articcat, I'm glad you're coming along for the ride! Hope you like where I take this.

Welcome all who have followed this story already! Tell me what you think...what is Mr. Riddle up to? Please review!

"Ah, Miss Girard! Welcome to Hogwarts!"

If a young Albus Dumbledore with auburn hair was a shock, the sight of Horace Slughorn was somewhat comforting. Other than a slightly smaller belly and brown hair, he looked exactly the same as he had done in her time. Hermione smiled briefly, then scanned the classroom for an empty seat. There were none save one at the large table in the front of the classroom. All of her classmates had turned to gape at her, and Hermione resisted the urge to straighten her tie or skirt. She knew she was perfectly attired, and had even transfigured a plain hair clip to possess an eagle, its spread wings helping keep her hair somewhat tamed. It was a Ravenclaw/Slytherin class, a common pairing, she was to find out. She wordlessly slid onto the empty stool, not looking at the students to her right or left, her attention fixed on Professor Slughorn.

"Yes, excellent! Now, I believe we are all here…Belsby, you were almost late, young man! Get settled, get settled, and we begin!" Slughorn clapped his hands and a list of potions ingredients appeared on the board, and the professor turned expectantly toward his class. "Now, based on the ingredients alone, who can tell me what potion we will be brewing today?"

Hermione raised her hand, and from the corner of her eye she saw at least two more hands raised at her table. She refused to look around the room to see if any other students had raised their hands, but Slughorn didn't even look at the rest of the room. His attention was firmly fixed on her table, and Hermione realized that he probably had all of his best pupils at the front.

"Tom, Phineas, and Miss Girard! Well, let's see what Miss Girard can offer, eh, gentlemen?" Slughorn said, his eyes beady and curious as he waited for her to speak.

"Those are the ingredients for the Rano potion, Professor. Its effects include relief of itching from secondary boils after burning hexes. It is believed to be more effective than burn salves for that reason, although it incorporates star grass to relieve the pain of the burn as well." Hermione's voice was clear, and she ignored the pair of eyes she could feel staring at her from her left. The other boy, Phineas, was a Ravenclaw as well, but the disapproval of Tom Riddle was practically palpable.

"Very good, Miss Girard! Five points to Ravenclaw!"He paused and flicked his wand at the board, where the instructions for brewing the potion appeared. "We will be brewing this today to restock the Hogwarts apothecary. The properly brewed potion should be a pale green with a silver gloss. You will work alone this week, but starting next month you can expect to encounter some partner projects, including your year-end project! But enough of that for today—begin!"

Hermione stood and waited with the other students to retrieve her ingredients, noting that Riddle and several other Slytherins were accorded a place at the head of the line. Of course they were. She avoided looking at the Head Boy, and instead fixed her attention on her potion. She calmly diced ingredients, wordlessly repairing a small crack in her glass stirring rod before beginning. As the first part of the potion simmered, she prepared the star grass, using her knife to shred the tough grass lengthwise.

"The instructions clearly say to chop the grass, not shred it."

The voice was arrogant and intrusive, its owner in little doubt, and Hermione steeled herself not to react too negatively. The instructions in her text had been revised, and she had read the whole thing while on the run last year. It had been a way to pass the time, memorizing all the potions and their preparation.

"It works this way too," she said neutrally, and she heard a quiet snort of disapproval. She ignored him and continued her work, satisfied when the potion emitted a puff of silver-colored steam when she added the shredded grass. She was pretty sure she recognized that voice, but stole a quick glance between stirs to confirm it. Tom Riddle was indeed sitting next to her, taking the place that had formerly been occupied by a different boy. Hermione hadn't noticed as the cauldrons were being set up, but now she was acutely aware of his menacing presence. He was watching her, she was certain of it, but she kept her hand steady as she finished the thirty counter-clockwise stirs required after adding the star grass. Finished, she removed the stirring rod and turned up the heat on the potion. It should turn the pale green after three minutes of high heat. Peeking under her lashes, she saw that Riddle already had his flame up high. He worked fast, she would give him that.

Within ten minutes most students were cooling their potions, and Slughorn was walking around the room to check the colors in the cauldrons. He stopped at Tom's and she heard him say, "Excellent job as usual Tom! This will work quite well in the infirmary, capital!"

