Malignantly Cursed

1

News of Rose Potter's fall from grace hadn't reached far and wide among their society. Especially since she wasn't seen or spoken of at any event or occasion after that fateful Halloween night.

Her family was informed of her and her newborn's death the day after. Her mother had arrived just before the break of dawn to see Rose and nurse her back to health.

Only to be met with the sight of Tom Riddle cradling her cold body.

The screams of anguish that Dorea Potter let out were almost close to Rose's cries the day before.

The funeral service was very small. Charlus' family was unreachable at the time. Dorea's siblings, Rose's cousins and Druella were the only attendants.

The Blacks hated what she did. Hated her for bringing dishonour to the family and then getting the easy exit out to not deal with the mess she created. That was the gist of their feelings until they saw her frail body in her casket, dressed in one of her favourite white gowns, like the little Rosie they all knew and loved.

Their hate immediately shifted to the baby in her arms and then finally to him. He was the one who defiled her, dishonoured them, and it was his baby who killed her.

That's why Tom stayed out of sight. He was at the wake, he couldn't miss it. He knew he deserved hell and more, everyone in that small crowd was likely wishing terrible things on him, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to come. He was going to miss her. They all had each other, but he had no one. Rose and Lily were the only two people he could have called his and he lost both in one night.

Even Walburga, the most hateful of them all, shed tears when she saw Rose. Orion put an arm around her shoulders and walked her away. He couldn't look at the casket.

Tom checked his pocketwatch for the time before steeling himself for what was about to happen. He had several protective charms cast on himself, to the highest degree. Straightening his back, he made his way to the casket, ignoring the cries of rage at his presence.

Lily was swaddled and placed in Rose's arms. Tom bitterly noted that she got her wish of holding her daughter again like she was so desperately screaming at him for. His eyes trailed over her for the last time.

He was familiar with every inch of her body. He had her face memorized so clearly he could paint a picture of it blindfolded. Had spent long moments admiring her beauty back when he was greedy for everything he could milk out of her.

She looked nothing like she was supposed to. The luscious pink lips he'd kiss for hours were tinged purple, dry and cracked. The red hair that he would bury his face in lost all vibrancy. Her slender fingers, always adorned in rings were bony and skeletal.

Under Lily's head was a folded handkerchief. A white handkerchief with a pink rose embroidered in the corner.

Vaguely, he registered her family members shooting spells at his back, trying to get close to him to pry him away from her. The enchantments wouldn't hold up for long, it was very complex and finicky magic that allowed him to walk into a shark tank unscathed, and it was only moments before her father would find a way to break through it.

Tom's hand moved from Lily's head to close over Rose's hand, giving it a final squeeze. Tearing his gaze away from her face, he finally turned and walked away.

In the last day of her life, he got to see the real her. Underneath everything that made her the well-mannered and emotionally stable girl, he got to see her raw power, her driven rage, and those haunting green eyes that he will never forget. It shook him to his core. Her parting words didn't help to ease any of his concern. And he knew it was a terrible idea to steal from her casket, of all people, but he couldn't help it.