A/N: I'm not too sure if any of you are still reading this… review to let me know if you're still interested, readers! I know I have a few of you loyal ones that always let me know how I'm doing and what I can do to improve, so thank you very much!

My cheeks grew red at my own impatience- seriously; couldn't two teenagers have a conversation in a hall without being bugged insistently? "Milord." Hollingway whispered in his direction, and I pretended to not to leaning in. "Mister Parkinson and Healer Nott are in Slughorn's office awaiting your presence."

What was he doing talking to Pyrus and Penelope Parkinson's and Ezryne Nott's dads, and this late in the evening? I wasn't aware students were even allowed to talk to visitors outside of Headmaster Dippet's offices! Armando Dippet was perhaps the shittiest headmaster to ever have graced the hallways of Hogwarts- he had let evil in, and he let it fester inside the walls of his very own academic constitution.

So without another word, Riddle nodded farewell to me and walked away with Hollingway on his tail.

I immediately took action by jogging my way through the winding hallway on the other end, hoping to cut Voldemort off on my way- when I came up to the dungeons where Snape used to make my life a living hell, I jumped behind a hanging tapestry as Riddle found his way inside of the room. When I was positive Hollingway was not lurking about, I stepped forward and leaning into the door, praying to Merlin it wouldn't squeak with my weight upon it.

The heavy wooden door blocked out their voices, so I put the tip of my wand ever-so-lightly against the door and closed my eyes in concentration. "…yes, Mister Parkinson, I understand your worries and apprehension- they are not misdirected." Riddle had his sweet boy tone, "But your son is an exceptional student, as well as your son Healer Nott. They are flourishing greatly here, and I believe that you will do nothing good to their progress by taking them away from Hogwarts."

I hadn't met Penelope Parkinson's older brother yet, but his reputation certainly preceded him. Lavinia admitted to dating him for a few months before his exclusivity and closed-off attitude became more than she could deal with. She also mentioned he was quite gifted at potion-making, which was probably his role in the Death Eater circle.

I swallowed throatily. He was begging them to let their sons stay, then? How funny would it have been to see someone as high and mighty as Lord Voldemort to beg his follower's parents to allow their kids to stay at this school? "Mrs. Parkinson does not see it so black and white, Tom." I could almost see the wince on Voldemort's voice at hearing his Muggle name said so outright. "My wife is a difficult witch at times, but I certainly understand her fears this time 'round. Tom, boy, do you see what this crazy wizard is? He is out to kill people, the purer the better." Mr. Parkinson had a low, gruffly voice that was difficult to hear through the door.

A third voice sounded, one I assumed that belonged to Healer Nott. He coughed loudly before moving around the room. "What sort of assurance can you give us? Surely nothing worth allowing our children as bait for Grindelwald and his regime of crazed fans?" It was insanely ironic that they were talking to one madman about another madman. Couldn't they smell evil when they saw it? Healer Nott was a highly decorated healer that served St. Mungos for longer than any other wizard of our times, he both smart and reasonable. "I appreciate your concern for my son, but it is misplaced. If you knew what was good for you, you'd hightail it out of here as well." He was getting closer and closer to the door, almost with his hand on the knob, but Voldemort's voice halted him.

Tom stopped them in their tracks. "I can promise high ranks," my eyebrows knitted together at his 'promise', "if I am sure that Ezryne can stick it out through the terror of Grindelwald, I will allow him entrance to my inner circle. That is my assurance, Healer Nott." The room when deadly quiet with his proclamation.

"Inner circle?" Mr. Parkinson spluttered. I silently wondered just how many followers Riddle had in order to group them with 'inner circle' and 'outer circle'…ten, fifteen, twenty? It made my head spin wildly, suddenly realizing just what I was up against. It seemed doable when I assumed he stuck to Malfoy and Hollingway, even if they both came from highly-acclaimed, prominent wizardry bloodlines.

But I was just one girl against a whole regime of blood-thirsty wizards now!

