A/N: Thanks everyone, for your wonderful feedback on my last chapter. I'm sorry I took a bit longer for this one but I wanted it to be perfect!
Hermione Granger held a stack of books under her arm as she stepped up the long ladder that led to the top bookshelves in the castle library.
"This one goes here," she muttered to herself. Putting books back was methodical for Hermione; she knew the places of each novel by heart so she allowed her mind to wander in the meantime.
Her life had changed tremendously after the death of her parents. She still looked quite the same, except she was taller of course, and her body had matured to be quite curvaceous, although she wished she were more willowy like Ron's sister Ginny, who lived in the village with the rest of the family. Her hair had retained it's bushiness but she tamed it into long curls each morning. Hermione spent most of her time with either Ron or Lily, who had become like another mother to her.
Yet it was Harry she missed the most. Her green eyed, black haired best friend was never far from her thoughts, although she never really talked about him to anyone, even Ron.
Placing the last book on the shelf, Hermione sighed and rested her head on the heavy tomes. "How can I be in love with someone I haven't seen in such a long time?" Her fingers tapped on the dusty shelf. "Since I'm not betrothed to him anymore I shouldn't hang on to what might have happened." She pictured him in her head, coming back to the castle and taking his throne back, kicking Tom Riddle out of Diagon Alley.
After that, he'd sweep her up in his arms and kiss her senseless before taking her into what would be their bedchambers, where he'd gently peel her clothing from her body, kissing each spot as he bared it to the air.
Hermione would arch her back at that point as Harry would shed his clothing as well, and then slip back into bed beside her as his hands-
Hermione got down the ladder and went for the table to retrieve another armload of books. "I've been reading far too many romance novels," she said with a sigh.
*** *** ***
Tom Riddle was pacing. Whenever Tom Riddle was pacing, it meant he was thinking. And when Tom Riddle was thinking, it meant something was annoying him.
He didn't care about the people in the village. He let Lucius, Bellatrix, Anton and the rest of the Death Eaters take it over for the most part, only going down there when he had to.
Tom also didn't care about the people residing in the castle. It was true that most people still considered Lily their queen, even though he took every opportunity to shoot down that comment.
But they all still took nearly every opportunity they could to mock him, to disobey him. Loathe as he was to admit it, he needed the villagers to like him to keep his position of power. And for that he needed…
Tom Riddle needed something, and it frustrated him that he couldn't think of what. Deciding that a trip down into Knockturn Alley would help him, he left the castle in a sweep of black robes.
Rather content as a recently fed Hungarian Horntail dragon, he strolled down the pavement with unusual ease. Tom watched as several shopkeepers eyed him uneasily and he sneered back, loving how they scurried into their stores.
Hermione Granger bid the owner of the village bookstore goodbye as she stepped back outside with her armload of novels. She had noticed several tomes missing from their collection, probably from that sneak Pettigrew stealing them out, so she'd gone into the village to replenish them.
Usually Ron accompanied her, but he was already down there, visiting his girlfriend Luna, who worked in the Leaky Cauldron. He hated letting her go anywhere alone, as Tom Riddle was usually lurking in some corner nearby, but she often begged off for a few moments on her own.
"Ugh, speak of the devil," Hermione muttered as she caught sight of the current king strolling down Diagon Alley as if he had not a care in the world. Hermione hated him with every bone in her body for what he had done to them all.
A startled cry jerked her out of her thoughts; a small boy, whom Hermione recognised immediately as Jeffrey Downs, the son of the Weasley's next door neighbour had fallen into a mud puddle and his sack of groceries spilled across the road. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Tom Riddle smirking as he stepped away, and Hermione realised he had pushed the child.
"Ruddy sodding bastard," she muttered as she put her stack of books down and rushed to help Jeffrey up. The six year old was rubbing tears out of his eyes as she approached. "Are you all right love?" she asked, brushing off his clothes.
"Yes, thank you." Jeffrey was proper as he got back up. He saw the groceries scattered and Hermione held up a hand before he could start wailing.
"Let's go get you a new bag," she said, fingering her pocket that contained her money. "My treat all right?"
"Thank you Hermione," the young boy looked up at her, eyes shining in gratitude. Hermione smiled back as they went back to the grocer, and minutes later Jeffrey was walking away, waving back at his saviour.
Tom Riddle watched the whole display as Hermione chatted easily with several other people standing there. It was obvious that like Lily, Hermione was well respected with the villagers.
It was then that a particular idea occurred to him, one that made his blood curdle and a sinister smile appear on his face.
He would take on a wife.
