Pling. Pling. Pling.
Tom Riddle slowly shook his head. What a confusing noise! He wondered where it came from.
Pling. Pling. Pling.
It sounded like a dripping tap. He should better turn it off. Slowly the young man rose from the armchair he did not remember sitting down in. He generally did not remember much. How weird.
Pling. Pling. Pling.
Well, he could wonder about that later. First, he had to turn that tap off. Weirdly enough his feet seemed to know the way into the kitchen, where the tap was dripping, even though he could not recall anything in this house. With very few steps he had reached the tap and swiftly turned its knobs. The dripping stopped. A thin smile appeared on Tom’s lips. Very good.
On top of the kitchen counter there stood a little photograph. It showed a family. Carefully Tom picked it up and looked at the tiny, waving figures. There he stood and he had a young, grinning boy on his arm. And next to him… next to him stood Merope Gaunt. The tramp's daughter.
Tom had always pitied Merope. Unlike her creepy brother and dirty father, she did not seem very happy about her live in that shack. Cecilia and he had even talked to Merope sometimes. Cecilia had once shared her cake with her. Cecilia loved helping the poor.
Tom's eyes wandered back to the photo. Why did the boy on his arm look like his son? And why was Merope Gaunt standing where his wife was supposed to stand? Wasn't that Cecilia’s place? He loved Cecila, the memory of that was clearer than all the others. What was going on here? Confused Tom grabbed a glass and filled it with tap water, quickly drinking the cold liquid.
That was when the memories came back. Memories of Merope offering him a glass of shimmering water on a hot day, after he had been riding. The water had smelled like his dear Cecilia, for some reason. Memories of a drunk like state and a weird desire. Memories of running away and a hasty wedding. Memories of Cecilia screaming after them, crying. Memories of slim, small, misshapen hands. Hands all over him, hands on places where he surely wouldn't want her hands to end up.
And with the memories, there came the pain. An awful stinging sensation in his chest. Suddenly, Tom felt awfully nauseous. He stumbled back. The glass of water shattered on the floor.
Tears collected in his eyes, but he was in such agony that he didn't even feel them fall. On weak legs he fled from the kitchen and collapsed onto a wonky couch in the living room. His whole body was shaking. What had happened to him? Why did he hurt so badly. And why, oh why had he not fought back, when Merope had put her cold hands on him? Her hands with jagged nails and small scars, that looked nothing like Cecilia’s.
He felt so dirty. So dirty! Why had this happened to him? What had been in that water, that made him think he wanted this? And why did it hurt so bad?
He had to get out of here! He had to get away, before Merope came bag. Before she had a chance to drug him again.
“Daddy, are you okay? Why are you crying, are you hurt?”, a small voice asked suddenly. Tom flinched. Right, he had a son. He had seen him on the picture on the kitchen, and now, that he saw him, that little, big eyed, copy of himself, he remembered him. He was called Tom Marvolo Riddle. Merope had named him all alone, and Tom himself had not been allowed to give his own suggestions, not that he had minded in hid drunk-like state.
Suddenly Tom wanted to see the boy, his boy, smile. The worried expression just had to leave his face. Seeing him worried added so much sadness to the pain and fear, that Tom thought he would just break apart. “No, my little champion, I’m... I’m not injured.”, he said. Because he was hurt. Oh, so hurt, but his boy, his champion didn’t need to know that.
The boy tilted his head to the side in a way that reminded Tom a lot of his dear mother. Oh, Mary Riddle would surely love that boy! “Then why are you crying, daddy?”, inquired the child and sniffled. His nose was all red, a thick blanket was wrapped around his slim shoulders, and he looked pale. Was he sick?
Tom tried to think of a way to explained himself, without upsetting the small child. How was he supposed to say, that he had been drugged? That he never loved his son's mother. “Um, well, champ, you see...”, he started, but trailed off. “Did you forget to drink your special tea, daddy?”, Tom jr. asked, as he wrapped the blanket tighter around himself.
Toms head snapped upwards. “Special tea?”, he asked, his voice trembling. “Yes, daddy! Mommy says...”, the boy coughed, “Well mommy says you have to drink your special tea twice a day, or you won't be happy anymore!” Tom Riddle suddenly felt very cold.
“I don’t think that’s tea, champion.”, he muttered, trying his best not to keep crying in front of his son. “Is it a potion? Mommy is very good at making potions. She is in the city to gather ingredients for one right now. Against my cold, you know.” Potions? Yes, the people, down in the village, had always called the Gaunts witches and wizards and Tom and Cecilia had seen Merope talking to a snake at some point, but that surely didn’t mean that magic was real, right? He tried to remember if he had seen Merope do magic, but the memories were too fuzzy.
“Is she huh?”, Tom replied. That would at least mean, that she was away for now. “Yes, she is!” Tommy sneezed. “She told us! Just one or two hours ago. Don’t you remember?” Tom nodded. One or two hours. She surely would be back soon. “Pack your things, champion, we are leaving.”, Tom ordered and rose from the couch on shaking legs. Tom jr.’s eyes went even wider. “Leaving? But why? Won’t we wait for mommy?” The young man violently shook his head. “No. Pack only the most important things. Leave everything you can’t carry on your own behind. We will buy you new things. Go!”
