The Girl from Azkaban ~ Tom Riddle (18+)

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖞-𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

~✧~

"Tom?" asked Tara's soft voice, "What are we doing here?"

"I want to show you something," was all he said, leading the witch with him down the dimly lit street. Taraphina was greatly puzzled as to where they were and what Tom was up to. It was a rarity that he would willingly engage in an encounter with the Muggle world.

Hand in hand, they continued to walk through the small village, a sign telling her that they were in Little Hangelton, a village in the far south of England. They walked until they caught sight of a rather large manor house a little way from the village. No light burned for miles, only the moon revealed the silhouettes of the property.

"Tara, I know I have never really opened up to you and told you about my background and family, but now I want to change that. You've shown me lately how important I am to you and now it's only fair if I approach you with the same trust."

"Tom, you don't owe me anything, if you don't feel comfortable with that I can understand, but I certainly appreciate you taking me here and trusting me with this."

Gently he smiled at her and leaned down. Taraphina came towards him and gently pressed her warm lips together. It was a brief kiss, but still one full of trust and love.

"My father and grandparents are sleeping right now, so we have to be quiet, alright?"

Tara nodded, "What are you going to do with them?"

She already knew he wouldn't have anything good in mind. After all, there was good reason that he hardly ever talked about his family and could never bring himself to say the word father or mother without a hateful undertone.

"My father has the same name as me, apparently my mother couldn't bring herself to detach herself completely," he said and ignorantly answered her question. As he walked to the door he took out his wand and muttered, "Alohomora," allowing them to stride in quietly.

The entrance hall was huge, the ceiling height was at least 10 metres and a bright blue wallpaper only made the room seem bigger. The staircase was covered with an expensive looking carpet and the banister was adorned with golden ornaments.

Tom raised his eyebrows in impression and furrowed his brow, "Interesting to see where I could have grown up instead of a shithole where I had to freeze and starve every day."

Tara walked further into the room and spun once on her axis so she had a panoramic view, "Indeed, she said," pointing to a painting, "Anyone who can have a huge oil painting of themselves done like that and then live in a house like that definitely has no financial worries raising a child."

Tom stepped closer to her and let his gaze swivel in the direction she was pointing. The man looked almost like him in every detail. Only the arrogance the man in the picture exuded was in no way the same as Tom's.

"Anyone who can afford a horse like that definitely never had it bad," he agreed, putting focus on the black, athletic animal the man paused beside. He had already found his father in drawings that could be found in the small village library, but they hardly matched the depiction in the painting.

Quietly, they moved on and crept through the house. The adjoining room was probably a dining room, where there were also many paintings depicting sport horses.

Impressed, they looked at the fine works before they went into the next room. Stuffed pharsans hung on the wall, as did deer antlers and boar heads.

"Apparently your father has also found his pleasure in hunting," Taraphina announced, walking over to a glass widow case that displayed various crossbows.