Disclaimer: This story includes characters and situations that are part of the Harry Potter universe, which is copyright J.K.Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury, etc. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made in the production of this FANFICTION. Not many outside resources were needed this time, but I (as always) made extensive use of the Harry Potter Lexicon when writing this chapter.

Author's Note: In which Tom confronts Ginny, Hermione confronts Tom, and Ginny just leaves instead of confronting Hermione. Lavendar and Parvati are gossips, and Ginny's friends save her sanity. Thanks to everyone who read the previous chapter, and especially those who reviewed, Fantome, Pixie, and EriEka. To those of you who noticed the 'Two prefects' mistake - more and more people keep telling me about it, so I guess it's rather unclear. Thanks for all who did, I shall dutifully go back and change it to 'Two male prefects' which I mistakenly thought was assumed.

Expectations of Grandeur: Chapter 13: Projects, Pet Projects, and Potions

Honestly, Tom thought as he quickly scribbled down notes for his Defence Against the Dark Arts project, with all the extra work he had from ten N.E.W.T.-level classes and prefect duties, the last thing he needed was a pet project in Ginny Weasley. But so long as the thought of her bright red hair surrounding her furious face scratched its way into his thoughts, there was no hope – he had a project in Ginny Weasley. He was going to figure out what was going on in that brain of hers, even though he had no idea of how to do it.

He looked down at his paper just in time to see his hand scribbling down the symbol for thought rather than movement, and he shook his head as he read off the meaning of the last few runes together: preservation of a calm mind. That was what he needed. He let out a short laugh and changed it: protection from intruders and attacks.

"I don't think you have to worry about coming up with ideas for Halloween decorations, Pansy," came Draco Malfoy's aggravating drawl. "I'm sure that's what wonder boy Marvolo is doing right now, isn't it?"

Tom looked up to see a glaring Malfoy staring at him meaningfully, to make it perfectly clear that it hardly mattered if he was doing his homework or not, neither Malfoy nor his girlfriend Parkinson were going to do any work. "Of course," Tom replied, not taking his eyes off of Malfoy. "I've never thought that you would do any work yourself, Malfoy. Laziness comes with feeling entitled for no reason." He smiled a bit at Malfoy's slowly appearing rage, and cleaned up the table in front of him quickly. He didn't want to be in the common room when Malfoy exploded.

Quickly ducking through the wall that guarded the entrance to the Slytherin dungeon, Tom hurried down the hallway before Malfoy could stick his head out and yell, "Get back here, Marvolo! You'll pay for that one!"

Tom ran nearly all the way to the library, and arrived out of breath but laughing to himself. No matter how much he hated the way he somehow was assigned with all the prefect duties, it was worth it to know that Malfoy wouldn't dare hurt him because it meant doing more work, and that Malfoy couldn't lay a finger on him because the other boy was so dense.

Well, considered Tom judiciously, not exactly dense, just lazy. He could have been as successful as Tom, had he actually applied himself to any of his schoolwork. But young Malfoy was too interested in the appearance of being too good for the work to actually get the best grades in his year. Tom let out another chuckle and glanced at the clock. He had arranged to meet Hermione Granger an hour before dinner to work on their joint Defence project.

As it turned out, Tom was entirely pleased to discover that Hermione Granger had beaten Draco Malfoy out in every class for the title of best student. They shared all of their classes together and had a friendly competition going on – to see who could gain the most points for their house by correct answers during class. As of that day, Hermione was ahead by three points, but Tom always caught up in Potions, probably because Snape loved giving points to Slytherin and detested Granger.

But at the moment, it was an hour and a half before the Great Hall would open for dinner, and although all the tables were full of students studying, none of them were inhabited by Hermione Granger. Tom scanned for a Slytherin or a Ravenclaw he could sit by without eliciting arguments, but neither Blaise nor any of the other Slytherins he found acceptable were anywhere to be seen, and the Ravenclaws appeared to have mastered the art of studying in groups just large enough to fill a table. In fact, the only options were to sit at a table alone for the next thirty minutes or associate himself rather adamantly with Ginny Weasley, who was squinting at her textbook, at a table alone.

Tom strode to Ginny's table and slid into the chair across from her, glancing briefly at the book. "Still having trouble with Potions, I see," he commented.

Ginny looked up and glared. "Tom, I thought I told you to leave me alone."

He decided not to let that comment bother him. He knew she had told him to leave her alone, but he certainly wasn't going to accept that decision. Instead of getting angry, he raised one eyebrow. "Where's the harm in helping you with Potions?"

She stuck her notes in between the pages of the Potions textbook and closed it, giving Tom her full attention. "It's not so much the Potions help as the fact that every time you're so much as in the same room as I am I remember my first year. Tom, it's almost like there's a Dementor nearby, but it's only you. That's not a good thing. Then there's the fact that each and every time my brother hears about you and I so much as exchanging two words, he flips out to me, or worse, plans to get you arrested and sent to Azkaban with Harry. And besides, it can't help your reputation in Slytherin to be seen spending so much time with one of Harry Potter's most famous fans."

