The lies we tell Ourselves

"What are you?" Hermione whispered softly, her voice barely audible. Tom was only briefly caught off guard, her blank stare quickly shifted into a smirk that could almost be identified with a certain Malfoy family. Tom could feel his strength waning, he knew he only had seconds with her.

With perfect Riddle prestige, he whispered, "I am Tom Riddle" before he faded away. Hermione sat perfectly still, continuing to stare into the place where he had stood a moment before.

Tom Riddle hadn't moved either. His gaze never faltered although his smirk had long since faded. Something kept him drawn in, kept him staring. Hermione's eyes were wide and bright, her breath as shallow as a puddle. He wanted to say something else, something meaningful, just... something at all.

He had been there; she had felt his breath on her neck as had written her name in the diary. She had felt his presence; she knew that he had been there. Didn't she?

Her body began to quiver softly before she eventually broke down and cried. Tears streamed down her face as she sought to figure out what was going wrong. If Tom was real then she wanted to help him, she wanted to be with him.

Because, she knew that if Tom wasn't real… she had a very... big problem.

Unexpectedly, there was a loud noise and swearing. Hermione instinctively shoved the diary under the couch cushion. She turned around to see Neville reaching down in the open portal to pick up his fallen books. He looked like a mess; his hair had obviously been retained by a hat for quite sometime as a large crease went across his forehead.

The fat lady was oddly silent compared to the previous encounter with one another; she was probably off sulking in another painting. Neville was wearing his usual rumpled uniform but instead of his usual rugged shoes he wore a pair of new leather dress shoes.

"Hello, haven't seen you for a few days. Heard you got kicked out of Snape's class." When she didn't respond he looked up from his stack of books.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" As he approached her he saw her tear stained face and his casual facade faded. Hermione gasped before turning away and rubbing her face dry.

"Fine, just reading a sad story that's all," she managed to get out with some amount of calm. Neville's gaze darkened as he walked over to the table to set his books down.

"Hermione," he started not quite sure what to exactly say. "If there is something bothering you, you know you can always tell me." He walked over and sat next to her on the little couch which only seemed to add to the tension. Hermione couldn't help but tense up as he reached over and touched her hand. Instinctively she jerked her hand back before looking up and forcing out a small smile.

"I am just a little under pressure right now. I think I'm having a little melt down." She shrugged hoping that her lie came across truthfully enough. Neville slowly pulled his hand back, doubtfulness written all over his face.

"Is someone bothering you? I've been hearing some of the girls telling stories of you screaming and running about. I am worried about you."

Hermione didn't know what to say, the truth would only bring her more problems. She could easily picture herself being dragged off to St. Mungo's with Neville waving and telling her it would be alright. No, there was no way she was going to tell him that.

"Its just stress Neville, I've gotten overwhelmed with all of my studying for the N.E.W.T.S." She showed a bigger smile this time and prayed that he would just go away.

Neville sat for a moment just looking at her. Please believe me Neville; just let me figure it out first.

Eventually he sighed and stood up. "Hermione… just stay safe. Goodnight." He quickly gathered his books before heading to the boys dormitories. Hermione let out a sigh and relaxed before picking up and looking at the diary.

Hermione ran her fingers across the decorative gold lettering and flipped through the empty pages. She let out a long sigh before she even dared to pick up and start writing again. However, this time when she opened the book a message was already being written in eloquently scrolled handwriting.

'Look out the window.' Hermione hesitantly put the book down and turned towards the outer wall. Rain gently patted against the glass against the dark moonless night. Slowly she got to her feet and quietly walked over to the closest window. Hermione felt a sudden chill and couldn't help but notice her goose bumps as she approached the dark glass.

Slowly her reflection came into focus. When she was about an arms length from the window she stopped. She hadn't noticed how she was barely breathing until Tom Riddle appeared behind her. Hermione choked back a yelp as she turned around to look into the empty space behind her. Tom wasn't there; he only existed in the reflection at that moment.

Turning back to the mirror Hermione nervously smiled. Upon seeing Hermione's calmer demeanor emerge Tom couldn't help but smile a soft Malfoy-esque smile.

"Hermione," she saw him say but only heard the faintest whisper.

"Yes Tom?" She whispered back as she saw him reach out and touch the side of her face. She could feel the slightest of touches as though a feather had brushed across her cheek.

"You aren't crazy; it will all be understood soon." And with that he walked away before anything else could be said.

-----

The next morning Hermione arouse with an energy she had not felt for a while. After the mini meltdown that she had experienced the night before, she felt as though the world had been reopened for her. Tom was safe in her school bag and as far as she was concerned it was going to be a good day.

Neville was waiting for her at breakfast a little more morose then usual. Ginny was off with her friends while Ron and Harry were arguing about quidditch.

"Hi Harry. Hello Ron." Hermione had smiled and happily walked past them waving. The entire group of students surrounding them turned to face her and her obvious turn of emotion. Neville didn't quite share her enthusiasm.

"So why are you so happy this morning?" He had asked with a mopey tone as he ate his eggs.

"Well, after talking to you last night I just felt better." Hermione found herself lying too easily to her friend. However, Neville's mood seemed to lift a little as he drank his glass of milk. "What are you planning on doing today?"

