AN: So here we are, five months later… All the usual suspects kept me from writing: work, school, writer's block. You know the drill. Anyway, hope you enjoy this new chapter. I'll try not to take as long in the future, but who knows what'll happen. Thanks for reading!

Electra hadn't been joking about the birthday party.

Despite saying multiple times that such a frivolous gathering was the last thing she wanted in the middle of such a stressful and important mission, the evening of September 19th, 1942 found Hermione standing awkwardly in her fake cousin's classroom as dozens of new acquaintances congratulated her on coming of age while she pretended to be excited and graciously thanked them.

It was a nice enough party, from an objective standpoint. Electra had vanished all of the desks in her classroom to make space for the guests to mingle. She'd covered the walls with silver and green decorations to honor Hermione's "house", and the effect was rather beautiful, if not an obnoxious reminder of her unwanted situation. The large storage room attached to the classroom, recently cleaned out by Orion and Lestrange, now held a large buffet laden with all sorts of hor d'oeuvres solicited from the house elves. Electra had enchanted a few string instruments to play softly in the background and had somehow scrounged up enough presents to fill a whole table in one corner of the room. Really, for anyone else, it would have been a nice birthday party.

The only problem Hermione had was that the people attending were the not her friends and this was not her seventeenth birthday. But her protests had been ignored and it was too late for anything to be done about it, so she had to grin and bear it as well as she could. Electra had insisted on inviting the whole of Slytherin House from fifth year on up, as well as many members of other houses. Hermione hadn't even met over half them, let alone knew and liked well enough to want them at her birthday, even if it was a sham. And yet, here she was, making small talk with the Hogwarts students of the forties.

Slowly but surely, she was coming to terms with the fact that this would be her life now, whether she liked it or not.

Currently she was stuck between Slughorn, who had naturally found a way to invite himself, and a pair of seventh year Ravenclaws who were asking about Electra's "accomplishments" and quickly getting annoyed by Hermione's purposefully vague answers. One of them was in the processes of attempting to grill her about the particulars of a spell Electra was known to have used in Greece when a loud exclamation of delight from their professor interrupted them.

"Oh, would you look at that, Tom has arrived!" Slughorn said cheerfully, gesturing towards the door. Indeed, through the crowd of shifting bodies Hermione was able to make out the increasingly-familiar head of dark hair attached to Slytherin's most notorious Prefect. And as if tonight's mood wasn't already sour enough, he seemed to be heading right their way.

Hermione quickly gulped down the rest of her punch and then made a show of frowning at the empty goblet. "I'm sorry, but I need to refresh my drink. If you'll excuse me." Before Slughorn or the Ravenclaws could make any move to keep her there, she'd slipped away. She weaved in and out of the clusters of partygoers, keen to avoid an encounter that was sure to leave her even more on edge and frustrated than she was already.

She managed to evade him for a good twenty minutes as she flitted from conversation to conversation, trading greetings and compliments and trying to at least pretend she was having a good time, all the while hyperaware of a certain pair of dark eyes that seemed to follow her every move, but never quite managed to catch up with her as she'd move away every time he managed to get close. After she'd made the rounds and talked with nearly everyone in the room, she was actually quite thirsty, so she ducked into the side room to refill her punch.

To her surprise, it was currently empty of other occupants. She couldn't help the slight sigh that escaped her lips when she realized that the game was finally up and she'd have to have the conversation she'd been avoiding. He'd surely not pass up the chance to corner her when she was isolated like this and lacking any new people to hide behind. And then—well, that was just it; he wouldn't do more than simply talk with her, and somehow, that made it all worse.

After the incident in the hallway and her talk with him, things with the Knights had cooled off. Orion Black and Emmett Lestrange would still throw her a nasty look every once and awhile, but other than that, they mostly left her alone. It was their leader whose behavior now concerned her the most. For some unfathomable reason, Tom Riddle had decided that he wanted to chat with her. On a regular basis. And even worse, all he ever wanted to talk to her about was school.

There were no more subtle attempts to ply her for information, no more veiled threats or derisive remarks, only discussions of their most recent lectures and homework assignments. Yesterday, he'd even offered to read over her next potions essay and give her constructive criticism, and due to what she'd promised him when they'd made their little agreement, she'd felt compelled to politely accept the offer. At first, she'd been sickened by the thought of having a casual, friendly relationship with this boy who would turn into such a vile monster to the point of being physically ill. But as it had continued, she'd found herself growing used to it. Numb, almost. She'd yet to decide which reaction was preferable.

She still found herself waiting for it to fall apart, for him to snap. Did he know that he was slowly driving her insane with his lack of threatening behavior? she mused. Perhaps that was his intent, to turn her into a paranoid mess before doing whatever nefarious deed he truly wanted?

Well, whatever it was, he was highly unlikely to try anything in the middle of her birthday party with dozens of other people in the next room, and so while she wasn't looking forward to this interaction in the least, Hermione steeled herself for the inevitable as she refilled her goblet with the sweet red punch Electra had ordered.

The door creaked open behind her and the sound of steady footsteps reached her ears. She heard him clear his throat, quietly but nonetheless demanding attention. Forcing a neutral expression, she turned around.

