"I absolutely, categorically refuse to be kept prisoner to this bed any longer," Hermione declared.

"Oh, pish, posh," Madam Fletcher dismissed, preparing the next potion. "You need to rest-"

"I've rested enough to last me a lifetime," Hermione snapped back, most definitely losing her temper. She ignored the dark look the Matron sent her as she opened her mouth for the disgusting potion in front of her. "You can't stop me from taking a walk," she warned after swallowing.

"No, no I can't," Madam Fletcher conceded. "And you are looking healthier…"

"Isn't a nice, calming, summer walk exactly what I need?" Hermione wheedled instead, changing tactics. "Some fresh air, stretching my muscles…"

The Matron pursed her lips as she helped Hermione with the last potion, her nostrils flaring.

"Fine," she said finally, and Hermione almost jumped in joy. Instead, she just beamed at the Matron, practically vibrating out of the bed. "But," she continued, "You will have a chaperone with you, and you'll have to be back by lunch! And you will take regular breaks!"

"Yes, yes," Hermione agreed, already planning out the quickest route to the Library.

"I'm serious, Miss Graves," the Matron warned, putting the stopper in the bottles. "If I get so much as a peep that you haven't been following my advice, I'll put you on bed rest for a week. "

Hermione swallowed, but she managed a weak smile. "I promise," she vowed. Then her grin widened. "Am I allowed to take books out from the Library?"

The Matron sighed deeply, but she smiled fondly. "Yes, you may; I'll write you a note. But you're limited to three books!"

"Five?" Hermione asked hopefully, widening her eyes to appear as innocent as possible.

"Four," the Matron replied testily. "And that's final. "

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she squealed, and she threw her arms around the older woman's waist, to her great surprise.

Ten minutes later saw Hermione putting on a second (or possibly third) hand Gobstones Club t-shirt. It fit her marginally better than the Hufflepuff one, and it was less of an eyesore than its canary yellow counterpart. The black top worked quite nicely with the grey wool pants that Hermione had fished out from the Lost and Found chest, if she did say so herself. She cinched the waist with a thick brown leather belt, and slipped on black Mary-Janes. She had unfortunately lost quite a bit of weight over the last few months, so the clothes were a little baggy on her. The stress of OWLs, Umbridge, Harry's visions, Voldemort, the Battle, the injury-

Well. It led to some not-so-healthy eating habits from Hermione.

"Miss Graves," Madam Fletcher's voice called from the other side of the bathroom door. "Mr Abbott is here to escort you."

"I'll be out in a minute," she called back. She looked at herself in the mirror, noting that her dark circles had reduced from the bucket bags they were, to more acceptable clutch bags. Her skin looked less tired and sunken, her hair looked thicker.

Although, I don't know if that's an improvement, she thought as she assessed the mass of curls critically. With a deep sigh, she pulled the top half of her hair back and tied it with the tie around her wrist. She watched with pursed lips as a few curls escaped their prison and bounced onto her forehead. She pulled a few more strands out, so they didn't look so lonely, before turning around to leave the small room.

She immediately noticed the tall blond leaning against the wall opposite the door.

"You must be Mr Abbott," Hermione said immediately, raising her hand politely. "I'm Hermione Graves."

The blond seemed to raise an eyebrow at her hand, before smiling politely.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Robert Abbott," he replied in a smooth voice. He grasped her hand, before bringing her knuckles up to brush his lips against them.

Hermione was coming to despise the forties. If she wanted men's saliva on her hands, she would sit directly opposite Ron after he had been starved for a week.

"Pleasure," Hermione grimaced, pulling her hand back. She placed her hand in her pocket, subtly wiping the practically dry skin against the material on the inside. "Shall we?" And without waiting, she led him out of the corridor into the Hospital wing proper. He seemed to hang back for a few seconds, before following her out.

"Do you need to grab anything from your bed?" he asked, his tone polite as he easily kept pace with her smaller frame.

"No, I have everything on me," she replied back, walking past the beds. She shot the Matron a short wave, smiling at her slightly bewildered face.

"Ah, then it seems we can make our way out," he stated. "Madam Fletcher mentioned that you wanted to check the Library out first?"

"Yes!" Hermione replied with a grin. She turned to catch his brown eyes, her own sparkling. "I do enjoy reading!" They reached the Hospital Wing's doors, and she reached forward to open them.

"Allow me," Abbott cut her off, reaching forward quicker than her. She frowned in response, but allowed him to open them. He stood to the side, and allowed her to go forward first.

"Thanks," she replied, somewhat awkwardly. She immediately turned right, walking down the corridor.

"Have you been to the Library before?" Abbott asked curiously, and Hermione could have smacked herself.

"Ah…" she said, slowing down, "No, no I haven't. But Madam Fletcher explained some of Hogwarts to me, so I made an educated guess…" She trailed off rather lamely, and she just knew that she was blushing.

