Author's Note:
This fanfic is in the process of being turned into a free audiobook read by Sam Gabriel, voice actor extraordinaire. The first three chapters are up already. I can't link to them here since ffn doesn't allow links, but I've linked to them from the Archive of Our Own version of this story. You can also find them on Sam's website, which you can find by searching for Sam Gabriel voice actor.
Also, today, December 30, at noon Eastern Time (same time zone as New York City), Sam will read some more of this fic live on my Discord server as she does every other Friday. (You can get to my Discord server by following the link in Archive of Our Own.) She's up to the end of chapter 5. She'll edit the recording into a polished audiobook later. Feel free to listen in on the live reading, which is guaranteed to be full of amusing bloopers and some colorful language from Sam. You can heckle her and me in the text chat.
I wish all my readers a happy 2023 or 1929 or whatever New Year you celebrate.
—
In Piccadilly Circus, Tom found Mrs. Prewett and Tessie peering up through the chilly drizzle at the imposing Neo-Byzantine architecture of the Criterion.
"Good evening Mrs. Prewett," said Tom. "And Tessie, that hat looks lovely on you."
Mrs. Prewett turned to him. "Oh Tom, I'm so glad we found you. Algie told us to meet him in the roof garden, but are we at the right building? That roof doesn't look like it has a garden, and besides, the weather—"
"This is the right building," Tom assured the Prewetts. "The Criterion's roof garden is indoors."
Mrs. Prewett blinked while Tessie's coral lips quirked in amusement.
"And also in Italy," Tom added to make Tessie giggle. "Come on, I'll show you the way."
Tom offered his right arm to Tessie, who took it and leaned into him with a relieved sigh. He offered his left arm to Mrs. Prewett, but she declined. "Oh no, you two look so perfect together, I'd just be in the way."
Tom led them into the building.
They paused to look up at the orchestra suspended in a gilded cage overhead, filling the grand entrance hall with music. "I wish I could stay here," said Tessie. "This world is so full of wonders, and our world…" she shivered.
"Yes, I must say, Tom," said Mrs. Prewett, "I'm exceedingly grateful to have you as a guide for these escapes from reality, especially considering what's been happening. Between the Halloween attack, and those disasters in Hogsmeade and Knockturn Alley, I hardly feel safe in our world. Being here is such a relief."
"Do you really think it was werewolves?" Tessie asked Tom.
"Ignis is the Dark creature expert," said Tom, "so I trust his judgment. If he says werewolves attacked Hogsmeade, and nearly attacked Knockturn Alley, that's what happened."
Tessie was troubled. "But in Lou Garou—"
"That's fiction, dear," said Mrs. Prewett. "Of course real werewolves are vicious beasts, not like Lou at all. Don't argue with Tom. He knows what he's talking about."
"I also trust Ignis when he says that Lou Garou is based on real werewolves," said Tom.
"But they can't both be true!" exclaimed Tessie.
"Enjoy the music, dear," said Mrs. Prewett. "We can forget our troubles for the evening."
"Grindelwald and I are both wizards," said Tom. "But we're rather different, aren't we? Only one of us will conquer the world."
Tessie giggled and nodded, then looked sly. "You know, I've never actually seen the two of you in the same place."
Tom laughed. "He's blond, so we're obviously completely different people."
"I can't argue with that reasoning," said Tessie.
"Ah, there you are," said Algie. "Odd that they don't sell peanuts here to toss into the cage for the musicians."
"Algie!" exclaimed Tessie. "I'm so glad to see you."
"Yes," said Mrs. Prewett. "Thank you for suggesting this place. It's spectacular."
"Have you seen the roof garden yet?" Algie asked.
"No," said Mrs. Prewett.
"Well let's go." Algie led the way. "It's the closest you can get to an Italian summer in Piccadilly in winter."
Once they got to the roof garden, the maître d' led them through picturesque Italy, under a flimsy blue sky twinkling with stars, past a fountain and some tall dark cypresses, to their table, shaded by a pergola draped with golden-leafed vines heavy with purple grapes. From that vantage point, they had a fine view of distant snow-capped mountains painted on the walls. There were two extra chairs, for Lulu and Nancy would join them as soon as they got off work.
"The orchestra isn't very lively now," Algie apologized, "but after dinner, it really swings. It'll be led by Colondon the Italian violinist. His previous engagement was at the Russian imperial court."
"I'm looking forward to it," said Mrs. Prewett. "And what a lovely space. Look at those cozy little nooks behind the trees. Why, a couple could sneak a kiss behind one of those, if they were so inclined." She raised an eyebrow and smiled at Tom.
