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Somewhere in Time	By : serpentinred Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 64471 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money from these writings.

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Chapter 13

"Hermione!" Gareth called when she walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts class the next day. She smiled faintly, walked over to where he and Joseph were sitting, and sat down next to him.

She started to take out her writing equipment when she noticed Gareth and Joseph whispering to one another and occasionally glancing at her. The two of them stopped whispering and stared back at her with ridiculous grins on their faces before Gareth cleared his throat.

"So … Hermione …"

"Yes?"

She had a feeling that this conversation was going to steer towards a direction she would not enjoy too much.

"We heard about you getting yourself into detention last night," Gareth continued.

"And?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at them, a bit surprised at how quickly the rumors spread.

"We also heard that you're going to have detention as Riddle's assistant," Joseph added.

Hermione had a hunch about what they were implying and replied, "I didn't ask for it."

"Uh huh," Joseph smirked, causing her to narrow her eyes at him while he flipped through his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

Muttering under her breath about "stupid rumor mills", she took out her textbook and placed it on the desk when she began to hear snippets from the two Gryffindor boys' conversation.

"… and Harry wouldn't believe me. I told him that she fancies him …"

She whipped her head around and stared at the young man who looked so similar to Ron.

"And who fancies who?" she asked dangerously, folding her arms across her chest.

"Er …" Gareth gulped, turning her attention over to her. "Merrythought fancies the Giant Squid."

"I'm sure," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

She decided to ignore them, which was easier said than done. She was sorely tempted to pull a Ginny and curse them with a Bat-Bogey Hex, or maybe even throw her textbooks at them although she couldn't see herself abusing any books in that manner; their incessant chuckling and whispering were driving her to the point of insanity. She swore she could hear them all the way from the other side of the room when she was paired with Augusta to practice the Sasquatch Repelling Spell. She momentarily wondered if Augusta had bribed them to use the chattering as a way to distract her.

Hermione almost wanted to shout out in relief when the class finally ended. That was, until Merrythought called her name while she was walking out of class.

"Tom, Hermione, may I speak with the two of you for a few minutes?"

Draco frowned and glanced at Hermione with a worried look as he walked out of the classroom, almost causing her to smile. She was glad that they were slowly forming a kind of comradeship, even though it was hard for him to trust her completely yet.

"Yes, Professor?" Tom questioned, pulling out his innocent Head Boy act again and causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

Thankfully, neither of them had their eyes on her.

"I've heard from Professor Slughorn concerning issues about your … personal lives. Although I'm not in the position to tell you what you should or should not do, I'm hoping that it will not affect your grades," Merrythought replied.

The two of them stared at her. To Hermione, the professor's voice was quickly losing its angelic touch.

Before either one of them could say anything, Merrythought continued, "I know that the two of you are of age and it's absolutely normal to be attracted to members of the opposite sex, but both of you are the most promising students I've ever taught!" She gazed at Hermione fondly. "Although this is the first year I've taught you, I have to say that you do have the potential to become an outstanding member of our society." She looked at Tom, "I trust you will remember the amount of compliments I have given you throughout the last six years. The two of you must understand that your courses at Hogwarts will end soon and you will have an entire lifetime to get to know each other another. I sincerely hope that you will keep schoolwork ahead of other things."

"I'll keep that in mind, Professor," Tom replied, apparently recovering from the astonishment faster than Hermione again.

"Wonderful! I'm expecting to see fantastic grades on your N.E.W.T.s. I understand that it's going to be quite hard for you to concentrate, since young love can be rather distracting."

She couldn't help herself—Hermione promptly snorted. Merrythought was perhaps too immersed in what she was saying to notice it; however, Tom threw an amused glance in her direction before looking back at the professor.

"Don't worry, Professor. It will not affect my grades," he reassured Merrythought, who then bade them goodbye happily.

Noticing that Hermione stood still gawking at him, he frowned and pulled her out the classroom by her sleeve.

"Why … why didn't you explain to her?" Hermione stuttered once they were in the hallway.

Instead of answering her, he narrowed his eyes at a pair of students a few meters away from them.

"Farrow! Ten points from Gryffindor! And if I see you attempting to break into the teacher's cabinet again, it will be another twenty!" Tom barked.

The two Gryffindor second years immediately ran off in the opposite direction, all the while looking suspiciously between Hermione and Tom. She heaved a sigh, realizing that there was bound to be even more rumors by dinnertime.

