Tom Marvolo Riddle was not a man who begged.
He did not beg to be adopted, although the desire to be a part of a family had once interested him briefly.
He did not beg to fit in when he entered Hogwarts and then realized he was still considered different from the rest. He simply forced those around him to accommodate him.
He did not beg his paternal family to accept him when he realized that they knew of his existence all along — they just didn't care about him. No, he did not beg. He simply killed them.
He almost begged Dumbledore to let him return as a professor. Almost being the operative word. Rather, Tom swallowed the word "please" down his throat like an unpleasant shot of firewhiskey and left the grounds. He'd return to the only place he called home another way.
And he did.
What he found during his second time around turned him into a man who begged.
"Mr. Riddle!" A Scottish voice scolded.
Tom jerked awake and sat up straight, willing his cheeks to not turn red as his peers giggled. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, taking in his surroundings. He recognized where he was immediately, seeing as he had spent seven years learning Transfiguration under the tutelage of Professor Dumbledore in this same classroom. What Tom didn't understand was what he was doing here at Hogwarts after two years of graduating.
"10 points from Slytherin!" The voice continued. "I would hope that as Head Boy you would refrain from napping in my class."
Tom cleared his throat, completely bewildered. "My apologies, Professor."
He watched as the tall woman with the severe bun sniffed disdainfully at him before returning to the day's lessons.
Tom was glad to find out that Transfiguration was his last class of the day while he pretended as if this was a place that he belonged to. He made his way to where the Head Suite was during his own time, searching for the mirror that served as the entrance.
When Tom found it, he stared at his reflection, recognizing that he looked younger than he did the night before when he fell asleep.
"Tom?" He turned towards the voice and watched as a petite witch with a wild mane for her hair walked towards him. He noted the Head Girl badge pinned to her robes. "Is everything alright? I missed you at dinner and heard that you fell asleep in Professor McGonagall's class."
"I didn't sleep well last night," he lied. She gave him a look.
"Really? I'm sorry to hear that," she responded before she stood beside him in front of the mirror. She made eye contact with him through the mirror and smiled sweetly at him before looking at herself. "Hermione Granger," she stated clearly.
The mirror shimmered before it revealed an entryway.
"Ladies first," he gestured towards the Head Common Room. Again, she gave him a look before she shrugged and walked in.
"Tea, Tom?" She asked, heading towards the kitchenette and putting a kettle on the stove.
"Yes, please."
Tom sat on his favorite sitting chair (some things never changed) and tried to get a grasp on what was going on.
For once in his life, Tom had no idea. It seemed as though he had awakened in a parallel universe or was stuck in a dream about his time at Hogwarts. The former was a little ridiculous but it made much more sense than the latter. Tom had not recognized a single one of his professors, save for Professor Binns, nor his peers, although some resembled those that he attended Hogwarts with.
So, a parallel universe made more sense than his subconscious creating hundreds of new people to play various roles in his dream. Much more sense.
Hermione interrupted his musings as she proffered him a mug of steaming tea. He accepted the mug and waited for her to take a seat before he took a sip. She watched him through narrowed eyes as he swallowed the first sip. Tom was pleasantly surprised when the tea was just as sweet as he liked.
Hermione leaned back in her seat and drank from her cup before she spoke. "So, you have the same taste buds as him it seems. Anyone with a normal palate would have spat that sugary concoction out as soon as they tasted it."
"I beg your pardon?" Tom wasn't one for panicking and slowly reached for his wand, gripping it loosely in his hand. He wasn't sure if she was a threat yet.
"I woke up beside you this morning, love, and you said you slept just fine. Now, I thought that you were maybe Harry or even Draco pulling a prank on me since you didn't give me a kiss when you saw me but then you drank the tea. Harry drinks his with two spoons of sugar, and Draco takes his tea without any sugar, but a splash of milk. You put at least five spoons of sugar in your tea, which I still believe is disgusting no matter what you say."
She took another sip from her own mug and continued before Tom could respond. "So I assume you're some weird version of my boyfriend. Although you are just as handsome and probably just as smart, I would prefer having him here instead of you. If you could, please go back to where ever you came from -"
"I don't know how I got here," Tom interrupted the witch, prompting her to arch an eyebrow at him. She didn't reply which gave him time to recollect his thoughts.
