October 1941
Autumn had settled in at Hogwarts. Luscious green leaves had made way for a vibrant canopy of reds and yellows, lazily swaying in the frigid winds sweeping through the castle's courtyards.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione enjoyed the crisp air, idly listening to her friend's excited chattering.
"Can you believe it? Me and Prewett!" Minerva's cheeks were flushed. Her eyes sparkled at the mention of her new boyfriend, to whom Hermione had yet to be introduced.
As far as she knew, he was a Gryffindor and a year ahead of them.
"You'll like him for sure," her friend promised. "He's a very talented potioneer."
They made their way towards the small alcove near the forbidden forest, where they agreed to meet earlier that week. Hermione found his choice a little odd since they could've just gone down to Hogsmeade or met in the common room.
Shaking her head, the young witch decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. If the boy treated her friend right, Hermione didn't have a problem with him.
The first thing she noticed was his fiery hair. The older Gryffindor was a few inches taller than Minerva and greeted the two girls with a warm smile that lit up his freckled face. He looks pretty all right, I suppose.
He moved to shake her hand before inviting the two girls to sit down. "Good to finally meet you, Lestrange. Minny has told me so much about you."
"Only good things, I hope, and please call me Hermione," she replied.
"Gladly," he agreed. "It's surprisingly difficult to get a hold of you without any of your Slytherins following close behind."
Hermione tried to keep her polite smile from slipping off her face.
Minny scoffed, "it's gotten even worse this term. I fear that she'll leave us behind for good soon."
"Charlus would be devastated."
"He would, so don't you dare to leave us for some slimy snakes."
She watched as her friend entwined her slender hand with her boyfriend's, slightly taken aback by the intimate gesture. Had her endless pureblood lessons really turned her into that much of a prude? But then, they'd been together for what, two weeks? Hermione came to the harrowing realisation that her friend was a far cry from the ten-year-old girl she had once enjoyed tea in town with.
"So, how did this happen?" She vaguely gestured at the pair in front of her.
She remembered how devasted her friend had been after telling Hermione about the same boy rejecting her two years ago. Quiet vividly. Hermione pursed her lips.
"You remember when we had that complicated Astronomy assignment in September?" Minny asked. "I met him during my time at the library. We talked for hours."
Hermione regarded her with a nod, her eyes, once again, wandering over the Prewett boy.
"Well, after that, Ignatius asked me if I'd like to go to Hogsmeade sometime, and now we're here."
"Ah, I was wondering why you'd cancel our plans on such short notice." Hermione leant back in her seat, thinking back to her dreadful day with Avery and his cronies after she'd literally bumped into them in the small village. She'd found herself browsing through a small bookshop when she'd stumbled headfirst into the older Slytherin. Who, of course, quickly took it upon himself to ruin her day.
"Are you still mad about that?"
"Nah, I'm very happy for you two," she spoke earnestly, pleased that her friend had found someone who appreciated her fierce personality.
Ignatius threw his arm around her friend's shoulder at her words and smirked. "You're a doll. Can't imagine getting myself a more stunning witch than my Minny here."
Hermione concealed her simmering irritation at his comment behind a sugary smile. Why did she feel queasy when he spouted such words while Evan could serenade her to sleep and she wouldn't bat an eyelash?
"Thank you, Hermione, your blessing means a lot to me," Minerva said warmly.
Her boyfriend nodded eagerly. "Wouldn't want our resident pureblood princess to disapprove of our match after all." He waggled his eyebrows, but Hermione got the feeling that he was only half joking.
Minny tutted and lightly shoved Ignatius' shoulder. "Be nice. Hermione isn't like that."
She raised her eyebrows. Wasn't she? Feeling a little put out, Hermione quickly left the pair to their own devices and returned to the castle before she would say something she'd regret…
November 1941
The first time Hermione had spotted Ignatius Prewett ushering some random girl into an empty classroom, she'd written it off as being paranoid. She hadn't told Minerva anything and continued her day as if nothing had happened. The sight that greeted her now, though, wasn't as easy to dismiss as the first incident.
