Disclaimer: I'm not rich, I don't own Tom Riddle, and I would never had killed Voldemort at the end of Harry Potter's book if I did. So... J.K.R, is all yours.
Hello everybody! This story is going to be a Tom/Hermione, primarily focused on the figure of Hermione. It starts in her first year, though it will advance quickly in time. Even when it's an alternative universe, the story begins in the same point of the original so I'll try to remain faithful to the personality of every character.
That means that Tom will be a cruel, vicious, manipulative bastard with everybody, including Hermione. Of course, as the story progresses, things and character will change. But it will require time. And they won't change beyond the credible.
It doesn't mean a unhappy ending. Actually I'm pretty sure the finale will be quite happy for the both main characters. But the world won't suddenly become in a bed of pink roses. While every character will develop some redemptive qualities, there'll be still huge shadow of gray -some darker than others- in every one of them.
It won't be a typical high school love story, as much as I enjoy reading them I'm not really good at writing them. It'll be dark. It'll include adult sex scenes too, in futures chapters. I'll move the story to M ranking before it happen.
The whole story was born quite simple. I was reading Harry Potter and PS again, and I thought about all the thousand things that could have gone different just if... Sometimes the most innocent and simplest of the decision can turn into unpredictable results, even beyond our imagination. So I thought about hundreds of "what if..." And I chose to create a story about this particular one, because I don't ever remember to have read a fanfic that did it before.
I really hope that you come to enjoy it, though this is only a prologue. I also have to advise you that English is not my first language, I'm from Spain, and even when I've been studying in London for a year there're still many things that I have to improve.
So... there it is.
Prologue.
It was all due to a little change. The greatest of the destinies altered, forever, for the most insignificant of the decisions. She was a little girl at that time, not properly a teenager yet. She wasn't conscious of the consequences, the second when everything changed. As like as not, she never would be.
Those were the words that started it, from the lips of a redheaded boy with a good heart and the sensitivity of a blunt axe.
"It's no wonder no one can stand her."
"She's a nightmare, honestly."
The kid in question didn't mean to harm, not truly. He was just not good measuring his words, nor pausing to consider about other's feelings. But he had hurt her anyway, deeper than she thought possible.
She decided to flee, get away before others got the chance to notice the tears sliding down her face.
She walked fast through the first floor's main corridor and turned a corner, trying to reach the girls bathroom. It was near and it was a quiet enough place where she would be able to cry freely, without damaging her pride beyond the irreparable.
And there it was, the glorious destiny written for her by the stars more than a millennium ago, ready to be taken and become hers. She just needed to cross that door and there wouldn't be turning back.
She was just ten steps away…
Then she heard the voices. Noisy and acute voices, the same ones that she had learned to associate with her roommates, approaching quickly to her. The toilets weren't a safe option anymore!
She was about breaking in tears. She was sick of that stupid castle. She missed home; the privacy of a bedroom that were exclusively hers. She just wanted a place where to cry alone, for Merlin's sake. Why was it so difficult to understand?
Truth be told, she didn't mean to say it aloud. She wasn't conscious that she had. But she heard the answer anyway.
"Chist—" an unknown voice tried to grab her attention. "You! Little girl."
Hermione looked around, confuse, but she was alone in the corridor. There was no one else. Parvati's and Lavander's steps were getting louder.
"Look at me! In the picture! "
Her eyes finally met the voice's owner. He was a medieval armour knight drawn inside an enormous golden frame. She gasped with surprise. The weird thing wasn't that a portrait were speaking to her; Hermione had become accustomed to that kind of thing after two months living in Hogwarts. The weird thing was that the frame was now opening over itself, revealing a tiny passage hidden behind it.
"Weren't you wishing for a way to be alone? Then, get in. Quickly!"
She hesitated for a second. Wouldn't it be dangerous…? Or worse! Against the rules? Her glance went back to the bathroom's door. There was still a chance and she knew she should hide there. That was her original plan, the best option. She was an intelligent girl and always took the wisest decisions.
Nevertheless, Lavender's joyful laugher echoed again, painfully against her ears, and Hermione decided that she couldn't do it. She wasn't ready to face her roommates. What is more, she didn't want to. She turned her back to the toilets and walked into the passage, whispering a soft "thank you" to the portrait, seconds before the two cheerful girls appeared around the corner.
