Hours after Hermione's conversation with Headmaster Dippet was concluded, Dumbledore was finally summoned back into the Headmasters Office.
Headmaster Dippet took Dumbledore to the side and the two men conversed in hushed whispers. Hermione could only assumed Dippet was consulting Dumbledore for his opinion on having her start term immediately.
After a few minutes of back and forth, they seemed to come to a mutual agreement regarding their exchange, watching the exchange Hermione couldn't help but think, I am so glad the muffliato charm was invented. It was at times like this that she really began appreciating the smaller things in life.
The two teachers walked forward solemly, Dumbledore seemed to look a litle sour, perhaps he had his suggestion declined. And it was a great comfort to Hermione knowing whatever was going to happen to her- it would be against Dumbledore's personal opinion.
"Miss Granger, seeing as lunch is within an hour, we were hoping you would be able to shift to the Hogwarts dorm immediately? Of course if you require more time it is more than okay," The Headmaster said, his expression somehow nosy just by the look of it.
Hermione nodded, she did want to come back and study at Hogwarts, if it required her to somewhat repeat her sixth year, so be it.
"Allow me to accompany you to your current accommodations, which I believe is at the Leaky Cauldron?" Dumbledore asked, looking down at her. Hermione nodded once again.
Dumbledore glanced down at the Slytherin patch on Hermione's robes and nodded at her, unimpressed.
"Well," Dippet clapped his hands together as the awkward atmosphere settled in, "that settles it. I will ask the Headgirl to give you a tour of the school grounds after lunch." He spoke quite happily, Hermione had a subtle feeling she would be an example of how charitable Headmaster Dippet was. But she was willing to take that.
So Hermione rose from her seat, thanking the Headmaster genuinely.
She really had a lot she needed to re-think. There was much going on around her and she wanted to be prepared for it all.
"Miss Granger, if you will follow me," Dumbledore called from the top of the gargoyle staircase. Hermione hastily walked to Dumbledore's side.
As they made their way down the stairs and out the school, Hermione noted all the vaguely familiar faces. There were quite a few students littering the corridors right now, way less than it would have on a school day, but they were students hanging about nonetheless.
Hermione could vaguely make out the shadows of the future generations faces amongst their grandparents. She felt her chest tighten at the thought of her friends.
As they stepped out into the school yard, Dumbledore spoke solemnly, "Miss Granger, if I may..." he cleared his throat, trailing off quite ominously.
Hermione raised her eyebrows, "yes, Professor?" She egged the man on. Probably being the only thing she had said directly to him all day long.
The pair made their way down the stone path leading to Hogsmeade, the soft crunch of snow providing satisfying asmr. "Is there anything you could tell me in regards to your run?" Hermione's mind went blank. She had told him about the sworn to secrecy thing, but would it count since Dumbledore founded the Order of the Phoenix?
She couldn't lie, Dumbledore would know and if anything it would make him even more weary of her. She breathed in once, then twice, before Dumbledore stuck out his arm for Hermione to take, which she took with ease.
With a pop the pair apparated directly onto the threshold of the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione instantly retracted her arm and turned to face Dumbledore, "I have all my things packed, I will only need a moment." She told the solemn looking man. Dumbledore nodded curtly, before stalking away to greet the barman.
Hermione ran up the stairs, flinging her door open. There were a pile of books on Hermione's dresser, books on time travel. They had not been of much help but they were all from the late 1970's and next to them were Hermione's Gryffindor school robes.
She had them packed with her whilst on the run and had never really discarded them.
With a flick of her wand, Hermione moved the books into her trunk and turned to her robes. "Evanesca," she whispered, watching the fabric burn. With a deep breath, she levitated her trunk behind her and made her way down the staircase where she found Dumbledore gossiping with Tom the barman.
"Professor," Hermione cleared her throat. Dumbledore turned to look at her, immediately losing the familiar twinkle in his eyes. With a flick of his wand, the trunk behind Hermione vanished.
"Well, I must go, Tom. It was good to see you." Dumbledore bade the barman goodbye stoically. Hermione walked a couple of paces slower than Dumbledore, before taking his hand and side-along apparating into Hogsmeade for the second time that day.
The silence between the two felt like a heavy blanket, becoming increasingly awkward because of Hermione's blatant disregard to the Professor's previous question. Hermione chewed on her lowerlip for a moment. "Professor," she began, eyes downcast, "he has got the first piece. The deathstick." Hermione mumbled. It was true for both Grindelwald and Voldemort that they would first retrieve the Elder Wand in their separate attempts to beating death.
