A/N: Hey there dear reader! Welcome! A few things before you continue on with this one: 1) Dramione will be endgame. 2) There will be both Dramione and Tomione (LOTS OF TOMIONE) in this. 3) There will be a lot of darkness and triggers abound 4) I am reserving the right not to put TW's on anything going forward. I am not a fan of them, as I think they are spoilers. So if you decide to continue, you do so at your own risk.

Fancast for Tom Riddle is Tom Hughes

ONE

Friday, 1 May 1998

Hermione could see the terror in Malfoy's eyes as Harry asked him why he didn't turn them in at the Manor. Then Goyle leaned in and whispered something in his ear and Hermione surged forward. Her spell knocked Zabini's wand from his hand. A few more spells flew through the air. The Diadem went flying and the Slytherin's scattered.

"That's my girlfriend!" Ron screamed as he ran after them.

Hermione followed Harry up the stack the Diadem had landed in. Cornish Pixies snapped at them as they disturbed their hiding place. Near the top of the pile, Harry dug between the cushions of an abandoned couch and laughed with relief. "Got it!"

She smiled and they made their way down. The relief was short lived as Ron's screams filled the air. "Goyle's set the whole bloody place on fire!" he shouted as he grabbed Hermione and pulled her away.

She looked over her shoulder and squinted against the bright wave of orange flames hot on their heels. Fiendfyre. Dangerous and unpredictable. Hard to cast. Impossible to control. They had to get out.

One foot in front of the other. Keep running. Her lungs burned with exertion and she coughed from the acrid smoke in the air. Every time they turned a corner they were greeted with hellish flames. They came to a halt as a scream pierced the air.

Harry waved his wand to ward off a flame. Ron fell to the ground. When he got up, he was shoving a broom at her. She held it in her hands. There was no time for fear. She mounted it and rose up as high as she could.

"This way!" Ron yelled over the roar of the flames.

They zipped above the fire; exit in sight.

Harry zoomed ahead of them, but turned his head back as they flew over Zabini and Malfoy. Goyle no longer in sight. Must have been the scream, she thought. Her stomach flipped.

"We can't leave them!" Harry shouted.

"The hell we can't!" Ron argued. "If I die saving them, I'll kill you Harry!" he stated as they circled back.

Harry was first, but his hand missed Malfoy's. He began to circle back immediately. Hermione was right behind him. Her hand connected with his and she hoisted him with all of her might. He scrambled behind her on the broom and it dipped from the shift in balance. His arms wrapped around her waist and she surged forward. She couldn't look back to see if they got Zabini.

The flames reared up. Her hand lifted to clear a path. The sudden movement left her unsteady and the broom toppled. Hermione let out a scream as she plummeted to the ground. Her head bounced off the ground and she saw Malfoy's shoulder take the brunt of his fall. She brought her arms over her head as the flames descended. The pain in her arm tore a scream most foul from her throat.

She felt herself being lifted up. The tears clouded her vision. The pain was fogging her mind. "Granger, move!" Malfoy hissed.

Her adrenaline surged once more. Her feet were unsteady, but they moved forward. Malfoy's hand on her bicep steered her forward. She heard the groan of a door. The flames were hot on her back. She cried out as she was pushed forward. More pain from the rough wall she bounced off of.

Her eyes opened; flames engulfing her vision. She screamed again. Malfoy's body crashed up against hers as the flames slammed the door shut with a bang. The darkness beckoned and she succumbed without a fight.

Monday, 1 September 1944

Heat. Flames. Screams. Pain. Darkness.

Hermione's eyes opened immediately; a scream dying on her lips. She was only still for a moment before she fought the sheets wrapped around in her attempt to get up. Her mind fogged and her body ached. When she moved her left arm, she cried out in pain.

"Don't move, Granger, you'll-"

Malfoy emerged from the shadows and Hermione lashed out. Her right hand balled into a fist and connected with his face. She threw her body weight into it, causing her to nearly topple off the bed. Her satisfaction was cut short as pain made her scream again.

"Fuck, Granger! Why are you always punching?"

