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 infrigment is intended.

BEFORE YOU READ: Although I did mention it at some points throughout the story, I haven't been very explicit with it. So I thought it might help understand this chapter if I mentioned that until now TOM HASN'T CREATED ANY HORCRUX. I know that according to canon he should have created at least the diary already. But here he didn't. You can blame that on Hermione's distracting presence ;) oh, and before you flip out at the ending: This is NOT THE LAST CHAPTER. One is still left. And now, go on, enjoy …hopefully.

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Chapter Fifty-One: Monster

Unwillingly Tom opened the door and stepped into the room behind. His cold grey eyes swept with distaste over the rather untidy office until they settled on the man sitting behind the desk. Seeing the old man, Tom was instantly overwhelmed by the desire to either turn around and run or pull his wand. His fingers already itched towards his robe pocket where his wand was stored. Regrettably Tom was stopped as professor Dumbledore offered kindly,

"Sit down, Tom. Can I get you anything? Tea maybe?"

"No, thank you, sir," Tom replied, decidedly polite.

Dumbledore sent him what was probably meant as an encouraging smile. Maybe that worked on his stupid Gryffindor students, but Tom knew very well how fake that smile was.

"Have a seat," Dumbledore said warmly, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk.

Tom only reluctantly complied and stiffly sat down on the edge of the chair. Like always, being in Dumbledore's presence made him incredibly tense. With dread Tom remembered how Hermione had mentioned that Dumbledore had saved her – and by extension Tom himself – from Grindelwald. Of course he knew that Dumbledore wouldn't have lifted a finger if Grindelwald had targeted only Tom and not Hermione. Still, he should probably thank the man – just to keep pretences. Tom opened his mouth but found that he would choke on the words if he really pulled through with it. So instead he asked coldly,

"Why am I here?"

The irritating smile on Dumbledore's face didn't falter. "I just wanted to see how you are doing. In the aftermath of Grindelwald's demise, I didn't find the time until now."

Tom felt hot anger building up in him. As if Dumbledore cared about Tom's well-being. If Grindelwald had killed Tom, Dumbledore would have been the first to celebrate. Tom wasn't very forthcoming with an answer, so the professor inquired kindly,

"How are you feeling? Is your injury healed?"

"Yes, sir," Tom replied, fighting to keep his tone polite. "I'm fine."

"That is good to hear," Dumbledore said happily.

Tom tried not to snort.

"Very good indeed." The professor scanned Tom for a moment. "You must know Hermione was very upset as you got hurt. I think she blamed herself."

"She shouldn't have," Tom supplied curtly, not very keen on discussing Hermione. "It wasn't her fault."

"Of course not," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Still, you were hurt quite badly. Hermione didn't want to leave your side."

Maybe that's why I woke up in a hospital bed totally alone, Tom thought wryly, still feeling bitter that Hermione had abandoned him in the infirmary. He probably should be grateful she hadn't cursed his unconscious form. After all, she had been rather angry about the magical bond between them. Tom's musing was cut short as Dumbledore asked,

"May I ask you something, Tom?"

Tom inclined his head. The fake smile had finally dropped from Dumbledore's face.

"How were you able to find Hermione?"

Tom arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Grindelwald forced Mr Longbottom to portkey Hermione out of Hogwarts," Dumbledore clarified, his tone sharp. "No-one, aside from Grindelwald and his men, knew where that Portkey was headed. So I ask, how could you find her, Tom?"

Tom's mouth narrowed into a thin line. What was the old man insinuating here? Tom forced his angry magic down and instead proclaimed in a sickeningly sweet voice,

"But, sir. You don't think my undying love for Hermione enabled me to find her?"

The calm expression on Dumbledore's face did not falter even as he was hit by the brazen taunt behind Tom's words.

"Indeed a strong thing, love. But I doubt it can be used like a tracking charm," the older wizard said evenly. "Does Hermione know you are monitoring her with that necklace you gave her?"

Of course the old coot would know. Tom's hands tightened around the arm rests of his chair so that his knuckles turned white. Still he kept his voice composed as he replied,

"Yes, she knows. Do you think I could ever lie to her?"

"I should hope you wouldn't," Dumbledore replied warningly. "You know how bright Hermione is. She is not someone you can lie to easily. You would be well advised not to try and deceive her."

"I am not deceiving her in any way," Tom replied acridly. "Hermione trusts me."

"Omitting the truth is as good as telling a lie," replied Dumbledore curtly.

Tom considered omitting his wand and strangling the old bastard with his bare hands. It took him some time to restrain his bloodthirsty urges. In the meantime the professor continued,

"Hermione DeCerto is a very powerful witch. Do not make the mistake and assume you could bend her to your will, Tom. You would certainly lose her."

Tom almost laughed in the old man's face. Maybe Hermione was a bit cross with him at the moment because of her bound magic but Tom was never going to lose her. He would never risk that again.

"Hermione is-" -mine! "-my girlfriend," Tom told the professor frostily. "I really don't think our relationship is any of your concern."

"I see," said Dumbledore.

The almost disappointed touch in his voice made Tom's temper flare even further. He knew that Dumbledore was up to something. The old fool hadn't summoned him to his office just to chitchat about Hermione. Silence descended upon the two wizards. Dumbledore eyed Tom somehow expectantly as if waiting for something. Tom just stared back stoically. He certainly wasn't going to pour out his heart. After a while, Dumbledore spoke again. A grave look on his face, he asked,

"What did you do with Mr Avery?"

Tom sat back in his seat and scanned the other wizard warily. All this talk about Hermione had been a prelude to this, hadn't it? Dumbledore had wanted to unbalance Tom by mentioning Hermione. He had wanted to plant the seeds of guilt.

That never worked with me, Tom thought coldly, inwardly sneering at Dumbledore. Outwardly he pasted a look of confusion and earnest surprise on his face as if unsettled by the blunt question.

"I- I-," Tom stuttered shakily. "W- why would you ask?"

"Mr Avery has been put in the Janus Thickey ward in St. Mungos where he will probably stay for the rest of his life," Dumbledore said, his sharp eyes never leaving Tom. "While his body might still be functioning, his mind has been irrevocably damaged. He will never regain consciousness."

A tremble visibly ran over Tom as he heard it and he breathed in shakily. Dumbledore ignored that display and continued coldly,

"Although a Dementor's attack is the most obvious explanation for Mr Avery's condition, there are a lot of other possible scenarios that could have led to this tragedy."

Tom blinked at the professor and asked, his voice quivering, "What scenarios could that be?"

"Curses, Tom, as you very well know," Dumbledore answered shortly. "Dark Magic."

Tom stared at the professor with wide eyes and asked incredulously, "Y- you think someone cursed Ledo?"

"Yes," Dumbledore supplied his voice hard. "You were among the last to be seen with Mr Avery."

Tom furrowed his brow as he heard that. He looked at Dumbledore with wide innocent eyes and asked, confused,

"Why are you pointing this out, sir?"

Dumbledore folded his hands on the surface of his desk and regarded Tom over his half-moon spectacles. Then he said sharply,

"Tom, I know it was you who attacked Mr Avery."

Tom's body stiffened as he heard the accusation. Swallowing thickly, he averted his eyes from Dumbledore. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, obviously trying to calm himself down. Then Tom raised his eyes and looked at the older wizard insecurely, almost timidly. Shaking his head slightly, Tom pleaded,

"No, sir. I- I didn't. Please, you have to believe me."

"You cannot deny-" Dumbledore replied harshly. "-that the attack on Mr Avery matches quite obviously your modus operandi."

Tom worried his lower lip before he said shakily, "I- I don't have a… a modus operandi."

Dumbledore's penetrating gaze never left Tom as he listed stonily, "A student is found dead. It almost looks like an accident. There are no external injuries nor bears the body any signs of violence. No-one can explain what happened and eventually the incident is ascribed to an animal attack."

"I don't… don't understand what you are talking about," Tom stuttered feebly.

Dumbledore's blue eyes hardened as they wandered over Tom's trembling form. Then he said coldly,

"I am talking about the events from last year which resulted in the death of a student."

Tom blinked at the other, his eyes wide. "M- Myrtle…?"

"For how brilliant you think you are, Tom," said Dumbledore cuttingly. "It is quite easy to see through your doings."

"Please, professor," Tom whispered honestly. "You have it down all wrong. I told you I had nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets incident. And I certainly didn't do anything to Ledo."

"Is that your last word?" Dumbledore inquired firmly.

Tom leaned a bit forward in his chair, looked at the other beseechingly and breathed,

"I had nothing to do with this, sir. I swear."

Dumbledore took the half-moon spectacles from his nose and placed them on the desk in front of him. His blue eyes bored into Tom.

"Your act of the innocent victim won't convince me, you know that very well," Dumbledore finally stated, his voice icy cold. "Let's stop pretending, Tom, shall we?"

For a second Tom continued to look at Dumbledore pleadingly, innocently. Then, suddenly, the air of the wrongly accused easily slid from Tom's features. His gaze hardened and an unreadable mask obscured his every emotion. A vicious smirk started to tug at the corners of Tom's mouth. He lazily leaned back in his chair, never taking his frosty eyes from Dumbledore.

"I might not be a victim," Tom said smoothly, no signs of a tremble in his controlled voice anymore. "But I'm still innocent of the crimes you are accusing me of."

Dumbledore didn't react to Tom's abrupt change of demeanour at all. Not that Tom was surprised. They had both known it had been an act. Well, it was fun while it lasted, Tom thought maliciously.

"How did you do it?" Dumbledore asked, ignoring Tom's claim of innocence. "What curse did you use?"

The vile smirk on Tom's face became slightly more pronounced as he replied composedly,

"I told you, I did not attack Avery in any way."

"We both know it was you who cursed Mr Avery," Dumbledore insisted. "You are one of the very few people in this castle able to perform such Dark Magic."

"You overestimate me," Tom said chillily.

"And you humble yourself," Dumbledore shot back, equally cold.

"Why are you always singling me out?" Tom asked in exasperation. "I didn't do anything to deserve such treatment."

Dumbledore did not reply but continued to hit Tom with a hard stare. Tom sighed softly, as if annoyed by the whole meeting.

"Why would I harm Avery?" he asked dismissively. "He was my friend."

"Was he now?" Dumbledore inquired, doubt clear in his voice. "I was under the impression that he was more in the order of servant."

"Why would you assume something like that?" Tom said silkily. "By the way, as Avery was attacked I was far away from Hogwarts. Fighting one of your friends."

If Dumbledore was affected by the jibe, he hid it very well and stated calmly, "I think you had ample of time to attack Mr Avery before you followed Hermione."

Smugly, Tom scanned Dumbledore and suggested airily, "If you want to insist on accusing me of murder, you need to present evidence."

"There is none."

Dumbledore's gaze rested on Tom for a moment. Suspicion boiled up in Tom as he watched the hard glare leaving the professor's eyes. His features softening, Dumbledore asked, silly hope lacing his words,

"Don't you want to confess?"

Tom scowled at the other and did not want to deign it with a reply.

"Tom, I urge you to confess," Dumbledore beseeched, odd kindness in his voice. "It's not yet too late to turn back. Your life has only just started; do you really want to throw it away?"

"I am throwing nothing away," Tom bit out, his temper flaring dangerously.

"I know you think I want nothing more than to put you in Azkaban, Tom," Dumbledore said gingerly. "But that is not true. I want to help you."

This time, Tom couldn't help it. A sarcastic snort left him. It didn't stop Dumbledore from prodding,

"If you do not want to repent, if you continue with your life like this, you are going to lose everything."

"This is ridiculous," Tom snapped.

He got up from his seat and stalked over the office door. Dumbledore's voice held him back.

"What about Hermione?" the professor asked softly.

Tom's hand hovered over the door knop. He turned his head and glared at Dumbledore.

"What about her?"

A grave look was pasted on Dumbledore's face.

"You know Hermione has already suffered a lot in her life," the teacher told Tom, irritating sadness in his tone. "Do you really want to do this to her? Do you want to expose her to even more darkness? Your darkness?"

An angry snarl appeared on Tom's face and he hissed, "I would never hurt Hermione. Don't pull her into your false accusations."

A sad expression washed over Dumbledore's face. Tom ignored it, turned around, and stalked out of the transfiguration professor's office.

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Tom sat in his seat, feeling a bit out of place. His girlfriend was sitting right beside him, holding his hand so tightly it was cutting off the circulation. Tears were running down the girl's cheeks. She tried to stem the flow with a hanky. Tom glanced sidelong at her and studied her face. He saw each and every single tear forming in her eyes until it spilled over. Some of them she wiped away others managed to roll down her face until they dropped from her chin and landed on her black blouse, soaking it. Her normally so radiant hazel eyes were dull with grief and her breathing was laboured with the effort of suppressing sobs.

Tom unfixed his eyes from the crying witch and let his gaze wander over the large room. Many chairs had been set out in rows. People, clad in black, occupied them. Their faces were stony or tearful like Hermione's. The grief was almost palpable in the air. The rows of chairs were facing a small podium. A grey-haired wizard, clad in a black velvet robe, stood behind a lectern, giving a funeral oration in his solemn voice. Behind the grey-haired wizard stood a coffin. Curiously it was painted in a bright cheerful red colour.

Tom unfixed his eyes from the coffin, looked back at the grey-haired wizard and pretended to listen. Truth be told Tom didn't care for Marc Longbottom's death at all. It didn't touch him in the slightest. Then again, there was still Hermione's distraught magic he had to deal with. She was sad and grieved over her friend's death. Tom was hit by the urge to somehow comfort her. He didn't like it when Hermione suffered.

