A/N - just to let you know, I don't live in London, and don't really know the city that well. I chose a street from a map and have no idea whether it's residential, commercial or what - I claim poetic license. To any Londoners out there, sorry if I got it wrong. Doing the research for this was interesting…but I digress. Enjoy. Oh, PS - there is R/L in this chapter…
Chapter 7 - A Day in London Town
Ron and Luna. Harry smiled to himself every time he thought of the emerging couple. Over the days following his birthday, he began to realise just how much Ron liked the Ravenclaw as nearly every available moment was spent in her company. Now he could Apparate, Ron didn't wait for an excuse and as soon as the seemingly fruitless search of the Black family library was over for the day - he was gone.
Hermione had begun visiting Dowrgi, often returning to Grimmauld reflective and quiet. Harry tried to get her to talk and after a while, she would - but not about her day or why she was so introspective. He decided to let things be - he had enough on his mind to start to worry about what she was thinking about - but also decided to keep an eye on her as her change of mood since his birthday was slightly concerning.
Therefore it was surprising that Hermione interrupted him and Ron's reading half way through one morning, a look of determination plastered on her face.
"Something wrong Hermione?" Ron asked cautiously as he looked up from his book.
"I think I know where a Horcrux is hidden," she said with no preamble.
"You do?" Harry blurted out, surprised, "where? How?"
"Well, I've been thinking about it for a while," she continued, making her way to an empty chair, "and the more I think of it, the more I'm sure. It fits all the criteria - it's a significant part of Voldemort's life, it is somewhere where he could hide something and it's somewhere where people wouldn't look. The orphanage where Tom Riddle lived."
Harry stared at her as he thought about what she said, amazed.
"You know something, that's not a bad idea," Ron said thoughtfully, "except we don't know where the orphanage is…"
"Harry does," Hermione replied.
"I do?"
"Yes, you do," she stated looking at Harry intently, her eyes gleaming, "you saw where it was when Professor Dumbledore took you there to meet Tom Riddle for the first time. Now that we have the pensieve, we can go back and look at that memory."
"But I don't know how to get the memory out of my head and into the pensieve," Harry thought out loud, "we were always using Dumbledore's memories…just a minute, Dumbledore's memories!" Harry quickly got up from his chair and made his way to the master bedroom.
"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione asked as she and Ron followed him into his room. Harry didn't say anything and instead kneeled down in front of the chest containing his inheritance from Dumbledore that Aberforth had given him. It had been purposely ignored but now Harry nervously opened the lid and peered inside.
Most of the chest was filled with various books except for three compartments on the right - one looked like the collection of chocolate frog cards that Harry guessed would be complete, one held the pensieve and the other contained numerous glass bottles and a note. With shaking hands, Harry retrieved the small piece of parchment and read Dumbledore's whispy handwriting.
Harry
I have put aside various memories for you in case I am no longer able to share them with you myself. Some you have already seen during our search so far, and are labelled accordingly. The others, however, are memories of sweeter times that I had always hoped to allow you to see, when things got better. They are memories of your mother, father and Sirius. I have enjoyed these memories immensely and was hesitant to part with them but I feel my time is drawing to a close and it is time to begin readying my self for that next great adventure. Therefore I pass the thoughts onto you.
Watch them with pride and happiness.
Yours truly
Albus Dumbledore
Aware that Hermione and Ron were waiting patiently for an explanation, Harry folded the letter and put it back where he got it from, trying not to think about the memories that would be like home movies of his parents and Sirius. Breathing deeply to get himself back in control, he rummaged through the glass vials until he found the one labelled 'Visit to Tom Riddle, orphanage 1938'.
"Dumbledore's memories," he proclaimed, holding it up so his friends could see, "he kept it for me." They all stared at the small glass bottle, transfixed, until Ron spoke quietly.
"I guess we're taking a trip then," he said, breaking the other two out of their spell. Harry nodded and handed the vial to Hermione as he removed the pensieve from the trunk. He was just about to pour the memory in when Hermione stood suddenly.
"Wait," she squeaked, "I need pen and paper." Without hesitating, she ran off and was back before the boys could pass a comment, a Muggle notebook and pen in her hand, "right, lets go."
Harry took the stopper out of the bottle and poured the silvery substance into the pensieve where it swirled around in a small puddle at the base. Harry looked at the other two.
"You just lean forward into the liquid," he instructed, "Hermione, you go first so you don't miss anything, but wait for us before you go anywhere."
