myTitle: Foreign Worlds
SPOILER WARNING: Um… Yeah. If you haven't read all seven books yet… Tsk, tsk, tsk. Shame on you.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything, except for this here magic lamp. Mmmm… It be a CHOCOLATE magic lamp, and it's all miiiine…
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, and sorry for taking so long with the third chapter. Alas, I'm writing (le gasp!) original fiction. Why must it happen to me:P
From the last chapter (in case you forgot):
Tom Riddle went up the stairs and Hermione followed him hesitantly, the red she had seen still in her mind. Tom knew something, or at least suspected it. There was no other reason why he was so determined to have her quiet. But what exactly was going on? With a little bit of luck, Dumbledore would tell her.
Hermione's favorite place at Hogwarts was not Dumbledore's office, but it might be a close third, after the library and the Gryffindor common room. The place was simply too interesting not to like it, full of odd contraptions and old headmaster portraits. But what was perhaps the most interesting thing of all was the headmaster himself.
Albus Dumbledore was an odd headmaster. He was old, yet full of life, and even Hermione would sometimes suspect he was loopy. Yet he was a great man, a powerful wizard, and the best headmaster that Hogwarts had ever seen. (And she knew this by fact—she had checked with Hogwarts, A History).
Yet today, Dumbledore was not himself. Or at least, he didn't seem like it. Hermione noticed that he looked troubled, and it worried her to no end. What could happen in Hogwarts that made its headmaster appear so anxious?
"Miss Granger, Mister Riddle. So nice of you to come," Headmaster Dumbledore greeted them as he motioned for them to sit down on the chairs before his desk. Both Hermione and Tom did so.
"Why have you called us, Headmaster?" Riddle asked coolly. Hermione looked at him, but he was betraying no emotion. It annoyed her to be the only one who didn't have a clue of what was going on.
Dumbledore sighed. He had only opened his mouth when Professor Snape entered the room.
"I've got the ring, Headmaster," Severus Snape informed him. Hermione was puzzled. What did a ring had to do with anything? She looked over at Tom, but he didn't look like he either recognized or didn't know about any ring.
"Of course, Severus. Thank you." Professor Snape walked up to Dumbledore's desk, giving Tom Riddle a calculating glance once he had gotten close enough. Hermione looked at Dumbledore just in time to see that he had done the same.
Snape left the ring on Dumbledore's desk, then left. To Hermione's intrigue, Dumbledore did not so much as touch the ring. It looked old, and dirty, but there was a clear "P" visible. Hermione doubted that the "P" stood for Percival.
"There is so much I have to tell you," Dumbledore said. He looked defeated and older than ever. "Yet there is so much I do not want you to know. So I will attempt to do a compromise. I will tell you just what is needed to convince you that you should go to where you two must go, and then I promise you that I will tell you the rest once you get there."
Hermione was puzzled, and opened her mouth to tell Dumbledore so, when Riddle interrupted her.
"I don't think you are speaking very clearly, Headmaster," he told him.
"I guess I'm not," Dumbledore agreed. "Allow me to explain…"
Dumbledore slowly stood up, and motioned to Hermione to get the ring, which she did. She twirled it in her fingers, and the gem that was incrusted in it gleamed.
"For twenty years, I have been keeping contact with a person who has asked me for my help. I do not yet fully understand how it is possible, but that person somehow knew about you, Tom." He nodded at his direction. Riddle didn't so much as move, but continued to stare at the wall behind Dumbledore's desk. "But it gets even stranger. You see, Mr. Riddle, Miss Granger—that person was me."
"What?" Hermione gasped, incredulous. "But how can that be, Headm—"
"Hush! Let him continue," Riddle silenced her, leaning his head a little closer to Hermione's, and without even noticing it, he moved his hand to her thigh as if to placate her. Hermione immediately moved herself away from him and sent him a glare. She saw Riddle's eyes darken significantly then.
"I understand your doubts, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with an eyebrow raised at the both of them. Their little fight hadn't gone unnoticed by him. "I did not believe it true myself, at first. Thought it had been all a strange dream. But it appears like those Chocolate Frog Cards have more magic than any of us imagined."
"You said you saw this in a Chocolate Frog Card," Hermione repeated, Riddle's previous instructions forgotten. Her tone questioned the Headmaster's sanity.
"I saw this in a Chocolate Frog Card, yes," Dumbledore said. "But that is not my point. My point is, there is another world in danger besides our own, and only you, Tom, can save it."
