A word from the author: Don't throw stones at me folks. I'm really really sorry about not updating in such a long time. I had an evil professor last semester and I spent most of my spare time studying for his class. And then came the holidays, where I rekindled my relationship with my Xbox. But nonetheless, I bring you Chapter 11.

Happy Reading! ^_^

Chapter 11: The Smuggler

July 7th; 2:00 PM

Reality no longer seemed itself as Hermione made her way down to Borgin & Burkes. Her worst nightmares were slowly becoming reality with each and every man in grey uniform she saw. It was as if there weren't enough of them harassing citizens before, but now they roamed the streets like rabid pitbulls cut free from their leashes. A bunch of harsh one-liners were heard booming in the air.

"Freeze!"

"Come here!"

"Stand over there!"

"Get down on the ground!"

"Don't move!"

"I'll shoot you!"

Hermione didn't dare to stop and see who else were being made examples of. She felt like hell, and needed to make sense of the present situation. What a horrible day to be wearing heels! Damn shoes had already formed blisters under her feet from standing up all morning while waiting to be frisked. Hundreds of other Londoners were in line ahead of her. With all the policemen armed with AR-15's, there was no sneaking away.

"This is a precautionary measure. All done for your safety." The Ministry reassured over the speakers all over town as she stood there like a dumb cow.

At least she had some talent running in heels. Once her adrenaline was pumping again, she was able to ignore the painful jeers from underneath her feet. Her physical abilities were put to the test as she cut through all the seedy back alleys to avoid the main streets. Cracked concrete and a broken glass utopia. Not to mention a safe haven for criminals. But who was more dangerous? A trained officer with a machine gun or a low IQ criminal with a handgun. She preferred to run into neither, but a cop for sure, she didn't want to see.

It took some time to finally reach her destination. Maybe around forty-five minutes. Tom was having a cigarette by the front door, not phased at all about the recent chaos. He seemed to have his eye on a police car that was slowly driving by, yet he made no outward motion to show any acknowledgement. No effort was made to hide his tats. Only a form-fitting tank top covered the ones on his torso. His arms were free for the world to see. It was as if he was baring his teeth to them, daring them to do something. If they did have their eyes on him, they kept on driving. Tom sure was something else. Many thugs occupied southern London. Loud and obnoxious as ever. All obviously screaming for attention. Not him. He was more like a snake slithering quietly in the grass. Maybe that was the meaning of that large viper on his back.

Once his gaze switched over to her, she felt her blood freeze, though she couldn't understand why. She at least had an idea what he was like. Nice guy? Hell no.

"Miss Granger, for as late as you are, I would think you'd put more effort into your appearance." He snickered while blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"I was at the courthouse this morning." She said blandly as she took a seat on the curb up front. She popped off both her heals and weakly massaged her sore feet. Locks of curly brown hair stuck to the sides of her neck. The temperature felt like it was nearing 40 C. Not a single cloud in sight.

"Hmm. It seems like a lot of waste to start a manhunt on some random, greasy mechanic." Tom shrugged as he took a seat next to her.

"Hey, that's my friend you're talking about." Hermione snapped.

"Relax. It's a harmless jab at an old friend. Besides, I hope it's obvious to you that this whole 'deranged, madman is on the loose' is a front for something even greater." Tom took one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it in the street.

"I know. Sirius is a good man. As much as he hates the policemen in this town, he wouldn't be so reckless."

"You never know what a person feels when they're backed up into a corner." Tom stood up, and then dusted off his jeans. "Come inside when you're finish resting. There are some things that shouldn't be said out in the open." With that, Tom pointed to his ear. In a dictatorship, she could guess that he meant there could be hearing devices around.

It was painful standing up. She almost fell over with the sudden overwhelming shocks in her legs. Clumsily, she made her way to the back where she heard his radio playing some kind of music she had never heard before. The language was still English, but totally new to her. A smooth beat, with men that sounded more like they were talking rather than singing.

She formed a fist to knock on the door. Half an inch away, she thought maybe she was passed that stage.

"Partner in crimes, right?" She thought as she moved her hand down to the knob and twisted it open. Once again, she was in Tom's cluttered workroom. It seemed that one man's junk was another man's treasure with all the worn looking appliances that were all huddled together on shelves that even went beyond her head.

"What is that that you're listening to?" She asked, attempting some light conversation. His eyes remained on some appliance that he was taking apart.

"Hip hop. It's from the U.S. Dr. Dre I think is the name of the guy. You wouldn't believe how much music you can find on the internet. And it didn't cost me a dime. Well, if you don't count the CD they're burned on."

