Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Right Place, Wrong Time?	By : Shan84 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 7811 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series nor any of the characters from the books/movies. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Author Note: Thank you all for reading :)

"How are you Hermione?" Dumbledore asked as they sat down at a secluded table in the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione exhaled heavily, where would she begin exactly?

"It looks as though you feel as though the weight of the world is sitting on your shoulders," he observed with a small, comforting smile on his face.

A short, incredulous laugh escaped her, "Well in some ways, yes," she looked up at him from her cup of tea, and when he didn't respond with anything she took another deep breath and continued, "I just thought that by now I would've have found a way home. It's so hard to keep lying to people about who I am and why I'm here."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. "Difficult because you feel guilty or difficult because your pretences were, to you, more of a temporary nature?"

"I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a bit of both," she responded. "Because I didn't plan on being here for so long, I've told people things that I am now regretting – or have behaved in a way which, if I knew the length of time I would be here for, wouldn't have." She was, of course, thinking of the way she had spoken to and behaved around Tom. If she had known how long she would be here, she would have behaved much more differently.

Dumbledore nodded, understanding passing through his blue eyes. "And that, of course, is why we always say that hindsight is a wonderful thing," he replied. "But this isn't just about your friendship with Mr Skeeter is it?"

Hermione looked up at her old Headmaster in surprise. But before she could ask, Dumbledore continued.

"Whilst Mr Skeeter should be given more appreciation from others for both his magical and observational skills, I doubt he is the one you're thinking about, is he? I understand that you have been spending a fair amount of time with Tom Riddle?"

Hermione couldn't stop herself from flinching, causing her teacup to make an uncomfortable scraping noise against its saucer. "I…" she began, but didn't really know what to say; finally she just nodded her head. "Yes, well he's letting me read a book he was allowed to access. Er-"

"Did you know that Tom was one of most intelligent students to attend Hogwarts?" Dumbledore suddenly asked, his neutral expression not changing.

"I haven't told him anything," Hermione replied emphatically. "And yes, I know he's intelligent."

Dumbledore gave a small chuckle. "You sound like you feel guilty about spending time with him?"

Hermione shrugged, "I shouldn't really be getting close to anyone here, should I?"

"That remains to be seen. Your situation is still a mystery, after all," he mused. "Do you specifically regret something you have said to Tom?"

Hermione took a deep breath. She hadn't told the Professor anything about future events yet, but of course she knew that he was one of the only people who ever suspected Tom Riddle of anything. "Yes," She finally answered.

"I imagine that with the way Tom is, you had not even realised you'd said something until you thought it was much too late," he replied.

"I suppose-" Hermione began to answer, before Dumbledore held his hands up for her to stop.

"Forgive my curiosity, and do not feel like you need to reveal anything more to me," he said quickly. "Time is a funny thing and we have no idea what you being here will do to the future…"

"So you aren't able to give much more information to me?" Hermione asked.

"Not at this point in time… did you read my notes?"

"Yes, there was a lot on the linkages between the muggle and wizarding world. Why is that? And do you really think it has something to do with how I got here?" Hermione asked.

"I believe that not enough attention is placed on the historical influences and linkages between the muggle and wizarding world. Whilst the International Statute of Secrecy is incredibly important, since its introduction, wizards – possibly through their own arrogance - have placed so little importance on the muggle world and any historical linkages from it. Many ancient and traditional linkages have been forgotten or ignored because we place so little value on such things now."

Hermione was suddenly interested. "So what does this have to do with my situation?"

"It's still too early to tell, but I would like you to meet a close friend of mine. He might be able to assist you in your current situation. Are you free to come to Hogwarts this weekend?"

"H-hogwarts?" Hermione stuttered.

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes."

"Oh!" Hermione breathed in excitement, "Sure, I'd love to!"

"Finished!" Hermione announced – perhaps a bit too cheerfully - as she closed Wenlock's book and looked up at Tom.

Even though it was midweek, she was still on a high after her earlier meeting with Professor Dumbledore. She couldn't even hide her good mood around Tom. This weekend she would be going to Hogwarts, meeting Dumbledore's contact and maybe learning more about her situation. Just the thought of possibly going back to her own time kept an almost permanent smile on her face. Whilst she had regrets about certain things she had said and done, if she managed to find a way home very soon, she held hope that time wouldn't be altered too much. If anything, it made her feel much less stressed about all the things she had said and done.

Tom observed her from the book he was reading. Whilst his face was expressionless, she could tell he was curious about the rather exuberant mood she had been showcasing in the last couple of days. She was actually surprised he hadn't commented on it yet.

"So you are. What did you think?" he asked as he reached across and took the book.

"It was certainly a privilege to read," Hermione replied. "Er, thanks for letting me read it – I very much appreciate it." she said, before flushing and realising that was the first time she didn't find any difficulty in thanking him.

"It wasn't a problem," he replied easily. "I take it you'll be now solely concentrating on your own project?"

Hermione looked down and a small smirk graced her lips, she just knew he wouldn't have been able to help himself.

"You know, the other night, we never got to finish our conversation," he continued.

Hermione looked at him inquisitively as she stood up, getting ready to get back to work. "Oh? And what conversation was that?"

Tom stood as well, placing the book in his pocket and stepped around the table. "You know, what your project is actually about,"

Her eyebrows shot up as she appraised him. "Well, I already did tell you a few times, it's about Ancient Runes,"

"Yes, I know that… but we both know that is rather ambiguous answer," He replied, throwing her a rather innocent look. "What are you hiding, Hermione?" he asked, his voice was suddenly nothing but a murmur – as though it was just something to be shared between the two of them.

She felt her stomach tighten. The way her name had fallen from his lips should have been illegal coming from him of all people. Not even when he confronted her on the night of her birthday did he use such a tone. Her eyes immediately fell down and as she tried to work out what to do next. He had thrown her again, in a matter of seconds and it frustrated her to no end.

