The Fear in The Child

4

At long last, Tom could breathe freely for the first time in several days. Rather, somewhat freely. In his defense, it was not as though he really wanted to be stuck in a bloody dark house alone with a ton of Gryffindors. He noticed it too, the questioning glances he would receive, the narrowed eyes from the others, the pity in them. He hated pity. What, just because Slytherin waltzes in and manages to calm him from nightmares means that he is broken, that he cannot handle himself anymore? He does not need pity, he hated pity. Furthermore, they had something else coming if they thought that he would be so weak as to break just because of a nightmare. He had been having nightmares for years, and years, and years. Nightmares are one of those things that he was used to. He had them all the time at the Orphanage and quite a few at Hogwarts. He was not so weak as to need aid after one stupid nightmare. Yet, they all seemed to just hover over him. He did not appreciate their pity, he did not care for them at all. They had not cared much over him, but for the fact that it was the seemingly great Albus Dumbledore who had watched over him and brought him to their stupid sanctuary.

Still, at least those Gryff kids had not noticed. Though he did see that that Potter boy kept trying to, in vain, befriend him. He was not interested in becoming friends. He did not care what the Potter boy thought of him, nor really any of the others. He would eventually have no need for their pathetic ideals. He was tired of being used by Gryffindors. Dumbledore was bad enough, he was not about to lower himself so as to befriend Harry Potter. He may not know why in the world that kid seemed so shocked that he had not known his name, but it was enough of a realization that he would refuse to befriend the boy. He did not need an arrogant gryffindor to be his friend. He was not about to lower himself to such pitiful standards.

It was not just because the boy was a Gryffindor either. Tom found him dense. He could barely hold a proper incantation, let alone anything of substance. He disliked the boy immensely. As for the Weasley boy, the one around Potter's age...it was bad enough that the Potter boy wanted to be friends, it would seem that the Weasley boy was just as intrigued about his appearance as others. He did not care to befriend those who were merely curious about him. Allow them to be curious, who cared? Then, the other one. That Granger girl. She was rather intelligent, he would give her that...In Books. Not in active magic. Magic is a complicated thing, and books are only good for so many things. This girl foolishly relied on those books. She willingly limited herself. Foolish.

He hated Gryffindors. It was bad enough being stuck in a classroom with them at Hogwarts for at least a lesson every day, to be trapped within a house filled to the brim with those stupid Lions was more than he could possibly bear. Simply too much for him to handle. So...So...impulsive. It was ridiculous.

Now, though, Now he was headed to Kings Cross. He just wanted to get this whole thing over with. He refused to deal with this....inane things over and over and over again. He was tired of dealing with their misplaced pity, and those eyes shining with sadness over something that they simply could not begin to even comprehend.

"Tom, are you sure that you will be fine?" Tom inwardly sighed, and closed his eyes. He was so close, so close to freedom. Just a few more seconds and he would be through the barrier, on Platform 9 and 3/4, and he would be stepping foot on the train to Hogwarts. First, he had to answer this stupid head of house, Arthur.

"Yes, Sir, I am perfectly certain. I will ensure that I am careful, and shall maintain my safety over the year. I heard that it can get rather reckless sometimes." Arthur laughed.

"You must have been listening to Fred and George." Tom inwardly scoffed at that. As though he actually needed to be paying attention to them to hear the insane things which had gone on at Hogwarts. Even if he had not gone to Hogwarts in the 1940s, it would have been relatively easy to pick up, accidentally, with how many times that Trio talk of their so called 'adventures'. Tom liked to call them morons riding a thin line. Eventually, it would snap and send them tumbling into the abyss. He would just wait, and watch as it happened. It could not take too long, after all.

"Sir, I assure you, that I will be perfectly fine. I am quite excited to learn." He was, that was no lie. Tom was excited to learn, and excited to get out of that dreary house. As much as he loved the Black Residence, it was tainted with Gryffindor presence. Something he could barely handle himself.

"Very well, send us letter when you get the chance." Tom smiled, and inclined his head slightly, before turning himself abruptly to the wall, and rushing through without another care in the world.

He did not bother to look behind him. Why would he? He did not really care for anyone who was behind him, and nor did he really want to even look at their faces once more. The most bearable ones were still Gryffindors and had no sense of propriety, though he had to admit that they had some tolerable conversations between the three of them. The Twins were a wealth in knowledge, which Tom had aptly exploited for his own means.

Tom swiftly placed himself in a compartment, which was empty and he breathed out allowing his tension to leave him. He sighed, and placed his head in his hands. It was almost too much. He desperately wished to scrub his skin red from the mere thought of his presence being within those graceless beings. It was fine.

He inhaled shakily, and exhaled. Swiftly repeating the process over and over again until he was relatively calm. He looked at himself in the window reflection. His dark brown eyes seemed lifeless, but it had been a long while since that spark was reflected back at him. His black hair was elegantly curved over one eye, and his lean form (more leaning towards starvation rather than just lean) was pale, as usual. Still, he did not need to dwell on other factors. As much as the people within the Black house had tried, he had not yet managed to gain weight. He tried to avoid them as much as possible, and that included meals. He did not want to eat them, and he was tired of dealing with them enough as he walked around. He could sense their presence and it grated on his nerves.

It was enough. He was going to Hogwarts. He would quickly gain the weight which he had lost during his time at the Orphanage, and soon he would be as healthy as he always was. At least, while he was at Hogwarts. He had a feeling though...That teacher, which had come to him during his nightmare. He had a feeling that he knew more than he was letting on, and if nothing else, the man was observant. Tom would need to watch out for him. Though he doubted the other would bring anything up as bluntly as the Weasly's had.

He sighed heavily, and jerked towards the door as it slid open, his eyes hot with a glare, body posed to attack, fingers twitching, and body thrumming with instinctive magic.