Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Harry Potter.
CHAPTER ONE
"Lumos," Hermione muttered as she slowly crept across the vacant library. She squirmed slightly, her eyes immediately darting uneasily at the double doors. Then, for what seemed like the tenth time, she checked to make sure she was completely hidden under the invisibility cloak.
As she ambled past several rows of books, Hermione pleaded silently, "Harry, Harry, please do not notice your cloak is missing."
Normally, Hermione wasn't into midnight wanderings; after all she is the Head Girl. However, tonight, she was in a rather adventurous mood, which was probably why she couldn't sleep. So, after many different and futile tries, she gave up, threw herself agitatedly out of bed and took Harry's cloak that he had left earlier and rather conveniently, in her room.
"I am the Head Girl," She told herself calmly as she consulted her watch. "If I get caught, I'll just say I was making sure no one is out of bed." It was part truth anyways.
Hermione's eager eyes wandered toward the restricted section, her fingers itching to yank a book off the shelves, but she knew it wasn't that simple. Sighing loudly, she ran her fingers absentmindedly across the old spines while wondering what to do.
Hermione stared curiously at the spine of a random book, squinting to see what the title was. After all, if she actually planned to take a book, she might as well choose a good one. Her eyes scanned hastily across the rows, searching for a title that would interest her. After a few minutes, she suddenly heard a movement from the other side of the library. Hermione scowled, pivoting around anxiously, straining to hear who it was.
A small scratching noise came from the corner of the library. After a few seconds, the scratching ceased. Hermione stood still, concentrating.
Meow.
"Ms. Norris!" she muttered underneath her breath.
"Nox," Hermione hurriedly whispered and walked briskly towards the entrance/exit door. However, she came to an immediate halt as she noticed Ms. Norris stalking rather possessively around it.
Hermione groaning inwardly; she had been in the library for only ten minutes and now she must leave. Yet, she quickly dismissed the thought as she heard the shuffling sound of heavier footsteps coming closer.
"What is it my sweet?" A low voice whispered harshly.
Filch.
Alarmed, she quickly ran across the room, past the many tables and unfortunately tripped over the leg of a skew chair and went sprawling onto the rug with a dull thud.
"Who's there?"
"Darn, darn, DARN!" Hermione thought fretfully. She got up and hastily arranged the cloak again. Hermione tried frantically to think of something as he came nearer and nearer to where she was standing.
"I know you are in here. There is no point in hiding. Show yourself!"
Hermione dashed towards the nearest wall, stood as still as she could and tried not to breathe loudly. For a split second she wished she hadn't gone out in the first place. Sides aching, she listened and waited. Finally to her relief, Filch changed directions.
She slowly inched across the wall, praying all the while that Filch and his horrid cat wouldn't hear her movements. She unhurriedly felt the solid wall behind her for a door. Feeling the cold, round surface of a doorknob, she turned it effortlessly, slipping quickly through the door and gently closed it, forgetting that there was supposed to be only one doorway in the library.
:-:-:-:
"Lumos!" she whispered for the second time. She gasped, looking momentarily appalled.
Blackened oak coffee tables lined the sides of a medium-sized room, each covered with statuettes and small, miscellaneous items. Large paintings hung majestically on the walls with eye-catching tapestries of silver and gold lamé. Hermione stood rooted on the ground as she gaped at the decorations in front of her.
She walked cautiously across the ancient room, strangely feeling like she was intruding. Scanning the room, the back wall caught her eye. Three large, oval mirrors hung secluded, almost hidden behind heavy, thick curtains. She peered into the middle one and saw herself glancing curiously back. "What else what it possibly show?" She muttered, giggling softly at her silly thought. She smiled slightly, twirling giddily in front of the large mirror. She was getting more excited at her discovery and eagerly ran to inspect the statues.
Swaiiiittck
She suddenly jumped back with surprise as she felt something crack under her left foot.
"Oh! What is a hand mirror doing on the ground?" Hermione wondered out loud, picking it up tenderly as if it was a child and examined it thoroughly. It was about the size of her palm and adorned with small gold symbols on the back. On the handle there were strange engravings and pictures.
Hermione sighed miserably as she carefully stroked the cracked glass with her fingers. "Luck just isn't on my side today."
She glanced wretchedly into the broken mirror. A few seconds later, a sudden blast of cold air came from behind, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up and her frame to shake. Surprised, she was on the verge of turning when she felt an unexpected, strong push from behind. Screaming in horror, she squeezed her eyes shut, clawing desperately for something to cling to as she felt herself falling.
Voices muttering, delighted laughter and hopeless crying suddenly pounded her ears. The unbearable sounds grew louder as she fell.
Why do I feel like I'm falling slowly?
In the state of complete panic, a sane part of her wondered why she hasn't felt the impact of the ground, wondered why the temperature suddenly rose, wondered why she could not open her eyes.
A pair of hands grabbed her shoulders.
She opened her eyes fearfully to find herself staring into a pair of dark eyes.
"Are you alright?"
Hermione screamed, blinked blearily, feeling dizzy as she trembled nonstop from the scare.
"What? Who is talking to me..." She thought hazily, her heart thumping fast against her chest.
Not waiting for an answer, the person continued curiously, "You must be new girl. My name is Tom Riddle and you are?"