Riddle Her This

Disclaimer: You charming people if you think these are mine, I wish though! They belong to Jo.

A/N I had an idea for this about five years ago, and now I've finally written it... it's WIP at the moment.

This ones for you Pinkwands, and yes I'd love the urls to those stories.

A Most Confusing Riddle

She was on her own on the Hogwarts Express. Harry and Ron had gone charging up the hallways in search of the sweet trolley, and Ginny and Luna were on Prefect duty. She was bored, more than bored. She had to read her Potions book, not for her favourite Potions Master might she hasten to add… if she had her say, which she fairly rarely did, Severus Snape KNEW and LOVED the subject. Slughorn just KNOWS. She didn’t know about anyone else, but the only way to learn, to truly learn, is to have a teacher absolutely passionate about the subject. The way McGonnagal is with Transfiguration, and Flitwick is with Charms, great teachers, with great ideals, as was Snape.

She sighed, as she looked down at the thing dangling down her neck, it was a time-turner. It was one of the few that survived that mayhem in the Ministry. She was fiddling with it, and she must of dozed off, for she was roughly shaken awake and a voice asking her whom she was. She woke up and was looking in the eyes of a young woman her age that she had not seen before.

She was beautiful; she had the most gorgeous topaz blue eyes that sparkled, and the silkiest raven black hair falling down her back in a lovely straight ripple.

“Wake up you dozy lass,” she said, in a soft Scottish brogue.

“W- who are you?” Hermione asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” the young girl replied. She looked on the other girl’s robes. She was a Gryffindor, and Head Girl, which immediately made her jump, for she was meant to be the Head Girl in Gryffindor.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” she said sleepily.

The woman chuckled, and her blue eyes sparkled with warmth. Whoever this woman was, Hermione could see she was friendly.

“Minerva McGonnagal,” she replied.

She was even more shocked! How could this be Minerva McGonnagal? How many times had she turned the bloody thing?

“What year is this?” She asked, stunned. Merlin, I needed lemon tea, and I needed it NOW, she thought.

“1943,” she replied, “and I am at my last year of Hogwarts. How did you get here?”

She gulped; time-turners were not invented until the late fifties, so she could hardly show Minerva McGonnagal the item.

“I don’t know,” she replied, feeling like a prized fool. The door to their compartment slid open and in walked a Slytherin. She groaned, and then the Slytherin spoke.

“Another one of your little hens McGonnagal?” he drawled. His voice was cold and she shivered.

“Och! You poor wee lamb,” she said, her voice ladled with concern. “Here, I have a jumper, you must be freezing.”

“Thank you, Miss, er, Minerva,” Hermione stammered, as she offered Hermione a ruby coloured ribbed sweater.

“What are you doing here, Riddle?” McGonnagal asked crisply.

“I am just seeing how my favourite Gryffindor is getting along, and we have to meet the Prefects in the Prefects carriage. I suppose you can bring your little friend along.”

She looked up at the name of Riddle. And she had to admit he was drop dead, jaw droppingly gorgeous! It’s a shame about his attitude. She knew who he’d become, and she knew what he HAD done, but that didn’t stop him from being so wonderfully good looking that she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Minerva noticed.

“My name is Hermione Granger,” she said, through gritted teeth.

“Oh another one of ‘them!’ oh well, perhaps one day, Hogwarts will be free!”

“If you mean by that, that I am a Mudblood, then yes I am one of ‘them!’ but I am just as proud of that as you are of being a pure blooded, big headed prat! And for your small mind, Hogwarts is perfectly all right!”

“Prefects Carriage,” Minerva said quickly, darting quick furtive glances between the two of them.

Riddle just looked at her, his eyes narrowing and his lips tightened to a thin line into the two most popular signs of indignation and anger. He strode up to her and placed one hand above her head, his burning dark eyes were boring into her very soul. She looked away; he then tilted her chin to make her look in his eyes.

