helllllllo! i'm really happy because i got this posted before i thought i would. i was supposed to go out of town to shoot something for a tv show yesterday, but it got cancelled, then we had a winter storm coming so school let out at noon yesterday, and then there was no school today. so yay! but this chapter is kind of short, sorry :/

disclaimer: i own nothing.

Draco wasn't aware if Hermione saw the way that Tom Riddle stared at her that first night. If she was, she ignored it, so Draco decided it would be safe to not bring it up.

He was laying in his emerald four-poster in the Slytherin first year boy's dormitory, flipping through a book he dug out of his trunk. Much to his dismay, he couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn't sure if he was nervous about sharing a room with a young Lord Voldemort, or pissed about having to repeat seven years of schooling again. Some part of him knew it was both, though he wouldn't really admit to it aloud.

He sighed softly, looking up from his book, eyes tired. Lord Voldemort – or, as he should say, Tom Riddle – occupied the bed to the left of his own. Thankfully, the boy was sleeping, and couldn't feel Draco's eyes trained on him, burning holes through his skin. Draco felt a strong wave of hatred wash over him for someone he technically didn't know. The thought of what the seemingly innocent boy would become over the next fifty years was enough to make bile rise in his throat.

He sighed, closing his book and shoving it back into his trunk. It was weird, sharing a dorm with people he would know in the future. Especially his own grandfather, Abraxas, who was snoring on the other side of the dormitory. Moving quietly to the door and checking over his shoulder to make sure he didn't wake anyone up, Draco gently slid out, and made his way to the common room. Much to his surprise, Hermione was there, sitting on a couch nearest to the fire.

He sat down without saying anything, and for a moment he was unsure if Hermione even knew he was in the room. She stared into the fire, eyes glazed over.

Suddenly, she sighed, moving her eyes from the fire to stare at him. "Can't sleep?"

Draco nodded, looking over to the fire.

"I still can't get over the fact that I'm in Slytherin. Me, the brightest witch of my generation, Harry Potter's best friend, in Slytherin!" She slowly shook her head, watching the flames dance inside the fireplace.

"It's not that bad, you know," Draco said, running a hand through his hair, almost annoyed when the curly brown mess flopped over his eyes.
"How?" Hermione asked, disbelieving.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. It's just not as bad as you think. You'll get used to it."

Hermione didn't say anything. The two stayed there, staring into the flames, until neither could keep their eyes open any longer.

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Hermione sat down by Draco in Potions the next day, pulling out her book and a piece of parchment. She might have been thrown back in time with who was technically one of her enemies, and she might have to face the young Dark Lord, but at least she still had her schooling to distract her from of that.

Professor Slughorn was already in the room, his chalk charmed to write a few notes on a board behind him. Hermione immediately began writing it all down, her quill moving quickly across the parchment.

She heard Draco sigh beside her. "Must you always be so eager to learn, Granger?" He muttered to her, placing his book on his desk. Hermione rolled her eyes, but chose not to answer. Professor Slughorn cleared his voice from the front of the room, and all the first years looked up.

"Good morning!" Slughorn said, his voice just as cheerful as Hermione remembered. "Welcome to your first year of Potions. I am Professor Slughorn, those of you in Slytherin may already know me as your head of house, and I will be teaching you Potions during your time here at Hogwarts." He smiled brightly at the crowd of students, grabbing a piece of parchment off of his desk. "Now, I've already assigned you all partners," He said, charming the piece of parchment so it was as big as the board. "Find your name and seat on the chart and quickly sit down!"

Hermione looked up at the chart, scanning for her name. Finally, she found it, seated in the far right hand corner in the back of the room. She felt her heart sink into her stomach when she saw the name of her partner: RIDDLE, TOM.

She looked at Draco, who gave her a pitiful look, before she grabbed her belongings and made her way to the back of the room. Riddle was already there, sitting down, watching her approach.

"Hello," She said politely, setting her stuff down on the desk. She wanted to turn around and run and scream, and standing so close to him made her feel faint and sick, but she remained calm. "I don't believe we've met; I'm Hermione Pope."

