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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
- 29
- 30
- 31
A/N: Many thanks to my beta, tormented eyes and catcachoo (from PI)! Special thanks to Nerys for the idea-throwing and checking through the chapter to make sure it seems logical. Huge, huge thanks to those of you who read, rated, and especially those of you who reviewed: Abyss, Jennifer, Aviendha, Lady Miya, kit, Nerys, and j!
Review replies can be found here: http://serp-replies.livejournal.com/5306.html
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Chapter 30
"You're a Muggle-born."
His statement resounded in her mind, each syllable freezing her from head to toe. She should run. She should attempt to get out of the library as soon as possible. She should not stay here, stare at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and wait for him to make the first move. The only person that might keep her safe was Madam Pince, and the librarian was sitting too far away, oblivious to what was happening over here.
Like that would be a fat load of help if Lord Voldemort decides to kill me. He had framed his uncle by this age already, Hermione Jean Granger. What's stopping him from murdering me and Obliviating Madam Pince?
Don't be ridiculous. Why would he kill you?
Because he embarrassed himself. Because he slept with a Mudblood. Because he had taken interest in a Mudblood.
She should have taken heed of Draco's warning. Why did she think it was a good idea to study in the quietest part of the library again? Maybe it was a good idea to have Madam Pince breathing down her neck after all. At least she would not have to worry about someone finding her mangled corpse in the middle of the lake tonight.
He continued to gaze at her, and she could not bring herself to look away from him, which was probably a good thing. If he were going to kill her, at least she would know exactly how she died.
Seconds ticked by, and the feelings slowly returned to her legs and arms. It also brought a good amount of courage back into her system, and she tilted her head slightly higher, almost defensively.
"Yes, I am."
If she were to die, she would not die denouncing her heritage.
Mixed emotions flashed through his eyes at her declaration. She could almost see the hatred he had for Muggles struggling vehemently with something else inside of him, but she could not and did not want to discern what that "something else" was. The only thing she could concentrate on was that venomous hatred.
It did not hurt her. It definitely did not. Why should she care that he hated Muggles and Muggle-borns? She had known that he was Lord Voldemort. She had known what he stood for and the bigotry he preached. There were no reasons for her to feel pain for the fact that he now labeled her as something he hated.
That sharp stab in her heart was not pain. It was ... fear. She would be ignorant and foolish if she did not feel afraid after her declaration. He could easily kill her right here and she would never get to see her friends and family again. It was definitely fear. Not pain.
Biting hard into her lower lip, she glared determinedly back at him, unwilling to let her emotions get the best of her, or rather, let his emotions get the best of her. It was his problem that he had an idiotic hatred of the majority of the world, not hers, and if he could not get over it ... it would not be her problem.
Because she did not care.
A short moment passed, and the lack of reactions from him began grating on her nerves. Why was he not saying anything? She had expected some long speech about the filthiness of Muggle-borns and Muggles after she admitted what she was. However, he merely stood there like some kind of statue. Did he plan to become a pillar for the library?
"Well?" she asked out of frustration, throwing her hands in the air.
She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to speak, and her aggravation only grew when his eyes simply narrowed. She stared right back at him, daring him. If he did, indeed, open his mouth and say something that rubbed her feathers the wrong way, she would have no problem hitting him the Muggle way. And she knew exactly where to target, thanks to constant reminders by Harry and Draco.
"Are you going to say something or what? I thought you had all your thought-provoking, world-changing, clever speeches made up already. Aren't you going to recite them to me now?"
"Granger, for once, keep your mouth shut," he finally said, his voice quiet.
It would have sounded dangerous to Hermione under other circumstances, but not right now.