“I am more than a pure blooded, big headed prat, as you called me, Miss Granger, and believe me, I don’t like little girls with big attitude. You might wish you’d never been born!”

“And I am more than a Mudblood, and I know a spell or two myself, Riddle,” she replied quietly and in a dangerous tone. “I might make YOU wish you were never born!”

He narrowed his eyes even further, and then he smiled, she looked at him defiantly.

“You’re a brave little girl, aren’t you?”

“And you’re arrogant, aren’t you?”

He laughed, it was cold, but she felt it through her own body, as it travelled from his chest to his arms. He bent down even further.

“I admire bravery, Granger,” their lips were mere centimetres away from each other’s. The closeness was making her blood boil. She felt herself blush and he noticed.

“Well, then I guess I admire sly cunning,” I replied softly. He stroked my cheek with the rest of his hand, but he withdrew quickly before she leaned into it.

“I hope to be seeing you around a lot more, Granger, you might be a Gryffindor WORTH talking to. Pity about the blood though!” He then pressed his lips on hers. “I hope to be seeing a LOT more,” he murmured. He then walked away leaving Hermione feeling hot and bothered, she didn’t need the jumper anymore.

“You better be wary of him, lass,” Minerva said. “He’s not exactly, well, normal.”

She looked up into the lovely eyes of Minerva McGonnagal and nodded. She knew what he was, but she could not help but be slightly attracted to him.

“Minerva, what am I going to do?”

“Well, first of all, when all the palaver with the Prefects is over, I am going to write to the school. I suggest you don’t do or say anything to anyone else.”

She opened her packing chest and smiled, as she tossed Hermione a book. Hermione nodded, and she walked out of the compartment, and Hermione smirked as she looked down at the book. It was a Transfiguration book. She sat there reading it, and the time was passing by. She was so engrossed in the book that she didn’t notice anyone entering the compartment.

“All alone?” Tom Riddle had decided to join her, as the meeting was obviously over.

“As you say,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. He sat down by me.

“Now,” he murmured. “As I said, I would like to see a lot MORE of you.”

She blushed and tried to bury her head further in the book, as he stroked her cheek lazily with two fingers. She felt the gentle scrape of nails on her cheek, and she tried not to react. Minerva then came in the compartment, she was more relieved on the outside than she was on the inside.

“I’d like to introduce Hermione to someone,” Minerva said. “Come on, you lummox, don’t be shy, now.”

“Whom are you going to introduce her to?” Riddle asked.

“Rubeus Hagrid,” Minerva said primly. She sat straight up, as she thought he was expelled at this time. She looked at Riddle who put his hands on the back of his head, his legs outstretched, and an arrogant devil may care smirk on his face.

“That oaf,” he drawled.

“No one’s forcing you to stay here, Riddle,” Minerva said. “If you don’t like him, then you can go.”

“With two pretty Gryffindorian women, you think I am likely to go anywhere, anytime soon, am I, Minerva. Unless, Hermione wishes me to leave?”

He looked at her, and his smirk grew wide across his face, he looked almost comical, and she tried not to laugh.

“All right, Minerva,” Hermione replied. “If he wants to stay, let him stay. That’s if he feels like mingling with us commoners.”

He flashed her a charming smile. He then removed one of his hands and inspected his nails. She sighed; he was like a dark haired, and eyed version of Draco Malfoy. Except, she thought, much better looking. NO, Hermione, what’s wrong with you? That’s Lord Voldemort you silly girl! You know, the man that made many peoples lives miserable. He was the monster that almost killed you in your first year.

“I am actually in the mood for commoners,” he said. She didn’t want to sit back, he had edged closer to me.

“Come on, she wants to meet you,” Minerva said in a gentle voice. “And never mind him!”

Hagrid had walked in, he was not as big as he was in her time, but still taller than a fourteen year old should be.

“’Ello,” he said in his soft Somersetshire voice. “I’m Rubeus Hagrid.”

