authorsnote: here we go...

we move it along, with some lore! (I love HP lore, do you?)

songrecs: say yes to heaven - lana del rey


'Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time'

- Marthe Troly-Curtin

-x-

Come the weekend she was glad to escape the confines of the Castle.

Not only, because it meant she didn't have Tom Riddle making her feel all kinds of confusing things, but because it was exhausting keeping up the ruse, she knew it would take time, and she would settle in, but right now, she just felt tired.

Tired that she was in the wrong time, tired that she had to lie about being a pureblood, tired that she was alone, tired that she was an outcast.

Just tired.

And so, the chance to get out of Hogwarts, get away from Tom, and even give herself a distraction was welcome.

And so, Saturday morning she slipped out of the dormitory before anyone could catch her, she was used to being an early riser, and so had no problem slipping into a set of plain black robes (she wouldn't dare buy nor wear muggle clothing here), before heading straight to Professor Dumbledores office, she'd head straight to Diagon Alley from his floo and have some time to think alone.

When she arrived, he had a smile for her, and a twinkle in his eye, "Miss Granger, I presume you are here to go to Diagon Alley?"

"Yes Professor" She said with a nod and relieved smile, "I was hoping you had the documents ready and I could use your floo"

"Of course, of course" He said, standing up, picking up some parchment off his desk as he did so, he handed to her and she took it, before glancing down. It was a simple piece of parchment, a letter from Dumbledore attesting to who she was, a magical signature with her new name, that was all Gringotts would require.

She remembered as a Muggle Born, opening her vault, they'd scanned her magical core, and set her up with paperwork just like this, now though Hermione Granger didn't have a vault, Hermione Dagworth-Granger needed one though.

It made her frown and feel a jerk in her heart that she was setting up a life here, she knew she had no choice, she knew that returning to her time was more than unlikely, but it still hurt, it felt like giving up.

It felt like acceptance.

"On you go Miss Granger" Dumbledore said, pulling her from her melancholy with a kind smile, she managed a stiff one back before she nodded, and made her way to the Floo.

"Oh wait" She paused, turning around, she bit down on her lip, a little embarrassment crawling up her spine, but she had to be practical, "I don't have any money, I hate to ask but considering my circumstances…" She said, shaking her head, she could feel her cheeks heating.

"All taken care of Miss Granger" Dumbledore said with a glint in his eye, "You will have funds at Gringotts"

She felt relief chase through her, and she nodded, turning back, stepped into the Floo, and took a handful of green powder, she turned back again, and did manage a real smile as Dumbledore gave her a wave before she yelled, "Diagon Alley"

And with a flash she was gone.


The Alley had not changed at all.

In fact, it was almost disconcerting, as she landed in the Leaky Cauldron just how similar it was. Yes, the bartender was not Tom, and of course she didn't recognise any of the patrons, but that was it. The Wizarding dress sense of long Wizarding robes hadn't changed, though she did note no muggle clothes, that hadn't bled in yet.

She made her way to the back of the alley, and tapped the bricks, unsurprised that the combination too remained the same, it had been here long before she'd came, and long after she'd leave.

And so she entered Diagon Alley.

She did notice differences, a few of the shops, and everything did look a little more old fashioned, and there was no muggle influence at all, she was thankful she hadn't thought to transform any muggle clothes and had stuck with a plain version of her Hogwarts robes, she imagined jeans wouldn't go down well here.

She imagined any muggle-ness wouldn't go down well here.

She had to remind herself she was in a different world as she made her way to the bank, Gringotts of course was unchanged, but plenty else had. She was keeping a pureblood persona to ensure she wasn't in danger, but as a woman she had to remember the gender differences of this time, she was one of the few Slytherin and Hogwarts female students for a reason.

The 80's hadn't been completely progressive, but this was different all together, and she needed to remember that.

As she made her way to the bank she adjusted her robes, kept a hand on her wand in her pocket, (though technically she was not of age, she would use her wand if needed though), and kept glancing around. She was no longer on war-footing, but old habits died hard.

She was quick to make her way to Gringotts, and she did feel some comfort that it looked unchanged. The same exterior, the same Goblins eyeing her up and down as she stepped through, the same desks setup with Goblins side by side, stacks of galleons next to them, all the same.