Internally cursing the git, Hermione followed him up the stairs to the third floor, carefully minding her steps. She watched him turn around with narrowed eyes, quickly pressing herself into one of the dark alcoves lining the candle-lit corridor.
Feeling at ease, the boy turned towards the girl's bathroom, knocking once while hurriedly brushing his hands through his tousled hair.
Trying to calm herself, Hermione grabbed her wand tighter as the door opened to reveal a young Ravenclaw girl Hermione had seen maybe twice in the great hall. She was most likely in the same year as Prewett and had such a forgettable face that Hermione couldn't even begin to understand how the boy could go behind Minnie's back with someone with the same appeal as a mug of cold tea. Bastard.
"Where have you been, love? I've been waiting for ages." The girl pouted.
Hermione had to suppress a gag when they embraced, smushing their traitorous lips together. Giggling, the girl dragged him through the door.
Who hooks up in a public bathroom when we are in an actual castle?
Chewing her dry lips, Hermione contemplated how to deal with this mess. Minerva would be crushed once she found out, and Hermione knew she'd think it was her fault. She'd had a crush on the boy since their second year, and he'd already rejected her once. A second time would be even more hurtful. I'll hex his balls off if he dares to even look at Minny again.
Feeling her patience wearing thin with the two other students, Hermione made a decision. Waving her wand at the bathroom door, it immediately flew open. She listened with deep satisfaction as the sinks and toilets began to spill over, flooding the entire lavatory in seconds. It only took a few moments before the two stumbled into the corridor, their dishevelled clothes drenched.
"What in Merlin's name?" the Ravenclaw screeched as she struggled with the tiny buttons on her now very transparent blouse.
"Olive, please calm down. Let's find another spot and dry off before someone sees us," he pleaded.
The girl- Olive, seemed to have had enough for the night.
"Don't touch me, Ignatius. This isn't worth the trouble. I bet one of your other flames did this!" she spat before whirling around and leaving the speechless Gryffindor behind.
After a few seconds, he seemed to catch himself and hastily put his jumper back on.
"Whoever did this, come out now!" he bellowed.
Hermione took this as her cue to reveal herself. Pulling off her most vicious sneer that would've made Lucius Malfoy proud, she stepped out of her hiding spot.
Upon seeing her, Prewett blanched, raising his hands in a pleading gesture. "Hermione, please let me explain."
"Shut up!" she hissed, not wanting to hear any of his poor excuses.
"Please don't tell Minerva. It's for her own sake. She loves me," he tried to reason, causing Hermione, in turn, to point her wand at him.
"How dare you?" Anger rose in her chest as she listened to the boy's pathetic rambling, her hand itching to hex the boy.
Eventually, Prewett realised that Hermione wouldn't let him off the hook and quickly changed tactics.
"She won't believe you; Minerva told me about your issues with sharing things. How's your little cousin, by the way?"
Hermione felt her heart sink at his words, dismayed that her friend would tell the boy those secrets.
"It's her beloved boyfriend's words against yours," he taunted. "The jealous best friend who wants to keep her for herself." His once warm smile turned into an ugly sneer.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione tried to collect herself. The freezing water from the bathroom had begun to flood the corridor, finding its way into her polished shoes and drenching her tights.
"You'll go to Minerva in the morning and break up with her," she began. "Tell her you love her, and it's not her fault."
The boy dared to laugh in her face, and she went cold with anger, her wand still pointed right at his chest.
"And what makes you think you can tell me what to do?"
"Don't test me, Prewett. It won't end pretty for you."
The boy scowled at her threat, not realising how outmatched he was.
"Let's make a deal, you stay out of my business, and I won't convince Minerva that you're a horrible friend."
Hermione had to use all her willpower not to curse the boy. Be rational about this. Tom will have my head if I get caught hexing a fellow student.