"And why should I?" she lashed out. "Because I should adjust to your warped, self-serving way of treating other wizards and witches? Because I should listen to your biased opinions about how people like me should be treated? Do you actually think I should support your stupid ideas? Because if you do, Tom Marvolo Riddle—"
Suddenly, his hand shot out, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into his embrace, cutting her off. With his free hand, he grabbed a hold of her hair and pulled backwards. The strain on the roots of her hair nearly made her yelp, but she held it in, biting her lower lip to fight back the sound of defeat. Anger twisted his features; the charming young man was no longer there. In his place was a ready-to-strike viper, beautiful and alluring in all its colorfulness and sleek movements, but at the same time, deadly with its poisonous bite.
"I will only say this one more time, Granger. Keep your mouth shut," he warned.
Her mouth snapped shut, knowing that he was nearly at the verge of losing it completely again. Although, had he ever been sane?
Good question, she thought.
"The way you just keep going on and on is just unacceptable and can be classified as annoying when someone is trying to think properly," he said, eying her condescendingly. "It would do you well to learn when to listen and think rather than rattle things off as if you are the only person in the world who mattered."
"And watch you think over things like an idiot? Because people like me are supposed to listen to our so-called 'superiors,' aren't we? And if we don't, it's nothing a bit of Cruciatus can't solve, right?" she asked mockingly before she could stop herself, despite the difficulty of speaking with her head pulled backwards. "If it didn't frighten me the first time, do you think—"
He frowned and closed his eyes the moment she spoke, as if in exasperation.
"—so if you think that you can scare me with those torture curses that you have up your sleeves—"
Before she could get another word out, his lips crashed down on hers, silencing her. Suddenly, he pulled away again. A vicious grin appeared on her face when she saw blood forming on the place where she had wounded him. When she saw the wild look in his eyes, however, it was immediately wiped off her face.
With a squeak, she tried to push him away, but to no avail.
"You are a bit too fond of biting, Hermione," he said through gritted teeth.
"You're mental!" she shrieked. "Did you think that I would be interested in snogging you right after you blatantly showed your dislike for whatI am?"
She was positive that there was something immensely wrong with him. He was supposed to hate her. He was supposed to despise her. She had been expecting the Cruciatus Curse, or even the Killing Curse, but certainly not this.
"Once again, you had proven my point that you simply don't know when to shut up, Hermione," he growled, holding her tight as she tried to struggle out of his arms. "Continue like this, and I will consider our deal nullified."
Instantaneously, Hermione froze and ogled at him. The corner of his lips twitched upwards when she stopped struggling, amusement written quite clearly on his face now. It appeared that he had his temper under control again.
Letting go of her hair, he wiped the blood off with the back of his hand. He looked at the bloodstain there as the tip of his tongue languorously swept across the wound she had inflicted on his lower lip. For some reason, his movements made a furious blush spread over her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze, choosing to stare at his neck instead. Their closeness to one another allowed her to catch whiffs of his scent, causing her cheeks to warm up even more.
Instead of grabbing her hair again, he placed his hand on her arm. She glanced upwards and found him looking off to the side, his expression contemplative. When she caught herself staring, she mentally chided herself and ducked her head.
She should not be drooling over him, regardless of how utterly, breathtakingly handsome he was, and she should not feel nice and comfortable in his embrace. There was something wrong with her. Definitely something wrong with her. How could she be angry at him for one moment and wanting to stay in his arms forever the next? Not to mention the fact that there were at least ten million things wrong with the sentence, "She wanted to stay in his arms."
The Dark Lord, Hermione, Lord Voldemort. Killer of millions. Hater of Muggles and Muggle-borns. He was just talking about that a few minutes ago, and he just pulled your hair to pain you. No reasons to be attracted to him at all.
Shaking away the improper thoughts, she determinedly stared straight ahead, but then found herself staring at his chest. Well ... yes ... he was wearing robes, but she could clearly remember what she had seen ...
She nearly groaned. She swore she was not a pervert, but her excellent memory chose this precise minute to flash details through her mind. This was rather inconvenient and awkward. So, she turned her head but found herself looking at his hand instead, and she recalled the time when they were in the corridor ...
