Sparking the Shivered Soul

by aihe

He’s going to help her destroy the Horcruxes and Voldemort, and she’ll help him reconstruct his shattered soul as Tom Riddle. Along the way, she’ll also teach him what it means to have one and he’ll teach her that everything can’t just be black and white.

4. Chapter 3: Surprises and Shadows

NOTE: Ugh I wasn't thinking when I edited this chapter and accidentally re-uploaded it. So it's not actually a new chapter. Just scroll to the bottom for the comment I added as to it's status.

A/N: So I had an exam and a camping trip and a lot of other stuff but I've been continuously writing. It might've been finished earlier but I had to re-plot the whole thing due to pacing issues. You asked for an explanation to the Hermione/Draco friendship and this chapter starts with that. I apologize for so much of that friendship (which will remain a friendship -_-) but it's going to start fading into the background as of mid–this chapter. Someone asked what 'aihe' meant – I was just searching for a random penname that wasn't something I normally used (I'm pretty private about my writing and wouldn't want to get google-ed by people I actually know) and it's Maori for dolphin. Sorry about the late update and thanks for everyone that's reviewing – you guys are keeping me going.

Oh and as to all of Tom's undecipherable looks – it's partly a writer's cop-out but mostly because I don't even think he knows what he's feeling about her. She definitely interests him and he probably even likes her on some level but that's unacceptable. So he's confuzzled and his expressions convey that. But in this chapter he's kind of just fooling around and getting some range. Also he's going to start doing things that are basically the equivalent of a boy pulling at a girl's pigtails but he's not really going to understand why for a while.

Warning: This is a long chapter despite not much happening in it. It might take some time to get through as it's almost twice as long as the others.

One Month Ago

Ron and Harry burst into the kitchen just as Hermione put her tea on the table – or more accurately, Ron burst into the kitchen and Harry followed reluctantly behind.

She frowned at her best friends as the door slammed behind them. It was very late and they had to leave for King's Cross early in the morning.

Hermione was not very surprised at the confrontation however. She had known that something was bothering Ron recently much as he tried to deny it. The only thing that she wondered at, besides the nature of what made him so irritable, was how long it would take him to erupt.

"Have you finished packing Ron?" she asked carefully. She tried to catch Harry's eye to get a hint as to what she might expect but he studiously avoided her gaze.

"You know what I'm here about!"

Hermione barely held back a loud sigh; Ron's belligerent launch into the conversation did not herald a very promising end. "No, I really don't." She said it as soothingly as she could though experience told her it was hopeless.

"Malfoy." Ron spat out the name like an accusation.

"Lucius, Draco or Narcissa? I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific."

"Draco," Harry supplied helpfully. He did not, however, elaborate when she looked at him.

"What about Draco?" Hermione was curious now. Draco had spent almost the entire summer hiding in the den or his room at 12 Grimmauld and had very little opportunity to annoy Ron, especially to this degree.

"You're spending a lot of time with him," Ron said angrily. His eyes bulged out as they always did when he was being more irrational than usual.

She frowned as she started to get an inkling of what might be setting a fire under Ron. "He's the Head Boy and we have administrative details we need to go over. It's actually rather lucky we have all this time before school starts so we don't have to do all of it in September."

"That's convenient."

"Excuse me?"

"I said: that's convenient." Ron's eyes bore into hers like some sort of challenge.

"Hermione, we're just a little worried," Harry interrupted when Ron made no attempt to clarify his point. "Draco Malfoy's done all sorts of things to us over the years and you're treating him like you've been friends for ages."

"Yeah, and he's called you a mud…well you know, like a million times," Ron added.

Hermione scowled. "I haven't forgotten if that's what you mean."

"Then how can you even be friends with him? He's been a complete wanker for the last six years!"

She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. "You don't believe that people can change?" she asked as calmly as she could manage.

"People maybe, but not bloody Malfoy." Ron spoke with absolute confidence.

Hermione turned to Harry and saw a flicker of doubt in his green eyes.

"There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin." Harry quoted what they had all heard many times before.

"Peter Pettigrew," was her only reply.

"So he's just the exception that proves the rule!" Ron declared proudly, as if making an irrefutable point.

"That whole thing is a logical fallacy. Just because dark wizards come from Slytherin doesn't mean that every Slytherin is going to be dark."

"But Hermione, he's Malfoy," Harry said with a troubled expression.

"Yes, you've said that already," she said, increasingly irritated by the conversation. "And when you have proof that a person's name or house will make them innately evil, I'll consider the argument."

"You can't just start trusting a bloke like that!" Ron said indignantly. "The second you do, he'll…he'll…" Ron was clearly going through a list of the things that Draco could do to her and searching for the worst representative when Hermione interrupted him.

"I'm not going to depend on him for my life or anything; I'm just trying to be his friend."

"Well you can't." Ron crossed his arms stubbornly.

"What do you mean I can't?" Hermione snapped. "You can't tell me who I can or cannot be friends with!" But her anger only made Ron madder. His whole face went red as he stared at her, nostrils flaring.

"Why are you defending him like that? Are you sleeping with him or something?"

Her jaw dropped at the accusation. "WHAT?"

Beside Ron, Harry winced.

Hermione was absolutely thunderstruck. She had thought that their relationship ended amicably at the beginning of the summer. They mutually decided that they were unsuited for each other and the last thing she expected were wild, jealous accusations. "You've been living in the same house all summer with us! How could you even say that we're somehow conducting an illicit relationship here?" She kept her own voice down with effort so as not to possibly wake Ginny, Arthur, Molly or Draco.

"That's not what we're saying," Harry said as he tried to save the conversation.

"That's what I'm saying." Ron crossed his arms stubbornly.

"That's absurd! Have you absolutely lost your mind?" she yelled.

Ron's expression became less certain. He likely only accused her in the heat of the moment and now knew he had blundered. Having lost the higher ground, he seemed to be deciding between pushing further and just shutting up.

And Hermione knew on some level that he did not mean it but she could not simply pretend that he did not say it and that she was not hurt. "Get out!" She finally just pointed at the door, not knowing what else to say. "Go and pack, and grow up, and then come and talk to me."

Harry tugged at Ron's sleeve and Ron turned and pushed past him and out to the hall. She could hear his loud stamping as he went up the stairs.

"Harry, what exactly just happened?" The whole discussion felt slightly surreal and she could only frown at her other friend in helplessness.

"Sorry 'Mione. Ron's not taking this whole break-up thing brilliantly." He made a face. "He has good and bad days. The idea of you guys together has been around long before your relationship existed and I think it's hard for him to let go, despite knowing it was the best thing to do."

Hermione's anger faded somewhat. "I guess I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"He'll probably be calmer by then," Harry said with a supportive smile.

"You know," Hermione said after a pause, "Draco really isn't that bad.

"I'm not necessarily saying that he is Hermione, though I'm not a fan of the guy after all that's happened. I just don't want you to get hurt. You can give him a fresh start if you'd like but don't trust him immediately. You don't know what he's going to do with a second chance."

She smiled. "When did you get so smart?"

Harry grinned, his hand reaching up to rub his scar absently. "Oh I dunno, around the time I got so handsome I believe."

They both laughed. Hermione stepped forward to slap him on the side of his head but he dodged her blow with ease.

"I'll be careful and you don't judge him solely on his past or his house. Really Harry, give him a chance."

"And when we get murdered in our sleep?"

"You can blame me." They both smiled at the joke though it was not really funny; morbid humor had become more appealing recently.

"Still got some stuff to pack. See you in the morning 'Mione." He turned and followed Ron out.

Hermione swept a hand down her face and shook her head. Sometimes she just did not know what to do with her friends.

As she sat down to her cooled tea, she was still thinking of the discussion she just had with her friends. She caught the handle with her hand and upset the whole thing. Hermione reached out but was only able to save the porcelain from smashing onto the floor.

She automatically grabbed a nearby tea towel to wipe up the mess and when she knelt down, something caught her eye under the table. It was her Wall-fly and it was glowing. Someone was listening in on their conversation and Hermione did not have to make a very big leap to guess who that would be.

Hermione was not in the best of moods when she burst into the den upstairs and found Draco sitting there. The rant she had planned in her head during the walk up from the kitchen was stopped short by the expression on his face – it was not cheeky or triumphant but solemn and contemplative.

A mix of pity, sympathy and level-headedness made check her foul mood and revise her opening.

"Don't think too hard there Draco, you might strain something."

He answered her with a small smile as he deactivated the other half of the wall-fly that sat openly on the table. "So what would be so bad about sleeping with me?" He demanded with mild indignation.

Hermione dropped herself down in an armchair and buried her hands in her hair. "Not you too," she groaned. "You know eavesdropping is wrong."

"Oh please, you've done it for two Order meetings already."

She opened her mouth to defend herself but there was not much she could say to that. "There's nothing wrong with you Draco, at least I don't think there is." She gave him a look. "Though there have been rumors floating around about - never mind."

Draco grinned. "Tell me the rumors and I'll tell you if they're true."

"No thank you." Hermione thought that happiness suited Draco far better than surliness and depression. "The point isn't that Ron accused me of having something going on with you. He seems to think that I'm going to move on to the first male I see just because they're there."

"Hey!"

Hermione smiled at his indignant expression. "He thinks that somehow our relationship meant so little to me that I could get over it and hook up with someone new like that." Hermione snapped her fingers. "And don't say anything bad about Ron," she said as he opened his mouth.

