Thorn Bird

Chapter I:

Arbiter


Pairings: Tom Riddle JR X Hermione Granger

Rated: M

Plot: (Time-turner fic) The light tainted by darkness, becomes the darkness in order to defeat the darkness. This is an epic tale of revenge and love spanning an entire lifetime — this is the story of two women, Ginny and Hermione who has to suffer all the sacrifices in their life, and will go to extreme measures and walk very different paths to achieve their desires.

Ginny is a strong and courageous woman who has suffered a difficult life, but continues to embrace people around her despite longing for affection herself. She harbours the hope that she will meet her beloved families and friends if she saves Tom Riddle as Harry wished, striving to reach her goal and overcome her suffering with her pure and innocent nature.

In contrast, Hermione was once a pure and innocent girl. But that all changes when the war breaks out, losing her lover, friends and family. Her traumatic past pushes her on a path of vengeance against the people who wronged her and made her life into shambles.

In 1938, she is now a woman-turned-child whose life is a complicated web of lies, propelled by her greedy desires that stems from the wars, she's willing to throw away everything in order to get revenge on the people who caused her pain and ruined her entire life. While knowing her tragic ambition will eventually leads her down the path of destruction; she pursues her ambition with mad determination...

The 'thorn birds' of the title refers to Hermione's character, who can only bring out her best at the cost of great pain.

Summary: Hermione and Ginny dangerously dangled at the edge of the cliff; coming face to face with the Dark Lord she unleashes the diatribe, "No victory lasts forever. The war can be started again by those who seek victory. It may appear reckless. One layer of an egg's shell, cast against a stone will surely break. But no matter how strong a stone, it is dead. And no matter how weak an egg, it is alive. When time passes a stone will crumble into dirt. But someday there is a chick who will hatch from that egg and walk upon that dirt. The day will come when your murderous tyranny and oppression cannot defeat that egg." Then they jumped.


A/N: Before you guys read this, I want you to know (if you don't already know) about the meaning of the name Hermione because I will be adding (a little twisted) elements related to meanings of the name 'Hermione'.

Hermione's name meaning derives from Greek word and in Greek mythology; Hermione was the daughter of King Menelaus of Sparta and Helen of Troy. The name also appears in Shakespeare's play, 'The Winter's Tale' as the Queen of Sicily to King Leontes.

Hermione is considered feminine version of Hermes (who acted as a messenger between Gods and humans) therefore it is safe to assume that meaning of Hermione is:

Messenger, earthly, stone and well born.

Also, I'll be basing off people's description from the movies (for some reason, I prefer the actor who played Tom Riddle in HP 6 than Christian Coulson) for some but most of the time, I'll try to stay faithful to the books.

-Rewritten and added on 5th February, 2016-


"When I was a little girl, my understanding of revenge was as simple as the Sunday school proverbs it hid behind. Neat little morality slogans like "do unto other," and "two wrongs don't make a right." But two wrongs can never make a right… …because two wrongs can never equal each other. For the truly wronged, real satisfaction can only be found in one of two places… …absolute forgiveness or mortal vindication. This is not a story about forgiveness." — Emily Thorne, Revenge.


Her twisted fate shakes the world


"A thorn bird is a mythical bird who sings just once in life, the sweetest song ever to be heard from the day it is born. In fierce pursuit of the thorn tree, the moment it is born, the thorn bird leaves its nest and does not rest until it has fulfilled its final quest." Her mother told her, stroking through her daughter's messy locks, as young Hermione traced the outline of the bird with curious wonder, "Silent its entire life until the final hour, its voice begins to float through the air and the whole world stops to listen to the music from the tree. And God looks down and smiles upon the beautiful melody. More lovely than the Nightingale, more melodious than the Lark." The page turned and the image strikes the young girl's heart with the pain filled silhouette of the pierced bird etched upon the paper, "When it finds it, the bird impales itself upon the sharpest thorn, and rises above the agony to sing the most beautiful song ever heard, flowing from its heart before dying among the thorns. What kind of bird would save so sweet a song until the end of its life? Its months of utter silence and then one single ballad to transcend toward the heavens. Who is this peculiar creature, who would so beguile and mystify us with its exotic, bewildering and transforming song?"

The book ended with the bird's death, an ironic mixture of sadness and joy in its meaning. Its end is neither sad nor happy. It is peaceful, free.

While the message itself would have been considered level beyond understanding to a child her age, she was no ordinary girl. Young Hermione was brilliant, mature and intelligent for her age. She was…different.

"Do you think the bird died happy?" Hermione asked her.

"Probably," She answered, "It found what it was looking for its whole life and so without regret, died with happiness."


You know, I didn't even dare to dream about it. 19th September, I turned seventeen year old. And I stamped out of my child status. I didn't know that fate will have a very bitter taste…


Harry handed her enchanted beaded handbag with a determined look, "Take it, Hermione. Should we fail…" he clasped the time-turner around Hermione's neck, the trinket pressing against her chest was heavy with burden, "Use this."

"Harry, don't do this! There must be another way! I-if you give me some time, I-I can—" Hermione pleaded, her voice hoarse not only from fear and grief but also from the lack of food or water which explained her malnourished appearance.

"I have to. You've done enough." He firmly stated, tracing the torture marks that scarred her once flawless skin. Not one single inch of her skin was unmarred and when he and Ron saw the state of her, they had fallen onto the ground with neurotic wails that took few moment to realise it was theirs'. Her once beautiful face and body was forever gnarled with precipitous 'MUDBLOOD' that was etched into her like stones; to be the opprobrium of being a muggle-born, "I lived 17 years of my life trying to make it right. And all I've left behind are burdens. I'm the one who's sorry. Hermione, you have to win. In this world where I never won, try winning once."

