Chapter 3: Twilight

"My sun sets to rise again."
Robert Browning

~Harry~

Harry sat still and listened to the soothing sound of the snip, snip, snip of the scissors. Her eyes looked about their room taking in the small but significant changes that have accumulated over the year. There was a thick quilt on the bed that was of higher quality than was normally seen at Wool's orphanage. On the bookshelf there was a small collection of books that was separate from the ones that needed to be returned to the library.

There on the desk was a collection of ivories from a piano, they looked relatively useless but Harry had enchanted the keys to ring out the sound that they would have if they were still a part of a grand piano. That was how Tom had learned the piano; he was getting closer to mastering it every day. In the corner was a well worn case that held her violin, bought second hand but it was of a higher quality than what she could have bought new.

Harry's eyes saw the side of the wardrobe out of the corner of her eye and knew that if she would look inside she would see a small but high quality collection of clothes. Tucked under the bed were a few sets of very nice dress shoes they took care of and shined before any scheduled party. They were becoming quite the damned pair among the middle class to the elite when it came to needing music at their little 'get togethers'.

It was very good that they were getting more jobs but they were a long way from supporting themselves using their musical talent. Harry had pried loose some floor boards under their bed to create a nice little pocket where they stashed all the money they could spare. What wasn't spent on food was very carefully budgeted. There were some things they couldn't avoid spending their hard earned money on, newer higher quality clothes was one of the more voracious eaters of their funds.

They couldn't avoid buying those clothes because they couldn't exactly show up to the parties they were booked for wearing their orphanage uniforms. The better they dressed, the more they could earn by paying at higher class parties, and so it was a vicious cycle. The main problem was that Tom grew like a weed with their more steady diet and he quickly outgrew his clothes. So that left Harry with a higher selection of clothes then Tom because she could wear what he couldn't fit in anymore.

The money they had saved was steadily growing though, and that gave them both hope that soon they would have enough to leave Wool's behind. The greatest thing about the 1930s Harry thought was also probably the worst thing which was the severe lack of care when it came to children. Children could work without anyone saying anything about it, sure they had made laws prohibiting children younger than thirteen from working but there were plenty of places hiring ten to eleven year olds.

What this meant was there was a small working force of children doing very cheap labor causing the general view of children to be 'older' younger. So if you looked carefully enough there were places that wouldn't bat an eye at renting out to children if they had enough to pay on time every month. It was their best hope of getting out of Wool's without being of age or having a guardian to sign the leases for them.

They were still a long ways off from having enough to support themselves for any long period of time though so they needed to work more to earn more. In order to work more they had to look as handsome as they could so that the elite wanted to hire them over their competitors. Tom gave Harry frequent hair cuts because her hair grew like a weed and if it was too long it got in the way of her violin playing. Tom had gotten surprisingly good at cutting her hair since he had taken over the task.

Her hair now usually fell around her ears in a willowy bob with bangs that framed her face and eyes. Tom did one last snip before he nudged her up from her chair so they could clean up the red locks from the floor. Harry pretended not to notice when Tom tied a lock of her hair together and taped it to the inside of his new pocket watch. They both had seen the need for them to get pocket watches so that they could be on time for their various bookings.

It was also the reason Harry had gotten a small notebook planner and Tom had gotten a diary. Though Tom insisted on calling his diary a 'journal' but Harry recognized the leather diary from her first life. It made her wonder if that diary from her first life had more than just Tom's time in Hogwarts. There was no use thinking about that now because he had it and there was no changing that. Once the red hair had been gathered up Tom sat in the chair and gave her the scissors.

She ran her fingers through his hair following the familiar pattern, snip, snip, snip and Harry still marveled at the trust Tom was giving her. Though she doubted Tom saw letting her cut his hair as a show of trust but Harry thought it was anyway. After all Harry had to trust that Tom wouldn't turn those sharp scissors on her and so Harry figured Tom had to do the same. Not that Harry had ever really desired to hurt anyone; no all Harry had ever desired was to be left alone to live a nice comfortably normal life.

There was probably a lot of therapy potential in that thought, given she had spent a good chuck of her first childhood living under the Dursley's thumb and the Dursleys' idolized 'normal'. Harry had begun to wonder if her desire to be 'just Harry' and perfectly average in every way had come from that mindset that had been pressed down on her. That had been a heavy thought that haunted her every time she thought about her first life as 'Harry Potter' and all her mistakes.