"Fuck you, Malfoy!" she snarled.

He kept one hand up near his face to catch the blood that leaked from his nose while the other he held up in surrender. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Where are they?"

"I don't know."

"Malfoy-" her voice broke as she thought of Harry and Ron perishing in the flames.

"Granger, I need you to shut the fuck up for a minute and listen to me!" His tone was urgent enough that she snapped her mouth shut and glared at her.

"I don't know what happened to them because they're not here with us."

"Where-"

"Granger." There was warning in his tone. He tilted his head back to ebb the bleeding. "The broom went down. As happy as I am to see you fail at something, I wish it wasn't something our lives depended on," his voice haughty. "We went down when you cleared that path. The fire grazed you. I pulled you up. There was a door. I pulled us into it and we both blacked out. When I came to, we were here."

She looked around, forcing herself to focus on the details. "We're in the infirmary at Hogwarts."

"Yes."

Her eyes went wide. "Voldemort-"

He winced and waved his hand. "There's no battle, Granger. Nothing. I came to first. Everyone was standing over us. We're in Hogwarts, but it's… We…"

"Spit it out!" she hissed.

"I don't know what the fuck happened, but we're in Hogwarts. It's not 1998 anymore; it's September First, 1944."

There were voices coming from down the hall accompanied by the echoing footsteps.

"They probably heard your screams. I told them we were transfers. I'm Draco Malory and you're Harmony Granger. We're from Durmstrang."

Three adults walked into the room then. Hermione sucked in a breath and Malfoy went even paler than she thought possible. Dumbledore. Alive. Here in this room. Her heart broke and she cried again. The other man she recognized as well, but the pain kept her from recalling a name. The woman she didn't know.

"What happened?" the woman asked, looking from Malfoy to her.

"She was having a nightmare and I tried to calm her," he said, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore.

"She has spectacular aim," Dumbledore said, giving her a secret smile. It only created a new wave of tears. "I'll tend to Mister Malory, Gwendolyn," he said, gesturing for Malfoy to follow him.

Hermione lost sight of him as the other two adults approached her bedside. "I'm Gwendolyn Perth, the Matron of Hogwarts. This is Headmaster Dippet. I'm so sorry your arrival to Hogwarts was not a pleasant one. That's a right nasty burn you have." She gathered various pots and vials from the side table and started giving Hermione sips of this and that before removing the bandages on her arm. "What happened?"

"We Apparated."

"You cannot Apparate to Hogwarts grounds," Dippet said lightly. "I don't recall seeing a notice of any transfers. Had we known, we would have been able to tell you that ahead of time." He tipped his head to the side. "Then again, it could be all my fault. I'm terrible at organizing my things. I'm surprised you even got through the wards. You both must be very powerful."

Hermione's retort turned into a hiss as a salve touched her burned flesh. As she glanced down at her arm, she almost smiled. The burn had singed off the unsightly slur from her skin. With any luck, her flesh would heal and she would be free of it forever.

Who knew one could be so thankful for Fiendfyre?

"A mistake for all of us," she said.

"Durmstrang you say?" he asked, most likely due to their very Brittish accents. They're voices were nothing like a student who would attend such a school.

"We were born in England. Our parents run a business together and an opportunity opened just before we were to start school. They moved back here last April and we decided at the last minute we wanted our last year to be where our parents graduated from."

"So you're both Seventh Years?" Perth questioned.

Hermione nodded and relaxed against the bed as the salve began to soothe her. The potions were kicking in as well leaving her feeling listless. The pain ebbed to a dull ache.

"We should let them rest for the night. Term officially starts tomorrow. We'll be by first thing and if you're healed enough we can get you set up with your schedules and sort you into your houses," Dippet said. "Rest up, Miss Granger."

She nodded and they left her to move on to Malfoy. He repeated his statement to her rival and then all three adults left them. Malfoy slid out of his bed and came over to her again, this time keeping himself out of her reach.

"You broke my nose again, Granger."

"Good," she muttered, straining to keep her eyes open.

"What did you tell them?" he asked. She relayed the story, hoping her words didn't slur together too much. "Easy enough."

