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Right Place, Wrong Time?	By : Shan84 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 7811 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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
- 3
- 4
- 5
Author Note: Welcome to chapter four! Thank you for reading :)

XXX

Hermione could never understand why the ache of missing someone was always so much easier to bear during the day - compared to night. It's not as if the daytime made her any less alone or any less prone to her own thoughts, theories or worries. For in this time period, despite the occasional but necessary distractions of Tarquin, Valeria and letters from Dumbledore, Hermione felt incredibly alone.

The last time she had felt this lonely was in her first year of Hogwarts. No matter what had happened since then though, Hermione had always had her friends. Friends who had quickly become her very own chosen family. And how Hermione missed her family! Merlin, how she missed Ron! If she got to see Ron again, she promised never to complain about going to a Chudley Cannons game again… she also promised she would never bemoan his obsession with Muggle appliances or the fact that he liked to wear red and orange – despite his brightly coloured hair. Hermione grinned as she remembered the hideous orange tweed jacket he came home with one afternoon not long before she found herself here. He hadn't spoken to her all night after she burst out laughing when he strutted into their small living room, 'modelling' it for her.

How she longed to just talk with Harry and Ginny again. Would they be looking for her right now? Would they be worrying about what had happened to her? Was time passing at the same rate for them as it was for her? Hermione sighed, picking at a loose thread on one of the threadbare cushions on her small settee. She realised that she needed to stop wasting so much energy on this train of thought and concentrate instead on getting back.

Besides, she was sick of the forties. She had no idea how muggles handled this era with the lack of technology – thank goodness for magic, she mused. But not even magic could save her hair. Hermione huffed and ran a hand through the curly mass. She had finally run out of the last of the emergency hair serum that she always kept 'on-hand' in her beaded bag. The serum was a modern muggle brand – it was actually better than sleekeazy's. Hermione's morbid mood over her hair wasn't helped by the fact that when she went and purchased a bottle of sleekeazy's the other day; it was obviously inferior compared to the modern counter-part she used for the Yule Ball, because all it did was turn her hair into an oily mess!

She stood up and walked over to the small mirror that was in the narrow hallway between the bedroom and her lounge and kitchenette. She had start work soon, but didn't feel anywhere near ready as she looked at her hair. Hermione wasn't vain, but she had enjoyed a good two year run without bushy hair. Sighing, she used her fingers to neaten it as best as possible, whilst chastising herself for being so vain. But the hair was a touchy subject – not even Ron was allowed to make fun of it.

Deciding that would have to do, she quickly got dressed in a plain white blouse and a loose navy skirt that fell just below the knees. She absentmindedly wondered if it would be inappropriate to invest in some men's pants. Work would be so much easier if she could wear pants, but women seemed to mainly get around in skirts in this era. Slipping her feet into some low-heeled oxfords, she headed out her door and down the stairs into the shop.

Stepping into the shop she heard a low whistle sound from the register. Looking up, she saw Tarquin jump over several piles of books to obviously come and greet her.

"My, my, my Hermione! Don't let any of those proper lady witches spy you today!" he exclaimed as he sidled up next to her with a wink.

Hermione looked up at Tarquin in confusion. "Is this some sort of joke I'm supposed to be in on?"

Tarquin sighed dramatically and leaned on her. "Don't worry Hermione; I'll see it as my challenge to make you a lady yet!"

"Oh don't listen to him Hermione! He's being crass!" Valeria laughed, as she swished past carrying a pile of new books in her usual purple robes.

"Ahem!" Tarquin began, "A lady shall not leave her residence without stockings!" he announced, whilst waggling his finger, in a voice reminiscent of someone like Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione suddenly looked down and realised that her legs were bare, indeed. In her worries about her hair, she had completely forgotten them. She looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow. "Very funny," she deadpanned.

"I do try my best!" He grinned.

"Well then. I will go change and be back in a minute," Hermione announced and turned to head back up to her room.

"Yes! You better! You squashed cabbage leaf, you disgrace to the noble architecture of these columns, you incarnate insult to the English language… I could pass you off as the Queen of Sheba!"

