Professor Riddle's favorite

33

"Whats wrong honey? bad dream?" My head pounds as my eyes adjust to the light, my hands rub my face, after which my hands reach above my head as I stretch myself. "I know I dreamed but I can't remember about what." I smile at my husband of two years, today we are moving, our jobs at the ministry have paid off and we have saved enough to move into a bigger house for if we're ready to start a family. "What time were Harry Ron and their wives here to help?" I turn to the clock on the bedside table. "In an hour so we have to get up." His body rises from the bed and slowly walks down the stairs, my head continues to hurt, tension probably due to the move. The bedroom, like the rest of the house, is full of boxes, a new step in our relationship, immediately moving in together from Hogwarts, I can't remember exactly how it happened. He works at the ministry just like Hermoine , Harry and I, is caring, sweet, and a bit stubborn. Not the life I saw before me, but I am satisfied. Hermoine asked me a while ago when the moment was that I fell in love, but I think it just grew that way because I can't remember exactly. I have nothing to complain about, I have everything anyone could dream of, but I always have a strange feeling in my lower stomach, perhaps due to the trauma of the past with my foster mother. "Breakfast is ready!" My nightgown is sticking to my back because of the sweat, it must have been an intense nightmare, fortunately I can't remember it. "I'm coming darling" I slowly slide the curtain over the rails and the sun shines into the room, the roses are in bloom, I have an insatiable obsession with roses, they give me peace, when winter comes and the rose bushes turn into a few brown branches until the sun comes back again I am always in a state of sadness. I wanted them to bloom forever, forever. My legs feel heavy as I walk down the stairs, my eyes glide over the photos on the wall along the stairs, I know it's me, I know I was there but why doesn't it feel like my memories. My broad smile in the white wedding dress, my smile on our first holiday, it doesn't feel like my smile. I slide into the chair and sip the coffee while my eyes are focused on the garden through the glass door. "Is something wrong?" I slowly shake my head, "nerves I think." He laughs, his bright blue eyes full of life staring into mine, a knot forms in my stomach. "Drink your coffee, I'm going to lift some boxes down." He kisses my head and disappears into the hallway, why is he so sweet, so infinitely sweet. My eyes slide over the rose bushes, a rose stands out among all the roses, darker than the rest, bigger. I look at the hallway, he is upstairs, I slowly get up from the chair, the glass door slides open. My bare feet feel wonderful in the grass, my back cold from the morning wind on my wet nightgown. The grass creaks under my feet, my arm stretches out, my hand around the perfect rose, I slowly bring it to my nose and inhale deeply. It smells of wood, old books with a hint of perfume, my hand moves to the adjacent rose that I bring to my nose, it smells nice but not like the rose I smelled before. "Are you going to miss your garden that much?" I turn around in shock to Hermoine and Ginny who are walking onto the grass. My smile betrays my state of mind and they both come to one side. "Wow, it looks black." I nod to Ginny who is now also staring at the rose. "Black......It reminds me of something but I can't think of it." Hermoine stares at the rose as if the rose is going to tell her what it reminds her of "I'm taking it to the new house." I break the stem and hold it against my body while I follow Hermoine and Ginny inside and greet Harry and Ron, after which I place it in a jar of water, the only thing that is not yet wrapped. "I heard from Hermoine that you are on his trail, good work ladies." I look at Harry and laugh, having no idea what he's talking about. "Who are we tracking?" I whisper to Hermoine who raises her eyebrow. "Voldemort" she whispers back as she looks at me in surprise. "Who?" It's so busy at work that I sometimes forget what we are doing, there is an abundance of murders, especially of members of the ministry that can be traced back to a man whose name is unknown, is that Voldemort? He kills my male colleagues like a deranged maniac as if they had done him harm. "They have his name." I look at Hermoine. "Really?' I clear the table, it's more her business, I help her in the background but the case doesn't really appeal to me, it doesn't feel right. "Tom Riddle, Studied at Hogwarts...Are you