For the Hogwarts Forum
Writing Club-
Showtime, "That Would Be Enough" (fragment)
Days of the Month (Pardon Day: Write about forgiveness)
Themed List (Little Hangleton)
Word Count: 687
"Don't be out too late, darling," her father calls as she starts for the door. "It's improper for a lady to be out unaccompanied at this hour."
Cecilia smiles sweetly. "I'm only visiting the horses, Father," she assures him before slipping out the door.
A gentle breeze tickles her skin, sending her curls whipping wildly against her face. Cecilia smiles. Since Tom left, the peace and quiet are the only things that seem to keep her happy.
She's halfway to the stable when she hears heavy, unsteady footfalls. Cecilia freezes, clutching her necklace. Icy fear grips her, but she somehow finds the courage to turn. The sight of the familiar young man makes her sway, and she feels as though she might faint. "Tom?"
Tom… Her beloved Tom. Cecilia shakes her head, unable to believe that he's really there. Surely he must be a figment of her imagination.
The figure steps closer. Cecilia gasps. Though the man who stands before her is clearly Tom Riddle, one glance makes it obvious that he isn't her Tom. The dark hair he always took pride in is now disheveled. His eyes are wild rimmed with shadows. His suit is dirty and tattered. "Cecilia," he whispers, and even his voice has changed. It's hoarse and just as broken as he appears to be.
Her blood boils. The Gaunt girl has done this. There is no doubt in Cecilia's mind.
"Cecilia," Tom says again, stumbling forward. "Thank God. Thank God."
She wants to turn and run back into the house. He broke her heart. However much she wants to blame Merope, Tom is just as guilty. And yet she finds herself rushing to him, arms outstretched. She's spent so much time in church, praying that he would return to Little Hangleton. Perhaps the circumstances aren't ideal, but her prayers have been answered.
"That woman… That whore," he murmurs. "She… Witch. I didn't… I didn't…"
Before she can even think of anything to say to him, he collapses at her feet.
…
"Did he say anything to you?" Mrs. Riddle asks, gripping Cecilia's hands gently.
"Only fragments of thoughts," Cecilia answers. "He was delusional."
The older woman nods sadly. "What has that woman done to my child?" she whispers, her eyes flickering toward the bedroom where Tom is now resting.
"May I see him?"
Mrs. Riddle narrows her eyes slightly. "Hardly proper, seeing as you are now betrothed," she says coldly.
Cecilia keeps her head held high. She understands the woman's hesitancy. After all, reputation is everything among the wealthy families of Little Hangleton. "Please," she says softly. "When he went away, it hurt me as much as it hurt you. I loved him, Mrs. Riddle."
Mrs. Riddle purses her lips. After a moment, she offers Cecilia a shrug before gesturing her forward. "Be brief. He needs his rest."
Without a word, Cecilia walks past her and into the room. Someone has moved a chair beside the bed; Cecilia sits in it, staring at the slumbering man.
She's often wondered what she might say to him if he ever returned. She's imagined the anger that would guide her, the many names that she would call him. Now, all those things fade away, and all she feels for him is pity.
I didn't… I didn't…
Cecilia wonders what he wanted to say. He didn't mean to hurt her, didn't mean to run off with that vile woman?
She rests a trembling hand on his, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. He seems like a stranger now, but his touch is still so familiar. Cecilia feels a calm wash over her, and though tears cling to her lashes, a smile pulls at her lips.
"I forgive you," she whispers.
There's a knock at the door. When she glances up, she finds her father standing there, tapping his foot impatiently. Cecilia gives Tom's hand a gentle squeeze before climbing to her feet and walking away.
As she leaves the room, she tries to pretend she notice the pain. She pretends to be oblivious to the fact that she's lost her happily ever after all over again.