Author's Notes: Big thanks to my reviewers, LavenderBrown77, blueforest, and Wren. And they meet at last in this chapter – officially!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe; JK Rowling does.

Chapter 7

Birth of a Strategy

As the first term wore on, Honora was increasingly glad for the extra tutelage Julius Talbot had given her back in Polaris. Honora was towards the top of all of her classes. This was evidenced in November, when Professor Slughorn detained her after Potions class.

'Dear, dear Miss Crowley,' he said, resting his hands on his protuberant belly as he relaxed in his chair. 'You are of the Aleister Crowley line, are you not?'

Honora nodded.

'Good, good. And quite a hand at Potions! Albus Dumbledore tells me you are just as brilliant in his Transfiguration class.'

'I, um…' Honora looked at her feet. She was exceedingly proud of herself for her marks, but she made sure to keep a humble appearance in front of her professors. 'Thank you,' she finally said.

'I'm having a little get-together of some of my finest and most promising students on Friday evening. Dinner, drinks, good conversation…I do hope you can make it.'

'I would be delighted, Professor Slughorn!' Honora raised her eyes and gave him a dazzling smile.

'Excellent! My quarters at seven on Friday evening, then. I believe your Ravenclaw friend Damaris is coming, as well. Good family, the Turpins, her uncle Vasily is high up in the Ministry…' Slughorn said.

'I'll see you on Friday, then, Professor,' Honora said, making her exit with a slight curtsy. She did not mean to curtsy, but Slughorn seemed to make it appropriate.

Later, Honora asked Damaris about Slughorn's dinner party.

'Oh, yes, the Slug Club. I was wondering when he was going to get around to inviting you. He surrounds himself with anyone who has potential…magic, or social climbing, or both,' Damaris laughed. 'And you're beautiful, as well. It's no wonder.'

'I see,' said Honora. 'What am I supposed to wear, then?'

'I usually dress to impress on those occasions. Not because it's required, but it makes my Potions grade go up. Slughorn likes to feel that he's surrounded by important and elegant people. Quite entertaining, and if you just flatter his ego a little bit, he can make life easier for you. The dinners are fun, actually.'

'Good,' Honora said, 'we can show up together!'

Friday evening rolled around, and Honora set her dark red hair in flattering waves and put on some makeup for the Slug Club. She loved getting dressed up, and she and Damaris danced around their dormitory room getting ready. Kay rolled her eyes at them as she worked on a Herbology essay. It was so refreshing to have new clothes, and Honora was getting into the fashions of the 1940s. She wore one of her only nice garments, a dark blue dress with small light blue polka dots and a matching belt, and pearl earrings. She touched her family tree locket for luck as she put on her pearls; they reminded her of her grandmother.

Slughorn's quarters were decorated like a tent, with blue and green and silver panels and a rather garish gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Honora and Damaris walked in, laughing, and gave sly little waves to the people at the table they already knew. There was Nestor Nicodemus, the Hufflepuff whose father was the Greek Minister of Magic, and a friendly Gryffindor girl named Portia Whimsey.

Honora's eyes flicked over the room and she saw Tom Riddle standing in a corner with two other Slytherin boys. The skinny one with the hooked nose was called Avery, she knew; the other she was not sure of. Honora noticed that Riddle was wearing a large, rather clunky gold ring with a black stone in it. He stood with serene confidence, intimidating and authoritative.

Squaring her shoulders, Honora vowed to take this room by storm. 'Professor Slughorn!' she said with the smile still on her face. 'Damaris and I have arrived.'

'Miss Crowley and Miss Turpin, what a pleasure. You both look high and mighty indeed…boys, you'd better watch out for these two!' Slughorn chuckled at himself and gestured for them to sit down. 'Now as soon as Miss True and Mr. Herrera arrive, we can begin.'

As he said the words, the door opened again and two more students walked in.

'Brilliant! Shall we sit?' Slughorn gestured to the long table.

Honora sat down and was disconcerted to find herself directly across from Tom Riddle. I will NOT be afraid, I will NOT be afraid, she told herself sternly. It was hard to remember that Riddle had not made the transformation to Lord Voldemort quite yet, although from the sounds of it he was getting close. Honora raised her eyes to squarely meet Riddle's.