The professor then moved to look at Hermione's cauldron, which was exactly the right shade of pale green, with an almost iridescent silver shimmer on top. "I say, Miss Girard, that is stellar work! That is as good as you'd buy at a top notch private apothecary! Tell me, who was your Potions professor at Beauxbatons?"

Hermione beat around in her head for a name, and said, "Delacour, Professor. But my mother was quite an accomplished potion brewer, and she taught me a few things."

Slughorn beamed at her. "I'll say. Well, good job. You don't mind if I call you Hermione, do you?"

Hermione realized she was about to be collected to Slughorn's shelf, but nodded politely. "Not at all, Professor."

"Excellent, excellent!" Slughorn said, then moved on down the table.

"I've never heard of a Potions Master by the name of Delacour," Riddle said next to her, looking at her with a narrowed gaze.

"Would you know the names of every Potions Master?" Hermione retorted, determined not to let him upset her. If he knew of a weakness, he would slice her open like an overripe fruit. She had to be on her toes around him. It wasn't as if she hadn't the practice for it.

"No," he admitted, cocking his head as she met his eyes briefly, then returned to the job of ladling the potion into clean vials. Grateful to be done, Hermione joined the queue for the sink with her dirty cauldron and tools, keen to escape Tom Riddle's scrutiny.

The first few weeks of classes passed fairly placidly for Hermione. She earned herself a reputation, again, as being a very bright witch. She was taking Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Herbology, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Magical Theory, and Transfiguration. She flatly refused to take Household Charms, although practically every other girl in her year was in it. She knew this made her an oddity, a fact that was not helping her make friends among the girls in her house. It also did not help matters that there were only two other seventh year female Ravenclaws, neither of whom took Potions or Magical Theory.

She had started Care of Magical Creatures, but had soon realized that was a mistake. If she had thought Hagrid was reckless, Professor Kettleburn was ten times worse. He already had an artificial leg below his left knee, and he was also missing two fingers on his right hand. She was beginning to understand how Hagrid considered himself to be a cautious teacher. She was fortunately adept at shield charms, but a class dealing with a baby Norwegian Ridgeback dragon convinced her to speak to Professor Beery about dropping it. She had been one of the few in that class to avoid being burnt, again drawing Tom Riddle's attention, which just gave her added impetus to get out of the class. She had gotten into Magical Theory instead, a slight schedule change that moved her free period around. After Tom Riddle's inquisitive looks, she was working hard to give the appearance of a book smart witch who was less than capable with her wand. It was too dangerous to be the focus of Tom Riddle's curiosity.

Unfortunately for Hermione, Magical Theory was one of four combined Slytherin/Ravenclaw classes. In addition to Potions and Magical Theory, she was forced into Riddle's company in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. Thankfully her other classes were combined with Gryffindor, excepting Herbology which was with Hufflepuff. Apparently Slytherins and Gryffindors were unlikely to duel in the Herbology greenhouses for fear of Professor Beery's wrath. Hermione settled on blue ink for today, her quill at the ready as the Magical Theory professor, Roberto Cavallo, strode into the classroom.

"Censorship!"

The chalked word appeared on the board behind Professor Cavallo, and Hermione sat up straighter. This would be an interesting topic. It was one that was not discussed in the curriculum in her time, so her attention was instantly caught as the middle-aged professor began to talk about the Ministry's current censorship policies.

"Behind me is a list of books that have been or are now currently banned by the Ministry," Professor Cavallo began as minute, looping scrawls of book titles appeared on the blackboard behind him. "Today's class will focus on the arguments used to justify banning certain books from publication, removing them from circulation, or even going so far as to burn or otherwise destroy them."

Hermione and other students tried to peer around the professor to see the complete list of titles, but he was not ready to cede the floor to his students' curiosity. "Now, today's class time will be spent copying this list, then each of you will indicate on the board which books you have read, which books you have seen copies of, and which books you know to be banned today. After everyone has had an opportunity to mark the books, we will discuss the top three in each category. Begin."

The list was long, and Hermione was surprised to see some books that she had read on the board. Everyone in the class was busy copying the list, but Hermione noticed that Tom Riddle was already done and was going up to begin marking books. She restrained a snort—as if he would admit to how many of them he had probably read!

Hermione was finished copying herself soon after, and she, too, stood to begin marking the books which she had read, those she had seen, and those she knew to be banned. This last was quite tricky, as what was banned in her time was likely to not be the same. She opted to go slowly and follow her classmates' lead when it came to marking those which were banned.

