There was a moment's silence between the elderly man and the young boy.
"How do you do Tom?", asked the elderly man, as he stretched out his hand toward the boy, stepping out of the shadow, so that his face was bathed in light. Hesitantly, the boy took his hand. Meanwhile, Damien was in shock as he stared at the old man in the plum velvet suit, who by now had drawn up the wooden chair beside Riddle.
'Is that...'
"I am Professor Dumbledore."
In an instant, Damien's question was answered, as he came to an abrupt realisation.
'I'm in Harry Potter.', this single thought left him floored as he considered the millions of implications that this single fact could have. Did thoughts create existence? Or did this world always exist? Did other fictional worlds exist?
Suddenly, another amazing thought struck him, 'I have magic. Magic is real.'
Astonished, he entered deep contemplation, no longer caring for the ongoing conversation, or even the now burning wardrobe.
'I can't believe this. Harry Potter. Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore. Magic. They all exist.'
The world he had only thought of as fiction, only real in books, bought to life around him. Despite the proof before him, playing out in front of his very eyes, he was unable to accept it.
At this moment, another staggering idea occurred to him.
'If this is actually the Harry Potter world, then I know everything that's going to happen... I'm practically invincible.'
This realisation imbued him with an overwhelming, ecstatic joy.
Everything that would happen in this world had already been written, preordained by fate, if you will. And Damien already knew everything. The Philosopher's Stone, Professor Quirrel, the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius Black, the Triwizard Tournament... With this knowledge, he could easily rule this world. He could have everything he ever dreamed of... including magic.
Of course by now, he had realised that he had no 'special power', but instead had magic. He was a wizard.
His attention returned to the view before him, where now, Dumbledore was telling Tom Riddle the exact way to Diagon Alley, from the orphanage, before handing him a white envelope, that contained his list of equipment.
Ask for Tom the barman — easy enough to remember, as he shares your name —"
Riddle gave an irritable twitch, as though trying to displace an irksome fly.
"You dislike the name 'Tom'?"
"There are a lot of Toms."
Suddenly, Damien's vision swirled and the world seemed to blur into whiteness. All of a sudden, he found himself back inside his own body, kneeling on the floor, Kristian's passed out form laying in front of him.
Before he could move, a massive wave of fatigue abruptly washed over his body, sending him spiralling into unconsciousness.
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Damien came to, hours later, laying on a soft bed and surrounded in a quilt.
He was back in his room, the once unfamiliar walls now seemed normal to him. As he sat up on his bed, he recalled what had just been revealed to him. Magic. Wizards. It was all real. And he was one of them. He couldn't believe it.
'Now that I know where I am, my plans need changing. I need to learn magic. I need to get to Diagon Alley.'
With this, he jumped out of his bed.
'Dumbledore told Riddle exactly how to get to the Leaky Cauldron from the orphanage. All I need to do is follow his instructions, and get to Charing Cross Road. Then I can enter Diagon Alley.'
As he left his room, he was mulling over ideas about how to get to the Leaky Cauldron unhindered, after all he was only a child of four years old. But a sudden thought struck him.
'I don't have any money. How am I going to buy books and learn magic? This is a big problem.'
He stopped in his tracks as he began to ponder on the solution to his problem. He had to have a large amount of money, enough to buy several important books, or there would be no point in going, if he couldn't afford anything.
'We only get a small amount of pocket money at the orphanage, definitely not enough t-'
He abruptly exclaimed, "Why didn't I think of that before!", as a brilliant idea struck him.
Although they didn't get a lot of pocket money, for the last few months, Kristian had been snatching it from the younger kids, because he wanted to buy a bike off a friend in school.
'If my calculation is correct, he should have at least twenty pounds saved up by now. He's not a nice person anyway, so I'll just 'acquire' some funds for myself.'
As this thought passed through his mind, he was suddenly interrupted by a shocked voice.
"Damien! What are you doing up?", called Miss Price, worry evident in her voice, "We found you and Kristian on the floor, in the playroom. Are you okay? Did he hurt you? He won't tell us what happened."
Bombarded by questions, fired out at a rapid rate, Damien was unsure of what to answer.
"I'm feeling... fine, Miss Price. You don't need to worry."
Although still looking worried, she said, "That's good then. Come with me though, Mr Bishop said he wants to see you when you wake up."
She walked towards Bishop's office, while holding Damien's hand. Soon they arrived at a large, old-looking, wooden door. As Miss Price slowly approached the door, Damien heard a faint, soft voice coming from the room.
"Can you tell me what happened? You seem traumatised. Don't worry, nothing can hurt you here."
Miss Price slowly approached the door and knocked, "Mr. Bishop? Damien's awake. I've bought him to talk to you."
The voices stopped.
"He's talking to someone else. Can't you hear him?", Damien addressed Miss Price.
Miss Price seemed baffled as she only shot a confused look his way.
'Could she not hear him talking?' thought Damien.
