Third person P.O.V.

Tom Marvolo Riddle didn't understand it. The head boy and girl were supposed to be the smartest and most hard working witch wizard in their year, but the stupid head girl had managed to fall off her broomstick and end up in the hospital wing, so he, being the head boy, had to do her patrol duty.

While she was tucked up and warm in the hospital bed with all her simpering, trophy wife best friends gossiping with her, he wandered the freezing corridors looking for any student dumb enough to roam around the school halls in the middle of winter.

If he caught any student tonight he would skin them alive, or perhaps just a simple crucio would do the trick.

As he walked along the bitter passageway Tom's thoughts returned to the potions essay that was due the next day. He had done it of course and would most likely be top of the class. Again.

But, there was always room for improvement. He was just thinking of adding another paragraph about the properties of wolfsbain when he rounded the corner.

Lying in the middle of the corridor was a girl in the skimpiest piece of clothing he had ever seen. It was only when as walked nearer that he noticed the pool of blood surrounding her unconscious body.

In moments like this, the good people of the world would dash forward to try and help this poor, helpless girl, but Tom Riddle was most definitely not a good person, he was bad to the bone.

He was busy deciding whether to just leave her here, or to cast a disillusion charm on her so that no one would find her when he heard footsteps.

Great just what he needed, someone to think that he did this to the girl, the only option left was to act like an innocent bystander.

Being careful not to get blood on his school robes Tom Riddle knelt down by the girl and whispered just loud enough for the person walking along the passage to hear, "Oh my God."

Shouting this time he called out, "help, somebody help!"

The footsteps were louder and faster now running towards him. Albus Dumbledore rounded the corner in his bright, colourful robes looking puffed at his short run through the stone passageway. Great thought Tom, Dumbledore would never believe that he had nothing to do with this, the old fool was desperate to get him expelled for some reason or other.

"Oh dear Lord," Dumbledore whispered as he took in the sight of the girl on the ground. "Tom," he said quickly go alert Medi-witch that we have a sever case coming into the hospital." Dumbledore's usually cheery voice was low and urgent. Tom stood up and took the short walk to the Hospital wing, alerting the young stout medi-witch of the strange girl who would be needing urgent attention.

As he turned to leave professor Dumbledore ran in carrying the girl in his arms. Tom was heading towards the large oak door way when he heard the medi-witch say to professor Dumbledore,

"Dear God Albus I have never in all my years if training seen so many dark curses used on one person, I don't even know the name of half of these."

This spiked Tom's interest.

Medi-witches were trained to know every dark curse invented, and yet here was this girl who had suffered dark curses that even the medi-witch didn't know of.

Interesting.

"And look at all this blood, it looks like she's just stepped off a battle field" the Medi-witch continued. "She's been tortured to."

"Can you help her?" asked the professor.

"I can try," replied the medi-witch doubtfully.

Un-noticed, Tom continued to watch both the professor and the elderly medi-witch working over the unmoving body of the girl. For several minuets they worked casting spells and feeding her potions until they both pulled back faces sombre.

"All we can do now is wait, and hope," whispered the professor.

After waiting for several moments while the medi-witch and professor cleaned up and departed, Tom left the shadows and walked up to the girl.

Up close Tom Riddle realised that she was very small and petite, she would probably only come up to his shoulder, if that. Her hair, now clean of blood and grime, was a beautiful chestnut colour that rolled down her shoulders in curly waves. Her blood red lips contrasted with her porcelain white skin, in truth she had beauty, but a natural sort, not plastic and fake like the other girls in the school.

His pale hand slowly reached out to touch her cheek. Expecting it to feel cold and lifeless, he got a shock at the warmth emitting from her skin.

Tom watched in shocked fascination as her eyes slowly started to blink open, quickly he walked back into the shadows, not wanting to be caught staring at her.

The girl slowly sat up and stared around her in confusion. Then she pinched herself, 'odd', he thought, then she started muttering to herself, 'this girl was clearly deranged' Tom thought to himself.

With slow, shaky hands she pulled back the covers of her iron hospital bed and attempted to get out and stand which resulted in her collapsing on the ground.

Tom smiled to himself, she was obviously weak just like every other girl he had met at this school. He expected her to just sit on the floor and cry, waiting for someone to come and carry her back to her bed, just the sort of thing women did.

~.~

Hermione had awoken to the feeling of someone stroking her cheek but when she went to sit up she saw no-one.

'Odd', she though 'I could of sworn I felt someone touching me.'

Shaking off the feeling of being watched Hermione looked around and realised that she was in what appeared to be the hospital wing.

Harry and Ron.

Her first thoughts were for her two best friends, did the spell work? Were they okay? Where were they now? And more importantly, where was she? If it was Hogwarts after the final battle, the hospital wing would be littered with wounded and dead, but there was no-one in sight.

'Maybe, I'm dead,' thought Hermione and pinched herself just to be sure.

"Okay, first things first" Hermione whispered to herself, "I have to find Harry and Ron but before that I have to figure out where I am."

Pulling back the papery sheets she slid her legs over the edge of the bed but when she tried to stand her legs gave out under her and she collapsed to the floor, 'not a very promising start' she thought to herself.

Hermione wouldn't give up though. Grabbing hold of the bed railing she pulled herself up into a standing position.

