Frankie and Tom's relationship ought to have been flourishing from that point onwards. A confession should've been within a month, at the very least. However, everything between them was put on an unexpected pause...
After the hectic holiday season was complete, Slughorn and Beery had decided to form a kind of unofficial social club for the other professors, so they could gossip and have a bit of fun while enjoying some of the finer things in life. It was generally a student-free gathering, however, sometimes Slughorn invited Frankie to join them. She listened to the professors talk about their lives, their subjects, and of course, they just had to tell her all about their school years. It'd been such a long time since sharing the same old youthful stories with a fresh mind. As Frankie suspected from the Christmas party, Slughorn was actually in the same year as her parents at Hogwarts and were featured characters in a lot of his Hogwarts memories. This also made Frankie quickly realize who his Gryffindor bullies were. Her father and Ogg were a duo much like Monty and Quin. Righteously cruel, with straight edge views of what was good and evil. Exclusively kindhearted to their own kind. However, despite the amount of torment that befell anyone who tried to get within ten feet of her, Slughorn had nothing but lovely things to say about her mother, Elizabeth. Apparently, she was also constantly harassed by a Malfoy and had many similar philosophies to Frankie. She was eager to make friends with everyone, regardless of house, and bonded with Slughorn over a particular interest in Potions. They didn't talk much out of class, but she had a similarly warm glow that he couldn't help but let soak through his exterior. He warmed up a little more to her father after seventh year when he got serious and entered the Triwizard Tournament, but never was able to forgive him fully. Although, he didn't really know the couple too well, it was still nice to hear him talk about them in their day.
However, after a while, Frankie began to wonder why they were coddling her with tea and fond stories all of a sudden. It'd been over a year now since she learned the truth. Why had they decided to go through all this trouble now? Eventually, she figured out that it was actually because of Tom. He no longer had the time to spend with her and Slughorn felt bad. He'd been unable to free Tom from Pringle's clutches after an apparent incident that happened while Tom was in the trophy room. Although, Pringle cut him some slack after the Baron made Peeves confess to wrecking the room, it was actually Tom who insisted he keep up with the cleaning and repairs. His terms were that Prue be completely spared and that there wouldn't be any mention of the incident on either of their records, so they could both still be considered for prefects the next year. He also required Sunday off, so he wouldn't entirely miss seeing Frankie and still be able to keep his promise. Pringle didn't want to deal with the mess himself, so he agreed. Tom really didn't need to do any of it, but honestly, he needed a distraction from the dead end of his research.
While Frankie was flooded with information about her parents, Tom spent most of the little free time he could salvage, combing the library for even the littlest trace of his father. Past student records, Auror records, and records of various Ministry officials. Tom ravaged through anything he could get his hands on. He even got Slughorn to write him passes for the restricted section of books, in the case his father was a dark wizard. Although, he didn't really want to be associated with some lowlife, it would make some logical sense of why he abandoned his mother. Evil madmen couldn't love properly. Tom unfortunately had to give up the search completely around exam time. Exams were not especially hard, at least for people who had studied like him and Frankie. However, it was not time to get overconfident. Next year they would be doing their O.W.L's. Frankie watched even Minerva sweat about it and she never worried about tests before. Thankfully, they'd have nothing better to do for the next three months at the orphanage.
As much as they didn't want it to, summer came back around once again. Tom and Frankie were being forced to go back to Wool's Orphanage, as promised. It was an agonizing train ride to think that in a few hours they'd be going back to their old rooms and be living the same miserable lives they had tried so desperately to escape. Mrs. Cole had been waiting at King's Cross for them, acting even colder than usual, if that was even possible. Clearly, she was upset. Since Frankie wasn't on her way out of her life and she didn't have a big fat check in her hand. The doctor seemed to have called off the search and backed off the day they moved to the Leaky Cauldron. Barkeep Tom must have told Dumbledore they were there, just like Tom had predicted he would and made the necessary memory modifications.
There was nothing that could be done. It was back to yet another sad, normal summer at Wool's Orphanage...
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"What is that you're reading?"
