Rosie ⎮ Tom Riddle

Forty Three

Tommy (2)

  Rosalie's eyelids fluttered as consciousness slowly returned, the world around her coming into focus through a fog of confusion and fear. The first thing she felt was warmth—too warm, and too dry for the cold rain she remembered. She bolted upright, her breath quickening, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.

  She was on a sofa, covered by a blanket, in a modestly furnished living room. The walls were lined with photos, cheerful and full of life, but Rosalie barely registered them as her panic grew. She felt trapped, cornered. Where was Tommy?

  The door creaked open, and the man from Tommy's daycare, Harry stepped in cautiously, his expression a mix of concern and relief. "You're awake," he said softly, but Rosalie was already scrambling off the sofa, her body trembling as she stood.

  "Where's Tommy?" she demanded, her voice edged with desperation.

  "He's right here, he's fine," Harry assured her, stepping aside to reveal Tommy sitting in the corner, playing with a toy car, oblivious to the tension filling the room. "We found you on the street, you were—"

  But Rosalie didn't let him finish. The memories crashed over her like a tidal wave—the newspaper, the headline, the realisation that Tom was still alive. She felt the panic rising again, her chest tightening, and her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she clutched at her chest, tears spilling over as she tried to catch her breath.

  "Rosalie, you need to calm down," Harry said, stepping closer, but she recoiled from him, her fear morphing into anger.

  "Do not tell me to calm down!" she screamed, her voice cracking. She rushed over to Tommy, pulling him into her arms, holding him so tightly that he squirmed in discomfort. "We need to go. Now."

  Harry blocked her path as she tried to head for the door. "Rosalie, wait! You should see a doctor. You passed out in the street, you could be—"

  "Get out of my fucking way!" she spat, her eyes wild, her whole body trembling with the intensity of her emotions. She pushed past him, grabbing Tommy's hand and dragging him toward the door.

  "Mummy, why are you crying?" Tommy's small voice broke through her hysteria, grounding her just enough to make her pause and cover her mouth of the foul language she just used. She dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands gripping his small shoulders as she looked into his wide, innocent eyes.

  "Mummy just realised something," she said, her voice quivering. "Something that she should've realised a long time ago."

  Tommy looked at her with a child's pure curiosity. "Is it about Daddy?" 

  Rosalie nodded, biting her lip to keep the sobs at bay. "Yes, sweetheart, it's about Daddy."

  Tommy's eyes lit up with hope. "Is he coming back?"

  Rosalie's heart shattered at the question, but she forced herself to smile for him. "I'll make sure he does. But Mummy just has to do something first, okay? Then Daddy will come back to us."

  Harry, who had been watching from a few steps away, took a hesitant step forward. She had clearly lost her mind, because from what that muggle man knew, people didn't just rise from the dead. He stared at her child with worry, afraid that he could be in danger from a woman in clear mental distress.

  Rosalie stood abruptly, feeling her pockets for her wand but she couldn't find it. She had no idea where she was, and no alternative but the man behind her.

  "Rosalie, please. You're not thinking clearly. You need serious help. Just stay here, let me help—"

  Turning to face him with a fierce determination in her eyes, she bit back at him. "No. You're going to take me home. Now."