Hello my little loves! I'm back again, I took a little more care with this chapter as it covered a lot of the background plot that will be covered lately. Orginally I had planned for H&T to go to Hogwarts in this chapter but there was just so much background to cover that I decided to split them up. Moving on! Now, as of last chapter, we hit over 150 follows and 50 reviews! Thank you all so much, I'm so glad you're enjoying this journey with me. So as a reward for all your lovely words, and just to check if anybody actually reads these things, I'm having a little competition for you! The details will be posted in the opening statement of the next chapter - so keep your eyes peeled! Now enough chit chat, on with chapter four!

Chapter 4

The journey to her godparents had been a quiet one. Uncle Leo, not trusting the trains to deliver them safely after hearing of the ongoing discord happening throughout Europe, had ordered his driver to pick them up from the Wool's early that morning. It had caused a great stir in the dining hall as, once many of the children noticed the long car pulling up outside the wrought iron gates, they had forgotten their food and crowded the windows - knocking over several chairs and trays in the process. Mrs Cole had shrieked at the mess but roughly jostled the crowd aside so she too could peer through the windows. A thick moustachioed driver and a well muscled, dark skinned male exited the car, both walking swiftly towards the doors of the orphanage. They were admitted entry by a startled Jenny and were consequently led into the dining hall. The children all scrambled back to their original places and Mrs Cole moved forward to greet the men. Hermione and Tom had giggled as she started into the 'wobble walk' she only did for male visitors and stood to follow her path to the men. The tough looking individuals - ignoring Mrs Cole's breathy greeting - turned to Hermione and bowed their heads.

"Dobraye ootro, Miss Hermione." The driver hand removed his hat and held out his hand to her. Hermione squeezed it gently and smiled up at him in greeting.

"Good morning to you Boris, how have you been?" Boris scratched his moustache and patted her hand.

"My days are good, Miss Hermione. Youngest syn Alexei has moved to school." Hermione nodded her understanding and moved to greet the other gentleman. The darker skinned man however, was not so formal, and picked Hermione up in his arms, hugging her to his chest. She felt Tom move defensively behind her but Hermione just laughed.

"Hello to you too 'Slavi!" The muscled giant placed her back on her feet and she turned quickly to Tom - rolling her eyes fondly as his own checked her over for injuries.

"Tom, I'd like you to meet Boris Pochenko and Vyacheslav Bogatyr. They are my Uncle Leo's body guards and have been with our families for years. Practically my other Uncle's right?" Boris twitched a smile at her and nodded his head to Tom who returned it respectfully. 'Slavi' moved to embrace Tom, but seemed to think better of it after a look from Hermione. Noticing Tom's posture relax slightly out of the corner of her eye, she knew she'd done the right thing.

"Where are your meshki Miss Hermione, Mister Tom?"

"They're up those stairs in my room Boris, it's shestoy on the right."

"Gospozha." And with that, the two men turned and left the hall.

"Russian Hermione?" Tom asked curiously. And, upon seeing her coy smile, shot back one of his own. "You'll have to teach me."

The silence, that had descended quickly upon their entry, soon revived itself as the hall filled with excited whispers. Mrs Cole, who unfortunately was not as pleased as the the rest of the room, spluttered indignantly at Hermione.

"Miss Granger, I am simply quite shocked! What ill-mannered employees your Uncle keeps! I shall be writing to him immediately to inform him off the impertinence of his staff. I've never seen such a display." Hermione almost laughed, watching the grown woman do all but stamp her foot. But worrying about the repercussions on their trip, she decided to smooth some ruffled feathers.

"Oh no Mrs Cole, please don't do that!" Hermione shot her the biggest puppy eyes she could manage and slightly hunched her posture to appear saddened.

"It is simply their custom in Russia Madam. They are unused to being in the presence of such a high class, attractive lady - meaning yourself of course. They didn't wish to offend or shame you by showering you with attention, in fact they pay you a great compliment by not addressing you at all." Beside her she could feel Tom shaking against her arm; his barely restrained laughter evident to none but her as his face remained impassive. It was not at all helpful for the situation at hand and Hermione found herself rather annoyed at his lack of cooperation.

"I hope you understand and all is well for you now. Please Mrs Cole, I cannot bear to see you hurt." Hermione, slightly nauseated by her own words, had hit the nail right on the head. Mrs Cole's eyes sparked brightly and she shook her bobbed hair gaily.