Hermione turned around and gaped in shock, before a big grin appeared on her face. "What more do you want sir? I washed me face and hands before I come, I did!"

Tarquin's grin broadened before he burst into laughter and performed a mock bow whilst darting off back to the counter. Hermione chuckled and quickly ran back up the stairs – grateful for his humour.

Ducking into her room, she pulled a pair of dark wool stockings on and hurried back to start her day. She was about to go out the door when an incessant tapping caught her attention. She turned and noted Dumbledore's owl, Worzel, at the window. Smiling at the bird, she went and let him in – noting the now friendly hoot the owl now greeted her with. Since she had been corresponding with Dumbledore on quite a regular basis she had become quite friendly with Worzel.

"Hello Worzel, another letter for me then?" she greeted the Owl who held out a small envelope.

Handing him a rather generous owl treat, he gave friendly approval before flying back out the window. Hermione opened and scanned the letter:

Dear Hermione,

I am glad to hear you are settling in at Knights. Valeria says that you are already improving the shop after less than a week.

I was wondering if you would care to meet? I will be in Diagon Alley today to escort some first year students to purchase their Hogwarts supplies.

I will be at the small coffee shop just down from Ollivander's at 9am. They brew a wonderfully strong espresso. The machine is charmed – all the way from Milan and a first in Diagon Alley.

It would be a delight to meet and discuss your findings so far, as well as my own.

Warm regards,

Albus Dumbledore

Hermione checked her watch and realised it was almost 9am. Grabbing her robe and beaded bag, she darted back down the stairs to find Valeria. She finally found her in a corner with her head buried in a book. She looked up and smiled as Hermione approached her.

"Don't mind me; I can't help myself when we get new books," she explained.

Hermione grinned. "That's okay. Dumbledore just owled me to meet up and discuss my project, do you mind if I quickly go meet him? I promise not to be long."

"Of course you can. I know how important your project is," she said, smiling.

"Thank you." Hermione replied and bade her goodbye. Navigating her way through the impossible number of books that still needed sorting in the store she waved at Tarquin who was levitating and sorting some unpacked boxes.

"Where are you off too?" he asked curiously whilst concentrating on the rather heavy looking boxes.

Hermione wrapped her robe around her. "Meeting Dumbledore," she explained.

"Okay, bye," he replied and turned his attention back to his work.

Hermione smiled at him before hurrying out of the shop, desperately wanting to know what Dumbledore had to share with her.

He justified that he was there because he was actually looking for some particular books that Flourish and Blotts and the less reputable dealers in Knockturn Alley didn't have in stock. Tom Riddle stood across the alley from the small, second-hand book shop wondering if it would be too early to go inside. He had to smirk; it was pure coincidence ending up in that bookshop last week. He had never paid it much attention before – always passing it up for the aforementioned book shops, but he had to admit – whilst the shop seemed to be in complete anarchy – it did actually seem to have a good range.

Of course, he then had to run into that bothersome little witch… Hermione Edwards. Yes, what a coincidence that was. Tom rolled his eyes in memory of her hiding from him. He had seen her from the corner of his eye when she approached his aisle, flinched and proceeded to hide behind the books. Manticores mating, indeed! She was about as obvious as one - that was for sure.

He had to admit, reluctantly, that the girl had been in his thoughts at least more than once in the last week. Her rather curious behaviour coupled with her supposed 'project' with Dumbledore and how evasive she seemed to be when it came to discussing herself had piqued his interest. He justified that he was only interested because at the moment he really had nothing better to do. Which reminded him, he really needed to call his Knights together again. Even though he currently thought that the Knights weren't really a worthwhile pursuit at the moment. Technically it was better for him to lay low, perhaps even slowly disappear from everyone – even his little gang…

Therefore, everything was a lot different to Hogwarts, where there always seemed to be something to work towards – like the Chamber of Secrets, his heritage and the development of the Knights of Walpurgis. These days, he spent most of his time reading up on the places he intended to travel to. Excitement pooled in the pit of his stomach at the thought of the knowledge he could gather from places such as Egypt or parts of Asia, such as India or even Cambodia. England really was just a small spectrum of the magical world.

