'Mr. Riddle,

It was truly a surprise when I received your letter, though not at all unwelcome. Seeing as I am currently out of the country at the moment, I am unable to meet with you, but I am honored that you have chosen to come to me with this request.

I fear that I do not know the Gaunts as well as you might hope. They are highly secretive and not easy to find. To be honest, I don't even know if they are still alive. From what I've heard, Marvolo died a few years ago. His son, Morfin, hasn't been seen or heard from since. While I may not know his exact location, I can provide you with the address of his last known residence.

Situated on the outskirts of Little Hangleton in Lancashire, you will find a cottage that belonged to the late Marvolo Gaunt. It is a bit off the beaten path, but you should have no trouble finding it, as it is easy enough to spot.

I hope that this bit of information will serve you well and that you will find what you are looking for.

Gellert Grindelwald'

Their third school year had passed, bringing yet another summer. The Malfoys had allowed them to come home with them and spend the entire holiday with them rather than return to the Orphanage due to the increasing amount of bombings in the city. Despite her warnings, Tom had gone ahead and written to Grindelwald with his request for information about the Gaunt's.

His reply had come only yesterday, and Tom insisted on going to find this cottage as soon as he could, begging Hermione to come with him. Of course, she wasn't about to let him go out there on his own.

The very next morning, Mr. Malfoy, who just so happened to own a state of the art muggle car, drove them out to Little Hangleton himself. It was a three-four hour drive from Wiltshire to Lancashire, and Hermione found that it passed by painstakingly slow.

They arrived in the quaint little village fairly early in the evening. Mr. Malfoy dropped them off at the very edge of the forest, promising to wait for them as he lit up a cigar.

What they found was not at all what they expected...

Grindelwald surely wasn't kidding when he said it was easy to spot. The so-called cottage that stood before them was hardly more than a run down shack, which appeared as if it had been long abandoned. The grass around it was unkempt and almost level with the windows, which were boarded up with old cracked planks. The thatched roof had many holes in it and the door looked as though it was ready to fall off its hinges at any moment.

"Is… Is this really the place?" Hermione asked.

Tom said nothing. He just stared at the shack, particularly at the dead snake that was nailed to the door, in horror. For someone like him, who valued snakes as close companions, it must have been like a nightmare.

A feeling of dread washed over her as she tried to prepare for what was to come. From what she had heard, Morfin Gaunt was not a pleasant sort of man and she was not looking forward to meeting him, but she knew that it had to happen. Tom needed to know the truth about his family. That much was inevitable.

"Do you really think that someone lives inside?"

"There's only one way to find out…"

Reluctantly they made their way up to the door, struggling through the tall grass to reach it. Hanging on the door, just underneath that of the dead snake, was an old rusted door knocker. Picking it up, Hermione banged it a couple times.

Minutes passed and no sounds were heard. Tom turned to leave, but Hermione persisted in banging the knocker again. She knew for a fact that Morfin was inside. Either he hadn't heard them the first time or he was simply choosing to ignore them. Whatever the case, she was determined to see this through.

Then they heard something.

CREAK… CREAK… CREAK...

The sound of floorboards creaking alerted them that someone inside was approaching. A moment later, the door flew open, missing their faces by only a few inches.

On the other side stood a man who could only be Morfin Gaunt.

He was heavily deformed, no doubt the result of generation after generation of inbreeding. His nearly translucent skin practically hung from his skeletal frame. His thick dirty hair looked as though he had tried to cut it himself with a pair of garden shears, and there were bits and pieces of what looked like food tangled within. And his eyes… two tiny black orbs that starred off in different directions. He was a right fright to say the least.

"Ess sssiithh ssssseissss ssaaysss!" Morfin hissed as he pressed the end of his wand to Tom's throat. "Sssss hisssssss ssesssss lissss."

Hermione tensed as she reached for her own wand and aimed it at him, ready to fight him off should she need to. She couldn't understand a word he was saying, as he appeared to be speaking in Parseltongue.

However, Tom, who could also speak Parseltongue, seemed to understand him perfectly fine.

Tom just stood there, frozen in place. "Wait, you know me?"

Drawing his wand back, Morfin pulled his hair out of his eyes to get a better look at Tom. His sunken eyes widened as he slowly lowered his wand and stumbled backward a couple steps, nearly tripping over his own baggy pant leg.

"Siisss eessss ssssss?!"

"My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle," he replied. "Are you Morfin Gaunt?"

She wasn't exactly sure what was going on with their conversation, but judging by the glint of recognition in his face combined with the fact that his face morphed with anger, she could only guess that Morfin had just figured out who Tom was.

Raising his fists into the air, Morfin went off into a heavy hissing fit. Whatever it was he said, it had left Tom horrified. At one point during his rant, Morfin broke off and staggered past them to the untamed hedge that surrounded the property. Waving them over, he pointed up to a manor sitting atop of a hill on the other side of the valley.

Even without understanding what he was saying, Hermione knew what it was… It was Riddle Manor...

Morfin hissed some more before promptly turning and staggering back to the shack, slamming the door behind him.

