Chapter Text
“Gather around everyone,” Tom said, surveying the crowd in front of him. He noticed a few new faces amongst them bringing up their numbers to thirty-two.
“Woah. What is this place?” Nance said, staring around the room, her mouth hanging slightly open. She wasn’t the only one. Tom had transformed the room and requirement into a replica of the Great Hall, down to the wax candles hovering above them. The only significant difference was the lack of tables and chairs, replaced instead with training dummies, crash mats and a small library of defence books he hadn’t even meant to summon. Everyone was doused in blue starlight from the ceiling, giving the space a surreal quality that Tom deemed appropriate for their purposes. It might have been more strategic to conceal the room of requirement from so many others but there was certainly enough room now for his lessons.
“This is where we’ll be holding meetings each Tuesday and Friday,” Tom said. He summoned a black board towards him and a few people gasped at the casual display of wandless magic. Tom had to supress a smile. “Before we begin today’s lesson, I thought it prudent to discuss some of our team goals.”
“Kill Grindelwald,” said someone in the crowd, causing a ripple of mutterings and nervous laughter.
“We shall start with more attainable goals,” Tom said and the noise instantly died down as everyone turned to listen to him. “After last week, I have ascertained four key objectives.” He shifted to write them down on the board with a piece of chalk. “Defensive magic, offensive magic, survival skills and muggle self-defence.”
“You’re going to teach us how to fight like muggles,” the little Slytherin from last week said, his eyes almost cartoonishly wide. “But don’t they hit each other with their hands. Isn’t that barbaric?”
“What’s your name?” Tom asked.
“Elias Fowley, sir,” the Slytherin said.
“Well Fowley,” the little boy shrunk away from Tom’s intense look, “what would you if someone disarmed you? They overpowered you, snapped your wand and are now blocking your only way out.”
Fowley chewed at his lip. “Well, uh, I don’t know sir. I would run away?”
“Where?” Tom said, “there’s only one exit.”
“I suppose I would stab him?” Fowley guessed.
“With what?”
“My fists?” Fowley raised his hands like he was holding two imaginary candlesticks. One of the Gryffindors laughed and Fowley flushed a deep pink.
“There is no need for that,” Tom turned on them, “this is why we are here, to learn. Muggle fighting may be primitive but it may also be your last line of defence. Today we will be focusing on throwing punches, dodging attacks and undoing bindings with help from a few volunteers.” Henry, Whit and Eddie all grinned with a little more enthusiasm than Tom thought was called for. He knew for a fact that Henry had trained with his Quidditch team for three hours yesterday and yet he was bouncing on the soles of his feet like a puppy that needed to let out for his daily walk. Tom looked past them, hoping to see a head of blonde hair and a familiar scowl. He found Ally standing near the fringes of the group next to Hagrid looking like he had spent the day in the Forbidden Forest but there was no Argus.
“But first we have the matter of our name,” Tom said, forcing down the lump in his throat.
“I still like the wixen’s coven,” Nance spoke up.
“Sort of redundant to have wixen and coven in the same title,” Eddie said. “Only wixen have covens.” His hair was no longer bubble-gum pink but instead a shade of bright yellow that hurt a little to look at. Tom briefly wondered if this was a new Quidditch strategy. He hoped Henry wouldn’t dye his hair. Glancing over, Tom thought that the strands of blonde amongst Henry’s light brown curls always made it look like he was bathed in sunlight. If Eddie made him dye that hair, Tom would hunt the keeper down and psychologically destroy him.
“And vampires,” Nance said, drawing Tom back from his wandering thoughts.
“My vote is for a parliament,” Danny said, “like in gobstones.”
“Can I vote to veto anything Danny says if he follows it with like in Gobstones?” Alex said beside him and there was a collective aye from the crowd.
“I have already settled on a name,” Tom said, drawing attention back to him. “It is of my opinion that, despite how bleak it may seem, this war will not last. There will be a world afterward and I believe our name should reflect that.” His eyes swept over the sea of heads.
No one was staring at him like his Knights had when he spoke about the future, as if his dreams were nothing more than somewhat amusing fantasies. Their eyes lacked the hardness, the acceptance that the wixen would sooner replace their quills with biros than make any meaningful changes. Tom saw hope looking back at him and it was exhilarating.
“We will be an order,” he said standing tall, “the order of the phoenix.”
There was a moment of silence.
“I like it,” Henry said at last.
“Me too,” Nance piped up and everyone followed with murmurs of agreement.
“It was my son’s idea,” Tom said, looking over at Harry who, for some reason, seemed to be trying to stifle his laughter.
“Right,” Tom clapped his hands together, “time to get started. We are going to divide into-.”
The door flew open and Argus ran inside. He skidded to a stop in front of Tom, gasping for air, his face flushed. “I’m here.”
Ally barrelled towards him and wrestled her brother into something that was either a hug or a fairly decent demonstration on how to incapacitate the enemy.
Get off. Argus signed, trying to struggle out of her grasp.
Ally just held him closer.
It took longer than Tom thought to divide the room into groups of three but he managed it. They were roughly arranged by age group though Hagrid had been tentatively placed in a group of his own with a specially reinforced dummy. The boy could prove useful but he would need to learn to control his strength. Tom would not allow Ally to be hurt by her new friend.
Henry was managing the youngest group. He had slung his outer robe over a chair and was now only in a white singlet and his maroon, Quidditch track suit pants. Tom walked between the groups, making sure no one was off task or at risk of grievous injury but his eyes kept being drawn back to Henry.
He was crouching in front of Harry and showing him how to protect his thumbs.
