They received their acceptance letters to Hogwarts a couple days later, just like Dumbledore had said. Both the envelopes were pressed with a fine red wax seal and the parchment was of high enough quality that even Tom struggled to find an argument proving they were still part of some big ruse to get rid of them. He might've still suspected them for fakes had it not been the method of their arrival. Dumbledore had failed to mention that they would be delivered by owls. It was one of the biggest spectacles ever seen at Wool's Orphanage, apart from the time that Billy Stubb was forced to punch himself repeatedly in the face. Two tawny owls soared through an open window during breakfast a few days after their meeting with the professor. Before Mrs. Cole and the rest of the Wool's staff was able to shoo the birds out, they had managed to drop two envelopes into both Tom and Frankie's laps. Inside the letters: they found their school supply lists, a letter of congratulations from the headmaster, and an extra note from Dumbledore saying that he would be there in one weeks' time to escort them to Diagon Alley.
Frankie was completely ecstatic about going to all the different wizarding shops, whether or not Dumbledore would be babysitting them for the duration of their trip. Her doubts about Hogwarts completely vanished with the arrival of their school letters. Meanwhile, Tom still thought Dumbledore could be making fools of them. Over the week, he had grown even more skeptical about the whole thing, despite the extensive proof that Dumbledore had provided him. By Wednesday, Tom had already come up with a billion questions for when he returned. If he returned. According to that strange man, it was not just the three of them against the world. At least one third of Britain's current population is made up of magic users, which was an absurd fact that baffled Tom's realm of believability far too much. He hadn't ever seen a woman riding the wind on a broomstick before, cackling wickedly and spreading evil in her wake. Nor had he ever seen anyone mumbling hogwash to make dogs stand up and start talking, or something else positively bizarre. Any myth about witchcraft had always remained just that. A myth. He'd also certainly never seen, or heard, of a street right there in London where one could purchase cauldrons and magic wands. If they were everywhere, why hadn't there ever been the faintest trace of others like them before? They couldn't have been that well-hidden. And, if they were so all-mighty and powerful, why did it take them eleven years to find him? Why had he been left in an orphanage to rot when there was an entire magical world out there that could've helped? The bitterness of that fact stung more than anything else.
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Eventually, the day arrived. The day they were supposed to go to Diagon Alley for their school things and finally get their first look at the wizarding world. Tom and Frankie both woke up to a day just like any other and got ready as quickly as possible to see if this 'Professor Dumbledore' character would actually return to take them to this fabled alley. Tom was in the playroom, thinking up even more questions to ask Dumbledore before he came to fetch them. When, suddenly, he was bombarded by Billy Stubb and his gang.
"A private school? How on earth did someone like you get into a private school?" Billy remarked, having not yet gotten a chance to comment on the latest breaking development.
Mrs. Cole had officially announced that Tom and Frankie were going off to a very fancy boarding school. She was proud about the whole thing. Of course, now that Tom and Frankie were going to be gone most of the year, it was only natural she would be in a better mood. No more incidents that often resulted in either a kid being traumatized for life or sent to the hospital. No more seeing odd things and pretending to ignore them for the sake of her fragile sanity. Just peaceful order and bliss. Tom would bet money, if he had any to bet in the first place, Dumbledore didn't tell her anything about sending them off to a school that would increase their "cursing" abilities tenfold. All that she probably knew was that it was a very, very, very remote boarding school in Scotland and they would not be back until summer. This particular thought also brought up another question for Dumbledore: How were they going to pay for school supplies without any money? Heck, how were they paying to go to school in the first place? These questions replaced #1 and #2 on Tom's mental list.
"Don't worry about it, Billy. This means you won't have to see me for nine whole months," Tom exclaimed, with high sarcasm in his voice. "Who knows, maybe by the time I get back, you'll have found someone stupid enough to want to adopt you."
"Why you—"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Unless you want me to fetch Frankie." Tom threatened. Billy lowered his fist and stepped back. Ever since Billy found out Frankie was the one who cursed him so bad he broke his own nose; he was secretly frightened of her and the damage she and Tom could do together. Underling was one thing, but he could barely handle one cursed freak, let alone two. He put up a tough soldiers' front most days, for the other boys. But, on the inside, he was just a scared little boy afraid of what the monsters might do to him.
