Authors note: Sorry for the long absence was without a lap top for about six months. This has been beta'd first by Atlantean Diva, but has been beta'd again and looked over by Kit Kat who caught a few mistakes we missed the first time. Chapter 11 will be up ASAP. Just doing some refreshing and clean up. Please leave a review I love them. Ps: I do not own harry potter, JK Rowling does.
The bushy haired witch sighed and looked to the empty seats next to her. Wondering where on earth the boys had gone off to. If they had skipped class by the time she found them, she would make them regret it. If they thought for two minutes that she would let them copy her potions notes; They had another thing coming. Not that Harry needed it. "He has that book by the Half-Blood Prince. He doesn't need my notes or my help. If he loses the book I still won't help him." She thought. Don't fool yourself Hermione; you know you'll help Harry. No matter how angry you are at him. She growled continuing the mental argument with herself. "At least I don't have to cheat." She muttered out loud.
"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" The kind, somewhat manipulative, and sweet voice of an aging professor Slughorn asked. She blushed, noticing she had angrily crushed her beetles a little too fine during her argument with herself.
"Careful, Miss Granger, too fine and the potion won't congeal correctly." He told her having noticed the mistake as well, before continuing. "Where are Potter and Weasley?" He questioned as his eyes fell to the empty seats on either side of her.
"They went to the hospital wing. They weren't feeling well, sir…I was distracted because I was worried…It won't happen again." This of course was a complete lie. But she didn't want them to get into trouble, even if they deserved it.
Once the professor turned his back and resumed his rounds, she went back to arguing and analyzing herself. You need to let fourth year go. He is more interested in Cho, and he had only done that to cheer you up. Not to mention, he has the Dark Lord to worry about now. Ron's lost interest as well. He spends most of his time with Lavender. But there is still a chance that Harry and I could…Could what? She thought frowning as she fought back the tears that threatened her eyes. Even if it is small, it's still hope and I won't let go of it so easily. I won't be the only selfish one here. I'll wait for him and help when I'm needed. She vowed, ignoring the nagging feeling that the vow would be in vain.
Hermione went back to her potions with a renewed vigor, doing everything perfectly and by memory. She got the right amount of all the potion ingredients and timed the stirs correctly. By the end of the class she had made a perfect sleeping drought. She put the potion into small vials as she stood up and went over to Slughorn. She gave him the vials before she walked back to her work station, picking up her bag, putting her school supplies in it and swinging it over her shoulder as she walked out the door. She quickly ran to the library to get some work done.
She wanted to get a head-start on her homework before dinner time. She went to her favorite spot in the back corner of the library and took out her book, quill, ink, and parchment from her bag. Making sure she had everything, she opened the book and buried her nose in it, letting herself get lost in the comforting pages and the information it held within.
It wasn't until much later when she had finished, she had realized what time it was and that she had missed dinner, again. Quickly grabbing her things she swung her bag over her shoulder, and waved to Madam Pince on her way out. She made her way to the common room as quickly as she could, her earlier frustration returned ten-fold. She was a witch on a mission, and she would not allow anyone to mess with her.
As she entered the common room Seamus and several other students recognized that she was in a mood and had scattered faster than you could say "quill". She did a quick scan around the room. Finding the boys easily she marched over and slammed a book down onto their table to get their attention. "Why weren't you in potions today? You are never going to learn anything if you skip a class. I'm not letting you copy my notes! It is absolutely ridiculous that you would think for one moment that you could get away with this!"
"I-" Harry began but she quickly cut him off without giving him the chance to reply.
"Don't get me started Harry James Potter! You have that book, so you really don't need MY help in the first place. However, you shouldn't let that get to your head it's still YOUR responsibility to get to class!"
"-had to talk to Professor Dumbledore." Harry finished, staring at the big book in Hermione's hands apprehensively.
She blushed now feeling utterly guilty. "Sorry."
"It's ok." Harry smiled at her. Their eyes locked, and she instantly felt herself relaxing into his emerald gaze. He had that effect on her.
"I got distracted by Lavender…" Ron feebly replied.
Hermione bristled at the mention of Brown, her calmness instantly fading. Ron realized too late, he had said the wrong thing.
"Since you could not help it, Harry, you can borrow my notes, just this once." She handed him her parchment with that day's notes.
