MARIE & MARVOLO part 1
by
aka Yeauxlanda Fibonacci
MARIE & MARVOLO
By: Yeauxlanda Fibonacci
"When you fish for love, bait with your heart, not your brain." ~Mark Twain"
Go to your bosom knock there and ask your heart what it doth know." ~Willliam Shakespeare
PROLOGUE
The wooden stool made his feet in cardboard shoes dangle oddly since they couldn't reach any rungs of the stool. He knew he looked absolutely ridiculous to everyone."I could kill you all if I want."What are they staring at anyway? Are they taking note of his smallness? An eleven year old trapped in the body of a six year old? Is it because his socks are mismatched and "sleepy"? Or how his ears stick out from his orphanage bowl cut of dark hair?"Stop staring. I can make every one of you sorry. I can make you fall down and hurt yourselves...bad. All I have to do is think it."Suddenly a voice bellows out from above him."Such a powerful mind this one has. Intelligent enough to be in Ravenclaw however there is so much more here to consider..."He started looking all around for who the voice was coming from. Then an old worn leather hat drops down on his head, pulling in his protruding ears and squeezes tightly."Ah yes. I must hold fast to gather all that is here! Intelligence, Passion, Imagination, Courage, Industriousness, Vision, Heart, Complexity...GREATNESS! Not only will you leave a mark on our world but the Muggles' as well...SLYTHERIN!"Just then he watched about a quarter of the audience smile at him and he wasn't offended."What on Earth is a SLYTHERIN?"
SOUTHPAW
The shop is dark and dusty. And one would think that it would smell of mildew or rooms that have been shut up too long but it didn't. It smelled of cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg, oddly enough."My family has been selling wands to witches and wizards for generations. There is no one who I cannot match.""I just don't think there is a wand for me.", says the tiny boy. "I mean, how could there be?""Your wand came into existence the moment you were born, little wizard. What is your name?""Tom. Tom Riddle." He says with a sigh. He always hated his name. It was his father's."I assure you it's here somewhere." Olivander lays a finger on the side of his nose and beams at the boy. "Elm and Dragon Heartstring.""What?!" He . Olivander runs back into his eternal stacks of wand boxes and disappears. All Tom could hear was shuffling and muttering."Where on Earth?...I know it's here...it must be right in front of my face...AH! HERE WE ARE!"The little man, with a shock of golden and silver hair, like he's caught in a constant state of static electricity, scurries to the front counter where Tom is standing and hands him a long, slender wand box."Try this..."Tom stares at Mr. Olivander dumbly."Well, go ahead and open it."Reluctantly, he opens the box and sees what looks like a tree branch with an intricately carved handle with owls, stars and crescent moons."Grab a hold of it boy!"Tom, unlike any other time when it came to someone telling him what to do, did exactly as he was told. And as soon as his fingers wrapped around the handle the few lights that were in the shop blew out with a thunderous crackling and buzz."Well, I was wrong about that one!" Mr. Olivander waves his wand, "Lumos!" and restores the few lights in the shop and then looks at Tom very closely, taking in his tiny frame and dramatic dark eyes.
"Mahogany and Chimera Blood!" He bends down to Tom and whispers, "It's a new technique in wand making,... liquid core." He darts off into the stacks again."This man is crackers." Tom says to himself but hoping Olivander hears walks back to Tom with a confident smile and wand box in hand."This wand is ahead of its time and the craftsmanship is simply beautiful."He ceremoniously presents Tom with a wand box as if it contained the Crown , despite himself, is impressed and opens the box with great anticipation. The newness of the box pops open from the taut cardboard, and he sees some of the most exquisite artistry that his young eyes had ever seen. The mahogany was flawless. The wood was without seam, crack or defect and faint crimson veins ran through the wand evenly with precision and chaos. It was so smooth that it begged to be brought to the extends his hand...and the wand first crouches and cowers in the box and then piddles out all the iridescent, neon Chimera blood in fear."Oh drat! I had heard about this sort of thing happening but I didn't believe it!"Mr. Olivander looked at the Chimera blood puddle and the quivering wand dejectedly. "Bollocks". He shrugs his shoulders and walks back into the stacks muttering and suddenly Tom hears him ask, "What types of wands did your parents have?""I didn't know my mother. She died when I was born and my father is...a...mmm...muckle.""Muggle". Was your mother a witch?""I'm not sure. I just found out that I was a wizard." That sentence sounded supremely strange to Tom and even more strange to stumbled out of the wands looking at Tom perplexed. "You're not a full blood?""A what?""You don't come from two magic parents? Astonishing, you possess such power.""I do?""Yes, I can see it. People must have misunderstood you greatly before coming here."Tom felt a sigh rise in his heart but he was determined to stifle it before it turned into tears."I guess." says Tom."Let's see if your mother was indeed a witch. Follow me."
Tom follows Olivander to the back of the shop through the maze of wand boxes that were categorized by region and wood type; Scotland: Rowan, North America: Oak, Egypt: Fig, China: Golden Larch. They are the only handwritten signs he can see at eye level. At least fifty wand boxes are on each shelf and the shelves stretch from floor to finally reach a modest office with a fireplace, shaggy rugs and overstuffed chairs. Olivander brings Tom to his roll top desk in the corner, opens it and takes out two vials hidden in one of the secret drawers."You must never tell a soul that we did this. The Ministry of Magic doesn't look fondly on independent parentage tests." "Why?" Asked Tom, running his hand across the smooth desktop."Oh, they fear that people will start conducting their own tests and create factions based on the results. Breaking our world up into tribes rather than just one global community. But I say rubbish! That would never happen. I need to know the make up of the witch or wizard who is my customer. My family has built its reputation for centuries on quality matching and we do it by knowing what magic bloodlines flow through our customers. And if my customer comes from non magic folk, I document the new magic line in our records. Now, please remove your left shoe and sock and spit into this vial."Tom removes his shoe and sock and stands unevenly on one of the shaggy rugs, takes the vial and spits into it. Olivander quickly snatches the vial and pours the contents into the other vial that Tom thought was empty but his saliva pours in like ink into water and turns bright emerald green."Well you are most assuredly a Slytherin. I've never seen anything like this. Here."Olivander hands the glowing green vial back to Tom."Hold it in your left hand over your head and breathe in deeply three times. Long, deep breaths Tom."Tom decides he will entertain Olivander's madness just to see how far it will go. He makes a great show of taking the vial and putting it over his head. But when he starts breathing he feels a warm peaceful feeling flow down his arm and into his body causing his breathing to be unbroken and steady. As this is taking place, all of Tom's left side shines with a brilliant emerald green aura and he is caught up in the reverie of it all, serenity, belonging and a feeling he had never felt before, love. Suddenly, Olivander's voice interrupts.
"You're mother was a witch from a very powerful bloodline, Tom. Maybe you deserve the best I have, Holly and Phoenix tail feather.""Okay." Tom says sleepily coming out of his dream state, blinking back into this new and unusual opens another desk drawer in front of Tom and pulls out a plain pine box and hands it to him."If this is indeed your wand Tom, you must take care of it, you must respect it. It will take care of you if you take care of it. No leaving it anywhere. No carelessness. No horseplay. Wizardry is a very serious business my boy. You must do your mother and all of your ancestors proud." Tom opens the box and sees a simple wand without decoration and he loves it at first sight.