The trio and Ginny stood up from the floor, still shaken and dried tears evident on their muddy skins at the revelation that was about to unfold.

Ron gave Harry a small, assuring smile, "Together, mate."

"Together." Harry nodded.

"Ron."

"Harry."

The two men turned around to each of their significant others' voices before they were passionately crushed in the arms of their beloved yet their plea was different.

"Everybody will die." Ginny muttered, noting Harry's hesitant to return the embrace, "There are a lot of people who have already left us: my dad, my brother, my mother, your mother, your father, Sirius… but their love will never leave us. So, even if you're going to die, don't push me away! In this world there are so many unexpected deaths. I don't want us to lose the chance to love each other just because of fear!" It was this courage Ginny showed and gave did Harry returned the hug with same passion.

"Be safe." He whispered to her, "Look after each other. I love you. Even in death, I'll still love you. I was thankful, and more thankful. You must return soon. I will not forget. I can't forget. After death, in whatever world I come to, I will not forget you." Harry gave a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Don't do this Ron." Hermione sobbed, "Please! Just give me a time to find a way!"

A poignant smile spread across his lip, "I love you, so I won't die in order to save you." He promised, "You shouldn't do it either. We will come back."

With slow and grim movement, he unclasped her sweaty hands from his back, "Just because we're lost for a while, doesn't mean we lost everything. The place we are headed towards… there may be some losses but we won't be living like a coward."

With that, he slipped by her hands…like a grain of sand escaping through her fingers, unable to catch the fine slipping soil ever again.

They spoke words of reuniting but the four knew there was only demise waiting for them. Their future was bleak, hopeless and non-existent.

Ron and Harry walked out of the ruins of what was left of Hogwarts, Ginny struggling to hold Hermione back as she asked for one last time.

"Why him?!" She shouted angrily, "Why do you want to..save him?! I can't do it! No, I won't do it!"

Harry glanced over his shoulder, tiredness in his eyes yet they never lost their light, "I feel sorry for him. He's still a monster, like he was then. No — he's worse now. The kid back then still had a good heart. I forgave him. I don't have much time left. I don't want to spend the remainder of my life hating someone. I wish that the feeling before I die won't be that horrible. That's why I'm forgiving him."

Hermione collapsed on the heaps of crumbling walls, "You shouldn't do this…because Harry Potter must live. Because you're the light that must shine for the people who live in darkness. They wouldn't want that light to go out. You said there were too many people living in agony that you had so many things to do. Don't go to the execution. You mustn't go."

"Hermione," Harry smiled for the last time, "No matter how scared you are, you have to accomplish it if you want to. The one who endures and gets past everything is the coolest person in the world."

As they walked out of their hiding place, Hermione's arm stretched and her fingers spread wide as if wishing to grasp them – to stop them – from leaving.

The fear that she might face a truth she can't handle. Maybe… she was more afraid of the choice she would have to make after knowing the truth.

Hermione remembered asking Professor Dumbledore a quite a question at a mere tender age of twelve most children would not fathom:

She had asked, "In real life, what do you do if you meet an opponent stronger than you?"

He answered with shrewd wisdom, "Compared to fighting, running away is the best method."

But Hermione was not satisfied with such cowardice answer and asked again, "What should you do if you can't run away."

With an impressed smile, he looked at her with those twinkle eyes, "If fighting and running away won't help, then surrender is the best way. Comply with the opponent and give what they want, beg for your life to be spared and stay alive more than anything else. In reality, that's the best and last self-protection method."

Hermione frowned, not liking this answer, "If you don't want to run away or surrender, then what would you do? If you fight until you don't have any energy left, is there no other way?"

He told her with finality, "There is no other way out except risking your life. Violence towards weaker ones starts from cowardliness. A cowardice that says I'm going to bully him since he's weaker than I am. When left with no choice, one should attack that cowardice but the weaker one has no choice except risking his life. However as not many people have that courage, then running away or surrender is the wisest thing to do. But while you still can fight it, fighting is all you need to do. And when you no longer can, protecting it you must. When you no longer can protect it, retreat is all it takes. When retreat is not an option, surrender is your next best decision. Should even surrender proved impossible, on that day, demise shall be your best compeer. When the drumsof war cry, lawbecomes silent. Life is a battleground. Young one, you will understand what I mean, when you grow older."

The sacrifice made by my friends and family today… I will never forget it. Hermione promised.

Hermione and Ginny, their hands intertwined like tight vines, ran and ran across the stone bridge, deflecting the hexes and jinxes thrown at them, ignoring the slurs of vulgarity directed toward them; they were far too used to those terms to make them stop in their tracks to see who they were pointing at.

"Hermione, where are we going?!" Ginny panted, slightly falling behind in fatigue. All movements has become painful due to atrophy.

"Just follow me!" Hermione ventured, pulling Ginny with strength she could muster. She was at her limit too, she was exhausted to death but they can't stop now. Her legs don't hurt. They bleed, but they don't hurt. Why, she doesn't know. It's just…her heart is soaring to the edge of the sky. She can even reach the moon.

"If you refuse, you'll be killed. If you fail, you'll be killed. If you run away, you'll be killed so just do as I say!"

This seemed to be the slight push Ginny needed and soon their pace was on par but soon they came to dangerously close to dangling off the edge of the cliff, coming face to face with the Dark Lord who took no hurry to approach them.

He tutted disapprovingly at their futile effort, "Potter's mudblood and blood-traitor at one place..that makes it easier is it not?"

"We haven't lost the war." Ginny retorted, "Even if Harry's dead, his courage is with us."

The Dark Lord made an expression of disgust; lip frowned downward with disapproval, "For a sentiment that will disappear in a few years, you'll gamble away your life? What can you protect, if your only weapon is your emotions?"

