A/N: Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, favorited, followed, or just read along so far! I love writing this story, so it means a lot that other people are enjoying it as well! :)

The burial was quiet and small. It was the first time Hermione had been to the Manor, and the first time Draco had been there since the winter of their sixth year. The grounds were expansive and alien; Draco surveyed them with a hint of nostalgia and sorrow. The death of his grandfather had hit him hard.

She was surprised at first when Draco asked her to attend, but realized that she was the only familiar face he had in this time, other than Dumbledore, she supposed. She had been in this time long enough to make friends and acquaintances, and even fall in love. But for Draco, the last forty-eight hours had held nothing but pain, from her rejection to Abraxas's shocking death.

Hermione hadn't fully processed her feelings on the matter. She had hardly known the wizard, and hadn't been very fond of the part of him she did know. He was incredibly racist, for one thing. But to die so young, and so suddenly? She couldn't help but feel the heavy weight of guilt, knowing that this death did not occur in her timeline.

Draco told her nearly immediately that Dumbledore hinted it was Tom, and Hermione had a hard time refuting that claim; after all, how many murderers were there on campus? She wanted to believe that it was the vampires, but trusted Dumbledore to perceive a magical signature. Then again, trusting his abilities and trusting him were two different things, and she wouldn't put it past him to tell Draco that Tom murdered someone with the knowledge it would get back to her. Dumbledore hadn't been happy when her and Tom started dating. All she could do was wait, and try to ascertain the truth from Tom, though that was easier said than done.

Tom warily took his seat in Potions. His stomach was tense and he hadn't been able to eat that morning. It had been more than a day since he left Malfoy in the forest, and still he hadn't heard anything. Surely there would be an uproar if he were found dead, or even seriously injured. Perhaps he was still in the forest, and everything went according to plan, but Tom's confidence had been thrown when he had been unable to make a Horcrux. The only explanation was that he felt too much remorse over Malfoy's death, but he certainly did not feel that were the case. Yes, he somewhat regretted his hasty actions, but Malfoy had deserved it by taking what was Tom's.

Tom's train of thought was cut off, along with his heartbeat, when Malfoy strode into the room, taking his now normal seat at Hermione's table. Malfoy steadily avoided Tom's eye, which was probably for the best because Tom felt the blood drain from his face. How was this possible? Was it possible in his emotional state that Malfoy had been less injured than he imagined? Or was Malfoy putting on a show, convincing him to leave his follower for dead? No; had Malfoy been able to resist the Imperius Curse, he would have. Well, he wouldn't suffer with these questions for long. Even if Malfoy did intentionally thwart him, he would not accept dissent.

Tom followed Malfoy out of Potions, catching up with him easily. "Walk with me, Malfoy."

The terror was electric, filling the air with Malfoy's clear anxiety. Tom walked until they reached a deserted hallway where he could hear the footsteps echoing behind him, finally turning on his heel to address his surprisingly resilient follower. "Malfoy."

"My lord," Malfoy said shakily with a small bow. That was new. Obviously his near death experience taught him added obedience.

"Did you understand our last conversation, Malfoy?"

"Yes, my lord, as much as I can understand the workings of your brain." A little over the top, but Tom didn't particularly mind.

"And you will cease in the actions that I found offensive?"

"Of course, my lord. My deepest apologies for having offended you." At least Malfoy finally admitted what he had done. It made Tom's blood boil, but Tom felt less inclined to punish him after the weekend he had. And now he knew why he couldn't make a Horcrux; the vessel he tried to use lived on. His technique was still perfect. He simply needed to stop letting emotions getting in the way of plans; if he had been calmer, he would have never mistaken Malfoy for dead.

"Good. I am pleased that you have come to know your place. I require your services in continuing my Legilimency training tonight. I will meet you outside my common room at eight o'clock."

"Yes, my lord."

"And Malfoy: don't be late." With that, Tom left, his feelings a mix of jealousy and relief at learning of Abraxas's survival. Though he hated to admit it, the strongest emotion by far was relief. Relief that the school was open and relief that Malfoy was still alive.

Hermione shot Tom a look during Potions, which he steadily ignored, not even bothering to cast her one of his trademark withering looks. Although he had flatly rejected her at the beginning of term, Hermione thought that they were making progress last week when he surprised her with the fierce kiss in front of her door.

