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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.

Chapter List
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Chapter 17

Ignoring Tom was surprisingly easy for Hermione Granger. It did not take too long for her to discover, however, that it was probably because he was also trying to avoid her. Her first detention had been the only detention she had completed up to date. He constantly seemed to be "too busy to oversee her detention." In fact, other than the classes, she hardly saw or spoke to him. Even while they worked together in classes, he would keep the conversation level to a minimum.

Of course, much to Hermione's annoyance, he was still highly critical of her spell-casting abilities. He never failed to offer his opinion when she did something during Defense class. Even though she was quite aggravated by what he was doing, she still had to admit that her skills significantly improved under his scrutiny. Additionally, she was quite thankful that he was no longer hexing her for fun.

However, his avoidance of her soon presented a problem: the Slughorn party was next Friday, and she still did not know if Tom had spoken to Slughorn or not.

That Wednesday, she was determined to ask him when she would serve her next detention. However, he swept out of the Potions classroom before she had the chance to open her mouth, leaving her standing alone and staring after him.

Slughorn patted her shoulder gently in comfort. "You must excuse him, dear. Being an excellent student yourself, you must understand the pressure that comes with the burden of schoolwork."

"Schoolwork?" she asked.

"Tom didn't tell you? He has a Divination project due after the vacation, so most likely, he will be preoccupied until then."

Not much of a surprise, Hermione thought, mentally snorting to his words.

Apparently, Lord Voldemort never grew out of his obsession with superstitions, did he? Then again, he never got rid of his infatuation with immortality, either, but honestly, how difficult was it to finish aDivination project?

Suddenly, Slughorn looped his arm around her shoulder as she resisted rolling her eyes and asked her in a low voice, "My dear, did you get into an argument with Tom?"

"Um …" Hermione started, not really knowing how to answer his question.

Slughorn, however, interpreted it the way he wanted to and sighed.

"I understand how hard it is, but you have to remember, Hermione, the two of you have to learn how to work things out together! You can't have squabbles like this for the rest of your life!" he exclaimed. "I know that both of you are quite stubborn, but in a relationship, you have to compromise sometimes. Being in a relationship means that you have to compromise."

"Professor …" Hermione said weakly, a frown settling on her forehead.

"That Tom! I will have to remind him about being a gentleman! Even though the two of you are an item, you're still the lady!" Slughorn continued.

She stared at him, horrified.

"No, no, no!" she protested. "Professor, it's alright! I'll sort it out with him. It's no big deal! You don't have to worry about it!"

"No, it's best that I talk to him about it. Don't worry, Hermione. Everything will be fine," Slughorn insisted as he pushed her out of the classroom.

"Pr-Professor!"

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," he smiled before shutting the door in her face.

~-0-~

The next morning, Hermione seriously considered taking a day off from her classes. She tried talking to Slughorn to stop him from "chatting" with Tom. However, he merely smiled mysteriously at her. There were no doubts in her mind that Slughorn had decided to talk to Tom regardless of what she told him.

Therefore, this particular morning, the Gryffindor Tower just seemed so much safer than other places in the castle. Nevertheless, after minutes of internal struggling and skipping breakfast altogether, she found herself walking towards the Charms class.

As Hermione walked to the classroom, she noticed a couple of Slytherin young men huddling together at the corner with most of the young ladies who frequently jeered at her. Usually, the girls would be inside the classroom, preparing a "welcoming speech" for her. This sudden change of routine somehow made Hermione uncomfortable. On top of that, Joseph and Gareth were nowhere in sight. Her stomach churned when she noticed the worried look on Draco's face. Sadly, there was nothing either one of them could do.

Way to go, Hermione Jean Granger. It seems like you've just pissed off Lord Voldemort, she thought sarcastically.

Bracing herself for the worst and reminding herself that she had Gryffindor values to uphold, she walked into the empty classroom and sat down in her seat cautiously. Although she knew it was quite useless, she piled her textbooks on the table, attempting to form some sort of barricade behind which she could hide. No sooner had she finished building her miniature wall did a shadow loom directly over her. Two palms were placed soundlessly but firmly on either side of her textbook blockade.

She gulped, mentally telling herself or perhaps praying that everything would be alright. She gazed slowly and fearfully at the young man who was looking at her, cold fury etched on every feature of his face. No matter how much she prepared herself for it, it did not work.

