Disclaimer in Chapter One

Author's note: Very happy to have finished the next chapter. I had fun playing around with the AUness of this. So be prepared to learn a bit more about Tom's past.

I wish you a merry christmas if you celebrate it. (Otherwise I hope you can at least leech a holiday out of it ;)

Thank you guys for reviewing. It really is the best thing reading your input. Puts a smile on my face.

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Chapter Eight: Cadmus

Feeling slightly disoriented, Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and dragged the huge backpack with her. She had to quickly get out of the way as the flames in the fireplace burned green again, admitting the next traveller. Tomorrow was New Year's Eve that was probably the reason the station was so crowded. Hermione shouldered the backpack and walked away from the rows and rows of fireplaces each with a queue of people.

Riddle hadn't waited for her but was on his way to leave the station. Hermione followed him outside the floo-network building and on London's busy streets. It was cold outside and a few snowflakes sailed down on the city's asphalt and concrete. Still, the cold had nothing on Albania's frosty mountains. Ignoring how the backpack's straps uncomfortably cut into her shoulders, Hermione caught up with Riddle. He wasn't acknowledging her presence in any way. A deep frown furrowed his brow. All morning Riddle had been in a horrible mood.

"Master Riddle?" Hermione mumbled tentatively.

He didn't respond at all. Hermione swallowed down her fear and whispered,

"Now that we are back in the UK. I need to – you know – return to my Master."

Riddle abruptly stopped walking. The frown on his face turned into a deep scowl. Hermione fidgeted under his steady gaze. The only answer she got was a decisive,

"No."

With that Riddle turned around and resumed his way. Hermione scurried after him.

"I really need to return, Master Riddle," she implored. "It's my duty."

"I don't care about your duties," he replied harshly. "You are going to stay with me until I tell you otherwise."

"Please," Hermione beseeched. "I'm going to get punished if I don't return."

"That really is not my problem," Riddle said meanly. "You stay with me. If you go against my wishes, I will punish you. And believe me, that's going to be a lot worse than anything Malfoy could ever come up with."

Murderous threat smouldered in his blue eyes as he glared at her. "Do you understand me?"

Hermione nodded her head and surrendered, "Yes, Master Riddle."

Riddle ended the conversation and swiftly walked down the street. Hermione followed a few steps behind him, head bent. She wondered what she should do now. She really needed to return to Malfoy manor. It was probably a beating that awaited her there and the longer she stayed away the worse it would be. Sure, Draco had left her with Riddle, but Hermione knew the blond would blame her absence on her anyway.

In low spirits, Hermione eyed the back of Riddle's head. Maybe she should just run away from him and get back to the manor. She did consider it, but the image of that wonderful chestnut wand kept hovering through her thoughts. If she left Riddle, she would probably never again get the chance to use a real wand.

"In here."

Riddle pulled her into a side street, away from any Muggles, and apparated her away.

†

"So?" Hermione asked, panting heavily. "Where are we?"

She followed Riddle as he walked an icy road which meandered through snow covered fields. Hermione was breathing heavily and sweat covered her forehead. Riddle was walking fast and she had problems keeping up, carrying that heavy backpack.

"Little Hangleton," was his cryptic answer.

Out of breath, Hermione finally had to take a break. Annoyance glimmered in Riddle's eyes as he walked back to her. He gestured at the backpack and said curtly,

"Give that to me. We don't have the whole day."

After Riddle had thrown the backpack over his shoulder, they resumed their way. Hermione now had no problems keeping up with his long strides. Obviously they were headed for that big house on top of the hill. It looked like some kind of mansion.

"Why are we here?" Hermione dared to ask.

Riddle glared daggers at her. His bad mood obviously hadn't yet lifted. He snapped irritably,

"Wasn't it your idea?"

Not really, Hermione thought but didn't dare reply anything. They walked the rest of the way in silence until they stood before the mansion's gates. The estate looked impressive with its wide lawns and the beautiful manor. Hermione wondered if the building was even larger than the Malfoys'. Definitely larger than the Blacks', she decided as her gaze wandered over the manor.

Riddle, on the other hand, had a sour look on his face as he glared at the building in distaste. With a subtle wave of his wand, he opened the gate. Hermione was confused that the manor's entrance wasn't protected by any wards. Usually, wizarding families put protective barriers and anti-appartion spells around their homes.

