Trigger warnings for mentions of child endangerment, historical genocide, anti-Semitism, ableism, anti-Romani bigotry, homophobia and transphobia, murder, drinking and so on. Oh, and warnings for a very big spider for anyone who might have arachnophobia-because you know, second year-really, really big spider ahead.

Oh, just a note here-when someone is in the same room as their soulmate, their soulmate marks light up, telling the soulmates that they've found each other.

The serpent's mates

Chapter four

The stone, the prophecy and the diary

Dumbledore was aware of the fact that the girl, Hermione Granger was in possession of the Sorcerer's Stone. He knew that.

The girl had kept it from him for a reason. He held no judgments. When Cornelius Fudge left him and went onto the Ministry, believing that Voldemort was truly gone, not wishing to even entertain the possibility that he might have been working with Quirrell.

Dumbledore…he had his own plans. He knew something that Cornelius Fudge didn't. After Voldemort had disappeared, after the Potters had been killed and Harry had had to be brought to his family members, Dumbledore had gone to the Department of Mysteries and checked for any prophecy that might have involved Voldemort or the name that he had gone by, before he had started calling himself 'Lord Voldemort.' He had seen no prophecy surrounding Harold James Potter.

But he had seen one surrounding a girl, by the name of Hermione. Her last name had changed at some point. To Granger. But before that it had been different.

And though Dumbledore had not seen the prophecy-only the one the prophecy had surrounded, which was Hermione, could pick it up and look at it, but he couldn't help but find the timing odd. The prophecy appeared only a day after Voldemort had disappeared almost eleven years ago. And now this? Hermione had been the one to stop Voldemort in present day?

And with the killing curse, no less?

Dumbledore knew that the killing curse a great deal of power for it to be used effectively the first time.

And Hermione was going to be a second-year soon. Dumbledore knew without question, if Hermione was powerful enough to use the killing curse the first time she had ever to summon it and she had killed someone? When she was only eleven and a half years old?

No, Dumbledore knew that Hermione was no weak witch. She wasn't just clever and intelligent and brave. She was powerful.

Unimaginably powerful.

There were three prophecies. One with the name "Hermione Granger," on one shelf, and another, with the name, "Bellatrix Black," on another shelf. There were a few other prophecies that had popped up on the shelves during that time. Prophecies with the names "Cedric Diggory," "Viktor Krum," "Fleur Delacour," and so on. But there had been no prophecy with the name "Harry Potter" on it. It seemed that Hermione was more integral to the future than he had originally thought.

Dumbledore knew he needed to keep following Hermione's progress over the years. Regardless of what house the girl was in.

Dumbledore was certain that this girl was going to be instrumental in the fight against Voldemort and his followers.

A mere eleven-year-old, on the cusp of turning twelve, and she had mastered the killing curse, in seconds.

She might have had difficulties in other spells, but she had used the killing curse only when she had needed to, and she had done it excellently.

Dumbledore knew, he just knew, that that girl was the key to stopping Voldemort. After Voldemort had disappeared and Harry Potter had been retrieved from Grimmauld Place by Hagrid, he had believed the key to Voldemort's permanent defeat would lie in the boy.

Now? Now, he wasn't so sure.

So, yes, he let Hermione have the Sorcerer's Stone. Some part of him knew he was playing a dangerous game, as he had before.

If Hermione was anything like the wizard whom she shared a wand with, this could end very badly.

But if she fought against Voldemort, as she had in her first year, then there may be hope yet for the witch and wizarding world.

Dumbledore had played this game before-and it had ended with the Heir of Slytherin being loose upon Hogwarts and rising to power. And here? He was making another gamble. But he would have to see where it led him.

Back at Hermione Granger's home, in the muggle world, Jean Granger welcomed her daughter home.

"Mama!" Hermione cried, running over to her mother, dragging her luggage behind her as she ran over, Crookshanks, who she had allowed out of the cage, following after her to the parking lot and she embraced her mother.

"Hermione!" Jean cried, hugging the small brunette girl tightly, kissing the top of her head, "I'm so glad you're back, sweetie."

"Mama," Hermione sniffled, crying into the woman's chest, and Jean looked down at her little girl, confused.

"Honey, what's wrong?" She asked her daughter.

Hermione whispered into her mother's chest, "Mama, I've done something terrible."

Hermione knew she had to tell her mother everything. That she had killed someone-even if it was in self-defense. That Voldemort, the most feared wizard, was back, and that she had put herself in serious danger.

