Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.

Just to clear any confusion, when I said that the Hermione in JAS is featured here, I meant that the Hermione in here would have the same characteristics and background as the one in JAS as well. Meaning: she's not a time traveller, she's born in this era, she's innocent and naïve but she has qualities that is different from the Hermione in JAS as well. Harry's mother is Lily in this story; I think that the first indication of that is when I described him to have green eyes.

I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear but I hope it does now! I should've specified more. Lol. ~ NR xx

Chapter Two

June 31, 1937 — The Summer Before First Year

There was a middle aged man with long auburn beard littered with silver strands talking to Mrs. Cole. He was wearing a purple suit and carrying a brown suitcase. Tom had seen him walking down the street from the window of his room and knew that the middle aged man was there for him when Mrs. Cole greeted him with a voice that was filtered with anticipation and anxiety. Tom sat down on his bed and waited patiently for them to arrive. He heard their steps down the hall growing closer until the sound halted in front of his closed door. He looked out of the window as soon as the door creaked open, his nose wrinkling at the grating sound.

"Tom, you have a visitor," Mrs. Cole said, her voice suggesting that she would rather be somewhere else than there.

Tom slowly craned his neck and looked at them. First at Mrs. Cole — who fidgeted when his vibrant violet eyes met hers — and then to the middle aged man. The man had a kind face with a patient, fatherly smile etched on his lips and a soft, gentle look in his eyes. The purple suit was more hideous up close, nearly blinding if one was to stare intently. It was no wonder why the majority of the people he encountered down the street earlier were eyeing him strangely.

Everything in him, from his face to his posture, screamed good and trustworthy but Tom knew better than to trust it. People with that kind of presence usually had something to hide. In this world, nothing remained unscathed and everything was tainted, even the ones who appeared to be good. He didn't believe the image the man was trying to pass. In fact, he grew even more wary. People with an air of goodness around them usually had a reason why they were projecting the image of noble intentions. Most of the time, those intentions weren't noble at all.

He heard a creak on the floorboards and Tom's eyes flickered as his gaze went to a small person standing in the middle of Mrs. Cole and the middle agred man. He was surprised when he saw a little girl clinging to the purple pants of the middle aged man. He hadn't noticed her coming with the middle aged man earlier and he certainly hadn't heard a third set of footsteps when they were coming to his room.

It surprised him because he was normally so observant than most people that he knew so him missing the little girl's presence when she came with the man was confounding. He wondered, as she continued gazing at him with a curiosity befitting a small child, if he'd simply been too distracted by the purple suit of the man to the point that he hadn't seen her coming with him.

"I'll leave you to him," said Mrs. Cole, her lips pinched as though she tasted something foul. She quickly left before any of them could reply, leaving the door open. She didn't spare the little girl a glance as she went past her, which was odd.

As soon as Mrs. Cole left, the little girl stepped out behind of the middle aged man's back although not by much since her other hand was still holding on to his pants. Tom took the time to study her: she was either younger or in the same age as he was though he couldn't be sure because she was small. She was wearing a blue dress with long sleeves and frills, white tights, and shiny black shoes that made her resemble a living doll. Her wild and curly voluminous hair was chocolate brown that reached past her shoulders to the middle of her back and her honey brown eyes were large and doe-like, betraying her innocence.

One thing that took most of Tom's attention was the staff that she was holding that had a carved lion roaring on the top, a red orb placed inside its open mouth. It was taller than her by a foot and a half and she was leaning heavily against it despite her grasp on the middle aged man's pants. When she caught his gaze on her, it seemed to fluster her as she started to fidget and slowly inch her way back behind the man's back, trying not to alert him with her movements which she immediately failed at doing.

Tom removed his gaze from the girl to settle it on the only adult in the room. "Who are you?" He queried in the same detached tone that he used whenever he was addressing someone he didn't trust. Normally that was around adults and strangers.

Adults were as easy to scare as children but less stupid because their sense of awareness were sharper, keener, and more attuned to their survival instincts. It was one of the reasons why he wasn't chosen for adoption even though he was the most beautiful child in the orphanage — he heard one couple said that three years ago but they left with a three years old boy in their arms instead. Adults sensed something different about him, something unwanted and wrong, and that made them want to stay away from him. That was fine enough for Tom. He didn't want two adults pretending to be his family in an attempt to make themselves feel better. He'd rather be alone.

The problem was deliberately threatening and scaring them. Adults had more authority than children. They might smile and assure that you're going to be safe but if they witnessed you doing one wrong move, they'd take actions and quickly eliminate the problem. That's why Tom was always so careful around Mrs. Cole's hawk-like eyes. He never did anything when he was in her line of vision, maintaining the image of a cold but perfectly harmless orphan boy. She was wary of him but she could never do anything because as far as she could see, he was innocent.

