Ok, guys, I'm gonna be nice this time and update, but come on, only two reviews? Thanks sweet-tang-honey, and waterflower20. :) So here goes numba 2! And puh-leez review!
Chapter Two: 1944
"...I read all the papers, Headmaster, really, it's completely reasonable."
Hermione's eyes fluttered open as she heard the familiar voice that she never thought she would hear again. She realized she was laying in an incredibly soft bed in a room which she recognized as the Hospital Wing.
"Yes, I suppose you're right, Albus," replied a gruff voice, and Hermione saw that the man that spoke was a short, round man with small beady eyes and a rippling black mustache. On the beds on either side of her she saw Harry and Ron sitting up, staring attentively at an auburn-haired, much younger-looking, alive Dumbledore, who was flipping through there papers. He suddenly looked up and met her eyes, realizing she was awake.
"Ah, Miss..." He glanced down to consult his papers once again. "Macmillan. Hermione Macmillan. Your...sister, I presume?" Dumbledore asked, glancing at Harry. Harry blinked rapidly, looking as though he had momentarily zoned out.
"Sorry, yes, sir, she is. My elder sister."
"Excellent, excellent," Dumbledore murmured. "Once you're all well, we'll get you off and sorted, is that alright, Headmaster Dippet?"
"What, oh, yes, yes, of course," Dippet said, forcing a strained smile onto his face as he looked at the new three students. "If you'll follow me?"
Hermione glanced nervously at the other two boys, who looked back at her, questions in their eyes, but rose nonetheless, and followed Dippet out of the Hospital Wing and in the direction of what Hermione knew to be the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore closed the door behind them and Dippet reached above his head to lift down the sorting hat. Dumbledore stood against the wall, watching interestedly.
"We normally don't sort till September 1st," Dippet told them as he set a rickety stool in front of them. "But we figured you wouldn't want to be sorted with a bunch of eleven-year-olds." Hermione smiled nervously. "Well then.. whose first?"
Hermione looked at Harry first, and then Ron, who were both looking at her expectantly, and then she rolled her eyes and stepped forward.
"You'll just place this on your head and-"
"I know," Hermione cut in, then cringed as Dippet looked at her suspiciously. "Sorry, it's just, I've read Hogwarts, a History about a dozen times."
Harry pretend to cough into his hand and she heard him mutter "Bookworm."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Unlike my dear brother," Hermione said, pretending to glare at Harry ."I take my education seriously."
"Hey, if Quidditch is counted as education, I'm a scholar."
At this Hermione giggled, just as the hat dropped over her eyes, and she was submersed into blackness. Her first year flashed before her eyes suddenly, as she remembered sitting on this same stool, the same, raggedy hat over her eyes, when she was much smaller of course, wondering nervously what house she'd be in, but at the same time jittering with anticipation. This time, around of course, she knew which house she'd be in...
Hermione Granger
She jumped, almost having forgotten how eerily disembodied that hat's voice was.
No, no, I'm Hermione Macmillan
The hat chuckled in her ear. Whatever you say, darling. Now, last time I sorted you, in the future, of course, I put you in Gryffindor.
Where I belong.
The hat chuckled again, this time louder. Perhaps. But there is another place you belong, that I could not put you last time, because of your destiny.
Before she could question what it meant, the torn and ragged brim spread itself to from a pair of lips, and it shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"
She opened her eyes to see Harry and Ron gazing at her with awed expressions. "But-" Ron started but Hermione immediately silenced him with a glare. As she passed him, she hissed in his ear, "Later!"
He nodded and sat down on the stool, and Hermione watched as the hat shouted his placing mere seconds later. "GRYFFINDOR!"
Hermione felt a twinge of jealous tweak at her heart. So Harry and Ron would be together in the Gryffindor dormitories, while she was stuck in the unfamiliar territory of Ravenclaw? It didn't seem fair.
It was finally Harry's turn, and as the hat slipped over his eyes, he flashed her a soft smile. Hermione waited patiently, wondering why the hat hadn't decided in seconds like it had for Ron. In fact, Harry's sorted took longer than the both of them. It had been over a minute when the hat finally opened its brim-mouth and shouted an answer that nearly knocked both she and Ron off their feet.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Hermione stared at Harry as he stepped off the stool and moved to stand next to them, baffled when she realized that he didn't look surprised; on the contrary, he looked like he had expected nothing less to happen.
