Chapter 7:

Down in the Dungeons

...

Hermione's breath quickened as she walked briskly down the cool, dimly lit dungeons leading towards the Slytherin common room. What is wrong with me? She wondered miserably, while feeling around with her hands for the stone pillar that bore the entrance to the Slytherin lair.

Riddle was being perfectly normal—by Dark Wizard standards anyway, and then I had to open my stupid mouth and make him hate me –

Hermione cursed loudly as the Bloody Baron glided through the solid wall and swooped right through her, giving Hermione the feeling of having an entire ice-cold bucket of water doused on her head.

Shivering, the small brunette's eyes followed to where the Baron came from.

"That's it!" she whispered triumphantly. "That's where the blasted entrance is. Now what's the blasted password?" Her heart sank as she remembered that only Slytherins knew what the password was.

Hermione cursed again and thought miserably that she may as well spend the rest of the evening in the library looking through the thousands of dusty, leather bound volumes.

"At least that's where I belong," she said firmly to herself, trying to stave away the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Hermione suddenly felt a wave of loneliness that she hadn't felt since her first year when she hadn't made any friends yet. She needed Harry and Ron and couldn't remember the last time that they were out of yelling distance from her.

Hermione sniffled and felt tears running down her cheeks.

'I miss them,' she realised, wringing her hands together. 'I miss not being able to talk to anyone, I miss the Gryffindor common room, I even miss Lavender and Parvati, oh, I miss home!' Hermione heaved a great sob and turned to head towards the dungeon entrance.

SMACK!

The next thing she knew, Hermione saw numerous bursts of light. Disorientated, she shook her head a couple of times, like a dog trying to rid water and bugs from its ears.

"Are you alright there?" asked a friendly voice.

Hermione still envisioned little stars in front of her eyes, but blinked nonetheless to look up into a pair of friendly blue eyes. She felt her jaw drop.

"S-Sirius?" she gasped, looking at the seventh year boy with dark hair and a boyish grin.

The boy looked confused, even though his grin was still in place

"Er-no, it's Black, but hey," he shrugged, "call me what you want, it's better than 'Alphard' anyway."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione said quickly. "You just look an awful lot like a friend of mine, that's all."

Black beamed. "Well, couldn't be another Black could it?" he inquired curiously. "I'm told that we all look astonishingly alike"

"Erm, no I don't think so..."

Hermione felt her face growing warm. Sirius wasn't even born in this time' she told herself. 'Now you've made him think you're a weirdo'.

Black looked a little bemused at Hermione

"I didn't bump into you too hard, did I?" he asked, looking concerned. "You look a little troubled."

Hermione frowned and looked down

"No," she said to his knees. "I'm new here, and I just feel a little—" She stopped, looking awkward.

"Ah!" he said with an understanding smile. "Say no more. You're homesick! Good lord, I thought the reason why you were crying was because your nose connected with my shoulder or another part of my burly self. And here I am, just having arrived from dinner a little later than everyone else because I had detention with Twidley for sneaking toad spawn into Persia Parkinson's hair—" He trailed off, looking sheepish.

Hermione couldn't help but grin at the rascally glint in his sparking blue eyes.

Alphard glanced at her robes. "Oh!" he exclaimed excitedly. "So you're the new Head Girl!"

Hermione nodded. "As I said before, I'm new here. I've just arrived with my friends a while ago."

"And I'm guessing that they were sorted into Slytherin?"

"Well, yes- strangely enough…"

Black raised his brows

"Oh no," he said suddenly with a grin, showing his very straight, very white teeth, "you mustn't think that we Slytherins are all bad. Some of us are actually quite charming once you get to know us."

Hermione let out a small bitter laugh

"Tell that to Riddle, I'm sure he'd agree," she said sarcastically.

"Riddle, did you say? The famous Tom Riddle?"

"The very one," said Hermione, eyeing him curiously.

"Yes," he said nodding. "He's a right scary git. Has this air of 'dark supremacy' about him that I'm sure you've noticed?"

Hermione shrugged "He seemed pretty normal—"
At least normal until she remembered that this normal person was going to become the most evil wizard of all time.
"—Well, he was rather condescending towards me, tried to boss me around you know…" she relented.

Alphard Black grimaced

"Surely you didn't let him—?"

"Of course not!" said Hermione at once. "I'd have chucked an entire bookcase at him if I weren't Head Girl"

"Jolly good of you then," he said with an approving nod. "But I have this odd feeling that—as delighted as I am to becoming acquainted with you—" he added hastily, "this wasn't the initial intention of you being here?"

"Erm, no," said Hermione, a little awkwardly. "I tried to get into the common room to talk to my best friends. Er, do you think you can call them out for me?"

Alphard waved a hand dismissively. "Nonsense," he laughed. "Just come in with me!"

