A/N: Thank you for the reviews everyone! Reviews really help motivate me. You guys are the best!
Chapter Five: Half God, Half Devil
I waged war in a fiery blaze
I found peace in a purple haze
My angels and my demons
They don't know their place
Ready or not, they're gonna come out and play
I can be your heavenly or I can be your hell
I can say a prayer for you or I can cast a spell
I push you to the darkness just to pull you to the light
Cause I can take away your breath or I can bring you back to life
Half God, half Devil
Hermione waited for Black to show up in the library all day, as Harry said he would eventually show.
Well, he never did.
So, here she was, pulling her hair up into a ponytail on a Monday morning, trying not to act nervous about the fact that she once again, had double potions with the Slytherins. She knew she'd be partnered with Riddle, as Slughorn had yet to allow them to pick other partners.
Perhaps she could just ignore him? They'd be surrounded by students, it wasn't like he could do anything there.
She checked her stomach and side the moment she had woken up, only to frown in disappointment when she saw that the black lines were still there. They didn't hurt and she noticed nothing different about herself, yet they remained. If they did absolutely nothing, then what was their purpose? Why were they even there? Or worse...was it permanent? She tried to push it to the back of her mind. There was no point in stressing this much over it. It wouldn't do her any good, as she had a priority to figure out what the hell Riddle...was.
Nodding her head, she walked out of the bathroom to see Beatrice waiting for her. She eyed Hermione's high pony tail with a smirk.
"What?" Hermione asked, touching the pony tail.
"Oh, its not like that," Beatrice smiled, waving her hand. "its just with your curls, that pony tail looks totally cute."
Hermione shifted, touching the pony tail again. Did she really? In all honesty, she'd never really thought about herself looking cute...ever. She was too plain and simple to be...anything really. She supposed she wasn't ugly, but she was no beauty and she knew that.
"Er—thanks..." she trailed off uncomfortably, giving the girl a smile as they walked to breakfast together, meeting Jennifer in the common room along the way.
Hermione forced herself not to look over at the Slytherin table as she walked in the great hall, smiling with the two girls. She was so determined not to look, that she almost missed Jennifer saying her name.
"Bea agrees with me, ya know." Jennifer said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at Hermione.
"Sorry—on what?" Hermione asked with a confused expression.
"That Tom Riddle totally likes you!" Jennifer exclaimed, making Hermione's face pale out and then turn bright red.
"She's blushing—complete crush." Beatrice nodded, smiling playfully. "come on, Hermione! You shouldn't be embarrassed, you should be proud. You've done what no other girl-"
"I haven't done anything, though!" Hermione protested, tucking a stray hair behind her ear uncomfortably.
"But you have!" Jennifer agreed with Beatrice, being persistent. "you just don't know. He's never looked at a girl the way he looks at you. Its a huge deal. you've got his attention."
"It may not be good attention." she commented dryly, picking up some juice bitterly. It definitely wasn't good attention. But, Hermione knew that even if she did tell the two girls the truth about Tom Riddle, she'd doubt they'd ever believe her. They thought he was the personification of perfect. He seriously had so many people duped. She ate her breakfast in mostly silence, her face twitching irritably whenever either would bring up the "perfect" Tom Riddle to her. They told her he kept looking at her, but she didn't need them to tell her that. She could feel his dark, intense gaze practically stabbing the side of her face. Probably planning my demise...she thought bitterly. But in truth, she didn't really think that was the case. For Merlin's sake, she'd passed out in front of him, tied down and helpless. If he was going to kill her, he could have easily done it then. Clearly, he didn't want her dead...yet anyways.
The girls got up to go to class and she begrudgingly got up and followed, gnawing on her lip all the way to the dungeons.
Entering the potions classroom, she clutched her potion book to her chest until her hands turned pale white. She could see his stupid perfect hair on the back of his stupid head in the front. He was always in the classroom by the time she arrived, no matter how early she left. It was like he teleported there.
Her legs were shaking lightly as she stared at ground, refusing to accidentally make eye contact with him as she walked up to the desk. Feeling his stare, she quickly sat down, unpacking and folding her hands on top of the desk. Hurry, hurry...Merlin, hurry up! She yelled in her head to Slughorn.
