the diagon alley
.
.
Mrs. Cole's office was very tidy, and, like the rest of the orphanage, spotlessly clean. However, Hermione couldn't help but notice a couple of empty gin bottles lying on a cabinet as she walked in.
"Ah, here she is," the matron said as she approached her desk, casting a curious look in the direction of the man who was sitting in front of the older woman. The witch felt her heart skip when she noticed that the person was wearing an odd combination of colorful Muggle clothes, and had shoulder-length, auburn hair. "Ms. Elston, this is Professor Dumbledore, he's here to-"
Mrs. Cole's voice faded away from Hermione's ears as the man turned around to look at her. The girl couldn't hide the small smile that appeared on her face when she looked at Dumbledore's face... His skin was not as wrinkled as it was in her time, and his beard was not that long and the same strong color as his hair, but the wise smile and the twinkling eyes behind the half-moon glasses were still there; just the way she remembered them. Hermione found it funny how the mere presence of the teacher made her feel safer, as if he was a synonym of safety for her.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Elston." He got up and offered her his hand, which she took without hesitating, grasping it like she was making a silent call for help. "My dear Mrs. Cole, could I talk with this young lady in private?"
"Of course, Professor," the older woman said, leaving her chair and, soon, walking out of the office.
"I'm glad to see you're in good condition," said Dumbledore, turning to look at her. His face was still nice and gentle, but there was a hint of worry in his features. "Merlin knows how things outside the United Kingdom are difficult nowadays… I'm very happy to hear you escaped alive..." The girl smiled sadly and shrugged. "Although I feel sorry for your loss, Ms. Elston."
"At least I'm safe now," she said.
"Yes, you are." He let go of her hand and put his hand inside the pocket of his jacket, producing a yellowish envelope out of it and handing it to her. "And you'll be even safer after September first..."
Hermione's smile widened and she took the letter into her hands, reading the words printed on the front. Ms H. Elston. Third room on the right side of the third floor corridor. Wool's Orphanage. 13, Vauxhall Road. London. It was different from all the previous Hogwarts letters she had received. Those letters were written for Hermione Granger, the girl whose parents were dentists and spent her vacations with her friends... This was for Hermione Elston, the orphan girl whose Muggle parents had been killed in an anti-Muggle attack in France, where they lived with a wizarding family whom they knew for a really long time. Those letters were written to a character from a silly story the girl had created to cover up her own reality.
She skimmed her fingers over the red crest made of wax before tugging on it to open the envelope. The contents of the letter were the same as always... The only differences, from what she could see, were a couple of new classes she could take if she wished to.
"Thank you, professor," she said, smiling up to him. "I mean, for accepting me into your school..."
"Oh, Ms. Elston." Dumbledore laughed quietly and put a thin hand on her shoulder, friendly. "The school is a place for magical people like you... And, also, help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." Hermione felt her eyes welling up with tears as she recognized those words. Those were the exact kind of thing she expected to hear from Dumbledore during the feasts of the beginning of the school year. "There's no need to be sad," said the man when he noticed how she was restraining herself from crying. "As I said: you'll be safe there and we'll do everything to help you overcome all the awful things that happened to you n the past."
"Thank you, sir." The girl laughed, drying her eyes with the tip of her fingers. "But... This will sound really..." Hermione let her voice falter.
"What, Ms. Elston?" The teacher arched a eyebrow as he stared at her.
She had intended to tell Dumbledore about her time-travel as soon as she got to Hogwarts, as soon as she met him. But now Albus Dumbledore was there, inside the orphanage, talking to her... And she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. There was something holding her back; a bad feeling, a warning, an alien thing holding back the real story and preventing her from telling it to the only person who could actually help her and making another lie come out of her lips.
"It'll sound really silly." The girl shook her head. "It's just that I've heard so much about Hogwarts from those who taught me about magic..."
"The wizarding family your parents were friends with?"
"Yes. As I said in my letter, there was this family and, since I started showing signs of magic, they volunteered to teach me it with their kids." The witch cursed herself mentally at the same time as she imagined the Weasleys staring at her. 'I'm sorry,' she thought. 'I'm sorry for including you in this awful lie.'
The wizard squeezed her shoulder before starting to talk again. Dumbledore explained to her how the school worked, the grading system, the classes, and the houses. He told her about the characteristics of each house, but never mentioned how she would be sorted into one of them. The girl asked him about the sorting, just like any outsider would do, but the only answer she received was a mischievous smile, and a quick "It's a surprise, Ms Granger" from him. The last subject he talked about was where she could buy all the thingss she needed.
