This came out of nowhere, it really honestly did. It's finish, so expect daily updates.

So without further stalling,

Enjoy!

Hermione slipped away from the rest of her friends. Mrs. Weasley had made a furious attack on the house and had finally made it so it was of living condition. The walls were clean, the house elf heads removed and that nasty picture of Mrs. Black had been silenced. What she was happiest about was that each of them had their own room now. Mrs. Weasley had mailed them asking about what colors they would prefer. Ron's was orange, that team's – the one he liked – colors. It was also far more comfortable than it had been.

She slipped into her room and closed the door. She wanted privacy. She found her trunk and dug around for a bit. Eventually she found the box she had borrowed – on a probably permanent basis – from the library. It was filled with journal books. She had been bored when she found them in the far back of the library, stuffed behind a bunch of books like they had been put away quickly. When she had wanted to put it on her library card, Mrs. Pinch scrunched up her nose and screeched for her to take the filth from her library.

She hadn't gotten a chance to read them yet. She settled in the corner of her room, a beanbag in a soft purple color stood there, placed the little box next to her and took the first journal with the earliest date of that year out. It was far back, in the time when Dumbledore was still a Professor teaching at the school.

The front of the diary read:

Amanda Riley

Sixth Year

Prefect

1945

*

The sixth year Rawenclaw prefect idly walked along the silent corridors of Hogwarts. After the last year's incident they were required to patrol the corridors in shifts. Hers had just started. She didn't know what good it would do. Honestly. If they were to meet whatever or whoever had killed Myrtle then sixth year magic wasn't going to be of much help. That she was certain of. Of course Amanda had long ago learned not to argue with Professor Dippet, he often only saw what he wanted. She had a reason for preferring Professor Dumbledore over the headmaster.

She knew many of the prefects patrolling the school corridor, would often find a hidden passage to fall asleep in. She had never done it before herself, she had heard of what happened if Tom Riddle found them, as she preferred not to get into trouble. Her thoughts strayed to their current Head Boy. Riddle was a handsome boy. She's had a crush on him since first year. He was a seventh year Slytherin. Riddle had a strange way about him. It was like he knew something the rest of them didn't. She assumed he knew quite a bit about what they didn't, but it always seemed darker to her.

She knew he was dangerous. It was hard not to. He had this air around him that was like the lure of a spider's web. She knew the Slytherins only had praise for him, but she also knew that after the incident with Myrtle last year Professor Dumbledore was watching him very carefully. She's always been curious and investigative by nature. That combined with her smarts had always gotten her praise from those around her. She wondered if Hagrid expulsion was because they had no other proof. After all, if Riddle had said something then who would believe the Gryffindor boy who so often raised creatures beneath his bed against the boy who would become the head boy? There was just no argument that Riddle would win.

She was brought from her thoughts at the clatter of something metallic falling to the ground. She frowned, she couldn't see clearly in the dimly lit corridors. The fact that it was storming outside didn't help much either, only made it darker. She pulled her wand out from her robe's side and muttered the illumination's spell. A small round circle of light flickered to life and strengthened. "Hallo?" She questioned into the darkness ahead. She could see a couple of shadows scurrying as the tried to pick something off the floor. "Hey! What are you doing?" She questioned marching over to them.

She was met, once she could see more clearly, with the sight of two Slytherin second years. They gazed up at her somewhere between contempt, disdain and worry. In front of them was a sliver platter loaded with various goodies now scattered across the ground. The brunette haired boy had a furious blush on his face at being caught and the other just gazed at her as if she was the one in the wrong place. She glared at them in silent reprimand.

She knew she was more annoyed with her fellow prefect than she was with them. If the boy hadn't gone and broken his leg in and earlier Quidditch match then there wouldn't have been a need for her to be patrolling the damn corridors. "Where'd you get that?" She knew full well where they got it.

The blonde scowled at her. "The kitchens." He said as if she was dumb. She wanted to tell him he's the one in Slytherin and she the one in Rawenclaw; if anyone was supposed to look at someone like they were dumb, it was her.

"And why were you even in the kitchens?" She questioned crossing her arms; she made sure that her wand was at the top so as to shed light on them.

The brunette piped up then. His voice quivering slightly as if he was afraid of something. "We wanted the elves to give us something to eat." He said simply.

She scowled. "You're not supposed to do that! The elves aren't…" She trailed off as their eyes suddenly widened in fear as if they had seen the Grim Reaper himself. The young muggle-born witch frowned at them. "What? I'm not that scary." She snapped.

A hand fell onto her shoulder. The familiarly dangerous and powerful air that belonged only to Tom Riddle surrounded them. She knew that while the Slytherins had most praise for Riddle, they were also the most afraid of him. She listed off plausible excuses for the current situation, suddenly not wanting the two boys to get in trouble with the Slytherin head boy. "What's going on here?" He questioned. His tone wasn't nearly as loud as hers had been, but it had a more desired effect on the two first years.