When Jean Granger had gotten her daughter and her daughter's furry friend, Crookshanks, into the house and had closed the door up and had seated Hermione down and had been ready to ask the girl what was wrong.

Hermione, when she had settled down, began to spill everything.

Well, almost everything.

She hadn't told her mother that Dumbledore was likely looking for the Sorcerer's Stone. Or about the Sorcerer's Stone in general. The less her mother had to do with all this, the better.

But she did tell her mother what she had done to Quirrell.

Jean's eyes widened as she absorbed the information that Hermione gave her.

Her daughter had been in serious danger. Then again, that had basically been Hermione's whole life, but still, finding out that she had gone off to school-a new school and technically a new world, and she had almost been killed multiple times.

And she had been forced to kill someone in self-defense.

Jean leaned back in her seat and breathed out hard.

"Are…are you angry, mama?" Hermione asked cautiously, "that I killed someone?"

Jean's eyes widened. "No," she said insistently, "No, my darling, absolutely not." She leaned forward and framed her daughter's face with her hands, "You did what you had to. That's all that happened. Someone tried to kill you. A murderous, bigoted wizard. And you were just defending yourself."

Hermione whimpered, closing her eyes.

She hadn't wanted to, but…but Quirrell and Voldemort hadn't given her a choice.

It had been "kill or be killed." That was all that had happened.

So, why did it hurt so much to know that she did it?

"Mama," Hermione said quietly, "When…when you killed Cromwell's men, did…did you cry? Did it hurt to do?"

Jean paused and she nodded, as Hermione opened her eyes. "Yes," she confessed, "I didn't want to do it. And I cried. But I had to protect you. And I knew they would never stop taking and murdering children. Muggle-born children."

Jean and Hermione hadn't known the proper name for the children that Cromwell's facility had a tendency of taking, until a year ago, when that Hogwarts letter had been brought to them by that owl.

That was when they learned the technical term for the children who had normal parents, but who had magical powers. Muggle-borns.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get you out, my love," Jean said, "You, none of you children deserved to be treated like that in any capacity."

Hermione shook her head. "No," she said, "You don't need to apologize, mama. It wasn't your fault. You got me out." She smiled at her mother adoringly, "And you destroyed the labs. If anyone is a hero when standing against people like Cromwell, it's you."

Jean tried not to smile sadly. Hermione said that now. But that was only because the girl didn't know about the harm that her mother had caused during those years that she had worked for Cromwell. And Jean? She wanted to keep it that way. She wanted her mother to think of her only as a protector-rather than the monster she had been.

Jean could go ahead and claim that she had just been "following orders," but there was nothing that excused her actions-and that excuse, that was just what people back in 1930s to the early 1940s Germany used to say, to excuse what they had done to Jews, disabled people, the Romani people, trans people and homosexuals.

Nothing Jean had done had been excusable. All she could do, at least for Hermione, was take care of her, look after her and protect her. That was all she could do to make up for what she had done. But even that, she knew, would not amend for the things she had done.

Still, she was glad for Hermione to naively think that she was some sort of heroine for what she had done.

Before Jean had worked for Cromwell, she had used to be married. To a man named Richard Preston. He hadn't been her soulmate. They had different soulmate marks. Jean had the mark of a dark purple goblet on her right shoulder. Richard had had the symbol of a white trident.

They had divorced not long after Jean had first started working for Cromwell. They had had problems before that, so her working for Cromwell hadn't been the reason for the divorce.

Richard's former wife, and actual soulmate, a woman named Cecilia Jones had died years before. In a car crash. It had driven Richard to the bottle and had led to one too many fights with Jean.

So, they had split up.

Jean hoped Richard was doing better. But given that he wasn't the type that likely would try to do better, it was unlikely.

Jean hadn't been with anyone else since him.

For a multitude of reasons. Because of her work, and later, because she had a child with powers that she needed to protect.

What if Cromwell sent someone to Jean, pretending to be a suitor, and instead, turned out to be someone sent to retrieve Cromwell's "property?"

Or, even if it wasn't someone sent by Cromwell, what if it was just someone who didn't know about magic and discovered what Hermione could do and got scared off by what they saw as a "freak?"

That was something she hadn't told Hermione. Because she hadn't wanted Hermione to feel guilty.

Because even though there was no reason for Hermione to feel guilt, Jean knew that the girl would feel that way, after hearing the reasons why Jean never dated.

