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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
They said he never loved. But is it really the case? What if the circumstances were different? How would fate play its role in bringing two souls together? Is the power of love so great after all? A Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger story which gradually develops into a Voldemort/Hermione Granger story! A story including time travel, with a wonderful twist and beautiful ending! Read and find out more!

Submitted: December 24, 2014

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Submitted: December 24, 2014




December 31, 1926, Wools Orphanage

“That’s it, dearest. Push harder. Everything will be just fine.”

The young woman was weak, the midwife could tell from her pale features and her limp body. Her breathing became shallow, and at intervals, she clutched her bulging belly and moaned. The midwife knew that this was not a good sign. The young woman had lost a lot of blood already. For the past hour, she had been struggling to deliver her child, with the aid of the midwife.

The door to the room was pushed open gently by an old woman with motherly features.

“How is she, Sarah?” the old woman asked, peering at the young woman in concern. The sheets were all stained by now, and the midwife continued to sooth the young woman.

“She would not make it, I’m afraid,” the midwife mouthed, as a sad look crossed her features. The older woman, who was the matron of the place nodded knowingly.

“There, dear. Just relax. That’s it. There, just a few more minutes to go, and you’ll be fine,” the midwife said gently, pressing another hot bottle against the young woman’s stomach.

The young woman let out a shuddering breath, and pushed as hard as she could. And, it was finally done.

The child was born. For some strange reason, he never cries, nor wails, as the midwife held him up and inspected him.

“Here,” the midwife said, brushing some bloodstains away from the child’s body. “Congratulations, dear. You made it through. Would you like to hold your baby? It’s a boy, by the way.”

The older woman stepped closer and peered down at the child.

“There, you’ve got a beautiful little boy,” she said, squeezing the young woman’s hands.

The young woman peered down at the child in the midwife’s arms, and managed a thin smile. Her face had turned a few shades paler now. Her breathing became ragged and shallow.

The midwife met the old woman’s gaze, and both of them shook their heads sadly.

The young woman beckoned both the occupants in the room to her side a few seconds later. Her eyelids fluttered tiredly, and she was getting weaker and weaker.

“Tom…Marvolo…Riddle…” she mouthed silently.

“We understand, dear. You may rest now,” the midwife said.

The young woman gave both of them another thin smile, before her breathing slowly faded and her eyelids fluttered shut.


September 19, 1927

In an ordinary Muggle hospital in London, Harold and Mariana Granger smiled happily, as the midwife held out their child; a beautiful baby girl. She had Honey brown hair hazel brown eyes, just like her mother, high cheekbones and just the perfect nose like her father.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Granger,” the midwife smiled down at them.

“Welcome to the world, baby Hermione,” Mariana Granger said, and smiled down at the child, who was now staring at them with inquisitive eyes.


On the night Tom Marvolo Riddle was born, Sybil Trilawney graduated from Hogwarts. The Ravenclaw Head Girl badge glittered beautifully on her chest, as she went up front to receive her scroll from Headmaster Dippet. Her bangles and necklaces, which she had inherited from her grandmother, Casandra Clearwater, clanged noisily as she walked.

“Congratulations for making it through the last year, Sybil!” Headmaster Dippet took her hand, and presented the scroll to her.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Sybil whispered.

As she made her way back to the Ravenclaw table, she felt queer suddenly. Her vision was swimming in front of her, and she was feeling nauseous. Was this a sign, she wondered. She had always been obsessed with the art of devination, and knew the signs well. At her age, Sybil had not yet made a single predicament yet, although she secretly hoped to do so. Her grandmother had made her first predicament at the age of fifteen, and Sybil was always intrigued with the old lady’s ability.

Sybil’s head began to pound painfully, and she pressed her temples as she continued her way to the Ravenclaw table.

Suddenly, without warning, her legs gave way, and her knees buckled. She could feel someone holding her just as she hit the stone floor before her eyes rolled back.

The Great Hall was silent, as Albus Dumbledore ushered the Head Girl into a chair. Students began to whisper franticly amongst themselves. Suddenly, their chatter ceased as the Head Girl cleared her throat. All the students and staff looked at her in shock.

In a raised voice, Sybil Trelawney made her first prophecy, without knowing it.

He will return tonight,
A new heir,
A second legacy
And evil is born
In the midst of it all.

Enemies of the heir, beware!

In the darkest moments
Another is born
To be the chosen one
To save the world.

What must be done, must be done
Kill time, injure eternity
And all will be well.

In the darkest moments
A power you know not
The power of love it is called
And the power would be key
In determining the turning point.”

Albus Dumbledore blinked, polished his hall-moon spectacles thoughtfully, and made his way out of the Great Hall. The others stared at him curiously. The old professor rushed back to his office, recorded the prophecy in a piece of parchment, and sealed it. He then places it into his desk. He would figure it out later, in the years to come, he decided.


September 1, 1934

Hermione Granger ran into the girl’s bathroom at her primary school, and slammed the door. They had called her names, they always have. She sobbed miserably and blew her nose.

She had been bullied at her school, ever since her horrid Aunt Rita sent her here. Her parents were killed in a car crash two years ago, and her Aunt Rita had grudgingly agreed to take care of her.

Hermione had always being laughed at by other students, for her bushy hair and her large front tooth. The fact that she is the smartest girl in the school also caused jealousy amongst the other students.

No one liked her bossy and know-it-all attitude, except her teachers. All the other children would often bully her, and play pranks on her. Hermione was sick and tired of this.

