AN: The Task is officially on HPAFF everyone! I'm not moving the story or anything, but I figured a back-up couldn't hurt (just in case). Also, huge thanks to those of you who reviewed and faved! I'm so glad you're all still on board with the story and enjoy the OCs so much. Below are answers to some good questions from reviewers.

LivinJgrl123 asked whether or not Tom and Hermione are officially bound together since 'THAT' happened in the last chapter, and if Tom can use Hermione's special magic. The answer is no, they're not (yet), and if it was unclear they didn't have sex either (sorry!). Hermione also doesn't actually have any special magic; when Dumbledore gave her the task he taught her how to utilize ancient magick (like the Founder's) in a method that can defy most magical laws depending on how powerful the wizard using it is (ie: the only food Dumbledore can create is a gingersnap cookie and just that took him 'decades of practice'). And when Tom tricked Hermione into triggering a magic binding she was able to subconsciously use his magick instead of the Founder's since he is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. SO super long explanation paragraph short – no, as long as Tom doesn't learn how to tap into magick he won't be able to do any tricks like Hermione, althoughhe can use her regular magic and vice versa. More on that in this chapter.

Mione rocks… This doesn't really count as a spoiler so I'm just going to say it: there won't be any love connections between Abraxas and Hermione. He's just curious about his Lord's interest in her. Plus, she's kind of part of the 'in-crowd' of Slytherin now. And he's a man whore.

em asked about Professor Chanté, the Elder Wand, and Meredith. I promise, there's a reason for everything! It will all make sense soon and you're completely in the right for being suspicious of Chanté. He's up to…something. Also, Hermione doesn't seem too concerned about the Elder Wand right now, but it makes a brief appearance in the chapter. And yes, she's going to be in uber trouble if someone finds out about that little murderous detour in Germany… Meredith is spooky, I agree. AND YES, I LOVE YOUR REVIEW! XD

OK, longest AN ever. *high fives for whoever actually read through the whole dang thing* Anyway, read on, my little Tomione whores! Read for your lives!

Hermione woke up with a crick in her neck. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, joints popping as she scooted up the empty couch. Wait, empty? She frowned. Where was Tom? Unhindered magic crept down her spine in a nervous dance and she brushed back her sleep-knotted hair, looking around the Room of Requirement quickly.

She found Tom Riddle leaning against one of the massive bookcases. His back was to her, but she could make out a glint of gold winking at her from between his fingers. Slytherin's Locket, her mind immediately supplied.

He was only partly dressed, black trousers hanging low on his hips, the snowy skin of his long back unblemished and tantalizing. His dark wavy hair had been combed and parted to the side; it looked like he freshened up when she was sleeping. What time is it? Hermione wondered, checking her watch, and was flabbergasted to see it was almost eleven o'clock. They were late!

She cursed and shot to her feet, searching for her stockings in the tangle of blankets and robes, casting a Laundering Charm on her clothes once she yanked them on. Hermione wished she had a brush, which appeared on the coffee table a second after her thought had formulated. She snatched it up and forced it through her snarled curls in brutal yanks, whipping around when she heard a low snicker.

"Don't you dare laugh!" she snapped, eyes flashing. "Why didn't you wake me up? We're three hours late!"

"Actually, we're not late at all," he replied, still amused. "School has been cancelled."

Hermione stopped brushing. She stared at him, nonplussed. "What do you mean?"

"When I woke up and went down to breakfast – don't give me that look, I was going to come back for you before first period – Headmaster Dippet announced that all classes are cancelled for today. There's been a disturbance."

"What disturbance?"

He gave her a pointed look. "Obviously, if I knew I wouldn't have said quote 'disturbance' unquote," he said drily. "Dippet didn't explain, but the professors seemed upset, especially our hometown hero Dumbydore."

Hermione slowly sat down, thinking. "The last time he cancelled school it was because of the essences," she pondered aloud. "Do you think it has to do with them?"

"That's what I was thinking. They might have spread or gotten larger." When she started to stand again he added, "Don't bother, there's nothing we can do about it now. No one is allowed outside of the castle, much less free to roam the halls, and the professors are guarding all exits. Until nighttime we can't do much."

She grimaced. She hated just sitting here when something horrible may have happened outside, something caused by her.

"Everyone has been sent to their common room for the day," he continued, returning his dark gaze to Slytherin's Locket. "If we leave we won't be able to meet again until tomorrow."

