AN: Thanks to stsgirlie, MagZ86 and bookworm2895 for the reviews, favorites and alerts. And thank you to everyone who continues to read and review this story, it has gotten more attention than I had anticipated :) So thank you guys so much! Onto the next.

Chapter 9: Easier to Run:

Hermione couldn't have been more thankful that the masquerade had been on a Friday. Being on a Friday gave her two whole days of not having to see Tom. She sat in the Room of Requirement, which had decorated itself in an exact replica of the Gryffindor common room. A fire was roaring in the mantle, unneeded, but still very comforting to her troubled mind. A bright glimmer of sunlight was filtering in through a tiny, near invisible window to her right. She sighed and shifted her position on the soft, squishy crimson couch so that her head was leaning against the arm. It was easier to read her book from that position, or try to read it anyway.

Her eyes were fixed on the same paragraph they had been since she had first opened the tomb nearly half an hour ago. Her mind refusing to concentrate on anything except the events of the previous night. She could still feel Tom's hands on her and how he had gently, but firmly propelled them across the floor. She remembered the heat on her face when she realized that she had called him by his given name rather than the more polite and formal surname. And that same question kept chasing itself in a circle across her mind. When had she begun to think of him as Tom? What event had caused that? She sighed loudly, exasperated at herself and pulled the book closer to her, as if that one motion would force her brain to start absorbing the words on the page and form them into a logical thought.

She stared at the words...and stared...and stared. Finally, with a little growl of frustration, she snapped the book soundly closed and tossed it onto the table. It landed with a sharp and heavy thud. She glared at it where it lay on the table, as if it were the book's fault that she could not concentrate on the words within. She ran a hand through her still smooth hair and looked around her. The brightness of the sunlight told her that it must have been about noon now, but she didn't dare go down for lunch, lest Tom be there.

"Don't be daft, Hermione," she told herself, "You aren't going to go and starve yourself just because Tom Riddle will be in the Great Hall the same time you are."

With another sigh, she uncurled herself from the couch and headed for the Great Hall.


Hermione stood just outside of the oak doors of the Great Hall. She took a deep breath and released it, walking into the Hall and making a bee line for the Gryffindor table without so much as a glance toward the Slytherin one. She found Ron, and with an amused glance to his left, she also found a disgusted looking Minerva watching him as he shoveled food into his mouth. She smiled when she joined them.

"Good afternoon, Minerva," she said, "Ron."

"Aft'oon," Ron replied through a mouthful of chicken sandwich.

Minerva made a face, "Good afternoon, Hermione. We missed you at breakfast."

"I was in the library," Hermione replied.

"I see," Minerva grimaced as Ron stuffed half of another sandwich into his gob, "Honestly, Ronald, must you eat like an animal?"

Hermione laughed, "You might as well give up now. It's a bad job, trying to make him eat like a normal, civilized human being."

"What?" Ron asked after downing a goblet of pumpkin juice, "I'm hungry. Harry was looking for you, by the way."

"What for?" Hermione asked, helping herself to some chips.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged, "He didn't say."

"Well, where is he now?" Hermione asked after a very quick once-over of the Slytherin table.

"He left a couple of minuets ago," Ron shrugged, "Didn't tell me where he was going."

Hermione frowned. She looked back at the Slytherin table before she could stop herself. Tom wasn't there. Was he avoiding her, too?

"You two didn't see To...Riddle, by any chance, did you?" Hermione asked with feigned offhandedness.

"No," Minerva replied, "He wasn't at breakfast this morning. Are you looking for him?"

"No," Hermione said airily, "I was just wondering."

"You two disappeared last night," Ron said with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that, Ron," Hermione chastised.

"I wasn't looking at you in any particular manner," Ron replied hastily, throwing his hands up in submission.

"Nothing happened," Hermione replied, feeling like she needed to defend herself, "We just danced is all."

"Alright," Ron said, "Okay. Calm down."

"I am calm," Hermione near snapped as she stood up, "I'm going...somewhere else."

Ron looked after her as she stormed out of the Great Hall in immense confusion, "What did I do?"

He looked at Minerva who could only shrug in reply.


