the hogwarts express
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It wasn't a nice and warm summer day when Hermione saw herself leaving the orphanage in order to take the Hogwarts Express. Rain poured down on London as Mr. McMillan, another man from the orphanage's staff, drove her and Riddle to King's Cross Station. Hermione spent the whole drive in silence, just like Tom, who didn't tear his eyes from the window until they reached the station.
"Here we are," Mr. McMillan said as he pulled in front of the station. "You better go quickly, otherwise you'll be soaked." The boy nodded, opening the car's door and stepping out. Hermione followed, whispering a quick 'good-bye' to the driver. As she struggled to get her trunk out of the car, the witch saw Riddle already walking away from her. "Oi, Tom! Be a gentleman and help the young lady here!" She heard McMillan shouting and laughed quietly as she finally managed to get her stuff from the car. The thought of Tom Riddle acting like a gentleman toward her was hilarious in her mind.
"Don't worry, sir," the girl said, finally walking away quickly from the car and waving to the man. "I've got it already!"
Tom Riddle, even though he didn't bother to walk back into the rain to help her, at least stopped and waited for the girl to catch up with him – but only once he was already into the station and not being soaked by the cold rain. As always, he looked positively annoyed with the fact he had to wait and guide her – after all, the boy believed she was a new student, someone who knew nothing about Hogwarts or about how to get to it – and simply muttered a irritated 'come on' before walking again, now heading to Platforms 9 and 10.
"Funny that we have to go by train," she said quietly, remembering how her father joked about the fact that a school of magic used trains as transport. The only response she got from Riddle was a deep breath and a eye roll. "Anyway, what's our platform?"
"Nine and three quarters," explained Tom, finally stopping in front of the wall between Platforms 9 and 10. "Run into it."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Run into the wall and you'll be on our platform," he said. "Look, the train leaves at eleven o'clock and we're almost late, so if you could please just run into the wall..."
"Calm down! It's just that it's not every day someone asks me to run straight into a brick wall." Hermione chuckled and did as the boy had told her, as she had done so many times before.
A good feeling spread through her body when she saw herself standing in the middle of the familiar Platform 9 ¾. If it wasn't for a few details, the girl could swear she was back in her own time, heading to meet Harry and Ron inside the train... The crowd of students and relatives saying their farewells were the same, the structure of the platform was the same and the fuming and bright red Hogwarts Express was the same one she remembered from the future. The witch smiled as a couple of what seemed to be first years walked past her, running to the train, giggling and talking, and walked alongside the locomotive, looking for an empty compartment. Before she could find one though, Hermione felt a grip on her arm and, startled, turned around to find Tom Riddle pulling her away from the Hogwarts Express.
"What?"
"I have some things to talk about with you before you enter that train," he whispered, finally stopping when they reached a corner on the other side of the platform. "Remember what I told you at the orphanage? You do not know me, alright?" the wizard asked, locking his blue eyes with her brown ones. "Alright! ?"
"Yes, yes, alright, I don't know you." The girl rolled her eyes. "What else should I know before being allowed to take a seat in the train?"
"Professor Dippet wrote to me a few days ago and asked me to tell you that Professor Dumbledore will be waiting for you at Hogsmeade station. You'll go to the castle with him and will be sorted before the first years. So, once we get to Hogsmeade, you won't go with the students in our year, but will look for Dumbledore."
"Okay... Is that all?"
"Yes, that's all."
"Then... Thank you, Mr. Riddle, for being so kind and showing me the way to the platform." She smiled sarcastically and bowed her head a little. The boy simply sighed before walking away. Had Ron had seen her, he would've been proud; after all, it's not like everyone has the chance to mock the Dark Lord himself.
Letting her thoughts about her friends go back to her subconscious, the witch approached the red locomotive once again, scanning its compartments and, after a few minutes of searching with no results, decided to try one that was already occupied.
