"You're lying; I know you are, Hermione..."
Actually, she wanted to leave instantly, but then she stopped and looked at him apologetically.
Standing in the library, he told her, he was looking forward to going to Hogmeade with her, although he was a half-blood, he wished she would spend time with him...
Hermione found it difficult to swallow, but what should she do? He liked a person, that didn't really exist. In fact, only Harry, Draco and the headmaster himself knew that she wasn't Dippet's niece. Not that lovable, intelligent pureblood, all thought she were...
"It's not because you don't have any time, but because you don't want to waste it on trash like me...," Hermione never saw Tom like this before, bitterly disappointed and sad. Usually he was the smart and confidential, charming Head-boy, every time but now.
It was as if her heart cracked in tiny little pieces. Trash – how could he talk about himself like this? Didn't he notice that he was outstanding in every way Hermione could think? Didn't he knew, that he made it, to let her forget all her sorrows? – Well, maybe he doesn't, but because she never told him...
Slowly she took a few steps towards the tall young man and reached softly for his hand. His skin was cold. Her other hand stroked his dark hair nearly affectionately and as soon as her forehead leaned against his, she whispered: "I don't want you to say – I don't want you to think that ever again. And I don't want you to accept it when anyone has the need to tell you. At least, they have no idea how -" Hermione stopped immediately mumbling and opened her eyes again. She didn't know when she had closed them.
'- wonderful you are.' Tom was exactly aware of what she was about to say to him, and by the time he found out, he stopped breathing – the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, would compliment him. With shaking fingers he embraced her slender waist – he need to stabilise, Tom was in exhilaration. At least he found even the bravery to kiss her.
He would, if she let him, but she didn't. Hermione looked away and took his hands gently.
Disappointment again, Riddle hated – and that was no comparison to what he really felt - these ups and downs. Normally he could hide his feelings behind his mask of being everything but himself, well normally – normally he didn't try to ask Hermione having a date with him. His eyes began to burn hot and he had to swallow hard. He never wanted to start crying in front of her and he wouldn't. He wouldn't let her know how bad she had hit him.
After a few more breaths Hermione started talking in a whisper again. "But Tom, you don't know anything about me and I wish it were as easy as standing beside you... "He looked down at her with narrowed eyes, she didn't mind. "Tom, not even the truth has stayed with me. And I have to accept that. There's nothing I can do-"
"You could tell me", he answered quietly although he didn't want. He even didn't want to give it a try to understand her, but that was Hermione standing here and still holding softly his hands, drawing circles on his skin with her thumbs.
She took a deep breath and as she tried to talk, her voice broke. With tearful eyes she murmured: "I could if I wanted, and would if that didn't mean you were in danger." Anyone would be in danger if he knew.
After Harry, Draco and Hermione had lost the war and all their family and friends in their time, they travelled back to destroy Lord Voldemort as he was a boy, not more than a teenager. But the longer they stayed there, the more they changed. They had told Dippet they had fought against Grindelwald and didn't know how they landed here in Hogwarts. The headmaster didn't want it to become public that there were enemies of that wizard attending the school. At least, they changed time, by only travelling back; it was as if every new day changed their memories. And they had new problems; the goal wasn't to destroy Riddle anymore, but Grindelwald. Eventually, all their lies became reality.
"And I wish it weren't that difficult." Hermione looked like a picture of misery. Tom embraced her again. At least he knew about the war against Grindelwald, because he had heard Professor Dumbledore and Hermione talking, and although she never wasted any words any other time on it, he tried as hard as much to understand how it was like – carrying for others, feeling alone although being surrounded by so many people in school, being misplaced. And somehow he knew what it meant to live like that, he knew it exactly. Tom softly kissed her forehead, mumbling: "In the end it'll be all ok, if it's not, it's not the end..."