HUNGER.

Epilogue

His name was Theodore Thomas Riddle.

Born early, three weeks to be exact, in the bitter winter's cold. He did not cry, only surveyed the room with a distinct curiosity that spoke for his character; calm, as if both Hannah and Tom's temperaments had cancelled the other out, leaving the child serene and thoughtful, deliberate even in his infancy. He inherited his father's dark shock of hair, and his mother's inquisitive nature, fascinated by the world around him to the point it had taken several hastily cast protective charms simply to keep him in his cot.

He was a surprise, as the best things in life often were. Tom, working late nights as an Auror in Scotland, had taken some time from his job to stay close to home around the month Hannah was due- Theodore seemed to know this, somehow, for he arrived promptly within the first hour his father set foot in the door.

Hannah had been nervous at first, fearing Tom would struggle to bond with their child- she'd read a mother's love came quickly, all consuming and fierce, but that the love of a father occasionally took time. It had taken him long enough to adjust to the idea of their changing family, spending long nights staring out at the moon from their cottage window, as if he were waiting for it to reveal some sort of secret to handling parenthood. She needn't have worried, really; it had only taken one knowing look from Theodore to have the eldest Riddle wrapped around his tiny fingers.

And the two were inseparable- any excuse Tom could find to extract his son from Hannah's arms was taken.

"He just said father," he had exclaimed one night, mesmerised by Theo's toy wand, which the child was waving gracefully at the ceiling and observing the flashes of light with awe. "I swear he did, did you hear him?"

Hannah had laughed, waving her own wand to extinguish the embers that had started to form on the carpet. "He's five months old, Tom- I don't think he could speak, even if he tried."

And yet, as the weeks passed, they began to wonder if Theodore had some sort of gift- his wide, dark eyes appeared to hold all kinds of knowledge, even at his tender age. Tom paraded his son around the Ministry, riding on his shoulders and tossing the boy high up into the air until he cried with laughter. Their world was vivid, full of unrestrained joy, lit up by the small child with his father's smile.

Theo began dreaming of snakes at around six years old.

"Is there any of me in him?" Hannah teased, proud that their son had inherited so many of Tom's talents. Parseltongue hadn't been something they anticipated, but they nurtured it nonetheless, buying Theo a small, orange corn snake as a companion the first time they visited London.

Tom had almost dropped his cup of morning coffee when Theo emerged that day, his face flushed with excitement, the snake wrapped around his wrist as they barrelled into the kitchen.

"Father, I've finally named her," he said breathlessly, waving the little creature over his newspaper. "Her name is Myrtle."

Her eyes snapped up, watching Tom pale, setting the mug delicately down on the table as if he'd simply misheard his son. "That's- that's an interesting name."

"She told me," Theo chattered, oblivious to the tension in the room. "She said it's Myrtle Elizabeth, how pretty. Mother, isn't it pretty?"

He kissed the snake's head gently, letting her wind her way up his sleeve and under his shirt, poking her tiny head out from behind a button.

"It's lovely," Hannah said warily, kicking Tom hard under the table. He blinked, dazed, fixing a broad smile on his face and busying himself with breakfast.

Myrtle roamed the house freely. Theo would cry if she had to be caged, even at night, telling his parents adamantly that the snake got scared of dark places. Hannah found her once in the bathroom, entwined around the sink faucet, her tongue flicking rhythmically as she gazed accusingly at her. She decided not to tell Tom.

Theodore was a happy child, except for the nightmares that plagued him. Visions of a great serpent, of a claustrophobic cavern that woke him up screaming. "Father was stuck," he wept one night, his little chest heaving with terror. "He was stuck in the hole and couldn't get out."

It took Hannah an hour of soothing and a trip back to where Tom lay sleeping in their bed to settle the child, bordering on hysteria until he saw his father's unhurt face.

"There was an otter in our bed last night," Theo said cheerfully over his pancakes the next morning, startling Hannah into pouring an alarming amount of syrup across the table. "It told me about big horses that drink from barrels, and to be careful not to touch father's cabinet or he'll tell me off."

She hesitated, sopping up the syrup with her sleeve. Eventually, she conjured some images on the wall; an otter, a ferret, and a mink.

"Which was it?" Hannah had asked him gently. "Point to what you saw, baby."

Without a moment's pause, Theo pointed to the last picture, the small auburn furred creature peering mischievously out at them from a clump of bracken.

She didn't expect the memories to sting quite so much. When Tom returned from work that evening, he froze at the door, his eyes catching at the scurrying mink in the photograph she hadn't had the strength to take down. One look at Hannah's face and he set his jaw, resolutely remaining silent and pouring them both a generous glass of wine.

At eleven, when Theodore's Hogwarts letter arrived via owl, the little Riddle simply gave a soft smile and patted the owl on the head. "I remember it there," he whispered, "tell them I'm coming soon."

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Hannah said thickly, the day they watched the train disappear into the distance. She held Tom's arm tightly, allowing him to steady her as their son waved vigorously from the window, until he became a tiny figure on the horizon.

"He will," Tom kissed the top of her head, his own voice clouded with emotion at the sudden emptiness around them, parents filtering from the station as the train departed. "I have no doubt about it. He's a Riddle, so he'll be just fine."

*

oh my GOD I'm so emotional this book is over!! I can't believe it's come this far, thank you to each and every one of you that's commented/voted/read, I appreciate it so much.
book number two is in the works, following theo on his own journey to discover his legacy at hogwarts.
if you've got this far, I really hope you've loved reading hunger as much as I've loved writing it <3

fun comment suggestion: what do you think little theo is going to get up to at hogwarts? 👀