Chapter 7

Tom's prediction that he'd be able to swiftly master the bluebell flame proved accurate. Perhaps it was because his own carefully banked but ever burning hatred of his father was in the back of his mind and influencing him, but it seemed he had an easier time with the element of fire than he had of water. His first attempt had caused little flickers of flame to appear, the second he managed a slightly larger and longer lasting set of flames, and the third was success. Tom conjured a series of bluebell flames and made them disappear, and each time they burned in a neatly self-contained ball of heat.

Pleased with his success and confident he would be able to do so again on a different day, Tom began trying to produce the smokescreen spell when he could hear the bells of the clock in the distance chiming for half past the hour.

While the bluebell flames may have been easy for him to master, Tom had yet to produce more than some small wisps of smoke when he heard the bells ring one o'clock. Given the more complex nature of this conjuring spell, however, Tom had already anticipated that may be the case. The flames, while somewhat difficult to be kept contained, were partially fueled by air and whatever miniscule things were floating about in it. The smoke had to be entirely conjured out of thin air, with no source but magic to create and sustain it.

Tom took a short break to check over his notes on the smokescreen spell, making certain he was remembering the instructions properly. When he was satisfied that he was indeed remembering everything he needed to, he resumed his practice.

When the bells rang half past the hour again, Tom was managing to produce thicker and longer tendrils of smoke that wavered out from his wand much like the snakes he could speak with. He just needed to work on dispersing the smoke now, letting the tendrils meld together and form the proper unbroken cloud of smoke. Despite his initial estimations, he was feeling reasonably confident with his progress over the last hour and felt he may actually get this spell down properly before the weekend.

Tom was working on thinning out the tendrils of his most recent attempt at creating a smokescreen when his concentration was utterly shattered by a series of screeches from what sounded like a hawk, and heard what sounded like firecrackers and little explosions. His dark gaze went towards the mouth of the alley and he saw the viper slithering as fast as it could towards him. Either someone was setting off some purchases from Gambol and Jape's, perhaps to torture an animal by strapping the fireworks to them, which wouldn't be surprising in this neighborhood; or there was some sort of magical fight breaking out in the street, which was also not unusual for this neighborhood.

"What is that noise?" He hissed down at the snake, wanting to gauge how much danger he was in where he currently was.

Before the snake could answer, Tom heard another crackle and a girl's scream followed almost immediately after. There was laughter from an unknown number of people, what sounded like boys.

"Wizards chasing witch," the snake hissed up at Tom, coming to rest several feet from the base of the fire escape.

Whatever the snake hissed next, Tom couldn't make it out because the hawk's screeches were renewed and closer now, and there were long screams coming from a male of indeterminate age. From the high pitch, probably a rather young boy.

Tom's attention was drawn to a witch with long black hair and flowing green robes darting across the mouth of the alley, but being brought up short as a spell shot in front of her. She swerved towards the alley and then came up short again, clearly realizing she had nowhere to run. She didn't notice him above her in her panic, but he had a few seconds to notice she had pale skin, ruby red lips, and bright violet eyes that were wide with alarm as she realized her predicament. Nor did she notice the viper not five feet away from her, who had slithered back at her approach and was now poised to strike if she came any closer.

The witch quickly turned back the way she came and waved a pale wand toward the mouth of the alley, but nothing happened.

Tom heard a strange combination of rapid chirps, growls and hisses from the witch. He had no idea what she was saying, but apparently the viper did.

"A mistress?" The viper hissed at the witch, lifting its head higher to be seen.

The witch turned in surprise and hissed back, "Please, help me."

Tom's shock at hearing another able to speak to snakes was deterred for the moment as he saw her attackers entering the alley, and recognized the three of them immediately as the ruffians who hung out a few blocks over. The one who had gotten his ears boxed by his father for stealing shot a disarming spell at her, as a small hawk harried another of the wizards who Tom was fairly certain was a slightly older cousin from their resemblance.

The dark-haired witch deftly ducked away from the magic, hissing again at the snake. "Get the wizards! Please! I think they want to kill me!"

