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
- 52
- 53
- 54
Chapter 53

"Oh, shit," Draco cursed under his breath when he saw who had appeared.
The moment Tom's eyes landed on them, Draco immediately tried to struggle away from Hermione, who was currently supporting him with an arm around his waist.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.
"Get off me, Granger. Let go of me," he growled.
"Don't be silly. Your ankle's hurt, and you're not going to get yourself hurt even more just because of your fear of Tom," she hissed as she readjusted her arm that Draco had just managed to push away.
"Well, this is cozy." Tom's voice, though soft, traveled clearly into each and every person's ears, and Hermione could feel Draco stiffen beside her.
"Let go of me. Now," he demanded, increasing the strength with which he was trying to push Hermione away.
Suddenly, Hermione had no idea how it happened, but Draco lost his balance, and crashed into her. With a loud "Oomph!" she fell onto the snow, and another grunt left her mouth when Draco managed to collapse right on top of her.
"Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, his voice laced with pain as he tried to get off her.
"Ow!" Hermione yelled when Draco's elbow nudged into her ribs when he fell yet again.
Before she could "nicely" suggest to Draco to roll over onto the snow so that she could get up first, he was pulled off her body. She couldn't do anything but stare as Tom shoved Draco towards Abraxas Malfoy. Draco's whimpers of pain snapped her out of it, and she scowled at Tom.
"He's hurt," she said angrily as she sat up.
He merely gazed at her; the intensity in his dark eyes made her still on the spot as her anger ebbed away at an alarmingly quick rate. Without warning, her cheeks flared up and her frown disappeared, regardless of the fact that she was sitting in the snow. The moment he held out his hand, she grasped it without much hesitation, letting him pull her up to her feet.
Once again, Hermione silently cursed the gods for the unfairness of it all. Though he was already drop-dead gorgeous when he was back at Hogwarts, he even more attractive now with five years added to his age. Not that she was complaining, of course, since she did secretly mourn to herself when she thought she was never going to see the handsome version of him anymore. Snakeface did have a way of charming people, but when he had this face, she could just sit there and stare at him for the whole day.
His hair was just as neatly set as she remembered, and his eyes—were his eyes darker than they were before, or was she imagining things?—still had that red glint that could only be seen at the right angles. Along with his black robes, they formed a sharp contrast to the pure white snow they were standing in. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he no longer had to parade around with that innocent façade, but even though his features briefly softened when he faced her, there was still that aura of darkness surrounding him, reminding her more of the future Lord Voldemort than the one she had known back in Hogwarts.
At that moment, she was unpleasantly reminded of the time when he tricked—would trick her as Professor Riddle. She was just contemplating on whether to hex or bite him when the sounds of people running towards them reminded her that they had pursuers. Now was not exactly the time to piss off the only person who had the chance to save them from Grindelwald's clutches.
Besides, there was something else far more important.
She poked her finger into his chest. "How did you know there was a strange, locked box in Ernsta's bedroom? Why and when did you go in there?"
Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "You're asking that now?"
"Yes, I'm asking that now," Hermione replied firmly.
"When you're getting hunted down by, give or take, twenty to thirty people?" Tom asked.
Good point.
Hermione frowned. "Fine. But we're going to talk about this later."
The two men who were ahead of the crowd chasing them let out a triumphant shout when they caught sight of the four time travelers, and they quickened their footsteps. However, when they were mere steps away from grabbing Harry and Ginny, they fell backwards into the snow with a yell, as if they had just crashed into some kind of invisible wall—Hermione wouldn't be too surprised if they did, given whose presence they were in. She glanced upwards towards Tom and found him gazing at the two men on the ground with a cold smirk.
"What day did you arrive?" Tom asked as he glanced back at her.
After deciding that this was information that she need not keep from him, Hermione answered, "Around a week ago."
Displeasure crossed over his features so quickly that she nearly didn't catch it. She wondered what he was displeased about.
The next moment, his lips curved upwards sarcastically. "Around a week and you managed to get Gellert Grindelwald on your trail. Impressive."
"Not my fault that you decided to kill Dietfried," she retorted.
His smile widened, but he didn't answer as his eyes moved away from her to look ahead. With a fluid movement, he steered her behind him and walked forward as Gellert Grindelwald appeared amidst his followers. Hermione took the chance and slipped over to where Harry and Ginny were standing.
"Are you alright?" she asked Ginny.
"Don't worry. I'm still alive," Ginny said, giving her a wink as Harry cast another blood-stopping spell at her wound.
Hermione was about to say something when Grindelwald spoke up.
"Lord Voldemort, I assume." He stood some ten feet away from Tom, still sporting a genial smile and the Elder Wand in his hand.
Tom tilted his head to one side. "Gellert Grindelwald."
Grindelwald subtly let his eyes run over Tom, and for a moment, Hermione thought that she saw a glint of skepticism flash through his eyes, but the next second, it was gone, replaced by the same easygoing friendliness.
"I welcome you to Germany," Grindelwald said with a gentlemanly bow, though he never kept his eyes off Tom.
Amused, Tom looked towards the skies. "I suppose that was your welcoming present. You must forgive me then, for … tearing apart your 'gift.'"
Disbelief triggered a soft murmur amongst Grindelwald's followers; even Grindelwald himself seemed to be slightly surprised by the competence of this young man standing in front of him.
"You must forgive me for being such a horrible host. You see, before I could prepare for your arrival, four youngsters who were involved in the death of one of my best friends appeared. I had to place the anti-Apparition wards to prevent them from escaping." Grindelwald's eyes flickered over the four of them.
"Is that so?" Tom asked softly. Slowly, his lips curved into a smirk. "And you plan on capturing them now?"
