Rosie ⎮ Tom Riddle

Forty

Tom

One Month Later

  At almost eight months pregnant, it was getting harder for Rosalie to walk anywhere. That was the lie she told unnecessarily to Tom to get him to keep his arm around her waist, or his hand in hers as they walked. Tom knew what she was doing, but he would have held her without the excuse as well.

  They'd had dinner in town, and now they walked along the side of the river, the moon casting a silver glow on the water, the cool night air a welcome change from the warmth of the restaurant. Tom's jacket was draped over Rosie's shoulders because she had forgotten to bring a cardigan, and he made sure it was snug around her. They made their way to a small bridge, the gentle sound of the river flowing beneath them and the stars twinkling above.

  Tom paused on the bridge, wrapping his arms around Rosalie from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, but in the back of Rosie's mind, all she could feel was dread. Tom picked it up by the goosebumps on her forearm, his thumb tracing the small bumps gently.

  "Stop worrying, Rosie," he murmured into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "I'll be gone a couple of days, maximum after tomorrow. All I have to do is defeat Dumbledore."

  Rosalie turned in his arms, facing him. He paused, seeing the look of unease on her face. He gently cupped her face with his hands, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped, his eyes searching hers for reassurance.

  "You don't trust that I can kill him?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. If there was one wizard he feared, it was Dumbledore.

  She tilted her head, grabbing his face with both hands, her fingers tracing the contours of his cheekbones. "It's not that. I know you can if you try, but I'm not a gambler. I don't want to toss a coin, lie in bed staring at the ceiling at night wondering if you'll ever come back to me again." Her voice broke as tears welled up in her eyes.

  Tom tightened his hold around her, pulling her close, his heart aching at her vulnerability. "Rosie, listen to me. I will win. I will come back to you and our son. Nothing will stand in our way. But I need you to stay home, where you're safe. Knowing you're out of harm's way is what makes me strongest. If anything happened to you..." His voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought, his eyes darkening with fear.

  Rosalie shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Tom, I never thought I would say this, but I want to be used as a weapon for you. I can help. Please, let me help."

  Tom's expression softened as he kissed her gently, his lips lingering on hers, savouring the moment. "No, Rosie. You're my life. I need you to be safe. I need you to stay here." His voice was firm, resolute, as he held her tighter.

  She kissed him back, her tears mingling with the kiss, her heart aching with the weight of their love. She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder, her voice a desperate whisper. "Please, baby, you need to be safe more than me. Please be careful."

  Tom kissed her forehead, then leaned against it, his hand resting on her swollen belly. He smiled as he felt the baby kick, a gentle reminder of the life they had created together. "Have you thought of a name yet?" he asked, his voice tender, filled with love.

  Rosalie nodded, a small smile breaking through her tears. "I have an idea."

  "Tell me," Tom urged, his eyes searching hers, his heart longing for the future they had planned. A future he could only imagine if she was there, a mother to his children, a soulmate to him.