Thanks for the excellent response guys, keep them coming! Here is the next chapter.

Tom Riddle yawned, stretching his arms widely as he propped himself against the mountain of pillows that lay at the head of his four-poster bed. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, before folding the duvet under his chin and smiling in satisfaction. Last night had not only provided a much-needed release for her, but for him also - it had been months since he had properly administered punishment, and the two students had created enough tension between them for his actions to seem both monstrous and satisfying. The curly-haired boy let out a sigh of satisfaction, settling his arms behind his head and shutting his eyes. Waking up to the memories of her raw backside, her trembling legs, and the smell of her on his fingers was the perfect way to start a Saturday, and now he had all day to lord it over the girl who was still situated on his sofa. He had made sure she wouldn't be able to leave his rooms before he woke - not by any magical means, he had simply removed her shirt and skirt, leaving her scantily clad in underwear alone. The very image of her laying on the sofa had him licking his lips in anticipation.

"Expluso!" a voice from across the room rang out.

The glass lamp on his nightstand shattered, sending shards flying over the smug face in the bed. Tom's eyes flew open to see a furious Hermione standing at the end of his bed, her gaze so intense he thought it might burn holes in his bedspread. He attempted to jump out of the bed, but was delayed when his feet tangled in his duvet and he was sent crashing to the floor, face first. Hermione snorted and raised her wand higher as the boy clambered to his feet.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Turner?" he spat, glaring at the girl across the room.

"I could ask the same of you last night!" she retorted, flicking her wand and sending a number of goblets flying in his direction. Though Tom raised his arms to prevent them hitting his face, a rogue piece of glass sliced through the flesh of his arm, blood splattering to across the wooden floor.

"You stupid little-" he began, anger beginning to cloud his vision. Hermione could see how her actions had affected him - but she was far too angry to care. His face began to grow redder, his pupils dilated and the girl gulped, gripping her wand tighter in her hand. All of a sudden, the magical object was torn from her grasp by some unseen force - Tom hadn't uttered a single word, he didn't have his wand, yet- Another force drove her body backwards, slamming her into the wall before dropping her to the floor and letting her slump in a heap at his feet. Tom strode towards her, crouching down to take hold of her chin and compel her gaze upwards. She could barely breathe under the glare of those intense green eyes, they seemed different, harder - the steely glint spoke of nothing but hatred and pain. These were the hard eyes that would belong to Lord Voldemort, not his teenage counterpart. She needed to calm him down before something far worse than his actions last night would occur.

"T-Tom-"

"No. You speak when spoken to," he snapped, his grip on her chin tightening.

"B-but, please I just want to-" she began, before a hard slap on her cheek sent her head snapping to one side.

"No, Hermione, no," he hissed, placing his long fingers on the side of her cheek. "You will listen...and...You. Will. Learn. If not, I'm sure the cleaning staff are getting used to finding mudbloods in the girl's toilets." With each word he edged closer, until his breath could be felt, hot on her skin.

An idea popped into her head - the only thing that might keep her from being torn apart by a giant snake. "How do you know I'm a mudblood?" she stammered.

"Isn't it obvious? I thought you were clever..." he replied, smirking. She could feel the lips curve against her cheek. It was at that moment she noticed the re-emergence of that bubbling sensation at her temples - she had thought it drunkenness at first, but now...

"Legilimens! No, no - stop it right now! Get out of my head!" she cried, beginning to panic. How much had he seen of the future, of her past, of his awful deeds?

"I saw glimpses of your life, but was unable to reach too far without alerting you. I know you are from the future. I know you are a mudblood. I know your name is Hermione Granger, not Turner. I know that you know I have killed. I know you're a virgin. And last but not least, I know you're stuck here. That is all," he stated without even letting her vocalize the question. Her heart rate picked up immediately and she began to try and escape his grasp. They tussled on the floor, Hermione's small fists flying left right and center. He moved behind her, pulling her back between his legs and against his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a vice-like lock. This might have been a lover clinch to the unknowning eye; his head was resting gently on her shoulder, her back pressed against his torso, hair ruffled, faces flushed, both of them wearing nought but their underwear.

"My, my Miss Granger, what a mess you've gotten yourself into," Tom said, smoothly. The girl had given up hope of escape by now, tears streaming down her face at the thought of her predicament - bared to Voldemort's hands and eyes, encased in his strong arms with nowhere to run. Her only solace was that her mind had protected the memories regarding Tom's own future, his life as Voldemort and the battles that had plagued her childhood. She would make sure that her thoughts were protected from this point onwards, pushing the Legilimens out once and for all.

"You can't keep me out altogether though, can you Hermione?" Tom growled next to her ear. "I saw some other things in that pure little head of yours. Many were...awfully sinful. Wouldn't have guessed you had it in you." The girl between his legs remained silent, but he felt a tear drip onto his thigh. He smirked and pulled her closer to him, stroking her upper arms up and down. "I could do those things for you, Miss Granger. It would be a pleasure."

