Chapter Text
Tom never believed in heaven, hell, god, or devil. Despite all the prayers the matron forced the children to recite before every meal, it never stuck. Mrs Cole had a lot of superstitions, most of them aimed against Tom. He was always a devil’s spawn in her eyes, and other kids feared and avoided him, encouraged by the same beliefs.
Tom knew he had powers, like no one else did, he was different, he was better than anyone. If they wanted to believe he was a demon incarnate, shouldn’t he have all the right to turn their lives into a living hell? Most of the time, though, he just wished they’d leave him alone.
There was a knock on his door, before Mrs Cole entered, looking stern and vindictive. Tom closed the book he was reading, bending the corner of the page for a bookmark, and sat up on his bed a bit straighter, dropping his feet to the floor.
“There is a visitor for you, Tom.”
Tom wanted to roll his eyes. Another visitor so soon after that doctor last week? Was it yet another attempt to exorcise a devil out of him?
A man followed after Mrs Cole. Yes, definitely. He was a lot younger than Tom expected, in a simple black suit and black shirt embellished with a white clerical collar, an unmistakable indication he was a priest. Mrs Cole left, and the priest sent Tom a friendly smile. How odd. No one ever acted friendly towards Tom. He narrowed his eyes at the priest, but the man didn’t look intimidated, only went further into the room and sat on a chair in front of Tom.
“So you are the demon child,” the priest started, but his tone lacked any accusation, bordering on light and humorous.
“I’m not a demon child.” Tom replied seriously, taking his chance to make this very needed clarification.
“Of course you aren’t, there’s no such thing as demon children.” The priest chuckled and his eyes, covered by the round spectacles, focused on Tom, and Tom noticed they were very bright and so vividly green. “So, what kind of child are you?”
“I’m not a child.” Was Tom’s almost automatic response.
“No? You look a lot like a kid to me.”
Tom glared. The priest still wasn’t intimidated.
“No need to be so offended about the truth. How old are you?”
“Ten.”
“See? Still a child by all legal accounts. So you won’t convince me otherwise.”
Tom sent his most menacing glare.
“Hey!” The priest placated. “Nothing’s wrong with being a kid. Actually, I wish I still was one myself.” He smiled a bit, humorously, eyes suddenly distant and wistful.
And here Tom thought the priest still was one, he looked a lot like a teenager. Eighteen then, Tom wouldn’t give him more than that.
The man snapped out of it, eyes once again shining brightly, focusing on Tom.
“So, tell me your side of the story. I already heard all about how evil you are from Mrs Cole, now is your turn.”
Tom hesitated for a moment, eyes narrowed, but the priest’s face was open, ready to listen.
“I’m not like other children.” Tom found himself saying.
The priest nodded, encouraging to continue.
“I’m different. I’m better than them.”
“Why?” It didn’t sound like a protest, but like the priest genuinely wished to know.
“I just know it. I can do what others won’t even imagine, like moving things with only my mind.” He cast a careful glance at the man, but his expression didn’t change, eyes still earnest and full of attention, so Tom continued. “I can make animals do what I want, but everyone thinks I’m evil.”
“No one is inherently evil, I know you can be good too.”
“I’m the devil incarnate, they say.”
“You are not.”
“I’m not?” Tom knew he wasn’t, but he was asking for the sake of an argument, curious to see where it would lead.
“For one, devil doesn’t exist…”
“But god exists?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Aren’t you a priest?”
“I am, ain’t I?” The priest muttered, and Tom eyed him sceptically.
“You don’t talk or act like other priests.”
“I’m different like that, okay?” The priest threw his hands in a vague gesture. “There are no two persons who are the same. You shouldn’t generalise people just because they share some common traits.”
“But you don’t even believe in god.” Tom observed, slowly.
“You know that priesthood is a job, right? Like any other job, you don’t have to believe in god to do it.”
Tom stifled a laugh, finding the statement to be utterly ridiculous. “That just means you’re not a real priest.”
The man ran a hand through his wild black hair, almost sheepish, but quickly regained his composure, pointing a finger at Tom.
“Well, we strayed from the topic. Let’s not talk about me, I’m here for you.”
“To exorcise me.”
“No. Well, yes. But as far as I’m concerned, Mrs Cole doesn’t have to know what actually happens here, and I can’t exorcise someone who isn’t really possessed by a devil.”
“Because devil doesn’t exist.”
“Yep. That’s right. So let’s just have a pleasant chat, where you can share with me whatever you want, and I won’t judge, I promise.”
Tom was inclined to believe the odd priest, he already felt lighter, talking to him, he felt no judgment before, disclosing his abilities. And if the man snitched on him to Mrs Cole, well, then Tom will know his real nature and won’t trust him again. It’s not like he couldn’t deal with Mrs Cole, either. But she already believed a lot of bad things about him, so to test the trust, Tom disclosed something no one knew about.