"Your guard dog won't do anything to me." Billy retaliated.
"Are you so sure?" Tom smirked, wickedly, to convince him his statement was false. Did he really want to test that theory now when they were so close to being out of this place? Yes, she was sickeningly kind and harmless, but attempting to hurt Tom was what made her want to fight back and be brave. She hadn't even really known Tom back then, yet she had still stood up to defend him. If it were to happen now, there was no doubt in his mind that she would make Billy pay. She would do anything for him.
Billy backed away, mumbling under his breath how apparently Tom wasn't worth the effort, before taking his boys and skulking off again. Tom sighed in relief, that he'd somehow managed to be snarky without getting beaten up and went back to his skeptical questions. Although, he also silently prayed that he wouldn't have to ask any of them, and this was real. He wanted more than anything for this all to be real and to be far, far away from this place at long last.
Meanwhile, Frankie was getting caught up with all the other orphan girls, brushing their teeth at the sink in the lavatory. Surprisingly, they weren't ganging up on her for a beat down, or calling her garbage to her face, but making polite conversation in-between brushes.
"It's so amazing that you and Tom get to go off to boarding school." Amy gushed, after she spit a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. Frankie stared at her in confusion. Amy Benson had dared to strike up a normal conversation with her for the first time in years. Although, it wasn't the most genuine of tones, she still had bothered to make the effort. "From what Mrs. Cole has said, it sounds spectacular. It's a bit unfair we can't all go."
"I agree with Amy. It's probably going to be a whole lot of fun!"
"Ugh—I cannot believe you and Tom get to be out there. Did you know my mum was planning to send me to finishing school in Paris before she died?"
"You're so lucky, Frankie."
It was more than a little disingenuous in tone, but she was not well versed in such two-faced flattery. Tom was a known liar, but when he didn't like you it was more than apparent. So, the foolishly optimistic person she was, thought the other girls truly liked her again, and allowed them back into her good terms. They talked to her throughout breakfast too, while thankfully the boys kept their distance. Tom wanted to speak with Frankie too, but he couldn't get near her. He could see the annoying circle trying to form around her, like before, and he was once again left glaring at them from a distance. All the girls were treating her like she was a new arrival again, speaking to her as if the whole cursed thing never happened. Frankie didn't mind though, unlike Tom, she was a forgiving person and always gave people the chance for redemption. Tom only lifted his deadly gaze at the ring of the doorbell and both he and Frankie already suspected who it was. Professor Albus Dumbledore had come to call.
"Good morning, Mrs. Cole. I have come to take Frankie and Tom shopping for their school supplies." Dumbledore greeted. Mrs. Cole blushed ever-so-slightly by his polite manner but, before she could mutter a single word, they had appeared behind her. The two were eager to get away from there, even if it was only for a little while.
"We're ready to leave, sir." Frankie smiled, giving Dumbledore a wave hello.
"Alright, let's be off then." Dumbledore smiled back. Mrs. Cole waved them farewell as the three set off down the street. Although, it was probably only because Dumbledore was there. Tom glared at her as they were walking away, and she hastily rushed back inside.
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They walked for what felt like forever along the busy streets of London. Time only moved that way because they were terribly anxious to get to Diagon Alley though. Meanwhile, Tom rounded off every single question he had about the wizarding world. Regarding their finances, it apparently had been arranged and was not something for them to worry about. Dumbledore handed them little brass keys and sacks full of what he claimed was wizard money. It was just enough for everything they would need for first year. The rest of their funds lied in their vaults at a place called Gringotts, which was apparently the wizard bank in Diagon Alley. They would go next year and unlock them on their own. The goblins that ran the bank were apparently very proud and dangerous creatures. Dumbledore thought it best to acclimate them more to the wizarding world first before introducing them. Finally, Tom's line of questioning ceased, as they reached the entrance of a dingy looking pub. It was a dark brick building on Charing Cross Road, with a slightly paint-chipped cauldron, on the sign above the door.
