A/N: Another chapter down and plenty more to post. LOL.

From here on out, it's only going to get darker, so if you can't stomach our lovely protagonist being her dark, sinister self, you might as well stop now.

Thank you all for the lovely reviews/follows/favorites! I honestly didn't think this would get any love… like… at all. Lol.

Also, this chapter is a bit forward but it had to be done for the following chapters & it'll continue to move along swiftly.

There's a lot of grammar mistakes, so please don't judge me too harshly— I'll get to them when I can. ;)

Once again, all characters belong to JK Rowling. (:

It's Just Business

. . . .

Once she had departed with Theo, assuring him over and over that she would explain everything when she could, Hermione sat in her bed, mesmerized with the blood red stone.

It was astonishing how such a small rock could produce the Elixir of Life. She would admit she hadn't read any concept on the matter but Hermione knew it was quite a treasure to have.

Refusing to put the stone down, even for a moment, Hermione closed her hand around it as she pulled out the journal with her other.

Nagini slithered into her bed, startling Hermione. "Snake," she narrowed her eyes. "And where've you been all year? I've barely seen you." The serpent coiled herself around her arm, causing Hermione to smile. "I've missed you, you know. Could've helped me out with my roommates."

"Looking." Nagini hissed. "Followers."

Grimacing, Hermione nodded. "Well, I need to visit your master."

Snuggling her flat head in the crook of her neck, Hermione snorted as the snake closed its eyes.

Breathing heavily, Hermione pressed her palm against the journal, accustomed to the feeling that came along with being transported to— she still had not a clue how that worked, actually, and she needed to remember to bring that up with Tom.

Was she allowed to bring things to him? Or was it just herself? Was her body still lying in her bed and her mind was taken away or was she physically gone? So many questions she wanted to ask— but it wasn't the right time. She had more pressing matters to attend to.

Blinking, Hermione smiled, watching, as Tom flipped through a weighty tome. He seemed relaxed for once. The crease that was normally between his brows was smoothed out and his eyes soft.

"Hello, Tom."

"Dove," he greeted as he barely licked his pointer finger to turn the page. "I'm surprised you're here." He looked up, lifting an eyebrow. "I hope you come bearing good news."

Clearing her throat, Hermione hesitated, then sighed as she slowly took her seat on the other side of the table he was occupying.

Looking around, she noticed they were in a library— no, they were sitting in the library; the Hogwarts library, the library she spent at least more than five hours in a day— her sanctuary.

"I've met the former you," she told him softly. She then faced Tom, shaking her head. "You're not you."

He paused his mindless flipping as he sharply looked up, examining her, his eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Oh, goody. It was to be one of those conversations. She hoped it wasn't. She really wasn't in the mood.

Tell him.

Tell him now, my little Hermione.

Sighing heavily, Hermione nodded. "You're a mere shadow, a— a parasite living off another body because you don't have one of your own, living off your follower who had opened his heart, his soul, to you." She shook her head. "Tom, you've lost your sanity."

He blinked, the only movement he made as he sat there staring at her, but she knew his mind, his thoughts, were far away.

"Tom?" Hermione whispered, unsure how she should react to his… reaction. "I—" she began to mumble. "I have something for you."

His eyes narrowed in on her, flashing red. He took a sharp breath, running his fingers through his tidied, neat, not a strand out of place, hair that was parted to the side, causing it to look wild and disheveled, a better look on him. "What is it, dove."

"The sorcerer's stone," she told him, her voice still soft. "I— well, your former self wanted it— I just thought you'd want to use it? I'm not sure how you could," she sighed. "Voldemort, the— well, the other you, said he could make himself a body using it—"

"You got the stone?" Tom whispered in awe. "With you?"

"Well, yes," Hermione informed him. "I just thought— you're sane, Tom, and maybe you, the soul in the diary, could use it? I'm not sure how that would work—"

"You have the sorcerer's stone…" Tom stated, putting an end to her rambling.

Softly biting on her bottom lip, Hermione looked away. "Yes, I sort of snuck it from— you have to understand, you, the original— Tom, I can't—"

Quickly, before Hermione could make sense of what was happening, Tom had lifted her from the chair, hugging her tightly to his body.

Stunned, she didn't dare move, unable to comprehend the situation. It was the first he had touched her without intending to harm her. It was… awkward.

"That—" Tom chuckled, pulling away, his arms still wrapped around her as he looked down, revealing a smile— a smile Hermione never had seen him do. He was either smirking, scowling or sneering. "That is absolutely brilliant, dove.

"You can bring me back," he whispered to her, tucking a loose curl behind her ear, his smile still in place. "With the stone and my diary—" he quickly pulled away and began to pace. "What do you know about the stone, dove?"

Hermione deflated, slowly sagging into her chair. "Absolutely nothing. I've been studying other—"

"It was created by Nicholas Flamel." He paused, staring at her as the corner of his lip twitched into a smirk. "A stone that could create the Elixir of Life, turn any metal into gold, create a body of my own."

Slowly nodding, she stopped to shake her head. "I still don't understand," she told him. "How can you make—" she waved her hand around, "—all of that with the stone?"

"It's complicated alchemy," he began to murmur. "but I know enough to brew the potion and begin the ritual."

Hermione fidgeted in her seat. "Can you explain to me what a horcrux is now, Tom?"

