Notes: The interpretation of Dumbledore's behavior in the beginning of this chapter is not canon, and you may not agree with it, but I think it's a valid possibility. I'm not a supporter of evil!Dumbledore, but… I would still point out that his passivity in Goblet of Fire—given the fact that he appeared to have worked out a great deal of the situation before the end of the tournament—is indicative of its being deliberate. Maybe Voldemort couldn't be vanquished, even if all the Horcruxes were gone, unless he had a physical body. Maybe Dumbledore anticipated the blood bond and decided to let it happen to give Harry a chance to survive. I honestly would not put either past him.

Chapter Seven: Revisionist History

"Grindelwald," Tom muttered.

They were in the Room of Requirement, which currently took the form of a richly decorated alcove with cozy chairs, a small hearth, and a dark ambience ("We need a place to talk privately"), and Hermione was explaining to him what had actually happened after she went to Hogsmeade.

"Yes, Grindelwald," she replied. This was the second time he had said the name. He was obviously puzzling something out but was not sharing it with her. That annoyed her. It was her experience, and she had the right to know what he thought it was about, since she had chosen to confide in him. "What are you thinking, Tom?"

He raised an eyebrow at that. Until this point, she had only called him by his given name when they were pretending to be a couple for other people.

"Basically, Hermione, it doesn't make sense that Grindelwald would have even known about you, except from one source."

Hermione sighed, vaguely disappointed that this was where his thoughts had converged. "I know you dislike Dumbledore, but this is a school. There could be leaks from anywhere."

"No, Hermione, it could only be information planted on purpose by him. Suppose the alternative. Suppose that a student wrote home about you, and the parents had contacts with Grindelwald's operation. Do you really think the parents would pass on Hogwarts gossip from their child to Grindelwald? And if they knew that information with a connection to Dumbledore was of interest to him, then answer me this, Hermione: Why would Grindelwald then ask you to spy? He would already have a reliable source of information in Hogwarts."

Hermione closed her eyes. It could not be so. Dumbledore did not do things like this with his students.

He let Harry compete in the Triwizard Tournament on his own when he knew full well that Voldemort had interfered with the Goblet in order to get at him.

That Voldemort—of sorts—was now right before her eyes, and she was confiding in him, occurred to her briefly, but she pushed it out of her head. Tom was just a person. The monster hadn't happened in this universe.

He knew that "Moody" was Barty Crouch well before the maze. He had the memory of Crouch's trial in his Pensieve. Crouch was assumed to be dead, so that memory should have been just—history. Nothing relevant to the present. But he knew. He also knew that someone had stolen Polyjuice ingredients from Snape's office. He knew. And he allowed it to happen. He used Harry as bait to get his enemy to make a move.

Her heart was thudding and her breaths were coming heavily. She wouldn't think it. She would not.

"From what you tell me, Grindelwald was not interested in hurting you," Tom remarked. "Did it seem genuine?"

Hermione considered. "I… actually think it did," she replied. "He just spoke—made a speech, more like—about how untrustworthy he thought Dumbledore was, and how I shouldn't put my faith in him—"

"Can't argue with that," Tom muttered with a grin. "But if Dumbledore knew Grindelwald and knew there would not be a great risk to you, then, well…." He trailed off pointedly.

"Grindelwald seemed concerned that by aligning with Dumbledore, I would meet the same fate as—" Hermione broke off. Then she remembered that Tom already knew about the Dumbledore family scandal, having read about it in the old newspapers when he investigated her cover story. "As his sister," she finished quietly. "He had actual regret in his voice when he spoke of her death. And he told me to read more about his movement."

Tom considered. "Then maybe you should do that."

"I had every intention of it," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "If there's even a possibility that what I know is wrong, then of course I want to find that out. And I can always make up my own mind about things with enough information."

Tom smirked. "Is that why you have that Dark Arts book?"

Oh, we're back to that. You never give up, do you?

Hermione gave him a measured look. "Someday, Tom, I may tell you exactly why I have that Dark Arts book."

