Hermione's Riddle

The Woman in the Photograph

Tom sat down in his new seat in the library while Miss Norris took his old seat. Normally, he would be upset but his thoughts were elsewhere.

What did that crackpot mean about a time traveler? If she really did have a vision, did that mean there was a time traveler among them?

His eyes flew to the studious Gryffindor. Her wily brown hair covered her face like a curtain as she poured over the books in front of her. No, she was Dippet's granddaughter, was she not? Maybe she was the time traveler pretending to be their headmaster's estranged granddaughter. But Dumbledore was the one who brought her to the headmaster. What if that old coot was in on it? What if his future self sent the girl in front of him to his time and instructed the him from this time to aid her? Aide her in what, he did not know.

He growled in frustration and shook his thoughts away. He needed proof.

"Are you alright? You really shouldn't take her words to heart." The Gryffindor was looking at him with concerned eyes. He was not used to that look coming from her, it sent a familiar feeling running through him. Not really a feeling but more like an image, one of a similar girl wearing a similar look. One that he had almost forgotten.

"I'm fine," his intended growl came out softer as his mind began to work through his jumbled thoughts. "Do you have a picture of your mother?"

Norris looked at him in a mixture of confusion and shock. He watched as her brown eyes lit up as if she must have realized something. She reached for her school bag and pulled out a worn photograph from one of the pockets. "It's my only picture. Dippet gave it to me right after the funeral." Her words rung with nothing but the truth. He reached out and took the offered photograph with gentle hands. Flipping it around, he was met with a familiar face.

"Are you hurt, little one?" A woman wearing a long grey dress looked down at him. Her brown eyes were large and doe-like.

"It does not hurt," Tom lied. Levi, an older foster kid, had pushed him down on a bunch of rocks causing Tom to scrape his knee.

The woman bent down on the other side of the wired fence. "It looks as though it hurts." She pulled out a white handkerchief and passed it to him through one of the many holes. "This should help ease the pain and stop the bleeding."

Tom took the handkerchief, not believing in her words. He pressed the white material against his wound and the pain instantly vanished. "How?"

The woman smiled at him, "magic," she said with a wink.

"I do not believe in magic," said Tom.

She stood up. "I must be going, my husband must be looking for me." Tom tried to pass the handkerchief back to her but she would not take it. "Keep it. You may need it in the future." With a swish of brown and grey, the woman left Tom alone in the orphanage's small fenced in yard.

Later that year, Tom found himself sitting alone by the fence. "Alone again. At least you are unhurt this time." Tom loomed up to find the familiar face of the kind woman who had given him her handkerchief.

Tom found himself smiling on the inside though it would not, could not, show on the outside. "You again."

"He doesn't seem too friendly, are you sure he would be fine with Hermione?" Asked a man with brown hair and hazel eyes.

"Hank, he's just a boy." The woman was becoming angry with the man. "He's like me. He can't stay here without knowing what he is!"