Good evening! Hope everyone had a great weekend. Here is the 'twinned' chapter...hope you enjoy it! Thank you to the all the new followers & reviewers! Do let me know what you think of this. :)

"Now, Tom and Hermione, I understand that you have some disagreement as to which version of the Angel's Trumpet that you believe will be best," Professor Slughorn said, peering at them over the top of his glasses.

"No, I believe we—" Tom began, but Hermione interrupted him, "Yes, that's right Professor. I'm afraid we can't reach a consensus, and we need you to look at both recipes and settle our disagreement for us."

"Ah," Professor Slughorn said, throwing glances at both of them before beginning to look at their separate notes. Hermione threw a small charm disguising their handwriting at the sheaf of parchment and blatantly ignored the narrowing of Tom's eyes, the only visible sign of his irritation when their classmates were shamelessly eavesdropping on the conversation. She had held her head high through the gossip surrounding them leaving Slughorn's supper together, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she spotted Herecles eating breakfast as usual at the Gryffindor table. She had then spent all of Sunday sequestered in the Ravenclaw common room lest she run into Tom. It was petty, but she had needed time to consider everything that they had danced around during their little tête à tête. She had concluded that she was not attracted to Tom Riddle, it was merely that he was so clever with his magic. She would admit to being slightly envious of that, but it was nothing more than that.

"Hmmm…" the professor said as he perused one set of notes, then turned his attention to the other. "Oh, well, that could be very interesting! Well, well!"

Tom cocked his head expectantly as Professor Slughorn looked at the pair of them again, obviously pleased.

"Well, I knew you would be a formidable pair, but this is exquisite potions theory! Tell me, Miss Girard, has a little bird whispered in your ear about your cousin's work with dragon's blood?"

Hermione threw a thinly disguised triumphant expression at Tom before looking back to Professor Slughorn. "Indeed, sir, I was able to read an early copy."

"I see! And did you discuss this idea with Professor Dumbledore?" Professor Slughorn queried, leaning forward and giving her the type of stern look he reserved for ferreting out any possible cheating.

"No sir, I haven't had the opportunity. I haven't seen him since immediately after his return," Hermione said truthfully, and Professor Slughorn smiled.

"Absolutely inspired, Miss Girard! Well, come along with me then, I believe I might have some in my private potions stores—I'd say you will have to try out the base of the potion first, have to be careful with such volatile ingredients, what?"

Tom and Hermione followed the professor toward his private office, and Tom took the opportunity to say quietly, "Dragon's blood?"

Hermione turned her head superciliously toward him. "Well, you refused to talk to me about the potion base at all. Did you really think I was going to simply go along with what you wanted to do?"

Tom thought to himself that he had been foolish to assume she would do so, yet any other witch would have done so without question. Fool, he chided himself. She's not like other witches.

As Professor Slughorn began to rummage around in his cupboards, Tom leaned down and said quietly, "Well, bring me up to speed in the next thirty seconds, or you're going to look feuding and petty when I don't know what the hell he's talking about."

Hermione caught a glimpse of anger in his expression before he smoothed it away by dint of long practice. She whispered back, "It would serve you right, you pompous git," she paused and flicked her eyes up to his, and whatever she saw there was enough to make her reconsider her actions. She supposed it was petty, and suddenly the satisfaction of putting one over on Tom Riddle academically evaporated like dew in the morning. She was behaving no better than he, and she knew better.

"It's the version we both initially discarded. If you use dragon's blood instead of virgin's blood, it stabilizes the newt skin and infusion of wormwood."

Hermione could see the wheels turning in Tom's head, but the only acknowledgement he gave her was a brief nod. Their attention was diverted by Professor Slughorn's exclamation of "Aha!" from the depths of what was clearly a magically extended cabinet. He reappeared with a very dusty amber glass bottle.

"Professor, might it be worthwhile to try a second base using salamander skin instead of the newt? That should be slightly less volatile, as well as reduce some of the effects on the weather patterns," Tom said quickly, and Professor Slughorn tapped the side of his nose.

"Just the thing, Tom! You see, I knew the pair of you could produce brilliant work if you just put your heads together! This is what I suggest—Miss Girard, you spend this period brewing the base you suggested, perhaps with a touch of ginger to settle it down a bit, and Tom, you brew the base with the salamander skin as you suggest. Then we can see which has the best stability before you choose the final recipe for Thursday, hmm?"

They both nodded, and Slughorn passed the bottle to Tom.

"Excellent! Get on with it, then. Such fun, these projects!"

With that Slughorn walked off to check on the next team, and Hermione quietly began to get her cauldron ready.