Close up, she saw that his eyes were a deep blue colour, so dark they were nearly purple. They were expressionless. Instead of glaring, Honora made herself smile innocently at him. To her surprise, Riddle smiled back. It would have been charming had the smile reached his eyes.

'Honora Crowley,' Riddle said, inclining his head in acknowledgment of her.

'And you are…?' Honora raised her eyebrows haughtily, pretending to be ignorant of his identity.

'Tom Riddle,' he replied, in a conversational voice as smooth as silk. 'It's nice to meet you. I hope you're finding Hogwarts enjoyable.'

His overwhelming politeness made Honora feel boorish at her reaction to him. 'Yes,' she said with a blush, forcing her mouth into a courteous smile. 'It's been wonderful so far. Thank you for your concern.'

Riddle nodded at her, apparently finished with the pleasantries, and turned away toward his Slytherin pal on his left.

Slughorn began the dinner with a long-winded toast. The various courses were delightful, as was the conversation. At least half of the Slug Club was there because of their academic prowess. The other half, who merely had familial connections, usually had good chat, at least. The talk turned to cutting-edge magical theories. Nestor Nicodemus mentioned that his father had spoken of new theories of Divination coming about after the re-discovery of the Oracle of Delphi.

'I should have a chat with Kaige about it,' Nestor said, referring to the Divination teacher.

'Personally, I find Divination a bore,' said Avery the Slytherin. Honora did not like his manner. 'Who can tell the future, anyway?'

'Perhaps the future is only a probability,' said Honora, deciding to speak up and add to the discussion. 'There may be a strong chance that something will happen, but only if someone does not actively change it.'

'Interesting,' Portia Whimsey said. 'Free will or fate? I believe in free will.'

'And the rest of you?' Slughorn said, following the conversation with beady eyes darting around. 'Tom, what do you think?'

'The best wizard makes his own fate,' Tom Riddle said.

'Oh, but interference can come in the most unexpected ways,' Honora said boldly. Laughter bubbled behind her eyes. 'Sometimes a wizard does something with a certain intention, but it all goes wrong.'

Riddle raised one sceptical eyebrow at her. 'Such as?' he said.

Honora realised she had no idea what she was talking about. Speaking too soon…trying to get attention again, she mentally scolded herself. 'Such as…' she paused awkwardly. Not knowing what else to do, she made something up. 'My grandmother told me a story of a very powerful Egyptian wizard long ago. He attempted a spell that would guarantee his own invincibility.' Honora levelled her gaze on Riddle. 'And the spell went…horribly awry.'

'Awry how?' Riddle asked calmly. She could tell his interest was piqued. Fortunately Honora was good at make-believe stories.

'He charmed a crystal, which he put on an un-removable gold necklace. When he wore the necklace, no one could touch him, or harm him in any way. It made him essentially immortal to danger,' Honora said. She had been told a fairy tale story like this as a child; not a word of it was true, but that did not matter, as long as she could make her point.

'Then, something happened he did not count on. He was on a wizard's ship, sailing from Egypt to Rome, and got into a duel. In the course of the duel, he lost his wand, went overboard, and sank to the bottom of an undersea chasm, due to the heavy weight of the crystal. However, because of the necklace, he could not drown…but without his wand, he had no way to reach the surface again. He remains there, bored, alone, and lost forever, in the deep cold.' Honora finished her story with a sip of wine. 'And that, Tom Riddle, was unexpected.'

Riddle stared at her with narrowed eyes, looking slightly taken aback. The rest of the table was silent until Slughorn broke in.

'Well, what an extraordinary story, Miss Crowley! A lesson to all of us, shall we say? Now, Miss Whimsey, was that fate or free will for that poor Egyptian wizard?'

'It was his free will to try to be invincible,' said Portia. 'So it was his fault!'

The debate continued into the night, but Riddle did not say anything more.

That night, as Honora was getting ready for bed, she reflected on Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort. Things were not going very well; she hardly knew him at all. She still did not know how far along he had come in turning truly evil. He had already opened the Chamber of Secrets. And, according to McGonagall's book, Tom had already killed his father and grandparents that past summer. He was a murderer. But had he split his soul into pieces yet?

