Okay, because I didn't want to post a story that starts with quoted dialog...here's my bit!

~o0o~

Chapter One

London, England

20 June, 1942 (Saturday)

As Tom Riddle got off the train and stepped onto Platform 9¾, he scowled. It had been a trying term at Hogwarts, but this was his least favorite time of the year—he despised returning to Wool's Orphanage, where he had to live a mundane summer with the Muggles! He told himself that this was the summer he would figure out more about his relations—and why there was no one in his life. Of course, he told himself that every year at term end, but hadn't yet attained the information he wanted. He suspected that Mrs Cole knew more, but the woman was horribly unhelpful.

Glancing around surreptitiously, he observed his housemates—and other House classmates—joining their families and resisted the urge hex one or all of them.

"Look at them!" he hissed under his breath. "Going off to happy homes!" It didn't occur to him that, with the war raging on, no one's home was overly pleasant at the moment. And that a lot of them were lacking basic needs.

Still grumbling, he turned toward the train, his mind going to his meager Muggle belongings. He would need to remove his robes before going through the barrier, but wanted everyone to be gone before he did so, so they wouldn't see what he wore underneath. He'd need his trunk for that though, to stow his robes—and maybe his wand.

He didn't have too long to wait for his trunk, but he was still annoyed by the time it was taking. It was late in the day and he knew that, because of the Muggle war going on, he didn't have much time to get himself out of the station and onto the proper line to take him back to his "home."

Home, he thought wearily—and furiously! No doubt Mrs Cole wouldn't venture out of the orphanage this close to dark. Never mind that he'd been on a train for hours. He tried to tell himself that she was just a fearful Muggle—that she couldn't help herself—but it angered him nonetheless.

When he saw his trunk being removed from the train, he went over to it and was pleased to find that Slughorn's lightening charm was still working. This would make his life a tad easier, since he would have to lug it from the platform, then over to the underground and onto the Tube—where he may have to change lines more than once.

Ignoring all the other people milling about—who were still greeting their loving families—Tom grimaced and pretended to be busy looking through his satchel as he waited for the stragglers to clear. When he was the last on the platform, he divested himself of his robes and meticulously folded them and placed them in his trunk for next term, then slipped his wand into his shoulder bag to keep it close—just in case. And finally, he smoothed out his shirt and trousers and left the platform.

Up above he checked his Muggle money—he didn't have much—then looked to see what would be his best option to Lambeth. He'd already missed the Northern Line heading east, but the Piccadilly Line would arrive any moment. Of course, that would require a change to the Northern Line at Leicester Square, as well as a change to Bakerloo at Charing Cross. Why did it have to be so complicated?! Why couldn't he just Apparate?! He was only fifteen, but he knew he could do it!

Things went smoothly—until he reached Leicester Square! That was when it was announced that, due to the air raid sirens blaring up above in the city, they were shutting down several lines, so that the fear-filled Muggles could hide for the night in the tunnels. Frustrated, because it was likely a false alarm, Tom once again collected his belongings and exited the station. He'd have to walk—and it would take him at least thirty minutes to get to Wool's from where he was.

By the time he got on his way, it was fairly dark and not many people were about. The crowd that he'd followed up from the underground had scattered quickly, darting away to find an alternative way to their homes. They were allowed to be out, but who would want to be with the sirens sounding from all directions. It was deafening!

He, on the other hand, needed to get back to the orphanage before curfew. If he were caught out after curfew, he'd certainly be in trouble, but...what choice did he have. Grimacing at the sound of the squealing sirens, he trudged on.

After about five minutes of walking, he found himself nearing Trafalgar Square and decided to wash his hands in the fountain. Sitting all day on a train should not make him feel so filthy, but it had. It was when he was finishing that he saw a quick flash of light and heard a splash on the other side of the fountain.

Frowning, he looked up at the skies—hoping that no Germans were above, ready to drop bombs on the flash of light—then he pulled out his wand and slowly approached. He knew he wasn't allowed to use his wand outside of school, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He could always figure out a way around the prohibition on underage magic.

