Disclaimer: I am not the great and powerful JK Rowling; thus I do not own anything [other than the plot] that you may recognize…

A/N: Fourier's Flaw finally has a trailer AND a poster! It's on my homepage [close to the bottom], if you care to view it. And, as always, thank you for reading.

Sunday, November 12, 1944

"So…what do you think?" Hermione heard Peter ask her worriedly over the table. Hermione set her newspaper down on the table to give Peter a questioning look. "You weren't listening were you?" She looked at him apologetically as Hannah walked briskly towards them.f

"You won't guess who just asked me to the ball," she said merrily. Peter looked disgruntled as Hannah made him move farther down the table, away from Hermione.

"Who?" Hermione asked with a smile. Hannah clapped her hands together like a little kid and leaned across the table, "Evan Cleaver. I've been crushing on him for two years now, and he finally figured it out."

"I remember him," Hermione said, trying to laugh along with this gleeful Hannah. She stood up quickly, "I just wanted to tell you that. I'm off to meet my Evan." She squealed happily and quickly strolled down the table side, ignoring the inquiring looks from Ravenclaw's. It was more than obvious that half the school already knew about Evan and Hannah; Evan, the Ravenclaw Seeker and Captain for two years, was now dating 'that chirpy Ravenclaw", as she was now called.

Hermione was sure that within hours rumors would be spreading that she had slipped him a love potion. She let her mind trail away from the thought as she turned her attention back to the sulking Peter, who had taken the chance to move back into his rightful place while Hermione had been watching Hannah walk away. "What were you saying, Peter?"

"I was wondering if…" Peter said, only stopping to choke back saliva. "If you wanted to go to the ball with me. It's next Friday night, I wasn't sure if Hannah had told you or not." He added the last part in hastily as he tapped his hands nervously on the table, fully unaware that his other hand was submerged in his pudding.

"Oh…" Hermione said, still looking at Peter's pudding-ed hand. "Well, actually Peter, I don't think…I think it would be better if the two of us didn't, you know, travel down that road again." She looked up to see Peter's face sag. She wasn't sure if it had to do with her response or the fact that he had just realized where his hand had been placed. He quickly wiped it off on his pants. "I mean, I wouldn't want to loose our friendship Peter. Besides, I'm not really the ball type, you know that."

Peter nodded his head and shoved the plate of food towards the middle of the table, mumbling an "I'll see you later" as he picked himself up off the bench and sauntered down the Great Hall. Hermione saw Harry, Ron and Ginny walk pass him and noticed Ron laugh as they were within talking distance of her.

"I'm guessing he took the blow a bit too hard, Hermione," he laughed as he shoved Peter's pudding bowl aside. He grabbed a clean bowl beside Hermione and piled it with food. Harry and Ginny sat down on each side of him, looking at her worriedly.

"Oh shut up Ron," Hermione said peering down at her newspaper again. Ginny peered over at it, "No news as to where your father is yet?" Hermione shook her head regretfully; she had hoped Grindelwald would have left the slightest hint as to where he was. He hadn't even committed a crime within the past few weeks, or at least no one had evidence that he had.

"He'll turn up," Harry said with a quick nod. "Listen, Vol…" Ron shoved his elbow into Harry's side before he could finish. Harry continued his statement while rubbing his bruised ribs. "Riddle hasn't been around lately, has he?"

"He got back on Friday, Harry," Hermione said with a frown. "You were there." Harry nodded his head, "I know, but the Slytherin team was suppose to have practice yesterday. He never showed up."

"That doesn't mean he's left Hogwarts again," Hermione said flicking the side of her newspaper. "I'll check, just to make sure, but Riddle tends to stay in his room during the weekends. And I'm sure he had no idea about the practice, since he's been gone all week. They probably flew an extra, or whatever you call it in Quidditch."

"An extra?" Ron said, looking at Hermione in horror. "You shouldn't even try to understand Quidditch Hermione; your book brain just won't get it." Ginny hit him, "Can you at least try to act your age?" Ron rolled his eyes and returned to his half eaten bowl of food.

