Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

The Prophet's New Prodigy

Hermione lounged on the outdoor patio of Dumbledore's home in Godric's Hollow. She instantly fell in love with the Tudor style cottage, with its brick facade, wood accents, and diamond-patterned windows. She sat at a quaint little iron table overlooking the gardens, wearing only her silk jimjams with a short silk robe tied around her waist. Fuzzy little slippers cushioned her feet, and she sipped her tea from a mint-condition Royal Albert teacup.

She'd been stuck in 1948 for a few weeks now. For the first two, she'd woken up in the morning, groggy, wondering where she was, only to have the entire experience come flooding back as she recalled that she was, indeed, stuck in the past, far away from all of her friends and loved ones. Ron and Harry would have surely realized she was gone by now.

No, she wouldn't think about them right now.

She'd had a chance to do much thinking this week and had come to the conclusion that she must do whatever she can to alter the events of the future. Initially, she thought it best to leave well enough alone. After all, Voldemort was dead, wasn't he? But after mentally revisiting all of the death, destruction, and carnage that Voldemort himself had wrought over the course of many decades, she realized that many lives hung in the balance and those people deserved to exist in a free and peaceful world. She could save Fred's life... Remus and Tonks... Harry's parents. Sirius. Dobby. She imagined so many countless faces. Voldemort had committed very real genocide. She could not, in good conscience, allow that to happen.

Now , she thought. How shall I go about accomplishing such a thing?

She knew she would have to kill Voldemort. That much was clear.

After all, there really was no changing a person that mentally disturbed, right? Something was clearly very off in his psyche since childhood. People like that couldn't simply be fixed, could they?

How old was the sociopath now, anyway? 22? 23?

She was lucky at least that he hadn't realized the fullness of his magical abilities yet, although he had already created at least two horcruxes by now. She would have to check up on Hepzibah Smith and ensure that the woman did not ever invite Tom Riddle into her home. That would be disastrous. Simply yet another death that Hermione could prevent.

"In order to kill him," she muttered to herself. "I'll have to get close to him somehow. Right . That's the only conceivable way. I will have to find a way to get close to him, find out where the Horcruxes are hidden, and then destroy those . Then he will simply be a mortal man, and I can kill him in any number of ways."

She imagined slitting his throat with a goblin-wrought blade. She imagined casting her first killing curse at him. How fitting.

In the meantime , she could artfully undermine his political influence and infiltrate his social circles.

Soon , she thought. It had been quite a busy week and Hermione was positively knackered. On Thursday she had taken her NEWTs, which had been quite an ordeal in itself. She wished she had had a bit more time to study and prepare, but her fears were allayed when she received her results. All outstandings . Dumbledore had beamed at her, and she blushed under her idol's praise.

Then, last night, Albus had escorted her to the Ministry Fundraiser for Magical Creatures, which she immensely enjoyed. She'd seen many creatures she had studied about but never seen in person. Then there were quite a few whispers and murmurs about her throughout the night, but Dumbledore patiently introduced her to all the influential names and faces of wizarding Britain. She even met the current Minister of Magic, Leonard Spencer-Moon, and had a delightful conversation with him about his working relationship with Winston Churchill. She'd even met Draco's grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, although he seemed to be in his early twenties and possessed all the charm and gallantry that Draco sorely lacked. He was quite gentlemanly and had begged her to let him owl her an invitation to his manor sometime; Hermione had acquiesced but didn't relish the thought at all of returning to that manor. Still, she realized that Abraxas was, in all likelihood, close to Tom Riddle, and she filed that away in the back of her mind as a potential strategy and path to infiltrate his circle.