Tom Riddle In Diagon Alley Part II

Wool's Orphanage-

"TOM!"

Unaware that anyone was close by, Tom almost jumped out of his skin. The box containing the boggart slid from his grasp and only sharp reflexes had him catching it before it hit the floor of the corridor. With his heart racing at how close he'd just come to being caught red-handed, Tom turned, one hand holding the parcel behind his back as he looked over to the caller.

Buffy was hurrying up the stairs towards him. She still wore the same clothes as she'd done the previous day, but she'd ditched the huge white bow and now wore her hair tied in a ponytail on top of her head. A few delicate blonde tendrils trailed down to frame her panic-stricken face.

"I need your help," she said.

Tom shuffled the box further around his body to keep it out of sight. After coming back from Diagon Alley he'd taken his new books to his room and on seeing that Buffy's room empty had just been about to plant the boggart. He'd come very close to being caught in her room, another minute or so later, and she'd have found him.

"You want me to help you?" he repeated, his mind still on the boggart.

"Yes! You've gotta help me!" Buffy came to a stop in front of him. "Get your books out and tell her you've asked me to help with your homework or something."

"What?" Why would he ask a stupid Muggle to help with his homework? What was going on? Without further ado, Buffy grabbed his wrist and began tugging him towards the stairs. Merlin, she was strong! Tom dug his heels in, fighting to regain control of his arm and shake her off. "What the hell! Are you part troll?"

She stopped and turned on him. "Troll? Did you just call me a TROLL!" Despite her petite size she suddenly appeared to have grown in stature and appeared far more dangerous than she had before. Her green eyes flashed with anger and he could feel darkness crackling around her like a thunderstorm. He decided that she was more like a prickly hypogriff than a troll.

Tom took a step back and quickly assumed an apologetic face. "I'm sorry. It's just an expression for someone who is much stronger than they look." Damn, he was good at thinking up excuses if he said so himself. He smiled his most ingratiating smile, saying sweetly, "You are far too pretty to be a troll."

Buffy's fingers tightened around his wrist and the air pricked with danger until, suddenly, it didn't. She smiled up at him; showing a lot of teeth.

Tom thought there was something suspiciously about that smile. It appeared that Buffy had a devious streak of her own, he needed to be aware of it, especially if she was mental.

He cleared his throat and tried to appear interested, "If you'd explain what it is you want of me, then I shall do my best to help you." As long as it didn't put him out.

The boggart in a box was still behind his back. Luckily, he hadn't dropped it and Buffy hadn't noticed him hiding it.

"It's Martha," she said and waited for his response.

Had she got on Martha's bad side? The woman was nothing like the vindictive Mrs Cole, at least Martha cared about her charges and didn't have her favourites and those she used as whipping-boys."And what about Martha?"

Buffy took a deep breath and said in a rush, "She keeps asking me about people like Clark Kent and Carole Lombard. I don't know what to say."

Tom frowned, perplexed by the comment. "Do you mean Clark Gable?" he eventually asked. He didn't know a lot about Muggle film stars, but he'd seen the man's name up in lights outside the Majestic Picture House.

"See! You know more about them than me! Give me the intel on them so I know the sitch."

"Stich? Intel?"

Buffy clicked her tongue, as if exasperated. "You know, intel, intelligence, sitch as in situation. Mrs Cole told me that you were too sharp for your own good and I should watch out for you but, honestly, Tom I'm not seeing it. Try to keep up."

Tom closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. He really wanted to use his wand and hex her for the slurs on his intelligence. He wouldn't be able to get away with it; the Ministry would know, his wand would be snapped, and then he'd be expelled. Tom tried to calm himself with the knowledge that he currently held in his hand the means for revenge and the beauty of it was no one would hold him responsible.

When he opened his eyes, he found that she'd stepped closer to him. Buffy was so close that he could see each individual brown speckle in her irises. Eyes which he'd thought were green were actually hazel.

"Soooo?" she drawled.

"Buffy, I have no idea what you are talking about," he said slowly. The girl was mental. Had she been dropped on her head as a baby?

