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.

A/N- The following collection is a group of disconnected one-shots I wrote to keep myself busy and motivated during the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic.  Each story is either a response to one of the Tumblr asks I get or just a random short my brain came up with instead of working on any of my longer fics! If you are interested in submitting an ask, my Tumblr username is: wild0kitsune

Rating: MA (mostly)


  • Summary- (quitethesardonic asked: Tomione please? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼) During a business meeting with a cutthroat corporate lawyer Hermione witnesses her husband cheating on her. She drinks too much at the meeting and does some things she might regret in the morning.
  • Main Characters- Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger
  • Progress- Completed

Open Wounds

  • Summary- After years of haunting his dreams and nightmares, Juniper must face the woman who almost devoured his soul.  This is a genderswap fic.  Male Ginny Weasley (Juniper) and Female Voldemort
  • Main Characters- Ginny Weasley, Lady Voldemort
  • Progress- Completed


  • Summary- (Anon asked: Tomione, Tom is Hermione’s head of security) After an attempt on her life, Hermione gets to know the head of her security a bit better.
  • Main Characters- Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle
  • Progress- Completed

So Purple it’s Black

  • Summary- Luna is taken to Lord Voldemort’s hidden residence to be questioned by the Dark Lord himself. But his purposes may be much more insidious than he will admit.
  • Main Characters- Luna Lovegood, Lord Voldemort
  • Progress- Completed

Tome Hates Tacos

  • Summary- Hermione enjoys a casual relationship with world-renown food critic Tom Riddle.
  • Main Characters- Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle
  • Progress- Completed


Hermione stepped into the hotel restaurant and glanced around for her meeting.  It was Friday night, and she had hoped to be able to spend a night in with her family for once.  Ron constantly complained about how much of her time that work took form him and their daughter Rose.  She had set up her day so she could surprise them by getting home early and make dinner for them, but of course, even with best-laid plans, things came up.

This time that thing was a Tom Riddle.  The man had no morals, he worked for any company willing to meet his steep price tag, and unfortunately, he specialized in finding the loopholes in environmental protection laws.  But this time she had him. This time she would make sure his client not only paid to clean up their mess but her fined to the fullest extent of the law.

She had been working on getting a face to face meeting with him all week, and he finally agreed to a sit-down, but only if she came to him.

“Has Mr. Riddle arrived yet?” She asked the hostess as she couldn’t seem to spot him herself.

“You’re Hermione?” The woman asked, her eyes roving down her gray pantsuit to her sensible flats with disapproval.  She couldn’t help but notice then that most of the women in the restaurant, from patrons to waitresses, seem to have a dress code of form-fitting cocktail dresses paired with five-inch stilettos.

She rolled her eyes at the woman.  She didn’t have time to time or energy to dress like a sex kitten for work, and there was no way she would get especially dressed up to see Riddle, his ego was already the size of a city block.

“Yes.  Is he here?” She asked again as the woman made no move to direct her one way or another.

“He has arrived yet, but he’s reserved the VIP room for the two of you.” The woman said, a condescending tone. “Would you like me to take you to the room, or would you prefer to wait for him at the bar?”

“Just take me to the room.” She said as she felt her phone vibrate in her satchel.  She pulled it out as she followed the hostess towards the back of the restaurant. The alert was a text from Ron saying that he too was working late and wouldn’t be home for dinner.

Hermione grimaced, but it was good for Ron to be showing so much dedication to work.  Sometimes she wondered if he had any ambition at all. It set her a little at ease, knowing that she wouldn’t be disappointing him if this meeting with Riddle went longer than she wanted.  It would still be nice to have an evening with their daughter.

She was led up a few steps and into a private room.  It was much quester in the space, and she now understood why Riddle had chosen it.  What had looked like a long mirror on the back wall of the restaurant was, in fact, only a window from the other side.

“Your waitress will be with you soon to take your drink order.” The hostess told her before heading back towards the front.

Hermione used the time to call the nanny so she would know Ron wouldn’t be home at his usual time.  It was possible Ron already messaged her, but he didn’t often think of such things. She stood by the glass and watched for Riddle as the phone rang.

“Mrs. Granger, is there something wrong?”

“I don’t know if Mr. Weasley called or texted you, but I’m not sure when either of us will be getting home tonight.” She said as she glanced at her watch. She was still a little early for their meeting, but Riddle had never seemed like the kind to be late.

“Yeah, he asked if I could take her over to his sister’s.  He said she was spending the night over there with the cousins.” The woman said, sounding a little confused.

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” She said with a frown.  She hadn’t remembered this plan; she would have to recheck her calendar. “Well, then everything is set.” She said, not wishing to unload of the poor woman.

“Is that all you needed, Ma’am?”

“Yes.  Thanks.  Sorry to bother you, I just forgot.” She said and then hung up with the girl so she could check her calendar on her phone.  There was nothing on the family calendar about it, so she texted Ron to see when the plans had been made.

“Miss, can I get you something to drink?” The waitress has entered without Hermione’s notice, and she almost jumped.

“Just water.  I won’t be staying long.” She informed the woman before looking back at her watch.  She frowned as she realized Riddle was now a minute late. Was he using some kind of tactic on her, or was she overthinking things?  It was only a minute.

She looked out over the restaurant once more, there would be no missing Riddle’s expensive suit and sharp features, even in this crowd.  She had known the man since law school, he had been a year ahead of her, and there may have been a time she thought he was attractive. Still, his cutthroat, unethical, borderline illegal tactics had cured her of any fascination with the highly intelligent man.

As she was looking, something else caught her eyes.  His bright red hair was like a beacon. But he was dressed up, a suit that she had never seen before, his hair fixed nice.  She wondered for a moment if her husband has set something up to surprise her. She smiled to herself and headed towards the door to the private room before stopping dead in her tracks.

A very familiar woman walked in just behind Ron.  Hermione was stunned motionless as she watched her ex-roommate wrap her arm around her husband.  She hadn’t thought of Romilda Vane since collage.

The other woman looks beautiful in her burgundy slip dress, with her mass of curls shiny and bouncy around her face.  She even seemed to be wearing the mandatory sky-high heels.

For the first time that evening, Hermione looked down at herself and felt suddenly frumpy and barely holding herself together.  Her mane was pulled back from her face in as tight of a bun as she could form, but one could see frizz more than curls.

“Hermione?” the voice broke through the buzzing in her ears, and she got the sense it wasn’t the first time he had called her name.

There he was, Tom Riddle, in his perfect dumb suit, with his perfect dumb hair and his dumb perfect face.  She would not cry in front of him.

“Have you been waiting long?” He asked as she just blinked at him as she tried to remember anything passed what she had just seen Ron doing.  She looked back out the window and scanned the restaurant to see if she could find where they had been seated.

“Hermione?” he asked again, and she realized she still hadn’t answered him.  She couldn’t find Ron, and besides, the pollution being dumped into the Hancock river was more important than whatever was going on in her personal life. “Something wrong?”

“When did you start caring?” She asked, glad to have her voice come out as cold as she had wanted.

Tom smiled at her with his dumb perfect teeth and tilted his head. “You seem distracted this evening, did you want to reschedule? I’m leaving town tomorrow, but I am sure I can find a place on my calendar next month sometime.”

“No.  Mr. Riddle, I’m fine.” She said as she made her way over to the table. “I won’t need much of your time.” She said as she pulled the large envelope from her bag. “This is the final settlement we are willing to-”

“Please sit.” He said as he motioned to the chair next to his. “We need a drink at least before we start any of that.  And I’ve told you to call me Tom.” He said with his stupid charming smirk.

Men were ridiculous.

“I don’t think that is appropriate.  We are not friends, Mr. Riddle, and I doubt we will ever be friends.” She said as she took the seat he offered. She sipped the water the waitress has gotten for her and set the envelope down between them.

“So, you want me to call you, Mrs. Weasley?” He said with a sneer.

“You know perfectly well; I kept my maiden name.  Mrs. Granger will be fine.” She said as she tried not to show any reaction to her husband’s name. “I would like to get this over with so I can enjoy the rest of my weekend.” She told him as her thoughts turned to what she would do when she did see Ron again.  She would not be enjoying this weekend at all.