Remembering that reignited her annoyance with him. Really, she was not ready to forgive him for leaving her stranded like that. However, before she could decide on what, exactly, to do with the tease standing there, his fingers curled around a lock of hair, twirling it slowly.
She looked upwards and found him gazing at her with an amused expression on his face.
She raised her eyebrows. "Well? Have you reached a 'verdict' yet? Or do I have to stand here and wait for an insane amount of time for you to make up your mind? I still have homework, you know."
He chuckled softly. "I suppose I should have guessed that you were Muggle-born since the day you argued with Abraxas during class. It is abnormal for half-bloods to stand up for Muggles and Muggle-borns, despite their part-Muggle heritage. And the passionate way you fought for them ..." He seemed lost in thought for a second there, but immediately caught himself. "It should have been clear to me what you are."
She snorted. "Well, now that you've made such a 'ground-breaking discovery,' can you let me go already? And in case you don't remember, wards of all types are forbidden in the library."
He looked mildly surprised at her mentioning the wards, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
"No, Miss Granger. I cannot let you go yet," he said.
His voice was dangerously quiet again, causing her heartbeat to speed up again and leading her to wonder what he was thinking about now. She could not tell from the impassive mask on his face. However, when he did not pull out his wand, she pushed her fears away as much as she could and opened her mouth.
"Look, you cannot possibly place the blame on me. We are not required to wear a tag indicating whether we're a pure-blood, a half-blood, or a Muggle-born while we attend this school. And if you cannot get over the fact that you ... that you've slept with a Mudblood, then it's your problem and your problem alone," she said as calmly as she could.
He did not immediately answer her. Instead, he gazed at her so intensely that it made her turn red again. He released the lock of hair in his hand and tilted her chin upwards.
"You are so ... strange, Miss Granger."
Her eyes slightly narrowed at his assessment. So now, she was the strange one?
Before she could comment about it, however, he continued, "It is the first time I saw a Muggle-born so comfortable with their heritage, especially with the renewed feeling of superiority amongst pure-bloods with the rise of Grindelwald. It is almost as if you do not ... belong here."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat at exactly how close he was to the truth, so she immediately lowered her eyelashes to hide her gaze, just in case he had mastered Legilimency.
"Especially considering what a stronghold he has over Durmstrang ..."
"That is precisely why we had to transfer to Hogwarts. We had to get out of there before they decided to start torturing the Muggle-borns," she quickly lied.
That seemed like a good reason for them to escape. According to Krum, Durmstrang had not always discriminated against Muggle-borns or taught the Dark Arts freely. Those were things that occurred with the rise of Grindelwald. After Dumbledore defeated him, however, the discrimination slowly died down. The Dark Arts, however, were still kept in the curriculum because the Highmaster and professors deemed it a good thing for students to have some knowledge in it.
After Igor Karkaroff became the Highmaster of Durmstrang, perhaps it was because of his Death Eater name, he had been vehemently encouraging Muggle-borns to attend their school. Although most, if not all, of the Muggle-borns were still wary about attending Durmstrang when they came across the dark history of the school. Therefore, Malfoy's information was slightly off, but not completely incorrect when he said that Durmstrang did not accept Muggle-borns—it was more because of the fact that Muggle-borns did not even bother to consider the school as a possibility.
"But to admit it so freely and with pride ..." he spoke softly. "Either you are a true Gryffindor, or you are just simply too naive." He lowered his head until his lips were softly touching hers. "Or maybe a bit of both."
His tongue flickered out and gently licked her upper lip, causing her heart to flutter again, though this time, it was no longer from fear. As much as his actions enticed her, it confused her thoroughly. He was completely acting out of the norm—or rather, he was not reacting like she thought he would. Why was he kissing her instead of cursing her to oblivion?
"You are very strange, indeed," he concluded.
And I can say the same about you, too ...
She held her breath, almost anticipating the moment when he would close the distance. However, he did not. He merely allowed his lips to hover right above hers while he loosened his grip on her. He was still holding her close to him, but it was no longer with that iron-like, pain-inducing strength, while his other hand forced a sigh of surrender from each and every part of her body it touched.
