A/N - Thank you for reading/reviewing!
IV.
It was raining the night he approached her, a fire dying the Heads Common Room hearth. She'd been lying on the larger sofa, and he poked her shoulder until she awoke before sitting down next to her, smelling too much like cigarettes and Fire Whiskey for her liking.
"You stink, Riddle."
He laughed. It was the first friendly thing she'd said to him since the Ministry. He leaned over his knees, untying his shoes. He wasn't wearing an undershirt beneath his uniform shirt, and she swore she could see bruises on his skin. As she touched his back, they disappeared. He stilled beneath her touch.
"Have you made up your mind?" He asked quietly.
"Kinda."
He turned to look at her, still leaning over his knees. Her hand was still on his back. She rubbed up his ribcage and shoulder, pressing her fingers around the base of his neck. He sighed. His eyes fell closed.
"What do you want, Riddle?"
"Right now? You." His eyes opened. He smiled and sat up, pulling her hand from his back to his thigh. He circled her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. "Can I have you, Granger?"
"No."
He hummed. "That's too bad."
The fire died out. He got up to tend to another one. Returned to her side as though he'd done it a thousand times. Hermione felt every nerve in her body in a way that caused her to hate herself. It was so cliché. It was so wrong. It was so-
"Sex magic isn't something to be played with, Riddle. It's serious. It's dangerous. We could…we could get sent to Azkaban."
"Or we could have the world," he suggested, looking away from the fire and directly at her.
For as many times as their eyes had met, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him so clearly before.
"You don't know me."
"Don't I?"
Once again, she was trapped. He pulled her books from her lap, pushing them to the opposite side of the couch before leaning into her. She felt his nose along her jaw and ear.
"This is inappropriate."
He continued, inhaling deeply, lips brushing her neck. She didn't stop him. She couldn't. He drew his fingers over her bare thigh, pushing the edge of her shorts up as he reached them. She gripped his wrist before he could go any further.
"Not now."
"When?" His lips brushed her neck again, up and down until he actually kissed her. It was softer than she'd expected. He twisted out of her grip and brushed his fingers over her stomach before taking her jaw in his hand. The tips of his fingers slipped into her hair. He kissed her jaw this time, moving slowly toward her mouth.
"I don't…So much could go wrong. People would…we aren't really from this world, Riddle. We could really make a fool of ourselves."
"I will answer any question you have. Get any book you need. Help you in any way."
His lips dragged around her cheek as he spoke. His nose brushed the side of hers.
She was shaking. Maybe. She was interested. Maybe. Mostly, she wanted something for herself for once. She wanted a chance that wasn't connected to another Pureblood, or to any well to do Half-blood.
"I never thought of you as such a cautious person, Granger. Considering the company you keep."
"I'm logical. I know where I stand."
He whispered, "You sound defeated. You sound like you need this. Need me."
It probably wasn't a lie-
"No. I don't believe so."
-but that was.
He was so close, perfectly flush against her body. And he was so cool, like a breath of fresh air or the spray of the ocean on a hot day. It was distracting.
He kissed the corner of her mouth. "Ok. I need this. I need you." His other hand gripped the back of her neck. "Won't you allow me this?" His nose brushed her face again. "You know what it means for you. You get more than I do."
"Then why not proposition someone you can control? Someone who won't-"
"That's no fun, witch."
He made like he was going to kiss her and Merlin did she want it. She would have given in. It was irrational and stupid because he hadn't even done anything, but she would have done everything.
Tom licked her then, the tip of his tongue turning to the flat of it as he moved up her chin and near her mouth.
She ripped out of his grip, jumping up and away from him. Her eyes were wide when they landed on him, shocked and disturbed and confused. He didn't seem to think anything wrong with his actions. He stretched out over the couch, legs wide and arms opening over the back of it.
"Come back."
She tugged a hand through her hair. "My rules."
He stared at her. She imagined what she looked like, standing around in her pajamas, negotiating with…with him. With someone she'd never even considered speaking to before he'd approached her at the end of 6th year. You're quite beautiful.
It was stupid. She felt stupid. But that was it. He was the first man –wizard- to ever say anything about her looks that wasn't condescending or cruel. He'd never mentioned her hair or even her blood. He'd never noticed before, but he thought she was beautiful. What had he seen? An academic? An –Merlin, it felt silly to even think and consider- equal? Why else would have asked her?
It was unreal. It was stupid.
She opened her mouth to explain more. To question more. But, instead, she said, "Did you mean it? When you said that you thought I was beautiful?"
He seemed stumped for a moment. "I have eyes, Granger."
"I have bushy hair and big teeth and dirty blood."
His mouth twitched. He prepared to say something, but didn't. As he licked his lips, his eyes dragged over her body slowly before he got up from his seat and neared her. He took her face in her hands.
She realized that he was good. That he knew what he wanted and how to get it and understood that this –she- was a means to an end, even if he was offering up a substantial amount of who he was. "Do you believe those things about yourself?"
"They're true. It doesn't matter if I believe them or not."
Tom hummed. His thumb brushed her lip just before he kissed her. She opened her mouth to him, allowing him to explore before returning the kiss, feeling him let go of her jaw and unravel the braid she had her hair in. She pulled away before he could make any real progress.
"Your rules," he told her.
She nodded.
"And yes. I think you're beautiful."
.
.
.
No one noticed.
