A/N: I KNOW I shouldn't start anything new but this idea has been in my head for weeks now and it needed to be written out. It's just going to be a short (maybe 4-5) chapter story that explores the transitioning relationship between Tom Riddle & Hermione in an alternate timeline through a few key moments. I haven't planned it out in its entirety yet (I know, classic me) so I'm not sure where this is going, but we'll see.

Hogwarts Head Dormitory [September 18th, 1942]

She didn't expect him to be clever.

In her defense, he had already lost all sense of sanity in her time. After all, only a raving lunatic would place a piece of their soul into a live snake for safekeeping.

She snorted at the mere thought.

"Something funny, Miss. Granger?"

Hermione gritted her teeth together at the sound of his voice, momentarily forgetting he was still in the room. He stood silently against his door, assessing her with his dark eyes.

She fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair, remembering she had yet to answer his question. Her throat felt like it was closing up even as she whispered hoarsely, "No."

"I must say, I am quite pleased you've decided to use your words rather than your wand today," He crossed his arms across his chest with a smirk. "I knew there had to be some sense of civility in you."

"I don't need a wand to curse you," She hissed. Her eyes fell on the bandage covering his left arm and the corners of her lips curved up into a triumphant smile, "How's your arm, by the way?"

He raised an eyebrow, bemused. "I'm afraid to disappoint you, but it was nothing I couldn't fix eventually."

"Eventually," She repeated smugly.

"Yes, well," He shrugged, "It is 1942. Our healing techniques aren't quite as advanced as the ones I'm sure you have in…" He paused. "When did you say you were from again?"

"I didn't," Hermione shook her head at him. "But nice try."

He stepped away from the door and she leaned away in her chair almost instinctively. The change in his demeanor might've seemed insignificant to anyone else, but she saw the way his eyes hardened, the way his shoulders stiffened minutely.

"You seem like an intelligent witch, Miss. Granger," He almost purred as he made his way to her.

"I-I've been told I'm the brightest witch of my age," She raised her chin, struggling to hide the shakiness of her voice as he walked right past her. Hermione craned her neck to the side to see him leisurely pulling the curtains closed and her breath involuntarily caught in her throat.

"Of your age," He said quietly from somewhere behind her. "Not here."

The coldness of his voice made her shiver and she swallowed hard. "I defeated you once, Tom. I can do it again."

She almost gasped as she felt his hands suddenly grab the back of her chair. She felt her heart beat faster against her chest and she closed her eyes in an attempt to steady her breathing.

"Hm, perhaps you could," He mused aloud. She bit down on her lip as he suddenly fisted his hand in her long curls and yanked her head to the side, exposing the long line of her neck. His breath was surprisingly warm against her skin as he brushed his lips against her ear, "But can you do it alone?"

She felt him smile and his voice was almost taunting as he reminded her of the harsh reality of her situation:

"You're all alone here, Miss. Granger," He whispered. "You may have defeated me in your time, but I know you did not do so without additional help. Tell me, do you honestly believe you can do it alone?"

"I can certainly try," She spat.

"And you'll die trying," He said simply. He stepped away from her then and she felt relieved at the much-needed space.

He walked around her and faced her with a cruel smile. "The way I see it, you only have two choices, Miss. Granger."

"Oh?" Her smile seemed more deadly than saccharine as she flashed her perfect teeth at him, "And what might they be, Tom?"

He ran his tongue over his teeth and mirrored her unnaturally wide smile. "Why, Miss. Granger, I'm so pleased you asked. You can either tell me everything I wish to know, or–"

"Pass," She leaned her head against the back of her chair and raised an eyebrow at him, "I will never–"

"Or," He spoke over her, cutting off what was sure to be a self-righteous angry tirade, "I can pry it out of you. I can't promise it will be all that pleasant of an experience, however."

She couldn't help it. As soon as the threat left his lips, she burst out into a peal of laughter so raucous that she felt her bruised ribs from earlier start to ache once more.

"You have a beautiful laugh," He noted. "Unfortunately, I don't seem to understand your humor."

Her voice was soft as she said, "If you think you can torture anything out of me, I'm afraid you'll only be disappointed."

"I can certainly try," He echoed her words from earlier and she suddenly sat up straighter in her seat.

Her features were hard as she looked up at him through her lashes, "Do you think your followers didn't already try? Your right-hand witch tortured me until my blood spilled across her entire sitting room. And do you know what I did?"

"Any sane person would have told her what she wanted to hear."

Hermione shook her head slowly, "I spat in her face. Eventually the witch realized she would break my mind, but never my resolve."

His jaw ticked in annoyance, but he seemed able to push it aside easily enough. "There are other ways," He waved his hand unconcernedly. "There's always–"

"Legilimency?" She finished his sentence with a smirk. "I suppose that would have worked, had I not been a skilled Occlumens. You forget, Tom Riddle, that I've fought an entire war before you were even born in this time. Your pathetic attempts at Legilimency might've been successful on an ordinary witch. But I'm no ordinary witch."

"Is that so?" He said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Before she could blink, she felt the tip of his wand push into her throat and she jerked back in her seat in shock.

She glared at him, "I already informed you that torturing me would get you nowhere, Riddle. I knew you were slow, but are you hard of hearing as well?"