The viper hissed angrily and looked in the direction of the wizards. The older cousin was getting his wand hand torn open by the furious hawk and his wand dropped as he yelled in pain. The younger cousin, the thief, turned his attention on the hawk, leaving the eldest boy to deal with the witch. The viper began a speedy slither in their direction, keeping in the shadows next to the wall to avoid notice. Fortunately for Tom, the other wizards were so preoccupied by the witch and her hawk that they hadn't noticed him yet.

"Nowhere to go now, you little foreign bitch," said the tallest of the boys, who had greasy black hair and cruel grey eyes. Tom remembered hearing his name said by his friends- Antonin. "You and your damn bird have run out of places to hide and you're going to pay for Fenrir and Jerome getting bloodied up."

Ah, apparently the first male screams he had heard was the fourth boy he usually saw with these three. Funny, he didn't know a brute like that could scream in such a high pitch.

The witch threw herself to the ground to avoid the streak of red light Antonin aimed in her direction. She yelled back with blatant anger, voice thickly accented, "If you Ladri hadn't stolen my money, they wouldn't have gotten scratched up!"

Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she had to roll across the ground because a yellow light came flying at her.

Tom was quickly calculating the situation out and coming to a surprising realization. Raven haired and violet eyed witch, obviously foreign from her accent, dressed in silk robes and shoes, with a hawk doing its damnedest to protect her as a familiar would. A hawk that he'd be willing to wager the next three weeks lunch money was a merlin, even if he couldn't see it that well with all its movement to be sure. Apparently the local riffraff had decided to steal from who he'd bet all his money, for both lunch and his remaining school supplies, was the Headmaster's daughter newly brought from Italy. He hadn't heard she could speak to snakes, though that wasn't surprising as he had been able to tell from Professor Dumbledore's reaction that it was something most wizards didn't seem to appreciate and would be best left unsaid.

Tom was wondering if these boys, who likely went to Hogwarts or would be due to go this autumn, were absolute brain-dead idiots to target the daughter of their Headmaster, and wondering where the hell the witch's father was for all this- when a cutting hex of some sort hit the hawk and it let out a screech of pain.

"Cretini! I swear I'll feed you Shnga to the rats for that!" the witch screamed, pushing herself up from where she lay.

Before she could get to her feet and do anything, though, a red light hit her directly in the chest, sending her flying backwards towards the brick wall at the end of the alley. A moment after Antonin got the spell off, the viper was sinking his fangs into the wizard's ankle and then making a speedy retreat.

Tom made the split-second decision to reveal his presence and risk the wrath of the ruffians to help the witch and possibly earn the good favor of her and her father. Three out of four were already injured, so his odds at winning were certainly good.

"Spongify! Spongify!" Tom called out twice as he channeled magic through his yew wand, aiming for the wall the witch was about to collide with and the ground in front of it. Not waiting to see the results as two bursts of yellow light left the tip of his wand, trusting in his ability to properly cast a spell he had cast several dozen times in practice, he turned his attention to the attackers.

"Expelliarmus!" Tom said, aiming for the uninjured thief, whose attention was torn between fending off the hawk and trying to keep in sight the viper who had bitten his friend. The wand went flying from the thief's hand. Before Antonin, who was scrabbling away from the viper and yelling that he needed a healer, had a chance to see who was attacking the group, Tom disarmed him as well.

Unfortunately, the older cousin who had gotten his wand hand torn up had retrieved his wand and taken note of Tom up on the fire escape. Ignoring the blood flowing from his hand, he sent a yellow hex hurtling at Tom. His aim was off, though, and Tom only had to move a few inches to avoid the spell.

It was a good thing his reflexes were sufficient and the boy's aim was poor, however, because the spell cut straight through one of the decorative iron posts on the support railing.

That could have potentially maimed him for life, if not taken his head or another appendage clean off.

Tom ducked another cutting hex sent at him, attention back on the other wizard. This wasn't just about winning favor now. No, this was now personal and he was truly furious.

Tom sent one, two, three severing charms in rapid succession at the wizard. His wouldn't be as powerful as the boy's hexes, but he was counting on his speed and aim to even that out. His opponent clearly hadn't expected someone as young as him to be able to do much more than light up his wand or disarm someone because his eyes widened as he saw the charms flying back at him. He managed to duck the first one, but had to move to his left to avoid getting closer to the viper, which Tom had hoped he'd do. The boy couldn't throw himself far enough to avoid the second and third charms and they sliced into the side of his torso and left arm. Tom had been hoping to perhaps get somewhere more serious, but they were still hits.

