Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Tom RIddle/Hermione Granger
Disclaimer: Don't own HP
Summary: When his future self came to him while he was in first year and told him to strike at Harry Potter's strength, Tom had thought he'd meant to kill the girl, Hermione. But somehow, with the help of his Time Turner, Tom ended up making her his instead.
A/N: Hermione is somewhat OOC due to the fact that she’s had Tom Riddle as a mentor from her earliest years----and that changes a girl.
He could still remember how it’d started.
An apparition of his future, deformed self had come to him while he was in the Secret Chamber during his first year at Hogwarts, and had warned him of what his future entailed. He’d been horrified and disgusted at how one mere boy had ruined him to the point of being about to lose a war, and when his future self told him to strike at Harry Potter’s strength, he’d been surprised at what it was.
A muggle girl at that, but his future self had warned him not to underestimate the creature just because of her blood, that she was the strongest, most intelligent witch in their time, and that it was thanks to her that Potter was alive and winning the war.
Curious as to how one person could make his future self both disgusted, angry and reluctantly admiring, Tom had used the special Time Turner his future self had given him and found himself at the hospital the child was born in. Armed with all the knowledge his future self had bestowed on him about this child, Tom looked down at the crib at one Hermione Granger.
She wasn’t much to look at, the newborn, but even as a child sleeping amongst so many others in the maternity ward could Tom feel the power within her, strong and seductive, and he decided to keep an eye on her.
With the use of this Time Turner Tom kept visiting Hermione’s home as she grew up. From an early age she showed such great promise, magic strong in her, and her intelligence…other than himself Hermione was the smartest person he’d ever known, and she was only five years old.
“I made the stool hover, momma was so scared.” Hermione looked up at Tom as she pouted, looking both excited and ashamed.
At first Tom had thought he was being subtle, watching the child under the safety of an invisibility cloak, but she’d noticed him and had taken to thinking he was her imaginary companion. He’d ditched the cloak when he’d realized that it wasn’t needed, only using it whenever her parents would come into the room.
As Hermione’s imaginary friend he could come and go as he wanted, and better yet, he had the child’s complete trust. He’d understood her fear, her inability to understand the odd things happening to her since there was no witch or wizard to explain to her that the things happened because of magic, and he found himself explaining things to the child who soaked in everything he had to say and asked for more.
She was demanding, always with a ‘why’, and while it was annoying as hell, Tom had to smirk because she reminded him so much of himself when he’d been that age.
Somehow, around her fourth birthday, he’d begun teaching her how to use her magic as best as she could without a wand.
“Fantastic.” Tom announced, proud at how easily magic was coming to her, at how good a pupil she was.
Hermione looked up at him, brown eyes wide, a half smile playing on her lips, hair wild and frizzy as always. “You think?” She frowned slightly. “But mommy was scared.”
They were lying down on Hermione’s Slytherin Green bed. When he’d first started visiting her her things had been frilly and pink, but Tom wouldn’t have it, and had convinced her that she detested pink (it could be considered a hufflepuff color) and that green would better suit her room. Despite her young age she’d managed to convince her parents she wouldn’t sleep in her room anymore unless they changed the color scheme immediately to ‘something more appropriate’.
“It’s her own bloody fault if she can’t understand how talented her daughter is.” Tom sneered, disgusted once more as he thought of the mudblood parents Hermione had.
They were dentists, completely into their job, and somewhat frightened of what their daughter could do.
“But I don’t want to frighten mommy.” Hermione whispered, eyes downcast. “Maybe---maybe I should stop doing magic.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed dangerously as his hand shot out and clasped around her small chin, turning her face to his. “Never be ashamed of your magic! It’s those disgusting lumps of flesh and waste of oxygen you call parents who should be ashamed! They’re nothing! They are nothing!”
Hermione’s brown eyes widened in shock and slight fear, trembling.
