A/N: Hello, all! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.
I also hope you will review and let me know what you think, what you like and don't like. I cherished each of the reviews from the last chapter!
This chapter is not as fluffy as the last one, but is still pretty fluffy, no lie. The fic will get darker as they get older and the plot will develop a bit more later on. For now, we're just seeing the gradual change of their relationship from good childhood friends, to perhaps more. (There's no perhaps about it. Lol) Sorry if there are a few typos, I rushed this and wanted to get it out. If they are too bad, I'll fix them later.
By the way, I don't own any of this.
September 19, 1940
Professor Horace Slughorn, newly appointed Head of Slytherin House after Mendallyn left two years ago, burst into the Potions classroom with a youthful exuberance that still surprised Hermione every time she encountered it. The drafty room sat as lifeless as its days under Snape's puritan thumb. Or would. Still Hermione had trouble thinking of events in the right tense.
The new Slytherin fifth year prefects sat together at a desk in the front, their fire already lit and ready for the potion-of-the-day's instructions. The bushy haired girl leaned over to her slightly taller partner with an evil smirk on her face, "Tom, did you really catch Puggy and Abraxas together last night on your rounds?"
The raven headed youth with the dashing smile kept his eye on the professor, but whispered back under his breath, "I always wondered why animals instinctively knew not to cross-breed. Now that I've witnessed the pug and the ferret snogging, I rather wish that instinct had passed to wizards."
His droll tone had the girl clutching her stomach, trying to hold in her chuckles. Finally they made eye contact and shared a special smile.
Good one. Think they heard?
I think so. I can feel Pug-Nut's self-righteousness from here. Serves them right for comparing you to a beaver. Your teeth were fixed months ago.
Hermione smirked at the thought he had placed in her head. Last year the two friends had focused all their energy into mastering the Legilimency and Occlumency they had been practicing for years. Though Hermione felt certain she had grasped it before, she still had no idea if she was doing it right and thus had to wait for Tom to catch up in Legilimency in order to test her new skills.
She really had quite lucked out that her shields were so well-formed at first, because otherwise Tom would have been privy to all her secrets. As it is now, the two could block their minds entirely without concentrating, and even had the discipline to hide all their thoughts but one. Thus when one sensed the change in the others' mind, they would delve into the others' psyche to read the thought presented to them. It was quite a bit more convenient than writing notes, but harder to concentrate on multi-tasking, so they normally didn't communicate this way during class.
Students with less drive and ambition would surely have spent all class talking, but Tom paid strict and careful attention, and Hermione respected Tom's need to learn. Luckily through their innovative spin on Legilimency, one could sense when the other wanted to share a thought. Perhaps it was made easier via the linking pendants they each still wore, but regardless, all Hermione's secrets were now safe inside her mind.
All her secrets including the Wizard's Oath she had been forced to make with Dumbledore in which she wouldn't reveal anything of Tom's future to him until his eighteenth birthday.
While Hermione now trusted Tom with her life as well as her own personal secrets, her friendship did not trump Dumbledore's custody of him—in both worlds. Therefore, she had to wait even past his Wizarding coming-of-age until he became a man in the non-magical world as well to tell him how she came to be here. She both dreaded and anticipated that day. She absolutely hated lying to him, but she feared possible rejection when he found out the truth. What if he never wants to see me again? He's all I have in this world.
Until then, though, her hands were quite tied. Perhaps he was too young to know anyway. Hermione certainly did not want to add to his burden. Life was already tough enough to an orphaned half-blooded misunderstood boy in the Slytherin Kingdom. She wouldn't have told him when he was twelve anyway, but Dumbledore had finally caught on about their closeness and forced her hand.
Old Uncle Albus sure didn't trust her in this time as much as he did in the other. Perhaps her being in Slytherin in this time added in to the equation. Perhaps his natural suspicion against her dear friend Tom further inflamed his mistrust of her now.