For despite Voldemort's ownership of the resurrection stone, he had not quite realised it.
Dumbledore came to an abrupt halt, but did not turn to look at Hermione.
"And do you know?" Dumbledore asked, his voice strained.
Hermione swallowed the knot in her throat, "I know of the greater good." She said, now talking with much more confidence, her voice icy.
Dumbledore nodded, before picking up his pace and speed walking towards the castle, as if to shake Hermione's off.
As they approached the door, instead of Dippet there was another student awaiting the pair.
"Professor," greeted the girl, her long curly brown hair framing her face. She had a circular face and button nose which reminded Hermione of Hannah Abott. Hermione did not miss the Head Girl badge above the Gryffindor insignia that adorned the girls robes.
"Miss Brown," Dumbledore greeted, Hermione's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.
"Headmaster Dippet asked me to tell you to directly join him at the Great Hall." Brown informed the pair. She eyed Hermione with little interest.
The Gryffindor girl, Brown, walked ahead of Dumbledore and Hermione on their way to the Great Hall. Hermione had intentionally started walking slower so as to not accidentally lead the Head Girl and Professor and end up looking like she had a suspicious amount of knowledge of the Hogwarts corridors.
When they had reached the doorway to the Great Hall, Hermione smiled at the familiar sight of the twelve Christmas trees decorating the large room. There were about a dozen students of each house seated at their respective tables. Some tables had more students, some had less.
Headmaster Dippet sat at the very front, in between the other faculty members. As soon as his eyes landed on Hermione, he stood up, a smile gracing his face. Brown took the chance to seat herself at the Gryffindor table with her friends.
The mumbling within the Great Hall quietened, with all eyes trained on Hermione and Dumbledore. Hermione shifted her feet nervously. "Come," Dumbledore instructed, walking up to the teachers table without waiting for Hermione's response. Hermione awkwardly followed behind him, holding her head high so she would not look too intimidated.
As Hermione got up on the raised podium, the hall broke out in whispers. Hermione frowned at the attention, trying to keep track of the presense she felt behind her, for she needed to be vigilant.
"Today, we welcome a new student." Dippet began. "Her story was one of utmost bravery, so we welcome her with open arms into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He smiled. Hermione jutted her lip out disapprovingly, not wanting to be under any kind of spotlight.
"She has been sorted into Slytherin already, and is to start her sixth year at Hogwarts from today onwards. I hope all of you accept her as a friend." He added the last part staring pointedly at those who had begun whispering.
"Hermione," Dippet spoke to her quietly, "feel free to join the Slytherin table on the far left." He pointed towards the table. Hermione mumbled a quick thanks, offering the Headmaster a smile before finding scurrying off to the far left, looking for the least occupied part of the table to sit in.
Not that it was hard, considering there were only six people at the table. Five boys, one girl. Most were too absorbed in their own conversation to spare Hermione a thought or even a greeting, which was fine with her.
After a quick second of thought, Hermione chose to sit at the far end, closest to the door and farthest from other students.
It was not as if she required friendship to pass school, she would manage just fine without affiliating herself with any of the older generations kids, Hermione tried to convince herself.
As the loud chattering subsided to hushed whispers, Dippet waved his hand as food appeared on top of the tables.
Hermione's stomach grumbled at the smell of the greasy fried food, which she helped herself to generously.
Hermione could feel the eyes on her, but stubbornly chose to keep facing downwards. In particular, she felt a pair of eyes stare a hole into the side of her head from the Slytherin table. It took her all her willpower to not throw up as she realised who the strange magic emanated from.
"Hello, I'm Alice Carrow. And you are?" The girl from the Slytherin table came down to greet Hermione. She eyed Hermione disapprovingly, judging her with a displeased tut. She seemed snooty.
Hermione looked up to meet Alice Carrow's eyes. She was a tall, skinny girl, with the same raven hair Hermione recognised from Alecto and Amycus Carrow. Her eyes were just as sharp, but held little to no malice in them, but held no good will either. "I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione spoke, bored.
Carrow raised an eyebrow, "funny, I don't quite recognise the Granger House." She said, exaggerating the name Granger.
Hermione pushed her plate forward, sighing with the realisation that she would perhaps not be allowed to eat peacefully. "That's because the Granger House doesn't exist you stupid bint."