She stayed in the girl’s bathroom until the final bell rang. She had no mood to study anymore. She just wanted to go home now.

After clearing away the tear stains on her face, she blew her nose noisily on her handkerchief, and went back to the classroom to collect her things before leaving.


Tom Marvolo Riddle hated his life. He hated the whole orphanage. The people there were just a bunch of brainless gits who were not worth his time.

He brushed past some kids quickly, and went to sit under his favourite tree in the park opposite the orphanage. As always, the others made way for him. They were scared of him, after what happened to Amy Benson and her brother at the seaside last year. Mrs. Cole had always called him a freak since then.

Tom was proud about this, although he never told anyone about it. He enjoyed the power and control he had over others. He could make things move and animals obey to his command, without even touching them. He could even talk to snakes. Although he finds all of his talents out of the ordinary, he never gave a thought about it.

Tom reached the park, and sat down on the soft grass. He opened his latest classic, Bleakhouse by Charles Dickens, and started to read. He loves to read; he loved everything about books, from their covers, to the smell of ink on the printed pages, to the beautiful pictures [if any] in them. For him, knowledge was power, and the more he learn, the more knowledgeable, learned and powerful he will become.

His gaze traveled across the park to the neat row of terrace houses opposite. Occasionally, other children from those houses would come out to play, but they ignored Tom completely. He was glad about this.

As the nearest church clock struck five, Tom looked up from his book. Where is she, he wondered. For the past few months, a particular girl had caught his attention.

She was not a beautiful one; her hair was thick, brown and bushy, and her front teeth were too large for her appearance. Other children tend to laugh at the girl. She remained silent most of the time, letting the others bully her. Then, when the others had enough and ran off to play, she would hid in a bush and cry her eyes out. He felt a tinge of sympathy towards her when he heard her sobs.

Tom peered across the field anxiously when the girl still did not turn out at six, when the clock strikes again. The other children had arrived, and were now playing noisily. They did not give the slightest bit of reaction when they did not see their favourite target.

Suddenly, Tom heard screaming, and running footsteps. He looked up, and was shocked by what he saw. The other children were still playing, and were oblivious to what was happening.

From opposite the house, he saw her; her tiny legs kicking violently at a nasty-looking woman who was holding her collar. The nasty-looking woman was shrieking madly, as she hurled a pot of boiling water at the girl. The girl managed to break free and ran towards the playground. The woman was still in her pursuit.

Tom felt angry suddenly. How could the woman be so cruel? Sloshes of hot water trickled down the girls soaked blouse, as she continued to run. He could tell that she had been severely beaten as well, judging by her swollen lips, bruised hands and blood oozing out of one of her shoulder blades.

“Slip,” Tom thought, focusing his gaze on the nasty-looking woman. He hoped that his special skills will work out now. He had a sudden urge to protect the girl, which he himself could not explain. He could not understand why he cared about her. After all, she was just another ordinary girl. He had felt something tugging at him when he first saw her a few months ago, and he still cannot decide what it was that had prompted him to have a soft spot for her.

He would often present her with secret gifts, when she was crying her eyes out in the bushes. He would pluck a single flower or some twigs, and concentrate as hard as he could on them. His special skills, which he used to call them would kick into action then. The flowers would glow beautifully, while the twigs would made themselves into beautiful bracelets, which glowed beautifully when the last rays of sunset touched them. He would secretly place them in front of the girl, when she was sobbing into her hands. She always seemed to be startled when she heard a slight rustling. She will open her beautiful hazel eyes then, and her face will lit up in a sweet smile, which he immediate took a liking to. He will be gone by then, when she gazed about her, trying to identify who had gave her the flowers and bracelets. But Tom never showed himself. He could not explain why. He felt shy and vulnerable sometimes in front of her.

Tom was jolted out of his musings when he heard a loud clang, and an ear-splitting wail. He looked up just in time to see the nasty-looking woman tripping and falling facedown on the floor. The pot of hot water sloshed onto her body, and she was screaming loudly.

Tom smiled in satisfaction. He shifted his gaze to the bushes. And sure enough, the girl lay there, trembling and crying.

Quickly, he got to his feet, and knelt beside her. He took her small hands, which were icy cold and squeezed them gently. The girl looked up at him. A suspicious look crossed her face.

“Hush,” he said gently. “Everything will be okay.”

She looked at him for a moment, then squeezed his hand gently before dropping it. She sighed, rolled over, and closed her eyes.

Tom watched her as she drifted in and out of consciousness. He tried to summon his special skills to heal her, but was unable to do so. So, he stayed beside her for the evening, running back to the orphanage to bring some food and water for both of them.

The other children had rushed back to their homes, after witnessing what happened to the nasty woman. The nasty woman had been taken to a clinic, Tom gathered. She had probably broken a few bones, as she clutched her sides when somebody came to her aid a few minutes after her fall.

The girl regained full consciousness after midnight. Tom pulled his thin blanket over her shoulders, and stayed close to keep her warm.

The girl looked up at him, and blinked. Tom gave her some water, which she gulped down quickly.

Then, she smiled. And Tom thought that it was her most beautiful and sincere smile that he had seen thus far.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

“By the way, I’m Hermione. Hermione Granger.”

“Tom Riddle,” he replied, holding out his hand. She took it, and gave it a firm shake.

And that was how their bond begins.