"What? Me?" Draco schooled his expression into something that looked vaguely innocent. "I was just going to say, and not to sound like some sort of expert on relationships, that you and Weasley never quite made sense to me."

"Or anyone else."

"Or anyone else," Draco agreed.

Hermione shrugged. "It'll be okay once we have a reasonable conversation. You can't be best friends for as long as we have without a little getting better at adapting to fights. We'll be good long before we get to school tomorrow."

"Awww." Draco's sarcasm lacked bite and she only half-heartedly glared at him in return.

"Will you be okay going back to Hogwarts tomorrow?" she asked quietly.

"We'll see won't we?" Draco said. He smiled slightly at her concerned expression. "Like there's anything that can really faze me at this point." A distant look appeared on his face and she could tell he was thinking about what was to come.

Hermione occupied the subsequent lull in their conversation by examining the Wall-fly on the table.

"Thanks for getting me books," he said finally. "I'm sure I could've gotten some secondhand ones from Dumbledore or something."

"You? Secondhand?" Hermione looked up and snorted.

"I suppose it wouldn't be keeping with the great Malfoy tradition," he admitted ruefully. There was an odd expression on his face as he looked at her.

"What?" she asked. A long silence followed her question but he did not stop looking at her. At last, he answered her quietly.

"I'm sorry I called you a mudblood."

Hermione startled a little – she had not thought that an apology would matter to her until she heard it. She moved over to sit down next to him on the couch. "I'm sorry I slapped you in third year."

"I deserved it," he said wryly. "I'm sorry I said that you should be attacked by the giant snake."

"I'm sorry I called you a ferret." Each apology came easier than the last.

"I'm sorry I made your teeth big," Draco said, giving her a sideways glance. "Well, bigger." He laughed and cringed jokingly when she hit him in the arm.

"I'm pretty sure I'm angrier at Professor Snape for that incident." They both fell silent at this; their recently deceased professor still weighed on their minds.

Hermione leaned back and looked at him. Draco returned her stare thoughtfully with cool grey eyes. He had cleaned up his hair and clothes since he received his Head Boy badge and had also been eating more, to Molly's relief.

And as she looked at him, she thought that he did not bear much resemblance to the arrogant show-off she had known for six years. Hermione blinked. When had Draco Malfoy grown up?

"Did I grow a beak or something Granger?" he asked after a minute.

She looked at him somberly, hoping to convey her sincerity. "I'm sorry your mother died Draco, I really am."

"I know," he said, nodding slowly. "Thanks." He did not say exactly what his gratitude was for and Hermione chose not to ask.

"You know," he continued hesitantly. "Since we're going to be working together all year, it might be good if we developed some kind of understanding…as to…an acquaintance of some kind."

She could not help but smile at his awkwardness. "Are you asking me to be your friend?"

He looked affronted. "Of course not."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Well, kind of," he admitted. "Unless you can think of some reason not to…"

"It's worth a shot…in my opinion at least."

Draco made a valiant though unsuccessful effort to hide his relief and Hermione could not help but throw an arm around him and give him a slight squeeze.

"There's still some stuff to cover for the first meeting's agenda but we can probably do that on the Express tomorrow. I'll meet you in the prefect car after I make up with my dullard of a best friend. I think we'd better go get some sleep lest we start our final year groggy."

"Well we can't have that."

Hermione helped Draco pack up what he had scattered around. "You were studying?" She feigned shock and he just rolled his eyes.

He walked her to her room and as she was about to close her door he put his hand up against it to stop her. "Perhaps," he said quietly, hesitantly, "having a real friend isn't going to be such a bad thing."

Present

"I have never despised you so much as I do right now Granger. I am never making another friend again."

Had Hermione not knowingly conscripted him for a highly unpleasant task on the grounds of friendship, she might have tried to defend herself. She was also still reeling from just how awful the past few hours were and Draco had drawn, quite literally, a shorter straw. She owed him for this and they both knew it.

"We had to check," Harry said from the end of their little procession, "it would have been a natural place for Voldemort to hide one."

Hermione led the way up the stone tunnel. She felt filthy and tried hard not to think about exactly what her robes were covered with.

"I have to admit that I'm with Malfoy here," Ron said from behind her. His weary and defeated voice was not nearly as telling as the sentiment it expressed. He was very, very unhappy.

"The Chamber of Secrets would have been a perfect hiding place Ron," she said. "Stay here for a second."

Hermione poked her head out as the sink swiveled to reveal the opening into the girl's bathroom. She made a thorough search of the washroom and stalls and made particular sure the Myrtle was not there before she called the boys out.

Harry had a brave face on but Ron and Draco, both covered with slime and pieces of snake-skin, grumbled together.

"I still think you cheated somehow," Draco said with a glare.

Hermione laughed. "I thought you Slytherins were the ones that cheated. Besides, Harry and I won fair and square. Somebody had to search the big cave the Basilisk had been living in and unluckily for you, it was you guys."

"And I thought having a million hand-me-downs was unlucky. It doesn't get much worse than mucking around in the room where a monster spent a thousand bloody years digesting rats and shedding and doing other things I don't really want to think about right now." Ron sniffed at his robes and made a face.

"I'm so glad I got to fly around and explore the top half of the place – it was almost pleasant," Harry said with a smile. Both Draco and Ron gave him their dirtiest glare and Hermione had cough away her laugh.

"Well it was all a waste of time wasn't it? It's not like we found anything," Ron whined.

"I hate to say it but the Chamber of Secrets would have been my best guess," Draco offered.

Ron and Harry both accepted his remark without comment. Despite their initial reservations, they were getting used to Draco as he spent more and more time around her. They also seemed to recognize the effort Draco put into being civil and both responded in kind. Hermione had a feeling that Ron did it mostly because he felt bad for their argument right before school started but she would accept it anyways.

"Well I don't really know what to do now." Hermione looked at her friends helplessly. "I think that's all the places in this school that Lord Voldemort would find important."

Ron barely flinched at the name. "Do we even know that he hid one here?"

"I'm almost certain he did," Harry said. "Apparently he applied for a job back before my parents were in school with Dumbledore but Dumbledore seems to think that it was just an excuse to come to Hogwarts."

"To hide something you mean?" Draco asked.

"Either that or he just missed Sir Barmy-Cadogan." Ron rolled his eyes.

Hermione smiled as she remembered Sir Cadogan offering to defend her honor just that morning when Ernie Macmillan accidentally bumped into her. "So we agree that he hid it here somewhere?"

"He had to have," Harry said firmly. "We just have to figure out where."

They all exchanged looks.

"We're missing something then," she said finally. "I guess we just keep thinking on it."

Hermione found herself outside of the portrait she knew to be Draco's door as her patrols ended that evening. She had never visited Draco's room and she found herself slightly apprehensive as to what it may contain. Irrational images of chains hanging from the walls and ceilings flooded her head and she shook them away as she knocked.

The painting swung out almost immediately. He had a wand in his hand but put it away upon seeing her.

"Busy?" she asked, trying to peer past him and hoping he was alone – the alternative could be awkward.

"Not at all, please come in." Draco stepped aside and waved. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"You're not humble, why should your abode be?" she asked.

He stuck his head into the hall and made a quick sweep of the area before closing the portrait of a renaissance era Wizard. "To what do I owe this honor?" He leaned against the back of the painting and gave her a curious smile.

"Nothing much, thought I'd come by and say thanks."

"You already did earlier – right before I took what might be the longest shower ever taken at Hogwarts, I might add."

"Well I thought it would mean more over a drink."

"What've you got there?" he asked as she pulled out two bottles from her robes.

"Butterbeer." Hermione was pleasantly surprised by the neatness of his room. Had it been covered with Gryffindor hangings instead of Slytherin, she might have mistaken it for her own.

"You shouldn't have," Draco said, walking to the bed tossing a pillow on the floor. A muttered word and a swish of his wand and the pillow became a dark green armchair that faced his desk. He walked over to the latter and opened a drawer.

"Well, I really do appreciate you coming with us today."

"No I mean – you shouldn't have." He head up a glass tumbler of what was clearly liquor.

"How on Earth did you sneak in - is that whiskey?" she asked incredulously. The amber liquid in the bottle swirled beautifully in the low light.

"I know a guy." Draco shrugged.

"That's a fine example you're setting. How did you ever manage to get the Head Boy post?"

"I seduced Dumbledore."

A groan from deep inside her chest escaped as Hermione dropped into the armchair and covered her face with her hands. She could not stop her shoulders from shaking in laughter and she heard Draco chuckle with her.

"I can do without that kind of imagery, thank you. And I'm sticking to butterbeer."

"Suit yourself." Draco returned one of the glasses he picked up from the bookshelf and sat himself in his desk chair.

"What Harry, Ron and I do – it's not all fun and games," she started, watching as he poured himself some whiskey from his tumbler. "And what you went through today must've sucked if you're not used to it. I'm sorry."

Draco held up a hand. "Don't worry yourself too much. My neck's also on the line in June, you know. And as far as experiences go, it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to me, I suppose."

"Does that mean you'd do it again?" Hermione grinned at the thought. She popped the cap on her bottle.

"A snowball's chance in hell Granger."

She laughed. "Usually it's more horrifying than disgusting – our adventures. However I'd take sludging through a millennium of snake waste over people dying any day."

"All the same, let's avoid the snake waste and digested rodent skeletons if we can." Draco took a sip of his drink as if he had done it a thousand times before.

"It's a deal."

"So how goes the tête-à-têtes with the prince of darkness?" His serious expression belied his droll tone.