Parvati and Lavender wouldn't notice anything out of order, and when Hermione started up the narrow stairs and the portrait's frame closed behind her, the course of her fate had been hopelessly altered, and for her, the whole world's destiny was trembling.
Hermione didn't know exactly where she was. She had gone up stairs for what seemed like hours, and she was tired. All right, perhaps hours was exaggerate it a little too much, but the emotional exhausted didn't help her physically. She was being weak and even worse, she was being a naïve.
She was ashamed of her reaction to Ronald's hurtful words, but she didn't seem able to stop the pain they had awoken in her. They weren't even that bad, and of course it wasn't the first time Hermione heard something similar related to her. Those insults were everyday's thing back to her old school.
It just… Well. Maybe she thought things could be different here. After all, she never felt like she fit into her old school. The most teachers adored her, she knew, but then there were those who felt threatened for her intelligence. And obviously her classmates didn't appreciate that a two years younger girl were achieving higher scores than the most of them. So they hate her.
Jealousy was a natural human reaction; her parents had tried to assure her when she was too young even to understand the meaning of that word. She understood it now; though understanding didn't help to alleviate the wound.
She had hoped that maybe things would be different here. Maybe Hogwarts was the right place for her, a new beginning. Maybe she would be allowed to be herself here, to prove her worth without being rejected by it. Maybe she would be accepted.
She had been a fool! Too naïve for her own good.
It was just a childish dream, as hopeless as useless. She didn't need to be accepted, Hermione reminded herself. She was better than them. She was brilliant. She didn't give up the chance to jump up two courses at her old school, damaging her future to earn others approval, and neither would she now.
That idiot Ronald Weasley and his oh!- loyal friend Harry Potter would never find out until what extend his words had hurt her. She would not be that weak again.
So no one can stand her?
She was friendless?
Good. She didn't need them. She knew how to survive without friends. She had done a pretty good job for the last twelve years after all. Besides, she wasn't completely alone. She's got herself, her brains, and her books. They were support enough.
Hermione clenched her teeth. Of course she wasn't going to cry. She didn't have any reason to. She was glad, determinate.
Tomorrow she would prove them all. Tomorrow she would embrace a new path. So they couldn't stand her? Good. She wouldn't try to be their friend anymore. She didn't need them. She didn't need any friends at all. She was going to become the most powerful with of their generation, not, of the last fifty years. None of them would see it coming.
Tomorrow, she swore as she walked for the corridors with determination.
Tomorrow…
Now, she only needed a place to be alone for a short amount of time; a quiet place where she could shed tears without witness and bury her childish and illogical hopes for companionship and acceptance; a place to mourn in peace for the last time.
Hermione blinked with confusion. She would swear that that door wasn't there before. She turned her eyes back to the peculiar tapestry where an old gentleman was vainly trying to teach ballet to three trolls five times his size. It was a funny portrait and she had seen it before, every time she went to the Astronomy Tower. However, she was unable to recall seeing that particular door.
The Astronomy Tower… Thus she was in the seventh floor.
It was relaxing being so near to the Gryffindor Tower, even if she didn't wish to come back there just yet. It made her to feel safer. She came near to the mysterious entrance. It wasn't against the rules to open a door, and Hogwarts was a magic castle. And Hermione was curious. Maybe the room behind would turn to be exactly the sort of placer she was looking for.
The terrible events of the Halloween's night were starting to fade in everyone's memory, even when some of the impact still persisted. Hermione was thankful for this. She hadn't been present in the Great Hall when Quierrell had alerted everybody of the presence of a troll. Indeed, she hadn't found out about it until after the menace was dealt with by the professors.
When she finally came back to the Tower, around midnight, the Common Room was still full of excited people talking each other about the attack of a troll and celebrating. Ron and Harry, away from the other students in a private corner of the room, were discussing something rapturously. Not that Hermione was searching for them, by no means. They just happen to be there.
Lavender and Parvati were partying too, free of any worries. Hermione had to surrender to the sad truth, though this one didn't surprise her. She had been gone for longer than eight hours and no one had missed her. No one had noticed, and none had worry about her; not even the teachers. She could only count with herself. It was a precious lesson that she wouldn't forget.
Those events had happened almost two months ago. Hermione was alright with it now; glad, even. She just moved on. And so, tomorrow became today.
Well, what do you think? Is it worth of giving it a try? Any suggestion, opinion and comment will be welcome, whether relating to the story itself or the language aspect. I'm very anxious to know your opinion!
My best wishes,
Rebecca.