A/N: I thank everyone who read, followed, fav-ed and reviewed.

The entire chapter with the full explicit contents can be found on AO3. The link is in my profile.


The Hogwarts Christmas Orb

Chapter Six

Intimate Connection

Riddle had thought for sure the experience with the bloke who'd tried to rape her would be the end of Hermione's dating and his inevitable win with regards to their bet. He'd already decided that his reward would be her answering his two questions. He'd smirked at the thought of the look on her face when she would realise she had to answer him without getting the knowledge of how his secret pocket worked in return.

However, Granger seemed to be not that easily deterred. What was even worse was that this new bloke, Evangolius (who named his child that?) seemed to have caught her fancy. He had no idea why. The man couldn't have an IQ over fifty, and he'd never thought Granger was one to go on looks alone. But this was the fifth date she'd been on with the brainless pretty boy, and no matter how many 'happy thoughts' he sent in Evangolius's direction, the bloke just wouldn't keel over and die on him.

So, now he was locked in the bathroom, while they were going at it in the bedroom. She'd dared lock Lord Voldemort in her bathroom. He clenched his hands to fists. The insolent little chit. Sure, he could shift into vapour and leave, but that would give away his secret.

Then, he heard Evangolius grunt in delight.

All right, he had enough of this. Hermione Jean Granger would find out what it meant to disrespect Lord Voldemort.

Using his anger, he shifted to vapour and flew through the cracks. They were on the bed. Too preoccupied with his movements, Evangolius was completely unaware a bored Hermione looked sideways at her alarm clock. Riddle materialised right next to her on the bed, lying sideways, with his face in her direction. 'Need some expert help there?' he taunted.

The effect was spectacular. She'd never screamed so loud in her life, pushing Evangolius off of her and jumping out of the bed, grasping her wand of her nightstand and clothing herself with a flick before pocketing the wand in her dressing gown.

'Wha-what?' Evangolius stuttered, confused.

'This isn't working,' Hermione said, taking in a deep breath to calm herself. 'Just go.'

'Did I do something wrong?' Evangolius asked.

Tom snorted. 'Just about everything.'

'Did I hurt you?' Evangolius added before Hermione had a chance to respond. He seemed genuinely concerned.

'With that boring routine, highly unlikely,' Tom commented.

'Shut up, you impossible, arrogant piece of—' she stopped yelling and shaking her fist at Tom when she saw Evangolius's bemused staring. Taking another deep breath, Hermione turned to her previous bed partner and said, 'I'm sorry, Evan, this isn't working out for me. You better go.'

Evangolius's shoulders dropped slightly. 'Why? I thought we were great together.'

'Just go, please.'

He moved off the bed, grabbing his clothes. Halting in the doorway, he turned and asked, 'Shall I owl you tomorrow?'

'Get out!' Hermione yelled, throwing a nearby vase at his head in frustration.

'You fucking crazy bitch!' Evangolius shouted, fleeing the flat.

Tom was pretty sure the bloke had never moved this fast in his entire life. Satisfied he wouldn't be seeing that moron ever again, he turned his attention to the little witch in the room. She made quite a stunning figure as she stood there in her dressing gown, hair all electrified by her anger and power—positively magnificent.

Apart from Hermione's heavy, frustrated breathing, the bedroom was utterly silent. Slowly, she turned to Tom, a murderous expression on her face. He was still lying sideways on her bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles, his hand supporting his head, allowing those long slender fingers to peek through those pitch-black locks. His hair was somewhat ruffled and his dark eyes shone merrily. He made quite the perfect picture, and she was pretty sure he knew it. Hermione pushed aside the suddenly rising attraction, which she was sure was due to Evan's lacking performance and her unsatisfied, wanton feelings, and she focused on her anger.

'You really have no respect for boundaries, do you?' she hissed.

'And you do?' Riddle countered. 'Instead of simply telling me you wanted to be alone with Mr I'll-Never-Have-An-Original-Thought-In-My-Life, you locked me up.'

