Just let me wake up already

Premise: What would you do if you went into a Pensieve, and then found that you couldn't leave? What if the only person who could see you was your arch-nemesis? You'd haunt him and try and make his life hell, of course. HG/TR

A/N: Hello, everybody! I've been wanting to try my hand at writing something TR/HG, but I wasn't sure how to accomplish that without resorting to using a time-turner/diary, etc. Recently (maybe ten minutes ago) this plotbunny moved into my head and refused to vacate until I wrote it out. So, here goes. I've never read any fics using a Pensieve as the method of meeting, so hopefully this is an original concept. This is also slightly AU, as I need to tweak the circumstances a little bit to get Hermione in contact with a Pensieve and the right memories. Enjoy!

Chapter One: Curiosity Killed the Cat

"Will someone please remind me why we're doing this again?" Ron asked as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ron, we've gone over this ten times already! We're searching for things to help us on our mission!" Hermione said, keeping her voice down as she repeated the reasoning to her red-headed friend.

"Then why are we whispering?" Ron asked. Hermione wanted to smack her head against the wall in frustration.

Hmm, how about breaking and entering? She scoffed internally. While what they were doing wasn't really "breaking," (Harry knew the password) scouring the former Headmaster's office after his death for things that would be useful to them on their journey might have been looked down upon by some.

Professor McGonagall had let it slip that the three students were included in his will, but that the items willed were being detained for the moment. Outraged, the trio decided to take matters into their own hands. If Dumbledore had left them some important information about the destruction of Horcruxes, then they needed to know about it, and the sooner the better.

"This way," Harry said, slipping on his invisibility cloak. "I'll check this room, you two take the side rooms and closets." As it was nighttime, most of the portraits were fast asleep, but he was taking no chances.

"I'll go this way," Ron said, heading left as Hermione went right on the small corridor that branched out in front of Dumbledore's office. They were looking for anything: clues, books, or letters. Anything that could help them better understand the task that Dumbledore had left them.

What made Hermione uncomfortable the most about their situation was how little she actually knew about what they were up against. She liked to know everything about a problem or challenge before diving in, and here they were going in blind. Of course they knew that they had to destroy the Horcruxes, but they had no idea where to find them or what they were.

If only we would've had a little bit more time! Hermione thought with regret. It was too soon for everything, none of them were ready. None of them were prepared.

She approached a set of small double doors, opening them to reveal an unfamiliar basin with a light blue-ish water swirling inside. Hermione lifted a finger and prepared to dip it in, before she recoiled immediately.

Have you lost all trace of thought, Hermione? Her brain chided herself. What on Earth are you doing, this thing could be dangerous!

She bit her lip and studied the basin curiously, both hands now held firmly by her sides. Hermione's curiosity often got her into some strange situations, but she had always been able to keep it under control. And besides, what's wrong with the pursuit of knowledge?

Looking at the swirling blue gel-like substance, Hermione was hit with realization. Harry told me about this. It's a Pensieve! It lets you look at other people's memories.

It reminded Hermione of a stone birdbath she'd seen in the backyard of her grandparent's house. It was detailed with carving on the pedestal and around the brim of the basin, but this one was much more intricate, and some of the carvings and lettering seemed to be of a different language. Hermione squinted, trying to tell if one looked like a rune or not.

Arranged above the Pensieve and on the sides of the closet-like room were shelves lined with tiny bottles, most of them unlabeled. How are we supposed to know which ones are important? Some of these could be memories about Voldemort's youth like the ones Dumbledore showed Harry!

Hermione lifted one of the vials, watching the liquid slosh around happily inside. This one was without a label, and the green murky glass of the vial left no indication of what kind of memory was inside. Hermione could see flashes of faces or shapes in the memory that was currently in the basin, but couldn't infer anything about its contents through those brief flashes.

She rolled the vial lightly in her fingers, musing about what kind of memory would be inside. These all must be important, for Dumbledore to hang on to them like this. She was lost in her thoughts, and didn't notice Ron coming up behind her.

"Find anything interesting?" Ron asked, touching her lightly on the shoulder. Hermione gasped, and the vial fell out of her fingers. It crashed on the ground, the liquid pooling on the wooden floor. She turned, the adrenaline already pulsing through her veins at having been startled like that.

The words, "Ron! How dare you sneak up on me like that!" died on her lips as she slipped in the puddle from the memory, her feet shooting out from under her as she tried unsuccessfully to regain her balance. Her hands grabbed wildly at anything to hold on to, but her fingers found one corner of the shelf containing the memories. The rusty hinges snapped, and the entire shelf's worth of bottles plunged into the Pensieve, the cork or wax caps breaking or bobbing lightly on the surface.

