It was cold outside. The wind was blowing harshly across the grounds of Hogwarts. Even from the inside of the castle it could be heard roaring outside and some in the comfort of their dorms still shivered as they heard the sound imagining how cold it was out there. The moon shone proudly, reflected in the lake and sending shimmers of light over the otherwise pitch black grounds of the school. And lying in the middle of the field was Tom. His body lay back on the ground completely still, a lit cigarette in his mouth and a small streak of smoke emitting from it. He wasn't thinking of much; he'd been out here since he left the Headmaster's office- which had to have been a few hours ago at this point. He couldn't be bothered to think. Thinking only brought pain. And that's why he brought all the drugs. And the cigarettes. Addiction cured his pain.
'I tell myself that,' Tom thought, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and dropping it by his side onto the cold grass. He pulled out another and placed it back in the spot in his lips he'd placed his previous one, 'But does it really make any difference? Apart from killing me faster that is.'
That was the thing Tom had been told about all the drugs: They would kill him faster but, in reality, Tom didn't particularly care about dying any faster. He had no ambitions- he'd never had any. He had no goals, nothing, nothing beyond the commitment of school and even then he wasn't even showing up to classes anymore.
'What really is the point?' Tom took the cigarette out of his mouth again and puffed out all the smoke stored in his mouth. It felt satisfying. Slightly. Better than nothing he supposed.
"Tom?"
Tom's eyes opened. He hadn't realised but he'd fallen asleep again. His eyes scanned his surroundings without moving his head. He was still outside; he hadn't moved and he could also tell that he hadn't slept for too long, maybe a few minutes maximum. He breathed a sigh of relief.
'Maybe I am more tired than I think,' Tom thought to himself.
"Tom?" the voice repeated and Tom, having not noticed it before, turned sharply to the direction it had come from, "Is that yer?"
Tom looked up at the large form of Hagrid standing over him, his face barely discernible through his thick beard. Tom avoided eye contact with the half-giant. He wasn't really in the mood for a reunion nor any conversation of any kind. But at this point he knew it was inevitable.
"What are yer doing out here..." Hagrid said slowly, noticing the cigarettes lying around. Tom responded with silence. He didn't move a muscle mostly out of tiredness. Eventually he found it within himself to find the effort to speak.
"Resting."
The answer didn't seem to satisfy Hagrid, "What are you doing?!" he said, outrage filling his voice. He roughly grabbed Tom's collar and pulled him up, knocking the cigarette out of his hand, "Are you smoking? At yer age?!"
Tom effortlessly pulled Hagrid's arm off him, shocking the half-giant with his strength, "I'm just minding my business."
"Yer meant to be in your dorm, being a kid and instead yer out here being-"
Tom interrupted Hagrid's rant, "Why do you even care?" he said sharply and turned around, "I'll just go," Tom stopped to say one more thing, "Don't tell the Headmaster."
Hagrid watched as the boy kept walking towards the castle. He called out to him, "Wait!" Tom turned around to face him, "Come back to my Cabin first. I want to talk to yer about something."
After a moment's consideration, Tom shrugged and followed Hagrid back to his hut.
"It's past midnight, yer should be in bed," Hagrid said, starting the kettle up. Tom hadn't said anything for a few minutes now. He just sat there in silence. As Hagrid was turned away from him, he couldn't help a look of concern from building upon his face. Over the years he had grown fond of the boy and he still remembered to this day what he had been like when he had first found him.
"Yer've changed a lot Tom," Hagrid said, not turning around, "I wonder if yer still the same person though... deep down."
Tom looked at the back of Hagrid's head as he spoke. There was a few moments of silence before Tom decided to open his mouth and finally reply.
"I don't know," He said simply, "Maybe." As he said that last word he reached into his pocket to pull out another cigarette. With a rough growl Hagrid whipped around and stopped his arm.
"Stop that!" he bellowed. A look of indignation blemished on Tom's face.
"Why do you care?" he half-whispered, pushing away Hagrid's hand.
"Because yer a kid!" responded Hagrid, "Yer throwing yer whole life away and-"
Tom interrupted him, "What did you want to talk about Hagrid?"
Hagrid paused and breathed out slowly. He turned back around to the kettle. It had just started boiling so he took it off the fire.
