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"We are now nearing the point in the term where we will begin some longer term brewing," Professor Slughorn said, looking fondly at his best students at the top table. "Of course, I expect you to complete other potions in the interim as well, but a few of these longer term potions will require you to work with a partner."
Hermione forcibly restrained an audible groan from passing her lips. After the disaster that was the partners assignment in DADA, Hermione had little hope of evading the dark menace currently seated next to her in the Potions classroom.
"I've taken the liberty of pairing you up according to capabilities…" Professor Slughorn said, with a sly wink to Tom, "…as some of the projects are more challenging, and require additional work outside of class time! I expect you all," Slughorn surveyed the entire classroom, taking in all of his students, "to do your best. Now, the partners…"
Hermione refused to look to her left, instead focusing her attention on the rest of their table mates. Phineas would be an excellent partner, but Slughorn would probably break up housemates. Abraxas was such a prat, Evan would be fine, Granthus Gibbon was inept but she could manage…Hermione was pulled from her wildly wishful thinking as the number of remaining classmates dwindled by the minute Finally she heard her name being called by Professor Slughorn.
"Ah, Miss Girard! Yes, I have paired you with Mr. Riddle," Slughorn said as he stopped by the two of them and laid a hand on each of their shoulders. "Convenient, eh? Well, I am quite looking forward to the potions you two will prepare! Where does that leave us? Oh yes, Mr. Gibbon…"
Hermione drowned out the few remaining pairs, aware that again, Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, had outmaneuvered her.
"Between this class and Defense Against the Dark Arts, I imagine we will be spending a lot of time together, Hermione," Tom said innocently, unpacking his potions supplies with an indolent flick of his wand as he watched her.
"Don't think I don't know that you had something to do with this," she whispered to him, not even bothering to look at him as she set her stirring rod and silver knife on the table. "I don't know what you think you're accomplishing, but I won't spend a single second longer than necessary in your company."
"That will do nicely," he whispered in her ear, first brushing her hair away from it in a gesture that doubtless the rest of the class interpreted as affectionate. "For now."
"Now!" Slughorn clapped his hands at the front of the classroom, and Tom let his hand fall from Hermione's shoulder and paid attention to the professor. It had been easy to lead Slughorn toward Hermione as his potions partner for the rest of the year, but it remained to be seen if he had taken Tom's suggestion for their first joint project.
"The scrolls on your desks will tell you which potion you will be working on for your first joint project! Today will be spent doing research, and Friday will be a library session. All of these potions have multiple recipes, and it will be your task to sort out the best one to accomplish the highest effect. If you decide to combine recipes, you must receive my approval for it before beginning to brew. Today use your texts as references and decide how you would like to split the work. Begin!"
Tom unrolled their scroll to reveal the name of the first potion they had to make: Angel's Trumpet.
"No one knows what this potion does," Hermione protested, but Tom only looked at her.
"Surely you don't think that Professor Slughorn would assign an unknown potion. Of course he knows what it does."
"I suppose you're going to tell me next that you know as well," Hermione scoffed, clearly skeptical.
"As a matter of fact, I do." Tom raised his hand and Professor Slughorn came over.
"Yes, Tom?"
"Professor, I wonder if Miss Girard and I may be excused to finish this period in the library. As you know, our potion is not in any of the texts, and Miss Girard is curious as to what it does."
"Oh ho, a potion you don't know Miss Girard? Well, I see I have chosen well for your first assignment! Yes, of course that will be fine. You are excused to the library, Mr. Riddle and Miss Girard! Here is your pass," Professor Slughorn said, flicking his wand toward his desk such that a paper zoomed to Tom.
"Thank you sir," Tom said politely, and Hermione did the same, although she cast a mulish look at Tom as she packed her bag. She caught Phineas' eye as she headed out, but he looked away again quickly when Tom looked at him pointedly.
"You don't have to intimidate my friends," she said with annoyance once the door shut behind them.
"But it's so easy to do," Tom replied smoothly, his own book bag hanging from his shoulder. He looked like such a stereotypical teenager, it was dreadful to think of all the vile evil hiding inside him already, and what he would do in the future.