After the shelf broke, Hermione looked on in horror as she felt herself falling again. Not thinking, she grabbed for the rim of the Pensieve, her fingers lightly brushing the blue liquid inside.

Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd done. She felt the pull of the memories tugging at her consciousness, and she locked eyes with Ron before everything went black and she collapsed to the floor.

Inside the Pensieve, the memories swirled together, happily pulsing inside the stone basin. If Ron would have looked, he'd have seen the light blue color change to an eerie green as he called for help, cradling Hermione's body in his arms.

Hermione blinked before looking around. Ok, so I'm in a memory. And it looks an awful lot like Hogwarts.

Indeed, she found herself in the dungeons of the building, near where she'd normally had Potions class. She listened for any signs of voices, and then stuck her head out into the hall, wondering why it was so silent.

Oh, she thought, looking out a small window. It must be after hours. I wonder whose memory this is?

The sound of feet padding quickly up the hall made Hermione dash back in the corridor, before she remembered that she had no worry of being caught after curfew. She looked back, and saw a hulking figure moving down the corridor. Hermione gasped as she caught sight of the face in the moonlight, for it was none other than Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwart's Care of Magical Creatures professor in her time. Here, he looked young, although he was as tall as ever and had the same wiry black hair.

She followed him, unsure of what she was expected to see in this memory. She had never been inside a Pensieve before, and didn't know what to expect. Will I just wake up once the memory is over?

Hagrid seemed to be heading towards the student Potions supply closet. He looked quickly behind him, making sure no one was following. Too late for that, Hermione thought grimly.

He walked up to the room, Hermione still down the hall as she quickened her pace to keep up. Out of instinct she ducked again behind a pillar as another face came into view. She looked out, wondering who this other person was.

Let's see, Hagrid was expelled during his third year, so this has to be before that, right? She thought, wondering why Dumbledore would have this particular memory.

"Tom! What're ya doin here?" Hagrid asked, obvious worry in his voice. "I am Head Boy, I am allowed to be wherever I like," the other person sneered. "And I know what you're doing down here. Your creature has been harming the students of this school, and it must be stopped. I'm turning you in, Hagrid."

Head Boy? Who is this? Hermione thought, but the shadows from the pillars in the dungeons blocked her view of his face.

"He wouldn't!" Hagrid said, indignant fury rising in his voice. "He's not a killer! He wouldn't hurt a fly!"

Cold dread pooled in Hermione's stomach as she realized where she was. Right in front of her, Rubeus Hagrid was being framed for the Chamber of Secrets. And she now knew the identity of the mysterious Head Boy: it was none other than Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort.

Oh. My. God.She thought, taking a step back. Ok, I'm done. I don't want to see any more of this. I don't want to be here any more She had never been face to face with Voldemort before, and had no intentions of seeing his teen self.

"Hagrid, leave. Let me kill this creature and then we'll go see Dumbledore about your punishment. I daresay there's a cell in Azkaban waiting for you. That poor girl, what ever did she do to you?" Tom said, and Hermione didn't need to be able to see it to know that his mouth was turned up in his trademark arrogant smirk.

Poor Hagrid Hermione thought. Although, wouldn't hurt a fly? Even for Hagrid, that's an awful big misconception for a giant spider.

She was too lost in thought to notice that the voices had stopped. Peeking out from behind the pillar, she could no longer see either Hagrid or Tom anywhere. Ok, what else am I supposed to see?

She walked into the corridor, but it was silent. She turned, heading towards the Headmaster's Office. Wait a second, Dumbledore isn't even the Headmaster yet! It's Armando Dippet, if I remember correctly.

She had passed under a flaming torch when a voice called out, "Hey, you!"

Hermione kept walking, the stairway that led to the main floor in sight. "I'm talking to you! Turn around!" the voice called again.

Surprised, Hermione turned to see who the voice was talking to. She was met with the bright green eyes of Tom Riddle, staring right back into her hazel ones as he walked towards her in the hallway.

She looked around, trying to see who he was talking to.

"Are you deaf?" Tom asked again, and Hermione blanched. "Wha-what…me?" She asked, confused.

Tom rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to? What are you doing walking around after hours?" His voice held a dangerous edge.

"I…I…" was all Hermione could choke out. This can't be happening, he shouldn't be able to see me! She resisted the urge to clap her hands over her ears, close her eyes, and start chanting 'you can't see me, la la la la'

"This is impossible! Y-you shouldn't be able to see me!" She cried, her voice wavering. She looked around, waving her hands in front of her. For the first time, she noticed the semi-transparency of her arms. "Merlin, I'm a ghost!"

Tom looked almost as surprised as she did, but he regained his composure quickly. "I've seen all the ghosts here, and you don't look familiar," he said suspiciously.

