A/N This is my second oneshot, so I hope you like it! HG/TR
Hermione was falling, rising, floating, sinking and being twisted beyond imagination all at once. The Time Turner was still clenched tightly in her hand as she traveled through time and space. All at once, her feet hit solid ground. She was still in Hogwarts' courtyard, but it was…different…somehow, and it was empty except for a boy a bit older than herself who was sitting on a bench.
When she had appeared, he had leaped to his feet, eyes wide and wand drawn in an instant. She raised her hands quickly to show she was unarmed and said, "Its ok, I'm not here to hurt you, or anyone else for that matter." After a moment, she asked, "Can you tell me what year it is?"
The boy stared at her in surprise at the unexpected question. When he finally replied, his voice was deep, measured and wary. "It's 1941. Why?" his voice hardened as he glared at her. "Who are you and how did you get inside the boundaries?"
Hermione didn't hear his question; instead a new question was on her mind: How on earth did she get to the year 1941? She must have gone back at least fifty years, and with a simple Time Turner at that! As she regained herself, she took in the boys' appearance. He was rather tall with jet black hair and stunning emerald eyes. When he caught her staring at him, he snapped again, "Who are you? And how did you get here?"
She finally answered. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm not sure how I got here, though. You see, I was using a Time Turner, and—" she broke off as the boy gaped at the charm in her hands. "You know what this is?" she asked incredulously. As she watched, he reached into his shirt and pulled out an identical Time Turner. It was now her turn to gape. "What? How…? Who are you?" she finished lamely.
The boy again started at her question "Tom…" he said slowly. "Tom Riddle."
Hermione looked at him closely. "I've heard that before…" she murmured. She realized he had relaxed and lowered his wand. "You seem to know about them. Can you tell me why I came here when I only wanted to go back a couple hours?"
The boy, Tom, looked thoughtful. "I could, but I need to know what year you were in previously."
"1998."
"Are you serious?" Tom backpedaled. As he sat heavily on the bench, he sighed and said, slightly amused, "I'm not sure why then. The furthest I've gone was eight days. Never fifty seven years!" Suddenly awkward, he glanced at her, still standing in the same place. "Do you want to, uh, sit down?" he gestured weakly at the seat next to him. She sat down tensely and they were silent a moment. "So, tell me a bit about yourself," Tom broke the silence. "What House are you in?"
"I'm a sixth year in Gryffindor. And you?"
"Seventh year Slytherin," Tom turned to gaze at Hermione and cocked his head. "You know, you really are…beautiful…for a Gryffindor."
Hermione blushed a faint red and grinned. "Thanks, I guess. You're handsome…for a Slytherin."
Unexpectedly, he let out a clear, rich laugh that reverberated in Hermione's ears and she suddenly found herself laughing with him. Their gazes met and their voices died as they stared into each other's eyes.
"Mr. Riddle, what is the meaning of this?"
The two new friends froze as a voice sounded behind them. They whipped around and Hermione jaw hit the ground. A fifty year younger Dumbledore was striding toward them, a stern look on his wrinkle-free face. "And who might this be, Tom?" he asked curiously, but not accusingly, when he reached them.
Tom stood quickly and replied, "Professor, this is Hermione; she has a Time Turner, almost exactly like mine." He glanced at Hermione and she pulled the Time Turner from her pocket.
"May I?" Dumbledore asked as he stared curiously at the charm.
After a moment's hesitation, she placed it into his hand. He inspected it then turned it over to peer at the bottom surface. Hermione almost stopped him, but he had already seen it. He returned it with a forced, cheery smile. "It is a very…interesting… work," he commented.
Turning back to Tom, who had been watching uncomfortably at their exchange, he said, Since there has been no solution to reversing time travel, would you care to mentor Hermione here in the ways of a Slytherin?" Tom nodded enthusiastically. "That is, if you don't mind being in Tom's House?" Dumbledore added to Hermione with a twinkle in his eye.
She cocked her head slightly and nodded. "That would be fine."
"Very well, you may go and begin your counseling now, Tom. And Hermione…" he turned his gaze back to her. "We will get you back to your own year as soon as we can. Until then, I hope you enjoy your stay." He smiled at her and swept neatly away, vanishing as quickly as he had come.
Tom stared after his professor a moment before turning to grin excitedly at Hermione. "Come on, then, I'll show you to the Slytherin Tower." Holding his arm out in a playful manner, he straightened his back and lifted is head regally.
