Chapter 2

486 20 0
                                    

March 10, 1935 (Part 2)

First day in Wool's Orphanage

          "There, at the bottom of this corridor, are the bathrooms-- girls and boys, separated, of course," The staff, you've learned her name to be Miss Adams, drawled out in the most disinterested tone you've ever heard her speak, as the both of you walked down the said corridor to lead you to your room; your belongings trailing behind you as you dragged them on the wooden floor. The cranky git didn't even bother to assist. "Just so you know, classes start tomorrow, and as it turns out I'll be one of your teachers. Usually, it's Cole's job to handle the likes of you to settle, but as of now, she's not available," Well that figures why she's not the welcoming type. She talks to you as if you're of a different species she could belittle. "Also, Martha would be your counselor. She'll give you the details as soon as she sees you,"

Your face scrunched up in confusion when you heard that you'll be part of some sort of therapy session. Without wasting a beat, you asked her why.

"Two men brought you in, unconscious, and told me you ran away from home because your parents died. You're lucky that they didn't choose to abduct you," The brunette explained briefly, as you pieced out what happened while you were out cold. Those lying fucks. It was just your mother that died, and your father was imprisoned in Azkaban for life!

Now that you think about it, it does sound like you'll need the sessions.

Being a pure-blood, most would think you'd be wealthy. Those assumptions aren't often wrong; this is one of those cases. With no relatives to claim the Emrys manor, much less take care of you (even with a house elf), you can't inherit and live there until you're right of age. Besides, with Grindelwald's terrorism happening across Europe, it'd be risky for Merlin's descendant to be influenced by the mad man's beliefs; so, they chose to hide you off in the muggle world.

Soon enough, Miss Adams stopped by a door and fished for the keys in her uniform's pocket to unlock it, giving you the impression that you must have reached your destination; your room.

"Here, we have a few albeit strict rules. Our curfew starts at night: 9 o'clock sharp. Everyone should be in there dorms by that time," She emphasized the word 'sharp', right after the door knob made a satisfying click. "Otherwise, there will be severe punishments," Then, she opened the wooden door to reveal a small space. "Lunch starts at twelve, dinner at six, and breakfast at eight-- those who fail to show up starve," She seemed to have shown slight amusement in her gray eyes at the given consequence, before stepping aside to let you in your room. "Weekdays would be class days; so, I expect you to be in the classroom by nine in the morning-- session ends at three in the afternoon. Supplies will be provided. Being tardy or skipping classes will not be tolerated." And with that, she turned and left, leaving you with your own thoughts, failing to see the eavesdropping children that had their doors slightly ajar to see the new comer.

Closing the door behind you, you then let go of your possessions, along with the pressure that subconsciously weighed your chest.

You could've been spending your time in attending your mother's private burial this Sunday morning, but instead, you're transferring the contents of your luggage in your given dorm. The room wasn't particularly big, although it was satisfactory. It contained of only a bed, a cupboard, and a window. With a bit of redecoration, it could be like home.

Alright, but not too like home. Coming from a family of wealthy pure-blooded wizards with a famous ancestor, it should be no surprise that your room back at home would be too... peculiar by muggle standards, and not to mention that it would risk exposure.

Cold-Blooded (Tom Riddle x Reader)Where stories live. Discover now