Her and Tom were left standing out by the hedge, silence hanging heavily over them as they each tried to process everything.

"What did he say to you?" Hermione asked after a while. "I couldn't understand a word of it."

Tom turned to her with a grave look on his face. His fists were clenched and there was bitterness in his eyes. It couldn't be good.

"He told me about my parents… My father is still alive and he lives in that house up there. He's a filthy muggle who abandoned my mother when he found out she was a witch!"

He was fuming mad.

"Tom, I know it sounds bad, but maybe there's more to-"

She hadn't even finished her sentence before Tom broke out into a run in the direction of the Riddle Manor.

Knowing full well what he was setting out to do, Hermione chased after him, running as fast as her legs could take her. She wasn't the worst runner, but she certainly wasn't the best either, and with Tom's long legs giving him an advantage, it was hard for her to catch up.

Tom had just reached the other side of the valley when he cast a disillusionment charm on himself, disappearing from view.

With a sigh, Hermione cast a disillusionment charm on herself as well before continuing after him. She may not be able to see him, but she knew where he was heading.

She managed to slip into the manor through the back door, presumably the servants entrance, and had just reached the stairs to the second floor when she heard a scream coming from above.

At that, she picked up speed, taking the steps two at a time as she raced to find them in time. She prayed that she wouldn't be too late… That she would get to Tom before he killed them all… The fact that she hadn't heard any explosions or seen a blinding flash of green light reassured her, driving her ever onward.

At the top of the stairs was a crossroad of corridors, forcing her to choose which one she would choose. Time was of the essence and should she choose wrong, it might just well mean the death of three innocent muggles. She stopped and listened for a second, hoping to hear something, anything that might point her in the right direction. Sadly, the manor was silent, save for the creaking of the floorboards beneath her feet.

Not wishing to waste any more time, she chose to go left, breaking into a run once more.

As she got further and further down the corridor, she started to hear voices in the distance. She could barely make out what they were saying or even who were the ones speaking, only that they sounded less than pleased.

The sounds led her to the very farthest room, to which the door was flung wide open. Bringing herself to a screeching halt, she hid around the corner of the doorway and peeked around the corner to see what was going on.

Inside stood Tom, with his hand outstretched towards that of a man in his mid to late thirties who could have well enough been Tom's doppelganger. This had to be Tom's father, Tom Riddle Sr. And behind his father were a much older yet still pleasant looking couple, presumably Tom's grandparents.

"Your mother was nothing but a tramp! To hear that she's dead fills me with relief. She deserved every ounce of pain and misery that she experienced."

Tom clenched his fists. "How dare you speak of my mother like that!"

Raising his wand, he looked as though he was preparing to cast a spell, and Hermione could only guess which spell that was.

With that, she chose to make herself known and, lifting the disillusionment from herself, charged into the room.

"Stop!"

At the sound of her voice, every head turned to look at her. The older Riddles were no doubt wondering who on earth she was, but she didn't pay much attention to them for the moment. Her focus was solely on the young man whose wand was still raised and ready to fire.

"Don't do this, Tom," she begged. "Lower your wand and listen to me… Please…"

Tom spared another glance back at his father before looking back at Hermione. After a few moments, he relented and lowered his wand, though he didn't make any effort to put it away.

"Look, I don't know what your uncle told you, but I wouldn't be too quick to trust what he said. Morfin Gaunt is something of a mad man, his mind and body damaged by centuries of inbreeding. He doesn't even speak any English!"

His eyes widened, as did everyone else's.

"Inbreeding?" asked Tom's Grandmother

"Is that why they were always so strange?" asked Tom's Grandfather.

Hermione nodded her head.

"Didn't you notice it Tom? In the Gaunt Family Tree you showed me? Your ancestors married primarily within their own family. Marvolo Gaunt's wife was his sister, and I can only assume that your mother, Merope, would have ended up marrying your Uncle Morfin had it not been for your father."

A part of her had always felt a bit sorry for Merope. What she did to Tom's father was not right, and she was very much against the idea of using a love potion to enslave someone, but that didn't erase the fact that she herself had been abused and enslaved by her own family.

"That doesn't change the fact that he abandoned my mother… that he abandoned me!" Tom insisted.

"No, it doesn't, but there might be a justifiable reason behind it!" she retorted. "Did your Uncle Morfin even know either of your parents' sides of the story, or was he just telling you his own interpretation of it?"

It was a long time before anyone spoke again, as everyone seemed to be deep in thought. Tom in particular seemed to be mulling things over all that she had said. Hermione was hopeful. Her words seemed to reach him. The Riddle Family had already lived longer than they should have. It was going well, or rather as well as it could go.

"Well, seeing as we're all here, why don't we all sit down and have a nice cup of tea while we try to straighten everything out?" Tom's grandmother suggested.

It seemed odd that the older woman would be so kind to them, acting as if she was delighted to meet them, when they had just broken into their home and tried to kill her and her family in Tom's case. Still, she wasn't about to refuse the offer. In fact, a cup of tea might be just what everyone needed to calm down and talk like civilized human beings.

"That sounds lovely," Hermione agreed.

