I recommend everyone googles "Angel In the House" and reads that poem. And let me tell you, I KEELED THE ANGEL! and it was a victory! this chapter was fun to write but it's definitely darker. Nyë Pyll means "Into The Forest" in Albanian.

Nerys

Aye chica! Lol. For some reason my comp wasn't letting me on here! I had to restart and have been trying to post. But here it is! Don't worry I don't think you'll be disappointed!

'

This chapter is sort of longer

Heidi191976

Thanks!

.

Yes poor Hermione. She'll have trouble with Dumbledore now!

ShinketsuKarasu

Lol. I liked the Hermione/tom scene last chapter too. It was cuddly.

And I don't think tom would have crucio'd his family not because he didn't want to but because he had just gotten out of his 5th year and even if he had cast the cruciatus curse before (which he most likely had at least once) he would still know that it was 3 adults against him even if he was a wizard. It's more wise to terrify, kill and be done with him.

dreamofdesire

Poor tom. He's not as strong as he thinks he is. purrs

Nerys

you again! I had a dream last night that I went shopping with tom. Not even kidding. He bought a green sweater! XD

lol yeah tom wouldn't like lovely dovey stuff. He hates love so anything loving would creep him out. I semi relate. I'm not really romantic

and I'm sorry the next chapter took so long! Lol. I had to be careful with it. you'll see.

blindfaithoperadiva

Bahaha. The blood thing will be more obvious soon.

Ankoku Dezaia

Lol poor tom?? He's a psycho! A hot psycho but still!

Tears of Ebon-Grey

Ddore is hard to characterize. I do my best!

Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Tom Riddle. chuckles

Drink From My Cup

Chapter Twenty-One: Nyë Pyll

Death of an Orange

So ripe and soft. Hands squeeze the thick porous skin, already exploding with moister. A nail makes a slit that allows the flesh to be peeled steadily off in random patterns. First a small piece, ripped aside to reveal the flaky, white underbelly of the skin as well as the sweet, golden fruit itself. The next piece of skin ripped away is larger, the first having given better access for the fingers. The skin is shed, gently at first, but then more eagerly as the conquest is reached. Finally the shell is tossed aside and the orange revealed, full to bursting. It is split in two, by hand, liquid running down the fingers as the first slice is lifted to lips. Once it enters the mouth the slice is torn and the small pouches that hold the sweet juice are revealed. They are crushed, unnoticed. The first slice is popped in, almost unappreciated, and devoured. The second is treated in much the same manner, though the liquid bursting between teeth is noticed and pleasing. One after another the pieces of orange enter with much the same care, juice running down the chin and sticking the hands, until the very last. This one is unconsciously passed between the lips much slower than the last and savored with the sort of care given to the last days of summer. It is sucked on and chewed until swallowed reluctantly and is gone. As a hand reaches for yet another piece, it realizes with surprise that there are none and all that is left are the pieces of flesh, inedible and still full of moisture, to play with.

Hermione wasn't sure what to do. Should she visit Tom in the hospital wing? She did not think he would be very pleased to see her though he would probably expect her anyway. Especially since he would not know how he ended up in the hospital wing in the first place… this was not going to help his temper…

She decided against going to see him right away. After she slept, she spent time in the library (sneaking back the book she took the previous night) and completed as much homework as she could knowing once Tom was back at full strength she would not be spared a chance to work on it.

As she completed her Charms essay her mind began to drift back to the conversation she and Tom had had about the blood potion. She was still repulsed at the idea his blood was part of her now. But she still suspected there was more to that potion than he had let on. She didn't even know where to begin researching a potion like that. She supposed she would start back in the restricted section… again.

Hermione spent hours flipping through every book she and Tom and looked through during their visits to the library. Nothing. Had he come up with the potion himself? Perhaps the potion he had made had been an innovation from other potions. Whatever it was she knew that the potion did more than stop her pain. It somehow made her closer to him.

Hermione hadn't realized she had spent the entire day in the library until the light coming from the windows began to dim.

"Artemis?"

Hermione looked up from what seemed like the hundredth book she had gone through that day. It was Caity.

