Author's Notes: I HAD to put a dance in the story! I know, every TR story has one, but that's because they're just so much fun, especially for back in the 1940s. And at least Honora is putting hers on for selfish reasons, instead of the 'good of the school' or some nonsense. I know from personal experience that many charity events are only held to give their attendees a sense of smug self-satisfaction. Also, an 'athame' (pronounced ath-a-may) is a term used for a ritual knife.

Special thanks to The Enchanted Teakettle, LavenderBrown77, Wren, Tiamat Warcraft, and DarthStriker for your reviews!

Enjoy the little awkward moments in this chapter. I know I would find it hard to keep my cool if Tom Riddle was around.

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

Chapter 8

Dumbledore's Advice

The next day after the prefects' meeting, word spread throughout the school about the Salvation Ball. The Great Hall was buzzing with excitement, and within the first ten minutes of the lunch hour the committee was filled. Many other students told Honora that they wanted to help set up. Her face hurt from smiling by the end of the day.

The entire student body was talking about Honora Crowley, the president of the Salvation Ball committee. Dumbledore had praised her idea in class, and Slughorn had given her extra points for Ravenclaw just for stirring her potion in a 'unique' way. Certainly even Tom Riddle had not managed to gain such instant recognition.

It really is brilliant, thought Honora. Not only is this doing wonders for me personally, but it is actually fun to organise AND it will genuinely help people in need. In her mind, it just went to show that even selfish motives could be used for good and moral purposes.

Her self-congratulations did not last long. Honora was in the Ravenclaw common room, playing Exploding Snap with Lawrence and Ash, when Kay St. John came in, clutching her books to her chest.

'Hey, Kay!' Honora said. Kay pretended not to hear her, and instead went straight up to their dormitories. 'What's eating her?' Honora asked the boys. Both shrugged.

At dinner that evening, Honora was sitting with Damaris and scanning over her papers for the ball. When Kay came in the Great Hall, she chose a seat on the other end of the table, as far away from Honora and Damaris as possible. Honora frowned. Was Kay mad at her? She scanned the committee members' list; Kay was not on it.

'Damaris?'

'Hmm?'

'Why didn't Kay want to be on the committee?'

Damaris looked stumped. 'Uh, I don't know!'

'She's been acting weird. She won't talk to me.'

'Really? She's acting fine to me,' said Damaris, watching Honora with her brown eyes. 'Maybe she felt left out of the planning or something.' Damaris turned back to her pork chops.

Honora tried to speak with Kay that night before bed, but Kay just said 'I'm tired,' and closed her curtains with a Silencing charm. Honora could not imagine what the trouble was, until the morning. She heard Kay tearfully whispering to Willow McLeod, one of their other dorm-mates.

'She's just so full of herself,' Kay was saying. 'She gets this idea and then just takes off with it, never even asking me if I wanted to help. She's come between me and Damaris with her joking and her popularity and her stupid ball. It's just because she's a Crowley, some pure-blood who thinks she can do anything.'

'I'm sure she just didn't realise,' Willow said softly, trying to calm Kay down. Honora's eyes were wide as she continued to listen.

'Of course she did!' Kay kept crying. 'Did she ask you? After all, you're a half-blood.'

'Kay, she might be many things, but I don't think Honora is a snob at all. Why don't you talk to her?'

'I don't have anything to say to her,' Kay sniffed. There was the noise of a trunk opening, and rummaging.

Honora sat back on her bed, guilt washing over her. She had been arrogant, she realised. She had ignored Kay in her excitement over her idea for the ball, and had indeed forgotten to ask Kay to be on the committee. I should have done that first thing, she thought morosely. Honora also did not realise what effect her coming to Hogwarts might have on two friends such as Kay and Damaris. She did not want to be accused of coming between them.

As she fixed her hair for the day, Honora gazed into the mirror at herself, filled with some self-loathing. By trying to be popular and well-liked by many, she had forgotten about one of her first and closest friends. Honora vowed to keep things in perspective from now on. 'You need to be taken down a notch, Honora Crowley,' she whispered to herself.

'You tell them, dear!' the mirror replied, thinking she was talking about someone else.

Honora returned to her room and made a list before going down to breakfast.

It said:

Things I will do:

Make it up to Kay; repair friendship!

