Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, this is just for funsies.
AN: I want to thank you all for your patience as 2017 has been rife with sickness, both for myself and my twins…we're all feeling better now (fingers crossed it stays that way!) so I wanted to get Chapter 4 out there for you all…I have 7 WIP fics, and I am trying to alternate through the updates, so bear with me! I know many of you are reading my other fics too, so I don't expect that will be a problem ;)
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Hermione woke with a start, and two things became instantly clear; first, that she was not in her own bed, judging by the green satin sheet that was currently draped over her hip, and second, that she was naked.
She looked over to the other side of the bed and blew out a relieved breath to see that it was empty. Her relief however, was short lived, when memories of the night before came back to her.
Tom had carried her back to his room after giving her an admittedly, incredible orgasm in the prefect's bathroom. He had laid her down on his bed, and between her overwhelming exhaustion over the events of the previous 24 hours, and the softness of his sheets, she had fallen asleep quite without meaning to.
Just as she was pondering why he had allowed her to stay the night, she heard a door open and looked up to see him striding out of his bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Oh, you're awake." He said with a smirk, staring pointedly at her chest.
She looked down in confusion and realized belatedly, that she was not wearing a shirt, and she quickly grabbed the sheet and covered herself with a scowl.
"I don't recall taking my clothes off last night." She spat, trying desperately to not stare at the water droplets that were trailing enticingly over his lean body.
"No, I don't expect you would. You fell asleep nearly instantly, and you see, I cannot abide scratchy material against my skin so-" he began to explain
"Wait, you took my clothes off?" Hermione spluttered indignantly.
"Yes, Hermione, I did. I sleep nude, and as long as you're in my bed, so shall you." He said raising his eyebrow at her in challenge.
She scoffed at his commanding tone, and asked the more pressing question, "Um…did anything…happen?"
It was Tom's turn to scoff, "Hermione, if you think I need to resort to taking advantage of an unconscious woman in my bed, you are sorely mistaken." He said in a manner that sounded almost as if he was offended by her insinuation.
She breathed a sigh of relief, but before she could respond, he smirked and added, "Besides, I much prefer it when you beg."
Ugh. What a prick.
"It really is shocking that you don't have a girlfriend." She said sarcastically as she shimmied off of his bed, careful to keep the sheet tightly wrapped around herself while tying it in a knot to hold it together.
"Who said I didn't?" He shot back, crossing his arms over his chest as her eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh? I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear that you had a strange girl in your bed last night, then." Hermione said mirroring his stance.
Tom chuckled at her concealed threat, and took a step towards her, "Well, considering she's standing in front of me right now, I hardly think she minds."
Hermione's mouth dropped open at his words, "You can't be serious, Riddle. What part of 'I hate you' don't you understand?"
"I think you'll find, my Dear Hermione, that there is a thin line between love and hate." He said as he leaned in close enough to brush his lips against the shell of her ear, smirking knowingly as she shuddered in response.
"You're delusional if you think for one second that I want to be in any kind of a relationship with you." Hermione said with more confidence than she felt as her hand accidentally brushed across his heated skin.
He reached out slowly and pulled the sheet loose from her haphazard knot, the corner of his lips twisting into a knowing smirk when she didn't make any move to stop him, and watched as it fell to the floor, pooling at her feet.
"Oops…" he said with faux sincerity.
It was his turn to be surprised then, when instead of crying out in righteous indignation and sprinting as fast as her short legs could carry her through the mirror, a slow devious smile formed on her lips. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth as she moved closer to him, allowing one of her hands to skim over his stomach, releasing the towel from his waist, before moving up over his chest. Just as his head dipped to capture her lips, he felt one of his legs kicked out from under him and he fell backwards landing in an armchair. Before he could make any move to rise or summon his wand, she muttered a wandless, Incarcerous, effectively binding him to the chair with a look of shock on his face.
A wicked smile formed on her lips as she leaned down to whisper in his ear;
"Oops…"
She stood back up and smirked at him before summoning her clothes and stepping back through the mirror.
She was still chuckling at the angry look on his face, and the incredulous tone of his voice as left, "Hermione! Get back here! This isn't funny…Hermione!" .
It was Sunday, so she took her time showering and getting dressed, a little surprised that he hadn't summoned her right back using their magical link. If she were honest, the fact unsettled her a little, wondering if his plan was to make her sweat it out. She knew that sooner or later, he would have his revenge, but right now, she was determined to savor her small victory over the not-quite-yet Dark Lord.
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"You look much better today." Harry said at breakfast as he eyed her critically.
"I am feeling much better now. Just needed sleep is all." Hermione said dismissively, "Would you mind passing me the Prophet?"
Ron pushed his copy of the Daily Prophet towards her that he hadn't bothered to open as he dug into his breakfast. Hermione watched him for a moment, and wrinkled her nose in distaste at his poor manners before she unrolled the scroll.
Her spoon clattered back into her bowl of porridge as soon as her eyes scanned the front page:
Secret Wife of He Who Must Not Be Named
She grasped the paper with a white knuckle grip and read the article in record speed.
