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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
- 35
- 36
- 37
A/N: Many thanks to catcachoo (from PI) for beta-ing the chapter! Special thanks to Nerys for checking it over for logic. Huge, huge thanks to those of you who read, faved, added to alert, and especially those of you who reviewed: Aviendha, Rena, bluelagoon, mirrorofrapture, and Lady Miya!

Review replies can be found here: http://serp-replies.livejournal.com/

~-0-~

Chapter 36

The world swirled around her, and she felt her vision focusing in and out. Her stomach lurched, nearly causing her to stop in her steps, but she knew she could not afford to stall. She sighed out of relief the moment the Potions classroom came in sight, and using the last burst of energy, she ran towards it. What she had not been prepared was the door opening and the appearance of Tom. Before she could even think about stopping in her steps, she slammed full force into him. His arms steadied her, and the moment she was standing still, dizziness swept through her.

"Arse ... I wasn't ... even telling them ... about the ... Chamber," she muttered, panting from running and from the effects of the spell.

Glancing both ways down the hall, Tom pulled her into the Potions classroom and locked the door behind them.

"The spell wouldn't have been activated if you hadn't spoken about it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Merlin, she could barely open her eyes now, let alone talk. A whispered string of Parseltongue left his lips, and the squeezing hold of the invisible snakes loosened. Welcomed air swooshed into her lungs, and she hungrily breathed it in. Though the effects of the venom were still intact, she felt slightly comfortable enough to speak.

"I was stopping them from talking about it," she replied.

"I'm sure the Chamber of Secrets is a very common topic to chat about," he commented wryly.

She buried her head into his chest, not even sure how she should answer that comment. She could not actually tell him that Draco was pestering her to tell him about how she figured out what the monster in the Chamber was.

"I didn't start the conversation," she said instead, closing her eyes, "nor did I tell them about it. I've told you already ... Gareth and Joseph mentioned Myrtle to us on the second day we arrived her."

A stinging pain started to form on her shoulder, and she involuntarily cringed from it.

"Give me a good reason why I should believe you, Hermione," he spoke quietly.

Her head swirled, and she knew she would have crashed onto the floor if he had not been holding on to her. For a moment, she wondered if he were going to let her die. For whatever reasons, the venom seemed to move slower in his presence, but he had made no move to cure her.

The things she had done earlier flashed through her mind, and she nearly groaned. Why did she think that it was a good idea to step on his foot again? Well, yes, he had been annoying, and the things he was doing during class warranted much more than just a stomp on the foot, but she was pretty sure that it gave him another reason to make her suffer from the venom.

Suddenly, her stomach lurched again. Noticing how her body stiffened, he pushed her over his arm just seconds before she started dry-heaving. She was awfully glad that she had not gone to dinner yet because of her visit to the infirmary.

She mildly registered his hand moving agilely to the place where she had been bitten on her shoulder without needing her to inform him about it. Rubbing his thumb against the spot, he hissed softly, and slowly, the nausea started to go away. When he finally stopped, her mind was much clearer, and her vision was no longer as blurred as it was before. Nonetheless, she knew that she was not completely healed yet.

He placed her in one of the chairs and sat on top of the desk, facing her.

"The spell I've placed on you is activated when you mention anything pertaining to the Chamber, even if it's just a simple gesture, such as nodding or shaking your head," he said softly, placing his hands on either side of his legs and leaning slightly forward towards her. "The snakes surrounding you will inject its venom and start constricting around you. As you already know, the natural response would be to find the caster of the spell, who, in this case, is me, and the spell will let you know precisely where I am. A rather convenient spell created by Salazar Slytherin himself, though it could possibly be altered ..." His voice drifted off, and Hermione realized he was thinking to himself again.

She momentarily wondered if this spell was the ancestor of the spell that created Pettigrew's silver hand. After all, there were many qualities that were similar between the two.

"The poison won't kill you, if that's what you're wondering," he continued.

