Chapter Twenty-seven:
That Which September Brings

The yellow light of scattered street lamps bathed the path before us as we walked along the road. Dawn still lay just below the horizon, which was fortunate, for we made a strange sight to behold at such an hour. Since we had not yet reached the Park, we were burdened by our trunks and possessions–cumbersome, for magic had not touched them. In the duration of our short journey, Tom did not speak to me, and I wondered if he had come to resent me somehow. After all, it was I who had dissuaded him from using magic. Though I reasoned with myself that I had been correct in doing so, I thought perhaps denying him such power had angered him. I soon realized I need not have worried, however. Perhaps, I mused, it was simply that he had come to regret listening.

When we came to the entrance of the Park, I stopped, Tom passing through into the trees so that I could no longer see him if I had looked. However, my eyes were trained upon the large wooden sign that arched above our path; never before had I noticed it, and in the growing light, the peeling letters were just visible. Quercus, it read. I smiled a small, sentimental smile, knowing that never again would I walk through this Park with Tom as we enjoyed one another's company. It was strange to realize that I would come to miss a routine connected to something which I despised.

Yet however odd it was, still I was leaving behind a place I had briefly called home. It was as if a piece of me was to be lost, and after my sentiment had passed, I felt free.

Suddenly, I felt an impatient tug upon my hand. "What are you doing, Danielle?" Any morning other than this, I knew, he would have been amused. "We have not the time to admire a filthy sign. Come, before we are swarmed by muggles."

I sighed. "For just one moment, Tom, stop and look at things around you."

I thought I saw the hint of a sneer twisting upon his handsome face, though all traces of whatever it had been soon vanished. "No, Danielle. Not here in the place which I am eager to abandon forever." He furrowed his brow as though he felt he could not make me understand.

Yet I did understand, and I told him so. He looked upon me with relief for a brief moment, and then we entered the Park, the trees and our former lives coming to a close behind us.

-

We Apparated to a remote end of King's Cross Station, from which our platform could not easily be seen. This time, it was Tom who insisted that we must walk, though I could not more have agreed. After all, the station had begun to filter in a large assortment of people–magic and non-magic alike–which would soon become an enormous, bustling throng. And even so, time still remained before our presence was required upon the Hogwarts Express. A half, if not three-quarters of an hour could be spent as leisurely as we pleased, though I knew Tom would wish to board as quickly as we could.

After locating a pair of trolleys and placing our belongings upon them, we quickly progressed to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. As was expected, it was empty save for the man who stood watch just beside the barrier–which we quickly passed through.

Once on the other side, we had entered a magical realm, a sight of beauty after our confinement in the orphanage. The familiar scarlet steam engine gleamed proudly in the full sun, the light dancing upon its surface and reflecting onto the ground. Tom had always regarded this in disdain, for he felt that the school favored his opposing House far too obviously. Yet this year, it was an image welcome to us both.

Already, a small handful of students had arrived, sullen- and somber-faced at being present so early before departure. Even Tom's face seemed grimly set, and my own, I realized, was without much expression as well. Thoughtfully, I glanced around us, and with a start, noticed a similarity between the students which milled about the platform.. They were alone; their families had long-since left or had never arrived to begin with. Like us, they were, though I did not mention it aloud to Tom. His eyes had narrowed as though he distrusted the mere presence of our lonely peers and his stride lengthened as we approached the train.

The machine before us was a scarlet portal to another world, and I savored this fact as I placed my foot upon the first step which led to it. Yet before I could progress any further, my path was blocked by the tiny frame of a girl, far too young to be of schooling age. Her eyes were round, magnified slightly by a pair of thinly-framed spectacles. Her hair had been pulled into a knob at the furthermost point of her head, dull coils escaping it and swinging freely against the line of her jaw. She fixed her stare upon me, and it caused me to become uneasy.

"The Riddle girl," she murmured softly, and held my nervous eyes in her own. I was oblivious to the looks which I received from Tom from behind her, for he had walked ahead of me, boarding before the child had had the chance to cross his path.

After a moment, I could nearly hear Tom's frown as he firmly pressured her shoulder. "Move, girl," he snapped, and she staggered forward. She never glanced over her shoulder to see who it had been that had touched her; indeed, she did not blink and her stare bored into my back as I clambered onto the train. Suddenly, I felt weary, and when my gaze slipped to the ground, it remained there until the castle we reached.

-

Albus looks thoughtful, as he always seems to be each time he finds need to interrupt my tale. In this silence, I wonder if it is even a tale that I am telling, for tales begin with troubled times and end with princes and blissful happiness. Perhaps this is a memoir, whose closing is permitted to contain sorrow–and undeniably will.

"Ms. Riddle... Did the identity of this girl ever become known to you?" he asks slowly as if he is carefully choosing his words while he pieces together a puzzle.

I shake my head softly. "Her name I do not know, but I have reason to believe she is a relation to a member of your staff."

He nods, his yes clouding with a look that is seeing in a place far away. "Of course."

Even now, the appearance of this child brings a mixture of feeling to me, the same uneasiness I felt so long ago surfacing above all else. Perhaps it would not be so if I knew not of the Seer blood which runs through her veins, strengthening her inner-eye and piercing into mine.

-

It was a lonely affair, the feast which began each year, for it had become an unspoken rule at the Ravenclaw table that I was to dine alone. No matter the number of students there were, there seemed always room to leave a small gap between the closest of my House-mates and I. This year, I expected treatment no different, and that was nigh precisely what I received. For this year, I was Head Girl, and the badge pinned upon me commanded a certain amount of respect from my peers. Proud, they seemed to be, that a Ravenclaw held such an esteemed position, and thus for the first time, the gap was closed. Little did they speak to me, yet it mattered not. By a twisted yet welcomed default, I belonged, and would belong for the remainder of the year.

I turned my attention to the front of the Great Hall when Professor Dumbledore appeared with a three-legged stool and an ancient hat which I knew well. As it was the final year in which I would hear the song of the Sorting Hat, I focused upon it more thoroughly than I had in the past. Always, I had taken pleasure in listening to the rhymes which it created, solving its cryptic riddles and pondering its advice. I wondered, at times, if I was the sole person doing so, save for the frightened group of first years whom I knew would only half listen to the words. Yet when the rip just above its brim opened and it began to sing, it captured the attention of the school in its entirety:

"Time grows weary on dusty shelves
When in silence one sits long
But it is as if I must rush
To compose my yearly song.
So listen well with eager ears
As I relay these warnings
Of times ahead which may seem bleak
Like clouds on days of mourning.
To Gryffindors, so bold and brave,
Beware impulsive actions
Trust your hearts at moments right and
Quiet gloating satisfaction.
To Hufflepuffs, so kind and true,
Your hearts are laden with gold
So seek not ways to be betrayed
When suspicion can unfold.
Yet to Ravenclaws, the wisest,
Take lightly not my cautions
What thought you to be set in stone
Has also other options.
Consider other roads to take
As you begin your journey
Lest life itself takes drastic turns
And your world falls topsey-turvey.
And lastly, sly Slytherins,
Deceive not those close to you
Beware your lust for power's touch
Protect what's precious, old and new.
Yet fear this not, for sharp young wit
Will save each House when it is time
Remember, clouds which loom above
Can sometimes still be silver-lined."

The moment the hat fell silent, the Great Hall erupted in whispers, befuddled and nervous. I glanced at the Slytherin table, searching for Tom. When I found him, he looked up, and our eyes briefly locked. Though we never discussed it between us, even after we had exited the room, we both knew somehow that the song had indirectly been meant for us.