When she looked up again, he had already closed the gap between the two of them and she couldn't help the small gasp that escaped her at his close proximity. She tried taking a step backwards and almost cursed when she hit the table.

She inhaled sharply as he lowered his head closely to hers; so close that she could feel his breath along her neck, causing goosebumps to erupt along her neck and shoulder.

"Nothing," she replied quietly, trying to control her breathing as her heart began thumping uncontrollably. Just what exactly was he trying to do?

He chuckled, bringing one of his hands up to her neck, fingers lightly caressing the goosebumps which were still there. "Why are you getting so nervous?" he asked.

Hermione bit her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head emphatically at his question, which only caused him to chuckle again.

"It's just that you can't help but make me wonder…" he added in that soft and gentle murmur, hand still caressing her neck, though she felt his face move slightly away from hers. He paused and she felt one his fingers softly trace a sensitive area of her neck, causing her to shiver, before he gave what seemed like an almost triumphant chuckle.

Hermione's eyes shot open and she finally forced herself to look up at him. His expression was blank, except for the obvious calculation in his dark eyes. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting to see, but after taking in his expression, feelings she couldn't really define rushed through her. Frustration? Annoyance? Perhaps you're disappointed, a part of her mocked. She quickly dismissed such a ridiculous notion and squared her shoulders. Of course he was merely playing with her! Why on earth did she even let it bother her?

"I could help you…" he trailed off quietly, his eyes trained on hers, watching her intently.

It made her feel embarrassed that he thought that he could manipulate her in a way which he had obviously used on girls before her. Did he disregard her intelligence that easily? She honestly thought that after all of their discussions on magical theory, as well as other topics, that he had at least acknowledged her as being more intelligent than most. That was what made her feel the most furious and embarrassed – not the fact that his attentions were a calculated act and how he probably treated most women he wanted something from. Well, that's was she determinedly told herself, anyway. She felt so foolish even allowing his physical closeness to affect her in such a way.

Hermione straightened, not breaking eye contact with him. "Oh, I don't think you could help me," she replied coolly.

His eyes, if possible, darkened; an unknown emotion passing through them. Hermione couldn't and, at this point in time, didn't want to try and understand whatever he was feeling. Why did his reaction make her feel like they were currently talking about much more than her project?

"If you could excuse me," she said in that same cold, quiet and sure tone, "I need to get back to work."

As she stepped around him and their bodies brushed lightly against each other as she moved away, Hermione didn't even notice the way his eyes never left her form, as she walked away from him.

Later that day, as she replayed the events that had transpired between the two of them in her head, for what felt like the hundredth time, she realised that Tom Riddle had made the mistake – whether by choice or not – of dropping some of his precious act around her. A few years ago this would have frightened her, but now all it made her realise was that she had suddenly gained something in a relationship which had previously felt unbalanced.

Minerva was waiting at the front gates for Hermione when she finally arrived on Saturday. The two young women greeted each other excitedly before they began their walk up to the castle.

"Professor Dumbledore is just in a meeting with Headmaster Dippet, though he said just to take tea in the Transfiguration classroom and he'd be with you shortly." Minerva explained as they went through the castle entrance doors.

Hermione nodded, although her attention may have been worth nought. She was too busy taking in the surroundings of the beloved school which was so familiar to her, yet at the same time, felt so different in this time period.

Hermione couldn't help but compare the students of the forties to those of her generation. All of the students seemed to be dressed so impeccably. The girls all had their hair perfectly coiffed, whilst the boys all looked as though their pants were neatly pressed and ironed. Hermione was again reminded of how much she missed the casualness of the nineties. She remembered running around Hogwarts in jeans, sneakers and comfortable jumpers. Clothing that was practical and comfortable. She couldn't imagine how much time most of these girls spent on their hair each morning.

They finally reached the Transfiguration classroom and made their way into a back area which appeared to be Professor Dumbledore's office. She then turned to Minerva and couldn't stop the large grin from spreading across her face knowing that she would eventually become her Professor and Head of House.

"Tea?" Minerva asked as they made their way out the back into the teacher office.

"Sure," Hermione replied, looking around and recognising many of Dumbledore's trinkets spinning and whirling in the office. "Where's your office?" Hermione asked and turned and watched Minerva magically prepare them tea.

"Oh, you mean the broom closet masquerading as an office?" she replied with good nature. "It's just down the hall, I was actually lucky to get an office, being a teacher's assistant and all. They said if I cleaned the room up myself I could use it."

Hermione nodded and sat down across from Minerva, adding some sugar to her tea and taking one of the pieces of apple tea cake that had obviously been sent up from the kitchens. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments as they enjoyed their afternoon tea before Hermione remembered something she wanted to tell Minerva.

"So Alphard stopped by the shop," Hermione began casually, eyeing Minerva to see her response.

Minerva immediately sat up straighter and gave a nonchalant shrug. "Oh?"

"Yes. Apparently you aren't talking to him," Hermione replied.

"Oh! that no good…! I can't believe he went and complained to you. That is so inappropriate of him!"

"Well I suppose his request of putting in a good word in has failed before I even really began," Hermione replied. "And to be fair, he didn't complain to me… I think he was hoping I would see his side of things."

Minerva merely replied with some nonsensical mutterings and insults about her Slytherin suitor.

Hermione gave an amused sigh, "Don't be so hard on him; he seems to absolutely adore you…Of course it's in his own sneaky and conniving way."

Minerva glared at her, "Don't tell me you're now on his side?"

Hermione put her hands up in self-defence, "He was the one that came and spoke to me. Anyway, I thought that everything was okay after my birthday night… He did go and say goodbye to you and all, and, er, I saw the two of you… you know, outside the bathrooms?" Hermione awkwardly added.