After that, she had waited for him to make another move or respond to any of her attempts, but if anything, he had been more distant over the past few days. Hermione tried to avoid putting the pieces together, but only one thing had changed: Abraxas's death, which had nothing to do with her. The most logical conclusion was staring at her in the face; one more death and one ready Cup meant that he likely made a Horcrux, and that he had been the one to kill the elder Malfoy. That meant his soul would he halved again. And maybe he was no longer capable of loving her, if he ever had in the first place. That would also mean whatever prophecy Draco referred to hadn't come true because she had failed to follow through. She couldn't bring herself to regret it, though, even if she were responsible for the whole world burning.

"Hermione, we need to talk." Hermione nearly jumped at Draco's voice, partially because it was wholly unexpected as she had specifically asked him not to address her in public and because she had far from come to terms with the fact that he was alive.

"Draco, what did I tell you?"

"I can't meet you tonight. It has to be now."

"It will be odd if we skip lunch, Draco."

"No one will notice. As far as everyone thinks, we're not even friends, right?"

"Fine. Room of Requirement. I'll take the North staircase, you take the East."

"Thank you," Draco responded in a curt tone. Hermione pretended not to notice.

Ten minutes later, and Draco joined her in the Room of Requirement. Hermione didn't know what to conjure up, and ended up with a cross between the Gryffindor common room and the Dumbledore's Army room. Draco raised his eyebrow at the décor, but quickly brushed it off as he begun pacing frantically.

"Draco, you're making me nervous."

"Good."

"Draco, tell me what happened."

"You-Know-Who—"

"—Tom," Hermione corrected.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Riddle, then. He cornered me. And I don't know what kind of show he's put on for you, Hermione, but he is every inch the same person. I treated him exactly the way I treat him fifty years from now and he didn't flinch."

"There's no show. I'm not his follower, Draco."

"I'm not having this argument again, Hermione. He wants to continue our Legilimency lessons."

"So he doesn't know Abraxas is dead?" If he didn't know Abraxas is dead, he couldn't have made a Horcrux.

"Or he's just messing with me."

"That doesn't make any sense. If he knew you weren't Abraxas, he wouldn't confront you. He would gather more information about you, watch you for a while. He certainly wouldn't reveal his power to you. And if he had been the one to kill Abraxas, he wouldn't be unsure if he were dead or not; he would make sure he finished the job."

"You have a disturbing amount of insight into the Dark Lord, Hermione." The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. Hermione knew the break up was still raw for Draco, but she was having a hard time feeling too sorry for him when he was so antagonistic toward Tom.

"Don't call him that, Draco." There was an edge to Hermione's tone which Draco responded to by backing off, at least for now.

"So even if Riddle doesn't know, he will know tonight once he realizes that one of these minds is not like the other one."

"That's only true if he's made substantial progress with Abraxas. Perhaps he's still at the early stages, in which case it might throw him off, but he won't be able to figure it out, especially because it's pretty far-fetched that you are anyone but who you say you are."

"But how do we know if he's at that early of a stage?" Draco was trying to hold it together, but his voice was cracking slightly. Living under Voldemort's thumb for years had instilled a nearly instinctual fear when it came to him, and Hermione felt sorrow for the blond wizard in front of her.

"Draco," Hermione said soothingly, wrapping her arms around the blond wizard and letting his head drop onto her forehead. "He isn't Voldemort yet. You're going to be alright. Just be on your guard tonight, and let me know what happens, alright?"

Draco nodded slightly against her forehead, his soft gray eyes peering hopefully into her own. Their noses brushed together and she could feel his breath against her lips, but she forced herself to push away, not wanting to hurt him further. "I should get some food before class. Let's meet here before breakfast tomorrow. You can tell me everything."

"Okay." With that, Hermione left, her feelings for both wizards tugging her in different directions. She was nervous for Draco tonight, but she had a hope that Tom's soul wasn't degraded further that she hadn't had before. And that made her step a bit lighter.

Tom gripped his fork a little too tightly as Malfoy and Hermione filed in shortly after one another, each missing over half of lunch. When they had both been missing, he had noticed it immediately, furious that Malfoy would defy him so quickly. The only explanation that would be acceptable is that Malfoy broke things off; but why hadn't he done so before, when he had left him with the vampires, so close to death?

The last few days had been confusing, and Tom didn't like to not know what was going on. One thing was for certain: he would pry the answers out of Malfoy's mind, no matter the effort or time it took.