A/N: Well here it is, the chapter you've all been waiting for! It's not all that long, but it's cool. It's worth it. And I still want to get to 200 reviews before I finish. I've only got one chapter and an epilogue after this. I know! It's gone so fast! -Tear-

Disclaimer: Tom: What's up with Rosier lately? He's up to something!

Kristyn: -Looks at Hermione-

Hermione: I don't know.

Kristyn: Well actually-

Hermione: Tom, why don't we go back to your dorm?

Tom: -Raises eyebrow-

So anyway, I don't own Harry Potter.

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Chapter 14: A Return

The big oak tree by the lake swayed gently from side to side in the light winter breeze over hr heads of the students settled underneath it. Perry lent back against Gabriel, pulling his cloak so that it kept her warm too. Next to them on the blanket they had charmed to stay dry was Kristyn, who was helping her boyfriend Kyle cut off bent twigs from his broomstick. Hermione sat across from the two couples on her own, getting to know more about the two boys as they argued about whether the Chudly Cannons were starting a losing streak. Kyle reminded her of Ron. He was warm, funny, and just a little slow, but very protective of Kristyn. In short, it reminded her of herself and Ron, but Kristyn loved Kyle, even if she didn't know it yet. And Gabriel was like Harry, poised and well mannered, however sullen. She had no doubt he had seen terrible things, he had been forced to murder the parents of his girlfriend for bloody sake, and he had the same aura of pain as Harry. The two boys were emotionally scarred, though neither had mentioned it. Just as Harry had, Gabriel soothed his own mind by doting on Perry. This whole situation was eerily familiar.

She felt like a fifth wheel. She had popped in out of nowhere, as people kept saying, and this foursome had welcomed her into their clique, but it didn't feel like she belonged. She was meant to be with Harry and Ron, 60 years from now. With a pang she realized Tom would feel this way, if he were to return with her. Picking at a thread from the blanket underneath her, she wished Tom had been in Ravenclaw. It would make it all so much easier. Of course, if he weren't in Slytherin, he wouldn't be the Tom that she loved.

"You okay there, Hermione?" asked Kyle. They were all staring at her. With a jolt she realized that she had been staring out into space for at least ten minutes. "You looked a hundred miles way there."

More like a hundred years, she thought, shivering as the sun began to set.

"I'm fine." Kyle nodded, but the girls looked at her skeptically. "You know, I'm gonna go for a walk," she said, standing up. The gang nodded and Hermione pulled her car coat closer around her and stepped off the blanket, regretting the loss of warmth.

"Watch out for things that go bump in the night," Kristyn advised with a blank face. The other three laughed, but Hermione and Kristyn didn't. She nodded and gave a final wave before turning to walk away. They both knew what she meant: Rosier.

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Night had fallen as Hermione strolled along the edge of the forbidden forest. With her wand lit to guide her steps, she was not afraid of the dark scenery. She had been in the forest on several occasions, and although she knew of its dangers, it no longer scared her. The familiarity and sense of detachment she always felt when she walked along the row of trees was soothing and let her think. Then again, the more she thought, the more she wanted to clear her mind. She wondered where one could buy a pensive.

If she were to go back, it would have to be soon. Her new friends would be harder to leave behind if she stayed any longer. She needed to talk to Dumbledore, he would advise her. They would need his help if they were going to try and fit in, a few people would surely remember Tom, even if they wouldn't miss him. The head boy couldn't just disappear in the middle of the year without a trace, only to reappear 50 years later, not a day older than when he left. At least they wouldn't have to worry about Voldemort.

Things would be so different with You-Know-Who gone. Harry wouldn't have his scar, Sirius would still live to embarrass her, and Lily and James would be parents to their son. What would happen to Wormtail? Would he still be a darkness follower if he had no one to follow? Where would Lucius Malfoy be and would she still have to deal with little "Master Draco?" She would get to see her parents again, and the Weasleys. Of course Remus would be alive and maybe not even a werewolf, depending on whether Fenir Greyback was working with Voldemort.

