Author's Note: Hello again! Thank you all for continuing on with this story, favoriting, following and reviewing! Before I begin, I would like to thank Mama123 for her review and constructive criticism! Hopefully the rest of the chapters will be more tailored- I admit I struggled to find a balance between setting up all that had changed in this world, while establishing my own story line, so now that all that is out of the way I hope that time between action and inaction will be more reasonable. And yes, Snape is one of my favorites!

Disclaimer: All properties and characters are owned by JK Rowling, and I am not making any money from this work of fiction.

Chapter Two: Chess

'We can destroy what we have written, but we can not unwrite it.'

-Anthony Burgess, A Clockwork Orange

Dumbledore shook his head, that annoying twinkle glowing thrice as bright as before. "No, my dear. I'd like you to join him."

"I...what?!" Hermione started, her face contorting rather unattractively into one of utter confusion. How is joining the darkest wizard of all time going to- in any way- save their world?

"Not truly join him, mind you," Dumbledore explained, casting his gaze over to Severus and holding them there as he continued. "We will send you back so that you can join his ranks as a spy, and from there you will be able to perform damage control. Tom may not have truly risen to power until the 70's, but he began plotting and planning long before then. As I'm sure you know, his diary which was created at the end of his fifth year in 1943 was his first every horcrux...And I believe it was that year that Lord Voldemort came into fruition."

His eyes finally turned to her, looking into her own rather pressingly as he added, "If you agree to this, then you will work alongside my past self, relaying any and all information you can receive. You will prevent any events that have been decided as providing him with too much power, and allow those that are deemed necessary to carry on under a watchful eye."

She was shaking her head before he was even finished. "No. No. I can't...there is no way I can even pretend to share any ideals with that...that monster! He'll see through me in an instant and kill me on the spot!"

"We have a two month waiting period before the potion will actually be ready, and in that time both I and Severus"- he paused here to gesture to the younger man- "Have agreed to train you. Though you made our job rather easy, Miss Granger. I dare say you have achieved some level of skill with your occlumency?" He raised a knowing eyebrow, chuckling as she blushed. She had been careful to keep her walls up ever since discovering he was reading her mind, but she knew she was not nearly experienced enough to provide more than an inconvenience to him.

"I taught myself, from books," she explained, ignoring Snape's snort and mutter of bookworm! "I'm not very good though."

"We will make you better."

"But, sir, wouldn't it just be...easier to kill him? If this potion truly does create an entirely new world, why even bother trying to mimic it?" she asked, still feeling uncertain of her ability to make nice with the future Dark Lord.

The elderly wizard frown. "Time has a way of maintaining itself, and Nickandros theorized that the universe will not allow for too much to change. He explains it as there being fixed points in time which regardless of how many attempts to prevent it, will occur. Killing Tom before he becomes Voldemort will alter too much, and the fixed points surrounding his reign will happen with or without him. It is likely that the universe- to prevent too much from changing- will create another witch or wizard to take his place. And with Tom we-"

"Better to have the devil you know," she shrugged, and smiling, he nodded.

"We know Tom. We can predict his actions, and we can control the ones we already are aware of. In the two months, we will train you in your occlumency and other areas we find advantageous, all while picking through history and deciding which events must remain in tact in order to maintain Tom's position in the universe, and which ones can be discarded," he said. "In fact, Severus here as even agreed to loan you his personal notes from his times as a spy to act as a guideline."

She turned to look at him, almost laughing at the look of sheer contempt on his face. She had a feeling there was less agreeing, and more arm twisting than Dumbledore cared to admit.

"So, if I do change all of this, without killing him, when do you plan to have him...die by?" It was rather uncomfortable, discussing the strategic death of someone as though it were an idle game of chess. Even if it was Lord Voldemort, she couldn't help but feel anxious at the thought of playing God with someone's life. "What is the time frame I have to work with?"

"The Battle of Hogwarts."

