Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor will profit from this fanfic in anyway. Also, the Potter Puppet Pal and their quotes belong to their rightful owners. I just love the PPP!
Summary: At first, it seemed like a mistake. Lucius had placed the book into Hermione Granger's bag, not Ginny Weasley's. At first, the Dark Lord had been angry for the Malfoy rarely made mistakes (such perfectionists aren't they?). However, the plans changed for the better. Lucius's little foil would change the course of the Wizarding world forever.
Chapter One: Snape, Snape, Severus Snape.
At first, she was surprised by the random book that laid in her bag filled with the ones she had just purchased earlier that day for the upcoming fall semester at Hogwarts. Fear struck a cord thinking she had accidentally stolen the small book that had fallen into her bag. Doubting the cashier had placed it intentional, Hermione Granger did an overview of the book; its black cover hinted at age, and that was all. No date, author, title or anything else to indicate what exactly this book was about. Maybe it was inside? She eagerly opened it hoping to perhaps to read it before returning it to its rightful owner. When she did, the only words were T. M. Riddle. Odd; she had never heard that author before. Maybe he or she was new to the writing industry? Turning the pages to discover more, Hermione's hope fell as there laid more blank pages. Quickly, she took the width of the pages and flipped through them only to dash any remaining hope away. A diary or journal? Maybe T. M. Riddle was the name of the company that made them. Since there was no way of establishing who it belonged it, she might has well use it.
She glanced at her watch that read nine-thirty; plenty of time to create a profile of herself to establish her personality within the book. Hermione didn't think she was girly enough to write in a journal like most others at her age did. Instead, she read the diaries of past royalties wanting to know more of their life. Before discovering she was a witch, she mainly read anything that had to deal with the Romanov family. Empress Alexandra was a beautiful woman who only saw what was best for her nation and children. Often Hermione dreamt she was a empress of one of the most powerful nations, able to command legions in her name, and was beautiful; to be admired by women, men gazing hopelessly as she walked beside her (hopefully very handsome for Nicholas II surely was) husband who had the respect of his fellow men.
Hermione settled herself on her bed, pjs all ready on, and things ready for tomorrows day of classes. Excitement built, and she was going to release it within the compound pages of the book whom she hoped to keep her secrets and thoughts. Pulling out a quill whose ink would never cease, she held opened the blank page and began to write.
I guess I could introduce myself as Hermione Granger, second year at Hogwarts, a school for wizards and witches.
She couldn't help, but express herself: likes, dislikes, favorite books, her friends and other more large and minute details of her life. Pages and pages were filled until something distracted her enough to notice that everyone had gone to bed. Checking the time, it was nearly eleven, but she didn't feel tired in the least bit, but that didn't change the fact that she had to go to bed in order to wake up in time for classes tomorrow. Putting the quill down and closing the book, Hermione set them on the nightstand, snuggled into the covers and pillow and fell asleep before another thought could be whispered.
~.~.~.~Snape, Snape, Severus Snape.~.~.~.~
The next morning was very interesting, quite funny actually, but she never let them know. Ron had received a howler from his mother after Harry and he had stolen Mr. Weasley's car, and ran it into the Whomping Willow tree. She was just too absorbed in Voyages with Vampires to express any human emotion besides pleased that (perhaps) the boys had learned their lesson. Herbology was first up, and once again she shined her intelligence causing the other students to disgruntle. Transfiguration didn't help Ron's mood 'ither when she showed off all her perfect beetle-turned-coat buttons. Perhaps the best (or worst to all the males) was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Gilderoy Lockhart. Hermione admired that irritable man too much to see that he was, well, a coward to put it nicely. As the days, weeks and a few months wore on she continued to put all five senses into word form. Second year went by without much incident; Third was interesting: Time-Turners, Buckbeak, Sirius Black and slapping Malfoy. Fourth year, however, was going to change.
It was the first night back, and Hermione was writing everything down in the diary she had become fond of until she noticed that she was on the last page. It wasn't a surprise – it had managed to hold up for two full years before giving way of an incumbent amount of pages. Sadly, this meant she had to go shopping for another. Maybe she would find another one just like it in the same bookstore? Once she had finished writing in the last page, she smiled sadly. At least in fifty years or so she could look at it again, and smile and laugh at the happy memories. Suddenly, the page went blank shocking Hermione. She flipped all the way to the front where two years ago she had begun to write only to discover that they too were blank. But why?
Maybe this was why the original owner got rid of it. A sad and irritated sigh escaped, but when she looked back down at the page there was writing.
Hello. My name is Tom Riddle.
That surely wasn't there before. Picking up her quill again (she had dropped it in shock), she replied. Curiosity filled her mind at what exactly this strange book might hold besides talking to you.
Hello. My name is Hermione Granger.
It's nice to finally meet you Miss Granger. I've read so much about you. I apologize about the suddenness.
Why didn't you ever, in a sense, write before? Have you always been here?
Yes, but I must admit I've never thought a girl would be as smart as you have written. Your theories, questions and thirst for knowledge is quite refreshing from the girls I'm used to.
I'll take a guess, and say they chat or write about boys and fashion. Never about spells, history or anything useful. I understand how you feel. The girls here are almost the exact same, if not a bit worse or better depending on whose listening.
Have you ever read "Werewolves, Basilisks and Other Creatures"?
I have.
And throughout the night the two spoke, both happily engaging in an intelligent conversation for once until it was one in the morning, and Hermione had to go to sleep. Both said their goodnight, and Hermione snuggled into her blankets and pillow; instantly falling into a wondrous slumber. Rarely had she engaged anyone besides a professor or upper-level year in an intelligent conversation, and this was very refreshing. This Tom Riddle knew so much, and she was so excited that she had a different friend besides Ron and Harry. They were still her friends mind you, but they were boys who usually had girls on their mind around this age.
Tom Riddle 'smiled' inside the concealed pages that provided detailed information about the girl's life. He was told by his 'creator' that he was suppose to be given to a Ginny Weasley who was the youngest out of seven children and had a crush on the infamous Harry Potter. However, plans had changed, and at first it seemed horrible because no one besides him would know of the mishap. However, the more this Hermione wrote the more it seemed the plan would continue. Her thirst for knowledge hardly seemed quenched by the rules and regulations of Hogwart's library, and he knew one day she would be aching for something else, something more. Soon, he would reveal his mission, and watch as her selfless, good girl attitude vanish only to be replaced by something more . . . darker. After all, the Darkness was always more inviting than the Light.
