Of Monsters, Of Men

Chapter 5

"Hogwarts," Dumbledore picked up again, "is a school for people with special abilities—"

Without taking his eyes off of Dumbledore, Harry felt Tom's muscles constrict as he tried to jump up. Harry only squeezed Tom's forearm tighter, digging his nails in as hard as he could. Tom glowered, opening his mouth-

"—It is a school of magic."

They froze. Harry gaped at Dumbledore, while Tom relaxed his not-so-subtle posturing to gaze at Dumbledore with wild eyes, joyous in their intensity. His face was expressionless, eyes flickering back and forth between Harry and Dumbledore, as if daring Harry to contradict what they had just heard.

A warmth bloomed across Harry's body. Tingles raced down his spine. "Magic?" they both repeated in whispered tones.

"You are correct," said Dumbledore.

"It's ... it's magic, what we do?" Tom asked.

"What is it that you can do?"

"We call it the Special Power," said Harry, who gestured to Tom to explain, sensing his fevered excitement.

Tom added excitedly, "With the Special Power, we can make things move without touching them. We can put animals to sleep without training them. We can appear in different places without moving."

Harry cut in, exhilarated, "We can make bad things happen to people who bully us. We can make them hurt if they hurt us."

Harry felt his legs tremble. He gripped the top of the chair and panted. Tom wasn't doing much better: he stumbled forward and sat down on the bed again, staring at his hands, his head bowed as though in prayer.

"I knew we were special," Tom whispered to his own quivering fingers, before raising his head to gaze at Harry, his wild eyes electrifying the distance between them. "There was no way we weren't, not when both of us had something no one else did."

"Well, you are quite right to say you and Harry share a gift. You are wizards," said Dumbledore, who was no longer smiling, but watching both of them intently.

Tom lifted his head and focused his gaze on Harry, then Dumbledore. Tom was the happiest Harry had ever seen him: his genuine, slightly lopsided childish smile was on full display, tiny dimples appearing if one knew where to look, lower cheeks rosy and pink. Harry smiled back, breaking out into a wide grin, unable to help himself when Tom's youthful joy was so infectious.

He got up and tugged on Tom's sleeve insistently. "We're wizards!" he crowed. Tom blinked a couple of times in succession, still smiling, as if unable to wipe his face. "Yeah, we really are. We're special."

Dumbledore gave them time to talk among themselves, before clearing his throat and saying, "If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts, you will be joining the ranks of witches and wizards exactly like you."

"Of course we are!" Harry said, still ridiculously giddy over the fact that Tom and he were going to a magic school. "We wouldn't reject it for anything."

"Then you will address me as 'Professor' or 'sir.' "

Harry shrunk back slightly, saying, "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to be impolite."

"It's alright, Harry," said Dumbledore gently.

"So what can you do with magic?" asked Tom curiously.

Harry watched in great interest as Professor Dumbledore drew out a long, ebony colored, polished stick and said, "Watch. I will set your wardrobe on fire, but it will not burn." He pointed it at their wardrobe, and gave it a casual flick.