The Time of a Granger (Tomione)

15|Patronus

"I can't do it." He let out in a frustrated huff.

Hermione stood behind him, her eyes scanning his frame to notice his shoulders visibly tense.

"Close your eyes." She spoke softly. "Now-" She began, moving closer from behind him and wrapping her arms around his abdomen. "Think of your happiest memories. Of mornings in fall, of the smell of books, of the feeling of lips and giggles. Of soft skin-". She allowed her lips to press to his back, sending shivers through him.

"You're distracting." He spoke, with a lick off intrigue.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle!" She scorned, the faintest laughter brushing his neck. "Just think of one happy thing, and focus on it."

"I don't have happy-"

"That is Bullocks." She replied, nervous if she was being honest.

Her voice was calming, as if it were a song, or the loud crash of waves upon the cave walls. He raised his wand, standing in the center of the chess board. "Expecto Patronum". He incanted calmly.

Nothing.

She refused to look at him. She couldn't bare the pain that was no doubt behind his eyes. "You understand I cannot even produce a fully-" She began.

He whirled around, eyes menacing. His fist was gripped around his wand knuckles white as Malfoy's hair. "I cannot even get a single fiber of a patronous. There hasn't been a spell I cannot do!"

Hermione stood still, deciding to look away from his eyes. Perhaps this charm was a bad idea to practice with him. "Not everyone can do every spell. There isn't a Wizard or Witch that is capable of everything."

He decided not to listen, pivoting, raising his wand and saying the incantation once more. She watched him. "Expecto Patronum."

Nothing.

"Expecto Patronoum!"

Nothing.

Her stomach started to feel nauseous. He wasn't going to get it—unless. It was as though she remembered how to encourage the boy before her. He wasn't Harry who needed positive reinforcement. "Perhaps you can't do it. You've never been strong in the area of light Magic."

"I can Granger, I've yet to pick a memory."

"Though I dare say no memory will be strong enough. I think you just can't do it. There's no use in practicing at this-"

"Expecto Patronum."

"You're doing it wrong. I suppose Dumbledore will be the only one who can really perform such a difficult spell. I doubt even Grindelwald"

"Expecto Patronum." He seethed. His eyes were closed, and Hermione caught the silver mist that fled the end of his wand. It was from anger. To prove he was better.

Hermione jumped in front of him, her eyes were filled with pride. She flung herself at him, arms wrapped around his neck. She started pecking his cheek. "You did it!" She cheered.

He seemed annoyed, her dangling off of him. "No, I didn't." He drawled, retracting from her embrace.

She stood to his side, hand now placed on his waist, chin on his shoulder. "Not yet, but you can. Think of Grindelwald standing right there. Think of me, proud of you. Because I know Tom Riddle, you are capable of anything, if you know how powerful you are. You said it yourself, you are the greatest Wizard of all time. Great Wizards don't give up after five tries."

"I'm not giving-"

She kissed him then. A passionate quick kiss, that surely filled him with a sudden bubbly feeling. He leaned forwards when she pulled slightly away. She needn't say a thing.

She moved aside, watching expectantly as he raised his wand. She saw the determination in his eyes, she could sense the effects of their kiss no doubt, the tingling sensation right from his lips down to his wand arm.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He incanted loudly. The room surged with a white blaze. Every corner was blasted with the silver waves. And then it fell. There was nothing again. But for a few seconds they had both glimpsed what he had produced.

She saw him smirk. He then turned to meet her eyes. She returned his beaming expression. "Can I get another kiss, Granger?"

She let a scoff of happiness escape. He had done it. "A kiss?" She spoke, shaking her head in disbelief. "You can have anything."

"Anything?" He quirked, his smirk now barring devilishly.

He stalked toward her, gripping her waist, and she was confused as he hoisted her into the air. He began spinning her around, and she laughed with glee.

"Come on." She spoke as he finally let her back down. "Let's keep practicing."

They spent hours trying different charms and spells. They were both growing more determined as time passed, to be ready. The dark forces of Grindelwald were now impossible to ignore.

Draco in particular seemed just as pale and sickly as when Voldemort had risen to power. Hermione noticed his scowl at Riddle when they passed in the corridors, or how he seemed to take a liking to reading up in the libraries.

Hermione had her hand tucked in Riddle's firm grasp. He was dragging her alone through the corridors when Hermione kissed him on the cheek, and parted to go to the library.

He watched as she swooshed away into the sea of students. Why hadn't he followed her? His hand felt colder than usual, and now that he was all alone his Patronus Charm felt like a small bug, incapable of anything more than existing. He had the strong desire to find Slughorn, and boast of his accomplishments. Though halfway up a set of stone stairs, his foot seemed to slip, and he had the scarce moment where the feeling of falling backwards pinched the air out of ones chest.

"Harry? You told us Dumbledore saw a pair of socks—." Hermione spoke. She looked tired, yet her eyes sparkled in the candle light that illuminated a large yellow tent. "—in the mirror."

A boy with long jet black hair, and a pair of glasses looked up suddenly to the witch. "Yeah, I did. What are you getting at Hermione?"

"Well his deepest desire couldn't have been a pair of socks. Do you suppose he could have seen the Deathly Hallows?"

"What?"

"I've told you what they are, yet I'm wondering if Dumbledore has been planning something all this time?"

His eyes flashed open to meet the sight of the stone step he was flailed on. He lifted himself up, ignoring the bump on the back of his head, and stalked instantly towards the library to fetch a copy of Beetle The Bard.

Further in the shelves, as he stalked past, Hermione had found Draco.

"I'm telling you Granger, we need to find Dumbledore." Draco spoke, looking up from his stash of books. "As much as I hate the old bat, who else can we go to?"

"We don't need to go to anyone." She seethed in a low whisper, looking around to see if anyone was listening.

"Time Travel isn't as simple as it looks. What if we are creating our own deaths?" He spoke dryly. "I'm going to him. He'll understand."

"Malfoy!" She whispered, but he had already disappeared.

There was no choice now. She went after him, a good few yards behind him as they walked. They passed Abraxas, who seemed to wish to talk, but Hermione simply nodded in his direction as a passing greeting.

They finally reached the Transfiguration office door, Draco made to knock with the handle.

"Wait!" She whispered. She pressed her ear close to the outside.

"They are real Professor, the Deathly Hallows. You've been trying to find them haven't you?"

"Tom, what would I want with a thing like that?!" The voice of Dumbledore choked, yet with an unconvincing tone. "Gellert Grindelwald perhaps. I fear, he has nearly achieved the collection."

Draco ignored Hermione's attempt to wait, and finally rapped on the door.

The voices within grew silent. Yet as the door opened, Dumbledore seemed as though he had been expecting them. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger, come in."