I do not own the Harry Potter books and/or movies, or anything associated with them.

Thank you all so much for the reviews! You guys really are great! In case you're wondering what's taking me so long to update, my uncle died, and it's hard to get inspired into writing when there's so little other Tom/Hermione stories that update regularly! Without angst, preferably…but I will go on!

Note: Hermione is sixteen, but the other Hermione Granger that is currently attending Beauxbatons is seventeen.

ISAWSOMESHADOWEDFIGURES

Had she seriously taken so long to come out of the water, that everyone had gone? It hardly seemed possible. There was simply no way that everyone would abandon her without checking if she was all right! And everything looked so different…the landscape had changed drastically, and she couldn't recognize much about her surroundings.

Something very large was missing…

Hermione attempted to stand, but found her legs unable to hold her weight. Maybe she had been in too long…she was so adjusted to swimming.

But that was only a small problem that she would consider later. Something was missing, and she needed to figure out what it was to know the complete problem.

The witch sat there for several moments, pondering over the Hogwarts grounds, recounting every moment she had spent there, reliving every time she, Ron, and Harry had gone down to Hagrid's hut –

Bloody hell!

The feeling seemed to return to Hermione's legs, and she ran to where her third home should have been. But she found herself standing on an empty space…no hut, no pumpkin patch…no Hagrid. This could only mean one thing…

He had been sacked!

But no sense came out of this. There was no possible way that Dumbledore would fire his only gamekeeper. They had nothing against each other, and Hagrid hadn't done anything illegal as of late. Nothing could have happened in the span of one hour to completely wipe out a large wooden building and not leave any trace.

Or had the mermaid done some secret enchantment that could wipe out entire buildings in five minutes?

But then there would be students crowded everywhere! If that had actually happened so quickly, Dumbledore wouldn't have had enough time to order the students back into the castle.

But this whole ordeal had to have something to do with the mermaids…it was the only explanation! Maybe the mermaid had done some sort of time charm, and she had been thrown a few hours ahead…yes, that was the only thing that explained it…

She needed to find a student! Any student! A student that could tell her the time…

Turning around, Hermione found herself face to face with a boy. She led out a surprised gasp, but muffled it quickly, a spark of annoyance rising within her. But she needed to know the time…she needed to know if everything was all right…

"Um, excuse my eagerness," she said politely, hoping that, if she didn't get him angry, he would cooperate, "but could you tell me where Hagrid has gone? His hut seems to have vanished, as you can see."

Hermione moved to the side and turned around, indicating to the barren fields in front of her.

"Rubeus Hagrid?" the voice startled her, low and dark, causing her to shiver slightly, "The only Hagrid I know is probably with the Gryffindors, maybe in the common room, and he doesn't own a hut."

With the Gryffindors…? No hut?

Hermione turned around and saw an emotionless face staring back at her. She studied the boy, searching for some sign that he was mocking her…but his crimson eyes and pale face betrayed nothing.

"Could you please tell me the time?" she asked cautiously.

"Nine o'clock."

That didn't sound right. Maybe the mermaids had enough powers to send people days forward…they were mysterious creatures…

"The day?"

"September the second."

Hermione found herself becoming completely confused, and that didn't happen very often (she couldn't deny it). There had to be some reason. There was simply no possible way that mermaids could send people ahead by a year.

"The year?" she asked, hoping that there would be no change.

The boy looked her over with a seemingly lack of expression.

"Nineteen forty-three."

Hermione felt a fleeting moment of panic, but it was quickly replaced by realization, then anger, and she accidentally burst out.

"I haven't done anything to you! Why are you mocking me? Honestly, everyone has been acting so oddly since yesterday! What is wrong with you people? Even if you're in Slytherin," she jabbed her finger at his badge, "it doesn't give you right to pester me so! Just because I've become involved with the plan to take Lord Voldemort down, doesn't mean that –"

"What did you say?" the boy snapped so suddenly that Hermione nearly jumped, but she felt her anger boil over when his words processed.

"What?" she took a step forward, "Voldemort! There! I said it! Can't you all just stop whimpering and say his bloody name!"

But the boy didn't seem to hear her words. Hermione turned to storm off but a hand stopped her.

"Voldemort?" the Slytherin hissed, somewhat confusedly, "How do you know that name?"

Something in his voice made Hermione go cold, and the anger she had felt earlier quickly ebbed away. She turned to look into his eyes, which she found strangely frightening all of a sudden.

"Everyone knows his name." She heard herself whisper, "but could you tell me yours?"

The boy seemed to take care in her question, answering cautiously as though he had a very guilty conscience.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle."

THEYGATHEREDROUNDATREE

Hermione didn't know what she was doing. She felt very strange; like she was standing beside herself, watching things unfold.

"Well, thank you, Tom, for telling me the time."