And he knew exactly who he wanted to fill that position.
Tom watched Hermione bid goodbye to the shopkeepers and start to walk back to the castle, balancing her armload of books. She would nod and greet almost everyone she passed and Tom realised he had made a good choice.
Yes, she would be perfect. His eyes roamed over her body, which curved nicely under her robes and dress she wore. She kept her hair pinned up tightly, not letting the curls stray down her back.
Tom strode, his steps large in effort to catch up with Hermione. He knew he would have to be charming to get her to agree to this, and if that failed he would simply order her to marry him.
"Lovely day, yes?" the voice made ice water trickle down Hermione's spine as she turned to face the person she detested most.
"I suppose so," her voice was cool.
"Buying new books?" Tom tried to keep his friendly tone even as his lip threatened to curl back.
"As you can see, yes." Hermione eyed him strangely. "Good day," she tried to brush past him but he blocked her way.
"I wonder if I might request an audience with you," Tom said, making her eyes widen in surprise.
"I beg your pardon?" Hermione thought she was hearing wrong. Tom Riddle actually asking her something and not ordering?
"The drawing room, in say, a quarter of an hour?" he turned and walked away before Hermione could refuse.
Knowing he'd find another way to make her life even more miserable if she decided not to show, Hermione grudgingly put her new novels on the table in the library and headed for the drawing room.
Tom Riddle was already pacing back and forth inside, his black robes billowing out behind him. "Thank you for coming," he bit the inside of his cheek as he saw the younger woman approach.
"You wanted to see me, milord," she bowed her head respectfully as she had been taught when greeting her superiors, even if she didn't consider him the true king.
"I believe you know what people think of me," Tom saw no reason to beat around the bush.
"Yes I do," Hermione cast her eyes down so he wouldn't see them brimming with hatred.
"I have decided to amend my ways," Tom said, covering his smirk.
Hermione folded her arms over her chest but did not respond. She had no interest in anything Tom Riddle had to say or do.
"Aren't you curious how?" Tom turned around with a slimy grin on his face. "Especially since it concerns you?"
"How do your plans concern me?" Hermione asked coolly.
Tom smiled even wider. "It all concerns you, my dear. You are the one person who can make things happen."
Hermione shuddered as he touched her shoulder. "I can't even begin to think how I could help you."
"I suppose you have noticed how none of the villagers seem to be very fond of me?" Tom replied.
"How can anyone not notice that?" Hermione answered, her tone growing colder.
Tom's upper lip curled involuntarily and she didn't miss it. "You are entirely too sassy for your own good." He said, his temper running short.
Hermione glared back at him, unafraid. "What did you bring me in here for, exactly? Not just for conversation purposes obviously."
Tom spun around and stopped directly in front of her. "You're going to marry me."
Hermione felt her jaw drop down. He wanted to marry her? He watched her, his eyes narrowed as she struggled to regain her composure. "I am sorry," she said stiffly. "I am already betrothed to another. I'm afraid I cannot accept your proposal." The last word was said mockingly.
Tom almost growled at her refusal. "Perhaps you don't understand me, girl. That was not a question."
"You can't order me to be your wife!" Hermione argued.
"I'm the king. I can do whatever I want." Tom hissed.
"I will not do it." Hermione said, her eyes cold.
"You will," Tom replied angrily. "You will do it tomorrow NIGHT!" he finished with a shout. Spinning on his heel, he turned and left the room, and Hermione sat down, visibly shaking.
"He wants to marry me," Hermione felt tears form in her eyes. "Oh Merlin…" she got up and ran out of the room, blindly rushing down the corridors, hoping that Ron would be back from Diagon Alley.
"Ron!" the red-haired young man was startled at the panicked voice of his best friend. Hermione came dashing into his bedroom and threw herself at him, sobbing.
"What's wrong?" Ron was concerned. Ever since her parents had been killed in front of them, he'd felt overly protective of her. Their friendship was as tight as could be, and he loved her like a sister.
"Oh Ron it's awful and I don't know what to do!" Hermione raised her face. "Tom Riddle told me that I have to marry him tomorrow night!"
"WHAT?" Ron shouted.
"What am I going to do?" Hermione asked desperately.
"Um…" Ron was upset as well. He sat down on the edge of his bed, pulling her down next to him. "All right, let's calm down here. Tell me everything that happened."
Hermione choked out the story, clutching onto several tissues as she wiped her eyes. "And after he told me that we were going to be married tomorrow night he left, and I just ran here."
Ron hugged her, kissing the top of her head. "We'll get you out of this Hermione. We'll stay awake all night if we have to."
