The Traveler's Secret

CHAPTER 11: MEETING TOM

The following days after the storm were emerald and gold. Verdant life sprung up everywhere, turning the rolling hills into swells of green. The sky was wide and blue, with clean puffs of white clouds dotting the landscape of heaven. Veils of golden light fell onto everything the sun touched, and sweetness gilded the wind. It was in those days that it was good to be alive. It was in those fine summer hours, where there was no darkness, or horror of war looming on the horizon. It was a time of rejuvenation and rebirth, and for the children that attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a time of joy and fun.

The students of Hogwarts had become restless, after being cooped up in doors for the past week. The tests for the end of the year were finishing up, and soon many of the students would be going home, but for now they could run about the grounds, and enjoy the good weather.

Most importantly, the end of the year Quidditch match was coming up, and the excitement in the air was electric. The match was to take place between the two greatest rival houses, Slytherin and Gryffindor. The intensity between the teams, and their respective supportive fans grew as taunting and soon pranks of all kind were taking place. Though some of the pranks and some of the taunts were mean and a little dangerous, most of the students were filled with uplifted spirits. They didn't have to worry about the horror in the world, not when the days were nice, and there was an exciting game to look forward too. Even the teachers were in good spirits, allowing the children to get away with more things than normal as the match drew closer.

The mirth and joy was so contagious that even Jean Fulver was not immune to it. After spending his first night at the castle in a fit of restlessness and unease, especially after all the information he had attained, he really didn't know how he would respond to this new world of magic. It was one thing to see Dumbledore and Johnny perform a few spells here and there, but now he was going to be surrounded by people, children none the less, who could do so many things he had never even imagined before.

The ripple of anxiety he felt was similar to what he had felt the first time he had gone to the prestigious academy both he and Marius had attended when they were little boys. Marius, being from a wealthy family, had been able to assimilate easily, but Jean had known he was going to have a rough time of it. Marius had been there to guide him through the social layers of the school, and soon Jean had found his place.

But Marius was gone, and Jean was in the same situation with no one to lean on. Well almost no one. Jean didn't think that Sergei Krum counted.

At first Fulver thought it best if he stayed indoors, eating the meals that magically appeared on his writing desk every morning and evening. The first time the food had appeared, it had startled him so suddenly that he almost knocked the dish to the floor. He spent the rest of that day watching the plate, waiting to see the magic that brought him his food, but after spending hours staring at an empty plate, Jean Fulver soon thought he would go mad. He couldn't possibly spend the rest of his days there (and for all he knew that could be a long time) watching an empty plate. After seeing the outside of the magnificent castle on the first night, and experiencing magic for himself, Jean Fulver's curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to explore the castle, and he wanted to see more magic, but he didn't think it wise to do it alone.

Fulver decided it best if he stayed very close to the corridor he was lodged in, which according to Dumbledore, was the place where the teachers stayed during the course of the year. Sergei's room was right next to Jean's, and Fulver wasn't quite sure what they meant by doing that. They hadn't roomed Wolfbane near them. In fact, neither Krum nor Fulver had seen Dumbledore or Wolfbane since the night they had arrived, but Jean had noticed an odd assortment of animals (squirrels, butterflies, and what not) finding their way into the corridor. Fulver knew they wouldn't have let Krum go unwatched for too long.

Sergei didn't seem too worried that he was not guarded. He felt like the entire castle was his protector, and he was certain of his safety. Krum was more at ease in the castle, and was always out and about. Fulver hated crossing paths with Sergei because Krum would always remind him in his unique and smug fashion how Fulver was too much of a coward to go past his room. It wasn't fear that kept Jean in the corridor, but a wariness, which seemed to have been ingrained into his character. He couldn't go anywhere without looking for possible threats and possible exits. He was a soldier after all.