The Leaky Cauldron.
"You can't be serious—are you really trying to kidnap us, sir?" Tom remarked. He was straight-faced, but speaking towards Dumbledore with toxic amounts of sarcasm. "You must be new to this. You see—we don't have any value. We're orphans."
"Ha-ha! Oh no, Tom. Of course not," Dumbledore laughed. "This isn't just any old pub. It's the entrance to Diagon Alley. Come along, you'll see..."
They entered the building, despite Tom's continued skepticism. The inside was even shabbier then it had appeared on the outside. It was an empty place, as any bar would be mid-morning. People sat in chairs scattered around the room but none of them exhibited signs of magic. The barkeep was a man who was missing more than just a couple of his teeth. He had noticed them right away. Frankie and Tom shifted themselves behind Dumbledore, at the swift approach of this suspicious character. Tom wasn't really that frightened, however, if the barkeep was going to advance on them he wanted to be in a good position to grab Frankie and make a run for it.
"Ah, Albus. I haven't seen you in a while. Care for a pint?" he greeted them, with a broad grin, tossing his washrag over his shoulder.
"Not today, Tom. I have business to attend to." Dumbledore replied. He stepped aside to reveal Tom and Frankie were hidden behind him.
"Hello there, you two. Let me guess—first years?" the man smiled, probably noticing their nervous demeanor. The two nodded silently.
"Tom, I'd like you to meet Tom." Dumbledore added, presenting the two to each other. Who was he talking to? No one was entirely certain at the moment. It could've gone either way. Dumbledore had told Tom, the younger one, about this other Tom at some point on the way over here and this must've been him. For some reason, he already hated this other Tom, after only one mention. He was living proof that his name was too common, even among wizards. Tom scowled and kept his distance, "Now, we'd better be off, Tom."
"See you soon, Albus." Tom remarked, waving his dirty rag in the air as the three set off to the other end of the pub. Despite the fact Dumbledore had seemingly forgotten to introduce her, Frankie was the only one who waved back to him. Dumbledore opened the rear door into a sort of back alleyway, if that was what you could call it. It was a small space surrounded by a wall of brick with nothing more than a couple barrels and a few empty crates. Dumbledore walked in, followed by Frankie, with Tom in the back, who was getting skeptical yet again.
There was no way this could be the entrance to Diagon Alley. Unless this was the alley and Dumbledore had really made fools of them. It could still all be one ginormous ruse. He could take out a chloroformed rag and they'd wake up in "Hogwarts" all right. He and Frankie were far too clever to be taken to an asylum using the normal methods. However, instead of a rag, Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped the bricks. A few seconds of silent staring passed...
"Oh, I must have gotten the combination wrong again. I'm always forgetting the order for this wall."
He tried again and, before Tom could get out one last sarcastic remark, the bricks started moving out of the way. They created an archway into a new alley. It was crowded with people dressed in heavy cloaks and robes, carrying their new trinkets away from various shops. This might've seemed like a normal London winter scene if they weren't wearing heavy winter gear in the August sun and flourishing wands to help with the extra baggage. The shops were undoubtedly magic as well. One nearby had cages filled with owls, cats, and other curious creatures. Another across the street had cauldrons of all sizes and there was probably so much more in store for them down the winding cobble road.
"This is Diagon Alley. You will come here every year for your school things."
The pair stuck close behind him, as they began walking into the crowded street. But, their eyes wandered all around, trying to see every little thing at once. Tom's skepticism was practically nonexistent now. Magic was oozing out of every little crack it could, just to prove him wrong. For the first time ever, he and Frankie were walking down the street where everyone was like them. As sour a creature as Tom was, he couldn't help but feel the enchantment of such a thought.
