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Summary
Years and years of war would exhaust a soul, straining it and wringing it dry with no escape except death. However, Death had a different plan for Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age. Her soul was transferred to a girl who was supposed to be dead. A handsome dark wizard had made sure of that.
Or so he thought.
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"I vow to dismantle you, Tom," she whispered against his skin, her hands wandering from his chest to his shoulders in barely perceptible caresses.
Sensually, she licked over his flesh. "I will slowly unravel you, and then I will mould you anew."
Before he could respond, she sank her teeth into his throat, just enough to cause a sting.
"And if that fails," she whispered, "I'll end you myself."
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Summary
The true Time-Turner was slammed savagely into Hermione's throat. It shattered against her neck, bits of glass and gold piercing into her skin. The last thing she saw before blackness consumed her was a plume of metallic dust and vitreous fragments, tiny prisms dancing behind her eyelids.
(In which Hermione accidentally ends up in 1950, pitted against an ascending Dark Lord in his prime, caught in the entanglement of pureblood politics, dark magic, and Tom Riddle's interest)