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Don't Get Left Behind	By : Shan84 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 10201 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series nor any of the characters from the books/movies. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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Author Note: Sorry readers, here is chapter two! I am not sure about these tech glitches as I clearly recall loading it :-/

PART TWO

He had just left his flat, his breath fogging out in front of him in the cold morning air. He had left earlier than normal to sort some items out in the shop before it opened, as several ‘important’ customers were coming in that day. He also had to go see that vile Hepzibah Smith today … Borgin was intent on Tom persuading her to sell some of her antiques. It would be a busy day, but Borgin had promised him a tidy bonus if he managed to get the woman to sell them the items at a cheap price. Tom was confident he would succeed.

He pushed his way through the usual Diagon Alley crowd - those heading to work, getting breakfast, and shopping, and made his way towards Knockturn Alley. He was imagining that a strong coffee might be good for him when he saw it … or more aptly, her. Tom couldn’t help but do a double-take when he saw the familiar brown curls spilling out from the hooded winter cloak just a few feet ahead of him. No, it couldn’t be … could it?

He continued to follow the girl, who was ducking and weaving through the crowd, heading towards Knockturn Alley, of all places. While he hadn’t seen her for a couple of years, he was certain it was her. She still had that determined walk that he remembered so well from her short time at Hogwarts. When she briefly glanced to her side, causing Tom to quickly drop back, he managed to catch her profile, which confirmed all of his suspicions. What was Hermione Edwards doing here? And why was she heading into Knockturn Alley?

He continued following her, not feeling like too much of a stalker -- he did work in this part of town, after all -- as she continued down her path. He noticed that she began to speed her steps up, all the while briefly glancing around. Could she sense that he was following her? Clever girl, he thought. Though, he wasn’t surprised.

He found his heart rate increasing as fast as her steps were. He was closing in, and when he finally caught her, there would be nowhere for her to run. He would not let her get away this time. He increased his pace as she continued increasing hers. It was quite obvious that he was chasing her, and she was well-aware of it. No one in Knockturn Alley paid them any heed. Tom knew that no one would dare to confront him, or wish to get involved in anything that may bring the Ministry down on them.

But before he could reach out and grab her, she spun around in a swirl of black winter cloak, her wand drawn. Tom sucked in a breath as he took in her familiar features. She had noticeably matured since he had last seen her; her face had thinned out more with maturity, her hair was longer and more riotous (if possible) than ever, and her dark eyes held a serious weight that you never saw in someone so young.

They both stood there silently regarding one-another, Knockturn Alley seemed to still around them.

“Riddle,” she finally muttered.

Tom merely nodded his head in some kind of belated greeting, his fingers running down his wand which was concealed in the pocket of his robes.

“Quite a greeting,” he finally said, and nodded towards her wand, which was still aimed at him.

“How’s that new wand working out for you?” he asked, reminding her that she had never retrieved her wand from him after he had taken it from her in that dark corridor in Hogwarts … which had seemed like an age ago.

“Forgive me if I don’t trust you,” she replied. “But I think we’re past social pleasantries, wouldn’t you say?”

Tom shrugged. “That depends on how you want to play this, Hermione. Now, you’re going to drop your wand, and we’ll talk. You don’t want to risk the ire of the locals around her. They don’t take too kindly to respectable looking witches pulling wands in their alley.”

Hermione briefly glanced around them, finally noticing the discreet figures of those watching them from the shadows. “Oh, they don’t need to worry, I’ll be on my way.”

Before Tom had even finished shouting ‘Expelliarmus’, she had already Disapparated with a swift pop, leaving Tom standing alone … again.

XXX

He’d never forgotten her, though that wasn’t to say that she was the centre of his world. Tom had continued with his carefully made plans; Hermione Edwards becoming nothing more than a memory. A frustrating memory, but one that popped up on quite a regular basis, mind you.

So when he was sitting in one of the oldest magical libraries in Greece, and heard a familiar tinkle of laughter, he knew that once again fate had dealt him a chance in finding out Hermione Edward’s secrets.

Quickly following the source of the noise, he found refuge behind one of the many shelves as he watched the girl who had managed to escape Lord Voldemort too many times. He watched as she threw her head back and laughed at something the plain young librarian who sat behind the front desk had said.

