A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so pleased that you are enjoying this take on the whole time turner scenario, because I do think it's a little different than usual! Also, I don't want to shock anyone, so here is your smut warning for this chapter... You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven next week!

May 1945

Tom was not idle with the information he'd gleaned from Hermione's memory. He did not want to become the hideous monster that he'd grown into last time, and that meant securing employment that wasn't at Hogwarts or at Borgin and Burke's.

After working with Abraxas Malfoy, he was able to secure an informal meeting with Brutus Malfoy. Brutus would be at Hogwarts for a meeting of the Board of Governors and it just so happened to fall on a Hogsmeade weekend, the last of the school year.

Brutus Malfoy wouldn't deen to meet at the dingy Hog's Head, especially not with the lingering rumors about Aberforth Dumbledore and his goats. Instead, he arranged to meet at a private room in the village's lone tea shop - Stretton's Tea and Fine Porcelain. A rather stuffy place, Tom immediately felt out of place when he entered the establishment, even though his robes were immaculately cleaned.

This was the kind of establishment that thus far had been unavailable to him by way of his lack of family connection. But, with Abaxas by his side, no one gave him a second look.

Brutus was already waiting for them with a tea setting, halfway through a scone with clotted cream and raspberry jam. He was a slight and angular man, not unlike Abraxas, but he seemed harder than the silly fifth year. Even with his pink treat in hand, Tom knew that Brutus was not someone to be trifled with, though he might seem charming enough.

"Father," Abraxas said in greeting. "This is Tom Riddle, the wizard I was telling you about."

"Good afternoon, Tom Riddle. Please sit," Brutus answered, looking him up and down and offering him an empty cup to pour his tea. "Abraxas tells me that you are Head Boy and certain to do better than anyone in your class in your NEWTs."

"Yes, I am very ambitious," Tom agreed, not bothering to be humble. He knew that he was an excellent student, and he saw no point in trying to hide that fact.

Brutus smirked at him. "Abraxas told me that as well. A true Slytherin."

"A true Slytherin, yes. The heir of Slytherin you could even say," Tom boasted, proud to share his heritage. "I have even inherited Salazar Slytherin's ability to speak to snakes."

Abraxas gasped at the admission, clearly unaware of the detail. Brutus seemed surprised, but not completely convinced either. "But you are only a half-blood," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I am unfamiliar with the family name Riddle."

Tom bit down hard on his tongue to stop from growling at Malfoy for questioning his lineage. "Yes, I'm the unfortunate product of my mother's affair with a muggle," Tom said confidently. He was going to need to embrace his background or wear it heavy for the rest of his life in shame. "Her name was Merope Gaunt. I'm sure you've heard of them."

This time Brutus was surprised. Who hadn't heard of the Gaunt family and the ruin that they'd become? Tom knew that he was the last connection to this once great family, even if he was just a half-blood.

"That explains your commitment to pureblood tradition and ideology," Brutus said after a brief period of silence. He must have been wondering if his son had been woefully misguided about the wizard's beliefs.

"Yes, I think it's very important that we don't allow the old ways to be snuffed out by the inclusion of muggleborns. We've given too much thought to muggles and how to hide ourselves from them," Tom explained. "For a long time I thought that excluding muggleborns from joining our world was the best way to preserve the traditions."

"And that is no longer your belief?" Brutus questioned. Although it was not what he was expecting to hear, perhaps, he still seemed open to Tom's line of reasoning. This was something that Edmund's father would never have been able to do.

Thinking of Hermione tucked back in her tower, Tom shook his head. How could you exclude muggleborns when some were as magically powerful as Hermione? How could half-bloods be looked down on when he was a half-blood and he was by and far the best in his year? "I think we need to bring the muggleborns in even earlier now, so that we can help them assimilate to their culture," he explained smoothly. "The Ministry isn't concerned enough with muggleborns. They let them be indoctrinated by muggles for eleven years before bringing them into our world. How could they ever hope to fully participate in our traditions?"

