ELVIRA

I watch from the window as the carriages depart. Inside the Ravenclaw tower, it has become so still and quiet that I can hear the birds chirping from outside on the roof. Normally, I love the extra few days I get at the castle, waiting for Dumbledore to finish up his business, but this year, I just want to get back to Godric's Hollow. As unpopular as she'd been, Myrtle's death had shaken the school and shattered the feeling of safety I'd had at Hogwarts up until then. If I could only be as certain as Headmaster Dippet the threat was gone, maybe I'd be able to move on. But as it stands, I can't afford to let my guard down.

In the distance, I spot Hagrid entering his new home - the small hut he was given to stay in after the Ministry snapped his wand and expelled him. Dumbledore had had to fight to let him stay there and it had taken some convincing. The self-righteous Ministry worker had said he was a danger to the school. Headmaster Dippet had worried that parents would pull their children from the school if they knew Hagrid was still living on the grounds. Even half of the professors had argued against the notion, afraid it would set a dangerous precedent. But, true to his nature, Dumbledore had somehow managed to prevail in getting what he wanted.

My great, great, great aunt Bathilda Bagshot has always said Dumbledore was not the kind of person to take no for an answer. She would know. She's known him since he was not much older than I am.

Apparently, though, there are limits even to Dumbledore's powers of persuasion. Despite the heaping pile of circumstantial evidence I'd presented him with that the monster that had killed Myrtle was an ancient basilisk Slytherin had put in the Chamber of Secrets, and not a pet spider, he'd been unable to convince Headmaster Dippet or the Ministry of Hagrid's innocence. They had insisted the Chamber of Secrets was a myth and that the far more likely explanation was that Hagrid's acromantula was responsible for Myrtle's death. They'd said it would be irresponsible to fruitlessly search for an imaginary chamber when the problem had been solved and the attacks had ended.

In light of this great loss, the hut could only be regarded as a rather sad consolation prize. Looking at it frustrates me but also scares me, because I know, with a certainty deep in my bones, that the monster that killed Myrtle is still out there.

An owl nearly flies into my face, jolting me out of my reverie. I hold out my arm and Quill lands on it, a little letter in his beak. Speak of the devil, I think, as I take the letter out of Quill's beak and open it.

Change of plans. We'll be leaving tonight. I've let your aunt know. She says she's going to have a stew prepared for when we arrive.

Tonight? I feel my heart leap with joy at the prospect of getting home sooner even as I don't understand why Dumbledore is suddenly in such a rush to leave. I fold up the letter and feel my stomach growl. I'd skipped breakfast, choosing to stay up in the dorm to help my roommates pack last minute items and say goodbye and now I'm starving. I make my way down to the Great Hall, finding it nearly empty. They haven't yet taken away the four long tables and so I sit at the Ravenclaw table alone, pouring myself some milk, when I realize I'm not the only student here.

Tom Riddle walks back down from the professors' table, where he had been speaking to Slughorn, and goes to sit at the Slytherin table. I stare at him until he notices my gaze and then quickly look away. Why Tom Riddle, of all people, should still be at Hogwarts is a mystery to me.

I can't help but wonder though, if it's somehow related to Hagrid's expulsion. After all, it was his accusation that landed Hagrid in trouble in the first place. Whether he'd meant to or not, he had gotten an innocent boy expelled and, for this, I can't help but resent him a bit.

I hear a chair scrape and see Tom stand up and leave the Great Hall, leaving his food half uneaten. I look back down at my own plate, wondering why anyone would ever leave a shepherd's pie untouched.

TOM

My new "guardian" is waiting for me down by the carriage, his hand resting on top of the half-open door. The thestrals shake their heads and stamp their feet impatiently, eager as always to carry me away from the only home I've ever known.

"You can see them, can't you?" Dumbledore asks. Is this some kind of underhanded way to get me to admit I killed Myrtle? If so, it lacks validity because I could see the thestrals long before Myrtle's death. I can't even remember who I saw die but it must have been some child at the orphanage or maybe it was my mother. I will probably never know.

"Can you?" I reply, evading the question.

"Unfortunately yes." He replies, with a small smile, pulling the door open for me.

I climb into the carriage despite the fact that every bone in my body protests against it and Dumbledore closes the door behind me. He goes around to the other side and then slides in next to me. I sit still as a statue, wondering if should have let the basilisk out on Dumbledore and been done with it.

We sit there in silence and, when it stretches on too long, I turn to Dumbledore in confusion. "Are we not leaving, sir?"

"We're waiting for someone." Dumbledore replies, and I frown.

"Who?" I ask, but then the carriage door opens and the Ravenclaw prefect I'd seen in the Great Hall earlier today is staring at down at me. By the look on her face, I can tell she didn't know I'd be in the carriage any more than I knew she'd be joining us. I don't think I've ever talked to her in my life and I wrack my brain for her name. Lynn. Elvira Lynn, that was it. I think.