"What about food?" she asked, for the Room of Requirement didn't supply it. Manifestation defied Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

"I brought some back from the kitchens." He nodded at a bag on the coffee table. "It's in there."

He thinks of everything, doesn't he? Hermione thought, half enviously, half impressed. She opened the knapsack to find a tin of finger foods he must have had the house elves put together. She ate some carrots, watching him thoughtfully. He looked up from the Locket.

Tom cocked a brow at her stare, pocketing it. "Enjoying the view?"

She rolled her eyes. "Your surpassing amount of conceit never fails to astound."

"But you didn't deny it, did you?"

She lay back down on the couch, where she couldn't see him laughing at her. A moment later he reappeared, leaning over the armrest with a sliver of a smile and black eyes that told a thousand lies and hid even more secrets. Hermione looked away. Liar, liar...

"You forgot to brush the other half of your hair," he remarked, trailing a finger up her neck. She saw him smirk out of the corner of her eye at her shiver. "Or do you usually wear it this way?"

"Oh shut it, you're just trying to irritate me." Hermione sat up and grabbed the hairbrush off the end table. "Not everyone can have naturally 'lustrous locks,' you know."

"True, but I like yours." He snagged one of her curls, twisting it contemplatively around a long finger. His eyes met hers and he sent a trickle of magic through the strands, where it went straight to her head and made her nerves jolt. "It's wild."

"Better yet, it's very easy to grab," he said, leaning close enough his lips hovered just a breath over hers. Teasing. "Untamed." The hairbrush clattered to the floor. "And soft, too."

"You…like…grabbing…my hair?" she said, breathlessly.

"You like to grab mine." He bit the corner of her lip lightly. "I recall you pulling it very tightly last night actually..."

She pulled back, glaring at him, but the threatening look was ruined by the blush on her cheeks. "Would you quit mocking me?"

He grinned. "No, you're too amusing angry, like an ill-tempered kitten."

"Again with the cat analogy?"

"It's an accurate comparison."

Staring at him, Hermione was sorely tempted to forget all her worries for a while, to forget about the essences and Professor Chanté and Meredith Smith. As long as they were there and all of her homework was finished maybe she could…relax a little? With him. Or was that just the magic talking? Speaking of, why wasn't she as angry as she should've been about being bound to him? She hardly even minded that the school day had been cancelled, because it was less time they had to waste spent away from each other. Hermione shook her head, frustrated. What am I thinking? I sound like a lovesick idiot.

"Why do I like being with you so much?" she said, voicing her thoughts. "Is it the bond?"

"Yes." A look of self-satisfaction surfaced at her admission. "It's the most intimate connection in the magical world, more binding than blood and becoming stronger with time. The longer you are with me, the less inclined you'll be to leave."

That explained why it was so strong now after they'd kissed and…done other things, rationalized Hermione. Still, she felt terribly misinformed. And a little terrified. "Does it work both ways?" she said curiously. "Do you feel this way...toward me?"

He paused.

"Yes," he finally answered, watching her closely. He was wary of sharing this information with her. It was something she could use against him, if she needed to.

If she could.

"So it's practically insatiable. This…"

"Desire."

To him, it was both a weakness and a strength. He got Hermione's power and she got his; however, he could hardly leave her side. He wouldn't let her leave his for longer than absolutely necessary. The idea of separation was unappealing, of not being able to watch her every move and protect his magic, a large part of which would soon reside inside her – but he couldn't jeopardize his reputation. Besides, eventually they would leave Hogwarts and he could do whatever he wished. Hermione did not ever have to leave his side, if he wanted, and she would help him become the most powerful wizard the world had ever seen.

She'd finally given into him and the victory of so hard a conquering was delicious, especially when it was her taste on his tongue... literally.

"Can I touch you?" Hermione blurted out beside him.

Startled, he stared at her with a furrowed brow. "What?"

"Can I…can I touch you?" she repeated, more timidly.

"Why?"

"I want to. I think." Her forehead wrinkled, as she did not understand the sudden desire to touch him herself – but Tom recognized the desperateness in her eyes. It was the bond, itching to be fulfilled in whatever way it could, and Hermione was finally feeling the side effects.

"So can I?" she said nervously, fingers twitching uselessly in her lap. Asking for his permission.

His smile was reminiscent to that of the Cheshire cat's. "Of course you can," he purred.

