February, 1938

Wool's orphanage

TR, 11

The boy narrowed his eyes. What a stupid little idiot. Every time someone new was brought to the orphanage, all the kids excitedly clustered at windows, peaked curiously into the entrance corridor from their doors, and gathered and gossiped annoyingly. The wannabe leaders of the formed small gangs, on the other hand, made sure to have sucked up enough to the Bitch, Mrs Cole, in order to be downstairs alongside the welcoming staff, selected as exemplary representatives of the precious orphanage. Tom could never hope to join those chosen ones, nor did he ever try to. However, he could see the advantage of being among the first kids the newcomers met when stepping into this grey, God-forsaken, prison. It is at the precise moment the rusty metal doors screeches back to closed, when all new kids would finally comprehend that they have been completely and irreversibly abandoned by whoever had pretended to care for them prior the orphanage. And exactly at this vulnerable window of time is when they let their guard down and let for everyone to see what they are made of. And the wannabes make sure to be there for that in order to collect the good little soldiers before someone else does. Surprisingly smart for such a bunch of cretins.

Tom kept looking at the newcomer with contempt. This one was a people pleaser. Ugh. He hated those the most. Brave little smile plastered on pale, scared face. Nodding and talking to everyone around, keeping the polite façade like somebody cares. Like somebody will ever care again. Will come and tell her what a good girl she was, when she bravely stepped into the orphanage. Idiot. They'll swallow her alive. He gave her a week at most before she becomes a fetch-it little slave to some of the gangs. Even now he could see Amy Benson measuring the new girl through narrowed eyes, planning what tasks to assign her with once she's recruited. Three days tops. Tom shook his head in disgust and stepped away from the window. There was no one worth it in here. He took the pensil back in his palm and concentrate again. Come on. Just a small move.

HG, 7

Hermione felt like crying. She couldn't even register what was happening around her. There was a young woman gently guiding her throughout the entrance corridor of a dark fortress, where no sunlight had ever seemed to enter. A number of detached-looking kids were gathered around her and watched her as if waiting for something to happen. Perhaps this was the only reason she was not crying. She hated being on a display. And she felt like this was not only a public demonstration, but also some test of sorts. In a way she was sure everybody around her was highly disappointed by her calmness. Like they bothered to come only for the expected show, and now that she was denying it to them – irritation was growing. Her mom had always laughed at how shy and insecure she was. Have a little faith in people, darling. Most of them are just as scared as you are. Just give them a chance. She bit her lower lip and swallowed hard. Her throat burnt suddenly. This was not the time to think of her mother.

'I can do that, Mrs Cole!' The sudden voice startled Hermione and she focused back on the reality. A lankly girl with dark braids stood right in front of her. 'Come, the room is in my corridor! I'll show you around.'

Before Hermione could respond, the girl turned on her heals and stormed up the stairs. Hermione glanced around unsure and the woman with the gentle voice gave her an encouraging nod.

'Go on, honey, we will see you at dinner!'

Hermione fidgeted with the handle of her luggage for a moment.

'Umm..yes.' She muttered quietly. 'It… it was nice meeting you all. Thank you for greeting me.'

No one said a word. The remaining of the kids didn't even look at her anymore. As if whatever interest they had was gone. Mrs Cole turned and started talking to the gentle woman.

'Coming?' came the bossy demand of the lanky girl from upstairs.

Hermione nearly jumped.

'Yes-yes! Sorry, I…'

But the girl turned and walked off again, before Hermione could finish the apology. Embarrassed and with newly burning throat, she swooped her luggage and dragged it hurriedly up the stairs.

'Welcome to Wool's, dear!' the gentle lady had suddenly turned as if just remembering.

Unable to say a single word more without bursting into tears, Hermione swallowed painfully and mustered a smile before nodding. The kids took this as a cue to leave and dispersed in different directions. Some of them passed Hermione on the stairs and, she notice, didn't spare her a glance, even though most were much taller and bigger than her and could have easily helped her pull the large suitcase to the top. With flaming cheeks Hermione stopped trying to make eye contact with the people around her and resumed silently dragging the luggage to her new room.

When she finally reached the top, the lanky girl was chatting with someone else. As Hermione approached carefully, the girl gave her a quick annoyed look and snapped at her conversationalist.

'Go on now. I have to do this first.'

I'm not a 'this', Hermione bit back. She had never had to deal with confrontations before and instinctively avoided them. The third person, a small girl around the age of Hermione, she presumed, nodded timidly and with a quick glance at her, almost ran down the corridor to the left.

'Come, I will introduce you to everyone in our corridor.' Lanky said and turned to the opposite corridor. 'By the wa… hey! Watch it, stupid!'

Hermione, wanting to receive some approval from the only person who had talked to her yet, hurried after the girl the moment she turned. However, she did not expect that the latter will not storm down the corridor at once, as she had done twice now, so they crushed.

'I'm sorry! I'm s-sorry!' Hermione stumbled over her words. She did not dare to say anything else after receiving particularly annoyed look from the older girl.

'God! You are slow, aren't you?' she exhaled exasperated and shook her braids disapprovingly. 'How old are you anyway?'

'I'm 7… will be 8 in September.' Hermione decided to stick with as few words as necessary, obviously unable to do anything right in the eyes of her new companion.

'Really? You're scrawny! You look 6 at most!' Lanky contemplated her for a moment. 'Ok, we'll figure out something for you. For now let's get it over with here.'

