TORMENT (Harry Potter Sequel)

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Good evening Tom, nice to see you again," greeted the Headmaster warmly, "I hope you had a good summer."

Tom entered Harry Potter's office and, as usual, was completely stunned and taken aback by its spectacular appearance. He looked around, his eyes darting around the room as he walked slowly and took his usual seat opposite the Headmaster: Professor Harry Potter's desk. He slumped into it casually.

"It was fine," Tom mumbled.

"That's good, that's good- how's the orphanage?" Harry knew the question would be awkward but he'd decided after last year that he really needed to start investigating more into Tom's past. Finding out that he had an inability to read made Harry begin to consider the fact that maybe not everything was as good as gold in Tom's 'home life'.

Tom slightly bristled at Harry's question but answered, "It was fine," he repeated.

Harry decided it best to change the subject, "I notice you didn't listen at all to my speech at the feast," he said, "Shame. I think it was probably my best ever. I get better at this job every year."
"I think you were always good," Tom murmured, staring around at the marvellous array and shelves of beautiful books surrounding the office.

"Thank you Tom, that means a lot," said Harry, genuinely surprised in receiving a compliment from Tom.

"Who are you comparing yourself to?" Tom asked curiously. Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed. He lifted an arm and pointed up to one of the paintings that donned the wall of the magnificent office. The man in the painting looked kind of similar to Harry Potter but was, of course, much older. He had a stunning, vibrant robe and a shockingly white beard whilst wearing spectacles.

"Albus Dumbledore. Surely you've heard of him?" he turned back to Tom to only receive a look of blankness in return. He looked at Tom curiously, "You haven't?"

"Who the hell is Albus Dumbledore?" Tom looked at the painting. The man in it was currently asleep. It was probably for the best. When paintings get agitated it's always annoying.

"He is... the greatest wizard of all time," Harry said solemnly, admiration still in his voice after all these years.

"I thought that was you."
Harry shot Tom a weird look, "What? Me?"

Tom shrugged, "That's what the frog said."
"Frog? What frog-" understanding then suddenly crept onto Harry's face, "Ohhh! You mean the chocolate frogs!"

Tom nodded slowly, "Something about... lightning... the 'Dark Lord'... I barely remember."

"Ah yes," Harry smirked and pushed aside his fringe, "My scar."
Tom leaned closer in a bit to look at Harry's forehead and noticed something he'd never seen before. A scar, shaped in a bolt of lightning was visible although very faded.

"Ever since Voldemort was defeated, it's only ever faded and faded. It may even disappear before I die."
"What is it?" inquired Tom, still leaning over and looking at it.

"You really don't know the story?" asked Harry astounded. He only spoke like this because he truly didn't enjoy recounting the story and preferred refraining from doing so whenever possible.

Tom shook his head, "I don't pay attention in class," he said as his 'excuse'. Harry shot him a withering look.

"And that is the problem," said Harry, a smirk then appearing on his face, "You know I think you'd know a whole lot more if you just opened your mind up to learning."

Tom just sat there, stony-faced. He didn't really know how to respond- nor did he really want or care to.

"I mean you probably still haven't tried out your wand!" Harry stood up from his desk and then gestured to Tom to also do the same. Tom pulled himself up slowly out of his chair.