Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the world.
Chapter 2 - Gryffindor Tower - September 13th, 1943
Hermione awoke to the shrill noise of her wind-up alarm clock, which she kept beside her pillow within her charmed bed curtains so that its rings wouldn't disturb her roommates.
Groaning, she gave it a smack to silence it.
Sitting up and yawning powerfully enough to pop her ears, she willed herself not to fall back asleep while dragging a hand over her face and picking the sleep from her eyes. She sat there a few more minutes in what she was sure was pure agony before gathering the motivation to open her curtains and pull the satin scarf from her head.
It was only seven in the morning.
She padded slowly over to the shared bathroom with her clothing for the day; all of her dormmates except one other—she spied a made bed—would still be asleep for at least another half hour. Classes didn't start until eight forty-five but she was up earlier because she was still getting used to mapping the castle.
It was Monday and she had double potions first. She had prepared everything the night before, even going so far as to braid her hair into tight cornrows.
She'd learned early on in her academic career that a single stray hair would absolutely ruin a perfectly good potion, causing one to have to start all over again. Now, she took absolutely no chances as she patted the tight plaits while observing herself in the mirror. Confident that there were no flyaways, she proceeded to brush her teeth, wash her face, and dress for the day.
Slipping on a plain white blouse, wool stockings and a long maroon skirt, she made a face as she picked a small ball of lint near the zipper and flicked it into the sink.
It didn't actually matter what she wore, the plain black Hogwarts robes covered everything anyway. She persisted mostly because it did make her feel more put together. Regardless that she was a witch, there were some non-magique habits she refused to let go of.
Shuffling back into the dorm, she folded her pyjamas and placed them under her pillow before proceeding to make the bed. Once finished, she pulled her robes over her head, fixed her hat on her head, slipped on and laced up her boots. Looking around to ensure she wasn't forgetting anything, she left the dorm as her other dormmates started to rouse.
She reached the common room to find Géraldine Dubois, her dormmate that had already been up, reading by the fire.
"Bonjour," she greeted politely before passing her on the way to the portrait door.
Dubois was a fellow nouveau-sang from Beauxbatons but Hermione didn't truly know her that well. They hadn't necessarily socialized in the same circles.
Well, Hermione had never been very social at all...
Oh, she'd tried desperately as a child but hadn't had much luck and was self-aware now to understand that she'd had quite an abrasive personality.
Her later years at Beauxbatons saw her make a few acquaintances with open-minded half-bloods, but with Grindelwald's war spanning since twenty-six, nothing had progressed any further than that. She did have a very good friend back home in Martinique but seeing as she was in the UK now, she doubted she would see him again.
"Attends! Est-ce que je peux marcher avec toi ? Si ça ne te dérange pas," Dubois asked while jogging to catch up. Hermione turned to her and nodded hesitantly.
"Écoute," Dubois- Géraldine started and Hermione looked her way curiously, prompting the girl to continue, "je sais qu'on n'a jamais été très proches auparavant, mais on pourrait essayer de le devenir?" she asked, giving her a pleading look. Hermione sympathized, so she agreed.
"Bien sûr, ça ne me dérange pas. Ce serait bien d'avoir une amie ici," she responded slowly, hoping this wouldn't bite her in the behind.
She was telling the truth. Hermione was already noticing the glamour of being a transfer student fade, they were quickly becoming 'other' in the eyes of the student population. It truly wouldn't hurt to have friends here, to watch each other's backs.
So, with that, they made their way together to the Great Hall.
Upon arriving, both girls entered the hall and seated themselves amongst the Gryffindor tables meant for elder students, helping themselves to some coffee and a flaky pastry each.
Hermione, feeling as if she was being watched, looked up but found no perpetrator. Her eyes, however, did find the boy at one of the Slytherin tables, reading a newspaper and drinking tea. This was Tom Riddle. He had been pointed out to her by practically every single person that spoke to her, asking if they were related.
What was Hermione to say? Yes?
They didn't know each other so that would be awkward. She had seen a picture of maman's cousin Tom in the manor they recently moved into—which was a whole other mess she currently did not want to think about—and maybe they looked a bit alike. As far as she knew, though, he hadn't had a son before being murdered earlier that summer.
She'd written to her maman regardless, telling her about this Tom Riddle. Until she knew for sure, however, she would try to avoid him to the best of her ability.
Turning to Géraldine, she requested her schedule to redirect her train of thought.
"Quel est ton emploi du temps aujourd'hui?"
Without missing a beat, Géraldine handed it over.
Hermione noted the rest of the week, for the most part, they had the same classes. Although, since each house year was divided into two groups, there were classes where Géraldine was in the opposite group that Hermione was in. She'd also taken almost all the classes Hermione had decided against.
Classes like Divination, Astronomy, and Care of Magical Creatures; instead of her own Arithmancy, Advanced Alchemy, and Magical Theory. Fortunately, it looked like they'd at least be together for Potions, Charms, and Wizarding Studies.
