Chapter Text
The day after lunch, Thomas gathered Newt, Minho, Gally, Frypan, and Brenda in his room under the pretext of collaborating on their History of Magic essay. After listening to his account of the previous night's bizarre events, a brief, dead silence fell over the room.
"Maybe the professors just have some quirks," Frypan said, rubbing his hands together. "There are rumors Snape dabbles in Dark Arts. Professor Ava locking up one room isn't that big a deal."
"Aris might just be grieving too much," Newt said, sitting on the edge of Thomas's bed, his brow furrowed. "He lost Rachel. None of us have gone through something like that."
"That's exactly the point!" Gally, who had been silent, suddenly stood up, his voice rising involuntarily. "Rachel is dead! It's been a year. What does Aris think he's doing now? It's clearly a trap, Thomas. "
"He wouldn't lie about Rachel," Thomas's voice was low but firm. "I know him."
"You know the old Aris! Not this... this..." Gally waved his arms, searching for the right word, then spat one out with disdain, "...Slytherin."
"Gally! This isn't about Hogwarts,"Brenda cut him off sharply,then she turned to Thomas, her clever eyes burning with an angry fire. "Thomas, did you get a clear look at the door?"
"It was that old-fashioned, heavy-looking iron kind. With a keyhole." Thomas answered immediately.
"Oh, come on, Brenda. You're not actually thinking of getting mixed up in this mess, are you?" Gally looked at her with disbelief, as if personally betrayed.
"I don't care about Aris. It's for Rachel," Brenda's voice was quiet but sharp as a blade. "If Rachel really is in there, then I'll never forgive Ava."
Minho, who had been leaning against the wall, finally spoke up. "Using magic outside school is a huge taboo. The Ministry would swoop down like bats smelling blood. We need another way."
Frypan looked at Brenda. "Do you have any Muggle lock-picking tools? Wire? A drill?"
Brenda's eyes lit up. "The Weasley twins gave me some hardening paste."
"Right," Minho snapped his fingers. "Gally and I will figure out Janson's routine. Frypan and Brenda, you handle the 'key.' Thomas and Newt, you keep Aris steady. Make sure he doesn't cause any other trouble before we move."
"Wait, I don't—" Gally tried to protest. Minho just slung an arm around his shoulder, cutting him off.
"Don't even think about dodging this, brother. And, don't you want to know the truth? Think about it. Even if we're wrong, what have we lost? The worst Janson can do is ground us."
Gally fell into a sullen silence, and everyone knew that kind of silence from him usually meant consent.
"Should we tell Teresa?" Frypan asked. "She knows that building and Ava the best."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Frypan..." Gally rolled his eyes.
"I'll talk to her," Thomas nodded, patting the others on the shoulder, then said in a tone as light as he could manage, "We've got quite a bit of 'summer homework.' Let's get to it."
After seeing the others off, Thomas picked up his Transfiguration textbook and a roll of parchment and headed towards the orange building where Teresa lived. When they were little, they'd called it 'the Orange House.'
"Hey, kid, wait up." As Thomas reached the entrance, a tall man in a black suit stopped him at the door.
"Hello. I'm here to see Teresa. I wanted her to help me with my homework." Thomas put on what he hoped was a sufficiently well-behaved smile. This doorman seemed new, Thomas thought. He looked very unsure of his job.
"Oh, wait a moment. I have to ask... um..." The man flusteredly flipped through some paper files on a desk, then picked up a walkie-talkie. "Mr. Janson, there's a kid here wanting into the lab building... um..."
"My name is Thomas." Thomas said, looking at the drably colored building. So they just called it the lab building.
"...Right. Received," the man put down the walkie-talkie and waved Thomas over. "Come on, kid. I'll take you to Teresa's door, but you can only stay an hour. I'll come get you in an hour."
"That's enough." Thomas followed the man, observing everything closely. He hadn't been inside since he was eleven. Maybe it was his imagination, but even with bright lights, the corridor felt eerily gloomy.
"Why are you carrying parchment?" The man looked curiously at what Thomas held.
"It's for our summer homework." Thomas clutched his textbooks tighter, blocking the titles with his hand.
"Strange school. My daughter's public school just has them collect leaves to play with," the man said, panting slightly as they climbed the stairs. "Listen, Thomas. No funny or inappropriate business in the girl's room, you hear?"
