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Masters of Manipulation	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 28506 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter Seven

The schoolbag fell from her, still undamaged and whole, arm. No burns were visible. But how could there be? After all, it had not happened yet. Time was a funny thing, shifting and changing, going back and forth, attempting to correct the errors it perceived. And now, it had placed Hermione into the Slytherin girl's dormitory, all the way back in 1944. Without any knowledge of what happened to Harry, Ron and herself in 1997, because she had not gone there, yet. It would still take several months before she would travel through time and fly out of Gringotts on the back of a dragon with Harry, Ron and Tom Riddle. Right now, her biggest concerns were two massive Founders' books, and they were causing her enough problems as it was.

Anxiously, Hermione looked at the state of her belongings as she went on to check everything out. Not that her stuff was in extreme disarray or anything like it. But that was exactly what was troubling her. It was all tucked very neatly in its original place. The hair inside her calendar, the stray red sock between the sleeves of her equally red sweater, the immensely minuscule straw of thread she had put between her underwear, and so on. She growled and her face went dark when she noticed that even the folding of the pages in her fake journal was as it should be. And her journal was charmed to unfold the pages upon opening without leaving a single trace behind on how to refold them again.

Furthermore, the jinxes on her bookcase appeared uninterrupted. The hex surrounding her nightstand still seemed in working order. The sticking charms on her cabinet hadn't gone off. Even the personal restraining charm was intact. None of the damn curses had fired. You could name it, and it was there. Hermione rubbed her hands through her hair in frustration.

'And how, in Godric's name, did he fool the Founders' staircase to get into the girl's dorm?' she thought, while a very large number of inappropriate names to call Tom Marvolo Riddle came to mind.

She stood up straight, planted her hands upon her hips and sighed deeply as she angrily stared at all of her still 'ready for action' defences. She felt like thrashing them for their failure to, at least, do some harm to the obnoxious Heir. She had so much fun anticipating the look on his face after getting hit by one of the curses that would have left him with a 'shall we say' slightly permanent, more embarrassing appearance, instead of the boyish good looks he was born with. Unfortunately, no such joy was granted in reality.

If it hadn't been for the globe, she wouldn't have even known he had been there. The globe was something special. It was, like so many other globes, a map of the world and a lamp. But the lamp had very unusual attributes. It would alert her if spies, thieves, sneaks, or kindred spirits had been there. The lamp was also capable of making a record of events happening in her room. It was kind of a magical camera. Something she had designed herself. The camera was to keep an eye on her belongings when she wasn't around.

It was the only thing that had gone unnoticed as she had counted on upon creating it. Not only was it partly Muggle technology, so the stick-up, pure-blood Slytherins would not deem it a second glance. But, in a size this small, it was also not-yet-invented Muggle technology, so even the full-of-himself, half-blood prick would not know to check for an item of this kind. Hermione had designed the camera to switch on automatically if it detected movement around a pre-designated area. She had used a globe as a means to disguise the cam, since it was a sphere and would provide the camera with three-hundred-and-sixty degree eyesight.

So she was sure she had a pretty good record of Riddle snooping through her stuff, searching for the two Founders' books. She had no doubt it was him, even without checking the tape on the camera. She knew he was the only one anal enough to achieve these kinds of results with the amount of safeguards she had planted in the room.

And indeed her suspicions were confirmed when she used the charm to watch the events of that day in her dorm. The globe's map disappeared after she waved her wand and uttered the spell. The sphere became translucent, resembling the crystal balls used in Divination classes, and like a movie, it showed her exactly how Riddle was able to ditch and block every single one of her preset safeties. Her eyes went wide and she grunted defeated when she saw how he had, remarkably, made an exact copy of her journal without opening it, evading the folded paper trap she had set in between the pages.

'Too bad for him it was filled with complete and utter nonsense. It will be of no use to him whatsoever,' she amusingly thought.

