Author's Note: Another chapter is done! Finals are coming up, so past this point, the chapters might be updated at a slower rate. We'll see. Though, finals mean summer, so I guess it's something to look forward to.


Rita's bizarre story was published three days later, and was brought to her attention curtsey of Tracey. The girl had been the first one to see it at breakfast, and within seconds, had shrieked so loudly that the whole school knew. Hermione stared down in horror as she watched the picture her trying to kiss Tom.

Tom, as usual, seemed to enjoy the whole thing.

"Why, Hermione," he had said on day at breakfast. "If you wanted to kiss me so much, you could've just asked."

She didn't know why she still bothered with him.

The story had blown over in a couple of days, but Tracey didn't hesitate to point it out every moment that she could. The girl brought it up every time the two of them had an argument—which was quite often—as if Hermione would be embarrassed once she saw it. She wasn't. Rita Skeeter could write whatever she wanted, and if there was anyone who should be embarrassed, it should be Rita.

She went down to Gringiotts, as she did often. She was seeing Abraxas every day now, much to the dismay of Black. She didn't know what his problem was; he seemed to be angry for the sake of being angry. Cygnus got over it—telling her he was only angry because she had made Black angry. He, however, avoided visiting Gringiotts, saying that the place made Violetta uncomfortable. They both wrote notes and gave it to her to deliver though.

Black claimed he was angry because she insulted Walburga—she got that; they were cousins, after all, though Black rarely showed it—but it did not account to why he was so furious with Abraxas. Maybe he believed Abraxas betrayed him, but it was really a weird way to go about showing it. Especially when this was Black that they were talking about.

She got to Abraxas's cell one sunny afternoon and nearly had a heart attack. She sprinted towards the guard, who stared at her in distaste as she panted, trying to catch her breath. "Where is he?" She rasped. "Where did you take him?"

The guard looked down at her. "Who?"

"The boy, in cell two," she said. "He's gone." As if to emphasize her point, she drew a little cube with her hands and waved it back and forth. "Gone."

Realization dawned the guard's face. "Yes, he was cleared today. He left earlier, accompanied by Professor Dumbledore." He squinted at the clock. "I'd have to say it was about ten minutes ago. If you had come a little earlier, you would've saw them on your way in."

"What? How?"

The guard blinked. "Professor Dumbledore said that a young man came with decisive evidence that Mister Malfoy was not the criminal. I apologize, Miss, but I do not know any more details. You'll have to ask Professor Dumbledore if you want any more information."

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. She thanked the guard quickly, and sprinted to Hogwarts in record time. Abraxas had been cleared? Not that she wasn't happy, but who could've possibly cleared him? From what Abraxas said to her, they hadn't even done any tests on his memory. Why was he cleared then?

Before she even got in to the castle, she spotted five figures on the field. Two of them were standing quite close together. They just couldn't wait to start a brawl, could they?

Violetta was sitting away from the group, her face full of concern. It was obvious that she was not a fan of violence. Cygnus looked torn; he looked like he wanted to go comfort her, but also wanted to restrain Black at the same time. Black was in Abraxas's face, and though Abraxas clearly looked like he didn't want to fight, Black certainly looked like he did. Tom, as usual, was doing nothing helpful. He was observing the situation, an amused smirk on his face.

"Hermione," he drawled when he saw her. "How nice of you to join us."

She ignored him and threw herself at Black as he prepared to punch Abraxas. They toppled to the ground, Hermione landing on top of him. "What are you doing?" She screeched at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Squirtle?" Black blinked slowly, and then grinned up at her. "Hey, what are you doing up there? If you wanted to get down with me, all you needed to do was ask."

She ignored him. "Why were you going to punch Abraxas?" She asked angrily. "I know you feel betrayed about all of this, but this is taking it a little too far, isn't it? Look at him," she pointed to Abraxas, who was staring at her in amazement. "He just got cleared, and this is what you do to him?"

Black looked at her in confusion. "Did you hit your head or something?" He looked around. "Hey, there's snow! When did it start snowing? It's early this year, isn't it? Though I suppose snowing in November isn't too bad." He grinned at her. "Want to have a snowball fight with me, Squirtle?"

Hermione's jaw dropped and she was speechless. Thankfully, Cygnus came to the rescue, eyeing his brother. "What's the date?" He asked.

"What am I, your calendar?" Black asked. "It's November 28th, of course."

November 28th. The day Daisy was killed and Erica fell in to coma. The day Abraxas was accused of murder.

Abraxas seemed to recognize as well. "That was the day…" he trailed off, looking at Hermione, his eyes wide. "What's going on here?"

"I think I should be the one who's asking that question," Black called from his spot on the floor. "I'm so confused right now. Why are we all on the field, and why is Squirtle on top of me?"

"This is bad," Hermione looked over at Tom, who just shrugged. It looked like she wasn't going to be getting any help from him, though that had been expected. "Black's been possessed by someone since the day of the incident." She frowned. "We need to talk to Dumbledore."

"Your inner Gryffindor is showing, Squirtle," Black said. "And as much as I like this position, I don't think Tom likes it too much." He smirked up at her. Hermione realized she was still sitting on top of him, and got up, apologizing profusely.

"Inner Gryffindor?" Hermione blinked. "I do not have an inner Gryffindor."

"Maybe your Gryffindor friends do this," Black continued as if he hadn't heard her. "But we do not go running to Dumbledore. Especially not Tom here," Black gestured towards him. Tom was wearing a scowl at the mention of the Transfiguration professor.

"Well, I certainly am not going to tell Dippet about this. I might as well go and talk to a wall."

"Harsh," Black whistled.

Hermione ignored him, whirling around to face Abraxas. "Either you come with me to Dumbledore, or you risk getting thrown back in jail. Your pick."

Abraxas cast an apologetic look at Tom, and then his eyes hardened at Black. Black suddenly looked like a beat up puppy, casting his eyes downwards. Hermione knew that if the facts that presented to them were true, then it wasn't Black's fault at all. However, it had to have hurt Abraxas listening to his friend reject him like that. "I'll come with you. I don't ever want to go back there." He shuddered.

"Look—Abraxas…" Black said, shuffling around uncomfortably. "I don't know exactly what happened, but if I hurt you in any way, I'm sorry." He gave a shaky laugh. "Shit, I'm so screwed up."

Hermione frowned at his language, but Abraxas just looked at his friend. "No, it's okay," he said. "I just need some time to sort things out. I think we all do."

"Yeah," Black said, and then announced loudly. "I need to get drunk."

"Black!" Hermione hissed, looking around worriedly. To her relief, she saw no one else in sight, besides Violetta and Cygnus, who were sitting a couple feet away from them. They were whispering softly to each other, but looking at the group at the same time.

Black looked appalled. "What?"

"You can't just go announcing that. You could be expelled. It's in the rules book. Rule seven hundred thirty nine." She frowned when he started laughing. "What?"