"Oh, hello Caity!" she said, feeling slightly guilty she had not spent more time with her new friend.

Caity smiled weakly. She obviously had something troubling her mind.

"Do you know why Riddle's in the hospital wing?" she asked. Hermione was surprised. She had not realized the news that Tom was sick would travel so fast. "No one's been allowed to visit him. I'm worried it might be something really serious." And Caity, bless her heart, looked genuinely worried.

Hermione frowned. Tom Riddle was such a manipulator.

"No. I'm sure he just caught a cold that went wrong. You know how he is… he would rather try and battle out the cold than get a quick fix."

Caity looked unconvinced.

"I'm going to see if any of the Slytherins know," Caity said and turned away.

Hermione wished that someone, anyone would see through Tom's silly charade.

Hermione turned back to her work in darker spirits. She was sitting on the floor in front of the longest bookshelf with a moldy book propped open on her lap. She was about to flip the page when her eyes caught it.

Cruor Vinculum

Hermione squinted her eyes and read the description. It was more difficult to understand because it was written in old English. It said nothing about Horcruxes, which is why it had taken Hermione so long to find it for she had been searching through the books on Horcruxes first. It was a simple potion, though it took several hours to brew and had been banned due to the dangerous procedure of taking so much of ones own blood. Hermione looked at the section of the book she had found the spell in.

Diligo Quod Servitium

Hermione gasped and turned back to the page to finish reading the description. Everything she had been feeling toward Tom Riddle… the confusion, the…

Hermione gripped the edges of the book tightly. He had essentially fed her a love potion.

This was not one of those infatuation potions the Weasley brothers sold that only lasted a few days. This was the kind of potion Rita Skeeter had accused Hermione of brewing her fourth year, the kind the Ministry had banned.

And he had fed it to her. Twice. Albeit it was in small doses. According to the description, the recipient had to drink the potion regularly for a month before the process was complete. Hermione slammed the book shut, rose, and stormed out of the library with it. The librarian, who had always been fond of her, watched her go in surprise.

"Now really…"

Hermione headed straight towards the hospital wing with the intention of demanding to see Tom Riddle.

Tom's eyes opened slowly to find he was looking into the face of Albus Dumbledore. The surprise of seeing his least favourite person in the world prevented Tom from masking the immediate annoyance in his face.

"Glad to see you're awake, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly as though he had not noticed anything.

Tom quickly dropped any emotion from his face. He felt panic rise in him mixed with his anger. Was it possible Hermione and turned him in to Dumbledore? He tried to sit up.

"No, no, Tom," Dumbledore said and placed a hand on Tom's shoulder, pushing him back onto the sheet. "You need your rest. It was a good thing I came across you and Miss Morgen this morning. She said you had been out on a stroll and had simply nodded off."

Tom breathed. She had not revealed anything. Good Horcrux. He may consider not punishing her as harshly as he had been planning to.

"But of course," Dumbledore continued, with a dangerous twinkle in his eye. "I could not imagine why Artemis was having such trouble waking you up."

Tom raised his eyebrows at his Professor.

"I don't know, sir. Seventh years are very tired. NEWTs this year."

"Yes, I have seen many fits of exhaustion from our seventh years in the past. And you are one of our more ambitious students."

Tom didn't say anything, waiting for Dumbledore to continue.

"But I have never seen someone fall as ill as you did due to exhaustion, Tom. Actually, I have never seen anything taught at Hogwarts that could have put you in the state I found you in." Dumbledore continued to stare at Tom with his piercing blue gaze.

"What are you saying, professor?" Tom asked in a respectful tone.

"Do you remember what I told you, Tom? The day we met?" said Dumbledore.

Tom resisted frowning. He did remember the day they had met. It had been that day that had raised Dumbledore's first suspicions about him.

"Yes, sir."

"I informed you that the Ministry has laws and that it would punish those who break them."

"Yes…"

Dumbledore stroked his long auburn beard, while watching the young wizard seriously.

"I would like to remind you of that again, Tom."