Neville shrugged, "I think I'm going to head down to the green houses to help out with the first years. They never seem to understand what to do." He avoided Hermione's gaze as he scarfed down the rest of his meal. "Anyway, I've got a paper I have to finish so I'll see you after class."

Hermione felt a pang of guilt as she watched Neville walk away. Her reaction the night before to him touching her probably hadn't been the best. Well, she thought, there's no use worrying about it right now.

In potions, Snape was the first to notice her upbeat mood as he slunk around the classroom judging his students.

"Miss Granger," he announced when he reached her seat.

"Professor." She responded without missing a beat. Snape paused for a moment looking at the ceiling before he responded.

"Miss Granger, why have you not added the ground flaghorn?"

Hermione stopped and examined the instructions before flushing. She had never made such an elementary mistake before. They had started the potions over a week before hand and the flaghorn had been part of the initial step. Her potion should have been a crystal slate color, not a dreary grey.

"Miss Granger. This assignment was to be finished by the end of the week, you have failed to achieve so far and it is very doubtful that you..." Snape's voice faded away as Hermione stared into space. She had become so distracted by everything that she had, for the first time in her life, gotten buried alive by her school work. Well, in any case it was the first time that she ruined a potion so drastically.

Transfiguration didn't go much better, but it wasn't a disaster like potions had been. It really went rather well but Hermione had become so self conscious at that point that she tried to put on a know-it-all face to hide it. This only managed to irritate those around her, which didn't matter to much but it was frustrating.

During lunch, Hermione didn't meet up with Neville like she had originally intended to do. Instead she went outside into one of the empty courtyards to sort through her thoughts. The cool fall air whisked around the courtyard sending leaves fluttering in circles and the smell of autumn entered Hogwarts.

Tom slinked around the halls following her to the deserted enclosure. Although it had only been a day, he was already starting to feel weak. He longed for the power he felt when he was flooded with ink. Hermione hadn't even looked at the diary since the night before. Like an addict, he was already craving for her to pull out a quill.

Neville will understand, he probably won't even miss me too much.

Hermione fought to ease her guilty mind as she sat down on an old stone bench. Hermione brushed her hair behind her ears and pulled her books unto her lap. As she flipped through her pile she couldn't help but sigh in sadness.

Tom was becoming a distraction. She wasn't behaving like she used to, she was slacking in her school work. This was not her; she was an intelligent individual who could do anything she wanted to. She almost felt as though she had to prove to everyone that she wasn't just a mudblood like the boys called her. It was such a foul name to describe what she was.

She looked down at the diary and sighed. A very minute part of her was almost ashamed of where she had come from. Years of being teased can really affect how you look at yourself. That was one of the few downsides to Hogwarts, everyone knew everything about everyone since they all grew up together. Couldn't they just look at her and call her a witch like she was?

She didn't feel the need to tell Tom, she enjoyed having a friend who didn't judge her. It was always an underlying sensation; she always felt that they all judged her for it. That was why she always tried so hard to be good at everything. She was naturally smart, smarter then anyone she knew for that matter. But she combined her intelligence with sheer willpower to succeed and that is what made her so successful. She wanted Tom to see who she was, not what she was.

Tom tried to reach up and touch a falling leaf but passed right through him. He was too weak to be able to move things in the physical world. Although he still had enough energy to travel into her world and back to his he didn't want to waste his energy.

Hermione pulled out a bottle of ink and slowly opened the diary's pages.

'Tom, I saw you last night.' Hermione chose to take a coy approach to the situation.

Tom smirked and sat down next to her.

'I see you right now, Hermione.' Hermione inhaled sharply and looked away. The idea of him being around her unseen made her blush and feel self-conscious. A small awkward smile passed over her face as Tom pondered what to say. He liked to see her slightly unnerved, it was much more appealing then when she was flipping out. But, he decided to ask her permission in a round about sort of way. Not that it really mattered to him if she didn't want him around, she would never know if he didn't want her to.

'Would you rather me go away?' He wrote across the page in unusually small writing.

"No!" Hermione instantly reacted to his obvious attempt at bashfulness. She had shrieked a little more loudly then she intended to and her hands were swiftly there to cover her red face. Tom felt a chill go down his spine after hearing her response.

It was so strange what fifty lonely years could do to you. He was still him; he wasn't that much different then he had been when he first entered the book. Fifty years of loneliness could make a person crave a connection. He usually did a very good job at keep up an air of superiority around others. But, for once in his life he didn't seem to notice that he longed to have someone to talk to.

'Hermione?' He asked pretending that he hadn't heard to spare her the embarrassment.

It took her a moment, but she smacked her hands across her face just to make sure she was awake.

'No, Tom, I enjoy...' She paused for a moment unsure as to what she should say. 'I enjoy your company very much.'

Tom smiled at her small confession. Perhaps he would soon be strong enough to appear to her again. It would take even less time if Ron would get his jobs done. Minions were much easier to control when you actually existed to control them.

'Tom, I need to study. I will talk to you tomorrow.' Before he could respond, Hermione had already closed the diary and pulled out a textbook. There would be no more ink from her that evening, he would have to search elsewhere. Perhaps the Slytherin common room is a good place to start...

And for the first time since he had emerged from the book, Tom Riddle left his diary behind to those who would do his bidding.