Pity the Living ♔ Tom Riddle

1 || A Strange Man

July 1936.

London.

No one noticed when a young man appeared out of thin air on the street, walking determinedly towards the entrance of the orphanage, in a fine suit that no doubt cost more than the price of the entire orphanage's clothing ration combined. He had short blonde hair slicked to the side, with piercing blue eyes that observed his surroundings critically. His hands were in his pocket, fiddling with a carved stick hidden out of sight. A thin layer of sweat formed under his suit, and it became apparent to the man that perhaps England wasn't as cold year round as it was made out to be. The July sun created a blanket of heat over the city, forcing hundreds of children out of their homes to play football in the parks. Having tracked his intended target for hours, he had expected to find the girl with a family of immigrated Wizards; not in the disgusting sight before him, located in the most ghastly area of the city.

What on earth was a girl from German Wizarding descent doing in a Muggle orphanage in London?

He approached the small building, walked through the large gate and past the crowd of children playing in the courtyard. He couldn't believe the dozens and dozens of children could all fit into the falling-apart structure before him. Meanwhile, the children had frozen and stared wide-eyed at the visitor. It wasn't often a rich man visited the orphanage, but if they did, it was usually for the wrong reasons. One child from the nearby orphanage went home one day with a wealthy older man and was found floating in the Thames a week later.

He knocked on the door, coming face to face with a very unattractive woman, who stared up and down, rather unsubtly, at the handsome man before her. She immediately hustled him inside.

"What can I help you with, sir?" she smirked, leading him into her office, which was littered with a rather large collection of cheap brandy. Her hips swayed in what he assumed was supposed to be a seductive motion, but only made her appear more of a fool.

"I am a Professor from a prodigious school in Germany, and I have been sent to fetch a young girl who has been registered to the school since her birth. Her name is Gisela," he replied. The matron froze and narrowed her eyes at his foreign accent.

"Are you one of Hitler's dogs?" sneered the woman, her demeanour changing instantly. The man raised his eyebrows at her but continued. "I don't care what the newspapers say. No anti-Semitic should be allowed to host the Olympics."

"Our school has no affiliation with the Nazis, but of course we support our Führer," he replied smoothly, putting his hands in his suit pockets.

"The girl doesn't have a surname, but you expect me to believe this story? I know what you people think of people like me. You're trying to take her back to your country of racists."

"I most certainly am not. I have no predisposition to hate Jews. Now, may I ask your name?" he answered smoothly, hiding his growing frustration.

"It's Mrs Cole to you, now -" her angry face turned blank suddenly, making the man smirk.

"You will show me to the girl now," he said.

"I will show you to the girl."

"Good, thank you, Mrs Cole. Lead the way," he motioned, and she walked animatedly out of her office and in the direction of the narrow stairs.

He followed her up, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet as he stared around in disgust at his surroundings. The place was half falling apart, with holes in the walls and collapsed stairs on the way up to the second floor. At least there was no dirt, but he assumed that was because the dreadful woman made the children run the place rather than herself. He shivered at the thought of growing up in a hellhole like this.