Tom woke up the next morning with the taste of mint in his mouth. He rolled onto his back and cushioned his head with an arm. A smile came to his lips as he remembered last night's events.
He had kissed Hermione. She had kissed him back. His smile grew into a full blown grin.
Getting out of bed, he quickly changed. As quietly as possible, he opened his door then crept over to Hermione's. He wondered if she would kiss him or hit him when he snuck in. She would probably hit him though he was hoping for a kiss.
He cracked open the door and got ready to pounce on the bed. The bed was empty. Casting a quick charm, he found that he was alone in the dorm. A smirk formed on his lips. Time for a game of cat and mouse.
. . . .
A shadow fell over her.
Hermione turned to the side to find that the shadow belonged to Fleamont. "Hey," she greeted him. She wondered if he was upset with her for last night. She did love him but wasn't in love with him. Fleamont was just a really good friend who connected her to Harry.
Fleamont grinned and sat down beside her. At least he wasn't taking her rejection hard. Maybe that was a good sign.
"Quit staring at me like that. I know I'm good looking but you'll get people talking. Starting rumors that we definitely don't want," winked Fleamont.
Hermione blushed and looked away. She hadn't realized that she had been staring. She cleared her throat, unsure of how to approach him. "Ho-how are you holding up?"
Fleamont gave her a funny look before recognition flashed through his eyes. He smiled a big, lopsided grin that lightened her heart. "You don't have to tiptoe around my feelings. I'll admit, I did like you but I prefer you as a friend." Hermione felt her eyebrows furrowing together, unable to hide her puzzlement. It seemed as if he was right, that she didn't need to tiptoe around him. He seemed perfectly fine to her. Fleamont drew her gaze to him with a snort. He wore a smug expression that bordered on amusement.
"Am I amusing to you?" growled Hermione.
Fleamont shook his head. "Not at all. No, actually that was a lie. I find you very amusing." Hermione decided to give into her urge and smacked him on the arm. This only caused Fleamont to break into another goofy grin. "Riddle is going to have his luck cut out with you."
"Tom," squeaked Hermione. Images of her body pressed up against a wall and Tom's lips on hers flooded her mind. "Wha-what do you me-mean by that?" Blast it! Why was her voice so squeaky?
Fleamont quirked an eyebrow at her, probably noticing her growing blush. A wolfish grin morphed his features replacing the quizzical look that he wore. "You told him!" Fleamont smacked the table with his hand.
"Shh!" hissed Hermione as she looked at her peers who were glancing their way unquestioningly. "I did no such thing and besides, why are you so curious about my business with Tom? Didn't you like me yesterday?"
Fleamont shook his head, the grin still on his face. "So, he confessed first." Hermione clamped her mouth shut, afraid that Fleamont would be able to figure everything out. "And. . .to answer your questions," he tapped a finger to his lip as if he needed to think of the answers to her questions. "I'll start by saying this. I do like you but not that way. You are a great dame to look at and you're bloody brilliant so when Riddle approached me the other day, he made it seem as if you were into me." Tom approached Fleamont about her? She was going to kill him! Fleamont chuckled, bringing her out of her inner raging. "Don't be mad at him. I can't believe I'm saying this but he's a great guy. You better not make him wait long."
A shadow fell over them sending chills through Hermione. "I agree. Don't make me wait long. I may not be able to be the gentleman that Potter is painting me out to be if you make me wait too long." Hermione shivered for a whole other reason.
Fleamont stood up from the table. "My work here is done." He saluted the two of them before taking off. Hermione added a second name to her kill list.
Tom slid into Fleamont's now vacant seat. His hand slid underneath the table and wrapped around hers. Heat rushed through her body with his proximity. Without saying anything, she jumped up from her seat and bolted to the door, drawing several eyes to her.
Hermione rushed out of the Great Hall and down the corridor. She couldn't do this. She was starting to seperate Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort in her mind and that was something that she absolutely could not do.
"Hermione." Tom called out from behind her. She gritted her teeth and picked up her pace. She could hear Tom's longer stride catching up. "Hermione!" She had just rounded the corner when a hand wrapped around her wrist.
"Let go," growled Hermione, or at least she tried to. Her voice came out as more of a broken sob than a growl.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Tom spun her around until she faced him. "Is this about me confronting Fleamont?" Oh how she wished it were that simple. In truth, she actually found it kind of cute, if not slightly annoying, that he would do something like that.