"Of course you will," he said confidently.

The following day, Hermione got up early with the intent of going to the library and settling in for a day of reading. Ignoring her dozing roommates, she got dressed and went to the Slytherin common room to look for Tom.

Several of his clique of boys were sprawled on the cushions lazily, doing nothing in particular, just looking superior—or believing that they did. Hermione just saw a group of seventeen-year-old boys.

"Riddle's not here," one of them spoke up.

Hermione searched her brains for the name. Lestrange. Roland Lestrange. A shudder passed over her body, followed by a wave of revulsion. This was probably the father of the Lestrange brothers, who took part in the torture of the Longbottoms.

Hasn't happened, she reminded herself, trying not to curse him where he sat.

"Where is he, then?" she asked.

The boy next to Lestrange shrugged. Hermione knew that this was Druella's twin brother, Vincent Rosier. "No idea. He said he had something to take care of." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Lonely already, Green?"

Hermione sniffed in contempt. Definitely just a group of seventeen-year-old boys. "Not lonely enough to seek out your company, Rosier. I'm sure there is a valid reason why Tom is the leader of your pack." At that, she stalked out of the common room and headed directly to the library.

Once inside, she staked out the table where Tom usually sat and piled up every book and magazine about recent history that she could find. She did not recognize most of the titles from her own time, which struck her as odd. What had happened to these books by the 90s? Unlike Muggle libraries, there was no need for the Hogwarts library—or any wizarding library—to remove books for space considerations.

She opened the first of the titles, turned to the table of contents, and began to read.

Four hours later, she had a horrible suspicion that she knew why none of these books were still around in her time.

.

The political conflict of Pureblood Isolationist against Muggle-sympathetic Reformist has been raging since the adoption of the International Statute of Secrecy. These traditional factions obviously disagree on many points, such as the legality of Wizard-Muggle relationships and the introduction of Muggle-born wizards into the magical world. However, their points of disagreement all relate to the degree of contact that the wizarding world should have with the Muggle world. They do not disagree about the rightness of Wizarding Seclusion, but rather, about how extreme that Seclusion should be.

In the 1920s, however, a new movement arose in Europe under the auspices of Gellert Grindelwald, a movement which bridged gaps between the Reformists and the Isolationists, but is wholly radical in its goal: the repeal of the Statute of Secrecy. It is easy to see the popular appeal of Grindelwald's message in Continental Europe. No distinctions are made between Pureblood, Half-blood, and Muggle-born; the mere existence of magic is all that is important. Family and personal connections of a wizard matter not because in Grindelwald's vision, wizards no longer need hide from Muggles.

—"The Rise of Wizarding Supremacism in Europe," a scholarly magazine article

.

Two destructive Muggle wars and a devastating Muggle economic downturn have touched our world. The lie we have been fed by our Ministries is now irrevocably exposed as a lie: the Muggles can indeed harm us. They are not benign and childlike, as the Reformists would say. They are not filthy, primitive, and stupid, as the Isolationists say. The agents of our Leader Grindelwald, highly placed in the Muggle governments to keep watch on Wizarding interests, confirm what we fear: Even now Muggle governments are engaging in research programmes to develop catastrophic weaponry on a scale the world has never before seen….

Our Leader is rational and understands that the immediate exposure of Magic to the Muggles would be dangerous. Therefore he advocates the gentle use of our most potent weapons upon troublesome Muggles. No Muggle-born would need to be excluded from their rightful membership in the Wizarding world because of ignorant, Magic-hostile family members. We have Memory Charms and the Imperius Curse for such cases, and it is right to use them gently for the sake of a Wizarding child, or even for the sake of the Muggles themselves in certain circumstances. Or consider a world in which the Muggle Adolf Hitler had been controlled by the Imperius Curse—or in which the German Muggle Archduke, in 1914, had been shielded by Magical means from the assassin's weapon. Our world would not be in tatters, in danger of total destruction by Muggles who are manifestly unable to rule themselves….

