A/N: Thanks for the reviews, I greatly appreciate them and they help motivate me.
It was the middle of the week, after curfew. Hermione treaded softly between the rows of bookshelves in the Hogwarts library. She had gone through many tangentially related topics that could relate to her time-traveling object, and she was getting a bit desperate. Her next topic to research — centaurs.
Perhaps the centaurs, ancient magical beings who practiced their own form of divination and studied astronomy, may have some insight into her predicament. She needed to understand their culture much more before she could even dream of approaching them, however. Firenze was an exception, attacked and banished by his colony, as they saw him teaching at Hogwarts as servitude to the wizarding kind. Perhaps she could find him and convince him to help her.
Back when she was a student, most of her classmates scoffed at the way she quit Trelawney's Divination class. It wasn't that she didn't believe in Divination. It would be unwise to say that an ancient branch of magic wasn't viable. Magic comes in many unexpected forms. She just found it to be a worthless class because she couldn't learn anything. No one could teach another to be a Seer, so what was the point?
Her time at Hogwarts was limited, and she wanted to spend her time actually learning something that can be learned. It was a complete waste of her time because divination was an inherent ability that she simply did not possess. If Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore both believed in Divination and prophecies, who was she to argue with them? A part of her still believed that 'The Prophecy' involving Harry was a self-fulfilling one, but who really knew?
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the slightest movement. She's become even more paranoid lately, and even a flicker of a shadow had her on edge. She tilted her head extremely slightly, eyes landing on a tabby cat in a dark corner. She glanced away quickly to the shelf in front of her. She picked up a random book and began flipping through it casually, mind working furiously, and feeling only slightly betrayed.
Minerva McGonagall — spying on her in the library late at night? Albus Dumbledore must have put her up to this.
Hermione wanted to mostly avoid communicating with key figures from the future, but it seemed like having a long chat, beyond educational small talk, with the transfiguration professor was going to be inevitable. Minerva was one of the good people, but she couldn't help but feel a bit defensive. Didn't they understand that she was just trying to help?
Most of her time spent at Hogwarts involved teaching, making lesson plans, and fulfilling Voldemort's demanding training regimen. Perhaps it was time for her to make some friends, so she could blend in a bit more.
She'll delay the confrontation a bit longer, however. She wanted to see the depths Albus Dumbledore was willing to sink to.
The following weekend, she had a few hours to spend in Malfoy's library before her next lesson with Voldemort started.
Abraxas Malfoy walked beside her as they made their way to the library.
"How is Lucius performing in your class?" Malfoy asked.
"Lucius is quite capable and one of the top students in his class, actually. He's not very humble, though, so I wouldn't mention that to him, unless you want him to become complacent in his spellwork."
"I'm proud of him, but are you saying he's not the best student?"
"Well, there may be a Gryffindor or two…," she pondered.
"Miss Kraus, please. You know I am unwilling to believe that," he chuckled.
She shook her head at him in amusement. He stopped them before they reached the library doors.
"If you'd allow me to join you today, I have some research of my own to do regarding some rare potion ingredients," Malfoy said.
"Dare I object? They are your books, after all," Hermione teased. She turned to study him. That first week, the gossip at school revolved around Abraxas Malfoy and whatever business he could have with the new DADA professor. She found it to be utterly laughable. A wizard like Malfoy was likely only interested in haughty pure-blood socialites who would look good on his arm at high society events.
Some students wondered if it was going to be a conflict of interest, but no one noticed any favoritism towards Lucius Malfoy or the Slytherins in general, and most of the students decided to dismiss it as an unproven rumor and moved on to more interesting gossip. However, the Slytherins became more curious about her and were quite polite overall.
"I suppose I just wanted to respect your space. You seem to enjoy the peace and quiet as you explore and read," Malfoy said as he followed her to her favorite corner.
"I don't mind the company. I mostly only get to interact with students these days. What kind of potion ingredients?" she prodded. "Do you need any help?"
"No need to trouble yourself. It's just something that a friend, Avery, has been working on for months. He enjoys experimental potions and is a very secretive person these days. He wanted to visit himself today and find the specific books involved, but of course, I wouldn't risk you suffering his presence."
"That bad, is he?" she asked.
"No, just a bit overwhelming in his fervor to please the Dark Lord. He was, well let's just say he was punished for calling our leader by another name when he first returned from the continent. Old habits die hard, I suppose."
