Chapter Ten

Hermione had more than just the horcrux she carried around in her pocket and her independent studies to keep her mind occupied. For weeks she had a new obsession to think about: Draco. After he all but propositioned her, she'd thought about it a lot. Too much. They were both asking for trouble if they weren't more careful.

No one could deny he was attractive. Even when they were younger and she hated the very sight of him, she thought he was handsome. Maybe that fact made his behavior even worse. Monsters were supposed to be hideous, grotesque. It didn't seem right that he could be foul and so good-looking.

He claimed he was only joking, but was that true? What would he have done if she pushed her books away, stood up, and kissed him? She knew there were other witches out there who were prettier than she was, but she'd also seen the way he looked at her when she was naked in The Hog's Head. Clearly he didn't mind the sight. She wondered what he would do if she just walked into his bedroom in the middle of the night and climbed straight into his bed. Would he push her out or welcome her with open arms? No, that was far too bold. She would never get up the nerve to do that.

If she did take him up on his offer, what would it be like? She didn't like to admit it, but she didn't have much experience. Would he be able to tell? She never wanted to make a fool of herself, especially in front of Draco. At some point his opinion of her began to matter.

During fourth year Viktor was a perfect gentleman when they were alone… mostly. He wanted to go much further than she did though he never pressured her or asked her to do anything she wasn't comfortable with.

Cormac was as far from a gentleman as it was possible to be, but she couldn't deny, to herself and only to herself, that she'd enjoyed it sixth year. He annoyed her nearly to tears the night of the Slug Club Christmas party. The other three nights she spent alone with him that year when she was furious with Ron and heartbroken had been surprisingly fun. She never told anyone what they did in the empty classrooms and that one night in the prefect bathroom. It was her dirty, yet quite fun secret.

And Ron… she tried not to think too much about him because she missed him. Not as her boyfriend. Their relationship fizzled out pretty quickly. She missed her friend and she missed Harry too. The thought of never going back to her own time and seeing them again made her unbearably sad. Would it get any better as time went on or would it only get harder?

Perhaps it was only natural for her to want to cling to her past through Draco. He was the only link she had, but she knew it was wrong just to use him for the reminder of what her life once was. Living with him in the past had given her a new respect for Draco even as it became clearer she didn't understand the man at all.

Often her mind drifted to fantasies she would be mortified if anyone else knew about. At least it was a more enjoyable way to get through an awful day at work. What would happen if she met Draco at the front door when he got home and kissed him? Would he push her away or want more? She thought again about how he stared at her when she was naked. What if she answered the door naked?

She couldn't help but chuckle. Clearly she was very lonely. Other than Igor she hadn't made any friends in the past. It was hard when she stuck in that horrible shop she hated so much. None of the customers she helped were desirable friends. Could anyone blame her for being interested in Draco? She didn't have any other options.

What would he do if she waited until one evening when he was showering before bed, as was his habit, and climbed into the tiny shower with him? The gentleman in him would probably try to send him away, but what if she kissed him and refused to leave? He was only human after all. It would be difficult for him to refuse. She felt her cheeks burn at the mental image. Again she chuckled softly.

"Flushed cheeks and a giggle? My, my, whatever are you thinking about, Miss Granger?"

Inwardly she cursed herself for getting too wrapped up in her thoughts. That was dangerous in her present work environment. She was frustrated and had no one to blame but herself. So lost was she in her fantasies she didn't notice the cretin sneak up on her. There wasn't time to cast a distraction spell without him noticing. Not when his chest was pressed against her back.

She felt trapped. It was a slow day in the middle of the week. Draco was at work and Igor was at his potions master's home. They hadn't had a single customer in over an hour and little hope that would soon change. Nearly six months had come and gone with her being diligent about avoiding her lecherous employer. One moment of inattention and she was in serious trouble. It wouldn't take much effort for him to pin her against the shelf they stood in front of.

"Nothing interesting, I assure you. If you'll please excuse me, Mr. Borgin."

His hot breath could be felt outside her ear. She felt her heart-rate increase. Was it too late? Was she already in danger?

"Maybe you should let me be the judge if it's interesting or not."

"Please, Mr. Borgin, I…"

"Or maybe I should tell you what I've been thinking about. I can assure you it's very interesting indeed."

She gasped at the feel of his hands roughly grabbing her hips. Frozen in fear, she wasn't sure what to do or even what she could do.

