Title: The Pensieve

A/N: Some might be able to recognize this story as the plot develops. To those, I say: I am that author. I can't gain access to that account and as my writing style has changed decisively over the years, I am starting this story from scratch, starting afresh. Further explanations in my author's profile.

The halls were nearly empty except for the two students bickering in the dark.

Hermione Granger and Tom Riddle were Head Girl and Head Boy respectively. One was a Gryffindor; the other, a Slytherin. The fact that they had to work together didn't mean they could like themselves any less.

"All I'm saying is, you had no right to threaten that poor first year. He was lost, Riddle. You're always so… But of course I forget who I'm talking to."

"It doesn't matter whether he was lost or stupid, Granger. May I remind you what our nightly tasks are about? Keep the students out of the corridors, make sure no mischief occurs…"

"…and no one is allowed out after ten. Yes, I know, and nowhere does it say scare the beejeezus out of them, you emotionally illiterate snake!"

They stopped at the stairs, and the tall Slytherin rewarded Hermione Granger's indignation with a raised brow and what was beginning to become a slightly exasperated glare. "Don't try my patience. We all know I could have sent that student to the Headmaster or the Caretaker and he would have gotten severely punished. The fact that I insinuated—"

"You downright guaranteed him an expulsion!" his companion protested angrily.

"—Insinuated a great punishment for his misbehavior does not mean I wasn't doing him a great favor. We won't be seeing that student lost at night again, I assure you."

Hermione huffed. How a domineering megalomaniac such as Tom Riddle could have been given any position of power escaped her. But of course, he had always been a favorite. The Slytherin's insane, bigoted and sadistic tendencies escaped any teacher he charmed. Even Headmaster Dippet had been blinded by the charismatic git. It was lucky she was there to protect the students, even if the task had become nearly insufferable. There was no point reasoning with Riddle.

"I'm the Head Girl and I'm telling you not to do it again! Respect me for once, Tom. Whether you like it or not, I am your equal."

The dark-haired boy smirked. He knew just the way to annoy the source of constant nagging that was known as Hermione Granger, and it was needless to say he secretly enjoyed it. "Well, I'm Head Boy, Granger. Whether you like it or not, I am above you as a man—"

"You chauvinistic git!" an indignated Hermione seethed, repulsed, but of course he ignored her.

"—and as a student," he went on. "Don't delude yourself, Granger. You know full well I am the better wizard. Anyway, we're here."

That last statement shut any of Hermione's complaints as she looked at the door in front of her. Tom Riddle smirked to himself as Hermione's pride could not contain the wonder in her expression. "That door wasn't here before."

"It is a magic door, Granger," Riddle replied lazily. "And it answers only to me. Shall we enter, now?"

"This isn't a trick, is it? How could a door only answer to you? You can't be that full of yourself to actually think… And the mere thought of a room filled with—"

"With magic items, yes. I know to your narrow mudblood mind it sounds incredible, but then again: you probably thought magic was incredible at some time, did you not? Your filthy background… And to think that I am allowing you to assist me despite your many limitations. But alas I need another mind, Granger, and unfortunately yours is the only mind I can trust at the moment. Can I trust it?"

"Sod off," she hissed her disdain for him with every letter. The boy chuckled.

"I know I can. You know why? You cannot pass this up, and unfortunately for you, I know it. And I know that if I demand your most absolute secrecy and loyalty in exchange for knowledge, information that I could just as easily learn on my own leaving your chances of graduating at the top in the dust… Your feeble witch's mind won't be able to resist, nor will your silly Gryffindor heart be able to betray me. So shall I close the door, Granger, or will you join me?"

"I cannot stand you," Hermione frowned. "But I'll do it. Only to gain knowledge."

"Good," Riddle said, and after a flick of his wand, the door opened.

The room was filled with piles and piles of many things: lost books, old shoes, even discarded bottles of butterbeer. Every once in a while, Hermione would look, and she would catch a glimpse of something wonderful. There was a broken Vanishing Cabinet, an old book on Ancient Runes, and she even thought she saw out of the corner of her eye an old copy of Hogwarts, A History written in Latin. She could not believe she had never noticed this place. Even more unbelievable was the fact that Tom Riddle had lead her there. What could he possibly be plotting?

"So where is it," Hermione said, feigning impatience with the young man whose sole mission in life had appeared to be, for the past year, to make her life miserable.

Tom Riddle knew what Hermione was trying to hide either way. "I knew you would like this place. You're welcome."

Hermione blushed. It was not because of a sudden bout of shyness. "Where is it, Riddle, I know this is going to cost me."

"The honor of joining me in my task? You are quite right, it will cost you dearly. The Pensieve is a few feet away. It is hidden, however. First, I need your word."

Granger looked at him suspiciously. "My word?"

"I do not like you, Granger, any less than you do not like me, but there are some qualities in you that I respect. They are quite useful to me. You can be useful. You are not stupid, like the rest, you are dedicated… And above all, you can keep your word. I need you to promise me that whatever happens in this room, you will not tell a soul. Break this promise and I will not be responsible for the grave consequences. Am I understood?"

"And what do I get in return?"

Tom Riddle smiled. "The privilege of entering this room whenever you wish, having access to all of this room but the pensieve. This, as long as you tell me of anything you've found. Anything. I want full access to the knowledge you can gain here in my absence, and full devotion to me during the time we spend together in this place. I am not asking for much, considering all that can be obtained here. And above all consider that I haven't mentioned this place to a single soul. The fact that I trust you with this—you, above all—"he trailed off, then quickly regained himself. "But it is not necessary to remind you of what I think of your kind for you to appreciate this as the highest honor."

Hermione frowned. She was accustomed to his usual venom. But, underneath all those insults, it seemed almost like Tom Riddle was trying to flatter her. The action was so unusual in him that it sent all kinds of warning bells in the back of her mind. "You have my word," she promised, though hesitantly. She cursed her curious mind.