A/N: Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter guys, mucho appreciation is being sent your way. Not sure when this will next be updated - February is a heinously busy month for me - 11 gigs plus hauling ass all over the country, plus lectures, plus assignments equals TOTAL nightmare. But hey, I'm sure it'll be worth it. I'll get to do lots of writing on the train anyhow, but I'll probably have a lot of catching up to do typing wise at the end of it all. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, things will be hotting up very shortly. Let me know what you think!
Tempora Abducto.
by Flaignhan.
"Am I making it sound boring? It sounds boring doesn't it?" Hermione sighed.
"Well it's hardly going to be the most entertaining thing anybody's ever heard is it?" Tom said, flicking the page of the magazine over, trying to sap every last atom of information out of the article.
"Did you get a reply from Belby?" Hermione asked, putting her notes down and taking a seat opposite him.
"Yes," he said, his attention still on the article. He took a letter out of his bag and passed it to Hermione, who scanned through it quickly.
"Well that's great!" she said, "all the patients in St Mungo's are showing vast signs of improvement according to him. One of them's even started talking again!"
Tom tutted and looked up from the article. "Don't sound so surprised..." he looked back down again before he threw the magazine onto the desk. "There's barely anything in there. It'll cover...three minutes, tops. And they'll be the most boring three minutes anybody's ever sat through in their life."
Hermione groaned and put her head in her hands. Their presentation was due the following afternoon and this was their last chance to put any finishing touches on it. She could see Eric and Richard having a whispered argument on the other side of the library, looking as though they had accomplished nothing at all. It was only a very small comfort that her and Tom's presentation would be better than theirs, at least.
"How can we make it interesting?" she asked, gripping her bushy hair between her fingers before she released it and sat back in her chair. She folded her arms and waited for Tom to answer.
"A demonstration?"
"Oh yes, let's just haul in a victim of Spattergroit and chuck some potion down their throat. I'll leave that one up to you then."
"It was just an idea," Tom said sulkily. "Why don't you think of something?"
"Because all you've done for the past three hours is stare at that bloody magazine!" Hermione hissed.
A few fifth year students revising at a nearby table whipped their heads around at the disturbance, faces set in an expression of disapproval, ready to tell off the noise-maker.
"Problem?" Tom asked mildly, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.
They shook their heads and turned back to their work, one of the girls casting a shy glance back to their table, looking quickly away again when she realised Tom was still watching them.
"We could make it more visual," Hermione suggested, tearing her eyes away from the fifth years and back to Tom. "Maybe put up some bullet points so it's easier for people to take notes."
"I'll let you do the writing," Tom said, picking up the magazine again.
Hermione snatched it from his hands. "That won't help," she reminded him. "And I won't need to do any writing. We can use the Perlustro Charm."
Tom frowned and Hermione waved her wand. A screen appeared, hovering in the air. As Hermione spoke, reading from her notes, bullet points began to appear on the screen, summarising what she was saying.
Tom laughed.
"Well it was only an idea," Hermione said, lowering her notes, the screen vanishing with a sharp jab of her wand. "No one really wants to listen to us talk, it's just a way for Slughorn to get out of teaching." She huffed and sat back in her chair, fiddling with a loose thread on the cuff of her robes.
Tom smirked. "You're becoming more cynical by the day. I approve."
Hermione's cheeks tinged pink, but Tom continued as though he hadn't noticed.
"And I like the idea. It's just that I'm ninety-nine percent sure that that spell does not exist."
Hermione's mouth formed into a small 'O', though no sound escaped her lips.
"Yes," Tom said, mock disapproval raising his eyebrows. "Oh, indeed. Where did you learn it?"
"In a Charms lesson...third year I think," Hermione told him.
"Did you learn who invented it?"
Hermione shook her head, then flicked a rogue strand of hair out of her face.
"Perhaps..." Tom began, resting his mouth against his thumb and forefinger, his eyes narrowed in concentration and staring into space as he thought. "Maybe..."
"If you feel like finishing your sentence any time soon," Hermione said, "then be my guest."