A wicked smile appeared on his face when a sigh of relief escaped her lips, immediately alarming her.

"But?" she asked.

He did not answer her. Instead, he asked in a sickeningly sweet voice, "For how long has the spell been activated?"

Her mind raced as her heart started to pound painfully against her chest. She knew there must be a reason why he sounded so pleased, and it did not make her at ease at all.

And then, she knew why.

Her mouth opened into a silent scream as she crashed on to the floor. She could not remember if the Cruciatus Curse caused this much pain, but at the moment, she could only concentrate on the feeling of every part of her body being crushed into a pulp. Cold sweat broke out across her skin, and her muscles convulsed. She tried to scream, but she could not. Her voice was stuck in her throat, and she could not dislodge it.

Tom made no move to help her. He merely sat there watching with an aloof expression on his face as her body twisted into an impossible angle. The pain went on and on, and she had no idea how long it lasted before it started to subside. She closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the floor, trying to push away the dizzy feeling that was still churning through her.

"You've probably worked out that the infirmary has no antidote for the poison," he suddenly spoke, alerting her. His lips curved into a faint smile when he noticed he had her attention. "The pain will occur every hour."

Her eyes widened, and despite the fact that every one of her muscles was still in pain, she pushed herself off the floor into sitting position and stared at him.

He shrugged and leaned backwards. "I've told you not to do anything foolish."

"Were you even listening? I told you I wasn't telling them about the Chamber of Secrets!" she said through gritted teeth.

"And I've told you already: The spell wouldn't have been activated if you weren't talking about it," he hissed, leaning forward again.

"I was telling them to shut up about it! If you've bothered to tell me the limitations and exactly what would have activated it, I would've excused myself completely from the conversation!" argued Hermione.

"I find it hard to believe that they would've been talking about it without you prompting it," he said.

"And why would I prompt them about it? I've told you already, Joseph and Gareth told us about Myrtle the first day we sat down for breakfast. It's not my fault that the rumor mill at Hogwarts never stops. Contrary to what you may believe, I do not have a death wish," she answered angrily.

Though Harry, Ginny, and Draco might disagree.

He eyed her quietly, his expression yet again unreadable. Second later, he slid off the desk, leaned against it, and crossed his legs at his ankles.

"You've been here for more than three months already, Granger. Why are they still talking about gossip from then?" he asked.

She knew she could not let him suspect that the others knew what lived in the Chamber of Secrets. It would undoubtedly lead to complications, and the last thing she wanted was for Harry, Ginny, and Draco to worry about their backs wherever they go.

"They know I've been trying to work out what really happened to Myrtle," she explained. When she saw Tom's eyebrow quirk upwards, she immediately added, "They don't know how much I know about the Chamber. I've never got around to telling them about it."

At least, Draco didn't know anything about the Chamber.

The thought slipped into her mind before she could stop herself. For the millionth time, she cursed at herself for not mastering Occlumency beforehand, and her fear proved itself to be well founded with his next question.

"And Mr. Evans?"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut, and she couldn't bring herself to avert her eyes because she knew it was pointless—it would be as telling as what was going through her mind right now. Fury flashed through his eyes as he took a step forward, so that he was towering over her.

"He knows," he said very, very quietly. "It seems that there is more than meets the eye with Mr. Evans. One would have to wonder just how much he knows ..." He circled around, stopping directly behind her. "What happened with the wands during our duel?"

His voice was sharp, though it was hardly any louder than how he was speaking before.

Hermione's eyes flitted around the room, trying to look for signs of Slughorn but to no avail. A soft chuckle came from behind her.

"Don't bother searching for the professor, Hermione. He's not coming back here anytime soon," said Tom.

She turned her head slightly and found him tapping his wand gently on the side of his leg. He raised a single eyebrow at her.

"We have plenty of time, Hermione. I daresay, he wouldn't be back before you've gone through at least another round of pain," he said. Tapping his wand on one of the chairs, he changed it into a plush armchair and sank into it. Pocketing his wand again, he placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "I ask you again, what happened with the wands during our duel?"

