When Hermione and Theo made it outside, the boy immediately steered her towards the small stone bench that sat underneath the large chestnut tree. The feeling of Theo's warm, guiding hand on her lower back made her feel content, safe and happy - more so than she had been since returning to her time.
The pair sat down on the bench, and Theo pointed his wand at the tree. He conjured hundreds of tiny lights that lit up the tree and their surrounding area. Hermione sighed. It was so romantic, but she was still feeling a little nervous and awkward around him. After all, she didn't know him that well and she'd barely spoken ten words to him before that evening. Shivering a bit from the cold, Hermione stiffened in surprise when she felt Theo put his warm arm around her.
Trying to get out of her own head, Hermione tried to focus on the positive. Despite not knowing Theo well, it was surprisingly easy to talk to him. He was everything that she should want in a guy. But, she also knew that this tentative flirtation between them couldn't last. Theo and her certainly weren't going to become an item so quickly, and she would be surprised if he would even want to after she told him the truth about the baby. Still, it was nice to pretend she was just a normal teenager for a while.
"So, Hermione, what brought you to live in the viper's den?" Theo asked, truly curious about the girl's presence here.
"Well, I had...sort of a...falling out with my friends in Gryffindor and Professor Dumbledore. They were not going to allow me to continue my education," Hermione said, wondering if she should feel guilty for sharing her story with everyone who asked about it, before deciding that she would shout it from the rooftops if she could.
"What? That's basically criminal! Why would they want to suppress a brain like yours?" Theo asked, raising his hand out as if he was about to touch her, before hesitating. Staring into her eyes, he swallowed, before gathering the courage to tuck some hair behind her ear
Hermione blushed at the contact, before turning away, unable to keep eye contact with him. "Well, yes, when Professor Snape told me that he would be able to take me somewhere where I could continue my education, and be protected, fed, clothed...I couldn't pass it up. Everyone has actually been very nice to me," she explained, unwilling to share with him the full story just yet.
There was a silence for a second before Theo spoke again. "I can't believe St. Potter turned his back on you. I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to be loyal," he said with a sneer.
Hermione sighed. "Yeah, right after...everything happened, Harry didn't really want to talk to me right away. But after that, I wasn't allowed to talk to him either," she said with a roll of her eyes, still annoyed that anyone in the Order had tried to dictate her life for her. Hermione pursed her lips in concentration. "Say, Theo, do you think, if I wrote a letter to Harry, you could deliver it to him? I don't trust the owls to get past Dumbledore."
"Yeah, I could do that," Theo responded with a nod, seeming to think that it wouldn't be difficult to do.
They quickly moved on to happier topics, including what classes he was looking forward to, and who his favorite professors were. After they had chatted for a while, Theo leaned over to Hermione, gently cupping her chin in his hand to get her to look at him. The look in his eyes was so intense, it made Hermione shiver, and this time not from the cold, but from desire. While she was pretty sure that Theo wasn't looking for anything too serious, that didn't mean she wasn't willing to have a little fun.
Before she knew it, their heads had drifted so close together that their lips were suddenly touching. Unable to contain herself, Hermione pushed her lips fiercely against his, moaning when she felt him nibble on her lower lip. She parted her lips, confident in her movements, enjoying the way that Theo was making her feel. Then, without any shyness, their tongues met and tangled with each other, exploring the new feelings that had sprung up that evening, almost out of nothing. Hermione let her hands reach up into Theo's hair, running them through his soft locks, pulling him closer to her body.
Even though the kiss was seriously delicious, Hermione forced herself to remember that it was just a little fun.
After dinner, Voldemort had retired to his study, and poured himself a glass of cognac. While he didn't usually indulge heavily, he needed to after tonight's dinner. He didn't know what Hermione thought she was doing, but he was definitely feeling the strain. She wore all sorts of clothing that was tight and short throughout the week, but the clothes she wore to dinners were the worst.
When she wore her hair up, it exposed the pale column of her neck, which seemed to be begging for his lips. Tight dresses that ended above mid thigh, and tall pumps that made her legs seem endless and toned. Legs that he would like to feel wrapped around his waist, for real this time. He couldn't deny that spanking her firm little arse didn't excite him. He was still a man.
But then tonight! That little tart was flirting and fawning all over the younger Nott. While he did think that Theodore was a very acceptable male specimen - Slytherin, well bred, smart, respectful - he was not acceptable for Hermione. It brought back phantom flashes of jealousy of when she'd been in the Diary and had been seeing Ted Nott. It was silly to be jealous, really, especially when he knew that Ted wouldn't have deigned to touch her in real life. Theodore on the other hand...
