Ultima ratio

by Winterblume

Ultima ratio - the last resort. At last the day of the Final Battle against Lord Voldemort has come. Harry, Ron and Hermione fight bravely against their nemesis - but then something goes wrong. And Hermione finds herself alone in a precarious situation.

36. Chapter Thirty Five: Is That Really You?

Title: Ultima ratio

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Chapter Thirty Five: Is That Really You?

"You know how much I like you, don't you?" Tom whispered softly into her ear.

Hermione sighed contently as she felt his arms being wrapped around her. She raised her head to look up at him. There was so much affection in Tom's eyes as he was gazing down at her. A warm feeling, originating from her stomach, spread through her whole body as she smiled up at Tom. Then she slung her arms around his waist as she leaned into him. He smelled so good. And his embrace was so caring. Hermione felt protected and happy as she could feel his arms around her so gently.

Everything was perfect.

Just perfect.

Nothing could touch her here. Nothing hurt her.

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her head against Tom's chest. She could feel him placing a light kiss on her forehead. She wanted to stay like this forever. Together with him.

After some time, though, Hermione was hit by an inexplicable restlessness. Something troubled her. What could it be? The content smile left her face and she opened her eyes. As she still leaned into Tom the first thing she expected to see was the green fabric of his uniform pullover. But now that she opened her eyes she was met by a black robe, made of thick and heavy material. Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion. What was this? She wanted to take a step away from Tom, but she couldn't. His arms were still wrapped around her, and by now they had tightened painfully. She wriggled in his grip, trying to break lose. Why didn't he let her go?

"Tom?" she asked, trepidation making her voice shake slightly.

Hermione raised her head to look up at him, but she wasn't met by Tom's handsome features. She saw terrible red eyes with slits for pupils. Skin so pale that it looked like belonging to a corpse. A lipless mouth twisted into a frightening sneer. Hermione stiffened as panic and fear washed over her. Her head swirled and she could feel herself starting to tremble as terror invaded her thoughts. All she could do now was to stare up at him.

"Tsk, tsk," his voice scoffed at her.

It was deathly cold and devoid of any emotion which could have indicated that it belonged to a human being. "You know I hate that name."

Then he leaned down to her. Hermione's breathing was ragged by fear as he whispered cold words into her ear, "Say my true name."

It was not a request, the murderous edge in his voice told her so. He would make her regret it if she wouldn't obey him. He had straightened up again and Hermione could feel her heart beating painfully fast as she stared up at him. She felt like choking, but she still found herself opening her mouth as it was unthinkable not to submit to his command. His crimson eyes were still drowning her with malice, waiting for her answer.

Her voice was soft and ridged by fear as she whispered his name, "Lord Voldemort."

Cruel satisfaction was seeping into his red eyes and a twisted smile slightly curled up the corners of his mouth. Then he grabbed her painfully tight by her upper arms.

"That is right," he hissed at her and the darkness in his voice made her tremble. "And you would do well to remember it, Mudblood."

Suddenly, he hurled her away, and Hermione gasped in pain as she was flung to the floor. Her shoulder throbbed achingly as she stared up at him. Her eyes were wide with fear as she watched him pulling his pale wand.

"You disgust me," he stated, while his eyes scanned her mercilessly. "This is what you deserve," he continued, before he brandished his wand and hissed, "Crucio."

The last thing she apprehended before her world exploded in pain was his cold laughter.

Hermione started up in her bed. Her breathing was fast as if she had just run a mile at full speed. She felt herself shaking uncontrollably, and she was drenched in cold sweat.

This is getting ridiculous, she growled at herself. But she knew that even if she had decided to bury all her feelings for Tom, didn't mean her feelings would just leave her alone. She had experienced it before, hadn't she? The nightmares. It seemed they were back, trying to make her life even more miserable than it already was. Hermione groaned in frustration and then opened the curtains of her four-poster and got up.

"Morning, sunshine," Rose chirped at her happily.

Hermione doubted very much that she had any distant resemblance to a 'sunshine' right now but didn't comment on it. Instead she grumbled something that could have meant 'Good morning.' or just 'Leave me the hell alone!'. Then she stooped down to retrieve her clothes from her trunk. She grabbed a black skirt and a rather washed out mauve blouse. As she gathered up her clothes she noticed how her room mates ran around in an excited way. Rose had dumped what seemed to be her entire wardrobe on her bed and went through it, occasionally picking up one piece to examine it closer. Lucia was posing before a mirror she had obviously conjured up and was contemplating her shiny high heeled shoes. Viola seemed to be occupied with braiding Diana's long, jet-black hair. Hermione was a little bewildered by their antics. She didn't really care what they were up to, but she also wouldn't fancy if her dorm mates' sudden urge to spruce up was evoked by one of Legifer's infamous inspections. So as Hermione shuffled over to the bathroom she asked Lucia,

"What's with the uproar?"

Lucia only distractedly unfixed her eyes from her black shoes and looked at Hermione.

"Do you think the heels are too high?" she asked, completely ignoring Hermione's query.

"Er… no?"

"I'm not so sure," Lucia replied as she again looked at her shoes. "My father doesn't like high heels very much."

Rose looked up from her quest of searching the right outfit and suggested in her shrill voice, "Then don't wear them. Seriously, you have a lot of other shoes."

"Yes," Lucia replied reluctantly as she stared at her black shoes. "But they are the prettiest."

Hermione chose to ignore the rest of that discussion and resumed her way to the bath room. She now knew what the whole thing was about anyway. As soon as Lucia had mentioned her father, Hermione had remembered. Today was parents' day. Of course, how could she have forgotten? It was the very day on which she would break into her best friend's house to steal from his family, she thought frustrated as she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Harry would understand, wouldn't he? she tried to assure herself. It still felt somehow wrong, but Hermione knew that this was part of her new plan. This was part of her plan of finally getting home again.

Whatever home means.

_._._._._

Hermione flipped through a book while standing beside a shelf in the Library. Since breakfast was over, she was working on an essay for professor McGray. The students' parents would arrive for lunch, so Hermione had some time left before she would go off to her little thieving trip. Currently, she researched the different ways to fight off manticores. Though, admittedly, there didn't seem to be many ways to do so, Hermione decided as she read through a paragraph about those creatures in the fifth book already. The author suggested the best way to not be eaten by a manticore, would be to avoid it altogether. Hermione slowly suspected that there was no curse to actually subdue a manticore. Maybe McGray had given them a catch question.

A small smile crept on her face. She kind of liked her DADA professor. He was rather unconventional. Aside from Remus Lupin, who was the best teacher ever in her opinion, she only had had a lot of failures as DADA professors. To be fair, Mad Eye Moody in her fourth year had been rather good, too, but he had actually been a Death Eater in disguise. So, she wasn't going to count him. Snape hadn't been too bad either, she had to reluctantly admit, but he had always been a rather dodgy character. To this day she didn't know on which side he had fought.

A spy, from start to finish, she mused as she wondered about Snape's loyalty. Dumbledore had been convinced of his honesty. But then again, Snape had killed Dumbledore after her sixth year. Hermione didn't know what to think of Snape. She sighed tiredly, closed the book about manticores and placed it on the shelf. She was pretty much alone in the Library as it was Saturday and still rather early. The parents wouldn't arrive for at least another two hours. They would all meet in the Great Hall for lunch. She dreaded to go there. With all the family members present it was going to be plainly obvious that she was alone. Hermione had accepted her parents' death, but at times like these their loss hit her hard. Her Gryffindor friends, on the other hand, were overly enthusiastic about the whole thing. Longbottom and Weasley had been thrilled to have their family visit them. Lupin had been a little nervous as he would introduce his new girlfriend to his parents and he would need to talk with the Lovegoods, too. All in all, though, he had seemed pretty happy about the whole event.

Hermione would have gladly avoided the thing altogether. She could already imagine the looks of pity she was going to receive when she arrived at the Great Hall completely alone. Though, the Slytherins would probably enjoy her misery. Since the whole school knew about her parentage the Slytherins had become downright nasty towards her. Well, she had had ample experience with Slytherins hating her, hadn't she?

Hermione reached for another book, standing on the shelf, but as she started to flip through its pages her thoughts were elsewhere. Her mind wandered back to her first years at Hogwarts.

Merlin, I was so naïve back then, she mused as she remembered that day in her second year when Draco Malfoy had called her a 'Mudblood'. Back then she had sensed that it was an insult but hadn't known what exactly it meant. She hadn't known that this single word was packed with discrimination, social exclusion and eventually hate. As she had stepped into the wizarding world, enthralled by its wonders, she had had no idea that there was a deep rift, running through this world, splitting it in two.

It hadn't taken her long to understand it, though, because Draco Malfoy's insult had only been a prelude to more and more hostility. After her sixth year, all the hate and aversion had finally resulted in a war that had covered the country with chaos. As everything had slowly drowned in darkness, Hermione had often wondered if it wouldn't have been better for her to have stayed in the Muggle world. A weak smile ghosted around her lips as she remembered how Harry and Ron would always scold her whenever she voiced something like this.

'You are the best witch I have ever known. I tell you, you belong here,' Ron would always say. Then he would loop an arm around her shoulders and recount every time she had managed to best those 'pureblooded bigots' in school.

Hermione felt her stomach clench as she thought about Ron. She missed him very much. And Harry, too. They had always stood by her. They had been there for her, back then in second year as Malfoy had insulted her and later, too, as the war had struck and people had tried to kill her because of her parentage. Thanks to them, the hate and disgust against Muggleborns had never really hit her. She had been protected by her friends because she had known that they would never abandon her because of her blood status.

Then that protective shield had been taken away from her. Now, she stood alone. When there now was disgust in the eyes of the Slytherins, Hermione had to deal with it alone. The only person who could have been able to protect her had chosen to abandon her.

Hermione's hands clenched tightly around the book as her thoughts drifted in a direction she desperately tried to ignore. Stop that, Granger, she hissed at herself and stuffed the book angrily back on the shelf. She wasn't facing any dark wizards here. Only school children. There was no need for anyone protecting her.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps echoing on the stone floor of the Library. Hermione frowned; she hadn't expected anyone to be here. She turned around to whoever was walking towards her. Her blood froze as her eyes fell on her unbidden guest. Tom was confidently stalking down the aisle. As always his hair was perfectly coiffed. She remembered how she had liked to destroy his hairstyle by running her hands through his dark silky hair. His eyes were still that beautiful shade of grey, she had always admired.

He still looked the same. Handsome.

But his attractive appearance was now marred by a depreciative smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, and disgust glinting in his eyes as he scanned her. Hermione could feel her heart stabbing her chest as he looked at her in this way, but she swallowed down any upcoming emotions and stared back at him indifferently. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he did hurt her with his cold behaviour.

"Hermione," Tom said in his melodious voice as he had reached her. His next words were warped by brutal scorn, "What a pleasure to meet you."