"So far? The war was already well into itself by then, sir!"

"Exactly," Snape said, raising his brow at her. "Albus believes that our war is one of those fixed points, so we can't disallow it from happening. But ending it at the battle in 1998 will prevent the devastation from reaching it's current level."

She was very lively now, her brain whirring into overdrive. She was receiving simultaneously more knowledge than ever before, and not nearly enough! The young witch longed to know more, practically jumped with the need to ask every who? What? When? Where? And why? She could. The questions she had were coming to her so quickly she couldn't stop them long enough to figure out the ones she wanted to ask most.

But before she could settle on one, Dumbledore looked at her with appraising eyes and asked, "So, what do you say Miss Granger, will you do it?"

Looking down at her hands on her lap, the fingernails dirty and covered in blood and dirt while the skin was cracked and dry. It was a tempting solution, she had to admit. The idea that she could save so many lives and prevent the war from gaining the momentum it did was appealing, and she allowed herself to briefly fantasize about what life would've been like had the war ended that night. Harry and Ron would still be alive, and perhaps married and settling down with children of their own. The Weasley's would still be the large family that they had been, instead of the two or so that remained, the rest having been killed off. And perhaps she could even save lives that had otherwise not been saved up until that point! Sirius Black, Cedric Diggory...even Lily and James Potter were just a few of the people whom she could potentially save from an untimely death. The ideas and possible outcomes were growing exponentially, and with a firm smile she looked at the former headmaster and said, "What have I got to lose?"

-xXx-

Tom Marvolo Riddle sat in the parlor, his body reclining on a rather lovely and ornate armchair that appeared to be an antique. His dark blue eyes scanned the room, pausing on the bodies of his father, grandmother, and grandfather in turn. He hadn't meant to kill all three of them- he truly only wanted his father, the disgraceful muggle man that shared a face so similar to his own, to be the single death on his hands tonight. But they had all been in the room together when he entered, and after the intoxicating high and euphoria that came with casting the killing curse once...well, there was certainly no way he would stop at one when there were three of them.

His only regret was not enjoying the moment more. Oh, make no mistake, he had delighted in the look of fear on his father's face (truly shameful, that was, to see what was essentially his own visage contorted in such a disgusting and pathetic emotion.) He had drawn that death out, alternating between taunting the senior Tom Riddle and using the cruciatus course on the man. He had never gotten the chance to use it before- unable to perform such dark magic in the school and knowing that even if he could, the trace of the magical signature of his wand would alert the authorities to his use of it. But outside of Hogwarts, and sporting the wand he had moments earlier stolen from his very own uncle, he was finally able to test it out.

And my, what a spell it was. He felt the wand vibrate with the force of the spell, his entire body thrumming with what he soon realized was dark magic and he didn't want the sensation to end. And then his father writhed, twisting his body in ways that seemed anatomically improbable as his head was thrown back and his mouth opened wide, a high pitched scream filling the luxurious sitting room. When he finally stopped the curse, the older man was perspiring heavily, panting out deep and ragged breaths as he twitched, the remaining effects of the curse leaving his body.

'Let's try this again, and this time, don't scream out in pain you filthy muggle,' Tom had said, finding it embarrassingly difficult to keep his voice measured and collected when he himself was feeling so positively giddy. And he had done it again and again, not stopping until his father could no longer scream, near unconscious with pain and exhaustion. 'That's better,' he praised patronizingly, before using the other curse he had been longing to try out. The green light pulsed forth, shrouding the room with it's blinding glow, and then he was dead.

He had never truly killed anyone before, aside from that Warren girl during the school year- and even then he was more or less responsible for her death. The basilisk had done the rest. At the time, he had thought that watching her die and knowing he was the reason for it, as he had set the beast on her and told it to act, was the closest he had ever come to joy.

