Warnings: Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Accidental Animagus Transformations, Mentions of character death

Disclaimer: This creation is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offense is intended.

Notes: Many thanks to Krissy and Kyriecolors for being my wonderful betas Written for the 2015 Creature Fest on LJ. I hope you all enjoy this. xx

There Are Many Paths to Tread

"Professor, I understand what I need to do," Hermione said for what she felt was the hundredth time. "I understand that there's no coming back."

Professor Dumbledore peered at her over his half-mooned spectacles. He frowned. "Miss Granger, it isn't too late to change your mind."

She closed her eyes, shaking her head. Going back to stop Voldemort… It was the only thing that would prevent all the people she knew and loved from dying. "I've already made my choice, sir," she said firmly.

"Very well," Professor Dumbledore said. "I'll return in a moment."

Hermione's chest ached as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to do this. She knew that she had no choice. With Harry dead, there was no way they'd be able to defeat the Dark Lord now unless she tried.

They were out of options. This was the only viable one left.

"Hermione," Arthur, one of the few living Order members, said softly, placing his hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to do this."

She looked up at the man she had grown to think of as a second father and smiled weakly. "I have to." Her voice was but a whisper, and she felt as if she would burst into tears at any moment.

Arthur pulled Hermione into a tight hug. "Please, take care of yourself, Hermione. I hope that we meet again someday."

"I hope so too, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said, stepping out of his embrace. She turned to Professor McGonagall, a woman she had respected and admired greatly over the past few years. "Professor McGonagall."

The Scottish woman had tears in her eyes. "Keep yourself safe, Hermione." She pulled the younger witch in for a hug. "I, too, hope that we meet again."

Hermione could feel the tears spill down her cheeks. She hugged her professor tighter, burying her face into the older witch's robes. "Thank you for everything, Professor," she said softly, peering upwards. Clearing her throat, she stepped out of Professor McGonagall's embrace.

Turning towards Dumbledore who had just returned, Hermione saw that he was holding a time turner in his hands. Taking a deep breath and bracing herself for what was about to do, she stepped towards him.

"Miss Granger," he greeted her. "Thank you for what you're doing."

Hermione turned red. She didn't want to be thanked for this… For going back in time to murder someone, even if that person was Lord Voldemort himself. The very thought was making her stomach churn, but there was no other choice. Voldemort needed to be stopped.

Reaching out, she took the time turner and placed it around her neck. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she felt as if it might burst from her ribcage.

Hermione held it up, and turned the hourglass the number of times that she and Dumbledore had calculated. Would she survive the journey? The thought had crossed her mind, but she didn't give it much thought until now.

It's too late for second thoughts, she thought herself as she stared at her former Professors and Mr. Weasley before they disappeared from sight.

Hermione groggily sat up, rubbing her head as she did so. Looking around, she saw that she was in the Headmaster's office. It was different from Professor Dumbledore's; it didn't have any of the knickknacks and various items that filled the office during his time as Headmaster. The office was seemingly bare. Everything around her led her to believe that she was in the 1940s, but she couldn't be sure. She needed more proof.

Looking at the time turner, she saw that the hourglass was cracked. She knew that there was little chance that she would have been able to return to the future, and this just proved it. She was stuck in this era.

Standing up, Hermione made her way towards the door. She carefully crept her way down the stairs, heading through the halls. She needed to make it to the Room of Requirement, where she could plan out her next move.

She groaned, not quite having thought the whole ordeal through. Just how was she going to kill Voldemort? Avada him at first sight? Poison him?

"Who's there?" a voice shouted from behind her.

Eyes widened, Hermione panicked. No one could see her! Grasping her wand, she held it tightly trying to think of what to do. Think, Hermione, think! She thought quickly. I've got a brain full of spells, pick one!

There was a flash of bright light and Hermione closed her eyes, cringing. She opened them a moment later, founding that she was much short than she had been moments earlier. Looking around, she spotted her wand on the ground next to her. She reached out to take it and froze.

Instead of having a hand, she had a paw.