Tom smiled, the skin around his eyes creasing just a little in the brief moment before the smile dropped. "Maybe it was never invented. Maybe you learned it in the future, then brought it back here and your future self learned it after you passed it on. A sort of...circle of time, if you will."
"Sounds plausible," Hermione agreed. "But there's no proof. We'd better not use it."
"I'm going to use it then," Tom said. "Slughorn will give us Outstandings before we even open our mouths. Can you use it for pictures as well? We could put up some of the pictures of the victims that are in the magazine," he pulled the magazine towards him and flicked quickly through the pages until he reached the article. "See?"
"You're not going to use it," Hermione said firmly. "That would be stealing somebody else's work!"
"Only possibly, and if so, who cares? It's not exactly ground breaking stuff, I haven't invented a cure for werewolves. What's the problem?"
"Do you have any sort of moral compass?" Hermione demanded, pulling the magazine out of his hands. She was tempted to hit him with it, but did not like the idea of the consequences she would unquestionably face. She had no idea what they would be, other than utterly horrible, of course.
"Hermione, I am willing to bet you all the gold in Gringotts – and believe me, I could get my hands on it if I really wanted – that you using that spell is the reason that you learn it in fifty years time. Don't argue with me. You know it's true, you're just being overly cautious, as always."
Hermione smiled. "You really think you've got me pegged, don't you? I'm a little goody two shoes who's never broken a rule in her life, right?"
"Slightly hysterical at times, incredibly stubborn, desperate to prove yourself, and seeing as you're in Gryffindor I'd hazard a guess at you being brave," he said the last word with an air of disgust, his nose wrinkled and his top lip curled.
"Just you wait fifty years," Hermione said, and for a change she was the one smirking. "You won't know what's hit you."
"You know how you're so concerned about me torturing information out of you?" Tom said, with the same amount of pleasantry that Hermione might have expected if he was asking her about her plans for the weekend.
She decided it would be best to say nothing.
"Well you're not exactly helping yourself, throwing about all these tantalising hints and not expecting me to want to know more."
"I'm comfortable with the future," Hermione told him, not breaking eye contact. "I couldn't care any less about what happens to me here."
Tom frowned. "Your utter disregard for your general well-being is quite worrying. Were you this careless in the future?"
Hermione looked sharply around them to make sure nobody heard and Tom rolled his eyes. When she was satisfied that nobody was listening in, she spoke. "What do I do? After this year? These lessons are the only thing that's keeping me sane, but then what? I'm just going to disappear, I know it, I'll just stop existing or I'll meet some tragic end and –"
"You're here. For good. This is your life. It always has been, and it always will be. You can either live it, or you can merely exist. Your choice. And if you want to live it, I think the best way would be to claim the credit for that Perlustro Charm tomorrow afternoon."
"Tom I don't think it's a –"
"Trust me," he said, cutting her off. "It'll be fine, stop worrying."
"As if I'm going to trust you," Hermione retorted.
"You will. It might take a while, but you will. Don't worry, I'll be patient. You'll need me eventually," he stood up and took the magazine from Hermione's hands, replacing it on the rack near the media archives.
"What's the matter?"
Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice. "What? What d'you mean?"
"You look as though you've seen a..." he trailed off.
"Ghost?" Hermione supplied.
"Well, yes, but it's not very fitting seeing as they're all over the place. Are you muggleborn?"
"Yes," Hermione replied firmly. "And proud of it too."
"Good for you," Tom said with a false smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
He left, and Hermione wondered whether she had made a mistake by revealing that information to him. She had more pressing concerns though. Tom had gone, but his words still seemed to be hanging in the air.
"Trust me."
"I'll be patient."
"Patience and trust, Hermione, patience and trust."
She didn't move for another forty five minutes.
"As you can see from the images here, there has been a significant improvement in Mr Wallace's health over the last three weeks," Tom gestured towards Hermione's screen, which was currently airing a slide show of pictures, which were various degrees of gruesome.
Several people pulled disgusted faces at the sight of the pustules, but did not look away from the photos.