Hermione nodded and Harry watched nervously as she bent into the pensieve and in a moment - was gone. Ron soon did the same and with a grin of excitement, Harry let himself be transported back to 1938 London.
Ron and Hermione were waiting for him - Ron just staring at the figure of a younger Dumbledore crossing the road, while Hermione was looking around at where they were.
"This is Westminster Abbey," Hermione remarked, "the House of Commons and the Thames is that way. I know exactly where we are!" Excitedly, the three began to follow Dumbledore as he made his way through the streets until they reached a more residential area filled with houses. Every now and then, Hermione would stop and note road signs or a landmark she thought might have lasted fifty years, always keeping sight of Dumbledore and his plush plum suit. By the time they began to climb the steps to the orphanage itself, Hermione had filled quite a few pages.
"Do we need to see any more?" Harry asked, wanting to get back to the present so they could discuss what they'd seen.
"No, I think I know where to find it," Hermione said, just as the door opened and Dumbledore was asking to see Mrs Cole. Not bothering to wait, Harry grabbed each of Ron and Hermione's elbows and lifted them both out of the pensieve, landing with a thud on the floor of his room.
"I can't believe I didn't notice Westminster Abbey before," Harry stated as he went to put the pensieve on his desk, "I mean, it isn't something easily missed."
"But you weren't looking around you, you were looking at Dumbledore," Hermione reasoned, "who I must say was wearing a smashing suit."
"That's what I said," Harry laughed, turning back to his friends.
"You are joking, aren't you," Ron grunted, laying down on Harry's bed, "that suit was something mum would make me wear!"
"Yes, but Dumbledore could pull that look off," Hermione quipped, "you can't."
"So, are we going to the orphanage today?" Ron asked, disregarding Hermione's comment.
"No, I don't think so," Harry replied after a few moments thought, "I mean, it's already nearly lunch and we have to make a plan. We can't just bowl on up and say can we look around the building for a magical object…"
"If the building is still there…" Hermione interjected, "it's been fifty years, it may have been torn down or blown up during the Blitz…"
"Blitz?" Ron questioned, "what the bloody hell is the blitz?"
"A lot of London was destroyed during the Muggle Second World War," Hermione explained, "and the destruction was called the Blitz. Westminster Abbey was damaged in May 1941, so the orphanage could have easily been destroyed at the same time."
Harry sat thinking about what Hermione had just said and the excitement of finding the orphanage began to diminish. His musings were disturbed as she continued to speak.
"I agree that we should go tomorrow, after we think up a cover story…"
"You mean make up other identities," Ron interrupted enthusiastically, "I want to be…Conrad Sebastian the third, a famous Quidditch player…played for England…"
"Firstly, we will be dealing with Muggles," Hermione reminded with an annoyed frown, "and secondly - Conrad Sebastian the third? You are too strange Ronald."
Harry chuckled as he followed the other two down to the kitchen to get lunch. The banter between Hermione and Ron continued until they had all decided on a decent cover story to use to which Ron announced he was once again going for the evening and promptly disappeared.
Hermione stopped talking pretty much as soon as Ron left, and so it was in silence she and Harry began to make the evening meal. Harry felt quite disconcerted about her withdrawal and spent the time eating his dinner to work out what to say to find out what was wrong. Before he knew it, she was clearing away her plate, getting ready to leave - once again retreating to her room and leaving him alone in this horrible house.
"Are you okay Hermione?" he blurted out, stopping her in her tracks.
"What?" she asked as she turned around, her eyes cast to the ground.
"I mean, is everything alright," Harry bumbled on, his voice a nervous rush, "it's just that, ever since my birthday - no, it was after the will and Dumbledore - you've been so quiet and you won't tell us what you're doing at Dowrgi. Then you come up with this Horcrux idea out of the blue, without really talking it through with us - but that's understandable really. I mean, you are brilliant so if anyone would come up with an idea, it would be you…But that doesn't account for why you won't talk to me. You talk to Ron alright, well, argue with him, but with me…have I done something wrong? I'm kinda worried and you won't tell me what's wrong…"
The words came out in one big long hurried clump, making him slightly breathless when he'd finished. Harry didn't know whether he had made any sense and wondered if he had just made a huge fool of himself. With a rapidly beating heart, he waited for her to say something.
After a few moments, she looked up at him with the same look that she gave him when he handed her the keys to his houses - a look he couldn't read and didn't understand. She reached out and ran a finger down his cheek, causing him to frown - her hand snapped back and she stepped slightly away from him.