But the smile quickly disappeared of her face as she watched the rest of Riddle's activities. He found every single one of her previous hiding places, which disturbed her dearly. And he noticed something in her trunk that clearly seemed enlightening to him from the pleased expression on his face. Unfortunately, she could not tell what it was, since her view was obstructed by the lid of the trunk.

She grinned, however, when he clearly got annoyed at being stuck to her cabinet for quite some time, before he was able to set himself free from it. And it took him an hour to undo the damage he sustained from violently disrupting the personal restraining charm. She took some pride in the fact that, at least, it had not been the walk-through she had deemed it to be when she first examined her room.

Alas for Tom and lucky for her, the books weren't in her dorm. They were both hiding beneath the false bottom of her schoolbag. The same bag, that was with her in class and in the library when he had broken into her room. She could tell he was beyond angry when his search turned up empty and he rearranged her things back in order. After he was finished, she expected him to leave immediately, since he already had spent a considerable amount of time in the dorm, and every minute spent, he was at risk for being apprehended there. But he just stood there, frozen, his face frowning, contemplating something, most likely his next act. The only movement he made was the impatient tapping his leg received from his wand.

Suddenly, a smile broke through and Hermione shivered at the sight of it. It was a harsh, cold, and calculating smile. And knowing perfectly well what the individual who wore that smile was capable of, it most definitely wasn't comforting to her. On the contrary, it was downright frightening. Anything he felt good about could never entail fun for her. She watched as he raised his wand, made some unidentifiable circular movement with it and uttered a curse, non-verbally.

'Oh, Merlin, damn…,' she thought, and closed her eyes for a second.

Suddenly very aware of her surroundings, she pulled out her wand and raised a shield around her, just to be on the safe side. She carefully eyed the space around her, and when she did not see any telltale signs of magic, she picked up her bag and slowly began backing out of the room, not touching anything, hoping that way she would not trigger whatever enchantment Riddle had set up in there. She almost made it.

Upon grabbing a hold of the doorknob behind her, she instantly knew she made a fatal mistake. The door would not open, and from a distance, a deep, low rumbling noise could be heard. She turned around and unconvincingly tried the Alohomora Charm, but as she had expected, to no effect. The door would not budge an inch. The noise became louder and louder, like an earthquake approaching its peak, until it filled the dorm room with a deafening strength. To her horror, the floor began to crumble beneath her. There was nowhere to turn to and she was beginning to panic. Fortunately, a flash of inspiration hit her. She pointed her wand at the nearest bed and yelled: 'Wingardium Leviosa'.

And with an amazingly athletic dive for someone who did not participate in any sporting activity, she managed to get herself and her schoolbag on top of the bed, before the floor vanished completely, leaving a dark and profound hole in its wake. Everything in the room, that wasn't nailed to the wall, had crashed downwards. Hermione looked down, straight into the seemingly bottomless abyss. Out of sheer curiosity, she let the ink-bottle she obtained out of her bag fall down into it. It took five, very long minutes before the crash of the bottle reached her ears.

'That foul, evil, rotten, good for nothing…' she grumbled.

A familiar rumbling noise interrupted her Tom Riddle bashing and she saw how the bricks of the floor began to realign themselves. After the floor was back in pristine condition, the furniture and all the other inanimate items emerged out of thin air and fell back into their original position like nothing had happened.

However, it did not escape her attention that Walburga's owl and Lucretia's cat were not among them. It was obvious that living things were not returning from the pit. She wondered about the well-being of the pets for a second, but the door opened and Walburga Black let out a furious scream at the sight of Hermione sitting on her levitated bed. 'Get off there! You filthy Mudblood! How dare you befoul my bed!'

Hermione merely rolled her eyes at the familiar insult. She wondered how someone so nasty could have possibly got a son like Sirius. She hopped of the hovering bed before exiting the dorm room with her bag secured on her shoulder. She ignored Walburga's nasty glares and winked mischievously at Lucretia, who was giving her a puzzled stare. Lucretia stifled a laugh at Hermione's devious expression and made a fake sneeze into her handkerchief to hide and suppress her true feelings.