"Excuse me?" asked Hermione, knocking on the door to a random compartment and opening it. There was a boy and a girl inside; both of them seemed to be seventeen and were now staring at her. The wizard had dark brown hair, just like his eyes, and was occupied with showing off a tiny figurine of what seemed to be a little Quidditch player that kept flying in circles above his hand. The witch also had brown hair that was tied up in a long plait, and dark blue eyes that carefully watched the newcomer behind square glasses. "Can I sit here?"
"Of course, darling." The boy smiled, waving his hand and making the figurine fly away, before pointing to the seat next to the other girl. "Here, let me help you with your trunk."
"Thank you," Hermione said as the other put her trunk away.
"Hello there... I've never seen you at Hogwarts before," the other witch said, narrowing her eyes as she watched Hermione sit down next to her.
"Come on, Minnie, there are tons of students in Hogwarts. I bet that not even the teachers remember all of them." The boy laughed, sitting back in his place.
"She's right, actually. I'm not... This is the first time I'm going to Hogwarts."
"What?" the wizard gapped at her, before turning to the other girl, who was looking at him with an 'I told you so' expression on her face. "Don't look at me like that, Minnie."
"First time at Hogwarts?" 'Minnie' asked, smiling at her. "That's quite unexpected... I've never seen someone starting their education at your age."
"I was homeschooled," explained Hermione. "But now I have to attend to Hogwarts due to some... issues in my family. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself before: I'm Hermione G..." the girl had to bite her tongue in order not to give away her real name. She had thought it would be easy to lie about her name, but the 'Granger' always came out almost automatically after her first name every time she was going to introduce herself to someone else. "Elston."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Elston," said the boy, smiling. "I'm Charlus Potter and this is Minerva McGonagall."
Hermione stared at the two friends, gobsmacked. So the teenagers talking to her were none other than her best friend's grandfather and her future Transfiguration professor... Since she had found Tom Riddle and Ollivander, the witch had considered the idea of finding more people she knew from her time, but Harry's relatives and McGonagall were two people she had completely forgotten about.
"Are you alright?" Charlus' voice took her out of her thoughts.
"Yes, I'm alright..." She shook her head, ignoring the suspicious look Minerva shot at her. "Mind if I ask you which houses you two are in? I've been reading about the houses, you see."
"We're both in Gryffindor," he answered. "Minnie is our Prefect and I'm the captain of our Quidditch team."
"I'm also in the team, but I'm only a Chaser, no nice titles like Charlus here." McGonagall laughed, kicking her friend's leg lightly. "Do you play it?"
"Quidditch? Oh, no." Hermione giggled, nervously. "I do enjoy watching it, but I'm not really fond of flying."
"I swear I cannot understand people who say they're not fond of flying," said the other Gryffindor girl, leaning towards the window as the locomotive started moving. "Flying is the closest thing to freedom one will ever get... Charlus, your mum is over there trying to call you."
"She's right, you know? About flying and freedom," said Potter, raising his hand and waving good-bye to someone; his mother, most likely. "I bet you simply didn't have someone good enough to teach you how to do it, otherwise you'd love flying..."
"It's not like that, Charlus. We all had our first classes in Hogwarts with Mr. Samaliot and, well, you remember what happened to some people." Minerva laughed, covering her mouth with her hand and shaking her head. "Thing is, we can't force her into learning to fly if she's not made for it. But at least she enjoys watching Quidditch."
"If you get sorted into Gryffindor, you better go take a look at us down on the pitch," said Charlus, smiling. "I promise you Minnie here will give you with a nice show..."
"Shut up." McGonagall rolled her eyes, but the playful smile never left her thin lips. "Now, Hermione, do you have any idea which house you'll be in?"
When Tom Riddle was released from the quick and boring reunion he had with the girl who would, along with him, take the post of Head Student of Hogwarts, he wished he could simply find a quiet and empty place to sit down and read during the whole trip to Hogsmeade. Unfortunately, all of the compartments were now occupied, and the least horrible place he could take was among his housemates. The boy walked across the train, stopping only for a couple of seconds when he found the compartment where Hermione Elston was in, along with that Potter boy and Minerva McGonagall, before heading back to the place where he knew the other boys from Slytherin would be in.