On his third day at Hogwarts though, Fulver felt more relaxed and calm. He could sense the difference in the air around him as he watched the teachers pass his door. The teachers were of all shapes and sizes (one of which was a dwarf and another the tallest woman Fulver had ever seen). Most times they said hello, and had even stopped to chat with the Muggle, quite intrigued by the world Jean had come from. The teachers didn't treat Jean as if he were inferior. In fact, most of the teachers were a little intimidated by the soldier, aware that, though he may not be able to do magic, he had other weapons at his disposal. Only two didn't seem too pleased that he was lodged in the staff corridor, Professor Frederick being one and another teacher Fulver had never seen before.

Professor Frederick's initial aggressive behavior and dislike for Jean had simmered down to a quiet disapproval. He ignored Fulver any time they met, and Jean wasn't in the least perturbed by it.

The other teacher, on the other hand, was blatantly opposed to a Muggle sharing the same corridor with the staff. He made it clear that he thought that Fulver was a nuisance, and always seemed to go out of his way to say a snide remark as he passed Jean's door. This disagreeable teacher skulked down the halls, his long limbs making him look more like an ape than anything else. A permanent scowl twisted his pockmarked face, and by the way the other teachers avoided him, he was not well liked. He was always clothed in black, except for a silly silver and green scarf he wore. The man seemed to hate the very sight of Jean, and Fulver had no idea why, nor did it affect him. He never cared before for other people's approval, and he wasn't going to start now.

Fulver did find out that the odious skulking teacher was the Potions master, and his name was Professor Vikious. He was one of the reasons why Jean stayed near his room. Fulver was suspicious of the man, and wanted to keep an eye on him, but even Fulver had to admit that Vikious couldn't keep him entertained for very long.

So on his third day at Hogwarts, Fulver was pleasantly surprised by an unexpected visitor, after he had intended to spend another dull day indoors. The visitor had come in the early morning hours, and had knocked on his door. When Jean had opened the door, he saw a young, rounded shouldered boy of fourteen. Dressed in a long, black robe with a red and gold scarf wrapped around his waist, the young boy looked up at Jean through his kernel yellow hair with the largest brown eyes. He ambled forward, his small body rocking left and right as his uneven legs brought him closer. He was smaller than most thirteen year olds, but that had mostly to do with his physical abnormality. The boy's physical body didn't hinder him at all. He moved forward quicker than Jean thought he could. Intelligence and enthusiasm poured from the boy's eyes. He offered his hand to Jean.

"Hello, my name is Tom. You must be Jean Fulver!" stated the young boy as he shook Fulver's hand.

"Hello. Has someone sent you? Why are you here?" Jean replied, a little rougher than he intended. Tom flinched, dropping his hand and eyes at the same time. Guilt immediately began to rise up in Fulver. He never meant to be so harsh.

"Don't mind him!" called out a familiar voice behind Tom. "He's always this rude!"

Sergei Krum, dressed in a mauve robe, appeared behind the young boy, and sneered at Fulver. Jean thought he looked ridiculous in that flowing gown, but realized that most people here wore robes. Fulver wasn't going to be caught dead in any type of gown.

"Krum, if you don't watch your mouth, your cousin won't be the only one I'll shoot," Fulver replied, as he glared at Sergei.

The Muggle's hand moved slightly closer to his waist, and patted the bulk he hid under his bomber jacket. Although Jean had cleaned himself up, he still wore his old clothes, despite the black robes that had appeared near his bed every morning.

Sergei's face paled a bit, and his smile wavered, but did not fall completely. Tom threw terrified glances at the two men, one who was ready for a fight, and one who was ready to flee.

"Come, come Fulver. Don't scare the kid, especially since Dumbledore sent him to meet us, and show us around the castle," Sergei replied.

Jean relaxed a bit, his anger slowly peeling back. He wasn't as angry at Sergei as much as he had expected himself to be. And he definitely never meant to scare a child. Fulver gave Tom the kindest smile he had in him, which was hardly a grin, but soon the child was at ease again.

"Are you sure it was the boy who was afraid?" Jean smarted.

Sergei sighed and rolled his eyes. Fulver was glad that he could frustrate the man. Tom had relaxed a bit more, still sensing there was tension between the two men, but nothing that could erupt into a conflagration.

