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
- 47
- 48
- 49
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Chapter 48
Harry and Ginny stared at the spot where Voldemort and Hermione had just been seconds ago.
"How wonderfully horrendous. Out of all the imbecilic dunces, I have to be stuck with the three of you," Snape griped.
The two remaining, still-in-human-form time travelers turned around and stared at him.
Apparently, some things never changed, regardless of what timeline or future they were in.
Harry had to say that he found the situation uncomfortable—though that was pretty much an understatement. It was one thing knowing what Snape did for loving Lily. Sure, Harry honored the man and found him extremely brave for daring to betray Lord Voldemort. However, it was a whole different case reencountering the alive version of said Potions professor. Especially when it was apparent that Snape despised Harry every bit as much as he did in the original timeline.
The appearance of Snape also made Harry wonder which side the man was truly on. Was he still helping Dumbledore? Or had he joined Voldemort, since Lily was still alive?
The moment those familiar cold, coal-black eyes met with his, however, Harry looked away, remembering quite well that Snape knew Legilimency.
"No retort from the famous Harry Potter? My, my, and to think that some things will never change. Or perhaps I've been lucky and the Dark Lord had made you permanently silent with a spell?" Snape continued.
Famous? Harry thought.
If he were famous in this timeline, then things were strange indeed. For one thing, Voldemort did not seem to be intent on killing him, and Lily and James Potter were still alive. So what would he be famous for?
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked as politely as he could.
After all, Snape did save his life, regardless of the reason for it.
Snape's eyebrow shot up before his expression faded back to one of cold sarcasm. "What other pranks do you have up your sleeve again this time, Potter? Being disgustingly polite will not let me fall into your trap, so let's get it over and done with."
Pranks?
For a moment, Harry wondered if the Harry Potter in this timeline was perhaps similar in personality to the Weasley twins. However, he was far more worried about Hermione's well-being at the current moment. Though her relationship with Riddle was … strange, in lighter terms, Harry did not forget that they were in a different era right now. What if Voldemort hurt Hermione? He had to find her before any harm was done to her.
"I just want to know where Hermione is," Harry answered.
"Lost your glasses somewhere, Potter? She's with the Dark Lord."
"I want to know—" Harry took a step towards him. "—where he took her."
Vicious amusement and grim disgust alternated at remarkable speed on Snape's face.
"That," Snape answered, "is none of your concern."
"She is my friend," Harry argued.
It was becoming a cumbersome feat for him, to be honest. He had thought it was obvious that Hermione was one of his best friends. Of course she was his concern. Yet, this was the second time he had had to voice it out loud within the last hour.
"Then let's hope that she's not being placed under a torture curse now, shall we?" Snape's lips curved into a sneer again.
Harry's eyes narrowed, and without giving Snape a reply, he turned on his feet and stalked towards the door with Ginny in tow.
"Where do you think you're going, Potter?" the cold voice sounded behind them.
"To the toilet," Harry answered randomly.
"Keep it in."
"I can't," Harry lied. "Emergency."
Snape's eyes turned into mere slits before he stood up and swept over to the door, much to Harry and Ginny's surprise.
"Very well then." Snape glared down at them. "I shall accompany you to the toilet, Potter. If I find out that you are lying—" He paused here, giving Harry and Ginny sufficient time to imagine what words might follow. "—I have a rather … convenient spell that will make you feel as if you need to go for the next twenty-four hours."
Harry stared back at him, unwilling to back down and keeping his mind as blank as possible. He'd Occluded Voldemort before, so it shouldn't be too hard to Occlude Snape, should it?
The moment Snape tried to open the door however, the three of them froze. Though the doorknob turned, the rest of the door wouldn't budge. After attempting it a couple of times, Snape bared his teeth before pulling his face back into check. Then, he turned on his heel and prowled back to the desk—his desk. It was obvious to Harry now that the current Headmaster must be Snape, and there was no doubt that Voldemort must have been the one who had put him in that position.
It took a certain degree of sadism to allow Snape to become Headmaster of any school after all.
With a flick of his wand, Snape conjured a pail in the middle of the room.
Harry stared at the pail. Uh?
"Well, didn't you say you needed to go?" Snape asked irately.
Harry's eyes went back to Snape. "What's wrong with the toilet?"
Did Snape really expect him to go in front of an audience?
"There's nothing wrong with the toilet, but there's obviously something wrong anywhere you appear in," Snape answered with a scowl and pure hatred directed towards Harry. "I should thank my lucky stars that I didn't become Headmaster until your final year, or else Merlin knows what else would have happened to my office. The Dark Lord clearly knows this, too, since he doesn't want you anywhere near him, to the point that he decided to lock you in here with me."
"Locked? You mean we're locked in here?" Ginny asked in shock.