"I won't repeat myself; do as I say or face the consequences."
The boy pursed his lips at her words, clearly not impressed by her answer.
"Accept it, Lestrange, I've won. If you want to keep your friend, you'll let me go right now." He began moving towards her, the water around his feet rippling with each step.
Hermione felt her control slip at his victorious smirk, and before she could stop herself, her lips had already moved.
"Incarcerous."
Thick ropes appeared around the shocked Gryffindor's arms and legs, and he suddenly found himself on his knees. Hermione scowled at the seething boy, somewhat underwhelmed by his lack of reflexes.
"Minny told me you play Quidditch. I would've expected you to at least try to evade my spell," she mocked him, feeling smug at the sight of his incredulous face.
Idly twirling her wand in the same manner, she'd seen Rodolphus do countless times, she gave him a moment to compose himself.
"When Dippet finds out about this, you'll regret your little temper tantrum soon enough," he hissed through clenched teeth, the ropes cutting deeper into his arms with every move he made.
Hermione stepped towards the boy and kicked him square in the chest. He fell backwards into the freezing water with a surprised yelp before she lowered herself towards his face, her wand painfully digging into his jugular.
"I don't think you understand the situation you're in, Prewett," she spoke with a deceptively calm voice. "Your family may have some sway, but one word from me, and your father won't have a job tomorrow." Hermione felt disgusted with her behaviour. The years she'd spent in the company of the Lestranges had evidently left a mark.
"You don't deserve to be a member of our house." Prewett seethed, causing Hermione to push her wand deeper into the soft flesh under his jaw.
"Promise me to talk to Minny tomorrow, and we can forget this ever happened." Her wavering voice betrayed her calm façade. Just agree already, damn it.
"Did you know that she's still innocent? I'll make sure she isn't by tomorr"-
Hermione drew her hand back in a flash, her hair sparkling dangerously,
"Cruc"-
"Expelliarmus!"
Before she could finish, her wand was ripped from her hand, and Hermione was pulled away from her trembling housemate.
"You- You tried to curse me with the"-
The ropes around his body vanished, allowing the boy to breathe properly again.
Hermione struggled against the bruising hold she'd suddenly found herself in, but it was to no avail. She craned her neck to see whose arms she was in and spotted the familiar pale hair of the Malfoy heir.
"Let go of me right now, Abraxas," she hissed, but the boy didn't budge.
She finally became aware of the other people in the corridor, first noticing Avery and Dolohov before freezing under Riddle's furious glare. I'm so dead.
"We will talk about this after Mr Prewett has been taken to the hospital wing," he spoke calmly, and it was then that Hermione remembered that tonight had been a club meeting.
She'd really done it now. Watching silently as the Slytherin discreetly signed Abraxas to help him pull the soaked boy up, she tried to calm herself.
Hermione felt Abraxas' grip on her loosen before he hurried after Tom, flashing her a worried glance before vanishing around another corner.
"You're so screwed, Lestrange." Avery sang behind her.
She whirled around to give the boy a piece of her mind when she suddenly found Dolohov standing right behind her, her wand in his hand.
"Clean this mess up and go back to your common room before Tom gets back here; I'll try to calm him down as much as possible." His voice was surprisingly soft, and his blue eyes bored into her own with an unsettling intensity.
She quietly inclined her head and took her wand from his outstretched hand.
Turning around, she made sure to leave no trace of what had happened just a few minutes prior, attempting to turn out the two boys watching her every move. You could hear a pin drop in the tense silence. Everybody knew what awaited her, and she suddenly wished that Evan was by her side. She could count on him to help her. She wasn't so sure about the others, especially not about Dolohov or Avery, for that matter.
"Make sure to avoid Tom for the next few days, he'll calm down eventually, and you can explain yourself then," Dolohov spoke up behind her, and Hermione jumped at the sudden interruption of her thoughts.