"You could be expelled," Black repeated in his imitation of her voice, which was high and squeaky. "It's in the rules book. Of course you'd know that, Squirtle."

"Don't make fun of me," She scowled at him, but was secretly happy that Black was back to his normal self. To be honest, seeing him angry had been…strange. She had seen him sad before—when he was recalling his past—but never angry, and especially not at Abraxas. She wondered why she didn't figure it out beforehand.

She also wondered what was the purpose of putting Abraxas in jail only to have him come out a couple weeks later.

Hermione turned towards Abraxas, who nodded. "Alright, we'll be going now," she said, waving at them. Black offered her a cheery grin, but Tom was still staring at her quietly, like she had grown two heads. Her smile faded, and she looked at him anxiously. "What is it?"

He cocked his head to one side and studied her for awhile, and then smirked. Before she had a chance to comprehend what was happening, his lips crashed on to hers. Before she could say anything, he already pulled away and was heading towards Hogsmeade. "I'm going to get some Firewhiskey," he announced.

Black grinned as Hermione's hand drifted lightly over her mouth and she glared at Tom's retreating back. Black shot off to catch up with Tom. Abraxas, who looked like he was determinedly trying to ignore the kiss, called out, "Look after Black,"

"Look after Black?" Tom asked, barely turning around. "If you recall, Abraxas, I was under the Imperius last time."

"Somehow, I highly doubt it'll happen again," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Just fight it off," Abraxas said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. And maybe it was; it was Tom they were dealing with after all. She doubt it settled well with him when he was cursed last time.

Black turned around and stuck his tongue out. "I don't need a babysitter!"

And then they were gone.

"Come on," Abraxas tugged on her arm gently. She allowed him to pull her away. "We better get going." Hermione offered a nod and a small smile to Violeta and Cygnus, who were smearing snow on each other. They seemed too engrossed in each other to notice, and Hermione let them be.

She had spent so much time in Gringiotts, she didn't have the chance to play in the snow with Nick yet. She was going to have to ask him to come out with her later. It was there tradition to lie down next to each other and make snow angels. Of course, that tradition had went down the drain for five years, but it was never too late to start again.

"Wow," Abraxas breathed when they were back in the castle. He was looking at everything, soaking it in with his eyes. "Do you see that lamp? Since when was it so light? And look, the ceiling is enchanted. It's really pretty. Oh, there's armor over there. Look, it moved!" A pause. "Nope, just kidding. It's just a rat."

Hermione giggled. "Abraxas. You've been in this school for almost five years now."

"Uh huh."

"And you've only been gone for two weeks."

"Yeah."

"And nothing has changed since you were last here."

Abraxas's smile fell. "Yeah, I know," he sighed. "It's just that the prison cell was plain, and it's nice to see some decoration, okay?"

She knew she had offended him. Damn her stupid, big mouth, always saying things she didn't mean. "I'm sorry," she apologized, sheepishly, but a quick nod and a hand squeeze from Abraxas told her that she had been forgiven.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, looking up when the two of them entered his Transfiguration office. He had been looking over some papers, but he put them down and beamed at them as they came in. "Mister Malfoy. I was expecting the two of you, though earlier."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione said, sitting down. Abraxas did the same. For him to be willing to follow her to Dumbledore's classroom when it was obvious Abraxas didn't like him too much must have meant that he really felt grateful. "We got held up on the fields."

Dumbledore nodded. "I suppose you were wondering why Mister Malfoy is here instead of the prison cell." He paused, and then held something out to them. "Lemon drop?"

"Yes Professor, I was wondering." She shook her head to decline the lemon drop. Abraxas did the same. Dumbledore shrugged and plopped one of the hard candies in to his mouth. "Though I'm not complaining or anything."

Next to her, Abraxas muttered teasingly under his breath, "You better not be."

Dumbledore chuckled, watching their exchange with twinkling eyes. "Mister Malfoy has been cleared from all suspicions," he said, though his face grew troubled. "There was someone who helped fix his tampered memories."

Abraxas frowned. "And why don't I remember this?"

"You were asleep," Dumbledore explained. "Had you been awake, we would've done it anyway, but the guard informed us that you had been sleeping for forty two hours straight, so we didn't want to wait until you woke up. We didn't know when that would be."

"And who is this someone?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. If Dumbledore wasn't able to solve it after two weeks, how could someone random come and solve it in such a short amount of time?

Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately, I did not catch his name before he left. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt, though we have suspicions that it was someone polyjuiced as him as we found the real Kingsley's body in the bathroom later."

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked. Her father had mentioned Shacklebolt before, saying that he was a respected Auror. For such words to come out of her father's mouth had to mean that they were true. Her father almost never complimented anyone.

There was only one time that her father had complimented her, and the memory that came with it was painful and it made bile rise up Hermione's throat. She quickly shoved it out of her mind.

"Yes. Kingsley is fine. A little shaken up, but no serious damage." He then frowned. "That, however, is more than I can say for two of you. I fear you may be in more danger than you suspect. The imposter managed to find out for us that Mister Malfoy's memories were tampered so that he would believe that he was at the window, waving to you." This indeed sounded like the story Abraxas told her the day he was taken away. "It later turns out that you were following your brother, Mister Malfoy, before you were attacked."

Abraxas blinked. "Gabriel? Why was I following him?"

"You thought he was acting strange," Dumbledore explained. "You found him pacing in an empty hallway. However, I cannot say what happens after that, because the next memory you have is you back in your room."

"That's creepy," Abraxas said, and Hermione shot him an exasperated look. Of course it was creepy. What else would it be? "Have you talked to Gabriel yet?"

"Yes, he is currently in custody," Dumbledore nodded. "You may see him as soon as we're done questioning him." Relief was evident on Abraxas's face.

"There is, however, one big gaping hole," Dumbledore continued. Oh, I can think of several. "Assuming that the imposter was also the one who tampered with Abraxas's memories in the first place—seeing how he fixed it easily when well trained wizards were struggling—it serves no strategic purpose to place Mister Malfoy in jail, only to have him removed a couple of weeks later without getting anything out of it."

"Why would they want to hurt me, anyway?" Abraxas frowned. "If it was because of house rivalries, then this is going too far."

"Don't you go blaming this on Ron," Hermione said. "You have no proof."

"I wasn't blaming it on Weasley," Abraxas said, looking appalled. "I was merely saying that—"

"Don't lie. I could see it in your eyes. You were referring to Ron." Abraxas scowled, but didn't deny it. Hermione knew that out of all the Gryffindors, it was Ron that Abraxas really held strong hate feelings for. Nick, however, was a close second, though she didn't know what he did to get Abraxas to hate him. Maybe it was just because of the fact that he was friends with Ron. She glanced sheepishly at Dumbledore. "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It is alright, Miss Granger. I assume that after being away from Mister Malfoy for so long, you would want to exchange some words with him," his eyes twinkled. "Though I can't say you've been away from him for very long. You seemed to have spent as much time down in the cell as he did."