"Okay," Hermione sniffed. The pair sat in silence, Ron repeatedly raking his hands through his ginger coloured hair.
"Maybe we could disguise you," Ron spoke up. "Maybe give you some polyjuice?"
"It only lasts for an hour and takes a month to make," Hermione said methodically and dully.
"Oh, right." Ron sighed. "Maybe…" he paused.
"What?" Hermione was hopeful.
Ron sighed again. "I don't like this idea but it might be the only one we've got."
"What is it?" Hermione asked uneasily.
"You leave," Ron said. "Leave the castle and Diagon Alley and just get as far away as you can."
"Leave?" The idea almost sounded more fearful than marrying Tom Riddle. Diagon Alley and this palace were the only homes she knew.
"Yeah," Ron replied. "I don't want you to go, but I don't think there's any other way to get you out of this."
Hermione sniffed again and blew her nose. "I think you're right."
"If you have to go then," Ron began unenthusiastically. "I think you should go tonight… and don't tell anyone. That's why when you're gone; no one will have to take the blame."
"Except you," Hermione said sorrowfully. She didn't want to leave Lily or Molly behind.
"And I'll never tell a soul." Ron promised. "Go pack up your things and I'll help you get out later tonight once everyone's asleep."
Hermione nodded. "All right," she said softly.
"I'll come to your rooms in a few minutes to make sure that bastard doesn't try anything." Ron said darkly.
"Okay," Hermione left the room, her head bowed. Upon arriving in her bedroom she packed a small bag with the few things she'd need, as well as a photo of her parents that she'd collected from their suites when they died. She pressed her lips briefly to the frame before stuffing it between two sets of clothes.
"Are you all set?" Ron asked, coming up behind her.
Hermione jumped. "Oh it's just you," she said in relief. "Yes, I'm packed." She shoved the bag underneath her bed.
"Well here's the plan. We go through dinner like normal, then to bed, and around eleven thirty I'll come get you. My brothers Fred and George are going to help us sneak past the castle gates and once we get in Diagon Alley you start running."
Hermione nodded. "All right," her voice was so soft Ron almost couldn't hear her. Moving forward he hugged her tightly again.
The rest of the night passed by in a haze for the two of them- Tom Riddle broke the news of their 'engagement' that night, leaving Lily and Molly in an uproar as he swept away from the table. Lily tried to get Hermione to contest what was going on but Hermione remained tight lipped, saying she had her own plans instead.
After that they had all gone their separate ways, Hermione and Ron sharing a look to say that their plot was still on.
She was lying in her bed, her eyes trained firmly on a spot in her ceiling. Sleep would not come to her at all, for she was afraid to wake up and see Tom Riddle lying next to her on the bed.
Ron knocked softly on her door at eleven thirty sharp, and Hermione shot off the bed, grabbing her bag as she flew to the door.
"I'm really scared," Hermione whispered as they crept to the main hall.
"I know," Ron replied. "I wish I could go with you."
"Me too," Hermione replied. "How are your brothers helping us sneak out?"
"They know about every passage out of the castle." Ron peered around a corner. "They've got one that takes us right on the outskirts of town."
"All right," Hermione nodded nervously. They arrived in the main hall in silence and waited in the shadows until two tall redheads came up behind them.
"Ready?" One of them asked, Hermione thought it was George. He had three less freckles than Fred, which wouldn't normally be noticeable except they were identical in every other way.
"Yes," Ron answered, taking her hand. The four of them slunk out, following Fred and George down many different corridors until they reached a statue that Hermione had always hated.
"Dissendium," George said and to Hermione's great surprise, the statue moved aside and a passage was revealed.
The four of them went down the passageway, using their wands to light up the darkness in front of them. It was damp and cold, and Hermione couldn't stop shivering until they reached the end and she was breathing in the fresh air.
"Well," Ron looked at his two brothers who nodded and moved away. "I'm going to miss you," he said to his best friend. "Here, I nicked you a bit of food from the kitchens so you won't starve."
"I'm going to miss you too," Hermione hugged him as tight as she could, taking the bag he held out. "Listen… after the fuss has died down about me disappearing, please, please tell your mum and Lily about this. I can't leave and have them not knowing what happened to me."
"Okay," Ron said. He kissed her cheek before pulling back. "Take care of yourself," his voice had gone strangely hoarse.
"I will. You too." Hermione said in the same tone. With one last look at her best friend, she disappeared into the night.