Over the next few months, Hermione and Tom had become rather close to each other. Tom treated Hermione as though she was his sister, and Hermione treated Tom as though he was her brother. They talked and played together. As both of them shared the same interest, they clicked on easily. On long afternoons, they would sat under Tom’s favourite tree in the park, and have endless debates about a certain topic. At the end of the day, they would both laugh happily together and walk hand in hand back to Wools Orphanage.

Hermione no longer lived with her Aunt Rita, as the older woman had vowed not to set eyes on her again after her fall. Hermione was quite happy about this, and went to live in Wools Orphanage with Tom. They shared the same room, as Tom’s room was the only available room in the orphanage. Mrs. Cole had refused to let Hermione stay at first, but Tom had used his “special skills” in persuading her to do so.

The other children no longer bully Hermione since she became friends with Tom. They would stay out of their way, as Tom had made some bad things happened to those who tried to bully Hermione. Hermione was both impressed and scared when Tom told her about his special skills. Nevertheless, she knew deep down that Tom did this just to protect her, and she was grateful for this.

Hermione and Tom’s bond increased when Hermione started to have special talents herself. One day, when both of them were playing in the park, Hermione had picked a flower, and played with it thoughtfully. Tom was reading another of Dickens; classic, and smiled when he saw what Hermione was doing.

“I wish they would glitter beautifully when the sunlight reflected on them,” Hermione said, picking more flowers. “You know, my secret angel stopped giving me those beautiful flowers since we met. I wonder why.”

Tom’s mouth curved upwards in a smirk. Of course he never told Hermione that he was indeed her secret angel. He planned to keep this from her.

“Oh?” he asked, putting an arm around her and giving her shoulders a light squeeze.

“Hmmm,” Hermione said thoughtfully, still looking down at the flowers she had gathered on her palm.

And then, it happens. It was so quick, that Tom was not prepared for it. Hermione gasped, and blinked. Tom quickly looked up when he heard it. He could not believe his eyes.

There, still neatly gathered in Hermione’s palms, were the flowers, but they had begun to glow, just as how she had wished for it.

“Tom!” Hermione exclaimed.

Tom blinked and then smiled. It looks that Hermione and him are really meant to be together, as friends. Both of them now possessed the same talents.

“Congratulations, Hermione,” he said, giving her a hug. She kissed him lightly on the forehead, and held out the flowers towards him.

“There! Take these! It would be my first gift to you, dear brother,” she said, planting another kiss on his forehead.

From that day onwards, Hermione slowly developed her special talents. Both of them were quite alike now, save Hermione could not talk to snakes yet. Tom assured her that she would muster the skill later, and Hermione cheered up after hearing this.


Tom and Hermione’s life changed completely the day Albus Dumbledore arrived at Wools Orphanage, and gave them their letters. Both of them were excited.

A few years had passed peacefully. Tom and Hermione both attended Hogwarts. Tom had been sorted into Slytherin, whereas Hermione was sorted into Ravenclaw. Nevertheless, both of them still maintained their bond. They have no trouble in coping with the lessons, as both of them were still the brightest students in their class. They see a lot of each other, as the Ravenclaws and Slytherins had most of their classes together.

However, unlike Tom, Hermione had managed to get along with other members of her house and a few students from different houses. Tom preferred to keep to himself, and only talk to Hermione alone. The other students never bother to talk to him. All the Slytherins were mostly arrogant purebloods who ignored him and laughed him when he ever suffered a mishap.

As the years passed, Tom felt that the distance between Hermione and him was increasingly. Their bond was no longer as strong as it was earlier. Both of them tend to have arguments and different opinions on matters, especially on the dark arts. Tom preferred to delve into dark magic, as he found comfort in them, whereas Hermione tend to shy away from the subject. They seldom talked to each other as the days passed, as Hermione had her own group of friends, who were stupid, giggling girls in Tom’s opinion.

Thus, Tom became possessive. He would follow Hermione everywhere she went, and mocked her when he found that she was in conversation with other boys. Hermione had taken to ignore him, and he was angry about this. Often, whenever they met, Hermione would advise him to be a good person, and stay away from dark stuff.

“It only makes you evil, Tom. Please, I had a bad feeling about this. You’ve change so much. You’re no longer the Tom I knew back at the orphanage.”

He often brushed her comments off and got angry when she wished to pursue the subject further.

Hermione would always walk away with a sad expression on her face. At one time, Tom had almost cursed her out of rage. He managed to control his temper before the unforgivable curse rolled off his tongue. Hermione, it seems, had known what he was intending to do. She gave him a disbelieving look, and pushed past him roughly, tears streaming down her cheeks as she walked away from the corridor where he had corner her earlier.


Albus Dumbledore had formulated the plan a long time ago; ever since he set eyes on the two orphans at Wools Orphanage a few years back. The prophecy rang clearly in his head, and he finally knew what all this was about. However, Albus decided to wait longer and watch the progress of events before putting his plans into action.

It is only after he discovered that Tom Riddle had killed his father and grandparents that he decided to go ahead with his plan. The opening of the Chamber of Secrets had left all the Hogwarts staff and students shaken. Although Dumbledore had his suspicions, he could not gather enough evidence to point a finger on the culprit. He knew who it was, and was sad to learn about it. Finally, he decided that he could not wait any longer, after witnessing Tom Riddle kill his grandparents and Muggle father in Little Hangleton. Dumbledore had followed the young man when he apparated out of the castle silently during one of the Hogsmeade visits, and had seen it all. The murderous look on Tom Riddle’s face left him shaken, and he dare bet that he would never forget that look until the end of his days.

