Disclaimer: I am not the great and powerful JK Rowling; thus I do not own anything [other than the plot] that you may recognize…
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter; it really helped me get this chapter out faster. Not to mention the fact that I'm sick; so that definitely helped the chapter get out faster. Please REVIEW and let me know what you think of the chapter.
Sunday, September 10, 1944
She knew it was over when the brightness had deceased. She slowly opened her eyes and saw that she was sleeping in a bed. Looking around, she saw that it was the Hospital Wing. "About time," she heard someone mumble at the end of the bed. She rubbed her eyes thinking that she was hallucinating. At the end of the bed, where she believed the three Aurors would be sitting, sat Harry, Ron, and Ginny. They all smiled up at her.
"You…" she automatically turned on Harry, who was already walking towards her. "Those were real Aurors, I've heard their names before. You lied Harry! You said you wouldn't…"
"Be quiet," whispered Harry. "We haven't gone over our names yet. And I know, I'm sorry, Hermione. I told you I couldn't let you do this alone. So we switched bodies with real Aurors, big deal."
"Is that why you told me to shut my eyes?" Hermione asked, arms folded.
"That was actually Kenton," Ron said with a laugh. "It was a brilliant plan, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, completely brilliant, Ronald. You better explain yourselves," Hermione said, pointing a finger at each of them in turn.
"I thought we just had," Ginny said rather confused.
Hermione shook her head. "I told you, Harry. You weren't suppose to come with. Dumbledore said…"
"Hermione, Dumbledore's the one that approved of the idea. He didn't want you to come alone," Harry said angrily. "Why won't you let us help?"
"Just forget it," Ginny said before Hermione could reply. "What's done is done. So stop fighting. It's not like we can go back."
"Obviously," mumbled Hermione. "And that's why I didn't want you guys to come. Ginny, your parents…"
"Only have five sons," Ron laughed. "They're better off without the two of us, anyways. Don't worry about it Hermione, like Ginny said; what's done is done. Let's move on, it's all in the past."
"The future, you mean," smiled Harry. Ron winked at Hermione, who couldn't help but smile. She wouldn't say it to their faces, but she was glad they were with her. It made it more bearable, even if they were annoying.
"So why am I in the Hospital Wing?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.
"You slept longer than the rest of us did," shrugged Harry. "Professor Dumbledore said it was just you getting over your cold." Harry smiled.
"My cold? I don't have a cold," Hermione said curiously.
"Come on Hermione, don't you know how this works?" Ron rolled his eyes. "We're different people now. We've been going to Hogwarts since September 1937. It is now September 194f4. You have had a cold for three weeks, and haven't been able to go to your first week of classes because of it."
"Of course, some things don't change," laughed Ginny. "You're still at the top of the class."
"She's actually tied," said Harry angrily. "With Voldemort."
"I understand how it works, Ronald," snapped Hermione sidestepping Ginny and Harry's remarks. "Just fill me in on everything, Harry."
"First week wasn't that bad, if you don't count the Potion's teacher. I think it's a curse, us having bad Potion's teachers," Harry said as Ron nodded his head in agreement.
"Well, we did have Professor Slughorn before," Ron noted.
"Harry," sighed Hermione rubbing her temple. "I don't mean classes. I mean, who am I?"
"Oh, right," laughed Harry clearing his throat. "So, Professor Dumbledore told us that when we got here, everyone would have known us for six years. So, basically we didn't have to do anything. Just show up." He laughed again. "Professor Dumbledore did tell us what our names were though." Ron reached for something in his pocket. "Other one, Ron." Ron nodded his head and reached into his left pocket. He took out a small piece of paper with Dumbledore's handwriting on it. "Professor Dumbledore said to burn this after we've all seen it." Hermione nodded her head and held her hand out for the paper. Ron set it in her palm and waited for her to read it.
"So, Harry's last name if Fourier?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "But, he's my relative."
"Dumbledore didn't want Riddle to think you were a relative of a failed wizard," shrugged Harry. "But he wanted someone to have the Fourier name."
"But Voldemort's smart," Hermione said angrily. "Doesn't Dumbledore think he'll connect the two." Harry shrugged, "None of us are friends here."
"What do you mean we're not friends?" Hermione asked in disbelief. Ron mumbled something incoherent.
"Just read the paper," Ginny said sadly.
