Chapter Fifteen: Princess of Unicorns
Jayna awoke the next morning in a cocoon of warmth. She was curled underneath layers of blankets, and warmth radiated from Tom, whose side she had buried her face against. She blinked against the rough material of his shirt, marveling at the sheer amount of heat the boy could produce. Like a space heater, only cuter…
Jayna stretched her muscles, extending her legs down the length of Tom's. She realized the previous night had been the best night's sleep she'd had in a while. Absolutely no nightmares had haunted her mind, no monsters lurking beneath unconsciousness.
Content, Jayna tugged the blankets down a bit so they weren't completely over her head and peered up at the dark haired Slytherin beside her. Her head was resting against the side of his abdomen, since she had instinctively burrowed down beneath the covers during the night, and that left most of Tom's shoulders and arms uncovered in the chilly air.
How does he sleep like that? Isn't he freezing? Jayna's mind, fogged by sleep, finally realized he probably did not have much at the orphanage, let alone sufficient blankets for cold nights.
She wriggled up until she was closer to the headboard and pulled the thick layer of bedclothes up over Tom. He shifted in his sleep, turning over onto his side and throwing an arm over his face.
Jayna bit back a giggle, secretly adoring how he looked when asleep. His black eyelashes rested against his pale skin, his mouth much more relaxed than he ever held it while awake. And his hair was unbelievably mussed, sticking up in every direction. If he had been awake he would have immediately fixed it.
Wow, I am pathetic. Am I really sitting here fawning over him sleeping? In an effort to be slightly less creepy, because clearly watching someone sleep, no matter how good-looking that person may be, was weird, Jayna shifted her attention to the window. There was a white out. She could barely see the tree branches that were only a few feet from the glass of the windowpane.
After a few minutes a knock came on the door, and Ms. Stretton's voice called through the wood, "Breakfast, dears!"
Jayna gently ran her fingers through Tom's hair, attempting to tame it for him at least a little. He stirred, his eyes opening slightly. A sliver of sapphire blue showed, before he shut them against the light and pulled his arm tighter against them. "Nnn," he mumbled obstinately.
"Tooom," Jayna called softly, stretching his name out into two syllables. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bac-y…" She saw his body jerk as he laughed softly, his lips curving upwards into a smile.
Jayna bent down, kissing the corner of his mouth as she tugged his arm back from the upper part of his face. He immediately moved, circling his arm around her and shaking his head. "A breakfast rhyme, Jayna? Really?" he asked gruffly, as though he thought her immature.
"Shut up. You know you loved it," She quipped back.
"Eh…" he made a noncommittal noise before he shrugged, burying his face back into the pillow.
"If you prefer, I could make it into a haiku…" Jayna offered.
Tom looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Don't take this negatively, Jayna, but somehow I doubt your ability for poetry."
Jayna jutted out her lower lip in a pout. "Fine. Whenever you're done ruining my literary dreams can we go to breakfast? I'm actually hungry…"
Tom thought for a moment before asking, "So I assume you want to eat this morning in front of Ms. Stretton, to dispel her pregnancy theories?"
"No…Actually I was thinking we could name the twins Severus and Lily," Jayna said wistfully, using the names of her favorite characters from the Harry Potter series. Memories of the books were now returning along with everything else.
His blue eyes widened dramatically before he asked, "We're having twins now?"
She laughed, shaking her head and unable to take the sarcasm even further. Tom, however, was much better practiced at keeping a straight face. He thought over her suggestion before frowning.
"Severus and Lily? Out of all the possibilities, you pick the two most incompatible names," he criticized.
Jayna laughed again. You have no idea how incompatible. "Would you like James and Lily better?" she asked.
Tom made a face before sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "No, I would like eggs and bac-y," he stated, grumpy and clearly not much of a morning person.
It was early afternoon as Jayna sat against the wall by the fireplace, the book about Slytherin propped open on her lap. She had pulled a thick cardigan out of the bag of clothes Tom had gotten for her, and Ms. Stretton had cast a warming charm over her earlier. Nonetheless, she was reluctant to stray too far from the fire burning strongly in the hearth.
Amy and Simon had actually convinced their mother to let them go outside and play, despite the current blizzard, and were cheerily building a snowman by the family room's large window. Occasionally they would tap the glass and gesture at their creation, grinning with noses and cheeks bright red.
Alvin sat and watched them, clearly his miniature brain was jealous. He would react to the taps on the glass by chucking figurines across the room. Little Merlin and several of his cohorts were now lying abandoned on the floor beneath the window sill.
Mr. Stretton had informed Jayna and Tom that the Floo network should be opening soon, and that they should wait for a flash of emerald flames to signal the reopening. Then he had retreated into his office, which only emitted smoke beneath the door occasionally.
