The Dark Lord's Rose - A Tom Riddle Love Story

Part I - Fantasies

December 11, 1943

They rolled beneath the sheets, sweaty and grasping each other everywhere. He turned her onto her back and climbed on top of her, kissing her lips passionately. His lips trailed down her neck and ran his tongue along her collar bone as she felt a wonderful shiver throughout her body.

He played with her breasts and teased her opening with his erection. He stopped kissing her, gazing at her with his dark eyes. "And what should I do now, Miss Horton?"

"Fuck me," she could barely speak, delirious with pleasure.

"I'm not convinced." He leaned close to her and whispered this into her ear.

"Please, Tom. Please, fuck me."

He gave her a smirking, satisfied look and she dug her nails into his back, letting out a gasp as he pressed himself inside of her.

xxxxxxx

Rosemary woke in a sweat, her heart pounding and head fuzzy. She remained in bed for a few moments, replaying the dream in her head for as long as she could before the details began to slip away. Tom Riddle had become a regular occurrence in her dreams, but they had never been quite so graphic. It seemed like the longer she nursed her infatuation of him, the more she craved him in an animal-like way. It was odd to her; she had never felt this sort of intensity for Markus.

She knew it was early, but the dream had left her wide awake and rather invigorated, not to mention outrageously turned-on. Rose just hoped that she would be able to push its memory from her mind when she saw Tom later that day for their trip to Hogsmeade.

By the time she showered and fixed her hair five different ways before deciding to wear it the first way she had tried, Faye had also woken up and began getting ready.

"Why did you have to ask Riddle?" she sighed. "I still can't believe it. It's going to be so awkward with him there."

"How so?" Rose asked while applying blush to her cheekbones.

"Well, hm, let me see..." She paused dramatically, pretending to think. "He's only the least sociable person at Hogwarts. How will Adam and I be able to talk at all?"

"He's plenty sociable. Just because he doesn't subscribe to Witch Weekly doesn't mean that he's not."

"Look at you, defending your boyfriend. How sweet." Faye put on some mascara as Rose glared at her.

"He's not my-"

"I know, I know. You just find him interesting. Fine, he can be sociable, but he definitely doesn't know how to have a good time. Honestly, I don't see how talking to him is any different than sitting in class. He may as well be a professor with the way he carries on..."

"Well, I don't mind it. By the way, I thought you might be a little more thankful that I set this whole thing up. We're only going to be there for a few minutes anyways. We'll give some excuse and then leave you and Lestrange to fall madly in love over a few cups of tea."

Faye's opinion of him genuinely puzzled Rose. She seemed to be the only person at Hogwarts that had a negative opinion of Tom and for such shallow reasons. He was too intellectual, really? One would think that someone in the Ravenclaw house would appreciate someone of such brilliance, but Rose knew that Faye didn't place the same importance on it. She was smart of course, but was quite insecure about the "bookworm" stereotype of their house and spent nearly all of her energy trying to avoid being labeled as such. Even Rose held this insecurity to some degree during their first few years at Hogwarts, but she had grown out of it by the time they were third years. It was because of this constant worry that Faye poured over the tabloids like Witch Weeklyand spent more time partying with friends than she ever did on homework. Tom was serious, reserved, and dedicated, which were all of the traits that Faye constantly attempted to rid from herself. This was probably the real reason for her dislike.