Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Right Place, Wrong Time?	By : Shan84 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 7811 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series nor any of the characters from the books/movies. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Author Note: Welcome to chapter 6, thanks for reading :)

"Where's Hermione?"

Tom turned and saw Tarquin standing behind him looking confused. Well, this was just swell. Couldn't he just get a moments peace to think about what had just happened? Before he could answer, Tarquin started talking again - much to Tom's annoyance.

"I could have sworn she had been working here," Tarquin mused to himself before looking at Tom again. Suddenly Tom noted that a rather uncharacteristic calculative look appeared in the Hufflepuff's eyes. "Oh no… you didn't… ask her out did you?"

Tom couldn't stop his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "I'm sorry?"

"Ask her out, you know… on a date?"

Tom simply stared at him. Surely, he had to be joking? Did that berk still think that he was actually interested in Hermione in that way?

"Because if you did," Tarquin continued, not even noticing Tom's silence, "I should have told you mate, she's already got someone," he said, nodding vigorously – as if to add weight to his 'news'.

Well, it was actually news to Tom… not that he cared about Hermione Edward's love life. Merlin, just because everyone from Hufflepuff was constantly mooning about love and friendship… It was so annoying!

"Oh," was all that Tom was able to say.

"I'm so sorry! I should have told you as soon as possible. You see, I only just found out about the bloke myself."

"Tarquin, I was certainly not asking her out," Tom answered in a tightly controlled voice. Oh how he wished he could curse the idiot!

"You didn't?" Tarquin seemed slightly confused. "Oh! Well, what a relief!" He seemed to visibly relax on behalf of Tom. Tom wanted to roll his eyes. "Where did she go off to then?"

"I'm not really sure. We were talking and she just 'up' and left." Tom put on his best 'confused' expression. Tom wondered if this could become a way to find out more information. "We were talking about her parents… she seemed to get rather upset."

A knowing look passed across Tarquin's face and Tom felt the anticipation build in his stomach. He must know something!

"She said that they were… gone," Tom said, allowing his voice to waver at all the right moments.

"They are," Tarquin nodded solemnly. "She didn't say what happened to them, just that they were gone."

"I feel terrible now," Tom replied, looking sadly at Tarquin and almost laughed as the idiot bought Tom's rather brilliant façade.

"Oh you shouldn't feel bad, you weren't to know," Tarquin replied sympathetically. "Hermione is just one secret after another. I only just found out about her parents and boyfriend… and we've been working together for a good few weeks now," he explained.

Tom mused on this. So she wasn't even telling everything to Tarquin? That berk was exactly the kind of friend that a girl would tell all of her secrets to. And yet she wouldn't discuss her family or the project she was working on. What was Hermione Edwards hiding?

"It's surprising then, that she would be travelling alone," Tom commented.

Tarquin nodded emphatically. "Now that you say it, it does seem strange… I wonder why her boyfriend didn't come with her?" Tarquin seemed to think. "She just seems to get so upset sometimes…"

Tom realised that Tarquin appeared to be currently vocalising his thoughts. He was certainly not interested in standing around talking about the feelings of Hermione Edwards, despite the fact that this new found information seemed to provide some foundation to his current understanding of her.

"Well, perhaps you should go check on her," Tom suggested. He wasn't interested in talking to Tarquin anymore. He felt that he had got as much information as possible out of this conversation.

"Good idea," he replied and Tom nodded, ready to leave. "See you later Tom," Tarquin replied genially and quickly walked off to find Hermione.

Hermione was currently sitting on her couch trying to stop the steady flow of tears that just wouldn't go away. The constant ache of missing her friends and family had finally reared its ugly head. And it happened in front of worst possible person. Mixing with her sadness, of course, was the embarrassment of being caught out. Why couldn't she - for once in her life - control her emotions?

Why couldn't she be nonchalant or even cool, calm and collected? Sure, she wasn't as hot-headed as Ron and Harry – a watery smile tugged at her mouth at the thought of those two and their 'moods' – but surely she could have done better than that!

There was a knock at her door which caused her to jump up. Who could that be? She wondered. She didn't really want to speak to anyone right now…

"Hermione? Are you there?"

Hermione recognised Tarquin's voice straight away and cringed. She didn't want him to see her so upset. Then he would ask questions and Hermione really had no idea as to how she would answer them.

"I know you're in there… open up!"

Can't he just take a hint? Hermione thought grumpily and sighed wearily as she went and opened her door.

Tarquin stood there staring at her. "Are you okay?" His face was full of concern.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," Hermione replied in a slightly wobbly voice. When she looked at his expectant expression she gestured for him to enter.

Hermione went back into her small living room with Tarquin following closely behind. Turning and facing him, she gestured him to sit on the small couch.

"Do you want a cup of tea or something?" she asked as he flopped down.

"No, I'm fine," he replied. "Sit down Hermione," he said as he patted the seat next to him.

Hermione sighed and plopped down next to him. "I'm sorry I ran off. Please don't tell your Aunt… I promise I won't make a habit of this."

"That's not why I'm here. I wanted to see if you're okay?"

Hermione looked up at him. "Yeah, I will be. It's just… um… hard sometimes."

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," he said quietly. "Although, to be honest, I still feel as though I don't even know half of it."

Hermione chuckled. "You don't know the half of it… no-one does."

"Hermione, you can talk to me. I consider us as friends. I hope you do too," he said sincerely.

Hermione felt terrible. Tarquin was a genuinely good person. He was the kind of person that she would be friends with – no matter what time period. He was a true Hufflepuff to the core… but she couldn't tell him what was really on her mind. Whilst his intentions were good, it was just too risky to tell him anything.

"Of course I consider you a friend, Tarquin," Hermione said emphatically. "It's just; I really can't talk about it."

