Title: Cupid Crystal Cave

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: This is AU. So stuff is going to be weird. Just flow with it, okay? ;) basically, Tom Riddle was born years later than in canon and went to school with Harry, Ron and Hermione. He's still and ass, though, so not that much changed.

So far, this is a two-shot. Maybe I'm gonna write a third chapter, but I'm not sure about that yet.

This fic is dedicated to pumpkin-dream, my tumblr buddy, who came up with the plot idea. So yeah… if this sucks, go blame her hehehe

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Cupid Crystal Cave

Oh boy, Hermione thought as she stood in front of the garishly illuminated building. There was a large neon sign in form of a blinking heart shot through by an arrow. Right below that was another neon sign announcing the name of this establishment in twirly writing:

Gilderoy's

Cupid Crystal Cave

Whoever came up with that stupid name for a strip club needed to get slapped in the face. Hermione's nose crinkled with consternation and she wanted to turn on her heels and leave at once. If only she could. Hermione sighed tiredly. She really really didn't want to go in. This wasn't her kind of thing; she shouldn't even be here. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do but to resign herself to her fate. Grudgingly, Hermione walked towards the club's entrance.

"Hermy!" Someone latched on her arm, hugging her enthusiastically. "Hermy. This is awesome. You're my bestest friend in the whole world."

The drunken statement was accompanied by a wet kiss on Hermione's cheek. A grin worked its way on her face. Hermione turned her head and looked down at a very drunk Ginny. Her eyes were glassy and a wide smile split her face. By now Ginny's hair flew wildly, somehow still managing to look fantastic, and was barely tamed by the plastic tiara on top of her head. Miraculously, the flaming red hair didn't even clash with the pink shirt she was wearing. Hermione reached for her friend and gently adjusted the sash that hung over her shoulder, proudly proclaiming: Hens Night and, in a larger font, Bride-to-be.

"Yeah." Another arm was wrapped around Hermione's shoulders. "Didn't think you had it in you. A strip club?"

Hermione turned to Parvati who smirked up at the large neon heart, mirroring the expression on her twin's face exactly. Padma giggled and agreed with her sister, "Yes, you more than fulfilled your role as maid-of-honour."

"Yesh!" Ginny yelled into Hermione's ear, hugging her tightly.

Before Hermione could reply anything a dreamy voice butted in, "I heard some strip clubs are haunted by Knats. Maybe we're lucky and see one."

Hermione chuckled softly. Luna was steadying a rather drunk Alicia while she interestedly eyed the club with her large silvery eyes. Ginny smiled along, staggering drunkenly where she stood.

"You're the most awesomest maid-of-honour, Hermyninny."

Hermione smiled at her friend. "I'm glad you're having a good time."

Ginny nodded enthusiastically. Alicia seemed to wake from her drunken stupor and added teasingly, "Yeah. Don't forget, after this your life as an unmarried woman's over. Done with. No fun for you anymore."

Ginny tried to throw Alicia an evil eye, but instead broke down into giggles. She seized Hermione by the arm and announced,

"Let's go in, yes?"

Hermione still wasn't overly enthusiastic about entering a strip club, but allowed Ginny to pull her towards the entrance. After all, this was Ginny's hens night and Hermione wanted her friend to have as much fun as possible.

ooOOHGTROOoo

The interior of the club was exactly what Hermione had expected. The light was dimmed and music blared from huge speakers. A dancefloor in one corner of the club invited the guests to dance, while handsome barkeepers stood behind a large bar, serving fancy drinks. The main attraction, though, were neither the dancefloor nor the drinks (although they were consumed in great quantities). Throughout the club, several round tables were strategically placed. Some had a dancing pole others didn't, but on all of them stood half-naked men, dancing to the music, showcasing their fit bodies. Occasionally, they ripped a piece of clothing from their bodies, eliciting cheers from the women that flocked around the respective table.

Hermione blinked at the spectacle. This really wasn't her type of thing. Her friends seemed to be off another opinion. Ginny laughed happily and dashed over to one of the strippers. Luna, Alicia, Padma and Parvati followed her, all smiling widely. Hermione, on the other hand, decided to push her way through to the bar. She really needed something to drink. She wasn't nearly drunk enough for this yet.

