saturday sun. [tomie]

August 2003

After talking about it for nearly forever, they had finally gone to Hogwarts, Tomie, and Benny had become pure and official Gryffindors. They had made many friends, practiced their magic, and even traveled to a summer school in Vermont! The duo had earned some things too. Like what not to mix in potions and how to throw a punch (Tomie more than Benny, on that last one). And to the little wizard, it felt like it had all happened in an eye's blink. Like he got on the Hogwarts Express, he took a breath, and now he was returning home from Summer School to the August heat in London.

Even though it had only been a year, Benny felt like he was coming home a totally different person. He might have only barely grown height-wise, but he felt like he knew so much more than he did back then. It was like they had gone down the rabbit hole and returned better, smarter, stronger even. Benny could talk about Hogwarts, the preteen was one of the 'older' students in the estate now, and that was a powerful feeling of the twelve-year-old. They may have been fully-fledged Hogwarts students now, but Warren was still as much of a weasel, thinking he had the upper hand, always trying to trick or get them into trouble.

Today all of that would change.

Today they had caught him in the alley outback, sipping on something that was only for adults, and the blackmailing tables had quickly turned. Benny had thought they might get something out of it, a cool comic or dibs on the hot water, but Tomie had an even better idea, and he quickly joined the cause. "It's either that or we tell," Benny said, folding his hands in front of his puffed chest and pretending to be tougher than everyone knew he was. Eventually, Warren gave in and traded their silence for one of the alcopops he'd been drinking with his older (meaner) friends. Tomie and Benny left happy and with the (not so) cleverly concealed bottle underneath Benny's button-up plaid shirt they snuck up to the attic.

How much alcohol did it take to get drunk, anyway? Tomie wondered if they’d feel it right away, or if it would take a while. They weren’t really allowed out of their building today, and even the alleyway they’d found Warren in – the smelly, graffiti’d one between their building and the one beside it – was technically off limits. Regardless, Weasel Warren and his stupid friends had used up that good space, so the only place they'd come up with where they probably wouldn’t be seen was the attic. Hopefully the boggart infestation had been cleared out while they’d been at camp, like the paper notices everyone had received said it would be. Their building manager wasn’t a very trustworthy guy, though – at least that’s what Tomie’s mum always said. So who knew what they'd find up there.

Tomie followed Benny up the stairs two at a time, trying (and failing) not to look too suspicious. Luckily, the concrete staircase was empty this afternoon. Only the sounds of their ratty sneakers hitting the steps echoed against the concrete walls. Before long, they were right at the top floor. The attic floor was supposed to be locked all of the time – but it never was. There was an old ghoul that lived up here, but the attic was very large, and he mostly stayed in the far corner. Tomie pushed the door open and took a careful step inside.

“Um, lights?” she asked hesitantly, her hesitation turning to triumph as a few lights responded to her voice and switched on to reveal their immediate area. The room was huge, more like the size of a hall than a room, with a very tall ceiling. Only the lights immediately above them came on, which meant that there were only a few meters between them and murky darkness. They were surrounded by lots of precariously piled crates and boxes, and there were lockable wire cages on either side that she assumed some of the residents used for storage. “I’m glad they fixed that,” she said, pointing up at one of the yellowish lights hanging from the ceiling. She shut the door behind her friend, glancing as he drew the bottle out from under his shirt.

She couldn’t help but let out a gleeful chortle thinking of Warren’s annoyed expression when they’d successfully blackmailed him out of one of his drinks. "Lemme look at it again," she said, holding her hand out for the bottle. At first, she'd thought it was a beer. But the colour wasn't right; it was a proper lemony yellow, not the colour of, like, apple juice. "Doesn't look like there are any boggarts," she added brightly.

Watching the lights come on Benny hoped that more than just the circle around them would illuminate, even though he knew they wouldn't, and when they didn't he frowned a little. The little Gryffindor followed his best friend into the attic and squinted into the darkness that made a creepy ring around them. "Yeah, yeah, me too..." Benny's eyes followed Tomie's pointer finger to the tall ceiling and quickly trailed away from the light to the cobweb-clad rafters. He was pretty sure there were more than just dust bunnies up there. The room was big, big enough that Benny could imagine all sorts of creepy things lurking in the shadows of piled crates and old portmanteaus but he pushed those fears down. Instead, he focussed on the bottle of, well he wasn't really sure, that they had gotten out of Warren and brought with them.