"Did you receive my note?"
Her shoulders tensed and she closed her eyes, hearing his smooth, elegant voice. So she was right, it was from him. "Yes." she answered simply, looking around the room and trying to signal with her body language that the conversation was over. She was praying to Merlin he would shut up and start ignoring her like he had before. She couldn't deal with him right this second, she needed more time to research—to think. Just because yesterday's search landed her with a big nothing, didn't mean that she'd never find anything. She just needed more time.
"You have surprised me," he continued lowly as her face paled out. Of course, like he'd ever care she didn't want to talk to him. He regarded no one's feelings as he continued, "I thought for sure you'd come to me, asking questions."
Should she even answer? Maybe if she was quiet and boring, he'd shut up and get bored of her.
"It doesn't seem like your personality to just..." he paused. "let it go."
"How would you know what my personality is like?" she snapped in spite of herself, looking over at him to see him leaning back in his chair, twirling a quill in his hand as he regarded her curiously with a bemused expression."do not presume to tell me what I'm like—you don't know me and I don't know you, so lets keep it that way." He raised an amused brow, his handsome face giving her the smallest of smirks...as though she was the most amusing thing he'd seen in a long time.
"Hmm—that's where you're wrong," he said simply, quirking up his eyebrow. "I know more about your personality than you think." he finished, leaning up and moving his chair closer to the desk. He looked away from her, opening his potions book and looking down at it, but she could tell he wasn't reading it.
"…Whatever." she scoffed, trying to appear unaffected, but she couldn't help it when a surge of worry traveled through her. What was that supposed to mean? Did he really know something about her? From what had happened? Then again, she didn't know what happened, so she supposed it wasn't impossible that he somehow...read her, was it—no...no, she couldn't start having even more questions before she even had a single answer. She already felt overwhelmed.
"Good morning class!" Slughorn called, coming out of his office, making Hermione sigh in relief. She never thought she'd be happy to see Slughorn.
She bit her lip, listening to Slughorn talk about the potion they'd brew today. They were going to be brewing the Mopsus potion, which was supposed to give the drink seer-like powers. But that wasn't the interesting or the best part. The best part was they were working individually, so she could effectively, completely ignore him.
As they set up their cauldrons, she dug through her ingredients, frowning when she saw she was missing an essential one. She didn't have any flabbergasted leeches. Glancing over to Riddle, she saw he had an entire jar sitting next to his cauldron. Not going to happen...she thought to herself. She wasn't anything him for a damn thing.
Making up her mind, she left the desk, approaching Slughorn at his desk, who looked up with a fond look in his eye. "Excuse me Professor," she said quietly. "it seems I'm missing flabbergasted leeches..." she finished, turning slightly pink.
"Oh, I have plenty in the store in the back!" Slughorn waved off. "you can have one of those jars. Er – Tom!"
She froze as she felt Riddle quickly come up to the desk.
"Can you show Hermione my stores, get her a bottle of flabbergasted leeches?" he asked brightly.
"I'd be glad to, sir." Riddle answered quietly and smoothly, making her stomach drop. She knew where the bloody stores were. For God's sake, it was just in the back of the classroom! Even so, she was capable of reading. She could find it herself! But, Slughorn didn't know her well, perhaps he thought she'd take steal from him? She was snapped out of her thoughts by Riddle moving next to her, walking through the classroom and she hesitantly and reluctantly followed his tall form. She swallowed thickly as she weaved around cabinets behind him, her pulse spiking as she entered the large store room behind him. She stayed near the door, looking like a deer that just got stumbled upon...one wrong move, and she was out of there. He crossed his arms, calmly scanning the shelves, pausing near the back. He leaned back, turning towards her stiff form with raised eyebrows.
"It's right there." he commented, nodding his perfect head towards the middle shelf.
"Do you expect me to get it for you and bring it to you?" he sneered, looking slightly angry.
"No..." she instantly said in high-pitched voice, but she couldn't bring herself to move. As if she expected Lord Voldemort to be courteous. She would have laughed in his face if she was stupid.
