Chapter 1

Speeding Down the Wrong Tracks

King's Cross was nothing but pure panic and utter chaos the morning of September 1st, 1939. Thousands of children needed to be evacuated and terrified parents were practically clawing their way through the crowd to try and get their child out of London. There had been threats of mass bombing and gas raids, even the start of an all-out war. It was obviously something a normal person would be frightened of. It would be a horrible catastrophe and thousands of deaths were on their way in the very near future. How could one not be feared by the idea of that? However, right there in King's Cross, was the one person in all of London who was not afraid. A pale boy with neat dark hair was wheeling his cart through the station, closely followed by a wide-eyed girl with thick locks of long hazel hair flowing down her thin shoulders. They were the two outliers in the dense crowd of panic. Tom Riddle did not conform to such unnecessary fear and alarm, while Frankie Dickson was slightly scared, but knew that as long as she stuck close to Tom everything would be alright. As a young wizard and witch on the first of September, they were also trying desperately to get out of this city. They both needed to get off to their second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tom didn't care if the muggles were having problems, this wasn't his world anymore, so they weren't his problems anymore. He didn't care if the whole city went down in flames. In fact, he wouldn't mind if the orphanage that they lived in was bombed. His only concern at the moment that might cause him to slightly panic, or worry, at all was losing Frankie in all this mayhem.

"Keep up! Stay with me."

He would've held her hand, considering it was a dire enough situation for such a gesture to go unnoticed and be acceptable. However, despite the urge, with carts in hand Tom was forced to just keep going, looking every-so-often behind him for her presence. They arrived at the pillar between platforms 9 and 10, incredibly later than they would usually be there. They only had a few minutes left before the train was scheduled to leave. They would make it if they wasted absolutely no time. Tom stood at the starting point, with miraculously enough room to run at the pillar. Normally, Tom was not the one to face the barrier first. However, there wasn't enough space for Frankie to go ahead of him and now was not the time to let such a trivial detail become a priority. Tom took a deep breath and charged for the barrier, slightly looking back as he went to make sure she would be right behind him.

Unfortunately, she would not be.

The shoving crowd of pandemonium and discord had knocked her on to the ground, seemingly unconscious.

Before Tom could fully process what he saw, he was enveloped into darkness and spit back out on platform 9 ¾. He touched the barrier. It was rock solid. He was suddenly put into even more of a panic then every muggle in the station combined. Tom began running himself into the wall over and over, even though the smarter part of him knew it wouldn't suddenly work just because he kept at it. At this rate, he was more on track to dislocating his shoulder, not for going back to Hogwarts. However, he just had to go back for her. He was certain that he had seen Frankie passed out on the ground. She would not only get trampled; she would miss the train and be trapped in a city that was possibly about to be bombed.

"Tom? Are you alright? What're you still doing on the platform?—Hurry up!"

Tom looked over to find Daphne Aguilar shouting at him from an open train window, even though they were not even remotely friends. She was hanging out of the frame and looking at him like he was mad. He quickly rushed up to the window and she slightly retreated inside, yet remained in eager attention to hear what his unusual distress was all about.

"I lost her. I actually lost her," Tom remarked, sounding calm, but on the inside, he was shouting the same statement over and over, more at himself then at Daphne. It was the one thing he was trying to prevent. Guilt was flooding over him. How could he have allowed something like this to happen to her? Daphne looked confused and Tom realized he would have to further explain the situation, if he wanted any help from her, "Frankie and I got separated in the station, with all those panicked people, and now the barrier has closed itself off. She's trapped! We've got to—"

"Relax, Tom. Just get on the train and we can go alert Professor Dumbledore when we get back to school," Daphne replied, actually calm. Tom didn't want to admit it, because he horribly hated being in the wrong, but she was right. Freaking out about it now wasn't going help to bring her back. Staying there on the platform, letting the train go on without him while he fought for Frankie, wasn't going to really help the situation. All Tom could do was get on the train and get better help. Strangely, he listened to Daphne's commands. Tom quickly grabbed his trunk from over by the barrier and rushed to the nearest door. He hopped on and closed the train door behind him just as the whistle blew. Daphne came running down the corridor seconds later to meet him, to make sure he had made it on safely. Catching her breath, she gave him a hopeful, reassuring sort of smile, "She'll be alright, you know."

"I hope so…"

Frankie woke up. Not in the station, having her hair stepped on by a multitude of people, but on a train. She was lying on the right side of a compartment. The armrests were lifted up so she could do so somewhat comfortably. For a second, she had thought she had magically been transported onto the Hogwarts Express, but in closer examination of her surroundings she was on a clearly different train. It was not as nice a compartment as the school's train and there were no overjoyed kids in wizarding robes running down the corridor, looking for their friends and trying to catch various wizarding toys, candy, and pets that were running amuck. On this train, she couldn't see out into the corridor, but she could hear a lot of crying in the next compartment over. Frankie rubbed her head and tried to remember what had happened and how she had gotten here, but was coming up with nothing. She had been following right behind Tom, then there was a sharp pain, like someone elbowed her in the back of the head.

"Are you alright, miss?"

She didn't notice in the examination of her surroundings, but there was a boy staring at her in the chair across from her who wasn't Tom.

"Not really…Where am I exactly?" she asked, rubbing her aching head.

"You're on a train," the boy answered. Frankie sighed, sounding a little exasperated. She had been able to figure that much out for herself. However, it wasn't entirely his fault, she probably should've asked him 'why' she was on this train. "I found you passed out on the platform. You didn't have a label, so I told them you were my sister and one of the guards placed you in here. He was a bit of a large fellow, seemed to recognize you—"

"Label? What're you talking about?"

"What have you been living under a rock for the past month? Your label!" he exclaimed, tugging at his own in a slightly crude manor. Frankie grabbed the piece of paper pinned to his jacket to read the words that were on it. Arthur Giry, 12 years old, born in London on July 25th, 1927, "I figured yours fell off when you collapsed, but do you honestly not know what I'm talking about?"