Tom fought with his inner rage and let go of her chin, lying back against her bed’s backrest. “You will not stop with your magic.” He was used to giving orders and having them followed, and Hermione wouldn’t defy him, not when he’d already begun conditioning her to his will. “You will not care if those things are affected by it. You are superior, you rose above evolution and you overcame your unfortunate mudblood heritage.”
Hermione winced, looking away, her five-year-old face a mixture of hurt and confusion and the tiniest bit of pride.
“Now, tell me the spell used to open doors.” He announced, ignoring her mixed emotions, slipping back into the role of mentor.
“Alohamora.” Hermione whispered without a second’s hesitation.
Tom smirked, reaching out his hand and slipping his fingers through her desperately wild locks, not even noticing that he was stroking her hair. “Good girl.”
That blinding smile appeared on her face as she looked up at him, obviously pleased at his approval.
“A harder one now.” Tom announced, pulling his hand away from her surprisingly soft hair. “What about the spell to attack some idiot with canaries?”
Hermione giggled and quickly answered.
They spent the time like that until it was time for Hermione to sleep, and Tom used to the Time Turner after her mother had tucked her in bed with a kiss to the forehead.
Tom found himself spending more and more time in the future with a growing Hermione. His schedule was very limited due to the fact that he was now in third year and already beginning to have a following as the true heir of Slytherin. He wasn’t Halfblood Tom anymore, he was called the Dark Lord by a select few, and he enjoyed the power he had over the Slytherins.
But he found, surprisingly enough, that he enjoyed spending time with Hermione more than he did with his followers.
“It’s so beautiful!” Hermione whispered as she looked at the necklace he’d brought back with him this time. The eight year old had been home with an aunt (her parents out on a “Dentist Retreat”) and her face had lit up when he’d appeared in her bedroom. “Thank you.”
And then she came to him and pulled him down by the front of his robes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
She let go of him immediately after and hurried to her mirror to put it on and admire it, leaving Tom frozen in shock, eyes wide, pale, a hand to his still warm cheek.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Hermione whispered, looking at the Slytherin Green stone with the regal silver emblem Tom had created to represent himself. “I’m never going to take it off!”
Tom was still frozen.
He---he’d never been kissed before.
At the orphanage the kids had always bullied him, and the workers had never given a rats ass about him, and at Hogwarts he’d at first been made fun of for being a half blood, and then he’d been feared by all of his house as they realized who he was and the great power he wielded.
Only now did he realize that the only person he had who he could say he felt somewhat close to was this child.
The child was now wearing his secret emblem around her neck, proudly showing his mark of ownership, of his protection. Any of his future followers who saw that mark on her would know she was protected by him and would be killed if any harm befell her.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you!” Hermione twirled around to look at him, brown eyes wide, smile mischievous.
He realized how her smiles had gone from sweet to wicked since meeting him.
“I turned my cousin’s summer homework into a pig!”
Tom blinked. “What?” She’d been able to do that---without a wand?
Hermione’s smile slipped form her face. “Are you not proud of me? I---I thought---.”
He didn’t want to see her like that, crestfallen, hugging herself, all the light that’d been radiating around her seconds ago completely dimmed. “No, I’m very proud.” He didn’t know why he felt like reassuring the kid, wanted to see her smile again. “I’m just surprised. You---you being able to do that without a wand, it’s, it’s amazing.”
And there it was, that bright smile that made her eyes twinkle. “It was.” She giggled, once more the mischievous imp with much too much energy and bounce. “But he deserved it. He called me a freak. So I just, well, I wanted him to pay for it.” Hermione pouted as she walked passed Tom and threw herself on her bed, her red dress swaying. “He’s inferior, he doesn’t even do magic. I just couldn’t let him insult me like that.”
Tom smirked as he heard his own words and reasoning coming from those glossed lips and he went to sit down on the bed as well. “You did well, Hermione.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Hermione whispered, looking up at him, smile soft on her face. “You’re my only friend, Tom.”
You’re my only friend too.