"Mother!" complained Tessie, blushing magenta.
"I'm just admiring the decor, dear. It's so charmingly designed." Mrs. Prewett looked back to her menu. "But first let's order. You need to satisfy one appetite to get the energy to satisfy another, that's what I always say."
"Must you say it in public?" pleaded Tessie.
Dinner was exquisite, although Algie said it was noticeably different from dinners he'd had in Italy. Tales of Algie's travels provided welcome entertainment for the rest of the meal.
After dinner, the lively music started. Tom danced the requisite number of dances with Tessie and her mother, then drifted away to dance with other friends, including Lulu and Nancy when they arrived. He escorted Nancy back to their table to rest after their dance, leaving her chatting with Lulu, Tessie, and Algie, who were similarly taking a break. The band was still lively and Tom wasn't yet tired, so he left them and scanned the crowd for a new dance partner.
Two gentlemen at the edge of the dance floor caught his eye because they had their coats draped over their arms, which was surprising, as everyone else had left theirs at the coat check. They were very stylish coats, satin linings shining under the lights. In fact the gentlemen were fine examples of muggle fashion to emulate in general. Keeping up with trends in two worlds took careful study. Tom could sit this dance out if necessary. Drawing close enough to examine seam placement also subjected him to overhearing their conversation:
"I'm no expert in these dances myself," said the one with the notably stylish trousers.
"You're bound to be better at them than I," said the one with the exquisitely tailored waistcoat.
"I suppose I could teach the basics. But you'd be better off asking some of these girls to dance. They could teach you. And it would look, you know, more appropriate."
"I know, that again. But it doesn't seem right for me to ask them to dance when I don't know how. Couldn't I wait for them to ask me? Then the resulting disaster would be their own fault for having chosen the wrong partner."
"I'm sure it won't be a disaster," Mr. Stylish Trousers assured his friend. "And girls don't do that here. It's one of the things."
Mr. Tailored Waistcoat considered that. "I'll count that as an advantage overall, not being pestered. Still, it makes finding a dance partner awkward."
"It'll be easier if I can find some people to introduce you to."
"I don't want to embarrass you."
"You'll be fine! You pass perfectly, really, and if you don't, I can explain away anything by saying you're drunk. Come on. I think I know that girl over there." Mr. Stylish Trousers led his friend to Tom's own table, so Tom followed, intrigued.
"Good evening, Lulu," said the stylish-trousered gentleman.
Lulu looked up, blinking. "Randall!" she exclaimed. "It's great to see you again!"
"Likewise."
"Everyone, I have to introduce you to a great bloke," said Lulu. "This is Randall Godfrey. Randall, these are my friends Nancy Baker, Tessie Prewett, Algie Clamdowne-Clamdowne, and that's Tom Riddle lurking behind you for some reason."
The two gentlemen spun to face him, looking more startled than the situation seemed to call for, although Mr. Tailored Waistcoat seemed torn between looking at Tom or Tessie.
"Pleased to meet you," said Tom, offering his hand to shake theirs. That clinched it: the faces looked different, but those were Briar and Bramble's hands. Tom felt scars he couldn't see.
Bramble, or Randall, whatever his name was, introduced Briar. "This is my roommate Brian Sinomine."
Hands were shaken and pleasantries exchanged.
"Join us, please," said Algie. "Any friend of Lulu's is a friend of mine."
"Lulu has a lot of friends," said Nancy.
"So do I," said Algie.
"Thank you for the invitation, but I see you don't have enough chairs," observed Briar. Chairs were a hot commodity on New Year's Eve, and their table had only one extra, meant for Mrs. Prewett, who had vanished as usual.
"You could bring over a chair from your table," suggested Nancy.
"We don't actually have a table of our own," said Bramble. "We arrived after dinner, for the dancing."
"I thought the Roof Garden dance floor was open only to those who had dinner here," said Algie, confused.
"They must be doing something different tonight, for New Year's," explained Lulu.
"Of course," said Algie agreeably.
Tom nabbed a chair from a nearby table foolishly left unguarded, and the party rearranged themselves to incorporate the new members. Algie called a waiter to bring two more champagne flutes and filled them for his new friends, who accepted them with thanks.
Lulu expanded on her introduction. "Randall's worth knowing. He can find anything. I was helping my friend Bea get some clothes and stuff when she first moved here, and she didn't have a lot of money, so I took her to Portobello Road. She found these beautiful boots, almost new, but they were too big for her, and Randall here saw how sad she was, and he put them back in the bin and went rummaging around in it and found a pair that looked exactly the same, but just her size! And I swear I'd already searched that bin thoroughly and I didn't see them. He's a very talented rag-and-bone man."
