Dumbledore showed up as expected on the first of June with only one small hiccup. He planned to deliver one Hogwarts letter. Tom was called to Mrs. Cole's office, with Hermione in tow as was their habit. Dumbledore asked to speak to Tom in private. Mrs. Cole tried to hustle Hermione out of the office. Hermione caught the professor's eye and moved a knick knack on the desk three inches exactly. The professor's twinkling blue eyes blinked rapidly and he quickly arranged for an interview with both children.
He seemed positively delighted though…of course, she'd seen him look delighted at wand point, so she didn't trust the twinkle. "Very odd…I've never seen a British child that wasn't on the list." Hermione wanted to throttle whatever champion of light that had neglected that small detail but she kept a neutral expression on her face. Dumbledore was looking intently at her. "Is it possible that you were born outside of Great Britain?"
Hermione looked up, a little surprised. "My parents never mentioned that I had been…"
"Parents often keep small details from children because they feel they are too young to cope." Blast. She could practically see the wheels in his head turning. She didn't want to know what sort of convoluted origin story he was concocting for her. She could tell he was taking in her appearance carefully. Probably searching for signs of some pure blood family or another. They all seemed to run to type…inbreeding would do that. The Professor prompted her, "Perhaps you were originally slated to go to another school?"
Hermione shrugged again. "My parents were muggles, but a witch convinced them that magic is a reality because she knew when she met me that I was different."
Dumbledore nodded. "I should imagine any witch would recognize the signs. Hogwarts will be happy to welcome you to the next term Miss Granger…"
His interest in her was slightly vexing, but it was better than his avid interest being turned toward Tom.
Hermione didn't give him a moment to ponder. "I need you to understand there is something terribly wrong with this place."
The older wizard cocked his head in encouragement to go on.
Hermione lowered her voice, shooting a worried glance at the door. "There are men who have been using this place to supply customers with…children." The wizard's eyes widened and there was less twinkling and more fire in them. Hermione took a deep breath and continued "Those men are being shipped to the front lines of the war effort, they were betrayed by the girl they'd convinced to help…but they won't stay there forever. Once they get back, they'll do it again. Or others who knew what they were up to will."
Dumbledore nearly growled. "I think not." He took out a quill and several scrolls. "I must know, are either of you injured?"
Tom answered for both. "We had magic. The others didn't. Some of them didn't come back. Mrs. Cole thinks they ran away. Hermione wasn't here yet, but I don't think they left because they wanted to. Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop are still here, but they aren't right anymore. She cries all the time and he has this dead look in his eyes."
Within moments there were several neatly written, precisely worded letters and Fawks burst into the room in a shower of red and gold sparks.
Tom startled more than Hermione. "What is that?"
Hermione sighed, wishing she had the coins for a familiar. She missed Crooks.
"That is a phoenix. They are really rare."
Dumbledore looked at her intently once again. "You are a very well-informed young lady."
Hermione shrugged. "The witch that found me had lots of books. She let me borrow them."
This was actually true since McGonagall had been the one that had contacted Hermione's parents. The witch had brought her books and then took them to Diagon Alley to get more. Hermione's eyes started to tear up. Merlin's proboscis. Being a child was difficult. Every emotion was so immediate.
Dumbledore's eyes softened when he saw the sheen of her eyes. "Where is the witch now?"
Hermione was at a loss at first. She wasn't about to lie outright. "I don't know. My parents found out we were in danger from a dark wizard. They didn't know his real name." She looked down, because she didn't need him reading her at that moment. "My parents aren't here anymore. I haven't seen Minerva in months. I don't think she's coming for me. And if she was able to, she would."
She actually did start crying then, and Dumbledore handed her a handkerchief. He was still convinced there was some mystery about her presence.
Dumbledore turned to Tom. "What about you? Do you know who your parents were?"
Tome shrugged. "My mother died giving birth to me here at the orphanage. She named me Tom for my father and Marvolio for her father. Do you know of my family?"
