"I'm not wearing that!" Tom Jr. declared defiantly to his father and grandmother as they stood before him with women's cover-up. Just yesterday, Tom and Eric Goodwin, a scholarship student from his school who had a bit of a mouth on him, got into an argument that ended in a fist fight. Tom insisted that Eric threw the first blow, though Tom Sr. expected his son may have started the entire thing. He had been in a foul mood yesterday and probably started the argument very intentionally. Normally, he would not mind his son's black eye and split lip, but today they were going to attend Lady Weston's annual summer tea party. Tom was now old enough to attend these smaller social events, which would allow him to begin networking with young people outside of school. However, that would be difficult with his appearance. "I'm a boy. We're supposed to do these kind of things!"

"Young men of your stature duel to resolve their differences and then agree to have as little contact as possible. The only time a fist fight is acceptable is in the defense of a person weaker than you. Your behavior was disgraceful," he lectured the boy.

"I told you, he hit me first!"

"Because you started it! I'm not ignorant Tom. I know you far too well to think you just let him go. You've had a thing against Eric since you were seven and you spent ten minutes yelling to the high heavens when you learned he was going to Eton with you. You hate him and wanted a fight yesterday. I understand that, but society will not. Just do it today, or else I'm forced to leave you here and tell everyone my son was unfit to join us today, because he was being childish." If there was one adjective that Tom Jr. would not stand to align himself with, that was childish. With a sigh, he gave into his father's demands and allowed his grandmother to cover his injuries in the disgusting cream. An hour later, the family was in the car.

It was fortunate that one could not properly talk in a car with all the noise of the engine as all the men were rather irritated about the party. Thomas, being a shy man, did not find pleasure in talking to people he did not like for hours on end. He preferred small, intimate gatherings with close acquaintances. Tom Sr. was still frustrated with his son for being so stubborn over a little request, but would cheer us as soon as they actually got there. Tom Jr. did not appreciate the make-up and had to rest the urge to rub it off. He would be angry the entire time, but would put on a good show for everyone else's benefit. Overall, it was the normal agitation that gripped families prior to social events intended to raise the spirits.

As they left the village, they passed a small run-down hut that Tom had often seen. However, this time a particullarly ugly and unintelligent-looking man stood outside with a dead snake in his hand. Oddly, Tom felt a pang of sadness towards the snake. The man stood muttering to himself, but Tom could not tell what he was saying.

"It really is a shame we cannot tear that place down," his grandmother drawled to her son. His father nodded as he stared off in the opposite direction as if he was not really listening. Tom thought he caught a haunted look flickering in his eye, but he could not tell what for. His grandfather sent his son a questionable look that Tom did not understand. "Well, perhaps when you are Prime Minister you'll be able to buy the rest of the valley and rid us of that eye sore," she joked to Tom. He just nodded and bit his tongue. He did not, under any circumstances, go into politics.

They arrived at Lady Weston's estate. She was a middle-aged widow with a two girls about Tom's age. The eldest, Susan, was three years older and terribly cruel, while young Ann, 9, was annoyingly timid. The last time Tom had met them, he had spent the five hours around them contemplating how to make Susan's death look like an accident and wondering if Ann actually knew how to speak. Luckily for him, Ann was still too young to join the older children in the actual party and Susan was older and, hopefully, more mature than she was two years ago. At the very least, she would be around adults and could not taunt him as badly. From the house came the sound of jazz music and chatter. Lady Weston was scandalize like that. Many people talked about her behind her back, but was always kind to her face. She had enough influence in matters that she made a terrible enemy. They were whisked into the house and their coats and hats were taken by silent servants. The noise was overwhelming and Tom felt powerful. He never knew why, but associating with the best of society, made him feel invincible. They made their way to the gardens where many people were crowded around a bird of a woman, their hostess herself. Upon seeing his grandmother, Lady Weston raised a clawed hand in the air and cried out in a carefully moderated voice, "Mary, my dear, how wonderful to see you!" Mrs. Riddle thought a woman of her age being called by her Christian name by someone as young as Lady Weston a crime. However, she too had to keep the woman in her good graces, and instead, put on a cheery face and greeted her warmly.

"Lady Weston, thank you so much for inviting us! You look wonderful!" Introductions were made and the adults quickly fell into conversation. The women discussed the latest fashion while the men talked politics and economics. Tom stayed around for a few minutes before excusing himself to talk to a group of boys his age. While the topics were still superficial, he could at least relate to school and summer plans. It seemed that with each revelation of a trip, the speaker had to top the one prior to him.

