Chapter Sixteen

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He sat down in the office, waiting for Mrs. Cole. The orphanage was a big building, and looked clean. He was yet to see any of the children, but he hoped they at least had enough to eat. If there was a child here that indeed belonged to him, he did not want him to be malnourished.

Mrs. Cole entered the office, apologising. "I'm so sorry, have you been waiting long, Mr.-?"

She stopped short, and said, "Oh my! You're here for Tom, aren't you?"

"Is that his name?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. I take it your name is also Riddle."

"Tom Riddle," said he dazedly. He cleared his throat. "May I meet him?"

She nodded. "I'll take you to him."

Tom followed her up a narrow stair to a door with fading paint. Mrs. Cole knocked before entering. "Tom, here's a gentleman to see you."

Tom's breath nearly stopped as he saw the child. He had seen old photographs of himself at that age. This child looked exactly like the boy in those photos, except he was a lot thinner and wore a grey and white tunic that Tom Riddle would not have been caught dead in.

"Hello, Tom," said he. The boy looked at him intensely. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Who are you?"

"Sh, Tom, that's no question to ask a visitor." Mrs. Cole said reprovingly.

"It's all right," said the senior Riddle, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm your father, Tom." He turned to Mrs. Cole. "What do I have to do to take him with me?"

"That's quite a bit of paperwork," she said.

He released the child and faced her fully. "Would a cheque cut through it faster?"

She sighed, "I'll see what I can do, but I'm afraid the paperwork is rather substantial."

"The cheque is for a substantial amount."

She frowned. But Tom could see her wavering.

"I... I'll arrange things so you can take him tomorrow."

Tom noticed that his son was listening with fascination at their exchange. He smiled at the boy, kneeling before him and taking his hands in his.

"I'll come back tomorrow, and we'll go away from here, ok?"

"Where will we be going?"

"Little Hangleton. That's where your new home will be. You will meet your grandparents. You will have a whole room all to yourself and all the toys you want. You'll like that, won't you?"

"Will you be there?"

"Of course. And you'll go to school and learn things and make friends. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Friends," murmured the child. "I don't want friends. I am fine by myself."

Tom smiled. "Ah, we'll see. You'll change your tone once you get to school."

But he did have doubts. After all, he never had any friends in school. But then, the school he attended had all sorts of people attending it. And Tom Riddle simply could not make friends with nobodies.

Perhaps, it was good that his son didn't want any friends.

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