Tom Riddle did not look convinced. He merely raised an eyebrow at the Headmaster skeptically and asked, "Why was it necessary to drag Miss Granger into this, then, Headmaster?" The words carried more acid than Hermione thought he would dare use for a Headmaster.
"That, I cannot fully answer," Dumbledore admitted, though he looked like he knew more than he let on. "I could have chosen anyone else, but I must admit, I am more comfortable with Miss Granger accompanying you in your task to make sure that you do not—ah—stray…"
"Stray?" Riddle repeated. He did not look very happy.
"You must help my other self defeat a certain Dark Lord in his world, Tom," Dumbledore said. To Hermione, it all seemed gibberish. Perhaps the Headmaster was crazier than she had originally thought. "Only you can do it, and I think you know why."
"I don't," Riddle said simply. Challenging.
Headmaster Dumbledore sighed. "Very well," he said. He took his time fixing one of the headmasters' portraits before sitting back down. "Miss Granger, your task is to help Mr. Riddle as best as you can in figuring out how to defeat the Dark Wizard of my other self's time. You will be left in charge of the ring, which will transport you. Do not let Tom get a hold of it.
"As for you, Tom, you must remember that there are lives at stake besides your own." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes twinkled then, as though he was trying to communicate something to him that he could not say with words. "Act according to that responsibility."
"I don't get it, Headmaster," Hermione said. She ignored Tom Riddle's glare and went on. "Do you honestly believe what you have just said. It seems like nonsense, don't you think? I seriously doubt—"
"Yes, Miss Granger, it does seem like nonsense," Dumbledore agreed. "But think. Before you were eleven years old, did magic seem like nonsense to you?"
Hermione couldn't answer that truthfully without losing her argument.
"You must hold the ring and turn it three times," Dumbledore told her. "Meanwhile, think of a place where Lord Voldemort has just come back to the wizarding world after thirteen years of being thought dead."
"Must we go now?" Riddle asked. Hermione though he didn't look like he even wanted to go anywhere at all.
"I am afraid you must, there isn't much time left," Dumbledore said.
Both Hermione Granger and Tom Riddle got up. Hermione was still not believing any of it, but perhaps if she did what she was told, her headmaster would stop acting insane. She mentally cursed her lack of being able to bring Dumbledore to reason and held the ring on her right hand. Tom took her left one.
"I don't suppose you want to go alone, do you?" He asked her. There was a faint trace of a smirk in his lips that didn't quite reach the rest of his face.
Hermione merely rolled her eyes at him, but then turned the ring while holding Riddle's hand nonetheless.
For what appeared to be only a slight second, Hermione felt nauseous. Yet it had to have been only her mind playing tricks on her, she told herself as she looked around the room. Dumbledore's office looked exactly the same.
"Nothing happened," Hermione said, letting go of Riddle's hand. Of course nothing had happened—Dumbledore had been speaking nonsense all along, and she knew it.
"Are you sure?" Riddle asked her. He sounded even bored. "The headmaster is gone."
There had been indeed something very odd about Dumbledore's office after the nausea. Hermione's instincts had instantly perceived it, though her mind had persisted on insisting that everything remained the same. Tom Riddle had obviously not been so close-minded.
"Where has he gone to?" she asked him, and there was a hint of irritation in her voice. Perhaps she expected Dumbledore had hidden behind a curtain or under his desk. It certainly made more sense to her than to believe they had traveled, not to a different time, but an entirely different and parallel universe. No understanding person could ever blame her for it.
Tom Riddle did get annoyed, though. "He's hidden behind a portrait," he said sarcastically. "Where do you think he is? We're not in the Headmaster's office anymore, Miss Granger."
Hermione stared at him. She clearly thought him mad. "Does this not look like the Headmaster's office to you?"
"Of course it does," Tom conceded. "But it isn't our Headmaster's office anymore. Or did you think that Headmaster Dumbledore was lying?"
"O-of course not," Hermione said, though she hesitated. She then proceeded in a whisper. "But he has obviously gone mad, hasn't he? To believe that a simple ring could take us to another place—"
"Ah. Miss Granger! I see that it has worked."
Professor Dumbledore interrupted them by entering his office, and Hermione flushed a deep red. She hadn't expected him to show up so suddenly. And how had he been able to exit the room when she had not so much as seen him go near the door? No one could apparate in Hogwarts.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster," Riddle said politely.
"Tom," Dumbledore said, nodding his head towards the younger man in recognition.
Hermione was confused.
"I trust that you already know where you are."
"We do," Tom Riddle said. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but quickly shut it when Riddle grabbed her hand and squeezed it—a sign that she shouldn't talk at all.