"That's what I said, Miss Weasley," Snape replied coldly, sparing a glance at her.
"But we can't be locked in here. If you're the Headmaster, Hogwarts is supposed to listen to your commands," Harry pointed out.
If Heads could Apparate in and out of Hogwarts, then a simple door couldn't be too hard.
Snape merely gave him a mocking look before staring back at the parchments on the desk. That chipped another piece of Harry's patience off.
"You know where Hermione is, don't you?"
"Can't hold up with the pretense of politeness anymore already? And here I was, thinking that I would have to put up with that sickening act of yours," Snape drawled. "The Dark Lord took Miss Granger with him, so why would I know where she is?"
"They're still in the castle though, aren't they?" Harry asked, panic working its way into his voice.
Snape's gaze slid over to him again, and a nasty smile appeared on his sallow face. "What happened to your emergency, Potter?"
Harry's mouth snapped shut, and unconsciously, his eyes flickered over to the pail sitting innocently in the middle of the room.
"Well, well, well … hopefully that abysmally small brain of yours retained what I've told you I'd do to you if I found out you've lied to me."
"I can't go in front of you and Ginny," Harry argued.
Another flick of his wand and a cardboard box appeared next to the pail.
"Problem solved."
"That's not a solution," Harry said. "The sounds … the cardboard doesn't even muffle out the sounds."
A sound that resembled a growl escaped Snape, and he stood up sharply from his chair. "You have a wand. Put up a Silencing Spell, conjure flowers to block out the stench, cleanse yourself with a Cleaning Spell—I do not care. Although it amazes me, too, you're a wizard, Potter, and every once in a while, maybe you'll get a spell or two right without blasting the closest object to the moon."
With that, he sat back down and pretended the three of them did not exist.
Though Harry did not know ferret body language, he could have sworn that Draco was rolling in the cage laughing.
After the awkward feat of relieving himself into a pail, surrounded by pieces of cardboard, while avoiding Ginny's eyes, Harry looked back at the man behind the desk. Harry could almost see the traces of amusement on Snape's face.
Harry wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Snape was internally laughing right now.
"Is Hermione still inside Hogwarts?" Harry asked, pushing his embarrassment aside.
"Be quiet," came the command.
"I want—need to know if she's safe right now," Harry pressed on.
Apparently, Snape's patience had reached its limit, and he whipped his wand towards Harry. The spell hit Harry before he could yell, and when the noise did escape his mouth, a loud croak came out instead.
Shocked, he stared at Snape—or at least, tried to, since the table had become irrationally high. Did he fall over when Snape's spell hit him?
"Harry!" Ginny's scream came from beside him, and Harry tried to turn around to look at her, to find out what was wrong, but found it strangely difficult to do so.
Seconds later, however, he no longer had to worry about that, since Ginny's face came into view. That was also when Harry found out that his problem was far from being solved. Ginny, like Snape's table, was inconceivably tall. Either Snape had enlarged the room or had shrunk him—the second option seemed much more logical to Harry.
Harry tried to speak, but only one sound came out.
"Ribbit."
"What did you do to him?" Ginny demanded, swirling around towards Snape.
"Giving him a hint of what his Animagus form would have looked like."
"This—you can't do this! It's strictly forbidden to use Transfiguration on students—" Ginny yelled.
Snape stood up from the desk slowly, a horrible grin stretched across his face. "Try telling that to the Dark Lord, Miss Weasley. I'm sure he would have a … wonderful time explaining that to you and your parents."
A growl erupted from Ginny's mouth, and she whipped out her wand. Nonetheless, Snape was much faster. The moment Ginny's wand was securely in Snape's left hand, a furry animal appeared in the spot Ginny had been standing in—
She had been turned into a red fox.
After the initial anger was replaced by helplessness, Harry tried to sigh, but all that came out of his huge toad lips was another loud "ribbit."
For the first time since he came back—came to this future, he wished that he was merely in a nightmare.

~-0-~
The nauseating sensation from Side-Along Apparition rushed through Hermione, and she very nearly threw up the moment they appeared in the room. With her eyes closed, she leaned against him for support, and her mind vaguely registered the fact that he waved his wand over her body, cleaning the debris off her and her clothes. Regardless of how many times she had Apparated before, she still despised that feeling.
Not to mention he had just broken the silent resolution she had just made a few hours ago.
The moment that thought went through her mind, she connected her right fist with his arm.
"Ow," he said, more out of surprise than pain, since she could hardly muster enough energy to hit him for real. "What was that for?"
"For making me travel by magic again after that horrendous time traveling spell by Slytherin," Hermione answered and furrowed her eyebrows. "And you shouldn't be able to Apparate inside of Hogwarts."
"According to the books." He snickered.
"Unless you're the Headmaster," Hermione added, tilting her head up to look at him.
