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

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who has taken the time to review. I really appreciate it. Review replies can be found here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/15639-review-replies/

And I know I'm taking some artistic liberties with the birthdates of several canon characters by placing them all in Tom Riddle's year, but I felt it was nicer to read about them than a couple of OC's instead.

Masters of Manipulation

Chapter two

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling slightly disorientated. She yawned and stretched her limbs as she viewed the room more thoroughly than last night. Her talk with Dumbledore had taken quite some time, even though he did not want to hear details of the future, at least not at first. So naturally she had gone straight to bed after their talk in the guest chambers. She had been really tired and had fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

So she was well rested this morning for the first time in a long time coming. Not sleeping in a tent helped and the fact that she no longer had the locket Horcrux in her vicinity might have been a factor also. Hermione realised it felt rather comforting to be back at Hogwarts. Despite the fact that she was in the past, it felt like returning home. Home, without any Death Eaters, well, that is to say without any mature Death Eaters.

It was inconvenient to put it mildly that she had to stumble right into the arms of Lord Voldemort upon arriving here. The ministerial degree on time travel clearly stated that the traveller should avoid being seen. She hoped that only applied for users of a Time-Turner, because otherwise she could be thrown into Azkaban for breaking The Magical Laws Act no. three. After receiving a Time-Turner in her third year, Professor McGonagall had given her strict guidelines on its use and a long speech about a man named Sparrow who was locked up in Azkaban for life, because his neighbour saw him cross the street years before they got to live next-door from each other. And her sighting was not a mere glimpse from an ignorant passer-by, who learnt nothing from her presence. No, she was seen by, and talked to, the two most powerful wizards of her time, Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort. Hermione was sure that alone was reason enough for the Ministry of Magic to have her rot away in jail for the remainder of her life.

She sighed. 'Of all the people in this school I have to run into him. Why… why… why?'

Hermione tried to recall everything she said in the conversation she had with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Most of it would be rather useless to Riddle, since she spent the majority of the time on being sick and the rest of it on arguing with him. She was exceptionally pleased about that. But she did mention Snape's name and she had informed Riddle he was at Hogwarts, all in combination with her possibly getting tortured and killed. Hermione could just hit herself over the head for that one. It definitely was her biggest blunder. If only she could take that one back.

However, it would be a long time coming before Riddle and Snape would finally meet, so she hoped that maybe Riddle would forget the details of her unfortunate slip up. After all, Snape would be a teacher at Hogwarts for several years, so his presence in the castle did not necessarily provide Riddle with the appropriate information. Only if he ever made the link between Hermione Evans and Hermione Granger, and if he recalled her fearful demeanour upon realising where she was, only then would Lord Voldemort have an incredible advantage over Dumbledore with regards to her former Potions Master. For a very brief moment she was satisfied with the excuses she found, but it didn't last long.

'Who are you kidding Hermione?' she told herself. 'Of course he is going to put two and two together. He is not as dim-witted as Crabbe for crying out loud.' She groaned loudly. 'I have to be more careful from now on.'

And she pondered on the conversation she had with Dumbledore. She told him that she was from sometime in the future and instead of Apparating to the location she had previously designated she had arrived here. He told her not to reveal anything and they came up with a cover story.

'Not too many real lies,' Dumbledore said.

So her background was to remain the same for the most part. They decided she previously went to Durmstrang, but that her parents had got wind of the Grindelwald threat and made her transfer to Hogwarts. She chose Durmstrang over Beauxbatons, because Victor had shown her pictures and had told her a lot about the school and its grounds, meaning she should be able to answer any questions correctly. Of course, she had also read The European Magical Education Guide from cover to cover, in which there were three whole chapters dedicated to Durmstrang alone. Hermione felt confident this was not going to be a problem, and as for the rest, well, she never was one to talk a lot about herself. Besides, other people nosing in her business did not worry her too much, although she did feel a little tickle of unease in her stomach at that concept.

After that the topic of her sudden appearance came back up. She described to Dumbledore the events that happened before and during the Apparition process, and when she arrived at the moment she had to let go of Harry's hand due to some unknown force, it came back to her. Eternity in Time ran through her mind and she slapped her hand at her mouth. She was so excited of having discovered the reason behind her predicament that she pulled the book out of her bag and flung it on the table. The warning in the letter about keeping it away from prying eyes was totally forgotten, until she saw the look on Dumbledore's face at the sight of Salazar's little masterwork. Hermione had never seen Dumbledore angry before, but she did not relish the sight.

'Who are you, young lady? And how did you obtain this…?' He stopped before finishing the sentence.

Hermione had the distinct feeling he withheld something from her on purpose there, and Harry's tirade came back to mind. 'Never the whole truth. The Dumbledore we thought we knew…'

'I already told you. I'm Hermione Granger. I'm from 1997, and this book was Owled to me by a friend.'

'A friend?' Dumbledore sounded sceptical.

Her face paled up and she was wringing her hands under the table subconsciously.

'Well, I actually don't know who send it,' she admitted whispering, and she bit her lip. 'But the letter was signed by someone who called him or herself an old friend. Why? Is something wrong with the book?' Hermione became frantic at the thought of having done something bad.

'No friend would Owl this book, unless…' Dumbledore looked at her thoughtfully, but after a moment of silence, he continued with a harsh tone in his voice. 'I am going to ask you a question, Miss Granger, and I want you to look me straight in the eye. Any sign of Occlumency and this conversation is over, and you can finish it with the Aurors. Do you understand?'

Perplexed, she looked at her former Headmaster and she merely nodded. She felt really small and it was like she, suddenly, developed an inability to speak.

'How well versed in the Dark Arts are you?'

'WHAT!' Hermione shouted and jumped up.

The chair toppled over due to her movement, and she stared at him with sincere outrage in her eyes. 'This is ridiculous,' Hermione thought furiously. 'I have never, ever wanted to hurt someone. Well… there had been Umbridge, of course, but she had it coming for hurting Harry and the others … or Marietta … and I did hit Malfoy, that nasty little ferret, and maybe I cursed Lavender for dating Ron, and Ron for dating Lavender, but really… it was nothing serious.'

