Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or anything related to the works of J.K Rowling. I only own the plot and original characters you may notice as you read this chapter.

I do not have a beta to help with any errors in this chapter, or any of the other chapters you may read from this installment-so if you see an error that needs to be fixed let me know. I will try to fix it as soon as I can. I hope you guys are able to enjoy the chapter.

This story is rated "M"-and there is a sex scene in this chapter. You've been warned.

Thank you for reading this, and let me know what you think by putting a review.

October 31, 1943

Ophelia looked at her reflection in the mirror, incessantly she smoothed her palms over the fabric of her skirt. Her palms were sweaty. Her green eyes were paler than they usually were, but it wasn't exactly noticeable. She tried to calm down and collect herself, she kept looking at her reflection in the mirror...It didn't exactly help.

The chocolate haired teen sported a black, long sleeved turtleneck that gently hugged her form, a brown tweed skirt that stopped right above her knees, black knee high socks, and her yellow platform loafers.

Oh, Merlin. Ophelia panicked as she heard the girl's dormitory door slowly swing open. I'm not ready.

"Pipa!" Margo shouted gleefully, "Come on, you're missing the party!" The sound of music of wild chants flooded the girls' dorm room all at once.

Ophelia could have heard Peter's loud laugh somewhere in the common room where the party took place. Hufflepuff won the Quidditch match today, and as promised, a party was being thrown and everyone had one objective: get fucking wasted.

"I don't think I like how I look." Ophelia lied. She was stalling; she knew she was stalling.

Margo stepped into the room, closed the door gently behind her; took on good look at Ophelia and laughed at her friend. The pure-blooded witch wore a pale fuchsia swing dress with a boat neck cut, she had fuchsia pumps to match.

"Pipa," the platinum blonde giggled, "You look downright fit." There was a slight hint of firewhisky in Margo's breath.

Ophelia forced a smile to her face. "I just-I-I don't think I feel like going down to the party tonight."

Margo wasn't listening. Instead she walked up and grabbed Ophelia by the face and smiled a cute, drunken smile. "But Riddle's waiting for you down stairs, Pipa!"

A cold chill crashed over Ophelia and stayed in the pit of her belly; she pulled away gently from Margo. "No," Ophelia lied once more. "It's a party with a bunch of other people and houses, he could be waiting for any-."

"Oi, Pipa!"

Ophelia closed her eyes and sighed; the door violently swung open to reveal a tipsy Peter Elwood. He was wearing a clean Quidditch uniform, no cape was to be found draped on his shoulders. Peter swung a bottle of gin that was in his hand in the air as if he wanted to make a toast.

What in the bloody hell?

Both the girls arched an eyebrow at the drunken boy.

"Pipa!" Peter sang off key, "Riddle's downstairs. He asked me to fetch you." He brought the bottle of gin to his mouth and took a long sip. "That is all." Peter apparated down to the common room, Ophelia winced at the sound of a body crashing and breaking furniture. Peter was going to wake up sore and hung over tomorrow.

Margo grabbed Ophelia's wrist and excitedly skipped out the room; Ophelia was rather shocked by Margo's firm grip.

"Madness is in the air, Pipa. The best kind of madness." Margo whispered to her friend as she led Ophelia to Tom. Margo pushed through the crowds to deliver Ophelia to Tom. Ophelia tried latching onto the random members of the crowd-in hopes that one of them would snatch her away, and maybe casually ask her for a dance...Her luck didn't work that way,

Ophelia's heart pounded sporadically against her chest; her palms sweated; her eyes locked with Tom's...Her eyes widened in fear was she realize it was now just her and Tom….Tom and her...The lamb...and the slaughterer.

She wanted to scream out that Tom had used an Unforgivable curse! Every nerve in her body went cold as his eyes looked her up and down.

Ophelia let out a shaky stutter, "R-Riddle."

Tom looked down on Ophelia, he took note of the turtleneck she wore. He liked how the black fabric clung to her neck especially; though it complimented the rest of her figure as well.