"Well," She said breezily. "It seems I was wrong about them. What well intentioned young men! As you say, I'm now quite sure such fine specimens cannot be so ill disposed." Tom's shudder of disgust brushed against her once more and it took all of her composure not to join in.

"Of course Mrs Cole," Spotting Slavi and Boris carrying their bags to the front door, Hermione took hold of Tom's hand and smiled an angelic smile towards their matron. "But we must be going now, I'm afraid. I'll miss you all terribly while we're away, but we'll be back for the yearly trip with Mr Wool in August."

"What a sweet child you are! I hope you have a safe journey and a good trip. Erm…" Pausing for a moment to look at Tom she steeled herself and continued. "You too I suppose Mr Riddle, try not to create too much trouble for Miss Granger."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Mrs Cole."

Hermione and Tom had slotted quickly into place in the car and the latter had soon fallen asleep to the sounds of the crackling radio. Hermione found that she couldn't sleep as she watched Tom's face rest serenely - something she was sure only she had ever seen. She couldn't help but think how much younger it made him look. The years before Hermione had come to the orphanage had been hard for him; she only knew as much as he told her, but the permanent stripes across his back told her the rest. Her mind wandered uneasily into the realm of what ifs; what if she'd never come to the orphanage? What would have become of Tom? Hermione hated the feeling she was having. It was a mixture of responsibility and impending sorrow; a burden she was shouldered with, much like punishment of Sisyphus. Only instead, of a boulder, it was Tom she'd have to keep hold of - and ensure he'd never fall and crush her. Enough now, Hermione thought, drawing herself back away from that dark place. Her internal battle could be put on hold for now, after all she had far more important ventures ahead of her. Hogwarts was growing ever closer, it's knowledge and magic just waiting to embrace her. Dumbledore had told her much of the school's library and Hermione's mouth watered at the prospect of new books. Thinking of Dumbledore brought her back to her current journey; she'd omitted and mention of him in her last letter to her godfather, wanting to see the look in his eyes as she mentioned his name. Uncle Leo wasn't much of a liar, not that he often tried, but Hermione worried about the aloofness of Dumbledore's words.

"...that is a conversation best left between the two of you…"

What had he meant? Was her Uncle like her? Had her parents known anything about her magic? These were all questions she held inside her; questions she'd have answered today, though the prospect of their answers terrified her.

OoO

Tom opened his eyes slowly. A wild curl of Hermione's hair was tickling his nose and, as he pulled it away from his face, three more fell to join it. Tilting his head slightly, he could see Hermione's face curled into his shoulder; her small weight so delicate against his side that - if he hadn't have looked down - he'd hardly have noticed. Tom suppressed a smile, it seemed no matter where they were his sleeping beauty would always be beside him. He hoped that would never be the case; the dark, possessive side of his heart - the part that whispered mine at every breath she took and every tiny noise she made - enjoyed the warm feeling that burrowed in the pit of his stomach. Before she came along he'd not known he could feel this warm, and the feeling became known to him as simply 'Hermione'. He'd felt the way it curdled as she watched her parents memory burn, her pain had roared in his ears as his darkness whipped around him. The need to punish them all, the need to hurt and burn.

After Dumbledore's visit, Hermione had been more distracted than usual. Alongside preparing for their trip, she'd also thrown herself into the pursuit of knowledge about magic. Whilst it made him happy to see her so enthusiastic again - this coupled with the knowledge that they really were magic caused many a public slip of happiness from him in past few day - he couldn't help but think back to the cause of her misery in the weeks past. It was these dark thoughts that led him to cornering Eric Whalley in the cleaning shed. Eric had crumbled instantly; the bravado that was always displayed at Billy's side was sorely lacking once confronted alone and he was left flailing like a fish as Tom clasped his magic around his throat. He smiled at the memory of it.

"Please, pl-ugh!" The boy gurgled and gasped under Tom's targeted gaze. He smirked coldly as he watched him writhe on the floor beneath him. As the boy changed colour once more, Tom released the hold on him with a snap. The boy keeled onto his side, clutching his neck as he coughed and wretched like the air around him was poison.

"I said, Eric, what do you know?" Tom asked again, his voice so cold and high it was almost unrecognisable compared to his usual baritone. Eric, who was still coughing loudly on the ground, held up his hands - in a desperate attempt to beg mercy.

