A Sanctuary in Making
Through the weaving vines and the rough branches, a quaint cottage stood proud in a small clearing within the dense forest. The slight buzzing of something in the surrounding air, noticeable only to the highly magically-sensitive beings, formed a muggle-repelling ward intertwined with a series of protective charms that remained strong despite its years of age. The magical energy didn’t end there, for it extended all the way to the interiors of the home. From the wooden floors to the ceiling beams, the nature of their magic matched the wards. It didn’t need to be said, just how powerful a single house elf was to build an entire home from the ground up.
A roar of flames cut through the air, finding a place amongst the gentle rustling of the leaves and the melodious chirping of the birds. Just as quickly as it had come, the fiery green disappeared back into the fireplace and ashes flew about as a figure stepped out of the hearth into the living room.
“I’m home!”
A feminine voice rang out cheerily, immediately followed by a cacophony of coughs as the new arrival tried to get rid of the dust caught in her throat. Footsteps sounded from the kitchen and, soon, appeared the house elf behind the creation of the cottage herself. A frown decorated her lips as she walked towards the fireplace, clearing the mess of ashes and floo powder with a flick of her hand. “Miss Tina must remember! Do not speak until-”
“-the air is clear, right.” Thea managed to rasp out verbatim to the elf’s previous warnings, sending the latter a sheepish grin as she apologised, “sorry, Tally. Still riding off the high of a mission success; Riddle didn’t kill me! Well- we knew he wouldn’t, not in public like that, but- point is, he got my present!”
Tally let out a relieved sigh at the verbal confirmation of Thea’s safety and quirked her lips up at Thea’s infectious joy. “Tally is glad Miss Tina is alright. Tally is sure Mr. Riddle will enjoy Miss Tina’s gift.”
Thea snorted out a laughter, “if anything, he probably thinks I’m loony.”
“Well…”
“Wha- hey!”
The exaggerated offended expression didn’t even last two seconds on Thea’s face and a grin made its way to her lips as Tally laughed in bright humour. Only once her laughter had died down did Tally speak again. “Anyways, Tally has cleaned up the house and Miss Tina’s trunk is in her bedroom.”
“Thanks, Tally! Have I told you recently just how wonderful you are? Absolutely marvellous, the best of the best, utterly magnificent-” Being in close distance with Tally, Thea couldn’t dodge the tickle hex aimed at her and only made an “oof” sound in surprise, having felt nothing but a tingle of magic on her arm where it should have tickled. She gave a breath of laughter and yielded anyway. “Alright, alright! I’ll stop.”
Tally huffed in feigned indignation and nodded approvingly. Though, the sharp upright of her ears told of her fluster at Thea’s dramatic but genuine compliments, and that didn’t go unnoticed by the girl. Grinning, Thea leaned down to give Tally an overdue hug of greeting which went reciprocated and she planted a chaste peck to Tally’s cheek before parting.
“I’ll go and wash up now. Be right back to help with dinner.” Thea received a hum of acknowledgement in response as she headed towards her room to grab her clothes. Just before she exited the living room, she called out cheekily a final time, “thanks again for taking care of the house, mum!”
She somehow managed to dodge the hex this time despite knowing its lack of effectiveness on her; it was in the nature of every human-to-house-elf bond that each party could not harm each other with their own magic. Additionally, Thea and Tally had, in boredom, tried to test the limits of hexes at one point and, true to Magic, none of their spells felt anything more than a gentle touch to their skin. That had been fun!
Thea was only eight years old when the pair had met. She had been out in the park with the other kids when the orphanage matron had allowed them to leave the confines of the dreary place to bask in the sun for a few hours. While exploring the area that she had been all too familiar with, she had come across a huddled figure in a tight alley, shivering violently even under the summer heat. The hooded figure had taken notice of her presence immediately and they met eyes before Thea could leave in apprehension. Her jaw had dropped upon the sight of features resembling E.T. and it took a moment for her to register the familiarity of the wide eyes and flappy ears. That was when it had clicked in her mind that the wizarding world was real.
