"Hi!" the blonde girl half-smiled at him, though the emotion did not reach her stark blue eyes.
"Hi." he returned in an equally unenthusiastic manner, not bothering to try and fake any joy at meeting an annoying stranger that he would have to share a room with for the foreseeable future.
A few seconds of silence settled over them as he took in the miserable place that was supposed to be his new home. White tiled floor, brown tiled walls, tiled
everything. One ratty bed on each side of the cramped room, one dark wardrobe and one table with a single rickety looking chair... otherwise, the room was completely devoid of any decorations or life. Even the world outside the window looked grey and dead.
He bloody hated it all, already.
"I'm Tanya." the annoying girl shared unprompted.
Well, at least he wouldn't have to ask her for her name now…
"Tom." he simply replied, ready to get this over with.
He hated
that name too.
"Glad to meet you, Tom." Tanya smiled without joy again and he wanted to hit her.
Obviously he did not, because he was sure the Matron would lash him or something, so Tom merely grunted and went to unpack his things. He was sure he would soon be rid of the girl anyways.
o-TxT-o
It had been a month since his imprisonment in this place and Tom did not know what to think of it.
Wool's Orphanage, despite whatever intention its founder might've once upon a time have had, was not a kind place. Each day was filled with monotonous chores and rigorous discipline, punishing each break of the rules with fierce and unrelenting brutality, and whenever the watchful Sisters left the children to their own devices, fierce battles of territory and rank were fought amongst themselves.
For example, Ricky, or the
'Lunch King' as he preferred to be called, ran a gang whose sole purpose was to exploit his fellow orphans of their rare desserts. Most days they were handed simple apples for supper, but on Sundays the Matron sometimes treated her charges to something more delectable. Small cups of Jell-O or the odd piece of chocolate, were prized commodities which he and his cronies collected under threat of violence.
Tanya, as Tom had quickly learned, also held a great interest in chocolate. So great in fact, that she would not cave to the Lunch King's demands and relinquish her precious prize to his greedy, fat hands. The little gnat had then tried to corner her in the hallways after bible studies class, surrounding her with five of his friends, each at least a year older than the diminutive blonde.
Tom of course had hung back, content to observe the trashing his roommate was about to receive when he was unexpectedly proven wrong.
She did not get beaten to a pulp.
No, instead her
bullies were the ones being trashed.
Swift kicks to the knees and their groins that had even him wince in sympathy, quickly shut the boys down, sending them to the ground where Tanya placed a dainty little foot on Ricky's wobbly throat and glared him into submission.
It was enchanting.
That
power …
That
confidence …
Tom
craved it like a man in the desert would a glass of water.
After she was done with them, she stalked away, leaving the scene of the crime before a Sister could catch her in the act. Later, when one of the crying boys went snitching, she was the picture of innocence, claiming to have been in her room to study her textbooks.
That was also something Tom took note of.
How easily she manipulated the gullible woman with her wide eyes and a shy bite of her lips.
"But Ma'am, how could I have beaten up those six boys? I'm barely strong enough to open a pickle jar on my own…"
It seemed so easy. So frighteningly, wonderfully simple.
Thus, when the Matron had passed by on her nightly inspection of their rooms, he couldn't help but whisper:
"How did you do it?"
"What do you mean, Tom?" she quietly asked back from the opposite side of the room.
"Ricky and his gang… They all looked stronger than you… And you still beat them and got away with it. How?"
"
Oh, you see… Strength is useless without the capacity to use it. They could have easily overwhelmed me if they had properly utilized their advantages. Like, they could have instantly tackled me to the ground and held me there. But instead they waited around and spent valuable seconds posturing, trying to scare me. Do you know why they did that?"
Tom thought about it for a while, before whispering his answer.
"Because they were overconfident. They thought they couldn't lose."
"Indeed. But you can always lose. No matter how strong you think you are, how many friends you have backing you up…"
Her voice turned wistful and strangely sad; in a way that he had never heard her talking like before.