Riddle didn't say anything, but continued looking at her, a curious glint in his eyes. "Is Draco Pope your twin?"

"We're not twins; I was born in September one year and he was born in June the next year. Our parents wanted us to be very close in age."
Riddle nodded, but didn't say anything. Feeling extremely uncomfortable and awkward, Hermione sat down in her seat and situated her books and parchment on her desk.

Slughorn began lecturing, and Hermione went back to her notes, writing as much information as he possibly could. She was in the middle of copying down notes on how potion ingredients are picked when Riddle leaned over to her, whispering in her ear, "Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Tom. Tom Riddle."

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September 19, 1938

September seemed to go by rather quickly. Hermione tried her best to get along with Draco and she also tried to avoid Tom as much as possible, which turned out to be difficult, because he was literally everywhere. In the common room, right next to her in Potions, sitting not too far away in the rest of her classes, in the library... she could not escape Tom Riddle.

She laid in her bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. It was September 19; her birthday. She was now technically only twelve, though she turned nineteen what was supposed to be a couple months ago. She felt a twisting in her stomach, thinking back to her past few birthdays. This will be the first once she's spent without Harry and Ron since her original twelfth birthday. She sighed, sitting up and making her way to the bathroom. She couldn't just lay in bed all day, after all. Attending class is much more important than dwelling on the past, Hermione reminded herself, brushing her teeth vigorously. She spit her tooth paste into the sink and wiped her mouth off, staring at her reflection. She hadn't noticed her eyes had changed to match Draco's until about a week ago, and now seeing herself with grey eyes made her realize how much she actually loved her brown eyes. They were plain, sure, but they were normal. Having Draco Malfoy's grey eyes was not normal. Being in this time period was not normal. She missed normal.

She slowly walked into her dormitory and walked back towards her bed. Her roommates were just waking up, groggily getting out of bed. Hermione hurried and dressed – she had yet to actually have a conversation with any of her roommates, much like during her original first year. She felt slightly odd at not having any friends, again. Well, she had Draco, but that didn't really count, did it? He was supposed to be her brother, sure, but were they actually... friends?

Hermione shook her head. No, she told herself, situating her bag around her shoulder. She had Defense Against the Dark Arts and Herbology this morning, and even though she had sat through the same exact lessons already, she loved hearing them taught by different Professors. It's fascinating to see how a Professor, who has been teaching the subject for years and years, still gets excited and passionate about teaching it over and over. At least, Hermione found it fascinating.

She hurried to the Great Hall, where Draco was already sitting with a few boys he shared his dorm with. Hermione sat down to his right, grabbing a piece of toast and buttering it.

Draco slightly turned to her, giving her a small smile. He was getting good at this "pretend we're siblings" thing. "Happy birthday, 'Mione."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, but she quickly composed herself. Draco knew it was her birthday?

She smiled. "Thank you."
"Would have never guessed she was older than you, Pope!" One of his roommates said. Hermione looked at the boy who spoke, and felt her heart swell at his resemblance to Sirius. He could have been him, he looked so much like him.

Draco smiled, but said nothing to the boy. "Hermione, this is Alphard Black," He said, nodding towards him. "And that's Dominic Rosier. You already know Abraxas Malfoy,"

Hermione smiled at the three boys. "Hello, nice to meet you," She said to Black and Rosier. She felt her stomach flip again as she realized Rosier was another future Death Eater, mentally making a list of all of them she'd met so far.

"So Hermione, seems like someone's got their eye on you," Abraxas Malfoy's voice came from the otherside of Draco. Hermione leaned forward so she could see him, brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

Malfoy, Rosier and Black all started laughing. "Don't tell me you haven't seen the way Riddle's always staring at you!"

Hermione felt her stomach flip again and shared a quick look with Draco before turning back to the other Slytherins, a passive mask sliding over her face. "Tom Riddle does not stare at me."
"Yes he does!" Rosier jeered, laughing loudly. "You should've seen him in the common room last night! You'd of thought you'd grown a second head!"

