September 19, 2009
6:59 AM
Tom stands on the roof ledge across the building with Hermione’s flat. It’s already a beautiful day, though a little too bright, and his shields are holding off a flock of persistent owls. He has a view of her face, half hidden under a mess of curls, but clear enough he can see a little drool coming out of her mouth. She’s laying mostly on her stomach and her shirt is riding up her back, he can see the back dimples above her arse. For a moment he imagines the feel of the small of her back under his hand, and moving his hand lower. He forces himself to shake his head clear.
He could easily hold the shields all day with barely a thought, but decides to relent and take them down, lest he decide to abandon his plan before it even begins. It’s time to put the day in motion. He watches for a moment, looking at her rub the sleep from her eyes and jump up to the window, before apparating to her flat.
7:00 AM
Hermione wakes up to the tapping of owls at the window and a bundle of packages already at the foot of her bed. Oh Merlin, it’s her birthday. She opens the window and accios some treats as the owls fight for her attention. She takes a bite of the fresh baked treacle tart.
She stumbles into the hall and hears knocking at her door. Ugh, can’t he give her some warning? She knows he plans far ahead and not telling her is a conscious choice, he’s not impulsive.
She quickly looks down at her rumpled shirt and flannel pajamas. She ditches the pajama bottoms, splashes her face with water, dabs her lips with some pink lip gloss, and runs back to the door.
She swings open the door to see Tom. He leans against the doorframe. His glasses are on and he’s flipping through a book. She has to intentionally restrain her hands from going up to touch the soft dark hair that lays in rumpled waves against his forehead, looking windswept for some godforsaken reason. His crisp, whitegray shirt sleeves are rolled up and she can see the muscles in his forearms move as he flips the pages. Oh Godric he doesn’t know what seeing him like this does to her.
Wait, no, he probably does.
“Good morning, Tom”
“Hermione, good morning. Happy birthday!” He leans forward for a kiss. Merlin’s pants, couldn’t she at least have had time to brush her teeth?
“We’re on the list for your favorite place tonight.”
“Thank you! Is that my present?”
“Of course not.”
“It’s not?”
It was never a good sign when Tom got that gleam in his eye.
“Afterwards, I’m going to take you home and touch you until tomorrow morning.”
Hermione nodded approvingly and stepped towards him.
“Nuh, uh, uh.” He holds up a finger at her. “One condition."
Of course, here it comes.
“What is it?” He loves when she furrows her brow like that.
“The whole night until midnight, you can look but not touch.”
“Not touch anyone?”
“Anyone, everyone, and you can't let them touch you.”
“And what if you touch me?”
“Hermione, darling, I can be patient.”
Oh, Tom, that smirk.
8:00 AM
Hermione never lost. This would not be an exception. Maybe Tom thought he was being cute and clever, ha bloody ha. That he would get her so worked up that she would be writhing and dripping with arousal by the time he got her.
Was this was payback for his birthday? She brought him to her favorite strip club and she let at least five strangers and two friends touch her. Tom never defined what they were or put any boundaries on it, and he seemed to like it. He joined in and they touched him, too, and she liked it. She liked the twinge of jealousy as she learned new ways to make him squirm. But maybe he had been jealous? His complete mastery of his facial expressions, not to mention skill at occlumency, made him very hard to read.
Yes, she would show him. He would be begging her to touch him before midnight. On the top of the first page of her notebook she began writing: Condition Attrition , Step 1.
9:00 AM
After establishing a rough sketch of her plan, Hermione opens the window for a straggling owl. It’s a note from Ginny.
Good morning Miss thirty, flirty, and thriving.
Get on my broom, bitch, we’re going shopping.
-Gin
Moments later Ginny appeared at her window.
“Happy birthday!!”
Hermione could waste an hour arguing only to end up going shopping, or she could go willingly now.
“Hi Gin! You know I’m not riding anything, magical or muggle, to go shopping.”
“You’re not riding anything? You sure about that?”
“Gin!”
“Who left those flowers in the entryway?”
Hermione ignored her question and pulled her into the room by the arm.
“Come on, let’s go,” she said as she threw some floo powder into the fireplace.
10:00 AM
Tom knocked on Ron Weasley and Harry Potter’s door.
Ron checked the peep hole and yelled, “Harry! I think it’s the Riddle fellow. You know, the one whose birthday we went to last month with ‘Mione?”
Frankly, Tom Riddle scared the bloody bollocks off Ron Weasley.
“Tom? What? Why?”
Harry ran to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face and tried to arrange his hopeless hair.
“I dunno,” Ron said between bites of a croissant.
Harry ran back out, sat down, stood up, and sat down again. What was he doing?
Ron shoved the rest into his mouth and wiped his hands quickly, getting up to open the door a crack. He said hesitantly, “Tom? What are you doing here?”
Tom stepped in, pushing Ron back like he wasn't there. He was only a couple inches taller than Ron and Harry, and yet seemed to tower over them.
“You know how I said if you touched Granger again I would burn your cocks off with fiend fire?”
“Yes,” Ron and Harry responded in unison.
“Well, she’s changed her mind. It’s her birthday, and I would never want to stand between her and what would give her the night of her fantasy.”
Ron gaped.
Harry said, “Look, you know I’m with Gin. Hermione’s brilliant and beautiful and kind and her curves are… well… she’s amazing and…. “ Harry’s spluttering was cut off by Ron’s cough. “Mate,” he said while pointedly looking back to Riddle.