Riddle passed the iron gate and walked towards the manor. As they finally stood before the enormous entrance door, Hermione peered up at Riddle. The angry frown seemed to have become a permanent fixture on his face and he glowered at the wooden door. Then his chilly gaze fell on her. Hermione blinked up at him, not quite sure what to expect.

"Listen, Penny," Riddle said, voice tetchy and strained. "While we are here, I don't want you to call me 'Master'."

Hermione furrowed her brow, bewildered by the order. "Okay."

"And you definitely shouldn't use any magic," he added tightly.

Hermione nodded. Her confusion must have been visible on her face, because Riddle sighed annoyed.

"Okay," he hissed impatiently. "Before you make any mistakes, I should probably tell you that this is my family's house and my… father is a Muggle."

Hermione's eyes were like saucers as she gaped at him.

Riddle is a Halfblood?

The anger in Riddle's eyes grew to new dimensions as she kept ogling at him. He took a threatening step towards her and hissed,

"If you ever tell anyone about this, I'll make you regret it."

Hermione quickly nodded.

"No magic, understood?" Riddle darkly glared at the huge manor. "He doesn't like magic very much, my father."

He raised his hand and rang the bell. They waited for a moment before the huge door was being opened. A woman, probably in her late thirties, stood on the threshold. She was a tad bit on the chubby side. Her mousy hair was cut into a short bob and her skin was rather pale. Hermione noticed how the woman's eyes slightly looked into opposite directions. Nevertheless, her face glowed with friendly excitement as she spotted Riddle.

"Tommy!" the woman exclaimed, a wide smile on her face.

She stormed over to Riddle and wrapped her arms around him. Hermione saw Riddle tense as the woman hugged him and he barely raised his arms to return the gesture. The woman released him and smiled up at Riddle.

"You should have called," she chided, still grinning broadly.

She raised a hand and ran her fingers affectionately through Riddle's dark hair. He didn't look very comfortable with the situation.

"Look at you," the woman chortled cheerfully. "You've grown so much."

Then she eagerly grabbed his hand and pulled him into the house.

"Come in, come in."

It was only now that the woman spotted Hermione. Her face lit up even more and she said happily,

"Oh, you've brought your girlfriend?"

Riddle slightly turned his head and his icy blue eyes fell on a confused Hermione. After a moment he said in his deep emotionless voice,

"Yes."

Hermione's eyes widened at his answer but she didn't have much time to comprehend his statement as the woman now drowned her in a big hug.

"You are such a dear," the woman chirped cheerfully. "And so pretty. Of course you are Tommy's girlfriend."

In no time, Hermione was pulled into the house, out of her travel cloak and sat in the spectacular drawing room with a hot cup of tea in front of her. The woman placed a plate with sandwiches on the side table then she plopped down on the lush sofa right beside Riddle.

"If I had known you'd come, I would have prepared something better," she said as she happily ran her hand over Riddle's arm.

She looked at Hermione and exclaimed, "Oh, where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself yet." She extended her hand to Hermione and said, "I'm Tommy's mother. My name is Merope."

Hermione shook the woman's hand and said timidly, "I'm Penny."

"It's so nice to meet you," replied Merope, beaming. Then she asked good-naturedly, "So, are you a witch?"

Hermione blinked at her. She just wanted to deny as Riddle cut over her, his voice laced with frost, "Luckily for you, mother, she is a witch. Otherwise you would have just broken the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy."

"Oh my," said Merope carelessly. "I completely forgot about that."

Riddle just angrily narrowed his eyes at his mother. Merope didn't seem to notice. She turned to Hermione and said proudly,

"Tommy is so smart. He always helps me out when I mess up."

Hermione only nodded at her.

"How long are you going to stay?" Merope inquired, looking at Riddle lovingly.

He shrugged and gazed back at her indifferently. "We won't be staying long."

Merope immediately shook her head. "No, no. You've got to stay at least until tomorrow. We need to celebrate your birthday."

Riddle sneered at that, "I doubt he will allow me to stay that long."

The happy smile on Merope's face fell as she heard that. She grabbed Riddle's hand and whispered sadly, "Don't say things like that. You know your father is happy to have you here."

Riddle just raised a sceptical eyebrow but didn't comment.

