Dissindere Temporalis

This is a bit of a filler, but I really wanted to delve into Hermione's perspective.

There will also be a fortnight long hiatus everyone, apologies, but I actually get to live out my own personal love story for two weeks.

Wish me luck!

Incipiemus

"Your present circumstances don't determine where you can go they merely determine where you start."

– Nido Qubein

It was strangely soothing to be back at Hogwarts.

This place had once been home to Hermione, it had been the first place she'd first, truly, felt accepted. Her friendship with Harry and Ron was fundamental to that, they were her family, and she loved them deeply. They'd been through so much, but she didn't regret it.

It had forged her.

Without the struggle, without the challenge, who would Hermione Granger have been? Would she have coasted through on top marks, but not really pushed too hard. Would the recreational time have allowed her to study at her leisure, find topics suited to her passions?

Sometimes… sometimes she even wondered, without Harry to protect, and without Ron to guide… would she have wandered darker paths? Seeking knowledge? Always more knowledge?

She didn't know.

It haunted her sometimes but she'd made her choices.

She wouldn't have traded her life, even if she'd gone back to try again. The memories remained.

Because even though Hogwarts had been the first time she'd ever felt like she belonged, it had also been a place that disappointed her to her core.

She'd always been different, even as a small child. She was too smart, too much of a showoff, too loud, too demanding, too full on, too driven, too nerdy…an intelligent little girl who couldn't understand why people didn't like her.

And then there were the unexplained 'incidents', where things happened to the kids who made fun of her.

Like the time Darcy Williams mocked her hair, and the others had laughed so loudly that she'd felt her eyes stinging with hurt. The next day the girl hadn't turned up to school, and when she did she was very muted and sullen. Apparently her hair had become so matted and tangled overnight her parents had almost had to shear it all off.

No one could blame Hermione of course, but there were whispers, the coincidence was too great.

And there was the time when she'd not wanted to swim, having read a book all about sea creatures. She'd known it was a school pool, but still she looked at the deep water and all she could think of was a kraken, or something with teeth ripping her to shreds.

Boney Maclean had tried to push her in, laughing and mocking, and Hermione had felt that rush of fear.

One moment he'd been there.

The next he'd been thrown violently into the water, like something had hurled him.

She couldn't explain it, and none of the kids that saw it could explain it either.

There were countless more, and so she'd earned a reputation as weird. It was easy to write her off because she was smart, she made them feel stupid so she became the subject of ridicule.

So when she received her visit from McGonagall and her Hogwarts letter, the joy and the relief were acute.

Now everything would be okay. She was treated this way because she didn't belong there, she was different, and she was going to school with all the other children who were different, all the children like her.

She studied everything she could get her hands on.

She wanted to be familiar with this strange new world.

She wanted to impress them.

And then…

She was too smart.

No one wanted to be her friend. She kept her head up though, hoped that things would change, and made sure her letters to her parents enthused about how amazing it was.

Not how disappointed she was.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," she remembered Ron's cutting words, and yes she'd maybe been a little patronising but really, he wasn't even trying. He just kept saying the wrong thing and expecting it to, well, 'magically' work.

But it reinforced in her mind the truth.

She was still Hermione Granger. Too much.

Thankfully for her she'd almost died to a troll and that sorted out the whole friendship thing. With Harry's social standing and Ron's too, she'd gone from pariah to friend.

Only, once again, that feeling of belonging didn't last.

'Mudblood', the horrible term spat by Malfoy, the reminder and condemnation of her birth, of her upbringing, her very self, something she couldn't fix. It was the final realisation that no matter how hard she worked, there would always be someone who grudged her, her place.

So she turned from trying to make them accept her, to thrashing them so badly in academics that they would be ashamed.

But it was this fact, this history, this fundamental understanding, that made her feel sympathetic towards Tom Riddle.

Because even when things were horrible before she got her letter, and the children cruel, she'd always had her parents. She'd never doubted their love or their support. Her father had marched down to the school when he'd found out about the pool incident and demanded to know why his daughter had been allowed to be manhandled and hurt. Her mild mannered, very british father, had been flushed with fury and would have done whatever it took to protect her.

