"It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Harry woke up bleary-eyed and stiff. She was thankful that Edna hadn't woken her again and that she was able to sleep through the third feeding. The clock at the far side of the room let her know that she woke up just in time for breakfast.

Ignoring the need for more sleep and stretching tiredly she mentally went through her chores for the day. As far as she knew she didn't have to do much more than help Edna with Baby duty, which would leave her free to go out and explore, later.

Hurrying through the motions, she got ready and found herself growing excited for the day to come. With renewed energy, she smiled at Mary as they stood in line to get their two pieces of toast with butter and marmalade and a cup of tea. It wasn't as filling as a hearty and fatty breakfast full of roasted veg and eggs would have been, but it didn't leave her hungry either.

'So, what do you have planned for today?' Mary asked through her second bite of toast.

'I'm still looking for that book shop."

'Hmm," Mary hummed, watching her from the corner of her eye. "Betty and I wanted to go out to the old station to see if we could find some newspapers to sell.'

'Does that work?' Harry asked, looking up at her in surprise.

'Sometimes people leave them lying about on their way to work. We just pick them up and sell them for a few pennies,' Mary explained.

'That's clever.' Harry answered thoughtfully. 'But I really need to find that store. Maybe another time, if that's alright with you?' she asked, and Mary nodded, even if she looked a bit sad.

Harry had been careful not to look into Riddle's direction too much because she didn't want Mary to insinuate anything, again. She'd seen him briefly when they walked in.

He sat alone in the far-right corner of the room and read Potions with Purpose unapologetic amidst the Muggles. She would have hidden her face in embarrassment if she'd gotten away with it.

In his mind, he probably thought that this made him look somewhat special or interesting, but, in reality, he looked like a weirdo who was reading strange stuff that no one cared for.

Harry was going to have a coronary. Tom Riddle was a cruel nerd, Hermione gone wrong, as Ron would say.

X

After the quick breakfast, she hurried outside and started the long walk to Diagon. Today she'd move on from Flourish and Blott's and start looking through the other book shops. She just needed to get a feeling for magical materials that had a potency for something like time travel.

Logically, she knew that they had to have been researching for materials for the first Time Turner already, but without actually breaking into the ministry, she'd have a hard time getting this kind of information.

And breaking into the ministry was off the table, not in times of war, without a way to claim her identity. They'd probably think she was a spy or something. Riddle had actually unknowingly supplied her with a backstory in his attempt to shock and hurt her. She'd just have to verify it before she could actually try to use it.

Harry would have loved nothing more than to reach out to Dumbledore and ask for his help, but their relationship had suffered a lot over the last summer, and, if she was being honest, she couldn't bring herself to trust him, at least not now, when she still felt betrayed by him.

After walking for a few minutes, she felt like she was being watched, and she sighed deeply as she turned around slightly and saw Riddle walking behind her. He was dressed in a simple wizarding robe and his school uniform without a tie.

He probably didn't have much else to change into, but, then again, neither did she.

Not willing to let him know that she'd seen him and was aware of him, she continued to walk. They walked like that for half an hour, ignoring each other and pretending they weren't walking in the same direction.

When they finally reached Diagon Alley, Harry had had enough. Not enough to talk to him, Merlin no, but enough to duck into Diagon. So, she cast a few quick transfiguration charms, and stalked away, in an effort to ditch him.

Once, she ducked into a little bookstore just around the corner of Knockturn Alley, she was sure she'd lost him. The bookshop was old and a bit dingy, but it had a feeling of seniority over the newer shops Harry had explored in her time. It smelled like old books and dust. The warm light and the dark wood had something comforting about them. Harry heaved a deep sigh and started towards the beautiful dark bookcase.

'Are you looking for something specific?' an all too familiar voice drawled behind her.

'Yeah, some peace and quiet,' Harry said, without needing to turn around to know that he was sporting a victorious-looking smirk. How had he found her so quickly?

'I have to say, I'm a bit baffled that you didn't think to transfigure your hair. It's quite distinctive,' Riddle remarked casually as he leaned against the bookcase she was currently browsing.

Harry, who'd taken a few steps away from him and was still looking through rows of books, hummed absentmindedly. Her hair wasn't that distinctive, at least it didn't seem that way when you hung out with the Weasley clan regularly.

