Chapter 10 Biscuit's Boy

Hermione was awake.

It was an odd feeling to have been so deeply asleep one moment and then to be suddenly and completely awake the next. Perhaps it was because her sleep had been an enchanted one. She didn't even feel tired. She contemplated the oddness of her situation for a few minutes more before she slowly sat up. She was on a bed, she noted. One she was acquainted with.

It was the London flat she and little Tom had occupied. He had stayed.

She peered around. Where before the room had looked more like a guest room, this place was obviously lived in. The wardrobe at the end of her bed was slightly open and she saw more than one robe inside, they were obviously too big for her. On the desk to her left was a small pile of parchment, she stood and moved over to inspect them better.

Across the surface of the desk were pages and pages of research on some kind of amulet. A few letters written that looked to be in a woman's hand if she wasn't mistaken, and another letter that she was positive that came from Hogwarts.

Hermione couldn't resist the urge to look.

Dear Mr. Riddle,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to serve as Prefect for Slytherin House. Your school record shows that you have exhibited quick-thinking in stressful situations, the ability to lead others, and the cunning Slytherins have long been lauded for.

We are certain that you will continue to be a model for your peers and will take your new responsibilities seriously. Enclosed please find your Prefects Badge, which should be worn on your school robes at all times. Congratulations!

Sincerely,
Horace Slughorn
Head of Slytherin House

Ps: Well done my boy, very well done indeed.

Hermione wasn't surprised Tom had been made a prefect, what she WAS surprised by was the implication of Tom's age. He was, at the very least fifteen years old. He looks so much older. She thought slightly dumbfounded. If she had, had to guess his age before she saw the letter she would have said he was seventeen or eighteen. It was his height, the way he carried himself. Hermione told herself as her cheeks heated when she remembered their interaction that… morning? What time was it? Hermione looked out a nearby window. It looked to be late afternoon.

"Miss is looking through Tommy's things?"

Hermione jumped in surprise at the sound of the voice behind her. She turned to face the speaker and relaxed when she saw a familiar face.

"Biscuit! Oh look at you, you are so much older!"

And she was. There were more wrinkles in her skin and her ears drooped a little more than they had before, but beyond that the elf looked none the worse for wear. Biscuit raised herself up proudly.

"Indeed, I am. Tommy hasn't managed to off me yet."

"I was worried about that to be honest, but you seem to be doing well."

"Yes miss, I have a husband and a little one of my own now. Crumpet listens better than bad Tommy ever did."

"Crumpet?"

"He is my son miss, he is three this year. Although I consider him my second, bad Tommy feels like my first."

Biscuit considers Tom her son? Well it made sense; she had sent Tom back to the flat alone with no one… except for Biscuit.

"I am so sorry, Biscuit I didn't even consider you would have to look after him."

"I won't say it wasn't trouble miss, but I liked Tommy's company. It was lonely in the house all alone before he came."

"Speaking of Tom, do you know where he is?"

"Tommy is at work, he will be back in a few hours though. He stays later then I would like and sometimes I have to drag him home."

"He has a job?"

"Yes, miss! I am very proud of him!" Her ears perked for a minute. "But we can talk more over tea, I just put a pot on and it's ready."

As they wandered back through the flat, Hermione took the time to observe the changes that the years had brought to the place. The furniture and many of the knickknacks were still the same, but there were more books on the bookshelves then there had been before, and on the mantle above the fireplace were pictures. In one was the Tom she had seen not even a few hours ago. He was rolling his eyes at the camera and leaning against the door to the flat. There was a trunk at his side. It must have been taken just before he went to the train. Another picture next to it showed a taller Tom. He was standing next to a blond haired boy she assumed was a Malfoy and a girl with black as night eyes and hair, a crooked nose, and a vague smile.

She looked familiar but Hermione couldn't put her finger on here she had seen her before. There was yet another picture next to that one. This one had a whole group of boys. Each had a different crest on their robe. They all looked bored. Golden lettering was under them:

Slug Club 1941

They must have taken this before the end of last school year. Hermione thought.

"Tommy doesn't like his pictures, but I get them and put them up anyway." Biscuit said proudly when she noticed Hermione looking. "He used to try and tear them up, but I put a stop to it. But come, before the tea gets cold."

There is something odd about Biscuit. Hermione thought as the elf led her into the kitchen. A small round table had been set up with a white lace tablecloth draped over it. A fresh bouquet of flowers stood in the middle of the table. Biscuit snapped her fingers and teacups and saucers flew out from the cabinets and settled themselves down onto the table. "Would you like any honey?" Biscuit asked.

"If you don't mind…" she said with a frown. What is different about Biscuit?

"Is something bothering Miss?"

It hit Hermione like a bolt of lightning. "Your accent!"

"My accent?"

"Yes, you speak properly now- not that you didn't speak well before but- you are grammatically correct."

The elf smiled. "Tommy taught me. He told me I would have to know how to speak and write properly."

"Why?" Hermione asked as the elf took a steaming kettle off of the stove and carried it over to the table.

