March 1945

As the academic year drew to a close, Hermione perched on the corner of a weathered windowsill in her dorm, gazing out at the bustling scene below. From her vantage point in the Gryffindor tower, situated on the far north side of the castle grounds, she had a stunning view of the rolling hills that surrounded the ancient castle. Abraxas may have been less than thrilled with the tower's location, but even he had to admit that it offered an unparalleled vista.

Observing the students scurrying about, Hermione couldn't help but smile at their youthful exuberance. One young first-year nearly stumbled over their slightly-too-long robes, reminding her that she too had once been just as small and inexperienced.

"There you are! Ready to go?" Minnie's chipper voice snapped Hermione out of her daydreaming.

"Been for a while. What took you so long?" Hermione followed her energetic friend through the portrait of the fat lady and kept pace beside her.

"Me? Which one of us decided to vanish suddenly into thin air after I left for a second?"

Both girls made their way down the ever-moving stairs, careful not to miss a step.

"I told you I was going to wait by the old alcove," Hermione reminded her.

"Sure, you did," Minny shot back with narrowed eyes.

"Anyways! Is Charlus joining us?"

She hadn't seen her other friend in ages. Since he was with Dorea most of the time and she was busy trying to keep Tom in line, there were few opportunities for them to hang out.

Minny rolled her eyes, "What do you think? He and his Slytherin beau have become inseparable in the past weeks. Must be 'cause we're leaving soon."

The two sat down at their house table in the great hall. Hermione reached for a clementine and began to peel the orange fruit absentmindedly.

"I guess that's normal," she murmured, amber eyes searching the hall for their friend. "Still a little annoying that he's leaving the rest of us hanging."

"Exactly!" Minny exclaimed while preparing her breakfast.

The two quickly finished their meals.

Their first lesson of the day was Arithmancy which Hermione looked forward to. Their current topic was challenging enough even for her, and nothing was more satisfying than solving a seemingly impossible calculation…


As the sun painted the sky crimson later that day, Hermione found herself sharing a table in the courtyard with Abraxas and Dolohov. They decided to review their current potion assignment since Slughorn liked to see his favourite pupils work together.

"We should ask Tom about this. I'm not sure this is what old Slughorn wants to read," Abraxas said.

Hermione stared at him incredulously. "Are you questioning my intelligence?"

"What? No, no, of course not. It's just"-

Dolohov intervened, "Despite his background, Riddle is still wickedly gifted. Not even you can deny that."

Hermione knew he was right, but that didn't stop her from frowning. Her answer was more than sufficient. She- they didn't need Tom Riddle's help.

Goosebumps ran down her spine at the thought of the older boy. After her rather pathetic breakdown in the library three months ago, she was still reeling.

Her heart had betrayed her on that fateful night, deciding that she no longer wanted to be the saviour of everyone. Make the world a better place. How could she have ever believed that the daunting task of saving Tom Riddle was even possible? Some people were just born rotten.

Abraxas rudely interrupted her thoughts, "What he said! Why do you find it so difficult to acknowledge his brilliance?"

"I'm not! My answer is just as right as his," Hermione replied, annoyed.

Abraxas gave up, "All right, all right, we won't ask. Happy?"

Hermione smirked, "Very," but both boys looked at her with deadpan expressions.

As she was about to turn her focus back on the assignment, Hermione remembered what Dolohov had said earlier. "Can I ask you two something?"

Dolohov agreed, "Sure."

Fumbling with her quill, Hermione leaned forward, "You said Tom is gifted despite his heritage"- She turned to look at Abraxas, "I remember a time when you weren't very impressed with him. What changed your mind?"

A tense silence followed her question.

Abraxas began, "Well, he is the heir of Slytherin. His muggle blood pales compared to the ancient magic he inherited."

Hermione furrowed her brows. Was this truly enough to make even the staunchest pureblood overlook his blood?

"But you knew he could speak to snakes for a long time; it didn't stop you from looking down on him."

"That was before he became the next Lord Slytherin. Even the Blacks aren't mad enough to pass on the opportunity to add a true descendant of one of the founders to their family tree," Abraxas explained.

