Retrospect Part 1 || Tom Riddle

Chapter 1

𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗼𝗺

(n.) the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved.

•••

May 2nd, 1999

In life, only one person is allowed to continue and a year after accidentally winning the second Wizarding War, Lord Voldemort followed this as if it were a religion. How he succeeded was a mystery to not only to those involved but, admittedly, to himself, too. Nevertheless, that was not important; he had managed to keep 2 of his biggest secrets without even knowing one of them.

Harry Potter had destroyed all of Voldemort's horcruxes but, somehow, he was still alive and Harry, was not. Worldwide preparations had began to take place as rumours of a third war circled, the fear and panic now spreading to a global audience; rather than exclusively to those in Western Europe and the United Kingdom. Nobody knew what to expect now that the Dark Lord was immortal, especially when not even himself, knew what was keeping him alive. Although he didn't know how it was possible, he used it to his advantage; this was the lead that he needed.

Most of his important death eaters had managed to survive, besides the traitor, Severus Snape, of course, and more fortunately; The Knights of Walpurgis were still involved in the war efforts yet undetected; he was winning, again.

𓆙 𓆙 𓆙

White.

Everything was white.

White, bright and blinding. But she was out, she had escaped and she was running.

There wasn't a goal, no particular place in her mind, she was just heading for anywhere but there; anywhere her fragile legs could take her. She pictured herself running down the cobbled pathway of a castle, maybe, or a manor but she was always running with him, so it did not matter. However, she was, in fact, sprawled along the ground of a grassland, only just managing to carry herself a few miles north of the Oubilette but would it be far enough?

Him. Him. Him.

At times when she found herself suffocating in depression and misery, she chose to think of him. She couldn't remember any significant features or even a name, she could just see a blurry, male figure but he must have been important. He was all she thought about. It was as if she was attached to him, but there was no use dwelling on who he was so she chose to focus on the desolate ghost of a person she once knew. 

It was soothing trying to imagine him: his hair, his eyes, his smile, the shape of his face, his voice, how he walked, his personality - everything and anything that makes a person who they are. She twined different memories together to form something other than a foggy silhouette and although she couldn't visualise him, she could imagine holding his hand and holding his gaze as she so desperately tried to hold onto her last, but most favourite, memory.

Normally this would help; she'd calm down and find her feet but this time was different, for she heard noise. The Oubilette was silent; a cold dark room with not a single ounce of sound, yet she felt like she were drowning in thunderous din. The silence was one of the reasons why she went mad. 

So, hearing something other than her own heartbeat was unsettling, no, deadly.

They've found her.

𓆙 𓆙 𓆙

At the same time, a pack of Death Eaters were patrolling just beyond the Malfoy Manor grounds. An irate group of people who were displeased about their latest task.

Fenrir Greyback called from the back of them "Any luck yet? He's seething."

"With all due respect Fenrir, if you hadn't have had a mental breakdown yesterday, then maybe we wouldn't be in this position." Sneered Lucius Malfoy who was leading the dull operation.