"Look who finally showed up!" The way too cheerful voice of Canopus Lestrange said as soon as he opened the door and stepped in. "Thought you wouldn't come to join us now that you're Head Boy."
The boy didn't say anything but sat down next to a blonde boy who was busy reading a dark red book while trying to keep what seemed to be a huge, white ball of fur on his lap still. "What is that, Abraxas?" asked Tom, eyeing the thing.
"It's a Jarvey," the Slytherin said, putting his book aside and grabbing the creature, lifting it. Now that Riddle could take a better look at it, it looked like an overgrown ferret that seemed to be sneering at him. "People call them 'talking ferrets' too..."
"It's a bit too big to be mistaken as a ferret." The boy scowled at the animal, who returned the expression.
"Midget!" a low and hoarse voice escaped from the Jarvey's tiny mouth and it sneered once again. Tom furrowed his brows and felt his cheeks burn as the urge to get rid of Malfoy's new eccentric pet rose inside himself, especially when he heard Lestrange stifle a laugh when the animal kept baring his teeth at the other.
"Ignore it, Tom," said Abraxas, putting the creature on his lap again and petting its head. "His vocabulary consists of insults and nothing more."
"Why the hell did you get this thing?" asked Riddle, crossing his arms in front of his chest and sighing.
"Come on, it's interesting!" beamed the blond. "I'm hoping to make it learn nicer things to say... I mean, ever since I got here, he already called me an 'albino peacock' and Canopus an arse. It would be nice having him to say something a bit more polite."
This time it was Tom's turn to keep himself from laughing, while thanking God for the fact he would now have a room of his own in the Head's Dorm at Hogwarts; otherwise he would have to stand a whole school year with that stupid talking ferret running up and down everyone's bed and calling him names... Although he wouldn't be there, the mere thought of having his housemates' lives being perturbed by that creature was enough to make him laugh.
"You better keep that thing under control, Abraxas," said Canopus Lestrange, eyeing the strange creature."I don't want to wake up with that thing on my bed and, if I do, I'll make sure it won't have time to say anything to me."
"You won't have to do anything to him." Abraxas gave his friend a quick glance before looking down at the animal and petting its head. The Jarvey made a weird sound before curling up into a ball, cuddling against his owner. Malfoy smiled and kept his attention on his pet while the other boys seemed to forget about it.
"Have any of you seen Alphard?" Avery asked.
"I saw him talking a group of Ravenclaws when I came here," said Canopus, shrugging. "You know Black is slowly drifting away from us." The boy looked up to Tom, who remained in silence. "Last year he spent most of his time with those Ravenclaws... If I'm not wrong, there's even a Mudblood amongst them, something Peters... It must be a really Muggle-ish name for it to slip my attention like that."
Riddle moved uncomfortably on the seat. He knew who the other was talking about... It was a tall, auburn haired Ravenclaw boy whose face was covered with freckles. Tom always remembered him because of the fact they shared a name and the Slytherin had always hated it when he discovered someone else who had the same name as him. And that was the case of Tommy Peters, the Mudblood boy about whom Lestrange was talking about. A Mudblood with an incredibly Muggle-ish name.
"Alphard was never truly useful anyway," murmured Tom. "He won't be a great loss."
"Yes, but he could..." Avery stopped talking as he saw the smaller Slytherin pick up his wand from his pocket and wave it at their compartment's door.
"Black may be way too ethical to follow up with us, but he's not stupid. He knows what we're capable of and knows what we can do to him in case he decides to open up his mouth." Riddle smiled softly at them before sighing. "Also, he never knew too much about our plans... I mean, he wasn't present at all of our meeting, nor did I let him know about some important stuff."
"I remember you said you didn't trust him," Abraxas said, finally looking up from his Jarvey. "Never understood why... I mean, Al is trustworthy and is a Black."