"You can
always lose."
The wind howled angrily against their window as Tom ruminated on Tanya's words long into the night. Ultimately, he found them to be true. His father had arms bigger than his head and shoulders two times as broad as him and yet he still died all the same. Even the Jesus guy that the Sisters kept preaching about died like a pathetic wimp in the end.
Everybody died eventually, no matter their power.
So, he just had to be better than all of them if he wanted to avoid that pitiful fate!
o-TxT-o
They were often left alone together, as contradictory as that sounded. The other orphans were irritating and so he kept his distance, which most of the time resulted in him being near Tanya who also kept to herself, hiding in some corner or another with her head in strange books. Tom had caught a few glances at the contents of said books and had, at first, thought it to be a different language before she explained to him – much to his embarrassment – that it was
simply mathematics.
Of course they were taught about maths in class, but whatever Tanya was reading was so advanced that he could not make heads nor tails of it. Why were there so many letters between the numbers!? That didn't make any sense! Still, he didn't bother her about it, seeing as she was pleasantly quiet and her presence warded off bullies, who by now had learned not to mess with her.
Where he
couldn't avoid the other children however, was during meal times. All the boys and girls had to present themselves in the gigantic main hall three times a day and eat what they were served. The Sisters periodically walked around to check for any 'mischievous behaviour', but mostly left them alone to eat at their own grown-ups table.
The rules were simple: If you made a mess while eating, you got punished. If you were tardy, you got punished. If your uniform was dirty, you got punished. If you were unduly loud, you got punished. If you said your prayer wrong, you got
punished.
(Interestingly though, he never caught Tanya saying her prayer. She just folded her hands and silently moved her lips with an angry stare in her eyes, not producing a single sound.)
What the rules unfortunately did not account for was the other kids being giant idiots.
He had just been slurping down his thin vegetable soup like usual when the boy on the opposite side of the table got the bright idea to tip over his bowl, spilling the hot broth over Tom's pants. Yelping in pain, he would have nearly fallen out of his seat if not for Tanya's steadying grip.
That fresh bastard had it coming!
While the nitwit laughed and gloated about his successful prank, Tom's hatred grew and grew. It was a boiling fire inside him that rose through his veins and up to his throat where he released it with burning clarity.
"Choke on it!"
The hiss was both incredibly loud and nearly silent simultaneously and the world seemed to halt in its tracks for a moment as the boy's eyes glazed over.
Then he began coughing.
His hands gripped his throat as he started to sputter and convulse. Slowly his face turned blue and his eyes bulged as he suffocated.
The beautiful moment was brought to an end when Tanya appeared like a flash behind him and repeatedly hit him on the back. That seemed to snap the idiot out of it and he began instead to pale dramatically.
Throwing himself to the floor like the worm he was, the bully scooted backwards away from Tom, while pointing at him with a shaky finger.
"G-g-get away from m-me, freak!"
Eventually, due to the conflicting statements of everybody at the table, the Sister decided to punish them both for making a ruckus. It could have been worse, considering that they only had to stand with their face to a wall for an hour.
That night it was Tanya for a change, who asked him something.
"Did you do that?"
They both knew what she meant, but he decided to play dumb.
He didn't want her to get scared or angry at him for it like the Sisters might.
"I don't know what you mean…" Tom deflected, yet she was undeterred.
"That feeling deep in your core. That pressure in your gut that rises and rises until you can almost taste it… It's almost like electricity coursing through your blood.
That thing."
What could she possibly know about
that? Did she have that special gift as well!?
In hindsight it seemed almost obvious... The Matron had put them in the same room, despite her being a girl and him being a boy. That was clearly because they were
both too different from the other kids to fit in anywhere else!
They were
better than them.
And if she had the gift as well, maybe she could teach him more about how to use it…
"I guess…" he hesitantly replied, searching her expression. "Do you?"
"Yes."
Wow. Maybe he wasn't alone after all...
"Tom?"
"Mmh?"
"I think it's magic. We're
mages, Tom."