"So I could send him letters at school. I look on him as my own child Miss, but he wouldn't have liked it if I kept popping to Hogwarts to check on him. The other House Elves wouldn't like it either. So every once and a while I send Tommy letters and snacks from home, he loves my gingersnaps." Biscuit settled down on the chair next to Hermione. "Besides that it is good to give young boys some freedom. Human boys and house elf boys are not so different that way, it just takes humans longer to mature is all."

It had to be the most bizarre thing she had ever heard. "Does he write you back?"

"Oh yes Miss, I insist on it, or else I DO go down to the school." The elf wrung her hands. "I also write to his teachers when I need Miss. I sign his permission slips when he brings them, the magic takes me for his guardian. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, actually I didn't even consider the fact that he would be without someone looking after him. Thank you for doing it for all this time."

The elf's cheeks reddened. "You give me much credit, you did think of some things. You set up Tommy's allowance, and gave me access to our vault to pay for all our needs."

"I suppose I will. Next time I am in the past I will get everything set up."

"I don't doubt that. But Miss should drink her tea before it gets cold."

Without another word Hermione reached for her tea and took a delicate sip. It was still hot and she relished the feeling of the heat moving down her throat and into her belly.

"You said Tom was working." She finally said when her cup was half empty. "Isn't he a bit young?"

"Tommy has special permission because he is so advanced. He works with Mr. Bertie at the museum most nights in the summer and on the weekends when he is at school… he might be working there full time if the governors didn't reject his application for early graduation."

"COULD he graduate early? That is a lot of material he would have to know."

The elf sighed. "Tommy could do it. He has read all the books, and there isn't a spell he can't cast. But…" the elf trailed off. "Tommy isn't a pureblood."

A spark of rage made her straighten her back. "If he has the aptitude then I don't see what the problem is."

Biscuit shook her head tiredly. "Pureblood wizards do not like it when a muggleborn boy outshines their own sons. They give thousands of reasons why not to let Tommy through. He had to fight so hard to keep his job at the museum Miss. They call him selfish to ask for more."

"But he is a Slytherin! They are supposed to be ambitious!"

"You will hear no arguments form me, Miss."

"Something has to change."

"I agree."

Hermione jumped at the sound of Tom's voice. He stood in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame.

"How long have you been there?" She asked as he slowly walked into the room.

"Long enough to hear you defend me, it almost makes you causing me to be late to work worth it."

She gaped at him. "I made you late to work?"

"Yes, after you passed out under the effects of a simple calming charm I had to take you all the way back here before heading to the museum."

"You were the one who cast the spell on me!"

"I didn't expect it to have such a great effect. You should have told me how weak you were."

Hermione jumped to her feet. "I am not weak!"

Tom seemed surprised by her outburst. "So you don't know yet I assume?"

"Know what?"

"That when you travel it all but drains your magical core."

A chill worked its way down her spine. But it had nothing to do with her traveling. Tom seemed to notice her sudden fright. "Biscuit could you get Hermione more tea?" The elf nodded and with a snap of her fingers the kettle was pouring a generous helping of steaming hot tea into her cup. "Drink and try to calm down, remember stress can cause you to travel early and you are in to shape magically to do so."

Hermione accepted the cup he passed to her and she took deep gulps of the steaming liquid. "Tom if my core drains completely I could lose my magic… or even die."

"Yes, that is one of the reasons wizards haven't tested time travel more intently. It takes a lot of magic to jump back even an hour, and you jump years on your own."

Hermione was a powerful witch in her own right, she knew it, she was proud of her power. But as she did the mental calculations she grew more and more alarmed by the sheer amount of magic needed to travel as she had. What I do is impossible.

"I should be dead three times over by that logic."

"But you are not." He walked till he was next to her, his black eyes gleaming as he examined her face. "I have one working theory, but as of now it is only a theory. The way I see it is that, unlike what the text books say, your magical core is more like a muscle than a fixed thing." Tom said with a gesture. A spoon floated over to his hand and hovered above it. "At first all you can do is little things. Then after you do it a few times, your magic adjusts to the strain and grows stronger and soon…" another spoon floated up to hover next to the first one. "You can do more and so on and so forth until-"

The whole table lifted up including the cups the flowers… even the chair she was sitting on.

"Tommy put Miss Hermione down." Biscuit scolded.

Tom smirked and with a flick of his fingers everything fell down with a crash, including Hermione.

"What was that really necessary?" Hermione hissed through her teeth.

"No, but it did bring me mild entertainment."

"Has anyone told you that you are an ass?"

"Only you."

"Good, someone should know the truth. Tom Riddle is an ass."

"You should be nicer to the man who can solve your problem."

Hermione groaned. "Which one?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial filled with a blue liquid. "This will help your magical core recharge a bit faster." She took it from him and held it, but she didn't drink it. If Tom was bothered by her obvious distrust he didn't show it, instead he continued speaking "-and tomorrow I have permission from Bertie to let you look through our collection of rare magical tomes. One of which I happen to know is about time travel."

"And they are going to let me read it?"

"Well they are going to let you look at it."

Hermione frowned in confusion.

"Let me explain, the book is written entirely in parseltongue, and no one knows what it says except me."