A/N: Thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews!

I'm sorry I haven't been putting out this story faster, considering the shorter for me chapters. I just can't seem to get it together, what with RL and all.

Chapter Six

Tom pressed his head against the tile of the shower, one forearm braced against the wall above his head, and his other hand was wrapped around his cock as he slowly stroked himself. Panting in time with his pulls, he replayed that one scene in his head over and over; the night Hermione met him in the Forbidden Forest nearly one week ago.

Tom spun them around and pushed Hermione back against the tree that he had been leaning against and pressed his lips against hers. His heart beat faster and faster as her intoxicating smell invaded his nose, sending bolts of pure lust straight to his cock. He was thick and heavy against the restrictive zip of his trousers and all he could think of was her body wrapped around his. Desperately, he shifted his body flush against hers, letting the tree behind her hold her in place. Her soft body sweetly molded around his harder toned one. And it was absolute bliss.

He couldn't help grinding his erection into the soft curve of her belly even as he buried his hands in her wild curls, tilting her head back so that he had unrestricted access to her mouth, her lips, and that tongue. He was starved, deprived… He needed…

She hummed and slid her small hands around his hips and pulled him closer, impossibly closer. It bolted through him like lightning, pooling desire in his lower belly, turning his already hard cock into steel.

"Hermione," he murmured against her lips, her name more of a prayer than a whisper.

Smoothing one of his hands down over the curve of her face, he cupped her jaw and pulled his lips away, rubbing his thumb just under her lower lip, his other still buried in her hair. His body was still wound tightly, tense and wanting. She shifted against him, rubbing his erection deliciously which forced a moan from his throat.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked, chewing her already abused lower lip, her pupils blown wide with desire. His eyes were focused on them, her lips, which were a deep cherry red and plump from his kisses and her own teeth. He ran his tongue over his own lips, following the same exact path of his thumb under her abused flesh, noting with quite a bit self-satisfaction that his were in a similar state.

"Kissing you?" his mouth pulled up on one side with a cocky grin.

"Trying so hard to prove that everything I know is wrong,"

"If what you are saying about the future is true, then it's not what I envisioned for myself and I have this one amazing opportunity to become better."

"You want me to believe that you want to be a better person?" she asked dryly.

He chuckled and leaned back in, moving his hand from her face to her hip caressing every curve in between. Sucking her swollen lower lip into his own, he traced its outline with the tip of his tongue. "I'm encouraging you to use your prodigious brain and form your own opinions about me from the truth."

Hermione moaned, digging her fingers into his arse. He smirked against her skin as his kisses trailed over her jaw and down her neck. He found that she loved his lips and tongue in the cradle of her neck and shoulder. She shuddered beneath his mouth and he kissed his way back up the column of her neck, bucking his hips into her sweet body.

"I need," Hermione whined.

"What do you need, Hermione?" he asked quietly into her skin, his voice low and husky as sin.

"Oh Merlin," she groaned as his hand smoothed over her hips and grabbed the back of her thigh, helping her wrap her leg around his thighs. He wanted- needed more. He wanted to sink into her and never come out. He wanted the unending bliss that her body throbbed to give him.

His hand caressed the skin of her knee, running his fingers up higher and higher under her skirt, letting his fingertips skim the elastic of her knickers between her legs. He could feel the blood pound through his body, through his cock, in time to his sucking kisses behind her ear.

With a loud moan, thick white ropes of his release coated the tile of the shower surround and he rubbed himself until he was completely spent. He stood there a moment, panting, watching the water rinse away the evidence of his desire. He shut his eyes, desperately trying to forget the rest of that night but it played cruelly behind his clenched lids. Transporting him as if he was back in that clearing.

His probing fingers seemed to bring her back to earth. A mere few seconds passed before her hands were on his chest pushing him back. Tom froze before slowly dropping his hands from her sweet spot.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I can't," she choked. "This… I don't do this. This isn't me,"

"Hermione?"

"Let me go," she said. She had turned away, closed herself off from him, and he swallowed hard, feeling disappointment down to his very toes. He backed up, just like she requested and stood three feet away, his hands hanging limply at his side. His erection still out of control, tenting the front of his trousers painfully.

He stood there and watched as she ran from him back towards the castle.

And she hadn't acknowledged him since.

He still walked with her to meals, in the halls between classes, and to the library but he might have been invisible for all the attention she paid him, and it wasn't for the lack of trying on his part either. Where a light touch once made her immediately aware of his every move, now it seemed as if nothing he did could affect her.

