a gloomy old place
.
.
Hermione's new room was a pretty small one. There were two beds, hers being the one on the right, and, by both sides of the door, there were a small wardrobe where the occupants could store their belongings. The place wasn't pretty though; it had the gloomy appearance that seemed to be everywhere in the orphanage, but its yellowish walls were partially covered with brown tiles that were spotlessly clean, just like the stone floor. The girl tried to imagine how cold the place would be during winter because, even if they were in the middle of summer, the room's atmosphere was able to make her feel chilly.
If the room was not far away from what she expected, her roommate was. Anna Parker was a tall seventeen year old with long red hair which she wore in two long braids, blue eyes, a long nose and a freckled face. The girl was extremely talkative and, as soon as Hermione first stepped into her room, she didn't stop talking, telling her new roommate about how the orphanage worked, the members of the staff, the orphans who were worth knowing and, above everything, her hobbies... Anna had an immense love for cinema. She had tons of old magazines with photographs of her favorite movie stars and kept talking about them for a long time.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I keep babbling about all this stuff." She pointed at the magazines on her bed. "And I forgot to finish telling you about the orphanage. Oh, well. Dinner is served at 7 P.M and the curfew is 10 P.M... Mrs. Cole or another member from the staff will pass by the rooms, checking if everyone is asleep around 10:15, so be sure to be in bed that time, but, after that, you can get up, as long as you stay quiet. I usually do that." She shrugged. "The staff... You met Martha and Dr. Mazarovsky. Then we have Susan, Jonathan and Amelia, But you'll definitely see more of Martha, Susan and Mrs. Cole."
"I'm sorry to interrupt but..." whispered Hermione. "Martha and the doctor, are they married?"
"Oh, yes!" Anna smiled widely. "They married about three years ago, if I'm not wrong. Aren't they sweet together?"
"And he is not... Not British, right?" asked the witch. "I mean, his accent is foreign."
"No, he's not. He's Russian but he's been living here for quite some time now." Parker shrugged. "Don't pay attention to what some people say about him. There are a few idiots in here that try to scare children and use him as the scary figure... You know, the whole 'he's Russian, he's a barbarian, he's a communist and he'll eat you alive if you don't behave'." The brunette laughed, being followed by the other. "I bet Susan started it... But no, he's not a communist and he's a really nice man. Rather quiet, but nice."
Anna finally stopped talking and crossed her legs as she sat on the top of her bed, watching Hermione carefully.
"What happened to you?" The question came out of her lips with a completely different tone of voice. It wasn't the enthusiastic voice from before, but a quiet, worried one.
"I don't really remember," said the witch. "Martha and Alexei found me in an alley, they said I was hurt and they took me here..."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." The redhead bit her lip and placed her hands on her chest. The action was kinda dramatic, but Hermione believed she really meant what she said. "I arrived here when I was eleven. My mum died when I was a baby and my dad raised me on his own... But then he died of pneumonia and I didn't have anywhere to go."
"I'm sorry."
Anna smiled and shook her head.
"Don't be. I had great times with dad and I'm glad I did... I mean, yes, I'm sad I don't have him right now, but I had him once and that's what is important for me," she explained. "There are many kids here that never met their parents. I had the chance to grow up with my dad and that's a blessing." Parker stared at her for a moment. "We need to ask Mrs. Cole to take your measurements to adjust your clothes... That blouse is way too big for you; it makes you look so thin."
"Ah, don't worry about that; I don't want to bother her more than I already did," said Hermione, pulling the fabric of her blouse and trying to straighten it up.
"But you can't walk around with this thing falling off of your body!" The girl gestured to her. "We can talk to her after dinner which, by the way, must be almost ready... Let's go down!"
Before she could answer, Anna got up and held her by the wrist, pulling her from her bed and leading her to outside. As they walked across the corridors and went downstairs, the red haired girl showed her new friend where everything was... Their room was on the third floor, along with the other rooms that belonged to the older orphans. On the second floor, there were the dormitories of the younger children: one for boys and one for girls; also, the infirmary and the nursery were on that floor. On the first floor, there was the dining hall, the drawing room - which also served as a library –, and the few rooms that were used as classrooms, along with the kitchen and the staff dorms. Anna also explained that they had a backyard where the children were allowed to go in their free time and where the orphanage's bomb shelter was located too... But, according to the girl, it had been quite some time since the last time they needed to use it.