Hermione blushed. How strange, that she should feel anxious to run her hands over the skin of a man filled with so much darkness, to feel reassured by his approval, to feel furious yet more peaceful than a Calming Draught, to want to bathe in both their magic forever and ever. Cautiously, she reached for his face and he watched her intently, Cimmerian eyes enigmatic and emotions reserved for safekeeping. Angels had faces like this, with high cheekbones and pouty lips, and eyelashes so long they cast shadows in the dead of night.

Her hands slowed, carefully tracing a tiny white slit below his brow. It was invisible from more than a foot away. "What's that from?" she said.

He frowned. "What?"

"You have a scar here." She rubbed her thumb over it and the crease between his brows went away too, like a wrinkle smoothed out of porcelain clay. "I've never noticed before."

"It's just a scar," he muttered. He wasn't going to tell her where he got it either, but when her brown eyes implored his words started to…slip out. "It's stupid. Mrs. Cole was throwing firewood in the chimney and I was sitting quite close, even though she told us to stay back," he said, remembering how cold it was that February and how cozy the hearth had seemed. "A spark flew out and nipped me." And how the other children had laughed and laughed...

"Mrs. Cole?"

"The head of the orphanage." He watched her raptly. Would she laugh at him now? Sneer and mock him for living with a bunch of lowly Muggles?

"How old were you?"

"Four."

"That explains why it's so small," she murmured, finally continuing her little trek on his skin. Tom looked all the more hauntingly alluring up close and she counted two freckles on his neck, which along with the scar made him seem more human. More touchable.

For the first time, she really wondered how he could possibly transform from the young wizard in front of her into a snakelike, red-eyed thing in the future. And what did he do over the summers when he was forced to go back to the orphanage? Were the other children afraid of him? Did he do chores? What did he wear? Did he count the days until school started again?

Hermione's kiss was refreshingly innocent, not demanding or fast, but patient and sweet as candied sugar. He felt like a lazy snake basking in the sun under all that undivided attention.

His breath washed into her mouth in a quiet sigh and Hermione pulled back, watching in fascination as he immediately shut his eyes, seeming to expect her to touch him again. His eyes didn't move behind his eyelids, which looked extremely pale against those ebony lashes and dark brows. He could have been a statue for all of his unearthly stillness.

She trailed her hands down his chest, committing the dips and contours to memory as she moved along. The room was pleasantly quiet around them and Tom's eyes grew hooded when she reached his navel and went past it, idly walking her fingers down the spritz of hair that disappeared underneath his trousers. There, he took her hand and pressed it firmly.

She looked up, breath caught, and he flicked her bottom lip with his thumb. "You haven't given fellatio before, have you?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "N-no," she stuttered.

His lip curled, he liked the idea of being her first. Of teaching her. "I'll show you how to," he murmured. "We might as well make use of all the time we have on our hands after all."

She flushed and he grinned, increasing the pressure on her hand until she felt his length prominently, hardening under her touch. Flustered, Hermione looked down and realized Tom was a bit larger than average, as she could already see the outline of him through his trousers. How hadn't she noticed before?

"Don't be shy, darling," he said, tapping her nose like he thought her nervousness was cute. "Undress me."

Her face was positively flaming. "Oh, um, alright."

He relaxed against the couch. Carefully, she unzipped his trousers and pulled them off along with his boxers. His hand weaved through her hair as she stripped him down until he was naked as the David. Which he really did look like, by the way... Oh Merlin, I'm going to hell.

"What now?" Hermione asked, as if this was Potions and he was walking her through a particularly challenging step. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her at the analogy, but died fast when she looked back at Tom's erect member. What had those books on sex education said again? No matter, they were all but totally useless to her now. I knew I should've swiped the Parvati twins' secret stash of eroticas! Blast!

"Take me with one hand."

She gulped and cautiously did so, glancing up at him searchingly – such an innocent look scraped his insides down to bone with hunger, especially when she nibbled her lip in worry. She looked so…vulnerable. Ripe for the taking. "I'm going to just-" Control you. "-show you," he told her, voice a shade rougher.

"Alright."

Hand still buried in her hair, he brought her head down until her lips were a breath away from his aching length and stiffened when she hesitantly took him in. Hermione had never put her mouth on any man before. Experimentally, she darted her tongue out against the twitching member between her lips.

