Authors note:

Hey! Just letting you know that this fic is cross-pared on ao3 and wattpad.

Cynthia Black was the sort of person that did not care what others thought in the slightest. She was unabashedly herself. She was abrupt and rude and there seemed to be no difference between her thoughts and her words. Hermione liked her. "Your hair is absolutely abhorrent Hermione" Cynthia admonished that morning. Hermione had only met her yesterday when Riddle had shown her to the common room, and she already felt comfortable in her presence. She could not say the same for her other dorm mates. They seemed to have made up their mind about her from only one glance. The other occupants of her dorm did not speak to her much but they did give her disgusted glances from across the room.

Now, she was sitting at the Sytherin table eating breakfast. Dippet had introduced her to the school and so, many students were craning their necks to get a glance at her. She could hear her name mentioned in multiple other conversations. Hermione knew it was unusual for new students to enter Hogwarts, especially as a seventh year. People were intrigued by her presence, but hopefully it wouldn't last long.

Cynthia introduced Hermione to the other slytherin seventh years. There was

Abraxas Malfoy, Rabastan Lestrange, Evan Rosier, Corban Yaxley and Vincent Dolohov. Hermione was surrounded by death eaters. By the grandfathers of death eaters. Tom Riddle sat across from her, watching her carefully while taking occasional sips of his coffee.

"Hermione, what a unique name." Abraxas was sat on her left, so she turned to look at him. Abraxas Malfoy was handsome in the classical sense of the word. Much like Draco, he had white blond hair but instead of Draco's pointy features his were softer. He held himself the same way all Malfoys did, with appointed regality, with so much self-assurance, like nothing in the world could touch them. Money and influence really does buy power. "Thank you, Abraxas" Hermione muttered.

"So you were homeschooled? What was that like?" Abraxas asked while shoving toast down his throat. "It was okay, I didn't have much interaction with other people though. It was just me and my parents." Hermione lied.

"Why don't you have a french accent? Dippet said you moved from London to France when you were young." Riddle questioned from across the table. His eyes narrowed and she realised that he was watching her body language for lies.

"My parents were both British, and I was around them enough that I did not develop a french accent" It was not the best excuse she could have given, but she had nothing else. The other students at her table noticed her use of past tense when referring to her parents and they fidgeted nervously and shifted in their seats.

"Anyway, there is some information we should tell you before you start your classes" Abraxas swifty changed the topic, perhaps noticing Hermione's uncomfort at Riddle's attention.

"Professor Slughorn is our head of house, I'm sure you have met him. He is kind enough and you needn't worry about him. Professor Dumbledore on the other hand, he…well lets just say he doesn't favour us Sytherins. Has a grudge against us or something, I'm not sure. You have probably heard of him, very talented wizard he is. He teaches transfiguration. And over there is professor Merrythought, she's the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. Don't let her looks fool you, she is as strict as they get. Gives way too much homework." Abraxas gestured towards the table at the back of the great hall, where all the professors sat. He continued on, giving Hermione a brief outline on all the professors at Hogwarts. Hermione realised instantly that Abraxas loved to talk.

"What classes are you taking, Hermione?" Abraxas questioned. "I'm taking Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defence, History of Magic, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies" Hermione listed the classes on the timetable that Slughorn had given her after he tested her knowledge. It was a lot of subjects but Hermione needed something to distract her.

Riddle's head lifted abruptly from stirring sugar into his second cup of coffee. Hermione was weirdly interested in his beverage choices. He took his coffee with milk and heaps of sugar. Hermione thought that he would have enjoyed his coffee black and bitter

"Whoa, that's… a lot." mumbled an awed Abraxas. "That's the same amount of subjects Riddle is taking"

Hermione glanced at Riddle, he had a slightly annoyed look on his face. Hermione figured he did not like to be challenged, even academically. Hermione knew she could not hurt him physically. He was, although she was displeased to admit, more powerful than she was. Hermione didn't think she could beat him in a duel. But maybe she could beat him academically.

Later that day, Hermione was pulling large dusted tomes from the library's shelves. Having finished her classes, she decided to search the library for any rituals that seemed similar to the one those death eaters had performed on her. So far she had found nothing. Not in 'Advanced Rituals and Runes of the last century' nor in 'Ancient Runes and their uses in rituals' It was almost past curfew and she had been searching all afternoon. Nothing matched the runes she had seen nor the incantations she had heard.

The books she needs might be in the restricted section. It was a dark ritual after all and it probably used dark magic. It was too dangerous for her to sneak into the restricted section, especially with Tom Riddle as head boy. There were also warding spells and alarms that protected the books. So she would need permission from one of the teachers. Slughorn would be her best chance, she just needed to butter him up. Slughorn, she knew, loved powerful people. That's why he seemed to like Riddle so much. Hermione would need to make him like her enough to give her permission to enter the restricted section even though no homework or assignments called for it.

Tuesday morning Hermione had potions, she answered every question Slughorn asked in detail. Slughorn beamed gleefully everytime.The only time she did not answer a question was when Riddle did. Hermione was quite impressed with Riddle's knowledge. Abraxas had told her earlier this morning that Tom had the highest marks in the entire school, and apparently he always had, ever since first year. But so has Hermione, they didn't call her the brightest witch of her age for no reason.

Everytime Hermione answered a question, Riddle's eyes would narrow ever so slightly and his lip would curl. He still had that practised smile on his face though. She wanted to curse it off.

"Does anyone know the ingredients to the antidote potion for Veritaserum?" Slughorn asked while looking pointedly at Hermione and Tom.

"Yes professor, the ingredients include powdered root of asphodel, boomslang skin, a quarter cup of beetle eyes, freshly cut dittany, fluxweed and ginger root." Tom answered, with a slightly prideful edge in his tone. "Yes Tom, that is as always, correct" Slughorn said with a wide toothy grin. "Now -"

"Sorry professor, but there is an ingredient that would make the Veritaserum antidote more potent" Hermione interrupted him. Slughorn looked surprised but nodded encouragingly "It isn't listed in the textbook but it is known that if you add finely chopped knotgrass, the antidote will remove all traces of Veritaserum immediately, rather than it taking a few minutes to wear off and still leaving traces behind."

Tom Riddle's smile dropped from his face.

"Miss Greene, I am very impressed! Not many people know about that. Have you brewed this potion before?" Professor Slughorn looked more delighted than Hermione had ever seen him. He was positively vibrating with excitement. "Yes I have, when I was fourteen." Hermione replied. "Amazing! That is a very complicated potion indeed, even by my standards. Tom, you better watch out for this one"

Riddle's face remained calm and composed but Hermione could tell he was seething. HIs grip on the edge of his desk was tight and his eyes were dark. Hermione involuntarily shivered when Riddle turned in his seat and their eyes connected.

His eyes were beautiful.