A/N: This fic will be dark, have lemons, and humor at times. Also, I will be updating sporadically. (Once a month-ish…)

The Lies of Good and Evil

The first mistake Dumbledore made was assuming Voldemort made those Horcruxes when in fact he was keeping them safe for his mentor. What is a guy to do when a renowned 'Light' wizard starts to try to kill him? Why, protect himself, of course! And why does a certain curly haired girl make his pulse race? Hermione/Tom Riddle *Tom POV*

Chapter One

Tom left Riddle house bathed in blood but that wasn't even the most notable thing about him that night. Had anyone laid eyes on the teenaged budding dark lord, they would have shivered and hightailed it to the nearest pub to drown in whiskey, avoiding the dark and ominous object in his hands.

He was riding high, dark and terrible memories crashing together, rolling around his brain caressing the pleasure centers that were currently in control. The torture and death of his closest blood relatives should have saddened him, should have made him recoil with anger but he could find little but enjoyment from their last moments.

It all started that morning when he had slipped away from Hogsmeade, chasing down a lead about his Uncle Morfin and found himself face to face with the revolutionary leader, Gellert Grindelwald.

"I've head things about you. Promising things," Grindelwald said, leaning nonchalantly against a tree, in the middle of nowhere. It was just the two of them for miles.

"I've heard things about you too. Stupid things."

"Really?" Grindelwald grinned, amusement colored his voice. "If you were me, what would you do differently?"

"Well, first of all, I would focus on winning."

"I am all ears, impress me with your brilliant plans."

"Your movement isn't strong enough. If you fall, the whole war collapses but if you could ensure success, would you do it?"

"And what do you think would ensure success?"

"What if there was a way to tether your soul to the living so that you can never die."

Grindelwald raised his brow, no longer smiling. The intensity of his stare would have been unnerving had Tom been any less of a bad ass.

"Horcruxes." The word slid off Tom's tongue like a seductive promise of eternal power as if it weren't the horrible maiming of a soul. Grindelwald pushed off from the tree and moved closer, a hard, disgusted expression on his face.

"I want superiority over muggles for all wizards, despite their humble beginnings and bring our people out from the shadows to walk freely in the world. I have no desire to mess with the very core of myself, the very center of my being. The moral high ground is mine. Horcruxes dirty the movement."

"That is a very pretty sentiment but last I checked, the other wizards around the world feared you, wanted to capture you. I don't think they want what you are trying to sell. Horcruxes would merely ensure you have an unlimited amount of time to convince the world. If you were truly serious about magic, wouldn't you do anything, commit any act, even destroying your own soul just for the possibility of it? When Dumbledore finally gets off his arse to defeat you, I will rise. I won't make the same short-sighted decisions as you. I will take the Pureblooded and give them a rallying point behind their desire to rid the wizarding world of those of lesser blood and I will have the most powerful and well-trained army at my fingertips. I will never have to beg to acquire magical talent. They will flock to me because I am more powerful than they and because I will be invincible."

"Cocky little shit, aren't you?" Grindelwald sneered.

"No, just confident in my own skills. You can do whatever you want. Make Horcruxes or not. I don't really care."

"Have you?"

"Made Horcruxes?" Tom asked.

"Yes,"

"Not yet but I am sure an opportunity will present itself soon."

"How old are you? Twelve?"

"Ha ha! If I were twelve, you wouldn't be here talking to me, trying to recruit me."

"I am not trying to recruit you."

"No?" Tom smirked and slipped easily into the Grindelwald's mind, skimming his surface thoughts and reveling in the annoyance at his correct deduction of why they were having this conversation in the forest around little Hangleton. Grindelwald grimaced and looked away.

"I'm seventeen."

"And what family do you belong to, Tom Riddle, future Horcrux master?"

Tom snorted and tilted his head as if he were puzzling out the man in front of him. "I belong to no family."

"If that were true, the Purebloods would have nothing to do with you. You would most certainly have not amassed followers of the caliber you have drawn."

"That's true," Tom murmured.

"Well?"

"They follow me because I am Slytherin's heir. They follow me because I am the heir of Gaunt. They follow me because I am powerful,"

"No. They follow you because you are hungry. Ambition is the only currency that Slytherins understand. Well, that and gold."

"On that, we agree."

"Join me," Grindelwald said, no hint of annoyance or amusement. Only cold opportunity.

"Show me you are fully committed to your cause,"

"How?" Grindelwald scoffed. "By making a Horcrux?"