"I don't know," replied Hermione as she stared back at him, a stubborn look etched on her face.

Her answer took him by surprise, and Hermione would have laughed at the taken aback expression on his face under different conditions.

"Granger—"

"I'm not telling you anything, Tom," Hermione interrupted him, "so I hope you enjoy waiting around for the hour, and if you do use Legilimency on me, have fun explaining to the professor why I'm exhausted from you using it on me or why I'm thrashing on the floor when the hour's up again."

Narrowing his eyes, he stood up, pulling her up with him. In contrast to his anger, an impish smile appeared on Hermione's face, since she knew that he was not about to risk his cover for something like this.

"Stubborn little witch," he hissed.

So much annoyance was present in his voice that Hermione nearly wanted to stick out her tongue at him, just to irritate him even more.

"The wand belongs to Mr. Evans, doesn't it?" Tom said quietly. "Did you think that the wand changing would have gone unnoticed by everyone? It might have tricked Merrythought, but it wasn't going to trick me, not to mention the less than inconspicuous instructions Mr. Evans was shouting at you. Although we both cast different spells, what occurred between the two wands was Priori Incantatem. Now, do tell me why that happened between the two wands. It never happened with any other person that I dueled with, and I have no doubt that it will only happen with Mr. Evans's wand."

He was closer to the truth than Hermione had anticipated, and that in itself made her uncomfortable. The notion of changing history nagged at the back of her mind again. Well, this obviously was not her fault, and nobody could blame her about this. If she had allowed Harry to duel with Tom without the change of wands, the same thing would have happened.

Though Tom would probably have a harder time trying to corner Harry by himself.

But in the end, after comparing the two different situations, Hermione had to say that she was glad it was her rather than Harry. If it were Harry, either he or Tom would undoubtedly end up in the infirmary or St. Mungo's.

A satisfied smile appeared briefly on Tom's face, but it was gone the second it appeared. Nonetheless, Hermione still saw it, and the fact that she had no idea why he was pleased worried her. He suddenly released her and sat back down in the armchair. He did not voluntarily speak, and that expression on his face only made her more anxious, until finally, he opened his mouth.

"I do recall that you needed to go back to the Chamber, don't you?" he changed the subject ever so casually.

As much as it pained the book-longing side of her, she felt a bit more relaxed. If he planned to use the Chamber as leverage, she had already known that her chances of going back were close to null.

"You were trying to find a way to travel to Germany, weren't you?" he continued.

His question struck her as weird, since that was precisely why he had brought her down to the Chamber of Secrets in the first place. Then, a possibility floated to the surface of her mind.

"You've found the book?" she asked, unable to hide the curiosity and excitement out of her voice. However, she stopped rather abruptly, and her eyes narrowed as suspicion rose higher than anticipation. "You're not tricking me with that, Tom. You're just using it as bait, aren't you?"

Much to her surprise, he laughed. In response, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.

"Honestly, grow up, Riddle," she leered. "How old are you? Seven? Using these childish tactics—"

"You know what's so hilarious about you, Granger?" interrupted Tom, still laughing.

She stopped in her taunts and stared, thoroughly irked right now by his attitude and words. Deciding not to humor him, she remained quiet and waited for him to speak on his own accord. After all, talking seemed to be his favorite hobby.

Other than being annoying and trying and failing to kill toddlers.

His laughter finally slightly subsided, and he gazed at her, the humor still causing his eyes to glitter merrily. "It is so easy to tell you a lie and make you believe it, but when you're being told the truth ..." He started chuckling again.

She was positive about it now; she had proven it: He was barking mad.

"What are you going on about?" she inquired.

His mouth remained shut, waiting for her to work out what he meant by herself, but her mind drew blanks, until a specific conversation she had with him down in the Chamber surfaced.

"Then what's the title of the book?"

"I wouldn't remember now, would I?"

