On the first Sunday in October, Draco suggested they all meet in an abandoned classroom instead of the library. The official Slytherins of their group had been getting some extra attention for purposefully socializing with Gryffindors that they were trying to avoid.

"I suppose the idiots thought we were just working with you all for a project, to boost our marks," Draco explained as he carefully levitated old work tables together and to make one giant study table. Theo worked on repairing the chairs. "Once we'd spent more time than any assignment would ever require studying with you all, the commentary began."

"Idiots, all of them," Theo muttered as he set the last chair to repair itself. Hermione had to focus for a second, but she was able to wandlessly levitate two of the fixed chairs to the tables at a time. A small but mighty effort in her wandless magic training, or so she hoped.

Tracey transfigured an old towel into a tablecloth and suddenly they had a respectable place to study. Even if it was simple and a bit dusty.

"Does that window open, you think?" Harry asked. "It's a bit stale in here."

The window did, in fact, open. A few wind charms and a clever air-purifying spell Tracey's mother taught her remedied the situation quickly. With the boarded-up-basement-cellar smell aired out, they may as well have turned the old classroom into their own private common room.

Since their group table consisted of several desks large enough to seat two students, there was plenty of room for them to spread out, and no one's books were impeding anyone else's ability to write their essays.

"We should've done this ages ago," Hermione said. "This room's big enough to make a circle of desks, even."

"Next time," Draco said. "I like the circle idea."

Before she started studying, Hermione reminded Harry of the letters they'd chosen not to read at breakfast — a decision made after a brief altercation with Ron — and passed him the one he'd gotten from Sirius.

"How's quidditch pre-season for Gryffindor?" Draco asked.

"Exhausting," said Harry. "I barely even want to play, if I'm honest."

Tracey looked up from her reading and frowned at him. "Is it getting worse?" she asked. "Being in Gryffindor, I mean? I know you two have mentioned times where it's rather tiresome… Especially where Weasley's concerned."

Harry's expression darkened at the mention of Ron. "All he does nowadays is piss and moan about how he thinks Hermione's cat is going to kill the rat he doesn't lock up at night. Quidditch trash talk isn't much better in terms of intellectual quality."

"…Why doesn't Weasley have his pet safely in a cage at night when there are multiple cats in the castle and he's probably the only current student with a rat for a pet?" Theo asked slowly.

Harry and Hermione wore matching force smiles and shrugged.

"Salazar's beard," Theo muttered. "He really is a fool, no offense."

"None taken," said Harry. "I dunno why he acts like things are going to just bounce back to normal. He still hasn't apologized to Hermione for lying about her summer plans to try and exclude her from being invited to his house."

"You had better plans anyway," Draco said with a sniff.

"Agreed," chimed Hermione.

"Truly, though," Tracey said. "If you two are unhappy, can't you switch houses? I thought Lord Riddle built you two an out, if you needed it?"

Hermione and Harry shared an uncomfortable glance.

"He did," Hermione said. "There's a lot of variables to consider, though, especially with Peter Pettigrew still at large. Whatever house we're in is potentially in danger. I don't think we'd be very welcome in our true house if we brought trouble with us."

"Plus," Harry said, "I think it'd be easier to transition over a holiday. Either winter or next summer, you know?"

Tracey nodded sagely, taking her disappointment in stride. "It probably would be much easier to switch houses during a brand new year."

Theo snorted softly. "Don't mind her, she just hates her roommates."

Tracey leaned to her right and thwacked Theo in the shoulder with a roll of parchment. "You leave me alone! If Hermione joins, they'd have to move one person out of my current dorm, since it's a bare minimum of two to a room! And I'm hoping I can convince Snape to let me and Hermione share the two bed."

Hermione grinned at the thought. "I'd like that a lot, actually."

"I'd trade Blaise for Potter any day," Theo said, smirking at Draco.

"That's a fair exchange if I've ever heard one," the blond agreed.

Hermione took the chance to tune out their continued chatter so she could read the letter she'd received from Tom that morning.

Dove,

You'll have to forgive me if my answers aren't as satisfactory as you'd prefer. There's only so much I can tell you right now, after all, but I'll do my best. Also, don't fret about the contents of this letter. Abraxas and I spent a fair amount of energy deciding how to ward these pages just in case they fell in the wrong hands. Our secrets are safe on them.

You're welcome for your birthday presents. Abraxas and Flynn are anxious for you to meet their younger selves, since I'm limiting your exposure to them in present times until you do. However, Abraxas wants to know how you liked your chocolates and Flynn's worried you won't like all your silver winter wear, despite the fact that he knows good and damn well you'll love having something to wear when it's cold that isn't blatantly house affiliated.