"Does it look like I want to boss those little idiots—"
Hermione's frown deepened.
"—around when I have better things to do?" Voldemort asked.
"Then my point's proven. You shouldn't be able to Apparate inside of Hogwarts," Hermione said.
He looked around the room. "Well, if you want to imagine that McGonagall's office—" He waved his hand around them. "—is the Head's office, I have no problem with that."
"What are we doing in McGonagall's office?" Hermione asked. She then shook her head. "We have to go back to the Head's office. Draco—You can't just change him into a ferret like that—"
"I can't?" Voldemort asked.
"—What if it causes long-term problems to him?"
"Granger, you should've read enough Transfiguration books to know that no long-term problems would permanently inflict a person who has been Transfigured to an object or an animal," Voldemort replied.
"It hasn't been proven!" Hermione protested. "Morano's The Complexity of Transfiguration, Chapter 12."
"Werewolves have to stay in their wolf forms for whole nights. Does it look like they're retaining fur or fangs in their human forms?" Voldemort pointed out.
"Look at Fenrir and tell me he doesn't look at least ninety percent like a wolf pretending to be a human—"
He snorted.
"—and Animagi always retain certain personalities from the animal they turn into—"
"Does it make a difference?" Voldemort interrupted her.
Hermione's mouth dropped open. "What?"
"Does it make a difference?" he repeated himself. "Wizards and witches change into a certain Animagus form because they have the qualities of that particular animal. And—" He held up his hand when he saw Hermione open her mouth. "—you can't tell me that the Malfoys do not have uncanny resemblances to ferrets."
Uncontrollably, the corners of Hermione's lips twitched. "That's not the point."
Nonetheless, she could not keep bits and pieces of laughter from entering her voice, and it hardly escaped Voldemort's notice.
"That's precisely the point," he said. His red eyes glinted in a mischievous way, and she could almost see traces of the Tom she had known.
"No, it's not," Hermione answered, though the corners of her lips twitched upwards.
She should feel more frightened of him. He was the person who had caused so much fear in the Wizarding World, and he had done it with the serpentine looks he had right now. Though Hermione acknowledged the fact that there were no differences between Lord Voldemort and Tom Marvolo Riddle, it was harder for people to associate Tom's unjustly handsome looks with the evil deeds he had done—the looks of an angel should not be granted to someone with the heart of a demon. Nonetheless, she could not stop the inexplicable attraction she felt towards him. Perhaps she had underestimated how much she cared for him, and she was slowly coming to terms with herself after she experienced the unprecedented glee she felt upon seeing that Lord Voldemort was still alive in this future.
However ...
Were her parents alright? Draco mentioned that his parents were in the Order of the Phoenix instead of Harry's parents, and the Weasleys were on Tom's side instead of Dumbledore's side. But that told her nothing about what Tom's thoughts were on the subject.
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at the mere thought of Tom being a Muggle supporter. He hated Muggles, didn't he? However, she doubted Tom was the best person to ask, and she didn't want to give him any ideas. Mentioning her parents to him might put them in unnecessary danger and give him something to hold over her. She would have to fish answers out of him rather than ask him straight out.
She looked back at him with a sarcastic glint in her eyes. "And since when did you become a Muggle supporter, Mr. Muggles-Are-Filth?"
He gazed back at her, amused. "Who said anything about supporting Muggles?"
"Oh, give me a break," she huffed. "Lily Potter's a Muggle-born, and she's following you. Lucius I-Have-My-Nose-In-The-Air-Because-I'm-A-Pureblood Malfoy is on the run because you're in power. Need I give you more examples?"
"That still doesn't mean I support Muggles, Granger," Voldemort answered.
Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, and he answered by mimicking her expression, grating her nerves. With difficulty, she managed to rein in her temper and keep it in check, but only just.
"What else did you change?" she asked.
He shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"
"Riddle," she growled.
He rolled his eyes. "Hermione, I don't know what happened in your timeline, so how am I supposed to answer your question?"
She scrunched up her face, clearly recalling their interaction right before they travelled to Germany. She suspected that Joseph, Gareth, or Alphard might have told Tom about the four of them being from the future. If her hunch was correct, that meant that Tom knew more about her timeline than he was allowing her to believe. However, she doubted that he would be willing to tell her truthfully.
"You must have had some idea of what you were going to do before we arrived at Hogwarts. What kind of plans changed?" she asked instead.
"Oh, I was planning to get married with a wonderful witch, have a whole Quidditch team of children with her—By gods, you're still as violent as ever, Hermione," he said, catching the fist that nearly rammed into his chest.
"Does it look like I'm in the mood to play games with you, Riddle?"
"Got your hair ruffled the wrong way?" Voldemort asked, running a thumb down the side of her hand.
A barely noticeable shiver through her body, and she sent him a warning glare in response to his attempt to divert her attention.
