Beautiful Secrets

. . . .

Hermione sat down on the grass with Theo and Blaise during their flying lessons that was apparently mandatory for all first years.

It was ridiculous to subject those who had no interest in the class to sit through it. She wouldn't ride on any broom, magical or not, that was a risk to her life— not if she could help it.

"There he goes again," Theo muttered under his breath. "Always messing with that Evans kid and Hadrian spurring him on."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione shook her head. "It was your turn to watch him."

"Let him have his fun," Blaise said with a shrug of his shoulder. "Besides what— what in the world is Evans doing?"

Hermione quickly turned her attention to Evans as he took off on his broom, zooming through the sky. Sighing heavily, she laid back, thinking of the many ways she could approach the Gryffindor.

It had only been a week since she arrived at Hogwarts so she wasn't really concerned how slow her progress was to retrieve the information she needed to report to Tom involving Evans. She had time. She'd give herself the end of the month to try and befriend the boy.

"Who cares," Hermione muttered. "Let the coach worry about him."

. . . .

Sitting in the Great Hall, there was a rumor spreading around that Evans had made it on the Gryffindor quidditch team. They had bent the rules for him. She had to agree with Draco, it wasn't fair.

"— and first years aren't allowed to have brooms and he has one, a nimbus two thousand, mind you!" Draco whined, stomping his foot. "It isn't fair! Wait until my father hears about this! I'm going to owl him right now—"

"Stop it!" She yelled at him, shoving at his chest. "Just stop! If you have a problem with him, challenge him to a duel but do not go to your father about this! Do you hear me, Draco Malfoy!"

"I don't think—"

"Shut up, Hades!" Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "Challenge him to a duel and I'll stand in as your second."

Theo snorted. "How do you even know about wizards' duel, anyway?"

Glaring at him, she sniffed, tilting her head up. "I've been reading, Theodore. Besides, you're not going." She turned back to Draco. "Challenge him. Tonight."

"Can I—"

"No," Hermione cut in, shaking her head at Harry. "Just Draco and I will be going."

"Okay," Draco nodded, a bit more confident. "Tonight."

. . . .

Evans nor Weasley, who agreed to step in as his second, had shown. Hermione patted Draco on the back as they made their way back to the dungeons from the Trophy Room.

"What a wanker," Draco muttered under his breath.

Hermione hummed in agreement. "It's alright, Dray. Let the boy be, yeah? We have important—"

"KIDS OUT OF BED! KIDS IN THE CORRIDOR AFTER CURFEW!"

"Oh, shite!" Draco hissed, grabbing Hermione by the arm as he began to run down the corridor. "Peeves!"

They ran, ignoring the poltergeist as he continued to shout out their location. Coming to the end of the corridor, Draco tried pulling the door open, but it was locked.

Pulling out her wand, Hermione tapped the lock. "Alohomora."

The lock clicked and the duo rushed in, slamming the door before Peeves could spot them.

Draco was breathing hard. "That was close. Could you imagine? Father would punish me severely if we were to get—"

"Shh," Hermione hushed. "You do realize where we're at, yes?"

Draco shook his head.

"The third floor corridor!" Hermione exclaimed in a whisper. She snorted. "The one Dumbledore has banned us from going into."

Draco paled, shaking his head. "I— I don't want to die! We have to leave!"

"Oh, shut up—"

His eyes widening in horror, Draco quickly covered her mouth, shaking his head. "Behind you."

Swatting his hand away, Hermione slowly turned and gasped. There was a three headed dog sleeping right in front of them. It's fur was coal-black and humongous, it's head almost reaching the ceiling… and it was lying down!

"Draco," she whispered, her heartbeat pounding erratically. "Open. The. Door. Slowly."

Hermione didn't dare turn around to check if he had listened to her, but once she heard the door click open, she began to back away, cautiously, until she was standing on the other side of the threshold— Filch and Peeves be damned. Gasping, she pushed Draco aside and slammed the door shut.

"What the bloody hell!" Draco hissed, running his fingers through his hair. "Did—" he chuckled manically. "Did you bloody see that?!"

Hermione grabbed his arm and began to lead him down the corridor until they reached the dungeons, deep in thought, as Draco kept rambling on about the three headed dog and James bloody Evans being a coward and—

Sighing heavily, Hermione slapped the back of his head. "Would you shut up." She snapped. "Did you not see what the beast was standing on?"

"Er— no?" Draco said, scowling. "Must you hit me—"

"It was sleeping on a trapped door, Draco." Hermione said annoyed. "Which means it's guarding something."

Realization shone in his eyes but then he furrowed his brows. "What could it possibly be protecting?"

Shaking her head, Hermione stepped into the common room. "I don't know, but tell Theo and Hades when you go up, yeah? We're going to figure it out."

Hermione ignored his groan as she bounded up the stairs leading to her dorm room.

. . . .

Dinner was a right mess. She'd thought Draco would somewhat understand how annoying his obsession with Evans was but he clearly didn't. All he did was go on and on about that stupid boy and Hermione was literally thinking of hexing his mouth shut. It didn't help either that Harry would encourage the blonde pureblood prat— along with Crabbe and Goyle. Those two dunderheads were the worst at absolutely everything.

At least Theo was competent enough to keep up with her.

Hermione was exhausted and, instead of heading to the library, she'd thought she would head to bed.

Parkinson pushed Hermione aside as she glided up the stairs heading up towards their dorm room.

"Watch it, mudblood," Greengrass hissed as Parkinson cackled.

Davis sighed, shaking her head. "It's a shame you still don't know your place, filth."

"That's it," she muttered under her breath as Hermione glared at the girls stepping into their shared dorm room. "Enough is enough."

Do it, my little Hermione.

Kill them.

Rolling her eyes at her siren, Hermione slowly made her way up the stairs. No, she wouldn't kill them. She'd humiliate them.