Tom leaned against the wall opposite the fireplace, staring into the flames as though sheer willpower could make them flicker green. His wand was out, and he twirled it through his fingers absentmindedly, distracting Jayna from the book.
By now she had realized this habit only came into play when Tom was nervous. She sifted through her memories of her time in this world, and recalled when Tom had first confronted her about her real past out on the grounds, after releasing Sorcio. Before that incident he had stood on the steps of Hogwarts, wand twirling.
Then there was the time after they found the rose cottage out in the woods, when he had waited for her in the Entrance Hall before asking to walk with her down to the lake. And Jayna also remembered when he had asked her to the dance, and before he had healed her wrist how he had twirled it.
Amused that she had found a nervous habit in someone that at first glance was cool and collected, Jayna cocked her head to the side as she watched him. Finally he noticed her attention, and raising an eyebrow suspiciously, asked, "What are you looking at?"
"My fiancé," she replied smartly. "Why are you so anxious?"
"Why do you think I am anxious?" was his doubtful response.
Jayna nodded at his left hand, where he held his wand. "You always fiddle with your wand when you are nervous," she pointed out. Immediately, Tom lowered his wand and pocketed it, giving Jayna a skeptical stare.
"Do not," Tom denied childishly.
"Do too," Jayna insisted, crossing her arms.
"Do not," he ground out.
"Do. Too," she repeated, just as obstinate.
Tom opened his mouth, a moment from saying 'do not' again, but seemed to realize how pointless the argument was. He shut it, thought for a few moments, and said, "Fine, I am a little tired of waiting. I want to act already."
Jayna sighed. "Me too, but you're making me nervous standing there. Can't you at least sit down?" she asked pleadingly.
Tom narrowed his eyes, considering her request, before he pushed off the wall and walked over to her. He leaned against the wall beside her, slowly sliding down it until he was next to her. "Better?" he asked in a bored tone.
She nodded, and smiled knowingly when his wand came out once more a few minutes later. Jayna tried to concentrate once more on the book, reading in the quiet room with the crackling of the fire and the occasional bang as an action figure would strike glass.
However when Jayna got to the later portion of the book, she was surprised at a sketch of Salazar Slytherin's son. The man in the sketch vaguely resembled the Bloody Baron, but he could have resembled a third of the male population as well. There was no name given for the man shown, the only title was "The Eldest Son." But the most interesting thing about the sketch was the small snake shown curled around the arm of the chair the man sat in.
"…Tom?" Jayna asked after a moment of staring at it.
"Hm?"
"This snake looks just like Sorcio," Jayna pointed out, gesturing down at it. Riddle's eyes snapped from the fire to her book, and brow furrowing, he leaned closer to look at it.
Jayna looked over where Sorcio was lounging, his eyes glowing beneath a ragged armchair. There are plenty of garden snakes, I'm sure they all look the same. Still, Jayna found herself slightly unnerved by Sorcio suddenly, who stared back at her intelligently.
Her nerves were not helped one bit when Tom revealed quietly, "He said he was centuries old, but I thought I had misunderstood…"
Jayna turned to stare at Tom. "Sorcio said he's centuries old? Like maybe thousands of years old? And you didn't believe him?" she accused.
Riddle scoffed. "Jayna, that snake is not exactly what I would call a mentally fit specimen. No wonder the two of you get along so well…"
Jayna, however, was glancing excitedly back and forth between the drawn and real Sorcio. "So, you think this is him? But how is that possible, for a snake to live that long? Could you ask him?" she rambled on excitedly.
Tom was surveying her face, his utterly unenthused. He spoke in a very low voice. "You want me to speak in Parseltongue in front of a small child where I might possibly be overheard by his parents?" he asked, stressing the question so Jayna suddenly realized how very stupid her request had been.
"Oh, fine, later then…" she said, disappointed.
Tom smiled slightly at that. "Yes, later."
"What did you mean, he's not mentally fit?" she asked suddenly, picking up on his earlier comment.
Riddle stare returned, determined, back to the fireplace as he answered in a whisper. "He's quite insane, as snakes go. Most do as they are told, and are not very interested in wizard affairs. Your pet is stubborn and curious, and he is unnaturally attached to you."
"Stubborn, curious, and attached to me? That makes him insane?" Jayna replied doubtfully. "By that definition, you belong in the loony bin."
"Attached to you? I wouldn't go so far as to say that…" Riddle said seriously. When the blonde gave him a hurt look, however, a teasing smirk appeared. "He is the first snake that has ever disobeyed me, for one thing," he continued on in a whisper.
Jayna raised an eyebrow. "Go on. I'm starting to feel rather fond of him."
Tom rolled his eyes. "He speaks of himself less a living thing and more an item. Then there's the claim to humanity…"
"Claim to humanity?" Jayna repeated, confused.