A few minutes passed before Tom finally replied to her, "I don't see the point of explaining to her. If you haven't noticed, most of the professors are quite stubborn when it comes to their beliefs." He stared at her, waiting to see if she had something to say before continuing, "The rumors are not going to stop because we try to explain anything to anyone. They'll only believe that we're trying to cover up our supposed relationship."

"But … this is nonsense!" she exclaimed.

"Precisely, which is why we should treat it as such," he answered. "I doubt I will need to advise you to remain silent when people ask you questions, do I?"

"What do you mean? I can understand not automatically bringing up the subject but if someone asks me, wouldn't it be even more suspicious if I didn't answer at all?" Hermione asked.

"Granger, if you haven't noticed, any answer you give them will only feed the rumors that are being spread throughout the school and you can be assured that I will personally have another chat with you if that happens."

Hermione unconsciously took a step back from him. While others might just find it strange to see Tom Riddle in anger, she was more concerned for her own well-being; she would be more than dense if she didn't hear the underlying threat in his words.

A polite smile appeared on his face, but the coldness in his voice added a hint of cruelty to it.

"If you will please excuse me, I believe I've had enough of this nonsense for the day," he said.

She stared back at him, as if she was trying to redeem whatever was left of her reputation as a brave Gryffindor.

He narrowed his eyes at her momentarily, although she had no idea why. Fear gripped her heart when a question entered her mind, the same question that had been plaguing her since she realized that she had arrived in 1944—was he a Legilimens? Abruptly, she shifted her eyes until she was looking at his forehead instead of his eyes.

He raised an eyebrow at her, mockery further diminishing any last bits of civility before he turned around and left her in the middle of the hallway.

~-0-~

When Hermione entered the Potions classroom, she took a leaf out of Harry's book and stacked her books in front of her so she did not need to see Slughorn later during class. Draco's eyes slid from the stack of books over to her and he raised his eyebrow questioningly. Hermione looked at him helplessly which he returned with a confused expression, causing her to giggle softly to herself.

While she waited for class to start, she started to mentally compare Tom and Slughorn, trying to figure out who she hated more. By the time the future Dark Lord strode into the classroom, she still had not made up her mind.

Once class began, however, she quickly made up her mind that it was pretty obvious which of the two were more despicable, regardless of whether he had helped her out of a sticky situation or not.

"Ah, Hermione! I've received notice from the Headmaster that Mr. Evans won't be in class for a few days," Slughorn said rather cheerfully.

Hermione gave him a weak smile, which went unnoticed by him as he looked around the classroom. His eyes noticeably brightened when they landed on Tom.

"Tom, would you kindly be Hermione's partner while Mr. Evans is absent?"

The two of them stared at him while the other students whispered amongst themselves. Some of the girls turned around and sent glares towards Hermione.

What was Slughorn thinking? They sat on two different sides of the classroom! Now the whole class would think that they were really a couple. Hermione didn't know if she wanted to run back to the Gryffindor tower and hide or just dig a hole right in the dungeons and bury herself.

Tom's eyes were now cast towards the floor, so she could not guess what he was thinking.

"Yes, Professor," he replied a few seconds later. He picked up his books and walked over to the table where Hermione was sitting.

Slughorn then winked at her again. She gazed at the silver knife on her table, thinking that it would be more useful being stabbed into Slughorn's eyes than lying there on the table.

"Miss Granger, if you would kindly remove your bag," Tom requested, breaking her train of thought.

Hermione glanced at him, biting back a rather stupid question. With his influence over Slughorn, she did not see why he did not reject Slughorn's request.

She pulled her bag off the chair and momentarily lost focus when he elegantly slid into the chair beside her.

Captivating …

She mentally shuddered, blaming her mind for going off on its own course and promptly thinking of something else to stop those disturbing adjectives from entering her mind.

She assumed that Tom had tried to explain to Slughorn that they were not an item, but obviously the professor had refused to listen to him.

Hermione frowned, understanding that this could very well cause problems in the future. What annoyed her even more was that there was nothing she could do. If Tom could not convince the oversized Cupid, she doubted that she could.

"Who can tell me the properties of Mnemosyne's grass?" Slughorn asked after the class settled down rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

As if his question was the blast of a war horn, Tom and Hermione promptly switched over to battle mode. Both of their hands shot up in the air and a gleeful twinkle appeared in Slughorn's eyes as he gestured for Hermione to answer first.

Tom propped up his face with his hand, gazing at her with an attentive look in his eyes and his lips curving up into a seemingly amiable smile. Mentally slapping herself for forgetting her resolution to stop attracting his attention, she internally sighed before answering the question.

