Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Somewhere in Time	By : serpentinred Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 64471 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 42
- 43
- 44
A/N: Happy New Year! This chapter came a bit later than when I've hoped, but at least, it's not too late, compared to previous chapters, and I do want to post this before I fly off to Thailand ;). This chapter is not grammar beta-ed yet and will be replaced as soon as I get it back from my beta. Special thanks to Nerys for going over the flow and logic. Many thanks to those of you who read, rated, and especially those of you who reviewed: Mekom, Aviendha, and Fleur K.!

Review replies can be found here: http://serp-replies.livejournal.com/12193.html

~-0-~

Chapter 43

Pain.

She felt as if she had been ran over by a raging manticore and then thrown at the Whomping Willow. She tried to move, but the moment she did, the pain increased tenfold.

A soothing, female voice spoke to her in German when she stirred, and someone supported her while holding a glass up to her lips.

She wanted to open her eyes and check to make sure she wasn't taking in some kind of harmful potion, but she couldn't. She didn't even have the strength to speak out and protest while the liquid was poured down her throat. Once it made its way into her system, she drifted back into sleep.

The next time she woke up, she felt much better. At least she no longer felt like all her bones were broken. Blinking her eyes a couple of times to clear away the blurriness, she surveyed her surroundings. Much to her relief, they were back at Dietfried's house, but there was no sign of the German-speaking lady who had helped her while she had been half unconscious. The thought of Ernsta being the person who had fed her the potion nearly made her snort, even though it wasn't really a laughable matter. She highly doubted Ernsta would treat her kindly, and the vile woman would sooner feed her poisons than healing concoctions.

Stiffly, Hermione turned her head to the side and found Ginny in the bed next to hers still asleep. A single candle sat on the table against the wall across from them, providing minimal light for the room, and the darkness outside the window indicated that it was night. Hermione wondered how long she had been knocked out until worry crashed down on her like a tidal wave. Were the boys alright?

Before she could get herself out of the bed, the door opened, and an unfamiliar lady entered the room, carrying a tray of potions in her hand. The woman said something in German, and though Hermione could not understand, she knew the stranger had to be the one who had been caring for her while she had been drifting in and out of consciousness.

The woman placed the tray on the table in between the two beds and stuffed a bottle of potion in Hermione's hands. Hermione eyed the liquid for a few seconds while she sniffed at it before she realized how silly of an action it was. If the woman wanted to poison her, it would've been far easier doing that while Hermione was unconscious, and the concoction she had taken before did help her. So, she drank the potion without further ado.

"Are the others alright?" Hermione asked as she placed the empty bottle back onto the tray.

The woman gazed at her, her kind face troubled, and Hermione realized that she probably didn't understand English. Biting her lower lip, she pushed herself out of bed but was prevented from doing so by the woman who started chiding her in German.

"But the others … Tom … Harry, Draco … I have to check on them," Hermione said, stubbornness creasing her forehead into a frown.

Nonetheless, it was useless, since the woman could not understand what she was saying.

Frustration nearly made her scream, and she would've done so if Ginny hadn't chosen this moment to stir in her bed. The German lady rushed over to Ginny's bed, and using this opportunity, Hermione pushed herself out of the bed and attempted to make a run for it. The moment she tried to take a step forward, she crashed down to the floor, dizziness taking over her body.

The stranger let out a gasp and hurried over to help her up, and at the same moment, the door opened.

"Fräulein," Dietfried said in surprise before saying something in German to the foreign witch as he hobbled over to where Hermione had fallen. "You mustn't overwork yourself, Fräulein. You've been hurt by a very dark curse, and it will take some time before you completely heal."

"Tom, Harry, Draco … are they alright?" Hermione asked, looking at Dietfried with worry.

"Yes, yes, Fräulein. They are resting now with the young man you've saved from the cave," Dietfried reassured her. "Please do get back in bed. You may see them tomorrow morning."

With the help of the stranger, Dietfried hoisted Hermione back in bed. As Dietfried and the German lady piled blankets on top of her, she glanced towards Ginny and found out that she was still unconscious.

