Seek and You Shall Find

Chapter 5: Time of the Month

The afternoon had been quite enjoyable. She had returned to her rooms, collected a bag and list of things to buy, and flooed off to Diagon Alley. She'd met up with Ginny at Ollivander's Shop of Wands. It seemed that in a fit of rage, Ginny had smacked her wand against a large solid object and it had split into two. Just like Ron when he and Harry got stuck in the Whomping Willow. Ron. Damn. She wasn't supposed to think of him, yet everything reminded her of him.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Ginny?" She was quick to dust away the few tears that threatened to escape from her eyes, but it seemed Ginny had spotted the tears.

"It's about Ron, isn't it." It was more a statement than a question - Ginny seemed to know everything.

"No, no. I'm just a little emotional. Menstrual cycle's come, you know. That time of the month."

Ginny nodded, a serious expression on her face. "I've got some medicine in my purse. Want some? Just a spoonful and you'll feel as if your whole day has been uplifted."

Hermione crinkled her nose. "You know I hate artificial healing. Letting the body take control makes one stronger. You nurses really need to learn that."

Ginny rolled her eyes in response. "Whatever."

The two young women moved on to sit in front of a small café and ordered sandwiches. Hermione ran a shaking hand through her ruffled hair, a distressed look on her face.

"You know, Hermione, you look kind of pale."

"Whatever do you mean?" But Hermione knew what Ginny meant. Hermione had noticed it herself every time she looked into the mirror. Her skin had taken on a pale, almost sickly color, and she could just be imagining it, but her eyes were turning darker - before they'd just been a light hazel, but now they were a dark coffee.

"You know what I mean."

"What. Has Harry been teaching you Legilimens?" Ginny looked guilty for a second. "You have!" Hermione turned away from Ginny, making sure eye contact wasn't possible. "You're my best friend, Ginny, but I can't have you just milling through my memories like you're watching a movie."

"Hermione, that's not what I was-"

"Yeah. Right. Sure." Her tone was unconvincing. "It's probably just lack of sun, you know. It's probably just draining out the color." That sounded unconvincing too, but Ginny didn't comment on it.

A waiter brought their lunch and they finished it in silence. Ginny tried to take each opportunity and get something - anything - out of Hermione, but the stubborn woman refused any eye contact. Looking down at her watch, Hermione jumped up. "Look, Ginny, it was great seeing you, but I've got to get back to the castle. Tomorrow's the big day and I've yet to make sure everything's in check." Bending down to grip a few bags of purchases, she waved Ginny off. "Bye!"

Ginny shook her head. "If I knew any better, she's hiding something."

The same waiter that dished out their orders walked over to Ginny. "Your check, ma'am."

Hermione stepped through the portrait, into her chambers. Setting her bags down, she collapsed in a heap on a couch.

"Ms. Granger?" Hermione jumped out, turning around. By the door stood Dumbledore.

"Yes, sir?"

"You are no longer a student anymore, Hermione. It's time, I believe, you started calling me Albus."

"I'm not sure that's possible, professor. I've always looked up to you and first-name basis seems so much more...personal..." Hermione reddened, and Dumbledore smiled, the odd twinkle in his eyes.

"Whatever is fitting for you Hermione." Pointing to the couch, Hermione sat back down. Dumbledore took a seat across from her. "I have just come upon some startling news. I have told no one - you are the first to hear."

"Sir?"

"The rumors seem to be true."

"Sir, which rumors. Last I heard Tom Riddle was actually a guitarist for a musical band."

"Yes, yes. Well, it turns out that Voldemort was able to obtain an heir."

"Sir? Do you know what this means? It means the War is yet not over."

"Hermione, the War has just begun. There will never be a world without War." Dumbledore suddenly looked weary, as if age had finally caught up. "Ms. Granger, I believe it's right for me to say that my time is coming up - soon. I only have so much time left before my life is over."

"But sir-"

"Ah." Dumbledore held up his hand to stop her train of thought. "Whatever you say, Hermione, will not somehow slow down my path to eternal rest. In truth, I am quite looking forward to it. Death is only the next journey, isn't it?"

