Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter

"Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"

Tennyson

Hermione Granger woke to the sound of shuffling feet. She groaned inwardly as she realized the time; it was seven in the morning. Classes started at eight and if she wanted any breakfast, she would need to get a move on it. She was tired, more tired than she had been in ages. The night beforehand had been difficult. Life in the 1940's was not easy, especially when you are befriending a young man who would become the darkest wizard of all time, the man who would eventually destroy everything you hold dear.

Five years ago, the war had ended and Voldemort had won. After witnessing firsthand the death of her fiancé, her lover Ron and the murder of Harry Potter along with the majority of those who were fighting for the Light in Hogwarts; Hermione found herself stealing a de-aging potion and Dumbledore's time turner. Right in the middle of Hogwarts, surrounded by the dead, Hermione Granger became eleven years old again travelled back to the year of 1937 were Tom Riddle would just be starting school for the first time.

At first her main goal was to only observe from a safe distance, that maybe the information she could extract could help Harry in the future and maybe spare her future's dark tragedy. But this proved difficult when she was sorted into Slytherin right alongside with Tom. The boy, to her surprise, was a lot like herself; studious, smart, and thrived in education. He was an outcast for a while, as he was the book worm.

Tom took an immediate liking to Hermione, and despite her better judgment; she befriended him. Their relationship was strong, unlike any relationship she had ever encountered even to those of Harry and Ron. Loyalty meant something to Tom, and even though he didn't give out his love and loyalty easily; when he did it was strong and deep. After a while, she trusted Tom with her life and he trusted her as well.

Years had flown by and she realized her feelings for him went beyond friendship, and she had hoped that he would eventually feel the same way. Of course this proved impossible when he found out about her muggle heritage. Suddenly it was like Hermione had become the plague and was no longer fit to be seen with him, much less friends with him. She disgusted him and it broke her heart. But Hermione wouldn't give up; she decided it was for the better. After all, she couldn't stay in that time and the less attached she was to someone the easier it would be to leave.

But even though Tom Riddle hated her, there was some part of him that couldn't let her go either. Tom never forgot how she befriended him when no one else would and how she was completely loyal to him. And every once in a while, he would find himself in her bed. She knew that somewhere deep inside him, that he loved her as well and was just torn. They didn't really speak when he lay with her; there wasn't anything that needed to be said.

The reason for her tiredness resulted in an event that taken last night. Tom had been acting very sketchy and had given her a book. He didn't explain his reasoning's only that it was of dire importance she kept it hidden and safe. But there was something strange about the book he gave, something not right and she had sworn she had seen it before.

"Mione please, you're the only one I trust." Tom pleaded.

"Really, you sure have a funny way of showing it." Hermione responded bitterly.

Tom's face fell and a sadness came over his perfectly handsome features. She was referring to the day when he proclaimed that she was only a worthless mudblood, not even worthy of the dirt under his shoes. He had hit her, mocked her, and humiliated her since that day. Of course, it didn't stop with him; his friends continued the abuse.

"I know, but" he faltered. "This is really important. And it some sick way, I still love you; even if I hate myself."

She had taken the book with a sigh and immediately went to bed. But sleep didn't come so easily for Hermione that night. She knew something was off with the book and with Tom.

When she finally got out of bed, she headed to the bathrooms to shower and get ready before breakfast. The hot water soothed her somewhat as it hit her back. The water made her remember a particular night when she was with Ron and Harry. It was strange, she hadn't really thought about the two of them for a long time. It wasn't that she no longer cared for them; it was just that so much time had passed and she had gone through maturity twice now. Her old life was nothing more than a haunting dream, a fleeting memory.

Memory.

Yes, Potter. The process is nearly complete. In a few minutes, Ginny Weasley will be dead, and I will cease to be a memory. Lord Voldemort will return... very... much... alive.

Hermione felt her blood go cold as breathing suddenly became very difficult. She began to hyperventilate in the shower as the words Harry said to her after coming out of the chamber alive began to taunt her.

