Love hurts
"Tom. I'll call you Tom. Like your daddy was before you. You'll look like him, with dark hair, and pale skin. And you'll be a wizard, like me, the most talented wizard Hogwarts has ever seen. You'll be tall, strong, powerful, you will be the best. You'll grow into a strong man.
You are my legacy, my gift to the world. It's all up to you now Tom. You carry forward my name, my family, my blood and my love. You will be the lasting reminder of my cardinal sin, of my mistakes but also of my successes.
Don't make the same mistakes that I did Tom. Don't ever let anybody tell you what to do. Don't let anybody scare you. You're better than them, you're stronger than them. You can do anything that you want to. Nobody has power over you. Nobody can take anything from you my Tom.
Never make the same mistake as me, never let yourself fall in love. It is love that breaks people. It is love that takes your soul, your power, your magic and rips it into shards. It is love that desecrates your life force, feeding it before starving it to death. You are better than love, you don't deserve the pain, the heartbreaking pain, that comes from unrequited love. I wish I could spare you from that pain."
"Hey, love, why are you talking to yourself?" A grubby old man called to her from across the dark alley. Probably a muggle, she thought. This was what love had reduced her to. She, the great Merope Gaunt, was sharing dark cold London alleyways with Muggle vagrants, scrounging for food. She couldn't let this happen to her son, to her Tom. Suddenly her fathers voice echoed into her head.
"There are curses in this world that can change emotions, or disable them altogether, premenantly. Almost like a dementors kiss. Of course they wouldn't tell you about this at Hogwarts, nancy-boy school if you ask me. Good thing neither of you are going there. All those Mudbloods, I wouldn't stand for it. My heirs learning with that riff-raff…unthinkable. But it's possible, using Dark magic, to rid a person of any emotion you choose." Marvolo Gaunt had said to his two children in Parseltongue.
Merope had sat in silence, too afraid of interrupting her father to speak. In Pureblood families girls were seen and not heard. In reality she was terrified. Magic with the ability to contort a person's emotions was too advanced for her nine year old brain to comprehend. Her older brother Morfin, however, had no such qualms. In fact, he was highly interested.
"Really Father, so you could suck all the happiness from a person? Just by using a spell? Like torturing them?"
"Yes Morfin theoretically of course. There's no record of it ever actually having been done. But usually Dementors are used for that. This is used for more specific emotions, like greed, envy, love, hate, anger, things like that. It is very difficult to do them well but I am in no doubt that one of the great line of Salazar Slytherin himself would have no such trouble,"
Merope remembered her fathers' arrogance well. He had thought they were above the law, above everything, just because they were of the line of Slytherin.
"But the curse, Tom, could I…maybe…but I haven't done magic in so long. I doubt I'd have the power…but…maybe…just maybe. I'd need to research of course, but I can do that easily in Knockturn Alley…maybe Tom. I could save you, save you from the pain and the humiliation that I know so well."
XxXxXx
And so, the next morning, Merope carefully made her way to Knocturn Alley. This was her first contact with the Wizarding World since she had married Tom Riddle, the Muggle from the big house behind hers. Slowly, carefully, as if trying to remember the way through the street that she'd been to so many times since she was little, she made her way towards the huge public library. This was a mountain of wisdom on Dark Magic and forbidden curses. If she was going to find the spell to save Tom in a book then here was the place to begin looking.
She found nothing that day, but returned the day after, and the day after that, and the day after that. Every day for a week she came to the library and still she didn't find anything. After seven days spent looking she was becoming desperate. She had just finished scanning the contents of Dark Curses and Creatures: How to make sure your enemies are hurt and not your friends when she noticed a door in the library wall. Curiously she dropped the dusty book that she was reading and pushed the door open.
The room inside was dark and dusty. It had probably not been used in years. She made her way inside, carrying her stubby candle ahead of her. Here, there were great tomes, littering the walls and a tiny reading desk in the centre of the room. Carefully she carried her candle over to the desk and lit it in a flickering light before going to a nearby shelf and pulling down a book.
Time passed. Finally she found it. What she had been spending so much time looking for.
The Rem Affecto Curse
This curse is capable of removing any emotion from a person and placing it into an object of the cursor's choosing. This object then holds the emotion of the person until it is broken or the one who has been cursed dies.
