Note: I never know what to say on these things, but I did feel the need to make a note before you read on to explain a few things, I guess? The summary is shit because I can't do summaries to save my life. Ask my English teacher, she will tell you the same thing. The rating 'M' is because of future scenes - I do like writing steamy scenes and of course, when your male lead is Tom Riddle, there are going to be some (well, a whole lot,) of violent scenes as he is the Dark Lord (as well as a Sex God). He isn't called Dark for nothing.

Anyways, reviews are always welcome, but please do go easy on me as it is my first Tomione fic. And please do inform me if there are any grammatical errors that make you cringe. Another thing, I'm quite sorry if I use way too many commas - I just love them quite a lot.

x, Melissa

P.S - Don't mind my username. I actually love Abraxas Malfoy. It's just that I can't help it if there's a portion of his name can be changed to make it something funnier. Long story short, I found it funny so I'm keeping it (unless I find a funnier name.)

Update 052513: Er, I decided to transfer the last scene of this one to the second chapter as it did make better sense to. For the new, readers, you won't notice this but hello, I'm glad you decided on reading this.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, which includes the characters. If I did, then I wouldn't be here - I'd probably be somewhere else. I only own the plot and the original characters that appear.

Hermione Granger was a sensible girl, the most sensible one to walk the halls of Hogwarts. She was a cunning girl with courage in her blood, and had it not be known that she was a muggle-born, everyone would think she were of pureblood descent. She was also someone who did not let her emotions get the best of her. But of course, above all her sensibility, intelligence, and courage, it still didn't hide the fact that Hermione Granger was still a girl.

It also didn't hide the fact that Hermione Granger, a sensible girl, had fallen in love somewhere in between time, with Ronald Weasley.

It was a glorious night by the black lake. Yes, it was a walk from the castle, but seeing as the Gryffindors did not want to get into trouble of having to clean the common room up, they had opted to have their victory party near the lake. After all, it was a Friday night, the perfect time for a party. It was a grand celebration - their beloved Quidditch team had made it into the finals and their chances of winning were quite high. (Ninety-two percent, according to Hermione who calculated the statistics because she was bored beyond her mind during Divination.) Yes, it was one of those nights that Dark Lords and unforgivable spells were forgotten because victory was in the air, but more importantly, so was love.

It was a night of merriment and though she was Head Girl and knew that alcoholic beverages were certainly not allowed, she allowed it only if it were drank in moderation and that she be the one to purchase it (so that she could enchant their alcohol percentage into much much much less.) Hermione Granger definitely had her ways of making things go her way, but she planned tonight very differently from what had happened.

And though the drinks were enchanted not to let anyone have horrible headaches the morning after, it did supply, however, enough alcohol to give liquid courage. Hermione Granger felt very confident, wearing a skin-tight black dress, borrowed from none other than Ginny Weasley, who coincidentally, had given her all the drinks that she drank that evening. She was enjoying herself at a party which normally, she wouldn't. There was something different about tonight and she knew it. The party was at its peak and everyone seemed like they were enjoying themselves. It was between the sixth and ninth shot that she decided that she was ready to confess her feelings for one ginger-haired boy.

"Ginny," Hermione said as she tapped her friend on the shoulder to get her attention. "Your brother, where is he? And Harry?" She quickly added that part about Harry, hoping that the other wouldn't catch on to what she was about to do.

Ginny looked around the sea of people as if to pinpoint exactly where he was, but her eyes found one, but not the other. "Harry's there," she answered, turning a shade redder than before as she pointed to the boy with the messy hair and circular glasses. "But Ron did say something about being too tired to stay until the end. I reckon he left just a few minutes ago," she said as her eyes focused on Hermione again. She also remembered (which she purposely failed to mention) that Ron left with one Lavender Brown on his arm after he ended the conversation. She knew that it was neither hers nor Hermione's business to interfere with her life, and was quite content with the answer she gave to Hermione.

"Right," Hermione nodded. "Thanks, Gin. I think I'll head back too, I'm pretty tired, myself." Which was a lie, of course, but she couldn't let the ginger know that. Hermione turned around and walk towards the direction of the castle before Ginny could even volunteer to come with her.

She passed by Harry on her way back, telling the exact excuse she told Ginny, and bid him a good night. Before she could leave, however, Harry had asked her where Ginny was and if she was busy. Hermione smiled at his question and gave him the proper answers but he made no move towards her. And again, she waved bye to her friend and started walking back to the castle. And if Harry looked to Hermione's direction, he would see her bushy hair moving side to side as if Hermione was shaking her head.