"Have you forgotten how to walk?" he snapped sarcastically, irritation entering his dark gaze.
Oh Merlin, he's getting angry...she inhaled, taking a shaky step forward and forced herself to quickly walk towards the shelf. She quickly snatched the flabbergasted leeches. She couldn't believe who unbelievably rude Tom Riddle was – wait – no, what was she thinking? Yes, she could. No sooner than the thought left her mind, a cold, vice-like grip circled around her wrists from behind her, making her drop the leeches with a yelp, the glass shattering loudly throughout the room.
Her eyes widened and her panic mode set in as she instantly starting trying to pull her wrists out of his grip. She flailed her arms, but he was clearly much stronger than her. Is he INSANE?! She thought to herself. Well, of course he was insane, but they were literally in Slughorns classroom—did he want to get caught? What the hell was he thinking? He hissed in irritation, and she felt him pull her backwards, her back slamming into his lean chest. Her eyes widened ever further and she gasped, feeling a coldness seep into her spine. Not only from fear, but from—from him. He was freezing.
"Shhh..." he hissed quietly and she felt the same, calming, pulsing waves entering her body, making her go somewhat lax against him. No, no, no...her mind chanted as he loosened his hold on her wrists.
He let go of one of her wrists and she gulped, her eyes widening dramatically in horror when she felt him tugging her white oxford shirt out of her skirt. She immediately tried to flee more aggressively, panic rearing its head again inside of her. She'd never even...thought of him—that way—she realized. She supposed that subconsciously, she just...assumed he was asexual. But, he was...wasn't he? After all, wasn't sexual desire another disgusting, human thing to him? He didn't...desire women like that, right? After all, if he did, why didn't he go with some of the beauties of Hogwarts? They clearly wanted him and they looked much better than her. If that was his goal, she didn't understand it. Her face paled out at the possibility he was a teenager in that aspect. That made everything SO much worse.
He simply sighed irritably and in the next moment, his hand was cupping her cheek. A powerful pulse throbbed through her body, pulling at her and making her knees weak. She moaned out as it pulled, actually pushing herself against his chest. He hissed in surprise behind her, but he didn't sound displeased by her action—far from it. She could almost feel that he was pleased. It was like this action, whatever it was, connected her to him on some level—she could feel what he felt to an extent.
"S-Stop..." she gasped out, her teeth chattering lightly. She bit her lip, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to stop herself from letting out another embarrassing moan as another powerful pulling pulse racked her body. But she couldn't stop her form from trembling against him. She felt his hand pulling at her shirt again, but she couldn't bring herself to stop him. Her mind willed her body, stop him...stop him...stop him. But she felt practically drugged. She was trembling, her body pulsing from the previous pulls as it waited for him to do it again. She internally flinched when she felt air hit her abdomen. She shivered, feeling his coldness sinking into her body. No, he shouldn't be this cold—he was—it wasn't right...What is he DOING?!
She gasped loudly when she felt his large, cold hand wrap around her hip...where the dark lines were. His cold fingers dug into her skin for moments, then stretched out across her stomach—across where the lines were. She felt his hand twitch, and he inhaled sharply behind her. Was he—was he removing them? She hated herself, but she didn't feel as frightened anymore. She knew she should, and her mind kept telling her stupid body to be afraid, to turn around and try to pop him in the face or something. After all, she seemed to like muggle combat.
"Es portat, le meu estoras..." he chanted smoothly behind her, making her face go tense. "- reste' unad, porte...hareas." he finished off in a quiet breath, surprising her when his always calm voice shook slightly. He let go of her other wrist, wrapping the arm around her shoulders, moving from her stomach to clutch her hip with the other hand as though he was holding her steady. But, why?
She waited in a frightened confusion, but it didn't last long. Her mouth opened and she let out a cry—her head falling back against his chest as something she never expected in a million years wracked her body. She instantly fell into what felt similar to an orgasm, but it was honestly more powerful than that—it was unlike she'd anything she'd ever felt. Though she'd never known a man in that way, it couldn't possibly get much stronger than this. She was gone. She didn't care they were in a storage room in a classroom. She didn't care her professor was nearby. She didn't even care if Harry charged in the room and saw.
