Cold as Snow (A Harry Potter Fanfic)

A New Home

Snowflakes splattered themselves against the smudged glass that Tom gloomily gazed out of, attempting to ignore the chill of the melted snow on his clothes and his empty stomach. He had been denied dinner, again, this time it wasn’t even his fault. He’d been thinking up forms of revenge while the older kids continued to mock him when the older bullies suddenly sped away and went running to the caretakers about having a demon companion. Word got to the over religious Miss Cole and to bed he went. His room was locked and bolted and would only be opened come the following morning when school began once more, he’d learned this from experience. 

Yet Tom didn’t hate his solitary confinement, in actuality the four walls were more of a comfort to him than any material possession, person or sustenance could ever be. He wasn’t allowed out often, so Tom entertained himself by reading stolen books from the older children and observing the passing adults on the street who looked like nothing more than insects from his tiny window. Either way, Tom took pleasure from his own company, unlike other young children who would cry for attention. At least Miss Cole didn’t force him to attend church anymore. A minute shudder shook his bony shoulders, not because of his damp clothes, but in remembrance. They were the evil ones, not him.

A dark splotch moving quickly across the white scenery stole his attention. It was a person in a heavy looking cloak, Tom attempted to peer at the mystery man’s face but only saw distorted features. Unsettled, he drew back from the window, pensively tapping his fingers against the glass. It must have been the man’s frantic walking pace. A flash of colour drew his eyes back to the window and goosebumps broke out across his skin. 

The figure had stopped dead and all Tom could see was a flash of green. The chilling moment passed as soon as it started, the hood was pulled further down the man's face as he continued his brisk pace towards the orphanage doors. Tom continued to stare at the white snow where the man had stood for a long moment, an uneasy feeling creeping along his skin when realising that he couldn’t discern any emotion from the man in the remembered interaction which made the usually astute child frown in mild annoyance.

Tom huffed as he fell back onto his bed, jolting his bruised elbow in the process. A sharp hiss escaped through gritted teeth. Seething at his own stupidity, he slowly laid back on the bed, clutching his bare elbow in a nail digging grip. The groan of the metal frame seemed to mimic his perturbed mood. What could a man like that be doing at an orphanage? Tom doubted he was a beggar, but he didn't dress like the type of person who would be able to provide for a child. 

Suddenly, heavy footsteps could be heard on the stairs making Tom spring to a standing position. Brushing down his clothing, he nervously waited for the footfalls to undoubtedly cease at his door, there would be no other reason for anyone to take a trip to the 2nd floor. The sharp sound of the lock being unlatched brought a small sense of hope to the dark haired child, hope that he wouldn’t go hungry this time. The feeling was snuffed out by the cold gaze and intimidating demeanour of Miss Cole.

“Come on boy, someone’s here to adopt and he insisted on all the children being present, even the nasty evil ones like you.”

Tom glowered, feeling a rolling sea of hate as Miss Cole sniffed disdainfully and turned to walk back the way she came, not bothering to wait for Tom. If he didn’t follow, the better in her mind. Bitterly, he swallowed the scathing words and obediently followed, keeping his gaze on the floor, for he knew it was less likely he’d be reprimanded. 
After all, he didn’t want to miss the possibility of being adopted, even if it might be by that strange man. A hesitant, giddy feeling began to unfold in his chest. Usually he was kept in his room when parents came by, like a dirty secret Tom thought resentfully, so it was surprising that Miss Cole had a change of heart concerning the matter, especially considering he’d been ‘bad’ earlier.