Or, at least, that the Gryffindors probably won't pick up on.

You'll enjoy the Slytherin grimoire, but don't worry about inhaling it in one sitting. There's a very dense supply of information and old familial parselmagic in those pages. It's far from your usual light reading. If any of it confuses you, let me know. As a fifth year, I didn't know this book existed. I'll eventually find out you have it, but it took me quite some time to discover its whereabouts on my own, since it isn't in Slytherin's study in the chamber.

Now, on to your questions:

The diary will not always be a reliable form of communication, but its useability won't be interrupted solely the way you think. There will be instances where you need to write to me, but you're not in a position to sit down and scribble a note in the diary even when the connection is stable. Although there will come a time where the connection between the diaries breaks, that isn't for a very long time. If you fret over this information too much too soon, some events may not happen properly. I don't want to have to memory charm you to preserve time, but I will if that truth is too much for you right now. And, of course, your memory would be reinstated when it's safe again if needed.

As for how the diary works: Abraxas and I have a knack for modifying existing spells and spell creation. So does Professor Snape, though he's not as readily available when term is in session at Hogwarts. Abraxas was the one who figured out how to craft the magic that connects the present day diary to the past one. The same magic doesn't exist in the past version, which means Abraxas can end the spell whenever I give the word. And considering how potentially fragile space-time is with you being connected to the 1960s for as many years as you will be, it would be excessively dangerous to leave the diaries connected indefinitely.

One day, the connection will end, but that's a very long time from now and not for you to worry about. And I'll remind you to remember that I already lived through the connection breaking. My younger self is your present, but not the present. There is no way to spare him the frustrations and difficulties I've already conquered.

Yes, I started that journal long before you were born. I was twenty-one. Abraxas and Flynn were twenty-two. It was shortly before the three of us learned how we would stop aging indefinitely. (Immortality to the layman, but not quite. All magic has a price and true immortality does not exist.) That said, in simple terms, none of our enemies can kill us in our current states. Albus has landed at least a few killing curses over the years and he knows it, but he doesn't know how I'm still standing.

I don't maintain the timeline entirely alone. Abraxas and Flynn met you too, so they have their own memories and viewpoints when we brainstorm how to approach the coming challenges. As far as forcing events to happen the way I remember them, it doesn't happen as often as you'd think. The way the cards have fallen makes most of my hands-on interference more natural than forced.

Your recent birthday for example. I made a note for myself so I wouldn't forget that this year was the birthday you hid from younger me. When I found Slytherin's Grimoire, I didn't immediately remember that you'd eventually tell me how and when you acquired it. I remembered that I needed a worthwhile birthday present for this year, since I knew you would have a hard year and would be becoming a parselmouth. So I tucked it away for safekeeping after studying it myself, to save for you. It wasn't until after I decided what I was doing with it that I remembered when you told me that I'd gifted it to you for your fourteenth birthday.

Sirius's trial is another example. Yes I had to remember when he was released, and work backward to figure out when I needed to start that process in order for time to align properly, but otherwise it was simply a matter of being aware, Dove. Abraxas and Flynn helped there too. Several people tried to delay my paperwork or trial dates as we worked towards releasing Sirius, but the ones who couldn't be persuaded to see my side with words were convinced via magic.

No, I don't throw crucios around as punishments like I did as a schoolboy, at least, not in normal daily interactions. Most of the remaining Knights have gotten wiser so it takes little more than a firm word to correct mistakes as they arise. However, when an unforgivable does have to be used, I generally exhaust every other option first. The amount of charmwork and care it takes to imperio or crucio someone without them running straight to the DMLE after they realize what's happened is more tedious than I ever care to deal with.

You will help maintain time, Dove. Primarily by simply being exactly who you are. Don't fret so much about asking me what you can and can't do, time doesn't work like that. You do what you feel is right, within reason. If you're worried it's information younger me doesn't know yet, then by all means, ask me about it. But if there's something you think you should do, and that idea is purely your own, then whether or not you act on it is your choice.

Would I have cared about your birthday…that's a hard question to answer. I wasn't as aware of myself or even as conscious of what mattered to me back then. I didn't realize the importance of much on my own. I know, right now especially, that younger me is usually part tutor and part mentor, depending on how much trouble you're having in Divination on any given week. But I learn from you as well. I wasn't kidding back then when I told you to ask younger Abraxas and Flynn how tolerant I wasn't of their playing around versus how I interact with you. But that doesn't mean I had figured out why it didn't bother me to give you that leeway yet.