"You? Not remembering something?"

"Now why would I hide that piece of information from you?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Pray tell, Granger, why else would I risk letting you know who the Heir of Slytherin really is? Such accusations after I had so ... kindly brought you down here. And here I am, trying to help you find the book, and you accused me of hiding it from you."

Her breathing quickened, but this time, it had nothing to do with anxiety or pain.

"You ..." she seethed.

He raised an eyebrow, resting his elbows on the armrests and lacing his fingers together.

"You evil—You disgusting—You blasted—"

"Very eloquent speech there, Granger," he mocked, leaning backwards on the chair.

She stomped over so that she was hovering over him. Even her hair seemed to be crackling from her anger.

"So, now that you know what information I possess," he said, taking his time and allowing his eyes to drink in her furious expression, "I propose a deal."

"A deal? A deal? You lied to me, Tom Marvolo Riddle. What makes you think that I'm interested in making a deal with you?" she shrieked.

Apparently, her fury had no effect on him whatsoever. Casually, he lifted himself out of the armchair, once again towering over her.

"You've always assumed that I was a liar, haven't you, Granger? You've always believed that none of the words that came out of my mouth could be believed in, and anything I do always had an ulterior motive. So do tell me, why does it make you so surprised when I am doing things that you've always known I'll do?" he asked, his words filled with curiosity and amusement.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to come up with a remark to that but to no avail. Grudgingly, she had to admit that he was right. She had always known how manipulative he could be, so it should not surprise her at all that he did something like this. Nonetheless, it still irritated her, especially when she had no idea why he had chosen to conceal that information from her until now. He had no idea about the wands until after their trip down to the Chamber of Secrets after all.

"The cure to the venom that running through your veins right now and a way to travel to Germany for one thing in return, Hermione. It's not every day that I am so ... generous," said Tom, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

"It's blackmail," she retorted.

He grinned. "Of course you may call it that. I prefer to think of it as a trade."

She huffed. Trade indeed, in which he was getting more benefits than she was. Additionally, she was very sure that other than the information she had to offer, he was going to get something else out of this deal, though she had no idea what it was at the moment.

"So ... do we agree on the trade?"

"You wish, Riddle," replied Hermione, flicking away his hand. "I've told you already, I'm not telling you anything."

"No?" he asked, raising his eyebrow again. "I guess our dear old Transfiguration professor will have to remain missing then. Perhaps captured by Grindelwald ... Such a pity that you'll never return home."

His words made her cast her eyes downwards and bit her lower lip. A twinge of worry ran through her again. So what if the timeline changed? If Dumbledore disappeared or, even worse, died, the timeline would be changed anyway. She wanted to tear her hair out from the decision she had to make. It was too difficult, and what was worse was the fact that she had absolutely no idea what the correct answer here was.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Abraxas Malfoy froze at the doorway when he noticed Hermione standing there. Curiosity flashed through his eyes, but upon seeing the displeasure on his Lord's face, he lowered his gaze.

"What?" Tom snapped.

Abraxas gazed at Hermione a couple of times with a rather strange expression, as if he wanted to say something but did not know if he should.

"If you're going to stand there without doing anything, Abraxas ..." said Tom, trailing off warningly.

"Slughorn's just around the corner, two hallways down," Abraxas immediately answered.

Tom's eyes narrowed to mere slits. "And you decided to tell me now?"

"Goyle was supposed to tell me if he spots Slughorn coming—"

"Enough with your excuses," Tom cut in. "Stall him."

"B-but how?"

"Give him your supply of crystallized pineapples or show him your family portrait. What do I care? If he arrives here in less than fifteen minutes, I will be very displeased, Abraxas," said Tom.

Abraxas gulped, and the door immediately slammed closed after he disappeared through it. However, that was precisely when the venom of Tom's spell started to activate inside of Hermione, too.