Hermione pressed her mouth into a thin line. She did not want to speak with him. Instead she reached for her bag and then turned to quickly leave. She might have decided to ignore the feelings she had towards him, but that was very difficult when he was standing right in front of her. She had only taken a few steps away from him as she felt a hand grabbing her upper arm, thus stopping her. Tom twirled her around so that she was forced to face him again. Then he rammed her against the bookshelf, making her wince in pain. He had her firmly pinned against the shelf and tightly held her shoulders so she wasn't able to escape. His face was still a blank as he looked down at her, though Hermione could see anger slowly seeping into his features.

"That's not very polite, don't you think? Just walking away in the middle of a friendly conversation," Tom told her quietly. An offensive smirk appeared on his face as he said in a patronizing way, "Some people would call that ill-breeding."

Hermione took in a sharp breath of air as she heard his last word, but she would not allow her emotions to get the better of her so she said in a cold, clipped tone which did not betray how much he unsettled her,

"Release me."

A twisted smile curled up the corners of his mouth as he looked down at her. Then he said, his words dripping from his mouth, sweet as poison,

"Why so alone here in the Library? Why are you not preparing to meet with your dear parents?"

Hermione just stared back at him and did not reply anything. He knew perfectly well that her parents had died. She set her shoulders and looked defiantly back at him.

The evil smirk on his face suddenly turned into one of his charming smiles as he said in mock sympathy, "Oh yes. I forgot. They are dead. How unfortunate for you."

Hermione again tried to shake him off, but as there might be a soft smile on his face his hands still held her ruthlessly in place. He seemed to reflect on his words, and as an afterthought he said in a suave tone that contrasted sharply with the message of his words,

"Though, others might think it's not a big loss. You know, them being dirty Muggles and all."

At his words she could feel her composure slowly forsake her. The vile amusement, dancing in his cold eyes, made her want to curse him on the spot. Her right hand was prepared to release her wand from its holster any time now.

Rightful fury coursing through her, she hissed at him heatedly, "I said get off me! I don't want anything to do with you!"

Instead of releasing her, Tom just raised one haughty eyebrow at her elegantly. "You really shouldn't talk to your superiors like this, Mudblood."

She had to swallow as she heard him using that word so casually. But she would not allow her façade to crumble, so she looked him squarely in the eyes as she said in a firm voice,

"You are certainly not my superior."

Without breaking eye contact with him, she flicked her wrist and her wand landed in her hand. She allowed her magic to swirl around her furiously. The force of her magic, though, didn't throw Tom off. Instead his own magic met hers. As he felt her magic in the air, Tom's eyes narrowed at Hermione dangerously and a fearsome smirk played around his mouth. Then he said, cruel condescension dripping from his every word,

"Of course I am. Even the most stupid Hufflepuff first year is your superior."

The anger which had flamed up in her suddenly left her again and she felt drained and empty as she gazed back at him.

"Unless that first year is a Muggleborn, I assume?" Hermione replied in an expressionless tone.

"Exactly," Tom sneered down at her cruelly. Then the hate which had until now only been visible in his eyes distorted his handsome features and he spat venomously, "People like you don't deserve to be here."

Hermione didn't know whether he was speaking about Hogwarts or life in general. Both interpretations were possible after all and this insight made her stomach flop. She stared up at him and the only thing she could make out on his face was this abysmal hate. It even crackled around him in form of his dark magic. She wondered if there really had been a time when he had looked at her with something else than hate. She shook her head as if to dispel her memories.

"You are hideous," said in a hollow voice.

A frightening look crossed his face as he heard her. His hands on her shoulders tightened painfully and an eerily red sheen tinted his eyes. Hermione was fully prepared to him attacking her now and her hand tightened around her wand. She was certainly not going to let him walk all over her. Her whole body was very tense, awaiting his attack.

So she was utterly surprised as that upcoming crimson colour disappeared from his eyes again. Strangely enough, even the anger that had previously twisted up his face left him as he looked down at her. Hermione felt drawn to those incredibly grey eyes as Tom scanned her so intensely as if he had seen something new in her. She was mesmerized by the softness that suddenly appeared on his face.

Then Tom leaned down to her. Hermione stiffened as she felt his lips brushing against her own. It felt so soft, just like she remembered it. She closed her eyes as he was kissing her tenderly. It seemed her rational mind had abandoned her as the only thing she could comprehend was his mouth on hers as he caressed her. His hands released her shoulders and slid gently down her body. One of his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her against him while his other hand started to run comfortingly over her back, sending a burning tingle over her skin wherever he touched her. Hermione was dazed by his actions and his closeness which she had missed so dearly. She could feel the heat of his body through her clothes and could smell his pleasant scent. Her heart started to beat so fast, and she was lost in her feelings. Her emotions overwhelmed her completely, and she couldn't stop herself to huddle closer against him. She leaned into him and started to respond to his kiss. Her wand fell from her hand and landed with a soft clang on the stone floor. Hermione lifted her arms and slung them tightly around him.

The moment her fingers clasped the fabric of the dark robes on his back, Tom suddenly ended the kiss. Hermione's eyes flew open as she was ripped from her dream-like state. She stared at him with huge eyes, apprehension wrapping around her heart. There was not one speck of emotion on his blank face. Hermione's heart beat at an incredible pace as Tom again leaned down to her. But this time he turned his head to speak into her ear. She could still feel his arms slung around her body. His hands on her back and waist were so warm and gentle as he held her pulled against him. His voice was equally gentle as he spoke to her.

But his words were not. They were like sharp blades, cutting through her, attacking her weak spots and seeking to rip open painful wounds. "If I'm really so hideous, then why are you moaning like a slut right now?" His cruel scoff was hidden behind twisted politeness.

Hermione stiffened in his arms as his words sunk in and finally dispelled her upcoming hope. Her hands released the fabric of his robes like she had been burned by it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to wriggle away from him.

"Let go," she finally sniffed as her attempts to shake him off remained to be futile.

As an answer his arms tightened around her, and he pulled her against his chest. Then he whispered in his velvety voice, "With pleasure."

With that he released her and took a step away from her trembling form. Hermione desperately tried to get her violated emotions back under control as she stared up at him. He was standing there, looking as attractive as ever, and sneered down at her. Sickening triumph swelled up in his eyes as he took in her shaky state.

When he spoke next he didn't even bother to hide the malice from his tone,
"I can't believe something like you dares to insult me. You and your lousy Muggle parents are worth less than the muck, sticking under my boots."

Hermione stared up at his eyes, blazing with hate and revulsion, while they slowly wandered over her form.

Then he continued to abase her, his cold words rolling with cruel conviction from his tongue, "It just is obscene how you are allowed to walk around, to breathe, when it is so obvious how you defile this place with your mere presence."

The demeaning streak in his words made her freeze in shock. Then he leaned a little towards her, and Hermione could feel her body starting to tremble as he hissed into her ear, wielding each word like a knife used with merciless precision,

"You make me sick."

Hermione was stunned and only her eyes widened in fear as he drew his wand. A vicious look crossed his face when he saw her discomfort, but then he didn't raise his wand at her. Instead he waved it at the front of his uniform shirt and pullover and said,

"Scorgify."

Then he scoffed at her snidely, "Don't want to be dirtied by your Muggle filth."

He threw her one last disgusted glance before he turned around and sauntered down the aisle, leaving her leaned against the shelf. Hermione's breathing was laboured as she watched his retreating back. Tears still burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

You idiot, Hermione! she hissed at herself, disgusted by the hope he had managed to evoke in her. Situations like these were the very reason she had decided to bury her dispensable emotions. Confronted with her feelings, Hermione felt angry and furious at herself. Once again she had allowed him to hurt her. She was disgustingly weak. With a trembling hand she picked up her wand and reached for her school bag, which had also fallen down at the floor as Tom had assaulted her. She grabbed it tightly and quickly scurried out of the Library.

Tom couldn't suppress a soft snicker as he watched Hermione almost running from the Library. How could that Mudblood ever think she would be able to stand up to him? he thought condescendingly. It had been amusing to spite her, but Tom wondered why he had gone so far as to kiss her. He shouldn't go around and kiss Mudbloods. That was just disgusting. Sure he had wanted to prove his point, but there certainly were other ways to do that than by embracing and kissing her.

How could he have been so blinded by her lies? It made him shudder in disgust as he remembered how he had coveted her. How humiliating to have spent time with a lowly Mudblood. But he shouldn't forget that there had been a reason for him to have wanted to possess her. Since she had arrived at Hogwarts, Hermione had proven to be an exceptionally powerful witch. Of course Tom had been drawn to that kind of power. She had appeared to be so valuable, so desirable.

Now he knew better, though. He knew that her power and her magical ability was all but a lie. Hermione herself wasn't that powerful. Being a Mudblood, she most probably was a poor witch. No special talent at all. Hermione was completely worthless.

As that thought unfolded in his mind, Tom was suddenly hit by the memory of her in his arms. Why had he kissed her? And why had he liked the feeling of her in his arms? As that final thought took form in his mind, Tom shook his head angrily. This was ludicrous. It wasn't Hermione herself who he had liked to embrace. It was more the idea, he was still fascinated with. For so long he had thought her to be a formidable sorceress. Someone desirable. Of course, it now took him some time to get over that impression of her. But he had to accept how worthless she truly was, he decided furiously. He might have thought her powerful and valuable, but that had been a mistake. After all, Tom had a theory as to why that Mudblood could perform such powerful magic. He needed to finally find out once and for all if that theory of his was right.

Had that Mudblood really managed to steal the Unbeatable Wand? Was that the secret behind her power?

A vile smirk took form on his face as he skimmed his index finger over the book Hermione had been reading in. Beasts of the Woods, he read its title. She had been trying to research for that essay McGray had given them? That Mudblood should stop wasting the teachers' time and school resources by doing homework. The smirk on his face even widened. There was no way Hermione could compete with any pureblood, Tom thought haughtily.

Wasn't today the perfect opportunity to confront her and steal her wand? Tom mused as he sauntered towards the exit of the Library. The castle was swarming with students and their family members. Everyone, the teachers included, were distracted and wouldn't pay him any attention. He just had to wait for an opportunity were Hermione was alone. Then he would strike.

The evil smile re-entered his face as Tom left the Library.

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It was sometime later that Hermione descended the stairs from her dorm. After she had met Tom in the Library, she had decided to wait for lunch time in her dorm, avoiding him. She could still feel shame taking hold of her whenever she remembered how easily Tom had managed to seduce her again. There still were feelings she had for him, and Tom obviously knew that. He didn't hesitate to use that against her, Hermione realized darkly.

