Darkness and Devotion - A Tom Riddle Story

The Lover

Tom watched as the light slowly came back to Evelyn's eyes. It was small at first, hardly noticeable to anyone but him, who knew her grey irises so well that even the slightest change seemed huge. But he cared not for the size of the progress. Houses were only built one brick at a time.

Tom first noticed a change within her when she was able to eat without him coercing her to. For a few days, Evelyn couldn't seem to hold food down—perhaps her stomach had grown used to eating only once every few days. He would softly ask her to eat just a few bites of the meal before she would sigh and push the plate away. But on the fourth day, Evelyn woke up and ate the egg and toast in front of her without him needing to say a word. After that, she seemed to be hungry at mealtimes, even eating the chocolate cake he had placed in front of her for dessert.

Another place Tom saw progress was with her outdoor time. One of his biggest fears with Evelyn's recovery was that she would be too afraid of the world to go out in it again. He held her arm while they strolled through the garden, silently hoping that she would ask to go into London or Hogsmeade sometime. She stiffened every time they neared the lake, though he would have to take her there sometimes. Partially to let her see that there was nothing to fear as long as she stayed away from the water, partially because he needed to work to undo centuries of dark magic. As the color returned to the water, so, too, did the color to Evelyn's face. She would ask to sit on one of the benches in the rose garden or wouldn't pale at the thought of being by the lake. Tom knew that, in time, she would be ready to leave the manor again.

He didn't make either of them go back to school. She wasn't ready and he sure as hell wasn't going to force her to do something she didn't want to do. Especially when he knew that she would heal better here, somewhere familiar where he could easily control and manipulate the environment. Evelyn didn't have a lot of happy memories in Black Manor but he knew that she would someday. Renovating and redecorating seemed to help immensely. She no longer flinched every time they entered the den or the master bedroom.

There were other little changes he noticed as well, like Evelyn picking up books again or placing her parents' picture on the shelf without tears in her eyes. They say that time heals all wounds. Tom knew that it would heal Evelyn's too.

She still had nightmares at night. Deep purple littered her under eyes from several nights of terror. Part of him wondered if she would always have them or if they were something that would leave in time. There wasn't much Tom could do other than hold her and reassure her that she was safe. He wished he could take them, wished that he could take away all of her fear and pain. But the only way to do that would be to obliviate her and he would never do that to her.

So all Tom could do was hold her. He would wrap his large arms around her and whisper comforting words into her ear. The comfort seemed to work—at least until she had another one.

But on the sixth night, something changed. 

She'd had another nightmare. Evelyn was thrashing wildly in the bed, the sheets sticking to her sweaty form while her arms struggled in his grip. When she finally opened her eyes, they were filled with unshed tears. It broke his heart that he could do nothing about it. If he could, he would take every single ounce of pain from her and shoulder it himself.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and squeezed it gently. "You're alright, Little Dove," Tom murmured. "You're alright. He's gone. I'm here." 

It seemed that most of her nightmares were about Locke. She never said what he did but the terror he felt through the bond every time something reminded her of him filled in the blanks enough. Merlin, he wished he could bring the boy back to life so he could rip him apart again and again and again. His death was far too merciful.