authorsnote: dum dum dum

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songrecs: skinny love - birdy


They arrived at the Burrow with a crack.

As soon as they landed, she dropped his hand, and ignored the smirk he offered her as she did so. She offered a glare in return.

She may have agreed to be civil with him, he may have been attractive and working with her, but she'd die before she willingly held Tom Riddle's hand.

Sure, he was not Lord Voldemort; not yet, but he was on his way there.

And yet … when he'd cupped her face she'd bent her neck willingly, she supposed she could blame it on the past few days, the exhaustion she still felt, the horrors she had seen, but she might have just been kidding herself.

"If you're going to stand around all day I'd rather do it where I can sit and read at least" Riddle drawled as she snapped out of her own thoughts and he held out an arm to indicate for her to step closer. They'd apparated just off the side path of the Burrow so not to be heard, they were disillusioned but needed to be quiet and Hermione quickly cast a cushioning spell on their feet so to silence their steps.

"You know normal people actually feel things" Her snark wasn't helpful, but she couldn't help it, injecting venom into her tone as they crept forwards, they were well hidden but she didn't want to risk anything being disturbed as they approached.

If she were seen here, with Riddle at her side … it would invite too many questions, and she couldn't risk it, she just needed to know everyone was alive and then they could go.

Back to her exile.

Her voluntary exile, to stop Tom Riddle, ala Voldemort Junior taking over the world.

Just how she was going to do that she was still unsure, but she knew involving anyone else would just overcomplicate matters, she had a tough enough job as it was.

"I feel things" She could hear the false offence in his voice, and she looked back at him so he could see her roll her eyes, it unsettled her as he grinned, it had a slightly evil quality to it but mainly looked mischievous which was odd.

It was difficult in some ways to reconcile this man with Lord Voldemort, considering he wasn't quite there yet, certainly didn't look it, and in some ways didn't act like it. He was dangerous, terrifying, and yet she'd heard him laugh, he offered her a cheeky smirk and took her hand back as he stepped forward.

A hand which tingled as he picked it up, even as she tried to shake free.

"Oh stop it" He said with a roll of his dark eyes this time, "We need to stay close in case we need to apparate quickly, and I don't want you running off"

"Why would I run off?" She said disdainfully.

"What if you see your boyfriend?" There was something in his tone she couldn't detect, "And can't resist running into his arms like some awful romantic display"

"I don't have a boyfriend" She said, tone rigid, her crush on Ron had blossomed and died in 6th year, she just wanted to know he was safe, desperately needed to know.

A part of her heart was hollow for losing Harry, she'd had no time to grieve and yet she could feel that, the part of her that had gone cold as Harry had died, now that he was gone, she knew if Ron had joined him, another part of her would

And what would be left?

She didn't want to find out.

"Still, I don't want you to reveal me, so just stay next to me" He said as he walked them forward, up the path, closer to the Burrow, and Hermione's heart clenched.

"Don't tell me what to do" But there was no venom to her tone as they approached the Burrow garden fence, not when her mind was now completely on what she was looking at, the Burrow.

And who might or might not be inside.

She didn't even realise that she was clutching at Tom's hand like a lifeline.

Or, that he didn't make a remark or tease her for it, and instead held steady as they stepped forward.


It took a little while for them to see anything, and she ignored Toms snarky comments about moving the hideous drapes out of the way, but they caught flickers in the first hour they sat, squatting in Molly's wilting tulips.

They saw George, dark circles under his eyes, exhausted by the looks.

They saw Charlie, large burns up either arm, but well … as any of them could be.

Arthur passed third, well too, and Hermione's heart lifted; had all the Weasleys made it?! Was it possible her friends were alive.

That thought stung her though, as of course not, Harry was gone, her best friend, she hoped Ron had made it, and Ginny, but they wouldn't be complete without Harry.

How she wished she could mourn him, but there was no time.

No time for anything but constantly moving forward, as exhausting as it was, she had no choice, did she? She had Tom Riddle next to her for goodness, still holding onto her hand, looking mighty bored, but her responsibility.

No time for mourning.

Another half an hour passed, before Tom got bored.

"Lets go inside" He said as he stood then, pulling Hermione up with him, who offered another glare and only didn't add a rude gesture as it was pointless being disillusioned.

