Hired (A Tom Felton Fanfic)

Chapter 3

                Tom says my training will begin tomorrow.  He drops me off at a random street corner via my request.  I can't risk him seeing my small amount of possessions hidden under a dumpster.  Not now.  He represents everything I want, and everything I haven't had in such a long time.  I can't have him figuring out the truth, if he hasn't already.  I run all the way to my hiding place and quickly retrieve my mother's book and my grandmother's hankerchief.  That's all I own.  

                I hurry to the hotel that Tom asked me to meet him in.  His bodyguard waits for me in the lobby.  I haven't set foot in a place this fancy since my last trip with my mother, I realize.  I try not to linger on that though.  The staff at the front desk glare at me as the bodyguard says, "This way."  His voice is deep and rough.  It's the voice of an ancient secret, not a burly guy.

                The guard slides a key into the slot and we step into a huge hotel room.  He rasps, "This is yours.  Here is a key.  Mr. Felton is next door to the right."  He nudges his head in the direction of Tom's room.  "We took the liberty of getting a few casual outfits for you.  They are in the closet, and a few personal items are in the upper left drawer in your main bathroom.  Mr. Felton has requested you are ready for departure by 4:00 AM tomorrow morning."  He makes a move as if to leave, then hesitates.  "There is also a suitcase in the small closet should you need it."

                After all of this, all I can manage is, "Thank you."

                He seems to understand.  He merely nods, then leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him.

                I look around at the room.  It has a huge arcing ceiling and lavish furniture.  The place has two bathrooms, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a living room.  It's like a whole house.  I look and find the closet with what the bodyguard had called "a few casual outfits" which turns out to be equipped with ten dresses, shoes, purses, and varying accessories.  I find the plainest thing possible, a blue plaid dress that lies just above my knee.  I lay it out on the enormous green sofa and go to investigate the big bathroom.  I haven't been in an actual bathroom for a little more than a year.  It is incredible.  

                I stop dead at the sight of the shower.  It's enormous, with bottles of shampoo lining the entire shelf inside.  The towels are all perfectly white and crisply folded.  I decide that my exploring can wait.  I need to take a shower this very minute.  I had washed my face and hair in fast-food restaurant bathrooms so much that I had forgotten what an actual honest-to-god shower was like.  At first, I just stand under the heavenly spray of warm water.  Then I decide to soap up.  I do my hair first, and I just can't fathom the amount of dirt that comes out.  After I wash my body off, my skin is a few shades lighter.  I feel extremely happy with my work, so I shut off the water and grab one of the fluffy towels.  It is like I have wrapped myself in a cloud.  I find a bathrobe in the bathroom closet and envelop myself in it.  After my hair dries, I consult my reflection in the mirror.  Gone is that girl who, just hours ago, was happy to find bread on a bench or a place to wash her hands.  In her place is someone confident who can take a shower whenever she desires, and has actual clothing to change into.  I smile at myself in the mirror and hope that is really me I see smiling back.