“It’s time,” Dumbledore muttered, as he reached into his drawer, and pulled out a tattered piece of parchment, which he had previously recorded the prophecy.

“This is for the Greater Good,” he said.


“This is the only way, Ms. Granger,” Dumbledore said. Hermione sat in a chair, tears running down her cheeks.

Dumbledore had called her to his office an hour ago, and had told her a few horrible things, which had left her shaken. She could not believe him at first, but after he showed her his memories and told her his theories, she came to the conclusion that he was telling the truth.

A pang of sadness washed over her, and a new flood of tears began to pour out of her eyes. How could her Tom become so evil and heartless? He had murdered brutally, and was planning to split his soul. And to top it all up, he was keeping all of this from her knowledge.

Dumbledore had comforted her when she first broke down. She told him that she really loved Tom, and wanted the best for both of them. Dumbledore had then told her of her plan.

Hermione was still considering it. Would it be worth a try, she wonders.

“Ms. Granger?”

Dumbledore’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts. “I’m sorry, but this is the only way. If you fulfilled the prophecy, all would be well. I had a feeling that Tom would turn into a dark wizard if we do not act soon.”

“I know, professor,” Hermione said. “I want the best for Tom too. I’ll do anything for him, just to bring him back from whatever path he was heading,” she said.

“Remember, the plan is a risky one. You may never return if it fails,” Dumbledore said, giving the brunette a sad look.

“I know,” Hermione said. “I’ll give you my answer in a few days.”

Dumbledore nodded, and showed her to the door. “Remember: time is of great importance here. You must decide quickly before it is too late.”


The corridors were dark as Hermione made her way through them. She had just finished patrolling the corridors, and was now returning to her dormitory.

She heard voices as she neared the end of the second floor corridor. Chills ran down her spine when she recognized one of the voices. It was Tom’s voice.

“What is he up to?” she wondered. She tiptoed silently towards the voices, and crouched down on the floor to listen.

“My lord…”

Was that Lestrange? Who was he addressing? He sounded scared.

“Lestrange!” It was Tom’s voice again.

“My lord, I…”


And Hermione wished to know no more. Getting up quickly, she ran. She ran as far away as possible from the corridors. Lestrange’s screams were no longer heard as she rounded the corridor.

It is then that Hermione made her decision.


Tom Riddle’s heart shattered into pieces the day Hermione Granger disappeared. She left nothing; not even a single explanation. She just disappeared.

Tom had figured that something was not quite right with Hermione a few back. She had been quiet in most of the classes, and never arrived on time in the Great Hall for her meals. She had refused to talk to him for the past week. The night before she disappeared, she seemed to be quite talkative.

Both of them had a wonderful night together. For once in all the seven years he spent at Hogwarts, Tom suddenly felt relaxed and carefree. They talked until late into the night, laughing at old jokes they made up at the orphanage. Then, both of them had gone up to bed. Tom had asked Hermione to stay with him in his Head Boy’s room, and Hermione surprisingly did not object. They slid under the covers together. Tom had fallen asleep immediately, as the day had been hectic for him.

And when he woke up, he felt a sudden coldness around him. He glanced at the clock, and found that it was a few hours until sunrise. He noticed that Hermione was no longer beside him.

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He checked her room to make sure that she was not there, before dashing down the corridors in search for her. Knowing Hermione, she would not have left him like this. Something must have happened to her.

He had returned to his dormitory after failing to locate her. And it was then that he spotted the letter. Quickly, he unfolded the piece of parchment and read the following, neatly scrawled in his beloved Hermiones elegant script:

My dearest Tom,

I will be long gone when this comes into your hands. Do not look for me, for you will not be able to find me. I’ve enchanted this letter to appear after I left.

Oh, how I wish to tell you all about it, but time will not permit me to do so. So, know what you must, my dearest, for I figure that you will piece all of this together after you’ve finish reading this.

Remember the good old times we both had together? I really cherished those moments, for they were the greatest turning points in my life. However, as you’ve change over the years, I cannot continue to live like this. You’re not the Tom I used to know. No longer can I feel the bond we had so lovingly created together. Thus, I made my choice, and in Grindelwald’s words, I daresay that this is for The Greater Good.

I know that my decision will break your heart, but I had no choice in the matter. You may never see me again, and I hope that you’re preparing to accept this reality. Hermione Jean Granger will be no more in your time, and will be considered as dead.

Redemption is the greatest magic, aside from love. I urged you to look back on what you have done. Do you feel any remorse at all? Is the desire to gain power so great that you planned to shatter the whole world with your plans? And is avoidance of death the best solution to gain immortality?

Oh yes, my dearest, I’ve long since discovered your secrets. I’ve tried to advise you, but my advice was ignored. You even tried to curse me once. From that moment, I’ve given up on you.

If you have enough human in yourself, do look back and consider my questions. Please do this for me, Tom. I beg you. Never kill, don’t do evil acts and move on with your life. I’m sure you’ll get along pretty well without me. It is best that you may forget me for the time being. Until the time is right, perhaps we will meet again, or perhaps this will never happen.

I really regret this, but I have no other choice.

I love you, Tom. [A few tear drops smudged this section, Tom noticed]

Roses are red, my Tom
Violets are blue
Till we meet again, my love
And I will always love you.

- Hermione

For the first time in his entire life, Tom Marvolo Riddle broke down completely. He clutched the letter tightly in his hands, and collapsed in a heap on the bed. He had lost her; his only true love. Just because of what he did.