"Voldemort doesn't like his old name? What was wrong with it? I distinctly recall you calling him 'Tom' when I first visited here."
Malfoy's face fell. "You remembered that? He just finds it unsuitable...not memorable enough perhaps, but really, no one should pretend to know what his thoughts are. He's a... complex wizard," he sighed. He turned completely to face her as they reached her favorite table. "It's best if you forget what I said. Let's not speak of it ever again," he laughed nervously.
"Speak of what again?" She looked at him with the most guileless expression she could muster.
Malfoy's wry grin and wink made her laugh as he gently swept up her hand and bowed politely over it. He looked like he was about to touch his lips to her skin before he changed his mind. He excused himself to seek out his own books for Avery.
After he turned the corner, Hermione slumped dejectedly against the nearest bookshelf. There was no way she could safely research with Malfoy lurking about. Her goal today was to seek out books about centaurs or any other magical beings that may be familiar with the ancient language depicted on her cursed artifact. The Hogwarts library was as expected — not helpful at all. She was hesitant to approach the centaurs directly, as she still needed to develop a strategy first.
She decided to spend her time researching Legilimency and Occlumency instead, though she wasn't sure how much more she could learn at this point. It's been at the back of her mind ever since Voldemort attempted to perform Legilimency on her and seemingly failed. She was sure it was the only reason why she was still alive right now. Something blocked him, and it wasn't due to her 'formidable' skills in Occlumency.
It must be her evil artifact. It protected her from Voldemort's Legilimency with its unknown, serendipitous powers. Harry Potter was always the lucky one, and she was always the unlucky one. Her being here in this harrowing time period was only further proof of that.
She was the one who brewed the Polyjuice potion in her second year, but couldn't participate when she turned into a cat hybrid. She was the one who figured out the Chamber of Secrets had a Basilisk, but was the one who ended up petrified. She was the one tortured at Malfoy Manor after disguising them. The universe had to give her something at some point.
After a while, she sat at her favorite table and was flipping through a book on Occlumency casually when a shadow fell over the table.
"Miss Kraus, I see you've found a comfortable spot here. What are you reading?"
She looked up at Abraxas Malfoy, who had two books in his hand, but the titles were turned away from her. Before she could answer, he had flipped her book so he could see the cover.
"Shielding the Mind Vol. III? Are you studying Occlumency, Miss Kraus?"
"Just looking to see if there's anything I missed in my study, actually. I have some skill in it," she said, wondering if she should have disguised the book.
"A rare and difficult skill among us. Most would have no need to learn Occlumency or Legilimency."
"Well, did you forget I was an Auror? You can imagine how disastrous it would be if we were captured by the enemy. It's one of the known methods of resisting interrogation and Veritaserum."
"Right, of course. So what is lacking in your skill? I may be able to help. I have skills in both Occlumency and Legilimency."
"Actually, I would appreciate some help. Will you try breaking into my mind? I'm just testing a theory."
Malfoy seemed to hesitate at her unusual request. "Are you sure? I suppose I can do it gently, if you'd like."
"You don't have to, but sure." She gazed straight into his bright blue eyes. She was taken aback slightly by their intensity. She passively noted that Lucius and Draco's eyes were nothing like his. They must have been a cold, flat grey from what she could vaguely remember? She couldn't even recall the last time she saw Draco Malfoy. He avoided most public functions. All she remembered was his pointy face and white-blond hair. She had to stop thinking about the descendants of the wizard in front of her, as he prepared to read her mind.
She shielded her mind with multiple layers of Occlumency Shields. the strongest she could manage, as if she were going up against Lord Voldemort himself. He prodded several times, trying to find an opening somewhere, but her mind was highly organized. He only saw what she wanted him to see, which were routine and inconsequential — memories of running around the lake, or teaching. She fed him lesson after boring lesson in DADA until he finally gave up.
"I can't seem to get in, Miss Kraus." He turned away and frowned in consternation.
She was confused as well. So Dumbledore was able to read her mind because she allowed him in. Abraxas was unable to read her mind because she blocked him with everything she had, but she was still at least able to sense him trying to force his way in. But Voldemort, one of the greatest Legilimens in recent history, couldn't penetrate her mind when she wasn't even actively shielding it?
