Author: Svelte Rose
Rating: K+
Title: Geminus
Characters: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Ginny Weasley
Warnings: None
Date: January 3rd, 2010
Prompt: 02. Marionette
Summary: The Restricted Section had a way of making her lose track of time. Hermione finds herself with a late-night visitor.
Notes: For List Zeta at 30kisses with the theme of "memory." It's an unofficial undertaking of the set just for my own amusement. Basically, I realized that as much as I loved TR/HG, I hadn't written nearly enough of them. Hope you enjoyed this! As always, thanks to my lovely beta, Nicole. :]
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She wasn't enjoying this one bit.
Hermione held the urge to pull back and chuck her mirror for all its worth but her hands were more occupied with rubbing her strained eyes in the dark.
That's what you get for sneaking into the Restricted Section after hours.
It also didn't help that the castle currently had an ancient beast - a poisonous, venomous – yes there was a difference – and deadly beast, running amok in Hogwart's plumbing system.
She jumped as a book next to her flitted its pages, floating from its resting position onto another shelf. It gave a little huff as though to say "be quiet," much like its caretaker, Madame Pinch. Hermione stuck her tongue out at it and continued down the aisle.
Coming to a corner, she took out her mirror and carefully angled it every which way. When she was sure the pathway was clear, she slowly moved from her spot only to have someone step right in front of her.
A yelp of surprise blew from her mouth and she quickly clamped down on the shout that threatened to follow, wand hastily drawn as she furiously thought of all the spells she'd learned thus far.
Which aside from a couple of jinxes and your basic Petrificus, it really wasn't much. She was well-read but she was pragmatic enough to understand that the books she got her hands on would hardly delve out the secrets on how to kill a basilisk.
Her nerves were surprisingly steady and she silently congratulated herself that her wand was held so steadily at the shadowy and vaguely, omniscient figure in front of her.
"Ginny?" Her exclamation was louder than she wanted and she couldn't help the feelings of aggravation that came. She wasn't too familiar with Ron's younger sister but she knew this was hardly the hour the first-year should be running around.
You're not supposed to be out at this hour either, her conscience succinctly reminded her.
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Hermione bit out as she dropped her arm but not her grip on her wand. Her senses were still going haywire.
The petite girl stepped into the light and cocked her head at Hermione, studying the witch with her intense blue eyes.
Hermione bristled uncomfortably then sighed, as though her reasonability got the better of her. "Honestly, Ron would kill you if he knew."
Ginny looked out the window and then back at the curly-haired witch, cocking her head to the side once more.
There was a deathly silence about the young girl and somehow, her adolescence seemed absent. This was no first-year standing before her; Hermione knew it sounded mad but her intuition practically screamed it.
"Shouldn't you?" The red-haired witch finally said, her voice raspy with a mix of two tones, both soprano and baritone.
Hermione ignored the oddity, excusing it as a sound of the library's acoustics. "I should," she admitted. "But I know why I'm out here. The question is why are you? You know the dangers of a basilisk." She couldn't help that she tended to revert to her bossy persona when she was nervous.
The girl's pale lips curved in a half-smile. "Are you sure you want to know?"
A cold realization settled in. This was most definitely not Ginny. She didn't know how she knew that or why it was so but she knew without a doubt it was truth.
Taking a precautionary step back and her wand gripped hard in her hand, Hermione narrowed her eyes, suspicion coloring her every expression. "Something's wrong here." She would have liked to accuse the doppelganger of something more direct but her conscious mind was still fighting against the possibility – even if it was certainty that it was not Ginny Weasley standing before her.
"Yes." The soft words were still two-toned and this time, Hermione knew it was neither her ears nor the library walls.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Her questions were hurried, scared. She wasn't so proud that she couldn't admit it.
The blue eyes glinted green – Hermione turned her head to the side, face scrunched up in confusion – then bright red.
There was a raspy, slithery noise behind her and the curly-haired witch stiffened. The hiss solidified any misgivings she had and she let her wand hand drop as her shoulders pulled back, chin pointing up, closing her eyes to shut out the young Gryffindor's smug countenance. Her heart was pounding hard and she knew without a doubt, what had snuck up behind her unawares. Reaching into her robe pocket, her fingers curled around the small, compact mirror.
"Good night, Miss…Granger? It's been a pleasure." The last words were a hiss as Hermione held up the mirror just a few inches from her face.
The sound of something hard and heavy hitting the ground echoed through the large room. The small mirror shot across the floor, stopping just immediately at the sole of a polished, Mary Jane.
A smirk crossed her dainty freckled features as she crushed the small object beneath her heel, tutting at the petrified witch.
"Careful." The crunch of the glass was the only thing audible. "That's seven years of bad luck, don't you know?"