Tom was waiting this time, sitting in the window of the parlor, watching the street outside for the man who had promised to return after the visit with Albus Dumbledore. He contained his excitement none the less, staying still and watching patiently as the man cut cross the intersection and stepped into the hall, once again claiming a meeting with Mrs. Cole. Tom listened as the man spoke in a low voice, and Mrs. Cole left the room, calling for Missy and the other children to follow her.

After distracting Mrs. Cole and Missy, the man came in and sat down in the parlor with Tom, sipping a cup of tea that he had made appear from no where. Tom now stared in awe of the man for he was fascinated by the magic that he had been so recently introduced to.

"You don't remember me, do you, Tom?" Grindelwald asked. "I mean from when you were small, of course, not our meeting just last month."

"No sir," Tom replied. "We've met before?"

"I knew your mother," Grindelwald said, "Before the mess with your father took place, of course, and heard about the rather upsetting news she had married a -- a non-wizard, shall we say."

"My mother?" Tom asked. He made a face. "My mother is dead."

"Yes, Tom, she is," Grindelwald said, "And she left you in an orphanage for normal people, rather than using her dying moments to see you properly placed - as you ought to have been with wizards. But she wanted you to be normal, you see, or unmagical, rather than extraordinary, as you've got it in yoj to be. Well that's why she came here when there were many other places she could have gone. She fancied giving up magic, Tom."

"Why would anyone give up magic... if they have the choice?"

"Because she was not well in the mind, Tom. Which is what Mrs. Cole knew about her, without knowing of the magic that your mother wished to shed." Grindelwald sipped his tea. "Mrs. Cole fancied you to be abnormal as well because that is what filthy no-magic muggle-born humans - normal people - do when they do not understand someone else. They try to destroy everything that is special and different about them. Do you understand, Tom?"

"Why?"

"Because they are cruel and they do not enjoy being told that things can be different than how they believe things ought to be." Grindelwald said sharply. "They do not think of the Greater Good, only of the Good for Themselves." Grindelwald looked at Tom's cup. "Do you not like your tea? You've barely drank a drop."

"I don't care much for tea, sir."

Grindelwald made a face, then waved his wand and the tea was gone from Tom's cup, replaced by a fizzing gold liquid. "There. Give that a go, you'll prefer it, I think. It's butterbeer. A wizard boy's greatest treat."

Tom sipped and found it was very sweet and he did like it and he marvelled, eyes staring at Grindelwald's wand. "Shall I one day have a wand like yours, sir?"

Grindelwald looked at his wand, then back to the boy. "No one has a wand like mine. It is of its very own sort. But you shall have one, soon, I expect, and it will be your very own and you shall learn to control it, and it shall learn to be controlled by you."

"Can I do magic now, without --"

"You do not remember me, Tom," Grindelwald cut him off, "because I last saw you at a very difficult time in your life. You most likely remember very little of that time, because of the things that the doctors did to you. It was six years ago now, you were only five, and they were attempting to alter your mind. They used a very cruel, very crude muggle procedure, since they were muggle doctors that did not know about the magical properties of your conditon. They believed it was a muggle disease called schizophrenia. But what you had, Tom, was actually an obscurial."

"Obscurial?"

"Yes, Tom." Grindelwald sipped his tea and ran his fingers over the phoenix head of his cane. "They went about it all wrong, and that made me very, very angry when I heard about what happened. You see, non-magical creatures do not know what obscurials are, and so they believed they could simply cut out a part of you and that it somehow makes you whole or better if you're just incomplete. Luckily. I heard about what they were doing, and I came at once and I made sure that nasty doctor would never practice that on you - or any other little wizard or witch - ever again. I made sure of that."

The glint of his eye made Tom know without a doubt that doctor was no longer alive.

And he smiled.

"Good."

"Yes, very good." Grindelwald smiled, too. "No filth like that ought to be allowed to get away with their crimes. Now, I am looked down upon by my fellow wizards for having this view on the matter, which is most unfair. I only aim for the Greater Good and by simply seeing that man was punished and kept from ever inflicting such harm on others again, I have been sent out from acceptable society." He stared at Tom.

"What did they do to me?" Tom asked.

"It matters less what they did and more what I did. You see, I used magic to repair the damage they had done so that you can have a proper magical education, so that you can be trained and live the life you deserve, free from the sufferings of your obscurial."

"And what is an obscurial, sir?"

"When a magical person is forced to repress their power - or in the case of your mother, chooses such a nonsense thing - the magic builds up within them. Too much power builds up and the magic must be expelled in some way, and so there's a sort of explosive quality to a person, which is how you have been able to perform some of the little tricks you have on your own. Your mother had an obscurial of her own creation that lived within her during the time she was carrying you, Tom, and I believe that you may well have been born carrying a good deal of that pent up power that she'd repressed so that, in a sort of way, you became her obscurial. But you have also been repressed and, Tom, I believe you carry two obscurial forms. Merope's and your own."

Tom stared at Grindelwald. He had never known his own mother's name until that very moment.

"I understand it's quite a lot and a very challenging concept for a young man like yourself..."

"No, I understand. But what does it mean, sir?"

"It means I'm terribly fascinated by you. I have dedicated a good deal of my life looking at obscurial powers, and how to channel such power from a destructive nature to a powerful source. You see, I believe that, when released, obscurials are greater empowered... I have seen witches and wizards destroy cities with the release of their obscurial... Unchecked, the power release is deadly at best, but, Tom, I believe, too, that if cared for soon enough and in the proper manner, the power can be harnessed and can be used to do great things beyond the wildest imaginings of the greatest among us. I believe your obscurials may make it possible to become the greatest, the most powerful wizard there ever was... if properly looked after."

