Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Well, maybe a little bit is. But not Tom
and not Alphard. And a few others I haven't the energy to name off as well.
Chapter Two: Of Friends and Foes
The wand was safe in his pocket, but Tom continued to grip it tightly. Glancing around, he remembered that Artemus and Alphard were still shopping.
As if pulled by an invisible thread, his head slowly turned to the right, and his eyes ventured down Knockturn Alley as far as they could reach.
Tom's grip on his wand grew tighter, and his heart sped up. It seemed as if the very blood in his veins was compelling him to take a step forward. Something inside of him belonged there, though he wasn't sure exactly what.
With the sensation of falling forward with each step, Tom Riddle plunged into the daunting shadow.
"Oy, Tom!"
Broken from his captivation, he turned his head around.
"What took you so long?"
The whisperings left his mind, and he was young Tom again. "Sorry... I, er, got lost."
Artemus stifled a laugh. "Just wait until you get to the school. You'll be hopeless." Alphard nudged him in the shoulder, and Artemus grinned sheepishly. "It's true."
"You haven't even been there, you idiot." Alphard, for once, showed his superiority both in age, height, and wisdom, which must have been a rare thing, for Artemus submissively hushed, whether in due respect or mere surprise.
"What's next, then?" Tom asked eagerly.
The two brothers were somewhat amused. "School, of course. Didn't you notice it was the day we were meant to leave?"
"No one told me, and besides, what are you doing shopping at the last minute?"
"Our parents decided to kill two birds with one stone. They don't like using muggle cars much. Embarrassed, I think."
Alphard nodded. "But that's the price they pay with having children that can't Apparate."
"Yet," Artemus cut in, showing clear annoyance.
"Oh," Tom said uneasily.
Artemus scowled and muttered, "Clearly, we're going to be showing this bloke around quite a bit."
Alphard smiled good-naturedly, in deep contrast with the shorter version next to him. "Arty's only jealous he won't be the one receiving the special treatment this year."
~~~~~~~~~~
Tom didn't quite know what he'd expected – but he knew it was definitely something more than just his everyday King's Cross Station. He'd been here once before, and there hadn't seemed to be anything special about it then, nor was there now.
Apart from finding seemingly nonexistent platforms, running through walls carrying owls while dodging suspicious glances, and boarding an enormous train that headed in no cardinal direction in particular, nothing of real importance happened.
Or at least, that's how the other students described it. Tom, however, couldn't quite take it all in without catching himself a little dizzy once in a while.
"You kids get back here," Mrs. Black snapped. Tom jumped. "You can go ahead," Alphard whispered. Tom did so, and upon reaching the train, he glanced back to see the two of them being scolded for things like not standing straight and nearly bumping into important witches and wizards.
He stepped onto the train and suddenly felt awfully short. A few people who seemed to be in their seventh year were squeezing past him. He poked his head into each of the compartments finding them full of either fourth years playing some seemingly messy game involving marbles, a mob of gossiping, giggling girls, a small group of students that sat still like cardboard, each bearing a prefect's badge, or a full compartment of small first years like himself that were sorry to say there was no room.
Tom settled on a nearly empty compartment in the very back. The only occupant was a boy near, if not exactly his age with dark hair and glasses.
Tom considered the lone figure, concluded it was safe, and sat down across from him, with hope that he wouldn't disturb him. The boy seemed to be enthralled in whatever he was reading.
Tom sat still, frequently glancing at the silent boy to see if he'd noticed him sit down, but judging by his unflinching expression of vague interest in what he was reading, it didn't seem likely.
Finally, when the students felt the jolt and gentle roll of the train beginning to move, the dark haired boy looked up, out the window, and back to his book.
Tom frowned. Lack of attention always made him uneasy. Every time he'd made trouble at the orphanage, the teachers and supervisors always made such a fuss. Usually, Tom would've made just as much of a fuss, playing games and evading trouble only to frustrate the adults, and sooner or later, the head of the orphanage would be brought into the game. That was always when it got fun.
But after a while they'd learned of Tom's weakness. They'd turn their back, flinching only slightly at the disaster he caused and the complaints from other children. Eventually, he'd give up, and find something useful to do.