Being frightened, but being able to keep moving forward, was probably the reason he'd been sorted into Gryffindor in the end. Benny wasn't brave like Tomie, or even JR, but he was motivated. Moving further into the room he pulled the bottle back out and held it toward her to grab. He had never had alcohol of any variety, so he wasn't sure what to expect but he remembered what beer smelled like after last years Christmas party. One of the neighbors had spilled one on the hallway carpet outside of his apartment and it had stunk for two days before someone did a cleaning spell. It wasn't exactly an appetizing smell, but as always, Benny was down for any and all adventures Tomie and he could cook up. At least it wasn't cigarettes this time.

"I've got my wand, just in case." They both knew he couldn't use it but Benny was more so saying it for any boggarts (or other beings) that might be creeping in the dark. He said the words a little louder than he needed to, his voice carrying across the attic as he looked past Tomie and into the darkness again. Turning his gaze back to her as she inspected the bottle he spoke once more. "Are we going to get really drunk?" Benny knew the word from times his father had come back from the bar, it didn't happen often, but it was memorable when it did.

“Lucky,” Tomie said, squinting a little as one of the lights above them flickered and went out as she tried to read the label on the bottle. “Mum took mine.” Her wand had been confiscated basically as soon as she’d arrived home from school. She hadn’t asked if the cigarette thing from last summer had had anything to do with it, but she could only assume that it did. Tomie’s parents had been especially strict this summer, and when she hadn’t been at camp, she’d been helping out in the shop a couple of hours almost every day. Her parents had even gone so far as to say no to letting her go to friends’ houses or birthday parties. She sighed. At least they never said no to Benny; their parents were pretty good friends by now, and they lived so close to each other that it’d be impossible.

The brunette moved some things around so they could sit on a couple of sturdy-looking boxes across from each other. The dust made her cough a couple of times and there was a creepy-looking doll staring at her from behind some old-looking suitcases, but she tried to ignore it; this was exciting! An adventure! “You know, I’m not sure?” Tomie said, intonating like she was asking a question. She looked up at Benny, nodding at the makeshift seat she’d procured for him. “Like, we’re pretty short, right? So we’ll be affected more? But also different alcohol is different strengths, right? So…” she glanced at the bottle again.

With what she hoped seemed like a casual shrug, Tomie unscrewed the lid. It made a hiss like a fizzy drink and when Tomie sniffed it, she briefly wondered if they’d been duped. Weasel warren was going to be dead as a dodo if that was the case, she thought distantly. “Smells like lemon,” she said, offering the little bottle to Benny for a sniff. Tomie brushed some dust off her basketball shorts, a smile creeping in as she reflected on what they were doing. Her parents didn’t really drink, at least not that she’d ever seen. They definitely weren’t a one-glass-with-dinner kind of family like a lot of Europeans seemed to be, despite her father’s Dutch heritage. So this was really the first chance she’d had to try some alcohol. “Wanna go first?” she asked conspiratorially.

Benny's eyes grew a bit wide when Tomie told him (probably for the fourth time) that her parents had taken her wand away. Benny left his at home when they went to summer camp, but he'd gotten it back when he returned. The wizard was thankful his parents hadn't taken it away, but it wasn't like they hadn't punished him for last year's incident. He'd had a long list of chores since he got home from Vermont, and it seemed it was still growing. He wasn't allowed to go to Tomie's parent's shop unless sent explicitly by his parents. And he wasn't really allowed outside of the estate building either.

Following her to where she was moving things around to make a little spot for them, Benny kept his eyes peeled, glancing from the dusty boxes to the darkness beyond their rim of light and imagining some creature galumphing straight for them. He blinked a few times, the lights above them, keeping his eyes from adjusting, and then turned back to her and tried to think only about the alcohol they were about to try. Anxious, excited, and a little bit scared seemed to be his resting pace whenever they got into any sort of adventures, and he was starting to accept that. Benny was nervous, but also he was interested in finding out what all the fuss was about. Like he had with the cigarettes and the ear piercings, he was convincing himself silently that it must have been worth it if all the adults did it.

"Yeah, we're probably going to get really drunk then," Benny told her instead of defending his short stance. He didn't think he was short! But then he remembered that all of the girls and most of the boys were taller than him (and Tomie too) so he didn't mention it. Leaning in to smell it, Benny scrunched his face a little at the strong scent. "Smells like cleaning potions," he told her honestly, but not because he was going to back out or anything. "Um, sure.." he said hesitantly but took the bottle from her hands. Benny took one more whiff of it, but realized that was the wrong idea, and then tilted the bottle back and took the first drink.