"Thanks, I know what I did was stupid, but he was messing with my friend."
Avery made a disgruntled noise at her comment. "Gryffindors. Your friend isn't a child anymore."
"Shut up, Avery. I'm not in the mood for another fight right now." Before the boy could answer, she turned on her heels and strode back to her common room. Her hands were shaking as she pushed the door to her dorm open. Her eyes wandered over to Minerva's bed. The other girl was already fast asleep. I'm so sorry, Minny...
December 1941
She'd managed to avoid Tom until their next club meeting, a rather impressive feat, Hermione liked to think. Silently sitting between Evan and Abraxas, she endured the other boy's scolding, grateful that at least he hadn't hexed her yet.
"Attempting to use an unforgivable on another student at the risk of anyone walking in on you, what were you thinking?" he questioned her, the corners of his mouth turning downwards as he regarded her with a furious glare.
Hermione shifted in her chair, "I'm sorry, Tom, it won't happen again."
"I felt your magic. If I hadn't stepped in, you would've reduced that boy to a mindless, blabbering fool."
Are you barking mad, Hermione? The unspoken question hung above her head like a Damocles sword.
She'd felt it for a while now. No sane person could've endured what she'd gone through without losing some part of themselves. Rabastan had coped by burying his old life under a heavy layer of lies and deceit, playing the role of the charismatic wizard from abroad to near perfection.
Rodolphus had undertaken the seemingly impossible task of changing the future while drowning his worries in whiskey and letting his anger out on Hermione and the house elves. And herself? She was constantly torn between the guilt of leaving her old life behind and trying to fit in with the wizards and witches around her. She had befriended people raised in the same world Hermione had fought so hard to change and helped the man who'd one day raze it to the ground. It was sickening.
"He deserved it."
The other members watched the two with indifferent expressions, careful not to make a sound. No one wanted to face Tom Riddle's wrath after what had happened to Avery. Word quickly got around, and most of them seemed to have realised that their group leader wasn't someone to be messed with.
"This wasn't the first time you've used this spell. Why did you learn it?"
She noticed that he hadn't asked her where she'd learned about the Unforgivables, probably assuming her father had taught her.
Somewhat thrown off by his direct question in front of the whole group, she tried to sort her thoughts.
"It might've escaped your notice, but Grindelwald is an active threat on the continent, and his supporters almost entirely run the French Ministry at this point." Racking her memories about the political situation in France during Grindelwald's heydays, Hermione continued.
"Living under the reign of a man whose primary political agenda is to usurp governments isn't the most peaceful experience, so forgive me if I sometimes overreact."
Considering the pitying glances she received from some of the other occupants of the room, Hermione figured that her explanation had been believable.
Riddle regarded her with a calculating gaze, clearly contemplating how to use her past experiences to his advantage.
"So, your family was involved in the Résistance?"
The room seemed to grow colder at his words. Even Hermione knew how dangerous it was to speak up against Grindelwald's regime openly, his spies seemingly lurking around every corner, waiting for people to slip up.
"Or is your family, in fact, spying for him?"
Hermione sucked in a breath at his accusation.
"It'd be a brilliant move; he'd have an insight into our government with your family's seats in the Wizengamot and even some eyes and ears in the country's most prestigious school."
The conversation had taken a dangerous turn, and Hermione was aware of the underlying threat in his words.
With the help of his wealthy friends, it wouldn't be too difficult to raise suspicion about their sudden arrival a few years ago. Hermione didn't think the Lestrange brothers had covered their tracks well enough to convince the Aurors. Regardless of their non-existent connection to the dark wizard, Riddle had said the one thing that could seriously threaten their existence in this timeline.
Her sudden fear must've shown because suddenly, Evan grabbed her shoulders and whirled her around to face him, his eyes clouded with anger.
"Hermione, please tell me this isn't true."
Struggling to find an answer to his desperate question, Hermione pulled away from him and turned towards Riddle, "we're not spies, nor are we part of the Résistance. We left because of personal reasons, that's it."
