A/N: Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews!

Thank you all for hanging in there with me…

For a while, I was considering DNF this story because of some errors I made in the beginning to structure and timing but after some serious brainstorming, I think I will rise to meet the challenge.

Chapter Seven

The weekend had finally come and none too soon in Tom's opinion as he tried very hard to ignore the displeased glare of their transfiguration professor all throughout Friday. And that wasn't even the most frustrating part.

Tom had spent the day trying to tear down Hermione's Occlumency walls to find out exactly what Malfoy Manor meant to her but no matter what he tried, she held fast against him. He never encountered anything like it before. Other than with Hermione that is. She was the only one who ever kept him out.

As he walked to the entrance hall, he kept running his hands over his robes, the only set he had that did not have the Hogwarts crest on it. It would have been gauche, he decided, to turn up at Malfoy Manor looking as if he hadn't a sickle to his name by wearing his school robes. He didn't have any if one refused to count the yearly Gringotts deposit for school items. And he didn't count that capital. That was charity. He spat the thought in his mind, feeling helpless. Helpless was a feeling that he loathed. Absolutely loathed.

The moment he caught sight of Hermione sitting on the stone steps, he relaxed and tried to remember that despite his poverty, despite his inclinations, Hermione came back in time for him. Not the wealthy Malfoy or Nott heirs. Not Dumbledore or Grindelwald. But him… Tom Marvolo Riddle. Powerful enough to make up for his humble beginnings.

It didn't even matter that she was there to stop him from a path that hadn't been his. She had been fed lie after lie. That was okay, he thought, smiling. He would be a force to be reckoned with, even if it wasn't for the same reasons and she would eventually side with him. Dumbledore wouldn't have just chosen him at random if he wasn't a threat. Nothing would stop Tom from obtaining such power and with Hermione at his side, he would be unstoppable.

Now, he just had to convince her that her blood was magical at its core, that she wasn't born of muggles. He would charm her. Show her his innermost proclivities. By the end of their little research project… she would be his and she would just as fiercely claim him as well.

"Morning, Sweet," he murmured into her hair as he bent at the waist and kissed her cheek all the while sliding the book she was reading out of her fingers. She smelled divine, as usual, and he took a moment to savor the quickening of his heart and tightness in his trousers. He hoped that things would always be like this between them.

"Good Morning Tom," she said grasping for the heavy tome. He glanced at it, amused at the title. Where could she have found such an absurd thing?

"Bloodlines: Fact or Fiction. The true and unbiased account of the Mudblood affliction by R. Black," he read, letting the smirk playing on his lips. He couldn't help but tease. "Unbiased huh… well, now we have it on good authority that being born a Muggleborn is, in fact, a disease,"

"Give that back Tom!" Hermione grumbled, cheeks pinkening. He chuckled and gave the book back, watching as she slid it into the smallest handbag he had ever seen. How interesting.

"Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded and together they walked out of Hogwarts and down to the village where they would floo to Malfoy Manor from the Three Broomsticks.

He held his elbow out for her to wrap around and waited for her to take it. "Don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt you,"

Hermione grimaced sliding her hand into the crook of his arm. "I'm not worried they will hurt me,"

"Then what?"

"Do you have to know everything? Can't you just take in my body language, know that I am uncomfortable and leave it at that?"

"Yes, if it concerns you, I must know it! I am appalled at the lack of concern you expect me to show for you. Is this how everyone in your life is?"

"Don't try to manipulate me into confiding my secrets Tom. It won't work,"

He shrugged. "Man's got to try,"

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped into the pub, smiling at the young proprietor who merely nodded at Tom and ignored her altogether. Tom reached around her and grabbed the flowerpot, letting her take a fistful.

"I will be right behind you," he muttered.

Hermione threw the green powder into the grate and stepped in, shouting, "Malfoy Manor,"

Tom watched her disappear and made to step in and follow when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Tom looked up, furious that anyone would dare touch him only to come face to face with his once Lord and Master, Gellert Grindelwald, who was cloaked in one of the strongest notice-me-not's Tom had ever felt.

"Thought you were so clever. Thought I wouldn't be keeping my eye on you, especially with such precious cargo. I will admit, Riddle, that it took me several days to determine if you were stupid enough to destroy my Horcruxes. There will be retribution."

Tom stared at the man dispassionately, keeping every thought and feeling behind a perfect mask of indifference. "And what exactly," he began slowly before twisting his lips up in a mockery of amusement. "are you going to do about it?"

Grindelwald ground his teeth, rage making sparks fly out of the tip of his wand to fizzle out harmlessly on the wooden floor. "You want to go against me?!"

"I see little advantage of being your lap dog. The night I destroyed your Horcruxes, I also destroyed our little vow. I am not your man. I told you once that I would rise, higher and more powerful than you could ever dream of. Now it is your turn to watch and cower at my feet."

"You little…"

Tom shook off Grindelwald's hand and dropped in the powder, staring Grindelwald straight into the eye as he called out Malfoy Manor. A high ranking powerful family that disdained Grindelwald and refused any sort of help. They believed that though he had the right idea… they couldn't be bothered to light a fire under their entitled arses into joining the movement.

Grindelwald felt the call to murder Tom and it was plastered clearly across his face. Tom lazily smirked and then he was stepping out of the Malfoy family floo, a marble fireplace to rival that of the extravagant French kings.