Hermione blushed, but Abraxas blurted out, "Please, Professor, don't punish her. She didn't mean to miss class. It was because of me."

Hermione only blinked at him. "I didn't miss class. I only went when I had a free."

Abraxas looked confused. "You visited me during the week, Hermione. You don't have that much time to go to Diagon Alley and then back, even if you did have the free."

"You underestimate me," Hermione said. "I finished the assignments for homework the day before, and handed them in. Most of the teachers let me leave, though not of them were that understanding." Abraxas rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like 'smart know-it-all' under his breath. She ignored him and looked towards Dumbledore. "Thank you, sir, for letting me visit him."

"It's no problem, Miss Granger. Young friendship…I still can remember mine." Hermione wondered if he was thinking about her father. She could never picture either of them with friends, though it looked like the two of them obviously knew each other.

"And sir? One last question," She hated to interrupt him from his memories, but she had one last thing she needed to ask about. "Black—Orion, that is—appears to have some work done on him as well. The last thing he remembers is November 28th, which is also the day that this whole fiasco started."

"Yes," Dumbledore mused. "I thought as much. Never have I seen Mister Black so angry with the world. May I inquire how you finally got him back to himself again?"

Hermione frowned and thought back. "He was picking a fight with Abraxas, so I pushed him back without thinking. I ended up pushing him to the ground."

"I think it was the force of the fall," Dumbledore said. "I must admit that after trying spells on Mister Black, I did not expect the curse to be severed by a tiny little push. However, that being said, I still do not know which curse it is. I also promise to look in to that, but you must understand that memory tampering and the death of Miss Chang comes before emotion manipulation."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"That is all for today. I will contact you if I find out any more information. If you are targeted once more, come straight to me."

"Thanks, sir," Abraxas said, as the two of them exited the room. The prison must have done a lot to Abraxas. She knew he was less prejudice than a lot of other people, but not that much. Tom, for example, would never have been caught saying anything nice near Dumbledore.

"That didn't go that badly," Hermione said as the two of them headed back to the common room. "Somehow, it sounds a lot less serious when Dumbledore says it."

"But he didn't help us either," Abraxas pointed out. "All he said was that he was going to investigate it. Anyone can investigate. Even we can investigate."

"Great. I'll be seeing you in the library tomorrow before breakfast. Don't give me that look. You're the one that suggested it."

"Do we have to go that early?" Abraxas grumbled. "I was planning on enjoying a real bed."

"As the saying goes, early bird gets the worm."

Abraxas looked baffled. "There are way too many worms in the world. I'm sure there are plenty of them left over for the late birds as well."

Hermione waved him off. "Muggle saying. Don't mind me. You'll be in charge of dragging Black to the library tomorrow, won't you?" Abraxas gave a reluctant nod. "You don't need to do anything about Tom; he gets to the library before I do."

Speaking of Tom…

"Drunk men alert," Abraxas muttered, rolling his eyes as they stepped in to the Slytherin common room. Two figures were draped over the couches. Everyone else was in Hogsmeade, so there was no one else there. One of the figures was chatting away, tipping his head backwards as he put a bottle to his mouth. The other one was watching the fire place crackle quietly. "How far do you think we can get before they notice us?"

"Not very far," Hermione admitted. "If it was just Black, maybe. But since Tom is there as well…I'd say maybe five feet?"

"Yeah," Abraxas agreed reluctantly. "How quietly do you think we can get out of the room, then?" He pointed at the bottles piling up next to Black. "He should be passing out soon. That's his eleventh bottle, I think."

Hermione made a face. "That stuff is strong. I could barely drink a bottle without feeling woozy."

Abraxas laughed. "Black just has an abnormally strong alcohol tolerance, and you have an abnormally low alcohol tolerance. You can't compare the two of you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved him. She hadn't expected him to be so unstable on his feet that he fell over with a loud thump. She groaned as Black's unfocused eyes drifted over, followed by Tom's grey ones.

Abraxas glared at her. "Smooth."

"If anyone is smooth, it's you," Hermione clipped. "I'm not the one who fell over with a little tap."

"Abraxas!" Black bustled over, and before anyone could do anything, he threw himself in Abraxas's arms. He snuggled up, even as Abraxas watched him in shock. "You're back!"

"Yes, I'm back," Abraxas said, trying to pry the boy away from him. "Black, you're drunk. Go sleep it off. Don't do anything you'll regret in the morning."

"Why would I regret this?" Black slurred, and then reached over to ruffle Abraxas's hair. "You're so cute when you're flustered."

Abraxas's jaw dropped. Hermione guessed that this wasn't normal drunk behavior for Black. "I—"

"Squirtle!" Black spotted her and shuffled towards her, and she step sided neatly and he ran in to the wall. It didn't seem to bother him, though, because a second later, she found him embracing her. "You came back to me!"

Hermione eyed him warily, and then turned back towards Tom. "Is he delirious?"

Tom shrugged. "He just lost his self restraint. I had to pry him off the bartender. Tom wasn't happy." He smiled rather eerily. "But then again, he's never liked me."

Hermione knew better than to ask.

"Alright, that's enough," Abraxas pried Black off from her and set him on the couch. "I think someone needs to get some sleep."

"I won't get any sleep if you're here," Black said cheerfully, winking. "If you know what I mean."

Abraxas stared at him for a moment, and then shook his head. "Then I guess I'll just have to leave."

"No!" Black clung on to his arm. "Don't leave me! Please stay. I'll be good. I'll even keep my hands to myself…" he trailed off. "Though, once removed, they will not come back, so you better think long and hard about this."

Hermione smiled; she could definitely see that Black was still in that drunken body. Abraxas sighed, but reluctantly slid in to the seat next to his friend. She was about to join them when she saw Tom beckoning her over.

"Yees?" She said. He smirked at her, and before she could do anything, grabbed her arm and pulled her swiftly in to his lap. "Tom!" She shrieked, though he wound his hands around her waist and would not let go. "Let me go!"

"No," he buried his nose in her hair. "I like your hair. It smells good."

"Lying will not make me want to stay in your lap any more than I do now."

Tom turned his grey eyes towards her. "And do you want to stay in my lap?"

"Do you want me to stay in your lap?" Hermione countered back.

"Of course I do," Tom said easily, as if he were talking about the weather. "It makes it easier to do so many things to you."

"Like cursing me?"

Tom frowned. "I was thinking along the line of talking, though I guess cursing also works." A smirk worked its way up his face. "Want to try it out now?"

"No, I'll pass."

Tom brushed a strand of hair out of her face and twirled it on his finger. "What did the Old Codger say?"

"His name is Dumbledore, Tom." Tom scowled, but didn't say anything. "And he didn't say anything we didn't know yet. Just that we're in danger, and he'll look in to it some more."

"Ever so helpful."

Hermione nudged him gently in the arm. "How many bottles did you drink, anyway?"

"Just one. I have a prefect reputation to uphold," he gave her a devilish grin.

