Maybe being expelled really was worth it, if it meant I wouldn't have to see his mocking, dreadfully fake face again.

But no, I realized sadly, as I jotted down the last word of the infuriating Transfiguration essay, I wouldn't just be expelled if I flung an Unforgiveable at Dumbledore. I'd also be thrown into Azkaban – or worse, kicked out of the Wizarding world and have my memory obliviated beyond belief. It wasn't exactly worth that much. I'd let him have a delightful, slow torturous death one day, but for now, he just wasn't worth that much.

A special essay, just for poor ol' me. I was definitely feeling special enough to kill, but the stupid castle had too many limitations.

One day, I'd be able to use my other name. One day, I'd attain freedom for the entire Wizarding world. Abraxas had laughed at the name I'd created, but even he had grudgingly admitted that it had a nice ring to it.

Lord Voldemort. Erm. Didn't sound too friendly, though. Maybe I should remove the "lord" part. Abraxas said that in order to succeed in my plan, I'd need a few friends. Personally, I thought me appointing an army of half a million House Elves seemed far more likely than me making friends.

I was fumbling with my quills for a while, when I heard noises outside. Some girl was arguing with the Portrait. Honestly, the number of fan girls Abraxas had accumulated was annoying me – though I wasn't blaming him. Did these girls know him at all? Sure, I had more or less been ignoring him until fifth year, but when he offered his friendship, I gratefully took it…after doing a complete background research. At first I had thought of him as a useful ally, but we had too many mutual ideas to let it at just that. I had to call him a friend now, even though the word still made me wince.

But then the voice outside said something that made me freeze.

"I need to see Tom Riddle immediately."

No one had approached me after classes before – at least, no student, anyway. It really must have been very important. I briefly wondered if I knew this girl. Then I recalled her strange, firm, demanding voice in my mind, and realized that I didn't know her. Nor did I want to.

Needless to say, the Portrait was startled. It just stupidly continued to ask her for the password.

Two seconds later, I froze for the second time.

"Samira Khola!"

An ancient spell. It could have been from any civilization – I honestly didn't remember if it were Asian or Egyptian – but the spell caused the man in the Portrait to vanish, while simultaneously breaking all the Guard spells I'd fixed.

I wasn't safe. I felt it.

You don't say, a voice in my head said sarcastically. I quickly whipped out my wand.

She barged in with obvious intention to surprise me, and before I could take in her appearance, she had opened her mouth. "Avada Ked – "

"Floran Chorda," I hissed.

The strings broke out from the corners of the room, covering her mouth first. The serpent creepers then proceeded to keep her in place, and I carefully made sure they weren't holding her too hard. I had to find out why she was going to kill me, after all.

She didn't even struggle, and I wasn't surprised. A witch with enough magical knowledge to knock out all magical locks with a single spell would also have the brains to know there isn't any use fighting the Serpents. She even seemed a bit calm about it.

"Who are you?" I demanded, and then felt unusually stupid, because she obviously couldn't reply. She didn't exactly roll her eyes, but I saw the flicker in her orbs that seemed to say, Really now?

Behind her, someone chuckled. I relaxed after I realised who it was.

"I bet someone is feeling like quite the imbecile," said Abraxas, making his way to my side. Then his expression turned serious. "She came out of a portal in the middle of the library. Quite a sight; you'd have enjoyed it."

"Really? What did it look like?" Maybe I knew the spell. It wasn't highly probable, but Hogwarts certainly had one of the most impressive libraries, and it was safe to say I was well acquainted with a majority of the books.

"Honestly?" I couldn't even make out what sort of magic it was. Not that it actually matters to us, "he continued, "But I'm fairly sure it was illegal. Spirals of power, and an intense core. The sucking kind. It sort of looked like the spell you'd tried out last week, Tom, except the object, "He looked at her with narrowed eyes, "Came unharmed."

A spell that resembled the Fenestrus spell. I'd never read about anything like that – the future glimpse spell hadn't even worked for me in the first place. I remembered how disappointed I'd been, knowing I wasn't strong enough. Then again, attempting the spell when I had injuries may not have been the perfect way to deal with it.

I released the coils around her neck, allowing her some sort of head movement. "Have you heard of the Hrudaya Sardus spell?"

A few moments of silence lapsed. Only Abraxas gave me a questioning look.

Then, she nodded.

"You were going to kill me. Quite unnecessarily, may I add, because I don't even know you," I spoke clearly. "I don't actually find you threatening, because you wouldn't be the first, but I do have some questions. And you have no choice but to answer them."

