The Beast In Me

Title: Fascination Is A Dangerous Beast
By: eli
Rating: M for Mature stuff
Character(s): Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle.
Pairings: Hermione/Tom.
Beta babes: alibi_boo & her_bubble
Total Length: 3,514
Warnings: Coarse language, suggestive groping & imagery
Spoilers: Everything really...
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Are the property of the brilliant JK Rowling.

A/N: yes I know everyone and their little dog too has done a time travel Hermione-Tom/mini Lord-of-all-that-is-evil-in-the-making. But hey this just wouldn’t go away until I got it out of my system. So no throwing time turners at the poor muse ok! And I want to give a big cookie and hugs to my beta babes…luv you darlin’s *wink* So any mistakes in here are my fault. As I tweaked it yet again before posting.

Summary: Poor Tom Riddle is starting to hear voices in his head…

Black is the color of my true love's hair
All tumbling satin everywhere
If I should lose myself somewhere
My true love will find me there

Black is the color of my true love's eyes
Darker than a starless night
When I'm drowning and feeling blind
My true love will hold me tight

Black is the color of my true love's heart
Bleeding from Cupid's dart
We will never be apart
My true love and I in the dark


Black - The Shroud



~ Tom's P.O.V ~

Because she retreated, he advanced.

Hermione continued backing away from him until she was good and trapped in the dark old corner of the ancient school hall. He put his hands on her shoulders lightly. Almost hesitating for a moment before letting them settle. She felt curiously fragile beneath his touch. And he knew it wouldn’t take much strength to crush those bones.

He was very strong he knew it. He used it. Fuck, he revelled in it.

He let his thumbs brush against the hollow beneath her collarbone. Almost caressing and then he felt her tremble ever so faintly.

Her eyelids were lowered refusing to let him into her head. Or see the conflicting fight or flight response evident in her tautly held muscles. He knew she was unaware he could easily see inside her head. Tom could taste her fear and desire like a promise of a sweeter darkness on his tongue. He could sense it. Breathe it. And felt it in the back of his throat he was surrounded by her unique scent.

Tom inhaled deeply and watched in amusement as her muscle’s wound tighter in direct response. Her defiant stance while trapped in the corner screaming its tension to him. Evident in every lean curving line of that small delectable body. And he knew that mixed with that fight or flight conflicting panic was unwilling fascination.

He decided to see how far he could push her. To find out if she tasted as good as she smelt. But mostly to see how far he would get before getting slapped or cursed by the delicious Miss Hermione Granger. Not that he was too worried he knew curses by this stage that would have her tremble in pure panic. But then she was full of surprises. He wouldn’t be fascinated by her if he could predict all her actions. The thought of what she might do if he kissed her brings an evil twinkle to his dark eyes. In response she narrows her eyes in a warning. But that only makes him want to taste her more.

Tom bent down and put his lips against hers wanting to see what she will do. One smooth movement that to him was slow. And to her he knew would seem to happen too quickly for her to react. He could taste the coffee she had drunk earlier that day and her lip-balm. The tang of spiking anger mingled with surprise.

But most of all he could taste the desire.

Increasing the pressure, strangely gentle for him if he had been observing himself. Tom felt her mouth open beneath his unwillingly. He moved his hands down her arms in slow exploration of unknown territory. Wanting to touch the skin hidden under the material of her uniform. Giving her no warning he captured her wrists and pulled them around his neck roughly. Before pulling her body flush up against his almost viciously. He wanted to groan with the intensely tactile pleasure of her squished against him helplessly.

He felt his unwilling fascination start to slip his self-imposed leash. He felt it fray dangerously around the edges. Felt the tip of her tongue lightly almost questioningly touch his before retreating rapidly. Abruptly again giving no warning he invaded her. Took her mouth without apology. Almost raped her mouth with bruising force. Almost but not quite.

The first tremor that swept over her body was fear.

The second was something else again. As he felt her nipples harden against his chest underneath the school regulation clothing. The softening of her mouth was almost a loss of innocence in and of itself. She made a tiny muffled sound. The sound of protest rapped and entwined around surrender. That sound made him so hard and erect as he slid his tongue against hers. Pushing her. Forcing her to accept him.