As she walked through the deserted common room, she forcefully banned all thoughts about Tom from her mind. There were other things, more important things, she had to concentrate on. Hermione had almost reached the portrait hole as a soft hooting noise made her turn around again. An owl was sitting on the back rest of one of the arm chairs. The owl's large yellow eyes blinked at her knowingly and hooted again. It was then that Hermione saw a tiny piece of parchment attached to the Owl's leg. The bird hooted even more enthusiastically as she unfixed the letter from the Owl's leg. As soon as the bird was free of its burden, it took off and flew out of one of the windows. Hermione's eyes wandered from the disappearing bird to the letter in her hand. To Ms Hermione DeCerto, the envelope said in a fine, elaborate handwriting. Hermione furrowed her brow and opened it. The enclosed letter was written in the same elegant hand:

Ms DeCerto,

If your time table allows, I would be very delighted to meet with you. I will be waiting for you in my office on Monday at six o'clock.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Perfect. Just perfect! Hermione thought annoyed as her eyes again wandered over the letter. Didn't she already have enough problems? Now, she would have to deal with Dumbledore, too. She sighed tiredly as she slipped the letter into her robe pocket. There was no doubt in her mind as to what the old teacher wanted from her. Hermione couldn't stop a frustrated groan escaping her lips, as she exited the common room. Last time she had spoken with Dumbledore, Hermione had blackmailed the professor. She still felt bad about the whole thing. To save Tom from getting expelled, Hermione had threatened Dumbledore with making public how a Muggle had mistreated Tom in his orphanage. To release a story like that in these times would surely fuel the hate against all Muggles and Muggleborns. Dumbledore hadn't wanted to risk that, so he had allowed Tom to stay at school.

Of course her threat had been a big bluff. Hermione would never endanger any Muggles or Muggleborns, but the Dumbledore of the past didn't know that.

By now Hermione had reached the moving staircase. She was deep in thought as she walked down the stairs, not paying any attention. This new development was making everything even more complicated. Obviously, the latest gossip, running up and down the castle, had finally reached the teachers. It was safe to assume that Dumbledore knew about her parentage. With that her blackmail was void. That was definitely the reason why he had summoned her to his office. Hermione had no idea what to tell him on Monday. The truth? Another lie? Either way, it seemed the following Monday was going to be real fun, she thought dryly. Aside from the Dumbleodre problem, there still was the Ortus potion. It was almost completed, so next potions class Hermione would have to ruin that potion without anyone noticing. And right after that little stunt she would have to talk with Dumbledore.

Damn! she thought enraged as she turned into the corridor with the entrance to the Great Hall. The situation had changed again, but she shouldn't get so worked up about it. Hermione tried to get some order into her messed up thoughts. The Dumbledore situation could wait for now. She still had until Monday to come up with something. For now, there was another mission she needed to complete, Hermione decided as she walked through the doors and entered the Great Hall. She needed to concentrate now. After all, there was a plan she had to execute. Hermione let her gaze wander over the hall. The four large house tables had vanished just to be replaced by smaller ones, each with room for four people.

How nice, Hermione thought cynically. Now I can sit at one of those tables alone for everyone to see that I have no family.

That was going to be a field day for all those Slytherin stuck-ups. Their favourite Muggleborn all alone and miserable. They could enjoy the company of their parents while pointing and laughing at her.

Hermione let her gaze once again wander over the Great Hall. It seemed most of the parents had already arrived and were sitting with their children at the tables. There was a painful stab in her chest as she saw all those happy families around her. The other students were sitting there, enjoying a day with their parents, and probably told them what an exciting school year they had had so far. And the parents would laugh and look lovingly at their children.

Hermione balled her hands into fists and looked for an empty table. She would just grab something to eat, hope that Dippet's welcoming speech wasn't too overflowing and then she would flee this spectacle.

As Hermione walked through the rows of tables in search for an empty one, she let her eyes inconspicuously wander over the people already sitting at the tables. She had almost crossed the whole length of the hall as she finally spotted them. There, a few metres away, she could see Diana Potter sitting at one of the tables. She was laughing merrily and her eyes were sparkling jovially. Hermione's gaze wandered from Diana to the two others, sitting with her at the table. There was a man with light brown hair which stood from his head at odd angles. Like Diana he was laughing joyfully and had even removed his glasses to wipe tears from his eyes. Next to the man, Hermione could see a woman with long, jet-black hair. She seemed to glower reproachfully at the man beside her, but there was also a mischievous glint in her eyes and the corners of her mouth twitched traitorously. As Hermione watched that cheerful scene unfold before her eyes, a strange longing hit her. At that moment, she would have given anything to be able to have what Diana seemed to have.

Hermione quickly averted her eyes from the Potters. Well, at least she now knew that the Potters had indeed left Godric's Hollow. Now, she just had to stay here until lunch was over, then she would finally execute her plan: get to the Potter's house, find and steal the Invisibility Cloak.

Hermione suddenly heard a voice calling for her, "Hey, Hermione!"

She stopped and looked up in confusion. Then she spotted Longbottom sitting at a table not far away and waving at her enthusiastically. A man with blond hair and a woman, wearing beautifully embroidered witch's robes, were sitting at the table with him. Probably his parents, Hermione guessed. She hesitantly walked towards them as Longbottom beckoned her over. The man and woman had wide smiles on their faces as Hermione finally reached the table.

"Mum, dad, this is Hermione," Longbottom told his parents cheerfully.

"Hello, dear," Mrs Longbottom greeted her kindly. "Why don't you sit down and join us?"

"Er…" Hermione stuttered. She didn't want to disturb their day with their son.

"Don't be shy," Mr Longbottom exclaimed amused.

"Oh… okay," Hermione said timidly and sat down.

Mr Longbottom positively beamed at her and Mrs Longbottom smiled while she poured Hermione a cup of tea. Hermione noticed that the woman seemed to be well advanced in a pregnancy.

"So you are Hermione Without-a-Surname?" Mr Longbottom asked her, his blue eyes glistening mischievously.

A smile appeared on Hermione's face. It seemed he and his son had a lot in common.

"DeCerto," she said in a soft voice. "My name's Hermione DeCerto."

"Ah," Mr Longbottom said in mock surprise. Then he turned to his son. "So she does have a surname, but you just forgot to tell us."

Longbottom's face was turning bright red and said, "Dad, stop being so embarrassing."

Hermione had to chuckle slightly. Longbottom scowled at his father who grinned mischievously. Mrs Longbottom just shook her head and smiled in amusement. Hermione reached for her cup of tea and took a sip. A smile took from of her face. This was really nice.

"So, Hermione," Mrs Longbottom said kindly. "I hear that you are a new student. How do you like Hogwarts?"

Hermione smiled at the woman, then she replied, "It's nice. I really like it. Classes are okay, I think. Not too difficult. I can follow."

At that Longbottom chuckled and exclaimed, "'Not too difficult'? Come on, Hermione, you are top of every class."

Mr Longbottom raised his eyebrows at her and said, turned towards his son, "Top of every class, you say?" He then wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders and ruffled with his other hand through Longbottom's blond hair. Then he wailed in mock grief, "Ah, here you are, having such intelligent friends, my dear dear son, but it just doesn't seem to rub off on you."

Longbottom pushed his father away, the scowl on his face intensifying. Though Hermione could see a grin breaking through.

"Dad, stop it," Longbottom reprimanded. Then the scowl left his face, and he sat up straight on his chair while pronouncing, "I don't need to be good in school. I'll become the best Chaser ever. Can't waste my time with school work."

Before Mr Longbottom could reply anything, Mrs Longbottom just softly wacked her son over the back of his head. Longbottom rubbed his head while he looked reproachfully at his mother.

"Hey, what was that for?"

"No lagging at school work, mister," she warned him, though the gentle glint never left her eyes as she looked at her son.

Hermione had to chuckle again. Yes, this was definitely nice, she decided as she watched the family in front of her. Then her thoughts were interrupted by a rather penetrating voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen, dear students," Dippet declared in his pompous sounding voice. "I am very pleased to be able to welcome so many guests into our midst. It's a great privilege to finally be the host of the very first parents' day. We, that is the school governors and myself, have wanted to organize this event for quite some time, so…"

Hermione just had to drone out Dippet's self important voice. She could only hope that his wasn't going to take forever. Mr Longbottom now yawned tiredly and she could only agree with him.

_._._._._

It was some time later that Hermione left the Great Hall, silently glad that this was over. Like expected Dippet's speech had been unbearably long. She was more than happy to be able to flee all this, although the Longbottoms had really been nice. As she hurried out of the Great Hall, she was so determined to get away as fast as possible that she didn't notice a pair of grey eyes following her process through the hall.

"Excuse me," Tom said while plasting a polite smile on his face as he got up from the table.

"Are you leaving already?" Lady Malfoy asked, disappointment playing around her beautiful face.

She was still sitting at the table, her eldest son, Hereweald, to her right and Abraxas to her left. Tom bowed slightly towards the Malfoy matriarch. She was a woman of exceptional beauty. Her long hair was white as snow, but there was not one line on the flawless skin of her face, making it impossible to estimate her age. The exquisite silky dress she was wearing accentuated her beauty even further. But the most striking feature about this woman might as well have been her eyes which seemed to bore into Tom right now. Her eyes were the shade of a very light grey. Their pale colour made them look somehow washed out as if belonging to a blind person. But the sharp, icy cold glint in them immediately destroyed that impression again.

"You know how much I enjoy having you around, Mr Riddle," Lady Malfoy continued, her voice a soft whisper.

Her eyes, though, remained to be cold, almost dead-looking if there hadn't been that calculating edge in them. As Tom looked back at her, a bland expression on his face, he wondered, not for the first time, if the rumours about Lady Malfoy were true. Since her husband had died some years ago, there had been rumours flying around the magical community. Rumours stating that it wasn't dragon pox that had taken Lord Malfoy's life, but that it had actually been murder, carried out by none other than his beloved wife. Whatever the truth though, after her husband's death Lady Malfoy had become the matriarch of the Malfoy clan and with that one of the richest and most influential people in wizarding Britain. Lady Malfoy was truly an amazing woman, Tom thought as he stared into her cold eyes.

"I apologise," he finally said silkily. "I would prefer to spend my time in such enchanting company, unfortunately I don't have a choice in this matter as I still have to satisfy my obligations."

A small smile grazed Lady Malfoy's lips as she continued scanning Tom through her milky grey eyes.

"Always so very busy, Mr Riddle," she purred at him, though her hard eyes were still scanning him like a hawk. "I do hope you find the time to join us again later."

Tom allowed an ingratiating smile to take form on his face as he replied, "It would be my pleasure."

He bowed again before he turned to leave the hall. He could almost feel Lady Malfoy's amused but cold eyes following his process through the hall. She was one of the very few people who managed to make him feel slightly nervous when in their presence. To his own surprise he even felt something like respect for that woman.

Tom exited the hall and took off down the corridor. He needed to find out where Hermione had gone off to. The students and their parents, as well as all teachers were assembled in the Great Hall, making this the perfect time to catch Hermione alone. A dark smile tugged at the corners of Tom's mouth as he stalked down the corridor. He passed a row of windows and his gaze distractedly wandered over the landscape while he wondered where Hermione could have gone. He stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted a figure walking towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Tom instantly recognized Hermione even though she was some distance away.