He went to his closet and took out a box to show the man. There he kept his most prized possessions. The green eyes went over the items with interest, but it didn’t seem to be aimed at the at the trinkets themselves.
“Very nice. How did you get them?” Was what the man chose to ask, and Tom felt an uncomfortable prickle forming in his chest.
His tone came out sharper, almost defensive. “I took what was supposed to be mine.”
“You mean, you stole it?” The man looked directly at Tom, and his face wasn’t angry or accusing, but it was as if he knew.
“No…”
The priest’s eyes gained a slight edge of disappointment, and Tom suddenly felt a lump in his throat, the uncomfortable feeling growing.
“That’s not a very nice thing to do, Tom…” The priest said softly. He still didn’t use an accusatory tone, but somehow it was even worse. Tom closed the lid on the box and pretended not to be bothered.
“What about you? Can I see it?”
Tom motioned to the cross that hung from the priest’s neck, and for some reason the man’s cheeks flushed red.
“Yeah, sure.” He muttered nevertheless and sat on the bed beside Tom, so he could inspect the cross. It was simple, silver combined with gold, and cold to the touch.
The priest shifted uncomfortably. “I… uh. Actually, I borrowed it from someone.” He confessed, and Tom understood now the nature of that blush. “But I will return it. Definitely. So you should too. Return what you borrowed, I mean.”
He didn’t say stole this time, and Tom felt somewhat better for it. He nodded, which didn’t really make it a promise, and continued examining the cross. When Tom first saw it, he had the urge to ask if he could have it, but now that he knew it didn’t really belong to the priest, he wasn’t so interested.
He let it slide from his fingers as it knocked gently on the priest’s chest.
“That’s the spirit.” The priest beamed at him, mistaking Tom’s nod for a promise, and ruffled his hair.
Tom glared, but without much usual ferocity, and the man only laughed, ruffling his hair further. Tom found himself relaxing, not entirely hating the touch.
“I assure you, Mrs Cole, the exorcism concluded successfully. From now on, you’ll see Tom only as an angel…”
Tom heard the priest say before the door closed to the matron’s office.
From then on, Mrs Cole indeed viewed him as an angel. It was a massive improvement, really. The only regret Tom had was that Mrs Cole didn’t have any reason to call for a priest anymore. And Tom never even asked what the priest’s name was.
Tom often recalled their conversation, going through it in his mind over and over. For the first time, someone talked to him, really talked, and treated him normally, like a human. Even if the priest insisted Tom was a child, he never actually talked to him like he was one, didn’t try to diminish him, or talk as if he expected a lesser intellect. The more he thought about it, the more Tom realised that he missed it… He wanted to see the man again.
He dreamt about him sometimes. In the dreams, Tom would go to the church and confess his sins, and the priest would smile his friendly smile and say that Tom was a good boy and did nothing wrong.
A few times Tom actually went to the local churches to find him, but failed. Did the man get sacked for not believing in god? Could priests even get sacked? Maybe, Tom thought bitterly, he wasn’t a real priest after all.
He often remembered the gentle touch, when the man ruffled his hair, and with mild regret that he didn’t actually do so, imagined how he would also ruffle the priest’s hair in turn. His black locks looked very ruffable, unruly and wild.
Tom had a trouble letting go of nice things. And the priest was the nicest thing that happened to him so far. Maybe that’s why he no longer had any attachment to the items he collected from other kids. He returned them like a good boy, like the priest said he should.
The kids started talking to him again. Not that he cared.
About a year later he got another visitor. With a genial smile and a twinkle in his eyes, the man appeared kind, but it wasn’t the same kindness Tom sought. He told he was the Deputy Headmaster of a boarding school Tom was enrolled in. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Tom didn’t say anything about his powers, he didn’t like the twinkling eyes, and he didn’t want to impress this Professor. The only thing that made it up for a disappointment that this, now rare, visitor wasn’t his priest, was that it was confirmed that Tom was special. He was a wizard.
He thought about ordinary people who didn’t have magic with contempt, now with justifiable superiority, but then he remembered his priest and how he told him not to generalise people. It didn’t change Tom’s opinion about muggles, but he was willing to make exceptions.
The school year started and after a myriad of new impressions, the Diagon Alley, the Hogwarts Express, the magnificent castle, the sorting, the feast, Tom looked a bit wide-eyed at everything. Yet, his eyes widened even more so, almost comically, as he stared at one figure in particular, not believing what he was seeing. The introductions of each Professor were made one by one, and finally Headmaster Dippet addressed the man, or rather an elephant in the room, as far as Tom was concerned.
“We also have a new addition to our staff members this year. Harry Evans will be an Assistant to Professor Merrythought in the Defence Against the Dark Arts.”
Everyone applauded, and Tom couldn’t take his eyes off, because right there was his priest. Harry Evans was his priest.
As if sensing Tom’s gaze, Harry turned to look at him and… winked. Smiling just a bit, that little friendly smile, just for Tom, before looking away as if nothing unusual was happening.
What the hell?