At the back of his mind Tom always knew Ophelia was a girl and had parts that belonged to a girl, but it was rare to see her figure since it was always covered with a robe. Part of the truth was also, he never made a note to actually look at Ophelia.

Tom saw that the Hufflepuff felt uneasy as he stared at her. It's like watching the ugly duckling turn into the swan, he mused as a cruel half smirk pulled at the corner of his lip.

"Let's go." The Slytherin quietly walked out the door, he knew the Hufflepuff would follow after him.

Soon the two walked side by side. One was calm and confident. The other was reserved and quiet.

Tom look over at Ophelia as they walked in silence; he made no effort to be slick about it (he never pretended to be shy or gentlemanly or nice to her -no use in him starting to now). He was slightly pleased at the way Ophelia's skirt swayed as she walked with him.

A small part of him understood why Lestrange lusted after the half-blooded witch, but he scowled at the thought of Lestrange noticing Ophelia bloom long before he did. I've already put Lestrange in his place, Tom had to remind himself.

Ophelia snuck glances from the side at Tom. He wore a plain button up shirt and a pair of black slacks, but as always he was handsome. No amount of plain looking clothing would ever make him look less attractive.

He is handsome but he is cruel. Ophelia chanted that in her head as she found herself being led to the Slytherin's prefect room. He is handsome but he is cruel. He is handsome but he is cruel and he might hurt you.

Once in his room, Ophelia went over to his desk. A small drop of relief greeted her as Ophelia noticed the desk was still as tidy as ever.

Tom shook his head and barked a command at her. "No."

Ophelia's whole body became frigid as confusion became evident on her face. "No?" She arched an eyebrow at the young boy who looked intently on her from the edge of his bed. Ophelia took a deep breath in and tried to hold her composure. She was not going to be a sloppy mess-she was not going to risk herself getting hit with an Unforgivable curse. "Where would you like me?"

Those five words that flew out of Ophelia's mouth was music to the heir of Slytherin. "By me," he replied quickly. His voice was harsh and it had a certain implication to it.

Ophelia pretended that it was only the usual harness in his voice, nothing else. She sat on the edge of the bed with him; Ophelia kept her hands neatly folded in her lap. Her dull green eyes focused on the desk. She didn't want to look at him.

Tom didn't like that. "Look at me, Ophelia."

The half-blooded girl didn't move an inch.

"Ophelia," Tom said as he brought his hand to her chin and turned her face towards him. "It would be in your best interest to listen to me the first time." Tom brought his face close to her earlobe, "You promised to do whatever I said, remember?"

She nodded her head; Tom's hands still on her chin. "Yes, Riddle. I remember." How could have she forgotten?! Ophelia landed into this mess because she witnessed something she shouldn't have just yesterday for Merlin's sake.

Tom's lips brushed against the Hufflepuff's earlobes. "Do as I say, no protests."

She said nothing...He could have easily just started with or without a word, but a small part of him (maybe it was his mythed sense of humanity or the his rarely spotted sympathy) went on to make the half-blooded witch got his intentions. "Ophelia," Tom breathed out an irritated whisper. "Do you understand me?"

She knew, deep in the pit of her stomach she knew exactly what Tom was probably going to demand of her. A weird warmth flooded over her when she realized, in his own, twisted way, he asked for consent. The Hufflepuff opened her mouth, her thoughts and emotions conflicted greatly with what her body allowed her to say. "Yes, I understand you."

Gently Ophelia turned her head slightly, the action broke Tom's contact with her ear. Now their foreheads were pressed together; their lips were millimeters apart. Not once had it occurred to Ophelia that Tom would ever allow himself to be this close into her personal space.

Anyone with two working eyes could have sworn that in all the times Tom associated with Ophelia, it wasn't because he liked, liked her. But hey, who really knew? Maybe the two, as opposite as they were, did have a place in the other's heart?