"As for you Ronald Weasley, Lavender Brown IS NOT a legitimate excuse to miss class!" Hermione stated, feeling angry and hot and utterly irritated and infuriated, at the both of them. She decided she needed air. She marched to the portrait hole, leaving both boys confused and looking at each other.
"She must be on her period." Ron muttered. Harry nodded in agreement. Hermione hearing this shot a spell at their heads as she went through the portrait hole. Harry was able to duck but Ron wasn't so quick, pimples had started to grow on Ron's face causing a roar of laughter from some of the other students.
Hermione quietly walked to the abandoned part of the castle that wasn't far from the old ruins. Her feet took her past dusty old portraits, some you could barely make out the painting. "Why is it that both of them have someone and I don't? I thought Harry and I…" She shook her head ridding herself of the memory. She wasn't going to go there. I hate how I'm nothing more than a back-up plan: the bushy haired bookworm, mud blood, nobody, who would always be the golden trio's brain, nothing more than their proverbial crutch!
The area she walked to had not been used in over hundreds of years. It was her safe haven, a place she wouldn't be found when she needed to cool her head. Lately she had been coming here a lot. She was starting to feel unwanted and unneeded. Ron had Lavender. Harry had more problems than he could deal with. He also had his eye on Cho in spite of what the disasters had been in fourth and fifth year.
All she could do was be there for them when they needed her help, which wasn't often anymore since Harry had Professor Dumbledore, the Half-Blood Prince, Ron and countless other people. He rarely came and asked her for anything. Ron never pulled away from Lavender long enough to give Hermione the time of day, of course unless he wanted to copy her homework. She frowned, wishing for the fourth time that week that she was somewhere else. Somewhere, where she was needed. She wanted to be on a adventure where she could define herself as a young woman and capable witch.
She wanted to prove that she was not just a know-it-all, bookworm. She wanted to find love with someone who would welcome her input and intelligence. Preferably someone who had brains enough to hold an intelligent conversation, and would accept her no matter who she was, or what she was thinking, or her views. A person who would not condemn her for being anything but conservative. Someone who would respect for not flaunting her assets like every other brainless teenage witch (or muggle teenager for that matter). A person she did not have to constantly think about her blood status around. That was her dream, a dream that seemed impossible.
She shook the very un-Hermione like thoughts and feelings out that were becoming more and more frequent from her mind. She sat on the window seat of the room. She opened the book that was still in her hands and went back to the paragraph she was reading earlier in the library. "Love is as much of an object as it is an obsession. Everybody wants it, everybody seeks it, but few achieve it and those who do will cherish it, be lost in it and above all never, ever forget it." As Hermione read that, she snorted at the appropriateness of that statement. That was exactly how she felt about love at that moment. She had long grown out of the childish delusion that she could find love in Ron. Lets face it. They were nothing alike, he could never give her the mental stimulation she craved. She needed someone who was intelligent enough to challenge her and force her to think.
She had felt Harry and her had something. After all, they had kissed in fourth year. Tears brimmed in her eyes at the memory of her first and only kiss. It was to the point where the idea of love seemed impossible. However, a part of her still believed.
Shutting the book before she could have another mood swing, She stared out from behind the long since shattered stained glass window towards the lake, which seemed beautiful from her point of view. The atmosphere always had seemed like it was radiating magic. On some cold quiet nights, Hermione could swear she could see an apparition on the island in the middle of the lake, A woman with silver hair in a ghostly white dress. She had never seen her anywhere in the castle, and she never knew if she truly saw her for she was gone the moment she tried to register the form. It was one of the reasons she was obsessed with Hogwarts, a history. Yet there were no stories in any books relating to any important events to that specific island. It added mystery to the place. It was nice to know after 5 years of schooling and trouble and unfurled secrets there was still something mysterious around. She never went there because she felt as if some things should remain mysteries. The island appealed to her, she was terribly curious about it and kept her eye out for any information. Tonight she didn't get a glimpse of the woman but, there was definitely something going on over on that Island. The trees were rustling and there was an energy coming from it.
Hermione yawned after a few moments of gazing and got out her diary from the hidden compartment of the windowsill seat, which could be found once you lifted the cushion and pulled up the latch hidden between the stone wall and the seat but it was hard to see. Opening up the dark blue diary, she stared at the cover with three silver mermaids resting on a rock with waves splashing, which she had charmed to move. They were surrounded by a silver boarder with small silver seashells on the four corners. They were made out of a metal so they protruded somewhat it added texture. The same material was used to make the swirly shells down the spine. She poured all her thoughts onto the crisp pages within the diary until the clock struck midnight. She started to doze off at her seat around the time the clock struck twelve. But then she heard something, something that sounded a lot like whispering. Hermione lifted her head as she looked around the room with observant eyes. She did not see anyone and she was about to go back to gazing out the shattered window, when she heard it again.
