A/N: I bow down to the wonderful RachaelLA26 for her dedicated work on this story. If you liked this (or hated it) please let me know about it in a review! I make a new mood board for each chapter of this story, find them on my Tumblr crochetawayhpff, my facebook Shan Crochetaway, or on the AO3 or Wattpad versions.

Chapter 4: Negotiation

August 2002

Valbona Valley National Park, Albania

Tom was pleased with the panicked look on the witch's face. If he could keep her in a state of panic, perhaps he'd be able to negotiate a return to London with her. It was obvious she was British, and if he wasn't mistaken her accent gave away her London roots. He stepped closer to her and smirked when she stiffened. Quick as a flash he plucked both wands from her fists and whirled away, not stopping until he was on the other side of the small cabin.

She looked equal parts gobsmacked and terrified. It fairly made Tom's body hum. He wanted her again.

"So it appears that I will be staying, Miss…" he trailed off. The infuriating witch still hadn't told him her name and he was determined to find out.

"Granger," she said faintly, still looking stunned. Tom felt a drop of disappointment in his abdomen. Granger was not a wizarding name. He had hoped he'd stumbled across some Pureblood princess, that would only make his life easier when he went back to Britain with her and began wooing the Pureblood class once more.

"Not a Pureblood then?" he asked.

The witch's lips tightened and she gave herself a little shake, seeming to come to a decision. "Should I enlighten you to today's political climate, Tom?" she spat at him. "Or is it Lord Voldemort? How many Horcruxes have you made already?"

Her voice was angry and full of ire, but Tom felt his blood run cold. How was it possible she knew so much about him? He'd read both The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter - The Chosen One from front to back and never had Lord Voldemort been mentioned at all. Nor were The Knights of Walpurgis mentioned, which mean that whoever He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was, it wasn't him. And if it wasn't him, then he wasn't as famous as he hoped. So how in the world had this Miss Granger known so much about him?

She seemed to read his face because she crossed her arms over her chest, causing her dressing gown to gape fetchingly, offering Tom quite the view of her left breast.

"It's the future, Tom. I know quite a lot about you." Her tone was scathing and Tom felt a stirring in his cock. But it wasn't the time for sex, not yet anyway. He needed to know what she knew. Needed to know how she knew what she knew.

"Tell me what you know," he demanded fiercely, stalking closer to her.

Granger threw back her head and laughed and Tom felt his heart rate increase; her laugh was like an aphrodisiac, the sound of it running straight to his balls.

"I have another week left on my vacation. Nobody will come looking for me for at least a month. Do what you want to me, but without me, you won't survive this world. The minute you step foot in wizarding Britain, you'll be hunted. Killed even."

Tom didn't know if he could believe her. Obviously, the books he'd read hadn't given him all of the information. He debated about whether he could trust her to be telling him the truth. He didn't want to believe her but his cock throbbed for her once more and he was undecided about what his next step should be. It wasn't a position he'd found himself in very often and it made him nervous.

August 2002

Valbona Valley National Park, Albania

Hermione had no idea if Tom believed her or not. She could only hope that he would, she didn't really fancy dying in the Albanian mountains. Perhaps if she made herself seem valuable he wouldn't kill her outright. If she could make it back to London, with or without Tom in tow, then she could get word to Harry and between the two of them they'd figure out something to do. You could just kill him now, a voice whispered in her head and Hermione shuddered. She'd survived the entire war without casting the Killing Curse. She didn't particularly want to break that streak now, even if she logically knew she'd be killing evil incarnate. It wouldn't have to be the Killing Curse… there are other ways… Hermione shut her eyes and pressed her hands to either side of her head. She wasn't going to kill him. Not if she could help it. She wasn't a murderer, she just wasn't.

Suddenly, Tom was standing before her again, towering over her, his wand shoved into her throat and a threatening look on his face. "Tell me why you know so much about me." It was a demand, not a request.

Hermione steeled her Gryffindor spine, straightening against the doorjamb behind her and answered him. "Because I spent a year of my life tracking down your Horcruxes and destroying them. All of them. All seven of them," she hissed.