"Please Tom, I swear I don't kn-" He was cut off by a blow to his right cheek. Tom had backhanded him. This was especially shocking as it was common knowledge that he never touched anyone - besides Hermione - and especially not those he deemed filth. It seemed everything became blurred when she was involved.

"Now Eric," Tom said, his voice so soft it almost sounded pitying. "Don't insult your betters. We're not all as stupid as you are. Or half so bad at lying." Eric trembled on the ground. He was past the point of pretending to be brave now Tom observed, snot and tears dripping from the older boy's face. How disgusting, he thought. What was the word Dumbledore had used again?

Muggles.

Tom sneered, thinking it suited them perfectly. The word, for him, sounded like people who were dirty and worthless, just like the scum at his feet. He placed his foot on Eric's chest and pushed hard, using his magic to make the weight feel heavy. The boy beneath it cried out in pain as his ribs began to creak.

"Wait," Eric wailed out, his panicked voice making Tom's head hum with pleasure. "STOP! I'm sorry. I'll tell you. Please… I'LL TELL YOU!" And with that, Tom removed his foot and dropped to a crouch besides the boys head. Trembling, Eric blinked up at him in fear and wiped a hand over his face.

"They were angry, the older girls were angry. They wanted Broom- Hermione to suffer. Said they'd cut up her clothes or bed sheets or something, I-I don't know! But they didn't know where her room was. They came into the dinner hall asking. Billy and I said nothing Tom, I swear we d-didn't! It was that Amy slag, she swaggered up to them, her and that little Dennis creep, and told them she knew what would hurt her most. She was the one who did it Tom, and I know he helped her. It wasn't m-me I swear! I s-swear it, p-please…" The boy started sobbing disgustingly one more and Tom tutted at him exasperatedly, standing up once more.

"Honestly Eric," He sighed, a bored expression appearing once more on his face. "Now was that so difficult?" And with that, he kicked some dirt onto the older boys face and walked away.

They had three months. Three months left of their lives, Tom thought with glee. He'd leave the Bishop girl out of it - Hermione was fond of her as her first friend and there was no real evidence to suggest her involvement - but the boy and Benson were his. He knew informing Hermione to join him - or even participate - was something akin to stupid so he decided to plan it privately. He would, however, inform her of his actions in post. That way there would be less of her anger and the logical side of her would see the reason behind his 'justice'. Tom wasn't sure how he wanted to deal with them; it was a given he'd use his magic to punish them but it would need to be long lasting for the pain they caused her. She was his and he'd make sure it was a message they never forgot. Sliding his arm around her, Tom stroked Hermione's mane. He never wanted to see that kind of pain in her eyes again. She was his queen, just as he was her king and he'd slaughter anyone who so much as breathed her name wrong with his bare hands. But enough of his revenge, Tom thought. He could plan the particulars later.

For the first time in his life, Tom felt nervous. He was heading into unknown territory, a place Hermione coveted dearly but it was not quite her home. Her godparents, though already having welcomed Tom, were unknown to him. It was an unpredictable situation he found himself in and Tom hated not being in control. It was different with Hermione, her bossy tendencies worked well with his unflinching authority, as she maintained him with structure and he gave her purpose. But entering into a new place with new people without an end goal was something practically foreign to him. Hermione would take the lead, as she usually did with such social dealings, and Tom would follow from their - his usual path of observe and adapt would work perfectly as always. Ah yes, Tom thought, he would most certainly use his time wisely. He was, after all, a very charming young man when he wished to be, it was easy to identify people's vanity and exploit it for his own means. Though a small part of him felt desolate; at the orphanage Hermione was his, they moved together fluidly, always working as one. Now he was about to meet two people who'd had her first and Tom was not good at sharing. It was also unnerving how quickly the two had accepted him and his relationship with her, he'd thought that they simply trusted her judgement but deep down he hoped that they would like him all the same.

Against his side he felt Hermione begin to stir, Tom continually stroking her curls as she unconsciously burrowed closer to him and took the opportunity to look out of the window. He held back a gasp. Never before had he seen a sky so clear or houses so brightly coloured; the town was such a stark contrast to the harsh grey and ash coloured buildings he was used to - not to mention the dirty industrial skies. He squinted up ahead, seeing the beginnings of a harbour from the approaching shoreline, Tom felt he should wake Hermione. They still had some things to go over before they got to the godparent's home and he still wasn't sure where they stood on sharing the news of Hogwarts. Tom really hated being unprepared. Tapping her head softy and moving to lean against her ear, he began to whisper to her softly.