Riddle was standing a few feet away from her, smiling that chilling grin that never reached his eyes. He'd dressed up for the party, wearing pitch black dress robes that made the paleness of his skin stand out in sharp contrast. As always, his hair was perfectly styled. When he spoke, his words were wrapped in honey, although underneath she could make out sharp notes of command. "You look lovely tonight, Miss Temple."

She plastered on the fake smile she'd been wearing for most of the evening. "Thank you, Mr. Riddle," she replied, hoping her voice wasn't too tight. At Electra's urging, she'd donned an elegant champagne colored dress cut in the latest forties fashion for the evening. Her usually bushy hair was swept up into an elegant bun and adorned with a diamond comb that Lucretia had given her that morning. Since her dress didn't have any pockets, Electra had suggested she stick her wand into her bun as well, and a simple spell ensured it could be removed without compromising her hairdo. A persistent Des had even persuaded her to do some light makeup. While Hermione did think she looked quite nice, taken altogether, she did not appreciate the fact that Tom Riddle had noticed.

"It's quite the party," he said, gesturing towards the other room. "Your cousin is a talented hostess."

"Indeed she is; she'd be quite pleased to hear you say that," Hermione responded while clenching her fist tightly around the stem of her goblet. It was all she could do not to scream at just how mundane the conversation was.

He quirked an eyebrow. "And you've been a most diligent guest of honor, as well. You must have exchanged pleasantries with every single guest by now, even the ones whose names you can't possibly know yet." His tone was playfully mocking, but there was still some measure of annoyance in it as he added, "every single guest except for me."

"I assure you, that wasn't intentional," she replied in a voice that was completely unconvincing to the both of them. However, he seemed to be in the mood to humor her and changed the subject.

"Are you ready for the Arithmancy exam on Monday?" he asked as he came over to stand beside her and acquire his own goblet of punch.

School. Again. She repressed a sigh and said, "I think so. And you?"

"Yes, I was reviewing what we did in class last week and I found a few places where I could use improvement, but I think all in all I understand the new material well enough…" He went on for a little bit as she smiled tightly and forced herself to listen politely.

Who knew that making small talk with the notoriously-charming Tom Riddle would turn out to be so dull? It wasn't as if she hadn't seen him dazzle other Slytherin girls with wit and flattery, but for some reason, he hadn't tried to do that with her. Perhaps he realized it would have little effect. But that didn't mean she only ever wanted to hear about his opinions on their curriculum. He was supposed to be a genius, it would be nice to have a discussion on advanced spells or magical theory with someone who could keep up… No, she didn't, she chided herself; she'd rather not have to talk to him at all.

She responded to his speech when necessary, and when she finally felt she'd fulfilled the social obligation to interact with him, she softly cleared her throat and began inching towards the door. "Well, it's been lovely catching up, but I should probably get back out there. Electra wouldn't be happy if she threw this wonderful party for me and I spent the whole night hiding away."

Persistent bastard that he was, he followed her back into the main room and seemed determined to continue their conversation. "Are you looking forward to the upcoming Quidditch match?" He asked, matching her pace and remaining right next to her.

She glanced at him suspiciously. Now that wasn't quite schoolwork related…. "Not particularly," she said honestly. She only ever liked watching Quidditch when someone she cared about was playing, and since the match was Slytherin vs Hufflepuff, she had no attachments to any of the players. In fact, she had a mild, unspoken hope that the Slytherin team would lose, since she'd surely have the pleasure of watching Riddle's followers sulk about it for weeks.

"Not a Quidditch fan, then?

"Not really." She's started weaving in and out of the crowd again, looking for someone, anyone else to talk to.

"And yet you'll suffer through?"

She shrugged. "I can bear it, if I have no other option." Maybe she would try to find Des and Lucretia again? They'd probably be able to get Riddle to go away.

"Oh really?" He stepped in front of her so he was suddenly blocking her path. She had to stop in her tracks to avoid walking into him. "Then perhaps I have an idea."

She realized that he wasn't going to let her alone without getting through whatever this was, so she resigned herself to finishing this conversation and took a sip of her punch. "Do you?"

He smirked. "Indeed. I myself am not that fond of the sport, and would rather do anything else with my Saturday morning than sit in the stands going deaf from the ruckus and watching our housemates fly back and forth across the pitch chasing balls like a pack of dogs. What say you and I don't go to the match?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. What a strange invitation. "Are you asking me to… not go to the Quidditch game, with you?"

"I'm suggesting that you and I might find a more valuable use for our time then, and that we might find it… profitable to do something in each other's company."

"Profitable."

He shrugged. "It's merely a suggestion. I wasn't going to go anyway. And if you aren't either, then we could work on an essay, or study. Or not. It's up to you."

"I'll… Think about it," she finally said. Belatedly, she added, "thank you."

Riddle smiled in response. "You're very welcome." She couldn't help but read a bit of smugness in his voice. Ugh. Yes, she was cooperating with him, but not because he was tricking her! She was tricking him! She briefly wondered what it might be like to throw the rest of the punch in her goblet on his head. It would ruin his perfectly styled hair, and his horribly self-satisfied grin…

To resist the temptation, she quickly drowned the rest of her drink and then made a show of dramatically frowning into the empty goblet. "Would you look at that, I'm out of punch again. I'd better go get more. Enjoy the party!" She turned abruptly and slipped back into the crowd, and thankfully, this time, he let her go without following.