Pausing in his mindless pacing, he slowly turned to her, tapping his chin with his pointer finger. "I've split my soul into seven pieces; the ring I have hidden away, my mother's locket that is securely safe which once belong to Slytherin, himself, the journal— you have in your possession, Helga Hufflepuff's cup, Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, Nagini and you. The magic you use to perform, it is beyond—"

"Tom," Hermione breathed, horrified. "You— are you mental?!" She stood, shaking her head. "No wonder the former you lost his mind to insanity! You've Split your soul seven times!"

"Watch it, dove," Tom warned. "It's a good day, you don't want to be writhing in pain, do you?"

Hermione snorted, shaking her head. "You've split your soul, Tom— is there any way for you to mend it back together?"

He laughed, a low sinister laugh. "Why on earth would I do that? I can live forever now that I have the stone. I'm invincible now, thanks to you."

"Tom," she pleaded again, "I'm begging you, to at least try to mend your soul, please. Once is terrible enough, but seven times, Tom."

To split one's soul— even in the muggle world Hermione knew tampering with your soul was abominable. She felt like a hypocrite, trying to save another while hers was damned, but she would like to think she had a limit— well, mostly.

She couldn't explain why she wanted him to mend it back, she knew someone would catch on to his stupid plan and destroy every single one, but unpleasant shivers coursed down her spine from his revelation and she refused to work alongside a mad man. If there were any way for him to try and piece his fractured soul—

No. She couldn't work with him. Not when it was clear he had lost his mind to Immortality. Maybe she would tip off Dumbledore so he could destroy the fool and she wouldn't have to worry about him any more.

Yeah, right. She wouldn't betray Tom. Even if she wanted to, knowing she could, she wouldn't. So many times Hermione had thought of turning against him, so many times she thought it was a grand idea— she couldn't, no, she wouldn't. He was, somehow, a part of her and she wasn't speaking of the horcrux she carried inside of her either.

"Dove," Tom said quietly, a hint of humor in his tone. "You know I can't."

"And if someone figures out what you've done?" She demanded of him. "They will kill you!"

"Don't bother yourself with my affairs—"

Snorting, Hermione began her own pacing, pinching the bridge of her nose. "If you refuse to do it, I'm not—"

"Tread carefully, dear," Tom said, his voice eerily soft.

She stared at him, shaking her head, her arms spread out. "Please, Tom. I will do anything for you. I'm literally begging you to do this— for me. I found the stone for you. I've been willing to kill for you. You can't do this one thing for me?"

His eyes narrowed, Tom began to nod his head, leisurely. "Fine. Once you bring me back, we will find a way to mend my soul."

"Swear it, Tom," Hermione stated firmly, desperately. "Swear you'll do it."

He sneered. "Why are you so determined to have me mend my soul together, little dove?"

"You seek immortality, yes?" Hermione asked. "I can help you without you harming yourself." She shook her head. "You didn't see what I witnessed, Tom. You are a monster. You do not look how you do now. You were—"

He nodded slowly, clearly understanding. "Alright, dove. I'll do it for you." He closed the distance between them and Hermione took a step back. "But if I do this, you will give yourself to me."

Furrowing her brows, Hermione asked, "what do you mean?"

He gave her a nasty smirk. "You want to try and save me, yes? Be the girl who was able to save Tom Riddle—"

Hermione scoffed, pushing him away from her. "Forget it. If you want to be damned, be my guest."

He chuckled. "Why, Hermione, you wound me."

"Send me back."

"But we're not done—"

"You want me to keep the stone safe?" She growled. "Send me back."

He narrowed his eyes, his lips pursed into a thin line. "Fine," he bit out. "I'll entertain your little idea but we're not done here."

"Yes," Hermione snapped. "We are!"

"Dove, Hermione," Tom said, his voice… off. "I'm—" he ran his fingers through his hair— again, breathing heavily. "I. Am. So—sorryyy."

Snorting, Hermione shook her head. She then began to laugh. "You're joking, yeah? Is it literally that hard for you to even apologize?"

"I'm surely not accustomed to it, yes," he said, sighing. "Look," he placated. "I will find a way to mend my soul together— for you. You'll keep the stone safe and help me with the potion and the ritual, yes? And you will help me find immortality, although I've tried, I'll give you a chance to research."

"No funny business?" Asked Hermione as she crossed her arms against her chest. "You're not… tricking me… are you?"

"Would I honestly do such— fine, no." He scowled, at her lifted brow. "No trickery."

"Okay." Hermione agreed. "I'll keep the stone safe for you and we'll find a way to mend your soul together and I'll research a better option for you to achieve immortality." She pursed her lips, "if you're lying to me, Tom—"

"I'm not," he gritted out.

Throwing her hands up in the air, Hermione groaned. "Oh, alright," she said with a sigh. "Prepare your concoction and I'll—"

"James Evans," he cut in. "Any news on the prat.

Shaking her head, Hermione sank into the chair. "No, but—"

She suddenly stopped. Hermione didn't think he would appreciate how she told Evans to kill the parasite. After all, they were one.

"But?"

"But I'm still working with him." Hermione finished, shrugging her shoulder.

"Work faster."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione nodded. "I'll get it done."

. . . .

Squealing in delight, Hermione squeezed Harry's arm as he escorted her to the Great Hall. Green and silver decorations glittered the Hall with Slytherin banners hanging on the walls with a huge one behind the head's table.

"It's brilliant!" Hermione beamed, as she was led to her table.

She'd done that! She had earned over a little of 250 points for Slytherin and Hermione was basking in the glory of it all.

"We're the best house," Draco smirked. "Of course, it's brilliant."

"This year definitely makes it seven wins in a row for Slytherin," Theo added, unable to hide his excitement. "Thanks to our resident swot—"

"And our quidditch players," Draco put in.

