A/N: I want to remind you that the M rating is not for appearance. There are no triggers, but adult readers only please as there will be mentions of sexual themes.

Rescuing the Senior

by Ydream08

Chapter 3

That week, Friday evening came too early. To Hermione's disappointment, the Riddles had sent a Ford on her doorstep. The henchman didn't take no for an answer. Hermione decided to ignore his presence, but that only lasted for an hour as she felt that her actions were cowardly and childish. Not to mention she pitied the henchmen for having him wait so long. Hermione Granger wasn't cruel.

In the end, she trusted baby Tom with Olly and quickly got ready.

She ended up wearing an off-shoulder long sleeved dress which swept the ground, its crimson colour praising Hermione's Gryffindor side. She finished the look with golden earrings while putting her hair up with a loose bun.

The henchman sighed in relief at the sight of her and rushed to her side to aid her climbing in the car. Having made the henchman happy, Hermione was half-way content with her decision to come.

The ride was short, the Gaunt's cottage and the Riddle's manor were closer than Hermione had realized. Having seen the Malfoy Manor, the Riddle's property didn't surprise Hermione, but she still was awed by the beauty of it. Before she could take in more of the house, the henchman hurried her to the door and she was immediately welcomed into the house. Apparently coming an hour late was not the politest thing for the invited to do.

Go figure.

When Hermione entered the ballroom where cocktail tables were scattered around, she counted twenty or so people in the room. Heads turned to her direction at her entrance and she felt a few disturbing glances on herself, it didn't help that she saw no familiar faces.

Just at that thought she noticed a head of neatly combed black hair. His dark blue eyes met with hers and Hermione returned his smile, surprisingly thankful that he wasn't acting like he didn't know her.

To Hermione's surprise, Riddle Sr. took long strides towards her in a heart beat, his bright smile on those lovely lips getting even wider. Lovely? Hermione guessed her judgement was clouded by their shared kiss from the other day.

"Finally!" he exclaimed and in the blink of an eye, Hermione's hand rested in the crook of his arm. "My dear Mother was asking about you, since I took the liberty of inviting you at the last minute," Riddle said. His shark grin made Hermione's face heat up, she also remembered his obvious intentions for tonight. She shouldn't have kissed him that time, giving him wild ideas.

Before Hermione could reply him, Riddle Sr. took her to where he'd just vacated, and introduced her to his family and a few associates.

She was silent for the most of the night, hanging in Riddle Sr.'s arm like a nice accessory. Hermione hated it. Being honest, that wasn't Riddle Sr.'s fault, though. He had even urged her to talk at the start of the evening whenever they entered new circles, especially asking her opinion once he felt like she was drifting into boredom. Hermione requested him politely to quit his antics, saying that she was indeed comfortable with observing. She couldn't speak her mind about the current politics with Riddle and the other guests anyway, afraid that she would slip a piece of information that was yet to happen. The females were discussing safer topics like fashion and charities, but Hermione didn't feel interested enough to contribute. In the end, her wandering mind pondered only on how tall Riddle was up close, and how kind he was in his own habitat. Vanished had the man Hermione had seen cursing back at the Leaky Cauldron, and here was a gentlemen capable of carrying out an intellectually above-average conversation. There was only one time that he had looked as though he would kill his father -that trait could be genetic, Hermione thought simultaneously- and that was when the old man had delved into the topic of his son's marriage prospects. If Riddle Sr. had been a wizard, his magic would have bursted out and knocked down the whole house at the mention of that woman, Cecilia.

Hermione had acted as though she hadn't noticed how Riddle Sr. rudely interjected his father and changed the topic of discussion.

Some time after that incidence, Riddle directed Hermione to dining room where everybody got seated and the evening continued over wine and food.

Hermione wasn't exactly complaining. Sitting next to Riddle wasn't that mundane. He would accidentally brush his arm to her own, bump his feet to hers under the table and occasionally ask if she wanted refreshment for her wine.

If it weren't for the wine, Hermione doubted she could play along with the embodiment of arrogance sitting next to her.

Tom Riddle Sr. divided his attention to three: his father, mother and her. He would be attentive to any questions his mother sent his way while actively discussing politics with his father. Hermione didn't know how Riddle did it, but all the while he attended to his parents, he would sneak glances at her, smile and ask for her attention full time. His social skills tired even her.

And she didn't understand why he was so keen on tiring her.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat because of that last thought- understanding it in a different way within seconds. She found herself gulping down the wine. Riddle had cocked an eyebrow at her questioningly but she deliberately didn't lock her gaze with his. She didn't want to talk to him.

"So, Mrs. Granger, is it? I was wondering what you were to Gaunts-"

"Ms. Granger, sir. I've never married," Hermione corrected the elder Riddle. She had been surprised to be addressed by him, but she quickly scolded her expression to one of indifference. "I'm Morfin and Merope's cousin, however distant."

"Huh. Never married? But how about your boy-" Mr. Riddle was saying, but before he could utter another sentence, Hermione murmured a Confundus charm at him, and covered it by coughing. She then sipped from her wine as the man asked: "Ummm, what-what exactly was I saying?"

"You were saying how such a lovely woman as Hermione could be the cousin of the Gaunts," Tom offered his father, shockingly coming to Hermione's aid.

With his son's lead, Mr. Riddle continued, "Yes, indeed. You are nothing like that family. I guess that's why you came, to help them. I'm afraid the cousin has arrived late, sweetling, the Gaunts are scattered. Broken!"

For the following ten minutes Mr. Riddle gave a trivia of the ancient family with only adjectives such as crazy, poor, unstable and filthy.