"Anyways, what happened?" Harry asked urgently as he peered around the Great Hall. "What did you and Riddle talk about?" Ginny looked inquiringly at Hermione, and Ron even put down his fork to listen.

"He didn't tell me where he went," Hermione said awkwardly. "But he gave me that book of his, do you remember it Harry?" Harry nodded his head, having heard all about the mysterious book the week previous. Ginny and Ron, who had never heard of it, were quickly informed of its existence by Harry.

Hermione peered around the Great Hall as he did so; she didn't want to be overheard by the Slytherin's. More importantly, Riddle. She was sure he was still locked up in his room, but she scanned the hall just to make sure. She noticed Malfoy and Lestrange talking in a group with Nott, Avery and, if Hermione wasn't mistaken, Carrow. She only had a minute to look for Dolohov and the other Death Eaters before Harry turned his attention to her again. "So the book then, what was in it?"

Hermione peered guiltily at the three of them, "I haven't read it." All three of them reacted differently, Ginny simply rolled her eyes, Harry sighed and buried his head in his hands, but it was Ron's reaction that got the attention of Malfoy. "WHAT? Why wouldn't you…" He threw his hands up in the air, completely oblivious to the fact that half the hall had turned towards him.

Ginny was trying to shove his hands down, completely annoyed by his reaction as much as she was. "Sit down Ron," she continued repeating angrily. Harry didn't seem to care about the commotion anymore; he was staring straight at Hermione, who couldn't bring herself to look at him. "Why?" she heard him ask quietly, though it was obvious that anything apart from Ron's screaming was listed as whispering.

"You heard what she said, Ginny! Don't you tell me to SIT down! YOU sit down!" she heard Ron say angrily as Ginny began pulling vigorously at his sweater. Hermione looked over at Ron and Ginny and would have laughed, had the whole school not been watching so intently.

"He doesn't trust me," Hermione said quietly, Harry leaned across the table. "I need him to trust me, Harry."

"And you don't think him handing you that book means he trusts you?" Harry asked angrily.

"He didn't hand it to me, he threw it into my hands," Hermione said angrily. "And there's a difference. You might not think so but there is. He doesn't trust me nor does he trust himself. And in order for him to do both of those things he needs to be with me when I read the book." She said the last word with finality, Harry moved himself back onto the bench as Ginny and Ron were escorted out of the hall, still arguing angrily, by a pestered Professor Merrythought.

"Go then," Harry said, obviously annoyed. "You have no need for the three of us."

"Don't say that," Hermione said as she threw her newspaper into her bag. "I was hoping you'd all come with me to the library to do some more research…"

"You have the book you need. Why don't you open it like all the others?" He quickly picked himself off the bench, throwing his hands on the table loudly as he did so; half the table peered down at them. Hermione was too use to the peering gazes to care anymore; she threw her bag over her shoulder and heaved herself off the bench, making her way down the Great Hall.

She decided not to go the library, seeing as Harry, Ginny and Ron were all elsewhere, and instead decided to head back to her common room. When she stepped through the portrait hole she saw Riddle sitting on the couch, the back of his head facing her.

She threw her nearly empty bag over the cloak rack and walked towards him. As she walked around the couch to the armchair, she noticed Riddle peering down at his black book. She sat down across from him and clasped her hands together, waiting for him to speak.

It seemed to take no effort at all for him when he spoke. "Well?" he asked. Hermione shrugged, "I didn't read it." Riddle seemed stunned for an instant, but recovered himself graciously when he quickly snatched the book in his hand.

He held it up to his face and flipped it over, "So I see…and, might I ask why not?"

"You didn't seem very keen on having me read whatever it was you've written in there," Hermione shrugged, hoping that her honesty would help her and not damage whatever relationship she and Riddle had come to have. "If you had, you wouldn't have run off like you did."

