Hermione's mind was a blur of possibilities. The results of her experiment could be staggering, could change the very nature of how people viewed magic—

Well. Maybe not. Most people didn't really care what magic was, only that it worked.

Fine, Hermione huffed to herself. She could be staggered by her own results, then, even if nobody else would care…

Hermione had asked Blaise and Draco for help obtaining all the supplies she'd need. She'd tried to explain her vision to the two boys, only to have them both laugh and agree to get the supplies no matter what she needed them for. Copper and tin were cheap, but it was harder for Hermione to get than gold and silver, which she had a a steady supply of at Gringotts.

Once again, Hermione mentally thanked Gringotts. Her friendship with the goblins was invaluable, really, in carrying out all she wanted to do.

Bloodthorne had been particularly helpful lately. When Hermione had asked Bloodthorne for good places to buy purple gemstones, he had scoffed and quizzed her on her needs, before assuring her he would source high-quality, genuine gemstones for her from the Goblin Horde, so she wouldn't need to waste her gold on flawed gems human salespeople would try to convince her to buy for inflated prices.

She'd gotten an owl only a week later, advising her to stop back at the bank to pick up her goods, and she'd been excited to see the bounty Bloodthorne had gathered for her – cut tanzanite, alexandrite, and purple sapphires, cut to the sizes and shapes she wanted. He'd also included the singular ingot of osmium she'd asked for, which was much heavier than she'd expected – but luckily, that's what Feather-Light charms were for.

Weirdly, Hermione thought she'd earned some respect from Bloodthorne in asking for the raw materials she wanted to make a piece of jewelry. Hermione rather thought she was cheating, asking for a pure element made from the Philosopher's Stone so she could just free-transfigure it into the shape she wanted, but how she made a piece didn't seem to matter to the goblins – what mattered was she was going to create something made from the metals of the earth with her own two hands. Bloodthorne had even advised her on her circlet sketch, advising her to wait and 'let the metal speak to her' as she crafted her piece. Hermione wasn't sure what that meant, but as she couldn't exactly start until she had her materials anyway, she was amenable enough to the advice.

As it happened, though, osmium was very difficult to free-transfigure, harder than gold and much harder than silver or copper. Hermione imagined it was because of the density of the metal – which had been why she wanted it in the first place. She'd taken to carrying around a small hunk of it to practice reshaping when she was bored—

—such as now, as she listened to the Wizengamot argue over the status of vampires. Someone in the Minister's office wanted to reclassify them as 'beasts' instead of 'beings', and apparently, such a reclassification would have far-reaching effects and implications, all of which the Wizengamot was happy to yell about and argue over for three hours.

She did need the practice, Hermione figured, manipulating the tiny piece of metal on her desk as Era Hornbeam stood up, yelling about the revolt they would face from the vampire clans and the blood that would rain down upon the Ministry.

After all, Fleur would be coming with the Beauxbatons brigade, and that was coming up quickly – already less than a fortnight away.

"The idea is to do something that looks like Dark magic, but isn't," Hermione explained to Tom and Voldemort in the Chamber. "Something that they'll never have seen before."

"That will be very difficult, considering they study Dark magic," Tom commented. "Again."

At Tom's command, Hermione turned away, waited a moment, before tossing her hair and giving Tom her best suggestive look. Tom laughed.

"You look deranged," he said cheerfully. "Try again – this time, don't open your eyes so wide."

"You said my eyes should be bigger," Hermione complained, turning away.

"Not literally your entire eye," Tom clarified, amused. "You want your pupils to be bigger. It will subconsciously make people think you desire them, and people desire those who make them feel desired."

"Oh, brilliant," Hermione huffed. "Just somehow change the amount of light entering my eyes so my pupils are bigger…"

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave Tom another sultry look. Tom nodded, tilting his head.

"Better," he said. "Maybe more heat in your gaze. It really is in the subtleties, you know."

Hermione sighed. "I know."

"You could just frighten people into respecting you instead," Voldemort commented, from the side of the room. "Instead of this 'I Feel Pretty' nonsense."

Hermione shot Voldemort an incredulous look. Voldemort, a Sondheim fan?

"You would say that, given you don't really have another option," Tom shot back, sneering at Voldemort's waxy face. "Hermione's fifteen. She can't just go around terrorizing people into submission. At least, not yet."