"Hermione, we're almost there. Wake up princess." Using the smooth endearment that she always loved was a sure fire way to wake her, and sure enough she began to stretch against him. Tom always found it amusing just how much Hermione reminded him of a cat; she loved finding warm spots to sit/stay in and, judging by her propensity to burrow into him, sleep in also. She was soft, much like he imagined a feline's fur to be and had a way of mewling in her sleep. All this coupled with the fact that - at her most riled - her hair sometimes resembled that of a lion's mane, and she had the claws to match. Such a contrast to his cold, serpentine self. She was by far the more emotional of the two of them, but he was still the most dangerous. They certainly were an oddly suited pair.

Hermione sat up, the momentary confusion in her eyes disappearing as Tom grasped her hand. He always like they way they glowed once she awoke, it was as if they reacted to her seeing him - a notion that pleased him greatly.

"I think we're getting close to the chateau." He murmured to her gently.

OoO

"Miss Hermione, Mister Tom, we are close to the rezidentsiya." Boris called out from his place in the driver's seat.

Hermione sat up straight, keeping hold of Tom's hand as she peered out of the window. She'd awoken from a lovely dream about her and Tom riding in a carriage and was startled momentarily when he roused her. Registering Boris's words, she could clearly see the gates to their final path. They had only cross them and take the path up the stunted cliff side and they'd be at the estate in no time.

"How close are we Boris?" She heard Tom ask cautiously.

"It will be visible soon Mister Tom. Less than minut I think."

Hermione could sense Tom's apprehension as they stopped in front of the gate. The armed guards looked as friendly as Boris and 'Slavi had originally appeared, but a few of them recognised her and bowed amiably through the window.

It'd been a slow climb up the hillside, but as they reached the top they could see a line of people - male and female, ranging from teens to greying adults - standing still outside of the large house. Hermione smiled warmly, she'd always loved this house. Her aunt Estella was descended from a long line of Botanists and as such had a vast enjoyment in maintaining the beauty of her gardens. She'd planted beautiful rose bushes all along the windows and Hermione could see the famous 'golden' pear tree standing starkly in the distance behind the house.

The house itself was not unchanged from Hermione's last visit - some ten months ago. Its wide timber doors painted a clean white colour, standing out prettily against the brown brick work. Vast lines of white windows outline the house and the white railings beneath them were wrapped with gently curled ivy vines. The modern chimney piece blended nicely with the reddish roof and she could see several birds resting atop it. The neat brickwork contrasted prettily with the nature surrounding it and Hermione could distantly see the green of the sea water waving gracefully behind the property. Whilst the wide rectangular exterior did it's best to contain the vastness of the property, Hermione already knew just how much bigger it was on the inside.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Tom's wide eyes - they were swallowing all before him, his obsidian orbs sparkling with wonder and they circled the fountain and parked in front of the line of people. Hermione saw a few faces she recognised, some of the older maids and servants she'd known as a young child stood poised in line, but Hermione was surprised too see so many new younger faces. Most were female and she suspected her aunt had seen something in her gossip magazines about the new fashions in prominent households.

Moving to release Tom's hand, she found the more she tried to pull away the tighter his hold became. His face remained impassive as always, but Hermione could see the subtle plea in his eyes for her to stay with him. Sighing, she slumped back in her seat and waited for 'Slavi to open the door. As much as she loved Tom - he was her best friend after all - she sometimes found his reluctance to be without her suffocating.

The door to their car opened and she clambered over Tom - who hadn't moved, pulling him out of the vehicle as the door closed behind them delicately. She heard Tom thank 'Slavi quietly and smiled at him. Suddenly a shrill voice could be heard and several small maids jumped aside hastily.

"Is that my darlin'? Hermione, honey! Is your young man with y'all?" The loud, American accented voice grew higher as Hermione pulled Tom through the double doors.

"Aunt Estella? Yes we're here, where are you?"

She was almost knocked off of her feet when, moments later, a buxom woman in a bright yellow sundress hugged both her and Tom to her chest.

