AN: The stuff in italics are direct quotations from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Chapter 13: The Secret Riddle. HP and canon belong to JK Rowling.

On the morning of July 26, 1938, Johan made his way to Wool's Orphanage, a grim, square building surrounded by high railings that housed fifty-some orphans of both genders, though that number varied widely from month to month. Johan was dressed in a simple suit and button-down shirt, with a cooling charm to keep him comfortable.He mounted the few steps leading to the front door and knocked once. After a moment or two, the door was opened by a scruffy girl wearing an apron.

"Good afternoon. I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole, who, I believe, is the matron here?"

"Yes, sir." Said the frazzled looking girl – apparently, caring for orphans was a tiring job. "Um. . . just a mo' . . . MRS. COLE!" she bellowed over her shoulder.

Johan heard a distant voice shouting something in response. The girl turned back to him. "Come in, she's on 'er way."

Johan stepped into a hallway tiled in black and white; the whole place was shabby but spotlessly clean. Before the front door had closed behind them, a skinny, harassed-looking woman came scurrying toward them. She had a sharp-featured face that appeared more anxious than unkind, and she was talking over her shoulder to another aproned helper as she walked toward Dumbledore.

". . . and take the iodine upstairs to Martha, Billy Stubbs has been picking his scabs and Eric Whalley's oozing all over his sheets - chicken pox on top of everything else," she said to nobody in particular before turning her attention to Johan. "Good afternoon, young man. I am Mrs. Cole. What is your business at our orphanage today?"

"Good afternoon," said Johan, holding out his hand which Mrs. Cole shook. "My name is Johan Tufts and I am here as a substitute for Albus Dumbledore. He sent you a letter requesting an appointment and you very kindly invited him here today. Unfortunately, something came up and he asked me to step in. I hope that is fine with you?"

"Of course, that is fine. Please follow me to my office." She led Johan into a small room that seemed part sitting room, part office. It was as shabby as the hallway and the furniture was old and mismatched. She invited Dumbledore to sit on a rickety chair and seated herself behind a cluttered desk, eyeing him curiously.

"I am here, as Dumbledore told you in his letter, to discuss Tom Riddle and arrangements for his future," said Johan.

"Is Mr. Dumbledore related to Tom?" asked Mrs. Cole.

"No, both he and I are teachers," said Johan. "I have come to offer Tom a place at our school."

"What school's this, then?"

"It is called Hogwarts," said Johan.

"And how come you're interested in Tom?"

"We believe he has qualities we are looking for."

"You mean he's won a scholarship? How can he have done? He's never been entered for one."

"Well, his name has been down for our school since birth -"

"Who registered him? His parents?"

There was no doubt that Mrs. Cole was an inconveniently sharp woman. Johan slipped his wand out of the pocket of his suit, at the same time picking up a piece of perfectly blank paper from Mrs. Cole's desktop.

"Here," said Johan, waving his wand once as he passed her the piece of paper, "I think this will make everything clear."

Mrs. Cole's eyes slid out of focus and back again as she gazed intently at the blank paper for a moment.

"That seems perfectly in order," she said placidly, handing it back.

"Er - may I offer you a glass of water?" She asked.

"No, thank you. May I speak to Tom? I need to take him shopping for his school supplies." He did not need to ask about Tom Riddle since Harry Potter's memories showed him what she would say.

"He's definitely got a place at your school, you say?"

"Definitely," said Johan.

"You'll be taking him away, whatever?"

"Whatever," repeated Johan gravely.

She squinted at him as though deciding whether or not to trust him. Apparently she decided she could, because she nodded her head. "Alright, then."

She led him out of her office and up the stone stairs, calling out instructions and admonitions to helpers and children as she passed. The orphans, Johan saw, were all wearing the same kind of grayish tunic. They looked reasonably well-cared for, but there was no denying that this was a grim place in which to grow up.

"Here we are," said Mrs. Cole, as they turned off the second landing and stopped outside the first door in a long corridor. She knocked twice and entered.

"Tom? You've got a visitor. This is Mr. Tufts. He's come to tell you - well, I'll let him do it."

Johan entered the room, and Mrs. Cole closed the door on them. It was a small bare room with nothing in it except an old wardrobe, a well-used desk with a hard wooden chair, and an iron bedstead. A boy was sitting on top of the gray blankets, his legs stretched out in front of him, holding a book.