Author's Note: Enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.
At some point in the afternoon, the two children could be found lying in the wake of their snow angels near the Serpentine in the Gardens. The remnants of the sack lunches that had been handed to them just as they passed through the gates were strewn about the snow. This, of course, included the wrappers of several Turkish delights that Emrys had convinced her parents should rightfully be eaten by Tom and herself. And there, lying on her back in the snow in her winter frock, the girl was currently lounging about in a very unlady-like position. But neither child (nor, in truth, the Doric adults who watched the pair from a distance with amused smiles on their faces) gave one whit about that.
The two children had previously been engaged in a very serious discussion about the merits of various models of snow forts when Tom chose to ask a more personal question of his newfound friend (a word he had never before applied to anyone, but one which he had subconsciously given to the girl next to him). "Em, why are you and your parents on this excursion with us today?" After the briefest of pauses, Tom added the clarifying, "I'm glad you're here, I mean, but it is odd. We don't get many visitors at the orphanage. Especially not ones that take us out on excursions and bring along their impossible daughters."
Laughing at the jibe, she nonetheless elected to give Tom a straight answer. "Well, my parents are involved on the board of this boarding school in Scotland. And every year, they go to different orphanages to scout potential scholarship candidates." At Tom's surprised look, she continued, "I mean, they say this is a way to give back to the community. That it will make us appreciate what we have more. And maybe that's part of it - that's actually probably part of it. But the practical side of it is the school thing." She smirked, "Well, for them anyway. I'm honestly just here for the Gardens."
Tom's face couldn't seem to decide if it was shocked or amused. "You know, most people wouldn't have added that last bit. I appreciate your candor, to be honest. You don't try to dance around the fact that you have both your parents while the rest of us have none and you don't adopt that annoying posture of pity." Smiling for what must have been the billionth time that day, Tom confided, "I feel like I don't have to pretend around you, Em."
"I'd be offended if you felt you did," she replied. "You know, I've never understood why people like pity and sympathy - empathy, yes, but the other two? Why should I feel sorry for something over which I have no control?"
Tom nodded his agreement.
"I tried to get my parents to agree we should take you lot Christmas caroling, but Mrs. Cole vetoed it, apparently. I don't know why - I mean, I could easily do all the solos. I have a lovely singing voice, if I do say so myself," Em commented.
"I should like to hear it sometime, then," Tom replied, absentmindedly. His gaze lazily shifted toward the little garden snake that was winding its way toward him. "Hello, little snake," Tom hissed, "Isn't it a bit cold for you to slither about?"
The snake shook its head before it replied, "You would think, wouldn't you? But alas, I have become used to it."
"You can talk to snakes?" came the slightly surprised voice from behind Tom. This, of course, was quite odd because most people, upon discovering that Tom could speak to snakes, were considerably more than slightly surprised. In fact, most attempted to turn tail and run for the metaphorical hills as far off into the distance as possible.
Tom nodded, looking at his new (read: only) friend apprehensively, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 'She's going to run. Or call me a 'Freak'. Or possibly - probably - both,' he thought.
Looking at him steadily, Emrys said, "It doesn't frighten me - I actually think it's pretty neat." Pause. "I can talk to dragons," she stated, as if that were a perfectly normal thing to say.
The two children just looked at each other in silence for a minute before breaking down with laughter. Neither child had ever felt this at ease with another human being before.
Evening had long since rolled in by the time the group found its way back to St. Wool's. As Em and Tom entered the building, they were treated to the ear-piercing scream of an infant that was either tired or hungry or in need of changing. Or just plain bored. Emrys rolled her eyes and said, with false-sincerity, "Just think, next year she'll be old enough to annoy us with actual words instead of meaningless, high-pitched screams."
After recovering from the shock that she had so fluidly included him in her plans for next year, he asked, "Is that your sister?" At the nod of her head, he continued, "What's her name?"
"Rose," she said, "Because of her red hair. Precious, isn't it?" The sarcasm dripped off her voice in droves. Tom couldn't stifle his laughter. After gently whacking him upside the head, Emrys told him, "My parents thought it would be too cold for her outside, so they left her with one of the nurses here." Then, "Personally, I'm choosing to think of it as an early birthday present," she joked. The two children had discovered that their birthdays were but one day apart - his on New Years' Eve and hers at the dawn of the new calendar.
As the children around them scurried off to bed to ensure that Father Christmas wouldn't skip them over, Tom grimaced at their high-pitched squeals of excitement. "I'll never get any sleep tonight - they're always far too loud on Christmas Eve. It's funny but that old story had always left me with the impression that one needs to be asleep before Father Christmas would deign to enter through the chimney."
Teasingly, "Maybe the sugar plums give them headaches when they dance about the insides of their skulls and they have to yell at them to knock it off," Emrys suggested. The two children nearly collapsed onto the floor from laughter at the very idea.
"Emmie, dear," Violet Doric called softly, "it's time to go home." Gregor stood behind his wife with his left hand on her right shoulder and his right hand extended out toward his daughter. For her part, Violet held her eight-month-old daughter in her arms and smiled toward the two children.
Reluctantly, they each relinquished their hold on each other's hand. Emrys hugged Tom tightly around the neck and whispered, "I'd like to think we'll see each other soon, but I can't promise it. If all else fails, I'll see you September 1st of the year we start secondary school." And with that cryptic message, she kissed him on the cheek and darted off to join her parents.
Tom remained standing there, under the mistletoe he hadn't even noticed was hanging over his head, until Mrs. Cole came by to usher him to bed two and a half hours later.
Author's Note: I have more installments ready, but they're not in order yet. I'll post them when I can :)
Reviews are welcome