The boy the hawk had been attacking was now sporting several gouges along his arms, from trying to fend off attacks to his face.

Antonin was shaking as the viper's poison started to affect him and apparently realized they had lost this fight. "Alright! Fuck! We give! Both of you call off your bloody familiars already!"

"Zephyr, come here," the witch called out, voice breathless.

The viper wasn't Tom's familiar and he didn't want to make the other wizards aware he could speak to snakes, but the viper had pulled back anyway to avoid getting crushed under foot and was slithering beneath the trash in the alley. So Tom disarmed the boy he had injured and then spared a brief glance in the witch's direction. He could see that she was standing and appearing mostly well, though her once fine robes were filthy and she was clutching her abdomen with one arm, obviously in pain and struggling to take even breaths. Hopefully that was only from whatever spell Antonin had shot at her, and not one of his missing their mark. As there was the concern of the other wizards trying to get their wands back, Tom quickly returned his gaze to them. He'd have to deal with the chance of a misplaced spell after.

The hawk was giving a final screech in rebuke to the boys, but did as his witch commanded and returned to her. Instead of letting her hold it and tend its injuries, though, it circled around her protectively, ready to make another attack in her defense. That proved not to be an unnecessary move because as soon as the hawk was back with its witch, all three disarmed wizards tried grabbing for their wands.

"Flipendo! Expelliarmus! Flipendo!" Tom called out as he swiftly made the corresponding movements for the Knockback Jinx at Antonin, used the return movement to again disarm the older cousin who had just wrapped his fingers around his wand, then used another knockback jinx on the thief. His hand could just barely move fast enough to keep up with the words, but he managed to execute all three spells. He had the satisfaction of seeing that the Knockback Jinx worked just as well on people as it did on the stones he had been practicing on; both boys hit with it went elbow over arse and sprawling on the pavement a few feet away from where they started. The older cousin lost his hold on his wand and flew several feet back with the disarming spell. Not bad effects for a couple of spells found in a first year Defense book.

"You can come back for your wands another day and hope until then that I've left them in one piece," Tom called down as the boys groaned from their prone positions, trying to keep his excitement about successfully pulling off the spells contained so he wouldn't give away that this was his first duel and winning one was a new thing for himself. "You'd get that and more if the Aurors are called and they find out you robbed and attacked this witch. Now, return what you've stolen. Then get yourselves to your fathers so they can try to patch you up or take you to Mungo's for treatment."

"Bugger… Off…" Antonin coughed out, though it was clearly in defeat. "Jerome… help me up… Now…"

The older cousin of the thief, Jerome, helped said thief to his feet first. The boy leaned against the wall of Ariadne's for support as he waited for his cousin to help Antonin to his feet. Antonin couldn't properly support himself at this point, however, and yelled in pain when he tried to put weight on his bitten leg. Jerome had to help him make his way out of the alley.

"Flipendo!" Tom called out as he twirled his wand in the thief's direction, who had been trying to follow the other two boys out of the alley. The Knockback Jinx sent him crashing back into the wall he had been using for support.

The other two boys paused to see what happened, mostly because the older cousin clearly wasn't going to leave the thief on his own, even with as ill as Antonin was.

Tom yelled over at the thief, allowing some of his disdain to show as he taunted, "Was I too unclear for a petty thief to understand? Let's try this again, and I better not need to say it a third time- You're not leaving with the lady's money. Give it back, immediately."

The thief gave Tom a vicious glare, but his cousin said sharply, "Just toss it back, you bloody wanker. This wasn't worth whatever few galleons or handful of sickles you got off the foreign bitch."

The thief turned his glare on his cousin, but then sighed and one of his bloody hands went into a pocket in his trousers. He pulled out a small cloth pouch and chucked it at the witch. The pouch came up short by several feet, but at least it was in her direction. Jerome turned back around and continued on his way out of the alley with Antonin. The thief took off after his companions, keeping a wary gaze on Tom the entire time.