The challenge in his words caused multiple sharp intakes of breath amongst Grindelwald's followers. Surprisingly, Grindelwald managed to keep his face collected, and Hermione could not even find a trace of anger in his expression.
"I'm simply asking for them to come back with me to—hm … whatever is left of Dietfried's house and explain things. I'm sure that if they give them a satisfactory and thorough account of what had happened, Ernsta and Paulos would not harm them in the slightest." Grindelwald nodded towards Meinhardt, who nodded in return, giving them a wordless promise that he would not hurt the time travelers.
"Whatever is left of Dietfried's house?" Tom inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh yes. It took us a while before we could get the fire from the Fiendfyre Curse under control, so that we can reverse the spell," Grindelwald replied. "Fascinating skill in spell-casting, I must say."
"The Fiendfyre Curse …" Tom said softly.
A furious blush colored Hermione's cheeks. In her defense, she couldn't think of a mild spell that could hinder Meinhardt and Grindelwald long enough for them to make their escape, and they were lucky that they had Harry's invisibility cloak with them. If they didn't take Grindelwald by surprise, Hermione was certain that he could've stopped it immediately.
Then again, she shouldn't worry about getting reprimanded on casting the curse anyway. The worst thing that could happen to her was Tom's eternal mocking about a Gryffindor resorting to the Dark Arts instead of using Ministry-approved spells.
"We do realize that the two ladies must have been worried about their beloveds' safety, which was why they decided to use the Fiendfyre Curse to get out of trouble. However, rest assured, we will not hold that against them," Grindelwald said.
Tom's eyes narrowed, and Hermione could see him stiffen for a barely noticeable time fragment. Though he didn't say anything, she could feel the annoyance roll off him in waves.
Draco's mouth dropped open, and he struggled to move forward, but the pain in his ankle prevented him from doing so without help. Abraxas, nonetheless, held him back rather than helped him, perhaps afraid to do so without instructions from his Lord.
"Wait—No. No, no, no. I'm not her 'beloved.' I'm just her friend, comrade, companion! Not her beloved," Draco protested from where he was standing. "You've gotten it completely wrong. I have nothing to do with her—well, we're friends, but I do nothave any amorous intentions towards her. I never did and I never will."
Tom glanced backwards. "Silence him."
"Yes, my Lord," Abraxas murmured before waving his wand at Draco and placing the Silencing Charm on him.
Tom looked back at Grindelwald, not a trace of anger left on his impassive face. "I thought the case of Dietfried's death was already closed."
Grindelwald looked at him, genuine surprise flashing over his face. "Yes, it was. However, we also came to the conclusion that the boy couldn't have singlehandedly killed Dietfried. He must have had accomplices."
He stared at Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Draco in turn.
Boy? He couldn't possibly mean Nicholas, could he? Hermione's mouth dropped open, and she stared at Tom disbelievingly as Ginny, who had probably arrived at the same conclusion, gasped. Well, they shouldn't be surprised; it wasn't exactly the first time he had framed someone for his deeds, but this was … this was far too much. They hardly knew Nicholas! Hermione was so going to have a talk with him when they got out of this.
When Tom did not say anything, Grindelwald continued, "Of course, we are not saying that your … friends? Or are they your … followers?"
The patronizing tone of voice he had adopted clearly showed that he did not view Tom as a potential threat. In any other situations, Hermione would've found it funny; it was like a warped version of history rewritten right in front of her face. Voldemort had underestimated Harry, which was half of the reason why he had lost, and now Grindelwald was doing the same exact thing.
Much to Hermione's surprise, however, Tom didn't seem angry about his question. His lips curved slightly upwards before Hermione realized why: He wanted Grindelwald to underestimate him, and Hermione wouldn't be surprised if Grindelwald knew this. However, with all of Grindelwald's brilliance, it would have been impossible for him to take Tom seriously. Tom looked much too young to him to be a potential threat, and Hermione was sure that Tom was suppressing his magic, preventing Grindelwald from knowing the true limits of his proficiency—she knew because she had already felt it during Hunting Day, when he momentarily allowed his magic to run unrestrained due to anger. It was not something that could be expected from someone who was Tom's age.
Grindelwald perhaps had expected Tom to answer because the pause was unnaturally long, and as the amusement on Tom's face continued to grow, so did the annoyance in Grindelwald's eyes. Yet, she had no idea how the latter maintained that amiable smile on his face in such an awkward situation. Although Hermione had to admit that his expression was disconcerting, to say the least, and anyone else would have realized that this was probably a good time to run for the hills.
"Your … acquaintances then," Grindelwald concluded, his words coming out just slightly more forced than they previously were, though he had managed to hide the displeasure in his eyes by now.
His fingers ran along the length of the Elder Wand, and Hermione could almost see the wheels of his mind turning, determining which spells to use on the insolent young man who dared to be so haughty in front of him.
"We are not saying that the four of them necessarily had a hand in Dietfried's death. We simply want a few words with them," Grindelwald continued.
Silence hung in the air for a while, as if everyone were waiting with bated breath for Tom's reaction.
"No."
The word dropped from Tom's lips like a boulder from a cliff; though he spoke with his signature soft voice, every person present heard his answer clearly. The mask of pleasantness visibly cracked as Grindelwald narrowed his eyes, and his grip around the Elder Wand tightened until his knuckles turned white. The mouths of a couple of Grindelwald's followers dropped open again; enragement appeared on others' faces. However, one move was uniform amongst them—they all reached for their wands. Upon seeing this, Tom's Knights pulled out their wands, too.
Before either side could open fire, Grindelwald extended his arm, signaling for his followers to stop, as he shot a warning glance towards all of them. Tom raised his hand, and though reluctant, his Knights lowered their wands.
