Tom entered the Slytherin dungeons still thinking about the pretty girl up in Ravenclaw tower. It was true that he never really had any interest in girls before Hermione had arrived, choosing to spend his time reading or studying instead. He had big plans, and finding a girlfriend would not help him achieve any of them. Of course, he knew when a girl was pretty, but he never cared much for the girls his fellow Slytherin's would talk about. Hermione had more of a subtle beauty, but more importantly she was obviously very smart.
"Tom!" Evan called out from the one of the plush couches that were arranged around the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room. He was sitting with Ted, Albert, and Abraxas. "Did Hermione get settled into her room okay? Did she like it?" Evan questioned, seeming very nervous and concerned for his sister. It was odd, Tom thought, to see that Evan obviously cared for the girl so much, as it was so contrary to all of his interactions with his peers. Tom didn't think he'd ever cared enough about someone to want to ensure that they were settling in okay. Surely Hermione was capable enough to handle that on her own?
Still, he obliged him. "Yes, Evan, she was perfectly content. I believe her exact words were 'it's perfect!'" Tom replied, giving him a stilted, awkward smile in the hopes of reassuring his friend.
"Oh good. She has been nagging me to let her redecorate her room back home for weeks," Evan complained, getting some worry off his chest. "I just wanted to make sure she is feeling welcomed here because I know it will be a hard adjustment coming from Beauxbatons. Plus, with the death of our father..." Evan trailed off knowing that he was starting to sound like an emotional Hufflepuff. "Well, I had better go owl 'Ella to let her know everything is working out fine," he said, before he left the Common Room, running up the stairs to his dorm.
"So, Tom," started Albert once he was sure that Evan was out of earshot. "What happened with Hermione?"
"What do you mean what happened with Hermione?" Tom asked, clearly confused by his classmate's line of questioning. "I just showed her how to enter Ravenclaw tower, and showed her where her room was and then left," he said with a roll of his eyes, wondering what about that was so difficult for Albert to grasp.
"Of course," Abraxas said, not in the least bit snide. "I knew our Tom would never do something untoward to a girl. He is by far the best mannered Slytherin."
"Yeah, if I had walked Hermione to her room, I would have found excuses to stay there twice as long, maybe even sneak in a kiss if I could," Albert continued, leaning back into the couch. "Hermione is quite the slice. Forget walking in front of or next to that witch! I'd much rather walk behind her..." Albert trailed off with a devious smile on his face.
"Forget her arse," Ted piped in. Tom was relieved - of course his studious friend would not fall prey to talking about Hermione like she was a piece of meat, like Albert and Abraxas. But then, to Tom's utter disappointment, the boy continued. "I'd rather like to think about her long legs. I bet those would feel nice wrapped around you..."
"Even if the witch is beautiful, she still has one hell of a sassy mouth," Abraxas gave his take. "I could think of plenty other things to do with her mouth than let her backtalk me." Malfoy had a huge grin on his face, and the other two boys chuckled at their friend's thoughts. Malfoy always did have a disappointingly dim view of smart women.
"Don't talk about her like that!" Tom said before he could stop himself. All three Slytherins' faces fell at his anger, looking at him quite confused.
Abraxas was the first one to speak. "Don't tell me that you like her Tom?" he whined, an obvious edge to his voice. All three boys instinctively knew that Tom was their leader and they followed what he said. It was no secret that Tom Riddle got what he wanted. If he liked Hermione, well then...they wouldn't like Hermione.
Tom was just as perplexed by his outburst. He didn't care about what the three boys did with women but for whatever reason, hearing them talk about her that way just made his blood boil. "That is not for you to question, Malfoy," he said with a sneer. "I couldn't care less about the girl, but I don't need to sit her and listen to your banal drivel about her attributes. You won't speak of her that way because I told you not to."
Albert, Abraxas and Ted looked distinctly uncomfortable, and even a bit embarrassed. A frosty silence hung in the air between the four of them. Back peddling, Tom quickly added, "Besides, you wouldn't want to let Evan hear you talking like that or you will never get anything but sass from her mouth." He may not understand the reason that Evan looked after his sister, but he knew that their absent friend wouldn't appreciate to hear what they had to say about her.
His three "friends" all laughed, somewhat with relief, and Tom took his leave to the Head Boy room. Even though he'd commanded them to stop talking about Hermione so crassly, he couldn't deny that their words irritated him. He never had thought about having a girl wrapping her legs around his waist, or hell, even kissed a girl. Tom let out an angry breath.
He had lived seventeen years without girls bothering him or jumbling up his thoughts! He was angry, angry at Hermione; She was the source of all of this mess. He would stop thinking about her. Stop thinking about what it would be like to press his lips against hers. She was not a part of his plans. And that was final.
Hermione woke up the next morning with her new resolve. She would not be easily swept into this different era. She had sat up all night thinking things through and had come up with a tentative plan. After her classes today, she was going to talk to Professor Dumbledore, and then start reading up on time travel. She would get to the bottom of this and she would be transported back into her own time.