"Haven't talked to him for almost two weeks. He's expecting me to go to Dumbledore with some tip and return to him after we've checked it out."

"The thing about the orphanage?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, sucking the foam from the top of her butterbeer before gulping some down. "It could make a decent enough hideout but there'd be no chance he'd put a Horcrux in that place."

"Well at least you don't have to deal with him for a bit."

"No kidding. He unnerves me."

"I would certainly hope so."

They both stopped talking for a few seconds to drink their drinks and think on the boy who became Lord Voldemort.

"You know, sometimes Tom Riddle will speak and behave like any guy in our year. And then he'll say something, something most people couldn't even think about, like it was nothing…" She frowned. "I almost liked him back when I was twelve. He was a little strange but - I enjoyed talking to him until, you know, he sent a Basilisk to kill me. Now we're just enemies playing a game of poker and trying to hide our tells."

"You should tread carefully here Granger," Draco said gravely.

"I am being careful."

"You are far too trusting for your own good, loathe as I am to agree with Weasley."

"It's not always a bad thing," she said in her own defense.

"No, probably not – but it's a dangerous thing. As much as I appreciate it Granger, and I do, you really shouldn't be as trusting of me as you are."

"I'll take that under advisement," she said sarcastically.

"Not that I'm not imminently trustworthy," he continued, ignoring her. "But there are those that are not. You could get into a lot of trouble by being such a good person – a fact that we Slytherins have spent centuries trying to drum into you Gryffindors."

"Empirically."

Draco shrugged. "Best way to learn."

"Well, a good person is all I know how to be," she said quietly.

"That's admirable Granger. And if you don't accept that some people can't be saved, that's going to go on your tombstone."

"Is it even worth living if I don't follow what I believe in?" she asked with a frown.

"I'm not a philosopher, just a Slytherin. But is it worth believing in something if you're too dead to fight for it?"

Hermione laughed. She took another swig from her bottle. "I think we're at an impasse."

"Don't let him get to you, Granger. You might just be the first real friend I've ever had, and you mean something to me because of it; Tom Riddle has no reason to care about you."

"You sell yourself short Draco, maybe you care because you're just a good person."

A look of horror appeared on his face. "I don't believe that at all. Please don't spread it around."

She was about to respond when there was a knock on the portrait. Draco's look of surprise told her that he had not been expecting anyone. Both of them stiffened.

"Mr. Malfoy, have you seen Miss Granger anywhere?" Professor McGonagall's voice was muffled but they both easily made out her words; she must have been yelling into the painting.

Hermione exchanged a puzzled look with Draco.

"Yes, she's right here," he shouted as he got up and put his glass on the desk.

Hermione placed her bottle on the ground and followed him to the entrance. They were both taken aback by the Deputy Headmaster's frazzled appearance.

"Professor?" Hermione tried to keep her voice free of the worry she was now feeling.

Their transfiguration professor looked past them, taking in the armchair and the bottles. She pursed her lips but obviously decided not to comment for all she said was "I am going to need you to come with me to the hospital wing Miss Granger."

"Did something happen to Harry or Ron?" she asked quickly.

"No, nothing of that sort. There is, however, a rather delicate situation that we thought you could help with." Sorrow her teacher rarely showed now evident on her face.

"What happened, Professor?" Draco decided to join the conversation.

Professor McGonagall looked between Hermione and Draco a few times before finally sighing. "Abby Grimly's parents were killed tonight." She named a second year Hufflepuff girl that Hermione had spoken with a few times before.

"Grimly is a Wizarding family," Draco pointed out. "I'm just saying that it's odd," he added at Hermione's look.

"Apparently You-Know-Who has been trying to recruit the Grimlys for quite a while and they were unable to stall any longer," Professor McGonagall said heavily. Her statement was followed by a short silence as the two students digested it.

"What do you need me for?" Hermione asked after she pushed down her initial horror and sadness.

"Miss Grimly is refusing to speak to anyone and refusing to drink or eat anything offered to her. Madam Pomfrey is reluctant to force her to ingest a potion at this point, even a sleeping draught. The girl will not acknowledge any of the staff and we thought that you might have better luck Miss Granger."

"Well of course, whatever I can do," Hermione said. She caught Draco's concerned expression and shrugged. "We can finish our conversation later; sorry I can't help you clean up…"

"Don't worry about it," Draco interrupted. "Just go."

She nodded and followed her Head of House down the hall, looking back and waving at Draco before she turned the corner. He was leaning against the frame of his entranceway with a thoughtful expression as he watched her leave.

On the way up to the hospital wing, Hermione could not help but wonder what his own feelings were considering the recent death of his mother. She would have to talk to him about it soon but right now Abby's situation was far more urgent.

It was six in the morning by the time Hermione returned to her room.

She sat with the girl in silence for hours behind a curtain in the hospital wing. Abby, perhaps in shock or as some sort of defense mechanism, just stared at the wall and did not move a muscle in all that time. Hermione, after having made her own presence known, simply waited.

Finally Abby looked over at her with wide horrified eyes and broke down crying. Hermione had held her as she sobbed. Only when she cried herself out of tears was Hermione able to convince her to take the dreamless sleeping draught. The absence of the pain would be temporary but it was all Hermione could offer for now. The girl would sleep for most of the day; Hermione promised to check on her in the evening.

She entered her room weary and exhausted but she did not have time to sleep. She pulled off her outer layer to go and take a shower when she happened to glance over at her desk. She froze.

It took a second to digest that, though seemingly impossible, someone had disturbed Tom Riddle's Journal.

The book had been hidden in plain sight in a pile of her other books. While it was still in its place, the order of the books above it had been changed. Hermione's pile might seem unordered to the untrained eye but she was able to tell when her intricate organization had been messed up almost instantly. She pulled the small Journal out and frowned at it. As she examined the book, her mind ran through a list of exactly who might have done it.

The Journal itself seemed unaffected and Hermione could not tell if anyone had written in it.

Of her friends, Draco and Ginny knew about the Journal. Ginny had a history of stealing Tom Riddle's diaries and knew the password to the Head Girl's room but Hermione could not believe that Ginny would do such a thing now without coming to her first. Draco was, as Harry had said a few weeks ago, still a wildcard and he was certainly smart enough to find a way into her room. However, Hermione could not think of a reason why he would want to.

And to give her friends the benefit of the doubt, Hermione had to consider the other possibilities. Occasionally, house-elves have managed to move things or even misplace them while cleaning, though this happened very rarely. And Dumbledore could have easily done it for motives that she did not understand. It could also have been Tom himself and Hermione frowned at her oversight; a book with a soul had, quite literally, a mind of its own. She should not have left it unattended for so long.

Hermione thought about what she should do as she showered. Besides putting some detection spells in her room, there was not much she could do. Her friendship with Draco was too tenuous to wildly accuse him of breaking and entering and she was not about to do something rash when it came to Ginny in regards to anything relating to Tom Riddle.

She carried the diary with her for the next week, feeling the weight of it under her robes almost constantly. Along with the Journal, Hermione also picked up a bout of insomnia; she had been unable to sleep until the early hours of the morning since the death of Abby's parents.

On a few of the evenings, she made trips to the library under the invisibility cloak to read books from the Restricted Section, just for something to do. The same trip in the middle of the night might have caused her uneasiness years before, but now she knew what she had to be afraid of – and it was not anything that could jump out at her in the halls of Hogwarts.

And Hermione was not alone in finding new ways to cope.

Harry divided his free time between quidditch practice and practicing techniques from various Defense Against Dark Arts books in the Room of Requirement. He dragged the rest of them in with him when they had time; Hermione spent at least an hour every few days dueling with Harry and Ron and very rarely Ginny.

This was a lot more useful than what both Draco and Ron were doing. Ron had decided that "Lavender really wasn't that bad" and was now in the middle of courting her back. If all went well in the coming year, they would probably be starting a family right after graduation. He had already started talking about having Lavender at home looking after the children as he pursued his professional quidditch career. Though Hermione was not completely happy with the idea of Ron back with Lavender, it was hard for her to be jealous of the life that awaited the other girl.

While Ron was occupied in the attainment of one girl, Draco seemed to be busy trying to get as many as possible. From the pieces of gossip Hermione picked up here and there, he was using the "This could be our last year to live" line with a fair amount of success. He did not tell her about these escapades and she did not ask.

And since Hermione's first mentioning of reviving Tom Riddle to Ginny, the younger girl had buried herself in school, friends, and quidditch. Her grades were improving and she had an active social life. She also spent more time than anyone on the pitch practicing. And curiously, she seemed to be avoiding Hermione, Harry and Ron. Ginny was polite but always too busy with someone or something else to sit with them at meals or hang out in the common room.

Hermione was not quite sure what was going on in the youngest Weasley's head but she did not want to intrude, especially when the girl projected the epitome of student life. If Ginny were truly happy and content with her life, the last thing Hermione wanted to do was disrupt it. At least someone should be happy right now.

And the least happy person in the school was Abby Grimly. Though she had rejoined classes in the week since her tragedy, she did not interact with anyone. Instead, Abby preferred to sit outside and stare off into space for hours on end. No matter what nook or cranny she managed to find though, there was always a Hufflepuff student nearby. It was not always a Hufflepuff student Abby was friends with, sometimes just a higher year who happened to be studying below the adjacent tree.

