Hermione sighed as she wiped the sweat from her brow, pausing for a moment before resuming her chore of washing the floor. She had been at it for over an hour now and she was nowhere close to even being done.
Weeks had passed since her arrival and she was still struggling to get used to her new life. When she first heard that she would be going back in time to befriend Tom Riddle as a child, she had assumed that it would be easy. After all, how hard could it be? Clearly she had no idea just how hard it would be.
Life at Wool's Orphanage was anything but pleasant. She had heard that orphans were often mistreated in this time, but she never quite understood until she was one herself. At the very least she could say that her days were not boring, as they were filled with lots of chores and lessons, leaving little time for leisure.
Each day basically consisted of the same routine.
Wake-up calls came at 6:30 AM, after which they would dress and line up to use the bathrooms. Then, they would head down to breakfast, which consisted of little else than porridge and the occasional piece of dry bread. After that, they were made to go back upstairs to tidy their rooms. Each morning, Mrs. Cole would come around and inspect the tidiness of each individual room. If you happened to pass her inspection, then you were given chores to do. If not… Let's just say that she learned very quickly that Mrs. Cole did not tolerate any untidiness…
Once you were done with your chores, then you would attend classes. Hermione didn't usually attend, seeing as she already knew how to read and write, but occasionally she would help some of the other children with their learning.
Dinner was at 8:00 PM and then it was straight off to bed. Needless to say, it was not a particularly exciting life and she longed for the day when she could leave this place behind and return to Hogwarts.
She now finally understood just what Harry had gone through at the Dursleys and why he dreaded going home each summer. She feared that she would dread it just as much.
At the thought of Harry, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of homesickness. Many nights she had cried herself to sleep, wishing that she could see Harry and Ron again for even just a minute. How she wished for a comforting hug and a gentle reassurance, telling her that everything would be alright. Alas, she knew that was not something she was going to get.
Shaking those thoughts from her head, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, reminding herself that the sooner she finished washing the floor, the sooner she could go up to her room and relax. She didn't exactly have anything to do in her room, but it was still better than scrubbing floors until your hands hurt.
Eventually, she finished washing the floor, or at the very least, the part of it that she had been assigned to clean. With a nod of approval from Mrs. Cole, she headed upstairs, keen on taking a short nap.
She had just reached the second stairwell when she caught sight of Tom. It would appear that it was his job to wash the floor in the corridors. He hadn't noticed her as he was facing the opposite way, but she could see that he was tired. His poor body was trembling with fatigue and she couldn't help but notice that his hands and knees were scraped and bloodied, a sure sign that Mrs. Cole had scolded him again.
It was moments like these when she found herself conflicted. She knew of all the horrible things this boy would grow up to do and yet she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He was just a child, forced to endure torture unlike the rest of the children in the orphanage. For he was the only one she had ever found with any sort of markings on his skin. The others were left untouched for the most part.
As tired and miserable as she was, she picked up another bucket and washcloth and knelt down beside him to help.
"If you're tempted to give up, think about how one day we'll be gone from this place and we'll never have to scrub floors again," she whispered to him encouragingly.
He glanced over at her, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes before he nodded and glanced back down again.
Together they managed to finish the corridor in record time. Hermione felt like collapsing after that, but she held herself together as they put away their cleaning supplies, tucking them into a nearby cupboard.
As soon as that was done, she headed over to the bathroom, which fortunately didn't have a line-up at the moment, and wet a towel before making her way back over to Tom and using it to wipe his wounds.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Tom asked. "You already know that I won't do anything bad to you."
She nodded her head. "I know that, but it's what friends do."
"Friends?"
The word sounded almost foreign coming from his mouth. It clearly wasn't a word he used often. She couldn't help but wonder if it was a word he had even heard before.
"Well yes, I like to think that you're my friend," she claimed. "After all, you're really the only person who bothers to talk to me, let alone understand what I'm capable of."
