Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

Riddle House

Chapter 5: Riddle House

February 3, 1948

Hermione woke on a cozy little sofa in a small, dim sitting room. The room was modest, but there were quaint touches here and there that made it feel like a home. The only light in the room shone from a tall glass floor lamp.

She looked around her, quite disoriented, but pleased to no longer be trapped in that terrifying shadowy plane, which was either a real place or a prison of the mind. In any case, she was exhausted, though she suspected she'd been sleeping for days, and her tongue was parched and dry.

On one side of the room sat a bare wood table and two chairs. A little brick fireplace crackled in front of her, keeping her toasty and warm. There was a frosty bite in the air, which alarmed her greatly, as it was currently only August and should be quite warm. Who would light their fireplace in August?

She rose slowly, realizing her body was quite sore and her legs felt like jelly. As she stood, she was hit with a wave of nausea which forced her to sit back down quickly in order to allow it to pass.

Something was off... But where was she? That blasted pen had set her back days, locking her up inside some kind of mental torture chamber. She was supposed to be at Hogwarts right now!

Now thoroughly irritated with herself and by extension, her surroundings, she stood despite the weakness in her limbs and walked to the window, peering outside. It looked to be evening, but she had no earthly idea where she was.

Through the dingy glass of the window, she could see a stone path that led to the front door of the cottage she was staying in, and beyond that, a small but lovely garden leading up to the back end of a large, three-story stone house. The house was strange and eerie, and vines crept up all along the stone.

Wherever I am , thought Hermione, I don't want to be here longer than necessary.

Soon, she caught sight of a man making his way to the cottage. She reached in her pocket and immediately sighed with relief when she felt her wand slide into her grip. She double-checked that her beaded bag also remained shrunken and hooked as a charm on her silver bracelet. Thank heavens .

She backed away and stood behind the door as the man approached. The door opened and he shuffled in, dragging his feet across the tiny mat. He looked around his mid-thirties and appeared to be confused when he looked to the small sofa, no doubt wondering where she had got off to.

"I don't mean to alarm you-" Hermione began, and the man jumped a foot in the air.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Now what are ya doin' hidin' back there?"

Her brows furrowed as she looked at the man. He took off his scarf and hung his coat on a small hook by the door.

"Um, sorry... but where am I?"

He glanced at her as if she'd lost a few marbles. "Forgive me, miss, but I found you lyin' on the gravel out there about six-thirty yesterday evening. Looked a bit beat up and right out of sorts. I couldn't rouse ya for nothing, but the nearest hospital be in Little Whinging, it's quite a far way to go, as you know."

"No, I- I don't know, I'm not from here. Little Whinging, you said?"

"Aye. Closest hospital, but still not quite close enough."

"So... er... where am I now? Where is here?"

"Why, you're in Little Hangleton." He gave her a questioning look. "You don't know? Don't you know how you ended up here at all?"

She looked apologetic. "Not exactly."

He shook his head, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "I swear to God, I've got ta get away from this bloody house. Too many strange things 'appening here lately."

Her heart began to beat swiftly, her pulse jumping. "Who are you, sir?"

He seemed to have remembered himself. "Oh my, but I've forgotten my manners." He held out his hand to her, and she took it hesitantly. "My name is Frank, miss."

Her eyebrows drew forward. "Whose house is this?"

"Well," he shook his head. "Used to belong to the Riddles, before they all... passed."

Her blood ran cold. Breathe , Hermione. Just breathe.

"So this... house is..."

"Well, this be the cottage. I'm technically the gardener. Name's Frank Bryce, miss. But the big house on the grounds outside is called Riddle House. It's empty now."

She nodded slowly, willing herself to be calm. "So there's no one else... around? No one lives here, it's just you?"

He nodded. "Yes, miss. The Riddles haven't lived here in a few years now."

The enchantment had brought her to Tom Riddle's father's house. The manor home where he murdered his father and grandparents.

Was it some kind of portkey?

She barely remembered the story that Harry had told her. She did, however, recall him mentioning a gardener named Frank. The man had seen Tom Riddle walking toward the house the night he killed them. Poor Frank had been blamed for the murders, too.

She also knew that Frank was murdered by Voldemort in the summer before fourth year. Harry had seen it through the connection to Voldemort's mind.

But that meant... if this was Frank, and he was still alive...

She swallowed despite her throat being parched. "Frank, when you say 'they haven't lived here in a few years,' how many years exactly do you mean?"

He appeared to be thinking. "Well, I s'pose it would have been... about four or five years now."

She nodded slowly, barely able to breathe. She spoke in a very polite tone so as not to betray her shaking voice, "Right. Well. Sir, I must be going. I'll be needing to contact my family. Thank you very much for your hospitality and all your help. You've been very kind."

He nodded, a look somewhat like sadness, or resignation on his face. "I didn't do it, you know."

Her brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

He sighed and sat down in a chair at the table. "You seem afraid of me, but I didn't do it. I didn't kill the Riddles. I just... wanted to say that."

Hermione was stunned. He thought she was leaving so suddenly because of fear of him .

Not even remotely.

"I know you didn't, Frank." She felt a wave of compassion for the man.

He ran his hand over his face wearily. "Thank you. Ah... Are you sure you're well enough to leave? Do you need anything before you go? You're not quite dressed for the weather out there." He gestured to her red dress and bare legs.

She shook her head. She needed to leave soon; she could feel herself going into shock. "No, no I'm fine. Thank you." She started to leave but then turned back. "Only... You never saw me here, Frank. If anyone asks... I was never here."

His brows drew together. "There's never anyone coming through here no ways, but all right, I won't tell a soul."

She took a step forward earnestly. "Thank you. Frank... You should leave. You should get away from this place. Go find someplace else peaceful. Anywhere else."

He stared at her with pensive eyes for several moments, then nodded as if he understood.

Hermione turned and left the little cottage. She had to find today's paper immediately. She needed to determine whether or not she was hallucinating. She walked down the stone path, passed by the cold, stone manor with its creeping vines and sinister memories, and apparated away.