Several days had gone by since the start of the new session. Hermione found herself seeking Theodore and Abraxas' company far more often as of late, even dragging them to the library when she wished to complete her homework.
Tom Riddle kept at bay too, he had not approach her even once since the time he asked her to sit with him in their shared ancient runes class. That on its own was enough for Hermione to be fairly content with the life she was currently leading.
She had two great friends, and the worst man she had ever known was staying away from her- as he should.
On the other hand, he did pose as serious competition to her seat as the brightest witch of her age, some fifty years in the future. She enjoyed that bit of interaction, but she enjoyed it only as far as his eyes were not on her, his ears not listening to her, his voice not within earshot to her and his body not in sight of her.
The rivalry only came to a mutual pause for transfiguration classes.
Hermione, who did not follow Riddle's lead whatsoever, had also begun opting out of participation. No longer bothering to write notes. In fact just last week she had submitted nearly 2 centimetres less for her transfiguration assignment. That is correct, 2 centimetres. She did not mean to begin her rebellious phase, but Dumbledore just brought out the worst in her.
But other than that, they shared nearly every class together. Save care of magical creatures, which Riddle did not attend.
Most teachers already adored Tom Riddle. They would alternate between picking him to answer questions and then picking other students. So she always had less chances than him to show off. His assignment submissions were always immaculate too.
So all Hermione had to do was rewrite that adoration. She needed to do better, to be better.
But classes had only just begun, so the workload was slow. And even when he wasn't directly in Hermione's way he still managed to annoy the living hell out of her.
For everytime he was picked over her to answer a question, he would make sure to look her way after receiving house points for his stupidly perfect textbook answer.
They were currently in the potions classroom, located in the natural habitat for Slytherins (the dungeon).
They were sharing the class with Hufflepuffs, a rowdy yet kind bunch. Hermione was looming over her cauldron, exasperation etched onto her face. She furrowed her brows, trying to find something.
For insight, students were brewing the alihotsy draught, paired by Slughorn.
Hermione was paired with a scrawny Hufflepuff girl, Melissa Something. Her friends Abraxas and Theodore were paired together, which she found to be horrible judgement on Slughorn's part.
Theodore was laughing loudy from the table directly behind her, before a loud boom resonated from his table. Hermione risked a glance behind her to check on her friend.
Theodore Nott and Abraxas Malfoy were covered with soot, from the tips of their fair down to the torsos. Their hair was blown upwards in a ridiculous hairdo. Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair, who were grinning like idiots.
Professor Slughorn scurried over to them, "oh my," he said, looking alarmed. He waved his wand to empty the cauldron before turning to Theodore and Abraxas, who were yet to wipe the shit eating grins off their faces.
"Scourgify." He waved his wand once more, shaking his head in disappointment.
Hermione turned back to her own table, she had her own potion to worry about.
Melissa had accidentally put in 3 hairs of unicorn instead of 2 and Hermione did not know how to neutralise its effect.
"Melissa could you at least tell Professor Slughorn what you've done so he can help us?" Hermione snapped, skimming through the instructions at record speed. She did not want her potion to blow up in her face too.
The Hufflepuff girl nodded, tears pooled in her eyes.
Seconds passed and when Hermione looked back up to check, Melissa was no where to be seen. She suspected the girl had just made a run for it. Luckily enough she found what she needed, 1 powdered root of asphodel. She ran towards her ingredients station, bringing out her wand before the fateful BOOM! came from beside her. Hermione felt the soot stick to the side of her face as exasperation turned to anger. Damn that Melissa.
She closed her eyes as Slughorn ran towards her, but not before catching sight of Tom Riddle smirking in her direction. Seriously, fuck Melissa.
Hermione huffed, waiting for Slughorn to clear up her counter before she was allowed to leave for the day with the extra homework put up for those who failed to brew the potion. She quickly grabbed her belongings off the counter, packed her ingredients and left the dungeon. I'm going to kill Melissa, she huffed as she stomped out.
She walked in no particular direction, guilt replacing anger she walked by the library. It had been over a week since she had last worked on her Time Travelling predicament.
Sure, it didn't really matter how long it took her to figure it out, she would always end up in the same time. But she felt it was unfair she was allowed to enjoy this time with these horrible people. The people that had ruined the lives of her loved ones, in the future.
Although she knew she had achieved something good for the future. Hermione had formally complained about Brown to Headmaster Dippet himself yesterday, dragging a few of the Slytherin first and second years with her so they would testify against her. Brown promptly had her Head Girl badge stripped from her. Hermione felt as if her actions entitled her to worse judgement, but she was glad it did not go by unpunished.
Of course the report had technically been an anonymous exchange, but when Brown got through with it she made a personal visit to the Slytherin common room. She had screeched at the portrait and cursed any Slytherin that went in or out the common room for hours. Hermione rolled her eyes, I really should have left her memories.