"Don't you think the muggleborns will always want to live between worlds?" Brutus asked, wanting to see how far Tom had thought this through. "The muggles are still their family."

"Their families will never be able to understand them the way wizards do," Tom said. "Muggles are inherently mistrustful of magic, and the muggleborns will be able to sense that, especially when they see the welcome that they receive in our world."

"So instead of shutting them out of our world, you want them to shut out the muggle one," Brutus said, sounding amused. "That's a bold idea."

"Perhaps," Tom conceded. He was sure it would take a lot of convincing to get what he wanted out of the Ministry. "But muggleborns aren't going away, and if we don't offer them a place to learn about themselves then the muggles might recognize them and use their magic against us at some point in the future."

"I hadn't thought of that." Brutus frowned. Beside him, Abraxas looked quite pale at the idea.

"Muggles can be quite destructive. You should see what their world war is doing right now," he deadpanned. Wizards had no concept of the kind of weapons muggles could make without any magic at all. He was sure they would be quite horrified.

"I see," Brutus said, with a nod. "And what is it that you want from me?"

Tom swallowed. This was the part that he hated...that he would always hate. "Well, seeing as I am an orphan without a powerful family name behind me, I lack the resources to get the sort of foothold into the Ministry that I would need to to be truly effective," he explained.

Tom wouldn't beg, so if that is what Brutus Malfoy wanted out of him, he was going to be sorely disappointed. Hopefully his keen mind and bold ideas would be enough to convince the other man that Tom Riddle, young though he may be, was the kind of wizard you wanted to throw your support behind.

"My wife and I take a particular interest in keeping pureblood traditions alive," Brutus finally said, with his lips pursed together. "But what I'm most interested in is making money. I'm thinking that if we go to war with the muggles, it won't be a good omen for our economy."

"Correct," Tom agreed.

"I'll arrange for you to get a flat in London, while you are getting your feet under you," Brutus explained. "And I believe that my friend the Secretary of Magical Cooperation is in need of a new Under Secretary. The job is yours, if..."

"If?" Tom asked, wondering what sort of humiliation Brutus was expecting out of him.

"If you still meet with my wife after graduation," he said with a grin. "If she agrees to you, I'll agree to you."

"That's a fair deal," Tom agreed, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to charm Mrs. Malfoy. He'd been doing it to his professors for the last seven years, and he was sure a society witch wouldn't be any more difficult.

Brutus stood to leave the little tea shop. "It was a pleasure to meet you Tom Riddle. I agree with Abraxas...I think you are going to do great things," he acknowledged. "Good bye, Abraxas. I expect you to do well on your OWLs." And then he apparated away.

Abraxas was grinning wildly. "That went very well, Tom. He was really impressed with you," the blond fawned over him.

Tom had not got the impression that their introduction went particularly well. He suspected that Brutus thought he was some sort of radical to be humored...a way to put your eggs in many baskets to see which one would hatch. But, he wouldn't be bothered with it.

"The rest of the guys aren't going to like this though...diplomacy over rebellion," Abraxas continued with a frown. "I get the impression that several of them were very much looking forward to taking over by force."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Well, they can either fall in line or get out of the way," he snarled, catching the younger wizard by surprise. "Without me they wouldn't be able to successfully take over Hogsmeade let alone all of England."

It was true. The rest of the Knights were too spoiled and well-positioned to come up with any kind of mischief on their own. They would all do exactly what their fathers told them to if they didn't have anyone else to look to. Tom was sure that his new idea of how to grasp power was not nearly as sexy as the idea of rising up, but now that he had Hermione's future knowledge, he needed to avoid that method at all costs. He would not end up dead at the hands of some toddler who couldn't even speak in full sentences.

"Let's just avoid telling the Knights for a little while longer, Abraxas," Tom said, knowing that he was going to have to break the news eventually, but he was dreading it.