"Yes. He insists that a bit of his soul is human," Tom explained. And just like that, Jayna's mouth dropped open, the book falling from her lap with a thump onto the rug beneath them as her hand went slack. The Heir of Slytherin gave her a questioning look, before asking hesitantly, "What is it?"
"Bit of…soul," Jayna gasped out, staring in shock over at Sorcio. He moved out from the chair, towards her. He stopped by her leg, tongue flickering out as his golden eyes stared unblinkingly into hers. Could the snake be a horcrux? But whose? Her eyes shot down to the book, which had fallen closed. But it didn't matter, because the badly drawn image of Slytherin's eldest son was sketched into her mind.
"Jayna?" Tom's voice was irritated and insistent now, he disliked being left out of the loop. He took hold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger, turning her face sharply back towards his. "What are you babbling about?"
"Horcrux," she squeaked. Riddle's eyes only darkened with confusion.
"What is that?" he asked impatiently.
Oh crap, he doesn't know about them already? Damn, I shouldn't have told him then! Seeing as how he's infamous for making them left and right! Jayna mentally cursed herself. Oh well, he would have found out eventually…
"Horcrux," she repeated faintly. "When you destroy your soul and rip it apart you can put a piece in an object. It stops you from dying but then you can never really be alive either. It's a terrible thing…"
His eyes lit up with understanding, his expression turned calculating. "So you think the snake is alive because someone used it this way?"
Jayna nodded wordlessly. Tom frowned. "But who? The Bloody Baron?"
"I guess," she shrugged. "We'll have to find out later."
Just then, the room flashed for less than a millisecond a brilliant emerald color. The Floo network had reopened.
"Now you must owl us and let us know you are doing well, dears," Ms. Stretton was insisting vehemently. "And don't hesitate to ask if you need anything, either."
Jayna nodded, taken aback by the woman's generosity. Ms. Stretton had pressed a small purse into her hands just moments earlier which jangled suspiciously. When Jayna had peeked inside, only to find several large gold and silver coins, she had tried to return it. The older woman heard nothing about it, though, insisting she keep it.
"I, we, cannot thank you both enough, really-" Jayna started.
Ms. Stretton waved a hand. "Enough of that. You must be in a hurry to get to London, we'll keep you no longer. Do take care, dear," she said, pulling the blonde girl into a tight hug. She released her finally, only to lay eyes on Tom. He was fiddling with the sash on the floo powder bag awkwardly, eyes downcast. "Oh, Tom, come here," she said, reaching out and pulling the Slytherin into a loving embrace.
Tom, for his part, only froze like a stone for about two seconds before giving Jayna an alarmed glance and returning the woman's hug. He was so much taller than the mousy haired housewife that he was bent far down, it was almost comical looking. Then the moment, which to Jayna was so amusing she would have liked it to stretch on a bit longer, ended as Ms. Stretton released him.
Riddle then turned to shake hands politely with Mr. Stretton. "Well, I suppose I might be seeing you at the ministry soon, eh, Marvolo?" the older man asked genially.
"I would hope so, Sir," Tom said, giving an almost sincere smile.
"Right. Our fireplace should be large enough to fit you both," Ms. Stretton said, moving away from the hearth. "Pleasant trip," she said, "And take care of yourself, Jayna dear!" The older woman gave Jayna a conspiratorial wink.
Tom took a handful of the silvery powder, throwing it into the tall flames. They immediately turned green, practically sparkling. He took Jayna's hand, pulling her towards them despite the unsettled look on her face. Walking into flames, this is a ridiculous travel method. Tom managed to coerce her into walking into the fireplace, ducking his head so as not to run into the stone mantle.
"Goodbye," Jayna called out past the flames flickering near her face. No heat came from them, which she had known would be the case. Still, it was bizarre to be standing in fire that didn't burn.
She saw Ms. Stretton nod just as Tom called out from beside her, in a clear voice, "Diagon Alley!" Then the room spun vertically past, and Jayna felt Tom's arms pull her closer to him, forcing her elbows in against her body.
As Mr. and Ms. Stretton watched the pair disappear and the flames slowly turn back to red and orange, Ms. Stretton heaved a sigh. "I do hope they turn out alright. Adorable couple, shame their parents aren't there for them."
Mr. Stretton grunted something in agreement. His wife glanced over, asking, "Weren't they something? Young love intent on being together, despite the forces against them…" Her eyes had grown misty and distant, as if she was lost in her own imagination. Which she probably was.
Her husband laughed a little, shaking his head. "You read too many of those cheap romance books from Flourish and Blotts. They go to your head."
"Oh, Harold," she groaned, giving him a glare as she turned to leave the room. Alvin, watching from his play pen, gave a giggle as he gnawed on Merlin.
