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Somewhere in Time	By : serpentinred Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 64474 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 24
- 25
- 26
A/N: Many thanks to my wonderful beta, LSMerlot! Special thanks to my partner-in-crime, Nerys, for checking over things to make sure they’re logical. Huge thanks to those of you who’ve read, rated, especially those of you who have reviewed: Deea101, Mr.Galion, and ViolettMichelle!

Review replies can be found over here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php?showtopic=15710 I totally stole this idea from Nerys, so many thanks to her again!

~-0-~

Chapter 25

When the door clicked close behind the two of them, Draco immediately rounded on her.

"What were you going on about? What do you mean I've 'told him every single detail'?" he demanded.

"It's obvious, isn't it? You've met up with your former master. What's stopping you from joining his ranks again, especially when he's just starting to rise in power? I can't believe I've trusted you and your sneaking, betraying ferret hide!" Hermione spat out angrily.

Draco stood there, taken aback by what she said. He shook his head, and confusion alighted on his features.

"Wait, what made you think that I joined him again?"

"Well, you seemed awfully calm after those supposed rumors spread out. You did not so much as look shocked when you saw him ... him ... what happened in the Great Hall," Hermione said, her cheeks flushing red.

"Oh, so now I'm the one at fault here? Just because I'm a bit calmer than Potter when it comes to surprising events doesn't make me the evil one. If I hadn't known what kind of person you are, if I hadn't known you for seven years and saw your friendship with Potter, I could've even argued that you are the one betraying us," Draco fumed, his grey eyes flashing. "I wasn't the one snogging him behind everyone else's back, Hermione."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth once and then snapped it shut, for she did not know how to defend herself in this situation. It should have been a lot easier to lie to Draco, it really, really should have been, but for some reason, her mind was slowly acknowledging him as a friend, which made the option of lying obsolete.

Since when had she started considering Draco a friend? She had no idea, and it probably should have made her feel worse that she still considered him a friend after believing him a traitor.

His eyes softened a bit, and he heaved a sigh. "Look here. I ... I'm not saying that you're wrong." He frowned slightly. "And I guess I can ... sort of see the reasoning behind your accusations. I probably should have sought you out and asked you about what this whole ... situation is about, but Abraxas has been keeping a close eye on me, most likely on Riddle's orders."

He paused, picking on a loose strand on his robes absentmindedly.

She could not work up her anger again after what he said. He had a point: Perhaps Draco did have a reason for acting the way he did, and she should give him a chance to explain himself. Not that she could trust him wholeheartedly right now, but at least she should give him a benefit of a doubt.

Then again, thinking in retrospect, she had been simply lashing out at Draco because of her bad mood.

"Why?" she asked. Overridden by guilt, her voice towards him became softer.

"He's, of course, still suspicious about us, but ... Hermione, I think he's ..." He stopped in his words again and nibbled the inside of his lower lip while a frown marred his pale face. "I think he's on his way to mastering Legilimency. I think I felt it last night, but I can't be sure. I don't recall reading about how long it takes to master the art."

"It's different for each person. Archelaos the Wise was rumored to master the art within six hours," Hermione sighed, frowning, too.

A strangled noise escaped from Draco. "He's had the books since we've arrived."

"I know."

"... but I never saw him read them," Draco continued in a softer voice.

Hermione stared, realizing the indications this information might or might not have.

"How much ... do you think he knows?" she asked, her voice panicky.

"I don't know. At least I'm pretty sure he doesn't know we're from the future yet," Draco replied, running his hand through his hair. "It's just ... I don't understand it. I'm still thinking that I'd imagined it ... about Riddle performing Legilimency on me, that is. He ... when he did it to me back then ..." He involuntarily shuddered.

She nodded, remembering how Harry was like after the Occlumency lessons with Snape. With her heart speeding up, she recalled the many times Tom had directly or indirectly stared into her eyes. Was he using Legilimency during those moments? She had not felt anything, but that did not mean he had not found information.

Shit, shit, and more shit, Hermione thought with a sinking heart. She could not shake off the feeling that something was awfully wrong with those moments now. Those suspicious smirks every time she turned away or those indecipherable gazes ...

Merlin, of course, she could try to make herself feel better by thinking that he realized she was trying to prevent him from using Legilimency on her. However, they were talking about Lord Voldemort, and Dumbledore himself had said that Tom was a brilliant student. What were the chances that he had not learned it yet?

"Do you think he's just putting the books there as a cover up?" Draco asked.