Carrow gasped, "so you're a mudblood?" She spat the word out with ease, making Hermione flinch as she subconsciously itched her right forearm.
Hermione's stomach dropped as she realised she would have to lie about the heritage she was so proud of. "I'm a half-blood," she said sharply, huffing. Carrow looked even further agitated, as if Hermione had somehow physically attacked the girl.
Carrow stood up, hands on the table as if she were about to assault Hermione. "A half-blood in the noble house of Slytherin?" She spat, her eyes glinting dangerously.
Hermione could see the other students beginning to stare.
So she waved her hand at Carrow, hitting her with a nonverbal wandless spell that made her lose footing and fall back into her seat. Hermione inched towards the edge of her seat, glancing to ensure the Professor's were all busy with their own matters, she grabbed Alice Carrow's tie, pulling her closer by it.
With perhaps an inch of distance between the two, Hermione's nose nearly touching Carrow's, Hermione snarled at the Slytherin, "Listen, you daft bitch. We both know well that Slytherin takes half-blood students so if you're going to cry about it, do it somewhere I won't have to see your disgusting face," shoving her back as she finished.
Alice Carrow's eyes widened, in either disgust or fear, as she got off the seat and scrambled towards the other side of the table, where five other boys were seated.
Glad to have lost the only person that was in the way of Hermione and her meal, Hermione dug back into her lunch as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
But as goes with absolutely shite luck, Hermione did not fail to catch the eyes of a certain stormy grey eyed student.
•••
After lunch had ended, as Dippet had mentioned, Brown came by the Slytherin table to give Hermione a tour of the castle. She didn't look particularly happy at being assigned such a task, in fact she did very little to hide her blatant animosity towards Hermione. Why the girl seemed so peeved was beyond Hermione's understanding.
They went around the entire castle before Brown left her in front of the Slytherin dorms, "well, I don't know the Slytherin common rooms password." She had told Hermione with a stoic expression. "Wait here until someone lets you in, or go find a Professor. I'm going back to my dorms."
Which led Hermione to her current state, walking through the once familiar corridors attempting to find Professor Slughorn's office.
"Are you lost?" Piped in a child's voice. Hermione slipped, shaken up from her surprise. She laughed a little, trying to gather herself.
"A little, yeah. I was looking for Professor Slughorn's office." She told the child politely. The boy didn't look older than a second year, at most. He was dressed in Slytherin robes too.
"Oh wow okay, um firstly, Professor Slughorn's office is in the other direction," he pointed towards the far end of the corridor. "Secondly, he left yesterday to collect some important ingredients," Hermione sighed, getting off the ground.
Face heating up at the annoyance she felt for Brown, Hermione sighed and looked at the younger boy, "say, could you tell me the Slytherin common rooms password?" She asked, trying her best to look disinterested.
The child furrowed his brows at her horrible act, "the password is minotaur." He informed her, before running along to the direction of the Slytherin common room.
Hermione turned around and with a sigh, followed the boy. "Thank you," she told him, as they sped to the common room side by side. "I'm Hermione Granger," she smiled at him. It wouldn't hurt to be polite with the children, she assumed.
The boy turned to look at her, "I'm Phineas Black," he mumbled, a light blush dusting his cheeks now.
Sirius' favourite estranged uncle, Hermione recognised. "What year are you in?" She asked, already adoring the child she knew would grow up to be a good person.
"I'm a first year," he smiled awkwardly. "And you are?"
"Oh, I've just begun sixth." Hermione responded warmly, as they reached the common room.
The dungeons were... unfriendly, in Hermione's most gracious choice of words. Something about the place was menacing, whether that be the damp walls, the dimly lit area, or the ridiculously large portrait of a serpent, Hermione did not know.
"Minotaur," Phineas mumbled to the serpent, who with a hiss allowed the pair into a depressing looking common room to match the exterior.
Hermione walked in with bated breath, taking in her surroundings. She was incredibly on edge, and to think she would have to spend a year and half within these unknown grounds where the warmth of her bed lay so close (all the way up the seventh floor on Gryffindor tower).
She had known that the Slytherin common room resided under the lake but the windows that glowed an emerald green was not something Hermione had been expecting. Infront of a huge fireplace were two identical green velvet chaise lounge, opposite to which was a silver armchair. The mantle was made of mahogany wood that complimented the dark hue of the room perfectly, with little silver oddities to match. On either sides of the fireplace a corridor stretched out to, which Hermione assumed was where the dormitories were.