"—we were definitely undefeated this year." Theo smirked. "They didn't stand a chance."

"With Mi on our side?" Harry snorted. "Very unlikely."

"Another year completed!" Dumledore greeted, silencing the chatter amongst the students. "I'm very aware, as you are, that the house cup needs to be awarded.

"In fourth place, Hufflepuff." Hermione snorted. "In third place, Gryffindor. In second, Ravenclaw and in first place, Slytherin leading with 472 points."

Her house-mates began to cheer loudly with hoots and hollers, causing Hermione to laugh in delight, joining them as she began to bang her goblet against the wooden table.

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said, grimacing. "Congrats Slytherin, but there are a few points I'd like to give out."

Hermione paused, her eyes widened in shock. Was that even allowed?

"Ronald Weasley for playing a good game of chess— 50 points." Dumbledore announced loudly to the excited chatter from the Gryffindor table.

"What's happening!" Harry hissed, looking on with horror.

"Parvati Patil for using logic." Dumbledore continued. "50 points."

Anger began to swell within Hermione and she glanced at the Gryffindor table as they began to cheer boisterously.

"60 points awarded to James Evans for bravery."

"We're— we're tied with Gryffindor," Draco breathed, his face pale.

"And 10 points to Neville Longbottom for standing up to his friends."

"Not anymore," Theo muttered under his breath.

Watching in horror, Dumbledore changed the decorations in the Great Hall— gold and red replacing silver and green.

. . . .

"Hermione, wait!"

Sighing, she stopped her trek to the Hogwarts Express, telling Harry and Draco to go on ahead, she'd catch up, the former throwing a glare at Evans.

Rearranging her features into a smile, she quickly turned. "James! Congrats on winning the House Cup."

"I'm— what?" He said, scratching the back of his head. "You're serious?"

Hermione lifted a brow. "We're friends, right?"

Slowly, Evans nodded his head. "I just wanted—" he sighed, "write to me this summer?"

Blinking, Hermione said, "of course."

He then took a step closer to her. "I know you were there that night. I don't know for sure, but I remember you whispering— 'Be quick. Be steady. Kill him.'"

"James—"

"And I know you have the stone."

Eyes widening in shock, Hermione didn't dare reach for it, assuring it was still with her. "James, what're you talking about?"

He gave her a small smile. "I killed Quirrell," he told her. "But I don't think Voldemort is gone."

Shaking her head, she asked, "why are you telling me this?"

His brows furrowed as he stared at her. "I thought you wanted to know since you want him gone as well? I haven't told anyone— not even headmaster Dumbledore, but maybe we can work together?"

"You—" Hermione took a deep breath, calming her racing heart. She'd done it. "You want to work together?"

"Yeah," he smiled and Hermione was taken back at how similar he looked to Harry. "I mean, we're friends? Maybe we can—"

"Oi! James!"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione smirked at Weasley standing a couple feet behind James, wiggling her fingers at him.

"Of course, it will just be between you and I," Evans said.

Turning back to Evans, Hermione gave him her best megawatt smile. "I completely understand."

. . . .

"Hermione,"

Smiling at Parkinson, Hermione said, "yes, Pans?"

"Is it alright if I sit with the girls?"

"Of course," Hermione said. She then lifted a brow. "I'll see you next year?"

Parkinson's smile turned into a grimace, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. "Yes, see you next school year."

"Have a good holiday, Parkinson."

Parkinson flinched at the use of her last name and fled the compartment.

. . . .

"Are you seriously friends with that tosser?" Draco hissed as he slammed the compartment door. "Really, Mi, I didn't think you were so stupid!"

Chuckling, Hermione flipped the page of her book, not at all upset at his slight against her intelligence. "Sit down, Dray, and stop your whingeing."

"You can't be— Miiiii," Draco whined. "Please tell me you're not thinking of bringing him in like what you did with Pansy and Daphne."

"What?" Hermione tilted her head back and laughed. "You're funny. Of course, not."

"Then why—"

"If you could be a little patient and wait for Theo and Hades to come, we'll talk about it."

"Oh, alright." He said reluctantly. "Where are they anyway?"

"You were with them last, how am I supposed to know?" Hermione shot back.

He sagged in his seat, his arms folded against his chest as he began mumbling under his breath like a petulant child.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione sighed in relief when Harry and Theo stumbled in and the train began to move.

She still couldn't believe she had to go back and live at the orphanage after staying at Hogwarts. It was unfair. Dealing with those stupid girls— Hermione wasn't looking forward to it at all.

"So," Harry said, lifting his feet and landing them near Draco on the opposite bench. "What happened that night?"

Theo sighed, rubbing his temples. He then looked to Hermione, lifting a brow. "Should I tell them?"

Hermione closed her book and gave Theo a curt nod, who then went into explaining their late night stroll to the third floor corridor.

He told them in great detail of what had occurred that night; falling through the trapped door to Hermione facing Evans and Professor Quirrell who turned out to be sharing his body with Voldemort.

Theo made sure he left nothing out.

It also explained why the points were awarded.

"Mi," Draco said, hesitantly. "Is that why you're befriending Evans?"

"Yes," Hermione affirmed. "So I would greatly appreciate it if you and Hadrian," she glared at the black haired boy, who looked away sheepishly, "would back off."

"Hermione," Theo spoke up, his voice low and solemn. "The beginning of the year, I said I didn't want to base our friendship on lies." He poked his tongue out, moistening his lips. "Maybe we should be honest with one another?"