Tom shook his head. "My problems in Slytherin have nothing to do with my helping you with your Potions homework. But it looks like you have some trust issues."

Ginny's face, which had been honest and emotion laden a second before, snapped closed instantly. "Is that it? Or are there more diagnoses, Doctor Riddle?" Tom sighed. He knew he had made a huge blunder with that statement, but he had no idea of how to mend it. Ginny continued. "And where, pray tell, do you think my trust issues arose? Could it be, perhaps, from the time my best friend almost killed me when I was eleven years old?"

"I didn't know what was going on any more than you did, Ginny," Tom said, quickly and hurriedly. "If you think for one moment that what happened was intentional..." he trailed off, because of course she thought it was intentional. What other option did there appear to be when Tom Riddle, who you've been writing to for so long, pops out of the Diary and tries to murder you? "I know it was my fault," he finally said. "I was older, I should have realized what was going on; I should have done something to stop it. But I couldn't, any more than you could."

Ginny just looked at him, angry tears forming in her eyes. "Do you think that that's acceptable, that I can just forget the most horrible part of my life?"

Tom shook his head adamantly. "No, of course not. Of course you can't forget. I don't expect you to. But I would hope that you could still allow me to help you with your Potions work, if only that."

Ginny was silent for a moment and wiped her eyes embarrassedly. When, finally, she looked back up at Tom, a mischievous glint was in her eye. "Is that an offer to tutor me?" she asked.

Tom laughed out loud. "I guess so," he responded. It would at least be something he could say that Snape had tricked him into, and it would get him out of the Slytherin dungeons. Not to mention allowing a place and time for him to try to understand Ginny Weasley.

"Tuesdays? After dinner?" she asked. He nodded, shrugging. It was as good a time as any. "All right then. But before you go," she opened her book and pointed to a diagram on the page she had been studying, "what on earth are the four stages of the newt eye development, and why do I have to know the difference between live, fresh, dried, and boiled when they all have basically the same characteristics?"

Tom smiled and started to explain.

Twenty minutes later, Ginny was actually laughing about the mistakes she could have made before, to Tom's vast chagrin. "Imagine putting a protodeveloped eye in a potion for alertness, it might dissolve the drinker's eyelids entirely," she laughed as she shook her head. "Thanks so much, Tom," she added, stacking her notes in a neat pile and closing the text book.

"What's this about Tom, Ginny," came a voice from nearby. "His name's Ophicus." Hermione nodded to Tom coolly and passed Ginny a meaningful stare. Behind her, Parvati and Lavender were giggling madly. Turning quickly, Hermione said something tersely but softly to the two of them and they departed in a hurry, snatching glimpses of Tom on their way out of the library. "I'm sure you don't know any Toms," Hermione added, turning back to Ginny.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her older friend and answered, "I'm sure I do, Hermione, and calling him by a false name – any false name – is ridiculous. You might as well call him Vol..." she trailed off, still unable to say the name. "You-know-who."

"I'm not Voldemort," hissed Tom quickly, but neither of them heard him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ginny," replied Hermione with an air of challenging. "This young man has nothing to do with the Tom Riddle that you thought you knew in your first year. Ophicus Marvolo is not a teenaged Dark Lord."

Ginny glanced from Tom to Hermione and picked up her Potions textbook. "I didn't know you had such a degree of experience with Tom, Hermione. Was there another Diary?" When Hermione blushed, she stood angrily. "Ophicus Marvolo isn't a Dark Lord, and neither is Tom Marvolo Riddle," she hissed as she took a step away, "but either of them could probably beat you in a Potions exam."

As she walked away, Hermione shook her head. "You'll have to forgive her, Ophicus," she began, but seeing Tom's face she quickly shut her mouth.

"Forgive her? I'd be surprised if she ever forgave you. Honestly, Miss Granger, you may have intelligence, but you need to learn some tact." He slid his Defence textbook to the side and flipped it open, pulling out his notes. "But I suppose that study skills and social skills rarely intersect."

Hermione looked put out but she said nothing, instead extracting her own notes from her bag. "I can't believe that Professor Quinn actually wants us to do this," she whispered excitedly. "It's incredible. But it means a lot of work, of course. Ron has volunteered to take on some of the prefect duties, I'm sure Malfoy and Parkinson – excuse me, Draco and Pansy – wouldn't mind taking some of yours so you can work on this. I think I can be free Tuesdays after dinner, there's no Quidditch practice so Ron won't be busy and it's Harry's Occlumency lessons so I won't need to keep them in line."

Tom's face didn't reveal any emotion as he said, "I'm busy then."

Hermione nodded very slowly and flattened her notes on the table. "All right, Thursdays then?"

Tom nodded. "Fine. I'll try to get out of prefect duties, but I wouldn't count on Malfoy or the Pug-face to take on any work."

Hermione smiled slightly, almost invisibly, as she turned back to her notes. "Anyway, I think we'd be better off looking at wards of all movement rather than simple Apparition wards – they're more complicated but I'm sure we can handle it. Perhaps also one-directional wards or selective wards, but I haven't found as many resources on those."