Unable to stop his curiosity, Voldemort found himself standing by the window, staring out over the courtyard, watching the pair of teenagers. He snorted when he say the boy conjure the lights, though he did notice that Hermione seemed to like it. It wasn't a particularly complex show of magic, so he was a bit disappointed that it would delight her so much. They spent most of their time talking to one another, and he began to feel himself relax. However, then he saw them embrace and kiss. He couldn't stand it!
He swore in parseltongue.
"Master, I don't understand why you are upset," Nagini asked. He was unsure of when she had slithered in here unannounced, but he was embarrassed to lose his cool, even if it was just in front of his old familiar.
"The girl," he bit out, the only thing that he would trust himself to say for the time being, tearing his eyes from the scene outside, and returned to his desk, downing the contents of his glass.
"Yes, but didn't you say that you didn't care if she engaged in sexual relations with another? That you only cared about the child within her belly for the use of a potion?" Nagini questioned, and if he thought she was able to, he would say she was teasing him.
"She should care for me! I am her husband!" Voldemort answered before he could stop himself. It was the first time he'd acknowledged the bond between himself and Hermione without provocation and it caught him off guard. He was behaving like a whiny child, but he found he didn't care.
"Why would she care for you if you show her no kindness or affection?" Nagini asked, ever wise with her words.
Of course, he had no answer for the snake. He didn't want to admit it, but it did make sense. How could he expect Hermione to just keep pining for him endlessly? He was a selfish man, but even that seemed too far fetched for him. Voldemort just scowled and stared down at the book on his desk, unable to read any of the words.
Hermione sat up in bed, her heart racing, and her body damp with sweat. The worst was the unpleasant ache that she felt in her core. She didn't know why this kept happening to her. She would dream that she was kissing Theo and then, just when things were about to become serious, his face would turn into that of Voldemort's. Not even his old face of Tom Riddle, but the pale, snake-like face.
However, her dream self had no problems with this and he would manipulate her body until she was on the precipice of stunning climax, only to be rudely awakened.
Other times it would be Antonin Dolohov who would be upset about something she said during a lesson, and he would throw her over his knee, pulling her skirt up and her panties down, and spank her again and again, until she would feel his erection pressing up against her belly. She would look up at the man, and he would again have turned into Voldemort.
Her subconscious was showing her all sorts of things that she'd never even imagined before and it was driving her crazy. She knew that she and Voldemort still had a connection, and she wanted to explore it with him, but she didn't know that would mean endless dreams that would leave her hot and ready for more.
She desperately needed to feel the ache subside in her core, but she wouldn't touch herself - she never gave into her urges before and just because they were beginning to occur more frequently didn't mean that she would start giving in. But she had no idea why she was so...sensitive, so needy.
It was seriously affecting her concentration.
Later that day, Hermione sat across the table from Voldemort and was trying desperately not to think of her dreams that were driving her crazy. Crazy with desire. Of course today would be the first time he would want to have a lesson in occlumency. Internally, she remembered how the last time they had found themselves in this situation, it was Tom who was having naughty thoughts about her. At the time, she'd been so embarrassed and horrified that he would think of her that way, but now, she was praying that he could still see her the same way. Would he be horrified, she wondered, if he could see the thoughts of him in her head?
She had noticed that ever since Theo had returned to Hogwarts - letter to Harry in hand - Voldemort seemed to be paying more attention to her. And this certainly wasn't helping her dreams subside at all.
So far, she had done remarkably subpar and Voldemort had been able to see most of her recent memories of Harry and Ron. He had paid special attention to Harry comforting Hermione after Ron had started kissing Lavender last year. Even though she wasn't going to ever be with Ron, Hermione still felt pain when she remembered that day. And she had revealed to Voldemort that Ginny was important to Harry. Very important. Just because she had run away from the Order did not mean that Hermione wanted Voldemort to hurt Harry.
"Goddammit, Hermione! Concentrate!" Voldemort snarled viciously at her. "Are you even trying to keep me out?" he demanded.
Hermione sighed. "I am sorry. I just can't seem to focus on the task at hand," she told her teacher, blushing slightly at the admission.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and he crossed the room, sitting beside her. He immediately made eye contact with the younger girl, and before she could put up any walls, he whispered viciously, "Legilimens."