Tom cleared his throat, but to no avail.
After what must have been half an hour, the boy finally showed signs of life. He slammed his book closed and grinned. It was so startling that Tom nearly jumped in his seat.
"Not much of a talker, are you?" the boy inquired.
Tom shut his mouth when he found it'd been hanging open. "I suppose not," he answered quietly.
"Name?" the boy said as an officer of the royal navy would have asked for an inferior's name and rank.
"Tom Riddle."
"Sounds familiar. Do my parents know yours?"
"I doubt it," Tom answered with a bitter laugh.
The boy smiled incredulously at Tom's dry humor. Perhaps he'd thought him mute or socially timid, for he looked vaguely impressed. "Do you even know who I am?"
"No."
The boy held out a hand for Tom to shake, which he did so hesitantly, but the boy didn't mention his name.
A plump witch came around a little after noon with a trolley of sweets Tom had never heard of or seen before. The boy apparently had, for he shot up without any further thought to browse through the food.
His fingers glided along a few boxes, he delved through some wrapped candies, and searched around with an air of inspection. Finally, with nothing chosen, he patted his stomach and announced he'd had a big breakfast. The witch rolled away without question.
He stood for a few moments, leaning against the door with a face of concentration, which relaxed once the sound of trolley wheels had died away.
Grinning broadly, the boy dropped himself onto the seat, pulling a few boxes from his sleeve and tossing them towards Tom.
"Here, take these. Enjoy them, too – they cost me a fortune."
Tom smiled, deciding finally that he liked this boy.
"Simon Potter," he said finally. "Thought you might've known me because of my dad."
"Sorry?"
"My dad... Frank Potter – famous Auror?"
Tom's expression was vacant.
"Grindelwald? You know, that Dark wizard from Germany?"
Tom shook his head, shrugging. He opened one of the boxes Simon had tossed at him, his eyes widening when a large, chocolate-brown frog jumped out.
Instantly, Simon understood. "You're muggle-born, aren't you?" He sighed. "That would explain it."
Tom's spirits plummeted. He'd been hoping to have made a friend. "Half, I guess. My mum was... you know, magical and all that... but she died after I was born."
Simon whistled. "Sorry."
"Y – you don't mind that my dad's a muggle?"
"He might, but why should I? Don't even know the chap."
"Well, I thought that because I wasn't... pure – "
Much to his surprise, Simon laughed. "You must've been taking advice from the Slytherins. That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard. You can do magic, right?"
Tom shrugged.
"Well, if you can, then you're just as good as everyone else. Who told you that, anyway?"
"Artemus Black."
Simon smiled knowingly. "That would explain it. The Blacks are all like that. They give my dad hell when they see him, telling him it's a disgrace to stoop low enough to defend muggles. The stupid, arrogant – "
"Tom!"
The subject of exclamation turned towards the door to see who'd called his name. It was Alphard. Simon stifled a grin, shooting his eyes elsewhere – out the window, perhaps.
"We couldn't find you, so we sat up front. Come, you should meet some people."
"Some Slytherins, you mean," Simon intervened, his eyes following the passing trees.
"Possibly," Artemus spat, stepping in behind his brother.
Alphard smiled pleasantly. "You a first year also?"
Simon nodded, assuming Alphard was smiling because he didn't know why Artemus wasn't. "Simon Potter," he said in explanation.
Just as expected, Alphard's face fell, and Artemus gave him a good kick in the foot.
"Come on, Tom, let's leave." Artemus looked distastefully at Simon, who answered him smugly.
"Nothing wrong with me is there? My family's pure, no need to worry about it rubbing off. Tom and I were just talking about his background."
Artemus grimaced.
Alphard gave his brother a quieting look, and took control of the situation. "I see you have some extra chocolate frogs there."
Simon raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? What about them?"
Alphard shrugged. "Nothing."
Hell of a way to take control, Tom thought. Artemus pushed Alphard out of the way, and grabbed a chocolate frog. He opened it, and the enchanted candy jumped onto his face.
Simon sent a curse at the frog, and it melted all over Artemus's robes. Tom felt a thrill at seeing magic done in front of him.
