A/N:

Hello readers,
Here are some things I'd like to clarify. Dumbledore didn't actually trick Professor Dippet with the blank parchment. He had simply bewitched it to resemble Hermione's real credentials and reports. Since Dippet believed it, it gave Dumbledore another good reason to trust our heroine. I do hope you enjoy my story and would really, really love to hear your opinion of my chapters so far.

W.R

Chapter 10

Dark Corridors

...

Even though they were more than fifty years apart from their own time, Hermione, Harry and Ron still had to endure an excruciating full hour-and-a-half of droning from Professor Binns in History of Magic.

"This is torture," moaned Ron, who looked close to tears.

"Dumbledore put us in this class for a very good reason," muttered Hermione, who could barely keep her head off the table "we're supposed to spy on You Know Who, you know."

"I know," said Ron bitterly, "but it's not likely that he's going to leap onto a desk and start jinxing everyone, you know."

"Or have a seizure and roll around on the ground, foaming at the mouth," added Harry helpfully.

"Owl Rabies," said Ron, nodding knowingly.

"Not funny," hissed Hermione. "Now be quiet, and take your own notes! I need to watch him for a bit"

"I bet you do," muttered Ron.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"You like to look at him," Ron accused. "Because he is handsome"

"Well it's much better than looking at you!" retorted Hermione.

"Is there a problem?" asked Professor Binn's ghost in his dry, reedy voice.

"Not at all," muttered Hermione and Ron together.

As Binns droned on about the Warlock's Convention in the 1700's, Hermione spied on Riddle who was sitting three seats on her left staring fixedly at Binns, taking the occasional note.
Apparently, he didn't mind the droning as every other student did.

Persia Parkinson, who was sitting in front of him, turned her long blond head around to look at Riddle.
"Tom," she purred in a sing-song voice, "there's a Hogsmeade weekend notice on the bulletin this morning…"

"I know," Riddle whispered back. "I put it up there."

Hermione stifled a snigger as Persia turned pink, but recovered quickly.
She hitched up a sickening smile.
"Well, now that you already know all about it," she cooed, batting her long lashes. "Care to escort me?"

Riddle looked as though he was pondering.

"Well, it's in October, isn't it?" he said. "I would love to go…". Hermione saw Persia's face light up as if someone had cast Lumos on it.

"But," he continued, "it just so happens that it's up to the Heads to organize Halloween, and as a result I'm afraid it's going to be a hectic month—so, well…"

"You can't come then?" finished Persia, pouting.

He smiled apologetically. "I'd much rather accompany you to Hogsmeade than organize a silly little Halloween feast." Hermione snorted with uncontrollable laughter at Voldemort's obvious lie and managed to turn it into a hacking cough.

But oh is he good, thought Hermione, smiling as she watched Persia Parkinson's smug expression change to disappointment and to scandalized when she caught Hermione staring.

"Why don't you ask the new Head Girl to help you with your project?" she asked Riddle sweetly. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled, since she's taken an obvious delight to your refusal to go with me."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm. Tom Riddle propped an elbow on his desk angled his body slightly so he was facing her. His expression was inscrutable as he surveyed her through his grey eyes.

"I'm sure she is," he said with a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes and attempted a brave look of disdain. "Please, spare me," she retorted. "I'd rather eat goblin stools than go on a date with you." She heard Dean, Ron and Percivas whoop with laughter.

Riddle looked unconcerned, running a hand through his thick, dark hair.

"Whatever suits you," he murmured, turning his dark grey eyes back on Binns who cleared his throat and started on a new topic. Hermione grunted and grabbed her quill and began taking notes.

"I told you… you shouldn't be staring," whispered Ron. "Now he thinks you fancy him or something."

"Good call though," added Harry, "comparing him to stools. From what creature again?"

"Goblins," replied Hermione crossly and they laughed.

"Enriched with gobliny goodness," choked Ron, wiping away tears or merriment, "you kill me, Hermione."

"Be quiet, or I'll kill you for real," muttered Hermione irritably, trying to concentrate on Binns.

For the next fifteen minutes they took notes on History of Magic. It was desperately boring work, but Hermione was impervious to boredom; she had developed some sort of resistance to Binn's vacuum-like voice.

Hermione found herself stealing quick glances at Riddle and Persia, this time seething instead of observing.

...

When the bell rang for break, Hermione pulled Ron and Harry aside while Dean and Percivas headed towards Gryffindor tower.