Be nice and kind to everyone

Throw a fabulous Salvation Ball, for the right reasons

Get close to Tom Riddle and prevent him from becoming an evil megalomaniac. Create viable plan tokill him (she chewed her quill over this one).

Remember my purpose here: to save the future.

Suitably re-motivated, Honora whispered 'Incendio' to burn the parchment, then 'Evanesco' to clean up the ashes.

At breakfast, Honora spotted Kay's brown-haired head down the end of the table. Honora deliberately walked over to where Kay was sitting by herself and sat down across from her. It was time to eat some humble pie.

'We need to talk,' Honora said.

Kay looked at her coldly. 'What about?'

'I know you're angry with me,' said Honora, 'and I think I know why.'

Kay merely raised her eyebrows.

Honora took a breath. 'I'm really sorry about the ball. I should have asked you to be on the committee right away; after all, the red poppy decorations were your idea! I've been too caught up in it, and that's my fault.' Kay just stared at her, not making things any easier. 'And…I just wanted to say that it's nothing to do with you, it's just me being stupid. And I'm sorry.' Honora looked hopefully at Kay.

'Oh, it's all right,' Kay finally said. 'It's fine.'

'Really?' Honora almost squealed. 'I'm so glad!' She reached across the table and grasped Kay's hands, who seemed surprised. 'And I really, really want you on the committee. You're indispensable, I don't want to be involved in this Salvation Ball without you.'

This made Kay grin. She shrugged her shoulders in acquiescence. 'Okay!' she said. 'I'm sorry too, for not talking to you.'

'All is forgiven!' Honora said dramatically. 'Now, let's find Damaris and the three of us get to work. We have mid-term exams coming up.' Honora was relieved beyond words; she hated interpersonal conflict. It was best to get it out in the open, like ripping off a bandage.

As the winter wore on, and with the Kay-Damaris-Honora friendship intact, life settled into a satisfying mix of studies and fun. Honora was getting Outstanding marks in all of her classes except Herbology (definitely not her best subject). She spent a great deal of spare time with her friends in the library, the favourite spot for Ravenclaws.

One bright, cold day, Honora decided it was never too early to study for exams, and inspired herself to get ahead in Arithmancy. She sat with Kay at a dark wood table, writing down the references she would need.

Glancing about her, she noticed Riddle, four tables over, his head bent over a large book and absorbed in his work. The table next to him was occupied entirely by a group of silly girls, who kept tossing flirtatious looks at him, which he blatantly ignored. Honora rolled her eyes. Lord Voldemort has a fan club, she thought acrimoniously.

'I'll be right back,' Honora said to Kay, standing up from the table and smoothing out her uniform skirt. She sauntered delicately through the stacks of books, looking for the section on Advanced Arithmancy theory. With a glare of frustration, she found the book she was looking for, 'Theoretical Metaphysics of Arithmancy', on the very top shelf. With a quick glance around, she saw no ladders or step-stools to help her out.

She brought her wand out and flicked up at the book. 'Wingardium Leviosa,' she commanded. The text floated into the air...along with about ten other heavy books.

'Ugh,' said Honora. She did not know how to get them all back without dropping them.

'Need some help?' someone said.

Honora turned to find Tom Riddle standing, arms crossed, superior expression written on his face.

Distracted by him, she lowered her wand, and all ten heavy books crashed to the ground, one hitting Honora straight on top of the head. 'Ow!' she exclaimed, rubbing her head, feeling a hot blush work up her cheeks. To make matters worse, she stepped over the books, and her foot caught, causing her to stumble and fall forward slightly. She felt completely humiliated, especially because she knew Riddle must be enjoying watching her make a fool of herself.

'Careful,' he said, smirking. 'Looks like you're in over your head, Crowley.'

'I assure you, I'm not,' she replied, pushing her now-mussed hair out of her face, gathering her poise. With effort, she recovered her normal grace and stood tall. Honora was not normally a clumsy person, but for some reason she was left grasping for composure when Riddle was around. She hated that Riddle could stand there looking so innocent, so harmless, when she knew a monster lurked within.

She wished there was something to do that would make him unhinged.

'Here,' Riddle said, waving his wand silently. All the books flew back to their places, except for 'Theoretical Metaphysics of Arithmancy,' which he bent down and handed to her.