Minerva blushed so heavily Hermione wondered if smoke was going to start emitting from her ears. "He asked me to go away with him for a weekend…"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "And are you?"

Minerva looked somewhat scandalised, "No!"

"Oh?"

"We're – we're not even engaged Hermione! It's entirely inappropriate!"

Hermione blushed. She kept forgetting about the different standards in this time. In her time, no one even batted an eye lid about her and Ron living together before they were engaged. Ron… She had been trying not to dwell too much on Ron as it just caused her to get upset. She usually managed to get through the days without missing him too much. The nights were the most difficult, when she had to go to bed alone, no one to give her any affection or be intimate with… "You just seem so alone" Riddle's words suddenly played in her mind without warning, causing Hermione to take a quick, shuddering breath. Minerva looked at her in slight alarm.

"Oh Hermione, I wasn't yelling at you… sorry, I know you meant no harm by it," Minerva apologised, obviously taking Hermione's sad look as one of offence.

"Oh no, Minerva, I wasn't upset at you… I was just a bit distracted that's all," Hermione replied quickly.

"Oh… are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine… I was just thinking, don't worry about it."

Minerva gave her a comforting smile and didn't push the subject, which Hermione was thankful for. She had felt so confused lately and couldn't understand what was wrong with her. Ever since her birthday she had felt so incredibly off kilter.

"So is that all Alphard was there for?"

"Well, he actually came to see if I was okay…. I kind of stormed out of my birthday, after you left," Hermione replied awkwardly, and a bit embarrassed about the entire matter.

"You what? Why?" Minerva looked at her in surprise.

"Well… I caught Malfoy talking to Alex-"

Minerva held up her hand quickly, "Say no more, I'm pretty sure if Malfoy was talking it wasn't nice – or particularly intelligent for that matter."

Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned in agreement. It was almost comforting to know that Draco Malfoy's ancestors seemed to be just as dim-witted as she believed he was.

"So Alex knows you're a muggleborn now I take it?" Minerva asked.

"Er, not exactly…" Hermione replied awkwardly, looking down at her cup of tea.

"Hermione!"

"What?" Hermione replied defensively, "I did yell at them… it all just happened so fast. Anyway, Alphard knows that I am a muggleborn – well, he actually guessed," Hermione blushed somewhat, "And I told him that I have no romantic interest in Alex – I don't think he'll be bothering me again anyway. Especially after the serve I gave him and then told Alphard that I am not interested."

"Let's hope for your sake he is… I'm surprised he's even pursuing it, considering his engagement to June Parkinson is to be announced shortly,"

Hermione shrugged, she didn't care one way or the other. "Maybe he was looking for an escape?"

Minerva scoffed, "This is something that's probably been planned since they were children. Merlin, the way that awful bint used to trail around after him at school like a lost puppy – she was one of the… well one of Walburga's little gang…" Minerva trailed off, a sudden morbid look on her face.

Hermione gave Minerva a sympathetic look; she recalled what Minerva had told her about what had happened in her final year. She had been poisoned – most likely by Walburga – because of rumours about her and Alphard.

"I met her the other night you know," Hermione said, "If it's any consolation she seems really daft," Hermione tried to joke.

"The stupid ones are sometimes the most dangerous," Minerva muttered absentmindedly before looking at her. "How did you meet her anyway?"

"Er…" Hermione suddenly felt guilty for saying she was at dinner with Riddle. She wasn't sure why, it wasn't like she had asked him, he had just invited himself along! "I was at dinner," she said awkwardly, "with Riddle…" she muttered the last part and looked sideways.

"You were at dinner with Riddle? Why?"

Hermione couldn't stop her cheeks from flushing. "It was nothing, really." She looked up at Minerva, who seemed sceptical and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"What's going on with the two of you?" she asked.

"Nothing, I already told you-"

"Yes, yes, I heard you. But you have to admit, he does seem to be around you… a lot."

"Well he was lending me a very valuable book, but I've finished reading it anyway," Hermione explained feeling very defensive, though Minerva still looked incredibly disbelieving.

Minerva's reaction made her think of Alphard's earlier warning, as well as the look that was shared between both Alphard and Minerva regarding Riddle pulling her out of the way from Alex's wayward curse. She wondered if it was a good idea to ask Minerva what her thoughts were on Riddle. Whilst Alphard hadn't really been forthcoming in his suspicions of the Slytherin heir and Hermione knew deep-down what kind of person he was, she was still extremely curious to see if anyone else suspected who Tom Riddle was.

"Minerva, what issue do you and Alphard have with Tom Riddle? I tried asking Alphard the other day but he didn't give much light on the whole thing," she finally asked.

Minerva shrugged, "It's nothing really… I mean don't you have a boyfriend?"

Hermione wasn't buying it. "Minerva… I know you both know something. Just tell me! Please, I won't say anything. If anything, I am pretty sure I know what kind of person Riddle is,"

Minerva let out a frustrated breath, before looking at Hermione again. "Okay, look, there's no real proof but I can't help but get a bad feeling about it all being linked somehow…"

"Linked? What's linked?"

"I think Tom Riddle knew about Alphard and I. Not long before I was poisoned," an anguished look crossed her face, "I think Tom might have caught us out – we were always so careful, but there was just one time where I am absolutely sure he saw something. Then suddenly, Walburga is throwing accusations around about the two of us… you add it up." Her tone was bitter by the end of her explanation.

"You think Tom told Walburga about the two of you?"

Minerva shrugged and worried her bottom lip. "You know, I never really took much notice of Tom Riddle before it happened. What I mean to say is that he was a year below me and in a different house. Sure, everyone knew who he was… the perfect, handsome, kind and intelligent prefect." There was a slight mocking tone to Minerva's voice as she recited the last part. "Then when Alphard and I grew close, Alphard had made some small comments about Tom and some of his suspicions about what he and his friends got up to. So I guess I started to take notice and when I did it just actually scared me what I saw. There was such a level of coldness there, you know? I was just so… shocked. Could anyone else – besides Alphard - see what I could see? Or more importantly, why couldn't they see it? Are we that superficial?"