"Why do you enjoy intimidating people?" Hermione asked him before she could stop herself as they walked along.
Tom looked at her sideways. "What a curious question."
"You're a curious person. You seem polite on the surface, but anyone who gets to know you realizes that is a façade."
Tom held the door to the library open for Hermione, then gave their pass to the librarian, Mr. Ziebler. "You seem to think you know a lot about me," Tom said as he led her back to the Potions section of the library, holding out her chair for her.
"Tell me I'm wrong, then. Point to one person who isn't intimidated by you," Hermione challenged, an expectant look on her face. Tom slid into the seat next to her, far closer than she would like, and propped his head up on his hand, looking at her.
"Ever looked in a mirror?" he asked, and Hermione ducked her head. Shit.
"You're wrong about that," she muttered softly, but he caught it.
"So you admit you find me intimidating?" Tom asked, enjoying playing with her. She was entertaining with her bravado, but again he knew this hinted at his future. She was thoroughly afraid of him then. So much the better.
"I'm going to get some books on potions," she said, deciding that the best course of action was to ignore him.
"Don't bother," Tom said, his wand at his fingertips easily. "Accio 'Philtres & Potions Most Potente'."
"How do you know there isn't another book with more information on the potion?" Hermione asked, exasperated.
"This is the best one," Tom said confidently as the tome landed on the table when he deftly turned his wand before it touched his hand.
"You're so arrogant," Hermione said, then stood to go look through the stacks herself. Tom stopped her with a light touch on her wrist, and she looked down at him ready to tell him off for touching her again.
"I have reason to be," he said, daring her to continue arguing with him. "I've been a student at this school for seven years. Do you think I don't know every inch of this library, every book in it? You may be a bookworm, Miss Girard, but I devour books."
"You don't know everything, Tom Riddle," Hermione retorted, but she sat back down.
"Of that I am well aware. I'm sure there are many things you know which I do not…yet," Tom said, his eyes pinning hers in manner that made her decidedly uncomfortable. Did he mean what she thought he might? She cursed him and his Obliviate—if only she knew what he had found out!
Tom's eyes narrowed in amusement as he saw the flash of fire in her eyes before she turned away from him in a huff and opened the book, wordlessly and wandlessly summoning ink and parchment from her bag to take notes. That was impressive, and so habitual he doubted she even noticed it anymore. More and more lovely surprises, all in a petite, tasteful package. The more he thought about it, the more he was inclined to claim her in all senses. He summoned the blood magic book from his own bag. He suspected that what he sought lay within its pages. Books weren't drawn to individuals for nothing. He could feel his magic building in anticipation of tasting hers, intertwining with it, corrupting it. He just had to find the right ritual.
"This says that older versions of the potion were more potent, but had 'deleterious effects' on the atmosphere. What do they mean by that?"
Tom lifted his head from his book. "There were certain effects on the weather patterns that were undesirable."
Hermione fixed him with a look. "Do you know where the older versions are?"
Tom sat back in his chair to look at her. "They were in some books in the Restricted section, but they were Dark books. Surely you don't intend to look at Dark texts, Hermione?"
There was undeniably a note of challenge in his tone, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. "As a matter of fact, I have read so-called 'Dark' texts before, if you'll recall. If you think you're going to put me off researching them just because you happen to believe this is the best version of the potion, you are mistaken. I am not going to do what you tell me to do. I prefer to think for myself."
Tom raised his eyebrow arrogantly at that. "That's only if you find them."
"I don't require your assistance to find information," Hermione replied frostily, then rose from the chair to speak to the librarian. Tom watched her wend her way through the tables and speak to Mr. Ziebler for a few minutes, then pass by him on her way to the Restricted section. She didn't even glance in his direction. Smothering a chuckle, Tom returned his attention to his book. A half hour later, she returned to the table and set down two thick tomes.
"You're missing one," Tom commented idly after ten minutes had passed. Hermione had found the relevant section of the first book and was copying the information, making notes in neat, indented sections as she went.