Hermione felt her cheeks grow pink as the boys laughed at Riddle's expense. Sure, he had grown into a monster, but he hadn't done anything yet. He didn't even talk to anyone. "And what is so humorous about this, again?"
"It's funny because Riddle's a freak," Malfoy said, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth, reminding Hermione vaguely of Ron. "He never talks except to answer questions in class. He reads a lot. He doesn't have any friends. I bet he's not even a pureblood."

Though Hermione knew this was true, she felt the need to protect him. She caught Draco's eye out of her peripheral vision, hoping he wouldn't correct what she was about to say. "He's obviously a pureblood; if he wasn't, he wouldn't be in Slytherin," She said to the boys, gathering her stuff together. "Just because you've deemed him a freak doesn't mean he's automatically a half-blood or a muggleborn." She glanced towards the door and found the boy they were discussing walk in, taking a seat by himself at the end of the table. Deciding to spite Draco and his friends, she decided to sit with him. She smirked at the four as she stood up. "If you'd excuse me, I have someone to speak to."

She didn't realize how entirely foolish her plan was until she reached the end of the table and stood across from Tom, who was reading a book. It took a moment before he looked up and met her gaze. If he was shocked, Hermione couldn't tell; he was already a master at masking his emotions. She smiled cheerfully at him, hiking her bag farther up on her shoulder. "Hello, do you mind if I sit with you?"

Riddle was quiet for a moment, and Hermione was half sure he was going to tell her to leave him alone.

"Go ahead," he said, his voice soft and raspy, still half asleep.

Hermione couldn't help the look of shock that came across her face as she sat down, dropping her bag to the floor. Riddle was quiet, and Hermione was almost sure that he wouldn't speak to her again when his voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"They don't like me much, do they."

Hermione glanced up, and didn't need to follow Riddle's line of sight to know who he was talking about. She could still faintly hear Draco and his friends laughing.

"They're irrelevant," She said, slightly shrinking back when Riddle met her eyes. His own were dark blue and cold, like the Arctic Ocean. She felt like she could drown in them.

"They think I'm a freak."

Hermione shrugged. "They think you're a freak because you read a lot and because you don't seem to have any friends. But that makes me a freak, too. I adore reading, and I don't have any friends. Unless you count Draco, which I don't, since he's my brother." Hermione forced herself to shut up, knowing she was saying too much.

Before Riddle could reply, the mail came in, owls dropping low over the tables to deliver letters, the Daily Prophet, and packages. The Pope family owl swooped down in front of Hermione, dropping a package in front of her. A letter was attached to the package.

Dearest Hermione,

Happy birthday, Darling! So hard to believe our little girl is already 12 years old... you'll be all grown up before you know it! We've sent you several books – we know how keen you are on reading, darling, so we know the books will go to good use. Have a fabulous birthday, and give your brother our love.

Love you,

Mum and Dad x

Hermione read the letter twice, sighing. She didn't notice Tom looking at the package, curiously. "What's that for?" He asked, eyes sliding from the package to her face.

"Oh, it's just some books my parents sent me. For my birthday."
"It's your birthday?" Tom asked, looking back to the books.

"Yes." Hermione responded. "Would you like to accompany me back to the common room? I'd like to put these away before class starts."
Tom looked at her, curiosity still lingering in his eyes. Finally, he muttered a 'sure', standing up and walking alongside her to the doors of the Great Hall. Hermione could feel Draco's eyes burning into her back, and for once, she did not care.

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Hermione's birthday passed rather quickly, and before she knew it, dinner was over and she was heading to the library to finish some homework. Granted, it wasn't due for another two days, but she wanted to sty on top of things.

She situated herself at a table in the far corner, opening her Defense Against the Dark Arts book to finish writing her essay on curses and their effects when used properly. She sighed contently whilst writing, feeling the smallest sliver of normality available to her here. She smiled down at her parchment as she finished her essay, running it up and carefully putting it away. She put her Defense book back into her bag and began digging around for another book when she saw a pair of feet stop beside her desk. She slowly looked up to none other than Tom Riddle.

