Tom Riddle, the son of the Dark Lord, has always been burdened by the weight of his lineage, destined to follow in his father's footsteps as the heir to a reign of terror. Yet, in Rosie Hart, he found a glimmer of hope-a love that made him dream of...
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THE VILLAGE OF HOGSMEADE GLOWED UNDER THE SOFT WARMTH OF EARLY JUNE, ITS COBBLESTONE STREETS BUSTLING WITH THE VIBRANT ENERGY OF WITCHES AND WIZARDS TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THE BEAUTIFUL DAY.
The village, always charming with its quaint shops and cozy atmosphere, felt like a sanctuary far removed from the troubles of the outside world. Rosie had been looking forward to this day, a rare visit to see her younger sister, Genevieve, who had just finished her fourth year at Hogwarts. But despite the idyllic setting, a knot of anxiety had lodged itself in Rosie's chest, growing tighter with each step she took.
It had been two years since Rosie had graduated from Hogwarts, almost two years since she had fled the oppressive control of her parents and the nightmarish breeding program they had forced upon her. Now, eight months pregnant, Rosie found herself in a different world, a world where she had fought tooth and nail to reclaim her life. Tom, the only constant in her tumultuous life, walked beside her, his hand securely around hers. His presence was a source of comfort, yet even he couldn't entirely dispel the sense of foreboding that hung over her.
They walked slowly, mindful of Rosie's condition, her free hand resting on the swell of her belly as they made their way towards The Three Broomsticks, where Genevieve was waiting. Tom had been unusually quiet during the walk, his sharp eyes scanning the familiar streets with a vigilance that mirrored Rosie's own unease. He had always been protective of her, but since she had become pregnant, his protectiveness had taken on a new intensity.
"You're quiet," Rosie said softly, glancing up at Tom. Her voice was laced with concern, the same concern that had been gnawing at her since they had left their home.
Tom turned to look at her, his dark eyes softening as he met her gaze. "Just thinking," he replied, his voice low and measured. "It's been a while since we've been here. Things have changed."
Rosie nodded, though she knew the changes he referred to weren't just the passage of time. It had been over a year and a half since she had last seen her parents, and the memory of their last encounter—of their cruel, controlling ways—still haunted her. She had escaped their grasp, but the scars they had left on her were deep, and the thought of running into them again sent a shiver down her spine.