No it was because Ophelia had something he wanted or needed-books, information, a personal secretary.

Now...He just wanted someone who wasn't the annoying Selene Sharpe (the plague that irked him beyond reason) and the Hufflepuff in his grasp fit the bill well enough.

Cold lips met with warm lips: one teen wrapped their arms around the other's tiny waist, while the other quietly snaked their hands around a rather thick neck. At first the kiss is plain, chaste.

The two teens pulled slightly away from each other, the kiss was innocent and it scared them.

Ophelia hoped that only one kiss is enough to save her, to slap her back into her right mind and realize that Tom is a cruel boy who uses Unforgivable curses. It did the opposite it: it made her curious for more.

The heir of Slytherin was stunned for a slight second; that witch did something to him. Ophelia, a girl with no pure blood made him feel something: the subtle twitch in his pelvic region is proof enough of that. Now he is just as curious too.

Tom moved into claim Ophelia's lips for a second time; he pulled her in closer, his grip on her waist tighter, and the scent of cinnamon engulfed him.

Ophelia gasped quietly at Tom's tighter hold on her; he seized this opportunity to snake his tongue into her mouth. The Hufflepuff rather liked that, she moved one hand away from the Slytherin's neck and placed it gently on his back.

The kiss grew deeper as their tongues explored the other's mouth; Ophelia felt her core get warm and fuzzy; Tom felt himself harden.

With a harsh grunt, Tom pulled his lips off of Ophelia, fresh air rushed to his lungs. "Not your first kiss, I take it?" He wasn't bothered at all if Ophelia snogged twenty or two men-he just wanted to know what else were those soft lips were good for.

"No," Ophelia hummed out. She was bothered and flustered-never would she have guessed Tom Riddle, the boy who constantly abused her in one way or another, was a good kisser. Her hands slowly trailed to the front collars of his white button up shirt, her hands were shaky. "Does it matter if this is my first kiss or not?" The chant about Tom being cruel is hazed by the moment.

A rude scoff escaped the male's mouth, but he doesn't answer the girl's question. Tom removed his hands from her waist and placed them on the girl's bum. He felt her tense but still, he left his hands there and went in for another kiss. Their tongues went back to eager exploration.

With his hands on her bottom and her hands gripped onto the collars of his shirt, they soon found themselves lying in the middle of bed.

Tom on top (of course.) His prey underneath him.

Ophelia with a surprisingly graceful movement, gently kicked off her platform loafers; then used her sock covered feet to get Tom's shoes off his feet-that wasn't so graceful. A little gasp of surprise hummed in her mouth as she felt something hard pressed on her as she finally got Tom's shoes off.

A guttural moan escaped Tom's mouth as Ophelia's legs caused friction between their bodies; her little hips brushed up against him so many times it almost felt like she was teasing him.

"You damn filthy witch," he hissed as his hands went down to the edges of her skirt. Tom went ahead and allowed his hand to go under the skirt; he felt the soft fabric of her undergarments.

Ophelia tried to keep her lips on his but the new sensation that bubbled between her legs made it hard to do so.

How wonderful, Tom thought as his fingertips reached for the rim of her panties; with no trouble he pushed them to the side. His pointer finger gently touched the outer lips of her womanhood; she was wet. He smirked at her natural reaction to being kissed and felt on.

"Ah," She moaned, embarrassed at him touching her more intimately. "What are you doing?" Ophelia was about to jump up but she felt his finger and how to started to circle around a very sensitive area.

"Shut up, Ophelia." Tom's voice was low but it wasn't the dangerous tone she heard for six years hearing...It scared her a little, she didn't recognize the tone. Then she remembered how she couldn't stop him.

"Riddle," Ophelia moaned as she felt Tom quicken the circular motion around her clit. She bit her bottom lip lightly; her back arched as she felt Tom press his hardened member closer to her opening. Even with his slacks on-she could feel him.