More memories started flashing before her eyes. 'A troll attacking her, and Ron struck down by the queen…brewing Polyjuice Potion…a pair of big yellow eyes…a Dementor on the train… Harry falling… rescuing Sirius from the tower… Victor kissing her… Harry rocking Cedric's dead body… Hagrid showing them his brother…Harry clutching onto his scar… McGonagall getting struck by four stunners… Bellatrix mocking Harry… getting hit by Dolohov's curse… Snape running past her towards the Headmaster's office… the funeral… Obliviating her parents… sitting on the Thestral behind Kingsley and getting attacked by Voldemort… Magic is Might… the locket… Ron leaving… And there was the snake attacking Harry, and Voldemort looking at her, screaming in fury…'

Her thoughts scattered from one to the next, and she realised she wasn't the one going through them. 'A brown owl sitting on a parcel… the letter… dropping the book… Harry writing in it… Apparating underneath the invisibility cloak.'

With a jolt, it was over. Dumbledore was out of her mind and thoughts. She barely grabbed a hold of the table on time to prevent a fall, and she was sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Hermione noticed she could not stop her body from shaking like a leaf. Harry had complained many times about the lessons with Snape, but she had always cast his complaints aside and told him he needed to study. She wondered if this was how Harry felt every time Voldemort entered his mind. It was most unpleasant. An arm helped her up and directed her back into her chair.

'It appears I owe you an apology, Miss Granger,' Dumbledore said calmly.

He handed her a cup filled with hot chocolate milk. 'This will make you feel better.'

Hermione held onto the cup with both hands and took a sip. He was right. It did help and she took another sip.

'I am truly sorry for putting you through that, but I had to be sure. This book has been the cause of mayhem ever since its existence. The threat it possesses…' Dumbledore shook his head. 'But you do not seek it. Can you show me the letter that came with it?'

She set down her cup, picked up her bag and ruffled through it. Upon finding the desired letter, she handed it over and picked up her cup again to finish her drink. It was warming her up and that was a soothing feeling. Dumbledore furrowed his eyebrows upon reading the letter. He was finished with it at the same time she finished her cocoa. With a sigh, he gave her the letter back.

'Professor, do you know who could have send it to me and why?' she asked him.

He gave her a calculated look, and his eyes looked concerned before responding. 'The handwriting seems somewhat familiar, but I can't be sure. And I'm not going to speculate,' he added, holding up his hand when he noticed, she was about to interrupt him. 'As to why, I am even deeper in the dark.' He was eyeing her thoughtfully, but the twinkle in them had returned. 'I guess we just have to wait and see how things unfold.'

This explanation did not sit well with Hermione at all. 'But Sir, if it was not a friend…'

She bit her lip and some disturbing thoughts came to mind. 'A book written by Salazar Slytherin. Her arrival at Hogwarts in 1944, straight into the arms of a certain heir. Dumbledore recognising the script. Merlin. It couldn't be, could it? But why?'

She looked at Dumbledore and spoke up. 'This doesn't make sense. I'm a Mudblood. I stand for everything he despises. Why send me something that belonged to Great Salazar Slytherin?' She could not help saying the last three words with a healthy dose of sarcasm. 'What's wrong with this book? Is it cursed or something like that?' And she eyed the volume with utter distaste.

Dumbledore smiled at seeing the look of disgust on her face. 'No, it is not cursed. Though, some might claim otherwise, since history has shown that many owners died prematurely while trying to obtain the knowledge hidden inside. However, their deaths have always been explainable by normal accounts of getting killed out of greed. It is not necessary to curse an object if there are always others lying in wait to get their hands on it, as the letter warned you about.'

Hermione scoffed at the mere thought of Voldemort warning her about anything, but Dumbledore continued. 'The book is said to hold the knowledge to achieve eternity in time. Legend dictates that a worthy Slytherin will become the master of this.' And he tapped on the book. 'So, many have tried in the past and failed. Some say this myth was invented by Salazar Slytherin to boost his greatness and that all of it is utter nonsense. They say the book cannot be read, because it does not contain real knowledge, but … here you are, Miss Granger, here you are.' And on that note, he stood up and prepared to leave.

'Professor?' she asked and nodded her head towards the book.

'That is, I believe, your responsibility, Miss Granger. I have no doubt you need it to send you back to your own time, but make sure you remember this book is deemed illegal by today's standards and could get you sentenced to Azkaban in a heartbeat. So it's indeed best to keep it away from prying eyes. I will send someone over in the morning to show you around your new school. Shall we say at eight o'clock?' He winked at her, before he left.

Hermione could not help but wonder about yesterday's events as she was brushing her hair in front of a mirror that seemed to insist on making dry comments about the benefits of a haircut to her. She was almost ready when she heard the knock on the door. She checked the clock. It was ten minutes to eight. She made her way to the door with her hairbrush still in hand.

'I hope it's not Riddle,' she thought. 'Let's hope it's the Head Girl or some Prefect, anyone but him. I should have asked Professor Dumbledore to send someone else.'

And she opened the door. A slender girl with black hair in a ponytail was giving her a broad smile. 'Thank Godric, a Gryffindor,' Hermione thought relieved upon seeing the familiar House's colours.

'Hello, you must be Hermione Evans. Professor Dumbledore asked me to show you around and make you feel welcome.' The girl shook her hand and Hermione almost squeaked from the force of the handshake.

'Do you play Quidditch perhaps?' Hermione asked, while rubbing her now painful hand.

'Yes, I'm Captain of the Gryffindor team,' the girl said beaming. 'Do you play too? We could do with a better chaser. Augusta Longbottom is good, don't get me wrong, but she is no Potter.'

'No, sorry, I don't play. I'm afraid of heights.'

'Oh well, I guess it doesn't matter. You haven't been sorted, yet, anyway. I'm Minerva, by the way, Minerva McGonagall.'

After a while of complete silence, Minerva moved her hands across her face like she was trying to brush off some dirt. 'Do I have something on my face?' she finally asked at the staring and perplexed Hermione.

'No, no, you're fine,' Hermione muttered. 'I'll be right there. I… uh… I just have to comb my hair and grab my bag. Do come in.'

Quickly, Hermione disappeared back into the room and Minerva followed her in. Hermione was standing in front of the insulting mirror, combing her hair vigorously, while having a hard time keeping her face in check at seeing the teenage McGonagall, who was practically bouncing on her feet with excess energy. 'If only Ron was here to see this,' Hermione thought, amused.

They, first, went to The Great Hall to have breakfast, because Minerva was starving. And she was sure Hermione must be hungry too, which was a correct assumption. They sat down at the Gryffindor table, since it was Minerva's House and Hermione was having a great time. Minerva was a fast source of information concerning everything and everyone at Hogwarts. She was the Head Girl and therefore she had all kinds of juicy intell on the student body, which she shared with Hermione whenever someone passed by.