Grindelwald turned his attention back to Tom. "I think you may be misunderstanding some—"
"Oh no, Gellert," Tom interrupted him idly. "I think I understand precisely what you're asking for. Even if you were to word yourself differently, the answer will be the same: No."
Meinhardt said something loudly in German before taking a step forward. "Who do you think you are? You are in Germany right now, not safely in your stronghold of England, in the arms of your mummy—" An ugly sneer appeared on his face. "—if you even have as much power as your title dictates. Lord Voldemort, is it? For someone so young, you are sure arrogant to name yourself like that, and if you—"
His words suddenly turned into screams; Hermione had no idea when it happened, but Tom's wand was out and pointing towards Meinhardt. Surprise sprinted across Grindelwald's face, and then the Elder Wand slashed through the air. Tom merely quirked his wand a quarter of an inch to the side seconds before the flash of blue hit him, and the spell hit his Shield Charm instead. With impossibly quick moves, he sent three spells right back at Grindelwald, who seemed even more surprised than angry at this point.
With a flick of the Elder Wand, Grindelwald conjured a Shield Charm, too, before throwing another two spells towards Tom. Hermione's heart nearly stopped when the spells almost hit him. However, seconds before they collided into him, Tom flicked his wand, successfully deflecting it, rather than blocking it. The spells gained even more momentum as they propelled themselves through the air before finally hitting Meinhardt, who was being helped up by two of Grindelwald's followers.
Meinhardt doubled over, bringing those two men down with him as he screamed at the top of his lungs. Hermione had no idea which spells did what, but when she looked closely at Meinhardt, she saw that the front of his robes had melted as well as a good portion of the skin at the front of his body as if someone had just poured acid on him. A horrified looked appeared on Grindelwald's face, but he dared not move, wary that Tom might take that chance to attack him.
The smile on Tom's face turned vicious as he watched the spell eat into the flesh of Meinhardt's chest. Blood spilled out of the wound onto the ground beneath Meinhardt. Indecisiveness flashed through Grindelwald's face as the metallic smell of blood wafted over everyone's noses.
"Dear Godric …" Ginny whimpered softly before burying her head in Harry's chest.
The snow beneath Meinhardt was stained a glaring red color now, and Hermione knew that if something wasn't done now, he would die. Grindelwald seemed to have come to the same conclusion because from where he was standing, he flicked his wand towards Meinhardt twice, and a brown flash of light followed by a forest green spell hit Meinhardt where the curse had.
It seemed like the spell had been reversed, since the wound did not seem to be growing bigger, though Hermione could not be sure. Meinhardt's screams had died down into whimpering and ragged pants—he no longer had the strength to scream. Tears streamed down his youthful face, and his eyes were wide, unseeing as it stared straight above towards the skies.
"You've stopped the spell from continuing to eat into the skin," Tom said quietly.
For a split second, Hermione wondered why he was stating the obvious, but when she saw the malicious smile on his face, she realized that he wasn't finished yet.
"But you know that he will die within ten minutes if he doesn't get any help," he continued as he twirled the yew wand idly between his long fingers. "The snow isn't going to help him."
"Stop it," one of the followers holding onto Meinhardt said. Strangely enough, the young man did not have a German accent, just like Meinhardt, and his features …
The blood drained from Hermione's face. The young man's features were far too similar to Meinhardt for it to be a coincidence. The only difference was that Meinhardt had white hair while the young man had dark blond. Her eyes flickered between the young man and the dying man on the ground, and she realized that he must be Meinhardt's son.
"In fact, the cold might just increase the speed with which he's going to die," Tom said as if he hadn't heard what the young man had said. "A curious little spell, the Curse of Korsak, isn't it?"
The Curse of Korsak … oh no …
Hermione clasped her hand over her mouth as it dropped open. She wanted to help Meinhardt. She really, really did; his wife and he were both kind to her and Ginny when they first arrived in Germany, regardless of how aggressive he was this time. Besides, he had a reason—he thought that they had something to do with Dietfried's death. But how could she help him? She doubted Tom would listen to her in this situation, especially when Meinhardt had basically signed his own death warrant the moment he mocked Tom.
Tom's dark eyes slid over to Grindelwald, and his smile deepened. "He has approximately six minutes before he starts retching out his organs. Do you think you can manage to find all the necessary potions in time?"
Grindelwald's teeth were clenched together, and for the first time since Hermione saw him, the merriment on his face and eyes had completely disappeared, replaced by a frightening amount of fury. Tendrils of his magic reached out, nearly causing Hermione to suffocate. However, Tom looked like he was completely unaffected.
Suddenly, Grindelwald said something to Meinhardt's son in German. Hermione presumed that he was ordering the young man to take his father somewhere safe first. The young man seemed to be protesting about something before he turned his angry glare onto Tom. Grindelwald said something again, but before the young man could say anything, a string of German came out of Tom's mouth, successfully surprising everyone on Grindelwald's side again. Grindelwald's eyes turned calculating as he studied Tom anew, and hints of cautiousness speckled his expression.
Hermione's attention was then caught by Meinhardt's son when he stood up. She took a step forward, worried about how they were going to go about bringing Meinhardt to safety.
"You can't use Apparition in his condition," Hermione reminded him.
The blond adjusted his glare on Hermione, and momentarily, it softened when he realized that the care she had expressed was genuine.
"I know. Thank you," he answered, and with a flick of his wand, he levitated his father.
Steadily but quickly, he moved in the direction of the town, and once they were out of sight, Grindelwald turned to face them again.
"We shall meet again," he said quietly to Tom.
Tom nodded, no longer bothering to hide the smirk on his face. "We shall."
