Disclaimer in chapter one

A/N: Sorry for the update delay. I started a new job and I'm sure you all know how that can be time consuming. Sadly, being a fanfic author alone doesn't really pay the rent ;) I hope you can even remember this fic after the long hiatus. In any way, enjoy the new chapter ^^ It's a bit shorter than intended, because apparently I was unable to write this stupid little scene that is still missing. But yeah… here's what I got. Also, if you read my other fanfic 'Please, save me', I haven't forgotten about it. I'll update it eventually ;)

Thank you all for reviewing! I haven't replied to every one of you as I've been so busy, but I read all of your input and I want to thank everyone for taking the time writing me a review. You are awesome and without you guys fanfic wouldn't work :D

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Chapter Fifteen: He's kinda nice…

It was with trepidation that Hermione walked to Dumbledore's office. Not because she would be loath to meet the man, but because she was afraid of the conversation they needed to have. Hogwarts library was admittedly quite comprehensive, but it had still left Hermione stranded with her time travel problem. She simply lacked the experience and knowledge to tackle such a problem. Dumbledore was her only hope to find a way for her to go home and Hermione was afraid to meet him now and hear him say it was impossible. Her hand shook badly as she raised it to knock at the transfiguration professor's office.

"Enter, please," came a voice from within and Hermione complied.

"Good evening, professor."

Dumbledore sat on a fluffy armchair in front of the fireplace, a cup of tea in hand. The old wizard smiled at her brightly and gestured for her to sit down in the unoccupied chair across from him.

"Hermione, please, make yourself at home," Dumbledore said kindly.

Before Hermione accepted the invitation, she secured the door with a few secrecy spells. Dumbledore poured another cup of tea as she finally sank into the armchair across from him.

"Here," he said merrily and handed her the cup. "Strawberry-mint. It's simply delicious."

"Thank you." Hermione threw him a small smile.

"So, Hermione, tell me, how are you doing?" Dumbledore inquired as they had both settled down comfortably.

Hermione drew in a deep breath of air. "As good as can be expected, I suppose."

Dumbledore nodded sagely and took another sip from his tea. "I hear Ms Black's performance during class has taken an unexpected turn for the better."

Hermione groaned and peered at him sheepishly. "Yes. I'm sorry. I messed up."

"Don't worry too much about it." Dumbledore scanned her with concern glimmering in his eyes. "But you need to be more careful or you might give yourself away."

Hermione put her cup down and ran a distressed hand over her face. "I know. But…" She scanned Dumbledore timidly. "But I think I already gave myself away."

The wizard raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"He suspects me," Hermione admitted reluctantly. "Tom Riddle knows something is up with me."

"Hm, that is quite unsettling," Dumbledore mused pensively, stroking his long beard. "But he does not know the full truth of your origin?"

"No." Hermione shook her head. "I guess time travel is a bit farfetched even for Tom."

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, eyes once again glinting merrily.

Hermione took another sip from her tea only to stall her next question. Her stomach was in tight knots, making her feel slightly nauseous.

"Professor?" she asked, voice trembling around the edges. "Did you… did you find anything that could take me back to my time period?"

Dumbledore gazed at her over his half-moon spectacles and she didn't like the pity crossing his face. She balled her hands into tight fists, her nails cutting into her skin.

"I have searched, Hermione," Dumbledore said sombrely. "You must understand that your case is unique. The magic necessary to catapult someone so far back in time is quite substantial. A spell to sustain such power would be immensely complex. The same is true for a spell pushing someone forward in time. I would be able to fabricate such a spell, but unfortunately this process is even more convoluted by the fact that we have yet to identify the incantation that propelled you back in time."

All of Hermione's fears crashed down on her. Something constricted painfully around her chest, making breathing difficult. Her lower lip trembled traitorously as she croaked out,

"I- I'm stranded. I can never go home."

She could feel her eyes burn and angrily wiped at them. Dumbledore leaned a bit towards her and laid a soothing hand on her arm.

