Tom sat near the head of the Slytherin table, congratulating every new Slytherin. So far, only three of the first years were sorted into Slytherin. Most were sorted into Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
On a couple of occasions he caught Hermione looking at him. He knew she was only watching him for effects of the potion but it still pleased him greatly.
Abraxas sat down in front of him. "It seems like your plan worked. That Gryffindor is acting like all the other dames."
Tom shot Abraxas a glare. His personality had done a complete flip ever since he obliviated himself. Tom found himself wishing for the old, not as obnoxious Malfoy, but he had promised Hermione not to tamper with his mind more than it already has been.
"Unfortunately, your assumption would be wrong," drawled Tom. He had the sinking suspicion that he was going to miss Nott, Lestrange, and Avery, especially Nott. Curse them for being a year older than him.
Abraxas frowned, something that looked unnatural on his usually pleasant exterior. "So I'm not allowed in the group. The deal was to wait until that Gryffindor was by your side." His silver eyes took on a wicked glint. "I could always help. I'm sure I could persuade her to see things our way."
Tom had to suppress a shudder. He definitely preferred the old Abraxas. "You can be in the group, just don't go near Hermione." Tom spared a glance over to the girl. She was currently shaking the hand of the newest Gryffindor who Tom realized was the muggleborn he met earlier. "But first, you need to learn to lighten up. You're too cold," said Tom absentmindedly.
Abraxas snorted then decided to go sit with a group of girls.
Soon, all the sortings were done and the food appeared before them. As they ate, Dippet gave his annual speech.
Not long after, the feast was over. Tom led the new first years to the dungeons. He noticed that most didn't seem to be too excited by the aspect of living in the dungeons. Tom remembered that he was like that during his first year too.
Hanging in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room was a portrait of Salazar Slytherin. "Basilisk," said Tom and the portrait swung open.
He led the first years to their dorm room before he went to his. When he opened the door, his eyebrows furrowed together. Instead of the six beds that had been there for the past six years, there were now only five. Tom also noticed that his things weren't anywhere in the room.
"Where is my trunk?" Tom's roommates shrugged their shoulders before turning back to unpacking.
Tom turned on his heel and left out the door. Before he made it to the common room, a butterfly parchment floated to him. He recognized the butterfly shape as belonging to Dippet. The coot must have done something to his belongings. He unfolded the small parchment with his long fingers.
Tom,
I have decided to change things up this year. You will find your things up on the seventh floor in your new dorm. I have the inkling that this year will be quite difficult for Hermione and decided that the two of you should share a dorm so that you can help each other out with head duties. Do not try to take advantage of my hospitality but do use it for advantage. The two of you will make a lovely couple and you have my full support.
Headmaster Dippet.
Tom groaned. A few Slytherins who happened to be nearby overheard him and shot curious stares in his direction.
With quick strides, he left the Slytherin common room. He was going to wind up strangling the old coot, he could see it now.
Once on the seventh floor, he strode down the corridor until he came upon a door he had never seen before. "Badge," demanded the old lady in the portrait. Tom held up his head badge and the portrait swung open to reveal a spacious, homely looking common room. Well, it was more like a living room than a common room.
A door on the left opened to reveal Hermione. "I was beginning to thank that Dippet forgot to tell you," she huffed.
Tom held up the parchment from Dippet between two fingers. "This arrived after I discovered my things missing. Is that my room?" Tom pointed to a door on the right.
Hermione nodded. "Yeah."
Before Tom walked into his new room, he turned back to Hermione. "You need to start acting like a perfect granddaughter and rain in that old coot before I strangle him." At Hermione's puzzled and slightly appalled look, he tossed the letter to her that Dippet had written him.
Tom waited in front of his door as he watched a series of emotions play out on her face. "I'm so sorry," she finally said. "I told him to be discreet but apparently that's not something he's very good at."
"What would he need to be discreet at?"
Hermione released a loud sigh before plopping down on the couch. She plucked up a pillow and held it close to her. "I may have told him your secret." At his expression, she rushed on to explain, "trying to create a cure was more difficult than I had first thought and I wanted his advice. I also wanted to make sure that we were close to each other in case the potion backfires, and I may have asked him if he could find a way to let us remain as close as we were in the Manor."
Tom sputtered before he could get out a full coherent sentence. "You're responsible for our new living arrangements?" Hermione nodded. Tom knew he should be more angry at the fact that she told his darkest secret to someone instead of the fact that she was responsible for them now having to live together. How was he supposed to keep his feelings hidden from the little witch when the time he had to see her suddenly increased?
"How are you feeling? From the potion?" asked Hermione nervously.
Tom didn't even bother with answering her. Instead he entered into his new room and slammed the door shut.