He held it too long before swallowing, handing the bottle back to her as he pulled a face. The alcohol hitting his taste buds like a steamroller and burning a little on the way down. "It, um, it tastes like cleaning potions." He told her before giggling a little, wondering if it was already working, and convincing himself it must have been.

Tomie didn’t say anything when she caught Benny’s look, and was grateful he didn’t say anything either. It was a miracle she’d been allowed to go to camp at all, really, given that incident last summer. She scuffed her feet on the wooden floorboards, kicking up a little dust cloud before realising, and stopping. There was a quiet noise from inside the attic, and she glanced in its direction. Hopefully the attic-ghoul would stay in his corner. Mad as a march hare, that one was. Mad as a hatter, even.

“Yeah, probably,” Tomie replied with a grin, turning back to Benny. How long did drunkenness last, anyway? A long as it had worn off by the time they had to go back home – not for several hours – then that would be fine. There was absolutely no way Tomie was getting caught for this one. She had no desire to be chained in her bedroom for the rest of summer (or her life). Or, you know, murdered by her parents. At school she could almost be whoever she wanted to be, but at home there were so many more rules and expectations. 

“Do you think?” Tomie asked curiously, thinking it smelled more like a lemony soft drink to her. She’d had an entire cup of coffee at camp the night she and Shelby had snuck out; surely this couldn’t be worse than that, she thought. At least if it was super disgusting and they decided to back out, Tomie wouldn’t be too embarrassed. Benny was like her brother, after all. Sure, she’d felt super close to Shelby at camp, but she’d known the Ravenclaw for less than a year! Tomie wouldn’t have backed down from anything in front of the other girl; there was more to prove, there. More need to be impressive.

“Gimme,” she said, holding a hand out impatiently. Tomie laughed when Benny did, feeling a bit high off of the adrenaline that always came hand-in-hand with breaking the rules. She sniffed the drink before she had some, too, thinking once again that it smelled more like lemon than cleaning product. She took a sip, a thoughtful expression on her face as she swallowed. “I don’t think it’s that bad,” she said. “Kinda tastes like Barr’s lemonade, just…. kinda… off?” Tomie took another, bigger sip. “Like the aftertaste is bad, but the first taste is like lemonade.” Tomie passed the bottle back, the bad aftertaste she'd just described lingering in her mouth.

Benny shrugged at her assessment and took another drink when she handed it back to him. Maybe it was the over powering smell of lemon at first that had made him think of cleaning products but when she'd likened it to a lemonade his taste buds shifted more that way. The aftertaste was awful, he puckered at it, but the beginning wasn't so bad, he supposed. "I don't know it smells like the cleaning potions my mum cooks up, but your right, it's kind of like juice." Adult juice, how cool were they? Benny smiled at the thought and stole another sip before handing it back to her. He could get used to it, he figured, as he sat back on the boxes behind him and got a bit more comfortable.

The attic was weird and a bit spooky but there was something especially fun about that too. Technically they weren't supposed to be up here, but technically they weren't supposed to leave the apartment building and they hadn't. It was a loophole and Benny was swan diving through it. They were Gryffindors after all, adventurers, bold and brave and although he sometimes acted contrary-wise Benny loved the adrenaline that came from breaking the rules.

"Lola is going to take me into Diagon this weekend, need a few more things off that list the Hogwarts owl dropped off. Think your parents will let you come?" He asked after he'd settled in and passed the juice back to her with a half smile, a little bit of hope in his words. Like Tomie's family Benny's didn't have a lot of spare sickles, but when it came to school supplies most of his were either bought second hand or brand new. Perks of being the oldest, there was no one to get hand-me-downs from. He held his hand out for the drink after she'd taken another sip and waited.

Maybe it tasted good and sugary at the start to make you want to drink it more after you’d had a sip? To get the bad taste out? To Tomie, this seemed like quite a valid business strategy. She wished she’d thought of it.

Tomie held her hand out for the bottle again, feeling confident as she took another, deeper sip. “Ooooh, if your oma’s going then maybe,” she said, perking up at the idea. She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm.  Tomie liked Lola, and all of Benny’s family loved her, so she tended to feel pretty comfortable around them. “I don’t need anything, but I’d love to come. Oh, and I forgot to tell you, but Dad said you can get your quills from the shop again.” A part of her suspected that his mother was convinced they’d grow up and get married one day, but whatever – Lucy was lovely too.