She turned around, pulling away from his hand. "Oh, you know boys. They got hungry." She explained quickly. She still felt the strange urge to keep the two boys from trouble. "So when I caught them sneaking around earlier and asked them what they were doing, they told me and I figured it would be ok if they asked the elves for a couple of things to take back to their dorms." She continued to explain, using her hands. Minerva, the young witch who's family has lived next door to her for years, often told her that it was easy to see when she lied because it was the only time she used her hands. Minerva was a first year, this year. It wasn't until Amanda had gotten her letter to join the ranks of Hogwarts students that the McGonnagal family had told them about their heritage. She had learned most of what she knew from Mr. McGonnagal. "I told them to hurry so they wouldn't get caught; I guess they were a little hasty." She laughed nervously.

She couldn't see the two Slytherin boys behind her, but the look on Riddle's face said it all. If she thought he believed her, she was sorely mistaken. She quickly spun around, feeling his gaze burn into her back, and helped the two boys pick up the various sweets. She charmed the tray to float after them and shooed them away. Riddle didn't leave as she had thought he would. He was appraising her figure with his dark eyes when she rose to her feet. She knew her skirt was a little short, it was the one she had thought would still sit the same way it had since her third year, but it seemed once people became sixteen they grew a little more. She felt a blush creep onto her face, but forced it down. "They'll make use of your kindness now." He said turning away in a flurry of cloaks suddenly.

She stared after his retreating back and scowled angrily. If Jonathan hadn't gone and broken his leg, this would never have happened to her. She stalked back the way she came, turning left and stalking down that corridor too. She silently wished for her diary to write down the encounter. Was it really that hard to notice her as anything but another student? What she was supposed to do? Convince the Slytherin password from an obnoxious snake and flaunt herself naked on his bed? She wouldn't do that to save her life.

Each dorm had a room specifically used for the Head Boy or girl from that house. Whenever the year brought up a Head Boy from another house, the room was locked. It was separate from the rooms of the others and she had dreamt of having Rawenclaw's as her own since her first year. Her fist year had been the last time a Rawenclaw had been Head boy or Girl. The girl had told her what it took to become a Head at Hogwarts and since she had worked hard for it. She was certain she would get the position, she could put in a good word or two with Professor Dumbledore, and she knew he had a soft spot for her. It might be because she was an excellent transfigurations student.

She just wished her Herbology marks would be as high as her Transfiguration marks. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either. It was average, and average was not good enough. She knew she wasn't supposed to complain, her grades were nothing like Riddle's, but most would wish to have her grades.

She sighed and slowed her steps. Her wristwatch informed her politely that it was still hours before she would have to go to the great hall. She decided to wander down toe the dungeons. There were always people to catch and reprimand. She didn't like scolding people, but what else was she supposed to do? She stopped at the top of the stairs; the darkened corridor below was even darker than the corridors.

Lightening flashed at that moment, filling up the whole front hall with light. She could've sworn she saw a figure standing down below and frowned. "Hallo?" She wondered why she did that every time she saw someone. She scowled and straightened her shoulders. She wasn't afraid of anything the castle and she wasn't about to start now. She still couldn't help but take hesitant steps down the stairs. Eventually she stood on solid ground in the dungeons. The torches were even further apart and the shadows seemed to be moving in their constant flicker. She shook her head, she was only scaring herself and she was a witch. She pulled her wand out again and muttered the illuminations charm to its maximum and looked around. In her immediate vicinity there was no one.

She hesitantly stepped forward. The dungeons weren't her favorite place, why Professor Slughorn had to have his class down here only he would know. She steadied her hand when it felt like it would be shaking. It was just her luck that she was bloody curious by nature. She preferred her fifth floor staircase to Rawenclaw's dorms. She couldn't see anything and wondered for a moment if she hadn't imagined the shadow. Maybe she had. She was tired and didn't want to be patrolling corridors for a second time.

"Afraid of the dungeons?" The question caught her unawares and she spun around, wand held aloft. Riddle smirk at her from where he stood with his hands behind his back. Her green eyes flashed from one side to the other. How had she missed him? She frowned. She had missed him earlier as well. She hadn't known he was there until he touched her.

"Where'd you come from?" She asked stupidly. She realized this a moment later. He had every right to be in the dungeons. His dorms were down here. She flushed scarlet as his chuckle echoed eerily around them. "Never mind." She murmured. She turned around and looked around again. Maybe he had been the shadow she had seen. There was something strange about Tom Riddle.

*

Hermione jumped a mile when Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed through the house, calling them to dinner. She hadn't gotten far, she contemplated skipping dinner and going down later, but shook her head. She didn't want to be interrupted when she continued reading. She could read as far into the night as she wanted, it was Christmas break after all.