Tarquin looked at Hermione and then sighed. "I figured as much. But when you do need to talk, well, you can talk to me."

Hermione smiled. "That means so much. Thank you."

Tarquin grinned. "Why doesn't your boyfriend come and visit? Maybe you would feel better if he was around?"

"It's kind of complicated… Ron is very, ah, tied down with his work," Hermione replied awkwardly.

Tarquin nodded. "I felt so bad before… I accused Tom of asking you out."

"You what?"

"Well, you just vanished and he was just standing there alone… so I just put two and two together and obviously got five." He chuckled. "Riddle seemed quite concerned about you though."

"Really?" Hermione's tone was more sarcastic than surprised, but Tarquin either didn't notice or just decided not to comment.

"Well I broke the news about your boyfriend anyway," Tarquin continued. "Poor bloke."

Yes, poor Riddle indeed. Poor orphaned, innocent Riddle. Hermione thought sarcastically, wanting to roll her eyes. She highly doubted that Lord Voldemort was even interested in any of that sort of thing. The whole thing was ridiculous and embarrassing. If she ever made it back home she wondered if it would make a good story at the dinner party… Oh-ho-ho, then there was that time when I was thrown back in time and my friend thought that Lord Voldemort – yes, that's right You-Know-Who – was interested in dating me! Hermione almost snorted at the thought of seeing Harry and Ron's faces at that particular news…

"Say, do you realise that it's your birthday soon?" Tarquin suddenly changed topic and Hermione was brought out of what she thought were rather humorous musings.

"And?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"We haven't even planned a party!" he cried as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Hermione suddenly regretted revealing her birthday when they first met. What sort of male remembered birthdays anyway? In Hermione's book, the only man who never needed reminding was her Dad… as for the others, well, thank goodness for Ginny and Mrs Weasley… as she was sure that without those two women, Ron and Harry would both be completely clueless!

"Tarquin, I do not need a party," Hermione replied quickly. "I barely even know enough people here for a party… and it's still a couple of weeks away anyway."

"Excuses, excuses!" Tarquin replied theatrically. "You cannot not celebrate your birthday! I won't hear of it."

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. "Fine, if you must. A dinner with you and Valeria would be nice."

Tarquin scoffed. "You just leave the planning up to me."

Strangely enough, Hermione felt much better after talking to Tarquin. Even though he wasn't able to really understand what she was going through, he had a comforting presence which had calmed Hermione down immensely after her little 'episode' that afternoon.

Therefore, she felt a lot more positive as she sat down and eyed Dumbledore's notes. Whilst he had admitted the rudimentary nature of the notes, from putting them in some kind of order, Hermione believe that he was actually writing a book on the topic. However, she couldn't remember ever hearing of such a book… perhaps he never finished it? There had to be something in there that would give her an understanding of her current situation.

So, she settled back on her small sofa, sipped on a milky cup of tea and began reading…

First, to understand the magic behind the Veil, we must understand the history of the Veil. The Veil has existed in the Ministry since the beginning of the Ministry … One does not know whether the Veil was somehow magically transported to the Ministry or whether the Ministry was built around the magic of the Chambers of Love and Death … Some myths surrounding the Veil state that the Ministry was actually built specifically around the Veil to control capital punishment as well as keep it well hidden from the Muggle world…

Research outside of the Ministry is limited on the Veil. The limitations are extensive, due to the fact that research surrounding the Veil is controlled by Unspeakables. Information is not available under the usual Wizards Right to Information Act, making it almost impossible for those outside the Ministry to conduct research.

Hermione continued to read through Dumbledore's background and introduction, noting that he went into depth about his collaborative advisory position with the Ministry, as well as the lack of transparency to the public on information relating to the Veil. Hermione sighed, not really finding anything of use so far, yet continued reading anyway.

One of the key findings in my limited research is the fact that the Ministry is too arrogant to acknowledge muggle symbology pertaining to veils in general. The veil has a rich history in muggle culture ... Across many different religions the veil is used … Some muggles also believe that the veil in black represents the symbol of secret sin and the natural darkness of human nature … A black veil is worn at funerals, often by the woman, and is seen as a mark of respect to the deceased … Therefore, is there a link between this Muggle symbology and the fact that the Veil in the Ministry has a black sheen?

Hermione read through Dumbledore's research and noted how detailed he had been in discussing muggle culture, including the use of veils in weddings, funerals and various religions such as Islam and Catholicism.

But how did it link to his statement that the Veil linked back to those who created the language of Ancient Runes?

Ancient Runes remain as one of the only languages that link the magical and muggle world ... Muggles still acknowledge the mystic 'powers' and history of ancient runes, including those who specialised in the language ... This is a surprising finding, considering the fact that the Muggle world practically denies the existence of anything remotely magical that cannot be answered scientifically … The term 'Rune' originates from the Norsa term of 'Runa' which means 'secret or mystery' …

Hermione rubbed her temple. There was so much to take in, even in the introduction alone. She placed the notes down, picked up her quill and began taking her own notes. She had a feeling that tonight was going to be a long night…

"We'll only be five minutes…please?" Tarquin begged as he dragged Hermione into the Quidditch shop.

"Okay," Hermione sighed. "I suppose that's alright since I dragged you through Flourish and Blotts before."

"Thank you. Isn't it enough that we already workin a bookstore? And here I am, because I am such a nice person, going into more bookstores for my delightful friend!" Tarquin replied in an exasperated manner.

"Alright, you've made your point – loud and clear… We can spend as much time as you need in here and I promise that I won't complain." Hermione rolled her eyes in a joking manner.

