A/N: Sorry all for the delay! I think some of you will be very happy with this chapter and others… :)

Hermione tried to suppress her nerves, but they escalated throughout the day. Her next two classes were with both "Abraxas" and Tom, and she couldn't bring herself to ignore the daggers Tom kept staring at Draco. It wouldn't be too concerning if it were anyone else, but Tom wasn't exactly harmless. She still had a difficult time believing he killed Abraxas; if he did, his actions toward Draco made no sense because he would know that Draco wasn't the real Abraxas.

None of it made any sense, but by the end of the day Hermione had resolved to use her life jacket: the Felix Felicis. She was going to find a way to get it to Draco before the meeting with Tom so that Draco wouldn't get hurt (hopefully).

Feeling better with a plan in mind, Hermione headed back to her dorm and tapped her wall, muttering a spell to extract the potion she had hidden behind it. However, nothing came out. She tried again. Nothing. Hermione poured over several books until she found a mention of the spell. She was saying it right. And she was doing the wand movements correctly. She had tested them several times before deciding to hide the potion there. Hermione brought herself to panic before she realized there was only one explanation, and he was on the other end of the Head common room.

Fuming, Hermione threw open her door and started knocking quickly and recklessly on the one opposite her. "Tom!" No response. "Tom, you better get out here before I report you for stealing!"

Tom opened his door in a manner that others would describe as lazy, but she knew him better: the molasses-like pace was calculated for effect. "And what am I supposed to have stolen, Prewett?"

Hermione couldn't prevent the sharp exhale. Using her fake last name was worse than a slap in the face; it was an attempt to erase all those moments together. Well, fuck him. Hermione put her hands on her hips and stood up as straight as she could. "Well, Riddle, you have stolen my Felix Felicis."

"And why would I need luck?"

"I didn't ask why you needed it; your actions have been so illogical lately that I don't attempt to hazard a guess at them. I merely charged that you took it, not why."

"I didn't."

"You did," Hermione insisted, knowing that she sounded like a child.

"Where's your evidence?"

"I'll gather it in time."

"You really shouldn't have put me on notice if you're intending on doing some investigative work."

"Thanks for the advice."

"You're welcome, Prewett."

"Tom, why are you doing everything in your power to infuriate me?"

Hermione felt her body freeze up; Tom had performed a wordless Body Bind Hex on her before striding toward her so that he was close enough to whisper. "I have done everything in my power to infuriate you?" There was so much anger between his words that they came out shaky, unsteady. "Leave me the fuck alone."

As Tom stepped out the portrait hole to his appointment, he quietly released her from the spell. What had made Tom so angry? The even stranger part was that Hermione wasn't scared when Tom paralyzed her and threatened her. In fact, she was thrilled to get a rise out of him. But she was still furious with him for taking her Felix Felicis, and upset with herself for being so fixated on her contingency plan that she riled up Tom before his meeting with Draco. The only hopeful thing she could think of was that if Tom could really do Legilimency, she would have been his first victim.

How dare Hermione accuse me of anything with the way she has been acting lately, Tom fumed as he walked with Malfoy following behind him quietly. Tom paced past the Room of Requirement three times, asking for a practice space as always. A door appeared and he walked in with Malfoy following him.

Tom turned around and rose his wand in one motion. "Legilimens!" Just like every other time, Tom couldn't get past current thoughts and emotions. Typical for Malfoy, he was terrified. Strangely, the fear was lessened if anything from last time. Tom shrugged it off; perhaps it had something to do with confronting near death.

No matter. Current thoughts would be enough since Malfoy was relatively undisciplined; he could suggest topics and then probe Malfoy for his thoughts on them. "I need to know what is happening between you and Hermione," Tom asked. Malfoy's eyes widened with shock before Tom shouted the spell once more. He could feel a strong current of confusion, which was surprising as they had just discussed this matter, but the emotion that was coupled with it was more disturbing. Tom didn't know exactly what to classify it, but it was a fierce caring that he didn't expect from Malfoy toward a witch that he had repeatedly referred to as a Mudblood. Was that all an act? How much had Tom been missing?

"Do you have anything to tell me on this subject?"

"No, my Lord."

Tom sighed. He would just have to improve his Legilimency skills. In the meantime: "Crucio!"

Dorea was walking down the halls, coming back from prefect rounds. She tried to walk calmly, but every reverberation of her own footsteps was filling her with fear. She had seriously considered asking Dennis Daze to walk her back to the common room, but couldn't bring herself to do it. Ever since her run-in with Riddle before the holidays, his promise that their conversation wasn't over had been haunting her.

Dorea froze momentarily as light came into the corridor. Turning around, she saw a lone light shining on the wall behind her. She was still deciding what to do when Abraxas came into view. "Abraxas, you scared me! I thought you were Riddle."

Abraxas laughed nervously in a very strange way. "Well, I'm not Riddle," he said simply. They walked the long path together to the common room mostly in silence.

"Did I do something to offend you, Abraxas? I thought we were good."

"No, we're good," he said in a distant voice.

"Is this about what we talked about when I last saw you? I just didn't see any point in getting into it, you know? What's done is done." And it was true; Dorea had agonized over her feelings for Abraxas, but ultimately decided they didn't matter. She was committed to Charlus, and Abraxas was in her romantic past, for better or for worse.

"Yes, I tend to agree with you. As I said, you haven't offended me." His voice was stiff and off, though Dorea couldn't quite put her finger on how.