After showering and having Junie help her get ready, she made her way down to the Common Room. Thinking about the little house elf, Hermione was even more ashamed of herself, using forced labor and not even thinking twice about it. Hermione Granger never would have consented to house elf labor, but Hermione Rosier hadn't thought twice about it. She would like to talk to Junie about freeing her, but she was afraid that something like that was likely to get her committed to St. Mungo's if word got back to Druella or Evan. They would think she'd truly gone round the twist then.
When she arrived down from her room into the common room, there was a girl about her age waiting on one of the couches reading the Daily Prophet. The girl looked up when she heard Hermione coming down the stairs and stood up eagerly. With her pin-straight blonde hair and blue eyes, she reminded Hermione vaguely of Daphne Greengrass. Holding out her hand in greeting, the girl gave Hermione a huge smile.
"You must be Hermione," she said enthusiastically, shaking Hermione's hnad firmly. "My name's Gwen Bagnold."
Suddenly, Hermione remembered where she'd heard that name before. Millicent Bagnold had been the Minister of Magic, if only Hermione could remember when. "NIce to meet you Gwen. Are you by chance related to-"
"The Head of the DMLE? Yeah, Millicent Bagnold is my mum," Gwen said cutting her off. "I get that question a lot. But don't worry, I'm not a snitch. Drink all the butterbeer you want here in Ravenclaw - I won't turn you in," she said with a hearty laugh, which Hermione joined in on.
"That must be very nice, to have such an important mother," Hermione said wistfully, thinking of how people still sung the praises for Minister Bagnold in her time, unlike Minister Fudge. "Do you want to walk down to breakfast together?"
"I'll take you as far as the main staircase, but then I have to stop at Professor Merrythought's office to discuss a project," Gwen agreed. "Sorry I didn't get to meet you last night. I missed the Hogwarts Express. Mother had to arrange for me to Floo in this morning," she said with a bit of a blush. "I know it can be an odd transition when there are so few girls in Ravenclaw. And Myrtle's not really the most social of people."
"Why are there so few women in Ravenclaw?" Hermione asked. It was something that had been bothering her. "After all, Rowena Ravenclaw was a woman. It's not as if women are inherently less likely to possess the talents that warrant a sorting into the house."
"It wasn't always like this," the blonde said with a nod of agreement. "Part of the reason is that families are holding back their children, with the whole Grindelwald thing - especially the daughters. They think they can be educated just as well at home. But, I think a lot of our female classmates are less interested in school work and more interested in finding a husband. Not exactly something fair Rowena would have done."
Hermione made a small noise of agreement, realizing that she hadn't considered the effect Grindelwald would have had on school enrollment, but she supposed it made sense. "Well, I for one am proud to be a Ravenclaw," she said, growing more comfortable with her new house identity.
Gwen smiled and agreed with her. Before she knew it, they had made it to the staircase. "Alright, this is where I leave you. I'll see you around though," she said, giving Hermione one of those giant smiles again, before turning in the direction of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Hermione made her way down the staircase, grateful to have made what felt like a real friend. When she got to the Great Hall, she found Damocles waiting for her at the Ravenclaw table.
"Good morning, Hermione!" the shorter boy caught her attention, waving. Hermione smiled and made her way towards him, taking a seat next to him. Across the table, there were two other boys that she had yet to meet. They were obviously tall, and had strawberry blond hair with bright blue eyes, and looked exactly the same. "I want to introduce you to my two friends, Patrick and Dermot McGuinness. They are twins," Damocles said with a flourish of his hand.
Hermione's heart swelled. They reminded her so much of the Weasley twins, although their hair was more blond than ginger, and they were much paler than Fred and George. "Hello, I am Hermione." She introduced herself, though she was certain that everyone in this school likely knew who she was already.
"Pleased to meet you, Hermione," they chorused in their lilting, Irish accents. Her heart ached with how much it reminded her of Seamus, making her feel even more welcomed into Ravenclaw. She never thought that thinking of Seamus would make her feel at home. Shaking her head, Hermione reminded herself that it was good to have friends like Gwen, Damocles and the McGuinnesses, but reminded herself not to slip into complacency. This wasn't home, and she fully intended on returning to her own time.
She enjoyed having breakfast with the three boys. Patrick and Dermot were incredibly witty, and Damocles was very intelligent. She was sure that, had he been around, Professor Snape would have loved to pick his brain. He did seem to have a lot of exciting ideas when it came to potions. He had even agreed to be her partner in potions, her first class of the day. After Potions she had Arithmancy, then Charms. Transfiguration was her last class of the day, and Hermione intended to stay after. It would be the perfect time to talk to Professor Dumbledore.
Feeling better about her situation, Hermione settled in for the rest of the day. Potions went well, and Slughorn was his normal happy self, although Hermione found the curriculum to be dull and easy. During Arithmancy, she sat next to Evan. "I see you've made new friends," he said with a raised eyebrow.