'Thank you,' Honora said, raising her eyebrows, again surprised by his politeness.

A giggle issued forth from behind the next bookshelf. Honora peered through a gap between the books, and saw a group of girls standing in a cluster, spying on Riddle. A little surprised, Honora even recognised her dorm-mate Willow amongst them. With a roll of her eyes, she turned to him. 'You're very popular, aren't you.'

He smiled self-deprecatingly, lifting his hands in surrender. 'I'm sure I'm undeserving of it.'

'False modesty does not become you, Riddle.'

He looked resentful all of a sudden. 'Fine. See if I help you out again.'

'I don't need your help, or anything else,' Honora said quickly.

'Except with the ball committee.'

'Oh, and I'm sure you're doing that for selfless reasons!' Honora clutched her large textbook close to her. 'I am grateful for your assistance just now. But, if you'll excuse me, I have many things to do.' She pushed past him, refusing to meet his eye. The girls in the next aisle giggled harder.

'You're welcome!' Riddle's voice called after her.

Planning for the ball went on unabated; Honora delegated the various tasks amongst the committee members. Decorations, music, food, tickets, and budget were all being taken care of. They named the new scholarship fund the 'Felix and Adaire Crowley Memorial Fund,' after Honora's parents. It would provide any magical orphan a full-ride scholarship at Hogwarts, and any additional magical training undertaken after graduation, plus a stipend for books, clothes, and spending money.

The committee of fifteen students met every two weeks, on Tuesday evenings after dinner, in the Transfiguration classroom. Honora loved being in charge of meetings, and presided with benevolent sternness. Being a group leader gave her a sense of self-confidence. One night, in early December, the group sat about discussing the fundraising and beneficiaries of the charity fund.

'Well, Hogwarts already has a fund for poor people,' said one of the Hufflepuffs, a boy named Xandy Middleton, who was well-intentioned but too wealthy to have a good grip on reality. 'Seems to me this whole thing's been done before.'

Honora rolled her eyes. Then why are you helping with the ball? she wanted to ask. 'Yes, Hogwarts does have a fund to help those who cannot pay their fees. But I've checked with Dumbledore on this,' (which was not true, but she knew the information anyway) 'and that fund is very limited, covering only books and tuition. This Scholarship fund will provide for wizarding orphans in every respect, in school and beyond. Besides, there's no such thing as too much generosity,' Honora smiled around the table.

Tom Riddle was sitting at the end of the row, farthest from Honora, but when he cleared his throat to speak, the entire committee waited for him. It was frightening how much respect he could command, with just a look.

'What about summers?' Riddle said.

Honora looked at him, puzzled. 'How do you mean?'

'Well, if someone's an orphan, they don't necessarily have a home for the summer. Perhaps there could be a provision to stay over at Hogwarts, or in Hogsmeade.'

Honora blinked in surprise and stared at Riddle. That was uncharacteristically sensitive, she thought. 'I think…that's a fabulous idea,' she said candidly.

Riddle's upper lip curled slightly, a half-smile that was unattractive. 'I'm delighted that you think so, dear leader.' There seemed to be an undertone of resentment or sarcasm in his statement.

'Good!' Honora replied brightly, unwilling to let him get to her. She wrote down the summer home proposal with utmost care.

Honora could easily see how Riddle had fooled so many people. He was generally charming, polite, and an interesting conversationalist. The teachers adored him (with the exception of Dumbledore), and he always played up the 'poor handsome brilliant orphan' card. Yet he kept a strict control over his Slytherin groupies; Honora got the impression that he kept them in line through fear. The other students, like Lawrence and Damaris, had mixed feelings about him; Riddle's dark side lurked beneath a veneer of absolute goodness. No amount of charm could completely disguise it.

However, there was nothing about Riddle that anyone could point to as wrong, exactly, and even Honora had to admit he had been helpful and ingenious while designing the tickets, working out the budget, and charming the advertisement posters to appear throughout the school.

During their last Hogsmeade weekend before the holidays, Honora bought small gifts for all of her friends, and got a few in return. Personalised parchment stationary from Damaris; a new set of blue velvet gloves from Kay; and Lawrence had kindly sent her a box of rose-shaped chocolates. At that, Honora began to suspect he might fancy her a little bit. Not that she minded; fit Lawrence with his glossy chestnut-brown hair was definitely fanciable.