The rest of the night seemed to drag on endlessly, but eventually it grew close to curfew and people started to funnel out of the room. Prompted by a stern look from Electra, Hermione continued to play the dutiful birthday girl and tried to thank everyone for coming as they left. Finally after all the guests had gone and it was only her and Electra left, Hermione started inching towards the door to make her own exit. "Well, it is getting late, I suppose I should be getting back—"

Electra stopped her with a shake of her head. "I have something I need to show you first. It's in my office."

The dark-haired witch swept past Hermione and out of the room without looking back, expecting her to follow. Hermione groaned, but she didn't see any reason not to follow her aside from simply not wanting to, and if she let herself use that as a reason, she'd never get anything done in this time period. They made their way down the hallways until they'd reached Electra's office. Once they were inside, Electra walked over to her desk and leaned on it while Hermione stood awkwardly in the center of the room.

"Tell me, dear, how have things have been going lately? In terms of your mission, that is."

Hermione stared at her. She wanted to talk business? It was already past curfew! After a moment of gritting her teeth, she replied, "Well enough, I suppose. The Knights of Walpurgis have backed off a bit. I think they're afraid of getting more detentions with you. And Riddle… he's, well, young Voldemort. But that's nothing new."

"What have you found out about what they're up to? Do you have any sense of how close he is to opening the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Not really," Hermione admitted, shrugging. "It's not as if I can follow them around waiting for them to drop hints about their nefarious plots. Anyway I've been spending a lot of time with Lucretia and Des, and Myrtle Warren—"

Electra's expression became rather severe and she cut her off. "You're not in the forties to socialize, Hermione. There's so much going on, at such a grand scale. The world can't afford for you to be distracted. I need you to promise me that you'll remain focused from now on—"

"Yes, Electra, I promise!" Hermione snapped, loudly tapping her foot to convey her impatience. After the long night of cooperating with Electra's whims and playing the part of her happy cousin, she really wasn't in the mood for a lecture! "Look, if this all you wanted to talk about, can Igo back to my dorm now?" Godric knew how desperate the situation must have been for her to actively wish to return to the Slytherin dorms, but she could only put up with Electra's insufferable manner for so long!

"Really, Hermione?" Electra looked at her with wide, earnest eyes. "Do you swear it?"

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, sure, I swear it!"

Electra set both her hands on her desk and leaned forward, staring at Hermione with an intense fire burning in her eyes. "Do you solemnly swear it?"

Hermione blinked. She hadn't heard what she'd thought she'd heard, had she? Electra didn't… She couldn't…

They stared at each other in silence for half a minute. Then, as she watched, Electra's serious expression melted away as the corners of her lips slowly crept upwards, her eyes dancing with sudden mirth.

Hermione finally said, hesitantly, "You… You don't mean…" Electra started snickering, and Hermione gaped at her, her eyebrows knitting together. "Don't tell me you've somehow—"

Electra's threw back her head and closed her eyes, giving way to a full-on fit of laughter. "I've been waiting all week for that one!" she said between gasps. A few tears had leaked out of the corner of her eyes and she wiped those away. Then, without any further ado, she reached into one of the many stacks of papers on her desk and pulled out an old and yellowed piece of parchment. A parchment so familiar that the sight of it caused a whole lot of emotions to well up in Hermione: nostalgia, for the times in the past that she'd used it, a touch of grief at the loss of those times, those people, and mostly, a whole lot of relief.

"That's the Marauder's Map!" she said, finally matching Electra's grin with one of her own. "You've gotten the Marauder's Map!"

"Happy Birthday, Hermione!" Electra said, smiling smugly and holding the map out to her.

Eagerly, Hermione stepped forward and took it. She unfolded it with one hand while fumbling to pull her wand out of her hair with the other, then setting the tip against the paper. Here she paused, looking up at Electra once more.

"Why give this to me, though?" she asked uncertainly, furrowing her brows. "Why not just keep it?" Why even tell her she had it? "With this, you could keep on eye on everyone in the castle at once. Riddle, the Knights, the other professors…" Me, she added silently.

Electra shrugged. "Well, so can you. Just as easily as I could. And I don't… I don't need to do everything, Hermione," she said, her voice becoming quieter. "I don't want to. This thing we're doing, it's us. I want you to feel like you have a part in it. An important one, that involves your own actions and decisions . And besides…" she looked down at her desk and softly murmured, "Harry Potter probably would have wanted you to have that map."

Hermione silently chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before muttering a quiet, "thank you." Then, she swallowed once and straightened her posture before declaring loudly, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

A spiderweb of black ink spread from her wand tip and spanned across the parchment, revealing the network of corridors and rooms that made up Hogwarts castle. As the map appeared, she searched it for the dots of people she knew—there was Gryffindor tower, Augusta was sitting by the fire with Ignatius Prewett and some of the other sixth years… Dumbledore was speaking with Dippet in the Headmaster's office… Alphard was pacing around his Common Room, hopefully not plotting anything, the bastard… and there she was, "Hermione Granger" standing next to the dot labeled "Electra Temple".

