You know, I was so close to having a completely Dumbledore free story. And I'm sorry for this, but I have some spoilers I need to use quickly. For those of you who haven't read the 6th book, do not highlight the area under this. Otherwise, do so.

I cannot believe I didn't keep it Dumbledore free! I really wish I had, but now I have to go back and omit his name the whole twice it's mentioned. It really sucks, but at least I got close to not mentioning him at all. I deserve a medal!

Anyway, I think I set a new personal record! That's right, I finished HP 6 in my personal record time of 6 ½ hours with breaks for food and such. That's right, I, Rogue Almighty, finished 652 pages in (technically, if you omit the food and bathroom breaks) just under 6 hours. W00t.

Also, to my reviewers:

?: Thanks bunches. But since you are anonymous, no cookie for you. Love you anyways.

CareBearErin- I love you. Seriously. You are my reviewer for the last chapter, so you get a cookie.

on with the story.

Hermione couldn't believe all the wonders he had gotten for her. There were the obvious needs: clothes, shoes, underwear, but then he went above and beyond the call. He had even thought of getting her tampons. The thought of him shopping for those was enough to make her blush. But apart from that, he'd even gotten some, well, some more 'frivolous' things. Such as: simple makeup, hair ties, a brush, comb, skins creams, and some books. Among the books was one of her own personal favorites: Hogwarts, A History. The books were of all different types. There were muggle books (on literature, philosophy, etc), and books on magic.

How he had thought of all these things, she would never know. But she was thankful for it. Hermione took a good hour pampering herself with the new items she had received. 'So sue me,' she thought as she exited the bathroom, 'I'm a girly girl at heart. Whoever said bookworms couldn't be?' Before returning to the kitchen, she went into the bedroom that Tom has proclaimed hers for as long as she was staying there.

The room was richly decorated. In one corner, facing the door was a large bed with deep red sheets. Beside it, on the nightstand sat a phone and an alarm clock. The room also had a dressing table, with a large mirror above it, a dresser, and on that dresser a T.V. and DVD/VCP combo. Hermione was instantly impressed with the layout. It was fashionable, and yet very comfortable. When she closed the door behind her, she noticed a mirror on the back. After surveying herself in it, she decided she looked fine in the low-rise jeans and peasant top she had chosen. She had managed to tame her hair into a manageable ponytail. And for once in what seemed like years to her, she looked normal.

Hermione sighed and sat on the bed. She had been keeping herself busy today in order to avoid thinking about what she had seen the night before. But now, in this plush room, alone, she could no longer keep the disturbing thoughts out of her head. Silent tears streaked down her face and she thought about her family. None of them deserved what had happened. Jennifer, he older sister, had just gotten her degree in psychology. She was supposed to start her own practice soon. And Amy, gods, AMY. She was going to be starting school this year. She had been so proud of herself, ready to go and learn, just like her aunt. And her parents were just finally beginning to move on after the death of Hermione's other sibling, Gavin. Gavin had died in a car accident during Hermione's seventh year, and now she had lost the rest of her family. She was truly alone in the world now, and nothing was ever going to change that.

She broke out of her reverie when she heard a soft knock on the door. Quickly rubbing her face dry, she got off the bed and walked slowly to the door. Tom stood outside, leaning on the wall across the hall (looking incredibly smashing in an all black outfit including a wife beater, casual slacks, and a black casual jacket). He looked up and smiled when she opened the door and stood up straight. Tom offered her his arm.

"Ready for dinner, my dear?" She nods and smiled softly, before taking his arm and letting him lead her to the kitchen. On the table sat a heavenly smelling Italian meal. Hermione gaped at all the food, before looking between the table and Tom, and then back again. Tom smirked, and pulled out her chair, in which she sat, still not saying anything.

"I hope you like Italian. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just took a wild guess." Which was a total lie. Tom had spoken to the stubborn Italian, Blaise Zabini, an ex boyfriend of Hermione's, and prisoner of his. Blaise had let slip that Hermione loved Italian. The fool. Hermione nodded to him and looked down at the table. 'hmmm,' Tom thought, 'This is going to be harder then I thought.'

So, for the rest of the meal, he forced small talk, trying to coax a response out of her. The most he got was a yes or no when needed. He was beginning to get frustrated. He may be a very patient man, but even he had his limits. After dinner, he stood up and started clearing the dishes from the table. He was stopped by a small hand resting on his.

"Um, why don't I do dishes? After all, you cooked. This is the least I can do." Hermione smile uncertainly at him, and returned it. Tom shook his head.