She ran up and flung her arms around his neck, as even now he was huggable, and she wanted a hug from someone she cared deeply about.

“I am Hermione Granger,” she said. She was shaking against his body, and he put an awkward hand on her back and rubbed it slightly.

“There, there,” he rumbled. “Whatever ‘as ‘appened to you, we’ll sort it out, all righ’!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said wiping tears from her eyes. “I just needed to see a friendly face.”

She felt someone prise her body away from Hagrids. He spun her around and Riddle looked at her with a strange expression on his face.

“You’ll soon realise that some wizards are better than others, Hermione, he’s been expelled. And he weren’t that brilliant at magic to begin with.”

She yanked her elbow from out of his grip. She turned around and gave Hagrid a peck on his cheek, at which he turned a bright shade of raspberry.

“See tha’ Minnie,” he said, puffing his chest out. “A pretty girl kissed me.”

Minerva smiled. She then turned to look at Hermione and mouthed thank you. Riddle gave Hagrid a look of extreme disgust, and then he turned to look at her, and before she knew what was happening, he swept her in one arm and kissed her, properly. She felt the tip of his tongue pushing the tip of hers, and hers submitted to his, and then she felt his tongue stroke hers. It left shockwaves, and tingles down her body. She also felt her knickers get wet down below. WOW! For a Dark Lord who supposedly can’t love, his kissing technique was absolutely fantastic.

“And I kissed the pretty girl, Hagrid,” he said. He then walked out of the carriage and gave Hermione a sly wink. She shook her head, and Minerva immediately came to her and put her arms around Hermione.

“That must have been awful,” she said. “No sensible girl I know likes him.”

Was I a sensible girl? She thought she knew, but today had not been the best, and it was the most disorientating day she ever had. Hermione sank back down on the seat, and her heart was pumping in her chest. Oh, what was going to happen to her now… how was she going to get back? And is this the reason why Lord Voldemort tried to kill her in her first year? To prevent my coming into his time? She had no time to contemplate the answers to those horrible questions, as the train skidded to a halt outside Hogsmeade station.

~*~*~

Professor Armando Dippet was sitting in the Headmaster’s office taking his usual snifter when an owl had flown in with a letter in his beak. What was the Ministry bothered about now? He took the letter and opened it.

“Who is that from, Headmaster?” the Transfiguration Professor, Albus Dumbledore asked.

“From young Mr Riddle,” Dippet replied. “It appears there’s this strange girl that appeared as if…” he floundered, not really wanting to use the cliché.

“By magic,” Albus supplied.

“I prefer the term, ‘from thin air,’ Albus,” Armando replied, giving a stern look to his wayward employee.

“So, what does Riddle have to say about this strange girl?”

“That he wishes her to go through the sorting ceremony when she gets here, and that she’s feeling rather shaken and distressed. He’s also rather concerned in her choice of what she terms friendly. Apparently, she has taken a shine to Hagrid.”

“Young Rubeus Hagrid was innocent of that girls murder, Armando,” Albus said, his tone stubborn.

“So you say, and if it wasn’t him, then who was it?”

“I have my suspicions, as to who might have killed her,” Albus sighed.

“It wasn’t Tom, Albus, sometimes I think you have something personal against that boy,” Armando said in a joking voice.

“Just don’t trust him too far,” Albus warned.

“Tom seems to feel that this girl should be under his care and protection, he is rather hoping that this strange new girl will be a Slytherin.”

“She can only be that if she has something,” Albus sighed.

“It appears that Tom has already pointed that out to us,” Armando said. “I don’t know what he means by it, Albus.”

Albus looked at Armando, and frowned. He was already secretly hoping that this strange new girl would be a Gryffindor, that young Miss McGonnagal could protect her. Albus shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the thought of young Miss McGonnagal, his feelings for her were far beyond reason. Yet, he sighed, he could not help but be entranced by her… he was, after all, the equivalent to a forty-year-old Muggle.