"That's because I'm not a ghost!" She huffed, crossing her arms indignantly.

"But you just said you were," Tom pointed out.

Hermione felt like screaming. Is this my punishment for breaking into the Headmaster's Office and intruding on his…oh, gosh, the Pensieve

"Make up your mind, what are you?" Tom asked.

"I have no idea," Hermione said crossly. "And even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you."

Tom raised an eyebrow at her childish antics. Any normal student would've been scared into submission by now, and none of the ghosts of Hogwarts ever paid him much attention. They were smart enough to stay away.

"Tom, are you still down here?" A voice called from the stairwell. Hermione stopped ranting to turn and look at the source of the voice. A much younger Dumbledore descended the stairs, the usual twinkle gone from his eyes as he asked, "Have you apprehended the creature?"

Hermione looked on in confusion. Dumbledore walked straight towards Tom, never once looking at her. His eyes momentarily crossed the space where she stood, but they passed over her just as quickly.

"Professor! I need your help!" Hermione called, but Dumbledore gave no indication he ever heard her.

"No, I'm afraid Hagrid allowed it to escape," Tom said with distaste. "It's probably in the Forbidden Forest by now."

"I see. Will you join me in the Headmaster's Office with Headmaster Dippet and Rubeus Hagrid? We'd like to keep this as quiet as possible, if not to scare any more of the students," Dumbledore continued, heading back up the staircase.

"Professor!" Hermione called again, this time her voice breaking more out of fear than worry. What have I done? She thought. She looked up at Tom, who gave her a knowing smirk before walking past her after Dumbledore.

Why, that inconsiderate, arrogant, contemptuous bastard! She thought, clenching her hands into fists. It would feel so good to throw a full-scale temper tantrum, but she had other things to think about.

And he knows, she thought with dread. He knows Dumbledore can't see me. I wonder…I wonder if anyone else can, too?

She thought back to the Pensieve. They had never really covered Pensieves before in class, but this seemed highly irregular. How many memories, exactly, had fallen in? If they were all about Tom Riddle, that might explain part of why he was the only one who could see her.

But it's just a memory, she thought with confusion. How will my presence here affect things? She remembered where she was, and raced up the stairs, heading for the Headmaster's office.

She stood in front of the stone gargoyles, which had just closed when she stepped out of the stairwell. That's just great, she scoffed. Although…I wonder. She reached an arm out tentatively, lightly brushing the stone with her fingertips before fully plunging it through.

She immediately withdrew it, clutching the hand to her chest as she massaged the fingers with her other hand. The sensation was unusual, although not painful in any way. She took a deep breath, and was about to walk straight through, when the gargoyles opened, and Dumbledore and Tom Riddle stepped out.

Hermione shot back, not particularly wanting to walk through either of them. Hermione caught Tom's look of surprise, but he quickly masked it with his normal charade of concerned student. "You should go back to your dormitory," Dumbledore was saying. Tom nodded, then turned and walked down the hall away from Hermione as Dumbledore retreated back into the office.

"Don't you walk away from me!" Hermione cried, racing after him. "You can see me!" She said, like that justified her statement.

"Just what the hell are you?" Tom asked, stopping. He looked irritated, and Hermione knew that he had dropped his 'innocent' façade long ago. Since she couldn't go to anyone for help, he had no reason to pretend to be anything but what he was.

"What am I?" Hermione asked angrily. She put her hands on her hips. "My name is Hermione. I won't bother with the niceties because I already know your name, Tom Riddle."

Tom's eyes narrowed. "So are you some kind of poltergeist?"

Images of Peeves flashed in her head, and Hermione burst out laughing. She looked up, and only laughed harder at the deep scowl etched on his face. Obviously not the reaction he was expecting, she thought with a giggle.

"Well, go haunt someone else." And with that, Tom spun on his heel and walked away.

Hermione let him go. Unwittingly, he had just provided her with the perfect course of action. He was the only one who could see her and talk to her. He would help her or she would just haunt his every waking hour. And if he didn't, she would make his life hell for everything he'd do in the future. This could be fun.

"I'll be your own personal poltergeist, Tom Riddle," Hermione promised softly after he had left.

A/N: Ta-da! And there you have it. I know the memory of Hagrid and Tom was taken from the diary, but I wanted to send Hermione back to a time when Tom was still in Hogwarts and preferably in his seventh year, and that was the only one I could think of. I also hope I'm keeping them in-character, especially Tom. He's very difficult for me to write, but hopefully that'll get better in later chapters. I'm not sure how long of a fic this'll be, as I've already planned how it's going to end, I just need to get it there. Anyways, any comments on the plot or the characterizations would be greatly appreciated! I'll update as quickly as I can.

--Kako