Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN:
Here's the new chapter, on time as promised, yay! ^^
Thanks for your reviews, as always, they're much appreciated.
This time, thankfully, I only have one thing to clarify:
It's the 1930s-1940s in Part I of this fic, not the 1990s like in canon, so we can't expect that everything is the same; like the guard goblins of Gringotts asking to see vault keys at the entrance (their security measures were more strict back then, and we can infer that after Grindelwald's defeat in canon they became more lax due to that span of peaceful years), the existence of Leisure Alley, the message in Knockturn's street sign, Monsieur Ermenegilde's shop, etc…
That's all, folks!
I hope you enjoy this one! It's a light one too :) Let me know what you think!
Part I: Chapter 11
The trip back to the orphanage was a tense affair.
Harry had had such a good time with Alphard, perusing all the marvelous items in the Quidditch shop as his new friend kept a running commentary explaining all sorts of things to Harry, that time had flown by before he had realized that he was late for meeting Tom back at the bookstore.
Reluctantly, he had informed Alphard that he had to leave, though he had been surprised when, leaving the store with Alphard by his side, the boy had stopped him before Harry could make a run towards Flourish & Blotts.
"Here, this is for you," had said Alphard, grinning at him as he plucked out a package from one of the large pockets of his dark blue robes.
Harry had recognized it. In the Quidditch shop, for a moment, the boy had slipped away and Harry had seen him buying something at the counter, to then come back holding a small package wrapped in shinny silver paper with a big, black bow. Harry had assumed, of course, that it was something that Alphard had bought for one of his siblings or cousins.
"For me?" Harry had said, looking at him in wonderment.
"Of course!" had piped in Alphard, his grin widening as he added, "For helping me out, you know, back then - and for showing me a good time."
'A good time?', Harry had thought in amazement. True, it had been fun, but it wasn't as if it merited the gifting of a present. Alphard must be a very lonely boy, the thought had then struck Harry.
Nevertheless, Harry hadn't even considered the possibility of protesting and humbly refusing the present. On the contrary, he had been rather excited of getting something new without having to spend the last galleons left in his leather pouch.
So he had swiftly grasped the package from Alphard's hands, shot him a beaming smile and had chirped happily, "Thanks!"
Alphard had shrugged his shoulders. "Don't mention it. It's only a trifle." Then he had parted from Harry with a wave of his hand as he said, "I'll see you at Hogwarts!"
Harry had waved at him as well, as he had watched as Alphard made his way to Gambol & Japes, the joke shop, feeling despondent that he didn't have time to explore that shop himself and feeling a bit sad from losing the company of his new friend.
Regardless, they would see each other at magic school, since Alphard had already told him that it would be his first year at Hogwarts as well. The boy seemingly knew all about the school, from what his parents, siblings, and cousins had told him, but Alphard had refused to tell Harry anything at all.
"You'll enjoy it more if it's a surprise for you," Alphard had told him, and Harry had simply accepted it and hadn't press for more, since he did indeed love surprises, after all.
Thus, he had finally reached Flourish & Blotts, seeing Tom standing outside, looking extremely angry, impatiently tapping his shoe on the cobble-stoned ground, with Lord Horkos' cage in one hand, their two trunks by his sides, and with the largest and thickest book Harry had ever seen tucked under an armpit – evidently, Tom had managed to charm the clerk so that they would do that trick which made things weightless.
Harry had tilted his head to a side so that he could read the title of the thick tome: 'Hogwarts: A History - New Unabridged Edition!'.
"What's that?" had instantly demanded Tom, pointing a finger at the package in Harry's hand.
"I'll explain later," Harry had quickly replied, regretting that he hadn't had a place in which to hide it from his brother. "Let's get back home before Magda realizes that we've been missing for the entire day."
"St. Jerome's is not home," had snapped Tom poignantly, but Harry hadn't bothered to argue as he took hold of his trunk's handle and started to make way towards the Leaky Cauldron.
Tom still despised the orphanage with all his hatred and bitterness, even after Mrs. Sharpe had died and Mr. Jenkins had been sacked. However, Harry still felt that Alice was like a mother to them, still loved and adored her, and still considered Billy Stubbs, Eric Whalley, and Amy Benson to be his closest friends, and thus, for him, St. Jerome's was simply 'home'.
As they finally left the Leaky Cauldron and entered London proper, with Tom still railing at Harry for having been late and for leaving his trunk with him, they managed to get on a bus which would leave them a few blocks away from the orphanage –the bus driver shot them the oddest of looks at their trunks and owl.
Then, Harry finally started to recount his meeting of Alphard Black as he unwrapped his gift, too absorbed to notice how Tom's expression darkened with every word he spoke.
When what Alphard had given him was finally revealed, Harry widely grinned in excitement.
It was a glossy book, called 'The Most Extraordinary Chaser Tactics and Maneuvers of the Century!', and he was quick to open it and start flipping through it; seeing countless moving pictures of flying young wizards doing all sorts of air-acrobatics as they scored quaffles through hoops. According to Alphard, being a Chaser was the best and most fun position in Quidditch.
Suddenly, the book was ripped from his hands, and Harry loudly complained as Tom ruffled through the book as he batted away all of Harry's attempts to get it back.
"Quidditch – a wizards' sport, you say?" sneered Tom acidly. "Looks like utter rubbish to me."
And with that, Tom briskly flung it over Harry's head.
Harry let out a startled and alarmed yell, but thankfully swiftly snatched the sailing book in mid-air before it could fly out of the bus' window.
"What's the matter with you!" Harry bellowed irately as he protectively pressed the book against his chest, wrapping his thin arms around it.
Tom's dark blue eyes narrowed to slits, as he hissed out spitefully, "You're all giddy and happy that you have a new little friend, aren't you? Did you tell him that you're a lowly orphan? I bet he won't like you as much when he finds out."
Harry shot him a mighty glower, but said nothing. He simply utterly ignored him – which he knew was the one thing Tom hated the most- and turned around in his seat, giving him his back in an angle that made it impossible for his brother to snatch the book away from him.
He spent the rest of the bus trip eagerly going through the book, while Tom stewed in his own dark thoughts, looking resentful, bitter, and in a foul-mood.
When they finally reached the orphanage after leaving the bus and dragging their trunks for several blocks, they easily slipped into their bedroom without encountering Magda. Evidently, the girl had never checked on them and was wholly ignorant that they had even left the place.
Nagini, though, wasn't.