Oh sweet Merlin! She opened her mouth to speak, but all she could hear was squeaks.

"An otter?" the same voice from earlier spoke out.

Hermione froze, looking up and staring into the face of Tom Riddle. She squeaked, backing up to no avail – he reached down and picked her up.

"What is an otter doing inside of Hogwarts?" he asked, peering at her. He held her up towards his face, and Hermione realised suddenly that he had warm, brown eyes. "Are you someone's pet?"

Hermione squeaked at him, shouting at him to put her down, but he didn't. Instead, Riddle smiled. "Well, I think I'll care for you until we figure out what to do with you." He tucked her into his bag and began to walk, Hermione jostling inside of the dark bag.

Her heart raced as she tried to figure out what happened and how. I somehow transformed into an otter? How is that even possible? I never studied to become an Animagus…

She cringed as one of Riddle's books jabbed into her sides.

"Sorry about this," Riddle said, his voice muffled slightly. "I don't want anyone else to see you. We're almost to my dorm."

My wand! Hermione screeched, trying to get out of the bag. Her wand was on the hallway floor! She needed to find it, before someone else did.

Oh Merlin, this is an absolute disaster.

Moments later, Hermione was dumped out of the bag onto a large bed. Looking around, she saw that she was in someone's bedroom, presumably Riddle's.

Tom stared down at the otter on his bed. He wasn't quite sure what possessed him to pick the creature up, but he was glad he did. The poor thing looked to be in quite a panic.

"Calm down," he said, holding his hands up. "I'm not going to hurt you, beautiful." He reached out to pet the otter, withdrawing his fingers quickly as the otter tried to bite him.

"Well, let me run my bath for you so you can stay in there. After dinner, I'll head to the kitchens and grab you some food." Tom turned, heading towards his bathroom.

Hermione floated in Riddle's bathtub, at a loss for what to do. She had already tried to leave, but as she couldn't open the door, she was trapped.

I wish I had my wand, she thought, frowning as best an otter could. But even then, it wouldn't do me much good as I don't even know what spell I cast to turn me into an otter.

She dove under water, her body twisting and turned as she swam in the tub. Riddle had expanded it with magic, allowing her more room to swim. As much as she hated her situation, she decided that being an otter wasn't too bad.

I need to focus on the mission at hand. She glanced at her claws. Perhaps I can attack Riddle when he least expects it?

She trembled. Could she really kill someone with her bare hands – er – claws? She frowned. No.

The door opened and Riddle walked in. "I've brought you some clams from the kitchens." He placed them on the edge of the tub. "I can't stay as I've got a meeting with my frien— followers, but I'll return once business has been taken care of." He turned and left, leaving Hermione alone and confused once more.

Hermione reminded herself that she was Voldemort's captive and that she was in a terribly grave situation, but until she figured out what to do or if the spell wore off… there wasn't much she could do.

Her stomach growled. At least there was some food to eat.

The days began to blur and Hermione lost track of time. Every day, Riddle would come in and speak with her and then give her something to eat.

He never talked about anything important. It was always about homework, teachers, or classmates. They were things that any normal seventh year would have talked about, and at some moments, Hermione was almost fooled by his seemingly innocent aura.

But she knew better. She knew that beneath his calm and collected exterior lurked a monster.

Hermione hated that she couldn't respond to him. She wanted to curse him, and make him hurt for everything he'd ever done to her and her loved ones.

But more than anything, she hated that she was trapped as an otter, helpless to her current situation. No matter how many times she tried to escape, it never worked. There were strong wards protecting the head's dorm.

She felt as if she were going mad, trapped inside her own mind.

Tom entered his room, flopping down onto his bed. He was utterly exhausted from trying to train all those idiots the Unforgivable spells. He heard a scratching at the bathroom door and stood. Walking over, he opened the door and let her out. "You can roam around for awhile."

She padded out, exploring the room. Tom frowned. "Is it even worth it?" The otter stopped, looking at him before returning to her own business. "I'm so far from attaining my dream."