Why was she wandering off to the Forbidden Forest? Tom wondered suspiciously as he dashed down the corridor towards the Entrance Hall. He left the castle through the front gate and hurried towards the forest. As he passed the shore of the Great Lake, he could finally see Hermione again. She had almost reached the edge of the forest. She obviously hadn't notice him yet, Tom realized. He stayed in the shadow of a grove of spruces as he rushed after her, never letting her out of his sight. He was still quite the distance away as she reached the edge of the forest. Tom suppressed a snigger as he watched her stopping. This was almost too easy, wasn't it? They were so far away from the castle that no-one could spot them here.

No, witnesses.

It was as those triumphant thoughts flew through Tom's head, that Hermione suddenly pulled her wand. He stopped his pursuit and watched her with narrowed eyes. Obviously, that witch was planning something. Tom almost growled in frustration as he saw her performing a very familiar wand movement. Then she swirled on the spot and was gone.

_._._._._

Hermione reappeared in a small orchard of pear trees. She turned around to check if someone had seen her apparating, but no-one was in the close vicinity. So, she took off and passed the orchard until she reached a road. A distance away, she could see the houses belonging to a small village. With determined steps she followed the lane in direction to that village. It didn't take her long and she reached the first houses. The cottages stood on either side of the narrow road. She passed more houses with well-cared-for front yards. The sun shone brightly down on the village, diving everything into a merry light. The careless atmosphere, though, contrasted sharply with Hermione's mood. She felt very tense as she scanned the name plates at the house entries for the name 'Potter'. She continued following the little lane through the village of Godric's Hollow.

A little while later, Hermione could see an old man walking down the road while his Yorkshire terrier followed him duteously. As the man passed her, he eyed her curiously but then gave her a friendly nod. She returned the gesture and then continued down the lane. As she walked on she inconspicuously pulled her wand and cast a quick notice-me-not on herself, silently berating herself for not doing it sooner. She really mustn't be seen here.

The street curved to the left, and Hermione reached what seemed to be the heart of the village; a small square. Some people passed the square, intending to go to the post office or one of the shops, flanking the square. Hermione could see a group of men entering a pub not far away from her. No-one noticed her, though, as her concealing magic was still in place. She actually had no idea where exactly she could find the house of the Potters. Back in her time they had never found the time to visit Godric's Hollow. Hermione knew that Harry had always wanted to visit the home town of his parents, but the war had once again stopped him from having his wish.

Hermione sighed softly as she crossed the square. On her right side stood a small church and there, behind a kissing gate entrance, Hermione could see tombstones. This was obviously the grave yard of Godric's Hollow. She wondered if it would still look the same in forty years time when Harry's parents would find their final resting place here. Despite the warm sunshine a shudder went down her spine and Hermione hurried on. On her way she passed a fountain which stood in the middle of the square, then she walked down a street opposite from where she had come from. Godric's Hollow wasn't very big, it wouldn't take her long to find the Potter house. After a while of following this street, Hermione could see the end of rows of cottages where the street led out of the village. Obviously, this had been a dead end. She almost cursed under her breath and turned around to walk back to the small square. It was then that she suddenly sensed traces of magic in the air. The magic seemed to come from that cottage at the very end of the row of houses. Hermione knew that many wizarding families lived in Godric's Hollow, but maybe she was lucky and this was indeed the house of Harry's family. She neared the cottage that emitted the magic. Its garden was surrounded by a hedge and there was an apple tree in full bloom standing in the garden. She smelled a sweet flowery scent as she approached the waist-high metal gate. Her hands clasped the metal and she scanned the house in front of her. It didn't look in any way special. Hermione's heart gave an excited extra throb as her gaze wandered over the name plate attached to the house wall right beside the wooden door. 'Potter' the plate said and Hermione knew that this was the right house.

Her notice-me-not charm still in place, Hermione opened the gate. It made a squeaking noise. Then she entered the front yard. The sweet scent, coming from the apple tree, was now even stronger and Hermione could hear the slight buzzing of bees. Then she reached to wooden front door, which was painted in a light green. Hermione pulled her wand and waved it. To her utter surprise she found no spells or any wards, protecting the entrance. Obviously, the Potters didn't expect anyone wanting to rob them.

That's going to change, she thought sadly as she sent a simple Alohomora towards the door. The lock clicked softly, then the door cracked open. Hermione breathed in deeply before she grasped the handle and stepped into the house. She stood in a small hallway. Its walls were painted in a friendly yellow colour. To her right, stairs were leading up to the second floor, to her left was a wooden door and ahead of her Hermione could see the living room. She closed the front door silently and then took another step in. Cloaks, jackets and a flowery apron hung from hooks on the wall right beside the door.

Hermione tried to not be drawn into the homey atmosphere the house seemed to emit, but crept silently towards the wooden door, her wand still in hand. She stood with her back against the wall as she cautiously opened the door with her left hand. As nothing happened she peeked into the room behind and found the kitchen. There was a hearth, cupboards and the window opposite the door showed a view out to the front yard with the apple tree. The sun shone merrily on the herbs growing in flowerpots, which stood on the window sill. A small table stood in one corner and Hermione could see two cups and a coffee pot standing on top. She didn't enter the kitchen but turned towards the living room. Just like the kitchen and the hallway this room, too, was not very tidy but felt somehow cosy and full of life. Magazines lay scattered on the coffee table, and the sofa looked so welcoming. It invited her to sit down, wrap that many-coloured quilt around her and relax.

Hermione sighed and shortly wondered how that house was looking like in her time period. Had it been repaired after Lord Voldemort had so ruthlessly attacked its inhabitants on that October night? Or had it been torn down? Somehow she hoped that new people had moved in and that it now again looked so warm and friendly.

But, she reminded herself, she wasn't here to get all teary eyed and nostalgic. She actually needed to find that cloak. So Hermione entered the living room and stepped towards a commode. Unfortunately, a simple summoning charm wouldn't do the trick, as the Invisibility Cloak was immune to any spells. She would have to do it the old fashioned way. A flick of her wand and black gloves appeared on her hands. She softly chuckled as she realized how stupid it was trying to avoid leaving fingerprints. These were the forties after all. But she was from the nineties and a Muggleborn on top of it. So, no fingerprints of her on the scene of crime. Hermione searched through the drawers, but in the end she didn't find any signs of a cloak.

After a while, she gave up, left the living room and turned towards the stairs. Hopefully the cloak was somewhere up there, she thought as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. Upstairs, she tried to first door and stepped into a small room. The walls were painted in a cheerfully red colour. A desk stood under a window and Hermione could see parchment, quills and pens, lying on the desktop. A bookshelf stood on one wall, and Hermione recognized a few of the books. Standard Book of Spells Grade Three, Intermediate Transfiguration, A History of Magic, those were Hogwarts textbooks. This was probably Diana's room. Hermione left the room again. She actually didn't expect the cloak to turn up in Diana's room. She entered the next room. A double bed stood in the middle. Opposite from the bed stood a rather large wardrobe. Now this was more like it, Hermione thought and entered the room. She saw a picture standing on the bedside table. It showed the couple she had seen back in Hogwarts sitting with Diana at a table. Obviously, this was the room of Diana's parents. Again, Hermione felt like a lousy thief as she stepped towards the huge wardrobe.

Well, you are a thief, Granger, a voice reminded her unnecessarily. Hermione just stuffed her guilty conscience in a dark corner of her mind and opened the wardrobe door.

A while later, Hermione still hadn't found the cloak, she cursed under her breath as she raked around in the clothes and decided to stop trying to leave no tracks. It wouldn't have been successful anyway, she thought as she sorted through what seemed to be Mrs Potter's skirts. This wardrobe was really packed with clothes. She would clearly need some time to go through everything. Hermione sighed and put the things, she had looked at already, down on the bed.

It was a quarter of an hour later that Hermione searched through a drawer of socks. So, far she hadn't come up with anything. Frustration came over her as she rummaged through the socks. Then suddenly, she heard the front door being opened. Hermione stiffened in shock and her eyes widened in fear.

She heard a male voice calling, "Mum! Dad! You still here? I couldn't make it sooner."

Her heart leapt in panic. Someone was here! Shit! Hermione screamed in her mind as she turned her head around to the door. She hadn't closed it. Shit!

By now she could clearly hear some rustling coming from downstairs. It sounded as if someone put off their cloak. This was not good at all. She bit her lip as she looked back at the wardrobe in front of her. Up to now, she hadn't even gone through half of it, and she didn't know if the cloak really was somewhere inside.

There were more noises, coming from downstairs. Who was that? Hermione stood stock still and didn't moved an inch. Her wand was stowed away in her holster. She just had to flick her wrist and she could apparate away. Her eyes wandered over the chaos she had created while searching the cloak. Clothes were scattered everywhere on the bed and the floor. The Potters would know someone had been here. They would be warned, and Hermione wouldn't be able to enter here again so easily. No, she had to find the cloak now, she thought as her eyes again wandered over the opened wardrobe in front of her. Hermione took a step towards the wardrobe. She needed to be quick now. With shaky hands she frantically tugged at a pile of shirts, sitting on one panel. This was her only chance to find the cloak. She just had to be quick. Maybe a little bit of luck and-

Her heart almost stopped beating as she heard the creaking noise of someone climbing the steps.

"Mom? Dad?" the same voice called again, now dangerously close.

Hermione bit her lower lip in panic as she feverishly searched through another drawer, but no Invisibility Cloak anywhere. She could feel her heart hammering away in her chest as she heard someone reaching the second floor. Hermione hastily ripped the clothes off their coat hangers and threw them on the floor. Still no Invisibility Cloak anywhere.

Too late! Too late! a voice chanted in her head, but she still didn't pull her wand to apparate away. This was her only chance. The steps had now almost reached the room she was in. Just a few seconds and she would be caught. Just as this encouraging thought flew through her mind, Hermione's gaze wandered to a lime green bandbox, standing on the topmost panel. The steps had almost reached her.

Fuck it! she thought wildly as she flicked her wrist, and her wand landed in her hand. A wave of it and the bandbox soared down and landed in her hands.

"Hey!" a deep voice, coming directly from behind her, yelled at her sharply. "Who are you? What are you doing?"

Hermione swallowed hard. Without replying anything, she slowly opened the lid of the bandbox. She slid the lid open and was greeted by a silvery material. Hermione stared down at the Invisibility Cloak, neatly folded in that box. She had made it!

"Put that down!" the voice yelled angrily. "Who are you?"

Hermione's hand tightened around her wand. It was very crucial that no-one saw her here. Her face mustn't be seen. She flexed her right wrist in a small movement, while sending her magic through her wand. Instantly, she could feel the cold, smooth material of a mask, appearing on her face.