"Whatever you say, Tom," Abraxas agreed readily.

"Now, I need to go see a witch about a ward," Tom said, standing, knowing that he wanted nothing more than to spend the afternoon wrapped in Hermione's arms. She grounded him, made all the uncertainty and flux seem less daunting.

"Your secret witch?" Abraxas asked with a smirk. "You know, I am sure mother and father would love to meet her, too. You should bring her with."

Tom returned his smirk, thinking about strolling into Malfoy Manor with Hermione on his arm. Would Madame Malfoy be horrified at the idea of a mudblood sitting in her gardens, he wondered? "I might just do that," he said, not giving the other wizard any hint of who his witch was.

If Abraxas thought that Tom was going to divulge that, he would remain disappointed.

Once he was free of the stuffy tea house, Tom started for the path back up to the castle. He made the journey in record time, wanting to share the good news with his witch. He climbed the stairs to the transfiguration tower in double time, before continuing up to the Dark Tower.

Hermione stood from her spot in the window seat when he waltzed in. "I watched you coming back from Hogsmeade," she said with a shy smile. "I hoped you'd come to visit me."

Tom wrapped her in his arms, holding her to him. "I just had the most promising meeting with Brutus Malfoy," he told her, grabbing her by the delicate curve of her jaw, turning her face up to look at his. He pressed his lips to hers in a lingering kiss, nipping her lower lip in a promise of what was yet to come. "He's arranging a flat for me in London to live in after school, so we will have somewhere to live."

"We?" Hermione squeaked out in surprise, her cheeks going pink.

"Of course you'll live with me," Tom scoffed, giving her a pinch on the arse. "Where else would you go?"

She bit her lower lip, obviously thinking it over. "I hadn't really thought about it before," she said, before looking at him shyly through her uncommonly long eyelashes. "But, if you'd have me, I'd...I'd love to live with you, Tom."

He guided them towards the settee, pulling Hermione to sit next to him. "He'll also give me an allowance," Tom said with a bitter taste in his mouth. "And a nearly guaranteed position as Under Secretary in the Department of Magical Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic."

"Oh Tom! That's brilliant!" Hermione said, brightening considerably. She turned her body to face his, ready to press a dozen kisses on his face.

"It doesn't feel that brilliant," he told her. Hermione was probably the only person who he could share his real feelings with. If any of his friends thought for even a second that he wasn't committed to this new direction of his, they would pounce on him. They would try to convince him to go back to his original idea.

But with Hermione, he could actually open up about his insecurities. Who was she going to tell? Certainly not Dumbledore - there was already too much bad blood between them. And if she told anyone when they left Hogwarts, he would tell them her dirty little secret...about being an unauthorized time traveler.

If anyone would understand the way that he was bucking against the new constraints working at the Ministry put on him, it would be her.

"Why not?" she asked, sounding dumbfounded. "I think that sounds like an excellent way to establish yourself in the right circles."

"I don't want to be seen as just a charity case, Hermione," he groused. "Brutus still looks at me like I'm a poor little orphan that needs to be nurtured. But I'm not."

"So then don't accept his offer," Hermione countered, ever pragmatic.

"But that's just it...I do need his help. I need someone's help," Tom said, feeling miserable. He wanted to hate Hermione for pushing him to do it this way, but he knew deep down she had his best interests at heart. "I need money, otherwise I will have nowhere to go when I leave Hogwarts."

She looked at a loss for words, unsure of how she could cheer him up. Eventually, a determined look came over her face. "So prove to them that you aren't a weak little orphan, Tom," she said, giving him a pep talk. "Show them how far you can rise. You will be much more than an Under Secretary once you are through with the Ministry."

Tom could feel his chest puff out at her words. It was true. Brutus Malfoy would be a helpful stepping stone, but in a few years, he would be looking to Tom Riddle for what to do.