Then there was the other reason. Even when Hermione grew to adulthood, and moved out to start her own life and have a family of her own, how was Jean going to be able to share the things she had done with a prospective partner? She had done terrible things. Even if she found a completely understanding possible partner, would anyone truly be able to trust her, knowing all she had done in her former life?

Besides, she had never met anyone with the same soulmate mark that she had and she doubted she ever would. Her soulmate mark had never started glowing. So, she doubted she'd meet them.

Jean ignored those thoughts and paid attention as Hermione then told Jean, as Crookshanks got up onto a sofa chair and curled up on it comfortably, about the Sorcerer's stone and that she had it and that she wanted to study it. Potentially to extend peoples' lives.

Jean had almost fallen out of her chair when she heard that part.

Her daughter had lied to the headmaster of her school?! And had stolen the Sorcerer's stone for herself? And was hoping to use it to make people live longer?

"Hermione," Jean said, almost laughing in her shock, "My love, I don't think that's a good idea. It's dangerous. Too dangerous."

Hermione looked surprised, then asked, "But you're a scientist, mama. You could study it and see its properties. See how we can spread it to different people-provide long life for everyone around the world!"

Jean sighed. Her daughter truly didn't understand the danger here.

"Hermione," Jean said softly, "What do you think will happen if people find out that we have something that can make people live longer? Something like that? It could start a war. It could cause different countries to fight each other for the stone. And what will happen if it starts being used by the powerful? Then it will be denied to the poor, to the working class. And I think you know that."

Hermione's eyes widened and Jean smiled sadly, seeing that the young girl HAD known that in the back of her mind, but hadn't wanted to accept it. Had wanted to believe that there was an answer to things like death, without the price of possible warfare.

"Oh," Hermione whispered, eyes still wide, shaking her head, "I hadn't…, I mean, I didn't think-"

"It's alright," Jean said softly, "I know you just want to do the right thing. I know. But this? This is dangerous, Hermione."

Hermione lowered her head. Jean got up and hugged Hermione close. "It's alright, it's alright."

Hermione nodded at last. "Okay," she said, "I won't use it. But…but what do I do with it now?"

Jean sighed as she sat down again, reaching out and stroking Hermione's left cheek with her right hand, "We'll hide it, okay? Make sure no one else finds it."

Eventually, they found a place to hide the sorcerer's stone. Hermione looked up some magical spells, used to block the place where she had hid the stone, so that if anything magical tried to get the stone, would be singed.

Hermione then went about to setting everything back up in her room for the summer, and then start sending off letters to her friends.

Her mother was so happy for her, that she had a bunch of friends now. It made Hermione self-conscious, but glad.

The summer passed by, as if in only a matter of minutes. Hermione had sent letters to her friends, and owls had come swooping to the Granger house and would take her letters from her and deliver Hermione's friends' letters to her.

Hermione read up on advanced magic, and on more spells. And eventually, the second year began to roll around.

However, days before the first day of the Hermione's second year at Hogwarts, something happened.

Hermione and Crookshanks were walking out in the garden, getting some of Hermione's mother's tomatoes at her mother's request, when something caught her eye.

A snake. A big, wide, green snake unfurling from around the bottom of one of the garden fence's posts.

Crookshanks hissed at the scaly intruder.

"Crookshanks," Hermione said urgently, "No." Crookshanks eyed her. He was part Kneazle, which meant that he understood her commands. Though he often didn't listen to them.

Hermione picked up a small hand-shovel from the ground, deciding to pry the snake off the post. She had seen snakes like these. And usually when she yelled at them, they slithered off, sensing the danger of a bigger creature in front of them.

She leaned close and snapped at it, "Get the hell out of here!"

The snake's head shot up and it stared at her, stunned, and Hermione held up the shovel threateningly.

The snake did the smart thing and turned and slithered out from behind the post and slithered off into the forest.

It was odd, but snakes always seemed to find their way into the garden, around the Granger property.

Hermione would chase them off and they'd slither away.

There was one time, when Hermione had yelled at a snake when her mother had been nearby, and after the snake had slithered off, her mother had looked at her strangely. Very strangely, but had said nothing and had proceeded to tend to her garden. That had been three years ago, when Hermione had been eight.

When the next year's first day came rolling around, and Hermione got all her things together the night before, and on that morning, Hermione, Jean Granger and Crookshanks went to the train station, went through the portal and went on the platform and headed for Diagon Alley.