Jean walked out his door, closing it behind him, and stood on the other side of Tom. The young boy looked up on the taller Frenchman with what seemed to be a little bit of admiration. Tom had never met such a Muggle before.

"So Dumbledore sent you?" Jean asked the youth.

"Yes. He says he's sorry that he couldn't personally show you around, but he has a lot he has to do. He asked me to show you the castle and the grounds. Later on, we'll be going to see the end of the year Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but first we're going to the Great Hall for a spot of breakfast," Tom replied, as he led them out of the teacher's corridor to a stone staircase that spiraled downwards.

The excited youth literally skipped down the stairs when he mentioned the match. Fulver didn't know what Quidditch was, or who Gryffindor and Slytherin were. He felt a little embarrassed to have to ask Tom what seemed so natural to the boy. Jean sensed that he was going to be feeling like this more and more often, and would have to get over the embarrassment sooner or later.

"I love Quidditch," Sergei stated, his eyes flitting ever so slightly in Fulver's direction, not in arrogance, but in empathy. "My father used to take me to some games in Russia where they would play in all kinds of weather. Some of my fondest memories were at games played in snowstorms, but I don't know how it is in England. You mentioned that the match today was to be played between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Who are these teams?"

For once Jean was relieved by something Krum did, and wasn't sure how he should feel about that. He knew Sergei had just saved him the necessary pain of asking Tom these very questions, and Fulver had no idea why Krum had done it. Despite his raging curiosity to Tom's answer, Fulver feigned disinterest. Instead he pretended to be interested in the decorative statues and ornate doors they passed. The castle was just as beautiful on the inside as the outside.

"Gryffindor and Slytherin are two of the four houses at Hogwarts," stated Tom. "Each year students are separated out into these houses according to their skills. Gryffindor is known for their bravery, Slytherin for their ambition and cunning, Ravenclaw for their cleverness and wit and Hufflepuff for their loyal, hardworking demeanor. Gryffindor and Slytherin are the two houses that have the biggest rivalry in the school, especially in Quidditch."

"That's very interesting," Sergei said with some unease.

Jean heard the difference in tone, and turned from his admiration of his curious surroundings to the now distressed Sergei. They had made it down the stairwell, and were now walking down a large hall. Sergei wasn't as confident as he use to be, and Jean couldn't understand what had brought along the change. Tom's next words cleared up the matter to Jean.

"Didn't they have houses at the school of magic that you went to?" Tom asked innocently.

Unfortunately, that seemed to be the one question Sergei had been dreading to answer, and Jean could see the now familiar pattern of avoidance in Krum. Sergei turned beet red, and shuffled his feet as he murmured an unheard answer.

"What was that, Mr. Krum?" Tom asked.

"He said his school was a little different, and didn't have houses exactly," said Fulver.

Jean wasn't really sure why he had stepped in for Krum. From the look of relief on Sergei's face, it was obvious that he was glad that Fulver had. Maybe Jean felt like he had to even the score with Krum for the earlier questions, or maybe deep down he had felt a twinge of empathy.

They walked the rest of the way down the hall in silence. It was quiet with hardly anyone up yet. Occasionally when they passed by a room, movement could be heard on the other side of the doors, but for now they were the only ones up and about. Silence floated down the hall after the trio, strangling any comfort they had had.

"So what house are you in?" asked Jean casually.

Tom seemed to be glad that Fulver had spoken, feeling a bit awkward after the last question. He brightened up a bit. Out of the corner of Fulver's eye, Jean saw that Sergei also seemed to have perked up as well.

"I'm in Hufflepuff," Tom replied.

"Hardworking and loyal. That seems like a good fit," said Jean.

Tom smiled widely. He seemed to be particularly happy that Fulver had paid him a compliment.

"My father was, at first, disappointed that I hadn't been put in Gryffindor, even though he had never heard of Hogwarts before I had gotten my letter saying I got in. Professor Dumbledore had to convince my father to let me come."

"Why did your father want you to be in Gryffindor?" Sergei asked timidly.