'That's no excuse to just invade my privacy like that.'

'Well, you didn't sound like you were enjoying yourself. You know you can tell a bloke that he's doing something wrong.'

'Over the line again. It's none of your business.'

'Though I doubt the dolt could've taken directions properly,' he continued, undeterred. 'I never thought you'd be shy in the sack, Granger.'

'This isn't about shyness,' she growled. 'You had no business being here. You've got no business commenting on what I can and cannot do with another man. Actually, you were the one that talked on and on about my boring homely life and that I needed to get out more, and now that I do, you're what, jealous?'

He bristled.

'Oh, I think you are. Everything in the world has to be about you after all, the great Lord Voldemort,' she said, raising her hands to the sky. 'I'm so sick of this shit. We're not doing this anymore.'

'Doing what?'

'You interfering with my life. I liked my life before you complicated it. I happen to like my books, my freedom, my independence, my quiet time when I'm not working and I don't need you telling me it's wrong.'

Tom raised his eyebrows. 'I never said that it was wrong.'

'You said boring.'

He shrugged.

'I'm not boring! Now get the hell out of my bed before I kick you out.'

When he wasn't moving immediately, she took a threatening step forward, determined to kick the living daylights out of him. How dare he lie there, looking so utterly delectable when she felt beyond frustrated and unsatisfied.

'You do realise he left your front door open?' Tom interrupted, right before she was going to pound on him.

She cursed, storming out, too.

As she closed and locked the door, she sighed. Men were positively useless.

A soft, derisive laughter met her eardrums. Before she'd a chance to give Riddle a snide retort that might've stopped the obvious mockery coming her way, he'd already opened his mouth.

'But do tell me, Granger, how do you round up these dolts? Do you go to some special "I've got no clue" club to pick them up?'

Hermione closed her eyes, leaning with her palm against the door. She was so tired of this shit. What on earth was she even doing, bringing home random blokes just to prove a silly point to Lord Voldemort? Her life had been so much easier before he entered it. Again.

She had been perfectly happy entertaining herself with a good book, sitting on her comfortable couch by the fire and sipping a nice, hot cup of coffee. The couch he was now inhabiting as if it were his domain. He had fully invaded every inch of her life, and there simply was no getting rid of him. With every passing day, he seemed to become more and more a part of her as if she couldn't breathe without him. How could one man take up so much space? And why did she allow him to question everything she did? Why did she doubt herself and her choices based on what she knew to be manipulation?

'Have you ever even been kissed properly once?'

What?

She swirled around, her eyebrows raised questioningly and her mouth already half-open to give him a piece of her mind, when she found him standing only a few feet away—his normal immaculate appearance slightly ruffled as if he'd not given it any attention. His tie was dangling loose over his white shirt because he'd unbuttoned it at the top, giving her a teasing glimpse of his chest. Said shirt also wasn't tucked pristinely into his black trousers and his pale feet were sticking out. Slowly, her eyes trailed back up over his slender body, taking in those perfect hands with their long, slim fingers, that creak in his shirt showing of his flawless skin, that square jawline, his full lips, those dark eyes you could drown in and his now tousled hair. He looked positively to die for, and there was no doubt in her mind that all this was as deliberate as his normal, obsessively pristine appearance.

'Do you really think that works?' she sneered.

'What?' he replied innocently, but the amusement in his eyes belied his tone of voice—he knew exactly what she meant.

'I really don't have time for this,' Hermione snapped, 'whatever this,' she gestured at his appearance, 'is. I'm tired and I'm going to bed. Feel free to make yourself vanish.'

She walked past him in a brisk pace, not in the mood to go another round with him, especially not since he was so good in pinpointing the sore spots when it came down to her socialising skills or lack thereof. Demonstratively, she slammed the door of her bathroom shut. To her utmost surprise, he didn't follow her in or kept bothering her with his incessant chatter through the door. Instead, it remained silent.