Pursing her lips, Hermione nodded. She was contemplating on telling them the truth, anyhow. The whole truth, just to get everything off her chest. It was a lot for a twelve year old to deal with and, honestly, she was exhausted.

Would it be so bad to share the load with her friends and create an inner circle of her own? She decided to just rip the plaster off. No more talking in circles; no more beating around the bush— it was time to be completely honest.

"I'm working with Riddle for world domination." She told them, her voice void of emotion. "I want to change Wizarding society, I want to rule it. I even want to rule the muggle world and for me to do so, I need to work with him."

The compartment was silent. Glancing at Harry, his mouth was open, his eyes widened and when she moved her eyes over to the other two, they were both sporting the same look.

Sighing heavily, Hermione added, "I'm also seeking my revenge for my family that was murdered in cold blood. I don't know who the traitor is, but Tom does.

"I'm befriending Evans and need to find out who he is because he is a threat to Tom and if he's a threat to him, that means he's a threat to me.

"I know this is a lot to take in right now," Hermione said, pinching the bridge of her nose, "but I would really like to know your thoughts."

"That—" Theo rubbed his temples. "That's a lot to take in, Mi."

"You speak with Tom Riddle on a daily basis?" Harry asked, a flash of pain reflecting in his eyes.

"Yes," Hermione said honestly. "I have a way to speak with him."

"Can I? Speak… with him, I mean?"

Smiling softly at her friend, Hermione said, "I'll see if I can arrange something for you, Hades."

That was a big NO. There was no way Hermione was going to tell Tom any of this. He would kill them all for sure— He was a selfish creature who didn't like to share his things and for some odd reason, he believed she belonged to him. She snorted. Yeah, right.

Draco still hadn't uttered a word. She lifted a brow at him. "Dray?"

"I— I don't know what to say," he frowned. "But I do know something about the Evans kid that could maybe help you."

Hermione leaned back. "I'm all ears."

"Well, I heard father saying that James Evans is a cousin to Harry Potter." Draco casted a weary glance towards Harry. "He's a mudblood. His mother is Harry Potter's mum's sister."

Eyes widening, Hermione was appalled by the news. She now had solid information to tell Tom. Brilliant— which meant she didn't need to befriend him anymore. She'd figure out a way to be rid of him, she wasn't all too worried about that.

Even though it didn't explain why Dumbledore was using him, Hermione was sure Tom would be fine if she got rid of the boy— besides, it was enough to know that the old headmaster was using Evans to obviously bring down Voldemort. Why else was he down on the third floor corridor and then rewarded points for it? Bastards.

But that also made James Evans Harry's cousin. How bizarre.

"Er—," Draco began, casting another look at Harry.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that," Harry snapped. "What do you know, Malfoy."

"Since Mi is being honest," Draco said slowly, "maybe I should be as well."

"That's the idea, wanker," Theo muttered. "Now spill."

"Father was speaking with Severus about the Potter boy," he began to squirm in his seat. "Which Thoros Nott had taken in."

Startled, Hermione quickly turned to Harry, gauging his reaction, but when he sat there, waiting for Draco to continue, she laughed. He knew! He knew this whole time. But… that would mean he knew Tom wasn't his real father. Then why did he want to speak with him?

"Is that it?" Theo asked, clearly confused.

"Wait, you knew already?" Draco shot back.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, we knew. We told you father keeps journals around, didn't we?"

"Then why do you want to speak with Tom?" Asked Hermione, bemused.

"I want to know why," Harry said, "he thought it was a good idea to kill my father, sell my mother and kidnap me and pass me off as his own."

Sighing, Hermione took out her wand, twirling the black smooth wood between her fingers. It was time to obliviate them. They knew too much and hearing him speak, the anger in his voice, she knew Harry wouldn't stop at nothing to bring down Tom Riddle.

"Mi," Theo questioned warily. "What're you doing?"

She shook her head. "I can't have you lot ruin my plans—"

"Wait!" Harry shot from his seat, inching for his wand.

"Hades," Hermione said. "Do you really want to try and go against me? You know I'm a lot more capable than most."

It was a cheap shot, she knew it was, but she would duel him if she had to.

"Mi," Draco pleaded. "Please. We can help you."

Chuckling, Hermione shook her head. "You can't help me, Malfoy. None of you can. You want to bring down Tom? You can't unless you want to bring me down as well and I won't stop until I am— done." She finished lamely.

There was no way she would tell them she was going to flip the Wizarding world upside down and seize her moment, her opportunity to make Wizarding society great again.

"Wait, what—" Harry chuckled nervously. "We're not going to stop you or him, Mi."

Furrowing her brows, Hermione said, "explain."

Harry nodded, his hands still out, placating her. "I'm not a Potter. I am Hadrian Marvolo Riddle. I accepted that a long time ago. Of course I was angry when I found out what was done to me." He sighed, running his fingers through his already messy hair. "Theo and I snuck out to Spinner's End to visit my mother a couple years back.

"One look and she refused me. She has started her life, you see. She didn't have time for past mistakes." He hung his head. "I just wanted to know what Tom's reasons were for taking me. Was I meant to accomplish something for him?

"Was it worth it to take me from a family that could've loved me unconditionally—"

"Hades," Theo shot up, grabbing him by his shoulder. "I love you. You are my brother in every way but blood." He then leaned in, whispering into his ear, Harry nodding along with him, but still looked defeated. "Together, right?"

"What did you say to him?" Hermione asked, her wand pointed at him.

"Hermione!" Draco snapped. "Stop treating us like we're not your friends! What is wrong with you!"

