Chapter 3 - 3: Meeting Dippet and Riddle

Dumbledore knocked on the door leading to the headmaster's office. The office that Dippet resided in during this time.

"Come in!" Said a cheery voice from behind the wooden door.

Dumbledore pushed open the door and walked in, followed by a nervous Hermione. "Headmaster Dippet, I'm afraid I bring terrible . . . and good news."

Dippet looked questingly at Dumbledore. Hermione's heart broke at the news that he was about to receive.

"A letter came today." Dumbledore placed the letter containing the tragic news in front of Dippet.

Dippet's smile faltered as he looked at the letter. He picked it up and began to read it out loud. "Perhaps you should read it to yourself," suggested Dumbledore.

Hermione watched as tears flowed from the headmaster's eyes, running down his face. "My. . . my. . . daughter. . . my precious, Maureen." Dippet's voice broke.

Hermione stifled a sniffle. She would not cry, though she so dearly wanted to.

"I thought you said you had some good news!" Shouted Dippet hysterically.

Dumbledore placed a hand in between Hermione's shoulder blades and pushed her forward. "Introduce yourself, child," said Dumbledore kindly.

She looked between the two in confusion and dread. Confusion that she had to put on the act right at this moment and dread at giving this poor man some hope.

"I'm Hermione, Hermione Nor. . .Norris," stuttered Hermione.

Dippet continued to look at her in confusion. Tears dribbled down his face, becoming lost in his long white beard. He then looked to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore bowed his head. "It is true. She is the sole survivor of the town."

"I. . . I have a. . . granddaughter?" Asked Dippet as he continued to stare at Dumbledore in complete shock.

Dumbledore nodded in confirmation.

A broken smile filled Dippet's wizened face. "I have a granddaughter!" Before Hermione could blink, Dippet had wrapped her in a hug. "I have a granddaughter!"

He pulled away to look at her. "Hermione. Maureen always loved that name." His smile faltered at the thought of his daughter. "Ho. . . how did it happen?"

Hermione gulped when Dumbledore said nothing. "They were planning on escaping, but Grindelwald's forces showed up sooner than expected. They didn't. . ." Hermione's voice failed her as she couldn't think of a lie fast enough. It appeared as if it wasn't needed. Dippet hugged her once again.

"Where are you to stay?" Asked Dippet in hopeful yearning.

"You are her only surviving relative. You may have her stay here and attend Hogwarts, allow her to develop and perfect her magic while having a chance for her to get to know you," supplied Dumbledore.

Dippet clapped his hands together. "What a splendid idea. We'll have to see what house you'll be placed in. You'll probably be a Hufflepuff just like your mother. We'll have to get a tutor for you to help you catch up to your year. . .how old are you, my dear?" Asked Dippet.

Hermione opened her mouth to answer but then closed it. Lord Voldemort graduated in 1945, which would make him a sixth-year this year. "I just turned sixteen, sir."

Dippet clapped his hands once again. "Terrific! You'll be a sixth-year. That means you'll be in the same grade as Mr. Riddle, our star pupil. I'll see if he could. . ."

Hermione's blood boiled at the thought of Lord Voldemort tutoring her. "I may not have attended magic school, but my mother made sure I was well prepared. She taught me herself." Interrupted Hermione.

Instead of looking annoyed, Dippet beamed a loving smile. "Your mother was the top of her class during her time here. I am sure you will be, too; you remind me so much of her."

He looked down at her, and a confused expression washed over his features. "What are you wearing, my dear?"

Hermione glanced down at her torn, modern-day clothes. "It's France's newest style," she lied effortlessly.

Dippet nodded, accepting her lie. "It does not matter. You will have your robes after you are placed into your house." He disappeared behind the bookcase and came back with the sorting hat in his hand. "This hat will sort you into your house."

Hermione nodded as Dippet placed the hat gently on her head. "A sneaky little girl. You lie, though, you bring happiness in your lies," said the hat in her head. She was glad that no one else could hear the hat speaking right at that moment. "You are intelligent, like a Ravenclaw but brave as a Gryffindor. Would you like to be placed in the house that you were in during the timeline that you came from?"

Hermione answered the hat with a silent 'yes.'

"Gryffindor!" Shouted the hat.

Dippet plucked the hat off of her head. "A fine house indeed."

"I thought you wanted her in Hufflepuff," mused Dumbledore.

Dippet placed the Sorting Hat back onto its spot. "Any house is fine as long as the girl is here. Her being alive is all that matters."

Hermione's heart fluttered. It tore at her that this man was so caring and unsuspecting.

Dippet clapped, drawing everyone's attention back onto him. He sat down and scribbled a quick note, Hermione watched as it turned into a bird and flew off. "It's to inform Tom to come to my office," answered Dippet when Hermione looked at him in confusion.

"Would you like some tea while we wait," asked Dippet. Hermione shook her head, already hating herself for taking advantage of this man's hospitality. Dippet looked to Dumbledore who raised a hand to decline the offered drink. "Very well then." Dippet made himself a cup of tea and sat down on the large oak chair.

