Saving Tom Riddle [Tomione]

Chapter 9

Haha, sorry about that cliffhanger.

This is the last chapter, but there is an epilogue.

And, yeah, this really has to be in Hermione’s POV, because I don’t know how Voldemort would think.

I don’t really want to think about it.

This chapter should be a little longer because of a lot of conversation.

And you won’t find out what the letter Hermione wrote to Ron said until the epilogue, because…well, you’ll see what happens.

Umm…that’s about it.     

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I’ve got more than nearly500 reads on this story, so THANKYOU SO MUCH for that!

And I’m writing my first realistic fiction, so please tell me if you want me to put that on here. Thanks! Just a warning: it’ll probably be a load of crap because I’m bad at realistic fictions.

- Bianca

P.S. I can’t believe I’ve finished 3, nearly 4, stories. Before November 2014 I had never finished one!

Well, unless you count When the Chicken Got Lost (Short Stories for Little Kids), which I don’t.

***

HERMIONE’S POV

I said nothing to Dumbledore or any other portraits in the room. Racing down the stairs, around corners and out into the courtyard, all I could think was, Harry can’t still be dead…he can’t be dead…

Ron stared at me oddly as I ran down the steps. “You only went into the building 10 minutes ago! What were you doing that only takes 10 minutes?”

I wanted to correct him.

For me, it had been 7 months.

I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

Then I turned my attention to the scene in front of us.

Harry was still in Hagrid’s arms, but I could have sworn he was placed slightly differently before…

As Voldemort finished his speech, chaos erupted, but I kept my eyes on Harry.

But suddenly, he rolled to the ground and disappeared.

His Invisibility Cloak!

I remembered that he had taken it with him.

So he was alive after all.

I may have succeeded in that aspect of my mission, but I had left Tom Riddle behind, lost and confused. He had probably been so angry at me that he began taking out his anger on others again. He must have resumed meeting with his Death Eaters and therefore resumed torturing and killing people.

History went almost the same as it would have gone without me – the only difference being that Harry could not be killed by Lord Voldemort.

It was all my fault that Voldemort was still Voldemort and not Tom Riddle. No-one else but me could be blamed.

I glanced around and realised that everyone else was running away.

But I didn’t move.

Voldemort turned to look at the girl who wasn’t moving anywhere, just standing there, frozen. And he understood that this was the girl he had fallen in love with when he was only 16, and she wasn’t aged a day.