SERENDIPITY
Being a First-year had it's triumphs and challenges. Tom was finally excited about school and he wanted to learn everything. He consumed knowledge as if he were famished. His Slytherin housemates treated him with respect out of courtesy. He was a poor orphan with no connections or power. So they tolerated him. And the students from other houses had no courtesy to bind them. They were downright across the grounds to his next class Tom noticed a strange emotion filling in his heart that he will later learn is "delight". He is finally going to get the chance to prove himself in front of all these gits and wankers, should someone try something in this moment."So, I heard that you were a proper thief before you came here Riddle!", says a lanky third year HufflePuff boy who is mostly Adam's apple, neck and nose. "Is that why your parents put you in an orphanage? To save themselves the embarrassment of having a thieving squib for a son?" Tom has no idea what a "squib" is but he certainly did not like the sound of it. So, he balls up his fists to charge at the boy after he wished him to fall to the ground. But then he remembers that he has a wand. It seemed as if that as soon as he thought of his wand that it jumped into his fingers. He didn't know any spells really. He had heard a few since being at Hogwarts but only remembered one..."LUMOS!"A shaft of light shoots from his wand and dissipates since it is daytime and they were outside. Everyone starts laughing at him."Lumos?!" You must be dafted!", cried the HufflePuff boy. The people pointing and laughing infuriates Tom to no end.
"My goodness how did you become a master thief? You're so STUPID!" The students' laughter fills the courtyard and ricochets off of the buildings. Tom feels his heart shrink inside his chest and his arms go weak. He has no idea what to do to make them all stop. And then for no reason he waves his wand and speaks a language he thinks he's made up."SSSssseth, sssssah SSSssseth."Everyone stops laughing and shouting and instantly they are frozen into a shocked confusion."SSSssseth, sssssah ethsssSSS."Excitement bubbles up from Tom's innermost being. He sees fear spinning in their eyes prompting him to yell his language louder and wave his wand faster."sssssah, ethsssSSS SSSssseth!""That's enough!" says a woman's voice that was suddenly coming down over him in a strange accent he had never heard before. Her hand gently closes around his fist holding the wand."Give me this please."Tom looks up and sees a beautiful woman with golden brown skin, long raven wavy hair and piercing gray eyes. He is awestruck. She repeats herself without changing her tone or calm temperament. "I said, give me this please."Tom lets go. He can't help himself. She gently takes the wand from Tom's hand while looking at him with what seemed to be a smile in her eyes. She then turns to the crowd that is standing dumbfounded with the same smiling eyes and graceful wave of her hand."Rescindo."Within seconds, all of the taunting students can move and speak."Professor! Did you see what that SQUIB did to us?! He should be expelled!", screams a plump girl from Ravenclaw. The golden brown woman with wavy raven hair answers with a cool rhythm to her words. It sounds like singing to Tom."Well, which is it? Is he a squib or did he perform a spell on you? ...It can't be both.""He...he performed a spell on us! You saw him do it.", says another Ravenclaw."Alright. Since you say he performed a spell on you all I'll thank you to not call him or anyone else here at school a squib. I don't like that.", said the Professor. "What was that he was saying?", demanded the lanky HufflePuff boy. "I've never heard any spell like that!""That's because you're STUPID!", shouts Tom as he lunges toward the professor puts her hand on Tom's shoulder, "Enough!" Tom composes himself and stands obediently beside the statuesque professor. "I'm sure you all have classes to get to! This isn't a holiday. Disperse!"All of the students and Tom gather their things and begin to leave. Tom turns to the professor meekly hanging his head, "May I have my wand back please?"She sets her gray eyed gaze on Tom, "No, come with me." He follows her but it isn't long before his footsteps turn into sullen stomping."Fine timing you have. You show up just to see me defend myself and I wind up in trouble. Everyone else gets to go back to class and I have to follow you to your office.", Tom breaking her stride or looking down at Tom, "Yes, I'm taking you to my office but who said you were in trouble?" "You saw me casting spells on students." Tom says quietly."Oh. So you know what you were doing was wrong?" "They have been picking on me since the first day I got here."Tom didn't pay attention to where they were going as they walked. He was busy feeling the injustice of his situation. But now he found himself standing beside the professor in a tower overlooking the greenhouses. She turns to him with a look of tenderness and points to a wooden door marked with Egyptian hieroglyphics. "In there please." She says with a reaches for the jackel-head door handle and turns it. Entering slowly, the smell of black licorice over takes him and he sees a clean orderly room with no lamps yet illuminated as if lit by it's own aura. The room is spartan in its decor; a large ebony wood desk, a chair that looked like what Tom saw in a book about the French Revolution, a statue of a woman with wings and a stool placed in front of the desk. Usually, empty rooms like this feel cold, antiseptic and uninviting. However, Tom felt welcomed in this room that had only four things yet very beautiful things. Tom wants to know about all of them. He walks over to the statue of the winged woman and looks up at it curiously. "Who is this?""That is Isis. The Egyptian goddess of magic, among other things.", says the professor proudly. "Have you ever heard of her?" "No.", Tom says embarrassed at his ignorance. "And the chair? That's from France isn't it?" "Very good Tom!", she gushes. "How did you know that?" "I saw it in a book once in the library at the orphanage. I didn't really read it. I just looked at the pictures." "I am in the presence of an expert of muggle history. Please have a seat on that stool."Tom goes to sit on the stool but he waits for the professor to take her seat in the fancy French chair. He sits and it automatically adjusts to his diminutive height so his feet won't professor snaps her fingers beside her right temple and her raven wavy hair quickly gathers into a ponytail traveling down her back."What's your name?, she asks.
