54Just something in my head.
On with the show.
Kings Cross Station, 9 am, September 1st.
Someone was sitting in her compartment.
He was a small boy with black hair wearing what had to be the most raggedy hand-me-downs she had ever seen in her life. They were obviously several sizes too big for him from the thin cord tying three of the belt loops together, his shirt looked as if it could eat him alive as he all but hid in the large oversized leather jacket while he was curled up on the seat. He was facing away from the door and looking out of the compartment window with his knees drawn up to his chest with his head resting on them.
She frowns before pulling the sliding door open, which causes the boy to jump in his seat and spin around to look at her with wide and fearful eyes. Something in her purred at the look of fear in the boy's wide emerald-green eyes that hid behind coke-bottle glasses, but she kept her face tightly controlled as she looked back at him. She pauses, waiting for the boy to say something, but all he does is shrink back into himself.
"Are you going to be a bother?" She asks after a moment and watches as the boy quickly shakes his head, something like a scar showing itself on his forehead as he does. His eyes looked down to avoid her own piercing blue ones as he did. "Good, so long as you are not, I will allow you to stay," she tells him before stepping into the compartment and dragging her trunk behind her. It takes only a moment to float it to the rack above after removing her third-year defense book on dark creatures.
She takes a seat across from the boy and begins to read. She can feel the boy looking at her, but she says nothing as she waits for him to ask some inane questions. But to her surprise, the boy only turns back to look out the window after a few moments, her eyes peek up from her book to inspect the boy more closely. He was thin, far too thin for a child his age, so much so that she could see the bones in his wrist poking out and sharp cheekbones where baby fat should be. Bags hung heavily under his dead-looking eyes and he looked unwashed and dirty from where she sat.
She frowns at the sight of the pathetic-looking boy, disgusted at his weakness, but her eyes narrow at the boy's bangs and the scar that hid under them. Her eyes turned back to her book, turning over the options in her mind as she read on about the dark creatures she would be learning about this year. She knew the story, not many in the world she found herself in for the last few years didn't know. The story of the boy who lived, of how, some ten years ago a dangerous dark witch by the name of Bellatrix attacked a family of three in their home. The dark witch killed both the mother and father before turning her wand on the child, one that wasn't even two, only for her curse to backfire on the dark witch somehow.
Speculation and debate surrounded that night on what happened and how the child survived, but no conclusive theory from the Arithmancy community has ever been produced.
But as she turns the page of her book, she decides to leave the boy be for now, if he didn't bother her then she was content to let him be. They pass the few short hours like that, sitting in the silence of each other's company. It was oddly pleasant to her, the boy didn't once speak or ask a question. He kept to himself, simply looking out the window and onto the platform without complaint or comment.
But soon enough, the peaceful atmosphere between the two was shattered by the arrival of her least favorite thing- people.
The mindless and meandering crowd of simpering simpletons in which, the only truly astounding thing that ninety-nine percent of them could do- was to die; and stop stealing the oxygen for those who truly needed it, like herself. They filled the station like a swarm of locusts looking to feed on the peace and quiet she so held in high regard, it reminded her far too much of the group homes she had bounced between in her youth. The other children never leaving her alone, always screaming and stomping up and down stairs, she hated the loud noises that now swarmed around her.
She takes a deep breath- trying to bury the oncoming headache away, she marks her place in her books before shutting it with a snap. She smirks as she sees the boy jump three feet in his seat, eyes wide and frightened as he looks at her scared; as if she was going to attack him. She looked at him, she could feel the mask slip- her lips turn to a scowl and hatred bloomed in her eyes. The boy no doubt saw it in her face as he tried to duck deeper into the oversized leather jacket to hide in.
Oh, how she wanted to rip him out of what was no doubt his safety blanket- to watch him cower, to shake, to beg before her. But she forced the thoughts away and reaffixed her mask. Her smile returns in the blink of an eye, something that most people would return, but the boy doesn't calm himself; he still tucks himself away in his jacket with fear and distrust in his eyes.
