Chapter One: Of Fickle Time Traveling and A Non Developed Sociop brat

"She's so small, ma'am," one woman whispered to another as they peered over the small carrier that sat atop the porch. Another woman grimly nodded.

"She is," agreed her companion. Their demeanor turned very solemn as they stared at her. "She looks like she won't last the fall, poor thing." There was a pause as one of them noticed a peculiar object in the carrier with her. "Jill, what's that card near her?" The woman in question knelt down and checked, pulling the card from the swaddled baby. There was slight movement as Jill gently untangled the letter away from the blanket and she froze holding her breath as this action had spurred movement. The child in the carrier shifted, only letting out a soft sigh of relief after a long quiet moment and there was a shared moment of relief. Looking down at her hands, Jill marveled over the feel of the paper, quite surprised at how thick it actually was. A curious baby, indeed she thought to herself, almost marveling at how expensive it felt before opening it. Inside were 2 pieces of card stock, one with a name on one sheet and a birthday on another.

Anticety Rhonwen Graveline.

January 1st, 1926, 6:17am.

Jill gasped as she glanced at the child before again at her companion.

"She's almost 7 months old, Mary," Jill told her companion and they looked at one another, troubled.

"But why is she so small?" Mary questioned and they both looked down at the envelope once more, as if attempting to brainstorm a reason for the lack of growth. They were in their early twenties and had only been working at the orphanage a couple months so wonders like these still were very fickle.

"Regardless of the reason, maybe we ought to take her in before she becomes sick, hm?"

Both women jumped at the new voice, whipping around to face the matron. She was fair with her hair in a tight bun at the top of her head and wore a very pinched look as she observed the two women on the step. Her eyes moved from the workers to the child that was held in their hands.

"…she is small," agreed the matron again, eyes sharp as they took her in completely. "Get her inside now." Her lips were down turned as she watched the two scramble past her.

—-

She wondered what she had done to deserve this. It was a brisk Monday morning in London, too early for the full house to be awake but not early enough for her crib partner to remain asleep. The matrons were making rounds, checking in on each sleeping child and cooing at those who were awake. The orphanage she had been placed into lacked the sufficient amount of cribs to fit the ratio of babies so more often than not, a couple ended up sleeping together and Rhonwen found that she was one of the favorites to move around. Generally she was fine with it. It's not like she had any difficulties sleeping. Sleeping was so much easier than coming to terms with the fact that she was reborn as an orphan. Sleeping was a lot easier than coming to terms with the fact that the name she heard every once in a while was very familiar to a book she had read. Sleep, Rhonwen thought, was a lot easier to stomach than attempting to process and accept the new situation she had found herself in.

Well, it usually was.

It wasn't the fact that she was the problem, it was that the children around her were very active in that they moved quite frequently so her arrangements were constantly changing as they attempted to find a good mesh.

"She's got a very good temperament," one of the nursemaids, Marina said to another as they changed her diaper. She had cried to let them know that she was in need of assistance and they responded right away, rushing to get her to quiet down lest they wanted an entire room of babies screaming. It was like room service except a lot more intimate and smelly. Helpful but she couldn't wait to regain full mobility.

"Has she?" The other looked up in interest. Rhonwen recognized the voice as Amelia.

"Oh yes, she's very quiet. A perfect sleeper too; Barely moves around at all. I was surprised. Haven't had too many of them, I must admit. Usually the babies I've dealt with are much rowdier. It is a nice change however," Marina hummed in amusement.

"She doesn't move around much?"

"Mm hm, I think she quite likes sleep," laughed the woman. "I've put her in with Garrett once, do you remember him? He was the worst at shifting around but the beds had been filled and I couldn't just hold her the whole nice. Well I'll tell you, I placed her down, tucked her in and that was that. He could have been tap dancing and she'd not have cared. Slept through the whole thing, this one."

"Does she cry often?"

"She doesn't! The lass only ever speaks when she needs her nap changed or to eat. She'd have been adopted out already if everyone didn't think she was one gust of away from- well, you kno-"

Her sentence wasn't even finished before the two of them seemed to click. Almost as once they were on the same page.