Something was definitely wrong.
"Don't take it personally, Mr. Malfoy. I don't think Voldemort was able to enter my mind, either. It must have been why he tried to recruit me in the first place. I'm not easy to read, which is helpful if I'm supposed to keep things from Dumbledore."
Malfoy nodded absently. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of much help."
"Oh no, thank you. You did help me, actually," she insisted.
"Well then, I'm happy to provide any assistance. Would you like me to escort you to the Dueling Room?"
"No, thank you, I'll just finish up here first."
"Anything new with Dumbledore?" Voldemort asked, the following week.
This was what he needed from her. The reason he even bothered teaching her lessons.
"I haven't noticed anything unusual about him. He seems to be focused on running the school at this time. He's never absent for staff meetings, and is always at school for all the meals. I don't think he's been meeting with anyone in particular — political or otherwise," answered Hermione.
"What about magical creatures? Such as werewolves, giants, goblins, or centaurs? I suppose you'd have no idea unless you followed him."
Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't follow him around all hours of the day. But I don't believe he's met with any of them. I imagine he would have a liaison for that, like Hagrid, for certain magical creatures."
It was fine. Everything she told him was inconsequential so far.
"Are you an Animagus by chance? It would be a useful skill for following him," he asked.
"No, not an Animagus, sorry." She was reminded of Minerva's Animagus form following her on Dumbledore's orders just the other day, and had to hold her tongue not to mention it.
"Hermione, have you ever wondered why Dumbledore is Headmaster at Hogwarts?" Voldemort sat down on the emerald green couch and leaned against the seat.
"Well, he was the Head of Transfiguration beforehand. He loves education, I'd imagine."
He gestured for her to sit as well. "But have you ever wondered why an accomplished wizard like him isn't the Minister of Magic?
She had always wondered why an accomplished wizard like Tom Riddle never became Minister of Magic. If he had just reigned in his darkness a bit, he could have used political power to obtain everything he wanted.
She thought about her own reasons. "Perhaps Dumbledore hates politics. It's not for everyone. I briefly considered joining the Ministry in the past myself, not as an Auror, but for social reform and creature rights, but honestly, I realized it's not for me. Too much of it was about who you knew and how much they liked you."
"Yes, and would you believe me if I told you being Headmaster at Hogwarts has more power than being Minister of Magic? There is loyalty to be gained, influencing young minds. They are the future of the wizarding world. Politics may come and go, but shaping the future generations of witches and wizards — that's where his power truly lies. Why do you think Dumbledore has gained so much respect and so many followers with so little effort? He had those in abundance even before he defeated Grindelwald."
She was annoyed with how much she agreed with him at this moment. They had the same observations about Dumbledore. "He taught them. He personally taught almost everyone of influence, under a certain age, in Wizarding Britain. He was their beloved professor."
"Exactly. And this is why teaching is never just teaching. I know you take your job very seriously, and you will have your students' loyalty for it," he asserted.
"Their loyalty to me means loyalty to you, is that it?" She turned to look straight into his eyes.
He threw his arm around the couch's backrest behind her and turned slightly towards her. "Are you?" She felt like a little bird, plucked out of its nest and pinned down for examination.
"Of course, Lord Voldemort. So long as this is mutually beneficial," she said evenly as she glanced away from his penetrating stare.
A huff of amusement left him as he looked away as well. "Do you think Dumbledore cares about those students under his care?"
She considered his question carefully. Did Dumbledore care at all? No, she supposed he didn't. If Harry Potter, arguably the most important person to the wizarding world at the time, who defeated Lord Voldemort as a mere baby, was placed in an abusive and neglectful home without a care, was anyone anything at all to Dumbledore?
What about Severus Snape, who was bullied as a student consistently by those in Dumbledore's own house, Gryffindor, and was given dangerous, impossible tasks to perform that ended his arguably hard and short life? He was sacrificed, like any other pawn. All those people who followed Dumbledore blindly, were they different from Voldemort's own fanatical following? The members of the Order of the Phoenix were a much less murderous bunch, of course, which made all the difference. But it still didn't sit well with her. McGonagall, even now, was spying for him in her free time.
Just as she didn't trust Dumbledore, he didn't trust her either if he ordered Minerva to spy for him. Consistently using others to fight battles that he, a full-grown, powerful wizard with influence in spades, should have been able to fight on his own.