. . . .

Laying in bed, Hermione smiled softly when she opened the journal.

'Happy Birthday, dove.

Quickly, she scribbled, 'and how did you know it was my birthday?'

'I know everything. I thought you knew that?'

Hermione snorted, shaking her head. She quickly responded with, 'thank you. Honestly.'

'Visit me soon, dove.'

Sighing heavily, Hermione pressed her nib against the journal. 'I will as soon as I find out more about James Evans. I'm going to figure out what Dumbledore has hidden on the third floor. He has a three headed dog guarding a trap door, Tom! A three headed dog!'

'Well, I think that should be easy to figure out, dove.'

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione wrote, 'if you know how to get past the dog, Tom, I'm all ears.'

'Research it, Hermione. Inform me once it's done.'

Pursing her lip, Hermione quickly penned down, 'do you know any hexes or curses I can perform on my tormentors. I'd like to teach them a lesson.'

There was a pause before green ink appeared.

'I'd thought you'd never ask. Go to sleep. I'll have the incantation ready for you come morning, as well as a remedy if you ever feel you're in the state of forgiveness.

Think of it as a birthday present, dove.'

Smiling, Hermione replied, 'thank you. Good night, Tom.'

Quickly closing the journal, Hermione swiftly placed it underneath her mattress, ignoring the laughter echoing in her room. She'd get the four soon enough.

. . . .

"Quirrel is a bumbling idiot," Harry muttered as they walked out of his DADA class.

Hermione glanced back, catching the look of utter distaste on her professor's face. Catching her eye, he quickly changed his features into one of stupidity. If he thought she was dim-witted and couldn't feel the dark aura surrounding him, then he was in for a rude awakening.

Voldemort.

Quirrell… Voldemort.

Hermione nodded in understanding. Of course, Professor Quirrell had something to do with Voldemort— perhaps a lower rank follower.

It surprised Hermione that Dumbledore wasn't able to sense the darkness surrounding him. It was pure evil. Was her aura dark? If Dumbledore hadn't suspected Quirrell then surely she was in the clear as well? No. She had to be careful.

It didn't help at all that she wanted to give into the urge where she wanted to hurt her fellow school-mates. Hermione knew it was the wand but she was maintaining the wood as best as she could— she'd have it in submission in no time.

Facing forward, Hermione turned to Harry and smiled, linking her arm with his. "Oh, I don't know about that."

. . . .

"I don't like that look, Mi," Draco said warily as he scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Nothing good follows when you look like that."

Smiling, Hermione tilted her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"What'd you do?" Harry accused, his eyes narrowed with his fork halfway to his mouth. He quickly set it down and shook his head. "He's right, you look like you're up to something."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, "can't I simply be happy for no reason at all?"

"'For no reason at all'?" Theo butt in, snorting. "No."

"Well," Hermione smiled, "it's my birthday and I'm just happy I'm twelve."

"Happy birthday, Mi!" Harry cheered. "Why didn't you tell us sooner! We could've done, I don't know, something!"

"Happy birthday, Mi," Theo smirked. "Although, that still doesn't explain the look on your face."

Draco threw an arm around her shoulder, beaming. "I can sneak us some sweeties later on in the common room if you'd like." He then squeezed her into a side hug. "Happy birthday, Hermione."

Before she could reply, Greengrass, Parkinson, Davis and Bulstrode began to shriek further down the table.

The hall became silent as everyone turned their attention to the Slytherin girls.

Greengrass quickly stood, covering her face as she began screeching in pain. Parkinson fell backwards off the bench, while Bulstrode and Davis took off out of the Great Hall shrieking in pain, tripping over one another.

"What the—" Harry muttered.

Draco quickly stood to get a better look. "What's happening?"

Hermione lifted the goblet to her lips and shrugged her shoulder. "I don't know."

"My face!" Greengrass screamed, clawing her eyes.

"I— I can't b—breath!" Parkinson screeched.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Severus thundered, storming towards the first year chits.

"Sir," Fawley stood, her mouth gaping as she stared at the girls in horror. "I— I don't know—"

Greengrass dropped her hands and Hermione could hear Theo gasp.

Her face was beyond wrinkled, eyelids drooping over her eyes; long gold locks began to fade into scraggly grey; her back began to hunch over; rosy pink lips thinned out, cracked and dried, the corners sagging and Greengrass cried out in pain as boils and warts began to sprout over her arms and face, the boils bubbling before rupturing with loud pops.

Daphne Greengrass was an ugly old hag.

"Make it stop!" Greengrass sobbed, her voice croaky as she gathered her split-ends between her fingers, blubbering.

"Professor!" Parkinson screamed as she slowly began to stand on her feet. "Help!"

Parkinson's skin was covered in pustules bursting and regrowing instantaneously; there were lime green pus running down her face as it leaked from her eyes, her ears, her nose and her mouth; the short haircut she called a bob cut began to fall out revealing more boils.

The Great Hall began to erupt into boisterous laughter and chatter— majority from the other houses. Hermione hid her smirk behind her goblet as everyone began to lose their composure. The Slytherin's around the two began to back away in disgust; Severus was failing to contain the situation; Greengrass and Parkinson were still wailing about.

It was too bad Davis and Bulstrode had left, Hermione was sure everyone would have enjoyed the pig features the girls were both sporting— no matter, everyone would see them tomorrow. She made sure there wasn't a way for them to reverse her hex and well, she'd lift it eventually, just as soon as she felt they were worthy of her forgiveness.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore roared from where he was standing behind the head table.

The hall followed pursuit, not a sound could be heard apart from Greengrass and Parkinson screeching and wailing uncontrollably.

"Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "Take Miss Greengrass and Miss Parkinson to the Hospital Wing, have Madam Pomfrey see to them."

