Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: A very special thanks to my beta, Kate.

Warning: This story requires patience to read, it takes a while to build up to the Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger pairing.

Chapter One

Her Life As Sunshine

She was sunlight.

Hermione was musing to herself, pondering that very line over and over again. Was she?

She was sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express with Harry and Ron, who were busy playing a destructive game of wizard chess. The mood was morose after Harry's deed a few weeks ago; aiming to save Albus Dumbledore's life, he had killed Severus Snape. Killing, never easy, had changed Harry. His conscience was eating at him, and this in turn made him brood on the subject Voldemort; if killing was so easy, but had so hard consequences, could he do it again? Hermione knew there would be many a night when Harry would lie awake wondering if he could do this, and if that night could have been different, if Severus Snape could have been saved.

She was currently staring out of the window, and the weather seemed to reflect the mood of the world around her, sad and gloomy. Hermione, though, was determined not to let the tragedy of killing affect her.

Such was the life of Gryffindor princess and first class virgin Hermione Granger; none could come close to touching such light without getting burned. No tragedy could snuff out her light. Hermione was not only the epitome of innocence, but also the zenith of intelligence for her age. None could play mind games with her and expect coming out the winner.

This was how the world viewed Hermione Granger. For the most part they were probably correct.

Bet everyone knows I've never even been snogged before, Hermione thought, a little hostile at the thought of her untainted chastity.

She was indeed a virgin, everyone knew that. And she had her suspicions, as expressed in past thoughts, that some were aware of her 'never-really-been-kissed' stature. Hermione had only ever had one boyfriend, Victor Krum. They had bonded over knowledge and mutual feelings about fame. However, she had never really harboured any romantic feelings for him, and had yet to discover why he, two years her senior, had been enchanted with her. She was nothing spectacular to look at, but that hadn't changed the truth that he had been infatuated with her.

She had been flattered, immensely so, but nervous because she knew she did not return his affection. So when Harry had come out of that lake, right after Victor had confessed his true feelings for her, looking like a survivor of some terribly accident, she had paid him a bit more attention than she normally would have.

Krum though, bless him, seemed to understand. At the end of that terrible year, after ushering her away from her knights in not-so-shining robes, he had told her that he would be content to remain her friend even if she didn't share his true feelings.

Feeling slightly guilty at her lack of attraction, but delighted at the prospect of remaining his friend, she had let him kiss her hand, blushing deeply.

Hermione sighed; she was definitely not the promiscuous type, and had no intents on having sex with someone just to get over her pureness. When the right guy came along, and she had her doubts that it would ever happen, she would give her virginity to him. She wanted someone who would be her equal in everything, someone whose passion for her would only be rivalled by love of knowledge and riddles. Someone who desired her for being her, and whom she desired in return.

"What's that Hermione?" the slightly confused voice of Harry Potter asked.

She turned from the cloudy and desolate sky she had been staring at moments before, and focused her attention on the Boy Who Lived.

His voice had betrayed nothing of this true melancholic disposition. His gorgeous eyes, once full of life, seemed jaded and vengeful, and there was nothing similar to him from the happy boy she had met the first day of school. Life and death had done this to him, so much death and destruction, but there was no hopelessness there. Instead, Hermione felt a moment of pity for those who would face the wrath of Harry Potter.

"Nothing. Just thinking," Hermione replied, not losing eye contact.

"When aren't you, Hermione?" Ron jested, breaking the tension in the room.

Hermione sent him a small smile, and Harry's eyes light up for a fraction on a second. But then it was gone, and things were more awkward than before.

Shifting slightly in his seat, Ron asked, "Are you two coming over this summer then?"

Harry turned his intense gaze to Ron, and nodded slightly.

"After I come of age, I'll be there. You will too, won't you Hermione?"

Hermione shuffled slightly, taking an uneasy seat next to Ron.

"Maybe. My parents really want to me to spend the summer with them, as it's my last time to spend time with them before I leave."

She refused to make eye contact with Harry through this sentence, knowing what was on his mind. Then Ron, being tactless as ever, voiced the silent question.

"You have to be there Hermione! We'll need all the help we can get!" Hermione winced at the loudness of his voice, before replying,

"I'll try to, really, I want to help the Order as much as possible, but my family is important to me as well. Give it a rest, all right?"

The statement was greeted with silence, leaving Hermione to her thoughts.

Do they think I don't want to help them? How could they think that, after all we have been through

Another stray, unwanted thought came to the surface of Hermione's mind, but it planted it's seed of doubt before Hermione banished it;

You don't want the horcruxes to be destroyed. Not yet, anyway. You want to see how they work, and what Lord Voldemort had to do to create them.

Hermione was not stupid enough to be in denial about the inevitable, but she could damn well repress it.

Of course I'll help them find and destroy the Horcruxes. They need my help, and what good would be gained from further researching how they work, as long as we can destroy them?

Satisfied with that conclusion, Hermione closed her eyes, and let slept away the last hours till they reached King's Cross Station.

But before she fell asleep, her brain considered one last thing.

Do you care if it's good or not?

And with that thought, sleep claimed her.