The Years of Riddle

Prologue || New Years Eve, 1926

The Years of Riddle

Prologue

New Years Eve, 1926

            The wind was harsh on Merope Gaunt's back as she staggered towards the orphanages high gates. The steps seemed impossible to the heavily pregnant young woman, and she pulled the bell outside the gates while clutching her stomach. Her baby – a boy, she knew it – would be coming soon.

The door opened a crack and a girl not much younger than Merope herself peeked out. "Hullo?" she called.

"Help." Merope gasped. "Ple-please help me."

"Oh!" seeing Merope's stomach the girl threw open the doors and rushed down the steps, helping Merope up the steps. "Ms. Holt!" she called down the corridors. "Ms. Holt, come quick!"

An older lady appeared from one of the many doorways, immediately walking briskly down the halls. "Bring the girl to the closest room, I'll alert the midwife."

"My name is Marian Cole." The girl said and Merope gasped in return. Marian Cole did not judge the girl's lank hair, heavy face and eyes that looked in opposite directions; she was a kind hearted person and young herself. Merope Gaunt did not want her pity, and Marian would not give it.

"What's your name?" she asked gently as Merope collapsed on the bed, crying.

"Me-Merope." She sobbed. "Merope Gaunt."

Marian Cole didn't dwell on the girl's odd name, but wrote it down quickly and rushed to help Ms. Holt. "Her name is Merope." She said and was handed a towel and bowl of cold water.

Within the hour Merope Gaunt fell back onto the bed, gasping as her child came into the world. Marian Cole caught be babe and wrapped it up quickly. Outside the window it snowed heavily, and Merope lay helplessly as the baby was placed on her rags covered chest.

"It's a boy." Whispered Marian.

Merope barely moved her skinny arms, but traced her finger along the tiny head of her child. Her heart began to slow. The baby was washed and fed from a bottle, as Merope began to fade.

"I don't think she's going to make it." Ms. Holt said, very straightforward.

"What?" Marian gave a startled look to the matron. "She –"

"You are not far from being matron yourself Marian," Ms. Holt said. "If you want to be you must accept this – poppers get pregnant and die, that's the way the world works."

"Ms. Holt, the child..."

"Will stay with us." Ms. Holt handed her the baby. "Go, see if she needs anything."

Marian took the swaddled tiny scrap of infant and sat on the edge of Merope Gaunt's bed.

"Merope?" she whispered, rocking the baby. "Would you like to hold him?"

"I hope he looks like his papa." Merope's eyes fluttered open. "His name is Tom." Her voice was barely audible. "For his father. Marvolo, for my father." She coughed, wandering eyes strained on her baby. Marian laid the infant by his mother's side. "And Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Marian nodded, fighting back her tears. She had never seen anyone die before. "Okay Merope, it's – it's okay."

"His name is Tom." She said again, almost smiling. "For his father."

"It's okay Merope, he'll be okay." Marian grasped the young mothers cold hand.

Merope's eyes didn't leave her son, as if she were memorizing his face. "Tom." She said one last time, eyes fluttering closed.

Marian let out a little sob, tears running down her cheeks. She was a plain girl herself, and she sympathised with Merope. Picking the baby up from its mother's limp arms, Marian passed Ms. Holt.

"Put the baby in a crib," she said, pretending not to see her tears. "You may have to double him with someone."

Climbing the narrow stairs, Marian held Tom close to her chest. The nursery had ten babies, all expected to be adopted sooner or later. She went to the end, near the window; the snow was so pretty falling over London, covering the soot and smog. Merope Gaunt would never see snow again.

"Here you are Tom," she whispered, carefully laying the babe in the crib by the window. "You can watch the snow with Gwyn here." The babe, only a week older than Tom, was a miracle in the eyes of the doctor – she had a weak heart. Gwyn's mother had been just like Tom's, a popper looking for a safe place for her baby. Except Gwyn's mother had been beautiful, stunning even in her rags and covered in soot. "If you can beat your heart and the odds, Gwyn," Marian whispered, watching the babies amber eyes study her new crib mate. "Then maybe you'll just find a life long friend in Tom here."

Tom Riddle opened his newborn eyes and saw Gwyn. They would both be there for many, many years to come.

A/N: It's been a long time coming, but the spin-off of my one-shot "Amber Eyes" is FINALLY HERE. I wrote this over December, and was just sort of waiting out my own comitment to it. I have a few chapters written and the whole book planned, but we'll see. Either way, here it is.

More of Gwyn Phi next. I think you'll all like her...

Question: Thoughts on where this is going?

Rose

P.S External link is "Amber Eyes" in case you haven't read it.