Memories and families
On the first weekend of August, Patrick, the Riddles chauffeur, drove Thomas, Mary, Cecilia and Tom Marvolo to London. Tom Senior had not been able to go, as he had to look after little Jane, and, even if nobody had said that, because it would have probably triggered his trauma. Despite the fact, that Tom’s resentment for his birth mother had only grown over the years, he would have lied if he had said that he wasn’t excited. Diagon Ally had been so beautiful and in Borgin and Burke’s he had met a witch his age. He could not really recall her name, he had been only five after all and Merope didn’t like it one bit when he played with other kids. (“You could get injured, my little adder. Better stay in the house with mommy and daddy all day. Come on, give mommy a kiss!”)
But Tom did remember that his friend used to be the shopkeeper’s daughter. Borgin was his name and he had been after Merope’s special necklace all the time. Tom still remembered that necklace, a golden locket with a green S on it, quite well. One time he had played with it, on one of the many boring days, locked in the flat, and it had fallen into the toilet. Suddenly Merope stopped coddling him and had gotten really angry. She had shouted at him in her shrill voice, about how it was an heirloom, passed down from the greatest wizard of all time, much better than Tom, the useless son of a muggle, could ever be, and had beaten him with a shoe. Then she had forced him to pick the necklace out of the toilet with his bare hands. Just a few hours later, she had pretended that nothing had happened and offered him a biscuit. “Come on Tom, give Mommy a kiss!”, she had said then. Tom hated that damn necklace ever since!
“Come on, Junior, get out of the car! Patrick, my cloak, thank you dear. Junior, why are you taking so long?”, grandma Mary snapped him out of his memories. Tom blinked a few times and slid out of his car seat, taking Patrick’s offered hand. “Thank you, Patrick!”, he piped and flashed the driver a wide smile. Tom liked Patrick and his son Frank, who was already twenty and had started to help his mother in in the Riddle’s large garden. Frank had planted a nice flower bed with big black rocks, just for Miss Noodles to sunbathe in and loved to tell Tom all there was to know about the different flowers and herbs in the garden.
Nobody in Riddle Manor forced him to put his hand into toilets or beat him with shoes. It had to be the best home ever! Tom took grandpa Thomas’ hand and looked up to his family and Patrick with big eyes. “So, darling, where is that entry into the wizard world?”, mom asked and gently placed a cap onto Tom’s head. “Right over there!”, he beamed and pointed at the leaky cauldron, just across the street. “I could have sworn that was not there ten seconds ago”, grandfather muttered grumpily. “Oh, shush, Thomas, let’s just get this over with!”, grandma scolded him and marched forward. The rest of the Riddle family and their driver followed the lady.
Mary Riddle marched through the leaky cauldron like she owned the place. “So, Junior, how do we get into that street, where all the things you need are sold?”, she asked, clutching Dumbledore’s letter. Tom tried to remember. “I think we need to go into the back yard. Merope used to do something there... I can’t recall what.”, Tom muttered. “All right dear. I’m sure we will find someone, who knows.”, Cecilia said with a gentle smile. “I say we just go into the back. If this is the only way to get into this Diagon Alley, then surely others will cross through too.”, grandpa Thomas decided and walked forward.
The little yard behind the pub looked and smelled just as dirty as Tom had remembered. Cecilia and Mary hitched their skirts, to protect them from the weird brown goo on the floor. “This is... disgusting.”, mommy Cecilia complained with and pinched her nose. Grandpa stepped forward and began knocking against the bricks. “Are you sure that the entry is here, Junior?”, he asked, raising his bushy, gray eyebrows. Tom nodded. “Yes, it was here. It always smelled this terrible, I remember that! The woman did something with her wand, I think.”
“Tom, you don’t have a wand yet. That’s what we are here for, isn’t it?”, Patrick inquired and looked around, as if he expected a wand to lay next to one of the garbage piles. Tom shook his head.
“No Minerva, I am not buying you a broom! You are a first year. You are not allowed to have one yet!”, a strict voice suddenly proclaimed behind them. The Riddles turned around, to see a tall woman wearing bright green robes and a man in a cheap suit who accompanied a dark-haired girl in Tom’s age out of the pub. “Please, mommy! You had one too!”, the girl plead. “I had one in second grade, Minerva!”, the woman scolded her daughter. “Are you on your way to Diagon Alley too?”, grandpa asked the small familiy with a polite nod.
The woman and her daughter stopped arguing about brooms and smiled at the Riddles. “Oh, yes, we are. It’s our dear Minerva’s first year in Hogwarts and we have a lot of shopping to do, as it seems.”, the man answered, also smiling. “That’s great. Our Tom here is also a new first year. Do you happen to know how we can get into the alley?”, mommy Cecilia immediately inquired. The tall woman who did not want to buy a broom nodded.
“You just have to tap your wand...”, she hesitated and then tapped a brick with her wand, “Against this brick. It’s three up and two across.” Suddenly the bricks slid to the side, revealing a narrow street flanked by shops. It was amazing. Tom had completely forgotten how impressive this place was. Now the woman turned to Grandma and Grandpa. “Say, are all of you Muggles? Because if that's the case, you'll probably have to exchange some money in the bank.”
Grandma Mary looked at Tom with utter confusion on her face. “Yes, they are all Muggles.”, he replied and then quickly added, “And thank you very much for opening the passageway for us, Madam.” The witch smiled down on him. “Thats not a problem at all! You see, my husband Robert here is a Muggle too. Why don't we all go to the bank together?”, she said and pulled Minerva away from a shop that sold used broomsticks. “That would be very nice, thank you.”, grandma Mary piped, hooked her arm around grandpa Thomas and off they went.