He noted as he studied her that she must have been in Greece, or the Mediterranean, for some time. Her skin was now a light brown; the freckles on her nose having become more pronounced, and she dressed in the traditional flowing greek wizarding garb. His gaze fell on her hair, which hung in a loose ponytail halfway down her back, with streaks of gold and copper running through it from sun exposure. A small smirk curved his lips as he looked at the small leather tie which seemed to be fighting a losing battle in controlling her riotous hair.

He watched as she handed the books she had been holding onto back to the librarian and shook her head when the librarian asked her a question. Tom wished he could get closer to hear what they were saying, but any closer and there was a risk that she would notice him.

She took a quill and wrote something down, and then handed it to the librarian after several moments, who gave her a friendly nod before Hermione gave a small wave and left. Tom waited several minutes before he made his move.

Approaching the desk, he put on his most charming smile when the girl noticed him. He knew this would be all too easy when the girl blushed at his attention.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted, careful to note that they library was luckily almost deserted.

“Hello,” the girl replied, her voice a high squeak when she made eye contact with him. “How can I help you?”

“Imperio,” he muttered, and smirked as he watched her eyes glaze over.

XXX

After he Imperioed and then memory modified the librarian, it wasn’t hard to find her. She had given the librarian her address so a series of books could be directly Owled to her. He found her just on the outskirts of town, in what was obviously a holiday-style home.

Even though the rumours around the Hogwarts suggested that she had returned to her own family, Tom could tell that she wasn’t with her own. He discreetly watched her for days with the British magical family, and could tell by the way they interacted that she didn’t know them too well. She spent a lot of time with the children, tutoring them. Tom could admit that she was a brilliant teacher. Infinite patience and a voracious desire for knowledge meant that the children were a captive audience. He ignored the small voice that mocked him for the exact same thing.

He watched her for a week before he decided to do anything ... getting to know her movements, her comings and goings. After a week, when she had left with the children to go on what looked like a trip to the beach, Tom decided to strike.

She was staying in extension to the property, which was located around the back. Tom was sure that if the property were owned by Muggles, it would be the servant accomodation. As he made his way to the back entrance of the property, where he would be able to enter her rooms unnoticed, he couldn’t help but notice the Wards surrounding the entrance way. These were much stronger than those that the family had erected.

Hermione Edwards obviously didn’t want anyone unwanted in her flat.

What a pity Tom was a master of getting into places most people normally couldn’t enter.The Wards were strong, and he was annoyed to find it took him longer than expected, but when the door finally opened with a soft click, Tom smirked at another silent fight that he’d won against the girl who had evaded him for so long now.

He finally stepped into the room and looked around. It was too neat and simple looking, and from what he had gleaned from Hermione Edwards, if he truly wanted what he was looking for, it wouldn’t be simply found on the bookshelf. Softly closing and locking the door, Tom walked into room and smirked.

XXX

When she returned that evening, Tom was already sitting and waiting for her, surrounded by sheets and more sheets of parchment that he had discovered under a warded floorboard after hours of searching.

He leaned back comfortably in the arm chair, having turned and faced it towards the door, and smirked as she realised her front entrance was unlocked. The door slowly opened and she stepped through it, eyes darting around and wand raised defensively. The light spilling in from outside framed her, and in her Greek robes, Tom couldn’t help the thought of how powerful she looked in that moment. When her eyes finally met his, he watched as she immediately stiffened and he twirled his wand between his fingers nonchalantly, eyeing her with amusement.

“I was wondering when you would get home,” he said instead of a greeting.

She was quiet, standing stock still, mouth pressed into a thin line and obviously not sure what to say.

“You know, I always knew you were hiding something,” Tom continued their one-sided conversation in a light voice. “But time travel? Not even I suspected that.” He raised a mocking eyebrow at her. “But I did know that there was always … something about you, Hermione Edwards.” He twirled his wand, staring at her. “Although, is it really Hermione Edwards?”

“As if I would tell you,” she finally replied, lifting her chin defiantly.

In a smooth movement, Tom stood from the chair and walked over to her. A wicked grin appeared when he saw a slight tremble in her wand hand as he got closer to her.

“And why wouldn’t you?” he asked. “You don’t have Dumbledore to protect you … nor the Ministry, it seems. Twelve months in St Mungos after their botched attempt to get you ‘home’?” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “I always thought they were incompetent.”

She remained deathly silent, not responding to his taunts. Tom stepped right up next to her and used his wand to push her wild hair away from her ear.