They stepped into the store and Hermione's eyes immediately – out of habit more than anything – went straight to the bright orange poster representing the Chudley Cannons. Of course, every team had a poster displayed up in the store. Each poster was obviously set in order of the current Quidditch league ladder, considering that the Chudley Cannons were right at the very back of the poster line-up. Hermione sighed with sympathy… poor Ron!

By the time Hermione had turned back around, Tarquin was already off at the counter looking at the latest broom repair kits. Hermione chuckled and decided to simply wander around until he was finished.

The store was quite busy for a week day, and Hermione had to squeeze through several aisles full of people before she eventually felt comfortable. Unsurprisingly, the area for Chudley Cannons merchandise was the least crowded area in the store and Hermione gravitated towards it gratefully.

She eyed the merchandise affectionately, thinking of the many weekends where she would simply sit and enjoy a book whilst Ron would listen to the Wizarding Wireless Network keeping his fingers crossed and hoping for the best for the Cannons. The best, of course, was not to be completely annihilated by their opposing side. This normally led to Hermione baking Ron something sweet to cheer him up because even hoping for the best was not really good enough.

"I hope such a pretty lady isn't an actual fan of the Cannons!"

Hermione spun around quickly and came found that she was face-to-face with a young man with sharp cheekbones, shoulder length dark brown hair and sharp grey eyes.

"Excuse me?" she asked with a hint of amusement.

The young man chuckled. "You're an actual fan of the Cannons? You are brave... Or don't know that much about Quidditch."

"No, I'm not a fan of the Cannons… my boyfriend is." She smiled.

"Well, no disrespect to your boyfriend… but who follows the Cannons?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione, feeling defensive for Ron, sniffed. "Well, plenty of people still follow the Cannons – even without a fan club."

"What are you talking about? There's a fan club… Although I think it only has about five members," he snickered.

Hermione blushed and realised that perhaps in the forties, the Chudley Cannons did still have a fan club. She supposed that it wasn't really the worst thing she could say… he would probably just pass it off as a girlfriend who didn't care too much for her boyfriend's favourite sports team… something which was quite common in any language.

"Well, I guess I got mixed up," Hermione replied lamely.

"So what are you doing? Buying a present for your boyfriend?" he asked in a friendly tone.

"No, I'm actually waiting for a friend. This was the least busy area of the shop," Hermione explained.

"With good reason, too." Her new companion snorted. "Puddlemere is, by far, the best team."

Hermione shrugged indifferently. "I'm sure that's debateable. To be honest, I don't really support a team."

"Well… that's just criminal! You have to at least support a team!" he exclaimed. "Who are you waiting for anyway?"

Just then, Hermione saw Tarquin walking with his new broom kit safely tucked under his arm. She waved at him to get his attention and he smiled in recognition and began walking towards them.

"Ah, you're friends with Skeeter?" the young man standing beside her observed.

"Yes, that's who I was waiting for," she replied as Tarquin finally reached them.

A look of pleasant recognition crossed Tarquin's face as he looked at the young man standing next to Hermione. "Hello Antonin," he greeted happily. "Hermione, I see you've met another one of my old classmates, Antonin Dolohov."

Hermione froze and felt a shiver run down her spine as realisation and dread dawned on her. She slowly turned to the young man beside her and appraised him. She supposed that he looked much different to his older, twisted self… he actually looked and seemed like any other healthy, young man.

She wanted to throw up. What kind of cruel joke was being played on her? She recalled with sickening clarity the amount of time she had to spend healing from that curse that he had hurled at her in the Department of Mysteries all those years ago – which technically, now, was still years ahead. She then angrily remembered the still-noticeable scar on her chest because of it. Subconsciously her hand ran down the front of her shirt and she exhaled a long-held breath. She realised that she had suddenly become the centre of attention with Tarquin looking at her in confusion and Dolohov eyeing her expectantly.

"So you're Hermione Edwards?" Dolohov broke the awkward silence and Hermione felt herself automatically turn to him.

She took a deep breath. "Yes, that's me," she replied and took his outstretched hand, shaking it.

"It's nice to meet you," he said amiably. His polite tone was almost too much to bear.

But surely if she could converse with Tom Riddle she could talk to Antonin Dolohov without falling apart…

"Hermione, are you okay?" Tarquin asked her in concern. She noticed the curious look that Dolohov gave her.

She realised that she had to swallow her emotions. She had to get over reacting strangely towards every new person she met!

"Yes, I'm fine. Sorry Mr Dolohov, your surname just sounds very familiar. I was trying to place it," she tried to reply in the friendliest tone that was possible.

"Oh, well my family hails from Russia originally. My Grandfather was the first to ever cross breed dragons in captivity. Not to mention that my Father keeps one of the largest and most diverse private libraries in Britain," he replied proudly.

Hermione allowed a fake look of recognition to cross her face. "Oh! Actually I think I read something when I was doing some research on Dragons."

Dolohov nodded. "Yes, well, there you go," he replied.

Hermione gave him a polite smile and turned to Tarquin. "So you found what you were looking for?" She nodded towards the kit he had bought.

"Sure did. Was it as painful as you thought it would be?" he replied in amusement.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know, I do actually know about Quidditch. I practically grew up with Quidditch nuts."

"Even though she was standing beside the Cannons gear," Dolohov added.

Hermione threw him a glare, which went unnoticed because Tarquin and Dolohov had now started discussing the benefits of the repair kit Tarquin had purchased. Hermione half listened to their conversation; currently distracted by the fact that she had just had a civil conversation with a Death Eater… What was wrong with these people? What was wrong with her?

"We still need to organise that Quidditch match, Tarquin," Dolohov said, capturing Hermione's interest again.

"Well if you reckon you can get some players together – I can talk to some of my mates and we could do it this weekend," Tarquin replied eagerly.