"Vodka sour, please," Hermione ordered her drink and happily welcomed the glass as the barkeep slid it over to her.

Holding her glass, she meandered away from the bar. Her gaze sought out her friends. By now, they stood at one of the tables, ogling the handsome man dancing for them. Hermione chuckled softly as she watched their happy faces. They certainly were having a good time. She was glad the hens do was a success.

Hermione didn't join her friends, though, feeling quite exhausted already. All night, she had guiltily hidden her dejected mood from her friends. She didn't want to ruin the fun her friends were having. After all, Ginny was the most important person and she deserved the best night ever. Hermione was glad that no-one had noticed anything wrong with her, but she was far from being in a mood to celebrate.

Holding on to her drink, she stepped away from all the commotion and sat down at one of the tables. This one hosted no stripper and was quite abandoned. Hermione preferred it this way. With dull eyes she looked down at her vodka sour. Her fingers nestled with the straw. She couldn't help it as once again her thoughts wandered to the night three days ago. The memory made Hermione's chest tighten painfully and she took a hearty swig from her drink.

Why didn't he just tell me?

Hermione couldn't believe it had ended like that. It was so strange. She had never even considered that they wouldn't make it. The end had crept up on her and she'd been too stupid to notice …until it'd hit her in the face.

How could he do that to me?

Merlin, Hermione yearned to tell her best friend – she needed someone to talk to –but she couldn't bother Harry with this. Not when he was going to get married in a few days. Hermione was not going to trouble him with her problems. On top of that, Ron was his best man. No. No, Hermione couldn't tell anyone. She'd only spoil the good mood. They'd find out soon enough anyway. Hermione's stomach flopped. She'd show up to the reception without a date, all on her own, while Ron had… while Ron…

Hermione left the unpleasant thought hanging and glanced over to her friends. A small smile stole on her face. Ginny sat on a chair while one of the strippers gave her a solo performance, bent over her, rubbing his barely clothed crotch over her leg. Ginny laughed, eyes glinting, and playfully ran her hands over the stripper's hard biceps. Parvati and Padma cheered her own, both laughing happily, while Alicia was busy making mooneyes at her own stripper. Meanwhile, Luna sat at a table and was in a seemingly serious conversation with another barely clothed man. He hung from her lips, eyes wide, and listened with rapt fascination.

Hermione averted her eyes from her friends and tiredly rubbed her temples. She really needed to get a grip on herself. A break-up wasn't the end of the world. She'd get over this. Eventually. It was just all so disappointing. Maybe she should've just cursed Ron as she'd caught him with his pants down, so to speak. In the end, though, it wouldn't have changed anything. Uncomfortably, Hermione wondered if Ron would bring his new flame to the reception. She pulled a face at the thought. If she'd never see Ron or Lavender ever again, it wouldn't be too soon.

Hermione's inner rant was rudely interrupted as suddenly a man climbed on the table she was sitting at. She could only just save her vodka sour from getting trampled on. Disgruntled, she glared up at the man. He wore a garishly red suit. His blonde hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and a big smile on his face revealed pearly white teeth.

"Ladies, may I have your attention?" the entertainer guy boomed, obviously a Sonorous Charm amplifying his voice.

Attracted by this, a few patrons wandered over to Hermione's table. Disgruntled, Hermione sipped from her drink. Maybe she should get a bit away from this. The entertainer smiled charmingly at his audience and continued,

"I, Gilderoy Lockhart, am happy to be able to welcome so many beautiful guests tonight."

By now, more and more rather inebriated women flocked around the table, smiling and giggling. This was unfortunate because Hermione was now trapped in the crowd, right at the front. Nice, thick sarcasm echoed through her head and she took another gulp from her drink. Meanwhile, Lockhart's voice boomed over the cacophony of drunken laughter,

"I hope you're all having a good time tonight?"

At that the women cheered their agreement. Hermione resigned herself to her fate and slumped back in her chair. Big grin in place, Lockhart bowed to his audience and announced,

"I recommend you all sit back, have a cold drink and enjoy this night's climax."

