This is raw. Unedited musings of my mind that don't have a coherent skeleton yet. It's not even spell checked. I wanted to publicized it before actually working. Why? Just because.
I actually hate you. Hermione looked outside the window of Gryffindor tower. It was a rainy October. The snow decided to take a holiday and you couldn't see past a few feet of rain. It had been 15 hours, 30 minutes, and 19 seconds since she'd spoken with Harry or heard at all from Ron. It was all because of that dark haired git that appeared out of no where to ruin 6 years of friendship.
They say Tom was a transfer student from Durmstrang. That was a hoax. Tom Riddle was actually from the past; brought in by the Order in hopes that he could have a second chance at life. It had not been easy to convince Tom. He agreed to travel to the future on the pretense that he wanted to know at what heights awaited his future. He has no intention at all of changing.
When he arrived at the Great Hall, he was introduced to everyone as the transfer student. Handsome, quiet, but eerily magnetic.
"Well well." the Sorting Hat almost laughed. The sorting hat itself was subjected to vile offenses during the battle of Hogwarts; having it's orifice host to swords in places it should not have been host to. It was no surprise that the hat was not pleased to see Tom. Nevertheless it had a job to do. But it wouldn't let Tom get away so easily.
"Choose." The hat merely stated. A moment of dark silence ensued before Tom's mouth twitched. He was given a choice that was never offered to students in the history of magic. He was given a choice: Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and even that house of morons Hufflepuff all bowed to his mercy. Tom had already exploited Slytherin. He knew exactly to what extent the house could elevate him to. He was never a fan of knowledge. Ravenclaw just wasn't interesting enough. Before he could hiss a response the sorting hat beat him to it.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
And as usual, the house cheered. He sat next to the trio.
"Don't suppose one of you could show me around the common room?" the silken voice that was both gentle and commanding suggested. Ron gobbled some excuse and mumbled away. Hermione and Harry changed a quick glance.
"Fine." Hermione tried hard not to roll her eyes. This Tom character was strikingly handsome, but Hermione was immune. After Viktor Krum she had learned rather quickly that looks don't matter. Still, the more she spent time the more evident it was that he had a pull. She systematically showed him the castle: they started from the Great Hall, dormitories, lavarotories, and far away glances of the Quidditch field and Forbidden forest. Tom held silent and inquisitve, not for a moment letting go of the fact that he knew the halls better than even Hermione. He ran along with it.