A/N - Thanks for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting!

XI.

"Hermione, Riddle is waiting outside the the dorm-"

"What?" She questioned, sitting up from where she was laying on one of Gryffindor's common room couches.

"Yeah," Harry rose his brows suggestively, sitting down by her feet. "He wants you to come out and speak to him. He reminded me that he is within his rights as Head Boy to come in."

She groaned. "He wants to talk," she told him, pushing the book she was reading into her bag.

"About what?"

"Magic." She leaned over to kiss his cheek before getting off the couch. "I missed you at dinner, by the way."

"Yeah. I was with Dumbledore."

"Oh," Hermione paused, looking him over. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, you know…just stuff to do with my parents."

"I'm sorry-"

"That wasn't your fault Hermione."

"I know, I just," she sat back down. "We never properly spoke after that. And I let my own issues get in the way of being a friend this semester-"

"But you're happy."

"What?"

He smiled weakly. "You're happier than you've ever been, really. When you're around, you don't have your face in a book –I mean," the both laughed, "aside from just now, but no one else was with you. You're engaged and you want to be here and you aren't pushing your academic agenda-"

"I resent that!" She laughed.

"-down our throats." He shrugged. "If he can do that for you, Ginny is right. It shouldn't matter to us."

She leaned closer and hugged him. "It isn't like that between us. I realized…the other night I realized that I couldn't be what he wants me to be. Who I even thought I was." Hermione stood up shakily. "That's what we have to talk about. Well…that and whatever he has to say to me."

Harry smirked, his eyes catching something behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Luna entering to dorm room with Ron.

"Oi," Ron called, "Riddle is waiting for you, 'Mione."

"Magic," Harry said, his eyes meeting hers with a small smile. Luna filled the space beside him.

"Hi Hermione."

"Hi Luna."

"You look like you have a lot on your mind."

"I do, I…I do."

"Sometimes an objective voice isn't all that helpful. It confuses us with what we think we need."

Hermione hesitated. Murmured, "Thanks, Luna." And quickly left the common room.

.

.

"I don't believe in dark magic-"

"Neither do I."

Hermione paused, and he did too, turning to look at her with a curious gaze. "That's right," she whispered after a moment. They started walking again, close enough to touch but pointedly not. "Power and intelligence," she said, her tone slightly mocking.

The small smile on his lips caused her chest to tighten.

"Anyone with common sense can understand that there is no such thing as light or dark magic," she continued. "There is only intent and expectation."

"So, if mine is to be in control of this world, by any means necessary," he didn't finish his question, he simply let it hang in air.

Hermione swallowed. "What do you want to do with that control?"

"If I am being honest, I don't care."

She frowned, "That's why you support Grindelwald? That's why you've allowed these boys to exist up under you? You're using them to get what you want and letting their ideas corrupt you."

From the corner of her eye, she saw him look at her. "Seems a bit like our relationship, doesn't it?"

Hermione folded her arms over her chest-

"Are you cold?"

The wind had picked up, but that wasn't it.

"No," she said. "I'm uncomfortable."

"I never meant to make you uncomfortable."

She laughed. She missed the smile he offered her.

"What did you mean to do, Tom?"

"I wanted you to be obsessed with me. I had been watching you for some time, because I'd plan to blackmail you. I'd noticed your will and influence; I wanted to own it. To influence it. I wanted you in the same way I have my band of misfits," the small, amused smile he gave her caused her to blush.

"So can my ideas corrupt you?"

He seemed wholly amused, and Hermione was completely sure that she had no influence over him, but the idea was nice.

And it was stupid, really, because she knew better. She knew that this was impulsive and wrong and that she would regret it, be it in the morning or in a thousand years or a few nights ago, but she found it hard to really care when everything she'd ever wanted –everything she'd never even realized she'd wanted before he'd left her that damned book- was right in front of her.

They stopped walking and turned to face the Great Lake. He looked out over it as she watched him.

"I wanted you to keep like a pet, to use your brain and perhaps," he shrugged. "But, I found that book, and I held on to it for two years before giving it to you, because I couldn't believe that my fate was connected to yours, and when I finally accepted it, I found myself, well, soft. I understood that it wasn't so bad, that if that this was meant to be," he stared at her then, his face angrier than she expected it.