Tom was trying to grab a particular book from Frankie's hand. The two sat at their table in the garden, reading whatever they had left of their books. Unfortunately, most of their school things had been locked away. Tom's empty threats had done a number on Mrs. Cole, and she'd taken their wands the second they got back. They had only managed to sneak out a few books she'd hidden in the cupboard under the stairs. After all this time, she refused to even think about the fact that they were wizards. Tom supposed that it showed how ignorant muggles are to magic. Blinding themselves to it even when it's staring them in the face.
Frankie tried to keep the book away from his boney skeletal hands, but it was no use. Tom had swiped it from her with ease. It was a brown, leather bound book, whose title wasn't even written on the front. Of course, when he opened it he realized why. The title had been written on the first page.
Dozens of Deadly Potions
The book didn't even name the author. Of course, if they had wanted to be hunted down by the Ministry for writing such a book they would have left their name. It was filled with explicit instructions and various ways on how to brew death in a bottle.
"What an interesting subject matter. When did you become such a dark witch?" Tom inquired, flipping through the book. "Can we use some of these on her?"
"As much as I'd like to, she's the only one with the key to our things," Frankie replied, much to his surprise. "—Also, I am not a dark witch! I just found them somewhere..."
"Another one of your mystery books, is it?" Tom inquired, curiously. She nodded silently. Eventually, he got her to spill a little bit about her Valentine's Day adventures. After cursing Malfoy, she was hiding out in an unused classroom and found these set of books. They were all like this to his understanding. She seldom ever let him near them, let alone read them. She insisted she kept them purely for study and that the key to fighting the Dark Arts would be understanding how they operate. She was fairly determined not to let them take any more of the people she loved. Tom found this to be fair and predictable, but still found a small joy in teasing her about her choices in literature. "I always thought you were a bit of a goody two-shoes. Turns out you're a natural at being evil—When shall you transfer to Slytherin then?—We'll make the best prefects together."
Tom laughed at his own cruel humors, while she pouted at him, quite childishly. Frankie grabbed Tom's nothing-of-interest book off the table and tried to smack him with it. She did not succeed though. He used her wicked Potions book to shield himself from her sudden attack.
"You still need more practice." he laughed, with a slight smirk on his face. She cracked a slight smile, and they exchanged each other's books back. Suddenly, the younger kids were coming up to them and pulling at Frankie to come and play with them. If something had changed being back at the orphanage, it was people's attitudes towards them. The others looked at them much more differently now than they used too. Most of the kids like Amy Benson and Billy Stubb were gone by now, as well as the rumors of what a pair of demons they were. They couldn't use their powers, so Tom had merely become a seemingly charming, yet slightly cold and angry, young man, while Frankie had become a kind and beautiful young girl. They were still anomalies in such a place, but not exactly in the same as they were thought before.
"I thought I told you two to stay in your rooms!" Mrs. Cole appeared from the house and the kids dispersed from the table back into the house. Even they knew what was about to go down. She didn't like it when the kids clung to Tom and Frankie like older siblings. They were bad influences.
"Even prisoners get outside time, you know?" Tom stated, not looking up from reading his book to acknowledge her angry glare. "If we're being forced to stay in this hellhole, you could at least let us enjoy the weather occasionally."
"Watch your mouth, Tom!" Mrs. Cole shouted back at his remark. "—Oh, why did Mr. Fields have to withdraw last minute? Honestly, you used to be a lot less trouble before she got here."
"I disagree. She keeps me intact. I can't stand it here without her and, if she had left with that man—you wouldn't be here either." Tom stated, calmly, still looking like he was more interested in his 'nothing-of-interest' book rather than this conversation. However, he looked up at her with one of his famous paralyzing glares, and added,
"I would have made sure of it..."
Mrs. Cole jumped back with the impact of his words. His voice had gone from calm and normal to serious and terrifying, in a matter of seconds. She gave the pair one last scowl, before retreating inside to safety.
"Did you really mean that?" Frankie asked, once she was sure Mrs. Cole was gone.
"Of course, wouldn't you want to get rid of her to? Last week, she was so desperate to be free of us, she tried selling you off to a brothel and send me off into the war! She's a—"
"I didn't mean that. I meant the part about me."