"Ron's last name is Dawes, and Ginny's last name is De Marco. Any relevance to anyone here?" Hermione asked curiously. They both shook their heads. "And my last name is…" She looked down at the paper to say her last name, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. The name shocked her. "Why?"
"Professor Dumbledore said Voldemort would take a liking to you quicker if you were…well…"
"Related to an egotistical, dark wizard?" Hermione said still in shock. "Why couldn't I pick my own name?"
"The future…well, past picked the names for us," said Harry with a smile. "Sorry Hermione, guess you'll just have to deal with the name."
"But I'm not in anyway related to this family!" Hermione said angrily.
"It's not like you have to see him at all," Ginny said quickly.
"Professor Dumbledore must hate me," Hermione sighed.
"Listen, that was their past," Harry said. "We both know Dumbledore would never hold a person accountable because of their parent's actions."
"Yes, but this man killed Professor Dumbledore's sister!" Hermione said angrily.
"Your father," Ron corrected her. Hermione shot him an angry look, he backed away slowly.
"You can't change the name, so let's not worry about it. They're bigger things to worry about," Harry said quickly. "I'm sure everyone's going to love you, Hermione."
"That's not what I meant by not wanting his name, Harry," Hermione spat twisting herself out from under the covers. "Now finish bringing me up to date. It's obvious I'm in Slytherin house."
"Actually, you're in Ravenclaw," Harry smiled. "I'm in Slytherin and a Death Eater-" He gave a look of disgust- "Ginny's in Hufflepuff, and Ron's in Gryffindor. Therefore, none of us are friends here."
"People congregate with their houses here instead of with people they like," Ron shrugged. "I guess it's just a phase or something."
"Professor Dumbledore did mention that we'd change a few things," Ginny smiled thoughtfully. "Maybe this is one of them."
"Alright, well I'm going to go to my common room now," Hermione said with a sigh. "I better get things together for class tomorrow." Hermione noticed the three of them sharing a look. She stopped putting on her shoes and waited.
"Actually," Harry said awkwardly. "You don't live in the Ravenclaw's seventh year dorm."
"And why not?" Hermione asked angrily. "I thought I was in Ravenclaw?"
"You are," Harry said assuredly. "It's just…you received a letter over the summer and you're…well,you'retheHeadGirl." He said the last part so quickly that Hermione only heard mumbling.
"I'm what?" she asked clearly. Ginny rolled her eyes, "You're the Head Girl." Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "And…and who's the Head Boy?" Harry gave her a sheepish smile, because they all knew who the Head Boy was of the 1944 school year. "Who?" she asked again.
They all looked at each other, none of them wanting to say who the person was, though they all knew the answer. "I guess this makes it easier, because you're pretty much sleeping with the enemy."
"Don't put it that way Ronald," Ginny said hitting him across the head.
"So it's Voldemort then? He's the Head Boy?" Hermione asked worriedly. The three of them nodded their heads. Hermione put her shoes on as the three of them watched in silence. Only when she was about to leave the Hospital Wing did Harry speak, "Where are you going? It's late, you should stay here for the night."
"As Ron so humbly put it, I'm going to go sleep with the enemy." She could hear Ron grumble in dissatisfaction, and she was sure Harry's face was scrunched up in discomfort; but she quickly slammed the door to the Hospital Wing and stormed off.
She had never been to this end of the dorms, where the Head Boy and Girl lived; but she found it easier than she thought she would have. It was in a hidden in a secluded area of the school, which frightened Hermione. She had no intentions of living a room away from Voldemort when they were in a secluded area. She'd have to tell Harry, Ron and Ginny where it was; just to be safe. After all, didn't the Death Eaters know where their beloved Lord Voldemort slept?
As she stopped in front of the canvas, she realized just how nervous she was to see Voldemort as his seventeen year old self. "You must be Miss Grindelwald," the man in the canvas said with a smile. "An honor to meet you, ma'm." She smiled as he opened the canvas for her; no password needed.
She stepped over the threshold cautiously, eyeing the room closely for any hint of him. She sighed in relief when she saw that she was alone. She didn't know which room was hers, so she figured she'd be safe lying on the couch. She had just sat down when she heard the threshold open behind her. She closed her eyes, praying it wasn't him. He's the only other one allowed in here, of course it's him, she thought hoping he'd just pass by her without noticing her.
