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Hi, I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER. Well, I won him at a raffle once, but Ginny fought me to the death for him, and she had a wand. Needless to say, Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, Merope, or any other assorted characters from Harry Potter.

I rounded the corner, the English cobblestone pounding beneath my feet. I was glad I had left my wizard's robe at head quarters, though the clothes worn by 1940s British hipsters weren't much weirder. The skirts were straight and the blouses were on the masculine side, but the oddness came from those who could not afford to buy clothes and had to make them instead. One woman had a jacket made out of what appeared to be the fabric from umbrellas. My personal favourite was a man whose pants were simply two sown potato sacks.

But it wasn't that strange, and I was thankful for my a-line and my peacoat, which hid my formal button down. I didn't want to attract too much attention to my self; people would start asking questions. Questions that did not have easy answers.

The time turner hung round my neck bumped against my chest as my pace quickened. I stopped at a street corner and put it in my bag. On the off chance someone saw it there could be quite a problem.

I turned into a big hall and spied the person I was looking for. He was good looking, pale and tall with smooth, dark hair. With him was a less charming looking woman, though her happy smile almost eradicated the sadness in her eyes.

The hall was large, filled with people dancing and being merry. The blushing bride and her dashing groom were the center of attention, as people went up to them delivering expensive gifts and synthetic smiles.

"Well hello there!" I smiled sweetly at Merope and nodded at Tom, trying my best to look as though I belonged. My accent faltered, and I hoped nobody would notice that my dialog was more Canadian than English.

"Hello…" Riddle's voice trailed off, he was trying to remember who I was and why I was at his wedding.

"My name is Rosemary, I just moved here. Somebody told me that you all were having a wedding, so I figured I might swing down and give my blessings."

"Why thank you!" Merope seemed genuinely surprised at this. I could see why, the few people I had actually talked to were not the sort of people to spread good will. I knew that just about all of the people that had shown up for the wedding were there for the free food.

"Any big plans for honeymooning?" I asked, in an innocent way.

"Well, Tom here is Ingeloteckian, so we aren't aloud to see each other for three months after the wedding. Then we're going to be honeymooning in London."

I knew this all already, but nodded and smiled as though it was all interesting news. Then I quickly said goodbye, telling them I had to use the lavatory, and slipped outside.

I rummaged in my bag for their presents, which I would leave on the gifts table in the corner of the room. It had only a few cheap presents; my contribution would be the highlight of the reception.

Merope's gift was expansive French perfume and a satin scarf that I knew would bring out her eyes. I sighed, knowing what had become of her in my world. I hoped desperately that what I was doing would change that.

Tom's gift was the most macho thing I could find, some shiny silver cuff links. Smiling, I slipped in the note and went back to the party.

Tom Riddle was opening his wedding presents alone, his wife and he had already been separated. He didn't know why he loved her, but he was almost obsessed, and knew not seeing her would be unbarable.

He took out her gift, a special Egyptian wine, and took a sip. She had told him to drink some every day while they were apart, that it would remind him of her. He smiled. Merope was so thoughtful.

Then he opened the gift from that strange Rosemary girl. Nobody he had talked to seemed to recognize her, and she was not in the phone books. When he unwrapped the present he was shocked, it was cuff links made of silver. His eyebrows were lost in jet-black hair, and his dark eyes were wide in surprise.

He proceeded to try them on, then noticing the note that had fallen out of the box they'd come in.

Dear Mr. Riddle,

Congratulations on your wedding, I hope that you and Merope are happy for a long, long time. You and Mrs. Riddle seem very happy to be getting married and I wish you the best of luck in your relationship. I know that you two will share a very passionate reunion. However, I must give you this one piece of advice: Use a condom.

This is best for all us.

Rosemary Smith

(I own Rosemary, though.)