They stopped at a shop filled with flourishing robes of all colors and sizes. Mannequins twirled in the window, flaunting their unique designs and style. The sign on the front read:
Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
"Ah—Hello there, Albus. It's been a long time since you've dropped by." a woman greeted them, as they entered. Tom had never once cared about clothing in his life, but in this moment, he wished he were dressed in something other than hand-me-downs that were running small. Frankie pulled down at the hem of her dress, indicating she felt similarly. There was a mix of splendorous gowns and magnificent robes on racks, taunting them. The woman who'd greeted Dumbledore, Madam Malkin, was squatted at the hem of a young girl in new robes, pulling the pins out of her reddish-brown braid tossed carelessly over her shoulder instead of a pin cushion. "Let me guess, more Hogwarts students?"
Tom and Frankie both nodded awkwardly.
"Just leave them with me, Albus. I'm almost done with Miss Thompson." Dumbledore nodded in agreement and said he would be waiting for them at a shop called Flourish and Blotts. They watched as she finished pinning and grabbed a needle. She did the first few stitches, but then it started going on its own, even taking out pins as it went and depositing them on a nearby cushion. Madam Malkin left the needle to do its work and she went into the backroom to get what she needed for Tom and Frankie. Meanwhile, the girl stood completely still. She was trying to be as mannequin-like as possible, so the needle would not make mistakes. However, her dark eyes flashed to Frankie and Tom's reflections standing behind her, with intrigue.
"What do you think?" she asked them. The girl twirled a little, pushing a lock of her short sooty hair from her face. Suddenly, she winced and refroze herself back into her former position. The needle must have accidentally stabbed her in the leg. Tom and Frankie remained quiet, not quite sure what to say to her. "Not very talkative...So, you're going to be first years at Hogwarts, are you?"
"Yes, we are." Tom stated, finally speaking up for the both of them. It was kind of intimidating, talking to someone their age from the magical world for the first time. It was another girl with magic. Another 'freak' like them.
"How nice! I'm going to be a first year as well. I'm Prue Thompson." she smiled, back at him. Tom's skeptic look returned. Girls didn't smile at him, nor did they dare to look him in the eye. So, what was wrong with her? At that thought, Madam Malkin returned. She stopped the needle, cut a few loose threads, and Prue was finished. She hopped off the stand to return to the fitting rooms and change. However, before leaving, she turned back to Tom and Frankie, "Goodbye for now. I hope you both end up in Ravenclaw. I know that's where I'm going to be..."
"Raven—what?"
Tom's question was left hanging on a loose thread. Madam Malkin pinned them into silence as she worked on getting them fitted for their school robes as well.
As soon as she was finished, they took off immediately for Flourish and Blotts to meet Dumbledore again. Even though it was only the second shop of the day, it was clearly the best store for them. Books were one of the only things Tom actually liked in the world and this store was stacked with thousands of them. All about this new world and all unread to him. There was no limit and yet it was such a small, clustered shop. Everything they could've ever wanted to know about magic was lying in the books on these shelves. So, they started grabbing every single title that crossed their eyes and peaked their interest. They would speed-read parts of them, memorize choice facts within, and quickly move onto the next, knowing their time here was very limited and they certainly didn't have enough money to buy all these books.
"Look at this one, Tom—Dark Wizards Throughout the Ages!" Frankie stated, coming up to Tom with yet another big leather-bound book that was not on the required list.
"Why'd you pick that up?" he inquired, curiously. No doubt it looked fascinating, but it was definitely not the type of book she would generally be intrigued by.
"A boy passed it off to me. He said it was interesting."
"What boy?"
"His name is Jacob. He mentioned he's going to be a first year too. I met him over there."
She pointed to a red-haired boy unable to be hidden in the crowd below, Tom assumed was the boy in question. He gave off a similar aura to the girl they'd briefly encountered in Madam Malkin. Different, but also familiar. This was his first glimpse of another boy with magic. He stared at Tom with bright ocean blue eyes and smiled. Tom quickly turned away. There was a sickening urge to go talk with him, but Tom didn't know what he might say. He wasn't exactly the master at making small talk. So, he suppressed the feeling and sat with Frankie in a nearby seat to have a look at the book instead. It was filled with the profiles of criminals and the details of their most gruesome histories. Tom was amazed at some of the stuff these wizards had done and what they had gotten away with. Both of them got caught up reading it, forgetting they were ever actually looking for someone, until he found them.
"It appears you two are getting by on your own..."
