A/N: Thanks to the following folks for their assistance in helping this story along: brownlark42, ladyofsilverdawn, SassenachStarbuck, and MrsBennettFrazier.

Sandra-Sempra made amazing cover art for this story. See it on my Tumblr crochetawayhpff. And let me know what you think of this chapter!

Chapter 10: The Second Attempt

October 30, 1944

Tears streamed down Hermione's face and her lungs burned as she sprinted up every flight of stairs until she was on the seventh floor. She paced in front of the tapestry of trolls dancing ballet and finally caught her breath when the Room of Requirement appeared. She wrenched the door open and found herself in a simulacrum of the Gryffindor common room. Tears dried on her face as she curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace. What was she going to do? Tom had found a Horcrux his future self had made. She felt like throwing up when she'd seen it in his hand.

Most of the time she forgot who Tom was, but seeing him hold that diadem had been the shock she needed. She had to stay away from Tom Riddle. He was dangerous and not good for her health. She'd had two near-death experiences just in a few short months. The fire crab was probably an accident. But that didn't stop Hermione from thinking that maybe, just maybe it wasn't? Maybe it was someone else like Calanthe Burke who wanted her out of the way.

Hermione didn't want all the attention Tom insisted on showing her. If only someone, anyone else would speak with her. But Tom had gotten there first. He'd claimed her. Hermione shuddered at the thought. She wasn't property to be owned, she was a human, a person who had their own agency.

Hermione sat up. She had agency. She didn't have to go along with what Tom wanted. She could fight back. She would fight back. She couldn't allow Tom to subsume her as he did all his followers. That way led to madness.

Feeling better than she had in a long time, Hermione settled in to read. Let Tom cool off before she went back to the Slytherin common room. Maybe she'd even spend the night in the Room of Requirement and start over fresh tomorrow. That decided, she called for a house elf and ordered herself some dinner.

October 31, 1944

Hermione woke and peered around her blearily. She didn't recognize where she was. It wasn't the hospital wing or her dorm in the dungeons. She sat up slowly, what had woken her?

"Avens?" Tom whispered and Hermione whipped around to find him standing at the door to the Room of Requirement. It still looked like the Gryffindor common room. "You were a Gryffindor in the future? Figures," Tom snorted.

He crossed the room and moved her legs to sit on the couch next to her. Then he scooped her legs up to lay across his. Hermione wanted to deny him the intimacy, but she was so tired. She would fight with Tom in the morning. She laid her head back down on the arm of the comfortable couch and fell asleep with Tom running his hands up and down her bare legs in long, soothing strokes. The skin there had been burnt the worst, and while it looked perfectly normal, it was new skin and so it itched desperately. Tom running his hands over it felt heavenly. Hermione slipped back into sleep.

When she woke again, she knew it was daytime. There weren't any windows in the Room of Requirement, but she had that fuzzy feeling of having slept too long. An arm was wrapped around her middle, it's fingers interlaced with her own. She was going to get up when the arm around her tightened and the hips that were pressed into her bum flexed. Whoever was behind her was hard as steel and he began rocking into her bum. Hermione couldn't help it when she pressed her bum back into the length behind her.

"Fuck," Tom muttered in her ear, ruffling Hermione's short hair.

Hermione wanted to leap out of his arms, and she wanted to strip off her shirt and straddle the boy behind her at the same time. The hand holding her own, disentangled and he slid it down to cup her mons, holding her in place as he rocked into the cleft of her bum. Hermione's nether lips tingled. She wriggled, trying to get him to move his fingers.

He obliged her, stroking her firmly through her knickers.

"Tom," Hermione panted out and arched her back into him.

"Like that?" he asked as he slipped his fingers inside her knickers and felt her warmth and wetness.

"Gods, you do," he breathed as his fingers were coated in her essence.

"Yes," Hermione agreed as he slipped a finger into her tight channel.

Hermione reached her free arm back behind her, pulling Tom's head forward and kissed him fiercely. Tom's fingers delved into Hermione's liquid heat and she moaned into his mouth. He made her feel like she was on fire, and she wanted more, needed more.

"Fuck," Tom muttered as he dragged his mouth from hers, kissing along her jaw and nibbling on her earlobe.

"Need you," Hermione gasped as his thumb circled her clit. Tom's other arm worked its way beneath Hermione and grasped her left breast, kneading it and pulling on her nipple. Hermione arched into his hands, her arm behind his neck, scratching and pulling him closer.