“I could help you,” he murmured in her ear, his dark eyes following the line of her neck and bare shoulder as she shivered at his proximity. “I could help you. Hermione Edwards if you tell me … what you know.”

It was silent, until a strained, but mocking laugh, bubbled from her lips. “You? Help me? I will never tell you what I know,” she spat.

The hand not holding his wand travelled up her arm, over her shoulder, and gripped her neck. Stepping around to face her, he smirked down at her, before looking at the wand she had pointed at his chest.

“Go on,” he antagonised. “Hurt me.” His dark eyes met hers in a war of wills. “But I can guarantee you, that if you even try to not cooperate that the lovely little family you’ve been staying with might find themselves in a … spot of trouble.”

Her eyes widened at the implication, but only slightly. “You’re a monster,” she whispered.

Tom stared at her, remaining expressionless. “Perhaps … but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

She swallowed heavily, but said nothing.

“Drop your wand,” he ordered.

She remained still, and he could tell that she was having an internal war with herself on what she should do. He decided a little more incentive was needed.

“Drop your wand, or I will make you watch what I do to that family before I take care of you,” he said.

She bit down on her lower lip and shut her eyes tightly as her grip loosened and the wand fell to the ground between them, making a loud clattering noise against the hardwood floor.

“There’s a good girl,” he crooned mockingly, before quickly summoning it and placing it in his back pocket.

Her eyes watered, but no tears sprang forth. In that moment, Tom found himself intrigued by her for so many different reasons. He brought his wand up to her face and traced it faintly down her cheek, before bringing it back up and pointing it at her temple.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to find out my own way,” he murmured, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Legilimens!”

Immediately he found himself tunnelling through her mind; flashes of colours, memories, and emotions hitting him full force. She tried to resist, but Tom had been mastering the art of Legilimency since his last year of Hogwarts. She was a gifted witch, but she wasn’t a master of this particular form of magic.

She finally sagged against him, the force of his invasion finally proving to be too much. That was when he was able to finally latch onto one memory that caught his eye. It was Hermione, and she looked about twelve, and was laughing with two young boys in Hogwarts uniform. It was time to start there …

XXX

He felt like he had been sifting through her memories for hours, but he knew it hadn’t been that long, her mind would simply not have been able to sustain it.

He finally slipped out of it. He didn’t need to see anything more. There were too many emotions to take in at once. She knew almost everything about him … and he would be defeated … he would … No. No. Tom held Hermione tightly as she slumped against him, passed out in exhaustion. He looked down at her, her head lolled back, eyes shut as if asleep and delicate pink mouth slightly open. His eyes travelled down to her milky white neck as one of his hands travelled upwards until he lightly ran his fingertips along the soft skin of her throat. His fingers softly squeezed her neck. All it would take was one, tight squeeze and it would be over … and she would be gone and he would be on his chosen path again.

But it wouldn’t be like that, would it? She would still be born decades into the future, even if he did kill her now, and even if Tom chose a slightly different path, who was sure if that prophecy would still be made or not?

He absentmindedly picked the young woman up in his arms and laid her down on the small single bed in her room. He looked down at her, studying her unguarded features, and knew that even if he chose a different path in his quest for power, the fabric of time could be potentially unforgiving.

His mind moving a million miles an hour, he looked from Hermione to her paperwork … perhaps there was a way to change all of that, he wondered, his gaze resting on the work that would ensure that the girl would return to her own time.

His thoughts were interrupted when Hermione let out a raspy moan and twisted in the bed. Tom’s gaze moved back to the witch below him and watched intently as her eyes fluttered, before her eyebrows furrowed, obviously in pain. Her eyes finally opened and looked blearily up at him.

“Riddle?” she rasped.

And before she could ask anything more, his brilliant mind had quickly concocted a plan. He knelt down next to her and brushed some curls from her forehead and ignored the way she tried to shift away from him. Again, he found himself pointing his wand at her, inspiration coming to him like never before.

“Obliviate,” he muttered.

You will forget about me. You will forget that I came here, and you will go home.

He smirked as her eyes refocused. “And I will eventually follow you, my little lioness,” he whispered so quietly it was like he had uttered nothing at all.

He would follow her, because to stop the inevitable from happening, he would start again, in a new time. No one would see it coming.

“I will let you walk away from me one more time,” he said to her now sleeping form, before he stood and copied all her work, taking one final look at her before silently leaving her room, as if he had never been there at all.
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Don't Get Left Behind