Dorea was starting to feel paranoid; what if Riddle had sent someone Polyjuiced? "I wasn't trying to criticize your grades, you know, I just wish you would put more effort in." Abraxas would know this was not what they had discussed, but…

"It's okay, I know I could try harder."

"Incarcerous!" Dorea reacted before floating the now-bound Abraxas look-a-like into an open classroom.

"What the fuck?" Fake Abraxas asked; he looked exhausted.

"Who are you?"

"Abraxas."

"Fine, we can just wait until your Polyjuice wears off."

"Good luck with that," Fake Abraxas scoffed.

"And what is that supposed to mean? You think you're going to talk me into letting you go before the hour is up?"

"No, clearly you're going to do whatever you want, but there will be no change of my appearance. This is what I look like."

"So what are you saying, that you're his twin? I've known Abraxas since he was a child, and he doesn't have a twin."

"You might as well do whatever you're going to do because you won't believe my story regardless."

"Try me."

"First can I get a name now that we've established I'm not Abraxas?"

Dorea was a bit thrown by that; he didn't even know her? But she nodded slowly and responded. "Dorea. Dorea Black."

His eyes flashed with recognition, deepening the mystery. "Let's see. I'm Abraxas's grandson from the future. I somewhat blindly went back in time to rescue Hermione from Riddle only to find that she is in love with him, and he killed Abraxas so Dumbledore asked me to take his place. I think that about sums it up."

It was a good thing he was tied up already because Dorea dropped her wand. One, two, three taps on the ground before it settled. "Abraxas is dead?"

"Yes," Fake Abraxas said quietly. "I'm truly sorry you're finding out like this. Dumbledore insisted that there was no one Abraxas was close to who would want to attend the funeral. I should have known he was lying," he continued in a disgusted tone.

"He probably didn't know," Dorea said quietly. Their friendship had been so private; although she had never admitted to herself that it was the case or why, she knew. It was because their friendship would seem too close to most considering that she was engaged to another. But the cost of the secret had been too great: Abraxas was dead, and maybe she couldn't have prevented that, but she didn't even get to attend his funeral. "Was it a nice funeral?" Dorea managed to stammer out, too emotionally gone to care that she was now crying in front of a stranger.

"It was."

"Was it just you there?"

"Dumbledore and Hermione were also there. It was at the Manor."

"Good. He would have wanted that."

"That's what I thought. Malfoy pride goes back a long way."

"So you said you're his grandson?" Fake Abraxas nodded. "Then how are you here?"

He smiled in a lopsided way that reminded her of Abraxas. "Magic. I'm actually related to you, too."

Dorea struggled with whether to ask the question or not, whether it would be too painful to know, but she heard it come out anyway. "Am I your grandmother?"

"No," the man across from her said sadly, "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to suggest—"

"It's okay."

"You're my great-aunt on my mom's side."

Dorea just nodded, disappointed and relieved all at once. It would have been too much to give up if his answer had been different.

"What's your name, by the way?"

"Draco."

"So you and Hermione…?"

Draco shrugged. "She's really fixated on Tom." He continued talking, but Dorea could barely hear it, as her numbness began to fade and she focused her fury into a plan that Riddle wouldn't see coming.

Hermione was running late in the morning. She had overslept, her natural alarm clock failing her because her dreams jolted her awake as she continued to see the fury in Tom's eyes from the night before focused on a new target: Draco. How could she forgive herself if something had happened to him because of her inability to hold back her emotions when it came to Tom?

So, she half-ran, half-power walked to the Room of Requirement early the next morning, hoping that her fears were for naught. He was already there; the door opened easily to a "sunny" replica of the Hogwarts grounds. The fake sun illuminated his already-light hair, making it almost match his skin. His fake blue eyes looked strangely unnatural in a way they never had on Abraxas.

"Are you alright? Are you bleeding internally?" Hermione demanded, breathless from the walk.

"No, I'm not hurt. Nothing but a short Crucio, but what night with the Dark Lord would be complete without one?" Draco was smiling softly, but she could tell from the slight grimace he was either still in pain, or the memory was a powerful one. Before Hermione knew it, she had wrapped her arms around Draco fiercely; the action was quickly returned.

"I'm so sorry he hurt you. I tried to get my Felix Felicis for you last night, but Tom took it somehow." She let go of Draco to speak to him, but his arms were still wrapped around her waist, so she looked up at him from just a few inches away. It was strange to notice that even with his eyes transfigured they still responded in the same way. When she mentioned Tom, they darkened, but to a deeper blue rather than a stormy gray.

"Hermione, he stole from you. You're just another person he can use."

"Draco, let's not have this argument again." Hermione responded. "I'm too tired to argue."

"How come? And why were you late? I'm not complaining, it's just not the Hermione I know."

"Nightmares. Tom was shaking with anger last night, and I was worried that I made things worse by arguing with him. It's probably my fault that you were tortured. I'm so sorry, Draco, I just saw that he had stolen the only thing I thought might help you, and—"

Her rant was interrupted by a fierce kiss as Draco's hand that had been wrapped casually around her waist pressed her against him. This is wrong, Hermione thought, followed by thoughts leaving as she found herself seamlessly horizontal on the prickly fake grass. The full effect made her feel like she was enjoying a normal summer day with her boyfriend of several years with no war and no Tom. It was uncomplicated and sweet; as Draco fumbled slightly with her bra, she laughed softly, and he gave her a peck while her mouth was open from grinning, hitting her teeth until they were both laughing under the fake sun.