A Source within the Department of Magical Families, who has asked to remain anonymous for obvious reasons, has come forward recently with a shocking revelation that The Dark Lord, also known as 'He Who Must Not Be Named' had secretly taken a wife in his younger years. The source has agreed to give this exclusive story to the Daily Prophet. According to the source, a never-before-seen certificate of Marriage has turned up within the Ministry's archives that reveals a ritual binding ceremony took place in 1944 between a young man, one Thomas Marvolo Riddle, and a young woman of the same age. Tom Riddle, once a Hogwart's Head Boy with a promising future, went missing sometime in 1955, around the same time that He Who Must Not Be Named rose to power and began to terrorize the wizarding world. Many have long since speculated that Tom Riddle and the Dark Lord are one in the same, one such Wizard is the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, who has been very outspoken on the matter. Unfortunately, The Headmaster declined to comment on this startling discovery, saying only that he could not fathom what The Dark Lord's motives for doing such a thing would be. Unfortunately, due to the confidentiality of wizarding records, the name of Tom Riddle's mystery wife cannot be revealed.
"Hermione, are you alright? You look ill…" Ginny asked noting how pale she suddenly looked
"Oh, just feeling a bit under the weather." Hermione answered, quickly folding the paper up and shoving it into her bag.
Ron interrupted then with his mouth full of food, "That's rotten luck, we were planning to go to Hogsmeade today."
Hermione held her hand over her mouth to keep herself from gagging before she answered, "I think I'm going to lie down for a bit; if I'm feeling better later, I'll meet you there." Before she abruptly stood and left the Great Hall.
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As soon as she was back in her room, she began pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. This wasn't good; now everyone would be trying to figure out the identity of the woman who was crazy enough to marry the Dark Lord. Thankfully, the Ministry hadn't released her name due to confidentiality reasons, but surely it was only a matter of time.
It hadn't even crossed her mind that the Voldemort of her time would have Tom's memories.
She shuddered.
Her next thought made her panic even more; did he too have the magical tattoo? If so, he would be able to summon her…
No sooner had the realization hit, she felt a tugging sensation behind her navel, and she blacked out.
When consciousness flooded back to her, she opened her eyes and found that she was in a dark room lying in a large mahogany bed adorned with Black silk sheets. There was a fire blazing in the hearth, and the room was tastefully furnished.
"Welcome home, wife." A high pitched cold voice said that instantly shot a chill down her spine.
She gasped in surprise when he stood from one of the large chairs by the fire and turned to face her. His countenance was just as horrifying as Harry had described; he was deathly pale, with only slits where his nose should be, and his hate-filled eyes were the color of blood.
"Voldemort." Hermione said, willing her voice not to shake as she said his name.
His lipless mouth curved into a grotesque mockery of a smile, "Still defiant, as ever, I see."
She remained silent, instead trying to feel for her wand.
"Looking for this?" he said as he held her light vine wood wand between his long bony claw-like fingers.
"What do you want?" she asked, hoping that if she could keep him talking that she could figure out a way to escape before he chose to end her life.
"What do you think I want?" he asked in amusement, as he watched the blood drain from her face.
"Oh…" she said as her eyes widened with dawning horror, "I'm…ah...I'm on my…my period, actually." She lied hoping he wasn't into that sort of thing.
Voldemort frowned in confusion, and the look on his face would have been comical if she wasn't in the middle of a life threatening situation.
"I have no interest in touching a mudblood" he spat in disgust, seemingly shocked that she would suggest such a thing.
On the one hand, she was extremely relieved about that, but on the other, extremely offended; as if he had any business insulting others when he walked around looking like that.
Against her better judgement, and her common sense, she snapped, "Well, that's a relief, seeing as I have no interest in allowing a nose-less, reptilian-looking Bigot to touch me in the first place."
He moved quicker than she could've anticipated and grabbed her roughly by the hair, pulling her to her feet.
"Careful how you speak to me, or I shall cut out your tongue." He threatened, enjoying the way she shrunk away from him in fear.
"Now, I shall ask you one more time, Hermione, what is it that I want?" he asked in that deceptively calm voice.
Hermione swallowed thickly, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking, "To rid the world of people like me."
"Well, that goes without saying," he chuckled coldly as he lifted a bony finger along her cheek, "But there is one thing I want above all else, and you my dear, are going to get it for me."
Her mind swirled and she felt like she was going to be sick.
"I'll never betray Harry, I'll never give you what you want!" she said feeling some of her Gryffindor courage returning to her.
Voldemort laughed a cold high pitch laugh, "Oh my dear, Potter is the least of my concerns."
She furrowed her brow in confusion and her eyes widened as comprehension dawned on her.
"You want Tom." She answered in surprise.
"Very good, my dear. You truly are the brightest witch of your age." He said mockingly.
"What will you do with him?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Voldemort released his grip on her hair and folded his hands behind his back and went into what she liked to think of as 'lecture mode'.
"Gaining immortality has its drawbacks. While it is true that I cannot die in spirit, my body is not immune as such; as you can see," he said sneering as he gestured to his current body, "Dark magic can only do so much in the creation of a physical body."
"You want to take over his body." She said covering her mouth with her hand. Was there no depth he wouldn't sink?
"Precisely." Voldemort said with that same grotesque smile, giving her a glimpse of his crooked teeth.
"You're insane." She said before she could stop herself.
Voldemort's wand was at her throat before she could blink, "You have one week. If you do not bring him to me, I'll be forced to properly motivate you." He threatened, "One week." He repeated before felt her surroundings dissolving around her.