"Hello," she said politely, sitting up. Riddle didn't say anything. She cocked her head slightly, staring at him. Was he going to say anything?

"Riddle, if you're not-"

"Don't call me that."
Hermione felt her confusion grow. "Pardon?"
"Don't call me that. Riddle. My name is Tom. You know that."
"Okay... Tom." Hermione suddenly felt uncomfortable. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Tom sneered. "No, there isn't something you can help me with. Silly girl."

Hermione could see him true personality coming up, and stood up to leave. "All right then... I'll just go." She had turned around when his hand wrapped around her wrist, his hand cool and smooth against her own.

"I'm sorry," He said, turning Hermione to face him. "I'm not very good at these kinds of things."
"What kinds of things?" Hermione ased. She didn't understand.

"Do you remember what you said at breakfast this morning, about how is reading and having no friends made me a freak then it made you a freak, too?"
"Yes," Hermione said slowly, studying him. She was almost certain he was manipulating her. After all, this is Tom Marvolo Riddle we're talking about.

"Well, I was wondering. Since you don't have any friends, and I don't have any friends, if you'd like to... be friends. With me."

Hermione stared at him. She was Hermione Jean Granger, proud muggleborn witch, who had the word mudblood carved into her arm, and was the best friend of the boy who would eventually kill the child before her. How could he possibly be friends with her? Of course, he doesn't know any of that, Hermione reminded herself. He thinks I'm hermione Pope, pureblood witch, member of the noble Pope family. She mused this over and her head, trying to make a decision. It would be insane – completely mental – for her to become friends of any sort with Tom Riddle. She knew what he would one day become, how absolutely psychotic and dangerous he would be. She would possibly be risking her own safety by becoming friends with him.

But, on the other hand, she could use this to her advantage. She could destroy his horocrux's immediately after he made them. Or, better yet, she could prevent him form ever making them! She could prevent Myrtle's death, keep Lily and James alive... Lily and James... her heart swelled at the thought of Harry growing up with his actual family instead of those dreadful Dursley's, of Sirius and Remus and everyone else who had died at Voldemort's hands living once more. It would tamper with the timeline, but the theories about it couldn't be true, could it? It wouldn't destroy the fabric of time, would it? Wouldn't it just create a new timeline?

Decision made, Hermione met Tom's eyes and gave him her most sincere smile. "Okay, Tom. We can be friends."

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Hermione returned to her room late that night, exhausted, nearly falling over the threshold into the first years girls dorm. After she and Tom had agreed to be friends, he returned to the common room and she remained in the library until nearly curfew. After checking to make sure she hadn't woke anyone up, she quickly dressed into her pajamas. She was about to crawl into bed when she saw it.

'It' was a very small package on her pillow, with a little tag hanging off of the side. Hermione slowly picked up the little box, inspecting it. She was positive none of the girls knew her birthday was today, who could the little package possibly be from?

With nimble fingers, she gently grabbed the card, reading the neatly scribed message several times. To my new friend. Happy birthday. -Tom.

But how did he get inside the girls dorm? Hermione momentarily pushed that thought to the back of her mind, slowly unwrapping the small box. She didn't know what to expect as the small box slid into her palm. She eyed it for a moment, shaking it as well, before pulling the lid off.

Inside the box, wrapped in a small piece of cloth, was a ring. The band was silver, and an onyx stone sat in it's center. Hermione stared at the ring. It was beautiful, of course, but where had Tom gotten it? Was it safe?

Hermione clutched the ring in her palm for a few minutes, and when she didn't feel any magic coming off of it, she deemed it safe enough to wear. She slowly slid the ring onto her ring finger; a perfect fit. She continued staring at the ring, thinking of all the possible reasons Tom Riddle would have given her a ring. Hermione finally shrugged it off as she drifted off into a deep sleep.

Hermione did not know Tom Riddle as well as she thought she did, however, and had no idea how possessive the boy could be. Whether she knew it, and whether she liked it, she was now his. And he did not take kindly to sharing.

make sure you review and let me know what you think!

also, i will be posting updates for this on my tumblr, which can be found on my page. i hope you enjoyed this chapter!