A/N: I don't own anything but this computer and a little stuffed anime monkey. Please review!!!!!

The distinct scent of disinfectant assailed Hermione's nose as she slowly awoke. Her eyes were half lidded, her brain locked in a proverbial fog, and the feel of stiff linen was beneath her fingertips. Slowly sitting up, she saw that she was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts, the sun slowly setting beside her and the curtains pulled around her small bed. Her book bag was on the small table beside her and sitting in a chair, consumed by the pages of a potions book, was her uncle. His long ebony locks framed his face which was creased in concentration. He sighed heavily, signaling that he was quite bored with his current activity, as he had yet to notice his niece.

"How long have I been here?" Hermione asked, gazing at her uncle as he raised his head from the book.

"All afternoon," he said coolly. "It is almost time for dinner and Poppy has left me to watch over you while she speaks with the headmaster."

"What-"

"-Happened? You touched that plant, went ridged for a period of ten minutes and then promptly collapsed. I was informed soon after you were brought here."

"I…saw things…horrible things…a woman screamed…" Hermione trailed off, her broken sentence becoming mild mutterings.

"I am sorry to say, Miss Granger, that the scream you heard, was your own," said the voice of Albus Dumbledore as he parted the curtain and walked through, followed by Poppy Pomfry.

"W-what?" Hermione stuttered.

"Before you fainted, Miss Granger, you let out quite a frightful cry. Now, if you would be so kind, please tell us what happened," said Dumbledore, taking a seat next to Severus.

Poppy finished her examination and left them alone. The headmaster took out his wand and cast a silencing charm around the area so as not to be overheard. Once finished he focused his attention on Hermione, motioning to her with a nod of his head that she should begin. Hermione stuttered horribly as she recalled the images she had seen. Her voice shook and cracked and every word she spoke brought forth the images for a second time. When she finished, both Dumbledore and Severus were quite worried.

"Those are very distressing images you saw, Miss Granger. However, some will be quite simple to identify," the headmaster explained. "The eyes and the voice you heard were undoubtedly that of the Dark Lord. The Dark Mark was part of an initiation ceremony for a new Death Eater."

"Albus, if I may," Dumbledore nodded. "The snake you saw was most likely the Dark Lord's pet, Nagini. I assume Potter has seen her a number of times." Said Severus.

"Nagini," Hermione murmured.

"It may take some time to identify the other images. For now you must rest here," Dumbledore instructed.

"Headmaster, why did I see such things? Why did I receive images of the Dark Lord?" Hermione asked frantically.

"Miss Granger, as you have learned, Rosa Aetas displays the past, present and future. What you saw may possibly have been the past, when Lord Voldemort first reigned. However, it could have also been the future, now that he has been resurrected. Being his daughter, his only child, his blood, has able you to do what he once did."

"You mean-"

"Yes. Voldemort too used to powers of Rosa Aetas to unlock his own future. This added more fuel to the flame of hatred that already burned brightly within young Tom Riddle. Let us hope, Miss Granger, that you will not succumb to the same fate,"

"O-of course not, headmaster," said Hermione, smiling at him slightly.

"Good night, Miss Granger. Rest up,"

With that the charm was removed and the headmaster left the infirmary. Severus watched him go, swallowing the uneasy lump in his throat that had formed since the introduction of the Dark Lord into the conversation. After all, his family was in grave danger, and he would die before he saw any harm come to them.

"Severus, you may leave if you like. Dinner will have started by now," said Poppy as she walked in with a tray of food levitating behind her.

"That's quite alright Poppy. I have no prior engagements. I will stay here while you have your own dinner," said Severus while opening his book once again.

Hermione quietly ate her supper, glancing every-so-often at her uncle whom during the entire meal sat engrossed in his book. Not once did he look up from it and not once did he say anything to her. He remained long after the meal while Poppy worked in her office and it was during that time, when Hermione began to feel quite drowsy, that the creek of the door interrupted the heavy silence that had blanketed the pair. Hermione heard the scuffle of feet as they moved across the stone floor and immediately assumed that it might be Harry and Ron whom had previously been banned from the infirmary for barging in and angering the matron earlier that day. Slowly the cotton curtain was pulled back and a small boy of eleven moved into view. Tom, who had managed to escape the confines of his dormitory, gave her a small quiet wave as Severus raised his head and glanced over at his nephew.

"It is far past curfew Tom. Might I enquire as to why you are away from Gryffindor Tower?" he said in his usual tone.

"It was the only time I could get away to see 'Mynee. She's the only one in here and someone would have caught me and been suspicious. Everyone else has gone up to bed. Class tomorrow and all," said Tom, smiling at his uncle nervously.

