Author's Note 1: This is a side fic to my gender bend story , 'Loving a Snake', where Harry Potter is a female. The events of the story take place during the second year, but she never gets her hands on the diary and in a turn of events, is kidnapped by Tom possessing Ginny. I don't own Harry Potter; it solely belongs to J.K. Rowling!
Author's Note 2: This story was written for The Houses Competition Year 3.
House: Ravenclaw
Year: 7
Category: Drabble
Prompt: [Theme] Regret
Word count: 735
Marvolo had been in the same situation far too many times for his own liking, but never before had he been the reason for bringing tears to her beautiful emerald eyes. His job was to wipe the salty tears away, taking along with them the pain and cruel words that had been thrown at her. For the past 11 years, his purpose in life was to take care of her, teach her the harsh reality that was 'life'; his mind always revolving around her in one way or another. The soul that once belonged to the darkest wizard of all time, now was at Harriet's leash.
Marvolo's mere existence now, was defined in two words- Harriet Potter.
He wondered now, if spitting out the truth was a good idea or not. Pondered what would happen now when she finally knew what a cold-hearted monster he was; was before meeting her, knowing her. Internally chided upon the thought, if she will ever call him 'Marvolo' again, in that sweet voice of hers; him- the murderer of her parents' and the sole reason for the hellish life she was forced to live.
"Why did you not tell me this any sooner?" Harriet's voice was so small that it nearly tore him to pieces; millions of them, like shards of a broken mirror.
Regret. An emotion once completely unknown to him, that was what Marvolo was feeling at that moment.
He could have lied easily to her, if he wanted to, but he didn't. He didn't because he knew it was time for her to finally come out of her shell and let the wizarding world know who would be their future leader. He didn't lie about his real identity, when it was finally revealed, because he knew it was time to make Dumbledore realise how horribly wrong his plan had gone when all those years ago he had left them at the mercy of the Dursleys.
"Because I was terrified, dearest." He took the silence that followed as the permission to continue.
"Absolutely frightened at how might I apologise to you and plead forgiveness. Afraid of how to justify my rash actions. I was terrified of the guilt creeping up on me ever since the night you were dropped off at the doorstep of those monstrous muggles."
He had felt guilty when he saw how Harriet's own blood treated her. He vividly remembers the night they were shoved into the cupboard under the stairs, remembers Harriet's shrill cries being ignored, when the desolated child wanted nothing more than to be held and comforted by her aunt. Marvolo had been fuming in anger at how the muggles were treating a magical child, because not even the matrons of the orphanage were this horrible to him.
He had been regretful every time Harriet had went back to bed with a growling stomach and an aching heart. He held himself responsible for the black and blue bruises covering her slim form, and all the times she was forced to feel worthless. . He blamed himself when she was scared of the too dark cupboard, or whenever her heart broke at the site of Dudley being worshipped.
And, every time, he had made sure to be there for her. Not only because he knew how difficult it was to be all alone or because he wanted to manipulate her. Marvolo made sure to be there for Harriet at every turn of life, because in a way he was asking for forgiveness. He did not know how to apologise, didn't know how to say 'I'm sorry, dearest', because he knew that action spoke louder than words and so he did the same. He did things her parents would have taught her(except for Quidditch), he encouraged her partake in activities she liked, allowed her to live a childhood he never got. Slowly and steadily, he became her home.
"I'm sorry, dearest." He spoke. The words, so heavy and foreign on his tongue.
"Why are you saying it now?" Harriet questioned, voice still hoarse.
"Because it's the least I could say." She immediately recognised the regretful tone in his voice, not quite sure about her feelings at the moment, but she didn't hesitate to hold him just a little tighter because she knew how uncomfortable it was for him to show emotions like this; after all Harriet knew him better than she knew herself.