The next day at breakfast, Tom was surprised to see Hermione come up the stairs with an entourage.

At her sides were Snape and Sirius' brother, Regulus, just as it'd been at dinner the previous night. Following them, though, was a crowd of Slytherins. They were all walking very deliberately and almost in unison, glaring at anyone who looked at them.

"The hell…?" said Sirius, his fork stopping halfway to his mouth. "Has she gotten an army?"

"That's Avery, Bellatrix, Dolohov, Macnair, and Yaxley. It looks like she's also got the Carrows and the Lestranges behind her too," Remus said, peering.

"…so all the kids aiming at being Death Eaters, then?" James said dryly.

Tom blinked, then snickered. "The what?"

"Death Eaters," Sirius said dully. "The ones who follow You-Know-Who. They're all probably working up to joining after they graduate. If your soulmate's mixed up with them… tough luck, Tom."

"What," Tom demanded, his frustration leaking into his voice, "is a Death Eater? What is You-Know-Who?"

He glared around at them, and they froze.

"Blimey," James breathed, his eyes wide. "You're- you've come through time. You've got no idea…"

"Got no idea," Tom said sharply, "of what?"

With a wary look on his face, James settled in closer next to him, and began to explain.

There was a growing Dark Lord, one who wasn't afraid to use the Dark Arts. He was rumored to be immortal, and had named his followers the Death Eaters, because death was something to cause their enemies, not something to fear. He taught his followers Dark Magic, and they would practice it on muggles. He was killing everyone who spoke out against him and wiping out villages of muggles, promoting fear amongst the entire magical community. His followers would abduct people who would turn up dead later, cursed, raped, and mutilated beyond recognition.

He was still mostly underground, James explained, but it was only a matter of time. People like the Black family and the Malfoys and the Selwyns kept joining up with him, and once he had enough support, he was probably going to attack the Ministry and wipe everyone out, maybe.

Or maybe just kill everyone there and take over.

But something bad.

There was a silence after Potter's pronouncement, as Tom's mind boggled.

"Why do people say 'You-Know-Who'?" he said finally, cutting off Potter's baseless speculations.

"Well, they're afraid to say his name, aren't they?" he said. "Rumor has it when you say his name, he can hear it. But here – I'll write it out."

He pulled a scrap of parchment from his bag and grabbed a quill, quickly scribbling something on it before stuffing it into Tom's hand.

"I wouldn't bring it up if I were you," he said. "The attacks are only getting worse, and a lot of people have had someone go missing or turn up dead. You don't want to appear insensitive."

James sat back up to finish his breakfast, and loudly began an argument with Sirius over whether Hufflepuff of Ravenclaw would be more embarrassing in the first Quidditch game of the year. Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes and pulled the crumpled paper from his fist, slowly opening it.

Lord Voldemort

Tom's eyebrows rose.

That sounded…

That…

Tom pulled out a quill and wrote his name at the top of the paper, casting a wordless charm to hide his writing from view.

A few moments later, he had:

E
X

T

Tom quietly scratched in I AM at the start, and put the quill down.

He felt a little sick.

Sure, he planned on becoming an insanely powerful immortal wizard with tons of minions, and probably taking down the ministry, but…

He didn't really want to just start killing people randomly. For fun. Death should at least serve a purpose, in his mind. A political assassination was one thing, or to eliminate an enemy who might blackmail you. But to just go around wiping out muggles for sport…

It wasn't that he liked muggles, even. But that was just…

Wrong.

Suddenly feeling very unhungry, Tom stood up.

"I'm going to go talk to my supposed soulmate again," he told them.

"Are you sure?" Sirius said skeptically. "Even she's involved with all these bad folks?"

"I better rescue her all the sooner, then," Tom quipped, and he left to their laughter.

As he approached the Slytherin table, Hermione seemed to be able to sense him, and she turned to face him, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to speak with you, if you have a moment," Tom said politely. His eyes flicked over to Snape. "Alone."

Snape and Black looked alarmed at this, but Hermione stood up smoothly, unworried.

"Where?"

Tom led her into the hallway into an empty classroom. He noticed that Hermione had her hand on her wand as she walked, as if perpetually ready for a threat. He closed the door and turned around, and Hermione had shucked her bag and had her wand in her hand, idle at her side.

"What is it, Riddle?" her voice was carefully neutral, her eyes alert. Tom's patience waned.