"Very well!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together, smiling widely. "All very noble houses. Now, if you'll follow me, I shall lead you to your dormitories." As he led them out of the office and towards the Grand Staircase, he pointed out random aspects of Hogwarts, which they were already aware of, but that they acted surprised nonetheless.
"Now, Mr. Hurst and Miss Macmillan, both your dormitories, the Ravenclaw Common Room and the Gryffindor Common Room, are towers, whereas the Slytherin Common Room is down in the dungeons." He turned and winked at Harry. "It's rather drafty down there, so I hope you brought extra sweaters." Harry smiled, fondly remembering Dumbledore's strange sense of humor.
As they drew nearer to the Slytherin Common Room, it did indeed seem to get colder. They came to a long, dimly-lit hall, which they made there way to the end of, where a portrait of an elegantly dressed woman was on the wall.
"Password?" she asked in a snooty voice. Dumbledore tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, I think, my lady, at least until the prefects arrive to change it, we will have it be 'Salazar', yes?"
She sniffed and nodded, swinging open. Harry glanced inside nervously. Dumbledore smiled encouragingly. "The boy's dormitories are down the left hallway, and you'll come to a door labeled '7', and you can chose any bed you like." He smiled. "If you need anything, you'll find me."
Harry nodded. Hermione stepped forward and reached her arms around him to hug him, and whispered in his ear, "Room of Requirement, seven-thirty."
He nodded and disappeared into the common room, the portrait swinging shut behind him.
"Alright, Ravenclaw, next, I think." Dumbledore swiftly led them up to the fifth floor, where, instead of a portrait, there was a knobless door with a single eagle knocker.
"This is a little trickier, Miss Macmillan. Here you'll find no password, nor key, but a riddle." He lifted a long-fingered hand and tapped the knocker once, sharply.
A smooth, disembodied voice said, "What always runs, but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?"
"Hmm, one of the longer ones, I see," Dumbledore ventured, but Hermione just smirked and turned to face the knocker again, throwing a confident wink it Ronald's direction.
"A river." She said simply, and the door swung open. The Ravenclaw Common Room was much different then the Gryffindor Common Room. It appeared almost cozier to Hermione. The fireplace was slightly larger, and the walls were lined with rows and rows of books. It was like they had their own personal library in here. Scattered about the room were various couches, chairs, and tables, and Hermione could not have imagined a more suitable haven. She sighed loftily, and she could have sworn she heard Ronald chuckle. "Seven-thirty," she reminded him softly, before the door swung shut behind her. She glanced around the room once more before moving towards the staircases on the left and moving up until she finally came to a door labeled '7'. She pushed open the door cautiously.
Inside was a fairly simple room, made up of five beds with blue and bronze walls in here too were lined with books and a much smaller fireplace crackled in a corner. Yes, these were much cozier than the small, chilly, and often cramped Gryffindor girls' dormitories, though Hermione supposed it would be more crowded when the other girls arrived.
She chose the bed nearest to the window and pulled her trunk out of her pocket, unshrinking it and going through her 1940's garb, which was, thankfully, not all that different from the modern Hogwart's uniform. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was seven, and that she'd better get dinner before she went to meet the boys.
Climbing down the Grand Staircase was a slightly less laborious duty than it had been while staying the the Gryffindor Tower, she supposed, because they were two floors higher. As she entered the Great Hall, she immediately spotted Ron and Harry, who had apparently had the same idea as her, sitting at the Gryffindor table, chuckling heartily about something. She strode over to them and sat down beside them, immediately loading her plates with sweets that had been laid out just especially for them.
After a moment of silence, Hermione glanced up at Harry with a sly smirk and asked coyly, "How's the serpents' lair?"
"How's the bookworms' joint?" he replied craftily, snatching a grape off her plate and popping it into his mouth.
"Touche, Macmillan, touche."
"Thank you, Macmillan."
"You're very welcome, Macmillan."