Back in the Slytherin common room, Hermione paused. She did not know where to go from here. Riddle knew the books weren't in her dorm, so he most likely had deduced she had them either with her at all times, or had hidden them somewhere else in the castle. He had already tried to trap her in that pit of his, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would not hesitate to force her to deliver the books to him. Either way, she could no longer afford to carry the books around with her. From what she had seen in the globe, Riddle would discover the false bottom in her bag in no time. She had to hide them somewhere safe. Somewhere he could not reach them: the Room of Requirement.

And so she left the Dungeons to go up to the Room on the seventh floor and hide the precious books. On her way towards it, she had carefully thought about the words she had to use to prevent exposure of the books, and she had decided upon the following sentence: 'I need a place to hide my books from Tom Marvolo Riddle.' And upon arriving in front of said Room, she walked past the place three times, thinking that sentence, until the door emerged. Relieved at the sheer sight of it, she turned and opened the door.

'Stupefy!'

The door was almost rendered shut by the impact of the spell that was meant for her, but hit the door instead. With a swift motion, the door flew back towards its frame, taking Hermione with it for a ride and smashing her into the doorframe, before nearly crushing her to death. She dropped her bag onto the floor of the Room of Requirement from the pain that emanated from her spine when it collided not so softly with the solid structure behind her, but she crashed into the corridor herself. The door started to move in the opposite direction again, opening it up wider and wider. Pushing herself up from the floor, she saw Riddle walking towards her with firm strides, his wand pointed towards her. Her eyes flew to the door that was, slowly, continuing to open further and further. An alarmed expression made its way to Tom Riddle's face as she reached out her arm to push the door into the other direction. Another red dash headed straight towards her, but she heard the distinctive 'thud' of a closing door, a mere fraction of a second before the stunner hit her and everything went black.

Hermione woke up on a cold, hard floor, face down. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but it must have been a significant amount of time, since her muscles felt extremely sore and numb from the cold. Her back was killing her from the impact it sustained with the doorframe, and her right arm felt like someone had tried to pull it out of its socket. She had to squeeze her eyes shut a couple of times before they were adjusted to the light in the room, that was just a bit too bright for her taste. Not that there was much to look at. All she saw was a blind wall and nothing further.

She groaned and pushed herself up, cursing at her right arm that refused to cooperate. Squatting on her knees, she managed to find herself in a somewhat seated position. So she turned to face the other side of the room. Only to find out that side, unfortunately, wasn't as empty as the one she faced a moment ago. In a rather comfortable looking armchair sat Tom Riddle calmly. One of his legs was slouched over the arm-rest of the chair, while he was twirling his wand in his left hand. His eyes were locked on the bare wall to his right, as if that was far more interesting than the girl kneeling on the floor before him.

Hermione quickly decided, that in front of present company, this most definitely wasn't a posture she cared to be in, and she stumbled onto her feet, while scanning the room left and right. Besides Riddle in his chair, there wasn't a single thing to be seen. She had no notion as to what was emanating that blasted, blinding light, since there were no lamps hanging anywhere and no windows to be found in the otherwise blank walls.

Hermione also noticed that Riddle was strategically positioned between her and the only exit of the room. Not that she thought she could have made it to a door anyway, since he had a wand and she was sure he wasn't stupid enough not to have taken hers to begin with. 'No harm in checking that though,' she thought and her hand went to the pocket in her skirt.

She heard the snort coming a mile away and she replied with an angry frown in his direction, which only enhanced his amusement further. His face now showed a degrading, mocking expression in combination with the typical Slytherin smirk and that was basically enough to send her over the edge.

'Why don't you just stop with your stupid, annoying games and get to the point. What the hell do you want?' she spat at him.