"While fairy tears can be used to reverse the effects of memory charms, Mnemosyne's grass can be used to retrieve memories. For example, if a person removes a memory from his or her mind, the herb can be used to restructure the memory," Hermione said, trying to pretend that the person sitting beside her was invisible. "As was mentioned in the last class, fairy tears have the negative side-effect of causing the person to lose his or her senses. Mnemosyne's grass, on the other hand, does not have a definite set of side-effects. Each person shows different symptoms when exposed to the herb."

"Excellent, Miss Granger! Five points to Gryffindor!" Slughorn exclaimed.

"I suppose you believe that Mnemosyne's grass should remain banned," Tom spoke up, his eyes now trained on the quill he was playing with in his hand.

Hermione observed him carefully, wondering if she was treading on dangerous waters if she retorted. Was he simply challenging her like he always did? Or did he have an ulterior motive?

He raised an eyebrow, the challenge obvious in his demeanor.

"Of course," she replied, determined to remain as civil and cool-headed as possible.

"Just like you've said, every person has a different reaction to the grass, which means that not every person will necessarily have a negative reaction," Tom continued.

She glanced at him askew, willing herself to not jump on the bait. Although his eyes were not on her, she had the strange feeling that he was monitoring her every move. She nibbled on her lower lip, trying to stop herself from speaking and ignoring the expectant glances from Slughorn. It was then that she noticed she was the focal point of the whole class's attention. Perhaps they had been alerted by her lack of response and her cheeks suddenly felt warmer than usual.

"If the Ministry could get answers to questions and perhaps discover important evidence, I don't see why it should be outlawed," Tom stated. "And if monitored correctly, I doubt it would fall into the wrong hands."

"Excellent points, Tom," Slughorn nodded. "Five points to Slytherin."

"If used in the right potions and processes, there is also the possibility that the memories of the dead can be retrieved using this herb," he said.

His attention was apparently not on Slughorn and it seemed he couldn't care less about what he was awarded. He was voicing his letter of challenge to her and as hard as she tried to deny it, it was tempting. She wanted to prove him wrong. She wanted to tell him how ridiculous and wrong his points were.

The class remained quiet, waiting for an answer from Hermione.

The cold courtesy on Hermione's face was rapidly melting into irritation. Her teeth sank deeper into the flesh of her bottom lip as she stared at him. He was still looking at the quill and his forefinger gently slid down the feather, reminding Hermione of how an owner would caress his pet.

Or how a predator calmed its prey before devouring it.

"From this, we can see that there's more to gain than lose by lifting the ban on Mnemosyne's grass."

He finally looked at her, lazy enjoyment at her discomfort written on every feature of his face.

"Shall I assume that you agree with my points, since you haven't raised any objections to what I have said?" he asked, the mocking undertone in his voice overly apparent.

A side of her brain urged her to remain quiet, claiming that it was the right and smart move. However, the derisive commentary coming from the other side of her mind was much louder. The mere idea of agreeing to what Tom said was simply unbearable.

He tilted his head to one side with a victorious glint in his eyes.

To hell with this. It's only an intellectual debate. And I've already answered a question at the beginning of class.

"No," she finally said quietly. "I do not see how that can be right. It's a complete violation of privacy."

She saw his eyes flicker for only a moment—was it approval?—but before she had a chance to say something that would end the conversation, he spoke again.

"If a person had nothing to hide, they wouldn't have tried to remove it from their memories," Tom said, leaning closer to her. "And that fact alone condemns them: they have secrets that they do not want people to know."

Hermione's mouth dropped open, shock etched on her face.

"That's absurd!" she protested. "It could be anything else. They could've chosen to remove that memory because it's too painful or too depressing for them to bear—"

"Then it wouldn't matter if it was reconstructed in their minds or not," Tom cut in.

"Of course it matters!" she objected, pushing herself forward in her chair. "Why should they be made to go through the same pain they've gone through once already? That, in itself, is inhumane."

"You're forgetting that we're talking about people who are possibly doing something that is less than desirable to the general population," Tom pointed out.

"They're only suspects!" she exclaimed.

"You're also forgetting that side-effects are only possibilities. There is a chance that they wouldn't get those side-effects."

"And we should risk their health to obtain information that might not even be relevant to what we're investigating?" Hermione asked. She shook her head again. "No, that's just wrong."

"Everything has its risks. We'll never advance in anything if we avoid taking any chances," Tom replied quietly.

"There are other ways to get information from someone, other ways that will not endanger them!" Hermione argued.