Hermione tuned out the elder Riddle, leaving him to his cruel way of boasting his richness. She turned to look at Tom Riddle Sr.. He was leaning to the back of his chair, playing with his wine glass while his attentions were solely on her. Upon realizing this, a shiver went down her spine.

Hermione Granger didn't understand what she had done to come into Riddle Sr.'s radar.

She felt herself the last kind of woman he would be attracted to. Yet that seemed to have been the case.

She was pretty in a different way- not every male's cup of tea. She was a bit on the shorter side, not the first choice of tall people like Riddle. She had a considerable fortune also thanks to her Order of Merlin, first class. However, hearing from the elder Riddle's chats from this evening, she doubted a person who owned the whole damn valley, including the village Little Hangleton, would be after her money.

Of course, there was the bit where Hermione had saved him from living a lie. But if falling in love had a condition of 'save the other person's life', the whole Britain should have fallen in love with her and married her already.

And by any chance all Riddle wished was to get in her knickers, then he had a new surprise coming for him. Wasn't Cecilia for that business, anyway?

Thinking about the woman and how Riddle Sr. had blown a fuse at the mention of her name, Hermione decided that having a roll with him was in order.

"Where is your sweetheart? Wait, what was her name… oh, right, Cecilia?" Hermione mocked Riddle in a quiet tone that wouldn't attract the attention of the other occupants of the table.

Riddle rolled his eyes. "You know how to ruin a mood."

"You know how to ruin a lovely Friday evening," Hermione bit back, secretly enjoying the banter while spitting her annoyance. She only met with the amused eyes of Tom Riddle.

"I'll make up for it," he said. He leaned toward her ever so slightly that their proximity couldn't be considered intimate but wasn't so innocent after all. He whispered, "Promise."

Hermione raised her brows at that. "Isn't that what Cecilia is for? If you need to have a woman in your bed that bad then go to her. I won't miss you, promise."

Tom Riddle barked a laughter so joyous that Hermione was startled. The whole table stared at them. Hermione couldn't help but blush, she didn't like being the center of attention.

"Ms. Granger, you have one interesting sense of humour!" he commented to clear the shocked air. However, the thin fingers that grabbed her upper thigh under the table told another story. She wasn't even sure when his hand had moved there, it could have been welcome if it wasn't evident that he was less than pleased to have heard that last comment.

That moment Hermione wanted to get out of there. She didn't want to play Riddle Sr.'s games, she was tired of this whole mess and the fact that he was not forth coming with his intentions agitated her to no end.

She wanted to be home.

However, knowing that going back to her own timeline was not an option, Hermione wished for the alternative. She would go to Gaunt's Cottage, cuddle her Tom and fall asleep surrounded with his milk-like scent. Baby Tom would play with her curls and giggle at her just before sleep, making Hermione the happiest person alive for that moment.

Yes, she was going to leave. No need to make herself miserable. As it was, she wanted to cry. Or yell. Or heck, do both!

That's why she pushed her chair aside and excused herself. Tom Riddle rose to his feet with her and announced that he would escort her to see her safely home. Hermione was angry with him, but couldn't get herself to protest to an argument she was sure to lose.

The ride back to her house was silent but the atmosphere between the two of them was so thick with tension that it was nearly palpable. Hermione didn't know what was Riddle Sr.'s problem but he looked angry at her. Look at the chances, his feeling was mutual! It was as though they couldn't decide whether to kill each or fuck the daylights out of each other.

When they stood at the main doors of the cottage and Tom Riddle dipped his head, they decided to go with the latter.

Kissing him gave her a definite feeling of drowning, Hermione decided. She didn't dare to unlock herself from his lips to breathe; she didn't want to spend those precious seconds away from him. But his flesh on hers reminded Hermione of the reasons she hated him too. How he treated Merope, how he cursed his unborn child or how he teased her shamelessly...

She bit ferociously to his bottom lip, drawing blood. He winced but the moment she released him, he pressed his lips back to hers, forcing her to taste the blood she had drawn from him.

Own for your choices, his actions yelled and that made Hermione even more furious. How dare he say to suck up your choices? It wasn't as though she wasn't!

She Disapparated them to a guest's bedroom. If Tom Riddle Sr. was nauseated because of the magic, he didn't let on. Not that Hermione would care. She grabbed his shirt and ripped the first few buttons open, but her eager hands didn't stop there. One of her hands snaked around his neck to grab a hold of his silky black hair at the back of his head, and her other hand disappeared in the back of his shirt, her nails digging into his flesh.

Hermione hadn't realized that Riddle had grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist as Hermione had reached for his hair. That had helped her hold on to him as she pleased, but she didn't thank him.

She wouldn't thank him. He was the man who had left a baby all alone, never once caring what would become of his own son! He was the one who had shamelessly returned to his life, playing a lie with rich snobs, no remorse attached!

Then he came waltzing to their garden, ordered Hermione to come to dinner, intending to... what? Make her his?

She wanted to pluck every last strand of his perfect silky hair. He had left her alone in this! The baby was born whether Riddle Sr. had wanted it or not, and Hermione had been the only one to be there for it. Taking care of baby Tom has been hard, harder than Hermione could have guessed. Where had Tom Riddle been? Why hadn't he contacted?

Hermione could guess that Tom Riddle hadn't been living the best of his days ever since breaking free from that love potion. She also knew that she wouldn't be able to empathize with what he'd been through even if she desperately tried -he had been raped while being forced to comply by a potion that stripped him from his free will, for Godric's sake-, so Hermione was struggling to give him a choice (their hurtful arguments aside).

Had she had a choice?

At some point Hermione guessed she had had, but this didn't change the fact that she was alone shouldering it. Where was Harry? Ron? Ginny? Luna? Mrs. Weasley?

Hermione had no one. But it didn't have to be this way...