"Most people are, unfortunately," Hermione interjected as Minerva took a breath.

"After I thought he had found us out, I was worried. Of all people to catch the muggleborn Gryffindor and Alphard Black it had to be the Slytherin prefect, right?" She huffed a laugh. "So I kept watch and began to notice that he was watching us… always with that coldness and something else which I couldn't really pin point. Then, after I got poisoned he just had this look. Whilst I know that it wasn't his hand, how did Walburga find out? Where would someone as daft as her get such a potion? Do I sound as though I am over-thinking things?"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No, of course not! You're not Minerva. And you're not the only one who sees through it. He does know about you both, you're right. He told me he knew you were a couple."

"Wait, he told you?"

"Well, we both saw you two on the night of my birthday," Hermione looked away awkwardly. "He already knew…"

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, sounding vindicated.

"Well unfortunately you'll probably never be able to prove your theory about the poisoning," Hermione said, "And whilst I believe you have a good point, what if he didn't actually have anything to do with it? What if Walburga simply caught you out? Like you said, it is the stupid ones who can sometimes cause the most damage."

Before the two young women could continue their discussion, the door creaked open and Dumbledore appeared, blue eyes twinkling, "Hermione, are you ready to meet my friend?"

After Minerva had excused herself, Hermione found herself seated across from Dumbledore as he quietly sorted through some parchment on his desk. He looked up from his work and smiled at her.

"I dare say he shouldn't be too long," Dumbledore announced as he set the parchment aside and clasped his hands together on the desk.

"Who is he?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," he replied cryptically, obviously enjoying the mystery of it all with her.

"Do you really think he can help me?" Hermione asked.

"I hope so. I haven't gone too much into your situation with him; I thought that you would be the best person to explain your situation."

Hermione simply smiled in response just as the floo system activated. Quickly looking over towards the fireplace, she watched as a man stepped out, checking his robes to ensure their cleanliness.

The man was tall, and looked to be about the same age as Dumbledore. Where Dumbledore's hair still held traces of Auburn, this man's hair was black, with lots of grey streaked through. Tall and lean, with a strong jawline, Hermione concluded that the man appeared quite distinguished and important. She wondered what part of the Ministry he worked in. Perhaps he was an Unspeakable too?

"Albus," the man greeted before turning his attention to Hermione, "And you must be Miss Edwards?"

Hermione nodded as he pulled up a chair next to her and made himself comfortable.

"Thank you for sparing your time Phineas," Dumbledore replied happily. "Hermione, it's my pleasure to introduce you to Phineas Black."

Hermione's jaw dropped open in surprise, "Wait, did you just say Black?"

The man she now knew as Phineas Black turned and smirked at her. "Why yes… Formerly part of the wonderful ancient house of Black… etcetera, etcetera…" he waved his pale, long-fingered hands in the air nonchalantly.

"Formerly?" Hermione questioned, and looked between the two men who shared a look of amusement before Phineas turned his attention back to her.

"I was disowned," he answered, without a care in the world. "Quite some time ago, I might add,"

"Oh." Hermione replied, eyebrows furrowing in thought. She wanted to ask him why he had been disowned of course, but didn't want to be rude. However Phineas seemed more than comfortable explaining it to her.

"I was disowned in one of the only ways a Black can be – other than for being a squib, of course – I support muggles and muggleborns, and had no interest in continuing the rather incestuous, inbred ways of my former family," he explained rather calmly, with a handsome smile on his face.

"Oh," Hermione repeated. She suddenly felt rather stupid and blushed as he eyed her in an amused manner. Trying to redeem herself she cleared her throat, "So, er, what part of the Ministry are you in?"

It annoyed her that he shared another amused look with Dumbledore before turning back to her. "The Ministry?" He questioned in an almost incredulous manner. "Oh no, I have nothing to do with the Ministry."

"I'm sorry, I guess I just assumed…" Hermione trailed off.

"Quite alright," he replied.

Dumbledore smiled at the two of them. "Hermione, Phineas works completely independent of the Ministry… funded by those who believe that the Ministry cannot answer everything – nor should they have access to everything,"

"So… it's some kind of private, er, contract work?" Hermione guessed.

"Somewhat…" Dumbledore replied. "Though not really. Phineas began as an apprentice, a few years after his graduation from Hogwarts. He is the only one who works full-time on the project. The rest of us meet once every six months to discuss matters of interest, any potential political issues and so on,"

Phineas continued where Dumbledore finished off. "The Ministry, whilst having some areas I am not too critical of – I actually spent a few years working in the Ministry before being offered the Apprenticeship – are too caught up in their own self-interest to involve in any of the independent work I conduct. It's too risky with changing governments and leaders to involve them. If someone was to gain power that was corrupt, well, it would put all of our work at risk."

Hermione quickly nodded in agreement, remembering Fudge and cronies like Umbridge. Not to mention the Death Eaters who infiltrated the Ministry during Voldemort's two attempts to rise into power.

"We also deal very closely with the muggle world. There are several private muggle groups – similar to ours – which prefer to stay independent of their own states and governments. The Ministry still, unfortunately, has too much influence from the old pureblood families to involve them in anything we do." He continued to explain.

Hermione soaked up all of this information with immense interest. She had never heard of such an project or person, which was understandable considering where she worked.

"How do you deal with the muggle world? The Ministry deals with the British muggle government…"

"No. We don't deal with governments… we deal with the people behind the government; businesses, private organisations. The royal family is also aware of us and I deal with them quite often-"

"The British royal family? But wasn't the secrecy statute created because the royal family couldn't pass muggle laws to protect wizards?"