"Where have you been?" she demanded in a furious hiss, the instant that Tom and Harry stepped into their bedroom, uncoiling her body from her place on top of Tom's pillow to skewer them with angry, yellow eyes. "And why didn't you take me with you? I've been alone, bored, all day!"
"It's none of your business where we've been," snapped Tom shortly, while both he and Harry managed to put their trunks by the foot of their beds, occupying the last free space of their small room.
And as Harry then plopped down on his bed to placidly burrow there to continue perusing his book, Tom meanwhile cleared their nightstand and planted Lord Horkos' cage there, right below the open window.
It took Nagini a second to coil her tail and spring upwards, her gaze fixed on the usurper, as she hissed sharply, "What's that?"
Harry's gaze snapped up from the Quidditch book to glance at the snake and his brother, his lips tilting upwards in amusement at the oncoming quarrel.
"That," said Tom acerbically, throwing her a look of warning, "is Lord Horkos. An owl. I bought him and he's mine. Get used to it."
Nagini let out a vibrant, low hiss, as if steam was bursting from her nostrils. "Throw it out! I won't share, this is my territory-"
"This is MY territory," bit out Tom angrily. "You only live here because we let you, so watch what you say and mind your tone. He stays."
Nagini's yellow eyes narrowed to slits. In the next second, she flung herself into mid-air, landed on the floor, and then quickly slithered up one of the legs of Harry's bed, finally swiftly coiling herself on Harry's lap.
She threw at Tom a resentful glare from her new spot, as if saying 'There, see who's my favorite person now.' And Harry shot his brother a smirk as he started to pet her.
Tom, for his part, looked utterly indifferent as he then proceeded to unlatch the door of Lord Horkos' cage.
"What are you doing?" said Harry with alarm. "I don't think that's a good idea-"
"I have to let him out," bit out Tom with irritation. "He has to hunt, doesn't he? And the cage is too small for him to be stuffed there all day."
Harry adamantly shook his head and opened his mouth, but Tom had by then already opened it.
Nagini instantly tensed on Harry's lap, as Lord Horkos pulled his hulking figure out of the cage, hopping and then perching himself on the edge of the nightstand, his sharp talons leaving gouges on the wood.
The owl's big, ugly head instantly snapped around, his red gaze fixing on Nagini with a hungry and vicious glint in it. In the next instant, the creature let out a high-pitched shriek, spanning out his enormous black wings and hunching, as if about to lurch forward in an airborne attack.
Harry's eyes went wide with alarm and he would have dived out of the way if it weren't for Nagini, who still remained on his lap.
Nevertheless, she was a dangerous and crafty creature herself, and Nagini reacted swiftly to the threat.
Propelling herself with the tip of her tail, she pulled herself up to her full height. She was wiry-thin, but fully elongated she towered over Lord Horkos' intimidating height. And as she swayed and undulated from side to side, as if in some kind of tribal dance preluding a fearsome battle, she let out a series of shrilly, rattling hisses - Harry had never heard something like that coming from her.
The two creatures remained thus, their gazes locked in some sort of deathmatch, Lord Horkos shrieking and flapping his wings, Nagini hissing and undulating.
Harry observed them warily, ready to jump to a side the moment the two engaged in a fight, while Tom merely watched them nonchalantly.
To Harry's astonishment, Lord Horkos abruptly let out a gruff hoot, hopped around, and then flung himself out of the window. Nagini let out a smug hiss after that, and went back to coil herself on Harry's lap.
Harry blinked down at her, and then grinned as he started to scratch the tiny, tender scales under her jaw, as he cooed with pride, "Aren't you the scary one."
"I am," she hissed conceitedly, flicking out her forked tongue to contently caress his finger.
Tom scoffed at that, shooting both of them a snide look, to then merely sit on his bed and become immersed in 'Hogwarts: A History'.
A while later, Lord Horkos returned with a dead rat hanging by the tail from his beak. The creature utterly ignored Nagini as he started to gobble down his prey, and Nagini didn't even raise her head from Harry's lap.
Apparently, both creatures had already settled matters in their own way and had reached an agreement of 'live and let live'.
Half an hour had passed by, during which Tom and Harry brushed their teeth and changed to their pajamas to then continue reading their respective books, when the first sounds of activity reached their ears – the muffled, excited voices of children.
"They're back," whispered Harry. He shot Nagini a glance as he hissed urgently, "You know what to do."
She reared her head back to pierce him with a miffed gaze, and then she flung the tip of her tail in Lord Horkos' direction.
"What about the creature?" she spat in a hiss, as if the owl was the most loathsome thing in existence. "If I have to hide, then it should too-"
"He's just an owl," snapped Tom from his bed. "They'll let us keep him." He shot Nagini a harsh glance as he added crisply, "You're a snake and you'd scare them. If they see you, they'll kill you. You already know that."
"I would like to see them try," hissed Nagini, peeling open her maw to display her row of small albeit long, sharp teeth.
"Come, Nagini," said Harry in soothing, soft tones, as he offered her his arm, "it will only be for a while. I'll let you out afterwards, I promise."
She let out a hissed huff of indignation but nevertheless complied, wrapping herself along Harry's forearm. He opened the drawer of the nightstand and helped her slither into it.
Not a moment too soon, when Harry had dived under his covers and hid his book, with Tom doing the same, the door of their room cracked open.
Alice stepped inside with a worried expression on her face. "Are you feeling better, Harry-"
Her mouth hung agape the next instant, her eyes going wide as her gaze flickered from their trunks to Lord Horkos, who was still perched on their nightstand savagely devouring what was left of his rat.
"What's all this? And what's that!" Alice gasped out, looking as if she was about to shriek and run for the hills at the sight of Lord Horkos.
Tom forestalled her by saying smoothly, "He's an owl, completely harmless."
"Owl?" murmured Alice, blinking, and not looking at all convinced as she gazed at the creature again. Then she shook her head and demanded, in a more forceful tone of voice, "What are you doing with an owl?" She gestured at their trunks next. "And what are these!"
"Mr. Dumbledore gave us money for things we had to buy for our school," replied Tom calmly. "Just uniforms and the sort."
Alice gaped at them. "You went to buy clothes? To London-"
"It was his idea," piped in Harry, pulling a miserable expression on his face as he pointed a finger at Tom. "I told him I felt too ill, but he forced me-"
"You did what?" snapped Alice angrily, instantly rounding on Tom. "You said you'd take care of him, that's the only reason why I agreed to leave you behind!"
Tom had already thrown a furious glare at Harry the moment he heard him, but Harry had merely quirked an eyebrow at him.
Really, what had his brother expected? He wasn't going to tell Alice that he had faked the stomachache. Besides, his version of things neatly covered their tracks and was utterly convincing.