"The next time you have a brilliant idea about our joint project, at least do me the courtesy of giving me an opportunity to sneer at it before you run off to Slughorn," Tom said in a low tone so their classmates couldn't eavesdrop.

"If you didn't treat me like some airheaded witch from the start I wouldn't have resorted to such pettiness," Hermione whispered back, crushing beetle eyes with perhaps a bit more force than necessary.

"You're right," her partner said quietly, so quietly that she almost missed it. She nearly cut herself with the edge of her knife from the shock of his near apology, but his next words crushed any sense of goodwill that engendered. "Believe me, I won't underestimate you again."

Hermione refused to let the unease of that statement be the note on which they ended the conversation. "Well, good. I hope that means you'll listen to my ideas the next time we have a joint project."

Tom viciously crushed his own beetle eyes. Little did she realize, he was always listening to her…probably too well for her liking. Hermione was unaware of just how long-term a project they were in. This thought cheered him somewhat, and the corner of his mouth twitched up slightly as he stole glances at the witch next to him throughout the period.

At the end of the class, Slughorn saved their bases for last, dismissing the other teams one by one. Finally he arrived to check on both of their potions, and expressed a great deal of satisfaction with the consistency of each.

"I do believe that Tom's base is more potent, but it seems like it is not holding together quite as nicely as Hermione's. Well, this is a quandary!"

Hermione caught Tom's smug expression and piped up, "Professor, wouldn't fresh dragon's blood do a better job of stabilizing the base? Perhaps that would be a sufficient change to stabilize it enough to use."

Professor Slughorn nodded appreciatively. "You may be right, Hermione! I suppose your cousin might have some, eh? Well, let's all go and see if Professor Dumbledore is available, shall we? I'm sure he won't mind sharing some with you, dear."

Hermione could see that Tom was not best pleased to be dragged off to ask a favor of his least favorite professor, but she merely packed up her things as directed by Slughorn.

"Leave those bases, I'll clean those up later—let's get along."

Shrugging her bag onto her shoulder, Hermione trailed quietly behind their potions professor, fully aware that Tom was behind her. They reached Professor Dumbledore's office in short order, and fortunately for their project the professor was in. He opened the door himself, and cheerfully greeted his colleague.

"Hello, Horace, what can I do for you? Oh, I see you have Mr. Riddle and Miss Girard with you. Come in, come in."

Professor Slughorn wasted no time in coming to the point. "Thank you Albus, thank you. We stopped by to see if you would perhaps be able to spare a bit of fresh dragon's blood for Miss Girard and Mr. Riddle's potions project. They are working on an improved version of the Angel's Trumpet, and between the pair of them they have come up with quite a good base…"

"Which would be a bit better with fresh dragon's blood, I take it," Professor Dumbledore said, with a knowing look at Hermione before returning his attention to Professor Slughorn. "Unfortunately, Horace, I am out. I won't be getting any more until possibly Thursday, when I'm planning to visit the Welsh dragon preserve, but even then I will only get more if I have time to collect it myself."

Professor Slughorn looked affably at Dumbledore. "Surely you would be able to take Miss Girard or Mr. Riddle with you? They could help you collect it, and learn a valuable thing or two in the process, I'm sure! I can't imagine the headmaster would object to such a trip in aid of a seventh year potions project."

Professor Dumbledore looked at the pair of them and said, "I suppose I have no objections to that plan. Hermione, would you be able to accompany me?"

Hermione, who had said not a word during the whole exchange and had refused to even look at Tom, finally shot a glance at him before turning her gaze to Dumbledore. "I am terribly sorry, but Professor Beery has enlisted me to help him with the last flower collection for Mala Mujer, and that must be on Thursday."

Professor Slughorn was quick to fill a silence that was apt to become awkward had it continued for a second longer. "Well, that is a shame! But I'm sure Mr. Riddle here would be just as capable an assistant, wouldn't you agree, Albus?"

Professor Dumbledore turned his attention to Tom Riddle, who calmly met his look with apparent equanimity. "Well Tom, what say you?"

"I would be happy to be of assistance," Tom replied politely, and Professor Dumbledore nodded curtly in acquiescence and turned back to Slughorn.

"There, Horace, you will have your fresh dragon's blood. Do tell me how it works out."

The two professors chatted briefly about another matter of little consequence while Hermione and Tom waited. Hermione met Tom's briefly narrowed eyes with a cool raised eyebrow. Privately she resolved to run down Professor Beery immediately to inform him that Thursday would suit her best for the flower collection. Finally Professor Slughorn suggested they excuse themselves, and Hermione took the opportunity to head to the Great Hall for dinner, ignoring Tom's pointed looks.