Grimacing, Severus nodded his head for Fawley and the Head Girl blinked, gently grabbing Parkinson as she followed Severus out of the Great Hall.

"Now," Dumbledore said, sighing heavily. "Miss Greengrass and Miss Parkinson will be properly taken care of. On that note, prefects, escort your house-mates back to your common rooms."

Smirking, Hermione stood from the wooden table, snatching a cupcake as she followed Gemma Farley out of the Great Hall.

Happy birthday, my little Hermione.

Beaming, Hermione murmured under her breath, reveling in pure satisfaction, "it really is a happy birthday."

. . . .

"Is this seat taken?"

"Yes, now back off, snake," Weasley hissed.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione turned to Evans. "Congrats on making the Quidditch team. Quite the accomplishment for a first year."

Evans looked up clearly shocked. "Thank—"

"I said back off," Wesley stood, growling this time. He then smirked. "Sad you weren't busted by Filch that night Malfoy decided to challenge us."

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione nodded. "You set us up."

"And they say your lot is cunning." Weasley smirked. Too bad he didn't put effort in his school work like he did with his clever trap. Idiot.

"Touché, Weasley," Hermione rolled her eyes, "but trust me when I say it won't happen again."

Snorting, Weasley began packing his bags. "Come one, James, let's go."

Evans gave her a sheepish smile as he also began to pack his book bag, hurrying after his red-headed friend.

Eyes narrowed as she watched them go, Hermione knew she'd have to get Evans alone. Weasley was going to be a problem but she'd rectify that situation in no time.

. . . .

"You can't be serious, Mi," Theo said, gaping.

Harry laughed, scooping candied yams onto his plate. "You know that's more than a bit reckless, yeah? We don't run towards danger, Mi. We just don't. We're not stupid, you know."

It was Halloween night and the Great Hall was decorated fantastically for the holiday— bats flying about with lit pumpkins that were carved, floating near the tall ceiling, the ceiling bewitched to display dark clouds and a full moon shining bright.

The deadline she had given herself to find out Evans secrets was way passed and Hermione refused to go back to Tom empty handed. For some odd reason, she wanted to please him, especially since he had wished her a happy birthday and helped her fulfill her revenge for her roommates.

It was sweet that he even bothered.

Now, she wanted to find out what was beyond that trapped door. She had put her time in. She had read and researched and studied so many books in the library and was even ahead in all her classes, almost completely finished with the first year curriculum— and that was a feat Hermione was positive no one had accomplished in the first few months of the school year.

There was no downtime for her and if she wasn't in the library studying, she was in the common room writing her essays for her classes. Even when they had dubbed her a know-it-all mudblood, it hadn't stopped Hermione from completing her school work or finishing a book. She'd been called worse, after all.

While she had Mcgonagall, along with Flitwick, Sprout, Quirrell and even Binns, wrapped around her pretty little finger, Severus Snape, unfortunately, was not. Hermione couldn't be quite sure if it had to do with her dorm mates and he somehow connected it to her, but he was beginning to be a pain in her arse— besides, he had no proof it was her.

He ignored her even when she knew the answers to all his stupid questions — "put your hand down, hes not going to call on you," Theo hissed, "but I know the answer!" — and continued to discredit her — "congratulations, Miss Granger, for your lack of creativity," "let's try using our imagination, hm?" "I believe plagiarism is quite actionable, Miss Granger." — at every opportune moment. He was so infuriating and she could not, for the life of her, find a way to please the old wanker. But she would admit, grudgingly, Severus Snape was an excellent potions master.

Aside from that, Hermione had even racked up quite a bit of house points for Slytherin, more than the other houses, not that it mattered, she was still a mudblood in the eyes of her fellow house-mates. She was determined to win that house cup no matter what it took. She continued to reassure herself she wasn't doing it for her house, but for herself, but it wasn't healthy to keep lying to oneself, anyhow. Stupid.

No.

It was time for Hermione to get her answers and it was the perfect opportunity to push her plans along considering she was going to involve Draco, Theo and Harry. It was a horrible decision but she knew she wouldn't be able to manage on her own as much as she hated to admit to it— she wasn't an idiot.

Before she was able to take another bite of chicken, Professor Quirrell came running in.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" He stopped in the middle of the Great Hall between the Gryffindor and Slytherin table, looking faint. "Thought you ought to know."

He fell, unconscious.

Sharply turning to Draco as the hall burst into screams of terror, she smacked the back of his head.

"Calm down, you oaf," she hissed.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore bellowed. "Prefects, lead your house back to the dormitories."

"How'd you think a troll was brought into the school?" Harry hissed as they followed their prefect out of the Great Hall.

Hermione glanced back as the professors began to talk in quiet tones at the head table.

She shook her head. "I don't know."

. . . .

Sneaking into the infirmary wasn't as easy as Hermione had originally thought it was and she was going to acquire a way to be rid of Peeves forever, including Filch and his stupid cat.

Pulling out her wand, Hermione used it to push the curtain aside, revealing Parkinson. She was whimpering in her sleep, her face distraught.

Slowly, Hermione placed the tip of her wand against a pustule on her cheek and pressed— hard. Parkinson shrieked and she was quick to cover her mouth. The chit's eyes widened in fear and Hermione smirked.

"Isn't Nice when you're on the receiving end of a shite hex, is it, Pansy?" Hermione asked in a hush tone that was dripping with sweetness.

Parkinson shook her head, tears leaking from her eyes.

"You know," Hermione started as she began to move her wand over her face. "I was going to leave you here till the end of the school year but then I thought how cruel that'd be and I don't think I'm a cruel person." She grinned. "Do you?"

The chit shook her head again.

"Would you like to make a deal or would you like to play a game?"

Shaking her head again, Parkinson began to whimper.