She kept herself perfectly still as Voldemort's rhythmical footsteps came closer; her nervous heart beating along with each of his footsteps. This was a bad idea, I shouldn't have come back here.
He came into Hermione's view in mere seconds, and Hermione tried to relax herself; there was no way this seventeen year old Voldemort was going to get to her. She was not going to cower. She'd been through too much to do that now. She crossed her arms quietly and waited for him to notice her.
He was reading a book very religiously, he didn't even notice he had passed one of the staircases to the dorms. His or hers, she still didn't know. She cleared her throat casually, as if there really was something stuck in there. She thought she saw a flicker of agitation cross his face, but it disappeared just as fast as it had arrived. He swallowed, slammed his book shut, and pivoted towards her.
Hermione was determined to win this battle. "Hi," she smiled when he didn't reply to her throat clearing. "I'm Hermione…Grindelwald." She stopped herself from gagging.
He nodded his head, "Yes, I know." He set the book down on the fireplace without making a thud. That surprised her, she always imagined Voldemort to be a vicious man. And yet, he was being very fragile with a book of all things. He made a clicking noise with his tongue, as if he was annoyed with her muteness.
She looked up at his somewhat thin and smooth face and smiled, "So, you're the Head Boy I suppose." She didn't mean to sound so dumb, but she had no idea what to say to him.
She thought she saw a smile pass over his face, but when she looked again, he was composed, "Seeing as only the Heads and Dippet are allowed inside, it would appear so." She saw that coming, an acidic remark for a stupid comment. "Grindelwald, you said?" She nodded. He raised an eyebrow, "Your father must've been very disappointed with you not being in Slytherin."
"I'm my own person, I don't follow in my father's footsteps. I make my own," Hermione said quickly, and it was the truth; Lord Voldemort would know that - after all, couldn't he tell when someone was lying? Or maybe he wasn't that powerful…yet.
"I respect that," he said without hesitation. "I'm not one for formalities, so if you'll excuse me." Hermione was too taken aback by his compliment to even reply to his last remark. He picked up his book and pivoted back the way he came; going up the right staircase to what Hermione now believed to be his room. She quickly stood up and went to the left, going up the few steps to her room.
The room was decorated with blue and silver; as was the customs for Hogwarts. She was already missing the red and gold of her past…well, future, life. She still couldn't believe that Voldemort of all people had complimented her for not following in Grindelwald's footsteps. Perhaps Dumbledore had been wrong to think that giving Hermione a dark wizard for a father would have a reaction on him in any way. He had seemed unmoved when she had spoken her last name. Maybe that's because he was an enemy to him; Voldemort wanted to be the dark wizard, not one of the many. And in order to do that, he would have to take down the other dark wizards. She realized that this did, however, give her the upper hand.
Her father was already a dark wizard, and that would mean that Voldemort would have to get close to her to get close to him. He would, obviously, want to know her for his own personal benefit, and she for the future's benefit. But, of course, he didn't know that she was from the future. And he didn't know that she was trying to befriend him as well. Voldemort would think he was doing it all by himself.
* * *
Monday morning's classes pasted without much excitement; History of Magic with Professor Hastings and Herbology with Professor Dawson. The afternoon, however, was when she had Potions with the Slytherins. After lunch she quickly walked to the Potions room.
She smiled at Ron and Ginny as they passed her in the hall; after all they weren't really friends in this time period. They did, however, decide to meet every Tuesday night in the Room of Requirements to discuss tactics.
She wasn't sure where she was suppose to sit in the Potions class, having not been there the first week; Harry had given her the work that she needed to make-up and she had done it fervently during breakfast that morning.
When she entered the class, Professor Slughorn approached her. "Good afternoon, Miss Grindelwald. Pleasure to see you back on your feet."
"Thank you, Professor Slughorn," she said with an air of supremacy. She saw Voldemort in the front of the room, he was half facing her and the front of the class. She could tell he was listening closely to their conversation, as was half of the class. She could feel the other Slytherins eyes seeping into her skin, perhaps they wondered why she wasn't a member of their elite house. She's sure that's what a few of them were thinking, anyways.