Tom cursed under his breath as his arms went around her waist, preventing her from crashing onto the floor. She did not know if she were imagining it, but the intensity of the pain seemed to have increased. It caused tears to well up in her eyes, and without thinking, her mouth found his shoulder and bit down on it, causing him to hiss in pain.

"Let go, Granger," he demanded.

But she could not control her muscles, let alone loosening her jaw. Besides, it was his fault in the first place she was in pain, so it serves him right to feel some of it.

Very much annoyed, his fingers quickly found and dug down on the points where she had been bitten. He rapidly hissed in Parseltongue, and the pain slowly went away with each syllable that left his mouth. When he finally stopped, the breath she had not known she had been holding swooshed out of her lungs. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to regulate her breathing, but before she knew what was happening, Tom tightened his hold around her waist and tipped her backwards, causing her to gasp when she fell on top of the table behind her. A yelp of pain was about to escape her throat, but his lips crashed down on hers, muffling it.

His legs tangled with hers, and one of his hands traveled down the side of her body, further confusing her. She wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing; this was too abrupt and very unlike the way he usually did things.

However, her question was answered the moment the door of the classroom creaked open, and Slughorn appeared.

Like Abraxas, Slughorn froze at the doorway.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Oh ..."

As if taken by surprise, Tom jumped off Hermione's body and took a step back. A flush appeared on his pale cheeks, as if he were really embarrassed about being caught.

"Professor ... I'm ... I apologize," Tom stammered quietly, keeping his eyes downcast and glancing at Slughorn with uncertainty written all over his face.

Slughorn laughed heartily after recovering from his shock. "M'dear boy! There's no need to apologize," he chortled, winking at Tom before looking at Hermione. "If I'd found you with someone other than Hermione, of course, then I would expect apologies from you."

Hermione gave him a weak smile in return, embarrassment tinging her cheeks rouge.

"Now, were you here just to see Tom, Hermione? If you were I can always ..." Slughorn trailed off as he made the gesture of moving out the door.

Her cheeks turned to an ever deeper shade as she shook her head, not wanting him to make any more assumptions. "I ... I wanted to know when I should serve my next detention."

"Oh right! Your detention ... we were supposed to talk about that after class," Slughorn murmured to himself. He grinned kindly at her. "When do you suppose you have time?" He peered at her closely. "Of course ... if you have too much homework, I do understand. This can be easily settled and it would remain a little secret between the three of us. I'm sure Tom wouldn't tell the Headmaster if we just sort of ... let the matter slide."

Oh, she was sure Tom would have a field day if she took up on that offer. The sheer thought of how delighted he would be to have something else to hold over her head disgusted her, so she immediately shook her head.

"That's very kind of you, Professor ... but I think I can handle the detentions," Hermione said.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Slughorn, clapping his hands together. He then looked at the two of them, the grin growing bigger and bigger. "It's such a pleasure to have the two of you in my class. So responsible, kind, talented ... I'm sure both of you will be very successful out in the world ... Now, I expect invitations to your wedding. I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I brought some of my friends over? It can't be small wedding, not like Gareth's cousin, Sagramore—talented young man, but he never quite knew how to use that intelligence of his—"

The color of Hermione's face had already reached the darkest shade of red it could turn, and she tried to cut into Slughorn's words to correct him, but he continued speaking.

"Have you thought about what careers you might want to pursue? Well, of course you have, since you're already in your seventh year. Tom, you did express interest in teaching, but I do think you would do so well in the Ministry—"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly, which was unnoticed by Slughorn but not Tom. Sarcasm was well-hidden behind that seemingly polite smile on Tom's face. Yet, Hermione knew that he was becoming bored and annoyed with Slughorn's ramblings, if the hardness that was now present in his eyes was anything to go by.

"Dear Merlin, and when the two of you have children—"

Hermione sputtered when she heard that, and Tom appeared every bit as unsettled as she was. She was sure that he was just short of pulling out his wand and killing Slughorn. With each word that tumbled out of Slughorn's mouth, Tom's gaze only became more murderous and his smile more forced.

