𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 ☠︎︎ ᵗᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ

1.1

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"Do you really have to go?" The girl asked, floating behind the boy who was hastily buttoning up his freshly laundered shirt.

Tom smiled to himself, someone wanted to be with him. Even though it's been 6 years since he's known the stubborn ghost, it always manages to surprise him that someone actually cares for him, even if that person is a stray ghost.

He turned and took his coat, "It's just a meeting for a few hours, I'll be back soon." He said, his eyes burning into her pale gray ones.

The girl nodded, seeing the boy out the door of their home. It was a small house in a small village near Hogsmeade, but it was completely different. The streets at night were as dangerous as walking on a tightrope - one wrong move and you're done. She didn't particularly like the place, but Tom seemed comfortable, so it didn't really matter to her as long as the blue-eyed boy was safe.

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"My Lord." The people rose from their seats as soon as their so-called Lord was seen at the door. Everyone in dark clothes, dark circles under their eyes and a dark aura around them, looked like an army.

That's what they were. His army that he creates so that he can one day rule the wizarding and Muggle worlds as an immortal wizard with a ghost by his side.

Tom nodded, taking his seat at the head of the table, his eyes following each person present at the table, waiting.

He cleared his throat, "News?" His cold voice sent shivers through every person at the table, shaking them to the bone.

A boy with striking green eyes raised a trembling hand, drawing attention. "It is impossible to bring a spirit back to the living in the form in which they died, they must be reborn of their own free will." He explained in a trembling voice, "My Lord." He added quietly, returning his gaze to the table in front of him.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Every follower of his was shaking, waiting for something, anything.

Tom already knew this, he didn't need a reminder, he needed a solution - a miracle, and this boy...

"Crucio."

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Her sweet laugh filled his ears and soul, echoing in his mind as if to memorize it for the moments when he wouldn't be able to hear it.

He closed his eyes allowing the sun to kiss the pale skin of his face as a satisfied smile hovered on his lips. He had never known laying in the spring sun to be pleasant until he met her-he felt as if she had given him life, even though she was the dead one.

He felt the cold breeze on his face, knowing it was only her hands trying to caress him. He could feel his chest tighten and a heavy lump form in his throat.

He opened his eyes to see her smiling face in front of him, he knew that this day had to come, but he didn't know if he was ready.

Will he ever be ready to find out how she died?

"It's actually funny." She snorted, her voice a little harsher than before. Tom knew she was trying to look like she didn't care, like her own death hadn't traumatized her, her voice said it instead of her words.

"Tell me." He sat, leaning against a huge tree, watching the surface of the lake reflect the light of the sun.

"I was 18 when it happened." She started and Tom's heart was already sinking; 18? She was still a child. "I was in my last year at Hogwarts. I had this reputation of being the girl that got stared at everywhere I went, I didn't like that reputation." She laughed humorlessly. "One evening I was returning from my duty as head girl when I noticed someone approaching me. It was a boy in my year, I knew him. I want to say that I did." Tom was afraid to know where this was going. "I said no and the last thing I saw as a living person was a green flash." She stopped but he knew she had something more to say, he wanted to put his hand on hers, hug her and tell her it was okay, but he couldn't. "But the first memory as a dead person is his body on my dead one like it's just a toy." She finished.

Her gaze made holes on the side of his head, expecting something. "Do I disgust you?" She asked.

"You are the purest creature I will ever have the honor of meeting." He replied, looking back.

She smiled, looking away.

"When?"

"26th September 1907."

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T. M. Riddle's memories

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