A/N On September first, 1939 Hitler invades Poland. England and France declare war on September third.

"Knight to E4."

Tom frowned, then moved his tower.

"Good one." Alastor grinned, "so, you are Muggleborn, right?"

"Apparently not," Tom said, taking advantage of Alastor's apparent distraction to try and sneak his own knight behind the defence line. "My guardian told me my mother was a witch. She died giving birth to me, so I didn't know before."

"And your father?"

"Don't know. Left my mother, I guess."

"That sucks. My father did that too."

"Oh?" Tom looked up, "you didn't grow up in an orphanage, did you?"

"No," Alastor bit his lip as he noticed the trap Tom had placed for him on the chessboard and pondering a way to avoid it, "my mother remarried."

"So you have a stepfather," Tom concluded.

"Yeah. Well, he's my real Dad now since he adopted me and I took his name and all that. Is your guardian going to adopt you, or isn't he very interested in you? That varies, you know. Mum asked her Uncle to be my guardian before she remarried, but I never saw or heard from him in all my life."

"He's talked about adopting me," Tom admitted, "not sure if he's going to do it."

"Well, if he does, and you like him, you might as well say yes," Alastor offered his advice, "My Dad is the greatest guy in the world. I'm glad he adopted me."

"Didn't your real father have to give permission for that?" Tom asked.

"Technically, but his response was something along the lines of 'what do I care what happens to the brat'. I overheard Mum and Dad talk about it one night when they thought I was asleep."

Tom almost groaned when Alastor skilfully evaded the trap and even managed to force Tom's pieces to retreat. The chess set his guardian had given him was great, but still new so the pieces weren't used to him yet. It would improve with time.

"Are you going to see him, you know, later?" he casually asked Alastor.

"I don't know. Maybe. Why?"

"See who he is. Let him see what you became. Revenge, maybe."

"I used to think about that," Alastor admitted, "but my Dad is right when he says revenge on my father would be a waste of time. My Dad said that any man who is stupid enough not to recognize what a great son they could have had, doesn't deserve that even another thought is wasted on him. And he said wanting revenge will only eat you alive inside, and does no one any good, least of all yourself. I thought it sucked at the time, but I guess he's right."

"It might be nice to see him sometime though, and show him what a great wizard you've become," Tom mused as he moved his Queen out of danger and slowly pushed back onto Alastor's half of the board.

"Yes, but what for? My Dad is the one who encourages me and helps me when I need it. He's the one I want to impress. I want my Dad to be proud of me because, when I do something he likes, he looks at me with a special kind of laugh. That's my Dad. My father is a man who walked away from me and didn't care. Why would I work for someone like that? When I work hard to impress my Dad I get rewarded. Why would I work hard for someone who would spit on it?"

That made Tom think. Showing the father who abandoned him what he could do had been a dream of his, but what Alastor said made sense. What was in it for him? Unbidden, Professor Dumbledore's face and voice drifted into his mind, the slight twinkle in his eyes when Tom managed a difficult Transfiguration, the gentle voice that wished him goodnight. He shook his head to clear it.

"What was the orphanage like?" Alastor asked, "did they beat you and make you work and only feed you gruel?"

"Oh, no," Tom said, "I mean, in some orphanages. But Mrs Cole was quite decent, really. She tried to take care of us. There wasn't always enough food to go around, though, when the rich people didn't donate. Or donated idiotic things."

"Eh?" Alastor gave him a confused stare.

"Like one time, maybe two years ago, a gentleman came in and told Mrs Cole that he paid for a trip for all of us to Brighton, to the seaside."

"What's wrong with that? Holidays are nice," Alastor shrugged.

"I suppose. But at that point there was barely enough food and most of us needed new clothes. And then Mrs Cole not only had to find money somehow to get us new clothes quickly, but also bathing suits and all."

"Couldn't she have told the man that, and ask him to give her the money instead?"

Tom made a face. "Are you kidding? Orphanages can't WANT anything. We have to be properly grateful for everything bestowed upon us. So we were all marched into the office to thank the kind gentleman, who had just made sure that our milk had to be watered down to the point where we could actually see through it and we went from three to two slices of bread a day for a while."

"Ouch," Alastor commented as he moved his bishop, "You won't be returning there, will you? I mean, if your guardian is thinking about adopting you. Check."

"No, I won't go back there," Tom said determined, "So tell me more about your Dad."

"Well, he's a great person, like I said," Alastor's face brightened a little each time he spoke of his Dad, Tom noticed. Strange.