"Ginny … is she alright? Why isn't she awake?" Hermione asked, worried.

"She's alright, Fräulein," Dietfried replied, strengthening his grip around her arm. "Each person reacts differently to the curse and healing potions. She might wake a bit later, but no lasting harm has been done to her." He turned his head towards the German lady. "This is one of two Healers in our town, Emiline. She doesn't speak English … Our other Healer who knows English, Leopold, got called over to the town across the forest …"

She relaxed the moment she learned that Ginny and the others were safe. Though she tried her best to listen to what Dietfried was saying, she soon drifted out of consciousness again.

The next time she woke up, it was still night time, but she felt a lot better. At least her head no longer felt like it was being stampeded upon by centaurs.

She hoped that was what Umbridge would go through. If she did not get to return to the future, perhaps she could make sure it would happen? After all, the timeline had already been changed, so one more little change would not make too big of a difference.

The world would not miss anything with the disappearance of a pink toad.

Tentatively, Hermione pushed herself out of the bed and found Ginny still asleep. The redhead, nonetheless, seemed to be in a better condition.

Placing both feet on the floor, Hermione tested out her strength and was glad to find that she could stand up without toppling over, despite that annoying lack of energy. She felt as if she had been thrown through that whacked up spell Tom had used to send them to Germany again.

Taking a deep sigh, she walked out and stumbled towards the room Harry and Draco were staying in.

"Granger …" Draco said, cracking open one eyelid and glancing at her as she sat down in the chair next to the door.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, looking every bit as tired and battered up as Draco.

"Horrible," she answered with a weak smile, "but better than when I first woke up."

"Touché," Draco muttered, closing his eyes again. "Reckon the spell had been cast by Riddle? After all, he seems to be rather good at putting us through these 'Let me save you by throwing you into a dragon's nest' kind of tactics."

Harry snorted despite of himself, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oops. My apologies, Granger. I forgot you were snogging him on regular basis," Draco drawled.

Hermione's face turned bright red while Harry threw a pillow at the Slytherin.

"Oomph," Draco grunted when it hit him straight in the face.

"Hush, Malloy," Harry said.

Draco picked up the pillow and placed it under his head, all the while giving Harry an annoyed look.

"Ugh, I'm never going to get used to this losing all your energy routine," he muttered with a disgusted look on his face.

"Do you really think it was Riddle who helped us out there?" Harry asked Hermione.

Biting her lower lip, Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so. I thought he'd fallen unconscious from the curse, too."

"That's what Dietfried said," said Harry, pushing himself to a sitting position with some difficulty. "But he's also the one who's recovering the fastest, according to Dietfried."

"Dietfried did say that each person responds differently to the spell and the potions," Hermione reasoned.

"Probably because he has more experience with dark spells than the rest of us combined," Draco muttered.

The door opened again, and this time, Ginny appeared.

"Oh, you're awake," she commented, a soft smile appearing on her face when she saw Harry safe.

"How are you feeling, Ginny?" Harry asked as she sat down in the chair next to Hermione's.

"Loads better," she replied. After a short pause, she asked, "Who saved us?"

"I have no idea," Harry answered, shaking his head. "We were just talking about it … and we doubt it's Riddle."

"I don't think it's him either," Ginny said. She frowned, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Do you think it's Dumbledore?"

"If it were Dumbledore, why did he leave right afterwards? He would've stayed and talked to us, wouldn't he?" Harry asked.

"We don't know if he stayed or not," Ginny replied. "Maybe he had something important to do and only had enough time to save us."

"But it was a dark spell," Draco reminded them.

"Just because he doesn't use it frequently, doesn't mean he doesn't know darker curses," said Ginny.

In the end, they could not come up with a concrete answer, so they could only assume that Dumbledore or some other kind-hearted wizard helped them out, though that in itself sounded strange, since the curse that was used on them and the trolls was a dark one.

When their discussion came to a dead end, Hermione excused herself, causing Draco to raise an eyebrow. Without waiting for their comments, she exited the room, her cheeks a faint pink color.