"You want my loyalty, but shouldn't you be the one to show your dedication? Dumbledore will eventually be forced to make his move against you and I am convinced you will fall. I have no intention of joining a doomed cause."

"If I make a Horcrux, you must bind yourself to me as my apprentice and bring all of your loyal pureblooded servants."

"I swear it," Tom smirked, knowing that Grindelwald was much too afraid to go through with it. No matter, his own plans wouldn't change.

"Who did you have in mind?"

Tom lifted a single brow and a slow smile spread over his face.

"I have the perfect Muggles."

"Lead on," Grindelwald dropped into a bow, exaggeration, and mockery exuded from every line of his body. Tom began to walk toward the town, never looking back to make sure Grindelwald was following.

They stopped only once before entering Riddle house at the front gate as Tom stared at what should have been his by right of birth. After a pregnant pause, Riddle pushed through the small white fence and sauntered up the walkway to the door of the family that didn't want him, that left him in an orphanage because they couldn't dredge up enough pity for their own kin on account of his parentage. Funny, because if not for his mother, he wouldn't draw half of the scions of the pure houses to serve under him.

He didn't bother to knock, pushing the door open and walking into the sitting room as if he owned the place and sat on one of the finely upholstered sofas, crossing his legs and resting his arm on the back. He lazily gestured for Grindelwald to sit and listened as his grandmother flew into a panic, trying to find her husband or son to chase away the perfectly legitimate rape baby that took over their precious home.

Grindelwald's sparkling eyes held fervor and malice, watching as the Muggles denied their progeny one last time.

"Lovely family you got here," Grindelwald murmured conversationally.

"Quite," Tom said in a clipped tone. The tension in every syllable.

Dropping once more into silence, the duo waited, finally moving only when the entire Riddle family moved in to chase them out.

"I hope you know how to make one," Grindelwald said as he rose, wand in hand. "But even if you don't, killing these Muggles will be a wonderful story to tell my men. Imagine a Muggle rejecting the wizard-born heir. How foolish,"

"There is a ritual once they are dead. All you need is an object to encase your fractured soul." His father and grandfather sputtered, going red in the face as the two wizards continued to ignore them and discuss their deaths calmly.

Grindelwald smiled a toothy grin that was out of place among the fear and gun handling of the Muggles. He switched his focus and with quick aim took all three Riddle's out, felling them like great timber one after another.

"Well?" Grindelwald asked Tom, gesturing to the dead bodies, the Muggles that never even had a chance at life once chosen and marked for death.

Tom patiently talked Grindelwald through the ritual. At the very end, Tom stopped and asked, "What are you going to use to house your soul?"

"I don't have anything with me, really…" Grindelwald trailed off, biting back a moan of pleasure as its intoxicating power swept through his body. He would do this a thousand, no, a million times to experience the feeling of euphoric lust and power. Not even the most talented of whores would be able to bring him such an orgasmic rush.

"I only have my school journal," Tom muttered, pulling out his unused diary that he had yet to use. "unless you want to use something here?"

"The diary is fine," Grindelwald grunted, trying to focus on not being swept away on the tide of bliss that roiled through him.

The diary was presented and soon enough, Grindelwald was split. Half of his soul in the diary clasped in Tom's arms and the other half in the body that should have felt the mutilation but didn't. Tom held out the small book to his master in a state of shock. Never did he think that Grindelwald would actually go through with it. Seeing it first hand was a lot different from learning theory and Tom knew that he would have to find another, different way to ensure his immortality. It was clear to him that Grindelwald couldn't even understand the extent of the change he had undergone and like a drug addict, Grindelwald basked in his high.

With a flick of his wand, Tom cleaned the blood and gore from the room and stitched the skin of his blood kin together so they would appear as if only sleeping. Not a single mark on their bodies would be found.

He clutched the diary to his chest and leaned down, pulling his master to his feet and towing him out of the room. The haze of the power rush cleared as soon as Grindelwald hit the warm summer air and he pulled his arm out of Tom's grasp.

"The moment you graduate, come to me. I will teach you more than you could ever imagine."

"Yes, master," Tom mumbled, the subservient epitaph falling clumsily from his tongue. It grated against everything he was, but a deal was a deal and now, he was Grindelwald's man.

Grindelwald disapparated away, leaving Tom clutching the diary and bloodstained, to make his way back to Hogwarts alone. He had only minutes to clean up and think of a good alibi that his professors would believe.

In the end, he needn't have worried. He stood in Headmaster Dippet's office, head hung low, completely stunned as Dippet offered comfort for his harrowing meeting with Grindelwald. After all, the best lie was the one that was made mostly of truth.