Well, then we're all officially screwed all the way to hell and back here again, aren't we? Because then he'll know every single thing that happened. And dear Merlin, have we changed the timeline?

Hermione froze as that thought crossed her mind. What exactly would happen if they changed the timeline? There were wizards who had gone back in time and killed their past selves. So time could be changed. The problem would be, how much could be changed before they were wiped off reality? Heaven's sake, had something happened to Dumbledore because they came back to the past?

"Hermione?" Draco called tentatively.

She composed herself and shook her head. "I don't know." She then frowned. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because you happen to know him better than I do."

Her face flushed red again at his statement. "That's not true."

"Come on, Hermione. I was here throughout the whole—" Draco waved his hand to indicate his loss at words to explain her and Tom's situation "—unlike Harry and Ginny. I'll willingly let you Transfigure me into a ferret for the whole day if you haven't been snogging Riddle behind our backs."

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably and did not say anything.

"Although I have to admit that I'm a bit disappointed with you, Hermione. There are so many charming Slytherins out there, and you chose him? Especially when there's a wonderfully handsome, intelligent, and cute Slytherin right next to you? I think that's a worse crime than snogging Riddle!"

Hermione laughed at his statement. "Yes, oh handsome, intelligent, and cute Draco. It really is my loss." When she recomposed herself, she looked at him strangely, "Why aren't you bothered by ... well ... this whole thing?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "We all know how you are. I can't say that I'm particularly supportive of your relationship, to tell the truth, but I don't think you'll actually go and start telling him every single one of our secrets. You ... well, you're just not like that." He paused. "But are you really sure you want to continue on like this? If and when we return to the future ... and when he ... when he dies ..."

She closed her eyes. "I've told him already ... that it couldn't go on."

He stared at her before throwing his hands up in exasperation. "So that was it? So that was the reason he was taking out his anger on me last night?"

She then remembered their conversation in front of the portrait hole.

"What happened last night? Why did you stay up for the whole night?" It then hit her. The fatigue on Draco's face, the fear in his eyes ...

She gaped at him, an image forming right in her mind's eye. The mere thought of it horrified her.

"He didn't."

Reluctantly, he nodded.

"But ... but ... you're still ... sane."

He gave her a sarcastic look. "Thanks for sounding so relieved and worried."

"I mean, if you were placed under the Cruciatus for the entire night ... Neville's parents cracked under the Cruciatus."

He shrugged as a dark look clouded over his features. It appeared that some internal struggling occurred before he finally said, "It's not the first time."

The reality of her imagination froze her right to the core of her being, and the thought of that happening because of her ...

"Oh," was all she could say.

She urged her mind to work, to move, to think, but it literally shut down on her. She did not know what to think any longer. In some other kind of situation, she probably would have felt thankful that she had not seen the darker sides of Tom—yet. However, with her friend (and Merlin knows when that would extend to "friends") suffering under his wand, she could not say that she was not concerned. Frightened. Outraged.

Suddenly, she wished that she were the way she was one and a half months ago. She wished that she had never developed these uncalled-for feelings for Tom Riddle.

But there was nothing she could do, and it made her even more frustrated than before.

"What ... Why did he do that?"

"He didn't say in particular. He asked me the questions from before. Where were we from ... who were we ... and when I told him the same answers, he ..." he broke off in his words. "I think he was trying to loosen my tongue with the Cruciatus. Or, he was trying to make my mental barriers weaker so he could penetrate them with Legilimency ... but again, that's a guess on my part because it happened so many times back then that it could have been just my imagination."

"Then, what does it have to do with me?" Hermione protested, still remembering that he had placed the blame on her.

"Because every other time he Cruciated me was when it had something to do with you," he answered, shooting her an annoyed look.

"It could have been something else that bothered him."

"Oh, please, Granger. Are you going to start with the denial again? It's getting old. He's interested in you, although I can't see why," Draco said condescendingly, observing her from head to toe. "I can't tell you if he has ulterior motives or not though, so you probably should be careful about that."

Hermione ignored his jab at her looks and frowned in thought. He did have a point, but she could not perceive what Tom's reasons were for being interested in her, other than the fact that he wanted to know where she was from.

Could that be it?

She felt a stab at her heart at that thought. Was he really just flirting with her to get information from her?

"I wouldn't dwell too much on it, Granger. I don't think he merely wants you for information," Draco's voice broke off her train of thought.

She looked at him questioningly, and he shrugged.

