Hello everyone, and thank you for taking the time to read this. It has been a while since i have written anything, as I have been struggling with my writing since laptop got stolen and my work disaparated. So this is my trying to write my story of by memory, and so of course it won't be the same :) But new adventures right?

EDIT: I did a brush up on the research and discovered I got my dates wrong. Dumbledore defeated Grindelward in 1945 apparently, so I've rolled back the years this is set in to 1944. Because time is linear of course, and how can an event that hasn't happened yet have already happened?

Chapter One: Ward of Hogwarts

Raddy West sat tensely in an over-padded chair in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, watching the Headmaster converse with a very young, auburn haired Albus Dumbledore. She clutched her hands together to keep them from shaking, and jammed them on her knees to prevent them from jiggling. She couldn't give away how rattled she truly was. She fingered the hem of what was left of her pale yellow dress, absently noting that there was blood mixed in with the dirt and dust embedded in the material. Her curly hair hung limply atop her shoulders, streaked with ash, grime and muck. Her face and exposed skin didn't fare any better, and she was rather conscious of the fact that she wasn't wearing any shoes, and her feet were covered in sores and blisters to the point they were rubbed raw and bleeding a little onto the rug.

It didn't help that sitting in an identical chair next to her was the most impeccably presented young man she had ever met. He was tall and wiry, which told her he was athletic to some degree. His skin was without flaws and rather pale, telling her that he was mostly an indoor inhabitant. His face was angular and his cheeks slightly sunken, telling her he regularly skipped meals, whether by purpose or accident. His neatly folded hands atop his lap told her of his composure; the fact that he had found her in her current state, racing across the grounds towards the castle in the late evening, looking like a victim from a warzone (which technically, she was, just not in this time) and near to breaking down hadn't appeared to have bothered him in the slightest. His steel grey eyes hard and calculating told her that he was detached. His wavy hair slicked back told her he was exacting, calculated, and logical. No hair out of place. No plan without thoughtful execution. Giving him a sideways glance, she watched him briefly as he watched the conversation play out. He gave nothing away, except for a minute clench of his fists when he realized where the conversation was going.

She looked back to Dumbledore and Dippet, and noted that both were smiling sympathetically at her. Dippet cleared his throat. "Thank you Tom, for rescuing this young lady." He turned to Raddy. "Now Miss…"

It took her a moment to reply. "Pamela West, sir." She cringed at the use of her first name; she'd found it to be far too old fashioned for her tastes. Her mother had never explained why she had given her that name, except to say that one day she would find that it would suit her. She inwardly sighed at the irony of it.

"Miss West, you have seen dire times recently, and are in a state of distress and have suffered immensely. Hogwarts will take you in as a refugee of this war, and you will become a ward of the school. Because you are not a student, you will stay in the Head Girl's quarters—she is absent due to a bereavement and we are not expecting her to be back at Hogwarts this year. You may attend classes—how old are you my dear?"

"Eighteen sir."

"You may attend classes if you would wish to. You are the right age to be a seventh year, so you are more than welcome to join in."

"That would be a welcome way to pass my time sir." She inclined her head, fighting the adrenaline still coursing around her body. Because of her condition it tended to have a longer lasting effect.

Dippet smiled widely, though she noticed that while Dumbledore was smiling as well, he had a suspicion in his eyes that she couldn't seem to fathom. In her own time, Dumbledore had never been suspicious of her. Despite her faults, he had only ever shown her kindness and welcome. But he had also pushed her to the limits of her abilities and sent her on a madman's endeavour in the past. "That's settled then. We can have a timetable made for you tomorrow. For now, Tom will take you to the Hospital Wing to Madame Claire to get you seen to."