That's why Tom was suspicious of the man in front of him, no matter how kindly he smiled at him. This man couldn't be good if Mrs. Cole left him with him in the same room. But he had been careful. If the caretaker of Wool's Orphanage finally took actions, despite the lack of evidences, there must be something wrong.

"Hello, Tom," the middle aged man said in a smooth voice. "My name is Professor Albus Dumbledore."

"You're not a professor," said Tom with a firm finality in his voice. He kept his panic at bay and well-hidden behind a constructive blank mask. "You're one of them. You're a doctor. You're here to take me away, aren't you?"

Professor Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed and he slowly shook his head. "No, Tom. I'm not here to take you away and I'm also not a doctor. I really am a professor."

"Then why are you here then?" Tom demanded, eyes hard as he compelled him to tell the truth. "Why are you here if you're not going to take me away? And don't lie. I can tell when people are lying to me."

The professor seemed unfazed by his severe expression but Tom spotted the twitch in his eyebrows, a reaction that meant he wasn't as affected as he made it out to be. "Because I am not just an ordinary professor. I am a wizard and you are as well, Tom. I'm here to tell you that you've been accepted to our school. It is one of the most prestigious school in Britain called Hogwarts Academy, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Magic is real and it is inside of us. It's inside of you as well."

Fascinated, Tom's eyes widened. Something inside of him stirred and boiled like magma rising above the mouth of the volcano. That feeling was familiar and had been with him for as long as he could remember. Tom was certain he'd been born with it and he welcomed it like a long lost friend. The most curious thing was that it called to the man in front of him and more so to the little girl beside him. It was as though something inside of him wanted to reach out to the both of them but Tom quickly bottled it down. The last time his power wanted to reach out, it ended up with a snake bite on one of the kids.

"Prove it," Tom whispered but the challenge in his tone was clear and unmistakable.

Albus leaned his head closer, his eyebrows rising. "You can see her, can't you?" He turned his head to the little girl.

Tom's eyebrows furrowed and he looked at the little girl before looking back at him. "Of course I can," he said, anger simmering in his voice. "Do you think that I'm stupid?"

"I'm not saying that you are, Tom," Albus calmly stated to the boy in front of him. "But isn't it a curious thing that Mrs. Cole hadn't looked at her once? Isn't it curious that you haven't seen her when you saw me walking down the street?"

Tom's expression was dark as he glared at the professor. "Are you playing with me? I'll tell you now to stop. I don't like you making a fool out of myself. I can do things to people. Even bad things. Hurtful things."

There was no fear in the professor's eyes but there was a touch of wariness that wasn't there before the longer he listened to his threat. "I'm not making a fool out of you, Tom," he said, as calm as ever. "You see, I had casted a spell on the girl that prevents anyone from seeing her. It's a very advanced spell called the Disillusionment charm and it makes her disappear and blend in her surroundings. There's also another charm called Notice-Me-Not but it mostly works in crowded places. That is why you haven't seen her when she was walking with me outside. But you can see her here despite that her Disillusionment charm is still intact and that is a testament of your power. Amazing, really."

He eyed him critically before finally relaxing when he didn't detect any falsehood from the professor's statements and voice. He looked at the bushy haired girl with more interest. So, that was why he hadn't seen her or heard her footsteps earlier. He frowned. But he still felt unconvinced and unsatisfied. He needed something more, more proof that magic and wizards existed. That he wasn't alone.

"What else?" He asked impatiently. "What more can you do? Is that all?"

"Eager, aren't we?" The professor chuckled.

Tom tightened his lips and was about to respond when his closet suddenly bursted into flames and his eyes widened, his heart pounding hard against his chest when he saw that the flames didn't spread, it only engulfed the closet. Something inside of him flared in response to the flames, to the magic clearly displayed in front of him. It rejoiced and wanted to dance with the flames, to brighten it until it reached the ceiling and the entire room. It wanted the flames to spread.

Tom fantasized burning the whole orphanage down and the power — the magic — inside of him reacted as though it was agreeing with him.

"There's something inside," a soft voice, so unlike the professor's, spoke and Tom looked over at the little girl to find that she was staring intently at the closet.

"Yes," agreed the professor with a quiet voice. "There is something inside. Tom?"

Tom felt something cold dripped down his spine slowly like slime. The professor turned to him and there wasn't anything kind on his face this time. A sinking feeling, akin to the size of the Titanic, weighed on his chest and made it difficult for him to breathe.

He didn't know, did he? He couldn't possibly know or could he?

"Why don't you open the closet and reveal to us what is inside?" He asked gently.

