a/n I've gone through and re-edited the entirety of this fic just to make the narrative a bit tighter (totally not because it's been so long since I've written it that I forgot what was happening). You definitely don't need to go back and reread to know whats going on, nothing central to the plot was changed. I did add one chapter (4) that's just a short kind of fluffy bit, I changed the time line so that the Harry Potter books were happening in the 2000s as opposed to the 90s to fit with the PJO books. Additionally, I broke up some of the really long chapters for better flow. I'm so sorry for what may have been a spam of emails!

Alexa ran through the castle, an acromantula giving chase. She could hear the chalky grinding of its fangs rubbing together as it scuttled. That was all she could hear over the screaming. Hogwarts was burning, Harry was dead.

She slipped into the shadows, slamming her sword through the face of the spider, the blade sliding right between the fangs. She didn't have time to stop, she couldn't stop. She kept running, her breathing getting more and more ragged as she struggled forward. They were losing, but they hadn't lost-she fell forwards, tumbling and landing hard on her hands, scraping her palms. She could barely breathe, and she turned back to see what had tripped her, and screamed. It was Theo, laying, his torso cleaved open, eyes vacant and staring. She was laying on stone slick with red.

Alexa scrambled to her feet and kept running, the burn of bile rising in her throat. She couldn't breathe, her chest was so tight with fear and her heart pounding like wild horses. She burst through a doorway and into the Great Hall. The figures that surrounded her were no more than shadows, clinging to the walls, shifting like shades, whispering and whispering and whispering.

And in the very center of the room, standing up on the dais, was Tom Riddle, nothing more than a teenager. He spread his hands as she approached, that little conspiratory smile on his face.

"Hello, Alexa," he said, stepping down from the platform, and taking deliberate steps toward her. She wanted to raise her sword but she couldn't. She couldn't move. She was frozen as he got closer and closer.

"I missed you," he continued, "It's been a long time." He was taller, older, his face was getting sharper. Tom stood close in front of her, close enough that if she could just move she could drive her sword straight through his gut.

Behind her came a strange sound, dry, rasping, like something being dragged across the stone. The basilisk. She could feel it, she could see it from above, the great green beast coiling, winding around to fit within the Great Hall, just behind her.

It's tongue flicked beside her ear, its cool breath blowing at her hair.

"Wherever you go," he mused, taking her face in his hands, "I will be."

Her limbs were released by whatever invisible force had held them, and she jammed the sword up, piercing through his stomach, up through his lungs, in so deep she could see it protruding from his back.

Tom laughed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him, forcing the blade deeper through his body. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, staining his teeth as he grinned.

"Little godling," his breath was hot against her ear, "You're not where you belong."

And then all she saw were a pair of big, yellow eyes.

Alexa jerked upright, reaching out, scrambling for her wand, out of breath and drenched in sweat.

She was in her dorm. Just in her dorm. She drew her knees to her chest and pressed her face down, trying to calm herself. She stifled breathless sobs, pressing her hand over her mouth, trying to get the images out of her mind. Alexa forced herself to take deep, slow breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth.

She wasn't sure how long she sat like that, but when she checked her watch it was four in the morning, and she was certain she wasn't going back to sleep. Happy birthday, she thought grimly to herself, have a nightmare. Alexa kicked off the blankets, and as silently as possible she shoved clothes into her school bag-her uniform and a set of exercise shorts and t-shirt. She was going to the Room, which was more than happy to build itself into the track and weight sets she wanted.

By six am she was done, muscles aching, panting, but finally feeling calm. She needed to do this more often, she realized. The lack of activity was making things worse in her head. She grabbed her bag and went through the door that had just appeared. She peeled off her soaked clothes and stepped into the lukewarm shower. Her hands stung under the water, she'd lost some calluses from going so long without lifting weights or swinging her sword, and now there were faint blisters across her palms. She was going to be very sore later, she was sure.

She stepped out, wrapping herself with one of the provided towels and wiped the mirror free of steam. She paused at her reflection. The bags under her eyes were dark. She looked tired. With her hair, limp and wet, her face was even more severe. She sighed, drying and brushing it out with her wand. Standing there, bare before the mirror, she couldn't begin to count the scars covering her skin.