So…yes, I would've cared, even if I didn't realize it or know how to show it. I didn't learn what friendship looked and felt like until you showed me.

Of course you're still my friend, Dove. No, I don't consider anyone else a friend, not even now. Only you and my damn head house elf insist that Abraxas and Flynn are friends. They're my loyalist and brightest advisers after you, that's certain. I'm still not fond of the word friend, however. You'll notice that once again, you're an exception to a rule.

And yes, I remember that night in the pipe corridor. All I'll say is this: I thought I learned how to navigate the world during my time at Wool's, but all they taught me was how to 'tread water and look like a shark', so to speak. I learned how to keep myself safe in an unsafe environment. But I didn't even learn that Wool's wasn't normal until I sometimes started to contemplate the differences in our upbringings. What I then considered your naive charm, I eventually realized was what being safe looked like. To keep playing with your little metaphor: I didn't learn to swim until you made me realize we were in a pool, not the ocean.

Abraxas, Flynn, and I can't think of anything else that we can tell you to look out for right now, but there is one thing I just realized younger me didn't tell you: When you go to visit Cherie without me, always bring Crookshanks. He'll protect you in the dark when I'm not there.

You go to Hogsmeade next weekend, don't you? If you don't want to spend all of your birthday money, do remember that your sponsorship comes with an allowance stipend that's at the discretion of your sponsor. Write me if you want pocket money, though your accounts should be on file at most of the shops in town. Theo, Draco, Harry, and Tracey all have their own money from their parents, so you won't need to go out of your way to treat your friends, but if something catches your eye in the village, I want you to have the means of buying it without having to ask your friends for money.

Abraxas and Flynn bought whatever I wanted when I was in school, in part because they knew better than to remind me that I didn't have money of my own beyond the ministry grants for my school things, but you're not like me in that regard, Dove. And I want you to have as good of a time as possible with your friends. The happier you are, the less of a target you are for dementors, after all.

Let me know if you need anything or have more questions, Dove. I'll always answer what I can.

Tom

Hermione slowly let out a deep breath, then refolded the pages of Tom's letter and put them back into her bag.

She was surprised to see him mention the Knights, having assumed the Knights of Walpurgis had evolved into the Order of Hermes, but perhaps she'd under-thought the issue. The more she considered the idea, the more she realized Tom probably had all of his allies under the Order's banner, but kept the Knights as his inner circle.

Glancing around at her studying and quietly chatting friends, her inner circle, Hermione found herself quite glad for the differences between herself and Tom. Even if those differences caused friction between them at times, at least her most trusted companions were her friends.

Though, apparently, she would teach Tom about the value of friendship to some degree. She dreaded to think what the orphanage must've been like, but considering it was the one subject his younger self either outright avoided or glossed over when it was discussed, she could only imagine his childhood had been miserable.

She wondered how often he had fits of wandless magic as a child, wondered if those fits got him bullied in primary school like she had been. They likely had.

She spared Harry a glance. He appeared to be finished with his letter from Sirius judging by the conflicted expression he wore. Before she could ask if he was alright, he addressed the group.

"Do you guys think my parents would be upset if I called Sirius 'Dad'?" he asked. "I'm just...he wants me to come up with some ideas for things that will help us both feel more connected while I'm at school and that's the first thing that came to mind…"

"Didn't your parents choose him as your godfather?" Theo asked. "I think they'd want you to address him however you'd like given the circumstances."

"Yeah, me too," Tracey said. "Do you remember him at all?"

A small smile tugged at Harry's mouth. "A little," he admitted. "But enough to know he meant as much to me as my parents did when I was a baby."

"I think it'd mean the world to him if you did," Hermione said carefully. "But only if you were doing it because you really feel like he's a father to you or wanted to bestow him that title."

"Yeah," Harry muttered. "He's the only Dad I've had though. So I'm not sure what else I could even compare him to. My aunt and uncle just let Dudley do whatever he wanted all the time and didn't really act like Sirius does about looking out for me..."

"What about Molly?" Hermione offered. "She was kind of an extra parent to both of us the summer before everything with Ron."

"Sirius isn't as frazzled as Missus Weasley," Harry said. "But I suppose it's similar."

"Different parenting styles and personalities," Hermione said. "Deciding if Sirius makes you feel loved and watched out for, though, should be comparable to whether or not you felt safe and looked after at the Burrow."

Harry pondered her point for a few moments. "In that case, Sirius exceeds Missus Weasley."

"Easily done that," Draco said wryly.

Theo and Tracey snickered.

"You could also test it out for a bit before you write him back," Hermione suggested. "Get a feel for it. I can try to remember to refer to him as your dad for a while?"

