Hermione's smile widened with every line Slughorn wrote on the blackboard. The Potions professor, who was even more dedicated in this time, had obviously made it his mission to challenge his students even more in the new year. And so, after a detailed introduction, he first wrote the list of ingredients on the blackboard without revealing the name of the potion they had to brew today.

"You know what this is going to be?" Tom asked her quietly.

Hermione nodded without looking at him. "Do you know?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tom look at her for a long time before folding both hands on the table. By now she knew that this harmless gesture was one of his ways of suppressing his dissatisfaction. He replied cooly, "I have several potions in mind, but I can't be sure until he's written down the last ingredient. It would be foolish to make a guess just yet."

Now she turned her whole body towards him with a broad grin. "Unless you don't have to make an assumption, you know."

"Hermione," Tom growled with a threatening tone in his voice. "Are you trying to provoke me?"

She shrugged and turned back to the front. The last few weeks since the beginning of 1945 had gone so smoothly that a small part of her actually felt the urge to cause a little excitement - in whatever form. She knew she shouldn't tease Tom, but at the same time she couldn't bring herself to be really afraid of him anymore.

"Well, dear students," Professor Slughorn addressed the class and turned round with a flourish. "Who can tell me what potion you are going to brew next?"

Hermione's hand immediately shot up, followed by Tom's hand, which was barely slower. A knowing smile played around Slughorn's lips as he gave the rest of the class a chance to speak up as well. When they didn't, he turned to Hermione and Tom, who were sitting in the front row, their hands in the air as if even reporting was a competition.

"Tom?" the professor asked his favourite student.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione lowered her hand while her neighbour announced loudly, "We're going to brew the Polyjuice Potion."

"That's absolutely right," Slughorn said happily, clapping his hands. "One point for Slytherin."

He turned back to the blackboard and wrote the name in curved letters above the list of ingredients before giving the usual explanation of the brewing process. Tom next to her, meanwhile, looked at her sharply. "And you knew that before he'd finished the list?"

Smiling, Hermione propped her head on one hand. "You want to hear a funny story about that?"

Tom shrugged as if he didn't care, but Hermione was aware that this obvious expression of disinterest was only to cover up the fact that he really wanted to hear it. Without waiting for his response, she began, "I brewed the potion successfully in my second year."

Now she had his full attention. Instead of continuing to pretend to listen to Slughorn, he leant towards her and stared into her eyes. "You're seriously telling me that this difficult potion is being taught in America in the second year?"

"No," she replied immediately as she straightened up to at least pretend to look up the instructions in the textbook. "I was never taught it in class. I brewed it on my own in secret."

"Why?"

Hermione bit her lip briefly to stifle a laugh. Tom's voice was still so emotionless that she could imagine how much he was boiling inside. "I suspected someone of committing a heinous act. But since he hated me, I could hardly ask him myself. So I gave someone sleeping pills, stole their hair, and pretended to be them to find out what I wanted to know."

Without batting an eye, Hermione withstood Tom's intense gaze. As if searching for an answer in her eyes, he looked at her until he finally sank back in his chair, shaking his head. "Sometimes I forget that you're in Slytherin for a reason, my heart. What a cunning plan that works mainly because no one expects a second-year witch to pull something like that off. Did you find out what you wanted?"

Hermione's grin gave way to a genuine smile. It was so strange, and yet by now so typical of Tom, that he didn't question her genius. It touched her that every time he doubted her, it only took him a moment to remember that she really could do more than most. When he asked, however, she could only shake her head. "Not really. Or rather, let's say that the accused's reaction made it clear that he wished he had committed the heinous act. But he wasn't behind it, which obviously pissed him off."

Of course, she hadn't heard Draco's words herself at the time, but had only been able to rely on Harry and Ron's account. But with everything that came out later, she knew that Malfoy had never been behind the opening of the Chamber of Secrets. It had been Ginny who had been obsessed with Riddle's diary.

Tom Riddle's diary.

While Tom got up to fetch the necessary ingredients for them both from the storeroom, Hermione remained paralysed in her seat. How could she have been so blind? She knew that Myrtle was already dead and that her death had led to one of the first Horcruxes. She knew that Tom had already spoken to Slughorn about Horcruxes. Why had it never occurred to her that Tom must have his diary somewhere, which was a Horcrux?

She looked thoughtfully at the exceptionally handsome young man returning to her seat with a basket full of ingredients. If Harry had seen this version of Tom back then, it was no wonder he hadn't harboured the slightest suspicion at first. Charming, articulate, and helpful, he was also handsome and well-groomed on the outside. It was no wonder that Ginny and Harry had thought him harmless.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts as she methodically took the individual ingredients from the basket and lined them up on their table. Tom raised an eyebrow questioningly, but she just shook her head a second time. Of course he noticed that she had been somewhere else for a moment, but she couldn't possibly tell him that story.