"I can be upset. I can hurt you and force you and make you hate me, but what would be the point? You are incredible, for a Muggleborn. For a witch. I don't believe that I can negatively impact that, but why would I want to?

"So, I accepted, and then I found myself fearful of you, because there is no reason for you to believe our fates are tied. There is no reason for you to be interested in a wizard like me. And yet," he inhaled deeply. "I had to give you the book. It had to be you."

Hermione realized she was frowning and tried to right her face as she said, "I didn't realize you had so many feelings."

Tom began to laugh, which suited him, and she told him so.

"Believe me when I tell you I hadn't realized either. But it is not so bad when it is you."

"You've killed people."

"You've tortured and scarred and let them to live with what you've done."

"I have," she admitted. "I have believed myself in the right when doing so."

Tom shrugged. "I don't necessarily care. But, I do appreciate your morality. It's refreshing."

She laughed. "We are bad for each other."

He seemed confused.

"You are- It's sad really, because you could have been so much, and you allowed yourself to become involved with the wrong people. You owe too many now."

"I told you I don't work for or support Grindelwald."

"Don't you, though?"

He sighed. "We have correspondence. It's academic."

"Of course it is," she said flatly. "I can't be yours, though, Tom. I was never meant to be. Sure, this book…it recognized me as equal to you. You recognized me as equal and I am constantly in awe of you, but this isn't appropriate. I am against the superiority of Purebloods, and all or your friends –you!- are bigots. I am a Muggleborn witch with no interest in giving up that part of myself so that I'll fit societies norms. My heritage is an incredible part of who I am. I plan to fight tooth and nail for equal rights and opportunities.

"I care and you just don't. At least not when it doesn't directly affect you."

He seemed thoughtful for a moment before saying, "I can make what is important to you important to me."

She sighed. "You don't get it. In the dead of night, it's easy to be everything, but we are so different. We are so far apart that it's incredible we've gotten on so well to begin with. I-"

She tugged her hands through her hair, "In less words: we have to stop this. I cannot be the person you want me to be. I thought that I could see and become her because I thought she was powerful and influential and, honestly, I quite liked seeing her next to you. I saw myself," she shook her head to clear it. "I will not be that person. There is too much at stake for me to indulge in something so temporary."

"Temporary?" He questioned, and she wasn't sure if he was amused or annoyed.

"Everything in life is."

He chuckled. "I never pegged you as a quitter."

"That's offensive. I'm removing myself from what has the potential to be a dangerous and self-destructive relationship. I am initiating us going our separate ways, which was always that plan, Tom."

"Have I ever made you fearful of me? Have I done anything to you that would make you believe-"

"You're manipulating me! You are not this kind person you pretend to be when we're alone. I like this person, but I am not stupid, Tom! The moment I give in, you're going to become the person I thought you were. And I won't let myself go through that."

"You've made up your mind about this," he told her.

"This was always the plan. It was your idea to stay out of each other's way. We're better now. We have the world."

"Yes," he told her as they began to walk back toward the castle.

When the silence became too much, she quietly asked, "Can I still come to one of your little gatherings?"

He smirked as though he knew something she didn't, drawing his arm over her shoulder and kissing her temple. "Of course, love."

"Don't call me that," she told him.

He only laughed.

.

.

.

"We usually use the Room of Requirement," Draco told her, oddly relaxed and interestingly friendly. He'd been tasked with keeping track of her for the evening, and didn't appear to have any reservations about it.

Hermione, on the other hand, felt incredible odd and out of place, and they hadn't even joined the other's yet.

His cloaked arm brushed hers as they stalked through the Forbidden Forest. "I think he's trying to amuse you."

"So you all aren't doing anything serious tonight?"

"You never know what you're going to do with Riddle. The other night we researched night blooming flowers for three hours. We've searched through a a bunch of lost stuff in the Room, too."

"Are you kidding?"

"No. I don't 'kid,' Granger."

She pulled a leaf off of a tree as they passed it just for something to do. She supposed that he may still be looking for the cup, and 'the other night' was around the time they'd been attempting to brew a potion that would mimic the effects of unicorn's blood. It been unsuccessful, which they'd expected, but not incredibly so. For whatever reason, she thought it curious he'd included them in the research.