"I remember when yer was just little. It really weren't that long ago now, even if to yer it might feel that way," Tom's face stiffened as Hagrid spoke. He didn't like people mentioning what he was like when he was weak. Hagrid continued, "When I found yer, yer was almost dead. In the slow, about to die from hypothermia. And when I talked to yer afterwards in my cabin... even back then I could tell yer'd gone through some stuff," Hagrid turned around to face Tom now, "Tom, I've talked with Harry- uh I mean the Headmaster- don't put yerself through unnecessary pain. Yer've been through enough. Just don't do it to yerself."
Tom could see the emotion in Hagrid's eyes alone. The half-giant was almost crying. Inside himself, Tom could feel his own feelings. He was moved by what Hagrid said. But he just didn't care.
'Maybe I do like the pain?' Tom thought mentally to himself before opening his mouth, "It doesn't matter," he paused. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the packet of cigarettes, "It doesn't matter if I smoke, it doesn't matter if I drink, it doesn't matter if I die-" Hagrid opened his mouth to object to this but Tom kept going, "-Do you think that when I started I hadn't heard the 'You're wasting your life away' thing? I knew about it; I know about it; And I don't care. I don't have a life, not a future, not anything."
When Tom finished, he found that he had started breathing heavily. His hand had started shaking. He reached forward awkwardly and pulled out a cigarette.
"Please don't..." Hagrid said weakly. Tom ignored him and lit it.
"... It makes me feel something," Tom said, a lot quieter. He puffed out the smoke slowly. It seemed like he had calmed down, "I'm sorry..." his voice came out smooth and calm yet also Hagrid could pick up the hints of sadness and pain in it. Tom slowly got up from his chair and left the hut, making his soberly way back to the castle.
"Did you see the Quidditch World Cup?"
"Yeah, did you see the new Broomsticks England were using?"
"I did, that was crazy!"
Tom groaned to himself slightly. Why was he even here? He looked around the Great Hall where he found himself. He sat in his usual corner at the Slytherin table. Nobody bothered him and he didn't bother him- just how he liked it. He found that he didn't get loudly angry anymore at anything that happened anymore. Instead he simply sat quietly with an aura of silent fury.
From the Gryffindor table he could hear a group of boys, around a year younger than him and certainly much smaller, jollily and loudly talking about the new Quidditch season. It was the morning and a streak of pale glow poured in through the windows. It was way too early for people to have this type of enthusiasm. Tom could tell it wasn't just him sharing this feeling of annoyance towards the Gryffindors- he could practically sense it from his fellow Slytherins further down the table. The Hall wasn't as packed as it usually was. All the people from Tom's year were gone as were most from the other years. The only faces Tom recognised aside from those he had seen off-handedly from his table was Paul who sat with his own group of friends and a Gryffindor boy he had had the pleasure of beating up last year when he tried to fight him in the Bathroom. That particular guy seemed to be avoiding eye contact with Tom and wore a face of paleness. The teacher's table was practically deserted aside from a bored-looking Mr Weasley who was apprehensively gazing at the bland-looking sausage on the edge of his fork.
"Hey is that the freak?"
Aaaand they were talking about him now. Tom's head slightly drooped in disappointment and tiredness. He could not be bothered with this right now. He heard an orchestra of hyena-like squeals from the Gryffindor table and then a pitter-patter of whispers and footsteps as the group walked over to him, all giggling to themselves. The supposed leader of the group walked in front of them and wore the same smug smile that all Gryffindors wore.
"Hey freak!" said the leader in a mocking tone that made all his lackeys burst out in laughter. Tom looked up at them, his face neutral but his eyes burning a threatening shade of red. Further down the table, Paul got up. Tom noticed that the boy had grown. He was no longer the short boy that he had been just a year prior. While his transformation was not as drastic as Tom's, Paul looked a lot more mature than his previous 'innocent-looking' self.
"Hey back off, leave him alone."
Paul's voice was deeper too, and it seemed to Tom he was much less of a pushover. He gave him a subtle motion to get him to stand down.
"We weren't talking to you!" spat the leader, "I was talking to the freak-"
Tom stood up slowly, revealing how much taller he truly was compared to the now tiny looking Gryffindor. The boy took an instinctive step back.
"And I'm listening," Tom's voice sent a shiver down the Gryffindors' spines.
The leader stepped forward and tried to speak confidently, failing to hide the slight quiver in his lips, "My name is Gordon Kevit! And I challenge you to a duel!"