“Well, frankly, Hermione, I’ve brought you here under false pretenses.” He said then stopped as the waitress entered once more.

“We would like a bottle of the 1873 Montese ventage, two glasses.” He ordered before sending the woman away. She hadn’t seen him even look at the menu. “It will go well with our dinner.” He promised pleasantly.

“I’m not staying for dinner.” She told him and shook her head. “I have no idea what you think this meeting is, but I am here to work.”

He gave a dramatic sigh and sat back in his chair. “ Mrs. Granger, aren’t you tired of loosing?  Do you really wish to be poor for the rest of your life?”

“We don’t always lose Mr. Riddle.  If you would just look at these documents, you would see-”

“The town is dropping the charges.” He interrupted her, then turned to smile at the waitress as she brought the bottle and opened it there beside their table.

Hermione narrows her eyes at him and taps her foot as he takes his time, inspecting the cork and tasting the wine before he approves for the woman to pour a glass for the two of them.  The moment the door closed behind her, Hermione slammed her hand on the table. She needed this win; she needed something tonight.

“How could you possibl-”

“My office sent them the proposal this afternoon.”

“How have I not seen it?” She asked between clenched teeth.

“I have no idea; the contact in your office was Mr. Creevey.  It is not my responsibility to make sure you are included in such decisions.”

“So, you’ve brought me here to rub it in and completely waste my time?” She snapped as she moved to get back to her feet.

His hand shot out, and he held her wrist so she couldn’t get too far.

“No.  Sit back down.  I have something I wish to talk to you about.  As I was saying, aren’t you tired of losing?” He asked as he tried to use his hold on her arm to direct her back to her chair. “Think of the good you could do with resources like mine behind you, Hermione?”

“Is this…” She paused as she looked down at Tom. “…a job offer?” She asked incredulously.

“Sit.” He motioned to the chair with his free hand. “Have a drink, and a nice meal, maybe try and enjoy the evening with an intellectual equal?”

She sat down slowly as she continued to frown at him.  Her choices were clear. She could stay and see what he had to offer, or she could go home and spend the evening alone thinking about what Ron was up to with another woman.

“What do you want, Mr. Riddle.”

“Besides, for you to call me Tom?” He asked as he let go of her arm. “I wish to spend the evening wooing you…” He smirked as he allowed his eyes to move from hers and assess her clothing in a very similar way that the hostess had; only Tom seemed to be pleased with what he found. “…to my firm.”

“I like where I am.” She told him as she reached forward and picked up the glass of wine.  If she was staying, she might as well enjoy the perks of eating with a millionaire.

“You could do quite well with us.  You have the kind of mind that would be appreciated by us, and the job we want you for wouldn’t be that dissimilar from what you are doing now. The main difference being that you would have an actual positive effect on the world, and be making exponentially more than you are now doing it.”

“I would only have to sell my soul and help your corporate overlords rape the planet of all its resources.” She said as she shook her head. “No, thank you, but I am flattered.”

“If your office gave you the respect and power you deserve, you would have won your last three cases.  Why be loyal to a system that has its heel on your neck?” He asked with a slight hiss.

The conversation circled like that until the waiter arrived with their dinner.  It seemed that Riddle had ordered before he arrived. Hermione wasn’t sure how many glasses of wine she had indulged in because Riddle kept topping off her instead of letting her glass get close to empty.

“You know getting me drunk is not going to get me to sign anything.  And if I did, I would fight it one I sobered up.” She pointed out as she could feel her head getting a bit flighty.

“I know.  I won’t even bring out the contract with the ridiculously large signing bonus until morning when you’ve sobered up. I just seemed tense when I came in; the wine is to help you relax, enjoy the night.” He assured her.

“God, I wonder if they’re still here.” She said, suddenly getting up and going to the window to once again look to see if she could see her cheating asshole husband and his slut date.

“Who?” Riddle asked as he too got to his feet to see what she was looking at.

“Ron was here.” She told him without really meaning too; she got very talkative when she was drunk. “He brought a date.” She shook her head. She would have to go down into the restaurant to find them.

“Your husband?” He asked a little too innocently.

“Tom Riddle, what did you do?” She turned on him suddenly, but before she could get her finger in his face, he had her pushed against the window with his lips firmly on hers.

She had always liked it when men were aggressive, and she purred into the kiss for a moment as he drunk brain forgot everything but the feel of his lips, and his hands on her hips.  When she remembered that she was mad, she pushed him back and covered her mouth with her hand.

“What was that?!”

“I’m a bit drunk.” He admitted and pointed towards the bottom of the window. “But when you catch on to my schemes so fast, it makes me want to throw you against the closest solid surface.”

She followed where he was pointing and looked directly down from where the window was.  There they were, Ron and his tramp. They were sitting on the same side of a booth as they tried to swallow each other’s faces.

“Wanna go make a scene?” Tom asked as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Or do you want to get even?” He asked as his hands rested on her waist.

“How did you even make that happen?” She asked as he couldn’t pull her eyes away from her husband.  He had never been a great kisser, but watching as an observer was a bit surreal.

“I did not make your husband cheat.” He started as his fingers tugged lightly at the blouse she had tucked into her pants. “But I may have found out about it and decided you should know.”

“A normal person would have just told me.” She said as she could feel Tom’s lips ghosting over the side of her neck.

“Would you have believed me?” He asked before nipping at her skin.

She pulled suddenly from his arms and gave herself some distance between both her husband and Tom.

“What is going on, Tom?” She asked, and he gave her a bright smile.

“Let’s get some champagne and dessert,” He said as he headed back to the table.

Now that he had retreated from her, she looked back at the table with her husband and his date.

“Do you want to sleep with me, Tom Riddle?” She asked, completely floored by the idea.

“No, Hermione.  I do not wish to sleep with you.” He said as he filled their glasses once more and pressed a small button that would call the waitress. “I want to fuck you.” He continued in a dry tone.

“What?  When? Why?”

“I want to ravage your body until you lose your voice by screaming my name.  Tonight at least to start, we can assess how pleasurable it is can continue after that if we are both agreeable.  Because your smarter than any other woman I’ve ever met.” He said, and she just stared at him for a moment before realizing he was simply answering her questions.

“I’m smarter than any other person you’ve ever met.” She countered as she made her way over to the table and sat down.

“True.  Then there is the fact that you didn’t sleep with me back in law school.” He growled as if the thought angered him.

She picked up her glass and took a sip while frowning at him. “I totally would have slept with you during law school.” She countered and shook her head as the waitress entered.

“Chocolate berry bag and some champagne.” He told the woman before directing his attention completely back on Hermione.  The intensity of his gaze was kind of a turn on, and even though she could logically tell she was making some horrible choices, she couldn’t summon the motivation to care.

“By the time I realized you were worth my time, you were already dating the buffoon.” He said and motioned towards where they both knew Ron sat.

“So tonight’s meeting was about me seeing Ron, and then being so distraught that I would sleep with you?” She asked as she slipped out of her shoes and set her feet in Tom’s lap. “How did you make that happen anyway?  This is not Ron’s kind of place.”

“Something like that, though I do want you, Hermione.  Professionally as well as sexually. Come work for me; I think you’ll find that you like being powerful.”

“I’m not sexy.” She said before taking a long drink.


“You’re sexy.” She admitted because he had to know he just oozed sex appeal as if it was carbon dioxide. “Did yous ee the girl? Romilda with her shiny hair and her slinky dress and her high heels. That’s what sexy is; I’m a mess. I’m tidy, except for the hair, but I’m not sexy.”

“You don’t need any of that to be sexy.  Women like her need the accessories to make them into something more.  You need none of that. I want to fuck you. Me. How could you have any doubts about your sex appeal?”

“How can we even breath in the same room as your ego?” She asked, then laughed. “I should go out there and break that shit up.  I should not be up here having this conversation with you.” She said as she pulled her feet free and got unsteadily to her feet.

“I have all the evidence you would ever need to decimate him in a divorce.  Stay here, fuck me, and spring it on him when he least expects it.”

Hermione looked at the table so she wouldn’t have to look at his smarmy face.  She frowned and leaned closer to reach out and check if she was seeing double. She picked up the wine bottles one at a time.

