A/N: So, now Hermione has another crying jag, Tom does some yelling, and the both experiment with some new spells. Bring on the irony, people, bring it on. Hi Perry.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

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Chapter 4: A Name

There was so much green when she opened her eyes: green bed, green walls, green curtains. It looked like a Slytherin explosion. She sat up and lent against the headboard of the bed someone had laid her on. It was a boy's room, there was no doubt, but it was freakishly neat. Not one drawer in the dresser wasn't pushed in, and no sock stretched across the floor. A book bag and a stack of parchment rested on a desk, along with a lit candle and several quills, all at 90-degree angles. It was creepy how unlike Harry and Ron's room it was. No, don't think about that.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a brisk knock on the door across from hr bed, which was followed by peals of laughter. Nervously, she walked across the room to the door and slid it open a crack. Several leering faces stared back at her as she leapt back in surprise. Rosier, Avery, and Nott snickered, the original death eaters.

"Well who do we have here?" Rosier asked rhetorically, as she backed away from them, remembering when she had last seen them. Rosier standing over Ron's body, Avery cursing Lupin into oblivion, Nott laughing as a deflected curse hit her in the heart. "Does Riddle have a little girlfriend he tried to hide from us?" He and the other two snickered as she tripped and fell onto her back, still pulling herself away from them. They laughed like they had last time, and Hermione felt completely defenseless, realizing her wand must have fallen in the living room. Please, she begged mentally. Please, I can't do three on one! Help me someone! "What are you afraid of? We just want to talk to you." His menacing tone wasn't convincing, neither was his drawn wand. She backed up into the wall, and pleaded for some protection from the smirking trio. And it came, just as the hex was on the tip of Rosier's tongue.

"Relivismecha!" bellowed the raven-haired boy, throwing open the door. The jet of blue light hit Rosier in the back, and he sank onto his knees, as Nott and Avery looked on in amazement. Rosier's face broke as he gasped and he ran his hands through his shaggy brown hair. The teen whimpered as Hermione tried to dissect what Tom's curse was doing.

"Finite incantantum," Tom muttered darkly, and the spell was taken off the sunken figure. "Now go!" he spat, moving aside so Avery and Nott could drag the now weeping teen out of the bedroom. Hermione was still shivering in the corner as Tom stared darkly at the closed door. "Did they hurt you?" he asked protectively, almost burning the door down with his murderous glare. She could almost laugh at his tone, Voldemort? Protective of the mudblood best friend of the boy-who-lived? But he hadn't even met Harry yet, or his parents for that matter. And in her mind, even though he had tried to force entry into said mind, he was still just Tom Riddle.

"No," she gasped, feeling tears slide down her cheeks. She had thought he was Harry. For a split second when he entered the room, she had thought Harry had come to save her. He turned to face her, and upon noticing she was crying, walked over and sunk down next to her, letting her have a good long cry. He didn't know what to do or what to say, so he just kept her company.

Hermione chided herself for crying. Her friends were dead, but she could save them. There was nothing she could do but do as Dumbledore had asked. This boy isn't Voldemort, she told herself. This is a boy who needs you, and considering your situation, who you need. So she dropped her guard and allowed herself to melt onto his shoulder. He let her, and just sat there, wondering how on earth he could cheer her up. This girl had been through a lot, he knew it, and she needed some support.

"What on earth happened to you, Hermione?" he whispered.

"I've lost everything," she said through sobs, giving into the need of support. "My- my best friends are- are gone. My f- family, my t- t- teachers." She snuffled and he pushed some bushy, and now wet hair off her face. "He- he killed everything."

"Who did this to you?" he asked, feeling anger and hate bubble up at the person who had hurt this girl so badly. But apparently that was the wrong thing to ask, and she moaned and buried her face into his neck as he stroked her back. "Don't worry." Sob. "It can only get better."

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He was reading a book in the common room when she came out of the bathroom later in the day. She had finally changed out of her frayed clothing and into a comfy denim dress that she had conjured from memory. Tom had let her use his bathroom so she could clean herself up, and she had found it as neat as his bedroom.

He looked up from his book as she settled into the other couch.

"Feeling better?" he asked cautiously. She nodded and peered curiously at the spine of his book.

"What are you reading?" she asked, and he turned the book to read the cover.