Tom glanced at Hermione's tearful face. Other people's emotions had always been quite alien to him. Back in his orphanage, years before he had known he was a wizard, Tom had taken to study the other children's emotions. Joy, anger, jealousy, mirth, fear. After some time Tom had been able to recognize those feelings, he had understood how they could be evoked and knew how to emulate them. Later in his years at Hogwarts, as he and the students around him had grown older, the emotions had got more and more complex. Tom's talent, though, had not deserted him. He was still able to read emotions quite easily. Like an outsider - a scientist observing a huge experiment - he had catalogued those emotions. He knew in which situation what emotion was appropriate and he could mimic them. It was so easy going even a step further. All the other people were trapped so deeply in their irrational feelings, it took no effort at all to manipulate them. Actually it was ridiculously easy to use them.

Pathetic…

His musings were cut short as Tom felt Hermione's hand around his tighten yet again. He glanced at her. The tears were still flowing from her eyes. She skidded nearer to him and nestled into his side. He freed his hand from hers and gently slid his arm around her so he could hold her more securely. For whatever reasons, Tom had to admit that he couldn't brush away Hermione's emotions. They were dangerous and not something he should play with mindlessly. Manipulating Hermione was like playing with fire. He had done it before, hadn't he? It had never worked out well. When it came to Hermione Tom's ability to read and use emotions failed quite spectacularly.

The witch in question was still tugged into his side, crying silently. Tom raised his hand and gingerly skimmed his fingers over her cheek. The contact made her shuffle even closer to him and another wave of her desolate magic washed over Tom. He ordered his own magic to cautiously wrap around Hermione, knowing that it would calm her. As he held Hermione securely, the confession he had given her just yesterday came back to him.

'I love you.'

A rather desperate act. Hermione had been angry with him because of the bond that linked her magic to Tom. Tom had simply panicked. So, he had blurted out those words. Tom knew how very important they were to Hermione.

In reality, though, the words were nothing but a hollow phrase.

Tom didn't know whether he loved Hermione or not. It wasn't something he spent any time thinking on. After all, it was completely irrelevant and inconsequential. Tom was a master at identifying and manipulating emotions. If that had taught him anything, then that emotions were fleeting and unreliable. They were worth nothing. Love was just another emotion. It didn't mean a thing.

What bound Tom to Hermione was certainly not something so weak. He was not going to wrap their relationship into empty words. Hermione meant so much more to him. Labelling their bond with one of those petty emotions, he had rehearsed all his life, would be an insult to her. Hermione was a part of Tom – an extension of himself. Before Tom had met Hermione, he had never thought about another's wellbeing as something important. He had put himself always first. Now, though, with everything Tom did he had to consider Hermione as well. She was a part of him, so she was equally important.

Tom's train of thought was cut short as he noticed the other people getting up from their seats. Obviously the funeral oration was over. Tom clasped Hermione's hand tightly, helped her up and again pulled her into his side.

_._._._._

Hermione was feeling miserable. She stood all by herself, surrounded by people clad in black. Turning her head, she scanned the room for Tom. He was no-where to be seen. Hermione bit her lower lip.

After the actual burial in the small cemetery of Godric's Hollow, the funeral party had walked over to the Longbottom house. Now Hermione was standing in the Longbottoms' living room. To be honest, she just wanted to be somewhere else. It had been horrible to see the coffin, to know that it was really over. Marc had died.

A watery smile appeared on Hermione's face as she remembered the bright red colour of the coffin. She was pretty sure Marc would have liked it. Quickly Hermione tried to blink away fresh tears. Her eyes were probably already puffy and red. Again she searched the room. Where was Tom?

"Hermione DeCerto, I presume?"

Hermione jumped a little before she whirled around to the voice. She gaped at the man she found standing behind her. Everything, from his messy black hair to the boyish smile, looked just like Harry. Hermione blinked a few times, making sure she wasn't dreaming. This man was the exact mirror image of Harry, aside from his eyes. They were not vibrant green, but brown. Hermione's stomach dropped. This was not Harry.

"Er… I'm…" she was unable to form a coherent sentence. "This…"

The grin on the Harry-image's face widened. Smartly he offered his hand to her.

"Hi," he said. Even his voice sounded like Harry's." I'm Charlus Potter. Nice to finally meet you again."

"C- Charlus?" she asked, uncertainly shaking his hand.

He inclined his head. Then he pointed over to Dumbledore who stood a little away, uncharacteristically clad in nothing but black, and talked with an elderly man.

"Dumbledore pointed me out to you," Charlus told Hermione.

She looked up at him questioningly which prompted him to send her a soft smile.

"After all, the last time we met, we didn't find the time to talk at all."

Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion. "The last time we…?"

"Well, I guess it is some time ago," Charlus said good-naturedly. "But one would think you remembered the guy you hurled a Stunner at unannounced."

Hermione's eyes widened as she remembered. It must be about two months ago that she had apparated to Godric's Hollow with the intend to steal the Invisibility Cloak. She had broken into the Potters' house and while she had been searching for the cloak, Charlus had found her. They had duelled, though in the end Hermione had managed to escape with the cloak. Hermione stared up at Charlus and blushed with embarrassment.

"Ah, I see. You do remember," Charlus said teasingly.

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione said breathlessly. "I am so sorry. I- I stole that cloak and then I even attacked you. I'm… You must be quite angry…"

Charlus ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up even further. There was a painful stab in Hermione's heart. He looked so much like Harry.

"Don't worry about it," Charlus said soothingly. "Dumbledore told me you stole the cloak because of Grindelwald. You thought it could help defeat him?"

"Erm…" Hermione blinked up at him. "Er.. yeah… that was the plan…"

"See?" Charlus said and laid a reassuring hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Of course, breaking into a house is never right but at least you had good intentions. The next time you are in a tight spot, though, just tell me. I'm sure we can work it out without trying to curse each other."

Hermione nodded at him timidly. Charlus was really nice and obviously had quite the forgiving nature. She bit her lip hard as she was again reminded of Harry. He had been just the same. Of course he had had a quick temper, but Harry had never been able to hold a grudge for long.

"I'm just glad it's over," Charlus' suddenly grave voice told her.

She looked up at him. The smile had left his face and there was sadness in his eyes. Once again, there were so many similarities to Harry.

"It's good Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald," Charlus continued. "I hear you were there when it happened?"

Hermione could only nod. Charlus sighed softly and said, gloom lacing his voice, "I'm sorry, it must have been horrible. You were a friend of Marc, weren't you?"

"Yes," Hermione replied in a watery voice.

Charlus' hand rubbed over her arm consolingly. "He was a good guy. He didn't deserve this." A soft smile ghosted around his features. "Marc was like a brother to me. An annoying, rule-breaking, little brother. But still, my brother."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said in a weak voice.

Charlus released a deep breath of air, before he said sadly, "Thank you. I miss him. A lot."

His brown eyes left Hermione and he looked at something behind her.

"I'm sorry," Charlus said. "But I should go back to my sister. Diana, you probably know her from Hogwarts. She's not taking this very well. She and Marc were very close."

"Of course." Before Charlus stepped away from her Hermione asked, "By the way, did you get the Invisibility Cloak back?"

"No, actually," Charlus said over his shoulder. "Dumbledore asked if he could borrow it for a while. My dad said it was okay. So I guess it's still at Hogwarts."

After Charlus had left her, Hermione stood a bit away from the other people. She felt uncomfortable. Now her mind was not only full of memories of Marc, but also of Harry. They spun around in her head and torturously always ended with the image of them lying dead before her.

Hermione felt sick. Her heart was hammering away and her chest felt constricted. She could barely breathe. She wondered what Harry would do if he could see her now. Would he be as forgiving as his grandfather? Or would he blame her? Blame her for risking the future so carelessly.

Blame me for being with Tom…

Hermione released a shuddered breath of air. She tried to stop her thoughts and let her gaze skim over the room. They stopped at Mr and Mrs Longbottom. Mr Longbottom held a baby in his arms. There was a happy expression on his face as he cooed the baby, but it was undeniable that there was also a terrible streak of sorrow in his blue eyes. Mrs Longbottom, standing beside her husband, seemed to radiate happiness whenever she glanced at her new-born son. Aside from those moments, though, the woman was obviously ridden by grief.

Hermione bit her lower lip hard as she stared at the couple. Guilt was mounting up in her. She knew that she hadn't actively helped to kill Marc but she had the sneaking suspicion that he might still be alive if it hadn't been for her. Time travel, Hermione thought bitterly, was one of the worst curses in existence.

She wondered if Marc would blame her for his death. Actually, now that she thought on it, she even wondered if Avery would blame her for his death. Hermione had her suspicions as to how he had died. As she had heard about Avery's death, her first reaction had been to hope that her boyfriend wasn't the one responsible. Hermione had never liked Avery, but she hadn't wanted him dead. What if it really had been Tom? She hadn't confronted him about it. She was too scared. If it really had been Tom, if he had really murdered again, Hermione didn't know what that would mean. To her… or to her plans of returning to the future.

Hermione gritted her teeth. So much was unclear, so much lay in despair. She felt overwhelmed. Helpless even. Right now, she just wanted to be alone. She needed to curl up somewhere and stop thinking.

Hermione's gaze slowly wandered over all the black-clad people and she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. She didn't belong here at all and felt like trespassing. She had no right to be here and disrupt those people's grief – especially as she might be the cause of all the grief.

Suddenly an arm was looped around her waist. Hermione's body stiffened and she turned her head. Tom was standing by her side and she relaxed instantly. Hermione shuffled a bit closer to him and leaned into him. Tom's body heat was slowly seeping over to her and with every breath she took she smelled his wonderful familiar scent. It felt so incredibly reassuring.

Tom bent down to her and whispered, "Do you want to leave?"

Hermione nodded at Tom gratefully. He took her hand and slowly led her to the door. Before Hermione stepped outside, she caught Lupin's eye. He stood with his family and Stella Lovegood who held his hand. As Lupin spotted Hermione, he smiled at her softly. Hermione sent him a small smile before she followed Tom out of the room.

Tom never let go of Hermione's hand as they left the Longbottom house. He grabbed her arm tightly and whispered in her ear teasingly,

"Hold on. This time, I'll get to drive."

With that Tom pulled her into the dark pressure of apparition. Seconds later, they reappeared, standing right outside the gates to Hogwarts' grounds. A small smile curved Hermione's lips as she saw the castle some distance away.

"I see someone passed the examination for their Apparation license," Hermione commented, grinning up at Tom.

He threw her a smug smile. Then Tom led her towards the castle. They walked in silence and Hermione enjoyed it. She didn't want to talk. Tom seemed to sense that and didn't press for conversation. He pulled her into Hogwarts, through the Entrance Hall and up the Moving Staircase. It wasn't long and they stood before a familiar patch of wall. Hermione furrowed her brow at Tom.

"What are we doing here?"

"We've been here before. Remember?" Tom informed her. "It's the Come-and-Go room."

Tom paced by the patch of wall three times. A huge wooden door appeared. He opened it and pulled Hermione in the room behind. The room looked nice and cosy with a couch and an armchair in one corner. To the left side stood a few shelves, filled with nothing but rows and rows of books. Hermione mustered the room, but didn't step further inside.

"Tom," she said tentatively. "I know you meant well. But I just want to be alone. It's… I need to… think."

"I don't want you to be alone," insisted Tom and grabbed her hand tighter.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his stubborn face and said shortly, "I'm not in the mood to talk right now."

"We don't need to talk. Look, here's a truckload of books. You just grab one, curl up on that sofa and read." Tom placed a kiss on her forehead. Then he added playfully, "And while you read your book, I'll just sit over there and observe you like a hawk. How does that sound?"

Involuntarily, a small smile curved Hermione's lips. She quickly got rid of it and looked into Tom's startlingly grey orbs. It was very unusual for his steely eyes to show anything else than cold indifference but right now they glimmered with concern. What was it with Tom being so gentle and caring one moment and a ruthless scary dark wizard the next? He was confusing.

"I rather want to go back to my dorm," Hermione stated curtly.

She turned away from him and wanted to walk over to the door. Tom stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," he told her firmly. "You'll just end up cloistering yourself away in that horribly red-coloured bedroom and worry – about everything. You need to relax a bit."

Hermione stared to the exit door. "I don't know…"

Tom quirked an eyebrow. Then he stepped over to one of the book shelves and exclaimed, fake-surprise in his voice,

"Look at that."

He reached for one of the books. Presenting it to Hermione, he baited her, "Hm, the first copy of Wafflings' Theorem on the Alignment of Magical Currents. Oh no, whoever is going to read it if you abandon it?"

Hermione frowned at his silly antics. Tom tilted his head and said, now serious, "Listen, Hermione, I know you are upset about Longbottom. And you are probably still angry with me because of that bond. But locking yourself away and over-analysing things won't help you solve them at all. Why don't you just take this day off?"

She pressed her mouth in a thin line. Over-analysing? As far as she was concerned such a thing was not possible. Though she had to admit that couch looked rather inviting at the moment. Tom might have sensed that she was about to falter because he pressed on,

"Come on. There's been a lot going on in the last few days with Grindelwald and all that. Tomorrow's the last school day before the summer break. Let's just laze around for a while."

Hermione pursed her lips in irritation as she looked back at Tom. Her eyes dropped to the old book he still held in his hand. It was tempting…

"Okay," she snapped, snatched the book from him and added grumpily, "You are stubborn. I'll give you that."

Tom smirked at her and mock-bowed. "Always at your service."