"He's trustworthy, indeed, and that's why I don't worry much about having him telling anyone about us," said Tom. "But, as I said, he didn't follow up with our ideas... It was clear since the beginning." The boy took a deep breath and looked at the others. He loved how they stared at him in awe when he managed to prove his thoughts about someone else to others. Riddle had never told any of them about the fact he had been studying the art of Legilimency ever since his fourth year and that, by now, he considered himself to be pretty good at it... And that was the reason he, most of the time, was right about people. A quick look into their minds and he knew almost everything about them. Until now, he could count on his fingers the number of people against whom his Legilimency had failed… Two.
"There you are, darling, already looking like a Hogwarts' student!"
Hermione laughed at Charlus' remark. She was a Hogwarts student already, but still, she was feeling as if she was a first year again. The same excitement of stepping into the castle for the first time was building up inside herself once again as the train approached Hogsmeade station. The girl closed the compartment's door behind herself and sat down next to McGonagall, who was also already wearing her uniform.
"Alright, we're almost there." This time it was Minerva who spoke, pointing out of the window to a few tiny lights that could be seen near the horizon. "Look, Hermione, that's Hogsmeade."
The locomotive began to slow its pace as it approached the lights, and now they could actually see part of the small village. Hermione smiled, feeling a warm sensation grow in her as the train finally stopped at the station.
"That's it," said Charlus, smirking while getting up and helping the girls with their trunks. "Welcome to Hogsmeade, Ms. Elston. It'll be your last stop before Hogwarts."
The three of them left their compartment and, after a few minutes of being trapped in the train's corridor due to the crowd of students that were now trying to leave the Hogwarts Express, finally stepped down onto the station. It was just as Hermione had remembered it... Older students gathering with their friends in order to get to their carriages as soon as possible, while first years were clustered in the middle of the place, waiting for someone to give them instructions on what to do. As she walked past the groups of students, Hermione saw, standing near one of the benches of the platform, Albus Dumbledore. He now wore long, purple robes, along with a hat of the same color, which made him look even more eccentric due to the mixture of his beard's auburn color and the purple from his clothes. Smiling, the girl walked up to him after waving a quick good-bye to Charlus and Minerva.
"Professor..."
"Ms. Elston," said the wizard, putting his hand on her shoulder and smiling. "It's good to see you here." Dumbledore started walking, guiding her across the station. "I hope everything went well during the trip from London."
"Yes, Professor," she answered as the teacher opened a door and entered. Hermione had never spent much time at Hogsmeade Station, so she never would have guessed that there was a cozy little room (most likely used by the station's workers) in it. It looked like Gryffindor's common room, all decorated with warm colors.
"We'll get to Hogwarts via the floo network," explained the man, pointing at the lit fireplace. "The first years will be going by boat, but Professor Dippet wants to sort you before them, so we'll have to get there first." Dumbledore winked, extending his hand to grab a handful of Floo powder from a pot on the top of the fireplace, and then motioned for her to do the same. "Just say 'Professor Dippet's office.' I'll be right behind you."
Hermione nodded, walking up to the fireplace and grabbing some Floo powder. She threw it into the yellowish flames, and when they turned into an unusual shade of green, she stepped into the fireplace. After using Floo powder a few times before, the girl was already used with the ticklishness she felt from standing inside the flames, and the dust entering her airways as she spoke her desired destination, but she had never gotten used to the sensation of traveling through the Floo network. It was almost like Apparating, but the feeling of being trapped inside the walls of a chimney was almost agonizing... So it was with a great relief that the witch noticed, after a few seconds, she was standing in a new fireplace, this one in a much bigger and more organized room that she recognized as the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.
