Chapter 16
When Harry was led out from the train station after another loud blaring of the Air Raid Siren (which had him almost whining thinking there was another attack - he was too tried to put up with more right now) but as soon as it was heard everyone began to pack up their belongings and before long the station was emptying, Mrs. Cole was gathering everyone together and ushering them out of the underground and into the daylight they hadn't seen for over twelve hours.
Harry gasped horrified, houses further down had been reduced to rubble, houses close to them, but further from the destroyed homes was also affected, and windows completely smashed in with rubble strewn across the place not all belonging to the homes. He saw children digging around in it, claiming pieces of it for themselves, how could they do that? It was metal they were collecting - scraps from the bomb?
Harry walked as he continued to stare around in shock, there was a woman dressed in some sort of uniform, a long black jacket and shoes, with a black helmet with a W etched on in white paint. When she turned around helping someone who was seriously injured by the look of things he noticed she had a sack on her back that said 'Air Raid Warden' in clear chunky black letters.
A warden, well the name changed in future, since a warden was someone that put tickets on cars in his time. Clearly it was someone who helped injured people in this time, there was more than one warden he noticed as they continued walking back to the orphanage but this was a man, judging by the way he was dressed of course - since he had a gas mask on as well as his helmet.
He couldn't help but shudder, how many people had died that night? What about the family, that's houses, had been destroyed? Where did they go? Were they now homeless during the worst period in history? Sighing softly, what did it matter he thought to himself disgusted, it wasn't as if he could help them in any way.
Just as they left the immediate area and the destruction he noticed that everyone was helping, the adults that had been in the station, they were helping people that had been wounded. Presumably taking them to a hospital of some kind, whether it was an actual hospital or a makeshift one they created to help the wounded in the immediate area he wasn't sure.
He would bet that it was both, but whether they treated only soldiers in the makeshift hospitals or civilians as well, he didn't know. Then Harry noticed something out of the corner of his eye, a shoe, with a foot and bloody leg attached to it. His heart stuttered as he realized it was a child, a child must be stuck under the rubble.
Lurching away from the group, he bolted towards the rubble, his heart pounding heavier than his feet as he made his way over. Weaving through people, ignoring the shouting coming from one of the male workers from the orphanage he would bet.
Once he got there he didn't dare scramble on top of the rubble for fear of hurting whoever was buried beneath. They were bleeding! They were alive whoever it was they were alive! Almost immediately as this penetrated his frantic mind he began to grab and lob the stones in the other direction far away from him but not ending up flinging them at someone else.
"What are you doing? You'll get locked up for the day!" Tom hissed as he finally got to Hadrian. "Just leave the Muggle to their own."
"It's a child, Tom!" Harry spat, "You can hate the adults all you want for not helping but a child has never done you any harm!" finally he lobbed the last bit of rubble away and scooped the child into his arms. His lips were tinged blue, he wasn't going to make it to the hospital, he was badly hurt, and pressing his hand against his chest, one of his ribs was broken.
Harry couldn't let the child die; it wasn't in his nature to stand by when he could do something to prevent it. Glancing around noticing people were coming forward, urgently letting his magic trickle though his hand, and straight into the child's chest, after half a second his breathing evened out and his lips lost some of the deep blue hue.
The rib had snapped into place just as everyone descended upon him, he stood shakily, having had a lot taken out of him by using so much healing magic - he wasn't used to it. He had copied what Yaxley had done to him, but it had worked so he wasn't complaining.
Although one thing had surprised him, the boy had innate magic, he wasn't magical, he didn't have a core, but part of his MOD abilities must allow him this information, he must be a descendant from a magical family, perhaps his father was a squib or mother? Who knew? Either way he'd summarise somewhere down the line he would have a child that was 'Muggle-Born'.
"Well done, son," one of the Air Raid Wardens said softly, "Why don't you give him to me? Everyone else is still waiting for you." he held his hands out but didn't grab the child from the young mans arms.
"GEORGE, OH MY GOD, GEORGE!" sobbed a woman as she came out of a shelter that had been created at some point. Tears were running heavily down her face, her face red, haggard and worn, she had obviously been crying all night but too terrified for her own life to come out of the shelter.