Hermione huffed at him and stalked over to the couch. She plopped down on it, leaning with her back against the couch's backrest while stretching her legs out. It indeed was rather comfortable. Still, Hermione sent Tom a dark look before she started to read. He was very good at ignoring her hostility and studied the books in the shelf. After a moment, he took one and sauntered over to Hermione's couch. She was already immersed in her book and only noticed Tom's presence as he lifted her legs, sat down on the couch and placed her feet in his lap. Hermione looked up from her book and frowned at him.

"Didn't you want to sit over there?" She gestured at the armchair.

"Changed my mind." A smirk played around his mouth as Tom added haughtily, "Now stop talking, I need to read this."

Hermione sniffed indignantly, her eyes sweeping over his book. It didn't have any title but it was bound in leather. A few suspicious blood-red stains marred the cover and a dark aura of magic hovered around the book.

"Of course you would need to read that."

Tom threw her an innocent and totally fake look. Hermione rolled her eyes at him. Then they dropped back to her own book. It didn't take long and she was captivated by the knowledge the book offered. Everything else dropped in the background and Hermione just enjoyed reading. It was a long time that she had been able to read just for the fun of it and not because she desperately needed to solve a problem. A small smile tugged at the corners of Hermione's mouth. Tom seemed to be trapped in his own book, never taking his eyes from the words. One of his hands had wandered to Hermione's foot in his lap, now and then stroking it gently. Hermione sighed contently, leaned comfortably back on the couch and continued reading.

They kept reading for what felt like hours. It probably really were hours, because Hermione had almost finished Wafflings' theorem as her eyes slowly drooped. She blinked a few times, trying to wake herself up. Another two paragraphs later and her eyelids again dropped. Hermione didn't even realize that the book slipped from her fingers. Only remotely she noticed that there was an arm around her waist and under her knees. Then she was lifted up. Sleepily Hermione raised her face and looked up at Tom through hooded eyes.

"Time to go to sleep," he whispered to her.

"Mm. I should go… to… dorm…" Hermione agreed, her voice slurred by sleep.

Despite her statement, she didn't try to get away from Tom but draped her arms around his neck and nestled against him. He chuckled in amusement.

"Well, I'm not going to carry you up all the way to Gryffindor tower," Tom told her haughtily. "Seems like you have to stay here."

"Hn," made Hermione, too tired for a real comeback.

"You are lucky you have such a considerate boyfriend," Tom informed her generously as he carried Hermione around a shelf of books.

Through half-closed eyes, Hermione spotted a king-sized bed standing right under a huge window. She hadn't noticed it before, obscured as it was by the book shelves. Tom gently put her down on the soft mattress. Then he pulled his wand and waved it over her. Instantly, Hermione's clothes morphed into a simple shirt. She sighed contently and rolled onto her side snuggling into the silky blanket. Her eyes had fallen shut again and she only remotely heard the rustling of fabric. Then the light was switched off and she felt a weight lying down beside her. Shortly later there were two strong arms around her and she was pulled against a chest.

"Good night," Tom whispered to her and placed a soft kiss on top of her head.

A small smile on her face, Hermione huddled up to Tom. She could feel his arms around her and felt quite safe in his embrace. Her head rested against his chest and she listened to the reassuring sound of his breathing. She would never admit it, but Hermione was glad Tom hadn't let her go back to her dorm. Being alone now… after the funeral… she didn't think she would have been able to stand it. The warmth of Tom's body next to hers was incredibly reassuring. She didn't have to wait long for sleep to claim her.

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

Hermione was waking up the next morning to grey eyes staring down at her. She blinked a few times and scanned her surroundings. It was quite unfamiliar. It took her a few seconds to remember that Tom had dragged her into the Room of Requirement the day before.

"Good morning," Tom said softly.

He was lying on his side, his head propped up by his hand, and looked down at Hermione.

"Morning," she said and stretched her arms.

Hermione felt surprisingly well-rested, considering that the day before hadn't been all that great. She looked back at Tom. He still lazily lounged on the bed beside her. She only now noticed that he was wearing nothing but his boxers. Hermione's eyes widened as she spotted the angry red cut that ran across Tom's chest. Concern bubbling up in her, Hermione leaned towards Tom and gingerly touched the healing skin.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked worriedly.

Tom chuckled softly and his grey eyes smiled down at her. "No. It's quite alright. Healed up perfectly."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. Tom was in a suspiciously good mood. Still smiling, he slid a bit closer to her on the bed. By now a rather predatory glint had appeared in his eyes.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?" Tom inquired, his index finger slowly trailing up her side.

Hermione suppressed a shiver as Tom touched her and replied, trying to sound unaffected, "Did I ever tell you that you are a liar?"

Slowly a vicious smirk curved Tom's lips and a dark shadow obscured his eyes.

"Yes, on several occasions," he purred at her rather seductively.

The smirk still adorned his features as he surveyed her through half-closed eyes. Lazily his hand skimmed over her until it came to rest lying on her stomach. Then Tom leaned down to her. Hermione was hit by a familiar tingling in her stomach as Tom pressed his lips over her own. He kissed her leisurely, nibbling at her lower lip. Hermione tentatively responded to him and moved her lips against his. As he felt her reacting to him the tip of Tom's tongue demandingly brushed along the seam of her mouth. Hermione was hit by a hot wave of desire as she felt Tom's mouth nibbling at her and his hands rubbing over her.

Still, her mind was swirling with worries and unsolved problems. Hermione just couldn't relax. The Hallows, the bond with Tom, the time line, Avery – she desperately had to think everything through. It already buzzed through her thoughts anyway. While Hermione enjoyed Tom's kisses and his nearness, her mind was too preoccupied. This wasn't the time to snog. She had some serious decisions to make, Hermione's know-it-all side lectured her. She agreed with the inner voice and pushed Tom away. He looked at her with one eyebrow arched delicately. Hermione shuddered as she saw the dark desire burning in his grey eyes.

"W- we have class," she mumbled an excuse, well aware how breathless her voice sounded.

She averted her eyes from Tom's smouldering ones and made to get up from the bed. A firm hand around her wrist stopped her. Hermione squealed as she was pulled down. A weight pushed her hard into the mattress and Hermione blinked up at Tom, startled by his actions. He was looming over her, imprisoning her waist between his legs. Hermione furrowed her brow at him before she again tried to push him away. This time with both her hands on his chest. Tom grabbed her wrists and pinned them down above her head. Hermione was taken aback by Tom's forcefulness. She tried to wriggle away from him.

"T- Tom?" whispered Hermione shakily.

A smirk twisted up his lips as he heard the quiver in her voice. Tom bent down to her and captured her mouth with his lips. The kiss was fierce, bordering on bruising, and Hermione's head swirled from it. Tom licked over the seam of her mouth, hungrily demanding entry. She was so dazed by his rough actions, that she didn't hesitate to obey and parted her lips for him. Instantly Tom deepened their kiss. His tongue explored her mouth rather aggressively.

Under Tom's heated actions Hermione's troubled thoughts came to an abrupt standstill. All of the problems dropped into the background and she just gave in to Tom's invasion. A burning need boiled up in her as his tongue continued to ravish her mouth. A soft moan escaped her and she relaxed into the tight hold he still had on her. It was then that Tom broke the kiss and bent up. Still pinning her into the mattress, he smugly grinned down at her, clearly enjoying the sight of her now red and swollen lips.

"You are not running away from me," Tom told her, finality in his tone.

Hermione's heart was racing away in a mixture of surprise, trepidation and, strangely enough, desire as she stared at the evil glint in Tom's eyes. Involuntarily her gaze dropped from his eyes down to his lips. A wave of heat hit her face hard as she realized she wanted him to kiss her again. She blinked up at him with huge confused eyes. Tom still smirked viciously at her and she was feeling very much exposed under his smouldering stare. His eyes slowly wandered over her, taking in every curve of her body, ever shudder that ran through her. Tom took his sweet time drinking in her flustered state. All the while he was easily restricting her movements. Finally his steely grey eyes locked with Hermione's.

The dark smirk curled up his mouth further as he took in the shock his gruff actions had evoked. He chuckled and bent down to her. Hermione's stomach jumped as she felt him again so close. A soft whimper of anticipation left her and Tom snickered. She could feel his lips against her ear as he whispered, light tease in his voice,

"You are such an innocent Gryffindor."

Then he released her wrists. Still chuckling softly, Tom traced kisses from her ear down her neck. His hands skimmed down her arms and her sides until they found the hem of her shirt.

"I'm not innocent," Hermione's feeble protest left her before Tom sealed her lips with a kiss.

"Sure you are not," he whispered wryly between kisses.

Hermione wanted to reply something to his smug statement but she couldn't. She was pulled down into a torrent of desire as Tom peeled the shirt from her body. Hermione felt the air hitting her exposed body, but she wasn't feeling cold at all. Not with Tom still looming over her. His gaze was burning like fire on her skin as it wandered from her face to her bare chest and shamelessly raked over her breasts. His grey eyes flashed to hers and he said, amused,

"I might be a liar, but you really are beautiful."

A small hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as Hermione heard it. She raised a hand and ran her fingers through Tom's silky black hair.

"Okay, okay," she breathed hoarsely. "You win, Riddle. I'll stay. Now, come here."

With that she tugged at him, her hand resting at the back of his head. A triumphant smirk washed over Tom's face. Hermione ignored the smugness dripping from him and hastily pulled Tom into another heated kiss. She moaned softly as his mouth left her lips. Tom traced kisses over her neck. Now and then teeth were nipping teasingly at her soft skin. Shudders ran through Hermione's whole body. Quickly Tom's hot lips reached her breasts. Hermione squirmed under him as he started to nuzzle her flesh, his tongue licking over her.

Tom's hands sneakily traced down the curve of her waist until they found the seam of her knickers. Then he slipped the last piece of clothing easily from her body. By now Hermione was panting and her trembling fingers wandered down Tom's broad chest until they greedily tugged at his boxers. Seeing the lust in Hermione's eyes, Tom quickly complied and shed the boxers before he leaned over her again. His fingers glided over her body, rubbing and pinching at places, and soft moans left Hermione's lips. She raised her hands and clutched Tom's well-toned upper arms, pulling him closer.

Her demand was clear and Tom didn't need to be told twice. Gently he nudged her legs apart and insinuated himself between her thighs. Hermione moaned softly as she felt him against her, desire running through her so demandingly it made her dizzy. Her magic bristled around her, mingled with Tom's and pulled at him demandingly. Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Lust ripping at her unbearably, she looked up at him. Her magic rushed around them both fervently and Hermione whimpered,

"Tom…"

A devilish smirk slid on his face as he heard the desperate need which laced her throaty voice. Tom's hands moved down her body until he grabbed her tights, fingers biting into her soft skin, and spread her legs further. Then he moved and entered her in one confident stroke. A groan left Hermione's lips. Tom bent down to her and placed a greedy kiss on her quivering lips. He ended the kiss and his steely grey eyes bored into her hazel one, his face only inches from her own. Hermione's breathing was laboured as she stared back at him, mesmerized. It was then that Tom started to move. He pulled out of her before he, almost forcefully, thrust in. Hermione groaned again, biting her lower lip in her lust. Tom propped his weight up on his elbows on either side of her head while he remained a steady rhythm of moving in and out of her. Hermione raised her legs and hooked her feet around his back. Her fingernails scratched demandingly over Tom as she pulled him even closer to her.

By now Hermione had lost control over her passionate magic. It hotly sizzled in the air, strands of it wrapping possessively around Tom, urging him on. Her excited magic threw Hermione into an overdrive of sensations. It was intoxicating. She felt her magic greedily snaking over Tom's body and there was a feverish burn where it clashed with his magic. Through their interlocked magic, she felt his lust as if it were her own.

Hermione's desire spiralled up even further. Soon, she couldn't take it anymore. The lust rushed through her, almost painfully demanding release. She was so close now. Each time Tom entered her, his name fell from her lips pleadingly. She urgently wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder. Her excited magic told her that Tom was very close, too.

The next time he entered her, Hermione cried out loudly as her lust burst. It exploded and her whole body shook as it was flooded by the ecstasy of her release. Hermione trembled and breathlessly clutched Tom. Through her magic she felt that the same satisfaction ran through him.

Tom sighed softly and his body sagged down on her. His head rested against the joint where her shoulder met her neck and Hermione felt his hot breath against her skin. She let her own ragged breathing calm while she still held to Tom tightly. After a while, he cautiously rolled from her and lay on the bed. Quickly, Hermione huddled against his side and Tom wrapped an arm around her. She thoroughly enjoyed the nearness of his warm body and lazily closed her eyes.

"You are bad company, Tom. Yet again, you made me miss a class," Hermione teased.

Tom snickered softly and pulled her closer to him. His grey eyes smiled down at her as he replied, "Actually before you arrived here I have never missed a single class. So, if somebody is bad company, it's you."

_._._._._

It was a good while later that Hermione hurried down the corridor towards the Transfiguration classroom. She nervously checked her watch and groaned. Then she angrily hit Tom's arm and nagged,

"Look what you've done. We're late for Transfiguration and I missed Household. Legifer'll have my head."

Tom rubbed his arm while replying condescendingly, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you seemed to enjoy yourself very much during our free time."

That said, Tom presented her with a rather sleazy smirk. Eyes narrowed in ire, Hermione swiped at him again. He easily caught her hand and pulled at her unexpectedly so that Hermione stumbled against him. Tom's snicker was washing over her as he snaked an arm around her waist.

"Hm, you are rather affectionate today," he purred at her teasingly.

Hermione harrumphed and pushed Tom away from her. She glared at him in suspicion. Tom wasn't impressed but smiled at her dazzlingly. Hermione rolled her eyes. Then she grabbed his hand and started to pull him after her.

"Stop being silly," she ordered. "And hurry up. We have Transfiguration."

