Chapter 4: Escape Me Never

I was in a stupor. I blinked twice, closed my gaping mouth, and pinched myself. It hurt, too. Definitely not a dream. Oh, how I wanted to run. That's what any sensible person would do when confronted by Voldemort. Or his seventeen-year-old self, anyway. But let me tell you, it's impossible to run when there's no blood circulating through the veins in your legs. Or your whole body, for that matter.

I gasped for air (I had forgotten to breathe) and finally the blood came rushing back into my legs and I managed to take a few steps back. The murderer was looking a little confused by my sudden reaction. I continued to stumble backwards. Right onto the stairs. I fell down a few steps before I managed to right myself by grabbing the handrail.

Tom started to come toward me as I lost my balance, but he didn't make it to me before the staircase started to move. That's when I came to my senses. I smirked at him, very un-Hermione like, and waved goodbye to him. He looked angry. Very angry.

"Granger! If you move one inch from that spot, you'll regret it!" He called out as he ran toward the receiving staircase.

"Threatening new students, Riddle? What would the headmaster say?" I taunted. Oh no. My wits had returned. What on earth possessed me to say that to Voldemort?

Oh well. He'll get over it.

I hope.

I waved at him one last time and ran down the staircase I was standing on.

Maybe, if I stayed in the Forbidden Forest, no one would see me. Wait, Hagrid was here around this time, wasn't he? Was he expelled yet? I sure hope so. I mean, I'm not glad that he was expelled, but I'd really rather not be here while a basilisk runs rampant around the school, guided by a mentally unstable teenager. Again. Wow. After living in a place like Hogwarts, how could you feel safe anywhere else? Then an idea struck me. A very dangerous, stupid, ridiculous…brilliant idea. The Whomping Willow!

I flew through the castle, descending the countless sets of stairs as fast as physically possible. Which was pointless of course. The situation was similar to those in the horror films. I was the victim, running through the sewers or the haunted house, being stalked by the psycho-killer. You know they're going to catch up with you, so why run?

Because it makes the whole thing more interesting. And the main victim normally makes it out alive, no matter how long it takes. Which is normally forever, because all the murderous freaks somehow keeping getting resurrected, coming back for revenge. Which is still the case in my situation.

I was approaching the huge door, my only outlet to freedom, when I heard him running behind me. Blast. I pushed myself to the limit, running as fast as my legs could take. I shoved the doors open as I reached them. Freedom! At last! I sped down the stone steps, turning toward the Whomping Willow. Except, there was no Whomping Willow. As I realized this, I tripped over some random plant and stumbled. I landed on my knees and stayed there, breathing heavily, knowing there was no more hope for escape.

I smacked myself on the forehead. Of course there was no Whomping Willow! It was put there for Lupin! He wouldn't be there for another couple of decades. I lay down on my back, staring up at the sky. So I waited for Voldem— er, Tom to turn up. Which he did, like ten seconds later. He came up to my sprawled out form, panting harder than a dehydrated dog. No, not just a dog. A vicious, bloodthirsty rottweiler.

He leaned over me, glaring down at me like he wanted to murder me. Viciously. Like, as I said, a rottweiler. I never really liked that breed.

"You," he panted, "are…a pain…"

I sat up and turned to face him, unconsciously scooting away. I was stilled a little freaked out by the fact that good old Voldy was about a foot away from me. But he hasn't done anything too bad yet. He hasn't become the mass murderer that he would be in about forty years. Maybe I could help him. Steer him toward the path of redemption. No, that won't help. He killed his father soon after he graduated, so he must be pretty far into the dark arts by now. Maybe I could just be his friend.

Haha. Ha. Good one, Hermione.

I had to get myself together, though. He might become suspicious, and then my cover would be blown. He might even torture me into finding out what happens in the future. Who knows? Not me, and I certainly don't want to find out.

I just looked up at him, not speaking while I contemplated my options. Maybe I'd just be civil to him, but not become too close. I wouldn't want to be all chummy with the future dark lord. That's not my style. Yes, I'll just be civil. No need to get on his bad side. I stood up slowly and brushed myself off.

"Erm…I'm sorry. I haven't taken my medication today," I said, making up a random excuse on the spot and slowly backing away from him. "Maybe if I go get it, things will go much smoother. You wouldn't want me to go into one of my episodes. Not a pretty sight, I assure you."

He looked at me blankly, staring into my eyes. It really isn't fair, you know, that such gorgeous eyes are wasted on such a horrendous person. And that hair, too. I'd kill to have such straight, tamable hair. –Sigh- The good guys really do finish last, don't they?

"Nice try, but I'm not buying it, mudblood," He responded maliciously. "Since I've already missed my classes because of your incompetence, we're heading straight down to the Slytherin common room. I'll be waiting for you tomorrow morning to escort you to classes. And I'll be talking to Professor Dumbledore about this issue, since you seem to take on one of your…'episodes'…whenever I suggest going to Dippet."

Hey! I resent tha-- … Wait, how did he know I was muggle-born?

He took several steps toward me, until he was right in my face. Well, his chest was, anyway. He reached out and grabbed a handful of my robes. I jumped slightly, terrified by how close he was. I mean, wouldn't you freak out too if you had an insane mass murderer standing over you and latched onto your robes, looking like he was going to off you at any given moment? I tried really hard not to show my fear. I just glared back up at him as if he were any other prat my age.

