Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter character's or anything related to the works of J.K Rowling. I only own the plot and original characters you may notice as you read this chapter.

I do not have a beta to help with any errors in this chapter, or any of the other chapters you may read from this installment. Thank you for reading this, and let me know what you think.

1939-1940

The second year had only begun literally three months ago, and Ophelia could not believe the amount of work that had to be done for herbology. She expected potions or even the history of magic to require more research and paperwork and be the most time consuming, but no, it had to be herbology.

To make matters a little worse, her newer copy of 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' was nowhere as helpful to her as the older copy Poppa gave her. The difference: the former young Gryffindor student had wonderfully helpful notes scribbled of his own in the older copy...though for one reason or another she felt very generous and lent it to a pain in the arse classmate, and now she suffered the consequences.

I knew I shouldn't have waited till the last minute! Her hand cramped as she continued to power through her study session; the Hufflepuff student decided to make sure that the next time any herbology assignment would be done the day it was handed to her. Another mental note was etched into her head to ask Poppa what he knew of Mandrakes.

"You know," said an arrogant voice as it broke Ophelia's concentration, "I am surprised that for all the work you do, you're not a Ravenclaw."

The Hufflepuff student sighed, put her quill down in a tense manner, and tucked her chocolate brown hair behind her right ear before acknowledging the Slytherin student in front of her. It was sort of her 'count to ten' technique when he'd find time to antagonize her.

"Riddle," The brunette stated as her green eyes lazily looked up at him. "How may I help you today?" While she wasn't exactly sincere with her question, she was only half way irritated with the boy. Ophelia's head was too fried from studying to even really process anything but irritation at the moment.

In a quick manner Tom dropped a worn out and dull copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. Not at all caring that the old textbook made a deep noise that echoed in the library; not caring at all that Ophelia deeply hated the sound of heavy books hitting table tops.

"Your grandfather's notes were quite useful," Tom told her, "I wasn't expecting to be granted a cheat sheet for transfiguration."

A small smile pulled at Ophelia's lips; that was the closest thing he'd ever give her as a thank you. "Are you almost done with Poppa's copy of Magical Herbs and Fungi?" Ophelia gestured to her parchment of notes as she spoke, "I really need it back sometime tonight, you see-."

A disgusting little smirk came on the second year boy's face and he arched up one perfectly dark eyebrow at her as he interrupted the sentence. "Is that right, Darwin," he mocked as he noticed Ophelia's neat handwriting and limited notes of Mandrakes. "I'm sorry but, no, I think I'll need it for a little while longer."

Before Ophelia could say anything else (good or bad) to reason with Tom Riddle to return her own book back, he already was quietly making his way out of the library. Small beads of tears collected at the corner of her eyes from her frustration.

What a complete arse, Ophelia thought as she went back to her notes. She was definitely planned to write to Poppa, specifically about all things herbology related.

1940-1941

"Margo," Ophelia laughed since she absolutely could not come to grips with her friend's crazy pure-blooded family and their sudden fascination with muggle technology. "You cannot be serious?"

"Oh, but I am!" The girl with deep blue eyes, and pure blonde hair which reached up to her mid-back screamed. "I don't know how you manage all those appliances, Pipa!" Margo Blaine turned her head to another member sitting in the same compartment, "Did you know they have a device that does your laundry for you," Margo whispered lowly to the boy who sat across from them. "They call it a washing machine, but Merlin, I have no idea how they get it to work!"

"Careful now," a boy with ashy brown, shortly cropped hair and gray eyes teased, "Pipa might mock you and tell you that there is even a machine that dries the clothes too." Peter, who like Margo did not grow up in a household with 'muggle devices' also came from a pure-blooded family that had no clue that there indeed was a machine made for drying clothes.

"Oh," Ophelia smiled wholeheartedly,it was only a small bit smug, "but there is a machine that does that."

A gasp came out of Margo's mouth as she put her hand over her heart, while Peter's eyes widened with slight surprise.

Maybe I should tell them about jukeboxes and television, she half joked to herself. No, she thought with glee. I'll tell them about Frank Sinatra, they'd love him!

The compartment door slid opened before Ophelia could share her fondness of Frank with her fellow Hufflepuffs.

"Tom," Margo beamed at the boy who peeked into their compartment; she even flashed a smile that could have blinded a dragon. Peter Elwood rolled his eyes at Margo's display, annoyed that his childhood friend greeted almost every male member of human species that way.

Ophelia pretended that was Tom Riddle didn't even open the compartment. If he would have waited at least forty-five more minutes before barging in she wouldn't have minded...or longer, because forty-five minutes was not enough to talk about to Frank Sinatra (at least, in her head.)

Tom zeroed in on Ophelia; he made it clear last year before they'd left for the summer she was to come into his compartment and fill him in on what was to be expected of their third year and trade off some books that would be of great use to him. He was more than angry when he entered his usual train compartment and only saw his Slytherin followers.