Hermione plopped down onto the couch in the Room of Requirement once more. What was wrong with her? She had just snapped at Ron for no particular reason. She buried her face in her hands and sighed. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She, Harry and Ron were supposed to be destroying Horcruxes, not trying to make Tom Riddle fall in love with her. Harry was supposed to defeat Voldemort, not her. She and Ron...she and Ron were supposed to finally be together, not Ron and Minerva, the way it seemed to be turning out. She leaned back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. She just wanted to go home.

The sound of the door closing made her yelp in surprise. She spun around on the couch, her wand aimed at the door. Harry looked back at her, his arms in the air to show her that he was unarmed. She lowered her wand with an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry, Harry," she laughed, "What happened to you?"

Harry looked as if he had just been manhandled, his jumper slightly askew and his hair even messier than normal. He walked toward her, rubbing his eyes from beneath his glasses and sunk down next to her.

"Rosier," Harry replied.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked.

"Rosier happened to me," Harry repeated, "Riddle was right, playing hard to get only peaked her interest. She's persistent, that one."

Hermione allowed herself to smile, "Just think, Harry, if we get stuck here, you just might end up as Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa's father."

Harry stared at her in abject horror.

"They'd turn out the better for it, I think," Hermione continued, "And Ron and McGonagall...what a smart pair they'll make."

"And you," Harry asked, an amused look in his eyes at the thought of Ron and McGonagall, "Who would you stay with?"

Hermione's smile slipped, "I don't know. I haven't found anyone of interest here just yet."

"But I think you have," Harry replied gently, "You disappeared last night. You and Riddle."

"After we danced I left," Hermione said sharply. "I guess he must have done, too."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"We danced," Hermione shrugged.

"And that caused you to run out of the Hall like you did?" Harry replied.

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, "But how did you...?"

"I was watching," Harry answered, "Just to make sure he didn't try to hurt you."

"He didn't hurt me," Hermione said softly.

"Then why did you run?" Harry asked, concern in his emerald gaze.

"It was the look in his eyes, Harry," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"He looked so...lost," Hermione whispered, "He looked so utterly hopeless...and it was that one look of...of desolation that frightened me more than any look of hatred or animosity ever could."

Hermione shook her head, "If you had just seen that look in his eyes...you would have fled too."

"It's working," Harry said gently.

Hermione looked away from him then, "This whole thing makes me sick to my stomach."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Why?" Hermione shouted, "Why? You're asking me to play with someone's heart, Harry! You are asking me to deliberately interfere with someone's emotions!"

"It needs to be done, Hermione," Harry replied calmly, "I know it sounds horrible but I truly believe that this is the only way to stop him."

"And what if he finds out it's all been a lie?" Hermione asked, "What then? He'll be so much worse if he finds out we've been lying!"

"I don't think..." Harry started.

"No, you don't think, Harry," Hermione looked back at him, her blazing brown eyes on his cool emerald ones, "You never do! You just blaze on in and make things up as you go! Well you can't do it this time. You can't."

"What do you want, then, Hermione?" Harry asked, the first note of aggravation leaking into his steady voice.

"I don't want to do it anymore," Hermione said, "I don't want to mess with his heart like that."

Harry stood up from the couch and walked toward the door, then. Hermione looked after him from her position on the couch.

"It's funny how you talk about it being a lie," Harry smiled humorlessly.

"What are you on about?" Hermione asked.

"Everything you've just said," Harry replied, "Everything about the lost, desolate look in his eyes...about how hopeless he looked..."

"What about it," Hermione asked, her heart beating fast in her chest.

"It sounds to me like you felt it yourself last night," Harry replied, "And I think that's what scared you, not only because he was feeling it, but because you were, too. That's what made you run last night. That's what's making you run still."

She gazed at him, silently cursing his inborn and annoyingly accurate perception. She opened her mouth to challenge his theory but he forestalled her by continuing.

"And that whole bit about not wanting to play with his heart," Harry continued, "You may try and trick yourself into thinking it's your sense of pity but it sound a lot like love to me."

Harry opened the door and stepped outside of it, poking his head back through, "He's been avoiding you, too, in case you were wondering."


Harry shook his head when he entered the Slytherin common room. Riddle was sitting by the fire, reading one of his text books. He and Hermione were so alike in their studious nature...and their unrelenting stubbornness. Harry took the seat opposite Riddle and watched him reading his book. It didn't take very long for Riddle to be annoyed by the metaphysical intrusion.

"What do you want, Evans?" Riddle asked as he flipped a page in his book.

