Hello Readers! I hope you enjoy the newest chapter! Feel free to review, message me with any questions, or any combination of the two.

See you soon!

-VS

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the characters, locations, or cleverness. It all belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Studios.

"Hello? Hermione? Were you even listening?" A voice chirped, pulling Hermione back to reality.

"Hm? What?" Hermione quickly redirected her attention back to the small, fair-haired girl sitting across from her. "I'm sorry, Aviela, my mind has been wandering about today." She offered an apologetic shrug.

"It's alright. I mean, with all that pressure on you from Slughorn's big project and adjusting to a new school, my head would be spinning like a top!" Aviela said understandably. As the clock chimed, food magically appeared—covering the expansive surfaces of the four tables lining the Great Hall. Christopher, who sat quietly beside his twin sister Aviela, quickly grabbed a plate and began loading it with mounds of eggs, a number of sausage links, and gravy. Unlike his short, bubbly, energetic counterpart, he was tall, clumsy, and shy. Hermione had grown to admire both of their personalities over the past week. Aviela reminded her of a tolerable Lavender Brown, while Christopher reminded her of Ron in many ways. They both tugged at her heartstrings occasionally, often leaving her wishing for home, but after her recent revelations, she had come to the conclusion that if she truly wanted to give homage to those she loved, she must succeed in what she was sent to do.

Hermione found herself falling back into deep thought, so she snapped herself back to reality by grabbing a plate of her own and helping herself to a mound of biscuits and some jam.

"So are you in for joining the Halloween Ball committee?" Aviela asked through cheeks filled with food. "They say that this year is supposed to be the best yet. Christopher is even joining to help out!"

Christopher, who was gulping down orange juice, choked slightly and sat his glass down.

"I am?" He asked confusedly as he disregarded his napkin and instead used the sleeve of his jumper to wipe away the juice that had settled on his upper lip.

"Of course! And Hermione should too. It's going to be a blast! Plus, if it's going to be as big as they say it is, they'll need all the help they can get." Aviela crossed her arms as-a-matter-of-factually.

"Sure, I'll help. Who knows, it could actually be fun." Hermione said before taking a bite of her jam-filled bread.

"Great! There is supposed to be a meeting today in the Great Hall after evening classes! Make sure to be there!" Aviela said as she stood up rather excitedly and grabbed her crocheted, tan purse that she had informed Hermione she made herself over summer holiday.

"But I still haven't—! Oh, sod it," Christopher said in a defeated tone followed by shoving a spoonful of eggs into his mouth stubbornly.

"You never had a chance," Hermione giggled. Christopher blushed slightly at her laugh. "But, hey, at least we can all try to make it fun, right?"

"I hope so," Christopher sighed as the blush crept back down his face.

"Well, I better get to Transfiguration. Minerva promised she'd teach me how to turn a teacup into a wool jumper. See you, Christopher!" Hermione said with a cheery smile and wave, Christopher, in turn, dropped his toast bashfully, but still managed a wave.

Hermione walked down the hall purposefully to the Transfiguration classroom. Since she had formulated a plan, she felt better about going about everything. It would take time to get close to the young Dark Lord, but she knew she had better accept any and all opportunities—or at least the ones that wouldn't get her killed. She was still nervous and scared out of her wits. She knew her plans could fail, but then again her plan wasn't really a true plan. It was a matter of successfully winging it. That was really her plan, but she had formed some response and line to follow for the on coming months, and hopefully, it would be straight, narrow, and quick. Everything would happen in its own time, but then again, that is one thing that frightened Hermione.

She entered the class lost in thought once more, until a familiar, warm voice brought her back.

"Good morning, Miss Sivad. I take it you have been adjusting well, yes?" Albus Dumbledore smiled through his auburn beard. He had found out her secret of being a time traveler on the first day of her arrival. Having someone know of her situation made her feel more assured, and thankfully that someone was Dumbledore. She knew she couldn't say much to him due to the course she was charting, but having someone other than Nyoka in on the situation made her feel less alone on her mission at least.

"I have, Professor. Slughorn even invited me to join the Slug Club." Hermione replied, trying to seem enthusiastic.

"Ah, yes. I've heard mention of your extensive knowledge and success in the classrooms, well done." Dumbledore said with a smile, but Hermione caught the underlying warning he carefully placed in his words. He knew she was an intelligent girl—that much was evident—but he was advising her not to make a spectacle of herself. He had his own suspicions of the school and some of its students, and attracting unwanted attention to her could pose future problems.