“I happen to know that your Gin feels the same. Please be there tonight, Hermione will want you both.
“Wait.. Tom, what are you saying?”
But Tom had already walked himself out and shut the door.
Ron and Harry stood there with baffled expressions for a good 30 seconds before someone moved.
“Bloody hell, Harry. What was that?”
10:00 AM
Ginny clapped her hands with delight. She dragged Hermione to the backroom at Twilfitt and Tattings in Diagon Alley. Ever since Pansy Parkinson took over management, the lingerie selection had gone from vanilla to spicy jalepeño town.
Hermione strode out in a pink lacy set. The bra was pushup, and the knickers were low cut.
“Hermione, what are you - twelve?”
“Gin, come on! I think this set is quite pretty.”
“For a princess. Come on,” Gin gestured to the changing curtains.
Gin already had 9 sets in her arms, 4 for herself and 5 for Hermione.
Hermione’s favorite thing about wizarding lingerie was it was charmed to fit automatically once you tried it on. Hermione had also learned a few charms to make subtle alterations if the fit squeezed her a bit too much. She was proud to choose function over form, usually. But lately, the way Tom looked at her… the way she hoped he looked at her, was inspiring her to wear outfits that kept his eyes on her. Especially tonight.
Hermione shrugged and decided to let Gin take the reins. Harry fell head over heels for her in their sixth year for good reason. She was sassy, strong, and had the physique that accompanied a professional quidditch player.
Hermione emerged from the curtains with a black strappy set. She stood in front of the large angled three-sided mirror so she could easily see around the backside of her body. The criss-crossing bands were barely wide enough to cover her nipples, and crossed over each other to push and lift up her breasts. They showed off her arse quite nicely, too. This could work.
Ginny strutted out with a wicked tshirt and thong. The shirt was white and short. The amount of underboob was the size of two half grapefruits. The thong was glittery and also white.
“Gin there’s no way a couple things won’t pop out if you raise your arms even an inch.”
“Hermione, this is what sticking charms were made for.” Hmm, valid point.
Hermione’s eyes keep flicking towards Gin. Those abs are just not fair. And what is keeping her tits so perky with no support? Not fair, not fair. Or maybe that’s another charm… Hermione shakes her head and tries to focus.
When she comes out next she knows this is the birthday outfit. This is the one that will make Riddle beg.
It’s a dark burgundy slip that cuts low in the front and her back. The lace frames cleavage she didn’t know she had. The straps show off her toned back and shoulders. The material is sturdy enough to not quite look like lingerie and flowy enough to drape over her curves in the right places. It’s short enough that she’ll need to pick a thong she doesn’t mind if strangers see.
“Hermione, I’m going to ask Harry permission to fuck you right now.”
“Oh Gin, please, he would be so sad we didn’t invite him.”
Ginny guffawed.
Ginny insisted on paying as a birthday gift and Hermione treated them to Fortescue’s.
11:00 AM
Tom walked through the club to the room at the back. The man at the bar held up a hand and gestured to a sign, “Sir, excuse me sir, we open at 8:00pm.”
Tom sighed, threw him a quick nonverbal silencio , and continued walking.
He opened the door to Blaise Zabini, bent over in a deadlift. Blaise, the club owner, began his career as a stripper and quickly turned the eye of the most well-endowed clients, in both senses of the word. Then one day he picked up his business and clients and started on his own. The interest in him only grew.
Tom liked Blaise. Not only was he a fellow Slytherin, but he also had a terrible father. Blaise had once confided in Tom, and Tom happily ended the man. And now, Blaise owed him one.
Tom sat down on a bench and waited. Blaise’s arse was looking very nice from behind, complements to him. Blaise spun around, “What the fu—— Tom hello! Goodric you surprised me. I double and triple checked, you’re on the list tonight and you and Hermione would be welcome even if you weren’t.”
“Fine, fine.”
Blaise glanced behind Tom, the man at the bar shrugged his shoulders and gestured a little manically to their mouth. Tom rolled his eyes as Blaise pointed his wand, “ Finite. ”
“Tom, what can I do for you?”
“Zabini, hello hello.”
They exchanged pleasantries. Blaise was sipping on seltzer and reviewing the bookings for the night. How was Zabini’s mom, how was Zabini’s partner, etcetera. Then Tom cut to the chase.
“Tonight I’ve ordered Granger not to let anyone touch her. I want you to change her mind.”
“Oh come off it, Riddle, you know she’ll follow your instructions. Half the club is dying to have your attention when you walk in. If you make her do the opposite, if Granger even does what you want, one of us will disappoint you.”
“Then don’t let it be you.”
Tom paused. “Besides, she’s not like other witches.”
Blaise sighed, he didn’t want to disappoint the one man who might do better in the business than himself. But have him be mad at Hermione if he succeeded? Hermione, golden girl, top of her class, and everyone’s favorite patron? He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to meet a mad Tom Riddle.
“Blaise, do this or I so help me I will fuck your mother.”
Blaise spit out his seltzer. “Excuse me?”
Tom took a step closer so he was towering over Blaise. Blaise had gone from lounging with his feet up on the footrest to sitting straight up with arms crossed. He stood up and glared at Tom.
“Last fall I was at your manor in Italy, and she asked if I wanted to fuck her in your pool. I said no, but if you do not try your damnest to get your hands on Hermione, Merlin help me I will say yes next time. She’s the most beautiful woman I have ever met.”