Hermione wondered why Tom hadn't officially claimed his titles in her previous time. Then it hit her. Because he didn't know he could. Originally, no one had explained the finer details of how the magical world worked to Tom. Blended by his own ego, Voldemort was unaware he had a claim, and none of his followers knew of his true origins. The few who did know of his ability to speak parseltongue probably didn't even consider the ludicrous idea that the disgraced Gaunt family had procreated after Merope and Morfin.

"So, because the ministry gave him a fancy ring and a few seats in the Gamot, his blood suddenly doesn't matter anymore?" Hermione asked, finding it hard to believe.

"Essentially," Abraxas answered.

Hermione was furious. She had been hunted and tortured because of her parentage, yet Tom was allowed to pass as one of them despite his Muggle father. It felt like a slap in the face.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered.

"We're all hypocrites, Lestrange. You're lucky that you supported him from day one. He'll become a powerful ally in the future." Dolohov spoke as he pulled back some strands of dark hair from his face.

It was infuriating how everything Tom Riddle desired was somehow handed to him on a silver platter. He was perfect in every sense of the word. Brilliant, attractive, and now seemingly above judgement. It boggled her mind how the slight boy she'd met at the orphanage all those years ago had turned into this paragon of magical prowess. Never in her life would she have thought it possible for a half-blood, no matter how talented, to be accepted by the ancient and most noble house of Black.

"He'll go far. We're just following along the ride to reap the fruits of his labour," Abraxas chuckled.

"You're-You're such a Slytherin!" she sputtered.

"Oh, you just realised that now?"

Abraxas scurried away from her as she lifted her hand, aiming for his upper arm. They bickered for a while longer before returning their attention back to the forgotten potion assignment...


May 1945

With the end of her time at Hogwarts fast approaching, Hermione found herself grappling with the future that awaited her. While she had plans to continue managing the Lestrange family finances under Rodolphus' tutelage, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was little else she could do. After her nomination as her father's successor, she'd quickly come to realise, how little she was actually gaining from it. Despite being named as the next head of her house, she remained barred from attending any gatherings or participating in any voting until her father officially abdicated, which she found ridiculous.

As she sat in the common room, mulling over her options, Minny burst in, her excitement palpable. "I've just handed in my application for the teaching exam at the Ministry. I can start at Hogwarts in two years if all works out."

"That's amazing, Minny! Imagine you teaching my children someday," Charlus chimed in, having finally managed to detach himself from his beloved long enough to spend an entire evening with Minerva and Hermione. It felt nice to have him back.

"Merlin, I don't know if I want to," Minny replied, causing Charlus to protest.

As they chatted, Hermione couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at their idle chatter. With Tom's Ministry ascendance looming on the horizon, she knew that her own future was uncertain at best. While her father had made it clear that she would be expected to dedicate most of her time to official Lestrange business, Hermione couldn't bear the thought of spending her days cooped up in the manor with little else to occupy her time. She doubted that her father would let her pursue a career, and there weren't many options available for women these days. It was practically social suicide for a witch of her pedigree to get a regular job.

"So, besides having a bunch of mini-mes with yours truly, what do you want to do?" Minny asked Charlus.

"Since Dorea will be here for one more year, I'll use the time to travel around the isles. Maybe stay with my cousins for a bit. They collect and sell rare magical artefacts," Charlus replied.

Interested, Minny smiled. "That sounds mighty fascinating. You wouldn't mind if I visited you from time to time, would you?"

The two of them laughed, agreeing to see each other regularly.

"What about you, Mione? Any great schemes we should know about?" Charlus turned to her.

She didn't want to let on to her friends how insecure she felt about her future, so she kept her fears close to her heart, only saying that she would spend most of her time with her father and managing the estate.

"Sounds dreadfully dull. Make sure to visit me often. I'll entertain you," Charlus said, winking at her.

Hermione's heart clenched as she thought about losing her few precious friends after they left Hogwarts. She longed for a few months of freedom more than anything else at this point. Maybe she could travel the world instead of being stuck with her family. Rodolphus would probably throw a fit but might be convinced if she played her cards right.