He would change for the better. At least he will try. Hermione had said that they may meet again in the future, and he was placing high hopes on it. He figured that the old codger Dumbledore may have something to do with her disappearance. Anger welled up in him. Dumbledore will regret this if Tom ever found out that he had contributed to Hermione’s mysterious disappearance. Tom was planning to be rid of the old codger anyway. How dare he take his love away from him?

He would follow Hermione’s advise, but Albus Dumbledore was certainly not a life that he planned to spare. That manipulative, siding old fool need to be blasted off the planet as soon as possible.

“Hermione,” he whispered, burying his face into the pillow which she had slept on the previous night, inhaling her sweet rose and honeysuckle scent for the last time. “I love you.”


Hermione Granger began her new life on September 19, 1979. She was raised by loving parents, and lived a normal Muggle life. Nevertheless, her previous memories were still safe with her. Dumbledore had sent her forward in time in order to fulfill the prophecy. According to him, it is the only way to help Tom to change. If she succeeded, all would be well. Thus, Hermione kept her pretence, and acted appropriately around her new Muggle parents. In fact, she was beginning to like her new life.


Throughout the years, Tom Riddle had risen to power. His Death Eaters remained loyal towards him. When they left school, he had gone to work at Borgin and Bergs to earn a living.

From time to time, he would take out Hermione’s letter, and read it over and over again. He had even tried to look for her without success. However, he never gave up, and tried his best to avoid acting evil.

The old codger Dumbledore had denied him the post of Defence against the Dark Arts Teacher. Tom continued to work with Borgin and Bergs. On one occasion, he had visited Hepsiba Smith to collect artifacts from her, and had noticed Helga Hufflepuff’s cup and the Slytherin locket. The urge to make more horcruxes gnawed at his thoughts. He planned his moves carefully.

However, at the last moment, he changed his mind. He had promised Hermione that he will avoid the evil. He merely erased Hepsiba’s memory, and stole both treasures from her. Hepsiba never remembered a thing, of course.

Tom had also managed to locate Ravenclaw’s diadum in the dark forests of Albania, where he had visited countless times to learn dark magic. The temptation to make a horcrux rise in him again, but he managed to shake it off successfully by picturing the proud look on Hermione’s face when she saw him. He merely stored the diadum away in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts.

He kept the other two horcruxes, the gaunt ring and the diary in hidden locations, and placed a lot of wards on them.

As time passed, Tom grew more and more powerful. For a few years, he forgot himself, and started to act evilly again. He made another horcrux out of Nagini, a pet snake which he had found near the rivers of Babylon, where he had visited after retrieving Ravenclaw’s diadum. He started to kill Muggles and wizzarding folks. He started to recruit followers to his side.

And the last thing he did before he was vanquished from the wizzarding world was killing the Potters.


Hermione Granger attended Hogwarts with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. She was sorted into Gryfindor this time. At first, she could not get along well with both the boys, as they were fed up with her know-it-all attitude. She was the brightest witch for her age, and was top in her class. She had learned about Tom, or better known as Lord Voldemort’s downfall earlier when she read books about history of the wizzarding world and discovered Harry Potter’s biography. It broke her heart to know this. She had cried her eyes out, and had gone to Dumbledore. Dumbledore [who knew about all this from a letter addressed to his future self before Hermione was sent here] assured her that he will return. Hermione seek comfort in his words.

At the end of year one, Hermione had helped Harry and Ron to get the Philosopher’s stone. Her heart raced as they escaped the clutches of the Devil’s Snare. Harry had complained that his scar was hurting badly. Ron had suggested that it was some sort of sign.

“Maybe You-Know-Who is returning,” he mouthed. Hermione had nearly choked on her pumpkin juice upon hearing this. Harry and Ron did not notice it, and Hermione quickly covered her slip up back them by changing the subject.

Hermione’s heart was pounding madly when she left Harry to drink the potion that would bring to face Tom. She could feel his presence; she could sense a dark aura crackling about in the room. She hoped that all was well for Harry. She hoped that Tom, in whatever form he was in at this moment, would still remember her words. Or had he forgotten her?


“Professor?” Hermione dashed into the hospital wing. “What happened?”

Harry lay unconscious on one of the hospital bed. Ron had just recovered from the blow to the head by the chess pieces, and was groaning when Hermione rushed into the hospital wing.

“All is well, Ms. Granger,” Dumbledore smile. “The only loss we suffered is the stone. Nicholas probably wouldn’t mind.”


“Professor Quirell was sent to St. Mungos, and will not be expected to make a full recovery sooner. He is severely injured and stunned.”

“What about…”

“Ah, that remains to be seen, Ms. Granger. At least he has enough human in him to not kill Quirell. He waited for me to heal Quirell of the possession charm before leaving his body. This would not kill him, but instead leaves him in a persistent vegetative state.”

Hermione smiled. At least there was progress. She hoped that she would be meeting her beloved Tom soon. Or would she be able to do so, she wondered.


Second year for Hermione passed in a blur. The opening of the Chamber of Secrets had left her shaken. She had been petrified while looking for information on the Basilisk. She only knew the whole story when Harry told her about it.

“Riddle was kinda weird,” Harry had said. “He admits that he had possessed Ginny, and had forced her to do all the dirty work. However, in the end, I don’t know what got into him. Just as I was about to call for Fawkes, he spared Ginny’s life, and disappeared into the diary. I saw that he was reading some kind of parchment back in the chamber. Maybe something had changed his mind.”

