Of Monsters, Of Men

Chapter 5

August 23, 1938

On August 23rd, Harry and Tom received a visitor.

Harry and Tom were both reading in their respective bunks when two knocks on their door disturbed their tranquil silence, filled only with the occasional page turn. Mrs. Cole entered, along with an auburn-haired bearded man wearing a plum velvet suit.

Harry stared at the visitor, perplexed at why this strangely-dressed man entered their room. He put his book down and chanced a glance at Tom, who minutely shook his head. Damn it. Neither of them knew who this man was. More importantly, neither of them knew why he was here.

"Tom, Harry, you two have got a visitor. This is Mr. Dumberton—sorry, Dunderbore. He's come to tell you both—well, I'll let him do it," she stuttered.

Harry climbed down to sit in the desk chair, bookmarking his page. He placed the book on the desk.

"How do you do, Tom, Harry?" said Dunderbore, walking forward and holding out his hand.

Harry and Tom looked at each other again, hesitating over what was the best course of action. Tom stood up from his bunk and shook hands with Dumbledore. Harry did the same. He already disliked Dunderbore. This strange man with his strange suits and hair and manner.

Dunderbore drew up the hard wooden chair from the second desk and sat near the two, eyes flicking between them.

"I am Professor Dumbledore."

Harry hesitated, choosing to let Tom lead the conversation. Whatever a "professor" was, he did not like it.

"'Professor'?" Harry repeated. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for?"

"I am here to—"

Tom butted in, "Did she get you in to have a look at us?"

Tom pointed at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left.

"No, no," said 'Dumbledore', smiling.

Tom narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you," he said. "She wants us looked at, doesn't she? Tell us the truth."

Dumbledore didn't say anything, only continuing to smile pleasantly.

He should have said something already, thought Harry. Tom's special power had never failed on anyone before, even adults.

Tendrils of fear and indignance curdled his gut. Tom was similarly shocked, as his eyes had widened to the size of large saucers, glaring at Dumbledore.

"Who are you?" Harry interrupted, ending their staring contest.

"As I told you before, my name is Professor Dumbledore. I have come to offer you both a place at my school—Hogwarts," Dumbledore addressed.

As Harry asked, "What is the school for?", Tom's face screwed into a scowl, his hands clenching in agitation. Harry grabbed at his sleeves in an attempt to ground him, knowing with a single sideways glance that Tom was ready to attack. They were both shaken from Dumbledore's immunity to the Special Power.

Dumbledore, noticing Tom's intensely hostile look, studied them pensively before humming and continuing, "Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you—"

When Tom's eyes narrowed further, Harry gripped Tom's sleeves harder, bunching the material in his fist and glaring at him. He grabbed his forearm, his own special nonverbal warning to say shut up, or else. Tom's scowl deepened, but he remained still. Harry took a deep breath and looked back at the professor.