"Alright Skeeter, I'll owl you and let you know. We can play at my place, there's a huge field near us," Dolohov offered.

"Great. Well I guess I'll see you later."

"Miss Edwards, perhaps you will come along? We will be looking for a fair referee," Dolohov asked.

"Er… I don't know," Hermione replied slowly.

"Oh what a great idea! You have to Hermione! You need to get out. It's not healthy spending all that time reading those musty, old books," Tarquin interjected, enthusiasm shining in his eyes.

Dolohov nodded and finally retreated. "Yes, agreed. Well I'll be in touch. It was nice to meet you, Miss Edwards. I hope we see you at the game." He nodded at Hermione and she thought she noted something in his eyes… though it happened so quickly she had no opportunity to decipher it.

Merlins pants! Hermione thought in annoyance. How on earth did she manage to get involved in this?

Tom was currently sorting through some newly acquired goods when Dolohov stepped through the door. What was he doing here? Tom thought in annoyance. He had specifically told his Knights to stay away from his work place. Dolohov better have a good reason for being here, otherwise Tom would have to remind him why it was a bad idea to disobey him.

"Dolohov, fancy seeing you here," Tom said in a rather cutting voice, hinting at his displeasure.

"My Lord, I know you had previously said-"

"Yes, so you better have a good reason for turning up here without me allowing it," Tom hissed quietly.

"I thought you would be interested to know that I met Miss Hermione Edwards this afternoon," Dolohov replied.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Her behaviour was rather odd, to say the least."

Tom almost rolled his eyes. He already knew she was odd… he didn't need confirmation from Dolohov!

"And?" Tom asked in a clipped tone.

"Well Skeeter was with her. We've organised a Quidditch match this weekend," he said in excitement.

"If you don't get to the point very soon…" Tom said warningly.

"Well Miss Edwards will probably be there too… I hinted that we would need a fair referee."

Tom was suddenly interested. "And?"

"Well of course Skeeter couldn't contain his excitement," Dolohov rolled his eyes at the memory. "And, therefore, I don't think Miss Edwards will be able to get out of it."

"And how does this involve me? I can't stand – nor do I choose to play - that stupid game."

"Well, my Lord, you could be over enjoying my hospitality… My parents, after all, just built a new swimming lagoon. It would only seem natural to have my friends over to enjoy it," he replied with a smug smirk on his face.

Tom's eyebrows rose in amusement. His followers did sometimes surprise him with their plots and schemes to get what Tom wanted.

"I know you want to know her secrets; I knew she wouldn't be able to say no with the Hufflepuff around. Plus it will be just you and her watching us play."

"Very good, Antonin, I am very pleased with you," Tom replied.

"I live to serve you… to reach our ultimate goal," Dolohov replied reverently, eyes shining at his Master's approval.

It was the day Hermione was dreading. Somehow she had been roped into acting as a referee for Tarquin's supposedly 'fun' Quidditch match.

"Are you sure you need an actual referee?" Hermione asked as she pulled her robe on. Tarquin had come to meet her at the shop before they were to apparate to Dolohov's house.

"Of course we do… I may get along with Dolohov, but he's still a sneaky Slytherin and no doubt, the team he has picked are all ex-Slytherin team members too."

"But it's just for fun… surely you can all just play for fun!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Are you crazy Hermione? Think about it… the last time we all played together we were all still at Hogwarts… this is somewhat sentimental for all of us, y'know. It's going to be a right competition."

"Well I hope I won't have to be breaking up fights," Hermione sighed.

"Don't worry Hermione," Tarquin said as he wrapped an arm around her, "I'm sure you can handle a few rowdy blokes!"

Before Hermione could say another word on the matter, she felt that familiar tug of apparition. Tarquin was already taking them to Dolohov's! Gripping on to him, she unconsciously gasped as she felt herself being pulled through a too-small tube. Hermione had almost forgotten what it felt like to be the second person in a side-long apparition.

But before she could think about it much more, they were again immersed in bright daylight as they softly landed in a grassy field. Catching herself, Hermione gave a half-hearted glare at Tarquin.

"You could have warned me," she accused whilst quirking an eyebrow.

"You were already looking for a way to get out coming – I wasn't taking any chances!" he replied cheekily as they both stood up and brushed themselves off.

"Where are we exactly?" Hermione asked curiously whilst looking at their surroundings. They were standing about 10 metres from a large iron gate. About one kilometre away from the gate Hermione could see a medium sized Manor. Well, by 'medium', she meant it was smaller than the Malfoy Manor… but in her opinion it was still disgustingly excessive.

"We're just a few miles outside of Ilminster actually," Tarquin replied and began walking towards the gate. "C'mon Hermione, he told me that he's taken the wards down for an hour so we can all get in alright."

Hermione again admired the rolling grassy hills surrounding the property as well as the cloudless sunny sky. It really was a beautiful day and she could tell by Tarquin's fidgety mannerisms that he couldn't wait to get up in the sky.

They both walked through the gate together and hadn't even been in the property for a minute before a little house Elf suddenly appeared in front of them with a loud 'pop'.

Hermione jumped back in surprise whilst Tarquin snickered beside her. "Have you never seen a house Elf before Hermione?" he asked jokingly.

Hermione clicked her tongue in annoyance. "It just surprised me, that's all."

Suddenly the house Elf began ringing its little hands. "Snowy is sorry to make Miss scared. Snowy does not mean to sneak up on Miss!"

Hermione's eyes widened at the Elf in sympathy. "Oh no! That's okay. That's fine, Snowy – was it? You did nothing wrong."

Snowy looked up at Hermione with big, round eyes. "Miss is too kind to Snowy!" It then squeaked and gestured its hands. "Follow Snowy to Quidditch match!"