Hermione gaped. "But House rules—policies—rivalries…"

Alphard waved his hand again, walked forward to the pillar where Hermione had stood not a moment too long ago.

"Sea snakes," he said confidently to the wall.

Immediately, it slid open to reveal a narrow doorway

"I know, I know," he rolled his eyes to Hermione. "Highly original password, we should probably get Riddle to change it..." Hermione smiled shyly.

"So what's your name and your friends' names again?" asked Alphard, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. He was tall, dark and good looking, with wavy jet black hair that fell onto his forehead elegantly.
However, Hermione rather thought that she didn't feel the same sort of reaction to his looks as she did when she first laid eyes on Tom Riddle. Because maybe it wasn't simply rugged looks that had stolen her breath in his daunting presence.

Perhaps it was the momentary deep attraction to his velvety voice, the peculiar feeling of security when she was with him, a contradiction to the aura of danger he possessed… and the strange pull to those deep grey eyes—

"Hermione, shut up," she muttered, thinking that her imagination was starting to run wild again with its underpants over its head.

"Sorry did you say something?" asked Alphard, puzzled.

"Erm, Harry P—"she amended quickly, swallowing. "I mean Barry Trotter and Severus Snape," she corrected herself "And I'm Jane Granger."

Alphard chuckled, he pulled out his wand and pointing it at his throat. Hermione felt a moment of dread passing over her. No—he's not going to do what I think he's about to—

Muttering 'Sonorus', Black bellowed to the dungeon common room at large with his magically magnified voice.

"BARRY TROTTER AND SEVERUS SNAPE, JANE GRANGER AWAITS YOU!!"

He startled the entire vicinity; many girls screamed in surprise and glared at him reproachfully.

Alphard gave Hermione a lopsided grin "Probably shouldn't have done that as a Prefect" he said as an afterthought.

Hermione took a moment to register the shock

"You're a Prefect?" she demanded, thinking that no one would be in their right mind to appoint such an idiot to become a Prefect.

"Hermione!" cried a very familiar voice, followed by a muffled grunt of pain. She spun around to look at the familiar figures of he two best friends in the world from one of the dormitories. Ron was holding his leg where Harry had evidently kicked him for letting slip of Hermione's real name.

With a shriek of happiness, Hermione leapt over a footstool and dashed towards Harry and Ron, giving the pair a crushing hug.

"Hey, calm down!" complained Ron in a muffled voice, his mouth was full of bushy brown hair. "Merlin, you're going to choke us before Quidditch tryouts," he wheezed.

Harry didn't say anything; he was still trying to breathe properly and his glasses were knocked askew.

"Oops, sorry Harry," said a startled Hermione as let them go. "I've missed you so very much after spending literally five minutes in the company of He Who Must Not Be Named."

Harry looked warily around him and ushered her towards a deserted corner where there were a small number of comfy looking chairs and poufs.

Hermione suddenly remembered Alphard, and turned her head to offer him her gratitude. However, Alphard was already lolling on the couch with the girls who had screamed, grinning flirtatiously while they simpered.

"Loud bloke," said Ron, gesturing to Alphard while rubbing his ears, "and I thought I escaped shouting when left mum at The Burrow."

Harry nodded fervently. "Mind you he looks an awful lot like—"

"—Sirius?" said Hermione smiling slightly "I actually thought he was, given that most of the Blacks look similar"

"Which one is he?" asked Harry, forcing casualness.

"His name's Alphard," said Hermione."I think he could be Sirius' father." she added, looking impressed.

Harry shook his head. "No, that's Sirius' uncle. He told me over the summer one time."

Ron frowned. "I didn't remember seeing his name on that tapestry."

"Oh, that's be because he gave Sirius a fortune after he left school to get himself a place and was disowned by his family."

Ron whooped. "Like Uncle like nephew, eh?" he chuckled.

"I don't doubt that," said Hermione with a disapproving frown. "He seemed very agreeable and eager to break as many rules as he can get away with."

"Bloke seems like quite a catch," commented Ron, impressed.

Harry glanced over to the couch where his godfather's teenage uncle sat, now almost completely obscured by tittering sixth year girls. He smiled in spite of himself. He had a distinct feeling that his godfather attracted the similar attention when he was in school.

"Yeah," he said absently. "Though nothing on Riddle. Even teachers go ga-ga over him."

Hermione stirred uncomfortably on her pouf.

"What Hermione?" asked Harry curiously.

"It's just, well," she paused, looking very embarrassed. "It's just you never told me he was good-looking, so he took me by surprise this morning." Her face burned at the metaphor she used to describe him. Her dark knight.
Hermione gave an involuntary shiver.

"You saw him this morning?" breathed Harry.