Jean took in the sights of Diagon Alley, as she had before, delighting at the different animals and different buildings. Hermione bought a few new things, and heard that there was some big celebrity running around and getting his picture taken. Some bloke named Gilderoy Lockhart.

Hermione and Jean stopped in a bookstore for Hermione's essential school books for the year, ignoring the many crowds gathered around the young man, who Hermione presumed was Lockhart, who was grinning at everyone for different cameras being snapped at him.

Hermione and Jean gathered everything and started heading out of the store, when Hermione saw a family of redheads come through the front door of the store.

Uh-oh.

Hermione fought a grimace, knowing how Ron Weasley saw her.

As soon as Ron and his family were in the store, Ron glared at her. "Oh," he sneered, "You're here, Granger."

"Ronald," Hermione said coolly, hiding her disdain from him.

Jean looked at her daughter, then looked at Ron, confused.

The redheaded woman with Ron, who Hermione couldn't help but assume was Ron's mother, said, "Oh, is this the girl you told me about?" She then looked at Hermione, "The one who stopped 'You-know-who?'"

Hermione was startled. She hadn't expected that particular acknowledgment from the family of Ron Weasley of all people.

Hermione took this time to eye the rest of Ron's family. Fred and George Weasley, the twins and Ron's older brothers, looking at Hermione curiously, as if she was both a curiosity and a possibility to be admired. Or something like that.

The tall, thin redheaded man next to them, who Hermione knew was Percy Weasley, eyed her with some suspicion and scrupulousness.

There was a redheaded man, who Hermione suspected was the children's mother, who smiled at her, greeting her with some politeness. "Hello, Ms. Granger," he said to her, "It's an honor to meet you," he then looked to Jean Granger, "And her mother, I presume?"

Jean nodded. "Yes," she said, "And you are?"

"Mr. Weasley," The man answered, "Arthur Weasley."

Jean nodded, but did not give her own name, recognizing that her daughter was uncomfortable. "Well, then," she said, "I suppose my daughter and I should be going. Nice to meet all of you."

As they headed to the door, two more people appeared in the doorway. A boy and a man. Only this time, they were both almost platinum blonde haired.

Hermione froze, recognizing the boy. Draco Malfoy.

And the long-haired man with her, obviously his father.

His Death Eater father.

Lucious Malfoy.

Hermione swallowed, chest feeling tight.

Lucious Malfoy had been Voldemort's second-in-command in the previous years during Voldemort's reign. And after Voldemort's disappearance? Lucious had started a group to continue Voldemort's work, until those following Lucious had been captured and brought to the Ministry for a trial.

And then? Then Lucious hadn't seen one day in prison. Not one!

It was infuriating.

It was disgusting.

"Ah," The man, Lucious Malfoy, looking past the Grangers at the Weasley family, "Weasley Senior."

"Lucious," Mr. Weasley acknowledged, with distaste in his voice.

Only then did Lucious look at Hermione and Hermione tensed up again, feeling like the worst kind of snake was paying close attention to her. "You are…," he looked at Draco, "Ms. Granger, right?"

Draco nodded, glancing at her, again with that unsettling curiosity that the Weasley family had given Hermione.

"And," Lucious said, looking at Hermione's mother, "Your mother? A muggle, isn't she?"

Hermione glared at him, a warning in her eyes.

It was Jean Granger, however, who spoke, "And you," she said, smiling coldly, "Were at one time, a Death Eater, weren't you?"

Lucious looked startled at this, as if stunned that a woman dared to speak to him like that. Let alone a woman who was a muggle.

Jean Granger took Hermione's hand and walked out of the store, past Draco and his father, uncaring that they were in the way. Hermione watched with amazement as her mother stared with a cold, piercing gaze aimed at Lucious as she passed him.

The two of them reached the street and stopped when they heard Lucious scoff, "Here, girl," Hermione watched as Lucious dropped a couple of books into her cauldron, making Hermione frown. She looked at the former Death Eater suspiciously. Lucious said, "Your muggle mother probably can't afford you the best," he gestured to the book in Hermione cauldron, "So, that can be something to compensate." He turned and walked into the store, a smirking Draco following him.

Hermione glared after him, half debating throwing the books that he had given her at his back. She also debated throwing the books out-because she'd be damned if she'd ever want any kind of "charity" from someone like Mr. Malfoy.

But she was admittedly curious as to the contents of what Lucious had given her.

She walked with her mother to the train station, mumbling quietly, "Sorry you had to see that and get involved in that."