“You know one thing I never really thought about,” Tomie said, dangling the bottle between two fingers, her elbow rested casually on her leg. “most people get their own wands new, right? So what happens to all of the other wands...? Oh." She took a quick second sip and passed back the bottle. "...Like in my family, our family usually keeps the wands – yours is the same, right? – and we pass them on, but like, what do other people do– ?” She stopped talking immediately as there was a quiet rustling sound somewhere in the dark behind Benny. “...Mouse?” she asked dubiously.

Hearing that she might be able to come to Diagon with them Benny perked up a little, a bright smile on his dimpled cheeks, and he held the bottle back out to her. He'd taken another sip and it was starting to taste less lemony the more he took, but he wouldn't quite go so far as to say he actually liked the way it tasted. At least, not yet, but he was convinced there had to be a reason why the adults were always drinking things like this. Sometimes they looked like they were having fun, so he hoped they would have fun too. Benny leaned back against his makeshift seat as Tomie told him he could get his quills from her father's shop, a quick nod, and another smile, served as his response and he told himself to remember to let his mother know. He'd forget, of course.

"What's that?" Benny asked in between her words as he watched her casually holding on to the bottle of alcohol and thinking she looked as cool as the adults did when they were drinking. Maybe that was a part of the appeal? He wondered if she felt cooler as his own skin began to tingle little. Reaching forward to get the bottle Benny's shoes slid slightly on the dust that had collected over generations on the old wooden floor but he caught himself. He leaned back again, instead of just finding a seat closer to her, and his head tilted to the side in thought as he sipped. "Hmm," he began, taking a sip, and shrugging his shoulders. "Yeah we keep them all, pass em' down. Mine belonged to my lolo, Benjia, before me." Benny had always found the stories behind the wands in his family fascinating, and fun to listen to, it was one of the few stories he would sit still for when their grandmother felt like telling it. And it was especially interesting when he'd found out Tomie's family had been doing the same thing, like it was another thing that connected them.

The second part of her ponder had him really shrugging though, because it was true, he'd seen so many students his age this time last year at the wand shop in Diagon. He'd even heard his father curse under his breath when one of them accidentally blasted out a window and nearly gave them all free hair cuts. So where did all the old wands go? "Maybe they are sold back to Ollivander?" Or there was a more ghastly idea, Benny's smirk widened a little and the idea of it, and he spoke again. "Or maybe," He paused for dramatic effect and leaned forward again to hand the bottle back to her. "They take them to their graves," he whispered. It would have been funny, light hearted even, except for the creepy sound that went off behind Tomie that caused Benny to jump out of his seat.

"Yeah, yeah a mouse, definitely," He said as he craned his neck to peer behind her and into the darkness. He wished he had his wand, one year and he already felt strange without it at the ready. Besides, they could really use a flashlight right now. Settling down Benny moved to sit back down, a sense of relief in his voice as he calmed down, and spoke. "So long as its not the Bogg--" it happened again! The little Gryffindor covered his mouth to stifle a scared squeak as something absolutely ran from one side of the attic to the other. "Tomie..." he started, but just stared off in the distance instead of finishing the sentence.

Sold back to the wandmaker? That sort of made sense, she thought, It didn’t really feel like there was an abundance of “dragon heartstrings” lying around. Then again, how many heartstrings could one collect from a single dragon? It wasn’t something she’d really thought about before, but it suddenly seemed kind of… sinister.

“Ooooh,” Tomie said, nodding before accepting the drink, and taking a quick little swig. She wished she could keep her own wand over the summer, but it’d basically been confiscated at the platform when they’d arrived. The young witch thought this was terribly unfair – didn’t they trust their own daughter?? Then again, as she passed the glass bottle (nearing emptiness now!) back to Benny, she considered that maybe – maybe – her mum had a point.

Tomie shot up to her feet too, the crate she’d been sitting on scraping backwards and fluffing up a bit of dust as she did so. “What the…?” She frowned, straining her eyes to see in the darkness to no avail. The light above them flickered and she felt her heart racing in her chest. She stayed up, turning slowly, waiting for the critter or whatever it was to show itself. Did she suddenly have a fear of little crawly things, and a boggart was here to freak them out??