Tom looked down at him and gave him a look as if to say 'Seriously?'
"Don't you Gryffindors ever learn?" Tom half-whispered.
At this point Ron Weasley had looked away from his sausage and was now paying close attention to the scene that had started to unfold before him.
"Y-you can't do magic! The sixth-years told us! So duel me then!" Gordon Kevit's confidence act was still strong seemingly. Tom shrugged and stepped forward.
"Right here?" he asked.
"Yeah! Right here! Right now! So you can't run away!" Gordon laughed a little too loudly at his own joke. He stepped backwards until he was around a meter away from Tom and pulled out his wand. They stood between the two middle tables of the Great Hall, staring directly at each other. All in the way quickly got dashed away. Ron was ready at any minute to jump in. Tom didn't even reach for his wand. He looked over to Paul and his group of friends and gave them a knowing look. Paul responded with an understanding nod. They both knew what each other meant. Tom turned back to Gordon in front of him.
"Just say when."
A scowl emerged on Gordon's face. He pointed his wand directly at Tom's head. There was a pause. Everyone in the Great Hall sat there, breathless and expecting.
"Now!" Gordon yelled out suddenly and shot a streak of white lightning from his wand directly at Tom's face. It hit him directly with the sound of a whip... and there was no reaction. Tom stayed unmoving and straight-faced. Gordon's face morphed to one of shock. He shot another spell. Again, it connected with a crack and left no impact. Tom started moving forward. His steps were slow and tired, as if he was bored. More spells kept shooting at him and they kept having no effect. Eventually Tom had reached Gordon and had completely tanked all of his spells. Just as Gordon was about to launch one final spell, Tom grabbed his arm and effortlessly pushed it away from him. Still with Gordon's arm in a firm grip, Tom looked down at the boy and asked, "Do you give up?"
Gordon, his face now one white with fear, nodded quickly. Tom let go of his arm, turned and started walking away. The whole of the Great Hall sat completely speechless. Some even were even left jaw-dropped. Ron's eyes were wide with disbelief.
As Tom was walking away however, Gordon's face reverted to one of anger and he threw out yet another spell. This time however, Tom didn't tank it. In a single motion he pulled out his wand and countered with his own spell. In an instant it connected with Gordon's body and he was sent flying backwards.
Tom turned around and faced the rest of the Gryffindors who all staggered backwards. An unimpressed noise came through Tom's lips and he looked back to Gordon, still lying on the ground.
"Pathetic," he whispered. He walked back to the Slytherin table who accepted him eagerly, Paul and his group of friends becoming ecstatic. Tom was becoming somewhat of an idol to them. Just as he was about to sit down, Tom's eyes drifted to the Teacher's table and saw Mr Weasley and the expression on his face. He looked away, trying to ignore it. He cared little for that teacher.
The day seemed to fly by after the morning. As usual Tom didn't attend classes. Like he'd done for the last month or so of the previous year, he wandered around the grounds, just enjoying the beautiful scenery. And the quiet. Yes he liked the quiet. There was something magical about Hogwarts aside from the obvious... magic. It was a feeling Tom couldn't quite translate into words but there was just a... warmth there. Peace.
"Aren't you meant to be in class?"
'There goes that idea I guess,' Tom thought, as he heard the unfortunately familiar tone of Professor Ron Weasley from over his shoulder. He begrudgingly turned to face him.
"What do you want?" he grumbled, his face turning to a scowl, "Is this about this morning?"
Ron's face also held a frown of its own. Even though he hadn't wanted to, he had to admit that Tom's actions in the morning were justified and may have been maybe just a tiny bit... impressive?
'No, this kid's crazy, remember?' Ron told himself, 'Anyway just tell him the message, even if you don't want to.'
"The Headmaster is inviting you to attend a special dinner alongside a few other teachers- tonight," he added on the last word at the end. Tom gave him a weird look.
"Why would I ever want to eat dinner with you assholes?" he asked, turning away, "I refuse."
"You can't just refuse!" Ron called out after him angrily, "And to answer your first question I have no idea. I also would not like to have a meal sitting next to you but that is just the way things are!"
"So when he says 'invite'-"
"He means you're coming," Ron said firmly, "Whether any of us like it or not," Ron was also about to walk away but said one last thing, "And go to class."
Tom replied nonchalantly with a simple, "No."