"Thank the Lord you're all right," came a high pitched voice. Spinning round quickly Hermione caught sight of an over-weight jolly looking women in a white apron who was rushing at her with her arms outstretched, seconds later Hermione was engulfed in a warm motherly hug. She would of felt safe if it weren't for the fact she didn't know this woman.

"Where are Harry and Ron?" Hermione asked before the woman could continue.

"Who dear?" asked the women, Hermione was just about to ask the question again when she was interrupted by the large oak doors swinging open to allow professor Dumbledore into the Hospital.

"Ahh, Albus look she is awake," cried the Medi-witch. Albus not Professor Dumbledore he was, he was dead, wasn't he?

"Yes Poppy, I can see that, could you please fetch the young lady some pepper-up-potion, I'm sure she'll be in need of some, don't you think?" asked Albus.

"Of course, how silly of me, I'll be back in soon," she said while trotting off out the oak doors that the professor had entered from.

~.~

From the shadows Tom watched all of this happen, he was amazed when she had pulled herself up from the ground when he had expected her just to give up. He desperately wanted to hear what she was saying to the medi-witch and the professor but from where he was standing all he heard was the occasional mumbled word and he daren't go closer for fear of being caught.

Walking silently backwards Tom Marvolo Riddle slipped behind a tapestry that disguised a secret passage and left to return to his common room to ponder on the appearance of this strange girl.

She could be useful, from the short time that he had watched her he could already conclude that she was determined, strong willed and that she had dabbled in the dark arts all of the three things he considered to be important.

But then again, she may just be another useless trophy wife.

~.~

"Of course, how silly of me, I'll be back in soon," she said while trotting off out the oak doors that the Professor had entered from.

"Now," said Professor Dumbledore, "I think you have some explaining to do young lady. You are obviously not attending Hogwarts so how did you get into the school? We have many wards and spells protecting outsiders from just waltzing in here, so how did you succeed in passing them? " Professor Dumbledore looked at her quizzically.

"I…I…Um," stuttered Hermione, she didn't think she had heard any of what the formerly dead professor had said, she was still trying to get over the fact that he was alive and standing here in front of her. "I…I…Um," she repeated again.

How could Professor Dumbledore not remember her, she was Harry's best friend for goodness sake? Unless, something clicked in Hermione's brain, could she be, no it was to stupid to even think about but there was always a possibility

"What year is it Professor Dumbledore Sir?" asked Hermione.

"Well, it's 1944," replied Professor Dumbledore.

"1944," whispered Hermione before everything went black. Again.

Before the girl could hit the floor Dumbledore had dashed forward and caught her. Slowly lifting her, he placed her back in iron bed and started to feed her the rest of her pepper-up-potion in the hopes of reviving her. With a flutter her eyes opened.

"Back to business," said the Professor after he had made sure she was comfortable and not going to pass out again.

"You know my name, but I do not know yours," said the Professor.

"Well Sir," replied Hermione, "My name is Hermione Granger and I come from the year 1998."

"Ahh, well that explains why you fainted then," said Professor Dumbledore. "But I must ask, what are you doing 54 years in the past?" he continued.

Hermione opened up the flood gates and told the now living Professor Dumbledore everything. She told him about Harry and his story, she told him about getting accepted into Hogwarts and how she had made friends with Harry and Ron after the incident with the troll, Hermione told him all about the Philosophers Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black, the Tri-wizard Tournament the Order of the Phoenix and hunting for Horcruxes and last the final battle and how she had cast the spell to save Harry.

Throughout her speech the Professor did nothing but listen and at the end he stayed quiet, turning over everything that he had just learnt, at last he said, "Well Miss Granger, it seems that the Agamendos spell called you to this time place for a reason, I will do my best to find a way to send you back to your own time, but I suspect that the you have a certain job to do and that the spell will let you go home once you have completed job.

"Thank you Professor," smiled Hermione. "What do I have to do to get back?"

"Only you know the answer to that my dear, you have to figure that out, also your time will not move forward, it will be frozen, waiting for you to return. Anymore questions?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Good now I have a question for you Miss Granger, Voldemort, you said he wasn't always called that, what was he know as before he changed his name?"

"Riddle, Tom Marvolo Riddle," hissed Hermione, her voice layered with malice.

"I may have an idea at what you are meant to do in this time Miss Granger. Tom Riddle is currently in his final year at Hogwarts and"

"I have to kill him!" squeaked Hermione.

"No, of course not my dear, bad things happen to wizards who mess with time, but I think you should try and find out as much information as you can about him, any information from his plans to his personality traits may be able to help you win the war" said Professor Dumbledore.

Hermione sat still soaking in all of information 'it shouldn't be hard' she told herself, 'just take a few note then go home, easy.'

"Which year would you be in Miss Granger?" Asked the Professor

"My seventh," she replied.

"And what house were you sorted into?" Asked Dumbledore.

"Gryffindor,"

"My house," smiled the professor, "but I'm afraid, if you want to get close to Mr. Riddle Gryffindor is not the house to do it from, when you get sorted in the Headmasters office tomorrow allow the sorting hat to see your plan, it should place you in Slytherin.

Hermione nodded taking it all in.

"My, my you look dead on your feet, I won't keep you up any longer I will visit tomorrow and we shall sort out your story and new identity." said the Professor. Standing up he moved towards the oak doors.

"Goodnight Miss Granger."

"Goodnight Professor."

As the doors closed Hermione snuggled down and tried to get some sleep, she would need it tomorrow she would start spying on the teenage Lord Voldemort, a task that filled her with dread.