†

They sat for a while in the drawing room and talked. Well, it was more like Merope talked, interrupted by the occasional sharp comment from Riddle. Hermione didn't say much. She ate her sandwiches and listened. Riddle's mother was quite likable, always smiling and laughing. Strange, how the two of them were related…

Hermione heard the front door of the mansion being opened and someone stepped in. Riddle tensed as he heard it. Whoever had entered, they now walked through the entrance hall and towards the drawing room. It wasn't long and a man entered. Hermione was quite surprised as she saw him. From the black shiny hair, the pale skin and the fine aristocratic features, that man was a carbon copy of Riddle. They only differed in age as this man seemed to be Merope's age.

Wearing a perfectly tailored suit, the Riddle-copy looked very attractive as he stepped into the room, holding the Financial Times folded under his arm. He stopped in his tracks as his clear blue eyes settled on the group sitting on the luxurious sofa. As soon as his gaze landed on Riddle, the man's handsome features twisted up in disgust.

"What do you want here?" he asked sharply.

Riddle just arched a disinterested eyebrow. Then he drawled, sarcasm cruelly wrapped around his words,

"Well, what do you know, father? Suddenly I was hit by the urge to visit my loving family."

The man – Riddle's father – narrowed his eyes irately. With a few angry steps he stood in front of the sofa. Glaring at his son, Riddle senior hissed menacingly,

"I don't want scum like you in my home!"

Now Merope sprang up from the couch. She stepped over to Mr Riddle and said sternly, "Tom! He's your son."

Hermione saw Mr Riddle's hands curling into fists as he fought for composure. His wife's words must have reached him, because as he spoke next the murderous tinge had left his voice. Instead Riddle senior mocked harshly,

"I thought you had 'left for good'. What happened that made you crawl back?"

Traces of dark magic crackled around Riddle. He slowly got up from the couch and sent his father a look of pure hate. Riddle senior just snickered disdainfully,

"If you need money, forget it. I'm not paying for any more of your freakish stuff. You are eighteen, I'm not responsible anymore."

"I certainly don't need your money," Riddle sneered viciously.

"Ha," made Mr Riddle disbelievingly.

His frosty eyes shortly left his son and he spotted Hermione. Anger burned up in his eyes and he yelled at Riddle,

"Don't tell me you brought one of your people here. In my house!"

Livid glare in place Mr Riddle rounded on Hermione. She fearfully shied away from the furious man.

"Tell me, little girl," he hissed maliciously. "You are one of them, aren't you? One of those abnormal people."

Hermione didn't dare to look up at him and whispered in a soft voice, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to intrude."

"Don't patronize me!" Riddle senior yelled at her, making Hermione flinch.

Merope stepped closer to her husband and laid a hand on his arm as she admonished decisively,

"Dear, she's a guest."

The irate snarl never left Riddle senior's face as he turned towards Merope and snapped, "She's not a guest! She's one of those freaks!"

He angrily pointed at Riddle and thundered, "And you, boy! Don't think you can just barge in here whenever it pleases you!"

Riddle wasn't in the least bit impressed by his father yelling at him. His eyes were free of any emotion and a disdainful smirk curled his mouth as he sneered,

"Believe me, it far from pleases me to be here."

Mr Riddle took a threatening step towards his son and snarled, "Watch your tongue! You won't insult me in my own house."

A dangerous glint appeared in Riddle's eyes as he was threatened. Slowly his hand wandered to his robe pocket. Then he said, his voice soft but deathly cold,

"And I won't have a Muggle speak to me like that."

At that the angry purple colour on Mr Riddle's face got even darker. His hands balled into fists and he took another step towards his son. Riddle's magic started to crackle around him and his hand disappeared into his robe pocket. Before either of the two men could do anything, Merope quickly stepped in front of her husband and laid a hand on his chest.

"Please," she said steadily. "Calm down, Tom."

Riddle senior didn't look down at his wife. Hate dripped from his gaze as it wandered over his son. Merope cautiously rubbed her hand over Mr Riddle's chest and said,

"Please, dear. It's Tommy's birthday tomorrow. Let him stay. They won't cause any trouble."

Mr Riddle's eyes narrowed to slits but at least he hesitated. Merope continued to rub her hand soothingly over his chest and whispered,

"I'll look after them. There won't be any problems. I promise."

At his wife's words, Riddle senior slowly caved in. After a while of glaring at his son, he finally growled,

"Fine. They can stay."

A relieved smile appeared on Merope's face. "Thank you, dear."