Had a Gryffindor suffered something similar, the rest of the house, being Gryffindors themselves, would have been inadequate support. As a group, they would have avoided the sufferer, not knowing how to face such irreparable devastation. Ravenclaws, smart as they are, would be unable to understand a loss that was beyond words. And Slytherins did not do much supporting or sharing in general. An Abby Grimly in any of those houses might have a few friends around, but nothing close to the unspoken protection of everyone with a yellow and black badge the real Abby now received from Hufflepuff. And it surprised Hermione that after seven years, she still had to re-evaluate her opinion of the four houses that made up Hogwarts.

A week after walking into the hospital wing for the young girl, Hermione found herself in a crisis of her own.

She was going to fail a test.

Hermione spent most of the previous evening and well into the early morning reading. It was only at about four that she could make herself go to sleep and as a result, she practically sleep-walked through her classes today.

Now she wished that she had gotten more sleep, or at least spent her time reviewing History of Magic. Instead, she had read for hours on ways to keep her extended family safe in case she did not survive graduation. The subject matter had not helped her sleep as she could not shed the looming sense of disaster and worry for those she cared about.

Her plan was just to make it through classes and go nap in the afternoon and it all would have worked had Binns not decided to give a surprise test in last period.

And now as Hermione stared at the test on which she was unable to focus, she could not help feeling that maybe she really should not care.

She was still Hermione Granger and could not avoid the distant feeling of horror at failing something but another voice countered that the last thing she should be worried about is a test. It would mean nothing if she dies in June.

She blinked a few times, trying to clear her head. Her thoughts were fuzzy as a result of too little sleep too many nights in a row. Ron had tried to get her to plead sickness and get sent to the hospital wing but she had assured him that she would be fine. Now she wished that she had taken his advice for once and ditched the test on dubious grounds.

With significant effort and concentration, Hermione bent over the parchment and focused on the first question.

In what year did the leader of the first Goblin rebellion, Gug the Grimy, come into power?

Hermione knew the answer. She could see the page of the textbook the answer was on – see the pictures and the headings. She could even remember the smell of Molly's Yorkshire pudding baking in the kitchen downstairs when she read that page early summer. But the date would not come to her.

She closed her eyes and eased her grip on her quill before she snapped it. She was going to fail this test. And what would the rest of the school think? How was she supposed to hold everything and everyone together if she clearly lost her grip on herself? And why should a date centuries ago matter when they were living a war?

Hermione closed her eyes and willed the number to come to her but just could not recall with all the thoughts swimming in her head. A part of her wanted to cry.

"The answer is 1596."

Hermione's heart nearly skipped a beat. She must be hallucinating. She slowly opened her eyes and could see robes at the edge of her desk. Very slowly she looked up into the face of one somewhat translucent Tom Riddle. He had his head tilted sideways and was scrutinizing her with unconcealed amusement.

Oh god I've fallen asleep, she thought in horror. The Journal, which she carried with her all week, was sitting inside her robes. And now she's fallen asleep in the middle of class and he's invaded her bloody dreams again.

Hermione slowly looked around. Harry was writing slowly but he seemed to be fairly confident. Ron, on her other side, had this look of blank incredulousness as he read the questions but that was normal. And standing in front of her desk was Tom Riddle.

Hermione looked past, or rather through, him to Binns, who was returning her stare with a puzzled look of his own. He looked right through Tom as if he were not there.

Hermione could only look now at the manifested Heir of Slytherin. She knew the second he said the date that he was correct. He was standing in front of her in his school uniform and he walked over beside her to look down over her shoulder at the parchment.

"Gug was chosen as leader in 1596," Tom said again. The bemused smile on his face grew.

She closed her eyes again and reached down with her left hand to pinch herself. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out at the pain. Okay, so it's not a dream, she told herself. Maybe I'm hallucinating; maybe I'm just that tired.

Deliberately ignoring Tom, she moved her quill down to the second question. Before she had even finished reading it, he once again supplied the answer.

"Olaf the Oblong." There was a silky amused quality to his voice that made her want to stand up and punch him in his incorporeal face.

She risked another glance sideways at Harry, who was still diligently writing. He had not heard Tom speak. She must be hallucinating Tom; it was the only option unless…it was not. Oh lord, she thought, I can see him somehow. She slowly put down her quill and moved her right hand to her left side and felt the Journal below her robes.

Hermione turned and looked up slowly again at Tom. He lifted an eyebrow.

She could not ignore all the answers he gave her or she would fail the test. And there was still a chance that he was just a manifestation of her subconscious in which case his answers were really her answers.

Slowly she picked up the quill again and jotted '1596' and 'Olaf the Oblong' in the first two spaces. She immediately read the next question and wrote the answer just as he was speaking it.

"May 18th."

She continued on, frantically scribbling the answers as fast as she could so as to figure out the next one before he answered it for her. It became something of a comical race between them as her quill flew down the page.

He answered more quickly than Hermione but writing slowed her down. The more her mind worked, the clearer her head became. She was so intent on writing that she was rather surprised when she reached the end of the parchment and there were no more questions left.

Hermione slammed down her quill to look up and glare at Tom and realized that she had the attention of every other student in the room. All nine other seventh year Gryffindors were staring at her with various expressions of amazement and shock. Harry and Ron were both looking at her with wide eyes and open mouths.

As Hermione looked over at Binns, her eyes stopped on the clock and she realized it was only six minutes into the hour-long test. She gulped. Even Professor Binns, the normally unflappable ghost, appeared surprised.

Trying to appear as casual as possible, she slowly slid out of her desk and brought the parchment to the professor. She pleaded Head Girl duties that needed attention and walked out when he nodded numbly. Tom followed close on her heels.

She winced as the door closed behind her. She knew, even without Tom Riddle telling her as well, that she answered every single question correctly. Now she's going to get a reputation as some sort of freak – even more so than before. The only good thing that test accomplished was to get her adrenaline pumping.

Hermione wanted to stop and talk to him but there were students in the halls and she could not afford the added smear of being someone who talks to herself or worse, to invisible people. It was almost as bad as hearing voices, which she had told once told Harry was a very bad thing indeed. That did not, however, stop Tom Riddle from speaking to her as she speed-walked to her room.

"Are you not going to thank me?" he asked as he smoothly fell into step beside her.

She ignored him.

"I have to admit, your manners are remarkably rustic – even for a Gryffindor. Unless I am mistaken, I just saved you from a rather embarrassing flunking of an easy test."

Hermione halted and made a quick sweep of the area. She turned to him with a glare. "You are mistaken. I was fine!" she hissed.

"And here I thought you excelled academically," he said calmly as she continued on. "I suppose you were just overstating your abilities. It is only natural for a muggleborn I suppose."

She bit her lip to keep from snapping at him as they continued down the halls of Hogwarts.

Tom followed her into her room just before she slammed the portrait.

"What did you think you were doing?" She flung her bag so hard it slid across the room before stopping against the wall.

"Helping you," he said calmly, sitting down on her desk.

"I didn't need your help!"

"You're right of course – you were doing perfectly fine blinking at the test parchment."

"Well now I basically just cheated on a test." She sat down on her bed and put her hand to her forehead.

He smiled as if she said something funny. "So?"

"So?" Hermione looked at him in disbelief.

"Who is going to know?"

"I am!"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Ah yes, the Gryffindor code of morality. It's awfully touching but will not make any significant impact on your grades."

"It's not about grades," Hermione said with exasperation.

"Not about grades?" Tom said with a quirked eyebrow. "And here I thought you were adamant about doing better than me in school."

"Yes well at this point I would be happy just to survive school." It was not something she could ever say to her friends, for fear of burdening them with her worries when they had so many of their own already. She was so relieved to say it out loud that she forgot for a moment who she was talking to. It came back with a jolt. "Because you are probably going to kill me in nine months."

"Not I," he said, frowning slightly. "I am no longer a part of Lord Voldemort."

Hermione mulled over that. He was right – technically. "But you would be if you had a choice," she pointed out.

"Maybe." A slight smile appeared on his face. "Or maybe not."

"Comforting," she said sarcastically.

"What? Are you afraid of me?" His eyes took a predatory gleam and Hermione raised her chin in response.

"You want me to say no – but only a fool would not be afraid of someone so dangerous or evil."

Tom let the description of himself pass. "A fool or a Gryffindor. I suppose the two are synonymous."

"I won't deny that I'm a Gryffindor and only time will tell if I'm a fool, but I shall certainly not acquiesce to being one."

He studied her for a few long seconds, contemplative. "I am a good judge of people; I do not believe you're a fool."

"I'll agree to half of that."

He smirked, bemused. "Do you have a problem with my associates?"

"Lord Voldemort's associates," she reminded him, "are stupid or insane or greedy or cowards and sometimes a combination of the above."

"And I suppose you are none of those things?" he asked with a questioning smile.

"I certainly hope not."

"It's nice to have company, I suppose."

She laughed. "Are you saying that we're the same? Because we're not - you are at the very least insane." But as she said it, she could not help doubting. In all her conversations with Tom Riddle, even in light of his recalcitrant opinions, he had never struck her as incoherent or deranged.

"We both know that's untrue as well. Are you angry at me because I'm smarter than you are?" His matter-of-fact manner made the question sound more condescending.

"Excuse me?" She flared – she could not help it. "I'm angry that people are dying out there because of you. I'm angry that people are becoming orphans because of you. I'm angry because I'm probably not going to survive to see another autumn because of you. And I'm angry that I can't even fail a bloody test!"

He frowned. "Did you want to fail the test?"

She bit her lip.

"Why on Earth would you want to fail a test?"