Also according to the book, the large black-and-gold ring Riddle wore had belonged to his mother's family. He had stolen it off his uncle, Morfin Gaunt, at the same time he killed his relatives. The worst case scenario was that he already had made Horcruxes out of both his diary and Slytherin's ring. The best case scenario was that he was a mere triple-murderer and thief, but had not yet housed his soul in inanimate objects.

Honora sighed. There had to be a way to kill Tom Riddle and come out of it smelling like a rose. The problem was, Honora was not sure she was capable of producing a Killing Curse. There was always poison, but that was near impossible at Hogwarts. Everyone ate in the Great Hall. Besides, Riddle probably has one of his little Slytherins taste his food for him. She knew for a fact Riddle would not be so stupid as to consume an anonymous gift of food without testing it first. Maybe if she was Head Girl, she would have better access. But then I might be the only person with an opportunity to murder him. I would be an automatic suspect.

As it was, Honora was merely the 'new girl'; everyone knew her name, but she had not yet distinguished herself as outstanding. It was all very perplexing, and one thing was for certain: Honora needed to get closer to Riddle, and to do that, she needed to be Head Girl.

Honora fell asleep quickly the night after the Slug Club, with her mind overworked and anxious. The next morning in Transfiguration, she was absentmindedly turning a yellow canary into a pumpkin and back again when a brilliant idea hit her. A do-good, get-attention-for-herself, leadership and initiative brilliant idea. She felt as though a spontaneous torch had flared on inside her mind, solving her problems.

'Kay. Damaris.' She turned to her friends. 'I have a genius plan.'

Damaris laughed at her, brown eyes twinkling. 'And what is that?'

'We have to hear it to believe it,' Kay added.

'What would you think about a wizard's charity ball? All benefits to a scholarship fund for wizard orphans. We could have dancing, and an auction, and all kinds of things!' Honora whispered frantically, her eyes flashing with excitement. It was contagious.

Damaris and Kay lit up. 'A ball! What a good idea!' Damaris whispered back.

'And for orphans,' Kay said, 'like yourself.'

'Let's talk about it at lunchtime, then! Before Dumbledore takes points,' said Damaris. Honora nodded in agreement. Professor Dumbledore was always nice and helpful to her, even if he did favour the Gryffindors a bit. However, he took points from people who did not pay attention.

Honora sat back, smiling to herself with satisfaction. This was it. She would be famously popular at Hogwarts if she could pull off a fabulous social event. And the professors would be eating out of her hand if she made it a charity function. At lunch, Honora explained her idea in more detail to a rapt group of Ravenclaws. As she spoke, she got clearer in her own mind as to what she wanted; Honora was a verbal person and talking things out always helped.

'So. I suggest we hold the ball at the beginning of next term…say, Valentine's Day!' Excited nods all around. 'Let's see…what should we call it…' The other Ravenclaws stared at Honora. It was as though the gears whirring in her head were visible. 'How about the Salvation Ball?'

'That's good,' said Kay.

'And…OH!' Honora exclaimed loudly. 'Since it's on Valentines…we can have the girls ask the boys as dates! Reverse, like!'

'YES!' Lawrence and Ash said at once. The boys seemed much more enthusiastic all of a sudden.

'We could decorate using red poppies,' Kay suggested, 'like Remembrance Day, from the First World War.' Others looked at her blankly. 'Muggle war, everyone.'

'Oh!' collectively.

'Poppies are good,' Damaris agreed. 'They're one of my favourite flowers.'

Honora grinned. 'Right. I'm going to Dippet as soon as possible, and try to set up a meeting for the prefects.'

Headmaster Dippet was easy to convince. Honora appeared at his office with her over-prepared proposal, ready to say all kinds of things to convince Dippet of its merits. However, once she got into his large, bland office, Dippet had merely listened for a moment.

'Very well, Miss Crowley, it sounds fine and good. I put you in charge. Have anyone you want for the committee, and be sure to send me a permission form for the Great Hall at least a month before the event.' He had waved her off with one pudgy hand, saying he had many important things to attend to. Honora suspected he just did not want to be too bothered, which was fine by her.

Damaris suggested that Honora start by presenting her idea for the dance at the next prefect's meeting. After speaking with the Head Boy, Court Aiken (a Ravenclaw, naturally), Honora was given permission to speak to the prefects. She thought out the details the night before, lying on her stomach in her dormitory, chewing on the end of her quill.

