A/N: Reviewers:

shadowglove - Of course there's more. Here it is and thanks for the review.

All-American Vampire - (catches flower) Thank you for your review and here's another update... the play is coming, I PROMISE!

Alexanthenle (Owl) - Can I just start calling you Owl? Yes, I think you should write a fic like that. I would be delighted to read it. Thank you for your review, and yes, the play is coming and I'm glad that you like the way I'm writing Hermione. I'm always worried about how I write the characters.

Gaerwen - Yes, that's Hermione for you. She doesn't take crap from anyone, and she definitely won't let you interfere with her learning, that's a big no-no. Thanks for the review, I'm flattered to say the very least. I myself think I'm okay at writing, okay in the sense that I don't make too many BIG mistakes and I try my best... pushing myself more and more with each word I write. Glad you like it.

404 - Updated! It will be updated every Monday and Thursday now. Enjoy and thanks.

(crappy French accent) Now, on with ze reading...

Chapter 8 – Try-Outs Posted

McGonagall sat at her desk, her head in her hands as she recalled her awful mistake.

She had just gotten back from 1956 using the instrument that now sat upon her desk. She had been there watching herself and Dumbledore talking in his office, the Headmaster's office, over tea. He as so young and full of life. She missed that, that light that he brought to the now seemingly sorrowful castle. She even laughed at herself as her younger, nervously stern figure sat there unknowing of whether to laugh about his joke of the three goblins in a bar or seem shocked.

McGonagall fell out of her reverie as she looked up and saw the instrument on her desk. It was the reason that Hermione Granger was no longer with them. If only she had been there. She had just left her office for a moment to go to the restroom and freshen up her tear stained face. Going back in time to see Dumbledore always brought a series of sobs upon her.

She had only wanted to talk to Miss Granger about a Christmas ball. She knew that Dumbledore had intended one for the seventh, sixth, and fifth years, and she intended to carry on his wishes. She was going to put Hermione in charge of setting it up, but now there would be no ball because there was no Head Girl. Hermione Granger was no longer with them.

No longer with them? Did this mean she was dead? 'No' McGonagall told herself firmly as she stood up and walked over to Fawkes's perch.

She was alive. Just lost in time somewhere. She had no reason to worry. The Order was searching for her, using their secret strengths and connections within the Ministry of Magic to search through time for her. But why hadn't anything turned up yet? 'It will take time' she assured herself.

Time.

It was a strange thing, altered by the slightest turn of a head or bat of a lash. Even something so simple as the flutter of a butterfly's wings could alter time. Would Miss Granger be able to keep herself hidden and get back to her own time? 'Of course she would, she's the brightest witch in this school... among the students that is and even brains to rival some teachers!'

McGonagall felt a flutter of pride for her star pupil as she turned back to her desk, her eyes landing upon that fateful object of silver. She knew what she needed to do with it. She needed to store it somewhere safe until they could locate Hermione and send someone back in time long enough to retrieve her. But something inside the Headmistress was reluctant.

'One last trip' McGonagall pleaded with herself as she turned the dial. She would just go back to the night before Dumbledore died, a night where she could actually talk with him instead of watch him. She stopped though as she went to flip a switch. She knew she would end up fighting with herself to tell him not to trust Snape.

"I can't," Minerva sighed as she stopped and grabbed the object. She would just have to take it to the Room of Requirement and store it there.

Finally making up her mind. Minerva shrunk down the instrument and stuck it in her pocket as she left the Headmistress's office. As she left, she failed to notice Dumbledore's proud gaze following her to the door.

Hermione was walking down the seventh floor stairs with Tiffany. They had just gotten out of Divinations, and a dreaded lunch lay ahead for Hermione. She frowned and walked with her head bowed as she realized that things were just getting worse and worse by the minute. Professor Staffer, Hermione's Divination teacher, even made matters seem horrifyingly more terrible as she made a prediction for everyone in the class.

Hermione recalled what hers had been.

"New trials at a new school for a new face," Staffer commented as she turned to Hermione. "My Inner Eye tells me that you have trouble in spades and I'm sorry to tell you that things will only get worse."