His wand stopped twirling in midair and he merely raised his eyebrows at Hermione's outburst. For a brief moment, the room was eerily silent.

'If you have to ask, Evans, then I would think you would be the one to qualify for the title stupid,' he replied, ever so quietly.

It was like time stood still. Frozen. They simply stared at each other, weighing the balance of the situation. Hermione did not appreciate the outcome of the scales so far, and she broke the silence again by enquiring where she was.

Tom responded calmly. 'The Room of Requirement. I must say, it is very accommodating of you, to so conveniently make yourself available in front of another suitable place, after you cleverly spoilt my other plan by … levitating a bed, I believe.'

His face lit up in delight and he gave her a broad smile, as if to show his appreciation of her cunning. The smile never reached his eyes though.

'This room, however, does have its advantages, Hermione. It's a lot easier for me to get in and out of unnoticed. It's also much more comfortable.' And he patted on the chair with his hand.

'It's quite soundproof as well. No disturbances, as I prefer it.'

He paused for a little while to emphasise on the underlying threat, before continuing his speech in the same soft voice and in the same calm demeanour.

'And last, but certainly not least, your little show-and-tell with the door a few hours ago, proved the books are in your schoolbag, and therefore they are inside some manifestation of this very room. So … here we are, Miss Evans. Roomies.'

And he started twirling his wand again, while eyeing her intently.

'Care to save us both the trouble and enlighten me on the, no doubt, brilliantly constructed phrase you used to open this room and hide those books from me?'

The silence that fell after those pleasantly spoken words was so thick you could put a knife in it. He slowly rose out of his chair and began to advance towards her.

'Or…'

His tone of voice changed dramatically in that last word, and he menacingly continued his speech. It was now devoid of any kind of comforting emotion.

'Do I have to do something unpleasant?'

Hermione held her breath as he pushed his wand into her sternum to back up his threat, and unwillingly she took a step backwards. Her eyes flittered from left to right, trying desperately to find a way out, a solution to her dilemma that would not involve handing Riddle those two volumes. She knew that in order to retrieve those books from the Room, they would both have to vacate this one, which meant stepping out into the corridor where there might be others passing by, which might give her a window of opportunity. But she quickly realised she was kidding herself. He did not have to keep her conscious in order for her to exit, or he could use the Imperius Curse. He had way too many options to make sure she would not interfere. Her mind was working overtime, but the answers she came up with were empty. She decided on replying with a question of her own.

'How do I know that you won't do anything to me after you obtain those books?'

'There are no certainties in life, Hermione Evans. The only one you have here is that you will suffer sincerely if I do not acquire an answer to my question within the next minute or so. And I guess it's only fair to remind you, that it is Saturday night, and therefore, I have an entire day at my disposal to secure the information from you before classes resume. I think it will be prudent for you to assume that I will make effective use of every minute; speaking of which, I believe you just ran out of time… Perhaps a little demonstration is in order...'

His eyes flashed red for a second and Hermione paled at the sight of it. She just stood there, speechless, unable to move, like she was nailed to the floor, but not for long. She saw the distinctive wand-movement again and knew what was going to happen before the words were spoken.

'Crucio.'

Pain, beyond belief, beyond imagination, flared through her body. Nothing had prepared her for this. Not even Harry's descriptions of the sensation did it justice. She fell to the floor, writhing and screaming. Her nerves felt like an icy fire ran through them. Her heart pounded so severely she thought it would jump out of her chest. Her lungs felt as if they were collapsing. It felt like all her internal organs were trying to tear themselves apart. Her head seemed like knifes were punched into it from all sides, and she could think nothing else besides: 'Make it stop. Somebody please end this. Someone kill me.'