Just as he was pondering this, the door to the little book shop opened and the recent subject of his thoughts leapt out into the morning crowd and headed off down the road. She had a set look of determination on her face, and he gladly noted that she didn't even notice him standing across the Alley. He wondered where she was going. Perhaps she was just running an errand or something similar… Well then, Tom reasoned, perhaps he could just follow her, find out what she was doing and then try to talk to her where there wouldn't be distractions such as work or overly enthusiastic Hufflepuffs.

Tom slipped into the crowd, always staying well back. He snickered, she was easy to keep track of, given that hair of hers - which seemed to be even crazier since the last time he had seen her. Honestly, why didn't she try to do anything with it? Most girls would have it styled neatly. Not that he even cared about that sort of thing… though Tom knew that a perfect image was a wonderful way of deceiving people; because to him, the high majority of people were naturally stupid and superficial.

However, from what he had gleaned from his brief two meetings she didn't seem to be swept away by the 'Tom Riddle charm' that so many other girls had fallen for in the past. In fact, the way she looked at him was like… well, it was as though she was disgusted by him. Tom clenched his jaw at the memory of the look she gave at the thought of even touching his hand. He barely knew her, so what was her problem? Yet she seemed perfectly fine around others such as Burke (well, until he tried to swindle more money out of her) and that annoying Hufflepuff Skeeter.

He soon realised that she was entering a small café. Oh, well maybe she was just getting her morning coffee… she did, after all, look as though she just rolled out of bed. Tom chastised himself for even bothering to follow her. But maybe he could work this to his advantage? As he discretely observed her through the window, he realised that she appeared to be searching for someone, as she currently stood on her tip-toes trying to look over the current crowd that was milling in the café. He watched as her face lit up, and then allowed his line of vision to follow hers… Of course, he sneered as he watched her quickly walk over and greet Dumbledore…

This annoyed Tom immensely, as he couldn't just approach her now. Dumbledore would be immediately suspicious of him – like always – and would make sure that Tom never found out her secrets. Merlin that old idiot was annoying! It was always as though he could see right through Tom, even though he always managed to cover his tracks impeccably. And wasn't it lucky that Tom had the self-preservation to cover his tracks well? As he was sure that Dumbledore would have removed him from Hogwarts if he had had the opportunity. He felt relief knowing that he had made it through his education without the old coot interfering too much.

He observed Hermione sit down and gesture enthusiastically to Dumbledore and his cup of coffee. Merlin, Tom thought, rolling his eyes. This girl was like an open book with her emotions. Perhaps this could work in his favour; he wondered… after all, he had been practicing legilimency and was starting to become confident in his learning of the craft. Perhaps she could be his first victim?

Yes, perhaps he would stick around and wait for her little meeting to end with the old coot…

Hermione stepped into the café and was immediately hit with the delicious smell of coffee and warm breakfasts. Every morning before work – before she ended up in the forties - she would stop in at her own favourite little café and pick up a coffee to get her started in the morning. It had become a habitual routine for her – something she actually realised she missed.

The café was quite busy so Hermione had to step up on her toes to try and look for Dumbledore. Luckily the man wasn't hard to miss. She almost spotted him immediately, as he sat at a rather small table wearing bright red robes with a silver trim. Smiling at him, she quickly walked over to him – noticing he had already ordered for her.

"Ah! Hermione, I see Worzel was able to deliver the message in time. Please take a seat."

"Hello Professor, thank you for inviting me. I must admit I didn't realise how much I missed a morning coffee until stepping in here," Hermione replied conversationally as she shucked her robe off, the café being quite warm already.

"I daresay you've been too distracted to think of such a small thing. Though, I think – even in times of crisis – it is important to remember the little things that we enjoy the most. I hope you don't mind, but I ordered for you – you simply must try the double espresso, I hear it is their special."

Hermione grinned how Dumbledore always managed to dole out small pieces of advice. "No, that's fine, thank you. I must admit, I'm surprised you are still helping students get supplies so close to Hogwarts going back," she commented as she blew on the hot coffee.

