CHAPTER FOUR

Hermione was sitting on the floor by her window in her Gryffindor dormitory, in the middle of a battle her comb and her stubborn hair. She was still dripping with bath water and, theoretically, it should be easier to force a comb through her thick, curly, dark hair. The clouds that had been fluffing the campus with snow drifted away, allowing the moon to make an appearance in the darkening sky. Hermione decided to wear her hair down but part away from the middle. If she must be in the '40's, she might as well look the part.

Besides chap stick, the only makeup she wore was black mascara. Hermione didn't want to give the impression that she was trying to seduce Tom any further. Also, she didn't want to raise any of her dorm-mates suspicions that she wasn't going to sleep with them tonight. Hermione hoped that she had made the right decision to go. In fact, she could reconsider at any moment.

But, she had to admit that her continued refutes of his advances would eventually ward him off. If Hermione wanted to be close enough to him to change him and the future, she would have to start making her own 'advances'.

"Why did you keep it a secret?" asked Emily, the blond girl that occupied the bed across from Hermione's.

Hermione yanked her comb through the final stubborn knot in her non-compromise-able hair before blinking blearily at the girl to feign tiredness, "About what?"

Two other girls chorus with Emily, "Tom! Why didn't you tell us you liked him?"

Hermione yawned, "I would have been lying. But, now he's ... consuming me."

Almost all of the girls in the dorm sighed with envy and Emily smirked over at Hermione, "I knew he'd have you under his spell in no time."

Hermione rolled her eyes, set her comb on her nightstand, and climbed onto her bed in her nightdress, "Anyone know a counter-jinx for it?"

All the girls laughed at Hermione's 'joke', though she hadn't been entirely silly about it. Hermione lifted her bedcovers that the house elves had tidied away and enveloped herself beneath them. After listening to the girls gossip over the new 'high-profile couple of Hogwarts' for over an hour, all the girls except Hermione fell asleep. It was a Friday night and there were no classes set for the following day. This usually meant that the Gryffindors, and probably the other three houses as well, stayed up into the wee hours of the night.

Hermione waited an extra ten minutes to be certain that all the girls were fast asleep, most likely dreaming of the boy Hermione was about to risk meeting in the Clock Tower. She carefully sat up in her bed and draped her legs over the side. She pushed the covers quietly off her nightgown and gingerly stepped down from her bed. Hermione peered around at the sleeping girls once more before pulling her nightgown up over her head. Beneath it, she was wearing a calf-length reddish-grey skirt that fanned out around the base.

Her white button-down t-shirt was tucked into the high-waist skirt and she was wearing thick cotton stockings. As she exited the dorm more quietly than a ghost, she snatched her cloak to keep her warm in the chilly corridors. Also, it would deter any attention to her bosom which was a little too endowed for the shirt. Hermione wished she had Harry's invisibility cloak and any thoughts that strayed to her greatly missed friends and family made her large brown eyes well with tears. Although she was almost fifty years in the past, she still knew the castle's layout like the back of her hand.

Her feet carried her to the Clock Tower while her mind distracted her with depressing thoughts of those she missed so dearly. The pain of being alone without them almost made her forget why she was wandering the Hogwarts corridors past curfew. Hermione looked up at the sound of the enormous clock ticking by what time she had left. Hermione was about to cross the doorless threshold into the Clock Tower when she felt like she wasn't alone.

Out from the shadows came the snickers of a few boys and Tom Riddle's deep voice, "See, my friends? She is mine."

Hermione froze like a doe in the headlights of an oncoming car, only in this circumstance the light was from an illuminated wand. Tom was standing in the very back corner by a stack of wooden boxes coated in dust and cobwebs, towering over every boy flanking him. Hermione could not see Tom's face hidden beneath the shadows, only the outline of his staggering body. The rest of the boys she could see. They were the future Death Eaters Avery, Lestrange, Rosier, Yaxley, Nott, Mulciber, Dolohov, and Selwyn.

"Ah, my lord, you've got good taste in women." said Avery impulsively.