"Didn't stop you before," Hermione pointed out. Tom said nothing, but continued twirling a strand of hair on his finger. They were so close now. Hermione could feel his breath on her skin. He smelled faintly of firewhiskey. She leaned towards him, and he did the same, and they were so close she could almost touch—

A loud yell made her jump back and pull out her wand instinctively. She turned towards the sound.

Abraxas was squirming as Black sat on top of him, giggling gleefully. He must've not gotten over the effects of the emotion manipulating curse. "What the hell?" Abraxas said, trying to push his friend off of him. Black didn't budge. "I thought you said you would keep your hands off of me!"

"I did," Black pointed out. "My lips aren't my hands."

"That doesn't give you the right to kiss me!" Hermione's jaw dropped open, and she started giggling. Tom smirked at her amusement and went back to playing with her hair. Abraxas glared at Hermione. "What are you laughing at?"

"He has a point," Hermione said, eyes tearing up. Black was going to regret that move later. Or maybe he'd just flirt it off. Knowing all the girls in the Slytherin house, if word ever got out, they would say it 'enhanced his beauty.' They really were shallow. "His hands didn't go anywhere near you."

"That's true," Black said, puckering his lips and wounding his arms around Abraxas's neck.

"Black. Get your hands off me."

"My hands aren't on you. They're my arms. See?" He patted them. "Arms."

"I don't care."

"You should care," Black leaned in. "Want to kiss me again?" His eyes lit up. "We should have a kissing party. I'm sure Squirtle wouldn't mind joining in." He gave her a not-so-secretive-wink.

"We certainly will not be having one," Abraxas said. "Now get off me Black, or I will remove you by force." He paused. "Why don't we have a sleeping party? Yes, I quite like that idea."

His suggestion met deaf ears. "Are you going to punish me for being naughty?" Black asked, his eyes hopeful.

"Yes," Abraxas said shortly. "I will tie you to a bed and leave you there until you sleep this…immature mood of yours off. Then in the morning, I will remind you of this in front of everyone to embarrass you."

"But Abraxas," Black whined, leaning even closer. Abraxas started to flail desperately, trying with no avail to push Black off of him. He might as well have been trying to push a boulder.

That was how Violetta and Cygnus found them. The two of them were coming down the stairs, laughing at something Violetta said, when they both froze and took in the sight in front of them. Hermione was still perched on Tom's lap, his hand in her hair. Abraxas was struggling to push a cheerfully drunk Black off of him, while the boy planted kisses on his cheek, making cooing sounds.

"Do I want to know?" Violetta asked. Cygnus, however, was staring at his brother with a frown on his face.

"What's wrong with him?" Cygnus demanded, looking at Black. "Why is he giddy? What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything," Abraxas gritted his teeth. "If anything, I am the victim here. This," he gestured towards Black, who was squirming around trying to get comfortable. "is an example of why you don't drink almost a dozen bottles of firewhiskeys during school hours."

Cygnus seemed to accept that as an explanation. Black, noticing his brother, bustled over. "Cy!" He yelled in delight. "You came back to—"

Cygnus whipped out his wand before his brother could get anywhere close to him. Black flew back to the couch, landing with a thud, and then fell asleep instantly. "That, Abraxas, is how you deal with my brother when he's drunk."

Abraxas scowled. "He was on top of me. I couldn't reach my wand—"

"Excuses, excuses," Cygnus sighed, pulling open the portrait door. Violetta show Hermione a small grin before following him. She wondered why the two of them weren't in Hogsmeade like everyone else. She wondered why everyone here wasn't in Hogsmeade. Black was usually so enthusiastic about the trip, but he had been under a curse until just thirty minutes ago. Maybe he forgot. "I won't object if you want to go out with him. However, I must warn you that he does tend to have mood swings and—"

"Shut up and get out," Abraxas growled, and Hermione giggled. Cygnus shot Abraxas a half-smirk that resembled his brother's and clambered out of the common room. Black's loud snores soon filled the room. Abraxas eyed him in distaste, but Hermione saw a little bit of softness creep up his eyes.

It was nice to have them both back again.

"You shouldn't do that,"

Hermione blinked as Nick frowned down at her. "Do what? Sit at the Gryffindor table? Stuff my face with food? You certainly didn't seem to have a problem with that yesterday. Ron does it all the time as well." She gestured at the redhead, who grinned at her sheepishly.

"No, not that," Nick sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "As much as I enjoy you sitting here, I know it isn't because of my awesome presence that you're here." He gestured towards the Slytherin table, where Tracey was sitting close to Tom, clinging to his arm. "You should just tell her off."

Hermione scowled down at her food. "Can we please not talk about that right now?"

"Nick's right," Ron piped in. "Even though I don't know what you see in that bastard, it's pretty obvious that the two of you are a couple now. So if Parkinson can't see that, you need to tell her to get lost."

A couple? It that what she and Tom were now? The idea was so foreign to her, yet she suspected that Tom had already gone through his share of girlfriends already. The difference between their experience level made her feel insecure.

"Go on," Seamus encouraged gently. "We'll be watching. If things go too badly, I can always blow up my food as a distraction."

"I think you just want me gone from this table," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Aw, you figured us out," Ron laughed. His face grew somber as he threw a glare at the Slytherin table. "Who does he think he is? I would say he's trying to make you jealous, though that's going a little too far. It's more like he's deliberately cheating on you in front of you."

Hermione laughed shakily. "He's Tom Riddle. He can get away with stuff like that."

"That's only because you let him," Ron pointed out.

"Hermione," Nick placed his hand gently on her arm. He was looking at her with his gentle eyes. Someone else she knew also had the same eyes, except they were always full of coldness. That someone else was also the reason she was at Hogwarts right now. "Riddle's not him. You don't need to try to earn his love. He needs to earn yours." He frowned. "Though you shouldn't need to earn his love either."

"Who is this mysterious him?" Seamus questioned.

Both Hermione and Nick ignored him. "So I should just go over there?" Hermione asked, stealing another glance at the Slytherin table. Tom was now speaking to Tracey, and the girl was giggling, almost pushing herself on to his lap. The very same lap, she might add, that she was sitting on only hours ago.

Black seemed to have sobered up, and he was sitting next to Abraxas, joking around. Abraxas seemed to have gotten over Black's earlier behavior, though Hermione didn't miss the way he flinched when Black leaned close to him. There was nothing like having your best friend kiss you, Hermione thought, rather amused. If Nick ever kissed her on the lips, she wouldn't hesitate sending him to the infirmary. She had found out the hard way before that that was exactly what Nick would do as well.

"Yes," Ron said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "While you're at it, throw the stew at Parkinson's face, will you? It makes me mad just looking at it."

Hermione frowned at him, though she completely agreed with him, but before she could say anything, someone poked her on the shoulder and said, "Hey Hermione."

Judging by the look on Nick's face, she could tell exactly who it was.