"Yes, rather special cases, really… just a few children mind you. It was a case of convincing the parents that it was a good idea to send their children away. You see, many of the fathers fought in the war and still obviously bear the scars and certain suspicions. It's quite understandable that they didn't want their children to leave them."

Hermione nodded in sympathetic understanding. "Of course! The muggle world war only ended a couple of years ago… I hope it doesn't sound insensitive, but I guess I am somewhat a bit far-removed from what is essentially 'history' to me."

"No, of course not," Dumbledore replied, before conveniently casting a muffliato around them. "My apologies. This café is so small; I don't think our neighbours would understand our conversation exactly…” he explained merrily, before taking a sip of coffee.

"Thank you," Hermione said with a faint blush on her cheeks – she had to be a bit more careful! For goodness sake, she was an Unspeakable in training! She should be more careful.

"So I was wondering whether you had managed to make any more progress with that book. I know we have had brief conversations via Owl, but sometimes talking in person helps much more."

"Well I've finally been able to translate the book. For some reason it took me ages… I have to admit that I have become a bit rusty on runic translation since school finished," Hermione began babbling excitedly. "Of course, who would think such a book would have so much useless information! Especially a book that calls itself 'Volatile'," she snorted, "Though I think I have found something that might help."

Dumbledore's eyes danced with amusement at Hermione's babbling. "Oh yes, and?"

"Well, the book shows signs that you can utilise Runes as part of summoning magic." Hermione's voice became a little less confident. "Perhaps if I could work out the identity of the spirit – or whatever it is – who sent me here, I could… erm, perhaps… contact them?" she almost whispered the last part.

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I must admit Hermione that I never thought you'd go in the direction of summoning magic… Do you understand how dangerous that sort of magic is?"

Hermione's eyes widened, suddenly worried that Dumbledore disapproved of her. "Oh no, Professor! I am not familiar with that type of magic, which is why I wanted to talk to you about it! You see… how I ended up here… well, the colleague I was with – I have no idea where they ended up by the way – was using some sort of summoning magic on the Veil. He said he was only using it to try and summon objects, but, oh, I just thought… and then when I read the book and saw that section I wondered if it was linked."

His eyes immediately softened again. "That is incredibly dangerous. As whoever sent you here didn't reveal their name, we have no idea… we could essentially summon the wrong spirit and… well I hope I don't need to explain how disastrous that could be," he explained to her.

Hermione nodded. "I know, and that's why I feel as though I have hit some sort of dead end," she sighed and frowned.

Dumbledore nodded and patted her hand in a comforting gesture. "I know you want to go back to your own time, but to be honest, the reason I asked you here today is because I have become quite fascinated with your predicament and have been doing a bit of reading myself. You see, when you contacted me, I was initially worried about disrupting the time line. I do believe you have heard the muggle term 'Butterfly Effect'?"

Hermione nodded, eyes bright in anticipation, waiting for Dumbledore to continue what he was saying.

"However, as I go more and more over what the person in the Veil told you, and I know I've said this before, but I am starting to strongly believe my suspicions that it isn't time travel."

Hermione stared at him. "So what of the book then? If the summoning spells aren't supposed to help me, what in there will?"

"Well, bear with me… but the book talks of Ancient Rune magic. There have been theories over the centuries that the Veil is intrinsically linked to those who initially created what is the language of Ancient Runes."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "Are you serious? With all due respect, Sir, this has never been publicised."

"Yes, well that's perhaps why the Ministry is still stumped by the Veil… and I assume from your story that they are still researching its properties well into the future."

"But, Sir, you should tell someone this! This could solve the mystery of the Veil!"

Dumbledore stared intently at Hermione. "Will it really? What's to say that the Ministry working this out would actually solve anything? Maybe we need to save some knowledge for when we pass on ourselves."

Hermione gaped in shock. "But this could help me get back!" she exclaimed. Suddenly she couldn't help but feel the slight disappointment that Dumbledore had only waited until now to tell her.

He looked at her and seemed to pick up on her thoughts. "I apologise for only telling you now. My findings are still very new and have only a very small evidence base. I'm afraid my methodology is still quite crude as well. However, I have done some reading and much writing on the topic. The reason I called you here was to give you my work that I have completed so far."