"A Warlock's Guide To Making Up Spells. It's random but interesting." She nodded again as he flipped back to his page.

"Did you make up that spell you used earlier?" He nodded. "What did it do, by the way?" She was a little nervous about his answer, since it might be a dark hex or curse.

"It forces the person to relieve their worst memory in their mind. It's a simple spell, but affective as you saw earlier. It's a good distraction."

"That's impressive magic to make up." He shrugged, and chose to ignore the compliment.

"You can get a book if you'd like," he said, the perfect thing to say. She smiled and leapt up to search the shelves for a tomb to enjoy.

"Curing Curse – Induced Cuts?" Tom read off the cover of the book she had decided on.

"I would love to be a healer once I graduate." She thumbed through a couple pages and both returned to their reading… supposedly. Hermione watched him over her book as he read. She noticed he sucked on his bottom lip as he studied, and that his angular face softened slightly as he absorbed the words. There was no sense of boredom radiating from his as it did from her old friends when they read, and she was grateful that she would not have to endure tear inducing discussions on quidditch. Tom wasn't like other boys, not that she'd expected him to be. He was intelligent, and sophisticated, interested in academics, and passionate about something other than broomsticks. As much as she hated to admit it, he was the perfect guy for her, and she hated that. Plus, he had great hair…

There was a knock on the door and they both looked up at it nervously. Hermione shrunk away from it, expecting more death eaters to pop out from behind it. Tom read her mind and got up to answer it, as she waited nervously.

"Ah, hello Mr. Riddle, I hope you're having a nice day," greeted a warm voice over Tom's head. Hermione relaxed and got up, before walking over to stand next to Tom. "Hello Ms. Granger, I was wondering if I could speak with you alone?" Dumbledore's eyes still held their hopeful twinkle. "If that is ok with Mr. Riddle?" Hermione hadn't noticed him stiffen beside her.

"Of course, Professor," he answered politely, but sent a death glare that plainly said, if you hurt her, you die. Dumbledore chuckled as Hermione looked on in amusement.

"Something wrong, Tom?" The boy grimaced and walked back to the couch, glairing at his book as Hermione stepped out into the hallway next to her role model. "How are you Ms. Granger?"

"I'm fine, thank you Professor." She noticed a school trunk beside him.

"Tell me, Ms. Granger, is the future nice?" he laughed kindly at her startled expression. The girl's mouth hung open and a blush was rising in her cheeks.

"Huh? Umm… a, I… wh- how did you know?"

"The time turner around your neck, my dear, is quite an obvious give away." She raised a hand to finger the gold chain resting around her neck. "Don't worry, they've only just been invented, and I doubt anyone other than myself or possibly Prof. Slughorn, who is very well informed, know of its existence." She gave a sigh of relief. "So, why have you come back, my dear, and why are you so keen on spending time with Hogwarts's head boy?"

"The future is not pleasant, sir. You sent me back to make sure that certain events from the future never happen." He raised an eyebrow at the mention of himself.

"So I play a role in the future, how wonderful." She cringed at his cheerful tone. "But was does young Tom have to do with these events, Ms. Granger?"

"He becomes a Dark Lord, one with unmatched power. It is my job in insure that he never becomes such a monster."

"How may I help you on this task?"

"I don't know if you can. The actions I must take are rather…" she searched for words as he looked at her intently, "personal." He nodded in understanding, and then motioned down to the trunk at his feet.

"These are some school things and clothing you may need. I've added some other books that you may find interesting. If you need anything else, just ask. However, you will have to trespass on Tom's hospitality a little longer, though I'm sure you won't mind." He winked at her. "Happy holidays, Hermione," he added, before he swept around and turned the corner, leaving her very bewildered. She magicked up her trunk and levitated it through the portrait hole. Then she set it down on the floor and opened the cover, aware that Tom was watching her over his book. On top of the stack of things in the trunk were several sets of the Hogwarts uniforms and robes, all with red and gold stitching.

"How did he know?" she murmured softly, fingering the Gryffindor emblem. Then she pushed the uniforms aside to see several pairs of muggle jeans (which were surprisingly from her time), a few polo shirts, and a denim jacket. They were all fancy muggle designers, and she recognized the logos. She didn't care much for fashion, but admired them just the same. Below them were the standard set of seventh year schoolbooks and assorted school supplies, and then several books she had never seen before. Puzzled, she picked them up and read their covers. A Wizard's Guide To Changing The Future, How To Hoodwink Those Around You, and The Proper Way To Ensnare Your Fancy, all had red velvet covers and thick spines, just how she liked them.

