A/N: Thank you for your reviews, favorites and follows after the last chapter! Also, thanks for the patience on getting this chapter out. I have a sick child at home right now, so it was a little tough yesterday. Huge thanks to lanamarymack and Angela 007 for their work alpha/beta reading! You can follow on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-three and be on the lookout for chapter forty-four next week!
Hermione grew to absolutely love living in Riddle Manor. Despite its unusual history, she quite enjoyed restoring the many disused rooms to their former glory and found the grounds to be stunning. She knew that it would be a lovely place to raise Caroline. She envisioned a future where she would give her daughter age appropriate lessons in the library in the mornings, before letting her roam around and climb the trees that lined the path up to the front door of the house. Hermione herself thought about getting a whole gaggle of half-kneazles, despite knowing that none could ever hope to replace Crookshanks.
Although it had been a pleasant dream, she quickly squared with the reality that her future was here in the past, not some terrible future that she had come from. Her presence here and her unwitting interventions in Tom Riddle's life meant that the future she had come from was well and truly gone. What future was going to be created in its place was still left to be determined.
But, as the days turned into weeks, Hermione realized that she could not spend all of her time squirreled away in Riddle Manor, hiding. She needed the human interaction - she couldn't spend all her time talking to a House Elf, no matter how pleasant she was. Tom had not visited since they had spoken, which she was grateful for, though he had sent ahead some boxes, with a rather arrogant note that it was for when they moved in together, eventually.
Hermione was pleased that he was finally going to pry himself from some of Malfoy's clutches, the townhouse being a method to control and ingratiate. Another part of her was still too cross with her husband for not simply listening to her thoughts on the matter and making all the decisions for them. He didn't listen to her until it was too late.
Alfie visited occasionally, too, though she knew that he was feeling immensely guilty for revealing her location to Tom. They had a long talk about it one evening after Caro went to bed, over a bottle of elf-made wine, and hashed things out. She knew that Alfie wanted what was best for her and made the decision he had because of his insistence that Tom made her happy.
And, he had made her happy once. But, she wasn't sure if he still could.
She thought about telling Alfie everything, about coming from the future, about his future, about knowing his son, but she had held back. The less people that knew the truth of her circumstances, the better. She didn't fancy answering millions of questions that she didn't have the answers to. It wasn't as if she studied any of Tom's earliest followers.
Another part of her worried that Alfie might be repulsed by her if he knew the truth. It was one thing that she was muggleborn, and he'd seemed to overlook it. It was another thing if she was fighting to kill Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And, she couldn't give up the one friend that she had. Although, Alfie was quite insistent that the rest of the Knights missed her, too. Dolohov and Evan in particular passed along their regards.
Oh Godric, if only Dolohov knew what enemies they would be in the future. She still wore a small scar from where he'd cursed her when she was a fifth year!
To get the human interaction that she needed (and a bit of fresh air), Hermione had started a new Saturday morning ritual. She would tuck Caroline into her pram before making the walk towards the muggle town center to do the shopping for the week. This, of course, necessitated her changing some of her money into muggle pounds, but the goblins at Gringotts were only too happy to accommodate, sending her a portion of paper notes once a week.
It was nice to blend in with people who had no idea that she was a witch from decades in the future who had unwittingly married the darkest wizard who ever lived. There was basically no chance that she should run into anyone who knew who she was at all. They all left her and Caro to their shopping, except for the occasional older lady who would stop to coo over her adorable daughter. And, Caro was the most gorgeous baby she'd ever known, so Hermione couldn't really blame them.
By the time that August was coming to its close, Hermione had really let her guard down and didn't even notice the wizard stalking her in the shop until she came face to face with him over the display of citrus. When she caught sight of the purple robes, her hand immediately stilled where it rested on top of a lemon.
She clenched her teeth together while she gathered her thoughts. "Dumbledore," she said, furiously. "What are you doing here?"
"You are a hard witch to get a hold of, Miss Granger," he said, with a genial smile.
Hermione shook her head. "I've told you before to call me Mrs. Riddle," she insisted. Even though she wasn't happy with Tom at the moment, Hermione had not forgotten that this was an intended slight by Dumbledore.
"I'd heard that there was perhaps trouble in paradise," he said, tilting his head to look at her. Hermione shuddered, feeling rather like he was trying to get inside of her head. "Have you not...absconded with your daughter and left your husband behind?"
She knew that she had to approach this situation cautiously. "You obviously have no idea what you are talking about," she said with a sniff. "Tom and I made the decision to move somewhere more suitable to raising children."
"And you chose Little Hangleton," Dumbledore said, looking around the muggle market with a smirk. "I might be mistaken, but I believe that Tom's family lived near Little Hangleton."
She could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest, hammering away against her rib cage. She did not like the subtle way that Dumbledore was suggesting he knew where she and Caroline lived. Being in the Fidelus protected home had given Hermione a sense of security, but Dumbledore popping up while she was doing her shopping had unnerved her.
"Don't presume to be so familiar with my husband," she insisted, with a sniff. She wasn't sure how deeply this Albus had looked into Tom Riddle's origins at this point, but she didn't like the idea that he was poking around suddenly. It especially angered her because when she had originally come to this time, she had gone to him with knowledge about Voldemort, hoping that Dumbledore would be the one person who would listen to her and understand the kind of threat he was.