I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school so I decided to leave behind a Diary, preserving my 16-year old self in its pages so that ond day, I would be able to lead another to finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work!

Her legs nearly gave out and she collapsed against the cold, stone wall. Hot water pouring down her body mingled with her tears as she realized what had taken place. How stupid she felt for believing that he could change! He would always be a monster, no matter of the sacrifices she had taken for him. Myrtle was dead, and he was the reason.

Voldemort is my past, present, and future

He would always be a monster.

She felt her legs slacken and she fell to the floor as sobs raked through her body. All the years, the hard work, the pain; it was all for nothing. He was Voldemort and would always be that. She rested her head against the wall. She mourned for the loss of her best friend, the loss of her true lover. She had always known one day she would lose him, she had just hoped it would be due to something worth all the pain, worth all the misery. But no, she lost him to the lust for power he could never have enough of.

After quite some time, she collected herself and stepped out the shower. After using a spell to dry her hair, she threw it back into a messy bun and went and got the book. As she held it in her hand, she felt dirty; as if she was the one who killed the innocent girl.

As she stepped into the common room, she was greeted with none other than Tom Riddle and his so called 'friends.' Now she knew better, they were never his friends, only his followers and he was their fearless and cruel leader. She clutched the diary in her hand and saw his infamous smirk that he was sporting. Apparently he thought she was amusing today, but today would be different.

"Well if it isn't the famous Slytherin mudblood," Abraxes called out mockingly.

Others taunted quickly after, but Hermione paid no attention to them. She could care less what they thought about her; right now she was only concerned that she had wasted five years of her life on a hopeless case. The term mudblood held nothing on her now. She knew what she was; Bellatrix Lestrange made sure of that when she branded it on her abdomen years ago.

Riddle finally held up his hand to quiet his friends, completely unfazed by their cruelty directed towards the girl in front of him, the girl he secretly loved.

"What happened to you Mendler," Tom spoke with a laugh. "You look positively dreadful."

She did not laugh, or give in. She only eyed him with pity and he took notice of it almost immediately. She wasn't even sure what to say, what was left to say anyways? So she simply held out the diary to him. His eyes flashed a dangerous crimson before settling back to icy blue. He apparently didn't like her parading his book around so carelessly.

"I should have known better," she faltered out. "And to think I loved you," she finished with a tears springing to her eyes.

He visibly swallowed some, attempting to hide his shock at her confession of love. He had imagined this would be much more beautiful, they she would be in his arms; not like this, not with such sadness in her eyes.

"Well, as if I could ever love someone as lowly as you," he claimed coldly.

The others in the room began to laugh; unaware he was not only breaking his own heart; but hers as well. His followers cheered at his cruelty, relishing in the moment of him breaking her down.

Hermione knew he was baiting her, but she didn't take it. She was much too broken for that. After years of running from Voldemort, and trying to survive after years of trying to save him from himself; she was just tired. Tired of fighting a war already lost, tired of pretending to be something that she wasn't. Life with Harry and Ron had been wonderfully tragic, but in the end wasn't beautifully tragic. Everyone had died, and there wasn't anything beautiful about that.

Was it not enough to have lost everything she held dear once, to now losing it again?

"I know, but I had always hoped anyways." She claimed softly. "You were the only family I had left, and I knew I would eventually lose you because of what I was." She continued dejectedly.

"I knew what I was; I have to live with it every day." She said as she slowly pulled her shirt.

A breath caught in his throat when he saw the words etched and carved into her very skin.

Mudblood

"But do you know who you are? I promise you Tom you will have to live with yourself and the thing you've become every day of your wretched life." She said as a new set of fresh tears began to stream down her face.