"Thank you, Professor. I will think it over," Tom replied shortly. What a crazy old bat.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something else but before the words were out of his mouth, the wing's doors had slammed open.

Both Tom and Dumbledore looked in surprise at Hermione who marched into the ward but faltered after seeing her professor sitting beside Tom.

"Oh," she said dully, losing some stamina. "I- I can come back…"

Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"I was on my way out, Artemis. You may speak to Tom if you would like," he said and glanced at the school nurse who had exited her office to see what was wrong before scowling and returning into it.

Hermione smiled meekly as Dumbledore passed her and exited. She turned to Tom who was watching Dumbledore go with loathing etched on his face.

Hermione felt her energy return and she marched to his side and threw the book she was holding onto his lap. He sat up and looked at it.

"I see you've been doing some research," was all he said.

"You bastard!" she shouted at him as loud as she could without drawing the nurse's attention. "You bloody, bastard! You fed me this- this love potion!"

He looked at her, amused. This may be the sort of payback he had been going for…

"You seem very ungrateful that I saved your life. I hardly gave you the full dosage. I didn't want you slobbering all over me."

"You still fed it to me! You could have at least informed me of what I might feel!"

"What did you feel?" he asked, looking at her with interest.

Hermione growled.

"You damn well KNOW what I felt!" she said feeling her cheeks grow hot.

Tom sighed. His Horcrux was growing mutinous. And he still had yet to discover her motive for feeding him that potion. He was afraid he would have to take immediate steps to further his immortality. He had not planned on taking the next step so soon and now this witch was forcing his hand. He had a lot of thinking to do.

"Get out," he ordered more because he had to begin planning than because he was angry with her.

"Excuse me? You still haven't—"

"Call us even," he said giving her a murderous look. "Now get out before I call the nurse over."

Hermione was fuming but Tom's attention had already drawn away from her. She made a promise to herself that this conversation was not over and stormed out of the hospital wing.

Tom straightened his robes as he exited the Hospital wing the following morning. The nurse, not being able to detect what had caused his illness and not being able to explain why he had regained his strength, had let him leave.

Tom made his way through the castle back to the Head Boy's room. It was a longer walk and he passed several students who seemed glad to see he was feeling better.

"Just a bug," he explained to any questions they had.

Just as he had reached the Hogwarts' crest he heard someone call him name. He turned to see the Gray Lady floating toward him, smiling prettily.

"Oh, Tom, I'm glad to see you're feeling better!" she said sweetly. "I hope you weren't too ill."

"Hello, Gray Lady," Tom replied politely. "No. I only let a cold get away with me. I'm perfectly fine now, thank you."

"I'm very pleased to hear it," she said lowering herself so that she wasn't floating above him. "And please, call me Helena." Her cheeks glowed silver.

Something registered in Tom's brain and his eyes swept over her face.

Helena? The ghost of Ravenclaw was named Helena. "You're Helena Ravenclaw."

"Yes," she replied, smiling mischievously. "Helena Ravenclaw."

Tom was startled. He could not believe he had gone through Hogwarts for the past seven years and had not noticed the resemblance between the Gray Lady and Rowena Ravenclaw.

"It's not commonly known outside of my house," Helena admitted seeing the look on his face. "I don't like to mention it, really. But," she lowered her voice. "I have heard rumours," she looked at him excitedly. "That you are related to Slytherin."

This was not the kind of conversation he had ever expected to have with one of the Hogwarts ghosts. Tom grinned broadly. He had just been given the perfect opportunity.

"Yes, I am," he admitted with false shyness. "But I don't like to mention it."

She giggled.

"Why don't you like to mention it?" he continued curiously.

The smile on the Gray Lady's face faded. She looked uncomfortable.

"Well…" she said slowly.

"It's alright, Helena" Tom said, gently. "You don't have to talk about it if you'd rather not."

Tom studied the expression on Helena's face. She looked at Tom sadly.

"I was never as wise as my mother," she began. Tom felt his stomach clench in excitement.

"I wanted to be as clever as she. More clever than she was, in fact." The Gray Lady looked ashamed.

"We all want to be greater than our parents," Tom said sympathetically.