After what seemed like forever, but in reality only lasted a couple of seconds, the pain ended. He lifted the curse. She was panting heavily now, making no attempt to stand up, and Lord Voldemort circled around her. There was no mistaking his identity. No room to pretend the handsome man might simply be a misguided, suffering, hurt, little boy, who could be shown the light and returned to the path of righteousness.

'Just a little teaser,' Voldemort said tauntingly. 'You don't want me to do that again, do you, Hermione?'

She quickly shook her head in fright, saving all the precious time she had for breathing instead of speech. She felt like she needed to breathe in all the air in the room before her lungs would ever function properly again.

'Then answer me!' Voldemort snarled.

'N-no...no,' she stuttered.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Though, she did not notice it, because she was still crouched up on the floor.

'Not that question, woman,' Voldemort annoyingly retorted. 'What did you ask the Room to become? Tell me now!'

Hermione mumbled the sentence she used to him.

Voldemort tilted his head. 'I didn't quite get that. Perhaps a little more pain…'

'No, please!' Hermione breathed out those words like her life depended on it.

Voldemort's mouth curled up into a smile, he pointed his wand directly at her and softly said: 'Then I suggest you answer me loud and clear, not to mention quickly, or prepare yourself for another dose of pain. And I promise you… this time… it will last longer.'

'I told the Room I needed to hide my books from you,' Hermione said, more forceful now, even though her breathing was still erratic.

'You used my name in that sentence?' Voldemort enquired.

'Yes,' Hermione answered, feeling thoroughly defeated.

'That could become … problematic.'

He stepped away from her and Hermione heard the chair creak when he sat back down in it. She looked up slightly to see a doubtful, frowned expression on his face. She made it to a seating position without toppling over and she remained silent. Afraid it would all start over again, if she drew attention to herself, and to the fact that she was the one who made it a problematic issue in the first place. She wished she wasn't so damned alone. She wished Harry and Ron were here to help her.

'I can't do this without you guys,' Hermione thought.

And all of the sudden, she heard a little voice inside her head, a voice that sounded an awful lot like Harry. 'You're not, you know, defeated.'

'What?' she asked the voice.

'You're still alive, aren't you? Still here to fight another day,' Harry continued.

'But I told him. You never would have,' Hermione retorted.

'I would have.' Ron's voice sounded reassuring. 'We're not all nutty heroes like Harry.'

'Well, this nutty hero, as you so complimentary put it, Ron, might have told him too.'

Harry's voice pissed Hermione off, since he was now, obviously, lying to her. And she responded angrily: 'No, you wouldn't have. You would have said nothing. He tortured you too, Harry. I remember. There is no need to sugar-coat it for me. I don't have your strength. I am weak.'

Now, it was Harry's turn to get upset. 'You. Are. Not. Weak. Now, you listen to me, Hermione. Sure he tortured me, because I lived. It was never with the intent to get answers. It was his sick, twisted idea of pleasure. I had nothing to offer, nothing to make it stop. Who knows, if I would have...'

Hermione planned to argue with the little Harry voice inside her head, but it continued. 'Besides, it's not like you told him something useful, right?'

She thought about that.

'Yeah,' said the little Ron voice triumphantly in her head. 'You heard the sicko say it himself, problematic. Ha! More like impossible if you ask me.' And she could just see Ron beaming at her, a proud expression on his face.

'Nothing is impossible, Ronald.' But her reply lacked the determination to make it sound very convincing.

'Get up.'

Harry was laughing. 'You have asked the Room of Requirement to hide the books from Riddle. No matter from what direction you look at the problem, the Room will not provide the books to him. Am I right or am I right?'

'Potter, I think that analysis will cost you ten points from Gryffindor for being right all the time,' Ron stated in an eerie likeness to Snape.

Harry snorted at Ron. 'Geez, Professor, only ten? Are you feeling ill today?'

Now, they were all snickering inside her head.

'Evans, I told you to stand up.'

She did not hear the irritated voice over the very loud laughing inside her head.

'EVANS!'