"This is merely a pleasant chat, Hermione," he said, wearing a sardonic smile.
"Really? Because it feels like an ambush," she hissed back. "This isn't the time or the place, Albus."
"Alright, then meet me across the street. There is a pub. We can talk there, privately," he suggested, though Hermione got the feeling that it was more of an order. She did not think that he would leave her if she did not agree.
"Fine, just give me fifteen minutes to sort my shopping," she said, hesitantly.
Satisfied, Albus left her behind. As soon as he left, she made her way to the check out, before slipping out of the store and into the secluded alley behind the store. She called for Honey and the little house elf popped over in a matter of seconds.
"Take Caro and the groceries home, I have to meet with someone," Hermione instructed her. "And, Honey...if I am not home by nightfall, go get Tom."
The house elf seemed surprised by the direction, but agreed anyway. Confident that Caroline was going to be well looked after, she went to face down Dumbledore. Entering the pub, she found him in a booth away from any other patrons, with a measure of brandy in front of him. Squaring her shoulders, she faced him head on.
She slipped into the opposite bank from him and looked at him. "I don't see what we could possibly have to talk about now, Albus," she said, staring him down. "I already came to you with my concerns, many years ago."
"What-?" he asked, looked concerned and confused.
"Yes, I remember what you did to me," she said, letting some of her anger for the wizard bubble up inside of her. "Seems like you aren't quite as adept with memory charms as you'd hoped."
She could barely conceal the snarl she wore. It was strange to see Albus Dumbledore now, so different from the man that she thought she knew. She had greatly respected him when she was at Hogwarts, as he always found a way to make things work out. But, after he died, she had begun to learn another side of him that had quickly tarnished his memory. The fact that he'd known Harry was a horcrux all along and completely unwilling to help him avoid a certain death really turned her stomach. She'd never realized just how devoted he was to something as silly as a prophecy.
It was strange to see him now, evidently much more rash and righteous than the man she'd known first. Though he didn't have the long white beard, just a close cropped auburn one, his blue eyes did still hint that he was meddling where he shouldn't.
He leaned forward, suddenly serious. "If you remember everything, then surely you see what a danger Tom Riddle is to our world," he said, pressing his hands on the table. "We really need to do something about it."
Hermione wished he would have said the same thing all those years ago when she'd first approached him. Before she'd gotten to know the man that Tom was today, she would have jumped at the chance. But now...now she had a much more complicated view of Tom. As much as she wished it, he was not just a dark wizard that needed to be eliminated. And, she didn't know if she could hold him to account for crimes he had not committed.
"I wonder what's changed now, Albus," she said, tilting her head to one side. "That you believe me now, but you did not believe me before. Instead, you took everything away from me. You took valuable knowledge from me that left me completely unaware of who Tom was. If you hadn't, I might not have found him so charming. You even let me marry him, have a child with him. How dare you think you can take that back now!"
"You have to understand, you said a phrase that Gellert uses all the time," he tried to explain himself. "For the greater good."
Hermione barred her teeth. "Oh, I assure you, it's a phrase you are all too fond of in the future," she insisted, feeling utter disdain for the man.
It became clear to her that this was the man that he always was. The wizard who was so self-important that he made sweeping decisions without any concern for the lives that he touched along the way. What did it matter to him if Harry Potter had to die or if Hermione Granger forgot who she was? It was all for the greater good. Only, it was only the greater good as Albus Dumbledore imagined it.
Yes, she could be mad at Tom for the things he'd done with the added context of the man he might become in the future. But, she also could not forgive Dumbledore for the things that he had done to her. Especially when he still offered no apology. He did not even attempt to right the wrongs he'd made against her. He was the sole cause of this whole situation. Had he not interfered with her memory, she would not have found herself so irrevocably in love with Tom Riddle.
"I think that we are done here," she said, standing up abruptly, before she did something dangerous. She was not the same witch she had been when she arrived in the past. Too much had changed.
"Please, Hermione, I implore you to see reason," he said, grabbing at her wrist. "I know that you know he needs to be stopped. I can stop him with your help!"
She pulled her hand out of his grasp, disgusted with him. "You want my help now, do you?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "Now that he's my husband and the father of my child? Now that it would be a great sacrifice?"
"I know you will do what's right," he said, earnestly, obviously not giving up on her yet. "Did you know that he's already called for another election? Edmond Lestrange has called for another election. It will go ahead in just two weeks. We both know that Tom cannot be trusted with that kind of power. Think of the destruction he would bring on us all."
Hermione had not heard that yet. It was a surprise, and she couldn't believe that Alfie hadn't mentioned it. "I believe that Tom is the master of his own fate," she answered. "If he tries to follow the same platform as before, he will lose again. What are you worried about, Dumbledore? That he might actually win this time?"
"He can lie as easily as anyone," he answered. "He is pure evil. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants."
Hermione stilled for a moment, thinking on his words. Six years ago, she would have agreed whole-heartedly, but she wasn't sure if that was the case now.