"I had a bracelet," Frankie suddenly remembered, feeling around for it in her pocket. This trip to King's Cross the whole orphanage followed them because they had to be evacuated. Mrs. Cole gave them all these metal bracelets, mostly out of legal obligation for Tom and Frankie. She didn't care if they evacuated or not. "Tom thought it was stupid and told me to take it off."

Frankie removed it from her pocket and handed it to the boy, apparently named Arthur, to read for himself. Frankie Dickson, 12 years old, February 3rd, 1927, (Wool's Orphanage, non-entity)

"You're an orphan. Well, that's not very good. You aren't likely to get a good host parent if they find out," Arthur remarked, insensitively. "The guard is about to come back and make you a new label. We'll just keep up with the lie that you're my sister."

"No, I have to get off and get to school." Frankie protested, making a sudden break for the compartment door. She had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to get off a moving train speeding through the country, but she had to find some way. She wasn't supposed to be sitting here with Arthur Giry. She was supposed to be sitting with Tom, talking about the new school year, trying new wizard candy from the Candy Lady. Frankie yanked and jiggled the door handle. Locked, of course.

"The city is about to be bombed and you're worried about school. Okay…"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, just help me get out of here. I need to get out."

"We're on a moving train. There is no getting out." he reasoned, logically. Frankie was still trying with the door handle, feeling the anxiety and hysteria of a person who was trapped. The door suddenly slid open and she came face-to-face a guard of the train. It wasn't the one who yelled at her last year when she asked him where platform 9 ¾ was, thankfully. Odds are, now that she was awake, he would have quite a few things to yell at her about now. Although, little did she know, he was actually the one who had shoved his way through the crowd to save her from being stomped to death and placed her on this train.

"Excuse me, is everything alright now?"

"Yes, my sister is just a bit hysteric from all the excitement." Arthur smiled, charmingly, while he casually pulled Frankie out of the man's personal bubble and back down into her seat.

"Full name, age, city and date of birth." the guard ordered, a pen and new label in his hand.

"Anne Giry, 12 years old, born in London on July 25th, 1927." Arthur replied, immediately. Frankie was about to protest, naturally. Why lie about who she was? However, he squeezed her wrist to keep her silent.

"Here you go. Be more careful next time." the guard sighed, handing the safety pin with the label tied to it to Arthur, the one he obviously thought was more stable and responsible. He exited back into the corridor and Arthur exhaled in relief. He was clearly not an expert at lying.

"Twins? Really? We look nothing alike; you know?" Frankie added, harshly, as he was busy pinning it to her collar of her coat.

"Well, I have a real twin sister and I just figured that you might as well take her place, considering she wasn't able to make it," he stated, not meeting her eyes. When Arthur was seemingly satisfied with the placement of the label, he sat back down his own seat, hoping Frankie would not press on the subject. However, he felt the curiosity of her gaze. "She's far too sickly to survive the journey. She's going to die rather soon, whether bombs actually start to fall on London or not."

"I'm sorry," Frankie felt a bit of empathy for the boy; however, her emotions were still mostly clouded by the anger of practically being abducted. She quickly fell back into the delusional mindset she would be able to get off the train. Frankie was prepared to walk to Hogwarts if she had too. "Where are my things?"

"They're onboard, don't worry. Everything's going to be alright." Arthur assured her.

"Ugh— it is not alright!" she shouted back at him, rising out of her seat again. Naturally, he didn't understand why it was so vital she get back there, and he wouldn't believe her if she had told him. "I have to be on the Hogwarts Express right now. I have to get back to Hogwarts."

"Whoa, slow down. What are you going on about hog warts for?" he questioned, looking confused. At this point, it wouldn't be too crazy if she had actually started talking about the warts on pigs. He clearly already thought she was hopelessly insane already.

"It's the name of a boarding school in Scotland. It's my school, it's my home, and I need to get back to it. I can't be going—wherever this train is headed right now."

"Look, you can't go back. I'm sorry to say it, but you're stuck in the same situation as all of us now."

Frankie was begrudgingly quiet for the rest of the trip, having run out of arguments and ideas of escaping. All the kids were eventually exited off the train and onto a platform somewhere very far away. They were less panicked and rushed, yet still pretty confused and teary-eyed. Once Frankie got her trunk back, she immediately searched for a sign to see where the train had taken them. Maybe she wasn't far from Hogwarts and could make a break for it and walk there. However, upon further examination of the quant country environment, she realized were she was. It was the town where the orphanage took their annual trip to every summer. Scotland and Hogwarts were about 400 miles away.

Having no choice but to let that realization sink into her mind, Frankie followed the crowd of children being herded towards another unknown destination. She didn't want to cry like the rest of these children, so she kept her feelings contained through a vacant glossy gaze. Her future was suddenly uncertain. She had no idea what was going to happen to her, and that fact terrified her, probably more than it did the others. Frankie didn't have a proper family, but she still had people she cared about dearly. Would she really be forced to live out a muggle life here and never be able to see her friends again? The thought of never being able to see Tom again was such an unbearable thought. However, another part of her knew that the Hogwarts Express would also soon arrive at its destination and he was probably raising hell about her situation to Dumbledore, Dippet, and every teacher he could possibly find before the feast. They would find her. She just needed to wait.

They were guided into a field where nothing, but a flimsy wooden platform stood, with an audience of people, waiting for the apparent show. The guards who had guided them lined them up in a certain order that only they knew. Naturally, as his 'sister', Frankie soon ended up back next to Arthur Giry. She turned away from in an angry huff and tried to crane her neck out so she could she what was happening. They were too far towards the back. The line slowly started moving forward, meanwhile, the guards started examining the children and writing things down. They arrived at Frankie and began to handle her roughly. Checking her scalp, pulling on her hair, tugging her lips apart, holding her eyelids open. It was all very aggravating, annoying, and uncomfortable.

"Oi, would you stop manhandling my sister? She's fine."