Good. Now she just needed to get away from this guy. With him pointing his wand at her back, she couldn't go through the preparations for apparition. She needed to get some distance between them. Hermione pressed the box with the cloak against her body while she whirled around, facing her opponent. She raised her wand at the man, standing in the door, but as her eyes wandered over him, she stopped breathing. His hair was mussed and jet-black. His face, his pose, just everything…

"Harry?" Hermione asked weakly as she stared with wide eyes at the man.

Was that Harry? He looked just the same. Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. A frown appeared between his eyebrows as he stared back at her. That expression looked just like Harry's had whenever something really confused him.

"What…?" he mumbled bewildered.

Hermione's gaze wandered to his eyes, but she wasn't met by a vibrant green. His eyes were brown. Painful disappointment grabbed her heart, almost constricting her, as she realized that his man was not Harry.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, her voice muffled by that mask on her face.

Then she quickly brandished her wand. A red curse left her wand, but before it reached this Harry image, he waved his own wand and yelled,

"Protego!"

A blue shield appeared around him and her Stunner vanished harmlessly, without hitting him. Hermione pressed her mouth into a thin line. Whatever had she thought? That she could bring him down with a simple Stunner? He was most probably Harry's granddad! As she stared at the man in front of her, she could feel herself trembling slightly. She wasn't able to fight against him. He looked too strikingly like Harry. She couldn't fight against Harry.

Suddenly, the black haired man, waved his wand at her while yelling, "Expelliarums!"

Hermione reacted instantly. She brought up her own wand and waved it in the familiar pattern. A shield appeared before her and the disarming spell harmlessly impacted with her shield before it vanished into thin air.

Dammit! Hermione cursed as she waved her wand to end the shield. The man brandished his wand again, surely to attack. Hermione couldn't be engaged in a fight any longer. She had to get away from here. Before he could finish his curse, Hermione swirled her own wand.

"Depulso!" she cried while pointing her wand at that black haired man.

It was just a fourth year charm, but the advantage lay in the simple wand movements. So she had been able to finish the charm way before that black haired guy had completed his own curse. He was forced to stop his attack to quickly form a shield around himself. He would surely be able to fend her charm off, but Hermione didn't care. Right after she had released the charm, she sprinted towards the man. Her charm impacted with the shield, causing no further harm, and the shield around him disappeared again. Hermione could see that man's eyes widen in surprise as she rammed her shoulder into him. He was a lot taller than her and surely heavier, too, but she had caught him off guard, and he lost his balance. He stumbled a few steps backwards, trying to catch his balance again. But that was enough for Hermione. The man didn't block the door any longer. She used his moment of bafflement, slipped past him through the door, out of the room and ran towards the stairs.

"Hey!" he yelled after her. "Stop!"

Hermione dashed down the flight of stairs while she still pressed the bandbox tightly against her. She reached the first floor and ran to the front door. As she flung open the door, she could hear the man on the stairs. He was following her.

Rather persistent.

Hermione left the house, rushed through the front yard, past the apple tree and out through the creaking gate. Then she turned left and raced down the street leading out of Godric's Hollow. What she needed right now was a save apparition point. Hermione continued running down the lane at full speed. She could hear the man still behind her. He was catching up with her. Hermione passed the hedge, fencing the Potter's yard, and ran out of the village. By now she was pretty much out of breath but still didn't dare slowing down. She chanced a glance backwards and could see that black haired man only a few metres behind her. Just a matter of time and he would catch up.

Hermione abruptly turned direction and ran off the street. More fruit trees were standing in straight lines. She grabbed her wand tighter. She would have to be fast now. There would only be seconds before the man would reach her. She stopped running and instantly went through the familiar preparations. She waved her wand and then turned on the spot. She could see the man extending his hand as if to grab her, but he was too late and the feeling of dark pressure welcomed her. The box with the Invisibility Cloak still pressed against her chest, Hermione disapparated from Grodric's Hollow.

Breathing very hard, she reappeared, standing in the shadow of a concrete wall. She bent forward, taking in deep breaths of air while she leaned with her hand against the wall. After she had calmed her breathing down again, she raised her head. She seemed to be standing in a small backyard. Hermione furrowed her brow. Then she took in a sharp breath of air, as realisation hit her. Just now, she had broken the first law of apparition: Destination. She had been so determined to escape that guy, she hadn't focused on where she actually wanted to disapparate to.

Brilliant, Hermione, a voice told her dryly. You're lucky you're not splinched all over the country.

Well, she wasn't dead. So, success there. Hermione snorted wryly, then she raised her hand to her face to remove that mask, she had conjured up earlier. At least that had been some quick thinking. Otherwise her face would be all over the papers tomorrow. She slipped the mask off her face. Then she just stared with wide eyes at the mask in her hand, her breathing was quickened again. It was a smooth white mask, covering the whole face. That kind of mask was awfully familiar and staring down at that emotionless face made her actually very sick. How… why had she conjured up that thing? Hermione had no idea why this had appeared as she had wanted to cover her face. She just raised her wand and waved it quickly over that disgusting thing. It disappeared into thin air.

"Okay…" she whispered in a shaky voice. "That doesn't mean anything."

She swallowed hard, and pushed that strange event off her mind. Then she focused on the bandbox again. She had clamped to box under her arm, but now opened it again. Relief struck her as she was greeted by the silvery material of the Invisibility Cloak. She took the cloak out of the box and carefully put it into her bag.

Now, she scanned her surroundings more closely. Wherever had she apparated to? It took her some time, as everything was so different, but then it struck her. She recognized that brick house, some twenty metres away. Very familiar. She stared at that house while clenching her jaw almost painfully. Reaching for the brim of the concrete wall, she heaved herself up. Hermione sat down on the wall, dangling her legs. On the other side of the wall was a small street. There were more houses, and even some cars drove by. This street was completely different, much smaller, but Hermione still knew where exactly she was right now.

I shouldn't be so surprised. She inwardly groaned as she stared at the scenery in front of her. When was the last time she'd been here? Almost two years ago. Or, considering her strange form of being, more than fifty years from now. Why did she have to apparate here? she wondered annoyed. She didn't want to be here. Yet, she sat here and stared at the house in front of her. It wasn't the same house, but it was the same place.

Home… she mused pensively. Today she had been confronted with that concept one too many times. First, all those happy families in Hogwarts, then that invitingly warm and homey feeling in the Potters' house. And that Harry look-a-like…

No wonder she ended up here. Of all places. Hermione shifted slightly on the stone wall, she sat on. It was pleasantly warmed by the sun. People walked by, some of them casting curious glances at the strange woman sitting on the wall. Now and then a car drove by.

She always tried to avoid it to think too much about her home. It was gone, burned down. It didn't make too much sense to think about it anymore. Hermione shuddered slightly as suddenly a cold draft hit her. The wind ruffled up her already frizzy hair. She didn't care. Her hair was always a mess anyway. The wind was probably making it less tousled than it was before. Despite that strangely hollow feeling inside of her, a small smile started to tug at the corners of her mouth as she remembered whom she owed to have such unmanageable hair.

As she had been younger, way before she had gone off to Hogwarts, she had often wondered why her hair was like this. Her mother, for one, had always had beautiful, long and straight dark-brown hair. Hermione had envied that nice hair and she had been confused as to how she had ended up with that curly mob on her head. That was before she had one day flipped through one of her parents' old photo albums. There she had seen him: her dad. The photo had been taken in the year of 1970 and her dad had been only seventeen back then. The smile on Hermione's face grew a bit. On the photo her dad hadn't worn the short haircut he had always sported since she could remember. No, his hair had been incredibly long as it had fallen down over his green batik t-shirt. Very long and above else: curly. Maybe his hair had been a shade lighter than her own, but aside from that, it had been just the same mess of curls.

Strange, how one remembered such things. Hermione sighed softly while her gaze wandered over the street in front of her, and then to the house standing at the opposite side of the street. It was almost two years ago, but sometimes it still hit her how much she actually missed them. Today had been such a day.

'You and your lousy Muggle parents are worth less than the muck, sticking under my boots.' Tom's words suddenly and very mercilessly run through her head. Hermione clenched her teeth as she was hit by a wave of anger.

How could he say something like that? Tom didn't even know her parents. How dare he insult them? He did not know anything about them. Just that they had been Muggles. But obviously, that was enough for him. That was all he needed to know. Hermione's gaze wandered over the row of houses in front of her. Her house was missing, another stood in its place. The house of her childhood wasn't even built yet. Here, it wasn't even built yet and in the future it was destroyed. Just like herself, Hermione mused. She didn't belong in this time period either, but there was no place for her in the future anymore.

Now, you are getting melodramatic, she chastised herself as she stood up from her place on the wall. Whether there was a place for her or not, the future was her destination. Her hand wandered shortly to her bag. The Invisibility Cloak was still there, she ascertained satisfied. There was no reason to be so morose. This day had been a success. Her mission was, for once, completed. Yet a step closer to being able to travel back into her time period. It was still better than to stay here in the past, she decided and hopped off the wall and down into that back yard again. No-one would see her from the street now, so she flicked her wrist and her wand landed in her hand. It was time to return to Hogwarts. As tempting as it was to stay here, she eventually had to return to the castle and its inhabitants. She twirled on the spot and disapparated from her home town, this time with a destination in her head.

The dark pressure of apparition engulfed her for a few seconds then it left again and Hermione opened her eyes. She stood exactly where she had left Hogwarts a few hours ago. As not to draw unwanted attention to her short trip, she had disapparated from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. So now she stood, rather secluded, a fair distance away from the castle. She just had to creep back to the castle and everything should be fine. She stowed the wand away in its holster and took off towards the castle. She hadn't taken more than a few steps as she saw someone approaching her. Hermione took in a sharp breath of air. If someone had seen her disapparating from Hogwarts' grounds, she was in deep trouble. Who could that be? Hopefully, not any teacher. It would take a lot of explaining to talk her way out of this.

She stood stock still as that person neared her. Hermione's eyes widened in shock as she recognized Tom. Since he had assaulted her in the Library this morning, she hadn't seen him, but here he was again. This was rather suspicious, actually, she decided.

Why was Tom here?

Hermione was angered with herself as she suddenly felt hope flaring up in her. Maybe Tom wanted to apologize for everything? But that was a ridiculous hope. He would never apologize. Hermione quickly snuffed that traitorous feeling as she watched him nearing her. Sure enough, as her gaze wandered over his face, she could spot a hostile look. He stared back at her and there was unmistakably hate smoldering behind his steel hard eyes. As he was still a few metres away from her, he stopped and eyed her in disgust. Sorrow ripped at Hermione as she stared back at him. It was unbearable to have him looking at her in this way. The softness that had always been glinting in his eyes whenever he had looked at her was completely gone.

Hermione balled her hands into tight fists and she could feel tears building up in her as she was hit by his merciless gaze, but she didn't allow her feelings to show. Her face was a mask, hiding her inner anguish. Maybe Tom was good in hiding his emotions, but she was not bad either, Hermione thought.