His last word reduced his female audience to intoxicated giggles, whoops and catcalls. Hermione could only roll her eyes. Regrettably, now that she was imprisoned between drunk women, she'd have to sit this through. Glaring darkly at the entertainer guy, Hermione downed the last rest of her vodka sour. Then she signalled to one of the waiters to get a refill. At least there was no shortage of drinks. They knew where the money came from, didn't they? Meanwhile, Lockhart continued loudly,

"Without further ado," He raised his arm, gesturing to the door right from the table. "heeeeere comes Parsel luv!"

Music thrummed from the speakers, the bass shaking up Hermione's whole body. The crowd cheered while a deep frown appeared on her brow. Another act? Apparently, a popular one, judging by the women's enthusiastic yells. Geez, Hermione sighed in annoyance and took a gulp of her new drink, almost downing the whole thing.

The curtain by the door was parted and through stepped a dark-haired man. Hermione wasn't paying much attention and boredly swirled her drink with the straw. Through the corners of her eyes, she saw how the stripper jumped on the table with cat-like grace.

A charming smile curled his lips as the dark-haired man bowed deep to his audience, making a few of the women swoon. Hermione rolled her eyes at their crazy antics. Unenthusiastically, she watched as the man straightened up again. Still smiling attractively, he started to moved his body to the music.

Now that Hermione really payed him attention, she was strangely captivated by this man. Her eyes followed his graceful movements and she had to swallow dryly. Hermione had to admit, this man was hot. Quite hot, yes. She licked her lips, eyes trained on the man. He wasn't like the other strippers she'd seen in the club. Their tanned bodies were overly brawny, muscles looking like balloons that were inflated so much they might pop any second. Not so this man. He was tall and slim, certainly not weedy, though. Hermione could see wiry muscles stretching underneath his clothes. Deliciously, a white shirt and black trousers tightly hugged his form. A loose tie casually hung from his neck and Hermione caught herself wishing to reach for that tie and pull the unknown man down to her.

Mesmerised by the man, Hermione let her eyes wander over him until they reached his face. Her breath caught. Strong jaw-line, high cheekbones, he was flawlessly beautiful. Every curve, every angle was formed to perfection as if that handsome face was the final masterpiece of a famous sculptor. His shiny dark hair was gelled back, like a model from a 1940s catalogue. Still a few strands of hair dared to escape and casually hung into his face, enhancing his beauty. His lips were turned upwards into an intoxicating smile that seemed to draw Hermione in. The whistles and cheers of the other women dropped into the background and she had eyes only for that man.

Parsel luv?

His body moved to the music as if he'd been born to dance. Long thin fingers elegantly brushed over his chest. Hermione released a low hiss of a breath as those elegant fingers started to undo the shirt buttons. Like entranced, she watched as more and more of Parsel's broad chest came into view. Almost, Hermione opened her mouth to cheer him on. Blushing slightly, she sipped from her drink, never taking her eyes from Parsel. His shirt now hung open, allowing her to feast on the sight of his chiselled chest. If only she could run her fingers over those firm pectorals, down to perfectly worked abs and- Hermione swallowed as she spotted the happy trail leading from his belly button down until it disappeared into the waistband of his black trousers. A hot feeling was swelling inside her, dropping down into her stomach and lower still. Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand as Parsel finally slipped out of his shirt and let it drop to the floor. Now naked from the waist up, he danced and Hermione's eyes were glued to his perfect body.

Guiltily, she glanced to her friends and was quite relieved to see that they were still sitting at one of the other tables. Ginny now cheered on a stripper who was busy dancing for an embarrassed looking Padma. Hermione's attention shifted back to her stripper. Parsel still gracefully danced to the music, dark hair glinting seductively in the dim light, and Hermione suddenly felt the need to jump on the stage. She wanted to grab him by the arm and wrench him off the platform, away from the other women's gazes, so she could have him all to herself …so she could do things to him. Delicious, dirty things. A shaky breath fell from Hermione's trembling lips. H- how ridiculous, she decided and yet her heart hammered in her chest. The hot feeling still burned between her legs and Hermione shifted in her seat.