She could clearly feel every part of his body pressed up against hers. The way he was physically stronger than her almost made her feel vulnerable against him, but at the same time, it gave her a sense of security, a sense of being protected. She was positive he must feel her heartbeat speeding up, and that thought in itself made her blush again, wondering if he knew what she was thinking. She felt her legs turn to jelly as his hands continued to caress her gently and intimately.
And then, he stopped.
Oh no ...
Before she could blink, he had allowed her to slide into the chair she was previously sitting in and had taken a step back.
Not again!
That infuriating smirk was back into place, and he was looking at her far too innocently for his intentions to be described the same way.
"I bid you good-night then, Miss Granger. I, too, still have some last minute homework to attend to," he said.
I'm going to kill him ...
"Good luck with your essay," he finished.
With a wave of his hand, the wards around them dropped, and he strode in the direction of the exit while she stared daggers at his retreating back, unable to open her mouth to call him back.
Suddenly, he stopped and swirled around.
"Oh, and Miss Granger?"
She refused to speak, determined on glaring him to death.
He laughed, all too joyfully in her opinion, when he noticed her discomfort.
"There's a whole essay refuting Longbottom's opinion on that last sentence I pointed out to you. It's found in Faults and Theories in Anomalies by Ursula Stargazer, chapter eighty-nine."
With that, he walked out of the library without another backward glance, leaving behind a very, very frustrated Hermione Jean Granger again.
~-0-~
Since he had not bothered to vocalize his thoughts, Hermione had no idea what the status of their "relationship" was any longer. After he abandoned her for a second time, Hermione had decided to avoid situations where she would find herself alone with the Heir of Slytherin. Yes, she had been caught off guard in the library, but she could not deny the attraction she felt towards him. Staying away from him, however, also brought about dreams of his touches at night which were always left unresolved.
"Enough of it already! Would you stop leaving me like this?" she had woken up yelling one night.
Thankfully, the other students were still not back in school yet, so she did not have any explaining to do. However, that protection would not last forever, since they were returning on Friday. In order to prevent future possible embarrassments, she had decided to place silencing charms around her bed before she went to sleep.
Her problems were, naturally, not shared by her fellow time travelers. Therefore, Harry, Draco, and Ginny's biggest concern was still how to return home. The truce between Harry and Draco proved to be useful when it came to devising plans to get them back to the future, however, since they spent a lot less time throwing insults at one another. Although there were times when they still reverted back to their childish banters, all in all, they managed to remain civil.
"So, it has been more than a month since Dumbledore went to Germany," Ginny summed up on Tuesday afternoon.
Hermione and Harry nodded.
"And no owls at all?" Draco asked. "Have you tried owling him?"
"I doubt he would make himself traceable, seeing that Grindelwald is at large right now, and I initially thought that he would send an owl back if he did find Feierabend," Hermione explained.
"So ... are you saying that something might have happened to him?" Draco asked, fear seeping into his voice though he had no excess of love for their old Headmaster. If anything, it was because it meant that their chances of going back had just been lowered.
The four of them sank deep into their thoughts, Draco's question hanging over them like a blade, ready to fall down on them any second. The possibility of never returning home frightened them.
"I think we should start looking through the library books. Even if we can't find the counter-spell to the one that sent us back here, there are no rules dictating that we cannot travel back in time one way and return in another," Hermione finally suggested. "I've gone through a lot of books in the library already, but they hardly have anything pertaining to time travel. I think we might need to check in the Restricted Section."
"Hermione, Madam Pince would have our skin fried like fish and chips before we got pass that rope," Draco pointed out with a frown.
"Harry has his invisibility cloak with him," Ginny replied. "But we can't all fit under the cloak at once." She glanced back at Hermione who nodded to her statement.
"What we need to do is separate in pairs. Two of us will have to keep watch while the other two look for information in the Restricted Section."