He didn't reply to that as he seemed to be deep in thought, but didn't stop her from cleaning his cuts and scrapes. The slightest wince every now and then let her know that he wasn't completely unresponsive.
When she was done, she tucked the cloth into her pocket. She stayed there with him for a few moments, waiting for him to say something. After a while, she began to suspect that he wasn't going to say anything. She had just turned and was about to head off to her room, when she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.
"You like books, right?"
Turning back to face him, she was surprised to see that he actually looked rather nervous. She was taken aback by this. Tom Marvolo Riddle, as in the future Lord Voldemort, was actually standing here before her, nervously asking her if she liked books. She was tempted to laugh, but stopped herself from doing so, as she didn't think it was a good idea.
"I love books."
Her response seemed to calm whatever nerves he had.
"I got a book from the library last week, and I… would you care to read it with me?"
Again, she was taken by surprise. It seemed that he too could be full of surprises.
Smiling up at him, she nodded her head eagerly. "I'd love to!"
It wasn't nearly as full as her own, but he did manage to smile back at her a bit.
Now, she wasn't exactly sure, for Tom wasn't the easiest person to understand, but she got the feeling that this was his way of telling her that he did in fact want to be her friend. At the very least, he wanted to spend time with her, and that was good enough for her.
Feeling happy with the progress she was making with him, she followed him to his room, shutting the door behind them.
Tom picked up a rather thick hardcover book from his desk and climbed up onto his bed, patting the space next to him for her to join. Once the two of them were situated on the tiny bed, laying on their stomachs next to each other, they flipped open the book and began to read.
"Let me know when you're finished with a page and I'll turn it over."
She found that, much to her delight, Tom was almost just as fast as her at reading. Not only that, but she found it thoroughly enjoyable to just read in silence with him. There weren't a lot of people she could make such a claim about. She had always found it difficult to read with Harry and Ron around, as they were always making noise or asking her questions. It was nice to have someone who enjoyed the peace and quiet of reading just as much as she did.
They had read for over an hour and were almost done the whole book, when a knock suddenly came at the door.
Startling out of her book induced fantasy state, she looked around in a panic for somewhere to hide. If it was Mrs. Cole, and she couldn't come up with any other ideas as to who would be knocking, she would surely scold her for being caught in Tom's bedroom and maybe even punished. Mrs. Cole didn't exactly like her spending time with him.
"Behind the door," he whispered to her.
Nodding her head at the suggestion, she quickly climbed off the bed and dashed into the corner of the room where she knew she would be hidden from view.
A moment later, the door opened. Hermione held out her hands to stop the door from smashing into her.
"Tom, you've got a visitor," Mrs. Cole said. "This is Mr. Dumberton... sorry, Dunderbore. He's come to tell you… well, I'll let him do it."
It didn't take Hermione long to figure out who Mrs. Cole was talking about.
Dumbledore... Not only was he alive, but he was in this very room with her and Tom. Having heard the story from Harry, she knew all about how Dumbledore himself had come to Tom to tell him about Hogwarts. Surely she had forgotten about him with everything that had happened since her arrival.
She heard a pair of heavy footsteps enter the room, presumably belonging to Dumbledore, followed shortly after by the sound of Mrs. Cole's heels clicking away, closing the door on her way out.
"Oh good, you're both here," Dumbledore said, turning to Hermione with a kind smile. "This will make my job easier."
Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of her former headmaster.
He was younger and much more vibrant looking. His long hair and beard which had once been as white as snow were now auburn and he was wearing a rather bizarre looking plum velvet suit.
"Miss Granger, I presume?"
She could only nod her head in reply as she momentarily found herself unable to speak.
"Who are you?" Tom asked, causing them both to return their focus to him. "What do you want with me and Hermione?"
Stepping towards him, Dumbledore held out his hand to Tom, who made no effort to take it. After a few moments, Dumbledore retracted his hand and pulled up the wooden chair to sit down.
"I am Professor Dumbledore."