She turns away from the boy, not wanting to look at the scruffy-looking boy nor the feeling he put in her chest at his fear. She looks out the window while laying her book on her lap as she crosses her ankles. She watches as the happy little families hug and say tearful goodbyes like they are never to see each other again; her stomach twists with disgust at the sight.
"Look at them," She mutters to herself under her breath, her disgust and virtual slipping into her tone as she speaks; unable to stop herself. "Their acting if they were boarding the train to Auschwitz or something," she says with a near soundless scoff at the sight before her. She doesn't expect an answer from the boy, she half expects him to agree with her; so she is surprised when he answers.
"It looks nice," the boy whispers softly, his eyes looking out the window watching a mother and father hug their son before sending him off; pain and want flickering in equal measure in them.
She scowls at the boy but chooses not to say anything. Before long the train was filled with annoying children who shuffled back and forth to find a place to sit, one such child ended up opening the door to her compartment. A small redheaded boy with in hand-me-down robes and a battered trunk, the boy's green eyes look hopeful when he looks into the compartment as they dart between the boy and her.
"'Ello, do you mind if I-" the redhead begins to say, but she swiftly cuts him off.
"Yes, we do," she tells the redhead with a firm but polite tone. "I'm expecting a few more friends to show up here any minute, so sorry but this one is all full up," she tells him, not even looking at the other boy in the compartment to see if he cared and speaking for both of them. The redhead's face falls at her words but thankfully he just nods his head.
"Right, have a nice trip then," he offers dejectedly before shutting the door to the compartment. There was a pause as she turned to look out the window, a scowl showing on her face in the reflection.
To her surprise, the boy speaks again. "There is no one else coming, is there?" he asks quietly, not even looking over at her as they both look out the compartment window. Her lips twitch at the boy's question, as if she is going to smile but quickly controls it.
"No," she answers honestly, her eyes traveling from her reflection to the boy- but he says no more. The train lurches forward as it begins to take off from the station, annoying children of all years leaning out the windows to wave and call back to their parents as they embark either on their first year or another year. But both she and the boy do no such tomfoolery, they both continue to look out the window doing their best to ignore the other. It doesn't take long for the other children on the train to settle and the sound of the train on its tracks to drown out everything else; she picks up her book and begins to read once more as a more comfortable silence settles over them.
Oddly enough, she finds herself enjoying the quiet company of the boy. He doesn't ask inane questions or bother her, and she returns that quiet respect with the same to him. From time to time she would look up from her book to find the boy watching her from behind his crossed arms, his eyes going from her face to the book cover. Every time she catches him looking, he quickly turns to look back out the window- she finds it…oddly cute, in a weird way. But it was after the first two hours and catching looking five different times did she finally allowed some conversation between the two.
"Is there something I can help you with?" She asks, not even looking up from her book; but knowing the boy was looking at her all the same.
"No," he mutters, shyly before looking away once more, and the quiet returns for a few more minutes before she sighs and marks her page. She pulls down the sleeves of her robes and checks the wristwatch on the back of her wrist for a moment and stands to put her book away in her trunk.
"The trolley should be coming by soon with lunch any moment," She tells him as she digs out her own lunch that she had made just that morning. "If you've got any money, I'm sure you'll be able to buy something off of it for lunch," she tells him before sitting back down in her seat, her four sandwich halves wrapped in plastic wrap to her side as she sets up the small folding table between them. The boy looked surprised for a moment when she tapped the wall just under the window for the table, but otherwise didn't say a word.
As she waited for the trolley as well, she took her time looking at the boy, what she could see beneath the dirt and oversized clothes. He was…cute, she supposed- in a kicked-puppy kinda way. His overly large eyes helped with that, but they also held a look of deep sadness and resentment for something she couldn't fathom. His cheekbones were high and sharp, along with his chin; obvious signs of being born from noble stock but other than a few family names she didn't know much about magical nobility, something she was going to remedy this year. The boy acted odd as well, he was skittish, almost afraid in a way she had seen before with a few of the kids that come through the group home every now and then.