The pros and cons of letting them know about what is going on between Tom and me.

At the foot of the stairs, she saw Dietfried, who greeted her with a grin.

"Good evening, Fräulein. How are you feeling?" Dietfried asked.

"A lot better, thank you," she replied.

"You are down here to see Herr Riddle, I assume?" he asked.

Biting her lower lip, Hermione nodded before she quickly added, "And the young man we've saved from the trolls … is he all right?"

"Yes, yes. He's recovering, though that injury to his leg might take some time to heal," Dietfried answered.

"And … Tom … is he all right?" Hermione asked.

Though Harry had commented that Tom was recovering faster than the rest of them, she still wanted to make sure.

"Yes, I daresay, he's recovering quicker than the rest of you. Just this morning, I saw him sitting at the table, writing a letter," Dietfried replied.

"Writing a letter?" Hermione inquired, raising her eyebrows.

Dietfried nodded.

"Did he say who he was writing to?" Hermione pressed on.

He looked at Hermione strangely and answered, "No, he didn't."

Hermione frowned. Who could Tom be writing to? She doubted his followers really cared about his well-being, and Tom didn't seem like the type that would write back just to tell them he was safe and sound. After thanking Dietfried, she continued on to Tom's room. When she reached the door, she was still nowhere near the answer, since she had no clues at all, and she doubted Tom would tell. Nonetheless, she stored that piece of information away in the back of her head.

Just in case.

Tom looked up from the book he was reading when the door opened. Hermione opened her mouth and was about to say something but was stopped when he placed a finger on his lips, signaling for her to keep quiet. He then pushed himself out of bed and pulled her out of the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

"Nothing, except that annoying bloke you risked our lives to save," Tom answered with a sigh.

"What's wrong with him?" she revised her question.

"He won't stop talking," Tom replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He finally just fell asleep. If he hears that his 'savior'—" He smirked at the word. "—is here, he would talk both of our ears off."

Hermione tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows, wondering if she should mention that he loved to hear himself talk, too, but in the end, she decided against it. She doubted he would take that very well, and at the moment, she wasn't in the best condition to run for her health.

"How … are you feeling?" she asked instead.

He gazed at her for a moment. For some reason, the way he was staring at her caused a blush to appear on her cheeks, and she looked downwards.

"Better … thank you," he replied.

She glanced upwards and found a faint smile at the corners of his lips. She quickly looked away again, mentally cursing how easy it was for her cheeks to turn red.

"Are you still feeling dizzy?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No … not anymore. It seems like Emiline's potions are working."

Tom nodded and fell silent.

Hermione glanced at him and found his eyes still on her. Clearing her throat softly, she decided to change the topic.

"Did you see who saved us from the trolls?"

"No," he replied.

Hermione looked at him silently. His answer was logical; the way he delivered it sounded like he was telling the truth; and his expression was blank, as it usually was. But for some reason, she could not shake away the feeling that there was something … off.

Tom raised an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face, when he noticed her gaze on him. "Granger, we were all knocked unconscious by that spell. If you have no idea who saved us, how would I know? Besides, it's a bit ridiculous trying to hide that kind of information from you, don't you think?"

She dropped her gaze. However, his words did nothing to alleviate that feeling of being lied to at all. If anything, they just made her more suspicious, especially after what Dietfried told her. She wondered if the letter was still in the room … if only she could check the room and see …

"Is the young man we saved all right?" she asked, changing the subject again. If she played her cards right, the young man could be her ticket to finding information about whom Tom was writing to.

"He's talking," Tom replied offhandedly as if that were enough to indicate that the young man was fine. "Nonstop."

"That still doesn't mean that he's safe," she argued.

When she made a move towards the door, however, Tom stopped her.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to see if he's all right," Hermione said.

"That's the Healer's responsibility, and I'm not going to let you wake him up so he can start annoying me again," said Tom.

"Well, that's news to me. You don't seem to be extremely annoyed when those Slytherins around you chat nonstop," Hermione snapped.

"Because they're talking with one another and not to me," Tom answered.