Parsel twisted his perfect body to the music. An enticing smile revealed his white teeth and he raised his arm. Hermione watched as Parsel snapped his fingers and his magic stormed around him. It ripped at his trousers and Hermione's eyebrows shot up as the magic torturously slowly ate away from the black fabric. More and more of Parsel's bare skin was revealed and Hermione felt her blood starting to boil with awakening passion. Soon his trousers were gone, with it his shoes and socks.

The thrums still thudded from the speakers and Parsel's body moved to the music, firm muscles working under pale skin in an almost hypnotic manner. A flush of hot desire hit Hermione hard as her gaze wandered over the last piece of clothing he wore. The skimpy dark green pants were adorned with lacy ornaments. It was as Hermione spotted a tiny little green ribbon sewn to the front that she realized Parsel was wearing women's knickers. This wasn't really something she'd ever thought of but seeing Parsel like this made raw lust consuming Hermione, driving away all rational thought.

Her hand itched to pull her wand. Easily, she could catch Parsel and apparate with him away. A soft groan fell from Hermione's lips. First thing, she'd rip those provocative knickers from his body. Then she'd have her way with him. She'd run her fingers all over his lovely pale skin, cherishing it. And she wouldn't allow him to escape until she'd completely ravished him.

Dirty, arousing pictures entered Hermione's mind and lust pooled in her stomach. That man was driving her crazy. The thin knickers really left not much to the imagination. She greedily licked her lips as her eyes travelled over the large bulge in the green fabric. Parsel moved his hips to the music as he danced over to one of the other women. Hermione watched as he leaned down, devastatingly beautiful smile playing around his lips, and brushed his fingers over the woman's cheek. Hermione was hit by an irrational feeling of jealousy. The blonde woman stiffened, eyes glazed over, and a stupid smile appeared on her face. Hermione couldn't even blame her. Parsel winked at her and the blonde melted into a happy puddle.

It was as he bent up again and his eyes shortly flashed in Hermione's direction that it hit her like a ton of bricks. For a moment she could do nothing but stare with wide eyes at Parsel. It couldn't be, could it?

Incredulously, she watched him dance in that enticing way of his. No. No, that wasn't possible …was it? The black hair and pale skin were familiar. Hermione hadn't seen that face in seven years, but now she remembered. In disbelief, she stared at those startlingly grey eyes. It was them that had finally given him away. Hermione had seen those eyes before. Back then, though, she'd never noticed how beautiful they were. Her hand tightened around her cocktail glass, almost to the breaking point, and her incredulous lips formed the words,

Tom Riddle?

Thoughts swirling like crazy, Hermione stared at the dark-haired man and memories boiled up in her.

Hermione's frizzy hair stood up from her head in odd angles. Her uniform shirt was crinkled and her school bag hung hazardously from her shoulder as she walked at a fast pace through Hogwarts' corridors. She hadn't realized it was this late already. After ten. She'd missed dinner and hadn't even noticed. Feeling frustrated, she ignored her empty stomach as she jogged towards Gryffindor tower. NEWTs were coming up. Only a few weeks and that was it. Over. In the name of Merlin, Hermione wasn't ready at all. What if she failed Transfiguration? It was possible. Professor McGonagall's class was difficult.

Hermione nervously worried her lower lip. What about Potions, though? Snape hated her. She'd fail that for sure. Or Ancient Runes. She hadn't learned nearly enough. Cold as ice, panic rushed through her. Oh, no. Hermione tugged at her curly hair anxiously. She shouldn't have taken so many classes. She'd fail each and every one. There simply was no time. What would her parents say? Merlin, she couldn't even go back into the Muggle world when she failed all her NEWTs. She'd have neither a graduation in the Wizarding World nor in the Muggle world. What would happen to her then? Hermione groaned fearfully.

Maybe she should go back to the library? She didn't need to sleep every night, did she?

Panicky thoughts knotting up her mind, Hermione wasn't prepared at all as a smooth voice cut through the silence of Hogwarts' abandoned corridors,

"Ms Granger," that silky voice said. "Out after curfew, I see?"

