'Cause when the roof caved in and the truth came out,
I just didn't know where to go.
But when I become a star we'll be livin' so large,
I'd do anything for you!
So tell me girl;
Mmm whatcha say?
Mmm that you only meant well?
But 'course ya did.
Mmm whatcha say?
Mmm that it's all for the best?
Of course it is…

Disclaimer: All rights and characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros™. Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline. Song belongs to Jason Derulo (Whatcha Say)©.

WARNING: Mild language.


Tom was dreading breakfast that day.

What if everything had changed?

What if Hermione wasn't… Hermione anymore? What if she was some sort of Slytherin bitch who's always all over him all the time? What if she actually wasn't in Slytherin altogether?!

How could he have been so stupid!?

Going back in time, to make sure a girl that went back in time without his advice ANYWAY would keep him close to heart! She'd explained the story! He knew what happens! What the hell was he doing?! Screwing up the future? The past? The present?

Seems that way.

When I said he was dreading it? Yeah, he was dreading it even more when Headmaster Dippet declared he had some unfortunate news.

"Claire Renee, of third year; Ravenclaw, has unfortunately been… petrified."

Tom and Hermione were the only people sat in that hall that knew exactly what that meant. Tom sat up straighter in his seat and Hermione stared at him wide-eyed from the other end of the table.

"She was found the early hours of this morning, in the Library. She was found cardboard-stiff with her glasses and cleaner cloth still in her hands. This indicates that it must have been a lightening-fast thing. If anyone knows anything, anything at all, about this incident, any teacher here will be interested in hearing what you have to say."

He smiled in spite of the situation and shuffled on the spot uncomfortably.

"We aren't exactly sure who," or what "caused this, or whether it was an accident or not," or not "but for now, we are recommending you write to your parents and guardians, and try to get home safely as quickly as possible–,"

"NO!"

Tom was on his feet when Hermione looked over to him. His plate was on the floor, smashed to pieces, and his wand was grasped in his bony white fists. His face looked pale, too, as though all the blood had drained from their like red paint. His mouth was curled back over his teeth into a snarl and his grey eyes were wild with the fire that made Hermione's soul cry out to him. His eyebrows were knit so hard it looked as though he only had one.

Dippet looked startled, above all. He looked down at Tom like he was something out of this world.

"I will not," Tom exclaimed, angrily through gritted teeth, "go back to that scruff of an orphanage more than a second before I have to!"

Dippet shook his head apologetically. "I am sorry, Tom, but you will need to. The safety of the entire school is at stake."

"BUT. I. WILL NOT. GO. BACK THERE!"

Hermione's heart sped up, as Tom's began to have palpitations. His hands hurt at the grasp he was gripping his wand, and the lump rising in his throat was hurting. A lot.

Dippet shook his head in the same manner as before. He got down from the platform he was stood on, and over to Tom. He put his hand on his shoulder, and opened his mouth to speak some words of comfort, but Tom shook him off furiously and stepped back as though he may catch some contagious disease.

"Why touch me?! I'm just a poor orphan boy! Half-blood and disgusting! I'd rather get killed by whatever it is running around this school than go back to that orphanage!"

A siren went off in Hermione's head. Woop, woop, it rang, too much information! Too much information!

"I'M IN MORE DANGER THERE THAN I EVER COULD BE HERE!!!"

With that, Tom stalked past Professor Dippet in a raging rampage, and ripped through the doors and up the staircase. The doors slammed shut behind him like an indignation thunder, and everyone in the hall began whispering.

Hermione gulped.

If her nightmares weren't bad enough, she knew one more thing that would haunt them tonight…

…the sight of Tom's hot tears before he'd left the hall.

It was quite dark, considering it was almost nine o'clock in the morning. The candles in the hallways didn't make much of a difference. Only added an orange glare to the grey mood clouding overhead like a storm.

Hermione found Tom in an empty potions room. She'd practically searched every possible place he could privately be, and this was her last choice. She'd quietly tip-toed in, and searched for about 5 minutes, before she heard a sniffling coming from the cupboard at the back. She stood still, listening hard, not even daring to breathe. The sniffles came again, followed by pained sobs. Hermione's heart broke, and she quietly made her way over to Tom's hiding place. The door was locked, of course. But it was nothing a little Alohamora couldn't fix. Tom was turned away from her, fingering his wand and hugging his knees – brought up to his chin. He didn't even bother to look who it was. The only effort he made was to close his eyes and tighten his grip on his wand and knees. He began rocking back and forth and how much he reminded her of Harry at that point sickened her to her stomach. But she couldn't focus on herself right now.

She slowly knelt down behind him and gently took him in her arms. He didn't push her away or cower away from her. He just fell into her lap and let her cradle her head and whisper absent assurement into his ear. He knew none of her words were true – she didn't have to go back to the Orphanage. She had no idea what it was like. But the comfort of the lies still helped loosen the knot in his stomach. Not untie it completely, but loosen it.