"Then how do singers make money if what their work for is just being given away?" Hermione questioned, pulling up a rusty stool Tom had in the corner. Not at all cushiony, but it took the pressure off her feet.

"Come on now. Nobody is that selfless. All these sites with 'free music' are entirely illegal, but it's hard to control the people who paid for the music from sharing with it others. But as a poor man, I have no choice but to use these sites to get what I need." He finished off sarcastically.

"I'm sure you are. All that equipment in your room looked real cheap." She replied in the same manner. Tom smiled at that while unscrewing more parts.

"Most of it is second-hand, but no, it was not cheap. Besides, making my living isn't easy. Do you think I care about how others make there ends meet?" He set a part down, and then picked up another. "Now back to the pressing issue. I wouldn't be outlandish to believe that Grindelwald has fabricated this story that Black has escaped, and is holding him somewhere else."

"But why would he do that? I thought his plan was to make an example out of Sirius by publicly executing him." She questioned while pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"That's done so regularly, it's no longer surprising. While Sirius' name does carry some weight based on his bloodline, and his betrayal to his family is well-known, hanging him would be forgotten within a week. However, this whole fugitive mess may take longer to die out. And it allows the Ministry to exercise 'Emergency Procedures'. Everybody is a suspect. Well, everybody down here is a suspect. Damn 'Purebloods' can go on with their lives just like always."

"Now you're starting to sound a bit like a conspiracy nut. I don't think the Ministry would resort to measures that complex when they know simple actions have worked well in the past." Hermione stated, causing Tom's eyes to grow darker.

"And you're beginning to sound like another clueless lamb being led into the slaughter. Grindelwald has been in power for over fifty-two years. Don't be so naïve. If he takes three steps, we must take five in order to beat him." He snapped.

Hermione got quiet, not knowing how to respond. Again, the tension between him and her had returned. And she felt some slight humiliation for no longer being the one with all the right answers. She had a lot to say about Grindelwald and the Ministry, but she knew when it came down to research, Tom definitely had the upper hand. The image of his computer flashed through her mind.

"Did you look at the books that I lent you?" Tom asked more calmly, breaking the silence.

"I did." She said, matter-of-factly. She was sure he assumed that she blew them off.

"How'd it go?" He asked.

"Well I can't say much since computers are new to me, but I think I'll be able to understand them." She beamed.

"I don't need you to think. When you have a sense of doubt, you're more likely to give up when things become more and more difficult. If that's the way you feel, then let me know now and stop wasting my time."

She swore she saw a red gleam in his eye. Something that made them seem less human. What was he really like when he lost his temper, she wondered. Most of the time, she had seen him calm and collected. His face was practically indifferent. Slightly stern, when displeased. But did he yell? She knew she did whenever she was pushed beyond her limit. And it wasn't a pretty sight. Well, if she didn't start getting computer science within the next few days, she was sure her question would be nastily answered.

"I will learn it." Hermione answered definitively. It was going to be a hard task to complete, but the fate of the nation depended on it. Change was greatly needed. "Soon."

"Good." Tom nodded curtly, expression remained dark. "And I expect you to meet me after work every day for further training. You can have every word in those books memorized, but if you never put that new knowledge into practice, you will never learn. Not a single day should be missed. In fact, from here on out, every task I assign you is to have priority over anything else going on in your life. Just to be clear, any attempt at an excuse will be wasted effort. You got that?"

Heat flared up towards Hermione's face. She had understood that as his student, she would have to put up with some crap, but just the way that he was asking her. Demanding her. The rage in her eyes must've shown well because Tom continued with his authoritative tone before she had a chance to protest.

"I see that what I've said has upset you. While it is admirable that you have the confidence to stand up for yourself, it would be in your best interest to listen to someone who is trying to help you." He exhaled irritably.

"You're starting to sound like the Ministry." She huffed, crossing her arms. "How do they say it though? 'Give us your loyalty and we will give you guidance to building a great nation'. I think that's how it goes."

"Let's not forget that you came to me." He said smugly as he leaned back in his chair. "If you didn't think that I had a solution, I wouldn't have found you crying at my door. And I didn't brush you off. I didn't tell you to go home. I showed you something I've never shown anyone else, and then I offered to show you what I know and how to use that knowledge to change the country. A fantastic deal, yet you still feel that it's not enough. What more were you looking for? For me to give you a gold star? Tell you 'Congratulations' for everything you're expected to do? I'm preparing you for war, Granger. If you can't thicken up your skin, then you should go sit in the sidelines and stay out of the way."