Tom's face cracked in a real smile, then. "Hermione," he smirked, "Professor Quinn expects us, at least, to go a bit beyond the books. Look at this." He pushed forward a page at the very back of the Ancient Runes text, in the chapter on practical applications, revealing triangular, square, pentagram, and circular diagrams. "Like I said, it's just Ancient Runes."

Hermione gasped. "You mean..."

"You couldn't read what was written on the founders' ward? It was a simple apparition ward, with strengthening charms in these positions," here he motioned to four choice positions on the round diagram. "But by using a pentagram instead, and altering the placement of the strengthening charms, we can add selectivity and use the founders' own spell for it." He smirked at the amazed look in Hermione's eyes. "And here I thought you had already read your textbooks."

"Of course I have," she quickly said, "but I suppose I was rather tired when I read to that page, I must have forgotten about it. Thank heavens I'm working with you and not Harry or Ron."

Tom chuckled slightly, a natural, deep laugh entirely unlike that attributed to Voldemort. "Don't let anyone hear you say that," he added, looking around suspiciously.

"On that note, Ophicus, they've told me you've been following Ginny around. I'd warn you to stop doing that." She was suddenly stern and not unlike Professor McGonagall.

"And what possible reason do I have to follow your rather sanctimonious direction?" he asked.

"I'll stop them from pummelling you to the ground the next time they see you."

"They wouldn't be able to if they had the chance, Miss Granger."

She shook her head sadly. "Look, I don't know why you want to get to Ginny like this, because the only reason I can think of is you want to get back into the killing Harry business and she's the easiest pawn you can think of, as you've used her before. But she's different now, she's older, and she's closer to us than she was in her first year. You'll be the one who ends up the loser, Ophicus."

Tom grimaced. "Isn't it possible for me to want to help someone with their Potions work without being labelled a Dark Lord hopeful?" He shook his head angrily. "I suppose next they'll think I'm trying to kill you for being Muggle-born because we spend so much time together to work on this project."

Now it was Hermione's turn to sigh in exasperation. "If they think that it's their own problem for being so thick," she replied adamantly.

"Then why isn't it the same with Ginny?"

Hermione paused for a moment and then nodded slowly. "It's really just Potions, then, isn't it?"

Tom only shrugged. Quickly, she packed up her notes and with quick goodbye she was gone. Tom was, for the first time in what felt like much too long, alone. Soon dinner would begin, but he found that for once he wasn't hungry in the slightest. He settled down to do the rest of his homework, and perhaps brainstorm ideas for Halloween decorations. Halloween was coming up, and with it the first Hogsmeade weekend.

Tom, of course, would not be going on this or any Hogsmeade visit. Snape had refused point-blank to sign any forms, and Dumbledore had appeared bemused but given no signature. So Tom was to be left alone for the Hogsmeade weekend, as well. It hardly mattered, it wasn't as though he had much business in Hogsmeade anyway. No one disturbed him for the rest of the evening, before Madame Pince sternly sent him back to his dormitory when the library was closing. He was left to slowly make his way back to the dungeon, mind full of Ginny Weasley and not much else.

Ginny, on the other hand, was anything but alone at that moment. Lavender and Parvati were just leaving her group of friends, having stopped to inquire exactly what she was doing with Ophicus and why she was calling him Tom. Ginny mentally winced; she would have to be more careful in the future. Jeannette was talking to her over the roar of other students eating dinner. "That's the second time you've called him Tom, Ginny. Who is he?"

Ginny shook her head quickly, returning to the present. "He's Ophicus Serpens Marvolo, of course. Who were you expecting, You-know-who?"

Jeannette shuddered at the mention. "No, of course not, but..."

Amelia spoke up. "He takes a strange interest in you, of course, and you've been calling him Tom just like your Diary in first year. It's only natural we think something's up."

"Ophicus is such a mouthful, why wouldn't I call him Tom? What would you suggest for a nickname?"

Gwen sighed in anger when Elisa suggested 'Kevin.' "That's not the point, Elisa," she muttered. "But Ginny, you still haven't said a thing about how you know Marvolo, whether he would rather be called Tom or Ophicus or Ophie or whatever."

Ginny paused. "There's nothing to say about it," she said quietly.

"Look, Ginny," Jeannette prodded. "You can tell us anything. We're here to support you. And it could be something entirely mundane, like being third cousins or something. But that's no reason not to tell us anything."

Amelia spoke up. "Right. Because then we get to thinking, what could it be? Did Ginny save him from drowning as a child, starting a deep friendship?"

Gwen smiled. "Have you two been writing each other all summer courtesy of a lonely hearts club?" Fortunately, Elisa said nothing to stop the copious laughter.

Hours later, when Ginny had finally finished her homework and was heading up to bed, Gwen called up to her, "Make sure to say hello to Ophicus from us in your next letter!"

Ginny laughed. She laughed until she got up to her room and grinned widely until she had fallen asleep. Tom didn't seem so bad with friends to make fun of him.