Snapping back to the present, Hermione realized that everyone had started moving to the storage cabinet for ingredients. She snuck a peek over to Tom's open book to see what potion they were on, embarrassed to be caught wool-gathering. Tom didn't see her as he had started for the cabinet himself, leaving her to set up as per their usual routine.
The Amible Potion? But that's not taught at Hogwarts, especially in only the fifth year. It's a N.E.W.T. level potion, not an O.W.L. level.
"I see you've finally caught back up to reality." Hermione looked up startled. Tom had already gathered the ingredients and was now smiling at her with amusement written all over his face.
Giving up pretending, as she had obviously been caught, Hermione replied, "Yes. I drifted away in my thoughts. Why don't you rub it in a little more that you caught me, huh?"
He just laughed. "I can always tell when you aren't in the present."
"Oh yeah? And why do you never bring me out of my reveries?"
Suddenly his face turned serious and he answered her a bit matter of factly, "Because you always look so utterly hopeless, and I have no idea how to make it better for you."
Her heart hammered under her shirt. "Tom. You have no idea how much just your presence makes things better and easier." She willed him with her eyes to understand, and just as she knew would happen, he did.
"Don't think that this means that I am blind, Hermione. I have many questions that you have not answered fully. There are some things that do not add up and while I turn a blind eye, I am not unaware of them." Hermione felt heat creep up her neck, just as it always did when he came too close to the truth of her time traveling. Several times he had confronted her about discrepancies in her story, mistakes she had made in the time line, her talk of products that hadn't been invented yet. Each time she stammered out a half-hearted excuse and practically begged him to drop it, that one day she would explain.
He continued, still quietly enough to ensure that the busy couples around them could not hear. "I know how much you hate deceiving me, that's one of the reasons you are so bad at it. And that is the only reason I have let you get away with it, because I know that if you aren't telling me, that you cannot tell me. One day you will make me understand, I have faith in that."
"You are quite amazing, Tom Riddle. Did you know that?"
He smiled wryly, "It has been said before. I did not deny it then, and I won't now." She cocked an eyebrow, going for a sardonic look she had been practicing. By the look in Tom's eyes, she hadn't quite succeeded yet. Switching back to a serious mode, and taking what he had revealed to her to heart, she spoke, choosing her words carefully.
"I will honor your request. On your eighteenth birthday, I will explain all."
"My eighteenth? Why so long?"
"It will be revealed then. Just, just please know that I with hold-this completely against my will. I am magically bound to not tell you until then. If I had it my way, you would already know. Please trust me."
He nodded slowly, finishing up their unexpected moment.
Clearing his throat and looking down to their desk, he got back into business mode. "Alright, for the Amible Potion we need to add the Lacewings before the Bicorn horn, but after we've crushed the Doxy droppings."
She let him get to it, after all, he was the one who needed to learn this stuff, she was just reviewing before the O.W.L.s, which she could have passed the instant she awoke in the Room of Requirement all those years ago.
While Tom worked, she regarded him clinically. In the past four years he had shot up like a firecracker on New Year's. He was now fifteen and an even six foot tall, the third tallest in their year.
Besides that, he had completely avoided spots. Hermione found this dreadfully unfair and held it against him completely. Murder, Plotting to take over the world and splitting his own soul she could forgive with all of the love in her heart, but his blemish free face was just too far. Silently seething, she forced herself to focus on something else. His hands. She vaguely remembered Harry talking about Voldemort's freakishly long fingers. Well Tom had them too. But in the more human form, they were divine. She felt like any second he would conjure up a piano and just start going to town.
The thought of Tom in a fancy tuxedo and playing a jazz number in a small club somewhere made her giggle. That was so not his scene. He would never be caught dead bearing his heart and soul for strangers, no, Tom was way too shy and reserved for that. He could play the part of the outgoing teenager well, sure. But it was all an act, none of what he said or did was actually him. So in that way, he was okay with it. But to freely give away his own feelings and emotions was, to him, like allowing people to shoot curses at him without putting up a decent defense.