She felt a sharp tug at one of her locks and glared up at Riddle who predictably smirked. He didn't say anything, just kept her hair in his grasp, flirting with the idea of pulling at it again.

It seemed a bit juvenile, the hairpulling.

'What?' she finally asked, unnerved, as she reached out to slap his hand away from her hair.

'You didn't answer my question,' he said, and he actually sounded offended as he rubbed the back of his hand.

She groaned inwardly. If she continued to antagonize him, she'd probably pay for it later. He already knew that she didn't plan on ratting him out because of her little stunt with the closet.

'I'm looking for a potion,' she improvised instead, and Riddle tugged on her hair again, much sharper this time.

She didn't react to it, just kept reading her book, when she heard his derision-drenched voice behind her.

'What kind of Potion?' he sounded like he was already losing his patience, which was impressive considering she hadn't really done much to rile him up. She was going to have to evaluate if riling him up was really worth it. She knew that Tom Riddle will have killed someone by this time next year, and it would certainly mess the timeline up, if that someone ended up being her.

'The kind that's none of your business,' Harry answered. She'd never excelled at impulse control.

She reached for one of the books that were situated on a higher shelf, and was promptly shoved into the bookcase. Harry pushed back against him and away from the bookshelf to grasp at his arms as he gripped her by her hips. Her nails were scratching and biting into Riddle's skin as the books pressed painfully into her front.

When she heard footsteps, she tried to wiggle away, but he wouldn't let up.

'Ageing Potion,' she answered hurriedly, nails clawing helplessly at Riddle's arms, not wanting to get caught like that by anyone. His fingers tightened once more around her hips before letting her go, and she knew that that would leave some ugly colored bruises behind.

When he finally stepped away, Harry immediately pushed herself away from the bookshelf, pulled out a book, and pretended to look through it as the owner of the footsteps, an old witch, looked around the corner, both eyebrows pulled up.

'Can I help you?' she asked, watching them critically.

'No, thank you,' Tom said, smiling charmingly while Harry looked up from the book index.

'I was just looking for a book on Ageing Potions?' she said, ignoring the way Tom's grin tightened.

The older witch watched her closely. 'There's a reference in the book Moste Potente Potions, but we don't have it in stock at the moment.'

Harry was about to ask another question when Tom cut in, 'Thank you for your help, we'll be taking our leave now.'

We'll be taking our leave now?! Harry inwardly scoffed. Well aware that it would look very weird if she tried to struggle against him, she smiled at the elderly woman and let Tom pull her out of the shop.

He didn't stop in front of it though. He kept pulling her into one of the empty corners along the alley.

'What kind of Harpy are you?' he asked her bitingly while he rolled up his sleeves to look at the deep crescent marks and scratches along his arms.

'I'm not going to pull my skirt down to show you the bruises you left, but you can rest assured, we're even.' She grumbled as she pointed her wand at her hips and cast a quick Episkey.

Tom's eyes whipped back up to her, but, before he could say whatever insult he was about to say, she cast a quick Episkey on his arms, turned around, and stalked back to the main street.

He didn't follow her this time.

It had been a total lie, a distraction, but the Ageing Potion, might very well hold the secret ingredient she'd been searching for.

It wasn't a huge leap to make to think that the very essence that aged the cells in your body might be able to transcend the concept of time and bring her back. Alright, so she was reaching, but she needed to start somewhere.

As she walked to Flourish and Blott's, she noticed the group of young men. They were about her age and two of them seemed eerily similar. A Malfoy and a Black, she surmised before she ducked into the familiar bookshop and out of their line of sight.

She needed money, she thought sadly. It wasn't optional. It wasn't something she could put off any longer. She really needed money.

'Are you looking for help?' she asked the stressed-looking man behind the counter, and he turned towards her in surprise.

He examined her. 'Only for the summer. We were just about to put up a sign,' he nodded towards what he was penning, and she followed the movement.

It said Help Wanted, in big loopy letters. Two galleons a week didn't sound bad at all. The man cleared his throat, pulling her attention back from the sign. 'We just need someone to help with getting everything ready for the customers, organizing books, that sort of thing. You need to be able to cast Accio and you should be aware that anyone we take on, will have to stay through the hustle of back-to-school season,' he explained while pulling out a little piece of parchment before mustering her sharply.

