CW: orphanages, ghosts, anxiety, abandonment

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Catharsis and Calm

When Tom woke the next morning, he sent off an owl to Mr. Sinclair before he could change his mind. He felt so content and at peace that he didn't want to jeopardize those feelings by thinking about it anymore.

Once that task was completed, Tom found it much easier to sit down to his other projects. He steadily worked through the second tome translations, completing more chapters in one morning than he had in several weeks. Marvolo was more tired than usual, so he declined coming with Tom to the village when he suggested going in for some food.

So instead, Tom set off from the house in a cheerful mood. The path away from their house was bright with autumn leaves, and Tom found himself appreciating how much nicer the path looked since he had smoothed it over. As he neared the entrance to the main road, Tom felt suddenly struck by the desire to go into London instead.

Tom didn't exactly know why, but he felt himself, for lack of a better word, being pulled towards a place he couldn't fathom. After being in the company of Death for so long though, Tom didn't question these feelings and instead apparated.

After he steadied himself, Tom looked around at his surroundings. From the smell and the general atmosphere, Tom knew he was in London. But something about this area felt hauntingly familiar. Confused, Tom began to walk from out of the alley he'd landed in, wondering where exactly he had gone.

It wasn't until he had walked an entire street that he began to realize why he recognized this place. The closer he got to the gray building, the deeper his feeling of unease grew. Why was Death doing this? Even by her standards, this was a cruel joke.

Tom stopped and stood outside the gate of Wool's Orphanage. His eyes, which had been so calm moments before, now swam with the chaos and sadness of an unloved child. It was as if all of those memories and feelings bombarded him at once, as if he had never truly left them. He was about to lose himself in these memories when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He didn't even turn around, knowing it was Death standing there. Instead, he asked in a voice that was barely a whisper. "Why?"

"Because you're ready to face this." Death said gently. "This place, these memories that have held you so tightly. They are holding you here the way a ghost is held to where they died."

Tom shook his head minutely, but didn't speak. He wanted to trust Death, but...these feelings. They were still very big, all-consuming. It had been easier to acknowledge his flaws, maybe even easier to feel remorse for his horcruxes, than it was to simply stand in this place. Nothing had happened to him here. He knew that people usually only felt the way he did when something terrible happened to them, but the way he was treated here felt worse.

He was never wanted here. For better or for worse, nobody noticed him here. Even when he acted out, even when he became more and more violent, he was never given the attention or acknowledgement he needed. They say that hatred is the worst thing that can happen to a person, but it isn't true - indifference hurts so much worse than that. Even the people he hurt never really acknowledged him for what he was. They shut down and shut him out instead.

Death gazed at the building beside Tom, not looking at him as she spoke again.

"There's something very few realize about ghosts - becoming a ghost is not something only witches and wizards can achieve. Their magic simply makes them strong enough to speak and be seen by others. Non-magical humans may also become ghosts, but they remain mostly invisible to others."

Tom barely started at this information, though his unease grew the more she spoke.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I think you know why, Tom."

Tom's frantic eyes caught Death's, almost pleading her to let them both leave. But she simply stated. "There are people who wish to see you here, Tom."

Death waved her hand over the gray building, showing Tom children which had previously been invisible. They were all around the two of them, watching and waiting. They all wore the too-familiar gray uniform that Wool's Orphanage could afford. They all seemed to recognize Tom, though it would have been two more years before his birth and arrival at this place.

Once Death had finished, she rested her hand back at her side.

"Tom, these are the unborn souls of the children you grew up with here. They have been informed of your story and your journey, and they wish to speak with you."

Tom heard Death's voice, but couldn't focus on it because he was locked into the eyes of a ghost girl standing several feet from him. Her little face held eyes that looked much too big for it, and they were searching Tom's face carefully. After what felt like an eternity, the ghost girl seemed to find what she was looking for, steeled herself, and approached Tom with a trembling sort of bravery.