okay?" I look at the shards on the ground , Tom Riddle , My eyes wander to the rose. "Yes, I'm okay." I start to sweep the shards off the ground with my hands. "He was in Slytherin's house the last descendant of Salazar Slyhterin, parseltongue, extremely dangerous, his powers are limitless." My hands sweep faster on the ground. "Has gathered a group of people around him, they call themselves death eaters." My heart is pounding "Hermoine shut up." Her eyes dilate as I frantically throw the shards into the trash bag hanging on the counter. "Sorry, you're already stressed and then I start whining about work, you're right." I nod as my breathing gets faster, faster, faster , hyperventilation takes over and I lean on the counter. "Do you have a photo?" She puts her arm on my shoulder. "PHOTO HERMOINE" She takes out her wand and a photo appears on the counter, I open my squinted eyes, I take in the photo, his name sounded so familiar but his face tells me nothing. his eyes are the only thing that seems familiar, empty, dark, full of anger. My breathing calms down "Sorry his name sounded so familiar, I got a really bad feeling." She rubs my back. "You may have heard his name somewhere, he has been active for a while, don't feel guilty." I nod and smile at my friend. "You see that ring he's wearing, he's looking for it." My eyes return to the photo. "Why?" She takes the photo and it disappears in her hands. "The gossip is that it contains part of the soul of his beloved, the only person he ever loved enough to let her live, she escaped from his power, alive!" She stares at me seriously, I laugh and look at her. "Seems like a fairy tale." She shrugs her shoulders and lets go of me. "No one knows who she is except Tom Riddle and a few of his confidantes who would rather die than tell who she is. She has been kept safe by him so that no one can ever find her." I look at her as I absorb the ridiculous story, who hides their loved one? "Get dressed, honey, just a few more boxes and then we will drive the first load to the house and you can unpack there." The name keeps going through my head, again and again, a deep voice repeats the name in my head, it sounds so familiar, maybe I know him from school because he went there, no that was before my time according to Hermoine. With the rose on my lap I stare through the window of the truck, Hermoine and my husband talk and laugh while I play a game with my memory. Why would I know someone so dangerous? It really feels that way, but his face means nothing to me, only his eyes, his eyes seemed so familiar. "Beautiful rose, from the garden?" His hand slides off the steering wheel and towards the rose "ouch" I look at his hand in shock. "Big cut from a thorn, why does that rose have giant thorns?" I look at the rose in the pot on my lap, I see no thorns. The house comes into view and he wipes the blood on his pants. "Don't plant those roses in the new garden, I don't want to lose any fingers." He laughs as he parks and gets out, Hermoine does the same and they chat as they walk to the door of the house. Again I look at the rose on my lap, which thorns? it feels like everything is happening in a haze, I get out of the truck and walk inside, the rest also walks through the house, I walk up the stairs to our bedroom. The new bed is already there, the new ugly bedside tables he chose are just like a thorn, a thorn in my eye. I place the rose on the bedside table and plop myself down on the bed. How can someone choose such ugly bedside tables, he seemed to be in a trance by the ugly things. I open the drawer and my heart stops. "And they're not that ugly, are they?" I close the drawer and shake my head. "No, well chosen dear." He sits on the edge of the bed and runs his hand over my back. "Our future, where our children will grow up, we will grow old until death" With every word I become more nauseous, I laugh while holding back tears. "Death" I laugh nervously "Yes, that might have been a bit dramatic." I nod and stare at the bedside table. "I'm going to help the rest, will you come down soon?" He gets up and disappears into the hallway, again I open the drawer and let my hand slide to the object. I slip the ring on my finger and look at the black stone, a green vortex spins in the stone and a voice follows. "Mine" "Mine"

I had already thought of this chapter when I wrote the first chapter and now I doubt whether this should be the end or not. I notice that I enjoy writing this story way too much, but it will have to end at some point. Is it still enough to continue writing? I'll leave it up to you.