He groaned, closing his eyes. It was days like today when he doubted everything he had been working for. He had pushed the Pureblood dream, selling it to those Pureblood idiots who called themselves his followers, but something wasn't right. None of it felt as good as he had thought it would.

Something nudged Tom's foot, gaining his attention. He saw that it was his otter. He had yet to name her, but somehow, calling her 'girl' or 'beautiful' sufficed. She had stopped biting him, so he assumed that she had gotten used to him.

"We've been together for four months already, girl. Can you believe it?" Tom reached out and patted the otter's head. "What a journey." He frowned. "What a waste of time."

The otter cocked its head at him, causing Tom to chuckle. "You must think I'm insane. I spend the majority of my time either in the library or talking with you." He paused. "I wish you could talk with me," he confessed quietly, allowing his otter to see him in a moment of weakness. "I can't converse with Dolohov or Malfoy… neither of them are intelligent enough to converse with me."

Tom sighed, sitting up. He had a Potion's essay that he needed to complete.

Hermione floated on her back in the tub, listening to the scratch of Tom's quill on paper. The revelation that she had been with him for four months had sent a shock through her. She had known it had been a long time, but she hadn't quite realised it had been that long.

I miss talking, she thought sadly, a frown on her face. I miss my wand and using magic. She had been attempting magic, but without a wand, it was nearly impossible. She was decent with nonverbal casting, but nonverbal and wandless? She wasn't that good.

She sank beneath the water, desperately wishing she could be human again.

Tom rubbed his otter behind her ear. "I don't know what I'm doing," he confessed quietly, his cheeks turning pink. "My followers think I have everything planned out, but the deeper we go, the less sure I am of my actions."

She nuzzled her head against his side.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Tom repeated, running his free hand through his hair. "I just… I didn't have a good childhood," he began, feeling the urge to explain his actions to his pet. It wasn't as if she could tell anyone…

"I was orphaned as an infant. I grew up in an old house full of unwanted children. My housemates were cruel. They teased me for being left there, even though the same had happened to them. They'd put worms in my bed… steal my clothes when I bathed… Those filthy Muggle children treated me horribly. The old woman who ran the orphanage hated me more than any of the children there. She'd hit me more than the others… I never knew why. By the time Dumbledore came to collect me, I was ready to make them all pay for what they'd done to me. They needed to suffer the pain that they put me through." He clenched his hands into fists, causing his otter to squeak. He let out a deep breath, tired of feeling terrible. Rolling over, he stared at her. "You've got beautiful brown eyes, beautiful." He smiled slightly. "Like mine almost." He petted her. "I'm glad I've got you, girl. I don't feel so lonely." Tom's eyes widened at his own admission.

His otter stared at him intensely, giving Tom the chills. "I suppose the reason I want to control everyone… my reason for revenge is just a need to be accepted. I don't want to be in that shitty situation ever again." Tom huffed. "I sound like an idiot talking to you, girl. Sorry, but you're just an otter." He closed his eyes. "Not that I could ever share this with anyone else. Things are too far in motion. There's no chance of me ever being accepted unless it was by force."

She nipped at his fingers, drawing blood. Tom huffed. "Let's just go to bed. You're welcome to stay here with me if you want." A small thrill of happiness spread throughout him as she curled into his side.

Almost like a cat, he mused before falling asleep.

Hermione curled deeper against Tom's side, trying to come to terms with the thoughts swarming through her mind. The longer she spent as an otter, the more she realised that her current situation might become permanent.

How was she supposed to turn back? She couldn't do magic, and she didn't even know how she ended up an otter. Was it an Animagus transformation gone wrong? A transfiguration? She couldn't even be sure.

She doubted Tom would realise that she wasn't an otter. He had no reason to suspect otherwise. She was a pet that he had become fond of… that was all.

Hermione sighed. She felt conflicted as she realised that she was starting to fall in love with Tom. Just thinking about it was absurd. Hermione knew that he was a terrible person… one that would come to commit many terrible crimes.

But he hasn't committed that many yet, her conscience reminded her. Was it possible that she could change the future in a different way?