She never cared enough about the dirty little muggle children to interact with them- let alone to sit down and have a conversation with them. She nearly shudders at the very thought of the act, disgusted with the dirty unclean loud little goblins that ran around the St. Wools Group Home. But the point remained- she had no frame of reference for how the boy acted, nothing to call upon and thus she was missing puzzle pieces.
Thankfully, they were both distracted by a knock at the compartment door. She swiftly stood and walks over to the sliding door and opened it, and just as she expected, a kindly-looking old lady was standing just outside of it. She was old and dressed in Hogwarts Express red and black, a large smile on her face as soon as the door opened with a small cart in front of her. It was stocked with cakes, candies, gummies, and chocolates that lined the top of the cart in all shapes and colors. Below them on the second level were triangle-cut sandwiches of roast beef and Swiss, chicken and provolone, turkey and cheddar; along with magically sealed tins of thick hot soups and stews of all kinds. But what she wanted was on the final level, drinks.
From a few muggle fizzy drinks to butterbeer and hot chocolates, all sat on the bottom of the cart. She reaches into the pockets of her robes and pulls out one of the two sickles she had saved from her scholarship for Hogwarts by buying secondhand.
"Anything off the trolley, dear?" The older woman asks with a joyest smile.
"One butterbeer, please," she says with a small polite smile that most adults seem to like from children before handing over the sickle.
"Coming right up," the woman says as she takes the silver coin before reaching down and grabbing a bottle. "Would ya like that warm or chilled, deary?"
"Chilled- please," she says after a moment and watches as the witch pulls out her wand and taps the bottle without speaking a word. Condensation immediately builds around the glass bottle as she takes it from the elderly woman before turning to walk back to her seat.
"What about you dear? Anything off the trolley?" The old woman asks the boy with a friendly smile. The boy looks confused, as if he didn't understand why the woman was speaking to him but he eyes the cart with hunger and hesitation. After a moment the boy finally stands, his eyes darting all along the cart, unsure what to do or say.
"Er- I don't really- um, wh-what can this get me?" The boy asks, sounding lost and very confused as he reaches into his pocket just to pull out a fist full of gold. Well, not a fist full of gold in the literal sense, she could only see three or four Galleons but he was also clutching at least twenty sickles and a few knuts. Her eyes almost bug out of her head at the sight before her teeth set in anger at the boy who didn't know the worth of a Galleon. But she pauses, for the lost and confused look on the boy was still on his face.
"Does- does he not know?" She thinks to herself in honest disbelief. There was a big difference between figuratively not knowing the value of a Galleon and literally not knowing the value of the gold he held. "How in the name of the devil did the boy buy his school supplies?" She thinks to herself in shock.
But the old woman, probably thinking it was a joke, simply chuckles at his question. "You could buy out most of the trolley with that, Deary. Why don't you just pick one or two things and leave some for the rest of the children?" The old woman tells the boy with a kind smile. She watches the boy's eyes drift down to the trolley, looking overwhelmed by the mere thought of the choices in front of him.
"Bullocks," she curses in her mind before standing once more- not understanding why she even felt the need to help the clueless boy. "Roast Beef, chicken, or turkey? Which one do you like best?" She asks the boy, watching him jump a bit at her words.
He turns and looks at her oddly for a moment, blinking as he does. "R-Roast Beef," he answers in a whisper.