Hermione laughed. "Yes, the boys have done a great job of making me feel at home in Ravenclaw. And I met Gwen Bagnold this morning. She was very sweet," Hermione answered honestly.
"Just remember, Hermione, that you are to look for a suitable husband," he reminded her.
She rolled her eyes at her brother, feeling utterly terrible for the real Hermione Rosier. "Honestly, Evan...are my suitors only allowed to be Slytherins? I didn't think you prescribed that that school of thought."
"Well, just don't make any plans for Hogsmeade this weekend. You will be accompanying Abraxas there. I was able to get him to agree to give you a second chance," Evan looked at her sagely, obviously feeling very proud of himself.
Hermione scoffed. "What if I don't want to give him a second chance? We both know that was hardly my fault! I couldn't just sit around and let Malfoy tarnish the name of Rosier!" Hermione again had no idea where this pureblood snobbery was coming from, but it was just spewing out of her mouth. It was a convenient cover, though, to have a reason to want nothing to do with Malfoy.
"Listen, I know Malfoy can sometimes be a snob, but that will not excuse your sass," Evan scolded her. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest like a sulky child, and paid attention to the lesson that was beginning.
After Arithmancy, Hermione had Charms. Although she had had other classes with Tom Riddle, in Charms she was forced to sit next to him. They didn't speak once throughout the lesson, but learned that they would be working a lot with each other. They were being assigned a semester long project with their seatmate. She internally groaned when the Professor announced that.
"Hermione, would you like to set up a time to meet to start brainstorming about our Charms project?" Tom asked on her way out.
"Yes, would after dinner in the library work for you?" Hermione asked, not terribly thrilled at the prospect of spending alone time with the future Dark Lord, but trying not showing it either. Hopefully Dumbledore would know how to help her, and she'd be out of the past quick enough to miss the project all together.
"Yes, that sounds good," Tom replied with a half smile. "Let me guess, you have Transfiguration next? I'll walk with you."
Hermione had no idea why he was being so friendly to her, but it made her uncomfortable. The more time she spent with the far handsomer Tom Riddle, the easier it was to think of him as a separate entity from Lord Voldemort. And, at this point in time, she didn't want to even think about that yet.
In Transfiguration, she was paired with a Gryffindor, Damon McLaggen. It should have made her feel more at home, being paired with someone in her real house, but unfortunately, it seemed that he had the same tendencies of his future descendant, Cormac. Damon kept staring at her and paid absolutely no attention to Professor Dumbledore. Once the lesson was over, Damon asked if he could walk her to dinner.
"Thank you for the offer, but I really must stay and chat with Professor Dumbledore for a moment," Hermione replied, uncomfortable around the bulky Quidditch player. He looked very disappointed and nodded curtly.
Dumbledore was standing behind his desk, shuffling some papers. He looked so different from the Dumbledore she was familiar with - not nearly as many wrinkles, and his long hair was still a lovely shade of auburn. "Professor, I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment?" she inquired.
Professor Dumbledore met her eyes with no twinkle in his eyes. "Yes, let's just make our way to my office," he answered dispassionately. Dumbledore led the way, they took seats on either side of the desk.
"I really don't know how to begin this, but you are the only one I can trust." Hermione bit her lip, trying to gather the courage to go on. "Well you see, the other day, I fell asleep in while I was studying in the library...I had a horrible dream that I had slept through Potions and my Potions master gave me a horrible punishment. I woke up rather suddenly, you see, and well...I woke up in the Rosier's house," she explained.
"But child, that is of course where you live." Dumbledore interjected.
"No, you see, Professor Dumbledore, I do not live there, because I am not a Rosier. I am Hermione Granger, a muggleborn daughter of two dentists, and I attend Hogwarts, but in the year 1997," she explained. "In my time, you've helped me get a time turner before, and I can't very well explain this to anybody else. You're my only hope get back."
"Miss Rosier," Dumbledore said, standing abruptly. "While I cannot begin to understand what fanciful thoughts and ideas run through your head, as I have never taught you before, so I know very little of your character or circumstance, it disturbs me more that you see me as your only hope. Surely, Miss Rosier, you recognize that I will be of no help to you. I have no idea why you would even begin to think that I would help a Rosier," he said, disdainfully. Dumbledore saw Hermione's face falling, but did nothing to calm her. "Surely your brother and the rest of those snakes will be adequate help for you to live out these ideas you have. You are quite lucky I don't suggest you go to St. Mungo's for an evaluation."
Hermione could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. She nodded, and stood, as Dumbledore held the door open for her, and she walked out. She just couldn't believe it! The one man that she trusted to be good and just seemed to have a bias against her for her heritage, and wouldn't even hear her out. It seemed so totally out of character for Dumbledore, but she supposed that many things could have happened in the fifty years between now and the Dumbledore she knew.
For the first time in a long while, Hermione felt completely isolated in this time. It seemed that she would have no one to turn to for help of guidance. Instead, it seemed that getting back to 1997 was going to be all on her.