Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!

AN: Written for the Tomione Fanfics "2018 Valentine's Lemonade Smut fest"…Happy Valentine's day ;)

Hermione was in a foul mood as she took her seat in the great hall beside Harry; it's not that she hated Valentine's day…okay, yes she did. She hated the way the majority of the female population seemed to lose all sense of self-respect in order to gain the attention of the opposite sex, fawning over boys who most of the time wouldn't give them the time of day. It's was pathetic, really.

"Have you asked anyone to-" Harry began to ask.

"No." Hermione snapped, effectively ending the conversation.

Harry held up his hands in defeat and turned back to his breakfast, thankfully dropping the subject.

She knew he meant well, but honestly, she had no interest in finding a date for the stupid Valentine's party that the prefects decided to throw in order to improve inter-house relations. She could be perfectly polite to members of the other houses without the forced awkwardness of a being someone's date. She shivered as the memory of attending one of Slughorn's party's with Cormac McLaggen popped into her head.

Her thoughts were interrupted a moment later as the owls swooped into the hall to deliver the mail. Hermione cringed as the incessant giggling rose to a headache inducing level, as Valentine cards and gifts were delivered. To her surprise, a tawny owl landed in front of her, dropping a small scroll on her plate. She wrinkled her nose as she picked up the scroll, making sure to do a few scanning spells to make sure it wasn't cursed, and opened it.

It was blank.

"Hominem Revlio" she whispered as she tapped her wand on it, but to her dismay, it remained blank.

"What's that?" Harry asked curiously as he leaned in to get a closer look.

"I don't know, just a bit of blank parchment." She said with a shrug, setting it down beside her plate.

"Weird. Why would someone send you blank parchment?" he asked curiously.

"I have no idea. It's probably Malfoy's idea of a joke." Hermione said bitterly, and she glanced over towards the Slytherin table. She furrowed her brows when she saw that Malfoy seemed engrossed in conversation with Astoria Greengrass. Surely if he had sent it as a joke, he would have been watching for her reaction? Her eyes continued along the table, and she sucked in a breath when they met the dark gaze of the Head boy, Tom Riddle, before he quickly looked away.

Tom Riddle was as beautiful as he was cruel; he had dark hair and eyes, perfect cheekbones, full lips, and a jawline for days. She had learned quickly though, after he had transferred from Durmstrang in their fourth year, that behind that pretty face lurked a cold-hearted snake. She took pity on the witches who seemed to fall for his charms only to be cast aside like yesterday's prophet, or outright ignored as they made their interest known. Unfortunately being Head Girl meant that she had to share a dormitory with him.

Realizing she was going to be late, she quickly shoved the blank parchment into her bag, and finished her tea before heading off to her first class of the day.

ooOo0oOoo

Finally having a free period, Hermione headed straight for her usual table in the back of the library so that she could get a head start on her Arithmancy paper. Thankfully, the library was quiet, and she began pulling her things out of her bag when the small scroll she received that morning fell out on to the table in front of her. As she unrolled it, her eyes widened as they scanned the neat penmanship and read the words written in black ink:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee (1)

Shakespeare's Sonnet 18.

She looked around quickly, noting that the library was nearly empty. Falling back on her first instinct, she crumpled the parchment in her fist, certain that it had been part of a cruel prank, and was about to toss it in the waste bin when she thought better of it, and opened it again.

The more she thought about it, the more peculiar it seemed; Shakespeare was a muggle poet, and certainly not one she would expect a pureblood playing a joke on her would know of. She flat out refused however, to believe this could be anything other than a prank. She sighed, shoving the parchment back into her bag, and got to work on her Arithmancy paper.

An hour later, after finishing up her assignment, she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled out the piece of parchment once more. She furrowed her brows when she saw that it was once again completely blank, as if the Sonnet had never been there at all.

She picked up her quill and dipped it in her inkpot before lowering it to the page

Hello?

Before her eyes, the word seemed to melt into the parchment, and she flipped it over to see that the ink hadn't bled through.

Hello Hermione.

She dropped the quill quickly as if it had burnt her, and she looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching her. Just as before, the library remained deserted.

Who is this?, she wrote quickly, realizing that there must be some sort of communication enchantment on the parchment. Whoever it was writing to her, had definitely intended it for her.

Someone you know, but that's all I'll say for now.

Hermione frowned. That could be literally anyone at Hogwarts.