"I beg your pardon?" Hermione said, raising her head to look at him pointedly. Tom, of course, ignored her glare, and flipped to the next page in his book.
"There are three texts with references to the Angel's Trumpet. I thought you'd like to know."
"For your information, Riddle, I discarded the third text, because it recommended mixing infusion of wormwood with newt skin, a combination that is violently unstable. Furthermore, it required virgin's blood and other unsavory ingredients, which, as you are well aware, Slughorn would not let us use, let alone the difficulties of obtaining them," she said primly, turning her attention halfway through her recitation back to her notes. If he was going to nonchalantly ignore her, she would give him the same treatment.
A corner of Tom's mouth lifted slightly. "That problem was corrected in Ilstori's version. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get there eventually. Or, you could just take my word for it when I say that the version I selected is the best one."
Hermione snapped the page of the text she was working from rather pointedly, then looked up to fix him with a determined look. "I appreciate that you are…" she paused to let him deduce the word she'd use if she weren't polite, "…confident enough to believe your answer to be the best, but I will get the same grade, and I prefer to do my own work. And, I assure you, if I disagree with you, I won't hesitate to tell you so."
"I have no intentions of amending the potion," Tom said calmly, closing the blood magic book and fixing his attention on her, "And it is a waste of your time to expect I will do so, Hermione."
"Well in case you hadn't noticed, Tom, this is a partners assignment, and we are expected to work together and agree on what we do."
Tom leaned forward casually, his eyebrow coolly arching upward. "And what we will do is what I say. I am the better potion maker."
Hermione snapped the book shut so loudly that a few heads turned their way and Mr. Ziebler frowned and shhhed them from his desk. "I am going to talk to Professor Slughorn. If you aren't prepared to take my opinion seriously, I refuse to work with you."
Tom was going to let her storm off in her little snit, perfectly secure in the knowledge that Slughorn wouldn't disrupt the partners assignments. However, Herecles Potter glided by at that precise moment, and one look at Hermione's stormy countenance had the boy pulling out a chair across the table from Hermione and twirling it around so he could fling himself astride it.
"What's wrong Hermione? I thought you had Potions now."
"Actually, we are working on the partners Potions project together," Tom interjected coolly, sliding his book and his hands off the table. No need to give the Gryffindor prat a chance to be nosey about his choice of reading material.
"Actually, I was working on the project, but the Head Boy apparently has already decided which version he wants to make. I was just leaving to speak to Professor Slughorn, as I prefer a partner who will actually listen to me." She stood quickly and flicked her notes and ink into her bag, the books assembling themselves into a pile to be returned to Mr. Ziebler.
"If you were my partner on a project, I'd listen to you all day," Herecles said gallantly, and a faint hint of color crept across Hermione's cheekbones. Tom noticed.
"If you prefer to speak with Professor Slughorn about the versions of the potion, of course we can do that," Tom said neutrally, although his eyes flashed with a hint of something briefly. He stood as well and picked up his bag, the blood magic book sliding inside under the flap in a practiced move. "He will likely agree with me, but you are welcome to ask him."
"I'd prefer a different partner," Hermione said tightly, and Tom glanced at the Gryffindor Seeker, who was highly amused by their bickering.
"I think you'll find that he will not disrupt the existing partners assignments," Tom said, and Hermione flicked her hair to the side.
"We'll see about that."
She stalked off without another word, leaving Tom to follow and try to catch up with her. As he walked away, he heard Herecles Potter say to his teammate George, "Well, it's good to see that the most swooned after bloke in the school can't actually have everything he wants."
Tom's fist tightened minutely as he navigated through the crowded corridors. We'll see about that, indeed.
"Hermione, I'd like for you to stay after class, please."
Hermione nodded, but internally she sighed in relief. They had all been surprised to see Professor Dumbledore at the breakfast table this morning, and Hermione had planned to ask him for an appointment after class. The rest of her housemates shuffled out in the usual cacophony of chatter, the Slytherins passing by in twos and threes, all save Tom Riddle, who stopped briefly at Hermione's desk on his way past.