There was a bitter look on Hermione's face that was never there before as she unleashes the diatribe, "Those words…I'll make you regret it. No victory lasts forever. The war can be started again by those who seek victory. It may appear reckless. One layer of an egg's shell, cast against a stone will surely break. But no matter how strong a stone, it is dead. And no matter how weak an egg, it is alive. When time passes a stone will crumble into dirt. But someday there is a chick who will hatch from that egg and walk upon that dirt. The day will come when your murderous tyranny and oppression cannot defeat that egg."

The start of a storm came but to confront that storm in order not to lose the people important to us. Something like that is not easy at all. But on that day I wished from the bottom of my heart 'I want to be stronger' and now in this storm that draws closer if the time in where I can test that comes I will avert my eyes and I will gaze at the centre of the storm. I won't run away—

Hermione stared into Ginny's eyes, nodding. Ginny smiled in encouragement, following it with her nod as they tightened their hold onto each other.

Voldemort's face morphed into pure rage and confusion at their futile rebellion before letting out an angry roar, he pointed his wand and casted those words of death, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Grabbing the time-turner, they jumped, avoiding the dark green light emitting from the tip of the blood-drenched wand just barely.

While you still can fight it, fighting is all you need to do. And when you no longer can, protecting it you must. When you no longer can protect it, retreat is all it takes. When retreat is not an option, surrender is your next best decision. Should even surrender proved impossible, on that day, demise shall be your best compeer.

But not today.


Late November, 1938.

The young first year students was not at all prepared for what they were about to encounter in few seconds. Some had their heads bowed in boredom or apparent slumber, most seem to block out the sound of their Transfiguration professor's lesson to stare in blank space with more interest, few whispered under their breathe to their friends nearby, but rare number —young 11-year old Tom Riddle included — was absolutely absorbed with the knowledge they were fed. Tom, in particular, drank it with greedy glint in his eyes that was a fearful feature to be in a child.

CRACK!

If half of the class was sleeping, they were more than awake now at the thunderous sound that seemed to resonate through the castle with its shocking frequency. The students jumped, fear slowly creeping into their heart for they knew what lurks in the castle was something not even most of their professors has yet to discover all.

The girls huddled together in groups for they still believed in the proverb, 'power in numbers' and boys looked expectedly to their professors with concealed fear to uphold their 'manly' image. Dumbledore had long stopped his lesson, slowly approaching the closed door. But nothing could prepare him for what he were about to discover when he peeked outside.

On the cold stone floor, laid two young girls, one face down while other faced the side, seemingly same age as his students yet so different from what they should be. Their whole forms looked as if they went through months and months of ill-treatments…or war times.

Their robes were far too big for their already malnourished forms, cuts and bruises at different stages marred their skin, dark circles prominent under their closed eyes and dirt clung to them like second skin as if they had no time to change or wash themselves for several months now. He saw in their pale, intertwined hands were wands, tightened as if it were their lifeline.

Children won't be children if they were not full of curiosity after-all. All of his students were now crowded at the small open space of the door yet never stepping out of its zone, all tried to observe at the ruckus through means of standing on their tip-toes or using someone's shoulder as a ledge to hover yet they did not step out of the room for they did not wish to be deducted points or even detention for putting themselves in potential danger when they step out of the classroom. Dumbledore made sure his body hid the two girls from the prying eyes of his students. The ones that managed to catch a quick glance elicited gasps and murmurs.

The girls, in particular, scrunched their noses at the vulgar smells weft up to their nose, staring at her professor's back where the two girls were like one would look at an insect.

"Who are they?"

"Why…do they look like that?"

"Disgusting…"

"…filthy…"

"Are they…dead?!"

"Child…" Albus called, kneeling down to feel their pulse.

Only one child stepped outside without a fear.

"Shall I call for Madame Howard, Sir?" Tom asked kindly, playing the so-called helpful model student's role as he approached them. Of course, this was just to see what all the noise was about close up without looking so desperate.

"Yes please, Tom. Quickly, if possible." The young orphan veered to the hall but did so in a way he could take a brief glimpse – an act it did not went unnoticed by Dumbledore who shifted his body so that his heavy robe would drape over them, providing coverage. Discerning the man's purposeful movement, corner of Riddle's full lip twitched in contempt before dissipating into the darkness.

Dumbledore turned the bushy haired girl over and his breath chocked in his throat at the weal, eyes widening in horror as he read the lesions. It took him a little while to notice the shattered golden pieces of necklace beneath her body and a jiff to realise what it was.

He saw the eyes moving underneath her lid as the light streamed down on them; opening them she came to see a familiar face with its twinkly eyes.

"P-Professor?" Her voice cracked dryly, her arm stretched toward him ruefully, "…Am…Am I dead…?"

"No child," He said, "You're not dead."

Her reaction to his answer disconcerted him when the skin surrounding her eyes wrinkled as if she were in pain. Before he could ask why, she lost consciousness, leaving Dumbledore to ponder the reason for familiarity in the way of her addressing and her response to her vitality.

"Albus, Tom told me–!" Madame Howard gasped, hands clamped over her mouth in horror, "What happened?!"

Her medic instinct took over and slid in aid next to the two girls, quelling her unprofessional sentimentality. Her trained eyes scrutinised for the wounds on both of the girls but it was the brown haired girl that had the worst wound. Even in her years of experiences, she couldn't contain the fear creeping up to her when she read the pink, waxy scars.

"This is no ordinary scars…" Madam Howard shook her head in disbelief, hissing sotto voce "It's torture marks!"

"Tom, please get back into the room like everyone else."

Tom hesitated to answer but only for a second most would not notice, Dumbledore did.

"Yes, sir."