"I will. Can't have you two forget about me after we leave this place," Hermione joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Charlus grinned, "You're stuck with me for life! Maybe I'll even make you two the godparents of my children."

Minny teased Charlus, "Will you stop it with your imaginary children already? I feel sorry for Dorea."

Charlus chuckled, "You're just jealous."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. The thought of being trapped in her family's expectations weighed heavily on her. But for now, she joined in her friends' laughter. She could worry about her future another time...


June 1945

"Alright everyone, this is it - our final time leaving this train!" Charlus declared, taking Dorea's hand and helping her to stand just as the train came to a screeching halt, white steam blocking their view from the windows.

"This feels weird," Minny mumbled as she put on her coat, the absence of their school uniforms a reminder of their new freedom.

Hermione nodded in agreement, pressing her lips together as she fidgeted with the frills on her airy robes. She couldn't help but feel like a proper lady, something she rarely experienced in her original time. Her thoughts drifted to the comfort of her jeans and she furrowed her brow, trying to remember the feeling of denim on her legs.

"Everyone ready?" Charlus asked from the entrance of their compartment. Hermione nodded, and they all made their way outside.

"Let's go." Hermione chanced one last glance at the worn seats behind them.

As she closed her eyes and inhaled the familiar scent of her childhood, she was hit with a wave of nostalgia. She had never finished school before, and the realization that everything from this point on would be new was both exciting and terrifying.

"Hermione, you coming?" Minnie's warm hand found her own, and she allowed her friend to pull her off the train.

Charlus rubbed his neck to dispel the sudden awkwardness. None of them knew how to say goodbye without the certainty that they'd see each other again in a few months. "Well, I guess we'll be off then. Don't forget to write!" he finally said, giving them one last smile before vanishing into the busy crowd with Dorea next to him.

Minerva sighed, "There he goes. I should also leave; my parents are probably already waiting outside the station."

Biting her lips, Hermione somehow managed to force a watery smile on her face. "Tell them I said hi."

Pulling her into a brief hug, Minerva nodded into the crook of her neck. "Will do. Now I really need to go."

Hermione swallowed hard but allowed her friend to leave her arms. "Bye, Minny." Her attempt to sound cheerful failed miserably.

"See you soon!" Minny regarded her with a final smile before turning around and making her way towards the exit.

Sighing, Hermione turned to look for her relatives, doubting anyone would be waiting for her. It stung. Usually, at least Winny would pick her up, but her dear elf was gone, and now she was hoping to see the faces of the people who were responsible for her death. She was pathetic.

Just as she was about to make her way towards the public floo gate, two strong arms grabbed her from behind and twirled the startled girl through the air.

"Wha"-

Painfully familiar curls suddenly obscured her vision as she was pulled into a broad chest.

"Sorry I'm late, love. There are a lot of people here."

Hermione let out a choked laugh as she recognised Evan's deep voice next to her ear.

"What are you even doing here?"

Pulling away from him, she drank in his handsome features, nearly losing herself in his viridian eyes. The butterflies that had been absent for almost a year returned in full force.

"I'm so happy to see you, Evan. Thanks for picking me up!" The young man spoke in a high-pitched voice, earning himself a light swat on the shoulder.

"I'm so happy to see you, Evan. Thanks for picking me up," Hermione parrotted, cheeks stinging from her broad smile.

Evan leaned down to pick up her small suitcase before holding out his arm. She eagerly took it, warm affection for the wizard welling up her chest.

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now, don't worry. I asked your father if I may steal you for a few days." Evan spoke, his eyes scanning the platform for something.

"You did? Why?" Hermione tugged at his sleeve. "Are you even listening to me?"

Evan rewarded her with a cheeky smile that made her feel all kinds of giddy. Those dimples. Merlin. I missed that boy.

"We're celebrating your graduation." He finally seemed to have found what he was looking for and pulled her towards a sign that read International Portkey Station.

Growing increasingly suspicious of her grinning companion, Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Evan, where are we going?"

He chuckled, "Venice, of course!"

Hermione had no chance to object as he took her hand and pressed a small button between their palms. Instantly, the world surrounding them transformed into a kaleidoscope of swirling colours...