Helena nodded glumly.

"She had a diadem," she continued. "that gave extraordinary wisdom to whomever wore it."

Yes, Tom had heard of it before. He listened anxiously to where the story was headed.

"I stole it," she said quietly, her pale eyes widening. "I stole it from my mother and ran away."

"Knowledge cannot be stolen," Tom insisted. "An object like that should be shared. Your mother had no right to keep it from you in the first place."

The Gray Lady looked at Tom appreciatively.

"I know… of course, but the trouble I caused...!" she shook her head tragically.

"What others do is their choice. We cannot blame ourselves."

She looked thoughtful for a moment before sighing.

"My mother became ill," she said with a pained expression on her face. "She fell ill and wanted to see me one final time. She sent a man who had been in love with me to find me. But, when I refused to come with him he killed me in anger. He could not live with what he had done, and killed himself shortly after. You know him as the Bloody Baron."

Tom made a note to talk to the Hogwarts ghosts more often. Their pasts were proving to be more exciting than he had previously thought.

"What became of the diadem," Tom heard himself asking before he could stop himself.

"If it has not been moved it is still in the place I left it centuries ago."

She watched him pensively.

"There is nothing wrong with wanting—" Tom began.

"—To pursue knowledge. Yes, you are right." She finished for him.

Tom was going to say "power," but she could think what she wanted if it would get her to trust him.

She looked nervous as she stared at him anxiously.

"And you are the heir of Salazar?" she asked.

"I am," Tom said.

"My mother always liked him. They were friends. The founders of Hogwarts… even if he did have a falling out with Gryffindor." She paused. "Why do you not like to mention it?"

"I do not want to brag," he grinned.

She nodded.

"Only someone modest could wear the diadem of Ravenclaw and use it as it was meant. I suppose that is why I was never meant to keep it," she added as an after thought. "But it would be nice if the diadem could be found… preferably by someone as connected to the school as you... related to a founder…"

Helena missed the greedy expression that crossed Tom's face as she leaned in to whisper the location of the lost diadem.

Hermione was prodded awake by a house-elf.

She grumbled and stirred before opening her eyes to see a creature with bat like ears and enormous eyes peering at her nervously.

"Sorry, Miss!" it squeaked in an incredibly high voice. Hermione surmised it was a girl. "I have orders! Miss must—"

Hermione sighed.

"Go to the Room of Requirement?" she ventured.

The house-elf shook her head, her ears flapping into her face. She held out a note in her long fingered hands.

Hermione looked puzzled and took the note, thanking the elf. She opened the note and read:

Meet me in the Entrance Hall as soon as you receive this letter.

-LV

Hermione scowled. Of course he would sign "Lord Voldemort." But didn't he realize that she could choose to simply not come? Surely he knew she would rather not see him after what he had done to her? And especially not after what she had done to him. She bit her lip as she stared at the parchment. She could at least continue the conversation they had been having in the hospital wing. But whatever he wanted couldn't possibly be good… he already wanted revenge…

She got out of bed and dressed. She was sorted into Gryffindor for a reason. She assumed they would be outside considering he wanted to meet her in the Entrance Hall. That made the situation extra ominous.

She grabbed her cloak and tied it around her as she crept quietly out of her dormitory, careful no to wake the other sleeping Gryffindors. She gripped her wand tightly and cast a disillusionment charm on herself so any more teachers wouldn't catch her. One run in with Professor Dumbledore had been enough.

She felt wide-awake as she walked through the halls with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She almost turned back twice but decided it would be better to face whatever he had in store for her head on. He was probably still a bit weak anyway.

She reached the Entrance Hall and scanned the area. No one. She assumed he was probably under a disillusionment charm as well. She lifted her own so that he would know she was there and make his presence known. Suddenly, she felt something grab her arm and cover her mouth before she could shriek.

"Shhh. It's me," she heard Tom's voice say and he uncovered her mouth.

She settled and turned to look at him. He wasn't there.

"I'll lift the charm once we get outside," he said and led her towards the doors. She walked along with him feeling the sturdy grip of his hand. She could tell he was not angry at all. He was animated in fact. What was going on?