"It will be warded" She said, in the tone she knew needled him, the tone that suggested he was an idiot.

It was remarkable really, she just used the tone that drove her blood to boil and it seemed to work on him too. Sure, he tensed, whereas she'd start screaming, but it still worked.

She didn't' want to analyse how alike they were, not at this moment, not with everything else buzzing around in her head.

Yet alike they were, she would find out further, and soon.

But first…

"As if we can't take down wards" She hated herself for the little flicker of heat she felt at his use of the word 'we', not because it was them together, but because it was him endorsing her abilities to help, to take down the wards with him.

She hated herself for it, but she'd always been a glutton for praise, and praise from someone so powerful? It was embarrassing how she mentally lapped it up.

She was just thankful she had a decentish poker face (and a disillusionment charm) to cover her pinkening cheeks.

"Just us taking them down will trigger them" She said back with a roll of her eyes.

"Which is why whilst you take them down, I'll cast to make it seem as though they remain functioning" He threw back.

"That's not possible" She sneered, regretted it, likely If he said it was possible, it was.

"Don't be a fool" He sneered back, so alike it hurt, "Of course it is"

"I don't know if I can take down the wards" A lie, why was she resisting? Tom was right, they needed to get inside to see who lived, to see where things were, she'd insisted on this after all; why was she resisting?

"You know you can" He said with that drawl that both mocked and annoyed her, "Why don't you want to go inside?"

"I…" She stumbled then.

"Afraid we'll get caught?" He asked, and she knew, even if she couldn't see him, he smirked then, "Afraid you'll be caught with me? You sure you don't have some boyfriend who would be all jealous?"

"I told you I don't have a boyfriend" She fumed as she walked away from the bush, away from the window to the field, readying her wand to cast, they needed to do this, "And even if I did, why would he be jealous of you? I despise you"

"That doesn't rule out him being jealous" He said, and she knew he shrugged, when had she learned his mannerisms? Gods had he learned hers? "He would be if he saw us"

"I'm babysitting you" She said, though it lacked a sneer.

"You keep telling yourself that Hermione" She shivered as her name rolled off his tongue, "Keep telling yourself you don't feel this spark between us"

"All I feel is revulsion" She shot back, and he laughed, she felt a weird thrill up her spine then, at making him laugh, at this back and forth he kept up with her, when no one else could, when everyone else usually gave up.

"Keep telling yourself" He repeated, and she gasped as she felt him nudge her with his shoulder, as he stood next to her, too close.

But she didn't move.

"Get casting"

And she did, only to stop the heat on her cheeks, and the shaking of her hands, both of which had nothing to do with the Weasleys or where they were, but only him.


It was too easy how quickly they got through the Burrows defences.

It took her a while to unpick the wards, but these weren't the type placed by Dumbledore, instead they were milder, there was no secret keeper ward, and nothing offensive, just defensive. Within twenty minutes she had them picked.

Her hands were shaking as she finished, the wards hadn't been too harsh but she had expanded a lot of magic, of course she glanced over at Tom, and his work, the harder work, barely caused him to raise an eyebrow, nor break a sweat, if anything he just looked bored.

She hated how she felt something warm inside, a tickle up the spine at being so interested in his power, his intelligence.

Foolish girl, she thought to herself, and yet fool she was clearly.

"Ready?" Tom asked her, snapping her out of her thoughts, and she nodded. Tom reapplied the disillusionment charms then, again so powerful she couldn't even see them ripple. She reminded herself this was the Tom Riddle that had somehow ended up back here from his final year at Hogwarts, and he was still this powerful, no wonder people had been terrified of the post-school version of him.

Clearing her throat, she took his hand by instinct as he held it out and stepped forward, why was she mooning over him? He was evil!

Not yet, her mind echoed which she ignored.

Everything was becoming so complicated, she was glad she was able to focus as Riddle spelled the door open, pulled her inside behind him and closed it without so much as a whisper.

Her mind jolted back to the present, though she knew her cheeks were pink, she was glad he couldn't see them.

Thankfully, any thoughts of Tom drained from her mind as they stepped inside and forward, into the Burrow, where answers awaited.


