Hey everyone! So after being obsessed with reading Tom/Hermione fanfics for a couple of years now, I've decided to write my own, taking place during the Deathly Hallows. All will be explained, but for now, just jump right in and enjoy the ride! As you can probably tell form the title, I worship Queen Lana and I love The Great Gatsby. I would recommend listening to Young & Beautiful DH Orchestral version while reading, since that was what it was written to! Enjoy!
I'll say this once, and once only - I own nothing. At all. I have a pair of Loboutins and a Chanel bag, but not a writing deal, k?
A loud crack came through the sky that caused Albus Dumbledore to look up from his desk and out towards the window. A young woman and a young man were falling from the sky!
Hermione jolted awake when a severe nudge to the side surprised her from her daze.
"H-Harry… We're at Hogwarts?"
He nodded solemnly.
"But… That's not possible! You can't apparate into-"
"Which is why I wonder Miss, how you both are here."
"Yes, I am Professor Dumbledore. You have heard of me, then?"
"You're dead!" cried Harry, "I- Hermione, this must be fake. He's dead."
"I am not dead, yet. Tell me, when are you from?"
"When?" Hermione questioned curiously. "What is the date?"
"August 1st 1944."
Harry choked on his breath and staggered to stand. "19… 44?"
"But… how? How could that have happened?"
"I don't know. We were in the house. Nagini struck, and the curse ricocheted all around the room… but… that doesn't explain how we're here."
"Maybe the why is more important than the how," Dumbledore spoke, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.
"Well of course, dear. The how is never as important as the why. For example, I don't care how chocolate frogs move. I care why. And the reason is most definitely to force me to buy more of them, as they always seem to get away."
The teenagers shared a look.
"He's serious," Harry whispered.
They figured out the why approximately four weeks later. Seventeen year old Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin house. Eighteen year old Hermione Granger was sorted into Ravenclaw. She was also asked to be Head Girl. Dumbledore had convinced Headmaster Dippet (Headmaster Dipshit in Harry's words) that Hermione would be a perfect candidate for the 1944-1945 school year's Head Girl.
"Professor Dumbledore's son and daughter, Hermione and Harry Dumbledore will also be joining us this school year. Please make an effort to make them both feel welcome. Miss Dumbledore will also be taking the daunting task as Head Girl, alongside Tom Riddle."
From across the room, both future Gryffindor students shared a look of horror.
Tom Riddle was the why.
As Head Girl, Hermione had to brief the prefects of their duties for the year. She ignored the eyes boring into her head from her left. She would not acknowledge Riddle until she had to.
"I'm sure we haven't had the pleasure to meet yet, Miss Dumbledore. I am Tom Riddle," he spoke in a smooth and velvet voice.
Hermione turned to him, and took the hand that he extended. He kissed it.
"I am Hermione Dumbledore. It is quite nice to meet you. Mr. Riddle."
"Please, call me Tom."
After the prefects meeting, Hermione strolled to her Head Girl dormitory.
Tom was following behind her.
"Please, Miss Dumbledore, allow me to walk you to your rooms."
"There isn't a need, Tom. I know my way. Do call me Hermione. It is after all, my name."
"I insist, Hermione. You never know the dark… creatures that may lurk within the walls of Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts is quite safe," Hermione sniffed, "My father has told me lovely things about the security here."
Tom took strides beside Hermione silently.
"Belladonna," Hermione said. Tom followed her into their shared quarters.
"Belladonna?" he repeated, "Why would an innocent Ravenclaw choose such a deadly poison?"
"Because sometimes, Tom Riddle, things that are beautiful are more dangerous than sin."
Hermione, Harry and Tom had almost all of their classes together. During Hermione and Tom's period of Arithmancy, Harry took Divination. Other than that, Hermione took nearly every class. The classes in 1944 were something different than in her time. Hermione had elected to take Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Charms, Advanced History of Magic, Advanced Herbolody, Advanced Astronomy, Advanced Potions, Advanced Arithmancy, Advanced Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, Physical Defense, and Advanced Muggle Studies.
She had potions with Professor Slughorn first thing in the morning.
"Good morning, students. Welcome to Seventh Year Advanced Potions. Does everyone have the required materials? Please read through the syllabus. We will begin shortly."
Hermione mentally scoffed in disgust at the list of potions that they would be learning.
Professor Snape had taught her nearly all of these by fifth year. Some of the others they had dabbled in sixth year with Slughorn.
"Now I'd like to begin by having you all identify the potions on this table," Slughorn said.
Hermione's hand shot up into the air. Harry rolled his eyes. This was classic Hermione. Stick her in a classroom, and she shall flourish.
"Yes… Miss Dumbledore! Please tell us, if you know any of these potions."