"And I surely don't want to ever miss that class," Tom muttered darkly.

Hermione was not in the mood to deal with a grumpy Tom. It was bad enough that they were already ten minutes late for Dumbledore's class. She turned the next corner, still dragging Tom with her, as they ran into the last person Hermione wanted to meet right now.

"Ms DeCerto."

Legifer stood there, in all her glory, her sharp eyes wandering over Hermione in distaste. The professor's gaze softened considerably as she spotted Tom.

"Mr Riddle," she greeted, disturbingly nice.

Tom nodded at the professor in greeting. Hermione felt a tinge of anger bubbling up in her as she saw the look of innocent zeal on Tom's face which he always used to lull the teachers. What a swot …and so transparent, too. Hermione almost shook her head at him. Legifer on the other hand seemed to be impressed by Tom's display of the perfect student. Unfortunately the softness immediately left her eyes as they dropped back to Hermione. A foreboding tinge of asperity already oozed from Legifer's words as she snapped,

"How curious to see you walking around – quite healthy I might add – after you missed two hours of my class."

"Er… yeah… about that…" mumbled Hermione, her voice dying away under Legifer's menacing stare.

"I think we had more than enough conversations about how you, more than anybody else, need my help." Legifer's dark eyes wandered disapprovingly over Hermione's form. "As it is now, I am thinking about giving you remedial classes next year."

Hermione stared at the woman, horror-struck. It took her a few seconds to find her voice back, during which the malicious smile on Tom's face didn't escape her notice. Hermione tried to suppress the urge to hit Tom and cleared her throat.

"That really is not necessary, professor."

"I beg to differ," Legifer promptly replied.

Legifer threw Tom a short glance before she lectured Hermione scathingly, "Just because you've made a good catch, doesn't mean you can sit back and slack off."

As if Legifer's insanity wasn't enough, Hermione heard Tom snicker evilly. Gritting her teeth in anger she glared at him. Tom's features were arranged into a politely interested expression, but Hermione could see amusement darkly flickering in his grey eyes. She decided against strangling him and changed her tactic. Turning back to Legifer, Hermione said eagerly,

"You are perfectly right, professor."

Surprise temporarily drove away the sharp frown on Legifer's brow. She blinked at Hermione, obviously not having expected agreement. Hermione fluttered her eyelashes at Tom. He took a tiny step away from her as he saw the sickeningly love-struck expression on her face. Suppressing the need to cackle evilly, Hermione told Legifer in a naïve voice,

"I honestly wanted to go to your class. But then Tom told me to pack his things for the summer break. So I – being a dutiful girlfriend – had no other choice but to comply with his wishes."

Through the corner of her eyes, Hermione gleefully watched Tom's face getting rather stony. Legifer, on the other hand, mustered Hermione pensively, if not a little proudly. Then the professor's sharp gaze switched to Tom and she reprimanded,

"Mr Riddle, when the two of you are married, it is of course your decision whether you allow Ms DeCerto to get any further education. As of now, I advise you not to delay her studies. Believe me, in the end it will benefit the both of you."

Tom's eyes shortly darted to Hermione. She was pretty sure he could see the evil mirth hidden behind the obedient smile she sent him. Tom looked back at Legifer and said apologetically,

"Of course you are right, professor. I assure you it won't happen again."

Legifer nodded at him shortly. Hermione couldn't believe it as the professor didn't throw her into detention. Instead Legifer just wished them a 'Good day', before she proceeded down the corridor, her squeaky-clean black robe billowing behind her dramatically. As Legifer was out of earshot, Hermione couldn't hold back anymore. She giggled inanely and had to hold on to Tom's arm. He gruffly clutched her and started to pull her away.

"I thought you didn't want to be late for class," Tom hissed at her. "Hurry up."

Hermione still had to fight against her giggles as she said breathlessly, "Of course, if my dear boyfriend says so, I have no other choice but to obey."

Tom scowled and informed her indignantly, "Forget what I said about you being an innocent Gryffindor. Clearly you belong in Slytherin."

Hermione waved that comment away with a gesture of her hand and said airily, "I'm learning from the best."

_._._._._

Sadly enough, Hermione's good mood evaporated into nothingness as they finally reached the classroom. As expected Dumbledore had already started his lecture. Hermione apologized profusely for their tardiness. All the while Tom stood behind her with a cold front expertly covering all his emotions. Hermione shuddered as she could feel hints of his dark magic angrily brushing against her.

"Please, take a seat," Dumbledore said kindly.

"Thank you, sir," Hermione replied sheepishly. "And we're really sorry."

The professor smiled at her warmly. Though as his gaze wandered to Tom, the merry twinkle in his eyes died away and they grew hard. Hermione swallowed nervously and took a step towards her seat. She noticed that Tom wasn't following. Glancing at him, she spotted a dangerous red glint flaring up in his grey eyes as he scanned Dumbledore. Quickly Hermione reached for his hand and decidedly pulled Tom away from the professor.

What was that? Hermione wondered, disturbed, as she slowly sat down beside Lupin. Slightly turning her head, she made sure that Tom sat down on his place as well. The murderous fire still raged in his eyes. Hermione gulped and averted her eyes from him. She could still feel Tom's angry magic licking over her. Hopefully it was the bond that enabled her to feel it and Tom wasn't really emitting such dark magic in a classroom.

"You alright?" a voice whispered to her.

Hermione turned her head and found Lupin scanning her concerned. She hadn't seen him since yesterday during the funeral. Hermione threw him a reassuring smile and nodded. Lupin took her hand in his and pressed it gently. Returning the gesture, Hermione whispered a soft,

"Thanks."

Then she reached for her parchment and quill. As usual Dumbledore's class was quite interesting. Still, Hermione couldn't concentrate at all. Tom's behaviour troubled her and the aggressive dark magic swirling in the air made her feel like suffocating. Suddenly all her problems came crashing down on her. Tom had managed to distract Hermione for some time, but now it all came back.

She needed to get the Hallows and go back to her time period. Or should she just stay here? Between that question spinning around her head, Avery squeezed himself into Hermione's thoughts as well. He was dead, attacked by a Dementor. Hermione wanted to believe that story, but doubt was poisoning her mind. Did Tom do it? Hermione didn't want to believe it. He wasn't that monster from her nightmares anymore, was he?

Hermione shook her head, trying to stop that train of thought, but her brain did not let itself getting deluded. Why should Tom have changed? Hermione had never asked him to change and she had never expected it.

Is he still Lord Voldemort?

Her hand holding the quill trembled. Before Hermione could think on it any further, Dumbledore concluded the class. He hadn't even asked for the essay they had had to write. The other students broke out in merry chatter. Of course they would. After all, the school year was over and tomorrow they would ride the Hogwarts' Express back to London.

At the moment, Hermione couldn't share their enthusiasm. Mechanically, she stuffed her quill, textbook and parchment into her bag. Someone walked by her table. Hermione raised her eyes and watched Tom storming from the classroom. Once again she wondered if something had happened between him and Dumbledore. It wasn't long and the other students had followed Tom's example. Hermione sat in the empty classroom, feeling strangely exhausted.

The room wasn't so empty after all, because an amused voice said, "Ms DeCerto, as much as I like your studious nature, you should know that the school year is officially over now."

A smile drifted over Hermione's face. Then she looked up at Dumbledore. He stood by his desk and mustered her kindly.

"You are right."

She stood up, shouldered her bag and walked towards the exit. Before she could leave, Dumbledore's voice held her back,

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned to him and raised her eyebrows. The professor's clear blue eyes scanned her for a moment.

"Is there anything troubling you?"

Hermione couldn't stop that sarcastic smirk. "The question should be: Is there anything that's not troubling me."

Dumbledore sighed softly as he heard it and scanned her in concern.

"I know life has not been easy on you lately," he said gently. "You had to go through a lot. I wish I would have been able to spare you the grief."

"It's fine, professor," Hermione said in a small voice. "You already did enough. After all, you saved my life. Thank you."

"Oh no, Hermione. No, no," Dumbledore said, smiling at her kindly. "I have to thank you. Without you, I would have never found the courage to face Gellert and the truth."

Hermione smiled at him. Fiddling with a strand of her curly hair, she asked hesitantly, "Do you… do you regret finding out the truth?"

Dumbledore looked at her, lost deep in thought. After a moment of silence he said, "I don't like the truth Gellert has confided in me. Still, I am glad that it is out in the open. Not knowing the truth and being afraid of it is a lot worse."

Hermione nodded pensively. Her thoughts swirled around Tom and Avery as Dumbledore interrupted her.

"If there is something troubling you, I gladly offer you my help."

"Thanks, professor. I appreciate it," Hermione softly replied. "Unfortunately, I'm not faced with a scientific problem but more with a personal decision I have to make."

"Ah," made Dumbledore thoughtfully. "That is in most cases even more difficult."

Hermione peered at him and supplied, "Yes. It's very complicated. The end of it is that I'm stuck. I know what I have to do. But it just feels wrong." A harsh laugh left her. "That even sounds stupid."

"Not at all," Dumbledore said kindly. "I assume Tom plays a part in that decision you are facing?"

"Yes," Hermione admitted tiredly. "A huge part, actually."

"So, does that mean the issue of trust between you two is resolved?"

Hermione glanced at the professor and sighed, "Not really. It might have got even worse."

"Hm… You know what always helps when there's a difficult decision lying ahead?" Dumbledore threw her a crooked smile and unclosed, "Time. In most cases the solution will present itself in due time.

"I'm not sure I have an ample amount of time at my disposal." Hermione chuckled before she added wryly, "Or maybe too much."

Dumbledore just raised his eyebrows at her cryptic answer. "Maybe the summer break is exactly the thing you need. Do you have any plans?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "To be honest, I haven't been thinking about it."

She looked at Dumbledore suspiciously and added firmly, "But Tom will stay with me. He's not going to go back to the orphanage."

Clear blue eyes regarded her for a moment before Dumbledore replied, "I thought you would say that. Regardless, I still have to take Tom's wand away for the break. Can I count on you to have an eye on him? I have an inkling that Tom would need it."

"Yes," Hermione said cautiously.

Guilt was mercilessly sneaking up on her. She couldn't really guarantee that she would still be here for the summer break. In any case, she didn't want Tom to return to his orphanage. A prolonged silence fell over the two. After some time Hermione said softly,

"Professor?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Do you think people can change?"

Dumbledore didn't seem to be surprised by her strange question.

"A very difficult question," he mused. "Do you think that you ever changed?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. Had she changed? Her thoughts danced around all the events during the war. All the things she had done. They had somehow changed her. Had made her colder. She certainly didn't trust people so easily anymore.

"Probably," Hermione said hesitantly. "But I'm not sure it's a good thing."

Dumbledore glanced at her as he remarked, "You know, many voices demanded for Gellert to be executed. They wanted retribution for the atrocities he committed. I am very glad, that in the end they decide against killing him. Now he still has the chance to understand what he has done wrong. He has the chance to feel remorse… to change."

Hermione stared at him and asked cautiously, "So you think it is possible to change someone?"

Dumbledore smiled at her kindly. "Are you, by any chance, talking about Tom?"

"Maybe."

Dumbledore put a warm hand on Hermione's shoulder and told her, "You can't change someone. They have to do that themselves."

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

It was a little while later that Hermione stepped out of Hogwarts' castle. A shudder ran through her body even though the sun shone warmly down on her. Ignoring those unpleasant chills, she slowly walked over to the Great Lake. Dumbledore's words spun around her head. Hermione sighed softly and ran a hand distractedly through her curly hair. Tom. He always proved to be the source of all her problems, didn't he? His latest actions had shaken her up quite a bit. Too much of Lord Voldemort had shone through Tom's acts lately. He had lied to her and bound her magic to him. A flush of anger hit Hermione. Indeed a clever move, worthy of Lord Voldemort, wasn't it?

Hermione's gaze flicked over the students sitting here and there in the soft grass, chatting with their friends. Hermione needed to talk with someone very urgently. Someone who had behaved quite strangely the last few days. Especially around Tom.

It was a few minutes later that Hermione finally spotted Melanie Nicolls. She sat with a group of her Slytherin friends on the soft grass not far from the Great Lake. Nicolls' dark-brown hair shone glossily in the sun. She was wearing her uniform and Hermione had to grudgingly admit that the clothes hugged Nicolls' delicate frame attractively. The Slytherin girl had this effortless beauty hovering around her person. Just like Tom. He looked even nice right after waking up in the morning. Maybe his hair would be mussed up but that only added to his handsome appearance. Hermione knew that by no means did she look like a troll but she certainly wasn't exceptionally beautiful either. If she wanted to look pretty, she had to put some effort into it.

Hermione sighed softly as she looked at the group of Slytherin girls. This was neither here nor there. Breathing in deeply and straightening her shoulders, Hermione walked over to the Slytherins. She was still some metres away from them as the girls noticed her and started to glare. Nicolls stared determinedly in another direction. Yaxley, though, made up for the other girl's abstinence and drowned Hermione in death glares.

"Do you have a minute?" Hermione asked Nicolls neutrally.

Reluctantly Nicolls looked up at her. Once again the customary disgust was missing on her pretty face. Instead anxiety shone in her pretty doe-eyes. What had changed Nicolls' behaviour so drastically? What had Tom done?

As Nicolls didn't immediately answer, Yaxley hissed aggressively, "No, she doesn't have time for the likes of you!"

Hermione ignored it but concentrated on Nicolls.

"Just a few words?" she asked cautiously. "It won't take long."

The other girl obviously didn't want to be alone with Hermione but replied, clearly not happy with the decision,

"Fine."

"Why?" Yaxley protested immediately. "You don't have to talk to the Mudblood."