The Ravenclaw's bypassed her, thankfully. Maybe they feared her name, or feared her knowledge; whichever one it was, she was grateful for their lack of curiosity. "I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of sitting you next to Mr. Riddle in the front of the class." Professor Slughorn smiled. Hermione couldn't say she was surprised, the second she walked into the room she saw everyone paired up but Voldemort.
"I don't mind at all, Professor. Thank you," Hermione said, hoping her sarcasm hadn't reached the end of her tongue. Professor Slughorn didn't seem to notice any sarcasm, and nodded his head happily as he walked to the front of the room; Hermione trailing somewhat slower behind him. She slipped into her chair with ease and didn't even look at Voldemort as the class began.
Voldemort didn't seem to notice her presence, or maybe he was use to ignoring those around him. Slughorn began writing instructions for their newest potion on the board, and Hermione and Voldemort both began writing down the instructions in their notebooks. Hermione finished a little before he did, and took a peek at his paper to see why he hadn't finished yet. She did it cautiously and was sure he didn't even notice her quick glance.
He had written something on the top of the paper, which was obviously what he had been working on when she sat down next to him. She wasn't sure if it was a riddle or a spell, because it was written in a different language. She looked away quickly when Voldemort turned towards her. She heard him sigh and clear his throat as he stood up. "Grindelwald, we're suppose to make the Exploding Fluid."
"I know," she mumbled standing up quickly. "Of course, you'll need my help." She meant for it to be sarcastic, but realized a minute too late that Voldemort was not use to sarcasm or any other sort of conversation. After all, he didn't do "formalities".
She could tell he looked taken aback by the remark, but he quickly replied, "I said nothing of the sort. I'm capable of making more complex potions than this by myself, however; I thought Professor Slughorn might not be so gracious towards you when he sees you staring at my notebook instead of working."
"I wasn't staring at your notebook," she said, blushing. She quickly hid the blush, hoping he hadn't seen it. Thankfully, he was cutting the peppermint sticks and hadn't look over at her. "I'll get the Erumpent fluid from Professor Slughorn."
She was about to turn away from the table when Voldemort's comment stopped her, "No need, I already have some." He pointed towards his bag, as if to tell her to get the fluid from the bag itself. "Don't just stand there. It's in the bag."
"And why, may I ask, do you carry Erumpent fluid around with you?" Hermione asked cautiously opening his bag. She felt silly for thinking it, but she thought his bag would curse anyone who touched it who wasn't Voldemort. Thankfully, it did nothing of the sort and she retrieved the fluid from its contents. She set it on the table.
"You never know when it will come in handy," he muttered swirling the peppermint sticks into the potion. It was turning yellow; just like the instructions on the board said it would. He grabbed for the fluid and quickly poured the contents into the potion. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Professor Slughorn watching them both with pleasure.
She was use to being the smartest witch in her class, but that was her future self; and in this past of hers, she had to face the fact that Voldemort was just as smart as she was, if not more. Professor Slughorn walked over to their table when they had finished. "Excellent work, Tom," he whispered. "Next time, let Miss Grindelwald help." He laughed and Voldemort, frowning, nodded his head. Hermione wasn't sure if he was frowning at his remark or the way he said it.
Hermione could tell from his tone that whenever Professor Slughorn said her last name, he said it with a hint of excitement and awe. As would most people, if they used her last name. Professor Slughorn, however, had never said her first name before. The only student he ever called by their first name was Voldemort.
"Class is over in twenty minutes, when you're finished please label the vial with you and your partner's names and then bring them to me," Professor Slughorn said as he left their table. Voldemort passed her the vial without a word, and she poured a sample of their potion into the vial, labeled their names on it, and then took it to Professor Slughorn. "Thank you, Miss Grindelwald." She nodded her head and slipped back into her chair, anxious to leave the class.
She noticed a certain yellow haired Slytherin walk past her. He stopped in front of Voldemort, who seemed angry that he was being confronted in class. Hermione felt a bit of excitement surge through her body, knowing that this was, obviously, one of his Death Eaters. Voldemort looked over to her and then back at the Slytherin as he noticed that she wasn't watching him; with her eyes at least.
When Voldemort talked, his tone was different from when he had talked to Slughorn or her; it was authoritative and powerful, one of those voices that, if hard to hear, would drawl people closer as if to not miss one word. "You know better than to confront me during class, Malfoy."