"That man knows everything," she whispered as she picked up the latter and closed the trunk.

The book ended up being the perfect mix of the trashy muggle Cosmopolitan magazine, and the magic/logic filled witch's guide to love potions. Its pages held tips and tricks on how to get your man, with simple spells to help your chances, but nothing to induce love or obsession on the receiver. She bookmarked the Dormier charm, which lulled the receiver, and the Vertonomy spell, which induced a small spell of jealousy. They were all very useful and minor, so that no one but the castor would notice anything different. Making sure that Tom was once again absorbed in his book, she pulled her wand out of her pocket and thought, tuinteresan. Then she quickly looked back down at her book and waited for the spell to take action.

It was almost instant. He closed his book and walked slowly over to her, then crouched down to sit beside her.

"Talk to me, Hermione," he asked gently, as she snapped her book shut and turned to face him. A smile, small but still a smile, a real smile graced his face. Not a smirk, not a leer, not the delirious look of joy he had when he killed Harry, a real, slightly lopsided smile. She liked it.

"About what?" he shrugged and leaned back against the trunk.

"It doesn't matter, just talk." She loved this charm. It was simple, it made the one it hit become interested, not infatuated but interested in the caster. They would want to spend time around the person and listen to what they had to say. It was perfect, and gave her a chance to spend time around him, and become more comfortable in his presence, and likewise.

"Tom isn't a good name for you, she said calmly. He didn't look hurt, and nodded vaguely.

"Oh?" he said, listening raptly. She loved the attention he was giving her. Harry and Ron had never really focused on what she said, unless it related directly to them, but he actually listened.

"It's too plain."

"I've got another name," he said casually as she gulped subtly.

"And what's that?" She wondered how much he would tell her.

"Lord Voldemort." Cringing, she tried to figure what to say.

"I don't like that though. It's not a real name." He shrugged.

"But it's different."

"It's too different."

"Well, what do you prefer?" She thought for a while. There was no perfect name for him.

"Clark." He laughed.

"Superman?" She blushed, forgetting he had spent most of his life in a muggle orphanage. "Although that does sound good."

"Maybe not, it's too stiff for you." Tom cracked his knuckles carelessly and realized it was almost lunchtime.

"I'm going to make more sandwiches okay?" She nodded and thought, Finite Incantantem. He didn't show any physical change once the spell was lifted. Well that went well, she thought, opening her book again to see if there were any other spells she could use. The vibe spell looked promising. It would let the caster pick up the vibes the other person was feeling, such as confusion, hatred, comfort, and love. She whispered, "Emotiousa," and was hit by a sense of confusion. She looked up at Tom curiously, wondering what was confusing him. But she couldn't read minds, so she continued to read, letting his emotions settle around her.

Tom was confused about how Hermione had reacted to the news of his alter ego. It was like she knew of it already, and that disturbed him. Only his so-called "friends" knew of Lord Voldemort, and he didn't want this innocent girl who was messing him up so much to be tainted. But that was another thing, why did he care? It was just some chick that had fallen into his lap, unconscious. And she was a Gryffindor!

But there was just something about her that was special, and he really wanted to learn more about her. What she'd told him earlier only gave him more questions, and it was really irritating, knowing he couldn't force the answers out of her. Not only was she skilled at Occlumancy, but also he didn't want to hurt her.

Hermione realized some curiosity was mixed into the confusion vibes she was attracting. Tom handed her a plate and sat back down next to her on the floor. Cheese sandwich on wheat bread with bacon, her favorite. She took a big bite of the sandwich, savoring the taste. During the war she didn't have time to savor simple pleasures like food. Tom loved watching her expression change from curiosity to comfort and relief. He felt happy that he had done something right. And Hermione felt the happiness he radiated. Finite Incantantem, she thought to herself.

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A/N: Long chappie, did you like it? REVIEW! GO ON!

Next Time:

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Then later:

"Sneak around with anyone you want, man, just as long as she isn't a mudblood… or a Gryffindor."