"How did they take it?" she asked, referring to the two Gryffindors.

"Reasonable well" shrugged Harry, rubbing his arm. "I mean, they believe us and everything—asked us a bit about the future and all."

"Did you tell them that you were both related to them?" asked Hermione, worriedly.

"Yeah, but they worked it out for themselves," added Ron quickly. "I mean, you can't meet somebody who's almost a mirror image of yourself and not suspect."

"Actually," piped Harry, "since we looked so much like their dads, they thought we were illegitimate children—long lost brothers, you know, bastards."

"That's alright as long as they don't tell anyone," muttered Hermione.

"They gave us their word," said Harry cheerfully, misinterpreting her meaning deliberately, "they're our granddads, after all—they wanted so see us off safely!"

Ron nodded to the ceiling. "Care to try the Room of Requirement to find a way home?" he asked.

"No, not the brightest idea," said Hermione at once. "Snape used a spell to direct us into this particular time, I expect that if we tried, then we could end up in a limbo forever."

"Like the Middle Ages?" suggested Harry darkly. "When they burned witches at the stake?"

"So you can see where I'm heading," said Hermione, raising her brows.

"Dumbledore said he's onto it," assured Harry. "And he hasn't failed us yet"

They went outside in the glorious autumn sunshine towards Hagrid's hut.

"Oh, my," said Hermione, her hands flying to her cheeks. "I almost forgot that he should be fourteen!"

"Freshly expelled," said Ron, looking at Hagrid's smoking chimney.

"Wrongly accused though," added Harry, avoiding walking into a running second year. "Shall we knock?"

Hermione timidly knocked on the door. They waited for a few seconds and the sound of a pair of enormous boots emerged closer to the door and opened it and they gasped.

A much, much younger Hagrid appeared at the door; his face was smooth, round and rosy and his hair was slightly less longer and tangled.

"All righ' there, you three?" he asked gruffly. Harry was astounded that though his appearance looked bizarrely different, his voice sounded exactly the same!

"Hi Hagrid," they chimed. Hagrid the teenager looked confused.

Harry quickly said "We're new students here, and we thought we should get to know all the staff a bit. This is Hermione, that's Ron... and I'm Harry," he added before Hermione could stop him.
She elbowed him in the ribs. "Oh" he wheezed, "Ron and Harry are our, Er, nicknames—it's actually Jane, Severus and B-Barry," he muttered.

Hagrid smiled at them warmly. "Nice ter meet yer all," he said politely. "Come in fer a spot o' tea or summat," he waved them in.

"Bit funny to introduce yourself to someone who was supposed to know more about you than you do yourself at one time in your life, huh?" asked Harry as he stepped into Hagrid's cabin.

"Nice place, Hagrid" said Ron as he looked at the familiar surroundings, his eyes fell onto a small black puppy sitting on Hagrid's bed.

"Whoa, isn't that—"

"Fang," beamed Hagrid, as he laid down four mugs of tea and a plate of cakes. "I bought him off a breeder I met down by the village 'bout a fortnight ago."

Fang lifted his head from its black paws and hopped off the bed trotted towards Harry and sniffed the hem of his robes.

"I like him," laughed Harry, when Fang jumped onto his lab and drooled all over his robes.

"Like old times, eh?" winked Ron, eating a sponge cake and Hagrid smiled.

"So how do yer like Hogwarts, so far?" he asked Hermione. "Yer tha' new Head Girl, I gather?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, "I really like it here so far," she lied. "Everyone has been great and the classes were quite interesting".

"We've only had our first class this morning," reminded Ron. "Double History of Magic," he added and Hagrid groaned sympathetically

"Couldn't stand tha' subject, meself," he said bemusedly. "And you actually enjoy it?" he asked Hermione, incredulously.

Ron laughed "The only thing she likes in Binn's class is staring at Tom Riddle." Hermione kicked him under the table.

Hagrid's face darkened and they all knew why; Riddle had framed him last year for opening the Chamber of Secrets and setting Slytherin's monster on Muggleborns.

"So how come you live out here Hagrid?" asked Harry quickly. "I thought you'd still be living in the castle"

"Well," said Hagrid, who was obviously glad at the change in subject. "After I got expelled las' year, I asked Professor Dumbledore if I could live outside the' school in the grounds so I could look after the creatures and all after the old gamekeeper Burtlog retired, so now it's me and Ogg."

"Dumbledore built you this house?" asked Hermione in awe.