Hermione nodded, playing along, and looped her arm through his and they set off together. As they entered the hallways, Hermione glanced curiously at Tom. "So, why aren't you in any classes?"
"I was further ahead in my classes than anyone, so they gave me a few days off. Today, tomorrow and Friday, to be exact. Then there's the weekend, so that's like five days of no schoolwork." He paused, his shoulders slumping. "But I thought I would have no one to spend the break with. But now you're here!"
At that moment, they pulled to a halt in front of a large portrait of a thin, old man with jet black hair that reminded Hermione distinctly of an older Professor Snape. The thought made her snort faintly.
"Password?" the man drawled slowly, emotionlessly, as they stood there.
"Bloodied blade and soul," Tom muttered. Hermione stared at him with shock as the portrait swung outward. Tom snickered at her expression. "He had the most gruesome passwords," he explained dryly.
Hermione shook her head and followed him up a shallow staircase. As a room opened up in front of them, she gasped in awe. The Slytherin Common room was nothing she would have ever expected. In fact, it was so like Gryffindor's own Common room, she would have thought she was in her own house, had it not been completely Slytherin themed. Green and silver curtains draped the windows. Emerald sofas lined the walls, with detailed patterns sewn in. A Slytherin Banner hung on the far wall, with a hissing serpent embroidered in the fine fabric. Tom caught her look of awe and grinned at her. "You like it?"
She turned her gaze to the massive, gleaming chandelier above their heads and nodded hazily. Tom, apparently satisfied by her vague answer, led her to an elegantly made divan near the fire. They sat down.
As he started explaining the ways of Slytherin, she was amazed at how alike Slytherin house and her own were. They had a similar system, and even, according to what Tom explained, rules. He finished and glanced hesitantly at her. "Is that too much?"
Hermione shook her head, her silky hair waving over her shoulders. "It's very much like Gryffindor," she said with a smile. "Yes, I like it."
Tom grinned, but at that moment, footsteps sounded outside the portrait hole. He stared at her in shock and hurriedly stood, gesturing her to follow as he bounded up the spiral staircase in the corner. He bolted down a long hall with multiple doors at regular intervals and stopped at the last one on the right. Muttering what Hermione guessed to be the password, he pushed to door open and shooed her inside.
"I have to go now, make yourself at home. I'll be up in a few hours. If you want to read, the books are over there—" a wave of his hand towards the corner of the room "—and i will bring you something from the Great Hall later." He abruptly grasped her shoulder, staring into her eyes. "Will you be ok?"
She nodded he gazed at her a moment longer before sweeping from the room, locking the door behind him and leaving her alone. She turned and took in the room.
Like the common room, it was adorned with emerald and silver. Hermione guessed it was about twenty by twenty two feet in size. A fancy four poster was situated in the far corner, its drapes pulled neatly. Directly across from the door through which she entered a broad window looked out over the Quidditch field. The dying rays of the setting sun cast an orange glow across the castle. Hermione walked slowly to the bookshelf which Tom had gestured and was amazed at how many volumes he had. She ran a finger gently across the rows, before finally selecting an aged, thick volume that caught her interest. Who Created the Dark Arts and Why was pressed in fading gold on the worn leather. Curious, she made her way across the room to a sofa by the window and sat down. As the sunlight died, she began reading.
Tom hurried up the vacant stairs towards his room, careful as to not let the tray he was holding clatter. Upon reaching his room, he said the password and hurried inside. Seeing the room was dark, he wondered if Hermione was still here. He scanned the room quickly and his eyes came to rest on a figure standing by the window, her shoulders shaking violently.
He quietly walked over to stand beside her and noticed tears staining her cheeks. He gently rested a hand on her shoulder. She jolted from her thoughts and, seeing him there, gazed at him in surprise. "I—I don't belong here," she whispered sadly. "I can't stay."
Tom blinked slowly and unexpectedly pulled her into his arms, allowing her to sob gently into his chest. He stroked her auburn hair, whispering comforting words into her ear and holding her close. When she was recomposed she stepped back but Tom kept her close. "You can belong here, if you would like." He gazed into her eyes and leaned down to press his lips tenderly to hers. Her eyes widened in shock, but then she closed her eyes and returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer to her. When they broke apart, her eyes glittered with fresh tears.
"Thank you," she whispered, "For everything."
A/N Please do me favor and review! Answer me this: should I continue this FanFic?
