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Somewhere in Time	By : serpentinred Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 64474 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Chapter 18

Hermione's resolution to stay away from Tom was soon shattered when she was reminded of the fact that she had a Slug Club party to attend soon. Slughorn made it clear that he was expecting her to attend it. Whom he expected her to go with was another question.

Tom, on the other hand, basically ignored Hermione. In fact, he even stopped criticizing her spell-casting skills. A part of her was quite relieved that she no longer had to put up with his interrogations. Another part of her, nevertheless, was rather irritated. The reason for the frustration, however, was something she would rather not mull over.

The fact that people were getting ready to go home for Christmas only added to her anxiety. Slughorn had probably scheduled the party some time before the holiday in order to incorporate as many of his star students as possible.

Of course, she was also quite worried about Draco. Although Hermione was envious of those who got to spend the holidays with their families, she hardly went home for Christmas after her first year at Hogwarts anyway. In contrast, Draco almost always went home. Thus, she tried to chat with him whenever possible in an attempt to cheer him up.

Harry, on the other hand, had not written to her since his last letter, causing her to become slightly annoyed with her best friend. The only comfort she got, the only thing that prevented her from Flooing directly to St. Mungo's was the belief that Dippet would have told her if anything had happened to Ginny.

On a good note, the girls (except for Augusta, of course) were slowly starting to treat her more amiably, which surprised her. In fact, two Ravenclaw girls had actually helped her the other day when her bag ripped apart and dropped all of her things on the floor. She wondered if it were because Tom had been particularly indifferent towards her or because she had not reacted to any of their taunts.

She finally decided that it more or less had to do with the fact that the students in the forties were much more appreciative of the snow and holidays than students back in the future. The female population in the school was especially giddy about "how romantic the snow was" and the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. The good spirit seemed to have missed Hermione, however, because by the Tuesday before Slughorn's party, she found herself becoming more snappish than usual.

The black cloud over her head probably served as a caution signal for Gareth and Joseph because they finally stopped teasing her about Tom. Nevertheless, they still contented themselves by whispering behind her back. That, unfortunately, also meant that Hermione always ended up being the last person to hear about rumors that were being spread around the school. In an attempt to console herself, she tried to think along the lines of: as long as the rumors did not involve her, it didn't matter, and she should just ignore it.

The next day, she found her situation even more puzzling. For once, the Slytherin girls had not even bothered to glare at her throughout the day, even in classes where Tom was sitting right next to her. As strange as the lioness found this, she did not comment on it. She worked with him with as much politeness as she could muster, though she was constantly reminded of how he was avoiding her like the plague.

And boy, did she want to stab him with her silver knife when she remembered that.

It was in the ladies' room after Potions that some of her questions were somewhat answered. She was in one of the stalls when a group of girls walked in.

"—bound to have ended one of these days. We were just being silly," one of the girls chattered.

"And there we were, believing that Tom would actually like that hag," a second girl giggled.

"Well, everyone thought it was true. He was too close to Granger for us to believe otherwise," the first girl said.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. Who were they calling a hag?

"But how did you know that the whole rumor was false?" another girl asked, accompanied by the sound of a faucet being turned on.

"Obviously, Olivia," the first girl drawled as the faucet was turned off. "Did you know that Iris returned from St. Mungo's last week?"

"She did? But she's not in class," Olivia replied.

"Well, that's the point. That's how we know that there's nothing between Tom and Granger," the first girl laughed as she walked into the stall right next to Hermione's. "You did notice that Tom has been ignoring Granger since last Friday, didn't you?"

"Of course! Although I must admit that I was a bit surprised. I thought he just got sick of her," a fourth girl remarked. "So you're saying that Tom's ignoring Granger because of Iris, Mildred?"

A look of realization dawned on Hermione's face; so the first girl was Parkinson's Ravenclaw cousin.

"Mm-hm," Mildred answered. "And Iris told me yesterday that Tom personally asked Dippet to allow her to rest for a couple of more days. You know how Dippet always listens to Tom."

"Ohhh," the rest of the girls chorused in envy.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Well, of course. The young man who was destined to become the darkest wizard in history had the dimwitted Headmaster wrapped around his fingers.

And a stupid darkest wizard in history at that. Why anyone would fancy someone as shallow and brainless as Iris escaped Hermione's perception, but she had at least thought that the almighty Lord Voldemort would be a little more intelligent than that.

"I would do anything to be in Iris's shoes right now," the second girl gushed.