Mages, huh?
o-TxT-o
Sitting on the piece of cardboard, so that his trousers wouldn't get dirty, Tom watched the other children on the yard play one of their boring games again.
"There will be a war soon."
Blinking his eyes slowly in confusion, Tom turned to look at Tanya who was sitting next to him, her book lying closed in her lap.
"What makes you say that?"
"I've seen it in the newspapers that the Sisters read during breakfast. Germany's war efforts are only growing with each passing year. In a few years Britain is going to get sucked into the conflict one way or another."
Tom didn't ask what made her so sure about that. If Tanya was saying it, then it was probably true. She knew a lot of strange stuff.
"And what does that have to do with
us? We're too young to be soldiers."
They didn't send kids to the front lines. Looking around, he couldn't help but sneer imagining these pathetic weaklings holding a gun. No way would the King be stupid enough to entrust England's safety to these wastes of skin!
"They?" Tanya inclined her head in the other childrens' direction. "Definitely. But we are mages. We are the only children in this whole orphanage that possess magic. What does that tell you?"
"That being a mage is pretty rare, right?" he asked after a second of thinking.
Tanya nodded her head, making a few of her golden locks spill over her face, which she absentmindedly pushed back.
"Exactly. I'd wager it's something like one in a thousand or maybe even less, statistically speaking..."
He didn't know what 'statistically' meant, but nodded along anyways, committing her every word to memory.
"After all, have you ever heard of any mages in Britain before?"
"
Merlin?"
Tom remembered that name only from a story book, but he was supposed to be an important guy in history.
"Well, if Merlin ever existed then he died hundreds of years ago. Today there aren't any publicly known mages around. Why could that be?"
She was testing him and he was loath to lose to her, so Tom kicked his brain into overdrive.
"Mmmh… Maybe they're secret?" Nodding to himself as the pieces clicked together, he continued: "Like, maybe they hide from the world, because all the non-magical people are so horrible. Like the Sisters."
'Like his father' was left unsaid, but still so loud in his own head.
"That's certainly a possibility. But a whole entire secret society of magical people sounds a bit far-fetched, in my opinion."
Shame and a little bit of sadness crashed into Tom. He had disappointed her with his answer! Of course that wasn't right, this wasn't some sort of
story book after all!
"I think they're held under lock and key by the government. Just think about it, people like us… We can become incredibly powerful. Stronger and faster and more deadly than anyone else. With the war on the horizon, I'm sure the prime minister and the King are going to use them as Special Forces."
Focusing back on what she was saying, he attempted to make up for his mistake by finishing her thought.
"And
that means they are going to want us. There aren't a lot of mages around, so they take every single one they can get her hands on. All for the war with Germany."
Tanya regarded him seriously before sighing in uncharacteristic frustration.
"Yeah, that's precisely what I fear..."
A stupid kid was yelling something in the background, but he paid them no mind.
"What are we going to do about it?"
He didn't want to go to war!
"We train."
"For what?"
"We train to become strong enough to fend them off until we're old enough to take a ship to America. Far away, to a land of freedom and
endless economic possibilities... "
Freedom sounded good. He would have to find out more about America and what 'economic possibilities' really meant, but if Tanya was going then he was coming with her!
"Sounds good."
And then the old bell tolled and they had to get back inside, lest they wanted to get their ears pulled for tardiness.
o-TxT-o
Besides the silvery rays of the moon, merely the flickering light of a stolen candle illuminated their bedroom. At night – after the Matron had made her rounds – was the only time and place where they could do this without fear of accidentally being uncovered by a nosy brat.
Still, it was so
exciting!
Tom hadn't felt as pumped to learn magic as he had ever felt in his life for anything!!
Finally, Tanya took a deep breath and broke their mutual silence.
"We are both new to this, so let us set some ground rules first.
Magic is dangerous. In studying it blindly we must not become overconfident and hurt ourselves. As far as we know, we might be the only two mages on the planet, so it would be a great waste if this ability died with us due to our incompetence."
