((A.N. Here is Chapter 4, which just barely made it on to here in time, by the way. I've been busy. Too busy. Anyhow, here it is. I love my reviewers, you are all wonderful and supportive. Thank you to Princess of Slytherin, Ramones3me, Black-rose23, Loriliant Angelisa Snape (What! Did you post the one shot?), sexy-jess, Magic and Sparkle, Lyn, EuphoniumGurl10, BrennaM, elisabeth, adriana, and blue ice2. Well, enjoy the chapter, and... !waits by inbox! review! And thanks to DramaShethan lots!))

How can you see into my eyes, like open doors?

Leading you down into my core

Where I've become so numb.

Without a soul, my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold

Until you find it there, and lead it back home.

–Evanescence

Chapter 4– Late Night Suspicions

The days passed, and Hermione worked hard to keep up her facade as 'Helen'. She was dully agreeable, and all of the Gryffindors got along well with her. Meanwhile, she searched for a way to go forward in time, but with no luck. There was nothing that suggested forward time travel was even possible.

She was surprised to see that she had almost all of her classes with Tom. He was the top of every class, and the Professors adored him. The workload was huge, but Hermione forced herself to earn average marks. It was strange how much it hurt to hold herself back in classes. Learning had always been something she had loved, and now she had to act like an average student.

Her next move came a few weeks later in Potions class. She had still been assigned to work with Tom, though they never said anything to each other. Potions was the only class she ever tried hard in, since it would not look suspicious if she did well with Tom as her partner. She had become so good at being 'Helen', however, that as they were beginning to brew on Friday, Hermione scratched her head, feigning confusion.

"I really don't understand this Reviving Drought. It's much too complicated for Seventh Year. Honestly, what are 'worm antennae?' I'm really confused."

Tom looked up from stirring his potion. His midnight eyes met hers, but they were impenetrable, as always.

"You're a good actress," he said coldly. Hermione's stomach clenched painfully. How did he know? He could not possibly have discovered that she had come from the future. She decided to play stupid.

"Not really. I tried Drama in my Muggle school, and I'm quite prone to stage fright," she said blankly.

"I'm not dense, you know," he continued, as if she had not said anything. "And neither are you. I've watched you brew these potions, and I can see that you're one of the most intelligent witches here. You hide it very well in our other classes, though, and all of your thickheaded Gryffindor friends believe it, too. What are you trying so hard to hide?"

Hermione's brain became nearly incoherent with panic. If he told anyone else what he had noticed, her entire cover would be blown. She desperately searched for something to say.

"I don't like to flaunt my intelligence," she murmured silkily, pretending to jot something down in her notes. Even Hermione was surprised at what a wonderful actress time had made her.

"You downright try to hide it, though. Anyone half intelligent can see that what you're doing is all an act," Tom insisted.

"And what you're doing isn't?" Hermione retorted quietly. It was all she could think of to distract him from herself. Gaining confidence, she continued, "sure, you're witty and charming to everyone around you, but is that how you really are?" Her voice took on a nasty edge as she said, "on the inside, you have no idea what you want to be. You're terrible. I can see right through you, too. Everyone can."

Her distraction ploy turned into something much more as she noticed his expression. His calm face had shattered, and Hermione realized that she had hit the nail on the head.

"You don't know anything about me," Tom said, his voice calmer than ever. He composed his face and turned back to the potion.

"I know enough to–"

"Don't talk to me," he whispered in a deadly tone. She had never seen so much emotion from him. In fact, she realized it was the first time that his face had ever looked vulnerable.

"Outstanding, as always! But what else would I expect from my star student?" Professor Alonzin commented as he graded their Reviving Drought.

"Nothing less, sir," Tom said earnestly.

Right then, Hermione decided that they were both outstanding actors.

"On the inside, you have no idea what you want to be. You're terrible. I can see right through you. Everyone can."

The words rang through Tom's head as he walked to Transfiguration. Obviously, they were not true, but why did they bother him so much? Perhaps it was because all his life, he had worked to be not nothing. He had been so preoccupied with being not nothing that he hadn't had time to be something.

How can this be? I'm Head Boy, top of my class, and Seeker on my House Quidditch team. Of course I'm something.

It never occurred to him that perhaps it was the emptiness on the inside that accounted for the nothing he felt.

He rapped on Dumbledore's office door, and Dumbledore opened it promptly.

"Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore intoned in greeting. Tom stepped into Dumbledore's office, wondering if this was the day he would finally match Dumbledore in Transfiguration.

"May I acquire as to how the rest of your classes are going, Mr. Riddle?Prepared for N.E.W.T.s, I presume?"

"I'm confident that I'll do well. My other classes are going fine," Tom said blankly. He looked Dumbledore in the eye, and found it hard not to flinch. Dumbledore made Tom feel as if he was made of glass, transparent and fragile.

Dumbledore folded his hands calmly in his lap as he sat down behind the desk. Tom remained standing, since he had not been offered a seat. One slip-upon Tom's part would lose him the game of wits they seemed to play.

"Glad to hear it," Dumbledore said quietly. "Have you met the new student at our school, Helen Nestowe?"

Immediate alarms went off in Tom's head. Had Dumbledore noticed her strange behavior also? If anyone had, it would have been Dumbledore.

"I've seen her around," Tom said neutrally.

"Quite brilliant, don't you agree? Almost as gifted as you, I'd guess," the older wizard said in a hinting tone. Tom decided that he obviously wanted information on this Helen.