"Oh, knock it off. I'm not going to curse you," he snapped. "I know you're under the impression that I've Evil Incarnate, but I've only just learned that I'm going to grow up to be a murderous Dark Lord. I'd appreciate a moment of understanding before we start bickering again."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "You… just learned?"

"When the hell would I have heard about Lord Voldemort?" he sneered. "Everyone avoids talking about him, and I've been here for a day. And everyone was trying to help me meet girls to find my soulmate, not warning me about seriously evil dark wizards lurking about."

Hermione was looking at him still, brown eyes wide. "You… you don't have such plans now?"

Tom groaned and hopped up onto a desk, letting his legs dangle. "Look. You're my soulmate. All the cards on the table, yes? If we have to duel and kill each other later, so be it, but we're both stranded in a strange time, and we've only really got each other to cling to, right?"

Hermione tilted her head to look at him, before she climbed onto a desk across from him, facing him, and raised an eyebrow.

"Fair enough," she said wryly. "I guess I was a little too preoccupied with my immediate response of 'take down the Dark Lord' to think through the logistics of someone finding out their current-universe counterpart is a Dark Lord."

Tom snorted, and Hermione offered him a nasty smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"You go first?" she suggested.

Tom sighed. He should have figured he'd have to go first; she didn't trust him – or at least, not yet, if he handled this right.

"You were right," he admitted. "I was researching horcruxes. Or trying to research them, at any rate – there's no reliable information anywhere I've found so far, and I only know the bare basics – you split your soul, and put part of it into a container." Tom ran a hand through his hair, thinking back. "I have intended to become a Dark Lord, but… not like what Lord Voldemort is doing. I never intended for things to be so… messy."

"Messy?" To his surprise, Hermione looked amused.

"I won't deny that killing your enemies has its place," Tom said wryly. "But… political assassinations and taking out threats are one thing. Murdering villages full of muggles and rapes of people who speak out… that's entirely another."

Hermione nodded slowly. "You didn't plan on that?"

"I… I have a certain moral flexibility," Tom said lightly. "But no, I didn't. If for no other reason than it's unnecessary. Any oaf can club someone to death. It takes a deft hand to defeat your enemy on their battlefield, be it a duel or politics."

"Politics?"

"I'd thought to go after being Minister," Tom told her. "I hadn't really decided – becoming immortal was the primary priority, followed closely by NEWTs."

"And the Chamber of Secrets…?"

He grimaced. "That was a mistake gone awry. I didn't know Myrtle was in the bathroom, and I didn't realize what the serpent was doing when she was hungry. I'd learned there was a terrifying and incredible power I might be able to control, and I tried. I sealed the whole thing up immediately after."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "So you didn't stop just so you wouldn't be sent back to the orphanage and not get caught?"

Tom fought the urge to goggle at her. How did she know this…?

"I turned in Hagrid for that mess," he told her. "I'd already stopped the serpent by then. Hagrid was just… so they wouldn't close the school. So they'd think they'd caught it. I didn't want them to destroy a centuries-old magical creature, regardless of the harm it caused."

Hermione smiled.

"Sentimental over a basilisk?" she teased. "How sweet."

Tom rolled his eyes.

"And your father…?"

Tom's blood ran cold.

"That was over the summer," he conceded, very grudgingly. "I went searching for my family. Imagine my surprise at discovering there was any, while I had been left to suffer in an orphanage."

Hermione watched him. To his surprise, she didn't seem to be judging him.

"I… I fell into a rage," he told her. "I was so angry. Him… my filthy Muggle father, and his parents. They said such horrible, hateful things, and I just…"

He grit his teeth.

"I stole the Gaunt man's wand and killed them all," he told her. "I'm not sorry. I'd do it again. They were horrible people, and they deserved what was coming to them."

Hermione tilted her head.

"Your ring?" she questioned, nodding to his hand.

"Taken from Gaunt after I memory-charmed him to frame him for the murder," Tom spat. "It's my family heirloom – why should it be lost in Azkaban?"

Hermione watched him carefully. Tom was careful to protect his mind against any intrusions, but he felt none.

"Your turn, then," he informed her. "What all do you know?"

Hermione tilted her head, considering.

"You grow up to be Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord of these times," she said finally, confirming what he'd feared. "You make horcruxes to become immortal – I think you had 6 or 7, by the end of it. What you didn't realize is that each subsequent horcrux made you more and more unstable, more and more inhuman, until you were putting your followers under the Cruciatus curse whenever they disappointed you."

Tom's eyes grew wider.

