An: SLIGHT lime in this chapter and a bit of underage action, but nothing too serious.

Chapter 9 Flying Blind

Unlike the previous two times she traveled, Hermione stayed conscious… not that there was anything to stay conscious for. She was surrounded on all sides by black and silence and cold. The cold was the worst. It crept into her lungs and froze her from the inside. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move, she couldn't even think. All of her existence centered around the black and the ice that felt like it was slowly creeping into her skin.

When it felt like she would be forever stuck in icy limbo, there was warmth.

Hermione sucked in a breath and let the delicious hot air fill her and in that moment she decided that she would never complain about the heat ever again. With each breath she took the darkness around her unraveled. There was no other way to describe it. It was like someone took black yarn, grabbed a strand of it, and tugged until that strand and all those around it broke apart into thousands and thousands of individual colorful threads.

It was like seeing a rainbow for the first time, completely and utterly breathtaking.

The colors slowly started to make sense, that shade of blue was part of a window, that pale white was sunlight, the warm brown was the leather of a book, the gold on the spine were letters Beasts of the Wilds.

She blinked once, twice, and the world around her was clear. There was a young man holding the book, a young man she knew. "Tom."

He looked up from his book, his solid blue eyes placid.

"I have been expecting you."

His voice was different. A bit deeper, richer, it was not a man's voice yet but it was on its way. A loud whistle interrupted her musing and Hermione took in the rest of the space around her. She was in a train compartment.

"Where are we?" she asked. She had her suspicions, but one could never be too sure.

"Hogwarts Express, and before you ask I locked the compartment door before you appeared. No one can get in so you can relax."

Hermione wanted to do just that, but the slight chill that remained in the compartment reminded her of her nakedness.

"Er, Tom, do you have any-" he shut his eyes and waved his hand. Instantly, she was clothed in a simple robe. "Thank you… that was very impressive magic."

Tom shrugged. "I have been able to do it for years."

"You really need to learn how to take a complement," she mumbled and sank into the familiar cushions, basking in the warmth of the sun as it poured into the compartment. When she had thawed a bit more she spoke again, "What time is it?"

Tom looked back up from the book he had re-immersed himself in. "I assume you are asking for the date." It was a statement, Hermione didn't bother answering him. "It is nineteen thirty seven, September first... around three in the afternoon I would say."

"So, you are headed to Hogwarts then…" she mused.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

She rolled her eyes. "I was just thinking out loud." She looked him over carefully. "What year are you going into?" It was hard to tell; Tom had always been rather tall for his age (from what she could tell) and spoke well enough to easily fool anyone about his age if he didn't stretch the truth too much.

"My first."

She blinked in surprise. He looked about thirteen or so, he was developing early. She remembered reading somewhere that boys who developed earlier tended to be popular and well liked.

"Oh, you must be excited."

Tom shrugged. His nonchalance surprised her until he explained himself. "I expect it to be rather dull actually. I have already mastered the first year spells and the second. I have been working on third year material, but it seems to focus less on practicality and more on creature recognition so mostly I have been reading." There he paused, scanning her face quickly before speaking again. "I am rather eager to see the library though, from what you tell me there is none that can rival it."

At that Hermione smiled. "I have yet to see the library that could even come close."

"I suppose I will have to take your word for it until I can check for myself."

Hermione laughed. "You are so distrusting."

"And that amuses you?"

She grinned. "Yes, it does."

Tom stared at her intently. "I don't think I will ever understand you."

"Well if it makes you feel any better I don't think I will ever understand you either."

His lips twitched before falling back into his usual neutral expression. Outside the train whistled again, causing Tom and Hermione stare out the windows for a moment. "We don't have much time left," Tom said. "Perhaps ten minutes at most."

Hermione frowned and pulled the robe more securely around her shoulders. She did not relish the thought of going back into the cold and the black so soon after leaving it. Tom noticed the action and his brow furrowed.

"Is the cloth not comfortable? I would have brought something nicer but our time together is limited so I thought the conjured fabric would suffice."

She gave a weak smile. "It's fine Tom." He looked unsure, but before he could speak again she changed the subject. "What are you reading about?"

"Werewolves."

Memories flooded her. "One of my Professors was a werewolf."

He perked up at that. "Truly?"

Hermione nodded and proceeded to distract herself by telling stories of her third year to the curious boy, being careful to leave out names as she spoke. She had just finished talking about the unique tolerance to wolf bites that Animagi had when she felt shivers race down her spine.

"It's time."

Tom looked disappointed. "I suppose I will see you later."

How much later would it be? One year? Two? Ten?

"I suppose you will. Goodbye for now."

Tom nodded and stared deeply into her eyes as the cold slowly took over her body. The deep blue of his irises were the last thing to fade into the black as she traveled again.