"What did you change? Why are the Potters and Weasleys following you? I thought …" she trailed off, half of her mind still worried that this might be a plot cooked up by Slytherin and Tom.
"That they were Gryffindors, through and through?" Voldemort finished for her.
The smug look made Hermione's hand itch to punch it off. However, she resisted the urge and nodded.
Joseph Potter and Gareth Weasley had been Gryffindors. So the relatives of the two of them shouldn't be too different, should they? And from her timeline, Molly, Arthur, James, and Lily were all Gryffindors, too.
"I thought you were all about the purity of blood and what not," Hermione added.
Voldemort sighed and released her hand. "And surround myself with mindless, stupid, useless families? I prefer not to enter the grave prematurely."
"All your followers at Hogwarts were pure-blood Slytherins," Hermione countered, tilting her head to the side challengingly.
"Hence my assessment of the lot of them being stupid," Voldemort replied with a snicker. He paused for a second and stared at her in thought. "Which meant that that was precisely what I did in your original timeline. What happened? Did I somehow swap brains with Potter?"
Hermione's eyes narrowed, and it took all her strength to restrain her tongue. She awfully wanted to tell him that he was the one who chose Harry as his equal in her timeline, but she had a feeling that it would be a bad idea to tell him that.
"So what's your agenda now if it's not 'all Mudbloods and Muggles are filth?' 'We're all one big family and should get along with one another?'" Hermione asked condescendingly.
"Now, now, Hermione. You were sorted in Gryffindor. You should know better than to call people with unfortunate bloodlines that awful name," Voldemort teased.
Her hands clenched and unclenched. Oh, he was definitely asking for it.
"According to the law enacted since the twenty-second of January of the year 1997 by the, at the time, new government—"
Voldemort looked distinctly pleased at this point, and Hermione had a hunch that he was the head of this "new government."
"—all pure-bloods are not allowed to marry pure-bloods, unless they could prove that they have mixed blood somewhere along their heritage—"
"Wait," Hermione said, an ill look on her face. "Are you telling me that instead of Muggles and Muggle-borns, your new targets are the pure-blood families?"
"Not really," Voldemort answered, not bothered that she had interrupted him. It was almost as if he had expected her to.
"That's what it sounded like," Hermione pointed out.
Voldemort thought it over before nodding. "Perhaps I am, in one way or another."
"And how do you justify the Weasleys then? Their whole family is pure-blood," Hermione pointed out.
And she found it hard to believe that Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking skills were what kept the family intact.
"Oh, would you prefer me to start putting them on the Undesirables list, too?" Voldemort asked, feigning an innocent look on his face.
Those who didn't know him well enough might believe that expression on his face—back in the forties, when he still possessed those devastatingly beautiful looks. With his current snake-like features, it was fake beyond belief. It almost made Hermione feel as if he were mocking her. And he probably was.
"You fully know that that's not what I meant," Hermione said through gritted teeth. "It's just a pick and choose thing for you, isn't it? Those who listen to you get to live and those who don't get arrested."
"Isn't that the whole point of rising to power?" Voldemort asked.
"You—" Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
This was insane beyond belief. Things were not supposed to be like this. Half of her mind was wondering why the world hadn't imploded because of all the changes that Harry, Ginny, Draco, and she had inadvertently made and caused.
"How is this any different from what you were trying to do before? This is unbelievable and … and … and downright wrong. You're still … still using the hatred against a certain group to rally followers, and I can't believe the Potters and the Weasleys believe the rubbish you fed to them. Honestly, you would think that with Joseph and Gareth as their ancestors, they would've—"
Hermione stopped herself just in time. She had no idea if Tom really did know about her timeline, and even if he did know, she had no idea who told. So, she didn't want to give him more information than necessary, just in case this whole thing wasn't real.
"You don't even like Muggles or Muggle-borns," she said instead.
He raised a non-existent eyebrow at her but did not comment which was why it took her slightly longer to notice the discrepancy of her words. He couldn't have possibly changed his plans around for her sake, could he?
"What … made you change your target?" she asked slowly.
His eyes flickered, and for a moment, he seemed uncomfortable with the situation.
"Do I need a reason for everything I do?" he asked. "I've told you already. I didn't want to surround myself with mindless idiots—"
"But you've already acknowledged that that's what you did in the original timeline. Something must have happened along the line to cause a change this big," Hermione argued. She paused for a second. "And I'm not going to buy the load of tosh that you're doing this 'for the greater good.'"
Hermione's mind was thrown into indecisiveness. Half of her mind realized how many things were wrong if Lord Voldemort were allowed to remain in power. She could never rest in peace, knowing that there were innocent people out there being hurt just because they were pure-blood. Just because there were people like Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange didn't mean that all pure-blood families deserved to be eradicated. There were wizards and witches who didn't have a drop of Muggle blood in them but were still some of the nicest people she had ever known. The Weasleys, for example, had always been kind to her. With her new memories, she also recalled how during vacations, James Potter would offer to take her along with Lily and Harry.