“When did these get here?” She asked, not looking at him as she pointed to each of the four empty wine bottles in turn.

“Not all at once,” He answered with a laugh. “They brought more as we finished them.” He told her as she continued to share at the bottles.

“Isn’t this wine like a million pounds a bottle?” She asked as she finally looked back at him.

“Only a thousand.”

“ Only a thousand .” She repeated in a mocking tone.

“Hermione, I am disgustingly rich, remember?” He asked with a smirk. “I enjoy the finer things in life.  Which is why I want to enjoy you.” He added, bringing the conversation once more back to sex. “Do you not…” Be paused as if he couldn’t even fathom what he was about to ask. “…want me?”

She couldn’t help but giggle at how that was so very unbelievable to him. “You are soo full of yourself. How can you stand to be around us mere mortals?” She asked before giggling again.

“Let’s be honest, pet.” he waved away her question. “If you’ve never wanted me, I will drop it right now.  If I don’t turn you on, you’ll never hear another word from me about it again.”

The waitress came in with their champagne and chocolate whatever he had ordered, but he held up his hand before she could put it down.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather have this up in my room?” He asked, giving her a knowing smirk.

“Is it a fabulous room?” She asked playfully. “Is it a thousand pounds a bottle room?”


“How can I say no?” She asked, but it wasn’t a question.  Then she frowned as she looked to the door out into the restaurant.  They would have to pass Ron.

“Send this up to my room, and make sure they add extra berries and whipped cream.”

“Of course, Mr. Riddle.” The waitress said, and Hermione frowned at him.

“You let her call you Riddle without a problem.”

“She is an employee, a minion at best.” He waved away her concern as he offered a hand to help her stand.

“You want me to work for you.” She pointed out as she ignored the hand and got up on her own.

“You won’t be working directly under me, though I will enjoy it when you are under me.” He said with a smirk.  He thought he was so witty and cool, but she could tell it only made her smile because she was a bit tipsy.

“That was awful.” She informed him so he would know his game wasn’t so well delivered. “And this is a bad idea.” She added as she looked at the door. “Or did you forget you set my husband up like a landmine right in front of the entrance?

“We are not peasants, Hermione.” He rolled his eyes as he wrapped his long fingers around her wrist and led her towards the door the waitstaff had been using all night. “Unlike your ex, I have discretion.”

He took her out through the kitchen and towards a service elevator.  The moment they were alone inside, he pressed her once more against the wall.  This time he didn’t kiss her; he only looked down at her, using his tall form to made her feel small.

“What are you looking at, Mr. Riddle?” She asked, feeling petulant even though his stance was making her heart race.

“Call me, your Lord.” He said with a wicked grin.

“What?” She laughed as his arms caged her against the wall. “What happened to calling you, Tom?”

“You don’t like it, so I am giving you a better option.” He said, leaning down just before the elevator signaled they had arrived on his floor.  He pulled back to lead her once more to his suite.

“Well, I am not calling you that.” She said as she followed.  She noticed there were only four doors on this floor, meaning each of the rooms has to be sizable.

“I think you would like it.” He told her, opening one of the doors with a wave of his phone. “But we can start easier, just call me Sir.” He offered as he stepped out of the way so she could enter first.

She stepped into a fancy living room with a large window that covered the opposite wall and displayed a massive porch with a private swimming pool.

“Why are you even in a hotel? I thought DE’s offices were based in London?” She asked as he moved up behind her. She could feel the heat of him as he pressed his chest against her back.

“We are.” He agreed as his hands moved slowly up her back. “But I travel so much; I pretty much live out of hotels and my office.” He told her as he pulled her suit jacket off and tossed it onto a nearby chair.

She turned to face him and gave him the sternest expression she could muster in her condition. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Agreed,” He smirked before he leaned down and kissed her breath away.  His hand moved to the base of her neck and held her against him with a demanding grasp that only made her heart quicken.

“I mean…” She started as she pulled her mouth away from his.

“I know what you mean.” He interrupted before retaking her lips, this time giving her no space to pull away from him.  He thoroughly ravaged her mouth before allowing her even to breathe.

She found herself light-headed as they parted, and she couldn’t think as she looked up into his eyes with all their sinful promise.  Before she could find another word to say there was a knock at the door, he pulled away fully from her then and tuned to get the door.

A buzzing in her ears kept her from really listening to what was doing on. She found that she was still staring dumbly at the view of his room by the time he had returned.

“Desert?” He asked, his fingers brushing against her neck to get her attention.

“Desert.” She agreed, she needed a distraction from what she was feeling.  She knew for a fact that even being in this room with a man that stood for everything she despised was a bad idea, but she also didn’t want to leave.

“You’ve set everything up so very nicely.” She said finally, as she made her way over to the table where the food had been placed.

The desert had the shape of a brown paper bag with its edges rolled down, but it was made of chocolate and filled with what looked like whip cream and berries.  Next to the plate was two classes and another two bottles of champagne on ice, additional fruit and another bowl of whipped cream.

“I can’t take credit; the staff here knows their business.” He said as he moved up behind her. His fingers trailed up her spine as if he couldn’t stop touching her if he was within reach.

“I didn’t mean the table.” She said and reached for the open bottle so she could pour herself a glass. “All for a booty call? Just because you were denied one in law school?” She laughed and shook her head, moving away from him and walking over to the window with her glass.

“Would you have preferred that I let the halfwit to continue to make a full out of you?” He asked seriously.

“You couldn’t have just told me?” She asked as she turned and leaned back against the window.  The cold surface felt good against the heat in her skin. “Like a normal person.”

“That would not…” He started, but she shook her head and interrupted him.

“What’s the real plan?” She asked while making it very clear she did not want him in her personal space. “You did not set all this up for a chance to fuck me.”

The look he gave her reminded her of a bird.  He cocked his head; his eyes were predatory and curious. “You don’t think you’re worth it?” He asked before pouring a drink for himself.

“You’ve never shown any interest before.” She pointed out as he was taking a sip, and he nearly sprayed the floor with champagne.  She frowned at the unexpected reaction and stood once more. “You haven’t. I would have noticed.” She told him defensively.

“Hermione.” He said and set his glass down as he made his way over to her slowly. “Do I seem like someone who lets a little thing like a relationship, or even marriage get in the way of what I want?” He asked as he took his time crossing the short space.

“So?” She countered eloquently, as she tried to figure out what she should be doing with her hands.

“I’ve been pursuing you nearly constantly for the last five years.” He told her as he stood much too close. He took the glass from her hand and set it down on a nearby ascent table. “You never found it odd that I’ve personally attended to each and every one of your cases against one of my clients?”

“I thought it was because you’re the devil.” She said and crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s because I’ve wanted to be close to you because I enjoy getting you riled up.  You shine most brightly when you have a real challenge.”

“That is not what normal people would call pursuing someone.” She said, not willing to give him an inch.

He carefully reached out and took each of her wrists in his grasp.  She frowned as he carefully untangled her arms and then pinned her wrists on either side of her head.

“If you were any other woman, you would have been in my bed years ago, but if you were any other woman, you wouldn’t be worth keeping there.”

“You just can’t admit that there is something else? Let’s say you’ve actually been doing your psycho version of flirting with me for the past five years.  Why up your game now? What set all this up now?” She asked, looking him directly in the eyes.

They just stared at each other for long moments.  Tom was keeping Hermione’s wrists pinned, as she did nothing to fight the hold.

“Several things.” He started slowly. “First is that I only found out about his cheating a few weeks ago.  I was…” He paused and looked away from her. “…displeased by the idea of him not appreciating what he has.  Not appreciating the thing I desire.”

“I’m not a thing.” She cut in, and he looked back at her.

“Of course.  But when I learned about the girl, I knew I didn’t just need to take you from him, but I plan to take everything from him.”

“You wanted me mad enough to, what were your words, decimate him in court?”


“So, you wanted me to see how he was in person, not just pictures that I am sure you have.”

“Correct again.”

“Where does fucking me come into it?” She asked as she could tell he was still keeping things back.

“Can’t I just want you?” He hissed.

“Fucking me tonight messes with that plan.  You risk me feeling guilty enough to stay with Ron.” She pointed out the flaw.