Grumbling, Tom agreed. Magic was the best thing that ever happened to him. Except maybe meeting Tanya, but secretly he always attributed that to his gift too.
"Furthermore, magic is something instinctual. It's produced by our bodies and sometimes strikes out on its own when we experience strong emotions. Yet, are we going to content ourselves with that? Becoming nothing but slaves to our whims in order to
sometimes harness the force that should be ours by birthright?"
"No!"
Tom was a tiny bit surprised by the vehemence in his own tone. But after a second's thought he understood it, he was nobody's slave!
"Exactly. Magic is something that we have to master instead of it mastering us. It's the power to bend the world to our will with nothing but our thoughts and it's up to us to harness that potential."
When she put it like that, his gift sounded even more awesome!
"And the way that we are going to attain absolute control over our untamed magic is through cold logic. We have to dictate precisely where and what it can do in order for the magic to fulfill our specific desires. We need to be able to understand it at the deepest level, like we understand the motion of our fingers or the balance of our feet. Only then can we one hundred percent rely on our magic to never fail or abandon us."
His magic abandoning him?
HIM!? No, that was just inconceivable. That should
never be allowed to happen!!
"Good… I see the fire of self-improvement is already burning inside you."
Tanya smiled and suddenly he felt put on edge for some odd reason.
"Let's see you channel that fire into algebra then, because we are going to need
a lot of it."
Oh no… Had those horrible books she read driven her insane!?
o-TxT-o
Over the years his control over his magic slipped multiple times, injuring some of the kids and once turning the Matron's hair baby blue. It rankled his pride a bit that Tanya never seemed to have problems with her emotions, always being perfectly composed in everything she did, but he could never find it in himself to hate her. Indeed, Tom shuddered to think where he would be now without her. Alone, surrounded by hateful morons and oppressive adults who despised his very existence, unable to even call upon his magic by choice…
No, he had decided that she would be his sister in all but blood. If that fat oaf had been able to call himself his father by virtue of once sleeping with his mother then Tom had all the right in the world to form new connections if he so desired. His parents had failed to fulfill their duties to their child and so he felt more than entitled to a replacement. Tanya would be his sister, regardless of if she wanted it or not.
No one else could have her in their family...
Not that there was any risk of that happening anytime soon. The ongoing war on the European mainland laid heavy on everyone's mind and so fewer and fewer people were coming by to consider an adoption. They were both 'freakish' enough for the Matron to not even bring them out whenever an adult
did show up, if only for slightly different reasons.
Tanya always knew the perfect thing to say to play up the façade of a bright but bookish young girl, completing nearly
double the amount of chores as the other kids to gain free access to the local library. Yet, that same inexhaustible drive and intellect somehow scared the Matron. In her view, Tanya was an unnatural existence that exhibited all the traits that she saw as wrong with 'modern women'. Once, his roommate had made the mistake of speculating about economics in the Matron's presence and the ghastly woman had flown into a fit of rage about the 'scandalous and shameless suffragette spirit pervading the youth'.
The Sisters knew, however, that Tanya was reliable enough to be allowed to visit the library on her own; a luxury which they never granted to Tom. He was
reviled by the Matron for his 'devilishness', whatever that old crone meant by that. It wasn't his fault that the other children never seemed to learn from the punishments he inflicted upon them. And really, if not for Tanya's cautioning hand, he might have pushed one or two of them down a flight of stairs. They were all so worthless when compared to her.
What made living in the orphanage mostly bearable, was their shared magic training. At first it had taken him an hour of migraine-inducing calculations and absolute focus to produce nothing but a tiny light above his fingertips. It was as if magic was sluggish, actively resisting his will to get pressed into the mathematical form he desired, like a bird resisting its cage. Then, once he finally mastered that little trick to make it work in under a minute, everything seemed to snap into place and his magic fully submitted to his will.
It was
exhilarating...
