Marked • Tom Riddle

His Tampered Memory

Go check out my Tom Riddle smut book, Cruelty.

Thank you, enjoy!

When I had first fantasized of married life, I certainly had not imagined myself with the Dark Lord as my husband. Instead, my fantasies had been about a life of endless adventure and grand gestures of love. However, sitting in the warmth and safety of my husband's arms, I realize no grand gestures or endless adventures are needed. Yet, it seems it is the simple moments of pure love that have amounted to more happiness than I could have ever asked for.

In the library, in front of the warm flames of the fire, I sat on Tom's lap, enjoying a book while he sipped on the sleeping tea I had made him. In the quiet and comfort of each other's presence, it was our own little haven of bliss.

"I wish lunch with Mother and Father had gone better," I sighed, momentarily closing my book.

"If it makes you feel any better, it is your fondness for your father that prevents me from hating him entirely."

I shook my head, "What a comforting thought. I will make sure to keep that in mind as I drift off to sleep tonight."

"I see your humor is returning," Tom half-smiled. "Not quite entirely there, however."

I scoffed, "Oh please. Compared to you, Tom, I am a master of humor."

"Ouch. My own wife does not find me amusing," he pulled me closer to him and buried his face into my neck, to which I giggled at the ticklish feeling. "Oh, was that a laugh?"

"Of course not," I pursed my lips.

"Hmm, I could have sworn..." His fingers crept up the sides of my stomach. He must have seen the alarm in my eyes because before I could move away, he held me and began inflicting ticklish torture.

"No, Tom, please!" I cried, laughing and trying to escape his hold. "Stop! I'm weak and in pain!"

Tom immediately stopped and looked me over with concern in his eyes, but the moment he saw mine he knew I was lying. "When did you become so manipulative?"

"Well, I am an only child," I shrugged. "And your wife," I murmured under my breath. To this, he laughed and I smiled in triumph. Still, I could not deny the pang of guilt in my chest. "I'm only joking, Tom. You know I love you."

"I know." He kissed my head. "Let's go to bed."

"Tired already?" I frowned.

Tom sighed, "Your tea is truly miraculous."

"Unfortunately, all my hours spent in bed resting have made me rather restless," I said. "I might stay up for a bit and work on some potions."

"Very well, darling," he kissed my head again.

~~~

With a quick turn, I secured the bedroom door closed. The room had turned muggy with the boiling of different potions that had been disregarded during my recovery, but I would have to deal with that later. Right now, it was Betsy's memory I owed my attention to.

Pulling it from my pocket as I walked further into the room, I held it up to the light and watched the swivels and swirls of the secret memory. Although I felt horrible hiding it from Tom, what would occur if he found out that Sebastian had stolen it for me would be much, much worse. Which is something that made my stomach churn with unease.

Betsy had been locked away in some isolated place that even Sebastian had to search for. Although it was I who had suggested that Betsy be locked away someplace far, I had done it in a desperate attempt to save her life. I did not think such harsh security measures surrounding her existence would actually be required. It seemed absurd, and perhaps it was. Perhaps it was something within her memory that made her existence so dangerous. A danger to who exactly, I did not know. One thing was clear, however, Tom did not want her speaking to a soul.