Thinking back to her conversation, Hermione realised that Professor Dumbledore never explicitly said that she needed to kill Tom. He only said that someone should change the past. She had just assumed that he meant killing him, but now, she was considering other possibilities.

Hermione remembered that Harry always said that love was a powerful thing. It was something that Voldemort never understood, making it his weakness. What if I could teach him love? What if I could show him what it was like to be loved? Would that make a difference? Would that stop him from turning into Lord Voldemort? Or is it too late for that?

Hermione frowned. Still, she felt guilty. What would Harry or Ron say if they had known she traveled to the past, turned herself into an otter, and then fell in love with Voldemort? They'd tell her she was bonkers and have her committed to St. Mungo's, likely.

What am I going to do?

Tom snored, startling Hermione slightly. She relaxed after a moment, closing her eyes as she tried to fall asleep.

She didn't know why she was worrying about her feelings so much. She was stuck as an otter — it didn't matter if she loved him or not. However, she knew the truth no matter how much she tried to deny and avoid it.

She loved Tom Riddle.

Hermione watched as Tom read his potion's text, glancing at her every so often.

"You know, I don't know why they don't crush the Sopophorous beans in the Draught of Living Death as opposed to cutting them. You would think you'd get more juices from crushing." Tom frowned, taking his quill and scratching notes into the margins. "I'll need to research this at some point. I'm sure Professor Slughorn would allow me extra time in the lab if I asked."

She wondered if that was where Professor Snape had gotten the idea.

There was a knock on the door and before Tom could answer, someone stormed in. Hermione knew instantly that he was a Malfoy – the grey eyes and blonde hair gave him away.

"Malfoy," Tom snapped. "What do you want?"

"A few of us were wondering why you haven't called a meeting of late." Malfoy looked to Tom, a guarded expression on his face.

Hermione waited, her heart racing as she listened for Tom's response.

"That is none of your concern," Tom said, his voice dangerously low. "Now leave."

"But my Lord, many of us are eager to show you what we've learned in your absence."

"My absence?"

Malfoy pressed on, his eyes widening when he saw Hermione. She tried to hide beneath the bed, but he had already seen her. "Perhaps I could demonstrate on the otter?"

"You will not touch her!" Tom shouted angrily, her wand slashing through the air, sending a stinging hex towards Malfoy.

Hermione's eyes widened at Tom's burst of anger. "Don't even think of touching her," he growled angrily.

"It's just a stupid animal," Malfoy sneered, smoothing the front of his robes.

"No, she isn't, now leave." Hermione watched in shock as Tom raised his wand to curse his follower once more. The look of pure protectiveness on Tom's face sent thrills through Hermione. She had never expected him to defend her, but was incredibly pleased that he did. Her heart thrummed.

"You're insane," Malfoy spat angrily. "You best reconsider what you're doing, Riddle, before it's too late."

"You need to watch your tone," Tom hissed angrily. Raising his wand, he sent a curse that knocked Malfoy flat on his back. "Leave now, before I decide to do much worse."

Hermione watched as Malfoy scrambled to his feet and left. She turned her attention to Tom and saw that he looked furious. His expression softened towards her.

"Sorry, girl, are you alright?" Tom crouched down in front of her, reaching out to pet her. Hermione purred in pleasure. "I hope he didn't frighten you." Tom smiled weakly at her.

No, it was refreshing to see you give a Malfoy a piece of your mind, Hermione thought. She turned and strutted towards the bathroom. She needed to spend some time in the water before heading to bed with Tom.

Hermione still couldn't believe how protective Tom had been of her. During her time with him, she had seen a side of him that she was certain no one else had ever seen. He was unguarded around her, allowing her in when he had pushed other people away.

Once more, she desperately wished that she could be human once again.

Hermione's eyes jolted open as she gasped for breath. She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe?! Her hands reached up to her neck and she realised that there were a pair of hands around her neck.

Hands? I have hands! Her excitement was short lived as the hands tightened even further. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw Tom looking at her, a furious expression on his face.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. "What the fuck are you doing in my bed?"