She was sure Riddle wasn't happy with the statement of having run off, but he didn't seem too moved by it. He opened the book and peered down at the front page religiously. "I've said it before, Grindelwald…now; however, I think I mean it."

Hermione peered over at him curiously. He closed the book and set it back down on the table, not allowing it to make a hard thud like his other books. He slid it slowly towards her and flipped it so that its' content was facing her. "I trust you, Hermione."

She took her eyes away from the book that was inches away from her and peered up at Riddle, who was watching her more intently than Hermione ever thought possible. "Open it," he said, and Hermione was surprised to find his tone more inviting than demanding.

His half-plea made Hermione tear her eyes away from him and turn her attention to the black book that Riddle had slid towards her. She set a hand on the book and looked up at Riddle again for assurance; he curtly nodded his head and sat back, waiting for her to open it.

She picked up the book and opened it to the first page, which read: This book belongs to The Heir of Slytherin; Lord Voldemort. Hermione's heart sank. "Lord Voldemort," she whispered, flipping the page. Riddle didn't reply.

Each page had a snake on it, Hermione was sure that Riddle had drawn them himself, each of them looked the same same; each of them horrifyingly similar to the snake Voldemort would come to care for more than humans; Nagini. Hermione felt her stomach could sink no lower than it already had as she began reading the only paragraph on the page; the rest of the page was scribbled with names and occurrences. Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson witnessed an account of my abilities earlier today. They immediately reported me to Mrs. Cole, who is a disgusting excuse for a matron. I'll have my vengeance when we go on our annual trip. Perhaps they'll stumble across my abilities once more…

The rest of the page looked like scratch paper; Riddle had crossed out words, drawn arrows to previously written sentences, and drawn skulls over scribbled out letters. Hermione couldn't make out what half of it said, seeing as most of it had been marked up.

She flipped the page, only to find it just as messy as the previous. "What is this Tom?" she asked worriedly peering up at him. He motioned for her to flip to the next page, she did so reluctantly. This page, like the first, had one full paragraph followed by more scratched out words and skulls. Found a cave on the trip with the orphans today, I cursed Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop into following me. I scared them into silence by bringing dead bodies to life, including theirs. No one will ever know their dead, not even Mrs. Cole.

"You killed them?" Hermione asked curiously. It was hard for her to sound confused when everything finally made sense; Dumbledore had been wrong, people were born evil. Riddle simply nodded his head. "But you were only…"

"Nine," Riddle finished. Hermione waited to see if he would say anything else, when he didn't, she turned her attention back to the book, "What are all these scribbled words…"

"Every person that has ever aggravated me," Riddle said simply. "Followed by forms of torture I wished to bestow on them at the time." Hermione flipped a few pages, her eyes peering over the names and brutal tortures Riddle had made up for each individual. "Turn to the creased page, towards the back."

Hermione closed the book and lifted it, so the creased page could be better seen; she flipped it open and gazed down at the long list of names. "What's this?" She had never hoped herself to be wrong, but she did not want it to be a list of…

"All the people I've killed," Riddle said. "Starting with Amy Benson and ending with…"

"Joseph Fourier…" Hermione said in bewilderment. She stared at the page in horror. "But he's…"

"Time travel is a fascinating subject, isn't it?" Riddle sneered, tapping his fingers carelessly beside him. "I've been researching Fourier since his descendant came to Hogwarts. People seemed to think he was famous, so I was curious. Fourier's ideas were hypocrisy, as I mentioned to you before. I couldn't have him finish his work; he could alter our very lives when I become the darkest wizard in the world.

"So I went back in time, ransacked his home and killed him, making it look like a burglary," Riddle said casually. "Then I implanted the murder to a passerby and made him think he had killed him. I destroyed the last piece of Fourier's time travel equation; therefore making it indefinitely Fourier's Flaw. You see, I couldn't have someone else kill him; I needed to make sure it happened."

"But…how did you? And when did you?" Hermione asked as she set the book down on the table. She glimpsed Morfin Gaunt's name on the list as Riddle continued, "I solved his equation and went last week."

