A/N: Right so y'all know I don't normally do author's notes at the top of chapters but there's something I need to address so I'm giving you the heads up here, that way you're prepared for the full one at the bottom. Please enjoy the chapter and thank you to those who read my A/Ns. I know they can be annoying when they're long, but I try to make sure they're important/concise. xoxo

Tom hadn't slept well in days. It was a fact he mostly kept hidden from Hermione, whose brow creased with worry when they'd meet in the Room only to find that he was still a subdued version of his usual self. Abraxas and Flynn had caught on to the fact that he was not sharing this particular issue with the witch, though Flynn had bravely suggested he change his opinion.

"If anyone has the power to put you to rights, it's her," he said.

Tom scoffed at the idea. What could she do to banish the memories she brought to the surface in the first place? Not that he'd ever shared his past with anyone, nevermind the boys. All they knew was that he couldn't sleep.

"She's got plenty of unnecessary things to worry about without adding a brief fit of insomnia to the list." It was a true counter-argument and Flynn had dropped the subject immediately after hearing it. Tom was too tired to be more than passingly annoyed that he'd suggested the idea in the first place.

Tom floated through his day grateful that he had no classes and that he'd get a break from Abraxas and Flynn. The latter had Care of Magical Creatures and both knights had to complete assignments that had been pushed aside in favor of lessons with Hermione. Tom had already excused himself from working with them, preferring silence and the potential to reduce his sleep deficit since his work was caught up already.

The problem was that he only slept in relative peace when he fell asleep keeping an eye on the third-year who'd given him the nightmare issue in the first place.

Half the time he wasn't even properly paying attention, just listening to her chatter with her friends, or murmur to Harry when they were in classes, or talking to her cat before she went to sleep herself. He hadn't heard or noticed anything he thought was important enough to write in one of his journals, but for some reason, the witch who'd triggered his turmoil was also the only thing he'd found to ease it.

He almost hated her for it. Almost because he felt an extra jolt of discomfort in his chest at the mere thought of downgrading her to Flynn and Abraxas' rank, and the thought of lowering her any further than that step down made him outright nauseous. She was too valuable to demote. Too breakable to crucio , though he doubted casting the spell on anyone would give him the same rush of power and stability he longed for. Not like it normally would.

There was an itch under his skin that only Hermione's company could soothe. And despite how much he rejoiced in finally having a near-equal amidst his Knights, it still annoyed him that she was the balm capable of soothing his discontent.

At least, she was until he caught up on sleep and tucked the memories away again.

Tom trudged upstairs to the Room of Requirement after failing to fall back asleep in the dorms despite the quiet. If anyone came looking for him, he'd rather they be unable to find him than for someone to discover that he'd found a way around most of the privacy ward restrictions imbued into the beds. Avery and Malfoy he could live with. They knew how severe the punishment would be if anything directly linked back to them impacted his chances of getting Head Boy seventh year.

The boys knew where to find Tom when he was seemingly unfindable as well. Just in case Slughorn asked about him.

When he opened the door to the Room of Requirement, he hadn't expected the changed environment. Then again, he hadn't been thinking about the study space he shared with Hermione. He'd been thinking about somewhere that would give him a chance to sleep or to easily keep an eye on Hermione if sleep didn't come.

The Room had presented him with a small space that was roughly the shape of a quarter circle, except it was very short and all the walls were rounded to some degree. On the narrowest end was a section made almost entirely of cushions, complete with pillows and a blanket. The rest of the space was made up of blank black walls and floors. Only a small lamp beside the cushioned space provided any light.

He moved over to the cushioned area, finding it spacious enough to lay his bag down and still have room to stretch himself out comfortably. The cushioning on the walls was soft enough to sink into, but didn't fully collapse under his weight. He could recline comfortably and still see the slightly rounded walls around him.

Would his surveillance spell even look right on these walls? He was curious to find out, though he was mostly disinterested in whatever wonderment and revelry Dove and her friends got up to in Hogsmeade. He needed a proper, uninterrupted sleep more than he needed to know whether or not she found amusement in the village by means that differed from his own.

Though, if she wrote him complaining of boredom, he did hope his favorite haunts would still be present in her time. Just in case she needed to escape the bulk of her classmates crowding the streets.

He yawned, sinking a little further into the cushions, and cast vigilio servo .

Hermione and Harry were arm in arm, laughing and making a game out of kicking up leaves as they strolled down a side lane in the village that Tom normally didn't frequent himself. The wide clumsiness of their kicking strides would cause them to topple onto the leaf-coated cobblestone soon if they continued getting carried away.