Besides, Voldemort was basically forcing people to choose their mates. The lack of freedom that that implied made her sick to the stomach, and she wondered why the Potters would put up with this.
"'For the greater good,'" Voldemort snorted. "Only Grindelwald would use that as some kind of rallying motto. Oh, of course, and your wonderful Professor Dumbledore."
She disregarded the mocking way by which he said Dumbledore's name; instead, she frowned as another worry was added to the pile.
"What happened to Professor Dumbledore? Where is he now?" she asked.
Did he die in this timeline as well? If he hadn't, where was he now?
The playful expression previously on Voldemort's face disappeared, and he stared at her with an alertness that was bordering on coldness. It was so out of the blue that it caught Hermione by surprise, and subconsciously, she took a step back. However, his hand was wrapped around her wrist immediately, almost as if he were preventing her from running away.
"Planning on saving the whole world again, Granger?" he asked.
Hermione recomposed herself upon hearing his words, and the recent memories of Dietfried and Nicholas came back to mind. "Planning on killing someone again, Riddle?"
Surprisingly, he relaxed upon hearing her words, and with a light tug, she fell into his arms again. His free hand landed on the small of her back, and he started rubbing small circles there.
"Not something you should be concerned about," he said.
"Right, just like Nicholas and Dietfried shouldn't be my concern either, should they?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Exactly," Voldemort answered.
She tried to push him away but failed miserably. So, she contented herself by glaring at him.
"What happened to Nicholas, and why did you kill Dietfried?"
"Nicholas is … still alive," Voldemort answered, accompanied by a vicious grin.
"Where is he now?" she pushed on.
"I don't know," Voldemort answered smoothly. "I haven't seen him after I've left Germany."
Hermione found his words suspicious, and there seems to be something … awfully wrong about his entire attitude. However, she could not put her finger on it exactly. She would have to keep in mind to look into matters afterwards, since she doubt Voldemort would give her a clear answer. The look on his face when she mentioned Nicholas worried her, and for the time being, she could only hope that he wasn't lying when he said Nicholas was still alive.
"What about Dietfried?"
"What about him?"
Hermione looked at him scornfully. "Why did you kill him?"
"Didn't you ask that question before?" he asked.
"And you never answered me," Hermione replied.
"And what makes you think I would answer now?"
"Whatever it was you've planned already occurred, and I have no way of stopping you any longer," Hermione argued.
"Aren't we being a bit presumptuous?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "So you're telling me that the great, almighty Lord Voldemort has yet to accomplish something?"
A glint of annoyance flashed through his eyes, but he didn't answer her, and the hand on her back stopped in its motions.
"Can't think of something to say to that?" Hermione taunted. "And to think that you've already have the whole Britain under your control."
He tightened his grip around her waist. "Having fun at my expense, Granger?"
"Just stating the facts," Hermione answered with a shrug. "It's been more than fifty years since Dietfried died. One would think that whatever you've wanted to accomplish would've gone through already."
Her lips curved into a Slytherin-worthy smirk, causing his frown to deepen.
"Just because there was a minor … setback in things, doesn't mean that I've failed in it," he said quietly.
"Sure," Hermione said in a sing-song voice.
"Granger," he said warningly.
"Mm-hm," she answered cheerily.
He inhaled deeply before saying, "Is there a particular reason why you're so delighted about this?"
"Oh, it's nothing," she replied offhandedly. "Perhaps because you're not accomplishing whatever it is you're trying to do because you lack certain information, and perhaps because you lack that certain information because you killed the one person who might have given you that information."
His eyes narrowed. "What do you know about this?"
She raised her eyebrows again. "Absolutely nothing. I'm just analyzing the situation through pure logic and my understanding of you." She paused.
Should she know something about this then? Her mind went over the limited amount of conversations she had had with Dietfried, and the only one that could be considered remotely interesting was the one about Nefertiti's tomb. However, she had always brushed it aside, considering it as Dietfried's way of avoiding the subjects about the Deathly Hallows.
But what should she do to loosen Voldemort's tongue? She did not want to mention the tomb first, in fear that he might not have known about it in the first place.
Voldemort eyed her for a few seconds, and perhaps he saw something that confirmed that what she'd said was the truth because his expression became visibly less tense.
That made her recall the fact that he was a master in Legilimency, and it was a bad idea to maintain eye contact with him if she wanted to keep her thoughts to herself. She mentally hit herself for not remembering that earlier, and she wondered how much of her previous thoughts he had seen. However, she could not dwell on her error if she wanted to gain the information she needed.