"What do you want?" she asked him in a low voice. It was so strange, that voice. It didn't sound like her at all. It was icy cold and emotionless.

His grey eyes wandered over her form, and Hermione had to work to stop herself from squirming under his scrutiny. The tears still wanted to run from her eyes as she saw the disgust on his handsome face, but she wouldn't allow herself to cry in front of him. Her throat may constrict now, but she wouldn't let her façade crumble. Tom didn't need to know how very much she was hurt by his behaviour.

"Where did you go?" he asked in a sharp voice, which was missing all softness she had come to associate with him.

"None of your business," Hermione replied harshly.

Tom didn't seem to be impressed by her cold exterior but continued to scan her disdainfully.

"How can you break Hogwarts' wards?" was all he said in this sharp, commanding tone.

Hermione didn't immediately reply but looked at him while she made sure that her mask was still firmly in place, covering her every emotion.

"Do you expect me to just tell you?" she asked him quietly. The emotionless tinge in that voice would have made her shudder, but she suppressed that, too.

Tom's steel hard eyes still watched her. Then she could see an offensive smirk curling up his mouth.

"Actually, yes," he finally scoffed in cruel amusement. "It's obvious that someone like you is overchallenged by so much power."

Hermione's mouth formed a thin line as she now glared at him. 'Someone like her'? She knew all too well what he was talking about here. Tom obviously thought that something powerful like the Elder Magic, shouldn't be wasted on a lowly Muggleborn.

The anger ruled her next actions as Hermione opened her mouth and said in a snide tone, "If I can't control such power, how are you supposed to have a chance then?"

Immediately she could see a murderous red sheen seeping into Tom's eyes, and his dark magic started to dance around him sinisterly. Before Hermione could comprehend what happened, a bright light came soaring towards her. Instinctively, she plunged to the side so that the curse rushed over her, missing her by inches. Her eyes darted to Tom, and she could see that he had drawn his wand and was pointing it at her. Just now he had attacked her, Hermione realized numbly. A tight knot took form in her stomach, but for the time being she chose to ignore it. Instead she flicked her wrist so that her black wand landed in her hand. Now was not the time to indulge into sadness, for it seemed that Lord Voldemort had once again decided to attack her. Still, something crumbled inside of her as she looked at Tom.

"You really shouldn't insult me, Mudblood," he threatened maliciously.

Hermione could feel his angry magic all over the place while he stood there, looking composed and self-assured with an unsavoury smirk distorting his face. He looked as if it was the most normal of things to attack one's girlfriend.

I am not his girlfriend anymore! Hermione thought while hot fury bubbled up in her. How did that saying go again? The best defence is a good offence?

Hermione jumped to her feet while simultaneously waving her wand then she cried, "Discessum!"

An angrily yellow-green curse left her wand, bristling with magic as it rushed towards Tom. Before it could make contact with him, he lazily brandished his wand thus deflecting the curse's original trajectory. With a loud bang it crashed into the forest floor a few metres beside Tom, leaving behind a huge crater.

He sniggered at her disdainfully, "How very impressive."

He again waved his wand. No spell came flying towards her, but Hermione wasn't reassured because she could feel his magic in the air change slightly. It surrounded her threateningly. Suddenly Tom flicked his wand and Hermione gasped in pain as she was pushed to the ground. Though there was nothing pushing her, it was more like gravity had increased to the point where she was not able to stand upright anymore. Hermione gasped for air, but it was impossible to inflate her lungs. Even the leaves on the forest floor around her were crushed flat to the ground. Black dots began to dance in her vision, and Hermione could feel unconsciousness tugging at her mind as she was still unable to breathe. Panic ripped at her, but she was too weak to raise her wand or do anything else. Like through a haze she could make Tom out, standing a few metres away from her. She spotted cruel satisfaction on his beautiful face as he watched her mercilessly. Hermione could feel pain cutting through her that had nothing to do with the curse keeping her still hostage. She was not willing to deal with that pain right now, so she drowned it in fury. Using her rage, she forced her magic into a spell even though she was not able to perform the necessary wand movements.

Eximo.

Instantly the pressure left her as Tom's curse was broken. Hermione breathed in deeply as she was finally able to get air into her lungs. But she didn't relax at all, instead she quickly picked herself up from the ground while pointing her wand at Tom. There was a furious scowl on his face as he saw his curse defeated. For a moment they both just glared at each other, assessing the enemy.

Without giving him any advance warning, Hermione slashed her wand in an angry movement. A spell left the tip of her wand and rushed towards Tom. In the mean time he, too, had released a curse. Hermione had no time to erect a shield around her, so Tom's curse crashed violently into her. She was thrown away until the trunk of a tree stopped her flight painfully. A moan escaped her mouth as she hit the tree hard. She slid down the trunk but managed to remain upright. In the mean time, her own curse had hit its target. Tom had conjured up a shield before the curse hit, but he was still hurled away. Unlike her, though, he managed to catch his balance and landed gracefully on his feet. Hermione still pointed the tip of her wand at Tom. The distance between them had expanded to a few metres. Her heart hammered away in her chest, and she wondered how she could take him down. It wouldn't be easy as it seemed they were evenly matched.

Just as this thought flew through her mind, she could feel Tom's magic in the air change. The pressure intensified and his magic started to painfully rip at her body. Hermione's grip on her wand tightened nervously as Tom's magic suddenly grew dark, its power reinforced greatly. She nearly jumped in fright as she saw a malicious grin taking form on Tom's face. Then he whirled his wand to release a sickle of dirty-orange light. It soared towards her at an impossible speed. There wasn't even a second to react. Hermione hurled herself out of the course of his spell. She could feel the heat of the spell as she rolled out of its way and screamed in pain when the curse grazed her shoulder. With a loud crack the curse crashed into a tree trunk. Splinters of wood and bark flew everywhere. Before she had time to catch her breath, Hermione cast a shielding spell around herself. The impact of another powerful curse into her blue shield told her that Tom had attacked her again. Her eyes flew towards him. An angry scowl had appeared on his face. Was he disappointed that his curse hadn't hit her? Hermione turned her head and glanced at her hurt shoulder. Her robes were torn and she could see black, burned skin underneath. The pain, though, hadn't reached her yet. Not in this fight-or-flight situation. Her eyes shot to the destroyed tree beside her. It still stood, but the smoldering hole in its trunk told her that it would fall soon. Had Tom really risked hitting her with such a destructive curse? Hermione wondered frantically.

Focus! another, colder, part of herself yelled at her aggressively. She was still huddled on the soft forest floor as she ended her shield to cast a curse of her own.

Verbero!

Instantly smoke erupted in a thin line from her wand's tip to then form into a silver rope. The solid end of the rope snaked towards Tom, ready to attack him, but he remained standing where he was and just eyed the silver rope in boredom. With a small casual flick of his wand, Hermione's silver rope lost its form and quickly transformed into smoke again.

"This is not the classroom, DeCerto," Tom cruelly scoffed at her. "Please, at least make an effort."

Hermione was shocked that he had so easily stopped her spell, so she didn't notice how Tom's left hand slid into his robe pocket as he mocked her. He pulled something silvery from the pocket and as he was finished with insulting her he swiftly threw the silver thing at her.

Hermione hadn't counted on him using something else than magic to attack her with, so she was unprepared as a small silver dagger flew towards her. Only her fast reflexes saved her as she brought up her arm to protect her face. A sharp pain cut through her right forearm as the dagger sliced deep into her flesh. Instantly hot blood flowed from the wound. Hermione stared at the silver knife, which was embedded deeply into her arm. Before she could pull it out, Tom flicked his fingers and the dagger shot out of her arm and flew back towards him. He elegantly caught it by its handle.

Hermione stared with wide eyes at him. A mad grin twisted up his handsome features as he examined the silver dagger in his hand. She could see that her blood still dripped from its blade. Tom brandished his wand in a complicated pattern over the blood-stained knife while he chanted an incantation Hermione did not understand. Suddenly, Tom pointed his wand at her and without her permission her magic welled up in her until all of it crackled around her. The smile on Tom's face grew even more sinister as he moved his wand towards the dagger. Hermione was horrified as her magic followed Tom's wand movement. She could feel her magic leaving her body as it was sucked towards the small dagger in Tom's hand. The steady pulse of power had completely left her, and she stared, now quite defenceless, at Tom.

"I advise you to surrender and tell me everything I want to know," the softness in his voice couldn't belie the cruel malice that lay underneath.

His eyes wandered to the wand in her hand and a strangely hungry look appeared on Tom's face. Then he looked up at her face and continued, in the same cold voice, "Or else, face the consequences."

Hermione stared at him with wide, scared eyes, while she cradled her still bleeding right arm. How could he do that? How could Tom Riddle command such powerful magic? She would have never been able to do what he had just so casually done. Even now, at this age, Lord Voldemort was overwhelmingly strong. There was no way she would ever be able to beat Tom. He was way too strong.

The evil smile on his face widened as he scanned her now, seemingly pleased with the fear he had invoked. Then he suddenly raised his wand again and slashed it in an angry movement. Hermione recognized the spell. It was a simple cutting hex, maybe improved by Tom's powerful magic, but still only fourth year material. Instinctively, Hermione waved her own wand to release the counter-spell. She took in a sharp breath of air, and her blood ran cold with panic as there was no spell leaving her wand. There was no response at all coming from her wand. Just nothing.

The hex, though, still rushed towards her. Shortly before it would cut into her chest, Hermione brought her arms up to protect herself. She hissed in pain as she felt the hex hitting her, slashing open the skin of her forearms and slicing deep into her flesh. It felt as if somebody had dragged a knife over her forearms. Hermione's hands began to shake. She lowered her arms and stared at Tom. Both her arms were hanging down her sides. Hot blood flowed down her hands and dripped on the forest floor. Tom still looked at her and Hermione was appalled to find twisted mirth and glee on his face as he scanned the wounds he had inflicted.

He opened his mouth and his voice was thick with overt disdain, "You are pathetic, Mudblood. Just tell me everything and spare me to waste more time on you."

She closed her eyes to block out the image of Tom with that aversion glinting in his eyes. What to do? She couldn't tell him anything about the Elder Magic, and she shouldn't forget that right now the Invisibility Cloak was hidden in her bag. He must never gain the cloak. But if she didn't tell him at least about the Elder Wand, Hermione knew Tom would not hesitate to hurt her. He was capable of a lot of things.

He must not know the truth! an angry voice insisted. Hermione's right hand tightened around her now useless wand. Her blood still ran down her arm, over her hand and then down the black wood. As she stood there with closed eyes, desperation washing over her, she suddenly noticed that not all magic had left her. A very familiar strand of pulsing magic suddenly welled up in her.

