Prologue: Uncertainty
Tom and Hermione stood with Minerva, Abraxas, and a few of the other Knights. They were in front of the door to the secret room in the Hogwarts library, with the special permission of the new Headmaster, Harriet Grumwater, who was also in attendance.
"You're sure this is what you want to do?" Minerva asked. "You two could simply remain here and live a relatively peaceful life. You don't have to leave."
"No, Minerva, too much has happened here for me to remain," said Tom as he took Hermione's hand in his own. "I'd like our little family to live free from all of that. This room will know exactly where Hermione and I are meant to go."
"Then perhaps we will meet again someday," she responded, giving him a kiss on his cheek. "Good luck, Tom. Good luck, Hermione," she said, giving Hermione a kiss as well.
"Come, love," said Tom.
Hermione surged forward and gave Abraxas a hug. "You've been a good friend, Brax. I never thought I'd ever say that to a Malfoy, but you have."
"Well, I never did get to ravish you," he teased. "But who knows, there's always the future, isn't there?"
"Not if you value your life, Malfoy," Tom told him. "Come on, Hermione, let's go."
Waving to all their friends, Tom and Hermione stepped into the secret room and turned to look into each other's eyes. They knew exactly what they wished for as the white light surrounded them and they disappeared from this place and time, uncertain where they would end up, but glad they would arrive there together.
Chapter One: The Open Door
Hermione blinked in the bright light. She felt a hand resting on her stomach, and she remembered in a flash everything that had happened since the last time she'd been in this room. She remembered that Tom Riddle was at her side, and that her wish had been granted.
"I think we're here—wherever here is," said Tom softly as the light began to dim. "Look at that. The door seems to be open."
"Yes, so it is," said Hermione, her suspicions rising as she stepped cautiously forward. "It's Hogwarts, of course, just as I expected. But I wonder what year it is now."
A familiar voice met their ears as they peered around the corner. Minerva McGonagall said, "Oh, there you are. I've been waiting for you two to show up."
"By the look of you, I'd say you've been waiting a while," Tom smirked as he looked his old friend up and down. "How many years has it been, exactly, Nerve?"
"Roughly thirty, Riddle, and don't rub it in," she said stoically as she straightened the pointed hat upon her head. "As it turns out, I had to call you two here. I don't suppose you managed to live any life in the interim—unless you've gotten Hermione pregnant yet again and failed to bring your children along for the ride?"
"No, we've only just gone in," Hermione told her.
"Why did you call us here, then?" Tom wanted to know.
"I would prefer to leave that discussion for the Headmaster's rooms, if you please," she said briskly. "Come along, I'm certain you know the way."
Tom and Hermione exchanged a look, but then shrugged and followed right after Minerva as she took them to the Gargoyle and up the stairs beyond. Professor Flitwick was seated behind the desk in the Headmaster's office. The chair had been modified to accommodate his extremely short stature. He peered at the young couple as they entered the room.
"Ah, Mister Riddle, Miss Granger—"
"Riddle," Hermione insisted as she reached for Tom's hand.
"As you wish," he said, and cleared his throat. "I have heard all about the two of you, and I must say you've already had quite the adventure. You, Mr. Riddle, are the leading expert on Horcruxes next to Albus Dumbledore himself, and I'm afraid we have need of your skills yet again."
"What do you mean, sir?" asked Tom, his face falling at the thought.
"Albus Dumbledore has escaped from Azkaban," said Flitwick grimly. "We believe he's been making Horcruxes out of prisoners this whole time, but we were never able to prove it. He and about fifty prisoners managed to escape about a month ago, and they've been running rampant all over the country, killing Muggles and destroying property. We're at a complete loss as to how to stop him, and so we called in the two of you."
"We've no real friends in this time, Professor Flitwick," Hermione told him.
"You know his name?" Tom asked curiously.
"Yes." Hermione nodded, and then continued, "You can't expect us to just show up and eradicate Dumbledore with no army of our own, sir. It would be impossible to combat his army and get to him. It's going to take time."
"I am aware of that, my dear," he agreed. "That is why we have arranged to put the two of you back into school as seventh years. We'll have to change your names and such, of course, but we can deal with that directly. You are to blend in and get recruits, and maybe even discover if Dumbledore has already gained influence here at Hogwarts. We believe he's been making Horcruxes out of young Gryffindores, and we need to determine if that rumor is true."
"You've got this all figured out except for one thing," said Tom. "Hermione is supposed to give birth in four months. What sort of back story are you going to give for that?"
"You two have been home schooled but want to finish your final year of education here," he said. "There won't be any need to be apart or pretend you or not a couple, considering Hermione's state. You can simply say that you appear to have gotten started a bit earlier than expected and leave it at that. I'm sure that your peers will understand completely."
"Yes, that's true," Minerva added with a smirk. "1970 is much more understanding of such things than 1945, that's for sure. It's early September, by the way. You're going to be here for the entire school year. Hermione's baby should be born well before then."
"And are we to retake our N.E.W.T.s?" Hermione wanted to know, making both Tom and Minerva smirk. "What's so funny?"
"Ready to hit the books already, love?" Tom asked with a chuckle.
"As a matter of fact, I am," she grumbled.
"Hermione, your name here shall be Jean, and Tom's shall be—"
"Can I be Merlin?" he asked hopefully.
"No lack of ambition, I see, Minerva, just as you said," Flitwick commented dryly. "Very well, you can be Merlin. But what last name? What say you, Hermione—I mean Jean?"
"No one here is likely to remember my last name," she said, smirking at Tom in her turn. "Or, more precisely, my maiden name."
"Merlin Granger sound ridiculous," Tom grumbled. "Our last name shall be Gaunt."
"Yes, a wonderful idea," Flitwick said. "I'm certain the name has fallen into disuse, so no one would connect it to your past in today's day and age. So be it. And Merlin? Do try to remember that you're not supposed to be drawing any attention to yourself, will you?"
"Bother that," said Tom with a smirk. "If I want recruits, attention is precisely what I'm going to need."
"I thought you said he would be cooperative, Minerva?" Flitwick complained.
"Did I?" she smirked. "I certainly don't remember saying that. Come along, you two, let's get you settled into the dungeon. You've been given a room of your own due to—well, your particular needs. Thank you, Headmaster Flitwick, I really do believe this is the best plan we've got."