It was a comfort, and one she held onto, so few around her.

She cleared her throat as she approached the Gringotts desk, nervous, but she didn't have any reason to be, she trusted Dumbledore to have ensured her secret wasn't revealed, it wouldn't be good for anyone if it was.

"Hello" She said politely, the Goblin just glared down at her, but she did not flinch, "I'm here to check on my vault" She said as neutrally as possible, she didn't know if Dumbledore had set up her vault already or if she needed to open one, she didn't want to be ignorant, it would look suspicious if she didn't know why she were here.

She hated it, the fact she had to think through every decision twice, yes she was used to that to some extent with all she'd been through with Harry and Ron, but this felt different, like she was already marred in lies, and having to keep them up, check everything she said and not mess up.

And she was alone, no friends to rely on now.

Only Tom Riddle, who she could not and would not trust, but goodness, she realised with a flinch, he was the closest thing she had to a friend, in terms of people she'd spoken to, of people who knew anything about her.

That was a horrifying thought.

"Name" The Goblin said with a raised eyebrow.

"Hermione Dagworth-Granger" She was proud that her voice didn't tremble.

Her mind went to when she'd been here as a first year, terrified, confused, excited all wrapped up in one. Her parents had been side by side with her, eyes wide, they'd handed over Muggle money to exchange for Galleons, had opened a vault for her, one of the newest and nearest the surface, the old family vaults were further down, hers was not.

Now, she was in a completely different situation, a different time, and it was just her, no family, no parents eyes wide in a different world that she too was getting used to, she knew this world now; or did she?

"Upon repatriation to the UK, to retrieve your family vault key you will be subject to magical identification" The Goblin paused then, and seemed to sneer, "For security reasons of course"

"Of course" She said with a nod, her heart fluttered in her chest, she thought staying quiet was better than lying.

She had been expecting for Dumbledore to have arranged a new vault for her, using her new name, she had not expected to be given the vault of her fake family who had died, she felt a squirm of guilt but kept her expression neutral, as the Goblin looked down at her.

"Papers?" He definitely sneered that time, and she jumped, and handed over the parchment Dumbledore had given to her, the Goblin scanned it, but then turned to her, she heard what sounded like a chime, and he stamped a form on her desk, twice, before he held out a key to her.

"As the Dagworth-Granger vault has been kept in magical suspension due to a lack of Heirs, no interest has been acquired, however no funds have been removed, outside of standing charges" He said, reading them from a list on the parchment. "As the vault is now transferred to you as Dagworth-Granger Heir, any future claims will be waived, please sign"

The Goblin rolled out a piece of parchment then, longer than her forearm, she was glad she could speed read as she quickly darted her gaze back and forth over the vault contract, that simply explained the vault was hers, as were all its contents, charges for any new keys etc, all standard stuff. She did note it was much longer and more complicated than the simple one she'd signed when she'd opened her own vault, lots more about security, about private entrances to the bank.

"Do you wish to visit your vault?" The Goblin asked and she nodded, even as she felt guilty, she needed this, she had no money, nothing in this time, she couldn't afford to turn down a vault that would otherwise be ignored, and was now, by right, hers.

Fraudulent right, but a right all the same according to Gringotts.

"Yes thank you" She said , and the Goblin nodded, ushered to one of his colleagues, whom she followed to the cart, climbed in, tucked her hands into her lap, and they were off.

And she noted, the journey was much longer than any had been to her own vault, the Dagworth-Granger vault didn't sit among the oldest family vaults such as the Malfoys or the Blacks, but it was just above those of the Sacred 28, and as the Goblin indicated for her to go forward, and promised to wait for her, she reminded herself that the Dagworth-Granger family was prestigious. She could certainly do worse.

And as she opened the vault, she realised just how true that was.


Half an hour later, she had a bag full of Galleons, and her head was spinning a little.

The vault had been brimming with Galleons, Sickles, Knuts, more than she could spend in a lifetime, but there had been more than that. There had been property deeds, a chest full of jewellery, a wand case filled with family wands, labelled and stored (she'd hadn't given them a swish, she didn't want her Goblin guide poking around), some Potions trophies, fancy books she'd had to drag herself away from and a deed she had allowed herself to gawp over for the original Society for Potioneer Group.