She tried to ignore it, but the whispering just grew louder and louder with more whispering joining in with the original. Starting to get curious on what the whispers were saying and who or what was whispering in the first place, she pocketed her diary and crept down the hall. She had never been this deep into the older part of the castle, so she had to continuously brush cobwebs and dust out of her hair and clothess as she got deeper and deeper in the wing.
The whispering grew louder and yet it was still impossible for her to figure out what was being said, if anything it became more jumbled the closer she got. When she got to the very last room of the wing, she pushed open the decaying door that had a large gash in it. as if a powerful spell had hit it. It was dirtier than all the other doors she had passed down the hall and it opened with a loud creaking sound, like the room was taking a deep breath after having held it for so long. It was almost as if she had been the first person to enter the abandoned room in over a thousand years.
Cautiously, she stepped into the room and the voices abruptly stopped. She looked around the room. The room was large and dusty. Cobwebs coated the walls and all the corners. Layers and layers of dust covered everything within the room. The bed was directly in front of her in the center of the room against the wall it looked like it was made of dust rather than any of the materials that had manage to be preserved. If there was anything left of it at all. The dust could be a hollow cast for all she knew. The tapestries hung in shreds upon the walls and there was a heavy smell of moth balls which she almost choked on as she inhaled.
This place reminds me of something that would be in a ghost movie. This place is so strange. I feel so strange being in here.. Like I shouldn't be here, but that is absurd. Of course I'm not supposed to be here. This is a forbidden area! Yeah that's it... Nothing to worry about Hermione, you've dealt with far worse than an old room, come on now.
There weren't many possessions in the room, just a bed, a night table, and two tapestries with an unknown animal embroidered on it. It was so old she couldn't tell what it was supposed to be. There was also a painting, and a bookshelf with 12 dusty old books that had the thinnest layer of dust as if they had been touched recently, but not for at least several decades. "I will have to look at those when I'm done looking around here." She thought as she stepped onto the stone in the room, her footfalls were softened by the dust that had kicked up around her feet with each step, leaving her shoe prints in her wake, however the dust still remained under the outline of the print. Showing she barely made a dent in it.
Hermione curiously went to the lone painting she noticed on the far left wall located diagonally from the beds left corner. She gently and with care, blew over the painting, removing some of the dust and cobwebs. Using the sleeve of her robes she removed as much of the dust as humanly possible. In the process she got close enough to smell what seemed like rotten wood and of musty, decaying fabric and mold, which caused her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. "This smells worse than Harry's clothes did after our ordeal in third year. Actually smells even worse than when he came back from the graveyard. Ugh! Now I smell like it." She thought grudgingly.
When she finished cleaning off the portrait, she could see the picture was no longer moving as if the spell that had caused the pictures to move had worn off completely. From what she could tell, the portrait didn't have as many thick of layers of dust, much like the books, than everything else in the room, from the falling down four-poser bed to the decaying spell books. The thinner layer of dust on the books and painting gave her the impression someone recently, though not recently enough, most likely a few decades ago had found themselves within the room. When she reevaluated the room to make sure her observations were correct. The books and painting were indeed cleaner, for everything else was so thick you could barely tell what they were.
Ugh, even if this place is out of use, they could at least attempt to keep it clean. I can only imagine what kind of bacteria is around here. I hope I don't get sick.
Suddenly what…no correction who the painting was of caught her eye. "Impossible…" She muttered, squinting as if the appearance of the man in the painting would change. The man was tall with black hair, a beard and piercing hazel eyes. There was the Slytherin crest pinned to his robes and a snake wrapped around the man's shoulders upper body over his right arm the creatures head was lifted. Some of its body was being held up by one of the mans hands. The other was rested on a balcony ledge. On that same hand was a ring in the shape of a snake that had emerald's for eyes and rubies along the scales of its back. She pulled out her wand "Scourgify!" She shouted. "Why didn't I think of that sooner?" She scowled. She hated feeling stupid when she forgot she could use magic for something instead of doing it the muggle way. The dust and dirt over the plaque instantly cleared. She was now able to read the name. There clear as day light was the unmistakable name of "Salazar Slytherin."