"Who wouldn't, Betty?" Olivia sighed. "He's usually so polite to everyone, but for him to personally ask for a favor from Dippet?" Another round of sighs erupted from the girls.

For some reason, Hermione felt like wringing a certain Slytherin young man's neck at the moment.

Well … well, that's certainly wonderful. That means that I won't have to put up with him and he won't be bothering me any longer. He will be preoccupied and trying to placate that … that … cow, she thought furiously to herself.

"And do you want to know a secret?" Mildred asked in a mysterious kind of way.

Of course I do. Bring it on. Let's hear some juicy gossip about the famous Heir of Slytherin and his teenage years. Perhaps I'll get to laugh about it with Harry and Ginny when they come back, Hermione thought, rolling her hands up into fists.

"Iris told me that on the first day after she came back from St. Mungo's, Tom spent the whole entire day tutoring her on the things she had missed while she was gone," Mildred finished dramatically.

Another round of envious sighs were heard, but Hermione could hardly care about their reactions.

Well, yes. Many things can happen. Such as snogging, hugging, and more snogging. And Alphard actually thought that Riddle had no feelings towards that cow. That annoying, maniacal, sadistic, "I-need-better-hobbies-than-to-chase-after-and-kill-orphaned-kids" sociopath just spent an entire night in the stupid cow's room! I really should go taunt Alphard about his pathetic alertness about what is happening around—

"It's only tutoring though. Is that really all that happened?" the fourth girl asked suspiciously, breaking off Hermione's train of thoughts.

Her attention was immediately caught by the conversation again while the rest of the girls giggled.

"Come on, Wilma. Do we really have to spell it out for you?" Mildred sniggered suggestively, causing the rest of the girls to break out into laughter again.

Well, wonderful. That means that there's no need for me to actually worry about anything any longer. It's not like I really care about it anyway. Besides, it stops those stupid rumors from continuing. Great, she thought, gritting her teeth.

With that, Hermione pushed open the door of the stall and walked out, giving each and every girl in there a cold, hard look. The girls quieted down immediately to the point that one could almost hear a pin drop, until suddenly, Mildred snorted.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the famous Hermione Granger, our Head Boy's girlfriend," she sneered.

One of the girls giggled, perhaps feeling more at ease now that one of them had spoken.

Slowly, Hermione's eyesight slid over to the Ravenclaw, and her lips curved into a mocking smile.

"Is that jealousy I hear, Avery? Because that would be a bit too ridiculous. We all know that you fancy Riddle, but to the extent that you're even wishing to be his rumored girlfriend … now that's a bit pushing it," Hermione replied, her voice soft. Disregarding Mildred's angered face, she continued, "I would've suggested for you to go to a psychologist if you were Muggle-born or half-blood, but seeing that you're one of those hypocritical pure-bloods …" Hermione smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "If you want to be jealous, please do bother to do proper research and get your facts straight. I have a boyfriend already, and his name is not Tom Riddle."

Without waiting for a reply from Mildred, she walked out of the toilet and headed towards the Great Hall, her anger still not quite abated.

As she approached her destination, she saw Tom and his Knights walking towards the same place from the opposite direction. The aggravation inside her increased tenfold as she continued looking at the bane of her existence.

"No, it's not," she heard him answer a question to his Knights.

"But Tom—"

"Do I need to answer the same question twice?" Tom asked, very much annoyed.

With her unusually "good" luck, of course, she had to reach the doorway at the same time they did. Tom stopped, which also brought the rest of the group to a halt, and gestured for her to enter first, his face void of any emotions. Ignoring the leers from the other boys and with a stiff nod of thanks, she walked through the doors with her head held high.

Some of the students stopped chattering when she entered while a group of Slytherin girls started to giggle indiscreetly. Gareth and Joseph stared at her sympathetically and motioned for her to come over and sit with them.

That's certainly the last thing I need. Why would I need their sympathy? It's not as if I care about Tom Marvolo Riddle anyway.

Nevertheless, she still walked over to where the two Gryffindor young men were sitting and sat down rather harshly.

"Are you alright?" Gareth asked carefully as Galahad peeked over to see what was happening.

"Wonderful. Never better," Hermione replied a bit too cheerily and her voice shriller than usual.

"Er … well … great … um … have some corn," Joseph suggested, scooping some into her plate.

"Thanks, Joseph," she said, stabbing her fork into one of the chicken legs from the piles of food in front of her with more force than necessary.