"Tom Riddle.""Nice to meet you Mr. Riddle. I'm Professor Marie Laveau.""You talk funny.", says Tom without meaning to be insulting."You don't like my accent?""No, it's fine." He realizes that his comment was cruel. "I'm sorry, I've never heard anyone talk like that before. Where are you from?""Louisiana." "Where is that?", says Tom completely befuddled."America.""You're an American?!""Yes." The professor says laughing. "Is there something wrong with that?""N-n-no." Tom stammers. "I just never thought there were any witches or wizards in America.""Well there are plenty of us. So, tell me. Where did you learn to speak Parcel tongue?" "What's Parcel tongue?""You were speaking it when you cursed your school mates.""They aren't my school mates. They hate me. I hate them.", says Tom defiantly."You all attend the same school therefore you all are school mates."Tom is unimpressed by this obvious deduction and tries to get up to leave."May I go now?" The stool holds him fast."You can speak to snakes.", Professor Laveau says staring into his eyes. He couldn't tell if it was her magic or the stool's that was holding him there."I can talk to what?" "Snakes. You speak Parcel tongue perfectly. Did your parents teach you?""I never knew my parents." Tom doesn't like being interrogated. "May I go now?""No. I want to get to the bottom of this. That was a very dangerous incantation you were chanting. You could have done great harm."It takes all of his might but Tom bolts up steeled with rebellion. "GOOD! That's what I wanted! The stools tumbles over but immediately rights itself and pulls Tom back looks at Tom with amazement. "You are incredible Tom. It would be a shame to waste all that power on hate." "Hate makes me strong. When people are afraid of me, they leave me alone." "Do you really want to be alone Tom?" "I was alone in the orphanage. I've been alone all my life. I'm used to it." Marie's gaze on Tom becomes intensified and seems to penetrate down into his soul. Tom feels a rumbling in his stomach."I see through you Tom. I see a scared little boy that doesn't know love so he clings to hate." Tom fails at keeping tears from flowing down his cheeks. "I am adding my class to your schedule, Spells and Incantations. It's for advanced first year students and I think you will do well in it."Tom is still crying, "What if I don't want to?"A ledger and quill appear on her desk and she writes as she speaks. "The class is every day at 4pm. We will all have tea together and then proceed with class. Your text books and materials will be provided for you." She rips out the paper from the ledger and gives it to Tom. "Give this to the head of your house. I will see you tomorrow and don't be late."Tom takes the paper, folds it and puts it in his jacket pocket."What's Parcel tongue?", Tom asks knowing that he is trapped."We will cover that in class this quarter. I look forward to working with you Tom. You will amaze yourself. I'm sure."The stool relaxes it's grip on Tom and he stands and moves toward Marie to look closely at her to figure out if she is a friend or foe."You have nothing to fear from me Tom."He looks down at the ebony desk and the ledger and quill have disappeared. He studies the black wood grain patterns and they seem to morph into hearts as he stares at them and then back into their regular patterns. He runs his hand across the smoothness to get a sense of comfort. He gazes into Marie's eyes again to find any hint of danger. Finding none, he says, "I'll see you tomorrow."
SPELLS & INCANTATIONS
4 o'clock on the dot and the students rush in to take their seats. Professor Laveau is standing at the head of the class with four fine tea sets. There is fresh cream in various cow shaped creamers, sugar cubes stacked in pyramid shapes, silver teaspoons off to the side for any one who requires one and a cake stand replete with watercress finger first teapot is porcelain white decorated with blue Dutch windmills, wooden shoes and tulips. The tea within is Orange Pekoe. The second, bone china covered in shamrock patterns filled with Earl Grey. The third had a scatter rose pattern, with Russian Caravan tea. The fourth, violets, Marie's favorite, had Egyptian licorice tea. Marie chose to serve these teas to get a feel for the personality of the students. Those who chose Orange Pekoe tend to look for the sweetness in life and will do anything to avoid conflict. Students who chose Earl Grey always want to keep their wits about them. And be ready for any challenge that may come. Those who were adventurous enough to choose the Russian Caravan tea were wise beyond their years and took life very seriously. They work hard and play harder with serious intent. And students, who chose her favorite, Egyptian Licorice, were mysterious and loved to delve into the unknown. She believes them to be the visionaries of the class."Please come forward to take a cup and saucer." Professor Laveau says joyfully. "I will be mother and please take a sandwich or two if you wish. This is your time to socialize with your classmates, ALL of your classmates. I will be watching you. Speak a kind word to everyone. I will call you up by rows. Row 1, come forth!" The students come in an orderly fashion. Most of them are out of their element since they've only taken tea with their families and now here they are with a room full of strangers and an American professor playing mother. It is a truly unique experience but most of them are enjoying themselves nonetheless. Everyone has their tea and the students are learning if they are sugar and cream people, or just cream people, or just tea. Many students discover they hate watercress sandwiches. Too much like grass clippings on bread. The classroom is a social hall. Students milling about, saying hello, making small talk about the weather, voicing their concerns about their house's Quidditch teams and so on. Tom is the last to come forth. He has never taken tea in his life. He looks to Marie for help. "I don't know which tea I want." "Go by smell. Which smells the best to you?"Tom lifts the lid of the porcelain teapot with blue windmills to inhale the Orange Pekoe."That smells nice I guess."He then moves to the shamrock teapot and inhales the scent of Earl Grey. "That really doesn't smell like anything to me. He moves on to the scatter rose teapot to smell the Russian Caravan."Oh, that smells like a cigar box.", says Tom wincing and rubbing his nose. Finally he comes to the teapot covered in the patterns of Marie's favorite flower filled with her favorite tea. He inhales the black licorice smell and is reminded of Marie's office where he felt welcomed and where she saw through him."I'll try this one."Marie beams, "Would you like cream or sugar?""No thank you, I'll just drink it. Marie pours and hands him his cup and saucer which he takes like a perfect gentleman. "Thank you." He sips. The flavors move across his tongue and seem to awaken something inside of him. Apparently, he hadn't been alive until that moment. This tea is an elixir of life and heknew that it would be his favorite forever. "WOW!" Tom tries to gulp it down but he keeps burning himself. A small price to pay in his mind for such deliciousness."You like it?" Marie asks, grinning from ear to ear. "YES." "Good. I'm glad. Now go talk to people and be nice."
Just then a Gryffindor girl comes up to Tom. "Isn't that Egyptian Licorice tea the best?""It's the greatest thing I've ever tasted I could drink the whole pot!", says Tom. "I'll fight you for it.", laughs the girl. "My name is Tom Riddle. I'm a Slytherin." "I'm Violet Lovejoy. I'm a Gryffindor." "Violet?" like what's on this teapot?" "That's why I chose it. It kinda had my name all over it." Tom and Violet laugh together. Tom in this moment totally forgot about his declaration to Marie about wanting to be alone. Professor Laveau rings a crystal bell. "Attention! Attention everyone! Tea time is over. Please bring your cups and saucers to the front and place them on the trays. "As the students do as asked, Professor Laveau begins her lesson for the day."Why do you think I asked you to speak to one another nicely?"A Slytherin boy raises his hand. "Yes?" "Because that's what people at tea do. They speak nicely to one another." "That's true Mr. Crow. But why else do you think I asked you all to do this?"Violet's hand shoots up into the air. "Yes?" "Because words have power?" Professor Laveau smiles at Violet. "Yes! Words do have power. Any and all words have power. Any and all words are spells." "Ridiculous!" says a Gryffindor boy from the felt the urge to slap the boy for his rudeness."How can ALL words be a spell? That doesn't make sense."Tom stands and turns to face the insolent boy. "Well shut up so you can learn how, idiot."
The class is shocked and all of the goodwill from the social tea time has been expelled from the room."Thank you Mr. Riddle. That will be enough. Please take your seat. "Tom sits but not without staring down the Gryffindor boy as he does. "Mr. Molder, how do you feel right now?" asks the Professor. "I feel fine." the Gryffindor boy lies. "Really? You're not angry or hurt right now?" "Well yeah, I am." he sends an icy stare in Tom's direction. "Were you feeling like that earlier?" "No." he says, still smoldering.
"Would you agree that Mr. Riddle's words caused you to feel this way? They had an affect on you? Like a spell?
The Gryffindor boy is silent. Professor Laveau continues.
"Your words can alter reality. Magic is alive. It flows. It's fluid. It's ubiquitous as air. It sparks like lightning and is as firm a foundation as the earth beneath our feet."
She smiles at the class to let them know just how fortunate they are to have this lineage.
"Please open your Grimoires to page seventy-seven."