"If I failed," she said slowly, trying to figure it out as she spoke, "then I wouldn't have to care about school. If I failed one test, the rest are automatically less important. Maybe I could just focus on living to my next birthday then. Maybe I could focus on something important." She looked up into his eyes, challenging. "Like destroying you."

"Merlin forbid something distracting you from that endeavor."

"You are not smarter than me."

That got an almost-genuine smile from him. "You didn't know when Gug came into power."

"I haven't been sleeping well, thank you."

"I know."

Hermione's eyebrows snapped together. "You know…of course you know. You've been spying on me."

"Shhh." Tom brought his finger to his lips, along with her attention.

"How long?" she demanded, trying not to focus on his facial features.

"One week, give or take."

That made sense; it was how long she's been carrying the Journal around. She tried to recall if anything important had been discussed between her and her friends during the time. To her relief she could not remember the word Horcrux coming up. Hermione's hand went to her robes and she unbuttoned them to pull out the small bound book. She shed the robes at the same time and unbuttoned the top button of her shirt. Putting the book in her lap, she ran her fingers along the cover. "How?" she asked finally, looking back at him.

"I don't know," he shrugged slightly. "How were you able to bring me back? I believe the two questions are related."

Hermione blanched inside at the idea of discussing the issue of soul mates with Tom Riddle. "Is that why I can see you?"

"Maybe you see me because you want to," he suggested blandly.

Hermione glared. "I most definitely do not want to see you." She turned and tossed at the Journal across the room. Tom Riddle did not disappear. She sighed; apparently the Journal did not have to be on her person for her to see him.

"Perhaps you could not throw that around like a quaffle?" he said.

"I can do whatever I want," she reminded him with a pointed look at the journal. "And I may not be able to stop you from looking around but I definitely don't have to see or hear you. Leave me the hell alone."

"I thought you wanted my assistance."

"Do you have assistance?" she said, not bothering to hide her disbelief.

"I have another idea as where my counterpart may be hiding." At her look, he continued. "Perhaps you could try the dwellings of my associates."

Hermione had to resist the urge to shiver every time he referred to Lord Voldemort as himself. While his suggestion was something they would have guessed anyway, it was also remarkably accurate. Lord Voldemort was hiding in Lucius Malfoy's manor.

Hermione frowned. She could not figure out if he was being helpful, trying to appear helpful or being destructive somehow. That was obviously the point. "Okay, you've offered your assistance, now leave me alone." She put as much steel as she could in the last part.

Tom hopped to his translucent feet. "Is that an order?" At his full height, he made a very cutting figure, as well as a fairly intimidating one.

Hermione stood as well, looking up slightly at him. "Take it as whatever you want – just leave me alone. If you start interfering with my life, I'm going to stop you."

He nodded at her. Then a slow smile crept upon his face - it was halfway between amused and malevolent. "Before I leave, I'll just say one more thing: if you keep turning so much in your sleep, you'll fall off the bed." With that, he disappeared.

It took a second for Hermione to absorb what he said and she promptly turned and left her room, leaving the Journal still on the floor. Safety and smartness be damned.

She ran outside into the bright and sunny afternoon. Her skin crawled as she recalled his last comment and she moved hands over her arms, brushing at the insects that were not there.

Hermione found a good sized tree away from any students and collapsed against the trunk. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head back against the bark. Breathing slowly, she forced herself to think it through.

The first problem was the inherent voyeurism implied. Though she was never in less than her knickers and bra unless she was in her bathroom, she could not be sure that he could not see through the walls. But Hermione did not think that he really cared about things like that. He could have taunted her with having seen her naked but he choose instead to point out that he watches her while she slept.

But that did not really bother her either. She might be helpless then, but it was clear that he could not do much more than watch. He did not seem to have poltergeist qualities like Peeves. But the intimacy still made her shiver in the sunlight.

Somehow she was able to dream of him back when she was twelve and again now. Somehow his soul followed her from the Chamber of Secrets and asked her to help him. Somehow she was able to take a shattered soul that had been all but destroyed and repair it. Idly, Hermione wondered if it had cost her anything to do so. Dumbledore would not have let her do it if she would be in danger, would he?

If she continued bringing the Journal around with her – which she would have to in order to ensure it did not fall into the wrong hands – he could also watch her the rest of the time. The alternative was to leave it unguarded in her room as it was now. But she could not, especially for long periods of time when people knew she would be out of her room. The Journal – Tom Riddle – could cause such mayhem in the wrong hands.

She also could not help wonder what he could learn from her just by observation. And just how far had he gotten in learning Legilimency by his seventh year? A shiver went through her. Could he do it even without being completely corporeal? He might be stealing her thoughts and her soul out from under her right now. Would she know?

She promised herself that at the first hint of him feeding off of her life and soul, she would destroy the Journal. Until then, there was nothing to do but pretend to not let him get to her. She was a Gryffindor after all.

Despite this, she did not return to her room until long after dinner. Watching Harry and Ron duel settled her greatly and she was mostly composed by the time she came back to her bedroom. The Journal lay where it had fallen and she put it on the desk when she walked in, steadfastly refusing to look at it afterwards.

After Hermione had settled into bed with her Potions textbook, she forced herself to start reading and not think about how Tom Riddle Jr. might be studying her every move. It took her even longer to fall asleep than the night before; by the time she closed her eyes she had read the textbook from cover to cover.

It was almost eleven when knocks on her door woke her up. Hermione rolled over in bed and covered her head with her pillow.

"Hermione, we brought you breakfast!" Harry and Ron were both calling her name outside and banging on her portrait door.

"Go away," she mumbled into her sheets.

"I think your little friends want your attention." The cool amused voice came from inside her room.

Hermione gave up; she was outnumbered. She threw the pillow aside and sat up, blinking blearily at the bright room.

Tom Riddle sat on top of her desk with rays of light streaming though him from the window. Hermione glared at him as best as she could while squinting.

"It is way too early for all of you," she said grouchily. She got out of bed and padded to the door. The portrait swung in to reveal Harry and Ron, holding a glass of juice and two muffins respectively.

"You're not supposed to take food out of the dining hall," Hermione said with half-hearted frustration.

"Aww, you're not going to dock points are you?" Ron asked as he put the muffins down on her desk.

"Of course not."

"You missed breakfast 'Mione," Harry said with a frown. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine." She smiled reassuringly. "I just stayed up late studying."

"Excellent," Ron said, wandering over slowly to her desk. Hermione froze for a second; even Ron might question why there was a green and silver diary-looking book on her desk. "Get dressed and come with us to Hogsmeade."

"Draco and I have to go to sit in on the Head of Houses meeting Ron, you know that."

He turned to look at her and she moved past him, shuffling the books on her desk and slipping the Journal into the middle of the pile. She ignored Tom who sat on the edge observing her interaction with her friends with the air of one studying creatures in the wild.

"Oh damn, our prefect meeting is just after isn't it?"

"He's a prefect?" Tom sounded more shocked than she had ever heard him and it took all her self-control not to laugh.

"Yes Ronald. It's this afternoon at three so if you guys are going to go, you'd better go soon. I won't have time to do anything there if I come with you guys."

Harry made a face. "I guess we'll just get you something then 'Mione. Anything in particular you want from Honeydukes or Zonkos?"

"Surprise me," she grinned at him and reached up to ruffle his naturally ruffled hair. He batted her hand away good-naturedly and ran his own through his hair a few times to try and set it straight.

"Will do. Enjoy your breakfast." He nodded to her food with a grin and headed out, gesturing to Ron. "See you at dinner!"

"Yeah, and see you at the meeting," Ron said as he followed Harry.

"You'd better be there!" she called after him before shutting the portrait. She closed her eyes for a second, gathering strength. Tom pre-empted her rant.

"Your friends are rather droll."

She turned. "Don't critique my friends. You have no right to talk about them at all. And what the hell are you doing? What part of leave me alone don't you understand?"

Tom shrugged lightly. "I thought you were being facetious."

"No – no you didn't." But she would not destroy the Journal and any possibility of future assistance from him just because he annoyed her slightly, and he knew it.

She walked into her washroom with a change of clothes and, after waiting a minute to make sure he would not come through the door, got ready. "What do you hope to achieve by haunting me?" She yelled through the door as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"What makes you think there is an end purpose?" His voice came from just outside the door.

She frowned at that as she brushed her teeth. When she finally opened the door, which swung right through Tom, she glared at him. "Are you bored then? Twenty years in Lucius Malfoy's storage, a few months of causing mayhem, four years of oblivion and now my company is just a pleasant change?"

He did not move and she finally walked through him. It felt eerie like a bucket of cold water was dumped over her head but she emerged completely dry.

He followed her. "It's a change."

"Well I'm so glad that my life is entertaining but I really don't care for you so if you would please just leave me alone -" She turned to face him, leaning back against her desk.

"And miss the chance to comment on your - fascinating life?" His derisive tone met an unchanged stony expression on her side.

"Doesn't this violate some pure-blood code of yours? Aren't you worried that I'm going to taint you somehow with my muddy blood?"

"I highly doubt that," he said with an easy smile. "And why is it that every time we speak, you bring up the issue of blood? One might think that you had a preoccupation with the subject."

Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me? I have a preoccupation with blood? Coming from the man who became Lord Voldemort?"

"I happened to have many other interests."

"Like what?" she asked in reflex.

"Quidditch."

"Quidditch." She repeated skeptically as she picked up one of the muffins.

"Yes."

"Oh let me guess – beater?" she asked with exaggerated thought.