"Diagon Alley is here at London, and the best place for a witch or wizard to go," he explained. "You'll find everything you need there. You'll have to enter a pub called the Leaky Cauldron, in order to get to the alley... Just ask old Wilfred about how to get there and he'll help you without thinking twice."
Hermione smiled and nodded as the teacher led her to the office's door, opening it and stepping out. As the girl didn't see anyone from the staff around, she offered to accompany the teacher to the front door. During their walk, Dumbledore kept talking to her, even if he careful to not use any word that could be wrongly interpreted by any of the Muggle kids that passed by them. They were already in the front hall when the wizard suddenly stopped talking and turned around.
"Ah, Mr. Riddle! I almost didn't see you there."
The witch looked around and saw Tom Riddle standing by the drawing room's door, with a book in his hands and staring at them. His eyes were filled with a strange emotion which she couldn't really decipher... It could easily be hatred or just a little annoyance. But it only took a moment until his stare fell on her and, this time, it was a rather curious one.
"I believe you must have already met Ms. Elston here," said Dumbledore, tapping her back lightly.
"Yes, I have." The boy's voice was low and cautious, as if he was choosing his words carefully.
"Well, I'm delighted to say that she, like you, will now be attending to Hogwarts." The older wizard smiled, receiving nothing but a blank look from the other in return. "By the way, Mr. Riddle, now that I've seen you it's occurred to me that you could show her where to get her things... Would you mind doing so?"
The teenager didn't answer right away. He took a moment to look at the girl, analyzing her with those blue eyes of his. Hermione almost felt exposed during the visual examination, for it felt as if Riddle could know everything about her by only taking a quick look at her... though that was obviously impossible. The young wizard was no Sherlock Holmes, was not using Legilimency on her and, even if he tried to, it wouldn't work. She had been learning how to shield her mind ever since Harry started to have that whole problem of letting Voldemort get into his mind and, by now, the girl believed her Occlumency techniques were good enough not to let Riddle get into her thoughts or, if he managed to do so, she would at least feel it.
"Of course not, sir," he said, looking into her face once again and raising his chin slightly as if to impose some kind of superiority. Hermione had to suppress a laugh. It was as though he was trying to look superior in a place where everyone was each other's equal... For example, there was absolutely no difference between the two of them. They both had the status of orphaned kids; teenagers without families or important backgrounds and, she noticed, they even looked alike now that they were wearing that ugly uniform from the orphanage that looked way too big for the both of them. "It'll be a delight."
"Good." Dumbledore smiled and looked back at Hermione. "Now you know you have a fellow schoolmate here... I'm sure Mr. Riddle will be happy to assuage all of your doubts about the school. I must go now."
"All right, professor." She nodded, watching as the wizard walked to the door. "Good bye!"
"Good bye, Ms Elston, Mr. Riddle." He waved to them. "Ah, Mr. Riddle, could you please send that kind young woman - Martha is her name, I believe - my regards? I didn't get the chance to see her today."
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore."
As soon as the door closed behind the wizard, the girl turned around only to find Tom Riddle now standing awfully close to her. Once again, his eyes were locked onto her and she could feel them burning into her skin.
"You're a witch." The whisper wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. "And what is a witch doing in this... place?"
"The same thing a wizard is doing, I guess." Hermione shrugged and stepped away from him before turning around and walking away.. "I have nowhere to go, just like you."
"About earlier today..."
"Oh, no need to explain that." She looked at him, a small and obviously fake smile playing on her lips. "You were kind with me because you thought I was a Muggle. I believe I should say you won't need to change your behavior too much, Mr. Riddle; after all, I'm a Muggleborn."
The witch didn't have the chance to see the expressionless face of the boy turn into a disgusted scowl, even if for a few seconds, as she walked away quickly, returning to her bedroom.
"You'll be going to the same school as Tom?" Anna's face was a mixture of surprise and disappointment after Hermione told her about Dumbledore's visit. The witch felt bad for her as she watched how the other's usually cheerful face was now without its usual glee. "I have such a great luck with roommates..."
"That doesn't mean I'll forget you!" said Hermione, sitting next to the other girl on her bed and holding her hand. "I'll write, I swear. And I'll be coming back here once the school year ends..." She didn't know if this was true – actually, she didn't even know if she wanted it to happen – as, if everything went right, the girl wanted to be able to go back to her own time before the end of the term. "And you'll have an entire room for yourself!"
"Oh." Anna laughed, shaking her head. "What's the fun in having a whole room to yourself? The only one who likes it is Riddle." Soon, the laugh died on her lips as she looked at Hermione again. "You'll be leaving in less than a month!"