As she looked at Tom and remembered her first life Harry thought she could sympathize a bit of what he must be going through. Harry had grown up that first time so emotionally repressed that in all honesty she didn't really understand people's emotions very well. Oh, she had been very good at mimicking the emotions she had thought others had wanted to see…but she had never truly understood them. Harry guessed that was what happened when you punished a child for laughing, crying, or expressing any emotion at all.

When she had gotten to the wizarding world that first time Harry had been so desperate to fit in she had faked a lot of emotion doing things as she had thought they had wanted to see. The anger she had felt had been real, but she had never been great at expressing it truly. Love was also a thing she had yet to truly understand, yes, in her first life she had married Ginny Weasley but she had never really loved her. Harry had honestly only married her to be an 'official' Weasley and so he could have the family he had always wanted.

She knew that Ginny had taken to straying in their later years, after the children had grown and Harry had never blamed her. Harry couldn't give Ginny the love she had needed and so she sought it elsewhere. Harry didn't think she was a sociopath; she never really had any desire to hurt/ kill anything but at the same time she knew her disconnect from her emotions wasn't 'normal'. It was part of the reason Harry thought she was indifferent to being around Tom Riddle.

That and of course the fact that Harry always expected to die again very soon so nothing really mattered then, right? What difference could she make? As she worked her eyes caught the sight of their bed, they never did get another bed in here and Harry supposed it was for the best…the room was small enough without adding another bed. Once she was done with Tom's hair they cleaned up and got dressed to get ready for their latest job.

They both put on matching suits, black jackets, black pants, pearly white long sleeved shirts, dark green vest, matching dark green bowties, and shiny black formal shoes. They put their shined pocket watches in their jacket pockets and attached their chains to the button on their vests. Tom glanced over her and she glanced over him checking that they both looked as good as they could. Harry picked up her violin in its case and they made their way outside.

~Tom~

They made it to the party relatively unruffled and Tom saw the grand piano with some satisfaction. Harry stepped up beside him as he sat down on the bench and waited for him to be ready before they began to play. Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Wagner, Debussy, Strauss, and Stravinsky, they all wanted them to play the same things. Tom thought it was a bit boring actually; there was never any variety when it came to playing at these functions.

Tom listened to Harry play beautifully with half an ear as he listened to the various verbal battles as they took place. That was the only redeeming quality about these tedious party was listening to the battles of words as they played out before him. None of these high brow buffoons paid the two of them any attention so they heard the most interesting things about people. Tom wasn't very interested in which wife was having an affair with which husband or some such thing. However, Tom saw the use of listening to such conversations anyway.

The information, no matter how wearisomely low, could have its uses. For instances if Harry or Tom were ever in need to get out of police custody he need only to mention Lucy Hart to be passed up the chain. The Chief Superintendent was having an affair with her and his wife was ignorant of it at this time. His wife was the one with all the money and her connections with the aristocracy had given him his position. So even pointless gossip had its uses, and seemingly private conversations weren't so private.

These people always seemed to forget that they weren't alone, ignoring the two of them even as they whispered to each other near them. That was fine, one day all these people would kneel at his feet and they would know their place beneath his heel. For now, Tom listened, and he learned. He learned the fine art of misdirection, of double meanings, and veiled threats. He learned the verbal sparring that the elite loved to employ.

Harry was every day proving just how useful she was as his companion, and Tom was so satisfied he had her in his possession. Harry who looked at a broken piece of wood and seen a way out for them. Her violin sang sweetly as if in agreement to his thoughts. His fingers flew across the ivories with natural ease, his long fingers seemed to be perfect for this and he relished in the skill. Harry had taught him the basic, taught him all he needed to teach himself how to master this as easily had learned everything else.

Tom's eyes rested on the swaying figure of Harry, beautiful, and wondered in how all these fools could not see what was before their very eyes. Harry, beautiful Harry, whose dark red hair reminded him of a rose in bloom and whose face glowed with power. Tom watched her, eyes half lidded, as she swayed there on the stage next to him mesmerizing the horde with her violin. Harry let him cut her hair, and though sometimes Tom wished he had allowed her to grow it out…Tom preferred her hair short.

Harry with short hair was still just as beautiful as Harry would have been with long hair. However, with short hair no one but Tom realized Harry was more than she appeared. No one but Tom knew that beneath the shield of her clothes Harry was a girl masquerading as a boy. It made it so that Tom was the only one that possessed the true Harry. Tom had always appreciated beautiful things but he had never been attracted to a person before but he was very attracted to Harry.