Madam Howard took off her healer's robe, veiling the brown haired girl's scar from others. She took out her wand and casted a hovering spells, ushering them to the hospital wing. Dumbledore sneakily gathered up the shards and hid it in his robe.


"I am not prepped for this. These girls need to be transferred to St. Mungo's, those are dark magic – some I've not heard of!"

Dumbledore regarded the two girls before heeding the medic's advice, "Transfer them please."


A week have passed since the two girls were moved to St Mungo's and had finally received a letter from the hospital the girls have woken up just this early morning. Later that afternoon, Dippet and Dumbledore had travelled there, arriving at the fourth floor where they were led to the Janus Thickey ward where those with cognitive trauma was kept.

The healer in-charged of looking after them was Grace Strout, a motherly-looking healer who as she led them through explained the girls' state.

"We kept them sequestered from each other – it was for the best interest to the patients. They've yet to tell me what had happened but one girl, Ginny Targaryen, who woke up first, says another girl's name is Hermione Granger. But once Hermione woke up she was discombobulate and bellicose toward the staff at the absent of Ginny, we had to restrain her until she calmed down; she managed to injure four of our staff! Without a doubt, these girls are severely traumatised…whatever they've been through, the damage is permanently done. I believe Ginny will be able to recover, she's hale and hearty and stable but I'm not sure about Hermione. She's neurotic, despondent and baleful; it puzzles us why she flinches every time her name is called..I believe she has received the worse... when you see her, try not to stare."

"What do you mean?" Dippet, who was unaware of the scars, asked to elaborate.

Grace eyed both professors, stopping in front of the closed door that read Hermione Granger. She took out her wand and with the sound of lock unlocking; she slid the door and sidled to make way, "See for yourself."

The two wizards stepped in and were met by an eerie sight. The healer entered after, to be on standby should unpredictable behaviour occur. The room was painted in plain white and vacant except for table and chair and in-room bathroom. On the small bed sat a small figure cloaked in white sheet, covering her whole form.

"Hermione, you have a visitor." The healer announced and it reminded Dumbledore of his memory of meeting Tom for the first time.

"Hermione?" Dumbledore called but the girl under the white sheet remained silent. He knew she was looking at them.

"Can you hear us?" Dippet asked.

The girl sat ensconced under the cover without a noise.

"She wouldn't speak; she wouldn't eat; she would not move…I am afraid you won't get much out of her…Professor Dippet perhaps we can speak to Ginny?"

At the sound of another girl's name, Dumbledore noticed a slight upturning movement of her head but soon posit back to stare at the wall behind him.

"I shall stay here." Dumbledore said.

"But–"

"Please, allow me."

"She can be violent–"

"Then I shall call out for the staff for help." Dumbledore insisted.

Dippet nodded his head to Grace, asking for silent approval something the healer relented soon. The two stepped out, leaving Dumbledore and Hermione alone. There was more movements underneath those blanket, a thought that she had been waiting for a moment alone with him crossed his mind.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked.

She nodded.

"Won't you let me see you?"

She shook her head but for the first time, her pusillanimous voice answered him, "But I can show you."

He frowned until she articulated her reply, "Look into my head."

She felt the tugging of incoming invasion and allowed him to enter; baring herself exposed and open to allow him to explore her mind without hindering, laying all her sins bare.

Receiving her first Hogwart letter, her years throughout the magical world then abyss.

"Oh…what have you done…?" She could hear the despair in his voice as one memory reached him.

"KYAAAAHHHHH!" The heart piercing screeches gripped Dumbledore's heart with tremendous anguish.

Bellatrix's childish giggle rang in the air like chime of a bell before her disposition turned into rage, "A filthy mudblood like you DARE TO SAY HIS NAME! CRUCIO!" "KAAAAHHHHH!" The older Hermione let out another scream; tears flowing over her bloodied cheeks as her arm bled with the child-like writing 'mudblood' scarred every inch of her skin repeatedly.

Scattered on the floor were all sorts of magical creatures like unicorns, house elves, centaurs, giants, and there was her dead parents, friends and families alike and hovering over the air were dementors, feeding on her happiest memories like leeches sipping her blood till dry. Bellatrix bent down to grab Hermione's' scalp as she whimpered in pain, "An insect lesser than dirt, things like you shouldn't even exist."

Then she turned her attention to her parent, prodding it with her foot and wiped her shoes on Hermione's mother as if she stepped on shit, "A human being, you say? Where? These corpses you mean?"

Hermione cried out, "You killed them! You're the one who killed my parent! I'll kill you myself!"

A smile faded away from the crazed witch's lip, landing a kick to Hermione's' abdomen, pushing the air out of her lung roughly. Drool spattered onto the floor.

"HOW DARE YOU EVEN SPEAK TO ME?! THE GREAT DESCEDENT OF THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK?! ABOMINATION, FILTH! SCUME! BY-PRODUCTS OF DIRT AND VILENESS!"

"Who killed them…why they are tormenting me…" Hermione said hoarsely, "I'll give back as much as I received. I'll honour them by finishing their work. Vengeance against the men who killed them is simply a reward for my patience. You see," Hermione laughed as Bellatrix's face twisted into something of pure madness and rage, "It's the slow knife...the knife that takes its time. The knife...that waits years without forgetting...then slips quietly between the bones. That's the knife...that cuts deepest! I'LL KILL ALL YOU PUREBLOODS! I'LL KILL YOUR CHILDREN AND THEIR CHILDREN'S CHILDREN UNTIL THE WORD 'PUREBLOOD' IS EXTINCT WITH YOUR PRIDEFUL BLOODS! UNTIL THERE'S NOTHING LEFT OF IT MAGICAL WORLD!"

