Warning for sexual content.

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Tom did not expect Hermione to kiss him, but she did.

Her lips pressed against his and she tilted her head slightly to kiss him deeper. Tom cupped her jaw with one hand, while the other wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer to him. Tom's tongue traced Hermione's lower lip, sucking and biting. They parted enough for Tom to slip his tongue inside. He moaned deeply. Tom couldn't get enough of her taste. She tasted like everything good in the world. He wanted more. He wanted her closer. Hermione's tongue was in his mouth, tracing and exploring. It made him dizzy with lust. He tilted her jaw, deepening the kiss further. Hermione's hands were in his hair running through them and pulling. The sounds of her whimpers and keens made his trousers feel unbearably tight.

And then she pulled away. Her lips swollen and pink and Tom wanted nothing more than to kiss her again. "I'm - uh…i'm sorry" Hermione stuttered, breathing heavily and pulling further away. The warmth her body provided was gone, leaving him cold. Tom's arm was still around her waist and so, he pulled her forward again. He moved closer, until his forehead was pressed against hers."Don't be sorry. I want to kiss you more than anything. Let me." his lips brushed against Hermione's with every word he spoke. The air was thick with desire, Tom could feel it surrounding him, suffocating him. Hermione made a little sound - a cross between a moan and a whimper - which Tom took as the cue to part Hermione's lips with his own. She kissed him back fiercely, sucking and licking at him in a way that made him painfully hard. It felt so good, he never wanted to stop kissing her. Hermione smelled like books and a warm fireplace on a cold rainy night. Her skin was soft and delicate under his touch, and he wanted more. So much more. He wanted to touch her in places no one ever had before.

Hermione let out a throaty sound when Tom sucked on her tongue. He imagined all the other places he could kiss and suck, what noises would she make then? Would she scream or moan?

/

Tom was kissing her like he had done it a million times before. Like he could make a living just from kissing. The kiss was filthy, deep and so sensual that liquid heat pooled in Hermione's lower abdomen. He smelled so intoxicatingly good, she couldn't get enough. And he touched her so gently but so possessively that her knees buckled. Tom's hand was now tangled in her hair and the other caressing her jaw, tilting her head wherever he wanted it. He was also vocal when he kissed, moaning and groaning every so often. She loved it. The way he kissed, it was like he was fucking her mouth.

Suddenly, his lips pulled away from hers and Hermione mourned its loss. And then, he kissed along her jaw and down her neck until he found a spot he liked. And he sucked. Wet, open-mouthed kisses on her neck. Sucking and nibbling on the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder. Hermione moaned and panted and her panties were now completely soaked.

Tom pulled away momentarily and rearranged their positions so that Hermione was on his lap, straddling him. Then he continued his assault on her neck. Hermione felt his erection against her and hesitated slightly before rocking her hips against it, Tom let out a loud throaty groan as he pulled away from her neck "Fuck, Hermione." He was breathing heavily and his eyes were dark and hungry as they looked at hers "Do that again" She did. Tom brought his hands to her hips and controlled her movements. Rocking her against him. His clothed erection nudging into her crotch with every motion. It was thick and hot and it felt so good pressed against her most sensitive place.

"We should…we should s-stop" Hermione wanted to continue so badly, but the rational part of her brain told her that they were on top of a roof and this situation was inappropriate. This was Tom Riddle, this wasn't Ron or Viktor. She shouldn't be doing this. Hermione climbed off of Riddle and sat next to him staring at the mountains ahead, in a dizzy lust-filled haze.

The silence was tense and awkward and heady. The realisation of what they had done hitting them both full-force. "I'm just gonna…go" Hermione mumbled uncomfortably. Tom didn't answer, or look her way. He just stared ahead with a confused and thoughtful expression on his face. His normally perfect hair was tousled, sticking up in all different directions, and his lips were swollen and wet. He had never looked so pretty.