"Yes..."
Anna opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and remained in silence, looking at other bed inside the room while playing with the end of her braid with her fingers. The brunette watched as her friend – because, even though she knew the other for only about three days, Hermione already liked the idea of calling her a 'friend' – stared blankly at her bed, wishing she could find a way to sneak her into Hogwarts.
"Remember what I said about Tom Riddle? I think that can be applied to you too." The red head smiled shyly to her, squeezing her fingers.
"What?" asked Hermione, faking resentment. "Am I as odd as Tom Riddle?"
"No!" The witch laughed as she saw how worried the girl looked, believing she had actually misunderstood her words. "I mean that, if you were called to that school, then you must really deserve to be there, and you must be as intelligent as Riddle. You had the chance and, like him, you chose to get a hold on it." Anna shrugged and smiled. "Now you must hold on tight and make your dear friend here proud!"
When she went back to Diagon Alley, Hermione wished she had enjoyed her first visit to it in the forties better, because it wasn't possible for her to enjoy it this time, not with Tom Riddle breathing down on her neck every damn minute. Apparently the boy thought the words "you could show her where to get her things" meant "you can stick to her like glue and not let her out of your sight"... or Tom was following Dumbledore's request as best as possible to show the teacher that he was a responsible student – Hermione remembered how Harry told her the headmaster didn't trust Riddle during his school days... Maybe that was the reason he was doing this now, to try to make the older wizard trust him a little bit – or he was just sticking to her in order to discover more about her and/or to find something he could criticize.
Now they were inside Flourish & Blotts and Hermione busied herself with looking through a selection of wizarding literature in an attempt to make the boy get bored with her and leave... Apparently it worked, as Riddle, after a few minutes of standing by her side and not saying a word (he hadn't said much since they left the orphanage, and this was actually a surprise; from what she knew about Voldemort, she would expect Tom Riddle to enjoy a long and well written speech about how superior he was just like his older self would, but the wizard didn't say a word about himself, and when did talk it was about Diagon Alley or the subjects at Hogwarts), quietly walked away from her, approaching an isolated island of books in the bookshop. The witch smiled, putting down the sugary novel she was looking over, and looked at the other boy. Tom was looking down at a leather-bound big book, letting his fingers linger on top of its cover.
"Mr. Riddle?" she called, and he looked away from the book quickly.
"I think you can get your thins by yourself now, Ms. Elston," he said coldly. "I believe you don't need me to look after you."
The girl swallowed the well-formed answer she had on the tip of her tongue and simply shook her head before turning around and walking away. The nerve of that boy! He acted as if it was she was the one who didn't leave his trail ever since they had arrived at Diagon Alley... Surprisingly, as soon as she found herself out of Tom Riddle's sight, Hermione felt a lot more relaxed, as if a huge weight had been taken from her back. She was able to suppress her dislike for the wizard – or for his future self – very well, but, sometimes, being in his presence made her feel extremely bad, making her mood very delicate and her tongue sharp. But, thankfully, the amount of time she had spent in his presence was not much... Tom seemed to be able to disappear inside the orphanage during the days and, as she spent most of the time with the other older orphans, he never got near her when he actually showed up. This meant he hadn't, until now, shown any trace of prejudice towards her for the fact that she was a Muggle-born, but she knew it was only a matter of time before it happened.
Checking the list of things she needed, Hermione noticed she had gotten everything on it. Oh well, that left her with some time to stroll around Diagon Alley... The girl took her time to visit Whizz Hard Books (there was nothing interesting in it, though), and an antique shop filled with some of the oddest objects she had ever seen and was located in the same building where, years later, Fred and George Weasley would open their own joke shop. After spending a couple of hours in those places, the witch went to sit by the now vintage-ish Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, surprised by the fact it already existed in 1944.
"Ah, the girl with the yew wand." She heard a warm voice speaking and, before she could turn around to see who was talking to her, the figure of the younger Ollivander appeared next to the table where she was sitting. "Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander." The witch smiled at him. "Oh, sit down if you want to..."
The young man nodded and did as she told him so, supporting his elbows on the table and looking at her with those pale eyes of his. It was surprising how the wandmaker's eyes wouldn't change over the many years that would pass until her true first meeting with him when she was only eleven years old.
"Hogwarts is waiting for you, I see..." he said, stretching his neck to look at the bags the girl was carrying with her. "Any idea of which House you'll be sorted into?"
"I think no one ever knows their house before being sorted." She shrugged, smiling. 'Gryffindor, obviously.'