Now he could do much more than produce simple motes of light. He could form a hot beam to burn stuff at a distance (Tanya called it a 'laser' for some odd reason) and he was able to project a weak field above his skin that protected him from attacks! That same field could even be concentrated into a small blade that was wickedly sharp, able to cut through solid metal like butter!
Sadly, he could only maintain one spell at any given time, but he didn't feel too bad about it, as his sister was also unable to do so, despite her genius intellect when it came to mathematics of any kind...
Nonetheless, he could make up for this glaring weakness by employing his
focus orb .
Tanya had cobbled the tiny machine together from a pocket watch that he had taken off of a drunkard in front of the gate and the Matron's radio. It had taken her nearly a year of effort to make it function and Tom still couldn't wrap his head around how she had been able to design it in the first place. When she gifted it to him last Christmas, he had barely avoided crying from the sheer joy that filled his heart after using it.
That night cemented her in his mind forever as his
family. No one else would be able to match this gift, no matter how many times she tried to downplay her achievements by calling it a 'rudimentary prototype'.
With the focus orb hanging around his neck, amplifying his power, Tom felt absolutely invincible. His 'laser' was now hot enough to melt stone, his shield durable enough to take a full punch to the face without making him so much as
flinch, and his blade grew to the length of a kitchen knife, ominously glowing in its cerulean glory and eager to spill the blood of all who opposed him.
Naturally, Tanya still beat him more often than not during their secret sparring sessions in the boiler room, but that only made him more eager to get stronger. One day
he would handily overpower her and then she would see his true greatness! In his quest to defeat death itself, that was certainly going to be step number one.
Tom was distracted from his daydream by a short knock on the door. A Sister promptly opened it and spoke with a worrying tinge of fear: "There is someone here to see you both."
Like she couldn't leave fast enough, the woman vanished and a middle aged man who looked to be in his sixties stepped into the frame. His hair was grey and wavy and he wore a nice brown suit with a silk scarf loosely hanging over his shoulders. Although he tried to project an aura of friendliness, Tom was instantly on guard.
Was this a government spook, here to enlist them for the war?
He shot a quick look over to Tanya who was only now putting down her pencil, rising slowly from her seat at the table to face the suspicious man.
"Hello there, children. It comes to you two probably as quite the surprise that I am here today."
"Indeed. We don't tend to get many visitors, being orphans and all that, sir." Tanya flatly stated, her posture tense in a way that Tom knew signalled her being ready to lunge forward at a moment's notice.
Mentally he prepared to cast his mage blade…
"Yes… Oh, where are my manners! My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, but you may call me Albus if you want. I am here today to invite you both to a very special school, built specifically for children like you."
"And what precisely are '
children like us' ?" he asked with a charming smile in hopes of distracting the man enough for his sister to finish him off if need be.
"Why, those that possess magic of course!" laughed the man and Tom felt a chill run down his spine.
Had the government known about their talents all this time? Were they being watched all that time?
Tanya hid her hands behind her back and calmly approached the bearded agent.
"And why would you think that we can do… '
magic' as you say? Aren't witches and fairies and such only products of legends and fantasy?"
Looking down at the blonde girl staring straight up at him, the spook shook his head in amusement.
"No, no, no… Witches are quite real, I assure you. As for fairies? Well, they make for a rather nice Christmas decoration if I do say so myself. And how I am sure that you are magically gifted is also pretty easy to explain. Through…"
The man stuck his hand into the inside of his jacket and Tom quickly hopped off the bed to get closer to his right while Tanya pulled up on his left.
"… These letters here!"
Oh… That was anticlimactic. What had a piece of parchment to do with magic?
As if reading his thoughts, the government agent looked him directly in the eyes and held one envelope out to him.
"When a child with magic in their blood reaches the suitable age, the Hogwarts Quill will write down their name and address, so that they may be enrolled into the Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Go on. Take a look."
Hesitantly he took the letter with his name and watched his sister do the same to hers, although she was clearly scanning the parchment for something. He waited until she gave him a near imperceptible nod, before they both opened their envelopes and peered inside.