Thursday approached much faster than Tom would have liked. From the snippet of conversation that Evan had overheard between Hermione and her head of house, she had nimbly dumped him into this trip with Dumbledore. Now as he prepared himself for an uncomfortable day with his most suspicious professor, he wondered exactly what Hermione had discussed with Dumbledore when the professor had returned.

"Ah, Mr. Riddle. Ready to go?" Professor Dumbledore was arrayed in the most ghastly set of robes Tom could picture, a dizzying array of orange, purple, and a virulent pink. He wondered not for the first time if the wizard was color-blind. "I believe side-along would be best, Tom."

Tom nodded once curtly, then took the professor's proffered forearm. He hated side-along apparition, but there was nothing for it, as he had never been to Wales. The uncomfortable lurch and twist pissed him off, but he was rock solid on his feet when they landed on a craggy hillside dotted with snow.

"Snowdonia?" Tom asked, coolly taking in their surroundings.

"Indeed. Let us be off. It's about a mile through the gap."

The professor set off at a brisk clip which Tom had no problem matching. For thirty seconds, Tom harbored the cheerful illusion that the trek would pass in silence, but Professor Dumbledore was clearly in a chatty mood.

"My young cousin tells me you are quite interested in her, Tom." Dumbledore took a curious, appraising glance of the young man beside him, not even bothering to disguise his interest. "I confess myself surprised by your attention."

Fuck. This was precisely the type of landmine Tom had expected, and though he had his answer ready, he was peeved that Hermione had managed to dump him so thoroughly in the middle of a day likely to be peppered with opportunities for interrogations which Dumbledore would disguise as cheerful interest in the behalf of his supposed relative Hermione.

"Well, sir, she is quite an interesting witch."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at that. Herbert Beery had informed him that it was Hermione's idea to do the flower collection on Thursday, which meant she had purposefully engineered this little trip for the pair of them. Herbert was of the firm opinion that perhaps Tom was being a bit too aggressive in courting her. Albus wasn't so sure about that—Tom was interested in her, but he wasn't convinced that it was for anything other than coldhearted reasons. Today he aimed to get a better idea of what Tom was after if he could manage it.

"How so, pray tell? Apart from being intelligent like her mother, I don't see how Hermione is so very particularly different from her peers," Dumbledore observed with a raised brow, slowly stopping briefly to appraise Tom. "You have never been one for pursuing the witches, Tom."

Tom met Dumbledore's gaze easily enough, confident in his own Occlumency and the story he had concocted. "She is remarkably capable, sir. You'll pardon me for saying so, but she is also singularly uninterested in finding a husband. I find that…refreshing."

"I see," Dumbledore replied, resuming his walking. "Frankly, I was under the impression that she doesn't like you very much, Tom."

He seemed to take a great delight in saying that, which caused Tom to scowl slightly as he caught up again to the professor.

"I believe it is partly a case of my reputation preceding me, professor," he said innocently enough, but the subtext was plain. Tom was inferring that Dumbledore had poisoned the girl against him. This was very much in character with what Albus knew of how Tom's mind worked, but it didn't get him any closer to why Tom was pursuing Hermione.

"Do you have a reputation, Mr. Riddle? I wasn't aware of one, other than perhaps an overly healthy dose of pride," Dumbledore replied as they drew up to an enormous pair of gates, the surrounding wall of native stone quite high. "But I'm sure you will have time enough today to convince me of the sincerity of any affection you feel for my young cousin. Prewett, open up!"

The professor had banged heavily on the doors as he spoke, and a small window opened, a youngish man with ginger eyebrows peering out.

"Albus! Come in, come in," the man said in a surprisingly deep voice, then patted the professor heartily on the back as he entered. Tom stepped in deftly behind him, waiting for the professor to introduce him. Dumbledore seemed to have forgotten him momentarily, then turned and said, "Oh yes, let me introduce one of my students, Thomas Riddle. Tom, this is Ignatius Prewett, one of the dragon keepers here."

"Nice to meet you," Ignatius offered kindly, and Tom nodded in reply. "Quiet, isn't he?"

"Oh, Mr. Riddle lives up to his name well enough," Albus said enigmatically. "Now, I wanted to enquire about that Norwegian Ridgeback you were nursing, and while we're at it, Mr. Riddle here would like to try his hand at acquiring some fresh dragon's blood for a potions project he's working on. I trust you can find an appropriate specimen on which he can try his luck?"