As Tom and Jayna whirled through a bizarre array of fireplaces, the view outside the hearth constantly changed. It moved too fast to really focus, but hundreds of rooms must have passed by them before they came to an abrupt and dizzying stop. Jayna felt her stomach drop, a sickening feeling she recalled from riding a rollercoaster, and her knees went weak.
She felt grateful for Tom's solid grip, as it was the only thing that kept her upright as the scene outside the fireplace stabilized. Then they stepped down out of the dirty hearth into a less than impressive room.
Jayna was disappointed by the Leaky Cauldron. It was dark and shabby, and more than a little breezy. The wind whistled through cracks in the wooden walls, the furniture was old and beat up, and the few customers in the place turned to stare at the new arrivals.
While Jayna squirmed under the scrutiny, self consciously brushing ashes off her clothing, Tom seemed much more confident. He guided her over to the bar, where a scruffy man who sorely needed a haircut was stacking tumbler glasses. The man looked up, squinting before a smile crossed his face, highlighting the fact that the poor gent was missing more than a few teeth.
"Oh Thomas Riddle!" he called out, coming around the bar. "Well what are you doing here, with a lady friend in tow?"
Tom forced a small, easy smile onto his face. Jayna could always tell the real smiles from the fake because his eyes only crinkled at the corners when he was truly smiling. "Looking for a place to stay, Mr. Dodderidge. Do you have any rooms available?" Tom asked.
"Certainly do, son, certainly do," Dodderidge said happily, offering his hand to Jayna. Uncertainly, she took it, only to raise her eyebrows as he pressed what he probably thought was a charming kiss to her hand. "But first introductions are in order. My name, miss, is Douglas Dodderidge, but everyone calls me Dock."
"Er…" Jayna said lamely, wondering how it was possible for his eyebrows to be so ridiculously bushy.
"This is Jayna, Sir," Tom said politely, hand squeezing her side slightly as if to remind her of her ability to speak.
"Right, yes, I'm Jayna," she chorused obediently.
"Ah, I see. And you're here 'cause of that nasty business at Hogwarts, eh?" Dock asked, finally releasing Jayna's hand and turning his attention back towards Tom.
"Yes, the school has been closed," Tom said, voice tight.
"Right, well I'll take you upstairs to-" the man started to say, but was cut off by a clattering of glass and a large thud. Jayna jumped, alarmed, and all three turned to glance behind them. A large man that had been drinking something smoky at a table in the corner had collapsed onto the ground, face down. His mug lay abandoned a few feet away, still spinning slightly on the floor.
"Right. Like I was saying, I'll take you upstairs to the open rooms," Dodderidge continued as if nothing had happened.
"Wait, shouldn't you see if he's okay?" Jayna protested, concerned.
The owner of the Leaky Cauldron glanced back once more at his unconscious patron and sighed. "I suppose you're right. Be right back," he said, annoyed.
When he had left their side, Jayna turned to glance quizzically at Tom. "Thomas?" she repeated.
The tall Slytherin made a face. "I've told him it's simply Tom but he prefers Thomas…"
"You've been here a lot before?" Jayna pressed.
Tom eyes turned guarded as he answered, "Yes. I stay here about a week before classes start every summer."
"Ah," was Jayna's only response. Can't blame him for wanting to get out of the orphanage a bit early. Across the room, Mr. Dodderidge was nudging the unconscious man with the worn toe of his shoe. The man jerked, before a large belch echoed throughout the room.
"Ya see? He's fine, just drunk himself into a stupor," Dock called over. "Come on, I'll get your keys…"
They rented two rooms that shared a sitting room, and Jayna handed over a couple of galleons. The rooms were much nicer than the first floor of the Cauldron, with large fireplaces and handsome furniture. She decided she really would send Ms. Stretton an owl soon, since the money had turned out to be much needed.
They spent the rest of the day in Diagon Alley. Tom had led her out into a small courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron which was even less impressive than the inside of the building. It was full of weeds up to their knees and a big trashcan. Jayna watched as Tom tapped a few bricks on the wall and then, slowly, the bricks rearranged themselves to form an archway.
The view beyond that was amazing. Jayna saw the cobbled street winding away from them, and along it, a diverse display of stores and carts set up. There weren't many people out, because of the chilly weather, but it still managed to look rather busy. They started out along the street, Jayna wide eyed and Tom focused on Madam Malkin's in the distance.
The purpose of the trip was to buy clothes, because Mr. Bingsby was much shorter than Tom. However, most of the time was spent with Jayna getting distracted by anything shiny or weird and Tom dragging her away from shop windows.
After pulling her away from a racing broom displayed in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, Tom kept his arm looped through hers. It was easier to discourage wondering that way, which annoyed Jayna.
"Fine! You are no fun," she complained, giving up on trying to pull the Slytherin away from the path he was currently on. He was both larger and stronger than her, so she resigned to trudging along by his side and looking from afar.
