She didn't have a boyfriend. And she couldn't decide if it was more ridiculous or humiliating that her first patient could unnerve her in such a way. She dreaded ever meeting with him again. Yet he was rather magnetic, and if what he was saying was true, she might uncover a whole conspiracy of corruption. She helped log data points from questionnaires for the rest of the day but could never quite focus her mind on her work.

It was approaching six, and Hermione made her way to the offender supervisor's office. She knocked several times, and after a long pause a deep voice drawled, "You may enter."

She waved awkwardly. Her curiosity and will for justice propelled her forward, but god was it awkward. She stood in the doorway before repeating Tom's words verbatim.

"I know about Draco."

Severus glanced up at her behind piles of paperwork, "I don't know what you think you're talking about."

"I know about Draco," she insisted, but felt herself going red. Had Tom played some sort of joke on her?

The table shook as Severus stood abruptly and slammed the door of the office shut.

"I thought you were a doctor. Aren't you supposed to be smart? You would talk about Draco with the door open?" Severus massaged his forehead, "I suppose, I should've expected Tom Riddle would tell you. Yes, it might've been Draco's fault that Myrtle died. How much did Riddle say?"

Hermione shrugged, "Not much."

"Do yourself a favor, and leave it at that."

"No! I deserve to learn the truth. What do you mean?"

Severus gave a long sigh. "Have you heard of horcrux?"

She had. As a psychiatrist she was acutely aware of street drugs and their popularity. Horcrux was the newest in a line of stimulants, but it had multiple effects. Said to make the user feel 'immortal,' the drug would make the victim energized and unable to feel pain, yet it came at a terrible cost. It caused extreme paranoia, and many murders had resulted from users' paranoid drug-induced hallucinations. The creator of the drug, some street chemist, was nicknamed Voldemort. No one was quite sure of his identity, but several investigations revealed that people could buy horcrux from any local dealer affiliated with the Death Eaters mob.

Severus continued, "Draco was found high on horcrux with the corpse of a young girl named Myrtle. Horcrux had been forcibly administered to her. Lucius convinced the police to drop charges on Draco and prosecute Tom Riddle instead. There was enough circumstantial evidence to get a conviction, so," Severus shrugged. "I wouldn't say Tom was quite so innocent either."

Hermione was horrified. What was the point of evaluating the mental health of people in the prison system and identifying triggers for violence if some of them were innocent to begin with? She wanted to make a difference, and it seemed that she had stumbled into an interesting dilemma: should she continue to try to change the system or try to scrub it clean of the filthy layers of corruption. She left Severus' office extraordinarily uncomfortable.

Hermione walked home in silence. The sweat trickling down her neck really didn't help the situation. What was she to do? The evening passed quickly, and she awoke to the same dream she had every night. Tangling her hair up into a loose bun and sliding on a pressed skirt, Hermione once again headed out to the prison.

It felt like a blur. It was difficult to concentrate on collecting data points without wondering which points were inaccurate due to the failures of the justice system.

Her next patient, Fenrir Greyback, shuffled into the cramped interview room. Hermione was acutely aware of their proximity because of his stench. She tapped on her recorder and began the session.

"So what are you in here for, Fenrir?"

"Horcrux got me in here, and it'll keep me here," he rasped.

Hermione made note on her clipboard of his matted hair, his brown teeth, and glassy eyes.

"I see… Now could you tell me about your first time using horcrux? Where were you, who gave you access?"

"My first time usin', well, I got it near Knockturn Alley. Had some friends around there. We all worked shit jobs. Liivin' just to survive, y'know? And actually," he scratched his ear then cackled. "Actually, the same people sell me horcrux! Wanna know a secret?" He leaned forward, "Officer Bellatrix Black takes tokens."

"As in Prison Officer Bellatrix Black? What are tokens?"

"Same one!" giggled Fenrir. His hands were beginning to tremble. "That Bellatrix, she's a nasty one! I'd kill for a quick shag with her and a hundred milligrams of horcrux."He ignored her question about tokens.

Hermione watched as the shaking spread to his whole body. He was practically vibrating in his seat. He's filthy teeth chattered together.

"Got some more questions, Doc?"

Hermione, despite having many more questions, shook her head, "Well Fenrir, the hour's almost up anyway. Should I send you to the infirmary?"

Fenrir rolled his eyes and chattered out, "No thanks, it'll pass soon enough. They never take your tokens if you have to go to the damn nurse."

Hermione frowned, "Please, I'd rather just call-"

"I'll take my chances. Now get me the fuck out of here."

Hermione had been dreading her next session with Tom, and it came all too quickly. He had an enormous smirk on his face as he entered the room.

"Hello, Hermione," he made himself comfortable in the cold, metal, interview chair. She hesitantly clicked the recorder on. Tom waited for her to speak.

"Well, I spoke to Snape…" she trailed off, unsure where to start. Was Tom actually innocent? She felt disgusted with herself for thinking of him and treating him as if he was guilty, and she had no idea how to approach the situation. Moreover, a prison guard potentially selling drugs to an inmate? Tokens? Where was she to begin?

Tom's lips were pursed, as if he were suppressing a smile.

"I trust you are beginning to understand what I meant before. Oh, Hermione, it only gets worse. Trust me, this isn't a good place," Tom leaned toward her. "You want to know more secrets?"

Hermione's mouth was completely dry.