"Seeker, actually."

"Of course. Deciding the match without doing any of the dirty work – I can see that."

Tom crossed his arms. "I believe that both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were seekers in your second year and, from what I've observed over the last week, both are also your friends."

Hermione was about to say that Harry did not choose to be seeker but could not see that argument going anywhere. "Were you any good?"

"I am an excellent flyer and an acute observer."

Hermione looked into his eyes and tried to picture him as some sort of quidditch star but all she saw when she stared hard at him was the red-eyed monstrosity with slits for nostrils. She took a sip of juice and decided to humor him. After all, the more she knew of him, the better her chances of finding his Horcrux hiding places.

"And what else did you do?"

"I studied snakes."

"Of course you did."

"And other mystical creatures. I am especially fond of…"

"Dragons." She finished his sentence automatically and could not say which of them looked more surprised.

"How did you know that?"

"I'm not sure," she said slowly. She had not planned to say anything until the word came out of her mouth. It did explain how he had managed to obtain a Norwegian Ridgeback egg in first year though.

He stared at her for a few more moments before continuing. "I also dabble in wandless magic."

"I know," she said, recalling what Harry had told her about his encounter with Lord Voldemort after Bellatrix killed Sirius.

Then something occurred to her. "Do you also dabble in legilimency?"

He startled but got a hold of himself quickly. "Occasionally."

"Why?"

Tom studied her intently for a few seconds before sighing. His eyes grew distant. "There was a girl in Ravenclaw," he started quietly, leaning back against the wall she was facing. "She had eyes that were paradoxically both the sharpest and softest eyes I had ever seen. And her laugh…" He trailed off and looked away. His smooth voice and low tone were hypnotic and Hermione felt herself being drawn in. "I did not know what she was thinking and I wanted to - more than anything. I wanted to know if she wanted to be near me all the time too, wanted to know if she loved me the way I loved her. I wanted her to grace my life with her light and sparkle and complete me."

He finally stopped and looked at her, a shadow of a smile on his face.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. He had crossed the line of plausibility – undoubtedly on purpose – and entered the ridiculous.

"All of that's a lie?"

He smirked at her. "What do you think?"

She scowled in return because she had almost believed him, despite her better sense. He may not truly understand emotions like love but he was damn good at faking it. "How are you able to spin a story like that? Have you been reading romance novels or something?"

"You won't believe what young boys would come to you with when you're Head Boy."

"I'm not impressed."

"I did not intend to impress you. The ability to create a believable story out of the impossible can not hope to hold a candle to breakfast foods." He nodded at the second muffin that she just picked up.

"Breakfast foods tend not to kill people," she said before she took a bite. After she swallowed, she frowned at him. "Don't you even wonder what love is like? You seem so sure that it's useless but Professor Dumbledore has always said that love is more powerful…"

"Than any magic," he finished. Tom rolled his eyes. "Just more of Dumbledore's drivel that I stopped listening to even before I started Hogwarts."

"He's an incredibly powerful wizard."

"So am I," he said with a tight smile. "And I managed to do it without any of his – love."

"You're missing out."

"I doubt that. Love is just an excuse for people to justify weakness."

"Lily Potter saved her son and almost destroyed Lord Voldemort out of love," she said. "Unless you think that's some kind of fluke."

"I am not saying that there is no power in love," Tom said seriously. "Any idiot who believes in it gives it power. Lord Voldemort did not underestimate love so much as he underestimated Lily Potter. I doubt he will make that mistake again."

"Well, no," she said with another frown. "Lily Potter is dead."

"But there are others like her – bright muggleborns who don't understand their place in the war." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"You're talking about me, of course. I should be honored to do half as well as Harry's mother did," she said firmly.

"At the expense of your life?"

"Better than dying for nothing."

"I choose not to die at all."

"That's certainly your prerogative, but I think you're missing out."

"On what? Love?" he asked with a disdainful smirk.

"Sure. And happiness. Are you even happy? Have you ever been happy?"

He said nothing and his face became carefully blank.

"Have you ever managed to cast a patronus charm?" she continued. "Do you even know what yours looks like?"

His eyes met hers and held them. What he was looking for, she did not know. Then she had to shake her head.

"You don't, do you?" She laughed coldly. "Harry cast it successfully when he was thirteen."

"Happy memories are not something of which I have an ample supply." His face darkened. "I have other ways to deal with dementors."

"Out of curiosity, is that how you decide what is worthless? If you can't have it or do it then it's not important?" Hermione knew that she was pushing it but something drove her that she could not completely explain. "Friends, family, love…"

"I had friends."

"No, you had subjects. If you'd had friends you would've been able to cast the charm."

His expression was becoming stormy, dangerous.

"It must really eat you up that all these weak, pathetic, useless muggles can all be so happy and you can't even summon up one good memory."

"They won't be very soon," he snapped back. "Not if I have anything to do with it. That will be a good memory." His face twisted into something ugly.

Hermione smiled – it was not a happy smile but it was triumphant nonetheless. "And that, Lord Voldemort, is why I don't want to talk to you or have anything to do with you. And I'm definitely not being facetious." She turned to put her books in her bag and when she looked back, he had disappeared.

He was gone for the rest of the morning.

Hermione ran into the Head meeting two minutes late, after meeting a young Hufflepuff in the hall and striking up a conversation to find out how Abby Grimly was doing. The four Heads of Houses were sitting at a small round table in the teacher's lounge. Dumbledore's chair remained conspicuously empty. He had been leaving the school for weeks at a time much as he did the year before.

She joined Draco on a cushioned bench to the side of the room after making her apologies. He greeted her with a 'this is going to be exciting' eye roll before returning to the notes he had been taking.

Hermione also pulled out her notebook and a quill.

"Your Professor McGonagall seems infinitely more efficient than Dippet was." She had not expected Tom's voice a few minutes into the meeting and startled at it. She turned slightly and saw him sitting next to her at the end of the bench. Hermione sighed.

Two hours later, Hermione was more than ready for the meeting to end. With exceptions, most of the administrative issues at Hogwarts were boring and none of her concern. The two Head Boys flanking her were of no help as well. Draco kept drifting off and she had to elbow him over a dozen times to keep him from snoring. On her other side, Tom just sat listening but his presence bothered her greatly. The only time he said something was when Professor Slughorn had complained of the increase of Slytherin-Gryffindor confrontations and he muttered "just transfigure all the Gryffindors into cabbages".

Hermione instinctively ran her other elbow into his ribs to no effect. When she withdrew her arm due to the cold, she heard him laugh quietly.

She almost clapped when her Head of House called an end to the meeting. After giving Draco one last poke in the ribs - this time hard - she stood up.

"Thank you Professor McGonagall. I shall be sure to inform the prefects of the things they need to know." Hermione turned and looked expectantly at Draco.

"Yes, good points, thank you," He mumbled as he gathered his things.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him before turning to share a smile with her Head of House.

"Have a good meeting and good evening Ms. Granger. I shall see you in class on Monday."

"Good job Draco," Hermione said as she left the room with both Head Boys following close behind. "Way to drool all over yourself."

"I was tired."

"So was I but I sat through it."

"I'm a Slytherin," Draco said as if it would be news to her. "We tend to avoid useless activities."

"He has a point," Tom said from her other side.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And why was paying attention useless again?"

"Because you were being your usual diligent self and even if I were to try, my efforts would have been easily eclipsed by your note-taking ability." He threw an arm around her shoulders.

Hermione ducked out from under his arm and frowned at him. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Nowhere with you, maybe," he said, grinning.

She shook her head at him and rolled her eyes.

"So this is Draco Malfoy, the latest of the illustrious blood line." Something about Tom's voice made her frown. He sounded unhappy but she could not turn to confirm it.

"I heard you did a rather impressive and frightening job on your History test yesterday," Draco said.

"Yes but I don't want to talk about it." She knew she would have to tell him about Tom Riddle eventually. But it would worry him and Hermione did not want to add to his burdens.

Draco laughed. "People are buzzing. They're saying that you're getting smarter every year; you're a genius; you've been ultra-smart all this time but were hiding it to blend in; you took Felix Felicis; you read minds; you're engaged in a tawdry love-affair with the Head Boy -"

Hermione stopped and stared at him. Both boys – one solid and one translucent – passed her and turned back. "What does that last one have to do with the test?"

"Nothing," Draco said with a mischievous smile. It drew a laugh from her.

"Well it'll only happen in your dreams," she grinned at him. Then she saw from the corner of her eye that Tom was glowering at them. She frowned, puzzled.

"Oy, 'Mione!" Ron waved at her from the end of the hall, breaking her thought process. He disappeared into the prefect lounge. She quickly followed, walking past both Head Boys.

"Like you've never dreamed about me," Draco said as they entered.

Everyone already in the room looked up at them. Some smiled openly while others tried to cover their amusement. Ron, sitting next to Lavender who had taken Hermione's prefect position, did not look particularly happy but also did not look openly hostile at their banter.

"Never ever." She said, setting her stuff behind the desk. "Ever," she added for good measure. Then she tilted her head in exaggerated thought. "Actually I do recall dreaming about you insulting another hippogryph. Does that count?"

"Ouch!" Draco put his hand up to his heart as the prefects laughed.

The prefect lounge was very much like a common room but without the bedrooms. It was behind a painting on the second floor and held a fireplace and a number of couches, as well as a shared desk for the Head Girl and Head Boy.

