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The Long Way Home	By : Amiastine Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1297 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Long Way Home
- 1
A/N:
I've had this delightfully exciting idea (well I like it anyway) for some time
now and after reading a lot of fanfics on internet over the past few days, I
finally decided to type it up. The prologue is from Mr. Olivander's point of
view, but the rest will either be Hermione's or Tom's pov�we'll see. The 'R'
scenes will come in a few chapters' time, if you can bear with me 'till then. Hope
you like it!!

Disclaimer:
Ha! I wish�but nope, it�s not going to happen. This very admirable and talented
lady named Joanne owns them all. The title and song are from Norah Jones�s album
Feels Like Home.

Well I stumbled in the
darkness

Lost and alone

Know I said I�d go
before us

Show the way back home

There�s a light up ahead

I can�t hold on very
long

Forgive me pretty baby

But I always take the
long way home

The
Long Way Home

Prologue

It
was a rainy day, not the kind you usually get in August. The sky was a menacing
grey and water was falling down on the cobblestone streets in cool sheets.
Diagon Alley was quite deserted and I wasn�t expecting any customers. My cat, Jinx,
lay purring on my lap while I sat behind the counter, reading a large book on
wand making. Occasionally, people ran by, sheltering under umbrellas and hats,
none of them stopping. It was already five in the afternoon and I had sold not
a single wand. The alley was set to close and my mind was on that piece of cold
chicken sitting at the back of the larder, waiting to be put into a tasty
sandwich.

Just
as I was turning the sign on the door to close the shop, I saw this small
figure standing outside in the rain, staring at me through the thick glass
pane. It didn�t seem to be wearing a cloak or any sort of protection against
the bad weather, and looked as though it was waiting for something. Curious, I
opened the door, to find myself face to face with a young boy of about eleven years old. His black hair
was plastered to his head with rain and his dark eyes had a sunken, weary look
in them. Stepping aside so as to let him in, I looked around but saw no one
else wanting to come out of the rain. By the time I'd shut the door and turned
around, the small boy had disappeared out of sight.

"Wait
there a moment, Laddie! I've got to get you measured up first. Why don't you
tell me your name?"

Searching
frantically through the isles, I found him at the bottom of one, opening box
after box, glancing at my precious wands and unceremoniously discarding them in
a heap beside him.

"No!
Wait! It doesn't work like that�come here."

Seemingly
startled, the boy stood up quickly and turned towards me, stuttering:

"Sorry,
I didn't mean to be rude, but I have to be back at the orphanage by six o'clock.
I need�a wand. They wouldn't let me come at first, so I don't even want to
imagine what will happen if I go back without one�"

"That's
alright, but there's no need to make such a mess. Come with me and we'll sort
you out. It should only take a few minutes," I replied with kindness, despite
my frustration at having to delay my supper any further.

Putting
a comforting hand on his shoulder, I led him back to the front of the shop and
told him to take a seat, which he did tentatively as though he feared the chair
might bite him. Having summoned my magical measuring tape, I quickly cast a
drying charm over the boy, for which he seemed grateful, if slightly stunned by
the sudden change. 'He must be a Muggleborn,' I thought, deeply annoyed with
myself. I was usually able to foretell, with my extensive knowledge of the
wizard inhabitants of Great Britain and the list of new students provided by
Armando Dippet before the start of each school year, who exactly was to enter
my shop and make a decisive purchase. However, this one seemed to have slipped
through the count somehow.

"So,
what's your name? I trust you're bound for Hogwarts in September?" I asked
lightly, as the tape measure fluttered around the frail figure, while next to
it a quill took notes on a scrap piece of parchment.

"My�
my name is Tom Riddle. I'm going to Hogwarts, yes. Well I hope I am�" he
answered, still shivering despite no longer being drenched.

Realising
this, I left his side to go make a pot of tea. It would do us both a lot of
good, I decided. Stroking Jinx who had curled up in front of the hearth, I
busied myself with putting some water to boil, while asking distractedly:

"What
do you mean, you hope?"