"Miss Darwin," Tom said in smooth and silky voice, "Could I please speak with you for a minute."

Ophelia casted a side glance at the third year boy, his facade only extended to her when there were other students around. "Oh, but Mr. Riddle," Ophelia's overly polite tune sounded like a song, as she tried to mock Tom's fake pleasantries towards her, "we were having the nicest conversation just now. I'd hate to leave my friends."

A menacing flash appeared in eyes, but Tom Riddle kept his composure, "Don't make me ask again, please, Miss Darwin?" Surprisingly, those words still sounded cool and charming and not at all like a dreadful warning.

Fine.

Ophelia stood up and gently smoothed out her uniform before grabbing an older copy of Ancient Runes Made Easy and Intermediate Transfiguration. "I might be back," Ophelia said to her friends with a small pout on her face as she stepped out to talk with Tom, she made sure to slide the door shut as she left.

Not many students were wandering up and down the hallways of the Hogwarts Express: Tom didn't have to pretend to nice, or charming to Ophelia.

"The books," Ophelia stated as she held out the books for him to take. "Like all the rest, Poppa's handwriting is all over it."

The Slytherin boy snatched them out of her hands and placed the two books securely under his left arm; his lips were pressed into a thin line and his brown eyes had an odd tint of red in them.

Ophelia started notice that more about Tom: his eyes and his lips...she started to actually notice he was quite handsome and felt ashamed for that thought.

Handsome yet….Ophelia couldn't think of a word to describe Tom...mean? Handsome and mean?

"So," Tom snapped at her in a low voice, "why weren't you in the compartment?" He saw the obvious look of guilt on the girl's face, "I told you right before you left to see your family." Tom nearly spat the last word out with venom.

"I don't like sitting with your friends," Ophelia retorted trying not to raise her voice; everyone knew the boys who hung out with Tom could make bad things happen to people if they so pleased. The last thing she needed was to be bothered with more Slytherin boys. "They're vulgar, I don't enjoy the way Lestrange looks at me, and I do not enjoy your conversations on muggles being useless, dirty, and weak." Ophelia's green eyes locked onto Tom's deep brown ones-the tint of red around his eyes gone for the moment, "In case you haven't noticed-they're not a good bunch to be around, Riddle...you honestly can't believe they're truly your friends...can you?"

It didn't matter that Ophelia was sincere when she spoke to Tom; he took it as disgusting pity and he didn't need pity from a child of a squib and a muggle.

"What makes you think I care if they're really my friends or not, Darwin." Tom scoffed, looking down at the dejected Hufflepuff female. "They serve a purpose to me, just like you do as well."

A weird, painful, bubbly sensation happened in her body , and made it feel like her gut relocated to the floor. Ophelia knew Tom and her weren't friends...but she thought they were at the very least, strained acquaintances of some kind.

"Right…" Ophelia knew she already displayed the thought or displayed even the feeling that there was something between her and Tom. "My mistake."

My mistake indeed!

In the end, Ophelia ended in Tom Riddle's train compartment with a bunch of Slytherin pure-bloods; as the other boys had their conversation about their boring and horrid families and summer, her and Tom had theirs about the expectancy of the third year.

She felt Lestrange's eyes roam over her body in the middle of explaining to Tom that third years were to study magical creatures. Ophelia tried not pause as she spoke to him, she even tried not to let Lestrange know she felt his gaze, so as subtly as she could, Ophelia drew out her wand in order to charm her skirt to a longer length.

A cold hand placed itself firmly over Ophelia's and forced her wand down to the cushioned seats of the compartment. Tom merely placed a hard and stony glare in Lestrange's direction and with that, the Hufflepuff girl never caught or felt Lestrange's eyes on her for the rest of the school year.

1941-1942

"Due to a terrible fight between Slytherin and Gryffindor houses over a game of Quidditch, we will be switching some of the class combinations for you fourth years. As you can see," Professor Dumbledore stated as he looked carefully at his current transfigurations students "we thought it would be appropriate to pair the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs together for the time being."

Margo nudged Ophelia and indiscreetly point to the table where Tom and his 'gang' members sat; without a doubt Margo's pointed caught Tom and the other's attention. Ophelia kept her eyes glued on Albus Dumbledore intently, she didn't want to look at Tom at all, she knew very well a self-indulgent, smug, over-confident smirk would be painted on his thin lips all plastered his damn perfect and damn handsome face.

Merlin, damn him, she thought as she began to listen to Dumbledore's lecture for the day.

This was the year Ophelia would distance herself from Tom Riddle, the cruel boy who made it clear to her last year, she was just a type of resource of his to use and still tried to use her...and to be honest, he succeeded still.

"Before I continue on with the lesson, could someone correctly show me the wand movement for a switching spell," Dumbledore scanned the room and smiled in Ophelia's direction. Her right hand slowly crept over to grip her wand.

