Tom Riddle was thrilled to see her, pulling her into her fiery mindscape as soon as she penned Hello Tom to the page.

"I worked as quickly as I could, and it wasn't hard," he told her. "Ginny was worried I'd told you everything she'd told me, including her stupid crush, and she poured out her heart." He smirked "I knew the faster I got her to attack, the faster you'd realize it was Ginny who had stolen the diary back."

"You couldn't just make her give the diary back?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"Doesn't work quite like that," Tom said, smirking. "Not without me draining all of her life force, at any rate. Her subconscious was more resistant to the idea of giving you the diary back than it was to attacking someone."

"Your plan certainly worked - she got the Muggle Studies teacher, this time," Hermione told him. "The school was in an immediate uproar, the Ministry removed the Headmaster, and I chased down Ginny in the chaos." She folded her arms. "Why, though?"

Tom looked at her. "Why what?"

"Why try to ensure the diary got back to me?" Hermione wanted to know. "Surely it would have been simpler to just send the basilisk after me. I'm the only one who knows what you are."

Tom regarded her carefully.

"I considered it," he admitted. "But I dismissed it in an instant. There were too many variables – Ginny would fight it, you know Parseltongue, I didn't know if you'd told anyone else, and so on. Besides…" His eyes glittered, the fire from the lava river illuminating his dark eyes. "You're my best chance of ever getting out of this place, Hermione."

Hermione scoffed. "Let you out? Yeah right."

"You say that now, but you wanted my blood earlier, didn't you?" Tom said mildly. "I need a body to bleed, Hermione, even if it's only temporary."

"It was just one idea," Hermione argued back. "There are so many moving pieces that I have a million ideas in my head. It's worse because I still haven't managed to formally bond with my coven to settle my magic, so the ideas all still spiral around and around and around."

"It sounds awful," Tom mocked her, and Hermione glared.

"Killing your stupid basilisk is going to be the easy part," she snapped. "The hard part will be setting someone up to take the fall."

"Well, at least Dumbledore's out of your way," Tom said, examining his fingernails. "Without him at the school, I daresay the burden of proof will be much easier to achieve."

Hermione hesitated.

"Okay, that's a good point," she conceded. "Still, though—!"

"You could even fake a Horcrux to destroy," Tom pointed out. "Without Dumbledore there to verify, having any old Dark object steeped in my blood would give off enough of my magical energy to fool most people—"

"It would?" Hermione was surprised. "Wait. Our blood gives off our magical energy?"

"It's more your blood absorbs the Darkness of your magic," Tom equivocated. "It's not like you could trace a magical signature from someone's blood, but you could tell if they had cast Dark spells or not. Very few wizards can recognize magical signatures by blood, and generally only those of those they are close with, but Dumbledore happens to be... particularly aware of mine."

"That's fascinating," Hermione said, eyes wide. "Can you tell by blood if someone has cast Light magic?"

"No idea," Tom said dryly. "The point is, if you get a Dark object and steep it in my blood, and if it's accidentally 'destroyed' before Dumbledore gets a full chance to fully examine it..."

Hermione bit her lip.

"I don't just have Dark objects just lying around," she objected. "I have books, and they just talk about Dark things."

"You could make one though, could you not?" Tom said, raising an eyebrow. "You and your little coven."

"I could, but I won't," she argued. "I'm not making a Dark object just to frame someone."

Tom sighed.

"I am plagued by your odd morals," he said. "If not a Dark object, why not a Dark mark?"

Hermione gave him a look. "What's that? Dark runes on a parchment?"

"No, Hermione. The Dark Mark." He looked annoyed. "The skull and snake Voldemort put on his servants?"

"Wait, what?" Hermione said. "Voldemort marked all of his servants?"

"Unless something significantly changed from the time I was 16, yes," Tom said mildly. "I spent ages sketching it out and working on it. It was to give me a way to summon my servants to me within moments, and a way to force them to keep faith with me, marked as they were."

Hermione began to laugh.

"I bet you didn't plan on falling," she said, smirking. "If you marked all of them, it must have made the Ministry's job easier, rounding them up."

Tom scowled. "If you didn't know about the mark, maybe it wasn't used, then, or maybe it was never discovered on their arms."

Hermione considered that.

"That's fair," she admitted. "The Ministry seems largely incompetent. I wouldn't be surprised if no one thought to strip-search Death Eaters as they were sent off to Azkaban."

"Death Eaters?" Tom brightened. "Is that what my followers are called?"

"That's what Lord Voldemort's followers were called," Hermione said pointedly. "You called yours what, the Knights of Walpurgis?"

"At least I came up with a better name eventually," Tom shot back.

"On that we can agree," Hermione said, smirking. "It's even thematically appropriate with your own. Flight from death, eaters of death…"

"Oh, be quiet," Tom said, rolling his eyes. "Back to the point – you could transfigure a pendant of the Dark Mark and steep it in my blood and plant it on your target. Just make sure basilisk venom touches it before Dumbledore sees it."