"We should have a funeral for them. . .Maureen and Hank."

Hermione could think of nothing to say, so she didn't say anything. They were not her parents and she felt as though she should have no real say in the matter.

An awkward silence filled the room. It didn't last long when the door to the office opened to reveal a boy around her age. He was tall and slender with brown wavy hair perfectly styled. Hermione bristled, recognizing the young Dark Lord.

"Tom, my boy!" Grinned Dippet as he stood up to greet Tom Riddle.

Riddle plastered on a fake smile that did not reach his dark eyes. "You needed me, Headmaster?"

Hermione felt Dippet's hand come to rest on her shoulder for a second. "This is Hermione Norris, my granddaughter." A spark shown in Riddle's eyes at the unsuspecting news. "Show her around the castle and help her with her studies, would you?" asked Dippet.

"She's a Gryffindor and her robes should arrive by tomorrow," informed Dumbledore.

Hermione watched as Riddle's jaw became tensed, a small vein jutting out from his lower jaw. His posture became rigid before going back into that poised, relaxed state that he had when he first entered.

She watched as his jaw relaxed and a fake smile appeared. "Of course, sir. I would be honored."

Riddle whirled around and left through the door, not even bothering to see if Hermione was following. She stretched her legs out as far as they would go to try to keep up with his longer, hurried pace.

"You don't have to show me around," said Hermione. "I have a map that my family gave me." She remembered the few details that she had found out about Tom Riddle, one being that he was an excellent lie detector. She didn't lie, nor did she tell him the whole truth. She did possess a map, the Marauders' Map, and it belonged to Harry who she viewed as a brother.

. . . Harry . . .

She was doing this for him. If she succeeded in whatever it was that Dumbledore had set up for her, she could go back to her time and save Harry. He would no longer have to die at the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Riddle whirled around, his jaw was clenched tight, and his hands were balled into fists. Hermione took a step back, not because of this, but because his eyes had flashed blue, the same blue that Lord Voldemort had. So, Tom Riddle's soul has already been split? The thought made her shudder.

Instead of backing down, she said, "You should be careful. Your eyes flash blue when you're angry."

He looked taken aback by her bold words. "It's just the lighting. Why would you think I would be angry." It wasn't a question, but he expected her to answer him.

"You have been angry with me ever since you showed up to the office. I assume that I am an unforeseen event that you haven't calculated for. You're also irritated with Dippet, which everyone but him can see. If you want to blame your eyes on the lighting then fine, I do not care." She shrugged to emphasize her point.

Riddle's head cocked to the side as he examined her. "Why do you address him by his name if he is your grandfather?"

"I only just met the man tonight. Him and Mau. . .mum weren't close." Hermione wanted to smack herself for the small slip-up. To her relief, Riddle accepted her words.

She replayed what she had said in her head and came to the realization that her slip-up sounded a lot like a choke and that mentioning her mother was hard for her. Dippet must have explained that she was now technically an orphan in his brief message though he somehow forgot to mention that she was his granddaughter, supposed granddaughter, by the way that Riddle acted.

They walked down the corridor in silence. Before long, they came to a stop in front of the moving staircases. Riddle walked up to them without giving her any warning about them. It was a good thing that she was used to them, or she would have found herself in a bad spot when trying to find her classes. Speaking of classes, she sure hoped that her schedule would be in her room or at least arrive with her robes in the morning.

Riddle pulled them to a stop in front of the painting of the Fat Lady. Hermione paused as she realized that she didn't have the password. "I don't know the password," said Hermione, her despair rising.

"You don't know. . . How do you know you need a password if Dippet never told you," said Riddle accusingly.

Hermione couldn't stop the eye roll. "My mum attended Hogwarts." Crap, she just flat-out lied.

One of Riddle's perfectly manicured eyebrows rose in suspicion. Before he could accuse her of anything, the Fat Lady interrupted in her sing-song voice. "You do not need a password today, dear. News has spread that Headmaster Dippet will have family joining him here at Hogwarts," the Fat Lady said a bit smugly.

Riddle nodded, though Hermione could see his annoyance at being interrupted flash through his dark eyes. "I will leave you then. Kathleen Prewett, the Gryffindor prefect can show you around or help with any questions you will have," Riddle practically hissed, his frustration at this Kathleen person clear.

Hermione paid him no mind and walked through the now-opened painting. The Gryffindor common room was the same in this time as in her own, except for the little, busty redhead who tapped her foot against the floor. Hermione couldn't put her finger on it, but the girl reminded her of someone.

The girl broke out into a smile. "I'm Kathleen and I'll be your prefect." Kathleen wrapped her in a tight embrace. "I'm here to help you with anything you need, just don't ever ask Riddle," said Kathleen, her frustration with Riddle evident in her tone of voice.

Hermione finally figured out who this girl reminded her of, Molly Weasley. She did have a busty redhead in her time who frequently showed her frustration, Ginny Weasley, Molly's only daughter. This trip was no longer looking so dull and fearful, she could possibly have a friend in this timeline.