Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

Solutions

At approximately ten o'clock the following morning, Hermione sat before her old headmaster. He was much younger than she remembered him, and he sported a set of pale, periwinkle robes. His auburn hair and beard were flecked with the tiniest amount of gray. The office was also slightly less eccentric than she remembered.

Hermione met his eyes morosely. If Dumbledore didn't believe her, then there really was no hope for her plight.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Miss... Granger, is it?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

"You say Headmaster as if you were a former student of mine."

"Well," she said wryly. "I sort of... was."

His brows furrowed, and he looked down his half-moon spectacles at her for a closer inspection.

She sighed. "I don't even really know where to start with this conversation, to be honest."

"I suppose it would be wise to start at the beginning. That is where most things begin... the beginning."

She laughed. Her nerves were getting the best of her, and when faced with the need to put it all into words, the absurdity of it all was disheartening. "Well, it's all quite unbelievable, but I know if anyone would believe me, it's you, Headmaster."

His eyes were kind. " Do try me, Miss Granger."

She nodded, took a deep breath, and began. "Well, sir, I'm a time traveler. I didn't intend to be, but here I am. I was sent here by an enchanted object belonging to a Dark Lord. I did attend Hogwarts. I was in Gryffindor house. You and I, as well as my friends, were quite close, or so I'd like to believe. I don't want to say too much, and I don't know if my presence here will alter the timeline irreversibly or not. I hope that if it does, its for the better."

He nodded, thoughtful. "What year is it where you've come from?"

She took a deep breath. "1998, sir."

He leaned back in his chair, pensive. "Pray tell, what is the state of our world, in your time?"

She released her breath in degrees. "Well, sir, I'm afraid to say too much, but... there was war. It has only just ended. There was a dark wizard. My two friends and I, you gave us a mission, and we fulfilled that mission. We helped destroy this dark wizard." Hermione looked down at her hands. "But I was foolish and impulsive, and... emotional, I suppose, after the war ended. I should have turned the object into the ministry. But I wanted to examine it for its magical properties. And well... Here I am now. I didn't know the purpose of the object. I never would have chosen to travel back in time... It was purely unintentional."

He appeared very concerned. "This wizard must have been very powerful, to have created such an object. I am familiar with the magic of time and space. However, it has only just begun to be studied for all of its possibilities."

He leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him upon the desk. "May I ask, Miss Granger, what it is that I can help you with? I'm afraid I do not have the proper knowledge in the way of time traveling magic to help you get back to your own time. But now that you are here... what can I do?"

She looked positively gobsmacked. "Are you saying you believe me?"

He tilted his head slightly, observing her. "I do believe you. However, I am going to request evidence, either in the form of consensual legilimency, or perhaps memories to corroborate your claims. I have a penseive. It would be useful to be able to relive some of your memories, in order to determine what we can do with you now that you're here."

She nodded eagerly in acquiescence. "You can give me Veritaserum if necessary, sir. I've nothing to hide."

He smiled, but then his expression grew grave. "It is terribly dangerous, you being here. Should the Ministry catch wind, you could be subjected to, at best, a rigorous investigation. At worst, perhaps imprisonment."

He didn't say Azkaban . He didn't have to.

His eyes were sharp. "Or worse, I fear. To have knowledge of the future is something that could corrupt even the most well-intentioned of wizards."

She twisted her lips to the side, chagrined. "That's what I'm afraid of. I'm not sure what I should do, sir."

He leaned back once more, watching her. "You say you're a Gryffindor?"

"Yes, sir."

"And a war hero, by your own admission."

She bobbed her head, a slight blush tinting her cheeks. "Well.. sort of. It certainly doesn't feel like it, though."

He laughed. The sound was familiar, and it caused a lump to rise up in her throat. "I know that feeling well. There's very little pomp or glamour in defeating dark wizards. It is rather lackluster, I'm afraid, although it does yield flashy headlines."

His blue eyes were keen and penetrating as he stared at her. "There, a war hero. Here, a criminal. How strangely the world works, Hermione."

She noted his use of her given name. "I will, of course, find my own way here. But I had hoped perhaps you'd have some advice for me."

He gazed at her thoughtfully for several minutes. At length, he stood, crossed to a cabinet behind his desk, and withdrew several vials. Then he advanced to stand before her and lifted his wand, which she recognized as the elder wand.

"Congratulations on defeating Grindelwald, by the way," she said quietly.

"Thank you, Miss Granger" he murmured, his eyes meeting hers. There were ghosts in them. "Now. I'm going to extract memories. I will tell you which memories to focus your mental capabilities on. I would use legilimency, however, I'm afraid I would see things that I shouldn't, things that might drive me mad. This method is more controlled, you see. I will, of course, return them, once they have served their purpose."

She nodded, giving him her consent.

He proceeded to extract many memories. Her Gryffindor sorting, memories of Harry and Ron, her parents and childhood, a few interactions between herself and Dumbledore, a few select memories of the war, her meeting post-war at the ministry, and then, the memory of the time traveling itself. He bottled the memories carefully in the vials, and then enclosed them in the cabinet behind his desk.

Then he perched on the edge of his desk beside Hermione, appearing very stoic and thoughtful. At length, he spoke.

"Are you safe, and is there anything you have need of? Where are you staying?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "I'm staying at an inn, in Diagon Alley. I'm safe, for the time being. I don't think there's anything I lack. I've kept a low profile; no one knows I'm here." Except for an extremely handsome shop boy, but that's not important.

He inclined his head. "Miss Granger, can you give me a day or two? It's imperative that I examine these memories, and then... I will need to think about what the best course of action will be, for your sake."

She attempted to stop the tears from welling up in her warm brown eyes, but she failed miserably. "I'm ever so grateful, Headmaster. I find myself so overwhelmed by my situation. Not only that, but I also feel incredibly alone. To have your help is more than I could have hoped for." She gestured to the tears falling down her cheeks. "Forgive me. This is quite embarrassing!"

He chuckled gently as he took an elaborately folded handkerchief from the inner pocket of his pale blue robes. It was etched with his initials. "Two days at most, Hermione. I will have a solution by then. Please, wait for my owl."

"Thank you, Headmaster." Hermione stood, drying her eyes with his kerchief before handing it back to him, and then made to leave.

"Miss Granger," he called sternly as he sat at his desk once again.

She turned and noted a severe expression on his face.

"Be very careful, until then."