London, 1598 (XVI)

"Wake up, girl. I am very busy, and so is Mr. Dumbledore."

Umbridge, the Castle's housekeeper, started to open the curtains in her bedroom. The room was a large, richly decorated one. There were famous paintings hanging on the rock walls, intricate tapestry covering every inch of the cold floor, and expensive furniture made of the best wood in the kingdom. Just the best for the King.

The bright light of the sun reached the sleepy girl laying in the wide bed and hurt her eyes as the other left the room closing the door heavily, mumbling about how the girl should be under her boots.

Hermione didn't mind to be awakened like this every day, as long as she had a warm bed to sleep in and food on her plate. She knew to be glad and considered herself lucky. Most people like her were dying out on the streets from cold and starvation.

She pushed the silk sheet aside, leaving the bed and going straight away to her cabinet to look for something to wear. Looking at her clothing doubly, she tried to remember how the world used to be like before Grindelwald took power. She was only 4 years old then, but she had already shown traces of her magical ability. But something that was supposed to be a beautiful gift soon turned into something to be afraid of and hidden from other people.

Mud should be under the Pure's boots.

Made up by Grindewald himself, the saying was what lead the kingdom these days, where being a Pureblood meant you were free and rich, and being a muggleborn meant you were dirty and worthless.

Hermione decided for a red plain dress, beautiful but hardly dressy. She tried to remember the moment when she was picked up from the ashes of her childhood home, which was all that was left after it burned down causing her parents death. She survived thanks to her magic, which somehow created a protective bubble around her. She was 5 years old.

Albus Dumbledore, the brilliant wizard who had saved her, turned her into his apprentice even after Grindelwald had said she should be dead. Fourteen years had passed by since then, but the King still hated her.

Hermione looked herself in the golden mirror that was inside her cabinet, as she pressed her vine wand tightly against her chest. Magic had been the only thing that made her happy as long as she could remember. Learning about it was one of her hobbies… Well, actually was the only hobby she had. Living in the Castle of the King, there wasn't free time to be spent with silly things such as hobbies if you were a simple Mudblood like her.

She left her room, locking the door carefully before walking down the corridors lost in her thoughts.

As her own bedroom, the rest of the King's Castle was too beautifully decorated. Huge windows would leave the light of the sun invade the place, and make the armors shine as it touched them. Important wizards and witches would give you advice as you walked by their frames. And not a single step would be given without something magical and impressive happening to you (as Peeves, the Poltergeist would always assure).

Hemione finally reached Dumbledore's room. He asked her to be there earlier, because he wanted to teach her a "new and very difficult spell, indeed". She knocked the door with more enthusiasm than she intended to, making the loud noise echo through the stone walls of the Castle.

Soon enough, Dumbledore's smiling face opened the door.

"Hello Hermione. I thought it was you, knocking this way. Come in, please. This is going to be a great class."

Hermione entered the old man's room, blushing slightly in embarrassment. She didn't mean to let Dumbledore know how excited she was for the class. With avid eyes, she looked around the rounded place for anything different from normal, but everything was still the same with his magical experiments and machines taking every desk and making their familiar noises.

"Please, do take a seat. You have already had breakfast, I assume? It is, after all, one of the most important meals of the day"

"Yes sir, I have had it already," she lied. The truth was that she overslept and had had no time to go to the kitchens and eat, but there was no need to let Dumbledore know that. She sat in a leather chair and Dumbledore took the sit next to hers.

"I see you're quiet today." he commented, looking amused. "Are there no questions about anything you've read?"

Remembering suddenly about something, Hermione twitched in her chair in order to face the other man fully.

"Oh yes, professor! I've read about a new found love potion, called Amortentia! Apparently, it has different smells to each person however…Well…" Her voice started to die. "We can leave those to another day, sir."

"Are you sure?" he asked, with a smile playing in the corners of his mouth. "I have many things to teach you today, however I can easily take some time to explain to you why Amortentia has the effects it has…" he completed, tilting his head and looking above his half-moon glasses.

