Warning for sexual content.
Hermione waved goodbye to Cynthia as she headed off to Hogsmeade. Hermione was prohibited from joining her friend on her trip due to her punishment. Hermione didn't mind very much, although she did need some new clothes and wouldn't mind some sweets.
Hermione turned from the trail leading to Hogsmeade and started walking to the castle. On her way she saw Abraxas, surrounded by Lestrange, Rosier, Yaxley and Dolohov. He nodded his head in her direction as a form of greeting and Hermione appreciated it. When Abraxas was with his friends he usually avoided approaching her, probably picking up on her not-so subtle dislike of the whole group. They were death eaters and so, they made her anxious. Quite hypocritical, considering her recent snogging of Tom Riddle, who was a much worse person morally. Hermione entered the castle, heading straight to the slytherin common room.
Hermione had been ignoring Tom for the last couple of days. She just didnt know how to talk to him. They had kissed and it was a big deal to her. And she liked him, she liked his presence and his company and it was wrong. Hermione was a traitor, admitting to liking Tom Riddle. What kind of horrible person betrays their best friends, and everything they believe in?
She wished that things were different, that in an alternate reality, she had met Tom Riddle in her own time at Hogwarts, in a war-less world. She wished he wasn't cruel and merciless. But he was. And reality was just that, harsh and unforgiving. It doesn't matter how much good Hermione has done or how kind she was, the world still punished her, still tested and challenged her.
Hermione entered the Slytherin common room, assuming it would be empty as most of the school had gone to Hogsmeade. And it was almost empty, the almost being Riddle. He was lounging languidly on the couch near the fireplace, reading the Art of War - the muggle book she had given him. Tom didn't lift his head or acknowledge her presence in any way and so Hermione assessed him. She watched as read with a rapt eagerness, eyes scanned the pages at a quick pace, flipping the pages every few minutes. There's just something about watching an attractive man read that turned her on. Tom bit his lip and furrowed his brows at the pages. Just then, Hermione wanted nothing more than to march over to him and snog him senseless. But instead she crept forward, quietly making her way to her dormitory.
"Why have you been ignoring me?" Riddle spoke coldly, his eyes still focused on the book. Hermione froze mid-step. Denying his claim would be futile, only angering him further. "Because I don't like you. And what happened on the roof was a mistake." She answered simply, unsure if she truly meant her words. She did mean them, in a way, the kiss was certainly a mistake. A very pleasurable mistake. And in a lot of ways, Hermione didn't like Riddle. In fact, there were so many things that she hated, things that she could never change.
"See, I don't think you regret our kiss, in fact it seems you rather enjoyed it, if your moans were anything to go by. But your disdain for me is quite evident. I want to know why" His voice was monotone and unforgiving, with a cold sort of detachment that brought shivers down her spine.Tom's gaze remained relentlessly on the yellowed pages of the tattered novel she had given him. It irritated her to no end, like she was so insignificant to him that talking to her didn't warrant eye contact. The silence stretched and she didn't answer him. What could she even say? That he had tortured her? They both knew that she didn't like him before that incident. And what bothered her most was that he was correct, she didn't regret the kiss, despite it being a mistake.
The tension in the air was almost tangible, and it suffocated her. The silence was broken by Riddle.
"Why aren't you registered? Why are you lying to everyone and how do you know so much about me? There's so many unanswered questions about you, Hermione, and I'm not a patient man." This time, his voice was laced with a disturbing cold fury and his dark gaze dragged itself from the book to her. It was so unnerving that she inhaled a shaky breath and her entire body tensed. Riddle placed an expensive-looking bookmark between the pages and closed the book, placed gently on the coffee table at his side. Hermione was stupidly glad that he didn't dog-ear the page.
Tom's ankles uncrossed as he stood from the couch. He stalked toward Hermione in slow graceful strides, looking so much like a lurking snake in the grass, ready to strike at its prey. His strides only stopped when he was inches away from her. So close that they're shoes touched and his cold breath fanned her face. Hermione was determined not to back down from him, she was supposed to be a brave Gryffindoor. She was supposed to be courageous in even the most dangerous of situations. But despite standing still and not backing away, she still trembled at his proximity. Tom's elegant hand reached up to stroke her cheek and jaw. His caress was gentle, filled with a sort of fondness that made Hermione woefully confused. How could he touch her so gently, kiss her so sensually and laugh with her so freely, and still be the same man that brings about the destruction of the wizarding world.
Tom regarded her thoughtfully, searching her eyes for something. Hermione immediately strengthened the Occlumency shield surrounding her mind. And when he plunged into her mind, she pushed him out with as much force as she could muster. Tom made an infuriated grunting sound and exhaled sharply in exasperation. He continued stroking her face softly. Tom smelled so intoxicatingly good, like parchment and ink and sandalwood and freshly brewed coffee. Tom's lips parted and she braced herself for his next words.