"I wouldn't have said it, if I didn't mean it." Tom replied, re-fixing his eyes back onto the book. He gazed up to acknowledge her, just for a moment. She was slightly blushing and had a big smile on her face. "Oh, come on. Don't be daft. It wasn't some big secret. You knew that already..."
"I don't know how I would survive without you either." she beamed back.
"Well, I'm unfortunately not going anywhere. So, you don't ever have to worry..." Tom replied, quickly pretending to return to the book and act like he didn't care. However, he was still watching her precious expression out of the corner of his eye. She rested her head on the table and gazed into the bushes for a long moment. It seemed like it was only yesterday she had popped out of them and met him. That's why he had fought to stay here with her under the summer sun. The spot where they had met was the only part he liked about the orphanage.
"We shall never be apart."
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They were eventually forced back into the house by Mrs. Cole. It was no use to try and stay out there all night. Tom would've done it just to enrage her, though. She sent them straight up to their rooms without supper, of course, after Tom's threat and their refusal to obey her. They were used to not getting meals by now. It was the third time this week and it was only Tuesday.
As it got later and later into the night, Tom finally heard the knock on his door he had been waiting for. Frankie had stopped having nightmares and merely started coming there out of habit. She was holding Rue and another one of the books she had found.
"I don't really enjoy this one." she stated, yet was still drowsily handing the book over to him. She must've been tired. If she were in her right mind, she wouldn't have let him touch it. However, half-asleep Frankie had no idea what she was doing and Tom's curiosity about the books trumped his small sense of morality. This book's title read, Most Macabre Monstrosities.
"You don't really enjoy any of these." he reasoned. Although, Frankie enjoyed magical creatures, this book was not a pleasant representation of them. Even the Monster Book of Monsters made sure that the "monsters" were generally highlighted with somewhat of a good light, as essential players in the magical ecosystem. This book seemed to only show the rare and most gruesomely classified species. Tom flipped through the horrifying images, slightly wondering if whatever they had encountered in the Shrieking Shack during their third year would be in here, before he stopped on a particularly terrifying page.
The Basilisk
Of the many fearsome beast and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deathly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of a rooster, which is fatal to it.
"Even Hagrid wouldn't like this book. It paints magical creatures in such a bad light." She pulled away the book from him, like he had stolen it, rather than she had given it to him.
"Hagrid?"
"Rubeus Hagrid. He's in my house, a couple years below us. He likes creatures too," Frankie explained. It made sense for Tom not to know him. "He's very tall and big—of course, you would be to if you were half-giant—" She slammed her hands over her mouth, suddenly registering what she was saying. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone Hagrid was half-giant. He had accidentally told Frankie in his first year and she was supposed to be keeping it a secret.
"He's half-giant?" Tom inquired, curiously. He vaguely remembered seeing Hagrid once or twice. One time, he was getting scolded by Pringle for sneaking off to the Forbidden Forrest. Tom did think he was freakishly tall, but he didn't ever suspect that he was half-giant. Was that even physically possible?
"No, he isn't! I didn't say that."
"Don't try to lie to me. You haven't got the talent for it."
"—Alright, he is. But, you can't tell anyone. He says that people in the wizarding world have a prejudice against people like him and he doesn't want anyone at school to know." Frankie admitted.
"I won't tell." It's not like he really had anyone to tell that would care. His friends couldn't be bothered about the reputation of some lowly Gryffindor two years below them. Tom thought it best they not read anymore of the disturbing book, or talk about school. But, they had to do something else rather than sleep. Suddenly, there was a low growl and they looked at each other, unsure about whose stomach it was. Tom grabbed the lantern off his desk and gestured for her to follow him. They quietly cracked open the door into the pitch-black hallway and made their way downstairs to the kitchen. All he saw was a couple of jars of questionable jelly and a box of Saltine crackers. He took the box and hopped back down. They were probably the best thing you could get in the orphanage, especially since the food shortage from the war. He turned to leave with Frankie only to find the lantern left on the table. He grabbed it and followed the sound within the silence. She was suddenly illuminated in the light holding a board game box. It was Scrabble, the only muggle board game Tom enjoyed playing and coincidentally the only board game that the orphanage owned. She was planning an all-nighter, obviously. They were too evenly matched though. The game would go on forever...