"Thank you, sir." She nodded in understanding. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly. Hermione took her seat next to Minerva McGonagall who smiled at her and slid a piece of parchment across the desk. As Hermione sat she looked down at the crudely drawn sketch of a jumper with teacups all over it and a note which read, "What you don't want to happen." Hermione and the young McGonagall tried to stifle their laughter as they both nodded in agreement to meet up after class and try it out.

"Alright, class, today we will bgin by transforming brooms into whistling kettles!"

Hermione had gone throughout her day with no incident—not so much as even a run-in with the troublesome group of Slytherins that were the Knight of Walpurgis. She had seen a few of the boys she had recognized walking the corridors or sitting in the back of classrooms, but what caught her attention was the absence of the tall, dark-haired boy with that all-too-familiar unwavering expression.

Come to think of it, she had not even seen him in Potions class that day. Hermione was both relieved and worried. Riddle was known for being a prompt, model student and to see him missing without so much as a whispered word of his name throughout the hallways made her suspicious. She certainly wasn't going to hunt him down—not yet, anyway. She knew he'd show soon, maybe she'd even say she had been looking for him that day to discuss Slughorn's project. Yeah, that would work. Then maybe she could even get a little insight on his whereabouts.

Hermione made her way toward the Great Hall where the Committee meeting would be held before dinner. She did not really have any true desire to be on the panel. In truth, she didn't want to in the least, but she figured that it would help keep her mind off of home. Besides, she didn't want to rain on Aviela's parade, and it could even turn out to be fun.

She walked through the foyer and into the Great Hall. A small group of students sat at two different tables. The one nearest to the center was occupied by Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw students—including Aviela and Christopher. They seemed to be chatting and Aviela—who had a quill in hand and parchment in front of her—appeared to already be scribbling down ideas and suggestions.

At the table furthest to the wall sat Abraxas Malfoy, Hadrian Black, and to her utter surprise Tom Riddle was with them. Abraxas sat atop the table surface, his feet resting on the bench-like seating, appearing bored. Hadrian sat reclined on the opposite bench, his back against the table and a girl on each arm. The left was a raven-haired Slytherin who appeared to be in her fifth year, and the other was a mousy-brown Ravenclaw who had a badge symbolizing her status as Head Girl. Hadrian seemed to be telling a tale that Abraxas had heard many times, for when Hadrian reached certain points in the story, Abraxas rolled his eyes.

Tom Riddle stood on his feet, leaning slightly against the wall behind him. He was obviously just as uninterested in Hadrian's tale as Abraxas was. His mind seemed to be elsewhere as he glanced around the room, from the staff table, to the opposite wall, to the ceiling, and back. He had yet to take note of Hermione, or perhaps, was uninterested in her presence.

Aviela seemed to be caught up in a serious discussion with the Hufflepuff girl sitting across from her. Christopher's head was resting in his palm as he boringly watched the two girls argue about the colors of streamers they should hang across the ceiling.

Hermione took this opportunity for what it was worth and decided to attempt in making civilized conversation with Riddle—or at least an exchange with witnesses present. She took a deep breath and walked over to the wall where Riddle was positioned.

She stood beside him, but not close enough for her personal space to be invaded, and began to look around in the same fashion as he had been. Nervously, she rocked back and forth on the heels of McGonagall's old shoes she had charmed to fit her. Riddle still hadn't said anything to her. She cleared her throat slightly. Still nothing. She turned to look at him and jumped a little when she saw him glaring down at her from his towering height.

"Yes?" Riddle said simply.

"Erm… I just thought I'd say hi. You looked kind of lonely…" God, Hermione. That was just awful. Her inner-self cringed at her pathetic attempt at conversation. But then again, it wasn't everyday one conversed with a dark wizard.

"Hm." Riddle managed in response as his eyes trailed back around the room. Uppity bastard. She huffed in her mind, but decided to try again.

"I didn't see you in class today. I thought you might have been sick," She said choosing to look around the room again as well.

"I'm in perfectly good health." He said plainly. Not once looking her way.