It would have mattered very little to Tom had Harry truly been a boy, because boy or girl the thing that drew Tom to Harry was power. Harry practically breathed power and there was this odd ease about her that Tom found endlessly attractive. As the night wore on the jar they had for tips got fuller and fuller the more inebriated the guests became. They lost the cheapness that kept them from giving too much the more intoxicated they became simply paying hand over fist to hear their 'favorite song'.

If it wasn't so beneficial to him Tom was almost tempted to be disgusted by their blatant weakness. When they were done for the night Tom sorted out the money in the jar as Harry put her violin back in her case. Her fingers were red and swollen from the abuse of playing for so long without breaks so she was always disinclined to handle anything that she didn't have to afterwards. Tom collected their payment from the host of the party, Harry penciled in new appointments they had gotten in her planner and then they both stopped by the kitchens on their way out.

Their hosts were usually insistent on sending them off with a meal of some sort at the end of the night which was very convenient since they usually arrived too late at the orphanage for dinner. The meals provided were usually much more satisfying then the ones they had to choke down at Wool's so it was no grievance taking the 'charity'. Tom made sure the money was tucked into his pocket guarded by a cocoon of his magic against thieves.

Harry's violin case disappeared from view as they walked, hidden from sight and protected by her own magic. They usually got out of these parties very late so traveling back to the orphanage was usually a very wearing thing. This time their host provided a car for them to drop them off at the gates but there had been times when they had been forced to walk back. When they made it to their room their undressed carefully placing their suits back into the wardrobe and cleaning their shoes before they got themselves ready for bed.

Harry still slept with her pocket knife clutched in one hand but Tom didn't really care. Besides the temptation it brought to use the knife Tom disregarded its existence. He was very satisfied to note that Harry was beginning to tuck in quite comfortably into his arms as he had grown taller once more. Tom quite enjoyed that his form was slowly beginning to dominate Harry's smaller one.

~Harry~ *time skip*

It had been a little over two years since she had awoken in this body and about the same amount of time since she had come to be in Wool's orphanage with Tom Riddle. Harry sat on the bed in silent contemplation as she looked up at the sky, dreary and overcast she wondered if it would start snowing soon. Tom would be eleven in a week and Harry expected Dumbledore soon after…this left her with a bit of a problem.

If she was honest with herself Harry had expected to have been killed already and as that hadn't happened she was left with the fact that as soon as Dumbledore came here…she would have changed time. Unless Dumbledore hadn't shown her his true memory of what had transpired when he had come to inform one Tom Riddle of his position in Hogwarts. Harry didn't think that was what he had done so that left her with the fact that she was about to change history.

Harry supposed she should be a bit concerned about that but she couldn't make herself feel it without actually being worried. The truth was that the universe was not so weak that it would be destroyed by her actions that changed the past slightly. Time was a human concept anyway. She had not introduced Tom to the wizarding world because how would she explain her knowledge? There was no way Tom would let it go as easily as he did with her apparently vast skill set that she did remember.

Her eyes turned to Tom who was writing in his diary again at the desk with a fancy fountain pen she had given him for his last birthday. It was one of a set that had come in a very nice box that had his initials on it in gold leaf. The three pens were black with gold lettering that were his initials, expensive gift, but well worth it. Harry figured this would get Tom in the hang of using that tip before they went into their schooling at Hogwarts.

Tom had gifted her with a matching set of pens on January third after telling her that was the day he had decided was her birthday. Harry supposed it was sort of sweet in a weird possessive way. How would Dumbledore react to her? Harry wondered, because she certainly wasn't going to let him do as he pleased without some words in Tom's defense. There was no use wondering about it though because until it happened there was no point.

Harry wondered if Dumbledore would have a letter for her as well, since her body had been dead it was likely that her name…had it been on Hogwarts registry would have disappeared from it. That left her with the question of how old her body was, if she would be going to Hogwarts with Tom or if she would be staying here. Harry thought of Hogwarts with some longing…in all her lives since her first one she hadn't been back to that castle.

~Dumbledore~

It was cold and raining in sleeting sheets when Albus made it to London. There were a few piles of miserably brown snow in various places and Albus tugged on his velvet coat to put it back in place. The two Hogwarts letters in his pocket crinkled reminding him why he was walking with an umbrella in the middle of London as opposed to enjoying a warm cup of tea in his apartment at Hogwarts. He did so love introducing new muggle borns to the magical world it was usually quite fun.

As he stepped up to the gate of Wool's orphanage Albus couldn't helping feeling a bit sad about the sorry state it was in. His heart went out to the children that grew up in such a place and not in the loving care of relatives. He knocked on the door, and after a moment or two a girl with a scruffy apron answered it.

Albus used his best Professor smile and said, "Good afternoon. I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole, who, I believe, is the matron here?"