Right infront of where Hermione was a chess table and two other sets of chairs with a coffee table in between to her left. The place looked... expensive. All the woodwork was made of mahogany and all the fabric made of softest looking velvet.
Depressing as the room was, it had a certain charm to it. Thanks to the green flames and the windows glowing green, the entire common room seemed to be basked in a green tinge.
Hermione noted, that aside from her and Phineas, only two other people were in the common room.
One of the boys in the room looked to be about Hermione's age, sitting on the silver couch infront of the fireplace with a book in hand. The boy had wavy hair looking as if he had just run his fingers through them. The boy had high arched eyebrows framing his almond shaped eyes. He was good looking, with a chiselled jaw and sharp nose. He even had perfectly full lips. To compliment it all, the green flames cast a strange tint to his unblemished skin, which enhanced his beauty if anything.
On one of the chess tables sat another boy, with his head down resting on the table. Hermione turned to Phineas once more, "which side is the girls-"
"The left," Phineas said, beaming. Hermione frowned. Now how do I figure out which room is mine? "You know if you don't know about the rooming, Tom there is a prefect and he could help you. I think." Phineas said, adding the second part as more of an afterthought.
Hermione felt a lump in her throat, it may be a possibility that Tom there could be the Slytherin heir, but Hermione really needed to be as inconspicuous as possible to truly shake off any interest a student might have in another. Plus, she knows. Every piece of leverage she could possibly need, she possessed. Thus she inhaled, walking towards the attractive boy in the armchair.
"Hello," Hermione greeted curtly, standing a little bit farther away from him.
He marked the page he was reading gently, before turning to look at her. Hermione was surprised by how startling his stormy grey eyes were. She had assumed they were always red.
"How may I help you?" He asked with a dazzling smile. Hermione felt nervous at the interaction.
"I'm sorry the Head Girl was supposed to show me around but I don't know my way around the dormitory yet," she said. Hermione nearly blushed at how lame she sounded, but being discarded for being insipid was not a totally bad idea either.
"Ah, of course," the handsome boy did not drop his charming smile. Instead, he got up and placed the book on his seat. He prompted her towards the left corridor.
"I was only somewhat informed of this by Headmaster Dippet, but I do know that the seventh year girls dormitories are on the far end to the left," he said, leading her further inside. Hermione followed behind grateful that he could show her. She needed to check in on her belongings and ward them properly.
"I apologise for imposing, again." Hermione mumbled as the boy came to a stop. He waved his hands as a sign of dismissal.
"It ought to be this one, 7D." He said with a welcoming smile.
Hermione noted the way his left cheek would dimple when he smiled, then shook her head to rid herself of the thought.
"Thank you!" She called out as she pushed open the door and headed inside, where true to the boy's (who Hermione was seriously beginning to think was actually Tom Riddle) 'assumption' Hermione found her trunk above the third four poster bed in the room.
Hermione instantly got to warding it, not wanting anyone to mess with her belongings, she had much to lose if anyone ever figured it out. It would also be dangerous seeing as Hermione had things that would prove that she was not from this era.
I've got to be weary of him. Hermione mentally noted. She had some information she needed to piece together from everything that had happened in the day.
As Hermione settled on her bed, legs drawn up to her chin, she closed her eyes.
If I was the one to tell Dumbledore about Grindelwald's search of the Deathly Hallows, does that mean I've been here before? Discomfort settled into the witch as realisation hit her.
If I'm here now, it must mean I have been here before. She concluded, wincing.
If I have been here before, it only means I was of no help to the Order's cause. I was of no help to Harry. Hermione felt tears prickling in her eyes.
'Hermione Granger' had achieved nothing notable in the future. Had Hermione not been able to accomplish anything? Not working in spell creation, no notable work at the ministry, nothing.
Hermione sobbed dryly, I have to find my way back to the future, she consoled herself amidst her own mourning.
She really was tired. So incredibly tired of it all.
The witch curled up into a ball on her bed and let sleep take over her.
•••
Several hours passed before Hermione woke up. The witch's pillow was damp with her tears. She jumped out of bed, so she could freshen up and preferably take a walk before dinner.
She found the bathroom attached to the end of the girls' dormitory prettily easily. One look at her own face and Hermione scowled.
Her face was tear stricken and her hair. It looked as if Hermione had emerged from a war zone, rather than the comfort of her own bed.