"Give him a Roast beef and Swiss, a beef stew, and a chilled butterbeer," she tells the trolley lady with a charming smile. "Oh, and two pumpkin pasties as well,"
The old woman turns to the boy with a brow raised in question, watching as the boy looks between her and the trolley lady before quickly nodding. After the exchange of ten sickles and four knuts the boy was handed his meal before they sat back down at the small table. They are just as they have been in the last few hours, in a comfortable silence. The boy wolfed down his sandwiches and stew like he hadn't eaten in weeks, and from the looks of him, he probably hadn't. She watched in amusement as he took his first sip of butterbeer and his eyes went wide at the flavor before downing half the bottle, a half smile crawling on her face.
"Thank you," the boy says, not looking her in the eyes and almost in a whisper. She accepted it with a hum as she ate her own sandwich without complaint and sipped on her own drink.
After their lunch, they relaxed once more to the sounds of the train traveling across the Scottish countryside, both immersed in the quiet they shared in the compartment. She was reading her books and the boy simply sat in his seat looking out the window. For an hour or so neither of them spoke as neither wanted to shatter the silence they found themselves most comfortable in. But with the compartment door slamming open once more, shattering the silence they had both found peace in, a new voice calls out.
"I heard Harry Potter was on the train, and you must be him," the voice was high and young, causing her to turn with a glare to the boy who ruined the sanctuary of her compartment. The shorter blonde-headed boy had his head tilted back and a smirk on his lips- arrogance reflected in everything the boy did. From his stance- as he stood in the doorway flanked by two larger boys, from his words- demanding answers like a child unable to comprehend his own insignificance to the wider world outside of his home, to the way he held himself- back straight, head back to try and look down on everyone else; pride in his eyes and a hateful sneer waiting to bloom on his face. The boy was immediately in her bad graces from the show of his entrance that demanded attention that he had not earned.
"Who?" She asks, raising her brow to the blond boy as her compartment mate stiffens at the boy's demanding voice. Her voice was light and curious as if she didn't know who the blond boy was talking about. The boy scowls at her, his pale blue eyes taking in her state of dress, the silver and green of Slytherin showing proudly on her tie, robes, and skirt; but still, the blond boy looks unimpressed.
"Harry Potter, don't tell me you're some mud-blood who somehow swindled her way into Slytherin and doesn't know about him- killed my aunt he did," The blond boy says in an annoying shrill voice, images of cutting out his tongue and stuffing it down her throat dances in her mind for a moment; her eye twitching at being called a mud-blood.
"And who exactly was your Aunt?" She asks, playing dumb for the moment. "In fact, who exactly are you for that matter?" She asks as politely as she can.
"My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," the newly introduced Draco Malfoy says, preening like a peacock when he says it. "And my Aunt was Bellatrix Lestrange," he says like it was a badge of honor.
She blinks at that statement. "You came looking for another child because he killed your Aunt when he was barely two- why?" She asks, honestly lost trying to come up with the logic for why Malfoy would do this.
"Well- I just wanted to meet the boy who stopped her," he admits without shame and now looking a little uncomfortable with his admittance.
"Then I'm sorry to tell you, but there's no Harry here," she tells Malfoy but not sounding sorry at all. "Perhaps he's not taking the train to avoid something like this," she tells Malfoy nonchalantly and with a tilt of her head, wanting nothing more than to get the annoying, arrogant, oxygen stealer out of her compartment.
"Well, what about him?" Malfoy says annoyed, pointing at the boy who hadn't moved from his spot, keeping his face facing away from the pack of annoyances. "What's your-"
"Tom," she tells Malfoy before standing up, quickly coming up with a fake name for her compartment mate. "His name is Tom," she says as she crosses her arms over her chest as she glares at the trio. "Now, if you don't mind leaving so I can get back to reading, you're disturbing us,"
Malfoy frowns as his eyes narrow at her, he huffs as he looks between the two one last time. "Fine, have it your way," he says as he straightens his silk robes. "Come on Crabb, Goyle- let's go back to sit with Theodore and Pansy. At least they're far more enjoyable company," he says with a dismissive sniff and a disgusted look on his face as Malfoy and his two henchmen turn around and leave the compartment. She rolls her eyes at the child's antics before flicking her wand at the door, shutting it before, huffing as she does, turning back to her seat and sitting back down.