She found herself back in the Slytherin common room at the end of her walk. She had not really intended to come here, but then again she had no intention of going anywhere. She mumbled, "minotaur," to the portrait, waiting for it to open so she could step into the threshold and wait for her friends to join her. She walked across the long empty room and slid into one of the chairs closest to the fireplace, rubbing her hands together so they would warm up.
While Hermione watched the flames, she could not help the fleeting thought of what her friendship with Abraxas and Theodore would mean for the future. Would they abandon their beliefs? After all the loving things they had told her and accepted her for, was there a chance that they taken on those beliefs later in life?
She had never really studied much into the Malfoy and Nott family history. So she had no definite way of knowing what really became of these two. Though in full honesty, Pureblood heritage never interested Hermione much to begin with, so she only knew the bare minimum she had to learn in order to defeat Voldemort.
But it did upset Hermione. Often times she would find herself awake at night questioning the basis of her relationship with the two. That, and her interactions with Tom Riddle.
Hermione knew that technically Tom Riddle was not Voldemort. Technically he was not a deranged serial killer but he was still a murderer. He had still killed Myrtle and the entirety of Riddle Manor, including their servant. Scratch that thought, he was a serial killer.
"You know, most people would not sit there," rasped Tom Riddle as he walked into the common room, the lightness in his footsteps making his presense nearly undetectable. Hermione remained unfazed, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of discomforting her.
"Why is that?" She quipped. As if you have ownership to the damn chair, Hermione scoffed. Only then noticing her place upon the silver chair that everyone seemed to avoid, save Tom Riddle.
"Because it belongs to me Granger," his voice was much closer to her now. It was particularly raspy today, Hermione noted. It was way more attractive than when it was smoother. He leaned over the top of the chair, his breath tingling near her ear.
"Surely you do not have ownership to furniture within the Slytherin common room?" She chuckled.
"Perhaps. It is quite funny I found you here actually, I needed to talk to you regarding an issue." He moved the hair from the side of her neck, gently pushing it to the back. "Just recently, I saw something interesting and I was hoping you would provide me with some wisdom on the topic." His voice dropped to a mere whisper.
"Of course, if I am of any help." Hermione couldn't help the discomfort that came with Riddle's close proximity to her. Despite her efforts to remain calm and unfazed when in Riddle's presense, she could not help but recoil everytime she saw him.
"I witnessed a student obliviating another," he waited and studied her reaction, "I was wondering if it would be alright to keep quiet about it?"
Hermione's breath hitched. "What is this about?" She snarled.
He laughed loudly, making her cringe. "Nothing that should concern you, do not worry yourself over it." His tone was humourous.
"What do you want Riddle," Hermione turned sharply. Their faces now mere inches apart. "If you haven't told anyone yet surely it is alright to assume you want something of me?"
Riddle wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger, "smart girl. You are such a smart girl," he praised, eyes flashing red. Hermione recoiled from his touch. "I have a cause. To which I think you would be of excellent use, Hermione." The Death Eaters.
This cannot be a natural event can it? Hermione was dizzy. "What is this cause you speak of?" She would not readily agree to anything, not if she could help it.
Riddle stroked her cheek, grinning at her, "I will tell you everything. Meet me in front of the Room Of Requirement, on the seventh floor. Tonight." He pulled back, retreating from the hearth and into the boys domitory.
Hermione kept staring at the spot she had last seen him in. She felt sick.
She curled up in the silver chair, feeling the heat of the fire warm her face.
What will this mean for the future?
It is a change isn't it?
Hermione Granger did not exist as part of the original Death Eaters.
Does that mean she can refuse? Does it mean it has never happened?
•••
Hermione paced around the seventh floor corridor, anxiety coursing through her veins. Riddle hadn't told her what time she was to meet him there, so she arrived at 12. Once she knew the prefect patrols had ended and the students had gone to bed.
She did not have to wait long before Tom Riddle showed up, dressed immaculately in a perfectly pressed uniform. "Hermione," he tipped his head in acknowledgement. Hermione scurried after him, nodding.
Riddle walked briskly, completing three rounds before a doorway opened to the Lost and Found Room. "After you," Riddle said in mock chivalry.
Hermione promised herself she would not react to any of his words. She pushed open the door and was met with a library like room.
Tall shelves of books were in the background with a single table in between, two seats on either sides. Behind the table was a fireplace that blazed red. Tom walked in behind Hermione and shut the door behind him. "Take a seat, Hermione." He kept saying her name, rolling it around his tongue playfully.
Hermione found it distasteful.
"What do you want, Riddle." Hermione sighed as she slid into the seat. The sooner this confrontation was over, the better. She would decline his offer and if she was expelled from Hogwarts in the process, so be it. But she would drag him down with him, somehow. She knew too much of his little group already.