They were just about to read the profile of the "Great Grigor", when they looked up to see Dumbledore was hovering above them. His expression flashed slightly panicked, as he saw the book in their hands, like any educator would for letting two eleven-year old children get their hands on such a book. However, instead of swiping it away or yelling, he simply returned his expression to a normal, calm one. It was surely nothing to worry about. Yet out of all the books, in the store. He had thankfully caught them just in time. "Would it be alright if you two finished up the rest of the shopping on your own? Something very urgent has come up at the school and I must deal with it."
"I've been saying all along that we don't need a babysitter! Go away now, sir." Tom sneered, angrily.
"Tom!" Frankie snapped at him, giving a very disapproving look. "Don't worry, sir. I think we'll be able to manage without you."
He wrote down some directions to the different shops they needed to go to and gave them their lists back. Just as he handed them everything they would need to survive the rest of the trip, a large woman that was trying to get a book on the shelf stepped right between them. It was just for a split second, but by the time she had gotten the book she'd needed and excused herself for getting in their way, Dumbledore was gone.
So was the book on dark wizards, but they were both too distracted by another vanishing act to notice the open book was no longer sitting in Frankie's lap.
"How did he do that?" Frankie asked, instantly forgetting that they were in the wizarding world now. Dumbledore disappearing amongst the crowd was definitely not the most obscure or spectacular thing they'd seen today. She looked out into the mass and peered behind nearby stacks, but he was obviously gone. Tom, on the other hand, went for a book he had just put down before Frankie had called him over. He had just come across the term a moment ago.
"It's called Disapparition. It's the ability to transport yourself instantaneously from one place to another. We'll be able to learn how to do it when we turn seventeen." Tom concluded, after he finished shuffling through the pages. He shut the book and put it back to where he found it. They needed to leave too. "Now, let's get our textbooks and get out of here. At this rate, we'll be here till nightfall..."
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It only took them a second to find their textbooks and, after a brutal shoving war to get in line to pay for them, they were off once again. Frankie and Tom finally got some progress made after they left Flourish and Blotts. The other shops weren't as interesting to them, so it was more of just looking for what they needed and getting it as quickly as possible. The last shop Dumbledore had written down was a shop called Ollivanders. They walked further down the alley, until they found the small old shop with shiny golden letters on the front:
Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
They walked inside and saw thousands of small black boxes surrounding them, everything covered in a thin layer of dust. This shop seemed exempt from the chaos of the rest of the shops in the alley. Despite how boring it might have looked; Tom was actually somewhat excited for this shop in particular. He had seen Dumbledore's wand in action, and it was far greater magic then he could've ever done. A wand was what he had really wanted out of today. It was extraordinary to think that in those boxes was the power source of every future wizard and witch. An old man sat sleeping in a swivel chair at the front counter, completely unaware of the fact two people had entered his store. Tom stepped up to the counter of the old man, looked closely at his sleeping face, and dinged the bell on the table. The man instantly awoke, took one look at Tom, and started screaming.
"The Dark One approaches! The man who will start war and hardships throughout the nation. Evil demon! Give him no wand to kill."
Suddenly, another man came from seemingly out of nowhere, with a desperate motion to shut the other one up before he went any further. His pale-silver eyes glared at the older man, and he quickly shoved the swivel chair into the nearby closet. He put a broom up against the door, for good measure, and let out a huge sigh of relief as he pushed a lock of his wavy golden-brown hair from his face.
"My apologies. Father is getting a bit senile, as of late. It's his Seer blood. You aren't even the first person he's graced with a murderous prophecy today. He told the last girl that came in that she was going to kill her entire family—Now, what can I do for you?" the man apologized, returning to the counter. Tom and Frankie seemed taken aback, as they had been with most of the people they had met today. He just stuffed an old senile man into a closet and was trying to pull the charming salesman act. Was everyone in the magical world like this?
"We're here for wands." Tom stated, as if it wasn't already pretty obvious. "I'll try not to kill anyone with mine."
"First years?" he questioned. The two nodded silently, returning to their slightly nervous demeanors. "I just recently graduated from Hogwarts myself. I was in Ravenclaw. Now, I'm making wands and taking over the family business."
