Serpentine [T.M. Riddle]

Autumn

The summer offers ample enough distraction from his upperclassman's silence. Granted, most of those distractions are his current terrible living conditions, but beggars can't be choosers, right? Wrong. He damn well can and will. Finding loopholes in this damn underage magic restriction is at the top of his list, followed by multiple letters to and from his other, more attentive classmates. In the background of the other children playing or talking, he's out trying to harness more of wandless magic, like he could before all this happened to him. He plays with his own magic, trying to feel a texture. A temperature. Anything. There's varied success: Tom is now well aware of his own magic, but only just. On boring afternoons and sleepless nights, he can gently prick his skin with it (it resembles bird feet hopping all along him). Sadly, he has yet to manage to intimidate anyone with it. At least, not without losing his sense and temper. It's a little to start, but it's something. He reminds himself of where he started on the hard days: not just on this but also on other things like literacy (his reading comprehension and handwriting, for example, had been comparatively abysmal thanks to the orphanage's shit education system. Thank heavens for libraries.)

Tom refuses to stay stagnant over the summer and fall behind. The problem is that Tom also refuses to forget that he's being ignored. Allegedly. Perhaps something happened. Perhaps she found out. Or forgot him. Is he that forgettable? Is the time and energy and a...attention that he spent on her so easily thrown away?

If he could write first, he would. Unfortunately he has no owl of his own, and no means to get one. He has no guardian to take him to any public owlery, and absolutely no real money to spend on a decent one for himself anyways (those sickles need to be saved, dammit). He could borrow one of his classmates' owls and use them to send to Ximena instead...Alas, that's tricky for a multitude of reasons. 'But my letters are all read by the Abbess. I can't disguise my words...She already suspects something strange about this school.' Cursed woman. Tom hasn't ever met her, and he already despises her. Would his letters be intercepted? Even if they weren't, he can't expect that any of his classmates' owls would be able to make the trip to Ximena, and then come back for his reply to their owner and then fly over back home. Poor exhausted creatures, he'd be raising suspicion immediately.

Oh, he could be open about it. Ask Abbas or Nemesis for an owl to borrow in order to write to someone...Without a doubt, they would help him.

But then they would ask questions.

Is it too much to ask to keep Ximena all to himself? Surely not.

So he waits.

Everyday, he goes through the motions of his routine. He wakes, eats, plays by himself in a corner of the yard, studies his books until lunch, eats a miserable lunch, retreats to his room to read (or prepare for an adoption interview, depending on the day), fiddle with the charmed bracelet, and then sit down at dinner.

After dinner would depend entirely on whether the matron was feeling generous or not: sometimes she allowed the children and workers to gather in the main room and listen to her radio. The music and programs were a nice change of pace, but Tom likes the shows the best. The acting and suspense in every broadcast always has him on the edge on his seat for more...When he was younger, he wished he could meet the radio stars. Be their friends and go on their show. He wanted to show them his room.

But the closer September 1st comes, the more the radio talks of war.

His fellow orphans speak excitedly about it and, perhaps shamefully, so does he: none of them have any real concept of war. To them, war is a game to be played during a recess. With the old, feathered playing cards that have passed through many hands. The adults, on the other hand, speak lowly about it when they think the children aren't listening. They are old enough to remember the last war. One of them lost their brother, another a husband, another a son. The groundskeeper of Wool's, an older man with a heavy limp, was injured in Marne (the first and second battle.) He's the one who worries the most, because when the broadcasts speak of Hitler, Tom sees his hands tremble.