A/N: A giant ninja monkey from outer space kidnapped me and forced me to peel hundreds of bananas, and I finally escaped, breaking both legs in the process. I was forced to claw my way to a ship and had to manually steer my way back to Earth. I literally just crashed into the roof of my house, and with my legs still broken; I proceeded to drag myself into my computer chair so I could type/post the next chapter of this story. /
…
Okay, maybe not. XD The real story? Summer got the better of me. My friends planned event after event, I got scabies or something from one of my friends(coughPAIGEcough), and I reunited with my old friend from Elementary school. Oh…
…and my main computer crashed and needs a new motherboard which won't happen for another month so I am forced to use my brother's slow arsed computer but I can hardly get on because it's football season and my dad is the leader thingy of this weird fantasy football league don't ask. Then school started! Yay for happy drama fun times of fail!
But now, I bring you the highly anticipated…CHAPTER ONE!! (That first thing was prologue…) :3
Disclaimer: I own an mp3 player full of Tom Riddle pics. Nothing more.
There, hanging from her neck, was her time turner, spinning violently. Before Hermione could react, she was engulfed in a ball of white light.
She Loves the Rain
Chapter One:
1944
The blinding light faded quickly, and it was only a few seconds before she reached the ground that Hermione even realized she was falling. But before she could try to save herself, she hit the ground, and didn't stir for at least an hour.
During that hour, dark, heavy clouds filled the sky, and lightning began to flash with earsplitting thunder quick behind each bolt. It was a terrifying storm; one that was sure to keep everybody inside by a toasty fire for quite some time.
Besides, it wasn't the loudness of the storm that woke our dear Hermione, oh no. It was when the first drops of rain began to fall from the sinister sky that she finally began to show signs of life.
The first drop hit her nose, and she scrunched her face. Another hit her hand and two others fell near her mouth. She was squirming around on the cold ground, and when the rain really started to come down, she opened her eyes and sat up quickly just as a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky.
The rain began to fall even heavier, and it wasn't more than a minute later that Hermione was soaked to the bone. She stood shakily, still a bit dizzy from the fall, and squinted into the thick sheets of rain. A faint, dark outline of Hogwarts castle was barely visible, and Hermione sighed with relief; at least she was home. Harry was probably in the castle, waiting for her. Or…was he?
This thought made the disheveled witch stop, mid step. Was Harry even alive? Or did Voldemort get the best of him? There was only one way to find out. She pushed forward, through the storm, jumping every time there was a loud rumbling from the sky.
As she got closer to the castle, Hermione realized something odd; there were no people. No bodies. No litter. Just…grass. When she had left the battle, there were dead bodies and people everywhere as well as chunks of the castle and other debris. This lead her to another scary thought…
…was she even in her own time? Did she go forward? If so…how many years? What had she missed?
Forcing the mind numbing thoughts out of her head, she trudged on, until she was standing at the foot of the front steps, shivering from the cold and wet. She hesitated, left foot resting on the first stair. Did she really even want to go inside?
Steeling herself for whatever she would find, Hermione walked the rest of the way, and stopped at the large wooden doors. She knew they were probably locked, but she tried opening them anyways; first just pushing, then a few spells. They still wouldn't budge.
"Guess I'll knock, then…" she muttered. Raising a numb hand to the door, Hermione knocked; once, twice, and again. She stood for little over a minute, getting impatient and extremely irritated from standing in the rain for so long. (Not that she didn't like rain; she was just very, very cold.)
The door finally opened, and Hermione was about to tell off the person for being so slow to answer, when she stopped dead. There, in the middle of the doorway looking completely baffled was Albus Dumbledore; with auburn hair and beard.
I haven't gone forward…I've gone back!
It was then that Hermione promptly fainted.
TmrHgTmrHgTmrHgTmr
"So now father tells me we will be spending the rest of the summer in France..."
Twitch.
"…and we'll be on a private beach…"
Twitch.
"…no muggles or filth for miles around!"
Twitch.
"Tom? Tom are you listening?"
Twitch.
"What's wrong with your eye?"
Not many people knew that when Tom Riddle's left eye twitched, he was very, very annoyed, and since so many things annoyed Tom, it often looked as though he had a funny little twitch. But nobody dare ask about it, because the last time somebody did, they ended in St. Mungo's for a month.
"I'm fine, Malfoy." he hissed. "Look, why don't you go over to the Apothecary and get our potions supplies. I need to take care of some business elsewhere."
