Hermione woke up in a cloud of disorientation. She had decided to make it a habit to sleep with her watch on so that she could easily check the time. She did so now. Four AM. She groaned. Why can't I sleep anymore?

She laid back and attempted to return to her dreams. She was unsuccessful. She laid there for what felt like an hour. She suddenly had a brilliant idea.

Harry and Ron are training at the ministry, they'll have access to loads of experts and information. Maybe they'll know something about Tom or what's going on.

She crawled to the end of her bed and drew the curtains back slightly. Darkness enveloped her and she could hear all the usual noises that her dorm mates made during their sleep. She had made a habit of sleeping with her wand as well. She drew it and whispered a quick 'lumps'. She reached down and dug through her bag before producing parchment, a quill, and a book for which to write on.

She scrambled back to sit against the headboard of her bed. She gripped her wand in her left hand and scribbled sleepily with her right.

Harry and Ron,

I've come across a mysterious object. I've tried to test it for magic, but all the test came up negative. It is a journal, and inside it is locked the memory of a certain boy named Tom Riddle. If that name is somewhat familiar to you, he is seventeen, he is a Slytherin, and he has dark hair and very dashing gray eyes. (Dashing? Hermione suddenly realized her word choice and scratched it out hastily.) Tom visits me in my sleep. He shows me his various memories. I think he was alive during the 1940s. Also, I find that I am unable to sleep well once I have encountered Tom in my sleep.

Any information would be greatly appreciated.

Hermione

She suddenly felt very drowsy. She tossed the letter and writing supplies aside and laid back. She fell asleep almost instantly.

Bellatrix was upon her. Her face was merely inches from Hermione's. Hermione could feel her rancid breath upon her face. She squirmed and Bellatrix cackled. Hermione felt a piercing sensation in her wrist and she turned to look. Bellatrix was innately carving an m into her flesh.

Hermione cried out, but this only made Bellatrix laugh even more. She continued to rake her knife against Hermione's pale flesh. She could feel tears stinging in her eyes but she couldn't allow them to fall. She didn't want Bellatrix to think her weak. Instead she bit her lower lip and watched her captor's progress.

m

u

d

b

l

o

o

d

Hermione turned to look away. It was too painful. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. She would have to bear the mark now. She would be stuck with the reminder of her blood status for the rest of her life. Each time she would look down it would be there, cackling at her. Reminding her of this misery and shame.

x~x~x~x~x~x

Hermione's eyes flashed open. She could feel the sweat sticking to her and she sat up. Her head throbbed and she could feel a dull pain fading from her wrist. She looked down at it and traced the letters there. She threw the curtains back angrily and was almost blinded by the sunlight that awaited her.

She remembered the letter she had written last night and decided to go to the owlery today and send it. However, it wasn't where she had discarded it last night. She ruffled through her sheets, threw open the drawers of her bedside table, and nearly emptied her trunk trying to look for it.

Maybe I had only dreamt that I had written the letter. she thought. But it had felt so real, there was no way that it had only happened in her head.

How would you explain Tom then? she reminded herself. She tried to sell herself a weak explanation about a house elf finding it in the middle of the night, confusing it for rubbish, and throwing it out. She got dressed quickly and went down t the Great hall. She had a busy Sunday planned for herself. It included all her usual activities like studying and reading, but it also continued trying to find some sort of explanation.

She entered the Great hall at the same moment as the owls. They swooped down from the windows high upon the walls and dropped various letters and parcels in front of the student body below.

Hermione took a seat at the Gryffindor table. She wasn't feeling very hungry so she simply grabbed a piece of toast and lathered it with margarine. The owls left the hall from the way they came and Hermione felt a small sinking feeling in her heart.

Don't be silly, she scolded herself. They wouldn't have replied yet.

x~x~x~x~x~x

Her day would have been productive if she had found an answer to the Riddle that was plaguing her. She had, however, managed to finish her school work and catch up on a bit of reading. She lay back against her pillow and let the darkness roll over her. She immediately felt sleep dragging on her and she wondered for the split second between consciousness and subconsciousness whether she was making the right decision. Was getting closer to Tom really what she needed right now?

She was in a very recognizable room that would have been comforting to her if it had not been filled with a sizable crowd of people. The boys were dressed in fine dress robes of deep blue, dark green, gray, or black. The girls were dressed in gowns that almost reached the floor. She was at a Slug Club party. It was much like they had been in her time, although everything seemed much more glamorous.

Suddenly she felt someone at her arm and she looked up only to lock eyes with the boy who had invited her. He smiled and she could see his pupils seeping into the space reserved for his irises. She returned his smile, almost naturally. "You look stunning," he said, only loud enough for her to hear.

She looked down and noticed her own gown for the first time. It was a shade of purple that was so dark it was almost black. She noted how it accentuated her figure perfectly. She turned her attention back to Tom and took him in. She couldn't help but appreciate how handsome he looked in a pair of dress robes.

Just then a group of live musicians began to play a very swingy jazz number and many of the couples around them began to move toward the dance floor in front of the small stage that was set up.

Tom looked at her and smirked. "I don't dance," Hermione said firmly.

"Neither do I," Tom said slyly. His hand was at her lower back and he was guiding her gently into the crowd.

"No, Tom. Honestly, I'd rather not embarrass myself," Hermione insisted, trying to squirm away.

Tom took her hand in his, entwining his fingers in between hers. He moved closer to her, so close that she could smell the distinct scent of cologne that he radiated. She was paralyzed. "Don't worry," he soothed, "Just…go with it."

And with that they were off. They jived quickly with the beat and Tom had the nerve to dip her on more than one occasion. She was livid, and embarrassed…

but she was also having a pretty good time.

She laughed suddenly, finding the entire situation completely ridiculous. There was no need to be embarrassed. This was only happening in her subconscious and the only witness to it has been dead for the past fifty years.

Tom's eyes glittered as he took in the sight of Hermione truly enjoying herself. The number finished and many of the couples retreated from the floor. Hermione and Tom spent the evening laughing, eating various sorts of finger food, and drinking a little too much fire whiskey.

The night closed with a particularly sad song which found Tom and Hermione swaying drowsily on the dance floor. Many of the other students had left for the night. By now there were only a handful of couples left. Hermione's head rested against Tom's chest and his head was bowed over hers. She could feel his breath tickling against her scalp and his heartbeat against her ear. It was still odd to her that he even had a heartbeat, but she was unable to wonder further because she was trapped in a sort of drunken fog.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?" Hermione slurred.

Tom chucked, "For this. For coming here, and.."

"And what?"

"And making me feel so alive." he finished.

Hermione pulled away from him and studied his face. There was pain glittering in his eyes that threatened to leak in the form of tears. She smiled reassuringly and he did his best to return that smile.

She hated seeing him sad, especially after seeing him so happy. She placed a hand on either side of his face and without thinking, she kissed him. It was gentle and pleading, as if to say, please don't hurt any longer.

He was paralyzed at first, but quickly began to return the kiss. She could feel it. She could sense everything around her blurring. She tried to fight it. She tried to stay in the moment with this lost, broken, intelligent, and tender boy. But she was not strong enough.

Her eyes snapped open and she was left to reflect on what had just happened to her.

Hey! Yup. So goes another chapter of this story.

Thank you all for keeping with it and reviewing and just being so damn lovely