Green Eyes

Hermione quickly scrambled up from the floor. Still, he was so much bigger and taller than her that it didn't make much of a difference. Riddle's grey eyes and wand-tip followed her progress lazily. His face was a mask of relaxed, chiselled beauty, except for a small smirk.

He inclined his head slightly, not lowering his wand. "Good morning, Miss Hart."

Hermione stared back at him, trying to calculate how fast she could reach her wand. As if reading her thoughts, Riddle cocked an eyebrow. "Don't even think about it." he said softly, and with a slight flick of his wand coaxed Hermione's out of her pocket. Hermione's heart sank as her only hope floated into Riddle's robe pocket.

Riddle cocked his head to the side, and then flicked his wand again. In an instant Hermione was dragged a little up the wall and her arms and legs bound to the wall behind her.

Hermione had never felt so defenceless in her life, and forgot her fear in her outrage.

"You realize how unethical this is, don't you?" she spat, her green eyes spitting sparks.

Riddle chuckled softly. "Ah, Miss Hart, since when have you considered me a man of ethics? I'd have thought our first meeting might have disproved that right off the bat.” He raised his eyebrows. “Really, what kind of man would leave a dieing girl in the rain just because he couldn't be bothered to help her?" Riddle shook his head mockingly at his own depravity.

"And what, exactly, is it that you want? What is so important that you have to lock me in some forgotten dungeon classroom and bind me to a wall?" Hermione hissed. "Do you know, you've just broken six...no, SEVEN school rules. And you haven't even said anything to me yet!" In her panic she was relapsing into lecture mode. "Plus, wrongfully depriving any witch or wizard of his or her wand is breaking Decree 34 of-”

Another flick of Riddle's wand silenced Hermione.

"Don't be mistaken by my repeated use of the Silencing Charm, Miss Hart. I do love the sweet sound of your voice. But I have a little something to tell you, and I feel I need it to be quite silent."

He ran his hand through his mahogany waves, and Hermione had to admit that her knees went weak at the sight. Even now she felt his dark attraction sucking at her like a hungry magnet.

With fluid grace he ambled forward and leant over Hermione, resting his hand against the wall above her head. Effectively bound and gagged, Hermione could only tremble, and look up into the sparkling, steely eyes that hungrily raked over her slowly, again and again.

"You probably think I resent your little duel performance last Friday. I won't lie. I do." He drawled softly. With these words, he reached up and begun to play softly with her hair with his other hand.

"But I'll tell you a little something about me you probably don't know. I find strong magical power in witches...dreadfully attractive."

Hermione was only half-concentrating on his words. He was now running a finger over her collarbone softly. Every time his fingers touched her pale skin, she felt seared.

"You, Miss Hart, happen to be the most powerful witch I have ever met. I admit I was interested in you ever since seeing you dieing in the rain. But watching you, my delicate little dragon, breathing your fire yesterday, was simply ...erotic."

Hermione so was shocked that he should find her attractive (it was Lord Voldemort after all. Wasn't he supposed to be incapable of normal social interaction?) that her cheeks began to stain red. Riddle chuckled, and ran his thumb over her blushing cheekbone. "So modest as well. It seems I've found a little treasure in you."

He paused, and softly cupped her face in one hand, again dragging the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. Hermione felt herself drowning in a pool of cool and sparkling steel. "I think it's the colour of your eyes I love most." he mused thoughtfully. "Is it not fitting that the Heir of Slytherin's consort should have green eyes, like her master?"

It took Hermione a few seconds to figure out the import of these words. She, Tom Riddle's CONSORT? Tom Riddle, her MASTER? What was going on here? Despite the medieval dungeon surroundings, she was pretty sure they were still living in the 20th century.

Riddle chuckled. "Look at your eyes widen. I wonder, are you scared, or angry about what I just said?" He said, brushing Hermione's soft ebony locks from her eyes as he mused. "Perhaps you are overjoyed. I have been told that I am quite the charmer. By the way, in answer to your unspoken question - no, you do not have any choice about being my mistress."

Hermione's face now looked incredulous.

"No doubt you are now wondering how I am going to get you to go along with this little...scheme." Stepping back from her, he drew out his wand. "Don't worry - I have my ways." He murmured. His chiselled face and dark hair in the half-light of the dungeon was still enough to make Hermione go weak at the knees. His dark beauty pulled at her.

Riddle was now holding his wand aloft, pointed straight at her chest. Muttering a spell she didn't catch, he began to move his wand downwards. Her black Hogwarts robes were cut in half down the middle, revealing a light summer dress underneath.

Hermione steeled herself to be stripped down to nudity by Tom Riddle. She was past embarrassment now.

"Now, Miss Hart; you probably think I am going to act like every other crude sexual predator you have ever heard of, and strip you down for some sort of enjoyment. I am not so crass - believe it or not, I am a fan of conventional love making." He smirked, and added silkily, "but we'll get to that later, won't we?"

His wand was now cutting through her dress, falling open to reveal her voluptuous breasts, encased in a lacy black bra above the swell of her unblemished, pale stomach.

Riddle's eyes darkened with lust, and he sucked in a breath as he saw more of Hermione than he ever had before. Those Hogwarts robes had left too much to the imagination.

"I'm going to mark you," he said now, once he had forced his eyes away from her heaving chest. "You are mine, and no one else's - this mark will help you remember that." His eyes flicked into her face, watching how this information was taken. "This mark will allow me to know where you are at all times. And if you, by any chance, should feel the need to tell someone about our little...arrangement, the mark will produce an acid that will slowly burn your stomach away. Do I make myself clear?" His silky voice gained a harder, more dangerous edge. Hermione nodded as best she could, frozen with fear like a deer in the headlights.

Riddle was not finished. "Ah yes, one last thing. If any other male so much as brushes his finger along your skin, you will experience... interesting consequences." He smiled eerily, his dark beauty surrounding him like a halo, his stormy eyes glinting. "I won't have other men touching what's mine."

Riddle was about to raise his wand when he spotted the tiny Time Turner around Hermione's neck. For the first time ever, Riddle looked uneasy.

Quickly pocketing the Timeturner, he said, "I don't think you'll need this anymore, Hart. Wouldn't want you escaping off to another time now, would we?" Even as Hermione's stomach dropped with disappointment, she felt a thrill of elation - somehow, she knew that the Timeturner was the only escape from the cage Riddle was about to put her in.

Riddle now pointed his wand at her stomach. "This will hurt, by the way," he added nonchalantly.

Riddle's wand emitted a blood red light, and he began to trace a design into the soft curve of her stomach. she could feel the skin of her stomach burning and blackening under the tracing wand tip. It was excruciating, but all Hermione could do was writhe in silence, merely screwing her eyes against the pain. After a few minutes of torture her vision began to go spotty.

A few seconds later she blacked out, her body taking its last resort from the assault.

...

She came to some time later. She was now alone in the classroom. She had been laid across a table, and starlight shone through the dingy dungeon window across her still bare stomach.

One glance at her marred stomach was enough to make her want to pass out again.

The note that lay across her belly told her what she already knew. "I call it the Dark Mark. -Tom." Beholding the gigantic Dark Mark etched in ridged lines across her stomach, Hermione felt sick. The skull nestled cross her upper stomach, and the green-eyed snake wriggled around her belly button with slow solemnity.

She started sobbing when the irony of the situation hit her with full force.

She had come down to the dungeons to kill Tom Riddle, and he had made her the world's first Death Eater instead.

________

A/N - did you enjoy? : p