"If he simply wanted you for information, this doesn't seem like a common tactic of his: to snog the girl into submission." He grinned when he saw the discomfort on Hermione's face.

"Well, I'm sure with Snake-face, snogging wouldn't actually work," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Of course it wouldn't work on others, but it probably would with you," Draco sniggered.

"Oh shush, Malfoy."

"What? Can't think of a comeback, Granger? That doesn't seem like you at all," he taunted. Before Hermione could reply, he continued to say, "But as I was saying, there seems to be something more. If he really, really wanted to, without Sparkly Eyes here, he could've just ... I don't know ... kidnapped you or something and Cruciated the information out of the two of us simultaneously. It's not like the rest of the professors would believe that the innocent and angelic Tom Riddle would do something like that."

Hermione nodded her head slowly, and her heart lightened slightly.

"But," Draco spoke up again. He eyed her carefully, watching her expressions. "Have you told him you're a Mud—Muggle-born yet?"

He sat down in one of the comfortable-looking armchairs and slouched down in it. A wince crossed his face, which did not escape Hermione's notice.

"I thought the Cruciatus didn't leave visible scars," she commented.

"It's not from that. I knocked into one of the tables in the common room," he replied.

Hermione scrunched up her face, and he tilted his head.

"So have you?"

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip some more and shook her head. He promptly let out a short nervous laugh.

"Granger ... Hermione ... do you know what you're getting yourself in?" he asked frantically, running a hand through his hair.

It was such a change from his previous carefree attitude that Hermione gave him her full attention.

"I ..." she frowned, not knowing how she should answer him.

"He hates Muggles. He hates Muggle-borns. I mean ... for Salazar's sake, he hates them even more than Father does, and you know what Father thinks about you and your kind," said he, grimacing at the truth of his words. "If he had the chance, he would destroy every one of them. You saw Aunt Bella. You know what she was like. You do remember when she was holding the Cruciatus on you, right? You remember how she looked at you while you were at Malfoy Manor, don't you? Why do you think Aunt Bella adores him? It's not just because she fancies ... I mean, come on, everyone knows she fancies him, but they have a common goal. Did you actually think Riddle is any ..." He inhaled. "You ... Granger, you weren't there when he killed Professor Burbage ... He ... he ..."

He stopped in his words and lifted his head, looking at everywhere else but her.

"I know he hates Muggles, but ... Draco ... I ..."

She could not continue talking about this. There were no explanations for her to tell him, to tell anyone for that matter. She knew that she had feelings for him. She had reminded herself too many times that this was stupid, to fall in love with the biggest anti-Muggle wizard she had had the pleasure of knowing.

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I'll sort this out. I will, Draco. I just need ... time," she told him softly.

He looked back at her, but this time, she glanced away, unable to bring herself to meet his eyes.

"Besides ... we're returning to the future soon ... Everything ... everything will return to normal."

"When we return to the future," he mumbled, though she clearly heard what he said.

His words were so very true, and from the bottom of her heart, she wished that what she had just promised him would come true, too.

~-0-~

Although Hermione had promised him that she would sort everything out, Draco Malfoy truly doubted it. Although she had attempted to cover up her true feelings for the Dark Lord, he saw the signs like flashing red lights. He honestly wondered how pea-brains and his girlfriend missed it.

Therefore, after his meeting with her in the Room of Requirement, he went around the castle, searching for Evans and Weatherby to at least warn them. Now, it was certainly not because Draco Malfoy thought of Granger as a friend. Definitely not. It was because they were on the same boat now, and either one of them dying would leave the others alone and struggling. Although there were four people in their little group, everyone knew that there were only two brains. He could not let the only other person with intelligence die now, could he?

Of course, after nearly an hour of searching, he very nearly banged his head on the nearest wall out of frustration when he finally found said duo walking through the entrance from the Quidditch Pitch.

"What do you want, Malloy?" Harry asked when he stopped them.

"Why, good day to you, too, Woolly," Draco drawled.

Later on, when he would be thinking in retrospect, he would realize that it was probably a bad idea to talk so impolitely to them when he was trying to tell them something important. However, the words just came tumbling through. Although he did not want to admit it, it was due to the fact that he still did not want to fully acknowledge that he cared about Hermione, a Muggle-born witch and a Gryffindor. His pride and lineage would not allow that.

"If you're here to look for a fight, I'm not in the mood. Let's go, Ginny," the Boy Who Never Knew What Was Good For Him said, stepping to the side and preparing to walk around him.