"What about you, Riddle?" John Brandon asked. He was one of Tom's least favorite people. Being highly pompous and three years ahead of Tom, he had made it his mission to make Tom's life horrid. He had tried to bring him down during school, but John had eluded him. His very tone had oozed mocking. Tom knew what he longed to say. 'Going to work in the fields with your mum?'

"Well, while there is nothing set exactly, my family is planning a tour of the continent once Father finishes us some important business dealings. He happens to know the French ambassador who has promised us the best stay in Paris imaginable." Several boys offered politely envious compliments and John just glared at him. Tom smiled innocently. While there was no plan to leave the country, Tom did plan to spend a great part of the summer reading up on history and geography. He would figuratively be touring the continent. And his father did know the ambassador who had made such a promise. They just were not taking him up on that offer yet. The conversation continued, but was interrupted by someone Tom dreaded even more than John.

"Hello boys, how are we doing today?" Susan gushed sweetly, her eyes evaluating each member of the crowd like prey. Tom refused to answer, but most mumbled politely. No one here liked the girl.

"Dear Susan, a pleasure to see you again," John responded enthusiastically. Tom perked up a bit and realized what was going on here. He was never fond of the expression "killing two birds with one stone," but it worked here. The two kept talking animatedly, and eventually they excused themselves to tour the garden. Tom, claiming the excuse his father was calling, left and followed the disgusting duo. His plan was more complex than he ever tried before and it took a lot of concentration. Finally, a giant bird swooped down and caught in Susan's fancy hair. The crow cried and flapped as Susan screamed and tried to pull it out. John hesitantly tried to pull it out, but was hit several times in the face, and Tom had nothing to do with that. Then, several rocks zoomed towards John and pelted him away. He ran, and they followed. His cries of pain turned to terror. The screams were attracting the attention of the adults now, so Tom helped the bird fly away and dropped the rocks. The two disgruntled children stood there and just cried. Not paying attention, Susan's hair fixed itself and the dirt marks on John's suit disappeared. Their mothers flocked to them, but upon discovering nothing wrong, attempted to console what they assumed was a misunderstanding. Surely the bird had just swooped close. But as they insisted, and as John went on about the rocks that followed him, it became embarrassing and they were pulled away to be talked to. Tom smiled and laughed to himself.

As the crowd was moving away, Tom Sr. noticed his son walking separate from others with a smirk on his face. His shoulders rose gently as if he were laughing. Did Tom have something to do with this? He would have to talk to him later.

XXXXXXXXX

"You called me?" Tom asked as he entered the library. Tom Sr. removed his glasses and closed the folder he had been reviewing.

"I did. I want you to be frank with me. Did you have anything to do with Susan and John's outburst earlier today?" he asked in as stern a voice as possible, trying to keep the desperation he felt at bay. Tom sighed ever so slightly and turned his gaze away.

"Of course not."

"Look at me when you say that." Tom's steely grey eyes met his and he could not find a hint of untruth in them.

"I did not do anything to them. I did see the accident. A giant crow flew too close to Susan and something fell down that hit John. They immediately started screaming and that's when everyone came down. They overreacted. That's it," he explained very matter-of-fact.

"Very well. You may go," Tom dismissed the boy. However, Tom Jr. did not leave. "Yes?"

"Why are you so determined to see the worst in me?"

"What do you mean?" Tom Jr. walked over and knelt down beside his father, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"You always assume I did something. Ever since I came home, you keep asking me if I did this, or if I had something to do with that. Why Dad?" Tom Sr. reached down and pulled his son into a tender embrace, guilt gripping him.

"I'm sorry Tom. I just worry about you. You have so much to overcome with these rumors floating around, and I would hate to see you be pulled down and ruined by them. You have to walk a fine line and truly be better than everyone else. I'm just trying to protect you. I don't think you're a bad kid. I'm so proud of you," he told him, tears now running down his face.

"But why?"

"Because you're my son, and I love you." The father and son let go and rubbed their eyes, now embarrassed by their outburst.

"Thank you, Father," Tom said with as straight a face as he could master.

"Of course Son. Do know that I'll always be proud of you, no matter what." With a shy smile, Little Tom walked out of the room, the tension between the two lighter than it had been in years.

A/N: All right, so I know that may seen rather out of character for Tom, but it isn't necessarily. This is a slightly different kid than is presented in the books and he still wants his father's approval. So take it in that context. This was more of a lame chapter. I wasn't originally going to write it, but it'll be a bit more important later on and I wanted to show the extent of Tom's power. Let me know what you think and I'll try and update soon! School starts in just about a week so I'll be busy, but I'll try and write. I'm excited about the next chapter. I think you all know what happens there!