Lowering her wand, Hermione turned to Draco. "I cannot fail, Draco, and now that you know—"

"And we won't fail you!" Theo snapped, glaring at her. "Do you want to know that after Hogwarts, we're going to kill Thoros Nott? You want to know that we're going to kill Severus Snape and Lily Snape for what they've done to Hades and what my father has done to my mother?! Is that what you want to fucking hear, Hermione?!"

He chuckled, turning back to Harry as he sat him down. His attention back to her after settling Harry, he shook his head. "Was everything with you just a game? We were pawns on your stupid chessboard, weren't we?" He sat down next to Harry. "You know, it's funny, I wanted to trust you. I talked Hades into letting you in — "she can help us, Hades" "we can trust her, brother." — He scoffed. "Should've known you would've been a bust." He raised his arms out, "go ahead, then. Obliviate us."

Stunned, Hermione put down her hand, sheathing her wand. She couldn't look at them. The guilt was beginning to settle in and—

Standing up, Hermione kneeled in front of Harry. She grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "I'm sorry," she began. "I truly am and I know the pain you're going through, Hades, I've been through it. But I'm avenging my family and I can't take the risk that you'll do the same. I need Tom and if you ever have the urge to hex him—"

"Let me talk to him, Mi," Harry pleaded, his eyes shining with tears he refused to let fall. "That's all I want." He grabbed her hands with both of his. "Just give me this chance and I'm— I'm all yours."

Hermione let go of his hand, cupping his face. She didn't want to make any promises, but the urge to make it happen, for Harry, spurred her on. Unless—

"You don't need to speak with him, Hades." Hermione said softly. "He took you because there was a prophecy that stated either you die or he does and instead of killing you, he decided to have Thoros raise you because he couldn't." Pursing her lips, she added, "at least you had Theo growing up." She looked down. "I had no one."

Sighing heavily, she stood, smiling sadly at him. Furrowing her brows, she bent over to kiss his forehead. "I would do absolutely anything for you, Hades," she turned to Theo and Draco, "for all of you. You're my first friends and that bond can never be broken, but—"

"Tom is the deal breaker?" Theo said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes," she stated, staring at Theo. "You want someone to disappear? I'll do it for you. You want revenge on someone? I can make that happen. You want to kill someone but don't want to get your hands dirty?" She looked between all of them. "My wand is yours."

She sat down. "I'll burn the world down for you three and wouldn't bat an eye." She shook her head. "Don't you understand that?"

"Hermione," Theo began. "You—"

"I can and I will if that is what you wish." She cut him off. "Tom can't know about my friendship with the three of you— not yet." She turned to Harry. "I can't ask him if he'll speak with you because he'll know the truth that you know and if he comes after you because he will—" she stopped shaking her head. "I would even go against him for you, I would, but I'll stop you if you tried to." Sighing heavily, she continued, "The point is— The moment he finds out about how close our friendship is, he'll use you all against me and I cannot let that happen."

"Then why are you working with him?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowed.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione sighed. "It's complicated, okay? But I promise, I will tell you when it all makes sense to me."

"But," Draco spoke up again. "What can we do? We're only twelve years old? We're nothing compared to Dumbledore and everyone else."

Hermione smiled, "don't be quick to underestimate what we can do, Dray."

"I need to get rid of my father," Theo said. "He— he killed my mother and—" he choked on his words. "He's a sick sadist and I need to end him. Snape and Lily as well for Hades' sake."

Nodding, Hermione said, "I can—"

"No," Theo cut in. "I'll do it."

"But," Draco deflated. "Severus is my godfather—"

"That hurt one of us," Hermione told him, her voice fierce. "We're either in this together or not at all."

"But my family—" Draco began.

"Will still be your family, Dray," Hermione told him. "But it's us at the end of the day. Are you with us or not?"

He looked away, nodding his head sharply.

"I know how much you adore your godfather, Draco," Theo said quietly. "But I'll do anything for my brother, even if that means ridding members of your family." He looked away. "I'm sorry."

Draco pursed his lips, shoving Theo in the arm. "Hades means a lot to me too, you wanker, and— if he wants Severus gone, I'm in." He leaned forward, glancing at Harry. "I'm your brother too, yeah? In every way but blood?"

Harry snorted, "you know you are, you tosspot."

Draco chuckled, shaking his head. "Then I'm all the way in— with all of you."

"Okay." Hermione said, relieved. Looking around, she asked, "anything else?"

"How can you work with us behind Tom's back, he'll know." Theo said. "Your plan is ridiculous."

Hermione scoffed. "I've been doing fine this far, I'm sure I can manage, Theo."

"So you're not going to obliviate us?" Harry muttered.

Chuckling, she shook her head. "No, I'm not. I'm thinking we can work together— no more secrets."

"Agreed," Theo said, to which Harry and Draco nodded. "But you need to let him know about us, Hermione. Especially if you plan on working alongside him. Like you said, no more secrets."

She sighed, leaning back as she studied her friends. "I will. When the time is right."

. . . .

"Miss Granger," Mrs Daniels greeted. "It's wonderful to have you back."

Grimacing, Hermione pursed her lips— she lied. "It's good to be back."

. . . .

"Again."

"I— I can't do it, Tom," Hermione breathed heavily, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

He whipped out his wand, aiming it at her as he sent another excruciating jolt of pain, thrumming through her body. Dropping to the floor, Hermione hissed, her small frame convulsing from the aftershocks of the cruciatus curse.

It still amazed her that she agreed to such barbaric treatment.

"Again." Tom demanded. "Keep me out, dove, or I'll have to crucio you..." he smirked. "Again."

