Nervously, Hermione sat in the remote classroom deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts. The fact that Riddle had moved her latest lesson into this cool environment gave her hope that nothing intimate would happen between them again. On the other hand, she was only too aware that not only spells, but also the location of the room itself would contribute to the fact that no one would know anything of what she was doing. This in turn caused her concern.

Remorsefully, she thought back to the little Puffskein. Against her will she had been fascinated by the ritual and after she had performed it successfully, her pity had indeed faded. She dreaded the thought of having to do anything like this again. She was a modest person; she did not enjoy making others feel her superiority or inflicting pain on them. That she had felt so good during the ritual was probably a side effect intended by Riddle. Or maybe the ritual was actually not about the being to be controlled, but about the wizard who performed it. Maybe this unhealthy feeling of power was the actual purpose of the ritual.

She did not know. No matter which books she had leafed through in search of answers, black magic rituals were not recorded anywhere. It was probably not surprising, though, that even in the forbidden section, Hogwarts had no record of the truly dark sides of magic.

Soft voices interrupted Hermione's thoughts. She was sure that one of the two voices belonged to Tom. Was he talking to someone? Did he bring another student with him? One of his loyal Death Eaters? Sweat was pouring down her forehead. Around Tom, as paradoxical as it sounded, she could act more naturally, but in the presence of another student she had to pull herself together and keep her mask on. She did not know whether she would survive a lesson unharmed under such exertion.

The voices came closer and suddenly Hermione froze. She knew who Tom was bringing along. Panic rose in her as she instantly understood what the lesson would be. And why it was necessary to be far away from all other living beings. Did she have a choice? Did she have any way out of this situation, was there any way around it? Did her secret mission really justify what she would probably have to do in a few minutes?

"After you, Miss Bargeworthy," she heard his soft voice from outside as the door to the classroom slowly opened. Desperately, Hermione tried to keep her panic away from her features.

"Good evening, Hermione," Tom addressed her, no sooner had he entered the room behind Augusta. "I don't have to introduce you to dear Miss Bargeworthy, do I? I happened to run into her just now, and then I spontaneously got the idea of inviting her to our study session. After all, she seems to be at least as bright a young woman as you are, and curiosity should never be restrained, don't you think?"

Hermione swallowed before she could reply, "A laudable thought indeed, Tom. But don't you think our studies are too... advanced for her?"

"But, no, she has a most extraordinary talent."

"Don't exaggerate, Mr Riddle," Augusta replied, but Hermione could see she was flattered.

She could not understand how Tom managed to trap her in his fangs – had her warnings not been enough? Had Augusta not been suspicious of him herself?

"I couldn't let this opportunity pass me by, Miss Dumbledore," Augusta explained, as if she correctly interpreted Hermione's questioning gaze. "The two best students at Hogwarts studying together? I just had to know what you were working on!"

The conspiratorial wink Augusta directed at her made Hermione groan inwardly. Did that girl really think she would find out anything, achieve anything, by interfering so directly? Did she not recognize a trap when it was in front of her? Seriously, she looked at Tom, who just pulled a chair back for Augusta. He noticed her expression and returned the look with a sneaky smile. The trap was sprung and there was no escape.

"Miss Bargeworthy," Tom turned to her with his most charming smile, "You accompanied me here without even knowing what our evening studies would involve. That is of course more than unfair of me, and it is to your credit that you have nevertheless accompanied me. It exemplifies your outstanding curiosity and thirst for knowledge, I congratulate you on these two remarkable qualities. And because you have been so kind to us, allow me to illuminate you."

Hermione closed her eyes. The proud glow in Augusta's eyes showed her clearly that the poor girl still had no idea what was about to happen. She just could not see it.

"My dear Hermione here," Tom continued, and she could clearly hear his amusement at her reluctance, "is stagnating a bit in her learning process right now. Good progress at the beginning, but now there was no progress. I thought long and hard about what I could do to help her out of this hole - and there you appeared. You're the key to getting Hermione to take the next step."

Slowly, Hermione exhaled and opened her eyes again. He indeed planned what she feared. In a harsh voice, she said to him, "You don't have to embarrass me like this. I can manage quite well without Miss Bargeworthy. We can do without her."

A hurt expression appeared on Augusta's face, but before she could protest, Tom contradicted, "Oh, Hermione. I appreciate your motivation, but I'm still the teacher here. And I know better than you what you need. It's time you acknowledged that."

His grin widened even more, if possible. With her teeth clenched, Hermione sank back into her chair. It was hopeless. If she had suspected that her harmless conversation with Mr Prewett about her forgotten documents would have such an effect, she would never have thanked him so warmly. Had she not succumbed to her nature and not been delighted with his kind words, his possible kinship with Ron, and his generally so engaging nature, she never would have aroused his interest or even concern. And then neither he nor Augusta would have been involved in this matter. Damn curiosity of the Gryffindors!