"My darlin's y'all are here!" They were released from her heavily perfumed hold and held at an arms length - both children taking a moment to breathe deeply as the former Belle rained down upon them.

"Oh it's been so long, honey that hair is just' wild as a tumbleweed! Oh my, this the young man you've been tellin' us about? Oh the stars he is just handsomest little fella!" The startled look on Tom's face caused Hermione to start laughing; it was rare to see his expression unguarded - something Hermione only experience when they were alone - and to see it now in such an odd situation pleased her immensely.

"Tom, I'd like you to meet my Aunt Estella. Aunt Estella this is my best friend Tom." Tom bowed politely at her with a respectable 'Ma'am'.

"Why I'll be, such a polite gentleman!"

"Don't mind the way she talks Tom," Hermione chuckled. "She's a reformed southern Belle." Aunt Estella swatted at her fondly and wrapped an arm around each of the children.

"Now that we're all acquainted, let's go find your Uncle Leo - he's hiding around here somewhere, I just know it!" Boris entered behind them carrying Hermione's case and Tom's trunk.

"Boris honey, leave the bags to the maids, grab 'Slavi and get your butts in here!"

OoO

It appeared there was no arguing with the lady of the house once she was set on something. After finding and greeting Leo she had ushered them all - Boris and Slavi included - to the dining room and called for lunch to be served. The dining hall at Wool's appeared pitifully tiny in comparison as they'd been seated at the table. She'd introduced them to the chef and kitchen staff briefly and then seated them all neatly around the round table in the middle of the room. When Tom had whispered to Hermione, asking why the table was not rectangular, Hermione explained her Uncle Leo's policy about everyone having an equal place at the table. Tom thought that he could easily come to respect this man.

Tom had released Hermione's hand reluctantly as they sat down but felt at ease for the moment. He established that he liked both of her godparents well enough and the feeling appeared mutual. Her - though she insisted on being called 'Aunt' by him also - Aunt Estella's persistent and sunny disposition was hard to discourage and Hermione had warned him early on not to try, but Tom found he could bear her actions easily as she did not seem to be hiding any ulterior reasons for doing so. Her Uncle Leo, on the other hand, was a calm eyed gentleman with a large star shaped scar across his right eye. Despite his tough appearance, he was a warm and generous man who seemed to adore his talkative wife and respect his workers greatly. Tom had noticed the kind way he dealt with a nervous server who'd spilt the tea brought to him - instead of admonishing her he'd merely joked with his curling Russian accent and waved away her 'unnecessary' apology. His behaviour told Tom of his worldly background, before any stories were told, and it was clear to him that - like Hermione - these people were not ruled by their wealth or position. For the first time among strangers, Tom felt almost at ease.

"Now my deti," Uncle Leo's jovial voice swum across the table. "I hope you will be pleased with the rooms we've provided you. George and Vasilisa will take you up to see them after dinner. But first, let us catch up! My little Hermione, I have not seen you in so long. I have missed you greatly. And Tom, my krestnitsa has told me much about you. Her affection for you is good in my eyes. Perhaps we shall come to share it one day, I've always wanted a, how you say, nee-phew. I hope you come to think of us as sem'ya in good time also. I have a feeling we will be seeing you for many years to come." Tom wasn't sure whether to feel threatened or comforted by the man's words - though the translations from Hermione helped somewhat. Beside her husband, Aunt Estella just laughed.

"Oh Leo, don't you go scarin' the boy now! He'll never wanna come back here with you sizin' him up to takeover!" Her southern twang was strong the more amused she became, but Tom observed it wasn't an overly unpleasant sound. Uncle Leo joined in her laughter.

"I'm sorry my children, my mouth gets carried away with me. Let us pick a new subject. Tom, Hermione, how have you been faring at that orphanage? Please dragotsennyy, tell me you've decided to let me burn it down after all!" Tom repressed as smile as Hermione scolded her godfather.

"Uncle Leo net! Leave it alone, we only have a few more year to go. In any case, we have some exciting news."

She was interrupted by the servers coming to collect the plates, as they were collecting them and Estella began to suggest dessert, Boris and 'Slavi politely excused themselves and were halted from exiting the dining hall by Leo and Estella's protests. Tom took this distracted opportunity to whisper with Hermione.

"Now Hermione? Are you sure you'd like to tell them so soon?" She looked nervously over at her relatives but nodded her head determinedly.