Tom couldn't tear his eyes away from the brand on her abdomen. He didn't understand her words, how could greatness become such a crime against nature? He had potential, what was she so afraid of? A sudden emotion came over him, an anger to the person who did this to her. It was one thing to mock, and ridicule but to carve the obscenity onto one's own skin? Now that was an unforgivable crime. He would kill the man who did this to her, despite everything; she was his. She belonged to him and no one was allowed to touch her like that.

"I should have known the moment I met you that we could never be," she spoke with a sob. "So here," she said as she let her shirt fall back down and thrusted the book to his chest. "Take it; I don't want any part of it anymore. Of you, anymore," she continued as her body shook.

"You are not the man I loved, only the ghost of what once was." She said as she began to back away from him.

"Mione wait!" He cried as his desperation leaking into his voice.

She slowly shook her head.

"No, I'm done waiting. Waiting for you is killing me. So I'm going to leave now." She spoke with a sob still backing from him.

"And I wonder, did ever love me at all?" She spoke brokenly.

He watched her turn her back on him and run for the stairs. His brain screamed at him to follow her, but his feet were unable to move.

"Don't!" he pleaded at the emptiness that once held his love.

If only he had known that would be the last time he would see her for another fifty years, maybe he would have ran after her. Maybe it would have changed him, maybe it would have…. But maybe is such a fickle word and sometimes maybe's are enough, but not for him. Maybe never happened and in effort to forget that night, and to push away all the hurt from the life he could have had; he turned into the very thing he was always destined to be come.

Hermione Granger landed back at Hogwarts the very same date she had left. And once again she found herself in the midst of dead bodies. The bodies that had belonged to some of her closest friends, friends she would never see again. Friends that their laughter would never float into her ears, friends that would never write, or speak or touch her again. She was surrounded by the memories she had closed off from her mind oh so long ago.

Finally unable to take it anymore, she collapsed to the ground when she realized just whose body was lying at her feet.

Their lay a boy, messy brown hair and a pair of broken glasses with the light gone from his eyes. His ashen face spoke volumes of the horror that had taken place, and she writhed on the floor in pure agony. Harry Potter would never return, he would never make the pain go away. His body was only a remnant of the life she had once had, a life that was now over, broken and as dead as the lifeless eyes that were staring back at her. She was alone in the world and once again was forced to face the future she so deeply feared.

How could she possibly move on?

She screamed in anguish over and over again. She had done nothing, she had changed nothing; it was still the very same as the day she left it five years prior. Maybe Lestrange was right, maybe she was worthless. Maybe she was worthy of the name branded on her skin. It seemed to fit. She clutched her best friend in her arms as sobs raked through her body.

"Well well well, who do we have here?" An icy voice spoke.

Hermione stiffened at the sound. She didn't have to turn to know who it was, there was only one man that snake like voice could belong to. The sudden memories she had shared with the man seemed to create a new onslaught of tears and pain. That very voice had belonged once to a man she had loved, a man she had cared more for than anyone in her life.

"That's Potter's whore, Granger." Lucius Malfoy hissed.

A faint chuckle was heard.

"Hmm, well this should be fun." He said in mock cheerfulness. "Get up; you and I are going to duel." He said suddenly his voice becoming cold.

Hermione cried as she clutched the wand in her hand. She didn't want to fight him, she just wanted to die. Her life was over, he had taken everything from her; the least he could do was put her out of her misery. She wanted nothing more than to just be rid of this pain. Surely he would oblige an old friend; surely he would have some pity on her.

She slowly stood up, her back still facing him. Biting her lip in anticipation, she slowly turned to face him. His crimson eyes went wide with shock at the sight in front of him. There was Hermione Mendler, his only friend; his only love standing before him at the tender age of sixteen. The brokenness in her eyes nearly caused him to collapse onto the floor.

"I knew the moment you gave me that diary I had failed." She began with a sob. "That I failed my family, my friends, my future, even myself." She continued.

"But that wasn't the thing that cut me the most," she whispered. "It was that I failed from saving you from yourself. That I failed you." She spoke without emotion.

