A/N: You all love this story, right? Well here's another good chapter, with Tom being a paranoid ass. But we all love the paranoid ass, right? Anyway, I'll just start.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

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Chapter Nine: A Warning

She nodded off crying on his shoulder. He was amazed. The album was like a slideshow of her life. He knew much more than he had before, about her friends, about her past, about his future. He didn't want to think about that though. But Hermione had a life she had left behind. She had first love, a boyfriend, and friends who she had to go back to. She was no longer a mystery, and yet he still yearned to know her better.

He picked her up carefully and carried her once again into his bedroom. This was becoming a pattern. She didn't wake up as he lowered her onto the silk sheets, and tucked her in gently. Like he had before, he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead and stepped back. Tom found a pair of cotton black pajama pants to change into, and he crept into his private bathroom to freshen up. When he came back into the bedroom she was apparently still asleep, but as he reached the door she rasped, "Wait."

"Yes?" He answered, turning to face her. Her eyes were closed, and for a second he thought he might have imagined it.

"Stay with me, please," she whispered, shifting so half the large bed was empty. He faltered, but tiptoed to the side and hesitantly lowered himself next to her, getting below the comforter but not the sheet. "Thank you." Shifting so she was closer and she could feel his warmth she added, "for everything." He leaned onto his side and watched her stomach rise and fall.

"What have I done?"

"You've been supportive." Her eyes fluttered open and met his gaze, as she twisted to face him. "Most people wouldn't do what you've done for me." She unearthed a hand from under the mounds of silk to brush back some hair from his eyes. The hand didn't move and she caressed his cheek. "You really are amazing, Tom Riddle. Just don't loose faith in yourself." He grasped her hand and kissed her palm shamelessly. "I'm guessing now you know why I'm here." She pulled her hand back.

"I think so." He closed his eyes. "I'm not becoming Voldemort, Mione. That's not me anymore." She shifted again. "I guess you can go home now."

"I don't just want to pack up and leave, Tom. And what about Perry? I feel like I need to help her."

"You should go back home, back to Ron," he spat bitterly, rolling away from her. "You love him, don't you?" She gasped.

"Didn't you see how miserable I was in that picture? I deeply care about Ron, but there's no passion there! Its not like-" she stopped abruptly. "It's not like us." Tom burrowed into his pillow.

"But you're just doing your job, you're just saving the world."

"I'm doing this because I care about you. I understand that you've never had this before, but you have to believe me when I say I'm not using you." Cautiously, the boy rolled back over, hair once again falling into his onyx eyes. "I'm really falling for you Tom." Deciding it was the best thing to do, she slowly snuggled a little closer to him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. He didn't back away, and instead readily slid his tongue into her mouth. Giggle against his lips, she pulled away, leaving him flustered. "You need to come with me when I go back."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We'll both be of age, and if it's okay with you we could get a flat somewhere. I could train to be a healer like I wanted, and you can work at the ministry or at Hogwarts or something." He nodded.

"I'd love to teach-"

"DADA, I know. When Dumbledore didn't offer you the position you cursed it so no one could hold it for over a year." He groaned.

"That sounds like something I would do." She laughed and kissed him again. It deepened quickly and he carefully rolled on top of her. Yes, she had defiantly learned something on this time travel trip: making out was fun, especially with the tall, dark, and handsome Tom Riddle.

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The next morning Hermione once again woke up first. He looked so innocent and juvenile sprawled across the mattress, his hair falling into his eyes like Harry's used to and would again. She sat up slowly so as not to wake him, before creeping into the bathroom to shower and change. As her eyes adjusted to the winter sunlight beaming through the windows, she realized she was beginning to appreciate the colors green and silver, although she'd never admit it.

He woke up to the sound of water running. It was just Hermione in the shower, but her had to stifle the new urge to burst into the bathroom. That was new; he had never really been attracted to anyone. Fortunately, he had a great deal of self-control, and resisted the pull to fling open the door. His wand sat on the bedside table, and he gripped it his fingers as he coaxed himself out of the warm bed. Not feeling in the mood to hand pick out an outfit, he pointed his wand to himself and whispered, "Dress me." Stumbling sleepily to the mirror, he found he was wearing a pair of black cargo pants and a faded bray button down shirt over a white undershirt. You've got to love that spell, he thought as he shaped his hair with one flick of his wand. Tom was by no means vain, he just liked feeling in charge of every situation, and part of that was looking good. Well, there was the kick he got out of making Hermione blush. Proud of his appearance, he tucked his wand into one of his pockets and entered the common room. Perry was apparently still in her room, but he didn't think much of it.

