"Meet me out in the hallway in two minutes." His voice was commanding, but still seductive. He couldn't know the effect it would have on her as it made her ache for home and for Draco. She knew Malfoy probably just wanted a bit of fun, and had it been anyone else, she would have been furious at them for acting so boldly. But part of her wanted to meet him in the hallway, anyway. She knew it wasn't the right Malfoy- her Malfoy- but it would be comforting. Didn't she deserve it? Hadn't she given up everything to give everyone a new future? She should be allowed to live in the present. It was also the first time she had heard Malfoy's voice, and she wasn't prepared for the similarity. His whisper reminded her of every stolen moment with Draco her sixth year. She missed his touch, his smile, and his rare laughs. She could feel tears coming on as she rushed out of Slughorn's office without any goodbyes, and pushed past Malfoy in the hallway, whose expression she didn't take notice of as she headed for her room to allow herself to cry.

Once she got to her room, she didn't hold back. Her body shook with sobs for what felt like hours as she let her tears fall onto Crookshanks. She had no idea how long she spent like this because eventually she had cried herself to sleep, remembering in her dreams another Slug Club, another Malfoy, another time. A better one.

Taking Cormac McLaggen had not been the best idea Hermione ever had; throwing people off the trail of her and Draco was not worth it. Cormac made a grab for her under the mistletoe, and she made a run for it. Hiding behind a rather tall wizard from the Ministry, Hermione saw Draco sneak in while Slughorn was distracted. She popped her head out and made eye contact. Over here, he mouthed, gesturing to an adjacent corner.

Hermione looked around haphazardly while she made her way over the Draco. "I'm not sure this such a good idea, Draco," she whispered. "Someone will see you, and you know you aren't invited."

"It's not my fault Slughorn has poor taste, but I happen to have excellent taste which is why I am spending this evening with you, whether we're caught or not." Draco was so close to her she could feel his breath on her ear as his lips brushed softly against her earlobe. He pulled her behind some of the decor as he wrapped his arms around her possessively. She could feel his hands running over her back and through her hair as his lips crashed into hers, open and demanding. Moments like this made her wish that they could be more open about their relationship, because moments like this made her not want him to let go. Hermione snapped out of her reverie when she heard Harry calling her name, reluctantly pulling away from Draco. You need to hide, she mouthed to Draco. He disappeared into the corridor just in time, but not before winking at her.

The next day was much less eventful than the night before. Hermione tried to distract herself from the previous night with her schoolwork. She studied in the library from breakfast until dinner, feeling very productive as she made her way to the entrance hall to meet with Charlus. He was ten minutes late, and when she asked him why he responded with simply, "Peeves." Hermione laughed and groaned simultaneously; no further explanation was necessary.

As expected, the halls were quiet, leaving Hermione and Charlus to small talk.

"So what made you miss the train the other night?"

"Didn't Riddle mention it?"

"It must have slipped his mind," Hermione replied.

"Oh, well, Dorea and I got stuck in Switzerland with her family. Faulty portkey; it happens every once in a while, but it was awful timing. We weren't sure how we were going to make it in, and the Ministry had to set up a floo connection. Nightmare."

"Dorea?"

"Oh, right. Forget you're new. Dorea is my girlfriend; we've been going out for ages. She's a Slytherin prefect, which is why I was surprised Riddle didn't mention it."

"Riddle said no other prefects missed the train, though, and that's why we're patrolling together." But why should we expect honesty from Voldemort?

"He just doesn't like us patrolling together, says we get distracted." Charlus chuckled. "It's not entirely untrue."

"So who is Dorea patrolling with?"

"She got stuck with Reginald Bones, poor thing," Charlus laughed and then stopped abruptly, looking at Hermione with an awkward look on his face. "Merlin, I'm sorry, I heard you two are going out. He's fine, really, just-"

Hermione laughed and interrupted him. "We're not going out. I went to Slughorn's party with him yesterday. Biggest mistake I've made all week, but he was rather insistent." Hermione was still laughing, and eventually Charlus joined in. It was the first time Hermione had really laughed in ages, and she couldn't help but think of Harry and Ron, and how much she missed them. Losing Harry was one of the most painful moments of Hermione's life, though the war had given her many. Compounding Harry's loss, though, was Ron's anger over her secret relationship with Draco. As much as she tried to explain what had happened that night, he could never forgive Draco's role in it, and thus could never forgive her, making her lose two friends instead of one when Bellatrix's curse hit Harry on the astronomy tower.