Arthur had spoken up for Frankie, noticing that they were making her uncomfortable. Frankie gave him a small smile and look of gratitude as the guard stopped with her and started doing the same sort of things to him. Arthur looked over at her, and would've probably been smiling, if the guard wasn't tugging down his bottom lip to examine his teeth. After a while and several kids added to the audience, they were both practically shoved onto the stage. The crowd murmured in discussion of their various features, like they were objects to be judged. The guard who had examined them handed a notecard to another man standing on the stage,

"Lot 666. A boy and girl pair from the middle-class of London. Fairly clean, no health problems. You will be paid 42 and a half pence a week for each child." he announced to the audience. Before Frankie processed what the man was saying, a hand from the crowd was raised into the air.

"Very good, sir. Thank you for your generosity in such troubled times."

"Did they really just auction us off? This is so degrading!" Frankie whispered to Arthur, as they were guided of stage and back to their trunks.

"When are you going to get off that high horse of yours? For an orphan, you really are picky." Arthur replied, finally becoming unamused by her resilience. He was someone who had already accepted his fate, whatever it may be, before he left King's Cross Station. While Frankie probably gave off the impression that she was slightly prissy and high maintenance, despite her low position in the world.

They went to join the man who had decided to take them in. He was an elder man, around his fifties, with neatly combed black hair, a few strands already beginning to grey. He looked stern, the frown lines on his face were very apparent. However, he had half-moon spectacles, like Dumbledore's, hanging on a chain around his neck, which made Frankie smile. Perhaps they would be similar sort of people.

"I am Dr. George Winchester. You will both address me as 'sir'. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." they both answered, obediently. He gave no further introduction and turned away expecting them to trail behind him. They followed him away towards his house, considering that they were finished with business and did not want to see the rest of that misery fest of an auction. Eventually, he led them to the doorstep of a rather large manor, that didn't really fit the countryside image. It was sort of secluded from the rest of town, right along the edge of the forest. Frankie got the notion he wasn't a very sociable man and liked being on his own.

Inside the house was even more of a surprise. The faintest of blue walls, pristine hardwood floors, intricately designed rugs, regality of wealth. Every little object was perfectly in place. Why the man willingly let children in his home, no one would ever know. But they had gotten lucky, compared to all the other children, it was a magnificent place to escape war in, or in Frankie's jumbled up mind a magnificent prison for her to sit and rot in. The house was positively exquisite, there was no denying that, but it was not her home. He opened the door to a room splashed with the sunlight from the setting summer sun.

"This will be your room," Dr. Winchester confirmed. Frankie assumed he meant it for her, judging by the vanity set and lace rug. She walked inside and led her trunk to an empty spot at the end of the bed. "Breakfast is generally at eight o' clock in the morning, supper is six at night, and lunch is served at twelve, unless there is school, which you will start at next Monday—"

"School?" Frankie questioned, like she had never heard of such a thing, even though that's what she had been complaining about practically nonstop for the past few hours.

"You don't expect me to let your education go down the toilet, now, do you?"

"Of course not, sir." she answered, immediately, her voice hushing up a little at the sternness in his voice. Frankie didn't dare mention that she was already attending a school, like she had been doing. She knew it wouldn't matter at this point. It's not like if she told him he would be able to send her back there. Dr. Winchester started to leave again. He said to prepare supper, however, for some reason Frankie couldn't really picture him cooking. She was able to get in a few quiet moments in the sun-dappled window seat before she was interrupted by a knock on the door. Despite her better judgment and a hunch of who it was, she gave the okay to enter.

"This is living, eh, Pidge." Arthur grinned, already leaning comfortably on her doorframe.

"Pidge?"

"Short for Pidgeon, cause you're the slum of the city yet still manage to prance around acting like you're all that."

"I do not! I'm just upset. Any normal person would be in this type of situation." Frankie snapped back at him, naturally offended. "You're the one with the actual family. Aren't you the least bit worried about them?"

"I said my goodbyes, nothing more to do." he replied to her comeback, simply. She looked at him appalled. How could he be acting so nonchalantly about something like this? His family was in danger, he was only one who had been managed to escape the dark fate that loomed over London. Did he really not care about them at all? Was he honestly so heartless? Realizing he would once again have to explain himself to get through to her, he sighed, "Look, I already told you about my sister's condition. My father is going to fight in the war and, if I don't get drafted and die, all that's probably going to be waiting for me is my mother. That is if she doesn't die in a bombing first."

"You've already lost them..."

"Exactly—so, there's no point whining about it now. I've already said my goodbyes. I'm just going to keep moving forward. There's nothing more I can do."

They didn't talk anymore for the rest of the night. Frankie was too busy thinking about 'moving forward' herself. Surely, she was being a tad overdramatic in her helpless state. There had to me some way to magically track her down and she would only be there a day or two more. It wasn't permanent. Mrs. Cole had even mentioned the possibility they would all be back at the orphanage by next summer. She created a mantra to at least get her through this first night at least:

It's not forever. It's not forever.

However, nobody came for her in the morning. Or the morning after that. A full week passed, and the little hope Frankie had dwindled every time she was forced to go to sleep. She remained quiet the whole extra week of summer they'd been graced with. She hardly spoke unless she was spoken to and didn't bother to make any more fuss about her school or her friends. However, even though she made no more of a fuss about them, they still were constantly on her mind. They were probably already being given new material and learning new spells. Meanwhile, she was just sitting there, doing nothing. She'd taken up sitting in the window seat of her room and looking out at the horizon, as if she was wishing for an owl to fly in with a letter from Tom, or Dumbledore, saying they would be coming there to rescue her very soon.

Eventually, it was Monday morning and Frankie was expected to get up early and actually go to the muggle school. Having not been properly educated, prior her enrollment at Hogwarts, she honestly didn't know what to expect. She got on a short sleeve blouse and plaid jumper-skirt, that Dr. Winchester had bought for her, tied her scarlet red ribbon around her head and grabbed her leather school bag to go, but got caught by the reflection of herself in the mirror as she was about to leave. Frankie stared at her image for at least another few minutes. She didn't think she looked like herself. She missed the long robes of her old uniform. They were comfy and familiar. However, she rallied on, pushed back her eagerness to dive into her trunk and quickly change back into her old uniform, and went downstairs to leave with her new family to school.