This… this was a godsend. For one thing, having the map in her pocket would help ensure that something like that fiasco of a duel from two weeks ago would not happen again; she'd be able to see any ambush coming. Because while she had her agreement with Riddle, she didn't quite trust him or his followers not to try something like that again, deal or no deal. Plus, if and when Riddle opened the Chamber this year, she could keep an eye on Myrtle and make sure history played out differently this time. In one moment, her whole outlook on her time travel had completely flipped.

She looked up again and saw that a satisfied grin had spread across the other witch's features. "Is this a good birthday present?"

Hermione found herself smiling back as she muttered the phrase to wipe the map. After a moment she replied slowly, "While it's stillnot technically my birthday… yes."

Electra's grin widened as she bent down and started rummaging through her desk drawers. "Not your birthday? What a shame; I guess I'll have to enjoy this all by myself, then…" her voice trailed off as she pulled out an expensive-looking bottle of firewhiskey.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and Electra winked. "I didsay we'd celebrate properly, did I not?"

"That you did," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "But you're my professor, and this is a school. Should you really be offering me alcohol?"

Electra just smirked. "I'm the cool young professor, excuse you, and your legal guardian as far as this time period is concerned. Besides, you're of age now, and what Dippet doesn't know won't hurt us," she said as she summoned a pair of shot glasses and wandlessly directed the whiskey to pour.

"I was of age before," Hermione pointed out.

"Still." Electra picked up one of the glasses and moved it so the amber liquid swished around, and then held it up. "Let's toast?" Once again, there was a strange look in her eyes. Eager, almost hopeful. And what with the… moment, or whatever it was that they'd just had over the map, Hermione didn't have the heart to turn her down.

She sighed and took a step closer to Electra's desk and set the map down before taking up the other glass of whiskey. "What are we toasting?"

Electra beamed. "To the future!"

Hermione shrugged. "Sure. To the future." She clinked her glass with Electra's, meeting the witch's dark gaze with her own. Then she tipped her head and knocked back the alcohol, wincing as it burned its way down the back of her throat. They didn't call it "fire" whiskey for nothing. The sensation was terrible, and she couldn't stop herself from starting to cough and sputter.

After she'd recovered she looked up to see Electra smirking at her from across her desk, poised as ever. "Doing alright there, dear?"

Hermione scowled. "Just fine, thank you."

"Oh really? Then I suppose you'd like a bit more? This is a celebration, after all," Electra said, far too smugly for Hermione's liking. Raising an eyebrow at the challenge, she set her empty glass down on the desk in front of Electra with an audible clink.

"One more couldn't hurt." Bring it on.

Electra poured them both another shot before screwing the top back onto the bottle and setting it aside. Grinning impishly, she took up her glass again and gave Hermione a look that challenged her to do the same. Hermione did, and the two of them repeated their actions from earlier, although this time merely touching the rims of their glasses together without the toast before knocking them back. Hermione was better prepared for the sensation now, and so was able to appreciate the feeling of warmth the alcohol suffused through her being along with the burning in her throat.

"Nice," Electra commented, although she was still smirking. Hermione rolled her eyes, setting the glass down.

"Maybe if someone hadn't forced me to pretend to be underage, I'd have not lost the ability to gracefully enjoy firewhiskey," she said.

Electra just shrugged, unrepentant. "You'll get it back. And a comparison between us isn't really fair, anyway; I lived in L.A., in California, for over a year, in the early 2020s. I'm not sure if you've ever been there or heard about it, but they can drink."

Hermione could only blink in response. She was a little bit shocked that Electra had revealed more personal information about her past. She always seemed to forget that the other witch had a life before, too, which Hermione knew next to nothing about. Los Angeles was not somewhere she would picture the sophisticated, elegant British witch to be drawn to, but, then again, what did she know; Electra was always full of surprises.

Electra sighed and flicked her wrist, cleaning out their glasses and sending them flying back to where they were stored with a single wandless spell. "I suppose that's enough for a night, dear. I really do hope you managed to enjoy your party. Or at least endured it, and will enjoy your present instead."

Hermione couldn't help but smile as she gently smoothed down the crease of the Map. "I think I will, actually. Thank you." Her gratitude was truly genuine this time, not as tinged with bitterness as it would have been before.

Electra's beam was radiant. "You're very welcome! Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Electra." Hermione turned away, left the classroom, and started on her route back towards the dungeons, clutching her wand in one hand and the folded up Map in the other. Everything was going smoothly and she'd made it down about three turns of the corridor before the shots of firewhiskey started to hit. When her head felt like it was floating and the archway she was approaching started to sway dangerously, she admitted to herself that she was, perhaps, a wee bit tipsy.

It wasn't as if she were underage, but given how important appearances were in this time period, it simply wouldn't do to have anyone stumble upon her in a drunken state. Since it was past curfew, there was a good chance that the Prefects would be on their rounds. This… might be a problem.