Out
of the corner of my eye, I saw him shift uncomfortably. 'He's a queer one, he
is. Wonder what happened to his parents� probably died fighting Grindelwald, bless
their souls�' Plucking two mugs out of a cupboard, I slipped a bundle of
tealeaves with soothing properties I had recently purchased from the
apothecary. Despite having placed me in charge of his shop a good five years
ago, my old man still seemed to go into such fits of worry whenever certain
customers were due to arrive. I kept telling him over and over again I was in
charge and would never willingly sell a wand to a well-known dark wizard� but
then business is business, what want you. Most of the time I just sold, no
questions asked either way. Lost in my thoughts, I had almost forgotten the boy
when he uttered a timid reply:

"Well
they said they wouldn't let me go, if I didn't behave�which I do, all the time,
but I get blamed anyway."

Realizing
something was really wrong with the kid, I filled our mugs and walked over to
him, handing him the hot drink. Hesitant to touch it at first, Tom nonetheless clasped
it between his hands without actually taking a sip, seeming to enjoy the
comforting warmth.

"I
haven't poisoned it, if that's what you're afraid of."

"No!
No� I mean, thank you. It's very kind of you."

Gulping
down some of the scalding tea, I briefly examined the notes the quill had took
and disappeared down one of the isles, picking up boxes along the way, carefully
reading the label on each one before selecting it. When I had a fair amount of
wands for Tom to try, I trudged back to where he sat, now drinking down the tea
as though he'd never tasted anything so good in his life. The look on his face
made me forget about my rumbling stomach and I found myself smiling at him
warmly.

"Who's
'they'?" I asked as I started handing him the various wands, checking for
the usual signs. "And why do they blame you?"

"The
people of the orphanage. I don't do anything wrong, but the older boys do and
they always make it look like I'm the guilty one. Like the time they snuck
downstairs in the middle of the night for a secret feast and when Cook demanded
to search our rooms the next day, she found cake crumbs all over my bed. I
swear I didn't touch it�"

Even
though he had by now drunk most of his tea, I could see he was getting himself
worked up and knew the consequences of a heated temper while trying out for a
wand.

"Calm
down, you'll blow up the shop if you carry on like that. I believe you� those
boys have no right to pick on you. Why don't you talk to the person in charge
of the orphanage about it?"

Waving
the wand he was holding, Tom looked slightly desperate, if a little less
distraught. 'The tea's having an effect�good.' Eyeing the diminishing pile of unopened
boxes, I went to get some more, now even more precise in my choices. It seemed
important to me, now I knew the boy a bit better, that he get a good wand.

"I
can't. The headmistress doesn't like me, you see� she says she's only keeping
me out of charity, because I have no family to pay for my tuition. Nearly all
the others have got an uncle or a distant cousin who gives a bit of money� She
was the one who told me I'm a wizard, a few weeks ago� at first she seemed to
think it was all some kind of joke at her expense, but when she tried to beat
me, the cane kept flying out of her hands. Things like that have happened
before, but I never imagined I was making them happen."

Feeling
slightly put off by the lack of success concerning the finding of a suitable
wand, I couldn't help but be captivated by the boy's tale. Having come from a
pureblood wizarding family, I had known all my life about cauldrons and spells
and broomsticks. Hard as it was to imagine, I could sort of picture the sense
of amazement one would feel upon discovering that a totally different, magical
world existed out there.

"Well,
aren't you happy to be a wizard and to go to Hogwarts? You'll be able to leave
the orphanage, at least until next summer�"

"Not
really," Tom replied, startling me. "I should be, I know, but now the
headmistress thinks I'm a freak, as well as a burden. She makes me work twice
as hard as the other children, so I can pay for my supplies, and she threatens
to throw me out if I do magic in front of her. She says she never should have
accepted me without any background on my family, but I sure can't give her any.
I don't know who my parents were, apart from their names. Tom Riddle and Selladona
Slytherin. They weren't even married, though apparently she wanted me to have his full name."