Tom had stopped weeping long before they broke away. He had just liked to hold her there, to have her hold him, a few tears slipping from her eyes, too. He didn't know why she felt sad for him. Or sorry, even. He needed no remorse. He liked to think of them just as a few unshed tears, that needed to be let out before they over flooded at the most unfortunate of moments.

When they let each other go, they sat kneeling in front of each other, just looking into the other's glassy eyes. This was home for Tom. Hermione. She was his truth, his saviour, his hero, his shelter…

Hermione searched for some unknown specimen in Tom's grey pools. Whatever it was, she never found it. But this wasn't Voldemort sat before her. This was her Tom. Intensified by one-hundred times. Her Tom was… well… let's just say butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"Hermione," he whispered suddenly, his voice breaking.

She smiled slightly at the use of her forename. "Tom." She whispered back.

Tom shook his head and looked to his knees. "I'm sorry you saw me like this."

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No, Tom. Don't be." Somehow, her brain ticked over for more things to say, things she never would have dreamed of saying before. But her mouth clamped shut, as though all she'd already said was enough.

Tom sniffed again, and Hermione was afraid that he may have been crying again, but he lifted his head and smiled at her. She smiled back absently, half-unaware of what she was doing.

Unexpectedly, Tom reached out to her. He'd already found his object of interest before she'd even registered that he'd moved.

He took her Time-Turner gently from her robes, but never removed it from her neck. He smoothed over the grooves of the metal with his thumb and smiled down at it, as though some sort of beautiful child, or long lost family member. Hermione saw no need in rejecting. He wasn't doing anything worth protesting about. Not yet, anyway.

He sighed and dropped it, and it swung back into Hermione's chest, and she left it to dangle as Tom let it be. He looked back up to her eyes and something other than understanding swam in the chocolate. Something like… hope. It might have been hope. That's what Tom thought it was.

Or maybe it was reflecting from his own eyes onto hers. And he was seeing his own emotions through her eyes.

Is that what that expression really meant?

She was still Hermione. His Hermione. Not some Slytherin bitch, like he'd feared. She seemed to know him like she'd known him before. No details of anything spared. He uttered a silent prayer of thanks to no one in particular.

Hermione spoke before his brain had clicked out from his daydream.

"They beat you at the Orphanage don't they?"

...

"Tom, you've got to tell Professor Dumbledore!"

"He's been there himself. He's seen the children there. And he didn't even raise an eyebrow or ask a single question!"

"I doubt that. Tom, have you seen these bruises!? It's just completely outrageous!"

"Not exactly. I tend to avoid looking into a mirror afterwards…"

"THOMAS!"

"WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY, GRANGER?!"

"I want you to take this seriously –,"

"SERIOUSLY?! And you think I've just been sitting around drinking Butter Beers this whole time?!"

"No, Tom. That's not what I meant –,"

"Come off it, Granger. You can cut this I-Know-Everything act! If there's one thing you don't know, it's the crap that I go through at that damn orphanage!"

"Judging by these bruises Tom, I get the jist of it!"

"SHUT UP!"

"TOM–,"

"IT'S RIDDLE TO YOU!"

When a bud blossoms, it becomes a flower. When a petal falls, it drops to the floor. When a leaf trembles, it shakes the whole plant. When the stem snaps, the plant dies.

When a foetus is born, it becomes a baby. When a baby grows, it becomes a toddler. A toddler becomes a child. A child becomes a teenager. A teenager becomes a young adult. A young adult becomes an adult. An adult becomes a pensioner. A pensioner becomes dust.

But what if that wasn't the way things worked? What if the world was completely opposite? What if everyone but him changed in such ways?

It's possible. When one person dies, three more people – somewhere in the world – are born. When a plant dies, the seeds fall, and ten more plants grow.

The world works in mysterious ways. You could take a child from an awful family, and put it with another one, and within a week that child will be dead. You could take the stem of a dead plant, and re-plant it, and within a week, that plant will have grown again. You could take the richest man in the world, and he could be lonely and unhappy. But you could take the poorest man in the world, and he would be happy.

Is there a God? If so, why do the plants die? But if not, why do ten more grow in its place? If so, why do babies die? But if not, why do the people responsible for murder get locked away? If so, why are the rich men selfish – but lonely? But if not, why are the poor men "richer" than anyone else – and happy?

Tom picked up his wand, and stormed out of that cupboard and made his way towards the girl's bathroom…

N/A: OK, so I know the ending was a little boring and possibly VERY confusing! XD And I know the subject of the "past/future" changing hasn't been answered yet, but it will do at some point! I promise! :D And I'm SO sorry at how short this is!

Your reviews = love.

You're all amazing! :) I'm so glad you like my story so far, and I'm so happy with all the support you're giving me.

Please review this one, next update soon!

Kelly xxx