She stopped in front of him, then looked up at Death, as if for confirmation. Death gave the girl a small nod.

"We missed you, Tom." She whispered.

He stared down at her, surprise etched on his features, but did not speak. He felt rooted to the spot and was unsure if he would ever be able to move or speak again. In the silence, the little girl's voice rang out.

"When you were here, you made us feel safe." Her eyes were darting about his face, as though he would surely disappear if she stopped looking. "No one was bullied while you were here, especially us."

She gestured to the small children like herself. "You did not know our names, but we knew yours, and we needed you."

They all nodded their heads solemnly. She continued to speak, although it became shaky and forlorn.

"We tried our best...to be our best for you. We did our chores flawlessly, we played quietly in the house, we did our best not to get hurt…" Her lip trembled. "But we failed. We failed and you left us here."

She was lost for a moment, her tears vanishing in midair since they had no form, but she stiffened and wiped at her eyes immediately. She tried to straighten up, tall and proud like Tom used to stand as a child.

"We tried to be our very best when you returned. When you were gone, everything crashed around us, the bullies, the staff, the bombs…." Her eyes widened in fear instinctively, but she pushed on. "But we were just too small. We failed and you got hurt and you left us."

She stood there, wringing her hands, though she seemed to be trying to keep still at the same time. Her head was bowed again, fighting the tears Tom used to despise seeing. Tom's eyes wandered over the other children in the crowd, noticing them all crying and looking at him as if they too were ashamed.

Tom didn't fully understand why he was doing it, but he found himself kneeling in front of the little girl, his arms open to her. When she was finally composed enough to look up, her eyes instantly refilled with tears when she saw him. She threw herself into his arms, holding on so tightly he thought she might never let go. The other children all came forward too, wrapping themselves around him and each other in a tight huddle.

As they all held onto him, Tom realized something. He had been their leader, of a sort. These children had all depended on him, and he didn't even realize it. They had been everything he ever wanted in a follower - steadfast, honest, loyal, and they had never once complained to him about anything. He didn't even know their names. The girl had said they failed him, that he had left because of their shortcomings, but that wasn't true.

He had failed them.

All at once, he felt the sharp pain of his horcrux healing itself, holding on tighter to the children around him for support as he felt the remorse of a leadership wasted, of the trust he had broken. And, as he healed, he was surprised to find his own tears, tangible and wet on his face, falling amongst the rest of them. He had not cried in so long that he found it an incredible relief to do so. As the last pangs of pain fell, he noticed the girl in front of him gently touching his forehead, where the diadem horcrux scar rested.

"You did it." She whispered, offering him a watery smile. He found himself smiling back at her, at them all.

He spoke to the children as a whole, knowing they would be listening. "I want to thank you all for your incredible loyalty. I have neglected you all, and yet you have remained faithful."

He looked to Death for a moment, and after she nodded, proceeded.

"This time around, your lives will be protected. I take care of what is mine, and so I will keep you all safe."

Gasps of surprise and shock echoed around the children, some bursting into tears again, while others breaking out into watery smiles of their own. Tom stood up gently, taking care not to dislodge any of them. He raised his wand and began casting protective charm after charm over St. Wools, making the building practically indestructible.

After this task was completed, he knelt back down to the children's level.

"If you will all form a line, I would like to properly meet you all."

They hurried to line up, but he noticed that none of them bumped into each other, no one pushed or crowded like children Tom used to dislike. They were incredibly obedient when it came to him, and even though they all wished to meet him, they wished to please him more.

Tom spent the entire afternoon there, meeting each child in turn. He listened to them, their stories, their wants and cares, their qualms about the orphanage. They had all been younger than Tom, all of them on the sidelines of his life. They never sought to be noticed, and seemed shy in the face of his gaze and questioning.

When the final child's interview had finished, he stood again and spoke to the crowd. "I must go now, but I will return and make this place safer for you all when you arrive."