"So typical of you, Scarhead. Who'd ever told you that I'm here for a fight?"

"Naturally, you're not here for a fight, which is why you start off by being annoyingly rude," Ginny replied.

It was very apparent to Draco that his presence was unwelcomed, but Hermione's look during their meeting was still very much imprinted in his head.

"I'm just stating the truth, Weaselette. Now, I wouldn't have had to take this trip down here to talk with the likes of you if you two were perceptive enough to notice things happening right before your eyes," Draco sneered.

"Says he who's not looking for a fight," Ginny snorted mockingly.

"Look, if it wasn't because Hermione suggested for us to become comrades for the time being—"

"Which is why you should talk to her and not to us because honestly, Malloy, did you really think that we could trust you immediately?" Harry swirled around and cut in.

"You know what, forget it," Draco huffed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Don't come annoying me if Granger becomes too close to Riddle."

"As if you really care about her well-being," Harry scoffed. "If we were really comrades, shouldn't you've looked after her while we were gone? Did you even try to protect her from those Slytherin witches? Oh wait. I forgot. In his presence, you naturally would not do anything."

"Just because I think with my brains instead of my rashness, it doesn't mean I'm joining him," Draco retorted angrily. "Hermione doesn't need protection from those witches. She's more than enough when it comes to dealing with them."

"We didn't think you needed protection when you were around him, but Hermione still insisted on checking up on you to make sure everything was alright," Ginny pointed out.

"That's beside the point, Weatherby," Draco replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Why was it this hard to have a conversation with Gryffindors? Honestly, it was like there was some sort of inherent disability for people in the House of the Lions to hear what others had to say.

Or was it simply limited to Slytherins?

Then again, Hermione was perfectly fine hearing him out.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he thought he saw movement from around the corner. He twisted his neck around to check, to see if someone were there, but after double-checking, he was positive that there was not anyone around except the three of them. Perhaps it was a trick of the light?

Draco swallowed, slightly afraid now that Riddle or his three cronies who had stayed for the holidays would overhear their conversation. Makedon Crabbe and Gerbasios Goyle were not exactly the smartest bunch—like father, like son, Draco supposed—and even if they heard the conversation, they would probably forget eighty percent of what they had heard by the time they returned to the common room. Antonin Dolohov, however, was as scary as ever. The man always freaked Draco out in the future.

"Then what is your point, if you even have one?" Ginny asked, breaking off his train of thought.

Sighing at the obvious stupidity that characterized Scarhead and Weaselette—the former's brain must have been destroyed by those Killing Curses thrown at him while the latter probably did not have enough money to purchase one—he decided to get straight to the point.

"Look, Riddle's taken an interest in Hermione, and I don't think she's really ... that much against that idea," he said. He frowned when realized how ambiguous that must have sounded to the brainless twits standing in front of him, so he rephrased, "Hermione might have ... well ... feelings towards Riddle."

They both stared at him before Harry snorted.

"Honestly, Malloy. You're out of your mind. Hermione knows just as well as we do what kind of person Riddle is. She's not going to fancy someone like that," he said.

"Evans, you weren't—"

"Harry, Ginny, weren't you going to get changed?" a voice called out.

Draco turned around and found Alphard walking up to them.

"Oh," Alphard said when he noticed that the person Harry and Ginny had been speaking to was Draco. "Good day, Malloy."

"Good day," Draco muttered, running his hand through his hair.

"What were you talking about?" Alphard asked, staring curiously at Harry and Ginny.

"He's being stupid," Harry replied, nodding his head towards Draco.

"Oh?" Alphard raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Nothing important," Harry replied, frowning, still in distaste about what Draco had just told them. "I thought we were going to meet in the Great Hall after you got changed."

It appeared that Alphard had been playing Quidditch with the two of them previously but had gone back to change first.

"I was waiting there, but I didn't see you coming for a while, so ..." He trailed off, looking at them apologetically. "I didn't mean to rush the two of you, but lunchtime is almost over."

"Don't worry about it. We were about to go, but he had to tell us something," Harry answered with a smile. "We'll just go change and meet you in the Great Hall."

With that said, Harry and Ginny hurried back to their dorms to change and left Draco and Alphard alone.

Draco dug his nails into the palms of his hands, resisting the urge to shake those two daft Gryffindors walking away. Honestly, it really was a wonder Pothead won against the Dark Lord with that level of stupidity. However, with Alphard around, Draco could not continue voicing his opinions, nor could he tell them why his concerns were not unfounded.