And answers she got.

They went room to room, softening charms on their shoes, silent and hidden, it was too easy and Hermione had to stop herself popping up and chastising the Weasleys for letting themselves be intruded so easily.

But then, as they went room to room, their minds were all clearly somewhere else.

First, they saw Molly and Arthur.

Both in the kitchen, the usual brushes and clothes scrubbing pans by themselves absent, which weirdly took away the cheery air to the kitchen. There was no roast cooking, no soup on the stove, nothing but two grieving parents' hands clasped, and that ever-blasted clock, all arrows facing towards 'mortal peril'.

Then in the living room Fred was on the sofa, breathing laboured, clearly in some kind of healing sleep, though it didn't look healing, his face pale, one side of his body bright red and burned, George sat vigilant at his side, only he'd lost an eye to go with the ear and was trembling himself.

Charlie, Percy, and Bill watched on, Fleur clasping her husband's hand, all three of them looked unharmed but their faces spoke a different story.

Upstairs next.

All of the rooms were empty, and Hermione would have panicked, would have, until she heard voices from the attic room, Ron's room, and ran to it quickly, Tom at her heels, though they remained silent, hidden, stealthy.

She wished she could show her face, wished she could comfort Molly with a hug (and get a hug herself), wished she could promise George it would be okay, could offer to try a new healing spell on Fred, could give the Weasley brothers a tight smile and a nod, that it would be okay. Could maybe fill the silent air with inane chatter.

Could do anything but remain silent and hidden.

And yet, she wasn't ready to be revealed yet.

Knew if she did, she would have to explain where she'd been, what she'd doing, why she had to leave.

And worse, who she had to leave for.

The man currently following her into her childhood crushes bedroom, the man who she was technically picking over seeing the family who had become hers as much as she had her real family, the Weasleys who'd embraced her in the Wizarding world, who she was hiding from.

She hoped at the other end of this, war won, evil vanquished, and whatever happened with Tom she could explain all of this, make them understand.

But first they had to win the war, first they had to stop the Death Eaters.

'History is written by the victors'

And she intended for that to be them.

Still, she held her breath as she stepped through Rons thankfully open door, as she hoped, hoped, hoped.

And couldn't believe what she found.


Ron, sat on his bed, looking weathered but okay, thank the gods okay, tired, bruise like circles under his eyes but alive, no obvious injuries, alive.

Ginny, sat on the floor at the foot of her brothers' bed, also exhausted looking, but, okay, alive.

And then …

Harry!

Her Harry! She stumbled, stuttered, and if not for her shock would have revealed them in an instance with a piercing scream, only her utter shock, to see her friend, her best friend, the man she hadn't even had time to mourn, alive and well, and breathing, and well, and alive.

How?

Her mind instantly jumped there, searching for answers, but what did she care how? Or why? Or any of that?! He was here, that was all that mattered!

She remembered rushing to his body, her tears dripping onto his shirt, feeling utterly hopeless, unanchored, Harry, the banner they fought undergone…

And yet he was here, nodding at something Ginny said, looking tired too, a frown marring his features, his scar looking angry and red, but alive, alive, alive.

She took a step forward, it didn't matter now why she'd been away, why she couldn't reveal herself, all the reasons they were creeping around the Weasley house in the first place, it didn't matter, not now Harry was alive, all of the Weasleys had somehow survived, and she was with them, home.

Took a step forward.

Didn't make it any further.

A hand clamped around her waist, grabbing hard at her side, another slid up and pressed to her mouth, any scream or shriek muffled, as she knew, knew as soon as he grabbed her, flush to his body, his chest to her back, pulled her flush, she knew what he was going to do, didn't even have time to kick or flail, managed a whimper that should have been a scream.

And then the tug of apparition, clearly, he'd placed something in the wards, had worried about this, a tug of apparition, and she was spiralling away from her friends, alive and well, Harry, Ron, alive.

Alive and out of sight as Tom Riddle dragged her from the Burrow, from any semblance of home, and away with him.


dont ask me what is going on in hermiones head, ide think she knows

but boooooooom big twist, harry is alive! why, how, when, WHAT? all will be revealed... lets just say the battle had some ripples, and whatever dear tom did to come back will have more too...

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