"Oh right. Keeping up that innocent young man façade in front of strangers now, are we?" Hermione sneered.

He did not answer and raised his eyebrow at her, looking at her as if he had just seen her for the first time. Without saying another word, Hermione pushed open the door and entered the room. Much to her surprise, the young man was awake and was quite handsome after he had been cleaned up.

His dark brown hair was still kind of messy, perhaps because he had been sleeping just a few minutes ago. His eyes were sky blue (which momentarily made Hermione think of Ron) and twinkled in the dim light given off by the candles. In contrast to the brooding atmosphere that surrounded Tom when he was not talking, the young man gave people an impression of cheerfulness.

"Oh," he said, sitting up in his bed. "Hermione—er—Miss Granger—"

"Hello," she said, an apologetic smile on her face. "Did we wake you up?"

"No, no," the young man replied, running a hand through his dark locks. "I couldn't really fall into a deep sleep …"

"Do you feel better?" she asked, careful to not move her head while she looked around the room; the suspect was still standing right behind her after all.

"Yes," he answered. "Thank you for saving me."

"Oh … don't mention it," she said. "I'm sure anyone would've done the same thing if they were in our position."

A snort behind her told her otherwise, but she wisely ignored it.

"Yes … but it was still extremely brave of you," he said.

The admiration on his face made Hermione mildly awkward, but nonetheless, a faint blush and small smile appeared on her face.

"You don't have an accent," she commented.

She narrowed her eyes when she saw a folded piece of paper on the table next to Tom's bed. But how could she read it without Tom or the young man noticing? Was that the letter Tom had been writing that morning?

"Oh, I'm not German," the young man answered brightly.

"No?" Hermione asked in genuine surprise.

"No, I'm from London," he replied.

"As interested as you are in his life story, Hermione, I do believe the Healer advised him to rest as much as he could in order for his wounds to heal," Tom interrupted before Hermione could continue asking. "And I do believe you would have received the same exact orders, too."

Without waiting for the young man or Hermione to protest, Tom pulled her out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"That was unnecessary," Hermione argued, even more irritated because she hadn't gotten the chance to even find out if that paper on the table was the letter.

Did he find out why she wanted to go into his room and that was why he pulled her away? Did he realize she had wanted to find out what was written on that letter?

"Oh?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. "I do recall hearing that crash just last night when you tried to get out of bed, Granger. If you want to remain crippled for the rest of your life, feel free to continue walking about."

His words took her by surprise, and she stared at him for a moment as she digested this new information, wondering why Emiline or Dietfried had not mentioned this, before she retorted, "And why doesn't that apply to you?"

"Because someone's standing here arguing with me," he snapped.

Her mouth clamped shut, and without another word, she went up the stairs as fast as her still weak limbs could manage. Ginny looked up in alarm when she threw the door open. For a moment, Hermione's temper was slightly reined in, glad to see Ginny back in bed and not in the danger of getting crippled.

"What happened?" Ginny asked.

"The Heir of Morons," Hermione bit out as she closed the door behind her and threw herself in bed.

And she was actually worried about that git. Him. As if he deserved her worry.

Ginny appeared even more surprised, but that did not stop an expression of amusement from appearing on her face.

It was a long time afterwards, but when Hermione finally calmed herself down and after she warned Ginny to not walk around too much, a question floated up to the surface of her mind.

Why did Tom know so much about the curse?

As much as Hermione tried, she could not convince herself that she was being paranoid. Later on that night, she made it a point to ask Emiline through Dietfried's translations about the results of being placed under the curse. However, the Healer replied that she did not know too much about it, and it was by luck and chance that she was any help at all. Hermione's suspicions grew when the Healer seemed surprised to hear that there was a risk of becoming crippled if they didn't rest enough. This made her even more certain that Tom had lied when he had said that he did not know who had saved them from the trolls.

She gritted her teeth, vowing to find more proof about this before confronting Tom about it.

The true question, however, lingered at the front of her mind: Why was he keeping the identity of their savior a secret?