If only Riddle Sr. were to agree to be there for the baby!

Hermione had asked that question back at the Leaky Cauldron at least twice, getting rejected by Riddle Sr. Why would the arrogant git accept it now?

Her anger flared at the thought and Hermione pulled on Riddle's hair tighter, kissing him even more forceful. Kissing him cleared away her mind, Hermione liked that feeling. She liked the feeling of his lips on hers.

While they kissed, the more Hermione pulled his hair however, the more the man groaned and forced Hermione's head to stay close to his. His free hand supported her backside, but she felt his annoyance rise as he couldn't explore her skin as Hermione did his own. His shirt was already on the floor, and Hermione guessed that that meant one point went to her. Hermione Granger always kept track of scores.

She was winning.

That thought made her grin to his lips. Her amusement only triggered a much more feral growl from the man, and the next moment Hermione found her back on the soft mattress. The few seconds Hermione felt the cold air licking her flaring limbs thanks to Tom vacating his place between her legs, she Accio'd her wand and casted both silencing and locking charms on the door. She was done long before she heard the unbuckling of a belt and the sound of trousers hitting the floor.

Hermione didn't get to have the chance to take in Tom's appearance as his face crowded her vision immediately. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were no longer dark blue- they were simply black. A flash of contentment passed in his lustful gaze before his lips crashed down to hers.

Hermione raised her hands to grab either side of his face but she felt her hands delicately removed from his self. The way his tongue swept through her mouth cleared any thoughts in her mind, so she could only register that her arms rested above her head, held down by one hand on her wrists, when Tom broke the kiss for air.

Tom put his forehead against her, and they listened to each other's breathing while Tom's fingers ghosted over her bare skin on the inside of her thighs.

"You're a beautiful creature, angel," Tom whispered to her. Hermione's breath caught at the compliment and she craned her head up to catch his lips.

"Na-huh," Tom clicked his tongue, a smirk playing at his lips. "I can't seem to free you of this pretty dress. You are at fault that you didn't get rid of it before landing on the bed, so not-kissing is your punishment."

"You were the one to push me to the mattress. I'd say you are paying for your impatience," Hermione snarled, but when his nose prickled her cheek, then went down to the crock of her neck, she knew she was going to give in.

Hermione pressed her lips together, she wasn't going to moan regardless of the many kisses and nips Tom left on the line of her neck. Biting, tugging, licking… Hermione couldn't think anything but his lips on her neck for what felt like forever so she mewled in desperation for him to stop.

To her surprise Tom did.

"What? I couldn't hear you, lovely," he teased her.

Hermione glared at him but dropped her gaze to his lips. She whispered, "Kiss me."

"No ordering around," Tom warned her and continued, "I said the dress is getting in the way-"

Hermione cut his sentence by masterfully vanishing her dress with a silent and wandless spell. She wasn't the brightest witch of her age for nothing.

Tom smirked.

"Kiss me, now," Hermione needn't repeat herself as such, because Tom had already taken her breath away with a searing kiss.

Hermione Granger didn't remember much from then on. She was sure it wasn't because of the wine; she was drunk because of the man giving her such pleasures. She remembered Tom pistoning in and out of her while she chanted his name. She remembered him biting down her neck to the point that she shuddered with pleasurable pain. She remembered that he came with her name on his lips.

But most importantly -although the details were blurry- Hermione remembered well that they repeated this till the first rays of the sun.

Having arrived at his house, Tom Riddle Sr. had not anticipated facing the wrath of his parents. He was questioned, scolded, ridiculed for his scandal of running away with the poor and hideous maid who, after their running away to elope, had been quickly outed by the town's people as Merope Gaunt.

That first week of his arrival had been suffocating. His father had sealed this topic with one last question to his mother's dismay: "Is there a child?"

Riddle Sr. had fallen silent, not able to answer. At his reaction, his father had grunted but given him a court nod.

The next day Mrs. Riddle had explained in his father's words how their honor as a respectable family was on the line, and he had to fix this by agreeing to a proper marriage. Riddle Sr. hadn't been able muster enough strength to argue. His silence hadn't been acceptance, however his parents chose to interpret it exactly as that.

Every moment he shared with Cecilia that day onwards had been a nightmare. The woman used to be desperate to maintain his attentions, as he was known to have not only various but numerous tastes. That conversation with his mother had been a turning point for the young blond woman, Cecilia had from then on been more demanding and confident.

Tom blamed his mother for that; she and her weak resilience towards his father's wishes had irrevocably altered his life.

After what he had been through, the last thing Tom wanted was intimacy with another woman, be it physically or mentally. It took him months to recall his days with that freak and not feel the world caving in on itself. As if it was not enough that the memories that were carved into his skull, Riddle Sr. abhorred those feelings attached to them. He had never loved that bitch. Never had he worshipped her, adored her, or remotely liked her, although his memories told him otherwise.

Every fucking detail was so vivid that even a second spent pondering was enough to flare his inextinguishable anger.

If it were not for the curly haired young woman who had saved him -his angel- he would have been deliriously in love with that Gaunt whore still.

His angel, so beautiful yet fierce...

He hadn't been a gentlemen to her like she deserved. He hadn't been thinking at the time, his frustration making him talk. He had simply lost himself, unable express his gratitude.

Not a single day passed in which he stopped thinking about those caramel eyes staring at him with helplessness so great that he desperately reached out for his angel in his dreams. How much he wished to see her again! He would get to know her, woo her, and entrance her, so that he could have her attentions on him once again. She had been so kind to him. She had cared for him, expecting nothing in return! She had only thought about him as she had stood up for him. His angel had been so brave and selfless, putting him before her.

How he had deserved such behavior from her, Riddle could not fathom.