The next morning Frankie woke up still in Tom's room. They were lying on the floor playing Scrabble and eating Saltines for only god knows how long before they eventually both fell asleep. She quickly packed up the game and put it and the half-full box of crackers under Tom's bed for later. Frankie walked over to the door to leave before Tom woke up, but the door would not open. She kept jiggling the knob, until all the noise began to make him stir.
"You're making a racket." Tom yawned, drowsily. She was desperately trying to open his door with what looked like extreme difficulty. "What are you still doing in here? Do you want us to get caught?"
"The door won't open." Frankie huffed, turning the doorknob over and over. Tom walked over to the door and jiggled the knob as well, swatting her hand away before she ended up breaking it off the door. She was probably just being too hasty. However, upon further attempts, Frankie was proven right. It would not open.
"Mrs. Cole must have locked it." he concluded, giving up on shaking it.
"She can do that?" she inquired, sounding surprised. Since, when did these doors have locks?
"She doesn't do it too often. However, she does have the power to," Tom explained. Mrs. Cole, for some reason unknown to Tom, never locked the rooms of the orphans, despite how cruel she seemed. He honestly thought it would've been the best solution to keep incidents from happening when he was younger. But it wasn't like he was ever going to tell her that. "She probably locked yours too, thinking you were in there."
"Why?"
"Why would she assume you were sleeping in your own room?—By gosh, I haven't the faintest clue why she would think such a thing." Tom mused, sarcastically. "She's probably just trying to keep us inside for the day. Don't worry, she'll have to let us out eventually..."
However, a little while later, they could hear different voices traveling up the stairs and it was clear why she had wanted to keep them locked in their rooms. Today must've been yet another showing day and, rather than hide them, she was even more eager to try and sell them off somewhere. Mrs. Cole was particularly desperate to dispose of Frankie after what she'd done last summer. She claimed that a brothel mistress was the headmistress of a fancy Parisian finishing school that could board her all year round. She didn't care what it took. Thankfully, Tom was also questioned and saw through their deceit almost immediately. There was a knock on the door and, even though he had not given consent to enter, Mrs. Cole unlocked the door and opened it.
"Tom, I have some—"she paused only for a moment, as she stared at Frankie sitting beside him on the bed. Her brow furrowed, but she surprisingly still kept her composure. "What is she doing in here?"
"Don't be snippy. You're the one who locked her in."
"That's not possible, unless she and you have been..." A fifteen-year-old boy and girl meeting late at night could apparently only mean one thing.
"Of course! That's exactly what happened," Tom replied, immediately picking up on what she was thinking. If he played along, he'd be able to put a stop her stupid misguided plans to have them adopted. "She's always coming over in the middle of the night. Our rooms are right next to each other—what did you expect to happen?"
"You mean to tell me, that this has happened more than once!?" Mrs. Cole shrieked.
"That's right. We've being meeting in my room at night since we were at least thirteen," Tom said. What he was saying wasn't really lying. It just wasn't explaining the truth. She was a sick, narrow-minded muggle. It was her fault for assuming he was doing something impure with her late in the night. Also, compared to the lies he had to tell that mistress to convince her to back off; these insinuations were downright clean. "—Although, after our little runaway adventure, needless to say it's becoming quite more of a regular affair."
Mrs. Cole looked taken aback with disgust. It was just as Tom thought; she had been thinking of something different that the two were doing in his room alone in the middle of the night. Tom didn't care what she thought, though. All that he cared about was that there was a group of muggles standing in the doorway listening to his every word.
"You! Get back to your room!" she hissed, angrily. She wouldn't even give Frankie time to grab her book, before she yanked her out of the room by her wrist. Frankie looked simply befuddled. Tom wasn't sure if she was still trying to process the crass insinuations in vain, or was just baffled at the idea of them intimately together. Mrs. Cole unlocked her own door and shoved her back inside the room, trying to ignore all the people staring down at her with looks of severe judgment. Tom had officially ensured they would never be adopted. No one would want them now.