'That is Muriel Weasley. If you value peace and quietness avoid her, oh, and she loves to dig into people's secrets. So be warned,' Minerva said grinning. 'Ernest Lovegood, a bit of an odd one. Lucretia Black, she is alright for a Slytherin. The one with the sour face next to her is Walburga Black. You have my personal permission to hex her whenever you can, just make sure you don't get caught. Augusta! Over here!'

Minerva waved at what must be Neville's grandmother. Hermione felt it was a bit strange to see all these people in the prime of their life. And Minerva was sounding an awful lot like a female version of the Weasley twin. Something she had not been expecting at all from watching the stern professor in her days. Hermione stood up to shake Augusta's hand upon Minerva's introduction.

'Oh,' Minerva said with a slight tone of disgust. 'I believe you already met him.'

Hermione turned her head to see him was indeed Tom Riddle and she looked back at Minerva with equal disgust in her face. Minerva gave her a proud look. 'Ah, I think we're going to get along just nicely. At least you have better taste than Augusta over here. She thinks he is hot.'

Hermione looked in shock at Augusta, who turned red at Minerva's remark and mumbled something underneath her breath. Minerva laughed out loud at Hermione's appalled face and Augusta's embarrassment, but she stopped laughing after Augusta gave her an angry glare.

'Do you have to keep bringing that up, Minerva? It's not funny anymore.' Augusta stood up. 'It was nice to meet you, Hermione.' And she left.

'Ouch … I think I pissed her off. But I mean, really, it was funny, in a totally embarrassing kind of way, but still funny. And it is not like Augusta is the only one who made a fool of herself in front of Riddle. Lots of girls like him. I guess there is no account for taste. I would rather hop the Giant Squid than date that over there,' Minerva added cheerfully.

Hermione nearly choked on her pumpkin juice at the casual, happy way in which her stern professor made that remark, and for a second He-Who-Lost-Out-To-The-Creature-In-The-Lake was looking straight at her. Minerva tapped her on the back, all the while continuing the information stream, which did not improve Hermione's condition.

'Oh, look, brainless puppet alert,' Minerva said happily and she waved dismissively towards a group of Slytherin boys that entered the Hall.

Hermione let out a snort, suppressed her laughter in a napkin, mumbled something about needing a lavatory and ran for safety. Upon hearing the door of the booth fall close behind her, she roared with laughter.

'This is just too much information,' she thought, clutching onto her belly.

Hermione had heard stories about Tom Riddle's schooldays from Harry and what he had seen in the Pensieve. But those accounts were always laced with seriousness and determination to understand Lord Voldemort's past. They had to learn about the Horcruxes and other important stuff that happened, and it was never anything to be amused about.

'Harry should have talked to Professor McGonagall,' Hermione thought, while tears were running down her cheeks from laughter. 'He would have had a much better time that way.'

After she calmed down, she looked in the mirror and threw some water in her face to clear it up. She left the lavatory and was about to go back to the Great Hall when she heard a scared voice coming from around the corner.

'Please, I haven't had time yet. You'll have it tomorrow.'

'Really, Smith, I told you I need it tonight. I have to make sure it looks like my handwriting, don't I? You stupid, good for nothing, Hufflepuff.'

Hermione pulled out her wand and walked around the corner. She saw three individuals with the posture of Crabbe and Goyle surrounding what must be the Smith boy, because he was lying on the floor. One of them had his foot resting at the boy's neck, and all three of them had their wands ready. The one, who stood on top of Smith, raised his wand at him and shouted: 'Conjucta Inflaree!'

'Protego!' Hermione cast in reflex.

Hermione's Shield Charm flew across the corridor and engulfed the Hufflepuff just in a nick of time. The silvery shield blasted the Slytherin away from the Hufflepuff and said Slytherin crashed with a loud bang against the armoured knight, whose headpiece fell off and landed on the Slytherin's head. The curse, he cast, rebounded and hit the Crabbe look-a-like on the right. He began screaming for his mother upon feeling the pain the fire in his eyes was causing him. All this made the third Slytherin take one look at the situation, before he decided to make a run for it. He disappeared out of sight in what must have been a record time for someone his size.

'Coward,' Hermione thought.

She looked at the dishevelled Hufflepuff. 'Are you all right?' she asked him and held out her arm.

'Yes, I think so,' he replied timidly, standing up, while watching the pantomime in front of him.

The knight's headpiece appeared to be stuck at the Slytherin's head and he was now, unsuccessfully, trying to free himself from it. The only result was that his head got stuck even further into the thing and if the increased amount of groaning was any indication, it was a painful experience. Phoney Crabbe, on the other hand, was still dancing around, shouting and covering his eyes.

'Thanks for your help, but you really shouldn't have,' the Smith boy said weakly.

Hermione noticed Smith's eyes began to dart the corridor left and right. She raised her eyebrows at him when he began to back away from her. 'You really shouldn't have. He went to get help.' And the boy started to run.

'You're welcome!' Hermione shouted at his retreating back.

She shook her head. 'You're never going to be rid of bullies if you act like that,' she thought slightly irritated, before she turned her attention back to the two remaining Slytherins.

She raised her wand at the one she baptised as Crabbe, but Crabbe kept on moving. 'Stand still, you fool, I can't undo the curse and heal your eyes, if you keep jumping around,' Hermione said, annoyed.

However, she might have just as well talked to the wall for all the good it did her, because he kept on jumping and screaming. Hermione growled and flashed her wand. 'Stupefy.'

He landed on the floor face down. She cast the Healing Charm to lift the effects of the curse and continued with the Reviving Charm. After that she removed the knight's headpiece with a simple flick of her wand, and she was now eyeing the two idiots on the floor in righteous condemnation.

'Three against one, how very courageous of you all,' she lectured them firmly. 'And to think you might have been able to prevent all this nastiness from happening to you, if you actually would have done your own homework. Maybe then you would have realised it is not a good idea to stand on top of the one you're about to curse. Or maybe you would have used that one brain cell your father left you to duck the rebounding curse. But I probably shouldn't be surprised…'

From the corner of her eye she saw movement and she conjured her shield up just before the Severing Charm impacted on it. The blast cost her to lose her footing and she flew across the corridor, where she landed not so graciously on her behind.

'Shit,' Hermione thought when she recognised the person standing there.