"Come in.", Mr Bishop's deep voice called.
Without thinking further Miss Price swung the door open, Damien was able to see the inside of Bishop's office. But rather than the wooden panel walls, or the elegant cherry wood desk that Mr Bishop leaned on, what caught his attention, was the door, that had just been opened.
The door was very thick, at least three or four inches in width, which surprised Damien. He shouldn't have been able to hear these voices, and even if he could, definitely not so clearly. No wonder Miss Price couldn't hear anything. But then, why could he?
In front of Bishop, sat Kristian, who looked lifeless and sluggish. Yet the moment Damien walked in, seemed to have seen a lethal predator enter the room. His once spiritless form now became tense, his eyes widened, and his breathing became slightly faster.
Mr Bishop clearly saw these changes, and seemed to freeze, his eyes glazed over as he seemed to go into a reverie.
"Mr. Bishop?"
"..."
"Mr. Bishop?"
It took Miss Price a few calls to break Bishop out of his trance. His eyes darted around the room, before locking on to Damien's face, fear in his eyes. He soon composed himself, but if someone observed closely, there was still subdued terror in his gaze whenever he looked at Damien.
"O-oh, Miss Price. You can leave us now... Damien, take a seat."
As Miss Price left the room, Bishop observed Kristian and Damien. One was extremely tense, as if his greatest nightmare was right in front of him, and Mr Bishop realised it probably was.
The other, Damien looked guilty as he stared at Kristian, but Bishop didn't believe that, you could never tell what they were feeling.
In his mind the figure of Damien and... him... seemed to merge with one another. No one could never tell with him either... but he definitely never felt guilt. Mr. Bishop didn't want to believe that they were the same, but what had happened now, was so similar to what had happened with that person.
He stared at Damien with caution, "Can you tell me what happened with you and Kristian? We found you both in the playroom. But, he... doesn't want to tell me."
What seemed to be millions of thoughts passed through his head in that moment. He couldn't tell Mr Bishop the truth. He had to lie.
"I don't remember everything, but I can tell you what I remember.", he tried to put on an innocent and scared face as he said this, "I-I remember that I was in the playroom, and then Kristian came in. He said that he was angry at me for embarrassing him, and that he would teach me a lesson. Th-then he punched me. Th-then my head started hurting and I remember falling and thrashing around. A-and I don't remember much after that, except that I think I kicked Kristian in the face. Maybe that was why he was unconscious."
Mr. Bishop's face went pale.
"Y-you... I didn't tell you that he was unconscious.", at this point Mr. Bishop was stumbling out of his chair, backing away from Damien, "You-You're just like him. You're just like Tom Riddle! Y-You're a demon!", by now, his back was already touching the walls of his office.
Damien was shocked when he heard what Mr. Bishop said. Things had gone catastrophically wrong and he needed to fix it. He racked his mind, thinking of a way to fix the situation. He suddenly found the solution, in an unexpected place - Tom Riddle's memories.
Riddle had often infused magic into his speech, to compel the people around him. Damien would now have to use this, to rectify the situation. He followed the actions done by Riddle in his memories. He focused as hard as he could on the idea of Mr. Bishop forgetting what had happened, and released his magic through his voice.
"FORGET!", rather than his normal, childish voice, these words came out in a loud, ringing tone, that seemed to impose Damien's will upon the surroundings.
Mr. Bishop seemed to enter a stupor, as his eyes once again glazed over. Kristian also entered a trance, in the same chair he had been in, since Damien entered the room.
Soon, Mr Bishop awoke. He looked around the room surprised, before turning to the boys and asking, "Why am I standing up?".
Damien gave Mr Bishop his best confused look, "You didn't say. You just got up.".
Bishop quickly returned to his seat before focusing on Damien.
"What happened with you and Kristian in the playroom? He... seems traumatised. He won't tell me."
Again putting on his best innocent look, Damien retold his story, without mentioning the fact that Kristian was unconscious.
"If that was what happened, then why was Kristian unconscious too?", questioned Bishop.
"Maybe, he was accidentally knocked out by my spasming?", with this sentence, Damien had infused some magic, to make it more believable, otherwise this excuse would never work.
"Hmmm. Yes... maybe."
'This is really useful.' thought Damien, 'I could do a lot of things with this.'
"But if that's what happened, then why didn't you tell me before?", this question was directed at Kristian.
His eyes widened in panic, as his gaze darted to Damien's face.
"He was probably just embarrassed", suddenly Damien interjected, "Right?"
Kristian hurriedly nodded his head, "Y-yes", that was the only word he had spoken the entire meeting.
Bishop was suspicious. This boy reminded him of Tom Riddle so much. Kristian was so traumatised he didn't want to say what had happened.
But he didn't want to believe it. Damien was only four years old. How could a child so young be anything like that demon?
"Fine.", said Mr. Bishop, "Get out now. Both of you.", and despite his doubts, Bishop's cautious gaze followed Damien's figure as he left the office.