Speaking with Charlus was bittersweet as he reminded her of her dear friends, but she managed to have fun with him nonetheless. She learned that he was a fifth-year prefect who desperately wanted to get "one to two O.W.L.s," as he had told her. Like Harry, he was a seeker, and Hermione found herself wondering once more what the family connection was. She wish she had the foresight to pack a book about pureblood bloodlines, but she had to make do with packing what she had in her possession, and pureblood lineages were a very new interest.

All in all, the evening was a significant improvement compared to the previous one. To cap it off, Hermione slipped into her pajamas before curling up in her favorite brown armchair with her favorite cat.

A couple hours later, well past midnight, Hermione saw the Head Boy come out of his room with the same textbook she was reading for Ancient Runes. Hermione sighed. This is exactly what I don't need right now.

"What are you doing down here at this hour?" Why does he have to interrupt? And why is he in full robes in the middle of the night?

Riddle sat unceremoniously in the opposite chair, opening up his copy of Advanced Rune Translation. "I could be asking you the same thing," he replied.

Don't pick a fight with Riddle, don't pick a fight with Riddle, Hermione's rational side tried to warn her, but she was too tired and too irritated. "Why did you tell me that Charlus and I were the only people missing from the train? You can't just assign me patrols."

Riddle looked up at her, his face blank. "I didn't think it mattered."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest, and gave him her best "I'm waiting" look.

"I'm sure Charlus explained to you that him and Dorea can't be trusted to patrol together." Riddle's voice sounded bored. "Since I had no idea who you were at the time, I gave Reginald the option of patrolling with Dorea or Charlus. Unsurprisingly, your boyfriend picked Dorea."

"He is not my boyfriend." Merlin, what was Reginald telling people?

"Are we done here? I didn't come down here to argue with you." Hermione didn't respond. Riddle returned to his book, first pulling out a pair of thick, tortoise-shell glasses from his robes and slipping them on before diving into his book. Voldemort wears reading glasses?

"You wear reading glasses?" Hermione couldn't help herself from saying aloud.

Riddle didn't look up. "Do you really want to criticize my eyesight, too?"

"I wasn't criticizing," Hermione responded with an apologetic tone. "I was just surprised, that's all." Riddle didn't respond. Hermione returned to her book, but had a hard time concentrating. No matter how much she tried to focus on her schoolwork, she couldn't shake off the fact that she was sitting in a room with Voldemort. Her whole body was tense, and her mind was involuntarily cycling through spells that might be useful if she were attacked. Finally, she decided it was time to go to bed.

"'Night, Riddle," she forced herself to say as she was collecting her book and her cat.

He didn't bother looking up. "Goodnight, Prewett."

It was a sunny Sunday the morning of the scheduled prefect meeting. Hermione left the Great Hall early to make sure she was there to let in the prefects and introduce herself to everyone. She was sure that many of the students- especially the seventh-years- were resentful about Dippet's choice of Head Girl. Hermione was done with stressing about what other people thought, though, and was determined not to let the lovely morning be ruined by the other prefects or by a certain Head Boy.

Unfortunately, it seemed Riddle had also decided to be early, as he was already sitting down when she entered the common room. "Good morning, Riddle," Hermione greeted him cheerfully.

"You're cheery this morning, Prewett."

"I tend to be cheerier when Head Boys don't startle me in the middle of the night," Hermione couldn't help herself from retorting, but did so in a good-natured manner. Their common room was spacious, but Hermione knew from experience how difficult it would be to fit all the prefects inside; although it wasn't common practice when Hermione was a prefect to hold meetings in the Head common room, Hermione had done so as Head Girl and used an expanding charm to increase the size of the room. She began to perform the same charm wordlessly, and the room quickly doubled in size. Hermione then began conjuring enough chairs to fit everyone.

"What are you doing?" Riddle snapped as he was shoved backward by a rogue chair.

"How do you think we're going to fit over twenty students in here if we don't expand the room?" Hermione replied matter-of-factly without turning around.

"I meant what are you doing flinging me across the room?" She could feel him staring at the back of her neck, waiting for a reply.

"That was just an added bonus." Hermione was saved from hearing Riddle's reply by the arrival of a group of people. That is, she thought she was saved until she turned and saw that the group was all Slytherins, including the girl who sat with Malfoy and Riddle in Potions and always looked like she had an awful day. Today was no exception.

Hermione searched the crowd of green and silver, zooming in on the friendliest looking face, determined to at least introduce herself to someone. "Hi, I'm Hermione Prewett." She extended her hand and the witch gingerly shook it.