"More," he growled and Hermione breathed through her nose as she bent down, taking in more of him. His hand clenched her hair and he guided her, pulling her head up and down his member slowly, going further inside her mouth with each stroke. He didn't let go even when she caught on, loving the control too much to pull away. He watched through half-lidded eyes as she worked him, hollowing her cheeks and twisting her tongue around when he told her to. He held her hair - not so it would be out of her way, but so he could see.

She worked his shaft, moaning lightly, and he cursed under his breath at the sensations it induced. His stomach tightened. "Almost there," he hissed, Parseltongue subconsciously flying off his tongue. "Keep going."

For some reason, knowing she was the one undoing him gave Hermione an extreme sense of satisfaction. It aroused her, too, and when Tom tensed, going rigid, she knew what was to come. And she wanted to see him lose that impeccable self-control just once, even if it only lasted for a few seconds...

"Swallow it all and suck hard," he ordered raggedly, digging the fingers of his free hand into the couch tightly, and she hummed, licking the sensitive head once before he came, a stream of foreign hisses whipping out his mouth. She went down as far as she could go and drank all of his release, eyes solely on his mouth, parted and bearing teeth like an animal in a silent snarl.

He finished, chest heaving, and held her there a moment longer. Then he slowly pulled back. Hermione's lips came off him with a pop and she rubbed her neck gingerly. "Kiss me," he said, tilting her head up, and she crawled over to pluck her swollen lips against his. He smirked.

"You did well, darling," he said and she couldn't help but smile, blushing a little. Her magic chittered merrily. "Are you hungry?"

"A bit," Hermione admitted and he sat up, Summoning the bag of treats he'd brought and pulling on his boxers before going through it. He took out a cheese sandwich and split it, putting one half down and bringing the other up to her. She blinked, surprised, and he nudged the bread at her mouth.

"Go on," he said, smiling. "Eat."

He wanted to feed her? Hermione laughed a little but took a bite, leaning back against the couch as she chewed. He watched her, eyes fasted to every shift of weight and fidget she made, and when she was finished he brought the sandwich back again, inching it into her mouth.

"Is it good?"

She nodded, cheeks warming. "Yes."

That dark glint in his eyes augmented. "Yes, Tom," he corrected.

Her blush deepened. "Yes, Tom."

"You're thinking hard about something," he said after a moment, tilting his head inquiringly at her. "What is it?"

"Ho-how did you know that?"

"Your nose crinkled."

"Oh." She touched her nose, frowning. Did it always do that? "Well, I was thinking about Slytherin's Locket," she eventually said. "What do you need it for? I mean, it's just a necklace, isn't it?"

He didn't answer immediately and she waited, wondering if he would tell her the truth or not. Hope welled up in her, unable to be stifled, and she watched him closely as he mulled over his response.

"It belonged to my mother," he finally replied. Disappointed, she thought he wasn't going to continue, but a minute later he spoke again. "It was passed down through her family since the very first class of wizards, generation to generation, and…if she hadn't sold it it would have come to me."

"Who was she?" Hermione asked. "Your mother?"

"Merope Gaunt." Lower, he added, "She was a Squib." Now she would laugh surely, scoff at his disgusting heritage and leave again. He remembered the last time she left and terrible, righteous fury welled in him at the unpleasent memory.

"But you come from a powerful family," Hermione said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"One side of my family is notable. The other," he snarled, "is filthy trash."

Hermione's heart sped up. This was a line, one of the limits he'd enforced and would either let her past or hurt her for trying to in the first place. Quietly, she said, "Your father is a Muggle."

"Yes." A tight-lipped smile joined his handsome features, staining them. Tom picked up the sandwich again, now limp and slightly soggy. "Eat, Hermione. Enough questions."

"But I-"

"Eat."

She flinched at his caustic tone, taking another bite and eating it quickly. "I'm full!" Hermione said, before he could bring the sandwich back and producing a rare scowl from him.

"You hardly ate anything," he snipped.

"So?"

"You didn't eat dinner yesterday. At least eat…eat something else." He picked up the bag and grabbed a biscuit, shoving it at her. "Here."

"I'm not a child," she muttered petulantly, but took the biscuit and started chewing. Stupid, overly observant Dark Lord…

Tom lifted her wrist, glancing at her watch, and her skin tingled slightly at the contact. She fidgeted. "We can go down in a few hours," he said, breaking the quiet. "The professors should be in bed by then and the only person patrolling the corridors will be that klutz Gregovitch. Even the Prefects have been excused from their duties."