She didn't care.
She grabbed his forearm that was holding her shoulders, gripping him fiercely as rolls of pleasure invaded her every sense, pulling something deep inside her and making her feel as though she was on the brink of insanity—but she still didn't care. This was a madness she'd willingly accept. She could feel his intense eyes looking at her face, drinking in her every expression as her breath came out in a wild gasp—she could once again, feel how pleased he was and she writhed in his hold, whimpering lightly and biting her lip.
Vaguely, she heard him take a sharp intake of breath and let out an unsteady groan, making something inside her set on fire. Her mind was blissfully blank, whether or not he had done that on purpose, she didn't know. But, her body was calling the shots now. And her body wanted him, desperately. She didn't care in what way. She wanted him in every way.
She tried to press into him more, but his hand on her hip kept her steady. She wrapped her arm around the back of his neck, shoving her fingers in his silky locks as she looked up at him, her pony tail falling against his upper arm. His handsome face was looking at her in surprise, but his eyes were completely black, whites and all. The veins were missing, and it should have disturbed her. But this time, it didn't. Hell, she'd be surprised if she had any iris left. Surely, her own pupils were blown. Her gaze took on a dazed, hooded look and she licked her lips as she gazed at his. They weren't too thin, but weren't thick either—a perfect shade of pink. Perfect. He was perfect. He was so handsome. His eyes narrowed on her action, taking a deep breath as his eyes briefly closed, clutching her hip with force, undoubtedly leaving bruises. Again, she didn't care.
"We're out of time," he said in a calm, yet strained, deep voice. "let go." for whatever reason, deep down, she felt as though he didn't really want her to. "No..." she whispered, her body feeling desperate. She pulled his hair almost aggressively as she shoved herself on her tip toes, closing the distance. His face darkened and his tense jaw ticked slightly as his dark eyes briefly flashed to her slightly parted mouth. She slowly blinked, swearing she saw...uncertainty flash through his eyes. He turned his lips away from hers in the last moment, making her frown in annoyance.
"Granger," he said sternly in a commanding tone, but she heard how his deep voice slightly shook. "this is not the place for this."
No, shit—like she cared.
She shocked him when she simply ran her tongue up his chiseled neck, planting a small, open-mouthed kiss on his sharp jaw-line. Her body shuddered in surprise pleasure. She didn't expect any kind of taste...but it was there. It wasn't even distinguishable. She couldn't compare it to his smell—he didn't taste like coffee or spearmint. Perhaps...it was similar to the sandalwood musk that seemed to linger on his skin. He tasted...dangerous—but deliciously so, in a way that made her heart flutter and her toes curl in want. Regardless, in that moment, she didn't recognize herself. It wasn't an action she ever saw herself doing, so why did it feel...right? Why did everything about this feel...right?
He completely froze after her action, a statue couldn't have possibly been more rigid than he went in that moment. Just as she stared to feel slightly self-conscious about her action, she heard a low hiss escape his mouth. His hand squeezed her hip again and he let out a low grunt. A wild thrill shot through her body, making the same pleasure curl her toes, but she wasn't sure anymore if that's what she was feeling, or if that was his feelings projected onto her. She made a move to do it again, but was pushed violently away.
"No!" he hissed as she stumbled, catching herself against the shelves in the storeroom, turning to look at him and gripping the shelves behind her to steady herself. He was looking tense, breathing heavily and his black eyes narrowed on her also heavily breathing form. Away from his hypnotizing touch, her mind slowly started to turn back on as she blinked, looking at him with an alarmed expression. Anger, fear and total embarrassment hit her all at once as her face flushed, her hand instantly ripping her wand out of the pocket of her robes. She pointed it at him angrily, not even caring at the moment that she probably wouldn't be able to best him. If she could get one shot in, it would please her. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and opening them again to reveal them looking normal.