"She's quite bland, really. Doesn't earn outstanding marks, but isn't too bad ethier," Tom answered, making a resolution to find out more about Helen. Not that he would tell Dumbledore what he knew. If Dumbledore was interested in her, though, she was obviously someone important. Perhaps her identity could be used to his political advantage.

"That is how it would appear, isn't it?" Dumbledore said quickly. "But then again, I suppose you only take things for their face value, Mr. Riddle."

As he had done many times before, Dumbledore was trying to get a rise out of Tom. Dumbledore should've known better.

"And I suppose you take everything I say for face value, Sir?" Tom sneered.

"Not at all, Mr. Riddle."

"Then you are much more intelligent than I had formerly believed," Tom shot back seamlessly.

This was just another of their constant power struggles, and Dumbledore merely quirked an eyebrow at him.

"With that said, let us begin our lesson."

Hermione jumped as she felt a rough hand on her shoulder.

"Ms. Nestowe, it is far past closing time in the library. I found you back here, asleep on your books! Go back to your dormitory and get to sleep," Madame Rostam said sternly as Hermione's head popped up.

Hermione looked blearily at the page she had been reading.

Nicolas Flamel, in his 566 years of living, dedicated a great deal of his life to the study of time. In fact, in his later years he wrote many theoretical essays that pertained to time and its essence. He claimed that if time could be rewound, it could also be fast-forwarded, though modern wizards have yet to achieve this. He also claims that though time can be rewound and sped up, there is ultimately no way of changing...

"Ms. Nestowe, now!" Madame Rostam shrieked, snatching the book away from Hermione. She ground her teeth in frustration.

Though Hermione was annoyed and exhausted, she was excited about what she had been reading. Perhaps there was a way to go forward in time. Since she was in the past, it was doubtlessly easier to travel forward to the future. She made a resolution to continue reading about this subject when she was more rested. For now, she needed some sleep.

Hermione checked her wristwatch and found that it was past midnight. She slunk out of the library and into the shadowy halls, shivering at the darkness that enveloped her. Hermione made her way swiftly down the corridors, making no noise, and not bothering to light her wand.

A shadowy figure stepped around the corner directly ahead of her. She gasped in surprise, and light illuminated the scene instantly. Tom Riddle's face came into focus, his expression blank and cold, as always. Hermione gasped again, wondering if she ought to run or pull our her own wand.

"Helen Nestowe, I believe? What could you possibly be up to, wandering the corridors in the middle of the night? With no light, I might add," Tom asked blatantly. He lowered his wand so that his face was partly shrouded in darkness.

Hermione's mind raced frantically. She could not tell why he was asking, because his tone of voice was as blank as his expression. Was their run in a coincidence?

"I might ask the same of you," Hermione said with a bit of indignance. She could not completely disguise the shake in her voice, hard as she tried. Alone in the dark with Lord Voldemort was not a place Hermione had ever wanted to be.

Tom gave her a calculating look.

"Perhaps it has alluded your notice that I do, in fact, hold the position of Head Boy. It is my job to patrol the corridors for students out of bed. Students such as yourself," Tom said carefully, his smooth face giving away nothing.

Hermione flushed. Head Boy! Of course he has to be Head Boy! Why wouldn't Lord Voldemort be Head Boy? First she cursed her dismal luck, then Dippet's woefully deluded judge of character.

Hermione could not tell him that she had been at the library researching time travel. She would have to act, once again, and hope that he bought it. Doubtful, but worth a try.

"I was doing some late night studying at the library, and to tell you the truth, I got a bit turned around on my way back. This castle's huge, and I've only been here for a month or so. I got a little lost, is all," she finished, pretending to look ashamed. Tom crossed his arms.

"I take it you need me to escort you to the Gryffindor common room, then?"

Once again, Hermione cursed inwardly. All she wanted to do was get away from him, but she had dug herself a wonderful hole from which she could not escape.

"That would be very helpful of you," Hermione said graciously, through painfully gritted teeth.

"It's my job," Tom said again, as if having to justify that he wasn't voluntarily helping her. He began to walk her down the path that Hermione could have walked blindfolded. As they neared the Gryffindor portrait hole, Tom spoke.

"As punishment for being out of bed, I could just take 30 points away from Gryffindor, which I assure you, I would enjoy very much. Or, you could do something else for me."

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks as the sentence hung in the air. "You pervert! If you really think I am going to–"

Tom silenced her with the raise of an eyebrow. "Tell me something, rather," he amended, his mouth twitching into a sly grin. Hermione flushed, feeling like an idiot for the second time that night.

"Who are you, really?" Tom continued. "Why are you here?"

"I told you," she said immediately. " I came from Germany with my family–"

"Not that story. Tell me the real one," Tom insisted. His dark eyes seemed intense in the dim light, and Hermione found herself hypnotized by them.

This is all wrong! What if he finds out I'm from the future? Everything will be ruined!

Hermione looked up at him, and into his eyes, searching for any hint of emotion. She found none.

"It'll be 30 points from Gryffindor, then," Hermione said icily. She hoped that her face mirrored his as she turned away. If she would have looked back, Hermione would have seen Tom standing there, staring after her until she faded into the darkness.

((A.N. So... the plot thickens. How is Hermione going to get back to the future? And have I mentioned that the quotes at the beginning of each chapter are extremely important to the plot!hint hint!Review!))