"Calm down," the Air Raid Warden said, "He will be just fine," he was paid to calm everyone down and help those that needed it. "We must get him to a hospital to be checked out Mrs. Granger." the warden pressed a calming soothing hand to her chest, stopping her from grabbing her son and causing him further injury.
Harry froze, his eyes going wide in surprise, his mind connecting to the Muggles for moments, it was enough time for him to understand that this was a descendant of Hector Dagworth-Granger, his son, Hector had obviously abandoned the woman, since he had gone 'missing' one day before she realized she was pregnant.
She loved him so much that she assumed someone had happened to him. The son was all she had left of him, he'd married a muggle, and well that was a surprise. He flashed back to Slughorn asking Granger if she was related to him, and she had said no, she didn't think so, since he was a 'Muggle-born' there was no such thing. Could he have just saved Grangers father...or was it grandfather?
'Yes, it is' Death informed him making an entrance sounding thoroughly amused.
"I saved his life?" Harry murmured, not sure how to feel about that. "But I shouldn't have been here...are you telling he would have died? If he died then Granger wouldn't be born...I don't see how that's possible."
'Your presence here is changing things in small ways you wouldn't normally notice if you were just an average wizard.' Death informed him bluntly.
"So what...he would have died and Granger wouldn't have been born?" Harry asked incredulously. Now that wouldn't have bothered him, it was nothing more than she would deserve. As much as he hated Granger, this was a little boy, he didn't deserve what would have happened to him - but did anyone deserve the fate they were doled out?
'Yes, they're trying to get your attention,' Death murmured quietly, knowing the Young master would need time to process everything.
"HADRIAN!" Tom shouted his face impassive but his dark brown eyes boring into his own were slightly concerned.
"Sorry," Harry said shaking himself out of his thoughts.
"He's in shock, he just needs somewhere warm and peace and quiet for a few hours," the warden said, speaking to one of the workers at the orphanage - whom Harry still didn't know the name of, delicately taking the child from 'Hadrian's' unresisting arms.
Giving the teenager one last concerned look before rushing off with the child and his mother hot on his heels not letting George out of her sight for a second.
"Come, Mr. Peverell," insisted the janitor, guiding the teenager back to the group, without saying anything.
The walk back to the orphanage seemed even longer than it took to get to the station, but he knew that it wasn't possible, they were going in the exact same route as before. They were tired, hungry and he just wanted to sleep - for the others though he wasn't sure but they had slept, he had seen it.
How the hell they'd managed to sleep at a time like that was anyone's guess, he had been bloody terrified, and a lot of the children were younger than him (a lot if you went by his mental age which he didn't) since he felt everything as a teenager would, going through all that again was annoying.
He never thought he'd see the day where he was grateful when he saw the damn orphanage gates, but he was, since it meant he was just that much closer to getting some sleep. That was with an hour or so before lunch and just before Tom arrived in the room, it could have been less or more he wasn't sure.
"I'm not hungry," Harry protested as everyone made for the Dinner hall, although the rumbling of his stomach made sure Tom knew he was lying. He was hungry, but he was tired more - and truthfully dreading what would be served during breakfast.
It wasn't the Orphanages fault; he knew that, I was just how things were here and now. It was all so bland, spices and sugar preserves were rationed, and stretching it out was the only way to have it last longer than a few days.
If there was one thing the orphanage obviously didn't have a shortage of it was food, (before the war) since Tom wasn't in any way malnourished, he was perfectly healthy for a fourteen year old boy.
"You won't get anything until lunch if you don't eat, you can't just come to the kitchens and expect food here." Tom stated as he joined the queue.
"Yes, well I'll be using it as a pillow!" Harry muttered grabbing a tray before Tom could take two and pass him one - again it wasn't his usual behaviour and he was curious. Was the one at Hogwarts a front?
Or was this one a front? Or did he just act different due to the fact he couldn't use his magic? Well, he could, so Harry wasn't sure why he hadn't yet. He was also very cold; he would need to use a warming charm, all night he'd been in that underground shivering in cold.