It was still a hassle getting him to open up at all, and still he could sometimes only do it through their mind link so that he didn't have to say the words. Unfortunately, this only got worse as he aged. His eleven-year-old self had opened up much more easily, like when he confessed about his heritage.
His older and much more handsome (according to the girls of Hogwarts ages thirteen and up) self could barely acknowledge when he had bouts of wistfulness—wishing his childhood had been filled with loving parents who took him to the Magical Menagerie and Diagon Ally. Those didn't happen often, but when they did Hermione only noticed because he stuck closer to her than normal, feeding off her love for him. During those times he just had to be around someone that he knew without a doubt cared.
He would invent reasons for them to stay together for the entire day, which was not completely out of the realm of possibility, but normally she could at least walk to the loo by herself! She had gotten much better at adapting to his behavior, recognizing the signs. During those few days she would sit with him in the Slytherin Common Room and get all her homework done for the week, or they would practice Occlumency.
Still, sometimes she just needed some alone time. She loved Tom to abandon, but occasionally she had to just relax in solitary peace. He understood that, and often felt the same. So for about one day out of the week they would separate completely, excepting meals and classes, whereupon they would re-charge their batteries and bask in their individuality.
Tom would spend his days outside, unless it was raining. He could handle heat and snow, but loathed rain. Hermione would hunker down in the Room of Requirement, something still secret from the rest of the school but Tom.
Finally Tom finished the first half of the potion. It had to just simmer for fifteen minutes before the newt claws could be added.
From the desk behind them, Tom and Hermione heard Puggy ask Abraxas, "What exactly is this potion supposed to do again?"
Hermione smiled to herself when she saw that their potion was already the wrong color, a mustard yellow. She decided to take pity on the poor little dog-faced girl and explain, "The Amible Potion determines the person that will best understand the brewer as a person. The very last stage of the brewing process dictates that a hair be added, from that the potion will show the face of the person most likely to be compatible with them in friendship within a square mile of the cauldron. On top of that, the rest of the potion turns a color. The color represents how close the two can become. It is not a determinate of the relationship now, but rather the potential or ideal bond."
"Oh, very good Miss. Dumbledore!" Slughorn interrupted her, "So you were paying attention. I'll never underestimate you again, girl. Now I'm curious to see what results you will get, we'll test yours first."
"Great, Professor Slughorn. I can't wait." She said feebly, feeling like the joke was on her.
Tom looked torn between amusement and anger. She looked to him and asked him quietly, "Hey, are you mad that you won't get to test the potion?"
"No." He sighed, "I already know it would show your face anyway, so there's really no point in wasting ingredients on me."
"But I know it will show your face too, so I could say the same thing."
"Ah but you choose to isolate yourself with me. Besides, it's your birthday, is it not? Birthday girl gets to test the potion."
"Humph. I rather thought you forgot."
"How could I ever forget your birthday? I only have one friend, and one birthday stat to remember. I was just going to keep it to myself until tonight when I gave you your presents and we met up in the Room of Requirement like we do for all birthdays."
"Presents? As in multiple? Tom, you didn't have to—"
"Ah, but I already did, so you can't berate me now!" He laughed. She was actually upset her got her more than one present. "You are such a backwards girl."
"A backwards girl? Excuse me!"
"No, well, what I meant was—"
"Oh save it, Mr. Manly. Backwards girl can see that the fifteen minutes are up and we have more ingredients to add." She rolled her eyes at him playfully and he knew he was forgiven.
When the potion was finished, well ahead of everyone else of course, Tom had Slughorn come over to watch the results. Hermione carefully selected a hair, whimpered a little as she plucked it from her head, and added it to the potion.
Stirring it seven times clock-wise, she waited for the tell-tale signs. Slowly a caricature of a face started to materialize. After a good ten seconds, the face solidified into an accurate rendering of Tom's own countenance. They made eye contact over the cauldron and smiled. Just a confirmation.
Slughorn, also not surprised, started on another of his garrulous rants about his top two students and how perfect it was that they were friends. He stopped mid sentence, though, when he took a closer look at the potion.