She placed a bookmark in her place and went down to dinner. She didn't want to seem rushed, but finished as quickly as possible. She spoke as little as possible and found little to no interest in further questions about what Voldemort was up to. She merely wanted to return to her book reading. She had this sense that it was important to finish this book.

*

"Still afraid?" He questioned, suddenly right behind her. She suppressed the shiver running down her body and turned around again. She hadn't realized just how much taller Tom Riddle was than her until she came face to chest with him. He smirked down at her.

Her mouth felt dry. "N-no." She said, cursing herself for the slight stammer in her voice.

He laughed softly and she wanted to step back from him. "Are you afraid of me?" He questioned softly, brushing his hand across her cheek and into her hair.

She wondered where this was coming from. Tom Riddle wasn't known to have ever wanted anything to do with girls. He had always been far more concerned with his studies. "N-no." She said with as much conviction as she could in her stammering.

He chuckled again softly and dropped his hand from her face and turned around. "Leave the dungeons to me, patrol upstairs." He said before leaving in another flurry of robes. She stood there, feeling completely lost. It felt like the insides of her body was shaking so hard her teeth were rattling.

Amanda slowly made her way back to the front hall. At the doors leading to the Great Hall she stopped and lifted the hand not clenched around her wand to her face. Her hands were trembling; the light from the tip of her wand caused the shadows to dance. She frowned at the hand she was studying. Why was she afraid? Riddle had a dark dangerous air around him, but that was merely what would make him a brilliant Auror. She had no reason to be afraid. Least of all of some obnoxious boy.

A strange feeling settled in her stomach. She clenched her hands into fists and marched back to her corridor. It was best to ignore the unsettling feeling. Tom Riddle wasn't really dangerous. He was probably just like that boy she saw in that movie over the summer. He acted all tough and dangerous, but merely wanted the attention of his parents. Everyone at school knew Tom Riddle's story. She frowned again. He didn't particularly look like he cared about learning who his parents were, unless of course he already knew. And even if he did know, he didn't look like he was too broken up about them not wanting him.

It was like… she stomped on the thought. Curiosity killed the cat. She was no cat, nor was she curious about some Slytherin boy's family. She refused to let her silly little feelings for some boy get in the way of her dream. She sighed and leaned against the wall of her corridor. She hadn't even noticed she had reached it. She wondered when Professor Dippet would call of the added security. Myrtle was already dead, give it a couple of months and it would be a year, and according to Riddle Hagrid's monster had fled the castle.

She wasn't sure what to believe when it came to Myrtle's death. According to Myrtle (her ghost refused to leave!) she saw a pair of golden eyes before she died. Hagrid argued hand, foot and teeth that his monster's eyes were red. One would think a case would go faster with no suspect and a ghost to testify. Amanda was certain most muggle courts would love to have a ghost of a victim testifying.

She sighed displeased that there was still so much time left before her shift would end. A full two hours of the eerie nonsense left. She wished she had brought her journal along, at least she would've had something to write about the encounters she been having. She couldn't help but think it strange that suddenly, in one hour, Tom Riddle had spoken more to her than he had ever in five years before.

Crush or not, she had always pegged him as a muggle born hating type. Stereotype probably as it was what most Slytherins did.

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to think.

She sighed as she glanced at her watch. It seemed time had something against her. She'd have thought it would be nearer three now. It wasn't long before her thoughts returned to a certain Slytherin. Tom speaking or even touching her was unnatural. She couldn't help but wonder what he was up to.

She was used to staying up late. Her younger brother often didn't sleep well, and bother her parents worked night shifts. Her mother at a nearby restaurant and her father with the police. She used to stay up until he fell asleep and that sometimes took ages. But now she was tired. She wanted to sleep so badly.

She wandered aimlessly around the corridor and waited for time to pass. Finally as she made her way back to her common room she thought she felt someone watching her. She stopped midway up the stairs and slowly turned around. She was met with nothing but darkness and quickly walked al the way to Ravenclaw common room. She answered the riddle and quietly walked through the common room. She entered her dorm room silently. The other girls were all asleep. She merely dug around in her trunk for an ink pot and quill and set it on her bed. She changed into her night clothes and drew the curtains and began to write next to the light of her wand.

*

Hermione couldn't help but feel giddy as she finished the first entry. It was a love story. A story of events that had really taken place at Hogwarts. She was half tempted to jump right to the end and read all about their happy ending. She wondered if Amanda and Tom had grandchildren or were even still alive. Fifty years was enough to grow up in twice. She couldn't wait to see if Tom would be able to woo Amanda or if her uncertainty (for Hermione was sure she was merely uncertain and not afraid) would doom them.