"If you have nothing to hide, why are you so shaken up right now?" Riddle asked casually, his dark eyes daring her to argue back.
Why does he always win in the end, no matter what I do or say? She thought angrily, unsure how to conclude the argument without digging herself an even deeper hole.
"I lost many friends in this pointless war. I watched our government crumble after his men turned the country into a corrupt state where only the wealthiest strive"- Memories of the future Ministry's fall flashed before her eyes, "-and you dare to question why we took the opportunity to leave when it presented itself?"
Pouring all the hatred and despair, she felt towards Voldemort into her voice, she watched shame and guilt wash over the other Slytherins faces. Except for Riddle, of course, who just continued to observe her through his dark lashes. At the memory of her fallen classmates, she felt her chest tighten uncomfortably. Still, she'd rather throw herself off the astronomy tower than cry in front of Avery.
"So, you blame your sad childhood for your appalling behaviour last week?" Riddle finally said.
"I-" Feeling empty inside, Hermione faltered in her chair.
"Don't worry. I will not hurt you today. I've found a much better way to ensure you will behave yourself in the future. Group dismissed."
Before anyone could say something, Riddle swiftly exited the room, leaving behind a perplexed Hermione. As it became clear that he wouldn't return, the others hurriedly got up and left the dimly lit room, eager to escape the tense atmosphere that had built up during their meeting...
"I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me?" Evan asked her while carefully guiding the silent girl to her common room. Abraxas had excused himself after exchanging some meaningful glances with the Rosier boy. He took it upon himself to take care of their younger friend.
"Because I'd like to leave this part of my life behind. Hogwarts is my chance to forget all of this, so please, let's never speak of it again," she pleaded, praying that he'd leave the issue alone.
She hated lying to her friends, but there wasn't much alternative. Thankfully, the boy nodded, and her shoulder sagged in relief.
Evan regarded her with a charming grin that instantly melted the chilling anxiety she'd felt in her chest.
"Just remember that I'm here for you, one word, and I'll give you a ring that you can shove into any of your bullies' faces," he teased, causing the younger witch to roll her eye at the insufferable boy.
"Why bother with a ring if my wand works just fine?" Hermione turned to look at the taller Slytherin, feeling her cheeks grow hot under his thoughtful gaze. After turning sixteen a fortnight ago, he was suddenly nearing the age Hermione had been in her previous life, with worrisome speed.
Mentally shaking her head, she buried her budding feelings for the Rosier heir in the deepest corner of her mind. She didn't have time for silly school romances or engagements. Why are the wizards in this era so eager to settle down? This can't be normal. Recalling the impressive number of her pureblood classmates already engaged, she shuddered. Definitely not happening.
"Am I really that unappealing to you, dear?" Evan's face was suddenly inches away from her own.
Hermione froze at their sudden proximity. She could count the golden specks mixed within the stunning green of his eyes. When Evan took her hands in his, gently rubbing his thumb over her skin, the world around them came to a screeching halt, and Hermione could feel the warmth radiating from his soft skin.
He inclined his face towards hers, and the moment his lips finally brushed against her mouth Hermione regained control over her traitorous limbs, hastily shoving the boy away from her.
"Don't."
Hurt flashed through his eyes, and Hermione felt her heart sink, she didn't know what to think or say to him, so before he could stop her, Hermione rushed past her friend towards the portrait of the fat lady. The woman waited until Hermione was only a few feet away before swinging open and ushering the distraught girl inside.
"Hermione, please wait!"
She ignored Evan's upset cry and ran up the stairs towards the dorm, her palms tightly pressed against her tingling lips...
"How could you do this? I thought you were my friend?" Minerva's accusing voice tore Hermione from her unrestful slumber.
Confused, she pulled herself up, rubbing her eyes to get rid of the sleep in them. When she finally managed to turn towards her fuming housemate, the memories of her previous encounter with Evan came rushing back into her head. Hermione mashed her hands against her cheeks at the memory of his warm mouth on her own. Merlin, what have I done?