Or run.

He needed an answer even as he felt her magic call to his. Enticing him. Luring him to drown in the scented landscape of her body. To drown and crash on the rocks of that enticing darkness hidden so well inside her. Buried so deep no one but him he was certain could sense it. But it was there luring him with a magical siren lure to drown in her.

His unwilling response to that unconscious call to his sense to the point of desire riddled fury. Hell he was enraged.

And still he wanted more.

Tom was enraged that she’d reached him, again. He was beyond pissed over the lurking thought that he was starting something that he couldn’t control. That voice in the back of his head that whispered to him every damn time he felt her near. That voice that whispered he was heading down a one way street. A one way street with the warning signs that she was going to be his personal hell. And still he found he couldn’t break away. Her scent a mixture of cinnamon, white musk and sandalwood filled his head with dark urges. That scent which had been slowly maddeningly sending him into a deeper level of insanity. With the urge to grab and devour her whole.

He’d stalked her. Intent on testing her and seeing how far he could push her. Ever since she had shown up calling herself Hermione Smith in 1944 at Hogwarts. He knew she had no idea that he had already advanced enough on his chosen path. Knew she was unaware that he had some inkling of why that idiot Dumbledore was manipulating her. What with all their private meetings and supposed chance encounters in the school halls. He was surprised they didn’t just simply hold up a placard over their heads screaming plotting to stop the Dark Lord! and be done with it.

I mean Smith? Come on he thought snorting mentally again at the idiocy of her choice of surname. He was fairly certain Sir Dumb-and-Dumber had chosen that particular moniker. After all he refused to be sexually compelled by an idiot. And Hermione he had discovered was no moron. It had been almost embarrassing at how turned on he found himself whenever she focused all that brain power on one target. One day he was determined all that energy and intensity would be focused on one thing alone.

Him.

After so long he found that he was around someone who didn’t struggle in keeping up with his thoughts. It almost made him worried at times at how she was able to follow his arguments in class. God knew no one else could, but then after so long. He had grown accustomed at just how gullible and amazingly stupid both Wizards and Muggles alike could be. Fuck! He didn’t exactly have to expend much of his considerable mental powers in fooling everyone.

But still that voice was constantly whispering in the back of his head. Telling him that it wouldn’t be long before she pieced it altogether. He knew with a natural born predator’s awareness. That unlike Albus Dumb-a-dor this little witch had the dormant capabilities of being almost as cunning, devious and intelligent as him. And the knowledge only made him want her more. Only made the urge to claim her irrevocably rise closer to the surface. Heightening with each glare she sent his way when she was sure he wasn’t looking.

Tom had wanted to see with almost clinical fascination if she would scream. The same way all the endlessly fascinated girls did. When he let his darker self surface just a little. He wanted to taste Hermione’s terror on his tongue and feel the stinging tickling sensation of it.

Instead she’d pushed back.

Crawling inside his skin, so that her hands were not the only ones trembling. Her body not the only one shaking ever so slightly.

She smelled like sex and lies.

She felt like bittersweet wishes.

She tasted like strength and truth laced with darkness and power.

He threaded his hands through her thick brown tangled mane of hair. Wanting to wallow in the exotic sensory texture. Tom slanted his mouth deeper across hers. He liked this whole kissing deal when it came to this one small little witch. Mostly because when he really got going and started biting her bottom lip. Until droplets of blood surfaced on her bottom lip. She didn’t whimper and run. Instead, she bit back calling an unwilling smirk of appreciation to surface in response to her uninhibited need.

The knowledge that this girl was not like all the others was an unsettling awareness. That unfortunately he was too smart to be able to ignore. Hell he was a fucking genius as the whole world would soon come to appreciate.

In time they would all know the real meaning of domination and submission.