Voldemort was immediately assaulted with images of himself and Hermione in compromising positions. He felt himself instantly harden at the images of him spanking Hermione until she became wet with desire, her straddling his hips so that she could rock her core, though clothed, against his erection, until she nearly came. But the feeling stopped abruptly.
Oh. He understood instantly. She had been having wet dreams, and he was the cause. He felt a smile bubbling up inside of him, but he quickly stamped it down. It wouldn't been good for her to see how much he enjoyed her wanting him, as she might try to use it to her advantage in the future.
He was impressed with her efforts, though. She hadn't been dealing with the desire, and now she would be unable to focus until she was relieved. "How long has this been happening?" he asked, gently, to put the girl at ease. He was especially pleased that she hadn't dreamed of Tom Riddle's body, but his current one. It showed that she was attracted to his person - no doubt his immense power and intelligence - and not his physical being.
Hermione blushed, but finally responded. "About a week. I don't know what's wrong with me. I have never had this problem before."
Before Hermione knew what was happening, Voldemort had surrounded her, pressing his thin lips against hers. The kiss was bruising and caught her off-guard. Unable to contain herself, she let out a small moan. Hermione immediately stiffened feeling Voldemort's long fingers dip under her skirt, slowly trailing up her inner thighs, until he was met with her knickers. Once she felt his fingers meet her core over the fabric though, she let her cares fly to the wind, knowing she was finally going to have some relief.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she let herself get carried away by the kiss and the sensation of his fingers over the fabric of her knickers. While she would have wished for a little more build up, she couldn't deny that she was already aching.
Breaking away from his lips, Hermione allowed her head to fall back and rest against the couch. Voldemort used his lips to a path kiss down her the side of her neck, past her collar bones, until they were on the tops of her breasts. Once he thought that he had teased the girl enough, he encouraged her to lift her hips so that he could slide her panties down to her knees, which she did eagerly.
He then ran his finger up and down her folds, gathering some of her wetness, until he was able to insert one finger inside of her, groaning at the feel of her heat. She answered by moaning so sweetly at the feeling. He brought his thumb up to her clit, and slowly began rubbing it in a circular motion, causing her to gasp in delight and need. Removing his finger, he slowly entered her again, feeling her walls tighten around the finger, as if to keep him inside of her.
He continued to give her this treatment, finally adding a second finger when she was slightly thrusting her hips back against his hand. His eyes drank in every inch of her form, but he was mostly drawn to staring at her face. Her pink lips slightly parted, her eyes screwed shut in focus, he was positive that he would not forget that image for a long time. With a great shudder and a low, long moan, Hermione finally came, looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her.
"Tom!" she cried out, but didn't think anything of it.
Voldemort certainly did though. He stilled momentarily, before nursing her through the end of her orgasm. Her tight, warm walls were too much sensation for him to take and he knew he would have his own issues to deal with now.
Once Hermione had regained her senses, she instantly flushed, but made no more to pull herself away from the Dark Lord. She couldn't behave that she had behaved that way! She couldn't deny, though, that she did feel a lot better - as if all of her tension was gone. She was feeling utterly conflicted, knowing that she loved Tom Riddle, but unused to feeling this level of attraction to his current form. She was having trouble rectifying the two sides of him.
"You are dismissed," Voldemort said, trying desperately to seem unaffected, but his nostrils flaring in anger. He couldn't stop thinking about how she had used his given name. He mostly didn't want to think why it didn't really bother him when she said it, a name that he hadn't used in years. He'd always hated his muggle father's name, but hearing her say it was not as bad as he'd expected.
"How can you just ask me to leave after we did...THAT?" Hermione demanded. She was uncomfortable, but that didn't mean that they couldn't look at this rationally and discuss what had happened. How could he increase the level of intimacy between then and just kick her out? Couldn't he feel the tug on his soul, the happiness that came from them enjoying one another?
"I can't have you distracted in lessons. That's all that happened," Voldemort responded, opening up his book to let her know that she was really dismissed. He was done talking and he needed her to leave the room as soon as possible. Before he did something that he would truly regret, like apparate her upstairs to his room. He was sure she would be horrified to know that the Dark Lord was lusting after her.
Hermione let out a noise of dissatisfaction and stomped out of the room. She did not understand that man even one bit. Her body still singing from the release that he'd helped her find, she knew she was in no frame of mind to argue with him, though, so she went to lock herself into her room, waiting for the inevitable wave of guilt to come.