"Hi Eileen," Hermione nodded towards her fellow dorm mate. Over the last couple of weeks, she and Eileen had grown increasingly apart. Nick still suspected her, though Hermione didn't see how Eileen could go around committing crimes if all she did was lock herself in the library. Hermione had to admit grudgingly with all her visit to Abraxas, Eileen was spending more time than her studying. That would not do. Now that Abraxas was back, she was going to hit the library whenever she had free time.

"Why are you sitting over here?" Eileen cocked her head to one side curiously. "Are you having a dispute with your friends?"

"None of your-"

Hermione elbowed Nick in the ribs, looking at him pointedly before turning back to Eileen. "No. I like sitting over here, though. It's a much different experience than the Slytherin table."

"True," Eileen studied the Slytherin table, where Tom's hand had gone to Tracey's arm. Hermione gritted her teeth. Eileen noticed and shot her an amused grin. "Do you want to get out of here? I'm heading down to the library."

"Sure," Hermione agreed, ignoring the glares Nick was shooting her. "Why don't you go along first? I have some things to take care of first."

Without waiting for Eileen to respond, she was out of her seat and heading over to the Slytherin side of the Great Hall, only faintly registering Ron's cheers in her head.

Black saw her first, and he offered her a huge grin. "Hey Squirtle," he said. Hermione smiled back at him. "Is what Abraxas said true? Did I really kiss him?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't see it. I looked over when Abraxas was pushing you off. You didn't do anything worse put kiss his cheek after that."

"That's already bad enough," Abraxas muttered under his breath.

"See?" Black poked Abraxas in the arm. He scowled. "You have no proof. For all we know, you could be the one who is imaging things. Why are you so set to believe that I'm the one who's wrong?"

"I don't know," Abraxas rolled his eyes. "Maybe because you were the one who was drunk off of eleven bottles of Firewhiskey and I was perfectly sober? A bit of an overkill, don't you think?"

"You know me," Black shrugged. "I always drink when I'm stressed. For me to drink that much…it must mean that I'm very stressed."

"Yeah, I figured that part out."

Black shot him a cheeky grin before turning back to Hermione. "What brought you back here? I don't suppose your little Gryffindor friends decided to give you back with a cheerful smile on their face, did they?"

"No one decides to give me back. I'm a person, not an object," Hermione informed him. "And don't call them little. They're not little." Black looked like he wanted to interrupt, so she held up her hand. "And I'm not here because they told me to. I'm here because I want to fix something."

"Something," Black raised an eyebrow. "Define this mysterious something."

"I don't know," Hermione said, her voice eerily sweet. Abraxas followed her gaze to Tracey, and he seemed to get it. He nodded at her encouragingly. "Maybe something like someone's face."

She walked over to where Tracey had firmly plopped herself on Tom's lap, and he was fully letting her. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to smooth her features, and tapped on Tracey's arm. "Excuse me,"

Tracey turned around and scowled. Tom just looked amused about this whole thing. Maybe she needed to rearrange his face as well. "What do you want?" She asked rudely. She put her hands on her hips and put on her best intimidating face. Too bad she just succeeded in making herself look like a duck.

"I want to talk to you,"

"Tough luck," Tracey sneered at her. "I'm busy." She turned back to Tom and trailed a finger down his arm. "Now," she cooed. "Where were we?"

Her hand was promptly ripped off by a glowering Hermione. "Ow!" Tracey glared. "What was that for?" She turned back to Tom, tears swimming in her eyes. "Tom, my hand hurts. Can you make it better?" Tracey's eyes slid seductively towards his lips.

Hermione felt a new surge of anger course through her body. Tom sent her an amused look. He was definitely enjoying the situation a little too much for her taste. She didn't know why she even put up to him in the first place, or why she would go anywhere near Tracey to get Tom back. Hermione blamed it on Nick for coming up with the idea in the first place.

"Look at me when I'm talking, Tracey," she growled at the girl. "Or you'll see just what I can do to you while you sleep."

"Aren't you pathetic," Tracey's lips curled up. "You have to curse me when I'm sleeping? Can't trust yourself to beat me when I'm awake?"

HYPOCRITE! Hermione wanted to scream at the girl. She had been waking up in nonstop green goo for the past few months. Tracey had no right to lecture her on cowardliness. Not to mention, she could easily take out Tracey if she wanted. Instead, Hermione gritted her teeth and said, "Stay away from Tom."

"Oh?" Tracey laughed. "Nice one, Granger. You almost got me there."

"I wasn't joking."

"Did you hear that?" She nudged Tom in the side, batting her eyelashes. "You have a new bodyguard over there. She's asking me to stay away from you." Another laugh, as if she thought what Hermione had said was the funniest thing in the world.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I wasn't asking. I'm telling you."

"Who are you to ask me?" Tracey hissed. "You think he's your boyfriend, don't you? You must be a terrible girl if he has to constantly cheat on you with me."

Yes, she was going to have a talk with Tom later about that. "I think the same works vice versa, Parkinson," Hermione replied coolly.

"How dare you!" Tracey screeched. Hermione was sure that the whole Hall was staring now. However, no one did anything to stop them. They just sat and gaped as the two girls bickered with each other. "Do you honestly think Tom would choose a girl like you over me?" She cackled much like a witch, remind Hermione of Walburga. The resemblance between the two friends now were quite uncanny. "You're delusional!"

"Bitch," Hermione said, and then slapped the girl straight across the face. Tracey screeched as she fell out of Tom's lap, but he did nothing to help her up. So much for the 'loving boyfriend' Tracey thought she had. Hermione glanced down at the girl, noting a red handprint starting to appear on her face. Satisfied with her work, she spun around and exited the Great Hall.

Once she was outside, however, she realized what she had done. Am I an idiot? All the teachers were watching! Oh no, I'm going to get an E now. She would have to work extra hard from now on to make it up. No more slacking off for her.

She thought back to Tracey and immediately felt bad. Sure the girl was far from nice, but did she really deserve that? It wasn't her fault for falling for Tom; he was a master at manipulating, after all. And wasn't that what she did as well? It wasn't her place to lecture Tracey; she was a hypocrite, and a big one at that.

Someone grabbed her arm and she whirled around, pressing her wand to the intruder's chest. It was Tom, and he cocked his head to one side. "Hermione," he greeted. He made no move to draw his wand, and she made no move to drop hers.

"What are you doing here?" she asked harshly. "You should be in the Great Hall eating."

"As should you," Tom replied smoothly. "As you can see, you are quite far from the Great Hall right now and you are currently walking in the wrong direction. Might I suggest taking a one eighty degree turn might get you there faster."

"Go back to eat," Hermione scowled at him. "I'm sure Tracey's waiting for you."

"I won't unless you come with me," a smirk crossed his face and he leaned in slightly. The tip of her wand began pressing in to his chest, though it didn't seem to bother him. "As for Tracey, you won't need to worry about her anymore. If you wanted me to stay away from her, you could've just asked. Though," his grin grew wider. "You're cute when you're jealous."