*** *** ***
Hermione sometimes walked, sometimes ran, trying to put as much distance between her and Diagon Alley as possible. The road was uneven and she stumbled over bumps and rocks as the moon was hidden behind clouds.
And it only made her journey worse when the skies opened and Hermione was drenched by a downpour. She made her way over to a tree and hid beneath it, but the bare branches were almost no protection.
Hermione fell asleep, huddled up in a bundle in the roots, and woke up with a horrible crick in her neck and the sun beating down on her. Groaning, she got up and stretched, then followed the sound of a stream until she found clear water to wash herself up with.
"Well by now he must know I'm gone," Hermione said aloud. She sincerely hoped that Ron would feign innocence so he wouldn't be blamed. She also hoped Tom Riddle wasn't taking his temper out on Lily or Molly. "It's too late to turn back," she said sternly when her mind tried to persuade her into returning to Diagon Alley.
Resuming her path on the road, she walked the rest of the day and into the late afternoon, stopping to snack on the cheese and bread Ron had put in the bag for her. In the early evening, Hermione came upon a small town called Hogsmeade.
It looked like a rather nice small town, and Hermione found a nice leafy tree to sit under to catch her breath. She unpinned her hair, shaking the long curls out. They were still damp from the rain the previous night and they settled nicely together instead of growing bushy like her hair normally did.
Sirius Black hummed to himself as he walked down the street, holding his sack of groceries on his arm. Harry had offered to make dinner for them again this evening and he was not above taking his godson up on his offer. Harry had turned out to be a better cook than Sirius himself.
He was about to take the turn that would lead him back to the shack where he lived with Harry and Remus when he saw a pretty girl sit down, her back pressed up against a tree trunk. She was undoing her knot of hair which was a chestnut brown colour, and then she sat back and closed her eyes.
She would make the perfect girl for Harry, Sirius decided right then and there. He had to get her back to the house somehow.
"Excuse me," a voice startled Hermione out of her doze and she opened her eyes to see a handsome black haired man standing in front of her. "Are you all right miss?"
"Oh I'm fine, thank you." Hermione replied. "Just taking a small kip under the tree here before I leave."
"I see," Sirius replied. "I say, I just live a bit up the road if you'd like to come in for a bite to eat."
"I appreciate that but I couldn't impose," Hermione sat up straighter. There was something strangely familiar about this man. It seemed she had known him before but she couldn't place him.
"No, please I insist." Sirius held out a hand to help her up. "Besides, you're in for a real treat. My godson happens to be a wonderful cook and he's making supper this evening."
"All right," Hermione smiled. "Thank you very much." She was surprised at her own actions. Normally she'd never go to a stranger's house, no matter how charming they were. 'I'm on my own now, I can make these decisions.' She thought.
She followed the man up the road, her eyes taking in the smallish shack. "It's just the three of us," the man explained, opening the door and ushering her in. "Hello!" he called.
"I'm in here!" another male voice called back. Hermione went behind the man into a cheery looking kitchen. She saw another man sitting at the table and the sound of chopping wood came through the window.
"Hello Remus. We have a guest for dinner tonight." Sirius gave Remus a look which the other man interpreted as a don't-scare-her-off-she's-for-Harry look.
"Pleased to meet you," Remus stood up to shake the young woman's hand. "My name is Remus."
"Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself before," Hermione replied properly. "I'm Hermione Granger."
Sirius spun around at that instant and shared a different look with Remus. "Hermione… what an interesting name," he finally said.
"Thank you," she sat down. "My parents named me after Hermione in A Winter's Tale by Shakespeare."
"Where did you come from?" Sirius asked, his tone pleasant, much like it had been when Harry had come to them 10 years ago.
"Oh," Hermione looked down at her dirty hands. "Um… do you mind if I clean myself up a bit? I'm sure I must look a fright."
"Of course," Remus replied. "Second door on the right." Hermione thanked him and left the room.
"Is that who I think it is?" Sirius asked immediately.
"It might be," Remus said cautiously.
Sirius grinned. "I found Harry a GIRL FRIEND!" he sang loudly.
"Shut UP Padfoot!" Remus snapped. "You want to scare her away?"
"Of course not," Sirius said. "But I do have a plan…"
Harry swung the axe down onto a log of wood, splitting it neatly in two. He could have done this chore by magic but he liked the exercise.
His thoughts wandered as he continued to chop. As he had gone to work that day he had noticed a grey haired man with a knee length beard following him. And as he had run some errands for Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the Three Broomsticks, the man had followed him to the market and back.
