Riddle in the Moonlight
After tossing and turning in her narrow bed for over an hour, Buffy knew that sleep was going to evade her tonight. Not only was the boggart making furtive little scratching noises inside her wardrobe, but she was worried about her Mom and the things she'd overheard the Ministry guys saying as they left.
The family her Mom wanted to meet, what if they didn't want to see them because they were Squibs? What was a Squib? What had they done so wrong?
The boggart scratched again and Buffy had had enough. She pushed back the itchy bedding and sat up. From over her shoulder, moonlight trickled into her room from between the gap in the curtains. Mrs Cole wouldn't like the way the curtains she'd left the curtains. The woman had given Buffy a long lecture on how the curtains needed to be closed tightly so that the German bombers wouldn't spot any light. Not wanting the orphanage to be bombed because of her Buffy had only pulled back the curtains once she'd switched off the light. It wasn't as if she needed a light to find her way in the dark, not with her keen night vision.
The boggart bumped gently against the side of the wardrobe. It must have heard her moving and want to come out. Deciding to get a glass of water Buffy slipped on her slippers and padded over to the wardrobe, opening it and letting the boggart to float out. It bounded around her excitedly looking like a the ghost of a little puffer fish.
"I'm not playing," Buffy said firmly, refusing to look at its big soulful eyes. "Can't you go and scare some mice or something?"
It gave her a reluctant nod before shooting off through the ceiling.
Buffy opened her bedroom door, making sure the bathroom was empty before heading for it. Although she wouldn't pass Tom's door to reach their shared bathroom she moved quietly, so as not to wake him. The rest of the bedrooms along this corridor were empty; most of the kids had been evacuated from Wool's and only those with ill parents or waiting to be evacuated were still here.
On her way back to her room, she heard the sound of a heavy truck rumbling past and coming to a stop further down the street. Curious, Buffy moved to the window that overlooked the street and tugged aside the thick black material. From downstairs, came the sound of the hallway clock striking eleven. What was a truck doing outside at this time? She peered out into the deserted cobble street, looking to her left where she thought the vehicle might have gone. There were no street lights but the moon showed her an empty street. Had it turned into the next street or turned into one of the back alleyways? What were they up to? They might be what Martha called Spivs, men who dealt in blackmarket goods. She'd the urge to go outside and investigate.
"If Mrs Cole catches you out of bed, you'll be scrubbing floors for days," Tom said quietly from one of the shadows behind her.
Buffy jumped and then squeaked, as the glass of water in her hand drenched her in cold water.
With a soft shush of warning, Tom stepped from the shadows. Buffy saw he wore a dark-coloured robe over his snake pajamas. She alsos noticed that the robe had a coat of arms embroidered onto the breast pocket. There was enough light for Buffy to read the word underneath the shield – Slytherin. She wondered what it meant, and was about to ask, when Tom distracted her.
He pulled the glass from her wet hand. "I don't want you to make more of a mess," he scolded as if she was a small child.
As he placed the glass carefully upon the window ledge, a long section of black hair fell over his forehead. Buffy gasped as a memory of another dark-haired man came to her - Angel.
Seeing her staring at him, Tom raised a questioning eyebrow. Buffy didn't notice. She frowned, as her mind tried to remember more of the man who'd once met so much to her.
Tom caught the frown and asked, "What's wrong?"
She looked away, her eyes still unfocused as she fought to hold onto the elusive memory. "You reminded me of someone, that's all."
"A boy?" he asked, feeling irritated. He was special, he was different. He shouldn't remind her of anyone but him.
"A man." Since Tom was waiting, expecting her to explain, Buffy went on, "Except, I don't think, that I really knew him. I think he must be a figment of my imagination." She twisted, looking up, and directly into his dark eyes. "Tom, do you ever remember doing something that could never have happened?" she asked.
Tom blinked, confused. "What? Er, no. Perhaps you should see a doctor?"
"I don't want to see a doctor. It's probably just the amnesia affecting me." Buffy tried to shrug it off, hoping that he'd forget all about it. She wouldn't tell him about the other things she knew. Tom was the sort who'd never believe in magic or that there were people called Purebloods, Squibs, and Muggles. If she told him that a dark wizard had hexed her, he'd probably say she was destined for a straitjacket and a trip to the crazy ward.