"Yes, that was a rather undesirable time for one of my predecessors… But my position dates back centuries. In fact, it originated as an advisory position to the royal family and then expanded and developed as time passed. As you may be aware, since the introduction of the Statute, the Ministry has placed less and less importance on our linkages with the muggle world. Don't get me wrong, the separation between our two worlds is incredibly important. But in our moves to invoke such secrecy, certain history and traditions have fallen by the side with the Ministry. I act as caretaker of very important historical information and ensure it's not forgotten."

Hermione stared at him in amazement. She suddenly wanted to know every, little thing that Phineas knew. He'd have access not only to what was publicly available to the wizarding world but valuable books and information that was probably centuries old and long forgotten by the Ministry.

"So, as you can understand Hermione, we'd prefer Phineas to help you rather than request assistance from the Ministry," Dumbledore interjected.

"Well, it all depends on what she needs help with…" Phineas replied before turning all of his attention towards Hermione.

Hermione looked to Dumbledore who nodded in encouragement. She took a deep breath and decided to start from beginning…

"I can see why the Ministry shouldn't be assisting you," Phineas concluded as Hermione finished explaining her situation.

"But are you able to help me?" Hermione asked.

Phineas shrugged, "That remains to be seen. Is there anything more you can tell me about the woman who spoke to you in the Veil?"

"Well, no. I didn't recognise her at all, and she didn't tell me who she was either,"

Phineas sat there, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the arm of his chair. "Well, there is one thing that I could suggest, though I'm not sure if you'd be comfortable with it…"

Hermione's eyebrows rose in interest. She could think of very few things she wouldn't be willing to do to try and get home. "What did you have in mind?"

"Would you mind if I performed legilimency? Perhaps if I can view your memory of the matter it might assist me more." He asked.

Hermione looked from Phineas to Dumbledore. Dumbledore, despite Hermione being aware that he was an expert in legilimency, had not attempted to look into her mind as yet – well, not that she was aware of anyway. She suddenly wondered why that was.

"Professor, why didn't you perform legilimency on me?" She asked, instead of answering Phineas straight away.

Dumbledore looked from her to Phineas. "Well, to be honest, I did not think that I would need to go to such lengths, nor did I believe that I would recognise the woman. I also could tell that you were telling the truth so I felt no need to do such a thing. Legilimency is not something I take lightly, Hermione, and looking into what is essentially part of someone's psyche is an incredibly personal thing. Though, I think you should seriously consider Phineas's proposition. He is far more skilled than I am – his position requires it."

Hermione, after considering Dumbledore's words for a moment, turned to Phineas, "I'd like to try it," she said.

"Now? Or would you prefer to wait and have a think about it?" he asked.

"What's there to really think about? I mean, I trust that you won't look into things that you aren't meant to. I trust you because Professor Dumbledore obviously trusts you." Hermione replied.

Phineas nodded. "I trust that your experience as an Unspeakable means that you have experience with someone performing this on you?"

Hermione bit back a slight grimace, recalling that rather unpleasant part of her job. "Of course,"

"So would you like to try now?"

"Yes," Hermione replied.

Phineas nodded and moved himself so his chair was now facing towards hers. Hermione did the same so that they were now directly facing one-another. "Now, to make this as comfortable as possible, I need you to relax and keep the memory right at the forefront of your mind. Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded and swallowed heavily, pulling the memory forth and concentrating. Phineas moved closer to her and she felt his hands grip her chin. He then directly looked into her eyes, causing Hermione to initially – as a subconscious reaction – break eye contact.

"You must keep eye contact," Phineas ordered at her slight.

She moved her eyes back, and grimaced. "Sorry, I must admit I'm not a huge fan of this," she explained.

"Understandable," he muttered, holding her stare.

Hermione concentrated, and pulled the memory back to the forefront of her mind after the initial distraction. At her look of concentration, Phineas gave a small nod of approval.

"Very good," he stated, almost absentmindedly.

At first it was like a gently prod; one could almost liken the feeling to a light breeze. She had to admit he was much gentler than those at the Ministry when she was undergoing her training. She suddenly felt him there, and in a rather placid manner, he swirled around the memory she was purposely pushing. Suddenly, he pulled out, a look of frustration clear on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't understand…" Phineas muttered.

"What did you find Phineas?" Dumbledore prodded.

Phineas looked at them both, a hint of confusion in his eyes, "The memory… it was incredibly distorted. It was as though it had been tampered with – but not in the traditional sense that memory charms can be performed. Hermione, would you mind if I tried again?"

"Sure," Hermione replied.

She felt him enter her mind again, this time a bit more forcefully than the prior attempt. She cringed slightly as she felt him pushing at the same memory, putting more concentration into viewing it. But before she knew it, he had pulled out again – the frustration very clear on his face.

"You can clearly view it? What I mean to say is, do you notice any distortion with the image?" he asked Hermione.

Hermione nodded. She was able to see it as clear as day, so why couldn't he? She explained as much to him, which only made Phineas purse his lips in annoyance.

"What do you think, Phineas?" Dumbledore asked.

Phineas sighed. "I think it might be some kind of… hybrid of a memory charm – if that makes any sense? I can't help but think that whoever it was who sent Hermione here didn't want anyone to see who they were,"

"Except I can?" Hermione interjected.

"Correct," Phineas answered. "The magic can't really penetrate your psyche in that way. I suspect she wasn't too worried because you obviously had no idea who she was, but that someone else would."

Hermione felt her stomach drop. Fan-bloody-tastic! This was just too typical. Of course there would be some kind of hurdle in her way when she had finally found someone – other than Dumbledore – with the expertise to help her.