~-0-~

The danger of being crippled was most likely passed by the next morning, since Tom did not say anything when she appeared at the dining table. Judging by the conditions of the rest of the people, they felt just as recovered as she was, though still more tired than normal.

The weariness, however, could not be seen in the young man they had saved from the trolls. He was every bit as cheerful as she had seen him while he was in his room, and he nearly knocked over his glass of water when Hermione entered the room and sat down directly across from him.

"Do you feel better? You looked tired last night," he asked.

"Yes. Thanks … er … I still don't know your name yet," Hermione said with a smile.

Tom's hand, which had been reaching out for a glass of water, stopped in midair for a split second before continuing as if nothing happened.

"Nicholas, madam. Nicholas Lockhart-Lovegood," he answered.

Harry, Draco, and Ginny all stared at him before sharing a look with one another. Hermione's mouth dropped open, and excitement appeared on her face.

"Nicholas Lockhart-Lovegood? As in the Nicholas Lockhart-Lovegood? The same one who wrote Creatures of the Dark and Light?" Hermione asked, her eyes bright.

The sound of glass cracking caught all of their attentions, and they turned towards the source just in time to see Tom casually pull out his wand and fixed his glass as if nothing happened, his expression still one of calm aloofness.

"You've read it?" Nicholas asked, turning back to Hermione and a pleased grin appearing on his face.

"Yes! Of course I did! It's brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed, promptly making Tom roll his eyes and Harry spray his mouthful of milk all over Draco.

"Evans," Draco groaned, wiping away the liquid with a napkin as Harry coughed and Ginny patted him on the back.

"You have no idea how much I agree with some of your theories," said Hermione excitedly, leaning forward towards him, "and your ideas … they're just so ahead of their time."

She thought she heard a snort coming from Tom, but the moment she looked at him, she could not find any trace of it on his face.

"Well," Nicholas replied, drawing Hermione's attention back to him and puffing his chest out proudly, "people have to understand that these creatures share many common traits with us and shouldn't be treated as if they're supposed to do our bidding."

"That's what I've been trying to tell my friends," Hermione said, shooting an annoyed look at Harry who wasn't looking at her at all.

Instead, he was looking at Nicholas in confusion, surprise, and suspicion.

"That is exactly what would make a difference," Nicholas agreed, nodding his head. "If every person thought 'They don't need me; I'm just an extra,' then society will never move ahead. It takes the combination of all our strengths against the tide to achieve our goals."

"I agree wholeheartedly. If only my friends would listen to me. I've been trying to make them take me seriously when I talk about house-elves' rights—"

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, earning an annoyed look from Hermione.

"Just because you have house-elves at home doesn't mean that it's right," she said. "How would you like it if you were bound to a house and forced to do the owner's bidding?"

"Granger, the house-elves don't care. Dobby was just an anomaly. Take any other house-elf and they would show you how offended they are by the idea of being free," Draco pointed out.

"That's not going to work," Harry muttered to Draco on the side.

"That's because they haven't tasted freedom before. If you allow them to feel it, to experience it, they would feel differently—"

"How did you know?" Draco whispered to Harry as inconspicuously as he could while Hermione ranted on the side.

"She knitted wooly bladders a few years ago and placed them around our common room, trying to trick the house-elves into picking them up. The house-elves refused to clean up our dorms afterwards," Harry explained in a low voice, earning a glare from Hermione when he mentioned her handiwork.

"Oh, do you know how to knit?" Nicholas suddenly spoke up, stopping Hermione from arguing.

A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, and after shooting one last glare at Harry and Draco, she smiled at Nicholas, embarrassed. "I wished I could knit better, but I can only do simple things—"

"Reckon you can knit me something?" Nicholas asked, wrapping both of his hands around his glass. His mouth snapped shut when he realized how forward that sounded. "I mean … when you have time … and if you want to, of course … I'm not trying to force you into doing it …"

Ginny snickered softly and nudged Draco in the side, who followed her line of sight and looked at the "scene" to Hermione's right. A snort was quickly muffled by him, but it was a bit pointless—Tom had his attention on Hermione and Nicholas, both of whom were deeply engrossed in their conversation.