A brief glance around herself told Thea that no one was nearby besides the supervising matrons who were busy with the kids, who were in turn occupied with each other’s imaginary world, and she took the chance to step into the alley, slowly so as to not alarm the elf. “Are you alright,” she had asked, and the elf weakly shook her head before explaining her circumstances through gritted teeth. Thea listened sympathetically as Tally – as she had introduced herself – told her that her own magic had been gradually corrupting her vitality ever since she had been kicked out by her previous master without any support that would ensure she remained bonded to someone; to a house elf, a bond was a sure way to keep their magic in check. Unhesitatingly, Thea had volunteered to bond with Tally and was quickly disheartened when she was told that she had to be magical to do so. Touched by Thea’s compassion, Tally had shared her hopes that Thea could turn out to be a witch after all.
And so, Thea absorbed Tally’s instruction attentively and memorised the words that could potentially bound them together with ease. Once the words could flow out of her fluently, Thea took Tally’s offered hand – for any sort of physical contact had to be established for it to succeed – and recited the sentences with determination. When the first rope of icy blue light appeared out of thin air to wrap and twist around their clasped hands, Thea learned that she was magical. A few more sentences later, as the final words rolled off Thea’s tongue, the magical light enclosing their hands split off to travel down their respective arms and into their chest. Warmth proceeded to engulf them and instantly, Tally felt her pain ease away with the light. Thea gave Tally a worried once-over when the light had faded away and mirrored her relieved smile upon noticing that the tremors and twitches of pain had stopped and that life had returned to her eyes. An almost never-ending round of gratitude left Tally in tearful waves and Thea gave her what was to be their first embrace of many more in that dimly-lit alleyway one fated day.
Aware of the fact that Tally could not just show up in the orphanage to take care of Thea as the elf had silently vowed to do, Tally offered to set up a place of lodging in the forest a good distance away from the mansion of her previous master. She had roamed the expansive woods before and knew without a doubt that it could provide sustenance for the growing girl. Moreover, Tally was exceptional in her magical abilities and, even in her weakened state, could provide a temporary shelter until she felt better enough to house them in a more stable home.
As an orphan who got through each day with passive dread and a lifetime of memories to haunt her – however short that ‘lifetime’ was – and with a newfound sense of belonging in the magical realm, Thea had nothing to lose if she chose to tag along. Hence, she did so willingly. Since then, Theana Cora Grace had been filed as an unfortunate missing child in the muggle world, much to her humour.
Thea took the chance of living with Tally to learn the intriguing art of Magic. Having yet to be bestowed with a wand, the magic that she could learn were limited to simple wandless charms which they eventually found out was right up her alley. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that her seventeen years’ worth of experiences as a ‘genius and promising’ talent well-versed in the Arts had a hand in helping her control her magic to make it dance alongside her intent and focus. One perk of not having a wand, she had yet to be placed under the Trace.
When Thea received her Hogwarts’ letter, they both made arrangements with the headmaster for Tally to work in Hogwarts during the school years until Thea graduated as per the elf’s wish to not be shackled to isolation for most of the year with no one else she could turn to. Thus, Thea had previously alighted the train without any luggage in sight as Tally had taken it with her when she had left Hogwarts for home for the summer.
That night, the first of that summer after Thea’s fifth year, Tally and Thea sat in the living-dining room, nursing themselves to oranges, which Thea had learned early on were Tally’s favourites, as they chatted peacefully.
Or, at least, as peacefully as Thea could as she racked her brain to fill in the void of her uncertainty.
“I don’t know, I just- I’m positively certain my guts aren’t in shambles right now for no reason- and it’s not the food! The food was amazing as usual, Tally, thank you – I meant my guts in a metaphorical sense. I’m definitely forgetting something vital and important about Riddle and I just don’t know what!”
Tally graced Thea with her sympathies and patted the woman’s arm in a show of understanding. “It will come to Miss Tina eventually. Miss Tina should not turn her head over about it. Here-” She picked off a slice of orange and held it in front of Thea’s lips, “eat an orange.”
A warm smile lifted the corner of Thea’s lips and she let Tally feed her the slice, her fingers resuming their work in peeling the orange’s skin. As she chewed, other uncertainties began ravaging her mind.
“You know, there’s no guarantee he’ll even give my book recommendations a fleeting thought.”
Another orange slice found its way against her lips and she obediently ate it with fond amusement, familiar with Tally’s way of showing her love and care. There wasn’t much the elf could do to ease the woman’s worry about a potentially budding dark lord and Thea had understandably rejected Tally’s offer to spike Tom’s meal with poison – though, she did say it could be a last resort. So, Tally settled on consoling words and oranges.
