Hermione was glaring at her homework with her copy of their diary open between her textbook and several pieces of parchment. He could see her and all her friends as clearly as if he was standing off to the side of their makeshift studying space. Tom wondered how much tweaking the spell would require to let him rotate the viewing point at will. Or expand it, even.

"I officially hate this course. There. I've said it," she grumbled. She roughly grabbed a sheet of scribbled-on parchment, balled it up, and threw it into a small pile of discarded and likewise balled up parchment pieces in the middle of the giant table.

A younger, near-identical lookalike to Abraxas snorted from her left. "Someone owl the minister. Granger found a class she's bad at. We're all doomed."

"Draco," Hermione said sweetly, "I'll break your nose."

Tom hid a smile behind his hand. Seemed she was feeling feistier today with everyone, not just him.

"Hermione," Draco parroted. "I'll tell my grandfather."

Hermione looked up long enough to give him a wholly unimpressed glare — one that reminded Abraxas and Flynn of Tom's. "Oh no. Who on this earth can protect me from the wrath of Abraxas Malfoy? I will certainly perish. If only I knew Tom Riddle."

"Draco quit being a prat. 'Mione, I'm sure you'll get it," soothed a boy Tom assumed to be Harry based on the brief description she'd given him in the past. "You're the cleverest witch of our age, after all."

"Not feeling the cleverest right now, Harry," she said.

"Well, you found a spell that works," Flynn muttered. "Assuming that's the same Hermione."

"That's her," Tom said absently. There was so much information to try and take in, but he also needed to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of time…

Still, Hermione's changed body language, nevermind the collection of new faces he could finally put to names, was nearly overwhelming to take in by itself.

"I already asked Tom for help," Hermione continued. "Even though I think I've asked him about divination a dozen times already just since term started. He probably thinks I'm an idiot."

"If he does, he's an idiot." Tom's eyes moved away from Hermione, whose posture was almost unrecognizable compared to what he usually saw of her, and found a boy with dark hair whose bland expression held only whispers of familiarity. "Write the older one if the younger one is a prick about you needing help with div."

"I need to write him back anyway since I got a letter today, so I may as well regardless," she murmured. "But the younger isn't usually like that when I get stuck on something. He's mostly a smartarse in my experience."

"Poppy says much the same about Lord Riddle now," Draco said wryly. "I think Theo's father butt heads with him over the summer a few times too. But from my understanding, Lord Nott and Lord Riddle have never gotten on well."

The quiet boy in the back — Theo Nott, Tom assumed — nodded sagely. "I always know if Father met with Riddle or their associates based on how many times I hear him say shite like 'I swear to Merlin this fucker hasn't been tolerable since we were in school' through the Floo."

"That one is Nott's son," Tom murmured to the boys. "He must look like his mother. But that was definitely an impression of Theron."

"Nott gets laid?" Flynn muttered back. "Never would've bet on that. He's too much of a brain to chase skirts. Almost as bad as you."

Draco snickered. "I think those Floo calls are usually with Uncle Flynn and my grandfather."

Theo nodded, grinning. "Avery's a funny bloke too. How much firewhiskey do you reckon they all go through at their old man meetings?"

The question sent both of them into a sudden fit of quiet laughter.

"Mum says Avery is the only one of the main three that isn't a complete prick," said the only other girl in the group. Tom assumed she must be the fondly mentioned Tracey, an assumption encouraged by the sly grin the blonde gave Hermione. "Then again, Mum's fond of Riddle despite his attitude, so."

Hermione stared at the girl, seeming entirely unphased by her teasing attitude. "Apologies, Davis, I'm certain I misheard you."

Flynn choked on a snort, earning a warning glare from Tom. Abraxas managed to subdue his mirth with more success and quietly muttered, "Mouthy little thing, isn't she?"

"You did not," said Tracey. "She flirts with Riddle when she's cross with Dad. Harmlessly, of course, she loves Dad. But they have a running joke that if Riddle ever accepted her suit, she'd leave Dad in a heartbeat. And Dad always just sort of shrugs and goes 'That's fair, dear'."

Theo stared at her. "Davis, didn't your Mum also threaten to sleep with half the Wizengamot last year?"

Tracey nodded. "There was a bill on the ballot dealing with Witch's Rights and she thought she could probably sway the sexist half of the Wizengamot if the marriage bond would let her try, but they used the old fidelity rites, you know. A joke as well."

Tom noted that Hermione was still staring blank-faced at her friend, which earned her a mischievous grin from the other girl. "What's the matter, Hermione? He always tells her no, of course. You're the excuse too."