A kick against her leg pulled her out of her reverie. Shocked, she looked up to see Riddle had got out of his chair and was now towering over her, watching her with a frown on his face. Upon seeing he finally had got her attention, the next command spat out of his mouth. 'Get up and follow me.'

And he turned around swiftly, not waiting for her reply, and walked to the door.

'He couldn't possibly have…,' Hermione thought anxiously, while she got to her feet. She tried hard to think of a way around her carefully phrased words, but nothing came to mind. 'Still, he was, uh..., is the most brilliant student that was... is here, according to Dumbledore. He might have found some way to retrieve those books.'

Hermione had found out a long time ago, during her DA days, that it was always important to be specific in your request of the Room of Requirement. The more you were able to specify, the better the Room became accustomed to your needs, which in her case meant the lesser the chance was for Riddle to get his hands on the books. She was pretty certain not even someone else could enter the Room with the intent to obtain the books for Tom Riddle right now. But like she had previously told Ron, there was no such thing as a total impossibility. It was just improbable. Highly unlikely.

She had gained up to him, so he raised his wand at the door. Another nonverbal spell flew of his wand and the door became transparent. The corridor behind it was instantly illuminated with the same, too bright light that disturbed her eyesight so much in this room. Upon seeing the corridor was unoccupied, Riddle opened the door.

'Ladies first.'

And he took a step back to let her pass. Hermione was rather suspicious about this new-found gentleman demeanour, but she started to move just the same, only to feel him stop her and push his wand at the back of her neck, before she made it to the corridor.

'Any funny business, Evans, and mark my words, you will pay dearly,' he whispered softly into her ear. 'Comply, and you can go after I am done. Now, move!'

And he pushed her into the corridor. He closed the Room of Requirement's door behind him and moved around to face her, his wand still raised.

'Open it.'

Hermione was flabbergasted. 'What?' she retorted rather stupidly.

'Go get your bag,' he ordered at seeing her surprised expression.

For a second, Hermione wondered if the spirit of Crabbe or Goyle had taken over his body and were making the rather dumbfounded request. 'Surely, he should realise that will never work,' she thought.

Her astonished face must have revealed her thoughts, because he smirked, waved his hand in the direction of the hidden door, and said: 'Humour me.'

Hermione made a face.

'And speak out loud,' he added warningly.

Hermione turned around to walk three times past the invisible door. She shook her head, demonstrating her disbelief over this much nonsense. 'I need the place to retrieve my schoolbag from,' she said mockingly.

After three consecutive turns, a door appeared in the wall. Hermione opened it and it was as she expected. There was nothing there. Clearly, the Room of Requirement identified her as being sent by Tom Riddle, so he could obtain Godric's and Salazar's books. Meaning it was in no way inclined to hand over the bag to her either.

'Just as I thought, problematic.' She heard the quietly spoken words right over her left shoulder, his breath brushed her hair. 'Clever though, very clever.'

His restraint vanished and he reached over her shoulder to smash the door shut. Hermione stirred at the sudden act of violence, fear creeping up inside her stomach. Her arm was suddenly grabbed harshly and he swung her back against the wall. Upon impact she noticed his eyes were flashing red again.

'Cru..'

'Expelliarmus!'

The shout came from across the corridor. Hermione swung her head around to see her future professor, Minerva McGonagall, standing in the corridor, catching Tom's wand that flew right into her hand. Tom immediately pulled out Hermione's wand from his back pocket. Minerva looked at it with a frown on her face and gave Hermione a worried glance.

'What in Godric's name is going on here?' Minerva demanded to know.

'It's just a student illegally wandering around after curfew. I was just about to take her to Professor Slughorn,' Tom answered pleasantly.

Minerva noticed the infuriated look Hermione gave Tom and thoughtfully said: 'I don't recall that you had to patrol the corridors tonight, Tom. I'll take it from here.'

'I think I can handle someone in my own House, McGonagall. It really is none of your business,' Tom stated with authority in his voice.