"Sorry," Simon said, looking truly concerned. He grabbed another box, whispered something out of the side of his mouth, and handed it to Alphard, who passed it on warily. Artemus stuffed it in his mouth, finally heading for the door.
He turned around and faced Tom. He croaked.
Something caught Simon's interest beyond the window once again. Artemus whipped out his wand impressively, and croaked his incantation. Tom glanced between the two, one of them furious, the other feigning a short attention span.
Artemus quickly disappeared from the compartment. Alphard lingered for a moment, muttered a quick, "Good one", and fled after his younger brother.
Tom raised his eyebrows at Simon, who laughed and brought out the book he'd been studying earlier. It was a book of spells.
"You thought I came up with that on the spot?" Simon said. He grinned at his wand. "Oh no. Artemus Black was no coincidence. I've been waiting for this meeting as long as I can remember."
Tom nodded at the book. "Can I borrow that, you think?"
"Standard Book of Spells Grade One? You should have one." Simon laughed. "It was nothing extraordinary, just some simple curses. It goes way beyond that, believe me. This is only the beginning, Tom."
He took Simon's word for it, growing steadily more excited for what lay ahead.
~~~~~~~~~~
Reviews: Yay!
Duskrider Q: Well, to be quite honest, I may not be in touch with reality. For one thing, I'm only an itty-bitty freshman. But still, I thought I'd show that the Blacks were a little negligent and careless. I intended to have someone escort them to the station, though. But yeah, I guess Tom was a little out on a limb there.
Awkward: Ah... a Seer. I would write that, but it would be my third story with a Seer in it. I was actually going to have a Seer become head girl and a have a little romance, but then I realized I'm a horrible romance writer, and I'd rather avoid a Mary-Sue at all costs.
Miss Piratess: Yeah, Eleven-year-old Tom is pretty cute, isn't he? I'll try and fix that later. But right now, I think I'll have a little fun making him look stupid. Haha!
Nikki: No! Am I really a bitch? Please say I'm not. Well, as long as you like the story.
Miss W D Halliwell: Gah! You know I would read your stuff, but it's all slash! Oh well, thanks for reviewing! It's nice to think this is actually original.
Erin: *points* You! You?
Chapter Two: Of Friends and Foes
The wand was safe in his pocket, but Tom continued to grip it tightly. Glancing around, he remembered that Artemus and Alphard were still shopping.
As if pulled by an invisible thread, his head slowly turned to the right, and his eyes ventured down Knockturn Alley as far as they could reach.
Tom's grip on his wand grew tighter, and his heart sped up. It seemed as if the very blood in his veins was compelling him to take a step forward. Something inside of him belonged there, though he wasn't sure exactly what.
With the sensation of falling forward with each step, Tom Riddle plunged into the daunting shadow.
"Oy, Tom!"
Broken from his captivation, he turned his head around.
"What took you so long?"
The whisperings left his mind, and he was young Tom again. "Sorry... I, er, got lost."
Artemus stifled a laugh. "Just wait until you get to the school. You'll be hopeless." Alphard nudged him in the shoulder, and Artemus grinned sheepishly. "It's true."
"You haven't even been there, you idiot." Alphard, for once, showed his superiority both in age, height, and wisdom, which must have been a rare thing, for Artemus submissively hushed, whether in due respect or mere surprise.
"What's next, then?" Tom asked eagerly.
The two brothers were somewhat amused. "School, of course. Didn't you notice it was the day we were meant to leave?"
"No one told me, and besides, what are you doing shopping at the last minute?"
"Our parents decided to kill two birds with one stone. They don't like using muggle cars much. Embarrassed, I think."
Alphard nodded. "But that's the price they pay with having children that can't Apparate."
"Yet," Artemus cut in, showing clear annoyance.
"Oh," Tom said uneasily.
Artemus scowled and muttered, "Clearly, we're going to be showing this bloke around quite a bit."
Alphard smiled good-naturedly, in deep contrast with the shorter version next to him. "Arty's only jealous he won't be the one receiving the special treatment this year."
~~~~~~~~~~
Tom didn't quite know what he'd expected – but he knew it was definitely something more than just his everyday King's Cross Station. He'd been here once before, and there hadn't seemed to be anything special about it then, nor was there now.