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As one could imagine, after that little incident Mrs. Cole used their keys a lot more often and went back to hiding them from potential parents. It would seem Tom's lying had worked yet again. Of course, it backfired a bit not being able to see Frankie. The two were locked up for the rest of the summer and Mrs. Cole even canceled the annual trip to the countryside, just so they couldn't be together. She also pointlessly hung up crosses in their rooms as if they would bind them from doing more evil and sinning. Frankie's 'accidentally' ended up on the neighbor's roof, while Tom intentionally turned his upside down because God didn't seem to be doing it fast enough. However, they did find ways to talk to each other and relieve the many days of boredom. Thankfully, they at least had windows that she couldn't lock, and no authority figures around to yell at them about haphazardly hanging out them to talk to one another.
Mrs. Cole was unfortunately forced to let them back out when they had to go shopping for school supplies. It was a morning in late August when she reluctantly opened up the doors. They had four hours, at most. If they weren't back before then, there would somehow be even more consequences.
"I've missed you." Frankie whispered, as she met Tom in the foyer. She knew Mrs. Cole was watching them, so she couldn't say too much, but she would risk telling him that much.
"Likewise—Now, let's get going, before she realizes we could go shopping on different days." Tom whispered back.
"I heard that." Mrs. Cole hissed from behind them.
"Run for it..."
The two tore off running down the street, as far as they could go until they eventually reached Leicester Square. They'd almost forgotten what it was like to be back in the more central part of London. Many buildings and landmarks were destroyed, what were once urban basements were now inner-city pig farms, and disused roof-top spaces had turned into allotments for growing vegetables and flowers, to ease the problems of the food shortage. All notions of class related entertainment and social etiquettes were usurped. The city was still trashed from the Blitz, and they had to wear gasmasks for precaution.
"Maybe if we're lucky they'll drop a bomb on the orphanage, while we're at school." Frankie reasoned, as they stopped to dawn their masks.
"Wishful thinking—But, I've been hoping that ever since the bloody war started and they have yet to pay up. Come on then!" Tom shouted towards the sky. She couldn't help but chuckle a little. He was glad that after all this time she was finally displaying some of her discontent at the orphanage. It was long overdue, but still wouldn't make up for the freedom that they had lost. Once they were both decent enough not to get stopped by guards, Tom took her hand and they briskly started heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. They looked like a creepy couple, wearing their gasmasks and holding hands. But, then again, so did everyone else in the city. They shuffled into the Leaky Cauldron a few minutes later, making sure to keep on going straight to the alleyway and not get stopped by...
"Nice disguises, but I can still tell it's you two." Tom chuckled. You could hear an amplified sigh before Tom removed his mask. He didn't want to have to face the landlord, after he had clearly sold them out to Dumbledore. However, it didn't look like he had a choice anymore.
"We weren't trying to hide," Tom lied. "Apparently, the muggles are still warring. It's been like three years. I thought this would all be resolved by now."
"Consider yourself lucky you're not fighting in this war, boy. If you weren't a wizard off at Hogwarts, you'd be out there." Tom added. Frankie clutched Tom's arm tighter, like just by saying that he would be drafted. Mrs. Cole had been trying her best to lie about his age and get him in, but thankfully his lack of birth certificate was actually working in his favor since he didn't look remotely eighteen yet. Tom remained expressionless. Even if it weren't for all those technicalities, he was not afraid of the war.
"Are there any wizards in the war?" Frankie asked, finally remembering to take off her mask as well.
"Who knows? Probably some decided to go. It's not like they can use their magic though, so I can't imagine why they would." Tom answered, simply. "Most of the time dark wizards will go out to the war zones, so they can kill muggles without suspicion."
"Well, this has been a lovely conversation—But, we have to be off to Diagon Alley now." Tom added, hastily. He couldn't stand this any longer. If he hadn't already disliked the other Tom before he turned them in, he sure couldn't stand him now. Tom began pulling Frankie towards the alley, until he forgot that they needed the other Tom, and had to stop and further make the situation more awkward. "We need your assistance..."