Staffer ran her hand over the crystal ball, making the smoke inside swirl and change from a cloudy gray, to lilac purple, to cerulean blue, and finally to emerald green.

"Learn forward and take a peek at your future," Staffer advised. Hermione looked to Tiffany who nodded eagerly. Tiffany had made it clear that she did not believe fully in the art of Divination, but she did find it fun.

So, with a sigh, Hermione had leaned forward and as she did, she saw ebony shine in the glass followed by a pale, handsome face. Tom Riddle. Hermione sat back quickly as he smiled at her and she shivered. Hermione had looked back over her shoulder and saw him staring at her with that same smile.

Hermione shivered again just recalling that chilling look.

"Are you okay, Alice?" Tiffany quizzed as she beamed at her. Hermione knew just why Tiffany was so happy. Her prediction had been much better. Much, much better. Staffer had predicted victory would bring more to her than the thrill of winning, but romance as well.

Tiffany had translated that out to be Staffer saying she would be the cause of Gryffindor winning the first match and Arnold and she would have quite the party afterward.

"I can't wait for the first game," Tiffany giggled as she walked into the Great Hall with Hermione and looked to Arnold. "I can imagine the victory snog no-"

"Who are you snogging now?" Sandie had just appeared behind her and as Hermione turned around to see her, she saw someone else as well. Tom Riddle had entered the Great Hall behind them and was wearing the same, somewhat charming smile.

Hermione quickly turned her head and swallowed hard as she directed her attention fully to biding her new friends good-bye.

"I'll see you two later."

"Where are you going?" Tiffany inquired.

"Down to Slughorn's class so I can make up my work," Hermione replied as she waved over her shoulder and disappeared out of the Great Hall.

From across the hall, Tom Riddle watched as Hermione left. A gleam shone in his eyes, and his lips curl at one corner into a mischievous smirk.

Hermione entered the dungeon room where the Potions class was held to see Eileen Prince already there and working. Eileen glared momentarily at Hermione before returning to her work as Slughorn entered his classroom from his private storage closet.

"Why, hello, Miss Granger," Slughorn boomed as he approached Hermione. "There's a cauldron with the ingredients upon the table waiting for you just up there." Slughorn pointed to a table up front directly in front of his desk and right across from Eileen's table.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione grumbled as she walked up to the front of the classroom and laid her things upon the table.

"I'll be back momentarily ladies," Slughorn informed as he grabbed a pack of letters off his desk. "I have a few letters to send out." Hermione nodded, but Eileen didn't look up as Slughorn left, leaving the door ajar.

Hermione stood there working, she could feel Eileen glaring at her from across the room as she stirred her potion. Hermione heaved a sigh as she realized that with trying to get Tom Riddle to do what she and Dumbledore needed, she didn't need enemies at the moment. So, giving in to her better judgment, Hermione figured she should apologize. 'Whether it was my fault or not' she thought grudgingly.

"Listen Eileen," Hermione started, though not as nicely as she had thought she would have sounded. "I'm sorry and all, but I think this whole being mad at me thing is nonsense. I don't understand it. Why are you upset with me?" Hermione asked.

"Because you were being stupid today when you added something to the potion. Now, I'm stuck here with you when I could be at lunch with my friends," Eileen snapped.

"Yeah, well, I would like to be at lunch too, mind you," Hermione growled. "And I already apologized. What more do you want?"

"So what? You apologized. Big hairy deal... That doesn't fix the potion. If it wasn't for your bloody stupidity I wouldn't be here right now. This is all your fault," Eileen sneered. "And if my grade is lowered, I'm going to curse you back to wherever you came from."

Hermione couldn't believe it. What was this girl's problem?

"All my fault?" Hermione sputtered. "If I remember correctly, you were the one that grabbed my wrist. Which caused me to accidentally shake the bowl and drop a beetle into the potion. So, technically, this is all your fault."

"My fault?" Eileen growled through a clenched jaw. She had her wand in hand and she had stared to glare fiery daggers at Hermione. She was shaking, her dark eyes boring holes into Hermione as her wand began to spark. Suddenly there was a burst of orange light that blew up a bowl of beetles on Hermione's table.