"That was quite clever of you Tom," said Severus, granting the boy a small, almost miniscule smile. "However, you must make this visit a brief one lest a prefect or another professor find you out of bed."

Tom nodded and walked over to Hermione, hopping up onto the bed and smiling at her. Hermione smiled back and hugged her brother, feeling his small arms wrap around her middle. Releasing him, Tom began to inform her of the happenings of the school outside the Hospital Wing.

"Harry and Ron told me what happened. They were really being upset about being kicked out of here, really worried about you too. Everyone's wondering about what you saw. They said it was really scary, because you screamed," Tom trailed off, looking down at the bed and picking at the white sheets. "I was really worried about you,"

"I know," Hermione said her voice small.

"Should we tell mum?" asked Tom, raising his head and looking between his sister and uncle.

"I will write to your mother and inform her of your most recent hyjinks," said Severus, earning a glare from his niece. "I doubt Annelise will be very thrilled to receive word of this."

Both children nodded their heads and resumed the previous silence that had permeated their rather sparse conversation. After a moment or so, Severus instructed Tom that is was time to leave, as Hermione needed her rest. Tom wrapped his arms around his sister once again and walked behind the curtain to wait for his uncle.

"I'm afraid that I must too depart. It is growing quite late and you need your rest. Goodnight, Hermione," said Severus, flashing a swift smile.

"Goodnight, uncle," said Hermione, smiling back.

Once they had left the lights dimmed and Hermione sank back into the pillows. She turned on her side and pulled the blanket up to her chin, closing her eyes tightly. Her only hope was that she would be untroubled by horrible visions, and her only comfort was knowing that they may have been all in the past.

x

Hermione was reluctantly released from the Hospital Wing the following day. She attended classes, meals and remained relatively cheerful in the face of her friends and peers. However, she noticed strange behavior on the part of her professors. They looked at her in a manner that she was unaccustomed to; some with pity, some with confusion, and some with a strange sense of disappointment. Despite the odd behavior of her professors, Hermione found that one stood out from the rest. All save Severus and Dumbledore thought of her as the muggleborn she portrayed, and yet during the lesson of Lavinia O'Riley, Hermione found herself feeling exposed for the person she was.

"Alright class, it has come to my attention that for your entire Hogwarts career you have not managed to hold a single Defense professor for more than a year is that correct?"

Many heads nodded in reply whilst others looked quite bored. After all, every professor began their first day like this.

"Well, as today is your first class, I thought we'd look into something a little different," this perked the interest of many students. "In previous years you have been taught defensive spells, learned the theory behind them, were taught many numerous dark creatures and were even taught and subjected to the unforgivable. While these prepare you for any battle you may come across, especially in these dark times, I find it just as useful to know my enemy."

Every student was craning their heads to listen, intent on finding out exactly what O'Riley was getting at. Some were even shocked that she would openly mention the war, as some were still afraid to mention the state of their world. Hermione, however, shifted nervously in her seat, anxious about what was to come.

"Your enemy, my enemy, our enemy, the enemy of the wizarding world, is a man of unspeakable evil, and as such, most are too frightened to even utter the first syllable of his name. I, however, find that quite foolish, as you all should, and I will not revert to saying You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named just because many of you may flinch," by now many students were turning very pale and had averted their gaze to the floor. "The history of Lord Voldemort is long, dark and a path I urge you all not to follow. Now please open your books to page 94,"

All students did ask such, hands shaking and complexions sickly. Hermione found that her breath had caught in her trout, and upon glancing at Harry and Ron, she found Ron breathing deeply and Harry's fists clenched.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Professor O'Riley read, "was born on April 5, 1926 to Tom and Alice Riddle. Tom did not have an easy childhood, and when he was just a babe he was left at an orphanage after his father's desertion and his mother's death. Tom grew up unloved by those around him and with few parental figures, but at the tender age of eleven, like all magical children, he received his salvation: Hogwarts.

"Tom, already feeling like an outsider for his mixed blood, did not automatically befriend anyone. However, upon being sorted into Slytherin, his cunning and determined nature was reveled and friends were made. These would later become his first followers, the first of many who would bend to his will.

"Being an intelligent boy, Tom was at the top of his class in every subject, and he favored the Dark Arts most of all. It became apparent, within the first few years of his schooling, that Tom had an aptitude and a thirst for the Dark Arts. He was seen devouring many books on the subject and amazed many professors on his knowledge of it. Thus his first four years at Hogwarts passed smoothly and without incident save that of any student.