"Of course," he accepted easily with a nod, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. That was… surprisingly easy. "I'll lead the way then?"

"Yes, please," she conceded, slowing right down so they were in step. "Sorry if it looked like I was trying to run away from you," she explained awkwardly. "I'm just excited to see the Library, is all."

"That's… fair," he replied, and God, Hermione could hear how odd he found that. "Did you know that it's one of the largest in Great Britain?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. Then she paused. "Do you know any more interesting trivia about Hogwarts?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Abbott conceded, gentleman that he was. He then went into a spiel that lasted their entire walk to the Library, explaining the House system, the history of the Founders, the traditions and culture at the prestigious school. Hermione responded appropriately, asking questions at the right places, despite how utterly boring he was. He was a lovely boy, just a bit dull . She found out that he was a Gryffindor sixth year Prefect, a Pureblood with two younger siblings (one in Gryffindor with him, the other in Ravenclaw), and a fascination for Potions. As they walked through the quiet Sunday corridors of Hogwarts, Hermione was hyper aware of the looks she was garnering from their fellow students. She caught a few stares and whispers, and tugged on her ratty top self consciously.

"... And that's how the classes are split up for OWLs and NEWTs," he rounded up as they reached the library door.

"Fascinating," Hermione responded, desperately trying to hide the boredom in her voice, and failing completely.

"This is the Library," he pointed out rather redundantly: there was a sign right next to the door. "I'll allow you to browse at your leisure. Shall we meet back here in thirty minutes?"

"Make it forty-five," Hermione responded in a distracted voice. Not waiting any longer, she pushed the doors open, ignoring Abbott's small jerk to open the door for her. She smiled widely, taking a deep breath of the lovely, familiar smell of books.

She was home.

"Miss Graves." A soft voice pulled her out of her skimming, and Hermione startled. She dropped the hefty tome onto the desk in front of her, grabbing her wand in her pocket and pressing it up against the throat of the intruder-

Abbott's startled eyes stared at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, flustered. She quickly pulled her wand down, putting it back in her trouser pockets with shaky fingers. "You startled me."

"I… apologise," he muttered, drawing back quickly. He cleared his throat and pulled on his high collared shirt. "I was just checking up on you, it's been an hour since we've arrived."

"Oh," Hermione replied simply, her face getting steadily warmer. "I'm sorry you had to wait, I'll just-"

"Ah, you need not concern yourself over that," he dismissed. He then nodded to the stack of books. "Is Madam Fletcher allowing you to loan all of those books out?"

"No," Hermione replied sullenly, suddenly feeling dismayed. "Only four."

"Well, may I recommend which ones would be most useful for your NEWTs?" Abbott suggested, and he walked around to pull out the chair opposite her. Hermione looked at him oddly; there was a seat right next to her.

Maybe because I might be considered infirm?

"That would be useful," she replied with gratitude. "I just don't know which ones to take out first! They all seem so fascinating."

"I would get rid of this one first," Abbott started, picking up an advanced Ancient Runes textbook. "This is stuff for the end of Sixth year. We have only just finished covering it ourselves."

Hermione frowned, but nodded. I'll just have to come back for that one.

Slowly, the two of them whittled the ten books down to the acceptable four, and his occasionally condescending attitude aside, Abbott was rather nice company. Useful, too. She ended up with three Introduction to NEWT books (Ancient Runes, Transfiguration and Charms), and one on recent history.

"Thank you for your help, Abbott," Hermione said as they walked away from the front desk. Abbott had chivalrously offered to carry her books back to the Hospital Wing, and after a minor altercation, Hermione had agreed. If only to keep the prying eyes from examining her more than they already have.

"You are most welcome, Miss Graves," he said politely. And as poor of Hermione as this was, she kind of missed her rough, coarse speaking Gryffindor friends. Even though Abbott was also a Gryffindor, he might have been the dullest person she had ever met. Right after Theodore Nott; that boy could make watching paint dry seem fun. And that was coming from Hermione, who willingly sat through Percy's long lectures on cauldron bottom thickness. "I will now lead us back to the Hospital Wing."

Hermione truly tried to refrain from rolling her eyes.

She failed miserably.

Unfortunately, that was when she caught the eye of Tom Riddle.

Hermione froze for a second, before raising a hand to give him a short wave. He was standing near the entrance of the Library, speaking in quiet tones with a dark haired Slytherin. At her wave, he gave a short nod back, his back ramrod straight, his smile perfectly curved upwards until it twisted his cheeks.

Hermione wanted to wipe that grotesque look off his face.

"Morning, Riddle," she said politely as they walked past.

"Miss Graves," Riddle replied, pausing in his conversation. "It's nice to see you up on your feet."