"Reading banned books, Miss Girard? How shocking." Tom Riddle said it quietly from behind, and Hermione looked at him in surprise, then followed his gesture to see that The Monster Book of Monsters was being consistently marked as banned by her classmates. Shockingly, Visigoth Victule's Magical Spells & Curses was also marked as being banned in this time. It had been one of the texts which Severus Snape had required during DADA, so it was probably a bit dark, but nothing that in her opinion justified banning it.

"You wouldn't have much room to argue," Hermione retorted, somewhat unwisely, gesturing to the many books which Tom had indicated he had read.

"Ah, but that is a privilege of the Head Boy, Miss Girard. I have access to tomes that are off limits to the rest of Hogwarts' student population. I wonder, what is your excuse?"

Their tête a tête was interrupted by Professor Cavallo, who called an end to the markings and asked everyone to take their seats once again. He studied the board, then scanned the room with an air of satisfaction.

"I want you all to know that for some of these texts, merely admitting that you have read them is sufficient justification for questioning and possible imprisonment by the Ministry. I want you to think about the implications of that—if you simply read a book, you may well be thrown in jail. Now, as is my habit, we are going to have a conversation about this. I encourage you to speak up and readily share your opinions, as vivid debate is a requirement for good magical theory development. Who will start us off?"

An arrogant looking boy with nut brown hair raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Rosier, let's hear your thoughts."

"Well, sir, as we all know, there are some books which may harm you simply by you reading them. Books might possess enchantments and hidden, layered spells within the words on the page, so we cannot presume that a book is safe simply because it is 'only a book'."

"Very good point, Mr. Rosier," Professor Cavallo agreed with a nod of his head. "Anyone care to rebut Mr. Rosier's point?"

Hermione raised her hand, and began speaking at the professor's nod. "Well, sir, one presumes that the wizard or witch reading the book is prepared to deal with hidden spells, which is not an illogical assumption. Some of the books listed are written with runes or other ancient symbols, indicating that much study has to be undertaken before one could even attempt to read them, much less understand their content. Thus the authors of such books have protected the innocent, and the wizard or witch who engages in reading them is also well aware of the rationale behind the use of such ancient languages."

Professor Cavallo nodded, a spark in his eye. "Indeed, Miss Girard, you also make an excellent point. Anyone else?"

The dark haired boy from Potions who was in her house raised his hand.

"Mr. Longbottom?"

Hermione managed not to startle visibly on hearing the boy's surname, and forced herself to pay attention to what he was saying and not study his face for any resemblance to Neville.

"The practice of banning books typically involves the use of dangerous Dark magic or the misuse of spells which are best forgotten in the sands of time due to their deleterious effects on both the caster and the spell's object. Unfortunately, such practices are rarely completely effective, as the Ministry has no authority to search in individual homes, and once the notice of banning has gone up, many who own copies of the tomes will hide them away rather than see knowledge destroyed, no matter how destructive such knowledge may be."

Tom Riddle raised his hand, and the atmosphere of the class seemed to electrify as the professor nodded for him to speak. "It is a fallacy that it is possible to destroy knowledge, which is what the practice of banning or destroying books attempts to do. Witches and wizards who possess the knowledge contained in some books will always exist, and thus it is a futile exercise. The Ministry of Magic would do better to teach how to counteract the effects of Dark magic which might reside in banned books, or focus their efforts on contriving means to do so."

Hermione raised her hand again. "But surely you acknowledge that not all Dark magic has a counter-spell. As part of their charge to protect the wizarding world, is it not incumbent on them to seek to contain Dark spells that might wreak catastrophic disaster on the wizarding community?"

"Who determines what is 'catastrophic', Miss Girard?" Tom replied quickly. "Are you aware of the origins of most so-called 'Dark' spells? They exist as a form of self-protection, from a time when unscrupulous wizards and witches did not hesitate to take what did not belong to them, or punish those who opposed them. Many Dark spells were invented as a means of self-defense against those whose magical might was greater—a way to even the field, so to speak."

"But such spells could also be used by those who are more magically talented, and they could wreak unknown havoc. We need only look to Europe today to see that is the case," Hermione replied, her innate sense of justice getting the better of her.