"Just think of all that you'll be able to accomplish," she continued, obviously pleased that he'd chosen to head her warnings. "I know it's not what you wanted, but I am sure you'll come to see that it's better, if you just give it a little bit of time."

He shrugged. "That remains to be seen. There is much of my life you don't know about, even in your future," he said with a frown. "Perhaps working at Borgin and Burkes isn't what made me into the monster of your future."

Hermione scoffed. "Clearly delving so deeply into Dark Magic is what made you into the Voldemort I knew," she countered. "Trying to make so many horcruxes fractured your soul and made you paranoid and weak."

If there was one thing Tom didn't appreciate, it was being called weak. He instantly bristled.

"Now that we know, we can work on restoring your soul," she added gently.

"Oh, and you've just decided this for me, have you, Hermione?" he sneered. "There is no way that I'm going to give up my horcruxes, not when they all but ensure my immortality. Don't be ridiculous."

That was apparently not the reaction Hermione was expecting, because she looked exceedingly cross with him. "What's so bad about being mortal?" she asked, raising her voice. "I'm mortal."

Her statement gave him pause. She was obviously against horcruxes, but maybe he could help Hermione see the benefit. She was beginning to mean far too much to him to let her just be taken from him by a bout of dragon pox or a rival. He would have to think on that longer.

"I'm not going to let some happenstance kill me," Tom countered through gritted teeth. "My mother was stupid enough to die a few days after I was born and it left me in an orphanage to this day. I'm not going to die and chance that I haven't accomplished everything I've wanted to."

Something in her look softened when he talked about being in the orphanage. But, Hermione was not going to let some sob story get in the way of an argument. "Don't make this about that, Tom," she said. "There are other ways to secure your legacy. To make sure that the people you leave behind are well cared for that doesn't involve stuffing pieces of your soul into some object."

He wanted to tell her that she had his intentions entirely wrong. He hadn't thought about the people he'd be leaving behind, just all of the things he wanted to accomplish. Tom didn't have any loved ones to speak of. He'd never contemplated the idea of marriage or of children, but now he supposed it was only logical if he wanted to continue his bloodlines.

A brief flicker of some future moment - of Hermione and their child - passed through his mind, before he squashed it in its place, unwilling to pine for something that may never exist.

"I don't see what the problem is. I've already created the horcruxes and they are there. There is no point in destroying them, when they are perfect failsafe," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't appreciate arguing over his very soul with her as if she had a say in it.

"Your soul is fractured and it is bound to cause problems," Hermione continued, as if she knew everything. "And it's not failsafe - my friend destroyed your Diary when he was twelve years old!"

Tom scoffed at the idea. "From how you explain it, my basilisk's venom destroyed the Diary, not your friend," he countered, not liking her suggestion. Hermione had only been too happy to share his failures with him, and Tom lapped them up wanting to know how he could avoid them.

"Why are you being so stubborn about this?" Hermione asked, pressing her hands to the sides of her head. "Don't you see that I'm just trying to help you?"

"Me? Stubborn?" he asked sarcastically, thinking that he had never met someone as stubborn as Hermione was. She was always convinced she had the right of things, even when she didn't. "And why should you even want to help me? Only because I'm the only one willing to get you out of here."

Since he knew of their shared future, Tom had grown increasingly curious about Hermione's motives for helping him avoid the disastrous future she'd come from. Of course, part of him knew that she was trying to prevent the horrors Voldemort had created, but she had to know that a tiger never truly changed its stripes. A deep part of him worried that she would only help him so long as he helped her get out of the tower. What happened at the end remained to be seen.

Hermione was shaking her head at him. "Oh, you stupid wizard," she said, disdain dripping in her voice.

Before Tom was entirely sure what was happening she was climbing into his lap, lips pressed against his, hard enough that he could feel his teeth pressed hard against his lips. Taking advantage of his stunned state, Hermione deepened the kiss, opening her mouth to him. She moaned when her tongue slid against his, claiming his mouth for himself. Her fingers carded through his hair, holding him against her.