"Who doesn't want their kid to be apart of a house that is brave? But I reminded him that my house had just as good of qualities as any of the other houses, and fit me perfectly. After I explained that to him, he seemed to be quite pleased with my house."

"You said that your father hadn't even heard of Hogwarts before you got accepted. What did you mean by that?" Jean asked as they moved down the hall.

" My father is a Muggle, and as far as I know so was my mother. My father is the bartender and owner of the Leaky Bucket. Dumbledore said that you two have already met my father."

Jean was stunned to hear that this child was the bartender's son. Sergei and Jean shared a look. They knew that it was children like Tom who would be the first to be killed by the weapon that Sergei had hidden in his mind. Tom looked up at his two companions, his sweet, innocent expression waiting for an answer. Anger at this Grindelwald for wanting to hurt children like Tom flickered up in Jean. It was people like Grindelwald that Fulver had joined the war to stop. Now he knew whose side he was on.

"Yes, we met your father," answered Sergei. "He was a good man."

Tom smiled at Krum, as they stopped in front of an impressively large door, that was closed. More and more children appeared around them, coming down stair cases, or up from a lower part of the castle. They chattered merrily as they passed, most were milling about the foyer of the large door. Everywhere the colors of red and gold or silver and green were seen. Jean guessed they were the team colors worn by the fans. Fulver had caught some of the kids looking at him, most in awe, some in disgust. He realized that it was only the ones with the silver and green scarves that looked at him in disgust. Jean Fulver glared back, and soon heads dropped.

"Tom, which team's colors are silver and green?" asked Jean.

"Slytherin," Tom said, a strain of dislike seeping into his words.

"You don't like them much?" asked Sergei.

"It's not that I don't like them, it's that they don't like people like me. Slytherin only really like pureblood witches and wizards. Everyone else they consider to be inferior," Tom's words shook with anger.

Tom paced back and forth in front of the main doorway in the hall, not willing to look up at his companions. Jean didn't understand what Tom had meant by that, but Sergei seemed to understand all too well. Fear radiated out of Krum. Any confidence Krum had once had was gone. Sergei wouldn't look at any student who wore silver and green, afraid to meet their eyes. Fulver had no intention of being intimidated by a bunch of school kids.

"What do you mean 'people like you'?" Jean asked, but it wasn't Tom who gave him the reply.

"Some people believe that magic should stay in all pureblood magic families, shouldn't be sullied by Muggle blood mixing in," stated Sergei. "They call themselves purebloods, and are proud of it. People like me and Tom don't fit in well with people like that."

A dark cloud descended on Sergei. There was something else going on, some horrible past that haunted Krum.

Both Jean and Tom were surprised by Krum's answer, though for different reasons. Tom was surprised by how much Sergei knew about that type of pureblood mania, and Fulver was surprised by the amount of pain and fear he had heard in Sergei's voice. An understanding began to form in Fulver's mind, pieces falling like raindrops on Fulver's fertile thoughts.

"Let's get inside the Great Hall, and get something to eat," Tom said, as cheerfully as he could, trying to dispel the momentary darkness that had fallen over them. "Dumbledore said that you could sit with me at the Hufflepuff table. Not many of the students will be in there at the moment, so you won't feel too uncomfortable. Afterwards, we have a lot to see!"

And with that Tom turned, and marched through the door they had been standing in front of, which had swung open just moments before. Sergei and Jean followed close behind. As they entered the Great Hall, once again Jean's breath seemed to be taken from his lungs. The hall was huge, being 50 feet long and thirty feet wide. Four long, wooden tables stretched from the doorway to the elevated table and pulpit, where Fulver assumed the teachers ate.

Covering the walls of the Great Hall were four different banners. One was red and gold, and had a proud lion in the center; the second was blue and bronze with a regal eagle in the middle. The third Jean recognized as Slytherin with the silver and green colors, and a great serpent in the center. He thought the symbol was appropriate for such a house. The last was a yellow and black banner with a noble badger in the middle.