Tom gave her a narrow look before turning his gaze to look out the window. The two of them stared out at the moonlit street. Across from the orphanage were rows upon rows of identical terraced houses, each with wartime criss-cross tape at the windows and blackout curtains to keep in the light. Neither Tom nor Buffy thought the view interesting and they soon were caught up in their own thoughts.
Tom was wondering how to broach the subject of the Aurors he'd seen at the orphanage earlier that day. As soon as he'd opened the door and caught the word hypogriff he'd known right away the men who'd interviewed Buffy weren't Muggles.
"Are you planning to sneak off to the hospital again?" he asked eventually. He still had doubts that she'd actually gone to see her mother. It was one thing for him to sneak off and explore London on his own, quite another for a girl to do the same thing.
"Not tonight." Buffy had a feeling she'd be pushing her luck sneaking in there two nights in a row. She was hoping to go tomorrow night. Maybe after visiting the hotel, she'd find information on the family her mother was planning on meeting. If she could only find a clue to who they were, perhaps it would jog her Mom's memory.
A movement outside the window suddenly caught her eye. Forgetting Tom, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead onto the glass and angling her head so that she could peer sideways down the street.
Tom watched her, taking in the way a lock of fair hair brushed her cheek, the way shadows appeared beneath her long eyelashes, and how her skin glowed where the moonlight touched it. Was she part Veela? He'd no idea if the Veela interbred with Muggles, but it wouldn't surprise him if Buffy had something unusual in her ancestry.
She tensed. "There's someone in the street!"
"A drunk coming home from the pub most likely." He'd stood at this window many times over the years to watch the street outside. It was probably the most boring street in the world, nothing ever happened in this part of London, and he would be glad to leave it behind.
Without any warning, Buffy grabbed his wrist, pulling him against her. Tom scowled, he disliked any form of close physical contact and now he was stood so close to her that he could feel the warmth from her body radiating through her thin nightdress. The scent of vanilla and almonds drifted from her to his nose.
Feeling awkward, he went to step away, but she hissed excitedly, "Look!"
Buffy nodded downward, her eyes never leaving one of the large pillared columns that stood like sentries on either side of the orphanage gate.
"There's someone down there, hiding in the shadows. Whoever it is doesn't want anyone to see them."
Intrigued, Tom forgot about moving away. Instead, he leaned in, his face close to hers as they both stared into the darkness below. Seconds ticked by, then one of the shadows by the column moved to the gate, opened it quietly, and slipped into the orphanage grounds.
"I thought those gates were always locked at night?" Buffy whispered.
Tom didn't reply. He watched silently as the shadow made its way to the side of the orphanage. They were heading for the door that led directly into Mrs Cole's private quarters.
"It's nothing to worry about. This is how Mrs Cole boosts her salary."
"Huh?" Buffy turned her face to his. Their faces were close, intimately close. Tom took a step back.
"Huh, is not a word," he said firmly. "Do try to speak English and refrain from making caveman grunts that pass as language in some cultures." He fought to keep the smirk off his face when she rolled her eyes at him.
But Buffy was more exasperated than annoyed. There was a mystery here and the guy was hung up on her wordage. "Stop being so... Gilesy. One day you're gonna cut yourself on that stiff upper lip."
"Giles?" he asked sharply.
Buffy froze. An image in her head of a man, her Mom's age. He was stood in a library and in the process of taking his glasses off and polishing them. Another memory of him handing her an old book with the title Vampyre. Yet another of him taking her into a back room where she set about kicking and punching a dummy as he watched. Giles, her Watcher.
Seeing her unfocussed again, Tom poked her arm with a finger. "Buffy?"
A shiver ran through her. Someone, somewhere, had just stepped on her grave.
"Who's Giles?" Tom asked again. Was he the man she'd been thinking of earlier? He felt a spark of annoyance at this Giles, the man who could tug her attention from him so easily.