"I've never been to a muggle school before. I suppose this will be an adventure…" Frankie was saying, as she and Arthur closed the front door to set off on their journey. The doctor had drawn them a map, thinking they were fully capable of making it on their own. George Winchester wasn't a very fatherly guardian. He didn't seem too keen to get to know them in anyway, or just respected that Frankie at least needed time to get through such a sudden change.

"A mug—what?"

"Never mind..."

It certainly wasn't Hogwarts. A miserably plain looking building, like any other school in the world, over-flooded from the war with a mixture of locals and the evacuated. It wasn't hard to tell who was who in the crowd. The new children still looked frightened, miserable, and teary-eyed, while the local children were happily chatting with their friends in secluded circles, already planning on not accepting them.

"Now, don't go causing trouble, Pidge." Arthur added, as they arrived at the front. They had to make two separate classes for their year, what with the overflow of kids. Thankfully for Frankie, she and Arthur were not in the same one, so she would only see him during outdoor activities and lunch, "We both know you aren't actually the quiet type."

"Oh, my dear brother. You flatter me too much." Frankie laughed, giving him a toxically sweet smile that was secretly poised for murder, "Don't talk to me and there won't be any trouble."

Frankie huffed away to go find her new classroom, class 2-C. It wasn't hard, considering she usually had to navigate a whole castle to get to her classes on time. She froze a little outside the door that stopped her from getting where she was going. The door was propped open and she could hear warm laughter coming from inside, yet she didn't feel welcomed at all. Frankie knew from experience that the second she is found to be different; they would shun her. Despite her major pause and massive internal panic, Frankie entered the room practically unnoticed. She quickly shuffled her way to a desk at the very back, in the aisle by the window. Sighing in relief, upon successful infiltration, she started to gaze out the windows and wonder what class Tom was waiting for to begin. Was he in the hazy dungeons waiting for Slughorn to find the day's lesson plan, or was he in the Transfiguration classroom waiting for Dumbledore to appear out of thin air? Maybe he was in the greenhouses, staring up at the same sky and wondering what she was doing too.

A few minutes later a bell rung, and class begun. Unlike Hogwarts, they only had one teacher for every subject, Mrs. Jones. Not 'Professor' Jones, which Frankie could strangely tolerate. She did not give off the impression that she was used to teaching and had been doing it for several years, no right for the title 'professor'. The kids were probably going to break her as well, eventually. She looked like one of those teachers that was too nice for their own good and could easily be taken advantage of once the students got more comfortable around this place.

"Now, why don't we all go around and introduce ourselves. Say your name, where you're from, and one special thing about you…"

The room of twelve-year old's began to rise in order of row and state who they were and what was so special about them. It easily became a one-up of talents, a secret contest to see who was the best out of all of them. Singing, dancing, cooking, it was a parade of ordinary talents and skills, until it was Frankie's turn to answer,

Frankie was the last to answer. She stood up from her chair, feeling the eyes of all that had gone before. Seeing her more clearly now, it was plain to see she was an anomaly amongst them. From the new clothes to the long hazel curls, she could obviously not be a normal evacuee or a local. Frankie heard the judgment whispers and wanted to run and hide behind Mrs. Jones, like she had with Mrs. Cole her first day at the orphanage. However, she mustered her Gryffindor bravery, and went on to introduce herself in the best way she could,

"I'm Frankie Dickson. I'm from the wizarding world and I have magic powers."

Dead silence.

Frankie had thought she might as well get it out in the open, to hell with secrecy. She wouldn't actually get in trouble unless she used her powers in front of anyone. What class 2-C didn't know was the truth and had actually been a shocking confession, they saw as some hysterical joke. All of them laughed at her, naturally. Instead of delaying the inevitable label of 'freak' Frankie had spared them all some time and just put the label on herself. She simply sat down, while Mrs. Jones tried to silence the class, and continued to gaze out the window like she hadn't stood up.

"Miss Giry, must you have lied about everything? You could have least told the class your real name."

"I did say my real name," Frankie protested, turning back to her teacher, obviously frustrated. Nothing she said had been a lie and, if anything, her name should've been the one thing that they believed, "I'm not Anne Giry. She's dead!"

"Hallway, young lady! Twenty minutes."

Twenty pointless minutes later, Frankie was allowed back into the room, which was still full of whispers and snickers, but she paid them no mind. Honestly, she didn't care what they thought about her, she was just waiting for all of this to be over. They were starting with English this morning, a subject generally taught in normal schools. Mrs. Jones went over certain words and kids were called to board to try and spell some. She called on Frankie several times, noticing her focus was clearly somewhere else and she was not paying attention. However, that didn't slip her up like she hoped it would. To Frankie they were all painfully easy, considering she was well adapted to more complex reading and had a far bigger vocabulary of words then everyone else. Their homework was to write a short essay of what you did over the summer, or something worthless like that.

When lunchtime came around, Frankie immediately trudged off alone to the edge of the school grounds, not wanting to hear the cruel insults anymore. However, now that they were more unsupervised by adults, they were going to start to take more action. She was followed by a group of boys. Frankie ducked behind a tree to check them all out. Stupidly grinning pranksters, who felt it was their sole purpose in life to make a human being's life miserable just because they're different, practically a copy of Billy Stubbs's orphanage gang. Eric Whalley was even there—

Eric!

It wasn't someone who could save her, or even someone who liked her whatsoever, but it was someone she knew. And that was enough for the moment. He had probably heard rumors that were already being circulated about her and joined a gang that was planning on tormenting her, to figure out if it was actually who he thought it was. He was stupid, but not stupid enough to not suspect her identity. There weren't many girls like Frankie. When they arrived at the girl peeking out at them from behind the tree, they spread out to cover more ground, in case she decided to try and run away. Frankie stared specifically at Eric, trying to have a conversation with him based on looks alone. However, he averted his gaze as his suspicions were confirmed. Now, that he was sure of her identity, he couldn't know her anymore. He'd be labeled too, and he surely wasn't going to risk that for a girl he couldn't stand.