"Put that down Granger," he hissed, making no move to draw his own. "don't be stupid—remember where you are. Now, hurry up and fix yourself—Slughorn will get suspicious soon." her face practically magenta as she realized her was referring to her white oxford that he had pulled from her skirt.
"What—what the hell did you do to me, Riddle?!" she screamed, her voice shaking with rage and humiliation. There were so many emotions swirling around inside of her, that she couldn't possibly contain them all, she was only human. Angry red sparks shot out of her wand, her magic crackling furiously around her.
"If you don't control yourself, I'll fix the problem," he said lethally, his eyes narrowing, not the least bit fazed at the powerful witches magic crackling at him aggressively, "you're not causing a scene in front of the professor. Now, are you going to pull yourself together and keep your mouth shut? Or are you going to make me make you shut up?"
"FUCK YOU, RIDDLE! I HATE YOU!"
He rolled his eyes, sighing irritably as his eyes turned black again, the veins reaching into his neck, making her eyes widen in fear at the inhuman display. He didn't move—not a single word was uttered, but her world instantly went black.
Hermione came to with a groan, blinking rapidly as her eyes met the ceiling of the infirmary. She frowned, confused for moments before reality came crashing down on her as her thoughts became so frantic that they weren't even forming coherent sentences in her thoughts. That—that mother—he—what the hell did—I'm going to kick his..."Feeling alright dear?" a young mediwitchs face suddenly popped in her field of vision.
"What happened?" Hermione grumbled, not sure she even wanted to know the answer.
"Oh dear," she tisked, helping Hermione sit up in the hospital bed. "a potion ingredient rack crashed down on you in potions class—you don't remember? You did hit your head pretty hard..." Hermione clenched her fists. Oh, she remembered alright. She remembered a little too well.
Her face turned bright red for multiple reasons.
"Your friends came by to check on you," she said happily as Hermione noticed a large bouquet of white, glowing roses on her bedside table. They were in a beautiful, crystal vase that seemed to glisten in the sunlight as it shone in the windows of the infirmary. Her jaw dropped slightly as she reached for them, fingering a magnificent white petal that seem to have small, tiny diamonds glittering the surface. They were, undoubtedly, the most fabulous flowers she'd ever seen conjured. She knew that not even she could conjure such a perfect creation.
"Oh, aren't they gorgeous?" the mediwitch asked with a dreamy sigh. "poor Mr. Riddle. He carried you all the way here, you know—said it was his fault, that he didn't react soon enough to stop the shelf..." Hermione's eyes darkened considerably, her fingers that almost touched the beauty falling dejectedly, "so, he conjured these for you," she smiled, sitting down on her bed. "remarkable, aren't they? He's such a talented wizard. Whomever he marries, will be a very lucky lady indeed."
"Indeed." Hermione said sourly, her mind racing. Part of her wanted to repress it, if she repressed it, she wouldn't have to think about it. It wasn't normally her mode of operation, but what in the name of Merlin was even normal anymore? She had another overwhelming urge to tell Harry everything, but she couldn't protect him if he was in Slytherin—she frowned, not that she could if he wasn't. For Merlins sake, she couldn't even protect herself at the moment. She was against an unknown assailant with an unknown arsenal, and more than a couple tricks up his sleeve. That and a part of her feared him knowing, she was ashamed, as she should be...though Harry would be understanding—she would think, but Ron wouldn't. Ron would probably turn his 'eat slugs' curse on her before she could even get two words in. Besides, what was she supposed to say? 'Hi Harry, when Voldemort touches me, I have this weird soul-pull type thing—I mean, it feels similar to an orgasm—sooooo...do you know what it is?' she flinched and turned red at her own thoughts. She could do that, or she could go throw herself in the black lake and pray to God the giant squid was hungry.
Both had equal appeal.
Merlin help her, what was even going on? There were so many thoughts—so many questions in her mind that she felt as though she was on the brink of sheer madness. She needed answers, and soon. Though, she had a horrible trepidation that she wouldn't find a damn thing, and the only source of information she was going to get was directly from the source—not the he'd ever tell her anything. And even if he did, it sure as hell wouldn't be a weakness.