The rest of the potion, behind Tom's glamorous face, had turned a golden white, similar in look to the Felix Felicis. Finding that odd, Hermione figured it must be one of the higher colors of the spectrum of determining how close they could become.
Everyone knew that red meant romantic love, possible marriage, and green meant platonic friends. Some even knew that purple meant life-long friendship, but few knew that yellow, though not this exact shade, was the highest form of friendship there could be. Perhaps the gold indicated a combination of a few of the colors with yellow as its main base?
She asked Slughorn that question and he replied succinctly, though a little oddly, "Yes, my girl, you've hit the nail right on the head." He seemed to be far away in his thoughts, reminding Hermione a bit of that awe-struck look Tom occasionally had when he encountered something new in the Wizarding world. "Alright class, who's next?"
"Well that was... exactly as I suspected." Hermione said.
"Yeah, I know. I don't understand why he was so surprised though. I think everyone expected my face."
"If you think about it, he didn't act strangely until he saw the color. Maybe it's uncommon to combine the colors?"
"You're right. That's probably it."
He looked up then to see Slughorn at the desk next to him with Natasha Nott and Cygnus Black. Cygnus was just about to add the hair. Hermione noticed Tom looking at the color of the potion and watched the nuances of his face turn from his normal blank expression to all out panic.
"NO! DON'T ADD—!" But it was already done.
The cauldron exploded in a fiery hunk of goop. Knowing that he had not consciously thought about it, Hermione felt Tom reach over and pull her to the ground, throwing himself on top of her.
Debris flew across the room. Hermione could smell the smoke in the room and instantly became thirsty. She knew half the room was destroyed, but all she could think about was Tom's heavy body flattening her own. He was surprisingly warm, and his familiar sandalwood smell suddenly seemed more exotic for some reason. When did he get so big? It seemed like just yesterday he was that small under nourished boy. How could she not notice his change? She spent practically every second with him except two months in the summers when he went back to the orphanage and she went to Dumbledore's mansion alone.
His cheek brushed hers and she felt a mild scratchy sensation. He grew whiskers? He was only fifteen! This wasn't right. He couldn't be turning into a man this fast!
After what felt like hours but was only seconds, the room started to settle down, oblivious to Hermione's thoughts. Tom waited a few extra heartbeats, then started to move off of her. She missed his weight as soon as he left, but scolded herself for thinking that.
"You alright Hermione?" Tom asked her.
A little dazed, she responded, "Yes, I'm fine. How are you?"
"I might need to make a quick trip to the Infirmary, but I'll be alright."
"What? How are you hurt?"
"It's not a big deal, it's just my back."
"Turn around, let me see." She said in her maternal voice.
He turned and her heart clenched. There were big gaping holes in his robes where the fiery debris hit him and burned through his clothes. The skin was pink and irritated, in some places blood could be seen. Hermione was about to insist he go immediately to Madam Pomfrey, but Slughorn beat her to it.
"Students! Is anyone injured?"
"Tom is, Professor."
"Really, Professor, it's not a big deal. I just need a little burn salve."
"Nonsense boy. Miss Dumbledore will escort you to the Hospital Wing. Now go."
Hermione ignored Tom's half-serious glare and herded him out of the classroom. Twenty minutes later found them both in the Hospital Wing.
A young Madam Pomfrey, her first year as Hogwarts' Healer was the year before, treated Tom quickly and efficiently. When he had to remove his shirt, Hermione had to look away. The salve smelled like boiled cabbage and Tom told her via Legilimency that it felt like cottage cheese. She had to hide a smile at that.
Soon enough Tom was good as new, however, his robes needed to be repaired. Hermione took care of that with a flick of her wand. He nodded at her in thanks, and the two went back to the Potions classroom to pick up their stuff.
Professor Slughorn was just dismissing the rest of the class to their break before dinner when the duo arrived.
"Ah, Miss Dumbledore, Mr. Riddle. You have returned. I assumed everything was patched up adequately?"
