Don't Repeat History

Don't Repeat History

By Clairvoyant Snake

Chapter 5~1^st of September, 1942

..."You O.K. doll?" Tom's voice resounded from his throat and sent heavenly shivers through her spine. It was then that Hermione realized he truly did care about her, and he was not just plotting some way to manipulate her into doing what he willed. She let herself go, finally, and opened her eyes to the fact that every girls' eyes were on her and Tom, and she felt a warm blush crawling up her face at the thought that she was now officially 'the luckiest girl in Hogwarts'.

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"Yeah, I think I'm swell. Sorry about leaning on you like that," she said with another fresh attack of blushing. He still held her still in his arms and as he replied, his grip became all the stronger. Where did I learn to talk like that? Swell? Jeesh...

"Never be sorry for leaning against me. You're welcome to it anytime, anyplace."

His grin was very reassuring, and she steadied herself to be free of his warm arms. A professor, one that Hermione failed to recognize straight away, came out from behind the bushes in a very fast pace. She sure reminds me of McGonagall... Oh. My. God... It *is* McGonagall!

"Alright children, get out of the boats and follow me into the castle," her hair was a blackish colour, however there were not as many wrinkles on her face as Hermione could recall from her future time. Time was becoming increasingly confusing to her usually organized mind. There was the past, the present, the future, but she felt it odd that she now considered her future the past and the future for her past self as a present.

Time, was indeed horrid to contemplate, and she left it at that. No need to continue that train of thought, besides, its time to follow him into the school.

Tom helped Hermione out of the boat slowly, and they were the last to arrive into the castle. She saw a very tall boy, with huge amounts of black, bushy hair. Hermione assumed the boy was Hagrid. He walked alone, with a slight hunch of his shoulders, as if he were trying to hide something in his jacket. She presumed, that at this time, he was smuggling in the Spider, Aragog, the one that Harry and Ron told her about. She mentally cringed, just thinking about what would come of the discovery of the giant spider, and how Hagrid would get expelled this year.

Hermione, as much as she wanted to help her 'past' friend, knew she could never allow herself to intervene. It was just as bad as thinking about trying to stop Tom from becoming Voldemort later that year. Wait, he *is* Voldemort already... That scared her. The fact that he could at anytime become the monster she was familiar with from her time. But what really got to her, was the fact he didn't seem all that bad. If she hadn't known prior that Voldemort's 'human' name was Tom, she wouldn't have even considered him to be evil.

Then again, she thought, that was exactly how he got away with it for so many years to begin with! God help me, if I do something stupid and fall for this evil piece of crap, just don't let me go back to my time haunted by what I did!

Professor McGonagall, with her stern gaze falling onto Hermione's blinked suddenly and stared as if she were an alien. Hermione felt uncomfortable under her scrutiny and with a tremendous amount of courage, did not start babbling away her secrets. She knew the only person she could tell, would be Dumbledore, and even he couldn't be told the entirety. It was much too dangerous to let him know about her friends for one, and the state of the Wizarding world for his future.

"You! Girl, are you new here?" the Professor enquired of a trembling Hermione. She didn't want McGonagall to ever find out who she was, what she was doing there, how she managed to get here in the first place.

"Yes, I am."

"Follow me with the first-years then. You'll have to be sorted," said McGonagall, with her face slanted slightly downwards to get a better look at Hermione. "By the way, what is your name?"

"Victoria Valasen."

McGonagall nodded in approval, and as Hermione turned once more to look at Tom, she saw him looking at her and smiling. Her heart skipped a beat, and she mentally degraded herself for letting it. She knew that during the sorting, the only way she could get away with anything without giving anything away in the meantime, would be to join a house she'd never been in before.

Hermione remembered her first sorting. The hat's brown rim covering up her face as it made a hidden decision with her approval as to which house she would be best suited to. Earlier that day, she overheard Ron Weasley telling the famous Harry Potter his plans of being in Gryffindor, which in his opinion was the best house. Now she knew otherwise.