Alexa gripped the basin of the sink, closing her eyes tight. She didn't know how she had gotten away with fitting in so far. She felt like she was moving faster than everyone around her. The days were blending into one another, drudging forward in a world that she did not belong to. She had fantasized about this. Coming back into the time she was born in-but she'd never been alone in those dreams. This was...awful. There was no other way to put it. She couldn't trust anyone. She couldn't ever let her guard down. Already, Tom had begun to terrorize the school with the monster. Every inch of her yearned to take the beast on now, to go right to the chamber and kill it where it lay-but she had to be patient. She had to wait, knowing that the basilisk and his heritage were all Tom was focusing on. As long as he had that, he wasn't going to be out killing his family. Once she took care of the snake, however, things were going to get more difficult. She had to stay his friend, she needed him to trust her enough to...what, share his search for his family? Let her help? It was absurd.

For the rest of her life, all she would do was follow Tom Riddle's every step.

Alexa straightened and opened her eyes. That was the decision she made. She was a soldier with orders, she would follow through. She cast a glamour over her tattoos, and over the Latin cut into her hand. Everytime she did, she couldn't help the fond memories of Umbridge's outrage when she discovered Alexa obeyed her in doing lines, but had changed the words. Acta non Verba. Deeds not words.

She pinned her hair half up, the rest curling around her shoulders. She put on her uniform. She dabbed foundation on her face, hiding the worst of the dark circles, and went on her way. It was seven, and people would just be beginning to get up. She pulled the shadows around her as she approached the entrance to the common room, invisible to any onlooker. However, there was nobody in the common room, nor in the stairwells yet, so she slipped through the darkness to her favorite sofa, and pulled The Aeneid from her bag, curling up to read until the rest of her friends were down.

"G'morning Alexa."

She didn't have to wait long. Tom sat next to her on the couch, and her grip on the book became white knuckled.

"Good morning," she replied, yawning. She closed the book, smoothing the cover where she had creased it.

"How the hell did you do that?" Amelia asked, coming down the stairs, "I thought you weren't even up yet!"

Alexa laughed, "I just woke up pretty early today."

"Did you even sleep?" Amelia grumbled, sitting between Alexa and Tom. Abraxas came next, while Alphard stumbled down the stairs exactly at 7:30, right when breakfast started. Abraxas grumbled about being late as they made their way to the Great Hall, and Alexa shoved any thoughts of her dream far, far away.

She was sat between Tom and Alphard, quite contentedly eating her breakfast, when a barn owl crash-landed in front of her, sending her juice flying.

"What the hell-?" she jumped up, throwing down her napkin to mop up the spill.

"You've got mail," Alphard commented, cleaning up the rest with a flick of his wand. She looked down at the owl, and sure enough, her name was written attop the envelope. The owl clicked it's beak at her, clearly impatient with her lack of understanding.

"Oh," she murmured, quickly untying the letter. She gave the bird a bit of toast and it took off back through the windows. She didn't recognize the handwriting. It wasn't Dumbledore's and since everyone else she knew within a fifty year radius was sitting in the same room as her, she couldn't fathom who it might be from. She resisted the urge to rip it open immediately, and opted instead for quickly finishing breakfast.

"I'll see you in class," she said, rising, "I forgot I wanted to grab something from the library."

"See you there," Alphard replied, waving.

She ripped open the letter as soon as she was out of sight, tearing the parchment in an effort to pry off the unmarked wax seal.

Hello Alexa! This is not a birthday card whatsoever. This is just a card to say that I'm very glad you ended up at Hogwarts and in Slytherin, and that even though the rest of these gits don't know how to express it, they are just as glad as I am. I hope we've made you feel welcome. I'm sorry for being insensitive about this earlier. Have a good day, for no particular reason at all.

Best Wishes,

Alphard Regulus Black

Her breath caught in her throat, and she had to blink back tears as she held the letter to her chest. There was a whole swirl of emotions in her head, but above all she felt warm. Alphard was kind, he cared about the people around him. She was beyond touched that he had taken the time to do this. She would have to thank him later.

Potions was the last class of the day, and as had become the norm, Alexa and Tom sat together as they worked through their potions.

"Careful," Tom cautioned, "it says two adder tongues, not three."

"Oops," she said, quickly fishing it out of her cauldron with her ladle, "Thanks."

Tom nodded, focused on his own textbook, carefully reading each instruction.

"Looking excellent m'boy!" Slughorn boomed, looking over their shoulders. Tom jumped but quickly recovered.

"Thank you, sir," he said politely.

"And Miss di Angelo, you've got some very handy knife work there, I don't think I've ever seen dandelion root so perfectly cut."

"Thank you, sir," she smiled.

"They are very even," Tom commented, as Slughorn made his way back around the room.