"Leave me alone." she hissed at them, reverting her desperate gaze at Whalley to a harsh one at their nameless leader, knowing he was the only one who could stop this. Taking him down would mean they would all go away, having to deal with Billy had taught her that.

"Why don't you use your magic powers to make us move, witch?" he retorted back.

"Believe me, I would if I could," she sneered, hatefully. Frankie wanted nothing more than to curse his own fist to punch him the face. However, she couldn't risk being expelled from Hogwarts for using magic in the presence of a muggle. Making a magical fuss probably would get her found by the ministry. However, it would lose any sort of chance she had to go back to Hogwarts. She might even get sent to Azkaban, "but I can't."

"Why not? If you were really a witch you'd do something with your magic," the boy reasoned. The others nodded in agreement and egged her on to do some kind of magic trick, except Eric, who was still trying not to look at her, "You're just a delusional freak aren't you? A rotten liar—"

A fist came flying to punch the leader of the boys in the face, just like Frankie had wished for. Only it wasn't his own fist, or even Whalley's fist. Her own fist had slammed itself full force into the boy's jaw. He was knocked to the ground with a groan, while she stared at her own arm. It didn't hurt, but it buzzed with adrenaline.

"I don't need magic to handle you clowns." Frankie added, putting up the tough front she used for her enemies, knowing it was what was going to make them leave her be for at least five minutes. They all ran, headed to tell the nearest teacher surely, except Eric Whalley. In that moment before she was in a world of trouble, he was either too frightened to move, or he still had questions he wanted answered from her. Frankie walked closer to him; however, he was determined to keep most of his distance.

"W—wh—why-why didn't you just use your powers?" he stammered, shakily.

"Because I can't." she answered, simply. She didn't want to have to try and explain the rules of using magic away from school, knowing someone like him wouldn't be able to comprehend it.

"What are you even doing here? Don't you and Satan go off to hell this time of year?" Eric questioned. His cruel comments should've made her want to punch him in the face too, but she merely looked at him with the same pitiful desperation. Frankie grabbed his sleeve, knowing any other form of contact would've made him panic. She needed him to not hate her, just for a moment. If she was possibly going to have to spend the rest of her life out here, she would need someone to understand at least slightly what she was going through and who she was being separated from. Even if it was only for a moment.

"I just want to go back home, Eric."

"Don't we all?" he sighed, surprisingly uncharacteristic and not cruel. Eric put a supportive hand on her shoulder, slightly flinching a little as he did, considering she was practically toxic to him. Their touching moment was naturally only for a moment. Every teacher at the school, plus the group of boys, were running towards them, "Get away from me, you monster!"

The parade of teachers came to constrain her in that moment, like she was some vicious creature that had gotten loose. The boys surrounded Eric like he had just gone through some kind of big epic showdown and won, with looks of admiration. He had survived that vicious girl, when their leader could not, which meant there was a new order. It would seem Eric was finally a leader at long last. He gave Frankie one last glance, as if saying he was actually sorry for doing this to her, and departed with the other boys to hurry off to class. She was contained in the headmaster's office, drowning out several lectures from authority figures she could care less about, until Dr. Winchester came to get her. They immediately pulled him off to the side and into a different room, to explain the situation in their own way, so she could not properly defend herself. As he came out, he said nothing and made no indication of her presence, yet expected her to follow after him. The teachers explained that she was suspended, Frankie would not be allowed to return to school for another week. Which, quite honestly, she found to be a relief and a gift. She'd had a better first day at the orphanage, frankly.

Dr. Winchester escorted her back to the house with a tense silent air. He was going to explode at her any minute surely. However, unexpectedly, when they arrived he led her not to her room, but to one of the many locked doors of the house. There were particular rooms she and Arthur weren't allowed to go into, and this was one of them. Slightly expecting horrors from the mystery room when it was opened Frankie was thoroughly surprised. It was a little library, with rows and rows of book crammed into shelves along the walls.

"You like reading, don't you?" Dr. Winchester inquired, before she could question what they were doing here. She nodded in agreement, "Despite all the negative reviews I was fed about you, I hear you did great in English class."

"Aren't you angry with me?" Frankie questioned. She didn't know much about how parents were supposed to discipline children, but she knew enough to know that her actions at school warranted some kind of punishment.

"Why should I be? It was a stupid thing to do, obviously, but I know you must've had a smart reason behind it. You're a clever girl." he replied. She smiled, one of her usual bright smiles, probably for the first time in over a week. Tom used to occasionally call her clever girl too. It was one of those things that always made her feel better.

"Is there a post here?"

"Of course."

"Am I allowed to write my family?"

"I suppose I see no harm and that," Dr. Winchester stated. He pulled out the chair to a nearby desk, indicating for her to sit there and write her letter, "Paper, envelopes, and stamps are all here in this desk."

"Thank you very much, sir." Frankie remarked, taking up the seat he had pulled out for her.

"It might not make it through, you know."

"I know…"

He left her alone with a strange feeling. The doctor had sounded like he had known the letter wouldn't make it, not because of the war, because wizards didn't get post the same way muggles did. However, that was probably just her mind making up the impossible again to escape the horrors of this new life. Frankie ignored the feeling, grabbed a quill and pot of ink from the desk drawer and started to write,

"Dear Tom,

I have so many things I want to say to you, yet I cannot find the words to express everything I need to in such a short amount of space. Although, the likelihood you will receive this letter is very slim, I still feel the need to write it. I don't know exactly why.

Firstly, I would like to say, you shouldn't be blaming yourself for what happened to me. It certainly wasn't your fault. I was being clumsy. I am, for the most part, alright. I'm in Cotswold, the country town where the orphanage takes their summer vacations. I'm currently living with a doctor as an evacuee of the war and being cared for much better than we are at the orphanage. I'm discovering that he's a very kind man, so there's no need to worry about me. However, I'm still very eager to return to school. I'm not built for muggle life anymore, especially without you to bear it with. I'm sure you feel the same. These people really aren't like we are. I feel very trapped with them all, most of the ones here are very ignorant and cruel. I just want to leave. I miss you quite terribly.