She walked away stonily, wondering if, by some small chance, the entire school was playing a very cruel joke on her. She was a prefect, for Merlin's sake! How could they do this to her? And how could she not recognize a student's face?

Hermione barely remembered walking into the school, and did not remember skipping the trick step on the way to the Gryffindor common room. The only thing she could completely recall was picking up a stray newspaper just outside of the portrait hole and seeing it dated to 1943.

Her thoughts and movements had reeled on so quickly after that that she wouldn't have been able to admit anything of her walk to the Transfiguration room, even with the help of Veritaserum.

Hermione raised her hand and knocked once on the door. She immediately regretted it, though, as she realized a class would be in session. To her utter dismay, Dumbledore answered the door.

All of her thoughts and fears were confirmed by the length and colour of his beard. But he had dyed and cut it, right? He had used a charm on his wrinkles, right? It was obvious…yes…he liked jokes too!

"Hermione Granger!" he greeted warmly, "I see you've arrived a bit late. No need to worry, though, I assure you! Headmaster Dippet will understand why your arrival has been delayed. He knows it is a long journey from France with the Floo Network out, and you've received such short notice!" – he paused momentarily, but continued on when Hermione remained silent, "I'm in the middle of a class right now, but I will have someone else take over for a moment! I just knew that you hadn't enrolled in Beauxbatons! Someone must have tampered with your owl. Please wait here a moment."

This was a very very cruel prank.

Dumbledore opened the door to the classroom rather widely as he stepped in, and the witch saw thirty unknown faces staring back at her. She turned to look at the surrounding hall, and suddenly noticed how oddly new everything looked. In fact…nothing really looked the same. The hallway was so very oddly decorated, she was surprised she found her way to the Transfiguration room at all.

Hermione heard the door behind her shut, and she turned to see Dumbledore smiling brightly at her.

"Shall we go, then?" he asked.

Hermione nodded mutely, the usual twinkle in his eyes oddly different, somehow.

And suddenly everything felt so heavy, and part of her mind filled with irrational thoughts. Everything was so convincing…

How was she to get back? There was absolutely no way that the mermaid could have pushed her back in time with no way of getting back. Only one curse had ever been known as irreversible: the killing curse.

And that led her thoughts back to Voldemort (her stomach lurched painfully). Had he had some role in this? Was this entire thing his fault? But she couldn't seem to link the name to the scenario. There was absolutely nothing that he could want from sending her back in time. What more could he gain from tricking a mermaid into leading a small, unknown girl into the past which he, himself dwelled?

And the answer was quite obvious: nothing.

"Ah." Dumbledore said quite suddenly, and she found that her feet had stopped moving, "It seems that the Headmaster is currently away. But I'm sure he won't mind if we borrow the Sorting Hat. Oh, speaking of which. Have you taken my advice and read Hogwarts: A History?"

The Dumbledore she knew would never have asked such a stupid question. He knew her.

"Yes, but," her throat constricted a little, "I don't understand."

The future Headmaster turned to face her, a smile still plastered on his face.

"And what do you not understand, if I may ask?"

For a moment, she nearly burst out everything, but she thought that that would be a rather stupid thing to do if this was all indeed a prank, and it would ruin everything if she really was in the year of 1943.

"I was just wondering – er – if my friend, Harry Potter, was here?" she said lamely, trying to feign a look of mixed shrewdness and innocence.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment, before saying, "That name seems unfamiliar to me, but the Headmaster may be able to assist you further."

Hermione doubted this very much, but she felt very eager to meet the man, anyway. If he was here, in this very castle, then she was back in 1943. Chances were, he would be dead her future. And she had seen pictures…she'd read biographies…Hermione would know if this man really was Armando Dippet.

Dumbledore inclined his head towards one of the chairs in the room, and the witch finally noticed that she was in the Headmaster's office. She looked around confusedly, wondering where all of the silver trinkets and gadgets had gone. Of course, those must have been Dumbledore's?

Hermione sat down reluctantly on the chair, and wondered briefly what she should do. The Hat had previously struggled between setting her in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. If she had honestly been sent back forty-nine years, which of these houses would she truly want to be in?

Gryffindor, her mind automatically answered her, and she couldn't help but agree. If she were going to be away from Harry and Ron for a little while, she'd still want to be around people that are at least friendly.

Dumbledore sat the Hat on her head, and she couldn't help but reminisce into her first year, when the Gryffindors hadn't seemed all that friendly. In fact, she hadn't liked any of them until Harry and Ron had saved her from the troll that Professor Quirrel had purposely set loose.

Ravenclaw, then, I see?

And the Hat didn't seem to remember her at all, not even when she recalled the time when it had chosen her to be in Gryffindor.

'No. I want Gryffindor! Put me with the Gryffindors.'

The Hat hesitated momentarily, but seemed to be rather weak-minded that day, bursting out in a lazy, "Gryffindor!" and falling asleep on her head.

Dumbledore removed it and turned brightly to the door at the sound of it being opened.