The red-and-white themed Salvation Ball, would, as Kay suggested, be decorated with poppies. Honora had in her mind a field of snow, covered with red poppy petals. Tragic and beautiful, all at once. She wanted to avoid hearts and romance, even if was on Valentine's Day; the charity scholarship was a serious topic in itself.

The floor of the Great Hall would be covered in white fog, the ceiling charmed as a sky full of red and white stars. Garlands of poppies would be strung, as well as a wishing-fountain with floating flowers. Tickets would be sold, and an auction of some kind, all for a scholarship fund to supply magical orphans with a full education at Hogwarts. Of course, to make things more light-hearted, it was a 'girls ask the boys' dance.

With a whoosh of horror, Honora realised that if girls had to find dates for the ball, that meant she would have to find a date for herself. 'Damn,' she muttered to herself. She had not considered that. Who in the world was she going to take? Lawrence Carter would probably go with her, and he was tall and strapping and a Quidditch captain to boot. However, she also thought maybe she had an obligation to get to know Tom Riddle better.

Honora shivered involuntarily at the thought of spending the evening as Lord Voldemort's date. It made her feel cold and flushed at the same time. Tom Riddle was evil and attractive. It was very unsettling. Besides, Tom would probably decline her invitation. He was so handsome that half the girls in school would want to go with him. Most likely that seductive Slytherin girl, Olive Hornby, would ask him straight away.

'Bah,' Honora said out loud. 'Who cares, anyway. I'd rather stay away from him and enjoy my evening, thank you very much.'

The Salvation Ball idea was accepted with much enthusiasm at the prefect's meeting; everyone loved a dance. Damaris was on the committee, of course, along with the three other Ravenclaw prefects. Two Hufflepuffs and three Gryffindors (including Portia Whimsey from the Slug Club) added their names. Then, to Honora's surprise, Tom Riddle spoke up.

'Count me in,' he said, smiling pleasantly.

She ducked her head as she wrote Riddle's name down, so as to hide her expression of triumph. Slytherins were not known for charitable instincts, yet her idea had intrigued Riddle enough to make him volunteer. He would have no choice but to get to know her, perchance even trust her… Everything was going according to plan. She remembered from her briefing (so far long ago, so far in the future) that Riddle himself had grown up in the orphanage. He'd taken the bait and now she could keep a good eye on him. Her mouth twisted in a smile; oh, how she was clever.

It was decided that Honora and Damaris would sit at a table during the lunch hour for the next few days, signing up anyone else who wanted to be on the committee. In all, the idea was tremendously popular. Honora felt like she had clouds beneath her feet, so proud of herself was she. It felt good to be making waves at Hogwarts.

As she gathered her things after the meeting, she felt someone standing in front of her. She looked up; it was Riddle.

'Why are you really doing this, Crowley?' he asked quietly. 'Getting popularity points from the teachers?'

Honora scowled at him. Of course, that was exactly what she was doing. However, she was not about to tell him that. 'I am an orphan myself, Riddle. I know what it's like, and I think it's only fair I use my good fortune to try to help others like me.'

A strange expression flickered across his face. 'You're an orphan?'

'Yes.' It was the truth, after all. 'My parents were killed, in Europe. I myself have been a refugee until this year, when Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to help me.'

'Oh, yes, Dumbledore. He is quite the do-gooder, isn't he.' Riddle looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

Honora decided to bait him with a little sarcasm. 'Well, I suppose you have a wonderful family and perfect life, so I guess you couldn't possibly understand about being an orphan,' she said, narrowing her eyes at him. Waiting to see what he would tell her.

She was not disappointed. A flash of anger crossed Riddle's normally calm features. 'That's how much you know,' he spat. 'Try growing up in a dirty Muggle orphanage.'

Honora felt a little frightened. She did not want to deal with an angry future Dark Lord. She ploughed ahead in spite of herself. 'What do you mean? Your parents are dead, too?'

'My mother—' he stopped. 'Yes. My parents are dead.' Riddle absently twirled the black ring on his finger, then composed his face once more. 'I'll help with the publicity,' he said, gesturing down at Honora's scattered parchment. 'You know, tickets and the like.' He started for the door.

'Oh…okay,' Honora said. 'Riddle?' He turned. 'Thank you.'

Riddle did not respond, and left the room with a swish of his black robes.