"You're right. One can try to guess, but the only way to know for sure is to go through the sorting," said Ollivander. "I, myself, was in Ravenclaw. A good house, if you ask me."
"Where those of wit and learning will always find their kind," Hermione quoted the Sorting Hat's song.
"Exactly." The man propped his chin on the back of his hand and narrowed his eyes as he stared at her. "Is there something troubling you, Ms...?"
"Elston. Hermione Elston," she answered and sighed, looking down at the half eaten cup of ice cream she had over the table. "I don't know... If there's something troubling me, I mean."
"I believe that there is," the wandmaker mused, turning his gaze to the people walking up and down the street. "A young lady like you would not have a frown between their eyebrows if they weren't troubled." Automatically, Hermione brought her hand to between her eyebrows, making the other laugh. "What happened, Ms Elston? I mean, if you are allowed to tell me..."
The witch watched Ollivander for a while before breathing deeply and sighing. Her original plan was to talk to Dumbledore, but, after meeting him, something was holding her back, not letting her tell the truth to her teacher... But she needed help from someone else, someone who would know about magic and its properties to help her with the complicated magic of the time-turner. And Ollivander was there... Sure, she wasn't as close to him as she was to Dumbledore... . 'Close to Dumbledore? Come on, the only one close to him was Harry,' a small voice said in her head. Thinking better, Hermione noticed that she had never been that close to the headmaster. She admired him and liked having him as the headmaster of her school, but she didn't remember directly talking to him on her own, without Harry or about something that didn't concern Harry.
"What would you do if you let the only person that could help you slip away?" she whispered.
"I would look after someone else to help me." His answer came out promptly.
Shooting a quick glance towards his direction, Hermione took out her wand from her pocket and, with a soft wave and a silent spell, cast a Muffliato around their table.
"I take it the others shouldn't hear our conversation..."
"You asked me if I was allowed to talk about this," the girl began, resting the wand on the table. "The answer is no, I'm not allowed to do so... But I will, because I have too."
A small smile appeared on Ollivander's thin lips. "Then go ahead."
"The thing is... I was involved in an accident," the girl explained, seeing how one of the other's eyebrows rose. "I was fighting, in a war, against this dark wizard..."
"Grindelwald?"
"No, not him, another dark wizard... You don't know him, yet."
"Yet?"
"Yes. You see, in the future, everyone will hear about this wizard, he'll be everywhere, threatening every wizard, witch and Muggle," the girl muttered, feeling a shiver run down her body as she remembered how the wizarding world was in a state of terror in the future. In the forties, even though they were fighting against Grindelwald, it wasn't the same thing... Grindelwald didn't attack England so often and Voldemort's sole territory was England.
"You can't be sure of that, unless you're a seer." He looked at her with a frown on his face. "But you don't look like a seer."
"Oh, no! I'm not... I actually have no inclination for Divination," she laughed. "But I do know this. I know that what I said will happen because... I saw it."
Ollivander narrowed his eyes and, after a few seconds, opened his mouth as he realized what she had meant. Hermione pressed her lips against one another and shrugged, tilting her head to the side.
"I told you I shouldn't talk about it..."
"You really shouldn't, Ms. Elston." The man tapped the table with the tip of his fingers, looking worried now. "These are things no one should know...But, how?"
"As I said, it was an accident. A broken time-turner."
"A time-turner..." the wandmaker whispered. "I've heard about them but never saw one. Powerful little things, they are. Dangerous, too, very dangerous."
"Time as a whole is powerful and dangerous."
"So you got in the way of a broken time-turner and ended up here, in 1944," he mused, once again looking at the passersbys. "And now you want help to go back to your original decade."
"Exactly."
"And your name is not...?"
"Hermione Elston? No. It's a pseudonym." The girl gave him a saddened smile. "Please, Mr. Ollivander, I really need some help... And you are a good wizard, a powerful one, and have great knowledge about magic."
"You put me in a much higher place than where I really stand, my dear." The wizard laughed quietly. "But I'll do my best to help you find a way to go back home... Merlin knows how horrible it's to be away from those you love, and I don't want you to feel like that for too long."
"Thank you..." Hermione smiled, reaching for his hand and holding it. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome, Hermione Elston," the wizard said. "Now, do you have that broken time-turner by any chance?"
"Yes, it's here." The witch looked around to make sure no one – especially Riddle – was paying attention to them, before letting go of his hand and reaching for the purple beaded bag she always carried with her, opening it and putting her hand into it. "Here."
The girl quickly put the time-turner into Ollivander's outstretched hand. He, as if he sensed her worry of being seen with the object, closed his hand, hiding it between his calloused fingers.