And the same man had been waiting near the door when Harry had left. He had grabbed Harry's arm, his blue eyes piercing into Harry's green ones. "The time has come for you to face what you have left," the old man said prophetically, before turning and disappearing into the crowd.
"What the hell did that mean," Harry muttered to himself, setting the axe against the log for a moment as he wiped his brow. The days were becoming warmer, in a few months he'd turn eighteen. If he'd stayed back in Diagon Alley, he'd be getting crowned king.
"No use in thinking of that," Harry hoisted the axe again.
"Um… excuse me?" a female voice interrupted his thoughts. "Your godfather wanted me to bring you a glass of water?"
Harry turned around, ready to run back to the house and strangle Sirius for trying to fix him up again when the sight in front of him made his eyes grow wide.
Hermione's jaw dropped and the glass slipped from her fingers to shatter on the stone path. "Harry?" her voice shook slightly.
"Hermione?" his voice sounded as equally unsure. The next thing Harry knew, he was flat on his back in the flowerbed, engulfed in an enormous hug that was taking his breath away.
"Harry!" Hermione pushed herself up and stared down at him. "I knew it! You're alive! I always knew you were alive and I found you!" She pulled him up and hugged him again. "What have you been doing here all this time? Who are those men inside the house? Oh Harry, I've missed you so much!" Sudden tears sprang into Hermione's eyes and she began to cry.
Harry said nothing at first but held her close, stroking her long hair. "I've missed you too," he said softly.
"Oh Harry," Hermione looked at him, cupping his face between her hands. "You look exactly like James. You're so handsome." A slight blush stained her cheeks.
He turned red. "Thanks," he muttered. "You look great too," his thumb rubbed away some tearstains. "Just like I pictured you would."
Hermione smiled up at him and they hugged again.
Sirius turned away from the window where he had watched with satisfaction. "Am I good or am I good?" he asked Remus.
Remus gave him a grunt which only made Sirius grin even wider. "I'm that good."
*** *** ***
"Harry, you're a wonderful cook," Hermione said as she finished the curry dinner Harry had made them.
"Thanks," Harry turned red with her praise. Remus and Sirius had each grabbed a plate and begged off early for bed, but Harry knew what they were trying to do. "I've had lots of practise."
"It's certainly paid off," Hermione barely took her eyes off him as he moved around and started to clean up. "Can I help you with anything?"
"No, I've got it." Harry replied. They sat in silence as he finished the dishes. "Would you uh… would you like to go for a walk or something?" he asked, feeling a bit shy. He finally had Hermione in front of him, something he'd been wanting for ten years, and he had no idea what to say.
"I'd love to," Hermione answered, equally shy. Harry smiled and offered her his hand, weaving their fingers together as they walked outside.
It was a warm night, with only a few clouds blocking the moon. Harry and Hermione walked back by the woods quietly, stealing glances at one another.
"Where do we even start?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know," Harry said with a shaky laugh. He ran his free hand through his hair, not wanting to let go of her fingers.
"How about the day you… left." Hermione replied.
"What about it?" Harry asked, his eyes growing dark. "My father died, I have no place there anymore."
"That's not true Harry," Hermione said. "Your mother… she misses you so much. If she knew you were alive…"
"She doesn't have to know. No one does. You can just stay here like me." Harry replied.
"This isn't your home, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Yes it is!" Harry snapped. He let go of her hand, running his fingers through his hair again. "You have no idea what my life has been like since that day!"
"I would if you'd tell me!" Hermione shouted, suddenly angry.
"Well maybe I don't feel like telling everyone what my life has been like!" Harry shouted back. "It's none of anyone else's business!"
"I lived there too you know! And you weren't the only one affected by everything that happened!" Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes at his coldness.
Harry suddenly noticed how close they were, they had been stepping closer to one another as their shouting match continued. He could see a tiny smattering of pale freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her large brown eyes, eyes he had dreamed of for so long, were brimming with tears.
'I'm making her cry. All I wanted for so long was to have her here, and now I'm making her cry.' He thought, feeling ashamed.
Hermione looked down, not wanting him to see her tears start to slide down. After all, he was the cause of them. She was startled at his fingers gently curving under her chin, bringing her face back up. Their eyes met and held, lips coming closer and closer together.
Harry's mouth brushed hesitantly over hers at first, then immediately growing more passionate. Her arms wound themselves around his neck and he pulled her as close as he could.
A/N: I know, I know… I'm trying not to leave off cliffies but just think, next chapter starts with a snog! How great right?
Anyways, if you've taken the time to read this, please take a few more seconds and review me with your opinion on the chapter. I appreciate all kinds of feedback except for flames!