A/N: Welcome to another new story! I wrote this for the very first Tomione Fest put on by Tomione Fanfics FB group! Thanks to the amazing Sandra-Sempra for the cover piece! See that amazing cover over on my Tumblr where I post every time I update at crochetawayhpff.

I struggled a lot with this story when I wrote it and I basically started and finished it all within the month of December. With that in mind, it needs some work and since the fest is over, I'll be cleaning it up now. So no major plot changes, just some rewriting to make things clearer. If you don't prefer to wait while I do that, read the un-cleaned-up version now over on AO3. I'll be updating there on the same timetable as here, which will be every other week until it's done.

This story is AU. No really AU. So AU that Tom Riddle was born in 1975, not 1926. And since it was for a fest, I had a prompt to follow which was:

"Salazar Slytherin managed to keep Hogwarts free of muggleborns. Tom Riddle Jr. never attended Hogwarts and decided he was robbed of the chance and sought to change the status quo.

Muggleborn Hermione is brought into an underground world of wizardry as she comes of age. When she is old enough to fight, she meets the ruthless soldier of the Light and is helplessly drawn to him."

I had several people help with this fic when I thought I had lost my way, both emdani and AuroraStClaire provided excellent Alpha services and brownlark42 was not only Alpha, but she beta'd this chapter too!

This story is rated M mostly for some graphic violence and adult language. If those aren't your cup of tea and you've made it all the way through the authors note to here, congrats and maybe turn back now. Otherwise, as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

It was the possibility of darkness that made the day seem so bright.
-Stephen King

Hermione Granger grinned as the plate she was levitating lowered gently into the sink. She was getting better at this. It was Hermione's sixteenth birthday, and she had been working on her 'kinetic abilities' since she was twelve. She had never met anyone else like her, but she'd always been able to do unusual and surprising things with her mind.

Her parents thought it was something she had grown out of, and Hermione let them believe that. She had seen how disturbed they were when she had rescued her cat from a tree at thirteen. She closed her eyes now as she thought back to the memory.

Concentrating hard on Satchel and removing him from the tree, he began to levitate. He squirmed in her invisible grasp, but Hermione clamped down tighter on him and was able to control his descent. About a meter off the ground, Satchel let out a loud 'merow' that broke her concentration. Hermione whirled around with a huge grin, ready to brag about her new abilities, but Hermione's mum stood in the doorway with a horrified expression on her face. One look at her mum's face stopped Hermione in her tracks. She decided then that she would never show off to her mum again.

Keeping her abilities a secret from her parents and everyone else, didn't mean she avoided using them. She tried new ideas all the time, whether it was moving things about or changing objects from one thing to another. One year, her parents had given her a Spice Girls bedding set for Christmas. Hermione hated the Spice Girls. Fueled by teenage frustration, she concentrated hard and was able to change the comforter into a 5ive one she'd seen at Marks and Spencer. She shivered as she remembered what her abilities had done to Eleanor Duncan.

Hermione was fifteen and Eleanor Duncan had stolen her homework, again. Eleanor was always stealing Hermione's homework and claiming it as her own, infuriating Hermione and making her do double work. On this day, Hermione followed Eleanor home, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Eleanor had ducked down an alley, which Hermione knew was a shortcut to the back garden of her house.

Hermione concentrated and was pleased when the invisible wall she imagined in her mind appeared. Eleanor walked right into it, bloodying her nose and falling to the ground.

"Hermione?" Eleanor questioned. "What's going on?"

"You've stolen from me for the last time," Hermione told the other girl. She imagined the girl in the most pain imaginable and smiled when Eleanor started screaming. The other girl writhed on the ground, her muscles tightening and loosening as if she were having a fit. Hermione stopped the flow of magic.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"P-please stop," Eleanor had begged. "St-stop, it-it hurts so much," she cried, snot running from her nose.

Hermione grinned viciously and began making her hurt once more. She wanted to teach Eleanor a lesson: nobody messed with Hermione Granger.

Eleanor was babbling incoherently by the time Hermione ended the pain a second time. Hermione dragged the other girl to the garden so she wouldn't be hit by a passing automobile and walked home. Hermione never saw Eleanor again. There had been some rumors around school that she'd gone insane and her parents had to commit her. Hermione felt a little guilty, but it was the first real indication of how powerful she might be. It made her want to learn more.

Her abilities were amazing in every sense of the word. She'd never hurt anyone after Eleanor Duncan, even thinking about it now, made her uneasy and uncomfortable. She shook her head to remove the memories.

Hermione loved trying new things, she had been working on her abilities in secret for four years and was dying to know if there were other people like her out in the world. She couldn't be the only person with talents like this.