"No problem. See you two later then!"
He didn't even deserve to get a goodbye, despite being genuinely kind and helpful. Tom had tapped the bricks for them and the two set off into the busy alley immediately. Unlike London, Diagon Alley had no notions of a war going on. It looked the same as it did when they first saw it four years ago. The same old shops, the same old people, even the same weather. Sunny August sunlight flooded the alley, even when the muggle world was muggy and cloudy. As for the same people, it was a little more understandable. Hogwarts kids shrouded the place this time of year. Although, Tom would've liked to keep holding her hand, they were now in a place that he was not supposed too. Just as he was about to let her go, the crowd forcibly ripped her from him. She was pulled back, while the natural ebb of the crowd continued to push him forward. What he wasn't able to go back and see was that it hadn't been the crowd's doing. A certain blonde individual had grabbed her hand and pulled Frankie back with her.
"Daphne!" Frankie exclaimed, giving her a hug. Thankfully, it was her, rather then what could've possibly been Malfoy or Lyra. They moved off to the side, so they could continue with their reunion and start on the summer stories. "I'm sorry I haven't replied to your last letter yet. Congratulations on making prefect!"
"Thank you!— But, I'm honestly still befuddled." she remarked. Frankie looked puzzled at her. "Everyone was so sure Professor Dumbledore was going to pick you. You're practically his daughter."
"Oh, it's alright. I would've been an awful choice anyway. I mean, my grades are good, but I don't have an authoritative bone in my entire body." Frankie reasoned. While initially it was a letdown to hear that both of her best friends had received their prefect appointments, she'd come to the conclusion the job wasn't really for her. Besides, if she'd been appointed prefect, she would've always assumed it was only given to her because Dumbledore was trying to 'pay her back' and not because she'd actually earned it. That would've been a dreadful thought to have to put up with. "Tom is going to be a prefect, though. He'll be great at it."
"That's fantastic news!—Where is he anyway? Shouldn't he be here?" Daphne asked, looking around. The princess would never come unaccompanied without her faithful escort. Since they were not at school, if one was here, the other was nearby.
"I must've lost him." Frankie stated, looking off into the abyss of a crowd. She didn't want to say Daphne ripped her right out of his hand. It'd begin more insinuations when they had valid reasons for holding hands. Getting lost being, one of them. "He's going to be worried about me. I've got to get back—"
"Frankie!" Another strangely familiar voice had exclaimed from the crowd. However, it had not been Tom's voice. Just like the year before, Quin had appeared from out of nowhere. Frankie gave a small wave, while Daphne let out an exasperated sigh. Both living in Godric's Hollow, he had most likely been one of Daphne's escorts. She had probably just lost him and the other two, on purpose when she'd seen Frankie.
"How have you been—?" he started to ask, however, his eyes immediately focused on the mask hanging off Frankie's arm, "What is that thing?"
"It's a gasmask. Haven't you seen one before?"
"I can't say I have." As someone who doesn't pay attention in Muggle Studies and who is a pureblood, it figured he didn't have much knowledge about muggle inventions. However, Frankie had the small theory that they all frightened him, considering his fear was the most terrifying of them all. In third year, when they had to face the Boggart, it turned into a gun. It shot five, very real, bullets before he could mutter the counter curse. Thankfully, the class was able to dodge them all, but Quin still held a look of pure terror like it had successfully shot everyone.
"Well, it's a mask that people wear so they don't breathe in harmful gases." Frankie explained, trying to keep a cheerful tone and erase his terrified expression. It really was a good thing, despite how sinister it looked.
"Why do you have it then?—Are you feeling alright? What's going on?" Quin asked her, hysterically. Why would she need something like that?
"I'm fine, Quin. Calm down. It's just, back in the muggle world, they're at war."
"I didn't know it was still so bad in London. Are you going to be okay living there for the rest of the summer? You could always come stay with me." Daphne offered. Quin nodded in agreement. Obviously, she shouldn't stay in such a place. She should stay in Godric's Hollow with them. That's where she belonged anyway.