"I promise, sir," Thomas frowned, then nodded, thinking at least this Muggle wasn't bad-hearted. "Alright. I'll knock at three. You need to come out right away then." the man stood at the doorway, watching as Teresa opened the door, and repeated his instructions.
"I'll watch the time. Thank you." Thomas watched the man's retreating back, then quickly closed the door tight.
Teresa's room was as cold and rational as she was. All her books were meticulously organized by year and subject on a large bookshelf, including many advanced magic books Thomas didn't recognize—gifts from Ava, he guessed. Beyond that, her room held only a simple bed. Not a single doll or any pillow a girl might like adorned it.
"Hey, how long are you going to stand there staring," Teresa raised an eyebrow. "And don't look at my wardrobe."
"I wasn't," Thomas turned his head. "Can I sit there?" He pointed to the single stool by the desk. Teresa nodded. She wore a long white nightgown and sat on the bed, barefoot.
"I want to give you a proper apology," Thomas said seriously, looking into Teresa's eyes. "For last term. I'm sorry, Teresa. I shouldn't have run away from you. I promise I won't do that again."
"It's fine. I'm used to it," Teresa looked up, her tone unreadable. "Since we were little, you've all been leaving me. You're just like the others, Thomas."
"...You can be mad at me. But Teresa, you left us," Thomas couldn't help correcting her. "You do whatever Ava tells you to."
"She raised us. Gave us a home," Teresa said, hugging her knees. "Our real parents abandoned us."
"We can't be sure of that," Thomas said, then shook his head. "Ugh. It feels like every time we meet, we just end up arguing about something. I don't want to do that anymore."
"Then what do you want to do?"
"Nothing. Just... be here with you for a bit." Thomas said. Even though he knew he should bring up Aris right away, he was afraid of seeing disappointment or disgust on Teresa's face. So Thomas decided to stall for a bit. He had an hour, after all. Plenty of time.
After a moment, Teresa patted her bed lightly, signaling for Thomas to sit there. Thomas, nearly fourteen, was already half a head taller than Teresa. He moved awkwardly to the edge of her bed, worried about dirtying her pillow. But Teresa didn't mind. She carefully touched Thomas's arm, marveling, "We've only been back a short while, and I think you've got more muscle."
"Really? I think Minho's more solid than me," Thomas said happily, flexing his arm. "But we're all getting taller. Newt measures me every day."
"We're all growing up," Teresa turned, sitting facing Thomas on the inner side of the bed. "We'll all grow up someday." Her last sentence was filled with a sadness Thomas didn't understand.
"When we're grown up, we can leave this place," Thomas eagerly imagined this future full of possibilities. "I want to try and get into a professional Quidditch team with Minho, or see if my grades are good enough to be an Auror. What about you? What do you want to do? When you're not a Slytherin anymore."
"I don't know," Teresa shifted forward, sitting closer to Thomas until their thighs touched. "What do you want me to do?"
"I..." Thomas was at a loss for words. A beam of light from the window fell into the room,
illuminating half of Teresa's face, leaving the other half in shadow.
"I just hope you'll always be with me," was all Thomas finally managed to say. "Can you promise me that?"
Teresa smiled. She blinked, reached out, and placed her hand on Thomas's cheek. The touch was as light as a cat's paw pad, making Thomas's heart itch. He closed his eyes slightly, leaning into her hand. They both laughed at the gesture. A warm, bubbling joy churned in Thomas's chest. He glanced at the clock on the wall and realized half the time was already gone.
"I wish you could move back in with us," Thomas pouted. "Then we'd have more than an hour together."
"At least we can still see each other," Teresa looked towards the door, her tone growing somber again. "Aris will never see Rachel again."
"What do you think of Aris? I mean, is he okay? I feel he's changed a lot." Thomas stammered.
"Rachel was his best friend. It's normal for him to change," Teresa's gaze shifted from the door back to Thomas. Outside, the light was gradually dimming, casting Teresa's face into shadow. "But he's chasing something futile. There's no benefit in obsessing over questions with no answers."
"You... you know?" Thomas's breath hitched for a second.
"I can guess at some of his attempts. Thomas, you need to convince him to give up. Ava's control over this orphanage runs much deeper than you think."
Just then, knocking came at the door. The doorman called Thomas's name loudly. Thomas had to stand up, clutching his untouched homework, and walk to the door. As he followed the man out, Teresa's voice slipped through the crack:
"Some doors should never be opened."