After leaving the Ministry, Hermione apparated back to Renshaw House, heading straight up to her bedroom. She thought about locking her door, but decided not to bother, knowing that no one would disturb her. Her grandfather was still sleeping, and probably would be for many hours to come, and Baldwin was off working on restoring the house to its former glory. She was grateful for that, feeling the need to be alone for a while.
Her mind was in a state of chaos, a million different thoughts swirling out of control inside of her head. Taking a few deep, soothing breaths, she attempted to calm herself before working everything out.
She started with everything that she had just learned. Tom had used the Cruciatus Curse on both Abraxas and McGonagall. That much she knew. Why? That, she didn't know. The logical thing to do was to confront him about it and ask him why he had done so, but at the same time, she didn't think she would be able to face him right away, at least not without breaking down crying or screaming at him.
No, that wouldn't work. A level head would be needed to face him.
Were Abraxas and McGonagall the only ones he had tortured? Who was to say he hadn't gotten annoyed at someone else while she was gone? Say, a co-worker who might have accidentally knocked into him or spilled his drink all over him. She didn't like thinking like that, as it made him seem even more cruel and ruthless, but at the same time, she knew that she couldn't rule out any possibilities.
While he was capable of great things, he was also capable of terrible things. She had always known that deep down. She had simply chosen to overlook the fact for a while, focusing only on the good. There was nothing wrong with that in theory, except for the fact that it had left her unprepared for situations such as this.
A part of her couldn't help but feel guilty, as if this was all her fault. The whole reason she had been sent back to this time was to stop Tom from becoming Voldemort, and though she had done her best to prevent the creation of his Horcruxes and saved several lives, it clearly hadn't been enough. Had she failed in some way?
Maybe the problem was that she had fallen in love with him? The scroll never once instructed her to fall in love. Then again, Dumbledore had always been convinced that Tom wasn't capable of love. He was wrong in that assumption. At least, she thought he was.
Just then, she saw a faint glow emanating from her suitcase, which was set next to her bed where she had dropped it upon her return earlier that day. She hadn't even had the chance to unpack yet, unsure of whether it even paid to do so. Now that she was back and had some time on her hands, she figured that she may as well.
Picking it up and laying it down on her bed, she unfastened the straps and unlocked it. She soon found the source of the glow. It was her diary; the one that Tom had given her for Christmas.
He was trying to contact her...
She just stood there and stared at it for a couple of minutes, debating whether or not to open it. Was he writing to her because he had heard about her appearance at the ministry and wanted confirmation from her that it was true? She hadn't thought anyone recognized her, but she could be wrong. The number of times she had been proven wrong in her judgment lately was a testament to the fact.
Perhaps she could confront him through the diary? That way, she wouldn't have to actually face him and she wouldn't be at risk of being hurt if he grew violent with her.
No, that wasn't a good idea. Not to mention that it sounded downright cowardly. As tempted as she was to try and take the easy way out, she knew that, for her own sake, she needed to face him in person. She needed to hear him admit what he had done in his own words, and see the expression on his face when he did so.
Still, it wouldn't do any good to ignore him, she decided as she reached out and picked up the small book. Pulling it open, she let the book take her to the page he had written on.
I miss you, was all that was written.
Those three little words made Hermione want to cry.
I miss you too.
Despite everything she had discovered, she could still honestly say that she missed him. She knew she shouldn't, but she did regardless.
What have you been up to? Tell me about Greece. I need a distraction.
Had she read this message a couple of days earlier, she would have thought nothing of it, but now… Now she couldn't help but wonder… What did he mean by that? What exactly did he need a distraction from? Was it a distraction from missing her or a distraction from the urge to torture more innocent people?
Nevertheless, she obliged his request and told him about Greece and all the things she had done while she was there, obviously omitting the part about going to visit the seer in Delphi. There was no way she could safely bring that up without revealing the prophecy to him.
I don't suppose you've grown tired of traveling yet? I know you'll be back in June, but still. I miss waking up to your beautiful face every morning.
They were a couple hundred miles apart, and yet he was still able to make her swoon with his words. Why did he have to be so charismatic and just… utterly irresistible? At the very least she was relieved that he didn't seem to be aware that she was back in Britain. Unless that too was a lie.