The color of Hermione's cheeks turned a shade darker as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Well … I'm not very good at it …"

"You're just being modest," Nicholas said, his gaze of admiration never wavering from Hermione.

To her side, Tom placed down his glass of water on the table quietly as she smiled. "Well, if you like …"

"I'd be thrilled," Nicholas said. "You have no idea how fascinated I am by people who know how to knit. I mean, my mother tried when I was younger, but—"

"A Galleon someone's going to get strangled by a knitted scarf," Ginny muttered.

"I'd say by tonight," Draco whispered back as he stared at Tom.

"You're on," Ginny replied with a grin.

"—in the end, she concluded that it must be because of the blood that runs through my family, since we're much more book-oriented than housework-oriented," Nicholas said.

"Blood?" Hermione asked.

"Yes … well, it doesn't help that we've descended from Rowena Ravenclaw herself. Never heard her being famous for housework," Nicholas replied cheerfully.

The rest of the people sitting at the table stopped in their motions and stared at him.

"Bet's off," Ginny said the moment she recovered from her stupor and saw the renewed look of interest on Tom's face.

"No way, Weaselette. A bet's a bet, and we're not calling it off," Draco said with glee on his face.

"Ravenclaw's your ancestor?" Tom asked, sliding the tip of his finger over the rim of his glass. "And how do we know if you're lying or not?"

"Well, it's rather hard to prove something like that," Hermione said, a cautious expression on her face.

"Then shouldn't he be a bit careful about saying something like that. How easy it would be for someone to call him a liar," Tom replied, keeping his eyes on Nicholas.

Hermione had the urge to warn Nicholas not to look into Tom's eyes, lest the latter used Legilimency on him. However, she knew she couldn't do so without a good explanation. Good thing Nicholas had his eyes on her instead of Tom.

"I know it's not something that's believable, and I would've given you proof if I still had it," Nicholas said to Hermione.

"'Still?'" Tom inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"My father fell ill a couple of years ago, and my mother was forced to sell every last Ravenclaw artifact we had," Nicholas explained.

"Sold it to whom?" Tom pressed on.

"Now why would Nicholas know something like that? He said his mother sold it," Hermione cut in.

Harry and Ginny were both staring at Tom with attentiveness now, and Hermione knew the same thing that was going through her head was going through theirs, too.

"That's absurd, Hermione. I'm pretty sure that Mrs. Lockhart-Lovegood would've kept that information, just in case she'd ever got enough Galleons to purchase the items back," Tom said smoothly.

"Well, that's between Mrs. Lockhart-Lovegood, Nicholas, and the buyer, isn't it?" Hermione snapped.

Silence descended as Hermione stared at Tom with her arms crossed over her chest. Though it was obvious that history had been thoroughly distorted by now, she was not going to assist him or give easy access to items he might be interested in making Horcruxes out of.

In contrast to the stern look on her face, Tom had that indifferent mask back on again, though his eyes were slightly narrowed, as if he found something displeasing on Hermione that he rather not voice out loud. Seconds later, even that disappeared, and in its place was pleasant politeness.

"I was just curious, Hermione. It's not precisely something to get angry about, is it?" Tom asked, the corner of his lips curving upwards into a smile.

The smile in itself seemed genial, but yet there was something in it that caused a rather noticeable shudder from Draco.

"Well, maybe you should have been a bit more considerate towards others and realize that people might find it painful to be reminded of their parents' deaths," Hermione hissed back.

"I was simply wondering if Abraxas knew this buyer, and perhaps we may recover these artifacts for poor Nicholas," Tom continued, sending Nicholas an understanding smile, and Hermione could barely hold back a snort.

Recover those artifacts for Lord Voldemort would be more like it, she huffed in her mind.

"Thank you for being so thoughtful, Mr. Riddle. But like Hermione's said, I'm afraid I do not know the name of the buyer. You see, my mother was a rather secretive person, and she passed away a few months ago," Nicholas replied.

