A/N: I began this story about half a year ago and have totally disregarded it. At the time, I was in the mood for reading some Tom/Hermione-loving, but my Internet wasn't working and I didn't have the patience to argue in french (yet again) with my landlady. So I just wrote my own story. The concept is nothing new. Hermione travels back in time and meets a young Voldemort. There probably will be violence, non-con, dub-con and such later on in the story, so be warned! Of course, everything belongs to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 1: When One Door Closes..
They shut the door upon us, before we could enter the room.
And it's not the first time.
Me, Harry and Ron are standing at the other side of the that blasted door, up to our knees in our shared solitude and uncomprehension as we are again left out of the planning. All we ever have time to see are alarmed faces. Then, as usual, Harry gets upset and Ron tries to calm him with confused reasoning. I try to push away my frustration, turning a deaf-ear to Harry's and Ron's loud voices, just thinking the situation through while a faint crease paints my forehead. They, as in the Order, have not even tried to justify their actions. The door simply closes, a spell is thrown over it to prevent eavesdropping and then, after the time it takes to do whatever the hell it is that they are doing, the door opens again. With Harry sputtering perfectly reasonable nonsense about how we are all over seventeen and therefore allowed to be included in the discussions. Then they, uncomfortably so, tells us that we can't. Nothing the more, nothing the less.
They never say it does not concern us. Then again, of course it concerns us. Here we have, the boy who lived, anticipating his final call for that final superhero-act. One would have to be a simpleton to not see that is it about us, or specifically – Harry. Most likely, something undeniably agitating is in store for him, and no one dares to tell the poor bloke. If it is out of moral values or to oblige fate, either way - he and thus also we - are not to be included.
"Easy mate, I'm upset too, but it's not like we can do anything about it," Ron sighs from his spot on the staircase.
"They can't do this to us!" Harry yells in return, not listening. "We're all of age and and.. and I'm more included in this war than any of the others! I'm the one that have to face Voldemort!"
..It's the same harangue as usual. I love Harry, but for a boy that's been through an awful much, he can be terribly repetative.
"Harry. I know. Everyone knows. You're the chosen one. And even though I don't agree with their treatment of us, there have to be a reason for it. They wouldn't do this to us out of mere spite. You have to be logical about this."
The boy who lived looks down at the floor, sighs and lets the arms he's been holding at the sides fall down.
"Hermione, you don't get it.. or maybe you do, I don't know.. I HAVE been logical about it. That's what troubles me – the only reason they won't let us in on their conversation is because they don't want to worry me. There's something horrible going on that they won't tell me about. But shouldn't I have the right to know?"
Ron grows pale.
"You don't think they would do that to Harry do you?" he asks with his face turned towards me. "I mean.. He's like the last hope. They would tell Harry if it was important, wouldn't they?"
I let out a breath, folding my arms.
"I don't know Ron. Sometimes it can be more human to not to tell a person something."
"BUT.." Harry bursts but then decides to quiet down. "The uncertainty of it all," he adds, muttering, "That's what's going to kill me." He sits down next to Ron on the stairs. He is going to go over to being silent and gloomy now, going into himself and fruitlessly ponder things further. I don't blame him though. I hate not knowing something, but knowing and at the same time not knowing something important that most likely concerns me – I'd be bound to go crazy.
With a "good night", Harry and Ron soon leaves their seat on the stairs to attend sleep. Not that they are going to recieve it anyway. Often I see them both come down for breakfast with dark circles under their eyes, circles not much unlike my own. I also have trouble sleeping, I believe it to be a natural consequence of the war.
I go to look for a book to read in the little library of Grimmauld Place, when I can feel my arm being tugged at. It is Professor Snape, held back by an angry Remus. When Snape has my attention he quickly lets go of my arm and with a pointed look tells Remus to do the same with his. When I open my mouth to speak he quickly silence me with a spell, thus making my face crumble in confusion. He points at the door leading to the bathroom and with an ambivalent nod from Remus, I enter it, being the curious creature that I am. They follow behind me and closes the door. The bathroom is smaller than I remember it to be and is crowded with three full grown up persons in it. I can see the uneasiness of the two men and have the instict feeling of letting out a laugh. Which I don't, even with the silencing charm. Remus back is pressed up against the sink and directly in front of him, stands Snape, practically in the bathtub. His greasy hair has gotten caught up by the yellow drape - stuck by the electricity. I, on the other hand, are basically forced to sit on the toilet in the corner. The image is too bizarre.
"So what did you say that you wanted?" I ask, rediscovering my mute state. With a lazy wave of the hand, Snape releases me from it. I harkle and repeat the question. Remus is looking from Snape to me and back with a worried look which origin I am reluctantly willing to find out.