"Will you still come to library after? Slughorn expects that joint essay by Friday." His tone was as cool and collected as usual, and Hermione could discern no hint of fear in him about what she might discuss with Dumbledore. Either he was supremely confident that he had left absolutely no traces of his work, or he was extremely good at bluffing. She didn't know which, and it was useless to speculate. She replied politely,
"Assuming I am through before dinner, yes."
He nodded and left the classroom swiftly, the echo of the closing door resounding in the empty classroom.
"Perhaps it would be best if we had our chat in my office, Hermione," Dumbledore said, opening the door at the side which opened onto his office. Hermione stepped through, and this time was treated to a closer look at the magical instruments which the professor found so necessary. They appeared to be odd combinations of Muggle microscopes and astrolabes, along with other bits that she couldn't identify.
"Tea?"
The professor turned toward her with a swirl of his peacock blue robes from the spirit kettle on a table, and Hermione shook her head.
"No thank you, sir."
Curtly nodding his head, Dumbledore helped himself to a cup of tea with enough sugar to rot anyone's teeth, then took his seat behind his desk and began to speak after he took the first sip of his tea.
"I imagine that you are wondering why I have asked to speak with you. Well, Hermione, I have made a few delicate enquiries regarding your situation, and I wanted to brief you of the results."
He was studying her closely, and Hermione found herself suddenly nervous. What was he thinking about? "Of course, sir. I want to know anything you have found."
Dumbledore sighed and sat back in his chair. "I am afraid that these are delicate times, Hermione. Merely asking a few guarded questions about the topic of time travel made a few of my acquaintances very uneasy. One in particular was vehement about the Ministry's strong policy of automatic imprisonment in Azkaban for those foolish enough to mess with time. Nonetheless, I did procure a very rare book, as well as a few theory papers which might be helpful. As I am able, I plan to study them to investigate the potential avenue that was used to send you here."
The mention of imprisonment made Hermione very nervous. She understood the desire to preserve the timeline, but punishing the time traveler was a rather extreme attempt to do so. She spoke up quickly.
"I could help you with that, Professor. I am an excellent researcher, and no one has more of a vested interest in returning to my own time than myself. I would be happy to help if you would allow me to do so."
Dumbledore took another long sip of his tea and set the cup down abruptly on its saucer. "Professor Beery tells me that you are still troubled by the attentions of Tom Riddle."
Here was the chance she had sought to tell him what she suspected had happened after the hexing incident. Hermione sat forward and began, "Professor, I think you need to understand something about Tom Riddle—"
Dumbledore cut her off quickly and sat forward in his chair. "Miss Girard, whatever it is you were about to say, I must urge you again to resist the temptation to inform me of anything concerning my future, or Tom's, or, indeed, any other soul you may come across during your time here at Hogwarts. If nothing else, my few discussions and brief research has shown that it is absolutely imperative that you keep such information to yourself. It is precisely this sort of threat which the Ministry of Magic would seek to contain with their short-sighted imprisonment policy. No matter what effect you may feel you have by being here, I urge you to consider how much further it would spread if, by trying unwittingly to minimize the damage you may suppose yourself to do, you cause much larger ripples that have consequences far greater than we can foresee."
Hermione felt again that cold frisson of fear. This was the sternest warning yet which he had given her about not interfering. Could she trust him to not report it, if in fact Tom Riddle had somehow gained access to some of her memories? What domino effect would that cause? Obliviation for Tom, and Azkaban for herself? She couldn't take the risk.
"Professor, it's just that Tom Riddle is now my partner in two classes, and I find him to be rather intense. I would prefer different partners."
Professor Dumbledore's glance was one of sympathy, and she knew immediately that he would do nothing to intervene on her behalf.
"While I understand your concerns, it has also been brought to my attention by the two professors in question that you are one of the few of his peers who is willing to stand up to him. I believe this may be a very good experience for Mr. Riddle, and for yourself as well. Sometimes we have to learn to tolerate those whom we do not like."
Hermione nodded, a pragmatic expression on her face. Inside she despaired slightly. She was caught between a rock and a hard place with her knowledge of future events and Professor Dumbledore's dire warnings about her situation at present. "Yes, sir. I understand what you mean."