"Of course, my Lord," Malfoy whispered back, making it hard for Hermione to hear. "The Death Eaters…" Voldemort stood up, stopping Malfoy mid sentence. His eyes were lit with fire as he spoke, "Tonight on the east side of the forest. The next time you confront me during class, Malfoy, you will be extremely sorry."
Malfoy gave the slightest hint of a bow and mumbled, "My apologies, my Lord." As Malfoy walked back to his seat, Hermione kept her eyes on her notebook, pretending that she was writing something. The bell rang just when Hermione thought she could no longer bear Voldemort watching her. She quickly stood up and turned to leave.
"Grindelwald, a word," Voldemort said authoritatively. He cleared his throat; still used to being the Voldemort and not the Riddle. Hermione slowly turned to face him as he pointed to the back of the room. She followed behind him and waited for him to stop. When he did, he didn't turn towards her. "Has Dumbledore briefed you on patrol duty?"
"I've been in the hospital wing since I got here," she said sarcastically. Voldemort turned towards her, and Hermione couldn't help but move back half an inch. He still had the fire in his eyes.
"A simple 'no' would have sufficed," he said angrily. "We patrol every Wednesday night. Every Thursday night we have a meeting with the other Prefects."
"What if Wednesday night doesn't work for me?" Hermione asked, wanting to see how mad Voldemort could get without him blowing up on her; she wanted to test her limits. Voldemort seemed on the verge of hexing her when he answered, "I can patrol by myself."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, "What's the point of having two if you do it all by yourself?" She crossed her arms in agitation. "And besides, Dumbledore said that you can't patrol alone." He sighed heavily, and through gritted teeth replied; "Then we schedule a change of nights with other Prefects. Does that suit you?"
"Very much so, yes," she said with a smile. He didn't return the look. Her smile slowly vanished as she cleared her throat. "If that's all…" He simply nodded and she turned to leave. She noticed that he didn't follow behind him; they both had Defense Against the Dark Arts together. She stopped outside the door and turned back, wondering why he was still in the room. She peered into the room and saw that he was deep in thought; just as he was when he was reading that book.
"Are you coming?" she asked, wondering if her voice was enough to snap him out of his thoughts. Say his name. "Vol…Tom?" She hoped he didn't hear the almost slip. She saw his head snap up at the sound of his name - she hoped it wasn't the Vol that caught his attention. "Are you coming? We have Defense Against the Dark Arts next."
He took a minute to respond, and when he did his tone seemed very weak and confused. "I don't think I'll be able to make it." Hermione raised an eyebrow curiously; she didn't think Voldemort ever missed the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, it was the class he felt most powerful in, for obvious reasons. "I have some business to attend to." He whispered the last part, and Hermione was sure he was talking to himself more than to her. As he said it, he quickly walked past her; eyes adverted down.
She was unsure of what to do; go to class like a good witch, or follow Voldemort. She wanted to go to class; having already missed a week, but she knew that Voldemort not becoming Voldemort was more important than one class of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Finally making up her mind, she put a jinx on her shoes, so as to not make noise as she followed (she continuously told herself it wasn't stalking) Voldemort to wherever he was going.
She followed him up four flights of stairs and watched him enter the library. Was he seriously picking out another book right now? She cautiously entered the library, noticing that he was already walking towards the restricted section. She noticed Madame Dupree, the librarian of this century, give him a smile and welcome him to the library. He didn't acknowledge her, and she didn't seem taken aback by it; perhaps she was used to it.
Hermione was somewhat surprised that Voldemort had a pass to the restricted section, but then again, Professor Slughorn and all the other teachers were more than just fond of him. She went down the row of books just before the restricted section, hid herself in the back, and watched through a shelf's cracks as he frantically looked for a book.
She jumped when the bell for lunch rang, she hadn't realized the time. Neither did Voldemort, according to his reaction. He was neither worried nor cared, but acknowledged the bells ring with a grunt of anger. It was obvious to Hermione that he didn't know what book he was actually looking for, and if he did; it certainly wasn't in the restricted section.
Finally giving up ten minutes after the lunch bell rang, he left the restricted section and confronted Madame Dupree. "Excuse me, Madame Dupree, but it seems the Hogwarts Encyclopedia has been misplaced."
"Of course it's not, dear," she said a little too happily. As Hermione silently walked behind the many book cases, she saw Voldemort's agitation only grow. "The encyclopedia's been moved to the Headmaster's personal library."