Jean shook her head. "Don't worry about it, honey," she said, "Someone like that? He deserves every awful thing that comes to him."

Hermione chuckled. Yes, that was assuming however, anything bad happened to the asshole.

The two of them reached the platform of nine and three quarters and they reached the train. Jean hugged Hermione, kissing her forehead, telling the twelve-year-old girl that she loved her over and over again. Hermione hugged her mother tightly, telling her mother she loved her, also not telling her mother that she had put several charms on her mother's house and on her mother herself-protection charms.

If Hermione was now on Voldemort's radar? Then that meant her mother potentially was in danger.

Hermione hadn't yet gotten a visit from the Ministry of Magic. Which meant either she wasn't powerful enough to catch the Ministry's attention, or they were giving her leniency, based on her actions the previous year-stopping Quirrell and Voldemort from getting the Sorcerer's stone-though she doubted any of the Ministry would admit the Voldemort was back.

She suspected the first of the reasons. That she wasn't powerful enough to catch the Ministry's attention.

Hermione smiled at her mother as her mother looked at her with love, but also fear. Hermione ignored the guilt that she felt for that fear. All parents feared to a certain extent that something bad would happen to their children. That was just normal. But Jean's fear was more poignant. Because Jean and Hermione both were so used to the danger, they knew that worse than the usual could happen.

"Please be careful, Hermione," Jean pleaded with her daughter and Hermione nodded.

"I will, mama," she said, and she meant it-she'd be careful, if there weren't as many dangers this year as there had been last year, "I love you, mama."

Hermione went through the wall of the portal to platform nine and three quarters, and headed to the train.

Hermione got onboard, and checked through the different compartments.

Eventually, she found the Greengrass sisters sitting across from each other. She knocked on the door, grinning at them.

Astoria and Daphne turned to her, beaming as soon as they saw her and as Hermione opened up the door to the compartment, Daphne jumped up and went over to Hermione and hugged her tightly.

"Mione!" She said, "It's so good to see you! So glad you're here!"

Astoria got up from her seat, grinning and running over, hugging Hermione.

Hermione came in and let Crookshanks out onto the seat next to her as she sat next to Astoria, across from Daphne as the other two girls sat down.

As the train moved, going along, and the girls got to talking about how their summer was, Pansy and Millicent eventually found them and sat down with them, hugging them.

They all sat together, still talking, grinning, overjoyed at seeing each other again, Hermione eventually took out the leather-bound books that Lucious had given her, telling them the story that had taken place in Diagon Alley.

Her friends inspected the books suspiciously and they shook their head after checking the books with their wands.

"Nothing seems wrong with them," Daphne said, "I think it's like you said. It's just a way of him trying to show that he's better than you by giving you charity."

Hermione nodded, scowling and picked up the books, putting them away. All of them, except one. That one being the apparently empty diary or journal.

Hermione opened up the blank tome, frowning. She then closed it and checked the different corners of it.

There was a name on the edge of the corner of the journal. The name was "T. M. Riddle."

Hermione frowned. "Huh," she said, "It looks like this belonged to someone previously. Does anyone know the name, 'T. M. Riddle?'"

She watched as Daphne, Astoria, Millicent and Pansy all shook their heads-then Pansy paused, her eyes widening in recognition.

"Oh!" She said, "I think I've seen some trophy or something. With his name on it."

Hermione nodded. "Can you show me it?" She asked Pansy.

Pansy nodded back. "I'll show it to you when we get to Hogwarts," she assured her friend.

The train trip was almost uneventful, save for the occasional magical creature flying past the train and the occasional familiar getting loose on the train.

Hermione, Astoria, Pansy, Daphne and Millicent got to the boats, and went off to Hogwarts.

They reached the castle and got to the Slytherin table.

Hermione was unable to help but watch Draco Malfoy suspiciously the whole time. There were those goons, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle with them. And another boy. A young twelve-year-old black boy named Blaize Zabini.

Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important about that journal that she had in her possession.

She couldn't put her finger on it.

But the feast carried on without incident. One thing that Hermione heard that was curious. Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter hadn't shown up yet.

Unfortunately, Gilderoy Lockhart had been appointed as the new Dark Arts professor. Hermione rolled her eyes. That was a laugh.

Hermione didn't ponder too much on why she felt odd about the journal or the diary, as she and her friends and the other Slytherins headed off to their dorms.

As everyone else slept, Hermione decided that she might as well put her name in the diary. If no one else owned it, then she might as well address it to herself.