However, Hermione wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to expose her skills to the public without being able to protect herself. If she went to a news outlet, she'd be accused of insanity or fraud, or she'd be targeted as a human lab rat.

But if she always hid, how would she find out if there were others like her?

Hermione was startled from her reverie by a knock on the door. It was just after breakfast and her parents were gone already to their surgery. When she opened the door, she found two oddly dressed people standing on her doorstep. Standing before her was a woman with long, dark auburn hair and bright green eyes who was wearing a long deep purple cloak. Behind her stood a tall man with a hooked nose and greasy black hair, dressed entirely in black.

"Hermione Granger?" the woman asked as she stepped forward into the doorway.

"Y-Yes," Hermione replied taking a step back.

"Are you here alone?" the woman asked. The man stood quietly, scanning the street behind them, his hands tucked into his long cloak.

Hermione didn't know what was happening and wanted to lie and say her parents are upstairs. She glanced behind her as if she was checking for someone deeper in the house.

"No-"

"She's alone," the man said silkily and pushed them forward and into the house.

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked, taken aback by their forthrightness.

The man took out a long, thin stick of wood and raised it, "Hominem revelio," he muttered. Nothing happened. The man looked at Hermione, "You're the only one here."

The woman nodded and closed the front door. She grasped Hermione's left arm and tugged her along, "We're going to need tea."

Hermione guided the strange duo to the kitchen where she started tea. She had no reason to trust either of these people, but she felt strangely at home with them.

The tea was made, and Hermione turned to find the couple sitting at her kitchen table, whispering to each other.

"So…" Hermione began, giving them a chance to start.

"You're a witch," the woman stated.

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione asked. It was insulting to barge into someone's home and begin calling her names.

"Lily," the man groaned and pinched the bridge of his over large nose.

"Sorry, I should start at the beginning. I always just want to get to the point," Lily replied.

"Do you find that you can do strange things? Things your family and friends can't? Things that are hard to explain?" the man asked.

Hermione didn't respond. With a glance, she lifted the teapot with her mind and poured the man a cup. She pushed it toward him without moving.

"Holy shit," Lily whispered. "We knew you had power, but that is impressive. Sev, did you see that?" Lily turned and looked at the man, Sev, apparently. Hermione grinned at the awe in her voice and looked at Lily's companion.

Sev didn't look that impressed, and Hermione's ego immediately deflated.

"Is it magic? Is that why you called me a witch?" Hermione asked. She was suddenly brimming with questions. "What's that stick? Are you both witches too? Can you do magic? Can you show me?"

"Gods, she's just like you," Severus grumbled. "I'm Severus Snape, and this is my wife, Lily. Yes, we can both do magic. This," he held up the bit of wood again, "is a wand and allows you to feel and channel your magic. It's typical for a Muggle-born to be able to do the odd thing here or there. Close a door from across the room, stir their tea, acts that need little power or control. It appears you have a great deal more control than that."

"Muggle-born? Is that what I am? What's a Muggle?" Hermione asked. She'd been calling it her kinetic abilities, but magic resonated in a way that kinetic energy didn't. Everything she'd read about the physics of kinetic energy — or even parapsychological abilities like telekinesis — didn't quite describe what she was able to do.

"A Muggle is a non-magical person, like your parents. Sev here is a half-blood. His mum was a pure-blood witch, and his father was a Muggle. I'm Muggle-born like you." Lily paused, thinking. "There's a complicated backstory, but we're part of a community called the Under. We contact other Muggle-borns when they turn sixteen and see if they want to join our world. Sometimes they don't, especially if they don't have much magic. But most of the time they do," Lily explained. "And you have more power and control than I had at your age, and without a wand too. It's very impressive."

"Yes," Hermione responded without missing a beat. "Yes, I want to be part of your world. Can we leave now? Should I call my parents?"

Lily tossed her head back and laughed, "I was the same way when Sev's mum came for me. Let's start with a tour of the Under, and we'll go from there. Your parents may be...less than accepting. Mine certainly were. We can bring you back tonight and discuss with your parents then."

Hermione nodded, "I'm ready, let's go."

"I like that she's eager," Lily commented to Severus. "Alright, let's go. We're going to travel via Apparition. It's a bit jarring at first, but you get used to it. Grab hold of my arm, please. Don't let go."

Hermione looped her arm through Lily's and without warning felt like she was sucked through a small tube and spit back out again. It happened so abruptly she wasn't sure it happened at all, but her mum's kitchen had been replaced with a vast, colorful underground street. It reminded her of an old sewer, with brick on all sides and a tall brick ceiling arching overhead. Shops and pubs lined the road, and most only stood one or two stories tall.

"Where are we?" Hermione breathed as she took a moment to look around. It was fantastic.