"Thank you," she said with another sigh. Madame Dupree, obviously not noticing the anger in his voice, simply nodded and replied, "Of course, dear. That's what I'm here for." Voldemort, obviously more determined than before, walked out of the library. He seemed to almost be running as he went down the two staircases to the Headmaster's Office.
Now that Hermione knew what he was after, she felt she might as well stop following him. After all, it was a lot harder to hide when there was only a staircase around. She quickly went down to the Great Hall, and saw Harry walking out as she walked in. He motioned for her to follow him. She nonchalantly traveled behind him and followed him into an empty room.
"Why weren't you or Voldemort in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry asked worriedly when he closed and locked the door.
"I don't have time to explain," Hermione said quickly. "All you need to know is that there's a Death Eater meeting tonight on the east side of the forest. You're in, right?"
Harry nodded his head, "Of course I'm in, but why am I not hearing this from Abraxas?" Hermione smiled, "Abraxas confronted Voldemort in front of the potion's class. I might of overheard the conversation."
"Nothing seems to pass by you," smiled Harry, then he frowned. "Voldemort might have wanted you to hear that, though. He could have easily just told Abraxas to meet him after class; but instead he told Abraxas about the meeting in front of you. It could be a trap."
"I'm not worried, Voldemort didn't see me listening," Hermione shrugged. "Besides, he's more worried about the Hogwarts Encyclopedia than anything else."
"You don't know that," Harry said. "Take it from someone who knows; you can't trust Voldemort…even when he's supposedly trusting you."
"Harry, that makes no sense whatsoever," Hermione said. "Voldemort's not trusting me with anything."
"But he is," Harry retorted. "By saying that in front of you, he's trusting you with very, very valuable information, Hermione. Don't take advantage of it. Not this time, anyways. Not till we know what he's playing at."
"He's not 'playing at' anything, Harry," said Hermione. "In case you haven't noticed, he doesn't know we're from the future. As far as he knows, we've been going here since his first year."
"Then why is he looking through the Hogwarts Encyclopedia?" Harry asked worriedly. "There has to be something in there that'll give us away."
"There isn't," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "He's just putting his information in there. Obviously."
"How do you know?" Harry asked with a laugh. Hermione smiled, "When I had the encyclopedia, there was writing all over the pages. It's obvious it was Tom's writing, it looks just like his writing from his notebook. I'm sure Professor Dippet's going to let him keep the encyclopedia until the end of the year. I mean, there are two copies of them." Harry still didn't look convinced. "Don't worry about it, Harry. I've got it under control."
"Alright," Harry sighed. "Just don't come to the meeting tonight. I'll tell you about it tomorrow." Hermione nodded her head in agreement. "I'll see you tomorrow then, seven o'clock in the Room of Requirements."
"Yep," Hermione said with a smile. "Can't wait." Harry nodded his head and turned to leave. The minute he was gone Hermione had made up her mind; she was not for any reason missing out on the first Death Eater meeting of the year. Especially when the ancestor of Draco Malfoy was going to get punished.
* * *
Hermione skipped dinner, too eager to get to the east side of the forest before the meeting started. She dressed herself in all black; wanting to stay camouflaged in the dark forest. Looking at herself in the mirror, she realized just how nervous she was. She didn't know why it bothered her; seeing Voldemort be…well, Voldemort. But it did.
She tried to forget about all that had happened in the future, seeing as she could change it; but the images just wouldn't leave her alone. All afternoon she kept remembering the pain that Voldemort had put her through. She hated herself for being so calm when her parents killer was living next door to her.
She jumped at the sound of the clock striking five. She had an hour. She cracked open her door to see if Voldemort had come back from his afternoon class. She found herself alone. She grabbed her wand and notebook, just in case, and quickly left the room. When she opened the canvas and jumped through it, she nearly ran into Voldemort.
"In a hurry, Grindelwald?" he half laughed as she dropped her notebook and wand. Hermione rolled her eyes and quickly picked up her notebook. She turned to pick up her wand and couldn't find it. She saw Voldemort's hand, holding her wand, outstretched in her direction. "You should mind your surroundings, Grindelwald. You may not be so lucky next time around."
Hermione raised her eyebrow, "What's that suppose to mean?"