Before he could follow up, Slughorn joined them at the table. "I see you recognised the potion too, Miss Dumbledore. Have you brewed it at your school before?"

Hermione was about to reply when Tom beat her to it. "You won't believe it, Professor, but she has actually brewed it successfully before."

"Oho." The older wizard was now leaning on her table with interest and scrutinising her. "Was this potion on your curriculum before? Were your classmates also able to brew it?"

She shot Tom an annoyed look before endeavouring to make her cheeks flush. "Now good Tom has got me into trouble. I don't want to lie to you, Professor, but I don't want to talk about past misbehaviour either."

To her surprise, a deep, hearty laugh rang out from Slughorn. Conspiratorially, he leant lower towards her. "We are all Slytherins here, Miss Dumbledore. Your secret is safe with me."

From the way Tom's fingers suddenly tightened around his quill, Hermione realised that she wasn't the only one who felt Slughorn's statement was out of place. If he hadn't been her teacher, she would have interpreted this harmless sentence as an attempt at flirting. Endeavouring to appear similarly relaxed and jovial, she explained, "I wanted to know something from someone who didn't want to tell me. So I secretly brewed this potion and pretended to be his best friend."

Slughorn's laughter grew louder, causing the other students to look over at them. "My dear, that is truly a marvellous story. What an imaginative ruse. And don't worry, your uncle will never find out about it. My lips are sealed."

He winked at her once more before tapping the table, turning round, and strolling off to join other students. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Slughorn is too nice," Tom hissed at her as soon as the professor was out of earshot.

"You don't have to tell me," Hermione whispered back, annoyed. As if it was her fault that the wizard was behaving so strangely.

Tom sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry I snapped at you about it. I saw how uncomfortable you were. Did you do anything to invite that behaviour?"

Wide-eyed, Hermione stared at him. "Invited it? Tom, he's older than my dad!"

Tom raised both hands in defence. "I didn't mean it like that. But you can't deny that your American upbringing has caused you to be misunderstood in the past."

Groaning, Hermione buried her face in her hands. She doubted that Slughorn was the least bit interested in her in that way. He was just a middle-aged wizard who only knew how to have conversations with witches where he could show off his charm. Why was Tom suddenly acting so territorial?

"Let's just start the potion, Tom," she instructed him gruffly.

Shrugging, Tom followed her instructions. After the last few weeks had been so uneventful, she suddenly seemed to be in a lot of trouble again. Should she try to get Tom's Horcrux? Should she find out if there really wasn't more to Slughorn's kindness?

She suppressed a groan. Although she had been here for so many months and the time of her return was getting closer and closer, she still had no idea why she was here at all. What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to achieve? Was it really just a coincidence that they were going through the Polyjuice Potion now of all times, which had reminded her that Tom had already created a Horcrux? Should she do something with the diary?

But even if that was the case, what exactly was the plan? By the time she travelled from 1998 to the past, the Horcrux already was destroyed. It no longer had any effect on the battle or Voldemort. Or had she only stumbled across it because it was about Horcruxes in general? Thanks to Harry, she knew how to destroy these dark objects, but nobody knew how to create one. Should she ask Tom about it?

He had caught her with a book on the Dark Arts at the very beginning, which also dealt with Horcruxes. Should she just try to broach the subject? But he had already reacted almost paranoid when he had discovered this very book in her hand.

Sighing, she set about crushing the horn of a bicorn that would be added towards the end of the potion. Tom, meanwhile, set about stewing the lacewings, as this process would take three weeks. He worked intently, but she could feel that he kept glancing at her. He wasn't done with the subject, even if there wasn't actually anything to discuss.

A glance around the room showed her that all the other students had also started their initial preparations. Concentrated silence dominated the classroom while Slughorn disappeared behind the current issue of the Daily Prophet. Her gaze lingered on Abraxas, who looked towards her at the same moment. She was just wondering whether she should give him a smile when he averted his eyes again. As if he wanted to avoid her. As if he didn't want to be caught looking at her.

She looked back at her pestle thoughtfully. Did she just imagine it? Her last interactions with Abraxas had been normal, even if he was now much less secretive about how much he liked her. Did he just not want to be seen looking at her in public? Was he afraid of Tom again?

She glanced over her shoulder again and once more she caught the blond boy looking at her. There was something in his gaze that she had never seen before. An alertness that testified to the high intelligence he usually knew how to hide. A shiver ran down her spine.

What was Abraxas looking for?