The girl looked at him a bit bewildered for a moment, "Oh, um…just a mo'…MRS. COLE!" the girl bellowed over her shoulder.

Albus heard a faint shouting from deeper inside the orphanage and the girl turned back to him with an uncertain smile, "Come in, she's on 'er way."

He stepped into the hallway and looked around curious to how his two new young charges lived. The hallway was tiled black and white; it was as shabby as the exterior but painfully clean. That was surprising considering Albus was certain there was quite a herd of children living at the orphanage. A skinny harassed looking older woman came scurrying from down the hall with another aproned girl hot on her heels that was carrying various bottles and things.

"…and take the iodine upstairs to Martha, Billy Stubbs has been picking his scabs and Eric Whalley's oozing all over his sheets! –chicken pox on top of everything else!" she said to Martha over her shoulder and then her eyes fell on Albus making her stop dead in her tracks as she took him in. Her look of astonishment suggested that she couldn't quite believe who had stepped over her threshold.

Albus tugged his velvet coat again hoping it hadn't gotten terribly twisted during his appration. He was quite proud of his tailored purple velvet suit, it was very muggle, and he had even resisted the urge to have little sliver moons added. The outfit was quite mild all things considered and he hoped he hadn't forgotten to take off his hat again. "Good afternoon," Albus said smiling at the stunned woman.

Mrs. Cole gaped at him and Albus shifted uncomfortably. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I sent you a letter requesting an appointment and you very kindly invited me here today."

Mrs. Cole blinked and seemed to shake herself as she said a bit feebly, "Oh, yes. Well -well then -you'd better come into my room. Yes." She nodded as if she had solved some great problem inside her head and led him into a small room that seemed part sitting room, part office. Albus noted it was as shabby as the hallway and the furniture was old and mismatched. She gestured for Albus to sit on a rickety chair and seated herself behind a very cluttered desk.

Albus shifted as he tried to get comfortable in the chair, wishing he could just transfigure it into something more comfortable but resigned himself to it. "I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Tom Riddle and Harry Vedette and make arrangements for his future." Albus said smiling hoping to put the anxious woman more at ease.

"Are you family?" she asked seemingly confused.

"No, I am a teacher," said Albus, "I have come to offer Tom and Harry a place at my school."

"What school's this, then?" Mrs. Cole asked with narrowed eyes.

"It is called Hogwarts," said Albus.

"Why are you interested in Tom and Harry?" Mrs. Cole asked as she fiddled with her hands while staring him right in the eye.

"We believe they have qualities we are looking for," Albus answered easily. It was always harder with Muggle born orphans since they weren't allowed to tell the staff about magic without breaking the statute it was considerably harder to get them to allow the children to attend.

"You mean they have won a scholarship? How can they have? They've never been entered in one," She said demandingly.

"Well, their names have been down for our school since birth—"Albus began.

"Who registered them? Their parents?" she asked demandingly.

Albus realized the Mrs. Cole was an inconveniently sharp woman and would no doubt not allow him to do as he came to…namely secure two new students. So he took out his back up, a small piece of paper that would confound her as soon as she touched it and make her more manageable. "Here," Albus said as he passed her the paper, "I think this will make everything clear."

She blinked her eyes unfocused and Albus used the opportunity to conjure up some gin. With any luck the alcohol would make the woman more willing to cooperate with him and answer some of his questions. He was very curious about the pair he would be introducing to the magical world today. It was very unique having two orphans around the same age, that weren't related, needing to be introduced to the magical world in the same orphanage.

Albus waited until she swallowed a good hearty glass of gin before he asked, "I was wondering whether you could tell me anything of Tom Riddle and Harry Vedette's history? I do believe Tom was born here in the orphanage but Harry came in later?"

"That's right," Mrs. Cole said as she helped herself to some more gin. "I remember it clear as anything because I had just started here myself. New Year's Eve and bitter cold, snowing, you know. Nasty night. And this girl, not much older than I was myself at the time, came staggering up the up the front steps. Well, she wasn't the first. We took her in, and she had her baby within the hour. And she was dead in another hour." She said unfeelingly as she took another gulp of gin.

"Did she say anything before she died?" asked Albus curious about this woman, "Anything about the boy's father, for instance?"

"Now, as it happens, she did," said Mrs. Cole, who seemed to be enjoying herself as she poured more gin and spun her story. "I remember she said to me, 'I hope he looks like his papa,' and I won't lie, she was right to hope it, because she was no beauty—and then she told me he was to be named Tom, for his father, and Marvolo, for her father—yes, I know, funny name isn't it? We wondered whether she came from a circus—and she said the boy's surname was to be Riddle. And she died soon after that without another word."