"In his fifth year, after another tortuous summer at the orphanage, Tom returned to Hogwarts as a house prefect. Tom was thrilled with the coveted position and worked to the best of his ability to maintain the pride and dignity that it offered. However, the year was not to go smoothly. It was during this time that the fabled Chamber of Secrets was opened by the heir of Slytherin and the monster that dwelled within was set loose. After the petrifaction of a few muggleborns, one student, a Miss Myrtle Mason, was tragically killed by the creature. Luckily, shortly thereafter, Tom caught the heir and said student was expelled. While Tom was awarded for his efforts, there seemed to be one whose trust had faltered. Hogwarts' then professor of Transfiguration Albus Dumbledore was said to keep a watchful eye on the boy since the attacks had begun, and had increased his watches even after the culprit was caught. A source was quoted as saying, 'Tom was not a fan of muggleborns. I would even say he hated them…you're not going to print that are you?'

"Despite the faith of those around him, Tom's true Slytherin nature seemed to shine through brighter than most. It was after his fifth year, after the attacks had stopped, that he was spotted entering one of the high level greenhouses on the grounds of the school. Eye witnesses say that they saw a light coming from the greenhouse, like nothing they had ever seen before. It was after that, during his sixth year at school that Tom seemed to change.

"While not openly cruel to anyone, Tom and his friends were reported to threaten and at times physically assault muggleborns of the school away from the public eye. While still respected by his professors, there was a hidden fear amongst the students, a fear that remained until he graduated, top of his class and head boy in 1944.

"Little is known of Tom Riddle during the time after his graduation. Though a brilliant man he faded into obscurity, into the back of everyone's minds. It wasn't until the mid 1960's that dark activity was briefly noted by the Ministry of Magic. It went unnoticed until, a few years later it appeared once more, this time in the form of a murder. A middle aged wizard, whose name will not be disclosed, was found dead in Yorkshire. It was later determined that he had suffered two of the Unforgivable Curses, one which killed him. The Ministry held an investigation, but no evidence was found. No one knew what was about to come.

"Throughout the 1960's and 1970's he had been gathering followers, most of which who were from prominent wizarding families. It was all silent, all low-key, and no one had been prepared for his first major strike. On May 27, 1977, an entire family of wealthy muggles, women, children, parents and grandparents, had been brutally murdered. At first, the Ministry hadn't a clue as to who had committed the most heinous crime. That was, until two things caught their eyes. The first was what we now know as the Dark Mark, looming high in the sky above their home. The second was a note, written on the wall in the blood of the family: Muggles and Mudbloods beware, for thy time is neigh. The Dark Lord cometh, prepare for the end. The Lord Voldemort shall have his way.

"It was at this time that the first war started. The death count of muggleborns rose every month and the fear for our world was in the heart of every witch and wizard. Tom Riddle, the brilliant yet frightening boy from Hogwarts, was now known as Lord Voldemort, killer and Dark Lord of the wizarding world. His reign of terror destroyed many lives, and to this day we are still recovering." Professor O'Riley took a shaky breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose ever so slightly.

"There are many speculations and rumors about what happened during Voldemort's reign," she continued. "Most of which are completely ludicrous. However, some poses something that may have possibly been truth. It has been speculated that Voldemort took a wife, a child bride who was young enough to be his daughter. It was also speculated that the pair had an heir of some sort. Nothing is known. Some say that there was no heir and the child of one of his Death Eaters would take his place upon his death; others that somewhere, a child lives who is the heir to the dark throne.

"The reign of the Dark Lord, though terrible, was thankfully, a brief one. On October 31, 1981, Lord Voldemort met his downfall in young Harry Potter, who was but then an infant. Voldemort went to Godric's Hallow that evening with the intent to murder the Potter family; however, he only managed to kill two of the three residence of the home. James and Lily Potter were killed shortly before the Dark Lord's wand turned on young Harry. Somehow the Killing Curse which had put an end to his parent's lives had no effect upon Harry; rather it rebounded and killed the Dark Lord himself. Harry was left with nothing but a lightning bolt shaped scar, and there was no trace of the Dark Lord.

"After his death many of his followers were captured, most of which lie in Azkaban prison. Thus we reach the end of Tom Riddles life, when he was no longer the man he was, but the monster he had so willingly become.

"Abigail Appleby, March 5, 1984."