"—How many children do you reckon you'd want? With the intelligence of the two of you, your children must be—"

By this point, Hermione almost wished that Tom would pull out his yew wand and direct that infamous flash of green light at the babbling professor. Slughorn was officially redefining the meaning of being annoying.

"But of course, I'm getting ahead of myself," Slughorn finally said, readjusting the dreamy look on his face. "So, Hermione, whenever you can drop by to serve your detention—" He gave her another annoying wink. "—just let me know, and I am sure Tom will be more than happy to oversee it."

"Thank you, professor," murmured Hermione, suddenly wanting to get out of the classroom as soon as possible.

After bidding Slughorn good-bye, she quickly made her way out with Tom right behind her. Once they were in the hallway, he pulled her into his arms.

Lowering his head towards her ear, he whispered, "Do think over my proposal, Hermione, and I suggest giving me an answer before the fourteenth."

"Why the fourteenth?" she asked.

But Tom did not answer her. With an annoying smirk plastered on his face, he walked back into the Potions classroom, ignoring the confusion on her face.

~-0-~

The next morning went by relatively peacefully, since Harry, Draco, and Ginny attributed her abrupt leave last night to the library. After all, it was not uncommon for Hermione to suddenly think of something she needed to do that had something to do with "research" or "books." Nonetheless, the moment of blissful quietness did not make Hermione any happier because she still had Muggle Studies with Tom to "look forward to."

Surprisingly, the chat before class started was what slightly perked up her mood.

She raised her eyebrows at him when he turned around in his seat and stared at her, amusement written all over his face.

"There's ... something strange that I must ask you about," said Tom.

"Something that even the great Tom Marvolo Riddle can't answer?" she asked somewhat mockingly.

The smile on his face deepened. "Care to ... enlighten me in regards to why Iris Parkinson can't stand to place her hands on me any longer?"

His question first took her by surprise, and then, her lips curled into a Cheshire-like grin while her eyes glinted way too merrily at his question. "She can't place her hands on you? Now, how am I supposed to know why that happened? It could be anything ... Perhaps you're losing your charm and she just doesn't find you as attractive any longer."

He chuckled softly. "'Losing my charm,' as you've so creatively placed it, would not cause her hands to break out with blisters every single time she tried to touch me, Granger."

"Oh ... is she getting blisters on her hands? I do hope she's doing alright," she said airily as her grin uncontrollably widened.

"She's doing rather abysmally. She's been in a foul mood ever since last night when it first broke out," replied Tom cheerfully, laughter never completely leaving his voice. "Of course, with each attempt, her temper only continued to grow to unbearable heights."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, wondering just how many times the woman tried to touch him. Well, that problem was permanently solved.

Brushing a single finger down her cheek, he said, "You're looking far too happy to be pronounced innocent, Granger."

"Are you accusing me of having something to do with whatever happening to Iris?" asked Hermione.

He did not answer, though the amusement in his eyes increased.

"It was a rather ... creative curse, Granger," he murmured. "It does make me wonder how many Dark Arts books the 'culprit' read before coming up with something like that."

She probably should be worried about the fact that she had just received a compliment from the future Dark Lord about a curse she created, but instead she was rejoicing in the notion that it worked. Well, it was the cow's fault, since she should not had been touching people without their permission in the first place anyway. Besides, Hermione was being "kind" to her. If the poor girl saw how Tom looked like in the future, she would be running the other way, screaming like a banshee. No, Hermione was doing a very good deed, indeed.

"Have you come to a conclusion?" he suddenly asked, changing the topic altogether.

"Huh?" she responded, blinking once before it sank into her mind what he was talking about. "Oh ..." She gnawed on the inside of her cheek before slowly opening her mouth, "What exactly do you want? You haven't been very clear about it ..."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It was perfectly clear to you last night."

"I was assuming that you just wanted answers to your questions, but then you've never indicated exactly what questions you were going to ask," she replied.

"That," he answered, "depends on how much you know."