Tom's eyes widened in shock and Hermione couldn't stop the smirk from forming on her face.

"They're gone… all of them?" he breathed. His wand dipped lower and he got a far-away look in his eyes.

"And you're dead," Hermione reminded him. "I helped do that too."

Hermione pointed to the books he'd left forgotten on the table behind him. "Do you know who He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is?"

Tom held his breath. It was him, he knew it was him. He couldn't believe he was so feared that people were terrified of saying his name. A flood of relief, power, and hunger filled his veins.

"You are," she answered her own question. "Lord Voldemort," she laughed. "People are still so scared of your fucking name that they won't even print it in books." She laughed again and her smirk turned nasty, cruel even.

"And now you're here. I need to know how many you've made so far. Horcruxes, how many have you? And where are they? It was a lot of work to track down seven of them. I'd rather…" she trailed off and realized she knew exactly how many he had. He was in Albania, which meant he was looking for the diadem. The diadem was the third Horcrux he made, so that meant he had the diary and the ring.

"The diary and the ring," Hermione breathed. "Where are they? Have you found the diadem yet? You must still be looking…" she trailed off again. "You must have went to look for the diadem before you went to see Hepzibah Smith," she mused almost to herself.

But Tom was standing right there and he heard it all. Suddenly, he slammed her against the wall and Hermione realized that what was pressed so insistently against her belly was not a wand. It was much too thick for that. She gasped and her breath left her entirely when he trailed a finger down the gaping neckline of her dressing gown, his finger leaving a path of fire in its wake. The sexual chemistry between them was electric, magnetic and suddenly she was burning for him.

"Don't try to distract me," she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders almost involuntarily. She willed her legs to stay put, no matter how much she wanted to wrap them around his waist and trap that long, hard, hot length between them.

"Oh, is this distracting?" Tom asked, breathing in her ear. Hermione had no idea what he did with the wands, but they weren't in his hands now. Now his hands had pulled open both sides of her dressing gown, cupping her breasts and thumbing her nipples. Her mind went blank with need and she panted, unable to answer him.

"Yes," she hissed as he lowered his dark head and took one of her nipples in his mouth. Now instead of clutching his shoulders, she was holding his head to her chest. Her traitor left leg had crept up and was now clutching at his hips. Tom took the hint and dropped both hands to her arse, lifting her. Hermione finally wrapped her legs around his waist, trapping his cock between them and it pulsed against her bare center. She hadn't bothered with knickers and soon the dressing gown was untied completely, still hanging from her shoulders.

Tom kissed his way to her other nipple, taking a moment to breathe in the air in the valley of her breasts and Hermione's own breath hitched in response. Logically, she knew that sleeping with Tom Riddle once had been a very stupid idea. And doing it a second time? It was practically unforgivable. But it didn't stop her from reaching a hand between them, attempting to pry the buttons of his trousers apart. She desperately wanted that cock inside her.

Tom chuckled at her efforts, finally raising his head from her chest. The look in his deep blue eyes stopped Hermione from breathing. She could see want and lust and something else, something darker swirling in their depths. Tom whispered something and suddenly his unclothed dick was sliding through her sopping folds.

"Oh, fuck," Hermione groaned, clutching at his shoulders, urging him on.

"Oh, we certainly will," Tom muttered, sliding his cock up and down through her folds, nudging at her clit. It was almost too much, Hermione could feel her climax building and he hadn't even entered her yet. How would she survive this man if they couldn't go more than a few hours without fucking?

Her heart lurched when she realized she was thinking of a future, of the future with him. That was a dangerous thought. Much too dangerous to be thinking about on the edge of her orgasm.

"Please," Hermione begged. She had no shame, she wanted him. She wanted him to fill her up until she couldn't speak coherent sentences anymore. She wanted more climaxes when he'd already given her three that day. She was greedy and unashamed of either of those facts. "Please," she said again.

"And that's what I was waiting for," Tom growled and impaled her on his length. Hermione tossed her head back and keened at the sudden intrusion. It felt so fucking good. So, so fucking good she couldn't think anymore. She could only react. Tom grasped first one hand, then the other and pulled them above her head. He slid both hands down her arms and Hermione realized he must have stuck her wrists to the wall because she couldn't move them. She was both exhilarated and slightly panicked that she was restrained, unable to stop him from accessing her body in any way he pleased.

