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Masters of Manipulation	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 28506 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Masters of manipulation

This chapter is dedicated to Blindfaithoperadiva for reasons explained in the author's note at the end of this chapter.

Chapter eleven

A silver dash, a crash, and Hermione felt the same sickening feeling she had not so long ago, upon arriving at Hogwarts in Tom Riddle's day and age. She pushed herself up from the wet pavement she was currently lying on, and tried to take in her surroundings. It was definitely somewhere outside. The harsh wind told her that much, because it was cold, wet, windy and dark. Crouched on all fours, she started to throw up like she had done before after travelling through time with that damn book.

'Where is it anyway? And where is Riddle?' she thought.

Hermione looked up, in between puking, and saw a very pleasurable sight. Tom Riddle was upright, but barely. He was hanging in the dark hedge right next to her, holding on to the branches for support, and he was making similar sounds as Hermione was a few seconds ago. Hermione had never been one to glee at another person's discomfort, but she felt it was always a good time to learn new ways. She took tremendous pleasure out of the fact that Riddle wasn't feeling any better either, when she saw him, suddenly, get hit by a stunning spell and crash to the floor. She pulled out her wand, but the world was moving again. Still, she was able to point the wand behind her and without thinking, without seeing at who she was aiming, Hermione yelled: 'Stupefy'.

She heard a gong-like sound, then something hit her dead on and she passed out. When she came to, she heard a familiar voice saying: 'Drink, it will help.'

'Rid..'

A bottle was placed against her lips and the fluid had already been poured into her mouth before she could finish a word. She tasted the familiar bitterness of the Invigoration Draught and swallowed it before she was planning to scold Tom Riddle from here to eternity for landing her "Godric knows where". Her blurry vision returned to normal and she stared right into a pair of gleaming red eyes, whose pupils were vertical. His head was covered by the black hood he was wearing, but his face was so pale that he seemed to emit a pearly glow and she could make out his features: snake-like, with slits for nostrils and a very thin-lipped mouth. Dead frightened, Hermione stared into the face of Lord Voldemort; a much older version than the one she had been travelling with.

'This is not a good thing,' she thought.

And she would have tried to move away from him, were it not for her position on the wet ground, sitting, leaning her back against a very solid tree, which did not approve of any movement backwards. Besides, Voldemort was holding onto her arm, and he was way too close for comfort. Squatting right in front of her, he tossed the empty bottle that had contained the Invigoration Draught back into her beaded bag. His eyes darted away from the bag and back towards her.

'Don't be afraid. I'm not here to hurt you.' His high, cold voice told her.

Now, she noticed it had gone up an octave or two since his teen years. Hermione said nothing. She was too scared to do anything, too scared to move, speak, breathe, draw her wand; anything.

'I don't recommend you remain on the cold grounds either.' Voldemort's head swivelled sideways, examining the grounds around them. 'You might catch pneumonia.'

And he went on to stand up for himself, pulling up Hermione by her arm along with him. Her eyes fell on a dark figure lying unconscious on the ground a few feet away from her; the figure of Tom Riddle. Hermione frowned.

'This cannot be. Time should act now to correct the paradox,' she thought.

'The Book protects the bearer against temporal paradoxes,' said Voldemort to her unasked question.

'But why would he stun himself, and then, let him lay there?' Hermione thought, startled, still watching the unconscious version of Riddle.

Voldemort followed her surprised gaze. 'Oh, don't worry, he'll be fine,' Voldemort said, amused. 'I should know. I'm him after all.

Hermione was taken aback by Voldemort's statement. She wasn't worried about bloody Tom Riddle. He could drop dead for all she cared. Come to think of it… that sounded like a wonderful idea to her. So where on earth did he get the idea she gave a damn? Her fear instantly replaced by feelings of anger, she glared in fury at the Dark Lord. Only to see the corners of his mouth twitching slightly upwards and his scarlet eyes sparkling with something she could not quite place. Her hand moved towards her pocket, but she halted the motion when he merely shook his head.

'I don't want to hex you, Hermione, but I will…'

He let go of her upper arm, and moved a step backwards, eyeing her intently. For a few seconds, they were staring at each other, when he pulled something out of his robe and stretched his hand out towards her. Hermione gave the jar in his hand a curious glance.