"Once I realized it was going to take a little more effort to bend you over my desk than usual, I had to get creative. For months now I've been hiding very expensive, very illegal items in your cousin's bedroom. It won't take much effort to have him dragged off to Azkaban. I know all of the right people to ensure that happens."

Borgin was more devious and dangerous than she'd given him credit for. Even more terrified than she'd been only seconds before, she didn't doubt a word he said. He was absolutely the sort of low-life, disgusting pig to pull such a dirty trick to get into a woman's knickers.

"But the good news is that you can stop that from happening at any time. It wouldn't even take much effort on your part either. I get bored of witches so easily that after having your body whenever and however I want for a few weeks, I'll move on. I'll take my stolen merchandise back and it would be like it never happened."

Just the thought of imagining his hands on her bare skin was enough to make Hermione physically ill. She feared she was about to throw up the meager breakfast she'd eaten a few hours earlier. The indignity of it all was getting to her. There was very little protection for someone like her in that world. With no powerful allies, she was at the shopkeeper's mercy. So was Draco. It wasn't fair that Borgin would use him against her, but she couldn't deny it was an effective strategy. She couldn't allow Draco to be arrested for something he didn't do. How could she stop it?

Recognizing that he had her trapped in his web of deceit, Borgin laughed. He removed his right hand from her hip long enough to lock the shop's front door and turn the sign to 'Closed' with a flick of his wand. There would be no one coming to save her from what was going to happen next. No one would save her. She didn't know what to do. In her own time, she wouldn't hesitate to report the odious monster for his behavior. There were laws to protect her. Even if she wasn't best friends with the 'Chosen One', there were plenty of people in powerful places who wouldn't stand for the shopkeeper intimidating and threatening his young employee into a compromising position. Unfortunately, as it stood in that moment, all she had was the power of her own confession. That wasn't worth much. Not even checking her memories with Legilimency or in a pensieve would help. If he had the friends she was certain he did, the truth wouldn't matter.

She wished she had been more careful with her distraction spells. They seemed to be working. Why did she allow herself even a moment of carelessness when she was alone in the shop with the man? Based on the way he had continued to stare at her arse from the first day, it was only ever going to be a matter of time before he tried something. Igor warned her multiple times to watch out. He'd seen a few shopgirls come and go since he'd lived in the basement. Later, when she wasn't in danger, she would have to grant herself some grace for behaving like a normal human being. She was far from perfect. Everyone allowed their minds to wander when they were bored at work. It was hardly a major character flaw or something that should put her in danger. Of course that was assuming she had a normal employer with normal appetites.

"What's it going to be, Miss Granger? Am I to have your cousin arrested or can we come to a much more pleasurable arrangement?"

Could she do it? It was revolting and degrading and made her skin crawl, but what other options did she truly have? Based on what she'd seen in the six months she'd been working in the shop, Borgin had a tendency to hold grudges for a long time. Even if she and Draco ran from London that very moment, he wouldn't give up until one or both of them were in prison. And some of the customers that she'd escorted into the back room for a private conversation with Borgin scared her. Were those some of the friends he claimed to have? She worried that going against his demands would only make her life and Draco's worse.

"Come now, girl. There's no reason we can't both enjoy ourselves."

Borgin's hand slid down the waistband of her skirt. With a purpose and determination, he knew exactly what he was doing. Feeling the cold, clammy hand on her sensitive skin stirred Hermione to action. Instinct took over. No, she wasn't going to allow him to do what he wanted just because she was afraid. Entirely without thinking, she reacted by slamming the back of her head into his nose as hard as she could. The impact made a loud, crunching sound. Ignoring her own pain, she was relieved when Borgin's hand was yanked out of her skirt.

"You, bitch! I'm going to make you pay for that."

Hermione spun around to face her promised attacker. Blood dribbled out of his nose. Borgin covered it with his left hand. She tried not to be even more terrified than she already was when she saw his wand gripped tightly in his right. She'd faced down monsters before.

"I was going to be gentle, but now I think I'll make it hurt. I've always preferred that anyway."

Borgin wasn't expecting her to be able to fight him and win. Most underestimated young witches in both the past and sadly, in the future. She wasn't some innocent weakling. No longer caring about the potential future consequences of her actions, she knew that she had to get away from him as quickly as possible. If he managed to get his hands on her again, she knew she wouldn't like what he did. There was a rage in his eyes that promised her pain on a scale she had never known.

"I thought you were smarter than that, girl. You're going to have to work very hard to make it up to me."