Why are you writing to me? She wrote, in frustration, wanting to know if this was indeed some sort of a joke

Because I can't stop thinking about how your lips would feel against mine; how your legs would feel wrapped around my waist…

Her mouth dropped open as she blushed to the roots of her hair. Had someone really just written that? Despite her skepticism, her curiosity was piqued. She tried to mentally make a list of all the muggleborn students in the school, thinking about who this mysterious stranger could possibly be.

Before she could formulate a response, the words disappeared to be replaced with new ones

The way you feather the tip of your quill across your lips when you're deep in thought, drives me crazy.

She quickly pulled her quill away from her mouth when she realized she had just been doing that exact thing.

Can you see me right now?

She glanced around again, but saw no sign of anyone watching her.

No, though I watch you often enough to know your habits.

So she had a stalker, then. Brilliant. Feeling rather paranoid, she quickly packed up her things and made her way back to the Great Hall for lunch. At least there, she had Harry and Ron watching her back.

ooOo0oOoo

"Hermione, I was just telling Ron about the parchment." Harry said as she slipped into the seat across from him, next to Ron.

"It's um…it's not blank." She said looking equally perplexed and mortified when she thought of the things it had revealed to her.

"No? What'd it say? Who was it from?" Harry asked before taking a bite of his lunch.

"Oh…uh…it's not really important, but I think I have a stalker." Hermione admitted before picking up a cucumber sandwich and taking a bite.

Ron's eyebrows raised at this.

"You?"

Hermione turned to glare at him, annoyed that he was implying that no one could ever be that interested in her "Yes, Ronald, Me. Someone is stalking me. Did I stutter?"

"Well, I just meant –"

"I know what you meant. Who could ever think of Hermione like that? Well guess what? Someone does." She snapped before she grabbed her bag and stormed from the hall back towards the Head's dorm. Thankfully, she had her own room, and she could have a good cry in private.

She burst through the door to the common room and stopped in her tracks when she saw Tom sitting on the couch reading.

"Granger?"

"Leave off, Riddle" she snapped, rushing past him into the safety of her bedroom. She sat heavily on her bed and took a deep breath. Honestly, Ron had been an arse to her for years, which is why she was angry with herself for letting his words affect her so easily. It brought her right back to that moment in first year when she overheard him saying to Harry, 'It's no wonder she hasn't got any friends'

She swiped the tear from her cheek angrily as she stood up and decided that what she really needed was a long hot soak in the bath to calm down. She cast a quick tempus charm to make sure she had plenty of time before she was expected to make an appearance at the Valentine's party, and grabbed a fluffy towel, and her shampoo, shrinking them down so they would fit neatly in the pocket of her school robe.

She swept out of the head's dorm relieved that Riddle was no longer there, and made her way quickly to the fifth floor.

She pushed open the heavy wooden door, and walked inside, admiring the beauty of the cavernous room; before she knew about magic, she never could have imagined a bath like this. The late afternoon sun was filtering in through the stained glass window, bathing the room in a rainbow of color. Remember why she was here, she made her way quickly back to the door and warded it, ensuring that she wouldn't be disturbed.

She was somewhat surprised to see that the bath was already filled with steaming water and luxurious bubbles, but she supposed that like the staircases, the bath must've known she was coming, and prepared itself especially for her.

She slipped off her outer school robe, hanging it on a hook, and kicked off her shoes as her fingers loosened her Gryffindor tie, and then made their way to the buttons of her school blouse. She slipped the fabric over her shoulders, and then reached back to unclasp her bra with a small sigh of contentment. Her nipples pebbled as soon as they were exposed to the cool air, and she shivered. She let her skirt fall to the floor, followed quickly by her knickers, as she stepped toward the bath.

She stepped her foot into the water, and practically purred at the feeling of warmth against her toes, moving steadily deeper until she was able to sink down into the scented water. She submerged herself completely before settling herself on a tiled seat on the far side of the bath, and allowed her eyes to drift closed as she breathed in the calming scent of the water.

Her eyes snapped open a moment later when she heard the unmistakable sound of a splash.

"Well, this is awkward…" Tom chuckled as he sat on the opposite side of the bath, running a hand through his already wet hair.

"Riddle! What do you think you're doing!" Hermione shrieked as she awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover herself, through she was sure he had already gotten an eyeful anyway.

