Tom Marvolo Riddle

The Unwanted Child

The Unwanted Child

There was a story. A very dark and unusual story. A sad story, about a woman who knew no love from the world. Her family did not love her and the man she fell in love with did not love her. The world she grew up in was cruel and unforgiving but she tried her best to be the opposite. She was foolish to believe an ugly woman like herself could have anything nice. No matter her name or status, she was another poor soul trying to get by in the underbelly of London.

It was most unfortunate that the woman was pregnant. Having no magic nor money to her name, everyday was a struggle to survive. She did not care for herself but she did want her child to survive. She did not know whether it would be a boy or a girl and she did not know when it would be born, but given the size of her stomach in late December, she knew it would be soon. It had gotten harder and harder to move, every little action bringing a shooting pain up her spine and an ache in her legs.

Her feet and ankles were swollen and she was severely malnourished. What little she could find went straight to the child.

No one helped her. No one was brave enough to meet her eye. Many pitied her but were not willing to bring her burden onto themselves. The muggle family whose son she had slept with, wanted nothing to do with the bastard child and her own family laughed in her face, calling her a blood traitor for sleeping with a muggle. Merope was and had always been, alone. She admitted she liked being pregnant. Not because of the silly stories she heard from other, luckier women, but because the baby did not judge her.

The child did not call her names and use and abuse her. The child was warm and comforting. It kicked when she talked and moved. She would give weak smiles and try to sing to it. She did not know if it understood her, but that was okay. It was the only thing she could say was her own. She had never had a lick of money, or clothes or friends of her own. Merope was a black sheep and she supposed she would never get away. She knew she would die after giving birth. She was just too weak to do anything else, but she came to terms with it.

She accepted her fate with the last bit of pureblood pride she had.

It was the cold night of December 31st, 1926 when she finally went into labor.

She had fallen against the wall of a building she didn't recognize, not that it mattered, she would never see it again; her chest heaving and a fresh wave of pain erupting from her lower abdomen. With no help, the woman tore her rags even further, giving herself room in the fresh snow that fell and spread her legs wide. Her pale face had gone red and she closed her eyes as she focused on pushing out her child. She was tired, hungry and dehydrated but she refused to stop as she grunted and gasped under her breath, face tight with the effort to push the child further out of her uterus.

The snow became spotted with blood but even so, she kept pushing.

No one knows what time the boy was born, but a few hours later, her magic faded and she smiled weakly as she held a crying baby boy in her arms. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at her first and only child. "Please. Lady Magick, protect him...protect my little Tom Marvolo Riddle. The world will know his name. He will be better than us all. Please.." she whispered, holding him close.

She was not a good sense for magic, if she had been, she would have noticed the faint glow around them, the spike of old magic in the air and the whisper of acceptance that passed by. Her plea had been heard. She could feel herself losing consciousness, her eyes closing just as someone came rushing over.