"Good," Dumbledore said. "How much more do you know?"
"We are here to help you defeat a dark wizard. That is about all you told us."
"A—and I'm supposed to help Riddle," Hermione added. She had never felt so stupid, and mentally kicked herself when she realized that she was feeling—and probably acting—like this in front of Tom.
Tom Riddle glared at her then, but he said nothing.
"Excellent, excellent," Dumbledore said, nodding his head. "I think that should be sufficient for now. Now, you are welcome to stay here until we finish gathering the information we need, but there are certain rules you must follow: you mustn't allow anyone but yourselves to see you—anyone at all—you must not speak to anyone, and you must not leave your chambers.
"You will each have your own room, of course, next to each other. A house elf will lead you to them… And don't worry, the rooms are connected, so you will still be able to speak with each other. I have borrowed a cloak for you to be able to pass—but I am afraid that you must return it with the house elf, for it is not mine."
"But… Headmaster… Why can't we allow people to see us? I left Harry and Ron waiting and—"
"Do you not get it, Miss Granger?" Tom Riddle interrupted. He was doing his best to hide his impatience. "We are in a different world now. A different dimension."
Hermione stared at Riddle as though he had gone crazy, too. Albus Dumbledore let out a small chuckle.
"I was afraid that it would take you a while to believe me, Miss Granger. I am sorry, but I must ask you to simply trust me. For now. Tandy!"
A small house elf appeared out of nowhere and Hermione resisted the urge to give her Headmaster a look of disapproval. She had never liked the way the wizarding world treated the house elves.
"Lead Tom and Hermione to their chambers, please," Dumbledore said.
"Yes, Master! Right this way, please!"
"Don't forget the cloak," Dumbledore reminded them, as he handed Tom Riddle an odd cape. As they went to the door, Hermione looked back. Dumbledore's eyes weren't twinkling as they usually did when he waved them goodbye.
They were out of the office when Tom Riddle smirked and put on the cloak. Hermione didn't like the way it seemed almost obvious that she would have to get near to him to be able to hide under that cloak, too. Before she had made the decision to simply face that fact, however, an invisible hand had pulled her towards the place where Tom Riddle had once been and said wizard pulled the cloak up to allow her to enter. She squealed.
"Watch it, Riddle!" she spat at him, but he didn't seem to mind it.
They proceeded to follow Tandy through different corridors. Hermione spent most of the time they walked trying to focus on something that was not Tom Riddle. She had never been so close to him—she had never noticed he sort of smelled nice… Like cologne and… was that sugar!? No, that couldn't be sugar… Did she smell like sugar?
They passed a few students along the way. Tom had to hold Hermione back when Ginny Weasley passed them by, to stop her from trying to say "hi" to her. She had less trouble not paying any attention to him after that.
"We're here, Master and Missus!" Tandy said happily. They had reached a place Hermione had never seen before. The corridor was narrow, and there were only three doors there. In front of two of them, there were two keys.
Hermione looked at Tom and he looked back at her: a silent question of who should pick their room first. Tom Riddle raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to go ahead. Hermione almost told him how oddly gentlemanly that was of him.
She looked around them to make sure that there was no one nearby, and then got out from under the cloak and picked the door that was nearest to her. She took the key and opened the door, then got inside her room, though she didn't close the door.
As Hermione explored her new room—painted white, with a hint of grey and blue in the borders and decor—, Tom Riddle took his keys and opened his door, then gave the cloak to Tandy, who bowed and then disappeared. When Tom disappeared in his own room, Hermione closed her door and locked it, then she jumped to the full-sized bed—and nearly screamed when a door she hadn't noticed suddenly opened up, revealing Riddle on the other side.
"Can't you knock!?" Hermione snapped at him after he had made her gasp. Riddle didn't laugh, but he sure looked close to doing it.
"Of course I can. But why would I want to?"
Hermione glared at him.
If Tom Riddle didn't talk, Hermione Granger would certainly not start a conversation with him. She didn't even know what he was doing there, lying against the entrance that connected his room to hers. All he was doing was looking at her and It unnerved her.
"Your room is almost identical to mine," Riddle pointed out, as Hermione did her best to ignore him as she looked around the bedroom.
"I kind of suspected that. I think we're in some of the teacher's dormitories."
"I am guessing life as a Hogwarts professor isn't as interesting as it looks, then?" Riddle joked.
Hermione fought back a smile and turned her attention back to him. "I didn't know you joked."
"Nonsense. I joke all the time. You simply don't appreciate my sense of humor."