I don't know if I could ever grow tired of traveling. However, I might be inclined to return a bit sooner. I'll have to discuss it with my Grandfather though.
She hadn't known what exactly to say. Eventually she would have to return to him, but how long could she wait before doing so? She didn't much like the idea of hiding away in her Grandfather's house until June, and she couldn't bear the thought of returning to her travels, all the while knowing that her friends were in danger.
Well, I have to go now, but I wish you all the best, and I hope that your grandfather will approve of the idea.
And with that, she closed the diary, slipping it back into her suitcase before locking it back up and setting it back down on the floor. She had made a decision.
Something needed to be done. That much was certain. She needed to protect those she cared about. However, that included him as well. The thought of just abandoning him to such a dark fate hurt too much… She had to at least try to save him. Looking back at the past, she had always managed to get through to him before. Maybe she could do it again?
It was time for her to return to him. Not right away. She needed time first to prepare herself, as well as make the necessary arrangements. As she had told Tom, she needed to discuss it with her grandfather when he woke up. And there was one other person she wanted to visit as well.
The man who had set her on this path to begin with...
That evening, after the sun had set, Hermione and Kieran headed to Hogwarts, a place that neither of them thought they would be returning to so soon. It was strange for Hermione to be back at Hogwarts and not be a student, having spent so many years there. Thirteen years in total if you included her original six years.
Luckily, there weren't terribly many students out and about at that hour. Dinner had already ended and curfew went into effect within the hour. Of course, there were always a few odd students who insisted on staying out as long as possible, some even longer. One of the students she happened to come across was none other than Charlus Potter, whom she found hiding in a darkened corner, snogging a Slytherin girl that she recognized as Dorea Black.
Hermione quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to disturb them, a sad smile tugging at her lips. It wasn't that long ago when her and Tom were in their shoes, sneaking kisses in between classes and prefect patrols. Those seemed like such simple days in comparison. Oh, how she longed to have them back.
"Are you sure we can trust Dumbledore with this?" Kieran asked.
Hermione didn't know that herself, if she was completely honest. Her former Transfiguration Professor and once Headmaster was unpredictable at the best of times. However, he did have experience with her current dilemma. If anyone could understand what it was like to love a dark wizard, and not want to be the one to end said dark wizard, it was Dumbledore.
"What is your impression of him?" she asked in response. "You taught in the same school as him for many years."
"You know very well that I am not a sociable person, and as such, can hardly recall a time in which I spoke more than a few words to him. I never particularly cared to get to know him, though I have heard rumours that he is an exceptional wizard."
In that case, she probably knew more than him. That was a strange, yet exhilarating thought. For once she actually knew more about something than her vampiric grandfather. She couldn't help the small smug smile that pulled at the corners of her lips.
Before long they arrived in the Transfiguration Classroom. The classroom itself was empty, but the light shining through underneath the door to his personal chambers alerted them to his presence.
"Come in!" he called, no doubt hearing their footsteps.
If Dumbledore was surprised to see them, he certainly didn't show it. Tearing his gaze away from the pile of homework before him, he looked at them as if he had known they were coming all along.
"Lemon Drop?" he asked as always, motioning to the bowl of sweets. "Or perhaps a Blood Pop would be better suited to your tastes, Kieran?"
Kieran scowled. "No thank you. Those things are so diluted that you can hardly taste any blood at all. It's really not surprising that they don't work."
Huh. That was the first time she had heard that about Blood Pops. They were always advertised as the perfect treat for vampires. Though, she supposed advertisements were more often than not simply hyped to sell the product. Also, she had never tasted one herself to know for sure. In this case, she chose to take her grandfather's word on it.
Her attention was then captured by the sight of an all too familiar bird sitting on his usual perch. Moving towards him, she reached out to gently stroke a finger along his cheek and down his neck. He let out a pitiful noise as he leaned into her. She could see that he wasn't feeling well. His feathers had lost much of their color, and fallen out even.
"Poor Fawkes. It's getting close to your burning day, isn't it?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so," Dumbledore replied with a wistful smile. "He's been molting all over my office for days now. The sooner he gets it over with, the better, in my opinion."