"What, did you tell Slughorn?" Tom's voice was only slightly higher than a whisper, yet it frightened her even more than screaming or yelling.

"I … I …" she stuttered, her eyes flickering between him and the door.

She wondered if she could manage to run out of the classroom. Remembering the events from a few nights ago, it was obvious that that was not a possibility since he apparently ran faster than she did.

Damn him for having longer legs.

A humorless smile appeared on his face. "Did you actually find it funny, hilarious for Slughorn to instruct me on how to treat girls?"

"I … I didn't mean … to do that …" she squeaked.

"Haven't you figured out what sort of person he is by now? Did you need to be reminded how meddlesome he could be? Or did you find the rumors particularly entertaining?"

"I didn't … do it on purpose," she replied quickly, slowly moving her chair away from him.

However, that feat in itself was difficult; she could hardly control her body from shaking in fear. There was no guarantee in regards to what he might do to her. She highly doubted that most of the people standing outside would come to her rescue if she screamed.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned towards her. "I'm starting to believe that you actually enjoy these rumors."

Hermione stilled for a moment until what he said fully sank into her mind.

"Wh-what?" she sputtered, completely thrown off by his words. "This is ridiculous—you think that I fancy you? What—I—"

Despite it being the most inappropriate moment in the world, she could feel her heartbeat steadily increasing and her cheeks slightly warming due to his implications.

Unfortunately, she did not have cauldrons to blame anymore.

How could she have these reactions towards Tom Riddle? She would have to find a Muggle psychologist when she got back to the future. There was obviously something very, very wrong with her if she was blushing when the darkest wizard in history was near her.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look straight into his eyes.

"Are these expressions simply acts to catch my attention?" he asked in a low voice which stopped what she was thinking and sent shivers down her spine.

As much as her conscious attempted to kick in, her mind dutifully went blank.

Granger, you have Ron already. Get a hold of yourself.

Nevertheless, it was not working. Her concentration was certainly not on trying to pry her face away from his fingers. It was focused on more important things—such as noticing how he had flawless skin, which could not be said for every young man his age. The paleness of his skin would have looked sickly on someone else, but for some reason, it worked with his features. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed together as if he were deep in thought. As usual, his eyes were unreadable and even more so due to the shadow of his hair cast upon his face. She suddenly had the urge to run her hands through his hair to see if it were as soft as it looked.

Wavy, but not as messy as Harry's …

Harry's face flashed through her mind, and she suddenly felt as if someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water on her. Memories of the many times Harry had almost got killed by the future Voldemort flooded her mind. The image of Ginny lying on the infirmary bed acted like a knife, slashing through her sinful thoughts. The idea of betraying Harry wrapped around her neck like a noose, nearly suffocating her.

She turned her head sharply away from him. Her heart beat furiously, pounding against her chest as if it were trying to punish itself for what she had nearly fallen prey to.

"Whatever your purposes are, Miss Granger, I do not wish for something like this to happen again. Do you understand?" he asked quietly.

Hermione did not answer him, her eyes focused on the wall to her right instead of on him. Fear flooded her heart, although she was certain that Tom Marvolo Riddle was not the cause of it. Her heart somehow acknowledged something before she was prepared for it. Even though her clever mind knew the answer, she refused to believe it.

She wanted—she needed to return to the future.

"Granger," he hissed, bringing her out of her thoughts.

The dangerous undertone of his voice caused her to look at him. Apparently, the future Dark Lord was not very accustomed to being ignored. She was about to run for cover when the door opened and Professor Fireswish walked into the classroom. She was about to mentally thank him until he asked them to follow him into the hallways.

Once outside, the professor immediately closed the door and turned around to look at them. Hermione allowed herself to use that time to calm herself down and mentally chat with herself.

There are absolutely no reasons to fall for him out of all people. Honestly … Of course, he's extremely charming and intelligent, and those intellectual debates with him are quite entertaining and exciting … not to mention how he doesn't feel that it's a waste of time to read books … but everyone knows that his humbleness is just an act. And those aren't very good reasons for me out of all people to be attracted to him … Of course! I must be hallucinating … imagining these feelings …

She was brought out of her thoughts by Fireswish's voice.

