A/N:
Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)
Relationship: Mary Riddle/Tom Riddle Junior
1000 Word Challenge: Mistake
Gringotts: HP Locations – Wool's Orphanage; Nouns – Hood, Smog, Road, South, Family, Name, Mistake, Shack, Conversation, Chance, Effort, Legacy, Husband, Mother, Shock, Birth, Photograph, Journey, Sorrow, Grave, Patch, Roof, Rat, Scene, Pain, Skirt, Decision, Visitor, Grandchildren, Grandson, Grandfather, Grandmother; Adjectives – Another, Private, Unfortunate, Fateful, Initial, Horrific, Alive, Narrow, Bland, Opposite, Long, Black, Related, Tight; Verbs – Tarnish, Uncover, Interact, Exist, Depart, Chase, Remain, Destroy, Remove, Return, Seek, Listen; Compound Words – Anyone, Understatement, Grandchildren, Grandson, Grandfather, Grandmother, Inside, Himself; Family Vocab – Grandchildren, Husband, Mother,
Word Count: 1448
Monster
Mary Riddle drew her hood closer around her face as she briskly walked down the smog filled cobbled road in south London.
The last thing she wanted was to be recognised by anyone and tarnish the Riddle family name even more than it already had been done by her son.
It had been seven years since her son's fateful mistake in marrying that disgusting psycho from the shack, so to say she was surprised when her name cropped up in conversation a few weeks previously would be an understatement.
Mary and her husband had been lamenting over the fact that Tom had all but given up on the idea of marriage, despite their many encouraging words towards him that Cecilia would give him another chance if only he made more of an effort with her.
When her stubborn son had refused point blank Mary had the most unfortunate and unbecoming outburst about how she wanted to have grandchildren to carry on the Riddle name and legacy.
Mary had been most taken aback when her son had angrily informed her that if his ex wife had been telling the truth then she already had one.
Once she had recovered from the initial shock of discovering she could have a grandchild out there, who could very easily be corrupted by the woman who had bewitched her son, Mary hired a private investigator to uncover the truth of the matter.
And last week she finally got her answer after a couple of weeks of nervous waiting. She had a grandson who was named after his father and grandfather, Tom, and he was residing in an orphanage in London. According to the private investigator the mother had died mere moments after giving birth. That very fact broke Mary's heart; Merope Gaunt may have been a man stealing hussy, but no child deserved to grow up without knowing a mother's love. She was determined to make sure he had all the love he needed and bring him into her family.
With that in mind and a small photograph of the boy who was the spitting image of her son at that age, Mary had started making preparations for her journey south.
She glanced up and saw the shabby wooden sign that read Wool's Orphanage and sorrow filled her heart. Mary couldn't begin to imagine the horrific conditions that she would find inside.
"A Riddle growing up in this place," she muttered to herself. "My Tom's father would be turning in his grave if he was still alive."
Mary raised her hand and rapped three times on the door and waited.
A harried woman with sharp features appeared at the door moments later.
"Mrs Riddle I presume," she greeted her with a smile on her face.
Mary nodded her head curtly, and followed the middle aged woman inside the orphanage that appeared to be just as shabby on the inside as it was on the outside.
The out of date wallpaper was peeling away from the wall, the wooden floorboards appeared as though they hadn't been scrubbed well in a long time and they creaked quietly with every step she took, and there was a patch of damp on the roof that looked as though it should have been tended to years ago
I have to get my grandson out of this place, she thought to herself as she noticed a rat scurrying across the floor out of the corner of her eye.
"I'll take you through to the day room where you can see Tom," Mrs Cole told her, not sounding at all phased by the fact that they had rats.
Their heels clacked quietly against the dusty floorboards as Mrs Cole led her down a narrow corridor, and opened the bland beige door to the day room.
"That's Tom over there in the corner," Mrs Cole informed her pointing towards the lonely boy who was staring at two girls playing ring a ring a roses in the centre of the room. "He keeps very much to himself and doesn't interact much with the other children."
Just as Mary was about to form a response one of the girls suddenly collapsed to the ground and started to fit.
"That's little Amy Benson," Mrs Cole told her quietly. "She has seizures every now and then. Nothing to worry about. Martha knows how to help her."
As Mrs Cole informed her of this, the young woman who was standing on the opposite side of the room raced over towards the little girl and attempted to restrain her.
Her eyes flickered away from the horrific scene of the fitting girl and towards her grandson who had stepped out of the shadows and was looking at the girl with a cold and menacing stare.
Before that moment, Mary had never thought it possible for magic to exist but one glance at Tom told her all she needed to know. He was the one inflicting the pain on that poor little girl.
How is he doing that? Mary thought to herself as she looked at the young boy who was staring intensely at the young girl convulsing on the ground. He's just as strange if not worse than that good for nothing mother of his, and completely beyond redemption.
Just looking at him now, Mary knew that there was no way on God's green earth she would bring that abomination into her home.
When she returned she would inform her husband that as he predicted it had been a wasted journey and that the private investigator had hoodwinked her. There was no point in breaking his heart by telling him what a little terror he was.
Mary turned to the lady showing her the room and said, "I think I've seen enough."
As the two ladies left the room, Tom's focus on the little girl broke and he whipped around just in time to see the long black skirt of Mary depart the room.
He didn't know why but he had a strange feeling that he was connected to her somehow and that she had betrayed him. His eyes remained focused for a few beats on the spot where she had been stood moments ago before he made the impulsive decision to chase after them.
He ran down the corridor that led towards the front door and stopped just in the shadows of the staircase.
"Thank you Mrs Riddle. Are you quite sure you wish for Tom to remain here?" Mrs Cole asked quietly.
Tom was no idiot and he could hear the hope in her voice. She wanted the woman to take him. The woman who was a Riddle, just like he was. Could they be related?
He strained his ears to listen for more, growing more and more curious about the visitor.
"I'm quite sure. He seems happy enough and to be honest he would not fit in with our family," the woman replied in a frank voice. "Grandson or not, I cannot allow him to destroy what is left of our good name."
Tom felt his eyes darken as he thought of all the terrible things that could befall the woman who had searched for him and then decided she didn't want him.
All of a sudden, Mrs Riddle began to choke and gasp for breath. Her hand reached for the doorframe as she doubled over.
Go on, die you horrible woman, Tom thought to himself as he stepped out the shadows and revealed himself to them.
"Tom, stop this at once," Mrs Cole cried, recognising the look in his eye. It was the look he always had when terrible things happened to other people.
"I'm not doing anything," Tom replied in a cold voice, his eyes never leaving Mrs Riddle. "She is. She's a grandmother who doesn't want her grandson. She deserves it."
Two hands suddenly grasped Tom from behind and pulled him backwards and towards his room.
He kicked his legs and struggled to remove himself from the tight grasp of the man restraining him as he lost sight of Mrs Riddle.
A couple of moments after the boy was out of sight Mary felt her breathing begin to return to normal and her eyes snapped towards Mrs Cole, before she wrenched open the door and fled from the Wool's Orphanage.
The woman half ran and half walked for several blocks before she finally paused to catch her breath.
She didn't know how and she didn't know why but she was quite certain that her grandson had just attempted to kill her.
He was a monster, and she could only hope that boy would never try to seek her or her family out.
A/N:
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