"No." Her voice was nothing but firm. "It can wait, professor."

Dumbledore softly chuckled whilst he jumped to his feet, bringing his hands together and making a clapping sound.

"Yes Hermione, I must say I'm as excited as you are! Come here next to me. Yes, here. Now, can you read this page out loud?"

"Patronus Charm" Hermione started, furrowing her eyebrows. "It is used to create a shield against dementors, which are one of the foulest creatures to inhabit the world. It has the capacity to feed off the happiness of one's body, and even consume their soul.

"The Patronus Charm is a very powerful one, therefore is very hard to cast. It's necessary to choose the happiest memory the witch or wizard has, and then says the words Expecto Patronum. It's said that the memory itself takes form, and the dementor feeds in its light instead of the witch or wizard's body. The strongest Patronus can take form of an animal meaningful to the caster."

Hermione's voice died away and the silence grew in the room. She looked to Dumbledore's face with wide eyes and asked, "Is it what I am going to learn, sir? The Patronus Charm?"

He agreed, and she opened a wide smile. She's been expecting to learn that particular spell for so long, that she hardly could believe the time has finally arrived.

"Well, I think we should start now, shall we?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well" continued Dumbledore "As you've read, first of all you have to think about your happiest memory-"

"But what about the Dementor, professor? You didn't take a real one here, did you?" she interrupted, with suspicious eyes searching the room, expecting to see the aforementioned creature jumping out from any corner now.

"I… No. Not a real one. Even thought it would surely be interesting, would it not?" replied Dumbledore, laughing lightly. He was the only person in the entire world who'd find interesting to fight against a real dementor. "You have nothing to worry about the Dementor, my dear. I know exactly what to do, and it will not be dangerous to any of us. Now, back to the memory… You must choose one very carefully, because a weak memory can cause the death of the witch or wizard if they are faced with a real Dementor." His bright blue eyes watched her as if they could see right through her soul. Sometimes she thought they could.

Sighing heavily, she thought.

What was her happiest memory? It was a hard question. She could choose something related to her parents, if she at least remembered them, which she didn't. She could choose the first time Dumbledore had taught her magic, but Grindelwald had beaten her for it afterwards so it wasn't the best memory she had.

However, there was the night when her wand had chosen her. She had been so happy about having her own wand, that even when the King almost expulsed her from the Castle he wasn't able to take away her happiness because now she wasn't only a weak and poor mudblood. She had a wand which she neither had stolen nor borrowed; the wand had chosen her. It had meant she was a truly witch, and that all the things everyone always said to her weren't true at all. She wasn't dirty, or weak, or unworthy. She was a witch.

"I've got it." she said to Dumbledore, softly. Looking into her eyes, Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, I believe you have. Now, I ask you to move back a little bit. Yes, right there is very good. You see, Ms. Granger, I once had the opportunity to capture a dementor."

Hermione stared at him in shock. She knew that Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in their time, but to capture a dementor was something impossible. No one had ever managed to do such thing.

"I see you're surprised, as you should be!" said Dumbledore. "It was surprising to me as well and I was the one who got it! Well, I won't full you with the details, all you have to know is that I've been working on it, and now he's weaker than a normal dementor, so it's not as dangerous as it was previously. However I must warn you, it's not inoffensive. Are you truly ready to do this, Hermione?" he said, looking at her above his glasses.

She thought seriously about the question. Was she ready to do it? She was going to face one of the worst creatures on Earth, and all she had to defend herself was an old memory that she assumed was happy. However, she had to remember that she was being taught by Dumbledore, the best wizard of the time. She had to remember that she was an exceptional witch, who had never found a spell she could not learn. Suddenly feeling brave, she said, "Yes, I am."

With a reassuring smile, Dumbledore walked to an iron door at the bottom of the room, and opened it. She prepared herself. And the Dementor came.


"Oh, Tom, what a brilliant mind you have!" Bellatrix Lestrange exclaimed, grabbing his arm as if her life depended on it. Tom smiled politely to his fiancée, before untangling himself from her.