It was dark. Hermione squinted but it was no use, it was pitch black. Not the endless black she saw when she traveled, but it was still dim. The next thing she noticed was the fact that she was on her side, on a rather comfortable… cushion? She blinked a few times to try and clear her vision and she noticed the crisp white sheets beneath her. A bed then, she identified and stroked her hand over the fabric.

"Mmmm."

It was the warning she got before an arm was thrown over her side and a hand mindlessly pawed at her breasts. Hermione had to hold back a scream and flinched so badly she fell out of the bed crashing painfully down onto the wooden floor.

"Ow," she hissed. Her hands and knees ached from the effort of trying to catch herself, she would bet very good money they were scraped.

"Tom?" A groggy voice called. "Did you fall out of bed?"

Hermione bit her tongue and her eyes darted around to find a suitable hiding place. Under the bed! It was her only option, she dropped down as low as she could, and wincing as her chest came in contact with the hard wood as she scrambled under the bedframe. The bedframe wasn't very high, but there was just enough space for her.

There was no dust or grime, to her immense relief, but there was a small pile of clothes to her right and her cheeks heated at the implication.

"Tom?" The voice called again. She- and it was a she- sounded confused. Hermione was sure her entire body was red. Tom? MY Tom? It was hard to think of the little boy she had come to know having sex… she assumed he was having sex at least. The evidence was overwhelming.

A door opened to her right letting a cloud of steam gush into the room. A second later a figure moved out of the cloud. From her angle she could only see a pair of large masculine feet as they walked over to the bed. She could count every hair on his legs he was so close. Her eyes traced a single droplet of water as it made its way down the thick column of flesh that made up his calf. All muscle, she thought, her mouth suddenly very dry.

"Pearl?" The voice sent shivers down her spine. "I heard you call."

Hermione heard shifting above her and let out a surprised wheeze when something pressed against her back. Please don't let them have heard! She prayed, clenching her teeth as the sharp thing, which she assumed was a spring, jabbed into her unprotected back.

"I thought…" she trailed off, unsure. "It's nothing."

Get off get off get off. Hermione mentally chanted, sighing in relief when Pearl finally scooted to the edge of the bed. A small, dainty, pale foot came into her field of vision, followed by another. Both feet were quickly covered by fabric… the bed sheets if Hermione wasn't mistaken, they were wrapped around her.

"You took a shower?" She sounded disappointed.

"I did tell you I had to leave in the morning." His voice was stern. No nonsense.

"Is there any way I can convince you to stay a while longer?" Hermione could almost hear the pout in her tone. "I could…" there was a quiet rustle and a towel fell into her line of vision-

Oh sweet Merlin.

Quickly followed by the fabric of the bed sheets-

Oh. Sweet. Merlin.

And Pearl getting down on her knees-

OH SWEET MERLIN!

And the sound of a low, strained, groan-

Hermione was ready to scream for them to stop. But Tom did it for her.

"Stop." He ordered tersely.

There was a quiet pop and the girl fell back and away from him, sitting down right in front of Hermione… Pearl had a rather plush bottom. Hermione almost felt self-conscious. The feeling quickly turned back to embarrassment at the sight of the purple-red bruises going down along the girls back.

"I have to leave. Go take a shower and let me get dressed in peace."

Pearl sighed but obediently rose to her feet and made her way over to the door to the bathroom, she hesitated only for a moment before disappearing inside. A minute later the shower started up. As soon as it did the door slowly closed on its own, a blue haze covering the wooden surface.

"Are you going to spend all day under there, Hermione?"

It felt like her insides had frozen and she swallowed heavily around the lump in her throat.

"I was rather hoping you wouldn't notice me here," she finally said.

"I saw you in Pearl's memories. Don't worry I altered them, she will never even realize you have been here."

Hermione sighed and slowly made her way out from under the bed wincing slightly as her back cracked.

"You shouldn't play with people's memories like that Tom."

"I can assure you my way is more gentle than most, and I doubt that she will miss those few minutes of her life."

A hand was thrust in front of her face and she gratefully took it, letting Tom pull her to her feet.

Her back buckled slightly and she fell forward into Tom. He caught her easily, holding her steady as her back twitched and throbbed. He smelt nice, like shampoo, soap, heat, and something else she couldn't identify, cologne perhaps?

"I think your girlfriend might weigh a thousand pounds." She finally hissed when her back finally calmed down to the point where she felt she could stand on her own.

Tom snorted. "She is not my girlfriend."

She frowned and was ready to scold him when she felt something press into her belly. Her eyes went round as coins.

Tom grimaced and took a step away from her. "I apologize, that has been happening a lot lately."