"How did you know I would come?" she asked him distrustfully.

"The potion," he said and she could hear the grin in his voice. Hermione fumed.

They stepped off the final step of the castle and began making their way across the grounds. Tom became visible and Hermione could see he was carrying a large bag.

"What is that for?" she inquired suspiciously.

"Ritual," he said simply. Hermione stopped walking and he turned to look at her. "You do not have a role in it, if that puts you at ease."

Hermione breathed and continued walking.

"Then why am I coming?" she demanded.

"Because you are a Horcrux," he said not looking at her. "And I would like all my Horcruxes to be present for this."

Hermione's apprehension grew.

They passed the snow covered Quidditch pitch and continued walking in silence, the moon illuminating the grounds around them.

They approached the edge of the forest and Tom moved to step into the cluster of trees.

Hermione froze again.

"Why are we going into the forest?"

Tom gave her an annoyed look.

"Because we can't be seen." And he began to pull on her arm.

Hermione shook her head. She had only been deep into the forest once before and it hadn't been a pleasant experience. And she'd had Hagrid with her.

"You've come this far," he said, his voice darkening.

"It really wasn't that far. Just from the castle to here," she said lamely.

"Hermione, I really need you to come." She could hardly make out his face in the dark but his voice sounded severe.

Hermione gritted her teeth and walked into the forest ahead of him. He grinned behind her and followed. Good people were truly too easy to manipulate.

They walked on for what seemed like an hour, Hermione still furious and Tom still eager with anxious anticipation.

"How much deeper do we need to go?" she implored before something made her stop.

Hermione froze, perking up her ears. She heard whimpering as though an animal were trying to break free of a trap.

She grabbed Tom's arm. "What is that?" she breathed and scanned the forest around her. The trees were so thick in this part of the forest she could no longer see the moon or stars. They had stepped off the main trail ages ago and they were relying on Hermione's wand light to guide their way.

He guided her farther ahead and suddenly, through the heavy branches, Hermione could see an opening in the trees. Straight ahead was a small, circular gap in the middle of the forest. Hermione was sure she had never seen this part of the forest before.

The whimpering had grown louder and more pronounced. Hermione's instincts kicked in and she walked ahead of Tom to try and see if she could help the poor animal. She stepped into the clearing and looked around. She nearly screamed.

Tied to a tree to the right of the clearing was what looked liked a middle aged man struggling to free himself. He was covered in filth and wearing ragged clothing, his hair, long and greasy, hung down into his face. Hermione gasped and rushed over to free him. She pointed her wand at his binds and he winced at the sight of it.

"No, I'm not going to hurt you," she insisted.

"Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's wand flew out of her hand and out of sight. Hermione gaped. Shaking in anger, she turned to Tom who had a wicked smirk on his face, twirling her wand in his hand...

"What are you playing at, Riddle?" she demanded furiously.

Tom stepped further into the clearing, the moon illuminating his face. The tramp recognized his captor and began to struggle more earnestly.

"HELP!" he shouted, desperate for anyone to hear him. Hermione could only imagine what kind of "fun" Tom had had with him to make him this horrified.

"Let him go!" she shouted at Tom, tears forming in her eyes.

He grinned more broadly still as he set down his bag in the middle of the forest's gap.

"I'm afraid not, Hermione," he said as he pulled out a cauldron that was certainly too big for the bag he was carrying. "After your little adventure the other day I'm afraid you proved yourself to not be the most reliable Horcrux."

A fire was lit beneath the cauldron. "I was concerned, to say the least, for why you might try and feed me that potion. Your motives may still be hidden but luckily I was wise enough to realize that you may have made me more vulnerable than I would like."

Hermione gazed at Tom with an expression of disgust. She turned from him and began to try and unbind the man from the tree.

"Don't do that," Tom said in a calm voice and flicked her own wand at Hermione.

