Not About Angels (A Tom Riddle Story)

Chapter 62

"Before...before she died, sir, she was five weeks pregnant." The doctor whispered, hoping to not upset Marvolo. 

Marvolo sighed deeply as he drew the white cloth over her body. 

"Who did this? Any leads?" He asked the Auror next to him. 

"Sir...we can't determine anything at this point..." 

Marvolo waved him aside, annoyed. "Of course you fucking can't!" 

"Tonkins!" Marvolo snapped, waving his assistant over. 

"Sir." The assistant bowed. 

"Call in the funeral planner right away. Also, get my secretary. She needs to immediately compile a guest list for the mourning session before the funeral. Get it approved to me before sending out anything. Send in my publicist also. We need to come up with a strategy to deal with the press."   

Gabriel sat in the corner, completely silent, his eyes swollen and red. 

"Father..." he spoke softly, his voice raspy from the crying. 

"Yes, boy. What is it?" Marvolo said impatiently.   

"Don't you think it's too soon for a gathering? Shouldn't we mourn in private and give her some privacy..." 

Marvolo turned around. "What do you mean?" 

"It's all too sudden.." Gabriel said.

"You know what, write a letter to your grandfather, Gabriel. Better yet, go visit him. Make sure he's not angry with us." Marvolo instructed, keen to keep on good terms with the Minister. The Minister was always much more found of his grandson than his cold son-in-law.  

"I-is that all you can think about, father?" Gabriel asked finally seeing the man before him clearly for the first time. 

Marvolo sighed. "Gabriel...you know that's not what I meant. I just want you to be in touch with family during these difficult times, that's all. I know you're suffering. Trust me, I'm more devastated than anyone. But we must put up a strong front and maintain good public graces. The entire wizarding world is watching us."  

Gabriel shook his head. "Father..." he began, tears filling his eyes. Marvolo looked at him disapprovingly. 

"Don't cry, boy. The Delaciroux heir does not cry. I never cry. Whatever you feel, keep it inside. Go freshen up now, we have guests coming soon." 

"Chin up." Marvolo reminded him, giving him a pat on the shoulder on the way out.  

Marvolo walked to the door, great concern rising in his mind. 

The boy was a mess. He was so different from Marvolo. He was weak. Emotional. Soft. 

Now that his wife was dead, Marvolo must begin to ponder his inheritance and the future of the Delacrioux dynasty. They had been trying to conceive another child. She was going to surprise him by announcing the pregnancy on their wedding anniversary later that month, but never had the chance to.  Marvolo once told his wife that he wanted another child so they would not be lonely. In truth, it was because he was unsatisfied with the boy who never quite lived up to his standards. 

He turns around to look at the slumped shoulders of the sobbing, quivering boy. 

Was this really to be the heir of all his fortunes? 

....................................................

She opened her eyes. Her head hurt, her surroundings were blurry.