"Well, it was the first time it happened to me—"

"That much is obvious," interrupted Tom. "The wand belongs to Mr. Evans, so naturally, he's the one who knows about it, and I doubt he wouldn't tell you everything he knows about this." Propping his head up with one hand, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "As I've said, you have until the fourteenth to give me an answer or else we will have to wait another month before you can go to Germany."

Knowing that she was running out of time with only five days until the fourteenth, she decided to discuss the issue with Harry and the others after lunch.

Thankfully, most of the other students were outside, enjoying the new blanket of snow that had fallen over the school grounds overnight. Augusta, who had been sitting in the Gryffindor common room, immediately walked out when she saw Hermione.

"I'm amazed at how popular you are, Hermione," commented Draco, causing Harry and Ginny to snort.

After they sat down in the armchairs near the fireplace, Hermione proceeded to tell them about Tom knowing a way to travel internationally.

"How did he know we were going to Germany?" asked Harry.

"He saw us at the library that day, and I had to tell him something," Hermione explained. "I couldn't tell him about time traveling, so I told him that we were looking for a way to travel to Germany to help Professor Dumbledore instead."

"He's going to try to get something out of it," Harry immediately said.

"Well, that much is obvious, Potty. The more important question is what he wants out of this. I can't imagine the Dark Lord trying to help the old coot," said Draco.

"He wants information about the wand ... and possibly about where we're from. He didn't exactly specify," Hermione admitted.

"Which, he hopes, would give him unlimited access to everything we know," Harry concluded, his eyes flashing. "In his dreams."

"But he's also the only person who knows how to travel internationally ... illegally right now," Ginny reminded them. "Hermione and I have looked through all the books, and true to his words, the only ways indicated in the books are the Floo networks and Apparition."

"But that doesn't mean—" Harry stopped abruptly in his words. "Hang on. When did Riddle say anything about Floo networks and Apparition? And why do you know about it, Ginny? When did the two of you talked about it?"

"We talked about in the infirmary while we were looking over the books, while you, Draco, and Alphard were practicing Quidditch," Hermione replied. "Tom told me about it that night when he caught us near the library."

"But we don't know if he's lying or not," Draco stated. "He could be lying to us, and we wouldn't know."

"Hermione can always tell him that we won't tell him anything before he brings us there," Ginny said.

"I doubt it will work. He's not going to believe that we'll keep to our end of the deal," said Harry, shaking his head.

"As if he has more credibility than we do," Ginny remarked, shaking her head.

"I'm not the one judging," Harry replied, holding his hands up in defeat.

"What if we make him do the Unbreakable Vow? Then he would have to keep to his end of the deal," Draco suggested.

"Wait," Hermione cut in, holding up her hand to signal for them to stop for a second. "Are we really sure we want to let him ask the questions he wants? He can very well change the future because of that."

Though last night she had thought about disregarding the changes they might make to the timeline, the broad daylight brought some senses back to her mind. The concept of changing the future frightened her, and deep down inside, she needed some reassurance that what she was doing was right, that she was not making the wrong choice.

"If we let Dumbledore remain missing and possibly die because of this, we will still change the future, Hermione," Harry pointed out. "If we word things carefully, we probably wouldn't have to reveal so many things about the future."

"Right, Harry. What if he asks about the wands? What are you going to tell him?" Hermione challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.

Harry scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well ..."

"Well?" Hermione pushed on.

"I suppose I can tell him that it was because both of our wands have phoenix feathers," he answered slowly.

"And how are you going to explain how in the world you know the core of his wand is a phoenix feather?" Hermione asked. "Not to mention the fact that plenty of wands have phoenix feathers as their cores. Why did it happen specifically with your wand?"

Harry's face then visibly brightened when he thought about something. "Well, Malloy here knows Occlumency, doesn't he? He could be the one talking. We could tell him that it happened to me before, but we have no idea why it happened."

