The streets of London were much like Hermione remembered them and yet different at the same time. It was strange to see so many cars that would have been considered antiques in her time, and so many people wearing clothing that she had only ever seen before in museums. The whole world was like a museum to her, and while she had never been the most enthused by history, it was still fascinating to her.

While the streets were crowded with people dressed to the nines with an assortment of fancy furs and hats, there were a few of those who were considerably less privileged. Every now and then she would spot a group of beggars poking their heads out of alleyways, holding up tin cans as they pleaded for even so much as a bread crumb.

It broke her heart to see such things and made her feel rather guilty for grumbling about her own life. Sure, she was stuck in an orphanage where she was made to slave away for Mrs. Cole, but she still had a roof over her head and two half-way decent meals a day. These people had neither of those things.

She had to force herself to look away, ignoring their cries for help as she followed after Tom down the sidewalk. There will always be those who are homeless and hungry in the world, she thought. As much as she would like to help everyone, it was impossible for her to do so. If she succeeded in her mission, she would save the lives of many who had perished in her time. That is enough, she told herself.

"Where did the professor say that we were supposed to go again?" Hermione asked, focusing her full attention at the task at hand.

Tom, who was holding the piece of paper that Dumbledore had given them with directions, was looking this way and that to find something. "It's called the Leaky Cauldron and apparently it's supposed to be at the end of this street, next to a barber shop.

"Though, I wouldn't be surprised if he gave us the wrong directions." Tom added cryptically.

Initially she had expected to know exactly where the Leaky Cauldron was located, seeing as she had been there many times, but it was becoming more and more clear to her that she didn't remember it as well as she thought. She hadn't accounted for the fact that London in 1938 was not the same as London in 1997.

They searched for a while longer without luck. Hermione had thought for sure that they would be able to spot it easily enough with a blue and red swirly pole standing out front, but there didn't seem to be any such pole to be found. Eventually they gave up on searching and sat down to rest for a bit.

"Perhaps we ought to return to the orphanage," Tom suggested. "I think it's clear to see that this so-called professor was lying."

He didn't show it outright, but she could tell that he was disappointed. The thought of leaving the orphanage behind and entering a world of magic had delighted him just as much as it had her. However, she refused to give up so easily. Unlike him, she knew for a fact that this world did exist. They just had to find it.

She recalled what Dumbledore had told them, as well as her own memories of visiting the place. It was made purposefully difficult to find in order to keep muggles away. She imagined that the building itself wouldn't have changed that much in fifty years, as it looked as though it came straight out of the dark ages.

She started searching again with that particular architecture style in mind. There were a couple of such buildings scattered across the street, but they all looked to be abandoned, making it difficult to determine which one was hiding a magical pub.

She was just about to look away when she suddenly saw a woman dressed in vibrant green robes much like she had seen witches and wizards wear, escorting a young boy towards one of the abandoned buildings.

"Look over there," she nudged Tom, pointing the mother and son pair out to him. "The lady is wearing a witch hat."

Before he even had time to fully process it, Hermione had grabbed him by the hand and led him off in the same direction.

The appearance of the building before them began to change with every step they took towards it. The windows which had previously been boarded up, were now in perfect condition with not so much as a crack in the glass and a sign appeared out of nowhere, hanging above the door that read 'Leaky Cauldron'.

Hermione couldn't contain her excitement as they waited for the woman and her son to slip inside before following after. She couldn't wait to re-enter the wizarding world. Even though she was fifty-some years into the past, it still felt like home to her.

The moment they crossed the threshold inside, they were bombarded by the smell of alcohol mixed with smoke. It was by no means necessary pleasant, but it was familiar to her and made her feel oddly at ease.

The pub wasn't overly crowded, with only a handful of people scattered about, seated at tables with a bowl of stew and a mug of drink. It would have been no different than the average pub had it not been for the fact that the spoons were stirring by themselves and dishes were flying through the air to and from the tables.

"Excuse me, sir, but could you tell us where we might find Diagon Alley?" she asked the man at the bar. Much like Dumbledore, Tom the barman was quite a bit younger than she was used to, but it was still him. "Professor Dumbledore said that you might be able to help us."

Turning to face them, he gave them a good look over. "A couple of first years, are you?"

They both nodded their heads.

"Very well, follow me."

Silently they followed him behind the bar, through the storage room and out through the back door where they found themselves face to face with a brick wall.

"This is Diagon Alley?" Tom asked with a furrowed brow.

The barman shook his head as he pulled out his wand, which incidentally looked like nothing more than a long twin twig, and began to tap the wall with it. Hermione could still remember the exact combination. Three bricks up and two across.

"No, lad, this is Diagon Alley."

The bricks began to move all on their own, forming an archway that looked out onto the familiar cobblestone street she knew all too well.

Her eyes sparkled with joy as she took in the sights. She had visited Diagon Alley many times before but somehow each time was just as exciting as the first. It was like going to a carnival. There were always new wonders to behold.

