Chapter 4

Tom was not sure what to think about the Elora girl. He had never met anyone like her. For some reason, she liked him. No other kid he had ever met had liked him, at least not for long. Perhaps that was because he had not met many kids outside of the orphanage. Kids with families might be nicer. Still, hearing about Elora's parents, it did not seem like the family environment was much better than the orphanage. She did say she had one person who loved her, though. Maybe she did have the better life, and perhaps that was why she was different.

Eventually, Tom stopped questioning it. Did it really matter why Elora wanted to be his friend as long as she was sincere? He highly doubted she was manipulating him. The question was, did he want a friend? He did not need anyone but himself; he had learned to become self-sufficient. Still, there were benefits to being friends with Elora, the most obvious being that she could tell him about the wizarding world.

He also found he was oddly at peace when he was around her. It felt good to be liked. She was certainly like no one he had ever known. He liked the stories she shared and the games she made up. He could see how it could be easy and even beneficial to get lost in a fantasy world, especially when the real world seemed so terrible. He admired how upbeat she managed to remain despite her life circumstances. Lastly, she knew what it was like to be abused, and that common experience formed the basis for a bond that was forming between them.

It was cold when Tom arrived at the part he first Saturday of January. White snow blanketed the ground and covered the equipment. No one was playing. All of the children were at the other end of the park, sledding down the large hill. The orphanage always brought several sleds for the kids to share. Tom rarely got a turn. When he did manage to find a sled, he had to protect it fiercely less someone snatch it back from him.

He was not sure where he was supposed to meet Elora today, so he just stood at the top of the hill and watched the other children slide down. Everyone seemed to be ignoring him, which he found to be a good thing. Most attention to him was usually negative attention.

"Tom!"

The young boy turned to see Elora running toward him. She was wearing a heavy coat, scarf, hat, mittens, and boots. Everything looked like it was made of fine material. Tom, on the other hand, merely had a worn coat, boots, and gloves.

Elora stopped several feet in front of him. She bent down and rested her hands on her knees as she panted. After a minute, she looked up and gave him a weak smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Tom said.

Elora seemed to have caught her breath as she stood up. "Do you want to meet Granny now? She has a sled we can use."

Tom blinked. He was never particularly eager to meet anyone, but he supposed it could not harm in this case. "Ok."

Elora grinned at him. "Great. Follow me."

Tom trudged through the snow after her. It looked like they were headed for the parking lot. He could see an older woman who was dressed similarly to Elora who had a red sled in her hand. He guessed this was her grandma. They even had the same white-blond hair. He stopped beside Elora once they reached the woman.

"Granny!" Elora said excitedly. "This is Tom!" She turned to the boy and smiled. "Tom, this is my Granny."

"Hello, dear," Granny said with a warm smile. "How are you doing on this pleasant afternoon?"

Tom took a moment to take her in. He had never met anyone's grandmother before; he did not know what they were like. If what Elora had told him was true, perhaps they were better than parents. He would give her a chance. He shrugged in response to her question. "I'm fine." It was always a good day when he visited the park.

"Good. Are you two ready to go sledding?" She held up the red sled in front of her.

"Yes!" Elora exclaimed.

Granny smiled and led the way back to the hill. Tom walked beside Elora as they followed her. He wondered if they would be expected to use the sled at the same time. He was not used to sharing, and he was not sure what he would think about it. Of course, Elora could always be an exception to any rule.

Once they reached a spot on the hill where there was no one around, Granny set the sled on the snow. "Alright," she said, "Elora, sit at the front of the sled. Tom, she set in the back."

Tom blinked. So, they were sharing. He sat down on the sled first, making sure to move back as far as possible. Then Elora carefully sat in front of him in between his legs. She leaned back against his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. He felt oddly comfortable. He waited for what was to happen next.

Granny walked around behind them. "Ready?" she said.

"Yes!" Elora called.

"Alright. Hang on!"

Then the sled moved forward. It tipped over the edge of the hill and then slid down. Elora raised her arms and screamed joyfully, but Tom kept his arms around her. The feeling he received from sledding down the hill was good. They slid farther than the kids who were not sharing a sled.

"Let's do it again!" Elora said as she jumped off the sled.

Tom stood up slower, but he nodded in agreement. He ignored the eyes of the other children that were on him. This activity was delightful, and he was not about to let them ruin it. For once, winter was fun.

He had another surprise a little bit later when he and Elora were resting at the top of the hill. "Oh," Elora said suddenly as she dug into her coat pocket. She pulled out something small wrapped in blue paper. "I know it was your birthday a few days ago, so happy birthday." She smiled and held out the small gift.

Tom was dumbstruck as he slowly took the object from her hand. No one had ever given him a gift, least of all for his birthday. The day of his birth was always just like any other. Worse, it made him think of his mother. He unwrapped the paper to find a small, pastel-colored top. He turned it over, wondering at it.

"I know it's not much," Elora said with a slight smile, "but-"

"It's great," Tom interrupted her. "Thank you."

At this, a bright smile lit Elora's face. She walked closer and hugged him.

Tom hesitated before hugging her back. It was a bit awkward because of their bulky coats, but he enjoyed it just the same. It felt good to be remembered and appreciated. If this was what friendship was supposed to be, he liked it.

Tom continued trying to produce magic on his own. He was growing frustrated with his continual lack of success. If he had not trusted Elora, he could have said the magic they had produced together was a fluke or a figment of their imaginations. He could not believe this, however. The consequences would be to grave.

Besides, he could still talk to snakes. That had to count for something, right? They found hum whenever he was outside. They would whisper things to him; tell him secrets. Sometimes it was somewhat disturbing, but he could not stop the contact. He was fascinated with the creatures. He had not known they possessed such intelligence. Perhaps they would make useful allies, though he did not yet dare try to persuade them to obey him.