"How many times do I have to tell you that flattery will get you nowhere with me," she said flatly. "And I wasn't aware you were so dense to think you could go cheat on…" she gulped. She and Tom had never established what their relationship was. What were they, anyway?

"Your girlfriend," Tom supplied helpfully, his lips curling up. "You can say it. It's not a curse or anything," he looked amused. "Though I have to say, you cover that area quite well."

Hermione scowled at him. "Do you honestly believe you can go cheat on your girlfriend with another girl and not expect her to get angry? I don't know what warped planet you and Tracey have been living on, but that's not how things go around here." Not that I should be saying anything. Tom probably has more experience at this than I do.

Tom frowned at her. "She was just sitting close to me. It's not like we were making out."

Suddenly, she felt the urge to slap him. Or to stomp her feet down on his. However, she did neither and instead spun around and stalked off. She heard Tom's voice call after her, but she ignored it. He was going to follow her anyway. Seconds later, his footsteps confirmed it.

Hermione re-entered the Great Hall, and immediately, everyone's eyes wandered over to her. Tracey, she saw, was sporting a red cheek, though it looked as if her pride was stung more than her skin. She glared at Hermione.

Hermione headed over to the Gryffindor side of the table once again, trying to ignore how Tracey was fawning over Tom. He caught Hermione's eye and gave her a little wink. She ignored it.

"Wow," Ron whistled as she sat down. "When I said to go and chase her out, I didn't mean go and slap her."

"That was sick, though," Seamus nodded. "Wasn't that sick?"

Ron nodded. "Totally."

"Why did you let him come back, though?" Seamus asked, his eyes drifting over to where Tom was sitting, Tracey once again nestling at his side. She just never learns, does she? "All your hard work for nothing."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind repeating that little episode," Hermione said sweetly, trying her hardest to look unaffected by the unnecessary amount of touching displayed at the Slytherin table.

Nick was looking at her, and then whispered in to her ear, "Riddle's watching us right now." Indeed he was, with his trademark smirk on his face. Black and Abraxas had turned around as well. Black was winking shamelessly, while Abraxas glared at Tracey and cast Hermione an apologetic glance. "Let's try something."

Before she could argue, Nick pulled her in to his lap.

"Nick!" She said, but couldn't help the smile that arose on her face. The two of them had done this so many times before that the position was extremely familiar. The two of them used to sit in her room, and he used to read to her. Not because she couldn't read, but because she liked listening to the sound of his voice. Especially after her mother died, Nick's voice helped her forget about all her troubles.

Of course, her father had been less than pleased when he found them together. He said something about tainting the noble bloodline with incest. If there is anyone tainting the bloodline, it's you! Hermione remembered thinking.

"Better?" Nick teased, poking her in the ribs. She smacked his hand away. "Remember when we used to having tickling fights?"

"And he would walk in on us fighting on the floor."

"And he would look at us like we were disgusting dogs," Nick said, grinning.

"But it's okay, because he let as roll around anyway."

"Because he loved us."

Hermione snorted. "Yeah right."

Nick laughed good naturedly. Ron cleared his throat, watching the two of them in amazement. "Exactly what are the two of you talking about?"

"Nothing," the two of them chortled, and then turned to each other, grinning.

Her nurse, Luna Lovegood, had once said that the two of them could be twins. They knew each other so well they could almost read each other's minds. Hermione prided herself with the ability of being able to tell how Nick was feeling with just one glance, and she knew Nick could do the same to her.

"Well, keep it up. It's working," Seamus said, nodding towards the Slytherin table. There, lo and behold, was the Slytherin prince himself. The look he was shooting could've frozen hell over.

Someone needed to give Tom Riddle a taste of his own medicine.

"Cy gave me money to spend," Violetta held up a bag and shook it. The sound of coins clattering against each other could be heard. She frowned at it. "I tried to give it back to him, but he wouldn't take it. He said something about wanting to make me look as pretty as possible." She blushed.

"That means he cares about you. No need to get embarrassed about that." Hermione was going shopping with possibly the strangest group in history. She went with Nick, Eileen, and Violetta. She had originally just wanted to go with Violetta, as Black had said that Cygnus must not see the dress before the dance. Eileen had insisted in tagging along, and Nick decided to be her personal protector and come along as well.

The Christmas Dance was just a week away, and then it was break. Finally, a couple weeks worth of time to do her studying peacefully! Nick told her he decided to return to the Weasley household. She declined both his and Ron's invitation, and told him she would just find a spare room in Diagon Alley. He didn't seem reassured, but it would also be suspicious if he went to turn down Mrs. Weasley's invitation just to go live in a hotel with Hermione.

Violetta had been asked by Cygnus just the day before, and to say the girl was ecstatic was an understatement. Hermione had been happy for her, and immediately volunteered to go shopping with her. There was no doubt that Cygnus, Black, Abraxas and Tom were doing their shopping together, though there wasn't any chance Hermione was going to copy their example and ask any of her other roommates to come along.

Abraxas had been asked by Eleanor, and he was oblivious when he hugged her and said that she was a 'great friend.' He was utterly clueless when she burst in to tears and ran off, and Black told him he was a painfully dense idiot. Hermione had to agree.

Black didn't want to go with anyone, other than Violetta, so he had been planning to sit out for this dance. However, Hermione asked him to accompany her. Partly because he looked lonely when Cygnus and Violetta discussed their plans, and partly to piss Tom off. Tracey was still attached to his arm, and though he shrugged her off sometimes, she remained latched there. Hermione decided that if he could do that, so could she.

Based on his reaction, he didn't like it one bit. But Hermione didn't care.

"Hey Hermione—"

"No."

Eileen frowned at her. "No what?"

"You were going to pick out a dress for me," Hermione said. "My answer is no. The dress you bought me last time was ugly and stuffy. I'll pick out my own dress from now on, thank you."

Eileen looked stung, and Hermione knew she was being a jerk, but she didn't care. Her suspicions in Eileen were on the rise, especially when she found the girl just last week with her hand going through Hermione's luggage. Eileen had explained that she had dropped her pin and was looking for it, and Hermione had pretended she believed it. She didn't.

"You know," Nick said, falling in to step beside her. "Since you're going with Black, maybe you don't even need to buy a dress. I'm sure he'll be quite delighted if you show up in absolutely nothing."

Hermione snorted. "Nah, Black's…otherwise occupied." Nick nodded and shot a quick glance at Violetta. Hermione gaped at him. "You know?" she asked, astonished. "Did he tell you?"

"Because Black has nothing better to do than come to me with his girl problems," Nick snorted. "House unity isn't that great, Hermione, other than us, of course." He gave her a grin. "You'll find out how observant I am."

"Oh really," Hermione replied flatly, crossing her arms. "Tell me what you know about me that you've learned by observing and not because I told you."

"I don't think you really like Riddle," Nick said, and Hermione's jaw dropped open. "You think you do, but I doubt it. It's more like…an attraction. And maybe a little past the point of friends, but definitely not in love."

