Identity
Chapter 6: Identity
14th July 1935, London
On a cool summer day, when Tom was six, a strange girl with bright blue eyes with curled brown hair appeared at the steps of Wool's. Tom would never forget the hollow look she had on her face back then or the ripped and blood-stained blue dress she wore and how she clung to the man she called uncle. The man hesitated leaving her behind and it was Cordelia who let go first.
It wasn't the first time a child had been left at Wool's by a relative but it was the first time he had seen someone promise to come back. He remembered how her uncle bent down to her level and wiped away her tears and held her close before promising he would return for her.
Cordelia didn't cry after. She didn't cry when all the other children teased her about her tattered dress or the soot on her face or the blood matted hair. She didn't even cry all day but the next day, when Tom saw her, she was smiling brightly as if nothing had happened.
There was a strange brightness to her eyes that didn't belong at Wool's. Cordelia Alder knew what she was and where she belonged. She, unlike him, had an identity. She had a family who wanted her. She had a past she remembered and could go back to and most of all she knew how to belong somewhere and Tom envied her.
To him, she was the fleeting summer and he was the endless winter. He hated her but he didn't shy away when she approached him with a knowing smile on her face when all the children at Wool's cowered in his presence or talked behind his back. It was as if she knew something he didn't.
Perhaps she did.
She wasn't surprised when he received his letter to Hogwarts, she wasn't surprised when he showed her his gifts. No, she wasn't. He envied her more than anyone at Wool's and she knew that as well, still she always went to him.
Almost always.
Somewhere along the way, she let go and then it was him chasing after her. Of course, the chase ended and she was gone. He would never forget the lengths she went to for him to have his own identity.
Having your own identity was important in the world, that was something Tom learned early on. People didn't care about you if you were a 'no one' and Tom, like all the other children at Wool's, was a 'no one'.
He didn't know where he came from or where he would go when he had to leave Wool's, even when he was at Hogwarts. It was all fleeting and he lived in perpetual darkness. He had no idea about his future or his past or where he truly belonged and he wasn't the only one at Wool's.
He quickly learned to despise this fact that he, like almost all the children at Wool's, had no identity of their own.
The moment a child was dropped onto the steps of Wool's lost their identity and became a 'no one' and Tom was one of them. His weak and pathetic mother just had to go and give birth to him at Wool's and then die, leaving him to be raised there.
He hated his circumstances and most of all his weak mother.
Wool's was all he knew and had.
He hated it. He hated how ordinary it made him feel to be in the same situation as those children and he hated them.
Perhaps that was what drew him to Cordelia.
Cordelia was different from the others. She had something of her own identity. She stood out against grey and dull people at Wool's and most of all, she chose to stay next to him despite his gloomy dark nature.
She even went through all the trouble to get him something that he could say belonged to him and was part of his identity. He remembered that moment all too well.
Like all happy moments in Tom's life, it was summer and Cordelia had snuck out somehow and somehow she had managed to get herself to a muggle antique shop nearby. Lucy had turned Wool upside down searching for her only friend and even Tom looked for Cordelia, part-curious and part-anxious over her disappearance.
Eventually she returned before evening and went straight to her room. "Where were you? Do you know how worried Henwood was? Do you even know what it's like out there?" He had blown up on her later that night.
She only stared at him with a small smile, her head tilted to the side. "I know. I've read the papers. I know we're in the middle of war but I just wanted to get something."
"What if something bad happened?"
Her smile only became wider and she took his ice-cold hands in her warm ones and said. "Are you worried about me?" She was teasing him.
Tom had rolled his eyes and flicked her forehead before slipping his hand back into hers. "If you've read the papers then you'd understand why I'm angry."
"And I've told you I've read the papers. Those Germans aren't seriously going bomb us."
"There's a war going on out there, Cora. You never know what could happen."
"Well, if the worst comes to worse. I'd be fine."
"You don't know that."
Cordelia only shrugged and freed herself to take a seat. "I've survived worst." And Tom had frowned at her words. She never took her life so seriously and she would always justify it using her family's deaths.
Tom hated her for it. She was always making him angry for no reason. No, he wasn't concerned. At least, that's what he told himself back then. "There you go again." He sighed and ruffled his dark hair.
"You need a haircut." She commented, absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair and he had frozen. If it was anyone else, he'd push them off and break their fingers but it was Cordelia. He let her do as she pleased as he shut his eyes. "Don't worry, Tom. I'm fine and I'm here. I'm always going to be okay. I'm lucky, remember?"
"You know, luck runs out." Cordelia glared at him before pulling at his hair.
"Ow!" He hissed and pushed her off of him as she giggled. He couldn't help but drop his ever present scowl and smile a little. He quickly wiped it off. "Where'd you go anyways and what'd you get?"