Both men bid her a good night, and she and Tom stood and left the Headmaster's office. It was unnerving walking next to him, being so close to the presence that would later devastate the Wizarding World two times over. He kept sending her what appeared to be sneaky side-glances at her, though it wasn't quite as subtle as he thought it was. The hairs on the back of her neck stood every time she felt his quick gaze, but she ignored it as best she could. Several silent minutes later they arrived at the Hospital Wing to find it empty. He stood waiting for the matron to come out and attend to them, and she shifted awkwardly next to him. The room was dimly lit by candles and eerily quiet. It cast their shadows long against the cool stone floor in warped patterns. A moment or two later the door to the office opened and the matron bustled out wearing her nightclothes. She had tied her work apron over top, but it was clear from her state of dress that she had been trying to get an early night.

She was an older woman, blonde hair turning grey, haughtily tall, but with kind brown eyes. She glanced at Raddy, and then at the young man next to her. Then she did a quick sweep of the bedraggled girl in front of her, and her eyes widened. She wordlessly ushered Raddy to a bed part way down the Wing, and urged her onto the bed. Once she was lying down the matron turned to the Tom, who was still standing in the doorway. "What happened Mr. Riddle?" Her voice was soft, but had a strength lying underneath.

"I found her outside the castle on the grounds like this ma'am. Dippet has already seen her, and she is to be a ward of Hogwarts." He was cool and collected, never once sparing her a glance as he spoke. She was glad for it; she didn't think she could handle another cold glare tonight. Not with the state she was in.

The matron nodded. "Very well. You may go now Mr. Riddle." He nodded and wordlessly pivoted on his heel and made his exit. She turned to Raddy. "Now young lady, what is your name and what happened to you?"

Raddy swallowed. She didn't think she was ready to talk about that. It was too soon, and too devastating. "My name is Pamela West ma'am. And… this happened in the war. There was an attack on my village, and I barely made it out alive. I tried to fight with my family, but they were all killed… so I ran to Hogwarts. My parents always told me that it was safe here." Hopefully the story her and the future Dumbledore concocted would be enough.

Madame Claire nodded and ran several diagnostic spells over her, and tutted. "You are otherwise unscathed, aside from your feet and a few cracked ribs. In other words, you are quite lucky. How long have you been running my dear?"

Raddy thought on this a while. This was a result of many weeks running and a grueling final battle against the epitome of evil. "About three weeks I think. Time was hard to keep a track of."

While she spoke, Madam Claire had healed her feet, and now there was just a dull ache where the spell had healed her. "You can clean yourself in the bathroom while I find you something to wear, and a potion to help your ribs." Raddy smiled her thanks, and she motioned for her to get up. She followed the matron to a door at the back of the Wing, and opened it. There were candles lit everywhere around the small but adequate bathroom. She nodded to the matron, who shut the door behind Raddy. The girl let go of what little composure she had and sank to the floor. She placed a hand to her chest, where the small sphere of the Time Turner she had been given by the future Dumbledore sat.

It was how she had gotten here. It was how she was getting home once she had completed her mission. But it was tempting to just abandon it all and twist the dial and return home. She choked on a sob and hugged her torso. What home? There was no home to go back to. That was why she was here. Dumbledore wouldn't have sent her unless there was no other way. The entirety of the future rested on her shoulders alone, and she could tell no one except for Dumbledore. She reached down to her skirt of her dress into a pocket and pulled out a crumpled, dirty letter. The dress wasn't hers. It was stolen from someone's washing line the moment she had landed in the past. She had shucked her dirty jeans and jacket for the yellow dress, transfigured a pocket in the skirt of the dress and put her letter in it. She had tucked the Time Turner underneath the dress, and started walking, to find out how far she had come back, and how far she was away from Hogwarts.

As it had turned out, she was in Scotland somewhere, not far from Hogwarts. A week's walk, to be exact. But in the little town she had passed through she had found a newspaper with the date on it. September 2nd 1944, Tom Riddle's seventh and final year at Hogwarts before he left and there was no turning back from the monster he would become. That had been approximately a week ago now. She had accumulate grime and dirt from having to sleep on the hard ground, and the dress hadn't fared very well from the rough treatment. She hadn't bathed in goodness knows how long, and her bones were aching for the warmth of the water. She took a breath, steeled her mind, and began the process of running herself a bath.