So, she could've calmly got herself ready for bed. However, that was not what happened. She did brush her teeth, washed herself, sniffed at her favourite flannel pyjamas and dumped them in the hamper, putting her dressing gown back on. She did everything she'd normally do, but somehow she wasn't at ease. She was on edge. Her mind supplied her with the perfect picture he presented and she kept hearing those words 'Have you ever even been kissed properly once?' over and over again as if they were an invitation. She splashed some cold water in her face for good measure and dried her face, shaking her head towards the mirror as if reminding herself of her one and only option. This was an area not to be ventured into.

However, when she opened the door that led back into her bedroom, he was standing there, leaning against the wall with his left shoulder, his leg crossed at the ankle in front of the other: the epitome of dashing casualness and self-assurance. 'I take it your reluctance to answer my simple question means you haven't been kissed properly.'

Hermione bristled. 'I've been kissed plenty of times, thank you very much.'

The corner of his mouth twitched up. 'Yes, I was there. I, however,' he pushed himself away from the wall and slowly glided towards her, 'wasn't talking about quantity, Hermione.'

The way her name slid of his lips made it sound oh so foreboding, sinuous and practically illegal. Her mouth turned dry and, in response, she folded her arms protectively in front of her chest. Instantaneously, he stopped moving towards her. They were a mere few feet apart now.

'Not that it is any of your business, but I've been kissed perfectly fine in the past.'

'Perfectly fine,' he clicked with his tongue and shook his head, 'not the words you would've used if you had any idea what a proper kiss entailed.'

'Oh, and I suppose you're "The Expert",' she mocked.

'Is that a challenge?'

Yes.

'No!'

Crap! What am I thinking? Nervously, Hermione rubbed her neck.

'I think it is.'

'Naturally, because when a woman says no, she means yes,' Hermione sneered.

Tom tilted his head. 'No, that's not what I meant. If you don't want to, if you're too afraid of what you might experience, if you don't dare to, it's perfectly fine. Just say no right now and I'll walk away and you can go to sleep and be with those so far beneath you, I can't even see the crown of their heads. Or, you can overcome your fear of a true kiss. Be a true Gryffindor, overcome your fear of what you deem are inappropriate feelings towards me and say yes.'

'You are so full of it.'

'"Perfectly fine". If you had any idea how inadequate those words are to describe a proper kiss, you wouldn't hesitate for a second. I can do so much better than "perfectly fine", Hermione Granger. Let me prove it to you.'

She blinked, looking down while she wriggled nervously with her fingers. This was a bad idea. Stupid. And yet … he'd made her curious. Had she really been missing out on something? Besides, it was only a kiss, right? It didn't mean anything, did it?

'Don't you want to prove me wrong?'

'You're such a smooth manipulator,' she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

'True, but I'm also very knowledgeable.' He locked his eyes on hers. 'About everything, Hermione.' He took a step towards her. 'Shall I explain it to you? How a real kiss isn't about merely pressing your lips together and slobbering into each other's mouths. I think you've always known there was more, always wanted more out of the experience, and just failed to meet someone able to give it to you.' He cupped her face. She really wished she didn't like the feeling of that, but it was nice, comforting. 'Let me give it to you.'

'Er … I—I …' Her mouth was dry, so she swallowed, licking her lips as her eyes flickered between his mouth and his eyes. It was just a kiss, right? It didn't mean anything. 'All right, if it'll stop you from nagging at me,' she said bossily, trying to show how unimpressed she was, while her heart pounded audibly in her ears. It even sped up when she witnessed the familiar, foreboding, amused flicker in his eyes and the small upwards curve of his lips.

'There will be no need for any … "nagging" when I'm done with you. Just try to follow my lead. I know that doesn't come natural to you.'