"Ah there she is." Dumbledore says, as the Ravenclaw looks past me towards Dumbledore, a question mark written all over her face. "Tom, Elvira will be joining us. She lives in Godric's Hollow in the house next to mine with her great great great aunt Bathilda Bagshot. I usually take her home with me rather than put her aunt through the trouble of going all the way to London."

I blink in confusion as Elvira climbs over me, pulls the door shut, and then takes a seat in front of me, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Are you going to Godric's Hollow too?" Elvira asks, and I look at Dumbledore. He hasn't told her, clearly.

"I've adopted Tom." Dumbledore says, and I watch Elvira try to hide the shock that fills her face. She glances furtively at me and then back at Dumbledore in utter disbelief. The carriage takes off with a jolt.

"When?" She asks. A worthy question. Almost as worthy as why.

"A few days ago." Dumbledore says. "Sorry for not letting you know sooner. These past few days have been busy."

Elvira finally dares look at me, but I can tell she doesn't know what to say. "Congratulations?" She tries, and I would find her pitiful attempt funny if I weren't stuck in a carriage ride to hell.

"You make it sound as if I've won a prize." I reply, and I can see Dumbledore smirking ever so slightly. The bastard.

Elvira glances at Dumbledore and then back at me. "You might have." She says, and I bite the inside of my mouth to keep my true emotions off my face as I force a smile.

"Isn't she sweet?" Dumbledore says. I want to throw up in my mouth.

"Perhaps you should have been sorted into Hufflepuff." I reply.

"She has too much of her great great great aunt in her." Dumbledore says, with a wink. "She's spent more time than anyone else reading Bathilda's notes and ramblings. Then again, there isn't too much to do in Godric's Hollow."

"Why do you live there then?" I ask.

"It's my family home." Dumbledore replies. "And it's nice to be around other wizards. Were you aware many of your classmates live in Godric's Hollow?"

I turn to look at him. "Gryffindors no doubt?"

"Mostly." He admits. "But there are the odd Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff."

"No Slytherins then." I say. Of course I already know the answer to this question. Most of my housemates live in their own private estates, passed down through the generations from their noble pure blood ancestors. The pretentious brats.

Dumbledore gives me a knowing smile and I bite my tongue and look away. He is way too happy about taking me to a place where I will be isolated from my housemates.

The carriage grinds to a halt and I am relieved to get out of the stuffy box. I walk towards the train station when the Ravenclaw stops me. "We take the floo network home." She says, and I turn back to look at her. For the first time since Dumbledore announced he'd basically bought me, I feel a small modicum of relief. I had been dreading the 10h train journey I had thought lay ahead. Why the floo network wasn't used in place of the entire Hogwarts express I had never understood. I had even asked once and been told the reason was something about student equality or camaraderie or something equally as foolish.

We follow Dumbledore into the Three Broomsticks, waiting as Dumbledore chats with the barkeeper before finally leading us over to the fireplace. He turns to Elvira and holds out the floor powder. She dips into the fireplace and throws the powder on the ground.

"45 Adeline Road." Elvira says, before disappearing.

Dumbledore turns to me and holds out the pouch. I stare at him, the fact that he is making me go before him but after Elvira not lost on me. He does not trust me; never has.

"Why are you really doing this?" I ask. I just want him to be honest for once in his life.

"Doing what?" He asks, feigning innocence.

"Adopting me." I say.

Dumbledore looks me over, and for a moment I feel all pretense is gone between us. "Quite frankly because I'm worried about you, Tom."

Never mind. The pretense is still firmly in place. "Why?" I ask.

The professor fixes me with that look he reserves just for me. "Have you ever wanted to be adopted?"

"You didn't answer my question." I reply, peeved.

"Answer mine and you'll get the answer to your question." Dumbledore replies.

I bite back the rude reply I would like to give him. "Doesn't every child want to be adopted?" Two can play at this game.

"But you're not every child, are you, Tom?" Dumbledore replies.

"I don't know what you mean, sir." I lie, struggling to keep my tone even.

"Mrs. Cole told me you never wanted to even speak to the prospective parents who came to the orphanage." Dumbledore says. That crazy bat. She never could keep her mouth shut.

"They were Muggles." I reply. "They wouldn't have...known what to do with me."

"Is that the only reason?" Dumbledore asks, and I narrow my eyes.

"What are you getting at, Professor?" I ask. I have had enough of this interrogation.

Dumbledore looks me over and I fight to keep my anger from showing on my face. After a moment, he looks down at the floo powder in his hands. "Apparently nothing good. We had better get going or Elvira and Bathilda are going to think we're having a butterbeer."

I stare at him, infuriated beyond belief. He extends the floo powder to me and I glare at it in silence for a moment before finally giving in and taking it.

"We wouldn't want that." I reply under my breath.