She was making her way back, thinking of all the things that she could tell him without scaring him off. She even laughed to herself about what she exactly she was doing. She second guessed herself as well, because she knew who she was and she would never do this. Tonight, however, was the exception. She had too much to drink and she was feeling giddy, happy, and after a long time, relaxed. Her mind was so deep into the situation that she didn't even notice that she was infront of the portrait already (and the numerous couples that she passed by on the way back to the Gryffindor tower.)

"Password?" The fat lady asked in a grumpy way, as it was late at night and the sound of footsteps woke her up.

"Veni, Vidi, Vici," she said, shaking her head in silent laughter. It was her week to choose the password to the Common Rooms and she had chosen her favorite line form a muggle book about a Roman emperor who had fallen with the hands of his so-called friends. It was brutal, yes, but she didn't mind it because it was a relatively easy password and it had meant, "I came, I saw, I conquered." She thought it was quite funny that each person had to say it each time he/she entered the room.

The fat lady smiled and opened the door slightly to have her push it open. She took a deep breath to prepare herself for what she was about to do, hoping he was in the Common Room so she wouldn't have to ask anybody to retrieve him from his room. She stepped in the room, walked across the dark hallway to where the light of the common room shone, only to have her steps falter and have the blood to rush out of her face.

And on the night that she was so ready to confess her (something close to) love for Ron Weasley, with of course, the help of liquid confidence and the fact that Ron had been dropping hints all week, she stopped at where the hallway intersected with the common room to find that same boy in a quite comfortable position with another girl. Yes, Hermione caught the pair, snuggled up on the loveseat in front of the fire. (Parenthetically, it should be said that given someone was there watching her expression, that person would be able to pin point the exact moment when Hermione Granger's heart broke.) And what made it worse was that they, in fact, looked happy together. The sight made her double think herself – Did she just want to see those signs that Ron was giving her? Were his small bumps to her all a dream? Had he not brushed her hand with his while walking too many times? If it happened to another person, then she wouldn't have minded but everything seemed to just be magnified twice as much when it happened to her.

The pain that her heart she experienced could be compared to none other – to the pain she's felt before. And it should not be forgotten that Hermione Granger went through a lot of pain in her lifetime – too much death, tragedy, and others such as those stated for a girl of her age. There, in the threshold she stood, rooted at the spot, looking at the couple that looked truly happy. The room had begun to spun and she knew she had to leave, and so for just that moment, she reverted back to sensible Hermione, and being as quiet as a mouse - not that Hogwarts had any - she retreated back to where she came from.

It was only when she could feel the night air that she could no longer hold the tears that built in her eyes. She walked away form the portrait door, happy that no one was in sight. She needed a place to cry – to hide. She needed a place to think, to compose herself. She wanted to be alone and yet at the same time, needed companionship. She needed an escape. She kept walking away until she found herself on a certain floor that she spent countless days in on her fifth year. She was mindlessly walking in the hallway, wiping her tears away when she noticed something form in her peripheral vision. She smiled a knowing smile, and thanked Hogwarts before opening the door and walking in.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, but she walked on anyway. The room was empty except for two objects in the center of it all – a mirror and a chair that sat directly opposite it. Her mood lightened at what the room had given her. It was simple and she couldn't help but think that it was exactly what she asked for. But she couldn't help but try to remember exactly what she was thinking or what she needed when the door appeared. Nothing came to mind, but she shook her head for she knew it was along the lines of escape. But hadn't she also thought of companionship? Of someone to talk to? What would the room give her then?

Her fingers grazed the back of the chair, and looked in the mirror. She only saw herself. She sighed and sat down. She closed her eyes and for a moment, one tiny moment, she could pretend that nothing had happened that night, she had not seen anything in the common room, her heart did not break, et cetera, et cetera. However, moments end and they do so harshly. Hermione began crying – not for the fact that Ron Weasley didn't reciprocate the same felings – but for the fact that she was so sick and tired of being alone.

Harry had Cho Chang and even after, he had Ginny. Ron had Parvati and even Fleur (for that brief period of time in fourth year.) She, on the other hand, had no one, not even Krum (whom she remained friends with after that fiasco in the TriWizard tournament.) She had been housing a crush on her fellow friend for quite a number of years now and it dawned on her how pathetic her feelings and behavior was.

And Hermione Granger was definitely not the type who would be even be considered to be pathetic.