"I know my way around a knife," she chuckled, "Do you think there's going to be any fire today?" Alexa asked, adding the root and stirring clockwise three times and counter clockwise four. Her potion was not quite the perfect shade of mauve that his was, but she was rather proud of herself.

Tom glanced across the aisle where Hadrian Potter was sitting. His potion was green and he was so involved in his flirting with the girl next to him he'd failed to notice his sleeve was beginning to smoke. Fortunately the girl pointed it out for him and he was able to pat it out.

"We can only hope Shrinivas will keep him in line today," he sighed.

Which was when the potion began to foam. Both Potter and Aazra Shrinivas leapt back, with Potter heroically putting himself in front of her. Which did nothing for the rest of the class, but was cute at least. Pale vermilion foam so fine it could have been powdered was flowing, dripping down onto the table which began to sizzle beneath it. It began to emit a great billowing tower of red smoke, sparks flying from the top popping with the sound of firecrackers.

"Everyone out!" Slughorn holared, waving his wand to no avail. The students stampeded from the room, and Alexa was about to follow when she realized Tom wasn't moving. He stood, back pressed against the wall, hands clamped over his ears, eyes squeezed shut.

Smoke had now filled the room, thick and smelling of gasoline, creating an impenetrable wall between them and the door. She didn't want to know what would happen to them if they touched it.

"Tom," she turned to him, grabbing his shoulders, "Look at me." He opened his eyes, but they were wide and unfocused. She was going to have to get him out of there. Meanwhile the cauldron was only getting louder, shaking so hard she was worried it would fall from the table. The cauldron had begun to glow from the heat within it. The foam had gone from a pale blush to a blood red, and was spreading closer, melting the bottoms of table legs and stools as it crept towards them. It had already cut off any point of escape-Alexa knew she could make it jumping from tabletop to tabletop, but Tom sure as hell couldn't.

Her heart was racing. There wasn't a way out. The smoke kept filling the room moving closer and closer to them, a nearly solid mass. The foam was pinning them now between the wall and two desks. Alexa was out of options. She felt out to the hallway-it was empty. Slughorn must have sent the students off and gone to fine help.

She wrapped her arm around Tom and pulled him against her, and pulled them both through the shadows and out of the classroom.

When they emerged Alexa was prepared to take the brunt of his weight, which was fortunate because he staggered like a drunk. The door was shut, and the sea of red had not crept to the wood yet.

"Just breathe," she soothed, "We should probably get farther away." It was still cacophanus in the hallway, like gunshots echoing.

"What-how-?" Tom gasped, gripping her tightly.

"Good lord!" Slughorn rounded the corner, sweaty and out of breath, the entire class jogging behind him like a herd of elephants. "We didn't realize-you were still in there!" he puffed, eyes wide, "Are you alright?"

"I think the fumes got to him, I'm going to take him up to the hospital wing," she told her professor.

Slughorn looked aghast, "Yes, yes, very good," he turned back to the other fifth years, "Did somebody go and fetch Dippet?"

They all looked between each other and Slughorn groaned.

Alexa stifled her irritation, and simply watched as they all ran back down the corridor.

"C'mon," she said, leading him away until they could no longer hear the explosion. Tom was breathing too fast, and he was too warm against her.

"Can I sit down a moment?" he ground out, teeth grit.

"Yeah," she murmured, helping him sit and plopping down beside him. He took a deep breath and sat forward, head in his hands. Alexa reached out and put her hand on his back, rubbing small circles. Tom didn't move away, just forced himself to take slow, even breaths.

"How did we get out?" he asked, finally. He hadn't sat up but Alexa realized he had scooted closer to her.

"Around the edge-the smoke was thick, it was hard to see," she replied. He was silent and her heart thudded hard in her chest. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down. Alexa prayed to whichever god might be listening that he didn't realize anything else, didn't ask about anything else.

"Thanks," he said finally, "I'm sure I was useless."

"You're actually surprisingly light," she smiled, "Don't worry about it."

He sighed, and leaned back against the wall, looking up and closing his eyes. "Did anyone else-?"

"Notice? Nah, I said it was the fumes. Speaking of which, do you actually want to go to the hospital wing?"

"No," he shook his head, but he didn't stand up. "I would appreciate it," he said after a moment, "if you didn't mention this to anyone."

"Don't worry about it," she gestured vaguely.

"Are you hurt?" Tom asked suddenly, as if the thought had just occurred to him, looking at her with concern.

"I'm fine," she assured him. He seemed to have forgotten how they got out-hopefully chalking it up to his reaction. That was fine for her.

