Chapter 3: Lamia
Life at Wool's was built upon the same, boring routine. Breakfast, chores, lunch, nap-time for the little ones, free-time for the older kids, supper, and then bed.
Over and over and over again.
No wonder Riddle hated this place. Among other reasons. Tom was not very well liked by anyone in the orphanage (Surprise!). Hermione noticed that she was the only person who really even acknowledged him, and he didn't seem to mind. Sometimes she would sit with him during meals, or travel to the market with him, or sit in silence and read.
He was a veracious reader. He read in the morning before breakfast, after chores, in between lunch and supper, before bed with whatever daylight there was left and, occasionally, by candle light too. Hermione wished she had that much time to read. Mrs. Cole wasn't lying about needing help. All day Hermione cleaned, watched and played with the little children, fed or bathed the babies (there were three) or helped prepare meals.
She was currently cradling a baby named Adeline who had fallen asleep in her arms as she made her way out to the small courtyard where Tom sat in his favorite spot at the base of a large tree. Hermione noted, not surprisingly, that he had a small gardener snake wrapped around his wrist. She hadn't forgotten he was a parsel mouth, she had just never seen him in action.
As she approached with the sleeping child Tom looked up, surprised at her presence.
"Hermione." He said and nodded in greeting. She smiled at him and nodded in return.
"Do you like it?" she asked, gesturing to Alice In Wonderland. He had asked her what her favorite book was, and she couldn't very well tell him it was Hogwarts: A History, so she had to settle for the classic, which she insisted he read.
"It's…not what I thought it would be." He admitted.
"What did you think it would be?" she questioned, truly curious at the answer.
"When you told me it was a fictional story about a girl who fell into a fantasy world I didn't think it would be so…"
"Dark?" she finished for him. Alice in Wonderland was no scary, dark magic book, but Hermione had a feeling that the 10-year-old Tom Riddle might find it a little fascinating, as it wasn't your typical happy-go-lucky fairy tale story.
He nodded, grinning a little. She wanted to roll her eyes. Was there even stopping this kind of evil? Was her simple plan of treating Tom Riddle with respect and like a human being a waste of time and effort? Not that she had anything else to do; all her would-be plans of getting back to her own time were theoretical, at best, and none of them had been realistic enough to make it past the 'crazy ideas' page she had going.
She did have a next step in her 'plan' though. This coming weekend she asked Mrs. Cole if she could take a day trip into the country. What she was really going to do, was take a trip into Diagon Alley. She had debated with herself, the first week at Wool's, if she should go and stay at the Leaky Cauldron; rent a room and at least be surrounded by the wizarding world. She didn't want to risk it though. What if she saw someone, or did something that changed the future, or somehow revealed herself? She'd probably be more safe and less likely to drastically change something if she limited her exposure to the wizarding world. She also didn't have the kind of funds for a long-term stay and wasn't in a position to get a paying job. She didn't even exist in this time period, so it wasn't like she could make a withdrawal from Gringotts.
Seeing no other alternative, she was planning the trip to find all the books she could on time travel and try to find her way out of this mess.
Even if she had to create her own time-turner. That was the only idea not crossed out on the 'crazy ideas' page she made…but she wasn't putting a lot of stock into it.
Adeline, now awake, babbled on her lap, bringing Hermione's mind back to the present. She had sunk down against the tree next to Tom. Adeline's little hand reached for Tom and she squawked in protest. He made no move to take the child.
"I think she wants your attention." Hermione told him. He looked at her, then down at the baby, then back at her again.
"Well, we can't all have what we want, can we?" he stated and then went right back to his book. Hermione bit her lip, trying to suppress the urge to laugh. Tom was not one who appreciated being laughed at, even if it was all for fun.
"No, I suppose you're right, Tom." She responded finally, shushing the baby, whom was now near tears. "But she is just a small child. What can it hurt to play with her?" Tom sighed and, pointedly, marked his place in the book before setting it down. Hermione smirked as she saw him rest his wrist on the ground for the snake to leave.
"Let's trade." She said, and Tom's head snapped up to meet her gaze.
"You're not afraid?" he asked, now glancing at the small snake.
"I've dealt with much, much worse. Believe me." She informed. He huffed again, and she held out a wrist upon which he let the snake wrap around. Adeline cooed in excitement when he lifted her from Hermione's lap with surprising gentleness. He settled her against his chest as he reclined, and began to read his book once more. Hermione wished she had a camera more than anything in that moment of time.
"What?" he asked annoyed, but not looking up from his book.
"Just in awe, that's all. Babies like you, Tom."
"The feeling is not mutual." He assured her in a monotone that would rival Snape's. Hermione was not surprised at his answer, but got lost in her thoughts once more and absentmindedly stroked the long spine of the small snake.
"Have you named it?" She asked Tom, referring to the snake. He didn't answer for a moment, perhaps finishing his paragraph, or debating whether to tell her or not.
