Marked • Tom Riddle

His Enslaved Wife

   It was the dead of night and the household rested in an easy silence as all its members slept soundly within its walls. That is, all except one... me. Now that the moon was up at its highest peak, it was time to execute my plan. The mucky, bubbling, vomit green potion looked absolutely disgusting in the small cauldron. Its less than unappealing appearance only worsened as I poured a good portion of it into a drinking glass, the thick and lumpy texture falling in slow clumps, one on top of the other. One of the hairs Betsy had brought me hadn't boiled down entirely, and I nearly gagged knowing I'd have to drink it soon. The polyjuice potion, when brewed right was a powerful and deceptive potion, but it came with a dire price. It tasted horrible. But it had to be done. 

   Looking at myself in the mirror, in one of Betsy's uniforms, I couldn't help but smile. If Mother saw me like this she'd have a fit. Merlin, if anyone saw me like this they'd think me insane. But it was a good thing they wouldn't see me. No, they'd see Julia, a kitchen maid who worked at the Dark Lord's estate. Although I did not know anything about her asides from her name and where she worked, I had to pretend to be her, at least for a little while. The only problem, there was a chance I could run into her there. Merlin, it was a good thing I could always obliviate her memories. With a deep sigh and the poorly thought out plan fresh in my mind, I drank the polyjuice potion, one stomach-turning gulp at a time. 

   "Ew," I nearly choked on the last sip. In the mirror, I watched my reflection change into someone else. Feature by feature, I slowly morphed into Julia until my reflection dissolved and I was left staring at hers. Chills ran down my spine as I smiled only to have her smile back at me. It was truly a bizarre thing to not recognize yourself in the mirror, but I didn't have time to stare. The polyjuice potion had a time frame before the effects of the potion would metabolize out of my system and return me back to my normal state. I had to hurry if I wanted to save Mila without being caught. I didn't even want to imagine what would happen to me, what the Dark Lord would do to me if I was caught. So, as a safety measure, I poured the last remaining chunks of the potion into a flask and tucked it into my apron. Quickly, I firmly took ahold of my wand and apparated into the vast gardens of the Dark Lord's estate. 

   The winter weather did me no favors as I was ankle-deep in fresh snow, encompassed by the cold, night winter air. But I could not have just walked in through the main doors. No, even at night that would draw too much attention, especially since the help was not to use the main doors. Unfortunately, due to the risk of being caught out of bed by one of Julia's colleagues, I also could not enter through the back or through the kitchens. I had to be more discrete about my entry. I had to make sure no one saw me. And I especially had to make sure I had a safe way out with Mila. So, shivering from the icy air, I made my way through the labyrinth of tall hedges until I found the well that Lucinda had led me out of, where I had killed her. I pushed all memories of that night away to focus on the task at hand, and then carefully descended down the ladder attached to the side of the well. 

   The journey down was a lot easier than I'd thought it be. It was a boost of encouragement to get me through the plan. However, it was when I entered the tunnels underneath the estate where my courage disintegrated into cowardice. They were absolutely terrifying. I didn't know if it was because of the dim flickering flames of the green enchanted torches that lined the damp walls, the strange echos I kept hearing from the depths of the many connecting tunnels, the small bugs crawling over the walls, or a combination of all those things that caused me to be so scared. Nevertheless, I continued with my plan and hurried through the tunnels, following the sounds of the people above in hopes they would lead me to some sort of entry, but instead, I hit a dead end.