"AVADA—!"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

Ginny burst into the room, throwing every spells she knew as Bellatrix nonverbally deflected them with ease. Hermione, left momentarily forgotten by the duo, twisted over to crawl toward…a unicorn.

Dumbledore had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark floor.

When Hermione reached the unicorn, she lowered her head over the silvery blood pooled in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.

In shock, he withdrew from her head and heavy silence hung over them.

"Hermione Granger…" She could feel the tremor in his voice "Is it true you have consumed a unicorn blood?"

"Yes.." Admitted Hermione, "Yes, I have."

Dumbledore's breath hitched. He felt sick.

"H-have you slaughtered it?"

He didn't see her killing it but he needed confirmation.

She shook her head.

"Why did you consume them?"

"Because I was dying."

"What have you done!" Dumbledore hissed, rising to his feet, "Do you even know the consequences of your acts?!"

"I had nothing to lose!" Hermione couldn't help but say and she feels the hollowness of her mask cracking, "And everything to gain. If it weren't for the blood, I wouldn't have even made it this far." In spite of anger, she pulls the sheet over her head and revealed the ugly scars that defaced her.

The healers has done everything they could within their abilities to try to heal it but they could only remodel it from thick, red, raised scar to a thin, flat, white scar but some were raised due to the irregularity of the scar thickness. It was obvious whoever hurt her was mentally unstable.

"I could feel it. The pain of having a soul ripped apart…it's not something anyone would forget. I know I'm cursed, I knew I'll lead half a life from the moment I put the blood on my lip regardless whether I slaughtered the unicorn or not. I did it to save my own self for selfish reason. That's more than enough. All I wanted to be was to be happy. Even if I had a choice, I'll take it again." The determination in her eyes unnerved him and he wasn't sure whether this was the effect of unicorn blood or emotional changes as the result of the war.

"..Harry sent you here to save…Tom…" He said but he was also made aware of the uncertainty with her declaration to the deranged witch who promised of annihilation of the Purebloods, "Are you...?"

"Keep it a secret." She avoided his question, eyes darted to the door, hearing it slide open.

"How is it– oh."

"I want to attend Hogwart." Was Hermione's request.

"How did you?" Grace stared at Dumbledore in incredulity. Dippet gaped at Hermione before remembering Grace's prior warning; he cleared his throat and stared at the wall above her.

"A simple patience and kindness was all it needed to have her speak again." He gave her a small smile, "She said her and Ginny's parent was killed by… Grindelwald. They were family friends who unfortunately was taken and tortured by his followers but escaped with the help of a wizard who sacrificed his life to send them to Hogwart where they can hide and be protected."

"But how did that wizard managed to penetrate the wards? He must have been very powerful." Dippet muttered in disbelief.

"But you are not healed properly!" Grace disagreed.

Hermione stood up, "I want my things and Ginny's."

"Hermione, I cannot–"

"I'm fine, Healer Grace." She said, "I can recover in Hogwart, thank you for everything and I'm sorry I hurt some of the healers." Hermione knew those answers would at least play part in convincing her she was 'stable'.

"If you don't mind, Armando, then may I take the guardianship of these two girls?"

"Albus?" Dippet was puzzled by his colleague's sudden interest in the well-being in them seeing refugees running away from Grindelwald arrive often. He was aware of Dumbledore's past acquaintanceship with the dark wizard but only to the extent Dumbledore let him be privy of and would often take extra interest in anything that was remotely related to him but this was the first time he had actively taken stand on his interest.

"I trust you, Albus that you will to the best of your ability look after them." Dippet decided to put his faith in his friend.

Grace shook her head, knowing with these two's influences she cannot do one thing to change their mind, "Fine! I shall release them under your care on one condition: that they shall come and stay at St Mungo's on weekends and for at least a week or more if deemed necessary with me every holiday until I am satisfied that these two have completely healed and stable for normal function within the society."

"Fine." Hermione quickly agreed, "Where are my things? And Ginny."

"I shall bring them out soon. Oh professors did I mentioned Hermione is quite well versed on wandless magic than I am comfortable with? Despite taking away her wand, she managed to seriously injure other healers. I don't know what or how someone has been teaching you some spells I have witnessed." She exited.

Now their attention was fixed on Hermione.


They disapparated to headmaster's office, Hermione's hand on Dumbledores' while Ginny's on Dippet' two wizards preferred a more gentler travelling option but the two girls simply wanted to go there faster hence apparition.

"I shall lead them to Madam Howard."

"Please do, Albus that would be helpful."


Madam Howard leaned in to Hermione, observing her scars, "Even they could not completely get rid of the scars…"

"It's not supposed to. She made sure of that." "Who was she?"

"Someone who had a knack for torture." Madam Howard knew she wouldn't get the answer she was looking for, not until she opens herself up which the healer suspect would take many years, perhaps never at all.

"I-I can try to hide it with a concealing charm." Madam Howard stepped back and pointed her wand toward Hermione who flinched in instinct.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." She reassured her.

She muttered a charm and watched her skin ripple into smooth looking texture, "This concealing charm only last for two days before you must cast it again. You can come to me or–"

"I can do it myself." Hermione said, sliding down the bed until Madam Howard's voice stopped her.

"You won't be going anywhere. At least for today."

"But you let Ginny go?" She frowned, shaking her leg as anxiety creeps through at their separation, "That is because Ginny's wounds are not as serious as yours'. I was given task to make sure you eat something." And to keep an extra eye on you, Madam Howard internally added.

"Madam Howard," A muffled voice came from behind the curtain.

The healer stood up and drew back the curtain slightly so that her taller form hid Hermione before the healer made a surprise noise. She then tugged the curtain to the end to reveal a boy, 11, dark eyes and dark hair with familiar classical good looks.