Before waking up to the reality of witchcraft, if anybody asked, he would have said he deserved everything because he was him. Women loved his money and looks, so he deserved to be pampered. He was Tom Riddle, heir to the fortune of Mr. Riddle, and he grew up thinking he deserved everything.

However, deserving Hermione Granger's attention and care because he was him had been something entirely different.

Riddle Sr. had been dejected every day knowing that it was near impossible to come across his angel again. He thought about her whenever his memories of being bewitched overwhelmed him, holding onto whatever he recalled from her -her crazy hair, smooth cheeks as he brushed away her tears, her laughter however cruel and mocking it had been during the time- and he somehow managed to pull through each day.

This was Riddle Sr.'s new reality. He struggled not to feel alien in his own skin, warred with foreign yet intimate memories invading his person and morosely waited for his marriage with Cecilia Hollins.

Roughly half a year had passed, Riddle Sr. had even picked up his old hobbies such as horse riding to fill his aimless days, when he heard of the oddest rumor. The morning he had sneaked into the kitchen barely earlier than the staff -he had been having troubles sleeping for months- he had eavesdropped on a conversation thanks to loitering around snacking. The maids fiercely gossiped about a new woman in town, who resided in the Gaunt's trash house. One of them said that the woman was a banker, here to collect the house now that it was empty, its residents dead and deep in debt. The other maid disagreed saying she had heard from elsewhere that the woman was a rich single lady from another town, having bought the land of those Gaunts.

Riddle Sr. hadn't given much thought to the gossip, only wondering what had happened to the last two residents of the house. He knew for sure that they weren't dead, Marvolo and Morfin Gaunt's deaths wouldn't have gone unnoticed by the town. Yet the family had been silent like a ghost for some time now. Not that Riddle Sr. would know.

He dismissed the thoughts, sneering in distaste to have wasted his time on this.

Another month passed uneventfully thanks to his decision to avoid Cecilia. The absence of the bitch was heavenly, he would occasionally relent to horse riding with her but Riddle Sr. had consorted to a new habit of speeding up to have her lose his tracks. Everything aside, it was becoming harder to postpone the wedding, making Tom ever the most grateful for living each day as a bachelor. He missed his angel even more those days, because truth was that he wouldn't have been single if she had been in his reach.

Imagine his surprise and excitement one day upon hearing from those very same gossiping maids that the new woman in town also had a baby with her.

A young woman with a newborn, living in the Gaunt's house. Could it be..?

That wild speculation was his spark of hope in these dark days, and Riddle Sr. was desperate to try this flimsy chance. He wanted to see his angel, know that she was real, and not a figment of his imagination.

Riddle Sr. could only muster his courage by the time the dinner for his and Cecilia's nuptials was on the corner.

It had been a sunny May in noon. Riddle Sr. had ridden his horse evasively and fast in order to lose Cecilia. He knew that it was futile. However a moment alone with his angel would be enough.

He had to take his chance. Saying that he was infatuated with his angel and not visit her when she was possibly so close to him would be the biggest mistake of his life. He wouldn't do that. He had nothing to lose, his life was torturous as it was.

He had been right to suspect. It was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Her sun kissed skin glowed under the noon rays, her slender legs visible from her scandalous knee length sundress which revealed more than enough of her thighs. She was cross sitting, another reason for her revealing pose, and there was a baby in her lap, somewhat standing up thanks to her support.

She talked with the baby in a way that Riddle Sr. was positive the little guy wasn't understanding a word she said. His angel didn't seem to mind though. She changed her tone to 'baby-talking' whenever she saw the baby responding to her by opening his mouth or swinging his tiny hands in her hair. It could have sounded ridiculous to anyone else, but seeing his angel so merrily playing with the baby while she acted as though she was one herself, was utterly delectable for Riddle Sr. to watch.

Riddle Sr. dismounted from his horse so that he could join his angel. When he greeted Hermione, Tom hadn't been expecting to see her turn her face away and fall silent. He was aware of the hostility radiating off the woman, yet he couldn't fathom why...

When his angel continued to play with the baby, the reason hit him hard. The baby she was playing with...was his, wasn't it?

He felt the bile rising from his stomach as the memories shared with that retarded bitch rushed into his mind. He had been defiled! How blissfully unaware he was at the time! The worthless scum had poisoned him...

Growing sick of being haunted by these memories, Tom forced them out of his mind. He breathed heavily to contain himself, not wanting to surrender yet again and be trapped being the victim.

Afterwards, he shouldn't have opened his mouth before he was hundred percent sure that he was entirely in control of his emotions.

He helplessly watched as his angel's eyes lost their shine upon hearing his insult to the kid. He watched, unable to do anything to better it, as his angel warded herself from him.

He didn't let on his disappointment. He didn't let on his anger for screwing his chance.

He was overjoyed to have hidden those feelings as her pretty lips came crushing down on his. He was drunk in her taste, desperate to carry on kissing her even when she had pulled herself away. Perhaps he still had a chance?

When she righted herself, she told him that she wasn't interested. Her other lovers -gardeners as she claimed- took up her time. How the fuck could she have other men in her mind after kissing him like that? How could she have anyone else in mind while she was his? He would make her his. Fuck the gardeners!

She apparently does exactly that, a mocking side of Riddle Sr.'s brain retorted.

As if that was not enough, Hermione let the kid snuggle him. Riddle Sr. should have been the one there, trailing kisses on her delicate neck while inhaling her scent to his lungs!

Riddle Sr. cleared his throat, realizing that his anger was getting the better of himself. Jealousy had never suited him, and being jealous of a baby was ridiculous. It was his baby, anyway.

His baby.