Hermione's eyes shot up, "You solved it?" Riddle nodded his head and peered down at his book with a look of disgust. Hermione pushed the thoughts of Fourier's Flaw into the back of her mind as she asked Riddle, very quietly, "What is it?"

"I started out," Riddle said pointing towards the book. "Finishing what Salazar Slytherin had left behind, but I…"

"Lost control," Hermione finished, peering down at the list again. Riddle nodded his head and gazed at her. "What do you think?"

"What do I…think?" Riddle asked curiously, she turned her attention back to the book. Above Joseph Fourier's name was Tom Riddle Senior, next to which was written died with grandparents after torturing for information about Merope Gaunt. Hermione felt her stomach dive again.

"Yes," she said, trying to cough back the bile in her throat. "What do you think, what do you believe?" Riddle continued staring at her, but he looked more thoughtful than perplexed. "You said you believed yourself to be doing Salazar Slytherin's work. Salazar Slytherin believed that only those of pure ancestry should learn magic, is that what you believe?"

"No," Riddle said with astonishment. "Its fate that determines who can and can not use magic, not blood." They both turned their gazes towards the book on the table.

"Then why did you kill all these people Tom?" Hermione whispered as the knot in her stomach began to loosen.

"I had no choice," Riddle said, though it seemed he didn't believe it himself. "I had to do it."

"You've let your faults control you," Hermione said seriously. "By killing Dennis and Amy you've started a chain reaction that can only be stopped by…"

"Stopped?" Riddle spat. Hermione turned away from the book and looked at him; he was standing on his feet, both hands clasped into fists.

"I thought…"

"I can't stop this, Grindelwald," Riddle said angrily pointing a finger at the book as he continued. "It's who I am."

"No, it's not," Hermione said in agitation. "It's what you do not who you are."

"It's the same, Grindelwald," Riddle said lowering his hand slowly. "Our actions make us who we are, and I'm a murderer."

"You can always…" Hermione stopped herself, she wasn't sure she wanted to continue, there didn't seem any hope in changing him now; he was already Voldemort. Fourier's Flaw had failed and Dumbledore was wrong, Fourier's Flaw was flawed because of its' timing as well.

"There's a certain power in killing, Grindelwald," Riddle said softly. Hermione hadn't realized he had sat back down. "I've never felt more in control."

"So you won't change because you're power hungry?" she asked incredulously. "You sound more like my father than yourself."

"You don't know me," Riddle spat as he pointed a finger towards her. "You don't know anything about it, Grindelwald." He stretched his arm across the table and quickly picked up his book. Without another word he strolled up to his room, closing the door behind him.

Hermione continued sitting in the common room, peering down at the table where Riddle's book had just been. She had hoped that Riddle would have come down and talked to her, but she knew now that Harry, Ron, Ginny and herself had all come back for nothing; they had left the ones they loved in hopes of giving them a better future; a future that could not be altered. A future that would one day be Voldemort's.

***

"You mean to say, he's already murdered fifty people!" Ron said in disgust. It was Tuesday night, the only night they had found time to sit in the Room of Requirements; Riddle had been quick to cancel all Death Eater meetings after Sunday's occurrence.

The Death Eaters all believed Hermione to be the reason, and she was not telling them otherwise. "I didn't count them all, but yes; he killed his dad just last week….along with Joseph Fourier." If Ron, Ginny and Harry had been shocked before, it was nothing compared to what they looked like now.

"But how…I thought the Ministry had killed him off!" Ron exclaimed, obviously the only one out of the three of them that had a voice; half the school now called him the Howler, thanks to the incident Sunday morning. She already had an explanation in mind, having just talked to Dumbledore about it the night previous.

"Riddle wasn't the original killer of Fourier's death, but by us coming back in time, we've changed it. Dumbledore didn't guess it, nor did I, but we changed the past's past without knowing it….if that makes sense." Ron shook his head as the others followed suit.