"Have I gone deaf?" Hermione asked. "Also, Davis, you have a breakable nose too, do be careful."

"Granger, how much money do you want to start that fight?" Theo asked. "I want to watch. No wands. Fight like muggles. May the most vicious witch win."

"Would you really break such an adorable nose?" Tracey asked innocently, ignoring Theo entirely.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "My answer gets closer to 'yes' the longer you talk. What do you mean I'm the excuse anyway? I don't stop Tom from having a personal life. Tom stops Tom from having a personal life. He barely even likes to be touched."

Draco turned and gave Hermione a befuddled stare. "Riddle lets you touch him?" he asked, too quietly for Tracey to hear. Hermione shot him a similarly confused glance and muttered, "Sometimes?"

Tom rolled his eyes. Everyone had an opinion about his personal life recently, didn't they? "Witches don't interest me, Dove," he muttered under his breath, despite knowing she couldn't hear him. "Especially considering you're the only one I've ever held multiple intelligent conversations with."

Tom couldn't decipher the smirk Tracey was giving Hermione. "Well all summer anytime she worked with him she'd come home whining about how his sponsee needed his undivided attention and Black's trial taking up all his free time. If she tried to flirt with him, he'd just start talking about how well you were picking up wandless magic or things he hoped to teach you next summer between terms," Tracey said. "Mum was quite put out to learn he had the capacity for devotion, just not in her direction."

"Davis." Hermione said darkly. "Stop talking."

Tracey giggled to herself, but whatever battle of wills she'd started with Hermione was dropped in favor of returning to her schoolwork. Once Tracey backed down, Hermione sighed and threw her head down on her desk. Harry winced at the thud her forehead made.

"I prefer you fully functioning, 'Mione, please don't give yourself brain damage," he said.

"Maybe I'll knock something loose and gain the ability to succeed at this stupid class if I hit my head hard enough."

"How about we don't test that theory," Draco said dryly.

Hermione grumbled, but lifted her head just enough to lazily swish her wand. A deck of tarot cards levitated, shuffled, and three cards flicked out of the pile. A reversed High Priestess, The Tower, and the Knight of Pentacles, just like she'd told Tom.

"Why didn't the cards light up with colors?" Flynn asked. "What spell did they teach her? How are they meant to interpret anything without knowing what area of their life each card is referencing?"

Tom hummed to himself, frowning as he watched her eye the cards miserably. "I'd bet good galleons Dumbledore altered the spell for some reason. I thought he saved all his attempted student sabotage for me."

"Well," said Flynn, "let's find a way to help the poor little bird before she concusses herself in frustration."

Flynn joined Tom on the quest through their textbooks to find some means of helping Hermione with her Divination conundrum that wouldn't set off any red flags to the school staff in her time. Tom left his new spell up on the empty wall, since the chatter and laughter of Hermione's friends wasn't as disturbing as he normally would've found the minor ruckus. The third years were treating their abandoned classroom like a personal library, so to speak, and Tom rather liked having the ability to check on Hermione by simply looking to his left. Abraxas, however, was giving the wall a puzzled stare and hadn't yet touched his partially completed Ancient Runes assignment.

"Didn't you say time moved unevenly between you?" he asked Tom after a few moments. "How is it that we seem to be able to see into the future in real-time?"

"I thought he was trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was looking at his grandson," Flynn muttered to Tom.

"As did I," Tom said.

Abraxas glared at them. "From an Arithmancy and Magical Theory perspective, the spell he used was the simplest and least likely to work. But it's working better than intended? Magic that interferes with time is bleeding dangerous."

"The Room seems to create a time-neutral space when she's here. I wouldn't be surprised if the same parameters were applied to the spell," Tom said. "Pity if that's the case. It means I need to find something else to use for summer."

Tom cast a variation of tempus that created a floating, visual clock. Then another spell that made it so they could see the passing of seconds as well.

"We're in slow motion?" Abraxas asked, as they watched seconds tick by at half speed.

Tom shrugged. "In essence. Time moves twice as quickly for her as it does for us, so in order to see her at a normal speed, our perception of time would have to slow down."

"You two sure do love thinking about confusing shite way too hard when you don't have to," Flynn said, shaking his head. "Magic has some baseline of natural law and order and some scholars even theorize magic is mildly sentient. The simplicity of the spell coupled with intent and Tom's understanding of time also could've compensated accordingly. And maybe because we're engaging with the spell in some way, like seeing or hearing it, we're part of whatever field of effect it has."

"If you're right, then I can use this outside the castle," Tom said. "Which means I'll only need to mind when and where I cast it. And those are easy variables to work around."