That shocked Tom, but he was able to keep his face emotionless as always as he nodded his head to her comment, acknowledging it.
She wasn’t his friend.
She was just his, period.
There was nothing sentimental about this, just pure ownership and possessiveness.
“I just---,” She sighed, looking away. “I wish I was away from all of this, that I was in Hogwarts, with you.”
Tom smirked, feeling smug. His followers in Hogwarts would do anything for him, bleed for him if need be, but it was the soft devotion of this child that made him feel truly strong. “If you keep up like this you’ll be invited to go to Hogwarts when you’re eleven.”
“Then I will.” She sat up, determined, her hair wild and all around her.
Tom watched her pensively before pulling out his wand and muttering a spell he’d heard the girls use. Immediately Hermione’s wild frizzy mess became silky curls.
He smirked, enjoying the results. “I approve of this look. The dress, it suits you as well. It is much better than the pants or the shorts muggle women use. Dressed like this you look like a lady. I want to see you dressed as such when I come from now on.”
Hermione blushed in surprise, looking away, fingering her hair. “Okay.”
Her submission was sweet like nectar to his taste.
“What spells do you wish me to teach you today?” He asked, getting comfortable on the bed.
Hermione fidgeted with her hands before looking up at him. “I want to learn your favorite spell, whatever it is.”
Tom watched her in silence, before the side of his lip curled.
In his fourth year Tom was growing restless with the way things were going in Hogwarts.
Mudbloods were overrunning everything.
Sure, knowing Hermione let Tom know that some Mudbloods were okay, he’d even taught his followers that if a muggleborn was exceptionally strong they could be accepted, but Hogwarts was filled with weak and useless mudbloods that were only weakening the system.
He knew he had to do something to put an end to this, and sometimes he wondered if he shouldn’t just let his basilisk out to play…but he wasn’t too sure as yet.
Something like that would have to take a lot of planning to be able to pull off.
“I got my letter!” Hermione squealed and threw herself at Tom the moment he arrived at her home in the future. The eleven year old was wearing a yellow sundress, her hair now silky curls, and her smile breathtaking.
“Really.” Tom smirked, the fourteen year old enjoying the way she felt in his arms, yet would die rather than admit it out loud. “I knew you would.”
“Yeah, you did.” Hugging him tighter Hermione finally let go and hurried to her bed to pick up the letter from Dumbledore inviting her to study at Hogwarts. “My parents were actually quite happy for me, they said that they knew they hadn’t been as understanding and supportive as they could have been, but that they’d been frightened, and they wanted me to go so that I could learn more and better myself.”
Tom sneered. “How nice of them.”
Hermione was silent, looking away from him and going to the window.
Tom let the sneer fall from his face, not liking how the mood had changed all of a sudden. “Hermione? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She whispered, hand going to his necklace against her heart.
He didn’t like seeing her like this.
Not his Hermione.
Going to stand behind her, Tom placed his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Hermione? Tell me, tell me who placed that frown on your face and I will kill him.”
He’d torture whoever had made such an expression mar his witch’s face.
A soft smile touched her face as she turned in his arms and tilted her head back, looking deep into his eyes. “I’m fine, Tom. Just a little nervous. I’ve grown up with you telling me about Hogwarts and how wonderful it is to live in a world of magic, and it’s what I’ve always wanted, and now I can live there…I…I just don’t want to do anything to disappoint your faith in me.”
He gulped, realizing how beautiful this girl was becoming. “Just don’t get sorted into bloody Gryffindor, that’s the only thing you could ever do to disappoint me.”
She looked a little nervous. “But what if the Hat puts me in Gryffindor?”
Tom smiled, he actually smiled, and brought the back of his fingers to her cheek, caressing the soft skin. “It won’t put you there if you really don’t want it to.”
“Then I won’t be in Gryffindor.” Hermione whispered, gaze locked with his.
There was something between them, something that’d been building throughout the years, and yet Tom was unable to care to wonder what it was, what it meant.