"You mean the sarcastic, cynical kind? I must admit I don't. I usually try to be nicer."
"Cynical or not, I think we should call a truce, Miss Granger," Tom suggested. Hermione didn't feel so comfortable when he took a couple of steps forward and into her room.
"A truce?" she asked him, taking a few steps towards the wall behind her. "Why should we call a truce?"
He stared at her. She didn't like those stares—it made her feel like there was something wrong with her. "We are going to be working together for what looks like quite a while. Is that not reason enough?"
"What would you gain with that?"
"I would get far less glares, for beginners."
Hermione bit back her reply for that.
Tom moved forward again, and she took even more steps back until she hit the wall. Riddle smirked, and moved towards her.
There was only about one foot between them now.
"I don't want a truce with you, Riddle."
He rolled his eyes. "For someone that is too rational to even fully believe the powers of magic, you can be quite stubborn sometimes, Miss Granger."
"I don't care," Hermione defended herself angrily, though she was blushing. "Sometimes it's just better to trust your gut."
"Oh, really?" Riddle spat. Hermione could have sworn she saw a hint of that red again. "And what does your gut say about me?"
She was startled. She hadn't expected him to act that question.
"That—that you're—"
What was it? There was something about Tom Riddle that bothered Hermione more than she was bothered by Malfoy, by Snape, or by any other Slytherin prat. And it wasn't just that he was smart—perhaps even smarter than her—or that he was often considered a better student… though that helped. It wasn't the teasing, though she hated it, nor the fact that merely being near him made her feel strangely sick. It was something more, though she couldn't quite put a finger on it…
Their eyes locked, and for some strange reason, Riddle seemed to understand even better than she did.
"You think I'm evil," he stated simply. He looked calm enough, though he really wasn't. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see the lamp next to her bed shaking.
What was wrong with this guy?
"E-excuse me?" she asked in disbelief.
"Evil," repeated Riddle, and there was something in the coolness of his voice that made her have chills running down her spine. "All of you seem to think it. To be honest, I had not really thought of you as capable of believing such crap."
She stared at him then and stood still, though her heart was racing. "Is this a joke?"
Riddle raised an eyebrow. He was giving her a look that looked full of loathing. "Yes, it must be. Stupid Hermione Granger."
He was smarter than to give his back to her, though it was clear the conversation was over. Or at least, he had intended it to be over—but Hermione would have none of that.
She slapped him in the face.
"Be careful who you call stupid, you moron, you jerk, you—self-obsessed prat!" She screamed at him. A part of her was surprised that the lamp hadn't exploded then. Tom really just looked startled. "Just because I follow the rules of logic doesn't mean I'm mentally impaired! Or do you think that magic has no laws simply because it's magic? Am I stupid because I follow the rules, or because I make sense? How on Earth did you managed to be the top of your class with your twisted regard to logic!? Don't you dare call me stupid again, or I will hex you!"
Riddle opened his mouth, then closed it—and instantly hated himself for showing hesitation. It took him less than a second to compose himself, however, and answer her. "You will hex me?" he asked calmly, as though Hermione was far less angry and they were simply talking about the weather. "With what wand?"
Hermione's eyes instantaneously fell on the wand she had foolishly left on the bedroom—an unconscious act. She certainly didn't remember making the decision to leave it there, but it had become a habit back in her dorms that proved to be simply too hard to break.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione Granger," Riddle said, and with a wave of his hand, he left. Surprisingly enough, all signs of his being mad at her were gone. Maybe he really was insane, Hermione realized. He certainly had the mood swings for it.
"See you tomorrow, crazy Riddle," was something Hermione would have liked to answer back, but she certainly didn't allow herself to form those words. She decided to simply say nothing at all instead.
When the door was closed, Hermione moved straight to the bed and picked up her wand. It would be the last time she left it alone, she vowed.
Somehow, it seemed as though she had finally managed to get herself into far more trouble than she could manage alone.
A/N- This chapter may not be good, as I forced myself to write it during early hours of the morning—or better yet, late hours of the night. I don't think it could have waited anymore; I mean, it's October! But it was so hard to write… Lucky for me, I've already written part of another chapter, and that wasn't as hard. Maybe I was just suffering a bit of writer's block when it came to this chapter.
Oh! And as always, don't forget to read and review! Reviews equal love, and they tend to force me to write chapters faster. :P I hope you're all liking the story so far.
(I've gotten a few reviews asking me to make Tom fall in love with Hermione, by the way. I'll just answer those by saying that this is a Tom/Hermione fic… ;D).