“I had to make my desire clear, or you wouldn’t be willing the take the evidence I have on him.  You would think I would require something in return.”

“You’re not?” She asked, still looking for holes to poke.

“Only that you admit we could be good together.” He sighed. “Maybe give the job offer a real consideration.”

“Why would you want me working at your firm?”

“I would rather we not be enemies, Hermione.  You want to do good; I’ve made a place where you can actually make a difference.  If nothing else shows you that I want and understand you, take a good look at that job offer. I’m the one that convinced our clients that they need someone like you.”

“You specially carved out a position at your firm that I would be perfect to fill?” She laughed and shook her head.

“One that will make you happy.”

Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head back against the window.  This was maybe the strangest night of her life.

“You still haven’t said you don’t want me too.” He reminded her of the offer from earlier. You only need to say the word and mean it, and my advances will stop.”

“I don’t know.” She sighed and closed her eyes.  It might be the alcohol, but she had to admit she felt comfortable with his touch.  He leaned in and ran his nose along the column of her neck before kissing the spot just behind her ear.

“You want me, Hermione, just admit it.” He breathed, and she couldn’t stop the shiver.

“Maybe I do.” She breathed and bit her bottom lip as he kissed her neck once more. “But if I give in tonight…” She licked her lips as his lips moved leisurely along her jaw. “… I’ll never want to see you again.”

He froze in his action and gradually pulled back from her to look down into her eyes. “What?”

“I’m going to leave the choice up to you; dirty, hot, adultery sex or a chance for something more once I’m less vulnerable.”

He narrowed his eyes on her, still not giving her space or letting go of her wrists. “You want me to give up finally tasting you tonight for a chance you’ll be willing to go out with me after the divorce?”

“Exactly.” She agreed and smirked at the calculating expression he was giving her.

“But how can I be sure I want to keep you until I taste you?” He asked, obviously trying to find a loophole as he did so often in their professional life.

“Tom.  You have to choose,” She said without mercy.

He tightened his grip on her wrists for a moment where his grasp became painfully hard.  She whimpered, but still didn’t fight his hold.

“Fuck you, Hermione.” he hissed, and she smirked.

“Is that your choice?”

“You will read over the job offer and give it real consideration. I’ll know if you don’t.” He said as he let her go and moved away from her.

She blinked at him, stunned with the decision he was obviously making.  Was it possibly true that he had wanted her since school?

“And you will divorce that neanderthal!” He snapped a moment later. “He gets no more chances.  It is my turn. Do you have a lawyer? I can recommend one. I’ll send you some contacts in the morning along with my file on your husband.”

She couldn’t help but smile as he seemed to think it was okay for him to make plans for her; it was like he couldn’t help himself.

“Monday.  Send it all to my office on Monday.” She said, finally pushing herself from the window.  She walked over to him as he shifted the forgotten desert around the table, obviously hew as trying to use up the energy that had charged between them.

She moved onto her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be seeing you.” She said before she picked up her jacket and briefcase before making her way to the door.  She gave him one last look before heading home. She had a feeling Ron would be out the rest of the night, and that suited her just fine.

Open Wounds

He wondered if she could hear his heart thumping in his chest.  There was a buzzing sound in his ear, and he couldn’t bring himself to look up form the stone floor.  If he kept his head down, she wouldn’t notice him from the rest of the students standing in the great hall to greet her.

Headmaster Snape had required that the entire student body come to the great hall, but he had not told them why.  Juniper and the other DA members hadn’t wanted to stand out by not showing up to a school-wide assembly, but now he was thinking better of it.

Would she even recognize him, did she know what her diary had done to him, how it had manipulated him?  It was hard to understand how any of the magic of memories worked.  Had the diary been a separate being, or did Voldemort know all the dark secrets of his youth?

“Breath,” Neville whispered beside him.

He forced himself to take in a slow breath and focused on that while Snape gave a speech about what an honor it was to have the Dark Lady visit their school, and that he expected each and every student to show her the respect she deserved.

Then it was her turn to speak, and her voice was different from the young Thomasina Riddle, but the cadence still struck him with the want and fear he had been trying to rid himself of since he was a child.  He was so wrapped up in the feel of her words that their meaning would not penetrate his brain.

It could have been hours or only moments before he realized the other students were moving around him. Neville shook his arm to get his attention.

“We can go, you don’t look, good mate,” he said with a frown. “Maybe you should skip classes today.”

He nodded, feeling as if he might still throw up.  He started to fallow his friends out of the room before Snape’s voice called out over the slow-moving crowd.

“Juniper Weasley, come here.” He ordered, sounding more bored than malicious.

Juniper glanced back in the man’s direction and felt his jaw tighten.  The headmaster was still speaking to Thomasina.  He closed his eyes and shook the name away.  She was Voldemort.  He needed to think of her as the monster she was now, and not the one she had been when she made the diary.

“Now, Weasley.” Snape hissed as he noticed Juniper’s delay.

She was looking at him now as well.  Her face was so different from the beauty she had been back when she attended school.  Her dark hair was woven like a crown upon her head, her skin was deathly pale, and her beautiful face was more serpent than human.  With all of that, she still stood with the balletic grace he remembered.

He knew he had delayed too long when he noticed Snape heading his way.  If he made any more of a scene, it would only mean his punishment would be that much worse.  He forced himself forward; the other students parted for him as they too had heard the irritation in the headmaster’s voice.

He gave himself as much space as he thought would be tolerated from the two adults and kept his eyes on Snape or the ground.

“You wanted me headmaster?” he asked, trying to muster as much respect as he could under the circumstances.

“The Dark Lady has decided to grant you the honor of showing her around the school.  Do not do anything foolish that would embarrass the school or me.” He said, the threat clear in his tone.

“Oh, Severus, I am sure Mr. Weasley will be more than well behaved.” She said as she dismissed the man with a wave of her hand.

Juniper stopped breathing the moment they were alone.  The buzzing was returning to his ears, and he thought he might pass out from panic.  But what would she do with him if he passed out?  He forced himself to breathe and turn to her, though he didn’t dare look he rin the eyes.

“Lady?” he asked awkwardly, unsure how to address someone who had an unspeakable name. “What did you want to see?”

In his work to keep from looking at her face, he realized that she was slightly shorter than him now, it was an odd reversal from the last time he had spoken to the diary.  He had been a scrawny eleven-year-old, but he was one of the tallest in his class now.

“I am told that the Weasley clan has discovered many secrets of the castle, I must wonder if you’ve found as many as I had back in my day?” She asked, and he wondered if he was speaking of the chamber.

She would know he had been the one to open it, even if he did not have the memories of what the diary had done to him, he was sure Snape would have told her of his part in her possessions destruction.

“I know a few of the secret tunnels, nothing particularly exciting.  With how clever you are, I am sure you found much more than I have.  He said, fidgeting slightly, as he could feel her eyes upon him like a tangible thing.

Long delicate fingers brushed along his chin and tilted his eyes up to force him to look at her.  Her eyes had slits like a snake’s, but the shape and color were exactly how he remembered them.  He couldn’t stop himself from shaking as her slow smile filled him with shame, desire, fear, and pride.

She was smiling at him, she was touching him, and it both elated and disgusted him.

“Juniper, you know where I wish to go.  Take me to the chamber.  I wish to see the damage for myself.”

He tried to look away from her eyes, but he felt trapped by her gaze. “You know the way; you don’t need me.” He pointed out as he continued to force himself to take every breath.

Her fingers trailed softly along his jaw and down the column of his neck.  He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw as he wasn’t sure how to react to her attention.

“I’m told you had months of personal contact with my poor departed diary.” She said as her fingers landed on his Gryffindor tie.

“I did, Ma’am.” He said, knowing it would be useless to lie.

She laughed and shook her head. “I’m your Dark Lady, ‘ma’am’ makes me sound maternal.  I am anything but.” She said before patting his cheek. “Lead the way.” She ordered a moment later.

He noticed she hadn’t acknowledged his remark about her not needing an escort, but it seemed she had other reasons to keep him with her.  She took his arm as if they were a couple out for an enjoyable stroll.

He had no choice but to lead her to the girl’s bathroom.  They walked in silence, but he couldn’t enjoy the reprieve because his brain kept focusing on every inch of contact between them.  When he got to the door, he stopped, hoping that she would continue without him.