He brushed her hand in the hallway. He stopped by her desk to say something absolutely unnecessary in classes they shared. He joined her in the library early in the morning.
Not Ron nor Draco nor Harry, not even Bellatrix, even noticed that they were up to anything. Which was fine, if a little disappointing, because it made everything easy for them. The rules were in place. The understanding was in place. She'd do him this favor, and he would never mention a thing of her dark tendencies –he'd been watching her, she'd learned, for years- to anyone. They took an oath. They continued to use each other.
It was fine.
No one noticed.
V.
There was a moment, as Tom sunk his teeth into her neck and drove his fingers into the fragile skin stretching over her ribcage, that Hermione considered what she was doing. This wasn't it yet. She still had a chance to reconsider and leave, never to speak him again. She didn't have to do this again. She didn't have to even continue this time.
But, even as she told herself these things, she knew that she was lying to herself.
The flat of his tongue smoothed against the curve of her neck just before his lips pulled her skin into his mouth. She felt him laughing. She felt him begging. She felt him drawing blood and magic and Merlin-
"Tom," she heard someone say, and only realized that it was her own voice as he licked up her throat and chin, spreading her blood over her lips as he hummed in response.
His nose brushed hers. His fingers climbed her back, gripped her shoulders, and forced her arms around his neck as he stood up from the couch.
"You're drunk. We shouldn't do this," she told him, her own fingers tightening in his hair. She pulled him away from where he'd returned to her neck. His eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them.
"I'm not drunk," he told her, and she would have believed him if she hadn't known better.
"Ok. But we shouldn't do this. It isn't-"
He kissed her, lips sure and tongue gentle as he coxed her into opening her mouth.
They ended up in his room, on his bed, her breasts pulled over bra and skirt hiked up over her thighs. There was a hole in her tights from where she'd gotten hooked on his belt buckle, and as he laid her back, his mouth exploring her chest, one hand smoothed over her stomach as he slipped his fingers into the rips, grazing her thigh and over her panties.
She caught his wrist in her hand before he could push them away from her.
"Tom-"
She felt him exhale, chastely kissing up her chest and throat before meeting her eyes.
"You talk too much, Granger. You think too much, too." He half smiled, stretching out over her, his elbows on either side of her torso and chin in his palm. His voice had been quiet, softening her toward him, and she nearly caved until he smirked. "I know you want to fuck."
She looked away from him, tugging his pillow from beneath her head and covering her face with it. "If you're anymore charming, Riddle, I'm not sure I'll be able to stand it."
He chuckled, and she felt him brush over where he'd marked her skin. Her skin tickled as he healed it, his lips moving silently over her stomach. She catalogued his use of wandless for another day- or, at the very least, later.
Someone banged on the door, startling them both, and Nott's voice muffled through before he barged in. "Oh," she heard, loud and clear. And then, "For fuck's sake, Riddle." There was a smile in his voice.
His hands were over her the moment the door opened; and he pushed up, further blocking her from view. "Out," he hissed, his fingertips grazing the underside of her breasts as he lifted the cups over them.
The door shut softly. He pulled the pillow from over her head, smiling down at her.
"You really can't find good help these days, can you?"
"I'll have to teach them respect it seems." He smirked, lowering himself to kiss her one more time. "We will do this, Hermione Granger," he murmured against her lips. His eyes were still dark as she met his gaze, but the lust she'd seen early was long gone. "I'd prefer you willing, witch."
"And if I'm not?" She asked softly. She just needed conformation. She just needed to know-
"By your standards, I'm already fucked, aren't I?" He stood up, righting his clothing and smoothing his hands over his curls.
His tone was too curious. Too light. She felt goose bumps form over her stomach. She reached for his hand and smoothed her fingers over his ring. There was no way for her to hide the jerky shiver of her body.
Their eyes met. He licked his lips so slowly and hungrily that Hermione couldn't help but sit up and kiss him, her free hand holding his jaw.
"No."
He laughed, summoning his Dragon's hide boots and slipping them on. Before leaving, he turned to look at her, his face hard and jaw tight. "I really would prefer you willing; but know that I am not opposed to taking what is mine."
Disgust filtered over her features. She buttoned the middle of her shirt. "Yours?"
He grinned, his dimples showing and the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Tomorrow," he told her.
"Why would I fuck you after that? Knowing that you would…that you would-"
He stalked back over and kissed her mouth hard, forcing her lips opens and holding her still until she softened into him. He brushed his nose against her jaw as he said, "I know it wouldn't come to that. Would it?"
"That isn't fair."
As though he hadn't heard her, he said, "Because you want this as much as I do."
She didn't say anything. He looked into her eyes as though he was worried. She'd remembered that she had to be willing for the spell to hold, but it didn't make her any less disgusted with him.
"Don't you, Hermione?"
"I don't have to do this," she reminded him…herself. "I wouldn't be put out of anything if I chose not to."
Upset wasn't the right word to describe Tom in that moment. His shoulders tensed. His eyes narrowed. She saw his tongue along the underside of his lip, sliding over his teeth in an almost threatening way.
"Go," she told him, pushing him away. "Go and do whatever it is you do every fortnight."
His mouth pressed gently into hers one last time before her disappeared. She fell back onto the bed.
"Was that Granger?" The questioned echoed down the hall and into the open door.
"Even if it was, I don't see how that would be your business, Nott." Tom's voice left no room for question.
She tugged the pillow back over her head and groaned.