Dubmbledore shook his head slightly. "I don't know any Riddles, though there are some Grangers. I believe there was a Minerva in that bloodline…or perhaps her name was Athena…mayhap she was disguising her origin?"
The old man was such a nosey parker. Honestly, if there wasn't a scandal, he'd make one up!
She took Tom's hand. "I don't really care about that bloodline nonsense."
Tom looked at her with shy admiration. She smiled at him. "Isn't it better to choose your family anyway?"
Dumbledore's lips quirked; he was undoubtedly thinking of his own brother.
The future headmaster pulled out a key. "This will allow you to go to Gringotts and withdraw enough gold to get your school things. I'll send them a note regarding the amount."
Hermione perked up. "The Wizarding bank? Are there really goblins?" She and Tom had already been, but she didn't want to give Dumbledore that impression if she could help it.
Dumbledore laughed a bit. "I'll arrange to come with you. I would love to see the two of you experience the magical world for the first time."
She tried to backpedal. "We'll be alright professor. As long as we are together we don't have anything to fear."
The older man shook his head. "I insist."
What could she say to that?
HGHGHGHG
She had to admit, champion of the light or not, she wasn't really looking forward to spending the day with Dumbledore. She didn't want him around Tom more than absolutely necessary. Tom agreed, though he had his own reasons, reasons he didn't choose to share. Hermione didn't push.
Of course, neither she nor Tom had any real say in the matter. The professor arrived wearing a bright orange tuxedo with matching cummerbund and top hat. It was even worse than the leisure suit he'd worn the first time he showed up.
Hermione's flinched when she saw the color and Dumbledore smiled. "Embarrassed to be seen with me Miss Granger?"
"Well, it is an unforgettable look…" She quickly realized what she'd said and her eyes narrowed. He wanted everyone to focus on him rather than the students he was shepherding. In the muggle world the color was too unusual to miss and in the wizarding world the eye-catching muggle attire would raise eyebrows and make tongues wag. No one would remember anything at all about Hermione and Tom. If questioned, they'd be 'two children'.
It was a bloody brilliant bit of non-magical misdirection.
But why?
Grindlewald.
It was the obvious answer. The dark wizard was probably having Dumbles followed.
The urge to cast protective or concealment charms was nearly overwhelming. Hermione forced herself to relax. Spells would draw the attention that Dumbledore was trying to avoid. Also, there was every reason to believe that her lack of a wand combined with her current youth would keep her from casting anything more difficult than a protego.
Despite the manipulations she quite clearly remembered, Dumbledore had done his best through two wars, avoiding the taint of darkness and using his power and brilliance to protect as many people as he could. Was he heavy handed? Yes. But he was also a very young champion if what Minerva had said was true, and he'd had more on his plate than the light had planned for him to face, with Tom being lured away.
She felt a wave of almost maternal warmth for both of them in that moment. She'd been sent back to protect Tom, yes, but also to make some things right. She'd do what she could for Dumbledore as well.
Dumbledore looked at her curiously, having watched her face as she'd thought. "Are you ready?"
She nodded and took Tom's hand in her right and the professor's hand in her left.
Neither questioned her, but she could feel the curiosity coming off them in waves. She would explain a bit to Tom later. Dumbledore would just have to content himself with guessing for now.
They took a cab to the Leaky Cauldron (the driver kept giving Dumbledore looks). Once there, Dumbledore nodded to the bartender and hustled them into Diagon Alley. Hermione was quite sure that the professor could tell that they'd snuck in before, but he just twinkled at her and didn't mention it. It was probably better if Hermione didn't mention using a medicinal potion on a group of thugs to make them hallucinate. That sort of information might ruin the perfectly lovely time they were having.
And the trip was actually more fun than she'd imagined. She and Tom were allowed to spend the entire morning in Flourish and Blots, though it didn't take very long to pick up their school books. They raced from shelf to shelf, sighing over the glossy covers. Dumbledore took a stack of knitting magazines to a corner and let the browse, but he was always available when Hermione asked him if a specific book was available in the Hogwarts library. Hermione was practically aching to be back among the treasured tomes of her youth. It had been many years since she'd haunted those shelves at Hogwarts and now she would have access to them again.