"You haven't done anything wrong Harry," she said softly, a blush touching her face, "and I'm sorry for making you think that you have. It's just that, well, I have a lot of things on my mind…"
"You always tell me it helps to talk about things," Harry interrupted, "perhaps if you talk about it…"
"I can't," she continued, her voice a near whisper, "I can't…it's…girl stuff. I'm not sure you would understand…"
Things fell into place - she had 'girl problems'. Girl problems that she couldn't talk to her two male best friends about. And with the tension between her and Ginny, perhaps she had no-one to talk to at all.
"Oh," Harry said, "right. So you're sure you're okay? I mean, generally?"
"I'm fine," Hermione laughed gently, "I'll see you tomorrow Harry."
Harry watched her go, still concerned but some of his worries had disappeared. She wasn't angry at him for some reason, and that was the main thing. Absently, he ran his fingers down the line on his cheek where she had touched him, wondering why she had done that. Shrugging his shoulders, he just realised that sometimes girls did weird things and turned to do his dishes, ready once again for an early night.
He woke up with the birds the next morning, ready for the trip to London. Quickly getting ready, he made his way to the kitchen to see Hermione already there. She looked up at him and smiled.
"Feels good to do something a bit more active, doesn't it," she said, sitting down at the table with her breakfast.
"Yeah, it does," Harry agreed as he began getting his cereal and joining her at the table, sneaking a glance at her and seeing she looked slightly more relaxed, "how are you feeling today?"
"I actually feel pretty good," she said happily, looking at him squarely, "last night I thought about what you said and realised I was being stupid so, I've decided to be a bit more…friendly."
"I didn't say you were unfriendly, Hermione," Harry said quickly, "just…"
"…moody," Hermione finished for him with a smile, which Harry returned, "do you think it's safe to wake up Ron?"
"Nah, let's give him 'til eight-thirty," Harry replied, eating his cereal, "Ron isn't exactly a morning person."
"No, no he isn't," she laughed, "which gives us a couple of hours to kill. Do you…do you want to play cards?"
"Cards?" Harry repeated, nearly choking on his breakfast, "I didn't know you liked to play cards?"
"Well, I think today may be pretty hard work," she began, "so a bit of fun might be in order before we go, what do you think?"
Harry looked at her and saw she was really trying hard to be light, hiding the strangeness that he had mentioned the previous night deep, deep down. Concern once again entered his brain but he reminded himself she will tell him what's going on when she's ready. So with a nod, he accepted her invitation to spend the morning playing cards and it turned out to be a lot of fun.
When Ron joined them a bit later, it was to find them laughing hysterically over their game of exploding snap, so much so that Harry didn't even notice his friend's arrival until the redhead sat down grumpily next to Hermione.
"Decided to join us," she joked, collecting the pile of cards from the table.
"Not all of us go to sleep before sunset," Ron grumbled, "besides, it's not like you're missing me…"
"'Course we miss you mate," Harry smiled, "it'll be more like you not missing us, what with your mouth permanently glued to Luna's"
Both Harry and Hermione chuckled as Ron turned a lovely shade of red, his bowl of cereal suddenly becoming very interesting.
"So, when are we off," Ron finally questioned through a mouthful.
"Well, actually," Hermione started, looking a bit hesitantly at Harry, "I did a bit of research last night which could help us…"
"Let's see it then," Ron prompted when Harry didn't say anything. He just watched her, wondering where and how she managed to do research from her room. While he was thinking, she summoned her work and in moment a file of parchment landed on the table in front of her.
"A bit of research?" Harry questioned, looking at the stack of paper, "when did you get the chance to do all this? How did you get a chance to do all this?"
"Last night I…I Appariated to a library in Brixton," Hermione stammered out, holding Harry's angry gaze, "the Lambeth Archives Minet Library to be exact, and found the records for the Orphanage…"
"You left the house without telling me?" Harry snapped, "without telling any one? What if you were attacked! What if you were in an accident and we didn't know where you were?"
"I left a note in my room…"
"You left a note!" Harry yelled, "bloody hell Hermione, you can't just go off on your own…"
"Why not?" Hermione yelled back, "Ron goes off on his own every night! You have no problem with that!"
"We know where Ron is!"
"Do we? Do we ever ask? All we know is that he is off with Luna - he never tells us where he's been or what he's been doing!"
"I am sitting right here guys," Ron said quietly, watching the argument with a smirk on his face. Both Harry and Hermione turned to him angrily, making him hold his hands up in mock defeat, "if it makes you feel any better, we hang around Luna's house mainly, getting…acquainted. She doesn't live that far from the Burrow actually."