—"The Vision of Our Leader Grindelwald," a propaganda pamphlet reprinted in the Quibbler for stirring up local patriotic outrage

.

The consummate blood-traitor Grindelwald and his army would destroy all that we have worked to build since 1689. He insults wizarding pride by claiming that Muggles could destroy us, when we all know that no actual Witches were burned, but merely stupid Muggles killing other stupid Muggles. He uses Muggle wars—more killing of Muggles by other Muggles, nothing that concerns us—to incite fear among Wizards. He offends the purity of our ancient magical lineages by advocating to bring in Mudbloods wherever they are found and grant them—and their Muggle families, which he insists are actually Squibs—full status in our world, even admission to our noble school Durmstrang. He would expose us to the Muggles, creating the very danger he insists is already present.

For decades we, the Continental Pureblood Movement, have fought in the halls of political power against the Mudblood sympathizers. However, the threat of Grindelwald is such that we must, for the time being, join forces with our political opponents and unite over our common cause of Wizarding Secrecy….

—"In Support of Articles of Alliance," a political party publication from Austria

.

It is with Grindelwald that we will truly come into that which is our own. The Reformists have championed us while patronizing and restricting our families. They have sought to bring us into the wizarding world, the world to which we are born by virtue of our magic, but we can bring little of our own. We are removed from our families, from our shared human culture, from the great scholarly and innovative advances that our Muggle neighbours make. We are then forced into a closed society that is a century or more behind the Muggles in advancement, and we are never truly a part of the wizarding world. Mocked and derided, our non-magical advances legislated out of existence in the name of either "protecting Muggles" or "preserving wizarding culture," we are stifled, and with us, the wizarding world is held back from the true potential that it could achieve. Grindelwald shall grant us our full, true birthright as Wizards and as human beings. We declare our support.

—"Manifesto of the Association of German Muggle-born Wizards"

.

Hermione was overwhelmed.

Why had she not known this? How, after fifty years, had history been rewritten so thoroughly?

Everything she had ever read about Grindelwald in the 1990s indicated that he was merely another blood purity supporter, albeit a highly intelligent and charismatic one. That when he was defeated by Dumbledore, the movement merely migrated to Britain and Voldemort took it over a decade later. That was clearly not the case at all. She had had no idea that German Muggle-borns had declared support for him. Grindelwald's movement had been something very different from blood purity, since the blood purity supporters were openly opposed to him. The abusive references to Grindelwald in the first Slug Club meeting now made perfect sense to her, since the Austrian Pureblood document had even called him a blood-traitor.

Hermione recognized many of the publications for what they were—political propaganda—but they were nonetheless far more revealing of Grindelwald's real agenda than the deliberate lies that revisionist future historians had written after his defeat. The political documents were clearly written in the soaring, rabble-rousing style particular to that sort of publication. But underneath the rhetoric, she realized that this part of wizarding history had been very, very different from what she had always read. There was a reason why the Muggle-borns had thrown their support to Grindelwald. There was a reason why the European Purebloods opposed him, especially if their opposition went so far that they would make common cause with their longtime political adversaries over it. There was a reason why he could muster such broad, crossover support even with those two factions' leadership against him. And there was even a reason why Grindelwald as a young man could have made friends with a half-blood wizard who had a Muggle-born mother.

That could partly explain why, even in 1994, they weren't allowed in Durmstrang! Hermione knew all too well that the winners of a war often punished the losers for years, even decades. This had definitely happened in postwar histories, at least those that were printed in Britain.

Lies. Utter lies.

Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald in her timeline. If nothing changed, it would happen in this timeline next year. After that, his political compatriots—"Reformists," as the pamphlets called them—had been ascendant in wizarding Britain until about 1994, when Lucius Malfoy had such influence on Minister Fudge. As much as it hurt to admit it, they had undoubtedly pressured historians to write the revisionist history that she had learned, falsely linking Grindelwald to their current political opponents. It was despicable, but she supposed it didn't overly surprise her now that she knew it. Things like that were simply done in politics.