With his lips at her ear, speaking such daring promises so softly, and his hands roaming her bare skin, Hermione shut her eyes in bliss. This was so wrong, these feelings were so wrong - but the temptation was killing her. "No, Riddle. I have no intention of- ah!" His lips moved to her neck and he slowly began to kiss down towards her shoulders. "I d-don't want you to touch me. S-stop, or I will tell-"

"You'll risk your identity and predicament becoming common knowledge if a single bad word is mentioned against me. You keep quiet, I keep quiet," he murmured, flicking his tongue over her ear-lobe. The girl shuddered, causing Riddle to chuckle darkly. " I have an offer for you - you wish to get back to your own time? I have many powerful contacts who many be able to assist you in your endeavors..."

Hermione's heart leapt. "Really?" she started, her voice alive with hope. As his fingers began to stroke the upper curve of her breasts, her senses kicked in. "Why would you help me? It is quite clear from the frequent abuse that you dislike, no - hate me." Riddle slipped one hand inside the cup of her bra and began squeezing the flesh underneath. Hermione immediately started to struggle, attempting to create some distance between them, kicking her legs and shaking her shoulders violently.

"Unless you wish to arouse me further, I would suggest you cease your writhing," he laughed, rolling her nipple between his fingers. The girl stilled, already starting to feel his hardness against her lower back. "I will help you as best I can, no promises, because you can provide an equally valuable service to me."

"Which is?"

"Be mine. For as long as it takes to get you home, it could be weeks, months, days, who knows? You would be required to say yes, to everything I ask of you, to come to my rooms after dinner and sleep beside me every night. I promise not to kill you or maim you in any way. And I'll stay out of your frizzy little head. Or, you can say no and I will leave you alone from here on out."

Hermione mulled over the situation. His words were truth, most likely, the upcoming Dark Lord was bound to know a plethora of intellects who could help her - but what would she be saying yes to? "Would you be hurting me?"

"On occasion. Nothing you haven't dreamt about," he replied, wordlessly casting Diffindo to remove her bra and release her soft bosom.

The girl began to weigh up her options - whilst Tom began voicing her secret fantasies in her ear, hands tenderly massaging her flesh, stroking the tender underside and alternating between pinching and rubbing her nipples until they hardened to his touch. She let out a soft moan as one hand began to move lower, over her stomach and onto the material of her panties.

"Make your choice," he whispered, kissing gently under her ear. His actions were clouding her judgement, distracting her - she needed time to be alone to think, but that was undoubtedly unacceptable in Tom's mind. He ceased his gentle touch and sharply brought his hand down between her legs, causing Hermione to cry out, bringing her knees together. "I said make your choice. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"No, no I will not bow to your every word. I will find help elsewhere, Riddle, n-now take your filthy hands off of me!" she shouted, moral compass swinging in the direction not tainted by her ever-growing lust for the dark haired boy. His hands disappeared from her breasts and moved to her hair, pulling it down so he could see her terrified face below him.

"Your choice, Granger, sorry - Turner," he spat, eyes burning into hers. He pushed her forwards, giving her a chance to cover her immodesty with her arms, and gracefully took to his feet, reaching for an emerald robe that hung beside his bed. He shrugged the silk garment over his shoulders, before turning back to look at the half-naked, flustered thing on his floor. "Well, what are you still doing here?"

"I...need my clothes," she said, somewhat shocked he was just going to let her leave without any further assault.

Riddle snorted and pointed to the desk in his bedroom, where her uniform lay, neatly folded. Hermione dressed as quickly as she could, keeping her back to the boy whose eyes never left her form. "I'm not going to tell anyone what happened here. And I will remain Hermione Turner, transfer student."

Riddle nodded curtly, his features cold. Hermione shifted awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. "This is never happening again, even if I do beat you in every class - you have no right to be such a brute. Goodbye." With that, she turned on her heel and began walking towards the door. A hand wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her back, crashing her into Riddle's hard chest. She beat her fists against his pectorals for a moment, before he caught her wrists in his hands and stilled her motions. His face lowered to meet hers, too close for comfort.

"I will have you, I've no doubt about that, Hermione. I would so miss the feel of you beneath me and sound of my name coming from those pretty lips," he whispered, running his fingers across said lips. In a blink, he had replaced his fingers with his mouth, hands flying to the back of her head to trap her in a deep kiss. Hermione squealed angrily, opening her lips wide enough to let his tongue enter her mouth and explore the wet region. His motions were sensual, as if kissing his lover, not his enemy, goodbye. Eventually the kiss ceased and Tom swept out of the room, towards the private bathroom allocated to the Head Boy.

The girl stood in shock for a minute, before exiting his lodgings and running the entire journey back to her dormitory.