"My boy," the Headmaster muttered soothingly if ineffectually. Tom stood there and took it all, unable to believe that Dippet was this stupid. It was almost a willful suspension of belief that kept Tom out of trouble. Tom looked convincingly terrified and once he was out of Dippet's office, with absolutely no consequences, he walked to the Slytherin common. The diary called out to him, darkening his thoughts, and he knew that he had to hide his master's soul. He had to make sure that Dumbledore didn't even catch a whiff of the dark magic contained within.

"Hey, Tom!" Abraxas Malfoy called from the great leather monstrosity that stretched across the common room. "Did you hear about the new transfer student?"

Tom arched his brow, the only outward sign of his interest.

"What about it?" He hadn't but he wasn't about to tell Abraxas Malfoy that.

"She is Dumbledore's niece and sorted into Slytherin. I bet Dumbledore is reaming her out right now. What is he going to do about ignoring us snakes now?" Abraxas crowed.

Tom rolled his eyes. As if he cared about a stupid transfer student and her biased uncle, especially after the night he had. He walked to the stairs knowing that he would meet the new girl soon enough. In fact, he would bet every knut he possessed that he would be the one tasked with showing the new girl the ropes. It was his job as Prefect, a job he took seriously. He put his foot on the top step, moving to descend to the doors and paused.

"What's her name?"

"Hermione Dumbledore."

"Hermione," He muttered. It was an unusual name and he wasn't likely to forget it. Soon enough he would take her measure and most likely discard all thoughts of her in the same breath. Few could perform at his level and he expected little from her, even if she was related to the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore.

Tom walked to the dorms, wondering exactly how he was going to hide the diary. It absorbed his thoughts as he undressed after tucking the dark artifact deep into his second-hand trunk. Thoughts swirled long into the night, robbing him of sleep. The destructive miasma of the diary permeated through his psyche bringing to the forefront all his insecurities and fears.

Breakfast was loud, louder than Tom preferred. He squinted his eyes at the cheery ceiling and grimaced at the squeal emanating from the girl faction at Slytherin table. As much as he would have liked to claim sickness and lay abed, he knew that Dumbledore would be watching. With his niece now firmly embroiled into the snake pit, he had to be doubly careful. Abraxas was a fool the previous night, believing that Dumbledore would be unhappy placing a spy among Tom's peers.

"Tom, my boy!" Slughorn said jovially as he approached from behind, preventing Tom from reaching the table and the food. Beside him stood a girl, with wild brown hair and angry eyes. She pierced him with those cold eyes, eyes that shouted to all who cared to look her hatred of him, a veritable stranger. Who pissed in her tea? "This is Hermione, Dumbledore's niece and just as brilliant as her esteemed uncle."

"No doubt," Tom said courteously, unable to hide his wince at Slughorn's loud introduction.

"She is taking all the same classes as you, all advanced. According to Professor Dumbledore, she is at the top of every form. Some competition would be a welcome distraction, eh Tom? Especially in the form of such a fetching package!"

Tom had a difficult time containing his smirk at the horrified disgust that overtook Hermione's face and wondered how she was going to survive in Slytherin with such Gryffindor tendencies.

"Indeed," Tom said, and Hermione's eyes flew to his and narrowed dangerously once she realized that he was laughing at her. "It would be my pleasure," he drawled, enjoying the emotions that flit across the new girl's face. "to be your escort around the school until you are comfortable finding everything on your own."

"That is a kind offer," Hermione said through gritted teeth. "but as I told Professor Slughorn, it is hardly necessary. I am sure I would be able to find everything on my own."

"How ungallant you must think me," Tom widened his eyes with mock offense. "Surely, a gentleman would ensure a lady's comfort. It would be churlish of you to refuse such chivalry, and I am sure you did not mean to cause offense. We shall be the greatest of friends," Tom turned up the charm, watching Slughorn beam at him out of the corner of his eye. At first, he wasn't interested at all in being forced to show the new student around but the more he talked to her, the more rise he got out of her, the more he wanted to continue provoking her.

He didn't completely understand why it felt so satisfying but it was killing two birds with one stone. He would be able to see more of her intriguing behavior and he could keep an eye on Dumbledore's niece. It was perfect.

"Come sit next to me, Hermione, and I will do my best to make you feel at home here," If fire could shoot from a person's eyes, they would have already been flung from hers and he found that he wanted that fire directed at him. Passion and anger and something else raged within him at the sight of her meekly complying with his wishes in body, even if her spirt was cursing him to the deepest pits of hell.

This was going to be a good day.