He had been stupid enough not to bring a pillow and blanket, although honestly, he wasn't sure the blanket would have done anything to help against such coldness.
"You just might," Tom sneered coldly, as a bowl was placed on his tray then on Hadrian's, the look on his face would have had Tom laughing if he too wasn't impressed. A banana was also passed on the tray before they walked over to the table and sat down looking at the 'food' they actually had to consume.
Harry sighed, he just wanted to sleep, but he knew he had to keep his strength up, Merlin help him, he was going to be here for a while he would need all the strength he could gather.
Death had been really quiet before contacting him just ten minutes ago, well he would be, thought Harry wryly, he would bet there were a load of souls to gather every night, everywhere around the world people were dying, not just civilians but soldiers as well as wizards and witches between bloody Hitler and Grindelwald.
To think the wizard across from him had the capacity to be worse, no, not worse, just darker, the Darkest Wizard of all time. Somehow he could see Tom getting smug about that little fact - well if he didn't learn he died to earn the title. Well the food might not be too bad, thought Harry dubiously, as he picked up his spoon and dipped it in his meagre ration of porridge oats.
Pressing it against his lips, he was right, it was bland, but it had some sugar in it, but he would bet it was powdered milk. It just had that waterish taste about it. Like the time where Dudley had poured a little milk into his one glass of water he was 'permitted' during his chores.
He'd forced himself to drink it knowing he would pass out if he didn't. Frowning in irritation, he hated thinking of the Dursley's or anything that reminded him of them.
Tom ate his breakfast without so much as a blink at what he was receiving; each summer had been the same since the war started. Normally the food wasn't too bad, this he would admit with deep loathing and grudgingly so.
Although compared to Hogwarts, all food here was bland, but that's only partly true, the orphanage was run on a budget, even before the war, and couldn't give all of them a three course meal, so obviously Hogwarts would win in the food department.
Well in all departments really, but of course it was magic so it always will. Hadrian was a bit of a mystery, and he hoped over the summer he would figure him out completely. He suspected whatever he would find out would truly surprise him for the first time in his life.
Nothing ever had, he had known he was special, even before Dumbledore came here to inform him he was a wizard. How he was a Slytherin was a bit of a mystery, since he went out of his way to help people, like that Muggle he thought with distain.
Harry absently picked up his banana and peeled of the skin, and ate it, it was surprisingly fresh. It only took the edge of the hunger rumbling in his stomach. He should be used to this, but he wasn't anymore. He hadn't missed any meals even on the run from everyone he had thought was on his side.
Four years, he thought morosely, it had been difficult but he had been good at what he did. "So, what do you normally do during the day?" Harry asked absently, peering at Tom curiously, wondering if he would say anything - or if he actually stayed in his room.
"Sometimes I wander around London, other times I read." Tom revealed coolly.
Oh, he so didn't want to talk about it thought Harry, he hadn't used that tone on him since they'd gotten here. Which felt a lot longer than it had been in reality, it wasn't even twenty-four hours. Muffling a yawn, he stood up and once again put the tray on the table - none of the food had been wasted he had eaten it - it was better than nothing and even he knew that.
As always as of late Tom was right next to him, and always made it seem as if he was leading, not following, he would have found it funny but it was just such a Tom thing to do. That and he was too tired to do much of anything, even yawning was more work than it was worth.
"Why did you look so stunned earlier?" Tom asked the very second he closed the door to their bedroom, now that was an odd thought; nobody had ever roomed with him. He knew it was because they were worried for the other orphans having to room with him due to his nature. Unfortunately they'd had no option with the war and children being orphanage.
"M' too tired Tom," Harry murmured sliding into his bed, his bag dropping from his aching shoulders.
"Can I at least see the book?" Tom snipped in annoyance at his questions not getting answered. He had a feeling they wouldn't be either, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He would rather that than being told a pack of lies, but he wasn't used to people not telling him things he wanted. It was causing quite a dilemma in the dark wizard.