Dumbledore pried them away from the books and paid for a nice little luncheon off one of the carts. He insisted on buying and Hermione didn't argue too much. The funds for their robes and things were somewhat less than she'd hoped. There would be no extra reading material and many more second hand robes. She bit back her irritation. She moved her money making schemes up a bit in her priorities. Being poor was another sort of powerlessness. That sort of powerlessness was probably one of the things that had made Tom the way he was. When she felt powerless in one area, she was more likely to control what she could…thus her reputation for color coded study schedules during her own time at Hogwarts.
After they were done nibbling on their lunch, they went into a dingy little shop the Professor recommended and got what Hermione privately agreed was a very good deal on used equipment. Apparently, a lot of students dumped their old cauldrons after fifth year when they stopped taking potions. That meant they had their choice of basic equipment, and some of it looked barely used.
They were a little less lucky in the matter of robes. Most of them were a bit worn out. The old witch at the counter, noticing that they'd come in with Dumbledore, did some basic spells to improve the color and the fit, and did a sly little quirk of the wand on the last spell to make sure Hermione's robes hung correctly. Hermione's eyes widened. She'd never seen that spell before. Purebloods did have their little tricks to wordlessly say who fit in and who didn't.
It was evening before they arrived at Ollivander's. The bell on the shop door tinkled merrily as they walked in.
Hermione motioned for Tom to go first. He was practically bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet.
Olivander might be younger, but he didn't really look it. He had the same sort of white-blond hair that she'd always associated with the Malfoys, and his eyes were an odd shade. In fact, if anything, he was creepier now than he'd been when she was eleven. He'd just been old then. Now he was a fey thing…he brought to mind ancient priests of some reclusive oracle.
After a moment of small talk, the wandmaker dropped a length of oak into Tom's hand. It sputtered and hissed. Seemingly intrigued, Olivander pulled out a dozen boxes, and only looked more pleased as each was rejected.
"Rosewood and unicorn hair" shattered all of the windows in the shop. "Ebony and dragon heartstring" left a nine inch burn on the table. "Broomwood and leprechaun eyebrows" sat there totally inert.
By the end of an hour Olivander was looking completely chuffed, Tom was decidedly annoyed, and Hermione was trying to rid her hair of plaster from a recent bolt to the roof.
Hermione saw the wandmaker pull out the length of yew with a silent groan. "Yew and phoenix tail feather core, over 13 inches." was placed into his hands. It glowed so brightly she had to look away.
Hermione shoved her disappointment down. Both wand and boy were young. They didn't have to grow the way they'd become the first time around.
Dumbledore and Olivander exchanged a significant look (probably because of Fawks' tail feather). As they did a dusty blue box fell off a shelf and a wand rolled right at Hermione's feet. Without thinking, she reached down and picked it up.
It was made of two pieces of wood, twined together. The moment she picked it up, there was a sound, like the world holding its breath, and then a sigh. She'd never felt anything so right. It was like a warm fire on a cold day, like hot cocoa and warm cookies.
Olivander cleared his throat. "Ash and rowan, phoenix tail feather, twelve inches exactly."
Hermione still was gazing at it. The wandmaker spoke again. "It was my great-grandmother's wand. I brought it in some time ago to study it."
The words hit Hermione like a muggle truck. She took a deep breath and tried to hand the wand back. It was almost painful and the wand didn't want to go.
Olivander put his hands up, refusing to take it back. "No, no. That wand is your wand now. It was unmistakable in its choice. It wouldn't be any use to me now. It's quite old and very stubborn. Not the sort of wand a child should have for her first wand, but the wand chooses the witch. It's not always quite clear why. I think we can expect great things from the two of you. After all, the witches who have carried that wand have all been great…some were terrible, yes. But all great. And as for the young gentleman, that is a very powerful instrument that chose him."