"Well-"

"Excuse me. This isn't philosophy class. It would be nice if we offered that here at Hogwarts, wouldn't it." Dumbledore twirled his mustache, seemingly deep in thought.

"Sir, Voldemort's heir?"

"Ah, yes."

"Why am I the first to hear?"

"I think you know why."

"Sir?"

Dumbledore abruptly turned out and walked the length of the sitting Common Area, only to sit back down, but in a different seat. "If my information is correct, Tom Riddle was shortly married after graduating from Hogwarts. He'd been in a rush to find an heir, and went to a common muggle."

"What?"

"Very strange, don't you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"This woman gave birth to a beautiful baby. Upon seeing his heir, Voldemort saw no more use of the poor woman and murdered her in her sleep."

"Why in her sleep? Why not-"

"Ah, yes. It seems that in the short time Voldemort had wooed the young woman in order to gain an heir, he had taken a liking to her. It would even be adequate for me to say that Voldemort had been in love. He could not imagine watching the woman's eyes as he killed her."

Hermione's face was frozen in mixed emotions - anguish, surprise and disgust.

"And the baby?"

"The baby was left in an adoption center, like Voldemort when he was a child. The girl, yes Voldemort's heir is a female, was soon adopted by a couple - it was discovered the woman was barren."

"Tragic."

"Yes, isn't it." Dumbledore seemed genuine in his agreement.

"About the woman. Not Voldemort's heir."

"The girl grew up without knowing of the magical world, until she discovered mysterious powers." Hermione nodded, a strange pained expression on her face.

"Sir, may I ask why you are telling me all this?"

"I believe you know the answer."

"But this has nothing to do with me."

"On the contrary, this has everything to do with you."

A heavy weight feel over Hermione, dread lurking in the shadows of her mind. "What, exactly does it have to do with me?"

Dumbledore stared over his half-moon spectacles. "You are the heir."

"Excuse me?" Hermione shot up out of her seat, her hand clenched around her wand.

"Ms. Granger, I sincerely hope you have plans of using that wand on me."

Hermione looked down at her right hand, realizing she was pointing her want at Dumbledore's chest. Dropping it, Hermione run her palms over her face and began to cry. "Why? Why?"

"I am sorry I cannot answer that question, Hermione. But it is essential that you know this - in time one of Voldemort's most loyal servants will come in search of you. You must be prepared."

"They will not dare to kill me," Hermione looked up, her tear-filled eyes peaking from her open fingers.

"No, but they will do anything in their power to take you away."

"Why?"

"They see the Lord's power in you. In this time, when the power they seek is freely wandering the world, the Lord's servants hope to capture it. You are their hope."

"But I am not Pureblood."

"Remember, Voldemort was not, yet they followed him. You are just like him, Hermione."

"No I'm not! I'm not just like him."

"You'd be surprised in the similarities, Hermione."

"Stop it! I'm not anything like him. Nothing. He's a piece of filth that lived for everything Evil. I live for everything Good."

"Is there such a division between good and evil, Hermione? If so, are you sure of where you stand?" Dumbledore stood up, shaking out his robes, and walked to the portrait. Turned around to Hermione he added, "I trust your belief, Hermione, but the truth stands: you are His Heir. You are to tell no one. I will repeat now - when the time comes, you will be sought after. Take extra care in protecting yourself and what holds dear to your heart." Pushing the portrait open, he took one step out. "Take care, Ms. Granger." The portrait snapped shut behind him, and Hermione was suddenly enveloped in a cold silence.

Time seemed to pass by, and suddenly it was completely dark outside. Looking up at when a small tapping sound reached her ears, she looked cautiously to the window. Could the Servant already be searching for her? Hermione was relieved to see it was only an owl. Opening the window, she let it in, taking the piece of scroll wrapped around one of it's claws.

Hermione:

I don't care what you said. Here's some medicine for "that time of the month". Take care, I'll be here for you.

Ginny

The irony. Ginny would always be there for her, but Hermione could not tell her a word of her true heritage. Perhaps it was time she owled her parents for a confirmation. She couldn't possibly be adopted. Could she?