Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, just a fan.
Warning: There is a very small amount of violence towards the end.
One
Hermione Granger arrived in 1944 nearly silently. Her only fault was that she stumbled, reaching out to balance herself on the chair in front of her. It was identical to the one she'd risen from moments ago. Glancing at the clock, she realized she was one minute and thirty seconds early, and patted her neck to see if the time turner had truly turned to water to prevent future usage. She found her neckline moist and shirt wet, dyed purple in some places as evidence of it once being there. Smiling at Snape and Dumbledore's combined genius, she resisted charming her clothes proper and sat down in the chair to wait for the latter man's arrival.
After a few minutes, he stepped into the office, a curious expression filling his younger face at her quiet presence. She smiled kindly at him, offering her hand, which he kissed politely. "Good evening, Professor. I hope that your holiday went well this year," she said as she handed him the letter. She watched as his eyes widened slightly at seeing his name in his own handwriting, and found herself blushing at the look of awe he was giving her.
"Are you from another time, my dear?"
She nodded to the envelope; "I believe it best to read the offering, professor. You may ask anything you like afterwards." Hermione returned to her seat and refolded her hands over her lap, settling in as he sat behind his desk and carefully opened the note; she knew that the future Dumbledore had written quiet a bit to himself.
After ten minutes of reading and five more of silence, he leaned toward her, pushing an assortment of candies in a small dish forward. "The lemon drops are my favorite, but choose any that you like." She did, picking at random and surprising herself at the raspberry flavoring of the sweet before smiling and bowing her head in thanks. "I am supposed to determine a name for you, but I can't say that is such a wise decision. You may choose your own, but might I suggest something you won't find yourself forgetting? Perhaps a middle name, or something as such."
Hermione thought briefly, listing off the pet names her family had giving her. "Might I keep my surname, sir?"
"Of course, dear."
"Mimi Medusa Medora Granger. My parents always called me Mimi," she finished solemnly, before smiling darkly, "And I like all the M's, considering which family I'm to be a part of."
He smiled gently, having already read that her parents had died under the hand of the Dark Lord. "Lovely," he said quietly, before studying her for a few more minutes. She remained calm and collected under his gaze, and he found himself impressed by her. Finally he spoke, "Medusa Medora," he mused. Cunning ruler. It was what she would become, if she were to succeed. He found that it seemed to fit, even if her eyes were a little too bright and face a little too open.
"Massimo was a very good man, and stood by me even through quite troubling times in my life. I must think a lot of you to allow you use of his family name." He shifted through some of the other papers that came with his letter before shrinking the forged transcripts and slipping them into his robe pocket. "You do look a bit like he and his wife," he mumbled, seemingly to himself.
"I will introduce you to the headmaster, as instructed, and we'll see about getting you sorted. Then, we'll see about your quarters. I'd like for you to know that regardless of whatever house you are sorted into, you will always be welcome in my office. I am here for your guidance and support. If you are an need of anything, my door will always be open to you, my dear…goddaughter."
She smiled as his obvious attempt at tasting the word on his tongue. "Thank you, Uncle Albus. I will be taking you up on the offer."
"You may, when appropriate, just call me Albus." He quieted, the cheery look leaving his eyes as he fell into a thought. Finally, he announced, "Tom Riddle is a very troubled boy, Miss Granger. He is, I suspect, already on the road to becoming a dark wizard. I must caution you to him, and implore that you come to me if there is ever an emergency. I know you are aware of what he becomes, and have been warned against any of his charms, but you haven't any idea about who he really is right now. I would say it is in your best interest to complete your task with as little intimacy as possible. I know you are your own, strong person; but, he doesn't let go of what he deems his."
"Thank you for the advice, sir."
He rose from his seat and moved around the desk, gesturing for her to follow him with a twinkle in his eye. "Now, let's see to it, Mimi. I'm sure you're exhausted. But first," he waved his wand to clean her of the dye and transfigure her clothes into appropriate Beauxbatons attire, as per her cover story.