"I went to an antique shop round the corner—well, it's not really round the corner, it's in between this road around the corner." She rambled on before she stopped.
"Alright, why'd you say it's around the corner?"
"Because it is—just a little further."
"So what'd you get then?"
She grinned brightly, her blue eyes gleaming with joy. "You'll see soon enough." Was all she said to him that summer day.
Seasons had changed twice and naturally Tom had forgotten about. It wasn't until winter when the year was almost over did he find out why she had gone to that particular antique shop in the midst of all the growing chaos.
"Happy Birthday!" She said as she sat down next to him as their usual meeting place by the Great Lake.
Tom merely nodded in acknowledgement before Cordelia handed him a small but thick box. "You got me a present?"
"I always get you a present, Riddle."
"Tom." He corrected her. He didn't like her calling him Riddle. "So what'd you get me?"
"Open it."
And he did. He obediently followed her instructions well and unwrapped the brown wrapping paper, revealing an emerald green velvet box. The box was the size of a small card and he was curious as to what was inside.
He raised his brows at his only friend and unlatched the box and opened it. There, inside was a small misshapen golden band with four small green stones in the centre. "A bracelet?"
Cordelia nodded. She carefully picked up the band and turned it around, holding it up to the sun.
The more Tom looked at it, the more he realised what an expensive gift she had given him and naturally he hesitated. Of course, he wanted it but in front of Cordelia he hid his greed well.
"Don't you dare try to give it back, I went through a lot of trouble to get it for you."
"I never asked you to do such a thing."
"Nobody asks for a gift, Tom. That's rude." She retorted as she smoothed her skirt. Tom took off his robe and covered her cold legs with it. "And you're going to take it and like it."
"Fine." He drew out, hiding his happiness. His greed was satiated for the moment. "So how much was it?"
She lightly punched him and glared at him. "Are you seriously asking me the price of this?"
"Yes because there's no way the shopkeeper parted with this," He held up the band to the fading evening light. "That easily."
"Oh he didn't."
"Then how much was it?"
Suddenly she was silent. Tom didn't drop the matter and kept hounding her on the matter even when the new year came. It was Henwood who let it drop later on that Cordelia had actually spent six months worth of her allowance from her uncle on getting Tom his mother's bracelet back.
"Look inside the band." She pointed to the insides of the band and he did.
Etched on the inner side of the band were the words.
'M. Gaunt'
"Gaunt? What's that?"
"Not what but who." Cordelia answered. "It's your mother's initials. You know over the summer, Mrs Cole let me help her with the books. While I was going through them, I found that your mother pawned off some of her stuff to buy you some clothes before…you were born."
"Shouldn't it be Riddle?"
"Well, in Mrs Cole's books, she wrote that your mother named you after your father so Riddle was your father's name and Gaunt is—"
"My mother's family." He finished her sentence with wide eyes.
Cordelia bowed her head with a bright smile. "Happy Birthday!" She repeated and he smiled too.
She had given him the greatest gift he could ever hope for. It was the first time he knew more about himself.
She gave him a piece of his own identity.
The burning envy he had felt towards Cordelia, died a little when he held that band of worn out gold in his cold hands. He didn't part with it for a long time, not until the two were in their final year at Hogwarts and he was about to lose her.
Perhaps he wanted her to have a piece of his identity but not of himself. The band of gold was one of the few personal items of his, he never thought of misusing. He gave it to her, hoping she'd stay and not abandon him like the rest and she did.
Maybe it was out of kindness or pity or affection for an old friend or even love. The latter seemed funny to Tom as most claimed he couldn't feel anything—it was only half-true. But he didn't know why Cordelia had accepted his gift and stayed beside him.
He wished he did know, if he did, he could've tied her to him before she disappeared.
"You're home." Cordelia breathed out as he came home late one night.
The lights were dimmed but Tom could see her clearly, dressed in a navy blue coat dress on that chilling winter night of his twenty-third birthday. She had a vanilla iced cake in front of her with a few candles stuck to the top while she stared lifelessly at him.
Despite it being his birthday, she didn't look in the mood for festivities. If anything, she looked as if she had come back from a funeral. Her face was pale and ashen. Her lips were dry with remnants of a faded poppy red lipstick and her bright blue eyes were a little red as if she had been crying.
Tom closed the door behind him and carefully approached her, taking off his worn-out leather gloves and placing them to the side.
"Cora," He greeted brightly as he approached her to engulf her in a warm hug but Cordelia didn't move. Typically she'd be the one to greet him first. "Sorry I'm late, work took too long. Mr Burke wanted some extra help for the evening so I naturally volunteered out of…" He trailed off when Cordelia sighed. His face fell.
For a moment, neither of the two said anything. Cordelia kept sighing, trying to pluck up courage to speak before she finally did. "...When were you going to tell me?" Her voice came out in a soft broken whisper and she looked as if she was going to cry.