Rodolphus Lestrange had his wand raised and was eyeing her with disgust. 'Who in Salazar's name do you think you are, attacking my fellow House mates?' he said menacingly.

She stumbled back onto her feet. 'At least he didn't bring Riddle along,' Hermione thought, relieved, when she noticed the Slytherin who previously vacated the scene standing beside Lestrange.

'Hermione Evans,' she answered with a small, mocking incline of her head.

She had no intention to back away from the likes of Lestrange, but a little voice inside her head said it might be wise to leave while one was still standing upright. A second hex flew in her direction, but she saw that one coming a mile away. She ducked, and with a flick of her wand, she hurtled Ginny's speciality back at him. The two to her right were suddenly moving.

'Protego!' Hermione thought.

Two curses rebounded of her shield and returned right back at their casters, who were, yet again, in severe agony from their own spell-casting. Noticing Lestrange was having severe problems with her Bat-Bogey Hex, she turned her attention to the two on the floor. 'And I just informed you both not to curse someone a mere inch away. Only those of us with actual magical reflexes can do that. I'd recommend rereading Goshawk's Standard Book of Spells grade 1, although I sincerely doubt it will do you any good,' she snapped at them.

Hermione looked at Lestrange, who was still battling his bogeys. It surprised her, but she wasn't going to complain about that. The other Slytherin had taken a run for it again, but this time Hermione wasn't going to linger. She felt it would be best to be elsewhere, preferably back in 1997, when Tom Riddle would arrive at the scene. No doubt the cowardly runaway Slytherin would tell the Head Boy his 'friend' Rodolphus was in trouble.

She quickly made her way back to the Great Hall when she ran into Minerva. 'What took you so long? I was afraid you drowned yourself in there like Myrtle used to do.'

'I ran into some lost puppets,' Hermione answered, shrugging.

Minerva frowned, but she laughed when Hermione grabbed her arm and said with a very devious look on her face: 'Any more attractions you've got here?'

'You wouldn't believe me.'

'Try me.'

'On your head it is.'

As the two Gryffindors walked past the doorway to the Great Hall and made their way to the staircase, Hermione saw Riddle exciting with Mister Runaway, as she named the coward who had left the scene twice. 'Puppeteer to the rescue,' Hermione whispered in Minerva's ear.

For a moment the Head Girl looked puzzled, but upon seeing Riddle she snorted. 'What did you do?' she asked Hermione excitedly.

'Nothing much, actually. They were very good in hurting themselves.'

Minerva laughed out loud. 'You're my new hero, woman.'

Hermione had a wonderful time with her old or rather younger Transfiguration Professor. They had wandered the corridors of Hogwarts without any sign of Tom Riddle to Hermione's relief, and after lunch they went outside to sit on the lawn nearby the lake, talking about all kinds of things: classes, career choices, family, and so on.

Hermione knew she was totally ignoring the Third Act of The Magical Law, but somehow she didn't care. After all, she had already broken it yesterday by getting seen, and she would have to interact with the entire Hogwarts student body and its professors soon. So talking would not be something she could avoid. And she felt reckless ever since she realised the predicament she was in. It was like the enormity of her problem weighted so heavily on her shoulders that she had to find an outlet for her nerves. And since her normal sensible routine did nothing to relieve her anxiety, she went overboard in the other direction.

Halfway through the day Professor Dumbledore approached the two giggling girls with a smile on his face. 'I thought you two might hit it off,' he said.

Hermione and Minerva just looked at each other and started chuckling again. 'Sorry, Professor,' Minerva hiccoughed, but Dumbledore waved the apologies away.

'It's always nice to know I can still bring a smile on young people's faces.'

They started giggling again.

'Miss Evans, I should inform you that you are expected at the Headmaster's office tonight at eight o'clock, so you can be sorted into your House. I've already taken care of all the other items of concern. Miss McGonagall knows the password and is, I am certain, more than happy to accompany you. Isn't that right Minerva?'

'Ye..ee..esss, P..p..p.. professor,' Minerva was coughing the words out.

'Very well, I'm glad that is all arranged then. I'll see you both tonight at eight.' And he strolled away. 'Wonderful day, isn't it, Mister Riddle?'

'Yes, it's really nice, Professor.' The restraint in Tom's voice was obvious.

'Nice, warm and sunny,' Dumbledore added, while passing the evil menace.

Hermione saw Tom roll his eyes to the sky at Dumbledore's back. She also noticed the club of Slytherins huddled around Tom, who was leaning against a tree reading a book. With a shock, she recognised one of them, though she did not know his name. He was one of the Death Eaters that had Apparated at Fleur and Bill's wedding and she had seen him cast a rather vicious Slicing Hex at the already injured George Weasley just before she had Apparated Harry, Ron and herself out of there. She felt an uncontrollable anger boil up inside of her. They were sitting right there, right within her grasp, and she could do nothing. It was frustrating her severely. She remembered the disgusting statue in the ministry; the persecution of the Muggle-borns, and everything else that group over there was responsible for.

'Do not disturb the time-line, Miss Granger. Terrible things happened to wizards who do.' The memory of the words vibrated in her ears, but she felt reckless all day after that encounter with Lestrange and, apparently, a bit of George's spirit did rub off on her after all those years of close contact with the twins.

'Where did I put it?' she mumbled tight-lipped and searched frantically through her bag.

'Is something wrong?' Minerva asked, concerned.

'AH! There you have it,' Hermione spoke triumphantly.

She pulled out a small box. It had an off-white colour with the exception of the three large, red W's that were visible on the top. Hermione opened it and pulled out a red ball that had the size of a snitch.

'Hermione?'

'No, nothing is wrong, not for us anyway. Vengeance is mine,' she hissed.

Minerva gave her a puzzled look. 'What are you planning?'

'Whatever happens, don't go near that group over there and don't make any attempts to help them. It will only make things worse.'

'Hermione?'

But Hermione had got on her feet already and strode back to the castle. Minerva watched her closely as she went, but she never saw what Hermione did and neither did the Slytherins, or at least, that's what Hermione assumed and hoped. Hermione grabbed the arm of a little boy that wanted to walk past her, and she practically forced him to move with her.

'Miss?' asked the boy, who was far too small to be a first year, and he gave her a rather scared look.