She must have snorted, because the coils around her mouth tightened. I sighed. "Abraxas, please help me."

"Could I know what the Hrudaya Sardus is about first?" he whispered.

"Well, we can't force her into an Unbreakable Vow," I told him, "But this spell forces her into a promise. She won't die if she breaks it, but her memory will be completely erased. She'd just be another mindless, voiceless, desireless being, and that," I mumbled, "Is much worse than dying."

"Neat," he muttered, then turned to her. He carefully picked up the wand she'd let go of, and I relaxed the coils around her mouth. The possibility of her being able to do wandless magic seemed to have occurred to both of us, as I could feel our invisible barriers overlap.

Needless to say, seven seconds later, a spell bounced off the shields.

She sighed.

"Listen," Abraxas started gently, "You are quite obviously in distress, and my friend here has obviously upset you – which, by the way, happens quite often, you'll get used to it – "

I really was a patient wizard.

"-But what you're doing is quite uncalled for. We deserve an explanation," his sentence finished in that cool, firm, Malfoy tone.

She didn't submit to it.

"I have nothing to say to you," she spat, and although it was amusing, I nearly flinched at the contempt in her voice.

"Please don't make this difficult," he was half pleading now. "You're not from here. What do you want?"

"I want Tom Riddle dead," she yelled – and promptly burst into tears.

I was glad Abraxas had managed to keep the room shut, and after a quick silencer, we just stood and watched her cry. I sort of found it funny, a fragile shrimp of a girl bound by creepers, highly resembling a caterpillar, who couldn't even reach out to wipe away her tears – but on seeing Abraxas' half concerned, half cautious gaze, I decided against a smirk. Obviously, this emotional moment was something of importance.

Huh. Who was I kidding? Why would I care about the feelings of a wench who just said she wanted me dead?

The blond sent me a pleading look, but I refused to let go of the coils around her limbs.

"There, there," he said in a gentle voice that made me want to rush across the room and puke all over my Transfiguration essay. "Tom has done a lot of strange things, but he's a friend, and he'd never do something overly cruel."

"That's easy for you to say," she bit out. "You've probably killed all your house elves and women single-handedly, and blamed it on some innocent professor!"

"Hrudaya Sardusua!"

I couldn't help it. How dare she? What did she know about Malfoy's family? What did she know about his pain?

Abraxas' change of expression was quite dramatic. First a flash of hurt, then total surprise and then he let out an indignant, "Tom!"

But it was too late. The spell hit her, and her head threw backwards.

"You will not harm Tom Riddle or Abraxas Malfoy, nor will you guide others to harm them," I dictated, as the spell required me to do. "You will serve as their slave, and warn them against anyone who could cause harm."

I should have added more, about her needing to answer all my questions, but I couldn't hold the spell for too long – so I quickly sealed it. The seal caused her to break out of the creeper's grip and be thrown to the other corner of the room.

"For a few moments, we just stood watching her still form, the pair of us breathing heavily. The air was still pungent with the feel of the powers I'd just transferred, and she in return had given me, although against her will. Then, "She's just unconscious, then? You won't do anything more, right?"

For a minute I contemplated telling him to go fuck himself and Rennervate her stupid back, only to Avada her once she opened her eyes, but then the purpose of supplying her with my powers during the Promise would be quite defeated. "Yes."

He looked at me, his curiosity and fear well concealed, and said quietly, "That was a very dark spell, Tom. I thought we agreed not to go overboard."

"That was hardly overboard!" I growled angrily. ""She wanted to kill me! What did you want me to do, release the coils, give her wand back and apologise for the misunderstanding? "

"Well - "

"She's not from around here, as you so nicely pointed out," I continued coldly. "Someone could have sent her. Maybe Dumbledore knows about my progression."

"Don't be stupid, Tom! He's a right bastard to you, I'll admit, but he's not yet off his rocker." He breathed in sharply, and looked at her form with guilty eyes. "How long will she be asleep?"

"A few hours."

"You think she'll go back to wherever she came from?"

I walked over to her form, hands in pockets, and observed her for a while. "No," I said finally. "I reckon she's smart enough to figure out a loophole. She'll definitely stick around, maybe even convince me to kill myself," I chuckled, and soon he joined me, but the discomfort still hung. I added softly, "If we could change her mind, she'd make a useful ally."

He snorted elegantly. "You don't say?" He walked over. "But how are we going to do that? Where do we start?"

I faced him. "I'm sure she'd love a secure position in Hogwarts."