So, they were already referring to Tom as the dark lord. She wondered if he was calling himself 'Lord Voldemort' yet. Hermione's welling eyes flickered from all of their faces to Tom's still hidden in darkness. This was a mistake, a stupid mistake, a huge mistake. Hermione touched the base of her wand stowed in the waistband of her skirt for comfort.

"She's a beauty," sneered Yaxley.

Hermione took an instinctive step backwards, ready to fight or run or both.

Nott chuckled with Yaxley, "Nice body."

Laughed Avery, "I can hardly tell with that hideous Gryffindor cloak around her."

Yaxley stepped forward after glancing in Tom's direction, "Let's unburden her."

"I bet her tits will perk quite nicely in the chill," said Nott as he followed Yaxley.

Hermione's eyes lit with outrage and her tongue was set to curse the boys -

"Do not touch her," said Tom, his deep voice was not angry but still dripped with danger, almost more impressive than the latter.

Hermione's raspberry lips closed at his voice, her hand now clutched tightly around her wand. Tom stepped forward into the wand light. Unlike the rest of his gang, whom were wearing sensible clothes to be warm, Tom was only wearing a white long-sleeved button-down shirt un-tucked over his black uniform pants and his black shoes.

Tom stood between his followers and Hermione with his back to her, "Where have your manners gone, gentlemen?" Some of them chuckled quietly before being silenced by the icy look Tom gave those who dared to find humor in his question. Tom sneered and shook his head down at Yaxley, "That is no way to talk to a lady."

Hermione felt like she might lose her voice if she didn't speak up soon, "Tom, I'm going back to my common room. Goodnight."

Tom turned to her and smiled gently, "Stay." He bent down greatly to whisper in her ear so that none of the others would hear, "I want to share my world with you. Is that not what you asked of me?"

He pulled his face away to loom over her. Hermione blinked her welling eyes dry before asking, "Aren't you worried we'll all get caught?"

"Nothing's ever linked back to us -" said Nott but he stopped abruptly when Tom held up a hand to silence him.

Tom chuckled down at Hermione, "It has never happened in all my six and a half years here, my lady."

Hermione glanced from his eyes down to the future killers slouching against the stone walls. She swallowed deeply and chose to say teasingly but with strength, "Only if we're doing something that would interest me. What are we doing?"

Tom's brow twitched in surprise and he smiled, "You keep proving my judgments wrong, Granger. You definitely take my interest."

Hermione scoffed, "Well, you can't 'do' me." The boys against the wall snickered at her choice of words which whatever they had interpreted went completely over Hermione's head. "Where are we going?"

Tom glanced downward and Hermione clutched her cloak tighter to her neck, assuming that he was trying to have a look at her breasts. But, his eyes were focused on her feet and he chuckled, "You'll require shoes."

"Only Gryffindors are allowed in here I'm afraid, Mr. Riddle." teased the Fat Lady.

Tom tilted his head and smiled, "I won't tell if you won't, beautiful."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the fact that even a portrait could hardly withstand his charm. The Fat Lady caught this and rounded on her, "You're supposed to be in bed at this hour, young lady."

"We're studying together for Transfiguration," lied Tom, drawing the Fat Lady's eyes back onto him like a magnet. "She distracted me in class so now she has to help me."

Hermione squinted up at Tom and parted her lips to deny it but the Fat Lady spoke, "Well, that's better than any punishment I could deal out -"

"You're a painting," said Hermione irritably, "you can't do anything to me."

The Fat Lady looked flabbergast, "I could not allow you entry."

Tom leaned over the portrait and the Fat Lady looked up at him, "For me? I need her."

Hermione turned away from both of them. Sure, Tom needed her ... but not for homework. If she failed to change him, she would fail to save numerous lives. She decided to look pleadingly at the portrait.

The Fat Lady gave Hermione one last glare before sighing, "Password?"

"Unicorn Hair," said Hermione with what she hoped was a grateful smile.