"Have you killed anyone?"

"Merlin, Granger." He stopped walking, and she only got a few steps further until she stopped and turned to him. "What do you think we do? For what reason would we kill anyone?"

"Myrtle died last year-"

"Which was an unfortunate event, but we had nothing to do with that. Remember? It was that freak-show half-giant pet of Dumbledore who turned out to be responsible."

"Ok."

"You don't believe me."

"I know for a fact it wasn't Hagrid, Malfoy. You don't have to lie to me."

He shook his head and started walking again. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Granger. Honestly."

She decided that Draco had no idea who he was working for. "You described the death of a Muggleborn as unfortunate."

He frowned. "Contrary to popular belief, or that of my father, I do not believe that you all should die. I think you need to respect our culture and status-"

"Why?"

"We are superior in this world. Don't start, Granger. Listen. Culturally speaking, you have no idea about what it means to be a wizard –a witch- outside of school. Purebloods are born into this world, this society, and have a basic understanding of wizarding values and expectations long before your lot can even understand how you're different from Muggles. We understand our history and that of other wizarding communities in the same way that you have a superior understanding of Muggle life.

"There is nothing wrong with that. I don't even have a problem with you being a part of this world. My issue with you, in particular with you, is that you don't really care about our values or culture. You arrogantly claim that centuries of carefully crafted and curated life is backwards and regressive.

"And you fail to realize that you cannot apply a Muggle vision to our world. You cannot expect us to be in sync with your old life. You can create whatever subculture you'd like. Many of us encouraged integration in the old days- before they start killing us in the streets and we were forced into hiding.

"There are so many of you and so few of us that your subculture has slowly been becoming the 'norm,'-"

"It's evolution! It's progress. You can't continue to live in, I don't know, 1817, when it's 2016-"

"You can't decide that," he told her calmly. "This isn't your history, your culture."

"You aren't dying, though! Not anymore. You aren't being murdered in a world you expected to thrive in. Can't you see the similarity there?"

Draco touched her shoulder, shocking her so much that she flinched. When their eyes met he said, "Like I said, it's unfortunate. We have to figure out a way to coexist that is mutualistic."

"Supporting Grindelwald isn't the way."

"I never said it was, Granger. Don't confuse me with my father."

She huffed, focusing on tying her hair away from her face –like he'd suggested when he'd come to get her from her dorm- instead of responding. When she saw Tom leaning against a tree ahead of them she turned to Draco and asked, "So why do you act the way that you do? Why don't you put any action behind your words?"

"You lot decided I, we were shitty people when we started here. We don't grow up the way you all do. Our world is very closed. We don't have an opportunity, before age 11, to form our own opinions in the way that Muggleborns and some Half-bloods are able to.

"When we start here, this is our first exposure to other people on a large scale. It's our first opportunity to develop away from our parents or those tasked with watching and guiding us. Everything out of our mouths, we heard other's say. By the time any of us realize we may have been wrong, we've already been overlooked."

He shrugged, "It's a poor excuse, but it's the truth. At least for us Slytherin."

She thought long and hard for a minute –which was ridiculous in itself- before saying, "I'm sorry."

He seemed as shocked as she felt, but he extended his hand, and she shook it on sheer principle.

"We aren't friends," she told him. "We just share a common, well not really interest, but interest."

Draco actually laughed at this, and Hermione tried to smile, but something about his genuine demeanor was off-putting. As they started walking again, he said, "Riddle says the same shit to us."

She wasn't sure how she felt about it.

.

.

.

"I found a dead centaur on the way here," Theodore announced.

Hermione coughed, watching as the small group of boys got riled up.

"We could dissect it," he suggested.

"Oh my god," she murmured to herself. Tom, who was sitting a few feet from her, smirked at her obvious distress and confusion.

"I have always wondered if their heart would look like ours or like a horses," one of the Lestrange brothers announced.

"Have you ever seen a horse heart, Rod?" Draco asked, sliding down to the ground and leaning an elbow on the log she was sitting on. He kept his outstretched legs away from the fire they were sitting around.

"Have you?" She questioned.