As many times as she had read her favorite book Hogwarts, a history. There were no pictures of him. It had just said that there were no known paintings of Salazar Slytherin. Only one vague description of his appearance and the statue that can be found in the chamber of secrets, however unlike Harry, she had never seen it. The only details of Salazar Slytherin were either from Harry's lips as he described the statue or the vague descriptions, she had found within the pages of Hogwarts, a history and other books.
An uneasy feeling was growing in the pit of her belly; she brought her wand out and prepared for the worse. She scanned the room as she sighed heavily. As her eyes roamed the room, she spotted one of the cupboard's doors, near the bottom of the bookshelves was open a crack. Curiously, she pulled the cupboard open, but when she looked inside she discovered it was completely empty.
She was about to get up when she happened to look down, she noticed a stone was loose in front of the cupboard. As if compelled to do it, Hermione used her nails to aid her in lifting the stone out of its place, revealing a dark hole. Summoning up her Gryffindor Courage, she reached her hand down into the hole that was only big enough to fit her arm through, had her arm not been slender, she would have never been able to stick her arm through the hole. She move her arm, reaching with her fingers, looking for any evidence that anyone could have left something behind, just as she was going to give up, her fingers brushed against a soft cloth. She dug her arm a bit deeper, straining herself as her shoulder pushed tightly against the wall. Doing this allowed her to get deep enough to grasp the tied cloth, and pull it out of the hole.
It was wrapped around something big and covered in webs and dust. "Like everything else in this room." She thought. Untying the knot that held it together, slowly the fabric fell away, revealing a silver music box. It had silver intricate ivy and leaves around the edges. The boarder was twisted in gold. The four corners of the top held silver roses and the latch was a fairy clinging onto the lock, though the lid had sprung open at the slightest feel of her touch. A small locket was the sole thing in it. As well as a note. She opened the old paper slowly and carefully, as if it would crumple to dust if she unfurled it to fast.
It was easy to see it was a females hand writing... The writing was loopy and elegant. On it was a small paragraph. "To whoever is reading this, I am probably long gone, as is my lover. History doesn't have to repeat itself. I have foreseen, someone would find this. I cannot say too much without altering things. So listen carefully. Don't make the same mistakes as me, child. You can change things. Just speak. "Tempus to the custos temporis."
"Just say time to the time keepers?" Hermione questioned herself. "Whoever wrote this, must have been completely mental. Sounds like a seer. They are all probably crazy. And delusional." She felt a small tug behind her navel. She couldn't just leave this alone. She sighed and decided she would at least humor what she read. She didn't trust seers as she thought they were all just a bunch of loony people, who made things up or predicted the worst outcome of everything. She thought hard. "Time keepers. Time…a clock!" She looked around the room but didn't see any clock. That was when she noticed that there was a small hatch in the bottom of the music box under the locket. Which she instinctively picked up and fastened around her neck. The locket was a simple silver with a Dove engraved on it with an ivy boarder. There was a bat dangling from the bottom of the locket. Then on the chain on either side was a Cat to the left and Fox on the right.
When she lifted the small hatch it revealed itself, once she removed the necklace. It uncovered a small compartment. Pulling out the object which turned out to be a small hourglass with a silver mouse attached to it. She frowned, another urgent tug at her chest this time caused her to bring the mouse to her lips, whispering to it. "Tempura." A second later, there was a blinding flash of light and the next it was gone. Nothing had happened. She gave a snort and put the hourglass back in its music box. Not noticing all of the sand had vanished from the hourglass.
She had just placed the music box inside of her bag and was standing up when she heard a male voice speak. "What are you doing here? This place is off limits."
Hermione nearly dropped her bag. Her entire body freezing, like a deer in headlights before her brain kicked in. She spun around to see who had spoken. She froze again as her mouth went dry when she saw a boy around her age standing in the doorway. His arms were folded across his chest and appeared to be glaring at her like he was about to commit murder.
He had jet black hair that fell loosely over his dark hazel eyes, and were up to his ears. Hermione flushed, she had never been physically attracted to anyone other than Harry before this very moment. She hoped the flush could easily be mistaken for embarrassment for being caught by him. She noticed his Slytherin robes and mentally cursed herself and shook her head; for being affected by her enemy's dark good looks. Come to think of it, she didn't even recognize him. Before she could say much of a word, quicker than a blink he had shoved her up against the wall with his wand drawn to her throat.