Her bag was full, and next she went door to door in Diagon Alley, the weather was cold, there was no threat of rain, but as much as she was glad to get out of Hogwarts for a while, she did feel out of place, and so hurried to the first shop.

She was in and out of Mr Mulpepper's Apothecary, Dumbledore had given her a list of school supplies that was barely different to those she'd received from Professor McGonagall in her start of term letters.

And so, in and out of the Apothecary, the same for Potages Cauldrons, Scibbulus Writing Instruments saw to all of her quills, parchments and ink pots, she had no need for Olivanders, and touched her wand as she passed it, so thankful that if anything had come through time with her, that had.

Madam Malkins must have been a family shop, as the same place stood, where she was quickly measured not only for school clothes, dress robes, but also several sets of Witches robes to wear around the Castle, she also indulged in a comfortable black travelling cloak with some silver embroidery, her family vault, fake or not, was deep enough. By the time she paid for what was effectively a new wardrobe at Malkins, she was glad to escape to Flourish and Blotts.

Once she'd scooped up the books for the school curriculum she allowed herself to linger, she felt at home as the smell of books comforted her, but she knew she was on a timer, and so she only picked up four different new volumes for reading, only one on time travel, she didn't want to be obvious.

And then, it was time to.

She did feel a pang as she passed the Quidditch shops, for Harry and Ron, and she paused outside the Magical Menagerie, debating stepping inside, but then she thought of Crooks, and knew no familiar would compare, and with a sad smile, thinking of her pet, knowing at least Harry and Ron would ensure she was taken care of, she moved on.

And she was done, most of the day gone.

She did linger though, heading into Obscurus Books, there she picked up one more volume, but mainly to stop herself needing to head back to Hogwarts.

Here, as sad at it was not to see anyone she knew, to see subtle changes to the Alley, to be Dagworth-Granger, not just Granger, it was better than Hogwarts.

Where everything felt exhausting.

And she knew who to blame for that.

She shouldn't have brought attention to him, should have flown under his radar, shouldn't have baited him, as now his attention was fixed on her, and she hated it, hated having to lie so much, hated how tired she felt keeping up the act, but gods more than anything…

She hated how each moment spent with him felt easier than any other moment of this mess she'd been immersed into.

She remembered his hand in hers, how it had been painfully comforting, and she closed her eyes as she left the bookshop, felt tears bite at her, for how confusing all this was, how tired she was, and that longing…

"Thinking of me?"

She near jumped out of her skin.

Because of course, even as she craved him, even as she wished to be as far away from him as possible, she opened her eyes and there he stood, opposite her, grinning – smirking more like, hand tucked in his pocket, and his eyebrow raised as he came to her side, and like a gentleman took her bags.

"What are you doing here?" She blurted out, so shocked she let him take her bags, even followed as he tucked an arm through hers and led her not back to the Leaky Cauldron but back into the Alley, she felt like she'd just been knocked off a broom, and was perhaps walking because she might be hallucinating, "What-?"

"Hermione don't be slow" He chided, and she spluttered, and he did grin then, not smirk, grin, "I'm here to pick you up, our illustrious Headmaster may not like me getting close to you, for whatever reason he naturally dislikes me, but I am the Slytherin Prefect, and so Professor Slughorn volunteered me"

"I'm sure I know why Dumbledore dislikes you" She murmured, but by his smirk coming back in an instance, she knew he heard, and then she looked at him again.

"But" She spluttered again, even as she'd wanted to return, to see him, as much as her mind screamed traitor, she didn't want him to show up, everything felt like it was out of her control, like she'd missed a step on the stairs and was continually falling, unable to right herself.

"Where are we going?" She asked, shaking her head, like she'd been submerged under water, "Where are you taking me?"

She blinked, looking around, but then he was hustling her into a shop, and her eyes widened to find herself in the shop she'd passed earlier; the Magical Menagerie.

"Why are we here?" She asked, turning, collecting herself, raising an eyebrow and a glare, "You don't strike me as the pet type"

"I'm not" He said, and his expression certified that, "But I did pick a ginger cat out of your thoughts, your parents maybe? Still, you should get another one, what is a Witch without her familiar?"