"We can go anywhere you'd like after we get new robes," Tom offered.
"Anywhere I'd like?" Jayna tested. Riddle gave an impatient nod without catching the sly smile on her face.
She happily followed him into Madam Malkin's then, patiently waiting while the shopkeeper made robes for a man about 5'8" and much wider than Tom. The woman seemed skeptical of the order until Tom explained it was for his father, who was presently ill.
After the robes were neatly tucked into a parcel, Tom allowed Jayna free reign of Diagon Alley. She tugged on his arm, pulling him down the street since his pace had suddenly become much slower. Her head snapped back and forth as she excitedly debated where to go first.
"Slow down, you're going to dislocate my shoulder," Riddle complained, grinning as Jayna shot a glare back.
"Well maybe if you'd stop dragging your feet…" Jayna replied haughtily, deciding that she wanted to stop in the pet store first. However, Tom caught her arm and whirled her back around. He managed to stop her before she ran right into him, staring down daringly into her eyes.
"Do we need a course in manners, Barrows?" he asked lightly.
"I don't need manners, I need you to walk faster," Jayna retorted defiantly.
"A bit demanding…" Tom said, shaking his head. "…Perhaps if you'd ask nicely…"
Jayna couldn't believe her ears. Why was he being so difficult? His eyes were hard to read, but the rest of his face was amused…Is he…Is he FLIRTING with me now? Jayna realized in shock. Did he read a book about that too?
Laughing, she looked away for a moment before placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. Raising up onto her toes to at least try and match his height, she leaned against him, whispering in his ear, "Please, Tom, could you walk a little faster darling?" in her best impersonation of a sexy voice.
In Jayna's opinion it was a poor attempt at flirtation, but when she moved back and saw his face, it was obvious Tom would have disagreed. He smiled slowly, eyes locked onto hers. "I suppose I could," he said finally.
"Excellent," she replied brightly, slipping her hand into his. "We're going to the Magical Menagerie first."
This time, Tom cooperated as she led him into the pet store, twining her fingers through his long, slender ones. He didn't even make a wise remark when she started baby talking to little turtles in a glass aquarium that climbed atop one another in escape attempts. He just watched her coo and awe over the animals.
After a few moments, he was unsettled by the look on his face when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in glass.
Composing his features into a face much less sappy and pathetic, he made sure not to let the façade fall. Until Jayna attempted to rescue mice from being fed to a freakishly large snake, resulting in them getting kicked out. Then his serious look fell as he laughed hysterically on the sidewalk, Jayna glaring grumpily back in the window as the shopkeeper fed the serpent.
"Poor things…" she murmured, eyes narrowed as the owner glanced back and made a shooing motion.
Tom caught his breath. "Sometimes I doubt you're real. You are ridiculous."
Jayna turned to glance at him, his nose pink from the cold, his eyes bright from laughter, and couldn't help but smile. He's like a different person. Suddenly forgetting about the fate of the mice, she walked two steps and threw her arms around him.
The Heir of Slytherin froze at the sudden display of affection, as usual. But after a second he returned the embrace, and Jayna was surprised to feel him press a light kiss to the top of her head. Despite the cold, she would have liked to stand there all day like that. He smells good…
Until Tom said, "You know, Sorcio eats the same thing."
Then Jayna was reminded of her previous bad mood and pulled away, making a disgusted face. "Must you point that out?" she asked.
He shrugged a shoulder. "It's the way of life. The strong prey on the weak."
Jayna narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, well in my utopia," she began, poking him in the chest, "everyone lives together happily and no one does any preying on anyone else."
"Utopia? It sounds more like a fantasy world," Riddle commented dryly, placing a hand on her back to lead her away from the storefront.
"Maybe, but my fantasy world is sure as hell a lot happier a place than the real world. Plus it has purple skies and clouds made of butterflies," she continued on, lost in her daydream as he guided her into a small restaurant.
"Oh? And I suppose there, you are the reigning Queen of Insanity?" Tom added, smirking.
"No, I'm actually the Princess of Unicorns," the blonde insisted as they took seats at the counter. They ordered two hot chocolates to warm them up. It was not snowing yet in Diagon Alley, but the cold was still offensive.
They spent a while sipping at the drinks, and bantering on about a place Tom referred to as the land of crazy, ruled by none other than Jayna. After a while, Jayna noticed they were situated directly opposite Ollivander's wand shop.
Pulling her reddish colored wand out of her back pocket, she decided to stop by. After they paid, Jayna darted across the street and into the wand shop. A little bell overhead dinged, announcing their presence.
"You've already got a wand, why are we here?" Tom whispered from behind her.
"I want to know what's in it," Jayna replied. When he cocked an eyebrow questioningly, she continued, half lying. "It was given to me by someone else, I never knew anything about it."
"Hello."