She could only agree with Voldemort for now. "No. I don't believe so. He may give the impression that he cared, but there's something off about him. However, I've only known him for a short time. He's very wise, but he's never straightforward in his answers."
Voldemort nodded, deep in thought. "Yes, he's always been that way. Suspicious of others and highly cryptic. He's a master of manipulation, didn't you know?"
She smirked at him. "Well, wasn't he your instructor?"
"For transfiguration, yes," he said. The slight tilt to his lips suggested that her cheekiness hadn't crossed a line yet. "Have you altered the DADA curriculum?"
"Yes, not much, however. I started teaching the fourth-year students about the Unforgivable Curses. It's not normally taught until the sixth year. But it is important for students to at least recognize the spells early on."
"So you didn't end up casting it on them like I thought you would?" he deadpanned.
He enjoyed reminding her of the times he bested her. "I just demonstrated the Imperius and Cruciatus curse on a few magical creatures, that's all," she said, tensing. She still hated the idea of casting those curses on innocent, hapless creatures, but she couldn't deny that imposter Moody's method of teaching wasn't effective.
Voldemort, however, was an observant wizard. "You and your pathetically soft heart. You're not even casting the Killing curse," he mused.
"They're only in their fourth year. I considered having the older students practice the Imperius curse on each other to learn to recognize the effects. It may help them build resistance to the spell, should they ever be a victim of it. But I'm pretty sure that would earn me a trip straight to the Headmaster's office, out of Hogwarts, and into Azkaban swiftly if I attempted that." Hermione could only give him what she thought he wanted to hear.
"Yes, I'm sure Dumbledore would enjoy that," he said. "Future generations being proficient at casting the Imperius Curse is not something he would ever allow in his new society. It's fine, I don't expect you to overhaul the entire DADA course weeks into the new school year."
"Thank you, I don't exactly look forward to losing my only home and source of employment just yet. I would become completely useless to you and that would be counterproductive to your goals," she said.
Voldemort stood up and summoned his wand into his hand. "Let us begin our lesson for today, then. Last time we discussed a few spells that dealt with perception, today we'll discuss chronomancy spells, which manipulate the local perception of both space and time during a duel."
"This is one of the most fascinating subjects you gave me to study. I've always been very interested in anything that manipulates time, even if it's just the perception of it. Fast versus slow, past versus future."
"What can you tell me about the spell, Tides of Time?" he quizzed.
"Tides of Time is a wave of temporal energy that stops or slows the enemy and damages them. The wave then returns to you, and you gain time and move faster. It's a single spell that both cripples your opponent and enhances your ability to duel more efficiently."
"Correct. Hermione, I know you memorized the incantation. This one has tricky wand movements, however. Allow me to show you?" He stood behind Hermione, towering over her. He lightly rested his hands on her shoulders.
Hermione turned to glance at his face briefly before nodding once quickly.
His arms surrounded her, turning her body into the correct stance. He gently placed his large hand on the back of hers as they gripped her wand together and guided her movements in a complex series of flourishes and flicks.
"I want you to practice the incantation in your head while we work through the movements. Visualize the result. You'll have to really want it for it to work."
Hermione didn't want to disappoint him, but there was just no way she could concentrate on the wand movements he just performed with her. She wished more than anything that she had genuinely liked the men from all those blind dates Ginny and Luna had set up for her. She wished she had properly dated. Perhaps she wouldn't be so out of her depth when an imposing wizard stood so close behind her. He was the enemy, that's all she needed to remember.
But she was nothing but a fledgling, and he had every advantage.
"Do you think you can show me again?" An embarrassed flush spread from her chest to her face.
He sighed indulgently and dropped his left hand down to her hip to hold her still as he repeated the wand movements with her hand.
Her body was pulsing in embarrassment at his proximity. "You're right, this one is a bit tough, maybe we can circle back to it?" she asked as calmly as she could. Perhaps if he just stood back just a tad.
She couldn't help but feel silly as she waited for his inevitable disappointment for failing to learn this spell.
She was too acutely aware of his left hand encircling her hip. Focusing instead on his right hand, she studied it carefully as it engulfed her much smaller one. As if sculpted by the gods, it was beautiful — elegant and masculine. His long and slender fingers wrapped around her own. She admired his clean, well-groomed fingernails. For some reason, she thought Lord Voldemort's nails would be sharp and dirty. She stared at his prominent tendons as he lightly gripped the back of her hand.
