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Hermione knew that it was selfish of her to take so long preparing for the masquerade that evening, but she just couldn't help herself. She wanted everything to be absolutely perfect tonight, because she knew how very special it would be later on.
She couldn't help but remember the taste of Tom's lips, the feel of his hands caressing her—and she wanted more. Her wayward body thrummed with desire, making it that much more difficult to apply her make-up and put together what she wanted in her little handbag.
She was glad that Tom didn't return to his room while she prepared. She wanted to surprise him. She was also quite lucky, since she did not leave her own room until nearly seven. She hurried through the corridors to the ballroom, and stepped into the winter wonderland she had created with a satisfied smile.
Everything was perfect.
Tom was not there, not that she had expected him to be. Though how she knew that for certain was a bit of a mystery, since everyone around her was in disguise. It didn't take long for Draco to appear by her side, dressed up as Salazar Slytherin himself. Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes as he approached.
"Are you coming to ask for a shag again, Draco?" she asked when he reached her side.
"Of course not," he told her. "But it would be remiss of me not to at least let you know that you look lovely this evening."
"Why are you being so nice?" she asked suspiciously.
"Can't a bloke be nice without an ulterior motive?" he asked. "But I did notice, though, that you seem to have come here alone. No date tonight?"
"He's supposed to get here later," Hermione explained. "If you'll excuse me, I would like to sample some of the buffet."
"Of course," said Draco, bowing gracefully as she walked away.
"That was weird," Hermione muttered. She got herself some food and settled down to eat it at the Gryffindor table. While she chewed absently, one of the fourth year boys came to sit down beside her.
"All alone on a night like this, Granger?" he inquired. "I would have thought you'd have men fighting over being your date."
"Thank you, Hobbs, but no, that is not the case," she said with a smile. "Only one, and he is running abominably late, I must say."
"There were some of us who wondered if you were going to show up on Malfoy's arm," Hobbs said with a chuckle.
"I wouldn't give him the satisfaction," Hermione commented.
"Since you appear to be finished eating, I wondered if you would care to dance?"
Hermione chuckled. "A princess dancing with a hobgoblin? That ought to be a sight."
The hobgoblin in question held his arm out so she could take it, and helped her to her feet. The pair of them stepped out among the dancers and joined them in their odd gyrations. She laughed merrily when the song sped up and the lead singer told everyone they should now act like they were hippogriffs.
"This is crazy!" she told Hobbs as they both flapped their arms around like they were wings. They couldn't stop laughing. Suddenly, the room grew silent, and Hermione turned to the band to see what had caused them to stop playing.
A handsome young man dressed all in black, and wearing a black mask to hide his face, was speaking to the lead singer, who nodded in agreement. The band struck up a waltz, and the man, who was a mystery to everyone else but Hermione, ambled slowly toward her.
Hobbs stood frozen in place as he watched. Even without knowing who he was, the younger Gryffindor instinctively realized the enigmatic figure was headed toward them, and he leaned nervously over to ask in her ear, "Is that your date?"
"Yes, it is," she said with a smile, never taking her eyes off of Tom as he finally arrived and took her hand in his.
"You are the most beautiful thing in this room, princess," he said huskily as he raised her hand to his lips.
"Thank you, good sir," she answered with a curtsey.
"I thank you for entertaining my lady during my absence, young man, but I'm sure you won't mind if I cut in," Tom said to Hobbs, who was more than willing to simply slink away without a word.
"May I have this dance, my beauty?" he asked Hermione then, and she saw the sparkle in his eyes.
"Indeed you may," she answered, and noticed that her own voice had become just as husky as his. He swept her into his arms and whirled her around the dance floor, which had become surprisingly bare of other dancers. Hermione glanced up and realized everyone had cleared the area for them, and stood watching from the sidelines.
"Didn't I tell you how stunning you are?" Tom teased her, and then the music suddenly turned again. They were playing The Tango.
Hermione turned to look up at Tom accusingly, and said, "Your idea, I suppose?"
"But of course," he said. Suddenly he held a rose stem in his teeth, and the deep red bud brushed her cheek softly as he pulled her up against him to the music. Hermione's heart beat faster as she moved with him, and the murmur of the watching crowd grew and eventually became cheers as the couple grew more bold.
Tom dipped her low, and then with an ardent kiss as he brought her up again he transferred the rose to her. Hermione gave a cheeky grin and took the lead, eventually dipping him and giving the rose back with an even more ardent kiss. Tom made a big show of fanning himself before continuing to dance. The whole room giggled, and then the dance ended and they all mutually returned to the floor.
"Drink!" Tom said as he wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders. The rose was in his hand, and she took it from him so she could hold it, and when she smelled it the perfume did funny things to her insides. "Here, love, save that for later," Tom suggested as he snapped his fingers and it disappeared.
"Hey, I wanted that," Hermione told him.