"We're not going back to the Forbidden Forest, are we?" Hermione said worriedly.

"No, it's too dangerous." He leaned back and flipped out Slytherin's Locket again, running his thumb over the gilded surface thoughtfully. "The essences react violently to you for some reason."

"So what are we going to do?"

"We'll go to Dippet's office and have a look around. He usually sneaks off with the librarian Mme. Wiber at about nine-thirty so it will be empty," he said. "He keeps a journal, too, and there should be something in it about what happened today. There may even be information on book essences in his office."

She perked up at that. Of course! Why didn't she think of it? The Headmaster's Office would be filled with all sorts of valuable information neither the Restricted Section nor Room of Requirement could ever come up with. They were bound to find something useful there.

"We just have to make sure Dumbledore doesn't see us," he added disdainfully. "I have no idea why, but he's been watching me like a hawk ever since he returned from his 'heroic battle' against Grindelwald. He suspects me of something."

Hermione tensed at the mention of Dumbledore. "He…he does?" she said, warily.

"Yes. He won't catch us again though," he said, catching her look and sending a wave of calming magic toward her. Hermione's taut body instantly went lax despite her frantic thoughts. "We'll use Disillusionment Charms and wait until he's gone in his office before going out."

"Right," she agreed, although that wasn't what she was worried about. She needed to change the subject. The last thing she wanted was for the topic to broach 'the Mysterious Cloaked Figure.' "Are you, um, going to do anything with that?" Hermione said, stealthily trying to redirect their conversation and succeeding when his inquisitive eyes fell back on Slytherin's Locket.

"I do plan to put it to use," he said vaguely. An idea seemed to suddenly strike him and his lips pursed, eyes swivelling up to stare at her neck for a moment.

"What is it?" she said self-consciously.

"Oh nothing, I was just thinking…" He gently unhooked the small golden clasp of Slytherin's Locket. "How elegant this necklace would look on you."

"No."

"Why not?" He smiled, dazzlingly. "I can't find a place to properly store it anyway. What better safe-keeping could there be than my darling's long, lovely neck?"

"It's too expensive," Hermione insisted. "And what if Meredith sees?"

He shrugged. "Keep it tucked under your shirt. It won't be the first time she's been none the wiser." At her unchanging expression, he leaned closer and placed the cold chain around her throat. She heard it click at the nape of her neck and then the priceless locket was lying flat against her chest, gold and heavy with emerald pits and Tom Riddle's ancestry. "Think of it," he whispered, "as a token of my affection."

"I really can't-"

"I'm entrusting this to you," he said, touching the locket with a light hand. "Be careful not to lose it."

Hermione sighed.

"You're such a good girl." He kissed her and her thoughts were suddenly buffeted with a flurry of magic, irresistible and sweet like nectar. She blinked, dazed. "We only have a little time left alone, you know," he murmured.

Tom was right. They only had a little time left... She leaned forward and drew her tongue along the seam of his mouth, pressing her body against his more firmly. His hands rose, grasping her waist and moving her against him. She cupped his cheek. Insatiable desire, indeed.

His tongue snuck inside her mouth, quickly dominating the kiss, and he rolled them over so she was on her back, rolling his hips into hers. She moaned and twisted her hand in his thick hair, slipping the other between them and grasping his rigid length through his boxers. He pulled back so she could take him out and called on both their magic, bending it to his will as he flicked his wrist. Simultaneously, all the buttons on her shirt sprang off.

"Tom!" she hissed and he snickered.

"What? I'm practicing," he said, swiftly ripping off her bra in a way that shouldn't have been humanely possible and throwing it aside to join his shirt on the floor. Before she could puzzle this he had picked her up and captured one of her nipples in his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Her breath hitched.

One hand supported her back and she held onto the couch as he ground his length into her grip, switching breasts when she nearly went off the edge. She cried out when he bit her hard on the neck, drawing blood and moving to another expanse of her tan skin to make more cruel marks. He started grinding into her faster and his mouth met hers again, so harsh and demanding she couldn't keep up. She nearly ran out of oxygen and he pulled back, running his tongue over her beating throat as black dots skipped across her vision. His hand ran up and down her naked side greedily.

She felt like she was being possessed.

