Disclaimer: don't own.

That's what happened in chapter 11:

"During our meetings you call me my lord. At school it is Tom for you. Clear? Rosier will tell you about our goals and what our meetings are about." Tom nervously looked at his watch. "Now it's time for me to go. I have other businesses to attend to. Next meeting will be in the Slytherin common room the day after tomorrow at 9 pm. Don't be late, or you will be punished."

Tom swiftly got up, not looking back. He desperately had to find Hermione.

On with the story:

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"Let's leave, Hermione." Quentin suggested drily, when they couldn't bear the sucking noises coming from the next table. Abraxas and Emily had obviously glued their lips together. Hermione nodded eagerly and off they went in a hurry.

"I couldn't stand it any longer." Quentin offered Hermione his arm when they were outside, walking down the hill from Madame Puddifoots.

Hermione smiled. "Not really, no."

"But well, that's a Malfoy for you." Quentin explained haughtily. "Ah… look who's here… our friend Tom."

Hermione's head whipped around and she almost cricked her neck.

Tom…

The name alone sent a thrill through her. Not a thrill of terror, but a thrill of excitement. How odd.

"Quentin. Hermione." Tom greeted coldly.

The look he gave them was far from friendly and Hermione felt a chill run down her spine. "Tom." Quentin nodded, his head bowed, but Hermione reacted differently. She HAD to seduce Tom, after all. Not that it was easy, mind you.

"Hi Tom." she smiled brilliantly at him and hoped it worked. "We need to dash though, gotta buy some sweets before the shop closes."

"Yes, we are late anyway." Quentin smiled as well, hiding his fear like only a real Slytherin could. "See you later, Tom."

And they both left, leaving Tom standing there and staring after them.

"Close escape." Hermione murmured.

"He looked ready to kill." Quentin shook his head, shivering.

"Why though?" Hermione wondered.

"You seriously don't know?" Quentin raised an eyebrow elegantly, almost glaring at his date. "He is jealous, Hermione."

"Jealous?" Hermione laughed mockingly. "Come on, he …" but she trailed off. Quentin was right. Tom was jealous. Full stop.

Hermione blushed at the thought and felt her heart swell. Tom was jealous. She could have sung. Not only did it give her a boost of self-confidence but Hermione also thought that it would be good for their mission; Tom had never felt jealousy before Hermione had bumped into him. Right?

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"How was your date with Quentin?" Draco asked moodily. They were sitting in the Slytherin common room in a far corner, playing wizards chess.

"Very nice." Hermione smiled. It indeed was very nice, although Quentin had said at the end: 'Thank you, Hermione, for this lovely afternoon, but I know that your heart is withsomeone else.' Hermione hadn't denied it, of course, for it was true. "What did you do?"

"As you know we had our first meeting with the Dark Lord." Harry rolled his eyes. "It went as expected. But he told us he wouldn't use the cruciatus any longer."

Hermione smiled in victory. "Brilliant! We've already changed the timeline."

"We have." Harry agreed. "But don't you think he is going to use something more dangerous then?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. He felt the cruciatus curse on HIMself and he definitely won't use it anymore. I doubt he would make you suffer MORE if there is even the slightest chance that it could be used against him again."

"Fair point." Draco watched with amusement as his knight dragged Harry's queen off the board. "Potter is going to lose the game."

"I've never been good at this crap." Harry groaned when another one of his horses was dragged off.

"It's a barbaric game anyway." Hermione sniffed. "I saw your grandfather today, Draco. He dated someone from Ravenclaw of all houses. That's unlike him. isn't it?"

"Oh?" Draco didn't find these news as interesting.

"They were sitting at the next table at Madame Puddifoots-"

"You went to Madame Puddifoots?" Draco yelled, upending the chessboard with the figures crashing onto the floor, breaking into thousands of pieces.

"Manners Lumiere, or I'll have to deduct points." Tom swept over like a gigantic bat. "And clean up after yourselves."

Harry and Draco bent down and began to clean up at once, under the critical eye of the infamous headboy.