Tom broke off the kiss. "What is happening?" he asked, confused. How had they gone from an argument to a snog so quickly?

"Just shut up and come with me to the bed," she commanded, bossy as ever.

Tom felt his heart racing at the idea, wondering what she had planned for them. For once, he didn't feel particularly inclined to argue with her.

She stood up from her spot on his lap and grabbed him by the hand. It took them only a few steps to get from the settee and stumble into the unmade bed that dominated one corner of the room. Hermione pulled him on top of her, only to engage in another blistering hot kiss.

Tom was only too happy to oblige. He would kiss her until he drowned in her, if that's what she wanted. He let his tongue slip against hers, plundering her mouth and showing her who she belonged to. He cupped one breast, pinching her nipple through the fabric of her robes, desperately wishing that there was nothing to separate them.

Hermione moaned. Tom was sure he'd never heard a prettier noise. His body filled up with a heat that left him feeling drunk - a desperation that only Hermione would be able to quench. And she was only happy to do it.

She gave as good as she got. Ever since he had first found her, their interactions had been tinged with a fierce intensity that was usually displayed in their heated arguments. But he was pleased to learn that it was something she held in their more amorous pursuits as well. Hermione gave a good fight for taking charge in their encounters. She seemed to have a leg up on him in terms of her boldness and knowledge of carnal matters.

But she would always yield to him in the end.

And even if she tried to deny, Tom could tell that she loved when he finally took the lead. She squirmed against him, her hips rocking helplessly against his leg, something he'd learned meant that she needed to ease the ache between her legs. She keened against his lips, before breaking their kiss when she just couldn't stand it anymore.

Biting her lower lip, she dropped her eyes to his chest, before greedy little fingers got to work freeing him from his shirt.

Tom was stunned for a moment when she parted the fabric and pushed it back over his shoulders. A small part of him was worried about what she might think of his body. He was quite vain and knew that he was good looking, but this was the first time anyone had seen him this way, this vulnerable.

He needn't have worried.

She smoothed her hands down his arms, over his chest, admiring the sparse bit of hair in the center of his chest. Her fingertips trailed down his stomach until they found the top of his trousers. She pressed her face into his neck, her breath heavy on his neck when she touched the metal of his belt buckle.

The muscles of his abdomen jumped of their own accord at the feather light touch. Tom thought he might just drown in sensation at the feeling of her, but he managed to keep his focus. The thought of finally seeing Hermione in all her glory was too large of a reward to lose his focus now.

Fumbling for his wand, he cast a quick divesto leaving Hermione in just her undergarments, before dropping it off the edge, forgotten for now. He leaned back, eager to see what her lack of robes revealed to him.

Hermione was lovelier than he'd even imagined in his dreams. Her skin was pale but flush with pinkness. Her breasts were small but perfect. Slim arms remained glued to her sides as though she were fighting to not cover herself from his gaze. His eyes darted past her small waist and gently rounded hips to the silken knickers she wore - far more luxurious than he would have expected. His heart beat wildly in his ribcage. She was more than he could ever want.

Tom trailed his eyes back up her body, drinking in all of her loveliness, until he found her eyes. Her curls were splayed out on the pillow, her lower lip caught in between her teeth. Her eyes, huge and brown, looked nervous...waiting for whatever his pronouncement would be.

He loomed over her, until their noses were touching. "Perfect," he whispered, only to press a kiss against her lips. "And all mine."

The wizard hoped she understood what he meant when he said that. There was no way that he was going to let her waltz out of his life, not now that she'd forced her way into it. He would possess her - mind, body and soul.

Catching her lower lip between his teeth, Tom gave her an affectionate nip. His own hands returned to his belt, wanting to be free of his trousers. He gave a disappointed growl when he had to break their kiss to focus long enough to push down his trousers, kicking them off the edge of the bed.