"You're hard." She squeaked, then she took a really good look at Tom. "You're naked!" She all but shrieked. Well that wasn't entirely accurate, the key to the vault still hung around his neck, but other than that, not a scrap of clothing.

He quirked an eyebrow. "So are you."

Well he had her there. "Well at least I have a good reason why." She grumbled, crossing her arms across her breasts, looking at everything in the room but him.

"So do I. If anything I should be offended that you have intruded on my personal time… I wasn't expecting you."

She glanced quickly in his direction before going back to studying the wall. "You weren't?"

"No, you were supposed to appear next week."

She frowned, only just noticing as magic washed over her skin as she thought. Tom had clothed her again. This time it was a full outfit instead of just a robe. "I think I know what might have happened."

"I would like to hear it, but I think you should go."

She looked sharply over at him. He was wearing pants this time and fastening his belt in place before picking up a very nice looking button down shirt.

"Why?"

"Pearl, she should be getting out of the shower soon. I locked the door but I don't want to have to explain why."

"Where should I go? I don't even know where… or when I am."

"You are in the Leakey Cauldron, second floor. It is nineteen forty one. Go down stairs, take an open table, and get something to eat. I will join you shortly."

It rankled that she was being ordered around, but her stomach gave an ominous rumble. "Don't take too long."

He nodded glancing over at the bathroom door, "Hurry."

Hermione made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her firmly. She glanced up and down the hallway, mildly relieved there was no one there to see her. She was sure her hair was a mess, and she was positive her cheeks were still flushed. What would people think about that?

Well I have been called a whore before. She thought with a delicate sniff. She thrust her chin into the air and walked, proud as a peacock, down into the main pub. Almost instantly she felt like there were a thousand pairs of eyes on her. She tried not to look down at her feet or cross her arms across her stomach as she glanced around nervously for a place to sit. Hermione felt dirty, like some brand was plastered across her forehead that she couldn't get rid of. She could feel the phantom touch of Tom poking into her belly. She shivered slightly at the memory.

But no one gave her so much as a second glance. She relaxed slightly. Really what had she been expecting? She was being illogical. People came and went so often why would anyone notice one teenage girl wandering about? With a small sigh she wandered over to an empty table by the stairs leading up to the guest rooms. As soon as Tom made his way down she would know about it.

A waitress came over a few minutes later and Hermione soon found herself stuffing bits of melon, pineapple, grapes, and blueberries into her mouth with alarming speed. She had tried a bit of bacon before, but her stomach had turned so violently at the taste that she had hastily pushed it aside. Hadn't Tom mentioned something about her preferring fruit after she traveled? She would keep that in mind for next time.

She had just finished off a sizeable chunk of watermelon when a rather pretty girl came down the stairs. There was something about the way she was walking that caught Hermione's attention, a smooth looseness to her stride and an astonishing fluidity to her movements that held her captivated. The woman traded a few words with the man behind the counter and passed him a key. Through the buzz of conversation around her Hermione caught the tail end of their conversation.

"Will that be everything, Miss?"

"Yes it will."

"Will your… companion be joining you?"

"Not at the moment, he had business to take care of."

Hermione eyed the girl critically. She was willowy, tall, and moved with that serene grace Hermione envied. Her hair was a deep chestnut and very curly, but her curls were neat and well ordered, almost like a doll's hair, and her face was tiny and cute. But her eyes were large and, if she had to pick a color to describe them, she could call them mother of- Pearl. There was almost an audible click as her mind made the connection.

This was Tom's… lover?

The thought made her ill. He shouldn't be having sex with that. She looked like she would break under the pressure of a stray gust of wind. Not to mention she looked young. She would have to give Tom a very stern talking to about underage sex. Did he even know about contraceptive charms?

She groaned and buried her face into her hands. She did not relish the thought of giving the future dark lord the 'talk'.

He doesn't seem to need it. She thought darkly as she remembered the hickey trail that went down along Pearl's back. Whatever had happened to the little boy who flinched every time she tried to touch him?

"Hermione?"

She blinked and looked up from the empty plate she had been staring at.

Tom was sitting across from her, his dark eyes contemplative as he observed her. He was devastatingly handsome, his hair, still slightly damp, gleamed ebony in the light, his skin was smooth and pale, and his eyes glittered. It was as if there was a whole universe behind those eyes, and if you could get close to him, you could see it. Hermione caught sight of a few women sending coy looks over in his direction, and she really couldn't blame them.

"Well at least you have your trousers on this time."

His lips twitched into a brief frown before he fell into the neutral expression he always seemed to use with her.

"Indeed I do-" he slowly looked her up and down "-and so do you. If we are done pointing out the obvious now, tell me how you could be early. I was under the impression that the dates you gave me were complete, and unchanging."