She opened it up, and began writing her name at the top of the first page. She jotted in "Hermione Granger," with her quill.

She sat back on the sofa chair using her wand to light up the room as she saw her name on the page.

Then watched, her eyes widening as her name disappeared from the page. Absorbing into the page.

"What the-?" Hermione asked, mouth dropping.

A few seconds later, words appeared on that same page. The words on the first page of the journal said, "Hello, Hermione Granger." The words disappeared and new words appeared in a new sentence. "My name is Tom Riddle," was the next sentence.

Hermione stared at the journal, stunned as that sentence faded away. She dropped the journal onto the table in front of her in the Slytherin Common Room, staring at it still, as if she expected it to do more. A shiver ran down her spine.

A sentient journal? She admitted, she had never read of anything like that before. How? How was that possible? Maybe it was enchanted to respond to peoples' names?

Hermione decided that that was the only logical explanation. Still, despite that, she didn't touch the journal again for the rest of the night, hiding it in her room and tried to get some sleep.

The next day, Hermione and her friends heard something interesting.

Harry and Ron had arrived at school last night. In a flying car, apparently. And had crashed it into the whomping willow, of all things.

Hermione had scoffed, hearing that. Because of course they did.

Later on, between classes, as Pansy went off to get some books, Millicent did an errand for Snape and the Greengrass sisters went off to the library, Hermione's curiosity got the better of her.

She went to a secluded area, opened up the journal and started writing in it again. She couldn't help it.

She didn't know what it was, but she felt drawn to the journal for some reason.

She wrote in the journal, "Are you enchanted to respond to a person's written questions?"

The answer came seconds later, emerging onto the page. The answer was, "In a way, yes."

Then there was a new question, "Is this still Hermione Granger?"

Hermione frowned. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing that this thing knew what her name was, but she jotted down, "yes."

The "yes" disappeared, then a sentence appeared. It was a question. The question was, "which house are you in, Hermione?"

Hermione answered, deciding to lie, "Gryffindor."

The answer came a second later, "Ah, I see. I was in Slytherin. Years and years ago. I hope you don't find that off putting."

Hermione responded with, "I don't. What was it like all those years ago? I've heard that you had a trophy somewhere. What was it for?"

The response was, "It wasn't that different I suppose from how it might be from your time. At least, I don't think so. Eventful, warm and enlightening. The trophy? That's complicated. I did something for the school and I think that the school wanted to sweep it under the rug so that they didn't have to deal with it, so they just gave me a trophy and told me to be quiet about it."

Hermione frowned. That sounded incredibly unjust.

She wrote down, "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

The response to her was, "It's alright. Authority is…well, complicated. And often to be questioned."

Hermione smiled, despite the strange conversation and wrote back, "You've noticed that too?"

Hermione then asked, "This might be a personal question, but Tom, are you dead?"

The words disappeared and there wasn't anything that appeared again for a while and Hermione was suddenly worried that she had crossed a line-though she wondered how that would be possible if this book was in fact just enchanted.

Then the response came a second later after Hermione had wondered if she had been out of line.

The response was, "The answer to that is somewhat complicated. It's best to see me as a memory of someone. And we can leave it at that."

Hermione felt like there was more to the story, but let it go. She already got the feeling that she had crossed a line with that question.

So, instead, she asked him about the classes he had taken and they went back and forth like that.

Hermione wasn't sure if the journal actually was sentient in the sense that there was someone actually talking to her, or if it was just enchanted, but she wanted to show it to her friends.

Two days later, when Hermione was sure that she, Pansy, Astoria, Daphne and Millicent were alone in the common room, it was then that she showed her friends the journal. She wrote a question into it and they watched as the question disappeared.

The question Hermione had written had been, "Are you still there, Tom?"

Ink words appeared on the page again, saying, "Yes, Hermione, I'm still here."

Hermione grinned when she heard her friends gasp around her.

"It's enchanted?" Astoria asked, looking at the journal curiously.

Hermione nodded. "That's what I'm thinking," she said, "I don't know what the enchantments were. But I'm sure it's been enchanted."

Hermione wrote down in the journal, "My friends are here now. They're curious about the journal."

A new answer said, "Ah, hello, Hermione's friends."

Hermione smiled at the others as they shared shocked looks.

"This is the journal that you had before, right, Hermione?" Pansy asked, "The one that belonged to Tom Riddle?"

Hermione nodded. "That's right," she answered.