Tom withheld from any further attacks, as it would have been poor form to attack someone who had given up and was retreating. When the boys were out of sight, he turned his gaze back to the witch. She was watching him warily and still breathing heavily.

Well, he couldn't really blame her for the look she was giving him, given what just happened with four other wizards from Britain. He'd need to convince her that he didn't mean her any harm, otherwise she might sic that hawk of hers on him. He was pretty sure he could handle the hawk with a few well-placed spells before it could reach him, but it was fast, and harming it would certainly lose any good favor with the witch that he might earn from having helped her.

Knowing she'd understand him, Tom took a calculated risk and hissed to her, "Are you badly injured?"

The witch's eyes widened with shock, her jaw slackening, though not quite dropping. Her falcon landed in front of her and stared at him with its head quirked to one side in confusion.

After a few seconds, the girl collected herself and hissed back between breaths, "How can you, speak like, a snake?"

"Same as you, I think," Tom said with a small smirk.

The girl blinked in surprise. She gave a nervous laugh, then winced in pain. She said in accented English, "Not exactly, the same, I think." Her expression became inquisitive as she continued looking up at him. "What are you, doing, up there, anyway?"

"I asked you a question first and it seems to be the more important. You can't even finish a sentence without flinching and gasping in pain."

The witch hesitated then said, "I'll be fine. He just, knocked the, breath out of me, with his, stupid little spell."

Tom's eyes narrowed on her. "You're lying." The witch's expression became surprised. "Did one of my spells miss its mark?'

The witch hesitated again to answer, then shook her head. "No. And thank you, for whatever, you did. I'd be worse, if I had hit, that wall, or ground, as they were."

"Can I come down without you sending your hawk after me?" Tom asked, composing his expression to one of concern.

The witch hesitated a third time, then nodded and said, "Zephyr, stay put. He's helping."

The hawk, which was indeed a merlin, gave a wary nod, but kept his gaze on the wizard.

Tom grabbed his bags and climbed down the ladder with haste. He said as he descended, "While I doubt they'll want to tell their fathers what happened to get them so banged up because they're the ones who would be in the worst kinds of trouble for this, one of them has a snake bite, the other three have injuries from your hawk, and one of those three has some nasty cuts from my spells. Someone is going to come looking for their wands and the ones that injured them." Tom jumped the last few steps and looked at the witch. "If you can walk for a few minutes at least, it'd be best for us to leave before we get caught here; otherwise you might be in some trouble for sending your familiar and a deadly viper at them, and I could get in some trouble for dueling, even in defense of another." He conveniently forgot to add that he could be in trouble for underage magic specifically. He already had had an excuse he thought was believable if he somehow got caught practicing this summer, and that needed a veil of ignorance to work.

The girl considered his words and then nodded. "I think, I can move, alright. It's just, my ribs. I think, that spell, might have, bruised, one or two."

"Do you feel anything strange where the spell hit, besides pain?"

"Like what?"

"Like any magic remaining and potentially doing something worse than a few bruised ribs?"

The girl didn't immediately answer, but this time she was clearly paying attention to her injury. "No. I think, knocking me off, my feet, and some bruising, was all he did."

Tom nodded and retrieved her money pouch, noticing when he picked it up that it was thickly woven, incredibly soft cotton heavily embroidered with silk threads. Pushing aside for the moment his instinctive resentment towards those who could afford such niceties, he brought the pouch over to her.

"Thank you," the raven-haired witch said, tucking it into a pocket in her robes.

"Are you sure you can make it out of here?" Tom asked doubtfully. She looked like she was having a hard enough time staying on her feet.

She nodded, then bit her lower lip as she looked around. She gasped out, sounding embarrassed, "I have, no idea, where to go. This is, my first time, at Dia-agon…" Her words broke off as her legs buckled and her wand fell from her hand, clattering to the ground.

Tom quickly grabbed hold of her before she could hit the ground and pulled her back to her feet, having half-expected that to happen with how pale and shaky she looked. Her hawk was giving little concerned screeches as it scrabbled to get out from in front of her.

The witch's breathing was more ragged as she grabbed the front of his robes to help steady herself. "S-Sorry," she gasped out. "I'm sorry. I'm just, a little, dizzy."