"Right, but how are the two keeping watch going to tell the other two that someone's coming?" Ginny asked.
"Since we will have to do this at night, the two keeping watch will have to stay by the doorway. I think you and Harry can keep watch under the invisibility cloak while Draco and I look through the Restricted books. If someone's coming, Harry can imitate the Bloody Baron's voice and you can imitate Peeve's voice," Hermione proposed.
"Weatherby doing Peeve's voice?" Draco wrinkled his nose.
"She's pretty good at it," Hermione said, eying Ginny who grinned back at her.
Ginny suddenly cackled in a way so similar to Peeves that it made Draco stare as if it were the first time he met her.
"So, we're all alright with the arrangements?" Hermione asked, softly chuckling at the look of disbelief on Draco's face.
After agreeing that that was probably their best option, all of them stood up and stretched.
"I'm heading to the Room of Requirement for a nap then. When are we going to do this?" Draco asked as he smoothed out his robes.
Hermione slightly frowned in thought.
"We should probably get to it as soon as possible. We should probably also try to find information about Feierabend, too, just in case we need to find Dumbledore."
"Find Dumbledore? Are you mental, Hermione? He's in Germany right now, so how are we supposed to find him?" Draco asked incredulously.
"Just in case, Draco," Hermione reminded him of her words. She paused. "I'm just afraid that we're changing the timeline. If that were to happen, we might return to a future that we no longer know. What's the point of that?"
The uncertainty and hollow sound in her voice made the other three people stop in their actions. For the first time, the seriousness of their situation struck them, and it struck them hard.
"Is ... is it possible though? Is it possible for us to change something?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione for reassurance.
She sighed. "Yes." She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and continued. "I've told you this once before, Harry, though I doubt you'd remember it. There are people ... some people who go back in time and accidentally kill their past selves and others who go forward in time and accidentally kill their future selves. It's not unheard of, and if that were to happen, we might all disappear or we can change the future so drastically that nothing is the same anymore."
The three of them remained silent, and Hermione shifted in her position, a bit uncomfortable about the fact that she had to share the burden with her friends. However, she did feel that they had the right to know what might happen.
"Well ..." Ginny started to say, catching the attention of Harry, Draco, and Hermione, "we can't really change what we don't know. So, we have to start looking for ways to go back quickly, or else we might change things even more." She then frowned and gave a short nod. "And I suppose we should start looking for information about Feierabend, just like Hermione suggested."
"We'd probably have to break into Dumbledore's office," Harry added.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because there might be information about his contacts in Germany. If he is going to look for Feierabend there, we might get clues about who and where we should look," Harry answered.
He then looked at Hermione for approval but found her with a deep frown on her face.
"What's the matter, Hermione?" Ginny asked softly.
Hermione shook her head before looking up at the other three people. "I'm just thinking ... what if something happens to Dumbledore, and Grindelwald wins because of us?"
And that was a can of worms if she had ever known one.
~-0-~
After much fussing and worrying, they finally decided to get things over and done with. So, they agreed to break into Dumbledore's office and the library the following night. They waited until they were positive that the rest of the remaining students were in their respective common rooms before they snuck out of the Gryffindor tower.
As they walked quickly towards their destination, Harry spoke quickly, "It's ten minutes before curfew. It will take us at least three minutes to reach Dumbledore's office—"
"—and at least another three to open the lock," Draco finished. "Why do I feel that there are at least twenty ways this could go wrong?"
"Stop jinxing us, Malloy," Harry hissed.
"I'm not kidding though. I'm more scared of Riddle finding us than anyone else," Draco said in a low voice.
"Because we all know how much he would love to have another reason to torture you," Ginny whispered.
Draco's face turned paler than it usually was. "It's not funny, Weatherby. If he finds another reason to Cruciate me, I might as well move to the Room of Requirement for the rest of the time we're here."
Ginny snickered but did not make any further comment. They remained quiet and did not have any more conversations for the rest of the way to their destination.