"So, let us come to your role," Tom addressed Augusta again. He drew his magic wand with a deliberate movement and pointed it at her. "Unfortunately, in view of the events that are about to take place, I must make sure that you do not lose heart in the meantime. Please don't take offense at this, please?

And before the poor girl understood what was happening to her, invisible bonds were put around her. With another wave of his wand, Tom took hold of her wand and placed it on a table in front of her in plain sight.

Now there was nothing left of Augusta's enthusiasm. "What is this?"

"Oh, but I've just explained that," Tom returned innocently, "Hermione is getting nowhere in her studies and I needed a new object to practice on. And since your curiosity knows no bounds, Miss Bargeworthy," he added and now his kindness turned to malice, "you are the perfect object for practice."

The icy coldness in his voice and the abysmal hatred with which Tom looked at her seemed to finally get Augusta out of her misconception about this lesson. Anger, but most of all open panic, echoed as she demanded to know, "What are you up to?"

With calm movements, Tom opened the bag he carried and pulled out an only too familiar bowl. Horrified, Hermione sucked in the air - she had guessed that he would ask her to do something to Augusta, but that she should perform the ritual on her was beyond her comprehension.

"You can't be serious, Tom."

"What are you afraid of?" he inquired with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "You have performed this ritual successfully before. It is only logical to try it now on an object with higher magical resistance. A real test of your will."

"Miss Dumbledore..."

The panic-stricken plea stabbed Hermione in the heart. It was obvious that Augusta could not believe what was happening before her eyes, that she could not understand that Hermione suddenly appeared as a willing playmate of Tom Riddle.

It was for a good cause, she tried to reason with herself, as she stood up as if pulled on strings, went over to Tom, and grabbed the knife. She warned her very clearly before. She could not risk failing this mission. Whatever she did, she did for the greater good. For Harry and for Dumbledore. What she was about to do could prove to be the ultimate step to gain Riddle's trust. This was bigger than the welfare of a mere student. It was for the well-being of a future generation.

Determined, Hermione took a breath and stepped up to Augusta. "I'm sorry, Miss Bargeworthy. I told you your curiosity was misplaced. It was your decision that brought you here."

With one quick movement, Hermione cut her left palm and dropped a few drops of blood in the runic bowl. Like the first time, the runes lit up briefly when they recognized the magic blood.

A quick glance at Tom, who nodded affirmatively at her, then Hermione grabbed Augusta's left hand and put the blade on. A short cut and the blood flowed into a glass that Tom held underneath. Hermione looked determinedly past the face of the young Gryffindor. Her rapid breathing, the trembling of her arm and the hectic red marks on her neck spoke a clear language: Augusta was afraid.

"You are so docile today, my dear," Tim teased her.

With cold nausea in her stomach, Hermione forced herself to smile. "Would you look at that, mh? When I'm offered something of interest, even I can be good."

Concentrating, she took the glass from his hands and placed it on the teacher's desk for the time being. She was only too aware that the probability that the ritual would succeed this time too was very small. The magical resistance of a witch was something else entirely. She did not know whether she hoped or feared that it would fail.

"Is this a challenge?"

Tom's tone was still teasing, but Hermione was sure to read an utterly inappropriate seriousness on his face. He looked at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. What else would he show her if she gave the right answer now?

Nervously she licked her lips. "Perhaps. So far, we have only ... played. This is the first time you've really piqued my interest."

"Played, eh?" Tom snorted. "Is that why you almost cried when I presented you with the Puffskein? Because it was just a game?"

Angrily, Hermione clenched her fists. Her reaction to the Puffksein had been real, she could not deny it. And even now she was more inclined to cry, but if this crime was meant to be worthwhile, she was not allowed to show that to Tom.

Again, she licked her lips. "I don't believe in torturing ignorant and innocent creatures. What is the point of torturing a creature that doesn't even understand that it is deliberately experiencing pain?"

Again, Tom just looked at her for a long time, as if he was trying to see if she was lying to him or if she meant what she said. With slow steps, he stepped back towards Augusta and stood behind her to put both hands on her shoulders. "Miss Bargeworthy here is not ignorant and innocent then?

"Take your filthy hands off me, Riddle!" Augusta hissed at him in terror.

But all it produced was a laugh. "Language, my dear, that is no way for a lady to behave."

"You're not worthy to be treated with decency," Augusta snapped before turning to Hermione. "And you? You're no better than him! What was that in the library? Do you enjoy playing the damsel in distress?"