I
was gathering my third stack of wands when he said that last name. Selladona
Slytherin. The last name certainly rang a bell, the House sharing it being rival
to mine when I had attended Hogwarts. But Selladona? I had no idea who she
might be. Suddenly, the prospect of having the heir of Slytherin himself in my
shop filled me with both dread and delight. I instantly knew I had been looking
in the wrong place. Pausing behind the counter to look in my father's old register
(which I now used), I quickly leafed back some twenty years ago, figuring Tom's
mother couldn't be that old if she'd had a child out of wedlock. Sure enough, a
Selladona Slytherin, child of Baleus and Garnelia Slytherin, was listed as
having purchased a wand during the summer of 1917. Ecstatic, I turned to Tom,
who was eyeing the clock on the wall with apprehension. Forgetful of the fact
that I had promised he would make his curfew, I joyfully announced:

"Here
she is, boy. Right here, starting Hogwarts in '17� Few years before me, but I
wouldn't be surprised if she was a prefect while in my First Year� the name
seems familiar now I can place it."

Instead
of getting all enthusiastic, Tom just sat there, staring at me with his sunken
eyes. 'He certainly need lightening up a bit� hope he gets a decent bunch of
friends up at Hogwarts. There's Marius Diggory's boy starting this year, he should be
quite a laugh.'

"Does
it say anything about my father?"

Obligingly,
though with considerably less enthusiasm, I flipped once again through the
register.

"No,
sorry. Absolutely no sign of anyone named Riddle. But matches between wizards
and Muggles get made all the time, though folks generally like to keep it a
secret. Now�"

Figuring
I should get on with finding him a wand, I hastily moved to the back of the
shop, returning a few seconds later with a thin case wrapped in red velvet.

"Here
you go, try this! Yew, 13 "1/2, phoenix feather. Only one other like it. If
this one doesn't work, well I really don't know�"

I
did not need to finish the sentence. As soon as Tom had wrapped his thin, bony
fingers around the wand, a shower of green and silver stars shot out of the end
of it, disturbing Jinx who fled from the room with a hiss.

"Aha!
Thought so. Well there you go�"

Looking
at the price on the bottom of the box, I faltered. It was an expensive wand,
even for someone who had enough money. I doubted Tom's headmistress had any
idea of the cost of magical items and had paid him miserable wages, intending
him to get something cheap, maybe even second-hand. I would have none of it. 'This
poor little fellow's been through so much�and after all, the wand chooses the
wizard.' With a thought for my old father, who would surely disapprove if he
ever came to know of it (which I promised my self would never happen), I
decided to go against everything he had taught me. Slipping the case inside one
of the shop's drawstring customer bags, I quickly ran into the kitchen, cut two
slices of bread and slipped the cold chicken I had been pining for all
afternoon between them. Wrapping the sandwich in an old newspaper leaf, I deposited
the lot into Tom's arms, ignoring the startled look on his face.

"What?
But I can pay you, I�"

"No,
no! I won't hear of it! You probably need the money for something else. Buy
yourself a pet, they're always handy up at the school. Now you'd best get back,
you've been here almost forty-five minutes! If you want a piece of advice, eat
that sandwich before you get to the orphanage, so they won't blame you for
sneaking food in. And hide your money, if you want to hang onto it."

Placing
my hand on his shoulder, I guided him towards the exit. He had a strange look
on his face, not displeased, but not entirely happy, either. Maybe it was
shame at being shown pity, I shall never know for sure. At the time, I was
too pleased with what I'd done to care much about the boy's actual feelings. My
dearest wish is that the years have only made me wiser since. I watched him
walk away in the receding rain, clutching his new belongings to his chest. My
stomach was protesting rather badly at that point and I now had no other option
than to face the elements for a meal at the Leaky Cauldron, unless I was to
starve, yet I felt contented. Of course, back then, I had no way to know what I
had started�if, indeed, I started it.

A/N:
well, that's it for now (hope so, it's 3 am and I really need some sleep!).
Hope you enjoyed it, feel free to comment in any way�it's always helpful. I don't
know when I'll be able to write the next instalment, but I'll try to as soon as
possible. Also, many thanks to the Lexicon (isn't it great??) for the details
concerning Tom's wand.

Love

Amiastine
- 1
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The Long Way Home