"Was that why you were in the hospital wing?" gasped Ron, who looked very white. "Riddle beat you into submission!"

"What, rubbish!" Hermione snapped, "of course didn't. I collapsed and he carried me to the hospital wing."

"All the way?" said Ron dumbfounded.

"It certainly seemed so."

"Well," said Harry grudgingly, "that was decent of him."

"Yes," said Hermione slowly. "I should have probably thanked him."

She suddenly felt a wave of shame. There she was, being outrageously rude to someone who had carried her all the way to the hospital wing where he could have just left her lying in the corridor to be trampled on by students coming out of Transfiguration.

But then, she reasoned, Dumbledore would have come to the rescue, anyway. But that would have taken at least an hour before she was found, so…

"Flobberworm caught in your throat?" asked Ron, cupping his chin with his hands.

Hermione blinked. "What?" Oh, it's nothing." She said quickly, "Just a bit surprised that the teenage Voldemort is so, well, normal. He didn't seem the least bit threatening. Condescending perhaps, but fairly amiable."

Harry groaned. "Hermione, please don't tell me you've fallen for his charms."

Hermione colored even more, if that was possible. It was a blessing that the lights under here were green.
"Well, it's not exactly easy not to feel a little grateful for his help," she hedged. "But I don't like him; you know that I don't like the brooding type. And I definitely don't go for only looks," She added indignantly.

Ron and Harry both coughed simultaneously. Hermione distinguished the words coming from Harry as 'Krum!' and Ron as 'Lockhart!' Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust when her redhead friend coughed, "Ron!"

Ron chortled. "Hermione I know you probably think he's okay," he told her, "but you're forgetting the fact that this is You Know Who we're talking about—you know, the one who's accounted for the death of Harry's parents, Diggory, Sirius and Dumbledore? I hardly think we could ever become bosom friends with him."

Hermione shrugged, nonplussed. "I wasn't expecting that to ever happen," she said. "He didn't seem to like me much. I suppose he's a little too committed to his beloved Death Eaters to be worried about a little Mudblood like me."

"Don't call yourself that, Hermione," said Ron sharply. "You're probably smarter than the entire Slytherins in this school put together. This pureblood stuff is utter rubbish and you know it!"

"That's right," said Harry fiercely. "At least your family had enough sense not to marry their own cousins to be a pureblood like Riddle's."

Hermione grinned at her friends' indignation. She felt like crying from happiness.

"Don't worry about me, you two," she smiled.

"But if he called you a You Know What," grumbled Harry threateningly.

"He never has," promised Hermione. "And if he did, be assured that I'll jinx his lips together."

Ron laughed and Harry smiled.

"I just wonder where he has his Death Eater meetings," said Hermione, thoughtfully. "Mulciber, Malfoy, Nott, Avery, Lestrange, Dolohov. You told me that they were the forerunners of the group, didn't you Harry?"

"Yeah," said Harry furiously. "And remember that this year he's supposed to find out what Horcruxes are."

"Shh!" said Ron, he looked around him and muttered. "Muffliato!"

"Had to do that," he told Hermione who had frowned. "In case if you hadn't noticed already, we're in the Slytherin common room" She shrugged in agreement.

"So," said Ron, changing the subject quickly, "what about those Horcruxes, eh? Harry was supposed to find all of them and now it seems that Riddle's going to make them all over again, so big whoop…"

"Hmm..." murmured Hermione, whose eyes had become narrowed in concentration. "Unless if we can stop him..."

"Can we murder Riddle?" asked Ron hopefully.

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione disapprovingly. She sighed in frustration.

"Harry," she said suddenly, aggrieved. "Why did Snape want to send us here? What could we have done in the past?"

"He might've wanted us out of the way so his master could take over the world without Harry around," said Ron darkly.

"And have himself killed by his own side as a result?" asked Hermione skeptically.

"But it's just so weird," said Ron, poking a hole through the seat of his chair,

"I mean, he betrayed the Order, murdered Dumbledore and now he wants to help us!?"

"Maybe he realized that having an evil wizard dominating the world wasn't such a great idea after all," frowned Hermione. "Or perhaps he was on our side in spite of everything, but was merely awaiting the perfect opportunity to help us."

"What do you think, Harry?" asked Ron. Hermione saw Harry's brow furrow as he thought.

"I think," said Harry slowly, "that he sent us here for a reason. He made The Room of Requirement become some sort of portal and did a spell for us to appear in this exact year."

"So it really doesn't matter whether he's on our side or not," he continued, swallowing convulsively. "Either way, we've got the upper hand. This means that we can change time, change the future, and maybe even prevent future deaths."

Hermione and Ron fell silent at this idea.

"Are you saying," said Ron hoarsely. "That if we kill Riddle, then they'll never be a You Know Who in the future?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," said Harry, his emerald green eyes glinting.