"Oh, I shouldn't have believed you," railed Alice at Tom. "Taking care of your sick brother was too much to expect from you, I see! And dragging the poor boy to stores…" With an expression of deep concern she reached Harry's bedside, as she added frantically, "Look at him – he even looks paler than this morning!"
Harry nodded several times, let out a pitiful moan and slowly rubbed his belly, as he peered at her with wide, pained eyes.
"Oh you poor child," she crooned softly, as she sat on his bed and worriedly pressed the palm of her hand on Harry's forehead. "You haven't developed a fever, at least…" She shot Tom a sharp glance and snapped, "Not thanks to you!"
With a huff, Alice rose to her feet and said quietly to Harry, "I'll bring you a cup of chamomile tea, dear. That will help."
The second she was gone, Tom flung off the covers of his bed and jumped to his feet, as he hissed out irately, "You backstabbing, traitorous little-"
"Relax," said Harry calmly with a roll of his eyes. "It worked, didn't it? I don't see why you must get so riled up-"
Tom's dark blue eyes flashed as he took a threatening step forward to loom over Harry's supine form, as he gritted out through clenched teeth with vicious sarcasm, "You don't see why I should-"
"Oh – oh!" gasped out Harry, letting out a loud groan.
Tom gazed at him in startled bewilderment, but Harry ignored it as he continued, now in a suffering and pained tone of voice, "I'm feeling worse – so much worse! My tummy is killing me – I might even vomit!"
He then shot Tom a pointed glance, as he added loftily, "I'm very, very ill. So you don't want Alice to return and see you standing there shouting at me, do you? I suggest you go back to your bed."
Tom stared at him with incredulity for a split second, and then with murder in his eyes, as if he was about to leap forward and savagely strangle him to death. The boy's dark blue eyes narrowed to slits, as he said very, very quietly, "You'll pay for this."
Harry shot him a toothy grin and then merely shrugged. He could deal with anything his brother dished out.
Tom threw at him one last fulminating glare promising painful retribution, before he spun around and slipped into his bed, pulling an impassive expression on his face.
As Harry comfortably burrowed himself under the covers, nearly twiddling his thumbs, he slowly mused out loud, "What do you think Mr. Dumbledore told them?"
Tom and he had discussed the possibilities earlier in the day as they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.
That morning, when they had opened their envelopes, besides the Hogwarts' letters with a list of required items and their classes, they had also discovered cream-hued, glossy parchments with seals on them displaying two intertwined M's.
They had seen that it was from the 'Ministry of Magic'; that had given them quite a lot to talk about.
Tom had fumed and angrily ranted – his brother despised all forms of authority, after all, and held them in contempt. Harry hadn't been thrilled either; it had been the first sign that indicated that the Magical World wasn't the fantasyland he had envisioned.
Furthermore, when they actually read the letters, they had both been very disappointed. Besides a formal greeting welcoming them into the Wizarding World, there had been a long list of rules that under-aged wizards, especially those living in the 'Muggle World', had to follow.
Firstly, they couldn't do magic outside of Hogwarts, not in their homes or anywhere else. Secondly, they couldn't do magic in the presence of muggles. Thirdly, they could tell no muggle about the existence of the Wizarding World; the only exception was immediately family - muggles related to them in the first degree by blood, in which case a Ministry official would have already visited their homes in order to explain matters to them. And finally, the first rule only expired when they became of age – apparently, when they turned seventeen.
If they broke any of those rules, their wands would be snapped, they would be expelled from Hogwarts, and if they were seventeen years old or over, they would also be sent to somewhere called 'Azkaban'. Obviously, it couldn't be a very nice place.
Thus, given that Alice and Kathy were just 'muggles' with no relation to them, they had wondered what Mr. Dumbledore had told them regarding Hogwarts.
The only thing they had surmised was that whatever the wizard had said must have been a very good, convincing lie, because neither of the women had even asked them any questions.
"Eh, Tom, so what do you think he told'em?" pressed on Harry when his brother remained silent.
"I'm not talking to you," spat Tom, as he continued to stare up at the ceiling.
Harry quirked an eyebrow at him. "Are you really going to sulk and brood?"
At that, Tom shot him the nastiest look Harry had ever seen, and Harry uneasily cleared his throat and mumbled quietly, "Er… yeah... do whatever you like…"
Then he quickly rolled to a side, turning his back to Tom, though he could still feel his brother's gaze boring holes into him; it made him feel a bit nervous and uncomfortable. Tom could be very scary when he wanted.
Harry heard rustling sounds and he peeked a glance over his shoulder, seeing Tom getting up from his bed and then moving towards the door.
"Where're you going?" asked Harry in puzzlement.
"I'm going to find out what he said to them," bit out Tom as he yanked the door open. When he caught sight of Harry's beaming grin, he snarled like a wild beast, "I'm not doing it for you, twerp! I want to know myself!"
And with that, he slammed the door shut after him, but Harry kept grinning nonetheless.
Tom fumed as he made his way towards the ground floor, imagining all sorts of ways in which he would take revenge on his 'little brother', his dear 'twin', the imp who had dared to use his wiles against him, persuading him to skip the trip to Southend-on-Sea –and Tom had had great plans for that trip: the cave! – to go to Diagon Alley, and who had then betrayed him in front of Alice.
Why, he had taught the little tyke everything the boy knew!
And then, for a moment, he felt a powerful blaze of pride. Harry had tricked him, and quite cunningly and slyly, at that. Naturally, it was all because of him – since Harry was innately too much of a goody-goody two shoes. Clearly, Harry had grown to be a bit astute due to Tom, because of Tom's lessons and influence.
Those thoughts marginally assuaged his roaring bad-temper. Nevertheless, it didn't mean that he wasn't going to make his 'little brother' pay.
Tom's lips curled upwards in satisfaction, envisioning the enjoyable possibilities. And despite his inward musings, he didn't fail to notice how, as he made his way along the corridors, the children gave him a wide berth. That ultimately lifted up his spirits.
If he had been sentimental, stupid little Harry, most of those children would have been calling out to him, cheerfully blabbering like idiots to tell him all about their seaside trip, all the silly little games they played and the stupid things that Old John Bryce had told them about the Great War, and whatnot.
Instead, Tom was beheld with fear, and was given the instinctual, primal respect that came with that, in his opinion. Thus, he was left blissfully alone and in peace.
At last, he caught sight of the kitchen, where he saw Alice placing a cup of tea on a tray. But Tom dismissed her; it was Mrs. Cole, as the Matron of St. Jerome's, who would know more about it. So he turned to a side and finally reached Kathy's office.