The absence of their Slytherin companions made Tom sigh, though the action was interrupted by a strong yawn, and he realized how much he was growing to dislike seeing her in her false-houses colors. He knew they didn't teach magical color theory at Hogwarts in the future but she would surely feel stronger in silver. Slytherin had aligned his family with green in part to honor his Irish origins, but Tom knew the secondary colors of each house were also important. They represented the type of magic each founder held in high significance and subsequently, the role of magic they infused into their parts of the curriculum, back when the Founders were the only professors.

Gryffindor valued combative magic in all its forms and Transfiguration. Gold magic was usually seen in familial protective magic, aligning the color with noble magic. Much like the art of dueling was once considered: a noble sport or means to address a conflict in upper society.

Ravenclaw held a deep respect for all knowledge, though Charms, Divination, and the Runic Arts were her keenest subjects. All of which allied themselves to her magical focus of choice: Creation and spell development.

Hufflepuff favored Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, with a healthy respect for Potions given her foremost subject. Black was the only true neutral color of the lot, representing the value in communal and healing magics, which were often colorless spells. Tom always supposed that she hadn't chosen white to represent this neutrality because then the house colors would have been painfully bright to look at, rather than just being boldly sunny. But he'd never know for certain.

Slytherin was of course aligned with Potions, Advanced Magic and Rituals – now known as the 'Dark' Arts – Magical Theory, and Arithmancy, though Ravenclaw had shared a love for Arithmancy as well. Silver had always been the rarest color to appear in magic, making its significance far higher than gold. Almost exclusively seen when two individuals of perfect magical compatibility or alignment came together, silver magic had once been considered the only true marker of possessing pure magic. Slytherin had, naturally, encouraged his flock to settle for nothing less than these unions to result in the most magically capable offspring.

Despite what wizarding Britain thought nowadays, he did not mean for wizards to shack up with cousins and dismiss outsiders. Some of Slytherins journals even noted the occasional Muggleborn discovering a silver-magic connection to a half or full -blooded wizard, as they'd originally been known. Tom's ancestor had even detailed his elation when another new family line was coming into their world, expanding their population, and his hopes that one day the wizarding world would be far more than the disorganized cluster communities of yore.

Sadly, it seemed most spells still in use that could reveal a silver-magic connection were all embedded into courtship and marriage practices. Certain formal waltzes, rituals, and things of the like would allow the strength of the two participants' magics —their compatibility magically speaking, at least— to become visible for a time. Similar forms of magic were required if one deigned to bind two compatible magics together.

And Tom had already stated his opinions on marriage thoroughly to Cherie whenever she saw fit to remind him that Hermione was a treasure of a witch .

He knew she was irreplaceable, he wasn't a simpleton , but she was a far softer heart than he would ever be. A marriage bond purely for the sake of combining their magics would never appeal to her. He wouldn't be surprised if she one day happily consented to marrying a wizard less powerful than herself simply to marry for love of all things. But until that day and the witch or wizard who would eventually catch her eye came along, Tom had her company more-or-less to himself. Yes, he had to share her with her friends, but when their schedules aligned, she was usually in the Room working away by his side.

He didn't even mind sharing his sofa with her when the boys joined them. Sometimes it was pleasant, having her closer. His right hand witch should be the only one in his personal space and she should belong there, rather than aggravating him like everyone else did by encroaching on his personal bubble.

Tom yawned again, his eyes watering so fiercely they stole his vision, blurring the colors of Hermione's Hogsmeade afternoon into a mess of grays and dark oranges until he wiped them clear again.

He needed to sleep.

But Dove was smiling and laughing with her friend, her other orphan, and somehow the sight was keeping him awake. It made his thoughts spin.

Why are you different with them? he wondered, not for the first time. It was one of the many thoughts plaguing his mind during his more restless nights. Questions he knew she wouldn't answer truthfully.

He didn't like her keenness for hiding things from him. If she was going to help him take control over Britain, and maybe the world, then secrets between them should be minimal to nonexistent.

Unfortunately for Tom, he didn't understand her mind any better than he understood the recent whirling of his own thoughts. Even Flynn and Abraxas were surprised when he withheld the protection necklace, but Tom couldn't fully explain why he hadn't given it to her yet. He certainly would've preferred to already have her linked to all the protections they'd poured into the blasted thing... But something had made him hesitate.

Something told him she would fight him over it. And if she fought him, she'd try to take it off.

