"So? When will the meeting take place?" asked a tall, thin boy with thick, black, ruffled curls and a hooked nose.

Another young man with much tidier hair, onyx in shade, and an overall well kept appearance, replied, "Tonight – after potions."

Met with another boy who walked briskly towards the other two, the echoes of his footsteps resounding through the hall, he was rather petite, though well-built with dark blond hair. Abruptly he stopped making a gesture as if asking for some kind of response to his company.

"Tonight after potions." the curly haired boy answered. His name was Nott, Theodore Nott. The blond, Mulciber, and the third boy, Tom Riddle.

More than once, weekly, Tom and his friends, who were more his gang members rather, met for special meetings held by Tom. No one knew for sure what went on during their gatherings since only a fair few were invited – those closest to Tom, or rather, those Tom perceived as worthy enough to involve themselves with him and partake in the pleasure of his company. Arrogance was one of his underlying traits, yes, however this ran deeper. It was not a question of arrogance but something much more important and cruel, to put it lightly.

"And don't be late." Riddle enforced harshly, "This may very well be the most important meeting. Those who arrive late will simply be removed, am I perfectly clear?"

The two boys nodded in unison.

The halls resounded with the familiar echoes of chatter from students making their way from class to class. Hogwarts was as busy and thriving as always. Hermione Granger, a sixth year Gryffindor, with much effort, forced her way through the mass of students, just barely managing. Never had she been late for a class and she didn't intend on being late now – that being her only strive for perfect attendance, since she really disliked the thought of potions class at the moment. It was not high on her list of priorities to, at the least, share a class with Ronald Weasley right now considering their current opposition – an opposition to her anyway, what with his choice of females to spend his time with. Six years falling for this ginger haired boy, risking her life with him for their best friend, Harry Potter, obviously sharing the same feelings for eachother. For him to suddenly write it off as 'just friends' for the sake of some daft bimbo, whose real name was Lavender Brown, infuriated her to no end, at the least. More so did it destroy her inside and was slowly breaking her heart.

'I'll just focus on the assignment and pretend they're not there. Yes. It'll be fine.' she tried to convince herself. Yet she knew pretending they weren't there was nearly impossible. All they ever did was snog eachother's brains out. Always, always, always all over eachother. It was vile and sickened her to her stomach.

After a while of pushing and shoving, finally she made it through the crowd and carried on to Potions.

Upon entering the classroom, she was surprised to find they'd managed to keep their hands off eachother long enough to attempt an assignment.

"Ha." Hermione chirped with a pun at them, not that they noticed. Lavender was too busy gazing in heat at the ginger as he serviced his cauldron.

With a brow arched, she stalked over to her work area, ensuring she gave more than enough space between herself and the pair.

Throughout the class, Ron offered short glances in her general direction, brief in their existence as not to indirectly imply anything to Lavender. Other than that, things ran smoothly, for the most part, but she couldn't completely ignore their presence.

'Spare me..' Hermione thought to herself in spite of Ron's efforts to gain some sort of attention, or approval – at the very least say hello. However, Hermione wanted nothing more than privacy with her cauldron and assignment.

"Hey" a voice sounded from behind, barely audible, and at once she knew it was him. Aimlessly, she pecked at several different objects scattered atop the table – anything to keep busy, or appear as such.

Clearing his throat, Ron made another attempt at small talk, "Hey." he repeated with more enthusiasm and a smile to match. Hermione growing irate quickly snatched her rucksack, tossing her things inside before storming out of the classroom, leaving Ron bewildered and exchanging odd glances with Harry and the back of Hermione's golden brown mane.

"I don't think she wants to talk to you as of yet, Ron." Harry pointed out the obvious as if perhaps it weren't so to Ron.

With a sigh, he returned to his table and pressed on, wondering, as always, when Hermione would finally come to terms with him and stop shutting him out.

With long strides, Hermione trotted through the halls of Hogwarts, in the direction of that one place – her safe haven: the library.