Hermione relaxed upon hearing Nicholas's words, and pity for his misfortunes caused her expression to soften.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Nicholas said, sighing. "I'm sure my mother would be much happier seeing my father again, instead of watching her useless son."

The bitter smile on Nicholas's face made Hermione feel bad, and she would've patted him if she were sitting next to him.

"How can you be considered useless? Your knowledge in different creatures is brilliant, and the theories you've created in Arithmancy made a lot of progress in areas never explored before," Hermione contradicted his words.

A smile appeared on Nicholas's face. "Do you really find my works brilliant?"

"Of course," she immediately answered, and it was rewarded with a beam.

She was so immersed in the conversation that followed that she had unconsciously placed all her attention on Nicholas again. Therefore, it also escaped her notice when Harry and Ginny shared a look the moment they saw a vile glint pass through Tom's eyes, right before he lowered his head to take another sip of water.

And they could not foresee anything but trouble in the forthcoming days.

~-0-~

Tom Marvolo Riddle was up to something.

Though Hermione had no idea what it was, she was positive that he was planning something. Catching him alone with Ernsta in the kitchen that afternoon did make her annoyed, but it was nothing in comparison to her suspicions about what his intentions were.

Ernsta, upon seeing Hermione, immediately pointed her finger at Tom and said that he was the one who had approached her, and they did nothing but talk. Tom, on the other hand, appeared much calmer, though Hermione had the feeling of being lied to again.

"I simply wanted to know more about the forest that we've gotten hurt in. After all, we still have to find out who saved us, don't we?" he replied after Ernsta hurried out of the kitchen.

Her disbelief in his words must have shown on her face, since a fleeting frown appeared on his face before he raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What else do you think we were talking about?" he asked. His lips curled upwards. "Scarves and mittens?"

His answer made Hermione's mouth drop open, and before she could say anything, he exited the kitchen. What frustrated Hermione even more was the fact that she could not find further clues in regards to what he was doing.

"Maybe the recipient of the letter is also the person who saved us?" Ginny suggested when Hermione told her what had happened.

It sounded reasonable to Hermione, but that did not bring them any closer to discovering what Tom was up to. Therefore, Ginny agreed to keep an eye out on Tom for Hermione; two pairs of eyes were better than one after all.

That night, Hermione decided to use visiting Nicholas as the reason to enter Tom's room. She did not dare to look at Tom when she told him her excuse, lest he find out that she was lying through Legilimency. Therefore, she could not help but be surprised when Tom denied her entry to his room.

"And why not?" she argued.

"Because it's my room for the time being," he replied, "and he's not in there right now."

His words made her even more certain that he was hiding something.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to let me in, does it?" she asked stubbornly.

"Why would I lie about something like that?" he asked. He paused for a second. "You seem quite interested in him."

His comment made her blush out of guilt and she lowered her eyes again.

"We saved him from the trolls, so we do have the responsibility to make sure that he's alright," she replied.

And then she realized how inappropriate her actions were. Tom would probably get the wrong idea and think that she looked away because she was interested in Nicholas. Hastily, she gazed at him, just in time to see a cold, sarcastic smirk appear on his face.

"I—"

"I'm sure," he answered, cutting her explanation off. "I will tell Mr. Lockhart-Lovegood that you were here to see him."

Before she could say anything, he swirled into his room and shut the door in her face.

But she wasn't finished talking to him, and she didn't get the chance to check if the letter was still in the room.

"Tom, I need to speak to you," she said, knocking on the door.

However, it was probably easier speaking to a wall. The door remained locked, and Tom did not answer her. In the end, Hermione had no choice but to retreat upstairs to the hallway where Ginny was on standby.

"He didn't let me into his room," Hermione said in a low voice.

A frown appeared on Ginny's forehead as she picked on a spot right under her chin. "I wonder if he hadn't already sent the letter off. He could've done so last night or this morning, if he wakes up early enough to avoid attention."

Their conversation was cut short with the sound of a door closing downstairs, and cautiously, they tiptoed towards the stairs, avoiding spots that creaked loudly. They were just in time to see Tom enter the living room, and after sharing a look, they mutually decided to follow him, just in case he hadn't sent the letter yet and was sending it off now.