"Rag and bone?" Tessie was confused by this muggle job title. She looked at Bramble in confusion.
Bramble rescued her with an explanation. "We search for treasure in jumble sales, rummage shops, and the like. Sometimes it needs a bit of repair, some scratches buffed out, perhaps a stain removed, a bit of polish, and we can sell it for a great deal more than we spent on it. These clothes we're wearing, for example, are all things we salvaged and repaired."
Nancy gasped. "But you two look like a million pounds! I thought you were gentlemen. Finding clothes like that in a rummage shop, it seems like magic."
"Yes," said Tessie, "and a great deal of skill." She fixed her suspicious gaze on Tom. "Is this another one of those situations where I introduce you to someone you already know?"
"Of course not," said Tom. "Lulu did introductions this time."
Tessie was not appeased.
"What's this?" Algie asked.
Tessie complained about the trick Tom and Ignis had played on her.
"Good one," said Lulu with an appreciative nod at Tom.
"Hey!" protested Tessie. "I thought you were my friend."
"Of course, sorry," said Lulu. "Girls have to stick together. Tom is a man, therefore an untrustworthy scoundrel. He already knew Randall and Brian before I introduced them, he was just pretending not to. You could see it in their eyes. How they know each other is none of our business," she said firmly to Tessie.
"You'll have to tell me later," Tessie said to Tom.
"I don't, actually," said Tom. "I'm so much more mysterious this way. Now you can exercise your creativity coming up with explanations, which is much more entertaining than being burdened with the truth."
"Tom's a man of mystery," agreed Algie cheerfully. "Like Lou Garou."
Briar and Bramble's attention snapped to Algie. "You've read Lou Garou?" asked Bramble.
"Oh yes. Quite a ripping yarn, what? You've read it too?"
Briar and Bramble looked at each other, then back to Algie. "Yes," they said.
"Sorry," said Briar. "We assumed you were a…" he trailed off, glancing at Lulu and Nancy uncertainly.
"It's true that I'm not usually much of a reader," said Algie agreeably. "That book is great fun, though. So creative. The bit about his father disowning him, that was frightening. Hit a bit too close to home, that part. And the end! 'Remember, I will always love you!' 'Sure, I've got a good memory.' And then wham, 'Obliviate!'" Algie wielded his empty champagne flute like a wand for emphasis. "Bloody brilliant."
Bramble recoiled like someone who really, really didn't want to get sprinkled with drops of champagne.
Briar looked around nervously. "Keep it down, man," he whispered to Algie. "We don't want the muggles to overhear."
Algie laughed. "Right, that was a fun chapter too." He reached for the bottle in the ice bucket to refill his champagne flute.
"I think you've had enough already," said Bramble.
"Have some sparkling water," said Tom, filling Algie's glass before it could receive any champagne. "I haven't forgotten my promise to help you limit your drinking to a reasonable amount."
Algie looked back and forth at his full glass and the bottle in his hand, then sighed. "Thanks, Tom. So, anyone else want more champagne? Don't worry about it making you as foolish as me; I started out like this."
"We were actually looking for dance partners," said Bramble.
"Feel free to ask me," said Lulu.
"I don't feel right asking someone, considering I don't know these dances," said Briar.
"And I don't know them well," added Bramble.
Nancy looked at Lulu, and the two of them worked out between themselves which of the men would ask them to dance based on how much they felt like teaching a beginner. They informed the men of their decision, received the dance invitations they'd ordered, and set out to the dance floor.
"I thought you said women don't ask men to dance," Tom overheard Briar say as they left.
"Well, they didn't, technically," said Bramble.
That left Tessie, Algie, and Tom at the table. Algie offered his hand to Tessie. "Shall we?"
"Of course!" Tessie sprang to her feet, but looked back at Tom. "I don't mean to leave you alone, though."
Tom waved them away. "I have plenty of friends here, don't worry. I might try to track down your mother and ask her to dance."
"Good luck finding her," said Tessie.
"She's the best chaperone one could ask for," said Algie.
Tom had no luck finding Mrs. Prewett, but many ladies in search of dance partners caught Tom's eye, so he had a wealth of choices. He found one dance partner, and then another, and another. Although he no longer thought of them as mere not-Cecilias, they all lacked a certain something. He enjoyed their company for the duration of a dance.
He eventually found himself in need of water, so he headed back to their table, where he found Algie deep in conversation with Briar.
"…the talent to be a rag-and-bone man," Algie was complaining. "I marry the girl of my dreams, my father disowns me, and then what?"