A wave of shame rose up in Hermione, but she forced herself to stay in her role. "I have never lied to you. I tried to make it clear to you that you shouldn't stick your nose in my business and that you should stay away from Tom. If you're interpreting that I'm in trouble and need saving... I'm sorry for you, but it's just Gryffindor's overblown saviour complex."

Augusta stared at her with her mouth open. Never before in her life had Hermione felt so awful, even when she had delivered Umbridge to the centaurs. Augusta and Ignatius wanted to help her, just as she had always wanted to help, together with Ron and Harry. She did not deserve any of this, especially not her harsh words. But the expression of grim satisfaction on Tom's face showed Hermione that she had done well to be so condescending.

"Don't think I'll let you do this to me in silence. Headmaster Dippet will hear about this," Augusta angrily shouted at her.

Hermione's eyes leapt up to Tom - she had not even thought of that! How were they going to prevent the teachers from getting word of this lesson? Tom, however, remained calm and only smiled at her in a relaxed manner, so she decided to leave the subject for the time being. Even if word got out, she was sure of Dumbledore's testimony.

"Good luck," she finally said, shrugging. "I wonder what the Headmaster will think when you accuse Professor Dumbledore's niece and the dedicated head boy."

Not caring any further about Augusta's angry outbursts, Hermione turned to the bowl. There was no point in procrastinating any further. She grabbed the jar of Augusta's blood and dropped exactly three drops into the rune bowl. As before, the runes lit up a second time, then they turned black.

This time she was able to recite the words of the ritual without the help of Tom. While she worked the magic with full concentration, Augusta finally fell silent as well. Tom was still standing behind her, his hands now firmly on her shoulders. Hermione watched attentively as the drops rose and formed rings, bigger this time than with the Puffskein, big enough to lie around a human.

Again, Hermione felt the wave of energy, but this time there was something else. As if she had been caught by a sudden gust of wind, she stumbled forward and grabbed the edge of the table, looking for a hold. Sweat trod down on her forehead as she forced the rings towards Augusta.

"What is this?" the girl whispered and the panic was clearly audible. "What are you... what kind of ritual is this?"

"Silence, beautiful," Tom whispered to her, without taking his eyes off the rings himself. "You don't want to disturb her concentration. It could be very bad for you if something goes wrong now."

Hermione was breathing hectically by now. The rings had stopped moving and she knew that she would not make it. The magical resistance of another witch was too much for her, all her energy flowed uninhibitedly into the ritual, and she already felt that she was exhausted beyond her strength.

"You have to want it, Hermione," Tom's voice broke through her thoughts. Quietly, gently, but also decisively, he whispered to her, "You are stronger than Miss Bargeworthy. Show me you really want it. Make me proud. Show me how powerful you are. Prove to yourself that you are at a very different level from any other student here at Hogwarts. Give up your misgivings and admit that you are truly strong. Let go, Hermione. Show your will."

As if his words had cast a spell on her, Hermione let go of her scruples and reached for every bit of strength she had. She would prove to him she was not weak. She would prove to him she could be his equal. That she was a witch to be feared.

Finally, the rings began to move again and close around Augusta's body. When the first one touched her skin, she cried out in pain. Again and again, she let out a scream until her voice finally failed and turned into a desperate whimper. Hermione did not hear anything of it, she was too concentrated on her task. And then it was done.

When the last ring touched Augusta's skin, Hermione suddenly felt the other girl's presence with all her senses. Just as with the Puffksein, she knew that from now on, Augusta's body would obey her. Once again, a wave of power flooded through her, a feeling of elation that surpassed that of the first ritual, for now she had subdued not a lower being but a witch.

"Hermione Dumbledore," Tom whispered to her as he clasped her firmly in his arms, "You are full of surprises. Never before in my life have I been so drawn to the power of another with. You are definitely worth every second of my attention."

"Tom," breathed Hermione, but her voice broke before she could get any more.

Her knees trembled and suddenly she was grateful that he held her, for she knew she would have fallen otherwise. A flutter gripped her stomach as she felt Tom put a hand on her cheek and pulled her into a long, tender kiss. She eagerly returned the caresses of his lips, intoxicated by the feeling of standing here as Tom Riddle's partner, to be desired by such an attractive man.

"You need to sleep now, Hermione. Go back to your room, I'll deal with Miss Bargeworthy."

She nodded gratefully and staggered uncertainly towards the classroom exit. For a moment she stopped at the door to turn and face Tom. There he stood, an arrogant grin on his face, looking down at Augusta, his hands buried in his pockets, and beaming. No matter how much Hermione had denied it before: Tom Riddle was incredibly handsome, and in that moment, when he was so full of self-confidence, he was the most beautiful man on earth. Smiling, she turned back and left the room.

"And you and I," Tom said gleefully to Augusta after Hermione had left the classroom, "Let's have a nice, calm talk."