"Mine," Tom almost sang, sucking on the shell of her ear before releasing it. "Ruined for the rest... Now you'll never belong to anyone else." His low chuckle resonated through her entire body. Eyes, jet-black with lust and darkness, delightedly watched her writhe and buck under his hands. Blood glistened on his teeth.

Hermione gasped when he left another painful bite on her skin and his ecstasy increased at the sound. She knew this wasn't healthy, but she wanted it. Wanted him. More, more, more, more- Mouth latching back onto hers, he poured an electrifying stream of magic through her system, setting her body on fire and bursting her brain into flames. She clutched him like a starving fledgling, falling deeper down the black hole, and he hissed above her as she sent some of her magic spiraling back across their bond, speaking that strange serpentine language again. She arched up as he came, sinking his teeth into her shoulder like fangs, but their whirl winding magic glazed the pain with pleasure-

He fell down on top of her, panting, and Hermione waited for her dilated eyes to focus. That was nothing like last time, she thought, heart still pounding like it might explode out of her chest any minute now. The stickiness on her stomach was warm and trapped between them.

With some effort, she wriggled her arm free from under him and checked her watch. She grimaced. "Tom, it's almost nine-thirty," she said. "We have to get going."

He mumbled something into the cushions.

"I don't speak jibber jabber," she huffed, trying to shove him off her – but for all the success she made she might as well have been trying to push the Great Wall of China to Tokyo. "Oh come on! Are we going or what?"

"Give me a minute" came the muffled reply.

"To what?"

He glowered at her from behind what she supposed was his sex hair, which was sticking out from where she'd grabbed it numerous times – and indeed, very sexy. "Recuperate," he growled and she shut up, blushing.

His head flopped back down and he sighed. She struggled to reach her wand, which had fallen to the floor a few feet away. She tried to do what he had, calling on both their magic and willing it to come over to her. Her wand flew into her grasp easily and she cast a Scourgify on both of them, even Summoning his shirt to speed things along.

A minute later he still hadn't moved and she poked him again. Did he fall asleep?

"Recuperated yet?" she asked, smiling innocently when he sent her another death glare.

He sat up, grabbing his shirt from her and sliding it on. "The next time we do this I'm confiscating your watch," he grumbled, brushing his hair back into place with a careless swipe of his fingers. Hermione was dismayed to see it reassemble into perfect waves so quickly. Why couldn't her hair be that manageable?

He turned to her when he was finished and a smirk stretched his mouth. "Why don't you just look good enough to eat?" he commented, dragging a finger between her bare breasts.

Hermione slapped his hand away and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. "You destroyed my bra and shirt," she snapped. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"I'll fix it." Her robes flew over with a flick of his wand. He quirked a finger and the rips and frays seamed together, until her clothes were perfectly stitched and good as new. She put them on and stood, holding out her hand, which he took right before casting a Disillusionment Charm on the both of them.

They vanished from sight and Tom guided them out of the Room of Requirement, through the dead silent castle to the Headmaster's Office. They didn't see Gregovitch once, having only heard him lumber down a distant corridor once when they passed the library. Tom and Hermione waited beside one of the knights and not a minute later the staircase leading to the Headmaster's Office swirled, revealing Dippet stumbling down it in his nightgown. He whisked past them without a second glance, muttering something along the lines of "being late for Angy" before he disappeared around the bend of the corridor.

Tom lifted their Disillusionment Charms. "Stay here," he said, stepping into the open. "If you see Dippet come get me and we'll leave."

He strode up to the gargoyles, uttering "Never Neverland" and they slid back. Tom mounted the turning stairs. Within seconds, she was alone.

Hermione waited in the shadows for his return, tapping her foot anxiously. About ten minutes had gone by when suddenly a voice from behind her exclaimed "Hermione?"

She stiffened. Oh no, not him again! But alas, when she had turned around she found Professor Chanté striding toward her, pocketing his wand and glancing up and down the dim corridor for Gregovitch. "What are you doing out here?" he said once close enough, frowning at her.

"I was going to the library," Hermione lied. "I – uh – really wanted to get a book."

He shook his head disapprovingly. "I know you love to read, ma chérie, but you can always go to the library tomorrow." The feathery blue plume of his quill bobbed as he stuck it behind his ear, perfectly at home in his sunny gold locks. "I won't give you detention for being out of bed, but you've got to get back to your dorm. Something terrible has happened."