But Tom Marvolo still did not move even one step. “Who is we?”, he demanded to know and wiped his little, red nose on his sleeve. “Your grandparents and I.”, Tom answered curtly. “But... but mommy said granny and grandpa hate us!”, his son squeaked shocked. “No, they don’t. They would never. She lied.”
Tears started to run down little Tommys pale cheeks. “Daddy, Daddy!”, he wailed, “Why are you so weird, all of a sudden? Why do we have to leave?”
“Trust me, champion, I have to get out of here, and I bet it’s not save for you either, when she realizes that I’m gone. The Gaunts were always violent.”, Tom explained with shaking words, while he began to search the drawers for his money and checkbook. Suddenly something heavy collided with his legs. Tom jr. sobbed. “But daddy, daddy why? I’m scared, daddy! Can’t you just drink your special tea and be happy again. I want you to be happy again. You are scaring me!”
“I won’t drink that stuff ever again.”, Tom muttered while shoving his wallet and checkbook into the pockets of his suit. His fearful eyes flickered to the door. She could come back at any moment. The grip on his legs became stronger. “But daddy, don’t you want to be happy?”, Tommy sobbed.
Tom forced himself to calm down and crouched down on the floor, gathering his crying son into his arms. “You know, I was happy, my little champion. Very happy. But that was before I met Merope. And back then I did not need a potion to be happy. All I needed was a horse, the forest, fresh air and good company. That was when I was happiest.”, he whispered, feeling the tears return to his eyes with full force.
Tom Marvolo’s slim arms wrapped themselves around his father’s neck so tightly that it became difficult to breathe. “But if you were happy without mommy... Was it a love potion, daddy?”, he sobbed, “Mr. Borgin read me a story about a love potion once, while mommy looked for ingredients...” Slowly Tom nodded, as he stroked his son's hair. “Maby it was.”
“But that means she trapped you! The wizard in the story trapped the young maiden with the potion. He was evil!”, cried the young boy. “That’s why we need to leave, champion. Go on, pack your bags. Only things you can carry.”, Tom whispered and released his son from the embrace. “What about Miss Noodles. She is too heavy; I can’t carry her!”, inquired Tommy, wiping his eyes and coughing loudly.
“Miss... Miss Noodles?”, Tom asked, while he already began to stuff some jackets from the wardrobe into a pillowcase. “Yes, Miss Noodles, my snake friend. Don’t you remember her? Mommy stole her from the zoo for me!”, Tommy screeched from what was probably his room. Tom rolled his eyes and slipped into a coat. “Of course, your pet can come. Just make sure she behaves!”, he jelled back.
According to the big grandfather clock in the corner, packing only took them ten minutes. Tommy had apparently stuffed half his room into two large bags he could barely carry and had tied the rest to a massive, surely five-meter-long, snake that slithered next to him.
Of course, Miss Noodles could not be a cute little garden snake, like Tom had seen them in the Manor’s flower beds from time to time. What had he expected from an animal, that a Gaunt had supplied? “She says, she will be very nice, daddy.”, Tom jr. proudly announced and petted the monster's head. “Sure.”, Tom muttered, “Do you have everything? Let’s go.”
He was shivering, as they made their way through the apartment house. What if she came back right now? While they descended the stairs, he almost dropped his pillowcase and the large trunk, he had found under the bed. He really did not want to think about that bed.
As soon as he stepped into the sun, he felt better. With each meter that they walked, the fear eased. When Tom, his son, and the massive snake that had wrapped herself around their shoulders, all sat in a taxi, speeding towards Little Hangleton, his hands were barely shaking anymore. Maybe everything would be good again one day.
Tommy stuck his head out of the car’s window and giggled. “I love this muggle broom, daddy! Do granny and grandpa have one too?”, he squealed. Tom smiled at his son. “Of course they do, champion.” Tom jr. cheered.
-------------------------------------------------
“Do you really think you can sell that garbage for ten Sickles? Are you mad? My son is sick, I need dragon liver!”, Merope Gaunt jelled. The shopkeeper, an unpleasant man with a gigantic blue bow in his brown hair grinned at her. “Well then it seems like you will have to buy it for ten Sickles, young Mrs.”, he grunted. “You sold it to that man over there for seven. Don’t think I didn’t see that!”, she howled. The clerk had the audacity to laugh. “Well, I’m selling it to you for ten. You look like you can afford it, with that big diamond on your finger!”
Angrily Merope clutched her purse. “Well then I will spend my money somewhere else!”, she hissed and marched out of the shop. It wasn’t like this was the only shop in London that sold potion ingredients. Hopefully her sweet little baby boy was not in too much pain. “Just a little longer, my little adder, mommy almost has everything.”, she mumbled as she made her way through Diagon ally.
She stopped in front of a big display window and peeked inside. “Our brand-new love potion: Now you can buy your sweetest fantasies”, she read on a big, rose coloured advert behind the glass. Suddenly she felt sick. The potion! In all her worry about her baby boy she had forgotten to give Tom his love potion! In the glass of the window, she could see her own, pale reflection. A cross-eyed woman with thin hair and an incredibly expensive dress, Tom had bought foe her. A desperate expression lay on her features that were much less famished than they used to be.
Merope ran. Faster than ever before in her live she sprinted out of the leaky cauldron and back into muggle London. When she reached her flat, they were already gone. Tom’s wedding ring lay on the kitchen counter. Merope threw her purse into a corner and screamed. They had escaped. And they had destroyed the beautiful life she had built for herself in the process.