As they walked through the castle, Hermione found herself charmed at how it was still the same. It was unnervingly warm though, and she listened as the Professor explained that everyone in the castle had grown accustomed to the stuffiness. The school wouldn't officially open for another six days, which means the heavy cooling charm wouldn't be applied until then. They reached the office and were greeted warmly, if a little oddly, by Headmaster Dippet.
He eyed Hermione with curiosity as she seated herself primly on the edge of her chair, holding herself as though she were Fleur Delacour, nose slightly in the air. He and Dumbledore chatted politely, Dippet asking how his time in France had gone. This, of course, had been Hermione's in. In truth, he had been looking for Grindelwald during his stay, but now he would inform the headmaster that he'd gone to collect his goddaughter.
At this, Dippet happily exclaimed, "A goddaughter!" He chuckled as his own brashness, "And such a lovely one, at that, Albus. Might I ask who your intended is?"
Having spent many holidays in France during her childhood, Hermione was able to accent her words with a gentle one as she spoke, "As he is dead, I don't believe that his name is of importance, Monsieur Dippet." Conscious of dropping the T on his name, she gave him a terse smile. She should have begun to practice it far earlier; now, she was counting the seconds until it became second nature.
His face dropped in shock, and his eyes quickly fell on his professor, who was staring at him gently behind his crescent glasses. "There is much we have to discuss, my friend."
"Indeed," the headmaster snapped his fingers and tea service appeared. He poured for all of them, politely asking the girl how she took it before settling back and glancing between the pair for an explanation.
Hermione swallowed nervously, "I'll start, Uncle. If it becomes too much," she let her voice trail off and he nodded his consent –if he needed to speak of his own history, he would. "My name is Mimi Granger, and I am the last member of my own family, as well as the family I was to marry into. After my fiancé's family denied Grindelwald access to their accounts, he killed everyone. I was," she allowed her voice to break, "I was at a friend's house when the ambush 'appned, about a fortnight ago. When I was informed of the event, the French Ministry put me into protective custody until someone was contacted on my behalf, due to the fact that I am still in school. Beauxbatons offered to keep me safe, as my family had become very close to Madame, but I no longer wanted to remain there. I wanted," she sniffled sadly, "I wanted to be closer to someone I knew and trusted. I knew, from mon papa's story of this school, that this place is supposed to be as safe as Beauxbatons, so I asked the Minister to contact Uncle Albus, as he is my parrain, on my behalf."
"The Ministry is keeping the occurrence under wraps, Headmaster, due to the fact they are trying to keep attention off of Grindelwald in attempt to deter him," Albus explained. He pulled the shrunken transcripts he'd sent himself out and resized them, sliding the stack over the desk. "I could not deny my goddaughter, as it was her father's request that I take her in if anything were to happen to he and his wife, or their first surviving choice."
"And has something happened to them as well?" He asked quietly.
"You will find that you know Mimi's family name," Albus boasted. If he was honest with himself, he couldn't wait to see the reaction of finding out the family was still around –even if they weren't, he supposed, though Hermione did remind him a great deal of his dead childhood friend.
"Forgive me, but the name Granger rings no bells."
"It is an alias. It was…unsafe for me to be known as a Montague. Of course, it is now unsafe to be a Granger, so I'm not sure if an alias is doing me any good." She smiled softly at his shocked expression, as the Montague family was the oldest in Wizarding Italian history, and they'd passed away nearly ten years ago, after refusing Grindelwald. Fumbling in her robes, she pulled out her family necklace and cast a quick revelio to display the gemstone necklace her 'mother' had made quite popular during her youth, both of which the Dumbledore of her time had given her in order to solidify her story.
The Montague family necklace was as simple as it was priceless; the chain was made of delicate looking gold from Thailand, shining brightly as it fell over her collar and down her breastbone to the center of her chest; nestled safely by her heart rested the golden M, with a small black diamond in it's final bottom edge, beneath the family emblem of a snake and swords. The second necklace circled her neck loosely, and the world knew of it being the first gift Massimo had given Myrine; set prettily to match the family jewelry, the necklet consisted of nicely sized sapphires, which had been her family stone, each individually surrounded by tiny, black diamonds, which had been the Montague stone. It was a delightful piece that spoke not only of the value he'd placed on the young Greek girl, but the fortune of the family as well. Hermione found herself charmed by them, they made her feel the part she had to play, the weight of them reminding her of her duplicity.