"Ah, Ms Elston, I believe." Hermione turned her head, seeing an elderly man approaching her. He was wearing a wine colored robe with a few golden details in it, like the belt around his waist, and a pointed hat of the same color that left a few tuffs of white hair showing from under it. His dark eyes were narrowed, as if his sight was not the best in the world, and his mouth was pressed in a somewhat welcoming smile. "I'm Professor Dippet, Headmaster of Hogwarts."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor." The girl stepped out of the fireplace, grimacing as she noticed her shoes were leaving a trail of dark spots on the stone floor.
"Don't worry about it, young lady," said Dippet, waving his hand and motioning her to approach his table, which he sat down behind. The sound of a fire being lighted invaded the room and Hermione knew that it was Dumbledore arriving through the fireplace. "You must know that entering Hogwarts at your age is not usual..."
"Yes, Professor."
"But, given the circumstances, the best thing we can do for you is to let you study here, not only because you deserve education, Ms. Elston, but because you deserve safety," the Headmaster said, looking up to her with what seemed to be a sad face. "The Muggle world is at war and it is not good for someone like us to be caught in the middle of their fight."
Hermione nodded, and looked up to see that Dumbledore was now standing by her side, holding an old, brown hat in his hands.
"Now, if you please, Ms. Elston." Dippet pointed to a chair in front of his table. The girl quickly sat down. "As you must know, here at Hogwarts, our students are divided into four houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. To be placed in each of them, they go through a sorting process at their first night in the school, and that's what we're going to do now... Albus, please."
As she expected, her teacher placed the hat on her head and, quickly, it fell over her eyes, making her sight go dark.
"Ah!" The deep voice of the Sorting Hat echoed in her head. "Look at this, what an interesting mind you got here, young lady, really interesting, full of secrets. Oh, do not worry, it's not my duty to reveal them... Now, I could easily put you in both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, my dear. But you are way too brave to be put into Ravenclaw, aren't you…? You'd give your life for others without hesitating and that's why I think you should be in... GRYFFINDOR!"
Hermione smiled and took the hat off, handing it to Dumbledore, who whispered a "congratulations" to her.
"Very well, you've gotten another one, Albus." The Headmaster laughed. "Professor Dumbledore here is the Head of Gryffindor house, you see, so I'll let him explain everything about it, seeing that we still have plenty of time until the other students arrive."
"The Gryffindor common room is located in Gryffindor Tower, and you'll find its entrance on the seventh floor, behind the painting of a lovely lady in pink dress, the Fat Lady. You'll have to tell her the password to be able to enter it. Right now the password is 'Animi Heros'," explained the teacher, while Dippet seemed to disappear inside his own office. The only thing that made the girl notice he was still there was the fact she could hear his voice talking to someone else. "We have a point earning system to stimulate our students... If you do something correctly, you'll earn points to your house, otherwise you'll lose them. At the end of the year, the house with the highest amount of points gets the House Cup. Gryffindor's prefects are Ms. Minerva McGonagall, and Mr. Septimus Weasley. What else can I...? Oh, yes, aside from the prefects from each house, we have a Head Boy and Head Girl. Our Head Boy is Mr. Riddle, from Slytherin, whom you already know, and his partner is Ms. Aella Thorpe, from Ravenclaw..."
The wizard stopped talking as a loud crack echoed inside the office and a small creature with big ears and wide, glassy green eyes wearing nothing but what looked like a pillow case appeared right behind them. It was carrying a neatly folded dark cloak in its tiny hands. A house-elf.
"Professor, Hooky brought what the Headmaster asked for. The uniform for the new student." The elf extended the clothes so the wizard could take them.
"Thank you, Hooky," said Hermione, smiling. The creature blushed – if one considered the darkening of a house-elf skin a blushing, then she blushed – before bowing and leaving. "Thank you, Professor." The girl took the cloak from Dumbledore's hands, unfolding it. It was a typical Gryffindor's cloak: dark with a red collar, and the coat of arms with the lion on its breast. There was also a yellow and golden tie folded in the middle of it.
"You'll receive more of those in your dormitory, Ms. Elston." Dumbledore smiled and winked. "This one is just for you to go to our feast tonight, already dressed as a proper Gryffindor." The witch nodded while she put her new tie on. "Speaking of which... I think we can go down already. The older students must be here by now."