Hermione was getting angry now. He was perfectly fine with talking when they were alone—when she was unprepared—but when she attempted at a conversation, prepped and amidst others, it suddenly turned sour. She was baffled by this young man. The others sitting around were still milling about their own ways, not taking note of the one-sided awkward exchange occurring between the two of them.

"Did you need something else?" He said almost seemingly impatient as he turned to her slightly. As much as Hermione wanted to punch him square in his flawless face she chose to go with the latter approach instead.

"I just wanted to apologize for the other night," Hermione forced the words out. Riddle then turned to her looking intrigued.

"Oh?"

"I want to apologize for my actions. It has been… a rough week for me. Things have fallen apart little by little these past few months and I guess it has been catching up to me," Hermione said naturally, because it wasn't a fabricated story, it was the truth. "I guess it's just been tough to get back into the swing of things again. You just… remind me of someone from my past that I am bitter about. I am sorry. I was thinking that maybe we got off on the wrong foot, so can we start over?"

At this point Riddle was smirking and even almost laughing.

"No."

Hermione was taken aback. Had she heard correctly?

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. No." Riddle said, half-smiling. Hermione was fuming inside at this point.

"What do you mean no? Why not?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Because, Hermione Sivad, you are a lot more entertaining to talk to when you're angry." Riddle said as-a-matter-of-factly.

You're about to see angry… Hermione thought in her head, ready to roll up her sleeves and throw-down with the arrogant Slytherin.

"But," Riddle held up his hand and interjected as she opened her mouth to speak, "perhaps we can discuss this topic later. Not now."

He then strode out of the great hall in long, purposeful strides. His robes billowed out behind him at his abrupt departure, making what almost sounded like a faint whispering. Or at least that was what Hermione managed to gather as she watched him leave. She stood there more confused than she had been before.

"Tom can be a difficult bloke to get through to sometimes," a voice drew her attention over to the table beside her. Abraxas was now facing her completely, hands clasped, a slight genuine smile on his face. "My advice? Say what you will to him, he listens, despite what you may think."

"Difficult? Thickheaded, more like it," Hermione huffed. Abraxas laughed slightly at her mounting anger for the young man who had just fled.

"Tom is a good man. Just be patient with him, he'll come around. He isn't as bad as he may seem," Abraxas said genuinely. Hermione wondered how much he actually knew about the herald fallen angel he followed.

"Maybe, but given his rare appearances, I am certain to never find out at this point."

"Well, in that case," Abraxas spoke as he jumped down from the table, "I might be able to help you out."

Hermione lifted her brow curiously.

"On Hogsmeade weekend, we all tend to go have a few drinks in the Three Broomsticks together. You can accompany me as a guest if you'd like. Hadrian usually has a girl or two hanging off him at any given time. Tom wouldn't mind one more tag-along. I mean—not like you are just another annoying girl or something." At this point Abraxas had metaphorically dug himself into a hole and he knew it. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Hermione laughed at his sudden act of embarrassment. The Malfoy she had met so far was suave, but he seemed to have allowed his guard to fall down ever so slightly.

"No, no. I completely understand," Hermione smiled in attempts to quell his nerves. "I would love to. It sounds like it could be fun."

It was quite obvious that accompanying him as a guest was the equivalent to a date. But still, the young Malfoy was attempting to help her out and he was actually considerably good company as opposed to most of the people she had met so far. One casual outing to Hogsmeade wouldn't hurt, and it certainly wouldn't back track her any further than she had already gone.

"Brilliant," Abraxas said enthusiastically. He looked over to see Hadrian walking out of the dining hall, the girls still laughing obnoxiously. "Looks like it's time to head out."

"You aren't staying for the committee meeting?"

"The what?"

"The Halloween Ball committee meeting that is about to start?" Hermione asked confusedly.

"Oh, no. Tom asked us to come here with him. Said he had a few inquiries or something like that," Abraxas said indifferently. "Well, it has been good chatting with you, Miss Sivad. I hope to do it again soon." Abraxas bowed slightly, his polished ways returning.

"Yeah, see you." Hermione said as she watched Abraxas disappear through the exit.

She was very much confused at this point. She was sure they were here for the meeting. If they weren't, then what was Riddle here for? Hermione looked around the room until she met a pair of blues eyes looking back at her. Christopher had been watching her and Abraxas' exchange. She smiled and waved at him, he managed a small smile back, but for a moment, she thought she saw worry flicker in his eyes.