He shrugged lazily, choosing to ignore her childish insult. "Oh, I do not plan on torturing you, Miss. Granger. Don't be so naive," He paused and pressed his wand harder into her neck, "I plan on killing you."

She stared at him for a second before she scoffed, "You can't kill me."

"Why?" His lips blossomed into an angelic smile, "Have you made some horcruxes as well?"

"No," She growled, "I would never do such a despicable, disgusting– "

"Then why," He ground out, "Do you suddenly think I can't kill you?"

"Because–"

"If you already knew about my horcruxes, then certainly you know I am not against spilling a little blood here and there," He pointed out.

Her eyes narrowed, "You can't kill me. People will ask questions. They'll know that–"

He laughed and Hermione was suddenly frightened by how dark a pleasant noise could sound. "Forgive me for my terrible manners, Miss. Granger, but may I remind you that you are here all alone? Nobody is coming to save you. If you scream, nobody will hear you. If you disappear, nobody will care."

He stepped closer, "So please, would you care to enlighten me on why you think I can't kill you?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and shakily whispered, "Even if you kill me now, there will still be a version of me born in the future. You will still be defeated."

"That is possible," He allowed. "But thanks to you practically dropping into my lap in this time, I know exactly who to watch for in the future," He smirked. "Lucky me, I get to kill you now and again in the future."

Hermione felt her face pale as she realized exactly how correct he was. He knew what she looked like. He knew her last name. He could easily track her down if she were to appear once more in the original timeline she was from. And without her–she felt her chest tighten at the mere thought.

He seemed to note the exact moment the realization washed over her face and he frowned slightly. "Come now, Miss. Granger. Don't be so upset. You're not the first witch to discover she's not as clever as she thought she was."

She glared at him, "You won't–"

"Get away with this?" He scoffed. "I can assure you that I very well can. I already have," He walked towards her and crouched down till he was at her level. He tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ears in a gesture of faux tenderness and she resisted the urge to flinch at his touch. "You see, what you still fail to understand is that while you held some information in that pretty little head of yours, you were useful to me. I had a reason to keep you alive. Now that you have established that the information in your head will stay trapped in there, even if I pry your skull apart…. well, you're not very useful to me now, are you?"

He straightened back up and fixed her with a practiced smile, "I am quite remorseful nobody warned you that in this time, it is much simpler for you to be useful to me than be in my way. It's a shame I have to dispose of you, I thought you were far more interesting than the idiots I have to keep me company in this time."

He raised his wand and Hermione's eyes widened as she saw his lips begin to move.

"Wait!" She shouted, "Stop!"

He paused, "What is it now? I'm afraid I don't have time to arrange for a last meal for you, as classes are supposed to start in an hour–"

"Stop!" Hermione repeated, her eyes darting around frantically. "I don't want a last meal–I–I–"

"Spit it out, witch, I don't have all day," He stared at her over his outstretched wand.

"I–" She closed her eyes and forced the words to come out of her mouth. "Even if I tell you what I know, who's to say it won't change the timeline too much?"

"That would be the point," He rolled his eyes. "I don't fancy being defeated in the future."

"And I don't want to help you," She hissed.

"But?" He pressed.

"But I don't want to die," She admitted reluctantly. "If I die now, then all of this would have been for naught."

"Wouldn't that be heartbreaking?" He cut in snidely.

"Shut up," Hermione sneered at him. "I did not survive an entire war just to come back to the beginning and die by your hands. I came to create a better future."

"A better future for yourself, I'm assuming?"

She shook her head, "No, for everyone."

His lips twitched, "Miss. Granger, if this conversation is going where I think it is, the first thing you have to learn is we are all selfish at heart. Even you."

She opened her mouth to argue but he held up a hand to stop her. "You were so willing to play the brave soldier until you were forced to choose between your cause or your life."

"Yes, by you," She rolled her eyes.

"Semantics," He said casually. "My point is, we are too selfish to be loyal to anyone but ourselves."

"If I am to help you by telling you what I know," Hermione cut in sharply, "Then I expect a certain loyalty from you. I have some demands as well."

"You're in no position to bargain for anything other than your life," He pointed out.

"Maybe," She gave him a challenging look, "But I can tell you all I know, or I can just barely scrape the tip of the iceberg. You will never know if I am telling you the truth or not. I could send you to your death in a few years, just out of sheer boredom."

He lunged forward to wrap his fingers around her throat and Hermione smiled at him, despite his angry grip on her neck. "As I see it, you only have two options, Mr. Riddle. Which will it be?"

Her eyes began to water as he stared at her with his dark brown eyes, squeezing his hands harder on her neck. She had just started to see black spots dance in the corner of her eyes when she felt his hands leave her neck, and she gasped, choking on the sudden rush of air. He watched her with unblinking eyes as she attempted to return her breathing to a relatively normal state before speaking.

"Surprisingly, you are more intelligent than I thought," He gritted out. "I suppose if it means having your full loyalty, I can agree to some of your terms. But I hope you understand this means I have expectations of my own."

"Fair enough," She chuckled hoarsely. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

He stared back down at her with a small smirk, "Now, if we're to do business together, don't you think I deserve to know your full name?"

She leaned back in her seat and raised an eyebrow at him, "You'll know my name…once I see a written contract."

He pressed his lips together and resisted the urge to smile, "Fair enough."