"Don't make me ask again, who are you? What are you doing here? And how-how did you manage to get in here?" He spoke coldly, pausing as he examined her robes. "You are wearing Gryffindor robes, so you must be in Gryffindor. However, that cannot be possible as I do not recognize you. So…How did you get inside the castle?" He hissed into her ear, his voice was like dark velvet and dangerous, which caused the hair to rise at the back of her neck, and goose bumps running along her arms. She was incased in fear, as she felt the warm breathe across her skin. Hermione was uncomfortably aware of how close the male was to her and it was doing nothing for her earlier reaction's to seeing him. The discomfort grew as she felt his nose brush up against her ear before his lips moved against it as he spoke. "You don't attend Hogwarts."
What did he mean she didn't go here? Of course she did and she was angry that he didn't even know her. She was even angrier at herself that she didn't know him. "I am Hermione Granger of Gryffindor house, and I do attend Hogwarts." She spoke levelly forcing herself to keep calm. Come to think of it. What is he doing here? If it is off limits to me it's definitely off limits to him. "I should be the one asking you, what are you doing here? If it's off-limits to me, it's off limits to you."
"That is none of your business, and we shall see about that." He forced her from the wall by her upper arm and pulled her none too gently out of the room. She just knew she was going to have bruises later. He didn't say a word as he led her through the familiar hallways. Hermione's confusion was only growing. She was searching her brain and could not for the life of her, figure out who he was. She had to run to keep up with the boy's long confident strides. Well, more like a young man. He just wasn't like most adolescent boys she had ever come across. "What is wrong with me? I need to stop thinking like that about a complete stranger."
They walked in silence for about ten minutes. Whenever she would try to talk or move away, his grip tightened and she fell silent, wincing some. Eventually they stopped in front of the stone gargoyle staircase that lead up into the headmaster's office.
"Night Cap." He spoke to the gargoyle, it sprang to life and the stairs started to form. Again, Hermione found herself almost intoxicated by his voice. There was something, she paused in thought, not quit able to form the words. It wasn't possible…but there was something familiar about his voice, something that calmed her. That's it. It's official, she was completely mental.
Tom pushed her onto the steps in front of him, jerking her out of her reverie as he forced her to walk up the stairs in front of him. Hermione had wished he would let go of her arm. She could feel herself bruising already.
The climb to the top was made in silence as he pushed her along in front of him, finally letting her arm go once they were in the office. An office that didn't look the way she remembered. The office wasn't filled with odd silver objects that normally decorated it; however, the portraits were still the same. The man at the desk however wasn't Albus Dumbledore.
Instead it was an elderly man with long white hair and a matching beard, that wasn't as long as Dumbledore's, but was long all the same. Hermione felt frantic. Where was she? Who was this elderly man sitting in Dumbledore's chair, and who was this young man who escorted her to him?
"Professor Dippet. I'm sorry to disturb you. But I was making my rounds and found her in the abandoned part of the castle. I do not recognize her but she insists she attends Hogwarts."
"Did I just hear him say Professor Dippet?" She thought, her eyes widening in surprise. Retracting her earlier question of where she was to when.
"Thank you,Tom. Hmm I do not recognize you Miss. What is your name?" Professor Dippet spoke as he examined the girl.
"My name is- Hermione Granger." She answered, trying to come up with a quick excuse. Putting two and two together, she assumed Tom was Tom Riddle, the boy who controlled Ginny during Hermione's second year. And would ultimately become Lord Voldemort.
"She is an exchange student," Came a voice from the doorway. "I'm afraid she just arrived this afternoon and had been with me all day. I thought I had given her directions to the Gryffindor dormitories, but I must not have been very clear. She must have gotten lost." Hermione turned to see a 50 years younger Professor Dumbledore standing at the entrance.
"Oh! That's right I had forgotten you told me she would be arriving this evening. Why don't you show her to the dorms, So she won't get lost again? Welcome to Hogwarts. I hope you learn to love this place like a second home. If you have any questions ask me, Professor Dumbledore, or Tom. If we are not available, I'm positive any other student would be happy to help you." Professor Dippet Exclaimed.
"Tom, would you mind escorting Miss Granger to her classes and make sure she can get around the castle?"
"Yes sir." Tom said, giving Hermione a look that said he would rather pitch himself off the astronomy tower.