"I'm going to remove my hand and you're going to give me an answer, yes?"

Parkinson shivered as she closed her eyes, nodding her head slowly.

Removing her hand steadily, Hermione whispered, "what would you like to do?"

"Make— make a d—deal," Parkinson rasped out whimpering as another boil burst upon her hideous face.

Hermione smirked, "I knew you were smart, Pansy."

Quickly, Hermione pointed her wand and began to mutter under her breath the spell to reverse Parkinson's malady.

Taking a deep breath, Parkinson sighed in relief. She glanced up at Hermione with fear reflecting in her eyes.

"What do you say, Parkinson?" Hermione murmured, her voice coated in faux kindness.

"Thank you—" she croaked.

"—My Queen," Hermione finished, fondness dripping from her voice.

Parkinson closes her eyes. "My Queen."

"As soon as you're released, you will join me at every mealtime, Pans— you mind if I call you Pans, I didn't think so. You'll sit by me, of course," Hermione smirked devilishly, cupping Parkinson's cheek. "Let's keep this between you and I, yes?"

Swallowing audibly, Pansy nodded her head. "Yes…" she whimpered. "My Queen."

Swiftly glancing around the Hospital Wing, Hermione grinned. Greengrass was behind one of the curtains as well as the other dimwits that followed her around mindlessly as if she were some pureblood Princess— and maybe she was, but no more. Hermione was going to end pureblood ideology.

Another day or two for Greengrass to suffer before Hermione reversed the hex— not including Davis and Bulstrode just because she really couldn't stand the two. They were spineless creatures and Hermione couldn't stand stupidity.

"Not a word, Pans." Hermione said. She then tapped Parkinson's temple with her wand, her head glowing a bright blue before it diminished. "Safety measures, you understand."

Parkinson's eyes widened in horror and Hermione rolled her eyes. "I put a block on your mind lest Severus and Dumbledore decided to read it." She pursed her lips. "It'll be painful for you if they try to breach your thoughts, best keep them away, yes?"

Another nod.

"Good." Hermione smirked. "See you later, Pansy."

Oh, it felt good to know magic beyond her years. She scoffed— and they dubbed her as a know-it-all.

Know-it-all, indeed.

. . . .

They were sitting in the library, Hermione, along with Draco, Theo and Harry, as she revealed her plans to get past the three headed dog.

"Your mental," Draco hissed, leaning over the table. "There is no way—"

"If you're out, mate," Harry smirked, shrugging. "Leave."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Hades."

"I've been doing some light reading," Hermione told them, "about three headed dogs." She sighed. "There wasn't much information about them, mind you, so I introduced myself to Professor Kettleburn—"

From Draco: "Who—"

From Theo, giving Draco an exasperated look: "Care of Magical Creatures."

From Harry, scoffing: "of course, you would—"

From Theo, rolling his eyes as he cut Harry off: "Like you would've thought of going to him—"

From Draco, nodding in agreement with Theo: "Yeah, Hades, no offense, but your kind of an idiot."

From Harry, shrugging nonchalantly: "I'm passing, thank you, just because I'm not as studious as the three of you—"

From Theo, who barked out a laugh: "No, you're quite dim-witted—"

From Hadrian, shoving Theo: "Who you callin' dim, you twit—"

From Draco, smirking: "I mean, you are quite dim—"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione breathed heavily ignoring the boys as they continued their banting. The three of them would be the death of her and she found herself debating if she made the right choice of including them in her scheming.

"Damn it," snarled Hermione, "shut up, all of you!"

The boys became quiet.

"I'm not going to force you to come along," Hermione began, staring, head on, at the three boys; Draco, then Harry, then Theo. "But I need to know what Dumbledore is hiding. You're either with me or not."

Sighing heavily, Theo rubbed his temples. "Count me in, Mi."

Harry slowly nodded. "I'm in, but will you explain to us the reason why you want to know so bad?"

"And don't say because you want to know what Dumbledore is up to." Draco added. "I know it's more than that. I can't feel it."

Pursing her lips, Hermione nodded. "I will." The boys looked on with interest. "When it's the right time."

They deflated with forbearance.

"I promise I'll tell you," Hermione assured them. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course, we do," Draco said, smiling softly.

"Well," Harry sighed. "You have mine, Mi."

Theo scoffed when Hermione turned to him. "Do you even have to ask?"

She smiled, nodding her head. "Can we discuss the three headed dog now?"

. . . .

Sitting in the Great Hall, Hermione flipped through her textbook on magical creatures she had checked out. It was interesting enough and, even though she'd rather be reading a potions textbook, she knew that she should at least attempt to be knowledgeable in every single subject the Wizarding world had to offer— that included magical creatures. Besides Muggle Studies. That class was a waste of time. She didn't think anyone in the magical world would be gallivanting and beginning their lives loving along muggles.

"Hermione?" A soft voice whispered.

Glancing up, Hermione grinned. "Pans! Have a seat." Making room for the pureblood girl, she continued to grin. "You must be famished." She began to pile food on the girl's plate. "Eat."

"Thank you," Parkinson whispered. Her hair had grown and her skin was once cleared again but she was still looking a little pale.

"Er—" Harry's confusion was plain as day as he stared at his betrothed. "Mi?"

Lifting a brow, she smirked. "Yes?"

"You— no, I won't—" Harry began to stutter. "Are you— you've lost the plot, haven't you? I am not— not— working with Parkinson!"

"I'll explain later," Hermione hissed at him, containing to roll her eyes. Boys.

Theo chuckled. "This just gets better and better."

Draco snickered, elbowing Harry in the ribs. "It can't be that bad," he turned to Hermione and lifted a brow. "Though quite surprising—"

"And it explains a lot," Theo finished, smirking at Hermione. "How's Daphne, Tracy and Millicent?"