"Finding true love, though, that's the important thing," said Briar. "Who's the girl?"
"Tessie of course, the most beautiful girl here. I mean, she's like—"
"You're saying your father doesn't want you to marry Tessie Prewett?" asked Briar in confusion.
"Yeah, the old—"
"But why not?"
"She's a nobody, according to him. He wants me to marry some girl from some important old family."
"What? But the Prewetts—"
"Brian," Tom called, for it was time for Tom to admit his minor Statute violation to prevent a larger one. "A word, please." He beckoned him away.
"I have a confession to make," said Tom. "I'm the one who gave Algie a copy of Lou Garou. He would never have come across it himself, being a muggle."
It took a moment for realization to hit. When it did, it hit hard. "What?!" Briar demanded in a furious whisper. "Tom, the whole operation depends on you. If you go violating the Statute, risking arrest, for, for what—"
"The Statute is fine," Tom assured him. "Algie thinks the book is complete fiction. There's a whole genre of muggle books along similar lines, about things muggles think are impossible. They think our whole world is fiction. And besides, once he marries Tessie the Statute won't be an issue around him anymore."
Briar was not mollified. "Hearing him talk, he won't be able to marry Tessie until his father dies, unless he wants to give up his inheritance. And what does her family think of this? I can't imagine they'd allow it."
"They don't know. Tessie's brother thought he solved the problem by Obliviating the memory of Tessie from Algie's mind, but he just fell for her afterwards. They think I'm courting her, which suits them fine, as my wealth outweighs my pedigree in their eyes."
"Bloody Slytherins," muttered Briar. "What are you getting out of this?"
"Freedom from unwanted attention from other witches while I mourn my late wife," said Tom. "The Riddle heir is in demand."
"Oh!" Briar mulled that over. "I wish I'd thought of that. I saw you two at the book signing. It was a convincing act."
"Did Tessie recognize you?" Tom asked.
"She must know I'm a wizard from this talk of Lou Garou, unless you've got a side business selling magical books wholesale to muggle bookshops."
"No, I gave away just the one book. And I was careful. I had Eric deactivate all the runes, so the illustrations don't move. But does Tessie suspect which wizards you and Bramble are?"
"I doubt it. My face is different now, and my name. And I don't recall meeting her before. She must have been a few years below me at Hogwarts. Her family name is familiar of course, and Balthazar Prewett was a frequent visitor to…"
"They're not close with Balthazar," Tom assured him. "In fact the only time I've seen them together, Balthazar got Tessie's name wrong. Tessie's mother Edith Prewett is also here somewhere, as Tessie's chaperone, but we rarely see her."
Briar considered that. "I don't know her either. It'll probably be fine," he concluded.
"I don't wish to pry," said Tom, "but neither do I wish to endanger you out of ignorance, so if there's anything I should know…"
"It's just," Briar took a moment to compose his thoughts. "I'm legally dead in our world. My younger brother is my father's heir, and everyone is happy. I got out with my life on the condition that I never use my old name or face, never claim any connection to my family. So in our world, I pretend I'm just a muggleborn, with no family. I've actually fooled some acquaintances, so it shouldn't really be anything to worry about. I'm not good enough to fool a real muggleborn, though. And here," he shook his head, discouraged. "I'm just lost. I'm sure I'm making a fool of myself."
"Nonsense," said Tom.
"But there's so much I don't know," despaired Briar.
"You're thinking like a Ravenclaw," scolded Tom. "You don't have to know everything before you do something."
"So what would you have me do, just charge into the unknown? I wouldn't have taken you for a Gryffindor," said Briar.
Tom scoffed at the insult. "Of course not. All you need is a cunning plan. Take Eric with you next time you head out to socialize with muggles."
Briar burst out laughing. "So whatever he does, I do the opposite?"
Tom shrugged. "That, or just having him around will ensure that no one notices any of your faux pas."
They returned to their table to find Algie gone, and some scoundrel trying to steal one of their chairs. Tom gave him a thorough dressing down for this barbaric behavior, and the scoundrel apologized and slunk off, abashed.
"Champagne?" Tom offered. "It's New Year's Eve, a time to celebrate."
Briar accepted the champagne, but didn't look very celebratory. "That's what Randall said we should do, celebrate no matter what, but after reading The Prophet this morning, I don't see much cause for celebration. We didn't know what sort of reception we'd get in our old haunts, so we couldn't celebrate there. I don't know what the Werewolf Capture Unit plans to do with all that new funding, but it can't be good. And have you seen those adverts for anti-werewolf wards? They'll be everywhere soon, if they're not already."