"Are you feeling alright dearie?" the mediwitch asked, snapping Hermione out of her thoughts as her toffee eyes met the concerned healer. Hermione gave a watery smile, "No madam. Unfortunately, over-thinking isn't an illness."
The healer gave her a warm smile. "It can be," she said kindly, placing a wrinkled hand on hers. "if you'd ever like to talk, I'm here." Though it slightly had more appeal than telling Harry or Ron, it was still completely unappealing. But that didn't mean she didn't appreciate the offer.
"Thanks," she murmured, standing with a smile. "I feel just fine—can I go back to class?"
"Of course darling!" she said happily. "you're all healed – was just waiting for you to wake."
"Thanks." she repeated, staring to head out of the infirmary.
She stopped in her tracks, her face paling several shades when she saw her holding Riddle's magnificent roses, "don't forget these beautiful flowers! I'm sure the poor boy had to work very hard to conjure them for you."
I highly doubt that….she thought bitterly. The young Dark Lord was beyond gifted. She had half a mind to reject it, to tell her to just throw them away. But, there wouldn't really be any justification for that behavior. Not to mention, the healer seemed to be quite fond of the devil and she had to be careful, lest she get on her bad side. Considering how her luck had been lately, she needed a healer on her side.
"Of course," she said, trying not to sound apprehensive and she reached forward, trying and failing miserably to stop her hand from trembling. The healer smiled at her fondly, making Hermione's heart warm as the small girl stood, holding the crystal vase near her chest.
"Come back if you feel ill." she ordered, making Hermione nod as she turned as headed out of the infirmary, fully intent on throwing the flowers, one by one, off the astronomy tower. It had two purposes: to get rid of them and to make herself release some frustration. Perhaps she'd even rip them apart before she chucked them? She was supposed to be in Divination at the moment, and if that wasn't unappealing enough, Riddle was also in that class. Nothing could have possibly been more unappealing, except maybe telling Harry and Ron about what was going on. That couldn't be beat.
She grimaced, turning the corner and almost dropping the vase in fright. Her toffee eyes met the dark gaze of Tom Riddle, who was leaning against the wall, staring at her casually and looking like some sort of dark, annoying Adonis.
"Why aren't you in class?" she instantly snapped, gritting her teeth and a small dose of fear crept in her veins.
"I see you liked the roses." he commented, ignoring her question completely. She wasn't going to justify that with an answer—she never like anything he bloody did. Well, except maybe...she instantly squashed the voice in her head like a bug.
"What do want from me?" she blurted loudly after his comment. She was already at her wits end. She was alone, confused and frightened. How was she supposed to have any peace when he was around every corner, touching her and sending her into some kind of...mystical orgasm? Merlin, just saying it in her head made her skin crawl.
He raised his eyebrows, looking amused momentarily before he answered. "Do I have to silence the corridor like I did the classroom?" he shook his regal head, his black eyes glittering as he continued, "But you know, I haven't quite decided yet," he said softly, but she wasn't fooled by the gentle tone. "you've proven yourself to be far more...interesting—than I thought you would be."
She swallowed thickly, not entirely sure how to process what he was telling her.
"H-How am I interesting?" she asked quietly, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "there's nothing special about me, I'm just-"
"But there is..." he interrupted quietly, his eyes flashing dangerously, "I've never seen a soul like yours." she immediately looked affronted, her shaking hands finally dropping the crystal vase as it crashed loudly, shattering into a million pieces. Unlike her, he didn't violently jump at the sound, but continued to look lazily at her.
"M-My soul?" she squeaked, shaking her head. What in Merlin was he talking about? Considering she had knowledge of his Horcruxes, the whole soul talk was going to make her extremely uneasy. He could never know she knew of the existence of his...
He grinned, almost evilly as her heart immediately started pounding her rib cage. He looked like he was about to do her some damage as his handsome features somewhat twisted. As she reached for her wand, she was thrown sideways, directly into an alcove with a shriek. Her cheek was against the wall as her body was pinned as she squeaked and desperately tried to move—especially when she felt his dark, cold presence against her back.