'That would be perfect actually,' she said, feeling more and more confident as she stepped closer to the counter.

'What's your name?' the older man asked.

'Harry Evans,' she said, a bit reluctant, not knowing if he'd be bothered by it being a Muggle surname.

'Alright,' he nodded, penning it down. 'How old are you?'

'I turn fifteen in July,' she said as she pushed an errant hair strand back behind her ear. Technically, she already was fifteen, but she wouldn't turn sixteen for eight more months in her original timeline, so making herself older seemed less realistic. The man didn't seem to mind her name or her age.

"How well can you cast an Accio?"

"As if my life depends on it," she said, smiling confidently.

'Well then, Harry, I'll show this to the owner. He'll be here later tonight. Come by tomorrow and I'll let you know,' he dismissed, and she nodded.

That hadn't been too bad. If it didn't work out here, she could always try the Quidditch shop. They'd also need help with all of the students flooding it each year.

She smiled to herself as she walked out of the crowded shop. Her little endeavor had taken a bit longer than she'd hoped it would, but she still had enough time to research Kent before having to go back.

Taking a page out of Mary's book, she strolled around the streets and looked for old newspapers. Knowing the Daily Prophet, she was well aware that they'd milk a tragedy like that for weeks if it really had happened. Tom could have been baiting her after all.

Mindful of the people around her, she carefully started collecting strewn about pages, and, after another hour had passed, she'd gotten enough to turn back. She'd been thrifty about it, not wanting to risk someone noticing her.

There had been three articles on the attack on Kent from everything she'd gathered. The attack had hit muggles and wizards alike. They were talking about twelve small communities who'd been completely eradicated. Apparently, it had been so bad that people that were still burning had apparated directly into St. Mungos begging and pleading for help. The perversely specific description and documentation of wounds and curses left her shuddering.

She knew danger. But she didn't know war and that was becoming increasingly clear.

X

Tom returned later than her and ignored her for the rest of the night, but he still accompanied her to Diagon Alley the next morning. She didn't talk much, but Tom did.

Tom had a habit of watching others and commenting on what kind of life they must lead and how undeserving they were of it. It was more of an incessant monologue than anything else. He was well aware that Harry didn't agree with him and tried to ignore him, which he took as an incentive to get a reaction out of her.

They parted ways as soon as they reached Diagon, which was a relief.

To her delight, the man from the other day smiled at her when she went to visit Flourish and Blott's, bright and early. She'd gotten the job. After briefly discussing the conditions with her, he introduced himself as Daniel Kettleburn.

'You can take your lunch break at noon, but you'll have to stay 'til five,' he reminded her.

'You get paid daily, that's 5 sickles and 15 Knuts, a day,' he explained. She was glad that she'd get the money daily because she knew that she would have to skip meals at the orphanage, and she couldn't afford to eat anything in her lunch break otherwise. It was also enough to purchase a book or two.

'This,' he gestured towards the back of the office where a few thousand books were stapled so high up, they almost reached the ceiling. 'Is your new office,' he said.

'Those,' he nodded towards the rolled-up string and the scissors that were lying on the desk that filled up the center of it, 'Are your two new best friends. You'll be organizing and sorting through packets of books for the next school year. Starting with the first years is highly recommended,' Daniel turned around to her, and Harry nodded.

After casting the Accio charm a hell of a lot more times than she'd ever needed to before, she managed to bind her first few packets before lunch. She also had to fill out two cards for each and every packet, detailing what books it held for the customer, and in what condition they were in for the bookstore.

'We do secondhand packets, too. It's required of you to fill these out because we need to make sure our inventory is correct,' he explained, curtly.

'If you need help just, come get me,' Daniel called, hurrying back to the counter as a customer rang the bell for him.

All in all, Harry was really happy with herself when she bypassed the Leaky during her lunch break, ignoring her empty stomach in favor of the book shop she'd been forced to leave the day before. She'd eat something great for lunch tomorrow. Hopefully.

The rest of the day was all right, she was proud to say that she didn't need to ask for help once.

Harry met Riddle again as she was leaving Diagon. They were both in a hurry, and he looked at her for a moment before his eyes narrowed. 'You got a job?' he asked eyebrows pulled up.