Grindelwald snapped his fingers, and simultaneously, he and his followers Disapparated. Meinhardt's blood in the snow became obnoxiously noticeable, now that there was no one standing around that area. Hermione felt her stomach churn upon remembering the worry and anger on Meinhardt's son's face. She silently hoped that Meinhardt would make it through.
"Back to the cabin," Tom commanded, turning back to his followers.
A murmur of "Yes, my Lord" was then followed by the sounds of his Knights Disapparating. Before Draco could say anything, Abraxas held onto him and Disapparated, too.
Cabin … he couldn't possibly mean …
Hermione glanced at him with raised eyebrows.
"Where did they go?"
Tom's lips curved into a smile again. "Don't you already know the answer?"
~-0-~
The moment he arrived in Slytherin's cabin, his followers knelt down in front of him, and Hermione could barely stop herself from rolling her eyes. Unannounced, the image of herself doing the same thing came to her mind, and she promptly started to mentally recite Hogwarts, A History.
That was definitely not her.
The Knights were ordered out of the cabin, and Hermione had to stifle a laugh when she realized that they were going to set up tents outside the cabin as their temporary "rooms." This was what she called retribution, albeit a strange one. Though it would've been funnier and more just if their lord and master joined them, too.
Once the five of them were left in the cabin, Tom's eyes fell on the rations they had stolen from the town, and amusement appeared on his face yet again.
"Didn't bother to look for food in the kitchen?" he asked.
"There's nothing edible in there," Hermione retorted, "unless you call rotten tomatoes and dust-covered bread 'food.'"
"It never occurred to you that Slytherin would've had a magical preservation area beneath the floorboards?" Tom asked, even more entertained now.
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. "How are we supposed to know that he would have something like that?" she grumbled.
Her anger was pushed away the moment Ginny slumped down in one of the chairs, her face pale.
"Does Slytherin have any Blood Replenishing Potions in here?" Hermione asked Tom.
"The curse is just going to let her lose it all again," he answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "She'll need to get that wound healed one of these days."
"Well, it's easy for you to say," Hermione said bossily. "She'll need the proper potions and spells need to be cast on the wound before and after she takes the potions. The potion could take weeks to brew up, and—"
"Magical preservation area," Tom interrupted her, an annoying smirk on his face.
Hermione's mouth snapped shut. It never really occurred to her that Slytherin would bother to keep antidotes to the Curse of Korsak in his basement. In fact, the thought of him getting wounded never really crossed her mind. Though the person who murdered him was standing right in front of her, it was still mind-boggling to think in that direction. After all, it was Salazar Slytherin, not just some other random bloke off the street.
"And I suppose you know the counter-curse as well," she deduced, thoroughly annoyed by that look on his face.
"I suppose so," Tom said offhandedly.
Hermione pulled out her wand and gazed at Tom. His eyes slid downwards to her wand before slowly making their way back to her face, his expression indecipherable.
"We'll need the potions," Hermione said.
Tom flicked his wand, and a vial of potion flew out from the kitchen and landed with a soft "clunk" on the table in front of Ginny.
The subconscious need to check everything Tom gave them stirred inside her, but Hermione decidedly pushed it down. If he really wanted to kill them, he would've used other ways. But what if he wanted answers? What if he wanted to know more about their future? How much did he know about the wacky future? Did he know that the future had changed because of the time travelers' presence?
However, Ginny's current condition frightened her, and she had no idea if the redhead could make it through the night without proper treatment to the curse.
Hermione determinedly ignored her fears and uneasiness and looked at Tom.
"And now?" she asked.
Tom tilted his head towards the vial. "She takes the potion and then the counter-curse will have to be cast on the wound."
"What's the spell?"
"Lahkvusip porunthos," Tom answered.
Hermione continued staring at him, and he tilted his head to one side. For a moment, she wondered if he were purposely playing dumb with her.
"What are the wand movements?" she asked, her tone of voice much more impatient by now.
That ire-invoking smirk appeared on his face again. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm lead to believe that you are … inquiring about this so that you may perform the spell on Miss Weasley."
Hermione let out a huff of indignation. "Well, why else will I be asking you about this?"
"Perhaps to check if I weren't casting some illegal Dark Arts on her, or to make sure that I'm not trying to murder her in front of three eyewitnesses," Tom answered.
His stare was full of malicious joy, like he was enjoying some kind of private joke, and Hermione suddenly realized that the four of them hadn't exactly been inconspicuous about their suspicions. Ginny was staring at the vial of potions as if she were expecting it to jump up and bite her. Harry had a deep frown etched on his forehead, his eyes on the bottle, too. Draco was still trying to hide himself—rather unsuccessfully—behind Harry.
Then, she realized what he was implying.
"Wait, you're going to cast the spell on Ginny?" Hermione asked.
"No one else here knows how to perform the spell," he answered simply.
The moment they understood what that meant, Ginny's face turned couple of shades paler, and Harry immediately stepped forward.
"Show me how to do the spell then. I'll do it," Harry said.
"Or you could show me, and I'll do it," Hermione added.
Tom looked at them in turn, the amusement on his face growing exponentially by the second. "Pray tell, when did the two of you become proficient in the Dark Arts? And I don't mean the Unforgivables. If Crabbe and Goyle can manage to perform those spells with a certain level of aptitude, anyone can. Show me something more advanced than the Fiendfyre Curse."
Hermione bit down on the inside of her cheeks. Even though she—even though wacky Hermione did get some training in the Dark Arts, the most complex one was precisely the Fiendfyre Curse, and she knew that this was the case with Harry, too.
"Why are you helping Ginny?" Harry asked, not bothering to hide the distrust from his face.
"Would you prefer me not to, Potter?"
"What do you think you're getting out of this?" Hermione demanded.
"Must I do everything for a reason?" Tom asked.