Tom Riddle had never had anyone to protect him.

He'd never had anyone on his side.

He'd always been alone.

Oh she knew Dumbledore had his whole theory about love potions, and the children conceived with them being unable to love, but it had always, frankly, pissed her off.

Magic was about balance.

It made no sense to punish the child for the crime of the parents, it was like saying any child born of rape would be cursed in the same fashion. It was appalling, and frankly was rather symptomatic of Dumbledore's views of the world.

He'd been a good man. But he'd always made excuses for things that should never have been excused.

She hated the philosophy of someone being doomed from birth, everyone had choices.

History had shape, but the details? That was what they made it.

So she empathised with the clearly fiercely intelligent Tom Riddle, and she found talking to him to be both fun and engaging. Debating with someone on your level was a high that could not be compared.

Draco was clever in his own right, but their minds worked in different ways. In fact Draco's mind worked very similarly to Ron's. Both of them were strategists, and both worked best with problem solving. Their chess matches were hilarious, and evenly matched, and they were unstoppable when it came to reverse engineering spells and curses.

A part of her idly wondered if it was a product of not only their thought patterns but having grown up saturated in a magical environment.

They had a healthy respect of magical rules and laws, they liked guidelines, it helped them narrow down things to a single point.

They weren't like Harry or like Tom Riddle.

Harry and Tom were instinctual, that's what Hector had called them. People who felt the magic to their core and gave themselves over to it. Book learning was only useful to them in so far as giving them direction, but they would always be creative. Always push the boundaries.

"You need to stop being afraid of breaking the rules," Hector had informed her gruffly, his hazel eyes sad as they roamed her face, "They hold you back."

And it was true.

Whenever she'd been pushed beyond the books that was when she'd done her best magic. Like the galleons for Dumbledore's Army, like her extended bag.

When the rules no longer applied, they could no longer hold you back.

But if you pushed too far, like Tom Riddle had, then yes, terrible things would happen. Sometimes the rules needed to be there to add a note of caution.

But debating books, philosophy and magical theory with Tom Riddle was a rush.

Still it was strange being back at Hogwarts after so long, comforting but also different. Especially since she was in Slytherin now.

When the first years had been escorted into the Common Room, after the Welcome Feast, they'd found the entire House waiting for them there, led by a truly handsome young man with caramel skin and dark hair and eyes.

"Welcome First Years, to Slytherin."

A low rumble flowed around the room, but it was not raucous like Gryffindor would have been. The older boy continued.

"Each of you has already passed your first test at Hogwarts, being Sorted into this House. The other Houses will tell you all about our bad reputation, and how many Dark wizards we've had. And that is true. But both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw have produced their own fair share of them. The only one who hasn't really is Hufflepuff, and many will tell you that's their only really redeeming feature."

Jeers spread around the room, and grins, before everyone settled down again.

"Slytherin House only welcomes the best. Anyone who is Sorted here has the potential for being great, and that greatness can take any size, shape or achievement. Whether you think your fellow Slytherin's are worthy of that statement, or not, is of no matter. Outside of these doors, I don't care what you think of each other. You will present a united front. The other three Houses have a tendency to think the worst of us, therefore any disputes you have with each other need to be sorted out privately."

He eyed them all sternly.

"If you bring shame, dishonour, or embarrassment to this House, you will not like the consequences. If you snitch on one of your fellow Snakes you will find out how hard life in Hogwarts can be alone. Hogwarts isn't just about academics, despite what those swottish Ravenclaws say. Hogwarts is about setting up the rest of your life. The friends you make here, the connections you foster, are just as important as the grades you receive."

"The other Houses will gladly tell you of our lack of redeeming features, and something they always conveniently 'forget' is that Merlin, the greatest wizard of all time, was a Slytherin. He was even potentially taught and mentored by the Founder himself, Salazar Slytherin. So yes we have produced Dark Wizards, but we have also produced THE most famous Light Wizard of History. So the others can go choke."