Tom didn't bother to knock. He simply pulled the door open and nonchalantly strolled inside.
Kathy was behind her cluttered desk, looking none the more rested nor refreshed after her trip to the seaside. Her gaze instantly snapped up to sharply glance at him, her expression turning guarded, suspicious, and dour all at the same time.
Well, he despised her too. Tom returned her gaze with a frosty one of his own, as he pulled a chair and smoothly took a seat, not waiting for an invitation.
Kathy's eyes narrowed at that, and then she said briskly, "What can I help you with, Tom?"
"I was wondering," Tom said calmly, "what you knew about the school Harry and I are going to attend."
Kathy blinked at him, as if startled by a trivial question. "Well, I expect you know as much or more than I do. Mr. Bumbleboor went to speak to you, didn't he?"
"He did," replied Tom coolly, "but he didn't give us much information. Just that it was a… private…" he began, gauging her expression with every word he added to see if he was hitting the mark of what she had been told "… boarding… school… somewhere in…"
"In Scotland - yes," cut in Kathy impatiently, nodding her head and waving a hand as if wanting to quickly end a foolish conversation, "that your father selected for you boys, and fully paid, before dying."
Tom's eyebrows nearly shot up to his hairline. But he managed to mask his astonished surprise, and merely placidly gazed back at her, as he intoned softly, "Father… 'our' father – Harry's and mine?"
Kathy stared at him as if wondering if he had taken a hit to the head. "Yes, Tom, who else would it be?"
Tom's eyes marginally widened, but then he cleared his throat and said nonchalantly, "I see. I wonder… if our father enrolled us in the school, you must have asked Mr. Dumbledore for proof. You wouldn't have simply taken his word for it, would you?"
"Of course not," retorted Kathy, looking quite affronted. "I'm the Matron of an orphanage. I wouldn't just let two boys wander off to some mysterious school without having information about it, or documents ascertaining the validity of your enrollment." She shot Tom a most insulted look, as she started to go through the things on top of her desk, as she muttered, "In fact, Mr. Dumberdoor gave me the papers himself – with the information about the school, it's location, and even the contract your father signed before he died in that accident… or was it your grandparents?… I don't quite recall, but it's somewhere here…"
"You say you saw signatures in a contract?" inquired Tom smoothly. "Do you recall the names?"
"Yes, it was…" Kathy trailed off, abruptly deeply frowning and then rubbing her forehead. "Well, I don't quite remember right now… it was something like... like…" She huffed, apparently annoyed at her own faulty memory, and then rummaged through the papers at the right side of her desk. "I remember leaving the contract here… I must have misplaced it..."
Indeed, she only found a blank piece of paper in the place where she would have sworn she had left the document.
Meanwhile, Tom was observing her with the intensity of a hawk, a mesmerizing possibility churning in his mind nearly since the start of their conversation.
To further test his suspicions, Tom leaned forward and absorbed her with his gaze, as he murmured quietly, "I trust that our agreement still stands?"
"Agreement?" Kathy stopped perusing her desk in order to stare back at him with a perplexed frown. "What agreement?"
"The agreement we reached some years ago," said Tom carefully, piercing her with his dark blue gaze, taking notice of any possible twitch in her expression, "one night when I overheard you and Alice arguing about me and my… twin, in the kitchen. And I confronted you, because I was angry about…."
He trailed off, skewering her with his gaze as he waited for her to complete his sentence.
"Um, yes," said Kathy, blinking twice at him. "I think I remember. We argued about…" Her forehead scrunched. "Er, it was about…"
"I was very rude and angry then," supplied Tom slowly, intently staring at her.
"Yes," interjected Kathy flatly, shooting him a wry glance. "I remember that."
Tom shook his head, a contrite expression on his face as he said candidly, "I shouldn't have overreacted in such manner. If you and Alice wanted to convince Harry to go to church, I shouldn't have been so angry about it. I should have let you do it, instead of making you promise to leave him alone -"
"Oh, yes, you might be right! I think I recall now…"
"Of course you do," Tom said warmly, widely smiling at her.
He fluidly rose to his feet, but before he left, he said one more thing, wanting to know just how deep it went.
"I've never thanked you," he whispered quietly, gazing at her with a softness in his eyes, "for helping our mother. Alice told me the story." A gentle, deeply grateful expression unfolded across his face. "You helped my mother bring me to this world. It was a difficult childbirth, from what you told Alice. And then, you…"
"I helped her give birth to Harry too, yes," stuttered Kathy, looking utterly taken aback by Tom's sweet tone, expression, and gratefulness. A pleased, pink hue blossomed on her cheeks, as she added humbly, "Well, I only did what any charitable person would have done."
"You did, indeed," said Tom softly, shooting her a gorgeous, charming smile, "and you have my undying gratitude for it."
Kathy blinked at him, looking a bit dazed.
Tom shot her one last smile –because truly, he felt as if he was walking on clouds– before he calmly strode towards the door.
"Um, Tom! I seemed to have misplaced the papers regarding the school, would you mind telling me-"
"It's called St. Thomas' Boarding School for Boys," said Tom over his shoulder as he opened the door, saying the first name similar to his own despised one which popped into his mind, as he then continued to let the lies smoothly roll out from his tongue, "it's in a town near Edinburgh. On September the first we're expected to catch a train to Edinburgh from King's Cross Station. We'll only return for Christmas and summer holidays."
"Excellent!" Kathy beamed at him as she scribbled down the information. "Thank you, Tom. I'll have Alice accompany you two boys to the station on that date."
Tom merely nodded before strolling out of the office.
"What did you find out?" Harry immediately asked the moment Tom stepped inside their room.
Evidently, Alice had already come and gone, since there was an empty cup of tea sitting on the nightstand. And Harry wasn't expecting anyone else but him, since Nagini was out in full view, now sharing a pillow with Harry, snoozing placidly. Even Lord Horkos had returned to his cage and was sleeping with his head stuck under a wing.
"Dumbledore told them that it's a private boarding school for boys near Edinburgh, called St. Thomas'," replied Tom coolly, as he toed off his shoes and slipped inside his bed, then stretching out a hand to slightly turn the knob of the oil lamp, dimming the light.
Harry propped himself up against the wall, to have a full view of him, though careful to not disturb Nagini at his side, and he said disbelievingly, "That's all?"
Tom shot him a brief glance, and said coolly, "He also told them that our father had put our names down for the school before he died in an accident."