Hermione's eyes began to water and she felt that her neck was surely going to be covered in bruises if she survived this. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. She pulled at his hands and tried to kick him off of her.

"Legilimens," Tom hissed, his eyes locking onto hers.

Hermione was helpless as he tore through her mind. He saw the fall of Hogwarts, Voldemort destroying Harry's body… He saw her mourning the death of her friends and family. He saw how she decided with Professor Dumbledore that she would return to the past to stop Voldemort. He saw how she had accidently turned herself into an otter and found herself at his mercy. But most of all, he saw how she had slowly fallen in love with him.

Tom withdrew from her mind, his hands going slack around her neck. Hermione gasped for breath, pushing him away from her as she struggled to sit up in his bed. It hurt to breathe, her eyes still watering from the pain.

"Is it true?" he asked, his voice low.

"Yes," she croaked. "All of it."

"You love me?"

She looked into his brown eyes. "I do," she whispered. Hermione knew that there was no point in denying it. Without her wand, she could only hope that Tom would have mercy on her. She hoped that he would… Hell, she didn't know what she hoped he'd do.

Tom conjured a glass of water and handed it to you. "Apologies," he said stiffly. "I… I didn't think."

Hermione drank the water, sighing as it cooled the burn in her throat. "I would have done the same if I awoke to a strange man in my bed."

Tom stared at her, his eyes narrowed as he considered her. "Your eyes are the same."

Hermione didn't reply, unsure of what to say. It felt as if it were a surreal moment.

"I can't kill you," Tom said flatly, his wand in his hands.

"I can't kill you either," Hermione replied. "I… I can't."

"You really love me? Even though you've seen what I'll become?" Tom pressed. He looked shocked, and Hermione knew that he probably didn't know how to process that type of information.

"I do," Hermione responded. "You know that I'm being honest, Tom." She bit her lower lip. "I've seen that you're different. I've seen a side of you that no one else has seen. I know it's not too late for you, Tom. You don't need to go down that path."

He didn't say anything.

"Tom, please, believe me. Not all Muggles are cruel. I'm a Muggleborn, and my parents are the kindest people I know. I have Muggleborn friends from my time at Hogwarts. They aren't all cruel."

"You're Muggleborn?"

Hermione lifted her chin. "Yes, I am. Don't my Muggle clothes give it away?" She gestured to her attire.

"I thought it was something witches wore in the future," Tom responded flatly. "Are you really a Muggleborn?"

"Yes," she repeated firmly. "I'm not ashamed of that. I know I'm a talented witch, even though my accidental transformation doesn't show that. I'm skilled with a wand, more so than some of the Purebloods in my year. I was a top student, and no, I never stole my magic from anyone else. I was born with it."

"I know," Tom replied. "I saw it in your memories." His hands clenched into fists. "I don't know what to do!" he shouted angrily. "I spilled my secrets to you… And now you're human? How am I supposed to deal with this?"

"How does your heart tell you to deal with it?" Hermione asked quietly. "Tom, you can find love and acceptance. You don't need to murder innocent people to become respected."

"My heart? Do I even have one?" Tom asked her. The look of confusion and anger on his face made her heart hurt. "I've thought of doing terrible things."

"It's never too late to change your path," Hermione pressed. "Please, Tom, believe me."

"I… This is absurd," Tom sputtered.

"Stranger things have happened," Hermione replied. Her heart raced as she noticed his eyes darken in what she hoped was desire.

"Damn it all," he growled, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. One of his hands cupped her cheek, the other tangling itself into her curls.

The kiss was everything Hermione had imagined the kiss to be. It was the best kind, the kind that sent a wave of pleasure throughout one's body… the kind that made your toes curl. She moaned, deepening the kiss.

Tom pulled back slightly, his eyes shimmering with confusion. "I shouldn't want you like this. It isn't right."

"We can make it right," Hermione replied, her hand reaching up and touching his face. "Tom, the life you lived in my timeline was no life at all. Don't you want something worthwhile? Don't you want a life that means something?"

