AN: Wow, guys! Thank you so much for the awesome reviews and favorites. You all rock. For this story, I do hope to stray away from most other Tomione fics out there (all of those time travel fics start to look the same after a while, don't they?) and hopefully this one mixes it up a bit. P.S.: The Task is definitely a DarkTom fic (and maybe even a dark Hermione fic...hinthint). This is a quick update and the others probably won't be as speedy, but I should update at least 2-3 times per week. Thanks for reading!

Dumbledore led them out of the office, down several winding halls and the moving staircases until they reached the Great Hall. Just outside the great oak doors he turned back to look at Hermione. She stared up at him with wide brown eyes, as if they'd just taken a very confusing trip and she had no idea how she would ever get around without him.

"This is the Great Hall, Miss Granger. Inside all the way on the right is the Slytherin table, where you may sit with your housemates," he said. "I will see you tomorrow in Transfiguration. Good luck!"

He opened the doors and stood back to let her pass, but she stood rooted to the spot for a moment. Before her the hall was filled with happy students, shouting and chatting and piling food on their plates. The last time she'd seen this hall it had been a battle zone, filled with jets of green and red light, screams, blood, his voice...

"Don't worry, Miss Granger," Dumbledore whispered at the petrified look on her face. "You'll be just fine."

Well, yes. But that wasn't why she was scared.

However, she nodded and smiled at him shakily. "Thank you, Professor."

Hermione moved past him and let the shy new girl façade peel away, glancing around the hall and finding the Slytherins quickly. She started toward them, although the table of red-and-gold on the opposite side of the hall was calling to her.

As she walked toward the table she assessed all the people sitting there. There was Abraxas Malfoy, Regulus Black, Vincent Crabbe Sr., Gregory Goyle Sr., Felix Dolohov, Ernie Johnson, Elfaba Wictz, and a number of other faces she unfortunately didn't remember from the 1943 yearbook she had spent hours poring over in preparation (but then, she had concentrated on the Gryffindors, who she thought she'd be getting to know by now). And of course, there was Tom Riddle, sitting in the midst of the few Slytherins she could name like a king surrounded by his subjects.

Or a Dark Lord.

She had to remind herself as she made her way toward them not to hex that deceptively handsome face into oblivion, not to pounce him while his head was turned the other way, as he smiled charmingly at the fools around him as if he wasn't a murderer already- Stop it!

She took a deep breath and sat at the end of the table, on the opposite side of Riddle and his cronies where only the Slytherins surrounding her could cast her questioning looks. At the front of the hall where the professors all ate Headmaster Dippet stood, clapping his hands for attention. Unlike Dumbledore, who commanded attention effortlessly, it took Dippet a few minutes to get the students to calm down.

Hermione smiled behind her pumpkin juice.

"Everyone, quiet down please! Quiet down!" Seeing that the majority was silent, he continued, "We have a new student tonight here at Hogwarts, who has come all the way from Beauxbatons in France. Her name is Hermione Granger and she has already been sorted into Slytherin-" There was a general mix of cheers and boos at this, followed by several heads at her new table turning to stare at her blatantly. "Please treat her with kindness and respect during her first days at Hogwarts, and make this new student feel right at home-" At this point his voice was drowned out as the students lost attention and returned to their conversations, talking animatedly to each other. Eventually Dippet gave into defeat and sank back down, flushing.

"So, you're Hermione Granger, huh?" a black girl with long hair and an upturned nose said across from her.

"Yes," Hermione replied, extending her hand. "And you are?"

"Meredith Smith," she said sniffily, not taking Hermione's hand, which she let drop to the table emptily. "I've never heard of any Grangers before. What are you, a Mudblood?"

And here we go.

"As a matter of fact, I am," Hermione said coolly, her face expressionless as Meredith's quickly contorted with disgust. "Do you have a problem with that, Smith?"

Meredith's eyes narrowed at the food on her plate, which she was staring at intently now, but she simply pressed her lips together and pretended Hermione wasn't there. Fine with me, Hermione thought, her eyes flickering around the rest of the table, whose occupants hadn't taken note of the exchange and already lost interest in her.

Excellent.

With only five minutes left until dinner was officially over half the hall was vacant and the Slytherin table only had three students remaining, not including herself. Tom Riddle, that Elfaba girl who was pretty but had an annoying air about her, and some third year boy with a bad case of acne. Hermione wasn't sure what to do. She knew how to get to the dungeons, but that would look suspicious since she shouldn't know where anything was. Plus, she didn't know the password.

Just as she was mulling over this new predicament Dumbledore and Slughorn arrived. Slughorn looked as round and jovial as ever, Dumbledore was calm and collected next to him.

Behind them all, Tom Riddle's eyes snapped up to watch Dumbledore.