"Alright, looks like that's it for the decoration planning," Aviela smiled as she scribbled the last bit of information on one of the various pieces of parchment lying on the table. "Now all we have to do is present our ideas to Headmaster Dippet and we should be good to go on planning the menu and entertainment!"

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief in her mind. The past hour had not been so much of a communal meeting than it was Aviela and the brown-haired Hufflepuff girl arguing back and forth until they agreed on something. Christopher and Hermione would exchange glances of silent acknowledgement in their hopes of making a hasty escape.

Christopher stood and stretched, his back popped loudly from being in the same position for over an hour. Hermione followed suit and stifled a yawn. The rest of the panel members who seemed to be drug into joining just as Christopher and Hermione had gladly left the hall chatting about.

"Hermione, do you mind walking with me to deliver this to Dippet?" Aviela asked. Her arms were full of parchment inscribed with her hopes for the ball.

"Sure thing," Hermione agreed despite her wish to escape anything committee related. With a wave, her and Aviela parted ways with Christopher until dinner started in an hour.

For a while, they walked in comfortable silence as they ascended numerous flights of stairs, but Hermione couldn't help but feel like Aviela wanted to ask her something.

"So I saw you talking with Abraxas Malfoy," she said with a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

"We spoke," Hermione said plainly hoping not to go there.

"I also overheard him talking about going to get drinks in Hogsmeade," Aviela continued in her own prying way.

"He mentioned it."

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" Aviela spun to face her. "What did you say?"

"Well, he offered to show me around Hogsmeade and making new friends wouldn't be all that bad, so I agreed." Hermione tried to make it sound as politically civil as possible, but unfortunately Aviela wasn't one for simplicities. She wanted truth. Or, the truth in her mind, rather.

"So you're going on a date with the infamous Abraxas Malfoy then?" Aviela smiled. Hermione didn't even bother to fight it. "Seems he's snagged yet another unsuspecting Ravenclaw. It's too bad, I really liked you," she said jokingly.

"Snagged?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hardly."

"Hm. You'll see, Hermione. He has a way of charming girls right out of their jumpers."

"I am quite certain you're thinking of Hadrian." Hermione laughed.

"You're probably right." Aviela shared in her laughter.

They continued their trek through the halls, passing the time by talking about classes, Hogsmeade, and Hadrian Black's various rumored escapades until they reached the office entry way guarded by the massive gargoyle. Dumbledore was walking out of the archway as they approached.

"Hello, Professor!" Aviela chimed.

"Evening Miss Goldstein, Miss Sivad," Dumbledore nodded, "You need to see Headmaster Dippet, yes?"

"Yes, sir! We need to deliver the plans for the Halloween Ball so Dippet can see if they are within budget."

"Ah, yes. Well, if you would like, you may send them with me and I'll see that he receives them," Dumbledore said with his hand extended.

"Thank you, Professor!" Aviela gladly handed him the stack of parchment. Hermione knew that the only reason he offered to take them was because in the end, Dippet would have shirked this duty off on to Dumbledore anyway. Dumbledore was just simply cutting out the middleman.

"You ladies run off now, dinner will soon begin." Dumbledore said with a warm smile.

"See you then, sir," Aviela said. Hermione simply bowed her head to the middle-aged wizard as he nodded back and walked away. Aviela turned to Hermione.

"I have a few things to do before dinner, so I'll meet up with you then!" She waved in parting.

"See you then!" Hermione called back, her mind already made up that she would kill time in the library.

A few flights of stairs later, Hermione reached the third floor and walked through the entryway of the library. She gently ran her hand along the various books. Some felt leathery, some were held together with rough-stitched cloth, and others even felt furry like an animal of some sort. The librarian watched her intently, her shrewd expression twitching as Hermione's finger eased across the spines of the books. Hermione fought back a smile and moved to the back of the library to further her whimsical actions.

Even though the librarian was deemed bitter by many of the students, Hermione couldn't help but admire her dedication. The library was very vast, books extended from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. Some books were even over one hundred years old and yet not one speck of dust could be found clinging to the shelves, nor the covers of the books.

A few rows later, Hermione found herself back in the potions section of the books. She milled about looking at various topics until she remembered the tome she had been studying the other day on love potion theory. She started at the top row and scanned down the long line of books. After nearly half an hour of searching she decided to speak to the librarian against her better wishes.