Hermione forced back a spark of annoyance at the pet name. Focusing on what he said, she inquired, "So there will be school tomorrow?"

"Yes." He frowned. "Speaking of, I didn't see you once in the Great Hall today. Have you been feeling well?"

Hermione felt uncomfortable. He'd noticed she wasn't there? Did that mean he watched her during meals? Ugh, why can't he fancy Augusta or Minerva! They'd love crap like this. "I'm perfectly fine," she said tartly. "I'll go back to my dorm on my own, professor."

"I didn't mean to scare you off yesterday," Professor Chanté said, oblivious to the hint she gave him to leave. "Now that we're here though, I must explain. I know you may harbor feelings or little crushes for boys of your age, but I promise they won't last, Hermione. Seventeen-year old boys don't know how to treat a young lady. I could take care of you." He advanced another foot. "We wouldn't have to tell anyone."

We wouldn't have to tell anyone. Was he crazy? And exactly when did she say she wanted to be with him anyway? Trying to be polite, she said, "I apologize, professor, but-"

"Hermione, please don't call me that," he sighed, grasping her shoulders.

She started at the touch. "Fine, Lucas," she said, quickly. Tom would be back here any second and she couldn't let Professor Chanté find out they were breaking into Dippet's office. "I'll think about it, but I-I really have to go!"

He beamed at her and stepped back, nodding. "OK, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow in class. Remember, if there's anything you ever need to get off your chest or talk about, you can come to me. I'm always here."

She didn't reply and her heart beat fast as he went back down the hall whence he'd come, the gem of light on the end of his wand finally swallowed by darkness a moment later. She forced herself to calm down. Tom would notice it if she was anxious and want to know what happened. He would hurt Professor Chanté badly if he found out about this... but Hermione couldn't have that, for the DADA position didn't become cursed until the '90s. She just had to let down her handsome, yet very weird teacher firmly, without anyone ever knowing he'd all but professed undying love to her.

Salazar.

Hermione looked up when Tom reappeared on the stairs. He came toward her and with surprise, she saw he had a book in his hand. "What is that?" she asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the cover.

"I found it in the back of Dippet's office. It's a book all about essences," he said, but held it out of her reach when she tried to take it. She frowned. "We'll go over it tomorrow," he explained at her look. "Dippet will be back soon and you have to get to your dorm before someone realizes you've been missing all day."

Someone already did, Hermione thought, grimly. "Oh alright," she relented. "Did you find out what happened today?"

His brow furrowed. "Hardly. All Dippet said in his journal was 'the Ministry must not return or I shall lose my position. This death must be hidden at all cost'," he quoted. "Quite melodramatic, as per usual with that ancient artifact."

"Death?" she echoed. "Of a student?"

"No, a dead student would be impossible to hide," he said instantly. "It'd be futile to try to cover something like that up."

But then who did die? Hermione thought, chilled. Eyeing him, she said, "Where did you say you found that book?"

"It was in a pile of banned texts. This one was outlawed in 1604. It's very Dark magic." He put said book away in his robes. "We'll meet tomorrow and take a look, but it's getting late now."

"Of course," she said, although she was disappointed they couldn't read it now. "I'll…I'll see you in the morning." He nodded.

But now Hermione hesitated, unwilling to leave after having been with him the entire day. Her magic had been an ever-present aura since she woke up, like a happily humming balm rubbed all over her skin. She knew those sensations would leave her as soon as they separated. Tom picked up on her reluctance and brushed his lips over hers. His felt like velvet.

"It's only a little while, darling," he murmured, speaking in that gentle voice he only used with her.

"I know, but still…" She kissed him once more before pulling away. "See you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

Tom watched her leave with his Locket, fingering the book in his robes. He'd read through half of it when she was waiting out here and found out the essences were much more than they seemed. Hermione, as their releaser, was entitled to them – and they were searching for her, like demons seeking out a vessel...

Like with everything else, he could use this to his advantage.

Hermione's magic faded to a slight buzz as the distance between her and Tom increased, but still remained strong. She stayed quiet as she tiptoed through the castle, not wanting to run into Gregovitch or Professor Chanté again.

A blur of black streaked across the hall.

Hermione froze. "Cat?" she whispered, eyes scouring what little light the torches mounted on the walls offered. "Wait, come back!"

At this, a pink nose darted into view, followed by a head of black fur with bottle glass green eyes and a scrawny body. The cat's tail swished above his body questioningly.