Jayna jumped almost out of her shoes at the sudden appearance of a man in front of them. Judging by Riddle's scowl, he had been taken by surprise as well.
Ollivander was an odd looking man to say the least. He was tall but lanky, and his brown hair stuck up around his head as though he had stuck his finger in a muggle electrical outlet. His eyes were a piercing silver, and Jayna shifted nervously under his gaze.
"Right, hello," she said after a moment. "Um, I was wondering if you could tell me about this wand? Anything really, I-"
"Give it here," he said quietly, extending a hand. She obeyed, handing it over. He held it by his fingertips at each end, and he cocked his head this way and that as he peered at it from every direction. Finally, he held it up to the light and announced, "This wand is most peculiar."
"Why does that not surprise me…" Tom muttered under his breath.
Jayna shot him a glare. "What's peculiar about it?"
"It bears no sign of the maker. It is not mine, but I doubt it was made by any other of my competitors. Very strange…" he murmured, running a hand along it. "It is only nine inches, and made of cherry…"
"Okay," Jayna said uncertainly. "Anything else?" "It is very rigid at first touch, but more pliable than it appears. A stubborn wand, I suppose. It was most likely difficult to master, yes?"
Jayna nodded, but was unsure she could really place the blame for her initial difficulties with magic on the wand. However, Ollivander seemed convinced.
"Yes, reluctant at first but loyal once tamed. I must assume it works rather well for you now," he said, returning the wand.
"But what about the core?" Jayna asked, slightly disappointed.
"The core? Only the maker could tell you that. I would hazard a guess that it is not a common core, however," Ollivander said, already drifting back between the tight rows of shelves that lined his store. He disappeared behind narrow boxes of wands, leaving Tom and Jayna in the dusty front of his store.
Jayna heaved a sigh, looking over her wand carefully. The next time she saw Dumbledore, she would ask about it.
They ate dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, chatted up by an overly friendly Mr. Dodderidge. He seemed to be of the opinion that the cold weather was caused by all of the magical disturbances Grindelwald was bringing to their world.
"An I'm telling you, both o you," he said, pointing at them with one finger, "This is all 'cause of his war. All the animals be acting up, and this cold-"
"It is November, Sir," Tom spoke up. Jayna could tell he was already aggravated and a moment away from trying to drown himself in his soup. He was clutching his spoon as if contemplating the best way to use it as a weapon.
They had already sat through Dock's opinions on Dumbledore, the Ministry, and the Daily Prophet. All of which were being controlled by the enemy, and part of the innkeeper's conspiracy theories. The few other patrons to the Cauldron were sending amused glances over, as they had most likely been the captive audience to those theories at one point or another.
"Oh, sure sure, it's November, but-but…" he trailed off as something was heard hitting the walls. Jayna glanced from side to side, confused, as something pummeled the wood around them. Out the window, it was revealed that a hail had begun to pound the ground, bouncing back up off of the pavement and lit up by the streetlights.
"You see! You see, Thomas? This aint nothing normal," he insisted, point proven.
"Oh," Jayna said in mock surprise, laying a hand across her stomach. "I am suddenly not feeling so well. I think I'm going to have to excuse myself," she said, pushing her chair out to stand up.
The Slytherin beside her immediately picked up on the lie, and sent her a glare that clearly said 'Don't you dare leave me here to listen to this alone.' Jayna contemplated doing just that before she sighed.
"Oh Thomas, won't you help me upstairs?" she asked, her voice coming out dainty and troubled. I'm getting so much better at this acting thing. Meh.
"Of course!" he said, practically jumping up. "Sir, thank you so much for the company, but we're going to retire for the evening. Goodnight."
"G'night, Thomas. And do feel better, Miss Thomas's lady friend," Mr. Dodderidge announced, smiling. As Jayna treaded the stairs up, she looked back to see Dodderidge settle himself at the next table. The black haired witch there put down her magazine, humoring him.
When they got to the landing and entered the sitting room, Jayna went over to her door awkwardly. Hand on the knob, she called to Riddle, "Well, good night then…"
"Wait," he ordered.
She turned back around, halfway through the door, as Tom leaned down to capture a kiss. Surprised, Jayna dropped her hand. He pulled away only a centimeter, his lips brushing hers as he replied, "Goodnight." Then he left her standing there, disappearing into his own room.
Uh…Oh, right, walk. Jayna thought stupidly to herself as she entered her own bedroom that she rather liked the previous sleeping arrangement. However she was in a different era and it would have put forth an improper image to be sharing a room at an inn. The only reason for their sharing at the Stretton's was because of the single guest bedroom.
Still, she could pout. And pout she did as she wrapped herself in blankets, doing her best to tune out the hail storm still assaulting the roof overhead. Jayna tried to sleep but found it impossible and eventually resorted to pulling out her demonology book. It was actually interesting reading, as most of the demons were described comically and had strange stories behind them.