"And I still wonder, did you ever love me at all?" she finally asked tragically.

Silence hung in the air and Tom had no idea what to even say. She had known about him the whole time she was with him, and knew that the diary was a horcux. She knew he had committed murder and who he would become. There she stood before him the only person in the whole world he had ever loved, and he had broken her.

It was he that took everything she held precious and slaughtered.

It was he that took her innocence from her childhood.

It was he that made her realize that magic could be dark, and a fairytale could turn into a nightmare overnight.

It was he that killed everyone she had ever loved.

And it was he that ruined her.

He ruined everything he touched.

"I knew what I was; I have to live with it every day."

The very words she spoke to him sent shivers down his spine as he remembered the name branded onto her very own skin. Yes, she knew who she was and decided to live above it; to become better than what her peers believed her to be.

"But do you know who you are? I promise you Tom you will have to live with yourself and the thing you've become every day of your wretched life."

Tom took in the sight before him, all the bodies of the dead; the destroying of his home. All the children lying there look up to the skies with glassy eyes and ashen faces. They were so young, and he had killed them, destroyed them. He hadn't understood what she had meant that day, what she was so afraid of.

Now the sight before him told him.

It was all those lifeless bodies that would forever brand him.

It was all those lifeless bodies that would scar upon himself with what he was, a monster.

And yes, he would live with it every day of the rest of his pathetic, immortal life.

"Goodbye, Tom" she whispered.

He watched in horror as she brought the tip of her wand to her throat. Time seemed to hold still for him. He screamed as the unforgivable curse passed her lips and her body slowly collapse to the stone floor.

Hermione Granger lay dead beside the body of Harry Potter. Tom Riddle fell to the floor and screamed in hate, screamed in agony, and screamed as he realized she was really gone. Hermione was gone and was all his fault. He killed her.

He killed her.

He killed her.

All the sorrow, pain and guilt seemed to erupt in his chest. He clutched his head as a white hot pain seared across his body. It burnt him to the core. He writhed pain as the fire inwardly consumed him. Memories of his father flooded into his brain, memories of Myrtle, memories of Lily and James Potter, memories of Harry Potter, memories of every person he single handedly killed burned their way to the forefront of his mind.

Then memories of his beloved Hermione scorched their way to, causing a whole new level pain to erupt from his inmost being. His screams echoed in the halls of the only place he could ever call home, and yet the one place he sought and finally succeeded in destroying. Death Eaters were crying out, unable to know how to handle their leader.

Finally Tom realized just what this emotion and burning in his body meant.

He closed his eyes and soon darkness clouded his vision and he felt nothing.

A sound woke Tom up from his sleeping state and he realized he was in the Great Hall. Sudden memories of what had previously happened flooded into his mind and he cried out in utter anguish. But soon a hand was on his shoulder, and a mouth was pressing hot kisses to his neck. He looked at his hands and realized they were normal, human like; just like his old ones.

He quickly turned around and to his relief saw it was Hermione that was holding onto him. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying. But there was happiness there, a joy that couldn't be explained.

"We're back; we're back in your time." She said softly with a smile.

They were back to their sixth year of Hogwarts. He pondered on what could have happened that would rewind the time. She had killed herself. The wretched memory would never leave him now. Holding her dead corpse would be branded into his mind.

"Did you ever love me at all?"

Suddenly he embraced the girl in front of him refusing to let her go. He had done it once, and he swore he would never do it again. Now it was his turn to live above himself, to better than the deeds branded to his name. It was time to grasp a hold of something life saw fit, a second chance. A second chance to make things right, a second chance to save all those innocent people from the horror he had become.

"Yes," he answered as he cupped her face. "I loved you more than anything in the world, more than myself and I swear to you; you will never have to question it again." He proclaimed as he kissed her lips.

Then it happened. He suddenly understood why everything changed.

Tom Riddle felt remorse.

Fin

Please review, and all those reading Lucifer- I just updated.