It instantly struck Tom how fine the paper was and how gorgeous the gilded illustration at the top looked. Four animals were depicted in a crest: A badger, a lion, a snake and an eagle. And in the middle stood an emblazoned 'H', likely short for 'Hogwarts'.
Directing his gaze downward he intently studied what was written there in green ink. Idly, he wondered what the difference between witchcraft and wizardry might be, before discarding it as unimportant.
Despite all the flowery language and confusing terms used in the letter, it didn't actually explain the purpose or structure of the school
at all. Highly suspicious…
Well, at least they now knew the man who led this secret government branch; a certain 'Headmaster Armando Dippet' was the source of their misfortune. Tom made sure to remember that name to hunt him down someday.
How that bastard knew his name, however, was still a mystery...
The spook spoke up once again: "Furthermore, if that letter fails to convince you, I am the Professor for Defense against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts and as such I have a certain
nose, you could say, for magical objects. And you, dear Mr. Riddle, have definitely one such object hanging right around your neck…"
Instinctively he clutched his focus orb. Was the man going to take it away!?
He would kill him first!
"Professor Dumbledore, sir, is participation in this school mandatory?" Tanya asked coolly.
He looked genuinely taken aback by the inquiry.
"Not
necessarily, no. But it is the only place in Great Britain where you can study magic. Without an education at Hogwarts you will not be able to succeed in the magical world. All but the simplest spells will likely be forever out of your reach and you will be forced to live amongst muggles, I mean, non-magical people."
Not letting any reaction to that claim show on her face, his sister continued her questioning with a steely voice:
"Sir, are mages required to serve King and Country with their lives? Are Hogwarts students compulsorily drafted into the British Armed Forces or similar organizations after graduation?"
Blinking his eyes in shock, the man began to frown.
"My dear child, what gave you the idea? You are
children, not soldiers! Hogwarts is supposed to be a safe space for all magical children to learn in peace. It was founded during a time when witch trials were still happening in order to offer comfort and shelter for all those in need. It is not affiliated with the military
in the slightest! "
Exchanging a glance, Tom shrugged his shoulders. He didn't trust this Dumbledore guy at all, but they also had no evidence to the contrary.
"Mmh, assuming that this is true then what are the tuition costs? Those seem to be missing from the letter. And all the extra materials like cauldrons and text books that we are supposed to buy are listed with weird price estimations. I have never heard of a currency like 'Sickles' or 'Galleons'."
It took hours for their interview of the supposed wizard to finish and the only thing that convinced them that they were not going to get kidnapped was his prolonged patience and generally calm attitude. After all, why would a secret government agent make up all these elaborate lies about a hidden mage society and its socio-economic conditions
or the intricacies of a mystical boarding school if he was going to just abduct them anyway?
Tom, however, vowed to nonetheless remain careful around the professor. During their talk, Dumbledore had curiously eyed his focus orb on more than one occasion, and merely the fact that he never reached out to touch it was what had saved his life.
Pressed against the glass of their window, both him and his sister watched him leave through the front gate and soon, they began to scheme…
o-TxT-o
As Albus apparated away from Wool's Orphanage, he couldn't help but breathe out in relief.
What had happened to these poor children to make them so… He didn't even have a proper word for what he just experienced! Jaded? Brutal? Lifeless? Paranoid?
Dark?
All of these descriptors failed to do their characters justice...
Two orphans who had been prepared to murder him, deathly afraid that he would drag them away and send them to their doom. Mistrustful to the extreme, their keen intellect was obviously geared for survival and domination, brutality and craftiness. The best comparison he could come up with was that they reminded him of the worst parts of a vampire and a werewolf combined. As if the essence of a dark pure-blood family had seeped through reality to form two muggleborn siblings who were
already scarred by life, while having lived so little of it...
Popping a lemon drop into his mouth to take the foul taste off of his tongue, Albus held onto one, somewhat happy, thought.
In a cold world that had apparently robbed them of their happiness and their childhood…
At least they had each other.