As he made his way around the large fountain, he saw something in the water. Unfortunately, there was enough cloud cover that it was much like a new moon, so he couldn't make out what it was. Reaching out, he discovered that it was a body. The body of a girl, he realized as he turned it over and felt the long-ish hair. Frowning, he glanced around, then stowed his wand—it wouldn't do to be caught with it now that he knew he didn't need it—and pulled the limp form from the water. She was unconscious and didn't appear to be breathing.

"You there!" someone called out.

Tom glanced up to see two people approaching. It was too dark to see them properly, but they weren't large and the voice told him that at least one of them was female.

"What have you done?" one of them demanded.

"It wasn't me," he said quickly. "I was passing by and...found her. I think she's dead."

The two approached, one of them kneeling down beside the girl. They were women, that much Tom could tell. One had dark hair and the other light. Or so it appeared in the darkness.

"She's...not dead," the dark haired one said. "We need to help her, Sophie."

"Of course," the one called Sophie agreed. "But Vin, we can't take her to that dreadful hospital."

Vin shook her head. "Definitely not!"

"And I doubt we could carry her home," the blonde continued.

Still holding the girl, Tom looked between the two women, frowning at their silly conversation. They were talking as if they'd found a puppy or something.

"Well, maybe this nice young man will assist us," the dark-haired woman said with a grin—it was obvious she was grinning by the tone of her voice.

Tom shook his head. "I need to get home," he said flatly. He absolutely did not want to go "home," but he was expected at the orphanage and Mrs Cole would be furious if he took too long, causing her to have to stay up.

The light haired one cocked her head. "What are you doing out at this time anyway, young man. Don't you know there's a war going on?"

Tom snorted. "I don't see you two worried about getting home," he countered.

The dark haired one chuckled. "Not overly so, no," she said. "But you didn't answer my sister's question."

Tom shrugged. "Of course, I know there's a war."

"And your parents...don't they worry about their boy being out, traipsing all over London?"

Tom ground his teeth. "I wasn't traipsing," he argued. "I'm returning from...boarding school."

"Hmph," was the brunette's response.

"Explains why you're out," the blonde said, "but..."

"Sort of hard for them to worry. I don't have any parents," he admitted, wondering why he was divulging so much to these strangers.

The blonde scrunched up her nose. "Oh. Wools then," she said flatly.

"Well then, you can help us bring this girl home with us, yes?" the one called Vin said as she rose to her feet.

"And you can stay at ours for the night," the other added. "I'm Sophronia Fairweather and this is my sister Lavinia."

The other one snorted. "Sophie and Vin," she corrected.

Tom frowned. These two women must be out of their minds, he thought. He was a stranger to them. And a wizard. Bloody Muggles! "I have...my school trunk," he responded instead, not at all sure why he was entertaining their ludicrous request.

"Fine. You carry the girl and we'll manage your luggage," Vin said.

"And your name, young man?" Sophie pushed.

"It's...Tom," he huffed. "Tom Riddle."

"Lovely," the women said in unison—then gestured at the girl. "Up, up," one of them said, while the other said, "I'll take your shoulder bag," as she deftly removed it from his shoulder before he could protest.

Annoyed, Tom got to his feet with the girl in his arms. She was wearing a long dress that appeared to be white—and it was fairly heavy due to the fact that it was drenched. But the girl was relatively light.

"Oh. Vin!" Sophie burst. "Something's floating in the water."

Vin reached out and scooped up the item—it was a jacket of some kind—and handed it to Sophie. You take this and I'll get the luggage," she said, looking around.

Tom nodded. "It's just there," he said, hoping the woman didn't notice how light it was. No such luck.

"Hmm. What do you have in here? Nothing?" she asked, glancing at her sister.

Tom ignored the question and pretended to be busy situating the unconscious girl. "All right. Where too?" he asked, hoping it wasn't too far.

"Not far," Sophie piped up.

"About a fifteen minute walk," said Vin—causing Tom to groan. This was shaping up into quite a wild day for him.

~o0o~

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