"It's either now or I lose my nerve." She whispered. Her relatives were still arguing with the two men but luckily they were saved by the dessert platters arrival. Tom had never seen so many types of cake or pudding before - the starved little boy deep down inside of him wanted to snatch the tray out of the waiters hands and run to his room with it, but he calmed himself by thinking of how much more cake there'd be for the next three months. Reaching for Hermione's bowl, he spooned her some trifle and then got some for himself.

"Hermione, honey, you were sayin' somethin' about some news?" Her Aunt Estella stared at them both expectantly. Hermione looked over at him and he nodded reassuringly back at her.

"Well," She started. "Do you remember when I was a little girl and I accidentally set fire to the curtains in the guest room?" Uncle Leo laughed.

"Oh yes! I'd almost forgotten, I've never been so gordyy of you. Little Hermione fire bringer." He chortled heartily as Hermione blushed prettily.

"Well do you remember what my mother said to you Aunt Estella?"

"Why yes honey, she said not t'be too angry with you 'cause it wasn't your fault. I remember your mama said somethin' about a gift?" Hermione smiled and nodded her head. Tom looked over at Uncle Leo and saw him staring curiously at Hermione, he couldn't quite put a finger on the look but it seemed almost like something he'd long awaited was about to pass.

"Yes a gift Aunt Estella. Now as you know my mother and father always thought my gift was something special that only I had. But, when I went to the orphanage and met Tom, I discovered that I wasn't alone at all! Tom has a gift too." Uncle Leo now looked over at Tom too, his discomfort over the scrutiny was numbed by the delighted look on Aunt Estella's face as she clapped her hands together with glee.

"Oh that's just lovely honey, I'm so glad you two found each other."

"So for a while it was just the two of us and our gifts, until one day last week we received a visit from a man. He said his name was Professor Dumbledore and he was from a school named Hogwarts." Tom watched Leo's face carefully and was pleased to see it freeze upon hearing Dumbledore's name.

"Anyway he told Tom and I that our gifts weren't just anything. It was actually magic, magic that lived inside of us. And then he told us we were witches and wizards and we'd been accepted into his special school so we could learn all about it." There was silence across the dinner table. Beside him, Hermione coughed a little at Tom and he nodded across the table at the two godparents.

"Yes," He said slowly, in his most adult tone. "We were both asked and we both accepted. So we shall start our education there in the fall." Still they were met with silence. Hermione began to fidget beside him, he knew she was growing uncomfortable at the extended silence but made no further attempt to break it.

Abruptly, Uncle Leo stood from the table and looked down at the two children. There was silence for just a second as he looked them both in the eyes and then a slow grin began to spread across his face.

"Well," He said thickly. "It's about time." And then turned and strode from the room.

OoO

Hermione was utterly flabbergasted, looking at Tom beside her she could see he was a little less shocked than her - but the tension in his posture couldn't hide the surprise.

"Where- Where's he going Aunt Estella?" Hermione asked, looking over at her for help - the woman was was practically bouncing in her chair. She looked back at Hermione exasperatedly.

"It's a celebration my dear, sweet babies! We were worried good ole' Albie would never get to y'all!" Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth and, unconsciously began to nibble at her fingers. Tom swooped in beside her and pulled them under the table, holding them fast in his own. She knew how much he hated when she did that, and somehow he always knew it was happening before she did.

At that moment Uncle Leo reentered the room with a bottle of something tall and bubbly and four small champagne glasses. Pouring the drinks for everyone - Hermione remembered the exceptions of alcohol for minors in their house was bound to celebrations only - and leading them in a toast. Once he had seated himself once more, Hermione rounded on him.

"How on earth can you know these things, both of you? You're so calm about this situation, do you possess magic like us? You are acquainted with Professor Dumbledore enough for informalities and yet he would not tell me the nature of your relationship. Please, I'd like some answers." Aunt Estella smiled over at Uncle Leo, reaching up to stroke the scar on his face, and he looked tiredly back at her.

"Sladkiy, I think it is time to fess up. Would you like me to go first?" Aunt Estella nodded gratefully, and excused herself to speak with the maid.

"Now, my young friends. Shall we move to somewhere more comfortable?"

After they had settled in the library and tea was served, Hermione leant forward to begin her questioning but was cut off as her Uncle held a hand.