Hermione smiled. That was her Tom. He had tried to stay from evil, and Hermione could tell that it took him great effort to do so. He even incorporated her letter into his horcruxes’ memory. That was truly one thing Hermione was happy about. He had changed. She hoped he would continue to change. For the ten millionth time, she wondered whether she would have the chance to see him again. A single tear trickled down her face. She missed Tom, and longed for his warm touch.


Nothing exciting happened in third year, except knowing the truth behind Harry’s parents’ death. She and Harry had used a time turner to rescue Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black from the dementors. It was quite a pleasant year for Hermione.


In fourth year, Harry had been chosen to enter the Tournament, along with the other champions from other schools. The casting of the dark mark during the Quidditch World Cup had left Hermione shaken. She wondered what Tom was up to now. He had probably resurrected himself, she gathered, as he had obtained the stone earlier. Harry performed spectacularly in the Tournament, making Hermione and Ron and the whole school proud. Finally, the terrible day came when Harry faced Voldemort in the maize. Hermione had heard about it when Harry emerged from the maize, clutching Cederick’s limp body.

“Is he….dead?” Amos Diggary had asked in a shaking voice.

“No, he was just stunned,” Dumbledore said. “A rather dark and powerful stunner.”

Hermione let out a deep breath. That was her Tom again. However, subsequently, Barty Crouch JR had been discovered as a spy for the dark side, and was sent to Azkaban for the rest of her life.

When Harry recovered, Hermione plucked up the courage to ask him about his encounter with Voldemort.

“He was….weird, Mione,” Harry confessed. “He was still handsome, as Riddle in the diary…” Harry broke off, and knitted his brows together.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, her expression worried.

“I’m fine. I just remembered something. Initially, before Wormtail resurrected him, he was going to say “kill the spare”. It was on the tip of his tongue, I could detect it through his hiss, but he quickly changed his mind and said “stun the spare” instead.”

Hermione just nodded. Deep down inside, she felt proud. He had changed.

“And when he was resurrected, and our wands connected when we fight, I saw Voldemort reading from a piece of torn parchment. It is the same parchment Riddle read in the chamber, judging by its appearance. After that, he seemed….undecided. Finally, before he was able to do anything else, I let go, on my parents’ advice, and here I am.”

Hermione smiled again. Tom, this was her Tom. He was changing. And she hoped that he would continue to do so.


Fifth year passed smoothly. The attack of Mr. Weasley made Hermione worried again. She wondered what was Tom up to at this moment. The night at the Department of Mysteries passed swiftly. Hermione was also angry with Tom when Harry told her that he had been sending images to him. Hermione told him to concentrate hard in his occlumency lessons with Snape to block off Tom.

Harry and Ron told her everything at the Department of Mysteries later when she was finally well. Antonin Dolohov had attacked her, and Hermione had not been prepared for it. She was angry with Tom again. How could he turn so evil suddenly? Was he changing his mind again, she wondered.

“Voldemort was…weird, as always. He merely mocked me, and left when Dumbledore came. Never even made an attempt to battle Dumbledore,” Harry said, sitting by her bedside.

“What?” Hermione asked in disbelief.

“And guess what? He still had the mysterious piece of parchment with him. He reads it several times, before turning on his heels, and stormed out of the ministry, after firing a harmless dark curse at Dumbledore, who deflected it quickly.”

Hermione was speechless. Her Tom was so unpredictable. She would never know what is up his sleeves. Nevertheless, one point is certain: he still loves her, and still remembers her.

“Mione? Are you okay?” Harry asked, looking down at her.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly.

“You’re crying,” Ronn, which sat on her other side said, extending a handkerchief to her. Harry took the handkerchief before Hermione could do so, and gently brushed away her tears.

“It’s okay,” he said gently. “I’m fine.”

She smiled at him.

“Oh, Harry. You would never guess,” she thought. The final thought that stuck in her head before she drifted off to sleep was: he still remembers her. Tom. Her Tom. He still loves her.


Hermione was panicking. A few hours ago, Dumbledore had just been murdered. Couldn’t Tom just spare the poor old professor’s life? She was so sad and angry at the same time that she had planned to forget Tom forever and move on with her life. However, she found it impossible to do so. Thus, the only choice left to her now was to help Harry find the horcruxes. Dumbledore had told them that there was a snake, Nagini, and a ring. Hermione felt guilty about this. She is killing Tom.

She figured that she would have to find the horcruxes quickly, and persuade both Harry and Ron to let her handle it. She would stow them away safely, pretending to destroy them. If Tom did not change in the end, she would not hesitate to destroy them. Dumbledore had told her that the end was near. She was scared to know the outcome. As the days passed, she dreaded the end. Her end. Tom’s end. Everybody’s end. How will it turn out, she wondered.


This is it. This will be the end.

Hermione stood beside Ron in the Great Hall. Half an hour ago, they had lost. Harry was dead. Hagrid had carried his body out of the forbidden forest. Now, Tom [or Voldemort] would be dominating the wizzarding world. All her handwork and sacrifice amounted to nothing. He never changed, it seemed. He just could not resist evil. This year, she had suffered a lot. She had endured a torturing session at Malfoy Manor, under the wand of a psychopathic Belatrix Lestrange. Besides, both Harry and herself had nearly been attacked by Nagini. Desperately, Hermione had tried to save both of them. At that moment, Nagini seemed to back away as Hermione lead Harry out of the room. She thought that Tom had given instructions to her not to really harm Harry. She had smiled at the snake back then, and surprisingly, it had winked back at her. Her heart was racing back then. Had Tom discovered her existence, she wondered. Nevertheless, she did not give much thought to it.