"Miss Blaine," the man with crescent moon spectacles kindly called out, "would you please show us how it's done?"

Wow, Ophelia thought with a small sense of happiness spreading through her body, lucky me.

"I'm sorry sir," Margo whispered quietly, "but I'm not too sure I know that spell." The platinum blonde girl quickly kicked her voice to a higher volume as soon as a good idea popped into her head. "Though, Pipa-uh, I mean, Miss Darwin might know the correct wand movement, sir!"

Margo, no!

Ophelia did her best not to shoot a dirty look at Margo, a couple of rows away she actually heard Peter try to hold back a laugh.

Albus Dumbledore, the main professor of transfiguration only looked at Ophelia and gestured a hand out. A signal that meant he wanted her to try.

She picked up her wand and tried to focus on two random objects in the room, just in case she could get the wand movement right-she wanted to be sure she had something to switch out. Ophelia allowed herself to look over at Tom's direction.

His face was blank; waiting to see if she was even competent over a simple spell...Her green eyes settled on the wand in his hand...maybe she could switch that out with her bottle of ink.

With a careful flick of the wrist and an even more careful pronunciation for the actual spell: much to her surprise-it worked.

Tom's wand was now where her bottle of ink had been, and a full bottle of ink was indeed, in the Slytherin boy's hand as well.

"That was a lovely execution," Dumbledore noted as he lifted his wand up to return the items to their rightful owners. "Five points to Hufflepuff."

Ophelia gazed over to Tom as the members of her house cheered for a quick moment; it was her turn to be smug and arrogant just a split second...Though for a moment, she almost swore Tom looked close to impressed with her as he twirled his wand in a slow motion...a notion she was sure she'd made up in her head.

It was only a simple switching spell, nothing to be impressed by.

1942-1943

"Margo," Ophelia screamed at the top of her lungs as she jumped on her friend's bed, completely excited over the fact that she'd be leaving for summer early.

"You're wrinkling the satin sheets, Pipa," Margo half-heartedly scolded as she ate a chocolate frog; crumbs fell around the Blaine girl as she watched her dear Ophelia finally show any other emotion that wasn't overwhelming stress.

Ophelia's shoulder length brown hair flew wildly in the air as she proceeded to get on her knees and bounce on Margo's pale, pink satin sheets; they wrinkled only slightly , while chocolate crumbs jumbled around the bed.

"I take it then, that your final exams were easy ," Margo asked as soon as the brunette finally laid down on the edge of the bed.

A forced laugh flew from Ophelia's mouth, "No, they were bloody terrible and I hated every second, minute, and hour of those tests! I'm just glad I get to leave an extra week early!"

Her heart and the rest of her body could hardly stop moving so fast. Her Poppa had plans to meet up with some old wizarding buddies of his and this summer would be the first time Ophelia would be able to accompany him for a month long reunion trip.

How Poppa got mother to even agree to let Ophelia spend one month in the wizarding world was beyond her-but at the moment she really didn't care. Or even how Armando Dippet agreed to allow her to take her finals early was something to ponder on...oh well, Ophelia didn't quite care about that either at the moment.

"I hope you know that while you are extremely excited-I still have to take finals, and you've doomed me to study with Peter." Margo huffed, "I don't see why you're so excited to have a month here...I was hoping you'd return home to the muggle world so I could see all the sites with you and meet the King and Queen of England!"

"Well," Ophelia offered, "we could meet up later on in the summer and do that."

Margo only took a big bite out of her chocolate frog, "I can't later, my parents and the rest of the Blaine family will be doing our usual summer round up with Peter's family."

The brunette fifth-year tried to pretend she was deaf to her friend's sulking. "That sounds lovely-."

"It's dull."

Ophelia was far into a good mood to even argue that spending time with the a bunch of relatives and older people with solid poles up their arse might be fun. "Have Peter take you then," She mused to her friend, "pretend to be absolute muggles for a day and keep it a secret for the rest of your lives."

The chocolate frog in Margo's hand fell down to the floor of the girl's dormitory as soon as Ophelia suggested the idea; quickly, the blonde fifth year smoothed out her uniform and robes before her feet rushed off to the Quidditch pitch to hunt down the one and only Peter Elwood.

This year, had been a terrible one for all students in Hogwarts...The only one who seemed in a good mood was Tom. The death of Myrtle Warren..the expulsion of a Gryffindor student...Hogwarts almost shutting down...It had been a very terrible year.

Ophelia could not believe and thank her lucky stars enough at the mere fact that she was still alive in both the worlds she occupied.

By five o'clock in the evening, she'd be in Hogsmeade to meet Poppa and her summer could really start.

Nothing could bother or ruin her mood, not even the Slytherin boy who for one reason or another found one of his resources as he called her, had gone missing later that evening...By the time Tom had found out a certain Hufflepuff would be unavailable for the little remaining days left, he wished he was able to curse her the first day they'd met as children.