Chapter Sixteen:
Haunting Words and an Early Birthday Gift

The summer passed more quickly than I could have thought possible. Madam's inflexible view of child labor worked my hands raw. Since I was 'the most hopeless and untalented cook' she had ever seen, I was strictly to scour the cooking pots and clear the dishes once the meals were through. The putridly sweet odor of the grainy lavender bar of soap caused me to become nauseous as the first spot was sprayed with liquid. Secretly, (for she never watched me), Tom would help. I felt weak, having him do the only task that had been set aside and assigned for me. I voiced that thought but once, for he insisted. He informed me that he required something to keep his hands occupied. Madam would not object so long as the work was completed. And I could never refuse Tom anything that he so desired.

"What do you plan to do once you have finished schooling?" he asked. His hands were consumed by the odorous bubbles. I was sitting near enough that I was frequently spattered by tiny flecks of moisture from his vigorous cleaning. I looked at him, startled.

"I do not really know... perhaps I will work at the Ministry," I replied truthfully. I had not leant any previous thought to a career any time before. I had no plans for my future. Somehow, I thought that I had not needed them. That was to become true, in a way.

He answered my unvoiced query. "I do not know either. Perhaps I will become the Minister of Magic one day!" He chuckled to himself, as did I.

"A fine goal, I am sure," I mused.

He paused. "I had thought about perhaps settling down, as well." His eyes lazily drifted to meet mine for a moment so brief that I wondered if I had perhaps imagined it. "It could be pleasant..."

I pondered at who the fortunate girl would be. It never once occurred to me that I might have a chance. We were but close friends, though I wished that we could be more. Still, his words were haunting. What had he meant when he had uttered them?

And why mention it to me?

Tom had begun to blurt out spontaneous things at the oddest of times, often hinting of a secret relationship in which he was entwined. It grieved me to think that he was hiding such a petty secret from me. Surely by then I was trustworthy enough to him. Surely he believed that we could share such truths between us. But would I have been willing to do the same?

It was thrilling to slumber so near to Tom. I felt shallow admitting as much to myself, but I could not deny my feelings. I had already tried. I sometimes thought I heard the gentle tread of careful feet shuffling quietly to stand beside my cot, but I was never certain. If I felt a presence, it had dissipated ere I opened my eyes. And Tom's steady breathing was a comfort on the darkest of nights. Even on nights plagued by nightmares.

I did not realize that I had been weeping, once, as I slept until I felt a sturdy arm snake comfortingly around my waist. "Why are you crying, Danielle?" Tom asked as he situated himself beside me upon the mattress.

I blinked. "What do you mean? I am not-" He took my hand in his own and lifted my finger to brush against my cheek. My skin was damp and warm. "Oh." He drew me closer and held me until I had fallen asleep. If I had known better, at the time, I might have reflected upon it as romantic. But I did not want to believe that it was, lest I became hopeful and my heart break.

-

The day finally dawned when we were to depart for Hogwarts. It was a gloriously sunny morning, with wispy hints of cloud and a gentle breeze. Flying weather, it was observed. I paled noticeably when he informed me of our method of travel.

"We will be seen!" I protested. "There is not room for the both of our trunks!"

"We will not be seen," he promised as he grinned wickedly. He was fully aware that my fear of heights had not entirely left me.

I sighed. "Tom, there is nothing to cover us!" I frantically gestured to what would have been sky if we had not been indoors. "There is not a cloud!"

His grin widened, and his eyes flickered to a patch of silver lying crumpled beneath my pillow. "What...?" I breathed.

He inspected his nails, all the while eyeing me with peculiar satisfaction. "Consider it to be a very early birthday gift."

I gasped as I withdrew the shimmering fabric and began to examine it. "Tom, this is... Oh..." I admired the invisibility cloak lovingly. The material easily slid about in my palm, causing it to vanish. "Where did you find such a thing?"

But his only reply was, "I have been saving it for you." I threw my arms around his neck in an embrace. If he was surprised, he said nothing of it, which was his way. "I am glad that you like it. But we must soon depart..." I murmured an awed whisper of gratitude as I mounted the Tinderblast. I then draped the cloak over us and secured it to the broom with small ties.

Our first stop was Diagon Alley. There, we purchased our supplies–letters had been sent to us earlier than usual, as they were expecting our arrival. Tom also gave to me an ice cream cone. I wondered how, if he had lived at an orphanage so long, he had gotten such a large sum of money stashed away. I did not dare ask him, for that would have been meddling in his private affairs–what was I to know that they could one day become my own? But along with the mysterious appearance of hundreds of galleons, it utterly befuddled me as to why he showered me in so many costly surprises. I thought, at first, that he perhaps felt obligated to do so, on account for us having to stay at the orphanage. Though, as time progressed, that answer became less and less likely. Tom would not have tried to ensure our friendship by bribery, or anything such as that. He knew that I could not be bought. It would be long ere I truly knew.

Our second and final stop was our original destination of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was an odd feeling to know that the entire castle was deserted, save for us, Professor Dippet, and Hagrid–though he dwelled in a hut at the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. And after settling my trunk in the Ravenclaw common room, that was the first place that I went. I did not tell Tom–though he most likely guessed–where I was going, for I was aware that he would not be eager to face the young giant he had gotten expelled. And judging by that, the feeling was undoubtedly mutual.

I knocked politely on the newly-appointed gamekeeper's wooden door. It opened a crack to reveal a set of familiar eyes, and the unfamiliar ones–as well as snout–of a small, energetic, boarhound pup. I blinked in surprise as the tiny animal barreled down the door–so to speak–and coated my face with a layer of spittle.

"Come, now, Fang," said a voice that sounded as though it were failing to seem cross.

I beamed. "Hello, Hagrid."