"Care to draw us a picture then, Hermione?" Dumbledore piped up from his desk, a small smile of amusement on his face.

Hermione huffed. This was no joking matter! Whilst she loved her old Headmaster, she suddenly wondered how Harry had put up with his somewhat ambiguous ways. Merlin, forget Harry, what about Professor Snape? Realising that she was going off track with her thoughts on how errant Dumbledore could be she sucked in a breath and looked at Phineas.

"Try again," Hermione demanded as she stared at him with determination.

"Mate, you need to give up," Alphard announced, after taking a sip of his firewhiskey, and looked around the Leaky Cauldron. It was a busy night. Unsurprising really, it was a Saturday after all.

"Give up? What are you talking about?" Abraxas asked as he downed the last of his own shot.

"I wasn't talking to you, you git," Alphard replied mildly, which earned a mock glare from his blonde friend.

"Give up on what?" Alex finally replied.

"More like who…" Abraxas muttered, causing Alex to give him a sharp look.

"Hermione, of course," Alphard replied plainly. "You haven't a chance, mate."

Alex rolled his eyes and then looked at Alphard. "Thank you for your vote of confidence, friend."

"I'm being serious. It is best you stop now, before you make a complete fool of yourself. And that's what friends do for one another – we warn each another when they're about to make idiots of themselves." Alphard relpied and watched as Alex huffed.

"I don't understand your fascination Alex; you don't even know her family history." Abraxas added.

"I know enough," Alex muttered in a sulky tone, looking down at his drink moodily, causing Alphard to think of a spoiled five year old who wasn't given the toy they wanted.

"Hardly!" Abraxas scoffed.

"Well how do you explain the magical home-schooling? Not to mention the other things that Dolohov and the others had mentioned!" Alex sneered back. "She's at least a half-blood!"

"Salazar, will you listen to yourself? A half-blood?" Abraxas half yelled, earning a glare from his two friends as well as a couple of curious stares from some of the other patrons surrounding them.

"Show a bit more discretion, Abraxas," Alphard warned quietly as he looked around the bar, not wishing to draw the ire of any non-pureblooded wizards because of Abraxas and his big mouth.

"Still! What is the fascination with this girl? You're parents are getting ready to announce your formal engagement to June very soon! The Parkinson family are well-respected... You did well getting June. She's not too awful on the eye either," Abraxas reasoned.

Alex rolled his eyes. "You have got to be kidding me. June Parkinson is hideous-"

"Won't argue with you there," Alphard interjected with a smirk, before allowing Alex to continue.

"I don't even know how I'd go to bed with such a creature, let alone produce any heirs! Mother and Father have no idea what they are expecting of me. At least they fell in love with one-another. There is no way I could love someone as daft as June Parkinson."

"So you think Hermione Edwards is the answer to your problems?" Alphard asked with an incredulous tone.

"Well, she's pretty, intelligent and can hold herself with anyone by the look of it… she's so different to the girls we went to school with. She seems to actually know what's going on outside of a Twilfit and Tattings catalogue."

Alphard raised his eyebrows in surprise. He'd never heard his friend give much thought on a girl. Then again, Alex had never really had to work for a girl before, so perhaps it was some weird 'thrill of the chase' for him. Even though Alphard really liked Hermione and could see why blokes would like her in a romantic sense, the little pedestal Alex had inadvertently placed her on was surprising.

Alphard could only guess that whilst Alex did really like Hermione, he was also looking for an escape route from marrying June Parkinson. Perhaps he thought that if he got Hermione, his parents wouldn't make him marry June.

"She's got a boyfriend, though," Alphard said.

"And I don't care what you lot say, her parentage is still not really known!" Abraxas quickly repeated.

But Alphard noted that Alex did not appear to be listening to Abraxas. "Boyfriend? He's never even come to visit her according to Skeeter. What kind of boyfriend do you call that?"

Both Alphard and Abraxas rolled their eyes. This was impossible.

"I only have one bit of advice for you," Abraxas began.

"Which is?" Alex finally gave Abraxas some attention.

"Purebloods are for marrying, half-bloods are for shagging." He announced with an arrogant smirk.

Alphard shook his head. "Abraxas, you really are pathetic…"

"What?" Abraxas exclaimed. "It's a perfectly acceptable saying!"

"For you," Alphard retorted. "Honestly, the way you carry on sometimes, Abraxas… hardly the behaviour of a gentlemen is it?" he added as he eyed his friend.

"What?" Abraxas looked at him as if he didn't understand how crude he was being.

Alphard didn't respond. Sometimes he wondered about Abraxas and how long he could continue listening to his inappropriate diatribes. They'd known each other for as long as Alphard could remember, but sometimes his friend made him feel so trapped. Alex wasn't as bad as Abraxas, but they both constantly reminded him of the life that was expected of him, not the life he actually wanted. The life he wanted was with Minerva, but that looked to be nothing but hopeless. Before he could send himself into too much of a depression, Abraxas interrupted his thoughts again.

"Well Alex, if it isn't your little dream girl coming out of the floo," Abraxas announced, causing Alex to quickly turn his chair and almost fall off it.

Alphard looked up and sure enough, Hermione Edwards had stumbled through the fireplace, looking quite pale and tired. He furrowed his brows in concentration wondering what was wrong with her as she stood by the floo, obviously waiting for someone. He wondered who she was waiting for. Suddenly the fireplace lit up again and out stepped a very familiar figure…

"Hey Alphard, isn't that your Great Uncle the blood traitor?" Abraxas asked as they watched Phineas Black escort an obviously exhausted looking Hermione through the Leaky Cauldron.

Alphard simply nodded, wondering what Hermione was doing with his Great Uncle and why she looked so pale and sickly. He watched his Great Uncle place an arm around her shoulders to keep her from knocking into the other patrons in the rather packed pub, and directed her through.