Hermione hummed a little tune quietly under her breath, while turning around a corner to avoid the Whomping Willow. With a start she realized the villainous tree had yet to be planted, but she continued on her way down through the trees into the forest, heading toward the small pool where Harry had defeated the dementors. It was so quiet, and the water so still. She sat down on the pebbled ground, wondering if her friends would even be the same when she returned. She was so lost in thought that she jumped a foot when a terror inducing voice whispered in her ear,

"Is Mrs. Riddle afraid of the dark?" She leapt to her feet in alarm and whirled around to see her current least favorite person, Rosier. His leering grin was in place, his wand extended. He walked slowly forward as she backed up into a tree. Within milliseconds she had her wand pointed at him, but he flicked his own and hers clattered to the ground by his feet. "I guess so," he observed as his black cloak hung to his feet. "And where is your half-blood boyfriend to protect you?" This was getting aggravating.

"What the hell do you want, Rosier," she asked, a hint of fear creeping into her voice. She could defend herself, but Rosier learned from his mistakes and without her wand, she proved quite useless.

"I want to know why Riddle's throwing his life away for you. It's not that you're pretty." He was only 2 feet away, but she couldn't run. It felt like her legs were nailed to the ground. Rosier extended a hand and traced the outline of her face. She flinched as his finger grazed her cheek.

Damn it Granger, you've faced Voldemort and you freeze now? Her Malfoy conscience yelled. Damn it, where was Tom?

"Not that it matters much longer. Soon you'll be gone and Riddle will join you soon after. Lord Soirer will rise above all." She would have laughed at his pathetic name, but she was scared out of her mind. "Chin up Mudblood, die with pride," he told her as he nudged his wand against her breastbone. "Say goodbye."

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Something wasn't right, Tom could feel it. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut as he skimmed a book on DADA at a table in the library, but it didn't go away. He pushed back his hair with his palm as his heart rate quickened.

Hermione's safe, she's with Minella and Hansen, he told himself, struggling to concentrate, but he could almost hear her yelling for him to save her. Stop it, you're imagining it. But even so, a scream filled his mind. This was insane. He could go check on her right? She was his fiancé; they couldn't chide him for double-checking.

So he snapped his book shut and left the library, heading toward the grounds. The group had gone out for a picnic or something equally juvenile, so he went in that direction, quickening his pace as he realized that Rosier hadn't been at dinner. Had he done something?

The winter air bit at the side of his simple uniform robe as he scanned the dark horizon for the giant halo of Hermione's hair. A dim glow was coming from the oak tree by the lake, but he only saw four profiles. Down right scared, he ran in that direction. The four teenagers looked up curiously as he stopped in front of them, trying to hide his lack of breath.

"Have you –pant- seen –pant- Hermione?" he asked as Kyle glared at him openly.

"She went that direction," Hansen answered, pointing to the forbidden forest. He nodded. "I'd find her before someone else does." His face paled as she confirmed his suspicions. Tom broke off into a run.

"That was strange," Gabriel observed. "Riddle never runs."

"Well Riddle never proposed before either," added Kyle.

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Tom skulked through the trees as quietly as he could. She was here, he could feel it. There was no light other than from the moon and though he was by far not afraid of the dark, it in no way comforted him. She was unhurt, but frightened. He needed to hurry up. There was a clearing ahead, perhaps she was there?

He pressed his back to a tree and crept slowly around, careful so he was not seen. Yes there she was, looking brave, though he could feel her terror. And who was that, touching her face? He couldn't tell, the figure had his hood up. But wait, he was talking.

"Lord Soirer will rise above all." Soirer… Yes, that was Rosier, threatening his fiancé! "Chin up mudblood, die with pride." He pressed his wand just below her neck. That was it; this game had gone far enough. Tom stepped out from the shadows, fuming at the treatment of Hermione. "Say goodbye."

"Good afternoon, Rosier," Tom drawled in his dark voice that he reserved only for his death eaters. Rosier froze, busted. Hermione had never looked so relieved to see him. "May I ask what you're doing with my fiancé?" Rosier slowly turned, still grinning, with his want still aimed. Tom had his own wand pointed at the boy, his hand steady.