Hermione blushed, immediately feeling bad for her negative thoughts about him. "I – I…" she began, but Dumbledore merely waved his hand.

"Please, Hermione, you don't need to apologise. Your situation is rather strange, and we all know that strange matters can often cause us to react in odd ways." He smiled. "But I want you to read these notes. I know I can't tell you what to do, you are an adult after all, but it is most important to at least have a thorough knowledge of what you are dealing with. And I just don't think that summoning magic is the key."

Hermione nodded and looked down. She knew summoning magic was known as slightly dark but she didn't know of anything else that might help her. Plus, if that dolt Zacharias Smith managed to make the Veil react the way it did, surely Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age could actually do it properly. But Dumbledore was right. Her knowledge base wasn't enough yet. Dejected, she looked down at her coffee. How arrogant of her to think that she could even entertain the idea of summoning someone… it just, well, it seemed like it would be the missing link to getting back and she was desperate. She heard a rustling and looked to see Dumbledore pulling something from his robes.

"These are my notes so far," he announced. "I apologise in advance for their rudimentary nature."

"Thank you, Professor." Hermione smiled, taking the rather thick parchment roll from him.

"My pleasure. Now please, tell me, what do you think of this wonderful coffee?"

Hermione was waving off Dumbledore as they both left the coffee shop, with Dumbledore off to visit another friend before helping the first years whilst Hermione really had to head back to work. Therefore she really wasn't watching where she was going when she felt herself walk straight into someone.

"Ooomph!" She suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her to stop her from over-balancing and toppling over.

Steadying herself against the person who caught her, she immediately began apologising until she looked up at said-person and realised that she had walked directly into Tom Riddle. She immediately pulled away and blushed furiously, wondering why she had such awful luck these days.

"Miss Edwards," He greeted her and nodded, trying to hide his obvious smirk.

"Mr Riddle. Sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was going," she replied.

"It's not a problem," he responded.

"Well, I really have to get back to work. I'm already running quite late. Goodbye Mr Riddle."

She went to walk off, really hoping that was the last she would see of him but when she felt his hand on her shoulder she closed her eyes in frustration. Of course he couldn't just leave her alone! And why was he touching her? He just made her so uncomfortable! She turned around quickly, shrugging his hand off of her shoulder in the process. He gave her one of his infuriating smirks that despite only meeting him twice, she had already seen him do too many times to count.

"Sorry," he apologised, holding both of his hands up in mock surrender. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't." I already have a bad feeling you're about to make my day worse.

"Oh. You said you were going back to your work, yes?" he asked.

Hermione simply nodded.

"I'll accompany you then. I am actually after a book that you might be able to help me with," he said, or more, ordered her.

Hermione didn't really know what to say. If she said 'no' it would draw even more unnecessary attention on her… Today was obviously an accident, she reasoned, though if she made her distaste too obvious to him, there was always that niggling worry that he wouldn't leave her alone.

"I suppose," she replied tersely and quickly began walking. Unfortunately, due to their height differences, her idea of 'power walking' seemed to be his idea of 'normal walking'.

"So how have you been settling in?" he asked conversationally.

"Fine thanks." Wanting to steer the conversation away from herself she added, "So what sort of book are you after?"

"I was hoping you'd have a couple of books actually. I'm specifically interested to see if there's a one on the history of magic in India."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "Well, I can't recall seeing anything on India… but of course, that doesn't mean anything. I've only been there a week after all."

"Yes, of course. Where did you come from before ending up in Diagon Alley?" he asked.

Hermione scowled. Merlin! He just didn't give up! Hermione couldn't get over how annoyingly nosey he was.

"England," she replied shortly.

He chuckled. "Well I figured as much. Which part do you come from?"

Hermione thought for a second. "Durham," she answered. Well, her Grandmother had lived there so at least she knew the place in case he asked further questions. "Why are you interested in the history of magic in India?" she quickly asked, her voice bordering on a tone that Harry would have described as 'Hermione-ish'.

"Because I think there is a lot to learn from other cultures," he replied.