"Gods… fuck… Avens..." Tom moaned into her ear as he ground his erection into her bum.

Hermione felt the tension in her coil tighter and tighter as Tom's fingers worked her over. She threw her left leg over his, opening herself completely to him. Tom took advantage and added two more fingers to the one already pumping in and out of her quim. His thumb circled her clit, sometimes lighter, sometimes harder, driving her desire higher and higher.

"Tom, please," she keened.

"Beg… I want to hear you beg…" Tom panted.

"Please, please, fuck," Hermione swore. "Please, I want… I need…" Hermione cried out wordlessly as she tumbled over the edge of her orgasm. Tom's fingers slowed but didn't stop entirely, drawing her orgasm out, her needy channel gripping him over and over again.

"Fuck… that was fucking beautiful. Gods, you're gorgeous," Tom murmured in her ear as she came down from her high.

"Tom," Hermione moaned as his fingers moved inside her once more.

"Feel that?" Tom asked, pressing his hard length into her thigh. She was now lying on her back, with Tom on his side.

Hermione nodded and met Tom's gaze for the first time that morning. He looked as if he were ready to eat her whole as if he couldn't live without taking her right then. She was sure she wouldn't be able to survive if he left now. She reached her left hand down and grasped him through his pajama bottoms. He was big, bigger than she'd experienced in the past.

"Fuck," Tom grunted when her hand closed around him. She gave him a few experimental pumps and was delighted to find out he liked to talk. He dropped 'fucks' and 'gods' and 'Merlins' as she pumped him through his trousers and he leaned down to pepper her face, neck, and chest with kisses, talking all the while.

Hermione had fallen asleep in her knickers and button-up shirt. She blearily remembered Tom coming in in the middle of the night, but couldn't recall what he was wearing. Now it was only a pair of pajama bottoms, he was shirtless. Hermione's own shirt had come completely unbuttoned at some point. She wriggled herself out of her knickers as Tom moved to hover above her. Hermione spread her right hand over his bare chest, smoothing her hand down his muscles, pulling at each flat nipple. Hermione stopped pumping his cock and grasped his pajamas with both hands, pulling them down and over his hips.

She reached down with both hands, grabbing him one on top of the other.

"Fuck… you are going to be the death of me," Tom muttered as he moved his hips in time with her pumps. He had a hand on either side of her head, holding himself above her.

Hermione wanted more. She wanted to watch him as he lost control. She'd never seen him in such an unguarded state and she thought he looked beautiful. She wanted to see what his face looked like when he was coming.

She maneuvered her legs so she was cradling his hips, then moved her hands and wrapped her right leg around him, squeezing him so he dropped, trapping his cock against her wet heat.

She moaned when the head nudged her clit. When he did it again, she arched her back and wrapped her left leg around him too.

"Gods, don't stop," Hermione muttered as he teased her. He slipped just the tip into her tight channel and pulled back out.

"Tease," she whispered even as she arched her back again. He took advantage of her offering and leaned down, sucking her left nipple into his mouth.

Hermione keened at the dual sensations of having her nipple manipulated and his teasing thrusts inside her.

Tom chuckled darkly when she locked her ankles and sent them driving into his bum, turning his little teasing push into a full-blown thrust. He bottomed out inside her and Hermione cried out at the intrusion. She felt full, fuller than she'd ever felt. But it was amazing, it felt good and right and she never wanted him to leave her. Never wanted to know a world in which this cock wasn't inside her. She flexed her hips, canting them and he sank deeper.

"Gods, witch," Tom breathed as he let her left nipple go and kissed his way to her right one. Hermione had her hands tangled in his hair as he licked, nipped, and sucked. He built a rhythm between his cock and his mouth and soon Hermione was on the precipice again. She so desperately wanted to hold off. She wanted to see him when he was free and falling and open. She squeezed the muscles of her pelvic floor and Tom choked out a groan. His smooth, rhythmic strokes lost all semblance of a cadence and he pounded into her, burying his face in her neck.

He was driving into her wildly, panting and kissing and mumbling, "Fuck, gods, mine." Over and over again. Hermione took it, gladly. Even as they both broke into a sweat. She held on as he hammered her mercilessly.