Apart from finding seemingly nonexistent platforms, running through walls carrying owls while dodging suspicious glances, and boarding an enormous train that headed in no cardinal direction in particular, nothing of real importance happened.
Or at least, that's how the other students described it. Tom, however, couldn't quite take it all in without catching himself a little dizzy once in a while.
"You kids get back here," Mrs. Black snapped. Tom jumped. "You can go ahead," Alphard whispered. Tom did so, and upon reaching the train, he glanced back to see the two of them being scolded for things like not standing straight and nearly bumping into important witches and wizards.
He stepped onto the train and suddenly felt awfully short. A few people who seemed to be in their seventh year were squeezing past him. He poked his head into each of the compartments finding them full of either fourth years playing some seemingly messy game involving marbles, a mob of gossiping, giggling girls, a small group of students that sat still like cardboard, each bearing a prefect's badge, or a full compartment of small first years like himself that were sorry to say there was no room.
Tom settled on a nearly empty compartment in the very back. The only occupant was a boy near, if not exactly his age with dark hair and glasses.
Tom considered the lone figure, concluded it was safe, and sat down across from him, with hope that he wouldn't disturb him. The boy seemed to be enthralled in whatever he was reading.
Tom sat still, frequently glancing at the silent boy to see if he'd noticed him sit down, but judging by his unflinching expression of vague interest in what he was reading, it didn't seem likely.
Finally, when the students felt the jolt and gentle roll of the train beginning to move, the dark haired boy looked up, out the window, and back to his book.
Tom frowned. Lack of attention always made him uneasy. Every time he'd made trouble at the orphanage, the teachers and supervisors always made such a fuss. Usually, Tom would've made just as much of a fuss, playing games and evading trouble only to frustrate the adults, and sooner or later, the head of the orphanage would be brought into the game. That was always when it got fun.
But after a while they'd learned of Tom's weakness. They'd turn their back, flinching only slightly at the disaster he caused and the complaints from other children. Eventually, he'd give up, and find something useful to do.
Tom cleared his throat, but to no avail.
After what must have been half an hour, the boy finally showed signs of life. He slammed his book closed and grinned. It was so startling that Tom nearly jumped in his seat.
"Not much of a talker, are you?" the boy inquired.
Tom shut his mouth when he found it'd been hanging open. "I suppose not," he answered quietly.
"Name?" the boy said as an officer of the royal navy would have asked for an inferior's name and rank.
"Tom Riddle."
"Sounds familiar. Do my parents know yours?"
"I doubt it," Tom answered with a bitter laugh.
The boy smiled incredulously at Tom's dry humor. Perhaps he'd thought him mute or socially timid, for he looked vaguely impressed. "Do you even know who I am?"
"No."
The boy held out a hand for Tom to shake, which he did so hesitantly, but the boy didn't mention his name.
A plump witch came around a little after noon with a trolley of sweets Tom had never heard of or seen before. The boy apparently had, for he shot up without any further thought to browse through the food.
His fingers glided along a few boxes, he delved through some wrapped candies, and searched around with an air of inspection. Finally, with nothing chosen, he patted his stomach and announced he'd had a big breakfast. The witch rolled away without question.
He stood for a few moments, leaning against the door with a face of concentration, which relaxed once the sound of trolley wheels had died away.
Grinning broadly, the boy dropped himself onto the seat, pulling a few boxes from his sleeve and tossing them towards Tom.
"Here, take these. Enjoy them, too – they cost me a fortune."
Tom smiled, deciding finally that he liked this boy.
"Simon Potter," he said finally. "Thought you might've known me because of my dad."
"Sorry?"
"My dad... Frank Potter – famous Auror?"
Tom's expression was vacant.
"Grindelwald? You know, that Dark wizard from Germany?"
Tom shook his head, shrugging. He opened one of the boxes Simon had tossed at him, his eyes widening when a large, chocolate-brown frog jumped out.
Instantly, Simon understood. "You're muggle-born, aren't you?" He sighed. "That would explain it."
Tom's spirits plummeted. He'd been hoping to have made a friend. "Half, I guess. My mum was... you know, magical and all that... but she died after I was born."
