An: I want to thank all of my wonderful reviewers! Y'all are gems.

I don't own any of the lyrics.

Chapter 2 Adventures in Babysitting a Psychopath

-Say nighty-night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me-

Faint music caressed her ears drawing her to full wakefulness, she almost wished it hadn't. It was so hot it was hard to breathe. With a small groan she sat up, carefully brushing away the strands of hair that clung uncomfortably to her sweaty back. She was in a small, windowless, room, laying on the only piece of furniture in the place.

The old cot groaned under her shifting before she finally stood up. Naked again, she thought crossly and looked around for something to cover herself with. To her relief there was a small pile of clothes in the corner of the room with a small piece of paper on top. It had her name on it.

Suspicion settled heavily in Hermione's stomach as she picked it up and flipped it open.

Hermione,

Had to run an errand, will be down later with your key. Clothes should fit you, best I could do for now. Don't make noise; Mrs. Cole's room is above you.

Regards,

Tom.

Her jaw clenched and she tossed the letter aside. She almost left the clothes where they were as well but she didn't want to be naked in front of Tom Riddle again. It was a simple blouse- that dipped down to almost inappropriate levels- and skirt- longer than she was used to it went right down to her ankles- but everything still fit well enough. There was even a pair of low heeled shoes that slid right on. He knows my size. The thought made her sick.

Properly clothed, she made her way back to the cot and sat down, dragging her fingers through her extremely frizzy hair as she started to do what she did best. Think.

What on earth had happened to her?

She had been with Harry… they had been at Bathilda Bagshot's house… Harry had wandered off with the woman and the next thing she knew- Nagini. She shuddered at the memory before forcing herself to focus.

I was trying to get us out alive. That is when I ended up at Hogwarts, with Tom Riddle.

But why Tom Riddle? Of all the people in the world why him?

When they had spoken last, he had said he had known her since he was five years old. But why on earth had she approached him then? Couldn't she have found someone else? Dumbledore would have been her first choice, should have been her first choice. Even Slughorn would have been better than Voldemort!

No matter how she shuffled events around her head she couldn't think of any logical reason why she would pick the future Dark Lord for anything!

Is the time traveling going to cause me to lose my mind?

It was the only explanation she could think of.

Above her the music fell silent and heavy footsteps echoed through the room. If Tom's information was accurate, she was right under Mrs. Cole's feet. The name was familiar; she frowned and racked her brains, trying to remember where she had heard of the woman before.

The orphanage! She runs Tom's orphanage!

If she remembered correctly, that meant she was in London and if the heat was any indication she would bet it was summertime.

So he is back from Hogwarts right now. He mentioned errands he had to do…

Her mind came up with a million different sinister scenarios of what 'errands' implied. That settled her mind with another dilemma. Did she leave or wait for Tom to come back?

He was familiar with her already if the note implied anything, and if he had meant her any harm he would have already done so while she was unconscious. The tension in her shoulders lessened a bit. She could trust him for now.

It didn't mean she was out of danger though, she knew what he was capable of, it just meant she had to be wary until she could figure way to get back to her own time. And away from all of this insanity… insanity that shouldn't even be happening in the first place.

Altering time should be impossible, every text on the subject she had ever read said so… everything was supposed to be static- at least large scale events. Influencing Tom Riddle (and by extension the Voldemort she knew) even a little could drastically alter the time line as she knew it.

"Why would I take that kind of risk?" She murmured just as the sound of a door opening reached her. Footsteps, light and almost hesitant, sounded up a flight of stairs to her left and she immediately collapsed back down onto the cot, shutting her eyes tightly. She felt like she was three again and trying to avoid her parents after staying up late reading.

Coward… Some part of her mind whispered. She stoically ignored it.

Whoever was coming down the stairs must have finally made it because the room was suddenly filled with silence.

"I'm not stupid, I know you are awake." The voice was high, young. She cracked open her eyes and blinked in surprise. It was Tom, but not the Tom she expected. This boy couldn't have been more than seven years old, short and scrawny with large hollow looking black eyes. His clothes were too big, his hair was messy, and the bones in his body (that she could see) jutted out at all angles.

"Don't they feed you?"

It was the only thing she could think to say as every instinct she had screamed to pull that boy into her arms and protect him. Tom shrugged and set the paper bag in his arms down next to the wall.

"I get enough."

He reached into the bag and pulled out a shiny red apple. He idly threw it at her and she scrambled to catch it.

"I know you like fruit after you travel, so I got you apples. You like apples right?"

His eyes were trained on her, black and intense.

"I do, thank you." His thoughtfulness surprised her. The boy smiled, looking very smug and pleased with himself as he pulled out an apple of his own, a green one, and bit into it with a loud crunch. Keeping half an eye on him she started in on her own apple and was pleasantly surprised by how tasty it was.