And with this simple lesson, Professor Laveau won over her class. Especially Tom, he was eager to learn whatever she and his other professors were willing to teach him.
The schedule for Tom's wizarding academics for this term:
Spells & Incantations with Professor Marie Laveau in the East Tower.
Potions in the dungeons taught by Professor Elixir Fruit, (pronounced FWEE) who is a tall thin man that speaks with a piercing high pitched nasal voice. And has an affinity for wearing multi colored handkerchiefs in his left breast pocket. Students have noticed he likes to pull these psychedelic fabrics out to touch his nose or brow for emphasis during lectures or to signal his winning a debate.
History of Magic taught by the late Professor Cuthbert Binns. Years ago Professor Binns caught fire in front of class in a freak magic accident. He now teaches from his portrait in the Lower East Corridor.
Defense Against The Dark Arts in the East Tower with Galatea Merrythought, who loves taffeta and sparkly things.
Herbology in the Greenhouse with Professor James Nightshade.
Transfiguration - Professor Albus Dumbledore, Lower floor East.
And…
Astronomy with The Nemean Lion, taught in a giant Observatory at night, on a hill, high on Hogwarts' grounds.
The steps built into the hill leading to class are steep and slippery. Many clumsy witches and wizards wind up in the infirmary drinking BONE-GRO in their attempt to get to class.
But Tom is sure footed and determined. He isn't going to let a misstep take him away from his studies.
Once inside, Tom notices markings on the walls, archways, and ceilings that he recognizes from the Muggle world. Zodiac symbols, Arabic letters, planets, stars and he also saw unfamiliar markings that he couldn't wait to inquire about.
In the vestibule leading to the classroom the students walk under a solid gold astrolabe rumored to be formerly owned by Leonardo Da Vinci. A Muggle many in the wizarding community suspected of being one of them.
The Observatory contains the largest telescope Tom has ever seen, well this is his first time seeing one but it's still quite impressive.
The students' desks surround the telescope in concentric circles with a Picatrix placed on each one. As the students take their seats an exceptionally loud sound of someone clearing their throat, almost like a roar, breaks up the meditative atmosphere. Then out steps from the other side of the huge telescope is a lion walking on his hind legs and standing at least nine feet tall. Tom is the only one shocked by this sight.
"That's a lion." Tom says louder than he intends.
"What did you think The Nemean Lion was supposed to be, a Teakettle?", asks a student incredulously.
Violet noticies Tom's reaction to the statement, "Nemean lions are descendants of the lion that wrestled Hercules and later became the constellation Leo. We're honored to have him teaching here."
The Lion steps down from the telescope as he addresses his students.
"Starlight is the marker for existence. The light is from far away stars long dead."
At that moment the ceiling of the Observatory cracks in a straight line down the middle and peels back to reveal a flawless night sky stippled with countless points of light. Tom and the rest of the class are awestruck. He wonders how he could have missed seeing something so beautiful that was right over his head every night he's been alive.
"Starlight bathes us here in the present.", says the Lion. "And the future...?" The Lion's amber eyes survey the room looking for a student to finish his sentence.
Silence.
Most of the students are still transfixed by the breathtaking canopy of stars hanging above them. The Lion tries again, "The future is...what?"
Silence.
"The future is...where?"
"Inside of us.", says Tom loud enough to be heard but an epiphany really meant for himself.
"YES!", roars the Lion joyfully. "Who said that?"
Tom pauses but speaks up finally, "I did."
"What made you say that little wizard?", questions the Lion while moving closer to Tom.
"It just seems right if starlight is from the past and it shines on us now the next logical place for the future to be is in us...I guess."
"You guess correctly.", says the Lion showing each fang and tooth in his grin of approval.
The Lion goes on, "The future is inside of each one of us. In our minds and hearts. It's what we decide it to be. What will be your decision?"
A student raises her hand.
"Yes?"
"How is it possible each of us contain the future. We can't want the same future."
"True.", says the Lion, "Everyone is different and will have different paths in life but how will your future affect others?"
"It won't.", blurts a Ravenclaw, "I'll keep to myself and mind my own business."
Tom hears this and winces a little. There was a time not long ago when he would have agreed wholeheartedly. But now things are different. He is slightly different.
"Keeping to yourself will not make a difference." says the Lion. "We are all connected. There is a strong chance your presence, if it's a good one, will be missed."
"What if my presence is bad?" asks the anti-social Ravenclaw.
"That's why I asked what will you decide for your future? Do you choose good or bad for your future? Do you choose to be good or bad in your future? It's just that simple. In this instance the stars and planets don't control this decision, you do."
The Lion takes in the blank faces staring at him.
"Moving on, as I said earlier we are all connected, not just to each other but to everything in the Universe. The moon's gravitational pull, planetary alignment, the trajectory of a comet light years away; all affect us and our magic."
This concept fascinates and excites Tom simultaneously. And he carries this spark with him to each class where he is bright and bristling with curiosity. Laser focusing on what each of his professors say and do for the rest of the term.
He doesn't really have to take notes in class. He drinks in the lessons like a boy escaping a knowledge desert. Which is what he is but he doesn't realize this.
Tom is just living from day to day. Beginning each one with excitement and a sense of adventure. And ending each day with unforced gratitude.
He isn't trying to achieve anything, except for being marked 'present' for all of his classes.
One day when he goes to the Great Hall for lunch he sees a throng of students huddled at the far wall by the House Point hourglasses.
"What's happening?" Tom asks one of his fellow Slytherin.
"The O.W.L.S. grades have been posted. Congratulations Tom!" And with these words the Slytherin boy extends his hand, which Tom takes befuddled.
"Why? What for?", asks Tom.
Violet sees Tom in the crowd and pushes her way through to him. "Tom you got the highest score on the O.W.L.S.!"
"What?" As Tom makes his way to the wall to see for himself he is met with more cheers and praises. There are a few murmurs of jealousy but he ignores them and sees his name in fancy lettering at the top of the long list of names. He can't wait to tell Professor Laveau.