Slowly sitting up, Hermione panted as she snarled, "you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He lifted a brow. "Again."

Without further warning, Tom invaded her mind causing Hermione to flinch as she tried, and failed, to throw up her shields.

Tom sighed. "Crucio."

. . . .

"G—Granger."

Glancing up from her book while sitting in the garden, Hermione raised both brows. "Alice."

"How—how are you?"

Chuckling, Hermione snapped her book shut. "What do you want, Hilburt?"

The girl looked down and Hermione felt disgusted being in her presence. It had felt like years since she last spoke with the chit.

"I'm— I'm sorry f—for bullying you b—before." Alice stuttered.

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione asked, "why now?"

"I—" Hilburt began to sob. "I c—can't handle the way o—others are bullying m—me and it's awful and I— I did the same t—to you and I am s—so sorry, Hermione."

Lifting a brow, Hermione erupted into laughter, causing the girl to burst into a fresh set of sobs. She could tell Alice where she could shove her apology but then a thought had struck.

Smiling, Hermione patted the seat next to her. "Start over?"

Alice Hilburt sniffed as she nodded her head.

Pulling her over, Hermione began to soothe the chit, grimacing. "Tell me who I need to go after, my sweet Alice?"

Yes, she would make a great puppet for muggle London.

. . . .

… Hades isn't doing well, he's been moping around and— write him, Mi. He needs more than just me at the moment.

. . . .

"You have to mean it, dove, if you want to curse the right person." Tom instructed her. "Call upon your magic and let it flow through you as you say the spell."

"In frigore," Hermione whispered and jumped in excitement as the orange began to freeze from within, exploding with a loud pop!, frozen bits of fruit flying everywhere.

"Congratulations, dove," Tom said. "Now, the next spell…"

. . . .

… it was absolutely brilliant, Mi! I wish you were there.

Mother wants to meet you soon. She wants to invite you over for Yule break. Of course, Theo and Hadrian will be there… but maybe by then you'll be friends with Pansy or Daphne…

. . . .

"I've heard you haven't been very nice to my new… friend, beast."

The big girl shook her head, her eyes pleading with Alice who stood a couple feet behind Hermione. "Alice, please—"

"You see, Alice is mine and whoever messes with my things," Hermione smirked, giving a dainty shrug. "I anger fast."

"Please!"

"I don't think so." Turning to Hilburt, Hermione lifted a brow, the knife in her hand. "Want to do the honors?" She smirked. "Or I can feed her to my snake. The choice is yours."

Nagini hissed, slithering up the girl that was stuck to the wall, flicking its tongue at her face.

"I eeeeat." The serpent hissed.

Hermione tittered. "Down, Nagini."

Shakily pm, Alice took the knife, stepping up to the girl tied against the wall.

"So you've chosen to knife her." Hermione smirked, closing the distance between her and Alice's bully.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Hermione whispered, "feel hell."

. . . .

"Why do I have to practice brewing?" Hermione complained, sitting at the large working table that took up the back wall. "How can I fail if I follow directions, step by step?"

They were currently in a potions lab with vials and bottles, cauldrons of different shapes and sizes with mortars and pestles lying about.

Tom smacked the back of her head and Hermione winced, glaring at him. "To become a potioneer, you must be creative, dove. You simply don't follow directions, no. You use your knowledge to brew the perfect potion, to get the most out of all the ingredients, either they're fresh or shrivelled and old."

"Yes, but I don't want to be a potioneer." Hermione muttered, earning another slap to the back of her head.

"If you want to succeed, be the best, you must take all your options into consideration and knowledge of every available magic out there is important to know." Tom explained. "For example, if I told you to brew Draught of Living Death, what would you do with the sopophorous bean?"

Sighing under her breath, Hermione turned to the textbook. "I would cut them."

"Wrong," Tom whipped out his wand, sending a stinging hex towards her arm.

Hissing, Hermione rubbed the mark, biting into her bottom lip, scowling at her textbook as if it was the book's fault for telling her the wrong answer.

"What is key to brewing potions, dove?"

"Er— the ingredients?"

Sighing, he turned to her. "What, exactly, is acquired from the ingredients that are needed for brewing?"

"The substance?"

"Do you honestly believe cutting a sopophorous bean would give you more of its substance?" Tom quiried. "If the beams are old, that is?"

"No," Hermione said, sucking in her bottom lip. "No, I would have to try to squeeze out its juices—"

Tom snorted at her words.

"—so I would have to… squeeze them… into the cauldron ?"

Breathing heavily, Tom ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated. "Next question."

. . . .

… I mean, if you needed the stone, why didn't you just ask for it, maybe we can share it?

She was going to have to obliviate Evans as soon as she returned to Hogwarts. Hermione would've done so when he first mentioned the stone but there were too many witnesses rushing about the platform.

Anyway, how is your summer? Ron is confident that you're an evil person, but I don't think you are, Hermione. I think there is more to you than meets the eye…

Snorting, Hermione tore his letter up. He wasn't wrong there.

. . . .

"Alice," Hermione said one afternoon as they sat in the garden reading books and enjoying the warm weather.

"Yes, Hermione," Alice answered, finally looking up from her book.

Hermione smirked. "Keep an eye on the girls for me when I leave for school?"

Smiling softly, Alice nodded. "Of course."

Yes, Alice would do well.

. . . .

…and Severus came over sneering and scowling and going on and on about the first year Slytherin girls to father. It was tiring listening to his endless complaints. I don't know what he has to complain about, it wasn't like they stayed cursed.