"What are you?" she said, not daring to move lest she scare him off.

The cat blinked at her.

"I mean obviously you're a cat, but are you a…death omen?" she said carefully.

The cat tilted his head at her and she was sure she was being silly, believing in Divination and stupid things like the practice of summoning the dead. Of course it was just a cat! It had no idea what she was saying, did it? She snorted, already berating herself, but her scoff cut short when the cat meowed and his back arched as he stretched toward her, head bobbing slowly in a…a nod?

"You can understand me," she said, stunned, and the cat nodded again. OK, so it was a death omen and spoke English. And most certainly nothing like Crookshanks. She pinched herself to be sure she wasn't dreaming.

Ouch.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione eyed the feline. "Alright, cat," she said slowly. "Show me who died here today."

The cat sprang to his paws and watched her through green slits. She took a step toward him and he scampered back a foot. She took another. He disappeared down the curve. Quickly, Hermione went down that hall to find the cat there waiting for her, his tail swishing through the air behind him patiently, and when he saw her he got up again and led them the rest of the way.

She followed him through the castle until they arrived at an exit door, which had surely been locked with protective wards and booby traps by a professor. Hermione wasn't sure if she could get through it unscathed this time. If a death had occurred, surely the staff had put up heavier protection, and there was no telling what would happen if she triggered them. For all she knew, they could explode like land mines at the prick of a finger.

When Hermione hesitated the cat skittered around her feet in a dizzying circle and his head nudged her ankle, urging her toward the door. "I can't go through it," she explained. "It's locked."

"Somebody out there?"

At the sound of Gregovitch's voice, Hermione acted fast, retreating into the outskirts of the corridor. The old caretaker hobbled down the hall not a moment later and his shaky hand, which always trembled from his arthritis, held out a lantern before him. He swept it back and forth, beams swishing up and down the walls in glowing splashes, and his discolored eyes gleamed alertly for troublemakers. Hermione waved her hands at the cat, urging it to get out of the way before Gregovitch ran right over it. It didn't move though, continuing to stare at her intently.

Hermione's jaw dropped when Gregovitch walked right through the cat, as if it was a phantom, and he continued right on down the hall grumbling. He hadn't seen anything.

That doesn't make sense, she thought, stepping out again and experimentally reaching down to pet the cat's head. It was solid. Even more intriguing, strange runes formed a crown embedded in his fur. What were those…?

She didn't have any time to further puzzle over this, however, because the cat wriggled out from under her hand and scampered over to the door again. She bit her lip and went over to it, and the cat waltzed through the door like it was made of smoke. Hermione took a deep breath and followed suit, a shocked gasp escaping her when she arrived outside.

Did the cat do that?

She couldn't ask though, because the cat was already trotting down a warbly path leading to the Forbidden Forest. Hermione hurried after it, trepidation making her heart sing a nervous song. This isn't a good idea. This isn't a good idea at all!

"Listen, I really can't go in there," she tried to explain, panting. "Where are you taking me?"

The cat didn't respond and surprised her by springing off the trail, scampering into darkness. Lumos! she nonverbally cast and lifted her lit wand, seeing the cat stop about twenty feet away from the Forbidden Forest, which was thick with what looked like smoke but were actually essences. His eyes glowed in the dark like neon lanterns. Hermione swallowed and steeled herself, stepping forward.

Her stomach rolled at what she found lying stone-still just behind the cat. It was a dead centaur and he had been mutilated. His sky blue eyes were open and unseeing, corded neck bent at a terrible angle while his long elegant legs had been folded unnaturally in some sort of sick version of origami.

"Who did this?" Hermione whispered and the cat rolled onto his back, bright eyes staring up above her. She followed the feline's gaze to see the essences swallowing half the sky, stirring like a gigantic storm cloud ready to throw out a bolt of lightning. She shuddered. "But why?"

She looked down at the cat for an answer – he was gone.

Hairs on the back of her neck prickling, Hermione took one last look at the centaur. A maggot wriggled across his unseeing eye and she thought she saw it twitch under her gaze. Shaking her head, she tore her eyes away and ran, far from the Forbidden Forest. Far, far away from the dark.

AN: Hmmm… I wonder what Tom will think of Hermione's little escapade? I wonder what you all think of the chapter? (ahem, pretty please review.) Thanks for reading! MUAHMUAH *sloppy kisses* D