"One of your horcruxes was a diary, and possessed someone in my second year. That's how we learned about the basilisk – it came out and started attacking people. We took care of it, though," she said, with a casual wave of her hand, "and the diary too."

"Took care of it?" Tom questioned.

"Killed and destroyed," Hermione confirmed. "To be fair, it was a life-or-death fight. I don't think someone fighting for their life can really be objective about the worth of a centuries-old creature."

Tom gritted his teeth. He supposed not – he would do nearly anything to stay alive himself. Still, though – what a loss. A centuries-old rare magical beast, versus a student? There were tons of students in the school – surely one was expendable?

"Dumbledore found out about your horcruxes," Hermione told him. "He sent us – me and my two best friends – on a wild hunt to find and destroy them. Which we did. There was a huge final battle at the end of what would have been my 7th year, and you died." She looked smug. "So the Dark Lord fell in the end."

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you were a 6th year?" he said lightly.

To his surprise, Hermione grit her teeth.

"I was a 7th year," Hermione said shortly. "Going back for my 8th, I suppose, as I was on the run for what would have been my 7th. But before I ended up here, I went back to my 6th year, for a moment."

Tom's eyes widened.

"I remember it. I went back to a specific moment I'll never forget, and then I ended up here, sprawled across the ground." Hermione's eyes darkened. "Plus, my scars are gone."

She extended her forearm, and gestured with her wand. Ugly, red marks scratching out MUDBLOOD appeared, and Tom felt a little ill.

"I thought I'd have to glamour it for the rest of my life," Hermione told him. "But it's just gone now. Like it never happened. But I can remember it as though it was yesterday." She shuddered. "This time around, I'll make sure not to get captured and tortured again."

Captured and tortured? This little slip of a girl?

Tom stared at her, and Hermione started to squirm.

"What?" she demanded. "Stop looking at me like that. Is there something else you have questions about?"

Tom kept looking at her, a slow smirk growing on his face.

"So what do you plan to do, now, here in this time, Miss Hermione Granger?" he asked her, his voice like silk. He smirked as he saw her shudder slightly, pleased to know even this girl wasn't completely immune to his tricks.

"Find Voldemort's horcruxes," she said immediately. "Find them, destroy them, and eliminate the Dark Lord. Before Autumn of 1980."

Tom presumed something important happened then. He shrugged, uncaring. He was sure he'd learn about it later.

"And you?" Hermione asked. "What do you plan to do in this time?"

Tom stood up from the desk and moved towards her. Hermione's eyes stayed on his, wary. He cupped her cheek with his hand, tilting up her chin.

"Oh, Hermione," Tom murmured. "Haven't you figured that out yet?"

He lowered his head, capturing Hermione's lips.

He'd intended for it to be a dramatic but sweet moment that she would replay back in her dorm room, running it through her mind over and over again. Instead, electricity seemed to spark between them, pulling them closer together, and several moments later he realized that he was kissing her fiercely, furiously, with his body growing warm, and Hermione was responding just as passionately, her hands running over his body while his were running over her back.

He broke away, gasping, his eyes wild. Hermione was short of breath as well, with a look of wonderment on her face. Her lips were swollen, her robes disheveled, and her hair had gone wild. She looked very well-kissed.

It made him want to kiss her again.

Hermione looked up at him once she had collected herself, this time with a look of amusement.

"I haven't entirely figured it out, no," she told him, a playful smile on her lips. "What is your dramatic plan?"

Tom was careful not to kiss her, but he moved forward to tilt up her chin anyway.

"Claim my soulmate," he told her. "Destroy these horcruxes, find Voldemort, battle him and win, and become the greatest wizard and hero of this generation."

A slow smile spread across Hermione face.

"Power is much more easily given to a hero than a painfully evil wizard," she said. She grinned, and stuck out a hand. "If you agree to be partners in this endeavor, I'd be happy to be by your side."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Partners?"

Hermione's own eyebrow rose in response. "Do you think I'd settle for anything less? There are reforms to the Ministry that I want to get passed, too."

Tom considered for only a moment. After all, he would have demanded an equal share with his soulmate if he were in her position, too.

"Agreed," he said, shaking her hand. There was a brief flare of magic that wrapped around their hands, sunk into them, and disappeared. They looked at each other, equally confused.

"Do you think it'll always be like that?" Hermione asked, looking over her hand. "Odd surges of power whenever we touch?"

Tom gave her a look, making his eyes go molten. Hermione's breath caught and she squirmed.

"Oh, Hermione," he purred. "I do look forward to finding out."