The air was thick with tension. Oh Merlin, this is so awkward. Hermione scrambled down from the roof and onto the balcony in the tower, rushing to find solace in her dormitory. Lying on her bed, Hermione's mind whirled. She just kissed Tom Riddle. She kissed Voldemort. How did she let that happen?. And what's worse was that she liked it. Well…more than liked it. He had just been so honest with her, and her hand was holding his, and he didn't care that she was a muggleborn, and he was being really sweet. and she just couldn't help it…she kissed him. And gods did she want to do it again.

But she couldn't. No way. Hermione wasn't stupid, despite her stupid decision, she was not going to forget what Riddle has and will do - and who he was - just because he said some pretty words. He had tortured her for fucks sake, had ruined her life, and had killed innocent people. So, how could she even think about going back on the roof and kissing him so hard his lips will bruise.

But he hasn't done those things yet. How could she judge him on things he hasn't done.

But hermione knew he will do them, she knew from the hungry look on his face while reading about the dark arts in the slytherin common room, she knew by the way he tortured her without hesitation and she knew…she knew that he wouldn't hesitate to kill her if she ever posed a real threat to his secrets. Tom was a bad person, she knew that so deeply. But at some moments, that fact slips out of her mind and she just enjoys his companionship.

Hermione really needed to get a hold of herself.

/

Tom didn't know what to think. He was still semi-hard in his trousers and his lips were still tingling. Hermione had kissed him. And then he kissed her. Tom had never kissed anyone before, he had never wanted to. But he wanted to kiss hermione. Oh merlin did he want to. Want was too tame a word. It was a fierce desire that made his chest ache.

Perhaps, he was just attracted to her. But that wasn't it.

He trusted her. It was why he told her about the orphanage, and why he had stopped pretending with her. He even sort of confessed to murder, even though she almost definitely already knew, much to his curiosity.

Tom realised reluctantly that she was his friend. His first true friend. And he liked being around her. He also…cared about her. It was a strange feeling to care about someone, but Tom wanted her to be safe. The thought made him uncomfortable.

Half of the week passed with Hermione acting skittish and awkward around him. They interacted very little in those few days. They checked on the potion periodically, sat next to each other in class and had detention together, but they didn't talk very much. He tried to, but Hermione was vague and dry when answering any questions he asked her. He hated it. And it was quite obvious, the irritation too intense to shove behind a facade. It was obvious enough that students would often ask him if Hermione was bothering him, people still believing in that foolish rumour that she was in love with him.

Tom just wanted her to talk to him. The past few days have been quite lonely, if he were being honest. It was a feeling he never minded before Hermione came into his life. It was a feeling he didn't have when she was around. And now…now that loneliness is back. That feeling was back because Hermione was ignoring him. Because his friend was not there. What a strange concept friendship was, a relationship where neither party gained anything from each other's company. Completely useless…and yet it dulled that horrid loneliness.

Tom had never made friends in his childhood, everyone steered away from him and honestly he preferred it that way. Children were disgusting tiresome creatures, he had thought that when he himself was one. In fact, he did not enjoy the company of people in general, they were all incompetent and ignorant…all except for Hermione.

Tom was an entirely solitary individual, preferring his own company to anyone else, but not anymore. He wanted to spend all day with Hermione…her presence was both relaxing and stimulating. She challenged him often, but she also maintained a comfortable silence when needed. And so, he needed to make her talk to him, in whatever way he could. He just wanted her back to how she usually was with him.

Her change in behaviour was displeasing and rather disrespectful. He wanted Hermione to be his to command, a follower, and to do that he needed to control her. Tom usually used fear or reverence to gain control of his followers. Neither of which would influence her. Hermione had little to no admiration for him - which often made his chest burn with cold fury - and her fear of him seemed to only make her braver.

It confused him, her fear. It was a different kind of fear from his followers. They looked at him in a similar way they would a dangerous animal. Like he was unpredictable. But Hermione looked at him like she knew everything about him, no matter how much she tried to hide it. And he couldn't, for the life of him, understand how.