Hermione coldly ignored the insult but Nicolls winced as she heard it. It indeed was strange.

"No, Susan," Nicolls said softly. "I'll talk with her."

She got up from the grass and stepped towards Hermione. Together they slowly walked along the shore of the lake and Hermione wondered how to broach the topic. Reluctance was still clear on Nicolls face. Hermione cleared her throat before she asked awkwardly,

"Er… so… What are you planning to do in the holidays?"

Nicolls frowned at her, a sharp wrinkle between her eyebrows. Hermione sighed. She knew well enough her attempt at small-talk was pathetic. Nicolls cleared her throat before she said stiffly,

"I'll go back to my father, to the family manor down in Wales."

"That sounds nice," said Hermione clumsily.

Nicolls nodded. Probably just to keep the semblance of politeness, the Slytherin girl asked,

"What about you?"

"Oh," made Hermione. "I guess… Well, I'm not sure yet. I'll spend the break with Tom though. We'll probably stay at a hotel."

Upon hearing Tom's name, Nicolls clamed up completely. Determinedly she avoided Hermione's eyes. Again, quite out of character. There was no breakdown from the girl after hearing Hermione would spend the whole summer break with Tom.

"Er.. the reason I wanted to speak with you," Hermione said tensely. "I know it sounds strange but… Do you have any idea what happened to Avery?"

Nicolls' eyes flashed at her. She narrowed them at Hermione before she asked sharply,
"Why should I know?"

"Well, he seemed to be a friend of yours," said Hermione lightly. "Maybe you heard something."

Nicolls' gaze hardened and she clarified curtly, "We weren't friends. He was merely an acquaintance. I certainly don't know any more than you do."

The lie left Melanie's mouth not with the usual ease. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears and just wanted to run away from DeCerto. The other girl scanned her with that penetrating gaze. She suspected something, didn't she? Melanie resisted the urge to nervously wring her hands.

"If that was all," Melanie said, forcing her voice to sound condescending. "I'll go back to my friends."

She turned away from DeCerto but the other girl stopped her.

"You know," DeCerto said lightly. "Maybe I should ask Tom about it."

Melanie couldn't help but flinch at the mention of his name. Images were burning up in her and Melanie felt slightly sick. She didn't want to imagine what Riddle might do to her if she told DeCerto the truth. Last year, Melanie had been the girlfriend of that… that monster.

"Why would you ask him?" Melanie asked faintly.

DeCerto shrugged and said easily, "Well, he and Avery were friends."

It was so grotesque, Melanie couldn't help but snort wryly.

"I don't think Riddle has any friends," she whispered coldly. "Maybe you should really ask him."

Not saying anymore, Melanie fled DeCerto. Since that girl had arrived at Hogwarts, almost a year ago, Melanie had been jealous of her, because of her good grades, because of her obvious talent with magic and, above all, because she was Riddle's girlfriend.

Now though, Melanie could feel nothing but pity for the poor girl. To be stuck with someone like Riddle must be horrible. She wondered if DeCerto knew how Riddle really was. Melanie shuddered as she remembered those evil red eyes. For DeCerto's sake she hoped that he wasn't going to hurt her too badly.

Either way, Melanie was very glad that she didn't have to deal with the Dark Wizard. Abraxas had told her to just stay away from Riddle. That way he would forget about her. Melanie was very grateful that Abraxas had helped her out of it.

_._._._._

Hermione's eyes wandered over the Scottish landscape. It was such a bright beautiful day. She breathed in the warm air. Nicolls had not been very helpful. Fortunately Hermione had a contingency plan.

Irritated, she wiped a strand of her curly hair out of her face. While she waited, Hermione wondered what it would mean to her if Tom had murdered Avery. Was it even important? Hermione knew that sooner or later he would start to hurt other people. She knew how Lord Voldemort had been. That man was still Tom's future, wasn't he? Between now and fifty years in the future, Tom would turn into that grotesque snake man.

Hermione shook her head. Maybe… maybe Tom had changed. Maybe he didn't want to become Voldemort anymore. He had seen Voldemort in Hermione's memories, and Tom had seemed to be rather appalled by the dark wizard. But if that was true, and Tom didn't want to become Voldemort anymore, that would mean Hermione's presence in the past had changed the timeline. That was something she just couldn't do.

Frustrated, Hermione let her gaze wander over the wide Scottish landscape. She heard the door leading to the platform being opened. Someone was walking towards her but Hermione didn't turn around. She already knew who had entered the platform. Hermione's eyes were fixed on the rough landscape of Scotland as she said,

"Thanks for coming."

Through the corner of her eyes, she spotted platinum blond hair as someone leaned against the balustrade beside her.

"It is not a problem," Abraxas Malfoy answered politely. Then he inquired, "Why did you need to see me, Ms DeCerto?"

It still unnerved Hermione how courteously Abraxas Malfoy treated her. She wasn't used to civil behaviour coming from a Malfoy at all.

"There's something I have to ask you."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"

"About Avery."

The bland expression was still on his face, but undoubtedly suspicion grew in Malfoy's eyes. Before he could come up with an excuse to leave, Hermione pressed on,

"You were a friend of his. Do you have any idea what happened to him?"

"As far as I know, it was a Dementor attack," Malfoy replied smoothly.

Pushing herself away from the balustrade, Hermione turned and fully faced Malfoy. Not even under her scrutinizing gaze did his polite mask waver. Hermione decided to drop the act. She opened her mouth and said, a steely edge in her voice,

"Look, I already know Tom had something to do with it. Just tell me what happened between him and Avery."

Malfoy hesitated for a second. Then he proposed delicately, "If you are convinced that Riddle had something to do with it, maybe you should ask him."

Hermione groaned softly. Nicolls and him had a lot in common. She knew very well that they were right. She should just go and ask Tom instead of confronting his lackeys. Hermione glanced at Malfoy. Clearly he knew something. Just like Nicolls had known the truth.

As cowardly as it was, Hermione decided on another approach. She felt dirty as she stared into Malfoy's eyes and flicked her fingers.

Legilimens.

With that she forced her mind into Malfoy's. If he was unwilling to tell her the truth, she was going to find it by force. Hermione quickly searched though his memories until she found something that made her blood freeze over.

Malfoy was standing in a small chamber, holding a trembling girl. 'Nicolls,' Hermione noticed as she saw the girl's tear-stained face. She couldn't concentrate on Nicolls any longer, as Malfoy turned away from her and scanned the room. Hermione saw some figures kneeling on the floor. She could identify the closest ones as Lestrange and Black. They trembled all over and had similar looks of horror and fear on their faces. Malfoy's gaze then stopped at another kneeling form. It was Avery.

A look of absolute terror twisted his face as he fearfully stared up at another figure, looming threateningly over him. Hermione's heart accelerated as she recognized that standing figure. Tom. A sadistic smile danced around his mouth as his gaze wandered over Avery's trembling form. The air in the room was thick with fear and Tom seemed to enjoy it very much.

Hermione stared with wide eyes as the scene unfolded in front of her. It was as if she had fallen into a trance. She couldn't take her eyes of Tom. His skin shone eerily pale in the dimly lit room. Only a sick smirk disturbed the completely emotionless look on his face. His eyes glowed like embers in the dark. Hermione could see nothing in them. They were empty.

Tom was talking but she couldn't hear him. She couldn't concentrate on anything else but those cruel red eyes. Avery sobbed, pure terror on his face. With fear paralyzing her body, Hermione watched as Tom raised his wand.

"Osculum mortis," he said, his cruel voice icy cold.

Hermione felt like the world had stopped spinning. Her thoughts were strangely muted as she stared at Avery. She knew the magic, disgusting as it was. Kiss of Death. Hermione trembled all over, feeling horribly nauseated. Tom's wand was mercilessly pointed at Avery. A golden substance slowly flowed from Avery. Fickle as smoke, it floated through the air until it disappeared into the tip of Tom's wand. How would one call that substance? Hermione wondered numbly. The soul? The mind? She didn't know.

Hermione could see the life bleeding out of Avery. He kneeled there on the stone floor and it was obvious that he was dying. It was plainly visible on his face, contorted into a mask of pain. There was nothing but fear in his eyes while his body was hunched over feebly, already accepting its fate. Hermione's breath came in short gasps as she watched the boy's last seconds of being alive. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut. Trapped in Malfoy's memory, though, Hermione was forced to see what he had seen. Avery screamed and screamed. Hermione gritted her teeth.

Tom was merciless. He did not stop. Never. There was an insane smile on his face as he watched Avery's agony. The twisted amusement on Tom's face was probably the last thing Avery saw before he died.

Hermione felt like throwing up. A last time her gaze went to Tom. He stood over Avery's limb body. His eyes were crimson red and shone ghastly with satisfaction. However hard Hermione whished for it to be differently, she could not see Tom there. Just a horrific nightmare.

A monster.

Overwhelmed with disgust, Hermione pulled herself out of Malfoy's memory. She found herself standing on the platform of the Astronomy tower. The mild summer sun and the bright blue sky seemed to mock Hermione.

"What was that?" Malfoy's startled voice demanded to know.

Hermione leaned against the balustrade and with empty eyes stared up at the azure sky.

"Legilimency," she replied numbly. She glanced at Malfoy's shocked face and advised, "You should look it up. Especially if you plan to be around Tom in the future."

Malfoy seemed to be too upset to say anything. Hermione inhaled deeply. Blood red eyes ghosted through her mind. Eyes of a demon.

"So, it was Tom," she stated colourlessly.

Malfoy still remained to be mute. He looked ruffled if not a little scared. His smooth mask unmistakably showed cracks. Hermione asked, her voice alarmingly empty,

"How did Avery end up in the Forbidden Forest after… after Tom did that?"

Malfoy looked at her warily, fear glinting in his eyes.

"I- I brought him there," he confessed. "It was the only way to cover everything up."

Hermione nodded. "Why did Tom do it?"

Malfoy shifted under her gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. His eyes even darted shortly to the door. In the end, though, he stayed and explained tentatively,

"The others were conspiring against Riddle, planning to overthrow him. Avery wanted to become the leader of our… group. Melanie… well, she helped him along the way."

Hermione's hands around the balustrade tightened, her knuckles turning white. Then she said, her voice eerily soft,

"So, Avery challenged Tom for the leader position? And as a reaction Tom… What? Killed Avery?"

Malfoy stepped a bit closer to Hermione. He leaned with his back against the stone balustrade.

"You are Riddle's girlfriend, Ms DeCerto," he said seriously. "I'm sure you know how he is. There was no way he would take that attempt to usurp lightly. Avery knew the risks and he still attacked Riddle."

Hermione was hit by a flash of anger. Her sharp eyes fixed on Malfoy, she growled,

"Of course, Tom was the victim here. He didn't have any other option to deal with Avery. Surely killing him was the best way."

The Slytherin raised his eyebrows as he was hit by Hermione's harsh sarcasm. Still, his voice was soft, even gentle, as he said,

"You were a part of the reason Riddle punished Avery so ruthlessly."

Hermione's upcoming fury was cut short by confusion and she furrowed her brow.

"How so?"

"You know that Avery has been stalking you for quite some time," Malfoy told her calmly. "As he attacked Riddle, Avery point-blank told him he would force you to… er… be his lady friend after he had taken over the Knights."

Hermione arched her eyebrows in disgust. "Tom knows that Avery could have never defeated me."

"Avery attacked Riddle and he threatened to attack you as well," Malfoy reasoned with her. "Everyone who knows Riddle, knows that he would not react very kindly to such threats. Avery miscalculated; he risked too much."

Hermione clenched her teeth and snapped at Malfoy, "So, you think it was reasonable of Tom to kill Avery?"

"I'm not saying that," Malfoy replied defensively. "But Avery was not completely innocent in this development. If he hadn't acted up, Riddle would have never cursed him. I can tell you, if Avery had been successful – and for a short moment it looked like he would be – then he wouldn't have hesitated to seriously injure Riddle."

Hermione stared at Malfoy. Suddenly she wasn't able to muster any anger anymore. She just felt tired and somehow empty. Maybe she should have yelled at Malfoy and told him that his twisted Slytherin logic couldn't explain away that Tom had, yet again, taken life. Instead of yelling, though, Hermione asked something she had burned to ask ever since the first time she had head of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

"Why do you follow Tom?"

Malfoy stilled as he heard Hermione's soft question. "W- what?"

Hermione sighed. "You were right. I do know how Tom is. So, what makes you follow someone so dangerous?"

Malfoy frowned at her and pointed out stiffly, "Well, you are his girlfriend. Clearly, you are following him around as well."

Hermione wrinkled her nose and said firmly, "That's different. I spend time with Tom because I actually like him. Aside from that he has no authority over me."

Malfoy contemplated her. Finally he said thoughtfully, "Riddle, he's… He's a very powerful wizard. He has plans and he has the brains to pull through with them. I truly believe he can change things. I want to be part of it."

Hermione nodded pensively. Then she remarked, "You do realize I'm Muggleborn, don't you?"

Malfoy's eyes were sealed up and unreadable as he mustered her.

"Yes, I know."

"And talking with someone like me doesn't collide with the principles of Tom's little group?" she asked snippily.

"I don't have anything against you personally," Malfoy said elusively. He hesitated shortly but then explained, "In a perfect world, Muggleborns would live together with wizards without any problems. But we are not living in a perfect world. All the Muggleborns entering our world put us at risk. Wizards are losing their jobs, our customs disappear and we are threatened to be exposed. Wizards mixing with Muggleborns cause the magical blood to dilute. If we don't do anything, in a few decades magic will have disappeared. The wizarding world will perish and nothing will be left of us."