He had made an absolutely ordinary comment about the dangers of the new-found Amortentia potion, however Bellatrix acted like it was the most intelligent thing she'd ever heard. Pathetic. If the woman weren't so rich and her blood so pure, it would never cross his mind to marry her. However, Tom was in an age where it didn't dwell for a proper man to be single. And he needed money to achieve his plans. Bellatrix Lestrange and her odd obsession with him just made things easier. He could treat her in whatever way he wanted and she'd always come back willing for more. A perfect relationship!

"Sadly, Ms. Lestrange, I must go now. The King and I have some business to take care of. However, m'lady, I shall come back to you as soon as possible." Bellatrix blushed profusely, and giggled at him.

"Oh, I will wait for you to come back then, Lord Riddle. Now, now, I won't monopolize you. The King doesn't like to be kept waiting. Go, my love." She kissed him in the cheek, and he felt the urge to crucio her. How dare she touch him? Still he contained himself, simply smiling at her coldly and leaving her company as soon as possible.

While walking through the illuminated Castle's corridor, and avoiding Peeves at least three times, Tom left his mind wonder, a pleasure he didn't grant himself very often.

He was always surrounded by people such as slaves, artists, philosophers, purebloods… However, there was a feeling that never faded away: he couldn't find his place in the world, nor someone who fully understood him. Tom Riddle had a brilliant mind, he knew it and everyone else knew it as well. He hardly had stimulating conversations, and when he did it was with Dumbledore, and the old man hatred him. Besides him, there was no one else who could match his mind and fully understand his thoughts, and it bored Tom. He had followers, but no friends or people he admired. He thought he'd find his mates within the Pureblood's world, his for birth right, however he didn't. He was as alone as he always had been. However, he knew why such feelings of loneliness were always with him, and he would change it when the right time arrived.

Tom finally arrived at the King's room. Sighing briefly, he knocked on the heavy wood door.

"Oh, Tom, ma'boy. Please, come in. I've been waiting for you for so long I thought you would not come anymore!" said Grindelwald, enthusiastic. The King obviously liked Tom, though it was a one-sided feeling, since Tom despised the other. Grindelwald was weak, too caring, and a little blind when it came to choosing trustworthy people. Tom could easily kill the King at any time if he wanted.

He entered the room smiling like there was no better place to be right there and then, than in the King's companion.

Grindelwald was wearing a very unusual combination of clothing. Bright red pants were matching with a white shirt, and green silk robes completed the outfit. Tom, who often choose to wear dark suits and robes, asked himself who let the King walk around like this.

"I'm sorry I was late your Highness, Ms. Lestrange kept me with her for longer than I intended. Hope you didn't mind."

"Of course not, of course not. It's understandable you want to spend more time with a lovely woman than with this old man here." Grindelwald laughed out loud, and Tom followed him. If only the King knew that Bellatrix was everything but lovely.

"Well, I called you here for a reason, Tom. I want you to do a little favor for me." He said, walking to the door once again to make sure it was closed properly, so no one could over hear what he was about to say.

Tom, who was sitting in the opposite side, raised an eyebrow. He was already full of paintings to do. The whole Kingdom requested for his paintings, and since he never refused anything, he had a long list of commissions to work on. However, if the King wanted something, he'd have to take care of it.

"You mean a panting, sir? I thought you had said you didn't want any new ones at least until the end of the year…"

"No, I do not want a panting, though I must add that I've seen the last one you made, and it's astonishing!" he chuckled again. "I want to ask you something more serious. It's about a certain lady who is giving me a little bit of… trouble."

Tom, for the first time, could not imagine what the other was going to ask him. As far as he knew, Grindelwald agreed with his marriage with Bellatrix, so the "certain lady" could not be her. And it was a known fact that Grindelwald did not look for a Queen, so it wasn't a problem with seducing a lady as well. So who was this woman, and how was she causing trouble to the King?

"Well, sir, I'm here to help you. Whatever you want me to do, I shall do."