Hagrid smiled wistfully. "Shoulda bin kicked out of this school but he decided ter keep me as trainee gamekeeper and built me a cabin because he knew tha' I enjoyed going in ter tha' Forbidden Forest, see."

He looked almost tearful "Great man, Dumbledore, great man."

...

They spent a very enjoyable afternoon at Hagrid's and stayed there well until dinner, as there were no classes to go to for the rest of the day. When Hermione, Harry and Ron finally bid Hagrid goodbye and traipsed back to the castle, they were in very high spirits by the time they met their granddads at Gryffindor table.

"I'm so glad that we managed to meet Hagrid," said Hermione happily as she shoveled more mashed potatoes onto her plate. "I feel heaps better, knowing that he's happy as the new trainee gamekeeper"

"Yeah, so what if he got expelled?" said Ron chewing on a bit of steak and kidney pie. "Bloke's still going to end up teaching Care of Magical Creatures even after Riddle got him chucked out. What's wrong Hermione?" he asked, when she knocked over a jug of pumpkin juice.

"Oh, I forgot," she groaned, shutting her eyes in despair. "I have to patrol the corridors with him at eight!"

Ron clicked his tongue sympathetically and Harry leaned forward. "You don't think you could keep an eye out for where he hangs out, do you, Hermione?"

Hermione played with her fork absently; she had suddenly lost her appetite.

"Well, yes, I suppose if it's necessary. But remind me why I have to be the one tailing him?"

"Because it'd look really strange if he caught Harry and me staring avidly at him all the time," said Ron, "he'd think that we'd be disgusting perverts and tell everyone."

"It would blow our covers, completely," added Harry, taking a swig of juice.

"There's no need to worry about that since everyone already knows you and Ron are disgusting perverts," said Dean, his hazel eyes sparkling with mirth.

"But Ron and Harry are right," said Percivas. "You're a girl, so just pretend that you fancy him so he won't suspect that you're plotting his demise which will eventually change the world as a consequence."

Hermione pointed her finger at Percivas with a maddeningly superior expression at Ron

"See that?" said Hermione forcefully, jabbing a finger at him. "Percivas here realized that I was a girl and it only took him two days, while it has taken you Ron, three years to notice. How could you possibly say that you stem from the same ancestor?"

"That's besides the point," said Ron, his ears turning pink, "and you should really be focusing on Riddle instead of confusing us about your gender…"

Hermione threw her fork at his head, but Ron's Keeper reflexes allowed him to catch it inches before it struck his eyeballs. "Trying out for Keeper tomorrow," he informed them casually. "Harry's taking up Chaser, since Malfoy's team captain and Seeker of the team".

"I hate Quidditch," muttered Hermione.

...

When Hermione returned to her Dormitory, she found Riddle standing against the fireplace with his back to her, cold, poised and indifferent.

"Hello there, Mr. Melancholy," called Hermione blithely. "Careful or your robes might catch on fire like mine did last night."

Tom gave her an icy stare which was obviously suppose to quell her. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and walked right up to him.

What now? He wondered irritably. Tom had just endured one of the most excruciatingly boring days; an hour and a half of sodding History of Magic, was asked out by half a dozen of girls for the next Hogsmeade trip excluding Persia, piles upon piles of Charms homework, endless questions from that annoying naïve git Abraxas Malfoy about when the next Death Eater meeting will take place and what will be on the agenda…

And now—this.

He stiffened his shoulders when she tapped him there.

"Don't touch me," he snapped, moving an inch away. He saw Jane Granger's lips purse in annoyance.

"I was just tapping you on the shoulder," she snapped back. "You make it sound as though I'm Uncle Bob who lured you into an empty farm shack with the promise of candy and stories."

"What do you want?" he grounded through clenched teeth. And what the hell was she on about? He didn't have any uncles who molested him. Was she assuming that he was felt up as a child? Because if she did, Tom knew that he was likely to throw her head first out of the window.
Preferably when it was still closed.

"Well, I was about to say thank you," said Jane stiffly. "until you bit my head off" she muttered.

He felt his eyebrows rise. Well, whatever he thought she was going to say, it definitely wasn't this.

"Thank you for what?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Jane fidgeted a little with a little pebble on the mantle, avoiding his penetrating stare.

"For yesterday," she managed to say. "Thank you for, you know, taking me to the hospital wing."

Oh, thought Tom indifferently, that. He had completely forgotten about helping this little Gryffindor off the cold flagstones, but he suddenly wished that he had left her there.