This curse is very difficult to cast and relies strongly on the casters wishes, rather than the exact wording of the spell. The words can be said in English although the curse is more powerful when said in Latin.
To cast this curse tap your wand twice against the object that you wish to infuse with the emotion of your victim, state their full name, and then this incantation.
I (Caster's name) do give the emotion, (particular emotion) of (Victim's name or relationship to caster) to this (Object)
In Latin this is
Ego, (Caster's name) debeo affecti, (Particular emotion) (Victim's name) ad hanc (rem. Or object of your choosing)
Warning: This curse uses a lot of magic and should not be undertaken lightly as it can have serious implications for the caster.
It was perfect. She had found the perfect way to save her son. She set to work immediately, translating what she wanted to say into latin to make the curse even more powerful. Then she chose an object, and object befitting of her son's emotions, something important to her as well as to her family, and her son. Her hand strayed to the locket that hung around her neck. Perfect. She drew her wand. She was ready.
She took a deep breath and began to incantation.
"Ego, Merope Gaunt, debeo affecti, amor, filius meus ad hanc anulo." She said, almost feeling the power. Almost. She hadn't done magic in so long. What if it didn't work? What if she couldn't do it? What if her son was doomed to live a life tortured by lost love life she had done. No. She wouldn't allow it. Again she said the incantation, with more desperation, more power.
"Ego, Merope Gaunt, debeo affecti, amor, filius meus ad hanc anulo." This time she felt it, the power, crawling through her body, out of her limbs, her heart, her mind. She saw the green light, speckled with red, joining her wand to the locket for a moment before fading. There. It was done. Now she just needed to get rid of the evidence.
XxXxXx
"I'll give you ten Galleons for it," Caractacus Burke said. Merpoe knew not to expect any better. He probably didn't even believe that it had been Slytherin's. She didn't need lots of money anyway; she could get a room at one of the cheaper hotels in Knockturn alley up until she had Tom. Once he was born, well, she didn't need to worry about her own living arrangements any more.
"Done," she said, grinning, and handed over her oldest family treasure, complete with the love of her son locked inside, to the shopkeeper.
XxXxXx
Christmas came and went. Merope didn't really notice it. She didn't notice anything any more. She was finding it harder and harder to keep awake all day and was forgetting to eat regularly. She knew why. It was the spell. All she could do was pray that she could have Tom before the final side effect of the curse occurred.
Snow was falling. It was New Years Eve. Almost 1926, Merope thought. How things had changed in the last year. She'd gained everything she'd ever wanted and lost it all again just as quickly. Now, there was nothing left for her to live for. Love was killing her, slowly and surely, it was. She didn't want that for Tom. She was right to have taken it from him. She knew she was. There was no use in having second thoughts now. The spell was in motion, and almost ready to be sealed with her death.
She was walking in Knockturn Alley when it happened. A pain gripped at her lower stomach.
"Tom…" She moaned. She couldn't have him in the middle of Knockturn Alley. Nor could she go to St. Mungo's, they might cure the curse there. She struggled to the exit and made her way into the backstreets of Muggle London.
"I'm sorry Tom, I'm sorry you had to be born here, and grow up as a filthy Muggle. But it's all for the best Tom, I promise." She tripped up the stairs of a Muggle Orphanage, the first place she found that looked capable of delivering a baby.
"Nearly Tom, nearly…"
XxXxXx
"You've had a lovely baby boy! Isn't he precious! Here darling, would you like to hold him?" An old lady said to her, "And he needs a name…"
"His name…his name…is Tom, after his father, then Marvolo, after mine. And his last name…his last name is Riddle, like his dad…" Merope choked out, the dual exhaustion of childbirth and the curse pressing down on her. Suddenly she felt a warm bundle being pressed into her arms, a tiny life, hers, her son. A feeling welled inside her, overpowering everything else. It was in that moment that she realized. This was love, real love, not the kind of love she had felt for Tom Riddle Sr. That was a crush, a childish fantasy, how could she have thought that that was truly love.
Love was all powerful, all knowing, love was the best feeling in the world. And then she remembered what she had done, remembered the curse. She had deprived her son of this, forever.
"Tom…" she whispered so that none other than the tiny life in her arms could hear, " I love you…I'm so…sorry…my Tom…" And she kissed the baby's head as her life ebbed from her, pulled onwards by the curse. A curse she had cast on her own son.
XxXxXx