"Thank you, but I'll be alright." Frankie replied. As nice as it'd be to not be trapped at the orphanage and a city in ruin for a week, there was no way she could leave Tom. Even if they weren't allowed to be together, she still had an obligation to stick with him in that place until they both were allowed to leave it.
Speak of the devil, she could faintly hear him calling her name. She turned to find him off to the side across the way, gesturing her to come there. "Tom's calling me back. We've got to get to shopping now. But, I'll see you both on the first, alright?"
"How come he's always with her, Daphne? It doesn't make a lick of sense."
Quin was watching her run off to him for what felt like the billionth time. Tom always got to be with her, especially here. They always came to Diagon Alley together, like he did with Daphne, Monty and Ethan. He didn't often wonder about Frankie's past with Tom, but after four years, curiosity was starting to get the better of him. She rarely spoke about her past at all. He knew she'd been in an orphanage, but didn't know she had yet to be adopted. One of his theories was that Tom's parents, knowing who she was, adopted her. They were living under the same roof as brother and sister. It was much easier to think of them as siblings, rather than romantically involved. That had to be the only logical reason she saw past his rotten Slytherin attitude, but even Quin wasn't quite set on his own theory. However, it was very clear they'd been together for a long time and not intent on being apart from one another.
How much longer had they been together really? Technically, not trying to pull hairs, but Quin knew her longer. She didn't realize it, and Daphne forbid them from mentioning it even now that her identity had finally been confirmed, but she had a past with him too. A past with the others back in Godric's Hollow. It wasn't too much of a history, but surely it was stronger than whatever she and Tom had.
"You're such a fool, Quinlin." Daphne muttered, catching on to his train of thought. He was thinking about the past. The reason she told them not to mention their previous connection to Frankie was because her mind was fragile, and it was nothing really significant. Monty and him always did think more of it. A kind of cosmic connection they mistook for love.
"She loves him. One day you'll have to come to terms with that...."
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The moment Tom and Frankie got back from shopping, their new things were taken and shoved into the cupboard under the stairs. Then, they were shut away until school. Thankfully, it wasn't as long of an isolation this time. In a week, they were once again reunited and this time they had their wands and all their magical things back. The second that Tom had his wand back in his hand the first thing he wanted to do was hex Mrs. Cole. However, he barely restrained the urge. Once he was seventeen, he would once again be able to use his magic in this world and she would get what was coming to her.
"Have a good year at school." Mrs. Cole exclaimed, with a faux smile. The two were slightly stalled by all the kids wanting to genuinely wish them a good time at school, when she and the workers came to see them off.
"Don't worry, we will." Tom smiled, sarcastically back. He slammed the door behind them and the two left for King's Cross Station. They went at a fast pace so they would not miss the train. All those grubby little children just had to say goodbye and that made them leave later than usual. Frankie didn't need to push her cart at top speed, violently through the crowds of muggles, like in years before. This time it was emptier. Not many people had money to afford a train ticket anymore. The same large guard was now a sort of ticket checker. Tom made sure they stayed at a far distance, so he wouldn't ask to see theirs. He'd toss them out if he saw a ticket that said Platform 9 ¾. It was putting a whole new level to his least favorite yearly 'prank'. They soon arrived at the pillar at the end of a line of first years going in with their parents. Frankie went next. Her method, after their first year, was running straight through with no fear or hesitation whatsoever. Tom, on the other hand, had developed a different approach. A deep breath, eyes bolted shut, and charging ahead no matter how stupid he found running at a solid brick pillar.
Tom ended up on the other side, like always, next to the scarlet red steam engine. Frankie was leaned up against the wall with the same 'told-you-so' expression, knowing his hidden fear of crashing straight into the solid bricks. They boarded the train and settled in a compartment to wait for the start of their journey. One look of that classic train and joyful expression, made the feeling kicked in. They were finally going home after a long trip.
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"Looking through those old photos again?" Tom inquired, sitting down in his usual seat across from her. He had just come back from the prefect orientation and found that Frankie had put some of the photos she had taken from her old house in her bag for the trip. He often caught her peeking at them in her free time and she had little else to do in isolation. It made her feel closer to those people she called her parents sometimes.