Benny's eyes grew wilder as Tomie (the braver of the two) shot up from her seat to stand next to him. He was freaked out now, truly and fully, as something scurried around in the darkness. He wished again that he had his wand but Benny quickly made other arrangements. He looked behind him for a second, eyeballing their surroundings, and picked up an old wooden cane that was probably leftover from some elderly resident ages ago. Holding it up toward the shadows he pretended it was a sword or something and tried to be courageous. Something fell off of a stack of boxes, it crashed to the floor but Benny couldn't tell what it was.

"It's moving," he said in a hurried whisper to Tomie as he moved to stand right beside her. He'd never presume to stand in front, they fought all of their battles side by side, it was how it had always been and how it always would be. "Wait, over there!" Benny used his antique wooden stick to point it out as the noise moved from one side of the attic to the other and then realized it was moving closer and closer to them. He stood his ground, maybe it was the alcohol (probably not, they'd only had a half a bottle after all) but Benny certainly felt a bit more confident than usual.

"Don't come any closer, or we'll..." he didn't know what to say. If it was a ghost or a boggar they would probably know better but he went with a weak threat anyway, "We'll hex you into next week!"

“Yeah, with our wands,” Tomie added unconvincingly, half trying to sound threatening and half making a joke; she didn’t even have a fake wand to brandish. The skittering seemed to slow, then stop, and there was something moving just there, just outside the light. She tensed, ready to punch it or whatever (just ask Matty, she thought valiantly) she needed to do. A protective part of her wanted to step in front of Benny and –

“Oh, Benny... look.” Liking cute stuff was for girls – well, for other girls – but there was no getting around it; it was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. Tomie crouched down instinctively, taking in the matted greyish fur, the big grey eyes, plumed tail... plumed tail? It looked like it wanted to pounce but it was small enough it could have fit in her hands. “It must be mixed,” she thought; normal cats didn’t have tails like that, and its ears were a little too long.

"Wait, Tomie, don't" it could have rabies his mum's voice rang in the back of his head and he stepped forward a little as Tomie scooped the little creature into her hand. Sure he was glad it wasn't a ghost or a zombie or something worse but also a little curious. It was so small it had to be newly born, and if so, where was the rest of it's litter? Where was it's mother? Benny didn't need to be an aspiring magizoologist to know that typically pups and kittens came with mothers not far behind. Mothers that typically didn't like human interference. He wanted to tell Tomie to stop, to put it down, but he couldn't. It was so cute.

Benny moved to stand next to her, still keeping an eye on the shadows and expecting the mother to pop out of the darkness any moment. "Is it... a cat?" He asked but Tomie answered almost as he was asking, assuming it was mixed, and Benny nodded quietly. "Glad you weren't a ghost," he said as he used the hand not holding a makeshift weapon to give the critter a quick little pet.

Tomie couldn’t stop staring as it moved closer. She reached her hands out very slowly and it came even closer, clearly curious. Carefully, she scooped it up in her hands. The cat didn’t seem to mind, but Tomie had never had a cat before, let alone one that was clearly more than a normal cat; she wasn’t sure what to do. “It’s fine,” she said, triumph mingling with adoration in her expression.

She held it close to her chest and it started pawing at her t-shirt, making little tears in the material with its adorable little claws. “I think it’s part knea…” she paused, “What are they? Kneazles?” She glanced at Benny but only for a second before she was looking back at the little creature. He’d gotten his teeny paw stuck on a thread.

He tolerated Benny's pats for a moment, but then tried to claw his finger and Tomie couldn't help but laugh. "He likes me better," she said, trying not to sound too smug. "I love him," she declared, her eyes very round as she stared at the fluffy critter.

"Yeah, something like that," Benny said with a nod though he could have been wrong. He'd never had a kneazle or really even been around one but looking at this one he wondered what (other than the fluffy tail) really set them apart from regular cats. Were they magical? Should he be worried? When the little thing started pawing at his hand Benny pulled away and made a snorting sound at Tomie's comment. Partly a laugh, also partly jealous that it didn't seem to like him and trying to hide the fact.

Instead of trying to pet it again the twelve year old moved away and set his cane down on the boxes he'd been sitting near. Finding the bottle of beer they'd brought up here he took another swig and then inspected how close they were to the end, maybe a few more drinks each, and he was starting to convince himself he was feeling it. (He probably wasn't).

"Think it's mum is up here some where?" he said as he set the bottle down closer to where Tomie was standing and squinted into the dark corners of the attic again.