Well, he would have to wait for another chance then, providing he was hallucinating a few minutes ago. If there were a person standing around the corner ... what if it were Riddle himself? With an uncomfortable feeling spreading to the rest of his body, he hurried over to the place where he had seen something move. However, when he got there, he only found an empty hallway.

Well, of course, Draco Malfoy. If it were one of the Dark Lord's followers or the Dark Lord himself, they would be waiting for you to find them, he thought sarcastically to himself.

"Is there something wrong?" Alphard asked, walking up to him.

"No ... no, there's nothing wrong," he replied, his eyes still on the empty hallway as if he could see what happened there merely minutes ago.

"Then, shall we go to the Great Hall and wait for them?" Alphard asked.

Draco nodded, fighting the urge to run for cover, and they walked slowly towards the Great Hall.

"I thought you went back home for the holidays," Draco spoke up, pushing the unease away to the best of his abilities. Although they were not exactly friends, the two of them had always been rather civilized towards one another.

Alphard shrugged. "We went to Australia actually. Walburga—my sister, that is, was being nasty, throwing our stuff out the window because it was 'taking up her space.' So Cygnus and I threw her into the lake near the place we were staying at." He grimaced. "Not a good idea, after all. We thought it wasn't such a big deal since Cygnus and I always went swimming there in the afternoon, but apparently, Miss Black was too ... fragile and weak. She came down with a horrible cold, and some sort of creature living in the lake crawled up her nose and wouldn't come out. Mum and Dad had to take her to St. Mungo's. The vacation was called off as a punishment to the three of us, so Cygnus and I had to come back earlier."

Draco nodded, recalling his Great-Aunt Walburga from his childhood memories. The woman always found something to complain about and criticize.

"So did anything interesting occur while I was away?" Alphard asked.

"Depends on how you define interesting," Draco said with a humorless smile, thinking about what had just happened the previous night.

Alphard bit the inside of his cheek as if something were really, really bothering him before he opened his mouth again.

"You and Hermione ... I know you're friends ... but are you two really close?" he questioned almost timidly.

Draco snapped his head around and looked at him. A strange thought formed in his head. It was impossible, but honestly, did Granger have that many admirers back here in the past? Were these blokes blind or something?

Then again, yes, she did have her own kind of charm, but first the Dark Lord and now Alphard ...

Hoping that he was thinking a bit too much about a simple question, he raised an eyebrow. "We're friends. Nothing more than that." A sly smile appeared and disappeared on his face. "Why did you want to know?"

Alphard glanced away and covered his mouth with a hand, clearing his throat once. "I'm just a bit ... concerned about her."

"Concerned about her?" Draco asked, his eyebrow disappearing even further into his bangs.

"Well ... you know ... about her and Riddle," he said, a frown appearing on his forehead.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, too, obviously feeling lost in the situation as much as Alphard was. He could not deny that he was worried about Hermione becoming too close to Riddle. A Dark Lord wreaking havoc was frightening enough, and he had witnessed first handedly how scary Hermione Granger could become when she was provoked. No, he was very, very worried about the situation right now.

However, he knew that the fewer people knew about what was happening, the better. After all, Riddle was becoming a bit obsessive about who Hermione was dating. It was one thing if Potter got tortured by the Dark Lord—if that were to happen, Draco would have to buy a camera and take down the photo shots. However, Alphard was a fellow Slytherin. There was no point getting him in trouble, too.

Then again, if it were Tom's agenda to zero in on Hermione's boyfriend (and he so wished Weasel King were here), better Alphard than him. Not to mention the fact that if Alphard and Hermione became an item, then he could push away all his worries about the Dark Lord gaining a powerful witch by his side.

"Hermione and Riddle?" Draco asked, feigning surprise. "Did you really believe that? Those were simply rumors. Hermione would never fancy someone like Riddle."

A relieved expression appeared on Alphard's face. "Are you sure?"

Hook, line, and sinker, Draco thought.

"Of course! I've known her for many years already. Although she'd never talk about her preferences in boys, it's pretty obvious that she'll never see Riddle as a perfect match," Draco reassured him. A smile appeared on his face as he recalled facts he knew about Alphard. "She's more interested in blokes who play Quidditch."

Which was not a lie. She did fancy Weasel King, and she did go to the Yule Ball with Krum.

Hopefully, Alphard would pick up on that hint and court Hermione.