Remembering her own first time visiting, it wasn't hard to imagine what Tom was feeling. She could clearly see the look of awe in his eyes. He was practically bursting with excitement, eager to explore every inch of the place. Then there was a part of him that hungered for the knowledge contained within this place. He yearned to learn everything there was to know about magic.

The more she got to know him, the more she realized that he really wasn't all that different from her. As strange as it was that she could relate in such a way to the future Lord Voldemort, it was also rather nice. She had never met anyone who hungered for knowledge as much as she did.

With his hand still wrapped in hers, the two of them hurried off down the street, winding their way through the crowd of witches and wizards both young and old. They didn't even cast a backward glance to see the archway closing in behind them.

Pulling out their school supply list, they decided to head to the bookstore first. Hermione led them straight to what might just be her favorite shop in all of Diagon Alley; Flourish and Blotts.

The necessary set books for first years were mostly similar to those she had in her original first year, save for a couple that hadn't been written yet. Some of the information in the books was bound to be different as well and she was looking forward to comparing which publication was more accurate.

They had a bit of trouble figuring out how they were supposed to pay for everything, but then they remembered how Dumbledore had mentioned the school having a student fund. The shopkeeper explained to them that any and all of their purchases would be charged to the school's account.

Next they went to get their uniforms. She was surprised to find that Madam Malkin's wasn't in existence yet. It really shouldn't have come as that big of a shock to her though as she thought about it. Madam Malkin had seemed rather young. She wasn't even sure if the kind witch was even born yet.

That meant that the only place to get robes was at Twilfitt and Tatting's.

Inside Twilfitt and Tatting's there were many wizarding families standing around, some parents waiting as their children were fitted while others were waiting with their children to be fitted.

"Maybe we should come back later when it's not as busy," Tom suggested.

She shook her head. This being the only clothing shop in the entire alley, she had a feeling that it would be just as busy when they came back.

"We have time. Unless you're particularly eager to go back to Mrs. Cole?"

Tom pulled a face at that, causing her to giggle. She knew that would work.

Slowly but surely the line moved along and eventually it came their turn to be fitted. Stepping up onto the stools, they held their arms out, allowing the seamstress witches to take their measurements. Shortly after, another boy came up and joined them on the stool to Hermione's left.

Hermione had to do a double take when she saw him. Upon first glance she could have sworn that she was standing next to none other than Draco Malfoy, but then she remembered where she was. It definitely wasn't Draco. With a bit of a better look at him, she noticed that his features were different. His face wasn't as pointed as Draco's and his eyes were bright blue rather than silver.

Though the hair was much the same. Just as perfectly well kept as the ferret. She had always hated how envious she was of that hair.

She had gotten so carried away thinking about Malfoy that she noticed too little too late that she had been caught staring at the boy. When she finally snapped out of it, she found him smirking at her with a smug little look on his face.

"My name is Abraxas, Abraxas Malfoy," he said. "And you are?"

Abraxas Malfoy… The name sounded vaguely familiar, as if she might have heard it or read it somewhere before. Judging by the fact that he was a Malfoy, she could only guess that she had heard Draco mention him. She wasn't exactly sure how the two were related though.

"I'm Hermione, and this is my friend, Tom," she greeted him, motioning to Tom on her other side.

Tom acknowledged Abraxas with no more than a brief nod of the head, to which Abraxas responded by copying the gesture. They clearly didn't care too much about each other.

What Abraxas did next was not at all what Hermione had been expecting. Reaching out, he took hold of her hand and pressed his lips gently to the top before winking at her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

She was at a loss for how to feel about this. A part of her couldn't help but blush, for though she knew he came from a long line of pureblood supremacist prats which would likely continue for at least two more generations, he was rather handsome and was certainly treating her better than his descendants ever had. Yet, at the same time a part of her felt disgusted as it registered in her brain that he was only being nice to her because he thought she was like him.

"You as well," she forced herself to smile at him, not wanting to appear impolite. Realistically, she had no reason to be impolite to him, because she wasn't meant to know anything about who he was or what his world was like. They were simply two children who had just met for the first time.

They talked little after that as they finished up with their individual fittings. She managed to wave goodbye to him before Tom grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away, reversing the roles from earlier. He didn't let go until they were well away from the shop.

"I don't like the way he looks at you," Tom muttered.

She was floored by that. Could it be that Tom Riddle was jealous? The very idea sounded so ridiculous that she almost didn't believe it. Then again, she supposed that it might not be all that ridiculous after all. He was very much human, capable of feeling different emotions, as he had proven to her in the last month or so that she had been with him. She couldn't really fault him for being protective over the only real friend he had ever had.

"Don't worry, Tom," she assured him. "You're not going to lose me that easily."

He waved off her concern, but she saw the corners of his lips tugging up. There was no use hiding from her. It was clear that he was happy to hear that.

Their next stop was undoubtedly the highlight of the trip; getting their wands. Tom had gotten the same wand she knew him to have as Lord Voldemort. It was 13½ inches long, crafted of yew wood with a phoenix feather core. That wasn't all that surprising to her.