"He told me you harassed him for weeks, telling him all sorts of lies about me." Tears were running down Minerva's blotched cheeks. However, Hermione's mind was still trying to comprehend her friend's words, so instead of calming the other girl down, she remained frozen on her bed.
"What are you talking about?" she rasped, her voice still rough from being woken up so suddenly.
"Stop pretending and just tell me!" Putting her hands on her hips, Minerva regarded her with a glare that could've frozen hell over.
"Tell you what, for Merlin's sake?" Hermione shot back, fed up with her friend's antagonising behaviour.
"Ignatius broke up with me because you told him you'd send your Slytherin cronies after him if he didn't." What?
"I'd never do that! You can't possibly believe that git." Hermione mentally slapped herself at her slip-up at the end.
Minerva's face contorted in anger. "That git is- was the first boy I ever liked, and you ruined it. I hate you!"
Hermione could only watch speechlessly as her upset housemate stormed out of their dorm, her billowing robes brushing against her ankles as she turned around. Shutting the door with more force than necessary, the other girl left Hermione to herself.
"What the hell just happened?" she murmured before pushing away her covers and heading towards the bathroom. Why would he tell her all those lies? She would've thought that after their little encounter, he'd listen to her warnings, but apparently, she'd been wrong.
At the thought of Minerva's tear-streaked face, her heart clenched. While she attempted to tame her curls into a semi-presentable updo, the young witch contemplated how to deal with this problem. The Holidays were fast approaching, leaving little time for her to fix things, and she didn't think cursing the boy again would help in this situation.
After finishing her morning routine, Hermione left for their last class this term, still deeply in thought. If that boy dares to show his face, I'll hex his tongue off...
"Lovely day, isn't it? You look a little distraught did something happen?" Riddle's cheerful voice pulled her from her thoughts.
The girl narrowed her eyes at his suspiciously good mood. He stepped beside her as they made their way towards the great hall, his whole attire as impeccable as always. Hermione instantly recognised the custom-tailored Robes she'd gotten for him last Christmas. They fit perfectly.
"It was you, wasn't it?"
They both knew what she was talking about, and his smug smirk was answer enough for the young Gryffindor witch. Her heartbeat quickened as it became clear that this was her punishment for breaking his rules, and she couldn't help herself when she shot him a baleful glare in return.
"See that you behave from now on."
She wondered how he'd convinced Prewett to tell Minerva all those awful things, but before she could ask him, they'd arrived at the great hall and went their separate ways towards their house tables.
Charlus was already sitting with Minerva, silently shaking his head as she made her way towards them. She felt her heart sink but decided she didn't want to cause another scene in front of their housemates. It still didn't hurt any less to know that Charlus was taking Minerva's side, even though she hadn't even had the chance to explain herself. Happy Christmas, Hermione...
The day after their fight, Minerva and most other students had left to spend Christmas or Yule in some of her other friends' cases at home, leaving only Hermione and a handful of other students behind. She'd decided not to return to Lestrange Manor. The thought of having to play house with Loreen and the baby- Edwin, she reminded herself, making her queasy. So, she'd written a short notice, telling everyone that she'd had to finish a crucial potions assignment and spend most of her time reading in the library.
On the last day of the year, Hermione had managed to pull herself together enough to seek out Riddle, who'd also stayed at Hogwarts, to wish him a happy birthday. She'd found him in the castle courtyard, sitting on one of the benches, the snow around him seemingly untouched.
"Impressive spellwork, I don't recognise it. Where did you find it?" she asked while sitting beside him, careful not to get too close to the Slytherin.
He turned his head at her sudden question, seemingly caught off guard by her casual behaviour towards him. She was still furious at him for pitting her best friend against her, but that didn't mean she couldn't play nice.
"One of Blishwick's early works, the book is awfully dry, but the spells are quite useful," he drawled.