"What?" gasped out Harry, lurching forward on his bed to stare at him. "Dumbledore knows who our father is-"
"Of course not, you nitwit," snapped Tom with aggravation, glowering at him. "How can he, when we don't know ourselves? He lied."
Harry's forehead scrunched as he mumbled, "So our dad isn't dead like he said?"
"Don't know. Don't care," said Tom impassively, shrugging his shoulders with supreme indifference.
Harry huffed at that but made no comments. Then he frowned pensively and finally blurted out incredulously, "So Dumbledore simply said that, and Alice and Kathy believed him? They didn't ask him any questions, or asked for more information about our father or the school?"
"Apparently, no."
Harry blinked at him in puzzlement, and then huffed out in disappointment, "Well, I expected something more. I thought Mr. Dumbledore must've done some trick or spun some great, complex lie to cover it all up…"
Tom's lips tilted upwards.
He could scarcely believe it. Dumbledore had done something to Mrs. Cole, something incredible, amazing, and wondrous. It was evident. Somehow, the man had altered the woman's memories. And he must have done the same to Alice as well, now that he thought about it.
Oh, he knew that it could only mean that Dumbledore was aware that Tom and Harry weren't twins. Mrs. Cole must have told the man before he changed or wiped her memories.
Of course, it made Tom extremely suspicious regarding the man's intentions. Why had the man perpetuated the lie?
No doubt the wizard would use that information against them in the future, when it served the man's interests. That could be the only explanation possible of why Dumbledore did what he did. Thus, Tom would definitely keep an eye on him at school.
Yet, maybe Dumbledore didn't know that Tom was aware of the truth about them not being twins. It depended on whether Kathy had told him or not, and Tom had no way of ascertaining that since the woman was nearly senile!
She didn't even remember what they had been arguing about, that night in the kitchen when he had suffocated her until she passed out. She didn't seem to remember much, and clearly firmly believed that Tom and Harry were twins.
At least, she remembered Tom's mother still, but apparently had firmly convinced herself that Harry had popped out right after him. Funny, since that had been exactly the version of things that Tom had told Harry.
Regardless, the point was that Dumbledore had modified the minds of two women.
It had never even crossed Tom's mind that such thing was possible! And if something so extraordinary and amazingly useful could be done with magic, then he could envision any sort of all other things that could also be done!
Tom had never felt so exhilarated in his life.
His head was filled with imaginings of all the things he could learn to do, and the immense scope of infinite possibilities that that represented for him and his future. Obtaining everything he wanted for him and Harry could be so simple!
Furthermore, apparently there was utter impunity and no repercussions. Dumbledore had erased the memories of two muggle women as if it was a trifle, or something he did everyday, after all.
Of course, according to the Ministry of Magic's letter, Tom couldn't do magic outside school until he turned seventeen. But it mattered little; he could be patient, or perhaps he could find ways around that.
Tom's smile bloomed.
Harry caught sight of something from the corner of his eyes, and he snapped his head around to gaze at his brother.
"You're…" Harry had to take a double glance to be certain, and then he stared at him, flabbergasted. "Are you smiling?"
Harry peered at him with wide eyes. He didn't remember his brother smiling ever before in his life, not once.
It was extremely disturbing. It couldn't bode anything good, Harry was certain.
"What's the matter with you?" mumbled Harry, taken aback, never peeling his gaze away from his brother. And then Tom's smile widened even further, and Harry sputtered out warily, "It's creepy."
Tom let out a soft chuckle.
"That's even creepier!" gasped out Harry in alarm, pointing a finger at him. "Stop it!"
Tom loudly snorted and then shot him a glance. "What – I can't be cheerful for once?"
"No," retorted Harry vehemently, as if it had been the dumbest question he had ever heard. "You aren't a jolly chap, in case you hadn't noticed."
Tom scoffed, but still continued to smile up at the ceiling, with his arms indolently crossed under his head.
"It's bloody spooky, it is," groused out Harry, sleepily rolling to his side so that he wouldn't have to see it anymore.
The three weeks before September the first arrived, passed by in a flash, but not without their share of incidents.
Firstly, things had gotten very amusing and enjoyable for Harry the day that Tom plucked up a bit of courage and finally informed Nagini that they would be gone for nearly a whole year and she wasn't coming along.
Their snake hadn't taken the news well, even less when she realized that Lord Horkos, the usurper of her humans and territory, would be accompanying them.
After a hissed shouting match between Tom and her, Nagini had turned vicious.
Not a day passed by when she didn't spring at Tom the moment the boy entered the bedroom, with her jaws open, ready to chomp down on whatever part of his body she could reach.
It was a pity that Tom had a large dose of self-preservation instincts, because he always managed to dodge her no matter where she popped out from.
It would have made Harry's day to see his brother with his arms and hands covered with bite marks. Nevertheless, he sniggered and chortled and encouraged Nagini in every attack. Tom murderously glared at him, but it was worth it.
Tom became unhealthily paranoid for his own sake, and was always warily glancing at shadows and corners, in case Nagini sprung forth. The boy couldn't even sleep a wink at nights, because she had learned how to reach their bedroom from the outside by slithering up the pipes –Harry had been the one to sweetly suggest to her that solution– and their window had to remain open for Lord Horkos and his hunting trips.
Thus, Harry was vastly entertained by them during those weeks.
Secondly, as Harry knew would happen, the neighborhood became aware of the presence of a large, horrendous bird terrorizing their inhabitants with the mere sight of him.
Wild rumors ran amok, and every neighbor had their own opinion of what the creature could be: some sort of vicious eagle; inexplicably, a vulture; an airborne carnivore aberration that had escaped from the London Zoo; and whatnot.
Until, one late evening, just as Harry and Tom were about to slip into their beds, they heard shouts coming from the street.
"There it is – THERE! It has my Miss Mittens!" was shrieking a woman at the top of her lungs, sounding hysteric.
Tom and Harry had instantly reached their window, to see Lord Horkos up in the air with a huge, fat animal dangling by its broken neck from his beak.
The shrieking woman was Mrs. Smith, the butcher's wife, and her husband was already with riffle in hand, shooting bullets up into the sky. The man's aim was terrible, but it didn't mean that he faltered in his attempts, the loud banging noises soon waking up the whole neighborhood.
And they all knew who Miss Mittens was, of course. Mrs. Smith's adored fat, old cat, that spent her days drowsing at the butcher's doorstep among pots of gardenias, like a beached whale.
"I told you he'd be nothing but trouble," chirped Harry merrily, as he peered out the window.
Tom fulminated him with a dark glare, and then paled when he saw Lord Horkos flying towards them with his prized prey.