The blonde nodded, and hurried off down the street. Tom watched him go, glad to finally get rid of the stupid oaf. He could not stand it when that spoiled little brat bragged about everything he didn't, and couldn't, have; nice vacations to exotic places, a huge mansion, parents, and a massive library filled to the brim with old books and tomes.
Tom fumed about this all the way to his 'business elsewhere', which turned out to be browsing the books in a dusty shop on the far side of Diagon Alley, away from the bustling crowds.
This old bookshop(Tom didn't really know the name, for the outside of the store was faded.) had books stacked everywhere; squeezed in all of the shelves, stacked in the corners on the floor, piled in front of the pay counter, and the store seemed endless. It went at least four house lengths back, and there were three different stories. He primarily liked the store because of the lack of people. Each time he visited there were maybe two other customers and a few odd cats sitting on some of the bookcases.
Tom often sat in the store for hours in the summertime, reading book after book, partly because he couldn't afford them, and also because it was such an ideal place to sit and read; plenty of light and silence. Tom even had a spot that he sat at regularly. It was a windowsill on the third floor, near the muggle book section.
The store owner, Tobais Tidd, knew him by now, and would occasionally suggest a few titles here and there. He even offered to let Tom take a book for free each week if he dusted the shop on the weekends, which Tom gratefully accepted. He now had at least five new books hidden away in his trunk at the orphanage.
"Good morning, Tom!" called Tobais from behind a stack of books resting on the front counter. "How long are you staying today?"
Tom plastered on his usual award winning(fake) smile. "Not long today, Tobais. I've actually come in to buy."
There was small squeak as Tobais poked his small head out from between the books. "Really? Good gracious; never thought I'd live to see the day…"
Tom hid his smirk. "I recently came into some, ah…inheritance money."
"Inheritance? Is your father dead?"
"He passed away, just last week. Very sick, could barely get out of bed the past two months."
"Oh dear…" said Tobais, his large eyes round and glassy. "I'm very sorry. I hope you're holding up well."
"Oh, I assure you, I'm doing just fine." said Tom, smiling grimly. "My father and I were…not exactly what you would call 'close'."
"What a shame, what a shame. The bond between a father and son is a great thing…"
Twitch.
"…well, anyways, go on and find yourself some books. I'll give you two, for the price of one."
"You are too kind, Tobais." Tom walked up the stairway with chuckles sounding behind him. He placed a hand in the pocket of his robes, pleased to here the clinking of galleons. For the first time in his life, he had his own money to spend.
And it was kind of like inheritance money. His father did die, but not by an illness as Tobias may have thought. Tom killed him, along with his grandparents. It wasn't that hard to do once he found out where they lived. He had also acquired a nifty little ring from his Uncle, who was being held on trial for the murders sometime in the near future.
After killing his only surviving parent, he had searched the house until he found a few interesting items; pictures(one of his mother), a family tree, and a lot of financial records. Which he sent right to Abraxas Malfoy, who had his father take care of everything. (Malfoy did have one use…)
Tom would have done everything himself, but he wasn't the best with financial dealings, and it was easier just to let Malfoy open an account for him and get the muggle money turned into galleons and such. (Besides, he didn't exactly like the goblins who worked at Gringotts.)
He was actually quite content now, knowing that if any of his plans backfired on him, which they wouldn't, he would at least have enough money to live off of for a few years time.
Tom had already reached the third floor, and was scanning the book shelves for something interesting. He wandered through the muggle books, not caring if anybody saw, because nobody important ever came into this store and therefore he would have no chance of getting caught with a filthy muggle book in his hands.
He only came to this section when he was looking for something entertaining to t read. Witches and wizards who tried to write entertaining novels usually wrote about what it would be like to be a muggle. Most children brought up in a magical surrounding found these quite fun to read, but Tom, having lived like a regular muggle for eleven years, found it extremely boring.
It was much more exciting to read books by muggle authors trying to write about magic, or what they thought it would be like to have magical abilities. Tom found some of the ideas they came up with quite amusing. He scanned the rows, his eyes carefully reading the faded titles.
Tom's eyes came to rest on a book sticking out slightly from the others. Oliver Twist. He had heard of this book before, seen it in a few muggle bookstores, but had never bothered with it. Might as well give it a try, he thought, but as he grasped the book, he found another hand on the cover, and he quickly let go. The other hand stopped, and his eyes traced the slender arm back to its owner; a short girl with brown curls and caramel eyes.
She looked at him, and blushed. She grabbed the book and held it out to him.