"Wait a moment!" said Hermione sharply. "There is no possible way that any of us can murder Riddle."

"Why not?" demanded Ron. "We can always do the usual Avada Curse or push him off the Astronomy tower, what's so hard about that?"

"First of all," said Hermione, in mock thoughtfulness, "we don't know how to do the Avada Kedavra Curse and even if we did, we'd get chucked in Azkaban before we could find a way back to the present!"

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Harry shushed him.

"Secondly," said Hermione, flaring her nostrils, reminding them of Professor McGonagall,

"We could never simply throw him off the topmost tower of the school without getting caught, especially when we're right under Dumbledore's nose. And as much as I hate to say it, even he wouldn't vouch for us if we were convicted of first degree murder to one of the students of this school, regardless of how susceptible they are to evil! Besides, Riddle is Dippet's favorite student, so I don't think he'd hesitate to get us expelled and sentenced to life in Azkaban."

"But—"interjected Ron, but Harry shushed him again.

"Lastly," said Hermione, drawing herself up. "I think there's another way to prevent Tom Riddle from becoming Lord Voldemort."

Harry was prepared to shush his friend again in case if he interrupted, but found that he didn't have to; Ron's mouth had fallen open but was speechless.

"What is it, Hermione?" asked Harry, leaning in closer to her, carefully enough to stay on his own pouf.

"Can you think of any way that can stop Voldemort from existing, Harry?" said Hermione, looking at him seriously. "Think; what made him the way he is?"

"Dunno," said Harry. "I've always thought that he was born an evil git."

Hermione shook her head solemnly. "It's an easy thing to say, but in truth, no-one is born evil but are made so."

"What are you saying, Hermione," murmured Ron, his eyes wide, "that Riddle's a saint deep, down inside?! He's You Know Who, if you hadn't realized! The same git who's been trying to do Harry in for the last sixteen years!"

"That's correct," said Hermione, nodding. "But what I'm trying to say is that we could stop him acquiring something that will end up transforming him into the epitome of evil." She raised both her eyebrows pointedly at Harry.

"You mean to say," said Harry hoarsely, cottoning on at last. "That we have to stop Riddle from knowing about Horcruxes?"

"My point exactly," breathed Hermione.
Harry frowned "Hermione, but Voldemort killed an old witch for Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket out of greed—"

"—to encase his soul in them," finished Hermione. "The locket, you said was rightfully his so it should belong to him in a sense, but the cup was merely for his own personal gain."

"I suppose it makes sense," said Ron dubiously. "But how exactly are we going to stop Riddle from knowing about Horcruxes when chances are, he's already heard all about them?"

"Well, one thing's for sure," said Hermione wryly. "It's definitely not in the library or in any other Dark Arts books I've ever heard of—"

"—which means that it's not in any book, since I trust that you've read pretty much every book known to man," piped Ron.

Hermione scowled. "Rubbish. But you are right about one thing; there isn't a single book that will give details of what a Horcrux is!"

Harry's eyes were as large and green as Dobby's. "So you're saying..."

"I'm saying that the only way he could get the information is from a wizard, whether it be a fully grown one or a stupid little Slytherin friend of his," said Hermione furiously.

"So what do you suggest we do about it?" asked Ron nervously, fidgeting with the frayed edges of his seat. "Stalk him?"

"Wait one minute," interjected Harry, reminding Hermione of Riddle. "You're forgetting that Riddle is dangerous, he's already killed his parents, stolen a family heirloom and framed his uncle. You don't know what he's capable of." He stared at Hermione in a frustratingly protective manner.

"Harry," said Hermione in despair. "You're forgetting that we have Dumbledore! It's not likely that he'd attack us in the school—"

"—that's what he did to Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets," reminded Harry.

"But that was his memory!" argued Hermione. "The Riddle in the diary isn't the same person as the one who's currently living in my Dorm. The one you've met is a fragment of Voldemort's soul after he became what we know him to be in our time."

"Call it intuition or call it whatever you like," said Hermione stubbornly. "But I think there's a way of stopping Voldemort. Snape sent us here for a reason, whether good or bad I don't know. But what I am sure is that we now have the upper hand now and it's up to us to stop him."

Harry thought for a moment

"Alright," he said in resignation. "I mean, you were right about Sirius not being in the ministry, after all. You got Voldemort better than I did by thinking that he knew me well enough to lure me there…" Harry couldn't quite suppress the note of bitterness in his voice.

"It wasn't your fault," said Hermione gently. "Voldemort knew that you cared for him above everyone else—he was family to you. But don't you see? If we stop Riddle from resorting into Voldemort, then we'd never had lost anyone."

"Voldemort is in his past, present and future," said Harry feebly.

"Not if we can help it," said Hermione simply.

...