"Really?"

"I mean, honestly, she has the brains already, but she's not good with sports. Not to say she doesn't like a man with brains, too, or else she'd be bored to death," Draco said, not worried about Alphard's intelligence at all since the young man was in every single one of Draco's classes. "But it's always nice if the other partner knows something that she doesn't, especially with a know-it-all like her. She's really, really bad when it comes to flying."

Come on, pick up on the hints!

"Oh, I see," Alphard replied, a smile spreading across his face. "That's good to hear. For a moment, I thought ..."

"No, no, don't worry at all," Draco waved away his words. "Trust me. Hermione does not like Riddle and would never like him."

Alphard seemed more at ease after this reassurance, much to Draco's glee, and when they reached the Great Hall, Alphard joined him in sitting at the end of the table. As more students filed into the room, Draco could not help but remember the ominous feeling he had gotten, the feeling that someone had overheard their conversation while he was talking with Potter and Weasley.

He glanced over at the other end of the table where Riddle and the other Slytherins were sitting. Dolohov was sitting right next to him, but they did not seem like they were chatting. That calmed Draco down a bit, though he could not be sure if Dolohov had told Riddle something already.

"Harry, I was in the library. Madam Pince was in there," Hermione hissed as she sat down beside Draco.

"Yes, but still," Harry whispered, a stubborn look on his face that was mirrored on Ginny's features.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Apparently, Pothead and Weaselette had taken his words to their hearts, though they had not shown it.

"I'm starting to regret telling you everything, Harry, because I seriously do not see how going to the library would endanger me," Hermione said heatedly, her cheeks flushed with anger.

Draco nearly rolled his eyes and mentally sighed to himself. Trust these two to botch everything up. Stopping Granger from going to the library was one of the worst tactics in trying to "keep an eye on her" because she would undoubtedly fight tooth and nail against that idea. Anyone with the smallest bits of intelligence would have known that after staying in her presence for an hour.

"Hermione—"

"Harry, how many times do I have to repeat myself? I'm not going to suddenly drop dead," she seethed.

"Unless one of the books or bookshelves decides to attack her in the middle of the library," Alphard joked. "Or if she tries to vandalize one of the books there and Madam Pince decides to deal with her. Personally, I think one would suffer a much more horrifying death doing the latter."

Hermione snickered at his words, though her posture was still rigid from her conversation with Harry and Ginny.

A small smile appeared on Draco's face, noting the somewhat positive progress between Hermione and Alphard.

"Why do you think she would suddenly drop dead? I'm assuming you're worried because of the rumors, but it's not as if those Slytherin girls are actually overly abundant with magical powers or something. Hermione was handling them pretty well by herself before you came back," Alphard commented. "The hexes she threw at Iris ensured the fact that Iris wouldn't be trying to curse her anytime soon."

"Would the two of you just let the subject drop?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

It seemed as if Harry still wanted to argue, and Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her seat. However, after some internal struggling, they finally nodded.

The rest of the meal went by without too much fuss, and all in all, Draco was rather pleased with himself when he saw Hermione and Alphard chatting animatedly.

Very pleased.

~-0-~

After spending some time with the others, Draco returned to the Slytherin common room, feeling that his day would have been better spent finishing his holiday homework. Nonetheless, it was at least amusing to see Harry and Ginny sharing worried glances behind Hermione's back. They nearly jumped when Hermione told them she was going to the library to finish her Transfiguration essay, and it was not until she reminded them that Alphard was there, too, that they relaxed in the slightest.

Muttering the password to the stone wall, he walked through the hole and entered the Slytherin common room.

A shiver ran down his spine when he saw Riddle sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, those long-fingered, pale hands leafing through a tome. Calming himself down, he reminded himself that Riddle had not so much as glanced at him throughout lunch. Although, he momentarily wondered how the "reading in front of the fireplace" look could appear so hilariously innocent on Hermione, but so ... menacingly foreboding on Riddle.

Swallowing hard, Draco walked swiftly towards the dorms and was about to set foot on the staircase when the eerily soft voice of Riddle sounded throughout the room.

"Draco."

The blond froze in his steps, not sure of what to do, the memories from last night clearly replaying themselves in his mind, and his behind still hurting very much from the impact against the table. The difference between today and last night was the fact that Draco had not felt it coming today.

And Draco knew that Riddle was at his most dangerous when he spoke in such a friendly way.

"Why don't you join me?"

~-0-~
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Somewhere in Time