"There she is." Charlus Potter stretched his neck to look at whom Minerva was pointing to. "And, look, a Gryffindor!"
"You did it, my dear Hermione." Potter smiled, tapping the empty spot next to him on the bench on Gryffindor's table. "You entered our lovely house."
"Congratulations, Hermione," said McGonagall, smiling.
"Did I miss the sorting?" the girl asked, sitting down next to Charlus.
"Nope, the first years didn't even arrive yet... Oh, speaking of them..." The boy motioned to the Great Hall's doors, which were now opening, opening the path for a group of first years led by Dumbledore. All the new kids seemed to be fascinated by Hogwarts' magical atmosphere as they looked around with wide eyes and open mouths. A few of them were already looking up to the enchanted ceiling. "Oh, yes, did you see it, Hermione?" Potter looked up. "Everyone who first steps into Hogwarts gets amazed by it."
"Oh, wow!" The girl laughed, faking a surprised reaction as she looked at the ceiling, which was now showing a beautiful starry night sky. "How...?"
"It's a pretty simple illusion spell," said Minerva. "You have to see it when it's snowing outside..."
Hermione looked back to the first years, who were already at the front of the Great Hall and were now listening to Dippet's speech. After a few words from the Headmaster, Dumbledore stepped forward to begin the Sorting Ceremony. It went exactly like she would remember it... New students getting nervous over being sorted, the Hat was shouting their new houses, and their new housemates were cheering over their new little friends. After all of the children were sorted, Dippet was now up for another speech, talking about the war and about how safe they would be inside the castle... And, to Hermione's discomfort, finishing it by mentioning her.
"This year we also have a special case for a... transferred student," said the Headmaster, looking at Gryffindor's table. "Ms. Hermione Elston will be, from now on, attending our school due to a series of events that happened in her life. Ms Elston was sorted into Gryffindor house earlier this evening and will be a seventh year. I hope all of you," The wizard's face turned serious as he looked around the hall. "Make sure that our new student will enjoy our school as much as you do... Oh, I believe that was everything I needed to inform you about. Now, I hope you enjoy our feast."
As soon as he stopped speaking, trays of food appeared on the tables, and the students broke the silence, starting to speak loudly. Hermione smiled, noticing how much she had missed that cozy atmosphere of Hogwarts.
"Hey, Hermione," Minerva called her. "Let me introduce you to the rest of our year... This ginger here is Septimus Weasley." She pointed to a red haired boy sitting next to her. He had green eyes, and his freckled face and long nose reminded her very much of Ron. Oh, well... It was obvious that Septimus would remind her of her friend; after all, he was Ron's grandfather. "Those two over there are Basil Hopkins and Hector Spinnet." She motioned to a boy with curly, dark brown hair and a blonde whose front teeth seemed to be a little bit too big for his mouth. "George Johnson." A handsome dark skinned boy who was talking with a red haired girl whose wavy hair went down to her waist. "The red head is Florence Amello... Ah, and that's Selina Merrick." A pretty girl with dark hair and dark blue eyes whose hair was perfectly combed in the best 1940s style. "Cecilia Wyght." A girl with a freckled face, and copper hair held in a long braid. "And Emma Hooper." An olive skinned girl who wore her dark hair in the same 1940s style.
"It'll take some time for me to remember everyone by their names." Hermione laughed, finally noticing the difference from her Hogwarts and this one. There was no Lavender Brown with her huge pink hair ties and silver necklaces, no Parvati Patil with her beliefs in Divination, no Seamus and Dean talking about Quidditch, no Harry being... Well, Harry, and no Ron eating everything as if it was the last meal ever.
"You alright, my dear?"
"Yes, of course, Charlus," she said, shaking her head. "It was nothing."