'Trust me,' Hermione whispered, 'you'll understand in five… four… three… two… one…'

And on Hermione's last count the ball from Fred and George exploded with a force that made the first year jump so high he reached eye-level with Hermione. She merely glanced over her shoulder to watch the Weasley Fireworks for a moment. Amused, she saw Riddle try an Extinguishing Charm, which resulted in the multiplication of everything in the air and she noticed the Death Eater, who she had aimed at, was lying flat on his back, totally covered with Fred's best sticky substance. Without the Weasley Removal Kit, which she wasn't planning on sharing, she doubted it would come off any time soon.

'They better build a tent around you. I've heard it's expected to rain this evening,' she thought, satisfied, before she went inside the castle.

But Hermione had a lot more up her sleeve than a bit of exploding fireworks. So with everybody paying attention to the show outside, it was the perfect time to accomplish the rest of her mischief. She, quickly, ran downstairs towards the dungeon's corridor where she knew the hidden door to the Slytherin Common Room was located. It was perfectly quiet. Nobody was around to witness the next homage to Fred and George. She picked a flask of strange looking grayish powder out of the WWW-box, opened the flask and threw its contents at the door, while whispering: 'Colloportus Totallus'.

She was curious whether it would work, since this was an enchanted doorway. Only she did not know the password, so there was no way to try and check. However, if it worked, she would find out soon enough. According to George, the shortest period he and Fred had timed the doors to remain closed was a week. The thought of the Slytherin Common Room being unavailable to anyone for a week brought a broad, content looking smile on Hermione's face. Figuring she had her Twin-Time well spent, she went to the library. She had to find some books on time travel after all.

An hour later she closed the last library book on the subject. It was totally useless. The only volume that might have been helpful wasn't written yet. And she did not feel like waiting twenty years before being able to return home. The library was deserted. She had heard screams coming from somewhere downstairs and she had a bit of an inkling as to why and where, so she was pretty sure people would be too busy to come to the library. Besides, she was sitting in an abandoned corridor anyway. Figuring it wasn't much of a risk she pulled out Eternity in Time and opened it again. Upon seeing the pages were no longer blank she got really excited. The answer to her problem would be in here. She just knew it, but after trying to read a couple of pages she slammed the book shut.

'Great, just great,' she mumbled and she silently cursed Salazar Slytherin from here to the moon and back again. 'Paranoid, prejudiced, overgrown, arrogant, delusional…'

She watched the cover in fury and dumped the book back in her bag. She was going to need a Parselmouth to read it, and whoever it was had to be fluent in Runes and English as well, because for some, no doubt, delightful reason, Salazar had made sure whoever read the text had to be able to understand all three languages bound together, otherwise none of it would make sense.

'Wonderful, just wonderful,' she muttered. 'Well, I could always try Apparating again. Who knows maybe I can meet some dinosaurs.'

The rest of the day she heard everyone chatter about the sealed door to the Slytherin Common Room. Minerva eyed her suspiciously when Hermione questioned her about what was going on, but the Head Girl was amused enough at the stunt to inform her that various things were being tried to unlock the door, but so far the professors had come up empty handed. Apparently, there were a couple of students in the Common Room when the door went shut, and Slughorn was making a big scene on how his students were locked inside. Hermione raised her shoulders at Minerva's last revelation.

'It's not like they're going to starve to death. The house-elves can get in and bring them food. They have beds to sleep on, couches to sit on, and toilets and bathrooms at their disposal. All they are going to miss might be a couple of lessons and from what I've seen so far teaching them is pointless anyway,' Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

'Miss lessons?' Minerva said, stunned. 'How long is that door going to remain locked?' she added, while they were on their way to the Headmaster's office for Hermione's sorting.

Hermione raised her shoulders again. 'We shall see,' she said uncaring and gave Minerva a wink.

'Head's Office,' Minerva told the gargoyle.

Hermione made a face at the unimaginative password as the gargoyle leaped aside to let them pass. She was going to meet the Headmaster and get sorted again. She felt it was an utter waste of her time. Dumbledore should have just made up some excuse and let her go to Gryffindor without going through all this nonsense. Upon knocking at the door, they heard voices coming from inside. Armando Dippet, apparently, wasn't alone in his office.

'Come in, come in…' a feeble voice spoke, and the door opened.

Hermione recognised the balding Dippet from the portrait that hang in the office during Dumbledore's days there.

'Ah, our new arrival. Settling in alright?' Dippet asked Hermione politely.

She merely nodded in response. She wasn't happy at the sight of Tom Riddle standing beside Dippet's desk. And Tom obviously wasn't too thrilled about something either, most likely something concerning fireworks and a door that would not open. He was tapping impatiently on the desk with his right hand, but Dippet appeared unwitting of that.

'Professor, it had to be done on purpose. First, there was this fireworks incident and now this.'

He was not looking at the Headmaster when he made his statement; instead he stared straight at Hermione. It made her rather uncomfortable and she was beginning to question her own sanity in her judgements earlier in the day. But it quickly became clear to Hermione Headmaster Dippet was very much unwilling to accept that it all had been foul play.

'Now, now, Tom,' Dippet said in a tone that came across somewhat patronising. 'It was just an unfortunate incident that coincided with an accident to the doorway at the same time. I'm sure someone just made a mistake with the password and the door's safety precautions must have overreacted. I have every confidence in the abilities of our teachers to fix the door and it will be ready again to let students pass in no time.'

Hermione did not believe her ears. How gullible was this man? Her startling expression at Dippet's stupidity got rewarded by a look of affirmation from Riddle, which confused her even more. 'Did he or did he not suspect her?' Hermione thought, quickly redirecting her attention towards Dippet, when she noticed Riddle was staring at her again.

The Headmaster beckoned them all to sit down, and Hermione noticed Tom was not moving at all. He remained standing where he was with a determined look on his face. Hermione was sure Dippet had not heard the last on the pranks she pulled from Tom.

Dippet, however, started to speak to Hermione and Minerva, while pretending Tom wasn't there at all. It did not take her long to realise this man wasn't simply dull, he was absolutely and utterly boring to the extreme. She noticed Minerva was slouching in her chair, and after a while, she could not suppress a yawn herself.

'Sorry, professor,' she said. 'It has been a long day.'

She saw the smirk on Tom's face, but Dippet failed to pick up on that completely.

'Of course, of course, my mistake,' said Dippet. 'I should have thought about your physical condition. Dumbledore told me all about it. You're obviously still weak from the ordeal you went through.'

Hermione barely restraint herself from rolling her eyes to the ceiling, but wondered if she had done it, whether the man would have noticed. He didn't seem to have a keen eye when it came down to observing and interpreting other people's behaviour.

