Tom shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you did all of that."
"Believe it," grinned Hermione. She got up from her seat and sat down in between Tom's legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his head on her shoulder.
Ever since Tom disbanded the Knights of Walpurgis, he had been insistent on hearing the rest of her Hogwarts days in between classes and Quidditch. It took a few weeks but she managed to feel him in on everything up until the battle at Hogwarts. She was saving that story for another day.
"Turning yourself into a cat has to be my favorite. It sounds more outrageous than the other feats you've accomplished."
"Even riding a dragon or getting kidnapped by mermaids?" Tom mumbled an agreement against her neck causing her to roll her eyes. "Well. I guess I can agree. That is an experience that I would not like to repeat."
Tom nibbled at the sensitive skin in the crook of her neck. "It is something that I would like to see for myself."
"Too bad. You'll have to stick with my memories. If I ever turn into a cat again, I'll hex the person responsible."
"Duly noted," mumbled Tom as he pressed deeper kisses into her neck, teeth scraping against smooth skin.
. . . .
"Slytherin scores another shot! But where is the snitch!"
That put the score twenty-to-fifty with Gryffindor on the losing end. Hermione sighed in frustration. She hated when they played against Slytherin. Tom was just that good of a keeper.
Hermione looked around the pitch for the quaffle while keeping an eye out for the bludgers. She spotted a fourth year Slytherin who had unruly brown hair with the quaffle. She couldn't remember his name except for that he used to be a Knight of Walpurgis and that Tom didn't seem particularly fond of him.
She angled her broom down toward the left a little before shooting off into the kid's projected flight path. Swooping in front of him, she grabbed the quaffle right out of his hand. The kid followed behind her, spouting off curses.
The kid was too fast to shake off.
Streaks of blonde and brown blue by her. Sylvia and Archer swooped in and boxed the Slytherin, giving her a chance to get away. Clutching the quaffle tight against her chest, she flew toward the goal. The only obstacle left was Tom.
He sat on his broom in a relaxed position, wearing a bored expression. Did she really not seem like that much of a threat? It ticked her off with how confident he was.
Should she feign to the right? Maybe the left? Ugh! She needed to hurry before the other chasers caught her.
Screw it.
Hermione glanced to Tom's left. She pushed her broom forward before turning a hard right. She threw the quaffle.
It went in.
Tom was still in front of the middle goal. That should have been an easy block and Hermione knew it.
. . . .
"You let me score on purpose!" Hermione seethed as soon as her feet were on the ground.
"I don't know what you're talking about," feigned Tom.
"Don't lie to me!"
"I'm not," Tom wrapped an arm around her shoulder which Hermione had half-the-mind to shake it off. "That pure look of determination and the way you bit your lip distracted me."
"W-what?" He really shouldn't say things like that.
A hand clapped her on the back. "Quit arguing and take the win," smiled Sylvia, her green eyes twinkling with their recent win.
"Yeah," agreed Tom. "Take the win. It's not every year that Gryffindor wins the Quidditch cup."
Hermione was about to argue with him when she caught a glimpse at an odd sight. "Tom, look." Tom obediently looked to where she was pointing. Coming through the crowd was Dippet and beside him was a short, elderly woman with brown hair.
"Dippet. Grandmother," greeted Tom when the two arrived.
"A well played game," said Dippet to both of them. "Congratulations, my dear," he told her.
"Fleamont was the one who won us the game," admitted Hermione.
"True, but you played a huge part in helping your team score," Dippet told her with a smile.
"Yes, you played marvelous, both of you," said Mary with a smile, "though I still do not understand the whole concept of the game."
"I can always explain it to you in greater detail," Dippet told her.
"I don't mean to be rude-"started Hermione.
"How are you here?" Tom cut her off.
"I thought it would be lovely for Mrs. Riddle to get to know this side of the world. To see how magic works up close and to see you kids."
Hermione agreed that it was a good idea. Mary was open minded to magic and took an interest in knowing about Tom's life, both the magic and non magic aspect. This surprise visit would also help Hermione get to know the older woman better now that Mary accepted her.
. . . .
Before Hermione knew it, the end of the year was near. To be exact, it was the day that she, Tom, and the rest of the seventh years graduated.
Hermione pulled the Time Turner out of her pocket. It's been a while since the last time she looked at it.
"What are you doing out here?" Hermione looked up from her spot on the grass. Tom was making his way to her with a warm smile on his face. "We need to leave now before we're late to our own graduation."
"Of course." Hermione stood up and brushed off her robes.
"What is that in your hand?"
She dangled the necklace down for him to see. "It's the Time Turner. I never did show it to you, did I?"
"Uh, Hermione?"
"What is it Tom?" She laughed. She wondered what questions he had about the necklace and hoped that she could answer them.
"Didn't you say that one was forced back to the original time of use when all the grains of sand fall to one side?"
That was his question? She figured he would ask something much more difficult. "Yes."
A look of horror washed over his face. His hand darted out for her. "Herm-" his words were cut off when all the colors around her swirled together.
Her eyesight cleared and a nauseous feeling swept through her. Instead of the beautiful courtyard and an intact Hogwarts, she was surrounded by dirty, broken and bloodied people and a just as dirty and broken Hogwarts.
She had been wrong? How could she have been totally and completely wrong?