They were in the abandoned classroom each working on something for one class or another when Tom thought to ask. "Elena." Her head snapped up, eyes pulling out of the land of academia to refocus on him. "Have you ever had a prophecy about Grindewald?"
She looked taken aback, but answered promptly, "Not that I know of." The girl stared into the distance with her lower lip sucked into her mouth as she thought. After a moment, she said carefully, "I think, maybe I have." At his questioning brow, she continued, "My early prophecies? The ones drawn on the walls. I remember a man with fair hair and strange eyes. One was black and one was white. I remember because the walls weren't white, and I'd used so much of the color that flecks from my crayon were piled on the floor. There was one where he was amid this black swirl, just standing as it engulfed everything around it." She shook the memory from her head and turned her attention back to Tom. "I think it was him, from what I've seen in the Prophet. I haven't the faintest what it means."
Tom considered her and what she'd told him. He hadn't deemed anything other than his own rise to power important enough for the girl to prophesy, but that had clearly been a mistake. There was a Dark Lord currently on the move, and who knew what else was going on in the world or would happen that would warrant a vision.
"Have you had any other visions lately?" Elena shook her head, and he sighed. "I want you to tell me everything you can remember. Write it down and give it to me tomorrow. Every prophecy, mind you."
"Our agreement was only pertaining to those about you."
He stared at her baldly, caught between wondering at the audacity and amusement that she was finally showing a bit more fire again. "Not anymore."
Elena exhaled loudly but went back to her assignment.
His pet seer seemed a bit better, more like herself. While Tom appreciated the unhesitating obedience she'd developed and relished the way she quaked when he touched her, it was bad for his reputation to have his girl acting like a kicked puppy. Moreover, a part of him enjoyed her as she was. He'd found through trial and error that people who learned to obey were far more useful than those forced to submission.
Smirking as he thought of the way she'd felt beneath him on their little date, he swept his fingers up her arm, traipsing them down her back, over her side, to settle on her thigh. Elena stiffened, but didn't react otherwise.
He'd always had a gift for sniffing out truth, reading it in the eyes of others; Elena was no exception. For all her protestations, she found him attractive, just as nearly every other woman (and not a few men) who'd seen him since he hit puberty. She would eventually give in, even knowing how he thrilled in violence and subjugation.
As his followers finished their work and drifted out, his hand teased over the material of her skirt. He drifted higher, closer to her center, luxuriating in the warmth there. He rubbed small circles on what he could reach of her inner thigh, pressed tightly together as her legs were. He could tell the girl was nearing the end of her revisions, and he signaled to Nott and Avery that they should take their leave.
Elena looked up from her work as the two stood. "Done already?" she asked.
"Er, yeah," Alfred muttered. "I'm a bit tired. I'm at a good stopping place for the night." Nott nodded beside him.
"Oh, maybe I should get to bed as well," she said.
"Don't be silly." Tom pressed his palm into her leg. "I see at least three paragraphs that need revising, and this is due first thing in the morning."
Elena scowled at him before remembering herself, face smoothing into placidity. She nodded and turned to the two leaving Slytherins. "Goodnight, then."
As the door clicked shut, he waved to lock and ward it, and pounced on her, a hand in her neatly charmed curls even as the one on her leg danced up to hold the curve of her waist. "What—oh." His lips were on her throat, sucking just under her ear. He pulled back to study her red face and hazy eyes, then leaned forward to suck her bottom lip into his mouth. Tom had the urge to bite it every time she did, both to punish her for the tell and to taste the coppery tang often brought to the surface by the action. He was much harsher than she was herself and he leaned back with it still between his teeth until it was pulled taut. When he released it, it was deliciously plump and red.
He loosened her tie then, fingers wandering to unbutton her top while the navy and bronze silk lay limp and loose around her throat. When Tom slipped his hand over the top of one of her breasts, she came back to herself and tried to pull away. One hand was still in her hair and Tom chuckled darkly, tightening his fist to emphasize his control.
"Come now, doll. Aren't you enjoying yourself?"
Her wide eyes were caught between lust and panic. "We- we're in a classroom."
"I've ensured we won't be interrupted," he said, the hand not in her hair running over her forearm before encircling her slender wrist. Her dominant hand now captive, the panic threatened to overwhelm the lust. "Tch. Don't start squirming yet, love, we haven't even gotten to the fun part."
She vainly twisted her hand around in his grasp, her other planting itself on his chest to push at him. How the little creature thought she'd overpower him he had no idea. The hand in her curls tickled down her neck and pushed at her blouse before he lowered his head to nibble at the spot shoulder met throat. Her gasp was delightful, and he tugged at her bra to reveal one of her soft breasts completely, immediately sucking the peak into his mouth, teasing her with a swirl of his tongue, the hard edge of his teeth just sinking into the pliant flesh.
"Tom, you," she breathed, words coming slowly. "You have to stop."
He removed his mouth from her nipple with an audible pop, a trail of saliva breaking from his lips. "Why's that?" With her hair tangled from his fingers, her pale skin flushed to her chest, bottom lip swollen and clothes all askew, she looked wonderfully debauched. But her eyes held an irritating clarity that said she would insist on ending the night. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest, hands rubbing her forearms nervously.
Tom released her with disgusted sneer. "Go runaway to your tower, sweetheart. Keep yourself warm with the knowledge that your virtue is intact, and you're a good girl who doesn't let boys suck on your tits and feel you up under worktables." He rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion with his hand. "I'll just have to find relief elsewhere."
She started righting herself while he spoke, but froze at the last. "You're not going to…"
"What, not willing to fuck me yourself, but unhappy if I find another willing witch?"
Elena breathed a sigh of relief and he realized what she'd meant. "I told you, I only play with willing girls," he emphasized, stroking a finger down her cheek. "And don't you worry, pet. No one will know you left me wanting. I'll make sure to obliviate who ever I choose."
"Why would you do that?"
Tom's mouth twitched wickedly. "They usually realize a little late they're in over their pretty little heads." He stood, neatening his uniform. "You'll forgive me if I don't walk you to your common room this evening, but curfew is in half an hour and I need to get going if I'm to find someone to finish what you started."
Her jaw tightened and she nodded, and Tom swept out of the room.
Three hours later, he stalked into his dorm room with that sated feeling he could only get from sex and power. He strode toward a bed with a sleeping figure sprawled across it and tapped where the shoulder should be. "Rad." The figure started, waking with a groan. As Lestrange swam up from unconsciousness, Tom said, "I've left a present for you in the usual spot."
A lazy grin spread over the other's face. "Is it—"
"No." Tom rolled his eyes. "She's still playing the nun. It's that little Hufflepuff who's been after me. Hornby. Poor girl has had a hell of a night," he drawled. "She could use a little comfort."
Lestrange nodded and that glint of cruelty was already in his eyes. "How bad off is she?"
Tom shrugged. "She'll need a little healing before you send her off to bed, in addition to repairing what ever damage you do."
"And what should I plant in place of the memories, my lord?" Always the polite one when his monster was being fed, Rad.
"Nightmares maybe. Horrific nightmares of being used by demons." Tom's eyes flashed red as he said it.