She lifted her right hand to her face and wiped at the tears that burned their way down her cheeks. She refused to lose control in front of Malfoy, but her resolve was fading quickly.

"I don't know what happened exactly, but if I know one thing, Granger, it's that Potter and Weasley made it out. They always do."

Because I'm with them! she wanted to shout.

Instead, she broke down into choking sobs and turned away from him to shield herself. He only stood there for a few more moments before turning away. He drew the curtain around her bed to give her a semblance of privacy and retreated back to his bed. It was going to be a long night for both of them.

Tuesday, 2 September 1944

The House Elves had brought their breakfast to them the moment Madam Perth had declared them both fully healed. Hermione was grateful that the fire had burned off the slur from her arm. The skin was intact; not a trace of that cursed blade to be found.

They ate in silence. She wracked her brain as she tried to recall all she knew about Hogwarts. She had practically memorized Hogwarts: A History, but too much had happened. Her brain was still foggy. She knew there was some significance to knowing the year was 1944, but she couldn't place it.

A girl about their age came to collect them when their breakfast was finished. "I'm Claudia Sinclair, Head Girl. Hufflepuff." She was all smiles as she greeted them. "Transfers are so rare! I'm more than happy to give you a tour if you need one. Do you know much about the Houses here?"

It was all she could not to rush ahead to the Headmaster's office and she could tell from the scowl on Malfoy's face that he felt the same way. She rubbed at her temples; the girl's hyper mood was causing her migraine to worsen.

They stopped at the statue and the girl knocked by tapping her wand on the center thrice. The statue moved and revealed the spiral stairs. Hermione hesitated. She knew Dumbledore wasn't the Headmaster, but it still was surreal to step foot inside knowing he wouldn't be there.

Dippet wasn't alone as she had expected. There was another man sitting in front of the desk. Both rose as the three of them entered. "This is Apollyon Pringle, our caretaker here. He'll show you to your respective dorms after you're sorted. Thank you, Miss Sinclair, I'll send for you later."

"My pleasure, Headmaster!" she said and then nodded to the caretaker. "Pringle."

"Please, take a seat," Dippet said, transfiguring a third chair out of a random object on the ground. "Your transcripts must have been in your trunks. Those must have been lost in your attempt to Apparate onto the grounds. You'll spend the day getting a tour and acquainted with the school. Once sorted, your heads of house will help you get materials needed for class. We can also set you up with spare robes immediately. This weekend you may go to Hogsmeade to purchase more clothes. It's a small village below the castle. You'll like it."

"Thank you, Sir," Hermione said.

"You can owl your parents or Durmstrang for your transcripts later. Shall we pick your classes?"

They both nodded curtly and spent the next half hour making a schedule. Hermione only took the bare minimum and noticed that Malfoy did the same. That would give them plenty of spare time to figure out a way back. When they were done, Pringle went to retrieve the sorting hat. "It seems you have similar interests. I believe your schedules are almost the same."

"Always have been," Hermione said quickly, giving a light smile.

He smiled back and then took the hat from Pringle. He moved to stand beside Malfoy first. "I'm not familiar with how they sort houses at Durmstrang, but here the hat does it. Once it sits upon your head, it will determine your most prominent traits and set you into your house accordingly. Mister Malory will go first."

Hermione recalled their First Year when the hat didn't even touch Malfoy's head before it screamed Slytherin. She was surprised as the hat seemed to linger a moment before announcing, "Slytherin."

They glanced at each other, neither surprised by the placement.

"A fine house," Dippet said as he lifted the hat and moved to Hermione. "Miss Granger."

The hat rested upon her head and she flashed back to her own sorting. She found herself torn. As much as she disliked Malfoy, it would be better to stick with him than be separated, but she didn't want to be in Slytherin. Not that the House itself was evil, the name just wasn't synonymous with trust and good fortune for her.

Your mind is even brighter than the last! the hat thundered in her mind. Smart; very smart. You would do Rowena proud. But there is a fiery courage akin to Godric himself!