However, Minerva now drew herself up to her full height, and matching Tom's authority, she stated: 'This…' And she pointed towards her Head Girl badge as she moved closer. '…says it is my business, Riddle. Now, put that wand down and give it back to her.'

Riddle snorted.

'Or what?' he retorted condescendingly. 'Planning to show off some of those pathetic Gryffindor heroics to Hermione? Going to throw a Quaffle at me? Perhaps bore me to tears with your pitiful purring?'

Minerva's cheeks flushed red at the insults and she took Riddle's wand in both hands. 'How about I break this?'

Hermione gasped, and was positively delighted with Minerva's devious solution, so the comment slipped from her lips. 'Now that would be fitting,' Hermione stated, and she was laughing out loud.

Tom promptly turned his head towards her, eyeing her warningly. Minerva gave her a big smile, before returning her attention back to Tom, who was still staring at Hermione intently.

'Riddle?' Minerva asked, still holding onto both ends of his wand, but he did not respond.

'We are not done here, Evans. I'll be seeing you,' said Tom menacingly.

He pushed her wand back in her hand. And for a tense moment, their eye contact remained, when they stood so close, she could practically feel him breathe. But then, he strode off to Minerva, snatched his wand from her fingers, and walked out of the corridor. The two girls watched him leave.

'Such a fine catch,' Minerva said, dryly. 'I pity the girl he plans to marry.'

The thought of Lord Voldemort with a house, a wife, a dog, and two children, behind the traditional white picket fence was a bit too much for Hermione's restraint to handle, and she roared with laughter again. In her mind, she saw images of him and his wife at the dinner table, where they would talk about how his day went, where he would complain about his stupid Death Eaters, who could not get the job done. She knew partly her laughter was caused by her nerves seeking an outlet for the tension and the fear she had endured, because it wasn't really that funny. However, Minerva got infected by Hermione's contagious roaring, and both girls laughed out loud. After a while, they calmed down and Hermione thanked Minerva greatly for her intervention, upon which Minerva eyed her thoughtfully.

'What is really bothering you, Hermione? This isn't about Riddle wanting the books anymore, is it? Because, I haven't seen you get upset about that before.'

Hermione merely looked at her.

'Is this because of what I did the other day? I've noticed you've been acting strange ever since I handed you those books. I thought I already promised you I would not try to take them from Riddle again.'

Hermione nodded. 'I know you did.'

'So it really is something else, isn't it? You found out something else! Something important. Information!' Minerva held her breath at her own conclusion. 'You found some book in Godric's Room that can help us! Tell me, what did you find?' And she eyed Hermione with clear excitement in her face.

'I can't. It's complicated.'

'Everything is complicated. You don't have to do this alone, Hermione. I'm here to help. We're in this mess together, remember?'

Hermione stared at Minerva when she heard the words she, herself, had once used to persuade Harry to trust her and Ron with what was troubling his mind. 'We're all in this together.'

She looked up and down the corridor. 'Not here,' she decided. 'Let's go to Godric's Room. We won't be disturbed in there.'

'But what about the books?' Minerva eyes darted towards the Room of Requirement, so Hermione knew she had guessed correctly that they were in there.

'They'll be safe inside the Room of Requirement for now. Riddle can't get in there, and I can't take Salazar's book into that room Godric's book created. It's almost like it doesn't want to go there. Besides, I have a feeling that if I pull those books from the Room of Requirement, Riddle will be back here somehow. So let's just go, and I'll tell you what I found.'

After Hermione told Minerva all about Helga's journal and the mission she had accepted, Minerva looked out the window. Her hand was stroking her chin. She was contemplating on something. Suddenly, she turned. 'We are going to need help with this,' said Minerva decisively.

'No,' Hermione said, utterly shocked at the concept of getting more people at risk.