She handed the schedule back, finished her coffee and nodded to Géraldine to signal that she was ready to go. The hall was starting the fill up and she still wanted to get to class early. Rising from her seat, she bumped into someone as she looked down to grab her bag.
"Je suis dés-...I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she corrected herself halfway in English.
The boy she bumped into was very tall as he put his large hands on her shoulders to steady her, Hermione felt her face go hot.
She was also self-aware to know how awful with boys she was.
"No worries, an accident," the boy replied, rumbling in what Hermione had learned was a 'West-Country' accent. He then gave her a friendly lopsided smile that made her heart stutter.
"Hey, what's your name again? I'm Ron Weasley," he asked, releasing his hands from her shoulders and holding one out in greeting. She shook it, a little stunned and hoping to God he wouldn't notice that her voice was pitched a bit higher than it usually was.
"Hermione Granger-Riddle, a pleasure to meet you," she responded, mentally congratulating herself for not stuttering but still a bit self-conscious of her accent.
"Nice to meet you, Hermione. This bloke here is my mate Harry and hanging off him like a bowtruckle is my sister, Ginny."
She repeated greetings to both. While shaking Harry's hand, she noticed his complexion was only slightly lighter than her own and that he had stunning green eyes. Ginny was next and Hermione wasn't sure whether what she felt was insecurity or not, as the Weasley sister was truly lovely. She had a mischievous countenance, thousands of freckles on her face, and hair as bright as her brother's.
"Nice to meet you. Hermione, wasn't it?" she asked and Hermione nodded, struck for a moment, unsure of the pathetic prattle her heart gave.
She righted herself and turned to acquaint them with Géraldine. After all, it wouldn't do to be rude.
"This is my friend and fellow transfer, Géraldine Dubois," she introduced, gesturing to her companion, who greeted the three Gryffindors warmly before tugging on the sleeve of Hermione's robes, reminding her that they needed to go.
The two girls waved goodbye to the other three Gryffindors before heading out of the Great Hall and towards the dungeons.
It was just ten minutes to class start by the time they arrived in the potions lab, as they'd ended up having gotten lost in the maze that was the dungeons. They found seats together near the front and after taking them, they unpacked their textbooks, quills, and inkwells, before placing their cauldrons at their feet.
Tapping her fingers in a comforting tempo against the desk, she looked around the class.
Last week she hadn't known what the other house in the class had been because not many people decorated their robes with house colours and she hadn't known anyone well enough to make any guesses.
This week she recognized a few of the students, including Tom Riddle...so apparently, the other house was Slytherin.
Dipping her quill, she took out her schedule and scribbled a small 's' within the class block before hurriedly putting it away as Professor Slughorn arrived.
"Good morning class! I suspect you're all settled in for a good year. As you know last week's double block class was catch-up and review but starting this week, we will be looking closely at potions required for your NEWTS," he spoke loudly, causing Hermione to blink, having been caught off guard by his joviality. She had thought it was only to welcome new students last week, but apparently, it was a consistent personality trait.
"This term I will be pairing you in twos and I will give each pair a rare poison. With your partner, you will source your materials...legally," he chuckled as he side-eyed his Slytherins playfully, earning a few smirks.
Hermione's eyes widened incredulously.
"You will brew your poison, and record your process in the report. Additionally, with your report, you will also include a two-foot essay on the poison's purpose, properties and history," he stopped, watching the students look around at each other curiously.
"That's not all. You and your partner will also be brewing its cure, which I will not tell you what it is. You will discover and brew that cure, record your process in the report and like your poison, you will write another two-foot essay on the properties and history of said cure," he finished, amused at the few groans he heard.
Hermione gulped, nervously. She had absolutely no connections here in the UK. Depending on who her partner was, this could either be incredibly simple or needlessly difficult.
She waited as Slughorn went through his list of pairs and their poisons. Noting that Géraldine was paired with an Irma Fawley, she noticed also a bit too late that all Gryffindors were being paired with Slytherins.
Somehow, she knew where this was gonna end and she was correct because next Slughorn called her name.
"Miss Granger-Riddle, you will be paired with Mr. Riddle," he chimed, seemingly proud of himself as if he had just told a particularly funny joke.
"Your poison will be Angel's Trumpet Draught," he added amiably, turning to look between her and Tom Riddle.
"Of course, Professor," Hermione replied, nodding as she wrote down the name in her planner, distinctly hearing the other Riddle reply the same.
Meanwhile, her mind was blank.
'Merde,' she thought to herself. So much for avoiding him.
A/N: Enjoy bisexual disaster Hermione Granger.
Vague French Translations
1 - "Good Morning"
2- "Wait! I will walk with you if you don't mind"
3- "Listen"
4- "I know we have never been friends before, but maybe we can be? It's us against the whole school now"
5- "Of course, I don't mind, it would be nice to have a friend here"
6- " What's your schedule look like today?"