toward her. Hermione smiled as she stooped down and caught his little body in her arms and swung him around so fast that they both became dizzy and fell to the sand, still laughing.
Hearing a deep chuckle behind them, Hermione looked up into the dark eyes of her husband and knew no matter what there had been none of; there had been plenty of love and protection in her life. Love from a man who allowed her to embrace every aspect of her personality and her magic. Complete acceptance from a man most all feared beyond reason, a man she had somehow given another chance at life and who had given her life in return.
Leaning down to kiss her son's forehead as his eyelids began to droop, she snuggled up against Tom's side as he sat in the sand with her, gazing out at the sunset just beginning to dip beyond the horizon. It was Christmas, exactly five years from the day an interfering fairy brought them together and they had finally found peace in their darkness.
A/N - This one is my first attempt at cleaning up my stories. I sincerely apologize to those of you who don't agree with my decision of removing the M+ content. Those of you who receive an alert to this and are clueless, there is an explanation of what I'm doing on my profile page. I'm really curious to know if I changed enough, and if I kept this within the site's rules. I'm open to reviews with opinions either way. Thanks for reading, and I apologize again for pulling my stories. It is just something I feel I need to do.