He was at her side in an instant with his hand in hers. "Tell you what? You know I tell you everything." He said with an unnatural smile.
It took him a second to realise that he had been smiling more than usual. Cordelia wasn't dull, no, she was one of the brightest people he knew. Immediately he stopped smiling and tried to compose himself but she didn't care.
Cordelia swallowed back her tears and looked at him with anger in her gaze. "When were you going to tell me about Myrtle Warren? Or what happened during your little trip to Albania or your little gang of blood supremacists or what you're actually working on?"
His heart dropped and his face crumbled. For the first time in his life, he was tongue-tied, his wand felt heavy inside his pocket. It would've been easy to pick it up and cast a simple spell to return everything as it was.
"Don't even think about it, Riddle!" Cordelia hissed. She had a knife in her hand but it wasn't pointed at him.
He felt a bitter chill and he quickly moved to Cordelia's side. She backed away. "Cora, put the knife down."
"Then tell me what happened!" Tom shook his head. "Tell me!" He kept shaking his head. All his hard work to hide his dark side was destroyed in moments. "TELL ME!" She kept trembling as she pointed the sharp knife at him, he didn't react to that but it was only when she held it to her neck did he feel true fear. "Tell me you didn't open the Chamber of Secrets on purpose and let the basilisk of Salazar Slytherin loose."
He should've lied and said he didn't. Told her a pretty lie like he always did. Yet his throat felt heavy with words and his mouth was shut. His mind fogged up and before he could regain control, he was already speaking. "I did. I am the heir of Slytherin, I only claimed my birthright. I did nothing wrong. The mudblood was collateral damage."
"Her name is—was Myrtle Warren and she's dead and an innocent student was expelled because of you!"
"Rubeus Hagrid was hardly innocent. He brought a dangerous creature with him inside the walls of Hogwarts."
Cordelia scoffed and struggled to hold back her tears. "The way I see it, you're more dangerous than whatever he homed. You killed someone…"
"A mudblood." He spat out. "I hardly count that as someone. The basilisk only took care of what didn't belong."
And her face crumpled as she looked at him horrified at the true face of Tom Riddle. She sucked in deep pained breath before she shakily tried to speak. "She was a daughter, a friend and a student. She was a person and her name was Myrtle. I can't…what if it was one of your friends? What if it was Abraxas or Estienne?"
"I don't care about them. They could die for all I care."
"How could you say something like that?" Cordelia always knew Tom never really thought of his friends as 'friends', to her they appeared more like followers or acolytes than real friends so she wasn't phased by his answer, only disappointed. "...What if it was me?" She asked instead.
He froze. His mind stopped working. The image of cold and dead Myrtle was momentarily replaced by one of Cordelia. He shut his eyes and turned away from her.
"What if it was me, Tom? What if I saw the basilisk instead of Myrtle and I died. Would you still say the same thing? Of course, you would. You don't care. You only care about your 'birthright' and your…greed. You don't care if anyone dies as long as you get what you want and you certainly won't care if I di—"
"Be quiet!" He shouted, startling her. He'd never yelled at her or anyone before.
The overfamiliar scorching headache was making its reappearance. Anger flooded his entire being and his body shook violently when he even thought about Cordelia being dead.
"You're not dead. You're not dying." He kept saying. "And I won't let you die. I refuse to let you go. You won't die and you'll stay as you are like me."
The knife fell from her hands and clattered to the old wooden floor. Cordelia's shoulders slumped, she had finally given up on Tom. "So you lied." Her tears dried up as she hugged herself tighter. "You lied when you told me you had given up on your silly quest."
"It's not a silly quest."
"It is." She retorted, grabbing her bag and opening it. "You cannot beat death. We all die Tom and it's the way of life. You can't go against fate because you will lose!"
Before he could stop himself, he had grabbed her shoulders and pushed against the wall, trapping her. Cordelia's back hit the wooden wall with a quiet thud as she hissed in pain. Tom tried to apologise but his mouth wouldn't cooperate.
"Let go!" She shouted, pushing and kicking him but he didn't budge. "Let go of me! Tom!"
"Why can't you just support me?" He asked with a crazed look on his face.
"Support you killing peopl—your eyes…" She abruptly stopped struggling. Her focus elsewhere. Tom's eyes were always dark but in that moment they were serpent like and red. "Oh. What did you do Tom?"
Tom didn't answer. He held her close as she struggled to breathe or free herself. The red fog clouding his mind beckoned him to wrap his hands around her throat and take her life for his. Her life belonged to him, it whispered but seeing her bright blue eyes looking up at him, it cut through the haze with ease.
Instead, he dropped his hands to her shoulders and wrapped himself around her.