Harry closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He really didn't understand why the knowledge of Hermione leaving the house without telling him was upsetting him so much. One minute they were having fun and the next minute they were shouting at each other - it wasn't right. She was only doing what she thought was best, helping their search, there was no reason to get so annoyed. Sighing, Harry opened his eyes and looked at his friends.
"Thanks for that Ron," Harry said lightly, trying to smile, "and I guess I don't really want to know what you and Luna get up to. But you're right Hermione and I'm sorry for shouting at you. You have just as much right to leave here as Ron."
They looked at each other for a moment until she nodded ever so slightly and returned his half smile.
"Thank you," she replied, "and I'm sorry for leaving without telling you. I should have said something before I went to my room, it won't happen again."
"Well, glad that's all sorted," Ron said sarcastically, "and I'm sorry but you guys will probably never get to know what Luna and I get up to."
"Fair enough," Harry laughed, before turning back to Hermione, "so, what did you find out?"
"Quite a bit actually," she beamed, sifting through her notes, "the building was built at the end of the nineteenth century, and was an orphanage until 1973 when it closed and remained empty until 1986 where it was purchased to be redeveloped. Building didn't start until around 1990 and due to financial difficulties, wasn't completed until 1995. I found the building plans which show the interior of the building was practically stripped bare and re-built. The only part that wasn't touched was the old bomb shelter in the basement…"
"Bomb shelter?" Harry repeated, suddenly excited.
"What's a bomb shelter?" Ron asked, confused but Hermione ignored him and looked at Harry, her eyes gleaming.
"I thought you'd find that interesting," she continued, "it seems that the original cellar was built so well that the London authorities felt it was sufficient as a bomb shelter during the war, allowing the orphanage to remain open and even take over the schooling of the few children who remained in the area. It was sealed up when the orphanage closed in 1973, the circumstances confusing. The records I could find never said why, only that it was sealed when the orphanage was closed."
"We need to find out why the orphanage was closed," Harry thought out loud, "and why the bomb shelter was sealed."
"I agree," Hermione said, extracting some lists from her pile, "here are the occupant listings for the years Tom Riddle lived at the Westminster Orphanage. I've removed the duplicates and collated the information so that there is one main list which indicates the name of the child, when they came to the orphanage and when they left plus the names of staff. Mrs Henny Cole was the matron throughout Riddle's time there and in fact was still the matron when the orphanage closed."
"She was still matron?" Harry questioned, "she would've been ancient!"
"Well, yes, she would have been in her mid to late eighty's," Hermione confirmed, "and it seems her death was one of the reasons the place closed. From what I understand, she died under mysterious circumstances but it all got very confusing and I ran out of time to look further. We can go and check the place out and if nothing comes of that, then we should start interviewing the surviving staff members, then the ex-orphans."
Harry looked at her in awe - after dinner last night, he went up to his room and polished his broom for a bit before trying to read one of the books from the Black library, giving up on that after a while so he turned his attention onto cleaning Hedwig's cage - then he went to bed. Meanwhile, Hermione had researched, collated lists and come up with strategies plus thought about their conversation after dinner and slept. How is that possible?
"You're scary, do you know that?" Ron joked, pulling one of the lists to him and looking over it, "very, very scary."
"We should make a start," Hermione commented, snatching the list back off Ron and giving him a disgruntled look, "are you guys ready?"
Indicating they were, they left Grimmauld Place (leaving a note on the table explaining where they had gone in case one of the Order came looking for them) and made their way to Kings Cross. They then made the short tube ride to the Westminster stop where they stepped out into the beautiful summer sun and looked around to get their bearings. With purpose, Hermione began striding away, the boys quickly following her though Ron kept staring at the buildings with obvious awe.
"Bloody brilliant," he gasped as they passed Westminster Abbey, "and to think, they did all this without magic!" Harry smiled though in fact, he was thinking the same. He had never really looked around London and was just as impressed as his wizarding friend.
Hermione, however, just looked at her notes and surrounding buildings and landscapes, oblivious to the sights or the people that cursed her as she stopped suddenly in their way. Harry didn't even bother to ask if they were going in the right way and just followed Hermione with total trust. It wasn't until they hit streets that weren't as busy and the historical buildings were replaced with rows of houses that Harry began to really take note of where he was - and that was when he saw it.
Just around a slight bend, on the other side of the road, sat a large building with a wrought iron fence surrounding it. It wasn't at all shabby and in fact looked quite well presented, with a little garden at the front and newly whitewashed walls.