Dumbledore broke the moment. "I expect great things from all of my students. Pay for the wands children."
In the end, Olivander wouldn't take a knut for the wands. He kept chuckling to himself. Dumbledore didn't look happy about that, but he took them back to the orphanage without any other issues. He might have looked at them oddly as he helped take their trunks to their rooms, but he didn't say anything, and that was good enough for Hermione.
HGHGHGHG
The surly groundskeeper consented to loading their trunks in the old truck he used and took them to King's Cross early on the morning of September first.
Despite the excitement both she and Tom felt, it was a quiet drive.
Dumbledore had explained carefully about platform 9 1/2, so there was no confusion. They leaned casually against the wall and slipped in with little fuss. Tom was enchanted by the sight of the steaming Hogwarts express and the people in wizarding robes. They were very early, so no one noticed as they hustled into a carriage. They took turns changing and by the time they were done, the other carriages were beginning to fill up.
Her hair was as bushy as it had been when she was truly eleven, and she had that atrocious overbite she intended to correct as soon as she got to school, but it hardly mattered. Tom on the other hand was as neat as a pin with his robes and his hair combed just so. He looked every inch the perfect Hogwarts first year with his shoes shined and his nails trimmed.
She resisted the urge to muss his perfect hair a bit and straightened his tie instead. "You look very handsome Tom."
He blushed slightly. To cover his embarrassment, she took out her wand and used that spell that made his robes hang perfectly. The magic was non-verbal, but it was an easy spell, and she was hoping people wouldn't notice. She did it on herself as well…just as a familiar-looking blond head was passing by.
He was older, fifth year if she was any judge, but well grown for his age. He was tall but unlike his grandson, he was already developing the arms and broad shoulders of a beater.
"That's not bad for a first year." He took out the wand and replicated the spell on Hermione's robes. "It's almost impossible to do it right on yourself without a mirror. There was a little wrinkle left on the back of your robe."
She looked down, surprised at the open, friendly look on the boy's face. She gave him a small smile and said 'Thank you'.
He offered his hand to Tom first. "Abraxus Malfoy."
Tom took it with just the right note of strength in his hand. The boy really was a genius at reading people.
"I'm Tom Riddle, and my friend is Hermione Granger."
Abraxus took Hermione's hand and kissed it. She did not blush. She'd been in these situations with purebloods before in the years after the war. "Charmed."
The boy had lovely blue eyes. She just didn't especially like the slight calculation she saw in them.
He didn't keep the calculation from his eyes, but his voice and manner were entirely charming. "Do you have siblings here at Hogwarts? I know there are some Grangers running around Hogwarts, but most of them are Huffelpuff so we aren't well acquainted."
Tom answered for both of them. "We're orphans. We were raised with Muggles."
Malfoy looked like he'd bitten into a bad apple.
"How extraordinary." He was smarter than his grandson though, more subtle. "Well, I look forward to seeing you both sorted! I'm a prefect for Slytherin this year, so if you need assistance, don't hesitate to ask."
Tom raised an eyebrow after Abraxus left. "And what was that?"
"That is a Malfoy. Pureblood through and through." Tom raised a brow and she realized that she hadn't explained this bit of wizarding culture yet.
"Some wizards and witches claim to be what's called pure bloods. They have many generations of wizarding blood. They aren't really pure of course, they produce as many squibs as muggle-borns do…they just send their squibs into the muggle world." Except for the few families that smothered a non-magical offspring. There were a few of those even in her time.
"They like to consider themselves wizarding aristocrats, and some of them, like the Malfoy family, are actually titled aristocrats, but they don't like to mention that because it shows that at one time or another they married muggles and served a king."
Tom looked at her closely. "And they must be horrid to Muggle born witches."
She gave him a wan smile. "Some of them are. Some of them are nice enough. Dumbledore is a pureblood actually. Well, I think they said his mother's mother was a muggleborn or a half-blood. Again, not that it matters. It all bleeds red, trust me."