~*~*~

Tom Riddle bounced down the station, and he found Hermione’s carriage door. Never let it be said that Tom Riddle was not a gentleman. He could not help but feel her power, and that’s what drew him to her. He didn’t even mind the rain falling on his head. He opened the door and offered his hand, as she stepped down to the platform.

“There is a spare seat in my carriage,” he said. “I want to introduce you to my friends.”

Hermione smiled weakly, and she could not help but blush at the thought of this drool worthy young man wanting to be with her. She nodded to Minerva McGonnagal.

“It’s all right, Minerva, Riddle has offered me a seat,” Hermione said. “There’ll be room for Hagrid in yours now.”

“Now, Hermione, how can we be friends if you keep calling me ‘Riddle?’ my first name is Tom.”

“Thank you, Tom,” she whispered.

Why, after what she had admitted to him, did he want to be friends with her for? He led her to a carriage with the door wide open.

“Hurry up, Tom, we’re getting drenched,” a boy said grumpily.

“I’m here, and I’ve got a new friend,” Tom said. “Step in, and don’t worry, they promised to behave.”

Hermione stepped into the carriage and saw three faces she was not surprised to see, there was one there that she didn’t want to see, by the blonde hair and grey eyes she could tell that was Malfoy, Abraxus Malfoy. And there was obviously Crabbe and Goyle, and a man that looked so much like Severus Snape.

“Who is she?” Malfoy asked.

“Hermione Granger,” Tom said in a natural voice, there was a sharp intake of breath throughout the carriage. “Yes, I know, but there is something about her. She knows things, her eyes show an enormous amount of intelligence.”

“I am Abraxus Malfoy,” the blonde wizard confirmed Hermione’s suspicions. She could not believe she was meeting Lucius father, before even HE met him.

“I am Severus Prince,” the one that looked like Severus Snape said. Hmm, that explained it.

Hermione nodded at Severus Prince, and he nodded back. Hermione looked at Crabbe and Goyle.

“Oh, and these two abrasions are Crabbe and Goyle,” Tom said. “They are both too stupid for first names.”

Despite herself, Hermione snorted with laughter. Tom smirked. He was hoping she had a slightly dark sense of humour.

“So, what house are you in?” Malfoy asked.

“That is yet to be decided,” Tom said. Hermione sat back. For once, she was actually pleased that he was a control freak. He seemed to be able to come up with better lies and excuses than she could have. And, she frowned; she couldn’t help noticing the similarity between him, and Harry.

HARRY! She screamed inside herself. RON! What is happening to them? Had they noticed that she had disappeared?

“All right then what house do you want to be in, Granger?” Severus Prince asked.

“I don’t know, but I certainly can’t be a Slytherin, can I?” She asked.

“Stranger things have happened,” Tom whispered in her ear, and he put an arm about her shoulders. “Don’t worry I sent word ahead that you were here. Professor Armando Dippet should be informed by now that you are expected, and he’s probably already told that fool Dumbledore. Be aware of Albus Dumbledore. He doesn’t trust me, and never has.”

With good reason, Hermione silently thought.

“What is your favourite lesson?” Severus asked.

“Transfiguration, and Potions and Charms,” Hermione replied. “I also like Arithmancy, but the first three are my absolute favourites.”

“Potions is my favourite also,” Severus said. Hermione smiled. Rather ironic, she thought.

“I love it, too,” Tom said. “I am looking for a new Potions partner, Hermione, would you care to be mine?”

“What if I’m sorted into Gryffindor?” Hermione asked with a cheeky look in her eyes. Tom caught it and smirked. Merlin, doesn’t he do anything else with that mouth but smirk? Then she remembered the kiss he gave her. Yes, he does.

“Trust me, you won’t be,” Tom said. “For a – muggleborn, you certainly have Slytherin like tendencies, I can generally spot the potential a mile off!”