"How about we talk a little bit more about you first, and then we discuss this place," she said, hoping to god he would let her gain control of the conversation.

Tom nodded slowly, and sat back in his chair.

"So did you kill Myrtle?"

Tom laughed, "Well, you certainly cut right to the chase. I didn't kill her. I really don't touch horcrux, disgusting stuff, y'know?"

Hermione did know. After seeing Fenrir, she had trouble understanding why anyone would subject themselves to that kind of torture.

"So Lucius framed you?"

"I wouldn't say it in such strong terms around here. Lucius doesn't take kindly to anyone who speaks out of line."

"Does he know about any guards involvement with horcrux?"

Tom gave her a mischievous smile. "Now, now Hermione, you know the rules. You give me a favor, and I'll give you a secret."

Hermione glanced at the recorder and back at Tom.

"What do you want?"

Tom smirked and looked her up and down, "I could think of a couple of things, actually."

Hermione flushed.

Tom leaned forward in his chair again, his eyes glittering. "How's Ron?"

Hermione frowned, and Tom laughed. "Ron won't mind if I just touch your hair, right? Let me touch your hair, Hermione. That's the cost for today."

Hermione grimaced. His hands were handcuffed to the table, so she would have to get up and walk to his side of the table. Was it even worth it?

"How do you know this stuff, anyway?" she asked.

"Well, that's another secret with a much steeper cost, but I will say this. Draco and I were friends, and I've seen the way he and his father conduct themselves."

Tom's laughing eyes met her frustrated ones. Eventually, she stood up and sighed. She would exchange her dignity for the good of all the people whom the justice system had failed. Walking over to him, she could feel him scanning her body, watching her every move.

She had to let down her hair from its bun, then lean over the table for him to feel it. While she initially found it utterly degrading, there was something about the way his fingers ran through her curls, the way they gently caressed each strand. He stroked it almost as if he had known her before. Tom's hand reached higher and higher, until he almost touched her face. The chains prevented him from reaching further, but he suddenly yanked her hair, pulling her face down, inches from his own.

"The answer you're looking for, yes, Lucius knows. You might even say he encourages it," Tom whispered. "And Hermione, we both know there's no boyfriend. So you owe me one more favor for lying to me last time."

She stumbled away from him.

"Don't worry, I won't force you to do the extra favor now. And also here's a tip free of charge: go talk to Mr. Borgin on Knockturn Alley. He's an interesting character witness for Lucius."

Hermione massaged her temples. How could she both thoroughly study inmate mental health and investigate the warden of those inmates? As a guest in the prison facilities, wasn't that some sort of breach in conduct?

Tom was searching her eyes. His own were light brown- almost golden.

She was still standing, yet she felt as if the air between them was electric. It was almost painful. She felt paralyzed, trapped by his compelling, intense, amber eyes.

"We'll see how much you actually want to change the world, Hermione."

The weather was absolutely insufferable. It made her already unmanageable hair even worse. Sweat slid down her back and thighs. She wiped her sticky forehead and walked faster toward Knockturn Alley. She had discovered Mr. Borgin ran a pawn shop on the south end of the alley, and she was burning with anticipation. The weather, however, was making her almost dizzy.

Eventually, she reached a dark building with a dull, lit-up "Borgin and Burke's" sign. As she entered the shop, she was closely tailed by a scruffy, short man in a loose, stained t-shirt.

He pushed past her and bee-lined toward the shop owner, whom she assumed to be Mr. Borgin.

The scruffy man dropped three telephones in front of Borgin.

"How much is these worth? Reckon' you better give me enough tokens for a hundred-fifty milligrams."

Borgin paused and glanced at Hermione, who pretended she was observing the assortment of items for sale.

"These jail broken, Pettigrew? Last time the phones wouldn't stop ringing. I can't give you tokens if I can't resell them."

Pettigrew desperately pleaded with Borgin that the phones, indeed, were jail broken, and that he would never ever steal. Eventually, Borgin gave in and handed Pettigrew twelve stamped, round tokens that Hermione could not quite make out.

Pettigrew protested, "This'll get me a hundred-twenty! You owe me more!"

Borgin noticed Hermione's open staring and glared at Pettigrew.

"You, get out! Or you won't be getting anything, next time!"

Pettigrew trudged out, slamming the door behind him. Borgin smiled politely at Hermione, revealing a row of scraggly, yellow teeth. Hermione attempted to smile back.

"I'm here about Lucius Malfoy."

Borgin raised his bushy brows.

"I'm here to ask you about Lucius Malfoy," she tried again.

"Well, what about him, girl? You here for tokens? Sorry, but you don't exactly look the type."

"U-um… Actually, I am the type. I want tokens," she stuttered.

"How do you know about Lucius?"

"I work at the prison," she semi-lied, "and I wanted some tokens."

"Oh, I see. You want to resell them. Well, sorry. I won't sell them to you. Ask Lucius for tokens, or better yet, skip the whole token purchase and buy horcrux from him yourself. I don't trust you, girl."

Hermione shakily nodded her head and left.

Horcrux. She didn't feel the heat as she walked home. Her mind was stuck on horcrux and tokens and Lucius Malfoy's role in it all.

What had she walked into? And equally mysterious, what was Tom Riddle's role in this whole mess? How did he know so much, and why was he seemingly giving away his knowledge for free?

A/N: heyyy, updated faster than normal, but I really wanted to keep going. If you have time, pleeeease leave a review ily :)))