Blaise grimaced and made a show of covering his ears while pretending to vomit. Yes, she was beautiful, but in a nurturing, kind sort of way, and good Godric Tom could not think of his mother like that. But he knew how his mother affected every man that came into her sphere of influence.
He sighed. “Fine. But you owe me, Tom.”
“I don’t owe anyone anything,” Riddle said, turning on his heel.
Except maybe Hermione, Tom thought to himself.
Hermione was beautiful and he burned with desire for her night and day, because she was a goddess. Blaise’s mom, on the other hand, was like a walking pornstar. He’d make good on his promise if Hermione gave him permission. Merlin, she might want to join.
12:00 PM
Tom stepped into the apothecary. He walked past the ingredients section and over to the section of already brewed potions. As he passed the shelf of Amortentia, he nonverbally cast an evanesco that made every vial permanently vanish. He chose two invigoration draughts, two Felix Felices, three sober-up potions, and a sensory enhancing potion.
Tom walked to the counter and nodded. “Snape.”
“Riddle.”
“If you don’t restock the amortentia you just vanished, I will personally ensure that your next pepper up contains polyjuice potion from a skunk.”
Riddle laughed.
“Thanks for the potions.”
Snape nodded.
“Tell Granger happy birthday.” Snape looked like he was about to vomit as the words escaped his mouth. Tom nodded.
Tom was Snape’s only supplier of Basilisk venom, which was a key ingredient in many of the underground weaponized potions he sold in the underground network. Snape gave Tom free rein because of it.
1:00 PM
Hermione walked through her favorite club to the room at the back. The man at the bar held up a hand and gestured to a sign, “Miss, excuse me ma’am, we open at 8:00pm.”
Hermione sighed, “Hi, sorry, you remember me, right? I’m Blaise’s favorite patron.” Not exactly true but not necessarily false.
“True or not, Blaise really can’t be having any -”
Hermione sighed and threw a nonverbal silencio his way.
The bartender threw up his hands in exasperation, hoping he wouldn’t have to get used to this treatment from Blaise’s friends.
She opened the door to Blaise Zabini, bent over in a deadlift at the back of the room. Wow, his arse looked good.
He spun around, “Granger! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“It’s lovely to see you, Blaise. Tom paid you a visit, yes?”
Blaise narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Hermione knew that was a yes.
“You and your entire staff will not bother me tonight or so help me I will have Gin bat-bogey hex your favorite dancer.”
Hermione didn’t need to threaten. She and Blaise usually understood each other.
Blaise reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder and then thought better of it and put it in his pocket. “Tom will literally fuck my mother if I don’t try to seduce you.”
“He wouldn’t and you can’t.”
“Do you want to find out?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Blaise, pretend to do what you need to. But you will not be touching even a corner of your pinky toe on my body tonight.”
“But how will you satisfy your foot fetish?”
“Hah hah, don’t yuck someone else’s yum, Blaise.”
Hermione scoffed as she turned to leave - foot fetish her arse. She had many fetishes and that certainly wasn’t one of them. Blaise knew that by now.
3:00 PM
“Hermione!” “‘Mione!” “Happy birthday!” Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Neville chorused a cheery greeting as Hermione flooed into the Burrow. Ron swooped in for a hug and Hermione sidestepped.
“Sorry, Ron, not today.”
Ron looked to Ginny for an explanation. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s a Tom thing.” Ron opened his mouth to protest but Harry cut him off with a look and a sharp shake of his head.
They had a cheery lunch with the full Weasley clan and her friend’s families. Hermione headed back home to get ready for the night.
6:00 PM
An owl pecked at Hermione's window bearing a little rectangular box that looked suspiciously like jewelry. Hermione gasped as she opened the lid, a monstrous sapphire meant to hang low on her chest. No sender’s note, which meant it must be from Tom.
8:00 PM
Hermione checks herself in the mirror one more time before heading out. Yes, she’ll get Tom to beg. And when he’s hard and desperate, she’ll make him wait until midnight.
Godric, she never imagined she would be caught up trying to attract such a man. Especially with a theoretically prejudiced, mass murderer. Genocide-committer, if she was being honest.
Years after the second wizarding war, her friends were either irreparably traumatized or dead. When years of research as an Unspeakable led to the creation an artifact like a portkey through space-time, that functioned more reliably than a time turner and with a round trip ticket, she didn’t hesitate. Like when she obliviated her parents, she knew she was making a choice that would likely alienate her loved ones forever. Harry and Ron might not know her when she returned. But she did it because she knew it was better than the shell of the lives they were living.
What did surprise her was that, upon her return, not much had changed. She could remember her lived past and her new altered past. She still had the same friends. But Harry’s parents never died. There had not been mortal threats at the end of each academic year. The main difference jumping from the past to present, was that now she needed to figure out what to do with a 22-year-old young man named Tom.
They bonded at first because both of them understood being taken out of one universe into another. Hermione told herself she stayed close to keep an eye on him. Then she just started staying close because he was her friend.
This Tom was charming, seductive, and manipulative. But he hadn’t committed a genocide. Turned out, he didn’t give two shits about blood purity. He just capitalized on the prejudice of the time.
Although his 22-year-old soul was whole, it retained the phantom memory of being ripped apart across space-time. He was not an ordinary man, but he carried a trauma of the events that never occurred, especially when he finally learned from Hermione what caused those feelings. He had forced himself into Hermione’s mind and saw all of it. It took a long while for Hermione to trust him after that. Godric, it took a while for him to trust himself after that. He coped by drinking, sleeping around, and dueling, but did not allow himself to practice the dark magic that would lead down that terrifying path. The end result would be worse than death.