Hermione scoffed, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. Placing her cup back onto the table, she said, "how am I supposed to know?"

Parkinson flinched and Hermione bit her bottom lip from bursting into giggles.

"You alright, Pansy?" Draco asked. "I mean, you look loads better."

"Thank you," she croaked out, nibbling on a sandwich.

Harry's eyes widened, clearly shocked. "Wow," he said, scratching the back of his head.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione patted Parkinson's hand. "Pans and I are going to become best friends, isn't that right?"

Pansy quickly nodded, glancing away. "Yes, we are."

Although Parkinson was quite timid and… not herself, Hermione knew that would change in time. She had to give the chit time to recover.

Smirking, Hermione drained her goblet and stood. "I'll be in the library, see you lot later, yeah?"

Without waiting for a reply, Hermione strolled out of the Great Hall, feeling a giddiness spark within her.

. . . .

The first quidditch game was upon them and Hermione was ushered out the doors between Harry and Draco.

"I don't understand why you hate flying, Mi," Harry muttered. "You haven't even given it a chance."

"Besides," Draco said, "it's Evans' first match and he's sure to make a fool of himself."

"Not to mention, you got to support your house," Harry added.

Sitting between the two, Crabbe and Goyle near Draco, the three snickering and mocking Evans, Hermione scoffed as Gryffindor's seeker had caught the snitch… with his mouth— even when his broom seemed to be cursed.

Gryffindor won.

At least the commentary was quite enjoyable, though he was mostly one sided, still—

"Next time, I'm staying in with Theo," she muttered under her breath.

. . . .

"And will you be going home for Christmas, Miss Granger," Snape drawled.

Hermione lifted a brow. "No, Professor, I'll be staying at the school."

Snape gave a curt nod. "Very well."

As soon as the professor walked away, Draco said, "I can stay with you if you'd like."

Giving him a warm smile, Hermione shook her head. "I'll be fine. I'll most likely bury myself in the library books."

Chucking, he shook his head. "If you say so."

. . . .

It was Christmas and it was depressing while she walked into the Great Hall. Not many had stayed but a handful of kids and she noticed Evans right away.

Clearing her throat, she walked over to the Gryffindor's table and smiled.

"Mind if I join you?" Asked Hermione.

"I don't think—"

Sitting down before Evans could reject her, she smiled. "I'm Hermione Granger. I don't think we've formerly met."

"James Evans," he muttered under his breath, his cheeks growing red. "I'm not sure you can sit there."

"Well," Hermione began, as she made her a plate of food. "If someone says I have to move, I'll go back to my table."

"Why are you even here?" Evans asked suspiciously. "Why are you trying to talk to me?"

Lifting an eyebrow, Hermione said, "I thought that was obvious. I want us to be friends."

The boy scoffed, pushing his plate away. "High chance, Granger. I'm sure your pureblood parents—"

"Pureblood?" Hermione queried. "I'm a muggleborn, Evans."

Furrowing his brows, Evans' eyes became distant. "Oh," he said, quietly. "Yeah, I guess you are then."

Chuckling, Hermione speared her asparagus and took a bite. "Is there any particular reason you thought otherwise?"

"No, no," he backpedaled. "Just confused with another girl."

Hermione lifted a brow, laying it on a bit thick. "Is there another muggleborn that goes by the last name Granger in our year?"

"No," he answered through clenched teeth. "It was a mistake."

Shrugging her shoulder, Hermione took another bite. "Good game, by the way," she smirked.

Evans blushed. "Thanks."

"What was going on with your broom, anyhow?" Hermione asked.

His eyes darkened. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I really do," said Hermione, smiling.

"Your head of house cursed it!" He seethed.

Blinking, Hermione set her fork down, staring Evans in the eye. "You shouldn't accuse a professor, Evans, especially if you're not for certain. If you are, you should report him to the headmaster."

She knew it was the right thing to say as Evans' eyes widened in shock. "Are you actually telling me to rat out—"

"Well, yes," Hermione said, feigning confusion. "You could've died out there, you know."

Evans scratched the back of his head. "Thanks, I guess?"

Snorting, Hermione said, "I would say that to anyone, not just you, Evans."

"Right," he said weakly. "I heard you were finished with Mcgonagall's essay that's due after the break." his blush deepened. "Mind helping out a fellow first year?"

Taken aback, Hermione slowly nodded. "Sure, Evans—"

"James," he corrected her. "My name is James."

Grinning, she stuck out her hand for him to shake. "Hermione."

. . . .

Sitting on the floor in her dorm room, enjoying the silence for once, Hermione laid the journal on the ground in front of her. It was time to face Tom.

Once she flipped the cover open, Hermione pressed her palm on the first page and instantly felt her stomach drop as she was magically pulled into the pages.

"Well, isn't this a surprise, dove." Tom greeted with a smirk. "I'm guessing you brought me some good news or you wouldn't be here right now."

Snorting, Hermione took a seat next to him. They were, once again, in the dark room, but it seemed lighter somehow, even with the torches flaming bright.

"I do," Hermioe said, smiling. "Well, more like progress, I guess."

"And, what is that, love?" Tom asked, his voice deep and smooth.

Rolling her eyes at the pet name, Hermione ignored that bit and replied, "I found out a way to get past the three headed dog. I plan on finding out exactly what Dumbledore is hiding." She beamed. "And I was able to befriend Evans."

Tom clapped slowly. "Excellent. You'll bring the journal along with you, yes?"

"Of course." She furrowed her brow. "I think professor Quirrelll is up to something."

"Why is that?"

"Well," Hermione began. "My voice had said Voldemort a few weeks ago when I was walking out of his classroom. Do you think that means anything?"

Tom narrowed his eyes. "I'm not for sure, but I need you to keep an eye out for him. He might just be a follower."