"Hello." He cheerfully greeted.

Hermione looked at him quietly, noting the tray of food in his hand.

The cold treatment of his acknowledgement – something he wasn't used to – caught him off guard but he quickly brushed it off as perceived shyness or introversion.

"Alphard? Why are you the one bringing the food? How did you know?"

"I met Ginny who told me about Hermione so I thought I can bring the food rather than the house elves."

The healer looked touch at his humble action, "Well, that is very modest of you, thank you."

"Can I introduce myself to her, Madam Howard?"

The healer stepped aside to allow the interaction, making friends would do nice to her, "Why of course, Alphard! You two will be alright, yes?" She made a haste exit but made sure she was not too far away.

Hermione icily stared at him and when their eyes met, she used the opportunity to invade his mind.

Alphard and his friends, including Tom, was just standing up from dining hall when he noticed ginger haired girl entering shyly. As others were still busy eating or chatting to their friends, none paid too much attention but the fact it was a new face who was not wearing the school uniform underneath her robe didn't escape his keen sight. They watched as she approached professor Dumbledore who motioned her to come closer and Dippet leaned in to join the conversation. Alphard saw the gentleness in the way professor Dumbledore regarded her as she slipped something to him in a form of small pouch when Dippet turned his attention to the professor next to him before walking back down.

"Alphard," He turned to face Tom, "She must be one of those girls that appeared few days ago."

His curiosity was piqued; it wasn't everyday two girls just magically appear with the sound of thunder.

"I think I'm going to introduce myself." He left his table to greet her.

"Hello, my name is Alphard Black."

He saw she slightly flinch when he walked up next to her, "B-Black?" There was a recognition in her eyes.

"Do you wish to sit down?" He gestured to the Slytherin table, "I don't want to keep a lady standing up."

Her eyes darted to and fro to professor Dumbledore and his group of friends, "Oh..um..I.."

From the corner of his eyes, he saw professor Dumbledore gave her a nod of permission and she straightened up, "S-sure, thank you."

"Are you alright now?" Alphard asked as she took seat at the end.

"Y-yes, I'm fine." She muttered, "I-I'm Ginny by the way..Ginny Targaryen…"

"Well this is Tom Riddle,"

"Hello," He greeted civilly.

"Abraxas Malfoy," He pointed to the boy with shoulder-length blond hair and cold grey-blue eyes, "Edmond Lestrange," he motioned to the boy with short curly dark hair, "Alfred Avery" A boy with blond hair and blue eyes, "Clarence Nott" the tall young boy with dark features nodded in her direction, "Alistair Rosier" a boy with jet black hair and green eyes, "Quintus Mulciber" a hazeled-eye boy with light ash brown hair, "And Antonin Dolohov" Ginny's eyes widened and her whole body started to shiver.

"Are you alright?" Alphard frowned worriedly.

"I-I'm fine, just cold that's all." Ginny said, "Well it was nice meeting you guys but I really have to get going. I need to get some food for my friend." She grabbed an empty plate and start to pile the food.

"You're not allowed to take food outside the dining hall."

"Well, professor Dumbledore made an exception."

"I'll take it!" Alphard quickly took the plate from Ginny's hand, "It'd be nice to see the girl who's been the talk for few days."

"B-But…" Ginny tried to intervene but before she could stop him, he took the plate and exited the hall.

The boy was here to satisfy his own curiosity and to gain something interesting of their appearance to deliver to his little group of friends.

Hermione stared at the food before taking the plate. She threw it in the bin.

"W-Why..?" Alphard ogled with widened eyes at her haughty action.

She closed the curtain, shutting him out. Hermione lay back down, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the boy to go away.

Never had he been treated by anyone like this.

"My name is Alphard Black." He said, hoping it would allow her to open up.

No answer.

"…Aren't you going to say something?"

No answer yet again.

He didn't know how to react to her aloofness.

"Hermione, be nice to Alphard." Madam Howard approached them, "He's just wishing to know you better."

"I'm a mudblood. Now go away."

The answer shocked the pair, such word was not something one would easily mutter – at least not publicly – and especially to refer themselves as.

"Hermione! We do not say those words!" She hissed vehemently.

"GO AWAY!" She screams. The nightstand beside the bed judder and objects clattered to the floor.

Madam Howard gently pried him away, "Come, Alphard, give her some space." She accompanied him to the entrance, warning, "Alphard, she had went through very horrible things…things young boys and girls like you should not have experienced…try to understand."

Alphard tilted his head up, slight fear in his eyes, "What had happened to her?"

"Some very bad things. That's all you should know. Just understand she will act…differently from others."

He nodded.

Madam Howard, briefly looking up over her shoulder toward the pulled curtains before making her observation in the files:

Hermione Granger

Birth date: 19th September, 1926

Gender: Female

Comments:

Mood swings – uses magic when angry

Refusal to eat or drink

On-guard continuously

Lugubrious


Alphard barely managed to arrive for his next class, absentmindedly sitting down, his eyes still dazed from the previous interactions.

"So?" Tom muttered, flicking through the textbook he read and studied hundred times before.

"Um.." Alphard struggled to start, "She doesn't really reveal anything about herself."

"Well what did she reveal?" Abraxas huffily asked.

"Well, she's muggle-born," Alphard started, "But it's weird..she called herself mudblood. Rather strange, isn't it?"

"At least she knows her place right, Tom?" Avery said.

Tom shrugged.

"And..she's weird."

"Weird?" Lestrange frowned.

"Madam Howard said that she'll act differently from others."

"Why?" Abraxas raised a brow.

"I don't–"

"Alphard Black! Detention!" Professor Merrythought huffed in irritation, "If you don't have a good mark in Defense against the Dark Arts, you should at least make an effort to focus!"