He found he repeatedly gravitated back to Hermione, the one person who knew his alternate self. She kept accidentally bumping into him. He might have set up his daily routine so that those accidents happened more frequently. They eventually became acquaintances, friends, and then something more.
To Hermione’s frustration, she didn’t know how to move sleeping with a friend to something else and Tom would not explain. She coped by visiting her favorite club frequently. She tried sleeping potions, alcohol, muggle therapy, and other coping mechanisms, but nothing quite took her mind off the past and let her focus on the present like her physical relationships and play with people there.
9:00 PM
Tom and Hermione step inside the club. It’s dimly lit with industrial looking fixtures, and large round wooden tables and matching chairs.
A woman is in the front doing a demonstration. Her wrists are tied and the tips of her toes are barely touching the ground.
Hermione’s eyes scan the room but she doesn’t spot her friends yet. She loves to watch where his eyes linger when they visit. She glances at Tom’s face but he’s looking intently at her.
She usually feels comfortable here, but suddenly her hands feel awkward as she can’t place them on Tom’s arm and he’s not supporting her with his hand.
She leads them to the bar, almost grabbing his hand to pull him along. She usually would order a round of firewhisky but remembers she needs to stay strong and it’s only 9 PM - and asks for a vodka soda. What she really wants is a muggle energy drink.
Tom seems to be having similar thoughts and orders firewhisky shots for the birthday girl. Hermione narrows her eyes at him but takes the shots all the same, on the condition that he takes twice as many as her.
“Done.”
Tom spelled a sober-up potion into his bloodstream when Hermione wasn’t looking.
They spot Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Luna, and walk over to greet them. Everyone is in a good mood and excited to celebrate with Hermione. They grab a table and Ginny takes off her cloak.
Harry’s eyes grew big as his face screwed up with a giant blush. He took an unsteady step and Ron pulled out a chair for him, and ushered him in it. “You alright mate? Oh Godric Gin.” Ron tries to wrap his cloak around Ginny and she and Harry shoo him away.
Ginny looks pointedly at Hermione and held out her hand. “Cloak?”
Well, this was why they went shopping. Hermione shrugged off her cloak, revealing the silky lingerie clinging to her curves. The sapphire hung between her breasts.
She preferred wearing a bra, her tits were so fucking pointy without padding. And fuck if she didn’t want Tom to notice anyway.
9:30 PM
Ron walks over and stood next to her. “Hello ‘Mione, happy birthday!”
“Hi Ron, thanks!”
She smiles at him.
Ron takes a sip of his drink and fumbles with a couple chairs, trying to pull them out for the girls. His eyes dart around the room trying to land on someone who could save him. His eyes lingered on the topless dancer on the table and he quickly averted his eyes.
“Happy birthday!”
Hermione giggled. “Yes, you said that Ron.”
Ron shakes his head, realizing he was now staring at the arse of the pole dancer a few tables to the side.
“You need a refill?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Alright, well I might, uh, be right back.”
Ron walked away full well knowing his drink was still almost completely full. Merlin, walking on coals would be easier than navigating this place.
As he almost made it to the bar, Tom gripped his shoulder and angled him to a side room.
“Bloody hell, what now mate?”
“Weasley. Your instructions were clear, no?”
“Uh, I need to flirt with ‘Mione and get her to touch me. Look, you’ve got the wrong- “
“I’ll decide who’s right and wrong. Get back out there.”
Ron felt a glimmer of Gryffindor courage and decided to stand his ground. Yes, he wasn’t going to let this bully boss him around. Hermione wasn’t interested and he was going to continue getting over her properly.
“No.”
“No? Really. Are you sure?”
Tom gestured to the door to a petite blonde woman wearing a bedazzled bikini.
“You know Daisy?”
Yes, Ron knew Daisy. The plan to get over Hermione wasn’t really a plan, his only lifeline out of his Hermione spiral had been Daisy. She tied him up and sucked his cock, and Godric’s ballsack it was the first time he went 24 hours that Hermione angst had completely left his head.
Every time he stared too long at someone else here, he hoped Daisy didn’t glance his way and see.
“She will forget your name and wake up in the States tomorrow if you do not get out there and touch Granger.”
Tom knew Ron was the least likely to succeed, but he wanted the bloke to put in a solid effort.
To seal the deal he pulled out a vial. “This is her first memory with you. The one where you spilled your favorite thing to do to Granger and proceeded to do it to her. She won’t get it back unless you get back out there.”
He wasn’t bluffing.
Ron sighed and turned back towards their table.
10:00 PM
Hermione sat in the seat Ron had pulled out for her and sipped her vodka soda. She loved the atmosphere of this place. There were dancers of all genders and everyone tipped well. Blaise asked her once if she would like to earn some cash and they had put on a show that earned her a month of her ministry salary in one night.
Ron returned to his seat.
“So, uh, ‘Mione, how’ve you been?” He turned towards her to casually touch her shoulder.
Hermione jumped up and back like he was a bloody dark lord or snake. Or what’s that muggle thing called, excelricity, elecitrify…. ugh.
“Merlin, what’d I do?”
“Oh Ron, Tom’s got a bet that I can’t make it through the night without touching someone or anyone touching me.”
“Blimey, ‘Mione. Are you both mental?”