Hermione could see the tension in Tom's jaw as he bit back the sarcastic witticism dying to burst forth. Instead, he looked to her and told her, Yeah because Madam Pomfrey is in the habit of allowing patients who are unhealthy to just leave. She smiled just enough to let him know she caught the comment and appreciated it.
Outwardly, the male prefect respectfully replied, "Yes, sir. Good as new. We just came by to grab our things."
A strange look came over Slughorn again, a look similar to the one Hermione saw earlier when he inspected their potion. Suddenly his mouth opened and spoke, though his face looked surprised at the words coming forth. "Mr. Riddle, please stay a moment. I've been meaning to have a talk with you."
Tom allowed the smallest hint of confusion mar his perfect face before it disappeared completely. "Of course, Professor." He turned to Hermione, "I guess I'll see you at dinner?"
"Actually, Mr. Riddle, I'd like you to eat dinner here with me while we have a discussion. You will see Miss. Dumbledore again in a little while."
Tom turned so that his back was to Slughorn, and begged her with his eyes not to leave him. She looked back at him and told him silently, Well it's not like I can do anything about it, now. Just buck up, and be a brave little boy about it. We can have a good laugh about it later. See you!
He shook his head at her, accepting his doom. Turning to meet her professor's eyes, she said aloud, "Oh sure. I'll just get started on some homework." She looked from Tom to Slughorn, not bothering to hide her confusion. Then she added, rather awkwardly, "Have a good...talk."
She left the room with her mind buzzing. What could Slughorn possibly be talking to Tom about? It can't be Slytherin business, because then I wouldn't have been excluded. Ah well, I'm sure he'll tell me when he returns and we'll have a good laugh over it.
When Tom returned, however, he acted...off. He met her eyes, by now learning that this was a tell sign for Hermione, and he still acted as normal for the most part. But when she asked about the meeting with Slughorn he winced. Or flinched. It was hard to tell because it was so subtle, and they are very similar. She knew that something was up from that one tremor.
"Oh hey, did you just get back?"
"Yes. Just walked in."
"Okay. Um, so what did he want to talk to you about?" There it was, the flinch.
"He just wanted to talk to me about the Slug Club, the horrible thing. Apparently he thinks I'm leadership material. I had to try very hard not to shudder."
Hmm. Tom does lack a conscience for many things, but he could never all-out lie to me. I'm guessing this is, at best, a half-truth. Probably just enough for him to be able to allow himself to tell me this, but definitely not the whole truth.
"Well that's strange." A brief look of relief passed over his features before he settled into his calm facade again. Deciding to leave it for now, she steered the conversation in a different direction. "So, would you like to start our homework now? I've only finished half of Flitwick's essay on Silencing Charms, and I'd like to finish it before—"
"No thank you. I find myself rather tired. Re-growing patches of skin and some muscle can do that to you. Plus I had to promise Pomfrey to get extra sleep. So, I'm just going to retire early tonight and catch up tomorrow. I bid you good night." He didn't even wait for her to return the sentiment, but started off for his dormitory at a little faster pace than he normally walked.
Feeling hurt that he had forgotten their birthday tradition, Hermione sighed deeply. Earlier he had promised that they would enjoy their time in the Room of Requirement just like they had been since his birthday (New Year's Eve) of their first year.
Tom could be pretty selfish, all teenagers could, but he had never stooped this low before. The Tom she knew wouldn't blow her off on her own birthday. Too hurt to be mad, she threw all her books back into her bag and made her own way up to the dormitories.
How could he? Slughorn must have said something to really put him off his rocker. It was hard enough having your very best friend desert you on your sweet sixteen (well, second sweet sixteen, so did it really matter as much?) but now she would have to keep her eyes peeled for dark activities, because Merlin knew she had no idea what was going through his brain. Thanks a lot, Professor.
Something had happened with Slughorn. What that was, Hermione didn't know, but if things hadn't returned to normal by the next morning, she would find out one way or another.
…...
The next morning things had not returned to normal, and sadly, part of the blame rested with Hermione. Tom came down as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn't just forgotten her birthday and their plans. He came down smiling and trying too hard to charm her and make her laugh.