"Hermione, rebenok, I would never deny you. You're curious mind is what made you dearest to me. But for once, I ask you to listen and wait. You, and of course you also Tom, may ask any questions of me you wish. But after the istoriya."

Hermione made to object, but surprisingly, Tom answered for her.

"Of course sir, we shall try to restrain ourselves."

"There is no need for 'ser' in this house Tom, if you cannot call me Uncle just yet then please - Leo will do." Tom nodded and sipped his tea. Hermione wasn't sure, but for a moment she thought she saw a flash of a smile in his eyes.

"Now, where to begin. My istoriya with Albus is a long one, I think maybe we cover my family first. As you know I am a Grigori - the last Grigori as my family are long dead. The name 'Grigori' here means much wealth - like the name 'Granger' - but what you don't know is what that name means back in Rossiya. In my country, the Grigori's are known as one of the oldest and most pure wizarding families in its lifetime." Hermione let out a gasp of shock.

"So it's true then Uncle, you are like us?" To her confusion, Uncle Leo shook his head at her.

"No my little one, I am net." Beside her, Tom leant forward tentatively.

"If I may si- I mean, Uncle Leo," He sounded slightly strained but continued nonetheless. "What do you mean when you say 'pure'?"

"Chistaya krov' - or 'pureblood' in your language, Tom. It is a term old magic families use to describe themselves. It just means that there was no member of the made or born without magical lineage." Tom nodded and moved back next to Hermione who gestured for her godfather to continue.

"Now I shall continue. Unlike the rest of them, I was born without magic. My brother before me had magic. He was nearly desyat' let born before me but he had his own… Deformities. Whilst his were, physical, mine were magical. They call people like me squib - though there is no word for this in my country. I also had a sister, but she died shortly after her birth." He paused, taking a sip of his tea as Hermione and Tom murmured their condolences. Waving them off lightly, he continued on.

"As you can expect, my vospitaniye was a little different of that than my brother's. I was shut in doors a lot of the time and hidden during family events whilst he was taught dark spells. My brother's acceptance to Durmstrang was the final straw for my father. He sent me to live in the mountains in a private rezidentsiya - it was against blood code to cast me out entirely. And that was where I met Dumbledore. He and his kompan'on Grindelwald came to my home, in my late teens, seeking shelter for the night. They'd sensed the magical ward around the home and had assumed I was likewise. However, upon learning that I was in fact a squib, they asked to stay longer and talked to me about there cause. It seemed that they wished to see dominion over prosto - er how you say, muggles. They convinced me that my magic had simply been thieved by 'mudbloods' - a bad name for magical children of muggles." Hermione put down her tea and began to nibble at her fingers. Was that what she was? A mudblood. The term sounded like a dirty profanity, unlike the things Tom would murmur in anger at the orphanage, this word made her feel oily and cold. Tom reached for her hands again, pulling them away from her face. His silent act of control forming a source of comfort for her.

"I am truly sorry for it now, I was young and - how you say - idiot back then. Gellert had a way of making people follow his words, even Albus was his follower for a time." He sighed rubbing his hand slowly across his face, thumb catching slightly in his large scar.

"I funded their ventures for a while, even lent them my house for headquarters and recruiting. But seeing the way Grindelwald hurt people and killed easily, hurt me so. His followers were brutal, and they had no problem proving it. One day Albus had enough of Gellert's ways, he began to see that the path he'd taken was wrong. They duelled and we managed to escape with the help of some muggle revolutionaries - left over from the Bolshevik rebellion. That was how I got this lovely mark, it is - how you say - cur-sed mark. Grindelwald was not pleased with Dumbledore's betrayal; his flight with mere muggles left him more enraged than you can imagine. If it were not for the allies, we would not have survived. You've met two of their former members - Boris and 'Slavi," At Hermione's gasp he nodded his head gravely. "Yes, those two were particularly formidable. But I'm grateful to them forevermore, they helped me to see the wickedness I was serving - gave me the strength to ukhodi from it… Unfortunately my defiance meant in the murder of my entire family." Silence greeted him and neither Tom or Hermione could find the words to say, so he continued once more.

"Charisse and Warner Granger were some of the first people I met coming to Angliya. As sole heir to my families fortunes, I worked hard to gain my position among the main players in your country. Warner and I became great friends, as I'm sure you know I was best man for your parents wedding svad'ba shortly after. Once they had you and I saw the magic you clearly possessed, I was convinced more than ever I had done the right thing by leaving my country. That is until your father and Charisse died." Hermione looked down sadly and felt Tom squeeze her hands tightly.