"The Under," Severus grunted. "It's where we live. Well... some of us." He said the last bit so quietly Hermione almost didn't hear it.

"Everyone magical lives here? This is amazing!" Hermione enthused. Gladrags Wizard Wear was fascinating enough, but she could barely stop herself from running into the bookstore Flourish and Blotts. It was amazing.

"Come along; we have a lot to discuss," Lily said as she guided Hermione forward down the street. People waved and greeted Lily and Severus and smiled warmly at Hermione. She'd never had a lot of friends and her abilities — her magic, she amended — had made distance herself from other people. These strangers made her feel more welcome than any time she could remember

"Mum! Dad!" A black-haired boy ran up to them. He had the messiest hair she had ever seen and brilliant green eyes that matched Lily's, except they were hidden behind a round pair of spectacles. "Is this her?" The boy pointed at Hermione and gave her a broad grin. Hermione took a step back at his enthusiasm. Nobody was ever that enthusiastic to meet her.

"It is," Severus drawled.

"Merlin, I've been dying to meet you! I'm Harry," Harry said as he stuck his hand out for her to shake. Hermione tentatively shook it, and he pulled her in for a half hug.

"Er, why does he know who I am? And come to think of it, why do you know who I am? How do you find Muggle-borns to begin with?" Hermione was a little wary of asking too many questions, she'd been scolded in the past after all for asking too many, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"Oh! We stole the registry. Or rather, they did," Harry pointed at his parents and grinned again.

"What registry?" Hermione asked. Each answer made her think of at least three more questions.

"Oh, it's so neat! Can we show her?" Harry asked Severus. At Severus' very minute nod, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and took off down the street. Hermione quickly followed him, and they ended up in front of a gothic building that looked a lot like Hermione's old primary school.

"Here's where the half-bloods go to school, and where you'll go to school now too! Come on, the registry is inside," said Harry as he pulled her through the doorway.

They bounded through the halls of the school until they came to an elaborate double doorway.

"Glenmorangie," Harry whispered at the doors, which swung open into a huge office. The old woman behind the desk was wearing a cone-shaped hat that made Hermione think of a classic witch's costume.

"Hi, Grandmum," Harry said. "This is Hermione. I'm showing her the registry. Hermione, this is Professor Minerva McGonagall. She's my dad's mum and runs the school."

"Hello, ma'am," Hermione nodded politely.

"Welcome, Miss Granger. Harry, you know where the registry is kept. Best go find it and get back to your parents so they can finish filling Hermione in on all the necessary details."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said smartly. He pulled Hermione after him, and they left McGonagall's office.

"Why'd we go in there if the registry is somewhere else?" Hermione asked. She was getting a bit annoyed by being pulled along by this boy.

"Just wanted to introduce you to grandmum," Harry shrugged, "she's not my real grandmum. Dad's mum was a pure-blood and abandoned him after she got up the duff by a Muggle. His dad didn't want anything to do with him, so grandmum took him in and raised him. Grandmum's a good sort," Harry babbled as he started descending stairs.

Hermione wondered what this business was with pure-bloods, half-bloods, and Muggle-borns. Everyone kept throwing out these terms, and she wasn't sure she completely understood them all yet.

It was hard to tell because everything was underground, but they must have descended five or six floors before Harry finally stopped and pulled her in front of another set of intricately carved doors. He pushed them open, this time without whispering a password and Hermione laid her eyes on one of the biggest library's she had ever seen. It was at least three floors, perhaps more. The ceiling curved above, and there were flameless sconces along each of the walls.

"Oh, my god," Hermione breathed as she walked in and turned around to take it all in. Its beauty and size were breathtaking. Immense, wood bookshelves stood all through the library, each of them filled to the brim with books.

"Gods," Harry corrected. "Muggles worship a god, but magic folk recognize the old gods."

Hermione nodded, indicating she heard him, but the enthusiastic boy was secondary to the vast number of books in front of her. She could camp here and never leave, and she'd be happy for the rest of her life. As she made another turn, gazing upward, she ran into someone.

"Oof," Hermione grunted. She stumbled, but the other person reached out and grabbed her elbows to steady her. She turned to thank him and fell into the most interesting set of dark blue eyes she'd ever seen.

"Sorry," she muttered, but couldn't move or look away. Hermione was drawn to the beautiful man holding her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his dark, wavy hair and midnight blue eyes that glittered out from behind long, dark lashes. Hermione was positive his cheekbones were so sharp they could cut glass. And his mouth looked warm and sensual, and Hermione wondered what it would feel like to kiss.

"Who's this, then, Potter?" the man asked, but didn't take his arms off of Hermione. He seemed as enthralled as she was, his eyes not leaving her face.