Ah yes, a Granger, I think I knew of one before. Quite the angry one she was! Hmm, yes, you think I'm incorrect in thinking so? You think you are a new one in the Magical world, you wish to prove yourself worthy? Yes! I need to prove that just because I'm new to this world, that it doesn't mean I can't be the same if not better than the others!

My, oh my, aren't you the ambitious one! Wait. No, you don't mean...

Slytherin house would be perfect for your ambitious soul, finding kindred souls in that house, you will find is...No! I CAN'T be in *Slytherin*!

You wish to be with your friends...Yes.

You want their trust, loyalty, their ever-going friendship...Yes.

Yet, you wish to make something of yourself, and not be pushed down by others...Yes.

GRYFFINDOR!

That was how she recalled her first sorting. Terrible confusing, and god-awful, it had given her a headache afterwards; just trying to reason the hat into putting her in the house, she went into.

Now, the more she thought about it, the Gryffindors were always making fun of her ambitious side. Moreover, she knew overtime it had become all the more prominent in the way she lived, thought, and wanted to be. Hermione also knew she never wanted to study *all* the time, just most of it, or at least until she was satisfied with her progress.

It was time for the second time around.

Hermione felt eyes upon her as she walked to the front of the hall, with Tom's eyes being the most penetrating in her opinion. Everyone else kept staring, for they had never encountered new students being sorted beyond the age of Eleven. Something new to talk about, they turned to one another, and whispers soon gathered around the hall. Hermione focused her energy and annoyance into the sorting that was about to take place. The students around her sniggered, as if they thought she was a squib-just-turned-into-Witch. That angered her more than she showed, but inside, it was a blow. They knew nothing, nothing at all about her, and they formed theories already.

"When I call your name, you will report to the front of the hall and I will place the hat on her head. It will tell you which house you belong in, and you will afterwards join your housemates at the corresponding house table."

Professor McGonagall pulled the sheet of parchment out, and began calling out the first-years' names. Hermione didn't care, she didn't listen, all she could feel was an amazing amount of self-control while trying to deal with her newfound situation and barely maintainable anger.

Hermione's name finally was called, but she failed to acknowledge it.

Someone poked her in the back. She quickly turned around to glare at the child as if it had done all this to her, and was the sole cause of her torments.

"What is it," she practically spat venom. The child stared open mouthed at the girl in front of him. Frightened, he managed a squeaky answer.

"P-profes-sor Mc-McGonagall ca-called y-you, I-I th-thi-think."

"Oh," Hermione said, not even bothering to apologize for scaring the living shite out of the child beside her.

Walking up to the stool, she sat down and let the Professor place the hat onto her.

"You are Victoria Valasen, correct?"

Hermione nodded.

"I called you before, yet you didn't answer," was all the professor said before leaving the hat and Hermione to its job. She sensed the familiar voice, before she even heard it.

Hmm I think you are a different one indeed. Wha--? Why?

You remember me for one, and you've been sorted into Gryffindor before...

But this time, you don't wish to be with your previous house. Of course, they don't understand me.

The only other houses I could recommend are Slytherin or Ravenclaw. But the best house for you, I think, given the circumstances...Wait! Which one are you putting me in?

SLYTHERIN!

Hermione opened her eyes, and the hall stared up at her. It wasn't as if they had any prior knowledge of Hermione's character, as such, she would be better able to disguise herself, and that way no one, no. Not even Dumbledore would exactly remember whom she was when Hermione got back to her time. When she really thought about it, the hat had been right. Had she been placed in Ravenclaw, the house would have figured her out instantly, since they were all extremely intuitive and could notice mistakes easily. However, Slytherin house would be filled with already suspicious people, they would not question her motives, nor her mistakes, they would just think she had some hidden, deep, dark secret. Which I do, she reminded herself.

At least now, when I go back to my time, I'll be able to tell Harry and Ron what the Slytherin common room looked like fifty-four years ago as a comparison to the time they got to go. Ha! Now we're equal! She bit her lip, wondering just when if ever, she would get to go back to her time and be given the chance to tell her tales at all.

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TBC...