Thank you to furface294, Relatela, Hermione Voldemort Riddle, MyCorruptedMind, Kmj, QuirkyPencil, Isabel and AmazingDetective for your reviews. I cannot reveal too much at the moment, but rest assured I have most of the plot planned out and your questions will be answered in due time.
Hermione will be substantially darker in this fanfiction, as will Tom as that is his natural personality.
Unfortunately not much happens in this chapter and it is a rather short one; I am sorry about that and promise that the chapters in succession will be longer. I hope you'll all still all stick with me and read on though!
Final Valedictory.
Hermione Granger was not weak.
No, she'd never been.
Throughout her years at Hogwarts, she had accomplished much more than the average witch would have in possibly a lifetime.
Hermione lay wide awake in her bed.
The moon glowed dimly, a fluorescent disc suspended in endless darkness, it's light trickling onto the windowsill.
She counted all the times she had risked everything for Harry and Ron.
Hermione remembered her first year. She was simply overjoyed when she learned that she was a witch and immediately took to reading thoroughly through all the books that were listed to be learnt that year not only once, but …..thrice and remembering every single detail in them too. However, Hermione also knew she hadn't made the greatest first impression on her fellow students that year, and most had found her to be unfriendly and a know-it-all. That had all changed after she, Harry and Ron had together taken down the mountain troll and on that very day, had forged an everlasting friendship. She smiled at the memory. That was the first.
Her first year wasn't altogether an uneventful one though; she had risked being expelled through participating in Harry and Ron's activities. That was the second. Back in those days, her education was everything to her and her greatest fear had been expulsion from school.
Hermione chuckled at her childhood naivety.
But she had also solved Professor Snape's potion logic puzzle, and played an essential part in stopping Professor Quirrell from obtaining the Philosopher's stone. That was the third.
Hermione slowly rose, fully clothed, collected her bag and slipped out of the dormitory.
She then recalled her second year and shivered. Yes, that was the year she had nearly died after being petrified by the basilisk. Having been gifted a brilliant academic mind, she had been the first to figure out that the Chamber of Secrets had been open, naturally, but this discovery itself was not without consequences. That was the fourth.
Hermione briefly thought of her third and fourth year and by then she had lost count.
She had been essential to Harry's successes right from the beginning.
They would possibly not still be alive had it not been for her.
It was when she thought of fifth year, that she gritted her teeth. She had been refused admittance when the Order of the Phoenix had been reformed. How could they! Naturally she was furious. Harry, of course, had been accepted; it was to be assumed in accordance to his special status as 'the boy who lived' and the wizarding world's only hope at defeating Voldemort. Hermione was fine with that. But when even Ron and Neville were announced as part of the order, but not she, she was shocked to say the least.
Hermione had immediately taken up her case with Dumbledore. Much to her chagrin, she had run right into a meeting between Snape and Dumbledore that day. Hot-faced, and heart full of fury, she'd demanded to be allowed into the Order. Snape had outright refused her, claiming her skills to be lacking, though admitting she had more brains than a hippogriff, but what enraged her even more was that Dumbledore had agreed and said that it "was in her best interest" that she did not participate in the order's activities.
She knew what they were implying. They thought her skills unfit for the battle field.
Well, that was what she assumed anyway.
In a fit of anger at the memory, Hermione kicked the wall of the dark corridor beside her which resulted in a loud thud. Remembering what she was doing, Hermione cast mufliato and hastened her pace as she walked through the dark corridor, quickening to the point of running.
Finally Hermione reached the smooth green door which lead to her targeted destination; the girl's lavatory on the second floor.
Try as they might to stop her, she would help them and she would be useful; more skilled than they could possibly imagine.
She tapped the porcelain basin with her wand and absently felt the Slytherin carving on the side of the tap, its texture cool against her fingertips.
Hermione licked her slightly parted lips and smirked.
"Open."