Anyway, you know where I am now, or not considering there's no way muggle post could get to a wizard school. You're probably not reading this and I'm just talking to myself. In the slightest case of miracle, please alert Dumbledore of my location.

I'll be waiting for you to come bring me home.

-Frankie"

Normally, Frankie would've handed it over to an owl at this point, completely trusting that the letter would arrive at its destination. However, she tossed it into the mailbox a few blocks away with a sense of uncertainty and doubt. There was the slightest, miniscule chance it would make it to Tom. There could possibly be a wizard working in the post office who would be able to pass it on to Dippet or Dumbledore, but that would've been a little too good to be true, honestly. She knew it wasn't going to make it. When Frankie turned to go back to the house, not-so-surprisingly-by-this-point, she once again came face-to-face with her brother.

"Who is Tom? Is he your real brother or something?" Arthur asked, probably having read the envelope she had been carrying so graciously and carefully from over her shoulder.

"Have you been following me?" she questioned, defensively.

"For the better part of ten minutes, I have. I just got home from school," he replied, normally, like he wasn't just admitting to stalking her. She grunted in frustration. All Frankie wanted was a true minute alone. "I heard the funniest thing today, that wasn't very funny at all."

"Spit it out, Arthur," Frankie snapped, knowing that was just a bad transition into a more serious conversation that he wanted to have with her, "Just say what you want to say—"

"What I want to say?" Arthur added, sounding shocked and a little affronted, "You're the one who told everyone you had magic powers and then punched some kid in the face. Are you sure there isn't something you want to be telling me?"

"I'm not sorry."

"Is that all you have to say for yourself? You aren't even going to try and deny it?"

"I don't lie." Frankie replied, grudgingly.

"You're crazy, Pidge." he exclaimed, sounding a little insane himself. "You honestly expect me to believe you're some kind of being from another dimension and have magic powers."

"Believe what you want. I could give a damn about what you or anyone else thinks about me!" she shouted, crossly. Frankie stormed back to the house at top speed, leaving Arthur in the dust. She re-entered the library, slammed the door shut, and locked it behind her, for good measure. Then, she started to pull titles she didn't even bother to look at properly. She needed to get lost in a world that was not this one and that was something only a book could offer her. Whether it was just as trapped a world as the underground cellars of a French opera house, or as far and as free as the second star to the right, she would go anywhere she needed to forget her own problems.

Eventually, the door had to be opened by someone. Although, she would most certainly try her best, Frankie could not remain locked in there forever. George Winchester gave her a few good hours, hoping she would just come out on her own, before he had decided to unlock the door himself. When he had come to get her out, yell at her for being so childish and unreasonable, he was stopped. Upon seeing her seeing her sprawled out on the floor surrounded by almost the entirety of his once perfectly organized library of books, all the anger in his expression slowly started to fade away.

"Sir?"

"My Elizabeth loved to read too. She used to spend her days here, lying on the floor of this very room, surrounded by books just like this."

"Who?"

"No one of importance to you, my dear." he answered, simply. However, Frankie was not just going to take that as an acceptable answer. By not telling her straight out, he had turned this woman into an enigma, and Frankie was eager he told her what made this Elizabeth such a secret, "She was my light, my angel, and my salvation from the dark brooding boy that I once was."

"Was she your wife?"

"No. It pains for me to say, even long after her passing, there was someone else who won over her heart." he sighed, still sounding very heartbroken although it had probably happened over several years ago.

Now, that you're here it doesn't matter, though…

"What was that, sir?"

"Nothing, my dear. It's time for you to head off to bed. Run along now."

Frankie obliged, however, made sure she picked up the book she'd been reading and taking it with her. She was keen on going to bed after she finished it. Frankie changed and brushed her teeth, taking her sweet time. After her last encounter with Arthur, she really didn't want to face him. Hopefully, he'd be asleep, and she could just read in peace and quiet, without any more confrontations.

Unfortunately, Arthur was sitting there in her window seat in the dim, warm glow of the lantern light. He didn't look angry anymore though, which made Frankie relax a little.

"I know you aren't sorry, but I am. I was out of line."

"It's alright. I probably wouldn't believe myself either if I were you," she answered, truthfully. It was a lot to ask of someone, to believe in magic when Frankie wasn't allowed to show it to them. Although, she certainly would not have treated someone like she had been treated for the past few hours just because they couldn't prove anything, "I'm not crazy, though."

"Let's just not talk about it anymore." Arthur added, knowing that the more they talked about it, the more they would argue. If they were going to be stuck together for a while, they would need to get along at least somewhat, "You never did tell me who Tom was."

"He's my best friend."

"Orphans can have best friends?"

"It's not like we're a different species, you know?" Frankie remarked, slightly affronted from his insensitivity. He reminded her a lot of Quin, "He's the closest thing I have to a family."

"You'll see him again someday. I know it." he smiled, although he really did not have the authority to say such a thing or know the impossible circumstances the two were facing. However, it still made Frankie feel supported and re-assured that maybe she would see Tom again someday.

"I hope so…"

Eventually, September passed, and time moved through October at just a slow a pace. When she was let back into school, her social status went from laughing stock to bad ass. Everyone was utterly terrified of her, yet she could still hear the occasional whisper about her from behind her back. While her homeroom teacher, Mrs. Jones, opinion of her changed into a softer one. She soon saw that Frankie was not really the same girl she had met on the first day of school and was a sweet girl just horrified by unfortunate circumstances. Frankie's first impression of her teacher's sweet demeanor turned out to be right, despite how she acted on the first day, she wasn't cruel and strict. She was kind, generous and someone to talk to in this hellhole, which was all Frankie really required to survive there.