"Me?" Draco said in a higher voice than usual. "I'm staying at least ten feet away from him, Evans. What if he thinks it's a good idea to curse me again because I might be Hermione's boyfriend?"

"He does seem a bit overly obsessed about that ..." Harry remarked, his voice trailing off as he glanced uneasily at Hermione.

Feeling her cheeks warming at their words, Hermione immediately steered the conversation back on topic, "He's going to find it strange if Draco's the one doing the talking, Harry. I doubt he's going to buy it. He knows Draco knows close to nothing about the wands, or at least, he thinks. He knows you're the one with the most information. He's going to want to know about it from you ... or me."

"Don't we have to find a way to make sure he's going to keep to his end of the deal first? What if we answer the question and he backs out on us?" Ginny brought up again.

"I doubt he's going to agree to the Unbreakable Vow," said Harry, shaking his head.

"I doubt it, too," Hermione agreed. She bit her lower lip, trying to find a solution to their problem.

"Why can't Potty learn Occlumency and we can get it over and done with?" Draco asked, slightly annoyed.

"He does sort of know it already," Hermione replied and then, she turned towards Harry. "But Harry, you would have to control your emotions when you're blocking him out of your mind."

"I'd only blocked him out last time because he was in a different country, Hermione," Harry replied, shaking his head.

"You blocked him out during the final battle, and he wasn't out of country then," she pointed out. "You just let things slip when you let your temper run wild. Besides, your minds are no longer linked now, so I think it might work, and I think you can block him out of your mind."

"But ... but what if ... what if it doesn't work that way? What if I've only blocked him out last time because he can't bear to be in my mind last time? What if I can't block him out this time?" Harry asked.

"Then Hermione can knee him while we're running the other way?" Draco offered.

Hermione glared at him while the corner of Harry's lips twitched in suppressed laughter. "Can we get serious here? And Draco, that joke's getting old."

"Not really," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Well, if he really does know everything, he'll just try to kill you again," Draco said, nodding his head towards Harry. In a higher and squeakier voice, he added, "'I have to be the one to kill Harry Potter. Leave him to me.' Yes, leave it to him to get killed by a rebounded curse."

Harry and Ginny burst out of laughter at his performance and words. Therefore, the three of them did not notice the irritated expression on Hermione's face.

"You would've thought that for someone who's supposedly the darkest wizard in history and one of the most intelligent people to walk through Hogwarts, he would've realized that if the first time didn't work, the second time wouldn't. But no, he had to try three times, all of which failed. 'Greatest sorcerer in the world' indeed," Draco mocked, rolling his eyes.

Much to Hermione's annoyance, Harry and Ginny continued laughing uncontrollably with Draco soon joining them. She should not be bothered by what they were saying, since it was ... well, true, but somehow, it just irked her to no ends.

"We still haven't come up with a way to prevent him from backing out on us," she reminded them loudly over their laughter.

Gradually, they calmed down, and Ginny asked, "Did you think of a way, Hermione?"

Harry wiped away a tear that had fallen down his cheek from laughing, and Draco was still attempting to hold back the small chuckles.

Ignoring the two boys, Hermione took a deep breath and proposed, "I was thinking ... perhaps we can set milestones for him: Two questions before we leave and two questions after we come back."

Ginny laughed humorlessly. "Will he be satisfied with just four questions?"

"No," Harry and Draco answered in unison.

"Well, we'll give him the choice then. It's either just four questions or none at all," Hermione said, sighing heavily and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Four is plenty of information already, so ..."

"As if Voldemort knows when to stop," Harry scoffed. "He wouldn't be Lord Voldemort if he knows when to stop."

"Will the three of you stop saying his name already?" Draco asked, wincing.

"What? Afraid that Lord Voldemort will Cruciate you when we go back to the future?" Ginny teased.

"Back to the future? Tell me I heard her wrong, Joseph," a fifth voice suddenly spoke up.

With a start, the four of them stood up from their seats and turned towards the portrait hole.

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Somewhere in Time