What was surprising was the wand that had chosen her...

When she first walked into Ollivander's, she had been expecting to get her old wand back. The very wand she had used for years had been placed into her hands, but for some strange reason, it just didn't seem to connect with her like it had the first time around. She tried wand after wand after that and none of them seemed to have that spark.

Then, Ollivander finally pulled out yet another wand that she knew well. 11 inches long, crafted of holly wood with a phoenix feather core. It was also the exact same wand that would have belonged to Harry. She hadn't meant to connect with it… It just happened…

"The wand chooses the witch, Miss Granger," Ollivander had told her.

She was hesitant to take it at first, fearing that her doing so might somehow prevent Harry from being born, but relented in the end as she didn't want to raise any suspicion from Tom or Ollivander. In the end, she was grateful to have Harry's wand this time around as it would serve as a reminder of her brave old friend.

Tom was all too pleased that she had ended up with the sibling of his wand.

Before long, they had finished the rest of their shopping, checking off every last item from their list. They knew that they ought to return to the orphanage soon, lest they miss supper, but neither of them were quite ready to leave yet and so they decided to just look around for a while longer.

Hermione had to admit that it was actually quite nice having someone to experience the magic of Diagon Alley with. In the past, or rather the future, she always went with her parents, and while she loved them dearly, it just wasn't the same. They didn't understand the world of magic as she did. They found it all confusing and overwhelming. She was constantly having to explain everything to them. It was nice not having to explain everything for once.

"What's down there?"

Noticing that Tom had stopped walking, she followed his gaze to see what it was that had caught his attention.

She had to shut her mouth tightly to stop herself from gasping. They were standing right in front of the entrance to Knockturn Alley. She should have known as much. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Knockturn Alley of all places would catch his attention!

"I don't know, but it certainly doesn't look like a nice place," she said with a gulp. "I think we should get out of here."

She started to walk away but was stopped as Tom reached out to pull her back.

"Honestly, Tom, I don't think we should go in there."

"Why not? It's a part of Diagon Alley, isn't it? Why would it be here if we weren't allowed to go in?"

She had to admit that there was some logic behind that. Why did the wizarding world let Knockturn Alley exist if dark magic was against the law? Surely the ministry wasn't so blind? Perhaps it was the result of pureblood witches and wizards bribing the ministry to turn the other way? That definitely sounded like something the Malfoy's would do.

She let out a sigh. There was no use trying to fight him on this. She knew that he would find a way to sneak down there no matter what she did or said. Still, it was her job to make sure that he didn't go down the same path as before, and so it fell to her to follow him and make sure nothing happened. I suppose I can always stun him if things get out of hand, she thought.

"Alright," she gave in, "we can see what's down there."

Knockturn Alley was just as creepy as she remembered with cobwebs in every corner and old hags selling severed fingers for a galleon a piece. There were all sorts of horrible shops down there dealing with everything with everything from necromancy to poisons. Though, to be fair, there were a few shops that weren't quite so bad that dealt in everyday potion ingredients as well as cauldrons.

Then they found themselves standing before the worst shop of them all; Borgin and Burke's. This was the shop that Tom would one day work at after graduating from Hogwarts. Not on my watch, he won't, she vowed to herself. However, she knew that wouldn't be happening for years and so she allowed herself to relax a bit.

Tom was just about to open the shop door when they heard a voice call out to them. "What are you two doing down here? Surely you know that this area is off limits to all first and second years."

Stopping dead in their tracks, they turned and saw a man approaching. He looked rather like Snape with long dark hair, pale skin and dark eyes, only much more handsome and much less greasy. She wasn't sure who he was but judging by the fancy robes he wore, she had to assume that he was someone of importance.

Whoever he was, she had a bad feeling about this...

"I'm sorry, sir, but this is our first time here and we got lost," Tom explained. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't entirely true either.

The man raised a single arched brow at that. "Is that so? Well then, allow me to escort you back to safety."

Leaving the two children with no time to object, he promptly turned and started back the way he had come, motioning for them to follow. Despite the heavy robes that looked as though they would slow him down, he was actually surprisingly fast and they had to break out into a run just to catch up with him.

He led them back to the steps that led back up to Diagon Alley, where he finally came to a halt and turned back to face them.

"I do not want to see the two of you down there ever again, do I make myself clear?" he asked them.

They nodded their heads in unison.

"Good," he said with a sigh.

They started up the stairs, their legs moving as if someone was controlling them, and as she thought about it, she considered that perhaps that was indeed the case. Reaching the top step, she turned back to see if the man had his wand out or could be seen reciting an incantation, but he was already gone.

Who was that man? He had left without so much as telling them his name. What was he? He dressed like a wizard and yet there was something about him that indicated otherwise. And why did she get the feeling that he had just saved them from something horrible?

"Can we leave now?" she asked.

This time, Tom agreed without hesitance. He looked just as confused and startled as she was.