The Way You Smirk

She knew she was dreaming. It couldn't be nothing else than a dream. Because exactly three feet ahead of her was standing Tom Marvolo Riddle in all his glory.

This was dream for two reasons, Tom was no longer Tom, but Lord Voldemort, the biggest threat in all the Wizarding world, and, of course, he was defeated by Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived And Kept On Living, not long time ago.

So there was nothing that could proof Hermione Granger that she wasn't dreaming. But when dreamy Tom came closer, with his face good two inches away from hers, she deeply inhaled his soft, slytherin-like smell and looked deep into dark brown abyss of his eyes. He took her hand and put it on his chest. She felt his heart bumping, a feeling that sent shivers down her spine and made gooseflesh appear on her arms and back. Loud thudding was good prove of the opposite, because she didn't think she had such a good imagination that could impersonate such feelings and sounds.

And still he was right there, his eyes drilling a hole in her eyes, but neither looked away. Tom (which Hermione still didn't know if he's dream or not, but decided she'll just see and have a hell of a dream, if it turns out to be an illusion) saw different emotions in Hermione's eyes, like she saw something she couldn't believe. And perhaps that might be because he should be dead by all laws.

Then Tom turned his head around and saw they were in a little house, probably vacation home, because outside the windows was pale blue sky, sandy beach and miles of nothing but beach and occasionally palm trees. Sea gulls were flying around without any final destination and it was all peaceful and calm. And this calmness was ruined by Hermione's ear-piercing shriek.

She needed to get it out of herself. Tom looked at her curiously and dropped her hand. Then he decided it was time for girl to shut the hell up, so he closed the distance between them and kissed her. It worked, she was no longer making any noises.

He just kept on kissing her, softly nibbling her lower lip and tried to open her mouth with his tongue. As her lips parted, he traced tongue on the inner side of her cheek, causing a tingling sensation. He felt her half-smile against his lips, and that made him continue.

He softly bit her in the full lower lip and kept on fighting her tongue with his in a passionate battle for dominance. They just stood there, kissing, while soft breeze blew from through the window and messing their hair. After few minutes, Tom pulled back and just looked at her.

She wasn't tall, perhaps five foot four, and very thin. Small breasts, small hips, everything about her was so small. Everything but her hair. It was like a tornado on her head, hundreds of small, dark brown curls were twisting and twirling in every possible direction. Her eyes were brown, too. Almost exact shade of brown that her hair had, but a little bit lighter. And those eyes were staring at him, examining every piece of his face.

He was a head taller than her. His hair was black and wavy. His eyes were deep brown. His figure was slim, but not thin; muscles were clearly visible under thin t-shirt he wore. He reached out his hand and cupped her face. She looked at him with terror in her eyes, but didn't dare to move.

“Shh... Don't be afraid... I won't hurt you.” He whispered softly before pulling her into tight embrace.

She was shaking in his arms and buried his face deeply into his chest. He smelled so nice. She couldn't define the smell, but it smelled expensive. She didn't know why was that.

Then she felt his tongue tracing her earlobe, making her shiver in pleasure. She just leaned in his touch, and pushed all her second thoughts far back at the edge of her mind. She'll deal with them later.

He slid his tongue down the line of her jaw. She moaned softly; he gave her butterflies in stomach just with slow movements of his tongue. Then he leaned her back, she was practically lying in his arms, with feet on the ground, and he kissed her neck passionately. He pressed harder and left a scorching mark near her collarbone.

They moved back, tightly embraced, until Hermione hit the side of the bed with her legs. She laid down on the bed and Tom on top of her.

He gently caressed side of her face with one hand, other one firmly pressed into the mattress next to her head. He traced his hand down her cheek, neck, breast, stomach and stopped at her hip.

That was this time when she lost control of herself and only wanted more. She dug her left hand into his hair, feeling silky, soft texture of it, and her right hand slit down his neck, leaving four long blood-red scratches on his neck. She scratched him hard, because crimson red blood drops started to drip down on collar of her white tank top.

But he didn't seem to notice, he just continued kissing her softly, changing pace every now and then. He brought his hand to the edges of her top and pulled it upwards. She wasn't wearing any bra, he happily found out. Then he slid from her lips to her neck and down her collarbone, stopping at her nipple.

He took it in his mouth and softly bit it. This action sent shivers down her spine, but she wanted more. Her nipples were starting to get firm and formed peaks. Then he moved that hand he had on her hip and made quite an effort of pulling off her jeans, for they were tightly buckled on her hips. But at last all of his tiring efforts were payed off. Her jeans were lying on the floor of the room in messy pile.