Silently, she charmed the gemstones invisible and tucked the emblem back into her robes.
"It's an honor to meet the last surviving Montague. How you all have managed to keep such a secret for so long is incredible." Dippet was obviously both awed and dumbfounded, and Dumbledore hoped that would allow them to take their leave soon.
"Surely, you'll see the importance of keeping this absolutely, silent, Headmaster. We do not want to endanger Mimi within the walls of what is to be her sanctuary."
"Of course, of course," he straightened up, but the look of awe never left his eyes. "Well, lets see about getting you sorted, Miss Granger. I'm sure you would like to get some rest." He made himself busy by getting up for the hat while Hermione and Dumbledore shared a look of success. "Now, this won't hurt; it helps to place you in a house with like-minded people. They will be here to support you during the school year; like a second family, if you will. Now, if I may," he placed the hat on her head and both men stared curiously at her as the pair discussed her possibilities.
Well isn't this a pleasant surprise, Hermione, the hat mused. I have been waiting on your return. So much you've learned in Gryffindor…despite the lack of proper stimulation. Hmmm, I see, quite the task you've been given. I cannot wait to see-well, that will come later. Do you have any requests, witch? Ah, Slytherin. I see. Yes, that would be the most obvious…though I should say that you would be of more value in Ravenclaw. Oh, not this discussion again. Well, all right, those snakes are yours after all, Miss Montague, "Slytherin!" The Hat finally announced after a dark chuckle within her head.
Dippet smiled to himself, "Quite a fine house, indeed. Albus, would you mind showing Miss Granger to her common room? Forgive me if I rely too much on you; I'm quite happy to see you with a family member, even if the circumstances are unfortunate."
Dumbledore smiled, "Of course not, Headmaster. Though, I was hoping to discus the possibility of Mimi receiving her own quarters within the House, for her own safety and privacy."
"Absolutely. We wouldn't want, well, we won't speak of such things. We want nothing but your comfort while here at Hogwarts; you need only ask if you require anything. Perhaps on the walk to her rooms, Albus, you can discuss classes, and we can set them up before dinner.
"We will have the Head Girl and Boy here by dinner this evening, and they will be here preparing themselves for the upcoming semester for the rest of the week. Perhaps you will meet the Head Boy in your commons, as he is also Slytherin," he clapped enthusiastically before walking them to the door. "I will put him in charge of accompanying you to pick up your school things in Hogsmeade. They are limited in what they offer, but they do have the basics, and a lovely seamstress, if I do say so. That is, if you are okay with it, Albus. I do know your distrust of Tom, but he is a fine boy."
"I trust he will not dishonor my goddaughter. That will be fine. If we see him, I will inform it," Albus offered Hermione his arm and they proceeded down the staircase and toward the Great Hall.
The walk down the main staircase to the dungeons brought a chill to the air, and Hermione found herself dropping the cooling charm she'd previously casted. She and the professor made small talk as they journeyed, both stopping by the office of the Slytherin Head of House, Professor Slughorn, so that he may meet his new student. He fell to her charm instantly, and the pair continued on.
"There is no password required to access the House before the semester begins, however I will show you how to set one for your rooms. Perhaps," he stopped short as the stones slide apart in welcome and Hermione was instantly hit by how grand the common room was. It was like stepping into a truly gothic castle. The Black Lake was visible, as one wall was made of glass that helped to provide natural light (though it was quite limited) while torches lit what was left untouched by it. She was so distracted by the dark beauty of it all that the young man occupying a study table went unnoticed.
"Yes, good. Good afternoon, Tom. I hope that your holiday went well," Dumbledore spoke slightly coldly, which shocked Hermione.