The front pieces, which Hermione had impusively cut for curtain bangs just a couple of months prior, were currently sticking in two different directions mid air. The rest of her hair looked as if she had been attacked by her favourite combination, avis oppugno- which roughly translated to "birds, attack".
Luckily a few charms later Hermione's hair begun obeying the laws of gravity and actually remained down.
Washing her face with warm water to refresh her, Hermione changed out of her school uniform and put on a plain pencil skirt paired with a white blouse that she had bought from muggle London. Over her muggle clothes, Hermione put on her Slytherin robes and placed her wand inside the holster on her forearm, heading out the door.
Stomping quite aggressively over the threshold, Hermione caught the eye of a certain Slytherin heir who eyed her with humour. "Did you pick a fight with the flooring?" He jested, chuckling.
Hermione whipped around, frowning, and stopped her attack on the flooring. "Clearly," she scoffed. Tom Riddle kept quiet, eyeing her with a grin blooming on his face.
He got off his seat immediately, book laying there now forgotten, "where are you headed? may I accompany you?" He asked her politely. He did not look like he expected her to refuse.
And Hermione would do just that. She would stubbornly do what he expected so he would see her as just another bland girl and focus on more important things like the latest issue of Cosmopolitan's Dark Arts article.
Hermione smiled sourly, her eye twitching, "of course you may." She said. She sounded, and looked, as if she would rather go swimming with the giant squid, which would not have been wrong.
Riddle's smile only widened at Hermione's obvious discomfort as he stood beside her, "oh, I have not introduced myself, have I? I am Tom Riddle, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He held his hand out to shake.
Hermione looked at it wearily, before taking his hand in her own, "I'm Hermione Granger." She mumbled.
Riddle shook it politely, before leading her out of the common room.
"I am a sixth year too, actually." Riddle informed her. Great, Hermione thought, now I know I will most definately meet Tom Riddle frequently!
Hermione did not honour Riddle with a response, instead choosing to stare at her feet stubbornly as she walked ahead of him.
"You know," Riddle began, picking up his pace to catch up to her. "It is quite funny but I do not recall a Granger family." He took a quick glimpse of Hermione's facial expression before turning back.
Hermione scoffed, "har-har, quite funny that is. That would be the second time I've had to hear that in the past 12 hours alone. I'm sad to inform you that 'Granger House'," Hermione made air quotations with her fingers, "does not exist. I'm a half-blood." She told him coldly.
Riddle raised his hands defensively, "alright calm down, I am a half-blood too, you know. Just asking," he waved away his inquiries.
Hermione's eyes widened at the sudden confession she knew Voldemort to be so mortified of. Riddle noticed the look on Hermione's face and laughed humourlessly, "I know, I only just found out about my heritage a year ago. It's quite alright." He answered as if Hermione was pitying him. Hermione shook her head, waving the thought off.
"How come the other Slytherin students don't treat you like crap? I barely touched one and she looked at me as if I was scum," Hermione snorted in an un-ladylike manner.
Riddle shook silently with laughter, "well, not to brag but I am considered to be stronger than the average wizard." He gloated, totally meaning to brag.
Hermione huffed, "I will have you know that I was actually nicknamed the brightest witch of her age where I come from," she made a hmpf noise, strutting out the gates of Hogwarts onto the plain grounds.
Riddle walked slowly behind her, hands in his pockets, a look of nonchalance set on his face. "I'd like to see that in action then, brightest witch. It would be fun to have some competition." He winked at Hermione, whose face reddened.
Hermione blubbered for a second, before turning to face the direction of the lake settling for silence instead.
Swishing her wand at a nearby rock, Hermione took a seat above it, breathing in the faint smell of salt water.
"A penny for your thoughts?" Riddle broke in, taking a seat on a nearby stone.
Hermione felt a little lost for words, if she were being honest. Tom Riddle was... unexpectedly normal. Hermione turned around to study the boy. He was everything Hermione knew of him to be. Attractive, smart and evil, I guess. Until her eyes fell onto the ring sitting on Voldemort's left index finger. "That's a nice ring," she complimented emptily. It would be what finally brought upon the demise of Voldemort's one true enemy, the only person he had ever truly feared: Albus Dumbledore.
Riddle looked at the ring momentarily, before sliding it off his fingers and holding it up to Hermione. Hermione raised an eyebrow at this, but opened her palm, swallowing hard as Tom Riddle dropped a piece of his soul upon her hand.