As much as Tom wildly flailed his arms, apparently trying to convey to his pet to turn around and go somewhere else, the owl obviously didn't get the message.
Looking very smug, the beast flew in through their window, perched himself on their nightstand, and then proceeded to open up the dead cat by the use of his large, sharp beak, soon beginning to devour Miss Mittens' innards.
"And here I thought that owls only ate insects and mice," remarked Harry in a mutter, his stomach sickly squirming at the gory sight.
"It went into the orphanage!" was soon heard coming from the street.
At that, Harry shot Tom an impish grin and wriggled his eyebrows. He wanted to see how his brother would get out of this one.
Harry half expected their neighbors would come with torches and pitchforks in hand to pummel at their door.
Tom, the little sneak, was quick to shove Harry out of their room, ordering him to find out what was happening.
Harry merely complied because he was feeling generous, and because he wasn't the guilty party this time and thus could enjoy the proceedings without having to worry about his own skin.
He reached the staircase of their floor and peered above the rail to watch what was going on at the entrance of the orphanage.
Their neighbors hadn't come calling for bloody murder, except the butcher who still held his riffle, but they had pounded on the orphanage's door as they bellowed.
It was Kathy who had greeted them in her usual brisk, no-nonsense manner, and now a cacophony of angered or indignant shouts could be heard as she answered them.
"Ye're tellin' me that creature's an owl? That's no owl!"
"It took my Miss Mittens!"
"What d'you mean it's the pet of one of your orphans? Since when are owls pets!"
"One of the Riddle boys? It's always 'em – those troublemakers!"
Harry merely watched them in silence, undetected. He had known that his days of being the adored little orphan of the neighborhood had ended when Mr. Jenkins had been fired and the spiteful, vicious man had spent all his nights in the pub bellowing that his disfigurement and loss of an eye had been Tom and Harry's fault.
And Tom, of course, besides that added stain on his ignominious reputation, had always had Father Patrick –the neighborhood's respected priest- publicly railing against him.
"We demand they come forth with the beast – let us get a shot at it and be done with it."
Then, Harry barely heard Kathy's calm voice saying something about boarding school.
"They're leaving?" said someone with a much-relieved tone of voice. "And they're taking the creature with 'em?"
Whatever she replied to that, it seemed to soothe their ruffled feathers, though some still grumbled as they left.
Thus, Harry returned to his bedroom utterly disappointed that his brother hadn't gotten in trouble, and merely said to Tom, "You have Kathy to thank, for saving your hide."
Tom didn't reply to that except to shoot him a sneer, and then glanced at his owl with irritation; his delusions of what a perfect pet it would be, as a tool of intimidation without bringing negative consequences, crushed.
The third incident - well, it hadn't been an incident per se, but rather his brother being the mean, spiteful git that he could sometimes be.
One afternoon, Harry returned to their bedroom to see Tom standing there, looking quite smug and pleased with himself, with a nasty glint of relishing anticipation in his eyes.
Instantly, Harry became on guard, ready for anything that his brother could suddenly dish out at him. But Tom didn't move an inch; he merely smirked at him and then pointedly glanced at Harry's bed.
Cautiously, Harry took a step forward to peer at it. There was only a handful of ashes on top of his covers.
"What's that?" he said, puzzled.
"Notice anything missing?" intoned Tom pleasantly.
Harry frowned and threw his gaze around. Then he did a double take at his closed trunk; that morning he had left his Quidditch book on top of it.
"What did you do!" gasped out Harry, his eyes wide with horrified disbelief.
Tom shot him a wide, poignant smile. "Why, I simply stuck your precious little book in the playroom's fireplace, watched it burn to cinders while I chortled, and then brought back its ashes for you to admire."
Harry didn't quite know what took possession of him. But he saw red - he felt such a surge of blinding rage as he had never before.
One second he was standing there, staring at his brother with aghast incredulity, then in the next, he had leaped at him like a feral, demented beast, letting out a shrilly, high-pitched shriek of a battle-cry that he would later refuse to admit that it had come out of him.
His reaction took Tom by surprise, no doubt. But it didn't stop Harry from pummeling him as viciously hard as he could. Tom replied in kind, and they were soon grappling with each other, landing blows and kicks as they rolled in the little space that was between their beds, hitting their heads and limbs against furniture and whatnot, like a pair of wild street cats.
Tom was a head taller than Harry, but while Tom had sneered at learning how to fight from Mr. Hutchins, Harry had not, and he knew quite a few tricks and had had practice.
Not to mention that Harry had always completely ignored Bob's rules about what was unsportsmanlike. He had good teeth and a strong bite, so Harry also used it in this occasion, chomping down on one of Tom's arms without letting go, like a determined bulldog, while he flung his small fists at Tom's ribcage.
Obviously, their furious screams and yells soon caused a crowd of children to gather at their door. And in a few seconds, they overheard the caregivers arriving at the site, shouting at them to stop.
However, they were all women and Harry wasn't ashamed to admit that he thus completely ignored them. If Bob Hutchins had been there and had told him to stop, he would have. But really, what did girls know about the need to fight to stand up for oneself?
Moreover, Tom wouldn't have obeyed anyone for any reason. Thus neither of them stopped and they completely ignored their spectators.
Until, something icily chilly splashed down on them, and Tom and Harry jumped away from each other, sputtering out water from their mouths and haggardly gasping for breath.
Drenched like pathetic kittens in the rain, they both stared at Kathy Cole, who was glaring at them with thunder in her eyes, a dripping, empty pot hanging from her hands.
"This," she snapped furiously, "is unacceptable. I expected better from you both!"
She said 'both', but she was staring at Harry in particular, because truly, it was well known that the woman had given up on Tom a long time ago. And Harry then felt a bit chagrined at the reprimand, because even though he didn't love her like he did Alice, he was still fond of Mrs. Cole.
Alice then ran into the room, with a roll of bandages in one hand and a bottle of iodine in the other, ready to gently nurse them back to health.
However, Kathy instantly forestalled her, barring her with an outstretched arm, as she snapped, "Let them feel the pain of their own stupidity." Then she skewered them with her gaze and added briskly, "You're to remain locked in your room for the day. And I don't want to hear a peep coming from here. One sound of fighting and you'll be grounded for a week."
And with that, she herded the rest of the children away and then banged their door shut.
Harry and Tom dragged themselves up and took opposites side of the room, each flopping down to sit at the edge of their beds.
Still with water dripping from his hair and clothes, feeling every crook and cranny of his body aching, Harry shot his brother a resentful, baleful glare, as he bit out, "You crossed the line."
