Chapter 8
"You ruined everything, Tommy."
He whirled around, facing nothing but empty space. Still, it felt like...
"What..?" His voice was crystal clear in the nothingness, ringing for a split second before it disappeared.
"Oh, you know very well what. You know- you know."
He flinched at the resentment in her voice.
"I don't, Niki. You know that."
The emptiness was quiet.
"Why is it that I work so hard, so damn hard to help L'Manburg, but you get all the power and I get none? All the credit?"
"I didn't ask for that."
"But you still got it, and I didn't. You destroyed L'Manburg by trying to be a hero, Tommy-"
"Stop it, stop. I'm not a hero."
"-and everything I had worked for, everything I worked SO HARD FOR-"
Tommy woke up in a cold sweat. He blinked back tears laden with gunpowder smoke and dusty ruins.
Someone knocked at his door.
"C- Come in." He winced at how broken his voice sounded and swiped at his messy hair, swinging his legs over the mattress and looking to his right at the door. It quietly creaked open and Sirius slipped in, seating himself gently at Tommy's side.
"You alright?"
"Yeah, big man. Just- nightmares, is all. But don't you go fuckin' telling people about it. A man like me is far too big for nightmares."
Sirius smiled fondly. "You remind me a lot of an old friend, you know. Very…brash at times, but he was kind."
Tommy didn't think it was nice to mention the friend was being talked about in the past tense. He nodded.
Sirius' hand twitched towards Tommy's shoulder but he stopped himself, pressing his hand to the bed instead. "I have nightmares sometimes, too, Tommy. Don't worry too much about it. Everyone has bad days sometimes."
Tommy set his jaw, staring straight forward. "Guess so," he muttered stiffly.
Awkward silence settled between the two before Sirius stood up abruptly, hitting his head with a painful-sounding crack on the bedframe above. He groaned quietly, slumping back down and dropping his head into cupped hands.
Tommy's face flushed bright red and he whipped his head away from Sirius, a hand clamped over his mouth. His lungs felt about ready to pop.
"It's alright, you can- you can laugh."
A loud wheeze shot from Tommy's lungs and he leaned on an arm, cackling loudly as Sirius joined in with a deep, hearty laugh, still rubbing his head. Tommy wiped his mouth and coughed quietly as he stopped snickering, but all it took was another glance at Sirius' dejected face for the two to burst back into another laughing fit, Tommy giggling madly into his palm. He was the last to stop.
Sirius was staring at him fondly and Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Stop starin’, you creep.” Sirius just smiled more, but he moved his eyes from Tommy.
Dream stared, and Tommy didn’t like that. He was glad that Sirius had stopped, because Dream never did.
He needed to stop thinking about Dream, about the others, because last he checked they weren't here. So they weren't his problem. They weren't his responsibility.
Fuck, he sounded like Wilbur.
He buried his head in his hands, flinching at the hand that rested gently on his shoulder. "Prime- I don't wanna go with Tonks. I don't wanna go, Sirius."
"Why?" Sirius asked, voice laced with concern.
"Because I just...don't."
"Why don't you want to go with Tonks, Tommy?" Sirius was pressing too far for comfort. Too far, but-
Tommy kept his head nestled tightly in his palms. "She reminds me of...someone- I just- it's the hair, nothing else- and I know that's so stupid but I can't- I just can't-"
Sirius patted his shoulder, voice setting with reassurance. "I'll ask her to change the hair, then."
Tommy lifted his head. "What?"
"I'll ask her to change the hair. She's a Metamorphmagus, it'll be a piece of cake. I've watched her head change into a duck's before."
"Really- you can do that? Really, I- what do you want for it?"
Sirius pulled back. "Noth...ing, why do you ask?"
"Well usually people ask for something in return; a favour for a favour, that's how things work- shit, I'm sorry I didn't remember yesterday."
"Tommy. I don't know how you grew up, but that's not how things work around...anywhere here. You're giving me company by just being in this house and I'm unfathomably grateful for that; I was truly lonely before this. I don't need, nor do I want anything in return for anything I do for you. It's just something friends do for each other."