Hermione made a mental note to look it up later. Riddle turned his attention back to an alarmingly familiar leather-bound journal on his knees, causing Hermione, in turn, to draw a hitched breath. Noticing her unusual reaction, Riddle raised one of his dark brows at her.
"I just remembered that I left your present in my room." Awkwardly rubbing her neck, Hermione gave the boy an apologetic smile.
"Bribes won't work on me." As he spoke those words, the last rays of sunshine vanished behind the castle's tall walls, causing the courtyard to darken rapidly.
Just as she opened her mouth to suggest they continue their conversation inside, hundreds of little sparkling lights appeared on the large tree in the middle of the court. Awestruck, Hermione stood up to gaze at the magical sight. In the future, the tree had been replaced by a small birdbath, so it was the first time she'd ever seen this happening.
"It's beautiful," she marvelled.
"It's said that Rowena Ravenclaw planted it for her daughter after her death. She enchanted it to light up during a new moon to guide her through the darkness."
Hermione wondered why she'd never heard about this, but then, she didn't have that many people to talk about romantic rendezvous places to begin with.
"This isn't mentioned anywhere in Hogwarts, A history," she said, surprised to see Riddle shake his head.
"I don't know which edition you're reading, but it's listed in mine."
Hermione hummed thoughtfully, pondering what would happen to it in the future. After admiring the tree for a few more seconds, she sat back on the bench with a heavy sigh.
" I missed that part, then. It's been a while since I read it anyway."
The two of them fell into a comfortable silence. Hermione was suddenly reminded of her time back at the orphanage. They'd sat together for hours, quietly enjoying their books. It felt surreal. Where did he even learn to read? Most of the other kids couldn't even spell their names correctly.
"I'm surprised they let you stay at Hogwarts."
Riddle cast her an annoyed glance but, to her surprise, still answered her indirect question.
"With the muggle war escalating, they made an exception for students who live in the non-magical parts of London."
Hermione's eyes widened at his statement, and she couldn't believe she'd forgotten about that. How can I forget the second world war, for Merlin's sake? The wizarding community really is cut off from the rest of the world.
"How surprisingly considerate of the headmaster."
"Dumbledore was against it, but Dippet convinced him in the end." Bitterness laced his voice.
Hermione suddenly felt guilt wash over her. She hadn't talked much with the older professor, only ever seeing him in class or at dinner. In the beginning, acting so distantly towards the man had felt strange. Still, after a while, Hermione realised that this Dumbledore wasn't the one that had helped them countless times in their quest to defeat Voldemort. He was much younger, his hair still Auburn and his clothes considerably less offending to the eye. There was no reason for her to approach him outside class, so she stopped worrying about the issue.
"I guess Hogwarts is a much better alternative to Wool's Orphanage." Bringing up their shared memories from that dreadful place was always a gamble. Riddle loathed his upbringing, but in Hermione, he'd found someone who could understand where his hatred for muggles truly stemmed from. His bias was something she'd shamelessly taken advantage of in the past and probably would, in the future, to make the boy more amendable to her opinions.
"Of course it is." Riddle tended to act differently when they were alone, less intense- or maybe he was just unusually high-spirited on some days. She'd forgotten he could be pretty tolerable when he wasn't cursing or threatening people. He'd been such an insufferable prat for the past months that it felt downright strange to have a normal conversation with the boy.
"I just came here to wish you a Happy Birthday. Again, you're always welcome to stay at Lestrange Manor," Hermione spoke softly, watching as the boy gave her an unreadable look.
"Thank you." His usually pale skin glowed in the warm lights of the tree.
When his grey eyes found hers, Hermione realised that the boy from her memories had been replaced by a young man. A man who soon will commit his first murder. Her heart skipped a beat. It was a terrifying thought. At fifteen, Tom Riddle wasn't just a troubled boy anymore. He had grown up, still unable to feel compassion for anyone and hellbent on making the wizarding world his own. This time around, in a more conventional way, but still. She didn't doubt that he would eliminate any threat on his mission for absolute power.