"Yes, of course there are other ways, but they are not nearly as effective as Mnemosyne's grass."

She snorted in disbelief. "Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? If we have no proof that these people are criminals, why should we use these herbs on them? It's just unfair and … well … wrong," she said.

"The point is, Miss Granger, that we cannot prove that they are necessarily innocent, either," Tom replied.

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. His ideas were wrong on so many levels, but she didn't know where to start.

Tom, on the other hand, was scrutinizing her through slightly narrowed eyes, as if he was trying to search for something in her face or mind—or perhaps, even her soul. At that moment, it almost seemed as if they were the only ones in the world. It was a verbal battle as well as a mental combat. The only thing that mattered to Hermione was to prove him wrong while he sifted through her words, expressions, and thoughts for the answers he was seeking.

"I—" she began to say but was interrupted by a light cough from Slughorn's direction.

It was then that she realized that in the heat of the argument, they had moved a bit too close to one another. Awkwardly, she turned around to face Slughorn, only to brush her knees against Tom's, making her feel even more uncomfortable in the situation she was in.

"Wonderful discussion, Hermione, Tom. As much as I would like to listen to the rest of your points, we should get started on the potion for today," the professor told them with an amiable smile.

He then went on to describe the effects and ingredients of the potion they were brewing for the class. Soon, half of the class was rushing over to the supply closet.

Surprisingly, Tom offered to get the ingredients. Later, when Hermione thought about this in retrospect, she figured that it must have been his way to maintain his polite façade.

While she prepared the star lily sap and Tom set up their cauldron, it suddenly occurred to her that it had never been like this in the future. For the first time, since the initial joy of knowing about Hogwarts, she felt her blood boiling with an unexplained excitement. She had never worked with someone in Potions class the way she was working with Tom. It was almost as if they were equals. It seemed almost ridiculous, being equal in status with Lord Voldemort, yet that was what she felt. She had never had intellectual debates with someone in the future; she had been dubbed the insufferable know-it-all, thanks to Snape.

Her eyes slid over Tom's hands which were now pulling the Sparkling Agile Flowers apart. She had never worked with someone like this. She had always been the one that was supposed to do the work. Harry and Ron … well, they never cared enough to help her if they didn't have to. However, with Tom, it was different. It was almost invigorating …

"Miss Granger, are you going to add the star lily sap?" Tom asked, disturbing her thoughts again.

She glanced at him abruptly before her eyes flickered over to the bubbling cauldron.

"Oh, sorry," she mumbled her apology, pouring the sap into the cauldron.

Focusing her attention on the instructions, she quickly chopped up the dried ginger. She reached out to drop it into the cauldron when she suddenly brushed her hand against something.

It was his hand.

Without warning, she felt her cheeks becoming warmer and she quickly pulled her hand back.

Tom, on the other hand, had an unreadable expression on his face as he stared at the place where they had made contact. She almost wished that he throw a snide comment at her, like the Draco in the past would have done.

However, this was Tom Riddle and not Draco Malfoy.

Seconds later, he dropped the ingredients he was preparing into the cauldron without saying a word.

Earth to Hermione. It's not the first time you've had contact with him.

Yet, something seemed different. Something in her mind and heart seemed to beat to a different rhythm with that brief contact. She couldn't name it. She didn't know what to name it, but she knew it was somehow different. She didn't understand it and she didn't know which book could tell her the answers, but she knew that she was thoroughly shaken by it.

For the rest of the class, Hermione spent most of the time avoiding contact with him again, although she hardly had to worry since he was doing the same thing.

By the end of the class, she was almost glad that she knew who he would become in the future. It was, after all, the only thing that stopped her from being hypnotized by the colors and motions of a deadly serpent.

~-0-~

She could easily deduce that the female population at Hogwarts did not like the rumors about her and Tom. Nevertheless, Hermione didn't have a clue how bad it was until Gareth and Joseph warned her about drinking from the goblets in the Great Hall.

"Those girls, you see the ones that are bunched together at the Ravenclaw table?" Joseph whispered, when she sat next to him the next morning.

She was more surprised to find Slytherins amongst the Ravenclaws than the fact that they were gathered together.

"They were swarming around this area before you came in."

Hermione frowned but took heed to his warning. His suspicions were proven true when Lilian Brown started coughing up beetles after drinking from one of the goblets. Hermione's eyes widened as the girl started to twitch on the floor and the professors rushed over to their table. They ended up levitating the girl to the Infirmary since no one was willing to touch her.

"Told you," Joseph said with a shudder. "I'd be careful if I were you. The girls who fancy Riddle can be quite scary sometimes, especially if they believe that you're winning his heart."