Lowering her eyes, she weighed her options. Knowing Tom's personality, if he didn't want to give her answers, she doubted she could pester it out of him. She would have to use some other method. Perhaps she could ask his followers. She was close enough to the Weasleys and the Potters to warrant some answers.
"Slytherin locked the four of you up for three days," he suddenly said. "I'm sure he prepared fluffy pillows and warm blankets for the lot of you." He sent her a sarcastic look.
Hm … the sudden change of subject was suspicious to Hermione, too, which meant that he was probably trying to prevent her from overthinking and working things out. That meant that she should have certain information about what he was trying to do. She would just have to wait until her meeting with Voldemort was concluded then.
"That'll be the day," Hermione said in answer to his comment with a derisive snort, recalling the cage they were trapped in.
Voldemort smirked at her tone of voice. "Had a run-in with him?"
"In lighter terms, yes," Hermione conceded.
"Care to enlighten me about your conversation with him?" he asked, sitting down on the chair behind McGonagall's desk and pulling her down with him.
She placed her hands on his chest to support herself, so that she could keep her eyes on his face while they talked.
"I doubt you'd want to know the details," Hermione answered, raising her eyebrows. Her forehead creased again. "What happened to him after he sent us through time?"
She heard a scream right before they were transported back to the future, but she didn't see what exactly happened.
"I doubt you'd want to know the details," Voldemort threw her words right back at her.
A low growl left Hermione, causing him to chuckle.
"Let's just say he's taken care of," Voldemort said, cupping her chin with his hand.
Hermione's expression turned into one of surprise. "You killed him?"
He did not answer and looked at her quietly.
"Did you?" she pressed on.
In the end, he finally nodded. "Yes."
Hermione snorted. "Bet he didn't see that one coming. So much for trying to escape death." She noticed his astonished look and rolled her eyes. "You didn't really expect me to fly off the handle on you for him, did you?"
Voldemort shrugged. "I wouldn't know. After knowing that you supported house-elves' rights …"
Hermione's gaze hardened. "That's an entirely different case."
"I'm sure it is," Voldemort cut in before she could continue. "I merely thought that you would've gotten upset over his death because he helped you come back."
She wondered if this was a test, since his eyes stayed firmly on her face while he spoke, as if he was gauging her reaction. In a way, she couldn't blame him. Their relationship had been built on a shaky foundation, and she hadn't even given him a proper explanation before disappearing on him. Granted, he probably knew that Slytherin would've sent her back to the future regardless of what she wanted, but he had no idea of her thoughts on the matter.
She had felt both guilty and grateful that Harry trusted her enough to let her handle Tom and her relationship by herself. After all, she had always viewed her intimate interactions with Tom as a betrayal to her best friend. Therefore, even if Slytherin hadn't forced her to come back, she would've gone all the way to find a way to do so. Nonetheless, that didn't mean that she didn't want to stay with Tom. If only they weren't on two different sides of war.
Glancing back at him, she had to say that the future they had returned to was wacky and still had things that were horribly wrong with it, but it was nearly a dream come true. She didn't have to choose between Harry and Tom in this timeline, and that thought lifted the invisible burden that had been continuously on top of her heart.
"Did I look like this in your timeline?" he suddenly asked, breaking off her train of thought.
Confused, she merely nodded, and amusement appeared on his face.
"So you knew right from the start." He shook his head and laughed.
Hermione blushed upon realizing what he was talking about it. "Intelligence is worth much more than good looks."
He looked at her skeptically. "According to some of your friends, that's not the philosophy you go by when choosing men."
Her face turned even redder, and she wondered for a moment if the "friend" was Ronald Weasley. If it were …
"And I do recall someone fancying Lockhart in her younger years," Voldemort continued, releasing her chin and running his fingers through her hair instead.
"That was because I thought he did all the things he said he did in his books," Hermione argued.
"Really?" he asked contemplatively, though it was obvious that he doubted her words. Then, he placed his hand at the back of her neck. "Kiss me."
The color of her cheeks reached a new level of redness with his command and the way he was gazing at her.
"We're—we're still—we're not finished—"
"Yes, we are," Voldemort cut in. "Kiss me, Hermione."
She shifted uncomfortably on his lap, and too many questions continued to swim in her mind. However, the look on his face told her that at the current moment, he was not going to put up with her interrogation. Tentatively, she moved forward until her lips were millimeters away from his. Her eyes met with his, and apparently, his patience had run dry, since the next second, he took the initiative and pressed her head towards him.
His free hand went under her shirt and caressed her back, causing shivers to go up her spine. The next minute, her hands were fumbling with his buttons, trying to open them, but the job was, needless to say, harder when her eyes were not on them. Once she got them open, she ran her hands down his chest. A faint smile appeared on her face. It appeared that somebody was keeping his body in shape. In fact, the muscles she felt were even firmer than she remembered.