"I didn't say that, Hermione," he tried to console her. "It just is quite a challenge to solve this problem. I haven't given up, though. I am going to continue finding a way to bring you back."

"T- thank you," Hermione breathed out, fighting against her tears.

She peered up at the professor and found an encouraging smile on his face. Shakily, she tried to return it.

"I j- just miss home… my friends," she told him, voice cracking. "I- it's not so bad here, but… I don't belong here. It's wrong. Everything is wrong. Even…" She wrung her hands in her lap. "Even my body is wrong. I'm not Rosalie Black. I want to be Hermione Granger again."

"I understand," Dumbledore's kind voice soothed her. "It is a difficult situation for you, but don't give up. It's not hopeless."

Hermione looked at him tearily. "I'll try, professor."

Dumbledore smiled at her widely and poured her another cup of tea.

~.~.~

Furtively, Hermione rubbed her eyes as she wandered back to the Slytherin common room. She was immensely grateful for Dumbledore's, but despite his efforts to reassure her there was a dark spot growing in her chest. Fear had a tight grip on Hermione. She felt as if her future, her family, her friends were slipping through her fingers. What if Dumbledore couldn't find a way to send her back? What if she really had to stay here? As Rosalie Black?

Dark thoughts circling around her predicament, Hermione wandered down a corridor. She wasn't paying much attention to where she was going, so she was quite unprepared as a voice cried from behind her,

"Adaperio!"

And just a second later, something collided hard with her back, hurling Hermione away. She grunted in pain as she was thrown to the floor, skidding a few feet on the polished stone. Shit! Without thinking, her reflexes kicked in and Hermione rolled around, simultaneously pulling her wand. She still lay on the floor but raised her wand at her attacker, adrenaline rushing through her body. Her brain hadn't had the time to consider all the implications and yet Riddle's face already spooked through her mind. A powerful curse almost rolled from the tip of Hermione's wand as she finally recognized her attacker. For once, it wasn't Riddle.

"Gamp?" Hermione whispered incredulously.

Indeed it was her roommate, Gamp, who stood over her, wand in hand. The girl's dark hair frizzled around her, charged by the magic crackling in the air, and she smirked at Hermione triumphantly. Hermione frowned up at the gleeful Slytherin and sat up, painfully holding her back.

"What-"

Gamp cut over her and jeered, "Did you like that?"

Hermione groaned as she slowly got up, keeping her wand in her hand. In annoyance, she mumbled, "No, can't say I did."

Painfully she rubbed the small of her back where Gamp's curse had probably left behind a nice, large bruise. Hermione glared at the other girl and inquired, "What did you do that for?"

Gamp's nose crinkled in disgust as she eyed Hermione. "What? Did you think you could treat me like garbage and I'd just take it lying down?"

Of course Hermione knew that Gamp probably had ample reason to hate Rosalie Black, but at the moment she wasn't feeling very forgiving. Fingers tightening around her wand, Hermione replied harshly,

"It's no reason to just cu-"

Gamp just ran over her again and hissed, cold anger wrapped around her every word, "You think you're so important. Rich, beautiful Slytherin princess, Rosalie Black. Striding around the place, all high and mighty like everyone should bow to her." Gamp took a threatening step towards Hermione. "Well, here's a newsflash: no-one likes you, Rosalie. You're a joke." A smirk twisted up her lips as she added meanly, "The only thing you've got going for you is a pretty face. And believe me, everyone knows that without that you're just a boring, stupid waste of space."

Hermione blinked at Gamp, momentarily struck mute by the vitriol in the other's voice. The Slytherin twirled her wand through her fingers and her nasty smirk widened as Gamp took in how Hermione rubbed her sore back. In twisted self-satisfaction, she stated,

"Finally you'll look as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside."

Nice, Hermione thought bitterly and hoped Gamp's spell wouldn't make her throw up slugs or something equally nasty. Well, it already hurt quite badly. Grinding her teeth in anger, Hermione pushed her wand back into her robe pocket. She was done here.