"Martha is following me around asking me about Clark..." she hesitated, obviously having forgotten the name already.

"Gable," he prompted.

"Yeah, Clark Gable. She wants to know all about his relationship with Carole and if I'd met them."

"Carole Lombard is dead. She died in a plane crash this year," Tom replied. The only reason he knew was because he'd heard Mrs Cole talking to Martha about it. He frowned, "What have those movie stars got to do with you?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Tom! I''m American and from California. Martha thinks it means I lived in Hollywood and rubbed shoulders with movie stars. I've told her that I've got amnesia and, even if I'd met them, I wouldn't remember it. She's been following me around all day, asking if my memory has come back and if I go back would I send her autographs. It was sort of funny at first, but now it's stressing me out."

"And what exactly do you want me to do about this?" That was the part he couldn't figure out. He hated Muggle movies, not that he'd seen that many. Trips to the pictures for orphans were few and far between.

"Ah," said Buffy, her gaze narrowed on him speculatively.

"I'm not going on a date with you to the pictures, if that's what you're thinking." It was best to get that absurd idea out of her head as fast as possible.

She snorted in an unladylike way and curled her lip in distaste. "As if! Tall, dark, and broody so isn't my type!"

Tom felt annoyed. Why did he feel as if she'd just given him a knock-back? Not her type? She was a Muggle. She should look at him and know he was far above her, not dismiss him as not her type. And what the Hell did 'as if' mean?

"I want you to lend me some books and then tell everyone I'm a bookworm who never went to the movies. That I must have been the type who spent all her spare time in the library and would be best friends with the librarian..." She broke off, a glazed look coming over her face.

Tom watched her. "Have you remembered something? What is it?" Despite him being annoyed with her, his interest peaked and he wondered again if the Aurors had obliviated her.

Her face sharpened as she came back to the present. "I just remembered what my old library was like back in Sunnyhell... Um, or maybe, Hemery. Yeah, it must have been Hemery High. I never went to Sunnydale High." She gave herself a little shake. "Where was I? Umm, yeah, I need you to tell Martha that I'm a book worm and... can I borrow your school books?

No!" All Hogwarts magic books were charmed so that Muggles weren't able to read them. Not that he'd any intention of showing her his school books, but the thought of a confused Buffy pawing through them almost made him laugh. To get rid of her, he added, "There are a lot of books in one of the store cupboards downstairs. Go back down and I'll dig out a couple of interesting ones for you." When she didn't move, he went on, "I'll meet you down there shortly. I need to do something first in the bathroom."

Her hazel eyes widened, and she looked taken aback. He regarded her blankly before realising what she must be thinking and felt himself reddening. "I'm washing my hands and face! Go downstairs and I'll meet you in the playroom." He put a hand on her shoulder, turned her gently around, and gave her a little push towards the stairs.

It was only when her head disappeared from sight, that he realised he'd voluntarily laid hands on a Muggle and it hadn't felt as repulsive as when he'd touched the other orphans. He gave a mental shrug and moved the boggart-in-a-box up to eye level. In twenty-four hours the Silencing charm would cease to work and charmed box would open to release the boggart. He planned to put it-.

TOM!" called Buffy from the stairway, almost giving him a heart attack. He spun around, hiding the boggart behind him and was relieved to see she was out of sight. Good, she hadn't seen the box.

"Yes?" He called back.

"Those books you're gonna find me. Can you make sure they're interesting ones?" There was a pause. "I don't want anything on ancient Sumerian prophecies or demon worship in fourteenth century Romania."

She was definitely an odd girl if she thought that type of thing was normal reading matter. "I'll make sure they are appropriate," he called back. If she didn't find them interesting, that would be her problem and not his.

He sighed, and headed back to his room. Once there, he pushed the boggart box under his bed so that it was well out of sight. It wasn't worth going into her room until he was absolutely certain she was definitely busy elsewhere in the orphanage. Otherwise, she'd spring out at him again when he was least expecting it. She was like a dratted boggart herself.