She was his, that was all that mattered.
He just stayed there, holding Hermione and smiling down at her, feeling that it was right for her to be by his side, forgetting, if only for a second, that she didn’t realize that even if she went to Hogwarts she wouldn’t be going to it with him.
I’ll have to explain everything to her before she leaves for Hogwarts.
“Would you like me to go with you to buy your wand and books and robes?” Tom heard himself offer.
Hermione’s face lit up. “Would you?”
He tenderly brushed a tendril of hair out of her face. “Of course I would.”
They spent the whole day buying what she needed, and somehow Tom forgot to tell her about the little fact that he didn’t exactly live in the same time she did, well, he did live, but he didn’t go to school the same time.
Also, when he’d returned to his time he’d found himself swamped with the many things he had to do, and it was months into his fifth year at Hogwarts before he could even tear himself away from his duties as rising Dark Lord to reach for the Time Turner once more.
Since the spell on the Time Turner joined it with Hermione, and Hermione could be anywhere in the school at the moment, Tom wore his invisibility cloak as he found himself outside by the Lake.
For a moment he was disoriented, then he turned, smile on his face when he heard Hermione’s laughter, but his smile turned into a dark scowl as his gaze finally rested on her…or better said, on the young male with her.
“It’s so good to hear you laugh again.” Hermione whispered, dressed in Ravenclaw blue, as she looped an arm around the male with messy black hair, green eyes, and a strange lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
Tom suddenly froze as he recognized his enemy from the description his future self had given him.
“There hasn’t been much to laugh about, Mione.” Harry Potter sighed, turning to look at her, both at the edge of the lake. “I mean, it’s been a horrible year. First with no one but you believing that I didn’t put my name in that damned Goblet of Fire, and then if it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t have passed the tests either!” He turned to her and looked at the brunette reverently. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Fourteen-year-old Hermione blushed and gazed down at her feet. “You’d have found a way to get through it, Harry, you always do.” Her smile disappeared as she looked up into his eyes. “You faced the Dark Lord and his minions on your own and you won, didn’t you? How many times have you beaten that thing? You---,” she paused, blushing once more. “You’re the greatest wizard I know.”
Tom both winced at the news of being defeated by this kid, and hissed in displeasure at the words coming out of Hermione’s lips. She was blushing at Potter, smiling at Potter, hanging onto Potter, and looking and saying to Potter what she’d only said to Tom.
Sure, from the looks of things Tom had missed a couple of years (four to be exact) since his last visit, but he didn’t like the feeling that he could be so easily replaced in that amount of time.
He would not be replaced.
Hermione was his.
She’d been his from the moment he’d stood over her as she lay in the maternity ward.
“I’m not the greatest wizard, Mione.” And yet Harry Potter was blushing. “If I had I would have been able to defeat that evil monster a long time ago.”
“You will.” Hermione sounded so sure. “Do you know what I honestly think is one of that old ogre’s biggest mistakes?”
Harry looked intrigued. “No, what?”
Hermione smirked. “He tried to kill you when you were a baby.”
Harry blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, it’s simple really.” Hermione announced as they walked passed a pissed yet intrigued Tom. “The reason why Voldemort lost all his powers and his body and everything was because the Avada he sent at you rebounded back on him due to the stronger magic of love by your mother dying to save you.”
Harry winced but nodded.
“And Voldemort tried to kill you because of that prophecy by Trelawney of all people. She couldn’t come up with a vision or prediction if it smacked her on her big, fat, glasses.” Hermione snorted in disgust. “Instead of trying to kill you, he should have just taken you.”
Tom blinked in surprise.
So did Harry. “Taken me?” He squeaked.
“Of course.” Hermione announced. “Think of it this way, he’d have still had his body and his powers (so he wouldn’t look like the deformed monster you told me he looked like) and he’d have had you, the other strongest wizard in history on his side. He could have raised you to be his right hand man, and together not even Dumbledore could stand between him and his victory.”