'Take it,' he said, 'you'll be in need of it someday.'

Their fingertips touched when she accepted the jar from him, and she noted that he held onto it just a little bit longer than necessary, before letting go. Hermione looked at the jar. It had no label, no writings were on it. What could be in there? And when would she be needing this, whatever it was?

'You'll know,' he added, upon seeing her confused face.

Hermione looked at him questioningly, but her expression was quickly shifting to shock and fear, and she jumped back into the tree when he swiftly moved towards her. His robes bellowing in the wind, he halted upon seeing her angst. A sigh escaped his lips. Hermione looked up at him, his face only inches away from hers, and she was anxiously staring into those crimson, unreadable eyes of his. She felt how his hand caressed her hair for a moment and he cupped her face, before speaking to her in a soft voice.

'I enabled the book to transport you, and him over there, back from where you came. All you have to do is hold onto it and think: I have to get back.' He let go of her face and nodded to himself with his head.'And tell him to stop wasting his precious time meddling in events he has no control over.' Lord Voldemort stepped away from her. 'Do not interfere, Hermione,' he added, warningly.

And he turned and strode away. She heard a soft creaking noise come from the gate beside her when he abandoned the street she was in. She closed her eyes, and took a large breath.

'What had just happened?' she thought, and she picked up her beaded bag, while glancing back and forth at the dark street she was in. 'Where and when am I?'

And then… she knew. She recognised the cottage across the street and she heard the screams coming from behind her.

'Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!'

Hermione stood there in horror. This could not be. A high-pitched laugh, two words spoken, and green light flooded the street. And she did not know why she did it. She knew not to interfere; she knew bad things happen to people who mess around with time, but she turned and ran through the gate, towards the house, towards Harry. Upon entering the cramped hallway, she saw the body of James Potter lying dead on the floor. He resembled her Harry so much that it felt like a bad omen. And she heard the sounds coming from upstairs.

'Stand aside – stand aside, girl'

She started to run to the staircase. Green light flashed around her and she knew Lily Potter had died, but she ran up the stairs nevertheless. A strange feeling of urgency was pushing her forward. She arrived at the landing, confused. Everything was lighted and there were four doors standing ajar. Which way? And she heard the cries of a baby. To her left!

'Avada Kedavra!'

The green light blinded her as she stood in the doorway and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. For a second she thought she saw a brush of black vapour accompanying the Killing Curse on its path. But she blinked and the next thing she saw was the green jet hit baby Harry and bounce back, hitting Voldemort and the wall behind him, blasting it out of the way. She dove to the side to avoid the impact herself, and then it was silent.

Baby Harry started screaming, and she looked up and saw black vapour emerging from the rubble, gliding together.

'My bag! I need the potion! Now!' Hermione thought panicking, while tossing a scorched teddy-bear with one leg to the side.

She found the bag. Hermione looked up and saw Voldemort's soul speeding towards Harry.

'Oh no, you don't,' she said through gritted teeth.

And in one rush of utter madness, she threw the small yellow bottle towards the cot. It broke and a blinding white light surrounded baby Harry, making it impossible for Voldemort to take possession of the boy's body. It wasn't until she saw the black vapour moving backward, terrified of the light, that she realised she had made one tiny miscalculation.

'I should have made enough to fill two flasks!' she thought horrified.

She turned around and started climbing over the rubble to reach the hallway, but she did not make it. Hermione looked over her shoulder. She saw the vapour had turned and Voldemort was now moving towards her with incredible speed. Hermione slid down onto the floor, remembering how it had felt the first time this had happened, and she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable impact … that did not come. Relieved, she opened her eyes and almost closed them right back again in fear, when she noticed the vapour was hovering right in front of her, around her, and then, it moved off, through the damaged house, away into the night sky.

Hermione sat there for awhile, panting, trying to calm herself, to stop her heart from racing like crazy, when she heard crying. It was Harry. She stood up and walked over the debris towards the still intact cot. He had a huge gaping wound on his forehead that was bleeding severely. Hermione healed it magically, but she knew a scar shaped like a lighting bolt would remain. She picked up baby Harry and started rocking him.

'Shh, it's going to be alright. You're going to be alright,' she whispered in a comforting, soft tone to him.