Hermione looked up at Malfoy. He seemed so convinced of the rightfulness of his cause, so genuine in his concern about the wizarding race. It actually hurt Hermione. She didn't want to do this anymore. She didn't want justify her existence.

Hermione had wondered if Tom had changed. After seeing him in that memory, she had her answer. Tom was Voldemort through and through. He would continue spreading hatred against Muggleborns. In a few decades that hate would culminate in war. Hermione had seen that already. She was not going to be caught up in the middle of Tom's hate ever again.

Hermione turned her eyes at Malfoy and said softly, "Thank you for telling me about Avery. And I'm… I'm sorry I used Legilimency on you."

The Slytherin looked startled by that abrupt end of their conversation. Hermione averted her eyes from Malfoy and hurried over to the door leading from the Astronomy Tower.

_._._._._

Hermione felt shaky and sick. Malfoy's memory played out in front of her mind's eye. Over and over again, she watched that dark wizard killing Avery.

Dark wizard…

Maybe Hermione should be grateful for this wake-up call. She really was a naïve Gryffindor, just like Tom had said. What had she thought? That her love for Tom would change him? Hermione snorted bitterly. Yes, she did love him and she was quite sure that Tom loved her in his very own way. But at the end of the day, it didn't matter. Whatever Dumbledore might preach, Hermione had seen too much to believe that love could overcome everything.

She wasn't that naïve.

Disappointment, anger, sadness, it all tugged at her relentlessly. Even her magic swirled around her as a mournful cloud. Still, Hermione's hands were steady as stone as she opened the door and slipped into an abandoned classroom. It was rather late already. Hermione knew Hogwarts' population, including Dumbledore, was down in the Great Hall, having dinner.

As Hermione stood in the middle of the unused classroom, she bit the inner side of her lip hard. This was not what she wanted to do. Everything inside of her told her it was wrong, but she knew it would be the right thing to do. Determinedly she balled her hands into fists. A grim expression on her face, Hermione twirled on the spot and disapparated.

Seconds later, she came back into being, standing in Dumbledore's office. It was still as messy as ever. Strange silvery instruments were spread over the room and books that lay everywhere on the broad desk. There was a light aura of magic hovering over everything. It tingled pleasantly on Hermione's skin.

Hermione closed her eyes and let her magic flow from her body until it filled the whole room. It wasn't long until she detected a familiar source of magic. It obviously came from one of the drawers in the shelf behind Dumbledore's desk. Hermione's eyes snapped open. Protective wards were spun around the drawer. They were quite powerful, but so was Hermione's magic. It didn't take her longer than ten minutes and the wards yielded. With shaky hands Hermione opened the drawer. She was met by the silvery material of the Invisibility Cloak, just like Charlus Potter had said. Hermione clasped the cloak, pulled it against her chest and with a load crack she disappeared from the office.

Hermione reappeared at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She stood there for what felt like hours and just stared down at the silver cloak in her hands. Everything felt so unreal. Her body trembled all over. The accomplishment of her mission was so close. She would go home. Still, Hermione felt horrible.

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned and wasn't at all surprised to see Tom. Wearing his sleek uniform, he mustered her with concern in his grey eyes. He didn't look at all like that monster from Malfoy's memory. Appearances can be misleading. Hermione's fingers clasped the silvery fabric of the cloak tighter.

"What are you doing here?" Tom asked, worry tinting his voice.

His gaze dropped from her face and wandered to the silver cloak she pressed against her chest. His expression instantly grew dark. Cold eyes snapped back at Hermione's and Tom forcefully demanded to know,

"What is that?"

Hermione swallowed as she stared at Tom with wide eyes. She couldn't answer his question. Her throat felt constricted. So, she whirled around and ran away from Tom, into the Forbidden Forest. She couldn't think straight. She needed to get away from Tom.

Obviously Hermione was in a state of dazed shock, otherwise she would have remembered that Tom was a lot faster than her. A terrified gasp left her as she felt a hand roughly clasping her upper arm. She struggled but Tom was a lot stronger as well. He turned her around to him, tightly holding her by her shoulders. No room for escape, Hermione stared up at him with fear-widened eyes. Tom glowered at her, a sharp frown between his eyebrows. He tightened his grip on her painfully and growled, barely suppressed anger in his voice,

"What is the meaning of this?"

Hermione didn't reply. She only pressed the Invisibility Cloak tighter against her chest. Tom's intense stare was boring into her, his eyes ablaze with anger. Already his magic crackled around him forcefully.

"That is the Invisibility Cloak, isn't it?" Tom's voice was low, danger hidden within.

"Yes," Hermione breathed shakily

She gasped softly as Tom's magic achingly washed over her. It felt like thousands of sharp needles were stuck into her skin.

"Why do you have that cloak?" Tom never raised his voice, but it had a deathly cold tinge. "What do you plan to do with it?"

Hermione looked up at Tom. A dark glint smouldered in his eyes and his magic raged around him wrathfully. His hands on her arms clasped her painfully tight.

"You know what I plan to do," Hermione whispered tonelessly.

With that Tom's irate magic burned up and bristled in the air like electricity. Suddenly he yelled at her, making her flinch,

"Don't tell me you're still collecting the Hallows!"

As Hermione was unable to answer anything, Tom continued to yell at her furiously,

"You are not going to use them to travel to your time period. I forbid you to do that."

His sharp tone made it very clear that Tom would not tolerate any disobedience here. Ignoring his furious magic, Hermione told him gently,

"Tom, you've always known I can't stay here. I don't belong."

"I don't care about your stupid time travel rules," he hissed. "You belong with me."

Hermione stared up at him. Despite the anger twisting up his face, she could see desperation underneath. Her heart clenched as she saw it.

"Don't you understand?" she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I can't stay here. I have to go back."

"You 'Have to'?" Tom yelled enraged. "'Have to', Hermione?"

Abruptly he let go of her arms. Hermione stumbled slightly and blinked as Tom started to pace furiously in front of her. He glanced at her and snapped,

"You don't have to do anything!"

"If I stay here, I'll change the timeline," Hermione tried to reason with the angry wizard. "I can't stay. I could change the future. I could destroy everything. This is dangerous."

"Destroy the future?" Tom raged. "You can't destroy something that hasn't even happened yet!"

"I CAN!" Hermione screamed at him desperately. Then she added, her voice cracking, "It's my fault Marc is dead."

As he heard her tone of voice, Tom stopped his pacing and his angry magic died down. Hesitantly he took a step towards Hermione. His eyes were soft as Tom told her,

"It's not your fault."

Hermione was taken off guard by his sudden gentleness. She stared up at Tom and whipsered, desperation soaking her words,

"It is my fault. I am here in the past when I shouldn't be. I did things, I talked to people. And I changed the time line! My presence here was enough to get Marc killed. Without me, Grindelwald wouldn't have killed Marc. He wasn't meant to die. I caused his death."

"Grindelwald made Longbottom spy on Dumbledore. Sooner or later he would have killed him anyway," Tom pointed out but Hermione wasn't listening.

"Do not meddle with time! Bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time," she stated in a dead tone. "Me being here is dangerous. I am playing around with things I can't control."

Her eyes shot back at Tom and slowly wandered over him. He stiffened as her gaze scanned him so scrutinisingly.

"Hermione, you are not responsible for everything. Certainly not for the whole future," Tom said soothingly.

Hermione pressed her mouth in a thin line as she glared at him. "Don't you get it? It's not the future for me. It's my past!"

"You don't want to return to your time period," Tom reasoned with her gingerly. "You said so yourself."

"What do you suggest I do instead?" Hermione inquired, her tone harsh. "Do you want me to stay here in the past? With you? I can guarantee you that's not going to work out."

"B- but, I thought…" Tom said hesitantly. "I thought you… love me?"

Hermione snorted cruelly, "Sure I do. How long do you think that is going to work out for us?" She raised her eyebrows mockingly. "What? Forever? Ten years? One? Maybe we manage six months. I have my fingers crossed."

"Why do you say that?" Tom whispered, clearly taken aback by her hard words.

"Because with how things look right now it's only a matter of time until you go and implement your plans," Hermione snarled.

Tom furrowed his brow. "What plans?"

As if he doesn't know. Hermione glared at him and hissed nastily, "Oh, I don't know. Maybe becoming Lord Voldemort is high up on your agenda?"

Tom's eyes widened at the mention of that name. "I am not going to be that man."

"He is all you ever dreamed of, all you craved for." Hermione's tone was hard. "He has power, followers and no moral sense whatsoever."

Tom shook his head as he heard it. He took a cautious step towards her so that he stood directly in front of her. His eyes stared at her imploringly as he said,

"I've seen in your memories what he did to you. Do you really think I would be able to hurt you so?"

Hermione met his gaze unwaveringly, her eyes hard and unforgiving. As she didn't reply anything Tom said shakily,

"I told you, I will never hurt you, Hermione."

"So you promised," Hermione replied coldly. "But let's be fair, you broke promises before, didn't you?"

"Not this one."

"Then you are not going to hunt me down because I'm Muggleborn? No Torture curses for me?" she asked nastily. "How about this then? Maybe you'll instead use the bond between us to make me do your evil deeds. Maybe you won't use the Cruciatus curse on me but use my magic to hurl it at other people …at my friends. Either way, Tom, you will hurt me."

"I- I won't," Tom stuttered. "I won't be that man."

"You just claimed that my presence in the past did not cause Marc's death," Hermione snapped hotly. "What does that mean then? That I cannot change the past even if I tried? Is it already set in stone?"

"I don't know…" Tom looked at her helplessly.

"If that is true, then I already know your future." Hermione bared her teeth. "And I refuse to stay here by your side and watch how you turn into Him. I certainly won't be dragged down into your dirt."

"Why do you insist I would become that man?" Tom asked cautiously. "Didn't I already change much?"

He her hand in his and said gingerly, "I'm your boyfriend, Hermione, even though I know you are Muggleborn. I don't care about your parentage anymore. I opened up to you. You know things about me no-one else does. And I'm fine with that. I know the bond between us irks you. But I told you, I will never u-"

Hermione cut over him ruthlessly, "I know you killed Avery."

"-se it against you…" Tom's voice tailed off and his eyes widened. "What?"

Hermione mustered him coldly as she repeated, "I know that it was you who murdered Avery."

"N- no," Tom said, honesty wrapped around his voice. "I didn't do that. I didn't kill Avery. Who told you that? Dumbledore? It's a lie. I didn't do anything."

Tom's grey eyes were wide with shock. He looked at her with sincerity shining in his soft eyes, begging her to believe him. All of this only made Hermione wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Don't bother yourself," she hissed at him. "I know it was you. I already had my suspicions as I first heard about it. Then I went and talked to some people. Nicolls for example. And Malfoy."

Tom shook his head, still stubbornly remaining his mask of innocence. Hermione could see the shadow of unease building up behind his mask.

"Don't believe them," he said beseechingly. "They lie. They try to separate us. They tried it before."

"No, Tom," Hermione yelled, losing her temper. "I know it. I looked into Malfoy's mind. I've seen you. Don't deny it."

As Tom heard that, the innocent expression dropped from his features. He opened his mouth, his voice cold and emotionless.

"What should I have done instead? That bastard attacked me. Should I have just stood there and taken it?"

"No," Hermione replied furiously. "But there are a few more options than to kill him."

Tom's eyes were unreadable as he mustered her. "If Avery had managed to overcome me, he would have gone after you next. I couldn't let him do that."

"Tom. I don't need you to protect me against people like Avery," Hermione said gruffly.

"I couldn't let Avery get away with it," Tom hissed darkly. "Don't you understand? He would have tried again. I'm not losing against the likes of him."

Hermione snorted at him. Tom narrowed his eyes at her and asked mockingly, "Or maybe you would have enjoyed it if Avery had defeated me and you would have been bound to him? I'm sure he would have treated you like a real gentleman."

Hermione pressed her mouth into a thin line as anger ripped at her furiously. "You can go on and justify your actions as long as you want, but that won't change the fact that you killed another human being."

There was a fearsome red light glowing in Tom's grey eyes as he whispered in an eerily calm voice, "He deserved it."

"No," Hermione snarled. "Avery was a sick bastard and I really hated him, but he did not deserve to be killed."

She took a step towards Tom and glared up at him, her eyes hard as steel. "Just admit it, Tom, you didn't kill Avery because he threatened me. You did it because you wanted to. You enjoyed taking his life and that was the only reason you did it."

Hermione's eye glinted dangerously as she glared at Tom, daring him to contradict her. Tom's gaze wandered over her form. Surprisingly the eerie red glow disappeared from his eyes together with the anger.

"Hermione, please," Tom said, his voice soft and gentle. "I might not be a nice guy but I'm not that soulless demon you are making me out to be. Stop using my supposed evilness as an excuse to leave. You don't want to go back to your time. Why do you insist?"

He raised a hand and lightly put it on her shoulder. His gaze was intense as he looked into her eyes. Hermione shuddered under his touch. Swiftly she took a step back, ending the contact. Pulling the Invisibility Cloak tight against her, she said in a flat voice,

"I don't care what you say. It is my duty to go back to my time period."

"This is the present! Right here, right now!" Tom told her forcefully. "You have to stop running away!"

"I'm not running away!" Hermione snapped angrily. "I'm trying to protect the time line!"

"It is not your duty to do that," Tom insisted, holding her by her shoulders.

"My friends DIED, fighting for peace. How can I destroy their sacrifice?"

"This is ridiculous! None of your friends is dead yet!" Tom raised his voice and shook her gruffly. "No-one died! You have to stop feeling guilty."