But wait! Grinning stupidly to herself, she unfolded the Marauder's Map, pointed her wand at it, and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Before her eyes the layout of Hogwarts castle appeared again. It took her a moment to locate her dot—yes, there she was, just at the entrance to the dungeons. A second later she thanked her lucky stars that she had thought to check her route because directly in the path she would have taken was Louisa Greengrass, the seventh year female prefect from Slytherin. Hermione had yet to meet her, but from what she gathered, the girl was not good friends with Alphard and his gang. She certainly didn't want to risk running into her while breaking curfew, and inebriated. Instead, she would just take the longer way through the back of the dungeons and avoid Greengrass. Yes, that was a good plan…

Hermione managed to creep almost silently down the stairs descending into the dungeon, still clutching the map in her hand so that she could monitor the Prefect's movements. When she reached the bottom of the staircase, she dashed into the left hand corridor instead of going straight.

Because only the torches along the main route into the dungeon were kept lit at this hour, she was forced to perform the lumos spell to light her way. As she went along, she would stop every hundred feet or so to glance at the map and make sure she was still in the clear. When she was about halfway to the common room, she looked down again and paused. Frowning, she brought her illuminated wand tip closer to the pam and inspected the dungeons carefully. Yes, she wasn't imagining it—the dot labeled "Hermione Granger" was not in the place that she was; in fact, a further perusal revealed that she'd vanished from the map entirely!

Hermione frowned deeply. Perhaps the firewhiskey was playing tricks on her eyes? She started walking forwards again with her eyes glued to the map, waiting for her dot to reappear. Her eyes passed over the hallways of the dungeons many times, but still could not locate herself. This was unheard of! The Marauders' Map would show wizards even when they were under polyjuice potion or travelling in their animagus form, and it wasn't as though she was in the room of requirement or a similarly unplottable area. It was incredibly odd… somehow she'd unintentionally fooled the Marauders' Map!

She took a turn, and then another, her footsteps echoing through the otherwise silent corridor as her mind raced to come up with a possible explanation for this phenomenon. Had she fallen victim to some sort of curse? Had the map? Or could there be something anomalous about this part of the dungeon? It wasn't as if they'd ever paid much attention to it before, it was entirely possible Harry had never noticed people disappeared from there… Finally after she had gone down about hundred feet of hallway, her dot suddenly faded back into view, right next to the potions classroom.

She blinked a few times, waiting for it to vanish, but there it stayed, looking like it had always been there. Absolutely bizarre.

Feeling compelled to test at least one of her theories, she started walking slowly backwards, keeping her eyes glued to the map and her own dot. It remained present, even as she retraced the exact bits of hallway she'd been missing from before. Just what in Morgana's name was going on with this thing?

Her backwards amble ended abruptly with her running into the section of wall that jutted out to form a stone archway; she couldn't help but swear loudly when the sharp pain of impact splintered through her head. But it did bring her back to the reality of where she was and what she was supposed to be doing, and with a start she realized that her pursuit of her missing self had distracted her from monitoring Greengrass' position. Hermione quickly sought the Prefect out, growing a bit distressed when she saw that Louisa had moved from the front of the dungeons. She scanned the map, and when she finally relocated the other girl, she let out a sharp gasp. Greengrass was now accompanied by another dot: Tom Riddle. And they were heading right towards her.

She took off at as fast of a jog as she dared while still being vigilant about how much noise she was making in the process. Her path led her deep into the dungeon, taking her further and further away from the safety of the common room, but no other route would let her avoid the pair of Prefects on patrol. She couldn't let him discover her like this, and he certainly couldn't be allowed to see her with the Marauder's Map. Why on earth had she agreed to don a dress without pockets? She had nowhere to hide it; the bodice was too tight for her to have it discreetly stuffed down her front, he'd surely notice and be curious. She didn't want him to be any more curious about her and what she did…

Finally she reached a point in the hallways she didn't recognize in the slightest, so she slowed down to catch her breath and consult the map again. She should be far away from any other people now though, right?

Wrong. Much to her surprise, Riddle and Greengrass still journeying into the heart of dungeon, going down almost the same path of the corridors she had. Louisa appeared to be a few steps in front of Riddle. But in addition to that, to her utter bafflement, three new figures had apparently left the Slytherin common room for their own midnight amble: Thaddeus Nott, Emmett Lestrange, and the sixth year Devon Rosier. What could they be up to? The route they appeared to be taking would quite possibly run into her if she didn't move quickly enough, but she was quickly running out of options of where to turn within the chilly maze of unfamiliar corridors. To top it all off, her head was starting to feel fuzzy from the alcohol.

How had things gotten so quickly out of hand?

Hermione set off again, and not a minute later she came to a dead end. There was a door at the end of the corridor, but it was firmly sealed and she did not have the time to silently open it. Another glance at the map told her that while the trio of Riddle's followers had actually gone a different way, the pair of Prefects were getting close enough to her that it was too risky to have her wand lit. She glanced around and decided her only option was to place herself in the far corner and disillusion herself. After a last look at her lovely espionage device that showed the the others to be alarmingly close, she muttered the incantation to wipe the map, ended her lumos, and then cast the spell, shivering at the the cold feeling that rippled down her body as she was rendered invisible. After that, the only thing to do was to try and quiet her breathing as much as possible while her heartbeat pounded heavily in her ears.

Not thirty seconds had passed before she heard his voice echoing rather loudly through the corridors. "Come on, Greengrass, who would be this far from the common room, at this time of night? It was a rat."