"Hermione?"
It was jarring to hear her name on his lips. His voice was no longer that of a boy but a young man. Like Evan's, it had begun to change over the past months, turning smoother and seemingly deeper whenever she had spoken to them after a few days of not seeing each other.
"Yes, Tom?" she answered, satisfied to see his lips curl for a split second at her use of his name.
"I appreciate you, but don't challenge me in front of the others from now on."
Hermione had stopped listening after his first few words, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his compliment.
"It was never my intention to do so."
"No more incidents from now on. I'll grant you more leeway once we get a foothold in the ministry."
Hermione could see the madness lurking behind his excited smile, and she knew that the next two years would determine what kind of wizard he would become one day.
For a moment, she thought about killing the boy, but his magical prowess was already far superior to hers, and the possibility that she'd fail grew with every passing year. In that case, he'd probably snap completely, reverting back to his snake-like future self, which was a risk Hermione wasn't willing to take anymore. She'd come too far to fail now. So, she decided to swallow her pride and agree to his request.
It would've been easier for her to defy Riddle hadn't he been so wickedly intelligent. Despite her best efforts, Hermione was still naturally drawn to people with great minds, and regardless of all his shortcomings, Riddle was still one of the brightest wizards she'd ever met. His understanding of magical theory was breathtaking for an academic mind like hers. No matter how twisted, his words still instilled respect for his achievements in her.
"I'll behave myself." She promised, earning herself a brilliant smile from the boy.
"I knew I could count on you, Hermione. You're a good friend."
His honeyed words embraced her body like a warm summer breeze, and Hermione felt her internal resolve weaken. It was so quiet, she could hear every breath he took, and she suddenly realised how close he had gotten. It would've been so easy to surrender and give up on her friends in the future at that moment. She would be over sixty years old when Harry and Ron would enter Hogwarts. They probably wouldn't even know her.
Would anything she did even affect the future she'd come from or was this just one of the millions and billions of parallel timelines, just as real as her previous one? Time Travel was a tricky subject. She was under no illusion that everything that had happened to her was highly improbable. Magic was inherently illogical, following its own laws and physics that she couldn't even begin to understand. What had come to Tom Riddle as naturally as breathing had taken her years of hard work and determination. Watching him cast wandless magic like it was the most natural thing in the world made her ill with envy.
On the other hand, his potential for greatness was the perfect lure for a person like herself. She strived in the presence of people like Riddle, the constant challenge pushing her to go beyond her limits and achieve far greater things than she could've ever imagined.
"We should retire inside; my spell wasn't created for such low temperatures."
At his words, Hermione forced her mind back to the present and only now did she notice that he had extended his spell to cover herself as well. Once he dropped it, she suddenly felt the chilling cold creep up her thinly clad legs and shuddered.
"You're right. If you'd like to accompany me to my common room, I can give you your present."
Riddle's eyes found her own as he nodded silently, and suddenly feeling uncomfortable about the whole situation, she hurriedly turned around and walked towards the Gryffindor Tower. He just turned my best friend against me. He's not a good person.
After she had given him the small box Rodolphus had owled her, the boy had excused himself, and Hermione found herself alone in the deserted common room. Sitting on one of the comfy leather chairs in front of the crackling fire, she let her mind wander. With Charlus and Minerva treating her like air, Hermione became painfully aware of how small her social circle truly was. Sure, there was Evan, but she didn't know how to act around the older boy after their kiss. Which left only Abraxas, and even though he wasn't bad company per se, he still wasn't Minerva. Absentmindedly letting her hands wander over the maroon jumper Mrs McGonagall had knitted as a Christmas present, Hermione felt tears forming behind her eyes. She suddenly felt incredibly alone, and her heart ached for the motherly embrace of the kind woman. What am I supposed to do now?...