"B-but I kissed him!" Hermione sputtered. "And he kissed me! Multiple times!"

"Spare me the details," Nick laughed. "You can kiss multiple people and not be in love with them. Not," Nick amended quickly after seeing her face. "saying that you're that type of girl. I think you're just confused. You haven't dealt with this type of thing before. You've never been in love before. You can't really learn this from a book." She scowled. "Not saying that you can't be in love with Riddle, but I think it deserves more time. Though for the first person, you certainly know how to choose them."

Hermione ignored his last statement. "So you've been in love?" She asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Nope, not yet," Nick replied. "I've observed people in love though. I get the gist of things." He cast her a sideways glance. "Better than you get from your book, anyway."

"Tom's already referring to me as his girlfriend," Hermione said. "What exactly am I supposed to call him then, now that you think I'm not in love with him?"

"Riddle considers you his girlfriend?" Nick raised an eyebrow. "And he still lets Parkinson drape herself over him? He must be extremely moronic or idiotic or both. Well, it seems like the word girlfriend doesn't mean too much in his book. Just call him whatever you want."

"I guess," Hermione replied miserably. After all her father had been through, she had handled it all without complaining much. But this, this business with Tom, she couldn't handle? "I just want to have a nice and easy life. Why do I keep throwing myself in the most difficult path?"

"Hermione," Nick placed a hand on her shoulder. "Your life will never be nice and easy."

"Gee thanks. Words of motivation are not your strong suit," Hermione rolled her eyes just as Violetta stepped out with a strapless pink dress. "I like the style," Hermione offered helpfully. "Change the color though."

"I didn't want to wear green," Violetta said, twirling around. "I see it too much daily. Do you think Cy will be offended?" She bit her lip.

Hermione patted her arm reassuringly. "Never let what a boy thinks bother you," she said, ignoring Nick's obvious fake coughs and him saying, 'hypocrite' under his breath. "Anyway, Cygnus would love whatever you wear."

Violetta's eyes brightened considerably. "You think so?" Hermione nodded, and the girl smiled widely. "I'll go try on this one next then," she snatched a baby blue colored dress and disappeared in to the changing room.

"I have to say," Nick observed from next to her. "It is times like these I really appreciate being a guy. We just wear a suit and a tie. The tie is the only hard part, and we're not as picky." He grinned as he looked her up and down. "Though I don't think you're picky either."

Hermione scowled at him. He had been making fun of her hair before she could remember. "And there are times where you wish you were a girl?" She asked flatly. Nick only shot her a mysterious grin. Hermione shook her head, but couldn't prevent a grin. Strange guy.

"Tada," Eileen came out of the changing room. She was wearing a long sleeved green dress that clashed with her hair and eyes horribly. "How do I look?"

"Terrible," Hermione clipped. Eileen didn't seem too offended and just looked down at her dress. "The colors don't match."

"I think," Nick drawled loudly. "It looks perfect."

"Oh, does it?" Eileen said absentmindedly. "I suppose I should go change now." She disappeared back in to the changing room, snagging another green dress on the way in.

"Hey," Nick said, trying to sound offended. "I told her it was perfect. Why did she need to change?"

"She listened to me, obviously."

"Why would she listen to you?"

"I don't know, maybe because you've been hostile towards her for a couple months now," Hermione shrugged. "Also you were laying it a bit thick. I'd be surprised if she couldn't see through your 'compliment.'" Hermione cast him a sideways look. "You didn't think she was pretty, did you?"

"No, I thought she was ugly as hell. She didn't need to know that though."

Hermione frowned at him. Nick was generally a nice guy, and he rarely showed negative feelings towards anyone. Eileen was clearly one of the exceptions. "Nick…" she began, but then her eyes flicked over to Violetta.

The girl had evidently gone through quite a pile of dresses, based on the amount hanging on her arm. She placed them all back to their racks. Her current dress was strapless—Violetta seemed to love those dresses, based on what Hermione saw was returned—and it was blue. Not quite navy, but dark enough. It complimented her eyes well, and Hermione grinned and gave her thumbs up.

"Really? Is this good?" Violetta squealed. Hermione nodded. "Finally, I'm done! No more dresses," she sprinted back in to the changing room to take it off.

"Aren't you going to try on something?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "I know it must be hard to leave my presence, but you need something to wear to the ball besides your robes."

"I swear, your ego is growing every day," Hermione muttered. "And I was just going to wing it."

"Why don't you wear that one?" Nick suggested, pointing to a pink dress with ruffles. "The price isn't too expensive either."

"It's too pick," Hermione complained.

"Are you a witch or not?" Nick asked, rolling his eyes. "You can change the color quite easily once we purchase it." Nick looked over where Eileen was going over to buy her horrid green dress. "Talk about Slytherirn extremist."

"Lay her off, Nick." Hermione went to pick up the pink dress, feeling it in her hand. It was soft enough, and would be quite pleasant to wear. "She likes green. You have a weird fetish with pink."

"Don't compare me to her," Nick waved her off. "Come on. Violetta's going to come out in a couple of minutes. If you don't want us to leave you in there, you better hurry up."

"You won't leave without me," Hermione replied crossly, but she went in to the changing room anyway.

Five minutes later, the four of them were walking along the sidewalks of muggle London. Hermione had shoved all their bags to Nick, making him carry it. However, he had dropped Eileen's bag so many times that the girl finally decided to carry it herself.

"I suppose this is where we part ways," Eileen said. "I have some things I need to take care of. I'll see you back in Hogwarts." Without waiting for them to answer, she vanished in to the crowd.

"Weird girl," Nick muttered, steering them in the direction of a back alley. They couldn't apparate in the middle of the road; Dumbledore had specifically told them not to when he granted them permission to go shopping.

Hermione's mind immediately flashed to all the bad moments that happened in the back alley. Violetta seemed to remember as well, as she was trembling slightly. Hermione pulled her along, making sure to glance behind her once in a while to make sure no one was following them.

Her efforts turned out to be in vain.

She heard Nick swear softly under his breath as a gang of boys rounded up on them. They didn't look any older than they were, but they were wielding clubs, swinging it around as if it wasn't a deadly weapon.

"Look who's back," A bald headed boy said, a piercing on his lower lip. Nick thrust the two of them behind him, and Hermione put Violetta behind her. Nick had never told her about associating with them, so Hermione had no idea what to expect. "And you brought some friends," his eyes wandered towards Hermione and Violetta. "Excellent."

"Let us go, Kriger," Nick said, his voice cold. "I am no longer part of your clan, so therefore I do not have anything prevent me from hurting you."

"And us, to you," Kriger replied softly. He twirled his club around, and Violetta shrunk back. "But we won't hurt you, Porter, if you join us. You know how valuable your fighting skills were to us. We'll keep your pretty friends safe too."

"Go to hell, Kriger," Nick gritted his teeth.

"I think I'll pass. I heard it was quite unpleasant down there," Kriger replied smoothly, running his eyes over Hermione, unashamed. "Quite a catch you have there. Who is that? Girl number 50? Or have you already passed that mark?"