"This is why I like you so, Tom!" Grindelwald said with a bright smile, sitting next to him and tapping Tom's back lightly. "See, I need you to follow a lady. Actually, call her lady is, to me, profaning the very sense of the word, however, this is how the world would call her…" he said, his voice dying in the end while he shacked his head slightly. "She's Dumbledore's apprentice, a mudblood girl!"

Tom didn't have to hear the rest. He himself had never liked that mudblood very much. A shame to the wizarding world living in the Castle, like one of them, wasn't right. Even worse, she was being versed in magic by Dumbledore himself. However, Tom never did anything against the girl, mostly because she took the care to not cross his way. Well, Tom thought with a grin, she must be a smart girl.

"- think she must be plotting against me, Tom, and that's why I want you to follow her and see where her loyalty lays. Would you do it?"

"Yes, I would, sir. I would find a great pleasure in helping the Kingdom to end all its traitors. You can count on me, your Highness." Tom said, softly, and Grindelwald smiled.

"I knew I could trust you, smart boy. One day, Lord Riddle will be a name as important as mine."

"I hope so, sir." He replied with a smile, although he didn't agree with the King. Tom wasn't going be as great as the king. He'd be greater. And soon.


"I think that is all for today, Hermione. It was quite an impressive class, wasn't it?" Dumbledore said, looking proudly at Hermione. She smiled and nodded.

The girl had managed to defeat the dementor on her first try, surprising even herself. She'd defeated it three times more afterwards with no problems. The only thing that troubled her was the fact that her patronus hadn't taken any form yet. Well, she'd have a lot of time to accomplish it; all she needed was patience and practice.

"It was the best lesson I've ever had, professor. Thank you." Hermione said, the smile never leaving her face.

"You're welcome, miss. I must say you always light up my day with your desire to learn. The world needs more young people like you. You are, truly, the brightest witch of your age." Hermione thanked him once more, this time blinking away tears. She couldn't believe Dumbledore had just said she was bright. It was the best compliment she'd ever received.

"I s-shall go. You surely have things to work on, Professor. I know I do." She said, laughing while cleaning up her eyes quietly. Saying good bye and thanking him profusely, she left the room.

Deciding she could use a breakfast now, she walked down to the kitchens, passing her class over again in her mind.

The happiest memory you can remember.

She walked along the large and dark corridor. The torches were oddly extinguished. Maybe the wind was the one to blame. Maybe Peeves. Probably Peeves.

Let the memory fill you.

She turned left by the Founders Paintings by T.M.R. She could hear Hufflepuff singing and Slytherin and Gryffindor in an arguing.

Shake the wand lightly twice.

She kept walking and turned right in the first entrance.

Say the incantation: Expectum Patronum.

She ran into something warm and soft that wasn't supposed to be there.

"Well, if it isn't the most lovely mudblood in the entire Kingdom!" said a baritone voice. A voice, she knew, that belonged to Tom Riddle.

The boy was the worst type of pureblood she knew. Always willing to please the King and believing in those stupid theories about how muggleborns had less brain activity than Purebloods, Tom Riddle was the epitome of everything that was wrong in the kingdom. However she couldn't say it to him. What a pity, thought. She would love to see his face when she started to point out all his flaws instead of licking his boots like the entire world seemed to do.

"I'm sorry, Lord Riddle." She said, avoiding his eyes. "I should have seen you there, my Lord. It was my fault."

"Of course it was! No one is saying otherwise." He said, and she could hear to the amusement in his tone.

"Yes, you are right, sir. I'm sorry. Excuse me, my Lord, I must go." She tried to leave the place as fast as she could, but he grabbed her arm tightly and turned her to face him once again.

"Unfortunately, I cannot do that, Ms… Granger, am I wrong?"

"No, I am Ms. Granger." She answered in a weak, low voice, yet not meeting his eyes. Oh, if only she could hex him! However, if she tried that, she'd be dead in a heartbeat. She knew Riddle's fame.