The silence is awkward now, not nearly as comfortable as it was before Malfoy poked his nose into their compartment. The boy now revealed as Harry Potter- as she had suspected all along, sneaks not-so-subtle glances at her, possibly afraid that she'll start with questions or tripping over herself in some kind of hero worship. But all she does is reach over and steal one of the two cakes that Harry had gotten with his order off the trolley. Harry watches her as she unwraps it from the wax paper and begins to quietly eat it while looking out the window.
"Tamsyn," she tells him, causing the boy to look at her oddly. "My name, it's Tamsyn Riddle," Tamsyn doesn't know why she told the boy, maybe it was some odd hope that the atmosphere would go back to how it was; or something else entirely that she couldn't voice.
"Oh. I guess it's nice to meet you," Harry says softly as Tamsyn smiles at him, causing Harry to smile as well.
"It's nice to meet you as well, Harry," Tamsyn says, and to her surprise- she felt as if she meant it. She had never truly liked people, even on the first meeting- opting to be alone or tucked away from where they could find her. With a book or a snake, it didn't really matter; so long as she was away from people. She could recall, a few times when she was younger, going out of her way to try and make "friends" and it always ended disastrously.
Harry smiles at her and Tamsyn feels the atmosphere seems to settle back down to the comfortable feeling as they settle back into it. Tamsyn's scan Harry, from the dirty and ragged look to the slightly hopeful look in his emerald eyes and she couldn't help but to wonder what the boy was hoping for at the end of the train ride. She frowns as she turns to look out of the window to the countryside rolling past them, Tamsyn knows what she was waiting for at the end of the train ride- to be back home. The group home has never been her home with everyone passing through it and the caretakers being nearly absent for her, though she didn't mind that last part all too much. Hogwarts on the other hand had felt like the place she truly belonged, from the very moment she first saw it. It was like a bright unforgettable dream when she had crossed the lake and first saw the castle in all her glory.
Her eyes once more turn to Harry, wondering if he'll feel the same way. "Your glasses are broken," she points out to Harry, causing the boy to look at her confused. She lets out a sigh before pulling out her wand. "Here, let me show you a rather useful spell that I learned in my first year," she tells them before leveling her wand at his glasses- right before the compartment door opens again.
"Hello, I'm looking for a toad that belongs to Neville Longbottom- oh! Are you doing magic?" a girl with frizzy hair says, her eyes going wide as she sees Tamsyn with her wand in hand. Her voice was like an iron spike through Tamsyn's brain, the girl sounded like an overeager puppy looking for scraps from a table. Tamsyn's eyes were chips of ice, hard and cold as she turned to the voice that so reminded her of the annoying dirty stupid children of the group home.
"Why, yes. Yes, I am," Tamsyn says pleasantly and with a strained smile as she turns to look at the frizzy-headed girl. A look that made Harry nervous and uncomfortable as he saw something in Tamsyn's eyes and on her face turned dark and malicious, reminding him of his relatives. "Would you like to see?" Tamsyn asks the girl, just for the frizzy-headed girl to nod her head.
"I would love t-" the girl begins to say before with a whirling motion of her wand, Tamsyn slams the compartment door on her face before locking it; all with an angry look on her face.
"The rudeness of some people, I swear," Tamsyn says with an angry exhale as she turns back to Harry, lines pitching between her eyebrows. Harry lets out a small laugh, but otherwise says nothing about her actions. She levels her wand to his face once more. "Reparo," she says softly and watches as Harry's glasses fix themselves.
Harry looks taken aback at the display of magic before taking off his glasses and looking them over. "Wicked," he says breathlessly.
Tamsyn smiles at the look on the boy's face. "You can always go to the hospital wing to get your prescription checked. Even with magic, there seems to be a few things that can't be fixed- such as the mind or eye sight," she tells Harry as she is turning back to her book.