Hermione no longer knew what to think. The German Muggle-borns had a legitimate point, and a point that had troubled her for ages as a Muggle-born herself. She had been ripped from Muggle society and forced into a culture that did not fully accept her. The wizarding world was decades behind the Muggle one in technological and scientific advancement, and there was no movement to change that. Indeed, both factions were against it, the blood-purity fanatics on the basis that Muggle culture contaminated wizarding culture, and the others on the basis that Muggles would be bullied and tormented by wizards if wizards got hold of too many Muggle objects and enhanced them.

And there was something else, something in the pamphlet printed by Grindelwald's organization. Memory Charms.

I ruled my Muggle parents for their own good, she thought painfully. I did it without asking them, without a by-your-leave, without anything. I just did it because I could and I thought it was best for them. To protect them. I did exactly what Grindelwald's movement advocates doing to Muggle-born wizards' parents when "necessary."

Still, Grindelwald—Hermione could not bring herself to support him as he was. She remembered some things Viktor had told her during her fourth year. Grindelwald had killed his grandfather, and he was even now engaged in mass killing and incarceration of his political opponents in Nurmengard Prison. And Hermione was not sure she could support overturning the Statute of Secrecy, as he apparently wanted to do.

This is beyond me, she thought, putting the books and magazines back in their proper places. It would not do for anyone to see what she had been reading. I can't get involved in the politics of 1944, especially if it means I might end up on the losing side. I'm meant to change something, apparently, but this cannot be it. This is too big for me.

That afternoon, Hermione went back to the Slytherin common room feeling dejected and overcome. She really did not want to deal with Slytherins at the moment, but whenever Tom turned up again, he would come looking for her, and she did not want to incite his displeasure or worry this soon after the—incident.

Roland Lestrange looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a profoundly disapproving look.

That's new, she thought. She glared at him. "Problem, Lestrange?"

"No," he sniffed. "Not my problem, at least. Maybe yours. Riddle told us to tell you, when you came back, to go to the seventh floor corridor. He said you'd know what that meant." He grinned nastily.

"I don't envy you, Green," Vincent Rosier said in an undertone. "Riddle doesn't react kindly when he's angry with someone."

Why would Tom be angry with me? Hermione wondered. She decided not to think about it. These boys were probably just trying to scare her. Without another word—but a deeply scathing look—she turned on her heels and left the common room.

Tom was waiting in the Room of Requirement, which took the same form as it had the previous day. He did not look angry at all, confirming Hermione's guess about the stupid boys in the common room. Pathetic, seventeen-year-old teenagers.

"Have a seat," he said quietly. His face wore a very odd expression—thoughtful and eager at the same time.

"What have you been up to all day?" she asked.

He glanced at her. "I've been investigating something. Something that occurred to me after what happened to you yesterday."

"Did you find anything useful out?"

"Maybe." He closed up. "I heard you were in the library."

"Yes." She hesitated. "I did read about Grindelwald."

He met her eyes with his own. They were interested. "And?" he prompted.

"Much of what I thought I knew—no, all of it—was wrong," she admitted. "Evidently, in my time, the history of Grindelwald had been completely rewritten. It was rather horrifying, to tell you the truth. I was lied to."

Tom's mouth curled upward in a faint smirk. "You weren't a Slytherin the first time you came to school, were you?"

"What?"

"You weren't. Obviously. But still, does it really surprise you that people will lie about politics?"

"I…" Hermione trailed off. She had known from fourth year that official sources would lie for an agenda. She herself had been a victim of a reporter's poisoned quill. "I don't suppose, but it still makes me angry."

He nodded. "That's why it's imperative to be the one in power, telling the lies."

Hermione stared at him. "I—wow. That is what you conclude?" She got up. "Good evening, Tom. I thought you had something to tell me—"

"Sit down, Green."

His tone was sharp, and she had not heard him speak like that—or use her assumed surname—in weeks. It caught her attention, and she stopped in her tracks.

"I said sit down. I do have something important to tell you."