“Yes, probably yes.”
“Is he, you know, jealous? I bloody well would be. I mean, you’re dating each other right?”
“I think so? I don’t know. I think so?”
10:30 PM
“Blaise has a surprise for me.” Hermione gestures for Tom to follow her. He does and follows with enough distance to admire her smooth and muscled back, and perfectly shaped arse. His hands twitch and he reminds himself that he cannot slap or grab it yet. He considers using a sticking charm to attach both his hands to his sides.
Blaise is standing in a private well-lit room with various items laid out next to him.
“Hermione, the usual safety words?”
“Yes.”
Blaise has on a loose-fitting leather vest that is left open to show off his abs and the v-lines emerging from his boxers. Linguinal ligaments, she remembers a textbook saying. Blaise really couldn’t wear his boxers any lower without his cock popping out.
Hermione knows no one is allowed to touch her. But Tom didn’t say other things were off limits.
“Please, right here should do it.”
Blaise gestures to a small platform. Hermione steps up onto it.
Blaise swishes his wand and Hermione’s hands are bound and raised above the ceiling so her heels are barely able to lie flat on the floor.
“ Diffindo. ” Hermione felt the cut go through her dress and circle around her waist. Blaise swished and fabric was shrinking and tightening, transfiguring into a tiny burgundy thong and a lacy bralette. The bralette shrunk so that it felt difficult to take full breaths and she felt her breasts pressed, Godric she’d never achieved cleavage like this before, Pansy would be impressed.
Hermione had never seen this version of Tom. He usually had perfect posture, looked you in the eye, and had the first and last thing to say. Now his eyes were darting around, and he looked angry one moment and thirsty the next. He shifted uncomfortably and took off his jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
Blaise picked up a switch. He traced the outline of the new clothing and grazed over her shoulders and navel. She was looking down and Blaise lifted it to her chin and tilted her head back up. “Eyes on me, love.”
She couldn’t help but let her eyes flick to Tom on her way towards Blaise. He was on the edge of his seat, his knuckles white gripping the sides. He was flushed and his glare went from Hermione to Blaise and back to Hermione. Hermione was pleased to see a tent had been erected in his trousers and felt her own body respond.
Blaise walked around her and continued to touch without touching. He let the switch drag over her tits and Hermione sucked in breath. Then he went lower and lower until he was playing with the thong straps and teasing the fabric resting over her clit.
Then he raised his hand and brought the switch down directly on the same place. Hermione let out a whine.
Tom knew Hermione had a long list of kinks. But he didn’t love learning about them from someone else.
***
Blaise Zabini already knew he was fucked. So why not have some fun? Zabini looked over at Riddle. He looked like he was carved out of marble, his skin was so smooth and his face looked like some sort of imagined deity. Where the fuck did he even come from? How dare he?
So, if he was going to hell by either Riddle or Granger’s hands, he might as well have fun doing it. He locked eyes with Tom as he teased Granger again and again, running the switch between her legs, rubbing, and occasionally snapping it down hard. He watched Tom’s breath catch every time Hermione winced or whined. He wished he could use his hands to touch her.
Granger was gorgeous. Blaise knew most men and women alike would love to get their hands on her. Her tiny waist and full perky breasts caught the eyes of most club goers, and in conversation, she was one of the most quick-witted, bright people he had ever met. Extreme competence is so bloody attractive. Hermione had been his submissive a few times and both he and her had a good time.
But Hermione didn’t know he had always harbored a crush for Tom. She introduced them and she hadn’t said boyfriend or cousin, so that meant fair game, right?
Blaise set down the switch, picked up a flogger, walks as close as he dares, and breathes down Hermione’s neck. He takes the handle of the flogger and rubs between her legs. He whispers in her ear, “Tom is losing his shit. Merlin, you are beautiful, Granger.”
Blaise makes eye contact with Tom as he continues to whisper in her ear so Tom cannot overhear and rub the handle over her sex.
“Tom looks like he may actually combust. Oh Granger, how long is he? You’ve been holding out on me.”
Blaise steps back and considers what would make Tom squirm most. He knows Tom has let his eyes linger on her chest more than once.
He pushes the transformed bra up with his wand so both her tits are bare and raises the flogger.
He knows Granger can handle this, she has before.
He slaps it down and Granger lets out a gasp. Another, and another. She grimaces and starts to breathe heavier. And she starts to twist this way and that.
He whispers in her ear and asks if she’s okay. She smiles at him and says yes.
When Blaise started, Tom jumped to his feet. Then sat back down. Then unbuttoned his trousers. He was now palming and squeezing himself with his eyes shut.
Hermione noticed the shut eyes and made her reactions more of an audible experience, not that she could help the sounds coming out of her mouth. Blaise was ripped and was bringing down the flogger without any reservations.
Blaise continued until it looked like Tom was close. “Cum on her swollen tits, Tom.”
If he got Tom close and in a crazed state, he might just reach out and touch Hermione.
Blaise lengthened the rope attaching Hermione’s wrists to the ceiling, so Hermione was on her knees rather than standing. Tom’s face was screwed up in agony or ecstasy, it was hard to tell, but he was able to stand and walk towards them.
Blaise walked around to the back and began hitting Hermione’s arse with more of his strength. The little ways she flinched and twisted her body away were fucking fantasy material, Tom better be grateful for this show.
And just like that, Tom was painting Hermione’s chest and Hermione was looking gleeful like she had won a prize.