Hermione smiled at the Elf and then rather swiftly nudged Tarquin who was trying – and miserably failing – to hold his sniggers in.

With a loud pop they were transported – yet again – with the help of Snowy to a massive looking field which already looked like it had a group gathered in what could be described as the centre of the field.

Hermione looked around in wonder. The pitch felt like a professional match field… all that was missing was the grandstands. It even had the proper Quidditch goal posts. Good Godric! Harry and Ron would be in heaven! Hermione thought fondly as she remembered the much less sophisticated matches that were always held in the backyard at the Burrow.

"Swell, huh?" Tarquin said from beside her.

"It's amazing. I've never seen anything like it at someone's house."

"Come on, let's go meet everyone."

They both began walking towards the group that was still standing in the middle of the pitch. Hermione suddenly felt extremely nervous approaching all of these strangers. She wondered whose ancestors or worse yet, which future Death Eaters she was about to meet. Some of the people turned and watched them approach and Hermione recognised Dolohov as one of them.

"Nice of you both the join us!" he shouted over the pitch.

Tarquin responded by holding up his broom in the air as recognition.

When they finally reached the group in the middle, Hermione grinned nervously as her stomach churned nervously and watched as Tarquin stepped forward eagerly.

"All, this is Hermione, Hermione this is everyone." He gestured towards the group. Hermione flushed under the stares. "Hermione is going to be our referee… It'll stop all you sneaky Slytherins from cheating." He added jokingly, looking towards Dolohov.

"Steady on, Skeeter. This is just a friendly match after all," Dolohov smirked. "Anyway, since Miss Edwards is going to referee she needs to meet my team."

"Hermione meeting your team will not give you any advantage," Tarquin replied in a cocky manner.

"Never the less, Hermione, I will introduce you." With that, Dolohov gestured towards a group of young men standing behind him. "This is Matthew Nott, Eli Rosier and Leo Mulciber. There are a couple more to come as well."

Hermione tried to hide her shock; here she was, standing in front of Voldemort's original Death Eaters. In many ways she had expected it, but at the same time it still made her heart skip a beat. All that was missing was Voldemort himself. Well, with the most annoying wizard in history missing, Hermione had to at least be thankful for the small mercies in life.

She didn't know what to expect from the wizards in front of her… Looking at Matthew Nott was like seeing a double of Theodore Nott, ex-classmate, turned irritating Unspeakable colleague at the Ministry and the other boys looked, well, the same as Dolohov: young and happy. A small part of her – very small, mind you – had the urge to suddenly show them how their lives would turn out in the future… She then also wondered what they would think if they found out she was muggleborn… Surely the polite pureblood act would drop then?

Hermione gave them all a rather awkward smile and a small wave; she almost jumped when she felt Tarquin tug on her robes.

"Okay, since you've now met them, let's meet the team that will actually win."

She heard some rather offended scoffs coming from Dolohov's team, but Tarquin had already pulled her away and she now found herself standing in front of group of young men. She was pretty sure that if Lavender or Parvati knew about this, there would be much complaining about this being wasted on "boring Hermione Granger".

"Hermione, I want you to meet Charlie Diggory, Harold Craig, Joshua Arataur, Markus Bones, and Samuel Smith."

Smith? Hermione really hoped that the tall, blonde man standing in front of her was of no relation to the berk who sent her back here. She'd have a good mind to cast some sort of long-term contraceptive charm on him if he was, in fact, the Grandfather of that fool who just happened to have recently ruined her life!

Hermione suddenly toyed with the idea that if she did somehow stop his, er, reproductive organs from working she might be instantly transported back to her own time. It was almost too tempting to resist… but alas, who knew what would happen if she committed such a crime. A crime against time travel, not against that stupid Smith family, of course.

Instead of scowling though, Hermione gave them all a polite smile and turned back to Tarquin. "You don't really have enough players for a fair game," she said and motioned towards each group.

"Yeah we'll probably be one down on each side… Oi, Antonin, when are your other players showing up? I want to play already!"

Dolohov shrugged his shoulders. "Not sure… How about we decide on colours and such now?"

Tarquin grinned. "Well it is quite obvious mate, green for you snakes and yellow for us-"

"Badgers," Rosier snickered.

"Come now, Eli, you make it sound like it's a bad thing," Charlie Diggory stated with a hearty laugh, though Hermione did notice his eyes squint in a slight mocking manner.

"That's because-" Rosier began, but was hastily elbowed in the ribs and given a 'look' by Dolohov. Hermione frowned at the threatening look given to Rosier by Dolohov, and the equally quick retreat that the young man made.

Suddenly they were all interrupted by a faint yell across the field. All turned and squinted and Hermione noted two figures flying towards them at a rather fast and wild pace. One of the flyers whooped loudly and overtook the other, who in response leant his body down further to gain more momentum on his broom, but he wasn't quick enough for the other who simply flitted about – seemingly less worried about the race than the others.

As they got closer, Hermione was able to finally distinguish minor characteristics between the two of them. The one who flitted about in such a wild manner had what looked like shoulder-length raven black hair, which flew about the place like his riding style, whilst the other more competitive looking one had hair which was more an auburn colour – it looked longer, but tied back in a rather sleek manner.

"About bloody time," Dolohov said as they finally pulled up in front of the group.

"Keep calm, mate!" the black haired man replied. "Your owl was rather short notice, and surprising, to say the least."

"Think of it as a little Hogwarts reunion then," Dolohov replied uncomfortably.

Both wizards alighted from their brooms and walked over to the group. Hermione took an unconscious step towards Tarquin, again, feeling nervous about being the only one who didn't really know anyone.

"Good to see you both again," Tarquin said, "It feels like it's been yonks!"