"Well, Riddle's dad didn't die until just this last week," Hermione sighed, trying to explain it in a more suitable manner. "The Riddle we knew went to Little Hangleton during the summer of his sixth year and killed the Riddle's, altering Morfin Gaunt's memory to think himself the killer. But that didn't happen."

"Great," Ron said in exasperation. "So Tom Riddle Senior lived to be a year older, fancy that change suited him, but what of us? We're still stuck with snake man."

"I'm not so sure of that," Hermione said, ignoring the angry sighs of Harry and Ron. "He seems reluctant to do it. Kill, I mean."

"Whether or not he does it willingly doesn't matter, Hermione," Harry said seriously. "He's still doing it, that's what matter." Ginny and Ron nodded their heads.

"I'm not saying we can change him," Hermione said pessimistically. "I honestly think he's beyond our help now, but Dumbledore asked me to try and I will continue trying. It's the only plan we've got."

"Maybe not," Harry said, looking at the fireplace with disgust. "I have a thought…and I hate myself for saying it, but we're going to help Riddle."

"What are you talking about Harry?" Ron asked, looking in bewilderment as his best friend.

"It's about time Grindelwald has that historical battle."

***

Hermione peered around the empty common room, her eyes lingering on the stairway that lead to Riddle's room. She had a plan, or Harry did, and she needed to tell Riddle about it as soon as possible. She sat on the couch for as long as time would permit, but Riddle never came down.

She quickly stood up and picked her bag up off the cloak rack before leaving the common room, realizing she was going to be late for Potions class. Professor Slughorn didn't seem to care that she was five minutes late, he obviously thought it had to do with Head Girl duties, and she was not going to tell him otherwise.

She sighed happily when she saw Riddle sitting in his seat. She quickly sat herself next to him as Slughorn continued his lecture. They sat in silence as he lectured on the importance of mixing the ingredients properly in the Draught of Living Death. Riddle didn't seem to be paying attention; he was tapping one finger on his black book as he stared at the table, as if he meant to hex it.

"You've made this all before, but it's never a reason to not try again!" Professor Slughorn said enthusiastically. "After all, hardly anyone ever gets the potion right. Off you go." The class began talking nervously and walking around the room towards friends as Slughorn sat himself in his chair, looking rather satisfied with his speech.

Hermione noticed Riddle hadn't moved as she turned her eyes to the cauldron on their desk. "Aren't you going to start?" she asked him curiously. He peered up, as if realizing where he was for the first time, and closed his eyes. He hesitated before opening them, "Riddle, are you alright?"

"Just tired," he noted dully as he opened his book to the appropriate page.

"I would have thought all that time in your room would've helped," Hermione mumbled as she passed the sopophorous bean towards him.

"What are you talking about Grindelwald?" Riddle asked distractedly. He peered down the list of ingredients and snatched the bean from the table in one swift motion.

"I'm talking about me being late for potions class waiting in the common room for you to come out of your room," Hermione said angrily.

"You were waiting for me?" Riddle asked, setting his potion book down on the table as he peered over at her inquiringly.

"Well, yes," Hermione said rather dumbly. "Why wouldn't I have been?"

"I thought our disagreement on Sunday would have…made you change your mind about me," Riddle said as he peered around the room, making sure no one was listening. Hermione did the same, and saw that Malfoy was watching them intently. When Riddle looked at him, he gave a curt nod and turned his attention to his potion.

"That's your disagreement, not mine," Hermione said, handing Riddle the valerian root. "And I don't think of you any differently, I just understand you better."

Riddle was silent for a moment, pondering what she had said. Hermione caught a glimpse of Harry watching them, but she turned her attention quickly back to the potion in front of them. The class seemed to have settled down, all of them rather enticed with their potions. Hermione thought that was the reason for Riddle's lack of response, but when Hermione peered into their potion, which had reached its' ideal halfway stage and had turned a deep purple, she heard Riddle say, "I've never met anyone like you Hermione."