All twenty-four prefects were present today as they discussed through some administration issues such as students to keep an eye on, quidditch practice schedules, dinner menus, and, Ron's favorite, which Weasleys Wheezes are being passed around and what they do.

Hermione sat behind the desk, ticking off points as they moved through them. Draco lounged on a chaise by the fireplace, seemingly content to let her do all the work.

This meant that the chair across the table was empty, or at least it was before Tom appropriated it at the start of the meeting. He seemed content to listen to her as well.

Hermione wondered if that was a Slytherin affection of if these two boys just happened to have a lot in common.

"The final point is to remind you that our Halloween dinner has officially been declared a party. People are encouraged to dress in costumes or at least dress in something besides their uniforms. Draco and I have a small wager on whether Slytherin or Gryffindor will have more house points that morning. I'm sure you'd all rather see our Head Boy in Gryffindor colors that evening than me in Slytherin so you all know what to do."

The prefects snickered. Pansy, who now had no love for Draco, actually smirked and tossed her hair in his direction. The Head Boy in question simply smiled.

"As always, I remain confident in my house."

"I think that's pretty much it," she announced to the group of prefects sitting in front of her. "Unless there's something someone wants to bring up."

She frowned when Ron pulled at Lavender's hair as she spoke, making the other girl giggle. Surely that could wait till after the meeting.

"Hermione?" Celeste Ravencroft, a 6th year Ravenclaw prefect raised a hand hesitantly.

"Celeste?"

"I don't know about your houses, but the younger students in mine are getting a little…unsettled?"

The room that went quiet very suddenly.

"I mean, the muggleborn students are worried about their families getting targeted and the purebloods and half-bloods are worried that their parents will be recruited which is just as bad. After what happened to Abby's family, everyone is even more on edge. The younger ones are having a lot of nightmares too." Celeste bit her lip.

Hermione turned her head slightly and glared across the desk at Tom.

"You bear it," Draco said, breaking his silence and sitting up. "There is nothing else to do."

"Yes there is," Hermione said before Tom could comment. She pushed her chair back and stood up. She paused and looked at them all. "You learn to fight, you find people to practice with and you do it as much as you can, because one day you will have to."

The prefects looked back at her silently.

Hermione tried to sound as confident as she could. She knew that if the older students despaired then the younger students would pick up on it. "Half of the adults in the Wizarding World, if not more, have given up. But we cannot give up. If we cannot win the next war, we must simply start planning for the one after. We have to be ready to fight for our freedom and our people - there has not been a dark wizard that has not been defeated at some point. So we wait, and we prepare, and, because this is still Hogwarts, we learn."

No one said anything when she finished but she saw some sitting up straighter and others lifting their chins a little higher. She risked a quick glance in Tom's direction; he was leaning back in the chair, staring up at her with one of his inscrutable expressions.

"And on that cheerful note, I think we're done here. See you all next week, same time." Draco stood up and waved his hand in dismissal. He walked over to where she was organizing her papers as the prefects filed out. "Need any help with that?"

"No, you go ahead," she said. She gave him a slight smile.

"Alright, see you at dinner," he said as he followed the others out. "And nice speech."

"You never give up, do you?" Tom asked when the portrait had shut and left them alone in the lounge.

She sighed. She had not expected that he would take the hint but had hoped for a more of a reprieve than a few hours. She sat, not looking at him. "That seems like a really bad idea," she said simply.

"You appear to be remarkably competent at your job."

"Oh thank you! Thank you!" Hermione did not look up as she penned addendums and notes on what had been discussed. She also started a list of things to review for next week.

"That was meant to be a compliment."

"No offense…well actually, with offense, a compliment from you means less than nothing."

"Even on your administrative skills?" He asked.

"Well as far as I know, you have no admiration of anyone but yourself. That means that your compliment is either meant as irony or as flattery to gain my trust. Either way it means less than nothing."

"Perhaps you simply do not know me well."

At that, Hermione raised her head to give him a quick, cold smile. "Something I am thankful for, I assure you."

"Draco Malfoy is an interesting character," he said after a period of silence.

"Yes, he's of the old and prestigious Malfoy pureblood-line." Hermione did not try to hide her derision. "Must be refreshing to be in the presence of a non-contaminated student," she said, not taking her eyes from her writing. She wanted to be done quickly so she could get down to dinner and hear Hogsmeade stories.

"Is there anything I can say that will not make you angry?" Tom asked. "I am just curious."

Hermione thought about it. "No, I don't think so," she said finally.

"I thought we called a truce when it came to the issue of blood."

"That was before you tried to kill me." She looked up and caught a strange expression on his face before he covered it.

"That was not personal."

"I don't know about you but when someone wants to kill me I consider it very personal." She turned back to her papers. She was almost finished and she desperately wanted this conversation to be over.

He did not speak for five minutes and she had repress the curiosity to look up. She finally did as she completed her work and found with surprise that he was now standing next to the fire, looking into it. If he was not going to say anything, she certainly was not about to invite conversation. She organized the sheets of paper and put them into the desk. Despite his seeming indifference, Draco did come here quite often to keep himself updated.

Grabbing her stuff and giving Tom one last look, she headed for the door. Just before she reached it, Tom appeared ahead of her. Hermione had to jerk herself to a stop in order to avoid walking into him.

"You are not going to permit me regain my body no matter the outcome of the war." It was a statement.

Hermione looked away, unable to lie when asked so directly, especially when the answer was obvious. "You and I are on different sides, fundamentally and morally. As such, there is a very high chance you and I will be facing each other someday soon." As much as she detested Tom Riddle and everything he stood for, she could not make herself look forward to his ultimate demise.

She turned back to him and forced a smile. "Perhaps on that day, it will not be personal." Something flittered across his well-schooled blank expression and her own emotions as well and made her add, "Or maybe it will."

He did not reply and merely looked at her. The firelight reflected off of his dark eyes and cast an eerie glow to his gaze. She could not see what he was thinking and did not want to look deeper, lest she be pulled in.

Hermione set herself and walked resolutely through him, feeling a slight pang of regret. She paused for a fraction of a second to regain her equilibrium and continued on towards the Great Hall.

"For what it's worth," he called out after her, causing her to turn and look back at him. "I'm glad that I did not manage to kill you. The world is more interesting with you in it." He gave her a humorless half-smile and disappeared.

Hermione spent most of Sunday cloistered in the library studying. Her shadow, as she's started to think of him, had been absent since the prefect meeting. She could not be sure if he retreated into his diary or was still watching invisibly. Hermione now made it a point to do all her changing in the bathroom.

She still thought about the Horcrux hidden in Hogwarts often. Hermione avoided being alone with Harry, Ron and Draco when she had the diary on her in case they wanted to speak about it. She decided that the best time to leave the Journal in her room unattended was when she knew where Draco and Ginny were. This naturally suggested the idea of including the younger Weasley girl in the Horcrux hunt, for if they could trust Draco, they could certainly trust her. Hermione had mentioned it to Harry who said he would talk to the red-head about it.

Hermione also considered others they could potentially bring into the search. They were running out of time and needed all the help they could get. Neville topped the list in Hermione's mind. She was hesitant to include Luna however. If Luna said the wrong word to the wrong person in one of her dazed states, it could tip Lord Voldemort off. It was critical that Lord Voldemort not realize what they were doing and took no action to protect or move the anchors of his soul.

In the meantime, while having the occasional comment bestowed by Tom Riddle was unpleasant. It was still bearable.

It was less than a day later before she was completely dissuaded of that thought.

Monday's classes ended with the dreaded Slytherin-Gryffindor DADA double period. After the death of Professor Snape, Dumbledore had secured the services of a Swedish dueling instructor. The man, perfectly aware of the curse on the job and the fates of various professors that had not intended to relinquish the position, would not accept a contract for longer than one year. Professor Oddmund, a name that the class had spent a good week snickering at, put a lot of stock into practical examples with student participation. Hermione did not know if spending so much of his classes having students duel each other was his personal style or something Dumbledore suggested. Either way, it was very good preparation for what was to come.

There was a rumor going around that a good portion of the midterm mark was going to be based on a team duel between the two houses in each DADA period. Hermione thought that it might get messy in certain classes if this was the truth – hers in particular.

Today, he spent the first half of the class showing them new spells and then pushed all the chairs and desks to the side of the room. Professor Oddmund did not seem to have a system of any kind for choosing students to pair up for his examples. Sometimes Slytherins got to duel Slytherins and Gryffindors dueled Gryffindors, and sometimes it was ugly.

He always deconstructed the match afterwards and pointed out what people did right and what people did wrong. It was a very novel way of teaching and Harry had not liked a DADA professor so much since Remus Lupin had taught them. Granted, the choices he had in between were Barty Crouch Jr., Umbridge, and Snape.

Hermione was not very surprised when she caught sight of Tom watching the duel and circling the participants to get a better angle. His eyes were bright and alert. She almost felt bad that he was concentrating more on her class than she was.

She herself sat on the Gryffindor side – the room was divided along the middle – with Ron, Harry and Neville. She also managed to catch Draco's eye occasionally. The pair dueling – Pansy and Zabini – were evenly matched, though Pansy managed to win with a well placed freezing charm. They were not quite as good as Hermione and Ron, but both were competent. Hermione found herself imagining what it would be like to fight them for real as she watched the duels take place. It certainly helped that Professor Oddmund pointed out weaknesses and strengths for them. Hermione had already fixed a lot of flaws in her technique since the start of the year.

"Malfoy. Weasley."

"Oh that's not going to be good," Harry said from beside her. Ron stood up with a determined expression and they both wished him good luck.