Riddle senior nodded sharply. Then his eyes snapped back to his son and he snarled, "But no funny business. Or I swear I'll call the police and have you locked away."

Riddle looked at his father for a second, disgust shining though his emotionless mask. Then he shrugged and drawled,

"Whatever you say, father."

†

A dark-blue velvet bedspread covered the soft bed Hermione was sitting on. She watched Riddle as he paced the room. Probably his own room, Hermione guessed. The floor was tiled with ebony, which perfectly fitted the elegant dark furniture. The wallpapers were pale green while dark green curtains with delicate golden ornaments hung by the windows. The room was very tidy, just as if someone religiously kept it neat. Still, it felt cold, sterile even, as it completely lacked any personal belongings.

Hermione watched Riddle's angry pacing. Since his little shouting match with his father, he hadn't said a word. The irate frown on his face, though, had gotten deeper. Hermione decided to disturb the uncomfortable silence and cleared her throat.

"So… It's your birthday tomorrow?"

Riddle threw her a dark glare and didn't answer.

"How old are you?" prodded Hermione tentatively.

He sighed in irritation and informed curtly, "I'll be eighteen tomorrow."

"Hm." She eyed him. "That's nice."

He furrowed his brow and sank down on the bed beside her. For a while he only glared at the room darkly. Then he asked irritably,

"How old are you?"

"Oh," made Hermione. "Er… I think sixteen or seventeen…? I don't know."

Slowly the furious scowl drained from Riddle's face, replaced by confusion. "You don't know?"

Hermione shook her head, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I forgot."

"How can you forget something like that?"

"I… er…" she struggled to explain. "As I entered the magical world I kind of decided to just… never think of anything that was before. So, over the time I forgot a lot."

By now curiosity had completely replaced the dark scowl on his face and Riddle asked, "Why would you want to forget your past?"

Hermione's eyes left Riddle and she stared out of the window. It was already dark outside, she noted absently.

"Otherwise, it hurts too much."

Riddle didn't comment. He stared at her for a moment, strange glint in his eyes. Then he got up and walked over to the door.

"Come. I'll show you your room."

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

It was the next day that Hermione sat in the guest room on the comfortable leather couch with a book in her hand. They just had lunch in the drawing room. The food had been delicious. Obviously Merope had cooked something special for her son's birthday. It still had been awkward. The whole time Riddle and his father had thrown death glares at each other. Hermione was glad to be back in her room.

My room… she giggled and still couldn't believe it.

There was a queen sized bed right under the broad window. A ridiculously large TV set was conveniently placed on the wall unit, so it could be used from the couch or the bed. The remote lay on the side table in front of Hermione, though she hadn't dared to touch it.

The events from the day before spooked thought her head. Riddle really was a Halfblood. How strange. Hermione shook her head. She had never met a Halfblood before. At least not knowingly. It wasn't something a wizard would go advertising with. Halfbloods weren't exactly accepted in society. Most of them were the product of a wizard taking advantage of a female Mudblood. Hermione shuddered at the terrible thought. If the poor woman got pregnant after the rape, the baby would usually be treated like a Mudblood.

In Riddle's case, though, this scenario wasn't true. After all, Merope seemed to be a witch while her husband was a Muggle. Hermione didn't think Mr Riddle had forced himself on his wife. It seemed like Merope had consciously made the decision to live with her husband like a Muggle.

Hermione was ripped from her thoughts by a knock at the door. Again a knock and she realized the polite gesture was directed at her.

"Y- yes?"

The door opened and Merope Riddle stepped in. She carried a tray with two glasses and a jug of lemonade while she beamed at Hermione.

"I hope I don't disturb you."

Hermione shook her head. Merope's smile widened and she walked over to the couch. She placed the tray on the side table before she sat on the couch.

"Everything alright?" Merope asked kindly.

Hermione quickly nodded. The woman smiled and offered her a glass of lemonade. Hermione accepted it and nervously gripped the glass in both hands.

"I'm so glad Tommy brought you with him," Merope said merrily. "You are the first friend he ever brought home. I'm sure that means something."

Hermione nodded again. Merope took a sip from her lemonade and grinned.

"The first girlfriend he brought home, too." She nudged Hermione playfully in the side. "Tell me about yourself, Penny. I'm so curious."

