Author's Note: This chapter is shorter, I know, but remember, I wrote it all from scratch this time! Also, please let me know if you spot any mistakes or typos or whatnot, as I've also written all of this tonight, in the last hour or so. I hope you enjoy this; it's in a completely different direction than last time, and I personally prefer it.

Hermione cornered Tom Riddle in the common room, waiting around until everyone else had left; she didn't want an audience for this. She made no attempt to approach him casually, as her intentions would likely be just as obvious no matter how she tried to present herself. As soon as the room was clear but for the two of them, she walked up to where he was studying, hands on her hips in the most obviously aggressive manner she knew. "What was that at dinner?" she asked, with no prelude. He looked up, seeming surprised though she was certain that he had known the instant she had started walking.

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. That thing with Charles. What do you think you're doing?"

"I was having a conversation, thank you very much."

"You threatened him. I know you did."

"I did no such thing. I simply informed him that I approve of your schoolwork; how is that a threat?"

She sighed. "Just stay out of my affairs in the future," she said at last. She stood next to him for a moment longer before, sensing no response, she walked away.

"I don't think you should be associating with him," he said suddenly, when she had almost reached the door to her dormitory. She turned around.

"Since when does it matter who you think I should be associating with?"

"I know these people better than you do, Jane. You don't even know who he is."

"I know enough to prefer his company to yours," she said almost rebelliously. Hearing the tone of her voice, she reminded herself that she had no long-standing grudge against the Tom Riddle of this time, and that he had no power over her that she was to rebel against. She softened her tone to one of curiosity when she asked, "Why shouldn't I be associating with Charles?"

"He's not good for you," he stated simply.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that he's not good for you. I saw you today in classes; you were hardly paying attention at all, thanks to him. You're too intelligent to be risking your grades on someone like that."

"You cannot tell me that you are seriously concerned for the future of my marks."

"I said it at dinner, Jane. You have a serious chance of earning second highest marks in our year. And I'd like to see that happen."

She saw her opportunity. She didn't want to take it, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and wake up fifty years later, but she didn't know when else the opportunity would present itself, when would be the next time they were coexisting peacefully in a room, not shouting or threatening or arguing or ignoring each other. He seemed almost genuine, though she knew she would never be able to tell when he wasn't. She took the chance. She had no choice.

"Then does your offer still stand?" she asked impulsively.

He smiled. A rare smile, not sarcastic or mocking or cruel. "Can you keep your temper this time?"

She blushed slightly, a reaction she wasn't expecting. "I apologize," she forced herself to say. "I'm afraid I wasn't feeling quite myself."

"Then yes, my offer still stands."

"Thank you." Again, the words felt wrong in her mouth. She didn't want to be thanking him for anything. "I'll see you in the morning then?" she asked, knowing quite well that she would see him in the morning, and in the afternoon, and in the evening, and if she were feeling particularly unlucky, perhaps even in her dreams.

"Always."

He could be quite the charmer, she thought, when he tried. In fact, if she didn't know far too well exactly what he was capable of, she might even consider falling for him. Instead, she had to play along with his little games, allowing him to charm her to his heart's content, but always reminding herself that none of it was ever for real, that he would kill her in a heartbeat if he ever found out what she was trying to do.

Or would he? She considered this point as she laid in bed, waiting for sleep to come. His goal is obvious…but how dear to him is it? Would she be able to change his mind? If he wouldn't, she realized, nothing she could do short of convincing the house elves to poison his pudding would do any good. In theory, if this had any chance of succeeding, she should be able to tell him exactly who she was and exactly why she was there, and he should agree that it was a good idea, and it should work regardless. However, even were that to be her eventual plan, she knew that it was still far too early to try something like that; she would have to work on getting closer first, convincing him that she was worth his time.

She already seemed to have gotten his attention fairly well; even when he was pointedly ignoring her, he was apparently watching her rather closely. It should have unnerved her, and truly it did for a moment, but she knew that it was for the best; having his attention was far better than not, and she had a lot of his attention if he knew how she spent her classes.

Having his attention, it seemed the next logical step would be to first maintain it. He said he liked that she was doing well in her classes, and so she knew that she was going to have to devote more time to studying than ever in order to impress him. If she couldn't manage at least second best marks in their year, he would be disappointed, and would likely stop paying attention to her. She didn't believe it possible to beat his marks, but if she could, that would certainly spark his interest.

Maybe she could see him outside of the typical classes, meals, and tutoring eventually; she would of course have to let him ask – it was the forties, after all – but it could get his attention even more, potentially in something other than a purely academic light. Thinking about it, she realized that more likely than not if she could get to that point with him, she would have won. If she could be interesting enough to take a break from homework, studying, and the quest for world domination, she had a chance at being interesting enough to give up the world domination quest more permanently.

So it all boiled down to homework – books and cleverness were her strong points, as she pointed out her first year. Strange that after all this, after all they'd gone through, it wasn't bravery or loyalty or a willingness to sacrifice; it was writing essays and taking tests and reading books that mattered now. Harry and Ron had been wrong after all.

She felt better, having figured all this out. Confident that all she had to do was perform well in class (and not attack Tom Riddle), she knew that she could do it. She tried to relax further, and to keep all thoughts of Tom Riddle far from her mind as she felt sleep begin to overtake her.