"Drop your wand or she dies, Riddle," he announced, his voice also silky and frighteningly honest. Tom didn't move, and Hermione tried to convey her thoughts to him.

Don't drop it. No, don't let go!

"You wouldn't have the guts to kill someone, Rosier. You know you wouldn't be able to even say the incantation." But Rosier just continued leering.

"Try me Riddle." Tom grudgingly had to admit, it was better to be safe than sorry. If Hermione were ever hurt on his watch, he would never forgive himself. Reluctantly, he let his wand drop to the snow below him.

"No Tom!" Hermione yelled, but Rosier pulled his wand away as promised and let it hang at his side. Instantly, she ran over to Tom and cowered behind him, grasping his hand in her own like it was the only line connecting her to a space shuttle.

"Funny, I thought you always said that love was a weakness," Rosier observed in a very Luna-like tone. Tom made a move to fetch his wand, but Rosier pointed his own and accioed the wood to him. Both Tom and Hermione's were slipped into his pocket.

"You're wrong, love is a strength," Tom countered, moving just in front of Hermione protectively.

"Look where it got you. Pretending to be someone you're not must be a wonderful experience. You can't hide it Riddle, you're still Lord Voldemort." He raised his wand again.

"I'm not Voldemort anymore and I never will be." Rosier scoffed.

"Whatever you say, you know once she's dead you'll relapse. She's the only thing keeping you from the Slytherin common room." Tom gulped. It wasn't true. He wouldn't. He had promised he wouldn't!

"Why are you doing this, Rosier?"

"Because I'm not letting my chance for power slide because of some mudblood!"

"Watch your mouth! My father was a muggle!" Shit, they're both losing their tempers, Hermione realized as Tom's hold on her hand tightened. This is not good!

"You mean the one who abandoned you? Ack, screw this! Let me just kill the girl and we can forget this past week. Move aside." Tom didn't move.

"No!"

"Move!"

"Make me!"

"Fine! Avada Kedavra!" Hermione froze as a green light filled the clearing. It was over and Rosier cackled as Tom fell backwards onto Hermione. She couldn't even scream as he slid down onto the ground to lie on his back with his eyes closed. No, she though as she sunk onto her knees beside him. No, he can't be dead, he's Voldemort! He can't die! He's not human! But Tom was human, he was just a boy.

"Are you happy now, mudblood? I just destroyed my last chance for power because of you! Well, your time is up. I suppose you'll be seeing Riddle again soon, I wouldn't know. I have never dies."

No, he can't be gone! This is Tom! What have I done? Rosier was looking down at her, his wand pointed to her temple. She didn't even care. If Tom was gone, she was too.

"Avada Kedavra." The pain was unbearable, and she fell backward. Her head felt like it was splitting open, and she heard screaming, though it wasn't her own. Why wouldn't it end? She curled up into the fetal position, her bones rattling with the agonizing ache. It was worse than Crucio, worse than death. She couldn't breathe. Why wasn't she just dying?

But then it was over and the clearing was bathed in silence. She took several racking breaths, her head still splitting, and tried to sit up. Was she a ghost? But ghosts couldn't breathe. Hermione forced her eyes to open, but immediately wished she hadn't. Rosier lay dead next to Tom. Tom's lips were turning blue. This wasn't real, it couldn't be. She yanked her Timeturner out from under her coat and frantically wound the hourglass forward. No. She couldn't take this anymore. She was going home.

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A/N: Hating me yet? You should. But don't give up hope. It gets better. Really. Trust me! The next chapter gets interesting.

Anyway, did you see any quotes or ideas stolen from the Harry Potter books? Like the whole "I have never died thing?" Or any similar situations? Cough HarryLilyVoldy cough. Teaser?

"No, no. Stay down, it will keep your head from hurting," Harry advised. She complied, wondering what he was talking about. He was the one with the scar.

Mwaha, she goes back to the present. –Giggles- Toodles!

Final Word Count: 2479