She whimpered when he slowed and shallowed his thrusting as he paid homage to her breasts. "Please," Hermione said again. She should be ashamed of the amount of begging that was going on, but she wasn't. Not right now, now she was too far gone with need to be ashamed of anything. "Please, Tom, I fucking need you," Hermione groaned as he slowly circled his hips. She was so close to her orgasm that she could practically taste it.

Tom lifted his dark head and smirked at her. Hermione's eyes rolled back in her head as the tension in her body snapped and she came. Tom began snapping his hips into Hermione, his sack slapping her bum as he pumped in and out.

Hermione groaned, feeling another climax begin to climb its way out from her center. "Fucking yes," she moaned and Tom covered her mouth with his own as he took her. She didn't care that he was the future Dark Lord. She didn't care that he was evil incarnate or the devil or anything else. At that moment, the only thing that mattered to Hermione was that he didn't stop. That he continued pounding his way into her cunt and giving her the best sex she'd had. Period. Ever. Full stop. Nothing good could be said about Tom Riddle except that he was a phenomenal bed partner. And right then, that's all that mattered to Hermione.

August 2002

Valbona Valley National Park, Albania

Tom slowly pulled out of Granger and propped her up between him and the wall behind her. He whispered a release and her hands fell limply to her side. Her hair was a bushy mess behind her head and Tom thought she looked rather fetching. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing hard. He was sure that if he pulled away, she'd fall bonelessly to the floor. He rather liked this look on her and a fierce wave of possession shot through him. He didn't generally want to possess witches. There were so many out there to choose from, but this witch caused him to feel things he'd never felt before. And she was infuriating, he didn't even know her first name, but he knew he wanted to have her again and again. He could feel his cock stirring at just the thought of it. He pressed a swift kiss to her lips and then pulled away to lean his forehead against hers as they both recovered.

She'd said he'd be hunted or even killed if he returned to wizarding Britain without her. Tom already knew he was going to do his best to convince her to stand at his side. Something he'd never contemplated before, but fifty-three years into the future and he knew he would need someone to help him navigate the differences between his world and hers. She would be the perfect person to do it too. Smart, beautiful, and he had an inkling that she was probably fairly powerful as well. The Hangover Relief potion she'd made had worked flawlessly and she didn't have a wand on her when she had summoned it. Beyond all that, the thought of murdering her because she knew too much made his stomach churn. Not when he could keep fucking her. Murder wasn't the only way to control the narrative after all. Sex worked just as well sometimes. And Granger was practically gagging for it. Right now, she was pressing slow, soft kisses to the side of his neck. Tom's cock was now doing more than stirring at her attention.

Besides all of that, if there was one thing Tom was it was selfish, and he found he rather liked fucking Granger. He wanted to keep fucking her. So the best way to do that was to get her on his side. And keep her there. And that had the added benefit of keeping her around to mine for information. For example, who was this Harry Potter and how had he defeated Tom? And how did Granger know Potter? All things that he would come to learn if he kept her at his side. He hadn't truly been contemplating killing her, but clearly, she thought that he might. Not only was that good information to have, it didn't mean Tom had to tell her that he wouldn't kill her. Tom had found through the years that being unpredictable was always better for keeping his Knights on their toes. No better way to ensure compliance than being unpredictable. And the threat of murder helped too.

Tom pulled away entirely from Granger leveling her his best cool face, he turned from her, collecting both wands from where he dropped them on the floor and pulled his trousers back on. He really needed more information about his Horcruxes. She had said they'd destroyed them all, was that still the case? He'd have to check on where he'd hidden both the diary and the ring to figure out if they were still there or gone. He needed to return to Britain as soon as possible. He could always come back to Albania; if both the ring and diary were in place, to find the diadem.

He turned to face Granger, who had pulled her dressing gown around her once more and was glaring at him. "Take me back to London with you."

Granger laughed. Tom was really getting sick of her laughing at him.