He had removed his cloak and rolled his sleeves up earlier. Her gaze trailed up his corded forearm, noting the strong musculature, the thick vascularity, and the attractive dusting of hair.
Voldemort was completely silent as he seemed to notice her inability to focus on the lesson. She then felt him sensually trail his right thumb down to graze the sensitive skin of her wrist.
Her eyes followed his every movement as he encircled her wrist gently and held the pads of his index and middle fingers against her wildly fluttering pulse. Her skin burned against his as she slowly inhaled his scent of warm wood and bergamot.
He turned slightly towards her, eyebrow quirked. He lowered his smiling lips closer to her ear and breathed, "Hermione, are you distracted today?"
It felt like her whole world was on fire.
Shivers broke out across her neck and down her back. Something in his voice made her weak in the knees, and it was just so unfair. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, of course not," she said softly.
She stepped resolutely away from his near half embrace, and pried her wrist out of his light grasp. She turned and tentatively lifted her chin to ask, "Do you know any spells that can make a person disappear quickly? If apparition and disapparition are blocked, that is. More of a trick of the mind rather than actual transportation. I find it would be particularly useful at times."
"Like now, you mean?" Voldemort tilted his head, seemingly amused, as a sardonic smile teased at his lips.
"At any time." She nodded, swallowing lightly. Her tone was casual, dismissive.
"I can show you an invisibility spell that cloaks you, so thoroughly you wouldn't be able to see even a shimmer of magic if you looked at your hand. But it goes away the moment you cast another spell. There's also Blink, which allows you to disappear and then reappear quickly a very short distance away, usually behind the enemy. It's less of a transportation spell, and more of a short manipulation of one's perception."
"So this can be used in an anti-apparition zone like Hogwarts then?
"Yes, but don't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret. It's for stealth and the element of surprise, rather than for actual transportation."
"Perfect. You should have started our first lesson with that spell if you wanted me to sneak around Hogwarts successfully."
For the next hour, he went through several spells that were much simpler than Tides of Time successfully with her, and they ended their lesson resting on the couch.
"I thought we were going for a run again today, but it seemed like we didn't have to. Those spells were physically exhausting enough," she panted.
He stood up and reached into the bag a few feet away from them and pulled out a few books. "Here are books on the basics of physical self-defense and a brief introduction of martial arts moves you should know. We won't spend much time on it. No more than one or two lessons." He handed her a small stack of books before taking out a much older, fragile book. "Here is the grimoire for the spell I used for your happy memory during our last lesson. You are welcome to read and study it." He offered it to her. "Practice."
She took the delicate book from him. "How do I practice mind magic on my own?"
"That's your problem. I just provide you with the tools for success. Another thing to keep in mind — the most useful emotion you could weaponize is fear, Hermione. I think you understand fear better than most — when Grindelwald's supporters took your parents' lives, and I'm sure you've seen a lot as an Auror as well."
Fury crawled under her skin, as she remembered exactly who instilled all the fear she had been forced to experience in her life, and she flew to her feet as she stared up into his menacing red eyes.
Through clenched teeth, she said, "You have no idea what fear is. I've lived it."
"Again, so presumptuous, Hermione. I did know fear, and I've taken many steps to ensure that I never need to feel it again."
She knew what he'd done. She also knew what needed to be done, and she was the only one who could do it, during this time period.
With his face tilted imperiously over hers, his eyes bore down on her. "Do not underestimate the satisfaction you gain when you use a powerful spell on your opponent. Don't tell me it didn't feel good when you annihilated fifteen enemies when it was just you and your partner, with a single spell." He gave her a secretive smile as his eyes roamed hungrily over her frozen expression. "Imagine their fear, Hermione. Their confusion when the little witch they underestimated made them hurt beyond imagination." His sinful voice washed over her, sparking every nerve ending, validating her deepest fears about herself.
Conflicted, she couldn't meet his eyes. If she did, he would crack her open and feast on her raw.
"Don't worry, Hermione, we both know the truth." His voice was just above a whisper, but it resonated loudly through her being.
A/N: I'd love to hear your thoughts about this chapter! Let me know if you're enjoying the characterizations :)