"Yeah, that might be a good idea," Harry said. "He told me to take a few days to think of things, but that I could write back about whatever else I wanted sooner if I needed to."

Hermione threw him an encouraging smile as she reached for her most pressing bit of school work. "Did your dad have anything else to say?" she asked.

The grin Harry tried to hide by focusing back down on his desk made him look unmistakably boyish and reminded Hermione of the few pictures she's seen of him as a baby on his last birthday.

"Not really," Harry said. "Mostly just advice about how to deal with the annoying bits with Quidditch and suggestions for things to do in Hogsmeade. He asked if Ron was still trying to guilt you into helping him with his homework."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gestured to her unfinished Divination assignment. "I have enough work to do managing my own studies to waste my time carrying him through his."

"Lazy wanker," chimed Theo.

Their discussions petered out again, allowing Hermione to temporarily focus her full attention on the Divination homework that had been giving her trouble for days. Thankfully, the magical hum signifying Tom was writing in the diary began to resonate from her bag before she could start ripping her hair out again.

Hello, Dove. Will you still be able to come to the Room tonight?

Yes, she wrote. Of course, why?

You'll be meeting the idiots.

She grinned, peaking at Draco, who was too busy looking at Astronomy charts to notice her.

One of those idiots is one of my best mate's grandfather and the other is his honorary great-uncle, she mock-scolded. And I'll have you know the grandson is quite clever.

You know good and damn well that I wouldn't associate with either of them if they weren't intelligent. I just can't decide if watching them trip over themselves to impress you is going to be hilarious or annoying.

She rolled her eyes. Sometimes you're obnoxious too, she penned carefully. Just in different ways.

What was that? I couldn't hear you over the memory of a Gryffindor being afraid of the dark.

Hermione glared at his dark green words until the ink faded. If I thought she'd do it, I'd tell Cherie to eat you next time she saw you.

"Talking to Riddle?" Tracey asked.

Hermione blinked up to find the witch giving her a knowing grin and tried not to blush. "He's being an arse," she said. "But I get to meet Draco's grandfather tonight."

"Is that today?" Draco asked. "He mentioned it was soon in his last letter, but didn't give me any specifics."

"I don't think she meets my father anytime soon," said Theo. "Though I did ask if he'd met her during this whole time nonsense and he said yes."

"Tom doesn't mention Theron much," Hermione said. "Abraxas and Flynn are the only two he's keeping in his true inner circle. But your father's a Knight isn't he?"

Theo nodded. "Low ranked until well after they graduate. Told me once that he and Riddle didn't really learn to trust each other or see eye to eye until a decade or two after they left school."

"So bloody weird," Harry muttered. "I dunno how you all keep up with it."

"We don't," Draco said. "Poppy keeps me on a need to know basis. Theo's father isn't in the thick of things either, usually. I really only get specifics if Hermione talks about it or my grandfather is worried I won't be somewhere I'm supposed to be without a nudge in the right direction."

"Mum didn't meet Riddle until she started working at the ministry," Tracey said. "That was years ago but still."

"Tom's the only one who really knows what all happens when," Hermione said. "Even though I have exactly no idea how the wanker knows half of what he does. I don't tell him everything."

Draco shrugged. "I've asked. Poppy won't tell me either."

If I thought she'd do it, I'd tell Cherie to eat you next time she saw you.

Tom almost choked on a bite of alfredo-covered broccoli. The threat of suffocation coupled with his sudden mirth made his eyes water. He was glad he'd chosen to avoid Dumbledore by taking his early dinner to the Room of Requirement. His choking fit would've surely garnered far more attention from his Transfiguration professor than he cared for.

Abraxas and Flynn both shot him worried glances, which he waved off. He managed to swallow his food without dying, coughed alfredo from his lungs, and quietly chuckled and coughed into his napkin.

"The hell is funny enough to nearly kill you?" Flynn asked.

Tom wiped his eyes. "Dove threatened to feed me to my basilisk."

"I thought she was supposed to be Slytherin?" he asked. "Where's her self-preservation?"

Tom's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "She's got a bold streak. How else do you think she landed in Gryffindor?"

You're incredibly amusing when you're offended, he told her.

"Are you still wanting to test the new spells we were working on?" Abraxas asked. "I'm not sure how much time we have until she joins us."

"A few hours," Tom said. "It's not even lunch for her yet."

Hermione didn't reply right away, to Tom's mild disappointment. He had hoped his teasing would spark a war of words since he couldn't properly engage in verbal warfare through the pages of their diary. But their little sparring matches never ceased to amuse him.