She took her time moving her gaze from the potion to Riddle, and could tell that those students closest to them had her Riddle's remark. They were already passing it around the classroom, which was back to its' former noise level. Slughorn didn't seem to notice, as he was too busy lecturing Malfoy on how to make the perfect potion. Hermione didn't notice as well, and it seemed Riddle could care less about the whispers surrounding them.

She smiled towards him, a faint flutter of hope crossing her mind as she did so. She saw the most genuine smile cross his face before it turned into a small smirk, and she couldn't help but blush. It wasn't so easy to make Voldemort smile.

By the end of class, the news of Riddle's remark had faded, only to be replaced by the fact that Riddle and Hermione were the only students in their year to have made the perfect Draught of Living Death potion. Slughorn awarded both houses fifty points, exclaiming his excitement by removing the week's homework assignments.

Hermione and Riddle were the last ones to leave the class, having been bombarded with praises by Slughorn as they tried to leave. Hermione had watched Harry and Malfoy linger, but both left within minutes of class ending.

She picked up her bag as Slughorn patted her on the back, "A job well done you two." Riddle and Hermione nodded their heads and quickly walked towards the door, hoping Slughorn would not entrap them again.

"Does he not realize we have another class?" Hermione asked in agitation as Riddle slid the door shut behind him.

"I highly doubt Professor Hastings would care if we were late," Riddle said carelessly, he was use to being praised by Slughorn.

"Since we're going to be late," Hermione said peering over at Riddle, who she noticed for the first time was wearing Gaunt's ring. "I have to tell you something." Riddle peered over at her and matched her gaze, he took the ring off his finger and handed it towards her.

"Salazar Slytherin's ring," he said with an air of delight. "It belonged to my mother before she died." Hermione didn't take it, and it was obvious Riddle didn't expect her to; he put the ring back on his finger and waited for her to continue.

"I know where Grindelwald is, Tom," she said as they walked up a flight of stairs. Riddle stopped halfway, his hand lingering on the railing. "Or I expect I know where he is."

"Where?" Riddle asked quickly, gazing at the paintings decorating the wall.

"He use to tell me about his plan for a prison when I was younger. He use to say that he'd land his enemies in it, to keep them away from…"

"Where?" Riddle asked again, more urgently this time.

"Nurmengard," Hermione said.

"I've never heard of it," Riddle said curiously. Hermione nodded her head, "You wouldn't. He's building it in secret right now."

"Are you sure?" Riddle asked.

"It's a speculation," Hermione stammered. "But he told me he'd be out of contact with me while he was building it. Granted, we don't talk to each other, he always sent me my mother's necklace after I'd send it back. But he gave it to me personally before saying he was leaving."

"Where's the locket?" Riddle asked quietly. "There's a reason he gave it to you in person. It must have the location of his hiding…"

"It's in my dresser," Hermione said. "But there's no need, I know where it's located."

"Where?" Riddle asked, obviously not curious as to how Hermione knew of its' location.

"The North Sea," Hermione said. Riddle looked at her skeptically, obviously thinking of Azkaban. "It's 200 miles south of Azkaban, close to Germany."

"Why Germany?" Riddle asked as he continued walking up the stairs. Hermione shrugged, "He was always fond of their politics, and he's very fond of Adolf Hitler."

"I suppose they have a lot in common," Riddle noted with a laugh. Hermione nodded her head as they continued walking towards History of Magic class. Before Riddle opened the door to Professor Hastings classroom, he turned towards Hermione, "Tonight. We'll plan Grindelwald's defeat tonight."

Riddle had been correct, Professor Hastings didn't care that they were late for his class; in fact, he congratulated them on their perfection of the Draught of Living Death before returning to his lecture. Riddle had given a faint nod in acknowledgment, but Hermione hadn't reacted to his comment. She only had attention for Harry; he had told her to inform him when she had told Riddle the location of Grindelwald.

He was sitting towards the back of the class, beside a disgruntled and confused looking Malfoy. She nodded her head towards him and she saw him sigh in relief before she took her seat beside Riddle.