Hermione found herself totally absorbed by his motions while she started to unbutton his shirt. One button, two button, and shirt joined her jeans on the floor.

She couldn't hide her look of admiration as his perfect body was revealed. He wasn't quite buff, but he wasn't thin either. He was just in the perfect middle.

He seemed to have notice her admiring look on his body, 'cause he smiled, but said nothing.

Her hands continued to trail down and up on his back, while his hand traveled down to her hips and between her thighs. She was fully aroused, causing him no trouble to slid his finger in her wetness. She screamed in pleasure as he played with her clit and teased it with his slender fingers. Then he stuck in another finger and dug deeply with a gentle thrust. She gasped for air. It was unbelievable how much pleasure he brought her, only with fingers. She couldn't wait for more.

She trailed her hands to his belt and quickly undid it. Then she pulled down his trousers and threw them aside. She stopped for a second to see his whole treasure, which was, from the state of his black boxers, quite large. She didn't hesitate in pulling off his underwear.

They were both lying on the bed, completely naked, in each other's embrace, and looking deeply into each other's eyes. Hermione couldn't help but think that what they were doing was terribly wrong. He should be dead. She should be with Ron.

Ron.

Her boyfriend. She haven't thought of him since this very moment and needless to say, she felt incredibly guilty. The redhead really loved her. And she just went and betrayed his love with something like that. And with someone who they all hated! But everything seemed to fade away when she was staring into deep, abyssal eyes of her enemy. Her nemesis. Person she loathed. Person who despised her. Who despised all Muggle-borns.

But then he kissed her and vanished all her second thoughts.

She caressed his muscled body and her hand stopped at his cock. It felt huge in her small hand, hot and throbbing. She trailed her hand up and down on it and he moaned in pleasure. Then they turned around, so she was on top, and she lowered down until she was touching his cock with her lips.

She played with the head, licking it from bottom to top, causing him to moan. She enjoyed his little sounds of pleasure, then took his whole head in the mouth and started traveling up and down on it. She swallowed it until it touched back of her throat and she was feeling rather suffocating pain. Then she squeezed muscles in her throat tight, and he screamed hoarsely. She felt he was very near the end, so she repeated it all over again. She felt his soft cum spreading in her mouth, and she swallowed every single drop of it.

He couldn't take it any longer. He turned her around, so he was on top again and with one deep thrust he was in her. She screamed as she felt him inside her, breathing heavily and eyes closed. He pulled out and in a few more times, and she felt she's near the finale.

And she was. After few more seconds she felt waves of pleasure rushing through her, making her vaginal muscles tighten and her body tensed. Then she completely relaxed, pleasure still waving in her from head to toes.

He looked at her with smile on his beautiful face, when he climaxed for the second time, and then collapsed on the bed right beside her.

She watched him as he feel asleep almost immediately and couldn't help but being terrified. What the Hell had she done? She slept with the most powerful dark wizard of all the times. And just because she didn't think it was real. Because he should be defeated. But then she got hit by a wave of nausea. This man killed thousands! He was her best friend's worst enemy. And she betrayed Harry like this! She rushed to the bathroom with her hands tightly clasped on her mouth. She threw up loudly, but Voldemort luckily didn't heard, he was too deep in his sleep for that.

Then she realized. Neither of them cast a contraception spell. She just as might be pregnant! She might carry young Voldemort! Hermione couldn't help, she fell unconscious on the floor of the bathroom, her cheek resting against cool marble floor. But luckily, she realized in about twenty seconds.

She stood up, splashed her face with cold water, and went towards the bedroom.

There he was, Tom, naked, covered in sheets on one half of the big bed. She yawned and lied down next to him. She was asleep in a matter of minutes, not giving second look to untidy bedroom.

When she woke up the next day, blinded by hot summer sun, at first, she haven't remembered anything. But then it hit her. She was afraid of opening her eyes and face the horror. But she slowly opened one eye, expecting to find an unconscious man next to her, but instead of that, she saw clean bedroom, her clothes hanging from her chair, no sign of anybody but her in that room.

It was just a dream. She felt incredibly happy. She wouldn't have to lie to her friends. She haven't cheated on Ron, the love of her life. Everything was perfect.

And with that, she stood up, attempting to get a shower. But then she froze.

Right there, on floor right next to bed, she saw a black object. Not knowing what it was, she picked it up and forget how to breathe.

She was holding black man's boxers.