Author's Note: I wanted to write a time turner story because I think Tom Riddle is devastatingly handsome and the idea of him thinking that he is an elf was just too hilarious to pass up. I don't quite know how this story will play out, but feel free to share whatever ideas you have!
Let the story begin...
There was something terribly wrong. The time turner was supposed to take Hermione back to the year 1944 so that she could prevent Tom Riddle from creating his horcruxes and thereby later becoming Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore had warned her about the consequences of dabbling with the fabric of time, but the scene before her was utterly baffling.
Hermione had been transported to what appeared to be the main kitchen at Hogwarts. A passing elf had told her that it was, indeed, the year 1944, but that didn't explain the strange scene before her. Having been acquainted with the unnerving red of Voldemort's eyes, the snake-like features of his face, and his ghastly, translucent skin, Hermione was startled by the beauty of his youth.
His hair was silky brown, parted to the side of his head in soft waves. Hermione fingered her own bushy mane, secretly envious that he possessed such locks. Even his features spoke of aristocratic breeding, despite the Muggle origins of his father. His limbs were long and sculpted gracefully with muscle, covered by a smooth expanse of fair skin.
Then there was the issue of his clothing.
Or, in this case, the lack thereof.
He had what appeared to be a pillowcase around his waist, the length of which was indecently short. Hermione felt her cheeks flush at the way the cloth lifted as he bent to retrieve an item from the shelf. It inched higher and higher to almost obscene heights.
"Tom!" she finally shrieked, unable to watch in silence any longer. The image of his pale backside would forever be ingrained in her mind and for the first time Hermione begrudged her large brain.
Upon hearing her outburst, Tom squeaked and dropped a pot. He turned towards her, eyes wide and lips trembling.
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
Perhaps it wasn't the most suitable way to approach him, given that this was their first meeting in this time, but things were already far from what Hermione had anticipated. She refrained from tapping her foot in impatience as Tom shuffled towards her with a chagrined expression. His shoulders were hunched as though fearful of her wrath.
"I is sorry," he whispered in a quivering voice.
"Sorry?" she intoned, brows furrowed in confusion.
Due to her embarrassment at seeing him so exposed, Hermione had screeched, slipping into the unconscious use of his first name, yet it was Tom who was apologizing to her. She couldn't understand why he wasn't angry. Hermione had heard rumors of how he abhorred the name 'Tom' for it reminded him too much of his father.
Putting that momentarily to the side, why in the world was his grammar so horrendous? Hermione was told that Tom had been the best wizard of his year. Had there somehow been a mistake?
"What are you apologizing for?" she asked hesitantly.
Tears welled in his eyes as his hands balled into fists.
"Tomsy is a bad elf!"
He slammed his fist into his head and Hermione's mouth fell open in shock. Tom continued his self-berating, hitting his head with each rebuke.
"Bad Tomsy!"
Punch.
"Bad! Bad!"
Hermione grabbed his wrists before he could inflict further damage.
"Stop that!" she cried.
Tom flinched at her tone so Hermione lowered her voice.
"Tom…sy," Hermione began carefully, "do you know where Dumbledore is?"
A frantic nod was her only reply.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps Dumbledore would be able to explain what was going on around here.
"Then could you please direct me to him?"
Tom nodded once more and scurried out of the kitchen. Hermione trailed behind him cautiously, hoping that nothing else would surprise her.
Author's Note: Please review!