Hermione startled violently and whirled around. She almost hissed in frustration as she spotted the Head Boy, flanked by two other Slytherins, Avery and Nott. Ug. Just her luck. Her nose crinkled in distaste. Hermione had no patience to deal with Tom Riddle at this moment. Angrily, she watched as Riddle arrogantly stalked over to her, smug smirk on his face.

"I'm very sorry," Riddle lied. "but I'll have to take five points from Gryffindor because you broke curfew."

His grey eyes shortly skimmed over Hermione's form, halting at her rumpled uniform and unkempt hair. Disdain washed over Riddle's handsome face and Hermione tugged her black robe tighter around herself, feeling insecure. Of course, Riddle looked perfect as ever, impeccably dressed in Hogwarts' school uniform. Hermione glared at him angrily and snapped,

"What about your friends, then?" She gestured at Avery and Nott standing behind Riddle. "They're not allowed out after curfew either."

Riddle smirked at her darkly. "Maybe I already took points from them."

Somehow Hermione doubted that. Irately, her eyes wandered over the smirking faces of Avery and Nott. Through gritted teeth, she fumed,

"Look, Riddle. I was in the library, okay? I simply forgot the time."

"Oh?" Riddle cocked a derisive eyebrow. "Whatever were you doing in the library this late?"

"Studying," Hermione growled, temper peaking. "NEWTs are coming up."

A melodious laugh fell from Riddle's lips. Then he told her, scorn dripping from his every word, "I don't even know why you try. Do you really think a Mudblood could ever be able to compete with Purebloods."

His hurtful words cut into her and Hermione's hands balled into fists. She still couldn't believe someone like Riddle had been made Head Boy. He was a creep. Anger flaring up in her, Hermione snarled fiercely,

"I can! I'm certainly better than you."

Avery's face distorted into an angry snarl as if she'd just now insulted him and not Riddle.

"Shut up, Mudblood!" Avery growled furiously.

Hermione stiffened as Nott reached for his robe pocket. He wouldn't pull his wand, would he? Only now, Hermione realized how dangerously alone she was right now. A small wave of Riddle's hand and Nott stopped his actions. Hermione's attention wandered from his cronies back to the Head Boy. Riddle scanned her through cold grey eyes. His face gave nothing away, but Hermione could feel his powerful magic bristling around him. She shuddered as the force wrenched at her irately. What was wrong with these people? Hermione knew Riddle was an incredibly strong wizard, but he was Head Boy, he wouldn't attack her, right? Ice cold chills ran up and down her spine.

"You're a Mudblood, Granger", Riddle hissed at her, vicious smirk sharpening his features. "You'll never beat me at anything. Remind me, what was the mark you got in the last practical test in DADA?"

Hermione glowered at him darkly and Riddle's smirk widened sadistically. "An E, wasn't it?" He shook his head in mock pity. "How embarrassing. I thought the test was quite easy, you know. Got an O myself."

Riddle stepped closer to her, grey eyes boring into her. With an air of disdain, he scanned her. The Head Boy was quite a bit taller than Hermione and his magic still crackled around him aggressively. She jutted her chin in defiance, refusing to be intimidated, and glared up at him.

"You're inadequate." Like poison Riddle's words etched into her. "Deep down, you know I'm right. It doesn't matter how much work you put into school or how many spells you memorize, you'll always fail."

The Slytherin bent down to her and Hermione flinched as he whispered into her ear, the cruel words dancing off his tongue, "Hermione Granger, you will never be good enough."

She stiffened under his harsh words. Suddenly, her eyes burned but Hermione refused to let the tears fall. Riddle stepped away from her. She hated how his grey eyes burned in sick triumph.

That particular memory sure wasn't a very pleasant one, but it didn't really bother Hermione anymore. She had proven his cruel words to be empty. Hermione had grown out of her school girl insecurities. Pursing her lips in contemplation, she leaned a bit forward in her seat, staring at Parsel. Or Riddle, wasn't it? His body still gracefully moved to the music, naked except for those green knickers. Now and then Riddle allowed one of the women to push a note into the elastic band of the knickers and would give them an extra performance. Hermione's eyes burned up with gleeful amusement, never leaving Riddle, and a sleazy smirk formed on her face.

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