As they resumed their various projects, Tom, Flynn, and Abraxas learned another benefit to the time-slowing effects of the spell: They had more time to study.

"So as long as we're keeping an eye on Birdie, we have plenty of time to focus on side projects and review for our O.W.L.s," Flynn said.

Tom raised a brow. "Birdie?"

Flynn shrugged. "You said 'Dove' is off-limits. It'd be odd to call her something wholly different. And 'little bird' takes almost as long to say as her name, which is the only other thing I can think of to call her."

Abraxas snorted softly. "I think it suits her."

"If she likes it," Tom said blandly.

Their study group disbanded for lunch.

"Slytherin has practice and final tryouts after," Draco explained. "So I won't be studying again until after dinner."

By then, Hermione would be in the Room of Requirement for the evening, and Gryffindor had their own make-up tryouts and practice scheduled after Slytherin. So she'd lose Harry for a few hours too.

Draco grinned and kissed her cheek after he stood. "Next time, we make a giant round table."

She returned his grin. "The next generation of knights of the round table, are we?"

"Something like that," Draco said with a hum. "Have fun with Poppy and Flynn."

Tracey also bounced over to her and kissed her cheek before leaving. "I was just teasing earlier, I promise," she whispered in Hermione's ear. "You know I love you, don't you?"

Hermione only rolled her eyes. "I love you too, even when you're being cheeky and tiresome."

Tracey beamed and flounced out of the room behind Draco. Not far behind her, though notably calmer, Theo shook his head.

"Mental, that one," he murmured, sharing a warm smile with Hermione. "If the young triumvirate doesn't manage to help you with your divination homework, I wouldn't judge you for asking to copy mine. Might even let you."

She playfully punched his arm. "Thanks, arsehole."

Theo patted the top of her head solemnly. "One assumes great burdens for their friends."

"Theodore, do shut up."

With a quiet chuckle, the final Slytherin departed. Harry and Hermione agreed to follow several minutes behind, in an attempt to lessen the heat their friends were getting from their housemates.

"'Young triumvirate' suits them, don't you think?" Harry asked, a sly grin on his face.

Hermione snickered. "Tom does sometimes bring Julius Caesar to mind," she allowed. "Would Draco's grandfather be Brutus?"

Harry only shrugged. "You'll have to find out and let me know."

A small, nervous flutter rolled in her stomach. "Suppose I will."

Harry's expression tightened for a moment, distracting her from her building anxiety and turning it into a different sort of worry.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I just got to thinking about what Tracey said earlier," he muttered. "We should have a plan, shouldn't we? For if something comes up and we decide to abandon Gryffindor on a sickle?"

"Oh," she said, mirroring his frown. "That's a wise idea. What do you suggest?"

"Well," he said. "That all depends on if you'd want to go together. I do, but I wasn't sure if maybe you'd be worried about the social backlash being worse if we went at the same time."

"I think we should only go together," she said. "It's not really worth it otherwise, is it? And I don't want to be in a predicament where one of us feels left behind."

A relieved smile stole over Harry's face, easing much of the tension that had been there previously. "Me either. So we go together, no exceptions."

She nodded once, firmly. "Yes."

"But when?" he asked. "A holiday would be easier, I think."

Hermione shrugged. "I dunno, honestly. Christmas feels too soon. Next term feels too far. Maybe we just...see how we're feeling at Christmas? If things aren't too terrible, then maybe we finish out the year or switch on Easter hols?"

Harry nodded and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "That seems reasonable enough. But, if for some reason one of us got extra upset or uncomfortable in Gryffindor, if anything extreme happens, what's our signal?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "Should it just be 'Snape'? That's who Tom said to go to if and when we wanted to be resorted."

"We talk about Snape all the time studying and writing Potions essays," Harry said.

"Yes but I'm certain the context will convey the message," said Hermione. "Like if Ron was being exceptionally stupid and I lose my patience for the last time, then mentioning Snape would convey the right message."

"That's fair," Harry said. "And you're probably right. If we even need to switch houses in an emergency situation, then we'll probably be on high alert already."

With a solemn nod, Hermione offered him her pinky finger. Grinning, Harry hooked his with hers.

"Together or not at all," she said. He echoed the words back to her, then pulled her in for a hug.

"I dunno what I'd do without you, Hermione."

Donning her best Draco impression, Hermione gave a delicate sniff. "Still be friends with Ronald, probably."

"Oh shut up," Harry said, throwing an arm around her shoulders as he laughed. "Let's go eat."