Not Slytherin, she whispered. Ravenclaw would be best for me.

Yet there is true power in your blood. Even Salazar would be intrigued by the raw power you possess.

Not Slytherin! She was desperate; repeating the phrase like a mantra.

So many choices. You are truly one of a kind. "Slytherin!"

Malfoy's eyes were wide again as he stared at her while she could do nothing but blink owlishly at him. "How fortunate the two of you would be sorted into the same house!" Dippet mused, giving them both a smile as he handed the hat back to Pringle who in turn placed it back on the shelf. He looked between the two of them and smiled. "I believe you both should do well there."

"Thank you," they said in unison.

He nodded at them. "I'll make adjustments to the dorms and I'll have either the Head Boy or your prefects show you to them when they're ready. Pringle, please escort them to the dungeons."

They followed the caretaker silently. He was a nice change of pace from Filch. He pointed out things on their way to the dungeons, but neither of them was listening. When they approached the bare stone wall that was the entrance of the common room, Pringle said the password that revealed the passage. Mandrake Root.

"This is the common room," he said once they stepped in.

Hermione felt the hairs at the back of her neck raise. She chalked it up to the fact that she was out of place. It was nothing like the Gryffindor common room. Here there was stone and cold instead of the various tapestries and warmth. The fireplaces gave off a dull green hue and the water from the Black Lake above them threw strange shadows on the walls.

"Boys dorms are to the left, girls to the right. Seventh Years usually share four to a room, but I'm sure you'll find yourself in a room of five. I won't know which room until Headmaster makes the adjustments."

"Are these the transfers?"

Hermione went rigid and a slow shudder crawled up her spine. Another student came into view and it was clear that it was his presence that caused her unease; not the room. He looked familiar and when his eyes slid over her from head to toe, she felt the bile rise in her throat.

"Both of them made it into Slytherin," Pringle announced

"Welcome home," the student said, his eyes boring into hers. "I would be happy to give them the tour, Pringle."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, your duties are far too important."

He smiled and then nodded at the trio. "Welcome to Hogwarts, young ones. See you later, Tom."

Tom.

Hermione swallowed; her throat tight. The important thing that eluded her memory was coming back to her. It was right beneath the surface, yet kept slipping out of reach.

He reached a hand out to them, ready for whoever would grasp it first. Malfoy did and they shook hands. "Draco Malory. This is Harmony Granger. We're from Durmstrang."

His eyes darkened. "How delightful."

Malfoy's hand dropped and Hermione stretched her arm out as her politeness superseded her desire not to touch him. Instead of a hand shake, he brought her hand upwards to his lips.

"And you are?" Malfoy asked.

"Forgive me. I'm your Head Boy. Tom Riddle. Pleasure to meet you both."

Malfoy stiffened tenfold at her side and Hermione thought she might spew vomit all over the stone floor. It was all she could do not to yank her arm back and curse him where he stood. His eyes flickered towards Malfoy when he stepped in front of her protectively, forcing Riddle to drop her hand.

Her head spun. She didn't know which was worse. Malfoy coming to her rescue or Voldemort's lips on her hand in greeting.

"Shall we proceed with the tour? I've already had my class for the morning so I'll be free until this afternoon. It is a rather large castle, but we'll have plenty of time to see what you need before lunch even. May I see your schedules?"

Malfoy handed his over first and then took Hermione's when she produced it.

"Perfect, we share the same taste in subjects. It seems the three of us have almost identical schedules. Though it looks like it's just you and I for Astronomy, Miss Granger. This should be a very quick tour. Follow me."

Never in her life had Hermione ever thought she would be so grateful to Malfoy's presence. Out of fear, she reached for his hand as if he were Ron or Harry. She nearly wept in gratitude as he not only let her lace their fingers together, but squeezed her hand as if he needed her touch as much as she needed his in that moment. He looked at her and she knew whatever their differences were, they both shared a common fear.

She inclined her head to let him know she returned his sentiment. For all his faults, including the Dark Mark beneath his sleeve, she knew that he was just as out of place and scared as she was. They were in this together; like it or not.