Tom's wild abandon brought Hermione over the edge once more. She cried out his name as he pummeled into her, she dragged her nails down his back and he arched his own back when he came.

"Fuck… gods… witch… mine…" he mumbled as he spurted deep inside her. Soon they both lay on the couch, completely boneless.

Hermione snuggled into Tom's warmth, happy despite who lay atop her. This was her favorite part of sex. After it was all said and done and hearts were slowly winding down and sweat was cooling on skin — snuggling was at its best. Tom tried to leave, but Hermione wrapped her legs and arms around him. If she never got this again, never got to experience this moment with him again, she was going to enjoy it while it lasted. She suspected this bit of human intimacy would be too much for Tom, that he would see it as a weakness and stop talking to her again.

Despite all the problems at the moment, her fear of the future and of ever getting back home. Her worry about Tom and what it might mean for him to have 'met' a future Horcrux, it all paled in comparison to the human connection she felt immediately after sex.

After a few moments, Tom stopped fighting her. His deep sigh ruffled her still too-short hair and he rolled to his side, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. He waved his hand and a blanket appeared, covering them both. Hermione sighed happily and she kissed his chest as sleep took her.

November 18, 1944

"Do I have to?" Hermione asked as Tom wrapped a Slytherin scarf around her neck and tugged her out of the common room. Professor Slughorn had them make hair growth potion last week, and Hermione had been grateful for the timely lesson. Her fuzz was back to its normal bushy length.

"Yes. Because I have to," Tom replied. He tucked her hand into his and escorted her from the castle.

Slytherin was playing Ravenclaw and it was the first Quidditch match of the year for Slytherin. Hermione didn't care much about Quidditch in her own time, and she cared less about it now. Hopefully, it would be a quick game and she could get out of the cold and back to the warmth of the common room.

It had been a few weeks since Hermione had left the Hospital Wing and Tom was still treating her as if she would break at any moment. She'd tried telling him she wouldn't, but he would hear nothing of leaving her alone for any amount of time. He even escorted her to her dormitory. Hermione was actually a little surprised he didn't expect her to sleep in his bed. They hadn't had a repeat performance of what had happened on Halloween and Hermione couldn't decide if she was upset about that or not. Did Tom not like it? He'd seemed as if he liked it at the time. They hadn't even snogged since then. And yet, Tom wouldn't let her out of his sight. She shook her head in confusion, she really didn't understand him.

She had placed a book in her cloak pocket and was pleased that Tom was into Quidditch enough that he left her alone to read as he stood and cheered with the crowd. Hermione rolled her eyes, it was just a silly game. She was so engrossed in the book she was reading on multiplying charms that she didn't even realize anything was wrong until she heard screaming. Hermione looked up in time to see a bludger flying right at her.

When Hermione was little, she'd once fallen out of a tree in her backyard. She had ended up with a broken arm. Watching the bludger track toward her had been a little like that. She saw it coming, she recognized that it was a bad thing and she should do something about it, but she felt frozen and unable to make a decision. It all happened so slowly and so fast at the same time.

Hermione blinked and the bludger slammed into her chest. It knocked her off her bench and she fell into the person behind her. Who jumped out of the way and Hermione hit her head on the bench a row above them. She stared straight into the sky and …

"Who's there?" said Harry, jumping down onto the bench below. Hermione couldn't hear an answering voice. But the veil in the arch in the middle of the room continued to flutter.

"Careful!" Hermione whispered.

Harry scrambled down the benches one by one until he reached the bottom. His footsteps echoed as he walked toward the dais. Hermione followed him down. The archway looked much taller from where she stood now than when she had been looking down on it from above. The veil still swayed gently as though somebody had just passed through it.

"Sirius?" Harry spoke again.

Hermione had the strangest feeling that there was someone standing right behind the veil on the other side of the archway. Harry gripped his wand very tightly and edged around the dais, Hermione followed slowly, her gaze locked on Harry's movements. There was nobody on the other side. All they could see was the tattered black veil.

"Let's go," Hermione urged. "This isn't right, Harry, come on, let's go…"

Harry ignored her and turned back to the veil.

"Harry, let's go, okay?" Hermione said more forcefully as she approached him slowly.

"Okay," he said, but he didn't move. "What are you saying?" he asked very loudly. The words echoed all around the surrounding stone benches.

"Nobody's talking, Harry!" Hermione snapped as she moved to him, gripping his sleeve.

