Greetings my lovely!

Quick little thing here. As you saw on the title...this is the second version of this story. The original if you have not read it or seen it is a birthday fic that was requested and did not end happy at all. I was asked if I would continue the story where it ended happy or write one that was an HEA. As I am normally a angst fluffball of romance and Happily-Ever-After...that was the plan all along.

So here it is...the original story with the ending changed. The first four chapters are literally the original story without the last little bit of sadness. If you have read that one and wish to skip to the end, then go straight to the last chapter.

I hope you all enjoy and though this is complete and I have no plans to write more...we all know me...so who knows in the future.

Always

~Tempest

PS: Chapters 1-4 alternate between Hermione and Tom's POV-the last chapter is all in Tom's as I find I enjoy writing his side more. :)

Hermione stood at the top of the Astronomy tower, her hair blowing in wild ringlets across her face and down her back. The biting air of winter escaped her lips in puffs of fog, her lips tinted blue from the cold…a cold she could no longer truly feel.

Below her a fire was going as her classmates gathered to celebrate before the winter holidays. They had all recently passed midyear pre-Newts and were in high spirits. The singing and laughing echoed up the wall and sounded more like nails on a chalk board to her.

Her eyes strayed once more from the cloud covered starry sky to the top of the head of dark brown hair. He was sitting once more next to that pureblood tramp Drucila Black and Hermione felt that sluggish stab of pain that always happened as she looked at him.

How had she let this happen? When she had boarded the train so many years ago it was with a hopeful heart and a determination few others could match. And then she had met him. Tom Marvolo Riddle, half-blood orphan with a huge chip on his shoulder, an arrogance few could pull off at eleven and a thirst for all the same things she had wanted.

They had started off rocky as he had sneered at her wild hair and perfectly kept uniform. Her sorting into Gryffindor and his into Slytherin had only exacerbated the rivalry between them. Their competition in their classes became an all-out war of who could learn and recite the most knowledge or get the correct answers.

As a way to try to stop the feud as it grew in third year, several of their teachers paired them up as partners for projects, essays, and potions. Hermione had grown exceedingly stressed as her grades and his began to drop as neither could seem to let go of their own pride and work together.

The exploding potion had been the catalyst and the turning point for them both. They had been arguing as usual on who would do what part as they brewed and in a crucial moment, Hermione had watched in horror as Tom had reached to grab one ingredient and gotten another stuck to the arm of his robe. As he moved to drop the correct ingredient in, the stray passenger had also fluttered into the liquid.

She only had a split second and the lion in her could do nothing less. Just as the potion hissed and bubbled, Hermione shoved him as hard as she could in the chest, sending him stumbling away from their desk as she threw her hands out to the side and cast the strongest shield she could muster without her wand. Her cry rang through the room as the white-blue magic flared to life around her just as the cauldron exploded.

She knew she had to have screamed, the only thing she was aware of was the scalding liquid that coated her back and the searing pain that ran across her skin and into her bones. Her vision swam and as it blackened his shocked face was what she took with her into the abyss.

She woke some time later in the infirmary, her body bandaged across her back and the back of her thighs. She was naked under the covers and lying on her stomach and the pain caused a tiny whimper to flee from her throat. A gentle hand smoothed her hair from her face as a familiar voice spoke, for once the tone filled with caution instead of hatred.

"Try not to move my little lion. I'll go get the Matron so she can give you more pain potion."

Her blurry vision only gave her an outline of the boy she had spent the past three years fighting with before he was gone and the darkened room was all she could see. She whimpered again at being left alone and felt a lone tear crawl down her cheek as the skin on her back pulled with her breathing.

Within moments the Matron bustled over and carefully lifted her head so she could drink down the acidic potion. The taste caused her to gag slightly but she took shallow breaths to keep the foul liquid down. The potion immediately started to work, the throbbing in her back and legs fading slowly to a numb haze.

She knew words were said to her but she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything but the wave of drowsiness that rolled across her brain and forced her eye lids to close. Another gentle touch to her hair had her sighing and though she wanted to open her eyes and prove she wasn't dreaming, she just couldn't seem to and with a frustrated huff she let sleep take her again.

