July 25, 1938
Tom thought that it was lucky that he had such a good memory. Over his and Harry's various escapades into London, away from the watching eyes of either Martha or an older orphan, they had managed to traverse much of the city. Although they had both heard of it, it was lucky that Tom remembered seeing a Charing Cross road a few times that they had ventured beyond the immediate location of the orphanage. If his memory served him right – and it had never failed so far – they would be able to locate the road after perhaps an hour's walk. Hopefully the road was not very long; it would be terrible to walk all that way just to reach it only to have to continue for an even longer distance.
Tom and Harry hadn't explored much of London on the other side of the Thames, preferring to stay closer to home. There was something about the barrier of a river, bridges as the only crossings, that made both Tom and Harry nervous. Still, Tom kept going over his memories for a glimpse of The Leaky Cauldron, as the professor had said.
"Dove, do you remember seeing a large amount of magic located in one building? I'm trying to remember if I saw any place called The Leaky Cauldron but so far, I'm without luck."
Harry turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Tom, don't you think I would have mentioned it?"
Tom sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Just checking."
"I know, the situation makes me nervous too." Harry gave a grin. "But come on, Kit! This way, it's an adventure. The valiant heroes travel to unfamiliar lands, in search of a mysterious pub that is the key to their success!"
"There's a chance the valiant heroes might get lost and would be forced to put off their search for another day, though," Tom said, giving an innocent smile to a man who had looked at him funny for his hissing. While they could lower their hissing to the point where most people disregarded it as nothing but background noise, people managed to occasionally link the whispering sound to their lips, not the sound of something on the wind.
Harry huffed and shoved Tom, speeding up for a second before falling back to walk beside him again. "How much farther?"
"A few blocks away, I think," Tom said, seeing Harry's eyes light up in excitement.
"Do you think we have enough money?" Harry asked. "He said that he only had enough for one person."
"I'm sure we can figure it out."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked.
"Of course I am," Tom said with false bravado.
They walked on in silence aside from a few comments on their surroundings made by Tom whenever he saw something of interest. As they walked past a statue of a man on a horse and they entered Charing Cross road, Tom nudged Harry and whispered, "We're here."
The city was coming alive at a slow pace as the sun began peeking out from behind the roofs of a nearby cinema. The street seemed to be unremarkable, if not crowded with sights and sounds and smells much more intense than Tom was used to. However, it was such a mess that Tom thought that the mysterious Leaky Cauldron, invisible to the average passerby, was located in a fitting place. How brazen it was to have hidden a doorway into a magical world amidst so many Muggle crowds?
Harry's eyes were scanning ahead of them, looking for any sign of magic. Tom took deep breaths and searched for the taste of magic on his tongue, meeting nothing but dust and the smell of human bodies. They walked at a steady pace up the street, two mere souls against a tide of hundreds. But two special souls, Tom thought, because they were magic, and they were more.
The buildings seemed to blur by as Tom focused more of his attention on his other senses. He had no idea how long they had been walking when something tingling, something that could only be magic, danced on his tongue. Tom's hand took Harry's and gave a squeeze.
"Keep an eye out."
"Will do," Harry laughed. "What does it smell like?"
Tom's eyes fluttered closed as he dove into disassembling the riot of flavors, all interwoven in a great pattern that he couldn't make sense of. "There are so many…I am not sure. Just when I think I have an idea, I turn out to be wrong."
The smell was getting stronger the closer they walked, curling itself around Tom in an infuriating mess. It was taunting, it was confusing, and it got exponentially stronger the further they walked.
"I can see it," Harry's voice whispered, his step faltering. "There are so many colors…I haven't seen so many colors in a long time."
Tom began looking ahead through the crowds, looking for the source of the smell, the place that Harry could see. It took Tom a moment to realize that the shady, ordinary-looking pub a few buildings ahead was their doorway into magic. It hadn't been the sign that drew Tom's attention – it was more the strange distance in front of it, people moving away with nary a thought. As they walked up to it, Tom could detect even more whispers of smells dancing at the edge of his consciousness.
Harry moved forward and opened the door.
They entered a dark room, grimy and filled with people dressed in strange clothes and brimming with the scent of magic. Tom felt faint as it all assaulted his senses, leaning on Harry as the conflicting scents of the magic overwhelmed his brain with more input than he could comprehend. There was the smell of plants and food and metal and fabric and what could have been the smell of manure, even…
"Tom," Harry's excited voice whispered. "I can see. I can see everything! It's almost as if there's nothing wrong with me anymore." Harry turned to look at Tom and paled. "Are you okay? Tom?"
"I'm not feeling very well," Tom said, dropping into the closest chair nearby.