"Would you two cut it out?" Ron snapped finally, holding back a smile and Hermione gigged.
"Isn't it nicer though, with just the three of us, rather than a whole bunch of people," Hermione questioned, leaning back in her seat and observing the two of them as they stuffed their faces.
"Nah, no fun," Ron said thickly around a mouthful of chicken. "No girls to look at."
Not noticing Hermione's horrified face, Harry sniggered. "Yeah, wonder if they make'em like they do back home? Nice arse and a feisty attitude."
"Harry!" Hermione reached over the table and swatted his hand before Ron could reply. They both blinked at her, surprised.
"Sorry, Mione, it's just...sometimes we forget you're a girl," Ron said, and then, realizing his mistake, smiled sheepishly at her, shrugging as his freckled face turned red. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him; cheeks puffed out from having so much food stuffed in his mouth, bright red face contrasting extravagantly with his red hair.
"Well, I'll be off," Harry said, standing up and brushing his hands off on his shirt. "I'll meet you two up there in fifteen minutes."
Hermione nodded and waved to him as he left. She and Ron started up the great staircase, walking in a comfortable silence before Ron spoke. "Mione..."
She glanced up at him, eyebrows raised questioningly. He meekly continued, seeming to flush under her direct gaze. "This Tom Riddle thing, you don't think Dumbledore meant...something else...when he said we should change stuff...do you?"
"What do you mean?"
Ron looked slightly uncomfortable as he trudged up the staircase, scratching his head. "I mean...well...you know how he said Riddle couldn't...ya know...feel? Maybe he wants you to get him to feel. Like...make him fall in love with you."
Hermione suddenly understood what he meant all too well, and she blinked, realizing why Ron was so uncomfortable. "Oh...uh...no, no, no...I, uh... I don't think that was Dumbledore's initial objective...because...well, that's ridiculous!" Hermione exclaimed shrilly, letting out a nervous laugh. Ron laughed nervously too, and seemed altogether much too pleased when he realized they had reached the Room of Requirement, cutting the conversation short.
Fifteen minutes later, the three of them sat huddled around a cozy fire, mugs of hot chocolate in their hands. Harry gazed at the two of them nervously before he spoke. "So...uh...what's the plan?"
Hermione and Ron shared an unsure glance and then looked back at him, shrugging. Sighing heavily, Harry's head dropped into his hands, and Hermione recognized his sign of frustration, not with them, but himself.
"Dumbledore didn't clarify," she said slowly. "So we've kind of have to go on our own whim, here. I mean, if Riddle seems potentionally dangerous to us, in particular, we'll have to find a way to dispose of him as soon as possible." Hermione shivered slightly as she used the word 'dispose''; she didn't like to think of human beings as being 'disposable'. "If, however, he seems somewhat pliant-"
"Which he won't be-" Harry cut in quickly.
"Then we might just have to be...observers. See how much he's willing to give us."
"Right then," Harry rose to his feet, and Hermione saw his leadership mode turn on, and she smiled softly. "Guidelines and regulations..." He glanced at Hermione gain. "I'm in Slytherin. If, by any chance, I grow somewhat closer to him, and I'm offered to join his club thingie-"
"Knights of Walpurgis," Hermione reminded him patiently.
"Right, that...well, if I'm invited to join that..."
"On certain terms..." Hermione said slowly. "I believe it would be in our best interest for you to accept the offer, because the information we could get from those kinds of encounters would be infailable."
Hermione sat up slowly, looking at each of them in turn. "Ron, I'm sorry, but you'll want to listen to this part, because, no offense, but you'll struggle with it most. We must not let Riddle know that we know what he is. No predisposed feelings of ill-will, we have to treat him like an indifferent individual." She looked at Ron apologetically when he frowned. "You're the worst at hiding your emotions, so he'll flock to you like a hungry animal, but you must not let him get into you're head. The fact that none of us know Occlumency very well in our situation is going to be incredibly precarious, but most of this mission lies entirely in the hands of fate and luck."
Harry grimaced, looking at the both of them with more seriousness in his eyes than Hermione had ever seen. "Then we'll be damned if the fates don't hold us in high stadards."