Theo said hi, by the way. Can you believe the term starts in a couple weeks?! We miss you terribly, Mi…

. . . .

"Is this," Hermione lifted the worn out journal with a growl, "really necessary? I mean, I know about Slytherin's hatred for mudbloods." Doesn't mean I'm changing my mind, she wanted to add, but knew better than to reveal her feelings on the matter— not yet, it wasn't the right time.

He plopped down next to her, smirking. "Everything I teach you is out of necessity, dove."

Sighing, she placed the book down and looked around. They were currently in the Chamber of Secrets that did exist.

It was quite magnificent, located underneath the school. It had four giant pillars on either side of the walkway, serpents wrapped around them and disappearing into the ceiling that was dark and appeared as if it could go on forever; at the end of the walkway was a gigantic statue of Salazar Slytherin, himself, in all his glory and behind the pillars were rooms, four on each side, filled with books she wanted to sink her teeth into and absorb as much information as she could— but no. She was stuck reading about Salazar Slytherin and his ideologies. It was a load of crock, really.

Tom had only taught her a handful of illegal, and forgotten, spells but Hermione wanted to learn more. She wanted to learn it all. But he was pacing her— whatever that meant.

"How are you able to travel, anyway?" She asked, wincing as Tom flicked her hand from mindlessly flipping through the pages. Scowling, she added, "I mean, we've been to the library, we're here, a potions lab— how?"

Tom chuckled. "I'm only allowed to go to places that are written in my diary." The potions lab was Sluhorn's at his home. He gave me permission to use it whenever I wanted to." He smirked. "And of course, Hogwarts."

"You can't go anywhere else then?" Hermione asked, sitting up in her chair.

"No. Only the places I've written about." He turned to her and flashed one of his rare smiles. "But that will change soon enough."

It was silent between them as Hermione sighed, glaring at Slytherin's journal. The man was a bigot inbred who believed magic should stay within the magic— which meant they married one another. It was disgusting.

Glancing around the room they were currently in, Slytherin's personal study room, Hermione was still amazed how everything felt so real.

"Tom," Hermione began. "When I come and visit you, is all of this in my mind, or am I physically here?"

Lifting a brow, he asked, "what do you think, dove?"

"Er—" she tilted her head. "I think that I'm physically here but somehow I can't seem to bring anything with me when I come visit."

"Yes," Tom said. "You are here physically, it's a bit of complicated magic that allows me to show the reader, in this case, you, what I want to show. And since you have a piece of my soul, it's a bit easier to bring you back and forth without draining too much of my magic."

"But how?" Hermione demanded.

Tom sighed, waving a hand over the volumes placed in front of him, all of them gently closing simultaneously.

"My soul, Hermione," Tom began, "is reserved in these pages, which means my magic as well but that's all there is to it. I'm neither here nor there but I am.

"You cannot bring items into my journal because I haven't written about them. You can't leave with a textbook because it is a mere memory of what I've read and stored into it." He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I thought we've been through this already?"

Confused, Hermione shook her head. "No, we haven't, but I understand."

"Speaking of my journal," Tom said. "I need you to give it away for awhile."

"What?!" Hermione shrieked. "Why?! I've done everything you told me to do!"

He chuckled. "Unless you want me to drain your soul, your magic, your life, dove, you'll do what I've asked."

"But," she lowered her head. "How will we keep in contact if someone else has your journal?"

"You have such little faith, little dove," Tom chuckled. "It won't be for long, I promise."

Breathing heavily, Hermione sighed. "So, what? Give the journal to someone I don't like?"

"There's that," Tom said, smirking.

. . . .

… father said you're meeting up with us at Diagon? Merlin, it feels like I haven't seen you in ages.

He promised us ice cream and, don't worry, I told father it wasn't necessary. Theo and Hadrian have already shopped for their school supplies, which sucks, we won't be seeing them until we board the Hogwarts Express.

You don't think— no, we should wait and ask them when we see them, yeah?

Did you hear about…

. . . .

Sneaking into the other girl's room was an easy feat. As she pulled her covers away, she smiled as the girl woke with a freight and shivered when she saw Hermione hovering above her.

"I leave for school in a couple days," Hermione whispered. "I would hate for anything to happen to Alice while I'm gone."

"I— I wouldn't."

"Oh, I know you wouldn't." Bending down, Hermione picked up Nagini. "But you see, my snake gets awfully hungry and— well, it'd be better if I were to leave her behind, don't you think? She'll have an endless food source— and of course, she would keep an eye on you if you were to step out of place."

"P—please." The girl begged, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Hermione placed a swift kiss on the snake's flat head. "I'm glad we came to an accord."

. . . .

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she stared at Tom, flipping through three different volumes at once while she was still reading Salazar's blasted journals. It wasn't fair.

Sighing, she slowly closed the journal. "You've figured it out, haven't you?"

Tom hummed. "Be more specific, dove."

"You know what I'm referring to, Tom," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.

"Did you read journal entry 394? No? Back to reading them, Hermione."

Rolling her eyes, she slammed the book open. "You have to tell me sooner or later, Tom."

He snorted, flipping a page in one of the volumes he was invested in. "I'll choose the second option, thanks." He looked up, gesturing towards Slalazar's journal. "Read. Now."

"But—" she began to pout. "This will be the last time we see each other and—" she stared at him, sadly. "I'm going to miss you."

Tom barked out a laugh. "For a slytherin, you're a shite liar, dove." He gestured to the book again. "Read."

"Are you—"

Tom pulled out his wand and Hermione dropped her head, her focus fully on the sloppy writing that belonged to Salazar Slytherin.

