Persephone stood there, her hands clasped in front of her, silent. She reread the gravestone over and over, which said, ‘Here lies Tom Riddle, beloved husband.’ It had a lot of vandalism on it as well. Those read, ‘Evil git’.
She cast a cleaning charm, effectively getting rid of them, and she charmed a small bouquet of flowers, and a small bear onto the grave. A few tears slipped down her cheeks, as she whispered, “I will fall in love with you, over and over again. I don’t care how, where or when. No matter how long it’s been, you’re mine..Just as much as I am yours..”
Persephone had been at Malfoy Manor, when the final battle of the war had transpired. She had realized she was pregnant, and had told him, and he made her stay behind, with the promise that he would be home soon. He never came home. And she found out from Draco Malfoy, who had been there.
She wanted to die in that moment, but Draco had firmly told her that he’d do anything she did to herself to himself. That had put a rather quick end to those thoughts. Persephone was fond of Draco, like she was fond of Harry. She sank to her knees, sitting in front of the gravestone. She pressed three fingers to her lips, before removing them and pressing them to the cold marble, a final goodbye to the man she had fallen in love with, the one who was kind to her, not cold. The one that had made gentle love to her, and would have been the father of her child, had he lived. She then stood, and whispered, “Goodbye, my love. May we find each other in the next life.” Persephone Potter-Riddle then left after that, glancing back one final time at her fallen husband’s grave.