Tom eased her to the ground as carefully as he could, hoping the merlin wouldn't go for his eyes because it thought he was to blame for her condition. "You're not going to be able to go anywhere like this. You need a healer."

"No! No, healer," she immediately protested. "I'll be, fine. Just, need, a minute, to catch, my breath."

"Yeah, and I'm the Headmaster of Hogwarts," Tom retorted sarcastically.

The girl glared up at him and then hung her head. She gave a pained laugh. "No, actually, that'd be, my father…" She gave an unhappy, long groan now. "He's going, to be, so mad, at me, for this… First time, he leaves me, alone… and this happens."

"It's not like you asked to be robbed," Tom said with a shrug, glad she took his bait and mentioned her father, but not commenting on it. "Though chasing after him wasn't the smartest idea, especially as you can't seem to do any magic yet."

The girl's head lifted and violet eyes were glaring at him again. "I only got, my wand, today."

Tom raised an eyebrow in surprise, not realizing her first time out shopping in Diagon Alley was also her first day with her wand. He'd have figured her father would have had a private audience with Ollivander or something when he first brought her here to England, or that she had gotten her wand in Europe. Instead, he simply said, "And that makes it better how? That was more reason to just let him have the pouch and call for help."

"I thought, Zephyr, and I, could handle, him," the witch said in her defense. "I didn't know, he had, friends waiting."

"Where there's one street rat, there's usually more," Tom said wryly.

The girl shrugged. "You didn't, answer, my question. What were, you doing, up there?"

"Practicing my spell work."

The witch gave him a confused look. "Do you live, around here?"

Tom shook his head. "No, but I can't practice there."

He didn't want to talk about the orphanage with the witch, so he instead stood and looked around, trying to think of what to do now. He could hear the bells ringing for two o'clock. He wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed since the fight first broke out in this alley, but they really needed to get out of here, and she needed a healer to look at her. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of anything in his limited spell repertoire that would be able to help. He had been practicing the basic levitation spell at the beginning of the Charms book, and innately could make small objects levitate, but he knew he couldn't lift something as heavy as the witch yet, not without jostling her around because he wouldn't be able to keep her steady, which would aggravate her injury.

"How the bloody hell are we going to get you out of here?" he muttered in frustration.

The witch looked around and then sighed. "I don't know… But, I think, you're right… I'm not going, anywhere, on my own." The hawk started chirping and clucking at the witch. She nodded and then said, "I can send, Zephyr, for my, father. You can leave, if you want, to avoid, trouble, for defending, me."

"And leave you alone, without even the hawk to protect you?" Tom asked incredulously. "You did want to make it out of this alley, right? What if one of the fathers of those boys shows up and decides to finish you off to eliminate a witness to what they did? With only me left, if they didn't get to me as well, do you think the Aurors will take my word over all theirs? Not likely. You might want to think about what sort of people hang around here before suggesting anything else that stupid."

"You were, here, alone," the witch retorted.

"I can take care of myself well enough," Tom said briskly. "This is the first problem I've had in the month I've been coming here to practice. I don't go looking for fights."

The witch sighed, apparently too exhausted from trying to breathe and talk to argue further. She finally said, "Sorry, for ruining, your practice," and she actually did sound apologetic.

Tom shrugged. "Not like you meant to. Besides, it could always count as a practical exam on what I've learned."

As hoped, the witch laughed, albeit briefly because of her injury.

"What's your name, by the way," Tom asked.

"Ama- Amaryllis," the witch gasped out. "Amaryllis, Dippet. And you?"

Tom crouched down again and held out his hand. "Tom Marvolo Riddle."

The witch looked at his hand in surprise, then reached out to shake it. Something like a static shock crackled as their hands met, causing them both to jerk their hands away in pained surprise.

"What the…" Tom cut himself off before he ended up cursing again. Cursing was vulgar and he was working on breaking that habit so he wouldn't debase himself like most of the children at the orphanage frequently did.

"You didn't, do that?" Amaryllis asked, looking at him warily.

He shook his head. "Might be that spell that sent you flying is doing more damage than you thought."

She nodded and said weakly, "Must be it. I need, my father."