"Hello again, Miss Granger," Dumbledore introduced. "This is Professor Slughorn, your Head of House."

"Nice to meet you, Professor," Hermione said, shaking Slughorn's pudgy hand. But with so many people around – especially Dumbledore – she didn't dare send a thought into his head. That would have to wait until later.

"Likewise, Miss Granger! I look forward to your performance in Potions," Slughorn said smilingly. "Now, as I understand it, you need some assistance around the school."

"Well, yes but-"

"Wonderful! I know the perfect man for the job-"

"Horace, why not have Miss Longbottom show Miss Granger around?" Dumbledore suggested.

Slughorn frowned. "Miss Longbottom is in Gryffindor. I'm sure a Slytherin would be much more helpful to her, seeing as they'd be part of her house." Now he turned to Hermione. "Don't you agree, Miss Granger?"

Oh great, she was cornered. She knew whatever – or whoever – Slughorn was suggesting couldn't be a good idea if Dumbledore was against it, but she didn't have a choice now. Hating that wretched Sorting Hat, she reluctantly said, "I suppose, Professor."

Dumbledore sighed.

"Wonderful!" Slughorn boomed, looking down at her approvingly. "Tom, m'boy, would you come here?"

Wait, what? Tom Riddle? Oh no, no, no, no. That is not okay. She couldn't be escorted around by the Dark Lord, for Godric's sake! She glared daggers at the back of Slughorn's head for a second before smoothing her expression into one of faint interest – but inside she was all fury. What an idiot! He was completely trashing her plan!

"Of course, Professor," she heard a smooth baritone say from numerous feet away, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.

I will kill you, Horace Slughorn.

When Riddle – Riddle! – had arrived before them Slughorn turned back to Hermione and threw a huge arm across the teenage Dark Lord's shoulders, making him stumble slightly and blink those dark eyes in surprise. Dumbledore was expressionless.

He probably wanted to have a go at Slughorn, too.

"Miss Granger, this is the Head Boy Tom Riddle. He is an excellent student and has been the top of his class ever since his first year. If you need any help in your classes, I'm sure he would be happy to assist you. Wouldn't you, Tom?"

'Tom', who wasn't even looking at her but discreetly studying Dumbledore, met Slughorn's gaze briefly and smiled. "Of course, Professor," he murmured silkily.

Liar.

"Now, I know this is a large school," Slughorn continued painstakingly, "but Tom here will take you to all your classes for the first few days so that you don't get lost. I'm sure you two will get along swimmingly."

Oh, someone will be swimming with the fishies all right, Hermione thought menacingly. On the outside though, she smiled too.

"Well, I bid you two good night," Slughorn concluded. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Granger."

Before they left Dumbledore said, "Goodnight Miss Granger." He shot an indecipherable look at Riddle and nodded politely. "Mr. Riddle."

Looking around them, Hermione suddenly realized they were the only two left in the hall. She forced herself to stay calm. There was no reason to panic. Sure, he'd already murdered an innocent girl and opened the Chamber of Secrets, but he was also pulling off an act. On the surface he was a charming school boy, top of his class and easy on the eyes, but on the inside Hermione knew he was twisted, dark. Ugly.

He met her eyes. They were brown and doe-like.

She couldn't get a read on his. They were blank, soft velvet and entrancing as a black hole – they sucked you right in, but didn't let you out… He's a Leglimens! she remembered and looked away. If she had to spend any time at all with him she preferred to get it over with fast and not mess up any other parts of her plan. She wasn't even supposed to look at Tom Riddle, as the Dumbledore of her time had severely instructed, and here she was–

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hermione," Riddle said, smiling a close-lipped smile and holding out his hand for her to shake.

"You also, Mr. Riddle," Hermione said, not showing a hint of the malice brewing behind closed doors inside her, and gave her his hand. He didn't shake it however, but lifted it to those lips that weren't chalky or cruel at all, and gazed up at her through his long lashes as he did it. So sly. So smooth. So… manipulative.

She looked away, not seeing the flash of surprise on his face.

He straightened, letting her go. She resisted the urge to wipe her hand off on her skirt.

"Call me Tom, please." He smiled at her again. "Now if you'll follow me I'll take you to the Slytherin common room where your dorm is."

She nodded and he led them out of the hall, walking with an easy grace and ramrod-straight posture. As they navigated the giant castle, taking twists and turns she already knew by heart Hermione thought of ways to get out of this terrible situation. She couldn't ask him to totally ignore Slughorn's request and leave her to find her classes herself, that would just make her seem strange and probably draw his attention. Maybe if she stayed silent, she thought hopefully, he would think her boring and leave her alone after this was all over.

"You are from Beauxbatons," he said eventually, not a question but a statement.