"I was four when he started dating Mum, I guess. At first he just came to visit, or take Mum and me on outings, and later he sometimes took me on my own, too. We had fun. I liked him. On one of those outings he told me that he thought my mother was lovely, and that he would like to marry her. He asked how I felt about it, and I said I thought it was a good idea. So they married, and he treated me like his own son from the first. Even after they had children of their own."

"You have siblings?" Tom asked. That was the first he'd heard of them.

"Yes, three. A sister and two brothers. They're only small, my youngest brother is just a baby. I think he'll be walking when I get home for the summer, he was already crawling at Christmas. Does your guardian have a family?"

"No," Tom said, then added, "at least I don't think so. He's not married as far as I know. Can't imagine he will marry anytime soon either. Check and mate."

"What? Oh, you're right!" Alastor grimaced, "such a bad habit, talking while playing. It was fun though. Want another round?"

Tom shook his head. "No, I have to get back to my dorm, it's getting late and I need to do my Transfiguration essay."

In fact, he still had to start on it. But given that he had never done any homework for that class before, his guardian would be shocked to receive even half a foot of essay from him.

"Do you know much about him – your father, I mean?" Alastor asked as they walked through the almost empty hallways.

"No. My guardian promised he'd try and find out, but he hasn't told me anything."

"You should ask him. Maybe he is afraid that what he found out will hurt you, and won't tell you until you ask for it. Grown-ups are a bit stupid that way sometimes."

Tom nodded, and took a left turn to the Slytherin Common Room, briefly returning Alastor's parting wave.

sssssssssssssss

Albus Dumbledore hummed as he walked into the classroom. He loved his job. Even with the occasional mishap. Why, just the other day young Mulciber had accidentally Transfigured donkey ears on Minerva McGonagall instead of on the book in front of him. The poor girl had glared at Mulciber for the entire time while he removed the ears. She had a strange way of glaring – she'd look all stern and her lips would thin considerably. He imagined she would make a great, and feared, teacher if she chose to go into his own profession.

A note floated in, and he snatched it quickly from the air – the nasty things did have a habit of playing tag with their receivers. Upon reading the contents of the missive, he let out a worried sigh.

The class filed in – first years. Tom's class. Also the last class of the day.

"Today we will start on the theory of Transfiguring living objects. We will not start the actual spellwork for it for quite some time, but the theory is vast and it won't hurt to be prepared. Obviously, when you attempt to Transfigure animals or people, it is extremely dangerous and potentially painful or lethal for whomever it is you are Transfiguring. It must be approached with extreme caution."

After a thorough lecture on the dangers, and then an even longer lecture on the basics of Transfiguring living material, he assigned the class a few chapters to read.

"I will collect your essays now. Everyone who scores an E or higher on this essay, will be exempt from the essay part of your summer assignments."

Excited whispers ran through the class as he passed each child to collect the homework. When he came to Tom, the boy to his immense surprise held out a scroll to him.

Tom had to suppress a gasp. He hadn't quite understood what Alastor was talking about when he said his Dad looked at him with a special kind of laugh when he did something right. Now he did. The look on his guardian's face was definitely meant for him – a small but bright smile that told him the Professor was extremely proud of him.

He barely had time to think about it when the bell rang.

"Tom, stay behind please," Professor Dumbledore said to him.

"Tommy," Albus began when they were alone, "The Ministry finally reacted to my application to adopt you. They will send someone over to talk to both of us next week, and then they'll decide within a few days."

Tom nodded. "What about…my relatives? If any remain, shouldn't they have to give permission? Did you find my father?"

The older man looked down briefly before turning his gaze back to Tom.

"I did. Yes, we had to ask him. I am…I am very sorry, Tom…"

"He wanted nothing to do with me," Tom concluded.

"I'm afraid so," his guardian said softly, "He is a Muggle who distrusts and hates magic. I am sorry, Tom. I should probably have told you before now, but…well, I did not want to hurt you."

Tom nodded. A hand cupped his chin and he looked up into the blue eyes.

"Tom, it is alright to be angry. It is horrible to hear your father does not want you – it's his loss, but still – and it is alright to be angry with me for keeping information about him from you."

"I…I am angry," Tom muttered, "but I guess I should have known. If he wanted me, he would have come looking."

"He is a fool," Dumbledore said with conviction, "for not wanting such a wonderful son."

Tom went red, turned and fled the room, hoping he'd have time to sort out his confusion before the Ministry people came to talk to him.