"You'll be going to Hogwarts on September the first, am I right?" Hermione nodded. "I shall look for information about it as soon as possible and I'll write to you."
"All right... Oh, and, Mr. Ollivander, could I ask you one more favor?"
"Of course, Ms. Elston."
"I have this friend, a Muggle, who lives in the orphanage where I'm living right now," she explained, noticing how the man's eyebrows furrowed as she told him she lived in a Muggle orphanage. "And I really wanted to write her during the school year, but I can't send her my letters via owl..."
"You want me to take your letters to her, is that right?" A mischievous smile appeared on his face, reminding her of the older Ollivander that had given her that same smile when she found her first wand. "And take her letters to send to you."
"Yes... But if it'll interfere with your work and your routine, Mr. Ollivander, there's no need to..."
"Don't worry about that," the wizard told her, stocking the time-turner into the pocket of his vest. "And I believe you can call me Garrick from now on. 'Mr. Ollivander' makes me feel old." The girl laughed, followed by him. "Also, I think you ought to go now..."
"Oh...?"
"I think that young man over there is waiting for you." Ollivander pointed to the other side of the street, where a sulky Tom Riddle stood. His eyes were locked on them, his arms were crossed in front of his chest and a small pout was on his lips, showing his annoyance. It was almost a comical image to see the future Dark Lord behaving like a child. "Is he your boyfriend...?"
"What? No!" Hermione laughed. "Merlin, no! Definitely no, but I have to go, otherwise he'll come here and drag me back to the orphanage by the look on his face..."
"Oh, I do recognize him," mused Ollivander, staring at Tom. "Thirteen inches and a half, yew with the core of phoenix feather. The same wood as yours, Ms. Elston." Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine. She didn't even remember Voldemort's wand was made out of yew and, now that Ollivander reminded her of that, the information made her feel uneasy. "Powerful wand, and mysterious... Most yew wands are like that. It has a twin that has not been sold yet. Oh, and I remember I rather had fun carving it..."
"Had fun carving it?" the witch asked as she lifted her own wand and ended the spell around their table.
"Yes, I had just been to the apothecary where Mr. Dranke had received a new lot of goat's bones that are used in some suspicious potions... I saw the bones and decided it would be interesting to carve a wand that looked like one. Not the one of a goat, but of a human... Now, mind you, I'm not an specialist in human anatomy, so it didn't come out so perfectly correct."
"That's rather morbid, isn't it?" Hermione chuckled.
"Yes, I know, but it turned out looking interesting. It's really light, too, easy to handle in a duel..."
'I bet it must be, considering the fact that Voldemort has won so many duels.'
"I really think you should go, Ms. Elston." Garrick raised an eyebrow and faked a worried look. "Knowing his wand, I would say this young man doesn't have the greatest amount of patience in the world."
The walk back to the orphanage was a lot like their walk to the alley. The most interesting part of it was when they were walking out of the Leaky Cauldron and ended up meeting Wilfred Gauge's son, Tom. With amusement, Hermione noticed the six year old child playing with a miniature dragon that puffed clouds of smoke and flew around him was actually the man who took care of the pub in her own time. Riddle wasn't one bit amused when Gauge told his son that "he had the same name as that respectful young wizard" and simply rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"So, did you buy anything interesting?" the girl asked when they were almost at the orphanage.
"Why do you ask?" Riddle looked at her with a suspicious look on his face.
"Because I saw you looking rather interested in a book back in Flourish & Blotts. I thought I could ask you what it was about, since it attracted your attention so much..."
"Look." Tom stopped walking and turned to stare at her. "It's not only because you're a... You're like me so I'll be all friendly with you, all right? So, stop pestering me..."
"You seemed to be interested in having a fellow magical person in your orphanage when Dumbledore told you about me." Hermione raised an eyebrow and stared at him. "Oh, yes, I'm a Mudblood. You don't want to be pestered by Mudbloods."
Riddle clenched his jaw and breathed deeply. The girl could see the fingers of his right hand twitch slightly, as if in a reflex to get his wand, and took a step back to stay a safe distance away from him.
"You should know better," the boy whispered, his voice sounding low and dangerous, and he approached her. Although his eyes were still the same icy blue color, the witch could swear that they would turn into the scarlet, snake-like eyes of her future any time soon. "Then to meddle with me."
Hermione only noticed she was holding her breath when the other turned around and started to walk in the orphanage's direction once again. She waited until Tom was a good distance away from her to begin walking again. 'What are you thinking! ?' she asked herself, shaking her head. 'Are you mad? Do you really have to pick up a fight with Voldemort just to annoy him? That's utterly immature, Hermione!'