This is the best autumn that Tom has ever experienced. He was noticing the beauty of the trees overwhelming him with gold, red and orange. The brisk air kissing his face making him feel alive and grateful. And the smell of fireplaces across campus making him feel at home. But then he realizes that he has never had a home so how could he know what that feels like? All of the joy began to drain from him, starting at his head where the thoughts sprouted, then down to his heart, causing a small ache before passing through to his stomach, down his slightly quivering legs to his feet and into the ground. The ground where he suddenly felt he really didn't belong. "I'm still at the orphanage.", he says to himself. And he brings to his mind images of his schoolmates, (he sees them as schoolmates now), receiving letters and gifts on birthdays and holidays or just for whatever reason; their parents bought a new puppy, their sister got engaged, the neighbor down the street did something silly as usual, their grandma sent fudge to share or someone checked in to see how their loved one was doing away from 's it. Tom isn't someone's loved one and he isn't away from something that he never had...a home. "What happens when Christmas comes?", he thinks to himself. "Everyone is going to leave to be with their families. What am I going to do? Stay here at Hogwarts all by myself, rattling from empty building to deserted hallway? That doesn't sound like a "Merry Christmas" to me.", he thinks. This spiral downward takes Tom so suddenly and so ferociously that he stands stark still in the brisk autumn air that just moments ago he was thankful for but now he is in the beginning throes of a full on panic attack. "Nothing has changed for me at all." Tears leap into his eyes again. It's been three months since they last took up residence there but here they are. Unwanted squatters, ruining what was a good day. Then he feels a familiar touch on his head. "Tom?" He turns to see Marie looking down at him with a concerned look. "What's wrong? "Tom quickly wipes his eyes and puts on a smile. He doesn't want to disappoint her. No, he doesn't want to worry her. She has done so much for him to make him feel welcome and he knows this. "Nothing! I was staring at the trees. Something blew into my eye. How are you?", he asks affecting the countenance of a little happy gentleman."I'm fine. Thank you for asking.", she says impressed with his manor."Tom, I wanted to ask you something. It's rather unusual. So please feel free to say no. You won't hurt my feelings.""I would never hurt you Professor!", Tom blurts before he knew he was speaking."I know that. Thank you. Well, Tom, in my country every third Thursday in November we celebrate Thanksgiving. It's to commemorate the Pilgrims arriving in the New World safely. I don't give a hoot about the Pilgrims. I celebrate all that I am thankful for with my friends and family back home. We have a giant turkey that takes all day to roast, honey baked ham, collard greens, baked macaroni and cheese, crawfish pie, oyster stuffing with Andouille sausage, candied yams, beets, glazed carrots, green bean casserole, cranberry mold, hot buttered rolls, with sweet potato pie and peach cobbler for dessert plus mint iced tea to wash it all down."Tom's stomach growls and he speaks to cover the rumble, "That's sounds good.""Wonderful. I was hoping you would approve of the menu. Would you like to come with me for Thanksgiving?" Tom wasn't sure he heard the last part of Marie's sentence correctly. He was hoping that his stomach wasn't playing a cruel joke on him. "I'm sorry, what did you just say Professor?""I know it's presumptuous of me to think that you'd be free or would want to come. But I think you would enjoy yourself. You would get a chance to go to America for a holiday as you Brits say. "Tom steels himself in his place to keep from jumping up into Marie's arms and crying yes all over her silk blouse and wool sweater. He straightens his back and looks into her eyes, "Yes, Professor I want to come to America with you.", Tom can't help himself. He's laughing and jumping up and down before he can finish his sentence and is grinning like the happiest boy on earth."Well look at that smile!" says Marie grinning herself. "Now we have to go to the Headmaster to ask for permission. If he says yes we'll leave next Tuesday. We'll have to clean the house and shop and cook and..."Tom grabs Marie's hand and excitedly starts dragging her in the direction of Brian Gagwilde's office. "Let's go ask him now! I'm sure he'll say yes! I'm positive he will! How could he say anything else?! "Marie and Tom run laughing together hand in hand back to the courtyard, across the cobblestones, through the breezeways, past curious onlookers of students and faculty, to the tower and up the steps to the Headmaster's office behind the golden phoenix."We haven't made an appointment.", says Marie. Tom doesn't hear her and goes directly to the receptionist."Professor Laveau and I would like to see the Headmaster if he is available please."The receptionist looks at Tom through glasses which are shaped in a star on the left and a half moon on the right. She speaks through bright red lipstick with tiny specks of it on her teeth, "Do you have an appointment?" "No...", Marie starts but she is quickly cut off by Tom's boyish insistence. "No we do not but it's urgent!" "Oh! It's urgent you say?", the receptionist asks falling under Tom's spell of joy and enthusiasm. "What's so urgent?""I need permission to go to America." Tom says proudly. "It's a family matter."
A JUMP ACROSS THE POND
Marie and Tom stand beside the statue of Isis in her office with their luggage. They both are efficient travelers, one suitcase each."This is my portkey Tom.", Marie says picking up her bag and gathering her shawl about her. "Portkey?" asks Tom? "It's a magical means of travel. We must touch it at the same time so we'll arrive together. We'll be in New Orleans in the blink of an eye.""How does-?""Ready Tom? One...two...THREE!"Marie and Tom touch the statue and instantly Tom sees the room around him gather up like fabric and whoosh upwards into nothingness. Now there is no up or down and it's neither dark nor light. It's both but not. He can feel that he is moving at incredible speed but there are no markers in sight to confirm his feeling. He knows that his body is traveling through space. But if this is space, where are the stars and planets?Just as Tom was about to really get a good look at what he was traveling through, he and Marie appeared in a box. A very tall box that smelled of cedarwood. Then Tom felt something brush across his face. It was a forest green silk dress. "Well we're here!", Marie says excitedly. She presses her hand on the "box" and it opens to reveal a beautiful bedroom with a four poster bed with a multi colored quilt and four enormous white pillows. There is a nightstand with a brass lamp, a dressing table, bureau and a chair in the corner. Tom steps out of the "box" and sees that it is a wardrobe, Marie's wardrobe. This is Marie's bedroom. "Home sweet home!", Marie says throwing her suitcase on the bed to unpack. "We're in New Orleans?" asks Tom."Yes! I'll finish unpacking later. I'll give you a tour. "Marie takes Tom's hand and walks out into a short hallway past the alabaster bathroom that Tom noticed had an oversized clawfoot bathtub and into the living room that was full of color and life. There were plants and birds in birdcages, a giant goldfish bowl, an orange cat sleeping in a sunbeam on the sofa, a brown dog that looked more like a bear stretched out on the rug on the floor and coiled up by the fireplace was what Tom thought was a snake but it was white. "Professor, what's that?" Tom asked pointing in the direction of the thing by the fireplace."Oh, that's Zombi, my pet python. "Marie starts speaking Parcel tongue in the sweetest tone and suddenly Zombi's head rears up and he fixes his eyes on Marie. His tongue darts out at her and he quickly uncoils and slithers toward her. Tom thought for a moment that he saw joy in the snake's eyes when he saw Marie. And it was like he was running to her like a puppy would to its master. Speaking of puppies, Zombi was so eager to get to Marie that he just crawled over the sleeping brown bear-like dog that was in his way. Which woke the dog up and seeing Marie he too became excited and barked in jubilation, waking the orange cat. All three animals are happy to see Marie and they get to her immediately to cover her with love and to show how much they missed her. "Yes babies, yes! Momma missed you all too! "She rubs the bear-dog's head and kisses his nose. "Hello Hannibal. Thank you for guarding the house so well. "She picks up the orange cat and hugs it. "Hello Clementine, have you been keeping everyone in line?" And Zombi slithers up her legs, around her back and reaches her shoulders. "Hello Zombi." She kisses him and Zombi closes his blue eyes as if to savor the feeling. "You're kissing a snake Professor.", Tom says incredulously. "Of course. I love him. I love all of my animals. Everybody, meet Tom. He's one of my students and he'll be joining us for Thanksgiving.", Marie says smiling the animals look at Tom at the same time. Clementine is the first to approach him smelling his shoe. Then Hannibal comes to smell his hand."He's okay you two. He's a friend."Hannibal looks back at Marie and then turns to lick Tom's hand. Tom looks up and sees Zombi's blue eyes staring at him suspiciously."Say something to him Tom." "Hi, Zombi." says Tom quietly."No, say something to him in Parcel Tongue." Says Marie. "I don't know what to say. I can't control it like that." "Just feel the moment, look at Zombi and start speaking. "Tom looks at Zombi, who seems to be looking at him with doubt. As if he were saying, "YOU can speak Parcel tongue? HA!"Tom wants to prove himself to Zombi so he stares for a moment and then starts to 's look goes from doubt, to surprise, to joy and he drops down from Marie's shoulders and rushes over to Tom. "Very good Tom. He likes you." "I don't know what I said.""You told him he is the most handsome snake you have ever seen."