"Lamia." He said finally. Hermione nodded, unsure of where the name had come from.
"What does it mean?" She questioned, fairly certain that he would not so carelessly name a creature such as a snake.
"Lamia is a half-snake, half-woman creature in Indian mythology. I read about it in a book." He told her. "It came down to that, or Nagini, which is another name for the same creature." Hermione swallowed against the sudden urge to vomit at his words. He would, one day, get his Nagini…the very 'worse' Hermione had been referring to earlier.
"Fascinating." She choked out, mouth dry. Tom gave her a curious side-eye.
"Yes." He concluded, before going back to his book. Adeline was fighting her eyelids now. Hermione glanced at the sleepy child; was it wrong of her to knowingly let a tiny, orphan baby rest on the person of the evilest entity that she had ever met? She had to remind herself that this version of Voldemort had yet to commit the same acts as his future self. An image of herself casting a familiar green curse right at the center of the young boy's chest filtered through her mind quickly. Hermione shuddered.
She could never. She would never.
A veiny, orange leaf fluttered down to her feet. Autumn was upon Wool's, and a sudden thought struck her.
"Tom, why don't you go to school?" she asked. He turned his head to her in surprise.
"School? Are you mad? You think they could possibly afford to send us all to school?" Hermione had never considered it. She bit her lip.
"I guess…but, you do pretty well for yourself anyways, with all your reading." She unknowingly delivered him one of the only compliments he had ever gotten in his entire life. His cheeks colored. That was all he had ever wanted: to be considered smart. "How did you learn to read?" she asked.
"I asked Mrs. Cole to teach me, when she had time. I didn't get the chance to learn more than the basics, and then I started visiting 'Berdet's'." He told her. Her mouth dropped but she recovered quickly with a smile and a shake of her head.
"You taught yourself how to read, Tom Riddle." She spoke aloud. "I should have known." She had, again, delivered him another compliment.
"Yes, well." He didn't know what else to say, and went back to his book but couldn't focus on the words she had just been so impressed that he could read. They sat in silence for almost another hour before Adeline woke from her nap and began to fuss. Hermione traded Tom the snake for the baby and excused herself, planning on seeing if Mrs. Cole needed additional help with supper. Tom watched her go away, and, for once since he could remember, wished that she would stay just a little while longer.
The weekend approached quickly, and Hermione was eager to escape the walls of the orphanage and head to Diagon Alley. She was equally eager to see how it was different from her own time; would the stores be similar? Some of the same? Would Olivander or his family be there? She wasn't quite sure when the wizard she'd known had taken over the wand shop. She wasn't intending to find out though; what if her wand was still somewhere in there, piled up under layers of dust and boxes?
Saturday morning Hermione sprung from bed with more energy than she'd had since arriving in 1937. She quickly made her bed, humming some nameless tune and spun to head down for breakfast. She was going to eat, help with dishes, and then she was off.
Arriving in the kitchen, she spotted Tom with a book at his usual table. She grabbed a small bowl of, you guessed it, porridge, and began to eat with gusto. Tom glanced up at her.
"Did someone put something special in that today?" he eyed the bowl. She shook her head and smiled.
"No, just excited for the day, that's all." She said. He looked suspicious.
"Big plans?"
"Visiting the country side." She told him, hoping he wouldn't look to much into it. No such luck, of course.
"The country side? You're leaving? Are you coming back? Who're you visiting?" She hadn't seen him this worked up about anything before.
"Woah, slow down, Tom." She eased the boy. "Yes the country side, yes I am coming back, hence the use of 'visiting', and just some friends." She ended vaguely. He narrowed his eyes at her sass but still had more questions, evidently.
"Friends? But you don't stay with them instead of here?" He couldn't seem to wrap his brain around it.
"No, I wouldn't burden them like that. Besides, there's no work for me there. I couldn't pay them to stay." She quickly made up. She knew he wouldn't stop questioning until he had a believable answer.
"Hmp." He said, and went back to his book, apparently done talking. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Why, going to miss me while I'm gone?" she teased. He didn't acknowledge her. "Don't worry, I'll be back Sunday night."
"Sunday night?!" he exclaimed, drawing the attention of some of the children sitting nearby. Hermione was startled by his outburst.
"Yes, Tom. I'm staying overnight." She could tell he was embarrassed by his outburst, and seemed to have surprised himself. "I'll be back before you know it, don't worry." She told him. He refused to meet her eyes and instead stared blankly at his book, once again not able to focus on the words. He was outraged at himself for not showing more restraint with his emotions. He certainly was no stranger to angry, or even violent outbursts, but he never got emotional over someone leaving. He'd never cared enough. Until now. It angered him.
"I don't care. I wouldn't even notice if you never returned." He said icily, tasting the lie as it left his lips. Hermione swallowed and leaned away from the table.