A few days before Christmas, Hogwarts emptied out and was left with only a fraction of its students, including Honora (she wanted to keep an eye on Riddle). She took the opportunity to turn in some Transfiguration extra credit and have a chat with Professor Dumbledore. After her quarrel with Kay, and her bumpy attempts to get to know Riddle, Honora was feeling in need of a confidence boost. She needed some assurance that she was, in fact, going about her mission the right way.

'Would you like a lemon drop, Miss Crowley?' Dumbledore asked her when she sat down in his office. 'They are really my favourite.'

'Sure,' said Honora, taking one of the funny little sweets. 'Thanks.'

'How has your year been going? You certainly are one of the brightest students in your class. You should be proud of that.'

'I love it here,' said Honora passionately. 'This is like…what I always imagined it should be. I feel as though I'm living a legend.'

Dumbledore looked at her curiously. 'Yes, Hogwarts is a special place, indeed.'

For some reason, Honora felt like she could open up to Dumbledore and tell him what she really felt. 'When I lost my parents—and afterwards, too—I was living in a very dismal place. I rarely ever saw the sky, and never got to leave Po- I mean, the cave where we were hiding. It was all I had ever known. It's just that sometimes I feel that it's wrong for me to be loving it here so much,' she finished, unsure how to put it into words.

'Miss Crowley, I'm sure your parents would be very glad to see you happy. Life is not meant to be lived in a depressing fashion. You should not feel guilty for taking your opportunities with relish. Salsa, if you like,' Dumbledore's eyes seemed to wink at her.

Honora smiled at him. 'That's what it is, I suppose. But is it wrong to be glad at the way my life has turned out? I mean, I've lost people so close to me, and it does not seem fair that I get to go on and do so much with my life. And to be so…ambitious, I suppose.'

'Survivor's guilt is never productive, Miss Crowley. And I do not see you misusing your opportunities here. You have made an impression on this school, a positive one. I would encourage you to keep doing exactly what you are doing. You will accomplish it all just fine,' he said with a smile.

Honora started. He couldn't know, could he? She decided it was just a coincidence of speech. 'Thank you, sir. And just so you know, we all love your class. Well, maybe not the Slytherins. But the Ravenclaws do.' A little flattery never hurt.

'I'm very glad,' said Dumbledore. He ushered her out of his office with three more lemon drops and Honora felt better after talking with him. Even thought Dumbledore did not know she was a time-traveller, he still managed to say the right, encouraging thing. Honora sighed. Maybe if she stayed focused, Dumbledore would never have to fight against Voldemort in the future.

At the Christmas feast, Honora discovered that Tom Riddle had not stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays after all. She questioned a fourth-year Slytherin (bullied, more like) into telling her that Riddle was spending the holidays at Cornelius Nott's family estate. This annoyed Honora. Great. He's probably learning all kinds of Dark magic.

To her further dismay, an illicit trip to the Restricted Section of the library had given Honora no creative ideas on how to commit homicide. She was frustrated that Julius Talbot had sent her back in time with instructions to 'stop' Tom Riddle, but no specific details as to how she might do that.

Honora's mind started to wander. If she had to murder Riddle, and get caught at it, perhaps she should make it dramatic. Graduation, she thought. He'll be up on the stage, making some Head Boy speech, and I'll creep up behind him with a razor-sharp athame… the crowd will gasp… Dippet will faint, Dumbledore will shout 'NO!', and Riddle will be dead…Grossed out by her thoughts, Honora sighed and placed her head on top of the stack of dusty books.

'I guess it's Azkaban for me,' she said out loud to the empty library.

A/N: I love reviews, so tell me what you thought! Thanks!

And, a note about the pacing of this story: The Riddle moments have been little ones so far. This is deliberate. I hate stories that jump the gun too soon, and have a twisted psycho like Riddle fall 'instantly' in love with whoever. Judging from my reviews, most of you agree with me that Riddle should be kept in-character and the story realistic (with adequate character development) so I am glad for that! But for those of you waiting for intense Tom, rest assured it will happen. Think of it like a circle: it will get tighter and tighter up until the end. Next update on Saturday!