She went on talking, "Well, we named him just as she'd said, it seemed so important to the poor girl, but no Tom nor Marvolo nor any kind of Riddle ever came looking for him, nor any family at all, so he stayed in the orphanage and he's been here ever since. Harry came in about two and some years back a bobby dragged him in off the street. Poor dear hardly ever talks but he and Tom are thick as thieves." She said.

"They're funny boys," she mumbled into her drink.

"Yes," Albus said, "I thought they might be."

"I can't say about Harry since he came in later but Tom was a funny baby too. He hardly ever cried, you know. And then, when he got a little older, he was…odd." She said.

"Odd in what way?" Albus asked curious.

Mrs. Cole eyed him critically, "He's definitely got a place at your school, you say, him and Harry?"

"Definitely," Albus assured her now very curious to hear what she would reveal.

"And nothing I say can change that?" she asked seeking some confirmation.

"Nothing," Albus assured her.

"You'll be taking them away, whatever?" she said hopefully.

"Whatever," Albus said gravely.

She narrowed her eyes at him and then she said uncertainly, "He scares the other children, Tom, Harry is mostly just quietly at his side."

"You mean Tom's a bully?" asked Albus concerned.

"I think he must be," Mrs. Cole said, "but it's very hard to catch him at it. There have been incidents…nasty things…." She trailed off. "Billy Stubbs' rabbit…well…Tom said he didn't do it and I don't see how he could have done, but even so, it didn't hang itself from the rafters…did it?" she said lowly as she swallowed another mouthful of gin.

"I shouldn't think so," Albus agreed.

"But I'm jiggered if I know how he got it up there to do it. All I know is he and Billy argued the day before and then on the summer outing. We take them out, you know, once a year, to the countryside or the seaside, well Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop were never quite right afterwards, and all we ever got out of them was they'd gone into a cave with Tom Riddle. He swore they'd just gone exploring, but something happened there, I'm sure of it. And well, there have been a lot of funny things…well those things have died down since Harry has been here but…" she looked around flushed, "I don't think many people will be sorry to see the back of him. Harry might, but he is going as well so it doesn't rightly matter does it?"

"You understand, I'm sure, that we will not be keeping him permanently?" said Albus, "He will have to return here, at the very least, every summer."

"Oh, well, that's better than a whack on the nose with a rusty poker," she hiccupped, "I suppose you'd like to see 'em?" she rose.

"Very much," Albus said rising too.

Albus noted how dreary this place was as he mused over the concerning comments Mrs. Cole had made, well, if Tom was a bully he would just have to keep a firm hand during their meeting. Let him know such things wouldn't be tolerated at Hogwarts. She led him up to the third floor to the door at the very end of the hall and said, "Here we are, Tom and Harry share," she knocked on the door twice and entered.

"Tom, Harry, you've got a visitor. This is Mr. Dumberton—sorry Dumbledore. He's come to tell you both—well I'll let him do it." She said as she bustled out of the room.

Albus took in the room with some surprise. It was vastly different from what he had seen in the orphanage so far and it was a startling contrast. The room was clean and a bit bare like the rest of the orphanage but the similarities ended there. For one the sheets on the bed looked newer than the furniture, there was a well cared for musical instrument case in the corner and a small collection of books on a shelf. Both boys were also a startling contrast from the other orphans he had seen on his way to their room.

For one thing both boys were not wearing the drab gray uniform that the other orphans had; they were both dressed in matching suits that looked very nice and more importantly new. While one had vividly green eyes and starling red hair the other had very dark eyes and hair. Looking at the room and the two of them was like seeing two very odd brightly colored things on an ordinary gray wall. The contrast was staggering.

"How do you do, Tom, Harry?" Albus said walking forward to shake their hands. The one with dark hair hesitated but eventually took his hand. When he tried to shake the other red haired child's hand he merely looked at Albus blankly until he took his hand back. "I am Professor Dumbledore." Albus said as a way to begin introductions.

"I'm Tom and this is Harry," the boy with dark hair said as he gestured to himself and then to the quiet boy with red hair.

A.N.: and I gotta stop there! Lol sorry for the cliffy! I'll try getting the next chapter up quickly so you don't have to suffer it for long! So let me know what you think? Review please! To everyone who review the last chapter! Thanks! I got all fired up and finished this one so much quicker when I saw all those reviews! XD next chapter we get to see a whole new twist on the infamous meeting between Dumbledore and Tom Riddle.