She had managed to convince Harry and Ron to let her destroy the horcruxes. They had agreed to do so, after hearing her out. Hermione had hidden them in a safe place, and planned to destroy them when necessary.

Now, standing in the Great Hall, all hope drained from her face, she had made her decision. She would destroy the horcruxes now. Now is the perfect time.

However, something kept her from retrieving the horcruxes from their hidden place; something which she could not explain herself. She had a strong feeling that all would be well in the future.

Just as the thought entered her head, she heard a loud commotion in front of her, and looked up. Ron gaped in horror, as his mother advanced on Belatrix Lestrange.

“Stay away from my children, you filthy woman!” Molly Weasley shrieked, pointing her wand at the madwoman. Her spell was so powerful, that it killed Belatrix.

Molly was about to back away, when a figure stepped into the center of the hall. And Hermione saw him. Tom. Her Tom. He was as handsome as before, with those captivating dark blue eyes, and jet black hair which was neatly parted to one side. There was no wrinkles on his face, which does not make him looked his age at all.

Hermione watched him. Will Tom change? This was the end, she was sure about it.

Her heartbeat quickened when Tom raised his wand [the Death Stick] taken from Dumbledore from his tomb, and directed it at Molly.


Hermione blinked. It could not be possible. She knew that voice. It was Harry Potter’s voice.

Hermione and the others in the Great Hall shouted in surprise when Harry emerged from under the invisibility cloak, and faced Tom.

“Voldemort, face the reality. All the horcruxes have been destroyed.”

“How do you…” Voldemort [her Tom] started in surprise. Anger flashed across his face.

“Be a man, Riddle!”

Voldemort hissed in anger. “Face death!”

“Never, Potter. I would never die in peace before….” Voldemort stopped, and his expression clouded over.

“Until what, Riddle? Until your love comes back?” Harry was taunting him now. “Ah, I bet you never knew what is love.”

“Shut up, boy!” Voldemort was angry now.

“Typical, isn’t it? How’s life being a single guy like, Riddle? Prey tells, I’ll very much like to know,” Ron said, stepping out from the crowd and joined Harry.

Voldemort just stood still.

“Come on, Riddle. Let’s get this over with. Kill me again!” Harry bellowed, raising his wand.

Voldemort did not move. He just stood there, rooted to his spot. An undecided look crossed his face. He seemed to be deep in thought.

Hermione could see the conflicts that Tom was facing now. She had yet to know his choice. She felt a tinge of pity towards him. Looking at him from a distance, he could detect a sense of humanity in him. He was still a human, and still had feelings. It clearly showed through his expressions. He still had a heart.

Hermione could not wait any longer. This was the time to appear in front of Tom. He would be so shocked, and all will end well. He will have her back. She knew that he had suffered a lot all these years, trying to comply with her wishes. For a fleeting moment, Hermione realised that she had been selfish all along. She never cared about how Tom feels. She only thought of f changing him. He had gone through a lot. She finally understands the reason behind his changing plans throughout all these years. He had been frustrated sometimes, when he still could not locate her. Thus, he succumbs to the evil acts, to let out his stress. She should have noticed this earlier, through his pattern of behaviour. During her first, second and third year, he had acted as best as possible. When it never gave him any result, he became vicious and frustrated, thus constituting to the terrible killings for the past two years.

A tear rolled down Hermione’s cheek, and she wiped it away quickly. She focused her gaze back to the front, where Harry was just beginning to raise his wand.

“Riddle, come on! Why the wait?” Harry shouted.

Slowly, Voldemort raised his wand.

“Avada…” He lowered his wand before he could complete the curse.

“Expeliar…” Harry bellowed, but Voldemort deflected it quickly.

“Avada…” Voldemort lowered his wand for the second time. All the people in the Great Hall stared at him in astonishment.

“Voldemort! What are you playing at? Expeliar…” Harry was frustrated. Once again, Voldemort deflected his disarming spell with a lazy flick of his wand.

Then, Voldemort raised his wand for the third time.

“Avada ked…”

“Expeliarmus!” Harry shouted the curse quickly, and the wand flew out of Voldemort’s hand.

“What’s wrong with you, Riddle? Have you lost your mind?” Harry bellowed. “Why don’t you kill me?”

Voldemort just stood there, surveying the hall.

“Kill him! Kill him!” the Great Hall echoed.

“Should I kill you then?” Harry asked. “After all, it is the only way to justify that we’ve won. You’ve done enough evil. Do you feel any remorse at all, Tom? It is time for redemption!”

Something flickered in Voldemort’s eyes as Harry said this.

“You leave me with no choice, Tom. I’m sorry. It only seems fair to kill you,” Harry muttered. The Great Hall applauded loudly.


Tom surveyed the faces in the Great Hall. This is it. He had tried his best. Hermione is not going to come back. He had nevertheless tried to keep his promise as best as possible. This was his end. He will die willingly. Maybe Hermione is waiting for him on the other side.

He closed his eyes. Beautiful and sweet memories flashed before his eyes. Today was 14th February, 1998. It is Valentine ’s Day. This was the fifty-fifth Valentine’s day without his beloved Hermione at his side. She had disappeared on 14th February, 1945, exactly fifty-five years from now.

For a moment, Tom let reality crash down on him. She was dead. She would not come back. He would not see her again.

“I’m sorry, Tom.”