"That doesn't give you the right-"

"If you don't like my teaching methods, then go and find somebody else. We are not equals, and will remain that way until you can do what I can do. You'll be hard-pressed finding anyone else who can show you what I can. Much less someone with the resources I have."

Tom's eyes became sharper with every word he spoke. Even as he sat back, relaxed, she couldn't help but keep stiff in her seat. She wanted to argue, let him know she wasn't one to be controlled. Her mouth opened slightly, but all that came out was a small whimper. She felt the color flush from her face. How humiliating. As time ticked on, a smirk slowly grew on his face. What was wrong with her? Her mind drew a blank. She couldn't think of any good insult to throw at him. Nothing that will cut him as deep as he had cut her. The brief second her eye wondered across the cluttered room, she saw a screwdriver lying on the table in front of him. With her mind MIA during this critical time, she was ready to do something totally against her nature. She was ready to resort to something primitive, and very savage. She wanted to snatch that screwdriver and stab him in the chest. Repeatedly.

To calm herself, she breathed in deeply. Any other time, she swore to herself that she would've done it. But then Sirius…

As it killed it to admit to herself that she needed Tom, she exhaled loudly. And as she had no choice but to kneel down in defeat, it became much more evident. Too bad Tom was far from modest.

"Awfully quiet there. Are you alright?" He raised an eyebrow. Hardly out of concern. More of a taunt, than anything else.

"Never been better." Her voice was barely audible. It was hard being forced to show respect someone who blatantly told her he wouldn't show her the same courtesy.

"That's good to hear. Well I hope you don't have any plans for tonight. I have few things set up that will make it a night to remember." His mood lightened up, yet in no way, made her feel better.

Internally, she groaned. With everything that had gone down the past eighteen hours, she didn't want to go anywhere. With what just happened in the last five minutes, she really didn't want to go anywhere with him.

"Yay…" She said weakly.

"Go home. Take a shower. You look like you need it. Don't forget your 'reading' and I'll go pick you up at your apartment eleven."

"Thank you." She painfully put on a smile before she dismissed herself. The whole walk home, she cursed like a drunken sailor under her breath.

4:32 PM

How long had she been shampooing her hair? So much going on that her mind still needed more time to process it. Her fingers were all shriveled up, and pretty numb, by the time she stepped out. She threw on some dark-colored sweats before she tossed herself back on her bed. Her head was aching. All she wanted to do was go to sleep. Sleep sounded so good. What would it be like if she never woke up?

No. No, she couldn't think like that. There was still hope. At least that was what she liked to think. She picked up one of Tom's books that she had on her nightstand. Best do her part on changing the nation, right?

Numerical Analysis.

Sounded interesting. She had always loved math. In middle school, she was the only one who would get perfect scores on her algebra exams. Of course, she knew better than to brag about it. There were a couple of Neanderthals that beat on anybody who stood out, be it boy or girl. Hopefully all that studying from those days would help her get through Tom's books. She glanced down the Table of Contents to see what she what she had in store.

Error Analysis

Solutions of Equations in One Variable

Interpolation and Polynomial Approximation

Numerical Differentiation and Integration

Initial-Value Problems for Ordinary Differential Equations

The chapter titles got longer and more complex sounding as she went on. But for a chance to one up Tom in the near future, it may be worth sacrificing hours of sleep each night. A little more than six hours before he would come by for her. She could cram in a good size of information by then.

After reading four words from the first paragraph, her phone rang. While walking out to the kitchen to answer it, her mind raced as she thought who it could've possibly been. The phone almost never rang.

"Hello?" She answered warily.

"Hey Hermione, how've you been? I just wanted to call and check given all that's been going on in the news." It was Ron.

With all that had been going on, she hadn't thought about Ron at all. She really felt bad. Ron had always been good to her after all. But they were from two different worlds. He grew up a pureblood. He would never know how hard life was for her. It wasn't his fault. If things were different, they could've been great together. She had to let him go. Best to let him down easy now before getting in too deep and risk shattering both their hearts later.

"I've been busy. Sorry." She said.

"If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to tell me." Ron reassured.

Did he really like her? She sensed some slight hurt in his voice over not seeing her.

"Listen, Ron. Right now is not a good time for me. And I don't want you to just wait around."

"I don't mind at all. Like I said; I'll be there if you need me to be or I'll stay out of your hair. Either way is fine. I just want to make sure we are on the same page."

"That's very nice of you, but I think it's better if you forget about me."