The two wizards turned towards Tarquin and offered polite smiles. Their gazes curiously settled on Hermione. Tarquin grinned and in the process pushed Hermione forward slightly – much to her immediate discomfort.

"Hermione'll be acting as our referee today – you know, making sure none of you Slytherin's play up."

"Us? Play up?" The one with the auburn hair said, whilst cocking a mocking brow at Tarquin.

"Hufflepuffs don't cheat," Markus Bones replied.

Hermione agreed with the boy. They didn't cheat. She remembered back at her time in Hogwarts when Gryffindor played Hufflepuff and because of Dementors, Harry lost his chance at going for the snitch. Cedric had offered to replay the match, feeling it wasn't fair. Even Quidditch-mad Oliver Wood had declined the kind offer!

"I've seen Smith pull a few interesting – to say the least – moves out there before," The raven haired boy replied and nodded to Smith, who seemed to get all puffy about being named.

"That's neither here nor there," Samuel Smith replied haughtily.

Hermione had to swallow a grimace – he reminded her of uncannily Zacharias, it was scary!

"Regardless, we're forgetting out manners, aren't we Alex?" The raven haired boy then said, completely dismissive of Smith.

"Most certainly." He turned to Hermione and offered a charming smile. "My name is Alexander Lestrange and this is Alphard Black. Pleased to make your acquaintance… Hermione was it?"

Hermione's eyes bulged slightly… Lestrange and Black? Well, she wasn't expecting that! She quickly attempted to swallow her surprise as they were now looking at her with anticipation. "Er, yes. Hermione. Hermione Edwards," she replied, hating how awkward she sounded all of a sudden.

A grin broke out on Alphard's mouth and he stepped forward and shook Hermione's hand, which was followed by Alexander. Hermione couldn't help but stare at Alphard Black. He was the one who, after all, helped Sirius out when he ran away from his family. He was the only Black who Sirius said he actually liked. But is he a member of Riddle's gang too? He was, after all, playing Quidditch with them… but then again, Dolohov's greeting towards the two of them was still quite formal – not the sort of greeting you would give a friend… but Slytherins were rather odd, weren't they?

"Lovely to meet you," Alexander said, pulling Hermione out of her internal debate on the behaviour of Slytherins. Before she had a chance to make a polite response, Alphard quickly cut in.

"I assume you know Quidditch then? If you're willing to ensure it's a fair game," Alphard asked.

"Hermione grew up with Quidditch, didn't she?" Tarquin answered for her.

"Yeah, I've seen too many games to count," she added and gave a small smile.

"You don't play?" Alphard asked, looking sceptical.

"Er, I had a bad experience with brooms in my- when I was a child," she quickly corrected. "I like watching it though." She grinned.

"Rightio, enough yakking; let's play. Hermione, you should be able to get a good view of us over near that tree. Now, I know both teams are about one person down each, but I reckon we'll manage," Tarquin began ordering, and pointed to a random tree off the side of the field.

Hermione smiled at Tarquin's sudden burst of bossiness and quickly began walking over to tree. She was incredibly grateful for the idea of shade, it was quite a sunny day and Hermione could already feel her nose and cheeks begin to burn from even such a short time in the sun.

Settling herself down on a large picnic blanket she had brought along, she looked towards the field and noted that everyone had changed their robes to either green or a golden yellow. Running a hand through her hair, she prepared her official 'scoring' card and got ready to enjoy watching a game of Quidditch.

An hour later Hermione sat there, head in hands, bored out of her mind. They still hadn't caught the snitch. The score was currently 90-80, with the Slytherins in the lead.

Hermione eyed her beaded bag, desperately wanting to pull one of her books out and start reading, but she couldn't do that, as she eyed Tarquin up in the air, looking as though he was having the time of his life. Well, at least they were having fun, she thought in annoyance. Getting her head out of musty books indeed! She would be much happier reading one of her books, despite the fact that she was enjoying the sunny weather.

Well maybe they wouldn't notice if she had a book and then just checked the game every couple of seconds… surely that would be okay, wouldn't it? She guiltily eyed the bag, before snatching it up and opening it quickly. What to read, what to read? She wondered as she now held the bag. A brief grin crossed her face when she realised that she had packed a book relating to Wizarding Myths, Legends and Fairy Tales. She was hoping that maybe she could find something in there that might be able to give her more clues about her own predicament.

She sighed in relief as she opened the book and began reading. Checking the sky every couple of minutes, Hermione felt smug at her successful multi-tasking… she was even able to tell when the Hufflepuffs scored and were now tied with Slytherin with the big 'whoop' Tarquin made.

But of course, her multi-tasking didn't last long and before she knew it, Hermione was so deeply engrossed in her book that she didn't even notice the sudden shadow that loomed over her.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching the game?"

Hermione yelped, jumping out of her spot, immediately feeling guilty. Looking up, she locked eyes with none other than Tom Riddle, who was staring at her expectantly.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out, and then cringed slightly, realising how that would sound to someone like him.

He shrugged his shoulders and gracefully plopped down next to her. "Antonin's parents just installed a new heated lagoon – we were all swimming before the game. His father also wanted me to value some of their magical antiques."

"Oh," was all Hermione could answer with. She eyed him and realised that he was dressed quite casually compared to the usual suit and robes that she saw him wearing. He was wearing a casual white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and loose fitting, cotton, tan-coloured pants. She noted how his hair, despite it being in its usual neat style, was slightly damp. Hermione wondered, in frustration, if it just automatically styled itself nicely – or perhaps the vain git had some sort of permanent beautification charm on it.

"Oh?" He smirked back at her. "As I was saying, shouldn't you be watching the game… you know, ensure they don't end up attacking one-another?"