Tom struggled with the feelings he was wholly unfamiliar with; his longing and desire for the one person who very well could be his equal. He wanted to fix this thing between them. He missed her. He missed being her entire world.

He opened his eyes and continued with his shower, thinking of ways to get her attention as he washed his hair and body. Today was the day that he would force her to see him again. A small hopeful smile curled his lips as a very promising idea came to him.

He rinsed quickly and exited the shower, dressing faster than he ever had before, and that included the uncomfortable years in Wool's just before he got his Hogwarts letter.

All told, he was out of the dorms for a meeting with the Headmaster and back, standing in front of the Slytherin common entryway exactly three minutes before Hermione. He watched as her eyes slid over and past him as if he didn't exist, although she did break stride for one whole second. Perhaps it wasn't much, but it gave him hope.

Tom stepped with her out of the common room and took her bag, as he did every morning.

"I wouldn't have put myself in so much jeopardy with Grindelwald if I knew things were going to end up this way," Tom said, barely above a whisper, so that just the two of them would hear. "I don't think you understand exactly what I did for you that night. I didn't force you into a magical avowal. I didn't require your fidelity. I destroyed the Horcruxes in good faith, to prove to you that I am not who you think I am. So why? Why are you shutting me out?"

Hermione bit her lower lip and couldn't hide the guilty as hell look on her face.

"I risked everything that night," he whispered. "And you left me the moment you had what you wanted."

"No," She choked out, looking at him for the first time all week. "It wasn't like that!"

"What happened then?"

"I've never," She started before stopping abruptly and clenched her teeth.

"You never what? Don't try to lie to me and say you never saw the destruction of a Horcrux before," Tom said drily.

"No, I've… I… I…" She blushed and looked down and lowered her voice even lower. So low, he had a difficult time understanding her. "I've never had a boy touch me the way you did. And I wanted it. So, so much. It scared me,"

Understanding lit Tom's eyes and a slow smile spread on his face. She ran away from him because she felt. He suppressed a chuckle and licked his lip, watching her avoid his gaze and blush. Suddenly, he felt the desire rush through his body, down to his toes. She must have been occluding harder than she ever had over the last week to make him believe there was nothing left between them for her.

With a twirl of his wand, a blood red rose grew, and he held it in front of her. A peace offering. "You don't have to be scared. Not of me,"

"You are Tom Riddle. There is no one else I should be more afraid of,"

"And here I thought we were making progress," He sighed, letting the hand with the rose fall to his side.

She plucked it from his fingers quick as lightning and brought the bloom to her lips, letting the silky petals glide over her hesitant smile. "We are," she whispered into the flower.

"Tom! Morning my boy," Slughorn boomed from somewhere behind them.

Tom pasted a genuine looking smile on his face, turned around, and said, "Morning Professor,"

"Oh ho!" Slughorn said noticing a blushing Hermione holding a very impressive transfigured rose. "Morning, Miss Dumbledore,"

"Good morning," she said, her blush deepening as the meddling professor began making approving eyes at Tom. Even going so far as to wag his brows.

"A wonderful morning for romance," he winked at Hermione and clapped Tom on the shoulder. Stepping around the pair of them, Slughorn made his way to the professor's table in the Great Hall, whistling the entire way.

"Mmmm… " Tom hummed as he walked to the Slytherin table and set down their bags. He turned and smiled at Hermione who was still standing near the door in a daze. She looked startled, staring. At him.

Finally.

He reached out for her, beckoning her to sit with him for breakfast.

The flurry of the owl post abruptly ended the moment they were having, and Hermione looked up, but he couldn't tear his eyes off of her. She was glorious, standing in one sliver of morning sunshine, admiring the owls.

"One of Hogwarts greatest traditions," Dumbledore said from behind Hermione. He may have been talking to his 'niece' but he was staring at Tom, a severe yet furious glint in his eyes. Tom walked over and stood next to Hermione, reflecting happily on Dumbledore's sour mood.

It had been the first time all week that Albus wasn't bouncing around twinkling as if he had just won a lifetime supply of woolen socks, and Tom knew that it was all because of the transfigured rose that Hermione still held to her face.

Tom smirked at Dumbledore, raising a single brow in challenge. Dumbledore's face darkened, and his nostrils flared in agitation, even as Hermione turned to look up at her 'uncle'.

"You call getting daily mail a tradition?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"We could have someone accept the post in the owlery and then hand them out to the appropriate recipient at meals. There is really no need to have the owls come to breakfast every morning," Albus explained, relaxing his face into the caring, doddering grandfather that most of the student body could recognize across a Quidditch field.