She turned to the mirror. Seeing her reflection, she decided that it was time to take a good look at herself so she then opted to stand instead of sitting. She surveyed herself in the mirror. Her hair fell with waves rather than curls down her back. Her body was lean from all the running from danger that she had gotten with Harry and Ron. She allowed herself a moment to think of those thoughts and smile. She wasn't that bad, was she? She shook her head. And that was the exact point, Hermione pushed her feelings away and resolved to be a new but still sensible Hermione.

She, then, made all the decisions in her head. She would take more time and effort to fix herself. She would stop pining over Ron Weasley because she had a much better use of her time. She would go out more often but still keep the grades that she was getting. She made a mental plan of how she was going to do it. And with that, she finished her night feeling a lot stronger than she did before she entered the room.

"They won't know what hit them," she said as she turned away from the mirror.

"No, they won't," a voice said. Hermione stopped at her tracks. She drew her wand and pointed it at the darkness, ready to fire at anyone. Her senses were heightened and she was now in battle-mode.

"Who are you and how long have you been there?" Hermione demanded, turning around looking for some sort of life but found none.

"You ask me who I am yet you cannot find me," said the voice once again causing Hermione to panic. "Look at the mirror, dear," the voice said. Hermione didn't know whether to run and just forget she ever heard something or to do as the voice told her. Although one thing about Hermione is that she never really liked breaking rules and she would always follow them (except for the brief moment in her fifth year – but hey! That was a matter of life and death.)

Curiosity always did get the better of her, and so she turned around to look at the mirror. There, with her reflection, was a boy who was painstakingly handsome that he caused Hermione's breathing to falter and to throw all thoughts of Ron aside. She couldn't quite think of anyone that could compare to the boy in the mirror, but then again the devil was the most beautiful angel in Heaven and this boy was little ways close to it (but she didn't know that yet.)

Alas, Hermione didn't let (extremely) handsome boys throw her off and the fact that he was in the mirror wasn't exactly going to slide by her either. She knew he was trouble, she knew.

"You might be wondering about my current state," the boy asked, arching an eyebrow. Hermione nodded in response for no words formed into a coherent sentence in her head. "If you please," the boy said gesturing to the chair in front of the mirror.

And on his cue, she sat down. She glanced at her wristwatch – it was half past eleven in the evening. She had time, and she was one of the most brilliant witches in the world – she would easily be able to escape. After all, the room had been good to her. It always was.

"It began a few days ago," he said, looking in the distance. "I was worrying about time – the past, present, and future. You know, all things concerning those. I figured, why not make something that could allow people to talk in between time? Why not create an object to converse with someone ahead of time?"

At this point, Hermione gripped her wand a lot tighter, and prepared so that she could run at any moment's notice. And she seemed to be placing his face somewhere in her thoughts – just trying to remember which particular moment she saw him.

"And then you see, there was a trust issue – as there always is. I figured what if the person wanted to see who he, or she," he sent Hermione a wink before resuming, "was talking to? I figured a mirror would be perfect so I can see you, and you can see me. Now, pray-tell me: who are you and what year is it there?"

Hermione didn't know whether to answer or to leave, she chose the latter. Although her good manners did get the best of her before she did so. "I'm sorry, I will not tell you who I am and what year it is – this is quite a foolish thing for you to do and it should have not been done. I'm sorry to destroy your work – you are quite brilliant and this is stellar, but," she pointed her wand at them mirror, looking the boy squarely in the eye. The boy had changed his stance. Gone was the courteous boy that was in the mirror. The phrase 'if looks could kill' comes into mind although his was definitely one to kill, rather than meaning that he was, not that he wasn't, handsome. Yes, the boy in the mirror looked as if he wanted to kill Hermione Granger.

"Expulso,"

The shards of the mirror went everywhere, and she turned around in an effort to protect herself from it. A blinding light came from the frame of the now-broken mirror.

The room started to shake, and she could hear things falling – but from where? There was nothing in the room when she entered. She looked around to see things seeming to appear in the background. But she didn't have time dwell on that given the current state. Hermione turned away from the mirror, and began running/wobbling back to the door – she needed to leave. She was only in her sixth year – she did not want to die especially when she hasn't finished her schooling. Even more, she was supposed to help her two best mates fight the evil that was hunting them. But before she could even reach the door, a blast sent her flying, and the feeling of being thrown was the last thing she felt before she blacked out.

Note: So who was the boy in the mirror? LOL LIKE YOU DON'T ALREADY KNOW. I don't even know if I'll want to continue this fic, but I probably am. I just need to figure out who to /feel/, cry, and write at the same time. Tomione kills me, and I'm pretty sure it kills you too. x