She stopped herself because of the bitter tone. She'd forgotten, over the years, how much resentment she'd felt. Most of her life she'd been the wizarding world's golden girl, heroine of the battle of Hogwarts, later champion of underdogs everywhere. It was very hard to be eleven again after all that.
She shrugged. "They tolerate half-bloods, and from what I've heard, they keep their disdain of muggle-borns down to name calling most of the time. And it's all nonsense anyway. Some purebloods are nearly squibs and some muggle-borns are like me."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "You mean walking libraries?"
"That's the pot calling the cauldron black!" She realized then that she didn't sound much like a muggleborn really. She'd already spent an entire lifetime in the wizarding world.
She leaned forward and patted his hand. "Don't worry. You're powerful. They'll assume you are a pureblood. They'll want you to be like them so they can be better by association."
"I probably am."
She grinned at him. "Maybe you are. But it doesn't matter. I'll overlook it and still be your friend."
He smirked at her comment and then sighed. "What about you?"
"I know what I am, and I'm proud of the people my parents were. They were good people. If they'd known you, they wouldn't have left you in that place. If they were alive, we'd be at home." Her voice held a note of longing. She hadn't seen her parents in so many years, but she missed them still.
The train lurched forward with a hiss and steam rising.
"Let's don't worry about it today. Today, let's just enjoy our first glimpse of the castle. Do you know which house you want to be sorted into?"
Tom nodded. He didn't elaborate. She supposed she would find out at the feast, but she had an idea that he would most likely end up in Slytherin. Being a direct descendant of the founder would probably guarantee it.
They'd already read their school books, but Professor Dumbledore had dropped by twice through the summer with fresh reading material. Hermione assumed that he was being kind…and keeping a sharp eye on what they were learning. Heaven knew that if he hadn't brought them books they would have gotten back into Diagon Alley and found a way to read in the bookstores. At least this way, a teacher was controlling the information. She thought he was rather brilliant for doing so and wondered if he'd bothered doing this for Tom the first time around. She rather thought not.
One of the most recent books was a heavy history from his personal collection. The script was antiquated and cramped, but it covered a number of famous witches through the ages. It also happened to be a book she'd never found in her past life. Completely new reading material was always cherished.
She looked up as the sun began to set. She and Tom had been quiet for hours, enjoying their books. He was wrapped up in an account of the goblin wars.
She nudged Tom as the lake appeared. The train slowed and finally stopped. She was giddy with the idea of watching him see the castle for the first time. She kept grinning like an idiot and looking at him out of the corner of her eye. They filed off the train with the other first years. A man who wasn't Hagrid called for them to get into the boats. Hermione and Tom stuck together like velcro…better not mention velcro though. That was another thing that hadn't been invented yet. That was the sort of slip up that wouldn't do at all.
She watched Tom as he gaped at the castle for the first time. His eyes were wide as he watched the ghosts and the moving portraits. He never let on that it was all that different. He didn't gape. Not many of the children did. She frowned. It didn't look like there were that many muggle-borns in her year. She took a quick headcount. Not that many children at all. The Gryffindor class in her first year held nearly this number by itself!
She didn't have much time to contemplate that though. Soon they were filing through the tables headed toward the sorting hat. She took Tom's hand and gave it a quick squeeze as he tried to figure out the enchantments on the ceiling. They were pretty, but they weren't that impressive when it came down to it. The spells had been a lot more impressive during the founder's time. All four of them had worked out the enchantment and nothing like it had ever been seen in the world. It was a mute testimony to the power of the Hogwarts four and good enough reason for many witches and wizards to send their children to them to learn.
Auvergne, Alaric was called first, and the students quickly figured out how the sorting was done. She was surprised that the hat didn't have a song or a speech, but that must be a new tradition…something Dumbledore put into place no doubt.
Granger, Hermione was called in due time. A couple of students in Hufflepuff exchanged glances at her name, but she kept her eyes forward.