She quickly wrote into the journal, "Tom, what year did you graduate from Hogwarts?"

The answer came a few seconds later, saying, "1945."

Pansy's eyebrows raised up.

"Wow," Astoria said.

"Maybe keep this around," Millicent said, grinning, "This journal might tell us what we need for the later exams years from now."

Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. "Seriously, Millicent," she said.

Still, it was a fascinating find. The girls kept the journal hidden away, right under Hermione's mattress.

Days later, something happened.

Hermione was communicating with Tom in the journal, while the others were busy, and she got a piece of information that caught her attention.

Apparently something had happened here in Hogwarts years and years ago, while Tom had been in school.

Fifty years ago, a student had been killed. In the girls' bathroom.

Tom claimed that he had caught the person that had done it, but the person had just been expelled and nothing more and the creature that had been used to murder the girl hadn't been caught.

And that? That had been what Tom had been given the trophy for, in exchange of keeping quiet.

Hermione was horrified by this story.

If true, then there had been a great injustice done in this school.

Hermione asked Tom where his trophy was. Tom told her, and Hermione got up to go find it.

She found it eventually. It was a pretty big trophy. Colored light gold, though Hermione doubted it was actually gold.

On the plaque of it, it said, "Tom Marvelo Riddle."

Hermione's eyes widened. So, that was what the "M" stood for.

Huh.

Hermione looked at the words below the name. The words said, "For a service to his school."

Hermione scowled. If what Tom had told her was true, then Tom had did more than just a service to the school. He had done a service for everyone by stopping a dangerous monster and its owner. And all that had happened to the person that had brought the creature into the school had been expelled? That was it?

A few more days passed by, and Hermione, Pansy, Astoria, Daphne and Millicent went through the school year, without events. They ignored Draco and his goons, and ignored Lockhart and his floundering about, showing off and all his moronic shenanigans in the Dark Arts class.

Very early in the year, he had idiotically let a bunch of Cornish pixies loose in the classroom, and hadn't known how to contain them again.

Thankfully, Hermione had her own spell for that. She used the "immobulus" spell, to freeze all of the pixies in midair. Pansy, Astoria and Millicent ducked down and Daphne had hit several pixies with a book, sending them flying, before Hermione had administered the spell.

Poor Neville had been dangled above the classroom, on a chandelier.

Hermione had looked up at him, sympathetically.

"Why is it always me?" He had asked.

Aside from that? Nothing had happened, pretty much all year.

Hermione had snuck into one of the offices, hoping to find some records of who had been expelled, hoping to get an idea of who exactly had been responsible for bringing a dangerous creature into Hogwarts all those years ago. But she had found nothing.

Eventually, Hermione had told Tom that she was in Slytherin, not Gryffindor. And that she had told him that because she hadn't trusted him initially.

Tom had reacted with understanding and no judgment.

The days passed on. And again, nothing had happened. However, Hermione's curiosity was peaked, as it had been as soon as Tom had told her about the incident with the monster. Afterhours, while the others were asleep, she snuck into the Common Room, and began writing in the book to Tom.

She asked, "Can you tell me how you stopped the person that let the creature into the house that killed the girl?"

The answer had disappointed her. The answer was, "No."

Hermione sighed, sagging back into her seat. Then new words popped up onto the page. The words said, "But I can show you."

Hermione frowned. What did that mean?

She leaned forward, holding the journal close to her person. Suddenly she felt a jolt ripping through her and she felt something pull her closer to the journal.

"What-?" She asked weakly, feeling herself being pulled forward, hard.

She felt the blood leaving her, paling considerably, which was impressive, as she was already very pale.

There was a flash of gold light, and suddenly the Common Room disappeared from Hermione's view.

She suddenly was in a room she had never seen before. It was a vast office of some kind, covered along the walls with portraits moving. There was a desk up ahead, where an elderly looking man sat.

He looked younger than Dumbledore, but still elderly. She then noticed that a boy stood in front of the desk. A handsome boy, who looked around fifteen or sixteen. He had a head of short black hair, and his eyes were light brown.

He had a Slytherin uniform on.

The boy said, looking at the man, "Is there no way that Hogwarts will stay open if these attacks don't stop?"

The man behind the desk looked at the boy, "I'm sorry, Mr. Riddle, but unless the culprit is caught, the school will have to be closed down. You have a family to go back to, don't you?" He asked.

Hermione turned to the boy. Riddle? This was Tom Riddle?