"Hermione-"

"I'm sorry Ron, but I have to go."

She hung up before he had a chance to say anything else. Her hazel eyes looked down at the phone wishing she hadn't done that. Slowly, she peeled her hand off the phone, and then returned to her room. Again, she cracked open the Numerical Analysis book and started reading.

"I'm preparing you for war, Granger." Tom's words rang through her head.

The stage was already being set. Grindelwald had taken a bold step today. A rather risky step, though. The Ministry was charging towards the lower class with full force. If they could be tripped up, even if just a little bit, they would come spiraling down. Tom knew this very well, and probably why he was rushing her. She couldn't guess what his move would be, or how much he would have her play a part in all of it. All she knew was that she wanted to be a part of the revolution.

11:09 PM

"…unbelievable all that has unraveled today. After the mess at the Courthouse this morning, State Policemen are seen within every square mile of the city and checkpoints leading out of London have far higher security than before. I encourage you all to stay indoors. Only leave your homes if absolutely necessary…"

Woo! Tom's concentration was taken away from the pirate radio station. He looked up into his rear-view mirror and saw flashing red lights. No doubt in his mind that it was a cop. He sighed with this sudden inconvenience. His faded red truck was sort of a well-known item around the neighborhood, and the cops usually drove right passed him. Even if he was speeding. Whoever was stopping him must've been a rookie.

"Step out of the vehicle, sir!" The cop ordered into a vehicle. Tom was tempted to pull out his gun from his glove compartment and fire a round into the cop's eye, but he knew better than to act rashly. He stepped out of his truck compliantly, though begrudgingly.

"Now put your hands in the air!" Tom continued to follow directions.

"And wave them like you just don't care!" With that, Tom turned around. He squinted his eyes to get a look at his arresting officer. The lack of good street lamps made him hard to see, but some men are distinguishable from a mile away. Squat man with short stubby legs. His formally long, greasy ginger hair would've been seen in the silhouette had he not been forced to shave it down into a buzz cut once joining the State Police.

"Fletcher?" Tom hollered.

"Nice to run into you, Riddle." Said the cop.

Officer Mundungus Fletcher was probably the easiest police officer that Tom had corrupted, and turned out to be the most valuable. A man far more interested in money than anything else, he didn't hesitate to get in on the Black Market that Tom had expanded across Britain in the early nineties. In fact, the man played a critical role in creating smuggling routes across the country. He didn't hesitate to sell Tom some highly sensitive information or give him the names to other officers that could be persuaded to do the same. What really made him valuable was his American contacts that sold Tom most of his imports.

"I ought to cut your balls off for that." Tom said as he threw down his hands and walked over to the basset hound looking man.

"Come now, Riddle. Learn to laugh every once and a while." He patted Tom on the elbow. Not tall enough to pat him on the shoulder. "Come sit in my office." Fletcher led Tom into his patrol car.

"So what's new?" Tom asked as soon as he was inside.

"My American friend has some neat little toys you may be interested in. What do you think about upgrading from those squirter guns to AK-47's? Uzi's, tech-9's, SMG's? If you want to take on the police force, or should things really pick up, the Dementors, with thugs with almost no professional training, I think automatic weapons would be the way to go. I think this guy can get your hands on grenades too." Fletcher explained.

"I'll pass on the grenades. I can put together satchel charges with some spare parts over at Bourgin's. As for the guns, have him send me prices. The next thing I want to know is how that heroine from Afghanistan is coming along." Tom said as he pulled out a cigarette from his leather jacket.

"I should have that information for you soon. As for the other stuff, that'll all be in by two."

"Good to hear." Tom said almost blankly.

"Lookin' tough in all black. You should really think about throwin' on some color every now and then." Fletcher asked, fixing himself back up, getting ready to drive away.

"I'll keep that in mind." Tom started to head out the car. "I'll catch you later, Dung." Tom slammed the door and headed back to his truck. Fletcher drove off, tires screeched loudly, and he nearly missed Tom as he speed off.

Tom glanced at his Rolex watch. 11:28. Well, it seemed he was already late.

"Better late than never." Tom said with his cigarette dangling from his mouth as he hopped back in his truck.

A/N: I'm really grateful for all the positive feedback I've gotten for this story, and I hope that I haven't lost any of you since I've taken so long to update. I have big plans for this story, and I wouldn't dream about abandoning it. I hope to see you guys soon, but no promises since my classes are getting harder and harder each semester. Now I got four different math based classes, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to throw my head through a wall any day now.

Catch you later, and please review! :D