Fridays soon became Frankie's favorite day of the week, rather than Sunday, and not only because it was the start of the weekend. On Fridays, class 2-C got into the habit of reading, The Adventures Tom Riddle. A series of completely fictional stories about a completely fictional boy attending wizarding school, which Frankie may or may not write up every week and give to Mrs. Jones to read. Although, they repelled the idea of someone actually having magic in this world, everyone loved Tom and her story counterpart's adventures with magic. Frankie liked to see them all finally not so filled with hate over something she did, even though they didn't know she was the one writing them.

Soon it was the one day a year Frankie was allowed to express her freakiness in public eye without judgement. Halloween. Dr. Winchester let her dress up as a muggle interpretation of a witch and have her wand out at school, as long as she promised not to skewer people eyes out of people who insulted her. Long black dress that made her look like she was going to a funeral, pointy brimmed hat, broomstick from the cupboard. It was perfect. However, she wasn't allowed to go trick-or-treating, the doctor thought it was unsafe for her to go wander the streets at night. He'd gotten very protective of Frankie, despite his first impression of wanting nothing to do with either her or Arthur. When the two returned back to the house from school that day, they would pass out candy for the other kids who came by.

Knock! Knock!

There was a couple light beats on the door just as Frankie came downstairs from putting away her school things and changing into her jumper-skirt for the moment. Children already? It was barely four o' clock. Frankie opened the door with one hand, juggling the big bowl of candy in the other. However, when the door flew open, both of her hands had to cover her mouth as she gasped in shock. It was not a group of trick-or-treaters. Frankie came face-to-face with what just had to be someone in a costume. The long greying auburn-haired man was staring at her with piercing blue eyes hidden behind half-moon spectacles. Professor Albus Dumbledore was standing at the front door and it wasn't someone in a costume, miraculously. He was real.

"Dumbledore!" Frankie exclaimed, sounding incredibly relieved. He found her. He'd finally found her. "Thank goodness you're here. I was so scared!"

"I'm glad to see you are well," Dumbledore smiled back. Frankie hugged him and let the warm familiar scent of peppermint and brandy envelop her. However, although he didn't really mind, a loud intentional cough from behind him reminded Dumbledore that he ought to not hog what was supposed to be someone else's. "Oh, yes. I almost forgot. I brought someone with me. He's been rather worried about your whereabouts for the past couple months, so I let him come along…"

Tom Riddle was standing in the way of the metal gate that surrounded the house, looking up at the autumn foliage intentionally. Although, he had agreed to come along and wanted to see her safe and sound more than anything, he refused to look over at her standing a few feet away completely unharmed.

"Tom!" Frankie shouted, upon seeing him standing there. She was overcome with joy and relief. He finally decided to look at her and attempted a somewhat kind expression. He was probably still pissed off; however, Frankie wasn't about to let that simple fact bother her. She ran and pulled him into her arms. Even if he wouldn't hug her back she would continue to hold onto him for as long as he let her, which she hoped would be a very, very long time. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"Idiot!" Tom yelled, thumping her on the forehead once he was able to break one of his arms loose. She could apologize as much as she wanted, but that wouldn't make up for the years of his life he had probably lost worrying about what happened to her. However, for a moment, he allowed himself to be un-angered and uncharacteristically hug her back. "I know it wasn't actually your fault, but don't you dare ever scare me like that again..."

"It would seem Anne has been reunited with her true family,"

Dr. Winchester had appeared from the doorway of the manor, a bit of an unwelcomed presence in the happy reunion. Tom and Frankie broke apart as he slowly approached them with an abnormally happy smile that could not be real. And it wasn't. "I'll be heartbroken to see her go, but by all means you can take her if you're under circumstances that you can properly care for her in."

"Pack your things. We'll be departing soon." Dumbledore answered, sternly, seemingly to intentionally ignoring Dr. Winchester's statement. Frankie and Tom scooted pass them to go upstairs and pack, leaving two men in a heated glare. When they arrived at her room, Arthur was busy reading a book they had been assigned to read for class in the window. He often left his copy at school and borrowed hers. He looked up to address Frankie, but then he realized she was not alone.

"Who's that?" Arthur asked, obviously noticing she was being followed by a boy when she had no friends.

"Tom Riddle." Frankie replied, with a satisfied grin.

"He exists!?" Arthur gasped, in clear astonishment of what he probably thought was another lie.

"You thought I was making him up too?" Frankie growled, in frustration. She had honestly not lied once since she'd came here, yet everyone insisted every word that came out of her mouth was an outlandish lie, "Unbe-bloody-lievable!"

"You were right, Frankie. The muggles here are very ignorant. Who is this one?" Tom questioned, curiously, not caring he just insulted the boy to his face.

"Arthur Giry." Frankie answered, not elaborating any further on why he was here or what their relationship had been. She quickly started to fold her things, while Tom glared at Arthur for her, instead of helping like he had planned on when he came up there.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm just surprised. You said there was no way to contact him and that he probably was never going to find you."

"How did you find me though?" Frankie asked Tom. None of the letters she wrote over the past months could've actually made it through and she had been very careful not to use her magic. They couldn't have just guessed where she was.

"Don't look at me. About an hour ago, Dumbledore pulled me from lessons saying that he found you and gave me a stack of unopened letters that apparently you wrote to me. We walked down to Hogsmeade and Disapparated from there." Tom answered, defensively, crossing his arms. He had probably been badgering Dumbledore the whole way down to Hogsmeade about the very same question, while simultaneously checking every letter to make sure they were real.

"I guess it doesn't matter." Frankie added, as she put the last of her things in her trunk. She didn't really care how she was found by Dumbledore without opening the letters, or how he'd gotten them in the first place, the point was they had found her, and she was going home. Tom grabbed her trunk and she followed behind him to leave, "Goodbye, Arthur."

"Take care, Frankie. It was nice knowing you." Arthur smiled, waving as she turned to address him. She left with Tom back downstairs to find the two men standing in the exact same position they had left them in several minutes ago. Upon noticing their arrival, Dumbledore started to walk for the gate, followed by Tom with her trunk. Frankie, however, had been stopped by Dr. Winchester. He set a particular book in her hands as a parting gift.