"I don't know why you're throwing a hissy fit," acidly sneered Tom at him. "You don't even like books-"
"I liked that one, and you knew it!" spat Harry furiously. "You had no right!"
Tom shot him a vindictive smirk at that, as he intoned sweetly, "See what happens for turning against me?"
"This is because I told Alice it was your idea to go shopping when I was 'ill'?" gritted out Harry, angry beyond measure. "Then you should have done something else to get back at me. I would have never burned one of your books. And that one was a present!"
"It was a present," mimicked Tom in a high-pitched, childish voice, throwing him a snide sneer.
Harry's green eyes narrowed to slits. In the next second, he shot him a nasty, smug smirk. "Ah. I see. So that's the matter. You're jealous because I made a new friend. You're always jealous of me because I have people who like me and you don't!"
"I'm not jealous of you, you twit! And I don't want or need friends!" snarled Tom looking indignant, flinging out a leg to kick Harry in the shin.
Harry's eyes narrowed again in anger, and he returned the kick as hard as he could, as he intoned mockingly, "You kick like a little girl. You punch like one too, come to that!"
Tom's nostrils flared and he viciously kicked Harry again.
In no time, they had engaged in a kicking battle, both of them gripping the sides of their beds for support, snarling and panting heavily, until Tom roared, "Enough!"
Harry immediately stopped, but only because he was wheezing by then, his legs pulsing painfully, no doubt black and blue, and he could no longer move without groaning.
When he recovered his breath, Harry merely shot his brother a scathing glance and slowly moved to get some textbooks from his trunk.
They couldn't leave the room according to Kathy and he wasn't going to speak to Tom, so he had no choice but to entertain himself with his Hogwarts books.
The idea didn't much appeal to him, but in the end he curled himself up in his bed, inwardly whimpering due to the aches, and then discovered that the 'Charms' textbook was actually interesting; it had loads of animated pictures of wand movements and the spells did pretty awesome things.
He soon became immersed in it, while Tom read his stupid 'Hogwarts: A History', because his brother, know-it-all book-muncher that he was, had already flipped through all of his textbooks.
The following day, Harry had already forgiven him, because he still couldn't hold a grudge for long and being angry at his brother was simply exhausting and left him feeling miserable.
Nevertheless, Harry had managed to wring from his brother the promise that Tom would replace the book. He had mercilessly nagged him and even set Nagini on him twice until Tom caved in.
Harry didn't care how Tom did it: whether he had to steal galleons to buy the book, borrow them, nick the book itself, or thoroughly charm the shopkeeper so that he could have it for free. Harry just wanted that book back, and he had even been magnanimous and had given Tom the time frame of one year.
And thus, they had made their peace, as they always did in the end, no matter what.
Finally, just two days before they had to leave for Hogwarts, the last incident happened, which inevitably left Harry's innocent sensibilities a bit traumatized.
They had been peacefully sleeping in their beds when they were woken up by a girly scream.
Harry would have blissfully ignored it and gone back to sleep if it wasn't because the scream got louder and then he recognized the voice that started to frantically shout.
"Amy is bleeding to death! Help – HELP!"
It was Mary, one of Amy Benson's friends and the one who shared her bedroom.
Worriedly, Harry dragged himself out of his bed and reached the corridor. Tom trailed after him at a sedate pace, surely to see what the dunderheads of the orphanage were up to and to sneer and mock them.
Many other boys had already left their bedrooms as well; Harry saw his friends Eric Whalley and Billy Stubbs among them.
Going together, they quickly went down the stairs and reached the girls' floor, seeing a group of girls crowding the threshold of Amy's room.
Harry and his friends managed to elbow their way inside and then stood rooted in place, staring at Amy who was hysterically sobbing on her bed. There were red stains on the sheets and on her nightgown.
"What's the matter with her?" muttered Billy Stubbs, looking alarmed. "Is that blood?"
Harry could only stare without replying. It did look serious.
When he was about to take the steps to reach Amy and see where she was injured, to try to help her, Kathy appeared, barking out for everyone to make way.
By her looks, she had been having another late night in her office going through the orphanage's accounts. Alice and Robert were with her, but evidently those two had simply been spending time talking to each other in the kitchen, as they had taken to do during the year.
"Oh, stop your crying, lass," said Kathy impatiently, looking thoroughly vexed. "We told you about this two months ago when you turned thirteen. You knew it would happen at some point."
That didn't seem to help matters because Amy let out a wail of despair.
Finally, it was Alice who started patting her on the back comfortingly, as she said gently, "It only means you've become a woman, Amy. It's not a bad thing."
Evidently Amy didn't think so because, if possible, she burst into even greater tears, her sobs turning more wretched and panicky.
"She's a woman now?" piped in Eric Whalley bewildered. "How's that?"
"But she's bleeding!" said Billy adamantly. "Is she hurt or what?"
Kathy snapped her head around at that, to stare at them before she commanded sharply, "All of you boys, out! You have no business here." She shot Alice a glance, and added briskly, "Alice take charge of them, I'll take care of Amy."
Alice was quick to round them up and herd them away, but Harry refused to leave until he knew if his friend was alright, so he asked, "What's happening to her?"
"Perhaps you should explain it to them," said Robert Hutchins then. "They're old enough to know about that and about-"
"Yes, yes, fine," cut in Alice, looking weary and none too thrilled with the suggestion.
She took them to the playroom, though Harry noticed that the boys younger than him and those older by four or more years were left behind.
Furthermore, Tom had tried to slip away but Alice had instantly caught sight of his attempt and had said sharply, "You too, Tom."
"Please," Tom had scoffed out with a snide look on his face. "I already know about-"
"I don't care what you know or don't know," had interjected Alice impatiently. "You're coming along."
Tom had fumed in his indignation, apparently because it was an utter waste of his time or because he was being bundled with half-brained children. Nonetheless, he followed them in the end.
Alice then stood before them, with Robert by her side, who nodded at her as if giving her encouragement. She seemed to need it, because Alice looked fidgety and flustered.
Whatever she was going to explain had to be very important, Harry decided.
"Well, let's see," began Alice, "there are bees and flowers…"
Tom let out a loud snort, and she fulminated him with a glance, but then went on.
"What's she talking about?" whispered Harry to his friends in utter bafflement as Alice carried on with her explanation about bees carrying pollen seeds and planting them in flowers and whatnot.
"Gardening, by the sound of it," replied Eric Whalley, shrugging his shoulders.