As sad as it was to hear that the beautiful bird was about to die, she knew she ought not to feel too sad about it. She had read about Phoenixes and how they were reborn from their own ashes. Still, it would be an interesting event to witness. Harry said they burst into flames.
"However, you seem to have brought him a bit of extra cheer. He always did seem quite fond of you. Then again, it shouldn't come as a surprise really. The Phoenix has the most extraordinary mind, capable of remembering something as simple as a face for hundreds of years, past or future."
Hearing that made Hermione freeze. "You know."
He nodded.
"How long?"
"Since I asked to speak with you in your first year, or rather your first year in 1938," he explained. "As you might recall, I was curious about how remarkably advanced you were. I'm afraid that I allowed it to get the best of me, and I hope you will forgive me for this, but I read your mind. You can only imagine how surprised I was to find that you were actually a time traveler."
Hermione didn't know what to say. Her head was spinning. As if she hadn't had enough startling discoveries lately. Dumbledore had read her mind… Somehow that didn't surprise her. At the time, she hadn't even considered the possibility, but now that she thought back on it, she realized that all the signs were there. She could remember feeling mentally exhausted after that interrogation. It made perfect sense.
"So then, you must know why I was sent back? Why you sent me back?"
"Because of Tom Riddle," he answered. "I assume that is why you have come to visit me on this fine evening?"
She had to wonder whether he already knew about everything that had happened, but told him anyway, recounting what the seer had predicted. It was almost as if the words were etched into her skull. She felt as though she would never forget them. Then again, she had once felt the same way about Dumbledore's Scroll. She hadn't forgotten about it wholly, but at the same time, she didn't remember it word for word.
"I have but one question for you, Miss Granger," he spoke after a while. "When you saw young Mr. Malfoy's memory, did you happen to notice which wand Tom was using?"
A jolt ran through her as the significance of his question dawned on her. "He was using the Elder Wand."
"The Elder Wand is often seen as a means to achieve one's wildest dreams, and while the wand itself can be used for good, it comes with a terrible curse. The power it grants its wielder is overwhelming, and has a way of corrupting even those with the best of intentions."
"So, it's the Elder Wand that is causing him to act this way?" Kieran asked.
"Yes and no," Dumbledore replied. "There is darkness in each of us, only more so in some. Tom, is one such person. That is simply the way he was born. You have done well in taming his darkness, Miss Granger, but you can not tame it completely. There will always be a part of him that will struggle in this way."
"Does that mean there is no hope for him?"
Dumbledore didn't respond right away, as he got a far away look in his eyes. He was lost in his own thoughts. Perhaps even thinking about his own past.
"That is a question I can not answer. Only time will tell. Tom faces a difficult decision, one that many powerful wizards such as him have failed. He must decide what is more important to him; power or love."
His words didn't exactly make her feel any better, but she knew that they weren't necessarily meant to. The truth wasn't always pleasant, nor was it easy to take. However, she was grateful that Dumbledore was telling her the truth. She knew from experience that was a privilege that few people received. Her former Headmaster had a tendency of keeping people in the dark when he thought it best.
"He's asked me to come back, and I intend to do so," Hermione made her intentions clear. "I wish to observe his behavior on a day to day basis before I confront him about it. If I can still help him even in the slightest, I will try."
"I do not think that wise, Miss Granger, not for his sake, but for yours. The prophecy seems to suggest that you are at risk of falling to the darkness yourself."
"That is another reason why I came to you. I need you to promise that, should things go wrong, and I end up following him into the darkness as foretold, you will end both of us."
"I don't think-" Kieran started to protest, but was cut off as Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him.
"I will do what is necessary," Dumbledore assured her. "However, I do agree with Kieran that we shouldn't jump to such drastic conclusions straight away."
"What if we were to come up with a non-violent solution to serve as an alternative? That way, should it prove necessary, you would be able to stop him without actually killing him," Kieran suggested.
Her heart skipped a beat. She tried not to get her hopes up too much, afraid of being disappointed, but she couldn't deny that his suggestion did appeal to her. A non-violent alternative would be preferable. She didn't want to kill Tom, and she certainly didn't want to follow him down his dark path.
"What do you have in mind?"