As it turns out, Thea had no reason to doubt Tom’s interest in her sudden insertion into his life.
It was the morning after Tom had gotten back from King’s Cross and he inevitably returned to staring at the pieces of heavily-creased square papers laying neatly on his table. True to Thea’s words, her gift consisted of book titles that he had divided into the ‘muggle’ and ‘magical’ category. What had perplexed him, amongst everything else that her existence had brought with her, was the fact that she had taken the time to fold each small paper into paper cranes, just as she had done with the first title she had given him back at the bathroom. This time, however, as if she was insisting that it really was a ‘gift’ and not a taunt, each crane had a light blue ribbon wrapped around its neck, each with its own unique ‘imperfections’ that had solidified his guess that she had done every one of them manually. Why go to such lengths, he wondered.
The void echoed his question without an answer in sight.
His sharp eyes scanned the words in front of him again. He had, at this point, memorised each title and had no need of the papers anymore. Intrigue overcame practicality, and he, nonetheless, kept the papers just as he had done with the first one.
There were seven titles that came with the paper bag; seven paper cranes with its personal ribbon which colour reminded him of her mighty panther.
The muggle category included the titles:
Leadership 101; How to Lead to Success
Study of the Brain, chapter 8: Maturity
History and the Madness Within: Consequences of Inbreeding
While the magical ones:
Body of the Soul? Or Soul of the Body?, chapter 6: Growth
Responsibilities of a Lordship
Why do Muggleborns Exist?, (especially) chapter 3 & 4
Amortentia: True Love Born into a Loveless Marriage?
He was – thank the Magic – allowed to venture out of the orphanage so long as he returned in time for curfew so he had decided to spend the entirety of the summer either with a job in Diagon Alley or taking refuge in the city library. He would be off to Diagon after breakfast that day which would allow him to seek out the titles that had been specially curated for him.
Once again, he was struck with the implication that Thea knew of his interest in soul-splitting because for what other reason would she recommend he seek out a book on souls? He could technically choose to turn a blind eye to all of this without a care, but if he was right about Thea knowing what role he had played in all those petrification at school just weeks ago, then what would stop her from telling anyone else about it if he decided to ignore her? The possible fact that she knew meant that he was already balancing on a tightrope and he could only heed her silent words at this stage in time.
Tom rolled back his shoulders in an attempt to ease his tension off and leaned back into his chair as his gaze wandered off to stare at the wall in front of him. He began compiling every instance Thea had appeared in his memories and tried to make sense of her character with only a single one-minute-long exchange spearheading his search for understanding.
She had been bright when she had approached him on the train platform. Memories of her smiles flickering by of every time she had cordially greeted him in passing suggested that her cheeriness was simply in her nature. It stood strong even against the sympathetic eyes thrown her way when others were quick to judge her intent and Tom felt justified enough to characterise her as a self-assured woman capable of withstanding unwanted criticisms.
Then there was the fact that she seemed to be incredibly talented in magic. Her capability to summon a patronus aside – which, itself, was enough evidence to hint at her prowess – he had heard his fair share of admiration of her skills from Professor Horace Slughorn during Slug Club meetings. The potions professor had, more than once, expressed his disappointment over Thea’s rejection of the Slug Club throughout their years in Hogwarts. “It just isn’t my scene”, Slughorn had quoted her before breaking off into songs of praises of her potion-making skills that had achieved “high-grade potions, much like yours, Tom!”
Following that, Tom had spent a week with mild interest in the girl but she would always keep to herself in class and out, never voluntarily speaking in class nor taking part in any social clubs in her leisure times. There was almost nothing of note and her presence almost blended into the sea of students in his mind.
A frown crept onto his lips when he realised an anomaly: she was, more often than not, alone. Surely someone as good-natured and brilliant as her wouldn’t find themselves short of friends? But no, in every glimpse of her in his mind that he turned to – which was plenty, due to that one week of curiosity – she only had herself for company and perhaps a book in hand. She was amicable with everyone she had interacted with, however, and there was no lingering tension nor a spark of discord amongst the badgers.
An oddity, that was for sure. And someone he would have to keep a close eye on come the next school year.
All things considered, he would have to find a way to get to know her, to unravel her truths and learn of her secrets no matter what. She was a formidable foe, he decided, and she would not catch him off-guard anymore.
Oh, how he would look back to this day with fond humour and disbelief.