Normally it would cause him to hurt them until he got an answer, yet he didn't want to do that to Hadrian, although he still wanted an explanation...how odd. How else did one normally go about receiving answers to their questions if you didn't do that?
Harry groaned, as he literally forced himself to sit back up, grabbing his bag he removed his trunk and made it its normal size and dug to the bottom where he was keeping it, wrapped in his invisibility cloak. Shifting things about he pulled it out, and handed it over, pulling the trunk to the bottom of his bed he shoved the bag under the bed once more before slumping down, as soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light. It was only day one and it had been hell of a day.
Watched humanity strengthen itself against an enemy that wanted them dead. Saw true fear in Tom's eyes, letting him see perhaps why the wizard in the question wanted to make himself immortal having to return to a war infested world. Saved Grangers grandfather or father, Merlin that was enough to blow his mind. He rather hoped not all days were like this one. To make matters worse Tom was beginning to suspect already...and with that Harry's mind went blank as unconscious claimed him - his weary, tired body succumbing to the much needed sleep.
With a startled grunt, Harry woke up, blearily looking around his heart hammering in his ribcage. He should have expected it really, with being confronted with the Grangers earlier; his mind had still been dwelling on it as he slept. How he hated her more than any others, Weasley he might have expected but Granger...fuck, he'd went to his certain death to save them only to be cursed the first time his back was turned, they'd killed him in the future just before he came back.
He had felt the life draining from him, and he knew your body had to die before you could step before Death, just like it had when he was seventeen and the Horcrux was destroyed. They'd won in the end, or they thought they had, but if he had his way, nothing would be the same. With that in mind, he looked over at the other bed, only to find Tom sleeping, his head on his arm, the other on the book which was still open.
He was so hungry, he couldn't go another day without proper food, and he wasn't sure what he could do, if food was rationed then even if he had money he couldn't buy something. Then like a light bulb going off, he thought of something he hadn't earlier and wanted to smack himself, what an utter idiot he was.
He absently touched the pouch around his neck, where his money was, he kept it on him at all times. With a light crack Harry Apparated away from the orphanage, and straight into the Leaky Cauldron, where food was being heartily served. Harry wanted to snatch it from them and gobble it down he was actually that hungry.
Fortunately he was also not stupid enough to antagonise anyone, instead he went to the counter and quickly ordered two large lunches to be put into 'to go' boxes. He was surprised by the price, it was rather low, the difference fifty years makes he thought to himself as he handed over the requested amount - sliding away with a quiet thank you before casting a disillusion spell on himself, so he could Apparate back - he didn't want to risk anyone being in the room.
He never had gotten the hang of the Obliviate spell, well he could cast it but he hated doing it, it summarised it was something to do with the whole Lockhart debacle. Seeing what it could do if not cast properly, well it was little wonder why he didn't want to.
He reappeared in the room to find Tom staring at the space where he had just Apparated. With a deliberate flick of his wand, he removed the charm and appeared.
"Where did you go?" Tom enquired emotionlessly, never showing that he had feared the boy wouldn't return. He knew if that happened the Mrs. Cole would somehow blame him for something that hadn't happened.
He thought that to disguise his own growing feelings - feelings he didn't want to outright analyse or admit too. He had grown up alone, independent he wasn't sure why he felt so drawn to him yet there was no denying he was.
"To the Leaky Cauldron, I'm so hungry, I can't just eat they're giving out," Harry admitted, unsurely handing one of the take away boxes over, very unsure whether Tom would take it or not. Not many people had ever helped Tom from what he could gather, not even his so called 'friends' then again would Tom have accepted the help?
Or would he have seen that as a weakness? Tom saw a lot of things as a weakness, especially love. He saw it as a way to manipulate others, others that were weak for loving someone. For a moment Harry feared that he was right, that Tom wasn't going to take it - then he did hesitantly as if he suspected it to be a trick on his behalf. "I got you beef I know you like it best," was all he said before sitting on his own bed and digging into his own to go box.
Tom's eyes flicked to the box, surprise thrumming through him, nobody usually noticed things like that about him. Noticing that Hadrian was already digging into his food, he opened the box and began eating his beef stew with a spoon that was in the box, there were two rolls which he used to dip into it, enjoying the rich taste, his taste buds tingling in delight after enduring bland food.