"I'm Eileen Prince," she replied in a small voice. Hermione couldn't stop her eyes from widening a bit. She did look a bit like Snape, but the girl in front of her seemed so friendly and vulnerable, nothing like the nasty professor that Snape had turned out to be. Remembering what Harry had seen in Snape's pensieve, though, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if this was what Snape was like- or rather would be like- as a teenager.

"What year are you?" Hermione asked the wide-eyed witch. Or rather wide-eye, as she styled her hair in a deep side part with a curtain of dark hair almost entirely obscuring her left eye.

"I'm a fifth-year," Eileen responded. "I didn't expect to make prefect."

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself, Eileen," a bored-sounding drawl came from behind her. The speaker had blond wavy hair and almond brown eyes. Although nothing but their hair color looked alike, her voice and demeanor reminded Hermione so strongly of Narcissa that she thought the woman in front of her must be a relation. The blond-haired beauty elegantly walked around Eileen to extend her hand out to Hermione. "I'm Dorea Black. Sixth-year prefect." Hermione was a bit thrown back to find out this was Charlus's girlfriend, and realized that neither Charlus nor Voldemort had mentioned Dorea's last name. But of course she was a Black; she seemed more like one than Sirius would ever be. Her voice and mannerisms practically screamed proud pureblood witch.

"I'm Hermione Prewett, the new Head Girl."

"I know," Dorea responded.

Hermione saw Charlus come up behind Dorea and whisper something in her ear before turning to Hermione. "Nice to see you again, Hermione."

"Likewise, Charlus. I should go introduce myself to the other prefects." Dorea and Charlus, despite the fact that they had apparently been going out for many years, were one of those couples that left Hermione with the distinct feeling that they wanted to be left alone, so she excused herself and walked over to the rest of the prefects, slowly introducing herself to those of her own House. She felt a little relieved to see that Reginald was absent, although she was nearly certain he would have mentioned it had he been a prefect. Instead, Hermione learned that Olive Hornby had a (surprisingly) pleasant twin- Oliver Hornby.

"Oliver and Olive?" Hermione couldn't stop herself from asking.

Oliver laughed good-naturedly. "Yes, I know, not sure what our parents were thinking."

"So you were both prefects?" Hermione knew Olive had been the original choice for Head Girl, so she assumed that Olive had also been a prefect.

Oliver looked a little sad at the question. "Yes, we were prefects together, but Olive has been going through a rough time lately- a lot of personal stuff." Personal stuff? Is that what we're calling being haunted now?

"Of course. Well I do hope she's alright," Hermione said, trying to sound genuine but having a hard time feeling pity toward her reluctant Potions partner. Riddle saved her from having to fake any more emotions that morning by stating calmly, but in a magically elevated voice, "If everyone could please take their seats, we will start the meeting." Hermione felt a little annoyed that he was calling the meeting that had been her idea, but obliged, sitting next to him in the front of the room. Soon, everyone else had also taken seats around the room, with their eyes glued on Riddle, silently waiting.

Irritated, Hermione broke the silence, first muttering Sonorus under her breath to amplify her voice. "Thank you for coming, everyone. We're going to go over patrol schedules and expectations for the year." She didn't have to look over to know that Riddle's eyes flashed red at her starting the meeting. She led the discussion on patrol schedules before he wrested control to discuss prefect privileges, how passwords for the bathroom would be distributed and items of that nature. Finally, he went quiet, giving Hermione an expectant look. There was a look in his eye that she didn't like.

Hermione was fairly certain they had discussed everything, so she started to wrap up the meeting before she was interrupted by a Gryffindor girl. "What about the Yule Ball?" Hermione just stared at her.

"Oh, I forgot," Riddle's voice responded smoothly, "that you're new." Hermione tried not to look irritated at the obvious lie. Is he really so desperate to make me look stupid that he's going to get excited about explaining a ball to me? "Allow me to explain. The Yule Ball is an annual tradition for the fifth- to seventh-years. The Head Girl is in charge of putting it on with the female prefects." Now Hermione understood why he was so gleeful.

She didn't bother to hide her irritation when she replied, "The Head Girl? Solely?"

"But of course," Riddle replied. "I'm sure you and the other girls can set a separate meeting to discuss the Ball." All the witches but Dorea looked excited about the task and Hermione felt a surge of appreciation for the Narcissa-look-alike. She set up a meeting for the following Sunday at the same time, already dreading it.