"I've heard about what happened, Tom, Hermione," he said in a low voice. "Young love is so fragile, so delicate, and sweet. There are so many obstacles when you're walking down the road of love, but I'm sure you're going to work it out. Both of you are so intelligent! Just remember the emotions that you've shared with one another, the passion."

Hermione blinked.

Honestly, what are these professors thinking?

The professors in the future would hardly care about what happened between students who were couples, yet the professors in the forties seemed a bit overenthusiastic about the supposed "passion" between Tom and her.

"It's probably harder to listen to what Professor Slughorn tells you, Tom, since he's almost like a father to you," Fireswish continued to say. "Therefore, he wished for me to chat with you a bit about your argument with Hermione."

He shot her a fatherly smile before looking back at the Slytherin.

"It might be hard to listen to one another when you're arguing, but perhaps the two of you should've stopped when the argument got out of hand and waited for the anger to go away before discussing it. Often, it's hard to bring across a point when you're immersed in anger."

She was about to say something until she noticed the warning glares Tom was sending towards her.

"We're slowly sorting it out, Professor," Tom said, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Excellent!" Fireswish exclaimed. He then observed the two of them for a few seconds before saying, "Perhaps the two of you should talk about it during this period? I'm sure you can catch up with the work later on. I wouldn't want you to be distracted from class due to personal reasons. I would be more than happy to excuse you for the day."

"If that will be alright with you, Professor," Tom replied, his eyes cast downwards once again.

Hermione immediately shook her head. "No, Professor. I'm … I'm afraid … that I … I might not catch up in class."

"Nonsense." Fireswish waved her protest away. "You're an excellent student, Hermione. And I'm sure Tom will be more than happy to assist you should any problem arise." He then turned his head back towards Tom who had a humble expression on his face once more. "Isn't that so, Tom?"

"Of course," Tom replied, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"There's a classroom down the hallway. Perhaps you could talk with Hermione in there?"

"Thank you," Tom answered, gratitude appearing on his face and making Hermione marvel at his excellent acting skills again.

Fireswish smiled brightly at them and walked into the Charms classroom. Hermione was about to follow him when Tom grabbed her arm. She grimaced and nearly yelped from the force he was exerting on it. Without letting go, he dragged her down the hallway into the classroom the Charms professor had pointed out for them.

Hermione stared at the walls and wondered if anyone would hear her should he cast the Cruciatus on her. Just as that thought went through her mind, Tom flicked his wand towards the walls, doors, and windows, wordlessly casting a spell. He then swirled around and slowly walked towards her.

He stopped approximately six inches away and stared at her quietly as if he were trying to memorize every detail. She glanced nervously to both sides, although she knew that it would be impossible for her escape. He had not bothered to light the candles in the room, so she could only vaguely tell what he was doing at the moment. His eyes, however, were oddly bright.

"What are your intentions?"

Again, Hermione wondered if he were talking to himself or asking her. Nevertheless, she chose to remain silent until she could get a grasp of what he had planned for her.

He circled around her until he was standing behind her. She made a move to turn around, but he immediately placed his hand on her shoulder, forbidding her to move.

"I'll ask you for the last time, Hermione, what are your intentions?" he demanded, venom dripping from his voice when he said her name and causing her heart to run cold.

She cautiously took a deep breath before she answered, "I have no idea what you're talking about—"

He turned her around until she was facing him. "Those suspicious glances, pretenses of kindness … Do you take me for a fool?"

"I … Why would I think like that? I ..." Hermione asked. He suddenly grabbed her chin, stopping her questions.

Her eyes hardened, slightly angered by his apparent constant need in frightening and controlling her.

"In addition to how frightened Miss Weatherby is of me," he hissed, a look of cunning flashing through his eyes so quickly that it escaped Hermione's attention.

Mentioning Ginny fueled the tiny flame of fury that had begun to grow in her heart. His words seemed like a challenge. It was almost as if he were daring her to fight back.

"You're thinking too much," she replied coldly, resisting the urge to pull out her wand and start throwing random hexes at him. "She was merely frightened by the overenthusiastic attention you were giving her."

He chuckled in such a relaxed way that Hermione's mind started racing: had she unintentionally given something away?

Suddenly, he moved closer to her until his lips were nearly touching her ear.