But nothing compared to this, having someone moan in agony and beg for you to just please have some mercy as your very own wand was trained on them. After he had killed his father and the rush of dark magic flooded in his system, he couldn't help himself. He turned to the two other muggles he had bound with a petrificus and promptly killed them as well, eager to feel the surge of adrenaline and endorphins. Now, as he sat looking at their lifeless bodies, he realized he should have taken his time with them. He hardly got to bask in their fear of him.

'No matter,' he thought, standing from his seated position and smoothing over his impeccable robes. 'There will be more opportunities.'

Yes, he decided then and there, that this would certainly not be his last. There would be many more to come, and he would be sure that next time he would do it properly, with all the pomp and circumstance he deserved. But for now, he had to make his leave, having gotten what he wanted. It was growing late, and he would have to return to that abysmal orphanage. Besides, he had to pay another visit to his dear uncle.

-xXx-

Hermione looked over her notes as Snape busied himself with the final stages of the potion. She was packed, her cloth satchel (fitted with an extension charm) was filled with everything she would need. A number of tomes and books that hadn't existed in the time she was about to head to that provided excellent information for his mission, some of them wizarding, others muggle. Snape's notebooks that he had unceremoniously tossed at her while bitterly muttering about that babbling old fool was among the luggage, as well as multiple blank journals that she intended to use for her own keeping. However one journal sat in her lap, opened to a page filled with her neat and concise handwriting. The page contained the many rules and things to keep in mind that Dumbledore and Snape had ticked off to her.

Tracing a finger down the page, she read it once more as a plume of golden smoke emitted from the cauldron, vowing to commit it all to memory.

She had been disheartened to learn that she could not, in fact, save Lily and James Potter. It was too pivotal, Dumbledore had claimed. Without their deaths, Voldemort would have not been subdued for those years. Harry would not have had the power over him. And, as Dumbledore quickly glanced sidelong at Snape, who seemed to sour considerably with the turn of conversation, would have prevented an invaluable ally from joining them. She agreed with him, against her better want, and they had continued discussing what events she had to allow and which she could impede. It felt dreadful, scouring over history to see whose death was necessary and who could be spared. Drawing the parallels and following the chain of events was exhausting, and she was thankful Dumbledore and Snape had the knowledge and insight to be so thorough. Yet, it did nothing to relieve the dirty feeling she had, knowing she would allow many to die for the greater good.

Myrtle had to die, so that the diary could be created. If the diary hadn't been created, then Harry wouldn't have freed Dobby from Malfoy, and Dobby wouldn't have been able to rescue them from Malfoy Manor, still very much bound by their orders.

This was how the conversations would go, every possible situation being examined with a fine toothed comb. They had managed to whittle it all down, and she had her plan of action for the timeline neatly written down in her heavily warded journal.

The sound of rapid bubbling drew her from her reverie, and, depositing her journal in her endless bag and shuffling it onto her shoulders, she walked to Snape's side. He was slowly moving the wooden spoon in counterclockwise motions, the golden potion clumping into fine granules of sand within the pewter cauldron.

"Is it almost ready?"

He nodded. "Indeed. All we need now is a blood sample of the intended," he said, fixing her with a pointed gaze.

"Right." She pursed her lips as she unsheathed her wand and made a slicing motion with it down her palm. A small cut appeared across the pale skin, blood bubbling to the surface. Tipping her hand over the sand, she watched as the little red droplets fell into the brew, the sand momentarily turning a deep shade of burgundy before settling back to gold.

She pulled back, healing the cut as Snape set about filling an empty time turner with the sand. Her anxiety was building as she realized that in a mere matter of minutes, she would be displaced through time and meeting the younger version of Lord Voldemort.

"Do not fret, Hermione. You will do well, I am sure of it," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands reassuringly onto her thin shoulders and smiling warmly. "Just remember all you have learned, and all we have discussed."

She nodded. "I'm just...afraid he'll find out."

