Hello! This is my first Harry Potter fic. I just watched Half Blood Prince and was inspired...for some reason I love the bad guys and have had riddle on the brain. So this story is for him :) Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle jr. takes place a few hours after Deathly Hallows. Hope you like :) oh...and review

I don't own Harry Potter. Nope.

The Beginning

"You have no control over what the other guy does. You only have control over what you do" A.J. Kitt

Thunder crashed overhead. The storm was in full force and attacked earth with a vengeance. Thick clouds boiled over one another, filling the murky darkness of the evening sky with black. Deadly bolts of lightning periodically set the horizon on fire, usually forking across the clouds but occasionally slicing into the ground somewhere in the distance.

Every few minutes the ground would tremble violently, encouraging Hermione to run faster. She had just reached the protective trees of the Forbidden Forest when a particularly large quake sent her sprawling into the mud. With a few choice words she picked herself up and continued on. Only a little further...

The events of the last few hours played through her mind.

When Harry had returned with the news that Voldemort was dead, the aftermath was bittersweet. So many lives had been lost that night, yet it seemed that the dark cloud that had taken over these last few months had been lightened. The great weight each person shouldered was lifted. So much had been destroyed and much was to be rebuilt, but tonight was for celebration. The fight was finally over, as the Dark Lord was rid forever from the world.

And so they had celebrated. They had raised their wands towards the heavens in a moment of mourning before filling the sky with the bright sparks of rejoice. The atmosphere was mournful and hopeful and ecstatic all at once.

And then everything had fallen apart.

The first earthquake was a surprise and did not cause a particular amount of concern. It lasted barely a fraction of a second before subsiding. Half an hour later the second quake hit. Stronger than the first and lasting slightly longer, but no cause for concern. It wasn't until the third quake shook the earth that anyone begun to worry.

Britain was not prone to earthquakes. It was not situated on any major faults and therefore did not have a significant quake history. Three such events within an hour wasn't only strange, it was downright bizarre. Something was amiss.

An hour and a half and six quakes later (each of which had grown in intensity and duration ), a man had apparated into the Hogwart's courtyard. A few of the battle survivors went to meet him. He brought news of horror. The earthquakes were being felt all over Great Britain. The source was determined to be somewhere in the ocean off the western coast. The continuous shaking had apparently created a barrage of waves to hit the shore. As the quake strength grew, so did the size of the waves. They were quickly eating away at the island. Already, miles of low lying coastland lay beneath the waves, and that area was growing at an alarming pace. Muggle scientists predicted the sea would swallow the entire isle within three days without intervention. It was a modern day Atlantis.

The last detail shared by the man was the most disturbing. It caused the weight, temporarily removed, to fall back heavier than even upon the shoulders of all whom heard his words. In the sky, visible to all close the western coast, the Dark Mark barred its skeletal smile.

This was met with confusion. The Dark Lord was dead, slain that very evening. How could his mark be present? It was impossible...

Everyone held their breath as they waited impatiently for more news. A steady stream of new arrivals confirmed the first man and expanded on his story. The earthquake epicentre had been examined. It was determined that the cause was magic, and that magic was traced back to Voldemort's wand.

It was ingenious, Hermione had to admit as she narrowly missed a sharp branch. The Dark Lord had insured that his demise would bring about the destruction of everything else. Even in death, he would destroy them all...The spell he had used was powerful and unique. No wizard or with could figure out how to stop it. It would certainly continue until Great Britain lay in runes under the tumultuous ocean, and was anyone's guess whether it would stop even after that had been achieved.

It was decided that every able magic wielder stationed at Hogwarts would be sent to the coast. A last ditch plan had been formed. They would try to create a massive shield to protect the coast, hold it as long as possible. It was obvious that this plan had many faults, would probably be ineffective but it was their only choice. As Hermione prepared to apparate she felt a hand on her should, stopping her. She turned to face Minerva Mcgonagall.

"Not you," the elderly professor whispered. "There is something you must do."

Mcgonagall feared the worst-there was no way the shield plan would work. She confided in Hermione an entirely different, very illegal, and exceptionally dangerous idea. What if someone could put a stop to all of their troubles before they started? If they could prevent the magic destroying Great Britain from ever being cast?

That idea had led Hermione to her current position. She fought through thrones and dense bush, making her way towards the clearing her professor had mentioned. It couldn't be far now.

"What I am going to suggest is dangerous-likely to prove deadly. Don't feel like you must do this, Hermione." Mcgonagall warned, keeping her voice low. "If there was a way to prevent all of this from ever happening, would you take it?"

"Yes." Hermione had responded without missing a beat. " I would do anything."

Mcgonagall closed her eyes, preparing herself. "It may be possible for a single person to go back in time, back before Voldemort has risen to power. That person would have the chance to defeat him before he does all this." She motioned to the rumble of Hogwarts. "They may be able to save us."

Hermione had accepted the professor's idea. She quietly snuck away from the others, keeping the plan secret from everyone else. Mcgonagall was certain many would oppose the plan. The professor had revealed that she had not surrendered Hermione's time turner to the Ministry of Magic in third year. Instead, the professor had claimed it had been destroyed and instead hid the device. It now lay in a sealed box, half a foot underground in a clearing somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.

As Hermione broke through a particularly tight thicket, the ground heaved. Hermione forget how many tremors had passed, they were now so numerous. After catching her balance the girl hurried onward, picking up her pace.

After what seemed like an eternity Hermione stumbled into a clearing. Without the protection of leaves the rain hurled down full force and obscured her vision. She stumbled around, wasting precious moments looking for the sign Mcgonagall had told her about. She was about to give up and try to find another clearing when another quake hit, sending her tumbling. A sharp pain burst through her wrist, causing her to gasp. She could feel hot tears running down her face and warming her cheeks. She slammed her good hand into the ground in anger. It was then that she noticed the sign.

She moved her hand. There it was, burnt into the watery ground. The intricate rune glowed softly green against black soil. Hermione felt her heart leap. This was it. She looked around for anything to dig with. Finding nothing, and not wanting to risk harming the delicate instrument that lay beneath with magic, she used her hands to move the soil. The ground was hard and the rain kept washing the displaced soil back into the hole. The box was not buried deep but proved difficult to reach. When her nails finally made contact with silver she felt her heart leap. She dragged the box out of the ground.

"Alohamora." She whispered quietly. The star shaped lock binding the box broke open with a click. Barely containing her excitement she opened the lid. The golden charm lay on blue silk. "Thank goodness." She murmured. What would she have done if the time turner was gone?

She picked up the device, sighing as the gold warmed to her fingers. The familiar feel of it was comforting. She quickly did a calculation in her head, figuring out just how many turns it would take her to reach the right year. Her goal was 1938- the first year that Voldemort (then Tom Riddle) had entered Hogwarts. She recalled that he had been friendless that year, and wouldn't have that much experience with magic. It would be easy dispose of him.

She turned the device the calculated amount. Crossing her fingers, Hermione prayed this would work. The time turner was very accurate with small time travels, but the larger the time distance the less accurate the device got. She could only hope to arrive in the desired year. With one last look at her surrounding, Hermione slipped the device over her head. All was still for a moment, and then she was overcome with dizziness as the turner whirled her back through the years.

In the clearing, the image of a girl with long bushy hair wavered for a moment before flickering out of existence. Rain quickly washed mud to fill the hole, remove her footprints. In a few brief moments it was like the girl never existed. A tremor shook the earth.