And she remembered a lullaby her mother had always sung to her when she was little. So she softly sang it to Harry, walking across the damaged room, gently rocking him, making sure he would not see his dead mother underneath the rubble to her right. Hermione noticed how much Lily resembled Ginny, or was it the other way around? They had the same long red hair and pretty features. And the thought of Ginny lying dead on the floor squashed by debris was too much for Hermione to cope, so she averted her eyes from the scene.

'Let's get out of here, Harry. Don't you agree?' she said.

Hermione looked at the baby and saw that his tiny hands were reaching into the air, trying to grab a lock of her hair that was dangling in front of him. She smiled at him and Harry crowed.

'See, I knew you'd agree with me,' Hermione said nicely, and she pulled out her wand and Apparated back to the street.

Hermione, then, pushed the tip of her wand to her head and sent her Patronus to Albus Dumbledore to inform him of the attack on the Potters. She saw her otter speed off into the street and pass an unconscious body.

'Damn, I forgot all about him.' She told the baby in a cheery voice. 'Let's kick his arse. Do you want to do the honours or should I?'

'Accio Eternity in Time, Accio Tom Riddle's wand,' Hermione said, and book plus wand flew into her outstretched hand. She stuffed it in her beaded bag, before walking over to Tom Riddle. She pointed her wand at the still motionless body and said to Harry: 'Are you sure? He is nice and quiet this way, and no doubt, he will start being himself again once we wake him.'

The baby made a few vague noises, and Hermione raised her shoulders at Harry.

'Alright, as long as you remember that I told you so.' She hopped him over to her other arm, and cast the spell. 'Rennervate.'

Hermione turned around and walked to and fro on the street. She was completely ignoring Tom Riddle, who was slowly crawling back to his feet, dazed. And she kept chattering with baby Harry.

'I've contacted Professor Dumbledore and he will send Rubeus Hagrid over here. You'll like him, he's our friend,' she said. The latter words were spoken somewhat painfully, because baby Harry had finally got a hold of a tuft of her hair and was pulling on it.

'What's that?' an annoyed voice asked, looking at Hermione and baby Harry in disgust.

'That, Tom Riddle, is what we humans call a baby,' Hermione said dryly, rocking Harry.

He rolled his eyes. 'I know what it is, but what are you doing with it?'

'Holding him,' Hermione responded cheerfully to baby Harry, while ignoring Tom, knowing she was aggravating the crap out of him.

Tom Riddle turned around and saw the Potter House in ruins. His face frowned, his eyes darkened, he turned towards Hermione and Harry, and his hand flashed into his pocket, but there was nothing there.

'I don't think so, Riddle. You've done enough damage tonight,' Hermione said sharply.

'Where is my wand? Give me back my wand, Evans.'

Now, Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Sure, no problem…,' she said sarcastically.

Tom took a step in her direction, and she raised her wand at him.

'I would not do that if I were you, Riddle. I'm the one holding a wand here. And that pavement is awfully wet and cold. Now, we will wait, until Hagrid gets here and takes Harry with him, and then, we can go home. Is that clear, Riddle?' Hermione asked menacingly.

He merely glared at her in fury.

'Good, I'm glad we're in agreement here,' she said mockingly.

'Ouch, Harry, let go, will you sweetie?' Hermione said, in an upbeat high tone. She tried unravelling his little fingers from her hair, but he only grabbed a new tuft of it.

'Damn,' she swore, and pushed Harry into Riddle's arms. 'Hold on, will you. Drop him and I'll hurt you,' she added threateningly.

It was an utterly ridiculous sight. One of those, you wished you had taken a picture from for posterity. Tom Riddle was holding on to baby Harry underneath the baby's armpits, while he stretched out his arms as far away from himself as humanly possible, so the baby would not touch his body. And all of this was accompanied by a disgusted look on his face.

'Will you get a move on with whatever it is your doing, Evans?' Tom said annoyed, because baby Harry was now spraying spit at him.

Baby Harry started wining. Hermione looked up. She was ruffling through her bag.

'You're scaring him,' she said, eyeing Tom warningly upon seeing the irritated expression on his face. 'Try rocking him a bit. Oh, and he likes it when someone sings him a lullaby,' she added deviously, returning her attention back to her beaded bag, hiding her amusement at his flustered face.