By lunch time news of Riddle's remark seemed to have reached all corners of the school, as well as the news of the Draught of Living Death; though it were the teachers who seemed to care about the latter. As Hermione passed the Ravenclaw table, she saw Hannah give her a somewhat meaningful look. She laughed and shrugged her shoulder in curiosity as she noticed Peter, whose head was buried behind a book.

She sat herself down beside Riddle at the Slytherin table, noticing that half the Death Eaters were surrounding them. She saw Harry enter the Great Hall with Ginny and Ron and quickly motioned for him to sit beside her, hoping that another Death Eater wouldn't fill the seat before Harry got the chance to reach her. She saw him make a quick good-bye to Ginny and Ron, who sat down at the Hufflepuff table for a change, and make his way towards her.

He sat down beside Hermione, giving Riddle a nod of the head as he did so. "Hermione," Harry said worriedly. "I've just heard Headmaster Dippet saying the Aurors are coming back to Hogwarts." Hermione peered over at the teacher's table, as if hoping Dippet was there and Harry had been mistaken. The Headmaster's seat was empty.

She turned her gaze to Riddle as the surrounding Death Eaters began mumbling about the latest news. "You don't think…"

"Dumbledore," Riddle said angrily staring at the entrance to the Great Hall. The Death Eaters had quieted themselves when he had spoken, and they all turned their attention to Riddle's gaze. An agitated Headmaster Dippet was walking down the Great Hall, followed closely by Professor Dumbledore.

The Great Hall quieted as Headmaster Dippet placed himself in front of the hall, hands in the air as if to magic silence into them. The students had already silenced themselves, having noticed Dippet and Dumbledore walking down the hall. Dumbledore sat himself in the chair closest to Dippet's and peered across the hall.

"Students," Headmaster Dippet began sadly. "It is with the utmost regret that I bring you this news. There have been a series of attacks on wizards and witches surrounding the Hogwarts area, and the Ministry believes its best protection for the school is to have Hogwarts play host to the Aurors, yet again." The hall erupted in screams of anger. Hermione heard a few students whispering delightedly about their 'fancied' Auror.

"Yes, yes," Dippet continued. "I know how upset this makes you all. But the Ministry has spoken, and there is nothing I can do about it. Hogsmeade trips are forthwith cancelled, but I see no reason why you can not all take pleasure in the Novemberf Ball." The students clapped happily, grateful that the ball would not be cancelled.

"You will not be allowed to leave the school for proper attire however," Headmaster Dippet said urgently. "Nor will you be allowed to leave the school for any other reason. Their will be Aurors at each entrance and if you do not wish yourself to be expelled I'd caution you to stay clear of them."

Riddle turned his gaze towards Hermione as Dippet made his way to his seat, having finished his announcement. "They've only come because Riddle's been leaving the school so often," Hermione heard a first year Slytherin said decisively. Riddle seemed to not have heard the remark; he was tapping an agitated finger on the table in thought.

All the Death Eaters were watching him intently; Hermione nudged Harry with her foot. He cleared his throat before addressing Riddle, "Sir?" Riddle turned towards him. "The Aurors don't know all the secret passageways in and out of Hogwarts."

The surrounding Death Eaters turned their gaze towards him as well. "The Whomping Willow's passage was…"

"I'm not talking about the Shrieking Shack," Harry said as the Death Eaters gazed at him angrily, no one cut off the Dark Lord. Riddle seemed too keen on the answer to care, he watched Harry intently as he continued. "Anyone fancy a bit of candy?"

***

Hermione sat down on the couch in the common room, having just opened the portrait door for Harry. After Harry's apparent loyalty was shown as lunch, Riddle had made it clear that he wanted Harry at the meeting. He didn't tell Hermione the reason why, but as the two of them left the Slytherin table, Riddle had told Harry to be at their portrait hole at eight that night.