Her glare made him chuckle lightly, causing her stomach to do a little flip-flop. Slowly, his hand stroked the side of her face, brushing a strand of hair away. It left a nice, tingling sensation in its wake, and she didn't mind it when his fingertips danced over her cheek before disappearing into her hair and cupping the back of her neck. Fear and anticipation ran through her body, causing her senses to be on high alert. Her pupils were wide as he closed the distance between them, bumping into her still crossed arms. He merely raised an eyebrow questioningly at her, and she awkwardly dropped her arms. That erupted a predatory smile on his face and his eyes darkened, making her swallow reflexively. Her heart was in her throat now, and she had to lick her lips because her mouth was dry again.

His other hand now stroked her face, which was even more sensitised than before. It made her feel as if she were swaying on her feet. Their eye contact was intense; she couldn't look away as he towered over her. Gently, he tilted her head, his fingers caressing her jawline as his thumb rubbed over her dry lips once. Automatically, she licked them again. When he leaned in, she moved forward and he backed off, clicking disapprovingly with his tongue. Unsure, Hermione looked at him. The silence was killing her, but she couldn't find the right words to say—somehow they remained lodged in her throat.

His fingers went over the hollow of her throat meticulously before he tilted her head and moved in for a kiss again. She kept positively still this time. Actually, her whole body was tense in anticipation. His lips halted right before hers. She could sense his breath ghosting against them and she wanted so much to close the distance, but he held her head quite firmly. Her expectations shot through the roof and a dissatisfied groan grew in her throat without her conscious approval. Slowly, his lips brushed hers, once, twice, barely touching. It made her lips tickle ever so wonderfully. Heat flushed from her neck to her face. Her eyes fluttered shut.

Swiftly, he licked her lips once, then gently started nibbling on them. It was heaven and hell combined. She wanted more, yet this was so nice. Her body sank against his, hands gripping his clothes to steady herself. His hand trailed down her shoulder and side before snaking around her back. They were gently kissing, heads tilting from side to side in a calm pace.

Then, his arm tightened around her back; his fingers curled into her hair, gripping it tightly; and he roughly pressed his mouth to hers, almost brutally demanding access with his tongue. Eagerly, Hermione opened her mouth, feeling that kiss from head to toe. It was as if an electric charge shot down to the very core of her being. Her content moan vibrated between them as their tongues stroked each other languorously, heads changing position. Her hands moved up his chest, stroking his neck before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He swirled them around, pressing her back up against the wall while grabbing her thighs and lifting her.

Swiftly, Hermione wrapped her legs around his hips, her hands disappearing into his soft locks. They hadn't even broken for air, kissing each other ferociously. A desperate, muffled cry erupted in her throat. She needed more, so much more. He broke off their kiss, leaning his forehead against hers as they both panted for air.

Hermione opened her eyes, gazing straight in his.

'Well?' he asked breathlessly.

Her ragged breaths took priority before she finally was able to say, 'Adequate, I suppose,' lifting an eyebrow daringly and smirking at him.

'Adequate,' he repeated, his eyes darkening.

'Yes,' she added lightly, shrugging, her eyes twinkling at him.

He pressed his body hard against her, erupting a gasp from her lips. He leaned into her hair, licking the curve of her earlobe, which made her twitch. 'I don't respond well to lies, Miss Granger,' he said threateningly, taking her lobe between his teeth and grazing it.

'Oh gee, and what are you going to do about it?' she taunted. 'Going to punish the little liar?'

His breathing hitched, and his fingers dug into her sides. He stood there motionless, frozen to the ground.

'Think you're man enough to handle that?' she added.

Calmly, he retreated from her ear, staring straight into her eyes. Her whole demeanour screamed mischief. She was daring him, and Lord Voldemort was never one to back down from a dare.

'Are you sure you're woman enough to handle me?' he countered, raising an eyebrow.

'Hmm…not sure I'll have much to handle. You are quite the babbler and you know the saying, All talk and no play mammblllmmm …'

His lips bruised hers as he smothered the rest of her response and moved her to the bed. When they were finally done, he wrapped his arms around the exhausted, little witch and pulled his former enemy into his arms.

'That was fun,' she whispered tiresomely.

He couldn't agree more.