The Tale of Tom
Chapter Ten: Visitors
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"Boy! Hurry up, there. I don't pay you to dilly-daddle!"
Tom sighed to himself. "Yes, Ma'am!" he yelled back, doing the best to keep his voice friendly.
Tom felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. Why is it so hot today? his thoughts pleaded. Garden work seemed to be the only work that Tom could seize and the fates seemed to make sure it was miserably hot on those days.
It was one week till the end of summer and Tom had been working almost non-stop after figuring out that the wand would cost at least 15 pounds. If the elderly lady he was working for today paid the promised amount he would have exactly the necessary amount. Tom knew it was only an average, but somehow he felt that if he waited any longer he would be going to Hogwart's without a wand and that, certainly, would be bad.
With a loud thump, Tom fell backwards with the stubborn weed still in his hand. "Boy, you better not be messing up my lawn!" Somehow the old lady seemed to have never learned Tom's name.
"I'm not. Ma'am," he quickly added. He had long ago learned that if you showed people respect that you did not believe they deserved, they would buy it. It came in handy when collecting payment.
Tom did a quick scan of the garden. Everything seemed to be in order. He smoothed out some of the wet dirt (he had watered earlier) and plucked a dead leaf off one of the rose bushes. Sighing, he grabbed the bag of weeds he had pulled up. At least he was finally finished working not only this lady, but the summer, too.
Walking up to the screen door, he saw the woman watching him and made sure to make a point of delicately wiping his feet on the mat. "I'm finished, ma'am."
"Good," she crowed. "Let me see. And throw those weeds in the dustbin by the street." Tom mutely nodded and went out to the curb while the lady, Tom had never bothered to learn her name either, inspected the garden with a sour look on her face.
"It looks....okay." He made sure to keep a neutral expression on his face. "Not great, but okay." Tom had a feeling she didn't want to hand out any compliments. "I'll grab my purse. You wait here." Tom obediently waited, wondering if there were different types of wands, and if so, what type he would get. "Here you go, boy. For three days of work, you get two pounds. I think that's awfully generous," she finished, smiling.
"Yes, ma'am. Very. Thank you." Tom smiled in spite of himself. He now had an extra pound. It turned out the lady wasn't as stingy as he thought.
Tom delicately folded the two pounds and placed them in his pocket as he headed toward his bicycle. He set off pedaling and didn't glance at the houses he had worked at so diligently over the last three weeks. He didn't really believe in looking back, either literally or physically.
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Tom arrived at the orphanage a half hour later. He had learned that if he wanted to be paid well he had to go to the wealthier neighborhoods. The orphanage was by no means in even a semi-wealthy neighborhood.
Tom went to his room, well not so much his room as the orphanage's room, and sat down on "his" bed. The clock informed him that it was one o'clock. Tom scowled as he realized that he'd missed lunch; not that he cared. He wasn't that hungry.
Lying back on the bed, Tom started to wonder what would happen when he went to get his wand and what the store would be like. Would there be the possibility to meet any fellow Hogwart's students? He thought longingly of the tomorrow when he would finally go back to Diagon Alley. Why am I waiting until tomorrow? Tom suddenly thought to himself. Why couldn't he go today? Or right now? Tom leapt up. To think, that he could be a mere hour away from getting a wand and being embraced into the wizarding world. Checking the calendar, he saw that today was neither a Saturday, nor a Sunday, meaning that he could be let into Diagon Alley.
Tom brushed his sweaty fringe out of his eyes, suddenly feeling a new burst of energy. Quickly locking the door, he opened his trunk and buried to the bottom, where the small amount of money he had was kept. He attempted to smooth out the crumpled bills, but gave up and simply stuffed them in his pocket. Tom quickly threw everything back in the trunk, figuring that there would be time later to organize it.
"Miss O'Flannery?" he said, opening the door and hastily shoving his now-closed trunk beneath the bed. Tom searched through several rooms until he found her in the nursery. "Can—may I go down to the group of...stores?" Tom felt that he shouldn't be too specific, lest other children were listening.
"Tomorrow," she said, not looking up.
"What?" Tom said feeling all of the new-found energy draining out of him. "Why?"
"Because we have a very nice couple coming over in the evening." Tom frowned. He hated whenever somebody came over to adopt. Many times they didn't adopt and the few times they did, they only adopted babies. Truthfully, he was unsure why nobody had adopted him as a baby. He wondered if it was his aura or simply his rotten luck. The thing he hated most about people visiting was the false hope it gave, and the fake, cheery atmosphere that seemed to appear in sync with the couple's arrival. Tom regretfully felt his good mood shatter, wishing he could've held on to it a bit longer. "Remember to wear your best clothes!" Miss O'Flannery called out to him as he stalked back to his room.