'Well, I guess we should move on to get you sorted, so you can go up to your House's dormitories and get some rest. You can hear the other stuff some other time,' Dippet said, looking quite disappointed at not being able to continue his usual everlasting speech.

He explained the Sorting Hat procedure to Hermione and, eventually, Hermione sat on her chair with the Hat covered over her head.

The Hat spoke first. 'Hello again, Hermione Jean Granger,' it said. 'I see its Evans for now. So the former Gryffindor girl is back here. Need another sorting?'

'How can you know that?' Hermione asked, surprised. 'It has not happened yet.'

'I'm this school's Sorting Hat. I know all there is, all that was and all that will be. So where shall I put you?'

'Gryffindor, of course,' she answered immediately.

'Really? Are you sure? You're brave, no doubt about that, but you've got so much potential for another House and you have the unique opportunity to see what it's like to live there. No one else has ever been able to experience life at Hogwarts in two Houses, you know.'

The Sorting Hat's statement made Hermione think. It had made a valid and interesting point. Everybody saw Hogwarts only from their own House's perspective. She remembered the song the Hat had sung in her fifth year, giving people the warning not to divide the school. She had agreed with it, even though Harry and Ron were reluctant to inter-house's relationships. She also had been the one to push the idea of having Dumbledore's Army open to everybody, although in the end no Slytherin had joined them, but that was not from lack of trying on her part.

'See,' the Hat said, 'you're open-minded and smart enough to try something different. You have all the qualities of a loyal friend and you're definitely one of the smartest witches I've ever sorted. Both Helga and Rowena would be proud to welcome you in their respective Houses. However, I personally feel that you would be much better suited in Slytherin.'

'No way, out of the question,' Hermione told the Hat immediately. She felt being sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff was one thing, but she was not getting anywhere near Him.

'Ah yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle. He has a strong influence on the other inhabitants of Slytherin. He could do with someone who would, shall we say, balance his kind of thinking.'

'I don't belong in Slytherin,' Hermione stated firmly. 'I'm Muggle-born. Salazar Slytherin certainly would not be proud to welcome me in his House.'

The Sorting Hat fell silent for a second at her assumption. 'Yet, that same Salazar Slytherin has deemed you fit enough to handle his precious book of eternity and time,' the Hat said mildly. 'So I'm sorry, but I think he wouldn't mind. Shall we make it Slytherin then?'

'No!' Hermione said, panicking at the thought. 'And what do you mean Salazar Slytherin found me fit enough? It's not like he personally handed me the book, is it?'

'Well, it was your Muggle-born blood, that made the text appear, and your blood triggered the transport to this time-frame. And Salazar placed a lot of protections on that book, so not everyone would have got the result you had with it,' the Hat explained.

'My blood?' Hermione asked, stunned at the notion. 'Are you saying that if I used Harry's, I would not have been here?' She was rather shocked at hearing this news.

'Probably not,' the Hat replied.

'But how can that be? I thought Salazar was all about not excepting anyone who wasn't born into a wizarding family line.'

'He was, but I guess his own words are finally gaining up on him. Don't forget it has been an eternity since Salazar roamed this planet. It seems that the cruel irony of time has decided to catch up with Salazar as well. So Slytherin then?' the Hat asked persistently.

'But, but, but… I…' Hermione fell silent, because the Sorting Hat spoke up again.

'You have a lot of qualities Salazar liked to see in his handpicked students. You're ambitious, cunning, not to keen on keeping to the rules and you have some vicious tendencies as well.'

Hermione wanted to object to that statement, but the Hat interrupted her. 'Yes, you do, Miss Granger. That hex you put on Marrietta Edgecombe wasn't particularly nice. Especially since it was sort of a … permanent stain, wasn't it?' it said, amused.

'She had it coming. She betrayed professor Dumbledore and all of us to Umbridge,' Hermione said angrily.

'Yes, but having the word sneak plastered all over your face for the rest of your life is a rather extensive punishment, very Slytheresk I would say. And let's not forget your ability to…'

Hermione interrupted the Hat, before it could continue naming all of Hermione's other Slytherin capabilities. She felt she heard more than enough from that annoying Hat. 'I didn't just think that.' Hermione was shocked at her own thought. 'I didn't just refer to something that belonged to Godric Gryffindor as annoying.'

'Yes, you did,' said the Sorting Hat tauntingly.

It was that exact response that made her suspicious. 'Who is this?' she asked cautiously, after a short silence.

'Sorry?' The Hat said quietly, faking ignorance.

'You, who are you? You're not the Sorting Hat,' Hermione said certain.

'Bugger,' the voice replied. 'I hoped you wouldn't notice. I knew you were smart, I send you that letter after all, but it seems I still underestimate you, Miss Granger.'

'You!' Hermione growled. 'You send me that blasted book, you're the reason I'm stuck here. Damn you, Riddle, I hope that door never reopens.'

And she raised her hand to pull the Sorting Hat of her head, but it yelled at her. 'Wait! You've got it wrong! I'm not him! Wait! I'm Slytherin, Salazar Slytherin, and I need your help. Please, hear me out, Miss Granger, if you want to go to Gryffindor after we have spoken, then so be it, but please, hear what I have to say.'

Flabbergasted, Hermione remained underneath the Hat. 'Salazar Slytherin? But that's impossible.'

'Not when you have all eternity to spend your time in, Miss Granger. I daresay death makes one rather inventive to find other means to achieve one's goals.'

'How nice,' she said weakly. 'Glad that my time spend here, is helpful in some way. So why do you want a Mudblood to befoul the soils of your House?' Hermione remembered very clearly that it was him who stood at the origin of all the bigotry in the Wizarding World.

'I'm sorry that my beliefs got thrown out of context and proportion by some of today's fools, but you must understand back in my days we were severely persecuted by Muggles. Many of our kind got killed, before they could develop their abilities. And we were especially in danger from those people, whose families were not like us.'

'Nonsense,' Hermione stated. 'Are you trying to tell me you could not defend yourself against Muggles?'

