𝓤𝓼𝓮 𝓜𝓮 - 𝓣.𝓜.𝓡

𝚃𝚘𝚖 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢

Dear Mione and Ron.

I arrived safely from the meeting, don't worry – too much – they informed me about Voldemort's trial.

What would you say if I now have slave?

Don't kill me.

I could explain everything by letter, but I have feeling you wouldn't appreciate that.

So, how about you come by for dinner tomorrow, yeah?

I'm being careful, Mione, ok?

Anyways, I'm tired, it's been a long day, so I'm going to sleep. Night.

Leilah Potter.

"Slave?! What did that woman do this time?" Hermione looked skeptical.

"I have no idea." Ron chuckled humorless. "I just hope that she doesn't regret whatever she did."

"It's late, we should go to sleep, Ronald."

Ron nodded and put the letter on Hermione's desk. And followed his fiancé.

...............................................................................................................

"Mara." The little elf popped into her room.

"Yes Misses Leilah?"

"I need you to buy healing potions, nutrient potions, a salve for cuts and burns, and anything else you think Riddle might need." Leilah rubbed her temples, clearly stressed.

"Yes Misses Leilah, Mara be doing that."

"Thank you, you're dismissed." The elf dutifully left with another pop.

Getting up from her desk Leilah stretched and walked into her closet in order to grab her pj's.

Laying on her bed, she recalled that day's events.

'Tom fucking Riddle is my slave.' She laughed at irony of it all. 'He tried to enslave the wizarding world and ended up a slave himself.'

Despite it all she felt bad for him. And wondered - not for the first time - if he could be saved. Right now, Riddle was like a newborn, vulnerable, weak, and learning about emotions for the first time, experiencing them for the first time too.

So maybe, he could be saved, but she would have to discuss it with Hermione and Ron.

Damn, her hero complex. Dumbledore really fucked her up.

........................................................................................................................

Tom sat on edge of the bed his mistress had given him. Already changed for the day, he contemplated yesterday's events completely. He couldn't believe his mistress had consoled him yesterday evening, how embarrassing.

He had promised himself he wouldn't cry, but he did. He had promised himself that his mistress wouldn't know, but she found him. He was a complete and utter failure.

He wasn't even a good slave. A good slave didn't have to worry their mistress/master, but that's exactly what he did. And now he would have to face her. Merlin, she could punish him for his daring. He had acted as if he was worthy of her amenity. Which he obviously wasn't.