Diagon Alley
Tom hurried from the tram stop, darting along the crowded streets of muggle London before slowing as he approached Charing Cross Road. The Leaky Cauldron lay partway down this road, sandwiched between a book shop and a record store, invisible to all but magical folk. As always, the thought of leaving the mundane Muggle world behind him and entering the magical one set Tom's heart racing.
Performing magic during the holidays was prohibited to Hogwarts students,but once he was in the Wizarding world Tom would be able to use his wand. It wouldn't be for anything major, nothing to draw attention to him, but a minor charm or two would go unnoticed. What should he do first?
A cooling charm sprang to mind. After the previous evening's rain, the day had dawned fine and was growing hotter and hotter by the minute. It was far too hot for the suit he wore, but Tom was always careful to dress like a high-in-the-instep Pureblood Wizard. He put his hand in his jacket pocket and jingled the few sickles and knuts he'd left over from last year's bursary. It wouldn't be long now before this year's Hogwarts letter came, along with a new list of supplies for the fifth year and the money to buy them. If he was careful these sickles and knuts would cover the purchase of a magic book or two from one of the many second-hand dealers who traded in the Alley and also buy him a decent meal.
Perhaps he'd meet some of his fellow Slytherins here? Tom's hand automatically smoothed the front of his tailored jacket down. One acquired thanks to his peers urge to curry favour with the Slytherin heir.
'Put it on my tab, Tom. The pleasure is all mine.' Clothes, robes, books, charmed trinkets, and school supplies came his way. Pureblood idiots with pockets overflowing with galleons. Money and bloodlines that should have been his. Tom felt a stab of jealousy. Resolutely he pushed the old anger away, reminding himself that with each passing year he was gaining power. Unlike the old Pureblood families who sat in their vast estates thinking of past glories, his plans would take the Wizarding and Muggle worlds by storm.
He slowed his steps as he came to the bookshop and lingered, letting several muggle shoppers wander past before heading for the pub's door. He passed through the bar area, pushing his way past gossiping witches and wizards, heading straight to the rear and out into the courtyard. There, next to the rubbish bin, he joined an elderly witch in an extra-large purple hat and a dark cloak.
"Hello, dear," she said politely. "Is it time for school supplies already?"
"I'm meeting friends," Tom replied with a charming smile. All the time, he was thinking 'nosey old bat, come on, come on. Open up the ruddy wall.'
"That's nice. Have fun." She leaned forward to tap the correct brick, and he watched, trembling with excitement as the hole grew to reveal the archway that led through to Diagon Alley.
Since he'd wanted to avoid the irritating American chit and missed breakfast, the first place Tom headed for was a cafe. As he waited for the waitress Tom thought over all the ways Buffy had annoyed him. She'd treated him as an imbecile, belittled Hogwarts and then, her greatest crime to-date in his eyes, she'd used all the hot water in the cistern and he had to bathe in lukewarm water. If she'd stuck to the Muggle ministry guidelines of five inches of bathwater there'd have been plenty left for him. Despite being told not to use more, she'd broken the rules and taken a long soak in an over-filled hot bath.
"Selfish bint," he muttered.
"What's that?" asked a sharp-eared young waitress.
"I'm sorry, not you." A practised smile came to his lips, one that most females fell for.
"Is it a sister or your girlfriend who's giving you trouble?" she asked as she placed the steaming plate of bacon, tomatoes, baked beans, and scrambled eggs down onto the table in front of him.
To his embarrassment, Tom heard his stomach rumble loudly when the aroma hit his nose. "Er, neither."
She laughed, and after bringing over a plate of hot buttered toast and a teapot to his table seemed inclined to linger. Thankfully, he was saved from her company by the arrival of Abraxas Malfoy. The blonde dragged out a chair without asking and threw himself down into it.
"Morning, Riddle! I was on my way to Quality Quidditch when I spotted you sat here." Malfoy glanced at the waitress waiting to take his order. "I'll have the same as Riddle. Put both our meals onto the Malfoy account." He turned a lazy smile onto Riddle. "I say we let father pay for our fun today. He's up at the Ministry trying to find out more on the Grindelwald attack. I told him I'd look for school supplies then I'm not jostling with the unwashed later on." He smirked and winked, "As long as we don't buy a Nimbus 1,000 each, he'll not question the bill."
"Where was it?" Tom asked, wondering whereabouts Grindelwald's wizards had hit. He'd didn't subscribe to the Daily Prophet so he'd no idea if the information was available to everyone or the Ministry was keeping the attack hush-hush whilst they conducted the investigation.
His mind on broomsticks, Malfoy replied, "It's in Quality Quidditch Supplies. I came down last week and they were just putting it in the window. I've got my eye on it as a present for the start of Hogwarts-"
"You'll be lucky," a third voice interrupted. "There's a four to eight week waiting list for the Nimbus 1,000."
Tom looked up to see a fellow student, Victor Avery standing by his chair.
"Good to see you Riddle, Malfoy. Mind if I take a seat?" asked the boy politely.
At Tom's nod, he took a seat and ordered himself a tea.
"Where was the attack?" Tom tried again. At fifteen Malfoy had two great passions in life, Quidditch and young witches, everything else was an afterthought.
"In some Muggle place in London," replied Malfoy around mouthfuls. "There's nothing in the Prophet yet as the Catastrophes team are still dealing with it. They went in obliviating Muggles left, right, and centre from what I heard." He smirked, "They used the unexploded bomb excuse again to cover up the damage."