Voldemort scowled and rolled his eyes, sitting back. Hermione looked him over, thoughtful.

"How would you impress the Durmstrang students, if you were me?" Hermione asked. "I need to figure something out. They'll be here by Halloween."

"Sexy look, Hermione," Tom chided. "Stay focused."

Hermione turned away before turning back, attempting another seductive look at Tom. Tom frowned.

"Try to focus on what you find desirable about your target," he advised. "Arousal and attraction naturally open up your pupil. If you don't find anything desirable about your target, use your imagination to prime yourself before you give them a look."

Hermione sighed. "Right."

"I would put on a grand display of necromancy," Voldemort announced, utterly ignoring the lessons. "It would be a twisted parody of Flitwick's inane dancing skeletons he does every year – I would manipulate the students' skeletons into dancing while still in their bodies, terrifying them into a macabre waltz."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Is that possible?"

"You are making this harder than it needs to be," Tom complained to his older self. "She needs to focus on good thoughts, on arousing things, not on manipulating skeletons inside of live people."

Hermione closed her eyes to focus, mentally picturing Tom and allowing herself to fantasize – Tom moving forward to embrace her, cupping her cheek, leaning forward to capture her lips. She felt her cheeks heat, but she let the fantasy play out a little more. Tom was attractive, after all, and he knew how to use it. She might as well use him.

"Hermione. Again."

Hermione turned and gave Tom a seductive look. This time, it came easier, more naturally – her eyes were already more heavily-lidded with desire, and when she looked at Tom, it was with heat in her gaze, her eyes lingering on his lips and eyes.

Tom looked surprised, then broke into a smirk.

"Much better," he praised. "A little blunt, but there's a time and place. Once we firmly get a sexual gaze down, we can scale it back to seductive and suggestive."

"Wait, so that was too much?" Hermione faltered. "I thought it was good."

"It was good, but it was a little blatant," Tom said. An amused smile played around his lips. "Maybe a little less fantasizing before you turn, mm?"

Hermione's face flamed and she turned away. "I need to take a break."

"Excellent," Voldemort said, his eyes glowing red. "Now we can discuss your necromancy display for—"

"I am not controlling people's skeletons," Hermione snapped. "I don't know how, and I'd probably be arrested. People would think I'd done a mass Imperius or something."

Voldemort scoffed. "That's not possible."

"I know, but do you trust the Aurors to know that?" Hermione shot back. "How much of a grounding in the finer details of Dark magic do you think they have?"

Voldemort looked mollified by this, but now Tom looked thoughtful.

"If they're arriving on Halloween…" He trailed off. "Samhain is a holiday with necromantic legends. The boundaries between worlds thinning, the souls of the dead visiting." He sighed. "Pity your Light necromantic ritual only powers up on Beltane."

"So you think my coven should figure out some sort of necromancy ritual that's not Dark?" Hermione said, frowning. "That's… I mean, I could try…"

"Or," Voldemort drawled, bored, "you could use the Resurrection Stone."

Hermione and Tom both turned to stare at him.

"I'm sorry, the what?" Tom asked pleasantly. "For a moment, I thought you said Resurrection Stone."

"It's not true resurrection," Voldemort dismissed, picking imaginary lint from his robes. "But it does call shades from those who have passed, if you call upon them." He paused, frowning. "It's from the Tale of Three Brothers. I don't remember when I originally read that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tom said, "so clearly, I haven't read it yet."

"Oh no, of course not," Voldemort said immediately, agreeing. "I know we didn't read it in school. If we had… well…"

"Well, what?" Hermione said impatiently.

Voldemort's eyes gleamed.

"Well, I would have realized the Resurrection Stone was embedded in the Gaunt House ring," he drawled. "Given that, I probably wouldn't have made it into a horcrux. If I'm being direct."

Hermione stared.

"So you're saying," she said slowly, "that if we accelerate the timeline and get Tom to reintegrate with the ring horcrux, I gain access to a powerful artifact of legendary necromancy?"

Voldemort grinned suddenly, startling Hermione. His deranged grin was frightening, honestly, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Now you're getting it," he said, his tone approving and fond. "If you get ahold of that and can use it…"

"Dark magic that isn't Dark magic," Tom said flatly. He sighed. "Guess I should prepare myself for another reintegration attempt then, shouldn't I?"

Hermione bit her lip. "…probably."