Ignatius Prewett looked Tom over with an appraising eye. "Hmmm, you seem sturdy enough. We've a Welsh Green that's a bit of a spitfire. Young amputee, part of the wing missing. It's about time for a check up. Wand out!"

Tom strongly disliked being given orders by someone who had no business ordering him about, but he could see that Dumbledore was watching him keenly and he had no doubt that there were more questions to come about Hermione. Mentally resolving to remember every little detail of this little lesson, he withdrew his wand from his sleeve with a flourish and mock bowed to the insolent dragon keeper.

"Protect yourself," the man barked, giving Tom next to no time to react before a powerful flame was coming his way. Tom didn't even use a verbal incantation, merely let the flame barrel around his shield without much in the way of effort.

"He'll do well enough," Ignatius said to Dumbledore as he ceased casting, ignoring Tom completely. "Come along then," he said, then loped off under the assumption that they would follow him, which they did.

Professor Dumbledore whispered offhandedly as they hurried along, "Mr. Prewett is rather famous for his brusque nature. Not to worry, I'm told it's part of his charm—exactly what Professor Slughorn says about you, come to think of it."

Tom ignored that little jibe and gritted his teeth.

Within three hours, Tom had been burnt by a poorly deflected flame from the Welsh Green whom, it turned out, was sitting a nest of eggs. Prewett had neglected to mention that before turning Tom loose with the unsavory task of distracting the brooding female so the dragon keeper could immobilize her long enough to look at one of her eyes which was scarred. After that rather unpleasant incident, which was more unpleasant due to his singed pride than the actual burn, it had been rather uneventful to extract some blood from her tail while Professor Dumbledore chatted easily enough with Prewett. Then he'd had to endure an hour of back slapping and a vile Welsh ale, followed by four cold, wet hours on a broom. He had balked at that initially, but Professor Dumbledore assured him,

"It compromises the properties of fresh dragon's blood if you apparate with it. Best to fly back. Come along, I have two brooms from the school which we can use."

This was just the beginning of the fun of spending four hours in flight with Professor Albus Dumbledore, who was by no means done with his attempts to ferret information from young Tom Riddle about his actual intentions concerning Hermione Girard. The professor was quite adept with charms, and it was no trouble for him to conjure a speaking charm that allowed them to converse.

"Interesting family, the Prewetts. Remarkably open-minded considering their heritage. Nice to see that sort of adaptation to the times among the more well-known wizarding families."

Tom said nothing. He had learned long ago that to attempt any sort of discussion with Professor Dumbledore was a fruitless endeavor, and he had no interest in engaging in a debate on the merits of pureblood ideology with a professor he detested. He waited for the professor's next salvo, and it wasn't long in coming.

"There is quite a lot of discord at present between families. It is having some unpleasant effects in Germany and elsewhere. I don't suppose you've been paying any attention to that?"

Was Dumbledore's tone slightly sharper, or was he imagining it? Tom disliked not being able to read the professor's body language due to their being on broomsticks, so he chose a neutral reply. "It would be hard not to pay attention to that, sir."

Dumbledore grimaced slightly. Well, he hadn't expected the boy to be easy to crack. He threw a glance at the young man and then said, "Hermione mentioned you had an interest in her arrival here."

Well that was unsubtle, Tom thought to himself. "Yes, it would be difficult not to be interested given that she recently lost her parents. I would hope that anyone would be sensitive to her grief and drastically changed circumstances."

Was it his imagination, or was there a slight inflection on 'drastically'? Dumbledore decided to be a bit more direct.

"And yet you do not hesitate to spar with her in all of the courses you share, Tom. I wonder why you find this activity so satisfying, and so suddenly too. I can well remember a time when you were not pleased by anyone arguing with you."

"I don't think that Miss Girard would be satisfied with less than vigorous debate on controversial subjects, professor. And such debates only serve to clarify my own opinions, which must surely be considered a good thing?"

"You will understand why I am surprised by you seeking out Hermione for social engagements. I had gotten the impression from Hermione that she was less than impressed with your manners."

Now we're getting down to it, Tom thought to himself. Dumbledore's look was keen, and Tom took the excuse of refreshing his impervious charms on his shoes and cloak before turning his attention back to his transfiguration professor. It didn't do much good with the way the wind was bucking them about, but it was better than getting thoroughly soaked. He wondered if Hermione had allowed Dumbledore a peek at her mind, in which case the Obliviate would have stood out like a sore thumb. Dumbledore couldn't afford to ask the Ministry's professional memory experts in to attempt a restoration, so even if he knew about it, he couldn't act upon it unless Tom gave himself away—something which he had no intention of doing.