The hat was placed on her head. "Interesting, most interesting Miss Granger. There are hints of future things here. I am glad to see the future me has gotten to have a bit of fun. Dippet has not been the most innovative headmaster. Now, we seem to have a decision before us. You are, as always, a true Gryffindor. There's no doubt in that. And Hufflepuff would be proud to have you. Ravenclaw is your natural environment perhaps…but to be quite honest I think you would find this group of Ravenclaws a bit dull. Lots of rules and very little innovation in this latest batch. And if the information in your head is correct, your friend Tom will most certainly belong in Slytherin. You're quite suited to the house during this time as well. You've grown much in cunning and ruthlessness in your long life…it's quite a treat to sort you a second time, even if I haven't done it the first time yet."
The blasted hat was positively chatty. She could tell everyone was waiting. It was officially a hat-stall.
I suppose putting us both in Gryffindor would be too much to ask?
The hat laughed in her head. "I don't know for certain, but off-hand I think it would be. If he is indeed one of Salazar's brood, there are enchantments that will place him in that house. Only Helga left the sorting of her descendants up to me. The others wanted to make sure their children went to the 'proper house'. Of course, I've sorted ten times the number of Hufflepuff descendants. The Ravenclaw line died out. Gryffindor never had children, and Salazar's kin tended to spawn in swamps and keep to themselves." She felt the hat's sorrow.
The others were waiting. She gave a slight nod and held her breath.
"Better be…Slytherin!"
The Slytherin table applauded quite enthusiastically (for them). Hat-stalls were fairly rare. The hat had debated for four minutes on her first go around, but she was clocked at well over five minutes this time. They were thought to indicate a powerful witch or wizard and oftentimes they did…but Hermione knew that Gilderoy Lockhart and Peter Pettigrew had been hatstalls or near hatstalls.
Then again, the most famous hatstall was Minerva McGonagall. She'd heard that the hat couldn't decide if she should be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.
Regardless, the hat's debate seemed to have cemented Abraxus' opinion of her. He welcomed her to the table with a flattering kiss to her hand and a broad smile. Hermione tried to calm her nerves without much success. This was such a bad idea. Not mentioning her ancestry from the safety of Gryffindor tower was one thing, but she was certain that lineage was a hot topic in the Slytherin common room.
A few other students were sorted while she thought furiously. Then she looked up when she heard "Riddle, Tom." The hat didn't even touch his head.
Tom smirked as he slid in beside her. Abraxus smiled at both of them. "I see your young chevalier has joined us Miss Granger."
She felt Tom tense at the term he didn't recognize. "He makes a wonderful knight in shining armor. I didn't doubt where he would be for a moment."
The sorting ended and the headmaster announced the feast after a particularly boring speech. Hermione sighed. Things were less interesting when your headmaster wasn't a mad eccentric genius.
Tom's manners were fine for a muggle, but he quickly noticed the slight differences and within the first few moments he was aping the pureblood manner. She didn't roll her eyes. This sort of thing was important for an orphan. Tom was a perfect chameleon when it came to fitting in. She wondered for a moment how he'd never managed to be adopted. Had Mrs. Cole had something to do with it, or was the darkness attacking him again?
She tried to gather information by listening to the conversation at the table. She only had mixed success with the Slytherins. On one hand, their conversation was supposed to be made up of the sort of polite nothings that implied things and never let another person know what was truly being said. Luckily for her, these were children and they weren't quite as good at this game as they liked to imagine. She could make out rivalries, family feuds, and even a couple of love affairs from her place beside the current Slytherin prince.
Like Draco, people deferred to Abraxas. He might be a fifth year in name, but he was the most influential person at the table. And a first year doing non-verbal magic had caught his interest.
She was surprised to note that every house had empty space at the tables and they weren't as long as they had been when she'd gone to Hogwarts. The pureblood noticed her distraction.
"Do the tables displease you Miss Granger?"
She shook her head. "If I am going to call you Abraxas, you must call me Hermione."
"Like the Queen from the Shakespearian play. It suits you."
Shakespeare had been a squib so she wasn't entirely surprised he was familiar with the character. She laughed lightly.