Just as she expected, as soon as she walked into the orphanage, Riddle was out of sight once again. The girl went to her room only to find it empty – Anna must have be out with one of the other girls or downstairs in the drawing room-, and took this time alone to think about what she was about to do... The classes in Hogwarts would begin in a few days and, once inside the castle, she would, once again, be amongst the wizarding community. If she looked at it from one side, this would be great; after all, the school was one of the safest places in the wizarding world and she would be safe from the Muggle war and Grindelwald, even if both wars weren't as strong as before in the United Kingdom. But, on the other hand, the witch would be vulnerable in other aspects... She would be in the middle of a generation of people who, in her own time, would be her teachers and the grandparents of her classmates, not to mention that she would be in the same year as the future Lord Voldemort. But still, it would be better than staying shunned out of the magical world.
Hermione lay down on her bed and took a deep breath. If only Harry and Ron were there with her... She wondered where they were and if they were doing well. The girl knew very well that there were times where the boys were completely dependent on her, but they could survive without her help; that time back in their second year when she was petrified was proof of it. 'That time when Riddle petrified you,' she thought, sighing. The witch remembered how fascinated she was by the intelligent boy she read about in the old yearbooks after Harry found Tom Riddle's diary... He was a prefect, had great marks on the OWLs and NEWTs, later became head boy and had received a special award for services to the school. If there was someone Hermione looked up to when she was twelve years old, then Tom M. Riddle was this person... At least until she found out her role model was actually the same man who was trying to kill her friend and had almost killed her with a giant snake. And now there she was, meeting a seventeen year old Riddle, living in the same place as him and, soon, would be studying in the same year as him.
"Hermione!"
The girl jumped on the bed, startled with how abruptly her roommate opened the door and called her. Anna's eyes were wide and her face was a blend of surprise and amusement as she gestured for the other to follow her. Hermione got up and did as her friend had asked, following her down the stairs and finding a crowd of children on the door that led to the drawing room.
"What happened?" asked the witch, frowning as she heard someone screaming. She recognized Mrs. Cole's annoyed voice as the one responsible for that.
"Stop it, stop!" The woman's voice echoed in the hall. "Sebastian Turner, stop that right now, young man!"
"Seb and Riddle," said the girl, pointing to the crowd. "I was just walking past and saw them arguing before Sebastian jumped on Riddle. All that army stuff again..."
"Oh God..." Hermione whispered as she watched Martha coming through the crowd, dragging a disheveled Tom Riddle by the elbow. The boy had a hand covering the lower half of his face and, from what the witch could see, there was blood dripping from his chin and running down his hand, passing through his pale and trembling fingers.
"Ms. Elston!" Martha's voice took the girl out of her observation. Now the woman was approaching her. "Can you please take Tom to the infirmary? Dr. Mazarovsky will soon be there... I... I have to deal with..." She looked back to the group of children, finally letting go of the teenager's arm. "All of you, out of the drawing room, right now! Out!"
While the blond was busy trying to disperse the crowd of kids, Hermione took her position next to Tom and took his arm, leading him to the second floor, to the infirmary. Riddle didn't say anything – though the girl believed he only kept his mouth shut because he wasn't really able to talk at the moment – and, when they finally reached the room, he went to next the old gurney and leaned against it.
"You can go now, Elston." Tom's voice came out sounding strange and the girl had to restrain the laugh that came up to her mouth as the image of Voldemort speaking like that appeared in her mind.
"Come on, let me see it." Hermione approached him and held his wrists, using her force to pull his hands down. The girl scowled as she looked at his face. Riddle's nose was reddened and obviously broken, as it was now crooked and bleeding. Oh well, at least it wasn't his mouth as she had imagined... "Oh, I could swear he had left you with a few missing teeth." The wizard grunted something she couldn't understand and the girl raised her hand to touch his nose. As soon as her fingers touched it, Riddle let out a cry of pain and recoiled, turning his face away.
"Why did you do that! ?" he asked, panting and covering his face again.
"Just checking," she said, walking up to the door and locking it, before going back to stand in front of the other. "It's definitely broken." The girl put her hand in the pocket of her skirt and took her wand out of it. It was a great chance to see how her new wand would work.
"What are you doing?" The wizard narrowed his eyes, looking at the wand that was now pointed to his face. "Elston, don't even think about it. I won't let you cast a single spell on me!"
"Riddle, stop acting as if I'm going to hex you." The girl breathed deeply. "If I leave it like that, Alexei will have to take care of it and I'm sure he'll take more time and do it in a more painful way."