Snickers filled the room and there was a pause before the young man smirked,

"One last point. Gryffindors." The room filled with playful booing and laughter, and the boy waved his hands good-naturedly, "Gryffindors are bone-headed and self sacrificing self-styled-heroes. But they do share a lot of the same traits as Slytherins," the boos got louder and the boy laughed, "Shut up you lot. We do. But we do it better." a cheer went up, "They like beating us just as much as we like beating them. So if you ever think about losing to a Gryffindor? Don't…"

Another laugh went up, and the young man chuckled, waving them all quiet.

"I am your Head Boy for this year, my name is Bassam Shafiq. If you have questions, or if you have problems, I want you to come to me, especially before they become too large for you to handle."

He smiled and spread his arms, "Welcome to the Game little snakes!"

The common room cheered then and the crowd immediately broke up, splintering off in a fashion that told Hermione that this was a yearly tradition.

Over the last few days the tentative friendships that formed out by the lake had solidified a little more, though there were some fracture lines that showed up every now and then.

Rexton Lestrange had turned his nose up noticeably at Kara, muggleborn and stubbornly unphased by that fact, sneering a little like she reeked. He also was openly dismissive of both the Hufflepuff girl, Tierra, and to a lesser extent Tom too.

Tierra's mother had been from one of the Pure-Blood Families, and had chosen to marry a wizard from a slightly less prestigious Family. It hadn't resulted in her being disowned, she hadn't been a Black, but it had been a small scandal at the time. Tom of course had the name Riddle, a name unknown in Wizarding circles. And while Rexton was presumably reserving judgement right now, possibly because Tom had managed to be sorted into Slytherin, eventually his lack of 'noble' blood would be a problem.

Abraxas Malfoy had been haughty, and just as dismissive of Kara as Rexton. But he was more openly curious about Tom. And he was unabashedly fascinated by Draco.

Which was quietly hilarious, as Draco was very much not interested in bonding with Abraxas over their powerful family ties. His grandfather's, and his father's, choices had resulted in the pain that had been his years as a Death Eater, and his utter disinterest in said grandfather only served to make Abraxas more and more curious.

The biggest surprise had been Druella.

The female half of the Rosier twins was polished and exceptionally pretty, with her platinum blonde hair, catlike yellow-green eyes, and slender waif-like figure. Hermione had honestly been a little self conscious at first, both thankful for Dorea's lessons and unsure of what to expect from the almost doll-like, pureblood perfection of the Rosier girl, but Druella had been kind.

There were eight girls in Slytherin, to the boys nine, and they were split into two dorms.

Druella and Hermione were in one with Laura Sallow and Dahlia Warrington. The other four girls included other familiar names like Mildred Crabbe, Sophia Bletchley, Naomi Burke and Beverly Bulstrode.

After the afternoon by the lake, Druella had linked her arm firmly with Hermione's smiling at her warmly.

"It's so nice to meet people outside of my usual circle." she murmured quietly, "My parents selected a small group of girls that I was permitted to socialise with… so it's lovely to encounter fresh faces."

Hermione felt her nose wrinkle at the thought of that life, being controlled, deliberately moulded to be exactly what someone wanted.

For the first time she realised how fortunate she was, to have been brought up by parents who encouraged her to consider all points of view, who had never tried to control or limit her. Nor had they left her with only one perspective, unknowing, blind…

"We grew up together," Hermione agreed, "Harry and Ron are like brothers to me, Malfoy… Draco… he's pricklier but still family."

Druella made a low noise, "It's unusual to have circles across so many Houses." she chuckled softly, "The only girls out of my permitted circle that aren't in Slytherin are in Ravenclaw. Certainly no Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs."

Hermione side-eyed her, "And yet you clearly know the Hufflepuff girl."

Druella's smile turned a little sly, "I did say out of my 'permitted circle' Granger."

Hermione laughed.

The other girls seemed alright for the most part.

Two of them were from Druella's 'permitted circle', Naomi Burke who was alright, but a little dull in Hermione's books and Beverly Bulstrode was thicker than the most ancient oak, and blinked in confusion at the most simple topics.

Mildred Crabbe was sullen and sulky and as for Sophia Bletchley? The girl acted like royalty, like she was far more sophisticated and refined than anyone else. She was pretty, that was certain, with a little upturned button nose, bright brown eyes and a little round face.