"Yes."

"Your accent is…subtle." He glanced at her swiftly, analyzing her face for any shifts of emotion but saw none. She simply shrugged and said, "I suppose."

He looked ahead of them again. She was glad. "What do you think of Hogwarts so far?"

"It's nice enough, but I haven't seen much of it yet," she said, the exact thing she said to the Sorting Hat.

"Understandably," he agreed, nodding.

Inside she let out a sigh of relief. They were almost there and soon all this would be behind her and Tom Riddle would see that she was just a witch. Not at all special. Muggleborn, in fact.

"Well, here we are," he said, coming to a stop before a long stone wall. "The password is pure-blood." Hermione bit back a scoff – how typical – and just as he said it the wall slid back to reveal the Slytherin common room, which was bedecked in leather couches, dark wood paneling, and green and silver furnishings. It was very industrial-looking for the '40s, she thought as they entered.

It was mostly empty inside since it was so late, sans the two fifth years playing Wizard's chess in the corner. Riddle came to a stop before two staircases going in opposite directions. "This is the common room, as you can see," he said. "You can hang out here, do homework, chat with friends…whichever. This staircase on the right-" he gestured gracefully. "-leads to the boy's dorms. The one on the left is for the girls obviously. Do you have any questions?"

Quickly, she tried to think of something a new student might ask. The best she could come up with was "Do you sleep in the boy dormitory too, since your Head Boy?"

He raised a brow at that and she pretended not to notice, examining the room around them. Why the hell did she ask him where he slept? She could've asked anything else! He probably thought she had a crush on him and wanted to keep track of him or something. Great.

"No, Head Boy and Head Girl have their own private dormitory. Anything else?"

She glanced at him, looked away, and shook her head.

"I will see you tomorrow morning, outside the common room at eight o' clock sharp for breakfast and to escort you to your classes." Not a question, or even an invitation, Hermione noted – just an order. "Is that clear Hermione?" he added, more sharply.

She looked at him for the first time since in the Great Hall, expecting to see anger or even impatience staining his aristocratic features, but he looked as impassive and calm as ever. Strange… "Crystal, Mr. Riddle," she said coolly, perhaps a bit icily, and averted her eyes again. That angered him. Why wouldn't the insolent girl look at him?

He narrowed his eyes at her and Hermione knew she had made a mistake. No one could see them back here, especially not those two students playing chess, and the Dark Lord had always been very temperamental, even in her time. What was his anger like when he was an adolescent?

However, he didn't whip out his wand and cast a Crucio! at her. Instead he simply leaned in close to her, so close they were breathing the same air and she smelled his scent, which was rich like chocolate and wood and made her heady. She pulled her head back, trying to put some space between them, but it didn't help seeing as it just made him seem taller and all the more intimidating.

She gasped when she felt one of his fingers drawing down her throat slowly, the rest curling around the back of her neck. Was he going to choke her to death?

Staring deep into her suddenly wide eyes, he whispered, "You know, you're awfully pretty, but that smart mouth-" Here he squeezed the back of her neck so sharply she yelped. "-might get you into trouble."

She swallowed. "S-sorry."

His grip loosened from its death grip and he smiled slightly, but it was not at all like the smile he'd given her a few minutes ago. This one was dangerous. "Your pulse is racing," he said, a look of angelic concern plaguing his features. "Are you feeling alright, Hermione?"

She shut her eyes, opting not to answer.

His jaw twitched. She wasn't looking at him again, not even responding! What was her problem? No one ever ignored him.

"Besides, I thought I told you to call me Tom," he said, his voice soft and sweet again and not at all betraying the anger he'd held a second ago.

She opened her eyes. That was better.

"Right," Hermione said, smiling shakily and rubbing her neck when he'd released her.

He raised a dark brow.

She cleared her throat. "Tom," she added, hating him inside. Damn Dumbledore for telling her not to interfere with him. Damn Slughorn for making her in the first place! What she really wanted to do was curse him into a world of pain…

He smiled and took her hand again, starting to bring it to his mouth but then changing his mind and putting his lips on her cheek instead. They felt smooth and tickled her skin when he spoke. "Goodnight, Hermione. You're going to feel right at home here." He pulled away and watched with satisfaction as the girl shivered at his words. Much, much better.

Shuddering, Hermione made a quick escape up the stairs to her new dormitory, not looking back once although she felt Riddle's dark eyes on her even after she shut the door. She clutched her ratcheting heart and groaned.

Her plan was fucked.

AN: Uh-oh, looks like Hermione is in trouble with Mr. Riddle already. Tsk tsk, Miss Granger, when will you ever learn? ;) Drop a review if you have any ideas on what that dashing Dark Lord was thinking...