The thought came down on him like a wave of cold water, extinguishing even the tiniest fire from his out-of-control feelings. His baby (Riddle Sr. would never associate that freak as the baby's mother; he rejected doing so) in his angel's arms, being cuddled by her as she mothered him...

Hermione Granger -his angel- already owned everything he had even if she was unaware: his money, his body, his mind, and his heart. She hadn't yet accepted him. However, Riddle Sr. realized now that Hermione had in fact accepted a small part of him -his child- and she looked perfectly content having the little guy.

If that was what she wanted, Riddle Sr. would oblige. For now.

He forced an invitation on her for the Friday's dinner. His angel had been silent, but he had other means to attain her presence. He first had to get rid of Cecilia, who had annoyed him further by ruining his conversion with Hermione.

That evening, returning to his house with Cecilia on his tow, Tom Riddle got involved in the greatest dispute he had ever had with his family. He called off the nuptial and watched in immense delight while the blond bitch crumbled down into a pool of tears, consoled by his own mother with rotten excuses that he was currently nuts.

The whole week Riddle Sr. didn't back down from his stance. Eventually his mother relented. She asked about the woman he had mentioned during their...disagreement as his mother put it, with whom Tom Riddle wanted to marry.

His father had known about Hermione too before she arrived to the dinner, not that it changed his decision of ignoring her most of the evening. Tom's mother, on the other hand, was delighted to see that his Hermione was indeed pretty. That red gown she had worn had been the talk of all the guests, gaining appreciative glances from every which way to Tom's utter disgust.

He wouldn't have minded of the admiration Hermione collected, if only she had declared herself his own!

Returning Hermione to her house, and getting the honor of discarding her gown however indirectly, had been his undoing.

Tom Riddle Sr. was in love with this woman. He loved his name on her lips, her arms caging him in, and especially he loved their perfect unison.

He was blessed to have found her.

"What do you want from me?" Hermione asked finally when she could get her wits back together. She had other questions as well but they had time. It was morning and Tom spooned her. The way he lazily kissed her exposed neck down to her shoulder while his free hand caressed her naked hip reassured her further that he was staying for a bit longer.

"Aside from similar nights like yesterday?" Tom teased her. His voice was hoarse just like hers because of newly waking up and a sore throat. They had screamed too much last night.

"Please. As if you could convince me to join you and Cecilia!" Hermione said. Tom stilled with his ministrations.

"There won't be Cecilia," Tom said with a finality that made Hermione think better than to force a fight with him.

"My question still stands," Hermione whispered. She was now unsure whether she wanted to hear the answer. It was not like the two of them had a romantic relationship. Hermione had to think of baby Tom first.

"I have baby Tom to think about," Hermione added before Riddle Sr. could say anything.

"The kid again," Riddle Sr. breathed out, but to Hermione's delight, he hadn't cursed the child. Yet.

If he dares, I swear to Merlin, I will cut him limb by limb…

He, then, added: "Just when I thought this was about us."

She ignored that last bit in favor of her sanity. She didn't want to think him falling for her. She wouldn't. Not yet.

"He is your son. I know that you didn't want to have him, but the fact is that he is born. He will grow to look exactly like you, like it or not," Hermione said firmly. "I don't know your intentions with me," Hermione added. She knew her mouth wasn't filtering what her brain randomly thought, but hell with it. She was a proud Gryffindor and saying her thoughts out loud was never a crime. "But no baby Tom means I'm out too."

Riddle's sudden tight grasp on her on hip made her gasp. "If it weren't for the kid you'd be only caring for me, angel…" he whispered in her ear. He was grinding to her backside, his hard member making itself known.

"I love how you care for me," he continued. "You helped me when no one did. It didn't take me long to realize that the daft innkeeper knew the situation as well. He didn't do anything. You did. You cared that I wasn't myself, that I was bewitched. You cared enough to bring me back home. You cared enough to talk to me about my child-"

Hermione felt the need to interrupt him. One of the reasons was that she had totally different reasons to doing the last two things he had mentioned. "Merope Gaunt loved you."

His hips stopped. Hermione hated to admit but she missed the friction immediately.

"She loved the me who was in love with her. I was never in love with her."

"I don't love you," Hermione whispered this time. It was true that the sex was more than nice, that she was attracted to him. But he was still the man who had turned his back on his child.

A small part of Hermione's brain protested again, as stubborn as herself: Wasn't he raped? He was fed love and lust potions repeatedly and his free-will on the act of making a baby was stolen from him. Wasn't it understandable that he wished to not see the child?

Hermione didn't doubt that Tom Riddle Sr. had been a heartless and ruthless arsehole towards Merope Gaunt because of her poverty, mental instability and obsession over him. But that didn't mean he deserved his fate. Wasn't that why she had saved him? Because it was the right thing to do?

Tom Riddle Sr. deserved better just as his son did. If he didn't want any association to baby Tom, Hermione could give him at least that. She would take baby Tom away, move out of Little Hangleton, and she would never contact Riddle Sr..

"But you don't hate me," Tom whispered to her ear, waking her out of her planning. That won a giggle from Hermione, making her forget her thoughts for a moment.

"Your standards are low, Riddle," Hermione teased him. She felt his lips tug upwards where they now rested on her bare shoulder.

"And you are attracted to me, to my dashing looks and pretty eyes…"

"...yeah well, don't give yourself too much credit," Hermione snorted. They stayed silent for minutes, Tom's arms snaking around her to get her close to him as much as physically possible.

Then he broke the silence with the most surprising statement Hermione had ever heard: "He will be our son."

Hermione was just about to say something or shriek in joy, but Tom's mumbling stopped her. He had hidden his face in her curls so his voice had sounded a bit muffled, but she heard what he said clearly nevertheless, and it broke her heart.