“This is the entrance I showed you?” She asked with a smile. “Well, that makes a sort of sense, it would be hard to explain a Gryffindor going into the Slytherin dungeon.  Can you still open it?” She asked, motioning for him to continue into the bathroom.

“I’ve told you before; boys aren’t allowed in here!” Myrtle yelled the moment she peeked out from her stall.  But the moment she saw Thomasina, she disappeared down the pipes.

“She’s told you before,” Voldemort said with a dark chuckle. “Have you been here since the diary was destroyed.

He licked his lips and shook his head.  If he didn’t speak, would she be able to tell he was lying?

“When was the last time you were here, Juniper?” She asked, and his name rolled off her tongue in the exact same timber as it used to.  He shivered and looked away from her.  There was no good reason to lie to her that he could think of.

“I sleepwalk sometimes and find myself here.” He said, taking what he hoped was a casual step away from her.

“Still?” She asked, and he could hear the pleasure in her voice.

He frowned and looked up at her once more. “Having you possess me when I was a child was quite traumatic.”

A smile formed on her pale lips as she moved towards the sink with the carved snake. “Can you still get down to the chamber?” She asked, not revealing why the information has pleased her.

He remembered wanting to please her back when she was a phantom from a book. Now a part of him wanted to please her still.

“I haven’t tried.” He admitted.

“Do you remember the word?” She asked with her back to him.

He shook his head. “I only ever remember parts form when you…” He took in a breath. “…from when the diary took control.”

“If you open the way, I’ll let you return to class.” She said as she turned to look at him and motioned him towards the sink.

It was a test to see how much of their time together he did remember.  He frowned as her and stepped forward.  He knelt to check to make sure he had the sink with the snake carving.  Juniper closed his eyes and tried to think of when he had opened this door.  He could feel her standing behind him, waiting to see if he still had the power.

The sounds came to his mind slowly, and he let them slither past his tongue in the way they felt most natural.  It was deja vu, and he shook slightly at the sound of shifting stone.

“Very good, my boy.” She said, her fingers running through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp in a way that made him feel dirty and excited.

He shot to his feet and took a step back from the pipe.

“You can go first.” She said, motioning to the entrance, and he frowned at her and shook his head.

“You said I could go back to class.” He accused as his hands balled themselves into fists.

“I didn’t say right now.” He countered and pointed back towards the pipe. “Be a good boy and continue to do as your told.”

“Are you going to kill me?” He asked because the chamber was the last place in the world he wanted to go.

“No, my sweet, I’m not going to kill you.” She said as she shook her head. “Today, anyway.”

“Then what do you want with me?” He asked, still trying to delay the moment where he had to go down into the darkest heart of the castle.

“You’re a creature of my making, and I want to see the extent of the scars.  As far as I can tell, they’ve never healed.  I must wonder why you’re heroes and protectors allowed the wounds to fester as they have?” She moved closer to him as she spoke and brushed the back of her chuckles against his cheek.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lied and tried to pull himself away from her touch.

“No one has ever cared for you, have they, my little seventh son?” She laughed and grasped his shoulder. “Go, before I have to force you.” She ordered, her tone turning cold.

He turned to the wide-open pipe and forced himself towards it.  He took in a slow breath before jumping into the darkness and trying not to think about how cold off of this made him feel.  He landed in a heap at the bottom of the pipe and moved away quickly so she wouldn’t fall on him.

She descended the pipe at a leisurely, refined pace, using her magic so she wouldn’t have to slide as he had.  She smiled down at him, still on the ground and motioned for him to stand without a word.  Once he was standing, she rested her hand on the back of his neck and pushed him forward towards the chamber.

It seemed she somehow knew he would take more coaxing the closer they got to the room she had almost killed him in so many years before.

When the got to the large round door, she spoke the word of opening, and the way it sounded coming from her lips made his whole body start to shake.

“I don’t want to go.” He admitted as he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other.

“I know my sweet, but you need to face this if we are to move forward.” She said in an almost soothing tone.

“We?” He asked, closing his eyes as they entered the large chamber.  He allowed her to guide him from there; he couldn’t make himself look.

“It’s time to closed those wounds; they’ve served their purpose.” She whimpered while her hand stroked the back of his neck.

“My poor pets look at what Potter’s done to you.” She said as she let her hand drop.  She sounded a bit mournful as she moved towards the gigantic snake skeleton.

“Pet.” He corrected as he opened his eyes and held his breath while looking around the room.

“What did I say?” She asked with mock innocence.

“You said pets, but there is only one basilisk.” He said as he motioned towards it.

“There is only one basilisk.” She agreed as she leaned down over its form to get a closer look.

The snake was dead, and so was the book.  Juniper repeated those words to himself as he stood where she had left him.  She took a long time examining the body, and it left him to look around the chamber.  He thought maybe he had hit the point where his nerves were passed their limits because all he felt was numb.

Before he realized she had moved, she was in front of him, touching him once more.  He jumped at the contact and looked down at her.  She gave him a knowing smile as he shook his head.

“Did you say something?” He asked as he realized he must have zoned out.

“You’re doing so well, my sweet; I want to reward you.” She told him as she reached up and started to undo his tie.

“I don’t. Want. anything.” He shuddered as she left the tie handing off his neck, and her fingers moved to unbutton his shirt.

“No?” He asked as she trapped him once more in her gaze. “I can see the desire plainly, Juniper.  How long have you wanted me?” She asked as he leaned up and softly brushed her lips against his.

He took in a shuddered breath and closed his eyes.  How long had he wanted to touch and kiss her?  His long had he disgusted himself with his need to be close to her once more?

“Forever.” He whimpered because he couldn’t remember a time before his need for her.

“And does my appearance now, change your desire for me?  Some would call me monstrous.” She said as he pushed both his shirt and robe from his shoulders.  They got tangled in his arms, keeping him from being able to push her away, even if he had the strength of will to do so.

He closed his eyes and shook his head.  He couldn’t give in to this; he knew it was wrong to want her.

“Please.” He whimpered tried to back up away from him. He tripped on his robe and fell back, landing hard on one of his wrists.  When he cried out in pain, she only laughed at him, kneeling gracefully between his feet.

“Don’t hurt yourself, my sweet, that’s my job.” She told him as she drew her wand and used a careless slicing hex to cut his undershirt in two.  He hissed as she bit his chest as well.

She smiled down at him and ran her finger over the shallow cut. “Now, answer my question.” She ordered licking his blood front her finger before leaning over him to look down into his eyes. “Does this face make you want me less?”

“No.” He closed his eyes tightly.  He knew there was something wrong with him.  Her attention was only making his need grow, and his body betrayed him, hardening as she continued to torture him sweetly. “I still want you.” He gasped as she leaned down and licked the wound she had made. “But, please stop.” He added a moment later, proud he had forced the words passed his lips.

“No, my pet, this is too much fun.” She told him as her hands moved to his pants. “It would be a waste not to take full advantage of you.”

“I think I’ve sprained my wrist.” He said, shaking as she continued to push him far past his limits.  He needed an escape, but he also drank up her attention as if it were air.

“But you can endure for me?” She asked before kissing his lips sweetly while cunning fingers opened his pants and stroked his half hardened member.

He took in a studdered breath as his body throbbed with the pain and pleasure of her regard.

“Please?” He begged even as his hips moved against her hand.

“Have you ever had a woman Juniper?” She asked as he continued to tease him through his boxers. “Have any of these little girls spread themselves open for you?” She pressed before her lips trailed over his jaw and down his neck.

He felt another spell settle over him and opened his eyes just in time to see her set her wand down beside them. “Tell me, my sweet.  Do I have to punish you for your infidelity?”

“We’re not…” He couldn’t think of the right word, but she just shook her head.

“You’ve belonged to me for a long time.” She said and shifted, so she was straddling his thighs. “But have you been true?  Or did you taint what was mine with some little girl’s touch?” She asked as she locked eyes with his.

“I’ve had girlfriends,” He said as his jaw tightened. “We’ve kissed, but I’ve never…” he shook his head.

“You knew this belonged to me?” She asked as he pulled his cock from his boxers.  It was painfully hard and weeping precum, and he felt sick just looking at it.