"Well Abraxas was a demon is Egyptian myth…I suppose you name suits you as well?"
His lips quirked into the signature Malfoy smirk. Dear Merlin…she couldn't believe that look was genetic!
"Perhaps it does my lady."
A girl with white-blond hair and beautiful skin made a noise like a wounded peacock.
Malfoy gave her a sideways glance. "Helga, what an uncouth noise to make at the innocent remark of a first year!"
Helga didn't say a word, but Hermione quickly decided that she'd probably annoyed the future Mrs. Malfoy.
Abraxas turned back to her with a satisfied smirk. He clearly enjoyed putting a dragon among the thestrals and was using her to do it.
She noticed that Tom's hand was on his wand and she reached over and gave his other hand a slight squeeze. Abraxas noted both the hand holding and the implied threat but didn't comment.
Dinner broke up soon after that and they followed the pale haired prefect down to the dungeon.
The password was given and memorized (asp) and Hermione left Tom for a few minutes to find her dorm and her new mates.
Cassiopeia and Dominia Goyle were already unpacking. They were very pretty girls. The twins were totally uninterested in any form of conversation with her (since they had never met, she must be a total non-entity of some sort).
Hermione unpacked with magic, and ignored the sidelong glances the girls gave her. She went back to the common room to find Tom.
Tom wasn't all that pleased with his roommates either. Phillip Carrow and Frederick Fudge were little lumps of boys who could barely hold their wands properly.
Phillip's cousin Augusta (known in later years to Hermione as Augusta Longbottom) was headgirl. Algiers Longbottom was the headboy from Gryffindor. If Hermione remembered correctly, he was the one who had dropped an eight year old Neville out of a window and tossed him off a pier. She made a mental note to send a nice stinging hex his way at some point.
She and Tom found an empty couch and were soon joined by a skinny boy who introduced himself as Odin Nott. His glasses were cracked and Hermione sighed. It seemed that she would forever be doing this spell. "Occulous, repario."
Nott took his glasses off and gave her a grateful nod. She smiled and returned her wand to her wrist holster.
Abraxas was behind her.
"Interesting way to carry your wand ."
She shrugged. "I like to keep it handy."
Abraxas looked at the leather harness that she'd conjured. Aurors used them in her time. Surely they weren't a new invention.
He smiled at her and took a seat on her other side. Tom gave the blond a slightly unfriendly look, but she caught his hand and he smiled back at her. He didn't share and play well with others. She had the feeling that he'd never wanted a friend before he met her, and he was rather proprietary about her now.
The talk turned to Quidditch. Tom was fascinated as Nott and Malfoy described fantastic games they'd been to. Hermione summoned a book from her room quietly.
The boys noticed. "Sorry…I just hate to waste time and there is a limit to how much Quidditch talk I can pay attention to. Please don't mind me. "
Malfoy apologized and took the conversation into more academic realms, including the dueling club. "You'll quite enjoy that Hermione."
She nodded, though she wasn't sure she would. She smiled at Tom. He was practically salivating. She gave him a playful nudge. "Tom will like it more than I will, I think. I can't wait for potions myself."
Malfoy continued to play the perfect host. He was incredibly charming and she was a little unnerved to be enjoying herself so much.
A mantel clock chimed eleven and Hermione shot up. "Tom! Our first day of classes is tomorrow! We have to…"
Tom claimed her hand again. "Nothing to panic over Hermione. Get some sleep."
His eyes told her that he wished she could stay with him, but that was impossible at Hogwarts.
She kissed his cheek. "You too."
The last thing she heard as she hurried up to the girl's dorm was Malfoy inquiring how two powerful wizards had ended up at the same muggle orphanage.
She sighed. She doubted that her dorm mates would be so obliging tomorrow night once Tom told them the truth about her bloodline.
AN: Thanks for all the reviews! I was hesitant to try this particular trope (it's been done so many times before)…but my muse insisted, so here we are. I'm glad other people are enjoying it too. Expect an update either Thursday or Friday (unless something unexpected happens).