"Yes," Hermione deadpanned.
Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "Does it look like I can get anything out of this? Using the hard-to-get potions created by Salazar Slytherin himself—"
"Who was killed by you," Hermione added.
"—and performing spells that took a lot of time to perfect?" Tom asked.
"A lot of time," Hermione repeated with a snort. "Do you mean twenty minutes? Or an hour?"
They stared at one another for a while before a faint smile appeared on Tom's face. "So do you want to heal Weasley or not?"
"I'll—I'll just take the potion—" Ginny stuttered. "—it will still work, wouldn't it? Perhaps slower, but—"
Tom's expression turned impassive as he turned his attention towards the redhead. "It'll be a waste of potions. With the spell, you will only need six vials of it in comparison to eighteen."
And Hermione doubted he would be generous enough to allow that to happen.
Suddenly, without warning, Tom took out his wand and pointed it at Ginny. A frightened yelp left Ginny's mouth, and though she looked completely exhausted from the loss of blood, she somehow mustered enough strength to move herself to the side while Harry rushed forward towards her in alarm. The spell that left Tom's wand hit her straight in the chest.
"EEK!"
For a moment, Hermione wondered if Tom really did harm Ginny until she saw the horrified expression on the redhead's face. Hermione's mouth dropped open the moment she saw the reason: Ginny's robes had disappeared.
"Tom!" Hermione screeched as Ginny tried to cover herself with the arm that was unhurt.
Harry quickly went over to Hermione's sachet, took out the invisibility cloak, hurried over to where Ginny was, and held it up in front of her. However, it was not before Hermione got a glimpse of just how bad Ginny's injury was. Perhaps it was something similar to but a slower version of the Curse of Korsak, since the curse seemed to be continuously expanding. Right now, it ran from Ginny's wrists and up the entire length of her arm. From Hermione's viewpoint, she couldn't be sure if it also traveled down her back.
"Feel lucky that I was just trying to vanish your sleeve this time," Tom said coldly, unfazed by the things happening in front of them. "I'm not responsible for any glued-together limbs or organs if you move while I perform the counter-curse on you."
"The least you could've done was warned her about what you were going to do," Hermione said angrily.
"And I'm certain that will make Miss Weasley believe that I'm not about to kill her on the spot," Tom said wryly. He looked back towards Harry, his eyes flickering slightly when they landed on the invisibility cloak.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She wondered if he knew about the three Deathly Hallows, and it worried her that he might try to get it from Harry. She would have to think of a way to discourage him, or at least, think of a way to prevent him from taking the cloak from Harry. She looked at Ginny and found the redhead staring back at her with an anxious look. It worried Hermione that Tom also knew how important Ginny was to Harry. Thankfully, he hadn't thought about using the Weasleys to lure out Harry while they were Horcrux hunting—she wondered if the multiple soul-splitting and Dark spells he had cast on himself had also done something to his intelligence—but she knew that he wouldn't even hesitate about using Ginny as a bait now.
"Merlin, I knew you were freckly, but this is beyond imagination," Draco muttered, though his embarrassment was apparent from the red tinge on his face.
"Stop looking, ferret," Harry snapped.
"Nobody wants to see all those freckles, Potty," Draco said hotly.
"That's what you were doing," Harry argued.
"It's not as if I had a choice, is it? Her clothes disappeared before any of us knew it was going to happen," Draco said. With a sneer, he added, "Why not cover her face while you're at it, too, Potty? She has freckles there, too."
"You're in the way of my spell-casting, Potter," Tom said, cutting into their argument.
With a frown, Harry maneuvered his hands so that Ginny was still covered up, but he was out of Tom's way. Once Tom was done with the spell-casting, Harry made it a point to stand in front of Ginny with the invisibility cloak until she was fully clothed so that no one could see her nude again. This made Draco roll his eyes, but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut, since Harry was obviously thoroughly annoyed with the whole situation and at a breaking point.
They were then left with the problem of who was staying where at night. During the whole time the time travelers had stayed in the cabin, they had slept in what might have been a living room, since they couldn't find bedrooms. However, all except Hermione were rather wary about sleeping in the same room as Tom. Hermione found this a bit stupid, to be honest. If he'd really wanted to attack them in their sleep, he would've done so while they were staying at Dietfried's house.
It turned out that the cabin had two bedrooms concealed by magic, and Hermione was sure that those wards were not something that could have been taken down by outsiders. She had a hunch that Slytherin must have kept valuable things, such as books on magic and other artifacts in there when he was alive. More likely than not, all of them had been "borrowed" by Tom.
The sleeping arrangements were designated by Tom, and Hermione's embarrassment reached an all-time high when Tom insinuated that she would not be sharing a room with Harry, Draco, and Ginny, especially when the three of them avoided her eyes afterwards. She would have tried to talk Tom out of it, but it was obvious from the look in his eyes that he wouldn't take any of her suggestions into consideration.
"Oh, this is humiliating," Hermione moaned as she covered her face with her hands and sat down on the bed.
"It's not the first time they've seen something like this happen," Tom said with a pleased smirk, taking off his cloak and hanging it on the back of an armchair.
"The least you could've done was be a bit more inconspicuous," she said, scrunching up her face.
"Oh?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow at her and leaning against the table. "What am I supposed to say then? 'The four of you will stay in this room tonight. Hermione, you are to sneak into my room in the middle of night when you're certain that they're asleep'? Don't be ridiculous."
"Right, like that would be any less obvious," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She threw her hands up in the air in defeat. "Oh, never mind."
Pushing himself away from the table, he walked over to where she was sitting, towering over her. She glanced at him as he placed one of his knees on the bed and placed a hand under her chin, rubbing her jawline softly.