"You know, Ms. Granger, I do not like it when people talk to me without looking at my eyes. I think it's disrespectful, don't you agree?"

He kept grabbing her arm tightly. Sighing heavily and looking directly at his eyes, she said:

"I'm sorry, Lord Riddle. You're right, as always."

He has nice eyes, she thought. Grey, deep, and smart eyes. Looking inside them, she felt an odd sensation, as like cold water was running through her head down to her spine. She knew what he was doing, and understood the reason to why he wanted her to look into his eyes. He was a legillimens.

Of course that living in a place full of dark wizards, Hermione learned really fast that if you want to keep your mind to yourself you have to know Occlumency, or else everyone will know even your deepest thoughts. She closed her mind quickly as the realization finally crept upon her, and immediately a frown appeared between Tom's eyebrows as he finally let go of her arm, now bruised.

"I see you are an intelligent witch, miss. I must prize you. There aren't many Mudbloods who have learned the old art of Occlumency."

Hermione's heart was beating in an unhealthy speech, and she felt dizzy. Of course there weren't many muggleborns who knew Occlumency. They were either dead or dying, they had no time for mystical incantations.

"Well, sir" She started, looking over her shoulder. She noticed Dumbledore was in his way to them, and felt a wave of relief wash over her. "I must be special, then."

She could not believe she had just said that, though the look on Tom's face couldn't let her think otherwise. His mouth, where a mocking smile had been playing when she looked up to him, now had fallen slightly open. His nice eyes didn't leave her face, seeming intrigued instead of arrogant as they were before. He stepped closer to her when Dumbledore finally reached them.

"I suppose I'm not interrupting anything here, am I?" the old man said smiling, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"No, professor. Lord Riddle and I had just run into each other." Hermione said immediately, trying to compensate the remark she had just did to the young man.

She looked briefly at Tom, who seemed annoyed and disappointed for a moment, but quickly recomposed his face, and it was taken by a warm smile, making Hermione doubt if she had really seen the first expression.

"Yes, it's true. I was just apologizing to Ms. Granger, wasn't I?" he said, mirroring Hermione, who simply shook her head. "Well," he continued "I have some paintings to work on right now. So, if you excuse me, I shall leave your delightful company." He said that with such conviction and politeness, that one could think he was a perfect gentleman. Dumbledore, thought, didn't seem to buy his act.

"You surely do. Please, go, Riddle. We don't want to keep you for longer. Ms. Granger has no objections against it, have you, dear?"

"No, please. I shall not keep you here longer, my Lord." She agreed, her voice sounding hoarse even to her ears. Tom smirked at her and, bowing down slightly, turned his back on them and walked away.

"Is everything really alright, Hermione?"

She looked to Dumbledore and considered telling him everything about what had just happened between her and Riddle, but she discarded the idea. Dumbledore had already many things to worry about without her own problems.

"No, professor. Lord Riddle had been just the same terrible person as ever, nothing out of the normal." Except for grabbing my arm and trying to read my mind, she completed to herself.

Dumbledore's bright blue eyes measured her for a split second, like he knew she was hiding something. However, just as fast he looked away and said, "Well then, I must go too. Go straight away to your room, will you? I don't believe in that boy Tom Riddle, and nor should you."

"I will. Thanks for helping me, professor." She said, already turning to go to her dorms. Almost in the end of the corridor, she heard Dumbledore's voice again.

"Don't you let him in, Hermione."

She turned around, however didn't find anyone there anymore. She took her way again, thinking about who she shouldn't let in.


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Oh, I took long to post this right. First, I'd like to thanks Sofia who beta-ed it to me, correct my poor english and gave me some great advices (yes sweetie, I listened to them, and I've changed a bit here already, and I'll take care of the next chapters about those things :3)

Ah, yes, since I've changed somethings here thanks to Sofi advices, there must be some mistakes that she could not correct, so forgive me ç.ç

I hope you enjoy etc. And I hope I don't abandon this fanfic, as is usual to me

So, yeah. Review, tell me what you think about the story and such :D