Hermione huffed, and closed her book, noting how his eyes travelled quickly over the cover of the book before landing back on her. "I've been watching this game for an hour and a half. Nothing has happened, and I can tell when someone's scored due to the cheers, anyway."

"Still, it's not very responsible, Hermione. Why, those boys are relying on you," he chided, though she could tell he was being sarcastic by the glint in his eyes.

Hermione looked away from him and rolled her eyes. "Why aren't you up there playing anyway?" she changed the topic.

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Quidditch has never bothered me one way or the other. I never joined the school team because I was already busy with my school and prefect duties."

Not to mention being evil. Hermione thought darkly. Though she had to admit that she was still surprised he admitted to not being a huge fan of the game. Suddenly a mental picture of Voldemort supporting the International Quidditch League entered her mind and she had to bite down on the side of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.

"Do you play?" he then asked, obviously not noticing her amusement.

"No. But I grew up with a couple of Quidditch aficionados, so it was always around me one way or the other."

The conversation died off as Hermione stared back up at the sky and Tom didn't really say anything more. She felt incredibly awkward with him sitting so close to her. It felt like everything was suddenly set off-kilter.

"Listen," he began to say, "About the other day-"

Hermione knew what he was talking about. She had run away almost in tears after the subject of her parents had come up. With him. She really did not want to talk about that at all.

"It's fine," she quickly interrupted him. "Forget it even happened." And Merlin, she hoped that he would forget! But this was Tom Riddle she was talking about, so instead she just hoped he wouldn't bring it up again.

"What are you reading?" he asked instead of pushing the other issue. "Don't tell me that you're reading a book of fairy tales instead of keeping up with your Quidditch duties… I'm sure your friend Tarquin would be most devastated if he saw that."

Hermione frowned at Tom, who truly seemed to be enjoying poking fun at her. "If you're so concerned about their game then by all means, please become the referee." She replied in an annoyed tone.

"Tsk, tsk, Hermione. Shirking your duties like that."

She turned and scowled at him. "I am not shirking my duties." She replied hotly, and with that, she pointedly sat the book down next to her. "No wonder they made you Head Boy." She muttered.

"You remember finer details quite easily don't you?" he replied.

Hermione froze and then let a large breath out in frustration. So what if she remembered such a detail about him? He was just making mountains out of molehills in her opinion. "Well, I've been told that I have quite the memory," she replied haughtily. "Now if you excuse me, then yes, I really should be watching this game." And not talking to you!

Tom didn't say anything more but from the corner of her eye Hermione noted that he was smirking at her. Stupid… well, maybe not stupid, but sneaky git!

The time and silence stretched out between them and Hermione managed to record another goal made by Slytherin. It felt strange to be sitting here with Lord Voldemort who sitting so quietly next to her. Sometimes she could feel him observing her and at other times his attention seemed elsewhere. She was trying very hard not to pay attention to him; to the point where it almost seemed rude. But Hermione did not care too much about that. The less time she spent talking to him the better, in her opinion.

After almost 15 minutes of ignoring him she finally turned her attention towards him and almost shrieked when she realised that he was reading her book! How on earth had he managed to pull that without her noticing? Bloody hell! She had been so intent on ignoring him that he had been able to get a hold of it without her even noticing.

"Excuse me, but what in Merlins name do you think you are doing?" she almost shrieked.

He looked up innocently from the book. "Oh, just reading… I didn't think that you'd mind, considering how focused you were on the match," his smile was mocking and it made her want to punch him in the face.

"Give it back!" she ordered. "You can't just take someone's book without asking!" her voice was becoming shriller by the minute.

"I was just curious; I didn't realise that you weren't into sharing. But are you honestly into these… fairy tales?"

"Not that it matters, but almost all wizarding fairy tales have some basis of truth to them," she replied reproachfully. "Now give me my book back."

"Well, actually, I was quite enjoying this story… I want to see if the great Wizard is really able to save the Damsel in distress from the clutches of the evil Dragon. So if you don't mind…" And with that he continued to read, but Hermione could tell from the smirk on his lips that he was enjoying this far too much for her liking.

"Tom Riddle! Give me my book back now!" she shrieked and went to snatch it back from him, but he was far too quick and suddenly held it up above their heads – just out of Hermione's reach.

"Only if you ask nicely," he replied, waving the book in the air.

"I don't see why I have to ask nicely when you took it from me without asking in the first place," she huffed and attempted to make a grab for it. "Now if you don't give me my book back…"

"You'll do what exactly?" he scoffed.

"You don't want to know what I'm capable of," she muttered darkly, still trying to grab it and failing miserably.

Tom outright guffawed at her. "I'm sure I should be absolutely terrified," he mocked.

"You should be terrified!" Hermione replied, momentarily forgetting the seriousness in actually threatening Lord Voldemort. Oh well, he wasn't taking her seriously anyway. He obviously saw this as one, big, funny, joke. Well Hermione did not think that it was funny at all!

"Okay, okay, I'll give it back if you answer me one question," he bargained.

"What's the question?" she asked quickly.

"Hmm, smart that you don't automatically agree to that term. Very smart indeed…"

"Riddle," she growled. "What is it you want to know?"

"Is the book for your project?" he asked.

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "That's what you want to know?"

"Well, is it?" he pressed, face suddenly completely blank.

Hermione sighed. Well, what could it hurt? It's not like he seemed to take fairy tales seriously at all… Even Dumbledore had said that. "Yes it is. Now can I have it back?"

He suddenly smirked and handed her back the book. "Certainly, here you go."

She gave him a strange look and decided to actually put it back in her beaded bag instead – keeping the strap of the bag wrapped around her wrist for good measure. Now there's a clever idea, Hermione! Even her mind was mocking her now, she thought moodily.

"What else can you store in that bag?" Tom suddenly asked her, before she could think much more about his questioning over the fairy tale book.