'I could, but many were unable to do so. Come on, Miss Granger, surely you noticed not everybody is as skilled in magic as you are. And even some who were proficient enough still died if they got caught without their wand. Don't tell me you of all people underestimate a Muggle's ingenuity when they want to destroy what they fear or simply don't understand? I don't disapprove of a wizard merely based on their birth. I know a Muggle-born wizard can be as powerful or more than a pure-blood one. I was friends with Godric Gryffindor, after all. The living proof Muggle-borns were a force to recon. But I wanted safety for those wizards and witches we were responsible for. Many wizards and witches died, because Godric was too trusting, telling every Muggle parent their kid was magical. Believing all parents loved their own offspring enough not to harm them.' Salazar snorted. 'He really was an utter fool at times.'

Hermione heard the sadness in his voice and realised Salazar was actually being honest with her. She had never before heard Slytherin's reasons for wanting to keep magical teachings within all magical families. She had always assumed it was out of hatred towards Muggles, similar to Grindelwald's and Voldemort's reasoning. But this was not what she expected at all, not that she agreed with him, but she could understand it, and from the hurt in his voice she suspected a personal tragedy had taken place.

Salazar continued, noticing Hermione was not dismissing his story. 'I rather not discuss the past, if you don't mind, but I do need you to help me save Slytherin's House from annihilation. Riddle has way too much influence on everyone in my House and someone has to make the others see the light, so to speak.'

Hermione bit her lip. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts for six years now, firmly establishing his presence and authority. Surely, it would be impossible for her to undo all that in less than a year's time?

'Difficult yes, but not impossible. Time is relative and history has been changed by the mere presence of one before,' Salazar spoke, hearing her thoughts. 'I picked you for this task, Miss Granger. I know you can do this. You're the only one in all eternity who can, actually.'

Hermione did not hear the compliment, because she, suddenly, remembered. 'I'm not allowed!' she said frantically. 'I was told time is not to be tampered with. Bad things happen to people who do. And this most definitely would count as major tampering.'

'Pffftt… rules and regulations…,' Salazar said dismissively. 'Those restrictions were laid down by fools who do not understand what they are talking about. Trust me, Hermione, manipulating time is somewhat of my area of expertise. Feel free to read all about it. You do have my book after all.'

'Already tried that,' Hermione grumbled cross. 'But you had to be a freaking paranoia and make it impossible for me to read.'

'Well, there were some problems in the past with the knowledge falling into the hands of people who lacked the intelligence to use the book properly. It was quite a mess, actually, took me ages to clean up after them. And since we made the book indestructible, burning it was not an option.'

Hermione gasped at the unholy thought of burning a book, but she tuned back into Salazar's explanation quickly.

'So we decided to decode and hide it instead. I encrypted it and asked Godric to hide it, so I would not be tempted to use it myself again. However, Godric did not do a good enough job of hiding it. I have to say I was somewhat disappointed in him after Eternity in Time resurfaced two decades after our deaths. Fortunately, no one has been able to use the book up until today. Not even that fool of an heir of mine had the time to activate its powers, too busy killing people, becoming immortal and getting beaten by babies. Tsk… tsk… tsk.'

'Voldemort had the book? But I thought you said you send it to me?' Hermione asked, frowning.

'Well, I'm sort of dead, Miss Granger. So technically I can't send anything, but I can be very persuasive if I need to be,' Salazar stated, chuckling.

Hermione got a bit worried about this turn of events.

'Oh, don't worry, dear, he doesn't remember. You should have seen the look on his face when he noticed the book was gone; priceless. Besides, I had to intervene, he was planning on using the book to control Time itself. I could not let that happen. The results would have been disastrous.'

Hermione could imagine, but still, she was not happy of having to hold onto something Voldemort would undoubtedly consider his rightful possession. Especially now she knew he was tricked in sending it to her. He was clever. He would find out.

'Never worry about the future, but live in the present,' Salazar stated cheerful upon hearing her thoughts.

'I was living in the present, until you sent me here. How am I going to get home?'

'Use the book.'

The statement was rewarded with a growl from Hermione.

'You're a resourceful witch. I'm sure you'll find a way to obtain the knowledge within. Now, will you help me save my House from falling, and with it, countless lives in the process?'

Hermione wasn't sure. Not sure she would be able to achieve the wanted outcome, not sure she would not make things worse, not sure it was a bad thing for Slytherin House to vanish, and not sure her tampering would even be for the greater good. She felt a slight discomfort at remembering that was Grindelwald's slogan. Everything was done 'For the greater good'. If she did this, wouldn't she be like them? Shaping the world as she saw fit, deciding for others their current reality wasn't good enough. And this meant entirely that she had to live next-door to Lord Voldemort, while she would be undermining his endeavours. It was a crazy idea. It was suicide by proxy.

'Come on, Miss Granger, only a true Gryffindor would be brave enough to undertake this assignment and roam the House of a real rival,' Salazar cunningly said.

'And only a true Slytherin would be slippery enough to try to manipulate me in such a manner.'

'Glad I could live up to standards,' Salazar said smugly. 'So I guess it will be Gryffindor after all?' Hermione heard the utter disappointment in his assumption.

It was too difficult to choose. She needed Harry and Ron to talk to, to pick their brain. She just wasn't sure what the right thing to do was anymore. Whatever decision she made, she could still screw up everything. Both choices beheld dangers and chances. She felt like flipping a coin, that way, if things turned out disastrous, she could blame fate.

Hermione sighed. She made her decision. 'Very well, you win. I pick Slytherin. Let's see how long it takes me to end up dead in one of the castle's corridors.'

'I'm sure you're cunning enough to make it through alive, dear,' Salazar said, before he shouted 'Slytherin' through the Headmaster's office.

'Though, you will have to bunk out in the Great Hall for now, since you sealed up my Common Room,' he added and she heard him chuckle out of irony.

She removed the Sorting Hat from her head and saw two completely astonished faces staring back at her. Both McGonagall and Riddle seemed like they could not believe their ears at the fact that she was sorted into Slytherin. Hermione noticed Albus Dumbledore had somehow also made his way into the room. She wondered exactly how long it had taken her to get sorted, since she hadn't seen him arrive at all and he had taken a seat in the far-end-corner of the office. Dumbledore, unlike her future classmates, did not look surprised or upset over her sorting. He gave her a big smile, which she repaid.

'Well,' said Dippet, and he scratched his throat, while looking nervously at Dumbledore to see how the Transfiguration Professor took the news of this new girl being sorted into his rival House. Headmaster Dippet had read the Durmstrang Record of the girl supplied to him by Dumbledore yesterday evening and it was clear she was exceptionally bright. Her grades were high and he could easily see her graduating second of her class this year, even if the Durmstrang curriculum was slightly less advanced than Hogwarts. And with her also in Slytherin, the race for the House Cup was done, over, ran, and finished.