"What the hell is a Raven—?"
"Have you made any wands yet?" Frankie asked, cutting across yet another one of Tom's rude outbursts.
"I've only got a few so far. However, I'm not sure I have a talent for it, like my father did." he answered, scratching the back of his neck, nervously.
"Can we try them?"
"I suppose if you really want too. I wouldn't count on any of them being the right fit, though." the man answered, sounding surprised. "Alright, bratty boy—you're up first then."
"My name is Tom Riddle." Tom hissed at him. Although, the man wasn't listening. He removed a tape measurer from a drawer and stuck it uncomfortably in Tom's armpit. Ollivander briefly examined the measurements, as the tape quickly raced its way across Tom, and disappeared amongst the shelves at a vigorous speed the second the tape had finished. They waited a few minutes, taking the time to chew on the magical scenery outside. He returned with an armful of boxes and set them in a wobbly stack on the other end of the counter, except one, which he brought back to Tom.
"I think this one is for you. 13½", Yew, Phoenix feather core. It's a beauty—but was a real pain in the arse to make." the man added, taking out the wand and holding it out. It was a sharp looking, dulling white wand. The handle looked like a bone. Tom looked at it skeptically, but nonetheless took the wand into his hand. The second he held it; the wand showered the room in a brilliant cool light. A couple men came rushing in, wands at the ready, because they thought the shop was under some kind of attack. Ollivander shooed them away, insisting it was all fine. Eventually, the light disappeared, and the room returned to normal again, "—That's definitely a yes. It likes you a lot. You must have a similar temper."
"Likes me?" Tom questioned. It was true he could feel the connection between himself and the wand. It felt like it grabbed him right back and immediately became an extension of his slender skeletal arm. However, what did Ollivander mean by it 'likes' him? That was a strange comment to make. It was clearly a wand. An inanimate object. Not a person.
"I believe it's your turn, miss." he exclaimed, gesturing for her to come up to him. Frankie stepped up to the counter, while Tom retreated back with his new wand. The man went back over to the pile of boxes and grabbed another one. "Perhaps his wand's brother would suit you. Holly, 11", Phoenix feather core. The same phoenix, actually. Don't ask me what happened! I can't really explain it... "
She waved the wand and a small light illuminated from the tip, but it grew dark a few moments later. Frankie placed it upon the counter with a discouraged sigh. She tried another, and another, and another. The man gave stats for every new wand she tried and, each time he called out the materials, Tom scoffed in disbelief. Unicorns, dragon heartstrings, phoenix feathers, troll whiskers. What a load of poppycock.
Nothing was working for her. It came down to the last wand in the pile of wands made by this man and then she'd have to start trying the ones made by the other ridiculous man in the closet. The last wand was pitch-black with a silvery moon, spinning tree roots onto the handle. It didn't seem to fit her bubbly personality, but he merely placed it in her hand, and it reacted. A fiery red light radiated around Frankie and the wand. Boundless winds swirled around them to shake the heavens and the dusts from their long resting spots. Everything was jumbled and spinning, until the wand decided it was enough. Tom was stunned. Ollivander was also fairly stunned by this, which was more surprising given how this wasn't exactly his first day in the magical world. It was like they'd been transported to another dimension for a brief moment. There were several people and street vendors across the way complaining about not being able to see after her light faded.
"Oh, thank heavens. The thing actually works!" he laughed, hysterically. Tom side-eyed the crazy laughing madman, while Frankie continued to stare at the wand. What was supposed to be so defective about it? It looked normal enough. He glanced over at their confused expressions and realized he'd need to explain, "I've been experimenting. I want to create my own techniques and use new materials. That one's a weird one alright. 13", Pear, and—I can't believe it— a Niffler hair core. No wonder it was so flashy! I mean, my father worked with Selkie hairs and Kneazle whiskers, but this is something else—"
"We still have no idea what you're talking about. You sound simply deranged."
"Tom!"