"Professor?" both Tom and Hermione repeated.
That was right. Dumbledore wasn't the headmaster at this time. If she wasn't mistaken, he had taught Transfiguration before Professor McGonagall.
"Is that like 'doctor'?" Tom asked warily. "Did she send for you to have a look at us?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, no."
Tom didn't believe him, and now that she knew what he had gone through, and even experienced a taste of it for herself, she could honestly say that she understood why. It was hard for such a child to trust adults when the only adult he had grown up with abused him terribly.
"Who are you? Tell the truth!" he insisted, glaring at the man with glare so intense that it gave Hermione goosebumps.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore seemed completely unfazed by Tom, as he just sat there smiling pleasantly at him. "I do not lie. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer both of you a place at my school."
What Tom did next once more surprised her. Leaping from his bed, he rushed past Dumbledore and over to her, stretching his body out as if to shield her from the professor.
"You can't fool me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it?" he declared. "We're not going and you can't make us!"
She could hardly believe it… Had she really had that much of an impact on Tom that he would try to protect her, be it rather unnecessary, from a man he believed wished to harm them? It seemed too good to be true, and yet it appeared to be true nonetheless.
Fortunately, Dumbledore was nothing if not a patient man. "I am a teacher and, if you will both sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you-"
"I'd like to see them try," Tom cut him off.
Sensing that he wasn't about to listen to anything Dumbledore had to say the way he currently was, Hermione reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. She felt him tense momentarily under her touch, but soon relaxed as he realized it was just her. The poor boy really was paranoid and in desperate need of help.
"Tom, it's okay," she assured him. "I don't think this man means to hurt us. I'm not saying we should trust him entirely, but we should at least hear what he has to say."
After a moment, Tom finally gave in and dropped his arms, starting back towards the bed with her following shortly after him, sitting down on the bed next to each other. Tom kept his eyes on Dumbledore, but didn't say a word more.
Professor Dumbledore then launched into the usual explanation about how Hogwarts was a school of magic, where young witches and wizards could come and learn to hone their special abilities. Tom was skeptical at first, still convinced that Dumbledore thought he was mad, but gradually started to calm down around him when he began to explain magic to them.
As they talked, Hermione couldn't help but remember the day she first discovered magic back in her own time.
She had been much the same age as she currently was when none other than Professor McGonagall came to visit her and her parents at their home in Heathgate, Hampstead. At first she had been intimidated by the stern looking woman, but she quickly warmed up to her as she told her all about the wonders of magic.
With such memories at the forefront of her mind, she did her best to mimic the same reactions to what Dumbledore was telling her now.
Every now and then she would sneak a glance over at Tom to see how he was reacting to all of this. Harry had described to her how thrilled he had been to learn that he was a wizard, and while she did see a bit of excitement present, it wasn't nearly as profound as Harry had made it sound. She wasn't sure if it was just her own hopefulness, but she wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that she had already shown him some of her own magic.
When he was finished speaking he took out his wand and pointed it towards the small wardrobe in the far corner. No sooner had he done so than a rattling sound came from deep within.
"I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe."
Tom hesitated briefly but crossed the room and opened the door to it. Much like her own, it was bare, save for a couple odd pieces of clothing. On the very top shelf there was a small cardboard box, shaking quite uncontrollably.
Hermione couldn't help but glance at Dumbledore apprehensively. What was he playing at? Why would he be concerned with the few belongings that Tom had in this world?
"Take it out," the professor instructed.
With trembling hands, Tom plucked the box from it's shelf and brought it back over. There was something unsettling in Dumbledore's eyes as he silently motioned for the boy to show him what was inside. Whatever it was, Hermione didn't like that particular look.
Lifting the lid off the box, Hermione was confused to find that there was nothing much out of the ordinary inside; a red yo-yo, a silver thimble and a tarnished mouth organ. The way Dumbledore was acting, she had half-expected there to be something terrible inside like a human skull.
"Thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts."
Her eyes widened slightly. Were these actually things that Tom had stolen? It didn't quite make sense to her as to why he would go through the trouble of stealing such ordinary objects? She might not have known him long, but she felt she knew him well enough to know that he had little interest in much else than reading.
"Yes, sir," Tom said in a voice that lacked any and all emotion.
Dumbledore then turned to face her. "Is there anything you wish to admit to, Miss Granger?"
She suddenly felt as though the air had been stolen from her lungs as she felt her body stiffen. Surely she had heard wrong… It couldn't be… Why would Dumbledore think so badly of her? And how did he even know that Tom had stolen those things.
Maybe it was the result of the lingering resentment she felt towards him at forcing her to make this trip into the past, but his insinuation left her feeling angry.
"No, sir," she practically spat at him.
Nodding his head, he relented in his accusations and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a pair of identical letters, both bearing the seal of Hogwarts.
As they read their letters, Dumbledore explained all about their student fund for school supplies and how they would need to go to Diagon Alley to purchase what they needed. Dumbledore offered to take the two of them himself, but Tom shot his offer down without hesitation, insisting that they would be just fine on their own.
"When you find the Leaky Cauldron, you must go inside and ask for Tom the barman. Easy enough to remember, as he shares your name."
She noticed the way that Tom's lips twitched irritably at the mention. Harry had mentioned that he always hated his name.
Once they had all that they needed, Dumbledore got up from the chair, pushing it back towards the desk and headed for the door.
"I look forward to seeing you both on the first of September."
Then, without further ado, he left.
Hermione let out a deep breath as she collapsed back onto the bed. Perhaps it was just the chores catching up with her, but Dumbledore's visit had left her feeling exhausted. She had never known Dumbledore to treat children so suspiciously. Well, no that wasn't entirely true. He had never been entirely truthful with her and Harry as they were growing up, always hiding things from them, but he had never treated them like this.
"I don't trust him."
She nodded her head in agreement, when a previous question came back to mind.
"Did you really steal those objects?"
He didn't reply for the first while as he stared blankly at the contents inside of the box. Reaching in, he picked up the tarnished mouth organ and held it up for her to see.
"This is the only object I own in the whole world. Mrs. Cole found it in my mother's pocket. She said it belonged to my father."
Turning it over, he showed her the inscription on it. Inscribed in neat letters was the name 'Thomas Riddle'.
She didn't know what to say to that. Considering the fact that she probably knew more about his parents than he did at the moment, she decided not to say anything at all about it.
"And the other two?" she asked. "They don't seem like things you'd be particularly interested in."
The tips of his mouth tugged up ever so slightly at that. "You're right. They were lying around in the room when I got here, left by its previous occupant no doubt."
Well, at the very least it was a relief to know that he hadn't actually stolen anything. Though that didn't answer why Dumbledore had accused him of stealing in the first place. The only thing she could think of was that maybe Merope had stolen the mouth organ from Tom Riddle Sr and that Dumbledore had brought it up to try and encourage Tom not to follow in his family's particularly twisted footsteps.
Again, Dumbledore never had been easy to understand.
"Do you think he was telling the truth? About the school he mentioned and about magic?"
"Yes, I think he was. I mean, how else would you explain what we can do?" she answered without hesitation. "He's offering us a chance to leave this place, maybe not permanently as we'd probably return over summer holidays, but we'd still be gone for the whole school year.
The thought of that certainly seemed to brighten his mood as a full fledged smirk spread across his face. "I suppose it would be worth it to be able to leave the old cat behind."
"That's a horrible thing to say, Tom! An insult of the worst kind to all cats!"
Tom did something that she had never seen him do before. He laughed, and it wasn't at all like she expected. It wasn't evil or maniacal at all. It was actually a rather pleasant sound. She couldn't help but join in. As mean as it seemed to say, she couldn't exactly deny that Mrs. Cole was deserving of the joke.