"Er…" mumbled Hermione. "There really isn't much to say…"

Merope hummed and took a sip from her glass. "You are just like Tommy. He never tells me anything either."

An involuntary smile took form on Hermione's face as the woman kept calling Riddle 'Tommy'.

"Do you go to Hogwarts?"

"No. But I would really like to see it," said Hermione.

"Yes." Merope smiled. "I always wanted to go there myself. But my father didn't want that. He thought home-schooling would be better for me. So, my brother and I never went to Hogwarts." Her hazel eyes wandered over Hermione interestedly, "Are you home-schooled yourself?"

"Er…" Hermione squirmed in her seat. "Hm… yes…"

It wasn't exactly a lie, she told herself. She really had learned at 'home', if one could call Malfoy manor 'home' and sneaking into the library 'learning'.

Merope laughed merrily. "It seems we both missed out on Hogwarts, eh? But I'm sure you could visit Tommy there."

Hermione smiled vaguely. "Maybe."

"I've been there once, you know. That was during Tommy's fifth year." A proud twinkle appeared in Merope's eyes. "Dippet himself invited me because Tommy got a Special Award for Services to the School. He's such a good boy. He brings home nothing but straight 'O's and this year he even made Head Boy."

Hermione smiled softly as she spotted that loving expression on Merope's eyes. She wondered if her own mother would have looked like this if she hadn't… hadn't… There was a painful stab in Hermione heart as she thought of her mother. She tensed as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright, Penny?"

"Yes, Mrs Riddle." Hermione forced a smile.

The other woman sent her a warm smile. "Call me Merope."

A happy glimmer appeared in Merope's eyes as she suggested, "After Tommy graduates, you two could come and live here until you know what you want to do next. It would be so nice having Tommy back. He doesn't visit often, you know. He's always so busy with studying."

Merope giggled and joked, "I wish there was a spell to turn him back into a baby, so I could cuddle with him all day."

Hermione smiled at the notion.

"Ah well, you can't turn back time." Merope took another sip from her lemonade. "It wouldn't be such a good idea anyway. We really had a hard time, back then."

Hermione's curiosity awakened, she asked cautiously, "What do you mean?"

A sad expression appeared on Merope's face and Hermione immediately regretted having posed the question.

"As I got pregnant, I had a huge fight with Tom," Merope said quietly. "We were much too young. Neither of us knew how to handle the situation."

Hermione nodded and asked gently, "Couldn't your family help you? Or Mr Riddle's?"

Merope shook her head, sadness on her face. "No. My family never approved of my relationship with Tom. They didn't want to have anything to do with Muggles. And Tom's family wasn't supportive either."

"Did you…" Hermione didn't know if she could dare to ask the question. "Did you ever consider to… you know… not to have the baby?"

Despite the nature of the question Merope smiled softly. "No. Never."

She sighed softly and leaned back on the couch. Her brown eyes wandered over Hermione as she continued gravely, "That was one of the many reasons I got into the fight with Tom. We broke up then and I left Little Hangleton."

"Oh," made Hermione. "Where did you go?"

"London." Merope laughed mirthlessly. "Me in the big city with no money and no clue."

Hermione worried her lip as she stared at Merope. "That must have been horrible."

"Yes, it wasn't easy," Merope sighed. "I got a little money from selling an old family heirloom but it wasn't much. I'm not proud of that time, but back then I went begging on the streets and even stole from people. I remember I was also out on the streets as I went into labour."

"Merlin," Hermione exclaimed, horrified.

"I was very lucky that it happened not far away from a children's home," Merope continued her story. "Someone from the staff must have found me. I can't remember much. I was in a lot of pain."

"Then you got the baby?" Hermione inquired cautiously.

"It really is a blur to me," said Merope. "I was told afterwards that the staff of the children's home called an ambulance. Apparently there were complications with the birth and I lost a lot of blood."

Hermione paled as she heard it. "Then you were lucky that you were in a hospital."

Merope nodded. "The doctors told me it was a close call. But they saved Tommy and me." A serene smile appeared on Merope's face as she added, "He was really the cutest baby you have ever seen. And already had an adorable fluff of his father's black hair."

Hermione giggled softly as she imagined Riddle as a baby. She peered at Merope's happy face and asked, "Where did you go after that? Back to Little Hangleton?"

"Oh no, no," said Merope. "I didn't want to go back to my family. And Tom never tried to find me either. So I stayed. Emily took me in."