"He won't. Your occlumency is far beyond advanced now, thanks to Severus, and even if you weren't so well trained, Tom is still relatively new to the concept of legillimancy in this time. You have built up an admirable tolerance to veritaserum and you know well of what you have to do. He will have no reason to be more suspicious than he would be otherwise," he calmly noted, and she tried to offer a shaky smile.

"I just don't want to make things worse."

No one said anything then, not wanting to pose the question they all thought to themselves. Could it truly be worse than this?

"It is ready," Snape drawled. In the two months that they worked together, she had gotten rather good at reading his subtle expressions, and despite his best efforts to seem bored and inconvenienced, she could see the little nervous ticks and the emotions surfacing in his dark eyes. He was anxious, and hopeful, and anxious about being too hopeful.

She accepted the proffered time turner, noting how different it was from the one she had used in her third year. It had been made- as per specifications in Nickandro's text- specifically for this purpose. Pulling the necklace around her head, she held the little hourglass in her palm, examining the runic letters engraved around the perimeter of both circles. She took a deep breath and looked up to the two men facing her, both trying to conceal their nerves and trepidation.

"5 turns?" she asked.

Dumbledore nodded. Then, as an after thought, reminded her once more, "Do not forget your purpose. While the Voldemort you know has had his soul and mind corrupted beyond recognition and sanity, Tom Riddle was still very much in his right mind. He was a master of manipulation and the spoken word, and presented a very polite and affable front. Do not for a second buy it."

She bristled, wanting to snap at him for thinking she would so easily forget about the tragedy she would suffer at his wand simply because he knew what to say and had a charming smile. But she had tried to tell herself he was simply trying to help. Besides, she had already hexed Snape after he told her to keep her "girlish tendencies in check", implying she would, like many girls had, thrown herself into Riddle's bed.

"I won't, Professor." Sending them all what she hoped was a confident look, she began to turn the dial.

One.

Two.

"Good luck, Granger."

Three.

"Do not overlook the wolf inside the pretty sheep costume."

Four.

Five.

The device heated in her palm and began to glow gold, and she looked up just in time to see them both begin to fade away as she felt a familiar pull and tug. Within seconds, she was gone, swept away from this moment, from this time.

-xXx-

Things to Remember

Present yourself as intelligent and powerful, but not too powerful to be seen as a threat.

Do not be afraid to demonstrate your knowledge of Dark Magic, this will only increase his interest in you and encourage him to recruit you.

You are a half-blood, not muggle-born or pure-blood; this will allow him to see you as his equal and trust you more, as he too is a half-blood.

Albus Dumbledore is your second cousin, but you do not quite see eye to eye with him. Riddle admires Dumbledore's powers and knowledge, but despises his perceptiveness and sympathy. Use this information to your advantage.

You're family was killed by Grindelwald, and you were drawn into the war as a result. This will act as your excuse for being to as strong and capable as you are, as well as explain your scars.

Do not be over-eager to please, he will see you as weak and use you for no more than passing interests. Make him work for your support, which if you follow the above guidelines, he will.

Know when to submit to him. He will respect your strength to challenge him, but not your cheek and disregard of his power.

Do what you must to hold your place in his ranks. You are playing the role of a devoted yet strong-willed follower. Act as such.

Do not under any circumstances allow him to know of your origin. Do anything within your power to prevent this, as he will become obsessed with finding any and all information, regardless of the damage you'll suffer.

Do not forget who and what he is. No matter how polite, how tender or how caring he pretends to be, it is all just as much an act as yours is.

-xXx-

Author's Note: And now we are into the meat of the story! The next chapter will see her get settled into her new (old?) school, and of course, interacting with Tom. I would like to thank Mama123 once more, as she was inspiration for Hermione receiving Snape's notes from his time as a spy. She wanted him to travel with her and act as guide (which I would have loved to have done!) But he couldn't, as Tom would later work with him in the Second War, and that part of the time line needed to remain in tact. So hopefully the notebooks will be a nice way to keep him (one of my favorite characters) in the story. As always, please review!