Blaise untied Hermione, transformed her clothes back, and asked if she wanted the usual healing and salves, which she denied.
Before Hermione left the room, she walked past Blaise and winked saying, “Don’t worry, your mom is completely safe, thank you.”
11:30 PM
Hermione saw what Blaise and her display did to Tom. It was time to find someone to push him over the edge. Or leave him there, more like it.
Hermione picked up Tom’s cloak as they left the room. Interesting, potions. She excused herself to the lady’s room and took at tiny bit of the Felix Felices. She couldn’t take so much that it would be obvious it was missing. And she would admit it if he asked. But if he had these, she couldn’t let him hoard all the fun to himself.
Hermione felt a nudge from Felix and stepped backward. She jostled Ron, who accidently shoved Harry into Ginny, his drink splashing all over Gin’s white t-shirt, if it counted as a shirt. Her nipples became even perkier wet and cold, and now her shirt was see-through.
Inspiration hit Hermione. She pulled Harry aside and made sure he was comfortable with it. Harry also revealed what Tom asked him to do and that he wouldn't - still the only wizard who could defy Tom.
Hermione has seen Tom before with other women, but never planned by her. Never when she’s had a front row seat.
Ginny and Tom have always had a cordial relationship. Gin had never been with Tom, but she had fooled around with Hermione and other partners before. Gin was more than happy to do Hermione a favor, especially one involving the tall mysterious Tom she had heard so much about from Hermione.
11:45 PM
Hermione leads Tom, Ginny, and Harry into a room. She’s talked it over with Gin already. She’s to get Tom as close to climax as possible without any release. If he wants that, he’ll either have to touch himself again or ask for Hermione’s help. In exchange, Hermione can do whatever she wants to Harry except go down on him. Gin says she reserves that for when Harry’s been good.
Hermione has had crushes on Harry from time to time. He holds every quality she thinks the ideal partner should have. But he’s not Tom. And in this universe, he’s not the boy who lived. The trauma Hermione knows he went through is foreign to this Harry. Gin knows Harry only has eyes for herself, and therefore has no qualms exchanging boys for the night.
Ginny grabs Tom’s hand and pushes him down onto a bench. Hermione takes a deep breath and steadies herself by taking a seat and crosses her legs. She’s holding Tom’s cloak and decides it’s time for the sensory enhancing potion.
Gin has her wrists tied behind her back and is removing Tom’s shirt with her teeth. Leave it to Tom to make the dom the submissive, she wouldn’t have let him get away with that. Her shirt would have dried by now but Tom has made it see-through again with his tongue.
Hermione beckons to Harry and jerks her eyes to the potion she’s holding. Harry’s gaze could burn up a room, but he sees it. He gives a brief shake of his head. Fine, no fun for Harry. Hermione swallows a bit and walks up to Ginny.
Credit to Gin, she also recognizes it right away. Her response is to open her mouth wide. Hermione pours half of what’s left and Ginny swallows. Then she opens again. Hermione shrugs and pours the rest in.
Tom, who is now topless and laying on the bench, suddenly has his jaw pried open by Gin as she leans down to kiss the rest of the potion into his mouth. Gin’s tits, still half protruding from the bottom of her tight white shirt, took on a special fullness every time Gin leaned down. Tom’s eyes followed them as her nipples grazed his chest and he swallowed what Gin gave him.
Hermione could already feel her senses sharpening, becoming hyper aware of the textures of her silk slip on her skin, the temperature of the air in the room, and the brightness of the lights. The afterburn of Blaise's thrashings. Tom's senses must have sharpened, too, because he dimmed the lights.
Gin was pulling off Tom’s pants with her hands still tied behind her back and Tom’s erection was on full display.
Hermione didn’t touch, but she got on her knees. Tom saw her and groaned. His cock twitched at the sight. He was still laying on the bench with his feet planted on the ground and she got in as close between his legs as she dared. She vanished his briefs and breathed onto him.
He closed his eyes and let out a pained, “nghhhh”.
She stuck out her tongue and feigned licking him, with at least an inch between where she really wanted her tongue to be touching.
Gin was using this time to straddle Harry and check-in that he would be okay with what was coming next.
Her heels clicked as she walked back and stepped through her tied wrists so they were in front of her. She slid under the bench and used one hand to grasp Tom’s cock and the other to hold herself up. Her head was still mostly under the bench so Tom could lock eyes with Hermione while Gin worked on the underside.
If Tom looked down he would see Granger’s face and feel Gin’ handiwork.
Ginny stroked and squeezed him, and then began using her tongue. She licked the base of his cock and then his balls, while continuing to work him. Tom was positively panting. Hermione gave Gin encouragement, “Yes, Gin, yes, perfect, right there.” Ginny licked and sucked, and worked her way back further, all while using her hand and salvia to keep a pumping rhythm. Tom wiggled and screwed up his face as she closed in on his rim and pushed her tongue against it. Hermione stifled a giggle, especially when she saw Tom’s hands begin to twitch. Gin and Hermione positioned themselves so Tom’s hands would reach down for Hermione’s hair, not Gin.
Felix gave Hermione a nudge.
Hermione said “Stop,” to Gin, right as Tom was sputtering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m going to…”
Gin pulled back and Hermione stood up, returning to her chair. Tom’s expression gave a, “What the fuck?” for a moment, and then he threw is head back and laughed. “Of course.”