When he realized that she was having none of it, he backed off.
It seemed to the rest of the school that the two best friends were having their first fight. Hermione, feeling betrayed by her best friend didn't want to be around him because he had hurt her feelings so horribly. Worse, he hadn't even realized what he did. Tom was still acting weird about whatever it was that Slughorn had talked to him about and for some reason was avoiding Hermione as much as she was him.
Although, the word 'avoiding' is a stretch. 'Avoiding' implies that the two in question didn't sit next to each other in every class, and next to each other in their unofficial assigned seats at meals. So while they couldn't physically avoid one another, they barely spoke. And when they did speak, their tones were short, clipped, and devoid of humor.
Neither took shots at the other, but both were so confused as to how this rift had come about and how to act around each other, that they mostly just refrained from speaking.
Everyone noticed, the teachers looked at them strangely when neither volunteered. Because when neither of them volunteered, no one else in the class was going to offer. The students were also thrown off by the behavior. Tom Riddle and Hermione Dumbledore were such a fixture of Hogwarts by now, that the two of them on the outs was like having the entire menu changed, the food was still there, but it wasn't the same.
A week went by of this behavior and once again Hermione and Tom found themselves in Slughorn's Potions class.
"Tom, would you collect the ingredients?" He didn't respond, he just went.
They communicated briefly and through non-verbal means. He would point to something and she would prepare it, then she would tap him when she was finished and ready to add it. They moved robotically, as if their personalities were gone and their bodies just kept going.
They finished early and just sat there. After a few awkward moments, Hermione opened a book and began reading up on Animagus transformations.
The rest of the class finished about fifteen minutes after them and Slughorn ended class after getting a flask from each partnership. As the class was departing, the professor called out, "Tom, m'boy, stick around for a second." Her best friend approached his desk cautiously, like it was the last place he wanted to be.
Great more Slughorn-Tom time. After this time, maybe we'll be bitter enemies. Again.
Hermione went off to do a bit more light reading of her Animagus book before going to dinner.
Tom arrived late to dinner, but he sat down in his usual seat just to her right. Hermione immediately noticed a difference in his attitude.
It was confirmed when he leaned over to her and asked her quietly, "Can we talk after dinner?"
She felt her brow furrow in puzzlement but she nodded quickly and finished up her dinner quickly. He ate so fast she thought he was going to choke. Soon enough they were both done, and Tom lead her out of the Great Hall with a hand on the small of her back. It was the most contact they'd had in a week, aside from her tappings in Potions earlier.
He steered her to the Room of Requirement, to her surprise. Leaving her standing by the door, he swept past it three times then went through the door. She followed him and gasped when she saw the room he created.
It was the exact same room she had conjured for his first birthday at Hogwarts, down to the exact detail. The fireplace was huge and was definitely the focal point of the room. The world's most comfortable rug sat in front of it, she knew, as it was the same one from before. It was like sitting on a cloud.
He looked pleased. "What's all this, Tom?"
His pleased look quickly turned sheepish. "I am a bloody moron."
"You won't see me arguing."
"Hermione, I am so sorry. I completely forgot about our plans to celebrate your birthday because I was so embarrassed about what Slughorn lectured me about."
"I knew that talk had something to do with it, but how could you completely forget my birthday? We had plans. You have never hurt my feelings like you did then." Something close to tears may or may not have but starting up in her eyes.
"I know. I was an ass that I didn't even realize it. I was so focused on myself and my own insecurity that I didn't even know how to interact with you."
"What? What could he have said to you that you wouldn't know how to talk to me?"
A look of utter horror came over Tom's face then. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh."
"Laugh? Why would I laugh?"
"Just, don't okay?"
"Well, I'm not making that promise. You are here to make this up to me remember?"
"Damn, I hate when you're right."
"I'm always right. And stop cussing."
"Bugger."
"Now you're just testing my patience. I could just go, you know." She turned to leave.
"No, stay. Stay. I'm sorry." He said, grabbing her on her shoulder and turning her around.
