To say the girl was vexing was an immense understatement. He had hoped that, after he got her to shut up in potions, that she would leave him alone. Naturally, she didn't do that, which, to be fair, he had at least somewhat expected, though that did little to temper how very irritating it was to him that she didn't. It wasn't so much that she failed to leave him be, much as she did fail at that, but, rather, how she kept . . . watching him. He knew that she considered him a mystery that required solving and that she thought that, somehow, if she kept watching him, she might find a clue. Finally, he decided that he had had quite enough and no longer had the patience for keeping up his facade of tolerance.

'Granger, please understand that if you do not stop staring at me, you will be volunteering to help me test out some of the nastier dark curses.' Given that he had expected that to frighten her, he was rather shocked when she grinned at him.

'You do realize that's what I do with my friends in my free time, right? Does this mean that you want to be my friend?"

That caught his interest. He had taken her to be an irritating Gryffindor of no particular value but, now, apparently, she was also an adept practitioner of the dark arts. For a moment, he was irritated that none of his followers' spawn ever brought that up but then he remembered the first day in the Great Hall and how clear he made it that, if anyone so much as said her name, he would snuff them out of existence. Loath as he was to admit it, he was the only one to blame for this oversight.

'Are you telling me that you, a Gryffindor prefect, practice the dark arts?' She nodded.

'Yeah.'

'Why?' She checked to make sure Binns still wasn't paying attention before responding.

'When I first became friends with Draco, he suggested it and I liked the idea because it makes sense that learning the dark arts will make you a better witch or wizard. Also, there's so much more to it than the stupid narrative we get about murdering babies and all that.'

He was . . . begrudgingly impressed. Perhaps the mirror hadn't been lying after all but, rather, had brought him to an ideal follower, an apostle among the disciples. Naturally, this meant that he would have to test her a bit.

'What will you do when I go to Dumbledore about this?' She laughed.

'Over what? Dark magic isn't illegal, nor is it officially banned from school grounds, and we all made an agreement that, in our dueling, we don't use illegal curses. Even if that wasn't the case, there would be no way to prove otherwise unless you priori incantem'd your way through every spell I've cast in the past month. Not to mention that Dumbledore actually approves of and even encourages our little dueling sessions since he used to teach defence, after all, and sees it as useful practice for that class.' She smiled at him. 'But you already knew this; you were just testing me.'

'Yes.'

'Hey, Tom?'

'Yes?'

'Do you happen to be immortal by any chance?' His blood froze.

'Why do you ask?' She shrugged.

'Just curious. I had a theory about the time travel thing, that's all.' He quirked an eyebrow, relaxing a bit.

'Bit far-fetched, isn't it?' She gave him a look.

'You traveling over 50 years into the future is less far-fetched than the idea that you were somehow immortal or otherwise preserved and locked away, asleep or something, for the same amount of time? Forgive me for considering different possible explanations for something as seemingly impossible as your time jump.'

'I suppose you have a point. How did you first come to think of it?'

'Read something in the library the other day.' The twinkle in her eye caught his interest but, unfortunately, that was when she decided the conversation was over and returned her focus to the droning old ghost.

. . .

'Draco, tell me about Granger.' Lunch immediately followed Binns' class and Tom was craving information. 'You're friends with her, right?' He nodded.

'Yeah. You probably want to know about our dueling.' Next to him, Pansy lit up.

'It's positively splendid getting to practice dark arts and defence at the same time with someone as brilliant as her. They call her the brightest witch of our age for a reason. She's invented like half the spells she uses when we fight, you know.' That got his attention.

'Has she really now?' Pansy nodded, then stopped.

'Hey, I thought you didn't like her. What changed?'

'What changed is that now it appears she might not be half as worthless as she first appeared to be. Tell me more.'

And so they did. They relayed everything that could potentially be of use to him, everything about her intelligence, her daring, her cunning, her resourcefulness, her cleverness, her complete knowledge of the castle and all its rules and her litigatory prowess to complement such rules. They told him about how she, princess of Gryffindor, had managed to befriend half of Slytherin and all but end the age old feud between the two houses. As he received this information, Tom began to have the impression that the mirror hadn't failed him after all and that, rather than shipping him off to be with some random girl, it had brought him to a perfect apostle.