"I will escort Ms. Granger to her dorm, Sorry for all this confusion Headmaster." Dumbledore spoke before holding out his arm for Hermione, who took it with a shaky hand. He put a comforting hand over the one that rested on his forearm. She followed him in silence, as he led her towards the Gryffindor tower, until they were a safe distance away and out of earshot.
"I don't know why you are here. Let me just say I had a fair warning. You have to figure things out on your own. I will help whenever I can. I had the house elves get some temporary clothes for you. What you're wearing now is not appropriate for this time period." Professor Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling behind his half moon spectacles. "Don't be afraid, I know this isn't making much sense now, but I assure you it will." He paused once they stopped in front of the portrait of the fat Lady .
"Password?" She asked, staring surreptitiously at the young lady next to Professor Dumbledore. "What in heavens is she wearing?"
"Caput Draconis." He replied ignoring the fat lady's question. They watched as the portrait swung open revealing the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Thanks," Hermione mumbled and scrambled into the room. She was confused now more then ever before and growing more so by the second. It seemed like Dumbledore wouldn't be of much help. Apparently a younger Dumbledore still spoke in riddles.
She nervously looked around the common room, taking a deep breath as she took in the atmosphere. She felt just like she had in her first year, awkward and unsure of herself. She didn't feel at home, even though the place was familiar.
"You must be the new girl," A sweet voice said from her right. " Hi, I'm Amanda Ridgeway. I'm a prefect and if you need any help, just ask. Professor Dumbledore is our Head of House. He told us we were getting a new student today." She grinned as she held out her hand.
"Hermione Granger." She said, as she shook her hand and noticed Professor Dumbledore was right about her attire. All of the girls skirts went past their knees. Some of the girls wore muggle dresses that Hermione recognized from the 40's, while pure-blooded witches wore an older style since, they didn't keep up with muggle fashion. These girls wore black skirts or dresses that went all the way down to their ankles, with a corset over it. Hermione's mid-thigh skirt was practically indecent compared to the latter's.
"Thanks, I'll remember that. Although Headmaster Dippet assigned Tom Riddle to help me." She said, pretending she didn't know who he was. "Who is he exactly?"
"Lucky you," Several girls exclaimed.
Hermione didn't feel she so was lucky.
"Tom Riddle is an extremely strong, silent, sexy, intelligent, and powerful Slytherin wizard!" A girl squealed from the other side of the room. She had wavy brown hair and brown eyes with a dust of freckles over her nose. "He doesn't really talk much. However, he has all the slytherins running scared. So in our opinion, we think he is someone you don't want to mess with, which just adds to the darling's appeal." She paused and took a breath before asking, "Where are you from?"
Hermione thought quickly, and soon came up with a plausible excuse. "I'm from England, but I attended Beauxbatons in France, up until last year. I wanted to be closer to home, so I decided to transfer to Hogwarts."
Amanda smiled. "Welcome home! You look tired, perhaps you should get some rest. Our dorms are to the right and three floors up." She said, pointing towards the stairs.
"Thanks." Hermione muttered before she went up to the girl's dorm room. The girls started gossiping about Riddle the second she left their sight. Her trunk was already waiting for her. She still didn't think she was lucky. Especially as she is now stuck with her worst enemy, the future Dark Lord. She huffed as she flopped onto the bed. Her highly logical brain began flooding with questions as to why she was back in the 40's, who sent her here, and how was she going to return? Rolling onto her stomach, she pushed those thoughts into the back of her mind. They weren't her most troubling questions, no, her attraction to one Tom Marvolo Riddle was. She groaned, as visions of blue fire danced across her mind. Deep penetrating blue eyes that stared deep into her soul, yearning to learn all of her secrets.
Hermione groaned again. "Why am I having such strong reaction to him. And why does he feel so familiar?"
"He's poison." She muttered aloud, into her pillow, before getting up to remove her clothes. She didn't feel like changing. She wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep until she woke up in the right time, a time that didn't include Him. But deciding that it might look odd to sleep fully clothed-at least in this time period, she rummaged through her trunk, removed her nightgown and prepared for bed.
Sitting on the side of the bed, she put her head in her right hand. "He hasn't even done anything to me yet, and he's already getting under my skin and beginning to manipulate me." She thought, before pulling the covers back, lying down on the bed; stretching out as she soon fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep. She would need all the rest she could get.