"Owls and toads for pets, I can stomach that much nonsense. But, really, who believes in things like phoenixes, unicorns, and Nifflers? What's a Niffler even supposed to be anyway?" Tom stated. "What kind of idiot would believe in all that stuff?"
"Clearly, you haven't been in this world very long, my friend." the man laughed, as if Tom were the crazy one. Ollivander's eyes wandered to the register, before he wheeled his chair in its direction. He tapped it with his own wand, and it shot open with a chime. It was empty, except for a black fuzzy ball. He took it out and presented it to them. "This is a Niffler— Nimbus! Come out and say hello, ya' lazy little thing. This nice young lady is buying your wand."
The creature unwound and slowly revealed a long snout. Its golden amber eyes were narrow and tired, but it only took seconds to realize something was going on. It scanned them, looking for any hint of appeal, but had no choice but to disregard them a few seconds later. Orphans couldn't be shiny.
"It's a mole." Tom stated, for a matter of fact. Was that honestly supposed to be a big reveal? A peculiar creature to keep in a cash register, but not to exist.
"I don't know what a mole is, but can it do this." He tipped the creature over and the money that was supposed to be in the register spilled onto the counter. The stream of gold galleons went on for a few minutes before stopping. Ollivander set the Niffler back down and it quickly went back to stuffing the money back into its stomach pouch. He looked at Tom, triumphantly, knowing Tom had no more counter arguments, "Read a book, why don't you."
"We've just read practically half the bookstore." Tom responded. He quickly searched his mind trying to recall if he'd seen anything about unicorns or phoenixes. Sure enough, he remembered reading something about the magical healing powers of phoenix tears in their quick search.
"You seem very passionate about wands," Frankie laughed, trying to fill the awkward silence. "—and I thought you said that you didn't have a talent for this."
"I suppose I was just being modest. I'm pretty spectacular, aren't I?" he laughed, with a foolish grin. They were both laughing; however, Tom had reached the end of his patience. He was through with all this nonsense. It didn't matter what was in them. He had his wand and she had hers. This was over.
"It's time for us to leave."
Tom returned his wand to the counter and Frankie followed his lead, but in a less agitated manner. The man placed the wands back into their boxes, pushed them off to the side of the massive pile, and started to ring them up at the cash register even though all the money was still being picked up by the Niffler. Tom smacked the galleons down onto the counter with the rest. Frankie made it a point to give them directly to the creature and thank it for her wand. The second the boxes were given to them, Tom started to pull her out. "Come along, Frankie..."
"I'm Garrick Ollivander, by the way. Good luck at Hogwarts." he added, waving them goodbye. Frankie smiled and waved goodbye, as Tom continued to tug her away.
"That man was a complete nutter! His father too. Who let people like them make wands?" Tom exclaimed to her, once they were at a far enough distance away from the shops and the crowds. Normally, he would've let her go, but he held a tight grip on her hand.
"Don't be so cruel, Tom. I found Ollivander to be rather nice." she argued back at him. This was a new anger she didn't understand. Also, she wasn't entirely comfortable with him practically dragging her by the hand. Her fingers didn't meld correctly with his sharp bones, so they were loosely sticking out and waiting for his grip to break.
"Of course, you would..." he muttered. Everyone was nice in Frankie's eyes. That's obviously why she was still hanging around him. It was clear that, based on her interaction with Ollivander, and even with the boy in the book shop, that Frankie would fit into this world just fine. She seemed destined to excel already. But, Tom was doubtful he would do the same. The feeling of being an outcast wasn't fading as quickly as he thought it would.
They walked through the crowd until they saw a clearing. The space spread out into a stone park or a town square with street artists and performers. Tom and Frankie found an empty bench nearby and stopped to check Dumbledore's list for how to get back to the orphanage. Unfortunately, he seemed to have left out that part.
"Maybe we should ask someone for directions." Tom suggested, looking around for a reasonable source of information. Their best bet was probably the man with the camera that was yelling at the crowd near them,
"Step right up and get your very own moving picture souvenir! Commemorate your trip to the infamous Diagon Alley with an amazing photograph!"