Riddle slid into the seat opposite Hermione, crossing his arms lazily. He produced two shot glasses with a wave of his wand and offered her one, "veritaserum. Mixed with lemonade, so we may confirm that we are both speaking nothing but the truth." Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"How do I know your drink is not clean?" She asked, scoffing.
Tom grinned charmingly, "you are allowed to try it." He slid it over to Hermione, who raised an eyebrow before raising the glass and sipping on the liquid.
"What is your name?" Tom asked, face morphing into a serious expression. She had not seen much of it in her time in 1944. It was unnerving.
Hermione laughed humourlessly, she would entertain him as he asked, "Hermione R- Granger." She choked out. Tom smirked mockingly, taking his drink off the table and downing it in one gulp.
"First of all, please call me Tom as we continue this meeting. Now Hermione, I will be direct with you. My cause is one that will benefit the both of us." His face was passive, "it is not in any sense a sort of pureblood fascist group. I am telling you this so the members do not alert you. We are very alike Hermione," he leaned against the table now, maintaining eye contact.
"We seek knowledge and with knowledge comes power. I simply seek to raise the wizarding race above the rest, as we belon-"
"Surely you as a half-blood don't share that idealogy? You should know better than the rest that we deserve to be on equal footing." Hermione argued.
"And surely Hermione you do not believe that? How is it equal footing if we are the ones living in hiding? As a half-blood surely you have at least seen the state of the muggle world? The witch trials?" He raised an eyebrow at her challengingly.
Hermione leaned against her chair and frowned. He did have a point. "But muggle's can also produce magic children." Like me.
"I am not suggesting we eradicate the muggle world Hermione. I am suggesting we live out in the muggle world. Magical folk are naturally a step further than non-magical folk and no matter how much you drag moral in this, it will always remain this way." Hermione knew the merit within his words, but she also knew of the many muggles Voldemort had tortured and killed during his reign.
"Why am I do believe you won't abandon this belief after I have shown my worth?" Tom smirked.
"Hermione, I am worth nothing but my words." He stood up, circling around the table to stand behind her and lean into her ear. "And trust me, I have many uses for you." He whispered, voice so mischievously quiet it felt as if the two were sharing a secret.
Hermione swallowed. In a quick calculation this easily meant that Voldemort's objective was indeed derailed somewhere in the future. Hermione also now knew for certain that she had nothing to do with this until now.
Whatever she did henceforth would but nothing but a risky gamble, but it was one she was willing to take. And it will have been one she has never taken before, so she had the power of time and insight on her side.
"Fine, but only on the understanding that I am free to leave once our objectives are no longer the same." Tom hummed near her ear, a pleasing sound.
"Of course, that is reasonable. But in exchange I must ask you keep our conditions and conversations private entirely. At no point in any of your future tasks will you be able to discuss what we do or say." Hermione nodded. Tom stood up from his position, a lopsided grin set on his face.
"Now tell me of your time with Grindelwald." He fiddled with the ring on his finger, as a white board fell into the room, right next to the table. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. Riddle shrugged, "to write down whatever is important to me."
He leaned against the table, half sitting on it. Hermione stood up see eye to eye with him, there was no way she would allow him to play his dirty power games. "Do you wish to learn of my findings only?" Tom nodded.
She took in a deep breath. No lies, only twisted truths. She turned back and gulped down the veritaserum infused lemonade Tom had given her.
With alert eyes, Hermione turned to look at Tom once again. "In my time, I have found that the Dark Lord is seeking immortality." Tom raised an eyebrow, his posture stiffening a little bit, almost unnoticeably.
"Do you remember the story I told you at the lake?"
Riddle raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "It has a significant meaning." She walked to the whiteboard, picking up a marker.
She wrote in capital letters:
Antioch Peverell, Cadmus Peverell, Ignotus Peverell.
Under each of the names she labelled,
- Older Brother (Elder Wand)
- Middle Brother (Resurrection Stone)
- Youngest Brother (Invisibility Cloak)
Riddle raised an eyebrow, "I am assuming this leads somewhere?" He jested, waiting for her to finish writing.
Hermione nodded feverishly. She drew a straight line down from Cadmus' name. "We both know that the eldest brother was murdered and had his wand stolen, but both the other brothers had their magical item with them. With Magic Folk, such items are passed down to future generations. So it will not be insane so assume the stone and cloak met the same fate." Riddle nodded slowly.
She scribbled the name Tom Riddle under the line from Cadmus' name and looked at him, "Lolanth Peverell, distant female descendant of Cadmus Peverell married into the Gaunt family. She was married to Bartholomew Gaunt," she did not wait to watch Riddle's reaction as she continued, "and she passed down the Resurrection Stone into the Gaunt Family. I believe it is the one you wear on your left hand."