"It's good to be back on my feet," Hermione agreed. Abbott paused in their walk to allow her to have a quick chat, and he seemed rather pleased.

"I see you've already made some friends?" Abbott asked, a small smile on his lips.

"Friends? Acquaintances," Hermione corrected. She completely missed the shared looks amongst the boys as she nodded towards Riddle. "He was the one who discovered me at the gates, and brought me in."

"Ah, of course," Abbott replied, his smile curiously stiff.

"Already on the hunt for more books?" Riddle asked after a moment of silence, nodding to the pile in Abbott's arms.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "Madam Fletcher is only letting me loan out four though."

"You do need to rest," Riddle said diplomatically.

Hermione almost snorted.

A perfect answer, from the Perfect Prefect, Hermione mocked. Neither agreeing or disagreeing with my want for more books, or Madam Fletcher's instructions. Just stating the obvious.

Judging by Riddle's questioning glance, she hadn't been completely successful at hiding her annoyance.

"Who's this?" she asked instead, changing the topic of the conversation with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.

"Ah, yes. Miss Graves, this is Antonin Dolohov, a fellow classmate of mine," Riddle introduced.

Hermione froze for the second time in as many minutes.

She tried to find some similarities between the young boy in front of her, and the twisted face of the man who would curse her in fifty-three year's time, and she could only pinpoint dark hair and a rather prominent, down-turned nose. She scrutinised the Slytherin in front of her, from his slightly hunched shoulders to his large-knuckled hands.

Who was now looking at her oddly.

"Pleasure," she finally got out, raising a hand. She allowed the customary brush of the lips, and tried her best not to snatch it out of his hand. The scar on her chest twinged as the boy kept looking at her oddly, and she tried to wipe her hand as discreetly as possible on the inside of her pocket. "I'm Hermione Graves."

"How do you do," the boy replied, and Hermione could hear a slight accent on his words.

Was Dolohov Russian? Maybe French. Relation to the Malfoys? Dark, powerful magic-

"Well, we should set off," Hermione heard herself say, and she turned to Abbott. "Wouldn't want Madam Fletcher to send out a search party after me." She once again missed the odd looks from the boys around her, and instead turned to the door, before looking back at the two Slytherins. "Nice seeing you again, Riddle. Nice to meet you… Dolohov." With that, she stalked out of the Library, not waiting for Abbott.

They walked back in relative silence, broken only by Abbott's odd comment on some trivia or the other. Hermione tried to stay engaged, but she was completely distracted.

That man will hurt you .

That man has hurt you.

Not yet.

Riddle probably lives at the Library, she thought abstractly. I need to be careful what I borrow from there.

Hermione bid adieu to Abbott as they arrived at her bed, thanking him again.

"You're most welcome, Miss Graves," he replied, placing her books on her nightstand. "If you need me to escort you anywhere, just let Madam Fletcher know, and I'll figure it out with my schedule."

"Of course, thank you," Hermione nodded, immediately moving to rearrange the books. "Have a good day!"

With that last parting comment, Abbott thankfully, blissfully left.

Hermione fell onto her bed, fully clothed but careful to leave her feet off of it. She toed her shoes off, closed her eyes and sunk into the thin mattress.

Is this going to be a daily occurrence? Will I see ghosts in every face, around every corner?

Not if you don't allow it to, Harry's voice said firmly. That Dolohov is a child. The same as you. Albeit, a rather twisted one, but a boy nonetheless. No one is saying befriend him, but don't put the crimes of his future self on him. That's not fair.

You're right, Hermione thought sullenly. I know you're right. I should give them all a chance, but…

Jesus, Hermione, Ron interrupted with what Hermione imagined to be a roll of his eyes. We're not telling you to shag the boy - Hermione sputtered mentally - just… remain open-minded.

Approach this situation… like a reconnaissance mission, Harry's voice explained. Observe, gather data, collate information and present concluding arguments.

Like a… research paper? Hermione asked tentatively.

Exactly like a research paper, Harry agreed. You can't allow your biases to affect the outcome. Think of the observer effect!

You don't want it to become a self-fulfilling prophecy, Ron explained.

You're right, Hermione exclaimed. Completely right. I'll be more… scientific in my approach. First plan of action, I need an aim for my research…

That's our girl, Ron's voice said fondly, and Hermione blushed.

Hermione ignored her new books for the rest of the afternoon, focussing on her 'research paper' instead.

1. Aim: to observe and collate data on Voldemort and his followers.

2. Sources: Voldemort, original DEs (Dolohov is one, who are the rest?), Dumbledore, Library, Riddle family, etc.

3. Collect data: per person, per year, per relationship

4. Present data: lists, graphs, charts, mind maps

5. Conclusions: Voldemort's character, ambitions, strengths, weaknesses, future plans?

Hermione looked at her list, satisfied. It would do for now. She will change and adapt it as she gained new information, but it would do for now. She immediately got a new parchment out, writing TOM RIDDLE at the top of the page. Under 'relationships', she put Professor Dumbledore, Antonin Dolohov, then Madam Fletcher.