Tom watched them walk into the Great Hall together, fully distracted from his studies as he realized yet another benefit of being able to peer into the future.

Instead of studying his classmates and hoping for answers on ways to help Hermione relax and be more cheerful, he could see the direct effects of her friends' efforts, catalog them, and adapt the ones he thought useful. She was so much more relaxed in the abandoned classroom, even when frustrated, than she had ever been in the Room of Requirement.

He wondered if what he normally saw was how she generally behaved in classes and was suddenly put out that it was a Sunday for her. Thankfully, Slytherin fifth years had a lovely class gap from Fridays after lunch until mid-afternoon on Saturdays. So he could spend more time idly studying and enjoying the insights from his new spell tomorrow morning before he had to try and focus on the monotony of classes again.

He'd have to be careful though. His first class would be Transfiguration and the last thing he needed was more of Dumbledore's unwanted suspicions. Even if the political tides churning outside of Hogwarts had stolen much of Dumbledore's usual attention this year, Tom wasn't willing to risk his secret being found out.

"I'd like to help her get farther ahead in divination," Flynn said. The words were soft, hesitant even, but the sincerity of them took Tom by surprise and he raised a brow.

"A noble quest," he remarked.

Flynn's expression was solemn but open. "It will be much harder to guide her in the subject once term ends. She seems stressed enough without having trouble with what should be the easiest class on her timetable."

A brief dip into the boy's mind yielded no hidden intentions, only a whisper of genuine affection. A flash of a small girl with dark blonde hair filtered through Flynn's memory while he awaited Tom's blessing. Tom often forgot that Avery had once had a younger sister. The girl would've been two years behind them, just like Hermione currently was.

Abraxas, however, pieced together the reason for Flynn's mood without legilimency. "She reminds you of Florentine?"

Flynn shrugged, his emotions tightly barricaded behind occlumency, even if his memories weren't. "I think her and Tiney were cut from the same cloth, is all."

Tom couldn't relate to the sentimentality of it, especially since he knew Flynn had few memories of his late sister, but the inclination towards helping Hermione conquer obstacles and magical limitations in her path was as familiar to him as breathing. "Then I suppose you should ask her if she'd like further instruction," he said neutrally. "Though I doubt she'll refuse. She's been awfully frustrated with herself over her perceived lack of ability in the subject. I'm rather convinced that's not her problem at all, however."

Flynn nodded once, then cast his gaze back at his books. "Thank you."

"Just wait until after she does her combative practice," Tom said. "I already told her we'd be running through all the spells she's learned recently again, to make sure her precision and mastery is still intact before we teach her anything darker." And I want to watch you both piss yourselves, he thought to himself with a small smirk.

Hermione's lunch period went by smoothly, at least until a fuming ginger chose to sit across from Hermione and Harry, his face nearly as red as his hair.

Hermione's expression would've told him who the new brat was even if his obvious family origins hadn't.

"Ronald," she said archly. "What have you come to whinge about now?"

"You keep your bloody beast locked up, Hermione!" The boy shouted. "He was trying to attack Scabbers in the common room again! I watched him! He chased him down the stairs and kept hissing and growling at him even after I scooped him up!"

Hermione glared at him. "Which staircase was it? Because Crookshanks doesn't leave my dormitory without permission. He naps while I'm in class. I don't let him prowl until dinner."

To Tom's delight and confusion, the Weasley boy grew more flustered. "What does it matter? Your beast attacked Scabbers and I have witnesses!"

"Because Scabbers has no business in the girls' dormitory, just like Crooks has no business in the boys'?" Harry snapped. "What the hell, Ron? Just cage him up during the day."

"I did!" Ron whined. "Her stupid cat must've let him out!"

"Or your stupid rat figured out how to unlock his cage," said Hermione. "Crookshanks is very well behaved. He wouldn't be attacking Scabbers unless Scabbers invaded his territory."

"The hell is a rat doing going anywhere near a cat's territory anyway?" Abraxas muttered. "Can't it smell a predator? And who actually gets a rat for a familiar when witches are so keen on their cats?"

"Idiotic children," Flynn said. "His mother must not know he acts this way. Mine would kill me."

"He used to be their friend," Tom said. "Apparently he's always made fun of her intellect and when she accepted her sponsorship, it seemed to tip him overboard. He's been excessively rude to her since the end of last term and tried to be a sneak about keeping his family from inviting her over for the summer. Despite ensuring Harry was invited. They found out about the plot though. Harry chose not to go at all and they spent their summer together without his company."

"Did they have any other friends to spend the holiday with?" Flynn asked. "Or were the rest affiliated with this welp?"