"Here's the thing..." he breathed quietly against the shell of her ear, making her body freeze as a chill ran down her spine at the sensuous baritone. "what happened with us could never have happened if you didn't want it Granger."
Her stomach dropped. No, he wasn't going to try to pull that one over her eyes. It was his fault—he'd done something to her. He was a dirty rotten lying snake. "I don't believe you." she hissed, refusing to believe that she ever want his filthy hands anywhere near her. He chuckled darkly, making her hair stand on edge and her stomach drop as she felt his tall, lithe body press into her back.
"But it feels so good..." he said slowly and sensually, reaching up and pulling the hair tie out of her hair and making her curls bounce and fall down her back. He grabbed them, squeezing lightly as he pushed them over her shoulder, pressing his cool face into the back of her neck. "...wouldn't you agree?" he asked lowly, goosebumps erupting all over her skin as she felt his soft, cool lips move against the back of her neck with his words.
Hermione was breathing heavily, half-distressed and half-excitement, her chest pushing against the stone wall with every inhale. Her skin was tingling, all of her senses super aware. Aware of her own pounding heart, aware of the fire that erupted in her veins at his closeness and touch...aware of the shame, deep in her stomach. She could hear his breathing, his breath sounding slightly strained against the back of her neck—his chest lightly pressing into her back, seeming slightly unsteady himself. She jolted when she felt something sharp against the back of her neck, making her gasp in surprise when she realized it was his elongated canines she had seen. They weren't quite long enough to be considered fangs, but she still bristled—surely, he wouldn't...? In the next moment, she felt his hands circle around her wrists the were against the wall at her waist, and shove them above her head, pinning them tightly to the wall again. She inhaled sharply at the clear power move, biting her lip when he groaned lowly against the back of her neck. If...if she didn't know any better, she'd say she was having a bigger effect on him than he was her. But she didn't understand how that was possible, seeing as she wasn't doing anything. He moved to the side of her neck, and she was cursing her own body as she instinctively moved her head to the other side, allowing him full access to the creamy expanse of her neck. She hadn't meant to, but she couldn't convince herself to move it back when she felt his nose glide upwards—inhaling deeply.
She instantly let out a gasp of mild pain when she felt a canine scrape her neck, making a small cut near her ear. Her knees shook and she gasped loudly when she felt something cool and wet tentatively lick the spot. He inhaled sharply and her eyes widened. He'd never brought up blood-status...but could he...tell? No, that was stupid. There was no way...a deep groan brought her out of her thoughts as his grip tightened almost painfully on her wrists. He had stopped, thankfully. It seemed he didn't want to drink her blood, but taste it—Not that that made it any less disturbing. Her mind kept willing her body to be more afraid, but she just couldn't and didn't know why. Logically, she was surprised she didn't dead faint on the spot.
"What—what are you doing?" she choked out, finally able to speak for the first time.
"Hmm..." he murmured quietly, lightly pushing his handsome face in her curls.
"Who are you?" she asked quietly, making him still behind her, pulling his face out of her curls as her pulse spiked in anticipation, her breath catching in her throat.
"I have many names..." he said quietly, bringing his mouth to her ear. "many of which I've failed to remember."
She stilled in astonishment, shock clouding her every thought as his words caught her by surprise. What in the name of Merlin did that mean? Was he admitting he wasn't human? She tried to think as her body hummed because of his nearness, confusing her and making her squirm slightly in discomfort. She...she couldn't think with him so close—with him pinning her wrists and lightly running his nose up her neck. How was she supposed to have a coherent observation?
"I think I want more..." he murmured quietly in a deep voice, removing his hands from her wrists, but Hermione found she was still unable to move them from the wall as he ripped her shirt out of her skirt once again, making her gasp in surprise as he wrapped a hand around her abdomen, curling it around her hip and pressing her into his chest. She started to object, but she realized what he was going to do and she ended up gaping like a fish, unable to force the objections to leave her mouth.
He tucked his face into the crook of her neck, chuckling darkly, making more goosebumps appear as his cool breath washed over her flushed skin.
"Do you think you can control yourself this time?"