Atlas Avery kept stretching his neck in order to see the new girl from Gryffindor. Tom Riddle was keeping himself from laughing at the thought of his housemate's reaction as soon as he managed to get a sight of her... Elston was not the most beautiful female in the world, and he knew Avery wanted a gorgeous girl to be the new student from the red and golden house.
"Come on!" Atlas huffed, finally sitting down again. "That's the new girl?"
"You shouldn't judge someone from their appearance, Atlas," Tom said, smiling.
"Shut up, Tom," the boy said. "Look at that... I bet there's a Bowtruckle nest inside that hair."
"That's just mean, Atlas." Lestrange laughed out loud. "Abraxas' mother would want to use her potions to take care of that hair, wouldn't she, Abe?"
"Sure," said Malfoy, laughing along with his friends.
"Does anyone knows if she's a Mudblood?" asked Avery, grimacing as he finally looked down at the food on his plate. "She does look a lot like a Muggle. Tom...?"
"Why would I know if she has Muggle blood or not, Avery?" Riddle spat. He didn't want his housemates to know about the fact that he already knew Hermione from somewhere else... Or better: he didn't want them to know he knew her from the orphanage. "I'm not a seer or anything of the sort."
"Not yet, right?" Canopus gave out a huffed laugh, looking at the smaller boy. "The way you cling to those Divination classes makes me believe you actually want to be one."
"I do not cling to it, Lestrange," said Tom, letting a serious expression show on his face. He believed that he didn't need to be the tough leader all the time, but sometimes he had to assume that position to remind his peers who he was. "I simply don't give up on it like some others."
Canopus took a deep breath and shifted uncomfortably on his seat as he caught himself being the target of Riddle's cold glance. Tom looked down at his now empty plate and smiled. It was extremely good to be able to eat something decent after three months of eating the orphanage's scarce food.
"I'm done here," he said, getting up.
"Already?" asked Abraxas, raising an eyebrow. "By the way you eat, I could swear you starve during the whole summer break."
"I'm just not as slow as you all." The boy shrugged, turning around and leaving the hall, along with a few of the other students who had also already finished their meal.
He had already talked with Dippet about his new dormitory and his duties as Head Boy, so the only thing he had to do was to go to his room and sleep in order to be ready for the first day of his last year at Hogwarts. The Heads' dormitory was located on the third floor, and its entrance was guarded by one of the oddest paintings he had ever seen at Hogwarts. It was the portrait of a young man with dark, curly hair and blue eyes whose face was always a mask of seriousness – alright, not always; sometimes he had a pretty mean look on his handsome face. The man wore a long red tunic that looked like a dress, along with a lot of beaded necklaces around his neck. There was also a white mask showing a smiling woman with what seemed to be a huge tiara on her head, and two long, red braids that he was always holding. In Tom's opinion, the mask was the creepiest thing in the portrait.
"Yes?" the portrait asked him as Riddle stopped in front of him.
"Magna Caput." The man in the painting waved his hand and opened the entrance.
The Heads' quarters were huge, in Tom's point of view. There was what seemed to be a common room with a table, a few cabinets, a dark couch, a fireplace, and a few other things. Everything seemed to be decorated in the colors of Ravenclaw and Slytherin... But that wasn't the best part about the place. The boy hurried to his new room, and smiled when he entered it. It was big, comfortable, and decorated like his old dormitory in the Slytherin dungeon. There was a table for him to study at, a wardrobe – which, he thought, was way too big for him (he didn't even have enough clothes to fill it up) -, an empty bookshelf, and a huge bed. There was also a big window that gave him a great view of the Dark Lake shining under the moonlight.
Tom laughed, letting himself fall onto the bed. Being there, in a comfortable place like that room, made him notice how much he had missed Hogwarts. The castle was welcoming, magical and fascinating, while the orphanage was cold, dull and horrible. Wool's Orphanage only made him notice how he didn't belong into the Muggle world, how he would always be an outcast there, while Hogwarts reminded him that he was welcome in magical society; he was what they needed and what they wanted. Riddle sighed, rolling onto his side and burying his face into the pillow, sniffing it. It didn't smell like mold, like his pillow back in the orphanage.