"I'm...sorry," he looked straight ahead, brows pushed together, "You could have gotten hurt, you should have just left me-"

"No," she cut him off, surprised at the words tumbling out of his mouth. She reached over and gripped his arm, "I wasn't going to leave you. And now we're both fine."

Tom pushed himself to his feet, and held out his hand to help her. She took it, letting him pull her up.

"I think I'm going to skip dinner," he said quietly, "and just go to the common room. I don't care to be with that many people presently."

"Do you want me to bring you something later?" she asked. Concern, genuine concern, bubbled up in her chest. She shouldn't be this worried about him. It was just because he may take the time to release the basilisk. That was it.

"No, I'm alright," he replied. "But if you have time later, there was a passage in Latin I couldn't figure out."

"Yeah, we can wait until the common room is empty if you want." Alexa was realizing she was far too worried about Tom Riddle's emotional wellbeing than she had any business being. It was unsettling. By that point they had reached the entrance of the common room, and were stood awkwardly in front of it.

"That would be...nice," he said, glancing down at his shoes, "You must think I'm-"

"You know how jumpy I am," she cut him off, "I get it. You're from London, aren't you?"

Tom rubbed his hand over his face. She'd never seen him look less put together. His cheeks were red and his hair was a mess.

"Thank you," he said again, and gave her a tired smile, "I'll see you later?"

"Yes," she said, "I'll see you tonight." They parted ways and she checked her watch. It was just time for dinner.

Alexa was curled up on the sofa in front of the fire, reading The Aeneid. Dido, she concluded, as she did every time she read the story, deserved better.

"You coming to bed?" Amelia asked her, closing her own book and stretching.

"Nah, not yet," Alexa replied, "You go on up."

"G'night," Amelia shrugged, yawning. Alexa waved and yawned herself. She was tired. Hopefully the passage wouldn't take too long, although she was glad of an excuse to check in with Tom again. She was just starting to doze off when a soft voice called her name.

She jumped awake, "Sorry," she said, rubbing her eyes.

Tom had sad down next to her looking like he was trying hard not to smile. It took her a moment to process, and she just stared blankly at him. He was holding a plate of cookies. Ginger snaps, she thought. She looked at the cookies and back at Tom.

"I just figured," he began, offering her the plate, "it was suitable for today."

Alexa let out a breathy laugh, "You...Tom-Thank you." She took a cookie and looked away, quickly wiping her eyes, "Sorry," she murmured, giving him a smile before taking a bite. They were ginger snaps, which happened to be one of her favorites.

"Are you alright?" he asked, setting the plate down and leaning closer.

"Yes,"she shook her head, "I just didn't expect it. Thank you, Tom. This means more than I can say."

You're welcome," he grinned, taking a cookie for himself.

They sat in comfortable silence. That was one of the nicer things about Tom-he was as comfortable in silence as she was. She glanced at him, watching the way the flickering fire made shadows dance on his face. She felt content for the first time since she had come to the past.

"There wasn't a passage, was there?" she asked, remembering it suddenly.

Tom may have been blushing, but it was impossible to be certain in the firelight. He just looked at her with a crooked grin. "Are you disappointed?" he asked.

"Definitely not," she assured him, "This is better."

"I was hoping so," he relaxed back into the couch, nibbling on his cookie. She mirrored him. She'd never expected Tom Riddle to be kind. It scared her more than if he had been cruel. She'd expected cruelty. He could be cold, she had seen it. She knew of his disdain for muggles, and surprisingly of purebloods. But he was still a very real, very complex person who seemed to genuinely like her and care about her. She could just sit there and relax, and just let herself be cared about. After all, if he was with her then he wasn't off in the chamber, there was a practical benefit. She'd been so worried about him in potions. She hadn't thought twice about comforting him afterwards. She had been disgusted by even being near him when she'd gotten to the past.

She hated it. She couldn't help the self loathing that bubbled up in the pit of her stomach, reminding her that he was far more than what he appeared. She could have tonight. She could just sit with him and appreciate that he cared enough about her-that he listened when she spoke and remembered-to do this. If it was an effort to manipulate her she didn't care. It felt real enough.

And then there was Alphard. She had people who considered herself a friend. She was going to be in this time for the rest of her life. She had to have some kind of life or else she wasn't going to be able to take it.

So she smiled at him and ate another cookie. He remarked on her choice of reading and after a few questions she told him the story of the golden apple and the wedding of Thetis and Peleus.