"We should go take a picture, Tom. It's our first time in the wizarding world after all." Frankie exclaimed, cheerfully. She pointed to the examples of pictures that the man had on his board. There were couples doing waltzes and groups of friends who were smiling and waving at them.
"No. We have to figure out how to get back to the normal part of London." Tom replied, looking back at Dumbledore's list as if it would give him some sort of a clue. "Mrs. Cole is going to lock us under the stairs again, if we aren't back before sundown..."
"Aw, don't be a stick in the mud, Tom." she pouted. "We can also ask him for directions if you want. He's bound to know the way."
"Fine then." he sighed. There was no point fighting her on this. Tom had already practically dragged her from Ollivander and had been in a fouler mood ever since. It was the least he could've done. Not to mention how determined she seemed to do this and the fact that he was just a little bit curious about how they got the pictures to move.
"Hello there, you two! Would you like a picture?" the man inquired, as they walked up to him. Tom and Frankie nodded and walked in front of the camera. "Okay, just stand right there then—Perfect! Now, why don't you two dance? It's popular for couples' photos."
Tom could feel himself slightly blushing hot through his pale skin. He didn't know how to dance. However, Frankie was suddenly spewing confidence and pulled him closer. They started to do a strange combination of spinning and dancing. She held onto his hands, and he quickly felt a similar feeling she'd previously just felt. New and a little uncomfortable. He tried not to close them around hers and also ended up with his fingers rigidly out and unsure. Tom couldn't see the world around him and had no choice but to focus his attention on her face. There was something different about her in this moment. He just seemed to notice she was only a little shorter than him. Her hazel hair radiated in the sunlight to show that there was actually quite a lot of red and blond hidden within it that made up the light color. Something that could only be captured by the sun or else he probably never would have noticed. In short, in this moment, he was just seeming to notice all the little things that made her beautiful.
She stopped swirling and stared at him too. But, it wasn't in the same way.
"Are you alright, Tom?" Frankie asked. She'd noticed him staring. "Was I spinning us too fast?"
"No, I'm fine—Can we go back now?" Tom answered, adverting his gaze over at the crowd instead. For some reason, he couldn't take looking at her any longer.
"Yes." Frankie smiled back. She never seemed to be affected by his horrid attitude. Tom thought he would know why by now, but, like most of her, it remained a mystery. Although, she was considered his one and only friend, she never really talked about her past before she came to the orphanage. He decided not to press on it, considering he had not given her much of a past to go off either. Their friendship was in the here and now, and that was all that currently mattered to them.
While they waited for the picture to develop, they asked the man for directions back to the non-magical portion of London. It turned out the way out was simply the way they came in. Frankie was busy trying to look over the crowd to see exactly where the alley was, leaving Tom to collect the picture for them.
"Here it is. I think it turned out nice," the man exclaimed, handing Tom a copy of the photo and a small box. Before Tom could ask him about the extra item, the moving picture man answered, with a wink, "Think of it as a little extra something. For your girl."
"Not a couple. We're only eleven, sir." Tom corrected him.
"—Oh! Sorry lad. I wasn't trying to stir up any trouble or make things awkward. If you don't want it, I'll just take it back—"
"Will she still like it?" Tom asked, curiously. He might've still felt a slight guilty for his attitude towards Frankie at the wand shop. Certainly, things would blow over given a little more time, but whatever this was might help the process a little.
"I reckon it'll be just as important of a totem between friends. Maybe even more so."
Tom accepted the box, even though he wasn't too sure what it was, and placed it and the photo carefully into his cauldron with the rest of his things. They thanked the man and started to head back to the side alley from which they had first arrived. The two walked briskly back through Diagon Alley with the urgency to get back as the sun was setting. They got to the entrance when Frankie suddenly turned around to face him.
"Are you ready to go back, Tom?"
"Ready." Tom replied, truthfully. It was too much to handle in just one day. It was like they had just been dropped into a foreign country and expected to completely fend for themselves. It might've been better if Dumbledore had stayed. Tom couldn't deal with all these people who were just as different as him and Frankie and yet still managed to be different from them. In this moment, this world was still rather strange and exhausting to him. However, he was absolutely certain of one thing.
He was already in love with it.