Simon whistled. "Sorry."
"Y – you don't mind that my dad's a muggle?"
"He might, but why should I? Don't even know the chap."
"Well, I thought that because I wasn't... pure – "
Much to his surprise, Simon laughed. "You must've been taking advice from the Slytherins. That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard. You can do magic, right?"
Tom shrugged.
"Well, if you can, then you're just as good as everyone else. Who told you that, anyway?"
"Artemus Black."
Simon smiled knowingly. "That would explain it. The Blacks are all like that. They give my dad hell when they see him, telling him it's a disgrace to stoop low enough to defend muggles. The stupid, arrogant – "
"Tom!"
The subject of exclamation turned towards the door to see who'd called his name. It was Alphard. Simon stifled a grin, shooting his eyes elsewhere – out the window, perhaps.
"We couldn't find you, so we sat up front. Come, you should meet some people."
"Some Slytherins, you mean," Simon intervened, his eyes following the passing trees.
"Possibly," Artemus spat, stepping in behind his brother.
Alphard smiled pleasantly. "You a first year also?"
Simon nodded, assuming Alphard was smiling because he didn't know why Artemus wasn't. "Simon Potter," he said in explanation.
Just as expected, Alphard's face fell, and Artemus gave him a good kick in the foot.
"Come on, Tom, let's leave." Artemus looked distastefully at Simon, who answered him smugly.
"Nothing wrong with me is there? My family's pure, no need to worry about it rubbing off. Tom and I were just talking about his background."
Artemus grimaced.
Alphard gave his brother a quieting look, and took control of the situation. "I see you have some extra chocolate frogs there."
Simon raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? What about them?"
Alphard shrugged. "Nothing."
Hell of a way to take control, Tom thought. Artemus pushed Alphard out of the way, and grabbed a chocolate frog. He opened it, and the enchanted candy jumped onto his face.
Simon sent a curse at the frog, and it melted all over Artemus's robes. Tom felt a thrill at seeing magic done in front of him.
"Sorry," Simon said, looking truly concerned. He grabbed another box, whispered something out of the side of his mouth, and handed it to Alphard, who passed it on warily. Artemus stuffed it in his mouth, finally heading for the door.
He turned around and faced Tom. He croaked.
Something caught Simon's interest beyond the window once again. Artemus whipped out his wand impressively, and croaked his incantation. Tom glanced between the two, one of them furious, the other feigning a short attention span.
Artemus quickly disappeared from the compartment. Alphard lingered for a moment, muttered a quick, "Good one", and fled after his younger brother.
Tom raised his eyebrows at Simon, who laughed and brought out the book he'd been studying earlier. It was a book of spells.
"You thought I came up with that on the spot?" Simon said. He grinned at his wand. "Oh no. Artemus Black was no coincidence. I've been waiting for this meeting as long as I can remember."
Tom nodded at the book. "Can I borrow that, you think?"
"Standard Book of Spells Grade One? You should have one." Simon laughed. "It was nothing extraordinary, just some simple curses. It goes way beyond that, believe me. This is only the beginning, Tom."
He took Simon's word for it, growing steadily more excited for what lay ahead.
~~~~~~~~~~
Reviews: Yay!
Duskrider Q: Well, to be quite honest, I may not be in touch with reality. For one thing, I'm only an itty-bitty freshman. But still, I thought I'd show that the Blacks were a little negligent and careless. I intended to have someone escort them to the station, though. But yeah, I guess Tom was a little out on a limb there.
Awkward: Ah... a Seer. I would write that, but it would be my third story with a Seer in it. I was actually going to have a Seer become head girl and a have a little romance, but then I realized I'm a horrible romance writer, and I'd rather avoid a Mary-Sue at all costs.
Miss Piratess: Yeah, Eleven-year-old Tom is pretty cute, isn't he? I'll try and fix that later. But right now, I think I'll have a little fun making him look stupid. Haha!
Nikki: No! Am I really a bitch? Please say I'm not. Well, as long as you like the story.
Miss W D Halliwell: Gah! You know I would read your stuff, but it's all slash! Oh well, thanks for reviewing! It's nice to think this is actually original.
Erin: *points* You! You?