And now they were sitting on one of the three long tables that filled the dining room. Most of the occupants at their table were orphans who seemed to be above sixteen already. From what Anna explained to her, the blonde girl with blue eyes who was sitting next to her was Mabel Davies, and the younger girl with whom she was talking to, the one with brown, curled hair and slightly apart front teeth was Amelia Thomas. There was a boy sitting in front her and that was now talking about the war with a strange enthusiasm. He had dark eyes and his dark, curly hair was brushed back and fixed with a lot of hair gel. This, according to Anna, was Sebastian Turner.
"I wish I could be there," the young man, Sebastian, said. "In the war, I mean."
"Shut up." Another brunette that sat next to him shook her head as she talked. "You don't know what you're talking about..."
"Of course I do!" The boy puffed his chest and raised his head.
"This is Mary Bennett," Anna whispered to her. "I believe she has a thing for Sebastian..."
"What did you say?" The brunette, Mary, turned her head promptly to stare at the red head.
"I just told your name to Hermione here," she explained. "You see, she's new..."
"Oh, yes." Mary narrowed her eyes while watching the witch. "Hermione Elston, am I right?"
"Yes."
"I hope you... Enjoy... this place." She shrugged and Hermione asked herself if the other really meant that.
"As I was saying," Sebastian started to talk once again. "I would join the army if I could. But I can't enlist yet..."
"Of course not, you're still sixteen," said Amelia, laughing. "Imagine you, a boy, in the army."
The girls giggled while the boy scowled at them. Hermione noticed he actually looked older; maybe seventeen or even eighteen, but, as the other girl had said, he was still a child. And she was sure he would regret his words about enjoying being in the army as soon as he stepped into a battle... She knew what war looked like, knew what it was like to be in the front lines, battling against the enemy. These kids, even though they had seen much more of wars than someone with their age in the future, still didn't get the idea of how horrible it was to fight in one.
"I wish I was turning eighteen this year," said the boy, looking around. "So I could enlist as soon as possible, unlike some others..."
"Sebastian..."
"You know I'm right, Mabel. Tommy Baker turned eighteen and is already going to enlist. He, on the other hand, turns eighteen this year and is not moving a finger to help England..." Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. Whoever they were talking about, she felt bad for him... It was his decision if he wanted to get into a war or not and no one had the right to look down on him for deciding not to take part in it.
"Maybe battling is not his thing," whispered the witch, attracting the other's attention.
"She's right," said Sebastian. "The only thing that interests him is that bloody posh school of his." The boy stopped talking bluntly as he looked at the dining room's door. "Isn't that right?" he asked out loud to the newcomer that had now sat down on the far end of the table. "What? Aren't we posh enough for you, my lord?"
The witch sighed and turned her head to look at the target of Turner's accusations. The boy was not too tall and looked younger than Sebastian. His thinness seemed to be increased due to the grey jumper he was wearing, which, just like Hermione's blouse, was too big for him. His skin was almost sickly pale and contrasted against his dark brown, impeccably well-combed hair. His face was handsome and soft, even with the serious expression on it. Upon hearing the other boy, his only reaction was to stare at him with his cold blue eyes for a few seconds, before turning his head back to the plate in front of him.
"Who's that?" asked Hermione in a low voice. She had an odd feeling that she had already seen that face before, but didn't remember where exactly.
"That's Tom," said Anna and the witch felt the contents of her stomach roll as realization started to sink down. "Tom Riddle. I would suggest you not to get too close to him... I heard wicked things happen around him."
Anna had already been asleep for some time when Hermione got up and took her beaded bag out of her wardrobe. She had hidden it between her 'new' clothes, even though she knew no one in the orphanage would be able to open it due to the protective spell she had put on it. Sitting back on her bed and positioning herself in a spot where the moonlight that streamed through the window touched, the witch opened the bag and looked into the dark hole that was inside of it. Sighing, she put her whole arm in it, feeling its contents with the tip of her fingers... It was impractical but it was the only way for her to find what she wanted; after all, she had lost her wand back at the Malfoy Manor and, therefore, couldn't cast a summoning charm to get a piece of parchment and a quill.
As soon as she found it all, the girl put the bag down and supported the parchment on her legs and, then, opened the bottle of ink and dipped the tip of her quill in it. Now that she was there, ready to write a letter to the only person whom she could trust, Hermione wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do... Dumbledore would be able to help her or, if he didn't, it would be good to be back at Hogwarts, where she knew she would be safe... But now the witch knew that the castle might not be as safe as she had imagined it would be, and just because of one single person.