• Professor Dumbledore

- Mutual dislike

• Antonin Dolohov

- Friendly

- Academic equal? - check class rankings

• Madam Fletcher

- Flirty

It was rather pitiful, but she continued. Under 'personality', she wrote down:

• Intelligent

• Observant

• Manipulative and calculating

• Deceitful

• Socially adept

She stared at the last bullet point, almost jealously.

Whatever. At least I'm not a psychopath.

Hermione made further 'character sheets' on Professor Dumbledore, Antonin Dolohov, Madam Fletcher and Robert Abbott. She was woefully missing information, especially under the 'motivation' subheading, but it would have to do for now.

With that thought on her mind, Hermione reached to grab the sandwiches the elves had put out for her tea. She frowned at the neatly placed rectangles of bread, but decided that she should focus on one problem at a time.

I wonder if Riddle made it to the Chamber today… God, it would be so useful to have the Map right now…

The Map!

Hermione immediately gathered all the parchments she had stacked on the lower shelf of her nightstand, almost hitting herself because of how stupid she was being-

With shaking hands, Hermione tapped on each parchment and intoned the spell she had cajoled out of a drunk Sirius the previous Christmas. She watched with wide eyes as the ink disappeared before her eyes, sighing a deep breath of relief she hadn't realised she had been holding.

God, I almost handed over the most incriminating evidence I have to the darkest wizard in recent history!

She had almost left all of those parchments unguarded! In such a public place too!

She needed somewhere safer…

With an uncomfortable weight on her chest, she called out, "Tilly," into the room. A loud crack made her jump in the air, and Hermione was suddenly faced with a three foot high bundle of excitement.

"Missus calls Tilly?" the house-elf asked in a squeaky voice.

"Yes, I did," Hermione said, still uncomfortable. "How are you doing today?"

That question seemed to both terrify and excite Tilly at the same time. "Missus is too kind!" she- he- they squeaked out. "We house elves be having the same schedule every day! We is being kept busy!"

"Right," Hermione said. "But how are you feeling?" she probed, and she jumped when Tilly squealed.

"Tilly can't be answering that, Missus! It won't be's proper! Tilly's grandmother would have her hide!" Tilly squawked, her voice reaching new levels of Hertz previously unknown to Hermione.

"Okay," Hermione replied, defeated. For now. "I just wanted to ask… Is there anything in Lost and Found that could protect my belongings? An old trunk, or school bag or something?"

Tilly was already nodding furiously.

"Tilly's be having the perfect thing, Missus! If you'll excuses Tilly…!" And with that, she popped away. Hermione only had to wait around thirty seconds, before Tilly's reappearing crack made her jump again. "Tilly's be finding this in the Come and Go room," she said proudly, holding up a satchel. It seemed a little worn, but otherwise new. "Items appears in the Come and Go room when Hogwarts decides it's no longer needed, Missus!"

"So it won't be missed?" Hermione clarified, taking it from the diminutive elf.

"No!" Tilly replied proudly.

Come and Go room… that's what Dobby told Harry…

"Thank you, Tilly," Hermione said sincerely, looking up to meet the wide blue orbs of the elf. To her dismay, tears welled up in the tennis balls in front of her.

"Missus Hermy is most gracious, most kind," Tilly whimpered, her voice cracking almost painfully.

"Of course!" Hermione said with a smile, trying to hide her wince at the god-awful nickname that Ron had tried calling her once. Without thinking, she placed a hand on Tilly's hand that was resting on the bed.

Tilly immediately burst into tears.

"Missus shouldn't be's touching an elf! It's not proper!" she wailed, and Hermione watched in horror as the elf slumped to the floor in apparent distress.

I have to do something!

But what!?

Make her feel useful, Ron's voice suggested.

"Hey… hey Tilly," Hermione said uneasily, trying to speak over the loud cries. "Are there… any books in this Come and Go room?" She didn't think that there would be, but what would be the harm in asking?

Tilly hiccuped to a stop, her wailing quietening down.

"Would Missus like Tilly's to go check?" the elf asked hopefully.

Hermione sighed deeply, before reluctantly gritting out, "Yes."

Tilly immediately perked up.

"Tilly's is right on it, Missus! Tilly's will be right back!"

Before Hermione could say anything, she had popped away.

That was awful.

AN (from Ao3):

Three new characters introduced here! Let me know of your initial reactions/thoughts on them!

Sorry for the lack of Tomione in this chapter, I'm planning on uploading the next chapter immediately after this one. Maybe the next few after it tbh; the beginning of fics/books are always so slow.

As always, I love you all 3