He smiled at Hermione, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Nice seeing you in Hogsmeade today."

Hermione barely nodded. "Likewise, though it would have been nicer if you had been friendlier to me."

Tom went quiet and even Draco and Harry stopped collecting the shards of glass and stared at Hermione as if she were crazy. Harry's face went pale and he was mouthing at Hermione.

"Excuse me?" Tom asked, politely, raising an eyebrow.

"I said, it would have been nicer in Hogsmeade, if you had been friendlier." Hermione said in a strong carrying voice. "Not sending jealous glances at Quentin and me."

"Jealous?" Tom said through gritted teeth, his pale skin reddening. "How dare you say I'm jealous, Hermione."

"I do dare, Tom. Because it's obvious." Hermione gave him the kindest smile she could muster. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, though, don't worry. Everyone feels jealousy a fair few times in their lives. It's not a nice feeling, Tom, I should know."

Tom tutted but didn't say anything.

"Really – it's understandable and you don't have to be ashamed of being jealous. Besides, then you know what to do next time." Hermione faltered. She wasn't used to being Lavender-ish and outgoing to boys. Besides, she had already used that sentence before, hadn't she? In the future… when Ron accused her of fraternizing with the enemy.

"What do you mean, I know what to do next time?" Tom questioned, perplex.

"You know what you will have to do that you won't feel jealous anymore." Hermione explained, not looking at him. Her hands were sweaty and she felt really faint. Why couldn't Tom get a hint? Men, honestly!

"Don't you notice, Tom?" Harry, the brave Gryffindor, said laughing. "You have to ask out the object of your desire before anyone else does."

Everyone stared and Hermione's mouth was open. Since when did Harry become such an expert on relationships? It really didn't seem like him to KNOW all that. He used to be hopeless with Cho…

Tom, however, was furious at being given advice. "Mind your own business, Delacour, or I'll report you. Now, get back to work!" Tom turned his back abruptly, but Hermione saw him give her a flicker of a smile.

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The next week went by without any problems. Hermione and Tom made smalltalk which was getting better and better and more private every day and he even seemed friendlier to her. Strike!

One morning she went down to breakfast slightly late and noticed a small Slytherin boy – probably a first year - following her. She turned around abruptly. "Yes?"

"I – I'm s-supposed t-to give you th-this." The boy stuttered, bright red in the face and not looking at her. He held out a piece of parchment and Hermione took it, thanking him kindly. Poor kid was scared of her. She smirked inwardly; this was the price of being in Slytherin, obviously.

When the boy hurried off, she quickly unfolded it.

Slughorns untidy scrawl.

'Probably an invitation to his Club party.' Hermione thought.

She was right. This evening already.

When she arrived in the Great Hall, she noticed, Tom getting up and approaching her. "Hermione." he greeted. "So I see you got your invitation as well?" he motioned to the parchment she was holding in her hand.

"Yes. This evening. He could have given us a bit of a notice beforehand."

Tom shook his head. "He never does that, because he thinks he is so important, but I agree with you."

"What are these meetings like?" Hermione asked although she knew of course.

Tom smiled, not smirked and this time Hermione noticed that even his eyes were crinkled. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough."

"That bad?" Hermione asked doubtfully, but secretly pleased that Tom had given her a real smile.

"I'll be there too, so it won't be THAT bad." Tom grinned and Hermione giggled at that remark. 'Ugggh, too Lavenderish…' she chastised herself, but couldn't help it. In the presence of Tom, the usually feisty, self-confident and upright Hermione melted like butter. A mistake, if ever she saw one.

"That's good to hear then." Hermione said, blushing a bit.

"Wear something formal." Tom told her when Hermione made her way to the table. "Slughorn likes his students to look good."

Formal? She didn't have any dresses Hermione thought in panic. And she wasn't that good at transfiguring clothes.

Oh dear.

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In transfiguration, Hermione was almost bored to tears. They had to transfigure apples into forks and in front of Hermione, there was a gleaming silver fork with the Slytherin engraving. The only other student who had mastered the spell at the first time was – of course – the Dark Lord himself. He leaned back in his chair comfortably, his arms crossed, a slight smirk gracing his lips.