"It's a family heirloom," Riddle explained, before an impish grin formed on his face, "I stole it."
The orange rays the sun was casting lit up Riddle's stormy grey eyes beautifully. "Stole it?" Hermione asked quite dumbly.
He was downplaying the event horrifically. He did not "steal" it. He murdered several people for it!
Riddle smiled at her, "amongst other things," he said cheekily. Hermione looked at him aghast. Lord Voldemort is not cheeky!
Hermione looked away from Riddle abruptly, now watching the sun set with him.
"Say, Tom." Hermione broke the silence, clearing her throat. Riddle hummed, "have you ever heard of the tale of the three brothers?" she inquired. Hermione could now feel Riddle's eyes trained on her. She chose to ignore his shameless staring.
"No, I have not." He admitted smoothly.
"Well, would you like me to tell you?" She asked, a small smile on her face. Riddle thought about it for a split second, before nodding.
"There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight — midnight."
Riddle laughed, "I know what twilight is, give me some credit Granger."
Hermione couldn't help the chuckle she let out, "one of my friends' mom used to say midnight. Anyway, the three brothers, travelling along a lonely, winding road at midnight reached a deep treacherous river where anyone who attempted to swim or wade would drown." Riddle listened attentively to Hermione's words.
"Learned in the magical arts, the brothers conjured a bridge with their wands and proceed to cross. Halfway through the bridge, a hooded figure stood before them. The figure was the enraged spirit of Death, cheated of his due. Death cunningly pretended to congratulate them and proceeded to award them with gifts of their own choosing."
"The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. Death granted his wish by fashioning the Elder Wand from a branch of a nearby elder tree standing on the banks of the river. The second brother, an arrogant man, chose to further humiliate death, and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave. Death granted his wish by crafting the Resurrection Stone from a stone picked from the riverbank. The third and youngest brother, who was the most humble and wise, did not trust Death and asked for something to enable him to go forth without Death being able to follow. A reluctant Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own invisibility cloak.
The three brothers took their prizes and soon went on their separate ways." Riddle made a hum-like noise of acknowledgement, his full attention set on Hermione.
"Tell me, what would you have chosen of the three artefacts?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious. Riddle mulled over the question momentarily.
"If I could have any of those, I would pick the cloak." Hermione raised an eyebrow at the answer, "why?" She asked.
Riddle laughed, "that is for me to know. Continue your story."
Hermione's chest ached dully at the interaction, but she continued nonetheless, "The eldest brother travelled to a village where a wizard whom he had quarrelled lived. He sought out a duel and fought the wizard using the wand, instantly killing the latter. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the eldest brother walked to an inn not far from the duelling site and spent the night there. Taken by his conscience and lust of the Elder Wand's power, the eldest brother boasted of this wand gifted by Death and his own invincibility. That very night, a murderous wizard killed the eldest brother. The unknown murderous wizard crept to the inn as the eldest brother slept, drunk from wine. The wizard slit the oldest brother's throat for good measure and stole the wand. That was when Death took the first brother."
Hermione watched Riddle's face closely, "The second brother returned to his home where he lived alone. Turning the stone thrice in his hand the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him, much to his delight. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally, the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, committed suicide by hanging from his house's balcony so as truly to join her. That was when Death took the second brother for his own."
Hermione did not remove her eyes from Riddle's face, who seemed a little unfazed, before Riddle's voice piped up, "if you possessed a resurrection stone, who would you revive, Hermione?" He didn't maintain eye contact with her.
Hermione smiled softly, "I have witnessed too much death, Tom. Perhaps if possible I would like to say goodbye to all of them, one by one." She swallowed.
"Headmaster Dippet told us that you are a war refugee, yeah. Foolish question on my part, I apologise."
Hermione scrunched up her nose, "it's quite alright, I don't mind but I thought he was a nice old man not a tattletale. I was hoping to be the mysterious new student," Hermione jested.
Riddle smiled, still not facing Hermione, "well, don't give up on your story."
Hermione pouted, continuing, "Death searched for the youngest brother as years passed but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age, he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals." She concluded the story, letting out a deep breath.
"What's the moral, Granger?" Riddle finally turned to look at her, a ghost of a smile on his face.
Hermione mulled over it for a minute, "I would tell you, but we should start making our way to dinner." She smiled at the sky, the sun now fully set.