"Stay the fuck away from us, you hear me?" I threatened the strange man that had followed me home, shoving him against the outer wall of the building by his collar.

He was young, clearly having only recently finished schooling which meant I was perhaps a few years older than him. Pale skin, determined features, and a thin smile that struck me as untrustworthy. And he was foreign. British, I think? or Australian. To be honest, it was hard for me to place accents. The guy was also taller than me though that wasn't a huge feat considering how short I was for my gender. His clothing consisted of black slacks, a grey v-neck sweater vest, and a thick black trench coat that almost looked like a robe.

"There's no need for threats, friend," his lips curled into a soft smirk, "I'm not out to harm anyone. I'm only looking for new companions in a venture of mine."

I stared at the man in confusion. I had noticed him in the market earlier that day where my eyes caught sight of him in the distance at two different points during my errands. He had simply been watching me. However, when I decided to confront him on the third time, he had disappeared. I thought it was strange yet having walked my entire way home without seeing him again, even with diligent searching, I figured that it was nothing serious and could have even been a coincidence. I was proven wrong when I stepped across the threshold of my home only to have my mother question as to who my friend was. Imagine my surprise to spin around and see that same man standing behind me.

He immediately introduced himself to her as Tom and said that I had helped him out in town and invited him to join us for dinner. At first, I had been too dumbfounded to keep him from entering and by the time my mind had returned enough, I saw my mom's happy interest. For fear of alerting her to the contrary and worrying her, as I knew how easily frightened she could become with people, I played along with the stranger's game.

After the meal was finished, our conversation having consisted of much small talk, I insisted on showing him outside and seeing him on his way. When we were alone on the porch of the tiny house in the country was when I called him out, "I'm not your friend. What the hell do you want with me directly?"

"Your companionship," he answered plainly, not bothered at all by my aggressive hold on him.

Carefully, I let him go, keeping my eyes glued to him as he straightened his clothes. I had stayed isolated much of my life. My mother and I moved frequently as she was constantly concerned that someone from her past, an enemy, she said, was going to find and harm us. After I had completed grade school, I'd found a job and had been the one to care for her, though I had refused to stay on the move after that. So I didn't have much experience with people and this Tom Riddle certainly had my interest, his nonchalant behavior refreshing in contrast with the usual instances of anger, fear, or self-absorbed vanity that I was used to from the public.

"And why mine?" my brow raised, "How come I struck you as appropriate for this venture of yours?"

"Because you're a lot like me," Tom answered, "Tell me, Gerald, do you believe magic is real?"

In any other scenario, I'd have scoffed and told the loon to leave me alone or I'd call the police. However, the man's odd behavior and captivating demeanor had me feeling more curious than usual, "I can't say that I believe one way or the other. Why?"

He slid a hand into the lining of his jacket, causing me to jump with the first instinct that he was withdrawing a weapon. He paused at my startle, "Don't worry," he said, slowly continuing the motion, "It isn't a gun."

My gaze fell to his hand where he had retrieved a stick from the interior of his robe. A stick? What was this guy doing carrying such a thing around? I took another step, one closer to him this time, and studied the item he held. It was indeed, little more than a twig though it had been sanded and shaped with what I could only guess was a sort of handle attached to the base. Tom lifted the thing into the air, pointed it at the small lights on my porch, and flicked his wrist.

The only illumination in the visible vicinity then vanished, leaving the two of us in almost darkness. I don't know if my gasp was audible or he simply heard me shift in place out of obvious shock, but as soon as I had, I could barely make out him repeating the movement to make the lights return. I opened my moth to speak when he turned his face in my direction, but he hadn't finished with his little show. His weapon aimed in my direction, my stomach fluttered momentarily wondering if he would perhaps disfigure me with his strange power. Instead, however, I was greeted to the sight of a hammer and some nails that I had discarded to the side of the porch several days ago, floating around me.

"That is...incredible," I murmured, reaching a finger out to poke one of the nails. Once determining that it was real and not a trick of the eye, I pulled the metal out of the air and rotated it in my hand. As I did so, the rest of the items hovered back to their spots and I looked up to see that Tom was lowering his...wand...to his side.

"If you think that is something," he chuckled, "You're in for a treat."

The stupid expression of childish fascination fell from my face into a more serious one, "I still feel it is strange that you should approach me. There must be more to it than having simply seen me at the market."

"Indeed there is," his demeanor also became solemn, "You see, Gerald, I am looking for other like-minded wizards. That is why I am here at your residence."

My brow furrowed as I absentmindedly dropped the nail from my hand, "Others? Are you saying I'm a wizard as well, then? Because it's news to me."

Tom nodded, "I'm not surprised. Many magical folk are left in the dark as to what they are until they reach a certain age. When they start showing magical talents, they are sought by more experienced wizards and witches to be taught to use their abilities."

"I see," my tone dropped. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I have not shown any of this magic of which you speak. You're obviously still young yourself. Perhaps you should leave locating ignorant wizards to someone older."

