Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

The Orphanage

Thunder cracked and rumbled, then receded slowly into the distance. Hermione hurriedly made her way up the cracked and crumbling sidewalk, her heels clacking against the wet concrete. She would've cast a rain repelling charm, but she thought it best to fit in with the muggles, so she held a black umbrella above her head, looking every bit the part of a funeral-goer as she passed through the towering iron gate of Wool's Orphanage.

She shivered in the icy rain as she climbed up the steep steps to the front doors of the derelict Victorian building. She gripped a large brass knocker, alerting the matron to her presence. After several moments, there was an old caretaker that let her in and led her into a wide foyer. She followed the old man up the staircase and into the matron's office, where Hermione was left to wait.

She stood gazing out the only window that the room offered. Twilight was coming quickly, and below the towering orphanage, the lights from the cars crept like inevitable insects along the London streets. Those same lights shone through the torrents of rain, fluctuating and dimming and then flickering like batting lashes. Dark gray clouds hovered to the east, but to the west, despite the rain and the city lights, one lone star could be seen, vivid and defiant. To the north, leaves from the few trees planted outside the saturnine orphanage gates whirled along the street as car after car disturbed their peace.

Hermione turned as she heard the door open.

"Well, hello there, Miss. Welcome to Wool's Orphanage. My apologies for your wait." The older woman surreptitiously eyed Hermione, taking in her expensive, well-tailored clothes and youthful appearance. "I believe you are the Miss Granger who wrote, if I am not mistaken?"

"Yes, I am," said Hermione politely, holding her gloved hand out.

"Wonderful. I'm Mrs. Cole," said the matron as she took Hermione's offered hand. "To what do we owe this visit today?"

Hermione sat her umbrella aside and slowly doffed her gloves, but she instantly regretted it, as there was quite a pervasive chill in the air that she felt immediately as soon as her skin was exposed. "I would like to have a tour of the orphanage, if you have the time."

The woman once again took stock of Hermione, her questions written glaringly across her face. "I could certainly make the time, but what is the purpose of your visit?"

Hermione looked around her, as if she were critiquing her surroundings. "Well, that remains to be seen. I have a vested interest in this orphanage, but I prefer not to reveal my intentions before I've had a good introduction to the place."

"I see. Are you interested in adopting any of the children?"

"That I cannot say yet."

The old woman's hawkish eyes gazed at Hermione with uncertainty. "Well, I suppose I can show you around a bit. The weather is a bit ghastly today, mind you, so many of the children will be about. We usually have them outside quite a bit."

"In this frigid weather?"

The woman looked at Hermione with surprise. "Well, they have got to get their exercise, haven't they? Can't have them all lazing about. Come, this way."

Hermione stood and followed the woman out through the hallway. She took her into a large hall with black and white tiled floors, lined with cot-like beds. There were nearly a hundred beds, all lined together in the large room.

Hermione blinked. She had assumed that perhaps the children all had their own rooms, or even shared rooms, but this had all the clinical coldness of a hospital wing. Even so, the Hogwart's hospital wing was much more welcoming than this.

"Do the children not have their own bedrooms?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, goodness no," the woman uttered, aghast. "How ever would we be able to keep an eye on them after nightfall?"