"So, you have my key?"

The boy nodded, setting his apple aside and reaching around his neck. The same silver chain with the same golden key to the vault; without hesitation he handed it over to her and returned to his fruit. She had expected much more resistance.

"The Leaky Cauldron isn't far from here, only a few blocks away. Mrs. Cole probably will not notice if you leave now… if you want to." Tom said after a moment, glancing over at Hermione.

He doesn't want me to go.

"I think I should, but I will be back later."

His posture instantly relaxed and he let out a little sigh before he glanced, almost shyly, over at her.

"Can I come with you?"

She was slightly taken aback by the question.

"I don't think-"

"But I know the area, and the people, and this time. I can help."

Well he had her there, he did know the time, she wasn't very familiar with the thirties and having a guide might just be to her benefit. But this IS Tom Riddle, and he is seven on top of it all. DO I really want to bring a child along with me?

"Please?" the boy finally said. "I won't cause trouble. I promise."

There was a slight twinge of desperation in his tone, a greedy hunger in his eyes, his fingers curling into fists and relaxing over and over again as if he were full of nervous energy. Hermione knew that look; Harry had given her that look (minus the greed) more times than she could count. He will follow me if I don't agree she thought with a sigh.

"As long as you do exactly what I tell you to."

Triumph shone in his eyes. Not joy, or happiness, or anything she might have expected from a boy his age. Just a cold triumph… it was a bit unnerving.

"Let's go then," she said with a shake of her head. The boy nodded and started off toward the stairs, moving as quiet as a church mouse as he took the steps two at a time to get to the top. She followed cautiously after, doing her best and failing to follow Tom quietly.

"You move like a dinosaur," Tom said with a frown as they made their way through the orphanage. They passed by groups of other children who all fell silent when Tom passed them and didn't make a sound until he was safely by. They are afraid of him. She realized with morbid fascination as even the older children watched him with narrowed eyes.

A hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

The boy who was holding her looked to be in his late teens, but there was something hard in his gaze that made her think of someone much older. Just as she was about to demand for him to release her he spoke, his voice scratchy and gruff.

"That kid, Riddle, I would stay away from him. He's all wet."

At her apparent confusion he sighed. "He's no good, doll. He may be a kid but he's dangerous."

Hermione frowned and carefully pulled away from him. "I can take care of myself."

The teen grinned ruefully at her, a few of his yellowed teeth were missing. "I thought so too, then one day I found myself taking a nasty tumble down the stairs." He tapped the side of his crooked nose. "Made me a site prettier if you get me."

"I will be careful."

The teen grunted and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a quick drag "That's what they all say." He muttered before glancing over her shoulder and walking quickly away.

"Hermione."

Tom, who must have noticed she wasn't following, had returned for her. He was staring at the retreating back of the teen who had grabbed her with a scowl. "What did he want?"

"It was nothing, let's just go."

Tom looked like he wanted to argue with her but he said nothing as she pushed past him and wandered blindly through the halls until she caught sight of the exit. There she paused, suddenly unsure.

"Is it ok for you to just leave like this?"

Tom shrugged and said nothing. Hermione sighed and shook her head as she stepped out into a small stone courtyard. There were more children here, some were running around, more were playing quiet games, (jacks, chalk drawings, jump rope, ect.) others were trying to find any bit of shade they could to escape the sun.

It was winter just a few hours ago. She thought with mild amazement as Tom impatiently grabbed her hand and led her out into the busy London streets. His hand was so small in hers, and again she was forcibly reminded that he was a child. He didn't hold himself like other little boys though.

He walked rather stiffly for being such a young child, his gaze was focused instead of wandering, and he moved with purpose instead of a youngsters aimless roving. It was hard to picture this serious little boy one day growing into the darkest wizard of all time. Perhaps if he wasn't so cute others might have suspected him sooner. She thought with a wry smile.

Despite the gauntness in Tom's cheeks and his scrawniness he was a pretty child. He would be very handsome one day, she knew that first hand, but right now he was pretty- like a porcelain doll. She had to hold back a laugh at the thought. It was funny how that sweet face had completely disarmed her and her anger as soon as she had met him. I can't hold a grudge against an innocent child.

He suddenly stopped and she almost toppled over him (It was strange being so much taller than him.)

"Shit."

"Language," she scolded. He didn't seem to notice and with a surprisingly strong yank turned her down another street and started pulling her as fast as he could. "Tom- Tom what's wrong!" They were both running at this point, Tom's hand holding hers so tightly his nails bit painfully into her skin.

He glanced over at her, black eyes serious, "The Paradox Chasers. They have found us."