"Dumbledore?" said a flustered voice, "What are you doing in my office."

"I'm very sorry for the intrusion," the man beside her nodded curtly, "but I didn't think you would be back for a while, and I thought it best to have the Head's room decorated appropriately before Miss Granger settled in."

Hermione looked up slowly and found herself face to face with a complete replica of the Headmaster Dippet from out of the books she had read. Horror-stricken, she let out a gasp of surprise.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" Dippet said distractedly, turning back to Dumbledore quickly when she shook her head, "I thought she was to attend to Beauxbatons."

"It seems, by some strange twist of fate, that my predictions have again been proved correct. Her owl seems to have been tampered with."

Dippet looked grudgingly at the man across from him, then retreated to behind his desk.

"Yes, yes…very well, then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." He said.

But Dumbledore wasn't done.

"And, if it is all right, may Miss Granger take the rest of the day off to settle into her room?"

Dippet sighed and grunted, "Yes, of course…now be off with you…"

Hermione was led out of the doorway and down the rotating steps by Dumbledore. When they had reached the bottom, an oddly familiar badge was handed to her. She gave the future Headmaster a confusing look.

"I don't understand…"

"Oh, yes!" Dumbledore exclaimed, "You must have forgotten during your long journey, but you have been appointed Head Girl!"

Hermione beamed back at him as convincingly as she could, saying, "Oh, no…I simply didn't know what the badge looked like! There were no pictures in Hogwarts: A History."

She realized what she had said only after she said it, and was thoroughly relieved that it had been true. Dumbledore gestured for them to begin walking, and she followed slowly, trying to memorize all of the corridors they were taking.

The walk was rather long, and the witch was convinced that she would never remember the route, unless she had a map with her. But, she'd have to learn, and she wasn't half bad at that. The two of them stopped before a large, stone shield in the wall with the emblem of a lion with a snake as a tail.

"Well, here we are." Dumbledore smiled, "The password is Scottish Handcuffs, but you and the other Head can change it. Your timetable is on your bedside table. And I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye and goodnight, Miss Granger."

Hermione turned to ask who the Head Boy was, but Dumbledore had already gone. She briefly muttered, "Scottish handcuffs," and walked through the hole in the wall that the shield had just sprung aside to reveal.

The first thing the witch noticed was that there were two sets of stairs in the room: one leading up, the other, down. The next thing she realized was that the only colours in the entire room were red silver, and the dark brown of wood where material had not covered. There was a fireplace to the left, where a rather comfortable looking sofa sat in front. To the very right of the room was a table, rectangular and large enough to seat eight people. There was a circular sort of fireplace off to the side of it, but it looked as though it were only for show. To the very far of the room, (in a corner beside the wall of the two bedrooms), was a little area that seemed to be separate from the rest. There was a little square table that could sit four, right in front of a huge window, which took up the entire wall, from ceiling to floor.

Her jaw dropped in awe, and then she realized something that hit her very hard:

This was all very much real.

For a moment, this came as a great shock, but soon an awkward feeling swept over her that she had felt very few times before: assurance. She would be back in a couple of days, and hardly anyone would have noticed a thing…or the school might be in an entire uproar trying to find her……but she would be back soon, and everything would be just fine.

But then another thought hit her…she didn't have any clothes. Panicking, she ran up the right set of stairs and into the room labelled 'Hermione Granger,' feeling very confused at the sight of her trunk beside the silver satin bed…her trunk, not somebody else's. It had everything she had ever owned inside of it, except that…there was a silky cloak draped over everything.

She recognized it right away, but couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. Someone she knew had one just like it…was it Ron…or Neville, maybe?

Feeling very stupid and tired, she headed downstairs into the common room, and lay on the sofa. For a moment, everything was fine, but then she jumped up in alarm and ran back up the stairs into her bedroom…

It was entirely green and silver.

She also noticed a little note next to her timetable on her bedside table.

Reinforce school unity.

Groaning, Hermione glanced over at her timetable. It looked very familiar…in fact; it was exactly like her old one, but with Divination also.

She buried her face in her hands and returned to the sofa downstairs, head whirling in confusion. She was so frustrated…nothing made sense…and there were way…way too many coincidences for her liking.

This had to be a joke…it just had to…

But then the entrance hole slid open, then closed, and Hermione felt a dreadful wave of realization wash over her. She turned to see him, the boy…his one eye covered partially in black-blue hair. He looked to the side slightly and she saw an earring in his ear; saw his crimson eyes scanning the room over…and she knew, just from that expressionless look on that face, that something very very bad was going to happen.

And with a blaze of white hot anger, she watched as those half-lidded eyes in front of her met her own.

I have a few days…and in those few days, I will teach this man what pain really is.

WHEREIWILLONEDAYBE

Thank you all again for the reviews! Oh, and Tom's hair shines blue, that's what I meant!