Pity the Living ♔ Tom Riddle

1 || A Strange Man

She led him past a large opening in the hallway, full of broken bunk beds with two or three children playing on a single bed. He looked in horror at the sight, as the children stared back at him with either scared or desperate eyes, but quickly moved on down the narrow hallway, where a door lay at the very end.

"Gisela, there is a man here to see you," the matron said, knocking sharply.

What surprised him was that the person who opened the door wasn't a girl at all, but a small boy with cold dark eyes, glaring at them both.

"I'm not leaving you alone with her," he muttered callously, opening the door reluctantly to reveal a young girl with white blonde hair and startling blue eyes, staring at him with uncertainty from her place on the small thin bed. She looked oddly familiar.

"That will be all, matron," he said, making her nod emotionlessly and walked back down the hallway. The young boy went to the girl's side on the bed, wrapping a protective arm around her. He quickly understood there was no way of getting rid of the boy without scaring the girl, so he would just have to alter his memory when he was finished.

"Hello Gisela, may I have a seat?" he asked, but only received a small nod.

"Why are you here?" demanded the younger boy, looking at him with obvious suspicion.

"I am here to speak to Gisela about a special school in Germany she's been accepted to. It's called Durmstrang Institute, and it's for children with special abilities."

"In Germany? Are they sending me to a madhouse, Tom?" she asked, looking terrified as she made eye contact with her furious friend.

"We're not mad!" growled the younger boy, making the man raise his eyebrows with intrigue.

"It certainly is not a madhouse. Tell me, Gisela, have you ever been able to do things you can't explain? Like make things fly without touching them?" he asked, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Well... um... yes. Tom can too," she replied, grabbing her friends hand tightly. The man moved his eyes curiously to the boy, noticing that both he and the girl had their minds locked tight - an almost impossible feat at such a young age.

"Is that so? Tell me, how old are you, Tom?" he asked.

"I'm nine."

"Ah, that explains things. In the Wizarding World, children usually start school at eleven. So you will have to wait another two years before you start," he smiled.

"The what world?" exclaimed both children.

"The Wizarding World. Gisela, you are a witch, and I assume Tom here is a Wizard," he replied, amused at the children's reactions.

"Prove it," they exclaimed in perfect sync.

He chuckled, pulling the long carved stick out of his pocket and waving it silently at a little box on the desk. It immediately began to rise, twirling in circles, before setting back down. The children's eyes widened, and they both smiled with glee.

"When can we learn that?" the boy demanded.

"You will learn that in your first year at school. I assume though, Tom, as you are English you will attend Hogwarts, the British Wizarding school, rather than Durmstrang," he replied.

"But why can't he come to... Durmstrang?" asked Gisela, frowning at the thought of being separated from her friend.

"I'm afraid that's just how it works, Gisela. You go to whatever school you are registered to, based on your parentage. I must say, it is odd to find you here - you are the only young German witch in England. I travelled a long way to collect you," he replied, trying to reassure the children, but they still looked bothered by the thought of separation. "No need to be so worrisome, you can send letters by owls to each other to stay in contact."