Raddy sighed as she tugged at the hem of the light brown dress that Madame Claire had given her, transfigured from her own wardrobe. It was incredibly comfortable, and had pockets in the front. The top half of the dress was button down, and stopped at the waist where a bow was tied around at the back through belt loops. The skirt flowed nicely and the material felt like cotton. She had been given the all clear to leave the hospital wing after she had passed a physical exam, and Dumbledore had come to fetch her. She was now seated in his office, feeling alien as he peered at her suspiciously over his half-moon glasses.

"Miss West." His tone was enquiring, and she glanced up at him, her brown curls bouncing around her shoulders. "Why are you really here Miss West?"

"I don't follow sir." She replied softly.

He sighed, and at that moment she could see the age behind the eyes. It seemed as if he was an older mind in a younger body. He seemed far less carefree than his future self. "I do not doubt that you are a victim of war, judging from the state of your arrival." She shifted uncomfortably. "But I ask you this. What brought you to Hogwarts? If you have never been here before, how did you know the direction in which to come?"

"I…I have a rather good sense of direction." Raddy replied, and she almost winced at the hesitance that even she could hear in her voice.

He frowned. "You came through the Forbidden Forest, Miss West. Not many who go in there—especially not knowing what it is—come out as unscathed as you. These are dark times, and dark, unspeakable things live in those woods." He leaned forward, resting his chin on the tip of his steeped fingers. "What are you Miss West?"

She gulped and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. She felt the crumpled letter in her pocket, and shut her eyes briefly. When she opened them, she looked him in the eye unwavering, leaning on her inner strength to hold his gaze. She removed the letter from her pocket and raised it, offering it to him. He arched a brow and took it, looking it over first before opening the tattered envelope. He read the letter in silence, emotion never wavering from curious. Once he had finished, he folded the letter away into his robes and looked back at her. She met his gaze after a moment, wondering where this would leave her. She had not actually read the letter. She had been told by future Dumbledore that this letter was all that was needed to convince his past self of her sincerity, her condition, and her mission. And he seemed to have been right; the look in his eyes that met hers wasn't suspicion, but understanding and trust.

"I wasn't sure how you would react sir, but I am glad you believe the letter." She said evenly.

"It seems things are more dire than I feared." His brow creased. "You are the only one sent back here?"

"Yes sir. First I have a question. About my…uh, my furry problem…may I use the forest?" Raddy felt like she was on the edge of her seat, but remained motionless.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "You may. I will alert Madame Claire only to your situation as well, for your safety and others." He paused for a moment. "Have you any idea how you will go about your task?"

Raddy shook her head. "No sir."

"Very well. I will assist you in whatever way I can. Do you like reading, Miss West?"

Raddy frowned at the odd request. "Yes sir."

He smiled. "I might have something of interest to you, something to spend your time on." He rose from his seat and disappeared briefly through a door, before returning with a heavy, dusty tomb. He handed it to her, and she inspected the cover briefly, using her fingers to delicately sweep the dust from the title of the leather bound book.

She arched a brow at it and looked up at the older man. "This is Latin. Is this a complete Latin text sir?"

"Indeed. It is an old text of mine on ancient magicks. I thought you might spend your spare time devising the text. There are parts that are barely legible, you see, even to a wizard's eye." His smile sparkled in his blue eyes.

Oh. Understanding crept into her thoughts. "I see. I suppose I can translate this for you sir. It may take some time."

"There are only a few sections that requiring translating, though they are quite lengthy sections. Several around twenty to thirty pages."

"It shouldn't be a problem sir. Thank you."

"Not at all. Now, I shall show you to your rooms."

The Heads' rooms were rather quaint, in Raddy's opinion. She liked the feeling of solitude, though she could understand how the room could feel at night time. In the mid-morning light of the sitting room, it was a cozy atmosphere. The plush blue sofa opposite the fireplace seemed content to be there, awaiting the evening where it would be curled up on with a good book next to a blazing fire. There was a large bay window opposite the portrait hole, with window seats and a few cushions. On either side of bay window was a door. On each door was a golden plaque, one reading 'Head Boy' and the other 'Head Girl'. Well, that made it easy.