She woke this way several more times and each time he was there with his cautious tone and gentle hands, the Matron called immediately to take care of her pain and the sand man would take her once more from his whispered touches. And each time she wondered why he was still by her side and if it meant she no longer had to worry about defending herself from him when this was over.

Weeks passed with her in the infirmary. Once she was well enough to sit up and carefully roll over, Riddle was there to greet her. He said nothing about what had happened and had taken to going over all the lessons she had missed. A routine was born as she would read all her lessons while he was in class. At breakfast, lunch, and dinner he would sit beside her and discuss the new material, practicing the spells with her and working on their essays side by side until he had to return to the dungeons for curfew.

By the time she was released to return to class, she was completely caught up and even a few weeks ahead as was usual for her. She worried her lip on the first day back in class as she figured that things would go back to normal. Only…they didn't.

Riddle arrived in class with his cronies as usual but instead of a sneer or a hateful glare, he sat down beside her with a pensive look, pulling his book and supplies out to prepare for class. As the class commenced, he took notes and raised his hand just as he normally did. When he answered he looked to her and when she nodded at him in agreement, he gave her the first small tilt of his lips. For him, he might as well have been grinning from ear to ear and Hermione tripped into the age old trap and fell flat on her face in infatuation.

After class he walked with her to the next and the next. A twinge in her back caused her to drop her book during one of their walks and he picked it up before she even had a chance. Reaching over he took her knapsack as well and carried both for her. In potions he was meticulous in checking that only what was meant to go in the cauldron did and kept his body just slightly covering hers the entire class.

It only took a few days before her confusion overrode her caution and she confronted him in a quiet alcove in the library where they were studying for a project due at the end of the week.

"Not that I want to go back to the way things were…but what is going on Riddle? A month ago you hated the very thought of my existence and believed every breath I took was one stolen from you. Now you are like this dark knight standing at my side. It's…odd…"

She trailed off knowing the last words were not what she had been thinking but not dumb enough to voice her real thoughts on the matter. His dark eyes slowly looked up from the book he was reading to pierce into hers with such an intense stare that she had to clear her suddenly dry throat.

"Why did you save me?"

His question threw her off guard and she shook her head to try to clear it of the fog his gentle inquiry caused.

"What?"

He continued to stare at her with that unblinking intensity before sitting back and brushing the fringe of his dark hair off of his brow.

"I asked 'why did you save me?' That day in potions…you knew what was going to happen before it happened. I heard the hiss and I knew something had gone wrong but not what. You knew and instead of saving yourself…you saved me…why?"

Biting her lip she cast her eyes everywhere but at him as she tried to find an answer to that question. Coming up blank and not wanting to lie as it was not in her nature Hermione looked back at him with a helpless shrug.

"I…don't know. I saw the fairy wing stuck to your robe and before I could utter a warning it had already fluttered into the potion. I remembered reading that fairy magic could be volatile if added too early and I just reacted. I…well I mean…no one is heartless enough to let a fellow classmate get hurt if they could help it…right? I knew it was coming and you didn't. So I did what anyone would have done. I got you out of the way and did what I could to protect myself."

"That's just it Hermione…not everyone would have done that. Most would have saved themselves or frozen in fear and both of us would have been hit with the blast. Instead you pushed the boy you hate the most out of harm's way and you cast…wandlessly I might add…fast enough to keep the explosion contained and keep it mostly off of you. Slughorn said if it had not been for that, you may not have survived and more of the class would have been hurt."

His eyes darkened to an impossible black as he moved around the table to kneel in front of her. She shifted as he came closer and couldn't help the little pants of breath that escaped at his nearness.

"Is it because you are a Gryffindor? The other lions all dove for cover when you shouted your spell. None of them moved to help or showed any kind of bravery or foolishness."

"Is it because you are brilliant and your brain worked fast enough to react? Salazar knows I started to react the moment I heard the hiss but I was a second later than you in realizing the danger. That second could have cost me my life or you yours."

