A/N: OK Perry, I apologize that you're not actually in this chapter, but you've got a role in later chapters, you will not be disappointed. And I apologize if I spell your name wrong, last name that is. Anyway, read on my friends. And BTW, Tom is so cute in this chapter. Sigh, he panics.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

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Chapter Six: A Panic

Perry Minella was a strong girl, which Tom knew quite well. Seeing her break down like she had that morning was a very rare occurrence, and it almost disturbed him to know that it was even possible. What ever she had experienced was obviously horrible and unimaginable, but for once he wasn't pleased at the thought of a muggleborn getting such treatment. The news that Hermione was a muggleborn had shocked him, and yet made him realize that lineage wasn't everything. He cared for her, and that opinion didn't change when she had spoken of her parents.

So even though he didn't particularly like Perry, he was still concerned for her well being, and her treatment and the story she had told provided him with a vague idea of what had happened to Hermione. She was shaken, and pulled into the depths of her mind after learning of Perry's misfortune, and Tom was lead to believe that something at least similar had happened to her. "So many lives lost… everything's gone." Had her parents also been murdered? Had her boyfriend, he cringed at the realization that she might have one, too been kidnapped? Would she ever tell him the full story?

She was not in the head's common room when he returned from the headmaster's office. Possible places where she could be leapt through his mind, each more outrageous then the last. I'm panicking, he realized. I'm actually panicking! He tore through his rooms, looking for the brown hair sticking out of a corner. Think Hermione, umm… bookworm. She must have found the library! So he closed and locked his bedroom door and sped out the door, marveling about how much he cared. You fool, calm down, he thought as he sprinted past a group of Hufflepuffs, who were looking at him curiously. You're ruining your reputation! But he didn't care about Voldemort, he didn't care about the heir of Slytherin, he didn't care about the ring digging into his finger. The only thought he considered was Hermione: what would happen if she were hurt, how it would be his fault. Why do I care? He asked himself as he jumped a flight of stairs. What is this feeling? There was no point pretending, he knew what it was: love. Such a cliché, but that's what it was. This girl had come into his life, angered his friends, and made him doubt everything he believed in. Why? Because she was unlike anyone he had ever met. And he loved her. And now he was panicking.

She was leaning against a bookcase reading a thick book about memory distortion when he found her. She was his polar opposite, calm and collected.

"Merlin, Hermione, don't run off like that," he panted, resting his hands on his knees. She started, looking up from the heavy tomb to see him gasping for air, jelled hair fairly lopsided.

"Sorry Tom, I just wanted to check something." She stood up and clutched the book tightly to her chest. "Can I take this out under your name? I don't know if I'm in the system yet." He nodded and followed her out to the librarian's desk. They checked out the book in silence, as Tom argued with himself about weather he liked this new emotion. He wondered if Hermione loved him back, if she had ever loved before. He hoped he would not be learning about unrequited love as well in the near future. She shouldn't love him, though. He wasn't good enough for her. He was a murderer, and he had done it out of anger and sport, based on false beliefs. He really was a Gaunt, a hypocrite who didn't understand the feelings of others. Yes, he knew all about his mother's use of a love potion, the result of memory stealing and gossip collecting. He was probably the only one who knew of his mother's plan, but he wasn't planning on sharing. His parent's "relationship" was based on obsession, and he was a product of deceit and lies. He wasn't supposed to love.

Hermione read her book as they walked back to their rooms. She didn't want to forget her job, but she couldn't stop thinking of the glint of red in Voldemort's eye as he killed Harry. She didn't want to see it every time she looked at Tom. Tom was a murderer, but she still saw a glimmer of hope in him. He was already changing, and he cared about her. What about Myrtle? The glint asked her as Tom held a door open for her. Should she have died? No, but he didn't understand. You keep telling yourself that, Granger. But what about his father, or his grandparents? Did they deserve to die? The glint sounded remarkably like Malfoy. There was no way to justify what he had done. Tom smiled at her as she sat down on the couch in the head's common room. He sat down next to her, and looked curiously at the book clutched to her chest.