"I don't know what you're problem is, Granger, but you need to get yourself under control. I can't risk my reputation by having to lead around a short, stubborn little mudblood to all my classes," He told me threateningly, looking down at me sharply. That must kill his neck. And then it occurred to me again.

"What makes you think I'm muggle-born?" I questioned, removing his hands roughly from my robes.

I thought for a second he might smile, but it was only a smirk twisting onto his lips. Sweet guy. Really.

"I can read you like a book, Granger," was all he said in reply. "Now, do I need to take you by force, or will you come quietly?

I paused for a second, wondering what I should do. It wouldn't do to try and run again. There was nowhere to hide. If I just gave in and tried to lead a normal life, as if I was back in my own time, things would go much smoother. I wouldn't be able to make too many friends in this time, obviously, because then I would have to create a whole new story about my background. What if I mis-told my story to someone, and they talked to another person, and then soon people would become suspicious? Oh, how confusing life can be. Well, mostly because I am fifty years away from where I'm supposed to be, but life is confusing all the same.

It's like an insane science fiction novel, actually. Maybe someday someone will write a book about this. Perhaps I can write it. Yes, a long, hilarious book that explains my trip to the past. I'd end up in the papers alongside Harry, people jesting about my trip to the permanent residence ward at St. Mungo's. Or, replace his spot in the papers from fifth year, anyways. I should start writing this in a diary. No, someone might find it. Like Tom. No, he already said he could read me like a book. Why would he need to read my diary?

Wait. How can he read me like a book? He's a liar. It was just a lucky guess. He-- Oh, no. Why didn't I think of it before?

Legilimency.

He can find out my whole life history, just by looking into my eyes! This thought startled me out of my daze. I jumped at him and mimicked his action of grabbing my robes. I pulled him down and looked at his nose, terror and realization probably flying through my eyes at the moment. Oh, yes, and anger. Lots of anger.

"How much do you know!" I hissed at him. His eyes widened slightly in confusion. This just made me angrier. I shook him a little by the fabric that was clenched in my hand. "I know you're a legilimens. How much do you know?"

That's when understanding dawned on his face. That look quickly molded into confusion again, however. Then anger flashed through his eyes. Oh, wait. Focus on his nose, Hermione, not his eyes. He shoved me away from him brutally, dusting off his robes as if I had infected him with something. Then he straightened himself up, standing at his full height.

"You meddle in things that you shouldn't be concerned with. I know nothing, except that you are a mudblood. And, really, that's all that matters," he declared, his voice tinged with resentment. As if I haven't heard that enough times. The first part by Hagrid, the last by Malfoy. Times really don't change, do they? I was glad, however, that he didn't know anything. Or so he says. He did have a strange glint in his eye…

"So sorry, Riddle. I'll be sure to tell the next muggle baby that I see not to be magically inclined, because only they can prevent it. Those blasted children. Out of control with the magical ability, the lot of them. Now, let's move on to the common room so I don't have to spend any more time with you than is necessary," I countered sardonically.

And so, he led me down to the common room without another word. A pleasant surprise, certainly. Well, the "without a word" part, anyway. When he spoke to password to the common room and led me in, I was amazed and appalled by it.

It was beautiful, with the green and silver décor brightening the room, a sharp contrast to the prison-grey walls. The armchairs were a rich shade of forest green, with silver throws that looked as if someone had bewitched them into looking like a bottomless pool of shimmering silver paint. There were students lounging about, some napping on the armchairs, others chatting animatedly to their friends, and a few sitting at secluded tables with piles of books and parchment surrounding them, scribbling furiously. Slytherins really weren't all that different from Gryffindors in the ways they behaved. It almost felt like home. Almost.

It was a bit sickening that I was surrounded by so much green. Anything associating with Slytherin doesn't hold too much solace for me. It was awfully cold down there as well. Tom nudged me and pointed toward a staircase.

"That is the girl's dormitory. Your trunk should be there already, next to the bed they added for you. Dinner is almost over, so if you want something to eat we had better go now," he told me.

"I'm not hungry right now," I replied. "I think I'll just go to sleep now."

I walked toward the dormitory, Tom calling after me, "I'll be waiting here tomorrow morning. Don't run off!"

Ha. As if I have a choice. I continued my path toward the dormitory and walked down the steps. I looked at the panels above the doors, labeled by year. I opened the door to the seventh years' room, and looked around for my trunk. The room was fashioned almost identical to the dorms in the Gryffindor tower.

I spotted my trunk at the foot of a bed on the far side of the room. I walked over to it and jumped into the bed, sliding the curtains shut forcefully behind me. I sat there for a bit, wondering what I was going to do until I could find a way to get back. I really should have paid attention to where Tom was leading me as we left the star- spangled corridor. Now I'm in an even deeper pit.

Oh, god, why didn't I just leave Malfoy alone?

(A/N: Well, another chapter done. Hope you guys liked it…New chapter next Sunday or Monday…)

S.halliwell24: Why, thank you! Dumbledore is great when it comes to crazy situations like that. I wonder how he seems to know everything…

Black-Rose23: Don't worry; she's not going anywhere, even if it means she becomes emo-sarcastic Hermione!