But she also very obviously didn't like Druella, who seemed not to care one whit.

Draco was surprisingly the one to clarify why, on the Saturday before term began. Harry and Ron were with Tom, teaching him magical games, and Hermione and Draco had taken refuge in the sanctuary of the Library.

"Politics," Draco informed her, and he somehow managed not to sound condescending at all, "Look, in that world, often breeding was the best thing to recommend you. Power, connections, good bloodlines. You could have the purest blood, but without power to back it? You might secure an alright marriage, but the hottest competition is for the witches and wizards with power, magical and social, with connections, with a bloodline to match."

"So why does Sophia dislike Druella?" Hermione asked, considering his words carefully, "Classes haven't even started…"

Draco sighed at her, but it was fond, "Druella is a Rosier, which makes her on that damn Sacred Twenty-Eight list. The family is powerful, always has been. And most importantly? Druella is beautiful."

Hermione frowned at him, and Draco smirked, "She's my grandmother, I can say that." That made her choke in shock and Draco's smirk broadened, "You had no idea, did you?"

"Are you serious?" Hermione hissed, and Draco snickered, "Shut up Draco, are you serious?"

"Absolutely," Draco chuckled, "Can't you see the resemblance to my mother?"

"Your-" her voice had raised and suddenly a frowning face of the school librarian loomed around a shelf and Hermione hurriedly lowered her voice, "You're telling me, Druella Rosier is your Mother's mother?"

Draco nodded, "Mother of Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. Interesting isn't it? That she's the one you gravitated to?"

Hermione punched his arm and Draco hissed, "Not funny!"

"Is a bit," Draco rubbed his arm, "Merlin you really are a worry. Don't freak out about it, honestly my Grandmother was the only reason that my Mother and aunt Andromeda turned out even remotely reasonably."

There was a note of wistfulness in his voice and Hermione cocked her head, "You knew her?"

"Oh yes, she was a regular visitor at Malfoy Manor," Draco sighed, "She was the one to encourage my reading. She told me all sorts of stories… very proper of course, but I never doubted that she loved me. When she died…my mother didn't leave her bed for over a week in grief."

Hermione frowned down at the table before suddenly pale fingers appeared in her vision and snapped in front of her.

"Oi, Granger. Listen to me." she looked up again and met Draco's serious gaze, "We can't do this if we treat them like ghosts, like people who've already made the terrible decisions that brought us here. Pureblood society… it's hard, and it's unyielding. Druella Rosier had no choice in marrying into the Black Family. Maybe this time around she will…"

Hermione blinked at him and Draco rolled his eyes, "Back to your original question. Being attractive isn't really… It's not common. Among the Pure-blood Families. In-breeding often results in…well… it's not pretty. Sophia Bletchley is from a pure-blood Family, though not one as vaunted as the Rosiers. She is also very pretty, and likely thought she could hold that over everyone's head."

"You think…she's jealous?"

"Of course." Draco's smile was crooked, "Look at them. Bletchley is very, very pretty and she plays off of it… Druella however, is natural. She's elegant but it's almost a part of her, not an act. Next to Druella, Bletchley is a cheap knock-off. And she knows it."

Hermione shook her head at him, "We're eleven or twelve years old, that's far too young for this sort of thing…"

Draco snickered at her fondly, "Merlin, you have no idea. You wait, in the next few years as grades start to come out? That's when the marriages will be decided. Almost every one of those kids will be engaged before they are old enough to really know what romance is. Bletchley's just trying to get a headstart, to make someone like Abraxas Malfoy or Adrian Flint turn his head her way…"

Hermione's horrified expression made Draco snicker some more before she rummaged in her beaded bag, pulling out a notebook and quill.

"You're going to tell me about this.. Game." Hermione informed him, and the blond smiled at her proudly.

Their first class on Monday morning was Double Potions with the Gryffindors.

Hermione quietly found it to be poetic justice, smirking across the hall at Ron, who made a rude hand gesture back that instantly got him in trouble with a prefect.

Scanning the rest of the timetable she was surprised to see that Defense and Herbology would be with Hufflepuff, Charms and Astronomy with the Ravenclaws and of course Potions and Transfiguration with the Gryffindors.