Hermione averted her eyes, tears swimming in them. Tom saw it and told her gingerly,

"I haven't known any of your friends, but they wouldn't have wanted this. They wouldn't have wanted you to suffer so much. You have to finally let go of them. You are allowed to be happy."

Hermione broke free of him and took a step back, breathing heavily. Desperate tears ran down her cheeks as she screamed at Tom,

"NO! You say you didn't know them? That they didn't die?"

Her magic awoke and started to dance around her forcefully, fed by the anger boiling up in Hermione. Hatefully she glared at Tom and hissed,

"You know what? You killed them! Each and every one of my friends is dead. Because! Of! You!"

Tom stumbled a step away from her as her accusation hit him full force. A strangled laugh left Hermione's mouth as her eyes again wandered over him.

"Maybe it's even my fault that you… that you are… turning into that evil, disgusting monster!"

Tom's eyes widened as he heard that last word being hissed at him. Hermione, though, just continued to rage,

"You are already half-way there, aren't you? Everything you ever told me was a lie. I practically begged you to not betray me again, to be honest with me. I was so naïve to believe you. All this time you only… only wanted to have the power of the Elder Wand. I was so stupid to trust- …and now you own me."

Tom still stared at her, breathing hard, and just shook his head. Hermione's magic bristled around her. Still, the angry magic did not touch Tom. It didn't tug at him aggressively like it should and that fact enraged Hermione even more. Her next words were sharp as a blade and icy cold,

"You know what, Tom Riddle? As you turned up, you ruined everything. You killed my family. You killed my friends and my love. Everyone!" Her voice rose in volume and she was screaming in fury, "You destroyed me! You broke me and you laughed in my face whilst doing it. You really are a depraved monster! You suck the life out of everything!"

"And now… and now, after everything you've done, you want me to forget my friends?" Hermione hissed incredulously. "Just forget how they've fought and died? How I fought?"

Tom stood before her, frozen to the spot. Then he said softly, almost inaudibly, "I'm not a monster…"

"You tell me to be happy?" Hermione whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Without you, I would have been happy."

Tom turned his head to the side, avoiding her eyes. His hands were balled into tight fists. Hermione watched him as more tears spilled from her eyes.

"Give me the ring."

Her voice was stifled by tears but there was an underlying edge of steel. Tom still didn't look at her but his jaw clenched as he heard her order. His grey eyes wandered to the golden ring at his right hand. The black stone on the ring shone lacklustre in the sunlight. Unlike the stone, Tom's grey eyes shone beautifully as he gazed at her pleadingly. Then he whispered,

"Please…"

Despite the sadness wrenching at her, Hermione's face was stony and completely emotionless. Even the tear tracks on her cheeks seemed to be out of place on her hard face. She didn't reply to Tom's plead but just snapped her fingers. Her magic complied. The golden ring was forcefully ripped from Tom's finger and flew into her waiting hand. Hermione grabbed the Invisibility Cloak in one hand and the ring in the other. Then she called her magic and turned on the spot. The dark pressure of apparition took her and she fled Tom.

_._._._._

With a soft pop Hermione reappeared miles away from Hogwarts. Immediately she sagged down on her knees. Her empty eyes wandered over her surroundings. A rich green meadow lay before her. Not far away wheat was growing. The crops still shone in a bright green, but it wouldn't be long and they would turn golden yellow. Everything was so peaceful and idyllic. It was strange to imagine how Hermione had arrived here at this very same spot, not even a year ago. A refugee who had just managed to escape from a war-shaken country.

With trembling fingers Hermione spread the Invisibility Cloak out in front of her. Cautiously she put the Gaunts' ring on top of it. Then she sat, cross-legged, in front of the two Hallows and stared at them. Her tears didn't want to stop running down her cheeks. Angrily Hermione raised a hand and wiped them away. Her fight with Tom replayed itself over and over in her head. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered the hurt look on Tom's face shortly. But it was all true, what she had said. All valid. All the arguments to and fro were rock-solid. Hermione's mind was too structured, too organized, not to see that.

Trembling all over, Hermione sat in the grass. Time was flowing by. It always would. Always had. Her eyes were fixed on the Hallows lying before her in the grass. Her churned up thoughts didn't stop to circle around Tom. That sad broken look in his beautiful eyes, would that be the last she had seen of him?

'Depraved monster.'

Again Hermione's structured mind supplied her with the facts. Voldemort indeed was a monster. He was a killer and a torturer. He enjoyed others' pain. He was remorseless, merciless, cold and completely unable to feel compassion. Voldemort was evil and he had destroyed her life. Tom and Voldemort were one and the same man. So, calling Tom a depraved monster was justified.

Facts. All solid fact.

Hermione's index finger gently slid over the golden ring with the black stone as images burned up in her mind's eye. She saw Tom's handsome face smiling, his soft grey eyes glinting at her. She saw him laughing about something she had said. Then he was kissing her tenderly. His arms were slung around her tightly as if she were something precious, something worth protecting.

Facts...?

Tom was a liar and he had no scruples to use other people. He enjoyed to hurt others and did not even shy away from murder. He was exactly like Lord Voldemort. That was a fact. But the affection radiating from his eyes whenever he looked at her... that also was a fact. As far as he could, Tom loved her. And Hermione…? She loved him as well.

'Without you I would have been happy.'

That, on the other hand, was not a fact. Not even close to the truth. Without Tom, Hermione would not be happy.

That thought made her breathe in deeply. The scent of freshly mown grass, that had lain in the gentle summer sun, hit her. Hermione closed her eyes and let the warm sun shine down at her face. She inhaled deeply. The wonderful smell of the cut grass filled her nostrils. Now that all the facts were in the open, all the lies called and the truth revealed, what should she do?

Her direction had been so clear. She had been so sure what to do. Harry and Ron, she wanted to make them proud by doing what was right. She was supposed to go to her own time, back to the war-shaken country. Hermione glanced down at the Hallows. What held her back? Why couldn't she just do it?

…because she did not believe in monsters?

Hermione bit her lower lip hard, drawing blood, as she again touched the golden ring …Tom's ring.

Time was still flowing by. Continually and unaffected, it seemed. If time was a stream, was it possible to disrupt it? Hermione did not understand the concept of time at all and knew nothing of the consequences of changing it. No-one did, actually.

So, here she had ended up, Hermione thought as her eyes wandered over the green meadow. Stranded and completely lost. Hermione liked to analyse things, gather information and balance facts. On the basis of her research, she liked to make logical decisions. This time, though, solid facts did not solve anything. They pointed uselessly in both directions. She could either stay in the past and hope that nothing bad would come of it, or she travelled back to her time period… and hope that nothing bad would come of it.

Hermione closed her eyes and let her head fall back. The sun shone warmly in her face as a timid hope entered her mind. Could the river of time continue to flow by peacefully, even though a time traveller stood at its shore, observing?

Deep down Hermione knew, she could run from it, hide from it and deny it. She could call it her shame or temporary madness. She could claim the time travel had destroyed her otherwise so logical way of decision-making. In the end, though, it was very simple.

She did not want to leave.

Hermione still sat, eyes closed, in the middle of the meadow. The sun shone warmly down on her, the scent of fresh cut grass washed over her and a smile slowly curled up her mouth. It was time to go home.

She had to tell Tom that – depraved monster or not – she still loved him.

Hermione opened her eyes. Slowly, unhurriedly, she removed the necklace Tom had once given her. Then she slid the chain through the Gaunts' ring and put the necklace around her neck. The ring fell against her chest. With steady hands Hermione carefully folded the Invisibility Cloak. Holding the cloak in her hand, she stood up from the ground.

This time, as she twirled on the spot, her destination had never been clearer.

_._._._._

"Give me the ring," Hermione said, her voice harsh and without emotion.

Tom just stared at her numbly. Mercilessly Hermione ordered her magic to rip the ring from him. He could not stop her but just whispered shakily,

"Please…"

Hermione did not listen and with a soft crack she was gone. Tom felt his body tremble and he hated himself for it. He raised a shaky hand and wiped it over his face.

'Depraved monster…'

That insult wasn't new. Tom had grown up hearing things like that. Twisted, foul, insane, abnormal Tom Riddle. Depraved. The children at the orphanage had called him that, the care workers, Mrs Cole …Carter. They had thought he was possessed by a demon and had wanted to chuck him into a mental asylum. Mrs Cole had often exclaimed that only a lobotomy could help someone like him. They all had been convinced that Tom was evil and rotten to the core. Tom balled his hands into tight fists.

Had he really thought things would change?

Even here where he was at home, at Hogwarts, in the magical world, he was still strange… different.

Merlin, he had been so scared back in the orphanage. Tom remembered how he had cried himself to sleep, hoping that his mommy and daddy would come to save him. How pathetic. His mother had been a worthless, squib-like witch. Disgustingly weak. And his father had been a Muggle. Tom was glad they hadn't come and saved him. He certainly didn't need people like them in his life.

Now, Hermione had left him as well. She had abandoned him, just like his mother, just like his father. With empty eyes, Tom stared at the spot she had disapparated from. Hermione had been the only one who had ever seen him for what he really was and had still accepted him. Tom shook his head. He… he didn't need Hermione either.

He needed no-one.

With that a memory crashed down on Tom. Cruelly it played out in front of him as if wanting to remind him where he came from and where he needed to go…

Tom stepped out of his room and strolled down the narrow corridor towards the stairs. An evil smirk appeared on his face as he saw the fear in the other orphans' eyes and how they scurried out of his way.

Filthy Muggles!

If only he had his wand with him, then Tom could give those disgusting Muggles real reason to fear him. An angry scowl appeared on his face. Dumbledore had confiscated his wand over the summer break. How he hated Dumbledore.

There was group of pre-schoolers blocking the corridor. They hadn't yet noticed Tom, immersed as they were in their silly game of marbles. Tom sneered at them in disgust. A little girl with pigtails sat on the floor, a big red marble in her hand. Without saying anything, Tom cruelly shoved the girl out of his way. She was hurled against the wall and started to cry loudly. Tom ignored the Muggle girl and turned to the staircase.

He had to talk with the new patron, Carter. Tom inwardly sneered at the man. He had no desire to speak with that Muggle. It annoyed Tom greatly that Carter had dared to summon him to his office. As if he didn't have better things to do with his time. Only a few weeks and Tom would be off to his third year at Hogwarts anyway.

Tom reached the ground floor and walked over to the patron's office. He stood before the well-known door and reluctantly raised his hand to knock. Mrs Cole had often summoned Tom to her office, trying to lecture him. He suppressed an irritated sigh and knocked at the door.

"Enter," came a voice from behind the door.

Grudgingly, Tom opened the door and stepped into the room behind. It looked just as shabby as he remembered it: Mismatched old furniture, a rusty wood-burning stove in one corner and a worm-eaten desk right under the window. The patron, Carter, stood beside his desk and already eyed Tom suspiciously. The man stood tall and a large silver cross hung on a chain from his neck, proudly proclaiming what a pious man Carter was. Tom rolled his eyes in disgust, not at all impressed by the sharp frown between the man's eyebrows.

"Tom," Carter thundered irately. "What took you so long?"

Tom arched a lazy eyebrow at the man before he sneered dismissively, "I came here as fast as I could."

Carter's expression grew even darker, fury burning up in his eyes. Tom coldly ignored it. He didn't care what the stupid Muggle thought of him.

"Don't you use that tone with me, boy," Carter barked threateningly.

Tom only shrugged and asked indifferently, "So? Why did you want to see me?"

Carter's already purple face had turned a few shades darker. Opening his mouth, he bellowed at Tom,

"I want you to explain this blasphemy I found in your room. For your sake, I hope you have a good explanation."

Carter angrily pointed at something. Tom's cold gaze followed and found a book lying on the desk. His eyes grew wide as he took in the book's ancient leather cover. Tom's body froze over with shock. Even without having to read the book's title he recognized it: Curses and Counter-Curses. He had borrowed it from Hogwarts' library and had taken it with him back to the orphanage. Tom had hidden it away in his room, so no Muggle would see it.

As Tom stared at his book lying on Carter's desk, anger was swelling up in him. How dare that Muggle touch his things? How dare he lay his filthy worthless fingers on something that belonged to the magical world? Tom's eyes snapped back at the man and he hissed darkly,

"That's mine!"

Tom made to grab the book but Carter was faster. Quick as lightening, he stepped away from his desk. He forcefully grabbed Tom's upper arm and held him firmly, stopping him from getting the book.

"Let go!" Tom ordered while he tried to pull away.

Carter wasn't in the least bit impressed. He painfully tightened his grip on Tom. His eyes glinted with anger as he thundered furiously,

"So, you admit that this monstrosity is yours? That you are doing the devil's work?"

"You have no right to touch my things," yelled Tom furiously.

Carter raised his hand and slapped Tom across the face. A cry of pain and surprise left Tom. His free hand shot to his cheek.

Carter still held him tightly and hissed threateningly, "Mrs Cole warned me about you, boy. I will see to it that you learn respect."

Tom had got over his initial shock and redoubled his efforts to get away from the man. How dare that filthy Muggle hit him? Unfortunately, Carter was a rather brawny man and had no problems restraining a twelve-year-old Tom.

"Let me go!" Tom yelled angrily.

Carter's grip on him tightened again and Tom hissed in pain. The man snatched the library book and wrenched Tom over to the wood-burning stove.

"I will not tolerate your unchristian behaviour, boy. The work of the devil will never prevail under this roof," Carter exclaimed loudly as he took Tom's book and threw it into the fire.

Tom stared in shock as the pages of the book blackened and crumbled. He was brought out of his stupor as a brutal hand clasped a fistful of his dark hair and shoved his face closer to the fire. Heat burned on Tom's face as Carter hissed at him,

"Believe me, boy, this is where you go if you do not do penance."