He didn't want her to know about the charms preventing anyone but himself from removing the necklace once he put it on her. She'd throw a fit, he was certain of it. But he couldn't risk her forgetting to wear it and getting attacked by Pettigrew. She would probably take it off on occasion even if he told her not to…

He glared at her image on the wall. Keeping one third year girl out of harm's way had no business being this difficult of a task. Then again, Hermione was involved, so he really shouldn't have expected any less of a headache. She was a Slytherin hiding in Gryffindor of her own free will. He was shocked she didn't fumble her way into trouble more often. Although given most of her trouble this year revolved around a temperamental ginger brat and dementors , he'd count his blessings that she hadn't already gotten herself bloody killed .

Still, the choice to wait with her protection necklace was gnawing at his mind almost as persistently as the echoes of his childhood at Wool's — incessantly and unreasonably. But he only had a cluster of too-short weeks left to try and teach her how to protect herself against a threat they knew almost nothing about. While also preparing for his O.W.L.s, which he now had cause to worry about considering he couldn't bloody sleep.

With a sigh of frustration, Tom burrowed deeper into the cushions.

Maybe if she'd follow instructions like the good little witch she'd been when they met, he'd be able to rest easier. Except that wouldn't work either. He hated when she got mousy and quiet. It was the balance of deference and challenging his judgment that made her company enjoyable. She thought for herself but knew when to rely on his mind instead.

No wonder he was starting to suffer from headaches. She was quickly becoming the physical embodiment of one.

He began to doze, not quite fully drifting to sleep but not quite awake either. At one point he blinked at the walls, eyelids uncomfortably heavy, and saw that Draco had joined them, flanking Hermione's left side.

Good , he thought. You two need to stick with your own.

Before he could even consciously decide to start focusing on the conversation the three were having, Tom started to slip back under the haze of sleep. For a while, his rest was peaceful.

But then the memories came.

"Granger! Potter!"

Breathless from laughing harder than they should've been, Harry and Hermione stopped trying to kick leaves —and trip each other while doing so— to turn around and find Draco strolling down the lane towards them.

Draco's deep green Slytherin scarf contrasted harshly with his overall paleness as he wrapped it more snugly around his neck. "Nott and Davis won't stop arguing. Fancy some company?"

"I suppose we can take pity on you just this once, Malfoy," Harry said.

Draco flipped him two choice fingers. "Thanks, prick."

"Will the other Slytherins give you shite for being with us if you're seen?" Hermione asked.

Draco scoffed. "I've taken to reminding them that you're both tied to the political faction my grandfather helped Riddle create. That tends to shut up the dumb ones. The smart ones have decided it's a shame neither of you were sorted into Slytherin."

"So… we might be welcomed warmly when we switch then?"

"Considering house points are secretly linked to the students who earned them as well as the house they were earned for? I'd assume so," Draco said with a chuckle. "Any house points you've earned will follow you to Slytherin. The house cup is Slytherin's until we graduate once you two switch houses."

Hermione glanced at Harry and raised her brows. "I think I just discovered his true motivations for wanting us to switch houses."

"I thought the quidditch cup had something to do with it," Harry said with false-aloofness.

"That's contingent on you still wanting to play quidditch when you switch houses," Draco deadpanned. "You've had mixed feelings about it this year so far. I didn't want to presume, especially since you'd be joining a team full of former rivals."

" You're my former rival, Draco," Harry said dryly. "I think I'd manage unless the rest are genuinely a bunch of prats."

Draco grinned. "It'd be better if Avery was captain instead of Flint. Avery's not even playing this year, formally anyway. He's backup keeper, I think, but he absolutely hates Flint and has seemed content to focus on being a prefect."

"Is he going for head boy?" Hermione asked.

"I'm planning to, Granger."

The three glanced to their right, finding the Slytherin prefect in question making his way down a narrow lane between two cottages. Floren wore an easy smirk despite some of the tension in his shoulders.

"Hiding from our housemates?" he asked Draco.

Draco shrugged. "Tracey and Theo need to kill each other or snog, whichever shuts them up faster."

Floren chuckled and fell into step beside Harry. "I don't even think Tracey's realized she fancies him, yet. And Nott's oblivious but I think that's due to the overwhelming annoyance they encourage in each other."

"Aren't you scheduled to help chaperone?" Draco asked.

"Nope," Floren said, popping the P . "I help chaperone the next one. Figured I'd find you crazy kids and see if you wanted some butterbeers on me? Assuming you haven't already been to the Three Broomsticks."

"We haven't, " Hermione said, sharing a grin with the older boy. "Lead the way?"

Floren winked at her and Hermione did her best to ignore the heat in her cheeks. "As you wish, M'lady."