Elder Magic! Of course! It hadn't left her. The Elder Magic did not really belong to her. It was a foreign power in her body, and thus it was neither bound to her nor to her blood. Tom's spell had not been able to summon the Elder Wand's magic from her to bind it to her blood on the silver dagger. Hermione hesitated to draw upon Peverell's twisted creation. She opened her eyes and looked at the murderous expression on Tom's face. He scanned her coldly, clearly expecting an answer and promising her severe punishment should she not submit to him. This time it wouldn't be a harmless cutting hex.

Hermione breathed in deeply. There was not much of a choice, so she let the Elder Magic take her again. How much she might hate Peverell and his warped magic, it seemed she was once again dependent on it. Hermione winced slightly as she felt a painful jolt as the Elder Magic took hold of her. The magic was changed now that her own magic wasn't mingled with it. It felt different as it crackled, unadultered, around her.

Hermione saw Tom taking a step away from her as he felt the Elder Magic in the air. Finally, his haughty conduct seemed to leave him. Her gaze wandered over him and she noticed that he had stiffened slightly. There went her effort of hiding the Elder Wand's power from him, Hermione thought dryly. Though she assumed that Tom already knew at least a bit about that power inside of her.

Her eyes arrived at the silver dagger which Tom still held in his hand. With the Elder Magic's help Hermione was able to see her own magic as a bluish mist, swirling around the dagger. She sent strands of the Elder Magic towards the dagger and could feel the powerful spells Tom had created to imprison her magic and bind it to her blood on the dagger's blade. Very powerful magic, and clearly dark.

Pitch-black, actually, she thought numbly.

She knew that the Elder Magic, being itself rather dark, could break those spells. She ordered Peverell's creation to latch onto the silver dagger to then start to take down Tom's net of spells. Hermione saw how the dagger started to vibrate heavily in Tom's hand. His eyes widened in shock as he tried to hold onto it, but it was no use. She could feel his spells yield. The binding magic finally broke, and Tom had to let go of the dagger. It fell down but before it had even reached the ground, the Elder Magic had wrapped around the bluish mist that was Hermione's magic, and had guided it back to her. Hermione was relieved as she felt her own magic merging with her body. It quickly spread through her and mixed with the Elder Magic. As Hermione looked back at Tom, she found a shocked expression on his face. But she didn't wait for him to regain his composure, instead she waved her wand quickly in a complicated pattern.

Vulnero! she screamed in her mind while pointing her want at Tom.

A bright, white light soared towards Tom. Her curse was greatly backed up by the Elder Magic and crackled violently as it attacked Tom. Hermione wasn't surprised to see him waving his own wand, erecting a greenish shield. Her curse impacted hard with Tom's shield. Hermione could see him stumbling a step back as he was confronted with the force behind her spell. His greenish shield flickered dangerously before it completely died down. It wasn't strong enough to hold Hermione's curse off. Tom's eyes widened in surprise as he saw his shield destroyed. It had been able to take most of the curse's power away, but bits of it managed to reach him. Tom winced in pain as he was hit by Hermione's curse. There were now scratches on his left cheek. Drops of blood ran down his face while a frightening dark look appeared in his eyes. He straightened up again and glowered at her. Hermione, though frightened by that evil look on his face, didn't cower away from him. She could feel her magic flowing through her. She was not going to just give up, she decided grimly as she stared back at him.

It was then that Tom slashed his wand at her and hissed maliciously, "Ictus"

Hermione stiffened as he hurled yet another very dangerous curse at her. She knew that one. It was dark. Again a cutting hex, but this one wouldn't just inflict a few minor gashes. If she was hit by its power, the force behind was enough to cut off her arm. Again a hollow feeling took hold of her as she watched his curse angrily rushing towards her. Tom didn't have any problems throwing dangerous curses at her, did he? she wondered numbly. But this was not the time to lose herself in her hurt feelings, Hermione decided and quickly raised her own wand to release a counter-curse. Before Tom's magic could reach her and cause serious damage, Hermione stopped his curse. Before he could react and sent another curse at her, Hermione quickly brandished her wand.

"Phasma!"

It was a borderline dark curse. She knew that, but right now, she didn't care. So far Tom had only used dark magic on her, why should she play fair if he wasn't? Hermione watched as fog arose out of nowhere, slowly engulfing herself and Tom. Though she was still able to make him out, she knew that she was now hidden from his eyes. There was a glint of recognition and even surprise in Tom's cold eyes. He obviously knew that curse.

Slowly shadowy, human-like shapes took form around him. They were made up from the fog and remained blurred, without any steady contour. They flowed into one another while dancing spookily around Tom. Then the figures reached out for him with their formless arms. Hermione watched them wrenching at Tom angrily. He tried to push them away, but his hands went straight through them, just managing to make the fog swirl around. Originally Hermione had wanted to use this spell as a diversion so she could flee Tom, but before she could turn around and hurry away, she suddenly saw a furious look crossing Tom's face. He raised his wand over his left shoulder before he brought it down again in one angry movement. His raw, powerful magic flooded everything. The fog dissolved instantly and with it the shadowy figures. Hermione had to take a shaky step back as she, too, was hit by his angry magic.

She looked at Tom and stiffened as she saw the ruby red colour of his eyes as he scanned her evilly. There was a fearsome look on his face which made cold shivers running down Hermione's spine. Without saying anything he began to wave his wand. His dark magic in the air changed direction and Hermione could already feel the power of the curse Tom wanted to hurl at her, building up in the air. She could even recognize the wand movements.

This was very dark and very dangerous magic. It was a powerful curse that could - and would - seriously injure her. Tom had told her once, how he had used that very same curse as he had been barely eleven years old. Back then he hadn't been able to flawlessly perform the curse but Hermione didn't doubt that now he would be more than capable to complete it. The Haz Curse would transform Tom's hatred for her into magical power. Then this newly created power would mercilessly attack her. Did Tom really want to hurl something like that at her? Hermione wondered and could feel how her stomach knotted.

"Stop!" she yelled desperately before he had finished his curse.

Unexpectedly, Tom really stopped his wand movement, but the malice didn't leave his face as he now stared at her.

She looked at him with wide eyes before she whispered in a broken voice, "What are you doing?"

Sadness tore at her unrelentingly as she then had to watch a vile sneer twisting up his face.

"Something I should have done a long time ago," he replied cruelly.

She still scanned Tom. The red colour danced viciously in his eyes. Pure malice, fury and hate radiated from the wizard, standing just a few metres away from her, and all of it was directed at Hermione. She tried to reign in her emotions but the sorrow was ripping at her almost unbearably.

"Why?" she asked softly, still managing to ban the desperation from her voice. "I thought we wer-"

"You are nothing but filth," Tom cut across her rabidly. Then his hate-filled eyes once again wandered over her before he said, his voice cold as ice, "I can't believe how much time I wasted with something like you. Scum like you doesn't even belong here. You should have stayed away from the magical world. We don't want you here and we don't need you here. You are polluting this world with your unclean blood, posing as a witch when it is plain to see that you're nothing but trash."

Hermione just stared at him. She couldn't say anything in face of his contempt. Then his anger seemed to leave him and the blood red colour vanished from his eyes. But she knew, in reality his hate was still there. Now it was just hidden behind a mask of indifference.

Hermione felt sick as there suddenly appeared a polite smile on his face. Then he said in a light, almost conversational, voice, "You know, it disgusts me now." The genial smile never left his face as he continued, "How I've slept with you. Makes me want to throw up."

Hermione took in a sharp breath of air as she heard his words. She bit the inner side of her cheek hard to stop herself from sobbing. There was the taste of blood in her mouth as she continued to stare at him numbly. By now her breathing was ragged and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. Tom on the other hand seemed to be calm and composed. There was a derisive sneer on his face as he eyed her coldly.

"The only one disgusting here, is you," Hermione whispered softly.

She knew her voice was cracking, but she couldn't do anything about it. There was no reason to do so either. That self-satisfied smirk on Tom's face told her that he knew very well how much he had hit her. It hurt so very much, the contempt she could see shining through his scorn. But Hermione just swallowed down her upcoming tears and clenched her teeth as she looked back at him, holding her head high. She wasn't going to break down. Not now and not here. Her hand, holding her black wand, tightened around the smooth wood. She raised her wand and flicked it in one sharp movement.

Ulciscor, she thought.

A curse left her wand's tip and rushed towards Tom. Obviously, he had been unprepared for any attack. The power behind her spell didn't leave him time to erect a shield. There was no gratification as Hermione saw that her aim was true and the curse hit Tom. Again, her curse was dark, but Hermione didn't care anymore. Tom winced in pain and stumbled a step backwards as the curse, in form of an electric blue bolt, snaked around him. Hermione still pointed her wand at Tom thus maintaining her attack. The curse was powerful, Hermione knew, not easy to throw off, and it would leave behind painful marks.

Tom raised his wand, she could see that he had difficulties moving at all, and waved the wand in an attempt to bring down her curse. He whispered something under his breath while pain was visible on his face. It was then that Hermione could feel her magic losing its grip on Tom. It wasn't long and he managed to completely throw the curse off. His eyes wandered back at her and Hermione saw that they had turned an aggressive red again. Without saying anything, Tom brandished his wand. Obviously, he wanted to complete the Haz curse he had started previously. His magic ripped at her dangerously, preparing to attack.

Hermione didn't want to fight on. She didn't want to find out if Tom would really hurl that curse at her. She drew upon the Elder Magic and with a whirl of her black robes, she stepped into the pressure of apparition. The last thing she saw before plunging into darkness were those beautiful grey eyes filled with cruel contempt and hate.

She reappeared on top of the Astronomy tower, though this time not on the platform but the actual roof top. Hermione stumbled, fell on her back and nearly slid down the slippery tiles, but then managed to hook one arm around the stone gargoyle guarding the rim of the roof. Her legs dangled over the rim, but she managed to end up in a sitting position. One arm was still slung around the stone figure to steady herself. She was so high up that her fear of heights hit her hard. That was exactly the reason why she had apparated here. The fear now ripping at her at least managed to numb her other emotions. Not enough, though, to stop that steady flow of tears running from her eyes. Silent sobs shook her body as Hermione clung, almost desperately, to the stone gargoyle.

'You are nothing but filth!' His words didn't stop to run through her head. He was so wrong. How dare he insult her like this? She should hate him for doing this. But instead of that hate there only coursed sorrow and grief through her. She felt so hopeless. He only needed to say a few words and would manage to cut through all her defences, tearing open painful wounds. Why was she so weak? She had already gone through so much; why did it hurt? She was supposed to be stronger than this. She should be ashamed of herself.

Hermione breathed in deeply trying to calm down.

"The mission, Granger!" she hissed angrily at herself. "You still have the mission!"

Yes, that was true. There was purpose!

She ran a shaky hand over her face, wiping away hot tears. It didn't matter. Nothing of it. Her feelings were neglectable. Maybe she felt painfully hollow inside, but that was not important. Her feelings should be shoved aside. This pain was not really there. It didn't belong to her. It was not needed. Not important to accomplish the mission.