"I can't understand your worries," he admitted as he looked into her eyes.
She lowered her eyes and sighed. "I know."
His closeness suddenly made her shy, even though she shouldn't be. It had only been around a week since she'd seen him, even if the one she had seen was the snake-like version of him.
Memories about the wacky timeline, however, made her remember something, something infuriating concerning a certain "Professor Riddle," that she needed to pay him back for.
Mustering all the strength she could, she pushed him away. Taken by surprised, he stumbled backwards, hitting his waist against the armchair and yelling out of pain. Before he could react, she had already gotten up and kicked him hard in the shin. It made a small smile appear on her face when he let out a yell, but it wasn't enough. It was too small of a punishment for his "crime."
She raised her leg and was about to kick him in the groin, when he suddenly moved out the way. Her foot impacted the back of the chair instead, causing her face to scrunch up in pain, and she grasped onto her foot with her hand and leaned against the bed as she glared at the one who was to be blamed for this. Usually, that look on Tom's face would've caused fear to rise from the bottom of her stomach, but under the current conditions, she didn't really care. However, she immediately released her foot, despite the fact that it was still throbbing with pain—it was better to be on both feet than one if he were going to attack her.
They stood there, glaring at one another but without moving. Each of them was waiting for the other to make the first move, and none of them were willing to relinquish the false form of control they were holding.
Hermione briefly thought about using her wand but thought better of it—for the time being, it was better to not let him think about using magic because she was pretty sure that he wouldn't shy away from using darker curses that she had no idea about.
"There's nowhere you could run, Granger," he spoke quietly.
"Who said anything about running?" Hermione retorted.
His eyes glinted maliciously as his lips curved into a faint smirk. "Are you sure?"
"Of course," she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Oh, that look on his face did not make her feel safe at all. However, now that the words had already come out of her mouth, there was no way for her to take it back—or rather, her pride would not allow her to take it back.
"Excellent." The word slithered out of his lips, his tone of voice reminded her of a snake about to attack.
And then, he suddenly moved forward. With a squeak, she circled around the bed, so that she was still facing him but having an obstacle in between them.
"I thought you said you weren't going to run," he said, raising an eyebrow and his smirk turned mocking.
"This isn't running," she denied. "This is called avoiding capture."
"Is that so?" he asked.
He languidly allowed his eyes to flicker over the room, and Hermione could tell that he was doing it on purpose. The room was too small for her to keep up this game of cat and mouse for long and they both knew that.
"What, if I may ask, was that for?" he asked in a conversational tone of voice, though his eyes showed the true extent of his fury.
She had tons of reasons, but right on the top of the list was: "How did you know there was a strange, locked box in Ernsta's room?"
A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes so quickly that she almost missed it before he answered, "Legilimency."
It was such a simple answer that Hermione stared at him dumbfounded for a moment. "Legilimency?"
"How else would I know?" Tom asked. "Or—" A smirk appeared on his face. "—you were expecting me to be in her room for … other reasons."
She did not answer that question, but she thinks that her silence was telling enough, since he chuckled.
"Are you jealous?" he asked.
"Why would I be jealous about some … some ridiculous, moronic—stupid, evil lady who wants to lay her hands all over any young man she could get them on?" she snapped.
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that that was the reason why you kicked me."
Her face turned red, and she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she said, "That was for killing Dietfried."
"I recall you confronting me about this five years ago," he said.
"And for framing Nicholas," she added hastily.
His eyes slightly narrowed upon hearing her words, and he slowly crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh yes, I've forgotten about your precious Nicholas."
"Oh, grow up, Riddle," she huffed. In a mocking voice, she asked, "Are you jealous?"
Instead of answering, he stepped forward, and she took a step back. Like a snake attacking its prey, he struck. His actions were so quick that she nearly didn't have time to react. However, her body seemed to have a mind of its own and responded before her brain did. With a lithe move, she was on top of the bed, and with another jump, she landed on her feet on the floor before she hurried towards the door.
She blindly grasped the doorknob and turned it, and a groan left her mouth—she had forgotten about the damned locking spells that he knew.
Her breath hitched when a single pale, long-fingered hand pressed against the door next to her face. His other arm snaked around her waist as his body pressed against hers. His breath brushed against her hair and earlobe as he spoke softly next to her ear.
"You are in deep trouble, Miss Granger."
Before she could say something in retort, he turned her around and one of his hands grasped her chin, pulling it upwards until she was staring into those dark eyes of his.
"Legilimens."
~-0-~
"Potter, do you mind?" Draco growled as he turned around in his makeshift bed and stared at where the Nuisance Who Lived should be laying. "Just in case you haven't noticed, we'd had a long enough day with hardly any sleep last night. Therefore, I would appreciate it if you would stay still and let me sleep."
"Sorry," Harry muttered, much to Draco's surprise.
"What is your problem?" he asked, not understanding why he'd bothered to ask. Who cared if Pothead couldn't go to sleep?
A period of silence ensued, so long that Draco almost thought that Harry fell asleep.
"Sorry," he mumbled again.
Draco then heard the ruffling sounds of blankets moving, and Harry sat up and lit the candles in the room.
"It's just that … I'm worried about Hermione."
Draco heaved a sigh, turned over onto his back, and covered his eyes with his arm. "I don't see why you're so worried about her."
"She's all alone. In the room. With Riddle," Harry said.
"So? It's not like it's the first time," Draco pointed out.
“But—”