Hermione mentally rolled her eyes at his neutral and boring response… What were you expecting? Something along the lines of 'It's all part of my grand plan to take over the universe'…?

"The British Muggle Government just gave India and Pakistan independence," Hermione randomly announced.

"You follow muggle politics?" Tom asked with a slight hint of incredulity.

"Of course I do. Don't you?" Of course I know you don't care, you arrogant prat.

"To be honest I do hear about what's going on, but it doesn't really interest me."

Hermione clicked her tongue in annoyance. Surprise, surprise! Lord Voldemort overlooks the value of something… "Whether the magical world likes it or not, muggle politics plays some influence on what magical ministries do," she announced.

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "You think the British Ministry of Magic is influenced by the Muggle Government here? Because I would have to disagree with you."

"No it's different in England… we're too much of a developed state – both in a magical and muggle sense. But in states such as India, where they are still developing – so to speak – I can guarantee that the new muggle policies on independence will also influence magical ones."

"And what sort of policies will change?" he asked in a disbelieving tone.

"Well, better equality between Indians and the British for one… the British can stop treating them like human house elves," Hermione huffed indignantly. "Anyway, I can guarantee that India is on its way to becoming its own state one day – completely separate from Britain."

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "That would never happen. Britain would be stupid to give up a country as useful as India," he replied.

Hermione shook her head. "It's not about that! It's about giving the Indian people back their country. Letting them run it their way – for themselves."

"But it's not in the interest of the British government to do that," he spoke to her as though she was a naïve little girl, which annoyed her to no end.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of Liberalism? You should read up on it, it's gaining momentum," she said condescendingly.

"You can spout your idealist theories all you like… everyone pretends to care about liberalism, but deep down, we are all realists. It's all about power and security."

Hermione snorted. "Speak for yourself."

They continued walking towards the book store, Hermione felt completely irritated at He-Who-Must-Be-Annoying who was currently smirking as though he had won their debate. Of course she shouldn't expect anything more from the likes of him. The man who went on to try and take over the wizarding world… who killed- Hermione faltered in her steps and stopped walking altogether. He is a murderer! Her mind screamed. She felt nauseous as her mind swam with terrible memories. This was the man who would kill Harry's parents, had already set a Basilisk on Hogwarts and caused a group of children to be thrown into a war that they shouldn't have had to fight in. He tried to kill her best friend numerous times! And here she was having a stupid debate with him on political theory…

Gods! What was she thinking? She shouldn't even associate with him at all! Who cared if it was rude? What did she owe him? Absolutely nothing!

"Miss Edwards?" She heard him calling her name. But she didn't want to answer him. She looked up into his dark eyes. He was staring at her with a calculating expression on his face.

"Are you okay?" he then asked. Hermione had to admire the concerned look on his face. He could win awards for his acting skills. No wonder he had managed to fool so many teachers and students in his school days. But she could see it in his eyes; he didn't care. The cold, calculating glint was not interested in making her feel better, it wanted to know why she felt that way and how it could be used in the future… She took in a shuddering breath and continued looking at him.

"Are you okay?" he repeated and this time placed his hand on one of her shoulders, causing her to flinch. He was not allowed to touch her like that!

She moved away from his grasp and exhaled a shuddering breath. "I'm fine," she finally responded shortly.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. I just thought of something – I'm fine. Don't worry yourself." She shrugged her shoulders and continued walking, not waiting for him.

He quickly caught up to her – of course – and walked beside her silently. Hermione wasn't bothered to talk. She just wanted to hurry back to the shop where there she at least had Tarquin and Valeria to bounce off. Perhaps she could go out the back and even do some inventory? Then she would be able to avoid him completely.

"What's that you're carrying?" he asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence, and pointed to her hands. Hermione suddenly realised she was still carrying the thick roll of Dumbledore's notes.

"Oh it's nothing really." She replied quickly and put the parchment away in her beaded bag. She noticed Tom's eyebrows rose in curiosity at her beaded bag. Yes, this bag held a library that helped defeat you, you arrogant sod!

"Is it part of your project?"

Hermione scowled. "Yes. That is why I'm here, after all."

"What is your project about – I don't believe you've said yet."