"I'd like a full report of this incident," said Tom, he'd almost finished his food and was trying not to watch Malfoy eating, knowing it would put him off. "Names of those involved, where, why, when, the usual. I want to know what Grindelwald is up to." He wondered if this was the incident Buffy had been caught up in. Had a Ministry official been over-zealous with an Obliviation spell and that's why she'd lost her memory?
"Consider it done," replied Malfoy, chewed eggs churning around in his mouth. "I'll sneak into father's study and use a Gemino charm to duplicate any documents. He's always forgetting to lock his desk - the things I've found in there!" Malfoy guffawed loudly, making Tom wince. From the corner of his eye, he could see Malfoy looking at him and Avery expectantly, hoping he'd ask what sort of things Noxian Malfoy kept in his study.
Instead, Tom turned to Avery, who although another Pureblood was more intelligent than Malfoy. "Where's the best place to buy pests?"
"The Magical Menagerie," interjected Malfoy as he shoved baked beans into his mouth."You thinking of... buying a familiar, Riddle?" He swallowed. "What are you thinking of? A kneazle? A raven? Getting an owl, perhaps?"
"Riddle said pests, not pets," corrected Avery. He pushed his cup and saucer into the middle of the table and sat back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "I suppose it depends on what sort of pest you're after. If I had an idea what you want this pest for?"
"Muggle-baiting." Tom took a bite out his last slice of toast, enjoying the salty taste of butter on his tongue and imagined Buffy tucking into her vile tasting Muggle bread and margarine.
"There's a muggle who's moved into where I live," he rarely if ever mentioned the word orphanage to anyone at Hogwarts, "she's very annoying and I want her out. Since magic is out of bounds to me I thought a pest might do the trick."
Avery half-closed his eyes, smiled, and steepled his fingers beneath his chin as he considered the options. "What about a ghoul? The ministry often have to clear ghouls out of Muggle dwellings. Put it in her bathroom and if it attacks her she might die of fright in the bath."
"How old is she?" Abraxas asked suddenly. He'd been gazing out the window, watching the crowds of passing wizards and witches.
Tom frowned, wondering what had caught Malfoy's interest. "Fifteen. Is there a reason for this question?"
Abraxas stirred his tea, clockwise, making sure he didn't rattle the spoon against the cup's sides. "Is she pretty?"
Avery and Tom slanted a knowing glance at each other. Abraxas had discovered girls in the fourth year and ever since done nothing but discuss them.
Riddle sighed, thanking Merlin that his own brain didn't reside in his trousers. "I suppose she isn't offensive to the eye. She is small, blonde, American, opinionated, and extremely annoying." He didn't mention that she'd used all the hot water as they wouldn't be able to understand. A wizard's house never ran out of hot water, a fast working heating charm saw to that. "Enough detail for you, Malfoy?"
Abraxas grinned, sleazily. Putting his arms behind his head, he leaned right back in his chair and regarded Tom through hooded lids. "Ho, ho. I get the reason for your sudden interest in muggle-baiting. You want her to come running into your bedroom in the middle of the night, diving under the sheets beside you, and begging you to save her from the scary monsters. Good one, Riddle," he chortled. "Nice to see you've decided to play the field, chuck a few bludgers around so to speak."
The temperature at the table grew several degrees cooler. "She's a Muggle!" Tom hissed.
Avery shot a warning look at Malfoy, but the pale blonde was too wrapped up in his own daydreams to heed it. "Some Muggles are pretty. I've seen a few that I wouldn't mind – Ouch!"
A jelly-legs charm hit and Malfoy quietly muttered the counter-charm. "What? What have I said?"
"Never suggest that I might..." Tom was so angry he could hardly get his words out, "...fraternise... with a female muggle. The thought is utterly repellent to me." Unfortunately, the image of Buffy leaning over her desk to look out the window came into his mind. He'd noticed how pert and round her... NO! He forced the image away, reminding himself again that she'd stolen his hot water and insulted his intelligence, letting anger burn away hormonal wayward thoughts.
"I know where we could buy a boggart from," Avery said, changing the subject back to the original one. "They're common enough not to raise suspicion like a ghoul might do. If we put a temporary Silencing charm on it, that will give you time to get it home and plant it somewhere. Put it somewhere dark, under her bed, in her dressing table, or a wardrobe. No one will suspect you as they migrate from dark place to dark place on their own."
"Are muggles able to see boggarts?" Tom asked doubtfully. Although he lived with Muggles, Avery was the one taking Muggle Studies and knew how the Magical world affected them.
Avery's smile became positively wicked. "There's been several cases where more sensitive Muggles are able to see boggarts."
"I don't think this one knows the meaning of the word sensitive," replied Tom, thinking of how brazenly Buffy acted. "She's a horror."
"Even a stubborn Muggle will hear it scratching and breathing in the dark. She'll lie awake listening to it, not daring to move for fear of it attacking her," Avery smiled darkly. "Without magic there's no way she'll ever be able to remove it from her room. She will be packing her bags in no time."
Tom smiled darkly. Oh, he might not be allowed to do magic at the orphanage, but no one should underestimate Tom Marvolo Riddle's thirst for revenge. He'd get her back for insinuating that he suffered from learning difficulties and then using all his hot water. The thought of a terrified Buffy, lying awake all night listening to something scratching in the cupboard, was a very pleasant one.
"A boggart will do nicely," he said, his smile all teeth. "Where's the best place to buy it?"
"There's this street dealer in Knockturn Alley. He removes pests, sells doxy-spray and so on. If we ask him I'm sure he'll have one within a few hours."
Tom threw his napkin down on the table and stood. "The sooner the better than."
The other boys quickly followed suit. Malfoy rubbing his legs as he trailed behind them into the bright sunshine and bustling crowds of Diagon Alley.