The Fat Lady begrudgingly swung inward for Hermione to cross the threshold and Tom said to the portrait, "I'll just wait out here with you. It's been a while since I've visited. I must apologize. Are you still good friends with Violet?"

Once the portrait was closed again Hermione broke into a run to the winding staircase to the girls' dormitories, her cloak billowing in her wake. She quietly tied her black uniform shoes at the foot of her four-poster bed, her cloak now lying on her bed, deciding whether to just climb back into her bed and ditch Tom. No, she told herself, you've already come this far. You're closer to his heart now. Remember your real friends and family.

Don't give-up. Hermione peered around at the sleeping girls who were evidently unaware that she was not dreaming with them. She was about to crawl on her hands and knees to leave when her hand touched a soft fabric. Hermione looked down and saw Tom's scarf that she had kicked underneath her bed. She sat back down on the ground and looked from it to the door twice before slowly draping it loosely around her neck.

Hermione's hair was now completely dry and fluffy around her thin face. At least it was lighter now that water was no longer weighing it down. It curtained her face as she crawled across the floor, trying to avoid trodding on Tom's scarf or making any sound. She tiptoed down the spiral staircase and jogged over to the portrait.

Hermione took a deep breath and whispered to herself, "I wish Ron and Harry were here with me."

She pushed open the portrait and saw Tom backing away to give her space, "I'm ready now."

"You certainly took your time," whined the Fat Lady before batting her lashes up at Tom. "Not that I wouldn't have minded a little more time."

"I bet you wouldn't," said Hermione under her breath as she started descending one of the many staircases before it would change.

Tom grinned down at Hermione's back over his shoulder before departing from the Gryffindor portrait, "So sorry to leave so soon. I'll come by again later."

"Take care, handsome." cooed the Fat Lady with a wave of her chubby hand, adding in an undertone as he turned away, "Such a nice boy."

Tom was soon at Hermione's side, "I bet its killing you that you don't know where we're going."

"Nice choice of words, Tom." said Hermione impassively.

Then she realized with a skip of her heartbeat that she had left her cloak on her bed and that her breasts were bouncing along with her stride down the steps. Hoping that Tom had not noticed, Hermione tried to situate herself so that he would not be able to watch them.

She should have known better than to think Tom wouldn't notice something different about her.

He said, "We'll go back to the Clock Tower. I've left my coat there, you can use it."

Hermione was surprised by the gesture, wondering why he wouldn't take advantage of the fact that her shirt was a little tight. He had not changed enough for her to give him credit. She supposed that he was just trying to act like the gentleman he was not.

Hermione stopped in her tracks, crossing her arms beneath her bosom, "Tell me where we're going or I'll tell you where I am going."

She indicated with her head the staircase they had just descended. Tom smirked, "No need for threats, my lady. I just wanted it to be a surprise."

"No offense, but, I think your idea of a surprise would scare me." admitted Hermione.

Tom sighed and tilted his head while staring into her big brown eyes, "It's just an abandoned house in Hogsmeade. Well, more like a shack. I go there with my mates sometimes."

Hermione frowned up at him, "The Shrieking Shack?"

Now Tom furrowed his brows, "The what?"

Of course, thought Hermione, Lupin has not attended Hogwarts yet. Hermione shrugged her shoulders, "Never mind. But, I've been there before."

There was a certain glint in Tom's eyes that sent chills down her spine, "When, my lady?"

Hermione gulped, feeling frightened, "It's not like I saw anything in there, Tom. It was empty."

Tom glanced between her eyes, "It's alright. I trust you."

"I wouldn't," Hermione warned teasingly.

Tom grinned, "Maybe you're right. But, I'll take my chances."

They resumed descending the staircase, which Hermione realized had moved while they had stopped to talk. She retorted, "Stop calling me 'my lady'."

Tom chuckled to himself which both annoyed and scared Hermione. She wasn't sure how she felt about the pet-name. But, she was certain that she wasn't ready to be that close to the future killer, even though they had already kissed, to warrant anything other than her birth name.