He took her hands in his and held them gently as he searched her eyes.

"No one in my entire life has ever cared enough to help me, let alone risk their life to save mine. I am used to being alone and having to stand on my own. I have been doing it since I can remember. Then this annoying, swot of a witch comes along and not only proves she is as smart and as powerful as I am but also has the ability to hate me and put me verbally in my place as much as I do to her. Then she goes and does something I could never have imagined."

His eyes moved to her hands, his fingers tracing soft lines along her palms and up and down her fingers making her shiver and her skin tingle.

"I am trying to understand and I can't seem to. It doesn't add up. You hate me. You despise having me near you. I make you cringe and snarl and scream in frustration. You have called me every name in the book and have even cursed me to many a dark and rotting place. Yet when the unthinkable happened…you saved my life and I can't get that moment out of my head."

His eyes flashed back to hers as he tilted his head like he was looking at a puzzle that didn't quite fit together anymore.

"I have to know how everything works. I can admit it's a serious problem. I break things down until I know how they tick, how to break them, and how to build them better and more to my purpose. I thought I knew you…had you all figured out. And now I realize I don't know anything and that is making me crazy!"

She couldn't help it. The giggle escaped her mouth before she could clamp down on it and his eyes turned to liquid fire as he glared at her.

"I'm sorry. I'm not meaning to laugh at you. It's just…you look so serious and upset that I did not fit inside some box you thought I fit into. People aren't like that Riddle. People think and feel. They have experiences and memories, hopes and dreams, needs and desires."

"All these things paint who they are, who they want to be, and who they will be. Some may be more predictable than others but every person has the capacity to be spontaneous, surprising, other than they are. Even when people are civil and routine, they are still just directed chaos. Anyone can change at a moment's notice in the right or wrong situation."

"Tom."

She felt her eyebrows drawn down in confusion as she looked at him.

"What?"

His smile was just another slight tilt of one side of his mouth but the reaction inside her chest was just as strong as the first time.

"My name is Tom. I hate when you call me Riddle. It's what you called me when you were spitting your brand of venom at me. I find in my confusion that I don't like to hear you say it anymore."

Looking back and forth from one eye to the other, Hermione sat back in her seat with a pensive look before speaking.

"And why would I call you anything else? I saved you from being hurt sure but you still hate me, we still aren't friends, and you are still the boy who has made my life hell the past three years."

She was sad to see that tilt of his lips fade as he frowned instead. He sat back on his heels for a moment, his eyes glazing over as his mind seemed to work through her words.

"No I'm not."

She knew her confusion was written deeply across her face but she couldn't help it. He had always kept her mind spinning and straining to keep up when it came to social situations and now was no different.

"I am not that same boy. I don't hate you. I did make your life hell and my excuses for that are childish and do not need to be said. But I don't hate you and I would like it if maybe we could try to be friends."

Pulling him up as she stood, Hermione looked him in the eye as she debated this idiotic decision she was about to make. Holding her hand out, she gave him a soft smile.

"Hello! I'm Hermione Dagworth, Gryffindor half-blood know-it-all swot."

His eyes stayed cool but that tilt appeared again and she could feel her heart beat harder as she kept her eyes on his. His slightly larger hand took hers and as his calloused palm rubbed against hers she couldn't help the thrill it sent down her spine.

"Tom Riddle, Slytherin half-blood, orphan, overall cold jerk with a god complex and very few manners. It's interesting to meet you Miss Dagworth."

She giggled as her eyes lit in amusement. Shaking his hand she licked her lips before speaking.

"It's a pleasure Mr. Riddle. As I feel that maybe, manners lacking or not, you and I could be friends, you can call me Hermione if you like."

The other side of his lips tilted up and the effect the full smile had on his face was devastating. His eyes even warmed some as he placed his other hand on the back of hers and held it gently between his.

"Then I insist you call me Tom as I believe you are correct…I think we will become fast friends my little lion."

"Okay…Tom."