'Horace will be pleased, even if Albus isn't,' Dippet thought, reassuring himself that the world did not fall apart merely because things did not go Albus's way.

He mistook Dumbledore's silence for disapproval. Dippet thought Dumbledore was biased towards the Slytherins, since he always tried to stop him from giving more tasks and responsibilities to Tom Riddle. He remembered how Dumbledore even opposed the decision to make him Head Boy. Really, like he could get away with overlooking the smartest student that ever walked this school. It would probably be a good thing for Albus to see another talented student in Slytherin, maybe that would warm him up towards them a bit. Yes, maybe it's for the best she's in Slytherin. This was the final thought that ran through Dippet's mind on this issue and he was rather pleased with himself at his own brilliant conclusion. Nevertheless, he suddenly felt the urge to make Miss Evans leave his office quickly, before Dumbledore would speak and ruin everything.

'Well, I guess you can take her down to the Slytherin dormitories, Tom, and fill her in on House rules and regulations.'

Riddle looked like he desperately had to count to ten at Dippet's dumbfounded remark. A flash of irritation ran visibly over his face, before it returned to his calm, blank expression.

'Have the Professors already been able to open the door, Sir?' Tom asked, a slight hint of sarcasm creeping through the otherwise polite tone.

The sarcasm was directed at Dippet, but he expected Dumbledore to respond to the question, because he looked in his direction awaiting the answer, and his assumption was proven right.

'No, I am afraid not, Tom,' Dumbledore responded. 'We're not quite certain what caused the problem, but it seems it is going to take a while longer to fix the issue at hand.'

'Shall I escort Miss Evans back to the guest chambers then?' Tom asked. 'I'm sure she would be more comfortable there, instead of sleeping in the Great Hall with a bunch of strangers.'

'Splendid idea and very considerate of you, Mister Riddle,' Dippet said, positively beaming at Tom.

Hermione was not so good at restraining her emotions as Riddle and she rolled her eyes at the thought of Lord Voldemort being deemed considerate. Minerva snorted and Dippet looked confused in their direction for a moment.

'Unless Miss Evans does not want to take advantage of the offer?' Dippet asked, confused.

Hermione thought quickly. It was tempting to accept, but on the other hand, she had a task to perform and isolating oneself was not the best way to achieve her goals.

'What is good enough for everybody else is good enough for me. The Great Hall will be fine, Sir,' Hermione answered diplomatically, because she did not want to upset the Headmaster on her first encounter with him.

From the corner of her eyes she saw Riddle stare at her again, an unreadable expression on his face. 'Perhaps it also was not such a good idea to upset him either,' she thought, but somehow it seemed that every time they met Hermione had this innate reflex to oppose and irritate him. 'This reaction is so going to blow up in my face some day,' she noted.

'Okay, if you don't mind sleeping there, I guess Tom can introduce you to your fellow Housemates in the Great Hall straight away. And maybe you can make the young lady somewhat familiar with the great traditions of Slytherin,' said Dippet, nodding approvingly to Tom.

Slytherin House-traditions, Hermione did not feel the need at all to get acquainted with Lord Voldemort's ideas on what those were supposed to be.

'Certainly Sir,' Tom said politely.

'Good, then it is goodbye for now.'

Dippet gave them a small, dismissive wave and started a conversation with Dumbledore. Tom moved to the door and held it open, so Minerva and Hermione could pass.

'Ladies first,' he said, acting like the ever so polite and humble one. He looked back at Dippet questionably for a second, but followed the girls down the revolving staircase.

Hermione was planning to ditch Tom Riddle upon vacating the Headmaster's Office. But her idea immediately got spoilt when Slytherin's heir neatly manoeuvred Minerva into leaving them alone. And Hermione realised she might as well get this over and done with. She was beginning to regret listening to Salazar Slytherin more and more with the passage of time. At first, their walk down was quiet. Hermione did not feel the need to start a conversation to entertain Riddle and he, apparently, was also not in a talkative mood. However, she was quite pleased upon remembering the shocked look on his face when he realised she would be in his House. She had not thought something would rattle him that easily and found it quite funny. She wondered how long the fun would last though.

'That was,' Riddle started to say, 'rather...'

'Unexpected,' Hermione finished, while giving him an amused look.

He frowned at her finishing his sentence.

'Yeah,' she continued, because she mistook his silence for being on the right track. 'It's not like I could misjudge that appalled look on your face after you heard I was to be in Slytherin. I'm sorry I disgust you that much,' she sneered at him and quickened her pace to pass him, but he grabbed her by the arm and stopped her from walking by.

'What!' Hermione snapped, and she yanked her arm back.

Their bags smashed to the floor at the sudden, violent movement, but they were eyeing each other angrily, so neither of them was looking at the bags or noticed the contents that got spilt from them. Two volumes had left their confined security and were now lying side by side as if, somehow, a mysterious force had drawn them towards each other.

'Look here, Evans,' Riddle threatened, emphasising on her last name in a scornful tone that reflected his disbelief of its legitimacy. 'Do not presume to know what I'm thinking. I was merely … surprised at the Sorting Hat's decision. And I think considering the busy day you've been having, it is not an outcome you were expecting in advance either.'

Her face flushed red and she shifted uncomfortably, redirecting her weight to her right leg.

'Surely, he was only referring to her encounter this morning with Lestrange and company. He couldn't know she sealed the door, could he?' Hermione thought anxiously, and her eyes began to dart the corridor.

It appeared unhealthily empty. Riddle also came to that conclusion, and with a smirk on his face, he leaned in towards her and said softly: 'the duelling, the fireworks, the door … anything else you like to add, Miss Evans?'

Hermione's reddened face underwent an immediate transformation. She felt the blood rush from her brain after his statement and her face turned utterly pale. Subconsciously, she bit her lip.

Riddle started laughing. 'Pathetic Evans, Salazar better help those whose secrets you're trying to keep. I must say I find this Sorting's outcome incredibly convenient. I think…'

But he stopped talking mid-sentence and there was a sudden, distinctive change in his mood. It went from amusement to surprise to curiosity and he was staring at the floor when it happened. Hermione followed his stare, only to experience a set of mood changes of her own at seeing the two books on the floor, a green-silver and a red-golden volume. The book Hermione had not seen before was written by Godric Gryffindor and was titled Infinity in Space.

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Masters of Manipulation