Ron rolled his eyes and sighed, "Ok," he said, just as simply and walked away.
Tom had spent the whole day deciding on whether or not he wished to attend the dinner. On one hand, he hated the prospect of it and everything it entailed, he wished to distance himself from the Headmaster as much as possible since reading his letter and it would probably be incredibly awkward. But on the other, he didn't really have much else to do.
He arrived in front of the Headmaster's office at the time he had been told - still even at the last minute considering whether or not this would be a good idea. Eventually he pushed all of those thoughts out of his head and became overtaken with a sense of sort-of disinterested resolution. At the end of the day who even cared what happened? Tom certainly didn't.
"Oh Tom there you are, I was afraid you wouldn't come," called out the Headmaster as he exited the office. Tom turned to him and shrugged.
"I have nothing better to do," he responded calmly, "Have you spoken to Hagrid by any chance?"
"No, why?" Tom simply shook his head in reply and Harry continued, "Anyways if you would walk with me to the Staff Room. The purpose of this dinner was... well I just thought you and the other teachers would benefit from getting to know each other more."
"Maybe," Tom couldn't be bothered to argue. Harry could tell there was something off about him.
"You alright?"
Tom didn't answer him so they just walked in silence until they reached the entrance to the Staff Room. They could hear the laughter from inside before they even opened the door. From voices alone Tom could pinpoint that there were only 2 people in the room and they were Mr and Mrs Weasley. He could already tell that this wasn't going to be a fun time.
As soon as the door opened he was proven right. Both Ron and Hermione's laughter and smiles instantly disappeared and their eyes were glued onto him. They watched him intensely as he walked over and found himself a seat as far away from them as possible.
"Good evening Ron, Hermione," greeted Harry warmly, clearly trying to ease the atmosphere and taking a seat next to both of his old friends on the coach.
"Harry don't call us by our first names in front of the student," hissed Hermione and Harry laughed.
"Nonsense, it doesn't matter especially not in front of Tom," he gestured to Tom for him to come closer. Cautiously, Tom did so, his eyes fixed on Ron and Hermione who were looking back at him with equal concern.
"I feel like you've all gotten off on the wrong foot," Harry explained, "And I think what we should all do is just start over."
"You can't be serious Harry-"
Harry cut Ron off, "I am completely serious Ron, in fact Tom-" Tom looked over at him, "Why don't you start?"
"Start what?"
"Just introduce yourself," Harry said, "Say your name and then- I dunno- something you like and something you dislike."
Tom looked at Harry as if he had just made a joke at a funeral but when he saw the look on his face he knew he was deathly serious.
"And then we'll all do it after you!"
Ron opened his mouth to protest, "Now wait a minute-"
"Ron," Hermione interjected sternly, "Come on now, let's not be childish."
Ron huffed and crossed his arms. Well now Tom definitely didn't have any excuse. He reluctantly moved closer to them and prepared to speak.
"My name... is Tom Malumis. Something I like..." Tom paused to think, "I like... letters..." he spoke uncertainly, "Like letters you get in envelopes," Ron's eyebrow raised but Tom kept going, "Something I dislike... " he pointed up at Ron and Hermione, "You guys."
Ron scowled and indicated that he was about to get up, "Why you-"
"Ron, calm down," Harry said tiredly, a smile still on his face, "Why don't you go next?"
"Harry I refuse to play this little game of yours!"
"Go on Ron, just do it," Hermione said, causing Ron to roll his eyes.
"Allllright," he said, "My name is Ron, a things I like are my friends and things I dislike are students who break the rules," he spoke quickly and with clear annoyance in his tone.
"And you, Hermione?" Harry turned to his other friend. She smiled and spoke less begrudgingly than Ron had.
"My name is Hermione and a thing I enjoy doing is being an inspiration to younger generations. A thing I do not enjoy is... waking up early in the morning."
Harry clasped his hands together in delight, "See that wasn't too hard, was it?"
"Why are we doing this Harry?" Ron asked the question on everyone's mind. Everyone look at Harry expectantly and, in response, he sighed.
"I just... wanted you all to stop being so hostile to each other," he said with a sad smile playing on his lips, "As Tom said you all seem to dislike each other immensely and I just wished you could see eachother how I saw you all."
There was a brief silence in the room. To everyone's surprise, even his own, Tom spoke first, "I can understand that," he said, "I'm down for whatever."