"Aren't you hungry, Riddle?" Harry asked, "You haven't moved from that spot since 7:30 this morning."

"I hadn't noticed," Riddle replied, his eyes staring at a fixed spot on the page.

Harry had the distinct impression that Riddle wasn't actually reading the text, "Are you really reading that?"

"Yes," Riddle snapped, "And I'd like to get back to it, if you don't mind."

"I'll just go, then, shall I?" Harry said, standing up and moving to a different part of the room.

Riddle shifted in his seat and continued to stare at the book in his hands. Harry watched him surreptitiously from his new place on the couch in the middle of the room. Harry took out his Potions essay and began to work on it, using it as a ruse to stay in the common room. Hours passed and when Harry looked up from his nearly completed essay, he found Riddle still in the chair, staring down at the book. Harry sighed as he stood up and left the common room for dinner.


Tom watched Evans leave from the corner of his eye. The annoying little pest. How dare he interrupt his studying? Who did he think he was? And asking after his well being like that? What was that about? Acting like his friend. The very thought of it! And how irritating it was that he had accurately noticed that Tom hadn't actually been reading the book at all.

He hadn't been able to focus on his school work all day. The only thought in his mind seemed to be of Granger and the events that happened at the dance. He could still feel her in his arms, how graceful she was while they danced. How beautiful she was. As he thought of her, the vexatious prickling feeling in his stomach burned to life again. How he hated that feeling. How he hated that it would always spring up whenever she was around him. How he hated it when it had ended as he watched her vacate the Great Hall after their dance. How he hated the feeling of cold emptiness fill him as he watched her run out of the Hall, as he watched her run from him. Just what was wrong with him?

He placed his book in his lap and gazed at the fire that roared on in the mantle. The flames jumped and danced as he watched them, and the heat felt good on his body. The heat that reminded him so much of the one he felt radiating off of Hermione's body as the two of them had danced oh so closely together. It was a delightful feeling, a feeling that made him feel safe and comforted. With a realization so powerful that it made him jump with the shock of it, he found that he had never felt anything like it before in his entire life. He was also amazed to discover that he rather liked that feeling.

He turned his head toward the center of the room as his fellow house mates wandered in from dinner. He stood up and was making his way toward the dormitory when Evans trotted up to him, holding a large bundle in his hands.

"Riddle," Evans said as he held out the bundle, "This is for you. I thought you'd be hungry so I brought it down."

Tom took the bundle from Evans and opened it. It was filled with food. Tom looked back at Evans, careful that his face betrayed nothing of the astonishment that he felt. Evans watched him, seeming as though he were expecting Tom to lash out in anger at him. Tom's mouth quirked a bit in the corner, his version of a smile.

"Thank you, Evans," Riddle said and couldn't help feeling pleased when he saw Evans gape at him in surprise.

"No problem," Evans replied, walking past him into the dormitory.

Tom watched him go, and looked back down at the bundle of food in his hands. He felt himself smiled again and he headed back into the common room to eat. He didn't know why it was that Hermione and Evans were so nice to him, but he was kind of enjoying it. He glanced around the room, at all of the other Slytherin students who were so aloof and callow and couldn't help the feeling of aversion that was growing inside of him. He had never been less proud to be a Slytherin in all of his life.


2 May, 1998 (2:17 a.m.)

Ginny hurtled herself through a melee of curses. She had just dodged a jet of green light when the corridor in front of her vanished from sight as an explosion sent pieces of wall and glass raining down at her. She had just managed to protect herself from the waterfall of rumbled. As the dust cleared, she saw that the people who had been fighting behind her hadn't been so lucky. Bodies were strewn all over the remained of the corridor, some breathing, some not. She stood up, dusted herself off and began to turn away when the sight before her made her stop in her tracks.

Her mouth fell open as she watched the corridor repair itself right in front of her. The pieces of stone on the floor flew backwards and stacked itself again, the cracks filling themselves in to form a seamless unit once more. The shards of glass melted together to form whole windows and the people that had been blasted backwards sprang to their feet again. Everyone stared at each other in utter confusion. What was it that they were doing? The Death Eater's and Ministry officials who had been fighting each other slowly faded away as Ginny watched until the corridor was empty and whole. Ginny scratched her head in bewilderment, but she turned on her heel and ran in the opposite direction, where the sounds of battle could still be heard.