Expecting him to lunge at her, she was ready. The very instant she knew that Borgin was reaching to overpower her, Hermione had a spell on her lips. Maybe he would've been able to block it with a shield charm if he'd had more respect for her as an opponent. Fighting Death Eaters taught her to never underestimate her foes.

"Confringo!"

Used improperly, the blasting spell could be fatal. Hermione didn't want to kill the man. All she wanted to do was prove that she wasn't someone he could easily dismiss. If he saw her as a worthy opponent, maybe he would just let her leave without any further violence. Perhaps it was a naïve hope, but she was running out of options.

But in her own fear and panic, she used too much force. The moment the spell struck Borgin straight in his chest, he was lifted off of his feet and thrown backwards several meters at a high rate of speed. There wasn't even time enough for him to scream when the back of his head smashed into one of the heavy gold statues he and Burke cherished so much. Another sickening crack filled the shop. He landed in a heap on the hard wooden floor. Blood dripped down the statue.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there in horror staring at the man's crumpled body. Afraid to move and acknowledge that she wasn't in the middle of another disturbing nightmare, Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away. When he didn't stir, she feared the worst. After dusting those garish statues over and over again, she knew exactly how heavy they were. Often she needed to use magic just to lift them to dust underneath. Humans were surprisingly fragile creatures for the destruction they were capable of. A pool of blood began to spread out underneath Borgin's head.

Maybe only a minute passed before she knew that she couldn't just keep standing there, but it felt like much longer. If the man needed medical attention and it was discovered she denied it, she would be a lot of trouble. Somehow she didn't think the Room of Requirement sent her back in time just to rot in Azkaban. Imagining being stuck there with the dementors filled her with revulsion. She dropped to her knees next to Borgin's unmoving form. Thanks to her time on the run with Harry and Ron, she knew some basic healing spells that could do until someone more competent was available.

Not even the best Healer from St. Mungo's would've been able to heal the wound that reduced the back of Borgin's head to nothing but bloody mush. There was simply no possible way that anyone could survive that sort of nasty injury. Fearing again that she was about to throw up, Hermione checked the man for any hint of a pulse. Of course she couldn't find one. The man was dead the second his head slammed into the statue. Deep down she already knew that.

Hermione didn't know what to do. There were no witnesses to what happened. No one could verify that she acted in self-defense. Even if she tried to tell the aurors that she cast the spell because he was going to assault her in the worst way imaginable, she didn't think anyone would care. Most just turned their head and looked the other way when it came to sexual harassment. Did she expect anyone to have any sympathy for her? A stunner would've been just as effective at halting any potential undesirable attention. To use a blasting spell meant that she wanted to hurt him. If they checked her wand, which she was sure would happen in any sort of investigation, it would only show that she blasted him.

The possibility that she could go to prison only seemed more likely. Borgin had powerful friends and she was a nobody. If she tried to run, the authorities would come looking for her. Or worse, they'd assume Igor or Draco were involved somehow. She couldn't let either one of them be charged as accessories or accomplices. The laws were unfair. They could all be subjected to torture if she didn't figure out some way to cover it up.

She wondered if she could somehow stage a break-in. Maybe she could cast enough spells to make it look like a robbery gone wrong. She could even injure herself in some way to blame it on the phantom robbers. The thoughts weren't even fully formed before she knew it wouldn't work. No doubt her wand would be checked in that scenario too as would Borgin's. It would be too obvious, especially without any witnesses. Borgin had a reputation for how he treated his shopgirls. She would be the prime suspect. The only possible way she could come out of that horrible situation unscathed was if she managed to destroy the body and all of the evidence.

An idea came to her that was stupid and dangerous, but she knew she had to act quickly. Borgin gave her some time when he closed the shop. That wouldn't last long. Someone was bound to drop by needing something at the worst possible moment. With her luck, it would be one of the powerful friends he liked to boast about.

As fast as she could, Hermione ran up the stairs to the attic flat. She opened her beaded bag and began to summon all of hers and Draco's possessions. Clothing and books and random items they'd purchased over the past half a year hurled through the air to settle into the bag. She ran into Draco's bedroom. There was a loose floorboard where her flatmate had thought he was so clever to hide his money. She would've laughed at his innocence in a less serious moment. Once his savings was in her pocket, she ran through the rest of the flat to make sure she hadn't missed anything. If her plan worked, there would be no opportunity to return.