“I can’t get you out of my head.” He gasped as she shifted on top of him again.  She lifted her robes and adjusted herself so he could feel the bare skin of her knee against his side.

“I know, my sweet.” She soothed again; her fingers moved to pet down his chest gently.  She picked up her wand and healed the scratch she had made on him and then leaned over, so their faces were very close. “You’re being such a good boy.” She purred, and he jerked as he felt her body tease against his shaft.

“I hate you.” He growled and closed his eyes; he willed himself to believe his own words.  He did hate her, but he loved her in equal measure. “You’re diary was going to kill me.”

“Are you sad she failed?” She asked in a soft knowing tone.  She lowered herself onto him, wrapping him in wet silk folds that felt so much better than anything he had ever done to himself. “Sorry that you couldn’t give your life for her?”

He let out a wounded sound as he struggled with how much this moment pleased and horrified him.

“Yes.” He gasped and shook his head.  He had never admitted his sorrow for her loss to anyone before.  No one could understand how much he wanted and needed her.

“Shhh.” She spoke softly. “I’m here now, my sweet, nothing is lost, we can both live.” She murmured as she controlled their every movement.  She kept him helpless and in pain as she rode him with increasingly vicious movement of her hips.

“Good boy.” She gaped, grinning down at him as her body started to jerk and quiver around his wonderfully painful erection. “Who do you belong to?” She demanded, her fingers digging into his shoulders as their join bodies ground his wrist into dirty stone.

“You!” He cried and felt the flood of his lease like nothing he had ever know before.  He wondered in a hazy sort of way how he hadn’t succumbed to it before that moment, but thought maybe she had somehow controlled that as well.

She was panting as she looked down into his eyes, and he looked back into hers.  He felt lost and broken in a way he thought had healed years before.

“Good boy.” She praised as she pet his cheek, and he found himself pushing into her touch.  He knew at that moment that if hse continued to give him her attention, there might come a day he would do more than die for her.


Hermione looked out upon the faces of the crowd, either covered or ink with the cold.  Snow started to fall as she wrapped up yet another campaign speech.  She would be happy to get into the warmth of the car, but at that moment, she couldn’t help but be warmed by the energy of those who would elect her.

When she heard the first soft pop, she didn’t think anything of it.  The sound had no malicious edge to it.  She pushed to the ground before she even had an idea something terrible was happening.

“Miss Granger, you’re coming with me.” The man above her said in a confident, steady tone.  He sounded calm enough that she still couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on.

“Tom?” She asked her head of security as he pulled her to her feet.  It was only then that she got a glance at the body on the stage.  Her veins when cold as it didn’t seem as if the woman was moving. “Tom?” She asked again this time, trying to push against him as he led her from the chaos. “Tom! Ginny’s hurt!” She said, but he wouldn’t loosen his grasp.

He let out a grunt, and his hold on her arm loosened, but his other hand tightened to bruising force.

“It is my job to keep you safe, Miss Granger.” He said as he was all but dragging her off the stage.

“What happened?!” She was looking around for anyone else from her staff. They all seemed to be back at the stage or had taken cover out of her sight.

“The gunman is in one of those buildings there.” He said, but he wasn’t talking to her. “Call me as soon as you find anything .” He ordered and continued to pull her away from the crowd.

“Miss Granger, I need you to listen to me.  I will throw you in the trunk to keep you safe if I have to.” He said, pulling her attention to his angry face.  He had been so calm what seemed like a moment before. Time felt as if it were skipping around her.

“What happened?” She asked again as he pulled a door open to a car she didn’t know.

“Get in; I need to take you to a safe house.” He ordered instead of answering her.  She knew that when it came to her safety, he had made it clear he was the one in charge.

She slipped into the car, but couldn’t keep herself from shaking.  She put her hands over her mouth as he tried to make the last few minutes make any sort of sense in her head.  Red caught her eye, and she looked down to see blood on her hand.  Itw as sticky and wet, and she quickly checked herself for injury.

“Who’s?” She asked because she didn’t think she had been hit.

“Mine.” He told her darkly without looking at her.  He put the car into gear and sped off. “Get down,” He snapped as he reached out and grabbed her neck to shover her face into his lap.

She rested her head on his thigh and took in slow breaths as she tried to remember what the books had said about dealing with shock.

“Where are we going?” She asked as she tried to find other things than the sight of Ginny’s body lying in the snow.

“We are going to a safe house.” He said, his voice had returned to calm. “Just breath, and close your eyes, Miss Granger.” His hand rested on the back of her head as if he was trying to soothe her.  Tom had never been a calming presence for her, but she couldn’t help but think it was kind of him to try.

His phone rang, and he lifted his hand to answer it.

“Nothing?” He asked, and she wished that she could hear the other side of the conversation. “Look to see if they left anything, and get me a status report on the otter; I want to know exactly where it is.” He hung up then, and his fingers settled on the back of her neck.

“Can I sit up now?” She asked.

“You’re a recognizable woman; we don’t want them having any idea where you are.”

“Right.” She agreed because it was logical; logic was a useful safety net when she was stressed.  He gently squeezed the back of her neck.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Miss Granger.”

“I think you can call me Hermione after this.” She said as she continued to focus on her breathing.

“We’re almost there, Hermione. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He promised, and she couldn’t help but smile.  They had had their disagreements in the past, but that was always because Tom was trying to do the best job he could.  He was just as much of a perfectionist in his work as she was in hers.  He would keep her safe because that was what he did.

The windows suddenly went dark, and Hermione jerked. “I’ve pulled into a garage, wait till the door is closed, and then you can sit up.” He said, patting her shoulder.

“You were hit.” She said, suddenly remembering the blood, where was her mind?  She knew logically that trama and shock affected the brain, but all of that was a whole new experience for her.

“My arm.” He agreed as he started to open the door; she figured it was safe for her to sit up. “I could use your help in cleaning it, but it seems to be nothing more than a flesh wound.”

“Oh.” She said as she got out of the car and looked around the mostly empty garage.

“That door leads into the house. We’re going to be here a few hours, at least, so I don’t want you going outside.” He said as he made his way around the car towards the door he had pointed to.

The door led to a small kitchen, and he was taking off his coat the moment they got inside.  He hissed as fabric brushed his arm, and Hermione quickly moved to him so they could both get a better look at the injury.

“You’re hurt because of me?” She asked with a shake of her head.  She couldn’t believe anyone would want to hurt her.  She was the front runner in the upcoming election, but were her ideas so radical that it would invoke people to violence?

“You could have moved faster off that cruised stage.” He said and hissed against as he took in the bright red blood on his white shirt.

She glanced around and found the kitchen scissors so he wouldn’t have to remove the whole shirt and possibly hurt himself further.

“I didn’t know what was going on and…” Her mind moved back to her friend’s body. “Is it possible, Ginny’s okay?”

“They were aiming for you. It’s likely that anyone else hit wasn’t fatal.” He said as he allowed her to cut the sleeve of his shirt away. “The first aid kit should be over the icebox.”

“She didn’t look like she was moving,” Hermione said in almost a whisper as she turned to find the kit.  It was best to keep herself distracted. “Can you ask someone?  My phone was…” She paused and shook her head. “I don’t have anything here.” She pointed out as she found rubbing alcohol and a clean cloth.

“Of course.” He said though she thought he would say anything to keep her calm just then. “Looks like the bleeding is already slowing.” He said as he brought her attention back to his wound. “Someone got lucky today.” He said in a cold tone that didn’t match his words.

“So just clean and bandage?” She asked as she wet the cloth with the alcohol.

“May need a few stitches when I can make it to a doctor.” He said but turned so she could clean the arm. “We’ll see, clean and bandage for now.  Then you should get cleaned up yourself. You’ll feel better getting my blood off.” He promised and made no sound as she dabbed at the wound.  His face hardened, but it seemed his pride wouldn’t allow him to show any weakness.

Once she had the arm well bandaged, she took a step back from him.

“There’s a room just down the hall with an attached bathroom where you can take a shower,” He said as he got to his feet to show her the way.

The room was nothing special, but she smiled at him in thanks.