. . . .

"And how is your school, Hermione?"

Sighing, she sagged into her chair, folding her arms across her chest as Hermione glanced around the matron's office.

"Hermione, dear—"

"School is brilliant," Hermione intercepted. "I've made friends."

Mrs Daniels smiled. "That's wonderful, dear."

. . . .

Dear Mister Ollivander,

I hope this letter finds you well. I've been meaning to write but have been so busy. I just had a question about my wand…

. . . .

"Mi!"

Swiftly turning around, Hermione smiled as she met Draco halfway. She threw her arms around him as she squealed into his ear.

"I've missed you!" She whispered to him.

He pulled away, smirking his shite eating smirk. "Of course, you did."

"Ha!" Hermione hit his shoulder. "Don't be such a prat, Draco Malfoy."

"Miss Granger," Lucius greeted, tapping his cane against the cobblestone. "Are you here alone?"

Hermione dipped her head, rolling her eyes. "Mister Malfoy. Always a pleasure and yes, Mrs Daniels doesn't really know what's going on." She lifted a brow. "I'm sure you're aware of that."

He sneered. "Indeed." Clearing his throat, he nodded his head, "shall we get your books— Draco, offer the girl your arm."

Rolling his eyes as soon as his father turned his back, Draco held out his arm for Hermione. "We need to talk."

Shooting him a wary look, she cast a glance at Lucius' back. "Not now?"

"No, later."

Nodding, Hermione followed Lucius into Flourish and Blotts. It was beyond crowded.

"Drats," Lucius cursed under his breath. "I need to run an errand, purchase your books and I'll collect you once I'm done." He stared at them firmly, his eyes narrowed in skepticism. "No funny business. Grab your books and be done."

Without another word, he swiftly strolled out of the bookshop.

Turning to Draco, she sighed, grabbing his hand. As they found some of their schoolbooks and placed them onto the counter, they turned to search for the others that were needed for DADA. Why were there so many anyway?

"Well, look who it is."

Turning to Draco, Hermione snickered and faced Weasley. "What do you want, cretin?"

"Notice anything?" Weasley smirked.

"Other than you're covered in dirt?" Draco asked. "What's the matter? Couldn't afford new dress robes so you had to borrow your brothers?"

Hermione snorted. Draco was an evil little cockroach, but he could be funny at times.

"James will be starring in our new DADA professor's book series." Weasley went on, his ugly face still smirking. "He's been named as Albus Dumbledore's apprentice, you know."

Before she could reply, Evans walked over, his hands in his pockets as he smiled tiredly at her. "Hermione."

She smiled. "James."

Draco groaned. "Evans."

James narrowed his eyes. "Malfoy."

Snorting, Hermione turned to Weasley. "If only everyone knew their manners."

"Watch it, mudblood." Weasley sneered.

Hermione and Draco shared a look, bursting into fits of laughter, missing the confused look on Weasley's face.

"Is that the best you've got?" Hermione wheezed out. "Oh, there are so many insults I could throw at you, you know."

"Leave him alone!"

Her attention caught by the little red haired girl defending what she assumed was her older brother, Hermione smiled. "Is this your little sister then, Weasley?"

Draco grimaced. "Disgusting."

Hermione cackled. "It really is. Are there more?" Hermione turned to Draco, horrified. "Please tell me there aren't any more."

"Unfortunately," Draco scowled.

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione slipped her hand into her pocket, retrieving the journal. Digging into the little girl's cauldron with her other hand, she pulled out last year's text book that had Charlie Weasley written on it.

"Couldn't afford your own books?" Hermione lifted a brow. "How sad."

James furrowed his brow. "Knock it off, Hermione, and give her her book back."

Oh, so it was alright for his friend to call her a mudblood but it was wrong for Hermione to have her fun? Hypocrite.

"Oh, apologies," Hermione said, not sounding apologetic at all, Draco snickering beside her.

She then placed her book back into her cauldron, along with the journal, a feeling of melancholy washing over her.

I'm here, my little Hermione.

Do it.

Sighing, Hermione dropped the books. "Have a brilliant first year, Weasley girl."

"You're acting strange, Hermione," James whispered, hurt flashing in his eyes.

Opening her mouth to reply, Weasley snorted. "She's a snake, James, what did you suspect? Come on, Gin."

"I'll meet you by the register, Dray," Hermione said quietly. "Give me a minute with him."

"But—"

Hermione gave him a pointed look and Draco sighed, walking off.

"Come on, James," Hermione said softly, leading him to an alcove in the book shop.

"Why are you being mean?" James asked, staring at Hermione, confused.

Swiftly turning to face him, she took out her wand and jammed the tip against his forehead. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, "but you'll only be in my way."

"Hermione—"

"Obliviate!"

Sheathing her wand away, Hermione looked both ways before exiting the alcove, unbothered to glance behind. She then made her way towards Draco standing at the register.

"Where's—"

"Face forward," Hermione hissed. "I'll explain later."

Catching Weasley's eyes across the room, Hermione lifted a brow. He quickly turned away.

My little Hermione.

Well done.

Nodding to herself, Hermione sighed. At least Dumbledore's pet wouldn't be a problem any more.

. . . .

"I feel like I've just gotten you back." Mrs Daniels sniffed.

Hermione smiled. "See you next year?"

Of course, dear." Mrs Daniels gave her a hug. "Be safe."

Making her way across Kings Cross to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Hermione made a note to remember to cast Legilimens to see what her matron was really up to.

Sighing, it seemed she would be visiting the orphanage for the Christmas holidays, after all.