Suddenly, a muffled yell interrupted their conversation. Draco removed his arm from his eyes and ogled at the wall where the sound had come from.

“Tell me that wasn’t Riddle,” Harry whispered hoarsely.

“You heard it, too?” Draco asked, his eyes wide.

“I would be deaf not to hear that,” Harry answered. A strange expression was apparent on his face, as if he couldn’t make up his mind whether to laugh or be afraid.

“Did she just hit Riddle? Again?” Ginny asked, awestruck.

The three of them shared a look before an uneasy laugh left them. Okay, it wasn’t that Draco didn’t find it funny—he did. But if Granger managed to infuriate Riddle, said Dark Lord might find it a good idea to take it out on her friends, namely him. Draco did not fancy getting another Cruciatus session, and he was pretty sure that by now, Riddle would’ve thought of at least twenty different ways to make sure Hermione would never find out about it.

“Maybe we ought to check though. What if that was Hermione? And if it weren’t, wouldn’t Riddle be really angry with her if she just hit him? Again?” Harry asked with a frown.

“I don’t know, Potter. Judging from what happened at Dietfried’s house …” Draco said, trailing off.

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, and both Harry and Ginny turned red. Draco hoped that he didn’t need to spell it out anymore for the two of them about what actually happened in that bathroom.

“But it’s been five years already. What if things changed? What if Riddle doesn’t … care about her the way he used to?” Harry asked with some difficulty.

“Yeah, I’m sure he doesn’t care about her anymore, which is why he felt the need to yank me off her and throw me in Abraxas’s arms. Not to mention the fact that he was all over her the moment we stepped back into the wacky future,” Draco muttered.

Harry fell silent for a moment. “Okay, you do have a point there. But what if he’s angry about her? What if he thought that she was trying to run away from him or something and wanted to punish her for it?”

“Potter, have you been reading Weaselette’s romance novels?” Draco asked with his eyebrow raised.

“No,” Harry answered. “What does this have to do with that?”

“It’s a recurring theme. Wizard meets witch; they fall in love; witch disappears for unknown reason; wizard turns all anguished and ‘evil,’ vowing to take over the world, become rich, or whatever and then create an intricate plan of revenge on said witch before finding out that he still loved her because the witch will always have a wonderful reason for leaving him the first place; and then they get married and live happily ever after,” Draco answered, squiggling his fingers at them on the word “evil.”

“Hold on,” Ginny interrupted, and she stared at him. “How would you know about this?” The corner of her lips twitched. “Unless you’ve read them before.”

A blush appeared on Draco’s face. “No. Way. Weaselette. Does it look like I read romance novels? I’m just saying—” he started to say, but he was interrupted by a muffled yelp, and the three of them stared at the wall again.

“What was that?” Ginny asked.

“Granger or Riddle,” Draco replied.

“That sounded too high of a voice for Riddle,” Ginny said with a frown.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Draco said. With a lower voice but an octave higher in tone voice, he said, “I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you.”

Both Gryffindors snorted upon hearing his imitation, and they all stopped when they heard a muffled “What are you doing?”

Worry appeared on Harry’s face the moment he heard that. “But … it’s … what if he’s hurting her? I want to go see if she’s alright. I still have the invisibility cloak with me, so if his lackeys are standing outside, we can still hex them without them seeing us.”

“Yeah, right, as if Riddle wouldn’t have thought of that already and warded the doors. Get real, Potter,” Draco said.

“You don’t think he’d really … torture her, do you?” Ginny asked Harry carefully.

“I don’t know, that’s why I want to make sure,” Harry said.

“I’m not too sure it’s a good idea though, Potter,” Draco said.

“Why not? Just because Riddle and Hermione are in a relationship, it doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t hurt her.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but isn’t it kind of normal between them? Remember when we were in Dietfried’s house and they were practically at one another’s neck? And then the next thing you know it, they were snogging one another like there’s no tomorrow,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. He then shivered. “I remember this one time when I walked into Father’s room, thinking that he was torturing Mum …”

“Oh dear Godric, I do not need the mental image of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy in that kind of situation,” Ginny groaned while Harry nodded in agreement, looks of disgust on both of their faces.

“But really, I couldn’t sit on my arse for weeks after Father punished me for walking in on them,” Draco continued.

“So … you’re saying …” Ginny swallowed. “Hermione’s … being ‘tortured’ in that way.”

Draco nodded.

“But I’m still worried about her,” Harry said.

“Well, yeah, I’m more worried about her becoming the next darkest witch of the century, but to be honest, I’m not worried about her health,” Draco replied.

“Don’t be stupid, Malfoy,” Harry said.

“No, look here, Potter. I’m being completely serious. You know how she was like in the wacky future. If she becomes something like that, Merlin, I think I’d book the next Apparition schedule to Switzerland,” Draco answered.

“Yes, because Switzerland wouldn’t be on Riddle’s list of ‘Countries to Conquer’ after he had Britain under control,” Ginny said wryly.

“Good point,” Draco muttered as he ran a hand through his hair.

“But that’s … impossible. Hermione? As the darkest witch of the century …” Harry trailed off.

“That’s because you always see the good side of everyone, Mr. Let’s-Give-Everyone-A-Chance Potter,” Draco said.

Their conversation was stalled again by a loud yell.

“What the—”

“Is that Riddle squealing?” Ginny asked, her face scrunched up in concentration.

“Do you think she kneed him again?” Draco asked.

“No, that sounds more like Hermione’s … He’s hurting her. He must be hurting her. It sounds different from the previous time she screamed—” Harry said frantically as they heard a second muffled yell.

Draco perked up his ears and listened, his forehead creased into a frown. “Wait, Potter.”

“What if—”

“Hush, Potter,” Draco said with a frown.

Another sound traveled through the thin barrier of a wall into their ears, and they gazed at one another again.

“Was it just me, or did someone … er … just moan in there?” Ginny asked meekly.

“I don’t know. That sounded like something between a moan and a yell,” Draco answered with a frown.

“What if it’s some kind of new type of torturing spells that he developed?” Harry hissed.

“Perhaps it’s custom-made for Hermione,” Draco said sarcastically.

They fell silent again for a short time period before Harry spoke up again, “Do you hear anything?”

“No …” Draco said before he climbed out of his bed and grabbed the glass on the table.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked.

“Shhh …” Draco whispered before placing the glass on the wall and pressing his ear against it.

“Ohhhh …” they suddenly heard a moan from next door.

Draco did not need more evidence; he knew exactly what this meant. Dropping the glass onto the floor like a hot potato, he rushed back to his bed. “O-kay. I hope we do not have to listen to this for the whole night. I do not need this or the mental images that accompany this,” he said, throwing the feeble blanket over his head and trying to block out the noise from next door.

“What are you talking about, Malfoy?”