Now that shocked her.

She didn't splutter this time, but her eyes widened, her mouth drifted open before she shut it, and tears bit at her eyes, she didn't even think to chide him for reading her memories, didn't think to wonder what else he'd read, instead she stumbled.

Was … was Tom Riddle trying to do something nice for her?

"I…" She said, not sure what to focus on, and so- "Crooks can't be replaced"

"No" Tom said, and he somehow sounded even kind, had he known she'd struggle with this? Did he understand, even if he didn't know when she was from, did he get that she was struggling? So out of place she was finding herself drawn to her best friends worst enemy?

Of course, he couldn't know all of that, but did he sense how out of place she felt?

And he was trying to help?

Was Tom Riddle trying to comfort her?

"But, as I said, what's a Witch without her familiar? And it would make you happy, wouldn't it?" He shrugged, why was he trying to make her happy? He had nothing to gain from this, but as she opened her mouth, the Owners voice interrupted, asking to help them, and for the moment she had to drop it.

For the moment at least.

And so, she turned away from the enigma that was Tom Riddle (perhaps far more mysterious than she'd realised), and asked the Owner about cats, but as he showed her the wall of cages, all those that preened in front of her, she turned away; Crooks had been unique, that's what she'd loved about him, he'd been like her.

Different.

"Do you have any that haven't sold?" She asked, Tom laughed, the Owner of the Menagerie raised an eyebrow, but nodded, and went out back.

"I should have known you wouldn't just want a cute cat" Tom laughed, and she found herself smiling.

Smiling with Tom Riddle.

She was fucked.

But she wasn't running away this time, was she?

"You'll have to pay for it yourself I'm afraid" Tom said quickly then, it was only his sheer confidence she knew stopping any shame, "I'm a poor orphan, and apparently you're a Dagworth-Granger rich girl" There was no bitterness in his tone, odd.

"Oh, little rich me?" She mocked, "I'd rather have my parents" She said, almost chiding him.

"I wouldn't" Tom grimaced, "Money sounds better"

She would have laughed but she could see it wasn't a joke, knew it wasn't, something flashed in his gaze that wasn't a cruel joke, but something more, she barely saw it though before the Owner returned, holding a pure white cat that had to have a little kneazle in it, a squashed face, and a deadly glare, piercing blue eyes and a tail that swished back and forth promising violence, the owner was wearing gloves but she spied a scratch up his arm.

"This is Snowball" The Owner said with a barely concealed grimace, attempting a smile, perhaps hoping for the sale, praying and hoping, "He isn't the friendliest, but I'm sure at a good home…" He began.

Hermione didn't need to hear anymore.

Especially, as she stepped forward and just knew what would happen, and it did; Snowball settled happily into her arms, glared and swiped at Tom, but tucked his little head under her chin with an almighty purr, the Owner looked at her like he wanted to run from her or recruit her as she handed over a mere 5 galleons, and then she was grinning now, no more tears, as Tom led her from the shop, her bags in his hands, and Snowball in hers.

They looked like a couple out shopping in the Alley as she cooed at Snowball, and took Toms arm, past the shops they went, and he began to talk about the book he'd spied in her bag, the text on Defensive Charms she'd picked up in Flourish and Blotts, and from there the conversation was easy.

She had Snowball, never a replacement for Crooks but a companion, in her arms, Tom matching her point for point on intelligent conversation, and as they flooed back to Hogwarts (to Slughorns office, who waved them on), and he walked them to their Common Room, and she didn't stick out, no one bullied her, or called her Mudblood (even if it was a lie), and they continued to chat.

Snowball swiped at Abraxas Malfoy as they passed, and Tom laughed, and she realised, eyes wide and starry, fuck, she realised…

For the first time since she'd ended up here, scared, confused, alone … she was happy.

Happy.


thoughts?

is hermione drinking the koolaid? we will see... don't judge her too harshly, she is all alone and tom knows exactly what he is doing

also I had to give hermione a familiar, introducing snowball! think white persian grumpy cat but a little bigger to accommodate the part kneazle. and yes ofc he hates everyone but hermione.

do review