Tommy's face sank at the word 'friends'. Friends was what Dream had called the two, and Tommy knew one thing for certain: he did not like friends.
Sirius outstretched a hand and confusion streaked through his face as Tommy recoiled.
"Communication, it's important, Tommy. Tell people what you're feeling, even if it's just one word or a shake of the head. It's important to communicate."
"Not friends. Please don't ask why, I will not tell you, but just- not friends."
Sirius seemed curious but didn't press further, much to Tommy's relief. He hesitated. "Is rag buddies okay?"
Tommy's eyes softened. "Rag buddies is perfect. Shit, Puffy's a genius. So are you, big man. Uh...thanks."
Sirius nodded brightly. "What do you say we head down for breakfast, then Diagon Alley?" He nodded towards the door.
Tommy breathed in and out delicately, confirming all his limbs were still in contact with his brain. "Yeah, sure. And you asked me if I...mound- minded robes yesterday, and I am...sorry, big man, but what in Prime's name does that mean?"
Sirius laughed, standing up slower this time with a buffer hand on the wood above him. "Well, you're a Muggle-born, and usually it takes time to get acclimated to robes - standard wizard-wear. Madam Malkin's is the best for robes, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You'll have to go to a Muggle... retail store for your everyday clothes. Tonks knows a good one, or so I've heard."
Tommy stood up, ducking away from the top bunk. Sirius fished a wand from his robes, pointing it at his hand and tapping. A scroll and small bag materialized in his palm and they were handed off to Tommy, who shoved them carefully into his pocket.
Tommy stared at Sirius until the latter began to fidget uncomfortably. "That was like a drug deal," he whispered, covering his hand with a mouth and raising his eyebrows. "My third drug deal."
"My first," Sirius whispered back. "And I find it somewhat concerning that you've had two before this."
"Well yes, big man, I did many drugs before I came here. So, so many drugs. Exactly ze...ro thousand-million, in fact." Tommy topped off his hushed sentence with an affirming nod.
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Zero thousand-million?" he asked quietly, holding back a smirk.
"Well, Wil - real prick, let me tell you - wouldn't let me get my hands on any. The van was made for selling so many drugs, I didn't tell you that, but I, the greatest and most amazing second in command, did not get high. Once." Tommy sniffed sadly, turning away. "You take both those secrets with you to the grave, or I swear to Prime I'll haunt you for the rest of your most horrible and miserable life. And I'll steal one sock from each pair you own. I'll build a fuckin' massive fort out of your socks."
Sirius huffed quietly. "I'd like to see you try, Tommy the Toe Stubber."
Tommy's jaw dropped.
"You heard me," Sirius replied cooly.
Tommy crossed his arms. "It was not a stub, it was a bite and run, and big men like myself are never on the receiving end of bite and runs. I do all the biting and all the running." He flipped Sirius off. "I will even bite and run you someday, slightly less big man."
"Mm, sure." Sirius pulled his pocketwatch out in one fluid motion, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Breakfast is waiting downstairs. Tonks will be here 10 past 8 to take you to Diagon Alley."
"Right, don't forget the hair please, I will begin to uncontrollably sob if you do and blame it on you. I am horribly controlling and manipulative."
"Noted." Sirius pushed the door open, but Tommy didn't budge. Sirius nodded towards the entrance. Tommy blinked.
"Are we just going to have a staring contest?"
Tommy's eyebrows shot upwards. "You really haven't learned the number one rule of rickety old doorways in a house you don't really want to trust but trust a little too much anyways?"
Sirius' face went through all 153 stages of grief. Wilbur had told Tommy there were that many, though he wasn't too sure about the validity of stage 72, 'ceiling fan'. He didn't even know what ceiling fan meant. Maybe it was a super illegal cuss word.
"People stab people in doorways. You get too close to someone, they can just-" he jabbed at Sirius with an invisible knife, "-bam, bam! Shank ya."