When the name Tom Riddle left Anna's lips back in the dining room, Hermione felt like getting up and running away from that place as soon as possible. Panic rose inside herself as she remembered everything she knew about the Dark Lord and everything he had done to the wizarding world... It was his fault that Harry's parents were dead, just like Sirius and Mad-Eye; it was his fault that the Weasleys were now being persecuted; it was his fault that her parents were living in Australia without even remembering they had a daughter. And there he was, a few meters from her, eating his dinner like any normal person would.
The girl didn't want to live under the same roof as Voldemort, but she could bear it there, in a place where he couldn't use his magic if he didn't want to get arrested for exposing the wizarding community to Muggles... But, once he put his feet in Hogwarts, Tom Riddle would be in his own kingdom, a place where he could do whatever pleased him. And it was the thought of a Riddle free to do anything that scared her... But still, it was Hogwarts, it was safe and it was the closest thing to a home she could get in 1944.
Sighing and shaking her head, the girl placed the tip of her quill on the parchment and started to write. She felt bad for lying to someone like Dumbledore, but, for the time being, Hermione preferred to cover up the whole time-travel story for a while, at least until she got the chance to speak with Dumbledore face to face. After all, it would be disastrous if her letter ended up in wrong hands if it contained that information. So, for now, the only thing the witch would say was a made-up story about how she was a refugee from the war against Grindelwald who was seeking for help and thought that finishing her education at the most well known magical school of Europe would provide her with both the safety she needed and the knowledge she wished to have.
Once having the letter finished, Hermione folded it and put it back into her beaded bag, along with the quill and the ink bottle, before tucking the small bag under her pillow and lying down once again. Now she had to wait for next morning, when she would try to escape from Anna's company for a couple of hours to sneak out of the orphanage and go to Diagon Alley in order to send her letter to professor Dumbledore. You should get some sleep; she could hear Alexei's voice echoing in her ears and smiled. Usually it was her telling people to go to sleep or making suggestions about what would be better for them... It was weird not being the one taking care of others now that there was no Harry nor Ron needing her care. 'No, they need it', she thought, feeling her heart clench inside her chest. 'They need me and I'm not there for them.'
The girl felt the tears coming back to her eyes and closed them in order to avoid crying. This was the first time she actually thought about how alone she was there, in the orphanage, in 1944, now that Anna was quiet, that there were no other orphans making noises and that neither Martha nor Alexei was near. Now she was all by herself, with no Ron Weasley to make stupid remarks or silly jokes and no Harry Potter to be worried about his friends or talk about Quidditch. There was also no Ginny, Luna, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Fred or George... Hell, even Parvati and Lavender seemed to be good company now that she stopped to think about it. Now there was only Anna, Amelia, Mabel, Mary, Sebastian, Martha, Alexei, Mrs. Cole and, even worse, Tom Riddle.
Hermione dreamed about Fluffy, Hagrid's three headed dog. No, actually; she dreamed about the tests the teachers had made up to prevent someone from getting near the Philosopher's Stone; the obstacles she and her friends had gone through when they were only eleven. The Devil's Snare; the flying keys; the giant wizarding chess board; the troll – that they, luckily, didn't have to beat – and, at last, the potions... The girl could remember as if it were yesterday how worried she felt as she watched Harry walking through the purple flames after drinking the right potion, leaving her behind and, for the first time, getting face to face with Lord Voldemort.
'Me! Books and cleverness! There are more important things than that – friendship and bravery and...'
The witch laughed, remembering her own words to Harry. Now she knew exactly what she wanted to tell her friend... After all, she still had the books and the cleverness, but the friendship was gone and, the bravery, she worried, was slowly going down to the same path.
After spending a few minutes in bed, enjoying the colorful remnants of her dream, the girl got up quietly so she wouldn't wake up her roommate, and slipped into the grey orphanage clothes before leaving the room. The orphanage – that, after all, she discovered that was called Wool's Orphanage – was oddly quiet and rather pretty that morning. As she walked down the stairs, Hermione couldn't help but notice how nice the place looked when the sunlight was entering through the windows and illuminating everything. She smiled upon looking up to one of the big windows behind the stairs and seeing tiny dust grains floating and becoming visible against the sunlight.
As she reached the entrance hall, the girl looked around, noticing that there was no other orphan up yet and that the only noise she could hear was the one coming from the kitchen. She wasn't hungry and didn't want to wait until after breakfast to leave for the Diagon Alley, so, after a few minutes of standing there, Hermione decided to leave. It was just a quick trip for her to get her letter sent; nothing that would take too much of her time. If she got out now, she would even be back before breakfast was served.