'He probably is glad he's wearing gloves that way he won't, actually, have to touch the baby for real,' Hermione thought, rolling her eyes at that thought.

She finally pulled the hairpin out of her bag and placed it in her hair. Riddle quickly pushed baby Harry back into her arms…

'Crack.'

Dumbledore was holding onto Hagrid, and he had Apparated them both into the street before the Potter's House. His light blue eyes flew sharply over the scene before him. Hermione, holding on to baby Harry, who was happy to be back in a couple of comforting arms and was now pulling on her Slytherin scarf; Tom, who was standing next to her, looking extremely aggravated; and the house that had clearly seen a battle.

'James and Lily?' Dumbledore asked shortly.

Hermione shook her head. Dumbledore eyed Tom for a moment, and gestured Hermione to follow him, but Hagrid finally seemed to realise Hermione's shaking meant that Lily and James were dead, and he let out a shout of despair and flung himself at Tom.

'Hagrid! No!' Hermione yelled.

She saw the telltale red flash fly through Tom's alarmed eyes when Hagrid wrapped his hands around his neck, and they both plummeted to the ground. Hagrid landed right on top of the, now most likely completely crushed, Slytherin, who was pretty much defenceless without his wand. But Dumbledore had already drawn his wand, and with one simple flick of it, Hagrid was pulled off the now very dishevelled looking Head Boy and landed with a crash a few feet away.

'Hagrid!' Hermione shouted, shocked that Dumbledore would just toss him around like that, and she ran towards him.

'Are you all right?' she asked concerned, while rocking baby Harry, who was now testing whether her scarf would taste nice. Apparently, it did.

Rubeus Hagrid smiled at her weakly and scrambled back onto his feet. Hermione noticed Dumbledore was checking whether Riddle was still in one piece, which was not appreciated at all by the party being checked upon. Hermione sighed in annoyance at that visual, and she said softly to Hagrid, while turning her attention to Harry: 'He is so little. It just isn't fair.'

'We'll look after Harry, Hermione. He'll be all right,' Hagrid said, giving her a concerned look. 'You, on the other hand, Hermione, you need to avoid...'

'Hagrid!' Dumbledore's strict voice interrupted Hagrid, and he was now staring straight at him. There was no twinkle in his blue eyes anymore.

'Rubeus. Why don't you take Harry from Hermione, and go wait with him on the lawn for a moment. I'll be right there.'

And Dumbledore kept looking at them, until Hagrid had taken Harry, very gently, from Hermione's arms and had left. Hermione had kissed baby Harry on his forehead and waved him goodbye, donating her scarf which he would not let go off.

'Tom, I think it would be best if you waited on that bench for a moment.' Dumbledore gestured to the seating across the street. 'You and Hermione can go back from where you came after I've heard from her exactly what has transpired here.'

Tom did not respond verbally to Dumbledore's suggestion, but merely turned and marched away, with firm strides, obviously furious. Dumbledore looked at his retreating back for a moment, and then, he looked at Hermione, concerned.

'Tell me everything,' he said.

And she did. Dumbledore listened carefully without interrupting her, but she did notice his eyes changed in expression when she told him certain parts of her story. Only she wasn't sure whether it was for her benefit or not. She kept wondering what it could have been that Hagrid had wanted to tell her, and on top of that Harry's words about Dumbledore started going through her mind again.

'This isn't love, the mess he left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.'

'Look at what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again!'

Harry. She had not been able to stop Voldemort from killing his parents, and now he would be send away to the Dursley's, who would abuse him. The thought saddened her sincerely.

'You did everything right, Miss Granger. Remember that,' Dumbledore said.

'But his parents are dead, and if I would have realised sooner, I might have…'

'This is how it was supposed to be, Miss Granger. You and I both know that, and from what you've told me, it seems Voldemort has figured that out as well. Otherwise he would not have come here tonight.'

'What,' Hermione said, stunned. 'He knew this would be his downfall, and still went, but…'

'You have a job to do, I believe, Miss Granger. Perhaps one given to you by the very Founders of Hogwarts?' Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling brightly at her. He held up his hand before she could respond, stopping her from speaking up.