She felt herself lift from the ground and rush through the air to the opposite end of the clearing. She landed roughly on the grass, now to Tom's left. Hermione scrambled to her feet. Tom was already stirring the contents of the cauldron with her wand. She watched in horror as he lifted up the sleeve of his robe and brought a silver knife to his skin. The gash he made along his arm was deep and long. Blood spilled over both sides of his arm into the cauldron. He didn't even flinch. Hermione felt light headed.

As soon as he decided he had added the proper amount, he ran her wand over the gash, the skin swelling and mending itself rapidly.

The tramp whimpered more loudly. Tom gave the man an annoyed glance and cast a silencing charm on him. The tramp continued to struggle soundlessly.

"Tom, what are you doing?" Hermione said, her voice unnaturally high in her fear.

"I am securing my immortality, Hermione," Tom said and undid his cloak. The snow around the cauldron had melted. "It has been threatened."

Hermione could feel heat radiating from where he stood.

Tom's cloak fell to the ground and he began to unbutton the shirt beneath his school robes. The locket glinted in the glow of the cauldron against Tom's bare chest.

He looked like a greedy boy in a sweets shop, his face was ecstatic and his eyes were wide. He lifted her wand and turned to the tramp.

"No!" Hermione heard herself scream and before she knew what she was doing, she was over to Tom, trying to force down his wand arm.

"Let go, you stupid girl!" he laughed at her. She struggled with him, trying to grab her wand from his hand. He ripped out of her grasp and pushed her to the ground. "Petrificus Totalus!" he shouted and Hermione's limbs froze together.

He waved Hermione's wand at her a second time and she was upright against a tree. He wanted her to see the show….

Tom gave her another smirk before turning his back on her to finish the muggle…

The muggle's mouth was open in a silent scream as Tom directed her wand towards the man.

"Would you like to see some fun before I finish him off, Hermione?" he questioned her mockingly.

Hermione could not shout her protest under the binding curse.

"No?" Voldemort asked. "I did already have some fun before I brought him here as you can imagine. He was stumbling around drunk in muggle London. He was asking for it really."

The man shook his head and struggled more violently.

"Really, it's rather lucky you sent me to the hospital wing, Hermione. I may never have run into the Gray Lady if you had not."

Voldemort was twisting Hermione's wand this way and that as though looking for the perfect angle.

"Of course I had the locket but what if I made it into a Horcrux too soon? What would I use the next time I needed to protect my immortality? It was too risky until I discovered another object of my interest, and I, the only one who knows where it is, will retrieve it."

The binding charm did not prevent tears from running down Hermione's cheeks as she silently pleaded she could be anywhere but here… she knew that he would create more Horcruxes and that was how time must play out… but she never wanted to be present for the ritual.

Voldemort looked over his shoulder at Hermione.

"And now I can counterbalance whatever you had planned for me. Whatever you had tried to accomplish by forcing that potion on me was done was in vain."

Voldemort turned back to the tramp and pointed Hermione's wand directly at his heart.

"Avada Kedavra!" he sneered.

Hermione felt as though the air in her lungs had rushed out of her mouth as she felt something fly past her. She felt an unpleasant shiver run up her spine and clenched her eyes.

She fought with herself for a moment before curiosity got the better of her. She opened her eyes and saw Tom removing the locket from around his neck. He lowered it into the glowing cauldron and the light became red, making Tom's face more sinister.

He lifted Hermione's wand and began to speak. Hermione could not understand what he was saying. She was sure it was a foreign language.

Then fire seemed to erupt from the cauldron and he leaned toward it, the deep red glow appearing to emit from his skin. He cried out and Hermione could see the locket among the fire.

Hermione blinked. For a moment she thought that there were two Toms standing in front of her. Hermione closed her eyes again, not wanting to see any more of the darkest arts.

She heard him gasping and heard the cauldron burning. Not even her curiosity could make her open her eyes at that moment.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the noises settled and she felt the air around her calm. She peeked open her eyes to see Tom on his knees at the foot of the now dark cauldron. She shivered. He still seemed to emit a dark glow as though he had embodied the contents of the potion. She prayed that he would be done with her now and let her go.