The two Gryffindors exchanged a worried look with one another while Galahad turned around and openly stared at Tom.

At that moment, Dippet stood up from the staff table.

When the students finally fell silent, he announced, "As most of you might know, Miss Iris Parkinson was found hurt on the grounds a few weeks ago. You might be pleased to know that she has recovered fully—"

Hermione snorted, mildly alarming Gareth and Joseph.

"—and has returned to Hogwarts. She will be back in classes starting from tomorrow. Anyone who has any ideas about who might have caused the injuries to Miss Parkinson is encouraged to contact one of the professors or myself."

A wave of murmurs washed over the Great Hall as he sat back down. A couple of people actually stood up from their seats to take a better look at Hermione as if they were trying to see her reaction.

The unwelcomed attention made her feel as if she had just been Transfigured into some extraordinary creature. In retribution, she sent daggers towards Tom from the corner of her eye. Unfortunately, the purpose was defeated when she found that he was speaking casually to Cygnus Black.

Of course. He was not the one being laughed at. Hermione turned her eyes towards her plate and stabbed her fork into the chicken again.

She was only irritated because everyone was being sympathetic towards her for something she did not care about.

It was definitely not because of the supposed relationship between Tom Marvolo Riddle and Iris Parkinson.

~-0-~

On Thursday morning, Hermione woke up particularly early and went down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, hoping that she could miss most of the crowd. She still had no idea what they were going to do tomorrow, and the last thing she wanted to happen was to go to Slughorn's party with Tom Marvolo Riddle. Therefore, she wanted to ask him if he had managed to convince the Potions professor.

She released a breath of relief when she noticed a particular dark-haired young man—good thing he was an early bird, too. She did not fancy asking him in front of other people because being Hogwarts students, they would naturally distort everything that occurred in front of their eyes. At the same moment, he looked up and locked eyes with her. Quickly, she walked over to the Slytherin table, keeping her expression as neutral as possible, and pretended to look at the wall decorations, not noticing the fact that he had never taken his eyes off her.

When she reached where he was sitting, she greeted him, "Good morning."

He raised an eyebrow. "Good morning."

Hugging her books a bit closer, she opened her mouth. "I just wanted to know, what are we supposed to do tomorrow?"

He studied her expression for a few seconds before he turned away and took a drink out of his goblet. "I spoke with Slughorn last night. He still wishes for you to attend the party, even if we're not going together."

"Oh … sure. Thanks," Hermione replied, fighting vehemently against the sense of loss at the pit of her stomach.

"He expects you to bring someone with you," Tom added, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "Preferably, your boyfriend."

Hermione's eyes snapped over to him. "My boyfriend?"

"If he goes to Hogwarts," he explained.

The tip of his lips curved upwards into what appeared to be more of a sneer than a smile. She could only assume that it was because he thought that her boyfriend was a Muggle.

"Oh ... okay," she replied in a clipped tone of voice, annoyed at basically everything that had just happened.

She turned around and stalked towards the Gryffindor table. A frown appeared on her forehead as she attempted to talk herself into being cheerful.

No, I don't need to talk myself into being cheerful. I should be cheerful. I don't have to go to the Slug Club party with Lord Voldemort. What's a better reason than that to be cheerful? And honestly, who was he to judge, the hypocritical half-blood! It's none of his business what blood my boyfriend is, and for his information, Ron is as pure as they can get!

Yet, as the minutes slipped passed her, the ice-cold feeling of gloom continued to battle with the burning anger inside of her.

She didn't feel well. No, she definitely didn't. It was certainly not because she didn't have to go to the party with Tom. Perhaps she was just coming down with a cold …

A squeal from the Slytherin table caused her to look backwards, and she turned her head just in time to see Iris throwing her arms around Tom.

Rolling her eyes, she determinedly turned her back towards the pair.

Well, good. A hypocritical earthworm plus a self-centered cow, best pair in the world.

She sat down at the Gryffindor table, trying her best to control her temper. For some odd reason, she had a feeling that if she drew out her wand and hexed a certain Slytherin witch, she would feel much better.

"Are you alright?" a voice to her right alerted her. She turned her head and found herself looking into the concerned eyes of Gareth and Joseph.

"Of course," she replied, glancing back at the food she had unconsciously piled up on her plate. She then stabbed her fork into the waffles and stuffed it into her mouth.

"Er … you could talk to us, you know?" Gareth said hesitantly. "We are House-mates after all."