She examined him, taking in his disarrayed robes and the exhaustion he was trying to hide. 'You do, too.'

'Yeah,' he nodded. 'At Burgin's and Borke,' he said, weirdly proud of his job as if that place wasn't sketchy at best. To be fair, it probably wasn't in this time, she could only imagine how many dark, and rich customers frequented the place.

'Sounds dark and unpleasant,' she remarked as they took a sharp turn.

'Well, where do you work?' he asked, sounding offended.

'Flourish and Blott's.'

'I can't imagine that they pay well,' Riddle remarked scathingly, side-eyeing her.

Harry laughed. 'It's only two galleons per week, but—' she was abruptly stopped by a hand on her arm.

'What?' Riddle asked, looking pale and honestly shocked from his position towering over her.

Harry eyed him in irritation. 'What are you going to do, Riddle?' she asked, mockingly. 'Steal my lunch money?'

Tom just stared at her. 'They give it to you daily?' he asked and turned visibly angrier. Her eyes widened, as she nodded.

'How much do you get paid?' she asked, already aware that it was probably a lot less then he deserved. That seemed to spur him into action again. He ignored her and stalked forward.

'Tom, I'm serious. How much do you get paid?' she repeated, catching up to him, and he seemed to startle at her use of his first name.

'Two galleons a month,' he pressed out between grit teeth and Harry stared at him.

'What?' she asked, and to her surprise, she sounded honestly angry.

'I'm going to kill Malfoy when I get back,' he seethed, not even trying to hide his anger anymore. His handsome face was contorted in a horrific grimace of pure unadulterated rage as he kept stalking down the street.

'Is that the one who got you the job?' she asked, knowing the answer already. God fucking dammit, Malfoys were just the worst.

'He pulled me away at the end of third year and told me about it,' he said. 'It's a prestigious and well-known shop that pulls in a lot of rich customers,' he imitated mockingly, and as glad as she was, that he didn't direct his anger at her, she knew that he couldn't show up at the orphanage like that.

'Tom, stop!' She finally caught up enough to pull at his arm again and was promptly shoved against a wall, this time with her back chafing against the bricks behind her, and his hands securely placed over her upper arms as he pressed her back into it and menaced over her.

'Make fun of me for this and you won't live to tell the tale,' he threatened darkly, and Harry pulled and pushed against him to get to her wand. But every time she thought she managed to gain a bit of ground on him, he shoved her back into the brick wall again. It was much more inconvenient and annoying, than actually hurtful.

'I'm not going to make fun of you,' she ground out. 'You just can't show up at the orphanage like that, you'll get into so much fucking trouble, it's just going to make everything worse,' she hissed at him while simultaneously trying to force him back.

He blinked at her, thrown off. 'Why do you care?' he asked eyes narrowed again.

Harry rolled her eyes. 'I don't have an ulterior motive here. You're angry and I'm telling you the smart thing to do would be to take a fucking step back,' she said, struggling against him for emphasis. She'd probably scratched his arms up again, too. Good.

'And calm the fuck down, before Mrs. Cole throws you out.' She heaved a deep breath, already feeling the pressure against her arms disappear.

He was still fuming, and she looked at him calculatingly. This was probably a bad idea. But she could kind of relate to him, and it wasn't like anything she could do would change his view on the world anyway.

'Do you want to eat at the Leaky?' she asked, tiredly. She had wanted to do that anyway if she was being honest. They had advertised a hearty goulash as their dish of the day, and she'd been craving it ever since she saw it.

He looked angry again, and she realized what the issue was. 'It's on me,' she said, hating herself a little for it because god fucking dammit, she needed the money.

He watched her for a bit longer. 'Why are you doing this?' he asked looking suspicious again.

'Because we're in a really shitty situation and if it's a toss-up between you and Mrs. Cole, I'd rather have you on my team,' she said shrugging.

Riddle frowned at her before he gave her a knowing look.

'Billy Stubbs,' he said slowly.

Harry stared at her hands, feeling the hot blush of shame on her face.

'I can handle him,' she said easily. She knew she could handle him with her magic, and she already promised herself that she'd use it before the boy got any wrong ideas. He'd been staring a lot lately, and she was starting to get a bad feeling about sleeping so far away from everyone else.