"—And you haven't? You look through them more than I do and they're my parents." she argued. Sometimes she caught him looking through them too, as if searching for something secret hidden message within each of them.
"Some of them are intriguing. They tell stories I reckon Dumbledore is still keeping hushed up." he replied, taking the stack to show her. Tom shuffled through the stack to see if she still had the most intriguing one. She might've thrown it out considering how useless it looked. But sure enough she was smart enough to keep it. "Look at this."
Tom held up a picture of a grand room that kept being submerged into complete darkness every other second, so it was impossible to discern all its particular details in one mere glance. The walls of the room were lined with giant serpent pillars, and they guarded a man who seemed to tower miles above them.
"The Chamber of Secrets?" she questioned, having read her mother's caption of the photo. Although, she'd kept it because of this mysterious caption, it was not something she found to be of particular interest to her.
"It can't really be the chamber. It's just a myth." he added. From what little information Tom had been able to find about the Chamber of Secrets, he'd deciphered it was about as much of a myth as the Crumpled-Horned Snorkack. Perhaps it was just because he had looked at that flash of image several hundred times, but it felt like he had been there before. He stood against the snake pillars, looking up at the statue of the man, and then everything went dark, like he forgot he needed to keep his eyes shut, "It feels familiar to me though."
"We can ask Dumbledore or Slughorn when we get back. Surely, one of them will know more."
"Fat chance of that. I'm taking some of these straight to the library." Tom replied, quickly shuffling through them again. He realized even though they practically shared most of the items from her parent's house, it'd probably be better to ask for her permission. "Do you mind?—It'll only be for a few days."
"Take them. I need to focus more this year anyway..."
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After what seemed like a long, endless journey they finally arrived at the station in Hogsmeade. The doors opened and everyone shuffled onto the platform, quickly trying to grab their things and make it onto one of the first carriages. Frankie didn't rush, she liked getting to see all the Thestrals at work, and Tom didn't particularly care, despite wanting to get back to Hogwarts. However, they could never ride together. Somehow, she and Quin 'randomly' ended up on the same carriage almost every other year. So, Tom got in the second to last of the carriages, with the Slytherin boys who had waited with him. He usually liked to be off before them, so at least he wouldn't have to follow behind them the whole way feeling like he wanted to vomit.
Quin and the rest of the group got into the last carriage, while Frankie stalled them at the front, "I wish you could see them. They're such magnificent creatures." Frankie smiled, petting the snout of the Thestral. She looked insane to everyone else. Frankie had yet to meet someone else besides Ogg and Kettleburn that could see them.
"Are you sure your dad isn't actually Professor Kettleburn?" Quin laughed, waving his arm in front. Frankie giggled at his arm flailing, knowing he was nowhere near the invisible creature. He stopped flailing his arms to offer her one to help her up into the carriage and she accepted it.
Meanwhile, Tom was just arriving, looking up at the castle with somewhat of a smile. Finally, he was back in a place where he was not being imprisoned. He felt it was somewhat empty without Frankie with him, though. She should've been here to welcome him back home. They should've arrived back at their home together. Perhaps, he should casually walk a little slower. However, the moment he decided on it, his body just stopped completely. A sharp sudden pain shot straight through him, and he immediately collapsed to the ground. It felt like his forehead was going to crack open from an unseen force trying to get out of him. Then, Tom heard a hissing, venomous voice,
Master...
"Tom—are you alright?"
Frankie had just appeared from the main gate and had frantically gone running to his side the second she saw him knelt on the ground in agony. She was beginning to help him up when he slapped her hands away. They were in public, and her carriage was still in the hall, along with some stragglers who had waited for their friends. As much as he didn't want to, he had to push her away.
"I'm fine. I just got dizzy for a second." he replied, yet he put his hand on his head. It was still throbbing. What the hell was that? Frankie looked down at him with worry before Daphne came over and led her back into the flow entering the Great Hall. Tom and Daphne exchanged mutual looks of understanding. Whatever had just happened, whatever that had been, it was gone now. It was best not to fret over nothing. It was time to join the Slytherin table as leader of the fifth years and the newest prefect. It was where he belonged.