For a brief moment, Hermione entertained a fantasy where she was a year ahead and in her proper house. Despite being the eldest in her year, she doubted the handsome fifth year would be interested in a third year. Assuming he found her as nice to look at as she found him — which was unlikely even with her hair in a manageable state thanks to her birthday presents from Tom.

As the afternoon carried on and Floren continued to linger, teasing them and explaining the history of the little village to Harry and Hermione, she cursed her busy schedule and personal preferences.

She just had to like dark-haired, former quidditch playing, Slytherin prefects, didn't she? So long as she could keep Tracey from finding out this one, Hermione wouldn't have to suffer being teased while this crush ran its course…

A/N: Okay, beginning of this is house keeping, last bit is the usual touching base, happy stuff, but please read the whole thing. I don't like long A/Ns either, but we need to talk about this for a minute.

This is the guest review I got from "DogwoodSlytherin" on 8/17/22:

"I'm on chapter 14... PLEASE Update in the next two weeks so I don't have to abandon this fic. I WILL steal your story and continue it. Consider it a threat. :( 3"

Now. There's a bit to unpack here. (let me also say that since this was anon, I deleted it with content moderation, but the screenshots/proof of it are on my twitter and I still have the initial notif email as well.)

I'm gonna preface the rest of this with: I'm assuming this is intended as hyperbole and a joke, but on the off chance that it isn't, let me make myself perfectly clear:

If you're gonna guilt trip me to update, leave. I'm not writing this fic for you. Move along. And I'm not talking about the "please update soon!" or "I can't wait for the next update!" reviews. Those are not this passive aggressive and tiresome BS. Y'all know the difference. If this weird rude nonsense is how you feel, PLEASE abandon my fic. I do not need or want you here.

Second. Lolololol. Okay yeah you'll steal my fic idea I've worked on for 6 years (since first posting) and 8 years total (two years before posting). Best of luck with that considering you can't also steal my 12 spreadsheets, dozens if not hundreds of docs of notes, and PILES of handwritten notes and outlines. Honestly. This isn't cute as a joke and while it's hilarious *to me*, threatening plagiarism is not the flex you think it is and it's also not a joke.

"Consider this a threat." Consider THIS a call out.

Now I'm almost done so bear with me, friends. Some of you are on my socials so you've seen the screenshots of this review when I got it etc. And you know I had been trying to update for DAYS, nevermind that I was actively in the process of finishing my final read through on 42 (so I could post the update) when this review came in, and honestly it made me so tired. I updated on AO3 the following day, but I didn't update over here. Why? I was contemplating never updating over here again.

There's a massive cultural difference between FFN and AO3. I started over here when I was still single digits (that account no longer exists) so when I got used to AO3 I wanted to cross post over here. However, there's definitely an entitlement complex and this weird abundance of people reviewing gross passive aggressive and manipulative shit to try and get authors to write things how they want. For every 20 BS reviews I get over here, I get maybe one over on AO3, and at least over there comment moderation makes sense so I can just laugh and delete the comment. Over here, that functionality doesn't exist, and I'm SO TIRED of doing the extra work of double posting when this kind of behavior is so damn common. This is MY story. I don't HAVE to write it. I can write it however *I* want to and if the choices I make in this story don't vibe with you, that's a shame, but the back button exists, bestie. Thanks for vibing with us while it lasted.

As of right now, I'll probably delay FFN updates going forward, like I did with this one. But I might stop updating here entirely after chapter 50 and only post on AO3 from 50 onward. I haven't decided yet. It's possible I might not change anything at all. But I'm definitely thinking about it. We'll see how I feel going forward.

***For everyone who doesn't behave like an absolute clown on this website***: I love and appreciate all of you so very very much. I do not want to punish the many for the actions of a few, which is why I'm updating today at all. And I'll let you guys know whatever I choose to do before it goes into effect.

NORMAL A/N UPDATES:

Hiii...lol. How are we, besties? I finished 55 on Aug 17th and I'm hoping to make progress in 56 today. I'm excited for this chapter and it should be fun to write. I've got a rough outline through 64, so hopefully getting the backlog up to 20 chapters deep will happen sooner than later so I can post whenever I've written a 21st chapter, or biweekly, or whatever works out.

Don't forget to come see me on twitter (AT mulattokitten) and tumblr (littlemulattokitten) even though I'm mostly on twitter these days.

As for this chapter, it was a fun one when I was writing it lol. Poor Tom, the clueless lil bean.

Love you guys, as usual. See you next update!

xoxo ~LMK