That was just it. Hermione knew if that were the case, her voice would have said 'follower' instead of 'Voldemort'. She guessed it wasn't a big deal if Tom wasn't concerned about it.

"Anyway," Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I'm quite ahead in my lessons, Tom. I was promised lessons from you."

He chuckled. "That is true. We'll start once summer break commences."

Sighing, Hermione stood. "I have to head back."

"But you just got here," Tom protested. He cleared his throat. "Must you leave now?"

"Unfortunately," Hermione muttered darkly. "Snape has been keeping a close eye on me since the incident concerning my roommates. I still haven't lifted the curse on the other three."

Tom threw his head back, laughing. "You are magnificent," he said between laughter. "It's been, what? Two months?"

"They're lucky I'm willing to do it," Hermione said, smiling at him.

"I'm surprised Dumbledore hasn't caught any heat for it," Tom sneered.

"Because Snape has blamed it on a potions mishap." Hermione said, sighing heavily. "Obviously the parents fell for his rubbage, the clever tosser."

He sighed, shaking his head, his smile handsome as ever. "Soon, you won't have to worry about Severus Snape, dove."

"I'll hold you to that, Tom." Hermione said. "Take me back?"

"Come visit soon."

Blinking, Hermione slowly closed the journal and stood, walking to her bed in a daze. That was the first conversation they had had, face to face, that wasn't, for once, hostile.

It was quite pleasant.

. . . .

They were back from the winter holiday and Hermione was missing the silence since their arrival.

Weasley's gotten himself bitten by a dragon!" Draco exclaimed, excitement in his eyes. "He's in the hospital wing right now."

"How do you know that?" Theo asked, perplexed.

"Followed him down to that big oaf's hut." Harry announced proudly. "He has a dragon."

Hermione rolled her eyes, packing her school books in her bag. "I refuse to hear your mindless blabbering. Not if it has to do with your obsession with Evans." She narrowed her eyes at them. "Leave the boy alone. He is mine."

. . . .

"Hermione," Parkinson said cautiously.

Looking up from her book, she smiled. "Yes, Pans?"

"Daphne," she began to fidget. "Can you bring her back?"

Smirking, Hermione closed her book. "What will you do for me?"

"Anything."

Hermione feigned hurt. "Is my friendship not enough for you?"

Pansy's eyes widened in horror as she began to shake her head vehemently. "No! Of course not! You're friendship is— that's not the reason at all— it's just—"

Hermione laughed. "Calm down. I'm only jesting."

Staring at the pureblood chit, Hermione observed her with narrowed eyes. She knew she'd have to reverse the spell on Greengrass and the other two buffoons soon, but she really couldn't be bothered if they stayed in the state they were currently in.

"Oh, alright," Hermione said, waving a hand at her dismissively as she reopened her book. "I'll go tonight."

"Thank you, My Lady." Pansy whispered.

"I'll collect my debt from you soon enough, Parkinson," Hermione said nonchalantly. "Don't thank me so soon, yeah?"

. . . .

"You have detention," Hermione said, her voice void of emotion.

Draco Sighed heavily and began to sulk. "It was Evans—"

"Draco," Hermione moaned, slapping his arm. "I told you to leave that boy alone! We have more important matters to attend to and I am close—"

"It was Hadrian's idea!" Draco protested, cutting Hermione off mid sentence.

Harry had the decency to look ashamed.

"No," Hermione stood, shaking her head. "You two are out of the plan."

"But—"

"No!" Hermione hissed. "I'll be going to the third floor corridor with Theo, alone. And if you continue to bother him— let's just make it known that you both won't appreciate what I'll do to you!"

She stomped away but was near enough to hear Theo chuckle, calling Harry and Draco stupid wankers.

. . . .

Greengrass had joined the five first years and Hermione laughed when Theo groaned. He would understand soon enough.

. . . .

"It was awful," Hermione could hear Draco say, fear lacing his voice. "We had to go into the forbidden forest with the gameskeeper."

"There was a man," Harry whispered, his voice just as unease as Draco's was. "Or some sort of creature drinking Unicorn blood."

"But—" Theo shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. Unicorn blood is only used to keep someone from dying— no, not really, but nothing good comes from drinking unicorn blood."

"I don't give a bloody hell what it's used for," Harry said, wincing. "I'm never going back into that forest again."

There was silence after his declaration.

"Don't tell Mi," Harry muttered. "I don't want her to think we're idiots."

Theo snorted. "Too late for that, brother."

"Tell us what you find?" Draco asked hopefully.

"I'll leave that up to Hermione." Theo answered with a chuckle.

"That's a definite no." Harry mumbled under her breath.

Smiling, Hermione crept up the stairs leading to her dorm room. Theo was right; she did think Harry and Draco were idiots— but they were her idiots.

Still didn't change the fact that they would not be accompanying her and Theo.

Walking into her dorm room, she did think it odd that they had witnessed a man feeding on unicorn blood. She wondered what that was about.

Voldemort.

"Oh," Hermione said, then blinked as the pieces began to piece together. "Oh."

. . . .

Hermione flew through her exams for her classes and wasn't worried at all about her results. She knew all the studying she had done had helped out a lot.

"Tonight?" Theo whispered.

Giving a slight nod, Hermione whispered back, "after supper. Draco and Hadrian covering you?"

"Yes," was his simple reply.

. . . .

Leading a nervous Theo through the corridors well after midnight, Hermione made sure to keep to the walls, assuring the pictures hadn't spotted them— yet.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Theo muttered under this breath.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Stop complaining. We're almost there."

Of course she knew it was quite reckless to bring Theo along, but she'd spent a whole school year with the fool, he'd warranted enough of her trust.

"Alohomora," Hermone whispered. It was the same door she and Draco had gone through and it clicked open.