"Rat's don't swear, Riddle! There's someone down here, trust me!" Louisa snapped back. "If it's those Gryffindors trying to spy on us again, I swear I'll have them in detention until Christmas!"

Riddle's next comment sounded much closer. "You're wasting time. My time! In case you hadn't noticed, our patrol ended ten minutes ago. I'd like to go to bed, wouldn't you?" Hermione noticed that his tone was far more impatient than he usually was with his classmates other than his followers; perhaps he really was tired.

Hermione's breath hitched as bright blue wand light spilled around the corner and the corridor was once again illuminated. Moments later, she saw the pair of them enter the very hallway she was hidden in.

Louisa was a few steps ahead of Riddle, her wand aloft and lit, her gait steady and determined. She stopped midway through the hallway, a good twenty feet from where Hermione stood. Her eyes traveled up and down the apparently empty space of the corridor, even passing over Hermione's hiding spot a couple of times. Hermione found herself unable to breath at all.

"Well," Riddle said from behind her. He was still wearing his dress robes from the party, although Hermione noted he'd pinned his Prefect badge back on his lapel. "We appear to have reached the end of the dungeons, and there's no curfew breakers in sight. Now may we call it a night?"

Greengrass frowned, making another searching pass of the hallway. "They could still be here, hidden somehow—"

Riddle sighed dramatically and then drew out his wand, waving it lazily at the hallway. "Homenum Revelio."

Hermione's whole body seized up and her heart started pounding twice as fast as she prepared for her presence to be revealed, but to her surprise, Louisa's disappointed eyes passed over her without seeing once again.

"There, are you happy now?" Riddle said dryly while stowing his wand. "Or would you like to scour every inch of the dungeon for possible rule-breakers? Keep in mind that I'd like to make it to bed sometime before dawn."

Louisa huffed angrily, but she finally turned and started back the way they'd come. "Very well, but if there are spies and we haven't caught them, you're taking the blame."

"I can live with that," Riddle muttered as Greengrass walked past him. He looked back at the hallway once more with furrowed brows. His hand slipped back into his pocket and he seemed to consider taking out his wand again, before deciding against it and turning to follow his fellow Prefect.

Once the light of Louisa's wand had disappeared and she was alone in the pitch blackness once more, Hermione allowed her eyes to close and her head to fall back against the wall as she took some deep breaths and tried to calm herself down from the rush of being almost discovered. Why hadn't she been found out? There's no way Tom Riddle would have failed at casting a spell like that. Had he simply pretended to cast it for Greengrass' benefit? Oh of course! His followers were skulking about the dungeons, too! He likely knew about it; perhaps he thought he was protecting them.

And speaking of his followers, what could they possibly be up to? After allowing a few minutes to pass in absolute silence, Hermione relit her wand and consulted the map again. When the ink diagrams finally revealed the layout of the dungeons again, she found that the trio was now gathered in front of the doorway to the Potions classroom. Now that was suspicious. Were they stealing ingredients? Or brewing something dangerous and illegal? Or both? Despite what she had to chant to get the map to work, it was definitely them who were up to no good on this fine night in the dungeons.

Dare she try to get closer and attempt to eavesdrop? She bit her lip as she weighed the potential threat of their actions against the increasingly strong pull of her bed and the concept of sleep. Finally, she decided that since she was already out and she was fairly confident in her ability to move silently and undetected, there wouldn't be any harm in taking a route back that brought her towards them and seeing if she could figure out why they were there. Electra had given her the map so she could keep an eye on them, hadn't she?

She memorized the route she should take and then set off. She felt her way along the rough stone walls of the dungeon with one hand, her unlit wand and blank map in the other. Her Disillusionment charm was still in place. Going slowly and in the dark, it took her about ten minutes, but she eventually reached the hallway the boys had been in. They weren't there, but she could see the tell-tale light of a lantern flickering from behind the Potion's room door and the sound of voices drifting from behind it. Bickering voices.

By all means, boys, fight louder, she thought as she crept along the wall until she right next to the door. Due to the volume of their argument, she was easily able to pick up what they were saying.

"—can't see a thing over here! Stop hogging the lantern, Rosier!" That sounded like Lestrange.

"I told you to get two! This is the consequence of not following directions. Use your wand if you can't see something."

"I don't take orders from the likes of you—"

"Don't be so loud," a softer voice admonished. That one had to be Nott. "Tom won't be happy if someone catches us."

"Riddle will keep Greengrass away," Rosier replied, his voice sounding more distant than before. "And everyone else should be in bed. We'll have plenty of time to do the homework he's decided to assign us. Can't believe he threatened to make me miss the first match..." So they were there at Riddle's behest… But for what purpose?

"Devon and I had Quidditch practice, what's your excuse for putting this off, Nott?" Lestrange's question was followed by the sound of a heavy object being pushed across a stone floor and a loud grunt from one of the boys. Were they moving furniture? What would that have to do with potions?

"I, well… Don't tell Tom, but I've been going to remedial Transfiguration lessons, and they take up so much of my time that I—"

Lestrange's cruel laughter cut his associate off. "So you've been ignoring your duty to Riddle to spend extra time with Dumbledore? He'd be pissed!"