"Tom?" She asked him, and as soon as neither Tom, nor the man behind the desk registered that she was there, she mentally kicked herself. "Right," she chuckled, "I'm in a memory. They can't see me. This has happened already."

Tom answered the old man's question, "No, sir," he said, "I've never seen my father, and my mother died when I was born."

The man nodded, an unsympathetic look in his eyes, "Muggle-born?"

Tom shook his head. "No, sir," he answered, "Half-blood. My mother was a witch. My father a muggle. If the school closes, I have only a muggle orphanage to go back to."

"I see," the man said, "I'm sorry, but I'm sure you understand that under the circumstances, the school will have to be closed, unless whoever is behind the attacks is caught."

Tom looked somber as he answered, "I understand, headmaster. Good day, then," he then turned and walked out of the office, going down the stairs into the next hall.

Hermione remembered, as she followed Tom, what the name of the headmaster had been before Dumbledore. Headmaster Armando Dippet.

Hermione tried to ignore the pain in her heart as she followed Tom. It hurt to imagine this young boy, someone who's memories had more or less become a comfort to her over this past year, and who apparently had had no one-not his mother, not his father, and only had had an orphanage to go back to, was in this position.

She followed him to the stairs, and had a brief encounter with Professor Dumbledore, before he had been headmaster, of course.

After Dumbledore had told Tom to go to bed, Tom had quickly left and had then gone to another room, using the spell used to unlock the door and went in.

Hermione saw a student that was for lack of better terms, huge. Big, stocky, and incredibly wide and tall.

There was a big, square wooden box on a table in front of the big student.

Tom stood in front of the big student and aimed his wand at the other student. He said, "Rubeus, I'm sorry, but I need to get rid of the creature that you've brought to the school. Monsters don't make good pets."

Hermione's eyes widened. Rubeus? That was Hagrid's first name.

This was Hagrid!

The large student shook his floppy-haired head. "No!" he said, "It wasn't him! It wasn't Aragog! He didn't do it!"

Tom said coldly, "The most that we can do for the girl's family is to dispose of the monster that butchered their daughter."

"No!" Hagrid cried.

Tom aimed the wand at the box, spitting out a spell, ripping the box open.

Hermione cried out, backing away when she saw what came out of the wooden box. It was a huge, hairy, eight-legged creature with multiple beady eyes.

Hermione felt sick as she watched it emerge from within the box and scuttle out, scurrying across the floor. Hermione backed away as Tom aimed his wand at the spider and used a spell, but the spider got away.

The young Hagrid grabbed Tom, trying to pull him back, but Tom aimed the wand again at him, making Hagrid back away and release Tom. Tom said in warning, "You are going to be expelled for this, Rubeus. I'm sorry."

Hermione felt herself being drawn back violently as she shot out of the memory, crashing hard back into the sofa chair where she had been before, in the Slytherin Common Room.

Hermione gasped, shaking as she took in the surroundings of the room, realizing that she was back.

Her chest heaved as she absorbed what she had seen, her pale white cheeks turning pink with the exhaustion of what she had just witnessed.

"Well," she said quietly, "Shit."

She almost jumped when Crookshanks jumped into her lap, seeming to stare at her as if asking, "Where the hell did you go, human?" Hermione sighed, petting him gently as he rubbed into her hand.

Rubeus Hagrid. Was he the one that had gotten that girl killed? Even if it was an accident, had he brought something into the school and had gotten a girl killed?

Hermione didn't want to think that he was capable of that kind of negligence, but she wouldn't put it past him either.

And who was she going to trust more? The man who tended to bring dangerous creatures into Hogwarts and was a teacher, or a half-blood with no one to support him who had tried to do the right thing?

Hermione decided that she needed to keep a close eye on Hagrid from now on.

And try to find out who the girl was that had been killed.

And before anything else? Tomorrow, when her friends were awake, she would need to tell them what she had seen.

Author's note

So, a lot to unpack here.

Firstly, yes, there's a chamber of secrets-obviously. But no, it isn't going to be opened yet. The basilisk isn't going to be used yet. So, anyone who was hoping for a big battle involving the basilisk? Sorry, but you'll need to wait. And so, that means, no one getting petrified. Secondly, you might ask, what the hell is Tom, AKA Voldemort planning? Well, that's the question, isn't it? Tom, like Dumbledore, is playing the long game.

And thirdly, yes, despite Hermione's gut feeling, she's beginning to trust Tom. And yes, that's very, very bad.