"What's wrong with her?" Alex sounded concerned as he watched them leave the building.

"Not sure…" Alphard replied. His questions surrounding Hermione suddenly expanded by tenfold. His friends had no idea who his Uncle was, but Alphard knew. Just what sort of project was she working on?

"Excuse me, but do you have any new books in on Memory Charm theory at the moment?" Hermione politely asked the front counter clerk at Flourish and Blotts.

After she received directions she thanked the shop assistant and made her way through the crowded shop towards the back.

After what had turned into a gruelling legilimency session in Dumbledore's office on Saturday, with still no luck on Phineas's behalf, they had parted ways with Phineas promising to look into his extensive library for an answer and get back to her as soon as possible. They had even tried to view the memory in a pensieve, with still no luck. But Phineas had managed to chide her for listening to someone who seemed as "idiotic" as Zacharius Smith. 'Obviously the requirements for becoming an Unspeakable have significantly lowered over the years!' He had sniffed, causing Hermione to huff indignantly and state that she was an Unspeakable too.

Therefore, hoping that maybe she could help Phineas, Hermione had decided to do a bit of her own further research on memory charms until she heard anything from him. Of course, she was already well versed on the theory behind an Obliviate, but Hermione had decided that she wanted to reacquaint herself with any information available (one could never be too prepared). She also wanted to see if there was much theoretical information on reversing modified memory charms; especially one which distorted the actual vision of the memory – which was quite different from the memory charms she had performed in the past.

She rounded another corner in the store and silently cursed the narrow, crowded aisles. Since she had been working at Knights, the aisles had become much easier to navigate as Hermione slowly worked her way through sorting out all of the books. She was very proud of her achievement, a sense of satisfaction overtaking her whenever she remembered the disarray that the shop was in when she first started there.

Finally making it to the back area of the shop, where the Memory Charm books were supposed to be, she was annoyed to hear what sounded like incessant, girly giggling. Hermione rolled her eyes. Honestly, what an annoying laugh! She thought to herself.

Rounding the corner, she almost groaned out loud when she spotted Tom Riddle speaking to the source of all the incessant giggling. Quickly stepping back behind one the shelves, she cursed under her breath. Of course! Merlin forbid going one week without seeing his smug face!

Surprisingly, it had almost been a week since she had seen Tom. After their weird 'moment' in the shop, he hadn't stopped by to annoy her nor had she ran into him in Diagon Alley. She was actually wondering if he had given up after her rather rude rebuttal to his advances in finding out more about her project.

The girl laughed loudly again, causing Hermione to suddenly pay attention and listen to their conversation.

"Oh Tom, you really are too much! We really should catch up more often," the incessant giggler exclaimed, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

"Well Holly, it is wonderful to see how well you're doing," Riddle replied in what Hermione thought was a sickly sweet tone, "Life must be treating you well."

"Oh it is! Tom, you must come to dinner one day at our house. I know Father has some items of historic value that you'd no doubt be interested in… Actually, I just remembered! Mother is having a small soiree very soon. The Minister will probably be there, of course," She replied and Hermione detected the smugness in her tone at the mention of the Minister.

"That's very kind of you Holly," Tom replied, Hermione rolling her eyes as she detected the false modesty in his voice.

This style of conversation continued on for several minutes, causing Hermione to groan quietly and bang her head lightly on the bookshelf beside her in exasperation. What was wrong with these girls? Hermione suddenly felt extremely embarrassed as she reminded of her own 'moment' with Riddle the other day… how utterly insulting that he seemed to put her in the same category as these clueless bints. The more she thought about it, mixed with listening to his conversation with the incessant giggler, Hermione found herself becoming angrier by the second.

Tired of waiting for their conversation to end, Hermione squared her shoulders, walked out from behind the shelf and towards them. Of course neither of them noticed her, something which, for some reason, annoyed her even more as she approached them. When she was finally within a couple of feet, Tom looked up from his conversation and the spark of recognition crossed his face before he settled on a rather arrogant smirk.

"Hello Hermione," Riddle greeted, his eyes intently fixed on her, causing her to flush. Trying to desperately ignore this traitorous response from her body, she quickly turned her attention away from him and to the incessant giggler, now known as Holly, who was eyeing Hermione in what looked like a disdainful manner.

"Riddle," Hermione replied primly, as she stopped before them.

Tom raised his eyebrows in what looked like amusement at her greeting. "I'm surprised to see you here," he said as he watched her.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well, you're shopping at the competition,"

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "So?"

Before Tom could answer, the girl, Holly, made a rather obvious coughing noise causing both Hermione and Tom to turn their attention towards her.

"I don't believe we've met?" Holly said, looking at Hermione.

"Of course, where are my manners?" Tom interjected humbly, "Holly, this is Hermione Edwards. Hermione, this is Holly Fudge."

Hermione had to stop herself from snorting out loud. Was this girl related to the incompetent Cornelius Fudge? As she pondered the matter, she stared at the girl, looking for any resemblance to the Minister (though it was quite futile). Turning her attention to both Tom and Holly, she realised that she obviously hadn't hidden her sniggering as discreetly as she initially thought. Tom eyed her with a curious expression, whilst Holly did nothing short of glare at her.

"Er, nice to meet you, Holly," Hermione replied, hoping to smooth over the awkward atmosphere she had created.

"Charmed, I'm sure…" she replied with a haughty air as she looked Hermione up and down, discreetly sneering at her, obviously not wanting Tom to notice.

If Hermione hadn't already ruined things with her less than secretive sniggering, she would have rolled her eyes at the other witch. As if she cared what that giggling cow thought of her clothes. Unfortunately, when Hermione gave her own look back she couldn't find any fault with Holly Fudge. Hair perfectly coiffed, fashionable robes and immaculately groomed, she was your typical pureblood princess. Well, she shouldn't be surprised really. Suddenly realising that Holly was talking to Riddle again, Hermione tuned back into the conversation.