She made her way over to her new room and opened the door. It was a plain room, with white drapes and clothes hanging from the windows and the four poster bed. She supposed that was because she wasn't actually a student. There was a desk next to the window, so she set the text down on the surface, and pulled out the timetable Dumbledore had given her, and set that on top of the tomb. She took her time to look around. The bed was opposite the window and the desk. Beside the desk was a dresser; on the other side of the bed was empty space and a blank wall save for a door to the side. There was a side table on either side of the bed, and the wall beside the door held a modest bookshelf, which was empty aside from what appeared to be the seventh year school books according to the curriculum. The majority of the floor was covered in a brown rug, which was soft to stand on and quite a nice change from the cold stone. Going over to the door on the other side of the room, she opened it to find a cozy little ensuite bathroom, equipped with a wash basin, a toilet and a bathtub.

She walked back out into the bedroom and left the bathroom door open. She paused for a moment to take it all in. This room was hers for the next year. She was going to be living next to a very young Lord Voldemort for the next year. She would have to deal with her transformations without Wolfsbane for the next year. She would have to fit in and somehow complete her mission before summer rolled around. She sighed a pinched the bridge of her nose. This was going to be one hell of a challenge. She hoped that she would have a slightly bigger wardrobe. She would have to ask Dumbledore if she would be allowed to go out and buy a few things to tide her over in terms of clothes and books.

She was brought out of her musings by the creaking open of the portrait hole and the clipped footsteps of who she assumed to be her roommate. She padded over to her door and peered out into the common room, to see Toom Riddle pacing in front of the fireplace. He had a knapsack slung over his shoulder, and as he made a pass by the sofa he slung it carelessly onto it, and a book or two slipped out of the top. He continued to pace while ignoring her, probably not realizing she was there. His jaw was clenched and she could smell the anger wafting around his core, where his body had retracted most of his body heat. He was hyped up from something, and his body was reacting accordingly. She wondered what could be causing it. A moment later she heard a second set of footsteps and she had to pause a moment as a long haired Draco Malfoy strode through the portrait hole, looking rather flippant, if also a little out of breath.

"My Lord, what's bothering you?" Malfoy asked carefully. From his stance she could tell he was being defensive and watchful of his peer, and she wondered just how dangerous he was at this stage to his own followers. She shook the thought; he had to start somewhere if he was to be an evil, maniacal psychopath in fifty years.

Riddle shot him a dark look. "Abraxas, please don't play stupid. Dumbledore is what's bothering me. He's even more suspicious of me than before; I will have to be extra diligent if I wish to avoid his detection." He paused in his pacing and walked over to the bay window and Malfoy followed. The older, yet young, Malfoy who was to be Draco's grandfather in the future. "And now I have that little girl to worry about. I should have known Dippet would do that." She heard him clench his teeth and seethed a bit at being called a 'little girl', and tried to keep a lid on her annoyance. She had lived through a war at his hand, faced off against his Death Eaters first hand; what had he done for his war? Nothing but hide in this godforsaken castle.

"My Lord, the girl shouldn't be a problem, should she? She is only a ward of Hogwarts, not a student."

"That's the point Abraxas. She isn't a student, which means she can go where she pleases and do what she likes, without adhering to the rules. Do you understand now? She is a ward, protected from the bloody war. She's not a student, she doesn't have to follow the same rules we do."

Malfoy paused a moment. "I see… I do apologise for making assumptions."

"As you should. Now leave, I have work to do." With the abrupt end to the conversation, Malfoy made a swift exit and she heard Riddle sigh before coming back into vision to pick up his knapsack and heading towards his door, shutting it behind him. She bit her lip and shut her own door, turning to face her room and her new life as a ward of Hogwarts.

Thank you for reading to the end of the chapter!

Please leave feedback, as this always helps me to improve my writing and potentially think of new directions for the story to go in.

Enjoy the rest of your day :)