When they finally reached Dumbledore's office, they stared at the closed door.
"So ... any ideas about how to get in there? I doubt a simple Alohomora is going to work on it," Draco pointed out. He glanced at Hermione, who was staring at the door with a frown. "Well, Hermione?"
"It's a puzzle," she concluded. "You see those runes on the door? They can be grouped into three." She pointed at the top, the middle, and the bottom of the door in order. "However, the runes are not in the correct order. So, we first—"
"Wait, Hermione," Draco cut her off. She looked at him questioningly. "You know how to get through whatever this is he set up here, don't you?" She raised her eyebrows but nodded.
"Yes, I was just about to—"
"Then can't you just open the door without giving us a whole lecture about how it is done? Because first off, we're not going to learn the whole thing in a matter of minutes, and secondly, Evans here is certainly not interested in it," he interrupted her again.
"Oh, like you're interested in it," Harry protested, unwilling to be the only one to take the blame.
Draco shrugged. "So we're both very interested in learning this some other time. But for now, please just open the door, Hermione?"
Huffing and shooting both of them annoyed glares, she turned around and focused on solving the puzzle on the door. After a few complicated waves of her wand, the door finally clicked, indicating that it was open. Hermione blinked.
"Well, that wasn't too hard," she murmured.
"Wasn't too hard, she says," Harry muttered under his breath.
"You are so lucky she was your friend since year one, Evans. If not, I would like to see you try and defeat You-Know-Who," Draco said in a soft voice.
"I'm not kidding there. If I can get through that, I doubt Tom wouldn't be able to," Hermione answered, frowning in thought.
"And why would Riddle want to break into his office? To steal his whole lifetime supply of lemon drops?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes.
Hermione shrugged while Harry and Ginny exchanged amused glances. Nevertheless, since they could not fathom why Dumbledore left such an "easy" puzzle on his door, they checked on both sides of the hallways and opened the door. To their surprise, there was a second door behind it. Harry tried to turn the knob but to no avail.
"Another puzzle?" Draco asked, peeking over Hermione's shoulder.
She shook her head. "There's nothing on the door."
She was slightly panicking now, realizing that they were using far more time than they had guessed on Dumbledore's doors. What if someone caught them?
"Try using the password he used last time," Harry suggested. "Didn't you say you spoke to him before he went off to Germany?"
"Isn't that too easy?" Draco asked.
"Not to mention I didn't hear him mutter anything at the door," Hermione replied exasperatedly.
"Well, we can try," Harry insisted.
For the next five minutes, the four of them started muttering anything that came to their minds that might be the password. They were about to give up when suddenly, out of the blue, Harry muttered "Ariana." With a creak, the door slid open.
It surprised them so much, that momentarily, they stood there staring at the doorway until Draco spoke up. "For once, Evans, brilliant."
"Er ... thanks," Harry replied, still kind of surprised he accidentally opened the door.
"No wonder the Dark Lord was always nagging about you having extraordinary luck," Draco snickered as they strode into the room.
A sheepish smile appeared on Harry's face upon hearing his words. They then placed their concentration on the room in front of them, trying to guess what might give them clues in regards to where Dumbledore might be. The sheer amount of things in the room, however, started to make them feel slightly worried; the time they needed to spend on searching through the stuff in the room might be longer than they had first anticipated.
Draco shuddered as he eyed the room warily. "Someone remind me again why we're in here? What's stopping him from putting some charm in here to trap us?"
"Well, we'd have to take the risk, don't we? He probably wouldn't, seeing that one of the other professors may need to borrow something from his office," Hermione analyzed. "I think someone should keep a watch out at the door, just in case someone strolls around the corner and sees the door open."
Harry nodded, and seconds later, he and Ginny disappeared under the Invisibility Cloak while Hermione and Draco proceeded to scour the room for any possible information about Dumbledore's German contacts.
~-0-~
A/N: No cliffie this time ;).
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Somewhere in Time