Tom slowly rose to his feet and went to the still burning closet, his arms and legs stiff. He glanced at the professor and then at the little girl who were waiting for him before turning to the closet. He slowly opened it to reveal the small box underneath the little clothes that he had hanging above. The inside of the closet remained untouched by the flames but he didn't have the time to marvel at such magic as he took the box — which was cold to touch — and faced them. Dread coiled in his stomach but he remained silent and still.

If they knew, would they reject him? Would they throw away his potential to become a wizard? Would they refuse to teach him how to do magic and forget about him? Leave him in the orphanage as someone who's ordinary?

His grip on the box tightened.

Albus frowned when he saw the contents inside the box. "Thievery is prohibited in Hogwarts," he said sternly at Tom. "I expect that you return them to their owners by the time you get to the school."

Tom nodded stiffly, relieved that they weren't rejecting him but angry that he had to give up his possessions, his trophies, in order to do so. He had collected the contents inside the box for four years and he was about to throw them away. At least, he thought to himself, at least they were still going to accept him. The little girl eyed him with a strange expression on her face that he couldn't name. He ignored her, choosing to stare up at the only adult in the room instead.

"Very well, Tom." A soft smile stretched his lips. He pulled something from his pocket and when he held it out, Tom saw that it was a letter. "Here is your admittance letter. It has all of the school requirements listed there."

Tom, grateful that he wasn't in trouble, immediately took the letter from his grasp and clutched it tightly in his fist as though he was afraid it would be taken away. "What about money, sir?" He questioned.

"You need not worry. The school will provide the money for your education," assured the professor. "We will come back here at the twenty first of August to take you to Diagon Alley. That's where we will buy your school supplies. We will see you soon. Welcome to Hogwarts, Tom Riddle."

Tom nodded, watching as the professor turned on his heel and started to leave. The little girl, however, wasn't following after her father. She continued staring at him. He turned to her, eyebrows drawn and eyes dark.

"What are you still doing here?" He demanded.

At his question, the little girl moved towards him. Tom discovered the use of her staff when he saw that she was limping, using the staff to accommodate her useless left leg. Her movements were slow, agonizingly so, but she finally stood in front of him after five careful steps. Tom eyed her warily when she opened her palm to him.

He looked at her palm and his confusion was replaced with wonder when something bloomed inside her palm and slowly took shape of a small flower. It was a white tulip but it lacked the green stem as though someone had cut it.

"A gift," she said, an answer to the confusion on his face.

"A gift?" Tom frowned, thinking that she must've felt sorry for him after witnessing him getting scolded by her father for being a thief.

"Yes, a gift." She tilted her head, gaze darting away from his eyes. Tom wasn't sure why she was acting shy now when she was the one who first approached him. "Please, take it."

Still, he continued frowning. "Why? What do you want from me?"

She peered at him through her eyelashes, amused by his response. "I don't want anything from you. I think you've mistaken a gift for a bargaining chip." When it looked as though he wasn't taking it, she lowered it on the table beside them instead.

Tom watched her. "Why are you doing this?"

"You're a wizard now, Tom," she said, turning her gaze to his, a serious expression replacing her demure one. "You're special just like us. You're a part of us. Isn't that exciting? Knowing that the power inside of you is there for a reason? That you're not alone after all these years? You don't have to hide yourself anymore. You have the chance to grow and make something for yourself outside of these walls. I think you deserve a gift, a reminder of this day to remember when you're older."

She turned, limping towards the door, missing Tom's stunned expression. He looked at the innocent flower sitting on his desk and then at the girl that had gifted it to him. He had never received a gift that wasn't made out of pity or because they wanted an exchange. And her gift was made out of magic, which made it more extraordinary. It was a thing beyond compare and she made it for him. The most curious thing was that she didn't appear to want anything in return from him. She did it out of the goodness of her heart.

This was the truest act of kindness that he had ever experienced before and it felt strange.

"What's your name?" The question that came out of his mouth was unbidden.

She looked at him over her shoulder, wild chocolate curls cascading down her back. A small smile graced her lips, lifting her chubby cheeks to make it appear as though her eyes were smiling as well. It revealed the two larger teeth poking in the front of her mouth. It made her look like a hybrid of a mouse and a beaver. She lifted her hand and brushed her a loose curly strand back from her face, her actions hesitant and modest. It was unlike the other girls in the orphanage who were too unruly for their own good.

"It's Hermione," she said quietly. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

When she left, the closet was no longer burning.

A/N: Tom's voice is harder to grasp than I thought. I had a hard time writing this. Despite being eleven, I think I made him sound more like 30 or something. What was I thinking when I was doing this? I knew I shouldn't have let Tom take Hermione away. Dammit.

Reviews are welcomed!

~ NR xx