Zombi slithers up Tom's legs, which is a strange sensation indeed, to get face to face with Tom. Zombi's blue eyes are strikingly beautiful. Two azure sapphires which contain a gentle inquisitive soul. His swallow tailed tongue darts out toward Tom causing him to understand.
"Do you mean it?", Zombi asks and Tom comprehends.
"Is this snake talking to me Professor?!" Tom asks shakedly.
"Why of course.", Marie coos. "You spoke to him. It would be rude if he didn't speak back."
Tom is doing his best to remain calm. "How am I understanding him?"
"You're a Parcel Tongue Tom. You can not only speak to snakes but you can understand them as well."
"But why? How?"
"I will tell you in due time but now there is something more pressing I must discuss with you."
Tom wonders what is more pressing than being able to converse with snakes but he notices Marie's eyebrows have knit together. That only happens when she's worried, which doesn't happen often.
"Professor?"
Marie looks at Tom and takes in his small form. He really is just miniature gentleman wrapped in an albino python at the moment.
She takes a deep breath before she begins.
"We are in another country Tom. Things are different here. We're among Muggles…"
"And we have to live as Muggles. I know that Professor."
"No, it's more than that." Marie notices Zombi watching them intently. "Excuse us Zombi."
Marie uncoils the smitten serpent from Tom's middle. Kisses him and sets him back on the hearth. She then leads Tom over to the couch and sits him in the sunbeam once occupied by Clementine.
"We must do more than just live like Muggles." Marie's eyes are locked on Tom's.
"Professor what do you …?"
"First thing, when we're out in public you must not call me 'Professor'. Call me Marie. If people ask you who I am to you say I'm the nanny your parents hired to take care of you while on holiday. Also, when we are in public I am no longer a lady or a woman. I'm a girl or "gal" if you really want to fit in. Definitely not 'Professor' EVER when we are in public. We must hide my status just like our magic.
Tom has no idea what to make of all that Marie has said. How on earth is he going to call the person he respects most in the world by their first name let alone refer to them as "girl"?
"Professor?"
"Tom don't…"
"We're not in public." says Tom.
He has a myriad of questions. But he decides to settle on opening with the simplest one, Why?"
"Because of what I look like Tom and what you look like."
Tom is beyond confused and Marie feels like she could pick him up and hug him because of the perplexed look on his face.
"Here in Muggle America I'm considered Colored because of the color of my skin and you're white. White people are treated differently here, well in the Muggle world in general."
Tom stares at Marie blinking.
"You've never seen a colored person, before me, Tom?"
"Of course I have. There was a boy and girl back at the orphanage."
"Did you notice them being treated differently from everyone else?"
"I have no idea Professor because I hated everyone there regardless of their color."
Marie and Tom share a quick chuckle at the dark honestly of his statement.
"That's terrible Tom.", Marie says while trying to stifle a hearty laugh.
"We've got to get on with our duties. Much to prepare. Come, let's put our things away before we go to the market."
Marie leads Tom back to her room to get his valise and then takes him to a door across from the bathroom that he didn't notice before.
"Go ahead, open it." Marie says to Tom.
Tom does as he is told and turns the glass knob that looks like a giant diamond, opens the door to a room with a made up quilted bed, bookshelf, desk, chair, and chest of drawers.
"This is your room Tom."
Tom is stunned by this sentence. He's never heard it in his entire life. All he's heard is, "Go over there." "Sit in that corner." "That's your bunk." "These are your dormmates.", but never, "This is your room." Tom hugs Marie around her middle.
"Oh Tom," Marie says smiling and hugging back, "it's just a plain ol' room."
"No it's not. I love it." says Tom. And he goes into his room and puts his clothes away, Muggle style.
While he does this Marie goes to her room, snaps her fingers and everything is put away in an instant. She then goes to her dressing table to sit and look at herself in the mirror. She opens one of the drawers and takes out a beautiful Mediterranean blue silk scarf with little gold fleur de lis decorating it. She proceeds to wrap her long raven, wavy hair into a tignon. When she finishes she sighs into the mirror and then quickly gets up. "Tom! Time to go!" Marie walks out into the hallway and hears Tom rummaging around in his newly acquired room. She walks to his doorway and sees him pulling something out of the closet. "Oh Professor!", he cries as he takes a Radio Flyer red wagon out and sets it on his bedroom floor. "Do you like it?" Marie asks. "Of course! Thank you!", beams Tom. "Would you mind bringing it to the market with us. I think it will come in handy." Tom agrees immediately. The honor is all his to be of service to the household.
Marie blows kisses to all of her animals, tells them they will be back shortly and to look after the house. Tom helps Marie on with her coat and she does the same for Tom in turn. He grabs the handle of his wagon and they both step out of her front door into the American Muggle world of 1937.
New Orleans Louisiana to be exact; the neighborhood of Tremé to be even more precise.
This was Tom's first Tuesday in America. The street wasn't as crowded as those he remembered in London. But it was still vibrant with colors and sound. There was a man pushing a cart full of fruits and vegetables, singing out his stock in a baritone voice to attract buyers; "COL-LARDS! TUR-NIPS! RUTABAGAS!" Tom was drawn to him like a magnet and starts to pull his wagon with the mind to buy everything the man was selling. "Just a minute Tom, we'll see him on our way back home. We need to go to the butcher's first." Tom complies. They walk down the little shale stone pathway by a persimmon tree in a small yard that leads from Marie's front door to a white picket fence and then to the sidewalk. Tom looks back to see that Marie's house is white with black shutters and trellises. Crepe Myrtle and Holly bushes line the front of the house that has a porch with white wicker table and chairs and what looks like a sofa on a swing. "Come along Tom I want to get there while the gettin's good." Marie opens the gate for Tom to walk through to the sidewalk. "How far to the butcher's Professor?" "We're outside Tom. Call me Marie." Tom didn't like this already. "Marie." "We're going to the French Quarter. We can't take the wagon on the trolly so we'll walk. It will do us good to get some exercise." They walk a few steps and see Marie's next door neighbors beating their rugs and throwing hot bleach water on their steps to make them gleaming white. "MARIE! MARIE! Happy Thanksgiving! We were wondering when you were coming back to town!" A plump jovial woman with a bright smile in a floral house dress, pink sweater and black slippers stops beating her rugs and comes to the sidewalk to greet Marie. "MRS. TRUMBULL! Happy Thanksgiving to you too!" They hug briefly. "It's so good to see you Marie! You look so good. How is it you never seem to age?" Tom makes the decision that this woman could be the happiest woman he has ever seen. "Thank you! You look wonderful as well!", Marie says matching Mrs. Trumbull's excitement. "And who is this?", Mrs. Trumbull asks while smiling at Tom who has caught her effusive joy. "This is Tom. My charge. His parents are touring Asia so I brought him here with me for Thanksgiving. Tom, meet Mrs. Trumbull. We've been neighbors for years." "More than just neighbors." says Mrs. Trumbull. "I knew Marie's family way back when God was a boy. Welcome to Treme Tom!" "Thank you ma'am.", Tom extends his hand to . "Well look at that! A perfect little gentleman!", laughs Mrs. Trumbull. "I don't shake hands with children. Do you mind if I give you a hug instead?" "No not at…" Mrs. Trumbull grabs Tom into a warm hug and he willingly reciprocates. "Oh that was so sweet! That's was good for my soul. Thank you Tom." says Mrs. Trumbull. "Well let me let y'all go. I've got to finish cleaning this house before everyone gets here tomorrow. Would y'all like to come for Thanksgiving?" "Thank you for the offer," says Marie, " but we're going to have a house full ourselves." "Well then, would you take one of my sweet potato pies instead?" "We would love that! See you Thursday.", Marie says while hugging Mrs. Trumbull goodbye.