"Thank you," Harry whispers so softly that at first Tamsyn thought she had misheard him at first. She looks up from her book, confused- only to see Harry slipping on his glasses and looking at her with a smile. Tamsyn blinks in surprise, she had many people thanking her for her polite mask over the years, but this sounds so…heartfelt. She feels a creeping blush working its way up her neck at the look in the boy's eyes, she quickly looks away and back down to her book. Mentally blaming her emerging hormones for such a ridiculous reaction to Harry's words.
"It wasn't anything that you could have done in a few months, it's a very simple charm," she says in an excuse before bringing up her book to hide her face behind, cursing herself for having such a mundane reaction to such a simple thing. Once more cursing her hormones for it. They fall back into that comfortable silence once more for the last hour of the trip, it only breaks once for the loudspeaker announcing their immediate arrival to Hogsmeade village. Harry had quickly excused himself to change into his bathroom robes before returning just as the train was slowing down.
The train pulls into the station and both she and Harry watch as their peers begin to pour out of the train, laughing and yelling and all the other annoying things that children are want to do. Before long, they both step off the train to the calls of one of the Professors calling out to the first-year students to follow them.
"That's Professor Flitwick, our charms professor," Tamsyn tells Harry, pointing out the diminutive wizard standing on a conjured box while sending multi-color sparks into the air. "He's also head of Ravenclaw house. He's genuine and rather nice, I think you'll like him," she says with a small smile.
"Oh, okay…" Harry says, trailing off as he looks back at the wizard with a small frown.
"Go, enjoy the boat ride," Tamsyn tells him as she turns to look at one of the last remaining carriages.
"Thank you," Harry says once more as Tamsyn turns back to look at him. "For- er, for…you know," he says shyly as he looks back to Tamsyn before looking down at his own shuffling feet. "I guess this is goodbye, yeah?" He says in a small voice, refusing to look at her in her eyes.
"For now, I'll see you on stage for the sorting and you never know, we may end up in the same house," Tamsyn says, and oddly enough, she finds herself meaning it once more.
"Yeah?" Harry asks, finally looking up at her with the large puppy-dog eyes she wants to pluck out and keep in a jar.
"Maybe, if not it's more likely I'll see you around Hogwarts if nothing else. Now go, before you miss the boats," Tamsyn says almost sternly as she points in the direction of the Black Lake. Harry nods once before muttering a goodbye and running off toward Professor Flitwick who looks at her with a smile and a nod of his head. She accepts with a nod of her own before heading towards the last carriage.
"Oi- Riddle, were you just being nice to someone?" A loud and infuriating voice asks as Tamsyn turns her head to look at the last carriage to see a black hair boy with a blue and bronze tie tied around his forehead and sporting a large grin. Tamsyn sighs internally as she doesn't even try to hide the sickening hatred sliding into her face.
"Shut it, Blackmoor, before I tie your flapping tongue into a knot," she spits at the raven-headed boy who just laughs at her response. She walks up the steps of the carriage and turns back to watch as Harry and Flitwick make their way to the Black Lake, Harry stopping once before descending the stairs to look back at her and wave. She returns the wave with a small smile before slipping into the carriage, plans for the future already boiling away in her mind and a smile on her face.
Dribble done!
This is a neat little set up. A "Harry and Tom Riddle go to Hogwarts together" but without time travel because holy fuck do I hate time travel. In this we see Tamsyn before her worldview is truly set in stone, she's only in her third year and doesn't know her heritage or is she truly setting herself up for being the dark force we all know Tom Riddle becomes.
There are no Horcruxes nor any prophecy, just two damaged kids meeting for the first time and slowly becoming closer over time. Each of their different personalities and world views clash and affect one another as the years go on.
This would be far more slice of life then any of my other fics.
Kingsaxcul, out!