He responded by resuming their kiss. His hands grasped the hem of her tee-shirt, pulling it up over her head. Tom ran his hands down her body, lightly squeezing her breasts. "Hermione," he moaned, closing his eyes. "It's… I can practically hear what your mind is screaming right now."

She flushed, having been caught thinking dirty thoughts. "Everything I'm thinking is true. I care for you, Tom. Please, let me in. Let me show you what it's liked to be loved."

Tom exhaled, his body relaxing fully. Gripping Hermione's hips, he rolled them so that she was now lying on top of him. "Show me."

Hermione sat up, thrilled that he had given her the power. She knew that he was submitting to her, and the thought of her attaining her goal of returning to the past, albeit in a different way than expected, filled her with such joy that she could barely contain herself. "Tom," she whispered, lowering her lips to his. She kissed him gently, teasingly, allowing him time to adjust to their new position.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his hands still resting on her hips. "Merlin, your eyes."

Blushing, Hermione reached behind and unclasped her bra. She removed it slowly, enjoying the way his eyes lit up at the sight of her naked torso. Reaching down, she quickly helped him out of his shirt.

Emitting a low growl, Tom grasped her head and pulled her down for a more passionate kiss. His hips thrust against hers as he groaned, and Hermione could feel his erection through her jeans.

"Please," she whimpered, feeling as though her skin was aflame. "Tom."

He grabbed his wand, using it to divest them of the rest of their clothing. Hermione let out a gasp as the cool air surrounded her body, causing her nipples to stiffen. Looking down, she saw that Tom's eyes were wide once more.

Hermione leant down, kissing her way down his body. She enjoyed the way he writhed as she kissed his stomach, showing that he was ticklish there. Within moments, she was near his cock. Reaching out, she took him into her hand, causing Tom to emit a sharp intake of breath. She opened her mouth, taking him in. She swirled her tongue around the tip before moving her mouth up and down his length.

Tom moaned, his hips arching off the bed slightly. He reached down, tangling one hand into her curls. "Hermione," he gasped as she gently cupped his sac.

Eager to please him, Hermione quickened her movements, sucking him with fervent passion. Every moan and gasp he emitted caused Hermione's heart to race.

"Hermione," he cried suddenly, pushing her away from him.

She released him, staring up at him in confusion. "Didn't you like that?" She blushed, hoping that she didn't just ruin the moment somehow.

"Sweet Merlin, I did, but if you keep going, I'm going to come." Tom's cheeks turned pink.

"Don't be embarrassed," Hermione said quickly. "Tom, you have no idea how incredibly sexy you look right now." She crawled up his body before slowly impaling herself on his cock.

"Shite," he cursed. "Oh, god, I had no idea that sex could feel this amazing."

Hermione blushed. She hadn't even started moving yet, and she realised suddenly that Tom was most likely a virgin. She leant forward, kissing his neck as she began to move slowly. He filled her perfectly, as if they had been made for each other.

"Faster," Tom pleaded. "Oh, Hermione, please, you feel amazing."

Hermione moved faster, gasping as Tom began to meet her thrusts. Her body warmed, and she gasped as she tried to keep ahold of her emotions. Love and hope bubbled within her, and she was sure that her mind was screaming it to the world.

"Hermione," Tom gasped, bombarded by her thoughts and the love she felt for him. He quickened his thrusts, his sac tightening.

She cried out as she shattered, her inner walls gripping him tightly. She increased her speed, riding out her orgasm in pleasure. Tom groaned, reaching his climax as well. The two moved against each other until they were spent.

Hermione lifted herself from him, collapsing onto the bed next to him. She was sweating profusely and saw that he was doing the same. "Tom," she whispered, utterly exhausted.

"Get some rest," Tom said, brushing some curls from her face. "We'll talk more in the morning." He pecked her on the lips, and she quickly fell into slumber.

Hermione lazily opened her eyes. She let out a sigh, recalling the previous night's events. Tom's arm was draped over her side, having fallen asleep while cuddling her. She was still alive, so it seemed that she had a fighting chance.