The words came out more insulting than I anticipated and though I saw a small twinge in the man's face, he didn't falter from his stance, "I may not be old, but I am quite experienced. Especially compared to someone such as yourself who is completely ignorant of this topic."

My own being became flustered when he simply threw the same amount of seemingly unintentional arrogance back at me yet I fought not to show it. He was right. "Fair enough. So I assume you have some sort of test to make sure I am what you say I am? or at least to convince me that I am such?"

"I do. It is late. Are you free to meet me in the morning?" Tom asked simply.

I thought about my schedule. Tomorrow was actually the last of my off days for the week, "I am. Where? I don't want this around here with my mother. She's too faint of heart."

The wizard seemed amused by my answer, "There is a lake nearby, yes?"

"Lake Hamilton is about fifteen miles east," I affirmed.

"That would be a perfect location...unless, of course, you feel uneasy being so isolated in my presence," he observed.

"Not at all," I scoffed, uncertain of how I felt about him in general other than curious, but having a complete lack of desire to seem intimidated.

"I will see you there at daybreak, then," he nodded, finally placing his wand back into his coat and stepping down the small staircase of my home and onto the grass below.

"I would like to know, however," I called after him and he instantly turned around in a slow circle, "What it means to be of mind in likeness to yours?"

"I apologize for not explaining that," he offered, "You see, the magical world has been hidden from the muggle world for centuries."

"Muggle?" I repeated the unknown term.

"People without magic. I believe here in America the term is nomaj," he clarified, "Supposedly, this is for the safety for both muggles and wizards along with every other creature belonging to these different worlds. The muggle horses and the magical unicorns...the list goes on. However, there are a growing number of us who have become fed up with this separation," his tone grew intense, "It is unfair that we should have to hide ourselves...keep our lives secret while the muggles overrun the Earth, a planet that is just as much ours as it is theirs."

I took a silent moment to consider these things, "That makes sense to me. My entire life has been spent in hiding. Not from muggles or because I was a wizard, mind you, but because my mother insists that an enemy from her past has been searching for us. That she had to flee and remove herself from the life she knew as this person wishes for our death."

"An enemy?" Tom's voice seemed less like a question and more like he wanted to know what I was aware of. It was a bit unsettling, but I tried to brush it off.

"Something to do with my father," I shrugged. "The point is I'm tired of hiding. I want to be in the world. I want to have a normal life."

"I find it fascinating that you are trusting I'm not this enemy with how unusual our meeting has been," Tom replied, the quickness of his assumption throwing me off.

I lowered my gaze and rubbed my chin before looking back up and settling it on him again, "I suppose it's ill-advised," I admitted, "But you're the first person who has revealed anything to me about...well, anything. I have been raised to question everyone and trust nobody. Yet somehow my natural sense for dishonesty feels different with you. I can't say I trust you yet I can say I don't really distrust you. It's hard to explain. Perhaps its just a mixture of loneliness and curiosity that drives me to entertain you."

Tom smiled, "I believe I understand. I can only say I present to you what is truthfully me and I hope I can earn your trust in the coming days."

"I hope you can too," I nodded.

"Very well, Gerald," he nodded in return, "I will see you upon the morrow."

Before I could offer any further words or gestures of goodbye, the wizard spun on his heels and disappeared into the night air. I immediately shot to my feet and skipped to the place where he had just been standing. Nothing was there. I scanned the area on all sides of me as far as I could see including the sky. It was like he had never been here at all.

I took a deep breath in and walked back up the porch, taking a seat in my favorite wooden rocker. Only as I sat to relax did a hint of fear and uncertainty return to my stomach. What the hell had I gotten myself into? Was I losing my mind? No, mom had seen him too...spoken to him...

"Gerald? Is everything alright?" I heard the woman's voice call through the screen door as if in response to my thoughts.

"Yes. I was just enjoying the weather is all," I half-lied.

"I'm going to turn in for the night, sweetie," she told me.

I twisted my neck to see her form through the door, "Good night, mom. Sleep well. I may head out to the lake early tomorrow...see if I can catch some fish for dinner."

"That sounds delightful, my son," she yawned with a sweet smile, "Good night."

I listened until her footsteps fell quiet and then returned to my previous contemplation. I couldn't tell her about this...not yet. I had to make sure I knew exactly what was going on before I worried her. Besides...magic? She would need proof to believe just as I had and I would rather be able to prove it myself rather than her see this power solely in a stranger as that may frighten her.

Tom Riddle. Interesting surname, mundane first. It hadn't been untrue what I had said about trusting him. There was something peculiar and yet charming about the man. I indeed felt he could be a kindred spirit. I had never had a friend before. Not even in childhood as my mother had taught me at home. Even upon meeting others in passing, I never felt the desire to know them any more intimately. Mr. Riddle, on the other hand...was this how people made friendships? Happening across that unexpected someone who was both interesting and kind who seemed to resonate with your own being? Then again, maybe I was getting ahead of myself. I guess it would take more time with the wizard to understand whether this was a bond or simple curious infatuation.