It's amazing.
How you could just open up the newspaper one day, one ordinary, normal day, and find the love of your life staring back at you from it.
Fifteen years he had been gone.
Fifteen years he had been believed to be dead.
For fifteen years his death had been a cause of celebration, of rejoicing.
The entire Wizarding world had been amazed, absolutely astonished when a small boy, no older than one had defeated him.
But nobody, nobody, knew the man behind the mask.
Not a single person.
Except for her.
Oh, she wasn't pardoning the murders.
Or the torture
Or the crimes.
She just wished that someone, anyone, knew what he had used to be.
Back, almost fifty years ago.
How he had looked at her that one day
After two years of her careful watching,
And how he had walked forward, black hair swinging ever so slightly into his face.
How he had produced a single rose from thin air
And how he had placed it delicately, oh so delicately, into her stunned hands.
How he had walked away.
She had fallen in love with him, with the tall, dark and handsome Tom Riddle.
She had fallen so hard that it hurt, even now, to see what he had become.
Because it wasn't supposed to be this way.
He was supposed to tell her that he loved her
And that they were going to be married
And that they would one day have little children, running around on the Riddle estates.
That was the way it was supposed to be.
Instead he turned away from her
From her declaration.
She had spent weeks, you know.
Arguing with herself
Wondering if she really, truly had the heart to tell him.
To tell him the truth.
That she loved him.
And then, that day that she finally revealed what she had kept inside for so long,
He turned away from her.
And he left.
It had broken her heart, it had.
And it was a secret that she would take with her to the grave.
It wasn't as if she didn't know of his cruelty, even back then.
The way certain people would get hurt, the certain people that might have offended him.
But oddly enough, she found that she didn't care.
That it didn't matter.
And it made her sick, sick, sick, sick, she knew.
That she didn't care about so many people's pain.
That she only cared about one person's pain, the one person who caused so much hurt that the entire world hated him.
Loathed him.
Feared him.
But she couldn't help her heart.
She couldn't help the feelings that surfaced, every time she looked into his cold black eyes.
And now, years and years and years from the time he had given her that single rose
She sat in her kitchen
Her own children playing in front of the fireplace
Her morning coffee slipping from her fingers
As her trembling hands rose up to a still red mouth.
When she sees the picture of the man she loved so many years ago
His face waxy, distorted, unrecognizable, it seems from the handsome man he had used to be.
But she can recognize it.
She would always recognize it.
Forever, she would recognize it.
No matter how much she hated him, how much she feared him, and how much she wished with all her heart that it wasn't true,
She loved him.
And the horrible part was
That would never change.
Okay. So I totally understand that everyone who reads this is going to be like, OMG YOU ARE A FREAK, HOW CAN YOU WRITE ABOUT VOLDY IN THIS WAY, HE'S EVIL, EVIL, EVILLLLL, HE CAN'T HAVE SOMEONE FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM, HE KILLED HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE, YOU ARE A FREEEAAAAKKKKKK. Butttttt, this is my perverse reasoning:
Everyone has to have someone who loves them, right? Riddle was supposed to be extraordinarily handsome as a kid, so why didn't anyone like him? Even he has to have had a soulmate, or whatever you want to call it, and I can't imagine that there wasn't at least one person at Hogwarts who didn't fall in love with him. And it's against human nature (and Riddle, at least, was human) to not love, right? So he must have had SOME feelings for SOMEone. Even if nobody else knew about it.
But yeah, this is stupid, I know, I know, I have some mental issues. :P But hey, it's called fanfiction for a reason, right? :D
So please read and review, flames are accepted, haha.
~Fanta-Faerie