“And he does,” Abraxus cut in with. “I always thought my sister was a Ravenclaw, but Tom saw her briefly for a few seconds and he said, ‘if that girls not going to be in Slytherin, then I might as well be a muggle!’ and she was put in Slytherin.”

The carriage laughed, including Hermione. She looked at Tom and Tom looked at her.

“I think that you are as Slytherin as they come, Hermione, despite your blood!”

Hermione nodded meekly, hoping that he was wrong, and that would wipe the smirk of his handsome face. Tom left his arm hanging around her shoulders. All the men understood this gesture, Voldemort, had picked a new follower.

~*~*~

They entered the Great Hall, and the first years of that time were being sorted. There was a girl there, called Eileen. Severus looked proudly on at his sister. She was gazing nervously around the Great Hall.

“Sorry, Severus,” Tom hissed in his friends ear. “Your sister is not a Slytherin.”

“RAVENCLAW!” The hat shouted. Hermione looked at all the first years, and spotted some fairly familiar looking people. She saw a redheaded boy that heart achingly reminded her of Ron.

The names went through Hermione’s head. She realised she wasn’t being called up, and she furrowed her brow.

“Ah, Mr Riddle,” Hermione gasped, standing behind them was a very young looking Albus Dumbledore. He had beautiful rich auburn hair and beard, and his blue eyes sparkled beneath his half moon spectacles. “May I have a word with your friend?”

“Of course,” Tom said. He let Hermione out of his arms, and Hermione followed Professor Dumbledore.

“Sir, why haven’t I been sorted yet?”

“It wouldn’t do to have a young woman being sorted along with all the other children now would it?” He asked, as his lips curved in a mischievous smile. “And I would like to add in a word of warning regarding Mr Tom Riddle, he is not trustworthy, and I am worried. You seem like such a nice girl, Miss Granger, I’d hate for him to corrupt you.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Hermione said. “But, sir, how can you tell if you can or cannot trust someone?”

“You look into their eyes, Miss Granger, no matter how clever a liar is, he or she cannot hide it from themselves, and it shows through their eyes.”

So, she thought, that’s why you trusted Snape. She looked into Professor Dumbledore’s eyes.

“I am sure that Tom is only doing what he thinks is best,” Hermione said, hating the fact that she had to defend him. But, she knew from previous experience, it was not good to mess with the events of the past. She could give nothing away. Not even to Dumbledore.

“Hmm, well it takes a very noble person to say something like that,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Is there a problem, sir?” Tom asked testily.

“No, Mr Riddle,” Albus sighed. Hermione looked between the two of them, and there was exactly the same tension between these two as there was between Harry and Snape. Hermione bit the corner of her bottom lip. “Can you please show Miss Granger to the guest quarters?”

“I am anxious for her to be sorted, sir. Can she be sorted tonight?”

“I think what the young woman needs is a good nights rest, and a hot chocolate. I suggest that she has them both. Her sorting will be a private ceremony between the Headmaster, the Heads of Houses, and yes, Mr Riddle, the Head boy and girl. Tomorrow morning at 7 0’clock,” Albus said. “And, Mr Riddle, I suggest you leave her alone.”

“Yes, sir,” Tom said stiffly.

Hermione took Toms hand, and he led her up the stairs and he smiled at her.

“You know, Tom, I would not have minded to be sorted tonight,” Hermione sighed. “I won’t be able to rest tonight worrying.”

“I think I can ease your worry, you saw that I predicted Eileen not being a Slytherin. I think you will be, I am rarely, if ever wrong!”

The guest quarters were near the kitchens, and Hermione looked at the bed and shook her head at the quilt.

“I love the symbol on the quilts,” she said.

“I like the slogan, Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus,” Tom said. “Never Tickle A Sleeping Dragon!”

Hermione smiled, and then she looked around.

