Now that the movements were noted down and memorised, Hermione had to focus on the casters of the spell.
Tom and Abraxas.
This would be the tricky part. She knew that much. How was I supposed to duplicate the exact emotions? It was impossible.
Classes were getting irritating, a stark difference to how she usually viewed them. And Hermione found herself spending most of her time in classes thinking about her real work here.
Dumbledore began to notice, but Hermione had a feeling that the future Headmaster wanted nothing more to do with her future or her past.
Weston, Ben and her had drifted apart since they found out she had begun to, as they called it, 'date' Tom Riddle. Hermione had tried explaining that it was not what they thought it was and that they were just friends, but the two boys had known better.
And if she was being honest with herself, she knew too.
They'll come around sooner or later. We're still friends after all.
Tom helped her with the new dilemma she was facing. Although he seemed to do it half-heartedly. As though he would much rather be doing something else.
But he still came to her every day to the library and Hermione was grateful to have him there for conversation and to ask him for advice.
Hermione enjoyed working with him. On both a professional level and a personal one. She wanted to go out on a date again and she wanted to kiss him again. Actually kiss him, not short, not rushed, but real.
This was all despite her better judgement and her willingness to go home.
Tom was a good person and he had given up his time and his wants to help me. Still, what was going on? Whatever it was that was going on. It needed to stop.
I was going home to a different time and we did not belong together...
Abraxas was up to something.
It was as clear as the nose on Tom's face - he was up to something.
And yet Tom had still made no move to question him.
What is wrong with me? Instead of changing Hermione, she seems to have been changing me! And I have allowed it!
Yet I could not bring myself to be angry with her or to break off ties with her. She was a good match for me. A good challenge.
His mind returned to the topic it had been lingering on since the day the spell had finally worked.
I don't want Hermione to go home.
His footsteps moved up the stairs to the his dorm. He moved slowly, lost in thought, a contrast to his usual fast pace that used to grace those same stairs.
Something else had been bugging him, too. It was something he did not want to think about. Something he knew would cost him dearly if he were to carry it out.
He couldn't shake it.
It was well known to The Knights of Walpurgis, as well as the rest of Slytherin house, that when Tom Riddle had an idea, when he wanted something, he would do almost anything to see it through.
But this time he needed control. He needed to resist the temptation or he would regret it in the end. He knew that, at least.
Tom pushed open the door to the dormitory, watching lazily as the Knights scrambled to stand up when he entered. I no longer felt much satisfaction at their adoration of him.
Tom spoke, waving his hand dismissively, "Return to what you were doing. I'm going to rest." His words earned confused and fearful looks from the Knights as he made his way to his four poster bed. He drew the tapestries around himself, covering the mattress and himself from view.
He went to sleep early that night, his mind reeling with thoughts that he would much rather have kept locked away.
The pen scratched across the parchment quickly. The pale hand rapidly writing down treacherous secrets and words of betrayal.
The parchment was left to dry for a moment and was then rolled up, sealed with wax and given to a barn owl at the classroom window.
The owl flew off of the ledge and away from the castle, the incriminating parchment held in its sharp claws.