"Who's Emily?"

"Emily Cole is her name," Merope explained. "She is the head of the children's home I told you about. I was still in the hospital as people from social services came to talk to me. I was so afraid they would take Tommy from me. But Emily resolved everything. As I was released from the hospital, she offered to let me stay with her." Merope beamed at Hermione and said, "She was… well, still is like a mother to me."

"I'm so glad nothing happened to you," Hermione replied. "It could have gone a lot worse."

"Yes," Merope agreed. "It could have."

After this Merope steered the topic of conversation to something lighter and they talked for a while. Then the door was opened and Riddle stepped into the room. His frosty eyes immediately wandered to Hermione and Merope. He coldly ignored the smile on his mother's face and said in his deep voice,

"There's something I need to talk about, mother."

Merope smiled. "Sure. What is it, honey?"

Hermione saw Riddle's jaw tensing as he heard the nickname. He didn't comment and instead said tightly,

"I want to talk in private."

"Okay, okay," Merope giggled and winked at Hermione.

She got up from the couch. Then she and Riddle left the room. Before the door closed behind them, Hermione could hear his silky voice,

"Do you remember that golden locket you always told me about? The one your mother gav-"

†

It was some time later that Hermione heard the soft clicking of her door again. She raised her eyes from her book. Riddle stood in the doorway, an odd glint in his eyes. Strands of his black hair fell into his blue eyes and a demonic smirk curled the corners of his mouth. He took a step into the room and the door snapped shut behind him. A predatory air hung around his movements as he walked over to her.

"Master Riddle?"

The infamous smirk on his face only widened and he whispered, his voice dangerously compelling,

"I missed you calling me Master."

Riddle sat down on the couch and eyed her. To break the silence, Hermione stuttered,

"D- did you want something?"

Smirk still in place, Riddle drawled smugly, "Not really."

"You seem… happy," Hermione remarked cautiously.

Riddle chuckled darkly and scanned her through his thick eyelashes. "I wouldn't say happy… but yes, I'm quite content. I had a very informative conversation with my mother regarding one of our family heirlooms."

She looked up at him, raising her eyebrows in question. Although Riddle obviously saw her silent request, he chose not to answer. Instead he reached for the book in Hermione's lap.

"The Legend of Sleepy Hollow?"

Hermione shifted nervously. "Er… I- I'm… I know I shouldn't read. It's just that…"

"A rather morbid choice." Riddle grinned amusedly down at the book. "Let me guess. My mother gave it to you, didn't she?"

Hermione nodded tentatively, berating herself that she let Riddle see her with the book. The grin still lingered on his face as Riddle handed the book back to her.

"Penny, I really don't mind you reading books."

Hermione swallowed thickly. Her hands tightened around the book and she asked disbelievingly, "You don't… mind?"

"No," he drawled. "Not at all."

Hermione stared at him with huge eyes. Tentatively a smile formed on her face. Riddle was lounging on the sofa while he looked at her interestedly. Hermione skidded closer to him which made him arch an elegant eyebrow.

He allows me to read books… was the only thing that flew through her ecstatic mind. Before she could stop herself, Hermione stretched her neck and placed a fleeting kiss on Riddle's cheek. As she realized what she had done, her face flushed red like a tomato. Quickly Hermione shot up from the sofa, trying to run away. A hand on her wrist stopped her and she was pulled back down. Two deep blue orbs bored into her and Riddle said sternly,

"Wait. You're not getting away so easily."

Hermione quickly averted her eyes from him. "I shouldn't have done that."

"No, you shouldn't have," Riddle hissed dangerously, making her flinch.

He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her over to him. Hermione awkwardly leaned against his chest, not daring to move. Suddenly amusement tinted his voice as Riddle whispered,

"At least not without finishing what you started."

Two fingers under her chin tilted Hermione's face up. Riddle bent down to her and crashed his lips against her own. Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt the tip of his tongue brushing along the seam of her mouth. Pleasant tingles ran all over her body. Riddle nibbled demandingly at her lower lip, his teeth biting her. Hermione didn't dare respond to his kiss but she nestled closer to him. As Riddle finally released her, her head spun. He smirked at her and commented, unaffected,

"Maybe we should get you some books about magic, Penny."

She stared at him before she blurted out, "Hermione."