Stepping in cautiously, Hermione whispered under her breath, "stay calm, Theo—"

"Holy shite," he breathed, his eyes widened as he looked upon the three-headed beast.

Furrowing her brow, she shook her head. The beast was sleeping. Glancing around, she noticed the harp by the dog's feet. As the melody stopped, the three headed dog began to wake, pushing Hermione to pull out her wand, aiming it towards the instrument— a soft melody began to play again.

"Someone's already been here," Theo said, his face pale.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione whispered, "obviously. But who?"

Without waiting for a response, Hermione tiptoed towards the trap door. She looked up and sighed, waving Theo over. He made his way towards her, both leaning over the trap door.

"We have to go down there?" Theo squeaked out.

"Theodore, if you don't stop your whining this instant, I'm going to feed you to the blasted dogs." Hermione snapped. "Are you with me or not?"

"Yes," he rasped, and at her quelling look, Theo cleared his throat and spoke more firmly. "Yes."

"Then come on." Without another word, Hermione closed her eyes and deeply inhaled as she jumped into the dark abyss.

She held in her scream as she fell, landing with a hard thud onto the ground. Groaning, she rubbed her back, rolling out of the way as Theo fell down beside her.

Looking up, Hermione pursed her lip. "Is it odd that there are scorch marks streaking the walls?"

"Shite," he groaned, laying back. "That really hurt." He then peered at Hermione. "No, we obviously knew someone had come before us. I don't even want to know what they've burnt up."

"Maybe it would have softened the blow of our fall." Hermione slowly stood, standing above Theo, her hand out for him to take. "I'm surprised we didn't break anything." She then helped him up and muttered, "That was unpleasant, wasn't it?"

Theo snorted. "More than unpleasant." He paused. "Can you hear that?" They began to make their way down the passageway. "It's fluttering wings, right? Like a bird?"

Hermione gave him an odd look as she tried to make out the sound as well. "Or like flies?"

They walked through the door and Hermione began to glance around, noticing the door on the other side that was opened.

"Look!" Theo pointed up.

There were small jeweled birds fluttering about and Hermione furrowed her brows. She almost wished she had come sooner only so she could know what they were for.

"Come on," Hermione told him.

Walking through the second door, Hermione peered around her and gasped as she looked straight ahead— the gigantic chess board was in shambles.

Stepping onto the chessboard, Hermione tilted her head, staring at the shattered chess piece that was oddly shaped as a spear tip. She quickly bent over, picking up.

"Oh, well, goody," Theo said, relieved. "Looks like whoever was here before has beaten the chess game."

"Agreed," Hermione said, pocketing the piece— didn't know why, but she wanted to save it for one reason or another. "Let's go."

"Wait," Theo said, holding Hermione back as he nodded his head towards a prone body on the other side of the chessboard.

Squinting her eyes, she asked, perplexed, "is that—"

"Weasley?" Theo answered, flabbergasted as well. "What in the world—"

"Who cares," Hermione told him. "Now we know who came through, yeah? Lets go."

"Leave him here?" Theo asked, amused.

"Unless you want to carry him, be my guest," Hermione shrugged. "I don't like the wanker."

Theo snorted. "I'm fine, thanks."

As they stepped through the next door, Hermione gagged.

"Eugh—" He gasped.

There was a troll in the corner that was apparently unconscious.

"You think this is the same troll that escaped?" Pondered Theo aloud.

Hermione held her breath, shaking her head as they crossed the room and through the next door. Deeply inhaling, she shuddered.

"That," she breathed, "was foul."

"Yeah," Theo agreed. "Could you imagine fighting that thing?"

"Thank Merlin we don't have to." Hermione replied.

"Potion bottles," Theo stated, staring at the table with seven different sized bottles sitting atop, unorganized, clearly the task had been completed.

"Nothing," Hermione said, pointing towards the door on the other side of the room. "Let's just go."

"Patil." Theo said, snickering.

Hermione turned to him. "What—" She glanced to where he was pointing at and Hermione also snickered. "Idiot."

"What could they be possibly doing down here?" Theo wondered.

"Who cares?" Hermione said. "They're Gryffindor's."

Lifting an eyebrow, Theo asked, "and what does that make us?"

"Shut up, Theo," Hermione muttered.

As they stepped through the threshold, Hermione sighed in relief that nothing terrifying had happened.

Walking further into the room, Hermione gasped as she pulled Theo back. Standing in the middle of the room was Evans and Professor Quirrell arguing about a stone. Was that what was hidden in the room? A bloody stone? It must've been quite a stone.

Sighing heavily, she turned to Theo and whispered, "I need you to stay here, do you hear me?"

He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. "I've come this far, haven't I? Let me go the rest of the way with you."

"No, Theo," Hermione said urgently. "I need you here just in case something happens to me."

"But—"

"Promise me." Hermione declared, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder. "Promise me you'll stay here."

Sighing defeatedly, Theo nodded his head. "Once this is over, you will tell me everything, yes? No more secrets."

Pursing her lips, Hermione thought about his request. She couldn't involve him— it was too risky. Not only for her future plans but what Tom would do if he were to find out.

"Forget it, I'm going—"

"Alright, you snake," Hermione hissed. "Stay here, alright?"

Theo smirked, lifting his hands up in surrender. "I'll stay."

Nodding, Hermione stood and quietly turned around as she slowly walked down the small steps.

"Hermione!" Evans shouted.

Professor Quirrell lunged, grabbing Evans by the hair, pressing his wand against his neck.

"Stay back," he hissed. "Or I'll kill the boy."

Hermione looked at Evans and furrowed her brows. She slowly lifted her hands. "I just want to know what's going on, that's all."

"He's Voldemort!" Evans struggled, wincing as Quirrell tugged his hair— hard. "He wants the sorcerer's stone!"