"Why, what is it?" Harry asked, leaning forward and staring into Tom's eyes.
Tom put his hands to his face and took a deep breath, cringing as the smell – the taste – intensified. "There's too much," he said, urging Harry to understand that this was an unprecedented situation where for once, while Harry was in his element, he was out of sync. Where for Harry it was a blessing, right now it was starting to become a headache for Tom.
"Ah," Harry breathed, leaning closer and bringing a hand up. With it, the faint smell of ice and winter invaded Tom's senses with such a strong force that all of the other smells quieted in the distance, held back where Tom could now process them at his leisure.
Tom sighed, leaning back into his chair. "What did you do, wrap me in a bubble?"
"Something like that," Harry said, looking at him with concern. "Do you want to continue? We can just sit here for a while."
"No, let's go. We might as well see what we'd came for."
They stood up, Harry walking over to the counter where a young fellow was polishing a tankard with a rag so filthy Tom thought that even the orphanage wouldn't have kept it.
"Hello sir," Harry said, looking down as if blushing, "could you help us get into Diagon Alley? We were told…"
"Of course!" the bartender said with a cheery smile, dropping the rag and tankard and bounding over to a door in the corner. "New students, I take it?"
"Yes," Tom said, crinkling his nose when the opening of the door yielded another influx of magic that hummed underneath the ice.
"Wait jus' a second," the man – probably the Tom that Dumbledore had mentioned – said, humming as he pulled out a stick much like the one Dumbledore had used. "M'name's Tom, I'm the bartender of this fine establishment. Watch here closely," he said as he tapped his magic stick in a strange pattern across the bricks.
The bricks danced open and Tom's knees weakened as the ice wasn't enough to hold back the magic.
Harry was feeling conflicted. He could finally see. It was glorious! Everything in the pub had been draped in thin blankets of magic of shimmering colors. While the intensity of the color and the sheer amount of magic in the area was a bit disorienting, Harry didn't mind because for once, he didn't have to worry about crashing into a chair or having to rely on Tom for help. He was able to move around on his own as he pleased because now…he wasn't vulnerable. He was in a new world with magic and power and more of the glittering threads, a tapestry that blocked in what had been missing for Harry for over five years. But…Tom wasn't faring as well.
His magic roiled around him, confusion and irritation evident with the restless circling of his threads. And when Tom entered the pub with Harry, he had almost collapsed, leaning on him with his magic screaming in distress. While for Harry, this world was salvation, for Tom it was a nightmare.
As the nice bartender chatted and touched the glowing points Harry could see on the wall, Harry moved closer to Tom. If a pub was bad enough, he wasn't sure what would happen to Tom if he encountered Diagon Alley, a street just filled with magic of all kinds. As an extra precaution, Harry's hands twisted and he threw another layer of his magic around Tom just as the magic in the wall began looping back and revealing Diagon Alley.
Tom's face turned nauseated and Harry grabbed the underside of his arm just in time as Tom's knees gave out. Tom's magic calmed and his face relaxed, although he was still looking unwell.
"Here ya boys are! Welcome to the Wizardin' World!" The bartender – Tom as well – waved them on. Harry smiled at him and thanked him, eyes flicking back to Tom. Tom's lips were pulled into a grimace and he latched onto Harry's arm as well. Harry walked forward, Tom giving a halfhearted wave of goodbye to the bartender as they made their way into Diagon Alley proper.
It was glorious. Delicate arches of pale blue framed houses, a matrix of thinner threads filling the spaces between the thicker lines. Yellow magic shaped the next building and the one after that was light green and red. The whole street stretched down, buildings of and people of all colors filling Harry's sight. The sound was overwhelming – unfamiliar words littered the air – and the smells of sweets and small vendor snacks suffused the air with a warm, meaty scent. Even with all of the sensory overload…it was beautiful, it was great, and Harry almost didn't need Tom's help at all.
"Are you okay?" Harry whispered to Tom, whose eyes were darting around in excitement. His grimace had turned into a weak smile.
"Better. This place…it's so different."
"I know!" Harry said in English, hopping in excitement. "I can remember some stuff and I know there's a great café down the street that sells the best ice cream!"
Tom shook his head. "Harry, we don't have any money. All we have is that pouch Dumbledore gave us."
"Hey, I didn't get one. Remember, he forgot it? He mentioned a fund for kids like us. Do you think we can find where it is?"
"A bank, then."
"I don't remember a bank so let's just keep looking, okay?"
Tom nodded and they waded through the large crowds, content to just see the sights. Harry asked Tom to provide commentary on what they were passing, as none of the signs were enchanted. Tom was happy to oblige.