He reached down to stroke himself but Gin grabbed her wand and sent her ropes flying around Tom’s wrists and arms, securing him to the bench. Tom went to undo it but looked up to see Hermione holding his wand. “Need your safe word, Tom?”
Hermione and Gin exchanged glances and set themselves an hourglass timer. “Be right back.”
Hermione and Gin whispered outside the room in the hall.
“Oh my god did you see his face?”
“Gin, you are positively a goddess!”
“You’ve been holding out on me Hermione, the wand matches the wizard.”
“Harry is going to just ravish you later.”
The last of the sand fell through and Hermione seated herself facing a wall of reflective glass. She wanted an all-angle view. Ginny took off his ropes and straddled his hips. She leaned down and Tom took a nipple into his mouth. Hermione felt herself getting wetter by the moment. Tom used his hands to push down Gin’s tight skirt and starts to pull at her white lace thong. His hands are all over her arse, tits, and cunt, moving, stroking and squeezing. He finds a sensitive spot over Gin’s clit and starts to tease her there, and she starts to squirm and pant.
Harry looks ready to jump out of his chair.
Even as much as Hermione loves Gin, she’s not sure how much more she can handle not being the one on top of Tom.
Gin pushes aside her thong as she strokes his cock and guides Tom to her center. He pushes himself into Ginny with a groan, his eyes squeezing shut and his mouth open. The veins in his hands are visible as he grasps her thighs and arse to push himself further into her. Gin gasps and makes a mental note to brag to Harry that he is longer.
Tom starts to thrust aggressively.
“Tom, be a gentleman.”
Ginny pushes her hips back to keep Tom at bay, not letting him in more than an inch. After he struggles and thrusts up, only to be denied, she comes off him and moves down his shaft, kissing and licking all the way. Her tongue skips his cock and moves down to the bottom of his balls. Tom groans.
Tom fights his binds, wanting to reach up and pump himself, but they hold. He locks eyes with Hermione. Hermione’s soft lips part as she looks back at him. He wants those lips around him. He stares at her and feels Gin’s tongue on his taint. Then sucking. Then licking again. Ughhhh.
Felix nudges Hermione to be a little more visible. She stands up, never breaking eye contact. She takes her small metal chair and flips it so it's facing backwards. She slips off her thong, shrinking it and folding it neatly into her beaded bag. She nudges out one of her knees, and then the other, until she’s straddling the chair at an almost 180 degree angle. Tom’s breathing picks up.
Felix tells her that she should let her straps fall. Hermione briefly pinched her tits to make sure they were flushed and erect, they’re slightly taller than the short chair back, and Tom can see them poking against the fabric of her lingerie. As she shifts and the straps fall lower, he can just barely see the top of one nipple. More importantly, the chair back is made of wooden rungs, so Tom has a clear almost unobscured view of Hermione’s cunt. Both her tits and cunt are still red and swollen from the flogger. She continues staring down Tom and begins to stroke herself slowly.
Tom sees that the lace lingerie has ridden up her legs and barely covers her hips. Her perky tits are begging his hands to hold them. She shouldn’t have to spread her thighs, he should be pushing her legs wide for him.
If he could walk over to her right now, he would put his hands on her knees and lightly breath and flick his tongue over her clit. He would get his fingers wet and push them slowly into her, as he worked her clit with his thumb and tongue. His eyes flick upwards.
Her eyes are laughing at him. She knows what he was looking at and what she manipulated him to think. Oh she will pay.
She will…
ughhhhjh Gin’s tongue just pushed up on his rim as she twisted him with both hands.
Hermione reaches up and pushes down one strap of her slip the rest of the way, and then the other. Oh my fucking Godric her tits are carvings from heaven.
Hermione gets to her feet and Tom barely has any sense of where Gin is or what she’s doing. Hermione grabs the tiny fabric that is her thong out from her beaded bag.
“Stop. Make him smell this.”
Gin shakily gets to her feet and lifts it to Tom’s nose. He inhales deeply and feels the blood rush to his already hard cock.
Hermione nodded. “Put it in his mouth.”
Gin stuffs Hermione’s thong into Tom’s mouth and proceeds to lower herself back down onto him.
Hermione has learned a lot of her spell work by trial and error. She is baffled why more wizards and witches don’t just learn more Latin and Greek. Lumos gets you light. Imperio commands someone. Vibrato, lubrico, Hermione thinks as she points her wand at Gin.
The swishes and flicks that accompany the words come naturally. She really ought to publish something for the poor clueless witches she’s encountered.
Ginny stops her thrusts as she feels the vibrations on her sensory-enhanced clit and it makes her pulse around Tom. Tom can feel her squeeze and vibrate around him. Gin squeezes her eyes and her legs shake. Tom, no longer really in control of his impulses, grabs Gin’s arse with handprints that will leave bruises and thrusts hard and fast. Over and over. Hermione has not stopped with the vibrations and Gin is getting spun tighter and tighter. Hermione steps closer and guides Harry. He worships Ginny’s perky tits over her shirt, and squeezes one nipple, and then the other,while Hermione continues the vibrations. Ginny gasps and sighs and shakes.
Gin moans, “Oh Merlin oh fucking Merlin, Harry, fuck, oh Harry,” and locks mouths with Harry as her body shakes and her cunt convulses. She rides Tom as she shudders and finally goes limp. Tom never stops thrusting, a twisted grimace on his face, but Gin wrenches herself off.