"As I said, I was surprised by her capabilities when we first met." He paused for deliberate effect, as if thinking whether he really wanted to say what was about to come out of his mouth, then said, "I was a bit rude to her at first. Now that we have been partnered together, I am beginning to appreciate the depth of her knowledge on many subjects." There, chew on that, old man.

The sly tone at the end of Tom's sentence gave Dumbledore pause, so he took the opportunity of the next few seconds to consider what Tom had said thus far. Albus' mind whirred slightly, adjusting his tack. "She is under the impression that you are more interested in her past than in her personally."

Time for the show, Tom thought grimly. "Oh no, sir, I assure you. Hermione is the most intriguing girl I've ever met. Compared to her peers, it's only natural that she should stand out. I haven't asked much about her life before she arrived here, but I do want to be sensitive to her feelings. Perhaps I should not mention Grindelwald…?"

Let's hear you defend her past then, and keep your bloody nose out of my business.

"She is quite a capable witch, as you say. She has been through quite a lot, and I'm sure she prefers to put it behind her as much as possible for the time being."

Tom noticed that Dumbledore ignored his question about Hermione's life before her arrival here. He knew that the professor's rigorous morals had probably prevented him from having a nose around in her mind, doubtless due to some well-placed fear of messing up the future. Tom himself had no such qualms, even if he wasn't quite sure yet how he would be best served by whatever information he could glean from Hermione. It was smart of Dumbledore to avoid making up details that could prove messy to corroborate in the future.

Albus was studying the Head Boy, trying to decide exactly how much Tom was willing to risk in conversation. He had not given much away, except for many statements with possible hidden meanings. The boy was clever and more than a touch malicious, but thus far Hermione had seemed to hold her own with him. It was a difficult situation, and one which he would have to keep an eye on. He considered again that perhaps Herbert was onto something with his gentle inference that it was possible for Tom Riddle to be genuinely interested in the girl. He decided to tweak Tom's nose a bit and see what his response was.

"I understand Herecles Potter has taken quite an interest in her as well."

Dumbledore did not miss that Tom's eyes narrowed for a brief microsecond before his expression carefully blanked again and he resumed his casual stare forward over the handle of his broom. "Mr. Potter is interested in any girl that will give him the time of day. Since he seems to have run through the girls in his own house, he seems to be moving on to the others."

"That smacks of a bit of jealousy, Tom." Dumbledore's tone was a bit too cheerful for Tom's taste. "I'd say Hermione is able to determine if she is interested in a beau like Mr. Potter. He is quite jolly, which perhaps is just what she needs after a difficult period. I can't say I would disapprove of her choice if she chose to see him."

The omission of his own name was quite deliberate, he was sure, and Tom kept his face expressionless. "At this point, I am not sure Hermione needs a beau like Mr. Potter. He is very juvenile in his interests and activities, and…" Tom hesitated to give his statement more supposed emotional weight, "…frankly I think she needs someone of a more serious bent, given her intelligence."

"I would advise you not to set your mind on a relationship you may find you cannot have, Mr. Riddle." Dumbledore's tone was a bit firmer now. Trying to warn me off, are you, old man? "It is highly likely that Hermione will return home once the unpleasantness over there settles out. I am quite certain she is not interested in any sort of serious relationship."

"I understand you perfectly, Professor. After all, I am only her partner in two classes. It is not as if I am looking for a wife or any of the other business that seems to consume many of my peers at this stage." This, at least, was true, and Tom infused his voice with the absolute honesty of his statement. I'm not looking, because whatever of that nature I need in future, I have already provided for myself.

"Very true, Tom." Dumbledore was certain he had not heard Tom Riddle behave with this degree of jealousy over anything other than power. It was quite a noticeable thing, if it weren't all a performance.

"I believe Herecles is planning to ask her to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party," Dumbledore remarked. "That would be quite a happy meeting of houses, I believe."

"She has agreed to go to the party with me, sir," Tom said, only because he was quite certain that Dumbledore already knew this and would have been suspicious if he had not confirmed it. Damn Slughorn and his gossipy nature.

"I see. Well Mr. Riddle, I certainly hope that I will hear that you have been treating my cousin with nothing but the utmost politeness. I wouldn't want her to feel forced into your company unwillingly."

Tom was silent at this and Dumbledore wondered at the likely reasons for it. Tom wondered exactly what Hermione had said to the professor about his treatment of her. Dumbledore wondered exactly how Tom had achieved Hermione's consent to attend the party with him, and resolved to speak to her at the first opportunity. Both lapsed into silence for the remainder of the flight, Tom privately thinking that Hermione had chosen her punishment for him quite well, indeed.