Tom looked up from his book and out the window just in time to spot a woman coming to visit the orphanage. He couldn’t make out much due to her umbrella, nothing more than a dark dress and coat.
He was certain she was there, looking to adopt one of his fellow orphans, he didn’t hold out much hope of being chosen. The few who had seemed interested in the past, had always been scared off by the stories Mrs Cole told them of him. They always painted him the worst light possible, making him seem like some kind of devil’s spawn.
Hence his waiting for all the other orphans to rush past, on Martha’s order, before he sedately followed them into the “playroom”, where they were supposed to be on their very best behaviour in order to seem the most attractive ones to adopt. Everyone wished to be the next one to leave the dreary old orphanage.
Tom sat down in his usual corner, placing his book against his raised knees and prepared himself to be unseen and undesired—as always.
Soon enough, far too soon in Tom’s opinion, he heard Mrs Cole’s simpering voice and barely registered the odd tone underneath. Almost as though she was intimidated by the other, yet... not. It also sounded as though she was very keen on remaining in the other person’s good graces. It was far too contradicting for Tom to care enough to truly decipher. He was only eight, but he already knew that he had a hard time understanding or deciphering some emotions and figured that this was one of those times.
When Mrs Cole entered the room with the unknown woman in tow, the first thing he registered was the woman’s hair; it was the colour of wildfire. Once her gaze turned from the simpering old hag to the children, Tom saw eyes that were green like death.
He scrunched up his nose ever so slightly. Green like death? Death was not green. Death was black like rot. Death was white like bone. It was not green.
The thought still refused to leave.
The woman smiled softly at the children, it looked off on her. It looked real enough, yet as though it didn’t quite belong on her face.
Her presence, however, everyone closest to her seemed to fidget and Mrs Cole seemed to slowly shrink where she stood next to her. No one seemed to notice. No one seemed to truly register the primal fear the woman inspired in them all, it was as though Tom was the only one who did.
Still, he stayed where he was like a fool.
“Children, this is Mrs Peverell and she is looking to adopt one of you,” Mrs Cole informed them. "I'm sorry but it is Mr, Mrs Cole ". The feminine guy side. " I'm sorry Mr. For mistaking you as she". The Man only smile slightly, doesn't reply to her apologize.
“Behave now.” Her last words were primarily aimed at Tom and he knew it, she always assumed the worst of him.
“Hello children,” Mr Peverell said, he voice was deceptively soft and melodic.
“Hello mister Peverell,” the majority of the children replied in some semblance of a chorus.
Tom observed only for so long that he saw MrsPeverell glide further into the room and since he knew he wouldn’t be chosen, he returned to his book.
Thus, it came as a shock, a few minutes later, when Mr Peverell was suddenly crouched in front of him. He ruthlessly suppressed the urge to jump and merely twitched instead. He hadn’t even heard he approach, hadn’t heard he crouch down. He prided himself of always knowing when someone came near him. And when He doesn't hear any sound came from other sides, Silent as the grave, was his immediate thought.
“Hello child,” he said with a light grin, as though he knew very well what he had thought.”
“Hello,” he replied. What else could he do in the presence and under the direct scrutiny of this feminine man who exuded danger in a way no one else had ever done?
Still, it was as though the danger wasn’t directed at him at all? It made no sense to him.
“That is Tom Riddle, ma’am,” Mrs Cole immediately intervened, “he’s something of a delinquent, not a kind child at all. He’s always in the midst of everything bad happening here.”
Tom had barely the time to scowl at Mrs Cole, before Mr Peverell spoke. It was clear she spoke to the matron of the orphanage but his gaze did not waver from Tom’s face.
“He’s perfect.”
Tom blinked and Mrs Cole sputtered at the proclamation, she couldn’t believe that anyone could consider Tom anything other than a devil in human form and tried her best to inform Mr Peverell of this.
The latter silenced the matron with a single raised hand and the air seemed to cool by several degrees as he rose up, just as silently as before, and turned around in a manner that was eerie yet graceful. There seemed to have been none of the required leg movements for such an action and Tom was reminded of the way he seemed to have glided into the room, instead of walked.
“I will have this child,” he said. He soft tone had an undercurrent of steel and it was clear she expected obedience and nothing less. Well is she doesn't obey, there will be some account to settle.
( Hello my child. Shshshs sorry for the late publish for this fanfic there's some problems with Wattpad that i have to hold this book for a while. Anyway i will update this book twice a week Soo at Thursday i will update this book for chapter 2 hope y'all like this chapter )