"I'm Head Boy," he said curtly. "It would've looked rather unfavorable on my part if I didn't assist a student who was unconscious"

He saw Jane Granger's face crumple in annoyance at his brusque words, and perhaps— disappointment?

"Well," Hermione said finally, straightening her robes and avoiding his eyes. "Should we start patrolling? Only, I want to get to bed early because I have a full day on my timetable tomorrow."

"As you wish," Riddle said haughtily and strode out the portrait hole without another word, Hermione hot on his heels.

…………

"Alright," Tom said rather bossily, sparing the small brunette a glance beneath his dark lashes once they'd reached the middle of the fifth floor corridor. "You may take the upper floors while I patrol at the lower ones."

He saw a flicker of a grin across the dratted girl's face.

"What," he said, glowering, "is so funny?"

"You're forgetting that I'm new here," she said sweetly, crossing her arms. "How on earth am I to know where to patrol? For all I know, I could wind up in Hogsmeade instead of Charms classroom."

Tom swore under his breath.

"Fine," he said in a voice of forced calmness. "I shall give you a quick tour of the school and its shortcut passageways, then we shall resume to our post as said before."

"Alright," she said cheerfully, "where should we start, the library?"

She waited for him to go first, so Tom strode irritably in front of her and walked at a very brisk pace in the hope of Jane giving up on the tour and resigning to head back to the dorms.

Twenty seconds after this blissful thought, he heard a small clatter of footsteps as she panted behind him.

"You know," Jane said conversationally. "It's considered rude to storm off on a person who you've promised to give a tour to."

"You know," he ground out when she stepped on the back of his heel. "That you are a menace to this school, Granger?"

Jane stopped walking and Tom smirked, thinking that he had won.

"If I hadn't realized that your comment was a pitiful attempt at humor, I would have died of shock," she said cuttingly.

"That wasn't a joke," he told her over his shoulder.

"Not to you," she replied, folding her arms. "But between you and me, the only joke here is you."

Tom whirled around and his icy eyes turned to steel.
"And what," he said coldly, "Do you mean by that?"

He saw the wench jut her chin out. "You think you're so superior to everyone and it makes me sick," she spat. "You try to terrorize everyone just like how you like to intimidate me. You are a selfish, power-hungry tyrant—I hope you and your Death Eaters rot in Azkaban for what you did to Hagrid!"

Riddle paled and his whole body went rigid.

Hermione's eyes rounded as she gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth.
Oh God, she thought wildly, I've just said it; I've just said the one thing that's going to blow our cover!

Without thinking, Hermione turned on her heel and raced past him around the corner, praying that he didn't attempt to hurtle after her. He's going to murder me, she thought, not knowing whether to laugh or scream in terror; he's going to torture me until I spill the beans—

Hermione found a shortcut to the seventh floor through a portrait.

"Starshine!" she whispered and it swung open. Hermione panted heavily as she quickly darted along the corridor towards the Fat Lady's portrait, hoping to seek refuge in there for the rest of the year.

But the sound of brisk footsteps chilled her blood and she dove behind a large tapestry a few feet from her prospective sanctuary.

Hermione crouched on the ground and waited for the sound of Riddle's footsteps to fade.

Thankfully, they did.

Hermione let out a rush of air.
After peeping through the tapestry to ensure that she was well alone, Hermione decided at once that she needed to find Harry and Ron to tell them about her wretched slip up.

It took Hermione a surprisingly short amount of time to manage her way down to the dark, dank cold dungeons.

"I am such an idiot," she muttered to her self. "A complete, utterly—".

Footsteps sounded and Hermione dove into a bright red tapestry and crouched on the ground in the hollow of the wall waiting again, until—

"Good evening, Miss Granger," said a velvety smooth voice.

Hermione choked on a laugh and gasp at the same time and turned around to face Riddle, who towered over her, his size positively frightening.
The predatory glint in his eye caused Hermione's heart to double its rapid hammering.

"I must confess, I did not expect you to turn up in such a dismal meeting place," he murmured, and to her utter surprise, he slid down in front of her until they were eye to eye and whispered

"Tell, me," he said, eyeing her closely.

"How do you know what my friends are called?"

...

After that infernal girl had dashed off, her bushy brown hair whipping the side of his face, Tom had remained motionless for a good minute or two.

How on earth did she know what he called his 'devoted friends?' he wondered, outraged.
Determined to find out, Tom followed her around the bend of the corridor.