"Don't worry, it's in your room," he reassured her as they reached the punchbowl. "You don't think anyone spiked the pumpkin juice, do you?"
Hermione cast him a surprised look, and he grinned as he poured her a glass. She didn't sip hers until Tom sipped his first, which caused him to chuckle.
"It's safe, Hermione," he said, tipping her cup to her lips. Some of it spilled onto her chin, and he kissed the droplets away.
"Tom!" she gasped, blushing.
"Well, we didn't want it to get on your dress, did we?" he asked innocently. Then in her ear, he added, "I don't want to take it off of you till later."
Hermione's skin tingled wherever he touched, one hand on the small of her back and the other brushing her hair aside so she could hear the statement more clearly, and the biggest tingle of all surrounding the ear itself where his hot breath hit it. She had to suppress a moan, the sensation was so nice. Tom's eyes burned into hers with wicked delight. He was well aware what he was doing to her.
"Let's dance, my pretty pink princess," he teased her, drawing her out onto the floor with him. He didn't recognize the more modern music, but quickly picked up on the dance style by watching everyone gyrating around him. "This is crazy," he laughed. "What do they call this?"
"Rock and roll," she told him.
"Sounds kind of like a stampeding elephant butting heads with a grizzly," Tom teased. Hermione chuckled, and took his hands to draw him near.
"I need to go powder my nose," she said in his ear, and he squeezed both of her hands. "I won't be long."
"I'll be waiting," he answered with a smile that turned her knees to jelly.
When Hermione stepped back out of the stall she'd gone into, she was accosted by three very nosy girls.
"Where did you find him, Mione?" asked a girl she knew named Rose, and her two companions giggled. "You know, nobody was sure you'd even bring a date at all, you're such a recluse. But to show up with that sexy piece of man—and him with eyes only for you. You're the luckiest girl I know."
"Well, I—" Hermione tried to say.
"Does he have a brother?" asked one of her friends.
"No, he doesn't, he—"
"You two looked really serious," said the other friend.
"Well, yes, we're—"
"I'm so happy for you!" Rose shouted, giving Hermione a big hug. The other two wrapped their arms around the pair and all of them squealed with glee, including Hermione. After all, she'd never gotten to squeal with glee before, so why not? Tom was well worth a girlish squeal any day of the week.
"Okay, he's waiting for me," she announced then. "I've really got to go."
"Good luck, Mione," Rose said, patting her on the back. "That one's a real keeper."
Hermione almost laughed when she heard that, thinking of who they were talking about. Tom Riddle was not a man for just any average girl. She knew full well he could be moody, forceful, and violent, and that she had just not witnessed this younger version doing so yet. But still, her heart wanted what it wanted, didn't it?
She found Tom sitting with Draco Malfoy, of all people, and did not announce her presence right away.
"So, what happened to Parkinson, Malfoy?" he was saying.
"Well, I brought her the bloody flowers just like you told me, but she ended up being allergic to them," Malfoy complained. "Imagine that, being named Pansy and being totally allergic to flowers. Her face swelled up and everything. It was really gruesome."
"It would be, with that pug nose of hers," Hermione said sweetly as she started to massage Tom's shoulders. He leaned back into her and smiled. "So, I take it you've met the Head Boy?"
"Yes, I have," said Tom, pulling her arms around him so he could reach her lips. Hermione held herself back long enough for him to realize she wanted an explanation. After getting his kiss, which actually turned out to be several, he said, "After I frightened him away from your compact, I decided to mess with him some more, only he figured out the whole thing. So when I learned of his upcoming date with the Parkinson wench, I told him to get her flowers."
"Bad idea, that," Draco added grumpily. "Now I'm stuck at a dance without a date."
"Bad luck for you," Tom told him with a clap on the shoulder as he got up. "I'm about to take mine on a nice little walk."
"Are you?" Hermione inquired with a smile. She didn't need any more answer than the way his hand casually slid down and cupped her arse as he guided her straight towards one of the exits. As soon as they were out of sight of prying eyes, he stopped abruptly and guided them into a nice, cozy alcove.
Tom's lips crushed Hermione's with a fierce insistence that fired her blood to a fever pitch. She wanted him with a desperate madness, and she was more than willing to let him know about it. His fingers slid inside the neckline of her gown to find the hardened nipple underneath, and Hermione groaned into his mouth, her breaths coming in short gasps—when he even let her take them.
"Tell me, Mione," he whispered against her throat as he began to kiss a path down toward his fingers. "Tell me what you want."
"I want you," she breathed.
"What part, sweetheart?" he asked as his tongue flayed at her exposed nipple.
"You know," she whispered, not quite able to say it.
"I want you to tell me," he said, sucking the nipple into his mouth.
"Tom!" she sobbed. "Tom, please take me back to my room. I want you inside of me."
"Your wish is my command, Your Highness," he said as he backed up and gave her a bow. They could barely keep their hands to themselves all the way there.
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