The Fearsome Name of Riddle

The Hogs Head

The door to the Hogs Head was thick cedar wood and heavy, but Tom Riddle pushed it open for his fiancé with a strong hand over her head. It was dark inside the pub and a baby goat hopped across the floorboards by the bar. The darkness in the room filtered into shadows by candles lit on the tables. A smell of musty ale stains clung to the walls and wafted through the air. Victoria walked up to the older man cleaning a glass behind the bar with as straight a face as she could manage. He had a long grey beard and blue eyes that held an angry frown, distinguishing him from his brother. 

"We'd like a room, Sir," she said politely, smiling at him as Aberforth Dumbledore eyed the two teenagers in front of him suspiciously. 

"You two from the school?" He asked, placing the clean glass onto the shelf next to him and leaning his weight on the counter. 

"We have the money," Victoria told him, placing a pouch of galleons on the bar in between them. 

"I'm sure," Aberforth said, keeping his eyes on the couple, unwavered by her bribe. "What year are you in?" 

"Seventh," Tom told him, placing a hand on Victoria's shoulder. 

"And you're both seventeen?" Aberforth sighed, turning to grab a room key from the cabinet behind him. 

"Eighteen," Tom confirmed, flashing his charming smile. "And engaged if that will put you at ease. My fiancé and I just—" 

"That's none of my business mate," Aberforth said, cutting him off as he handed Victoria the room key. "As long as you're both of age and have the money, I don't need to know any more." 

"Thank you, sir." Tom gave a strained nod, following Victoria towards the stairs. "Have a good day." 

His hand clenched until he forced it to relax. Losing his temper over a stranger talking over him wouldn't serve him at all. Staying away from the castle for the weekend was Victoria's idea, he wouldn't lose her to her father's wishes by complaining. 

Victoria turned the room key in the lock and pushed open the door. The room was cosier than Victoria had expected it to be. Yellow floral curtains hung on each side of a small window. A double bed with white pillows and yellow sheets sat in the middle of the room between two wooden side tables. It was pretty, kind of what Victoria imagined a Hufflepuff bedroom to be. 

"Do you like it?" Tom asked her, throwing a small bag onto the bed. With expansion charms, they didn't need anything bigger and Tom was glad he didn't have to carry anything heavy. 

Victoria nodded as she let her fingertips travel across the soft fabric of the bed quilt. It smelled considerably better in the room than down at the bar, clean and fresh if a little dusty. 

"You know, when you said you wanted to spend the weekend away together, I didn't think you meant to Hogsmeade," Tom said, walking around the bed and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm surprised we were even allowed out of the castle with the search for that missing girl." 

"It's not like anyone's going to find her," Victoria smirked, turning in his arms and putting her own around the back of his neck. "Besides, I wanted to have you close to me for a while." 

"Close," Tom repeated, smiling as he let his hands wander over her sides, feeling the soft fabric of her cardigan. "How close exactly?" 

"As close as close gets," Victoria whispered, lifting onto her toes and brushing her lips against his ear as she spoke. 

A shiver went over Tom's skin. A feeling he had never felt before. His whole body tingled. Where she touched him, hair spiked and a warmness spread up the back of his neck. 

"If I just wanted to lean on you, I would've done it in the common room." Victoria spoke so softly Tom could feel every word against his cheek. "Tom, do you understand what I'm asking you?" 

"I- I do," he stammered, lifting a hand to the side of her face. He laced his fingers into her hair, his heart racing in his chest. "And it's not too soon for you? I don't want this to be just so your father can't rip you away from me." 

"It's not." She smiled, her nose against his and their lips barely touching. "This is just for us. I want you, and I want you for me, and no one else." 

Tom stroked Victoria's face, looking into her eyes, searching for any trace of magic. He would not become his mother. If he had pushed his own wants into her mind then he did not want it. She smiled at him, a slight frown of curiosity in her eyes but they were completely her own. She was likely studying him in the same way. Once he was happy that the decision was hers, Tom kissed his betrothed, both hands firmly on the sides of her face as he walked her back to the edge of the bed. 

#####

She was his. 

Tom's hand held onto Victoria's knee even as she ate. They had gone out to the Three Broomsticks to have dinner, choosing to avoid whatever was passed off as food in the Hog’s Head. They sat in a corner booth seat, the warm torches much more pleasant than the low light in their lodging. 

His meal sat in front of him barely touched, a free hand pushed the innards of his beef pie around his plate. Occasionally he would take a bite, when Victoria glanced at him. She had given him everything. A pureblood girl like her had to be chaste, prudish even, or the whole society would shun her for her promiscuity. They weren't married. But now they had to be if she wanted to keep her reputation. 

“I'm not going anywhere,” Victoria said, carefully cutting a small piece of potato to eat. “You can eat your dinner without holding me still.”

“I'm still going to marry you,” Tom said, tightening his hand ever so slightly. 

“I know.”

“And I have not bewitched you,” he continued, an intensity in his tone that drew Victoria's attention. “Nor been bewitched by you.”

“I know.” Victoria placed a hand on top of his. “This is real, Tom. I promise.”

It all felt uncomfortable. He had never navigated a relationship like theirs before. Charming her and becoming the face of a good society man had been something he'd learned to do perfectly. But it had all changed. His care for her, it ached in his chest like a deadly disease. 

“I don't know how—”

“You did just fine,” Victoria said, leaning in to kiss his cheek before going back to her meal. 

“I won't lose you.” Tom brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, watching her like he had never set eyes on her before. “Not to your father, not to Obsidian. You are mine.”

“That is what we agreed.” Victoria lifted her hand and tapped the black stone of her ring against his face. 

“I'm being serious.” Tom said, grabbing her hand and holding it in both of his. 

“Tom, I'm not going back home.” Victoria spoke clearly, looking into his dark brown eyes. His rare display of worry concerned her. “My father won't have a chance to stop us. And you trust Obsidian with your life, don't stop now based on your own paranoia.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.” She spoke with haste and without hesitation. It wasn't a revelation for her but an answer that she knew with certainty. 

The words washed over him like a soothing rain. Tom leaned forward and rested his forehead on her shoulder, his eyes closed as he replayed what she said in his head. He went over every syllable and annunciation until he could barely remember the sound of it. 

“Again.”

“I love you.”