She turned again and went down the corridor opening doors without knocking. Hermione followed careful to keep at least few steps distance from the bossy girl. Lanky introduced her quickly to everyone and Hermione only managed to peak shortly into the rooms, before having to hurry to the next one. Neither of the kids seemed remotely interested in starting a conversation anyway and some of them looked down right frightened. She could understand that. As they reached the end of the corridor, Lanky turned to her again.

'Ok, this is your room. Don't make too much noise, because I'm responsible for this corridor and last thing I want to deal with are cry-babies, understand?'

Hermione just looked at her.

'Oh, and my name is Amy.' Lanky stretched hand. As old habits die hard, Hermione couldn't ignore it even though she had clearly found the first person in the world that she consciously disliked.

'Hermione.' She said automatically as they shook hands.

Amy rolled her eyes.

'I know that, stupid! Gee..'

The hands were dropped and neither could seem happier to have it so.

'My room is the first on your side of the corridor. Don't bother me unless it's something that will get us into trouble!'

Hermione couldn't envision any scenarios where she would willingly knock on Amy's door. So she just nodded. Amy turned and stormed off once again and Hermione was glad she didn't have to follow this time.

Sighing quietly, she turned also to enter her room, but stopped. There was a room across hers, which Amy did not barge in. The light was seeping from underneath the small slit between the door and the floor, and Hermione assumed that as the curtains were clearly pulled – someone must be living there.

Did Amy forget this one? She seemed awfully in a rush to get it over with, so it could be. Or maybe whoever lived there annoyed her as much as Hermione did. Hermione doubted it that Amy would ever willingly talk to her again, so it seemed plausible she'd ignore others like her. In a hope of meeting a companion, without the presence of the unfriendly girl (who she was sure scared most of the people around and for that alone maybe they would not be talking to Hermione), to share her misery with, Hermione stepped closer and carefully knocked on the door. Nothing happened. Not a sound. Counting to five, Hermione knocked once more, this time louder, just in case. Was there a sound? She pressed ear to the door. Suddenly it flung open and Hermione squeaked jumping backwards. A tall dark-haired boy stared down at her with such a look on his face, that Hermione instantly got paralyzed with fear. Neither of the kids, not even Amy, scared her in the real sense of the word. Intimidate and embarrass – yes. But this... this was something different.

'I-I…' she stammered. 'Next door neighbour..'

His lips went even thinner if possible.

'I'm H-Hermi…'

The door shut in her face.

Stunned, Hermione stood gaping at the thick old wood. The bed behind it screeched lowly, indicating that its owner has most probably gone back to it. Heart throbbing, unwilling to draw her neighbour out of his room anytime soon again, Hermione grabbed the handle of her massive suitcase with shaking hands and dragged it quickly towards her own new room.

The room was small and plain, but at this point she hadn't expected anything different. The white curtain was a pleasant surprise, so were the clean-looking pillow and blanket. Suddenly exhausted, she sat gingerly on edge of her bed and stared blankly at wall. What now? The day had been horrible. And this was something, considering everything that has happened in the past few weeks. Finally isolated from unconcerned curiosity, she allowed herself to sink in self-pity. This was her new life. Her new home. There was no mom or dad anymore. No one who actually cared about her and how she felt. Even worse, how she felt was probably going to be used against her in this place. And it was so unfair! She never did anything to anyone here. Anywhere actually. She'd always been polite and helpful when possible, and her parents shone with pride every time she did things right. Here they are mean. And bullies. Or bullied. It hadn't escaped her how frightened everyone looked. Except for that bossy girl Amy. She probably frightened half of them. The other half was probably taken care of by her new neighbour, she thought grimly. In fact, now that she comes to think of it, it would appear that even Amy was afraid of him and this is why she wouldn't even try to introduce him to her. She could have warned me! Hermione pressed palms to her eyes and tried to keep the tears in. Why didn't she warn her? It was not a big deal. Just a small 'and across you lives an evil git that you should never, ever cross' was more than enough. But no, Amy couldn't be bothered less. And why should she? She clearly demonstrated her dislike. Tears were now streaming in hot trails down her cheeks and a small wail escapes her lips. It sounded so sad and pathetic, that she drowned in a whole new wave of self-pity, sliding from the bed and burying her face in her knees. She wrapped hands around herself and began weeping softly.

Out of the blue, a strong hand squeezed her wrist and pulled hard, making her scream. The sounds died in her throat as she lifted her wet face and stared in utter horror at the dark-haired boy from next door. He was crouching in front of her with a maddened expression. His eyes were not black like she thought earlier. They were grey. Really dark, thunder grey. And scary. She never wanted to have to look at them again

Pain seared through her wrist and she gasped, as the boy's fingers tighten further.

'Don't. Cry.' he hissed.

Fear shot through her and together with it tears rolled down her cheeks even faster.

He pulled her hard and she yelped again.

'I said. Don't. Cry.' With face too close to hers, he almost snarled. 'Don't make me stop you!'

Blood drained from her face. She actually felt it. Without further words, she cut it off. Tears gone, sadness too. The only thing left was endless, terrifying horror.

He stared at her for few moments and she started back, unable to move, unsure of what will anger him more. Narrowing his eyes, he let go of her hand.

'Good girl.' His voice held no warmth or approval.

Then he was gone, leaving her in silence.

Few minutes later, Hermione clumsily stood up, walked to the door with shaking legs and closed it as quietly as possible. Next she put her suitcase in front of it, climbed the bed and scooted in the furthest corner. Hands wrapped around her knees, she just sat and stared at the door until dinner time came.