Hermione went back to the chair and sat down, looking at him with raised eyebrow.

He looked down at his lap for a moment, as if he were trying to decide something. Finally he looked up. "Stay away from the Knights unless I am with you," he finally said.

A sudden, inexplicable chill shot down her back. She had just been in the common room with some of them. She had also been there this morning, and both times they had been somewhat sinister. She had had to convince herself that they were mere boys, after all….

"I noticed that Lestrange and Rosier, at least, appear to have some sort of problem with me," she said haltingly.

"Stay the bloody hell away from them," he said in emphatic tones. "And Avery too. They think you're working for Dumbledore and Grindelwald."

"And you don't?" she scoffed.

His eyes gleamed. "I used to entertain the idea, but no, now that I know why you are really here, much that puzzled me makes sense." He sighed, thinking something over again. "There's something else. I'm no longer sure that Grindelwald doesn't have a spy in Hogwarts," he said. "I may have been—mistaken."

Despite the gravity of his words, Hermione could not help but laugh. "The great Tom Riddle, mistaken about something?"

"It's not funny."

"And you think this spy is one of them? That makes no sense, based on what I just read about him."

"I don't—no, I don't think it's one of them."

"Then what—"

"Look, Hermione," he hissed, "just stay the fuck away from them unless you are with me, and don't be alone with anyone else. You won't be hurt if I'm there."

Hermione's eyes widened at his language. He was really serious about this, and it was baffling to her that he even cared. Baffling… and thrilling, in a certain way. But she knew better than to inquire further on that subject with him. "If they think that I'm working for Grindelwald, why would they care if you were there? Wouldn't they want to protect you from me?" she asked.

"Hermione, my—relationship—with them is… well, unique. They understand that it is not their part to try to 'protect' me from anything. They know I can take care of myself. They realize it is an insult to me, to my magic, to try to 'protect' me. If I associate with you, they will think I am trying to get information from you, or deal with you myself."

Hermione shook her head in amazement. "This is really strange to me, Tom."

He smirked. "Gryffindor, wasn't it?"

Hermione scowled.

He continued, her face confirming it to him. "I am not sure yet what the connection is, but it hardly matters. If they think you're working for Grindelwald, they will be doing the bidding of their fathers. And I won't have you harmed. You're too valuable to me. How often does someone from the future show up?"

Oh, so that's it. Stung, Hermione looked back at him. "I assure you," she said icily, "that I have no desire to be around your 'Knights' by myself." She stood up. "They are repulsive to me. So if that's all, then we're done."

He peered back at her. "Why are you so offended all of a sudden?"

If you really don't know, I won't give you the satisfaction. "I'm not. Or… all right, I just can't believe you would think I would want anything to do with those boys," she lied.

"You were a Gryffindor," he replied. "Courage, bravado, trying to prove a point."

She glared. "Prove a point… such as opening the Chamber of Secrets."

"A point which I was never able to publicly prove," he said silkily, "because my personal liberty and ambitions were more important than 'proving the point' in the end. Shall we, now?" He extended his arm to her.

She took it, and they exited the Room of Requirement.

End Notes: It's fanon that Grindelwald's agenda was standard pureblood supremacy, but I'm not convinced that it was. There's nothing in the books to indicate that Grindelwald was anti-Muggle-born. His best friend was a half-blood with a Muggle-born mother, and everything in Albus's letter to him indicates that they were in agreement about wizarding supremacy, no matter where a wizard or witch's magic came from. They wanted to overturn the Statute of Secrecy and rule Muggles openly, whereas the blood-purity hardliners wanted nothing whatever to do with Muggle society. The issue is somewhat clouded by the fact that the Death Eaters routinely and flagrantly violate the Statute of Secrecy, but they are more of a terrorist group than a serious political faction.

Hermione was much more eager than Harry to overlook Dumbledore's involvement with Grindelwald's politics. She also, as noted in the chapter, used her magic on her parents' memories, "ruling" a pair of Muggles "for their own good" when they very likely would have preferred to experience grief if she had died.