"Reveal me, servant," a voice hissed.

Voldemort.

"But, master, you are weak." Quirrell stated firmly. "I cannot—"

"Reveal me now."

Hermione's eyes widened as he let go of Evans, unwrapping the turban wrapped around his head. The gryffindor boy ducked, rushing towards Hermione, his wand out and pointed at Quirrell. The professor turned around, revealing the face that was placed on the back of his head.

Voldemort.

"Seriously?" Hermione muttered. "How gross."

"Not now, Hermione," Evans whispered fiercely.

Sighing, she pulled out her wand, also, playing the part, aiming it at Quirrell.

"Where's this stone you're talking about, E— James?" Hermione asked under her breath.

"In my pocket." He whispered back.

Nodding, Hermione swiftly elbowed Evans, striking him right in his face. The boy dropped his wand, groaning in pain as he clutched his nose.

"What the hell, Hermione!" Evans cried out through his hand. "What're you—"

"Sorry, Evans," Hermione said nonchalantly, pocketing the boy's wand.

She then pushed him down, taking the stone out of his pocket. She stared at it, mesmerized by the color. It was blood-red, semitranslucent.

"Girl," the voice attached to the back of the professor's head croaked. "Give me the stone."

Aiming her wand at Evans, Hermione whispered, "stupefy."

Evans laid limp, his nose still gushing out blood.

Pocketing the stone, she quickly took Evans' wand out and tossed it near his body, Hermione faced the man. "Who are you," she said, twirling her own wand.

"You dare—"

"You see, if you're Voldemort, you should know who I am."

The face was quite horrid. If Tom could see what he had become— she snorted. Hermione knew the juvenile would be more than displeased.

"Give me the stone, you—"

"Does Hermione Tremblay sound familiar…" she smirked. "My Lord?"

"Tremblayyy…" the man rasped. "My Hermione."

Grimacing, Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so. Why do you want the stone so bad, anyway?"

She hated not knowing anything about the stone. It made Hermione feel vulnerable. Incompetent— which she defiantly was not.

"It is the Elixir of Life," the face snarled impatiently. "I'll be able to create a body of my own. You see, I am a mere shadow only able to share another form if they let me into their soul, their heart— exactly what Quirrell has done, my loyal follower."

"I have your journal, you know," Hermione informed him. "What happens to Tom in the journal?"

"Ah," the face chuckled, amused. "Give it to me, along with the stone."

Biting on her bottom lip, Hermione furrowed her brow. What harm could he possibly do to the journal? It was his, after all, but she didn't want to give it away. It was hers now, just like the voice was hers.

It is your choice, my little Hermione.

"I keep the journal and you can have your stone." Hermione reasoned. "It's a win, win situation, yeah?"

"Fine." The face snarled. "Give me the stone.

Nodding, she took the stone out of her pocket and made her way towards the creepy face. Handing him the stone, Hermione asked, "and Evans? What do we do with him?"

"Kill him."

Hermione sputtered. "I can't kill him." She turned to the boy that was currently unconscious. She shook her head. "I'm not doing it. You do it."

Stepping back, she didn't dare turn her back lest he striked without her knowledge. She knew Tom. She conversed with Tom— but the real him, he was quite terrifying. She hadn't a clue what this Voldemort was capable of and that was dangerous enough for Hermione to get out of there.

"Well," Hermione said as she kept backing away. "I'll see you later, I guess."

"I'll be seeing you sooner than you think, Tremblay." The face hissed. "Soon."

Shoving the book into her cloak pocket, Hermione stalked off, wincing as she glanced down at Evans. She didn't want to leave him, but she had no choice. He was a threat to Tom and if he was a threat to him, it meant he was a threat to her as well.

Slowly, Hermione dropped to her knees.

"What're you doing?" The face hissed.

"Just saying my goodbyes." Hermione replied. "We were sort of friends, after all."

She then leaned over, kissing his forehead as she whispered a soft rennervate and slipped his wand into his hand. She cupped his cheek, her hand caressing his forehead as she performed a light memory charm, erasing any knowledge out of his mind of her being there.

As she stood, she whispered into his ear. "Be quick. Be steady. Kill him."

Smiling at Voldemort, she bowed her head. "My Lord."

Keep going.

There's nothing, my little Hermione.

You've made your decision.

"And Hermione, dear," the voice called out, his voice ragged. "Tell your friend hiding behind the pillar to keep his trap shut, yes? It would be quite despairing if anything… deadly… were to befall him."

How dare he threaten her friend. Glancing over her shoulder, Hermione gave a stiff nod and murmured through clenched teeth, "Of course… Voldemort."

Quickly, Hermione bounded up the few steps, reaching Theo. She looked away, unable to make eye contact as she grabbed his arm, leading him away from the man and leaving Evans behind.

She would just have to trust the Gryffindor boy to look after his own— he was quite evasive when it came to death situations— he could handle it.

There was a lot Theo had just witnessed and Hermione was debating if she should erase his mind or tell him what was going on— she was still undecided.

No matter; she'd have to choose one option or the other before they reached the common room. Not only did she have to worry about Theo which also involved Harry and Draco, she had to let Tom know what was going on.

There was something off about Voldemort and Hermione didn't like it at all. He seemed insane. More so than Tom.

Reaching into her pocket, she squeezed the stone, hoping Voldemort hadn't realized he carried a broken piece from the chess board in one of the many rooms they had passed— a simple replicating spell had obviously fooled him so far and she hoped Evans killed him before he noticed anything amiss.

Picking up her pace, Hermione dragged Theo behind her, thankful he wasn't asking worthless questions— it wasn't the time. They weren't safe. Not yet, anyhow.

Turning back and taking in his worried features, Hermione faced forward once again.

No. She'd tell her friends what was going on.