"Don't sound so worried, Grindelwald. It was just a suggestion," he said quickly as he waved her wand in his hand.
"It didn't sound like a suggestion," Hermione said, not even noticing her wand in his hand. "It sounded like a threat."
"If you'll excuse me, Grindelwald," Voldemort said angrily. "I have work to do and I'd rather not waste my time arguing with…just take your wand." He shoved the wand in her hands and quickly walked around her, going through the threshold without a backwards glance.
Hermione furiously pocketed her wand and walked out of the castle, wondering what he had been about to say. Arguing with what? He could have easily said 'you', but instead he had completely brushed over it and ran off. She half laughed at that thought; Voldemort ran away. And why had he picked up her wand if he wasn't going to use it on her? Voldemort wasn't charitable or even nice.
She took a deep breathe of relief when she reached the forest without running into the caretaker or anyone else. She hoped no one saw her through their windows; seeing as everyone should be on their way to dinner, however, she was sure she was safe. She walked a few minutes into the forest and then sat down on a rock, dropping her notebook to the ground quietly. She only had to wait twenty minutes for the group of Death Eaters to start assembling.
They all wore hooded cloaks, so she was unable to tell who was arriving. The only thing that gave them away was their voices. She heard Abraxas speak first, "That's preposterous Rosier. There's no way the Dark Lord will go for that."
"And why won't he, Malfoy? It would make more sense to meet in the Chamber of Secrets," Rosier said with a laugh. "Don't you agree Lestrange?"
"Not on this, Rosier. The Chamber is the Dark Lord's solitude. He'll have your head for even thinking it," Lestrange laughed.
"Oh don't be so melodramatic, Lestrange," Malfoy laughed. It was quite for the next ten minutes as more members assembled in their circle.
"I'm sure the Dark Lord wouldn't really have my head for it," laughed Rosier, more to himself than to the other's in the conversation. The group laughed, even those that hadn't been in the conversation from the start.
"Don't be so sure, Rosier," said a loud, authoritative voice. The laughter stopped immediately. The group of Death Eaters all bowed, nearly on the floor, and said in unison, "My Lord." Voldemort, though farther away then the rest, seemed more profound to Hermione. Not just because he was Lord Voldemort, but because of what he was wearing.
Hermione knew Voldemort wouldn't wear the same as his Death Eaters, because they weren't his equal. He'd obviously be wearing something tied towards being the Heir of Slytherin. And Hermione was right. He was wearing a dark green cloak with silver flowing throughout it. And as she looked closer, she noticed that the silver joined to make the Slytherin crest.
He seemed to glide towards the circle of Death Eaters as he spoke, "Arise." Slowly and uniformly, the Death Eaters stood up, but still their heads bowed. "Abraxas Malfoy, step forward." Hermione saw the body of Malfoy stiffen and step out the circle of Death Eater.
"My Lord," he mumbled, bowing yet again. If Voldemort seemed annoyed, he didn't show it. Though he too was hooded, Hermione could tell how unemotional his face was. No anger, no hate, no anything. Just him. Or lack, thereof.
"Abraxas Malfoy, you were the one to conjure this meeting, were you not?" Voldemort asked quickly. Abraxas nodded his head. "Speak."
"Yes, my Lord," Abraxas said quietly. Hermione almost laughed at how scared he sounded.
"Did you, Abraxas Malfoy, interrupt me during Potions class and, not only begin to inform me of the Death Eaters concerns, but speak my name and that of your own in front of witnesses?"
For a minute it seemed like Malfoy was going to explain his reasoning, but then, slowly, he said, "Yes, my Lord."
"Let this be a lesson to all," Voldemort said walking towards Malfoy. "You do not confront me while I'm surrounded by wizards, especially Grindelwald." Hermione nearly jumped at the sound of her name. There were a few mumbles from the Death Eaters, but Voldemort didn't listen. He slipped back his hood and motioned for Malfoy to kneel. "Ask for your forgiveness, Malfoy."
"My Lord," Malfoy said loudly, lying himself completely on the floor. "Please forgive me. It won't happen again."
"You are the most trusted in the circle, Malfoy," Voldemort said as close to a tender voice as someone like him could suffice. "And I cannot show favoritism to any." Malfoy nodded his head. "Stand."
"Thank you, my Lord," Abraxas said, as he quickly stood up.