"You don't mean that, Tom." She said quietly. He glared down at his book. She sighed. "It's okay to have friends, Tom. It's okay to not have friends too, if that's what makes you happy." She paused, debating her next words. "I consider you my friend." She told him before she excused herself to go help with dishes. Her mood was significantly dampened. She knew it wouldn't be easy to try and befriend the mini-mort. She knew it might be impossible, frankly. What she wasn't prepared for, was how easy it seemed to be that he had slowly let her trickle into his everyday life. He must be mad, she reasoned, he must at least feel some sort of friendly feelings towards her, and that's why he was upset she was leaving.
For a hot second, Hermione considered bringing him to Diagon Alley with her. The thought made her pause her soapy circles on the bowl she was holding. Think logically, Hermione. She thought to herself. The boy is ten now, which means at some point after his eleventh birthday on New Years Eve, Dumbledore would stroll into the orphanage and tell him that he was a wizard. She didn't know when that day would be, but bringing him now would significantly mess up that timeline. She had a feeling Dumbledore would suspect if the boy already knew about magic.
After.
After Dumbledore came and talked to Riddle, she would take him. She would buy him every book he wanted (with reason, of course. No dark magic.) and answer the millions of questions he'd likely have. She'd have to make him swear not to tell Dumbledore about her.
With new resolve, Hermione finished her cleaning and swept back through the kitchen.
"Bye Tom, I'll be back Sunday!" She told him. He didn't look up from his book, but she knew that he had heard her. How was she supposed to know what would happen?
The day was a beautiful one; the air was crisp and the sunshine was bright. She happily made her way into London, observing with great interest the lifestyle of 1937.
Who was she to know that it would be the last time she would see it?
After almost an hour walk, she rounded a familiar corner and spotted it: The Leaky Cauldron. Muggles only saw a dingy, run down little shop. Hermione saw a familiar world that sent butterflies to her stomach. She practically skipped down the road and opened the door, entering the familiar pub. She found that it really hadn't changed much in her time. She was disappointed that the usual bar keep, Tom, was absent from this version of The Leaky Cauldron. She slipped right up to the bar and ordered a butterbeer. The witch on the other side of the bar looked a little familiar, and smiled warmly at Hermione.
"And who are you, then? I haven't seen you around, love?" The woman asked, pouring the golden liquid into a chilled glass. Hermione blushed.
"I'm just visiting, my name's Hermione." She introduced. The woman held her hand out to shake.
"Name's Ceelia Lovegood. Need anything, just holler and I'll be back." She promised with a wink, and went to tend to two gentlemen that had sat at the other end of the bar. Hermione raised her eyebrows at the Lovegood name. She could definitely see the facial features now, but she lacked the signature light hair and instead piled chestnut curls into a messy bun on top of her head. Hermione wished Luna was here so she could tell her that one of her relatives had flirted with her. She imagined Luna would be so amused.
After a relaxing butterbeer, and renting a room to return to, she left the Leaky and headed to Diagon Alley, hoping to head into the first book shop she laid eyes on. She was not disappointed, and soon came across a shop with a friendly, old witch who she suspected was blind.
She ended up spending hours in the shop, browsing for books on time-travel, and picking out a few promising ones. There were only three, but it was better than she had before, which was nothing. After making her purchase, she wandered down the street and observed the wizarding life of 1937. She was surprised that it wasn't so much different than what she had known of the wizarding world of her own time. Soon, the light was growing dim and her stomach was growling. She hadn't had a proper (delicious) meal in weeks. She wanted nothing but her favorite: The Leaky Cauldron fish and chips.
With food on her mind, she headed back to the Leaky and waved back at Ceelia, who had seen her enter and take a table.
"What can I getcha'?" Ceelia asked.
"Fish and Chips, please." Hermione answered as Ceelia, wandlessly levitated a glass of water over to her.
"Wandless! That's very impressive, Ceelia." Hermione expressed. Ceelia smiled.
"It's quite convenient, and when you've been doing this for so long, it becomes second nature. Couldn't do anything else wandlessly though, so don't be too impressed." She winked and turned to head back to the bar. "Oh! I almost forgot! Someone left this for you, not sure who it was thought. Just left it on the bar." She slipped a small package out of her back pocket and left it on Hermione's table.
It was a small, brown parcel with only her name scribbled on the front. She didn't recognize the writing. She had, however, learned her lesson the first time. Whatever was in this package, she would not be touching with her bare hands.
She gingerly picked it up, undid the top bit, and tilted it so whatever it was would fall out of the package. It was a gleaming silver pin. A Head Boy's pin to be exact. Her eye brows furrowed. She leaned down to get a closer look. Yep, it was definitely a Head Boy pin.
"What is is then?" a voice startled her. She jerked back and tried to shield the pin from Ceelia's gaze. Stupidly, her palm grazed the top of the pin.
"Bugger." She mumbled before she disappeared from Ceelia's gaze. Ceelia looked around the pub, and then back at the empty seat.
"Hmp."
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