"I can't do it alone, angel- can't do it without you."

Hermione gasped. After gently squeezing Tom's hand, she wiggled in his arms to roll over. She wanted to see him, she wanted him to look her in the eye and repeat those sentences again.

"Say it again," Hermione demanded. Her fingers caressed his jaw and she urged him to speak up. However, the blue eyes that stared back at her were reserved and unwilling. His furrowed brows indicated that he was getting annoyed.

Hermione went with the first idea that popped in her head to ease his mind. She lurked in his arms even closer, placing her bare chest flush against his just before she reached to capture those lips that she had devoured hungrily over the course of last night.

She kissed him leisurely, as if promising him the time he needed to open up himself. He did eventually, unable to resist the playful nibbling, his lower lip swollen because of her undivided and enthusiastic attention. Finally, Hermione broke the kiss and looked at him with the widest puppy eyes she could manage, and whispered, "Please?"

There was a pause, but Hermione watched as Tom gave in.

"I'll raise the boy if you'll be there with me," Tom rephrased, an undertone of a question lying in his tone. His eyes were clouded with lust, and a twinkling Hermione hadn't noticed before mischievously winked at her. Also the smile on his kissed lips was twitching, not quite the widest smile he could have showed her.

Hermione, however, didn't think a second time about his rather odd behavior. She kissed him again, hard on his lips without deepening it, then her brightest smile cracked her face.

"Yes, of course, I'll be there for you and Tom," Hermione exclaimed. Truly happy that this time around Tom Marvolo Riddle would at least have one of his parents, that Tom Riddle Sr. was willing to step up for him. "He will need a loving father—I can't tell you how overjoyed I am that you-"

This time Tom cut Hermione's sentence, dipping his head to steal a sensual kiss from her. It did not only tingle her sore parts, but also left her aching for more. Yet, when Tom quickly moved away from her, he sat up straight in the bed.

"Then it's settled!" he declared, clapping his hands once. "I'll inform Mother that you agreed, and we can have the wedding in two weeks' time."

Only one word echoing in her ears, Hermione sat up after him.

"Wedding?" she shrieked, watching helplessly as Tom rushed around the room to get dressed.

"Yes, wedding," Tom agreed. He found his trousers and slipped in them without the need of his underthings. It hadn't been the easiest task Hermione observed, as the man's member was quite awake and hard. He didn't seem to mind. "Father won't be so pleased; he always wished a union between Cecilia and myself. Even now when I kicked the bitch out of our lives. He never gives up. Though, you could do that trick from last night! Remember how you confused father, as if he was charmed? That should work if he insists about Cecilia. He wouldn't understand right away, but he knows as well that I won't settle for anything less than the best. I'll change his mind about all that rich family crap, and once he gets to know you, and gets a taste of that witty humour of yours…"

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, wracking her brain to form a coherent sentence, but she found herself failing. At last she decided to take action and Accio'd clothes to dress herself.

Just when she put on her shorts that fell shy of the bottom hem of her shirt, Tom crossed to her in two long strides and caged her in his arms. One of his hands fell to her arse, and he cupped one cheek and pinched it. His devious smile reflecting the intentions of his restless hands.

"I'm blessed to have found you, angel," he said, then swallowed Hermione's gasp with a kiss so hot that her wetness was now impossible to ignore. "And to have captured your heart…"

Hermione was just about to protest to that last part, a stern expression crossing her face, however Tom's masterful hands had removed and two of his fingers were teasing her cunt. She shouldn't have dismissed wearing her knickers, not that thin lace could dissuade Tom Riddle Sr.. Hermione couldn't stop a mewl escaping her lips at Tom's ministration, but she lightly punched him in the chest—only way she could show her objection at the moment.

Tom's earthy laugh washed her ears, but Hermione gave herself into this masterful man nevertheless.

"I should perhaps fear you that you've done this to me without bewitching me," Tom teased her, his lips close to her outer ear, his hot breath tickling her. "What do you say, angel?"

Hermione warred with herself to not mutter a derivative of 'Fuck me' to the arrogant git in front of her, loving his slender hands very much at the moment.

"Ugh, you're unbelievable," Hermione managed to say at last.

Still, Tom's fingers kept playing with her and she found herself craving for that friction, not another protest leaving her lips.

Having noticed Hermione's surrender, Tom snaked an arm around her to lift her just enough while balancing her to the wall. Then he bit the junction of her right shoulder and neck, licking the sensitive skin afterwards to relieve Hermione of the abrupt pain. Knowing that it would leave yet another love bite on the petite woman, Tom Riddle Sr. smiled.

Listening to the her panting and incoherent sentences, which mostly contained his name and the name of some other being – Godric, with who he wasn't familiar, Tom unbuckled his pants again and entered her in one deep thrust.

"TOM!" Hermione shrieked, not expecting the intrusion amidst her climax. The cold pleasurable waves quickly left in their wake a blazing need, and Hermione found herself reviving her numbing arms to hold onto Tom again. She desperately wanted him to move, but instead Tom trailed wet kisses wherever he could find, giving time Hermione to adjust herself as well as beg him for her release.

"Please, Tom," Hermione mewled, clutching the hair at his nape for better emphasis. She could be desperate, but she was bordering on frustrated.

Tom chuckled, then kissed her on the lips, not wasting time to invade her mouth and taste her thoroughly. At that distraction, Hermione was again dumbfounded when she was vacated and filled to the hilt.

"Harder…fuck me…harder!" Hermione kept on repeating, and if Tom was surprised by her crass speech, especially for a lady in the 1920's, he didn't say anything. Hermione, while closing her eyes to the feel of him was deaf to a whole different chant pouring out of Tom's lips: "Yes, lovely! You're amazing. You feel so right, filled with me, clutching me so wildly. Yes, Hermione, love, yes, I will. My sweet angel, come, come for me!"