"I-I'm sorry; would you like it?" she asked quietly. Tom was tempted to snatch the book from her hands, but thought better of it.
"No, that's fine." he said. "I'll just find another book."
The girl bit her lip. "Well, I've already read it-have you?"
Tom shook his head.
"Then here, you take it. I can find a copy elsewhere." she said, thrusting the book towards him.
"I...if you're sure you don't want it…?" he asked. She shook her head, and passed the book over. "Thank you."
There was a sort of naked pause, before the girl quietly turned and walked the other way, disappearing behind the shelves. Tom gave his head a shake, and looked down at the worn over of the book. Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens written in cursive gold letters shined up at him. He shrugged, and walked back down the two flights of stairs and up to the counter. He already had his other book, one titled 101 Different Spells for a Prankster, which seemed interesting enough.
Tom paid for his books, thanked Tobias, and left. He couldn't help but wonder about the brown eyed girl. He'd never met her, but she just…intrigued him in a way that he couldn't understand. He went into the candy store on his way to find Malfoy, and loaded up on Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. He'd run out about two weeks ago and he was starting to have withdrawals.
Abraxas waved him over from the ice cream parlor, and they sat leisurely at one of the outdoor tables watching people scurry about their shopping.
"Hey…Tom, isn't that Dumbledore over there?"
Tom looked up from his book and sure enough, there was Albus Dumbledore, wearing bright blue robes that sparkled in the afternoon sun. He was standing outside of the quill shop, smiling as he rocked back and forth on his heels.
"Whose he with?" asked Malfoy, squinting. Tom, too looked harder, and raised his brows with surprise; the girl from the bookstore was chatting quietly with Dumbledore, and the two were now headed in the direction of their table.
"I know her!"
"You do?" asked Malfoy, with interest.
"Well, not really." said Tom, eyes still on the pair. "I ran into her when I was at the bookstore earlier…"
Malfoy raised a brow. "Bookstore? I thought you said you had business…"
Tom shrugged. Dumbledore was almost to their table. The girl looked up from her packages, met his eyes, and quickly looked away, blushing. Malfoy had already gone back to ice cream, completely disinterested. Tom, on the other hand, was trying to figure out why the girl was being accompanied by his Transfiguration teacher.
She must be an exchange student…
"Ah, good afternoon, Tom!" Dumbledore's words jerked him from his thoughts.
"Professor…" he answered, nodding his head a little. Abraxas stayed quiet; he didn't quite like the Deputy Headmaster.
"Shopping for school?" he asked, completely unaware that the girl's eyes were shifting back and forth between himself and Tom, wide with fear.
Tom nodded, and then gestured towards the girl. "Who is the young lady?"
"Oh, excuse my horrible manners!" said Dumbledore, shoving the girl forward a bit. She squeaked, and ducked her head in embarrassment. "This is Hermione Duree. Her mother just passed away, and she was sent here to finish her schooling at Hogwarts."
"Nice to meet you, Miss Duree." Tom said quietly, sticking out his hand. Hermione regarded the hand as though it would bite her at any moment, and after glancing at Dumbledore, she tentatively laid her small hand in his larger one.
They shook hands, and as soon as he let go, she withdrew hers, quick as lightning. Tom raised a brow.
She wasn't so nervous in the bookstore...
"We shall be seeing each other at Hogwarts, I suppose?"
She didn't respond. Tom shrugged, and watched as the two left. He barely even heard his Professor bid him farewell. Hermione looked back towards Tom once, before whipping her head around and disappearing into the crowds.
HgTmrHgTmrHgTmrHg
AN: Good lord that was tough. I actually didn't mind this chapter. I know, it's not super long, but I promise I won't wait two months to get the next one out.
Now, a few things. I wasn't sure if Tom killed his father before sixth year, or the summer after. But it fits with the story, so…deal with it. And as for his weird thing with not like to deal with financial situations, I always thought Tom Riddle would have a hard time with that. Mostly because he had never really had money or a bank account, and because they don't offer a business class at Hogwarts. And I like to make him seem more human. :)
Eh…Tobias is made up, and he doesn't really matter to the story. He's just there. In my old story, Hermione kept her last name. Not in this one. Duree means time in French. Well…I think it does. I used an online dictionary thing, so correct me if I'm wrong.
Tell me if I made mistakes; I didn't beta this cause I wanted it out. I will revise it though. But tell me if I misspelled something. You'll get a cookie. Maybe.
And ask me a question if you're confused. And review. Even if you don't want to.
Love,
The Author.