"Lots of things," she replied.

"What sort of things?" Tom pressed.

"Hmm… books, clothes, money…"

"I've seen you put a few things in there… it seems to hold a lot," he observed.

"You remember details quite easily don't you?" she smirked as she mimicked his earlier comment that had been directed towards her. "But yes, I'd say that's the idea with a girl's hand bag – fancy that!" And she grinned.

Tom's eyes glinted at her slight teasing. "What sort of magic did you use on it, you know, to get it like that?"

"Undetectable extension charm," she replied in an off-handed manner.

"That's quite clever," he replied. "With that and your ledger system at the shop… well one must wonder why you are, indeed, working in a shop."

Hermione couldn't help but feel some pride at his small compliment. He may turn into one of the darkest wizards of all time, but Hermione knew that Voldemort was pretty much a Master of many different magical theories. Therefore, she couldn't deny that it was strangely nice for someone so intelligent to recognise her skills.

"Well Mr Riddle," she replied very primly, "considering you were Head Boy and you work in a shop, one could ask the same of you." She cocked an eyebrow at him and could tell that her question annoyed him greatly.

"I'm saving to travel. I intend to travel for some time, so it would be futile to become entrenched in somewhere like the Ministry," he replied in an even tone.

"Well then, I suppose we are even then. Considering my project and the fact I intend to spend a very short time here, why would I bother getting a job at the Ministry?"

Tom didn't say anything to that and the conversation died off. They were quiet and Hermione turned her attention back to the game. Great Godric! One can only hope that it will be over soon! She thought in annoyance. After several minutes of silence she turned to Riddle who appeared to be immersed in his own book. She curiously leaned over and had a look at it, causing him to look up.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

"Oh so you are now allowed to ask what I'm reading, but I'm not allowed to know what you are reading about?" He smirked.

"Well, that's completely different!" she replied, rather swottily, "You took my book and then teased me. I'm being polite, at least."

"Well in that case – since you have defended yourself so well," he replied and held the book up.

Hermione's eyes widened. "That's… why that's Bridget Wenlock's complete unabridged works on Arithmancy!" She eyed the book in awe. "How did you get your hands on that?"

"Dolohov's father has quite the book collection. For free appraisal of his antiques, he leant me this book as payment."

"That's amazing," Hermione breathed, forgetting all rhyme and reason. "That book, well, it hasn't been seen for years and years – perhaps even centuries."

"Sitting protected by wards in one family's library will do that," Tom replied smugly.

"Do you mind if I-"

"You want to look at it?" he asked, and a calculating smirk suddenly appeared on his face.

"Well, only if it's… I mean-"

Tom tapped his long index finger on his chin and seemed to be thinking. "Hmm, I'm not sure. Mr Dolohov leant it to me and only me. If something were to happen to it in my care. Well I would hate to think of the consequences…"

"Oh! I would never hurt a book!" Hermione cried, eyeing the book longingly. In fact she didn't take her eyes off it once.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Tom replied, and smirked. "Tell you what, how about we make some kind of deal?"

Hermione's eyes snapped from the book to his and she blinked, as if she suddenly realised who she was asking for a favour. Was doing a deal with Lord Voldemort such a bad thing? Well, that's a stupid question! She thought snarkily. Of course it was a bad idea! But another part of her also thought that it would depend on what he was asking. It couldn't hurt to ask, could it?

"What sort of deal?" she asked cautiously.

"Well… How about-"

But before Tom could even make an offer a sudden explosion came from the Quidditch pitch and Hermione, distracted by the noise, quickly turned her attention away.

She screamed as she saw someone in a golden yellow cape falling rapidly from his broom. Without even thinking, Hermione quickly got up and ran towards the pitch, watching in horror as the boy fell faster and faster. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? She thought, frantically as she pulled her wand.

"Aresto Momentum!" she cried and watched as the charm hit its intended target and the boy immediately slowed to a safe pace.

Hermione continued running towards the centre of the pitch, not allowing her concentration to waver as the boy dropped peacefully to the ground of the pitch. As she ran up to him, she realised with surprise it was Samuel Smith.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she knelt down beside him.

"I'm fine!" he bit back, "I was just about to put my own wand out, you know."

Hermione looked at him in confusion. Why was he so angry towards her? "What is your problem?" She asked in annoyance as she noticed all the other players flying down, some already landing around Hermione and Smith.

"I do not need some girl to help me!" he bit out and quickly pushed himself up, brushing grass off his robe.

Hermione swallowed her anger. "Well it looked like you did need some help, the way you were falling," she bit back, angry at his rudeness.

Before he could answer Alexander Lestrange landed and ran up to Smith. "You bloody cheat!" he yelled at him, drawing his wand. "How dare you try to confund me, you bloody arsehole!"

"Is this true Samuel?" asked Tarquin as he looked between the two of them.

"Of course it's true! He's always tried to use it! Even back in school… you were all just too trusting to see it!" Alexander bit out.

"And you say we cheat… bloody hell," Alphard replied, with some humour in his voice, despite the current predicament.

"I did not confund you!" Samuel shot back haughtily.

"No you didn't, because I knew what you were up to, you sneaky little prick!" Alexander yelled and before Hermione even knew what was going on, Alexander had flicked his wand non-verbally and a red hex came hurtling towards Samuel. The only problem was that instead of blocking it, Samuel jumped out of the way which meant it was heading straight towards Hermione.

Hermione blinked and went to raise her wand, but before she could do that, she felt someone grab her arm and pull her out of the way – just in the nick of time, too. She looked up and found Tom Riddle, hand tightly grasped around her arm, staring straight back at her. Her eyes widened in surprise…

Did Voldemort just help her out?
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