The photo album from the previous night lay abandoned on the carpet, so he lent over to pick it up. Settling down on the couch, it fell open on his lap to what seemed to be a new page in the back. Hunching over to see what it was, Tom saw that it was a portrait of him. He was still asleep and it seemed to have been taken the previous night. His hair tumbled onto the pillow, and his lips were moving. The real Tom squirmed. He had forgotten he talked in his sleep. The children at the orphanage had always steered clear of his bedroom while he slept, saying that "weird things" had happened, or something to that degree. Now Tom knew that he must have been mumbling spells without knowing it. As a young kid he had always been able to do the impossible. He was a wizard after all, and a gifted one at that. Between his lineage, skill, and handsome face, he had the world at his fingertips. Yet ever since Hermione had entered the picture, he didn't know what to do with it.

The water stopped running and he flipped back through the album. If he did go back with her, what would he do? He wouldn't be leaving behind any family or friends, but it still made him feel nervous and alone. He was beginning to depend on Hermione for company, and she was the first person to understand what he was conveying without him saying it. But if he followed her back to her time, then he wouldn't have her all to himself. And what about that boyfriend? From what he could see from the album, they hadn't broken up before his murder. Would she leave him when she saw Ron again? He wouldn't be able to take it! What if her friends didn't like him? They were very close to her, and could probably turn her against him with ease. "He's a Slytherin," they could say. "He's bad news, and he could be using you. He's up to something." But he wasn't up to anything! This was just his last desperate attempt to have a family, to feel cared about. She did care about him, she had said so, but did she love him? He wasn't going to deny that he loved her. The bedroom door clicked open and Tom pulled his eyes away from the snapshot of Hermione kissing Ron at Bill and Fleur's wedding. The real Hermione wore a simple knee length gray skirt with a plain red t-shirt. She looked radiant in anything, but the red accented her well.

"Morning," she said, walking over to sit down next to him on the couch. Upon seeing the page he was turned to she frowned. "How can I convince you that I don't have feelings for Ron?" He snapped the book shut and grimaced. "I'm not going to run back to him. He was a crap boyfriend. I think he was cheating on me."

"Why would he cheat on you? You have everything!" he exclaimed. She sighed and lay back on the sofa, putting her feet up in his lap.

"Who cares? It wasn't a heart breaking realization anyway. Dating him was like dating a cousin. I knew him too well. And he was meant to be with Lavender as well. Won Won and Lav Lav will probably be together by the time I get back." He quirked an eyebrow. "Don't look at me that way! I didn't invent those retched names." He relaxed and realized she was right. At least one of his fears was irrational. "What's the date?"

"Judging from how late we went to sleep, I'm guessing it's late afternoon December 23." She blinked and sat up.

"Tomorrow's Christmas Eve." It was. What a depressing holiday it would be. "I wonder where I can get some pictures from past Christmases," she whispered, and the book in Tom's lap grew several inches thicker. Wordlessly, he handed her the album, and she snuggled against him before turning to the first page.

The picture held an explosion of color, mainly red. It was her, Harry, and the Weasley's during sixth year, complete with Fleur Delacour belittling the radio station. The snapshot Hermione was wedged between George and Ron, the latter was gaping at the French whiner. Tom scoffed, just like she'd expected him to. "I told you he was a crap boyfriend."

"Were you going out then?" She watched as Harry sat down next to Ginny, looking flushed as usual. They were such a cute couple.

"No. I had another good five months of freedom left at that point." Remus read a book by the fire next to Tonks, and Mr. Weasely was fiddling with a muggle plug. "We're such an odd group," she told him, as Tonks knocked over a water jug that had been resting in front of her on the coffee table. "I'm sure you'll fit right it."

"Are you calling me odd?" he asked, teasing her. She smirked a very Slytherin smirk at him before turning the page.

"Well, you are quite odd, Lord Voldy-thing. Are you denying that you're a parsletongue and that you're Heir of Slytherin?" He paled considerably.

"How'd you know that?"

"That is for me to know and for you never to find out." She looked back at the album to find her fifth year self standing in a doorway next to Sirius, a fowl look on her face. She had always liked Sirius, he had complemented her after all, but at that particular moment they were standing under mistletoe, at which Sirius was beaming like a mad man. Thankfully, they were alone in the hallway at the Noble House of Black, so when she stood on tiptoes to kiss him quickly on the cheek, no one was there to see him scooping her up to kiss her on the lips. When he set her down again on the ground she ran off, blushing furiously, as he laughed his ass off and turned around to enter his bedroom. "No one was supposed to find out about that," the real Hermione rasped as Tom inherited her smirk.