LEFTYLEFTYLEFTYLEFTYLEFTYLEF TYLEFTYLEFTY

It was quite late when she woke up. She got up suddenly, her eyes comically wide and alarmed, but Malfoy casually handed her a glass of water. She took it almost gratefully, and I wondered for the hundredth time how he managed to pull of the "You can totally trust me" look.

She breathed in and out heavily, and learnt to calm down. "My wand."

I handed it to her slowly. She snatched it.

"I hope you haven't forgotten the Promise," I said, allowing the right amount of coldness in my voice. She didn't seem to be affected, but just nodded.

"Do you have plans to stay here? In Hogwarts?" Abraxas asked quietly.

"I have nowhere else to go."

I successfully ignored the puzzled look Malfoy threw at me. I asked her the next question. "Are you willing to tell me where you come from, or why you're here?"

She seemed a little confused at the way I had put the question, then something struck her, and she smirked. "You didn't include that in the Promise, did you?"

"Couldn't hold the spell," I said, gritting my teeth and mentally cursing Avery for the injuries he'd caused me.

"Whatever. I'm not entitled to tell you anything."

"But you are entitled to follow our other orders," I snarled, "And we do hope you're not stupid enough to sign off your memories."

"Geez, calm down," said Abraxas, and turned to her. "What's your name?"

"Hermione."

"Well, from now on your surname shall be Granger, okay?" he went on, obviously encouraged. "I know the family isn't too uniform with the generations, so –"

She gasped.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his pale brows knitting together.

"H-how do you know the G-grangers?"

He relaxed. "They're a pureblood family. Not overly rich, and quite strict with their bloodlines-"

She breathed in sharply.

He looked a little worried now. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"Fine. I'm fine. Go on, since you've obviously designed a plan for me."

…And the enthusiastic blond lad was back. "We've come up with a cover story for, assuming that you don't already have one, of course," she shook her head, and gestured for him to continue. "Hermione Granger, from London. You've been trained by the Pureblood Tutoring School-"

"What?"

"Oh, you haven't heard of them?" Malfoy seemed surprised, and for that matter, so was I. "Well, conveniently, its being shut down by the Ministry, and you needed an immediate transfer. I read about a section of the Granger family getting involved in the Muggle war a few weeks ago, probably for a change of lifestyle, can't blame them, really. But anyway, they sort of died – "

"What?"

"-So you could be the sole survivor, who just doesn't want the press to know she's alive. Not to mention a new account at Gringott's has been left for you," he said slyly, "But they don't have to know it's new."

She stared at him. "You opened a new Gringott's account for me?"

"I know it was uncalled for," he said uneasily, "But all I had to do was owl a faithful friend, because I honestly thought you'd need it, and - "

She flung her arms around him.

The scene disturbed me. Did she have no shame? Maybe the place she came from didn't have any modest women.

Malfoy, though, didn't seem too bothered, except maybe a little surprised. "Um. You're welcome."

Finally, she let go of him. "I can actually pay you back, though. And what else have you thought of?"

It was a little unbelievable, how the girl who'd insulted the blond boy a few hours before was now ready to get along with him, the minute he mentioned money. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. All women were the same.

"You sort of need to meet the headmaster after this," he said honestly. "I could back you up, if you need connections, but you don't have to worry. Dippet – that's the Headmaster's name – is quite uncaring, and the war bit makes things look understandable."

"Actually, I have come from a battle field," she said simply, throwing us back from surprise. "But I don't want to talk about it. Thank you for all that you have done."

Abraxas swallowed. "Ah, well, as for the night, I think you can have the other bed. I mean, our roommate sort of left - but only if you're okay with it," he added quickly.

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it?" she said, confirming my suspicions about the lack of modesty – or maybe, to put better, abundance of liberty – in the place she came from.

"Erm. Never mind." He swallowed again. "Here, a list of details. Feel free to modify them, but the point is, you need to be prepared. And," this part he added so quietly I nearly missed it, "I know it's too early to say so, but I hope that we can be good friends."

Unsurprisingly, her intense gaze fell on me. She stiffened, turned to look at him, and let out a soft, "I hope so too, Abraxas."

We didn't even ask how she knew his name. If she knew mine, why wouldn't she know the Malfoys?

I set several protection charms before sleeping. Just to be safe. Not that I'd get much sleep, anyway.

A/N: So yes, the rest of the story shall continue in Tom's POV. Do take my warning about changes in the characters. And Hermione might seem a little OOC in the next chapter, but you have to be patient for her to get out of the war questions about the actual story shall be answered chapter by chapter. I might also not be updating for a few weeks, but if you review, I shall happily inform you of when I plan to update. Thank you for reading, and please don't hold back from reviewing!