"Well," Tom said, amusement evident, "on our right we have Syke's Apothecary, complete with a window display of jars with unnamable things inside them. On our left… is Potage's Cauldron shop. Oh, a pawnshop called Niffler's Den…we might have to visit it if we cannot get more money. I wonder what a Niffler is? And Siren Strings, it looks like a musical instrument shop and oh-"
Harry listened to Tom's excited rambling with a fond smile, drinking in the sight of the shops and the information Tom was reciting about them. As Tom grew more and more excited about their surroundings, his posture straightened back into its perfect form and his magic began moving about animatedly behind its delicate golden shield.
"Dove, I found a café – wonder if it's the one you remember? It's called Madam Fancourt's Confectionary Delights."
Harry pondered over it for a moment but shook his head in denial. "I didn't go out that often for sweets. I remember the Quidditch shop best. And hey, is that a bank up ahead?"
Tom's eyes searched the crowd and he nodded, a blank mask falling over his face. Harry sighed as Tom began to stride forward with long, determined strides, with Harry falling into step behind him. They made their way through the crowd, brushing by people in a myriad of colors as they reached the imposing building covered in a sheer layer of bronze magic. Next to the open doors was a strange creature, practically a solid block of bronze. He was far more solid than most of the people that Harry had seen today. Not as solid as Tom or Professor Dumbledore were, but very close. And his magic did not dance around his skin. It was as if it was locked underneath skin of glass, roiling within invisible confines. As they entered the doors, Harry informed Tom with a whispering hiss, of the strange creature, which he presumed was a goblin from his childhood memories.
They walked into a grand hall, laced with bronze magical streamers along every surface. Their footsteps echoed across the hall, which was rather quiet despite the multitudes of wizards at the counters. Although bronze magic covered everything Harry could see with various patterns, the intensity of the single color when Harry was so used to seeing black or Tom's green, blue and gold made it difficult to discern any details. Harry ground his teeth in irritation and squinted his eyes as he followed Tom's confident pace up to an empty teller.
Tom's hands twitched, magic anxious, as his calm voice asked, "Excuse me, but is there any way to collect additional funds from the Hogwarts orphan fund? There was a slight mistake and my cousin did not get any money with which to buy his supplies."
Harry gave a little start at being called Tom's cousin. Despite having time to get used to the idea, it still seemed a bit strange. It was too new of a lie. A stranger at the nearest teller twitched, his magic showing curiosity. Harry kept his gaze fixed on him but the stranger gave no more odd signals.
The bronze being behind the counter shifted, voice rumbling. "Gringotts has not been made aware of any mistakes with Hogwarts' Orphan and Muggleborn Fund. Identification?"
Tom's magic flickered in irritation but his voice was smooth and collected. "Would my Hogwarts letter be enough? They didn't have a letter for Harry but he's definitely magical; Professor Dumbledore confirmed it."
"Letter then, please," the goblin spit out with mild distaste, "though Hogwarts never makes mistakes with its letters." Tom gave a quiet hiss under his breath and pulled out the letter and the coin pouch, placing both on top of the counter with more force than was polite. Harry pinched Tom on the arm as he moved forward and peered over the counter.
"Well, there was a mistake this time. Can I prove I'm magical so I can get money for my supplies?"
"There are some blood tests but they will require money. They can determine magical status, among other things."
"We'll do that, then," Tom said, pushing forward the coin pouch. The goblin pulled it over to him, looking inside.
"You don't have enough. Do you have any other business here? If not, have a nice day," the goblin said, voice flat.
Tom's magic snapped around him with vicious force, the air around him vibrating. The goblin twitched but said nothing as Tom pulled the bag back and turned around, walking away with strides that were far too even. Harry sighed as he followed Tom out of the building.
"Calm down, Kit. We'll just ration the money out like we planned. Maybe we can steal stuff."
Tom took a few deep breaths before nodding. "We have to speak English, Dove, remember?"
"Oh," Harry said. "I keep forgetting."
"Until we find out more, we'll stick to English. Anyway," Tom said, pulling out the list from his pocket, parchment crackling, "we should buy the essentials first. That means wands. We don't know how much they're worth; based on how important they seem to be, they must be very expensive."
Harry murmured his assent and they continued walking down the Alley, past the bank and several intersections. Tom eventually resumed his commentary, which proved to be just as interesting – if not more subdued – than before.
"Knut Market, you said?" Harry interrupted at some point. He hadn't heard of it before but if the name was accurate, they would be spending much time there after getting their wands.
"Yes, why?"
"Knuts aren't worth much. We might be able to get some of our supplies there."