Both Tom Sr. and Tom Jr. didn't seem too thrilled by the idea, but they didn't have much of a choice as the two women all but pulled them to the settee, making them to sit directly across from one another.

While Mrs. Riddle poured the tea, Mr. Riddle grabbed himself a glass of brandy from the bar, mumbling something about how he was going to need it to get through the rest of the evening. Tom Sr. glared at amber liquid, as if he wanted a glass as well. Hermione couldn't say that she entirely blamed them. This wasn't exactly the most pleasant meeting.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," said Mrs. Riddle. "I'm Mary and this is my husband, Thomas. Of course, you already know our son's name, seeing as you were named after him."

Tom nodded his head stiffly.

"At least the witch had enough decency to give him a good upstanding name. Heaven forbid she should name him after someone in her own family," Thomas remarked.

"My middle name is Marvolo."

"Swell…" Mr. Riddle rolled his eyes as he took a big long swig of brandy.

Hermione shook her head in disapproval. It was clear to see that none of the Riddle men liked each other, mostly because of the one trait that they each seemed to share: excessive pride.

Sensing the growing hostility amongst the men, Mary shifted the topic away from Tom and towards Hermione. "Pardon me, but I don't believe I caught your name, miss."

"My name is Hermione Granger," she introduced herself, extending her hand to the older woman. "I'm a friend of Tom's."

"I take it you're a witch as well?" Tom Sr. asked.

She nodded her head. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Tom Sr. replied, his voice laced with bitterness. "Considering how the last one I met drugged me with some sort of love potion!"

And there it was… The truth was out…

Years had passed since the incident and still it seemed that Tom Sr. had yet to forget about it. Seeing as he didn't seem to have remarried or had additional children of his own, she could only assume that Merope had scarred him for life. In a way, she felt sorry for him and for all that he had to go through. Of course, he wasn't exactly the nicest about it either.

The more she thought about it, the more she wondered why the whole ordeal hadn't been better dealt with. Surely there were people within the Ministry who knew what had happened? Dumbledore knew the story. Why didn't they come to erase his memory like they did in other muggle related cases? Why was Amortentia even legal to be brewed and sold?

Leaping from his seat, Tom Sr. stood towering over his son, raging on about everything that Merope had done to him, how he had spent months imprisoned within his own mind, believing that he loved her yet unable to understand why.

"And then, one day I wake up to find myself in bed with a woman I barely know and have absolutely no feelings for whatsoever! Oh, she begged me to stay with her, using every thing she could think of to trick me into staying with her," he ranted. "I didn't even believe her when she told me that she was pregnant! I just assumed it was another one of her tricks! How was I supposed to know that she was actually telling the truth that time?!"

No one dared to speak after that, as everyone was far too shocked by the outburst to even think of speaking. However, the most shocked out of all was Tom himself. He just stared up at his father with wide blue eyes. For once, there was no anger or resentment in them. There was only shock...

After a while, Mary got up and tugged her son back down to the settee. He slumped back into the cushions, looking absolutely exhausted, as if his rage had drained him of all energy.

Then Tom stood, his face unreadable, and reached into his pocket. At first she thought he was going for his wand again and was about to reach out to stop him, but he didn't. Instead, he pulled out a tarnished mouth organ… the same mouth organ that he had shown her years ago at the Orphanage… the same mouth organ that had supposedly once belonged to his father.

"You can have this back," he said, holding it out towards father.

Hermione watched closely as a look of recognition overtook Tom Sr.'s face. With a trembling hand, he reached out and took the mouth organ, his eyes never leaving it's tarnished silver surface. It was almost as if a priceless family heirloom had been returned to him. Who knows, maybe that was the case.

Either way, Tom didn't stick around to find out…

"I'll get out of your house now and trouble you no further. You can just pretend that I don't exist if you want… I don't care…"

And with that, he turned and fled from the room.

"Tom, wait!"

Setting her tea cup down on the coffee table beside her, she got up and started after him. However, she hadn't gotten very far before she realized that he must have disillusioned himself again because he was nowhere to be found.

Coming to a halt in front of the staircase, she tried to think of where he might have gone. Surely he wouldn't go back to his uncle. Morfin hadn't exactly given him a warm welcome. None of his family had. She supposed that the first place to check would be the car, and if he wasn't there… well, she wasn't sure…

She had just started down the stairs when she heard Mrs. Riddle call out to her.

"Miss Granger, I'm terribly sorry for my son's outburst, but I'm sure that he'll come to his senses with a bit of time," Mary insisted. "Would it be possible to get an address or a telephone number? Despite everything that has happened, I would very much like to get to know my grandson."

Hermione managed to give the older woman something of a smile. Even if Tom's father wanted nothing to do with Tom, it would be good for him to have at least one relative who genuinely cares about him.

Conjuring a pencil and paper, she quickly scribbled down the address and handed it to her. "I'm so sorry for barging in as we did and thank you for the tea, but I really must be going. I need to find Tom before he does something he might regret."

Mrs. Riddle nodded her head in understanding.

And without further delay, Hermione took off into the night to find Tom.