"This is history in the making, ladies and gentleman. And this, is the future. Thank you for listening." Tom smirked as a small ripple of applause echoed around the dungeon.
Hermione flicked her wand and the screen vanished, taking the unpleasant images with it.
"Very good!" Slughorn said, getting to his feet, beaming. "This is the future indeed! What was that charm you used there?" he directed the question towards Tom, despite Hermione having been the one who had cast it.
"The Perlustro Charm," Tom informed him. "It's one of Miss Mercer's own creations. She suggested that we use it for our presentation and I thought it was an excellent idea."
Hermione remained quiet, while Tom played his modest card.
"Your own creation Miss Mercer?"
"Oh, yes," Hermione said, her cheeks growing slightly pink as she took the credit for something she didn't deserve.
"Very very well done," Slughorn said. "Excellent! I shall inform Professor Dippet of your discovery! Very useful little charm that one! Top marks, both of you! A very informative and interesting presentation."
"I'm glad you think so Professor," Tom said with a smile. "We didn't want to bore you with things that you already know inside out, so we thought we'd choose a recent breakthrough."
"Well I'm very glad you did. Now, Eric, Richard, you're up next."
"Sir, I'm afraid we won't be able to follow that," Eric said in an oily voice.
"Of course you won't, you haven't got a tenth of the brains that Tom and Hermione have between the pair of you, but you'll have to do your best, won't you?" Slughorn sat down and pulled the drawer of his desk open. He pulled out a large piece of crystallised pineapple, winking at Tom as he and Hermione sat down and Eric and Richard moved to the front of the dungeon.
Hermione watched as Richard and Eric fumbled their way through a presentation, mentioning several potions, all of which they had already studied. Slughorn watched with a critical eye, occasionally popping another piece of pineapple in his mouth.
Tom slid a piece of parchment across the desk towards Hermione.
See, I told you.
Hermione pushed it away with a roll of her eyes.
"I hear you came up with a new invention," Dumbledore said as Hermione took a seat in his office.
Hermione sighed.
"Not yours?"
"It's not anyone's," Hermione told him. "I learned it, in the future, and I didn't think about it when I suggested to Tom that we could use it for our Potions presentation and then he went ahead and told me that spell didn't exist. He said if I wouldn't use it then he would, and the reason I learned it in the future was because I used it here, essentially inventing it."
Dumbledore pressed his hands together, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair.
"I'm a fool, aren't I?"
Dumbledore paused before answering. "I won't deny that you ought to be more cautious in the future," he said. "Though I think perhaps Mr Riddle was right, on this occasion. He would have used it himself, thus leaking it to the world. You have, after all, always been here. The past does not change your future, your future is as concrete as yesterday, unless you make a conscious attempt to alter everything. For example, were you to murder somebody who is still alive in your time, then everything would begin to unravel, however, the fact that you live here changes nothing, do you understand?"
"I think so," Hermione said with a frown. "As long as I don't try to change my past, the future is safe? But any... accidents, they always happened anyway?"
"In a nutshell, yes. Caution is always advised, however, Hermione."
Hermione nodded and silence fell.
"He bribed Professor Slughorn," she told him after a short while. "So he could work with me."
"Really?" Dumbledore's blue eyes lit up with interest.
Hermione nodded. "Crystallised pineapple. Professor Slughorn adores it. He always gives Tom what he wants if he's got a box of that."
"Most interesting," Dumbledore said, nodding. "Unfortunately, Professor Slughorn is the sort of man who can be swayed by simple gifts. He'll do nothing if he sees no gain in it for himself, short term on long term. I would expect nothing less, however. He is, after all, Head of Slytherin house."
Hermione let out a short laugh.
"Yes, I think it would be best if you kept that quiet. It would not go down well if the Professor thought I was being discourteous about him while his back was turned. I do, of course hold a lot of respect for Professor Slughorn. He is a very good teacher, and a credit to the school."
"Of course, Professor," Hermione said with a wry smile. "I'll keep it quiet."
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Now, your Occlumency lesson..."