Riddle's eyes widened, a sort of sinister smile on his face, "how long have you known of my heritage?" He questioned.
Hermione shrugged, her throat tightening, "since I saw you. Your ring, remember?" Was the closest lie she could tell.
"Well what about the rest?" Tom asked. Hermione could feel his excitement buzzing through the magic he radiated (which, by the way, was a lot).
Hermione walked up to the board once more, "Ignotus Peverell's direct descendants are the Potter's-"
"Oh great I'm related to the Potters." He said dryly.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "focus. I know the Invisibility Cloak is still a part of the Potter household. With each generation, the cloak gets passed down. Which would mean-" she scribbled Charlus Potter under Ignotus' name. "You possess one and the other one is in the same vicinity as us, right now."
Riddle grinned, "what about the Elder Wand?"
Hermione deflated, "the Elder Wand has been passed around for centuries through the hands of celebrated wandmakers. However, some time back it disappeared from the ring," Riddle raised an eyebrow at this disclosure, "because Gregorovitch, the European wandmaker, kept it for himself to study. It was rumoured to be so, but no one could officially prove that. However-"
"Gregorovitch's shop was broken into." Tom connected, his eyes widening. "The article on it was so dull, but only because no one really knew Gregorovitch had it for sure." Hermione nodded. "Are we to assume Grindelwald has taken it then?"
Hermione smirked, "No Tom. I know the Dark Lord has possession of the wand." Tom made a disappointed tutting noise.
"I would have found out if Grindelwald had come so far into Europe," he furrowed his brows.
Hermione crossed her arms, "you would not, I'm afraid. Grindelwald is nothing if he is not cautious. I can provide you with much, much more intel on the man but I have no proof for any of this except word of mouth." Tom glanced at his ring.
"Sit down, Hermione." He instructed, taking over the board. Hermione obeyed, taking a seat. Tom slid the ring off his finger. "Hold on to this for a moment." Isn't this cursed? She thought for a fraction of a second before accepting it, she had touched it before and it had not harmed her. Might as well avoid arising suspicion now.
Hermione leaned away from the table in her seat thinking of the future before Tom broke her out of her reverie, "what else can you tell me about Grindelwald?"
"The Greater Good. But it involves Dumbledore." Tom laughed humourlessly.
"What did Dumbledore do? Try to lecture Grindelwald into letting go of his cause for the greater good?" Tom mocked.
Hermione laughed this time around, "Dumbledore is actually one of the founders of Grindelwald's cause." Tom's jaw went slack, "he and Grindelwald started it when the two of them were still in Hogwarts. Eventually, their goals started becoming increasingly different things and they lost contact-"
"What was Dumbledore's goal?" Tom interjected.
"To allow the wizards into the muggle world, to rule over them as benevolent dictators. It was his cause until his little sister Ariana Dumbledore was caught in a crossfire between a duel Dumbledore and Grindelwald had." Tom chuckled. "Which leads us to how things are as of now."
Tom continued laughing, lighthearted chuckles. Hermione offhandedly noted how attractive he looked when he was laughing.
"So what is Grindelwald up to currently?" He asked, wiping at his eyes.
"I cannot say for sure, but I do know he has a myriad of followers that will not betray him." Tom considered this. "He knows how to twist his words enough to fit everyone's agenda."
"Tell me whatever you know." Hermione perked up. He was moving away from Hermione's experience of things.
"Fine. I know he has taken over most of America. He is actually coming in through the North. Up South is actually just a decoy." Hermione watched as Tom registered this information before he sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly.
"Hermione, I want you to train here with me." He said through his hands. Hermione's eyebrows shot up.
"Train with you?"
"Yes, three nights a week." Training under Lord Voldemort is technically a great honour no matter how big of a slimeball he is... right?
"Of course." It's just knowledge anyway?
"Three nights a week we rendezvous here as well. You will be notified on which nights and I shall approach you myself for training nights. The one night in between you may have to yourself. Welcome to the knights of walpurgis." Hermione gave him a funny look, holding in her laughter.
"What?" Tom asked, annoyance showing on his face.
Hermione snorted, "I'm sorry the Knights of Walpurgis is a funny name." Tom scowled.
"I intend to change it you nincompoop, I cannot have flashy names run through the corridors." Hermione nodded in understanding, still chuckling. Merlin's left asscheek I'm sharing a laugh with Tom Fucking Ridde.
Tom straightened up, "more on to formal business, I require you to call me 'My Lord' whilst my other followers are present." Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"And in private?"
"In private as well as in public just Tom will suffice." He turned away from her, staring at the white board. Hermione nodded, although he could not see.
"Of course. Goodnight Tom." Hermione dod not wait for a response before dashing out of the room.
The future can be changed. Hermione chanted in her head, over and over again as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
Draco, Harry, Ron, I promise I will give all of you the happy lives you deserve.