With force, Tom tried to rip himself free of Carter's vice like-grip. He kicked out at the man and tried to wriggle free. A hiss left Carter as Tom's heel collided with his shin. He didn't let go of Tom, though. Instead Carter hauled him over to the office door.

"Get your hands off me!" Tom yelled at the man.

"I'm going to put you back on the right path, Tom," Carter hissed menacingly. "You will renunciate the devil."

Tom fought to get free as Carter pulled him over to the staircase. Fighting tooth and nail, Tom still couldn't prevent to be dragged down to the cellar.

"No wonder you are such a depraved boy," Carter stated sharply as they reached the cellar. "Your mother was a whore from the circus, eh? Getting herself pregnant with a bastard, that's the only thing she could do."

Tom gritted his teeth as he heard it. "I'm not a bastard!"

The man didn't react but just brutally hauled him down a dark, damp passageway.

"You should be grateful Cole took a disgusting monster like you in. I would have thrown you in the streets," Carter said cruelly as he opened a metal door and hurled Tom into the room behind.

Tom staggered and almost lost his balance. He could barely glimpse damp concrete walls and mildew on the floor, as once again Carter grabbed him. Tom gasped in pain as he was hit across the face. This time he managed to yank free and dashed for the door. His hand already closed around the handle as Tom felt someone grabbing him by the collar. Then he was hurled away and violently collided with the concrete wall. Tom fell to the floor. He held his aching shoulder as he stared up at Carter with wide eyes. The man loomed over him, his face purple with anger.

"I won't let you infect the other children with your satanic ways." Carter accentuated his exclamation with a kick. "This is a house of honest, hardworking people. We are devoting our lives to the Lord."

Tom gasped in pain as another kick hit him in the side. He lay crumbled on the floor and pressed himself against the wall behind him as Carter continued to hit and kick him. There was a metallic taste in Tom's mouth and he could feel blood flowing freely from his nose. Uselessly he tried to protect himself against the blows with raised arms. Soon Tom felt dizzy from the pain and his breathing was laboured.

Over the pain, he barely noticed that the kicks had stopped. Cautiously, Tom opened his eyes. Through a mist he made out Carter standing over him. There was something silvery in the other's hand. Tom gasped in pain as the man suddenly stepped on his left hand. Carter bent down to him and Tom realized it was a knife the man held in his hand. Tom weakly tried to get away. His fingers were still crushed under the man's heel as Carter sliced the knife deep into Tom's arm. Tom whimpered in pain as the knife was dragged through his flesh all the way from his wrist up to his upper arm. Instantly dark red blood flowed from the deep cut.

Sharp pain clouded Tom's mind and his whole body trembled. Then he was grabbed by the collar and yanked up. Tom moaned painfully. He cracked his eyes open and stared at Carter's face.

"If I ever find you again with something unholy like that book," Carter hissed at him, menace in his voice. "I will kill you, Tom."

His hand tightened around Tom's collar, almost chocking him.

"Do you understand?"

Carter's eyes were full of hate as they bored into Tom's. Tom could barely breathe, still he managed to choke out,

"Yes."

Carter let go of him. Tom's body weakly fell down on the concrete floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled into a tight ball. Pain wracked his body. Over his agony he heard the steps of Carter as he left the chamber. The heavy metal door fell shut behind him. Tom heard the sounds of it being locked. He was left behind, bleeding and hurt, lying on the dirty floor of the room.

Tom lay there, forever it felt. Hours and days. His mind was drifting. This way and that. He couldn't follow it anymore. There was only pain. And fear. He was terrified. He could feel everything slipping away. His body was hot with fever but Tom still trembled uncontrollably and felt icy cold. His cut arm hurt incredibly. Every movement sent agonizing jolts of pain through his whole body. He was so thirsty but there was no water. No-one to look after him. And Tom was scared. His body and his mind were deserting him. He knew he somehow had to survive against all odds. Tom begged his magic to help him. It was the only thing he could rely on. He forced himself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist. Even the pain was better than to be sucked into the darkness.

He didn't want to die…

Yes, that had been the moment, Tom realized. The moment as he had been at his lowest and as he had finally understood. Back then Tom had seen the truth and his path. Away from weakness and death. Away from his useless mother and his filthy Muggle father. He didn't need them. He didn't need anyone. He had his magic and his power. It was enough for him. How could he have forgotten? Tom wondered, disgusted with himself.

'You are a monster.'

Even she thought so. Hermione was a weakness. He didn't need her. A storm of anger was building up in Tom. She had side-tracked him. Full of lies. He had believed her. Believed in her. He had been blinded by her kindness. It had all been lies. Tom's magic left his body and crackled around him. It was purely dark, full of anger and hate. Tom closed his eyes and enjoyed his magic's fury.

'I love you.'

Her voice echoed through his head and made Tom's stomach knot with a strange feeling. His eyes shot open. Lies, lies, lies… his magic whispered to him. Cold as ice it wrapped around Tom's mind. Even if it was no lie, it didn't matter. Tom had his power and his magic. He did not need anything else. Not her, not anyone. He was no monster. Tom was different. Better. It was time he again followed his path. He would be invincible. The darkness of death would no longer threaten him.

Tom turned away from the castle and looked over to where the ground gate of Hogwarts was situated. In a weird way Carter had started it all, hadn't he? Consequently he should have the honours…

_._._._._

Hermione furrowed her brow as she stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Tom was no-where to be seen. She had left him behind here. Then again, she had been gone for quite some time. Still, Hermione desperately needed to find Tom.

'You suck the life out of everything!'

Hermione shuddered at her own harsh words. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her magic. The bond between Tom and her still didn't sit right with her but on this occasion she was going to use it. She summoned her magic and let it freely danced around her. There was a slight but noticeable pull on her magic into one direction. A smile washed over Hermione's face. That was Tom. He seemed to have wandered very deep into the Forbidden Forest. Maybe Hermione should have worried about that but she was just glad she had found him. Her magic was eager to envelope her and Hermione apparated to Tom.

As Hermione stepped out of the pressure of apparition, she was instantly hit by a wall of dark magic. She gasped in surprise. The magic was heavy in the air, surrounded everything and tore at her painfully. Hermione found herself in a small clearing, enclosed by a wall of trees. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the tree tops and the clearing was dived into semi darkness. But Hermione didn't realize all of this as her gaze was drawn to the source of all this dark magic. Tom was standing in the middle of the clearing. He hadn't noticed her yet. Hermione could feel waves of angry dark magic flowing from him. Then she spotted a figure lying on the forest floor. Hermione took a sharp breath of air as she recognized that person. She had seen that man before; he was the patron of Tom's orphanage, Carter. He was lying, unconscious, on the ground. Right beside him, lay a book. It was opened and the white of its pages stood out in the darkness. Horror wrapped around Hermione so tightly, she could barely breathe. She recognized that black book. It was a diary.

Trembling all over, Hermione took a step towards Tom. He still hadn't noticed her but his magic ripped at her furiously. It hurt as she moved and she was slowed down. It was like wading through a thick layer of mud. Suddenly Tom waved his wand and a bright white light emerged from its tip. The light flew through the air and circled above the fallen form of Carter and the diary beside him. Then the light descended slowly and split in two. One part wrapped around Carter's body the other lingered over the diary to then, after a few seconds, be sucked into its pages.

Fear flooded Hermione. She knew what was going on, though she had never witnessed such a ritual. This was the creation of a Horcrux. Tom wanted to create his first Horcrux! Mercilessly panic consumed Hermione completely. She couldn't let him do that.

'You are a depraved monster!' Her cruel words flew around her mind. Hermione still tried to get to Tom. He was only a few metres away from her, but the nearer she got the more difficult it was to break his dark magic down. She could feel strands of this overwhelmingly strong magic slashing at her. She tried to protect herself with her own magic, but still fine cuts appeared on her hands and face. A drop of blood trickled down her cheek. Tom still hadn't noticed Hermione, too deeply immersed was he in the dark ritual.

But he wasn't yet finished. Hermione could still see life in Carter's body. He breathed and twitched slightly while the bright light snaked around him. Tom hadn't killed him yet. It was then that Tom raised his wand and panic flooded Hermione. She could already see the dark curse as a faint green sheen at the tip of Tom's wand. He was going to kill Carter. He was going to rip his soul in two.

"Tom!" Hermione yelled desperately, before he could finish this darkest of all curses.

Tom hesitated as he heard her voice. He didn't lower his wand, but he turned his head towards her. Hermione gasped softly as she saw his face. It was a blank mask, impenetrable and completely emotionless. But his eyes… they were blood red, shining eerily in the twilight. They looked like embers, smouldering with hate. Nothing of Tom was left in those eyes.

"Tom, stop!" Hermione yelled.

There was not even a glint of recognition in his eyes as they wandered unblinkingly over her form.

"Please, you have to stop," she pleaded, her soft voice shaky.

Tom's gaze wandered to Carter, then it shot back at her.

"Why?" he asked and his voice was icy cold.

"Stop this," Hermione whispered desperately. "You can't do this. It's wrong."

"You want to save him," Tom stated in his soft, dangerous voice.

Hermione shook her head vehemently, while she still struggled to get nearer to Tom. His magic, though, stopped her. As much as she tried, his dark magic pushed her violently back.

"Of course you want to protect that man from me," Tom said softly, though the frighteningly cold undertone never left his voice. "Because I'm evil. I'm a monster."

He turned away from her and Hermione could feel his magic intensifying.

"NO!" she yelled as Tom started to wave his wand. "I'm not here to save him."

There were tears rolling down her cheeks as she watched Tom hesitating. He didn't finish his spell but again faced her.

"Not him?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"No," Hermione shook her head. Then she whispered, "This is only about you."

As he heard her, a sinister smirk curled up the corners of Tom's mouth.

"Me?" he asked, a vicious edge in his tone.

"You." Hermione looked at him pleadingly. "Only you. I don't want you to turn into that monster."

Suddenly, the dark magic around her wrenched even more forcefully at her. Hermione winced in pain as she felt that power on her body.

"Too late," Tom said in that horribly calm tone. "I already am a monster. You want to change me. But this is what I am."

Tom spread his arms while a cruel mocking smirk played around his mouth. Then he said, enunciating each word clearly,

"I am a murderer."

Hermione took in a shaky breath as she looked at that impenetrable cold mask on Tom's face. His eyes burned in a crimson colour as they bored into her.

"I know who you are," she said faintly. "I love you. Don't leave me."

His eyes flared up dangerously as he heard her. Then Tom sniggered darkly.

"You don't love me," he replied cruelly. "You love Tom Riddle. But he is a lie. He never existed. I'm Voldemort."

"No no," Hermione cried desperately. "It doesn't matter what you want to call yourself, I love you."

There was a flicker of doubt churning up the crimson colour in his eyes. But then it was gone and he said, his voice hard as steel,

"Too late. You were right. I am a monster."

Tom turned away from her. Hermione watched in horror how he waved his wand. She knew those wand movements and she knew that horrible power, building up around the wand's tip. It was a cold force. Merciless and without forgiveness. It was the only curse that could not be taken back. Its consequences were ultimate and irreversible.

Hermione could not let Tom do this to himself. There was no way she would let him hurt himself. She had to stop that.

Tom's dark magic was still everywhere. It flooded the whole area and stopped her from moving. Hermione summoned every bit of her own magic. She could feel it pulsing through her. A warm power. It had changed so much over the time, but it felt so good. So reassuring. Hermione let that power leave her body.

As her magic wrapped around her, Hermione suddenly felt how Tom's dark magic stopped to assault her. Instead the two forces mingled. Hermione wasn't really surprised. After all, her magic belonged to Tom. He was its master. Why should Tom's magic fight a part of itself? She let her magic mesh with Tom's. Now she couldn't use her magic anymore but Hermione could move again.

She watched how Tom pointed his wand at Carter. Beginnings of a curse were gathering at the tip of his wand. Hermione could smell it in the air. It left behind the disgusting taste of decay and putridity on her tongue.

She closed her eyes. Hermione was scared but she knew what she had to do. Her hand fisted around the silky material of Harry's cloak of invisibility. It was reassuring to have a piece of her past to accompany her. Even Tom's ring would be with her as it still hung around her neck. She wasn't alone. Her magic flowed around her. Strands of Tom's magic were woven into it. It felt so comfortable and familiar. Hermione breathed out slowly.

Then she heard Tom's voice. It was no surprise.

"Avada Kedavra."

Hermione's eyes shot open and she sprinted towards Tom. A green curse swished through the air towards the unconscious form of Carter. That man was going to get hit, but it was Tom who was going to die. Hermione had to save him.

The curse was unblockable. Once freed it wouldn't disperse without taking life. Hermione didn't hesitate, but plunged herself between Tom and Carter, right into the course of that green light.

Tom needed to be saved.

The curse soared towards her, crackling with raw power. The last thing she saw before the curse hit her was the crimson red disappearing, leaving behind soft grey eyes. They widened in fright. Hermione marvelled that softness, which had finally managed to dispel the hate completely.

After all, Horcruxes could only be born from coldblooded, remorseless murder.

The green light crashed into her chest.

It didn't hurt.

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

Author's note: Well, well, well. What a bumpy ride, eh? Before you scream bloody murder: I told you, there's one chapter left. I already wrote it. It's rather short (about 7000 words). I still have some editing to do but I will upload it in a week or so. At least you don't have to live a whole month with the cliff-hanger ;)

I want to thank all of you who read the story, alerted it or favourited it. Special thanks to all of you who reviewed. You have no idea how much it means to me. Without you I might not have gotten to this point of the story.

Thank you.

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