Enthralled despite himself by the rise of dark almost animalistic passion in her. Even through her efforts not to respond. He unconsciously revelled in feeling the surrender racing just beneath the surface of her heated flesh. Almost begging for him to take a quick bite. And then another. The effort to not leave his mark on that delectable spot at the base of her neck. Right next to that tiny freckle was almost unbearable. But he was too unsettled by his reactions over this tiny dynamo. So he held back.

He could have her. Could take her right now against the wall while the school slept around them. Tom knew with a bone deep knowledge that he could make Hermione scream from pain laced pleasure. Until the old wooden rafters trembled over their heads. He knew she could reach him like no one else had. And the acid bite of that thought made his fingers tremble ever so slightly.

It didn’t change a damn thing unfortunately that no one but him was aware of just how much she got to him. Ever since she had literally dropped into this very same hall two months and four days ago. He had deemed it wise to not inform her that he had witnessed her fall from thin air. As she crashed on the hard stone of the hallway floor. Upon seeing her appear out of thin air he had retreated back around the corner he had just passed to observe and plot. After all he knew that knowledge was power.

When he had looked at the kneeling young woman with her wild mane of brown hair lowered towards the floor. As she shook from what looked like the worst case of Apparition dry heaves he has seen. Tom had felt something unnamed move in his chest. Tightening in the strangest manner. As his dark gaze traced the amazing mass of all shades of brown that was the young witch’s hair.

Tom never knew what made her look up directly at his lurking spot. No one in the past had been able to detect him unless he wanted. And as the young woman had lifted her head to meet his controlled completely composed blank expression. Right then as he witnessed her shocked brown deer like eyes. He had felt fate snickering at him somewhere in the distance.

Remembering the unsettling feeling again he snarled against her mouth. As she gasped a strangled moan of desire. He thrust her against a convenient stone wall and let her feel his whole weight holding her pinned to the wall. He knew she was surprised at his strength given his lean thin frame. But then they always where taken by surprise at his physical strength given his bookish manner.

Tom knew he could slide his hands down into the neckline of her school top and cup her breasts. Taste her nipples with cat like strokes until her knees gave out. Or he could push her down on the cold stone floor and rip her skirt out of the way. Tom knew he could fuck her hard. And she wouldn’t protest.

She would cry and she would come. He would make her come so hard and fast she would never be able to wipe him off her skin. He knew things from studying the Dark Arts that would make her loose consciousness under the intensity of pain/pleasure he could give her. And then she would run away.

Too soon.

He released her. Slowly almost reluctantly taking a step away from her in order to give her a false sense of security. Not admitting even to himself he was trying to distance himself. From the taste, the heat and the scent of her. Hermione looked up at him. Her brown eyes dark with shock and confusion. And then her eyelids fluttered closed and she groaned almost to low to be heard. A soft despairing sound that would have torn at softer hearts than his. The sound only made him harder. He could play it out. Toy with her. Push her. He was tempted to. The need that spiked through his body was strong and fierce.

“Do I frighten you, Hermione?”

His abrupt low smooth question broke her internal confusion. Shattering the silence that had surrounded them. Hermione lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye. Tom smirked in silent unwilling admiration as she mentally contemplated the options of decking him or kicking him.

“Yes”.

Hermione kept looking him straight in the eye with a deadly clear stare. He had to give her credit for her honesty. He wanted to frighten her. He wanted to scare her half to death. And he wanted her to want him anyway. Be willing to do anything for him.

“Do you think I’m going to take you? Do you think I’m going to make you want me until you scream and beg for more?”

“Are you?”

“Sooner or later I’ll answer that question. And I don’t think you’re going to like what I say.”

“Then don’t tell me.”

“Stop asking”.

She bit her lip, biting back the words she no doubt wanted to fling at his head. Her lips were still damp and reddened from his mouth. And suddenly he wanted her more powerfully than before.

“What do you want from me?”

She asked with a trace of desperation scraping around the edge of every word.

Tom let his glance slide down her small lush body. Achingly slowly. And then raised his dark blue almost black eyes back to her solemn gaze. Quirked one strong dark eyebrow and tilted his firm mouth in a half grin he knew pissed her off immensely. That’s why he did it.

“What makes you think I want something from you?”