"… and then, the married couple gets a visit by a stork, who carries their baby and leaves it at their doorstep…"
"Bees, flowers, and now storks?" whispered Billy Stubbs looking thoroughly confused.
"… and so, that's how babies are made," concluded Alice, shooting them a smile.
Harry frowned, highly puzzled. "But what do plants and bees-"
"And the stork!" whispered Billy to him, nudging him with an elbow.
Harry nodded, and continued loudly, "- and storks, have to do with Amy being hurt? And I didn't understand the baby-making part either."
Alice blanched, looking uneasy, and then she cleared her throat. "Well, you see, when a girl's body matures, when she's a certain age, she starts bleeding because it means she can have babies. But it's not a subject for polite conversation," she added, shooting them a warning glance. "So I don't want you boys talking or bothering the girls about it."
"But girls bleed from where?" piped in Eric Whalley, frowning. "Because I didn't see that Amy had an injury. And why would girls bleed if they can have babies?"
Harry nodded in agreement, extremely befuddled. "Yes, because you said that it was the bees and flowers that made babies and the stork that carries it to the parents. And I don't see how plants can have babies-"
Robert Hutchins loudly cleared his throat, looking amused for a brief moment, to then gently say to Alice, "Perhaps it would be best if I explained matters to them?"
"Oh yes, you're quite right!" exhaled out Alice, looking mightily relieved. "Of course it's better if a man explains it to boys."
And with that, she practically fled from the room, leaving Harry blinking after her, perplexed.
"Let's start from the beginning," said Robert calmly, "our male anatomy and how it works. We have penises..."
"He's talking about our willies!" sniggered Eric Whalley under his breath.
"… and you're at an age in which your body is maturing. Some of you might already be doing it. There's no shame in that. You won't turn blind or get warts on your hands. It's a completely natural…"
Harry gazed at him with wide eyes, while some of the older boys were either twittering and snickering, or looking uncomfortable, with red blotches on their faces.
"... I won't speak about the female anatomy. It's only proper that we preserve their modesty," went on to say Robert. "Only know that when you fall in love with a woman and after you marry her, your body will know what to do. You'll have sexual intercourse with your wife, or what's simply called 'sex', and your seed – as Alice tried to explain with the metaphor of bees and flowers- will be planted in your wife's womb, and your child will grow there until it's ready to be born."
Well, that had certainly cleared up many things for him, Harry thought. Though he wasn't quite sure if he had wanted to know that much. It did sound awfully troublesome to him.
"Why can't you tell us how sex's done?" groused out Eric Whalley with dissatisfaction.
"You're all a bunch of dimwits!" abruptly snapped Tom, apparently finally having reached his limit of how much nonsense he could withstand. "We've all already seen what sex is! It's what the mongrels do in the streets – one dog mounting the other, sticking it inside and rutting. That's what people do too, you simpletons!"
Harry stared at him with wide eyes, struck by the monumental revelation, with his mouth hanging agape.
Most of the other boys were wearing similar expressions on their faces as well.
"Tom!" said Robert sharply, his tone of voice censuring and reprimanding. "Enough of that."
"What – it's true!" bit out Tom with impatient annoyance. "And what you said is a load of codswallop. Men don't have to marry stupid women to have sex – they both want it for the pleasure it apparently gives. And you don't have to marry for that. I bet that half the children here are bastards, so that proves it!"
Harry blinked, but his mind was still reeling with Tom's first explanation. He gazed at him and said slowly as the astounding idea unfolded in his mind, "So a man mounts a woman like the dogs do, and that's sex?"
"Yes," said Tom coolly, just at the same time that Robert quickly said with alarm, "No!"
Harry stared at them warily, his gaze flickering from one to the other.
"People are not animals, Harry," then said Robert gently, shooting Tom a vexed glance. "We are civilized. We fall in love, we marry, and we form a family. And sex should be an act of love-"
Tom let out a disdainful snort, shooting Robert a scathing glance to then turn to Harry. "You can marry or not. You can do whatever you want, Harry. Don't let him convince you otherwise."
And with that, he spun around and strolled out of the room.
After that, Mr. Hutchins reiterated his view of things, but most of the boys were whispering among themselves regarding the things Tom had said and didn't pay him much attention. So the man apparently gave up and let them return to their rooms for a good night of sleep.
Two days later, Harry was parting from his friends at the orphanage.
After the day in which Lord Horkos had murdered and gobbled down Miss Mittens, the news that the Riddle brothers were going to a boarding school in Scotland had spread like wildfire throughout the neighborhood. Which inevitably led to Harry's friends finding out before he came around to telling them himself.
Harry's friends' reactions had been varied.
Eric Whalley had sulked for three days, envious that Harry was going to some private school while the rest of them were stuck in the neighborhood's public one.
Though then it seemed to pass and he wished Harry the best, imparting to him some sound advice: "Just bully them if those snotty, rich boys stick up their noses in the air at you!"
Harry had nodded at him, though he didn't know why everyone seemed to be under the impression that 'St. Thomas' School' was a place for posh people.
Billy Stubbs had been sincerely happy and excited for his friend, and had hugged him, making Harry promise that he would write.
And Amy Benson had taken the news hard, clinging to Harry, asking him not to leave and even sobbing twice on his shoulder.
That had made Harry feel very uncomfortable; he didn't like to see girls cry, and it always made him feel as if it was entirely his fault, somehow. And he was terrible at trying to comfort them, to boot.
She wasn't there at the entrance of the orphanage to wish him farewell like Billy and Eric. Apparently, according to her friend Mary, she was in her bedroom crying.
The moment he heard that, Harry quickly waved at Eric and Billy, grabbed his trunk, and left the place as fast as possible, just in case Amy abruptly decided to make an appearance.
At last, Tom and Harry loaded their trunks and Lord Horkos' cage at the back of Robert Hutchins' delivery wagon.
Alice was accompanying them to the station and Robert had kindly offered to drive them there. Harry, of course, tried to grasp the opportunity.
He peered up at Bob and chimed, "Can I drive?"
The man seemed to give it some consideration, but Alice instantly forestalled it by snapping, "Absolutely not! He shouldn't have taught you how to drive in the first place – you're just a child!"
Harry pouted as endearingly as he could manage, but it didn't seem to work on Alice in this occasion.
However, apparently it did with Mr. Hutchins. The man patted him on the head, shot him a wink and whispered, "I'll let you drive when you come back for the holidays - how's that?"
Harry beamed at him, and so he obediently sat at the back of the wagon with Tom, while Robert took the wheel and Alice sat with him at the front.
And thus, they made their way to King's Cross Station.