As though he had read her thoughts, he looked at her. If Hermione could move she would have sprinted through the trees, Gryffindor or not. His eyes were a solid red and the look on his face mirrored pure satisfaction with what he had just done. He rose to his feet. Hermione saw he was wearing the locket. His robes and shirt were still open and it appeared to cling to his bare chest.

He lifted her wand at her and she felt the body bind lift. She collapsed to the ground, shaking. She was frozen to the spot.

Hermione gasped for air and stared up at him in horror. She did not know how to handle this Tom. This wasn't Tom at all. Not even close. It still looked like Tom… the same aristocratic face, the same body, the same movements… but as he approached her, static snapped in the air with power that she had not known the previous Tom possessed.

The locket hung from his chest, clinging to it even as he leaned over Hermione. His ring felt hot against her skin as he gripped her arms and pulled her up toward him.

"Hermione," he whispered in her ear.

She couldn't speak. She could not find her voice but could only breathe in the energy that hung around him.

"Hermione, did you love me?" he asked. She looked into his red eyes. His grin looked like one of a mad man.

She tried to pull away.

He laughed. Hermione felt her blood freeze. His laugh was so cold…

"Please!" she begged, desperate to get away from him.

He laughed again cruelly, the third splitting of his soul having ripped away another ounce of his humanity.

He forced her back as she continued to protest. His touches felt like electric shocks.

He didn't bother with kissing her lips. He bit her neck hungrily and moved down her body. Hermione didn't feel any need in his actions, only aggression and possessiveness.

She shuddered under him as he began to undress her, using his wand to make a slit in her robes and pulling them aside. He needed to possess all of his Horcruxes tonight.

Hermione could hardly suppress a moan when she felt his hand slide up her thigh. She heard his cruel chuckle again as he moved his body on top of hers. She shuddered, the Horcrux and potion affecting her more than she realized.

Voldemort was heady with power as he looked down at his Horcrux. She was more his than she realized.

He thrust into her and heard her gasp in pain and pleasure. It was so different from the first time because she was no longer a virgin. And he was not concerned with losing control this time.

He moved into her, breathing against her neck as she writhed beneath him. Hermione arched into him, forgetting who he was and why she shouldn't be enjoying this.

He never slowed his pace but continued to thrust into her. He filled her… his scent, his body, his power. He intoxicated her.

He growled into her ear, not wanting her to forget where she was and who she was with,

"Who is doing this to you?"

Hermione was sensitive to every movement he made. She opened her mouth to speak but groaned as he pushed into her again.

"Answer me," he ordered, digging his nails into her hips.

"Y-you," she breathed. She wrapped her legs around him to bring him closer to her.

"Who am I?" he demanded as he brought her closer to the edge.

She threw her head back and he thrust deeper into her. Through the fog she knew what name he wanted to hear. She held back as best as she could.

He nipped her neck eliciting a gasp from her.

"V-Voldemort!" she said and she clung to him, wanting to feel that he was not the Voldemort she knew in her own time.

She felt him grin against her neck and raise himself up for a better angle. His locket was now dangling between them, brushing between Hermione's breasts.

"Tell me you're mine," he commanded

She felt like crying and moaning in pleasure at the same time. He had completely engulfed her senses.

"I'm yours," she breathed as she felt her muscles tense. She could feel his hunger, his pleasure pounding inside of her as his soul, combined with her body, was enraptured with being this connected to him.

She bucked against him in ecstasy. She heard him groan and tense shortly after as he plunged into her a final time and came.

He collapsed on top of her and she clung to him as she slowly came down from her high.

Hermione felt him move off of her and she shivered as the cold night air hit her. He stood and she watched him, her stomach fluttering unpleasantly. He raised her wand at her and she recoiled instinctively.

He laughed and she felt her robes mend and cover her. She shakily rose to her feet, spots doting her vision.

"Go back to the castle," he ordered, tossing her her wand. "I'll take care of things here."

Her eyes widened and she looked over the clearing, the evidence of what he had done still surrounding them.

She looked back at Tom, meeting his eyes. They were as red as ever as he watched her in mirth. She backed away from him and turned on her heels and ran back through the forest towards the castle, not wanting to think about the consequences of what had just happened.