Tom watched her process the blatant lie with enjoyment. He could almost see her controlling her bodily urge to flip him off. Her right hand twitched once and he hauled back his urge to fuck her right then with an iron will that only just held him back.

“I’m not an idiot, even if I act like one sometimes.”

“I haven’t seen you act like an idiot recently. Although you do have a tendency to hang out with Professor Dumb-a-dor-a-lot.”

Tom responded with a slight sneer as if he had just smelt something disgusting waft into the room.

“Try a minute ago kissing you.”

“Actually, Hermione. I didn’t notice you doing any of the kissing. Granted you didn’t slap my face and screech how dare you? like an outraged virginal bitch.”

It was a lie. Tom watched as her head tilted to the side appraising him. The surprise at his words making her blink at him. Still retaining his Legilamency he heard her confused self-directed query as to why he would be lying so blatantly. After all they had both felt her response. In a thousand yearning blatant and not so blatant ways. But he couldn’t resist messing with her head just a little bit more.

The color on her cheeks deepened as she glared at him. Making him smirk condescendingly down at her. The thrill of their sarcastic exchange tingling in the most interesting places inside him. She had no idea how much he genuinely enjoyed sparring with someone. Who was somewhere near his level mentally. He made damn sure she had no idea of that though.

“What do you want from me?”

Still she persisted as her mouth tightened into a straight line of pure stubborn. Tom reached out a pale hand his long clever fingers poised. Waiting to see whether she’d try to flinch. Hermione held her ground. But he could see the muscle clench at the base of her jaw. As his strong narrow fingers brushed the side of her cheek ever so gently.

“Maybe just a taste of innocence”.

He murmured almost too softly to be heard. Tom could tell by her puzzled expression his usual mask must have slipped ever so slightly. And shown things he didn’t want seen. She opened her mouth and he watched her guardedly. As she changed what she was going to say to something more careful. Well more careful than the thoughts and speculations flying around in that endlessly fascinating mind of hers.

“I’m not innocent”.

Tom laughed in her face. After a few seconds he controlled the genuine amusement that had captured him. Before straightening up as her muscles started to tense in preparation for movement. And suddenly she found he was staring her in the face. Scarily powerful dark eyes. With just the briefest flash of red capturing hers with a deadly intensity.

Hermione’s breath misted between them in the minute space separating them as she held his stare. The effort of doing so showing in her tightening mouth. Waiting she was a cornered animal and he the hunter. Again, despite himself Tom was deeply impressed by her ability to hold his powerful gaze. Very few could. Impressed he decided to answer her.

“Compared to me you are”.

“Compared to you, anyone is.”

He watched her wince as she realised she may have let slip more than she wanted. And he inwardly chuckled at her annoyed mouth twitching as she huffed air at him.

“Perhaps.”

His response was just the right degree of mockery as her let his fingers play across her lips. And they were soft faintly clinging to the skin of his fingers. Tom could feel himself harden at the sensation. He wanted her with a strangely bittersweet flavoured rush. The weird urge to cradle her was unsettling him. And at the same time he wanted to rip her clothes off and fuck her. Until she surrendered on every level of her being. He wanted to crawl inside her head and curl around her so tight she would never get him out.

Tom realized something in that minute while watching his fingers enjoy the feel of her heated skin. She really was quite unique. He noticed her. He still didn’t know what role she would play in his plans. But play a part she would as he took what he wanted. No apologies. No answers given. Hermione Smith was going to be his. Maybe not now. Maybe not for a long, long time.

But still she would be claimed and branded. He could feel it twinging at the edges of his future. With a strange and sure knowledge. That made him smirk again at her. Unable to resist the twitch of his lips as he waited for the glare. That always rose when she saw that smirk of his. The one he saved solely for her. To see her heated temper rise and those dark brown eyes spit at him.

“Perhaps I want to bring you to my level. Corrupt you, destroy and remake you utterly until...”

He let the words trial off ever so lightly and softly mocking. And it took a good long solid minute for her eyes to grow cold with fear. For her mouth to tighten. For her to take a step away from him. And then another.




End This Part