Tom almost slammed the door as he entered the room but thought better of it. No need to ruin their perfect mood, he thought bitterly. One plus side of it, was that Tom knew he would be left in peace while the younger orphans scurried to each other in excitement.
Making sure the coast was clear, Tom pulled out his trunk and buried the pound notes at the bottom. Why do I even have to be here when they come? I know they won't adopt me, Tom thought to himself, shoving the trunk beneath his bed. He was currently loathing the small voice in his head that kept saying But what if they do? Won't it be grand?
Tom flopped onto his bed staring at the not-so-scenic wood of the bed above him. I wonder how long I have until they come, he thought, closing his eyes. Maybe I have time for just a quick nap....
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"Tom! Quick, wake up!"
"Huh? What's going on?" Tom said, not quite awake.
"They're here! Come on!" Tom sat up in time to see Henry tear out of the room.
He yawned and slowly walked out of his room. Tom wasn't too concerned about making a good first impression; his age already prevented that.
"...And this is Henry. He's very well behaved, not to mention intelligent," Tom heard Miss O'Flannery, exaggerating the orphan's good qualities, as always. "Oh, yes, this is Tom. Tom, this is Mr. and Mrs. Owens," she said, gesturing toward the couple standing a couple of feet away. "They're thinking of adopting, isn't that wonderful?" Tom forced an uneasy smile and nodded.
"Hello, Tom," Mrs. Owen said cautiously.
"Hello, Ma'am," Tom replied, giving a slight nod of the head. Miss O'Flannery beamed. It's not like I don't have manners, Tom thought to himself.
"Tom is currently our oldest occupant at the orphanage," Miss O'Flannery started listing Tom's good traits. Don't mention my eyes, don't mention my eyes, don't mention my eyes, Tom silently thought to himself. "And he has the prettiest eyes." AARRGGHH.
Tom resisted the urge to bat away her hand as she held up his fringe. He tried to force a smile but it came out more as a grimace. Aw, well. Close enough, he thought, as Miss O'Flannery led the happy couple to the nursery.
Henry, Chester, and Robert immediately started talking about the couple that would hopefully be their parents.
"Hello, Tom," Rose said, wandering over to him.
"Hi."
Both of them stayed silent for a moment.
"Something on your mind?" Tom said, looking at Rose.
"They rub me the wrong way," she said quietly, shifting her weight.
"Oh?" Tom said, a bit surprised that Rose was not taking to the couple, yet at the same time happy she was thinking for herself.
"They...they somehow seem...fake" Rose said, struggling for worlds.
"I can see that," Tom said, not really understanding.
"Shame we have to be so polite, still," she said with a slight smile. "I'm not as good at hiding my emotions as you."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Tom said, smiling.
"That's true. There are times it's good to be able to hide your emotions and there are times where it's good to show your emotions." Tom nodded, slightly surprised at how deep that statement was.
Miss O'Flannery finally returned from the nursery, smiling. She was always excited when a hopeful adopter came over.
"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Normally she attempted to prolong people's visits, also.
"No thank you, although we will probably come back later," the voice of Mrs. Owens drifted from the nearby exit.
"We just wanted to stop by quickly," Mr. Owen said in his gruff voice. "Come back in a couple weeks, for a bit longer," he continued.
"Please do," came Miss O'Flannery's voice.
Tom heard the door close and his own sigh of relief.
"We can all breath easier now, eh Tom?" Rose said, looking in his direction.
Tom simply smiled a weak smile, his mind elsewhere. Something was stirring. A memory just beyond his grasp. What was he forgetting? Tom knew it'd annoy him until he remembered, though somehow he doubted he ever would.
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The mist was so thick, thick enough he had to fight his way through it. It was blinding him, forcing its way down his lungs like some noxious gas.
He heard giggling, and for once, saw the damp grass beneath his bare feet. What was that fairy tale? he thought. Something to do with a ring of mushrooms, and faeries.
His goal was even closer now. He could feel it in his bones. What was that sound? It sounded like singing. The words were so melodious. He could barely make them out, but it didn't matter, the unknown goal was even closer.
What was this feeling? It felt as though he was being pulled upward, away from his goal. He attempted to pull himself closer, but to no avail. So close.... But he couldn't stop. His goal was getting further and further away. The words though, he could almost make out the words. What were they? So close. So far. Another night. Another fight.
But it was too late. He couldn't make out anymore. Because he was going upward. Up and up.
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Tom woke up. What was I dreaming? he thought. Another thing just out of my grasp, I guess. He turned over and attempted to fluff up his pillow. I'll think about it another night, he thought, drifting off to sleep again.
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Disclaimer: Still don't own Tom Riddle or Harry Potter. Shame, I know.
A/N: Sorry for such a long wait. I decided to give up on perfect format and use this style instead. Hence why this chapter is not in HTML. Also, anybody remember how Tom said Miss O'Flannery was always showing off his eyes? Anyway, please review!!