When she was standing back in the same room with the rapidly cooling body of her former employer, Hermione nearly ran down into the basement to gather up Igor's belongings too. She had to stop herself. It was bad enough that she was going to have to explain to Draco what she did. Involving Igor in it was too much. She could only hope that he would forgive her, assuming he ever learned the truth.

After a final look at Borgin's bloody body, Hermione tossed Tom Riddle's diary on his stomach. She was ready to see the last of that dreadful horcrux. It had been messing with her mind since the first day she moved into the flat upstairs. Would she feel like herself again once it was destroyed? She could only hope. Borgin's wand had thankfully fallen far from the blood. Once she held it in her hand, she remembered the lesson Igor gave her weeks earlier when she asked him about Fiendfyre.

She wasn't sure it would work on her first try. Perhaps because she was so determined in that moment she had enough confidence to make the difficult spell work. With seemingly very little effort, Borgin's body and the damned diary exploded into a burst of flames. Screams erupted from the diary as the horcrux was destroyed. Though it was frightening to stare at the flames, she could feel at once a calm fall over her that she'd been missing.

Borgin's body was nothing but ashes. The diary was harmless. Unfortunately, the Fiendfyre continued to burn. Spreading to the shelves and artifacts all around her, Hermione knew she had to get out of there. It was difficult enough to cast the spell to begin with. Perhaps if she'd been thinking more rationally in the moment before she cast it, she would've seen the very large flaw with her plan. She didn't know how to stop the fire.

With her heart pounding hard enough she could hear it in her own ears, Hermione rushed out the front door of the shop. She could feel the flames licking at her back as she struggled with the lock. Outside in the relatively fresh air of Knockturn Alley, she could take a deep breath. Soon the entire building was on fire. Dragons of flame rose out of the top of the shop. She could see the flaming serpents and chimaeras she'd seen once before in the Room of Requirement. The fire wasn't going to just destroy the evidence of her crime. It was going to destroy everything.

Fiendfyre was impossible to ignore in a busy city. Up and down Knockturn Alley Hermione started to hear screams. A raging fire was frightening enough, but the ones that knew what they were seeing were even more afraid. Several witches and wizards with the calmest heads tried to stop the blaze to no avail. It was too unwieldy. Just like Vincent Crabbe, she'd made an even bigger mess than she intended.

News traveled quickly in their world. It didn't take long for reports of Fiendfyre in the heart of London to reach the ears of the Ministry. A large crowd gathered in front of the burning building. Hermione was able to melt into the background. Still in horror at what she'd done, all she could do was stare at the flames.

Dozens of Ministry officials arrived to try to stop the fire from spreading. It only got worse. She was terrified. What had she done? There was a reason why that spell was so protected. Draco was right not to teach it to her when she asked. Hadn't she already witnessed with her own eyes the destruction it was capable of? Other buildings caught fire. She counted at least six buildings on fire and the conflagration was growing. More people arrived to gawk or help evacuate the other buildings. Some tried to stop the fire.

A wizard in a heavy cloak with the hood up nearly knocked Hermione over when he bumped into her to get closer to the fire. He lifted his wand and a blue streak of light hit the Fiendfyre. At once it began to freeze, turning into ice that cracked and fell to the ground. In just a matter of moments, the fire was under control. With so many people trying to extinguish it, Hermione was sure she was the only person who saw the hooded wizard. There was no doubt in her mind it was his spell that ended it. Clearly he was very powerful. Who was he?

As cheers erupted up and down Knockturn Alley, the wizard's focus remained solely on the smoldering remains of Borgin and Burkes. Wanting to thank the wizard and learn who he was, Hermione stepped closer to ask him how he stopped the fire. She would always be grateful that he was able to save them all from even more destruction and death.

The wizard turned his head as she approached. His hood slipped enough that she was able to see his face. How she managed to keep from gasping out loud she would never know. An older version of the boy from her dreams, his dark brown eyes were full of rage. More afraid than she had ever been, Hermione tried to remain calm. The wizard responsible for so many deaths was close enough to touch.

And Tom Riddle was angry.


Author's Note: Just so we are clear from here on out and there's no confusion in later chapters, I will be following book-canon, NOT movie-canon in regards to Voldemort's horcruxes. (The movies are garbage in my humble opinion and I usually avoid them.) In the books, Voldemort cannot feel when his horcruxes are destroyed. He can in the movies, but that is NOT what is happening here. He heard about the fire like everyone else. He didn't feel his horcrux being destroyed.