"Hermione, I'm sure that you of all people understand that we've had our reasons for not sharing certain things with you three. The war is hard on all of us and it's not easy to say.."
Snape rolls his eyes and interrupts: "Enough of this sentimental nonsense," he says in his deep, dry voice, "I'm perfectly sure that Miss Granger understands the weight of which we are all put under." He turns towards me. "The reason that we've so unceremoniously have dragged you into this bathroom Miss Granger, is that new information about the Dark Lord has come to surface. Important information. You would not by any chance, know of this information of which I speak of, would you?"
I look at him, puzzled. Both him and Remus are staring at me intensely, as if checking my reaction to his words.
"No," I say, looking emptily at Snape's hair which is still glued to the yellow drape. As if hopig to find the answer there. Snape's face doesn't betray any emotions and he continues as before while Remus is looking as worried as ever.
"I believe - and Remus half-agrees with me-," the blackhaired man look at his forner enemy who simply shakes his shoulders. "-that it is better to let you know the danger of which you're put under so that you can begin to prepare.."
"And let me just say Hermione, that we will do our best.." Remus interrupts, putting an hand on my shoulder and squeezing it a little too hard, making me flinch.
"For goodness sake dog, let me finish!" I jump at the sound. Thinking I've never seen Snape quite this emotional. Not that he has reached a state of humaness yet.. but still..
Remus opens his mouth as if to say something, but he isn't able to, because then I interrupt the both of them.
"Why are you telling me this? I mean.. why not Harry or Ron? Why are you telling me this?"
Snape sighs.
"As I've been trying to tell you Miss Granger, this is not a matter that concerns them. Letting them in on this conversation would only complicate things further, seeing as they are both of the impulsive kind.." Remus and I send him a warning glare and he rolls his eyes, "..either way. I hope you understand that this, which I'm about to say, can only stay between the three of us. To the others, this meeting has never taken place. Agreed?"
I nod eagerly. Just wanting him to spit it out already.
"It's seems that the Dark Lord's focus has been much different than he has let on. Mr. Potter, while still in lethal danger, is only his second target. It would seem, Miss Granger.." he exhales and looks me stintly in the eye "..that you are his first."
For a second I can only stare at him. I hold my breath until my lungs clench in pain and just then I release it. Feeling unable to functioning completely.
"What do you mean?" I ask him. Since it's seems like the only reasonable thing to say.
Remus answers this time.
"It would seem that the Dark Lord has taken a personal interest in you, Hermione. The origin of that, we can not be sure of. But we will do our best to protect you and make sure that he can't approach you under any given circumstances."
I just look at him. My brown eyes wide in surprise.
"But.. Why? What.. I mean. What is Harry? I'm not really.. I mean I'm.." I close my mouth, seeing as I've suddenly switched language and conquered gibberish.
"Mr. Potter is simply an obstacle for him. You - are his goal."
"So he wants to kill me more than Harry? Is that what you're saying? Because excuse me sirs, but that doesn't make any sense what so ever!" I yell in a pitch voice and raise from the toilet seat. They hush me as if I'm attracting attention, which I am not, seeing as they've put up a silencing charm on the door.
"Why? That's all I need to know. Why?" I turn my hands, palms flat up in the air in an exhausted gesture.
"We can not be sure, Miss Granger. It does not seem as if he wishes to kill you, in fact he has declared that no one is to harm you. You're to be captured and taken to him when he has killed Harry, that is his plan."
Slowly, I sit down again. Muttering: "Probably so he can have the pleasure of killing me himself, that stupid, snakefaced bastard."
Remus gives a hint of a smile, but Snape remains in his serious mood (-as if he has an other?).
"Miss Granger.."
"..It's still doesn't make any sense," I continue. "Are you sure you're not mistaken?"
"Quite. Miss Granger, please take my advice and do not transfer this information to Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. Knowing would not benefit them in any way." His tone is demanding. He has his bony hand stretched out and is moving it up and down, as if beating a drum, to the tact of the syllables. Like he wants to hammer the words into my head.
I question his words, in the moment they seem wrong. Of course I should share this knowledge with my two best friends! But then I wonder.. Seeing as, Professor Snape said, they would not benefit from it. Probably the opposite. Harry would find a way to blame himself, being the martyr he is and Ron.. Ron would be unbearably overprotective. No, I shall not tell them. Not now. Not when only suffering can come from it.
I still can not believe that it really is me, Professor Snape are referring to. That I am Voldemort's number one target. It doesn't scare me though. Simply because I have yet to have time to let it sink in. I am and am going to be, objective about this. Come what may, I am to remain Hermione Granger. Muggleborn extraordinaire. The brighest witch of her age. All that and more.
I be damned if I let that snakefaced bastard catch me.