"Oh, I'm fine," she muttered. "I'm just coming down with a headache."

And the headache chose that moment to emit another round of giggles. Great.

"Are you sure you don't need to visit Madam Pomfrey? I think she has something for headaches," Joseph suggested.

"No, I'm fine," she repeated herself, her voice a bit more strained than usual. She took a deep breath when it suddenly occurred to her. "Joseph, are you free tomorrow night?"

As far as she knew, he was not part of the Slug Club.

He raised his eyebrows. "Yes, why?"

"Can you go to Slughorn's party with me? I don't have a date, and Harry's not here … and I don't really know anyone else well enough so that they won't think that I'm trying to flirt with them," she answered uncomfortably.

"Why aren't you going with Malloy?" Gareth asked, frowning.

She ogled at him, confused. "Why would I go with him?"

Mulling it over, she decided that Draco was perhaps the best choice, seeing that she did know him and he did offer a "handshake of friendship," so to speak. However, before she could tell Joseph to forget it, Gareth spoke up again.

"He's your boyfriend, isn't he?"

Hermione stared at him, taken aback, while Joseph sniggered.

"Apparently, they must have gotten into a row. He's taking Melantha Parkinson to old Sluggie's party tomorrow night," he said through his laughter.

"He's not my boyfriend," Hermione clarified.

Joseph nodded. "Okay, if you say so." The smirk on his face was more than telling, though, but he continued to talk, stopping her from explaining. "I'll go with you to Slughorn's party, but just a warning: if Malloy asks me, I'm telling him that you forced me."

"Joseph Potter!" she growled through gritted teeth.

"Come, come, Hermione. No need to hide things from us," he waved his hand in her direction as if she were a fly.

"He's not my boyfriend," she reiterated, her temper rising.

He shook his head and sighed exaggeratedly, obviously not believing a word she said. He piled some eggs onto his plate and scrutinized her for a few minutes. All the while, she glared at him, fuming.

"Think we can chance a trip down to Hogsmeade to get something for the party for her?" he asked, despite the dirty looks she was throwing at him.

Gareth grimaced. "And give Hogan an early Christmas present? No thanks, Joseph, but I'd rather not have him catch us sneaking out of school right before the holidays."

"Right," Joseph answered, a shiver running through him involuntarily. "Especially after the Monkey Warts we placed on his beloved plants."

His words spiked up Hermione's curiosity.

"Monkey Warts?" she asked. "Doesn't that make plants shrivel up into a sac of pus? And then squirt out the pus at whoever takes a closer look at it?"

"Spot on, my clever lady," Joseph grinned.

The image of Hogan the caretaker getting squirted with the greenish-yellow ooze caused her to laugh all too gleefully. Harry, Ginny, and she had somehow managed to earn the dislike of Hogan since the first day his eyes landed on them; therefore, he would follow them around the school in between classes and had, one day, threatened to hang them up by their noses and whip them if they caused trouble. That in itself was enough for Hermione to celebrate at his expense.

"Oh, you two really are a handful," she commented, all previous anger forgotten.

The two young men joined her and chuckled.

When she finally stopped, her eyes met with those of the Tom's across the hall. The coldness in them caught her off guard and froze her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she mentally chided herself for allowing a simple gaze to shake her. She quickly recovered and stared right back at him.

Their eyesights clashed in the middle of the Great Hall much like two spells colliding with one another in a wizard's duel. Her action caused something in Tom Marvolo Riddle's eyes to stir, and that "something" lured her in, drawing her into them. She was unable to pull away; those bottomless pits tempted her much like the way Eve's apple tempted Adam. They challenged her, threatening to drag her into the fires of Hell and never relinquish their hold until there was nothing left of her but ashes.

Yet, she still did not look away. Drawn to the dangers that were presented to her and accepting the wordless challenge, she refused to be the first one to back down.

The rest of the Great Hall slowly began to fill up as students filed in for breakfast, completely oblivious to the silent battle that was occurring right in the room.

But neither of them cared, absorbed only in their own thoughts and the competition for the upper hand.

Hermione had had enough with what was happening. And if his intentions were to make her fight back …

Then, he had succeeded, and she would be damned before she allowed him to be victorious.

~-0-~

A/N: Huge thanks to my betas: matterhorn, LSMerlot, and my sister! Many thanks to those of you who read, rated, and especially to Lady Miya for reviewing!
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Somewhere in Time