"Excuse me, Ma'am? You wouldn't happen to know the whereabouts of a book called Liquid Love by Selpha Marvick would you?" Hermione uneasily asked the busy librarian who was scribbling on different ledgers that were lying upon her front desk.

"Someone has already taken the book," the librarian said sourly, not even bothering to look up at Hermione.

"Oh… alright then. Thank you," Hermione spoke meekly as she turned away from the desk and walked out of the library, head slightly hung from her fruitless endeavors, and vowing to check back a week from now.

A week passed and the book had still yet to be returned. She had checked that very morning, but her efforts were in vain. When Hermione asked who had the book, the librarian coldly told her that she "could not disclose that information to any student". So she begrudgingly went on about her day, once again deciding to check back later.

"OUCH!" Hermione screeched as Aviela ran the comb through her bushy curls.

"I'm sorry! I swear your hair has a life of its own," Aviela retorted, running the comb through once more.

"If you're so good at beauty charms, why can't you use a detangling one?" Hermione asked through grunts of pain.

"I am! But not even a miracle worker could sort through this so easily!" Aviela snapped. Hermione turned and glared slightly at the short, blond-haired girl and cursed herself for not brushing her hair before bed that previous night.

"Is this really necessary? I mean, I am just going to Hogsmeade."

"No, but you are going with Abraxas Malfoy. You might as well put in a little more effort than usual. From what I hear, he always treats his date with butterbeer and even sometimes a trinket if he is interested!" Aviela said a-matter-of-factly.

"But, we're just getting to know one anoth— OUCH!" she yelped before sighing in defeat.

Half an hour later, Hermione's hair was less bushy than normal, felt softer to the touch, and even held a slight scent of citrus. The nip in the air had Hermione wearing an itchy wool skirt, scuffed boots, a sweater, and a frayed-sleeved coat and scarf. Aviela had offered to let Hermione borrow an outfit of hers, but she didn't want to impose—or ruin the nice cashmere sweater Aviela had offered her.

Aviela had already run off with Christopher and a few other fellow Ravenclaws. She had vowed to meet up with Hermione later into the Hogsmeade trip. Hermione stood in front of a mirror placed in the corner of her and Aviela's dorm. Her light gray irises reflected back at her. She looked away quickly—almost as though she were stung.

For everyone around her, they were just another set of curious eyes taking in the halls of the massive school, but to Hermione, they were unsettling and cold. It was strange; she could nearly burn a hole through someone with her stare, but found it hard to meet her own gaze. Even after over a month since the headaches and the changing of her eye color, she couldn't help but feel like the eyes were not even her own. It almost felt as though someone else was watching her dance around like a puppet, living her life from the inside out.

She shook her head and instead focused on buttoning her coat. Nyoka slithered out from the cracked stone wall behind her bed frame, tongue flickering all the while. Hermione had been so busy that she had barely noticed Nyoka's absence. Hermione bent down on one knee as the serpent rose on her haunches.

"Hello, Nyoka. How have you been lately?"

"Not so well, Miss Hermione," the snake hissed back. Hermione's brow furrowed and she sat down, perched on her knees.

"What do you mean, Nyoka?" Hermione leaned down closer.

"There have been… voices," Nyoka hissed confusingly.

"Voices? I think you have spent too much time in these walls. Besides, there are hundreds of students chattering at any given hour," Hermione laughed slightly at the serpent.

"The voice is not like the others… It is almost as though it is a faint whisper, yet it seems to grow louder… nearer every day…" The snake hissed with unease.

"Come on, Nyoka," Hermione extended her hand, "you could use time away. I am leaving the castle and we are going to Hogsmeade." When Hermione spoke, the serpent seemed to obey her without question.

"Thank you, Miss Hermione," the snake hissed as she slid into her companion's warm hand and off the cold floor. "Time away sounds nice."

"You're welcome," Hermione said simply as she grabbed her wand and placed a warming charm on the right pocket of her coat.

"I just hate it when the man speaks back," Nyoka hissed right before Hermione slid her into the pocket.

Hermione's heart leapt into her throat and gooseflesh rose upon her skin as the realization dawned upon her.

The year is 1943. The year the Chamber of Secrets was to be opened.

A/N: As always, feel free to review, message me with any questions, favorite, and follow! Thanks for all the support!

Constant vigilance!

-VS