As it was still early, there were not many people on the streets yet, and that made Hermione feel almost as if she was walking inside a crazy dream or something like that. The girl had never thought she would see London like this. Everything had a vintage touch: the cars that were driving along the streets or that were parked, the buildings, the ads, the people... It almost delighted her to see all those men and women walking around wearing those vintage clothes.
It took longer than the witch expected to get to Diagon Alley, as she needed to ask for directions twice after noticing she didn't know how to get there from the orphanage, but, once she arrived, a warm feeling swept over her as the dark door of the Leaky Cauldron came into her view. Hermione stood in front of it for a few seconds before pushing the door open and entering the pub. As much as she remembered, the place didn't change at all. It was the same old, messy dining room with portraits and posters on the walls; there was the same dark stairs that led to the rooms and that also made odd noises each time someone stepped on them, the same magical atmosphere that clashed so much with Muggle London, which stood right outside the door.
"'ello there, missy!" Hermione turned around to see a red faced man standing behind the bar, cleaning a glass with a cloth. His dark hair had several white spots in it and stood in all directions as if he had just received an electrical shock, but his smile was gentle. "May I help you?"
"Hi." The girl approached him. "I'm new in London and I needed to get some things in Diagon Alley..."
"Oh, yes! That door over there." He pointed to a wooden door at the back of the dining room. "Cross it and you'll be in the courtyard... You 'ave to tap your wand the bricks in the wall. Three up and two across from the trash can."
"Ah…I don't have a wand."
"I beg your pardon, missy?" He leaned in as if to hear her better.
"I lost my wand a few days ago, in a duel," she explained. Well, it wasn't a lie. "That's one of the things I need to get in there: a wand."
"Eh, I see." The man set the glass down and put the cloth on the top of it. "Come on, then, I'll give you a 'and."
She followed him to the courtyard and watched as the man drew his wand out of his pocket and tappet the right brick with it. Soon, the brick wall started opening until it formed an arch that let the Diagon Alley get into her view.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley, young lady." The wizard winked to her and smiled. "I'll be at the bar, if you need any help later..."
"Thank, Mr.…?"
"Gauge, but you can call me Wilfred."
Hermione nodded and smiled as she watched the man walk away from her. Looking back to the entrance, the girl felt her smile grow even larger and took a step in. She could feel the magic that surrounded the place, coming from the shop owners, the visitors, the magical objects and creatures, and even from the wards that protected and hid the place. Even though she already knew Diagon Alley, the girl couldn't help but linger in a shop window or another, staring at their products in awe.
"Stop it, Hermione," she whispered to herself after turning around from the window of Scribbulus Writing Implements, where a dark, elegant quill was writing by itself on a piece of parchment. "You have important things to do now."
The girl headed to the owlery. It was one of the few shops she had never visited in the alley, but she wasn't surprised to see it looked a lot like Hogwarts' owlery: dark, smelly and filled with hooting sounds from the birds. The witch behind the counter was busy reading a magazine about magical creatures but quickly raised her eyes as soon as Hermione walked in.
"How can I help you?" Her voice sounded bored and she looked back to her magazine.
"I wanted to send this letter." The girl put her hand into her beaded bag and took the letter out of it. The woman pouted and put the magazine down, before getting up and walking to the owls' cages.
"To where?"
"Hogwarts."
"Hum... Artemis here will take it for you," she said, opening a cage that contained a grey owl. "Want to receive to reply in your house?"
"No, I think its better not to." Hermione handed her the letter and she gave it to the owl.
"Then come back in a few days. If it's going to Hogwarts, I would say you can come back in two days... Teachers usually take one or two days to answer." The witch petted the owl's head before letting it go. The bird flew from an open window in the front of the shop and soon was out of view. "That's one Galleon."
Hermione paid her and left the shop. She looked around, catching a glimpse of Ollivander's shop and headed to it without hesitating. She was desperate for a wand as it was horrible to feel useless and exposed when she didn't have one with her. The shop, just like the Leaky Cauldron, seemed to be a place that had stopped in time. The shelves were still messy, and the wand's boxes had their usual cover of dust on them.
"Hello?" Hermione called, looking around and not seeing anyone.
"Your magic is quite strong, young lady." The girl didn't recognize the voice that had just answered her and, certainly, didn't recognize the young man who came out of gaps between the shelves. It took a few seconds for her to notice how she knew those shiny blue eyes and that messy, blonde hair... And the smile, of course, that interested smile.