"This is Hermione Granger! The newest Muggle-born who's turned sixteen. She's wicked powerful according to the registry. Haven't seen her do anything yet, though," Harry said. "Hermione, this is Tom Riddle. He's a few years older than us and the leader of the Under."

"The leader?" Hermione asked.

Tom seemed to shake himself, and he offered her a smirk, "That's me."

He stepped away from Hermione, and she suddenly felt bereft. She shook herself and stepped away from Tom, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face. This was such a strange place. She barely knew anyone, but already felt a strong kinship with everyone.

"We're showing her the registry, Tom. Have you seen her entry?" Harry asked as he pulled Hermione forward once more.

In the middle of the room stood a pedestal with a huge book on it. The book was open to the center, and she could see it was full of names and dates and what looked like some sort of runic letters. It was not in a language she knew or understood.

Harry stepped up to the book and beckoned Hermione to stand next to him. He trailed his finger down the page and found her name quickly, right in the middle. 'Hermione Jean Granger, born September 19, 1979, current age 16'. Then four of those letters that Hermione didn't recognize.

"What are those?" she pointed to the four letters. She stiffened as she felt Tom stand behind her and look over her shoulder. She was petite, and Tom had at least a head of height on her.

"They're runes. That one's Gebo," Harry said pointing to an X. "It shows your magical gift, and see, your's is dark, nearly black. It means you have a lot of magic. You are…surprising."

Hermione glanced at some of the other Gebo runes on the page. Harry was right: her's was one of the darkest.

"Is everyone magical in this book?" Hermione asked. She had begun to relax a bit, despite knowing that Tom was standing so close behind her.

"Everyone that matters," Tom muttered, and he shuffled closer to Hermione. She turned to look at him, but he was studying the book in front of them. She turned back to the book to avoid staring.

"I'm not great at runes," Harry said. "I know Gebo because everyone has that one. Sometimes that's all people have. It's rare that you have four and that they are so dark. The book is charmed to show runes that correspond to your magic levels and unique bits of your personality.

"That one's Eihwaz. I know that one because I have it too," Harry said pointing to another rune. This one looked like it was a quaver musical note, with the stem up, but instead of the ball at the bottom of the note, it was a line. "It signals strength and trustworthiness. It looks as dark as mine."

"That one is Algiz," Tom murmured in her ear, pointing to the third rune. It was a Y with the middle point going up through the V on top. "It means protection."

Hermione shivered. The sound of his voice in her ear was doing something to her that she wasn't sure she recognized. It excited her.

"And the last is Dagaz, meaning awakening or breakthrough," Tom breathed and pointed to the final rune. An X between two straight lines. Hermione shivered again and swayed on her feet, her back touching Tom's chest. One of his hands drifted to her hip to steady her.

Hermione breathed deeply and opened her eyes to look at the page again. She was the only one on it with four runes.

"What does it mean?" Hermione asked.

"It means you're special. It means we need you," Harry said, grave for the first time.

Tom squeezed her hip briefly and stepped away from her and the book.

"Talk to Severus and Lily, Harry. Get them to convince her to stay. She'll be important in the fight. We have two years to get her ready," Tom said gruffly and walked out of the library.

Hermione felt lost again when he stepped away. She buried the feeling and stepped back from the book to look at Harry.

"I have a lot of questions," she stated.

Harry threw his head back and laughed, his green eyes twinkling, "I bet you do. Let's go find mum and dad."

They trekked back through the school and ran into Lily and Severus near the kitchens. It was close to lunchtime and Severus cooked them up a small meal while Lily talked. By the time Lily and Severus were ready to bring Hermione back home, her head was crammed full of knowledge about the two worlds she now belonged.

The Under and the Upper. She was in the Under because she was Muggle-born. The Upper was only for pure-bloods, which were only those who could trace their magical lineage back twelve generations. Hermione wasn't sure she could even figure out how many 'great's' twelve generations back was.

They told her about the schooling she would need and how half-bloods spent their lives in the Under. Half-bloods spent the last two years of their education bringing the Muggle-borns of their age up to date. Hermione had two years to learn how to use a wand and connect with her magic. She only had two years to prepare for role in the imminent fight against the Upper.

"It was never supposed to be like this," Severus said bitterly. "We're all the same. We have to hide from Muggles for obvious reasons, but we shouldn't be hiding from each other. And we're going to change that once and for all."

Hermione was in. She was made for this world; she could feel it in her bones. It didn't matter if her parents agreed. She would go live in the Under, permission or not. Running away was common for Muggle-borns.

She was worried about Tom Riddle. Even hours later lying in her bed trying to fall asleep, she could feel his hand give her hip a light squeeze. It felt delicious and heavenly, and she wanted more.