'Yes,' Minerva said thoughtfully. 'We do need to tell some more people. We're going to need help with this search. He has got almost the entire House of Slytherin as backup, and I'm sure he will use his Mister Wonderful Routine to get help from students in other Houses as well. I saw him yesterday charming that Macmillan girl, and she is in Hufflepuff.'

'There is a Quidditch Match coming up between Hufflepuff and Slytherin,' Hermione dully said. 'I overheard Mulciber complaining to Riddle about Macmillan's skills on a broom. He probably just wants to take out the Hufflepuff seeker.'

'Since when does Riddle care about Quidditch?' Minerva asked, sounding scornful at the mere notion that there were actually people out there who did not care about her favourite sport.

'He cares about winning,' Hermione retorted.

'But are you sure it's that? Can you honestly say that you're one-hundred percent certain that Riddle is not aware there are two more volumes to obtain? And that Helga's book is not the reason why he suddenly developed an interest in Eve? You are convinced it's because of her seeker abilities? I can tell you that Eve Macmillan comes from a long, long line of pure-blood wizards and witches, who all went to Hufflepuff. They could easily be related to Helga Hufflepuff. It would not surprise me. It would explain the family's high-and-mighty attitude.'

Minerva seemed to be lost in deep thought after her last remark and Hermione knew she could not answer Minerva's question with certainty. There was no way to be certain whether Riddle knew, but still, Hermione thought the timing between Mulciber's complaining and Riddle developing an interest in Macmillan was way too convenient to be about something else than assuring a victory for his House.

'We need all the help we can get,' Minerva stated in a bossy tone of voice that Hermione found incredibly annoying. 'What about Augusta Longbottom? Do you know whether she is trustworthy in your time? She had a crush on Riddle…'

Hermione interrupted Minerva's questioning of character in regards to Neville's grandmother, and reassured her that Augusta was firmly opposing Lord Voldemort in her day and age, but that they could not involve her. Hermione was worried something might happen that would prevent Neville from ever being born.

'Too bad Ian Potter left school last year, otherwise I would have asked him to help us,' Minerva continued with a frown on her face.

'No, we can't endanger more people.' Hermione began, shocked at hearing the mere mention of any of Harry's relatives in relationship to this dangerous enterprise.

But Minerva interrupted her. 'What about Pomona Sprout from Hufflepuff? And Ernest Lovegood? He is in Ravenclaw. We need backup from every House if we're going to make this work. You're already in Slytherin, so you can keep an eye on things there, and I suppose we could ask Rubeus as well. He has much more freedom to move around the grounds than any of us. And there is definitely no love between him and Riddle.'

Minerva was cleaning her glasses with her wand, while waiting for Hermione to respond to the names she mentioned.

'They're all fine people, none of them follow the Dark Lord, but we can't tell them, the time-line…' Hermione's answer got interrupted abruptly.

'Screw the time-line… If Riddle obtains all those books, he won't waste a single moment before using them and you know it. 'We,' and Minerva was emphasising on that word in clear understanding that Hermione was thinking "I" instead. 'We need to stop him. We need to be the first to obtain those books, which means we need help. We won't have to tell them everything, but we need help.'

She knew Minerva was right, but she was very reluctant to admit it to herself. She needed help. They needed help. She finally realised how Harry had felt all those years, when she and Ron were coming along with him and risked their life to assist him. It was not a pleasant feeling. 'I'll apologise to him for everything I said, when I get back,' Hermione thought, before answering Minerva.

'Alright, but only the people you just mentioned, and not a single one more,' she stated.

'So that's Rubeus Hagrid, Pomona Sprout, Augusta Longbottom and Ernest Lovegood,' Minerva recalled.

Hermione agreed and they set up a meeting for next weekend in the Room of Requirement. It reminded Hermione a lot of the Dumbledore's Army meetings she had in the exact same room only two years ago. Well, two years of her lifetime.

xxx
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Masters of Manipulation