"You've already done the spell before, Miss Delacour?" Dumbledore asked genially.

"Several times." Hermione said in a bored voice. She transfigured the fork back into an apple and back into a fork again – wordlessly.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows appreciatively. "Very well. 20 points to Slytherin. As well for you, Tom."

She was about to shoot Tom a look of mutual triumph, but at that instant, Eileen next to her moaned. "I hate this spell. It's so complicated."

Hermione smiled. "Do you need help?"

Eileen scowled and Hermione took it as a yes.

Indeed, Eileen mastered the spell soon after and awarded Hermione with a rare smile.

"So… what do you awnt?" she asked cautiously.

"What do you mean?" Hermione made her eyes look wide and innocent. "Why do Slytherins always think that we want something in return if we help the others?"
What a ludicrous thought.

Eileen actually cracked a smile. "I am a Slytherin myself, Hermione."

Well – fair point.

Hermione blushed. "Well – I'm invited to Slughorns meeting tonight and Tom told me to wear something formal, but I don't have anything formal. No "formal" dress at least."

"So you want to borrow a dress?" Eileen clarified and she suddenly reminded Hermione of Luna.

"Yes, please. Do you have one I can borrow?"

Eileen's face turned sour again. "Sure."

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After a few transfigurations, Eileen's dress, a midnight blue dress with white stripes (marine look) fit her perfectly. It was made of soft shiny material and Hermione had to admit that she loved it.

She had straightened her hair and put it up and let Eileen do the make-up. All in all, she found that she didn't look too bad.

"You look beautiful." Eileen said frowning.
Hermione had long since found out that a sour frown was Eileen's normal face.

"Thank you." Hermione said thrown.

"Tom will be speechless."

"Uhm… what do you mean? Tom?"

"He will be there too, won't he?"

"And so will several other people."

"Come on, Hermione, we all know that Tom likes you…" Eileen rolled her eyes. "At least, it's obvious."

"What? No way!" Hermione shuddered, but she felt mollified and slightly… excited at the thought of seeing him again.

"Well then, have fun."

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She opened the classroom door to Professor Slughorns study. Half of the Slug Club was already there and so was Slughorn. To Hermione's relief, Tom also wasn't here yet.

"Miss Delacour." Slughorn boomed genially. "So glad you could make it. Let me introduce you to the rest of my little club. So this is Percival Flint; his father works in the Ministry at the Law enforcement. This young boy is Frederic McLaggen; his uncle works as an unspeakable. And this young man is a Gryffindor…" Slughorn chuckled. "His brother plays for Puddlemere United – Peter Wood."

Hermione shook hands with good old Sluggie's favourites and didn't notice Tom and his Slytherin cronies walk in.

"There you are, Tom!" Slughorn clapped his hands together. "But you already know Hermione of course." He winked roguishly at the pair. "And you know them too… Avery, Lestrange, Rookwood. Very well."

He motioned for everyone to sit down and then began his meeting. Hermione prepared herself for a dull hour, Slughorn boasting about himself and his connections, but strangely enough, that wasn't what happened.

Slughorn had organized house elves *cringe* to serve them the newest ice cream flavours, butter beer and tea. Lovely.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised; it was even easy to endure Slughorn's long winded talks about his famous connections. "And then can you believe it – he offered me free tickets." Slughorn boasted and the majority of the male students cheered. "Whenever I feel like going to a game, I just have to send him an owl and I get free tickets for the front row."

"Awwwww…" the students said. Only Tom looked stonily at the walls.

"Hey." Hermione said quietly so that Slughorn couldn't hear. "Don't you like quidditch?"

"Like?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "I absolutely hate it. I don't play it and I don't watch it. End of story."

Hermione giggled. "Understandable."

"Bored?" Tom asked quietly when Slughorn went from one long-winded story to another one without so much as a breath.

Hermione nodded imperceptively.

"Tell you what. I'll meet you in the kitchens in fifteen minutes, okay?"

She smiled. "Okay."