So once breakfast was done they, and Tom, met up with Ron in the entranceway, and headed down to the Dungeon while Malfoy haughtily climbed the stairs for Double Transfiguration.

As they walked, Hermione realised they had a small trail of people following them.

Abraxas strode up to walk alongside Harry, who was walking with Ron. On the other side, Ross appeared, immediately falling into step with the redhead as Kara, the quiet muggleborn girl shadowed them, ignoring the glare from Lestrange as he walked behind Abraxas.

Druella linked arms with her, giving her a warm, private little smile as she squeezed her arm, and their other roommates, dark haired Laura, and painfully shy Dahlia, fell into step beside and behind Tom as he walked alongside Hermione.

She saw him glance at the girls in surprise before the expression shuttered behind calm indifference, but she was sure that she saw him relax a little as Laura walked comfortably along, content with silence.

As they approached the corridor that led into the dungeon classroom she saw the rest of the year was waiting for them.

The boy she now knew to be Moody, glared so nastily at Ron that her hand slid automatically into her pocket, a shielding charm ready on her lips.

Others stood with him, while others stood further down the corridor, including a red-headed Weasley boy she'd noticed during the Sorting. Finn she was pretty sure the name was.

On the other side the other Slytherins watched their approach with interest, Bletchley looking positively green with envy at the attention they were getting, while the other boys and girls just considered them.

"Traitor." Moody hissed at Ron as they passed, and Ross made a movement like to turn and say something, but Ron grabbed his arm.

"Don't."

"But-"

"Don't."

"What's the matter, Weasley?" Moody jeered, and now all the Slytherins were watching intently, "Don't like what I have to say? Traitor?"

Ron sighed and stopped, all of them coming to a halt around him, before he turned to face Moody, calm and in control.

Once he would have been raging, and he did still have his temper. The difference now, was he unleashed it when it was important.

This clearly wasn't, because Ron just folded his arms, "I heard a fart, and we all know where those come from."

The hall filled with snickering, and Moody went so red that Hermione was worried he'd blow a blood vessel. Who knows what would have happened next, if the door hadn't opened to a far younger Professor Slughorn beaming at them, completely unaware of the tension.

"Come in! Come in!"

They all did, trooping in as Moody and his lot headed as far from the Slytherins as they could. Ron sat beside Harry and Hermione found herself being firmly steered to a seat beside Tom.

He glanced up at him, seeing the tightness in his mouth, and realised with a shock that he was nervous.

And apparently he wanted her as a partner because he was nervous.

Warmth tickled her stomach and she unpacked her kit, impressed when she saw his own, a custom one, rather than a pre-made one.

Tom was eyeing her own custom one too and there was a small smile on his lips.

"Well!" Slughorn beamed at them, "We'll do roll call and then, shall we begin?"

Reviews

nstlov - Aquí está el próximo capítulo mi amiga!

Shiara - I have found in my life that confidence attracts people. We're all so unsure, so the kind of assurity that the quartet have would absolutely draw people in. And yes, Ron is an excellent friend for Tom to have. That friendship will be important!

Sartel - Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed.

Kirmizisin - I am not going the Harry and Tom route no, in fact the whole Dimitera conversation was supposed to illustrate that soulmate connection isn't commonly romantic!

amk41196 - Ron is under appreciated, but I am actually growing in appreciation while writing this. He adds something very important to this story. I hate pre-destined evil!

Allacaya - I'm glad you're liking! Tom is absolutely something to be wary of, right now he's just quite content and so the snake is napping, but there's definitely going to be a time where it awakens. And yes, the horcrux doesn't return because he's not being returned to exactly how he was at 11, more like his body is aged back that far. So yeah if he had a scar he got later it would have vanished, but the lightning bolt remains, as he gained it prior to being 11. Its like the body having memory of when everything happened...like when we study what happened to a body through forensic archaeology.

Doreene - I'm so glad you liked Ron, he's actually quite fun, and yes has his own strengths.

Guest - Hermione's curiousity about Tierra is because she's read/heard/studied about her somewhere in history...but it wasn't such a big event that the name stayed in her memory.