A Crack in Time

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

SUMMARY: When the girl fell from the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, it was not the most bizarre thing that had happened within Hogwarts. It was, however, the most profound. When she fell from those magic clouds the entire castle shook, and nothing was ever the same, especially for Tom Marvolo Riddle.

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Chapter 2: The Butterfly Effect

"As if you could kill time without inuring eternity." –Henry David Thoreau

Hermione Granger burst into tears when she woke to the peering form of Albus Dumbledore standing over her hospital cot. He was much younger than she had remembered, but that was to be expected. As she struggled to breathe between the heavy sobs only one thought ran through her mind, over and over, like a broken record. What have I done? What have I done?

As the nurse, Madam Pomfrey (Hermione couldn't believe her eyes), came to her side to calm her with soothing words and discreetly slip her a calming draught. As the potion took its effect, Hermione began to clear her mind. She assessed her situation.

She felt sore physically and hollow emotionally. She stared at the extremely young Poppy Pomfrey—she looked to be about twenty years old. She knew that the Headmaster was waiting for her patiently. Wait. He's still professor. She corrected herself mentally. His beard was not as silvery, and still held a few strands of red. It wasn't as long as she remembered. But his eyes were still that same twinkling blue. And it caused both her heart to flutter and constrict with joy and grief.

Albus Dumbledore would die a horrific death and poor Harry would watch it helplessly.

But now…Hermione felt the tears prick her eyes again. Now, everything would change and the future was uncertain unless she found a way home again. Her very presence would be the catalyst of the altering a presumably set destiny.

"Tell me child, what is your name?" Hermione nearly choked at the sound of his voice. It was real. This was not a dream; and she was so disappointed it wasn't a dream, because the reality of her situation was the worst sort of nightmare she could possibly think of.

"Hermione." She muttered through her streaming tears.

"Where are you from, Hermione?"

Closing her eyes, and questioned her options. Should she lie? Should she tell the truth? Both had its pros and cons. She glanced at Madam Pomfrey. Hermione knew that if she had to tell someone, Dumbledore would be her best chance at returning home. But it had to be in solitude, where no one else would learn about her origins.

"Poppy will you leave, please."

"Of course, Professor," the nurse nodded and exited to the office. Hermione observed that she had never been so passive in her time. She must have been newly hired. Dumbledore only smiled and looked at her expectantly.

Swallowing, she began her tale.

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Tom waited until the Transfiguration Professor left (finally, after nearly four hours) before he entered the hospital ward. The girl seemed to be dozing off as he approached her cot. He was being as silent as he could, but the girl had her wand out (from where, he could not tell) and pointed at him in an instant. He froze, as did she. A growing look of horror was slowly creepy over her face.

The wand was lowered, but still directed at him he noticed, "Sorry, reflex."

"Rather paranoid reflex I believe," he commented in return smoothly.

The girl's face flushed, "Why are you here?"

Strange, Tome thought, that she would ask the why before the who. He voiced his thoughts, and smirked as her blush deepened. "And wouldn't it be more appropriate for me to ask you that question? After all, you did fall from the enchanted ceiling."

She coughed slightly and looked away, "Yes, well…I'm not exactly sure what happened but it must be because of a faulty portkey. I was meant to arrive in Professor Dumbledore's office."

Tom pondered this answer and found that though it was vague, he could sense any lie behind it. He nodded and he forced an easy smile onto his face, "Well, anyhow, I'm Tom Riddle, the Head Boy."

He held his hand out. She visibly stiffened, which Tom thought odd, considering most girls melted at the chance to brush arms with him in the hallway. Tom shifted slightly, but held his hand out for the awkward minutes that the girl simply stared at him. Then she hesitantly took his hand, "Hermione, transfer student."

"Hermione…" He prodded for the last name, but as she was about to open her mouth, they were rudely interrupted.

"What do you think you are doing? It's past curfew, young man!" Madam Poppy Pomfrey came out of her office, and Tom bit his tongue to prevent himself from cursing her.

"I'm Head Boy. I was doing my rounds." He lied easily.

"Well," the nurse huffed, "Miss Hermione needs her rest. Leave, now."

Tom pretended not to notice the expression of relief on Hermione's face as he left the hospital ward.

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