Tom stared in awe at Grindelwald.

He could be the most powerful wizard there ever was? Him? Tom Riddle?

"And why not?" Grindelwald answered his thoughts. "Why not you, Tom?" He smiled, leaned forward, and stared at the boy carefully. Then, "Do you still have the money clip you stole from me?"

Tom nodded.

"Fetch it."

Grindelwald waited as the boy got up and left the room. He came back shortly thereafter, clip in hand. Grindelwald held out his palm.

"You told me I could have it," Tom said childishly.

"And you shall have it," Grindelwald said. He wagged his fingers, inviting Tom to trust him and to give him the money clip.

Tom dropped it into his palm.

Grindelwald smiled, took his wand and tapped the clip. The eye of the phoenix blinked - Tom's jaw dropped as he looked at it - and Grindelwald stared directly into it, winking and holding it up as though looking through a keyhole. The phoenix bird opened its mouth - Tom astonished it seemed the clip had simply yawned open - and from within it's mouth there came a small red vial. Grindelwald took the vial, reached into his suit-coat pocket, withdrew a small box, and dropped the vial into it. Then he closed the box and put it away, snapped the money clip's mouth shut with his thumb, and handed it back to Tom.

"What was that vial?" Tom asked.

"My most beloved possession."

"That? It was small."

"It only appeared small."

"It looked like blood."

Grindelwald stared at him for a long moment. Then he said, "Tom, I have a terribly immense favor to ask of you."

Tom looked up at Grindelwald.

"Now, normally, I would not ask anyone of such a favor - for it is a very difficult job. But you, Tom, you are no ordinary boy... you are special and clever. These people at this home do not understand how important you are, but I do. I know about your obscurials, and I know that now that you have been asked to Hogwarts that you'll receive proper training, and therefore you will learn how to harness their power and I know that although today I stand before you and you look at me as if I am impressive... one day I shall stand before you for you shall be more impressive."

Tom's eyes were hunger-filled, though he tried to keep a straight expression.

"I thought, perhaps, you might do me a favor Tom, t repay me for what I have done to protect you in the past, from that terrible doctor of Mrs. Cole's... and in return, I shall continue to protect you from Mrs. Cole as well."

"Continue to protect me?" Tom's eyes flashed. "I will be gone to Hogwarts! I won't need protection anymore!"

Grindelwald nodded, "But Albus Dumbledore is so cruel and so heartless that, even knowing what you go through here, he will still send you back during the holidays."

Tom stared at Grindelwald and his fists shook.

"I will see to it you are safe, Tom, so that she may not hurt you, so that you are properly taken care of." Grindelwald gave a sad smile of pity and kindness. "But I just ask of one small favor in return - it is not much, as I say, but it is important and only the most clever boy will do. Well, that is you, Tom."

"What is it? This favor?"

"I need you to keep an eye on Albus Dumbledore for me while you are at school... and tell me everything there is to know about your time there at Hogwarts, so that I can be sure the old fool is properly training you, so that I can help you keep the balance of the obscurials, of course."

Tom thought for a moment. "So I would be like... a spy?"

"As I said - you're very clever!"

"And how would I tell you what is happening? Would I write a letter?"

"Oh no, no Tom. No. You could contact me through another friend of mine... You would talk with him, and he would then relay the message to me... you see? And if it should be I who need to talk to you... Well." Grindelwald rubbed the top of the phoenix head cane, his thumb right on the ruby.

The money clip in Tom's hand warmed suddenly and Tom looked at it in surprise.

"I can summon you and when you feel that burning, you will know to go and see our friend for a message."

Tom looked very impressed.

Grindelwald smiled.

"And who is your friend? Is he a teacher at Hogwarts?"

Grindelwald smiled, "No. He is - well, this will sound quite confusing to you, since you have not yet been to the school, but I promise you it is not as funny as it shall seem..."

"What?"

"He is a portrait. A portrait of a very famous wizard. You see, portraits at Hogwarts can talk and they can move about from one portrait of themselves to another, and they can be quite helpful in relaying messages and the like. So you would talk with the portrait of my friend at Hogwarts... and he would, in turn, come to the portrait of himself that I have at home. Then, whatever you tell him, he can tell me... and vice-versa, when I have a message for you, I can use that money clip to let you know, and you will go and see him and he will tell you my message."

"He is very famous?" Tom asked.

"One of the most famous wizards of all time," Grindelwald answered.

"Who is he?"

"His name is Cadmus Peverell."

"That is a funny name," Tom said. He had expected it to be Merlin, for that was the name of a wizard who he thought to be very famous.

Grindelwald nodded. "It is a funny name. He was alive during a very different time, when names like Cadmus were a bit more common... But he is helping me with another small project I have been working on, and I am helping him to locate an object he once lost, an object that I desperately need, and we worry that Albus Dumbledore may have stolen it... This object in the right hands is so powerful as to be dangerous... and in the wrong hands - in Dumbledore's hands - it would be terribly so. That is part of the reason I need a clever man at Hogwarts to keep an eye on him."

Tom nodded.

"It's an important job, Tom, but I trust you would be able to help me... You're such a clever boy."

"I can do it, sir."

Grindelwald smiled.