"Ah, but Miss Girard, the wizard of whom you speak has many allies. Thus, it is not the might of one wizard alone, but rather, the emergence of an entirely new philosophy. Are you saying that such philosophical debates should be stifled before they have a full hearing in the court of public opinion?"

Tom Riddle's eyes were glittering and Hermione felt herself to have gone too far. Fortunately Professor Cavallo chose to speak up and interrupt their volleys.

"It is hardly unreasonable to expect that new ideas will have their chance for discussion," the professor said reasonably with a nod to Tom, "Likewise it is not unreasonable to expect that the Ministry will seek to limit the effects from spells which are damaging and have no known counterspells. Now, what I find most fascinating here is that all of you have read at least one banned book. Tell me, where did you encounter these tomes?"

The classroom discussion filtered away to the merits of home libraries and the presence of hidden libraries, but Hermione remained uneasy. She felt Tom Riddle's gaze on her for the rest of class.

"Penny for your thoughts," Phineas Longbottom whispered as he slid into the seat across from her in the library a week later.

Hermione had been gazing off into nothing. She had been thinking about Harry and Ron, wondering what happened to them both. She kept telling herself it was worthless to dwell on it, but her heart still ached. She had met with Professor Dumbledore yesterday, and he had informed her in his quietly settling way that she should be prepared to spend some time here. His words came back to her mind easily: 'It will not be easy to contact all who may have knowledge of this type of magic, my dear. While I hold firm in the belief that we will get you back to when you belong, it will likely take some months.'

The quiet boy's voice snapped her back to her current reality. It was ironic that the boy before her was Neville Longbottom's grandfather, since Neville was so disastrously inept at Potions and Phineas was beautifully talented at it.

"Oh, I was thinking about the Arithmancy assignment that is due next week," Hermione lied. "I'm not sure I have the last set of equations correct."

"We can work on it together if you like," Phineas offered, and Hermione accepted. It was pleasant to have a housemate who was interested in doing his homework ahead of time. It made a welcome change from Gryffindor, that was for sure. The Ravenclaws were a studious bunch, and the only time help was sought in the common room was when a younger student was dealing with a particularly tricky problem and asked an older student for some guidance. No one expected to simply be given an answer.

In a slightly more removed part of the library, Tom Riddle was holding court over some fellow Slytherins. He sat where he could keep an eye on Miss Hermione Girard. The witch was a puzzle to him, extremely intelligent yet seemingly not interested in the more common fluff that ninety nine percent of girls her age were interested in. He had not once heard her discuss any marriage prospects, for instance, and that was hardly all the other girls who were soon to graduate could talk about. And she was amazingly proficient in Potions, more so than any other witch he knew, and incredibly book smart in DADA, even if she fumbled in practices. Even Professor Merrythought seemed puzzled by that.

He wondered again about the mysterious circumstances surrounding her arrival. It had been circulated that her parents were dead, murdered in some rampage of Grindelwald's, but she didn't act like a freshly bereaved girl. No, this was a girl who was used to taking care of herself, and he bet she'd been doing so for a while. And there was the question of her warmth toward Dumbledore, which didn't appear to be reciprocated. You'd have to be blind not to notice how they were supposedly related, but Dumbledore only paid attention to her in Transfiguration. No, there was more going on, he was sure of it.

It helped that he had been the one to find her, all bloodied and unconscious, the small but lethal looking dagger pinning a curiously blank piece of parchment to her shoulder. He had not managed to make the parchment reveal its contents yet, but he was certain he would manage it soon. He was definitely not giving up—his blood applied to it had revealed nothing, but there was a smidge of what appeared, on close inspection, to be handwriting, part of a cursive loop. Currently Tom was assuming it was because Miss Girard's blood had touched it…and that was very interesting indeed. He merely had to decide how badly he wanted to know her secrets, and the best way to ferret them out of her. It was only because he hadn't figured that part out yet that he hadn't made a move. He simply…watched.

"I don't see how you went from here to here, Hermione," Phineas said, and Hermione happily explained, pleased that Phineas followed her logic easily. It had been a bit like pulling teeth to work on homework with Ron or Harry.

"Well, if Swainswick would only teach it that way I'm sure everyone would get it instantly," Phineas complimented her, causing a flush of color to come to Hermione's cheeks. She laughed, while across the library Tom sat back in his chair. I wonder…he mused, ignoring the prattle of his followers as they packed up their bookbags. He thought he might have hit upon a successful strategy for dealing with Miss Girard.