Tom hummed in response. They walked down the Alley for a few more minutes before Tom's magic snapped out of its lazy swirling, springing to attention. "Found a place that sells wands. Ollivander's."
They walked up to a small shop, Tom wrinkling his nose and Harry bursting with excitement. The shop was so covered in magic that it looked solid, almost as solid as the bank and the goblins looked. It was also a rainbow of colors, some woven into intricate patterns. To Harry's delight, he recognized a few of the shapes in them.
The air inside the shop seemed stale, as if it had been eons since fresh air had graced the room. There was a faint scent of polish on the air that Harry could detect, as well as the smell of wood. Tom's nose was twitching and taking into account the harsh set of his jaw, Harry presumed that the smell inside the shop was rather overwhelming. Of course it would be, Harry thought, with so many different kinds of magic around. The interior of the shop had a lot of patterns but also a vast amount of what Harry could only call magical splatter, traces of magic layering over and around the patterns.
"I remember your parents; I was wondering if you would come by, seeing as you've been missing for so long," a whispery voice said from behind Harry. He jumped, twisting around with his magic held at the ready, only to find a strange old man with silver magic that seemed to dislike his body, seeing as it stretched across half the room in glowing tendrils.
"Y-you do?" Harry asked, stepping back.
"Mahogany, eleven inches, excellent for transfiguration for your father, Mr. Potter. Willow, ten and a quarter inches, swishy; a nice wand for charm work for your mother. And who might this be?" the old man, who Harry could only presume to be Ollivander, said while turning to Tom.
"Hello, my name is Tom Riddle," Tom said, "and he is my cousin, Harry Riddle."
"Ah, of course," Ollivander said with a blustery sigh. "Far be it for me to put you in danger, Mr. Riddle." With a casual flick of his wand, a tendril of silver magic raced over to a desk and back, hovering around Harry and making the most peculiar of movements. A second flick caused the process to repeat with Tom, whose magic hummed in agitation.
"It's a tape measure," Tom whispered to Harry, eyes fixed on the retreating figure of Ollivander.
Ollivander pulled out something from the back shelves before returning to them, looking them over with curiosity. He took out something that shone silver in his hands and passed it to Tom. "Give it a swish," Ollivander said, and Tom obeyed.
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. A strand of magic – blue magic – was moving into the silver wand and…twisting. Something wasn't right. Tom's magic lashed in agitation and the blue inside the wand shivered and spewed out the other end in a huge mess. Almost without thinking, Harry raised a hand and stopped the blue magic before it could become yet another colorful splatter on the wall.
Everyone froze. Tom's magic hummed with panic, Ollivander's was trembling in shock, and Harry could only move his hand back towards him until the blue magic joined his magical system, since Tom and Harry had been able to use each other's magic for a few years now. It had been different once – Tom's was dark blue, while Harry's was green – but now it was the same. Harry didn't think anything of the action but Ollivander's choked gasp meant that it was far more significant than he had thought.
Ollivander's magic swirled around him, tendrils spreading to each corner of the store and weaving themselves in a complicated pattern that included so many shapes that Harry's eyes hurt looking at them. He did not use a wand.
Ollivander smelled like the sweet scent of forest leaves during autumn, decomposing, and tasted of dust. Tom had been wary of the way that the smell of leaves did not lessen with distance, but instead stayed there, overwhelming. Ollivander had recognized who Harry was from the very first second, but seemed like he would keep the secret. While not an ideal situation, Tom hoped that it would do for now.
When Tom had swished the wand in his hand like Ollivander had directed him, he knew that nothing good would happen. The wand had been wrong from the start, tugging on his magic in a way he had never felt before and twisting it until Tom felt himself quivering in agitation. When his magic had leapt free of the wand and Harry's hand had stretched out…Tom's heart had stopped.
When autumn leaves had overwhelmed any other magics that Tom could distantly sense…he panicked. The wand dropped from his fingers and he leapt at Harry, standing in front of him with his magic quivering. Ollivander was already dangerous because of his knowledge of Harry's real name. Knowledge of Harry's ability – something that they had decided to keep secret – made him even more dangerous, even discounting the way that his magic sealed the shop from outside influence.
"Stay away," Tom said, words almost slipping into a hiss.
Ollivander lifted his arms and placed his wand down with excruciating slowness on the messy work table behind him but Tom wasn't fooled. Ollivander had sealed his shop with nothing more than a twitch of his fingers.
"I am not your enemy."
Tom took a step forward. "Then what are you?"
"A friend."
"Why should we believe that?" Tom felt Harry's icy shield falter and fought the urge to sneeze as dust danced across his sense.