"Of course you do," Tom said quietly. "Good morning."

She sighed, rolling over to face him. "Please don't read my thoughts all the time."

"I'm sorry," Tom said quickly. "I… I'll try not to do it again." He offered her a brief smile. "I'm not used to this."

"Neither am I," Hermione replied quietly. She gazed into Tom's brown eyes. "Have you thought about it?"

Tom nodded. He reached up, brushing some hair from his eyes. "I meant what I said last night, Hermione. I want you to show me."

"You'll give it all up?" Hermione questioned, wanting to be sure.

"I will," Tom replied. "I… If love is anything what last night felt like, it certainly seems worth it."

"Love is worth it. It's always worth it," Hermione said, snuggling deeper beneath the covers. The air was cold, and she didn't fancy getting out of bed quite just yet. "But you have to swear it, Tom. That you'll stop planning to kill Muggles and Muggleborns and hanging around with your knights. Because if you do, you'll lose me." Her heart raced. "I'll stop you."

"I know you will," Tom said with a chuckle. "I can see you're well-fitted to Gryffindor, with your bravery and courage." He leant forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You have me fully convinced. I'll disband my knights this afternoon."

Hermione smiled momentarily, but it faltered. "I just can't help that this feels too good to be true."

"Oh, I agree," Tom said. "But I think all relationships feel that way at first. I think we just need to find out how much of a good thing this is." He moved closer to her, his hand resting on her hip.

"I'll need a new wand," Hermione said suddenly, frowning. "Do you think Ollivander will sell me one?"

"He won't need to." Tom smiled, looking quite pleased with himself. "Abraxas had found a wand in the hallway a few weeks ago, and he gave it to me for safekeeping. It has to be yours. Vine wood? About ten inches?"

"Yes," Hermione breathed, tears of joy in her eyes. "Oh, thank god."

Tom pressed his lips against hers, his hand sliding between her legs. Hermione moaned, fully anticipating a passionate repeat of the night before.

"Hermione, where is Eliza?" Tom asked, taking a seat near his wife at the Head Table.

"There," Hermione whispered, pointing out their eldest daughter. "Next to Charles Weasley."

Tom's eyes darkened. "Out of all the boys in her year, it had to be him."

Hermione smiled. "Of course it did. The Weasleys are nice people. You know that, Tom." In truth, Hermione was pleased that Eliza and Charlie had grown so close, as it allowed Hermione to get to know the Weasley family more. They were the family she had grown to love during her childhood, but even better without the stain of war to darken their lives.

"As long as Jacob steers clear of them, I'll be fine," Tom huffed. "I've seen what sort of trouble you used to get into with Potter and the youngest Weasley boy. I don't want him to be getting into trouble as well."

"Jacob is the same age as they are," Hermione reminded him. "Who knows, in a few years, Professor, you might be giving that trio detention."

Tom shook his head. "At least Jacob has two more years before he begins Hogwarts. Perhaps the youngest Malfoy would be a good friend for him."

"You can't decide who our children become friends with," Hermione chided her husband. "Now shhh," she said, watching as Headmaster Dumbledore stood to dismiss the student's to their rooms.

The Professors Riddle stood, eager to retire for the evening. Hermione glanced at Tom as they walked through the hallway where he had first found her in her Animagus form. She was grateful for that poorly conducted magic, as it allowed Hermione to get to know Tom better. She shuddered to think of what would have happened if he had seen her instead.

"All right?" he asked, reaching out and taking her hand.

"I'm fine," Hermione replied, smiling warmly at him. "Lost in thought."

"I love you," he said, bringing her hand to his lips. "What to do you say we open a bottle of wine and celebrate another beginning to a wonderful, new school year."

"I love you too, Tom," Hermione responded. "And wine sounds lovely."

Once more, Hermione was grateful that her trip to the past hadn't quite turned out the way she had expected it to. Regardless, everything worked out and it seemed that everyone finally had their own happy endings.