"You better enjoy this while you can," he whispered to himself. After all, it was his last year at Hogwarts.
As Hermione spent six years sleeping in the same dormitory as Lavender and Parvati, she didn't mind the loud noise of girls chatting at all. Actually, the five girls from the 1940s seventh year managed to be quieter than Brown and Patil put together.
"Dad said we won't be going to Germany this year on Christmas," one of the girls, Florence Amello, said as she brushed her long, red hair. "Because of the wars."
"Oh, those wars." Selina Merrick huffed. "Messing with everyone's lives..."
"I think they're coming to an end," Hermione said quietly, not expecting to be heard by the others.
"Why?" asked Florence, finally putting her brush down and tucking herself into bed.
"I don't know. I just think it won't last." She shrugged. "Everyone involved is already way too tired to keep going for much longer."
"Alright, everyone, I'm turning the lights off!" Minerva called as she hopped into her bed, pointing her wand at the lamp.
"Aw, Minerva, we've been apart during the whole break. Give us have a moment to-" the red haired girl started to say.
"You'll have enough time to talk with each other at morning," said McGonagall, waving her wand gracefully and making the room go dark. "We're all tired from the trip, Florence, and our classes start tomorrow morning..."
"You're no fun, Minerva," someone whose voice Hermione didn't recognize said. Maybe it was Cecilia or Emma. "You're no fun."
"Good night!"
After those last words from McGonagall, the dormitory fell silent. Hermione moved to close the curtains of her bed before lying down, staring at the ceiling. The girl wasn't sure of what she felt at the moment... It was a mixture of safety, (the feeling that only Hogwarts would give her), anxiety and sadness. The fact that she was finally at the school only made the crazy experience she was going through look more real and less like a dream, although the dreamy atmosphere of it all was still there. It was as if she was just waiting for Lavender to walk by her bed, talking loudly, and waking her up. But she knew it wouldn't happen. Hermione knew she would fall asleep in that bed and, by morning, she would wake up with Minerva McGonagall screaming for everyone to wake up and get ready for their classes.
'How did you get yourself into this, Hermione? How?' the girl asked herself, right before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
Minerva was right; after all, she was tired from the trip, for it didn't take more than a few minutes for her to fall asleep.
A/N: I'm finally on my winter break. This semester was though and next is seeming to be even thougher. But, by now, I'm on my break and this means I can write, draw, read, study russian and watch a few surgeries with a doctor friend of mine. Now, on to the chapter... Writing Hogwarts is always kinda difficult, I don't quite know why, maybe it's because I'm afraid of not making it magical enough as I remember reading it. I hope I managed to put its magic in this chapter...
1- Jarvey: as Abraxas said, he's like a giant, talking ferret... that only swears and call people names. About what he called Tom, I always imagine Tom not being as tall as his housemates and rather small, what would contrast with his magical power. As people say, the strongest poisons come in the smallest vials... Or is it the strongest perfume? Whatever, what I know is that the potion Harry needed to drink in Philosopher's Stone in order to get to Voldemort was inside the smallest vial. (x
2- Mr. Samaliot: the name for the Flight teacher came from the russian самолëт (samaliot), which means "airplane".
3- The man in the portrait on the entrance of the Heads' dorms: he's from... somewhere else. I mean, he's not from HP, but he's not from my imagination either. Looking by the description, can you discover who he is? (:
4- Charlus Potter & Minerva McGonagall: I know they're not in Tom's year. And shame on me for not being able to imagine a Tom Riddle-era Hogwarts without the two of them. A few chapters ahead I'll explain how the characters' age and everything is in the story (I'm horrible at Maths but I think I did it all right to explain everyone who would be at Hogwarts by the time).
5- Charlus Potter and his "dears" and "darlings": I have no idea why, but I always had this idea of Charlus calling every girl he meets "my dear" or "darling". Or at least most of them.