The right path

Thirty two

Harry and Tom had taken to escape to the magical world every time they were sent out to muggle London on errands. It had become a routine of sorts, to keep them from being on their toes constantly at the orphanage. Of course, in order to escape they would need to bewitch their caretakers here and there, but it was definitely worth it. More so when Harry convinced Tom to go visit the stores at Diagon Alley so he could scout for the materials he would need if he wanted to create his very own broomstick when they returned to Hogwarts.

Tom had refused to do so for the most part, but even then, he could not avoid being curious for the final product of Potter's ambitious proyect. It was always a treat to see that wonderful mind working, even if the puzzle of the inner workings of the broom were already solved.

The days passed uneventful one after the other, to the point that Harry had gotten used to sleeping in refuges and wouldn't even flinch whenever the air siren would flare. It creeped him out, sure, but he had come to accept that it was part of what he had to endure in this new life path he had taken. And he wouldn't change his choice, given the chance.

The end of July was swiftly coming, signifying the middle mark of their summer holidays soon, and even when both wizards were looking forward to returning to Hogwarts, there was no denying that for maybe the first time in their lives there was no rush to get there. For once, they were content minding their own business far away from the watchful stares that would be always present back in the magical world.

However, change was fastly approaching, taking by surprise the young wizards one rainy morning before their weekly 'errands'. It was, naturally, not common for Mrs. Cole to summon just one of them to her office. And even rarer was the fact that it was not to ask for them to go fetch something from muggle London. No, this time she only needed Harry Potter, without any explanation given.

Harry, wary, and expecting to be punished for something another kid blamed him for, resigned himself easily. The matron would probably just reprimand him, send him to his shared room without breakfast, and have him do the laundry again. Nothing he wasn't used to, after all those years living with the Dursleys.

However, as he arrived solemnly to Mrs. Cole's office he couldn't quite fight his confusion. There, sitting across the strict matron's desk was a couple. The woman, whose kind brown eyes were so familiar yet so foreign to him, was smiling broadly at him. Beside her was the man. He was so similar to what James, his future self, looked like it was almost scary. What gave away who they were to him was probably the hair of said man. It was just as messy as his, although a shade lighter, but it was the Potter's trademark hair nonetheless. These were his grandparents.

How he was so sure of that fact, Harry didn't know, nor did he want to reflect on it, given the state of shock he was in. Even James was silent in his mindscape, and Harry wondered if this was also the first time his future self was meeting them. He supposed it was.

For the next half an hour or so, Harry sat there, barely registering what was being explained to him by Mrs. Cole. The only thing that stuck to mind was the fact that he had a family. And said family wanted him, as their own child. That was such a foreign concept for Harry, he needed some time to process.

Rationally, he knew this was a possibility. James had told him about it. About how their grandparents were in contact with Headmaster Dippet ever since they found out about the mysterious Potter boy that appeared out of nowhere, and how they had tried to convince the ministry to let them step in as his magical guardian. Yet, a part of him had always been warded. Harry could not afford to hope for it to be true, not when there was a possibility that it wasn't.

But right now, right there, they were at the orphanage. Wanting Harry to go with them, to be a family. And Harry so desperately wanted to go, and for once do something for his sake, not minding others. But a part of him refrained, because there was still Tom. Tom Riddle, who had the potential to become the greatest Dark Lord the world had seen. Tom Riddle, who as of now was his friend. The boy he admired, and that he cared for. Harry could not bear the thought of abandoning him, not when he had started to break the shell that surrounded him, not when he was hoping Tom would be more than a friend to him. Harry could not leave without Tom, even when his mind screamed at him to be selfish for once, or else the opportunity would vanish.

The Potters could almost sense the internal turmoil that was raging in Harry's mind. They could tell he was not listening to the matron, obviously lost in thoughts. They could understand that. It was not every day that you get to meet a part of your family you didn't know about. But they had faith, and they were patient persons. They would get to know Harry, and they would welcome him as their son, when the time came. After that, they had their entire life to love each other, they were sure of it. Because in this small world, the most powerful force was love, or so they believed.

The matron, exasperated with the Potter boy's attitude, simply left the room so the couple could get some time with the boy. She felt conflicted with the issue of his adoption. On one hand, she was terrified of what that awful Riddle boy would do after his departure, but on the other, she was relieved the freaky Potter boy would leave. That would mean one less mouth to feed, one less soul to take care of, and one less freak in her orphanage. Time would only tell whether the outcome would be beneficial or not. So, closing the door to her office, she left down the corridor to assign the chores of the day.

Engrossed in her thoughts as she was, she failed to notice the lone figure of Tom Riddle just outside her office, clearly eavesdropping on the happenings inside. If she had noticed though, she could have seen the mixture of anger and hurt displayed in the usually neutral face of said boy.

And in the inside of that office, the echo of a lone question reverberated. And Tom's heart stopped for a while  and his breath hitched.

"Would you consider moving in with us, Harry?"

With every passing second Tom felt like cursing anything and everything in sight. Because they were taking away his Potter. And he would stay in that hell hole of an orphanage. What a fool he had been in believing that someone finally understood him, that he now had someone who cared. His mind was tearing him apart...until he heard the response. And he could not, even if he tried, repress the relieved sigh that escaped him.

"I... I can't leave Tom behind. Not while there is a war here. He is the closest thing I can call a family right now."

Tom felt like falling. Potter had called him family. Potter was not leaving him. There was something that warmed up inside him, and even when he tried to convince himself that depending on someone was a weakness, he could not believe that anymore. Not when he wanted Potter to be his family too. Not when he had just accepted that Potter was more to him than anyone else had ever been.

At that given point in time, the shocked faces of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter would soon morph into something else. They had expected different from this interview, but this response was definitely something they could work with.

"Then we need to meet this Tom, don't you think?"

And then, Harry Potter, the boy who never had a family before, suddenly couldn't help the rush of hope flowing through him. Maybe he could be selfish after all.