"He's a doctor and you're not," Tom began to talk but, suddenly stopped as Hermione's hand grasped his face and turned it to her. The boy's eyes widened as he saw her wand pointed to his nose and he tried to get away from her hand, but, before he managed to do so, the witch whispered a incantation and a loud 'crack' was heard as his nose was pushed back into its right place. Riddle cried out and pushed her back, before covering his nose once again. "Oh God..." he whispered, closing his eyes tightly and breathing quickly. "Oh God."
"Done. Now you won't have to worry about having a crooked nose for the rest of your life..." 'Or at least until you make it vanish in some mysterious way.'
Tom was now busy with touching his own nose, hissing a little some as he did so. Hermione took this moment to take a better look on his face... His nose was still swollen and red, and the girl was afraid that, even though she had fixed it, he would still have ugly bruises on his nose and around his eyes. The blood was running from his nose, dirtying his lips and dripping from his chin. The witch would happily clean it with a spell because the mere sight of it made her feel uncomfortable – not that she was the kind of person who would feel sick by seeing blood, but she didn't enjoy it either – but it would be odd for Alexei or anyone else to walk in and see Riddle without a single drop of blood on his face and shirt after what happened.
"Never," he whispered, looking up to her with his eyes narrowed. His voice sounded dangerous, making the witch take a step back without realizing it. "Never do it again, Elston. Never again point your damn wand at me, no matter what the situation is."
"I just wanted to help..."
"You'll be helping by not repeating this stupid action and by not telling anyone about what happened here today," he said, still staring at her with those cold blue eyes of his. Hermione hadn't noticed until now how odd those eyes were... They seemed to have something that made them look extremely unique, and not in a good way... They were mysterious, seemed to have the power to easily intimidate someone and she felt as if they were slowly manipulating her, dragging her in with the help of an unknown force with the objective of making her drown in their contents. The girl didn't know if whose eyes she feared the most: Voldemort's scarlet and rage-filled ones or Tom Riddle's blue, cold and dangerous ones. "Oh, yes, and, at Hogwarts, no one will hear about the fact we already know each other... Much less about the fact I live in this place, do you understand?" The witch nodded. "I didn't hear you, Elston. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I do."
"Good," he whispered, closing his eyes and rubbing the tip of his nose. "Now it would be good if you unlocked the door, otherwise they'll be suspicious about what we're doing in here."
The witch shook her head and waved her wand at the door, hearing a clicking sound from the lock being opened. As if Riddle had foreseen the arrival of someone, the door opened and Dr. Mazarovsky walked in quickly, holding a bowl filled with ice from what she could see. The man whispered something in a foreign language as he walked up to Tom, putting the bowl down on the gurney behind him.
"You're in trouble, Tom," said Alexei, his accent seemingly increasing due to his jitters. "Mrs. Cole is not happy, not one bit happy..."
"It's not my fault!" The boy whispered as the doctor's fingers closed around his swollen nose. "It was that idiot's idea to..."
"Tom."
"It was Sebastian who decided it would be nice to start a fight." He rolled his eyes. "Mrs. Cole should punish him and not me."
"Not now, Tom, you can talk with her later. Oh, Hermione." The man looked at her quickly. "Thank you for bringing him here."
"No problem..." she whispered. "Is he alright?"
The boy narrowed his eyes when he noticed the lie coming from her lips while watching the doctor examine him.
"He's going to be alright," said Alexei, taking his hand from the other's face. "You have more luck than sense, Tom Riddle... It's incredible how your nose is not broken. I mean, it bled a lot and it's swollen and sensitive, but not broken."
The doctor didn't notice the quick look the two teenagers exchanged while he went over his cabinet to get a piece of white cloth. He wrapped a few ice cubes from the bowl in it, before putting it to the boy's nose.
"Hold it there for a few minutes. Hopefully it'll reduce the swelling." Alexei turned around and looked at the girl who was still standing a few feet away from them. "I guess you can go now, Hermione. Thank you again."
The witch nodded and turned on her heels and walked out, leaving a bloodied Tom Riddle and a worried Dr. Mazarovsky behind.
"I'm going to miss you."
Hermione turned her head, casting a quick glance at her roommate, who was sitting behind her on her bed, brushing her hair. It was the last night she was spending at the orphanage before leaving for Hogwarts in the next morning and, even though she was looking forward to going back to the school, the girl was also feeling a bit sad about leaving the orphanage... During the few weeks she stayed there, Hermione ended up making, if not friends, good acquaitances, not only with the orphans but with the staff. Martha, for example, proved to be a good company, just like her husband... And not to mention Anna, who, she feared, she would miss the most.