"I know what you are and I won't betray you." Ollivander took a few steps back. "It's been so long. I'm sorry if my reactions frightened you; I sealed my shop from prying eyes and ears for this conversation."
"What we are?" Harry asked, stepping out from behind Tom. Tom let him; looking into Ollivander's eyes, he was sure that he was telling the truth.
"I'm afraid that I'm not at liberty to say."
Tom scowled. "And who is holding you back?"
Ollivander sighed and sat down on the surface of his work desk, knocking down a few boxes to the floor. With a twitch of his fingers, the boxes righted themselves again on his desk in a more precarious position than they were in before they had fallen.
"A long time ago, I was tasked with being a watcher. So that is what I have done all these years; watching children come by and collect wands from me, differing in magical strength but overall, not what I was looking out for. I was a precaution, placed where I was just in case the worst were to occur. I cannot tell you more than that. Now, let me get you both your wands."
Ollivander flicked his wrist and a row of boxes floated in the air in front of Tom. "Try them one at a time. Don't swish them; just tell me if any of them feel right."
Tom raised his eyebrow but took out the wand from the first box. It looked ordinary; a carved stick of dark wood. But it wasn't right. He tried the second box, then the third and the fourth and down the whole row. Each time he would place down the last wand in the row, the boxes would close and zoom back to the huge shelves in the back of the shop, replaced with yet another row.
Several repetitions of this pattern later, a wand that Tom picked up felt different from the rest. It didn't look special or different. It was a dark gold color and polished smooth like the others. But holding it…Tom felt a sense of completeness.
"I don't know why I thought it would be any different," Ollivander said, standing up and walking over. "They almost always end up choosing holly."
"A holly wand?" Tom asked, looking up into Ollivander's silver eyes.
Ollivander nodded. "Holly and phoenix feather, 13 inches, unusual combination. The wand of a protector," he said, eyes flicking from Tom to Harry. "And for you, Mr. Potter, some special arrangements must be made."
"Special arrangements?" Harry asked, glowing green eyes staring at Ollivander with unusual intensity.
"Yes. Appearances have to be kept. It wouldn't do for anyone to ever find out about what you are." Ollivander flicked his wrist and a few dusty boxes zoomed over to hover in front of Harry. "Pick whichever one feels the most right. It doesn't matter much but still, picking one that will cooperate with you would be best."
Tom watched as Harry hovered his hand over the first box before pausing, with a contemplative expression on his face. A breath later his hand was opening the fourth box in a row, a shower of dust falling to the ground from the lid. Inside was a wand of lighter gold than Tom's own. When Harry picked it up, his eyes closed and he smiled. "Yes, this one will be nice."
Ollivander smiled. "Linden wood, no core. It will be hard for you in the beginning, to pretend, so I suggest watching Tom closely and mimicking the way his magic moves."
Tom's eyes widened. Ollivander removed the other boxes and gave a sigh. "Free of charge. You may go, but I advise you both to keep your talents secret."
They needed more information than that. "Surely you can tell us something!" Tom said. All this talk of secrets… they had been planning to do that from the very start but the serious way that Ollivander was treating the situation made Tom think that there was more here than Harry and Tom could have dreamed. A group of people who placed Ollivander in an important position, checking children to see if any of them were exhibiting the same talents that Harry possessed. He also had knowledge that Tom had his own strange talent, although Tom thought that his control over his face had been almost impeccable. How would he have known?
"Goodbye," Ollivander said, flicking his wrist. An invisible force pushed Tom and Harry to the door and at once, the smells of the magic outside began invading Tom's senses again.
"Will you ever tell us?" Harry asked as they both were pushed out of the door. Ollivander's face was solemn as he mouthed words under his breath. Despite the distance between them, Tom could hear what he had said.
"I will see you later, little Weaver."
AN: The cinema they walked by on their way to The Leaky Cauldron existed. It was called the Cameo Revudenews in that time period. I also researched the word etymology for 'kid' and apparently it was officially accepted as the informal word for 'child' in 1850. Wizards are still probably out of the loop, however ;D
Linden wood, according to internet sources (so accurate lol) can mean "seeing beyond outer appearances" so I thought that could symbolize Harry's sight.
Also...finally I'm getting to the meat of the story! The original conception that led to this being written at all! Despite my somewhat ridiculous sticking to canon, MW is really a bit AU. I promise that you'll enjoy it, though! :)
Sorry that I've been taking over a month for each chapter but RL has been rather demanding. But thank you, all of you, for reviewing and favoriting and following this story. It really makes my day ;D As always, if you want to stay updated on the progress of this story, head over to my Tumblr blog, bleubirdsong!