“Well,” she said, and she stretched and yawned. “I am tired, so, goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Tom said. He walked up to her, keeping his eyes on hers, it was a shame she was tired, because he certainly wasn’t. He then tilted her chin up and then placed his lips on hers, and gave her another kiss. “Dream of me.”

It sounded more of a command than a plea.

“I will,” she sighed.

He walked out of the room and let her be. He walked back to the Slytherin Common Room, and he said the password ‘Mudblood!’ and walked into the Common Room; and sat down on one of the leather sofas. He smiled to himself, a cold and very satisfied smile. Oh, she was a Slytherin all right, and if not, he would just have to up the charm.

~*~*~

Hermione awoke the next morning hoping the previous days events were just a dream, but she looked down and found herself in the Guest Apartments, and she felt very, very tired. 55 years was a long way to travel. She got up and put a small simple cleansing charm on her body.

She looked at her watch, and righted herself. She then walked out of the door.

“I wondered if you needed an escort,” Tom said from behind, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Whatever house she was to be put in, he would let the whole school know that she was his! It wasn’t about love, but possession, and he would allow no one else near her.

“I would like to have company, yes,” Hermione said.

They walked together in silence to the Headmasters office.

“Armadillo’s,” Tom said, and immediately the gargoyle sprang apart. “Armando likes words beginning with A for his passwords.”

“Ah! Mr Riddle,” Armando said in a cheery voice.

“May I present Miss Hermione Granger,” Tom said. He presented Hermione to his Headmaster. Hermione recognised the man from the painting.

“Ah, yes, such a charming new student, so I hear?”

Hermione blushed. She took Armando’s hand shyly, and he led her to the chair. She looked around at the Heads of Houses, she recognised Slughorn, though he was thinner now, than he was in her time, and she knew Albus Dumbledore would be there, but there were two that she knew neither the names or faces of.

“Professor Horace Slughorn is the Head of Slytherin, Professor Albus Dumbledore is Head of Gryffindor, Professor Venus Amoretti is Head of Ravenclaw, and Professor Harriet Potter is Head of Hufflepuff.” Harriet Potter? As in Harry’s grandmother? “They are your Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology Professors.”

“Hello Professor’s,” Hermione greeted, with respect.

“And now, the hat,” Armando said.

Professor Dippet reached up to the top shelf and brought out the sorting hat.

“Hmm, I think I’ve seen this mind before. Courage, bravery, a sharp mind, and a love of learning, and a thirst to prove yourself dominate your personality. There is also a cunning streak in this one, difficult, very difficult, you’re a credit to education, if I was in a better world I would place you in Slytherin, but as it is…”

I don’t mind. Hermione thought, I really don’t mind Slytherin.

“Are you sure, you have not got the right source to be placed in Slytherin. I must say that you are a Slytherin, though, ambition is right there in the centre of your brain, Slytherin? Are you sure? You’ll be the only one of your kind in there.”

There is someone in Slytherin that has taken care of that, Hermione thought.

“Well, if you’re sure?”

Certain.

“SLYTHERIN!” The hat shouted in the room.

Tom smiled smugly to himself; he knew he could charm ANYONE enough to do what they were supposed to do. So what if she was a Mudblood? She had potential. Albus Dumbledore frowned. He turned to look at Tom Riddle, and Tom gave him an innocent look back.

Hermione breathed silently and got up off the chair.

“Well,” Slughorn said. “Welcome to the family.”

“That’s all right, Professor Slughorn.”

“Well, Hermione,” Minerva McGonnagal said crisply, Hermione sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Minerva!” Hermione exclaimed, but she had stormed out of the room.

“Oh, she’ll get over it,” Tom said lazily.

Hermione thought not, she knew Minerva McGonnagal. She was also not entirely blind, and she saw Albus Dumbledore looking at her as if, no, well, as if he was in love with her!

Hermione thought that this should disgust her, but it didn’t. Perhaps she was a Slytherin after all.

A/N Hey, I told you I love Hermione with a Slytherin! Now I've put her in Slytherin!