"What did you do?!" She kept asking between sobs. "Myrtle wasn't the only one, was she?" Again he didn't answer. "Albania…you killed someone there as well, didn't you?"
He didn't know what to say. He had no way of winning with anything he said. His eyes gradually returned back to their dark colour but the damage was done.
"You're right I killed Myrtle and I killed someone else. I won't stop and…" He reached for her and grabbed her face roughly. "And if you get in my way. I will kill you."
Cordelia muttered something under her breath and Tom was flung across the room. She let out a sob before she steeled herself and took out a familiar velvet box. "I spent so many years lying to myself that you would change and get better, get help but you never did. You only kept digging deeper and deeper. I thought if I gave you a piece of your family's past, you'd stop but you never did, you always wanted more."
All she got in response was his crazed slow laughter. "There's nothing wrong with a little ambition."
"There you go again mistaking greed for ambition Tom." Cordelia dully looked at Tom and held up the familiar green velvet box. "...I'm leaving….for good this time. I can't stay here and listen to you go on and on about the Hallows, Death and Horcruxes—yes, I know about them—Arsene told him."
"Arsene." He spat out that name like it was poison.
"I'm leaving Tom. I'm not going to try and stop you. I'm not that kind of a person, you know that. I'm not someone who likes playing the heroine."
"Of course, I'm not interesting enough for an Alder."
She sighed again, shaking her head. Gone was her anger and grief, she was only left with the disappointment. "You were always interesting to me as you were—I just don't want to lose my life like my family did." Tom flinched at the mention of her family. "And no, I don't want to extend it. I'll die when death comes for me. I won't hide or run or try to fight it like you. I'm not a coward."
"I'm not a coward." He echoed her last words as he pushed himself off the floor. "I'm not. I just want to be…great."
"You know you look oddly similar to the man who killed my parents."
His face twisted in fury as he tried to reach for her but she moved out of his grasp so he took out his wand, pointing it at her. Her face fell and she let out a shaky pained breath.
"I am not him, I will never be that pathetic as that man who was easily beaten by Dumbledore—I'll be someone greater than him."
She nodded tiredly. By then, Tom didn't know at that time but he had already lost her then and there. "Happy Birthday your greatness." She smiled mockingly, no trace of joy in her eyes. She threw the green velvet box in her hand at him and he caught it with ease. "And don't come and find me."
Without looking back, she walked out into the night, leaving him behind with the piece of his identity. Like always, the band of gold rested comfortably inside with a scrawled up note which read.
'I'm giving you back what belonged to you. I no longer wished to be tied to you and I hope you give up on your foolish endeavours before it's too late.
Happy Birthday. May this be the last time we ever see each other.'
- Cora
He crumpled up the note and threw it across the small room and to the roaring fireplace. He watched as the flames ate away Cordelia's note as he sat there on the floor with his head in his hands. With her gone, his tiny living room felt so much smaller than before.
There were countless nights, he regretted letting her go. Countless days when he expected her to appear from the kitchen with breakfast for the two of them. Nights were he wondered if he had been truly abandoned. His regrets towards her only piled on since then.
Cordelia wasn't the only thing he lost that night. She was one of the many things he would end up losing. His coveted identity would join soon after.
Tom blinked away those harsh memories and focused on the present in front of him. Just like then, he had another note from Cordelia in his hands. The handwriting was messier but the subject was in the same vein that note was.
Tom read the note that young Cordelia had written next to the familiar green velvet box before he crumpled it and ripped it into pieces.
'I can't accept it Tom. It's not right for me to take what belonged to your mum. You need it more than I do. Thank you for thinking about me but I'm giving it back to you.'
- Cordelia
"Always slipping through my fingers." He muttered as he stood over the sleeping form of Cordelia who was blissfully unaware of the boy watching her sleep.
Nearby Eris slithered around Cordelia's room before stopping near the window sill. She started to shed her skin and Tom looked away. He held up his mother's band to the moonlight and turned to look around the room.
The ugly dollhouse caught his attention. It was here again. His hands traced the roof tiles of the dollhouse with a nostalgic smile. He could still hear their faint voices as he and Cordelia argued in front of the ugly dollhouse and the amount of times he teased her about it and how he asked her to throw it away.
But she never did.
She always had such peculiar tastes.
Tom dropped the band of gold on top of one of the spires, being careful not to make too much sound. The band rested comfortably as he focused his attention back on Cordelia.
Her blissful smile had twisted into a grimace as she clutched her duvet close to her body. She started to tremble, her breathing getting heavy like she was drowning.
Tom was by her side in an instant. He placed his cold hand on top of her head and left it there before running his fingers through her hair while whispering something inaudible. Cordelia relaxed and her breathing returned to normal, only then did he leave.
He could only imagine what nightmares she was having and this time he vowed things would be different. He had his identity and he had Cordelia. Neither would he lose this time.