Chapter 1
Tom Riddle was truly a gorgeous young man, Merope thought as she stared through the window.
Like every morning, he was walking past the house and gave a little smile in her direction, even though he couldn't see her. Tom knew she'd be here, waiting to see him.
He'd promised that one day, they would run away together, no matter what their families thought.
"What are you staring at, girl?" These words, heard altogether too often, broke her out of her trance.
She turned away from the window to see her father, staring at her with distrust. He really didn't like Tom. Called him a lowly creature and all manner of other disgusting names. Merope hated it. She couldn't wait for the day she would finally be free. The people in the town pitied her, the shy girl who knew the use of every plant, rarely venturing outside but always courteous and helpful. They would have thought quite a lot less of her if they knew her plans, but Merope didn't care. She just wanted out. Needed out to save herself.
She had been quiet for too long. A knife flew at her and pierced the wall only inches from her face "I asked you a question, girl!". Her father was growing angry, his face had taken on an unhealthy red hue. "Nothing, father! Just the view of the woods". This only angered him further, however. He turned his wand on her and slashed it at her. Merope began to feel invisible whips hitting her in time with her father's words. " Do. Not. Lie. To. Me". Her dress was tearing up, but she knew better than to complain, or even move. She tried to whimper assurances of her honesty, but her father wouldn't hear it. Mercifully, however, he stopped the spell. "I spoke with your brother. He told me you were still infatuated with those disgusting vermin scuttling around town. That muggle creature. You were looking at him, weren't you?" Oh no. Father couldn't know. Much as it pained her, she would have to deny her love once more. "Of course not, father. I was merely... observing them and wondering how they think themselves worthy to walk our earth. I have no feelings but disgust for them". Her magic twinged at the lie. She had promised herself to Tom, and magic took promises seriously, even ones made to muggles. There was no backing out of it, now. It was Tom or no one.
"Just observing, eh? And you'll marry your brother like a good little girl?"
Never, she thought, shuddering internally. Her brother was a brute, and he was scary. She didn't want to be near him at all, and marry him? She wouldn't last a month. If her broken vow didn't kill her, first. Naturally, her father must never know that.
"Of course I will, if my lord father commands it". Please please please believe me, Merope was chanting in her mind. Please stop it. Just leave me alone.
" That's a good answer, girl." Her father stepped closely to her and held her face in a bruising grip, forcing her to look at him. "But I think I'll have to make sure that you don’t do anything stupid. You were never very smart".
He waved his wand again and Merope could feel her body changing. Her shiny hair grew dull and brittle, her skin and lips became dry and itchy. She could only gasp in horror. "Now I know that you won't run off with that creature. Who would want you, now? Your brother will go into town and give him a little message from me, just to ensure he won't step close to you again". He patted her cheek in faux affection as if he hadn't just sent her to death and barked out a cruel laugh before turning away. "Have dinner ready in twenty minutes, I'm hungry", he yelled over his shoulder before leaving the room. Merope looked at her reflection in one of the silver plates lying around. It took all she had not to start sobbing.
She had never been pretty, and in particular her eyes were creepy, but she had always taken care of herself. How could she speak to Tom again? How could she even come near him, now? She was hideous. Of course, even being able to talk to him was no longer a certainty. Her brother may end up killing him.
The stinging in her torso from the lashing reminded her that, unfortunately, there was no time to worry about that now. If dinner was late, she was going to be in real trouble. With shaking hands, Merope set herself to tenderize the steaks her father and brother had wanted for today’s dinner. Stolen meat, as always. Muggles are vermin, but good enough to produce the food you eat, are they, she thought angrily as she beat the steak. “Focus”, she told herself. “Think about how you can save Tom”. An idea took shape in her. A protection ritual. Risky, but immensely rewarding. It would need to wait until her family was asleep, but Morfin was not going to hurt Tom today anyway. It wasn’t long until dinner was to be served, and he would sleep afterwards. She would make sure of that. They never noticed their tiredness after dinner as odd, just chalked it up to how filling her meals were.
Merope had her special seasoning to thank for all her secret meetings with Tom. She had to be careful with it, however. There was no easy alternative if they developed a tolerance to it.
“Finally!”, she thought when her checks determined the meat to be sufficiently tender. She gave another whack for good measure, seasoned them and put them on the grill. Now the side dish. Her father and brother refused to eat vegetables, called it rabbit food, but she had been able to convince them to at least eat potatoes alongside the daily meat.
Today she would be expected to slice and fry them. She took the bucket of this day’s harvest and flicked her wand at it with nary a thought. Spells always came easier to her when she was alone. And it was better to be underestimated than to be suspected.
The potatoes peeled themselves and jumped into a second bucket where she washed them. A second spell set a couple of knives on the potatoes, cutting them into thin slices within seconds. With a generous pinch of more stolen muggle seasoning, Merope chucked the potatoes in the pan and was instantly enveloped by the oppressive smell of frying food and the sizzling she hated so.
She flipped the steaks and stirred the potatoes and waited impatiently to be done with cooking. When the magic in the pan and grill finally sang in her with a sense of completion, she hurried so much she nearly burned herself on the potatoes. Carefully, after plating everything up, she grabbed the bags of seasoning, one for her and one containing the special blend for her father and brother.
The mix that always ended up on her food was simply coarse salt with some thyme, lavender, and rosemary, too feminine for her family.
Their mix was made up of salt, parsley and basil – herbs that they would accept as manly. Of course, they had no idea that it contained Valerian root, not that they would even know what it was. The Gaunts had kept the family knowledge of herbology, potions, and cooking magic strictly in the hands of women for generations. This way, only the women in the family could cook, and therefore, would be forced to. Merope had cursed it more than once, but the books had also granted her invaluable knowledge, and skills that she would sorely need for her life with Tom.
Because while magical society in general was less strict with gender roles than the Gaunts, muggles were very certain that cooking was a woman’s job. She hated cooking for her family, but it would be different cooking for her one true love, and later their children.
Merope sighed in relief. The food was ready. “Dinner is ready”, she called out. She heard a grunted “Finally” from the next room and then two sets of footsteps as her family stamped into the kitchen. They sat down and shoveled the food inside them without a word of thanks.
“You know how to make good steak, no two ways about it”, her brother said while chewing. She inclined her head, taking the compliment as her due as was proper according to her father. With barely contained glee she saw their eyelids drooping just after they had finished the meal. “I’ll do the washing up if you’re done”, she said carefully. The two men nodded and walked to the living room, swaying every step of the way.
Merope cleaned the dinner away and counted out exactly five minutes before making her way to the study and searching for the ritual she had been thinking of.
Binding ritual, love ritual, enmity ritual - Merlin, her family had come up with truly vile things.
Finally, she found it. Protection ritual, to be done only with someone of immense importance. Skimming through the requirements of it, she was relieved to find nothing outside her reach. And as it was currently the waxing gibbous moon, she could do it tonight!
A quick spell copied the ritual onto a loose sheaf of paper – not parchment, she needed to burn any indication of her meddling with rituals, that was men’s work in this family.
For once, Merope was able to easily tune out the obnoxious snoring of the two men. She had no time to worry about them, she had a ritual to prepare.