"Your secret's safe with me, Mione. Now we're even," he drawled before kissing her on the cheek.

"I'm so sure. Once you meet Harry you'll probably spill and tell him how I kissed his godfather, ew!" He laughed, as a small cough alerted them they were not alone. They looked up to see Perry, framed in the doorway, with a funny look on her face.

"Um," she said awkwardly. "Good afternoon Riddle, and… Hermione was it?" She nodded and noticed her calming drought had faded. There was an obvious amount of sadness in her tone, though Hermione had expected that. "Well, hi." Tom blinked at her, not really knowing what to say.

"Hello Perry, feeling better?" Hermione asked cautiously. When someone had been through such an ordeal anything could set her off, so she had to choose her words wisely. Thankfully, Perry only nodded, still looking at Tom who had looked back down at the album.

"Yeah. Um, could I talk to you for a second, Hermione?" She looked at Tom, and he nodded with an uneasy smile, pulling the book off her lap so she could stand.

"Of course, lead the way." Perry stood aside so the teen could pass her and enter the red and gold bedroom. It was identical to her old room, and the bookcase was crammed, just as hers had been. She felt at home among the familiar colors and setting. A small white kitten was curled up on the foot of the bed, and Perry sat down next to it and stroked its milky fur. Hermione sat down at the desk while wondering what her new acquaintance wanted to discuss in private.

"Look, I'm just going to start," Perry started, still rubbing the belly of the purring cat, who's red and gold striped collar read Yvonne. "I don't know you very well and I apologize for prying into your private business, but I just want to warn you about Riddle. It just strikes me as odd that he's playing house with a Gryffindor who's just popped out of no where." Hermione felt a smile tug the corners of her lips upward.

"Don't worry, I know exactly what I'm doing, though I appreciate the warning." Perry looked up suspiciously, her hair falling into her sad eyes.

"Don't underestimate him. He's like the Prince of Slytherin. Weird things happen around him. Anything he does benefits him somehow. Is there anything major he could gain from you? Powerful lineage, wealthy family perhaps?" Hermione averted her eyes, shaking her head.

"I'm a broke orphan who has no friends. All I can offer him is understanding." Perry bit her lip and scratched Yvonne's ears.

"Sorry, this is just random. Everything's upside down now, that's all." She sighed.

"I know what you mean. When I lost my parents my friends flipped out and caused a lot of trouble," Hermione responded calmly. Perry looked up from the purring cat, surprised to have someone understand. "If you ever need to talk I'm right next door," she added.

"Thank you. And just promise me that you'll watch your back, okay? He makes me nervous."

"Of course. I'll talk to you later." She nodded and Hermione left the room to find Tom making more sandwiches. She sat down on the counter next to his cutting board, reveling in the relaxing smell of bacon.

"What was that about?" he asked softly, spreading butter across a slice of bread.

"She just needed someone to talk to." He nodded vaguely.

"She tried to turn you against me, didn't she?"

"A little paranoid, Mr. Riddle?" He dropped the knife on the board and stepped back, scowling at her.

"Just answer the damn question, Hermione." She avoided his piercing stare and stole a piece of bacon from the board.

"Yes, she did." For a second he looked ready to send some hexes, but he took a deep breath and resumed cooking. "You shouldn't worry, Tom."

"Figures, everyone judges and never looks beyond the surface. 'Riddle doesn't have feelings! Riddle only cares about himself. Riddle's out for all he can steal,'" he spat, handing her the finished sandwich. "It just pisses me off."

"You have to admit that for a while that's who you were Tom. You shouldn't blame them for believing the front you put up." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "But they'll see, won't they? They'll see they're wrong soon enough." He sighed, admitting defeat.

"How are you always right, Mione? I've known you for three says, and you haven't been wrong once."

"I'm only right because I've read the last line of the book."

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A/N: Tom makes you cry, doesn't he? You just want to squeeze him. But he'll be happy very soon! And Perry will learn she's wrong very soon! Sorry you were kind of mean in this chapter Perry, you're in the 12th a lot! Teaser?

"Malfoy, long time no see."

Don't you love that teaser? Ha, you all must be wondering how Malfoy comes into this. He's dead right? Smirk I'll see you all later. Tootles! And REVIEW! And read A Well-Kept Secret!

Final word count: 2922. (LONG!)