"Fine, now tell me."
"Okay." He paused, like he was mustering up the courage. Bloody Slytheirns. "Merlin this is so embarrassing."
"For fuck's sake Tom, just spit it out already!"
"HE GAVE ME 'THE TALK,' OKAY? I had to hear all about the bloody birds and the bees from SLUGHORN because he realized that my best friend is a girl and apparently we are very compatible. He told me he was concerned that one day, that said best friend, may wind up pregnant because my dirty muggle orphanage never taught me where fucking BABIES COME FROM!" He took a large breath and ran his hands through his wavy raven locks, trying to calm himself down.
Hermione desperately wanted to laugh. She knew she would later, but for now she wanted him to get through his confession.
"Suddenly he's all 'Tom, m'boy, you have to treat a lady right. And that Hermione, she's a real lady, alright.' I mean it was horrible. Not because he kept talking about you specifically, but because it was him talking about it at all. I'm a fifteen-year-old boy, you know, and I certainly think about that often, I mean, the boys in my dormitory talk. Puggy's gotten quite a reputation for herself, by the way. But he went into so much detail, Hermione. Like, explicit detail. Like, I was doing every Occlumency meditation technique we have found and I still couldn't block out the images." He paused again, gathering his thoughts. She let him, knowing that if she interrupted he would lose steam and possibly give up. Plus, as far as apologies go, this one was getting pretty entertaining.
"So then he let me go after all that, and he did talk to me about the Slug Club too, that wasn't a lie. Anyway, after all that and him putting those images about treating you right in my mind and all that, and I immediately run into you. And I dunno, it was just like too much. All I could think about was that you have... lady parts... and then all I could think about was Slughorn explaining lady parts, and I just couldn't take it. Through all that I managed to forget our birthday plans, and I apologize a thousand times." He had quite run out of breath by the end of his diatribe, and as he sat there trying to regain a little dignity, Hermione really tried not to laugh.
Her amusement won out though and she began to laugh in earnest. In between giggles she tried to apologize, "I'm so..." giggle, "sorry, I just..." giggle, "can't help it!" Giggle, giggle, SNORT, giggle. "Admit it, it's a little funny."
"It is not. It was horrendous and—"
"And you let Slughorn come between our friendship because you never thought of the differences between boys and girls."
Accepting defeat, he finally started to laugh too. They both laughed until they wept. Hermione had fallen to the ground in front of the fireplace, shaking with mirth.
"I can't believe our first and only fight has been over something as ridiculous as this." She said as she started to regain control over her body.
"Yes, well, to be honest, it wasn't something they really explained at the orphanage. So it kinda took me by surprise. I mean, I knew about the mechanics, I guess, but not about the monthlies, and all that."
"Tom Riddle just said the word 'monthlies,' I think I might die of laughing too much!"
"That's not a bad way to go." he replied, and re-joined her in laughter, his baritone laugh mixing harmoniously with her bell-like voice.
A few moments later they had calmed again and both were seated on the rug in front of the fire. "Shall we start the tradition, now, oh old one?"
Hermione attempted her raised eyebrow look again. Still not effective. Dang. "I'm three months older than you, kiddo. And yes, presents please! And then you can tell me all the things you love and hate about me." Their tradition went that five sincere compliments, five silly compliments, and one annoyance were told to the birthday boy/girl in no particular order. It started on Tom's first birthday at Hogwarts, and this was the first time tradition had been dropped since then.
Things are back on track, now, thought Hermione, as she lay next to her best friend in the universe, in either time. After his rambling of eleven things, he got around to giving her her presents.
This year Tom had gotten her a rare book about Animagus Transformations, this year's secret project for them, and a small leather-bound diary. Hermione gasped. This was the exact diary that he would have turned into a horcrux, except that his name was not on it, but hers.
Hermione J. Dumbledore 1940
Tears came unwanted to her eyes, and Hermione fought hard to fend them off. She was really doing it. She was really saving the world from Voldemort. She was really saving him.