"Some may be falsely advertised, taking advantage of the fearful and gullible, but I understand why you wouldn't want to chance it."
"Not that we really fit here either. Our existence is illegal by the laws of both worlds, although I'm glad that we have some friends willing to overlook the law for us. It's good to get some muggle friends. Randall said muggles would all disapprove of us or worse, but these particular muggles seem very nice. Lulu introduced us to a bloke in the band who said he'll show us around some clubs where Randall and I can actually dance with each other. They're in constant danger of being raided by the police, though. So there isn't really any safe place for us. It would be easier to escape from a muggle club than a wizarding one, though. We can Apparate away from the police, at least if we're not drunk." He gazed into the depths of his champagne. It was a shame that a face as handsome as the one Briar was currently wearing should be troubled by an expression so hopeless.
"You're always welcome in the Riddle House," said Tom. "Come as you are. We gave you those Portkeys to use whenever you need them, not just when on a mission for us."
Ah, that was better. Briar looked up from his drink to meet Tom's gaze. "Thank you."
"Tom!"
Tom turned to see Mrs. Prewett tugging a reluctant Tessie by the arm. "It's nearly midnight! I wanted to make sure you had someone to kiss for luck!"
"I was just talking with my friend," Tom explained. "Have you met—"
"He needs to find his own girl to kiss," said Mrs. Prewett. "Hurry or they'll all be taken. Go on."
Briar let himself be shooed away and vanished into the crowd.
Mrs. Prewett plopped Tessie onto the recently vacated chair beside Tom. "There!" She was flushed and panting from exertion and whatever she'd had to drink. "The nooks around the trees all seem to be taken, but at least you're together. You might want to get in a few practice kisses before midnight, to prepare."
Her equally pink daughter cringed.
Tom spoke in solemn tones. "On this, the anniversary of my wife's death—"
"It's been two years, Tom!" exclaimed Mrs. Prewett. "Two years. I'm sure your wife wouldn't begrudge you a bit of happiness now."
She had no idea.
"Mother, Tom is still in mourning—" Tessie tried.
"I know, and frankly it's growing tiresome," said Mrs. Prewett. "It seems to me that he needs a little nudge to get out of mourning, so nudge. Go on."
Tessie looked despairingly at Tom. I tried to stop her, her eyes apologized.
I know, Tom's eyes replied. He took her hand. "Tessie, you've been a light in the darkest time of my life."
The bandmaster started his Italian-accented New Year's spiel. "1929 approaches! Everyone, find someone to kiss! It's required if you hope to have any luck in the new year!"
There was scurrying around them as couples drew together.
Tom continued improvising a hackneyed declaration of admiration. "Your beauty, your charm, are constant delights. I can't help but be drawn to you, as a seedling is drawn out of the dark ground towards the sun. Yet as the seedling cannot hope to reach the sun, I fear that I am unworthy to aim for such an unattainable, glorious—"
Mrs. Prewett growled.
The band leader started a countdown.
Tom spotted Briar's coat draped over the back of a chair. "Anyway, it's difficult to kiss a girl when her mother is right here watching us." He grabbed the coat and swept it over Tessie and himself, forming a private little tent just big enough for the two of them if they pressed close together. The air was thick with the scent of Tessie's hyacinth perfume.
Tessie was close enough for her giggles and whispers to be loud in his ear. "You're brilliant. Ooh, I know!" She reached into her pocket for a tube of coral lipstick.
"You can't be serious," Tom whispered back.
"Just a little smear. It's got to look real. Now pucker up."
Tom allowed her to apply her artistic skills to their deception.
"Perfect!" she declared. "I think. It is dark in here."
"Oh Merlin. The things I do for you and Algie."
"And we're ever so grateful! You'll be the best man at our wedding."
"I hope to live that long."
"Oh Tom, it will all work out, with a bit of luck."
Outside their private tent, the band made a brassy, percussive fuss about the turning of the year.
Tessie's whispered tone suddenly changed. "But we won't have luck, since we didn't kiss anyone at midnight!"
"We don't need luck," Tom whispered back. "We have our wits, as we so recently demonstrated. Your mother should be satisfied now." Tom freed them from Briar's coat and looked around for Mrs. Prewett, but she was gone.
Author's note:
That's how the ballroom of the Criterion was decorated in the early 1920s, but it was renovated in 1924, and my Googling didn't unearth specifics of the update. This is an AU in which they kept the same decor. That's the point of divergence in this universe, OK? I leave the details of how this led to Voldemort winning the war as an exercise for the reader.