Tom turned towards Death, and together they walked back down the road.

He had a million questions, but instead asked. "Why did the matron not come out that whole time we were there?"

Death smirked. "My privacy charms are fairly effective, if I do say so myself. She, and the children who played nearby, saw nothing."

They entered the alley where he had apparated that morning. It felt like such a long time since then. For the first time since he arrived, he truly felt his age.

"Now," Death brushed off invisible dust from her black pea-coat. "That was quite excellent, Tom. But I think you ought to rest before we discuss this further. I have contacts for you to explore that will aid you in helping those children, but I also have a couple more children in my office for you to see."

Tom understood exactly who was going to be waiting for him, and felt an immeasurable gratitude to Death for letting him rest before meeting them. Not all of the orphanage children had liked him, and he needed to be held accountable for his actions towards them just as he needed to be held accountable for his responsibilities to the children he had just met.

He brushed his hands through his hair. "I had no idea...I was so focused on being a leader in the wizarding world, I didn't know I had already become one there."

"Yes, well," Death said firmly, but not unkindly. "You were and you still are. And you have a job to do because of that."

She put out her hand, and Tom held it hesitantly. In an instant, she apparated them both to a side road in Diagon Alley.

"I suspected you might want to pick up a few things to clear your head and explain your long absence to Marvolo." She said simply. "Return home and sleep before coming to my office."

And she vanished, leaving Tom there in the alley.

He stood there for a moment, idly adjusting his outer robe and collecting himself. Then, he strode out into the alley, bracing himself against the wind. What had begun as a kind autumn morning was now gearing up to be a stormy evening. And yet, for all the wind's blustering, Tom felt strangely at peace.

As he half-heartedly browsed various shops, Tom considered the morning and all of the feelings that came with it. He was drained, much in the same way one would feel after a good cry. Despite the shocks and new responsibilities he had gained, Tom did not feel unbalanced by them. If anything, his mind and body felt like they had been waiting for them - as if it had been the piece missing for him to feel truly content.

He picked up various ingredients from the apothecary, along with Marvolo's favorite blend of loose leaf tea, before he gave up the venture and apparated home. The nice thing about Marvolo is that he wouldn't ask too many questions, especially if he was given a treat like tea. True to his nature, his only reaction to Tom's long absence was a gruff thank you for the tea and an offer to brew some for them both.

Grinning, Tom consented, walking around the kitchen with ease. He sent the cups and saucers flying over to the table, along with the sugar and fresh cream. Then, he busied himself with preparing dinner. If he hurried, he could leave dinner to cook with enough time to rest before meeting Death tonight.

He blessed Marvolo's predictability as they drank their tea together. He talked about the stubborn plant he was currently nursing, and the stubbornness of his son. Still grumbling, he shuffled back to his room for a nap after he had finished his cup.

Tom sighed pleasantly, then sent himself off for a nap too. Their dinner would be waiting for him when he awoke, along with Merope.

He hoped she was doing well at work - it was in his nature to expect the worst, so he couldn't help worrying. He wanted her to succeed, for his sake, but he now also knew it was for her own sake that he cared.

Before, that knowledge would have driven him crazy, but now? Now it made him feel warm and content, that something completely outside of himself could matter to him so much. He drifted off to sleep and, as cliche as it was, smiled.

Notes:

This chapter made me cry writing it. But I re-read the chapter in cannon with Wool's Orphanage, and it wasn't actually written as an intolerable place. It was written as a poor place certainly, and the timeline means that life was not at all easy in a place like that.

I think introducing all of these kids is really important though, because it forces Tom to see just how far his influence actually reached. Without knowing it, he'd affected all of those little humans and had abandoned them. He always wanted to be a leader, but now he actually gets to decide what kind of leader he wants to be instead of spending his life trying to 'become' one.

Next chapter will be the people he actively hurt at the orphanage though, which is not fun, but crucial.

Happy Reading!