'Until he snaps,' Tom said, before watching her again. 'You'd be in Slytherin, you know,' he said and now it was Harry's turn to look offended.

Tom stared at her in exasperation as if she was being difficult or something. 'That's a good thing. It means you're a clever witch,' he said, and Harry looked at him in shock.

'I didn't think about it like that when I asked you,' she said honestly, which earned her another side-eye from him.

'Maybe not clever, then, just opportunistic,' he finished as he walked back to the direction, they'd come from to get to the Leaky.

They sat at a corner table and both ordered a butterbeer and the goulash. She paid the two sickles for their order upfront and just watched the people around them. They were mostly ignoring them, which was nice. Wizarding fashion hadn't changed a whole lot over the years. The women's dresses seemed a bit more elaborate and colorful than Harry had seen in her own time.

There were also a lot more families around with smaller kids. She'd rarely seen them roam Diagon Alley before. Granted, she hadn't spent a lot of time there, except for the time she accidentally blew Aunt Marge up, but still. It had a different feeling about it. Weirdly, it seemed freer and more constricted at once. People acted a bit colder.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the arrival of the food. Riddle didn't say much during their meal. He seemed to relish the taste of the food as much as she did.

'Why are you sleeping in the nursery?' he asked after his first few bites.

'The alternative was the attic.'

'It's not really safe,' he remarked casually.

'If something happens, I have my wand,' she waved away.

'Yeah, you do, but you've held back on my account multiple times, now. Will you really use it, when you're in trouble?' He eyed her curiously and she snorted derisively.

'If Billy Stubbs shows up in my bedroom and tries to touch me while I'm sleeping, you best believe that I'm going to curse him, without even wasting a thought about you.'

Tom's eyes widened, and he looked surprised, now. 'Stubbs generally just beats people up or rats them out, what makes you think he'd want to do that?' He sounded almost casual, when he asked her that.

Harry grabbed a piece of bread before she answered. 'Just a feeling. He stares a lot.'

Tom frowned, 'He's always staring at girls.'

She looked up from her food and smirked at him. 'That's a weird thing to notice, Tom,' she said dryly.

'He's been slapped so often for it, it's not really all that surprising anymore.'

'He's been taunting me a lot before you came back. It just felt like he singled me out,' she shrugged.

'You're fun to rile up,' Tom admitted, for whatever reason. Seriously? Who said something like that to someone? She sighed.

'So, I shouldn't be worried?'

Tom paused for a moment before he watched her again. 'You should keep an eye on it, but you don't need to worry,' he finally said, and something about the way he phrased that last part gave her pause.

'You're not going to hurt him, are you?' she asked, watching him over her butterbeer.

'Not, if he doesn't give me a reason,' Tom shrugged.

She eyed him warily but didn't give it too much thought. This was the man that would become Voldemort. He was bound to stir up some kind of trouble, sooner or later.

After they were done eating, they went back to the Muggle street and hurried along to make it back in time for curfew.

Once they arrived at the street that led up to the orphanage, it was already seven-fifteen, which meant they'd be cutting it close, but, when Harry turned the corner, she noticed that Tom stayed back. Their eyes met, and she realized that he didn't want them showing up at the same time, implying that they'd come back together.

She quickly nodded at him and ran half of the remaining way. When she arrived, Mrs. Cole was already waiting for her.

'Where were you?' she asked, sternly.

'I found the book shop,' Harry explained. 'They're giving me a job,' she mumbled, and Mrs. Cole's eyes widened, and then she smiled.

'Where is it? Did you eat anything there?' she asked, worriedly.

'Down by Leadenhall Market and yes, one of the girls there shared their lunch with me.'

'That's good,' Mrs. Cole nodded. 'If you work, you can actually save up. God knows, where most of my girls end up,' she said quietly, and Harry did a doubletake at that.

Yeah, she had to come up with a contingency plan, and soon because this was not a world, she knew how to live in.

When Tom showed up a few minutes later, he wasn't asked where he'd been. He wasn't reprimanded either. He just got a scathing look and that was it. He was smug about it, too. As if he were made invincible, simply by knowing how hated he was and not caring about it, anymore.

Harry knew that feeling of accomplishment, all too well. She always felt like she won when she managed to do something and walk away unscathed, too, but she had to say, that from an outside perspective, it looked a bit pathetic.