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Draco threw off the blanket again and sat up. “Potter, listen carefully, as in very carefully. She’s yelling, yes, but it’s not along the lines of ‘Help! Riddle’s trying to kill me!’ kind of yells,” he answered.

“Hermione’s not the type to plead for help,” Harry contradicted.

Potter was obviously trying to be stupid or he was just being in denial. Draco felt that it was probably both.

“You were there when Aunt Bella tortured her. Do you think that she would really, really just yell like that?” he asked, waving his hand towards the wall that was doing a pretty job at keeping the noise-level next door down. “This is not a distress-filled scream.” He grimaced. “This is more like the ones Aunt Bella used to make.”

“What does Bellatrix Les—oh,” Ginny said, and then her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, confused.

“You don’t want to know, Harry,” Ginny said quietly, her face turning red.

“Let’s just put it this way,” Draco said, his smirk turning vicious at the prospect of making Harry squirm. “The Dark Lord stayed at one end of the manor while I stayed at the other end. Whenever Aunt Bella is … Summoned for reasons other than killing, torturing, et cetera, I could hear this kind of yells throughout the entire night. From my room. Though I have to say, Hermione’s probably a bit louder than Aunt Bella.”

Harry and Ginny turned green upon hearing this but didn’t seem to want to rush next door and infuriate the young Dark Lord anymore. Draco let out a relieved sigh. At least he wasn’t going to be tortured for their stupidity. Well, yes, if they were going to go knock on Riddle’s door, he was definitely not going with that, but he would probably still get blamed for not trying to stop them.

“So … Bellatrix … and … and Voldemort …” Ginny whispered after a long period of hush—minus the sounds coming from next door that was.

“Yep,” Draco replied cheerfully, relishing at the disgust on Harry’s face.

“The whole night,” Harry repeated.

“Yep,” Draco answered.

“That means we’d probably have to hear this for the whole night, too?” Harry asked.

Oh. Draco hadn’t thought about that, and from the moans that were filtering through the wall, things seemed to be only at the beginning. “Er …”

“Oh Merlin,” Ginny groaned, covering her face with her hands when another moan made it through the wall.

“I do not need to hear this,” Harry said, scrunching his eyes together.

“Complaining about your girlfriend’s skill now, Potter?” Draco asked.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Ginny and Harry said in unison.

“Well, it’s obvious that they’re probably going to be at it for the whole night, so we probably can’t get sleep,” Draco said.

“That doesn’t mean that you have to make tasteless, stupid jokes about it,” Ginny snapped.

“Ohhh, grumpy. Did I mention a touchy subject?” Draco asked.

Suddenly, a tortured yell traveled into their room, and Draco slapped his forehead with his hand.

“We can probably assume that Hermione’s not being tortured then,” Ginny said slowly.

“Depends on how you look at it,” Draco muttered as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Shouldn’t we … do something about it?” Harry asked with uncertainty laced throughout his words.

“Yeah, Potter, I would like to see you go and try to tell Riddle to keep it down,” Draco said wryly.

Suddenly, another thought entered his mind, and he frantically glanced at the other two in the room.

“You don’t think … you don’t think that Riddle’s trying to control Granger like this, do you?”

“What?” Harry asked, perplexed.

“With sex. You don’t think that he’s trying to control her like this, do you?” Draco pressed on.

“Oh, don’t be stupid, Malfoy,” Harry said, brushing his comment off.

“Potter, just because you don’t possess the skills necessary to manipulate women, it doesn’t mean that others don’t,” Draco sneered, and he could imagine Harry’s face turning red at that comment. He looked towards Ginny. “Thinking about trading places with Granger now, Weaselette?”

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t know, just thought that it looked like you figured that you’ve picked the wrong boyfriend after all,” Draco said with a shrug.

A pebble hit him on the forehead.

“Ow,” he hissed as he rubbed the place where he got hit. “I was just talking about the truth, Potty. It definitely sounds like she’s having more fun than your girlfriend did.”

“Oh, shush, Malfoy. Like you’d ever heard the two of—” Ginny stopped speaking, perhaps realizing that she was saying too much.

“Of course I did,” Draco said, not bothering to hide the gleeful smirk on his face. “Room of Requirement, remember?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ginny muttered as her face turned beet red.

“You eavesdropped on us, ferret?” Harry demanded at the same time, the color of his face similar to that of Ginny’s.

“Why would I do that, Potter? Like I’ve said, it’s not as if Weaselette here had as much fun anyway,” Draco said. “Besides, the room wouldn’t allow me to silence the two of you out. The two of you were too loud.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Though not as loud as these two.” He pointed towards their “next-door neighbors.”

Weaselette seemed as if she wanted to find some burrow to hide in while Potter glanced off to the side, his face an even deeper shade of red by now.

Sighing melodramatically, Draco looked at Harry. “What a pity.”

Boy Wonder gazed at him cautiously. “What are you talking about now?”

With a condescending smirk, he said, “After all those years of following the Dark Lord around, you failed to ask him to teach you the most important skill. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“Oh, be quiet, ferret,” Harry snarled.

“Perhaps we should try Silencing Charms,” Ginny suggested delicately as she pulled out her wand and casting the spell at the wall.

They suddenly heard Hermione scream.

The three of them promptly turned pale.

“It’s not working. Why is the spell not working?” Harry asked.

“Slytherin must’ve cast some spell to prevent other people’s spells from working,” Ginny said with a frustrated frown.

They stared at one another, and even Draco could not crack another joke about their current condition.

They were in for a long night.

~-0-~

A/N: Thanks for those of you who had read, faved, and alerted the chapter. Huge, huge thanks to the following:
Grammar beta: Marauder's Wolf
Flow and logic beta: Nerys
Reviewers: Alassea Malfoy, SarahLuvsZombehs, IrishPhantom, kit, Midnightermoony, Fleur K, Nathoca, m0nt, somebody french, and TimidTemptress!
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Somewhere in Time