"No, it's not that," she finally choked out.
Tom's other hand twitched at his side and it started moving forward before dropping back down. "What is it? It's-it's not about the kiss is it?" Hermione wanted to kick herself. Tom had never sounded so unsure and defenseless.
She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him. He seemed so human, so vulnerable. It was enough to break her resolve. This Tom Riddle was not the Lord Voldemort from her time. How could he be?
Tears spilled out of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Tom's hand twitched again but this time he didn't fight it. His hand came up and cupped her face, his thumb gently pressing the tears away. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'll change whatever you need me to."
Hermione felt her heart fall into conflict with itself. It wanted to soar with glee that Tom wanted to change for her. It also wanted to shriek at her for changing the future. What if she wasn't changing the future? What if this was what was supposed to happen?
Finally coming to a decision, she brought her hand up to cover Toms'. "You don't have to change. I want to get to know this Tom in front of me."
He exhaled in relief before leaning his forehead against hers. "Tell me why you were crying."
A hiccupy laugh left her lips. She pulled away to look into his dazzling forest green eyes. "I just don't know how to deal with all of this," she finally admitted.
"We'll learn together." He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "We should probably go before we're late."
. . . .
Later that night before their nightly patrolling, Hermione walked up the steps to the headmaster's office. She needed to tell someone her secret, someone who wasn't Dumbledore. She felt like she would be letting professor Dumbledore down if she voiced her decision to him.
"Hermione, dear," smiled Dippet when he saw her entering through the door.
She closed the door behind her and fidgeted in her spot, not sure how to begin.
"Is something bothering you, my dear?" asked Dippet.
"Gran-Headmaster Dippet, I need to tell you something that you are not going to like." He frowned at the title she used to address him but waved his hand for her to continue. "Maybe it's better if I show you." Hermione dipped her hand into the pocket of her robes and pulled out the Time-Turner. "Do you know what this is?"
Dippet held out his hand for it. Hermione dropped it into his waiting palm. He leaned closer and let out a small gasp. "My dear, I have only seen one other before. How did you manage to get your hands on a Time-Turner?"
Hermione sat down in the chair across from Dippet. "It was given to me by my headmaster from Hogwarts."
Dippet glanced up from her. "Dumbledore?"
Hermione nodded. "Before he-he. He gave me this Time-Turner and a task. I still have no clue what the task is."
Dippet leaned back in his chair. "I would not know what task Professor Dumbledore would have given you. This is something you should probably tell him." Hermione winced, that was the last thing she wanted.
She shook her head. "It's not the task I need help with. Though I was never given specific instructions, I have a pretty good idea as to what it was, or who it pertained to."
Dippet's eyes softened. "You no longer wish to continue on with the task," it wasn't a question.
Hermione nodded. "When I first arrived, I was afraid to change the past for fear of changing the future but I find that I no longer care. No, that's not right. I still do care but. . ."
Dippet got up from his seat and came to stand beside her. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It is alright to feel what you are feeling. You have been in this timeline far longer than should be possible. It was expected for you to come to care for those around you. I'm sure the Dumbledore of your time will be proud of you."
"Thank you."
Dippet removed his hand from her shoulder with a chuckle. "I'm guessing the reason you came to me with this is because the Dumbledore of this time knows of your mission?"
"How-"
Dippet cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I think you have forgotten who taught him. I know the way his mind works, most of the time. It would be foolish of him to send you back without help. I must thank him for giving me a granddaughter."
"Um, actually, about that." Hermione pulled out the second thing in her pocket, the photo from Newt. "This is information on the real Hermione Norris. Your granddaughter." She handed the photo to Dippet.
He glanced down at them with a loving smile. "Thank you."
Hermione got up from her seat to leave. She paused with her hand poised above the door handle. "Thank you for listening. Also, I think Hermione Norris is my grandmother." With that final tidbit, she left the room. The door opened up behind her.
"I want to hear all about your adventures."
Hermione nodded her head. "Our usual tea time?"
"I think we may need to extend those. An hour isn't nearly long enough," smiled Dippet.
"No, it's not," agreed Hermione."
"Oh, Hermione. Good luck with your quidditch game this week. I'll be rooting for you."