"Nope, not good at all," she laughed when he was out of earshot. She caught Draco's eye as he got into position and rolled her own. Hermione was not really concerned; both of them knew better than to seriously hurt each other, especially in class.

Their duel lasted five impressive minutes, neither gaining the upper hand. Hermione was glad to see that they both were incredibly restrained in their choice of spells. If one ventured into slightly darker magic, the other would no doubt quickly follow, but both seemed to be holding back – partly for her sake, Hermione knew.

Then Draco looked past Ron to the entrance of the room. He had such a startled and frightened expression that Hermione turned, as did most of the room. By the time Hermione looked back, the duel was over. Ron had, attention divided, looked to the side for a fraction of a second but it was enough for Draco's expelliarmus to disarm him and knock him a couple of meters back on his ass.

The Slytherins all burst out laughing as most of the Gryffindors shouted, outraged. Hermione stifled a laugh and stood up, concerned at Ron's response to Draco's trick. Draco himself had put away his wand and walked up to Ron, holding the red-head's wand with one hand and offering the other to help him up.

She held her breath for a moment as Ron, slightly red, snatched up his wand and stared at the offered hand. Then he sighed and took it.

"I guess I really should know better than to fall for that," he said when Draco had pulled him to his feet. "It could get me into a lot of trouble if I get distracted that easily." When our lives are on the line went unsaid.

And then Draco actually smiled at Ron. "If you ever get to the point where you're impervious to my dirty tricks, you'll be set." With a wink at Hermione, he returned to his chair.

Ron sat down and Hermione put her head on his shoulder as the professor launched into his analysis, ignoring the slightly worried look Lavender was shooting at her.

"Look on the bright side, at least we know Malfoy's acting has improved," Harry said as Professor Oddmund finished up by describing the exact point when Ron had lost the duel. "I'm impressed - there might be a career in there for him."

"Granger. Potter."

"Oh it's on," she said to her green-eyed best friend, unable to keep a straight face.

"It totally is, and you're going down." Harry stood and waved his wand extravagantly in her direction, making her laugh.

"Not if you're going to channel Professor Lockhart."

Harry gave her a light shove into her position, eyes dancing. He then performed the ridiculous over-the-top bow that Lockhart used to open his duel with Professor Snape in the second year.

Hermione cracked up and Harry waited for her to regain her composure.

Professor Oddmund twittered impatiently.

She set herself into her favorite dueling position and winked at Harry who winked back. She had not any expectations of winning all things considered. In their group, Harry was the one with the best reactions and best aim. To put it another way, Harry was a natural and Hermione just knew a lot of spells. And he had been practicing.

Distantly aware the Tom was somewhere, watching her and studying her weaknesses, she opened the duel. Harry deftly avoided the babbling curse and cast his disarming charm. Hermione resisted the desire to roll her eyes – he really needed to stop relying on old faithful.

After a dozen back and forth exchanges, Harry had placed Hermione firmly in a defensive position, not that she had expected anything else. Resigned to losing, she was still determined to hold out for as long as possible. She managed to deflect a handful more before she almost got nailed by a stupefy.

His next spell would hit her.

As Hermione braced herself, something odd happened. It felt like someone had slammed into her from behind, but she did not move. More importantly, she did not move even though she should have flinched – she wanted to flinch.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted.

She wanted to at least attempt to block it but she could not. And then her body threw itself to the side and into a roll.

"Stupefy!" she said. But it was not her, because Hermione did not tell her body to do any of those things. Panic rose and she wanted to scream but could not work her mouth or her vocal chords.

'Calm down!' It was Tom's voice but it was echoing in her head.

It all crashed together in an instant. He was controlling her, and fighting a rather nice duel with Harry as well. In the few seconds of shock after she realized what had happened, she was able to observe the duel she was fighting but could not influence. And lord, Tom was fast. The two of them fought like Aurors, and good ones at that.

'STOP IT!' she shouted in her mind once she had gathered her wits about her.

'If I do, you'll be defeated,' was the calm reply which seemed to be coming from behind her left ear.

'I don't care! GET OUT OF MY BODY!'

'No.'

If Hermione had been thinking about anything else besides fighting for her body back, she might have admired his ability to concentrate on a fight and hold another conversation at the same time. If she were panicking to any lesser degree, she would have realized, as she did later, that he was not using any spell that students before her had not already used.

But she was not thinking clearly. She just wanted control of her body back. 'STOP! Stop or I'll go and rip your bloody Journal to shreds! GET OUT!'

'As soon as the duel is over,' he said, now sounding slightly strained. The exchange of spells between Tom and Harry – which to the rest of the class looked like her and Harry – had increased in both speed and intensity.

But surprise and the sheer speed with which Tom cast his spells had thrown Harry off and he hesitated for a second.

'STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!' she shrieked inside her head.

"Deprimo!" Tom shouted. The wind that came from her wand and her hand blasted Harry across the room, throwing him against the blackboard. He fell on the ground, stunned.

As she finally regained control of her body, she became aware that almost everyone in the room was cheering. The Gryffindors were cheering at the display of magical ability and the Slytherins were cheering because she, or rather Tom, soundly defeated Harry in a duel.

She ran to Harry and felt at his head and torso for damage. Harry opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Nice job," he groaned. "What potions have you been drinking Hermione?"

"Oh my god, I'm sooo sorry Harry." She helped him to sit up and wrapped her arms around him. "It was just a fluke. Are you okay? Please say you're okay." She pulled back and looked him over.

He laughed, raising an arm to rub his head. "Chill 'Mione. I'm fine. A little bump, but fine."

"Oh thank goodness." She pointed her wand at his head and said "Episkey".

Harry put both hands on her shoulders. "Relax, I'm really okay. I appreciate the healing charm though."

Hermione closed her eyes in relief before she turned and opened them, searching for and finding her target in the room.

She heard Professor Oddment's praise of both of them but did not respond. Ron was now next to her as well and both her best friends were praising her ability with no small amount of surprise and pride in their tones.

"Blimey Hermione!" Ron said in awe.

But her eyes did not leave where Tom Riddle stood, see-through, in the middle of all the chaos. He looked slightly taken aback as he looked on her. Hermione did not exactly know what her expression looked like, but she knew it must not have been pleasant.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Draco stood, clapping but frowning as well. She shifted her gaze onto him. He was aware that something happened that he did not quite understand. His gaze followed her eye-line to the middle of the room and he looked even more confused at only seeing empty space.

His eyes flipped between her and where Tom stood, the cogs in his head turning. Then he muttered an oath and all but jumped back a number of steps, gaping at where Tom stood. He could not see the boy, but Hermione knew that now Draco knew.

She looked back at Tom with a sense of horror. All she could think about was that he could have used her to kill her best friend. And that could have been the end.

Her hand clenched around her wand in her sleeve.

From his expression it almost seemed as if he expected an altogether different reaction from her. But she did not care about figuring out why; all she could think of was getting the Basilisk fang Dumbledore let her keep from the bottom of her chest and protecting her friends from someone who was far too dangerous to have around.

A/N: Sorry about the cliff hanger but of course she's not going to kill him. This is a fluffy happy love story remember? And to clarify, Tom was joking about the random Ravenclaw girl. Like I said, he's broadening his range...although there was no reason he *had* to talk about girls with Hermione. See what I mean? He's not fully in control of his 17 year old boy instincts but he doesn't know it yet. Shhhhh. And no, I don't think Draco actually seduced Dumbledore tee-hee.

Man this chapter hurt. I re-plotted and re-wrote it a couple of times to get rid of as much suck as I can – it started off really, really bad. Next chapter – Tom's first short POV scene, Tom doing something good, Neville and Ginny joining in the Horcrux hunt, and Tom finding out about S.P.E.W. though not in that order. . And no, Ginny is definitely not fine. That'll become more apparent as we go but right now she's biding her time. For what you ask? It could be anything really *wink*.

"The world is more interesting with you in it" is a Hannibal Lecter line. I can't believe how many of you haven't watched that movie. Shame!

Keep reviewing please. Your reviews give me the power to keep writing. 3

Extra Review stuff: You guys have all been bringing up really interesting points and I'm trying to address as much as I can here. If you see something I'm trying that's not working or if you have a point to make about any of this or if you just like the story, review!

1. Someone anonymous (which is fine!) said that Hermione is a little 2-D and they would picture her more spiteful towards Tom. I know that when I write a heroine, especially if it's from her perspective, I tend to see her as kind of perfect. And while that does match up with movie-Hermione, we all know that book-Hermione is actually annoying at times. I'm trying but it's hard! I love her so much!

2. A couple of people have made comments about Europe in the middle ages and just how bad everything was as religions and powers were settling in. Certainly that would be a factor into why Salazar Slytherin would be against muggleborns. Tom Riddle however has been hurting muggles all his life and I think that he's arrogant enough to believe they could just be conquered. He might see them as a threat but he also might just see them as sheep.

3. Thanks to everyone who's been answering questions. As to what Tom Riddle is afraid of, the angle I'm going with for this story is the one that Katsheswims (and a few of you others) proposed – that he's afraid of being helpless and weak.

NOTE/UPDATE – SEPT 12, 2010 – This story is NOT actually on hiatus. It is being completely re-written with the thought and planning that it deserves. It will be released, on a weekly basis, after being completed, when HARRY POTTER 7 the movie comes out. i.e. the end of NOV 2010. I promise it'll have everything it has now, and more, and be better for it.