Hermione's shriek, indicating her release was immediately followed by a grunt from Tom, both were spent as they slowly slid down the wall to sit on the floor, still united.

Tom's arms relaxed and he let go of her so slowly that she wasn't sure whether to yell at him to let go already or to hold her again tightly. He kissed her on the forehead, not eager to wholly separate himself from her yet.

"How did I get myself into this?" Hermione muttered under her breath, not able to wrap her overachieving mind around this. She was satiated, happy at where she was in Tom's embrace, but still it was unbelievable. Her hands mindlessly caressed his chest while she thought about this.

Seeing Hermione deep in thought, Tom didn't lose time to answer her.

"You accepted my proposal to wed—"

"What proposal? No form of 'Will you marry me' came out of your mouth!" Hermione objected, gathering her wits quicker than a breath.

"And you were the one to say either the kid with you or not you at all," Tom countered Hermione who had rudely interjected his statement. Hermione noted how quick his change of sweet father-material to arrogant schemer was for future reference, but she couldn't actually blame him for his façade. Men in general hated to show any form of weakness. Also, Hermione had given that 'us or nothing' predicament herself.

Thinking that a marriage with Tom Riddle Sr. wouldn't be a total nightmare –not to forget that the sex was spectacular—Hermione found herself weighing down the options. Bringing up Tom Riddle Jr. on her own while possibly struggling with his deranged relatives, also there was the little problem of her not belonging to this time at all; and there was the other option of marrying Tom Sr., giving Tom Jr. a healthy family life while she herself could have a brand new beginning in this new era.

In the end the deciding factor was the squeeze in her heart whenever Tom Riddle Sr.'s dark blue eyes landed on her, the hungry way he devoured her form and the hopeful glint to them as they eyed each other.

Tom Riddle Sr. was a twisted man with flaws, however he deserved a second chance. The reason Hermione wasn't Obliviating the man this very moment was also due to Hermione's admiration of seeing him struggle for this chance.

Tom Riddle himself had sought her out when she resided in Little Hangleton. Although she had known young Tom's father was living in the same town, Hermione hadn't given Riddle Sr. that second chance by insisting him to take in his son. Furthermore, Tom Riddle Sr. had offered his hand for his son to grip when he had sat down next to Hermione last week; he was the one who kept the contact regardless of…ahem…distractions. Tom Riddle Sr. had constantly asked for her attention back at the dinner, not the other way around. He was the one to always struggle to have that second chance.

Now, he was dedicated to win her heart, it seemed.

And, interestingly enough, Hermione felt herself already losing.

Hermione had asked at one point to Tom whether he wanted her to Obliviate him, erasing his memories of Merope Gaunt. He had fallen silent and hadn't replied her for three whole days. In the end, he said that he didn't want to forget any event that led him to unite with Hermione. Ever since, they lived as a happy couple...more like almost happy.

"No one will call either of us 'Tommy'!" Tom Riddle Sr. snapped. This was the hottest discussion since Riddle Sr. realized his son replied to his wife whenever she called "Tom!" regardless of it being not addressed to him.

The married couple of three months were in their room, lying in bed. It was still early in the morning, so Tom Jr. was currently sound asleep, making the hours most appropriate for discussions.

"I'm not going to call him Marvolo," Hermione protested. "You must have met his grandfather. I haven't yet, but rumors are enough for me to know he is a horrible man. Not to mention that the name is outdated."

Tom Riddle huffed. "Tom is outdated as well," he countered but he knew that it was futile. His wife kissed him on the lips, a smile never vanishing from her beautiful face.

"You shouldn't have let Cecilia call you 'Tommy'. It wouldn't have left you with this trauma," Hermione teased her husband and got out from their bed to head off to the bathroom. She had to start the day sooner or later.

Tom groaned as she made her way to the bathroom.

She was brushing her teeth when the door was pushed open so abruptly that it made her shriek and her toothbrush to fall down in the frenzy.

"Tom Riddle, what do you think you are doing?!" she yelled at him after spitting the toothpaste to the sink.

"You are bleeding," Tom said. Hermione didn't understand what he was talking about. She hadn't spent time in the kitchen the past few days…

"I don't think I have a cut or something-"

"-No, don't be daft," he brushed her off which ticked her off. She crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow.

"Your monthly bleeding," Tom explained her and understanding dawned on Hermione.

"Sorry, did it appear on the bed sheets. I'll clean them-" Hermione started to say. She hated that she couldn't find good quality tampons in 1927.

"Why aren't you pregnant?" Tom cut in her rambling and this time Hermione Granger stared at his blue eyes while her mind couldn't form any coherent thoughts.

A minute passed where they didn't utter a word but stared into each other's eyes.

Then slowly Hermione asked: "Why should I be? I'm on potions."

This time it was Tom's turn to look at her with blank eyes. His thick brows furrowed when he finally made sense of what she had said.

"Are they some kind of-"

"-Contraceptive, yes," Hermione finished his sentence for him.

Tom dropped his gaze from her and cursed under his breath, then he left the bathroom. Hermione, ever the most dutiful and annoyed wife, followed him.

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione asked, but seeing anger flash in his eyes, she changed the question. "Did you want to have a baby?"

"YES!" Tom roared and startled Hermione, slightly because of his volume but mostly of his answer.

Well, bloody hell! How was she supposed to know that? Read his bloody mind?

She put aside the fact that she was a Legilimens, and focused solely on her husband's lack of sharing his 'plans'.

"How should I have known you wanted one?" Hermione shrieked.

"Why do you think we're shagging like rabbits?" Tom retorted.