"Good." Professor Dumbledore stood, and Hermione rose as well, since she was clearly being dismissed. She hadn't missed that he had ignored her request to help with the time travel research, and so, before she went, she asked, "Sir? What other reason were you traveling?"
"Ah, well, I suppose I should have informed you, as my 'relative'. I was presenting a paper to the International Federation for Transfiguration, Magical Theory, and Spell Creation on the twelve uses of dragon's blood."
Hermione let a small smile creep onto her mouth. "That is excellent, Professor. And when will this paper be published?"
"In next quarter's edition of their journal," he replied affably.
"Well, sir, I believe I won't affect things too much by saying, it is an excellent paper," Hermione said. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in response.
"Thank you, my dear. I shall give you a copy—perhaps it would be of use in one of your classes."
Hermione accepted the paper that he flicked toward her, and nodded. "I believe I have just the thing for it, sir."
As she left, she hoped her gesture of goodwill would be received as such by the professor. If he began to suspect her of anything untoward due to her being out of place and time, well...she would truly lose her only powerful ally, and then what would she do?
Two days later, Herecles finally found his quarry alone in the courtyard.
"So, am I wrong in saying you don't appreciate Tom Riddle's attentions, or did I miss something?"
Hermione shrieked slightly as Herecles slid into the alcove next to her in the courtyard, then said, "Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Sorry, Seeker reflexes," he said with a grin that indicated he wasn't sorry at all. "It didn't seem like you and your Potions partner were getting along too well in the library the other day. I don't suppose you got out of that?"
"No," Hermione replied, flipping a page in the book in a clear hint that she wanted to be left alone. Herecles either didn't pick up on it, or chose to ignore it, because he remained perched beside her.
"I hear you got paired with him in DADA too. You must have a pretty fast wand."
"Tolerably so," Hermione said tightly. She had no intention of discussing her skills with anyone after her conversation with Professor Dumbledore yesterday. Herecles finally picked up on her hint to change the subject, and affably moved on.
"So, who are you going with to Sluggy's party tomorrow night?"
Hermione put her book down and looked levelly at him. "Phineas Longbottom. We're just friends."
"Oh? Well no offense, but he doesn't seem the type to stand up to Riddle for you, if that is what you were looking for in an escort."
Hermione snapped the next page in her book without seeing it and took a deep breath. Herecles was awfully perceptive when he wanted to be, like another Potter she knew.
"Why do you care?" Hermione asked, the way Herecles' hair was uncontrollably ruffled reminding her terribly of Harry.
"I don't like seeing people being bullied, and that's what he's doing to you, isn't it? So I can run interference for you. If you like." He was serious, she could tell; that Gryffindor brashness and bravery mixing in an appealing way.
"I would never forgive myself if something bad happened to you because of me," Hermione said, and meant it. She didn't know if he was Harry's grandfather, but the possibility that he may be meant she had to do everything in her power to keep him out of Tom Riddle's way.
"If he doesn't pick on you, an innocent girl, then there won't be a problem," Herecles said, crossing his arms over his chest in a mulishly male manner.
"I can handle him," Hermione said. "Besides, he already knows I'm going with Phineas, and he's fine with it." She turned her head back to her book to hide the little lie, and glanced up to see his skeptical expression.
"Sure he is. Because he's known to be such a sharing, caring soul."
"Why do you want to provoke him? Do you have a death wish?" Hermione asked, closing her book for good.
"He's a Slytherin, and a creep. What more reason do I need?" Herecles shrugged and Hermione felt a flash of anger at his boyish stupidity. Why were adolescent men so convinced of their own immortality?
"I can take care of myself," she said, jumping down from the stone ledge. "Don't worry about my problems, just stay away from Tom Riddle and his lackeys if you know what's good for you."
Herecles watched her stalk off, thoughtful. Something was going on with Riddle and Hermione, and he was going to figure out what it was. She was too nice to be devoured by that soulless bastard. An idea occurred to him and he jumped off the ledge as well. He had to find Augusta Donaghy.