Riddle quirked an inquisitive eyebrow and Hermione's eyes widened in fear. Why had she said that? It had left her lips before she could have stopped herself.

"What?"

"Er…" Hermione mumbled, scared by his penetrating blue eyes. "That's… um…"

"Stop stammering," he reprimanded her sternly.

"I'm sorry."

"Who's Hermione then?" Riddle inquired.

She averted her eyes and had them downcast as she replied in a shaky voice, "That's me. My name."

"Your name is Hermione?" Riddle asked softly.

She nodded.

"What about Penny?"

"I got that name after I was bought by the Malfoy family," she whispered.

Surprisingly, Riddle snickered at that and a derisive smirk curled up his mouth.

"Let me guess," he said, dark amusement in his deep voice. "'Hermione' was too complicated for the lot of them?"

A soft giggle left her as she heard that but she quickly supressed it.

"Hermione, hm?" Riddle mused, scanning her. "Wife of Leontes, King of Sicily."

"You know Shakespeare?" Hermione asked, unable to stifle her surprise.

"Always the surprise," Riddle commented amusedly.

Hermione blushed. "I didn't mean…" Then she mumbled defensively, "Not many wizards know Shakespeare."

Glancing at him shyly, she told him, "My mother always said she named me after Harmonia. Harmonia is-"

"-the Goddess of harmony and concord," Riddle supplied.

Hermione nodded and explained, "In Greek mythology, Harmonia is the daughter of War and Love. Later she married a prince, Cadmus of Thebes."

A smirk was on Riddle's face as he commented quietly, "On their wedding day, Cadmus made Harmonia a present."

Hermione didn't understand the dark humour dancing in Riddle's eyes and he obviously didn't want to share. He merely continued his story,

"He presented her with a golden necklace."

Riddle snickered softly, obviously enjoying some kind of inside-joke. He leaned back on the sofa, his arms spread wide and lying on the backrest, and concluded,

"A magical necklace which granted the wearer eternal youth… eternal life."

Riddle's starkly blue eyes snapped back to Hermione. The dark smirk still curved his lips as he surveyed her.

"Cadmus and Harmonia," he sighed amusedly. "In the end, the Gods played foul with them. Cadmus was turned into a snake."

The smirk on his face widened and he asked, "Do you know the rest of the story?"

Hermione nodded, confused by the odd glint in his eyes. She tensed as Riddle suddenly slid closer to her on the sofa. He slung an arm around Hermione's shoulders, pulling her nearer. His other hand gently tucked her curly hair behind her ear.

"Grieved by her husband's transformation, Harmonia stripped naked and beckoned Cadmus to come over to her," Riddle whispered in Hermione's ear, his melodious voice sending shivers down her spine. "In his snake-form, Cadmus complied with her."

Hermione gasped as she then felt Riddle's hand running from her shoulder down her arm while he whispered, his breath hot against her skin,

"He slithered over her body, fondling her."

His hand left her arm and his fingers found the rim of her shirt. Hermione's head began to swirl as Riddle's hand slipped underneath her clothes and came to rest lying warmly on her stomach. Her breathing was shallow now, the feeling of his fingers against her bare skin throwing her into a whirlwind of emotions.

Riddle's hand still rested on her stomach while his other arm was wrapped around her shoulders. All rational thoughts left her mind as he leaned down to her and placed tender kisses over her neck. Hermione shuddered as she felt his soft lips against her. Each contact sent electrical shocks through her. Hermione gasped softly as the hand on her stomach moved. A tingling feeling followed Riddle's fingers as they danced upwards. They barely touched her skin, but that brief contact still evoked pleasant shivers on Hermione's body. His hand now dangerously close to her breast, Riddle buried his face in her curly hair. Hermione's whole body was on fire as his hot breath skimmed over the skin of her neck. She couldn't help it anymore. Yielding to that burning need in her, Hermione pressed herself desperately against him.

Riddle's melodious laughter washed over her. Abruptly he pulled his hands from her and leaned away. Hermione shuddered from the cold his absence inflicted. Riddle eyed her, dark smirk curving his lips, before he purred,

"Seeing her dazed state, the Gods took pity on Harmonia and turned her into a snake as well."

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

'And there, they say, two bright and aged snakes,

Who once were Cadmus and Harmonia,

Bask in the glens or on the warm sea-shore,

In breathless quiet, after all their ills;

– Matthew Arnold

(*1822 †1888)