"He was my teacher. A friend, sort of, I think." Buffy didn't say that she'd a feeling he was from her darker memories. The memories that came to her at night were always the worst. She'd wake up, soaked in sweat, heart pounding, and her muscles aching as if she'd just fought a huge battle.
She didn't want to talk about those memories to Tom. Instead, she nodded to the side of the building the shadowy visitor had gone to."So what's going on? What's Cole's sideline? Is she selling blackmarket goods?" She gave a little chuckle. "Is she a spiv?"
Tom shook his head. "No." He looked her over speculatively. "The passing of information between one person and another," he continued cryptically, "suggests a transaction of a sort."
"Huh? Can you vague that up for me a bit?"
It was his turn to roll his eyes and he let out a small huff of frustration. "I give you information and you provide me with something in return."
Buffy wrinkled her nose and gave him a withering look. "You want me to pay?"
Tom's smile was dark. "In a way," he breathed.
Buffy moved quickly away from him. Poised on her toes, ready to scamper back to her room. "Oh no! I'm not gonna make out with you!"
He wasn't sure whether to be amused or annoyed at her reaction. He settled for a scowl. "Perish the thought."
"Whadya mean, perish the thought?!" Now it was her turn to be affronted. "I'm not that bad."
He took in her upturned indignant face and then let his eyes slowly track down her floor-length nightdress that was, so obviously, a well-worn orphanage one. Then he gave her an oh-yes-you-are look. He ignored the rather evil glare she gave him in return. Having made his point, he continued, "An information trade only. You answer my question and I'll answer yours."
"Is this gonna be like truth or dare?" Her eyes narrowed. "Are you going to ask about something rude?"
"Definitely not. Why would you even think that?"
"I know how fifteen year old boys think," she replied sweetly. "Anyway, what's to say that after I tell you something you don't trade back?
Internally, Tom was smiling broadly at her question. If she'd been a witch, this girl would probably have got into Slytherin. She'd got a healthy distrust of verbal contracts, not to mention a dark and devious streak. "Because, if I renegade on the deal then you'll never provide me with more information in the future.
Buffy tilted her chin and asked with a teasing smile, "You saying we have a future together, Tom?"
Without thinking, he retorted, "Only if you wish to become one of my minions."
Buffy laughed. "And here I was, thinking that you might want to be my Scooby when really you want to be the Evil Overlord. So what do you wanna know?"
"What did those Ministry officials want today?" He didn't say Ministry of Magic Aurors but he knew what they were. When he'd seen them, he'd wondered if they'd found out he'd bought a boggart with the intention of setting it loose in a Muggle building. Muggle baiting was against the law and frowned on by the Ministry. It was Martha who'd let it slip the men were here for Buffy.
"They wanted to see me," Buffy replied.
"Yes, but why-?"
"Ah-ah! Information exchange." The annoying bint smirked at him. "Question for a question. Me next." Tom's face grew stony. Buffy continued to smirk and asked, "What's that person here for?"
Tom raised a dark-winged brow at her, an odd glitter in his eyes. "To see Mrs Cole."
"Har, har! Your killin' me with your jokes, Tom Riddle." Realising she was talking far too loudly, she lowered her voice and whispered. "What's their business with Mrs Cole?"
"It's my turn. Not yours." He raised his chin imperiously and leaned his back against the window ledge, his eyes scanning her face, using legilimency. "What did the Ministry men say to you?" he asked, allowing his natural ability work its own magic
Something nudged at Buffy's mind. Like a thief, it stole into her mind and there it met the Slayer. The shadows that lurked inside her pushed him back, guarding, and protecting. Tom blinked in surprise. He'd gotten further than in previous occasions but then had been pushed back, all he could think was 'Occlumency in a Muggle?'
He took a steadying breath and repeated the question, "What did the men from the Ministry say to you?"
"They were investigating the bomb explosion Mom and I were involved in. They kept asking lots of questions that I couldn't answer because I don't remember any of it." She tilted her head, watching his face as he processed the information she'd given him. "Your turn to spill. I gave you extra so it had better be good."
"Mrs Cole isn't as as high in her morals as she likes to pretend," replied Tom. "She runs a small business stopping unwanted babies from being born. Occasionally she gets late night callers like this one. I suspect that if they are wealthy enough, she will make a house call."