That wasn't all; there were ham sandwiches, with pickle on them, the way he liked. He ate one of the sandwiches but found himself pleasantly full, he decided to keep the rest of it for later. The beauty of the boxes it kept it fresh for however long it was left in the container.
Or hot for a while depending on what was put in them, magic was just amazing like that - it just knew what was what. "Thank you," Tom managed to ground out, grimacing in distaste at having to say the damned words.
Harry just shrugged dismissively, making a point not to make any sort of deal over it, "its fine, they have to go boxes that keep filling up ever mealtime, if you pay for it in advance.
It sounds like something we should do, although it can only be done for a fortnight supply then you have to go back. Maybe that's when the charm wears off? I don't know either way, I'm going to think about It." sighing softly, he leaned back against the bed contently nursing his full belly.
As soon as the containers were completely empty they would disappear back to the Leaky Cauldron, magically of course.
"You can Apparate," Tom stated, "Even seventeen year olds have trouble with that, sometimes it takes them months to pass their Apparation licence.
"And there was your reaction earlier to the name Granger, despite your shock you were furious, I could sense it, your magic rolled around you like a storm." He was honestly surprised none of the Muggles felt it, but considering how they will have left - maybe the magic hadn't caused that much of a change.
There was no Granger at school, and he couldn't possibly hate the boy he had just saved with magic...so what was going on?
Harry grinned despite the conversation; he would love to hear some of Tom's theories, although truthfully if there was anyone in this world that could perhaps figure out his real story - it had to be him.
He hoped Death would come back soon, he really wanted to know how long he expected him to remain here, admittedly he had nowhere else he could go - unless...unless...he convinced Tom to write to Slughorn and get permission for both of them! But would Tom come?
There was a huge difference between a little food (Which he was still honestly surprised he had taken) and staying somewhere else for two months...even if he hates the Muggles there was no way he would want to be indebted to him. Unless he could spin it in a way that made Tom think by getting Slughorn's permission it was him who was getting them out of there. It wouldn't be easy to manipulate him; he was the Master of Manipulation, even as a fourteen year old.
He hated himself for this...but he couldn't leave Tom on his own, despite all the betrayal and hurt he'd been through was it wrong of him to just want someone who gave a shit? The hat said he'd find his true friends in Slytherin so he was hoping that he would. He knew he would end up regretting this, Tom wasn't exactly going to turn out to be a loving law abiding citizen was he? Hell he might not see him again after he leaves Hogwarts - now that was a depressing thought.
A knock on the door interrupted them; Harry grabbed the container boxes and shoved it as far under his bed as he could before nodding to Tom.
"Come in," Tom said loudly, he knew only the Matron ever knocked on the door; none of the others had the guts, and would never come near his room.
"Here you are," Mrs. Cole said handing over something black to the teens, "Someone kindly donated these to the orphanage, to help you, especially during these troubling times. Remember lunch at its usual time boys." she had no expression on her face, and just as quickly as she entered she left, presumably getting around to the others to give them their diaries.
Harry stared dumbstruck, he'd never wondered before, yet he felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. Of course it had to have been the orphanage, Tom didn't like his real name - and didn't consider it his real name - no he thought of Voldemort as his real name so he wouldn't have bought it or stamped his name on it.
He'd gone to great lengths to make the name Tom Riddle disappear. It obviously hadn't been the Slytherin friends; otherwise it wouldn't have been so...muggle and his alternative name would have been on it.
Gulping softly, sitting innocently in Tom hands was two black diaries. One with Tom Marvolo Riddle stamped on it in gold letters, and the other Hadrian Peverell.
A shudder ran through him as his own was flung over to him - which he caught with perfected Seeker reflexes.
'Bloody hell!' he thought bewildered.
Notes:
Hehe what did you think of that? I hope you are still enjoying the story! now will both teens make a break for it into the magical world? would one year make any difference between Tom wanting to make Horcruxes? Tom is also getting closer and closer to the truth without even realizing it! R&R please