'I'd like to take a look at that jar though, before you go,' he said, and held out his hand.

Hermione looked at him. That man always knew everything. 'But he is not sharing,' a little nagging voice told her inside her head. How could he have known about her mission? It was weird.

She handed Dumbledore the jar, despite everything else, she was still somewhat relieved he would check it out for her. Dumbledore opened it, and eyed the ointment for a moment. Hermione leaned forward to see for herself. It was a dark-brown ointment and it smelled incredibly bad. Hermione was shocked to see Dumbledore was practically sticking his nose in there. Surely, that smell could be detected from miles away? Dumbledore finally nodded, closed the jar and gave it back to her. Hermione eyed him questioningly.

'You'll be in need of that in the future, or rather the past,' he added puzzling.

Hermione was now getting a bit aggravated. That was the same bloody thing Voldemort had said. Surely, Professor Dumbledore could be a bit more forthcoming to her.

'Professor, what…'

'I'm sorry Hermione. You know the rules. Now, you and Tom better get going before the people from the ministry get here and start asking questions.'

And on that note, he turned and walked away towards Hagrid. Hermione watched him for a moment, slightly irritated, remembering Harry's angry words.

'And don't expect me to explain everything to you. Never the whole truth. Never.'

Hermione sighed and crossed the street on her way back to a very pissed off Tom Marvolo Riddle, who had, to her surprise, indeed made himself somewhat comfortable on the bench. But even though his posture appeared to be calm and relaxed for the casual observer, his eyes told a different story. They said it all. He was on the verge of exploding. Hermione had been around him long enough to detect these minor cracks in his façade. She sat down next to him, noticing he had taken off his black leather gloves. Apparently, they had torn apart in the struggle with Hagrid, and without a wand he had not been able to mend them.

'We better get going; the Aurors are going to be here soon,' she said quietly, hoping not to be the trigger of the obvious rage that was building up inside of him.

'Did the old blabbering coot tell you we should go?' Tom said menacingly.

Now, she was certain he was furious. That tone said it all. Hermione ignored the remarks about Albus Dumbledore, since she wasn't too keen on the man herself right now, and she gave him quite a shocking answer.

'You did, actually, or rather your older version did,' Hermione said. 'You also told me to say that you should stop wasting your time meddling in events you have no control over.'

A crack came from across the street and Hermione noticed Dumbledore had vanished. Hagrid was eyeing them, and he took a hold of baby Harry's hand and started waving with it towards Hermione. Tom growled at the sight of it, but Hermione waved back, smilingly.

And then, it happened. Hermione was waving at Harry when, suddenly, a deafening roar approached them, a large motorbike landed in the street before the Potter House, and Hermione hardly recognised the driver that was on it. He was so young, so innocent, so untainted, so very much alive…

Sirius Black jumped from his bike, letting it drop on the sidewalk with a crash and he ran towards the house screaming James's name. And Hagrid shouted out after him, but Sirius did not even hear. He kept running, and Hagrid followed him, into the house…

And Hermione closed her eyes when she heard the desperate, chilling scream indicating Sirius had found his best friend's body. Hermione never even noticed she had somehow made it to a standing position. She was almost ready to run in after Harry's godfather, when Tom Riddle flung his arms around her and wrestled her wand from her hand.

'Time to finish off Potter, once and for all,' he said with a vicious undertone in his voice, holding her tightly, pressing her own wand in her throat.

'I have to get back,' Hermione said softly.

And Riddle let out a furious scream when the silvery dash flew around them, and Salazar Slytherin's lifelong achievement transported them back to 1944.

A/N: Special thanks to Blindfaithoperadiva for making me aware I added an assumption of mine into this chapter about how Horcrux are created without clarifying it to the readers. And after all, JKR has never specified how these damn things are made. I was under the impression that the Killing Curse and the Horcrux Creation went along simultaneously. So the part of Voldemort that Hermione stops in this chapter is the part that Canon-wise was without a body for 13 years. So I added the bits of vapour and the wound on the forehead to clear up any misgivings about whether or not Harry still is a Horcrux. Yes, people, he still is. Thanks Cristina. Very deep bow.

xxx
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Masters of Manipulation