He caught fleeting whiff of scent as she darted around him; roses and the unmistakable aroma of honeysuckle from her hair. 'Unmistakable, indeed,' he thought furiously, rubbing his chiseled jaw where her flying hair whacked him.

It really wasn't that difficult to tail her; he could hear her loud panting from an entire corridor away, Tom thought he saw her brown hair as a portrait slid shut.
'Oh, the Gryffindor tower,' he thought smugly. 'How predictable'.

"Starshine," he said to the portrait firmly and it slid open.

A moment later, when he found himself several floors above the library, he heard a small clatter of footsteps. With a small growl of satisfaction, he crept slowly around the corner, like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting prey, where he was sure to find that insufferable Granger girl.

"What the?" he muttered when he saw that the corridor was empty. Tom frowned; obviously she had sought refuge in the common room, which left him quite irritated.

'This is getting really juvenile,' he thought in disdain. It was getting late, and he had a lot of work to do before dawn and several corridors to wander around. Taking one last look at the portrait in contempt, he turned on his heel and strode towards the staircase.

'Maybe I'll just call it a night,' he mused. 'I've already patrolled most of the corridors already, thanks to Granger'. Of course, it had only really been about four corridors, but Tom thought that four and seventy-four were close enough.

Yawning, he wandered contentedly through the wonderful Trophy Room and gazed at the evidence of accomplishments as he passed, the golden House Cup and medals garnished in various assorted silks of greens, blues, reds and yellows.
'Hmmm, we could really do with another House Cup in our collection this year' he said with a smirk, looking at the large assembly of gleaming large golden cups.

After another few seconds of observing the list of Head Boys on the plaque with his name at the very top, Tom decided that it was high time to organize a gathering with his so-called friends. Unfortunately, he hadn't yet found a more efficient way to contact them without going into the Slytherin common room.
With that in mind, he departed towards the dungeons in deep contemplation.

He was thinking gleefully of ways to terrorize the new Head Girl. But something she had said before swam back into his head "…you're a selfish power-hungry tyrant". He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

Just as he glided down to the steps to the hidden Slytherin door, he heard a muffled sound and a ripple in a red tapestry on the right-hand side of the narrow passage.

'Well, that's was unexpected,' he thought, baffled for a second... but delighted by his luck.

Tom smirked and crept through a green tapestry right beside, leading behind the one that Jane Granger was currently hidden beneath, crouched, with her back facing him; she was obviously trying to avoid—no, escape from him. He heard her rapid, incoherent mumbling under her breath in a tight voice.

'Good,' he thought darkly. 'She should be terrified of what's about to come'.

He purposely loomed over her, enough to cause a long shadow to appear in front of her.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said in his most pleasant voice.

He heard Jane Granger choke on a gasp and what sounded like a laugh of disbelief and turned around to face him. Her glowing honey-brown eyes were as wide as saucers as they traveled slowly up to his face.

"I must confess," Tom said softly as his firmly molded lips curving to a hint of a mocking smile,
"I did not expect you to turn up in such a dismal meeting place".

He saw her jaw drop and her face turn a shade paler.
'That should show her who's in charge,' he thought with immense satisfaction.

Tom felt like terrorizing her so badly that the next time Granger saw him, she'd run screaming in the opposite direction. But something prickled in his mind that made him stop— there was something about her wide, toffee colored eyes and the way her lips parted in shock that made her seem, almost, well…

Much to his surprise Tom abandoned his plan or scaring Jane Granger out of her wits and slid into a crouch in front of her.

He leaned in very close to the Head Girl.
"Tell me," he whispered silkily. "How do you know what my friends are called?"

He saw her face had change from pale shock to confusion.

Then to his amazement, she smirked.

"Magic," she whispered wickedly.
And without warning, she stood up so quickly that the top of her head crashed into his chin and bolted.

Her eyes may be watering, but Hermione thought it was worth it to see Riddle crumple in pain.

She ripped her way from behind the red tapestry and ran madly to a deserted corridor of the dungeons. Behind her she could hear very fast footsteps, coldly assuring her that Lord Voldemort was after her blood.
Hermione stumbled over a crack in the ground and caught her other foot in a cobbled stone used to trick unwitting students. She heard his footsteps low into a leisurely pace and felt her blood chill.

Gasping for breath, Hermione frowned as she saw that there were a group of third years in front of them staring at the unusual sight of the Head Girl and Head Boy, emerging from around the corner, one of them panting as though she had run a mile.