Hermione's arm tightened around the stone gargoyle until its sharp points bored into her body painfully. But what did she care? The traitorous tears finally stopped to run from her eyes. Hermione raised her wand and waved it mechanically over her left shoulder. Instantly the torn material repaired itself so that it hid the burned skin underneath. Another wave of her wand and all the dirt, blood and dead leaves left her. She was clean again and nothing indicated she had just now fought with the most dangerous wizard she had ever known.

Hermione leaned a little bit forward and ignored her fear of heights as she peered down at the Astronomy platform a few metres below her current position. No-one was there, she noticed relieved. Using the Elder Magic, she apparated down to the platform. She staggered a little bit as she reappeared on the platform. Vertigo hit her as she had to stand up-right. Finally, the pain, coming from her wounds, was no longer concealed by adrenalin, pumping through her veins. A sharp pain came from her arms where the cutting hex had sliced open her skin. The wound on her shoulder, though, was a lot worse. It hurt so much, she was feeling slightly sick. For now, though, Hermione ignored the pain and just checked her watch. Not even five. There still was some time until dinner would be served in the Great Hall. Then the parents would leave the castle after what must have been a pleasant day with their children. Hermione let her gaze shortly wander over the Scottish landscape, she could see from her point on the Astronomy platform. It looked so nice and inviting while the sun shone brightly.

Hermione turned around, entered the castle and started to make her way towards Gryffindor tower. Aas she finally entered the common room she found it deserted. Everybody seemed to still be together with their parents, passing their time in Hogsmeade or sitting by the Great Lake in the sunshine. Hermione quickly ascended the stairs leading up to Gryffindor her dorm. She entered and found it deserted then she waved her wand at the door, thus locking it. Most likely she wasn't going to be disturbed, but Hermione didn't want to risk anything. As she had reached her part of the dorm, she cautiously tried to take off her cloak. She hissed in pain as the material of the cloak rubbed over the burn on her shoulder. Under the cloak, Hermione still wore her mauve blouse. She could see that both her sleeves were soaked in her own blood, which still flowed from the cuts in her arms. Slowly, she moved out of the blouse. Some of the blood had already clotted and now she ripped it off the cuts. Hermione suppressed a moan of pain and discarded her ruined blouse on the floor.

She sat down on the edge of her bed and examined her wounds. On her right forearm, just a few inches under her elbow, Hermione could see a wound shaped like the crescent moon. That was the entry wound of the dagger Tom had hurled at her. Well, it was still better than if his dagger had hit its original target: her face. Hermione's gaze wandered from the relatively small knife-induced injury to the deep and long slashes the cutting hex had left behind. They run in a slight angle over the full length of both her forearms. Blood was running freely from the cuts.

Hermione sat on her bed and just stared at her bleeding arms. She observed numbly how the blood was flowing from the deep cuts down her arms, leaving behind bright red tracks on her skin, then it dropped from her hands to the floor. Slowly, a small puddle of blood was building on the dark wood of the floor. She watched with an odd emotional detachment how that pool of blood grew bigger. She balled her hands into tight fists and as a result more blood streamed from the cuts.

She shook her head as she stared down at all the blood. How had this happened? She closed her eyes. A painful emptiness was ripping at her. It hurt a lot more than those cuts in her arms.

Suddenly, an image of Harry flickered through her mind. She could see his startling green eyes laughing at her as he smiled at her encouragingly. Harry had never given up. He had always fought on, even as everybody else had long since lost hope. He had fought until the end. He would never give up. Hermione opened her eyes again and looked down at her heavily bleeding arms. Harry had always been strong. A lot stronger than her actually. She didn't want to disappoint him.

She reached for the black wand she had discarded on her bed. Then she pointed it at her trunk and instantly her first aid kit soared out of the trunk and landed softly on the bed beside her. Another wave of her wand and the blood around the cuts clotted quickly before it completely crusted over the wounds. Hermione reached for one of the potion vials in the wooden box. She removed the stopper and began to administer the potion to the cuts. It was a greyish goo that smelled strongly of burnt car tires, but it would fasten the healing and help keeping the wounds from breaking open. After smearing the potion on the cuts, Hermione waved her wand and the blood vanished from her skin. Then she conjured up bandages that wrapped around her wounded arms.

Now that she had dealt with the cuts, Hermione turned her head and looked at the wound on her shoulder. She could see that the skin was completely burned away and her flesh underneath was, to some degrees, charred black. It was worrying that the immediate area of the wound didn't hurt at all. Only the rims of the huge burn ached sharply. This numbness of the wound suggested that the heat of the curse had burned really deep into her and had destroyed the nerves. Luckily, she was still able to move her left arm normally. That, at least, meant the injury wasn't going to restrict her ability to use the arm. Hermione again reached for the wooden box and produced a small pot out of it. It contained a green ointment. She took some of the ointment to apply it to the burn mark. She could hardly feel anything as her fingers touched the burned flesh. She slathered the ointment on the burn before she waved her wand again and a thick, soft mull wound itself loosely around her shoulder.

After having tended to her injuries, Hermione angled a blue blouse from her trunk and slipped into it. The fabric of the blouse concealed everything perfectly. No-one would be able to tell that underneath the pale blue material, painful injuries marred her skin. Though, Hermione could feel it. Not only the pain, but something else. Everything felt different, now, that he had attacked her like that. This had been more than a slap in the face. Much more.

Hermione stared vacantly down at the black wand in her hand. He had used dangerous, dark curses on her and had risked her getting seriously injured. He had even wanted to throw the Haz Curse at her. Again, he had mocked her. Had called her scum and trash.

… unclean…

Hermione could feel the coldness radiating from those words. It wrapped around her and quickly spread through her whole body. As he had attacked her, Hermione had felt something crumble inside of her. It seemed to still be broken into pieces.

Stop this! You always knew who he is, an angry voice now hissed at her sharply. Hermione breathed in and exhaled slowly. Then she reached for her bag. She opened it and was met by the familiar silvery fabric of the Invisibility Cloak. A small smile lit up on her face as she looked down at the silvery cloak. She cautiously pulled the cloak out of the bag. Its material felt smooth and cool in her hands, just as if the fabric was interlaced with fine, metallic threads. Hermione looked misty-eyed down at the cloak. The small smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth, as she remembered how she had seen that cloak for the first time. It had been in her first year that Dumbledore had given Harry the cloak; an heirloom from Harry's deceased father.

And a very useful one at that, Hermione mused as her eyes wandered over the silvery cloak. Harry and Ron hadn't hesitated to use that cloak for their stupid adventures and night time strolls, she remembered amused. More often than not, the cloak had saved them their necks. Or at least spared them a detention. And she…

She had done her best to lecture the two of them after each of their rash ventures. Hermione chuckled softy as she looked down at the cloak. For the first time since an eternity, she allowed her good memories to embrace her. She didn't fight them off, but let them unfold in her mind. Normally, those memories frightened her, maybe even more so than all those horrible pictures the war had left her behind with. Those happy memories were dangerous, as they reminded her of a careless time that was lost to her. To think of that happy time made her present life seem all the more bitter.

But now, as she pressed Harry's cloak against her, she wanted to remember. Maybe her friends had died, but they hadn't really left her. Hermione had decided to stop repressing the memories she had from the war. Now, she was ready to allow her good memories to come back to her, too. A small smile grazed her features and it felt good as she lost herself in the memories of her years at Hogwarts.

_._._._._

"Shit!"

Tom furiously slammed the door shut behind him. He pulled his wand and angrily waved it at the bed, standing nearest to him. His dark magic was more than willing to follow his lead. It rushed through his wand and formed into a curse. Flames engulfed the bed and ate hungrily away on the Slytherin-green quilt. Tom ran a hand irately through his hair as he watched the flames destroying the dormitory. Somehow, though, that destructive frenzy didn't manage to calm him down. Despite this act of vandalism, anger still coursed through him. With a frustrated groan, Tom raised his wand and brandished it in a small movement. Instantly, the flames died and the smoking, black remains turned back into a bed. The Slytherin dorm again looked like nothing had happened.

Tom put his wand away and walked to his space of the dorm. He took off his black uniform robe and threw it over the back of his chair, before he slumped down on his bed. He propped himself up against the headboard of the bed and stared with narrowed eyes vacantly in front of him. His anger still ran, in form of is incensed magic, through him. He could feel it ripping at him, begging him, ordering him to be set free.

The magic now pulsing through him, rose his anger lever even further. Why did it choose to show up now? He wondered rabidly. He could have used that hatred behind his magic earlier when he had faced that Muggle.

Then he wouldn't have failed.

That darn curse really wasn't that difficult, was it? Tom thought enraged. But then why had he botched it up? Again? There it had been, the perfect opportunity to get the Unbeatable Wand. And what did he do? He just let it go to waste!

Yes, it was the Elder Wand. After having felt that strange magic radiating off of Hermione, Tom had known that it hadn't come from her. He knew her magic quite well actually which was disgusting enough on its own. But all the same, the magic, that Mudblood had radiated while fighting him, hadn't been her own. It had been powerful and somehow uninhibited. It had felt even feral as it had crackled around her. Tom had bound her magic to his dagger. Hermione shouldn't have been able to perform any magic after that. But he had still felt it, bristling in the air, that unresistable force. That had been the Elder Wand. Tom was sure now.

So, why the hell hadn't he then taken that wand from her? Why hadn't he been able to finish his curse? His wand movements had been perfect. He surely hadn't made any mistakes. Still, as the power had built up, Tom had been able to sense that something was wrong. The whole process had been slow and the power had been inert. He had then known that the result would be just as unacceptable.

Weak! he thought as he angrily sprang up from his bed and began to pace. How could he mess up like that? He wasn't that eleven year old fool anymore! He knew the magic, he had the power to complete the curse. Hell, he even had cast that curse successfully before. But still, he had failed today.

Secretly, Tom was glad that Hermione had left when she did, otherwise she would have witnessed his weakness. He had no idea why the Haz Curse seemed to be such a problem for him. It should have worked. He knew that he had made no mistakes, but still the power behind the curse had been embarrassingly weak. It wouldn't have caused any serious damage. He had wanted to turn his hate into magical energy to then hurl it at that Mudblood, but he had come up with nothing. She would have laughed in his face, Tom thought furiously.

He still needed to somehow acquire the wand from Hermione. That was a given. But it was a complete mystery to him why he hadn't been able to do it today. It irked him a great deal whenever he couldn't manage a spell, and the Haz Curse seemed to quite be elusive.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

Author's notes: So, another chapter. Hope you like it. Very sorry, that Tom still seems to hate our dear Hermione, but you know how he is. Lol.

Thanks to all who wrote a review for me! I love it very much to read your input. Actually helps me, when I'm stuck at one point of the story. ^^

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