"You know what?" Hermione said tightly. "Maybe Ros- I deserved this. But do you really think this is the right way to go about it? Cursing someone from behind their back?"

"Yes, you do deserve this," Gamp agreed, nasty glint in her eyes. "The way you treat people, you deserve a lot worse."

"Yeah, well… Thanks for that," Hermione drawled sarcastically. "Now that you've joined the club, I suggest we go our separate ways."

With that she left the angry Slytherin standing in the corridor and stalked away. Her back was hurting but she still held it straight.

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A few hours later, Hermione still felt churned up. She sat in the Great Hall for dinner, but couldn't bring herself to eat anything. Gamp's actions had shaken her quite a bit. It wasn't so much the actual attack that upset her so – Hermione was used to a lot worse in her time period – but the truth behind Gamp's caustic words. The girl had been right about one thing: No-one really liked Rosalie Black. The whole school thought she was an airhead, her boyfriend – or now ex-boyfriend – had just used Rosalie, her so-called friends wouldn't hesitate to betray her if it benefitted them and the rest of them apparently hated her enough to throw curses at her. Rosalie was painfully isolated and now Hermione was stuck in her body, sharing her fate. She was utterly alone.

Hermione worried her lower lip as her dull eyes wandered over her housemates. The green and silver of their uniforms made her want to curl up and cry. She didn't want to be here. Didn't belong. Slytherin wasn't her house. Hermione missed everyone from her time. Were Harry and Ron alright? What about the Weasleys, Luna or Lupin? Feeling utterly dejected, Hermione listlessly nibbled at a dry piece of toast. What if Dumbledore wouldn't be able to find a solution to her problem after all? What if it took him years to find it?

"Hey, Rosalie?" a voice seeped into her depressed thoughts.

Hermione looked up from her toast and found Betty smiling at her widely. Had she been there the whole time?

"Yes?" Hermione mumbled dully.

Either Betty couldn't take a hint or she didn't care that Hermione wasn't in the mood to talk. In any way, she smiled at Hermione and gushed out,

"I heard that you got an 'O' in your last Potions essay."

"Uh-huh," Hermione hummed apathetically.

"Well?" Betty leaned closer to her and whispered conspiratorially, "How'd you do it? Someone else wrote it for you?"

A deep frown appeared between Hermione's eyebrows. Of course the other girl would suspect foul play. After all, Rosalie Black did not get any 'O's if she didn't resort to some kind of underhanded tactics. Throwing an annoyed look at Betty, Hermione said coldly,

"I studied. That's the only way you can get good grades."

Betty's face fell, confusion entering her eyes. "Oh… Okay. It's just strange, you know."

That was enough. Hermione couldn't deal with this right now. She threw her half-eaten toast on her plate and stood up.

"I'm finished," she told Betty tightly before she walked out of the Great Hall.

Balling her hands into tight fists, Hermione left the castle. Cold wind blew into her face, making her wrap her robe around herself. Feeling lost, Hermione wandered to the edge of the Great Lake. The water looked murky grey and quite frosty. Still she was hit by the sudden urge to just jump in. Maybe she might find refuge down with the merpeople. Hermione sighed deeply and plopped down in the grass. The wind was still icy cold, but she ignored it.

What would she do if there really was no way back to her time? Her thoughts wandered to her parents. They were in Australia with no recollection that they had ever had a daughter. At least they wouldn't miss her. Hermione's lower lip wobbled at the thought. Soon there were hot tears running down her cheeks. Blinking rapidly, she tried to stop but just couldn't. Memories of her lost life spooked through her head as she huddled in a pathetic ball at the shore of the Great Lake. Angrily, Hermione wiped over her face. The tears though didn't want to stop and rolled down her cheeks.

"What's wrong?" a deep voice asked.

Startled, Hermione quickly tried to get rid of her traitorous tears. Then she hesitantly turned around. She looked up into a pair of blue eyes. Of course it would be Tom Riddle, she thought irritably as she scanned his emotionless face. His gaze slowly wandered over her and Hermione knew that her eyes were probably puffy and red from the crying. Just great. She really wasn't in the mood to get mocked. Swallowing down her tears, she asked in a hopefully steady voice,

"How can I help you?"