"That was not the punishment, Malfoy," Voldemort sneered. "Remove your hood and give me your arm." As he removed his hood, Hermione could see just how confused and worried he was. He stretched out his left arm as Voldemort took it. "Those who do not obey orders will be punished." Voldemort pulled back the cloak, revealing the Dark Mark concealed under it. He pulled out his wand and pressed the tip into the mark.
Abraxas' mouth shot open in pain, but Hermione could hear nothing. Looking around, she saw the Death Eaters move in discomfort; they obviously heard his screaming. After what seemed like hours, Voldemort released the spell around the Death Eaters as well as the wand from Malfoy's mark.
Abraxas fell to the floor in pain. "Stand and join the circle, Malfoy," Voldemort said angrily. "Now what is on the minds of my Death Eaters?" No one spoke. "Rosier, I believe Malfoy is unable to speak at the given time. He confides in you, enlighten me." Hermione thought it odd that Voldemort didn't just read their minds and gather the information himself, but perhaps this way was better.
"In the last meeting, my Lord," Rosier said, stepping into the circle. He seemed more confident than Malfoy. "You proposed the Death Eater Rebellion." Hermione's eye widened. Hadn't that already started? The books said it started as early as the 1940s. Wasn't it already 1944?"I did," Voldemort agreed authoritatively.
"The Death Eaters have been discussing the rebellion, and wonder if; forgive me for saying it, my Lord. But we wondered if we're ready for such a thing," Rosier said with a shrug. "This has only been the fourth meeting with all of us gathered."
"Does the fact of time really mean that much to you all?" Voldemort said angrily. Hermione could see the fire in his eyes. "Time is but an essence of history. It means nothing to me." Hermione raised an eyebrow at the irony in that sentence. She saw Rosier step back. Another body stepped forward. "And your take, Alphard Black?"
"My Lord, the only reason we fear this rebellion's timing is because of the powerful wizards that stand in our way," Alphard said quickly as he stepped back into the circles form.
"I fear nothing, and neither shall you," Voldemort said quickly. "Grindelwald will be taken care of."
"How so?" someone asked; Hermione could tell it was Harry. Voldemort didn't call his name, but answered the question, "It's only a matter of time before I get my hands on him. Have no fear, my Death Eaters."
"What of Dumbledore? And Dippet?" Rosier asked loudly. "What of them? You can't possibly take down all three of them.
"Dippet's a pathetic excuse for a wizard," laughed Malfoy. "Any one of us could easily take him down."
"Dippet will be easy, it's Dumbledore that may cause the problem," Voldemort said, ignoring Malfoy's remark. "He already has his suspicions of me. And it's not up to you, Rosier, or any one else, to say what my limits are."
"Of course, my Lord," Rosier said quickly. "I did not mean in like that."
"You're dismissed," Voldemort said commandingly. "You will be informed of the next meeting soon."
As they did when he arrived, they all bowed and mumbled, "My Lord" in unison. And slowly the group of Death Eaters turned to one. Hermione could tell it was Abraxas. "You were dismissed, Malfoy."
"Forgive me, my Lord," he said cautiously. "But I wondered…"
"Do not trespass my authority Malfoy or you will suffer the consequences again. You were dismissed. Now leave," he said angrily.
"Of course, my Lord," Abraxas said quickly as he bowed and left without another word. Hermione heard the sound of the clock ding seven from the far distance. It didn't seem to bother Voldemort, nor did it bother her. She had no where to be and no real friends to talk to according to this time period. It seemed that Voldemort was in the same predicament. Though he had followers, he most certainly didn't have any friends in this or any other time period.
Hermione wanted to laugh at the thought, but it was more sad than funny, even if it was Voldemort. She couldn't imagine what life would be like without having friends like Harry, Ron and Ginny. Or not having a loving family. Even dead, she knew it was better to have memories of them then not have them at all. Somehow it made life bearable.f
But for someone like Voldemort, who had grown up in a lie, there was no bearing of any of those feelings. No loving family to help and nurture him as he grew up. No friends to keep him on the right path. He was an outsider.
Now that she thought it, as she looked at Voldemort's face, she saw the Tom hiding within him. The man who, if he had those friends and family, might not be so bad after all.
A/N: Wow, isn't that one long day? Crazy, huh. :D Let me know what you guys think?