"Really?" Harry looked over at him, slightly surprised by his response.
"I'm not the ones you need to convince," Tom said, leaning back in his chair and pointing his thumb in the direction of Ron and Hermione. Harry turned over and looked at them.
"Well?" he asked. Both of them looked uneasy.
'Well this wasn't the response I was expecting,' Harry thought to himself.
Ron scratched the back of his head and avoided eye contact so Harry thought it best to look to Hermione first, "So what do you have to say?"
"Well..." Hermione started strong but immediately stopped to think. She decided it best to just get her thoughts out carefully, "The thing about you Tom is- I hope you don't mind me saying- you have been, over the years, a little, let's just say... rough. And also rude."
"Life is rough and rude, get over it," Tom answered almost instantly, his face looking as stony as it always did.
"See this is what I mean," Ron chimed in, "Just can't keep your mouth shut."
"That is untrue," Tom said, clearly not bothered. That statement was laughably false and everyone knew it.
"Yeah Ron he is right, that is not true," Hermione said quietly and then turned back to Tom, "But you're still, if you don't mind the word, a brute! On the first day this year you sent almost a dozen Gryffindor boys to Madam Pomfrey!"
"That was their fault, it was self-defense," retorted Tom.
"Oh and it was 'self-defense' last time as well, was it?" Ron spat harshly.
"Yes," was Tom's simple-as-ever reply.
"To Tom's defense," Harry came in, surprised at how his two friends were ganging up on the boy, "Both cases have been confirmed to not be started by him. It is only natural for him to fight back."
"Come off it Harry, do you think that freak needs to defend himself?" Ron's words hung in the air. There was a spine-chilling silence after it. It took Ron a second to realise it was because of what he said. Tom didn't respond at all, he just let his head hang low.
"Ron..." Hermione said, in a tone of morbid disbelief.
"Ok I didn't mean it like that..." Ron tried to explain himself but realised there was no point so he just gave up, "I'm... I'm sorry. Tom."
Tom didn't look up to respond, "It's fine," he said calmly, "I'm used to it."
"What do you mean used to it?" Hermione leaned in a little closer and Harry could hear concern start to fill her voice. This is what he'd hoped would happen minus Ron's outburst. He stepped back and let it all happen.
"Don't act like you don't know- You're the head of Gryffindor house after all," Tom said, in the same neutral tone of voice. Hermione thought back. She remembered last year. She remembered what some of the students had called him in her class. She then thought back to an even longer time ago. When she had seen what Tom looked like for the very first time: he was a small- no, tiny- boy who looked completely gaunt and malnourished. And she remembered all the times she had heard him be called the word 'freak'.
"I'm sorry," her voice cracked as she said it, "You really have heard that word many times haven't you."
"So many times," Tom's voice came out a whisper. Hermione felt something in her stomach as she heard that. In his voice, she couldn't make out what it was exactly, but she could feel and sense so much pain just from his voice alone.
"Look Tom," Ron, regret now filling him, reached out a hand and put it on Tom's knee, "I really am sorry-"
Tom shook off Ron's hand, "I said it's fine."
Ron, sensing maybe he had spoken enough, leaned back in his chair and decided to stay silent.
"Tom?" Hermione asked, now taking a bit of an interest in the boy, "Do you like Hogwarts?"
Tom shrugged. He was much appreciating this environment more now that it was less loud, "I suppose," he said.
"Do you prefer it to your home?"
Tom let out the closest thing he could to a laugh. It sounded more like a cough, "What home?"
"You live in an orphanage, correct?"
Tom's face changed to a grimace, "I'm never going back there again."
"Not even after this year?" Hermione asked, finding herself getting more and more invested in this than she initially thought she would have.
"Never," Tom repeated, "Never again. I'm never going back. Too much pain."
"Do you have anywhere to go?"
Tom looked away and shook his head.
"You know, the Christmas Holidays are coming up?" Hermione said. Tom still didn't look.
"And I'll spend them here. I'm not going back."
"We're having Harry come over to our house. It's called the Burrow. You can stay over if you'd like."
"Hermione!" Ron groaned but a quick look shut him up. He grumbled a reluctant, "Yeah it's fine."
Tom looked at the two of them and paused. He didn't know what to say. Harry gave a massive smile and patted him on the shoulder.
A "Thank you," was all he could muster. Harry leaned in and whispered to him,
"See? Aren't things better now?"