"Go ahead, send your familiar for him. I'll wait here with you."

Amaryllis nodded. "Thank you." She said something to the bird in that weird clicking and chirping language.

The hawk, which had been resting itself near her legs wearily, looked at Tom in clear mistrust and clucked back.

The witch interrupted sharply with a small screech and then a few chirps and clicks.

Zephyr relented and, after giving Tom a final wary look, hoisted itself up, injured leg trembling.

Amaryllis reached over and grabbed it by the midsection as she said something to it in the strange bird-like language. The bird spread out its wings and she tossed it straight up, gasping in pain as she did so. The bird was able to use the momentum to lift itself into the air, wings beating hard to gain altitude. It managed to stay airborne and flew higher, then took off in the direction of Carkitt Market.

"Tom?" the witch said in a breathless whisper.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning his attention back to her and noticing she was paler than ever.

"D-don't, tell," Amaryllis struggled to form the words as she started to slump to one side, causing Tom to have to grab her by the shoulders to keep her from toppling over. She blinked rapidly and tried again, words barely audible as she resorted to hissing them out. "Don't tell, my father, you hear, me, speak, to, Zephyr, or snake…"

"I won't tell, but you need to stay awake," Tom said back in hisses, tone making it an order, not a request.

"Don't, think, I…" and with that, the girl's eyes rolled back in her head and she went completely limp.

Tom looked down at the unconscious witch in his arms with more than a small amount of exasperation. This was not the least how he expected his day to go. Hopefully he could put the right spin on this; otherwise he might be initially blamed for her injury until she came to and verified his story. He was fairly confident in his acting skills, however, and that he had a good enough cover, especially as so much of the truth would work in his favor.

Well, he'd just have to wait and see. Hopefully that damn hawk wouldn't be too long, Tom thought as he very slowly shifted the witch so she was laying a little flatter. Being crunched over like that wasn't helping her breathing any, and he needed her to wake up and help keep him out of trouble.

Tom had to flex the muscles in his arm beneath Amaryllis's back; it was starting to go numb from holding her. He glanced down at her in frustration. Playing the 'good Samaritan' was a lot of trouble and she had better appreciate this. Especially as he undoubtedly just made himself a few enemies, before the school year even started. Those scales needed to at least balance out, preferably tip in his favor.

He had been hoping just a few hours ago for the chance to make a good impression on the Headmaster's daughter, and he had been given that chance. He'd say he did a passable job of things. It would have been better if he could have gotten her out of the alley on his own, but he had done what he could given the circumstances and his current knowledge of magic. Fate seemed to be smiling on him and giving him opportunities to learn a lot of important things about the wizarding world, and now it dropped this opportunity quite literally in his lap. Hopefully fate held out a bit longer and this situation played out in his favor, rather than to his detriment. If it did, it'd be just another sign that he was correct in his instincts that he was destined to succeed and have the wizarding world and all the wonders of magic in the palm of his hand someday.

Tom tilted his head a little as he stared at the witch's features, now having the chance to do so. The gossiping witch in the market was right, he could admit as a detached clinical observation. The Headmaster's daughter was very pretty in a classical sense- heart shaped face, symmetrical and proportional features, pale skin that was probably flawless when it wasn't covered in dirt from rolling around on the ground, long thick black eyelashes and naturally red lips that were full. Barring suddenly coming down with Dragon Pox or some other horribly scarring disfigurement, she was almost guaranteed to grow up to be an extraordinarily beautiful witch.

That was always a plus. He had heard on more than a few occasions that he was an attractive boy. Regardless of what people said about what's inside being important, he noticed they still instinctually treated attractive people like himself more favorably than ugly people. Being considered attractive seemed to help balance out in people's eyes that he was a poor kid, and then showing any sort of intelligence pushed their opinions of him further into the positive. If his plan worked out and the Headmaster's daughter ended up being one of the many he'd charm and have influence with, her being attractive physically, and not just financially or mentally, and drawing people to her because of it would mean more people for him to interact with and hopefully gain influence with.

But, first things first- he had to make sure he had her solidly on his side before he could make use of her. And to do that, he needed to make sure this incident went in his favor.

Time to pull out the acting skills and hope for the best when her father arrived.