"Mr.… Mr. Ollivander?" The witch gaped, noticing she was staring at him with her mouth wide open from surprise.
"Let's see," he whispered, not answering her question and looking through the boxes on the shelves, his long fingers hovering in front of each of them, as if he was trying to feel what they wanted. "Try this one." The man pulled out a purple box and opened it, taking out a dark wand and handing it to her. "Sessile Oak with unicorn hair core... Thirteen inches. Non-pliant and very strong."
Hermione held it but nothing happened. Ollivander narrowed his eyes and went back to the shelves, coming back with another box, a red one now.
"Willow, sixteen inches, core of phoenix feather. Strong and light."
Again, nothing. The wizard, once again, went back to his boxes and, after other two failed attempts on wands, Ollivander came back with another dark red box. He opened it and held the wand carefully between his fingers before giving it to the girl.
"Yew, seventeen inches. The core is dragon heartstring... Supple and good with charms."
As her fingers closed around the light colored wand, Hermione felt a wave of warmth run up through her arm and spread across her whole body. The sensation was great, as if the wand actually completed her, matching perfectly with her magic and making it a whole. A small smile appeared on her lips and this sign didn't pass unnoticed by the young Ollivander.
"Seven galleons." The man smiled as she gave him the golden coins. "Be careful with that wand, miss. It may not look so great, but, in the right hand, it'll become powerful... And I can sense your power."
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."
Apparently her little trip to the Diagon Alley took longer than she expected as, when she got back to the orphanage, Hermione found a very worried Anna waiting for her at the breakfast table.
"Where were you! ?" the girl asked as her roommate sat down next to her.
"I went for a walk," said Hermione. "I needed to look at something colorful."
"London is not really colorful," whispered Anna, pushing her plate away as she had already finished eating. "Everything is grey and dull."
"Come on, you, above every person in this orphanage, should be the one who would see London as a great place!" The witch laughed, looking at the other.
"I lived in the countryside until I was seven," she said, quietly, and shrugged. "That was colorful."
Hermione felt bad for the girl sitting next to her and tried to think about another subject to bring into their conversation.
"Anna, that boy from yesterday," the witch started talking, looking around to see if her subject was anywhere near. "Why does everyone talk about him like that? I mean... The way Sebastian talked about him, it was weird."
"Oh, Tom Riddle." The red head sighed and bit her lip. "He's quite odd. Doesn't have friends and is always on his own... A few years ago he got into a private school, you see. I don't remember its name, but it seems to be a really good one. He leaves every September and only comes back in July. Sebastian doesn't like it; he thinks it's unfair that Riddle gets to go to a private school and the rest of us don't, but I already told him: the boy deserves it. He's intelligent and refusing the offer would be the same as signing a certificate saying he wanted to be stuck in here for the rest of his life. He had his chance and grasped it... I always say to Sebastian: that Riddle kid will be grand one day, I don't care what you say about him; I bet that, in a few years, we'll hear about him. I, particularly, think he's becoming a doctor, like Alexei."
Hermione stiffened a laugh that almost came out from her mouth as the mere idea of Tom Riddle as a doctor entered her mind. If only Anna knew that, in the future, that boy would be killing men, women and children without thinking twice...
"Anyway, I don't judge him for liking to be alone, but I also don't get too close to him... As I said: wicked things happen near him."
"Wicked things?"
"Yes," she answered. "My former roommate, Amy Benson, was terrified of him." Hermione narrowed her eyes as she recognized that name. Harry had talked about this girl... Riddle had once taken her and another boy to the cave which, many years later, he turned into a hideout for his Horcrux, and, somehow, scared the hell out of them. "She never talked about what happened, but always said about how I should never get near him because he would hurt me. The kids still talk about the incident in Dover, after which Amy and Dennis Bishop became all weird... Dennis was adopted when he was fourteen and Amy left last week. She had just turned eighteen, but she said she wanted to get away from Riddle as soon as possible."
"I see..."
"The thing is: stay out of his way and he'll be harmless." Anna shrugged. "You'll never see Riddle talking or anything like that... The only people he used to talk to were Martha and Dr. Mazarovsky, but he stopped talking to her about two years ago, after he got really sick during a summer vacation. Dr. Mazarowsky still talks to him sometimes."
"And... Since when has he been here?"
