She awoke and tried to sit up. The muscles in her neck and back protested furiously and she sank back into the mattress. What happened last night? she wondered. She distinctly remembered a book shop, she remembered looking through books, and she remembered him. She had met Tom last night. Don't be silly, it was a dream, she reminded herself. She drew the curtains back and looked around the dormitory. The other curtains were drawn shut as well and her ears picked up the unmistakable sound of one of the girls snoring.

She reached for her watch on the nightstand to check the time. It was a quarter to six. Hermione had managed to wake up fifteen minutes before her alarm went off. She stretched, releasing the pressure in her neck and back. She proceeded to get ready for the day ahead of her.

x~x~x~x~x

Hermione felt weariness weighing on her as she sprinted down the corridor to the dungeons. She was already five minutes late for potions due to the fact that her schedule had it listed in the block right after Care of Magical Creatures. She swore under her breath and a nearby painting of a haggard looking nun scolded her. She paid no attention and moments later she burst into the potion's classroom. Professor Slughorn was dictating the ingredients necessary for today's lesson and Hermione quickly took a seat in the back of the room.

She was relieved to see that today's potion was going to be relatively simple to brew. She reached into her bag to produce her quill and notebook. She discovered something that she was not expecting. The black leather-bound journal. She plucked it from its place in her bag and set it on the desk.

What are you playing at?

She didn't remember packing it into her bag in the first place. She turned it over slowly as if expecting to discover that it had sprouted appendages and crawled into the bag itself. Naturally, it hadn't. She opened the journal and Slughorn's voice faded away as she began to read the new entry that had blossomed there.

Hermione,

I hope that you slept well and that you enjoyed the insight I showed you last night. I'm sorry if it startled you. I hope this doesn't sound cliche, but I thought you'd might agree that seeing is believing. I simply wanted to erase any fear that you might harbor for me.

I know that can't be accomplished in one night. That's why I'm inviting you to join me again. If you accept, you need only have this journal close-by when you sleep. If you decline, well, the opposite will keep me from your dreams.

-Tom

She pondered his invitation. Should I really get involved in this? she wondered, I have no idea who this Tom character is.

There's only one way to find out.

She was surprised at her own rashness. What happened to the cool, calculating Hermione? What happened to the Hermione who did research to understand the possible outcomes of her decisions?

She died last year. In the war.

Hermione quietly closed the journal and slid it into her bag.

x~x~x~x~x~x

That evening she rushed to complete her homework. She still did a relatively thorough job, but her handwriting was haphazard at best. When she was finished she shoved the parchment and books into her bag and checked the time. It was nearly ten o' clock. She went up to the dormitory and got ready for bed. She then grabbed the journal and crawled into bed, closing the curtains behind her.

She threw the sheets over herself and awaited sleep to take her. She wasn't aware of how long she lay there but suddenly there was a flash and she immediately fell into a slumber.

"You decided to join me?" she was sitting in the back of a bus. The only other souls on the bus were the driver and the dark-haired boy sitting next to her. The latter was the one that spoke.

Hermione nodded. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Haven't the slightest idea," Tom said quietly. He gazed out the window with the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I only do this during the summer."

She followed his gaze and she forgot how to breathe for a moment. The scene flashing by was something out of an old movie. The cars were vintage models and only came in one color, black. The men shuffled about in suits and the women in long dresses with highly accentuated waistlines. The windows of shops advertised Cola being sold for less than twenty five cents. Frayed scarlet posters reading "Keep Calm and Carry On" were posted in shop windows and on brick walls.

"When are we?" she clarified. She tore her eyes from the outside world to take a glance at Tom. The subtle smile on his lips was becoming slightly more magnified.

"Nineteen forty-three," he replied simply.

The FORTIES? Hermione thought wildly. "And," she swallowed a bit to regain her composure, "What exactly are we doing on this bus?"

"Oh, right," he said, "Well, during the summer, when I'm not at school, I have a lot of time on my hands."

"So, you ride busses," Hermione finished.

"Is that weird? I just want to see the city, Hermione. What better way than to hop on a random bus and just go," he said.

"I don't think it's weird," Hermione said quietly. They watched the city rush by. A lot of the buildings were damaged and some were just piles of rubble on the ground. The bus had to take numerous detours and Hermione could see that the roads had been completely demolished in some places.

She turned to Tom. He had seen the horrors of war, just as she had. It was raving in his back yard, it had most likely taken loved ones from him, it was staring him in the face every day. She then had another realization. This would be around the time of Grindelwald's reign of terror. He was caught between two worlds and two wars.

"What is it?" he asked. He had obviously noticed her staring.

"It's nothing," she mumbled and turned back to the window.

"Hermione," he said quietly, "If it wasn't nothing, you wouldn't be so secretive about it."

"How can you stand it?" she asked.

"Stand what?"

"This," she motioned at the bleak scene that flew past the bus window, "This, destruction."

He lowered his head, "It sort of, grows on you, I guess. I mean, the war's been going on for a while now. I just got used to it."

"Is that what's happened to me? Is that what's going to happen to me?" she asked quietly.

"I don't think so," Tom replied. She turned to look at him again, he was already looking at her. Her honey colored eyes scanned his gray ones. "You've seen a lot, Hermione, I do not doubt that. It's just that you're still soft. You're still tender. You could see a thousand more wars, and I think that each will shock you as much as the last."

"So, I'm weak?"

"No. You're compassionate. It's a trait that many take for granted." His face was unreadable, but there was a sort of softness in his eyes.

He took her hand in his, and she almost gasped at how real it felt. She could feel the warmth of his fingers and the pulse in his wrist. "You have to wake up soon, are you going to visit me tomorrow?"

Hermione nodded, "Of course, but, why do you want me to?"

"I'll answer your questions tomorrow, I promise, but it's time for you to wake up."

He was right. The interior of the bus was beginning to warp and darkness was gathering at the edges of her vision.

Hermione awoke with a start. She pulled the curtains back, the dormitory was still dark. She reached for her bedside table and her fingers stumbled across her watch. She took her wand in her other hand and muttered, "Lumos."

It was barely past five o'clock. She replaced her wand and watch on the bedside table, drew the curtains, and tried to fall asleep again.

She was unsuccessful. She just had too many questions about the journal. Who was Tom? Why was he so eager to show her his life?

She closed her eyes in hopes that the questions would eventually fade away. They wouldn't. They persistently swarmed in her skull and she lay there until she heard yawning and movement from outside her curtains.

The other girls were beginning to wake up and get ready for the day ahead. Hermione groaned and decided that she should do the same.

Thanks for all the reviews. I'm going to try and PM some answers to some of your questions. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this new chapter