"What?" Tom's voice was distant. He couldn't help but look down at the girl pinned beneath him. Her hair was a brown and tangled mess, her hands were now gripped onto the bed sheets; moans frantically exited her mouth as he played with her….His blood boiled just boiled at the sight. "What," he asked again, "What, Ophelia?"

"Oh, Merlin," the girl sighs as the boy above pressed himself to her. "Riddle, that feels good."

Her heart drops and a startling realization pulled her out of her lusty haze-not once did she ever think the words: "Riddle, that feels good" would ever come out her mouth...but they just did! A red flush rushed to her cheeks. What is the world coming too?

Slowly, Tom pulls his finger away from the clit he played mercilessly with. She should be wet enough by now, he thought as he started to undo his trousers. He could feel the Hufflepuff tense up; he tried not give the girl too much space to move-just in case she did something too unpredictable. Tom's zipper flew down, the sound of it echoed through the room. Carefully, he managed to pull a fully erect cock out.

Pale green eyes widened at the sight, "Riddle-."

A sigh escaped Tom's mouth, he wrapped a hand gently around the girl's neck. "Ophelia…" He paused as if he wasn't completely sure of the next words out of his, but he finally said it anyways. "Drop the formalities-it's going to annoy me."

The Hufflepuff said nothing-a part of her was either too scared, too caught up, or too dumbfounded to say anything. Ophelia stifled back a moan as Tom's tip poked at her wet entrance; her panties still pushed to the side.

I bet she's tight, Tom thought as he pushed the whole length of his cock into her with ease. Much to his pleasure, he was right about the female being tight. A satisfied sigh is all he lets himself reveal to his partner in bed.

"Ooh," Ophelia moaned as she gripped tighter onto the bed sheets underneath her. Merlin, I am going to explode.

At first, the Slytherin's thrusts are careful and slow-he wanted to enjoy how tight her walls were around his engorged member. But soon his body kicked into it's own natural rhythm; Ophelia's moans were probably what got him going...Though how she bit her bottom lip and looked at him with eyes in a dazed state probably did it as well.

In a frenzy, Tom kissed her and she quickly responds with a kiss just as hungry as his. Tom slams himself in and out her; he practically pounded the girl deeper and deeper into his mattress; he reveled in how that in turn causes her to become even wetter.

"You filthy little thing," his whispered harshly to the Hufflepuff as his thrusts become faster and harder. Beads of sweat formed on his body; he felt hotter than usual-but maybe that is what happens when one doesn't take off all their clothes to engage in sex. "I should have known you liked it rough."

Ophelia let a light chuckle escape her mouth before she started to kiss and suck at the boy's neck; her legs wrapped around his waist and she easily adjusted to the intense pace Tom was set at. Her body was overheated as well-but no sweat dripped from her skin.

This isn't her first...Tom furrowed his brows but continued to pump into her-that slightly bothered him.

"Tom," Ophelia's voice was sweet and low-something new to him.

He didn't respond; he wanted to focus.

"Tom," Ophelia moan again. "Tom."

Bloody hell, he let out a breathless groan. "Ophelia," He breathed out carefully as he got lost in his pleasure, "what?"

The four words that slipped out of her mouth so easily they could have been a song- was Tom's undoing.

"I'm going to cum." Ophelia moaned loudly; she legs wrapped around Tom's waist tighter-it allowed him to go in even deeper than he imagined. "I'm going to-."

"Ah." Tom's own moan cut into her sentence-he released himself into her. "Ophelia," Tom groaned as he let his body go limp on top hers. Her body shuddered at what he had done; but she doesn't try to push him off of her.

Tom and Ophelia both silently wished that hadn't been so caught up in the moment-they'd would have been able to take their clothes off ,and then maybe their bodies wouldn't have felt spent and tired.

The two teens took slow and easy breaths as the haze of lust drifted out of their minds. Silence settled between the two as they began to piece the strange intimacy that they had part taken it.

For better or for worse: Tom Riddle and Ophelia Darwin greatly altered their dynamic.