All the Wrong Choices

“What do you want to see?” Tom asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“I want to see the loch,” I breathed excitedly, “the Forbidden Forest, the owlery… oh, the Quidditch Pitch! I've always dreamed of playing Quidditch. The astronomy tower… the moving staircases! The chamber of secrets. The gamekeeper's shack. The inside, of course. Perhaps the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers if there's time–”

“I should have specified.” Tom cut me off, the spark inside of me quickly sizzling out. “This is just a brief tour to keep you quiet about seeing us at the inn. Hold on – did you say the chamber of secrets?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes.” I nodded eagerly.

“No one knows where that is.” Tom huffed. “Or if it even exists.”

“Of course it exists,” I rolled my eyes, “I've read all the books.”

“The chamber is a myth.” Tom said. “It has been a myth for hundreds of years.”

“The greatest deception men suffer is from their own opinions.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, then spoke in annoyance. “Pick two.”

“Two of what?”

“Pick two things off of your annoyingly long list and I'll show you.”

“Oh.” I mumbled. “I suppose the astronomy tower and… the loch.”

Tom stayed true to his word and showed the two of them to me.

“Wow. It's even more beautiful than I had imagined.”

“It's no big deal.” Tom shrugged, standing a ways behind me at the loch.

“What's in there?” I asked, nodding to the large body of water. “I mean, I've read the books. But what's actually in there? What have you seen for yourself?” Tom exhaled slowly, as if he had explained this a million and one times.

“Grindylows. A Giant Squid. Merpeople.”

“I've read about the merpeople!” I exclaimed. Tom jumped at the sudden volume raise in my voice. “You've seen them out here before? Are they friendly?” Tom relaxed and leaned against the trunk of a large tree, crossing his arms again.

“Quite friendly.” He said. “I join them every Wednesday morning for tea.”

“It was an honest question.” I murmured, looking back at the lake. “Is it cold?”

“See for yourself.” Tom said in a bored tone, nodding to the lake. It was cold, of course, it was the dead of winter after all – but it wasn't freezing. I turned to look at Tom with big eyes.

“Can I swim?” Tom answered with a shake of his head.

“No. That wasn't part of the deal.”

“You know, I could still send that owl...” I joked.

“Don't threaten me.” Tom spoke harshly, pushing himself away from the tree trunk. “I've already done enough for you. I showed you the stupid lake and the astronomy tower. You think you're entitled to more but you're not.”

“Entitled?” I asked, my eyebrows raising. Tom hadn't been warm or even very friendly to me at all tonight, but this was an interesting change nonetheless. “What makes you think that I think I'm entitled?”

“You're apparently above everyone else.” Tom spoke.

“What?” I asked, taken aback by his rambling. “How?”

“Mommy and Daddy homeschooling you. Sheltering you from the real world. They won't send you to school because they're afraid of Grindelwald. You don't deserve to have anything happen to you – unlike the other students here.”

“I'm sure your parents would do the same if they were able.” Tom glared at me.

“Do you come from money, Nora?” I didn't answer. “Must be nice.”

“You know, at first I thought you just had slight psychopathic tendencies,” I spoke, all confidence and excitement draining from my voice, “But now I see that you're just a real jerk. I've got to get back to the inn and tend to richy, snobby, entitled girl things. I hope the tour wasn't too much trouble for you.”


“I see Tom was never that nice of a person. Remind me again how you fell in love with him?” Hermione noted, now sitting in the chair across from my bed.

“He was a bit rough around the edges.” I responded, unable to control the small smile that lingered on my face. “But he was a sixteen-year-old boy. At that age, that was expected.”

“I didn't know you were home schooled. How was that?”

“Boring.” I let out a groan at the thought of it. “But, well, Grindelwald was at his worst at that time. I hated my parents for it when I was young, but looking back now, I can't blame them. I was their only child, and they were afraid.”

“That sounds a lot like my parents,” Hermione nodded. “I'm Muggle born, as you may or may not know. My parents always knew I was magical, but when it came time to leave for Hogwarts at age eleven, they nearly put me on house arrest. They said it was dangerous here, and that they wouldn't be able to keep an eye on me. But they got over it – it's who I am.”

