Previously...

However, before she could look much further, chocolate met ice and she knew that was the end. That was the moment she realised she could no longer remain invisible. That was the moment she knew her mission to destroy Lord Voldemort was over. Tom Marvolo Riddle had his sights set firmly on his new interest, Hermione Jean Granger. It was over before it had even begun.

"Maybe the Know-It-All wasn't a Know-It-All after all"

How could she have been so stupid? She should have known one wrong move would have ruined her chances instantly. Women in the 1950's did not attack men who were considered their superiors. Especially pureblood women.

She couldn't prevent the fear and anxiety she felt from his burrowing stare from flooding her eyes. She had failed every single person she had sworn to save and protect from the creature sitting on his throne like chair. Of course his followers would have him sit on a pedestal, even when the majority of people at this event did not truly know who Lord Voldemort was, let alone that he existed just yet. From what she had learnt about his timeline, he was supposed to be travelling around the world, seeking darker and darker artefacts to aid him in this goal to be the greatest, and obviously darkest, wizard of all time.

And thanks to her stubbornness, she had given him a free pass to do just that. If she had just allowed that house elf to be tortured, no matter how much it would have pained her, she would have been able to get close to his followers and him in turn, make him think that she too believed that some creatures were expendable and purebloods were the superior race. She could just imagine Snape's derisive remarks now, "I suppose the Know-It-All isn't a Know-It-All after all".

Ron would look at her like she'd grown three heads, "Hermione, I know you're in love with SPAWE, or whatever it's called, and all that but did you really think the Dark Lord wouldn't notice you when you're not ready after that?! You've bloody buggered it all now haven't you?"

"'Mione, it's okay, you can get through this. You've got brains, just think of something and fast", Harry would of course be the supportive one, knowing full well that all hope was lost now.

"Miss Granger, what were you thinking?" Her Head of House, Minerva, would be looking at her with disappointment shining bright in her eyes. Never actually saying how she felt about her most promising student but allowing it to translate through her ever expressive orbs.

And Dumbledore, well, he'd just peer at her over his half moon spectacles with a knowing look in his twinkling eyes. A knowing look that she would not understand until he finally decided to put her out of her misery and explain it to her. But by that point she would have already figured half of it out, with the rest to fit themselves in the puzzle. But he wasn't here to explain anything, she didn't have anyone to berate her for her poor choices or to hold her back from doing something she might later regret. She didn't have a support system here in 1951, she was alone.

So for her, she was left with two choices, fight or flight. The Gryffindor inside of her was roaring, raging for a fight, to draw her wand and hit the murderous, evil orphan with an unforgiveable. However, she had to disappoint her inner lioness. Her mind was shutting down, all the different scenarios, the consequences of her actions, her imagination was taking over, moulding all into one jumbled mess. She did the only thing that was left for her to do. She ran.

On more than one occasion she almost tripped over her long ruby red gown, grabbing a fistful of the silk fabric in each hand, she held it up as she escaped the admittedly gorgeous big ballroom, which felt like it was closing in and suffocating her the longer she stayed in there.

With more force than she though she would ever muster, she slammed her shoulders into the witches and wizards who didn't step aside in time in her hurry to reach the large oak doors. When she finally reached her exit, she pushed them open with more power than necessary, her palms turning a shade of red.

She continued to run down the dark hallway leading to the front doors. She was panicking, her breaths coming in uneven gasps, her chest growing tighter with each movement her body made, but she had to get out of there, no matter what.

Everywhere she looked, she was drowning in memories. She thought she'd be able to manage an hour or two at Malfoy Manor. She had assumed it would have changed over time, but it hadn't, everything had remained the same. The only difference was the portraits, there weren't as many and they were placed in different areas. She remembered being dragged in here by the snatchers, their bruising grasps much too tight, the excitement rolling off them in waves in anticipation of the reward they would have surely received for delivering the Boy Who Lived, his blood traitor friend and the magic stealing Mudblood.

She didn't know when she stopped moving, she didn't know when she had hunched over in the doorway of the parlour, her eyes unmoving from the spot where Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured her and carved the derogatory word into her arm. She didn't register when a figure allowed her to use them as a support, winding their strong and muscular arm around her waist. She didn't realise when she had leaned into them, their body was radiating more power than she had ever felt.

A deep baritone voice reached out to her, whispering in her ear, telling her to breathe, demanding she follow the instructions. Her foggy mind listened to the only voice of reason, the only one that was confident and demanding. "Breathe in through your nose, that's it, and out through your mouth. Good girl. Again, in through your nose, out through your mouth".

It was helping, her breathing was getting back on track, her ragged breaths were become smoother, it didn't hurt to breathe anymore. She closed her eyes to help her focus, she couldn't think about her past, she had a new future to cultivate and constantly remembering the negative aspects would only hinder her from moving forward.

She was being moved she realised, her feet moving on their own accord, keeping in step with the body attached to the baritone voice that helped her. The voice was full of authority, commanding others to continue enjoying themselves in the ballroom, while they attended to her.

Her eyes opened slowly, they were closed so tightly it was difficult to suddenly adjust to the change in light. She found herself in a completely different room, it was full of colour, a scene she had never expected to see in the Malfoy Manor. As if a switch was suddenly turned on in her brain, she stood upright and tense. She remembered where she was and who had attended the party. Casting a quick look out of the corner of her eyes, her worst dreams were realised.

She thought her only mistake would be cursing that rat, Pettigrew. But no, here she stood, in an area of the mansion she knew nothing about, or what directions she had taken to get there, with the arm of Lord Voldemort still wrapped around her.

Maybe Snape was right, maybe the Know-It-All wasn't a Know-It-All after all.

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! I love hearing your thoughts. It's great to see you're as invested in the story as I am. I'm excited and hoping to meet your expectations :)

Please continue to let me know what you think, it definitely fuels my inspiration.

I'll try and update this story as often as I can but I'll find it quite difficult. Shift work, two naughty dogs and a boyfriend are very time consuming haha!

Thank you so much again! :D