Hermione had noticed the look of betrayal on Malfoy's face as they walked off, having heard Harry agree to come that night. Hermione and Harry hadn't had time to talk between that time and now, but it seemed neither of them needed to plan what was happening now.

They both sat down at the same time, peering at Riddle, who sat across from them. "Hermione believes that Grindelwald is building a prison in the North Sea, and believes that that's where we'll find him. What do you think?"

"Isn't Azkaban in the North Sea?" Harry asked, trying to sound unaware of the plans he and Hermione had originally created.

"It's located 200 miles south of Azkaban," Riddle said. "According to Hermione." Harry peered from Hermione to Riddle and bowed his head. "We need a way out of the castle; you mentioned a passage that leads into the storage room of Honeydukes?"

"It's located on the third floor," Harry nodded. "You know the One-Eyed Witch statue?" Riddle and Hermione nodded their heads in recollection. "Tap it with your wand; say Dissendium and you're out of Hogwarts."

"How long is the passage?" Riddle asked curiously. Harry sat his wand down, not realizing he had taken it out while explaining the passage to Riddle.

"An hour, give or take," Harry said curtly. Riddle nodded his head and turned his attention to Hermione, "Since the Aurors are back, we'll need a distraction. Something that takes place at night and gathers the whole school in one area." They were quiet for a few minutes as Riddle thought; Hermione and Harry glanced towards him and back at each other before Harry spoke.

"What about the November fball?" Harry asked curiously. "My Lord." He added as an after effect, thanks to Hermione's quick nudge.

"That could work, though it's nearly two weeks away," Hermione said worriedly.

"We need time to train the others," Riddle said distractedly. "Two weeks will do. We'll have to make an appearance at the ball, as to not raise suspicions." It was obvious Riddle was delighted in deceiving the Aurors, he seemed to be thinking about the plan more fervently than when Hermione and him had started out with it earlier in the year.

"We could all leave in shifts," Harry added. "The Aurors will simply think we've gone for a bit of air." Riddle nodded his head and Hermione couldn't help but smile at the fact that Riddle was taking the bait.

"I was beginning to think you weren't on my side, Fourier," Riddle said thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry to have misled you, My Lord," Harry said, peering over at Hermione, who was still smiling.

"I believe that will be all, Harry," Hermione said after a moment of silence. "We can take it from here. But thank you." Harry nodded his head after giving Hermione a warning look. He stood up, picking up his wand off the table as he did so.

"I'll see you in class tomorrow then," Harry said with a smile towards Hermione. She nodded her head as he pocketed his wand. He turned his gaze towards Riddle. "My Lord." He bowed graciously. Riddle waited for him to peer at him upright before saying, "Tell the others, Fourier, that our training will begin again tomorrow. Midnight to three every morning, and tell them not to get caught."

"Of course, My Lord," Harry said bowing again. He turned and quickly left, closing the portrait hole slowly behind him. Hermione was sure his delay had to do with the fact that it was nearly midnight. She was sure he was checking the Marauder's Map or extracting his Invisibility cloak as he closed the portrait hole.

"You seemed to have been right about him," Riddle noted as Hermione turned her gaze back towards him. "But I fear you've wrongly interpreted me."

Hermione shrugged, "Like you said, I see good where others don't. Just because you yourself can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there." Riddle nodded his head and stood up, Hermione watched him walk towards the staircase.

He stopped only two steps up and turned towards her, "Will you go with me?" he asked quietly.

"To the ball?" Hermione asked curiously. Riddle nodded his head, "To the ball." He seemed to have already convinced himself that she would reply with a firm 'no'. He had half turned back towards his room, unsure of himself.

She had only once ever seen this side of Riddle, the shy unsure, too thoughtful Riddle. She liked it, but she felt that enticing him with a prolonged answer would make their situation more unbearable. "I'd love to go to the ball with you, Tom," she smiled. For the second time that day, Riddle gave her a sincere smile.

A/N: Thanks for your plethora of reviews, as always; I just reached 100 reviews! Thanks to all! XOXO