Harry frowned. “That’s disturbing, Mione.”
Tom ran his hands through his hair. That’s my witch…coming up so easily with an answer to the question I’ve been battling with for years since my future self told me of what will happen.
He returned back to his time and set loose the basilisk in his anger at the memory of Hermione’s hand upon Potter’s. The creature went through the whole castle, and with the foreknowledge of what would happen he made sure that more pathetic mudbloods than just Myrtle died that night, and that Hagrid’s monster was found in the room with the bodies, half eaten.
Hagrid was expelled, his monster destroyed by the Ministry, and no one looked in Tom’s direction, not even Dumbledore suspected him this time around.
And his followers were growing.
So happy with his victory he wanted to share it with Hermione, or, at least be with her, and he used the Time Turner, finding them in her dorm room at night.
He laid on her bed and smiled as he watched her sleeping.
It’d been a long time since he’d been able to do this.
In seconds she’d moved, pulling her wand from under her pillow and aiming it at him, but when she recognized his face in the moonlight her eyes widened. With one spell she closed the curtains around the bed, said the silencing spell, and then she cast a lumos and looked at him in shock.
“You----you----,” and then she slapped him. “You dick!”
Tom was shocked stiff by the greeting, hand to his stinging cheek. Anyone else who so much as looked at him wrong he’d have tortured, and for a second he was tempted to do so with Hermione as well, but she was different, he knew it.
“You let me come here, all by myself, and ask everyone in Slytherin if there was a Tom! I don’t even know your last name! Do you even realize how common the name Tom is?!?” Hermione didn’t seem to realize how dangerous a situation she was in right now by yelling at the future Dark Lord. “Do you know how many insults and things I had to endure because of my dirty blood? And you didn’t appear the first night of me being here, nor the tenth nor the fiftieth! FOUR YEARS LATER YOU JUST SHOW UP AND---.”
And Tom kissed her.
It was mostly because he wanted to shut her up, but it was partly due to the fact that a pissed off Hermione looked beautiful.
He’d never seen her sputtering in anger before but he loved it.
She was gorgeous.
He wasn’t going to apologize to her, he knew it, she knew it, but as her arms slowly went around his neck and drew him closer Tom knew that she’d forgiven him, and that she’d missed him.
He also realized that this was the first kiss she’d ever given, and he grinned into the kiss, smugly, savagely pleased.
She hadn’t let anyone else kiss her.
She’d known she was his too.
His future Dark Queen.
Smirking, deciding he like the sound of the last one, Tom pulled away, imaging Hermione dressed in scarlet and reigning by his side in the new future they’d created together, whether she knew it or not.
It’d take a while to finish her training, but Hermione was the smartest person he knew besides himself, and she would excel in the lessons he’d give her.
She was his clay which he would continue to form and fashion as he saw fit, just as he’d been doing from her earliest childhood.
Soon she’d be perfect to take as his Queen, when she was a little older, when he’d changed enough so that his future self didn’t disgust her as he’d realized earlier on.
When that monstrosity that was him had come from the future and told him to take away Potter’s strength, Tom had thought he’d meant to kill her, but he’d ended up making her his strength instead.
“So, Ravenclaw.” He announced, settling down on the bed and pulling her close, smirking as she rested her head on his chest over his beating heart.
“The Hat wanted to put me in Gryffindor, but I begged it not to.” Hermione admitted, sneaking an arm around his chest and sighing in contentment, closing her eyes. “Anything but Gryffindor.”
“You’re still friends with Grfyffindors.” He pointed out, so not spitefully.
She paused. “Have you been keeping an eye on me?”
“You’re mine, of course I did.”
There was silence before she relaxed against him once more, and he could feel the curve of her lips against the material of his shirt.
Tom smirked, reaching forwards and burying his fingers in her hair.
His witch was a smart one.
She’d known she was his all along.