"Tommy." Sirius' face was incredulous. "What would I even stab you with? My- my spare pocket lint?"
Tommy waved a lazy hand towards Sirius' coat pocket. "Oh, I dunno, maybe the fucking death stick in your pocket?"
Sirius frowned. "I'll give you that."
Tommy sidled past Sirius anyway but insisted that Sirius be the first to take the stairs. Safety, of course. If he fell, Sirius would be his meat shield. Or maybe his ride down, like a door on a snowy mountain. Drista had told him about more sophisticated versions of the infamous door-cart; sleds. Door-carts were still better.
"Sirius, you are my meat sled down these stairs in the incredibly unlikely event that gravity kicks me in the ass. You should be honoured." Tommy did not speak again until breakfast had finished.
Tommy watched from the table as Tonks' hair went from bubblegum pink to a bright lavender, reminding Tommy of alliums as much as the pink reminded him of Niki. But he liked alliums.
He slid his chair back, having already stacked his dirty plate with the others, and shuffled over to Sirius.
"Soo, big man. Diagon Alley? I've uh...eaten. Already."
"It's a nice walk there- about 4 kilometres, and I believe Tonks could find a Muggle retail store along the way, couldn't you?"
Tonks tilted her head, staring at Sirius. "I could. Or we could take the Floo Network and save us an hour of time."
Tommy glanced between the two, shrugging. "I do too much walking."
Tonks gave Sirius a smug look. "Brilliant. Floo Network it is. Tommy, you're my new favourite person."
A hand landed on his shoulder and Tommy flinched. "Ah, um- thanks." Sirius looked concerned, but Tommy avoided his gaze, eyes instead moving to Tonks, to whom the hand belonged. "Dumbledore told me what the Floo Network was. Something about powder that is not drugs and jumping into fire. The powder acts like fire res, yeah?"
Sirius and Tonks shared an equally confused look. "The Floo powder makes it so the fire doesn't...burn you, if that's what you're asking," Sirius said hesitantly.
Tommy nodded slowly. "Well, yeah...that's what fire res...fire- you guys have potions here, right?" He frowned as Tonks' expression grew even more confused.
Sirius took over. "We have potions, I've just got no clue what a 'fire res' is."
Tommy tilted his head. "Potions of fire resistance. You can hop right in lava and feel like you're takin' a warm bath. Helps lots with the Nether, but you don't know what that is either, do ya."
"Not explaining it," he added after glancing at Tonks.
Sirius inhaled softly; a small gasp. "We have fire protection potions; it's one of the ones you'll have to learn to make."
Tommy raised his eyebrows. "Huh."
Tonks, still clearly lost, blinked a few times and fished a small pouch from her pocket. "Let's just get this over with. We could have walked there by now. Right, so you toss it into the fireplace, boom, say your location real loud and clear, bam, and step right in, bop. Boom, bam, bop. Three Bs, don't mess 'em up. Emphasis on loud and clear on the second B. I'll go first."
She stepped up to the fireplace and opened the pouch, tossing the powder lazily into the fire. The flames shot from blazing orange to vibrant green, crackling loudly, and Tonks cleared her throat before speaking, as she had advised, loud and clear into the flames.
"Diagon Alley."
She then stepped in and was gone, sucked into the flames. Tommy blinked.
"So it's just like the Nether...with a few extra steps. Poggers." He raised his fist to Sirius for a fist bump before turning to the flames, which had now died back to their original red-yellow-orange.
"Um- Tonks left. With the not-drugs."
Sirius sighed, handing Tommy a pocket of his own. "Of course she did. Set it on the ground before you step in. Remember, loud and clear."
Tommy nodded, tossed the green not-drugs into the base of the fire, watched as the green flames sputtered to life, shouted his destination - Diagon Alley - into like the fireplace (and felt like a fucking moron while doing it), placed the pouch on the floor, and stepped into the flames.
Tonks was waiting on the other side, tapping her foot nervously. She nearly jumped as she stepped through, a wide smile splitting her face. "Brilliant. You made it through. We're going to have so much fun together, Tommy."
We're going to have so much fun together, Tommy.
Going to have so much fun.
So much fun, Tommy.
Tommy snapped out of his thoughts, shoving down the emotions that had come boiling up at the unfortunate word choice. Tonks pushed open a door to reveal a dreary-looking bar abuzz with people - wizards - in long, dark robes and the occasional pointed hat.
Tonks led the two in a winding thread around the tables and through the crowd, eventually reaching a door and pushing it open. She turned to Tommy. "Remember this the best you can. So you can visit on your own, or with friends. Will ya?"
Tonks nodded, tapping a brick. "You start from here, the one with the little divot. Looks a little like Sirius' moustache, but you can't tell him I found a brick like that; he'll never stop talking about it. Go 5 up, 4 to the left, and smack it- light, though. No broken fingers, please, Sirius might behead me." She nodded at the wall and stepped back.
Tommy touched the wall, hand gliding across its rough bricks. A light tap was all it needed for the bricks to peel backwards, shuffling away from each other to form an archway. Tommy just stood there, gaping, as Tonks walked through. He'd seen some pretty incredibly redstone; piston doors and music and working robots, but nothing as detailed and magnificent as this.
Tonks reached back and tugged on his hand, pulling him forward into the bustling street. Tommy handed her the rolled-up shopping list and it unravelled as she grabbed it, falling almost past her waist. It was excessive, maybe, but Tommy was expected to catch up on 4 years' worth of spells and potions and trafuckery or whatever Sirius had called it.
The first shop was Madam Malkin's - do you mind robes? - and the inside was sweet relief from the overwhelming flurry of witches and wizards swarming the streets outside. Soft music whirled from somewhere inside the shop and a small line of wizards waited patiently, lounging on couches as a small witch worked in time with a flying tape measure.
She was working with practised ease, pinning and resewing robes on a particularly terrified young wizard. The needle she was holding snapped its thread at a flick of her wand, hovering in the air before she grabbed it between her thumb and pointer finger. Malkin gave the wizard a few encouraging pats on the back and sent him back to his mother.
The line of wizards dwindled away quickly and soon Tommy was being called for, Tonks at his side.
The witch greeted him with a bright smile and Tommy almost felt bad about their height difference. "Why hello, I haven't seen you before. What kind of robes are you looking for?"
Tonks stepped in for Tommy. "Four school robes, and one for travel." Madam Malkin raised her eyebrows, leading the two towards the clothing racks. "Hogwarts?"
"Transfer student; this is my first year. Attending Hogwarts. I'll be in the fifth year," Tommy answered.
The witch looked Tommy up and down, fingers swishing over the rack until she pulled one out, folding it neatly in her arms. "Try this on over your clothes and hold your arms out. Came here early to beat the rush, then?"
Tommy took the robes from her, blinking meekly. "I have a lot to study. I had to come early to get...books and stuff." He let the robe fall and unfold, shaking it once before slipping it on over his shirt. It fell past his ankles, almost dragging on the floor. The sleeves hung a little loose on his thin arms and he became painfully aware of his skinniness as Madam Malkin's eyes raked over his body.
"Have you been eating alright, dear?"
Tommy smiled nervously at that, almost jumping as Tonks' bright laughter cut through the tension. "Oh, you should see him at mealtimes. I've never seen anyone eat so ravenously before." Tommy frowned at that, brushing it off. No one there was like Dream; they wouldn't scold or ridicule or beat him for eating too much. Sirius encouraged his almost rabid consumption of food, and Tommy was just grateful to eat while he could.
He didn't know when he would be stripped of his newfound freedom. He'd just take advantage of it as long as he could; let his future self deal with the consequences of overstepping the invisible boundaries he'd set for himself.
Something wrapped around his arm and he flinched, eyes darting to the feeling. The small tape measure recoiled from his arm and Madam Malkin looked up at him apologetically. "Sorry, dear, didn't mean to give you a fright."
He shook his head gently, holding his arm out higher. The tape measure did a little flip in the air before it wrapped around his wrist, then elbow, then shoulder, moved to his neck and chest and waist, then his hips, and then shot back into Malkin's palm like an arrow.
"Alright, just a few adjustments. Hold still a minute."
She worked swiftly and Tommy's arms had hardly begun to ache before she was done. Madam Malkin removed a few pins and patted Tommy on the back, nodding to herself. "Now that the needles have been taught, they'll prepare three more school robes, but I still need to adjust your travelling robes."
Tommy followed the same pattern: try on new robes, wince at his skinniness, hold really really still- and Madam Malkin struck up a conversation with him. "So, dear, what house do you reckon you'll be sorted into?"
Tommy's eyes lit up. "Dumbledore told me about those. I haven't got the slightest clue what house I'll be."
"That's alright, dear. I really didn't have the faintest clue what house I'd be in, but I ended up in Hufflepuff. I met some of the loveliest people there. Some of the most talented, too. Hogwarts really is wonderful, dear. I'm sure you'll love it there."
The tips of Tommy's ears grew hot. He wanted to cry and scream and hug this woman talking so, so kindly like she really cared about him, like Puffy did. He just blinked and replied, "Thanks, ma'am. I'm a little nervous, honestly- so I appreciate it."
His ears grew warmer as she offered his shoulder a gentle pat. Madam Malkin handed the finished robes off to Tonks in neat folded piles and she tucked them under her arms, nodding to Tommy. "Well, you take care. I added a hat and gloves in there as well, Hogwarts does require them. That'll be 30 galleons and 7 sickles, dear."
Tonks smiled and thanked her, pulling a bag out of her robe pocket and handing it to Madam Malkin. It clinked as it moved. He had no clue what galleons were. He didn't even know if sickle was a real word. Tommy thanked Madam Malkin again and the two were outside again, weaving through the bustling crowd.
Tonks slowed as they approached a shop, Magical Menagerie, and Tommy could see cages behind the tinted window. Tonks pulled open the doors and Tommy was hit with a flurry of shrieks and squawks and a nearly rotten smell as the doors closed behind them. Creatures in spacious cages lined the walls, eating food, shapeshifting- literally shapeshifting, screeching at each other, fighting, sleeping, singing; and Tommy looked around with wide eyes before finally turning to face Tonks.
"Yeah, it's a lot, innit? Smells terrible, too. Pets are optional in Hogwarts, but I recommend one- an owl, a cat, or a toad. Your choice." Tommy looked around nervously before his eyes landed on one sign below a cage, holding one word that made Tommy's heart skip a beat. Moth.
It was gorgeous, just as Drista had described it. Its body was a golden off-white, intricate detailing sprawled across its four wings, shimmering black with a tinge of green as the light hit its wings. He stood there, staring, lips slightly parted, one word running through his mind. Clementine.
He almost felt the heat of the Nether on his skin, remembering Quackity and the feel of cobblestone in his hands. "I want a moth, and I want one now. I want a pet moth, and I wanna name it...Clementine."
Tonks turned to him, noticing the wide-eyed expression on his face. "Other pets are often...overlooked, as long as they're small enough," she said with a sly smile.
Tommy's eyes somehow widened further and he barely stopped himself from screaming, instead turning to her with a huge grin painted across his face. "Really?" He whispered loudly, and Tonks nodded, smiling warmly.
"I'm going to name it Clementine," he breathed. Tommy could hardly contain his excitement as a worker came over and took the box down, eyes locked on the moth as Tonks handed over more of those strange circles that clinked. He took the box delicately into his arms and wrapped them around it, letting out a soft coo as Clementine's feelers raised toward him.
"She's a girl," Tonks said, showing Tommy a small booklet before tucking it into the folds of his travelling robes. "Everything you need to know about her is in here."
"Thank you," Tommy replied, finally tearing his eyes from the moth. "I love her."
Quackity had just laughed gently and patted his back. No one doubted the things Drista said or the stories she told, but everyone knew the things she spoke of were entirely inaccessible. So no one got their hopes up, often dismissing the young god when she discovered something new - respectfully, of course. Tommy was one of the few who stayed and listened, despite knowing nothing she described would ever reach their small world.
He clutched the box protectively as the two left the store, watching his surroundings as if he were invading a bastion. The next shop they stopped at looked as if it had been built at the beginning of time. It wasn't falling apart or rusting or covered in cobwebs, it was just...old.
Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wand since 382 B.C.
Tommy didn't know what B.C. was. Some kind of abbreviation, perhaps, but he still didn't know. Tonks either knew or didn't care, because she walked into the shop without a second glance. There were a lot of new, strange things in this world, so Tommy wouldn't put it past her.
"Tonks, what's a B.C.?" Tommy asked nervously, following her like a baby animal into the shop. She laughed quietly, smile faltering as she realized he was dead serious. "It's a measurement of time, Tommy."
An old man with very, very bright silvery eyes poked his head around a shelf. The shop was strange, to say the least, but 'strange' didn't do it much justice. Rows upon rows upon rows of boxes - small, thin, long boxes were piled on the shelves high enough to touch the ceiling. The man nodded. "Welcome back, Tonks."
She nodded back. "Good to see you again, Ollivander. I need a wand for him." She pushed Tommy forward gently and he waved awkwardly, still holding Clementine's box as if his life depended on it. A tape measure flew from behind the counter and began measuring nearly every part of his body - even behind his ears - as Ollivander stared at him, and it felt like his eyes were boring into Tommy's very being. He grew increasingly uncomfortable.
Ollivander made a small noise and folded his arms, still staring at Tommy. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded his head slowly and the tape measure crumpled to the floor. He turned around, pulling a box from the shelf directly behind him.
He opened the box and gently pulled out a beautifully made wand, holding the larger end toward Tommy. "Maple wood with a dragon core, 13 ¼" and supple flexibility. Try it out." Tommy placed Clementine's box on the ground and had barely touched the wand before Ollivander snatched it back, shaking his head.
Tommy blinked back his confusion as Ollivander put the wand back, disappearing behind the first shelf and returning with another box. "Redwood with a unicorn core, 13 1/2" and supple flexibility." He seemed more resolved handing Tommy this wand, and didn't take it back immediately like he had the other one.
Tommy almost began to sweat as Ollivander stared at him, awkwardly waving the wand around after a moment. Golden light sprouted from the wand and he watched in horror as Clementine's box lifted into the air, levitating higher and higher as his heart rate sped up. He didn't dare let go of the wand until the box was where he could grab it safely. He latched his arms around the box and put down the wand as quickly as he could without being rough with it.
"Tonks, take Clementine," he said shakily, handing off the box to her. "I am never touching that wand again. I think I saw my entire life flash before my eyes."
Ollivander just smiled at him, putting the wand back in its box. "It chose you," he replied simply.
"By trying to kill my moth..?" Tommy asked, bewildered.
Ollivander shrugged. "I do not choose how the wand behaves; all I know is it chose you. The wand chooses the wizard, never the other way around."
Tommy made a face at the man, glancing at Tonks. "Is it really gonna do that every time I touch it? Your wands don't-"
"No, Tommy," Tonks reassured, offering him a gentle smile. "It only happens when it first chooses you."
"Oh." Tommy's face flushed and he thanked Ollivander, grabbing the wand. Again, Tonks interrupted the exchange by handing Ollivander a few of the shiny circles and the two were off, Tommy taking Clementine's box and the robes from Tonks in exchange for the wand and the small bag Sirius had given him. He vowed to never bring Clementine within 3 meters of it.
She had him wait on a bench between two shops, Potage's Cauldron Shop and Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment. He tapped Clementine's box with his nails, smiling brightly as she waved her feelers up at him. He waved back, swinging his legs.
The bench shook and he looked up to see Tonks standing over a greyish cauldron - finally, something he recognized - and a few things tucked inside its circular body. They shined as if they were new, and unease grew in Tommy's stomach. He'd have to pay her back...for all of this.
She smiled at him with her hands on her hips, sighing quietly. "Just two more stops." Tonks packed the robes into the cauldron, picking it up again with a quiet grunt. "Flourish and Blotts for a few books, first." The inside of the shop was bustling with customers, a few workers flitting around the bookshelves and helping busy witches and wizards. Tonks set the cauldron down on a seat, pulling Sirius' list out of her pocket.
She muttered to herself and sat down, digging around in her robes until she found her wand. "You can look around the shop if you'd like. Sirius didn't think to remove the ones he already has."
Tommy nodded brightly and put down Clementine's cage, wandering off into the shop. Some of the books floated from shelf to shelf, reorganizing themselves into large sections. He saw a few books bound to the wall or trapped in cages, pages beating madly against the bars. One set of books was purring.
He found his way upstairs and leaned against the balcony, watching customers mill around the shop below him. Tonks was still hunched over the list, wand tip going bright as she scratched out a few more lines. He took a deep breath, blinking a few times.
Something rustled to his left and he turned to see another wizard, a younger boy, also leaning over the balcony. Everything in this world was so confusing. Dumbledore had given him so much to think about in his spare time he almost wanted to cry at the thought of it.
As it always did, his mind found its way back to Dream. He tensed and removed his arms from the balcony, carefully walking back down the stairs to Tonks. She looked up as he neared and he exhaled quietly, grateful to distract his mind from him.
She looked back down at the paper and nodded. "There's just a few books- and I have a question for you. Good timing. You have to choose an area of study for fourth year, at least two. Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, Muggle Studies, and Study of Ancient Runes."
Tommy blinked back his surprise, shifting his weight as he considered the options. "Well, Care of Magical Creatures sounds...okay, and- what's Arithmancy?"
"Numbers," Tonks replied, poorly-veiled disgust present in her voice. "Somehow, the professors that teach it make words into numbers. Don't ask me how."
Tommy didn't think that one sounded nice, and Muggle Studies was bound to be boring. He knew all about muggles. "Study of...Ancient Runes?" he asked nervously, shifting his weight again. "What's that?"
"Weird wiggly symbols." She shrugged. At his silence, she sighed and furrowed her eyebrows, clearly trying to dig something up from the back of her mind. "You decipher...ancient texts."
He considered it for a moment. "What's...Divination?"
Tonks grimaced, wiggling her fingers. "Seeing the....future." She drew out the 'u' and frowned gently. "The teacher's...something."
"Study of Ancient Runes, then." He had plenty of experience with deciphering...'weird wiggly symbols' from enchanting, and he didn't think it would be much harder. Tonks seemed to have the most neutral reaction to this class, and he trusted her. Opinions. He trusted her opinions. He didn't trust her.
Tonks folded her arms. "Right, we'll have to come back here when fifth-year lists come out." Tommy peeked over at the paper and his eyes widened when he saw the results of Tonks' thinning - a whole six books remaining out of what looked to be twenty before.
"That one-" Tommy pointed to the first entry, "why are we buying five grades of The Standard Book of Spells if fifth year's list hasn't come out yet?"
"Miranda Goshawk isn't going anywhere," Tonks deadpanned, beginning to fold back the list of books. "You wait here. I'll be back."
She returned ten minutes later with two small fabric bags of books, placing them down on the floor. "One last stop, then we leave. Finally.”
Tommy stayed close behind her as they left the shop. This area of Diagon Alley was much more packed than the entrance, and he clutched Clementine closer to his chest after a witch bumped into him, muttering a rushed apology.
The crowd thinned out a little and Tommy almost ran into Tonks as she stopped abruptly. Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, the sign read.
Tommy blinked. "Huh?"
"A little treat after all that shopping- I love it, truly, but it's always exhausting unless it's clothes or...something of the like."
Tommy shifted his weight nervously, stepping to the side for a wizard as he squeezed past the two. "No, what's ice cream?"
Tonks turned around slowly, lips slightly parted. She looked mortified. "Surely you're joking."
"I- ah...sorry, no. I haven't seen most of the stuff here before. I didn't even know moths were real until today." He glanced down at Clementine, who was sleeping, wings splayed across the soft cushion of her cage.
"It's..." Tonks sighed. "It's frozen milk or cream and sugar, plus some kind of plant or candy...anything that tastes like something, really. Lot of flavours you can choose from here."
Tommy tilted his head. "I think Drista mentioned something like that. Snow- no...shaved ice. I think. It's like...you get a block of ice and sort of scratch it with a blade or something, then you pour fruit juice over the shavings. Sweet berries taste the best."
Tonks nodded. "I've had shaved ice before. Ice cream is...sort of similar, but it tastes a lot different."
Tommy shrugged. "Can't be worse than rott-" He stopped himself, glancing down at Clementine again. Everyone knew and, understandably, despised rotten flesh, but he'd had his fair serving of it during exile. Sirius, however, had seemed extremely uncomfortable when all he'd seen were Tommy's scars.
He decided it would be best to leave the comparison untouched. "Never mind. Sorry. What's...your favourite flavour? I'll take that one."
She smiled. "For starters, I think you should try vanilla. Go from there."
"What's vanilla?" Tommy asked, following her as she began to walk into the store. Tonks blinked at him, confusion dappling her eyes. "It's...damn, Tommy. Where did you live before this- vanilla's the...base flavour for everything. Some people call it plain, but plain is different from vanilla. Whoever invented vanilla was absolutely brilliant and deserves a medal."
Tommy put his hands on his hips. "Pog." Tonks ordered and passed over more of those shiny circles, leading him to a seat outside. The thing she offered him was weird. He held onto some kind of bread cone with small indents copy-pasted all across its surface, but that wasn't the ice cream part.
The ice cream was a dome-shaped scoop - white with small black flecks peppered across the surface. The dome tapered off into a sort of flat disc at the bottom, resting on top of another scoop which was nestled deep inside the bread. Tommy opened his mouth and shut it quickly, feeling quite stupid. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with the cold domes.
"Lick it. That's the best way; it melts slowly outside. You enjoy it a whole lot better- and it lasts longer."
Tommy did as he was told, not tasting anything at first. It took a few licks for the ice cream to warm up and begin melting, but once it did- he paused, blinking at the weird cold domes. He could taste the milk and a little sugar, but it was better than anything he'd ever had. Any cold thing he'd ever had. Even the shaved ice wasn't nearly as good.
Something about the mixture of dairy and cold, sweet goodness and whatever that third flavour was - it had to be vanilla - made him want to grab the whole dome and bite through it as if it were a melon. Tonks had warned him not to, and he didn't want to get on her bad side. "Shit," he whispered, staring at the ice cream and taking another, albeit small, taste. "Shit. That's good."
Tonks smiled warmly at him, slowly eating her own ice cream. It was a pale green with small chunks of something brown - he almost wanted to say it was chocolate, but chocolate was far too rare - sticking out of its surface. "Spin it a little as you go, Tommy, you don't want one side dripping."
He followed her instructions, slowly spinning the ice cream with each lick. She smiled at him and he gave her a small smile back, ears heating up.
He knew this was only temporary, but he really wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.
Tommy climbed the stairs in front of Sirius, carrying Clementine's box and his clothes - Tonks had forgotten the retail store, but Tommy hadn't. Everything about this went against his little set of rules - allowing other people to walk behind him was stupid in every way - but it was Clementine. He thought he'd maybe give his life for Clementine.
Sirius had the books and a small trunk, and Tonks was behind the two with the cauldron and other things she'd bought in the stores Tommy hadn't gone in.
Clementine was placed in the middle of a spare desk, tucked firmly against the wall. The little sunlight that reached her was dingy, but she seemed not to mind. His clothes went on top of his bed, thrown haphazardly onto its surface. Just how he liked it.
Like five different tornadoes and a hurricane had swept through the room at once.
Tommy left his room in a state of organized destruction, hardly bothering to glance at the full panorama of the room before he shut the door.
"So. Dinner?"