"I'm sure that's enough for now little ones." Uncle Leo said softly. "It has been a long journey for you and I'm sure you wish to get some rest. I'll have George and Vasilisa show you to your rooms."

OoO

Tom curled Hermione into his chest, her tears soaking his cotton pajama top as he stroked her hair firmy. Sometime in the night he had heard the muffled sobs coming from the room beside his and had gone to comfort her. He wasn't getting much sleep to begin with, Tom found it nearly impossible to sleep without holding her tiny frame against him now, but this was the first night she'd broken so completely. He knew why she cried. She cried for her parents, the pain of their loss. She cried for the desecration of their memories back at the orphanage. She cried for her Uncle Leo and the story of his past. The tale of Aunt Estella's cruel first marriage.

Just before they were taken away by the maid and manservant, Aunt Estella had come bustling into the room. It was then Hermione asked her Uncle how the two of them had really met - since apparently the subject had never come up before.

To summarise, after the fall of the American stock market, Leo and Hermione's father Warner has gone across the pond to find out about expanding their company's efforts westward. It was there that they'd met ruthless business man Johnathon Croften and his timid wife Estella Croften. Leo fell in love with her immediately and often took to escorting her whilst Warner and her husband talked business. Out of the shadow of her husband, he soon saw that she was a charming and beautiful presence - it was soon after he learnt of her magic, she was not particularly strong at spell work - having never been allowed to practice - but her ability in legilimency was unparalleled. It was at the celebration dinner, one night after concluding their business, that Hermione's mother Charisse discovered the abuse. Her husband beat her often - it seemed her "unholy talents" displeased him - and her inability to stay away from his thoughts made her vulnerable to his control. Leo had promised to take her back to England with him and the Grangers but, the day before they were due to leave, Johnathon found out. He beat Estella within an inch of her life and raped her so badly she could no longer bear children. She was also devastated to find - once she awoke - that she could no longer use her magic. Leo brought her back to England with them and nursed her back to health and the two of them married 5 years later. Johnathon had died of a drug overdose sometime beforehand and the two were free once more. Estella never regained the use of her magic, but she could always tell what her husband was thinking.

Tom held his queen tightly to his chest as her small sobs became tired sighs. Oh yes he knew her sorrow, but he knew what pained her most of all. He knew that despite all of this, most of all she cried for him and herself. Her idealistic world of magic - a world of children just like them that would accept them no question, like they'd never had from other children before - had been shattered. He too felt pained at hearing their slurred moniker - mudbloods. That was what the wizarding world thought of their gifts. They were blackened before they'd even arrived.

Well he'd show them. He'd show them all; Grindelwald, the pureblood families, the wizarding world would soon come to see that people like he and Hermione were their equal to them. No, Tom thought, as he buried his nose in Hermione's hair. Not equal, better.

OoO

That's all for now folks, sorry about not being able to include Hogwarts in this chapter. Keep an eye out for Chapter 5 which will be appearing shortly after this one! I'm breaking my rule of posting twice in one day because I've let you dears down. Hermione and Tom will be going to Hogwarts! BUT, not before some interesting conversations and spectacularly dark events… I'll save my thank you's and speeches for the next chapters intro. For now though, here's a glossary of all the Russian words I used in this chapter. They aren't the actual Russian words, as working with an English and Russian keyboard simultaneously can be difficult. But they are the English interpretations of the way they sound - you can thank my very own Russian aunt Natalija for these haha!

Russian List

Dobraye ootro - Good Morning

Syn - Son

Meshki - Bags

Shestoy - Sixth

Gospozha - Mistress

Rezidentsiya - Residency

Minut - Minute

Deti - Children

Krestnitsa - Goddaughter

Sem'ya - Family

Dragotsennyy - Precious

Net - No

Sladkiy - Darling

Durak - A Fool

Rebenok - Child

Istoryia - History/Story

Rosiya - Russia

Chistaya Krov' - Pureblood

Desyat' Let - Ten Years

Vospitaniye - Upbringing

Prosto - Plain/Ordinary

Ukhodi - Get Away

Angliya - England

Svad'ba - Nuptials