Hermione stood in the center of the room, shaking as Septimus Malfoy circled her like a great white shark who had identified his prey. Tom watched a heavily bejeweled finger reach out to trace her shoulder. A finger that never made contact.

Septimus pinned Tom with a challenging look and raised his brow. "You dare to use magic on me, in my own home?"

"Keep your hands to yourself, Malfoy, and I will mind my manners," they stared at one another until Septimus pursed his lips and stepped back several feet. Tom approached Hermione and wondered why she didn't blast the man to kingdom come.

"Hermione?" he whispered. "Are you okay?"

But she wasn't. She was a million miles away.

"Hermione?" he said a little louder, taking her shoulder in hand and shaking her gently, just enough to snap her out of it. When that didn't work he turned on Septimus, wand raised. "What did you do to her?" he yelled.

Septimus held up his hands, showing that he was unarmed. "The moment she saw me she froze. I am not unused to witches who are stunned by my handsomeness nor my powerful reputation,"

Tom canted his head, angrily bristling at the insinuation that it was Hermione's lust, of all things, that held her immobile.

Hermione at that moment took a great shuddering breath and turned, "I am sorry for my rudeness,"

"What the fuck," Tom mumbled confused beyond measure.

He felt rather than saw her slip her smaller hand into his before she pressed her entire body against his side. She was still trembling.

"Please," she whispered. "let's get this over with,"

Tom dropped his wand arm back to his side. Through gritted teeth, he said, "I also apologize for my rude behavior," but it nearly killed him to say. There were others that they could query about this subject. But Tom knew that if they wanted documented facts, they would have to seek out Malfoy and his damnable library. The Malfoy family was notorious for being progressive in all fields of magic, keeping academic journals in their own private collection.

He should have just sent Abraxas to gather the required material and bring them to Hogwarts for their perusal. But he had wanted to impress her with his connections.

One day it would be the other way around. They would clamor after him to gain his favor.

Malfoy nodded stiffly and said, "right this way. The Malfoy library is one of the largest personal libraries in the world. Not only do we add to it ourselves by creating magical content, we also buy and protect rare tomes that have been banned for whatever reason. Our library is situated in five buildings, the biggest- of course- is here at Malfoy Manor. Much of the banned books have been relocated out of the country where such information could still be held privately, without the threat of Ministry involvement. Abraxas said that the two of you were working on the Mudblood problem. Good for you! Please keep me informed of your findings…"

Septimus opened the double doors of the library, moving through to the wet bar near the far windows, pouring himself a generous tumbler of Fire Whiskey.

"The books on purity are on the second floor on the far side of the windows," he continued, swallowing a rather large mouthful of alcohol. He dismissed them from his mind and left the room without even a by your leave. Tom rolled his eyes. This matter would be quickly forgotten by the high and mighty Septimus and the only person who would be apologizing from here on out was Abraxas, on his father's behalf. Tom would see to that.

"Let's get started," Hermione said, seemingly over her earlier episode that caused her to tremble like a first year on sorting day.

"What was that all about?" he asked, stepping in front of her, baring her access to the books.

Hermione took in a shaky breath and closed her eyes. "I am not doing this now…"

"I am not going to let you touch a single fucking book until you tell me what is going on! You have hunted Horcruxes. You have traveled back in time. You have gone up against many horrible things in your own time. And yet seeing Septimus Malfoy stopped you in your tracks to the point you were catatonic!"

"During the war," she began, meeting his eyes for the first time since he stepped in front of her. "I received a letter from Lucius Malfoy asking for help. At this point, it was widely believed that Voldemort was you and vice versa. But if you said you didn't make any Horcruxes then it must have been Grindelwald. But if he was Voldemort, who was rotting away in Nurmengard?" She trailed off having gone on a tangent. "anyway… I came here as requested to help Lucius and his family escape out from under Voldemort. I will skip all the gory details but here is what you need to know. Lucius's family was already murdered, and he was held as a prisoner in Malfoy Manor. I was lured here, tortured, and finally saved by a house elf that was loyal to my best friend who had died three months earlier in the Gaunt shack. Septimus looks exactly the way Lucius did before the second war restarted and Voldemort was resurrected. That is why I froze. I was reliving the memory."

Tom stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. "You are here now… with me… and I will not let that happen. We can and will change things. Together, we can accomplish anything,"

Hermione snaked her arms around his waist and tried to bury herself in him, taking comfort from his touch. When she settled down he pushed her away and cradled her face, enjoying the way she leaned into his palm.

"We will be so good together," he whispered before leaning down and kissing her lips that had been begging for his all day.

"We need to get back to work so we can leave," she mumbled against his lips.

He nodded, disappointed, freeing her from his hold. He turned around and grabbed the first book he saw.

The Short History of a Mudblood's Magic by Algernon Malfoy.

He snorted and flipped open the back cover. It would be too easy if there was any sort of index. Letting the book fall open on its own, he began to read, barely containing his amusement.

Magical children are stolen from their cradles by unbound house-elves and swapped with nonmagical children of similar coloring and temperament. Squib and Mudblood children are clearly a myth perpetuated by those too scared to admit that their wards had been breached and their children switched under their very noses. Therefore, all family's containing Squibs should be persecuted for child endangerment and neglect just as muggle families who receive a wizarding child should be killed for harboring stolen children.

Tom snorted and copied down the passage. He couldn't wait until Hermione saw this little tidbit in the data. With a flick of his wrist, he decided to make himself a copy of the entire book, looking forward to the highly offended look on Hermione's face when she read his report.