"Abortion is illegal?" Buffy asked.
"Do you really think she'd hide it, if it wasn't?" Buffy noticed his expression had grown sour. "People have a tendency to hide foul deeds behind benevolent smiles. Remember that Buffy, not everyone is what they pretend to be."
Buffy stared down at the cobbled street in front of the orphanage. "How does she..." she waved a hand. Part of her wondering how backstreet abortions were carried out, another part of her too scared to ask for details.
"Do you need her services?" quipped Tom.
"No! I've never... or at least I don't think I have." Buffy didn't know if she was a virgin or not and flushed at discussing it with a boy. She felt glad it was night time, at least he wouldn't see how pink her cheeks had become.
"Do you remember their names?" Tom wondered if the Aurors had given their real ones.
"What do you mean, do I remember their names?!" Buffy hissed annoyed. "What sort of girl do you think I am?"
Tom stared down his nose at her. "The men from the Ministry."
Buffy's face softened. "Oh, Alastor Moody was one of them. He was the youngest and quite cute. He said I was feisty and he seemed to like me." Tom scowled. "The other was called Mortimer. They lost interest after I told them I had amnesia and left."
He nodded, satisfied by her account. It was obvious the bomb explosion was a magical event, and if Buffy had already lost her memory there'd be no need to obliviate her. "You asked how the abortion is done? I believe one of Mrs Cole's medical procedure involves the use of a knitting needle."
"Eww!"
Buffy knew that Mrs Cole was a keen knitter. She'd seen her sat with Martha and the kids knitting away at sweaters. After what Tom had just told her she'd never look at knitting needle in the same way again. "Please, don't tell me how you know this."
Tom curled his lip. "It is merely something that I overheard once. I haven't spied through a keyhole."
Buffy leaned her forehead against the window once again. "Those poor women must be desperate."
Tom shrugged. "One less brat facing a life of misery without its parents in this hellhole." He didn't care about Muggle babies, didn't care about magical babies. No one had cared for him when he'd been a baby.
"What do you know about your parents, Tom?" Buffy asked out the blue.
He looked up, to find her staring at him intently. He'd never spoken about his family to others, those at school wouldn't understand and those at the orphanage had irritated him with their lack of intelligence. Oddly, he found himself telling Buffy, "My mother came here, gave birth on New Years Eve, named me, and then died within an hour. There isn't much else to tell." He didn't say that he'd believed for years that his father was the wizard and that his mother had been a weak Muggle woman to die the way she did.
"What does the paperwork say about you?" Buffy pressed. "Is it in Mrs Cole's office?"
"No." Like any orphan Tom had always been curious about his parents. As soon as he'd learned to read he'd sneaked into Mrs Cole's office looking for clues and hadn't been able to find anything. "They keep all the files in the Town Hall. I overheard a conversation once between an orphan who'd left here and Mrs Cole. The woman told him that all his information was held by Mr Hardman and, even though the boy was now eighteen, she'd told him the files were closed and he'd never be given permission to see them."
Buffy moved away from him, throwing back the words, "What are we waiting for?" over her shoulder as she marched towards her room.
"What do you mean?" Tom strode after her, his long legs quickly closing the distance between them. Buffy came to a sudden stop and he almost collided with her.
"Since I can't work out who my family is right now," said Buffy, "let's work on finding out about yours. We can pay a nocturnal visit to the Town Hall."
Tom wondered why the idea had never occurred to him. He looked down into Buffy's face, seeing the sparkle of mischief dancing in her eyes at the thought of the adventure ahead. "Fine," he said, wondering what he'd let himself in for.
When he went to follow her, Buffy clicked her tongue at him and pointed over to his room. "You need to change into something more ninja warrior appropriate, Tom-Tom. I'm not roaming around London with you dressed in your snake pyjamas."
Then she gave him a huge smile and pranced off to her room, presumably to change
Tom Riddle found himself standing alone in the empty corridor. He stared over at her room, it seemed he'd been very wrong in thinking Buffy would do well in Slytherin. The girl was a ruddy Griffindor through and through.
…...
A/N ; thank you to those who left reviews!