Hermione was not idle. She had reached behind her and released the clasp of her brassiere. Truthfully, he was glad for it, not wanting to make a fool of himself trying to figure out how the thing worked.

She gave him a small grin when his attention was immediately taken by her breasts, tipped with small pink nipples. Like a moth to a flame, his hand cupped one. She shuddered at the contact, overcome with the sensation.

Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, before pulling him down against her. Tom settled between her parted hips, trying not to buck against her center. His pulse raced even faster when he realized how little separated them in that moment. Was this really going to happen?

Salazar, he hoped so.

He kissed her, only to let his hand trail down the curve of her waist, to the edge of her knickers. She moaned, pressing herself against him. Pleased that she seemed to want it to, he slid his fingers until the fabric and pulled hoping to free her of them. She happily obliged, kicking the garment down her shapely legs.

Hermione broke their kiss and pressed her lips against his neck, before pressing her hands to his hips, pushing his briefs down as well.

He swallowed thickly, all confidence of being in charge leaving him when they were finally as naked as could be in front of one another. Tom settled his body against her once again, this time hissing when he felt the heat of her cunt, and the familiar slickness of her desire against his cock. Unbidden, his hips thrust against her, some primal instinct guiding him.

She seemed to like it as much as him, because she was rewarding him with a delighted gasp. Her lips kissed him wherever she could, eager to show him how much she wanted him.

Again, he rocked against her, amazed at how easy it was to slide against her. He wanted to do it again and again and again, so long as she would continue to make those little moans through parted lips.

It wasn't enough for her though. She met his eyes, her pupils so large that he nearly couldn't see the brown any more, and gave him a look of such longing. "Please Tom, please," she begged.

Her words were nearly his undoing. His eyes slipped closed while he tried to regain control of himself. Although Tom might not have lost his virginity yet, he wasn't completely clueless about sex. He knew the mechanics of it enough to not embarrass himself. Grasping his cock, he slid the head along her slit until he found that small valley. Guiding himself, he entered inch by inch until he was fully seated inside of her.

If he'd thought that being pressed against her wet sex had been lovely, being inside of her was life changing.

Tom took a moment to look at her. Her eyes were shut tightly while she took short breaths out of parted lips, her body adjusting to the intrusion. He was grateful for the pause, because he was sure he'd spill himself in her if he tried to move now. Once she'd relaxed, he knew it was safe to continue.

Pulling out, he thrust back forward, pleased to hear Hermione's surprised squeak of pleasure. Her own hips pressed against him, apparently wanting to be as close to him as possible. It took the pair of them a few strokes to work out the rhythm that words best for them, but they were both quick learners.

He hadn't known anything could feel quite this good. Tom stared into her eyes, surprised by the connection he felt with this witch. She was perfect, she was his, she was everything.

Tom was chasing that familiar peak with each stroke pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He pressed his face into her crook of Hermione's neck, his nose breathing in her scent. He was surrounded by her and he couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be.

And then, he snapped, with one last thrust, burying himself deep in her welcoming body. The pleasure rolled over him in waves, and he heard himself calling out her name again and again. Her cries filled his ears and he could feel her tightening around him, as if she didn't want to give him up.

Hermione.

He wasn't sure how long he laid boneless on top of her, but she wasn't complaining. Eventually, he rolled off of her, utterly spent. Pulling her body to coil against him, Tom wanted nothing more than to drift off to sleep, listening to the rhythmic sound of her breathing.

But he knew it was too dangerous.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You're mine," he repeated. "I'm not letting you go."

Hermione gave him a little noise of agreement, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

"I want to stay, but I think we both know I need to go," he said, letting the disappointment bleed into his voice. He stood from the bed reluctantly, finding his briefs and trousers and pulling them on. "I'll come back as soon as I can," he promised.

Once he was dressed, he pulled the covers up over Hermione, tucking her in. She looked like a princess, with her hair all over the pillow, cheeks pink and lips parted.

He pressed one last kiss on her cheek. "Until next time."