"There it is," she breathed, "Westminster Orphanage, now Westminster Apartments."
Harry looked at the building and saw some resemblance to the building he visited with Dumbledore. This time, however, the shabbiness was gone and a new modern glamour had taken its place - Tom Riddle would have hated this place. The thought made Harry laugh to himself.
"So, what do we do now?" Ron asked, looking at Harry and Hermione for answers. Harry was just about to speak when Hermione bet him to it as she stopped an old woman passing them in the street.
"I'm sorry, madam?" she began politely, "my name is Jane Gower and I'm trying to find out more information about this building," she indicated to the orphanage, "you don't happen to know anything about its history, do you? You see, my grandfather was an orphan there during the war."
"Oh no dear," the woman gushed, "it stopped being an orphanage just after I got here. It's Beryl you want, she's lived in Morick Street all her life, she has."
"That sounds perfect," Hermione smiled graciously, "do…do you think Beryl would talk to my friends and I?"
"If there's anyone who likes to talk, it's Beryl. Trouble is, I don't feel right taking a group of strangers to her house," the woman continued, "us old ladies have to be careful."
"Totally understandable," Hermione soothed, still smiling, "is Beryl able to get out and about? Perhaps we could shout her some lunch for her trouble. You too, Mrs…?"
"French, Doreen French," Mrs French beamed, "that sounds lovely. We often go to the small café over there, on the corner. We could be there at midday."
"Thank you so much Mrs French," Hermione continued, "I look forward to seeing you both at midday." Mrs French smiled broadly before bustling away, looking over her shoulder once at them and waving, before heading off once more.
"What the bloody hell was that all about," Ron splurted out once the woman was gone, "do you often randomly pick up old ladies from the street and offer them lunch?"
"She had groceries in her basket so I knew she lived around here," Hermione explained patiently as she began to walk towards the old orphanage, "she was old enough to know the orphanage when it was still active and even to have been here when Riddle was. I took the chance and luckily she has a friend that may have been here at the time we want."
"Beryl," Harry said.
"Yes, Beryl," Hermione confirmed, "Dumbledore's search took him to the wizarding world to find answers - we are going to use the Muggle world."
"But a Muggle wouldn't recognise Riddle's magic," Ron stated, "what's the point…"
"We're not all stupid Ronald," Hermione snarled as she entered the foyer of the apartment block, "some of us Muggles might actually realise when things aren't quite what they seem."
"That's not what I meant and you know it," Ron responded, annoyed, "hey, where are we going?"
"To the basement," Hermione replied briskly, moving quickly over to the stairwell and went to open the door when a voice called out to them, stopping them in their tracks.
"What are you kids doing?" a gruff man asked as they turned around in time to see him storm over to where they were.
"Er, we were…" Harry began.
"I don't care," the gruff man interrupted, his badge informing them he was security, "I don't recognise you as residents and there is no reason for you to want to go down there. I suggest you leave the property before I call the police."
Harry saw Hermione get ready to argue but something in the man's tone told him that it would be useless. Taking her arm, he began to hurriedly lead Hermione away, Ron quickly following. Once they were outside the gate, she turned on him, hands on hips.
"Why did you do that for?" she growled, "you didn't even give me a chance to explain! He wouldn't have got us arrested!"
"How do you know that?" Ron asked loudly, "did you see the size of that guy?"
"Size isn't important…"
"Not something a bloke usually likes to hear," Ron muttered under his breath, causing Harry to chuckle.
"What?" Hermione yelled, looking between the now grinning Harry and Ron, "what's so funny?"
"Relax Hermione," Harry placated, casually putting his arm over her shoulder and leading her further away from the building, "we have an hour before we meet Beryl, why don't we grab a tea and go through what we're going to say."
Though still scowling, Hermione agreed and after a cup of tea, she was talking to them both normally once more. True to their word, Doreen and Beryl arrived at the café right on midday and after the food was ordered, they both sat back in their chairs, sipping their tea.
"Doreen tells me you loves are interested in the old orphanage," Beryl said finally, eying them all up suspiciously. "can I ask why?"
"Er, Jane's grandfather lived there during the war," Harry lied, remembering the story they had made up, "we're in London for a couple of days so we thought we'd look it up…"
"Granddad talked about the place quite a bit," Hermione continued, "I just wanted to find out more, see where he grew up."
"What is your grandfather's name dear," Beryl asked kindly, "perhaps I knew him."