"I don't have a choice; Professor Dumbledore doesn't think I'll be able to pass my O.W.L. without extra tutoring. My father would kill me if I screwed up my future like that!" Nott had moved so that it sounded as if he was right on the other side of the door. Hermione couldn't help flinching and taking a small step back, ready to disappear into the shadows if the door was opened suddenly.

"Please! O.W.L.s won't matter to us, not when we take over the ministry and bring about our new order! That's why we formed the Knights, isn't it?" Hermione could tell by Lestrange's voice that he was sneering at Nott. What an arse. She hated all the Knights on principle, of course, but that boy in particular could really use a good punch to the face one of these days. She couldn't help grinning and snickering a bit at the thought of how pathetically Lestrange would probably react. It would be just like when she punched Malfoy in her third year, the cowardly bully…

"That's all well and good, Emmett, but that new order's not going to come to pass unless Riddle can achieve his goals, and right now the two of you standing around chatting is doing nothing to advance that!" Rosier's annoyed voice sounded like it was coming from the far side of the room.

"Well sorry, but I can't see the details on the stones if they're not properly lit up, and you won't share the lantern." Lestrange whined.

Rosier muttered something incomprehensible in response.

Hermione frowned. Why would they be looking at the walls? After going through the trouble to break into the Potions classroom in the middle of the night, shouldn't they be doing something nefarious and potions-related in there?

The boys lapsed into silence so that all Hermione heard was the occasional sound of a desk or chair being moved around. She wished they'd left the door cracked, so that she could peek into the room and see what they were actually doing. It sounded like they were searching for something, but what? And why?

Just as she was getting tired of leaning against the wall and was considering heading back and calling it a night, Rosier finally spoke again. "Alright. Nott, come give me a hand with Slughorn's desk." She heard the scrape of the large desk being pushed around again, and then Rosier said, "I think we can call this room cleared. No one found anything?"

"There's a bunch of graffiti on the wall next to the desks, but nothing like what we're looking for," Nott replied. Hermione scowled. He couldn't be more specific about what exactly the were looking for, for the benefit of any potential eavesdroppers? Quite inconsiderate if you asked her.

Rosier sighed. "I'll mark in on the sheet… Next up for tonight is Slughorn's office. Emmett, grab the lantern, and make sure we didn't leave anything behind."

"Stop ordering me around!" Lestrange snapped.

She heard the sounds of them preparing to leave the room, so she started to creep silently back down the corridor, not wanting to risk any one of them accidentally seeing through her Disillusionment. When she was perhaps twenty feet away from the door, it opened, and the three of them stepped out of it. Lestrange carried their lantern and was scowling darkly at Rosier, who was busy re-applying the charms that usually kept the classroom door locked. Nott stood about, his eyes wandering aimlessly through the dark corridor. For a frightful moment, he looked directly at the spot where Hermione's eyes were and stayed staring at it. She gasped softly, but he hadn't actually seen her and looked away a moment later.

Once Rosier had completed his task, he motioned for for the other two to follow him, and started to lead their group down the hallway away from Hermione, towards where she knew Slughorn's office was.

As her heartbeat slowed back to normal after the panic of nearly being found out again that night, she considered whether she should follow after them and attempt to spy some more. She still wasn't quite sure what they were up to. They were looking for something or other, some marking on stones in the dungeon, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what that might mean. There was a chance listening to their conversation would give her more clues. On the other hand, she was probably pushing her luck, and wasn't sure if she could count on getting through a third close encounter without being found out. Besides, her eyelids were in danger of drooping closed and she was having trouble staying focused on anything, really. The long night at the party, the effects of the alcohol, and the lateness of the hour were all combining to make her dead on her feet. Deciding she'd had enough, she turned around and started heading in the opposite direction from the boys, back to the Slytherin Common room and to sleep.

—0—

The next morning, Hermione slept much later than normal, and by the time she rolled out of bed Lucretia informed her that it lunch was about to be served. She thanked her friend and then proceeded to get herself cleaned up and dressed for the day.

As she went about her routine, she thought over the events of the previous night. The party had been nothing compared to what she'd done afterwards. Thanks to Electra's surprising generosity, the Marauder's Map was now stored in a hidden compartment in her trunk. And she'd managed to sneak past Tom Riddle and spy on his minions as they worked their nefarious plot… whatever that might be. She'd hoped that once she'd gotten a good night's sleep and the alcohol had worn off, the answer to the questions she had regarding their activities would be clear, but no such luck.

She should probably go talk to Electra about it, Hermione mused, surprising herself when the thought didn't cause the feelings of dread and distaste she was used to with their interactions. Surly Electra would be interested in hearing about the advantages Hermione had already gained with her gift, and she was sure to have thoughts about what she'd witnessed. Maybe they would actually be open and discuss things, like a team. Or something.

She did wonder how Electra would react to hearing about how the drunken Hermione had taken a fairly large risk and was nearly caught a couple of times. Now that she was sober, she herself was questioning the intelligence behind her decisions last night. She'd been standing very close to the doorway of the classroom; the boys could have suddenly stepped out and run right into her without her having any time to react. And all Riddle would have had to do was actually cast that spell, and she'd have been done for. While she excused herself a little on that one, since she'd only been trying to avoid being caught, she shouldn't have allowed herself to become so caught up in whatever problem the map was having. She could have just gone back to the common room as soon as she had an opening and avoided the whole thing… Well, it was no matter. What's done was done, and she hadn't been found out, so all was well.