Riddle merely arched an eyebrow. Then, to Hermione's surprise, he sat down beside her.

"I rather thought it was you in need of help," he stated coldly.

She forced a condescending look on her face and scoffed, "Whyever would you think that?"

Normally he always lost his temper whenever she was belittling him, but this time Riddle merely continued to scan her. Then he slowly, very slowly, raised his hand. Hermione stiffened as his fingers touched her cheek and gently skimmed over her skin. As he removed his hand, she could see that a solitary tear clinging to the tip of his finger. His gaze seemed to be clued to that trop of salt water. Abruptly, the blue orbs flashed back at her. He stared into her eyes, and Hermione felt unable to avoid his hypnotizing gaze.

His voice was still painfully free of any emotion as he calmly said, "I repeat: what's wrong?"

Hermione didn't know what it was – maybe the complete lack of pity on his face or maybe the fact that Riddle was in a twisted way a part of the home she had lost – whatever it was, her tears decided to come back. She still was unable to avoid his mesmerising eyes as she felt the new tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I don't know," she replied in a stifled voice. "…everything?"

Still cold as ice, Riddle bent closer to her and even grasped her hand in his. Hermione felt his fingers closing around her demandingly.

"Tell me," he said and his quiet voice didn't hide the sharp command.

Strangely enough, his tone of voice for once didn't raise her temper. Instead Hermione mumbled in a chocked voice, "I used to always know all the answers. But now… I just don't."

Riddle's fingers tightened around hers, but it strangely didn't feel threatening. He looked at her through narrowed eyes, demanding more of an explanation. Hermione felt strangely grounded by the familiarity of Riddle's domineering behaviour.

"It's… it's just…" she whispered tearily. "I feel like… like everything is crumbling down around me. Or maybe it's just me falling." She could still feel his hand holding hers. "Everything is different, you see. Not in a good way different. I didn't want things to change …for the worse. I want… I want to be protected again. I don't want to be alone." She sniffed and added pathetically, "I guess I lost the feeling of security."

To her own surprise and horror, Hermione noticed how her fingers closed around Riddle's hand. She was holding to him tightly.

"I was… happy," she whispered, finally averting her eyes from him. "I didn't even notice how happy I was. And then everything was suddenly gone. Now, it's just cold and… unsure. I'm alone."

Hermione still felt Riddle's hand in hers. After her confession she let her head hang and didn't look up at him. Maybe she never wanted to look at him again.

"Everyone is alone," Riddle said, frost leaking through his voice like always. "We all have to look after ourselves."

Staring down at her fingers entwined with his, Hermione smiled a sad smile.

"That's just it," she whispered, painful hollowness clasping at her heart. "I came from a place where that wasn't true. Where we looked after each other. Where I was not alone but protected. And now…" Hermione raised her eyes and locked them with his blue ones. "Now you are right."

Hermione was surprised. She had never noticed. Riddle's eyes were beautiful. Radiating nothing but coldness, they clawed at her with ferocity. Still, they were beautiful to look at.

"So you're really trying to tell me that Black manor is a happy place? And that you felt protected there?" he mocked and suddenly there was a smirk on his face. "I always thought that manor was somehow haunted, to be honest."

The light taunt in his voice was not meant to hurt. It was something new for Hermione. It made her smile up at Riddle. Before her mind had time to yell at her to stop, Hermione leaned over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Leaning her head against his chest, she breathed in his pleasant scent. His whole body tensed up as she hugged him.

"I wasn't talking about Black manor, silly," she whispered, smiling into his uniform shirt.

Under normal circumstances she would have yelled out in fright, but now she only closed her eyes and relaxed comfortably against Riddle as she felt his fingers gently running through her hair.

"I think the only thing that's really changed is you, Rosalie," Riddle told her in his collected voice.

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