"Sorry, love. I can't do that. But tell you what. If you really want to help, why don't we do the dishes together? We can talk and get to know each other a little better." Hermione looked intrigued by this prospect and nodded her consent. She removed her hand from his and helped him bring the dishes to the sink.

It turned out that he didn't have a dishwasher, so they had to do that by hand. Tom washed, while Hermone dried and placed then on the counter. Throughout this ordeal, Tom spoke of many things. Everything he said was light and casual, unimportant. When Hermione started taking part in the conversation, laughing and talking freely with him, he took a chance.

Hermione was actually enjoying washing the dishes. Tom, she found out, was a very enlightened individual, and was easy to talk to. She felt free while she was talking to him. That was, however, until she got a face of soap bubbles. As she sputtered and wiped them off, Tom chuckled good naturedly. He had been correct in assuming she'd take it jokingly. But then she had gotten her payback, do the same to him. Something he definitely wasn't expecting.

Tom was having a genuine time of messing around with her. He had never done so before, and doing it now was liberating. After she had retaliated, he had chased her through the flat with his hands full of bubbles, attempting to catch her so as to continue the bubble war. It wasn't until they got to his bedroom where she tired from her running and slowed just enough to allow him to tackle her. And that he did. She found herself faced down on his bed, with Tom Riddle pinning her down. He took advantage of her compromising position and shoved the bubbles up her shirt. She shrieked at the coolness on her back and jumped up, knocking the unsuspecting Tom to the floor. When Hermione was comfortable again, minus the bubbles, she looked down at Tom, who was sprawled across the floor with a shocked expression on his, and laughed. It started with a giggle, which soon turned into a full out laugh, which caused her to fall backward on the bed, shaking with mirth.

Tom glowered at her and jumped back on the bed, and tried to calm the shaking girl. He hadn't realized, however, that laughter was contagious and soon joined her in her laughter. When they finally calmed down, Tom looked at her with a genuine smile on his face.

"You know, Hermione, I've never had friends. And I have most definitely never laughed like that, and for no reason! I never realized life could be so…spontaneous." She smiled back and sat up on the bed. Tom followed suit, and the soon found themselves face to face, with their lips inches apart.

Hermione couldn't breath. Here was the Dark Lord, acting like a teenager, right in front of her. He was so close they could kiss, and that frightened Hermione. It frightened her that she wanted him to kiss her. After all, he was devastatingly handsome, and she could just imagine how well he tasted. She shook herself to rid her mind of those thoughts, and was about to get up from the bed, make her excuses, and scurry off in the direction of her room. Then Tom leaned in even closer and kissed her lightly. It was such a quick peck that Hermione doubted it had actually happened.

Tom stood up from the bed and offered her a hand. "Want to go and watch television for a bit? It's not late enough for bed, but I doubt there's very much else we can do for now." Hermione nodded, taking his proffered hand and followed him into the sitting room. He handed the remote and suggested she find something interesting to watch. "I don't watch television often, so how about you choose a show you like?"

She took the remote and started flipping through channels before landing on a show she really liked. "It's called Life Laundry," She explained, "Each week, they go to a different muggle's house and sort through their mess of belongings, getting rid of what they don't need, and organizing the things they do need, or want to keep. I always liked watching the transformation of the person and they get rid of their possession." Tom still looked confused at the idea of the show and just watched. It just happened that that day was the season premiere, so it was two hours (two homes) long. This meant that it wasn't over until nine o'clock.

Tom looked at Hermione sitting on the loveseat and realized she was asleep. He smiled softly, with only a little bit of evil in it, and picked her up. Bringing her to her bedroom, he placed her into the bed, and quietly exited the room after a muttered good night. He walked down the hall and into his room, where he got changed and retired to bed. However, as it was still early, he aly awake for a while and thought.

Hermone was beginning to unnerve him. He's never before wanted to act like a normal human being, and had never thought he'd keep some one around for something other then manipulation. Yet, her he was, actually beginning to feel like Hermoine mattered. That was preposterous, he knew, she didn't. But if things came to it, he wouldn't want her dead.

And the was the closest Tom Riddle had ever gotten to true affection. And it scared him.

Yay. I updated. Aren't we so proud? I have no ideas for the next chapter right now, so if it takes even longer for me to get the next chapter up, that's why.

I am so sorry for the long delay in this chapter. I have four plot bunnies running around in my head right now, all of which dind't want me to write this, and write them instead.

And for those of you who think the story is progressing to fast, I swear it isn't. Tom has made a startling discovery, so he won't continue like this, now will he? That's much too predictable, and tha won't do for the Dark Lrd.

And the show they're watching? It's a real show, which I happen to like. It's on BBC (PBS for me) And I love watching it. If you get it on your television, I really suggest watching it.

And, as always, please review.