Tom’s cock is strained and naked, twitching by itself. Hermione sits and crosses her legs, reminds herself to look at her nails even though her mind is screaming at Tom to get his head out of his arse and rail her already.
Tom vanishes his bonds and props himself on his elbows. He looks at Hermione without moving for either half a second or a year, Hermione isn’t sure, because time stopped.
Then, abruptly, Tom has had enough, he stands up and literally lifts Hermione out of the chair and carries her like a doll to the bench.
“Oh thank fuck,” she says as she wraps her legs around him, sucks on his neck while pressing one hand against his muscled back and digging the other into his dark brown waves.
He takes the thong from his mouth and stuffs it into Hermione’s. He sets her down and arranges her on her back, tying her wrists together below the bench like he was before. He vanishes her clothes without his wand and abruptly runs his tongue from her arse to her cunt to her clit. She was already so wet.
Hermione’s eyes grew big and her anxiety spiked as she realized that Tom’s eyes started to glint red. There was no smirk of humor or flirtatiousness, he was all fire, passion, and desperation. And she had provoked him.
He spreads her knees wide and rams into her without warning.
Hermione half screams half moans and Tom pushes harder. When Tom is on the verge of coming yet again, he withdraws. He pulls out the thong from her mouth. Hermione sucks in air.
“No, wait, don’t stop. Tom, I need you.”
“You need me?”
Tom positions himself in front of her mouth and thrusts in just as hard as he did to her cunt. Hermione knows how to take him. And he sure as fuck better make it up to her later. He pulls out and walks around so he’s standing up by her head, and has full access to her body with his hands. Her hands are still restrained beneath her.
He pulls her up towards him, so her head is hanging off the end of the bench. Hermione’s eyes grows big, she’s shared with him that this is the only position that scares her, because she has no control and he has all of it.
“You wanted me to touch you? Well fuck Hermione, I’m going to touch you all over.” He pushes deep into her throat and holds there while he caresses her hips, her stomach, and squeezes and twists her nipples. He can feel her throat trying to eject him.
He reaches down to flick at each breast with his tongue. Doing so pushes him slightly further down her throat. Godric her body was fucking perfect.
He pulled out and she gasped for air. “Godric fuck Tom, are you trying to kill me?”
Tom didn’t respond but thrust back in and out, building rhythm, not as deep, and continued to lick her chest. He pulled out again to give her a chance to breathe.
“Please, Tom, please be inside me,” she begged.
“What’s that?”
“Tom, please!”
“Sorry?”
Now Tom was smirking.
“Fuck me, Tom, I want your fucking cock inside me right this instant.”
In the distance Hermione notices that Ginny is now on a chaise and Harry is worshiping her body with his tongue, likely why they haven’t protested.
He drove deep into her throat several more times and while pinching her nipples hard. He had to freeze and think of cold showers to stop himself from coming right then. Her eyes were watery when he pulled out and moved back to her cunt. He pushed in and he was seeing stars, she felt delicious and warm, and he was exploding into nothing. She was everything and all he ever wanted. She was the thing his alternate self searched for and never found. She was the sun, the moon, the stars, and the galaxy. He pressed into her as he rode out his high, jerking and quaking. Each pulse was so delicious and overwhelming as they sent shockwaves through his whole body.
He untied her bonds by hand and scooped her up as he came back to himself.
1:00 AM
Fuck. Hermione won. Tom should’ve known better, and now he didn’t get to take her home and fuck her glorious self into bloody oblivion the entire night, she had to learn her lesson, obviously. But fuck he wanted her.
Harry Potter found him sulking at the bar, ordering firewhisky shots for Hermione’s friends and extra for himself.
“Mate, look, I know you and Hermione had some sort of weird game going on. I’ve known Hermione since our first Hogwarts Express. You really can’t win once she decides something. What does she get now that you’ve lost?”
Tom looked down at Harry. He looked down on everyone, but there was something about Harry that made him pause. Most people were a little skiddish or anxious around him, like they could sense he could snap at any moment and it would likely end in pain for them. But, aside from Hermione, the last people that dared treat him like Harry did were kids in the orphanage, when he was young and before he had built up a reputation.
Harry had also shared Gin with him and seen him broken by Hermione, so there was that.
Tom shot down the firewhisky and said, “I promised her I’d ravish her all night if she didn’t let anyone touch her. She didn’t and I called it off, because I have no self-control around that witch.”
“Tom. Tom, Tom, Tom. You do know that doesn’t mean you can’t? Like, you still can ‘ravish her all night’ if you want.”
“And give her that satisfaction? Show her my words are meaningless?”
Harry shrugged. “So tweak it. Do it somewhere else. Or make her touch you instead. You know? Gin would have better ideas than me.”
“You’re saying punishment for her doesn’t need to be punishment for me?”
“Err, not exactly but….”
Tom slapped him on the back before he could finish and said, “Thanks, mate, you’re absolutely right.”
Harry rubbed the back of his neck and swore he was never sharing Gin again, even as a favor to Hermione.
Tom downed a pepper up and held the other in his hand which he planned to give Hermione if she would still have him. Then he headed back towards the main room to search for her.
1:30 AM
Tom found Hermione and grabbed her hand. “Hermione.” He cast a nonverbal muffliato and took her other hand.
“Hermione, you own me, body and soul.”
It took a moment to register what Tom said, and then Hermione’s eyes grew wide, looking up at him.
“Will you let me take you home and adore you, even though you broke me?”
Hermione smirked. “Yes, Tom.”
And Tom did.