By the time she finished getting ready, she found the dorms to be vacant, and assumed the common room would be as well with everyone gone for lunch. Hermione left her room and went down the stairs, thinking to go to the Great Hall and join them; she was rather hungry. Just as she was about to exit the common room, she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, and spun around.

Riddle was sitting in his usual chair next to the fire, his legs crossed in front of him and leaning his head on his hand propped up on the armrest. His other hand was in a fist and resting in his lap, clenching something she couldn't identify. His expression was more closed off and guarded than usual, especially since he'd started trying to befriend her, and that immediately put her on high alert.

She forced a smile. "Good morning Riddle. Can I help you with something?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Morning, Miss Temple? It's well past noon."

"Well, good afternoon then," she said, not having to fake the slightly confused tone in her voice. What was he up to?

He abruptly pushed himself up and came to stand in front of her with his hands behind his back. "You slept rather late," he stated. His voice was almost… thoughtful. "Did you get to bed later, for some reason?"

Fuck. He knew. She must have had some sort of physical reaction that gave her away because his eyes narrowed and his voice grew much more suspicious.

"Yes, you were out late. Past curfew, I suspect, and wandering the dungeons. Do you have any idea how many school rules you were breaking?"

Hermione opened her mouth, ready to deny everything, but stopped. She had no idea how sure he was of his accusations, if he had any proof or not. Tom Riddle was anything but stupid, and she was willing to bet his shrewdness would let him realize her ruse. If she lied, there was a good chance he would know it, and as far as he knew what reasons did she have to lie to him? They were supposed to be befriending each other, after all. Perhaps if she gave him a modified version of the truth, that would be enough to throw him off her trail.

"Perhaps I've broken one or two more than you've counted in your estimation, Riddle," she finally said, keeping her voice low. She made a show of glancing around the common room before leaning a bit closer so she could murmur, "Electra and I had a bit of a drink last night after my party, you see. We were celebrating me coming of age, and lost track of time. On my way back to the dormitories, I was not… thinking clearly."

Riddle stared at her for a long moment; she could almost see the wheels turning in his brain as he tried to figure out whether to believe her or not. "I was patrolling the dungeons last night after curfew," he finally said, his voice doubtful. "Why did I not see you?"

Hermione allowed a wide grin to spread across her face. "Simple: I heard you and the other Prefect walking around, and decided to go the other way to the common room. Electra told me not to get caught while drunk, so I avoided you." The half-truths fell smoothly from lips, and after a second she was pleased to see Riddle's posture relax as he seemed to accept her story.

"Well, as this was your first infraction, I see no reason to take any points."

Hermione snorted. "I'd like to see you try without any proof. All you have is my confession, which I could easily deny."

Riddle smirked. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Miss Temple." He drew his hand out from behind his back and opened his hand to reveal what he'd had hidden earlier. She gasped. Lying in his palm was the diamond comb from Lucretia that she'd been wearing at the party. "I found this on the floor, far from where any students should have been last night."

It was a damn good thing she hadn't tried to flat-out lie! He'd likely have lost all respect for her, as well as whatever seeds of trust she may have planted, and she certainly wouldn't have earned either back anytime soon.

"Thank you for finding it," she eventually said, reaching out and taking it from his hand. She slipped it into one of her pockets (which she was now never going to be without!) and smiled thinly. "Well, I'm famished. I did miss breakfast. So, I'm going to go…" she gestured towards the exit and started inching away from Riddle.

"I'm headed there too," Riddle said and held out his arm. "Allow me to accompany you."

She saw no reason to reject him, so she accepted his offer, and the two of them began to head towards the Great Hall.

Once they started walking, he glanced at her and said, "By the way, did you happen to swear out loud at any point you can remember?"

She nodded sheepishly. "I ended up becoming a bit… disoriented, and ended up walking into a wall."

"Greengrass' rat," he muttered, and then chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Louisa dragged me through half the dungeon looking for you after she heard that."

"Oh? Then I'm very sorry for interrupting your routine."

"Don't be, Miss Temple," he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and smiling slightly. "It's only been a few weeks, but routine patrols are already becoming quite dull. Your misadventures at least provided a bit of excitement last night."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Well in that case, you're welcome," she said, feeling a bit emboldened by her successful duping of Tom Riddle. "Perhaps I'll make a point of stumbling about the dungeons past curfew more often, to relieve you of your boredom." Was it alright for her to have such a teasing tone with him?

Her brief worry vanished when Riddle smirked and said, "As a Prefect, I couldn't possibly condone such behavior. I would suggest, however, that the next time you'd like to get drunk with your cousin, you warn me beforehand, and I might just happen to suggest to my patrol partner that we check the far side of the dungeons very thoroughly."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied with a small smile. The expression melted off her face the instant she realized what had just happened, though.

She'd just casually teased Tom Riddle, and he'd teased back. The world had truly gone mad.