"Daniel Gower," Hermione answered confidently, and waited as the old woman searched her memories for someone with that name.
"No, no that name doesn't ring a bell," Beryl carried on, "but I didn't know every one that lived there. Children came and left, especially during the war. Many of my friends were sent out to the country, but my parents had no-one to send me to, so I stayed here. The orphanage remained open, due to the cellar, so I spent a lot of time there. Even took classes there as my school was shut down."
"Must have been difficult," Hermione said, sympathetically, "during the war. I understand the bombing got quite close here."
"Quite close," Beryl cried, "oh my love, the bombs fell all around us! The night the Abbey got hit, we thought we were all going to die, stuck in that horrible cellar all night! We came out to piles of rubble where houses once were."
"Was it always horrid during the war?" Harry asked, getting caught up by the vivacious woman's story, "I mean, I know it was tough - but did you manage to have fun too?"
"Oh yes," Beryl replied with a grin, "I was twelve you see, when the Battle of Britain began and seventeen when the war finished, and it is fair to say I was rather popular. Though, I don't think even I could claim having two such handsome young men follow me to try and find some old people to talk to about my grandfather as you have managed to do Miss Gower." Harry felt himself blush as the two old women giggled along with Hermione while they obviously eyed both himself and Ron over - Ron, who remained silent, turned crimson.
"Did you ever date anyone from the orphanage?" Hermione asked, still smiling.
"I did better than that, I married someone from the orphanage," Beryl laughed, "oh, my parents weren't too happy, but we were in love. Billy had lived most his life in that place but he was a sweet boy and even sweeter man. Just shows that ones surroundings doesn't always taint one, as it did others…"
"There were bad people there?" Harry asked, curiously.
"Not many, though one I will never forget," Beryl answered, suddenly loosing her smile, "Tom was an evil, evil boy…"
"Tom Riddle?" Harry interrupted excitedly, his enthusiasm causing a look of surprise from their storyteller.
"You know of Tom?" she asked, looking between Harry and Hermione.
"It seems he struck a cord with Granddad as well," Hermione answered, giving Harry a warning look, "Jimmy was there when Granddad was telling us a story…"
"…about a rabbit," Harry cut in, ignoring Hermione's stare.
"That was Billy's rabbit, his pride and joy," Beryl shuddered, "Billy had told Tom to leave me alone, because that boy used to scare the dickens out of me. The next day his rabbit was dead. The day Tom left to go to that boarding school didn't come quick enough for us. And when he finally didn't come back during one summer, I guess when he turned eighteen, we really thought we'd never see him again. You see, Billy and I were a year younger so we were still around and we never really left. Most got as far away from the orphanage as possible once they could leave - but Billy and I, we stayed."
"But you saw him again," Ron asked, finally speaking, "Tom Riddle, you said you thought you'd never see him again, but you did, right?"
"See, I told you Doreen," Beryl nudged her friend, a smile coming back to her face once more, "the boy is just shy - of course he can speak!"
"Oh Beryl, stop teasing the young folk and answer the question - did you see that ghastly fellow again?"
"Yes I did, and so did you Doreen," Beryl continued, looking back at the trio, "it was 1973 and I know the date because that was when poor Henny Cole died…"
"That was a terrible time," Doreen agreed, "Henny was an old dragon but she was a big part of this community. Such a shame."
"And that was when you saw Tom again?" Hermione interrupted, getting the ladies back on track.
"Yes, we were coming home from work and passing the gate when I felt him…"
"Felt him?" Ron repeated, confused.
"Well yes," Beryl confirmed, "he didn't look like he did at the orphanage - he must have got burnt or something. He had no hair and was terribly pale but I knew it was him, my skin always crawled every time he was near. Remember Doreen? Remember me pointing him out to you?"
"I don't think I can ever forget that face," Doreen replied, "he didn't look human."
"No, he didn't," Beryl agreed, "and the next day they found poor Henny dead in the cellar. They said she died of old age - she was eight-four after all - but I always thought Tom had something to do with it."
"Henny Cole," Harry said, pretending to be confused, "who was she?"
"Why dear, she was the matron," Beryl informed, "had been as long as I could remember. Her death saw the end of the orphanage - the children were sent to other homes, they sealed the cellar where she died and the orphanage remained empty for many a year."
Harry didn't say anything and instead looked past the ladies to the building across the street. Tom Riddle had come back to the place he had called home for eighteen years, killed the matron, made a Horcux and walked away without even a sweat. Now all they had to do was work out how to get it.