"Could try a few now," Tom said, mulling over the spell practice idea. "If any of them work, you might catch a glimpse of your grandson."

Abraxas blinked, then frowned. "If any of these spells work, we're all going to feel ancient."

Tom shrugged. "We shouldn't see ourselves while she's at school. And even if we did, surely I've figured out immortality by her time."

The mental image of you trying to outrun Cherie is far more entertaining than this bloody divination homework. This class is rubbish.

Tom pursed his lips. Divination was often over-embellished, but until he could fully rule out Hermione having a gift towards some branch of the art, he loathed to dissuade her from the subject. With her inclination towards his familial magic and how quickly she'd learned to cast her Fiendfyre, he would be surprised if she didn't also have some other affinity-based magical attunement.

It would also be immensely convenient, if not redundant, for the little witch to be some sort of seer. Tom doubted it though, she didn't show any of the usual early warning signs of the talent.

What are you stuck on? he asked her. I assume Professor Ashling retired if you're having trouble. It's one of the electives with the highest passing rate in my time.

Tarot shite, she wrote.

"Which spell do you want to start with?" Abraxas asked him, bringing him back into the Room of Requirement. "The modified scrying spells?"

"No," Tom said. "I have my galleons on the verbal spells. Let's start there."

Abraxas passed him the parchment they'd covered in existing spells and spells of their own creation. Tom aimed at the blank wall to his left and started with the spells he had the most faith in while he awaited Hermione's next response.

The first two failures didn't surprise him. They were parental monitoring spells and extremely short use in their original forms. He hoped magical intent would alter the outcome, but no luck. He crossed out every spell that didn't work, pausing between attempts to try and suss out how to help Hermione with her homework.

"Didn't we learn the Card Association Charm in third year?" he asked the boys. "When we studied Tarot fundamentals?"

"Yeah," Flynn said. "Why?"

"Dove's starting on fundamentals but they haven't been taught the spellwork to go with their practical assignments. So it seems every exercise requires her to depend on her underdeveloped magical ability in Divination."

"Is Dippet still headmaster?" Abraxas asked. "Who the hell would approve that drastic of a curriculum change?"

Tom gave them a weighted look. "Dumbledore is her headmaster."

"Oh the poor thing," Abraxas muttered. "Why the hell do we let that happen?"

"Purely to maintain the sanctity of time, I imagine," Tom said. "Either way, I'm waiting for her to give me specifics about her assignment. If we can help her without giving her an obvious edge to her curriculum, we need to. I don't want to give her skills that might tip off Dumbledore to pay more attention to her than I'm sure he already does considering she's my sponsee in the future."

He threw a few more spell variations at the wall with no luck and sighed.

"Something has to work," he muttered. "How am I supposed to keep the future intact if I can't bloody see and take note of things that happen?"

He'd made his way through all but the last four spells on the page when Hermione started writing him back again.

I've done a three-card spread several times. I keep getting the same three cards in the same exact order, but I don't know which card represents which area of my life or how to even begin guessing what this shite means. The High Priestess reversed, the Tower, and Knight of Pentacles. Again and again.

Tom summoned his divination textbook as he glared at the list of spells he hadn't tried. For some reason, his eyes kept being drawn back to one spell in particular. Vigilio Servo. One of many spells he and Abraxas had created, built out arithmancy tables for, and studied countless rune variations in order to come up with the best potential wand movements.

This one had no wand movement, however. It was a spell that relied almost entirely on caster intent, which made it the least likely to work from a magical theory perspective, even if those were the spells Tom liked best.

Raw, fluid magic was more fun to tame.

Despite the budding pain in his temples from trying to force his magic to work with the failed spells, Tom pointed his wand towards the wall, and still glaring at the page, muttered the incantation. The light caught his attention almost immediately as the wall glowed silver for a brief moment before an old classroom full of third years came into view.

And there she was.

A/N: Happy New Year, Gang!

I thought I had things to actually say in this A/N but like...My brain is producing nothing so? I love you all? Thanks for reading? Next chapter will probably happen in 2-3 weeks since it's a continuation of this one and as fun as cliffhangers can be I also hate using them in a fanfic format because it feels like a cop out to me...idk it just feels like a too-easy way to create suspense and tension so I limit when and how I use it.

ANYWAY.

Don't forget to come hang with me on Tumblr ( littlemulattokitten) and Twitter ( mulattokitten)! Those are the best places to hang with me~ I also shitpost constantly and frequently about any and everything I'm working on so it's a great way to get little doses of content between updates.

Okay I love you guys, byeeee!