"I'll write, don't worry," said the witch, feeling the brush running through her hair. Anna had insisted, since the first day they had met, that Hermione had great hair – the other girl could only laugh at this statement. Her hair was everything but great – and Anna also said that she wanted, one day, to brush it, but the witch insisted on not letting her do so out of fear. The only person who had ever touched her hair was her mother and she was always afraid that, if someone else did, they would fill it with knots. But, since it was her last day there, Granger decided that it wouldn't hurt – much – to grant her roommate that simple wish.
"You better do so!" the red head laughed. "And let me know if Riddle is behaving in school..."
"Oh, Anna, I want to keep a good distance from him there!"
"I see, I think I would do the same if I were you."
Hermione heard the girl put the hairbrush down on the bed and felt her hands holding her hair as if to tie it up on a ponytail, but, instead, she simply ran her fingers through it. It was fun how such a simple act could make her remember the times when she was little and her mother used to do this to her every night... With a hint of sadness the witch remembered that Mrs. Granger, the night before her first trip to Hogwarts, had done the same thing her friend was doing now.
"You have a lovely hair," whispered Anna, smiling. "Don't let anyone put gel in it to make those crazy curls, please."
"Oh, don't worry, I don't think anyone is able to tame it," Hermione laughed. "It'll never stay still in those curls like Mary's."
"You should cut it," mused the head haired girl.
"I beg your pardon? I thought you said it was lovely."
"It is, but I bet it would amazing with a short cut... You would look like Clara Bow!"
"Who?" asked Hermione, seeing the other girl getting up from the bed and kneeling down next to her own, searching for something under it.
"Clara Bow," said Anna, pulling an old shoebox from under the bed and opening it. A few seconds later, she was next to the witch once again, showing a photograph of a young woman with short, curly hair, beautifully expressive dark eyes and a well sculpted mouth.
"You're mad. There's no contest between me and her... She's way more beautiful," said Hermione, holding the photo.
"But you would look good with your hair short like hers." The red head shrugged. "I wish I could cut my hair short like those girls from the twenties, but I think Mrs. Cole would kill me if I did so..."
"Soon you'll turn eighteen." The witch smiled to her. "And then you'll be able to do as you please with your hair."
"Hermione?"
"Yes?"
"Promise me you will write."
Hermione stared at the other for a while before smiling and putting a hand on her arm.
"I promise. I'll write, telling you about my classes and about how Tom Riddle is behaving."
"Now that's more like it!" Anna laughed. "And remember: make your dear friend proud, please."
"Of course I will, Anna, of course I will."
A/N: Now it's corrected :) Beta read by Shadow6116. Now... I love this chapter! I think I have a thing for Tom with a broken nose... Or maybe it's with a really annoyed Tom, I don't know. I don't know if I can say more about this chapter... I guess, for Vicky and Cella (and any other brazilian person reading this... or someone interested in brazilian literature), did you girls recognize something in this chapter? I dunno... A random feature in a certain character that reminds a really famous person in our literature? :D
1- "Now, mind you, I'm not an specialist in human anatomy, so it didn't come out so perfectly correct.": being the HP fan I am... and also a lover of human anatomy, I couldn't help but try to discover which bone Voldemort's wand was shaped after... Only to discover that there's no bone shaped like that of his wand. The closest one may be a humerus (my favourite bone, mind you) but still... that pointy edge on Voldemort's is not from any bone from the human body... So, yeah, Mr. Ollivander had fun creating a shape that reminded him of a bone but that made it easier for the wizard to hold the wand (because, really, out of the wands I have, Voldemort is the easiest to hold. One's finger fits perfectly into it, it's amazing).
2- "Oh, I could swear he had left you with a few missing teeth.": dunno if this is a dentist's kid thing but... My parents are dentists, like Hermione's, and since I was very young I learned that "your teeth are almost the most important thing in your body" so... I pay attention to everyone's teeth and get worried about them. If I see, for example, someone getting hit by a ball on the face, my first thought is "omg their teeth!"... Random stuff is random.
Oh! Yes! I have to share this with you: Gigicerisier on deviantART made a lovely drawing for a scene from last chapter! I completely overreacted once I saw it here: gigicerisier . deviantart art/Guys-I-m-Tomioneer-TomHermione1-302459849
Thanks to everyone who left a review on last chapter, really, you guys are amazing. Reviews on this one are, as always, welcome, I love to see what you're thinking of the story, what is ok, what could be better, what you think that may happen... Anything.