Professor O'Riley took a deep breath and closed the book shut. The article, for that was what it had been, had deeply shaken not only herself, but the entirety of her class. Many were pale and looked very ill. Some had tears in the corners of their eyes and some girls had the salty liquid streaming down their cheeks. However three particular students caught her gaze. Ron Weasley was so pale that his red hair stood out more so than before and his breath was shallow and horse. Hermione Granger was visibly shaking and looked like she might be sick on the spot. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, who the article had so unabashedly spoken about, was gripping the desktop, his knuckles white. A look of anger was in his eyes and tears were in the corners of the boys eyes. Of all the students, O'Riley saw that these three were affected the most.

"Now," she said her voice soft. "As you can see the article is not as accurate as I would have liked. Tomorrow, we will clear up a few things."

With that the bell chimed, signaling the end of class. Slowly each student stood and left the room, most clutching onto one another. The last to leave were Harry, Ron and Hermione as it had taken much coaxing to get Harry to release his grip on the desk. The trio left the room, walking close to each other, and as they left Lavinia O'Riley saw the boys take Hermione's hands in their own and give it a squeeze. As they left Lavinia walked the short distance to her desk chair and sat down, taking a moment to relax before her next class would grace her with their presence.

x

Hermione sat on one of the numerous arm chairs that littered her common room with a large, dusty tome lying open on her lap. After completing her homework for the evening Hermione found she had little else to do, and as such, burying herself in a novel seemed like the best idea. Having come away from Professor O'Riley's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, though slightly more knowledgeable than before on her father's personal history, one paragraph in the article had startled her beyond her own comprehension.

She knew before hand, as her professor introduced the topic they were to discuss, that it would most likely be about the Dark Lord. After all, what other enemy did the wizarding world unanimously have? She had tried to keep all thoughts of her knew parentage out of her mind. Hermione found that focusing on adjusting to having Severus Snape as an uncle was enough of a task in itself, and so worrying about her father was not something she tended to do. Now being forced to do it, to contemplate the person her father was, made accepting Uncle Severus far easier.

Hermione pulled a throw over her chilled legs and shut her book, glancing at the plate of soda crackers and glass of ginger ale warily. After class had ended and she, Harry and Ron had begun to make their way to the tower to relieve themselves of their book bags, Hermione found herself to become even more nauseated than before and after trying vainly to hold in the contents of her stomach she had promptly ran to the nearest bathroom and retched continuously for five minutes.

It wasn't just that the man she had read about not ten minutes prior was her father, it wasn't that she had helped to defeat or somehow waylay him in some form or another; it was the images Rosa Aetas had shown her. As she listened to her professors clear and calm voice recite from the text Hermione could almost hear his maniacal laugh, could almost see the blood-red eyes in her mind and she swore she could smell the faint coppery tinge of blood. Everything she had seen, heard and smelt suddenly came to her during that class and for a moment she wished she had never left the Hospital Wing.

"Jesus Christ Granger," Draco Malfoy moaned as the bathroom door swung open and Hermione rushed in to empty the sparse contents of her stomach.

It seemed that taking the time to think back on class that day had not been the wisest of moves. "Shut up," said Hermione, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as she retched.

Draco buttoned up his pristine school shirt before walking calmly towards her, his sock-clad feet not making a sound on the marble floor. In one fluid motion he gathered her ginger hair in his hand and held it away from her face as she was sick. Hermione's fingers gripped the toilet paper dispenser on her right and clawed at the tile wall on her left. Tears streamed down her red face and her breathing became heavy and uneven. After a few minutes she ceased her clawing and pressed the small metal lever, flushing the toilet, and set the lid down. With a moan of sadness she sank to the floor and gathered a wad of toilet paper in her hand, whipping her mouth with it. Draco had long since released her hair and was now staring at her, watching her as she sniffled and a tear fell down her pink cheek.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked, not used to seeing someone in this type of distress.

"None of your business Malfoy. Please, just leave me be," Hermione sniffled.

"On the contrary Granger, it is my business. You have barged into the bathroom while I was busy getting dressed, and I am the Head Boy. I have a right to know," he said, arms crossed.

"And I am the Head Girl. I don't have to tell you anything," Hermione said, grabbing more paper.

With an exasperated sigh Draco turned and walked away, leaving Hermione alone on the ground. She whipped her sore eyes and deposited the paper in the toilet bowel. As she sat there, fingering the veins in the marble floor, Hermione assumed that she would be alone for the remainder of the evening. After all, why would Draco Malfoy want to spend anymore time with a retching muggleborn; even if they were partners? To her surprise, however, she heard the same soft footsteps as she had not fifteen minutes prior. Not wanting to look up she traced one of the golden marble veins with her index finger and waited for whoever it was to leave her in tousled peace. A moment later she found herself nose to nose was a Kleenex box.

"Here, use these. Don't go wasting all the toilet paper," came Draco's rather gruff voice from above her.