Hiding near the doorway, they stuck their heads around the archway and found Tom fumbling through the closet. After taking his cloak out, he fastened it around his neck. Hermione and Ginny almost gasped out of fright when he gazed around the room, making sure that no one saw him.

After a moment, they heard the sound of the door opening and closing.

"Ginny, alert Harry and Draco about this. I'm going to follow him," Hermione whispered.

"You can't do this alone, Hermione. What if he kills you out there?" Ginny protested.

"I've got to see what he's doing. I have no idea why, but this whole thing just makes me feel uneasy, and I can't let you take any risks. Now please hurry, or else I'll never catch up with him," said Hermione.

Ignoring Ginny's protests, she quickly went over to the closet, grabbed her cloak, and exited the house.

The bitter coldness of winter splashed into her face, and she pulled her cloak closer to her body. Few people were still rushing through the streets, hurrying to get home and out of the cold. Not too far up ahead, she saw Tom walking through the snow at a fast pace. He must have placed some kind of spell on his shoes, since there were no other explanations how he could get through that much snow at that pace.

Muttering an Anti-Slipping spell on her own shoes, Hermione started off in the same direction he was going while pulling her hood over her head. That way, if he were to turn around, he wouldn't immediately recognize her telltale bushy head of hair. Thankfully, it was nighttime, so she did not have to worry about him being able to see her features too clearly, even though the night sky was clear of clouds and the moon was shining brightly.

Much to her surprise, Tom walked directly into the forest they had gotten attacked by the trolls. Her suspicions as well as her curiosity grew, and that nagging feeling that Tom knew something—a lot of things that the rest of them didn't returned full force. After they entered the forest, Hermione's heart nearly stopped when Tom halted in his footsteps. As quietly as she could, she slipped behind a tree next to her, hoping he did not hear her. When nothing happened, she peeked around the tree and found Tom staring at a piece of paper.

A frown appeared on Hermione's face. Although she could not see the details, she could tell that it was some kind of map, and she had a hunch that it was a map of the forest. Now she was certain that Tom knew who had saved them from the trolls, and she was determined to find out just who this person was. It was illogical that Tom would hide this from her because he didn't have any reason to do so.

Or at least, he didn't have any apparent reason to do so.

Adding another spell to her shoes to muffle the sounds they would make when she trudged across the snow, she followed after Tom when he continued on his way. She made sure to step in places where he had and kept at a distance she deemed safer, since she doubted following the future Dark Lord in secret could be considered "safe" in anyone's dictionary.

Much to her surprise (though perhaps, she shouldn't be), he took a different path from the one she and the others had last time.

Did he plan everything that had happened?

That thought, as absurd and unlikely as it was to her, caused a tremor to go down her spine.

After recomposing herself, she concentrated on following the young man ahead. Apparently, he also had trouble finding his way around the forest, since he had to refer back to the map every once in a while. What Hermione was more concerned about was the fact that the paths were getting narrower and narrower. A couple of times, she found herself tangled in branches and had to stop to pick the cloth out of their grips. The last thing she wanted was to break one of them and alert Tom.

Other than that, it wasn't entirely impossible for her to follow his footsteps, since he was the only person amongst the trees. Hermione had no idea how long they walked, but she knew they had traveled rather deeply into the forest, much further than when they'd encountered the trolls.

And then, he stopped.

At first, Hermione thought that it was because he had to check his map again. However, she then realized that it was because there was someone else already waiting there.

"I'm here," Tom said.

In the trees a few feet in front of Tom, a shadow moved. His features were so recognizable to Hermione that it was almost difficult for her to suppress a gasp. The man wrinkled his nose as if he saw something displeasing.

"Either I've overestimated the abilities of my heir or the people who followed you are extremely clever."

His words confirmed his identity, but that only caused even more questions to appear in Hermione's mind.

How and why is Salazar Slytherin still alive?

~-0-~

A/N: *runs away from flying tomatoes, snakes, and other types of ammunition*
- 42
- 43
- 44
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Somewhere in Time