"Of course, Professor. As well as always." The young wizard replied with just as much coldness. He rose from the table and eyed Hermione as he neared them. She found herself swallowing a few times, forcing herself to remember that she had no reason to fear him, as she didn't actually know who he was yet. Besides, she was a pureblood. By his own standards, he was beneath her. The thought made her smug.
He offered his hand to her, "Tom Riddle, Head Boy. You must be Mimi Granger." As she slipped her hand into his, he gave her an incredibly handsome smirk and placed his lips on her knuckles charmingly. They were warm against her suddenly cool skin. "The headmaster just left the Floo. Slytherin House is happy to have you."
"Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Riddle. It'snice to meet you."
"Shall I show you to your rooms, then? They are down the hall from my own."
"I will show her, Tom. Please wait here. I have a few things to discuss with you while she gets settled," without a pause, Albus led Hermione up the staircase nearest to the door.
At the top of the steps, Tom's door appeared first, his initials pressed upon the silver plaque in a deep green coloring. They continued down the short hall, nearing the glass wall, and found Hermione's door with her initials already on it. The quartet of M's appeared artistically, and she ran her fingers over them.
"To set the password, please place your wand atop the plaque; yes, that's it. Now the rooms are keyed to your magic. Now, set your hand upon the knob and speak the password. To reset them, just repeat the process."
She did as she was told, deciding easily to make this month's password Crookshanks. With a small smile, she bid farewell to Dumbledore, and stepped inside. It was large and cold, and she quickly determined that she would be redecorating. Being in Slytherin she could tolerate, but this was another story. Quickly, she set to work of making herself at home.
The less time to linger on the fact that she and Tom Riddle were the only people in the commons, the better.
Her room was bathed in darkness when she awoke, causing her to point her wand at one of the torches and whisper the charm that set them all aflame. It made quite the difference, despite the darkness of the Black Light seeping into her living space. The changes she'd made, such as bathing the room in creams and pastel greens –in attempt at house pride-, brightening the wood and giving the stone a power wash to lighten it.
With a stretch, she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, which she'd updated to the new standards of her room, to freshen up. Dinner would be soon, and she found that she was quite hungry. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she redid her French braid before casting an Accio to get a pair of light trousers, a camisole, and her transfigured, Beauxbatons robe. Feeling the part of a French-raised pureblood (simplicity had always been an important part of their lifestyles, she'd once read), she stepped out of her bathroom and let out a yelp of surprise.
"Mon dieu!" She exclaimed, staring at the Head Boy with wide eyes.
He was sitting at the foot of her bed, on the bench she'd transfigured her empty trunk into. He smirked pleasantly, as though it were a natural reaction to smirk rather than smile at people, and Hermione found herself growing incredibly uncomfortable. How on earth had he entered her rooms? Slowly, he rubbed his hand over the soft fabric of the bench.
"I don't believe my rooms come with such a piece."
"Vat are you doing in my rooms!" She summoned her wand, but didn't raise it. You mustn't make yourself into a threat…
"You left your door open, Miss Granger, I assumed it was an invitation." He rose fluidly, "I see now that it was not. Please, forgive me. I meant no harm. I simply wondered if you'd like a short tour on the way to dinner."
She looked suspiciously at him, not buying it for one moment. He seemed not to notice her distrust, and she silently thanked Snape for his teachings. "That is very kind of you, Monsieur Riddle," she stepped toward him, checking her wristwatch. The gold shined and black diamonds sucked in the light, drawing his attention. "We still have a bit of time before we are to be there."
"It'd be unkind of me to leave you unaccompanied, Miss Granger. Perhaps you'll join me in the common room for tea?"
"Magnifique," she gave him a beautiful smile, and guarded her mind. Whatever Dumbledore had said to him left him curious. Good, she thought, he should be.
Upon settling in the common room, both in the comfortable armchairs by the fire, which he charmed aflame before using magic to get the seats to face one another, the service appeared on a small table between them. He served, interestingly enough, and she noticed that had quiet the sweet tooth.
"I suppose you are Muggleborn, then. Riddle isn't a name I'm aware of," she spoke lightly, going in for the kill. Afterwards, she sipped her tea daintily, as though discussing the weather.