Hermione leaned back in her seat. "Do you remember that night at the museum?"

"Vaguely."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, I only had a chance to view one of the memories, but according to my future self every time another version of me goes back in time, the dates of my traveling alter."

Tom frowned. "You didn't think to tell me this sooner?"

"I didn't know about it sooner. It's only been about twenty minutes for me, Tom."

He sighed, sounding rather frustrated, then spoke slowly, as if his focus were being pulled in two different directions. "Well now that we know, we can do something about it."

Hermione frowned. There was something in his tone that put her on edge. He doesn't like that I can just pop in at any time… what are you hiding Tom? She didn't dare ask, this Tom was a master of the mind if his recent trick with Pearl was any indication, and she was all but defenseless. At the moment she had no wand, and no practical skill with occlumency. I have to be careful with my suspicions until I can learn occlumency.

She tensed when Tom reached into his pocket, only to relax when he pulled out the black leather diary she had seen on him when they had first met. He flipped through it for a moment before he found what he had been looking for. "I don't see anything about you deviating from the times you gave me before this."

"But why is it changing now?" She wondered out loud.

"I couldn't tell you." He shut the diary with a snap. He was obviously bothered by his lack of knowledge. Hermione saw his jaw clench and his fingers drum restlessly over and over again against the table. Hermione felt his frustration.

"I wish I had access to the Hogwarts' library. It's one of the most extensive libraries in the world; there must be something there about what is happening to me." She sighed.

"There isn't. I dare say I exhausted all of their books on time travel and found nothing coming close to your situation."

"All of them?"

"It wasn't that impressive a feat. There were only a few on the main shelves and for once they had better information than the ones in the restricted section."

Hermione frowned at him. "You shouldn't be going into the restricted section."

"I always have permission."

"You still shouldn't be in there."

His eyes narrowed "Any particular reason?"

Her jaw clenched. "Just a lot of dangerous information."

"Information is never dangerous Hermione."

"It is if you put it to use."

"Are you trying to imply something?"

Before Hermione could reply the waitress who had been serving her came over. She held the tray she had been using close to her chest and her foot tapped in a nervous rhythm. "Pardon me, but I have your bill…"

Tom glared at her and the girl flinched badly. His expression gentled and when he spoke his voice was low and smooth. "Thank you, Martha. You can put it on my tab."

The girl relaxed. "Yes Mr. Riddle. Have a good day Mr. Riddle."

"You have a tab?" Hermione asked when the girl had left.

"Technically it's yours, but you gave me permission to use that and anything else I might need… if it makes you feel any better you gave me a monthly draw limit."

Hermione had to fight a smile. "I gave you an allowance?"

Tom's returning smile was dark. "I prefer to think of it as payment for services rendered. But we have wandered away from our original conversation."

Hermione shook her head. "I have no idea what we can do about it without careful research, and if what you say is true about the Hogwarts' library, then I am not quite sure where I could possibly find information about what I am going through."

"Well… there is always the Department of Mysteries. But I doubt you want to go traipsing about the Ministry of Magic. According to the law you would be locked away in one of their rooms, never to be seen again if they caught wind that you were a time traveler."

Hermione shuddered at the thought. "And the Paradox chasers might be there."

Tom smirked. "I wouldn't worry about them."

"Why?"

"I have come up with a way to keep them chasing their own tails for months… perhaps years. They shouldn't be a problem."

"How?"

Tom shrugged. "It was a simple matter. I found a spell that would allow me to mimic your magical signature enough to confuse them. It would not hold up against the securities of a place like Gringotts, but the amulet they are using to track you is rather inefficient once you know how it works."

"So where are they exactly?"

"As of right now they are in Albania."

"Albania?"

"Yes. I cast the signature spell on various trees. As soon as they approach a tree with the spell attached to it the spell will fade and the next will activate and they will start the search anew."

"Are you sure it will work?"

Tom frowned. "Very sure. Really Hermione, it's a simple matter to keep two bumbling Unspeakables out of our business."

"You shouldn't underestimate people."

His eyebrow rose. "I have managed to keep them off of our trail for years with little effort. They have changed neither their methods nor their approach, I feel confident that that will not change."

"But-"

"Do not worry about it Hermione." There was suggestion laced in his tone, and she felt her shoulders relax slightly. She felt calmer.

"What did you do?"

He leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. "You were growing agitated, so I cast a calming charm on you. Mothers use that particular spell on fussy infants."

If she wasn't so calm she might have taken offence to be referred to as an infant. As it was all she wanted to do was relax in a comfortable chair for a while or take a long nap. She yawned loudly making Tom frown. "Perhaps I put too much power into the spell." He murmured as Hermione rested her head on her arms and shut her eyes.

"Maybe," Hermione agreed, and let herself drift off.