But it was the ceiling that made Fulver's head spin. When he looked up, expecting to see a normal cobwebbed, arched ceiling, instead he saw the deep blue of a perfect sky with soft fluffs of clouds. Jean rubbed his eyes, and looked again at the ceiling, forgetting that he had stopped in the middle of the rows. The clouds had changed, but nothing else. He hadn't realized that he was alone, and that Tom and Sergei had gone on to the Hufflepuff table, which stood on the far right.

"It's bewitched," said an unfamiliar voice behind him, undulations of maturity and childhood mixing together.

Jean looked down, and saw a fourteen year boy in a black robe looking back. The boy was tall for his age, his jet black hair falling around the beginnings of a handsome face. Dark eyes stared at Fulver, half amused and half something Jean couldn't quite put his finger on. There was intelligence in those eyes, but also a darkness. They were steady, and studied Jean as if he were an intriguing species of some kind. Fulver stared back, unable to think up a reply to the new and startling information he had received. Jean noticed the boy wore a silver and green scarf wrapped neatly around his neck like a coiled snake.

"The ceiling is bewitched to look like the sky above. Looks like today will be a good day for a Quidditch match," the boy continued, turning his eyes up to the ceiling, as a look of awe and happiness filled his face.

The stirrings of danger about the boy that had been percolating in the back of Fulver's mind, eased a bit when he saw that look. For that one moment, the boy looked like a normal child. The moment was soon gone, and the alarms in Jean's head went off when the youth looked back down again. That look of joy had been replaced by that one thing that Fulver couldn't put his finger on. The emotion flashed across the boy's face, and was gone, but Fulver was sure he had seen it somewhere before.

"You seem too old to be a student. Are you the new Muggle Studies teacher?" the youth asked.

Before Fulver could answer, he noticed two lanky thugs of fifteen slouch up behind the young boy. Their open mouth stare showed that they had never seen a Muggle like Fulver before. Jean squared his shoulders, as he stared the new boys down. They must have gotten the hint that this was one Muggle they shouldn't mess with, because their eyes dropped. The fourteen year old, the obvious leader of the pack didn't even bother introducing the two new kids, instead his shrewd eyes analyzed everything about Fulver. There was that flash of emotion again, but this time Fulver realized where he had seen it before.

Marius had always had that look when he was planning something, usually something very naughty. The look that Marius had was different only in intensity. Jean knew his friend, and knew Marius may have been a schemer, but would never hurt an innocent person. This kid was different. Something wicked lurked in those seemingly innocent eyes, but only for a fraction of a second. Most times, the kid looked like a normal child.

"Tom!"

Jean turned, and saw the bartender's son, Tom Jr., coming towards him, Sergei not far behind. Krum noticed the scarves that all three of the new boys wore, and blanched. Annoyance at Krum began to return in Fulver. Wasn't there anything this man wasn't afraid of?

"You're both named Tom?" Jean asked as Tom Jr. came up behind him.

"Yeah. This is Tom Riddle." And Tom Jr. pointed at the lead boy.

A wave of anger washed over Tom Riddle's face, and then disappeared. Fulver caught the strange look, but nothing of anger came out of Riddle's mouth. Instead a smirk formed on the youth's perfect lips.

"Yes, that is what most people like to call me," Riddle responded.

Behind Riddle, his two cronies tried hard not to laugh, and failed miserably. They only stopped when Riddle gave them a stern look.

"I see you're supporting Gryffindor," said Riddle, and he pointed at Tom Jr.'s scarf.

Fulver could hear a slight menace behind the words. Tom jr., the ever innocent child that he was, had no idea how dangerous this Riddle was. He answered the Slytherin in a open, artless manner.

"Well we all have to choose a side," said Tom Jr.

"Oh yes. We all must choose a side sooner or later," Riddle calmly replied.

Once again, his two friends tried to unsuccessfully stifle their laughter. Fulver could see there was something else being said by Riddle, that only his two friends understood. Tom Jr. was confused by the answer, but not scared by it. Fulver noticed that Sergei had picked up on the same things as Jean had, because Krum looked on Riddle with a mixture of terror and puzzlement.