“And now punch me,” Henry said, holding up both of his hands.
Harry oscillated on his toes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” Henry said, “I promise. Go on, take your best shot.”
Looking hesitant, Harry drew back his fist and hit it into Henry’s hand with all the force of a five year old.
“Did I hurt you?” Harry said at once, biting his lip.
“Not at all,” Henry reassured him. “I didn’t feel a thing.”
“That’s-wait…hey.” Harry crossed his arms, pouting. He muttered under his breath and Tom caught something about a dragon and a golden egg.
“Your turn,” Henry turned to Argus, raising his hands back up. “Do you worst.”
“I don’t want to hit you,” Argus said in a small voice.
You are all wusses. Ally signed beside him. She raised her tiny fist and aimed them straight at Henry’s shoulder but he caught her wrist, stopping any movement.
“You’ve already had your turn,” Henry said, patting Ally on the head and making her huff in irritation. “At this point it’s just bullying.” He turned around to face Argus and wiggled forward a little on his knees.
“Go on,” Henry encouraged, “just imagine I’m someone you hate.”
Argus’s eyes narrowed. He clenched his fists tightly together but Tom could still see that they were shaking. In one swift motion, Argus brought his fist back and slammed it directly into the centre of Henry’s palm.
“Ah, fuck,” Henry shook his hand, “uh, sorry I mean,” he moved his hands to sign a word that was considerably ruder making Ally giggle.
“Are you alright?” Argus asked, rushing forward to examine Henry’s hand.
“You’ve got power, little man,” Henry said, jumping up this feet, “but I could be much worse.” He dragged over a dummy and stood with his hands on his hips. “Now let me show you where to hit if you want your opponent to cry.”
“Uh Tom,”
Tom started and tore his eyes away from Henry.
“Sorry to take you away from that,” Danny waved vaguely at Henry, “but I think someone needs to stop Ruth.”
Tom glanced over to see Ruth pummelling what was left of a duelling dummy.
“Right,” he said, drawing out his wand, “yes I should-.”
“I spoke to Henry,” Danny said and Tom paused.
“You-.”
“No, I didn’t tell him about the gobstones club,” Danny rolled his eyes, “I didn’t even talk about you. I’m not going to be like my old friends and push people around. Just,” he smiled softly over at Henry who was pointing out the best places to punch someone to a crowd of rapt eleven year olds. “Talk to him,” Danny said, mirroring the advice Henry had once given him all those weeks ago, “and quick tip, maybe don’t say our relationship is complicated. It makes it sound like we’re sneaking off into broom closets while our girlfriends think we’re at Quidditch training.”
With that, he pat Tom on the shoulder and went off to join Alex, Connie and Tee. Feeling a little dazed, Tom followed them.
The session came to a close without incident, aside from a few bruises. Henry passed out a homebrewed bruise balm as Tom tidied away the dummies and crash mats.
“Thank you for coming today,” Tom said once the area was clear, “you have all made much progress. We will be meeting next Tuesday for a split lesson in warding and barricading spells. If you have not already paid the three sickles, please do so.”
He watched the students file out of the room of requirement, all talking about the lesson. The defensive students appeared more relaxed and the nervous ones stood a little straighter. A few of them met Tom’s gaze and smiled back at him.
“We should have a suggestion box,”
Tom looked around and saw that he was now alone except for Henry and Harry.
“As long as you do not insist that I listen to them,” Tom said to Henry.
“They might have good ideas,” Henry came over to stand in front of him, “you never know-.”
“Come with me to Hogsmeade,” Tom said in one breath, making Henry go quiet.
“Just you, Harry and I,” Tom could feel his heart thudding in his chest, “I’ve been meaning to get more books and with the funds from these meetings-.”
“Yes,” it was Henry’s turn to interrupt. “I’d love to go with you.”
“Ok then,” Tom said, “I can meet you at ten. I’m doing…something with Danny in the mornings.”
“Oh right,” Henry’s voice sounded strange.
“We’re not sneaking off into any broom closets,” Tom rushed to add. For some reason this didn’t seem to appease Henry. He looked over at Harry but he was no help. His son was perched on a pile of crash mats reading a book on defensive magic.
“Well,” Henry said slowly, “I suppose I’ll see you at ten.”
“See you then,” Tom nodded.
Harry hopped down from the crash mats and took his hand. “Bye Henry,” he said, waving.
“Bye mein löwe,” Henry ruffled his hair.
The three of them parted outside of the room of requirement, Henry going up to Gryffindor tower and Tom and Harry back down to the dungeons. Harry’s footsteps grew sluggish and Tom scooped him up into his arms.
“Have fun?” Tom asked, holding Harry close.
Harry nodded into his shoulder. “Like the name. Death Eaters is stupid.”
“I think it’s time you went to bed,” Tom stroked his hair, ignoring whatever he was talking about. “Ambrosius.” The wall in front of them slid open and Tom stepped into the Slytherin common, thinking of his pillow and thick duvet.
“There you are Riddle,”
Tom jumped, jostling Harry and almost causing him to wake. His head jerked up to see his Knights sitting in the darkened common room, all staring in is direction. In the centre of the group was Walburga, clutching a yellowing newspaper. She was smiling.
“I thought you might find this interesting,” Walburga flung the newspaper at his feet.
Feeling a deep coldness sinking through him, Tom glanced down. The newspaper headline was written in all capitals.
TOM RIDDLE JNR RUNS OFF WITH THE TRAMPS DAUGHTER
Below the headline was a picture of a man. Tom’s finger trembled as he reached for the page and drew it close. It was like staring at a mirror.