"Merlin, I missed this," he whispered against her lips.
Could she hope that that meant he hadn't touched another woman? Regardless of the answer to the question, an unprecedented joy spread throughout her body, and she deepened their kiss.
His fingers curled around the locks of her hair, and he pulled her away from him. He shared a look with her before he attacked her neck.
Suddenly, he moved away, causing Hermione to look at him in confusion, and that was when she noticed the pendant of Slytherin's necklace lying in his hand. He looked at her and raised a non-existent eyebrow, holding the pendant up.
Hermione bit her lower lip, not knowing what to say. She was positive that she shouldn't mention that she had gotten it from Slytherin, and she probably shouldn't even tell him why she had it around her neck. Additionally, this also reminded her that she should probably turn the top of the pendant to turn on the magical field.
However, she should concentrate on the task at hand first: How should she explain the pendant to Voldemort?
"Just a trinket," she finally decided.
He did not answer; instead, he kept looking at the pendant, and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Before she could say anything, a frightening smile appeared briefly on his face, and Hermione could feel her heart stop for just that moment.
"Just a trinket," he repeated slowly, and his eyes went over to her face, drinking in her features. "A trinket with a magical aura around it?"
Hermione shrugged, her mind curiously blank at the moment.
"Where did you get it from?" he asked, turning the pendant over and examining it.
"France," she said, remembering her trip to it during her fourth year. "I went there with my parents a couple of years ago and bought it there."
She prayed that there wasn't some sort of inscription on the damned pendant because if there were, it would definitely put a hole in her story. Even worse, if there was something written in Parseltongue there—was there even a written language for Parseltongue? Hermione racked through her brains, but she could not recall a text stating that there was such a thing. Then again, there weren't many known Parselmouths out there and if there were a written language …
She did not dare to look at the necklace, knowing that it would be too suspicious for her to do so.
"I see," Voldemort said slowly after a while.
Much to her relief, he dropped it, and before she had time to think, his mouth was on hers again and kissing her hungrily.
And she could only hope that he hadn't seen something strange about the pendant lying innocently on her chest.

~-0-~
When they Apparated back into the Head's office, Hermione was surprised to see Harry and Ginny nowhere in sight.
"Where's—"
Before Hermione could finish her question, a red fox ran up to her and started tugging her cloak. The color of its fur was strikingly similar to a particular redhead's hair color.
"Merlin … Ginny, is that you?" Hermione squeaked as she knelt down and looked at the red fox.
Those were definitely Ginny's eyes.
"Who did this to—" Hermione's eyes landed on Snape, and the answer became clear to her. Narrowing her eyes ever so slightly at the current Headmaster, she looked back at Ginny. "Where's Harry?"
The red fox pointed with its paw towards the toad that was hopping towards them.
A soft chuckle came from above her, and Hermione was certain that Voldemort was having the time of his life right now, watching Ginny and Harry in their predicament. Snape, on the other hand, probably realized that his master was not going to punish him and now had a faint smirk on his face.
"My Lord," Snape murmured and knelt on the floor.
"Now, now, Severus. How are you going to explain to Lily why her son turned into a toad all of a sudden?" Voldemort asked lazily.
"Harry insisted upon searching the castle for Miss Granger, so I had no other choice but to … keep him restrained in some way," Snape replied, the smirk becoming more apparent by the second.
"I see," Voldemort said, rubbing his chin as if in thought.
Hermione didn't even bother shooting Voldemort a glare—she knew how pointless it would be. None of them made any move to change Harry and Ginny back, so she pulled out her wand and tried to reverse the Transfiguration Snape did. After trying a couple of different methods, a red light surrounded Harry and Ginny, and they were finally back to their human forms.
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry muttered as Ginny shot a glare at Snape.
Voldemort watched the scene play out before him with indifference. Neither did he stop Hermione nor helped her. When she looked towards him, a glint of amusement flashed through his eyes before he turned towards Snape.
"Severus."
"Yes, my Lord."
"For the time being, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Draco shall be staying in Hogwarts," Voldemort instructed. Looking at the ferret on the table, a smirk appeared on his face. "They will be staying in the Room of Requirement."
"Yes, my Lord," Snape answered.
With a flick of his wand, Draco's cage was lifted into the air. A squeak left the ferret's mouth, and Draco started scurrying around in the cage in panic.
"Follow me," Voldemort ordered the other three time travelers.
Hermione thought it strange that Harry followed Voldemort's instructions without a fuss, or at least, without questions. However, she then realized that it must be because he did not want to cause his parents any trouble. For the time being, Voldemort had advantages over them, and until they settled down for a bit longer, she had no idea how to work the situation in their favor just yet.
And so, the party of four went through the hallways of Hogwarts with Draco floating a couple of feet ahead of them. Hermione supposed that they were heading towards the Room of Requirement, based on what he had said to Snape and from the direction they were heading.
