Back To Better A Tom Riddle Fanfiction Sequel

Chapter 2

By dawn Tom had thought things through thoroughly. He had made his decision.

He was done with this war.

It had cost him a price he wasn't willing to pay. If it had ever truly mattered to him, at least now killing Mudbloods didn't matter to him anymore. He had had his revenge a long time ago. By now, it only bored him.

To be honest he had never fought for any Pureblood supremacy belief in the first place. All he had ever strived for, all that had ever been important to him, was his personal advantage, his own power.

And as far as that was concerned things hadn't changed in the least. He still acted on selfish motives only. But after so many years of pursuing what he had thought meant most to him, after gaining all the power he had craved for, after winning and yet losing in two timelines, he was finally ready to admit that fighting this war wasn't what meant most to him.

Even if this war was the basis of his power, it surely wasn't the basis of his magic. It wasn't what had made his magic stronger or better. No, that had been something else. Something that, no matter how much he hated this thought, he had sacrificed twice for a conviction that had proved wrong once again.

He had tried to ignore it for so long, but deep inside he knew he didn't want to live forever if forever meant that his magic would keep yearning for hers the way it did now, the way it had done the last time around. Surely, he didn't need anyone. Tom clenched his teeth. But he wanted her, he desperately wanted her back. He would never have thought this possible. But he missed her. He exhaled sharply.

Yes, it was as simple as that. Damn, he missed her magic and the way it influenced his. He missed her talking back to him, making him angry in a way nobody else could and yet making him feel alive and content at the same time. If anything, he had been stupid to try to convince himself that Cassiopeia didn't mean anything to him.

So, after thinking it through again and again, he had come to the same conclusion every time. He would finally let the world turn into whichever direction it wanted to and concentrate on doing what was best for his personal advantage.

Find the remedy, cure the curse, get her back. That seemed enough of a plan for now.

The first rays of sunshine lit the room when Tom got up from his chair and went to the living room. Upon entering, he saw Grace standing in front of the window, looking outside.
He was momentarily taken aback. For a split second he had forgotten that she was there, that now they were two living here. He inhaled sharply and Grace turned around.

"Good morning," she greeted him.

"Morning." Tom kept standing in the doorway, his hand still on the handle.

Grace looked back at him and cocked her head, obviously contemplating what to say next. After a moment she seemed to have made up her mind. Yet, of all the questions she could have asked, this seemed one of the oddest to Tom. "Is there anyone else living in this house?"

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "No, obviously it's just you and me now."

Grace nodded. Then she asked, "Don't you have a house-elf?"

A look of surprise crossed Tom's features. Then he shook his head. "No, there's no house-elf."

"Oh." Grace seemed a little surprised. "Mum always said that many wizarding families had one, so I thought...." Suddenly, she looked down at her feet. "Uhm...I don't know what I thought..." Her voice trailed away.

Involuntarily, Tom's thoughts travelled back to the Gaunt's shack, and he shortly imagined a house-elf living with Morfin in the wretched hut. A sneer crossed his face. Then he thought of his stuck-up father and grand-parents, those worthless Muggles. No, there certainly were no house-elves to be found in his history. But obviously Cassiopeia hadn't told Grace about his ancestors, who were, as a sudden thought struck him, also Grace's.