"Of course. The human and horse hearts are structurally quite similar. Four heart chambers and heart valves-"

"Are you suggesting that we couldn't tell a human heart from a horses?" Rod questioned.

"Of course you could tell the difference. A human heart weighs 8-10 ounces, whereas a horse's heart is a little over 8 pounds. Could you imagine a horse operating with a human's heart? It's too small."

"So you think centaurs have horse hearts?" Tom questioned, sounding genuinely curious.

Hermione broke out in a cold sweat. She'd expected dark spells and cruses and madness. Not this.

"I think they have the capacity of a horse heart, and theirs may be slightly larger than a human's. Surely someone has researched it, though. I doubt the rest of the centaurs would just let us dissect their fucking brother or sister."

"Why do you know all of this?" Hermione questioned.

Draco shrugged, but the other brother –Rabastan- said, "His family owns a lot of horses. His mother likes them."

"Don't talk about my mother."

Theo barked out a laugh.

"Imagine if it was a female," Rod suggested.

Hermione decided she'd had enough. "Ok, well. Not that this isn't riveting and educational, actually my ideal type of fun, I should go."

Draco made to get up, but Tom stopped him.

"I'll walk her back. You all can find the fluxweed and meet me at our dorm to start the potion."

They disappeared more quickly than she'd expected. "You all are brewing Polyjuice."

"Yes."

They started the walk back to the castle. "Why?"

"You don't get to ask that. I've allowed you your night with us."

"But you all didn't do anything."

"Sorry to disappoint, Hermione, but this was a very normal night for us."

"You all went over Transfiguration concepts!"

"Step yelling," he hissed, whipping his wand out and glancing around them. "We're thirty minutes outside of the castle."

"You really expect me to believe you all do this every fortnight?"

"I really don't care what you believe, Hermione. You're always so prepared to expect the worse. Would you have preferred we let Grindelwald supporters into the castle? Or left to participate in a raid?

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but none of us are Grindelwald supporters. I told you, he's unreliable at best."

She frowned, allowing silence to fall between them for a few minutes. "So-"

"We work on spells, craft potions, research different ingredients. We practice dueling. Work out war and defense strategies. Consider the best paths for our futures, considering we'll be graduating in just a few months."

"You're all nerds," she laughed, bumping his shoulder. "How cute."

He seemed largely unimpressed with her, but he drew his arm over her shoulders again. "What do you think of vampires?"

"You'll lose your magical ability."

"Sure. But, hypothetically," he started, and Hermione lifted her hand to lace her fingers through his. She felt his lips against her hair, "Do you really want this to end?"

"Tom."

"I know. I'm going to continue with my original question. I just…wanted to know how you really felt about us."

"I think we're fire and gasoline."

He hummed thoughtfully, his fingers wrapping more firmly around hers.

"I think you're blinded by the security we've had by starting this in secret. I'm," she searched momentarily for the right word, "impressed with you all after tonight. Truly. But there is too much to be done and not enough time for us to publicly right wrongs and get everything done."

"We could meet in the middle."

She looked up at him as they walked through the forest. When he met her eye, his appeared to be blacker than the night. There was danger in them that she hadn't considered in a long time. Power and darkness she'd grown so accustomed too that she didn't even notice anymore. There was so much he wouldn't hesitate to do, and as he smirked down at her, she realized that he was probably more menacing and unpredictable then anything they'd encounter in the Forbidden Forest.

"If we meet in the middle," she told him lowly, "I'm yours."

His smirk grew into a sly smile that turned her insides into butterflies as he lowered his mouth to the corner of hers. "When," he corrected her, and then proceeded to tell her his theory on being converted to vampire after the creation of horcruxes.

A/N - Sorry I'm late I worked all day one day and then I had to complain to the ppl at my eye dr bc they didn't give me transition lenses and then i had to figure out where i'm getting a new tattoo (! ! ! so excited about this one) anyway i wanted to edit this update out but its also kind of weirdly important like...emotionally i guess...ANYWAY we're close to the end now (there are 1-2 more updates after this, i can't remember exactly) and actually i have a few more one shots (both drunk and crack-y) i could post i just have to edit them so we'll see.

also sorry if there are a lot of grammar/spelling issues with this one i got sick of rereading it and i don't have a beta so~