“I'd imagine it's tough for Muggle parents.”

“Will you… will you tell me more about your relationship with Tom?” Hermione asked. “I realize that I may be prying, and you don't have to feel obligated to talk to me about it. I just find it fascinating. It's hard to believe that Tom was once normal.”

“As normal as Tom Riddle gets,” I nodded, “What do you want to know?”

“How long did you guys hate each other for?” Hermione smiled, and I returned it.

“Not long.” I said. “He showed up at my aunt's pub three days later.”


I had managed to get through the busiest night of the week without the help of Aunt Rosmerta: Saturday. Saturdays were the day all Hogwarts students were given free reign; most of them came to Hogsmeade and, at one point or another, ended up at the pub. Aunt Rosmerta had some business to tend to in the neighboring village, leaving me alone for the remainder of my shift.

It was nearing closing time and only one table full of students remained – four boys and three girls crammed into a four person booth. They chatted animatedly amongst themselves while I stood behind the counter, leaning against it and flipping through a book. I waited patiently for the students to pay up, though I wanted nothing more than to close up for the night and go home.

The bell jingled on the front door. I inwardly groaned and didn't look up from my book – I didn't want to give the straggler students false hope. “The pub is closed for the night. Sorry.”

The person stood before me at the counter, not bothering with a response. I looked up from my book and, if I was being honest, was quite displeased to meet eyes with Tom. I snapped my book shut and pushed myself off of the counter.

“Still closed.” I spoke, grabbing a broom and busying myself with it.

“I didn't come to drink.” Tom said.

“The kitchen closes at the same time.” I informed him, eyes on the floor.

“Well, I didn't come to eat, either.”

“We don't do gift certificates after eight at night, so…”

“I came to apologize.” Tom murmured. I finally looked up at him.

“For?”

“The other night at the loch. You were right. I was being a jerk.”

“You were.”

“I brought you this.”

“What is it?” I asked, glancing at the object in his hand. It was egg-shaped and about the size of his palm, a misty clear color with green specks all around. I glanced between him and the object. “Did you put a curse on it?”

“It's a mermaid scale.” Tom spoke with a roll of his eyes. “I found it by the lake a few days ago. Merpeople come to the shore every day at dawn – I'm not quite sure why – and I think one of them left this behind. They're quite rare, actually. This one in particular is from a merman, hence the green color. Mermaids have purple specks.”

I ignored his rambling and took the scale from his hands, watching it in awe.

“It's really thick.” I noted, and it was – almost like a crystal.

“For protection.” Tom nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Multiple layers of scales actually make up one scale, so…” I nodded and did a double take at the scale before putting it behind the counter.

“It's nice. Thank you, Tom.”

“I have to get going. Avery and Lestrange are waiting on me.”

“Okay.” I nodded. Tom stood there for a moment before nodding.

“I'll see you later then.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Bye now.”

Within seconds Tom was gone and I was left looking down at the scale and dodging looks from the students at the table before me. I went back to reading my book in an attempt to pass time.

“Excuse me,” I heard a male's voice before me and quickly glanced up, “We're ready to pay now. Table twelve.” I nodded and referred to my notepad before totaling the bill.

“Sixteen sickles, please.” I received the proper amount plus a tip.

“I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Riddle.”

“Riddle?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Tom.” The boy confirmed. “Do you go to Hogwarts? I haven't seen you before.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I'm home schooled.”

“That's interesting. Can I give you a bit of advice, then?”

“Err – sure.” I nodded, giving my full attention to the boy before me.

“I don't know what his intentions are… giving you gifts and everything… I don't think he's even so much as smiled at a girl before, but that's beside the point. Tom Riddle is no good.” I couldn't help but laugh.

“He is a bit of a jerk.” I nodded in agreement.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not like that. Just take my word.”

“Tom and I have no connection.” I assured him. “Thank you, however.”

“What is your name again?”

“Nora Longwood.” I introduced myself.

“Alphard Black. It's nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I don't mean to be rude, Alphard, but I'd like to go home at some point tonight...” Alphard laughed at my words before nodding and pushing himself off of the counter.

“Right. Sorry. Come on then, everyone. Have a goodnight, Miss Longwood.”