"Oh! You're right!" gasped the woman. She had a hand on her mouth, looking quite taken back as though the idea was groundbreaking. Rhonwen watched blankly as the two of them stared at her on the dressing table. It was almost like watching a live action skit. She shivered slightly, a bit cold.

"Oh, put her clothes back on, Martha," the other woman said. She was watching her carefully. "We can't take chances with this one."

"Poor little dear," Martha hummed and she was being redressed now. "I'm sorry," the brunette cooed as she swooped her into her arms, rocking her and Rhonwen felt any annoyance she had felt from earlier summer down slightly. Her eyelids felt heavy again and she yawned. The other matron let out a laugh.

"Should we-"

"I mean there's no harm," Rhonwen heard Martha agree before she slowly drifted off to sleep.

——

When she woke up, she automatically knew she had a new crib partner. She could feel him rustling around, moving this way and that and part of her wished he'd just go to sleep because each time he adjusted himself, he moved the blanket with him which wouldn't have been so bad if the house wasn't still slightly chilly. It was another 5 minutes of movement and blanket hogging before she opened her eyes drowsily. Yes, there he was in his obnoxious glory. A very little boy sat sitting up against the bars of his crib, looking around the room for anything of interest with a soft blanket pooled around his legs. She rubbed at her eyes, catching the attention of his deep brown gaze.

She supposed he probably wanted entertainment, something to keep him occupied since sleep wasn't particularly his fix but he'd be disappointed to find out that she was anything but. Grabbing a partial of the blanket, she covered herself up in it once more, turning away and wrapping her arms around the stuffed bunny next to her that was probably placed by one of the matrons. A soft exhale escaped her mouth out of contentedness and she fell back asleep.

Until she felt an arm fall upon her back.

Looking up drowsily, the small girl turned to meet the gaze of her partner once more. He had laid back down again, arm extended over her like she had over her rabbit. Was he mimicking her? But any energy she wanted to muster was far gone. The arm he had thrown was giving off heat and she was warm and relaxed and the room was so quiet it was perfect. She was being lulled to sleep and was on the borders when she heard two sets of footsteps echoing to the doorway of their room.

"Look! I knew they'd get along! Her and Tom are already good friends!" giggled one of the caretakers and Rhonwen's eyes shot open, heart freezing.

Tom? It couldn't be. Tom was a super common name, it's part of the reason Voldemort hated it so much. He didn't want to be common. He didn't like sharing the same name as another. It had to be a coincidence. There were at least 3 other Tom's in the orphanage right now.

"It really is funny how much they have in common. The funny names, the demeanor, even their birthdays are super close! He was born a day before she was," Martha, she recognized, explained to whomever was with her and Rhonwen felt her heart drop. They chittered away, so proud of themselves for their new discovery. Rhonweb still felt ice cold.

Being roomed with the future raging lunatic that would cause two wars was nothing in short but distressing and Rhonwen Graveline was nothing short of teary eyed as she tried to sleep next to the body that could probably turn around and choke her with her own pillow if he was as intelligent as she thought.

She turned her head to stare at him, eyes meeting his own dark brown orbs. The arm that he had laid on her no longer felt warm but rather felt fiery hot against her ice block self. She was looking for any sign of maliciousness, anything at all but all he had carried in his eyes was curiosity. Their eyes stayed together and it made her slightly nervous at how concentrated he was on her.

This went on for a few minutes, with him studying her appearance and her studying him as well before he blew some air from his lips (landing in her face as she scrunched it unwillingly) and went to sleep once more.

Rather than feeling at ease that he hadn't planned her murder yet, Rhonwen's brain was flooded by paranoia. It felt as if she were walking the line. One wrong move, one flutter of an eyelash and this 8 month (or however old he was) baby would try to decapitate her small little soul during her sleep. A reasonable side of her knee that he couldn't even comprehend his ABC's yet much less decapitation but the fear was still very much alive. It was not, however, stronger than the urge to sleep. Why was being awake so tiring? She was having a hard time comprehending it.

She contemplated this concept once more before feeling her eyes droop heavily, finally succumbing to sleep. Her thoughts could dedicate themselves to Tom Riddle's possible assisination attempts later. Maybe he'd be kind and do it in his sleep.