Nick ignored him and tugged on Hermione's arm. "Let's go," he said. Hermione kept her hand clamped on Violetta's as the three of them put distance between the group of teenage boys.

But it was never as easy as that.

"Whoa, there, Porter. Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from you," he lowered his voice. "Keep walking. Don't look back."

Hermione looked back anyway, and screamed, "DUCK!" Nick dropped to the ground. If he had delayed a second later, the club would've flown and hit right in the center of his head. Hermione couldn't help but admire their perfect aim.

But of course, now wasn't the time for that.

"That was cheap," she called, never known for being able to keep her mouth shut. "You are all cowards. Who attacks a man when his back is turned? Do you have no dignity?"

"You caught a feisty one, Porter," Kriger grinned, though it was cold and emotionless. He turned towards her. "Dignity does not matter on a battlefield, little girl. You keep your dignity, you'll be the first one dead."

That was true. Her father had told her so many times before. There's no time for niceties in a battle. You be nice to someone, they may come back and stab you in the back.

A boy, who looked no older than seven, came forward. Hermione frowned. The club was almost bigger than the boy himself. He tugged on Kriger's arm and whispered something in his ear. Kriger seemed to consider something, and then nodded. The smile he smiled wasn't a pleasant one.

"Did you tell them?" Kriger asked. "Did you tell them how we were your family, and you turned your back to us? Did you tell them what you used to do to girls?" Hermione wanted to groan. The last thing she wanted to hear was that Nick had turned in to Black.

"You were never my family," Nick said, brushing himself off as he stood up. "You never deserved that right."

"I'm sure some of us disagree," Kriger's lips curled up as he beckoned someone from the crowd. A tiny little boy came up, a teddy bear clutched in his hand. She heard Nick draw a sharp intake of breath.

"Nicky?" The little boy said softly. "Is it really you, Nicky?"

"Nick?" Hermione questioned, throwing him a curious glance. She didn't say anything else, but he knew her question.

"They helped me," Nick said. "After I ran away, he found me. I came here with my wand snapped and I was half-dead. They ended up helping me, and I stayed here for a couple of months before I had to leave again."

Hermione frowned. "Why all the hostility then?"

"You don't know the things they made me do," Nick shuddered. "They're not nice people, Hermione. Don't trust them. Think of a way to get us out of here."

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"Look at this," Kriger said. "Mason misses you. He wants you to come back to us. Don't you, Mason?" The little boy nodded, clutching his teddy bear harder. "You wouldn't let Mason down, would you Porter?"

"You must be truly desperate," Hermione said, picking up the club that had fallen on the floor. All eyes were on her. "If you need Nick that badly."

"Hermione," Nick frowned at her. "I asked you to think of a way to escape. That was not an invitation to start a major brawl here."

"I wasn't going to," she stepped in front of him, looking back. "Violetta, when I say go, I want you to sprint as fast as you can. Keep sprinting until I tell you otherwise, alright?" The girl nodded, biting her lip anxiously. Poor girl. This probably is the most dramatic thing that has ever happened to her.

"Nicky!" Mason called again, his face arranged in an adorable pout. She felt Nick wince behind her. "Nicky, come back to me! Don't let her hurt me!" He started crying, his sobs echoing in the alley.

Nick gripped her arm. "Hermione," he whispered in her ear. "Don't miss."

"Wasn't planning to," she replied, and then chucked the club at Kriger. It hit his right leg and he howled in pain. She used the distraction and screamed at Violetta to run, and the three of them took off in a sprint down the alley.

As Hermione thought, Violetta was clearly not made to run. She was breathing heavily in a couple of seconds, and she knew it would only be time that the group recovered and caught up to them. She spotted an empty, dark house and yelled at them to get in.

The three of them tumbled in to the house and Hermione slammed the door behind her. Making sure no muggles were in sight, she quickly grabbed their hands dragged them along with her in to Apparition.

She failed to notice the pair of eyes watching her from behind the shadows.

"I think she's unconscious,"

"Good observation," Hermione snorted as the two of them trudged back towards Hogwarts. Hermione was currently levitating Violetta, who had probably passed out due to the adrenaline rush. "Now that we're back in safe territory, I think you have a couple of things to explain."

Nick sighed. "They were not nice people. Sure, they took me in, but they were involved in dirty businesses. It was…not a nice place."

"What about Mason?" Hermione inquired, thinking about the little boy who obviously held Nick in high regards. "He seemed to genuinely want you back."

"No," Nick shook his head. "He's been through training with Kriger. He lures people in by making them feel bad for him. That's how the group operates. They set him as a trap."

"That's horrible."

Nick shrugged. "I told you they weren't pleasant."

"So what do they do once they lure people in?" Hermione asked, wanting yet not wanting to know the answer at the same time.

"They kidnap them," Nick said simply. "I only stayed there for so long because I tried to free the victims. It was hard. I had no wand, after all. Plus, it started to get suspicious to Kriger."

"What did you do?"

"I kidnapped some myself," Nick sighed. "It must've been strange to them. I would kidnap them, and then secretly release them. I think they never knew whether or not to trust me. Kriger, however, was fine with me after that, so I did what I have to do. I left as soon as I had enough energy and strength to, though." He sighed. "There's only so much of that a person can take."

"Yeah." Hermione patted him on the arm. "I don't get why they nursed you back to health though."

"That part is obvious. I am obviously a handsome specimen, and I tend to attract all kinds of people to me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I wasn't aware it was time for your ego to reappear again."

Nick opened his mouth to respond, before he could, Hermione spotted the Black brothers walking together. Their heads were bent together, their faces grim. They came over when she waved, and then stared at Violetta.

"What did you do to her?" Cygnus said, his face turning in to a nasty snarl. He whirled on Nick. "I swear, if you hurt her, I will kill you. Do you understand? I will murder you."

"She's fine," Hermione said tiredly, handing her over to Cygnus, who wrapped her protectively against him. "We had a run in with Nick's past. She fainted. She's perfectly fine, Cygnus."

"Thank God," Cygnus pressed his forehead against hers and started whispering to her. Hermione noticed how Black shot them a sad glance. There wasn't anything she could really do to reassure him either. Whatever nice words she could sprout about having a chance with Violetta would be a lie.

"Squirtle," Black said, glancing back at the castle. "There's something you should probably know." He paused slightly. "I know it's sudden and you probably want to have time to calm down, but it's rather urgent."

"What is it?" She glanced at him worriedly. "Is someone hurt?"

Black shook his head. "Worse. You know Erica, right? The girl who was friends with Daisy."

"Yes." She said, trading glances with Nick before looking back at Black. She dreaded to hear his answer. "What about her?"

"She's been murdered in the Hospital Wing."


Author's Note: Just one blow after another. Let me just say, if I were to live in this world, I would probably die in three seconds. I mean, the most stressful thing in my life is homework, and I can't even take that. :D