He scoffed at her accusatory tone, "Having a bath, what does it look like? I might ask you the same question!" he shot back, arching an eyebrow at her expectantly.

"The door was open, haven't you ever heard of a locking charm?!" she shouted back. The thought of moving was out of the question, considering she was currently completely naked.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, "Besides, I was here first, so I'm not leaving."

Hermione stared shamelessly at his pale chest before quickly looking down at herself in mortification. If she stood up, he would see everything.

"Turn around." She ordered.

He smirked, "No."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she repeated his words incredulously, "No?!"

"No. I'm quite comfortable where I am, thank you." He said with a hint of amusement, clearly at her expense.

"Well, I'm not leaving unless you turn around." She spat defiantly.

"Suit yourself." He sighed and he let his head fall back against the wall with a contented sigh, as if he wasn't bothered one bit about the fact that they were both naked in a bath together.

"What are you doing?!" She said in a panicked squeak.

"I told you, I'm taking a bath."

"What? No! We can't both be in here! It's…it's…" she stammered, trying to remember of all the reasons why being naked and wet with Tom Riddle was a bad idea.

"Kinky?" he chuckled.

She splashed water at him, and inhaled sharply in mock outrage at the suggestion, "Indecent! This is how rumors start you know!"

He arched an eyebrow at her, "Oh? And what do you suppose the rumors would say? That I fucked you in the prefect's bath? That I made you come against the cold tiles, and on Valentine's day, no less?"

She flushed a deep shade of red at his words, unable to speak, as she stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Cat got your tongue, Hermione?" he chuckled knowingly.

"All boys think about is sex!" She finally managed to say as she pressed her thighs together beneath the water, hoping he wouldn't be able to see the effect he was having on her.

He chuckled darkly then, and it flowed over her like warm honey.

"So long as men can breathe or eyes can see." He said slowly watching her closely for her reaction.

Her eyes widened in recognition. Sonnet 18…

"It was you…" she whispered, shocked that it could possibly be him.

"Yes." He answered simply, moving toward her slowly through the scented water.

"But it was a joke…right?" She said uncertainly, looking up at him in shock as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek, too stunned to say anything more.

His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, and his head dipped lower towards hers, "Not to me".

She moaned into his mouth when his lips crashed into hers, and her hands threaded into his wet hair. She had imagined running her hands through it so many times, and despite the alarm bells going off in her head, she kissed him back.

"I'm not going to pine for you", she breathed as his lips broke away from hers to leave a trail of hot open mouthed kisses along her throat.

"I know. That's what makes you so irresistible to me." He muttered between kisses as he pulled her closer.

"What do you want from me, Tom?" she whispered, pulling his face back up to hers so that she could meet his eyes.

"I want to watch you come apart in my arms. I want it to be my name on your lips when you get yourself off at night…"

She bit down on her bottom lip in pleasure when he rocked his hips forward into hers, and she felt his arousal against her thigh.

"Tell me you want this too…" he whispered, his voice thick with need.

Too turned on to speak, she nodded quickly, and before she knew what was happening, he lifted her slightly so that she was pressed between him and the side of the bath, with her legs coming up to wrap around his waist.

She inhaled sharply when she felt his cock move against her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her whole body, and she pressed her heels into his backside to bring him closer.

"More…" she moaned, clutching his shoulders so tightly, she was sure she would leave marks.

"As my lady commands" he breathed, capturing her lip between his teeth and giving it a nip.

He angled his hips just enough to slide into her welcoming heat, as she cried out, shuddering against him.

"You feel so perfect like you were made for me, fuck…" he groaned as he slammed into her, marveling at how she met him thrust for thrust. His hand moved down to rub her clit as he fucked her hard, knowing that it wouldn't take long for her to come like this. At this angle, he was deep inside of her, and he was sure she could feel every inch of him as he thrust into her over and over again.

"Come for me, Hermione…" he whispered against her jaw as he felt her start to tense.

"Gods, Don't stop!" she managed to gasp before her eyes slipped shut and she cried out his name as she fell into oblivion.

When she came back to herself, he was panting heavily as he pressed his forehead against hers with a satisfied smile on his face.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked as he leaned down to brush his lips against hers.

"I'm thinking Valentine's Day isn't so terrible after all." Hermione laughed, pulling him down into another kiss.

(1) - This is William Shakespeare's Sonnet 18