"Th-thank you," Hermione mumbled and gave him a watery smile.

Draco nodded, and instead of leaving her like she assumed he would, he sat down on the floor in front of her. He watched her as she whipped her eyes and nose and ran a hand through her bushy hair. Hermione set the box aside and looked at him, smiling nervously. The boy in front of her was becoming more on an enigma as time passed, and this made her even more determined to figure him out.

"You don't have to stay here with me you know. I'm sure you have far more pressing things to do than sit here with me and wait until I'm sick again," said Hermione.

"On the contrary, I don't have anything more pressing to do," said Draco, resting his chin on his palm.

"Then why are you here? Why are you sitting with me and where did you get that bruise on your neck?" Hermione asked in one quick, flustered breath.

"I am here because the Head Girl is being sick and there is no one else around. I am sitting with you because my talents in holding hair back may come in handy again later and I do not have a bruise on my neck." Draco answered.

"Malfoy, you have failed to button your shirt fully. I can see the yellow and purple almost clearly," Hermione smirked.

Truthfully she could see it. For all intensive purposes it was healing rather well and had turned from the angry blue and black to a yellow and purple. As she now had a far better view than she had received on the train, Hermione found that said bruise was rather large and had long, thin bruises extending from the main one. As she studied it, Hermione realized that it was a handprint.

"What happened?" she asked her voice soft.

"I don't want to talk about it, especially not with you," he said angrily.

"Malfoy, I am far from stupid. Along your trout is a handprint. Whose is it?" Hermione said, shooting him a slight glare.

"Granger, I do not ask you about your private affairs and I would appreciate it if you would do the same for mine," said Draco.

"Well kill me for caring," Hermione snapped.

"Granger you do not care, you care curious," said Draco, glaring at the girl in front of him.

"So what if I am curious? You're my partner, and though you may be a nasty little git I do care," said Hermione, her cheeks flushing pink with rage.

"I do not need curious little mudbloods worrying about me. There is nothing wrong with me whatsoever," said Draco, turning his gaze away from her.

Hermione sighed and shook her head, her mussed hair flying about her face in a ginger storm. "There is something wrong. Someone is hurting you and you won't let anyone help you. You've never been good at accepting help have you?" she whispered.

"Malfoy's don't accept help. Not for anything," Draco mumbled, casting his silver gaze downward.

"That's your problem then. You have to learn to accept it," Hermione said, her voice still soft.

Slowly Draco raised his gaze and looked her directly in the eye, his once rather sad gaze turning into a dark glare. "You're right Granger, it is my problem. It is mine and mine alone. I will deal with it, no one else," he said, rising from the floor and storming out of the bathroom.

Hermione remained on the cold marble floor, a soft yet sad smile adorning her lips. It seemed that Draco would remain stubborn to the end, not letting anyone or anything get close to him. Hermione stayed like that for quite some time before she slipped into the bath and then retreated to the gentle folds of her bed. Sleep claimed her without protest and she managed to evade any images that Rosa Aetas had given her. There, in sleep, she was untroubled by the woes of the waking world. In sleep, there was no Voldemort, no secrets, no war, no worries or anxieties. In sleep, she was free.

A/N: yes, the ending was slightly corny. What can I say…I'm actually quite surprised I finished this when I did, as right now exams are coming up…Monday actually…and I've been studying like a mad man. Anyway, I know I planned for Hermione to confront Draco a few chapters ago, and I wasn't even going to include it in this one. Ce la vie! Please review and tell me what you think!

Thank yous:

LaLa-the-Panda- thank you!

theguy- thanks!

paprika90- thanks! I hate that bit of Inuyasha too. I mean, do we really need it? If we don't know what happens already, then we will never know.

lestrange24- thanks! I'm flatteredblushes.

Li-chan- sorry I took so long with this…thanks for the review!

natyslacks- thanks!

ProwlingKitKat- thanks! You'll find out soon enough.

ghypscee- thanks!

Cereza- you'll see…thanks!

Tara-Yo- you'll see if she takes the dark mark or not…willingly or no…thanks!

Mikasa Wormhole- no the class didn't see what she saw. If they did…well then the cat's out of the bag…thanks!

Tokyobabe2040- sorry about not updating in so long. Thanks for the review!

Starseay- glad it makes sense. Thanks!

Erised- I'll try and work on their relationship. I tried to sneak in a bit here, as you can see. Most of the beginning of the fic will mostly be Hermione trying to deal with who she really is. She's not supposed to tell her friends, so she has to go it alone. Thanks!

Zvezdana- thanks!

F75- alright then…