“There should be a few changes of clothes in the dresser.” He motioned to the furniture. “Can’t promise exact sizing match, but it will be better than those,” Tom said as he motioned to the specs of blood on her sleeve.

“Thank you.” She agreed with a soft smile. “You’re very good at this.”

“I know.” He smirked back at her and closed the door to give her some privacy.

After she was done with her shower, she was in the middle of pulling on the overlarge t-shirt and leggings when she heard angry voices coming from down the hall.

“Tom?” She called as she tried to open the door only to find it stuck.  She pulled harder, and the door shook in her grasp, but would not budge. “Tom!” She yelled as the voices became loud enough to hear what they were saying.

“See how you like it!” Tom growled, and there was the popping sound, only this time it was not muffled by snow and distance.

She froze for a moment and screamed in worry for her bodyguard. “TOM!!” She needed to make sure he was alright.  She looked around for another way out of the room, even as she continued to yank at the door.  She realized then the room had no windows.    The door was the only way in or out, was that a safety precaution?  But as she struggled for freedom, it felt more like a prison.

A clicking sound sent new alarms off in her head, but her adrenalin was riding so high at that moment she couldn’t see the picture that her subconscious had already formed.

She stepped back from the door and looked for a weapon, but it was Tom framed and the doorway, and she smiled at him in relief that she didn’t feel.

“It’s alright, Hermione. You’re safe.”

“What happened?” She asked as she tried to force herself to breathe.  She wanted to see for herself, but he was blocking her way. “What aren’t you telling me,” She asked because nothing felt right.

“I lost my temper.” He said as he kept his voice soothing. “But everything is fine now.  Would you like something to read?”

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked again because she knew there was something off about the whole situation.  Where was the rest of his team? Shouldn’t the staff had caught up with them?

“I know you’re a bit trusting and nieve Hermione, but you’ve had to have figured it out by now.” He said as he gave her a pitying smile.

“Someone tried to kill me today.” She said, frowning at him as she shook her head, none of it made sense.

“Wrong.” He smiled at her. “I would never allow that to happen.  Try again.” He said and leaned against the doorjamb as if they were playing some kind of game.

“Someone shot at me today.”

“If Nott had been shooting at you, you would be dead. Though today’s events have brought up questions on his aim .” He yelled the last two words and looked down the hall behind him as if they had not been for her ears.

“The shooter’s here?” She asked wide-eyed as she stepped back from Tom.

“Now there is a brilliant girl.” He said as he turned back to her.

“I’ve been kidnapped.” She said as everything started to make sense once more, but she was not enjoying that new reality. “Why?  What do you want?” She asked as she looked around.  She knew who he was, didn’t kidnappers usually hide their identity.

A slow, insidious smile spread across his face, and it felt like he had removed a mask to show the monster beneath the bull-headed, but charming guise.


So Purple it’s Black

It was the Malfoy patriarch that blindfolded her and tied her wrist before taking her from the Malfoy dungeon.  But she had no idea who he passed her too before she was forced into a side along apparition.  Then more rough hands pulled her along before she was forced into a second, third, and fourth apparition.

By the time they seemed to be done with her, she couldn’t stand, and the person let her drop to the floor before retching all over what felt like a soft carpet.

“Precious.” A man said though the girl had a feeling he wasn’t sincere.

“I apologize for messing what feels like a lovely rug, or maybe carpet?” She said as she drew her bound hands up to wipe her mouth. “But I lost track of the apparitions after four.  It isn’t good for my stomach.”

“Did they tell you why you’re here, girl?” The man asked, and she shook her head.

“I don’t think they much like giving information to prisoners.” She said as she faced the directions he thought the voice was coming from. “Why am I here?”

She felt fingers on her chin as the man turned her face from side to side. “I’m told you personally know Harry Potter.” She could feel the heat coming from the man as he crouched to the side of her, probably so he didn’t have to step in her sick.

“Harry is a friend of mine.  Though I haven’t seen him in a bit, you know he’s on the run from Voldemort.” She said because it always got a reaction out of her captors to use that name.  He squeezed her chin with bruising force and let out a hiss.  She just smiled at him.

When he ripped off her blindfold, she found herself starring into red eyes.  She took in a slow breath as she took in the man’s snakelike features and almost invisible lips.  He was exactly as Harry had described him.

“You’re Voldemort.” She told the man as she internalized the fact she was so close to the evilest wizard of all time.

“And you are just as stupidly braze as the rest of his Gryffindor friends,” He said, pushing her back with enough force that she hit the ground.

“Get her cleaned up and brought to my workroom.” he hissed to another man standing at the door. “I like to start with a clean canvas.”

The man at the door picked her up by her arm and yanked her to her feet.

“A clean canvas, Nott.” He repeated to the man. “No bruises.” He snapped as she was pulled towards the door.

“I’m a Ravenclaw.” She called back as she was taken from the room.

She was soon led to a bathroom where she got to clean herself for the first time in more than a week.  She washed her hair and body, luxuriating in the warm water of the shower.  Once clean, her guard provided her with a simple undyed robe as he took her dirty clothes away.

The house they were in was big, but it was no manor or castle.  She was led barefooted down into the basement where she found that half the space was converted into a potions lab, while the other half looked like something out of a medieval torture room.

The Dark Lord was already there; his attention seemed to be entirely on several potions he was brewing.  She couldn’t help but gaze in wonder as he moved around the space like performing a dance.  She knew Voldemort was powerful and evil, but she only understood how brilliant he was as she watched him work.

“You can leave her there.” He said without looking up from his work.

It seemed her guard didn’t have to be told twice.  He released his hold on her arm and headed back up the stairs without a word.  Luna stepped forward; she felt pulled towards his work.  It was fascinating to watch him in an element not made of darkness or hate.

“You’re a Ravenclaw.” He said as he continued to move around between the six cauldrons.

“Correct, but most of my friends seem to be Gryffindors no matter what the sorting hat claims.” She said as she put her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch anything. “Are you going to torture me?”

“Unless you tell me what I wish to know without it.” He said as he looked up at her for the first time. “You don’t seem afraid.”

“Fear isn’t a useful emotion.” She explained logically. “Most of the time, it makes you do things that aren’t in your own best interests.”

“Maybe you should have been a Gryffindor.”

“I’m told you have to feel fear in order to be brave.” She pointed out as she made herself look at the area of the space designed as a torture chamber. “Why not have me restrained? Don’t you think I’ll try and run?”

“You haven’t yet.” He pointed out.

“Only because I don’t think I would get far enough for it to help.” She had no idea what most of the tools would be used for, but she was sure if they were in his dungeon, they were made to cause pain.  He made a sound of agreement, and she looked back to the Dark Lord.

“What do you think I know?  Because I think it is pretty clear, I don’t know where Harry is.”

“I wish to know his weaknesses,” He said, which made her frown.  He seemed to be winding down whatever he was working on, which mean he would turn his attention entirely on her.

“You don’t already?  You seemed to have used them quite efficiently a few years.” She reminded him as if he had forgotten.

He tapped his wand against each of the cauldrons to stop their progress. Then Voldemort turned to look directly at her for the first time. “You will tell me what he is doing.” He said as if it was a simple truth.

“I have no idea.” She answered just as readily.

“We will see.” He said as he made his way towards her.  He kept his eyes locked with hers and smiled down at her as she did not look away.

His hand brushed her cheek as if he was admiring her. “Now, are you going to continue  to be good, or do I have to force you onto the table?”

“Would there be some kind of benefit for me to comply easily?” She asked curiously.

“I might take it easy on you.” His smile grew as he continued to look down at her.  It had at least a foot and a half on her. She wondered if he was trying to intimidate her.

“I doubt that.” She said and finally pulled her eyes away from his to look at the table he spoke of.  In the center of the torture area was a wooden table with metal cuffs attached to each corner.

“Quite smart,” He said, and without a word, she was thrown across the room.  The air left her lungs as she landed hard against the wood.  She was face down, and before she could move, the cuffs wrapped around her wrists and ankles.

She took in a slow breath and turned her head, so her cheek rested against the smooth wood.  She did not fear a sprinter from the almost shining surface.

“We don’t have to do this at all.” He told her as she could hear him move towards the table.