He actually froze at her callousness, and took the moment to study her, although he'd already done so as she'd slept. She was quiet pretty, with large, chocolate eyes and a pert nose. Her lips were a natural red, as thought she chewed on them seconds before, and her skin was nicely tanned, likely from her summer holiday in France. Her hair, despite him having only seen it in the braid, was a mixture of shades of brown, thick, and curly. He'd seen some girl's hair come to life with their magic was potent, usually, once a month, on the same day their beauty was strongest, and he figured that hers would look quite lovely in that state. She looked good, which is why her comment unnerved him, which also made him feel quite stupid, and in turn upset. Of course she wasn't good.
"I could say the same of your own, Miss Granger," he kept his cool for a moment. Relaxing into his chair, he resumed the tone and aloof expression he used on his followers, "I thought perhaps we could bask in the glory of being all-powerful half-bloods."
"Why would you assume that?" She set her cup down carefully and folded her hands over her knees, ankles crossed. Draco, who'd defaulted to the Order about half a year ago, would tell her that her pureblood was showing, if he were to see her now. The thought made her happy, and she allowed the corners of her lips to turn up teasingly.
He didn't looks very impressed with her. Instead, he looked as though he was considering how to eliminate her."Forgive, Miss Granger, but did I do something wrong?"
"Beside enter my rooms without consent?"
"For which I apologized."
She sighed and got up, "Thank you for the tea and stimulation, Monsieur. It was very kind for someone such as yourself."
He had her pinned to the wall instantly, finally upset by her disrespect. His wand was positioned like a knife against her neck and the heat of the fire seemed to burn through her silk fabrics. "How dare you disrespect me, you little no name girl? Have you no sense?"
"I suggest you release me. This is hardly becoming behavior for an 'ead Boy."
"Drop the act, ma Cherie," he pressed his wand harder and she felt it slice her skin. Idly, she realized his thumb was against her pulse point, as though he was hoping to feel to the quickening of her heartbeat, and she resisted snorting. "There are no Wizarding families of such a name. Claiming that Dumbledore is your godfather? That your family was killed by that fool of a dark wizard?" He laughed harshly, not believing any of the stories he'd heard. "Why would he care for you?"
Hermione found herself worried. She knew he was a man of facts, and she'd given him none. Logically, he'd be disbelieving of the hearsay, specially coming from Dumbledore, who meant nothing to him, and Dippet. However, it'd be difficult to prove she was a pureblood until the Malfoy arrived. She couldn't be sure that Voldemort would know who the Montague's were, but his followers would. Draco had assured her that if no one else, she would gain his grandfather's trust and respect if she showed him the emblem. Even in this time, a Malfoy's word was heavy. If he vouched for her, she had an in. Still, that wouldn't be for another six days. She didn't exactly want to worry about being manhandled at every turn.
"I don't know how you fooled the hat into this House, with your filthy blood, but you cannot fool me." He sneered, "Whatever standing you hold in the Muggle world will do nothing here."
"I'm afraid you don't know what you are speaking of."
He pulled away from her, straightening his school robes and eyeing her with a dark expression. "I gave you a chance, Miss Granger. You seek sanctuary from France, do you? You'll find none here," he spat coldly, turning towards the door.
"Meet me in front of the Great Hall in ten minutes, girl." With that, he swept out the common room. Hermione left herself fall into the chair he'd been occupying, charming the cut on her neck closed before messaging her temples. That hadn't gone well, at all.
Well, she thought grimly, I'm neither simpering nor a threat.
She was officially a target, and she had until the start of term to fix it.
Author's Note: Parrain means godfather in French; I'll drop little french words or sayings throughout the story (that should always be super easy to figure out), as well as change common letters to remind you all of the accent she's up-keeping.
Also, Montague is a completely made up family (I pulled the name from Shakespeare, but there is no connection, I just really like names with all one letter for the initials, and it seems to be kind of popular in the Wizarding world), Hermione won't be going by it, it simply helps to establish her as a pureblood, which is obviously vital for her task.
Hopefully you enjoyed the small amount of Tomione action! (: