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“You never told me ghosts are real,” Tom accused Harry. His bright brown eyes stared up at him and Harry couldn’t help but think of how cute he looked, even when annoyed.
“There’s a lot I haven’t told you about the wizarding world,” Harry defended. He’d had a lot on his plate after being tossed back into the nineteen-fifties with the world’s most useless snake. Said snake then led a young Tom Riddle right into Harry’s home and for some unknown reason, Tom declared himself Harry’s apprentice.
“If you are not going to inform me of the world, then you should at least allow me to conduct my own research,” Tom said, crossing his arms and jutting his chin out as if daring Harry to defy him.
“I told you, you need more training before you’re ready for the books I have here.”
“What about books on history and culture? It requires no magical skill to study those.”
Harry hesitated. He did have history books with him, but they all were from the future. Perhaps a trip to Diagon Alley was required.
“Get your shoes,” he told the kid.
“Why?”
“We’re going to London’s magical neighborhood to buy you some supplies.”
Tom practically flew up the stairs to the room that Harry was letting him stay in. Harry had been buying things for Tom, mostly muggle clothes, sheets and blankets for his bed, and new shoes. It was kind of nice, having someone else in the house. Since arriving, Harry had been alone. Alone barring Aureus, of course.
Tom came flying down the stairs and stood by the door, bouncing on the soles of his feet. Harry extinguished the fire he had been burning with a flick of his wand, then they were off.
Tom was too old to hold anyone’s hand, and Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to walk around holding the hand of his sworn enemy, but they stayed close to each other, even as they dodged the crowds of muggles going about their day.
“Where is this neighborhood?” Tom finally asked.
“Hidden behind a pub on Charing Cross Road.”
“Behind a pub? Is it even possible to hide a neighborhood behind a pub?”
“First lesson of magic,” Harry said. “Nothing is impossible.”
“I thought the first lesson was to keep magic a secret.”
“That’s the first rule of magic,” Harry explained. “The first lesson for magic is that magic doesn’t always follow logic. If you try to follow all the rules that were set out before you, then you’ll limit yourself and your abilities.” Tom gave a very serious nod, no doubt internalizing the words. Was Harry giving advice that would help make Voldemort more powerful or would it help prevent Voldemort from rising to begin with?
“Can ghosts do magic?” Tom asked.
“No. Well, most ghosts can’t,” Harry corrected himself. “Normal ghosts cannot interact with our world. Poltergeists can.”
He watched out of the corner of his eye as Tom mouthed the word “poltergeist”.
They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and Tom pressed closer to Harry, even as he looked around with wide eyes at the people dressed in wizarding garb, eating and drinking. It was a weekday, so it was rather quiet, which was probably a good thing. Harry wanted to keep Tom from feeling too overwhelmed.
No one paid them any mind as they went to the back of the building. Harry made a show of pulling his wand out and counting the bricks, tapping the right one and then stepping back so Tom could watch as they shifted, revealing Diagon Alley.
The boy’s mouth dropped open, shock and awe painted on his face. Harry couldn’t help but smile as he gently laid a hand on Tom’s shoulder and steered them forward.
“We might as well get you some robes,” Harry mused. “And books, of course. I don’t think they’ll sell you a wand yet. You’re still a little young.”
“Can’t we just steal one?” Tom asked.
Harry frowned at him. “You can’t just steal a wand. It wouldn’t work for you. The wand chooses the wizard. It took me ages to find my wand.”
“Because it’s special?” Tom immediately asked.
Harry ran his fingers along the wood. He’d repaired it with the Elder Wand and ever since had spent more time polishing it and investing in wand holsters.
“Yes. It’s special.”
He didn’t want to explain that he knew exactly what wand would work for Tom. He didn’t want to explain that their wands would share the same core, acting as brother wands. He didn’t want to describe what would happen if they ever tried to duel each other.
Instead, they stopped by the stationary store, picking up scrolls, quills, and ink. Harry briefly explained the money system to Tom, brushing off Tom’s questions about banks and instead told him that he didn’t want a paper trail. Tom accepted this, because the shadier Harry acted, the more convinced Tom was that Harry was worth following.
They stopped by Madam Malkins and got Tom fitted for some plain, black robes that could work for wizarding events, and then they arrived at Flourish and Blotts. Harry turned to Tom as soon as they walked in the store.
“I’ll pick out what I think would be most beneficial to your education, but you may pick out one book of your own,” he informed the boy. A smile pulled at Tom’s lips. He had been greatly enjoying the day so far, absolutely basking in the attention Harry had given him, the compliments he’d been paid while getting fitted, and the new objects he had acquired. A chance to pick out his own book was just the cherry on top.
Tom wandered deep into the shop and Harry pulled some introductory books for the history of magic. He noticed a small section, barely three shelves, marked “International Wizarding Communities” and decided to load up on books from other countries as well, with the hopes that Tom would grow up with a less narrow minded world view.
He met Tom by the magical creatures section, flipping through an encyclopedia.
“Did you pick out a book?” Harry asked.
“I suppose. Are you certain I can’t get a spell book?” Tom turned his pleading eyes towards Harry, who held firm.
“Next year. I promise.”
Tom sighed, but picked up Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He made to clutch it to his chest, but Harry held out his hand so he could add the book to his own pile to pay for.
“What’s with the interest in magical creatures?” Harry asked, as they waited in line. Tom shrugged, but then sent him a nervous look.
“Is it wrong to be interested in them?”
“No, of course not. I’m just surprised. You were very intrigued by ghosts as well.”
Tom was quiet for a moment before admitting in a small voice, “Maybe there is something to be gained from learning about them.”
“Like what?”
“Well, they live forever, don’t they?”
Harry contemplated the young boy, who was barely ten years old and already so scared of death.
“Ghosts by nature are not alive. And their existence is not something to envy. They are unable to grow, to change. They only stick around because they are scared of what is beyond.”
“Are you scared?” Tom asked.
“Of course not,” Harry said, and to his surprise, he found that it was true. He hadn’t been scared to die since the Forbidden Forest. “There are much worse things than death.”