"She would've liked for you to take something from the library and you've been saying that this one is your favorite." he explained. Frankie smiled and clutched the book in her arms. He gestured for her to run along and she quickly ran back to Dumbledore and Tom, "Thanks for coming, Albus. Many safe travels..."

As Dr. Winchester closed the door, the three were about to finally depart. However, they were stopped of making their magical exit by a real group of trick-or-treaters walking up the path. Eric Whalley and his posse of boys were coming towards them dressed as pirates. They froze at the sight of Frankie; however, Eric was the only one to freeze at the sight of Tom, knowing this boy was far more dangerous.

"Hello, Eric—Did you miss me?" Tom laughed, cruelly, seeing the look of complete terror on his face.

"Back to hell, Eric. We'll see you this summer if the orphanage hasn't been bombed." Frankie smiled, sweetly, despite what she was saying. The boys whispered. Their leader apparently had met this girl before and was not who he said he was either. She had probably ruined Eric's reputation and was bound to become the new freak when she left. Dumbledore led them a little way away, but not too far, and they disapparated with a loud crack. It was Halloween, so the rules with magic in front of muggles was a bit wobbly. Frankie wished they got to see the looks of terror and astonishment as they realized that she was really a witch. Their feet buckled onto the cobblestone of Hogsmeade village seconds later and Frankie got a view of the castle in the distance. Finally, she was right where she belonged.

"Did you let your real name or the fact you are a real witch slip at all with your temporary guardian?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly, as they began to make their decent up to the castle.

"Not with him specifically. I blurted out on the first day of school and no one believed me, naturally."

"You went to muggle school?" Tom questioned, obviously want to hear more about that venture then whatever Dumbledore was talking about.

"So, you are certain that man didn't hear your name?"

"Yes. He couldn't have." Frankie answered, almost certain. Arthur was always calling her by the strange nickname he had come up for her. As far as Dr. George Winchester knew, she was Anne Giry. Twelve years old, from a family of four in the middle class of London, currently not sick and dying.

They had made it up to the castle just in time for the Halloween feast. All the students were sitting at their house table, waiting for the food to appear. She froze nervously and hid along the wall of the Great Hall entrance. She wanted to see her friends more than anything, but she wasn't in uniform and she had mysteriously disappeared for almost two whole months without any contact. If she turned up now, they might even think she's a ghost or something. What if they were mad at her? She had thousands of little excuses that stopped her from going in, but none of those mattered when Tom grabbed her and pushed her through the entrance.

"Go on." he commanded when she had turned around to question him. He made gestures for her to run along to her house table and create yet another Gryffindor spectacle. He had gotten his moment alone with her and that was enough for him. Now, her friends deserved their moment, despite what he thought about them. Maybe now they felt guilty about not writing her all summer. Tom turned towards his own table, trying to look like he hadn't engaged with her at all and was simply late for dinner, while Frankie slowly walked towards the table, unsure and afraid of approaching the other Gryffindors. She still didn't know how to properly announce herself to them. Thankfully, for her Rodger Day had not been staring at the shiny plates waiting for food to appear, for once, and had been looking around the room in that moment. He spotted her, naturally, and ran up to her immediately with a shocked and relieved expression.

"Squirt!" he shouted, as he lifted her up and spun her around, "You're alive, you're alive. It's a bloody miracle!"

"Let me go, Day. I-can't—breathe!" Frankie protested. However, he had started the commotion. Daphne and the girls just had to turn and see what Rodger Day was talking about now, the entire house had to, considering the ruckus he was making. Then everyone was staring at her. The other houses stared as well as practically all of Gryffindor table had ignored the magnificent amounts of food that appeared and risen to see their missing member in the flesh. Frankie's year was in the middle of the huddle with her still lifted in Rodger Day's arms. All asking questions, she could not answer at once. Where had she gone? What she did for almost two whole months? How had she survived? However, all Frankie wanted to do was eat until one of the buttons on her blouse popped and go sleep in her four-poster bed in Gryffindor dorm.

"Come now, everyone. Frankie is very tired from this ordeal. Let her eat, sleep, settle in and she will possibly answer some questions in the near future." Dumbledore said, appearing from the crowd. They all obeyed their head of house and returned to where they had been sitting.

Thanks to Dumbledore, everything was back to normal for a while. Frankie was able to talk with her friends about the classes they were taking and catch up on the gossip she missed while she was away, while eating all the wizarding candy she could. It was perfect. Slughorn came by to deliver her schedule, and of course see her safe and sound, so she would be ready to go back to classes tomorrow. Once finished she raced up the moving stairs to the common room, she was eager to sleep peacefully in a room without nightmares. After having to wait for everyone to catch up and open the Fat Lady for her, she dashed straight to the middle bed of their common room, not bothering to even ask if it was still hers. She didn't even bother to change into her nightgown, just sank into a peaceful oblivion.

Well, almost peaceful.

Nunc uiribus esse...

It wasn't exactly a nightmare, just a voice saying the same thing over and over again. Was it gibberish, or a spell? She simply disregarded it, not only because she didn't understand it, because she didn't want anything to get in the way of her good mood and first day back to classes. Frankie was soon off to Transfiguration, in just of a rush she had been last night. After having to endure muggle school for almost two months, Frankie wanted to actually learn something useful and be encouraged to use her magic, not hide it.

She was a little worried about being behind. Although, she was probably the only one besides Tom that had already read through most of the textbook, she hadn't gotten any practice in. Hopefully, she didn't fail. Dumbledore was an assuring presence and made their task a simple one. Turning a match into a needle. It was an easy transformation. They practiced it when they were first learning transfiguration and was the first thing they had ever had to try and change. Frankie was suddenly confident and said the incantation like she normally would.

Nothing.

She tried again, and again, and again.

"Is everything alright, Frankie?" Tom asked, holding a sharp needle that had been obtained on the very first try.

"My magic is gone…"