"She'd befriended Draco by then," Tom said. "And we were working on freeing Harry's wrongfully imprisoned godfather. Boy's an orphan and lived with his mother's sister. Dove says they're the worst sort of muggles. They spent some time at Malfoy Manor waiting for his godfather's release then spent the rest of the summer together with him."

"What about her family?" Abraxas asked. "Did they not miss her?"

"I presume so," Tom said. "She speaks very fondly of her parents but they had some business obligations this summer and encouraged her to do whatever made her holiday happiest. Their work kept them from seeing her off when term started though. Apparently, older me managed to get her excused for a day to see them, after the dementor attack."

Both of their heads snapped up. "Dementor attack?" they asked simultaneously.

"When the hell did she get attacked by a bloody dementor?" Abraxas asked.

Flynn had gone pale with building fear and rage. "Does Dumbledore just outright try to off students in the future?"

"It was during the train ride at her start of term," Tom told them. "Her parents' travels prevented them from seeing her off, which she was upset over, and Harry was distraught as well considering he'd just gotten his godfather back and then had to separate from him again. My theory is they lured the dementor into their compartment. Thankfully, she managed to cast a patronus and her new Defense professor chose to ride the train with the students. Not that it mattered much. I still had to take care of her and imbue the chocolate they'd given her with a bunch of healing spells once she made her way up here. She still hasn't been acting quite right since she returned."

"Lingering side effects?" Abraxas guessed. "That's odd after more than a few weeks unless she's still exposed to them often."

Tom shrugged. "I'm still sorting out what her problem is," he admitted begrudgingly. Failure had never sat well with him. "Some things seem to help, but today is the brightest spirits I've seen her in since she was a second year. And I have a feeling she's a natural occlumens to some extent. She's much more reserved when I see her than she has been with her friends."

"We'll sort it out," Flynn muttered. When Tom's attention was fully returned to the end of Hermione's squabble with her rude housemate, Flynn shared a glance with Abraxas.

I know, Abraxas mouthed. Later.

The unimpressive Ronald Weasley continued to make snippy comments and glare daggers at Hermione even after a Gryffindor prefect threatened housepoints if he didn't settle down and stop disrupting dinner. Hermione ended up taking a bowl, filling it with vegetables and chicken, and rising from the table.

"Have fun at practice, Harry. I'll see you later," she said, kissing his cheek in farewell.

Ronald's nose wrinkled. "You two are pathetic. Just bloody snog already, everyone knows that's the only reason Harry would put up with you anyway."

The insinuation froze the three Slytherin fifth years just as much as it stilled Hermione.

"Hex him," Tom said softly. Ice rolled off his tongue. "Dove, hex him."

But she didn't. Her hands trembled, anger and embarrassment colored her cheeks, but she didn't reach for her wand.

"You are dead to me, Ronald Weasley," she hissed as tears built in her eyes. "Don't come to me for help with anything ever again."

Before the boy, startled by her ferocity, could respond, Hermione grabbed her bag and fled the Great Hall, her bowl of food forgotten. They just caught the sound of Harry shouting and one of her prefects demanding an explanation from Weasley before she exited the hall entirely.

A/N: Hi! So yeah I know, we're not upstairs in the ROR yet, and I know we all wanna meet the boys directly, but um, plot invented itself here. But I swear to Merlin, Salazar, and Morgana that NEXT chapter she'll make it upstairs.

Anyway, you guys are awesome. I know I've been bad about replying to reviews/comments lately but I stg at least half of that is me trying not to accidentally spoil anything since I'm currently writing things that are 40k words ahead of what's posted, so like, I constantly forget what's happened for you guys already.

Don't forget about my socials (which are on my profile, I'm primarily on twitter and tumblr). If you think social media is boring, well, I lowkey befriended the Canadian turbo tax account today just by making jokes that they interacted with, so...I'm not saying you're wrong, but sometimes hilarious nonsense happens when I'm sarcastic on a public platform.

Love you guys, stay safe this mercury retrograde. It's been a wild one already. And for any of my NA/USA friends who are also in the path of this snowstorm nonsense, stay safe and warm and whatnot, alright? Mind the roads, keep the spare blankets handy, and candles nearby. Charge extra batteries for phones and such. Hopefully, it turns out to be milder than it looks but I'm seriously considering not going to work tomorrow considering the sleet is supposed to start during my shift. Like hell am I dying trying to get home when everyone else on the road is also panicking trying to get home before it gets worse...

I digress. Stay safe and warm. As long as my power doesn't go out, if I do wind up leaving work early or whatever, then at least I'll have more writing time ;) xoxo