“We don’t, because I’m telling the truth.” She said and frowned.  Anticipating all the things he would do to her for his hopeless task made her a bit worried if she would come out of the room alive.

She could feel his hand on the back of her neck for a moment, and then it pulled away, taking her hair with it. “Don’t want this in my way.” He said as he twisted then pinned it up with a spell. “Your skin is rather beautiful, a soft cream, without a blemish to be seen.”

“I don’t freckle easily.” She said as he trailed a single point down her spin. “Is this what you did to Mr. Ollivander?”

“No.” He admitted before moving away from her once more. “But old men make disappointing canvases.  Young skin is much more satisfying.”

Luna blinked. “This isn’t for information that I don’t have.” She said as she tried to look in his direction.

“You will tell me everything you know.” He asked, returning to her.  She could see what looked like a giant stick in his hand.  When he caught her looking at him, he smiled and traced her spine once more with the stick. “This is a Dragon Cane.” He said before swinging it above her back so he could hear it sing. “Swung with enough force, and it will tear through the skin as if it were paper.”

“You want to hurt me.” She and closed her eyes.  She didn’t need to see any longer.  She knew there was nothing she could say to stop what would come.

“I do enjoy the pain of others.” He admitted before swinging the cane again.

“You want me to be afraid. Your minions have chosen you a poor victim.” She said as she focused on her breath.

“We will see.  Everyone starts bravely.” He explained, and she heard the song of the cane a third time, but this time the swing ended with a sharp crack across the back of her thighs.

Her eyes widened as her skin filled with fire.  She was sure Voldemort hadn’t been exaggerating, she wondered if she was already bleeding for him.

“Nothing to say, Miss Lovegood?” He asked, sounding as if he had all the patients in the world.

“What could I say?” She asked as she turned her head to face the table.

He swung again, the second stripe just north of the first.  Would he line Luna’s body, so there was no safe play to lay once he was done?  Her breath already came in staggering waves.  She doubted she would live through his game.

“The little dive has no song for me?” He asked before laying another welt across the width of her ass.

“Song?” She asked, not understanding what he wanted from her. “Isn’t your cane singing enough?”

“Give me something, and I will let you rest. You’re doings o well.” He praised his free hand, petting down the length of her untouched back.

“I have nothing for you, Mr. Voldemort.”

“LORD!” He hissed and sung his weapon once more.  This time it landed across her shoulderblade. “If you’re going to use my name, you will use it properly.” He explained.

She nodded as she took in a staggered breath. “I have nothing for you, Lord Voldemort.” She said because she didn’t see a point in disagreeing.

“Nothing?” He asked as his finger ran long his latest mark.  The pain bloomed fresh without ever going away first.  He swung the weapon three more times, each time she jerked as he brought new pain.  She wondered if any part of her would be free of it before he was done.

“Nothing.  I have nothing you want.” She gasped and shook her head. “I know nothing.” She added, wondering if she continued to talk that he would stop.

“I’ve broken harden Aurors; I will break you.” He promised, and she nodded in agreement.  He laughed and struck her across the upper arm. “Than why fight me, little dove.”

She looked at her skin, sure she would see the bone, as she watched lightly pink skin turned red that darkened to such a deep purple it looked black.

“I may have lied.  This cane has been enchanted,” He explained as he kneeled in her eye line.  He looked into her eyes as he spoke. “It will tear the robe from your sweet little form, but it will never break the skin.  I wouldn’t want you to get infected.” He smiled as he brushed at hair that had settled on her cheek.

“Is this satisfying?” Luna asked as she looked back at him, again she felt if she could only keep him talking, he wouldn’t hurt her as often.


“Punishing me for your amusement?  Is this giving you what you wanted?” She asked as she tried to focus on her breathing and not the mess of her skin.

“Soon you will tell me what I want to know.” He promised and stood once more.

“I don’t know anything, would you prefer I lie?” She asked just before he started a barrage of strikes across her back.

The cycle continued like that until there was no place on her backside that he had not struck at least once.  Every few hits, he would ask her questions that she would never be able to answer.

She lost track of time as her mind hazed with the pain; her thoughts became sharp, but also cloudy.  She knew it was her adrenalin trying to combat this unknown danger.  She allowed herself to coast on the feeling as it sort of dulled what was happening to her in the physical world.

She did not know how long they had been playing his game when he knelt to look into her face, and her vision was blurred.  He wiped his fingers over her eyes, clearing the tears from her sight.

“A little dove that cries, but does not sing.” He said, and she could tell he was talking to himself. “You’re a rare sort of bird, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know anything.” She told him softly as she felt barely awake.  She felt like she had been running, instead of lying still while he beat her.

“I know.” He agreed as he gently stroked her cheek.

“Are you going to kill me now?” She asked, almost feeling revived by the idea.

“And waist such a beautiful canvas?” He smirked and shook his head. “I would just as soon burn an ancient tome.”

She took in a slow, staggered breath and shook her head.

“Don’t worry, in time, you’ll going to enjoy this as much as I do.”

Tome Hates Tacos

“Shouldn’t you be trying the food?” Hermione gasped as Tom pressed her up against the bathroom wall.  She lifted her leg as he wrapped it around his side and pushed her skirt further up her leg.

“Shouldn’t you be inspecting the kitchens?” He breathed against her neck and pressed his hardening manhood against her core.

“I needed to check the loos; you didn’t have to fallow me.” She moaned as her fingers moved to his belt.  They didn’t have much time, and she wanted to finish what he started.

“Then why did you look at me?” He asked as his lips nipped at the spot on her neck that sent shivers all the way down to her sex.

“Why are you always reviewing the same places I’m scheduled to inspect?” She panted as he roughly pushed aside her knickers so he could fill his with his now free cock.

“I think you have that wrong.” Tom groaned as he seated himself fully inside of her he savored the moment and shifted so he could look her in the eyes. “You’re the one who always inspects the places I’m scheduled to review.” He countered, but before she could respond, he started to fuck her into the wall.

She bit her knuckles hard to keep herself from moaning and held onto his shoulder to stay balanced on the one leg.

She loved the way Tom assaulted her with pleasure, and yes, maybe she had shifted a few surprised inspections around so that she would be in a restaurant at the same time as him.  But she knew Tom popped in on restaurants’ spontaneously’ just as often when he knew she had an inspection planned.

The arrangement they had was exciting and gave spice to an otherwise very logic heavy job.  And best of all, there were no strings, nothing but enjoying each other’s bodies in the most primal way possible.

She nearly drew blood as she came hard around him, and he continued to take her even as her body jerked, and she hit her head against the wall.  She knew she would be leaving an impression in her hand, but she regretted nothing.

She couldn’t stop the small keening noise she made as he continued to batter her searching for his release.  It was good, but also so much more than she could handle.  When he finally peaked her pressed her harder against the wall and ripped her hand from her mouth so he could devour her lips with his own.

They stood both panting for a long moment as they worked to regain control of themselves.

“You realize someone is going to figure out our game sooner or later?” He asked as he fixed her skirt and tossed a condom she hadn’t even seen him put on.

“Probably.” She agreed and wet her lips as she worked to find balance.

“Have any idea what you’ll want to do then?” He turned before asking so he could make sure his suit was in order.

“Not a clue.” He smirked at her reflection and gave her one nod before heading out to finish his meal.

“Hey, didn’t you just inspect Lujuria’s Taqueria the other day?” Her roommate Harry asked as he skimmed the paper over a breakfast of cold cereal.  For a two-star chef, he did precious little cooking at home.

“Thursday.” She agreed, not looking up from her book as she sipped her morning tea.

“Riddle was there the same day.  That has to be a record.” Harry said, shaking his head. “He did not seem pleased.”

“Really?  I thought the food was pretty good.” She said as she looked up from her book and took the paper right out of her hands.

She looked over his review of the restaurant, which was full of phrases such as ‘peasant food’ and ‘chaotic plating.’

“Oh my god.” She stared at the scathing review and slowly looked up at her best friend.


“I’m fucking a monster.  Tom hates tacos.” She looked up at her friend, not seeming to notice the carefully hidden arrangement she had just revealed in light of the catastrophic realization that her fuck buddy was hardly human.

“Wait. What?!” Harry looked at her with wide eyes, and the color drained from his face.