Tom and Marie continue down the sidewalk as Mrs. Trumbull goes back to ridding the dust from her rugs. And Mr. Trumbull continues to make the white steps glow in the sunlight. "I don't think I've ever met a muggle like that.", says Tom smiling. "She is a rare kind of person, priceless.", says Marie. They walk in the autumn sunshine for a bit. "She said she knew your family. Does she know about you?" asks Tom. "No. She thinks I'm a governess in Europe. Which is kind of true when you think about it." "Does anyone here know what you are? Who you are?", Tom asks pointedly. "Everyone who knew the history of my family is gone Tom." "You mean they moved away?" "No, Tom. They're all dead." "Why? What happened to them?" "Old age Tom." Marie says incredulously. "Muggles can't live forever, well neither can we but I was born in 1794, September 10th. And I still look good. Even Mrs. Trumbull says so." Tom does the math in his head. "You're 143 years old?!" blurts Tom stopping in his tracks. Marie turns around to meet his gaze. "What? Does that shock you? You think that's old? In wizard years I'm practically a teenager!" They continue to walk. Tom takes in the sights of Tremé but he continues to chew on this age thing. "Profes...Marie, I'm half Muggle. How long will I live?" "Tom I'm a witch but there is no way I can know how long you will live. Let's hope you have an exceptionally long and happy life." Tom understands Marie's answer officially closes the conversation on age and life expectancy.
They continue walking and pass a shining white building with circular windows and stained glass. "What is that?", asks Tom. "St. Augustine Church. I go here when I'm in town." "You go to CHURCH?!" "Tom it's a wonder you can still walk with all of these shocks to your system.", says Marie. "Of course I go here. I'm one of the founders." Tom stops in his tracks again absolutely dumbfounded. "Let's keep going Tom. The butcher won't have a single turkey left if we keep moving at this pace.", Marie says taking Tom's hand and walking faster. "You're one of the founders of a CHURCH?", asks Tom. "The church was founded in 1841 by free-borns and freedmen." Marie sees the confusion on Tom's face. "Free borns were people from Africa who lived here but were never slaves. And Freed Men were African people who obtained their freedom from being slaves. I was never a slave. I'm a free born. People in Treme who know me think my great grandmother was one of the founders of the church but it was actually me. It's easy to keep this belief going because I'm gone all the time. When it's time for me to 'die' I simply disappear for a couple of decades and come back when there are new people in the neighborhood. No one is the wiser." "Mrs. Trumbull knows you. She said she's known you and your family for a long time." says Tom with a slight bit of worry in his voice. "That's true, I'm going to have to disappear in a few years again. But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Now let's concentrate on preparing for Thanksgiving dinner."
They walk some more. Now they have run out of sidewalk and are walking on a dirt path along a large lake. It's low tide and Tom can smell the silt from the lake bed mixed with the smell of fish. They continue walking. Tom has a head full of questions he wants to ask Marie but since they don't have anything to do with their task at hand he keeps them all to himself. He sees the trolly cars, automobiles and trucks as they get closer to the French Quarter. Now there are more people out and about. Marie looks at Tom, "Remember, I'm 'Marie' here. We can't afford any slip ups. Okay Tom?" "Yes, Marie." Tom is sure he will never like this particular game of pretend.
They come to a store front with a pig in a chef's hat painted on the window. The pig is chopping up meat. Tom finds this gruesome and stupid. The front door reads, 'WILSON'S'. They walk in. There is a bell over the door that rings as they do so. There are three people behind a rope with a sign at the far end of the butcher shop. Tom notices there is also a section roped off with a sign closer to the door and he starts to go there. Marie gently takes his hand and leads him to the far end of the shop. She takes a number and they stand behind the other three people in line.
Tom looks up at Marie and whispers, "Look at that section by the door. No one is standing there." "Yes I know. We'll just wait here." Tom doesn't understand why but he waits patiently with her.
There are three butchers behind the counter. Tom sees one cutting up pork chops. Another just barely cleaning a counter. He seemed more to look like he was trying to look busy rather than actually be busy. And the third was sitting on a stool reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette. None of them seemed to notice there were three people waiting in line. Tom tries to get their attention by faking a sneeze. "AH-AH-AH-CHOO!" The one reading the newspaper looks up and sees Tom, "God bless you little man."eyeing Tom and knowing the sneeze was fake. He puts out his cigarette and waits on the first customer who wanted a turkey and a pound of sausage. Tom sees the man move slowly but finally completes the transaction, meat for money. "Next.", the man says in a manner that was the direct opposite of 's way of addressing people. The second customer wanted a turkey and a pound of pork chops. Again, the man moves as if he has molasses oozing through his veins. He completes the transaction, meat for money. But this time Tom realizes that, that man hasn't greeted or thanked any customer. Just, 'NEXT' and the price of the order was all he said. Tom did not like him. Just as Marie is about to move up, two more customers walk in and go directly to the front part of the store, they don't take numbers and immediately the man stops himself from saying, "NEXT" to Marie and goes over to wait on the other customers. "Hello there Mr. Parker! Happy Thanksgiving!"
Tom can't believe his eyes. Can this be the same man?
One moment sullen, next moment bright and cheery as the Ghost of Christmas Present?
"What can I get for you today Mr. Parker?" Tom is vexed. "Excuse me sir!" says Tom. Marie places her hand on Tom's shoulder. Tom tries again, Excuse me, SIR!" The man and Mr. Parker turn to Tom. "Can I help you, Sneezy?", says the man. "Yes you can. We were here before them. WE'RE next." Marie is mortified. "That's okay we'll wait.", says Marie tightening her grip on Tom's shoulder. Mr. Parker looks at Tom's wagon, "That's a nice wagon." Tom answers reflexively, "Thank you." Mr. Parker looks at Marie, "It's brand new. Where did you get it?" "It was gift." says Tom not even looking at Mr. Parker but staring daggers into the man behind the counter. "Hey that's a English accent isn't it?" says the man behind the counter. "You aren't from here are you? "Why do you think that?, says Tom. "Is it because I speak English?" Both men are taken aback for a second and start to laugh. Mr. Parker lets out a huge belly laugh. "You're a smart aleck! That was a good one." The man behind the counter isn't laughing now. "Okay little man, I don't know where you're from and I don't care. But the way it works here is white people get served first." "Yes we understand.", says Marie. Tom looks around the shop and reads the signs hanging on the ropes. 'White' is written on the sign closest to Mr. Parker and 'Colored' is written on the sign closest to himself and Marie. Just at that moment, a surge of understanding and wisdom takes over Tom. "I'm WHITE.", says Tom. "And I've been standing here for over a quarter of an hour."