Of course, his relationship with snakes just caused the other kids to view him as even odder. They best of them thought he was crazy, and the worst thought him demonic, as snakes were often a symbol of evil. Tom did not think snakes were bad, though. Elora had said they were the symbol of Slytherin, one of the four houses at Hogwarts. The wizarding school would not have an evil house, would it? That would be preposterous. No, snakes were simply misunderstood. Like him.

The first time he managed to produce magic on his own, it had not been through choice. It had happened spontaneously as he was fleeing his tormentors – the same three boys that had chased after him and Elora that first day at the park. They had cornered him outside; his back was pressed against the building, and he had no way out. He had shut his eyes to wait for the blow, but when he opened them again, he saw something strange.

The boys were covered in some sticky substance Tom had never seen before. He looked up to make sure nothing had been dropped on them, but he could find no logical explanation for the situation. His young mind concluded that it must have been magic. Magic he created.

The sticky substance made the boys immobile, so Tom was able to quickly get away from them, a wide grin on his face. He could not wait to tell Elora.

She listened attentively as he told her the story during their meeting in April. For once, he spoke animatedly, putting emotion in his voice. Why shouldn't he? This was so exciting! When he was finished he paused and waited for his friend to speak, eager to hear her opinion.

"Wow," Elora said, appearing fascinated by the story. "Sounds like magic to me."

"Yes!" Tom said happily. His eyes were dancing with delight. He had done it. He had really performed magic! He was a real wizard.

"I haven't been able to do anything like that," Elora said, "but you are older than me."

"When's your birthday?"

"May 16th."

Tom would have to remember that. He did not have any money and so could not buy her anything (he did not even have anything with which to make something), but he could still try to do something special for her. It would have to be on an earlier Saturday, though, because they would not be meeting exactly on her birthday.

"I'm sure you'll be able to do magic soon," he said. "I want to try to control it."

"That's hard," Elora said. "Especially without a wand and spells. That's what school is for."

"Then I'll just be ahead." He shrugged. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

"Except right now," Elora said, a small smile creeping up on his face.

"Except now." For some reason, Tom found himself smiling in return. This was not something normal to him, and he did not quite understand it. He had never had much to smile about. Until now.

"I like your smile," Elora said softly. "You should do it more often."

Tom blinked in surprise at the compliment. Then the smile returned as he scooted closer to her and put his arm around her. "Only for you," he whispered.

He saw her smile as she leaned against him. Tom had a growing feeling that he could not comprehend, but he could not deny how much he liked it. For once, he felt perfectly at peace.

Tom continued to spontaneously produce magic at an exponential pace. He attempted to control it and use it to his advantage, but he was not having much success. He could feel the magic in him, though. He knew he was special. This knowledge alone gave him enough motivation to bear anything that was brought his way through living at the orphanage. He knew this life would not last; he was destined for so much more than all of these other kids, and, one day, he would prove his greatness to them all.

At the end of July, he had successful. When it had first happened, he could hardly believe he had succeeded. It had not been very elaborate. He had simply wished for something bad to happen to the boy who was teasing him or, rather, his rabbit. Tom had willed something negative, and his magic had taken effect. Vines had shot out from a bush and strangled the boy's pet. The boy had been horrified, but when he went to a caretaker, there was no logical link to Tom. The caretaker had no choice but to let him off.

Tom felt very good. Over the next few days, he noticed some of the kids were looking at him differently. They seemed almost wary of him. Good. If he could learn how to control his magic and use it against them, then they would leave him alone out of fear.

Elora seemed less enthusiastic about this story when he told her. It was the first Saturday of August. They had been meeting for an entire year, and Tom had seen a vast improvement in his life. It could only get better.

"Did you really have to take it out on the rabbit?" Elora asked, uncertainty showing on her face.

Tom frowned. "I didn't specifically want that to happen. I just wanted something."

"Maybe you could have been more defensive-"

Tom shook his head. "It's not that easy. I'm trying to learn how to get it to do exactly what I want. Besides, that kid deserved it, didn't he? He was picking on me."

Elora bit her lip. "Well, I suppose…"

"I just want to hurt those who hurt me," Tom said, anxious to make her understand. He did not know why, but he did not want her to view him in a bad light. He had to defend his actions. "They'll leave me alone after awhile, and then I won't have to bother anyone. I'll be able to live without worry of being attacked."

Elora nodded slowly. "I understand," she said softly. "It makes sense."

The way she had saddened and was looking away made Tom's anger melt away to be replaced by concern. "Have your parents been hitting you?" he asked quietly.

Elora nodded again. She did not speak, but he could see tears forming in her eyes.

Tom felt something tug at his heart, and he instantly moved over to her side so that he could be closer to her. He did not understand this strange feeling, but it was not something he could easily deny. "I'm sorry," he said gently as he put an arm around her.

He was surmised when she turned and wrapped both arms around him, burying her face in his chest. "It's my fault," she said miserably. "I'm disobedient. I shouldn't anger them. Maybe they're right."

Something flashed inside Tom, and he wrapped his other arm around Elora to hold her close to him. "No," he said sternly. "They are wrong. It is not right what they do. It's not your fault. You don't deserve it. I think you're amazing."

Elora sniffed and looked up at him with tear-stained eyes. "Really?"

"Of course," Tom said. "You're my friend. I'm here for you. I will always listen." He found it outraging that anyone would want to hurt a girl like Elora who had been nothing but kind to him ever since he had met her. He wanted to make her parents pay, and it made him angry that there was nothing he could do. Someday, though, when he was stronger. He would make sure Elora was safe from harm always.

"Thank you, Tom," Elora whispered.

Tom could not explain the good feeling that slowly came over him, and he did not really want to. Maybe having a friend was something to cherish after all.