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Harry muttered to Hermione while they were walking, and Ginny looked over at her in concern.
Hermione's cheeks flushed red as she looked at Voldemort from the corner of her eye.
"No … he didn't," Hermione replied softly, thankful that Voldemort had not heard Harry's question. She could already imagine the mocking and teasing glances he would send them.
Harry didn't seem to believe her, though she had no idea why. Nonetheless, he didn't continue pressing on, and for that, Hermione felt relieved.
When they reached the seventh floor, Voldemort paced three times in front of the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Once the door appeared, he opened it and turned towards the three of them.
"What specifications did you put on it?" Harry immediately asked.
Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow. "That is none of your concern, Potter. Or should I call you Evans?" A condescending snort left his mouth. "Such an intelligent choice, to use the maiden name of your mother. I'm sure nobody would ever make the connection that Harry Evans is Harry Potter."
An angry blush appeared on Harry's face, yet he did not look away.
Hermione spoke up instead. "You've made the Room of Requirement into a prison without bars, didn't you? You're not imprisoning us."
"Who said anything about imprisoning you?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Because you're you," Hermione retorted. "You're concerned that if we're allowed to run around the wizarding world freely, other wizards and witches would find out what kind of power you're really seeking."
A smirk appeared on his face. "And what makes you think that other people would believe in what you tell them about me, Granger?" Before Hermione could say something, he continued, "Things are different, dear. They trust me more than their own parents. I do not need to worry about random individuals going around and spreading unfounded rumors about me."
Not if that person is the son of one of your loyal followers, Hermione thought, but knew better than to say that out loud.
"Then let us set up the Room of Requirement by ourselves, if you're really unafraid about that," Hermione challenged.
A glint of annoyance flashed through Voldemort's eyes. "Granger, that wouldn't make any difference—"
"Quite the contrary. It would make all the difference in the world. At least we wouldn't have to worry about being stuck in there with no way out," Hermione interrupted him.
"Granger," Voldemort hissed, striding up to her. A pale hand shot out and caught her chin, tilting it upwards towards him.
Almost out of reflex, Harry and Ginny's wands were out and pointed towards Voldemort.
"Harry, Ginny, no!" Hermione yelled.
A nasty grin appeared on Voldemort's serpentine face, and he looked at them from the corner of his eye. With a fluid move, he turned Hermione around so that her back was pressed against his front.
"Forgot who your parents are following now, Potter, Weasley?" Voldemort sneered.
"Let go of Hermione," Harry said quietly, his wand unwavering.
"Oh, are you going to duel me now, Harry? Forgot about what happened to our wands?" Voldemort asked.
Harry's eyes flickered. Because of what happened between Hermione and Voldemort's duel back in the forties, he had no way of knowing who had won. The connection had broken off before they could tell.
"I don't care. Let go of her," Harry replied.
With a flick of his free hand, his wand appeared, and Voldemort eyed Harry. "And if I say no?"
"Harry, please," Hermione pleaded. She then glared at the man holding on to her. "This is cheating."
Voldemort smirked. "I'm a Slytherin, dear."
Hermione opened her mouth, but before she could say something, a spell left Voldemort's wand. Harry and Ginny jumped to the sides just in time to avoid the impact.
A scream of frustration left Hermione's mouth, and she started struggling against his hold.
"Thanks for making things difficult, dear. Victories are never fun when they're easily gained," Voldemort laughed beside her ear.
She reached for her wand, but much to her irritation, it was no longer where it should be, and there was no question who had snitched it. Since she could no longer use magic on him, she tried to kick him, but it seemed to have no effect on him. Either he was taking the pain really well or he had protected himself with a spell earlier on. Hermione was betting on the latter.
The attacks went on, but Harry and Ginny did not dare to fire their own spells back at Voldemort, in fear that they might accidentally hurt Hermione instead.
Suddenly, Voldemort Disapparated with Hermione. Before Harry and Ginny had the chance to blink, a spell impacted them from behind and sent them flying through the air. With shouts, the two of them landed inside the Room of Requirement. The cage holding Draco floated inside, and the last things Harry, Ginny, and Draco saw as the door slammed shut were the smirking features of Lord Voldemort and the still struggling Hermione Granger.

~-0-~

A/N: Many thanks to MaraudersWolf for beta-ing this chapter. Special thanks to Nerys for going over the chapter to check for logic and flow. Huge thanks to those of you who read, rated, and especially those of you who reviewed: iheartskittle, Relatela, Rena, somebody nfrench, Lady Miya, Fleur K., bookaholic, SarahLuvsZombehs, Tourniquette, TwistedBeauty, Aviendha, w;lcmw;fcm, danielle w, and fangirlinchains!
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Somewhere in Time