"No I haven't," Hermione answered, and wanting to leave it at just that. However his curiosity seemed like it would become her greatest enemy. "It's related to the Study of Ancient Runes."

Tom studied her. "And you want Dumbledore – a Transfiguration teacher – to help you with Ancient Runes?" he asked, and Hermione did pick up the subtle derision in his voice at the mention of Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore may be a master of Transfiguration, but he is also an expert at many other subjects," she replied disapprovingly.

"He'll be quite busy when school goes back."

"He can still help me, if that's what you're insinuating," she replied imperiously.

"No actually, I was going to offer my help. I got an 'O' in Ancient Runes. In fact, my Ancient Runes score was the highest Hogwarts had seen in well… decades."

Hermione mentally snorted. Oh, how kind of you Lord Voldemort! I would absolutely love to take you up on your selfless offer! "No, thank you for your offer; but I feel quite confident with my current workload," she replied instead. "Plus, it's a bit different to what was studied at school." So take that!

Tom didn't say anything, but Hermione was sure that she saw his jaw clench at her somewhat condescending comment. At this point in time she had stopped caring. The constant on-edge emotions she felt when he was around meant that she suddenly felt completely exhausted.

Thankfully, they were back at the shop. Hermione exhaled rather loudly as Tom – ever the 'gentlemen' – opened the door for her and she quickly ducked into the shop, where a sense of relief flooded through her.

"Ah you're back!" Tarquin exclaimed as she entered. "Oh, hello, Tom!" he cheerfully greeted and Hermione had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Hello Tarquin," Tom replied from behind Hermione.

Hermione grimaced. She was feeling completely exhausted after having to 'entertain' the young Voldemort for less than ten minutes. Not to mention she was pretty much back to square one with her research on getting home.

"Are you okay Hermione? You look a little pale, dear." Valeria had appeared out of nowhere and was now standing in front of, immediately putting a hand on her forehead in a motherly gesture.

Hermione gave a small smile. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

"Oh darling, did you get some bad news about your project?" she asked with concern.

Damn you for being able to see right through me, Valeria… Please, please don't ask me in front of him.

"No, no, just a lot more to think about now… Professor Dumbledore has really gone above and beyond for me."

Valeria gave Hermione a warm smile and squeezed her hand. "Now don't let it get too much, will you? It's not as though the project is life or death."

If only you knew, Hermione thought.

"Who's your friend then?" Valeria asked, her attention turning to Tom standing behind her. Friend? I'd rather have a sleep-over and paint my nails with Draco Malfoy!

Tarquin joined the trio. "This is Tom Riddle, we actually went to school together. Tom, this is my Aunt Valeria I was telling you about. She owns the shop." He introduced the two, saving Hermione from the task.

"It's lovely to meet you," Tom said smoothly. "You have a very comprehensive collection here – I'm sorry I didn't discover the shop sooner."

Hermione wanted to throw up. What a suck up!

"Thank you," Valeria smiled warmly. "I'm sure once Hermione sorts it out we'll probably find books that have been missing for decades. Who knows the full extent of what's in here."

"Speaking of which, I'm just going to go put my things away and I think I'll go do some inventory, if that's okay," Hermione interrupted, needing to walk away from a certain someone who was standing far too close behind her.

"Of course." Valeria smiled, she then winked conspiratorially at Tom. "Hermione has made such an improvement to the store in less than a week!"

"Actually, I was hoping for Miss Edward's help in finding a book. Would that be okay before she started inventory?" Tom asked in his best innocent tone. Hermione stiffened slightly.

"Oh of course! Hermione, you don't mind do you, darling? You seem to have everything set in your own way… I wouldn't even know where to start!" Valeria laughed.

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Of course, I'll be right back." She gave her best smile, but was screaming on the inside.

She quickly walked off, careful to save the stomping for when she was out of sight and ear shot. Opening the door to the office, she was tempted to slam it once she entered. Leaning against the shut door she let out a shuddering breath and groaned, running a hand through her hair and effectively ruining any basic semblance of neatness.

Why did she suddenly get the feeling that nothing with Tom Riddle was going be accidental now?
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Right Place, Wrong Time?