"- Mother's soiree will be celebrating Cornelius's promotion of course. It would be wonderful if you could come along Tom," She babbled on, before sending Hermione a condescending look. "Everyone will be there."

But before Tom could answer Hermione decided she had had enough of this rather pretentious display. She wanted to go look at the books, anyway. She didn't have time to waste with the likes of such shallowness.

"Well," Hermione began, clearing her throat obviously, "As pleasant as this has been, I really must find those books."

Tom eyed her with amusement, which caught the attention of the giggling cow, who was now openly glaring at having her precious attention taken away. How pathetic, Hermione thought with annoyance. Were all girls that stupid around Tom Riddle? And to think that he had treated her with the same manipulative 'charm' he pulled on these bints just a few days ago! It was almost too insulting to think about. Well, she certainly wasn't going to stand around witnessing these pathetic displays.

"Have a lovely day," she smiled sweetly at the two of them and squeezed her way past them and continued towards the back of the store, still reeling at Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Not that he had actually done anything… for once. He was just annoying. Plain and simple. Always there with his stupid charming act and perfect, 'innocent' good looks. Great Godric, she almost couldn't wait for the day where he became the snake faced Voldemort she had been familiar with. That would show those silly girls who he really was, since they really were stupid enough to focus on his looks alone.

She huffed as she finally found the Memory Charm section. Searching through the books, she finally found one which looked a bit more advanced than the usual fare. Flicking through the pages, she was so engrossed she didn't even hear anyone approach until a hand moved over her shoulder plucking the book straight from her fingertips.

"Oi-" she began, spinning around, before Tom Riddle interrupted her.

"Memory Charms?" he asked, as he looked over the page she had just been reading.

Hermione resisted the urge to smack him; though she couldn't help the start her body gave at being snuck up on.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" he smirked at her.

"No." Hermione scowled, and went to grab her book back, though he obviously anticipated her move and held the book up out of her reach, causing her to groan in annoyance as she stood on the tips of her toes trying to reach it. Damn him for being so tall.

"So, Memory Charms? Is this part of your project too?"

"Give me my book back, Riddle," Hermione glared at him.

"But it's not your book, Hermione, you'd have to buy it for it to be yours," he smirked and waved the book in her face, pulling it high above her head again as she tried to grab it out of his hands.

"Well maybe I do fully intend on buying it, for your information! Now give it back right now!"

Tom gave her a satisfied smirk, though Hermione had no idea why. Handing her the book back he pushed it into her hands, their fingers brushing lightly.

"Since you've used such wonderful manners asking for it back," he said sarcastically as he gave it back.

"You don't deserve it!" she huffed at him and clutched the book close to her chest.

He suddenly took a step towards her, which automatically made her take a step backwards, causing her to stumble into the bookshelf. Trying to regain her footing she looked up only in time to see that he had boxed her into the shelves, both arms on either side of her as he leaned over her.

"What are you doing?" Hermione gasped, as she felt herself warm all over.

"Why are you always so suspicious Hermione? Especially around me… you're always so quick to think the worst of me – yet no one else gets that treatment." He murmured, his eyes intense.

Hermione stayed silent for a few moments, trying to fully gauge the situation. Looking down at her shoes and then looking back up at him, she felt trapped – both physically and mentally. Trying not to look at his face, as he was far too close for comfort, she turned her head to the side. She flushed in embarrassment as she realised how much his looks affected her. But she was not one of those stupid girls! And yet here he was still treating her like one.

"I-I'm not one of those girls," Hermione muttered, chancing a glance at him, only to see his expression change from one of intensity to faint amusement.

"One of those girls?" he questioned, a faux look of confusion on his face.

"You know what I'm talking about."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, before he lifted one of his hands and ran it gently through her hair. Hermione's eyes widened and she couldn't help but shiver as she felt his fingers move gently across her scalp, careful not to snag his fingers on her bushy hair.

"Oh," he finally said, deeply concentrating on her hair. Hermione could only imagine how bushy it was getting under his scrutiny. His face got that intense look again as she felt him wrap his hands around a section of hair, tugging on it lightly.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, voice cracking.

He observed her quietly before tugging lightly on her hair so her head was slightly pulled back to stare directly at him. "I know you're not like other girls," he finally murmured, "You've got far too many secrets for the average girl…"

Hermione swallowed thickly, now staring at him. "They're my secrets." she finally whispered.

His eyes darkened dangerously and Hermione felt shamefully weak as she continued looking at him. There was something in the air that she couldn't really explain, but she knew it was him. She had felt his magic before, but for the first time the feel of it suddenly made her understand Voldemort in a way she never had before. She now understood why people chose to blindly follow him, why he was able to command such a presence.

She could feel him wash over her; he was all around her, demanding everything, and she shuddered in response, unable to control her reactions anymore. His gaze intensified as he felt her reaction, his magic contracting around her, filling up the entire space around them. Her breathing deepened as his head dropped down to hers, his nose only centimetres from hers. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in both fear and an emotion she was not ready to label with him of all people. His magic intensified again and she gasped as she felt his warm breath mingle with hers.

"I will find out why you're here Hermione. If I want something, I go after it and I get it. Do you understand me?" he finally murmured.

Her eyes snapped open, only to see him step back from her, his face almost a blank mask if it weren't for his eyes, which were blazing. He stared at her for a moment, before finally turning on his heel and walking away from her.

This time, it was Hermione who watched him walk away, until he disappeared. The weight of what had just happened truly hit her, and she sunk to her knees, still clutching at her book as though it were a life raft. Everything had suddenly changed. She realised that he had turned the tables, yet again, and there would be no more games played. At the idea of him suddenly dropping his act, she wasn't sure if she was more frightened or relieved.
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