"As the Head Boy of Hogwarts, I was simply trying to make sure that she felt comfortable here," he said in a low voice, his breath brushing against her neck.

It was too intimate, so much that Hermione wanted to run out of the classroom and hide in her dorm. However, she doubted that Tom would allow her to do that.

"I'm sure," she answered shakily, trying to ignore the tingling feelings that were running up and down her spine.

"Do I frighten you, Hermione?" he asked, his hand leaving her chin and coming to a rest on her shoulder while he moved slightly backwards so he was looking at her face again.

She remained silent, not fully sure of how she should answer the question. Minutes slipped by, and neither of them opened their mouths.

"Whatever should I do with you, Hermione?" he whispered as his finger slid down her cheek.

Her mind chose that moment to recall the gruesome details members of the Order had told her about the people who had fallen into the hands of Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort himself. As if that in itself were not terrifying enough somehow, she started imagining herself in the place of the victims.

Her brain's creativity stopped when his finger ran across her jaw line. It was now focused on how her skin tingled where he touched her. She involuntarily shivered, causing him to laugh gently. Definitely the wrong reactions at the wrong time. However, she could hardly help it when she began feeling the same anticipation she had felt that night when she was cornered by him in the Potions classroom.

At that moment, the classroom door flew open. Alphard stood at the doorway, staring at the two of them. Hermione immediately scrambled away from Tom as a tinge of red appeared on her cheeks.

"May I speak with you for a moment, Hermione?" Alphard asked after he gave Tom a nod as a greeting.

Hermione's eyes momentarily drifted over to Tom before she nodded swiftly.

Hopefully, she could clear her head a bit by talking with Alphard.

~-0-~

As the seconds passed, Hermione could feel her discomfort building. The way that Alphard was studying her was not helping at all. They were standing in the middle of another classroom, and she wished that he would speak already.

"What … were you going to talk to me about?" she asked, carefully monitoring the changes of his expression.

She was still quite embarrassed by the fact that Alphard had walked in on her and Tom. It could easily appear as if they were kissing, although nothing had really happened. The thoughts that were running through her mind, however, were hardly any less intimate.

Alphard stayed silent for a few more minutes before he finally replied, "I was worried about you when you didn't come back into the Charms classroom, but now … I thought you said that you weren't his girlfriend."

"I'm not," she immediately answered.

"Didn't seem so back there," he remarked, nodding his head in the direction of the other classroom. "In fact, it almost seems as if the two of you are in a very close relationship."

"Alphard … you're thinking too much," Hermione said, averting her eyes from him. Her face slowly turned to a shade that was quite similar to Ginny's hair color.

"Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and suspicion dripping from his question.

"Well … you saw what happened yesterday in Defense class, didn't you?"

"Yes … but I'm having doubts now … Forgive me for saying this, Hermione, but perhaps you're not thinking at all. He's … well, I thought you knew what kind of a person Tom Riddle is …"

"I know what kind of a person he is," Hermione said softly, shame adding to her discomfort.

She bit her lower lip, knowing that she should stay as far away from Tom as she could, but it just didn't seem possible with the situation she was in.

"It doesn't seem so from the way you're interacting with him."

"I didn't try to catch his attention or spend time with him," she protested. "It just … happened. I never asked to have detention as his assistant, but Slughorn …"

"I know, Hermione," Alphard cut in, "but if I'm not mistaken, I'd say that you fancy Riddle, though you might not know it. Or let's put it this way—again, excuse me if you feel offended by my words—I really think that you've already noticed that you're attracted to Riddle, but you just don't want to admit it."

~-0-~

Hermione came to a stop at the wall beside the staircase, panting from her anger and from stomping across half of Hogwarts. She glared at a set of armor directly across from her, pretending that it was Alphard or Tom Marvolo Riddle. The suit of armor promptly turned its head to the side, trying to pretend that it had not seen her.

She turned her head and her eyes landed on the portrait of the Fat Lady. She probably should not go back to the Gryffindor common room yet; she was quite sure that Gareth and Joseph would have some "intelligent" remarks to make about her "escapade" with Tom.

She covered her face with her hands, letting her back fall against the wall behind her.