"The first one is Vertiserum."
"Excellent! Five points to Ravenclaw. Does anybody know-"
She shot her hand up again.
"Vertiserum is a potion that when brewed properly allows the administer of the potion to get the truth from the person who drinks it. Vertiserum is useful because it is clear, and tasteless, like water. It is hard to brew, and many cannot brew it at all. Lastly, Vertiserum is illegal to administer without specific permission from the Ministry of Magic, and in non-criminal cases, the drinker of the serum."
Harry rolled his eyes again. Typical.
Slughorn blinked in surprise, "How very Ravenclaw of you, Miss Dumbledore. Fifteen points to Ravenclaw. Can you identify the rest of these potions?" he asked curiously.
Tom Riddle's eyes bore into Hermione's back, but she named them anyway.
"The second potion is Felix Felicis, or Liquid Luck. It takes six months to brew and allows the drinker to have a day of perfect luck. It shouldn't be taken too often because it has side effects of singing, whistling, giddiness, and disastrously reckless behavior that can result in death. It is illegal to drink Liquid Luck before any type of tournament.
"The third is Draught of Living Death. This potion makes the drinker replicate death in every possible way. It can also kill small living creatures, such as plants and leaves. It is exceedingly difficult to brew, and many attempts can be disastrous.
"The last potion is Amortentia. It's a love potion, the love potion. It's the strongest in the world. Nothing can truly replicate love, but this potion is as close as it can get. It causes a powerful obsession and infatuation. Amortentia is known for its distinct pearl sheen and spiral steam. To each drinker, it smells different. I smell… parchment paper, and freshly cut grass… and sandalwood."
Hermione blushed before stepping back.
"Nice job, 'Mione," Harry whispered.
"Impressive, Miss Dumbledore! Thirty points to Ravenclaw. Now, today we will be brewing Amortentia."
Hermione gaped. A love potion? With horny, stupid teenagers?
Some of the girls giggled.
"First, seat assignments!"
"Mulciber and Parkinson. Weasley and Longbottom. Potter and Greengrass. Prince and Lovegood. Dumbledore and Dumbledore."
For a reason that Tom couldn't explain, this made him angry. He didn't want Hermione working with anyone besides him. He didn't even want her looking at anyone else. He remembered kissing her soft skin. She smelled of cinnamon, and vanilla with a distinct sweet sugary smell. She was delicious.
"Sir," Tom drawled in respect, "I don't mean to be invasive, but wouldn't it be more prudent to allow the new students to mingle with other students rather than each other?"
Slughorn paused. "Splendid idea, Tom, as usual! Miss Dumbledore and Tom, you shall work together! Now, Mr. Dumbledore and Black…" Slughorn finished the seating.
Harry glared holes into the back of Tom's head from the station behind them.
Tom turned around to smirk. Harry glared back.
"Now, Hermione, I'll get the ingredients, shall I? You can set the flame."
Hermione agreed and Tom returned moments later with the ingredients he had handpicked. Most students were too lazy, and just summoned them.
"You should all learn from the Head Boy! Hand picked ingredients are far better!"
Hermione crushed the daisy, and added the final ingredient, sliced bleeding heart flowers before stepping back and watching the potion give a small explosion.
As the violet smoke cleared, two heads leaned to look at the potion.
It was perfect. It was pearly, it gave off the spirals, and… the smell.
"It looks wonderful. Hermione, why don't you bottle it and give it to Slughorn. I'll clean this mess up!" Hermione nodded and scampered away with the bottle. Hermione returned a moment later, no wiser, as Tom put everything back into working order.
"Professor Slughorn wants to take the rest of our potion. He said that the Ministry has a fountain of it, and they take all they can get."
Tom gave a charming smile.
She was his, and she better know it.
"He's planning something, Hermione. I know it. He's trying to get close to you! Haven't you noticed? The way he looks at you?"
"Of course he is," Hermione agreed, "The question is for what reason?"
"He thinks we are Dumbledore's children. He wants to get rid of him, remember? He wants to use you. I know it."
"That isn't enough, Harry. It has to be something more. Maybe…"
"No, Mi. He couldn't have. It's impossible."
"He's a legilimens! He could know."
"But he doesn't!"
"How would you know?"
"Because! He would be using it against us! That's what Slytherins do!"
"No you tosser, Slytherins use things to their advantage. Maybe it's to his advantage not to make it known that he knows! Now, I'm going to the library. I'll see you at dinner."
How interesting! Hermione was presently reading a book pertaining to wandlore. She switched to a book on Beedle the Bard, and then finally to the book in the original ancient rune, from her bag.
"Hermione," a voice called, "I'm not surprised to see you here."
"Tom," Hermione replied as she flipped through the pages of her book.