Tom wasn't fooled. Never has been. There was just something about Albus Dumbledore that set him on edge. It could have been the blatant anti-favoritism towards Slytherin house. It could have been that very first meeting when Dumbledore came to Wool's to give Tom his letter. It could have been every single year that the wizard left him at Wool's despite the horribleness of the place. But Tom knew better now, especially after meeting Hermione.

How long was Tom on Grindelwald's radar? Just how interested was Grindelwald in him? More than he ever was in Albus? And it was Tom who talked Grindelwald into ripping his soul apart, ruining him. Tom would bet everything he would ever have that Dumbledore hated him with a burning passion for being powerful, handsome, and just dark enough to draw attention. Grindelwald's attention. Hermione's attention.

"There would be less mess," Hermione agreed as she looked between Albus and Tom with narrowed eyes. She was smart, his Hermione.

"What are your plans for the weekend, Hermione?" Albus asked in an overly friendly tone, trying to shut Tom out completely.

"We are working on a project together, Sir," Tom said.

Hermione looked at him with a raised brow. "We are?"

"Aren't we? Weren't you the one that wanted raw data and facts? We are going to have to interview some people if that is what you want,"

"We can't leave Hogwarts during the school year,"

"We can with permission,"

"Permission that I am not granting," Albus said firmly.

"We already have permission," Tom said as he pulled a folded pass out of his robes, the large florid signature of Armando Dippet front and center. It truly paid to be the favorite, shining pupil of the Headmaster. Especially in this moment. If looks could result in flames, Dippet's pass would be ashes.

"Where were you thinking of starting?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Septimus Malfoy has invited the both of us for lunch tomorrow. I thought we would start there,"

"In Malfoy Manor?" Hermione asked dubiously.

"That is where he lives, yes,"

Hermione's teeth snapped shut with a click and Dumbledore perked up at the news.

"By all means, I would hate to put a stop to such important research," Dumbledore said to Hermione, still looking at Tom.

Tom refused to show his confusion at Hermione's harsh reaction to Malfoy Manor. But it was clear to him that Dumbledore knew something that he didn't. Tom wished he could sink into her mind and view the memory that scarred her so badly. With Dumbledore here and watching so closely, Legilimency was not an option. If he had to hazard a guess, he would say that at some point in her Horcrux hunting, she ended up at Malfoy Manor, and judging by her reaction, it was not a pleasant visit.

He dropped his voice and moved closer to her, placing his hand on her elbow. "If you want me to ask Septimus to meet us somewhere else, I will do so,"

She shook her head. "I'll go,"

"This isn't a big deal. If you don't want to go, we can figure something else out."

"No. I'll go,"

"If you are sure,"

"I am,"

"Wonderful," Dumbledore said, completely insincere. He was openly glaring at Tom now.

"Come on Dumbledore, leave the lovebirds to their lovemaking and get up here," Slughorn said, throwing another bawdy wink at Tom, making Tom wince. Luckily, Dumbledore was looking at the professor's table, Hermione was the only one to see it. She bit her lips, obviously trying very hard not to laugh.

She booped him on the nose with the same rose that has been lucky enough to have been against her lips for the better part of five minutes. A waft of her intoxicating scent followed in its wake, drowning him in a haze of lust so powerful to render his early morning wank worthless.

"When do we leave?" Hermione asked him after nodding her goodbye to Dumbledore who left them with poor grace.

"What in the devil were you talking about so seriously this early in the morning, Albus?" Slughorn yelled across the room. Albus just waved him away, indicating that they would not be having that conversation from opposite ends of the Great Hall and began moving towards his breakfast.

Tom looked up into Hermione's eyes, his own a pool of black desire, so wide were his pupils. He reached up and caught her hand, keeping the rose between them, and took a step to close the distance between them, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "The sooner, the better. I can't wait to have you all to myself,"

Her breath caught, and the receding blush came back full force. He watched as the flush under her skin delved below her white oxford at her throat. Delicious.

A shrill whistle sounded from behind them and Tom whipped around, pinning Abraxas with a glare, the boy unrepentant with the telltale Malfoy smirk.

Tom tugged on Hermione's hand, the one still holding her flower, and pulled her to the table for a spot of breakfast before starting their last day of school before the weekend. Before the day was out, he was resolved to find out exactly what Malfoy Manor meant to Hermione Dumbledore.