Hermione had stumbled backward, tripping over a chair and firing her own wand as she did. Suddenly, Eileen squealed angrily as she held a hand over her enlarging nose.

Hermione didn't mean to, but she began to laugh. Eileen's nose was already what one would consider large and now it was growing ever larger with each passing minute.

Eileen squealed again like an enraged animal as she pointed her wand at Hermione. Hermione yelped and scrambled under the table as Eileen sent jinxes soaring over at the spot where Hermione had been laying on the floor. Hermione immediately smelled smoke and looked back to see the bottom of her robes on fire.

She stamped them out and sent a blazing stare at Eileen who wasn't done casting curses. Hermione, in defense, rolled out from under the table and sent a Disarming spell at Eileen. Eileen dodged it and sent a Jelly-Legs Jinx at Hermione as she stood up.

The jinx just barely missed grazing Hermione's arm. She had felt the heat from it as heat out of anger rose in her face.

"Honestly," Hermione snorted shrilly. "Will you gro-"

Hermione ducked as Eileen sent yet another spell at her, but this one caught Hermione. Her wand flew upward into the air and went soaring into Eileen's open hand. Hermione, who had been blasted backward from the force of the spell, got up gingerly, rubbing the back of her head which hit Slughorn's desk.

"That was completely uncal-," Hermione had began, but Eileen stopped her.

"Silencio!" Eileen bellowed. The spell hit Hermione and she rocked backward, but kept her balance as she stood there gaping like a fish.

This enraged Hermione. Not only had this girl tried to interfere with Hermione's education, curse her, and taken her wand, but now she silenced her so she couldn't reason with Eileen. With brute instinct, Hermione started to stomp across the room. Starting with slow pounding steps and ending up running in a full charge at Eileen who went to cast a spell, but was too late.

Hermione tackled Eileen, both girls toppling to the floor as the wands flew askew to them. Eileen grasped desperately for one of the wands which was just out of her reach as Hermione grabbed handfuls of Eileen's greasy hair.

Hermione's face was contorted with rage and had she been able to speak, they could have heard her screaming throughout the castle. Eileen on the other hand was yelping and squealing yet again, this time like a scared, frantic piglet.

Suddenly, and much to Hermione's shock, a spell whizzed past her head and Eileen froze. Then, without warning, two arms wrapped around her waist and picked her up off the floor. She didn't struggle as the momentary freezing charm wore off Eileen and she scrambled for the wands.

"Don't move!" commanded a stern and crisp voice. That voice sent shivers over Hermione and made her want to leave the room.

She struggled now to free herself, but it as no use. She was being removed from the classroom as Eileen jumped up and watched with hatred in her eyes.

It wasn't until Hermione was out in the halls of the dungeon that the person carrying her let go. She was partly afraid to turn around and face them because she knew it wasn't Slughorn or Dumbledore. So, with all the bravery she could muster, Hermione swallowed her fear and turned around slowly.

She found herself face-to-face with Tom Riddle. Hermione stepped back as Tom stood there straightening his robes. She bowed her head quickly, unsure whether or not to make eye contact . 'C'mon... make Harry proud and stand up to him' Hermione coached herself.

"I'll be back in a second. I'm going to tell Eileen to clean up her mess and get your things," Tom informed as he turned and entered the Potions classroom once more.

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding since she saw that it was Tom, and she leaned back against the cold, damp stone wall. She looked skyward and took a few deep breathes before closing her eyes and trying to refocus. 'It's just Tom Riddle. He's not Voldemort yet... at least not to the world, maybe to his friends, and he's nothing you can't handle anyway' she told herself as she heard the door of the classroom creak on its rusty hinges.

"Come with me... I'm going to escort you up to your Head of House so that he can take care of punishment," Tom instructed as he handed Hermione her bag and started off down the corridor, her wand still in his hand.

"M-may I have my wand, pl-please?" Hermione asked as steadily as she could. She was not moving from the spot where she was standing until she had her wand safely back into her own hand for protection.

"When we get up to Dumbledore's office, I will more than gladly turn it over," Tom replied curtly. "But until then, I will care for it in the best interest of your safety and well-being."