He sat down in front of her and pulled out his own light reading.
"Moste Potent Potions?" Hermione asked, "An excellent read. Though, I must say that that Potions Plentiful is a far more suitable choice."
Really, now? "Do you think so?"
"And why is that?"
"Well, Moste Potent Potions was written by a squib, and so many of his directions are useless, and inaccurate. For example, sopophorous beans should be crushed in order to drain more juice from it."
Tom leaned on his fist and stared at her. "That does make sense, doesn't it? I must read it then."
Hermione gave a stiff nod and looked back down at the book of tales.
Tom was intrigued by the sounds that Hermione made as she read. She made sounds of wonder, and occasionally delight as she translated the book.
"Is that an original copy?"
Hermione looked up, "Oh. Yes, it is. It's an original of Tale of Beedle the Bard. I've been working on translating the entire thing for weeks now."
"It's already been translated."
She cocked her head to the side, "Not accurately though, in the least. Many of them have been altered to be more suitable for… children. Professor Loharr gave me permission to use this as my N.E.W.T project."
Tom was amazed, solely for the reason that she wasn't a simpering house witch, and she certainly wasn't stupid. Hermione Dumbledore was as clever as they came.
"'Mione?" came a voice.
Tom successfully hid his disdain.
Harry came into view and slid into the seat beside his "sister".
"What books did you use to cross-reference for our essay on the Patronus Charm in Merrythought's class?" Harry didn't acknowledge Tom. Why should he?
"Professor Merrythough, Harry. Honestly!"
Suddenly, Hermione cocked a brow in wonderment, "Harry, you did your homework?"
Harry glared, "Yes. I always do my homework, 'Mione."
'Mione? Who told him he could call her that? Not me! Tom fumed from across the table.
"On time?" she stressed, "Early! Let me see."
She snatched his essay and hummed in agreement a few times. His paper wasn't even bleeding when she was done.
"You made an excellent point about the memory being less strong than the feeling for the charm. I think there's more information in Light Magick: A History of Magic Preferred. That would be over in the history of magic section under defensive charms 'patronus'. The library is categorized by-"
"Subject, Mi, I know. Thanks."
Tom cleared his throat in annoyance at being ignored. He was Lord Voldemort. All Slytherins should bow to him, "Dumbledore."
As Harry left, Hermione turned to Tom, "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"You know exactly what I mean," Hermione hissed as she gathered her things and stormed away.
Harry took this chance to reappear. "Stay away from my sister, Riddle. She doesn't need someone like you in her life."
Tom walked through the hallways with a deceivingly calm look on his face. Harry Dumbledore will get his comeuppance! His face twisted into a sour frown.
Then a familiar laugh rang through the hallway.
"Harry! You can't say things like that," she said giggling.
"Well, it's true, isn't it? I can't say he's a pleasure to be around."
"Harry," the voice said sternly, but with laughter, "We're going to be here for a while. It's no use making enemies this early. What if we never go home?"
Surely Hermione could not be considering leaving… Could she?
"'Mione, we're going home. We can't stay here forever."
"It's almost nice though, isn't it?"
"It's just you and I. We're spending real time together… It's good to be together without the threat of… R-Ron or the war hanging over our heads."
"I'm really sorry about that, 'Mione. I shouldn't have-"
"It's okay, Harry. You don't need to apologize. It wasn't your fault."
Tom heard a silence and then the distinct sound of lips smacking.
"I'll be going back to my dorm now, Harry."
"I'll walk you. Never know what beasts lurk the halls this late at night."
Tom rounded the corner and caught up with them.
"'Mione! And… Dumbledore. What are you doing up after hours, Dumbledore? I'm sure you know curfew was fifteen minutes ago. You should be in the dorms now. We wouldn't want our house to lose any points, would we?" he sneered.
"It's okay. Harry came to get me from the library. He wanted to walk me. It's my fault, Tom."
Tom eyed her before agreeing.
"To your dorm, Dumbledore, before I change my mind."
"I'll walk her to the dorms. After all, you never know what beasts lurk the halls this late at night."
Harry gave him an angry glare before storming back to his own dorms.
Hermione gave Tom a stern gaze. "Hmph!" she flipped her hair and also barreled away.
"'Mione!" Tom called after her, "What about our rounds?"
She froze and turned a heated eye to him, "My name is Hermione!" and she stormed off again.
Tom's eyes became slits after the Head Girl.
"Does she really think she can walk away from me?"
Well if she does, she has another thing coming.
In the midst of being pursued by the Dark Lord, Hermione Dumbledore, what will you do?
Sufficiently interested? Will you keep reading? Will you review? Tell me what you think. I'll update soon for sure!
- Queen A