"You're standing in the 'colored' section." says the man behind the counter. "You can't see me?", Tom asked sternly. "Perhaps you didn't see me for the first ten minutes I was standing here when you were reading your newspaper." At this time the other two butchers come forward to see who the little boy was that was speaking with such authority. The butcher who was cutting pork chops speaks up, "Now hang on little fella. That was our mistake. We didn't see you when your gal brought you in." Tom is now livid but tries to control himself. "Gal?! She is my GOVERNESS. Let me ask you all something. Do ANY of you have a GOVERNESS working for you? Can ANY of you afford a governess?" Everyone in the shop is shocked into silence, except Tom who keeps going. "That's what I thought. We will take a turkey and…,Tom calmly turns to Marie, "and what else Miss Marie?" Marie is speechless. Shocked into immobility. But she feels all eyes on her and says quietly to the butcher, "2 pounds of Andouille sausage, and a ham." The butcher who was cutting pork chops earlier goes right to work filling Marie's order. Meanwhile,Tom is in a staring contest with Mr. Parker and the other two butchers. "I don't know why you're ordering ham. You seem to have one right beside you.", Mr. Parker says to Marie, trying to break the tension in the room. The other two butchers seem to be struck dumb and are watching Tom and Marie in disbelief. The 'pork chop' butcher comes back with Marie's order. He comes from behind the counter and places them in Tom's wagon. He then looks at Marie and says, "That will be $4 uh...Miss." Tom smiles. Marie pays the butcher. On their way out Tom turns back and says, "Thank you. Have a Happy Thanksgiving. They leave.
As they get farther from the shop Marie looks down at Tom who is positively nonplussed. "Why did you do that? Did you listen to anything I said to you back at the house? That could have turned ugly, VERY ugly." "No it wouldn't have. I know weak Muggles when I see them.", says Tom feeling pleased with himself. Marie stops him and stoops down so she can be eye level with him, "Weak muggles are the most dangerous Tom. They are capable of the most evil things." Tom bristles, "I'd like to see them try!" "Tom! I am not playing with you. This is serious. We still need to go the the general store and the fish market before we can go home. Please don't say anything else. PLEASE." Tom sees that Marie is speaking out of fear and not authority which unnerves him and agrees to obey her wishes.
On their way back home with a wagon full of turkey, ham, sausages, cheese, oysters, crawfish bread, milk, flour, brown sugar, white sugar, honey, eggs, and butter; Marie realizes they still have to get fruit and vegetables and hopes she can fit them in the wagon.
As they turn the corner to Marie's street Tom sees the fruit man from earlier in their day. "PEA-CHES! GREEN APPLES! BLACKBERRIES! CRANBERRIES!", sings the man in his powerful baritone voice. "He's still singing?" Tom is amazed. They've been gone for more than a hour. "He sings all the time. He doesn't seem to tire.", says Marie. Tom sees a bit of the Professor he knows from Hogwarts now. Except there is a type of smile on her face he had never seen before and she starts walking toward the man at a quicker pace.
"MASON!", cries Marie throwing up her hand waving in salutation. She's almost running now. Tom struggles to keep up while pulling the red wagon that contains a virtual grocery store.
"MARIE!", the man calls back, not singing but still sounding like music to Tom's ears. Mason and Marie finally meet each other in the street but stop short and simply stand awkwardly and look at each other smiling. Tom catches up. "Hey Mason.", says Marie smiling and extends her hand. "Hey Marie.", says Mason. Tom can sense that Mason wants to sweep Marie up into a bear hug but he doesn't. He takes Marie's hand gently and shakes it. "It's so good to see you. Why do you stay away for so long? Folks around here miss you.", he says. "You know I have to work.", says Marie, "And speaking of which, I'd like you to meet Tom. He'll be staying with me for Thanksgiving while his parents are away." Mason breaks his gaze on Marie and looks down to Tom and smiles. "Hello Tom. I'm Mason. Looking at your wagon it seems like you and Marie are going to open a General Store." He extends his hand to Tom. He immediately takes it and sees how small his hand is in Mason's rough large one. Mason seems like a giant to Tom, who is small. But Mason was taller than Marie, who is taller than a tree. "Nice to meet you Mr. Mason.", says Tom craning his neck to get a good look at Mason's face. "Mason is my first name. 'Whitney' is my last. People I don't know call me 'Whitney' or 'Mr. Whitney' but you're a friend of Marie's so please call me Mason." he says grinning at Tom with his eyes.
"We're getting ready for Thanksgiving and we need fruits and vegetables, can you help us out?", Marie smiles and blinks.
"Whatever you need Marie, you know that.", says Mason moving toward his cart and retrieving a brown paper bag ready to be filled with Marie's order.
"Well…" Marie starts her order as she approaches the cart. Tom sees a side of Marie he's never experienced before. She is lighter, playful, and giggling with Mason. And he notices they keep bumping into each other, seemingly on purpose. After the order is filled Tom places three bags of produce on top of his overfilled wagon.
"I bet Thanksgiving is going to be delicious at your house Marie.", says Mason. "I hope so. Tom and I will be doing all of the cooking save for a sweet potato pie courtesy of Mrs. Trumbull.", says Marie. This shocks Tom. He's never cooked a day in his life. He hasn't heard of most of the dishes on the menu. "Surely, she's joking.", he thinks to himself.
"Mrs. Trumbull is making you a sweet potato pie?, Mason asks, "that's going to be a grand dinner indeed!" "What are you doing for Thanksgiving Mason?", Marie asked hoping he didn't already have plans. Tom, who is good at reading Muggles, knows already that Mason would have dinner with Marie even if she was hosting it in cave filled with bats.
"I was planning to go to St. Augustine's for dinner. But if you're inviting me…" "We would love for you to come!", blurted Marie excitedly. "Dinner is at 4pm. Come on Tom let's go and put all of this away."
Tom does as he is told and starts to pull the heavily laden wagon toward Marie's house. As he's pulling the wagon with all of his might, he turns his head back, "Bye Mason! See you Thursday!"
"See you then Tom!", says Mason right before he goes back to work, "CHERRIES! OKRA! PO-TAY-TOES! TO-MAY-TOES!" Mason's voice makes Tom feel warm inside as he continues to pull the wagon toward Marie's. When Mason moves further down the street with his cart, Tom looks up at Marie, "Professor,...you know I can't cook, right?" "Oh really? have you tried before?" "No." says Tom. "Well then," says Marie, "you don't know if you can cook or not. I guess we'll soon find out."
END OF PART 1