antebellum [t. riddle]

lxxiv

april 1945

dearest miss edwards,

what can i say?

to start, i would like to make clear that everything put forth in this letter is meant for your eyes only, and nothing i write is intended to place blame. everything i believe comes from a place of worry, and the last thing i want to do is put anyone in danger or at risk. that includes you as well.

with this, i shall begin, though i wish we were able to speak in person.

abraxas is my only child, and the only one i will ever have. i do not say this to place guilt upon you, or in an attempt to alienate him from his chosen companions. but this is true. i disagree with a great many of the decisions he has made in his path to independence, but i also know that my opinion on these matters is of little importance to him. my guidance has become obsolete in his life, and i understand that, as well as accepted it. perhaps he is an adult by legal standards, but he is still a boy— my boy. 

despite this, i still find that through certain measures, i am able to figure out the things he refuses to tell me, and to influence him without his expressed knowledge. this letter is one of those ways. you may think me wrong for doing this, but i ask what you would do in my position? let him be led astray and unprotected? collectively they may be formidable, but they know far less of the world than i do.

and i suspect far less than you as well.

i apologize preemptively for this sort of invasion of your privacy, but every sense that radiates from you is so very strong that i could not help myself, i suppose. but even without infringing upon your emotions, i can see in your eyes understanding. you look upon the world differently than i have ever seen someone your age do. i can see clearly that you know misery and defeat on a far greater scale than many wizards ever do in their entire lifetime. 

as anyone would, i became curious. you're far too young and too beautiful to look upon the world with such wretched ugliness. you deserve to be shielded and protected from it, just as nearly every other child has been granted. but life has not dealt you such a hand, and you must bear the burden of those who came before you. 

i believe the true cause of the deaths(?) of your family was not what you told me over christmas. i shall not ask, nor do i want to know, especially if that knowledge will get you or i into trouble or danger. i also believe that certain other parts of your past have also been untruthful. know that i understand the reason for this, as discretion is of unspeakable importance in these times.

your safety and happiness are inexplicably linked with those of my sons', as well as tom, thomas, adonis, and adrien's, and i therefore extend my resources to you. if there is anything, and i truly do mean anything, you require aid with, please ask. especially if you intend to enter hiding, monetary or otherwise.

i truly hate to ask anything more of you, but please try to keep them out of danger. they are more naïve than you assume. they are intensely learned in those topics they believe valuable, but everything else is unknown to them.

i do hope your storm soon comes to pass, miss edwards, though i sense within you that you do not believe it will.

with utmost sincerity and regard, 

saiph malfoy

•••

the part of tom riddle that loved sicaria edwards could not exist at the same time that the part of him that wanted to keep her alive did.

they were two fundamentally different entities, with two different sets of goals. each side was responsible for different acts and different choices he made which, in turn, led to different reactions from his witch.