"He was born here," said the red haired girl. "His mum died giving him birth, they say. And his dad never showed up. It must be quite sad, no? Living your whole life here, without meeting your parents... That's what I meant yesterday: I knew my dad and I'm thankful for that. Riddle didn't have this chance and I kinda of feel sorry for him."
The orphanage's drawing room, as Anna had explained, was also some kind of small library where kids stayed when they wanted to read or do their homework during the school year, but now, during vacation, it was pretty empty. Hermione decided that it would be nice to take a look at the books the staff kept in there, as she couldn't bear reading her roommate's magazines anymore – at first, she was interested in seeing how those old magazines were, but ended up reading them way too quickly and now the gossips about old celebrities and step-by-steps of "how to curl your hair" were beginning to bore her.
There was just one person in the room as she walked in and, surprisingly, it was the only person in the whole orphanage who she didn't want to cross paths with. The girl slowed her pace as she neared him. Riddle was standing in front of the big bookshelf that took up part of the wall, staring at the books in it while biting down on his already short nails. His eyes left the books for a quick moment as he looked down to Hermione, but said nothing. The witch felt extremely uncomfortable in his presence and the silence between them was not helping, not even one bit.
"Are you going to pick something or are you just going to stand there staring at it for too long?" The girl was surprised to recognize his voice. It was the same one she had heard at the infirmary, talking with Alexei a few days before. Just like back then, it was smooth, but, this time, it was also cold and irritated.
"You're doing just the same thing." She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. Who did he think he was? The owner of the place?
Riddle lunged foward and grabbed a book with a dark brown cover and the title written in golden letters. Before the girl could read its title, the boy shoved the book into her hands.
"What's that?"
"That's me saving your time," he said, looking back to the bookshelf. "Now go."
Hermione scowled at him but didn't say anything. She simply held the book firmly in her hands, almost digging her nails into its leathery cover, and turned around, walking away from him. As soon as she reached her bedroom, the girl threw the book inside her wardrobe, telling herself she wouldn't read something that git simply shoved in her face, and sat down on her bed. Anna wasn't around and Hermione wondered where she would have been... 'Maybe she went for a walk.'
Looking at the door for a while, the witch got up once again and opened the wardrobe, taking her bag from there. She put her hand into it and took out her new wand. The warm, tingling sensation the object gave to her fingers was still there, as if it was begging to be used. Hermione brought the wand closer to her face and stared at the details engraved in the wood... Unlike her former wand, this one had an obvious handle and, in it, there were tiny little leaves and stems that curled themselves around it. This actually reminded her of the design of her former wand. The girl was in the middle of her examination when the door suddenly opened.
"Hermione, Mrs. Cole wants to talk to you..." Anna came in, talking loudly, and stopped abruptly when she saw her roommate. Hermione managed to tuck the wand under her shirt before the other could actually pay attention to it. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," she said, cursing herself for letting her voice come out trembling. "What were you saying?"
"Mrs. Cole wants to talk to you in her office," said the red haired girl. "Are you alright? You look pale."
"Yes, I am. Thanks for asking." She smiled softly. "I'll be going soon..."
"All right. Damn, I forgot my notebook outside with Mabel and Amelia," the girl hissed. "Well, see you later, Hermione."
The witch nodded and watched as Anna left. When she found herself alone once again, Hermione put her wand inside her beaded bag once again and got up, straightening her skirt and leaving the room.
A/N: So, another chapter. More Muggle world because I simply love it. Also, a bit from the wizarding world... So, we got to know a few more people in this chapter: Anna and the other kids from the orphanage, Mr. Ollivander and, of course, Tom Riddle, the odd kid that makes wicked things happen around himself. I don't know what to say about this chapter... I had fun writing it, especially while writing Ollivander's scene. Ahm, also, I'm sorry I took some time to update... I had the chapter ready, but I wanted to wait for my beta to send me more corrected chapters. I don't know when she'll be sending them, so I don't know when I'll update it again... Maybe, only maybe, I'll post without correction, but i don't know, I'm way too paranoid to do it and, if I do, I'll spend a awful lot of time reading it again and again and again trying to find mistakes. Beta read by RipperSahdow6116.
Thanks to the people who left a review on the previous chapter: SaffronDaise, hateme101, Zombie Reine, julesrose, Weird-Chik2 and Miss RSS (by the way, Vicky, darling, this chapter is for our seven kids! As you can see, there are two of the people that two of them were named after: Tom and Alexei...). As always, reviews are wonderful and they really help me to know if you're enjoying it, what you think that could change, what could happen, anything.