It was impossible. She could not have fallen in love with Lord Voldemort. He was just tossing her around the room a few days ago, and she was pretty sure she was not a masochist. How could she fall in love with someone who would become the epitome of evil? How could she fall in love with someone who wanted to kill Harry? How could she fall in love with someone who she knew was eventually going to be vanquished by one of her best friends?

Ron. What about Ron?

A frown settled on her face at the fact that her boyfriend was not the first person she thought about. Ron was supposed to be important to her. He should have been the first person who came to her mind. What was wrong with her?

She groaned and closed her eyes, wishing that Dumbledore would come back soon. She was confused. She needed guidance. She wanted guidance. She felt as if she were thrown into a cave with an unknown predator running after her, and she had no idea where she should run. It frightened her.

When she opened her eyes again, she found Draco standing in front of her, looking carefully at her. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she had not heard his approach.

"Are you alright?" he asked carefully.

Instead of answering, she sighed and closed her eyes. He sat down on the stairs next to her. Silence circled around them, yet for the first time, it was not uncomfortable. She opened her eyes again and found that Draco was busy studying his nails, although Hermione suspected that he was waiting for her to speak first.

"I'm alright," she finally answered softly.

He heaved a sigh—was it out of relief?—and asked, "Did he hurt you?"

She slowly shook her head. Draco raised an eyebrow at her, perhaps befuddled by the frown that had not quite left her face yet. When she did not satisfy his curiosity, he sighed again and leaned backwards, attempting to make himself comfortable on the stairs.

"What happened between the two of you?" he asked.

She nibbled her lower lip, not really quite sure where she should begin.

"Well ... you do know about what happened between him and Slughorn, right?"

A smirk graced his features. "Other than being blind and deaf, I don't think there's any other way I could possibly miss it."

"The problem is," Hermione said, the frown on her forehead deepening, "he thought that I did it on purpose."

Draco snorted, which earned a dirty look from Hermione. He coughed lightly, covering his mouth with his hand to hide the remainder of the smile on his face.

"Well, I could hardly blame him. He doesn't know about the relationship between you and Weasel King," he drawled after he removed his hand and smile, earning another annoyed look. In response, he smirked again.

Silence fell over them again as she contemplated if she should tell Draco about what Alphard had said. Before she could come to a conclusion, however, he spoke again.

"You should try to avoid attracting his attention. Whatever he says or does, just try to go along with it. He'd lose interest in you after a while. If you can, try and pretend to be one of those giggling girls around him," he suggested.

"The pretense won't even last a day," she said, rolling her eyes.

Draco sniggered. "I'd love to see that though. 'Oh, Tom! I can't stir the potion! Can you please, please, please hold my hand and teach me how to?'" he performed dramatically with a peculiarly good imitation of Hermione's voice.

She narrowed her eyes at him as he chuckled, but she could not stop the small smile from appearing on her face.

They fell quiet again, immersed in their own thoughts. A frown had found its way onto Draco's forehead, too, although Hermione had no idea what he was thinking about. She figured that he would probably have many issues of his own, being in the same House as Tom and everything.

"I'll figure something out," she sighed.

Draco nodded his head in agreement.

Hermione studied his face for a short moment before saying, "I don't know if I should really ask you these questions …"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't know either, since you haven't asked them yet."

A blush appeared on her cheeks. "It's because I don't know if I'm prying into your personal affairs."

A look of understanding dawned on his face.

"I figured that you would ask me one of these days," Draco said, amused. "I was wondering when, but I doubt this," he gestured toward the environment around them, "is the best place to discuss it."

"Right," she nodded before she pushed herself away from the wall. "We might as well go back to class."

Draco stood up from his seat and patted away the dust that had attached onto his robes while he was sitting down.

"Hey!" he called out after she had taken a few steps forward.

She turned around and looked at him questioningly. An uncomfortable look appeared on his face, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"I just wanted to say … well, if we're comrades now … and since Potty and Weaselette aren't exactly here right now, you … if you need someone to talk to … you could come and look for me."

A grin blossomed on her face. "Thanks."

If possible, Draco looked even more uncomfortable.

~-0-~

A/N: Thanks to matterhorn, LSMerlot, and my sister for beta-ing! Many thanks to those of you who read and rated, and to Nerys and Lady Miya for reviewing.
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Somewhere in Time