"See you at the game," Riddle said, and he and his friends walked over to the Slytherin table, which just so happen to be the one just to the left of the Hufflepuff table.

Tom jr. thought nothing of the encounter, and turned back to his table, saying something to Krum about the wonderful food they were about to eat. Soon the two men and boy had arrived at the Hufflepuff table. Tom Jr. had been right. Hardly any other students were at the Hufflepuff table, or in the Great Hall for that matter.

Fulver half listened to their conversation, only noting how the topic of food seemed to be the only thing that really animated Sergei Krum into a superfluous amount of speech. They all sat down in front of empty plates, and watched as the table began to fill with platters of food.

Fulver half watched Tom and Sergei start to pile their plates with food, but most of his concentration was on watching Riddle, and his gang one table over. Something wasn't right about the Riddle boy, and when Jean sneaked another look at Riddle, not only did he notice that the gang that surrounded Riddle had grown at the Slytherin table, but he caught Riddle looking back at him in an enigmatic way.

Jean turned back to his companions, wondering if they too had noticed the strange behavior of Tom Riddle. Though Krum had had an original unease about Riddle, his anxiety seemed to have disappeared completely by the sight of food. Tom jr. had never even considered the possibility that his peer may be a bad seed. The two continued to talk about food and Quidditch, their excitement growing the longer they talked of the match. Jean remained silent in the conversation, not even sure what this game of Quidditch was like. Tom seemed eager that Fulver join the conversation, completely forgetting how little Jean knew of their world. It was only when Jean had stopped eating his food, that Tom spoke to Fulver.

"Mr. Fulver, are you alright? Is the food not to your liking? I can see if there's anything further down the table you would like to eat."

Jean was surprised by the young boy's concern. He was use to small meals, and had soon found himself well satisfied with only one plateful of food. And he had had a hard time even concentrating on his food, with the mystery of the boy named Tom Riddle nagging at the back of his mind.

"I'm fine Tom. Thank you for asking. I'm a light eater, but I do have a question for you," Jean said.

Sergei looked at Jean, his face turning paler by the second. If there was one thing that Krum seemed to be good at, it was reading between the lines. Sergei knew what Fulver was going to ask. He turned to his plate, and pretended that his pie was the only thing in his world.

"Sure what do you want to ask me?" said Tom, ecstatic that Fulver was talking to him.

"I was wondering if you know a lot about Tom Riddle? Do you hang out with him, or have any of his classes?"

Tom Jr.'s brow furrowed as he thought about Fulver's question, slightly confused by it.

"Like I said, Tom Riddle is a Slytherin, and doesn't talk to me much. He isn't mean to me, more like he doesn't pay attention to me. Everybody loves him. He's a model student and all, and I expect that's why he doesn't talk to me, being so busy. I only have one class with him. It's the Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Frederick. Why do you ask?"

Jean leaned back, startled to hear that Riddle was a good student, loved by all. He was sure he was going to hear terrible stories about the boy. He also had been surprised to learn that Professor Frederick taught Riddle. Fulver wasn't sure why he should be surprised by that fact, but he was none the less.

"It's nothing Tom. I was just curious, but can I ask one thing of you?" Fulver said.

Tom nodded, his excitement rising at the prospect of doing something Fulver could be proud of him for. Even Sergei had lifted his head to hear the request.

"I think it best if you stayed away from Tom Riddle as much as possible."

Tom Jr. looked at Fulver quizzically, but nodded, and smiled brightly at Fulver. Jean was glad Tom Jr. hadn't asked any questions, happy that the child believed him. He hoped that Tom Jr. would never lose that innocence, but knew all good things had to end. Tom started up his conversation about Quidditch with Sergei again as if Fulver had never made an odd request. Even Jean had become more entertained by the conversation, asking here and there about the sport. Slowly he pieced together the rules of Quidditch, and was soon very excited to see the game.

Jean had looked one last time over at the Slytherin table before they left the Great Hall. He had been surprised to see Tom Riddle staring back at him, a strange look of anger, puzzlement and interest in his eyes. Fulver glared at Riddle, then turned and walked away.