Alphard groaned, burying his head in his arm, "I already have two!"

The gang snorted with laughter, Tom slightly chuckling before focusing on the lesson once more.


"Hermione, I got us uniforms." Ginny gently drew back the curtains, frowning when she saw her curled up with wand tight in her hands.

"Hermione.." She gently called, slowly lifting her hand to touch her wand, "Hermione…don't you want to lie down?"

She shook her head.

The Weasley witch's frown deepened, crease lines visible on her forehead. Her erratic behaviours troubled her; she wasn't the same after rescuing her from Bellatrix's clutches.

Just what did that…witch done to you?!

"Hermione, put down the wand…you're safe." Ginny pried the wand from her sweaty hands from holding it so tight, "It's alright." Ginny wondered if Hermione was fine to attend lessons like other students, seeing how much she was on edge.

Her eyes soon landed on the discarded plate, cracked in two and uneaten food inside, "You didn't eat."

"I didn't want to."

"But you have to!"

"I'm not hungry."

"You're going to eat, whether you like it or not. Loly."

A house-elf appeared, "Yes, Miss?"

"Please get us some soup and bread roll please."

"Of course, Miss." With that, the house-elf disappeared before soon returning with the plate of warm food.

"Here you go, Miss. Is there anything else?"

"No, thank you, Loly."

"Please call me if you need me." She said enthusiastically before disappearing once again.

Ginny dipped the spoon sideways into the soup at the near edge of the bowl, skimming from the front of the bowl to the back and brought it up to her lip. Hermione turned her head to the side stubbornly, forcing Ginny to grip her chin to still and opening her mouth by pushing her two fingers into her cheek. Hermione shook her head, the spoon clanging on the floor.

"Even though you don't have the appetite, you should eat to regain your strength!"

Hermione plopped back onto the bed, bringing the cover up to her head, "I'm not going to eat. Please leave me alone."

Ginny sighed in defeat.


Having been unassigned to the Houses, the two had to spend the night in the infirmary and while Ginny, at first, had trouble trying to sleep, she managed to succumb into deep slumber near the dawn but Hermione was tossing and turning restlessly, painful memories flashing and voices echoing. Even if she covered her ears, she could still hear the mumbles in her head before she finally gave up trying to sleep.

I don't deserve to sleep anyway…how could I when others are fighting to stay alive. The voice whispered.

Hermione sneaked an arm under the pillow, feeling for the coolness of her wand and listening for any noises that deviated from normality.

That morning, they got up and dressed. The breakfast was served to them in the wing and Ginny was adamant that she watched the food go inside her mouth.

"I am telling you, if you don't start eating I'm going to send you back to St Mungo's!"

She wasn't hungry at all but she forced herself to eat, chewing as long as she could before swallowing the liquefied food. A bread and half bowl of soup and she were already full, leaving the regaled amount of food to waste.

"Slytherin, right?" Ginny confirmed as they headed toward the hall.

"Slytherin." Hermione confirmed, "Remember: do not stay in one place for too long. Do not own anything. Do not form any relationships. Don't trust anyone."

The Weasley witch nodded firmly.

Her hair was wild and bushy as it was in her first year (well, her physical body was technically that of her first year) and her teeth was too big for her mouth but she didn't care. She didn't need to give any attention to her appearance more than necessary when she knows her blood status alone would make her the target of the year. No amount of magic was going to change that.

The moment they entered the hall, all the eyes were them. Ginny and Hermione felt like the first time they entered the great hall, its beauty never fails to bring awe but somehow there was certain element of numbness to it because it also reminded them what had happened here.

Finding bodies there and there, Hermione could exactly locate those places even now.

The land used to be a peaceful place covered in green fields. Now there is only dry, immense desert...I want to bring the green back...

Hermione stopped when she saw the familiar red colours sticking out of the Gryffindor table like a sore thumb and a boy sitting next to them. Ron's and Harry's ancestors. Ginny noticed Hermione's sudden halt and followed the direction of her stare, freezing at the sight of her own bloodline.

Tears threatened to fall when Hermione's eyes landed on the young professor McGonagall, happily chatting away as if she had no cares in the world. She, unlike her future self, did not possess the strict-looking demeanour.

Ginny's lip opened to yell out something, quickly clamping her mouth shut before she blurted out anything that might cause confusion amongst them. The students looked at them weirdly when they were not moving for a good few minutes staring at particular group as if a mother found her lost child.

Noticing the silence and odd stares, the two quickly stepped toward the front where a stool laid, awaiting.

Hermione was the first to sit on the chair as the sorting hat was place upon her head but not before exchanging brief glance with professor Dumbledore. They had yet to discuss about the things he saw in the pensieve.

"Hmm.." The sorting hat pondered, "Interesting…well, disappointing is the word. You've certainly mellowed out... you used to be fun, full of life and emotion. Lust, Greed, Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Wrath, and Pride. Of course, excessive want will destroy anyone, but those same desires are necessary to understand what it means to be human. Why did you rid yourself of them?"

Hermione didn't reply.

"Oh…so you came to do that..." He chuckled as he delve deeper into her head, "And being sorted into Slytherin makes it easier…oh well, it's certainly against my conscience but I, too, believe in greater good. SLYTHERIN!"

There was a hushed murmur in the Slytherin section, before sound of disgust erupted amongst the students. Their house proud for having only Purebloods and in rare cases, Half-blood, but a mudblood?! Immediately, few students voiced out their disagreements, stating that the hat has lost its mind.

Hermione's eyes didn't waver, eyes glaring at the whole in killing intents. It was clear to those sharp enough to realise she was the one looking down upon them as a superior being, not them. She stepped down, marching toward the Slytherin table with her head held high.