"Oh, yes, just casually arrange for the thing to be destroyed right after people see it with basilisk venom," Hermione said. "Because that's easy."

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you were the best in your year and destined to carve your own path," he said mildly. "Are you really going to flinch because something's not easy?"

"Of course not," Hermione groused. "I just don't want to mess it up."

"Then don't," Tom advised, taking a seat on the river's edge. "Make sure your plot is bulletproof. Now, tell me…" His eyes gleamed. "Who have you chosen as your victim to frame?"

As Hermione chatted with Tom, gradually sketching out a framework of a plan and beginning to fill it in, she reflected that if she had to plan how to frame someone for opening the Chamber of Secrets and setting a monster loose on the school, at least she was getting advice from the person with the most experience in such matters.

As Hermione had predicted, strict security measures were rapidly put in place. All students were to return to the House common rooms by nine o'clock in the evening. No students were to leave the dormitories after that time. Students were escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student was to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches were postponed. There were to be no more evening activities. All other travel around the castle still needed to happen in pairs.

This time, the Slytherins were the only ones who fought against the new security measures. The other Houses seemed severely cowed in the face of an attack on a teacher, and they were willing to do anything that might keep them safe.

Hermione was having none of it.

"This is ridiculous and will help no one," she informed her coven in the library over lunch one day.

"It helps the teachers feel like they're doing something," Susan pointed out. "That helps at least somewhat, doesn't it?"

Blaise smirked. "Yes, let's make the useless feel useful. That's bound to help."

"I was only saying…"

"At least no one's saying I'm the Heir anymore," Harry said. "They're all looking at Slytherin again. Apparently, the Muggle Studies professor got into a fight with some of the older Slytherins for lingering in the hall the day before, so people think maybe the Heir is one of them."

"Oh?" Luna said airily. "How interesting. What a coincidence. I wonder who it was."

Hermione gave Luna a look before turning back to Harry.

"Harry, I—ah, I would like to borrow something from you," she said. "Do you think you can slip it to me during class tomorrow?"

"Depends how big it is," Harry said, frowning. "And probably only during DADA. I wouldn't risk anything getting seen and confiscated in front of Snape."

"I suspect no one would see anything," Hermione stressed, "but I understand your point."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh," he said. "Okay."

The five worked in the library the rest of the lunch period, researching what they would need for their ritual before Madame Pince escorted them back down to the Great Hall, scowling all the while.

"Can't just eat lunch like everyone else, can you?" she groused.

"We're forbidden from being out after classes, ma'am," Hermione pointed out. "When else are we supposed to use the library?"

Madame Pince continued to grumble to herself the entire way down.

Harry came through the next day, slipping her the Invisibility Cloak the next day when Lockhart wasn't looking. He was busy prattling on about the clan dynamics of vampires in Eastern Europe, how they differed from the vampire clans of Scandanavia, and how he'd heroically encountered both threats in his many travels. Harry grinned at her as he slipped her the cloak.

"Should I ask what you need this for?" he whispered.

Hermione offered him a sheepish grin.

"Best not," she advised.

Harry smirked and shrugged, and Hermione smiled to herself. It was nice to have friends that trusted her and her intentions unconditionally.

She wasn't sure she could ever do the same.

Hermione used the Invisibility Cloak ruthlessly over the next couple weeks. She constantly crept into the library at night for research, reading up on the things she would need to know as she began to weave her plots together. There were so many threads that would need to be tied up, and Hermione didn't want to leave any of them dangling in the wind.

While she was at it, she also researched Professor Dumbledore. She was curious, if nothing else.

It was interesting, to read about Dumbledore. She'd known that many people claimed he was 'the greatest wizard to have ever lived', which seemed a bit much. His accomplishments were numerous – from prizes and accolades while still in school to being given an Order of Merlin, First Class for his defeat of the Dark Lord Grindelwald in 1945.

After that, though, it was interesting to track Dumbledore. He seemed to actively avoid positions of great power, from looking at his history. He'd been offered Minister of Magic several times, turning it down each time. Hermione knew if she was ever offered Minister of Magic, she would take it in a heartbeat; the fact that Dumbledore did not was odd and suspicious.

What was Dumbledore's game?

He seemed to try to keep out of the public eye, but he was still largely revered as the best wizard alive. His opinion was constantly sought. He stood as Supreme Mugwump to the International Confederation of Wizards, as well as Chief Warlock to the Wizengamot. And of course, he was Headmaster at Hogwarts. Dumbledore was clearly comfortable with some level of power, but not with being Minister. Was he only amenable to it if there was a collective to share the weight of decisions?

Or did he prefer to influence the future through the students, molding minds while they were young?

Annoyed with the lack of public appearances by Dumbledore since his big duel with Grindelwald, Hermione moved on, mentally noting the list of his achievements as a student in order to beat them as she continued researching in the dark.