"Someone's whispering behind there," he said, moving out of her reach and continuing to frown at the veil. "Is that you, Ron?"

"I'm here, mate," Ron said, appearing around the side of the archway.

"Can't anybody else hear it?" Harry demanded.

Hermione shook her head. She was scared, Harry was scaring her.

"I can hear them too," breathed Luna, joining them around the side of the archway and gazing at the swaying veil. "There are people in there!"

"What do you mean, 'in there'?" Hermione demanded. "There isn't any 'in there', it's just an archway, there's no room for anybody to be there — Harry, stop it, come away —"

She grabbed his arm and pulled, but he resisted.

"Harry, we are supposed to be here for Sirius!" Hermione said, her voice high-pitched and straining.

"Sirius," Harry intoned, still gazing at the continuously swaying veil. "Yeah…"

He made to move toward the arch again, and Hermione pulled on his arm sharply, "Sirius," she snapped.

Suddenly Harry shook his head and the sickening dazed look left his face. "Let's go," he said and began walking back up the stairs.

Hermione sighed and followed him.

"Nobody… there… Harry…" Hermione mumbled as he eyes flashed back open and she found herself looking into Tom Riddle's deep blue ones.

She struggled to get up, and that's when she remembered the horrific pain in her chest. She coughed, and it sounded wet to her ears. She tasted blood.

"Tom," she moaned and her eyes slid shut once more.

"Hang on, Avens. I'll get you to Madam Davies," Tom murmured.

Hermione tried to nod to show she understood, but she wasn't sure her head just didn't loll where it rested on Tom's shoulder.

November 22, 1944

Hermione opened her eyes and found herself in the Hospital Wing once more. At this rate, she was beginning to think she should move into the Hospital Wing.

"Wh-What happened?" she asked when she found Tom and Armando sitting next to her.

"Rogue bludger, my dear," Armando explained. Hermione was groggy, but she didn't miss the way Tom's eyes narrowed. He didn't seem to think it was a rogue bludger at all.

"Hate Quidditch," Hermione mumbled, her voice hoarse and scratchy.

Tom lifted a glass of water with a straw and helped her take a sip.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Well, glad to see you awake, dear. I'll leave you and Tom to catch up."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Abraxas has been dealt with," Tom replied coldly after the headmaster left the Hospital Wing.

Hermione felt horrified, he wouldn't… "You didn't kill him did you?" Hermione asked. What if she was the reason Lucius or Draco Malfoy were never born? She couldn't mess with the timeline, not like this.

"He's not dead," Tom sighed. "Too many questions would be asked. He's been punished."

Hermione sighed, at least he wasn't dead.

"Who's Harry?" Tom asked.

Hermione looked at him confused. "What?"

"You were mumbling something about Harry after you'd been hit," Tom shrugged.

Hermione closed her eyes and thought for a moment. Then she remembered the Department of Mysteries. Stopping Harry from touching the veil had been enough to count as a life debt. That was two flashbacks involving saving Harry in some way. That had to mean Harry was dead, right? What about Ron? She knew Sirius was, he'd died that night in the Department of Mysteries.

"He's my best friend," Hermione said as she opened her eyes. "Was my best friend. He must be dead now. I - I have flashbacks, I think. You know about Anamoran? What it is? I think that that's what's saving me. I should have died, from the fall, from the fire crab, from the bludger, from…" Hermione trailed off as she realized the first flashback she had was upon waking up here.

Voldemort's killing curse had not killed her. It had sent her back in time by some strange combination of magic from the killing curse, the time turner, and the amount of Anamoran Hermione had.

"But I didn't die. None of it killed me. Each time, I have a flashback to when I saved someone's life. But the only way Anamoran can work is if the life debt is unfulfilled and unacknowledged. So that means, whoever I saved is dead now. I keep having flashbacks of times I've saved my best friend. Which means he m-must be d-dead…" Hermione trailed off as the lump in her throat grew.

She couldn't say any more. She shook her head and buried her face in her hands as the hot tears coursed down her cheeks. She tried to keep the sobs in, tried not to feel her heart break over never seeing Harry or Ron or anyone else she knew again, but she couldn't.

She felt her heart shatter into pieces, as Tom slid his arms around her and pulled her into him. She buried her face into his chest and sobbed, clutching him to her. Holding on for dear life to the one person who had taken her entire life away.