A disgusted expression appeared on Hermione's face which earned a round of laughter from Joseph.

However, she soon learned that "scary" was not the right adjective for the girls. "Terrifying" might be a better description. Everywhere she went, there were some type of booby trap waiting for her. Some of these traps made what happened to Lilian seem like some sort of infants' play. Although the professors attempted to stop these pranks, the culprits seemed to always find a way to secretly set up the ambushes.

The incident that caused a shiver to go down her spine happened when she was helping one of the professors. Hermione was passing by the Quidditch Pitch when Madam Frost (the current flying instructor) asked her to bring a couple of extra broomsticks for the first-years.

As Hermione opened the cupboard, she was suddenly pulled back as a jar crashed onto the floor where she had previously been standing. She turned around to thank her savior and was more than surprised to find that it was Tom who had saved her from a possible concussion.

"I was wondering who Melantha Parkinson was trying to attack with a jar full of potions," he mused, raising an eyebrow at the shattered jar.

"Melantha Parkinson?" she asked, looking at the liquid on the floor—or rather, a blob—and ignoring the little flip-flops that her stomach made on contact with him. The blob reminded Hermione of jelly, except that it was brownish-black. "And what is that?"

"Iris's younger sister and that," Tom answered nonchalantly as he released her from his hold, "is a mixture of Dark potions, ranging from Potion of Athena to Magalski's Brew."

Hermione shuddered involuntarily. She had read about them in Moste Potente Potions while she was brewing the Polyjuice Potion back in second year. Potion of Athena would make all the hair on her body transform into poisonous snakes while Magalski's Brew would cause severe damage to the internal organs without leaving a trace on the skin. She did not want to know what other potions might be in the blob.

"But why ..." she trailed off, staring at Tom in confusion.

"Melantha believes that you are the one who harmed her sister," he answered.

"But I was in the Infirmary at that time! It doesn't make any sense!" she protested.

"Never try to make sense of a woman who has her mind set on something," he stated softly.

Hermione frowned, wondering if he was trying to insinuate something.

An amused expression appeared on his face. "Her family knows quite a bit about the Dark Arts."

"I could've guessed that much," Hermione replied grimly, glancing at the blob on the floor. "Why would she think that it was me who harmed her sister?"

"Iris was harmed by powerful magic. Unless it was one of the teachers, it would have to be one of the more intelligent students," he explained.

"There are plenty of students who are intelligent," she pointed out.

His lips curved into a rather vicious smile, "Because you have a lot more ... history with her than the rest of us." He then conjured a bottle in his hand and flicked his wand towards the blob to levitate it into the bottle.

"History?" she asked, thoroughly confused again.

As if her bewilderment was his entertainment, he threw another smirk in her direction before leaving her alone in the hallway.

~-0-~

As Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room trying to finish her Astronomy homework, her mind drifted off to what Tom had told her in the hallways that day. She wondered if she should alert the professors about what had happened, although knowing the Slytherins, Melantha probably had some sort of excuse ready for them.

"Gareth!" she called out to the redhead who was playing pranks on two of the second years.

He looked up questioningly before approaching her with Joseph.

"What is it, Hermione?" he asked.

"Well ... you do know about the rumors in the school ..." she started to say slowly.

"He hears more gossip than most women," Joseph snickered.

Gareth elbowed him in the stomach as Hermione laughed.

"So what do you want to know? According to my sources, Tom doesn't have a girlfriend. Or girlfriends, if that's what you're worried about," he reported, winking at her in a way that strongly reminded her of Slughorn.

"Why would I care about how many girlfriends he has?" Hermione scrunched up her face as Joseph snorted.

"You really don't like him, do you?" he asked.

"Of course not," she shook her head. She bit her lower lip. "Are there any rumors about Iris and me?"

"Iris?" Gareth asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

Hermione nodded.

"As in Iris Parkinson?" Joseph questioned.

She nodded again.

He looked at her in shock. "You mean, you don't know?"

"Know … what?" she asked uncertainly.

"Well …" Joseph glanced at Gareth.

The latter sighed. "Some girls from Slytherin were giggling about it in the bathroom two days after you got those boils," Gareth replied.

"About what?" she inquired, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Gareth gave her a weak smile.

"She was responsible for the … er … rainbow boils. Iris was the one who added the potion to your pumpkin juice."

~-0-~

A/N: Thanks to my betas: Lildaani, Noybate, Hajnalmadar, and matterhorn.
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Somewhere in Time