Potter’s voice jolted him from his thoughts. He slowly opened his eyes. Potter stood before him, wand in hand.

Tom took a deep breath, and straightened up.

“Kill me, boy,” he said in a voice he hoped was strong, confident and clear. “I will die willingly at your hands.”

He took one last look at his Death Eaters. All of them looked shocked and gaped at him in disbelief. He did not care at all. This was his choice.

His gaze swept through the room. And finally met a pair of hazel brown eyes.

His pulse quickened. He blinked, and surveyed the room again.

And he saw her.


His beloved Hermione.

She was standing in a corner, opposite him. She looked the same, except, younger, perhaps?

His pulse quickened. He blinked. Was this a dream?

He gazed into the warm, hazel brown eyes. For a moment, she just looked at him and did not move.

“There must be a mistake,” he thought. She would have recognized him immediately if she was Hermione.

He was about to turn away, when the girl started to move away from the wall and headed in his direction.

“Hermione! Stay away!” the Weasley boy exclaimed, lunging forward to push her away.

“Hermione?” Potter looked confused.

“Never mind, Ron. Hold on for a while,” Potter finally said. Tom registered none of this. He stared at the girl who is advancing towards him.

“Avada kedavra!” Potter shouted out forcefully.

“Harry, No!”

It happened too quick, that Tom had barely time to register what was going on. He felt himself. One moment, the jet of green light was heading towards him. Another moment, the girl, Hermione, had flung herself in front of him. The jet of green light hit her squarely on the chest.

Tom froze. It was really his Hermione. She had come at last, to save him.

“Hermione?” he managed to ask finally, when he was able to speak.

The girl looked up with him with glassy eyes and smiled. It was Hermione’s sweetest smile: the first sincere and beautiful smile she had given him when she first showed her potential. Oh, how long ago that was.

“T…Tom…” she managed to whisper.

“Hermione!” he said, rushing to kneel beside her.

She struggled to keep her eyes open.

“I…succeeded…You changed…”

“Hermione, don’t leave me again, please!” Tears started to stream down his cheek. It appears that Potter’s killing curse was not strong enough to cause instant death. Hermione would still have a few more last moments.

“Tom…I….love…you…” her breathing was getting shallow now.

He took her into his arms.

“Hermione, I love you. Forever, and ever, and ever. Don’t leave me!” He could not afford to lose her again.

“Happy…Valentine’s Day, Tom…”

“Hermione!” he held her tightly.

Her eyelids drooped, and her breathing stopped.

“Hermione!” he cradled her body.

Confusion was apparent on the faces of the others in the Great Hall. Potter and Weasley had turned as white as sheet, and they stood motionless a few feet away from him. Voldemort did not care about this. Hermione was dead. His beloved Hermione was gone. Forever.

“Hermione, I love you,” he whispered, as he gently placed her body down on the stone floor.

He put his head in his hands, and closed his eyes. This was too much for him.


The small crystalball in Albus Dumbledore’s secret drawers burst open just as Hermione took her last breath.

“The prophecy 
Is thus fulfilled
And all should live
While the past is changed
And a new beginning will ensue.”

Time was frozen for a while, as the clouds of dust from the shattered prophecy soared out of the office and headed towards the Great Hall.

In the Great Hall, Tom Riddle stared in disbelief as Hermione’ chest gave a strong heave. He blinked. He must be dreaming. Half a second later, Hermione’s eyelids fluttered open.

“Tom?” she croaked. He immediately pulled her towards her, and hugged her tightly.


Confusion was evident in his voice.


“Shhh. Let me explain,” Hermione said in a quiet voice. “But first, let’s just get away to a safe a quiet place. The others will get to know all about this later.”

“As you wish, love,” Tom said. He carried Hermione to a corner in the Great Hall, and turned on the spot. He had destroyed all the anti-apparation charm placed within the corridors of Hogwarts.

They apparated into a quiet park; the park which they used tot play in and the park where Tom had first met Hermione.


Tom stared down t Hermione, who was sleeping peacefully on the grass beside him. She was so exhausted after telling him everything. All the pieces of the puzzle fitted together neatly now.

He was angry to learn that it was indeed the old codger Dumbledore’s plans. Hermione had gone forward in time in order to help him change. Dumbledore had given her a special time turner to do it. If she succeeded, the prophecy is fulfilled, and all will be well. The killing curse Potter fired just now had hit the time turner, which Hermione had wore around her neck ever since she got into this time period. It must have absorbed the curse, and froze time temporarily, until the prophecy in Dumbledore’s office shattered. Hermione had been “resurrected”, as she put it. He smirked at this.

“At least you change,” Hermione said, running her fingers up his arms gently.

“The nerve of that codger…” he started, but Hermione cut him off.

“Oh shut up, Tom. You still killed him.”

“Hmmm,” he said.

“So, what happened to the stone?” she asked him.

“Ah, you never change, my little angel. Always the curious one,” he said. “The stone is still hidden, somewhere safe. I’ll need some of the Elixir, don’t you think so?”


“Relax. I just need some time with you. As I still have my horcruxes, which you have so kindly preserved, I don’t even need the stone. I’ll return it to Flamel if I feel up to it,” he chuckled.

“Tom…” she smacked him playfully.

That was the last thing she said before she finally drifted off to sleep.

“My, my. What an interesting and memorable Valentine’s Day,” Tom sighed. He kissed Hermione gently, before stretched before lying down on the grass beside Hermione, and closed the distance between them.


































© Copyright 2018 Amanda Samsam. All rights reserved.

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