"The same goes for your son, Mr. Parkinson. Pyrus has brilliant potential, as well as his sister if not for her loose sense of discretion." Whelp, that sure sounds like Pansy to me, I wanted to add in. "Both of your sons will have the pleasure of joining me in my quest, if they are proven worthy. This," his voice was more slithery in that moment than ever before, "is the perfect opportunity for that to happen. Let me ask of you this- will your sons be better prepared for the world if they are coddled by their mothers or allowed to fight along side legends, having the chance to become legends themselves?"

Was this Hitler or Tom Riddle speaking? He was affluent and educated; it was hard to pick at the discrepancies in his voice, and so hardly anyone ever truly questioned what he said.

I silently prayed that these men would be the great fathers I wished them to be. Take your kids and run, please, I beg of you, I internally screamed. Take them away from this place and away from this bloody bastard if you ever truly love them.

"Very well, I will entrust you with my son's and daughter's life, Mister Riddle." The formality in Mr. Parkinson's voice was enough to make me want to pull my hair out- did these men know that they were signing their kids' death wishes? "But if this evil git invades the country of Scotland, or this school, and they are harmed…" Mr. Parkinson snorted out a bout of breath through his nose. "I will destroy your name, your human form, and anything else that is dear to you."

Well that's easy enough, nothing is dear to him.

Riddle chuckled in response.

"Perhaps if I were two feet shorter with as little wand experience as the average seventh year, that might have scared me. But let me tell you this- and this goes for either of you. I do not take threats lightly." He switched off from a begging brat to a distinguished wizard in just under a minute. "But I will allow your folly this once- do you have any further concerns?" The men both stood up at such a point and made their way to the door, but I didn't stick around and watch. I ran as fast as my short leg took me, all the way down the stone staircase and didn't stop until I made it through

the Slytherin portrait and up to my dorm.

Saturday-

After Lavinia and I finished our Herbology detentions, Professor Buglejart cleared

our names of trouble and let us leave a few minutes early to our satisfaction. "You know, that was the very first time I have ever been late for class in six plus years." She muttered bitterly.

"Me too." I chimed in.

"Truly?" Lavi sent me a curious side glance, as if waiting to catch me in a lie.

I nodded with a sly smile. "Yes, I was- am very serious about my studies. I had two very irresponsible best friends that nearly begged me to slack off with them any chance they had, but after a few years they came to understand my need for knowledge." Just thinking about Harry and Ron brought a big smile to my face. They were impossible jerks at their best, but I loved them for all of their jagged edges and off-balance acts. "I suppose you are very lucky to have female pals that actually promote the completion of schoolwork and high test scores."

Lavi's eyebrows rose in unabashed curiosity. "Your best friends were both boys? Interesting." Though she wasn't as aloof as the few days before, we definitely weren't much closer to painting each other's nails and having sleepovers. "Are they perhaps the reason behind your choice to be here?"

I tossed the question around in my head, using silence to contemplate every answer I came up with me. We rode the staircases down to the ground floor and met at the crowded plaza with the countless other students heading in for lunch. "Yes and no." I finally replied.

"Well it can't be both ways! Either yes for them, or no for another." Lavi shrugged easily.

It was a quick fix for her because she could never understand the magnitude of my travels or experiences. She didn't understand my mind, and if she couldn't than I doubted any other could.

"Yes, I am partly here for them. No, I am not here for only them. It was always us three, but we had many friends and allies that were also heavily involved in everything. As well as foes- in my time, enemies are friends and friends are enemies." She sent me an odd look at that, but we were silenced ad Verlaine cut our direction off before we even made it to their table.

"Lavinia, have you heard?" She was excited, scared, and jumpy all at once. Her oxford blouse was for once buttoned all the way up and her fingers were knotted all together, as though she were expecting Queen Elizabeth to walk through the doors at once. When my companion shook her head in a dazed manner, Verlaine jumped right in. "It's your father, and mine, as well as some others! They're all here, here in Hogwarts!" I swallowed nervously. Oh no, oh dear this couldn't be happening!

Vicomte Brocklehurst was quite known in this time, as Mandy once told me of her great-grandparents, but he would be the last to carry his title and therefore the reign of a bobble-head Vicomte of Deularich died with him in old age. What was the duty of a Vicomte in any sense, and in the Wizardry world no less?