It seemed that he was, indeed, in a parallel universe. His alternative-self was dating a clever witch who was currently twirling her wand and sipping her tea. How he got here was still a mystery to him, but -
"Are you going to continue or are you just going to stare at me?" She snapped in irritation.
She was both clever and spirited. It seems that Other-Tom has taste, too.
"What was your name again?" he asked.
"Hermione Granger," she sighed in exasperation. "Now, do tell."
Tom leaned back in his chair and eyed her wand. "I believe that I come from a parallel universe."
"Obviously."
He glared at her. Clever, spirited, and a pain in the ass. How did Other-Tom stand her?
"In my universe, I've already graduated. I was also Head Boy and when I graduated, I worked for Borgin & Burkes. I don't know how aligned my life there is with Other-Tom's -"
"Technically," she interrupted. "You're Other-Tom."
"Could you stop interrupting me, witch?" He asked in clear annoyance.
Hermione scoffed at him. "Don't call me 'witch' with that tone, you sexist -"
"I apologize," Tom forced out, certain that she would begin a tirade if he didn't. "I misspoke."
She harrumphed before she motioned for him to continue. "As I was saying, I don't know how aligned our lives are, so perhaps you can give me a quick background."
There was silence, and the two of them stared at each other. Tom took her in, noting her delicate frame and features. She was quite pretty, beautiful actually. The most charming of her physical assets were her eyes which were the color of rich soil, expressive as she unabashedly stared at him. Like she was familiar with him.
He supposed that she already was.
She exhaled loudly, drawing him from his reverie. In a perfunctory tone, Hermione began."Your mother was Merope Gaunt, and your father was Tom Riddle Sr. You grew up in Woolen Orphanage where you were bullied before you became the bully. We met because you're Harry Potter's adopted brother, and Harry and I are best friends. You discovered that you were the Heir of Slytherin and distanced yourself from the Potter family until fourth year when some idiot put Harry's name in the Tri-Wizard Cup."
Hermione then smiled fondly and took another sip of tea. "You asked me to the Yule Ball that year, but I had already agreed to go with Viktor Krum. I believe he mysteriously fell down the stairs the day of the ball and was unable to escort me. It was quite a coincidence that you were there without a date at all. Fast forward to fifth year, you opened the Chamber of Secrets and accidentally killed Myrtle Warren. I became...an accomplice and helped you with covering it up."
"And what about sixth year?" He asked. He had killed his grandparents and father the summer before.
Hermione gave him another smile, and it was predatory. A shiver crept up his spine, and he marveled at the partner that Other-Tom had chosen.
"You located your paternal family and your maternal uncle during winter break," she answered. "You tried to murder them all but I convinced you otherwise."
"You convinced me?"
"My Tom and I have plans, Other-Tom," she gave a delicate sniff before she got up and headed toward the kitchenette, pouring herself another cup of tea. "One murder, accident or not, is forgivable and easily concealed from the general public. But a total of five? Absolutely not. The only reason why you and I were able to get away with Myrtle's death is because the Potters and the Blacks protected us. If it weren't for them, Dumbledore would have had us removed."
"But what about -" He stopped, unsure if Other-Tom had thought of Horcruxes.
"But what about your Horcruxes?" Hermione gave a snort and shook her head. "What fools, both of you. Have you no one to confide within your world, Other-Tom? I looked into it, and my Tom and I argued over it. The risks outweigh the benefits. It's almost reckless to create something like that. We're looking into other means. Which brings me back to my original point. I want my Tom back, and I want him back now."
"As I've said, Hermione, the manner in which I came to be here is not clear to me."
She leaned against the counter and tilted her head back, closing her eyes. "So you've told me." She opened her eyes and stared straight at him. "Whatever. We'll hit the stacks starting tomorrow. You seem sharp enough. Make sure you don't ruin my Tom's grades while we figure this out. It's about to be N.E.W.T. 's season, and he'll be rightly pissed if he returns to find that he's received Trolls in all his classes. Let me give you the rundown on how this all goes. There's much that is different."