"I will find out your secrets Hermione" Riddle spoke in a chilling whisper. He leaned forward slightly so that his warm soft lips brushed briefly against hers. More. Hermione wanted more of him. Of his lips on hers, of his scent clouding her mind. Just a bit more. "Whether you're telling them to me while I pleasure you or screaming them at me while I torture you" The words were spoken against her lips, the sound almost swallowed by her mouth pressed against his. But she heard them loud and clear. The thought of him pleasuring her, unfortunately took up most of her mind. Hermione's lips were tingling and desire pooled in her abdomen. She captured his mouth with hers, sucking on his plump lower lip. His hand was on her jaw, the other circled around her throat, squeezing ever so slightly. Tom took control of the kiss, tilting her head and teasing her mouth. He parted her lips with his tongue and ran it against her teeth, licking at the inside of her mouth in such an erotic way that her panties were instantly drenched. Hermione moved closer to deepen the kiss, but didn't get the chance. Tom pushed himself away, his gaze heavy with lust. Tom gave her throat another light squeeze. "Answer me." His voice was deeper than usual, laced with a raspiness that made her knees weak.
Hermione had to take a step away from him, he was much too close for her to form a proper sentence. She took a deep breath and looked him directly in his eyes. Eyes so dark that the pupils were indistinguishable from the irises.
Tom Riddle was a frightening man but Hermione…she had nothing left to lose. And that made her foolishly reckless. "No. Do whatever you want to me, but I'm not telling you anything. I never will."
Tom's entire demeanour shifted, his relatively relaxed posture tensed and quicker than a blink of the eye, he had her shoved against the nearest wall, his wand hutting into her neck. Hermione's back pressed harshly against the stone walls of the common room and she instinctively gripped her wand and pressed it against Riddle's torso. The war had strengthened her reflexes exponentially and no matter how quick he was, she would be quicker.
"Who are you to deny me? You have no idea what I'm capable of, and if you have even a sliver of self-preservation, you will open that pretty mouth of yours and spill all your secrets." His chillingly cold tone made goosebumps erupt on her skin. All she could think about was kissing him again. She should be thinking about protecting Ron and Harry and the Order. But her lust-addled mind could only think about how sinful his lips felt on hers and how delicious it was when his body was pressed against her.
"I do know what you're capable of and I don't care, I won't tell you." Hermione was reminded suddenly of the time Bellatrix had tortured her. She never gave in, and even went as far as lying to the deranged witch. Hermione knew that she might not be as brave as Harry, she preferred logic and plans to unwavering bravery. But Hermione never backed down from a challenge. And she wouldn't now.
/
Tom was incensed. The burning desire to know all of Hermione's secrets had not quelled, not even dulled since he had met her. The closer they became, the more questions he had. Questions that she will not answer. It enraged him, her bravery and resistance. No one had ever stood up to him this way, even those who did not suspect him of any nefarious deeds respected and obeyed him. Hermione was such a disrespectful witch in the face of obvious superiority and it made his blood boil. "You will," Tom seethed. His wand was still jabbed into the fragile skin of her neck. He yearned to hex her, to hurt her. He wanted to see her bleeding on the carpet of the common room, begging for the pain to stop. Oh how satisfying it would be, to see this confident, fearless and powerful woman kneeling before him. To hear her pain-filled whimpers and see tears in her eyes as she answered every single question he had. It made him almost as satisfied as disgusted. The image brought just as much contentment as it did displeasure. It made him smile just as much as it made him sick to his stomach.
He knew, however reluctantly, that he considered Hermione a friend. And so, it made sense that he would feel protective of her. And if anyone ever hurt her, they would not survive come the morning. Only he could hurt her. Only he was allowed to. She was his to admire, his to kiss, his to spend time with…and his to hurt, as he saw fit. So why did he want to throw up the coffee and toast he had at breakfast? Why did the image of her in pain make his heart beat faster and his palms sweaty in fear? Surely these were not normal feelings in friendships?
How do people ever bring themselves to care about another person if this is how that care manifested. What a disgusting feeling. It took a lot of self-awareness and courage to admit to himself that he cared about Hermione. Caring makes people vulnerable. And vulnerability makes people weak. He knew that because often, he was the one that extorted those vulnerabilities, that took advantage of those weaknesses. A lot of these weaknesses were intertwined with desires. In regard to his followers, some desired power but didnt know how to attain it, some desired riches, some desired confirmation of their beliefs and some desired the change of the world - in their favour of course. Tom took all these desires and twisted them into what he wanted. He made empty promises of wealth and power, manipulated his followers into trusting in his ability and teaching them to both fear and respect it. It was how he controlled them, how he made them do his bidding - through their weaknesses.
Everyone had a weak spot. And it seemed Hermione was his, because instead of cursing her he kissed her.
Hermione made a startled yelp when he leaned forward and captured her mouth in his. Tom licked and nipped at her lips but Hermione refused to open up for him. The hand that was not pointing a wand at her neck traced the sides of her body. His hand reached the edge of her sweater and slipped underneath to caress the warm skin of her torso. Hermione gasped slightly but it was enough for Tom to push his tongue inside the warm cavern of her mouth. Oh Merlin, she tasted so sweet. "Good girl" He murmured against her, his voice was husky in his lust and she whimpered.
Hermione's wand was still jutting into his side, and her grip was not relinquished even in their sinful dalliance. It made him proud, his smart little witch. She knew not to trust him, even when his tongue was shoved so far down her throat and his hands roaming every inch of her body.
Hope you liked this chapter, its a bit longer this time! Let me know how you feel about it. And also if you want me to speed up their relationship, idk if this is too slow or not.