Doesn't count

Chapter 1

There is, after all, strength in numbers. But the element of surprise and stealth is often compromised with larger groups. Hermione's solution is effective, given its simplicity. Firstly, she assigns roles: a primary operative, a shadow, and a distant observer. The primary moves freely, seemingly alone, while the shadow trails discreetly, ready to intervene if needed. The distant observer, positioned strategically, maintains an overview of the situation, coordinating via subtle signals or encrypted communications.

This system allows her team to blend seamlessly into London's bustling crowds while maintaining constant vigilance and control. 

Yet, even with these precautions, she's acutely aware of the risks. This seedy part of town, abounding with both opportunity and danger, is a constant reminder of why her small, tightly-knit group must remain ever vigilant. Their survival and success depend on it. And time is of the essence; if Mrs. Cole catches wind of their little escapades or if they return visibly more beaten up—well, more than before anyway—or worse, missing, she'll be thrown into the cellar.

It was not like she was the matron's favorite to begin with. She was stubborn and swore a lot, too stuck-up and a know-it-all, disobedient, a habitual rulebreaker, and she could not forget: a regular at the cellars. But her palpable distaste for Hermione seemed to climb new heights ever since peculiar events started to happen three years ago. At first, it was small, explainable things like objects slightly moving away from her or things previously bolted shut coming soaring open, to frighteningly gobsmacking occurrences like the train of her dress catching on fire on otherwise wet flooring or lights shining from the girl's room without a light source to compensate. And these episodes seemed all too convenient for Hermione.

In Mrs. Cole's twisted mind, Hermione was a festering wound, infecting the very foundations of the orphanage. Evidence mounted against the girl like a tidal wave, each incident more damning than the last. Her uncanny ability to be in the wrong place at the right time, her inscrutable motives, her peculiar circumstances, and those mercurial moods that seemed to coincide with inexplicable events.

'Dear God,' Mrs. Cole's thoughts churned, a maelstrom of bitterness and fear. 'I begged, I pleaded on my knees that we'd never see another abomination like Tom darken these doors. That... that demon child. He nearly drove me to my grave.'

Her gnarled hands clenched involuntarily, knuckles whitening as she recalled Tom's angelic face, a mask for the monster within. 'Perhaps I was too soft, too easily swayed by those beguiling eyes. If it weren't for that charming face, I would've bashed his skull in a long time ago and ended his demonic spree.'

A shudder ran through her, equal parts revulsion at the thought and regret at her inaction. But then her eyes narrowed, focusing on the bushy-haired girl who now prowled the halls of her domain.

'No,' she thought, a cruel smile twisting her features. 'This time, I won't be fooled. This time, I'll nip it in the bud.'

As she watched Hermione from the shadows, Mrs. Cole's sneer deepened, a predatory gleam in her eye. She would not make the same mistake twice. This time, she would be ready. This time, she would win.

***

Hermione wandered around the park with Michael. She supposed being acquainted with him wasn't all that bothersome. He was gullible and easily swayed, not to mention surprisingly cooperative with her. Even when she laughed outright at his face earlier, he didn't hesitate to gossip about his parents' marital problems or how he bragged about his nan giving him extra pocket money whenever he visited and where exactly he kept those savings.