Jayna got to a particularly interesting demon who had multiple names, apparently one in every language. In his true form, this demon supposedly had the body of a man and the head of a serpent. Well at least he's not a peacock-lion like the last one…
It could also possess any living thing, like all the other mythological fiends she had previously read about. However, this demon had a few extra cards up his sleeve in addition to the general doom and gloom. Jayna skimmed the description:
"Attacks through a man's pride…Sows discord among people…Causes destruction and war through tyrants…Teaches those he favors to kill their enemies, masters, and servants…Teaches men understanding of the voices of some animals."
Jayna's brow furrowed as she shivered. A particularly large chunk of ice hit the window, making her jerk as she turned the page. There, an illustration in black and white stared up at her from the yellowed paper. The demon drawn had slit eyes like that of a snake, and mere slits for a nose. It had stained teeth drawn into fangs, and veins criss-crossed its skin like a map.
With a shriek, Jayna shoved the book away from her with such force it skittered across the floor and thudded against the farthest baseboard. She stared, wide eyed, at the innocent brown leather cover that proudly displayed the title, glinting in the light.
Not two seconds after her scream, her door flew open so hard it banged into the wall. And there was Riddle, wand out, and apparently he had been caught in the middle stages of undress. Shoeless, with his shirt completely unbuttoned and pulled up out of his pants. Jayna's stare moved from the book to the sliver of pale skin that was visible on his torso.
"What's wrong? Jayna?" he asked, alarmed, his gaze sweeping over the room. She opened her mouth to respond but no sound came out. "Jayna! Speak!"
Her eyes finally traveled back up to his face, as offended, she managed to say, "I am not a dog."
Irritated, Tom lowered his wand slightly. "Why did you scream?"
"I…Nothing." Jayna said quickly, as an embarrassed blush crept into her cheeks.
Tom narrowed his eyes, taking a step into the room. "What were you screaming about? I am not accepting 'nothing' as an answer."
Lamely, Jayna lifted her arm to point at the rejected book. Tom followed her gesture, and crossed the room to pick it up. "Demonology?" he read. "You screamed because of a book?" his voice was doubtful.
Jayna made a face. "There was an entry…Bring it here?" she asked, holding out her hand. She was reluctant to leave the tent of blankets she'd made. He sat beside her, offering her the book once more.
"See, here," she said defensively, opening it up to the picture. "It's just like my nightmares."
Tom narrowed his eyes, fascinated, as he took the book back and read. Jayna tried to be a good girl as his eyes moved over the entry, but her own eyes kept getting drawn back towards his chest. Pervert. Stop checking him out. Finally she resigned herself to staring back down at her hands until he spoke up.
"This is the demon," he said quietly. "Of course we can't be certain, but it sounds like it…Does this book offer advice on dealing with them?"
Jayna shook her head. "No, I think it's more like an encyclopedia than a how-to guide."
The corner of Riddle's mouth jerked up in a smile as he closed the book, tossing it down on the bedside table. "I thought you'd had another nightmare."
"Sorry if I freaked you out," Jayna said, still awkwardly staring at her hands.
"It's fine. Jayna…" Tom looked thoughtful before he finally asked. "Is that really what I would have looked like? That thing?" She nodded silently. "And you have known that all along?" Again, another silent nod. Riddle sighed, looking away.
"Why?" she asked curiously.
"I can't imagine it must have been pleasant, trying to be around me with that image haunting you," he mused quietly.
The blonde girl looked over at his eyes, veiled as he refused to allow emotions through. "I'm not going to lie, that picture in the book scares me. But it was easier than you might think."
"How so? Forcing yourself to associate with someone who you know for certain could become a monster?" he asked, voice becoming tight as his face turned to stone.
Jayna laid back on the bed, staring up at the beamed ceiling. After a few seconds she offered, "I'm an optimistic."
Tom let out a curt laugh of disbelief. "That's it? That is all the reasoning?"
Jayna ignored that, and instead said in an offhanded voice, "Tell me about your life, Tom."
Tom's head snapped to the side as he glanced back at her before shaking his head. "My life has, up until this point, been utterly unremarkable. It would be of no interest to you."
Jayna reached out to his arm, and with a tug managed to pull him backward so he was laying beside her, the wrong way on the bed so that their legs dangled off. She kicked his nearest leg slightly with her foot. "Tell me," she insisted. "Start at the beginning."
Tom turned his face to the side to focus on her. "Maybe I don't want to."
She took his hand once more, raising it to brush her lips against his knuckles. "Maybe you don't have a choice."
He sighed, gaze returning to the ceiling. "I was born. I lived. Eventually I will die. Content?" he asked, voice bored.
"Oh, Tom," she sighed.