"What did you get?" There was no glint in his eye, no disfigured grin on his face. In fact, there was a new expression on his face, one that she had never seen there before. Could it be? But… did he love her?

"Something to help me forget." The familiar feel of dust and slightly grimy old books under her fingertips was comfortable. All she needed was a calm fire and Ron and Harry playing chess and she could be back in the Gryffindor common room.

"What do you need to forget?" he asked, doing his best not to pry too far. "I thought you couldn't remember." She looked up from the yellowed pages of the tomb. He really was handsome. She never thought she could fall for the bad boy.

"I could never forget." They were much to close; she could see every eyelash curling above his black pupils.

"You can always forget." He was right. The glint was pushed to the back of her mind as she leant into him. She had a real first kiss, ignoring the thoughts of Ron. It felt right as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, smiling through the kiss. They both needed this, the closeness, the support. Tom had never had it, and Hermione had never wanted it. But now they both shared it, and it made all the difference.

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"When are you going to tell me what happened, Mione?" Tom asked quietly, later on that day. She was leaning against his chest, still on the sofa, reading the book. She had been expecting this. It had probably been annoying him for a while.

"When I can tell myself what happened." He sighed, and she closed the book, letting it drop to the floor with a soft thud. "Relax Tom, I'll tell you when I'm ready." He softened and pulled her closer to him, so that they lay side by side on the Slytherin colored couch.

"Of course," he said with a small smile before giving her a quick kiss on the lips. She giggled as he brushed a stray lock of messy hair out of her eyes. "You're so beautiful, Mione," he whispered softly. "How could anyone hurt you?" She winced as he said the ironic words, thanking Merlin that the question was rhetorical. She was beginning to hate irony. It was just too cruel. (A/N: Shout out to Kili of the Forest, you've got to love the irony!)

"You will never hurt me?" she said, sounding insecure, but if he answered the way she thought he would, then her job was almost over. Being the observer that he was, he noticed her nerves.

"Never." She thanked him with passionate lip-lock. She rolled on top of him, really warming up to the idea of making out. She had always scorned Won Won and Lav Lav for their irksome habit of smooching every second of the day, but now that she experienced it, with someone who meant something to her, in some weird unexplainable way at least, she realized she quite liked it. Well, she loved it actually, and she couldn't help but wonder how she had lasted 17 years without it. Contrary to popular belief, she hadn't ever made out with Krum in her fourth year, and during the short time she was with Ron before the final battle they hadn't done much more than kiss.

Ron- the thought of him made guilt surge through her. What would he say, what would Harry say, if they could see her now? Disappointment and revulsion from Harry, most likely. Anger and jealousy from Ron, with possible attempts at murder… (A/N: Shout out to my Stop Calling Me Malfoy fans!) She sunk into Tom, relishing in how unlike her this was. But the old you died along with Harry and Ron, didn't it? There's a new Hermione Granger now, isn't there? She needed to breathe but she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

It was like fire, this kiss, and she would focus on it. In this world she had no pressures placed on her. Sure, there was that whole "Seduce-Voldemort-or-innocent-lives-will-be-lost" thing, but there was no one here to make sure she did. There was no one to copy her notes during class, no one's homework to look over as well as her own. She was free in the forties… and also kind of sluttish. Not that anyone was watching…

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A/N: Not that anyone was watching LOL! Oh wait, I can't be sarcastic about that yet since you haven't read that part. Oops. Anyway… Shout outs to all my reviewers! wannabe-hermione, Kichou, AidenShadowBreeze, san01, rinkurocks, Elizabeth Tavington, Mrs Pierre Bouvier, Limit, Silver Vampire of the Shadows, LadyDanielle, Kili of the Forest, WoodCrazy, RavenxBeauty, lutra33, and PeskyPixiePicsaPotter. I think that's everyone. Anyway, thanks a bunch. It was so nice to see a full inbox when I came home from vacation. Teaser?

"You know what, I can't do this. I need to be honest with you," she said, pulling herself away from him.

Then, in the next chapter:

"It wasn't Griniwald who killed your friend, was it?"

Anyway, I'll update later. And please go read A Well-Kept Secret! PLEASE!