"Oh, I don't know!" Hermione yelled this time, feeling her blood boil. "Because we want to? Because we're in love? Every damn reason aside from wanting a baby!"

Hermione's chest rose and fell, her furious gaze locked on Tom. She couldn't believe how daft he was! This wasn't how married people decided things!

Hermione stopped seeing red after some time, then realized that Tom bloody Riddle only blinked at her, his lips were pursed as if he'd swallowed something he wasn't expecting.

"Are you in love with me?" Tom asked, his voice merely above whisper.

Hermione felt her cheeks heating, so she countered with something else.

"Do you want a baby with me?"

They both answered when the silence became too much to bear: "YES!"

Before Hermione knew better, Tom's lips were on hers and his tongue down her throat. Well, she wasn't complaining.

He broke apart to tell her, "We're not naming it Tom."

Hermione smiled to his lips. "Fine, but I'm not calling Tom, Marvolo."

He kissed her again. "We'll think of something. And you taste like toothpaste, you know that?"

Hermione smacked his arm. "I wonder why."

In a smooth movement, Hermione was being carried bridal style and not much later, she was on the mattress.

"Tom, I'm on my period!" Hermione yelled playfully.

"Doesn't mean we can't have fun," Tom replied. "When will that potion of yours lose effect, darling?"

Before Hermione could answer him, she was lost in the feel of his lips.

Tom Marvolo Riddle took a last look at himself in the full length mirror, making sure his new dark green formal robes were perfect for the evening's announcement. He wished his blackest hair from his youth to finish the touch, but alas, growing age left him with little choice.

However, he would be reborn after his death, having mastered immortality through his research of Phoenixes enabling him just that.

Knowing that he would get an endless chance to observe his looks in every age endless times, Riddle didn't wail over such trivialities. Yet, at days such as these, he acknowledged the benefit of Horcruxes if done right.

Headmaster Riddle dismissed the thoughts and walked away from the mirror, at the turn of his steps, he Dissapparated.

Making a rather loud entrance, which only gave the slightest glimpse to his magical abilities, Headmaster Riddle cleared his throat, a charming smirk on his face.

His eyes saw fresh youth, brave and lively, cheering him at the sight of him. The children, ages varying from eleven to eighteen greeted their headmaster with such enthusiasm that Headmaster Riddle's pride in his students grew as if possible.

This was what he always wanted, or rather, needed: followers, underlings, trainees. His students.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, Headmaster and Founder of Amoiencia School of Sorcery, the Great High Warlock of Britain and Heir to the Great Salazar Slytherin.

The old wizard was very much alive, his past pseudonym Lord Voldemort buried with his mother Hermione Riddle and his future unending as well as bright due to his limitless knowledge of magic light and dark.

The man cleared his throat once again, and taking a side glance at their guests, he started to speak.

"Gathering at yet another Triwizard Tournament, I'm proud that the honour for hosting such a glorious event in Britain has been bestowed upon Amoiencia School of Sorcery," Headmaster spoke, his blue eyes meeting with another pair which was clouded behind round glasses. Riddle knew that stealing the spotlight just under Albus Dumbledore's nose had been even the more satisfactory.

"We'd like to welcome our fellow wizards and witches, coming from close to home or far away! Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are the participating schools…"

This was Tom Marvolo Riddle's reality, his world and accomplishments. By choosing to send Hermione Granger away, he had confirmed yet again that he owed this life to his dear mother.

His dear mother who had changed everything for him, her friends, her dreams and her life! She had done everything just for him. She had loved him, cared for him.

He loved her with all his heart. She had been his mother; only his, no matter his siblings and father.

Giving him everything he ever wanted –including helping to build this very school—Hermione Riddle had given him the means to accomplish everything and anything his heart desired.

He blinked and his mind flashed to a picture of a monument in the atrium of the Ministry. It was a larger than life statue of him, standing in victory. And under his feet were the souls of the inferior, shouldering the weight of his triumph. His Ministry functioning with the alumni of his school, the students he himself raised to serve him. Such contentment! Wizarding Britain only ruled by those of superior magical abilities.

He would do it to make his mother proud, to honor her spirit and pay homage to her magical supremacy.

Tom Marvolo Riddle wasn't going to let his mother down.

The End

Aaaand, finished!

Thank you all again for reading this story, following and/or reviewing! I hope you've enjoyed it. I'm proud to finally have a completed story on my profile.

I'm thanking again to my beta, Bunnyhops, for the well-thought details and advices.

Before my departure, I'd like to reply to guest reviewers as well:

Guest4: Here is the chapter! I hated making you wait, and with all of the feedback it is really hard for me to be patient xD I hope you've liked it!

Guest5: Yep, Riddle Sr. is an ass. That's only one quality to him, though. And he is a selective ass (does this even make sense? lol), who in fact is a decent person to those he deems valuable to him. I hope this chapter added more depth to his character, and perhaps made you like him more? Nevertheless, hope you've enjoyed reading!

Guest6: Your excitement makes me excited! *giggles* Thank you for the review, hope it was worth the wait!

Elzie: Thank you! Great to hear you liked it :D

Guest7: The update is already here! Sad that it's the last one (T.T) I hope you've enjoyed it :)

mega700201 (your PM is off, hope it's okay for me to answer from here): I'm glad you liked it! Thank you for letting me know what you think. I wish there were more chapters, but oh well, hope I didn't disappoint! :)

Guest8: Please excuse my own excitement over reading your review, then! :DD I'm really overjoyed to hear that you think it is fantastic. I'm flattered :') The story gradually gets more reviews thanks to you and many more lovely readers, so no worries there! I hope you've enjoyed the end :)

SEE YOU AT ANOTHER STORY!

-Ydream08