His grip on her hand tightened, and Tom turned his face away from hers completely. "I've already told you about my parents. My mother died and left me in an orphanage. I stay there every summer and come back to Hogwarts every year. What is there left to say?"
"Plenty," Jayna insisted. "Those are just facts."
"And what else is there, besides facts?" was his dull response.
"Feelings. How do you feel about your mother, your father? About the orphanage? Hogwarts? Facts are just half of it," she said thoughtfully.
"I hate my mother. I hate my father. I hate the orphanage. Hogwarts…It's the closest home I've got," he retorted.
"You can't hate your mother," Jayna argued sensibly.
"And why is that?" when Tom looked back at her, his eyes were narrowed suspiciously.
"Because she loved you."
"How would you know that?" Riddle demanded, doubtful.
"Because she gave you life," she stated.
"That does not mean she loved me. She never knew me," Tom retorted.
"I'm not a mother, but I'd wager it is impossible to have your child growing inside of you for nine months, to live just so you can bring them into the world, and not love them," Jayna replied.
The Slytherin sighed. "I don't want to argue philosophy with you, Jayna."
"So talk. And I'll shut up so I can listen," she pointed out.
Tom threatened tiredly, "I could make you be quiet other ways." His wand was still held loosely in his left hand.
From the bedpost where Sorcio had been wound, a hiss issued. "…You could," Jayna admitted. She propped herself up, closer to Tom, and trailed her fingertips down his cheek. Roughly, he shoved his face into the palm of her hand, eyes tumultuous. "Why do you hate the orphanage?" she whispered.
His fierce blue eyes slid closed as she stroked his hair. "The others are all scared of me there. Before I learned about magic, I couldn't control myself…Or my temper."
"Did you hurt anyone?" she asked softly, and bit her lip when he nodded, face guilty like a little kid.
"We were all pathetic, but they made fun of me because I'm not truly an orphan. I'm just unwanted," Tom said slowly. "So I scared them, and they stopped…I liked it. Seeing them terrified."
Jayna had frozen, and his eyes snapped back open, searching hers. "You said to talk. Do you not want to listen anymore?" he asked, sarcastic.
She shook her head. "No. As long as you want to talk, I want to listen."
He took a deep breath. Finally, he let it out. "I don't sleep much. At Hogwarts it is because of the magic. At the orphanage it's because there are always children crying. Everywhere. They think everyone else is asleep when in reality half of them are awake and sobbing."
Jayna cringed at the thought of a place so depressing. Tom's face was blank as he continued. "There was a girl there, when I was little. She would help out, and I liked her. She told stories."
"Like what?" Jayna asked.
His gaze searched the ceiling again, and finding nothing but wood and nails returned to her. "Just stupid stories, the kind children like. She got fired because one night, she told us Halloween is when the dead visit."
Confused, Jayna frowned. "Why would that get her fired?"
"After we were put to bed, I snuck out. I thought my mother would be visiting, so I tried to go to the cemetery she is buried in," Tom said faintly.
"Oh…" Jayna gasped quietly, suddenly not wanting to hear the end of that memory. Still, he was not about to stop.
"It was foolish, but I didn't realize how far it was from the orphanage. It was cold and rainy that night, by the time they found me I was practically hypothermic. They fired her straight away," he said tonelessly, as if relating a boring fact.
Jayna was speechless, she could only search his face for any hint of emotion, but he had recovered well from the previous night. He was not letting anything through at the moment. The clock in the corner chimed then, informing them it was already midnight.
"Midnight, the magical hour," Tom said suddenly, smiling slightly. "What do you wish for, Jayna?"
She was taken aback by his abrupt change in mood. She blinked before closing her eyes and making a silent wish. When she opened them, he was watching her expectantly. "Well?" he asked.
"I can't tell you, my wish won't come true then," Jayna complained.
"Alright then. I think I've had enough talking for tonight," Riddle said. "Should I leave so you can get to sleep?"
"Actually…could you stay so I can get to sleep? I don't have nightmare when I'm with you," she said sincerely, looking away as another blush tinged her face. Please don't take it the wrong way, please don't take it the wrong way…
Tom looked surprised but nodded, to her relief. Jayna hesitantly laid her head back down on the bed, letting her eyes fall shut. "You know what you remind me of, Tom?" she asked quietly, already feeling sleep tugging on her mind, lulling her away from reality.
"What is that?" he asked, voice closer to her as he had relaxed back onto the bed as well.
"That poem…We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes," she quoted, half asleep. Unsure where she had even heard it, it was stuck into her mind.
"You know Dunbar's work? An American muggle?" he asked, surprised.
She laughed softly, pointing out, "And you said you doubted my ability for poetry…"
"I'm sorry to have ruined your literary dreams," he apologized. Jayna grinned before falling asleep.
Why should the world be over-wise…In counting all our tears and sighs…