Hermione doubted very much that Tom was in the least bit worried about her well-being. Though, nonetheless, she made no objections as he turned away from her and started up the hall once more. She took a deep breath and began to follow him at what she though was a safe distance of five feet.

"Hagrid," McGonagall sighed as she stood to leave Hagrid's hut. "Thank you for the tea and uh- cakes." McGonagall looked fearfully at the rock cakes upon the table in the pan. "Will you alert me the moment that Firenze gets back?"

"No need for that," Hagrid boomed as he gestured out the tiny window. Firenze had just come out of the forest's dark, thick trees and was starting across the moonlit grounds.

"Firenze! Firenze!" McGonagall called as she rushed out of Hagrid's house, Fang and Hagrid close behind.

"Headmistress," Firenze acknowledge with a slight incline of his head. Standing there in the darkness silhouetted by white moonlight made him look like a pure figure of power and wisdom. It was almost intimidating.

"Firenze, I need your opinion... the stars' opinion on Miss Granger's disappearance because Sibyll repeated the prophecy that she predicted and she has be in great dis-"

"Wait... you said Trelawney repeated a prophecy to you that she told?" Firenze asked suddenly.

"Y-yes. What's wrong with that?" McGonagall questioned, lost deep in confusion.

"Someone who makes a prophecy will never remember them," Firenze informed. He sounded a bit angered. It was like there was a fire rising from the pit of his stomach to his chest as he stood tall and pushed his shoulders back. "I believe we should pay Professor Trelawney a visit."

"Ah, Tom," Dumbledore said as Riddle knocked and entered Dumbledore's classroom. "What can I- oh. And Miss Granger, too. Now, what can I do for you?"

"I was just bringing this student-," Tom began as he gestured to Hermione.

"Alice," Hermione butted in haughtily.

"Alice," Tom repeated as he shot a scathing look at Hermione before continuing. "I was bringing her to you, Professor, because I caught her fighting with Eileen Prince in Professor Slughorn's classroom while the Professor was away."

"Miss Granger? Is this true?" Dumbledore asked gravely turning to Hermione who bowed her head in shame.

"She- she provoked me, Professor," Hermione said quietly. "She began firing at me with her wand."

Hermione looked up into Dumbledore's eyes which lacked their usual sparkle, but Hermione wasn't paying attention to this. Something she had just said reminded her of yet another problem.

"Which reminds me, Tom," Hermione spat while turning abruptly to him. "Where is my wand?"

"Tom has your wand?" Dumbledore inquired sounding somewhat surprised.

"Yes, in fact, I do," Tom replied. He pulled the wand from his robe pocket and held it firmly in his hand, showing no signs of having any thoughts about returning it to Hermione.

"May I have it...," Hermione hissed, "please?"

Tom looked at her momentarily as though measuring her; sizing her up to see how much she could be capable of if he wouldn't give it back. But after a moment's hesitation, Tom handed Hermione her wand and nodded curtly though with a slight cockiness.

"I'll be leaving now," Tom announced as he turned back to Dumbledore.

"Very well then, Tom," Dumbledore nodded as he watched Riddle turn and start out of the classroom. "Oh, Tom! I wonder if you could do me a favor?"

It wasn't visible, but the look on Tom's face showed pure loathing.

"Yes, Professor?" Tom responded as he turned around while just reaching the door.

Dumbledore came walking across the classroom with a stack of papers in hand. He handed them to Riddle who looked down at them and read their bold, shimmering gold letters: The Phantom of the Opera! Read the first line and below this was a smaller font which read: Try-Outs will be held November 1st.

Riddle looked up at Dumbledore before looking back down at the paper and continuing to read. Every student is eligible to apply for a part. And for those who don't desire an acting part in the play, there will be stage-hands and cast helpers. Please come to the try-outs which will be held in the Great Hall on Saturday November 1st just after breakfast.

"A play?" Tom inquired.

"Yes. Now, will you be so kind as to post those around the school? Make sure those six bigger ones are placed on the doors to the Great Hall, and one in each common room on the bulletin boards."

"Certainly," Tom obliged as he nodded and left the room.

"Now, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said cheerfully while turning to face her. "I believe we have some things to discuss."