Hermione saw Alphard waving and pointing to the empty two seats next to him; undoubtedly he somehow guessed she and Ginny would be sorted into Slytherin. Ginny was sorted in Slytherin soon after, taking seat next to Alphard much to Malfoy's dismay of her status as blood traitor. Nothing was worse than betraying your own kind, she guessed.

"Nice to see you again, you look good." Alphard commented, seemingly forgotten of their altercation prior before but there was still uneasiness in the way he treated her, "You look…better? Anyway, let me introduce you to my friends..."

"I know who they are." Hermione interrupted.

Alphard raised one of his aristocratic brow in amusement, "You do?"

"Ginny told me."

"Oh."

"Well then, you should be very aware of your place right, Mudblood?" Lestrange smirked, searching for reaction but to his boredom, there was none.

Tom's eyes narrowed slightly, for some reason he knew she was lying. He didn't know how, but he knew she told no truth. And he didn't like her. Not at all.

He could see the unhidden malice in her eyes, full of complexity that hinted there was more to her than she was telling. He knew that because that's how he saw others as well only he was unaware of its extent and depth.

The dinner was a tense situation; everyone busy eating while glaring daggers at Hermione as she sat motionlessly, eyes glazed with thoughts as the plate of food placed in front of her became colder despite Ginny's urge for her to eat something.

Hermione wasn't listening to her, eyes darting back and forth the hall as if she was waiting for something to burst out. Her hand was positioned in a way that one swish movement and she'd have her wand pointed at the target and shoulders compact to take as little space as possible.

Something glistened and her eyes were already on the source, Lestrange held a meat knife but she didn't see the fork in other. She only saw the knife drawing closer toward her but it was to pick up the food on the platter in the centre. Closer and closer and Hermione shoot to her feet, startling those around her and Lestrange dropped the food he was holding between his cutleries at the sudden movement.

Her body ached all over again, like reopened scars and she swear she can feel the blood trailing down her arms. Yelp escaped her, bringing everyone's attention on her and she scramble away from the table, rubbing her arms that was bloodied in her eyes and saw the scars re-emerge through it; Ginny put down her gold silverware chasing Hermione's fleeing form.

It wasn't until she escaped to considerable amount of distance away from the hall did her knees gave out and collapsed against wall, cleaning away the blood with her sleeves.

"Hermione what's wrong?!"

Hermione continuously rubbed her skin furiously, "My scars! It's bleeding!"

Ginny frowned because she can only see clean, flawless skin in place where Hermione said was bleeding.

"Hermione it's not bleeding!"

"I-it is! The c-charm didn't work, Ginny! Oh no t-the s-scars!"

Ginny kneeled down and gripped Hermione's shoulder, giving it a few shakes.

"Hermione, there is NO SCARS!"

Hermione blinked, looking at Ginny before looking down at her arms again, unblemished and spotless.

"B-But I-I swear…"

Ginny wordlessly hugged her, "It's alright, it's alright, it's alright."

Just what happened to you during those two days?!

A tear slipped past Ginny's eye, Bellatrix was infamous for having proclivity of driving her victims insane. Just like Neville's parent and she wondered if they were too late when they rescued her, that the day she saw Hermione lying on heaps of dead bodies, she too, had died long time ago with them and the Hermione she brought out of that room wasn't the same person she have known for many years.

"Ginny, I did see it." Hermione meekly said.

"I know…I know you did…"


"They say you're crazy, is that true?" Annette Greengrass with her deceivingly innocent wide green eyes and long, soft-looking platinum blonde hair, intoned nonchalantly. Hermione's little fiasco in the dining hall had the students talking.

Hermione ignored her and continued on making her bed next to Ginny.

"Hello, mudblood, I am talking to you."

"Annette, leave those animals be. What do you expect?" One of her friend rested her hand on the witch's shoulder, "It is better to leave the insane lest they do something crazy."

"Well, if I'm going to be sharing the room, where we do several vulnerable activities like sleep if I may add, I want to know that she isn't crazy enough to kill us in our sleep. Isn't that right everyone?"

Most of the girls voiced out their 'yes' but those few who didn't were either blasé to her little dramas, disinterested in Hermione or everything in general or their hatred to Annette were more slight than their hatred for mudblood.

"Stop it." Ginny firmly said, "It's late, we need to sleep."

Annette ignored the blood-traitor, "We will sleep as soon as we clarify the situation we have here."

Hermione shoulders slumped in exasperation, "I don't know."

"What?"

"I said I don't know so I don't know what I'm capable of right now so leave me be." Hermione dropped into the bed and wanded her curtains closed.

Hermione didn't even have to look to know Annette's face would be heaving red with anger but everyone was too tired to deal with this, persuading her to avenge the next morning.

The moon was high in the air and everyone was in deep slumber, ignorant of the dark side of the world. Frail form stepped out of her curtained bed, sheets in hand, she head to the bathroom where there equal numbers of shower stalls and tubs in accordance to the students' number was. She spread her sheet into the bathtub that was at the farthest end of the corner and put her pillow at the end. She climbed into it and even though it was quite narrow and small, it was big enough to accommodate her size. Wand in her hand, absolute exhaustion waved over her and for the first time she fell in deep slumber.


"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." — Confucius


A/N: I hope you noticed the Games of Thrones reference! Oh and for the story sake, I'm disregarding the 1930s-40s manners expected such as segregation between interactions of opposite genders and 'feminine' subjects taught for females (e.g sewing) etc. However, I'll show the expectations expected for females during those times through other characters and touch on it as much as I could. If there's anything amiss in the story regarding the timeline, do forgive me.

Also, no young lady or older woman would be addressed as Ms., as that form of address would only gain popularity in the 1970s. Furthermore, it appears as if it is still not in use in the Wizarding World.