An even better question was why he was here in Hogwarts- weren't there more pressing matters in Deularich? "Do you suppose we're in some sort of trouble?" Verlaine spurted worriedly. I was sure Lavinia would scold her for even assuming their pristine names could be attached to trouble, but she said nothing at all.

I looked to and fro the two girls worriedly. Did they fear their fathers so? Should I have fallen in line with them and feared for their safety as well? "Surely it is nothing serious." I tried to comfort them softly. "It is probably just a council meeting with the Heads of Hogwarts, nothing more." I placed a consoling hand on Lavinia's shoulder, but she shrugged off quickly.

"My father isn't a governor of the board, or member the council." Lavinia said shakily. "He is an investor and donator to Hogwarts, but that is the extent of his involvement with my schooling. I suppose, until now." She pursed her lips and I pretended not to notice the redness starting around her eyes.

Verlaine clutched onto Lavinia's long sleeve top as a tiny poppet would to her mother's skirts. "Lavi, do you think they're here… for that?" I tried to avert my eyes from their special bonding moment to look around the other tables, searching for anything out of the ordinary. As much as I wanted to lean in and hear their whispering, I fought the urge and hung back. My eyes searched long and hard, spotting very few students that started to stand out, Malfoy being the only one that mattered. A matter concerning Lavinia, Verlaine, Malfoy, and all of their fathers?

I couldn't fathom such an ideal, instead let Lavi lead the way as we snuck out of the Great Hall- though we more or less plainly walked out, seeing as everyone looked to be rather concerned with their own business for once. We walked in pregnant silence for awhile, her shoulders tense with secrecy and vigilance and my footsteps falling short with uncertainty. Was he pulling her out of school? Had she owled him about her run-in with me, and now I would be kicked out as well?

I licked my lips out of nervousness and pulled at her arm, stopping us before she had the chance to take another step. "What's going on, Lavinia?" When she averted her eyes, I yanked a little harder. "No, don't do that! You told me that in order for us to work together, we had to have full trust in one another. It's your turn to prove yourself." I crossed my arms sassily, not ready to take no for an answer.

Lavinia sighed loudly, her fingers coming up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

She blew out a short breath before starting. "I'm not quite sure myself, though Verlaine is adamant that this has to do with our pending betrothals between families." I shuddered at her use of the word 'betrothals'- did all male purebloods treat their children like pieces of meat to be bartered for money and power? "But if Lord Malfoy is here, I am not so sure." When I sent her a questioning look, she threw me a pitying look and leaned against the closest stone wall for support.

Lavi smiled darkly, a memory perhaps playing out in her mind as she spoke. "Abraxas can have his pick of the litter," I scowled at her analogy but didn't dare interrupt her, "anytime he pleases. He doesn't need his father to come down to Hogwarts in support of his decision." The thought of having to marry any generation of Malfoy made my insides twist. They were a congregation of pig-headed, cocky bigots with far too much money and influence for their own good. "I personally think it has something to do with Grindelwald mess."

I was taken aback by her blunt response. Grindelwald… that name made me cringe with contempt. He was a sloppy, foolish wizard that died out in a rather lame manner by way his best friend's hand, our very own Dumbledore. "But hasn't he been captured?" I knew Dumbledore did not harm that vindictive brute as of yet, we still had about a year to go until such a time. "And what does it have to do with all of your fathers here?"

Lavi shut her eyes tight. "Since my father is Vicomte of an Eastern providence, he would have heard word of any rebuttal or alliance pertaining to that vile wizard. As well as Lord Malfoy or any other well-connected Wizard in the Ministry, so it is more reasonable to assume that's why they're here. Not for marriage proposals, but perhaps… extraction proposals." I believed that both hearts sank to the bottom of stomachs at her clarification. If she left, I could possibly have no ally at all for the rest of my time here. And if Grindelwald got a hold of her or the Brocklehurst family by some freak chance? Everything could be ruined.

And then another thought completely took me by surprise.

What if their fathers were here, for the very same reason the Nott's and Parkinson's fathers were here? To speak with Tom Riddle himself… to be convinced that by his side was where every single impressionable teen should be. I suddenly couldn't look at either them with a straight face anymore, so I merely looked back down at my shiny shoes. I truly could not trust anyone, could I?

A/N: Thank you to every single one that still follows this story!