Back To Better A Tom Riddle Fanfiction Sequel

Chapter 4

Later that evening, Tom was sitting at the desk in his study. He had leaned back in his chair, his gaze focused on the book that lay before him.

The Deathly Hallows.

Oh, yes, they were real. And how real they were.

He placed his wand next to the book on the table and looked down at the ring on his finger, a bitter smirk crossing his face.

He knew he couldn't blame Grace for wanting the Resurrection Stone. After all, it seemed so easy, so inviting.

But the stone was no solution, it offered no salvation, it didn't make things easier.

He still remembered the first time he had used it, so many years ago, in that former timeline. Yes, it had worked, there was no denying that. Cassiopeia had been there. But it hadn't been the way he had wanted it to be. It hadn't been quite what he had imagined. It had been a shadow of her former self at best.

Tom clenched his jaw at the memory. She had been so close and yet so distant. It had felt so familiar and yet so strange, so cold, so far away.

This kind of presence hadn't been what he had hoped to find. If anything, it had only made him long for the real Cassiopeia even more desperately, it had shown him still clearer what he had lost.

No, Grace didn't have to know about the Stone.

Besides, he actually didn't even know if it would work this time. After all, Cassiopeia hadn't died the same way she had last time.

Even though back in the cottage his curse had taken the last bit of life away from her body, as it was, that curse wasn't irrevocable. If he succeeded in finding the remedy for the curse she had been hit with in the first place, he could reverse his own curse and then hopefully heal Cassiopeia before the last bit of her blood was spilt.

He drew a sharp breath. Yes, it would be a matter of mere seconds, seeing that she had already been dying when he had cast his curse. But he would make it. He had to. There was no way he was going to fail this, he simply couldn't afford it.

Tom's fingers drummed against the table. But what if things didn't go the way he wanted them to? What if he didn't find the remedy, or, even worse, what if he believed he'd found it but was mistaken? Was there really no other option?

He slowly opened one of the drawers of his desk, and with a flick of his wand something appeared in the otherwise seemingly empty drawer.

Tom looked at it for a moment before he carefully touched the delicate rings of the tiny object. Last time it had given him such an opportunity. So many so much better years.

Yes, maybe it had only been stolen time. Maybe they hadn't been meant to have it in the first place. But... no, he vehemently refused to believe that there was any such thing as fate. 

After a moment he took the time-turner in his hands. Maybe he should just go back in time again. If he went back a few days, maybe a few weeks, he might prevent the attack from occurring in the first place. He might change things for the better yet again.

But if he was honest he didn't even know where to start. He didn't know who the attackers had been. Where had he made the crucial mistake? Why had they known where to find Cassiopeia? What had gone wrong? He shook his head. No, he didn't know enough to go back.

Besides, simply getting Cassiopeia out of the cottage before the attack wasn't going to help. She would remain the main target of those unknown attackers, and it wouldn't take long before Grace would be their target as well. Bad as things were, at least now the attackers were dead, the cottage was destroyed and all evidence of Grace's existence was gone. Tom pursed his lips. No, he didn't intend to change that. So going back in time was no option.