Hermione's face colored as the third years giggled

"What are you lot doing down here?" she demanded hotly, putting her hands on her hips, despite still having her foot caught in the ground.
"Get back to your own common rooms, or it'll be twenty points off Hufflepuff!"

Right, that got them going, she thought gleefully as the third years scampered away in a hurry.

"What is the matter with you?" demanded Riddle softly, emerging in front of her, rubbing his jaw. "You act as though you wish to make the rest of my year miserable!"

Hermione shrugged and he moved closer to her.
His face was dimly illuminated by the torches in the dungeon, throwing the rest of his features in darkness.

"Tell me," he said slowly, his eyes glittering from the flames. "Why are you determined to hate me so?"

Hermione felt her mouth fall open; since when did Voldemort care what she thought?

"Er, well…" she stammered, unnerved by his blunt question. "It's just…I've been warned about you…and I don't think my friends would be comfortable about our current situation, right now… come to think of it."
Why was she blabbering like a ninny?
Hermione stared imploringly at him, hoping that he would stop looking at her with his smoldering grey eyes and leave her in peace to work her foot away from the dratted trick cobblestone on the ground.

Tom narrowed his eyes slightly, it didn't make much sense, but he somehow got the gist of what she was saying. Or was trying to, anyway.

'This should be fun,' he thought with a wicked tilt of his lips as he edged very, very slowly towards her while he murmured in a low, sultry voice.

"So," he smiled, inching towards the small Head Girl, making her take an involuntary step back. "To my understanding, these friends of yours... are against you becoming acquainted with me... is that right?"

She paled and nodded resentfully, biting her red lips. His eyes glinted.

"And they entreated that they did not want us to be quite alone, am I correct?" he murmured, taking another step closer.

The brunette nodded again as she leaned against the wall as far as her stuck foot would allow.
.He slowly closed the space in between them, trapping her. He noticed with satisfaction at little Jane's discomfort at their decadent proximity.

He smiled a slow, predatory smile.
"Then I wonder what they would say... about this?"

Jane looked very worried and her eyes were becoming glazed as though she was pondering hard.

Tom smirked and moved his face closer to hers, their bodies barely a foot away from touching.

"Do you know what I think they'd say to this?" he murmured. She paused, and then shook her head frantically.

He smiled and leaned in to her.
"They'd tell you," he whispered "to be very, very, afraid..."

He saw Jane's eyes widen and her flushed lips pressed tightly together as if she was holding in something. He noticed that her shoulder rose slightly and—

She burst out laughing.

Right in his face.

Riddle didn't look remotely impressed. Hermione's entire body shook with irrepressible laughter.

"Oh dear Godric!" she chortled. "That was funny."

He drew back from her and folded his arms.

She straightened up while still laughing merrily

"I'm so sorry," she choked. "But you really shouldn't be so, well, melodramatic—it just doesn't suit you".

Riddle gave her a very dark look.

"Well, maybe it does," she amended. "You looked very dangerous and overwhelmingly handsome" she added with a chuckle. "I gather that this was your desire?"

Voldemort still looked quite dangerous at the moment, being so silent that it unsettled her.

But Hermione gave him a warm grin.

"You know, if it makes you feel any better, I'm certain that that would've worked on any other girl," she told him genially, giving him a friendly pat on the arm. "Or boy for that matter—but that's not the reason why my friends have warned me against you".

"Then what was?" he said, arching a brow.

"Just that you're a bit on the Dark side and all," said Hermione, shrugging. "And I'm not talking about a suntan. You're fascination for it is apparently part of your mystique."

"Its part of my identity," he said softly, his eyes resembling icicles.

Suddenly Tom Riddle looked more dangerous than she had ever seen him tonight.

"Oh," stammered Hermione, lost for words, "well, then I suppose—"

"—I think I've wasted enough time with you," interrupted Riddle, his eyes hardening.
"So if you will excuse me, I have urgent business to attend to. One that doesn't involve the likes of impertinent fools."

Hermione watched in fascination as he strode away down the dimly-lit corridor, black robes billowing out, making him look like a very forbidding Severus Snape.

But before he rounded off a corner, Riddle called over his shoulder, his tone arctic.

"I trust that you'll be able to give yourself a tour, seeing how you have demonstrated sound knowledge of this school's shortcuts. Probably the only type of knowledge you possess, come to think of it."

Hermione simply crossed her arms and glared at his back, wishing he would trip over his robes and break his nose.

...