The glass full of lemonade slipped from his pale fingers and shattered on the dusty road, but the man didn't seem to hear the sudden crash; instead, his dark blue eyes fluttered as he stared at her fixedly. They were hazy and befuddled, as if a cloudy day had come upon them. The glossy chestnut mare behind him lowered his head to graze.
"Merope..." it was the longing in his voice that she found staggering. Her name, for once, sounded beautiful when it was his voice that was tasting it. Merope backed up a step, still uncertain. She needed to be sure this wasn't a trick.
The man in front of her was no ordinary man. He was Tom Riddle of House Riddle and his family was the richest Muggle family around. As a result, the family owned the small village of Little Hangleton and they made certain that everyone knew it. Even now, she could see the roof of the mansion just over the road that was the Riddle House. Tom Riddle was an only child and thus, he was spoiled beyond belief. His abundance of money coupled with extremely handsome features promised him the attention of every girl in town. She briefly wondered how this man had even learned her name before the excitement drove it from her mind.
Merope was the exact opposite of Tom in every way. She was stumpy and odd, with unwashed hair and crooked teeth. One of her eyes looked left while the other looked right and down a bit. Living in poverty could have been the reason she had an uneasy haunted look; however, it also might have been from the abuse she endured living with the Gaunt's. Only one thing was even remotely special about Merope, but her being a witch only seemed to make excellent sport for her brother, Morfin.
Today, however, it was going to be her secret weapon. After the Aurors had taken her angry father and sneaky brother away, she had been alone and lost. In her solitude, however, she discovered her increased magical potential. While it had previously been unstable, now her talents had a certain dependability. The more she waved her wand without fear of torment, the surer the motions became and thus resulted in better outcomes of the spell. In addition, while she was cleaning one day, she discovered what was left of her mother's things. Buried beneath a rotten floorboard in her father's room, she happened upon the ancient Potion's tome that had this particular Riddle man consequently staring at her like she was an enchanted goddess that had come down from the heavens. It was after she read through the contents of the book that she promised herself that the man she had waited for every day, hanging outside her window listening intently for the clip-clop of hooves, would be her's forever. She had had only the slightest hesitation upon adding the last ingredient, the powdered Moonstone, to the potent love potion known as Amortentia. Even now, she couldn't say why.
Butterflies flew across her vision and an unimaginable feeling of happiness flooded through Merope when Tom Riddle stepped forward and kissed her. Even the finest touch of magic couldn't compare to his fingers clinging to the tangles in her hair. While the kisses her father gave her when he drank were hard, uncouth and left her feeling unclean, Tom's were passionate and reassuring. She found herself reciprocating with enthusiasm and smothered his tongue with her own. The heat of the sun beating down upon them was nothing compared to the fire her body felt as he pulled her into him.
Tom Riddle, upon her eager response, gave a primal grunt and shoved her excitedly against trunk of the tree behind her. The force ignited enough of a flashback, "You disgusting little squib, you filthy little blood traitor!", that it shattered her from the moment and she fell to the rocky ground, terrified. After a moment of bracing herself, she remembered that her father had been locked up. Feeling silly and stupid, she glanced up. Tom was looking down at her with a confused expression.
"I am so sorry... I don't... I don't know what came over me!" he said, stepping forward to her.
"No, no. It's fine... Sorry, I just..." she said, tears threatening. She pushed herself back to her feet but even as she stumbled, he caught her and helped steady her. "Um... would you... would you like some more lemonade?" she asked anxiously.
Tom was known for his brilliant smile and she was graced with its full attention. "Oh, yes. Please."
Nervously, she stepped around him and, stomach twisting into knots, hobbled to the door of the Gaunt cottage and opened it by twisting the serpentine handle. The nettles, tall enough to even reach the grimy windows, swayed in a spontaneous wind. She heard Tom tie up his horse behind her and then follow her promptly.
Inside, the Gaunt house was only slightly cleaner than it had been when its other inhabitants had lived there. However, it was still noticeably poverty-stricken. A worn and patched armchair sat next to a fireplace that was currently starved in the summer heat. Merope glanced at it as she passed to the other side of the room which seemed to be a condensed kitchen. She grabbed a pitcher from the tiny table beside a grimy black stove and reached for two completely different cups from the diverse section of them placed precariously on the shelf above it.
"Oh my, you have a very beautiful home." Tom said, sitting in a unsteady chair and looking around. She smiled crookedly, wishing she had thought to fix it and maybe clean up a bit more.
"It... It's my fathers." she said and sat across from him. She poured him a short glass of the lemonade and then herself some.
"Where is he? I'd be honored to meet him." he said, eagerly. He ignored the lemonade sitting in front of him, eyes instead fixated on her.
"Oh! He... He and my brother went on a trip..." She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes, so she fidgeted nervously with her chipped mug instead.
"Well, I have to admit, I am happy you stayed. It is so wonderful to finally meet you and talk to you." He paused and then continued carefully. "Merope, I just have to tell you that you... You are just the most beautiful woman in town. Just the other day, Cecelia was telling me how jealous she is." As much as Merope didn't believe it, she reddened nonetheless.
"...Thank you, Tom." Still nervous, she sipped her lemonade. He continued, reassured.
"I don't know why I never worked up the courage to talk to you. I mean, I've ridden past your house every day. Cecelia was scared of your brother, I think. But you know, honestly, talking to such a beautiful woman can be very intimidating for a man, too. Oh, I wish I'd have said hello to you that day you were hanging upside down from the tree. You were young, do you remember? Your face was such a pretty purple color. Was it a game you and your brother played?"
Merope vividly remembered. Morfin had stolen a rope from somewhere and had said that he needed to make sure it wouldn't break, so he had tied her legs to a branch in the tree outside their house and pushed her off. She remembered hitting the trunk of the tree and breaking her nose and two of her teeth. When she cried, her father cut her down and sent her to her room. He didn't let her out for a week and would only give her food if she used her mouth for other deeds as well.
"No. It wasn't a game. Tom?"
"Yes, darling? What is it?"
"...Where is Cecelia today? Doesn't she normally ride with you?"
"Who? Oh, yes, Cecelia. I am sure she is off with the sheriff who is teaching her how to stay on the good side of the law." It seemed he suddenly remembered his refreshment and took a large gulp. "So... your father and brother won't be back for awhile?"
"Um... No... It is a rather long trip they have gone on."
"And they left such a fair maiden like yourself here all alone?" he asked, feigning shocked at the notion. "Well, no matter, I am here now." he said, sitting up straighter in the chair. "I shall protect you from the evils of the world." he shared his smile with her again and she felt dizzy smiling back.
"So, shall I stay here or will you come home with me?" It took a moment for the question to register in her mind but when it did Merope's eyes widened with a newfound panic. She suddenly realized that regardless of how Tom felt about her, she was still the same ugly Gaunt girl to everybody else. All of the magic in the world wouldn't change that cold fact. Even with magic at her disposal, she couldn't Imperius a whole town into liking her. Merope recognized that she had neglected to think through the effects of her actions. She had been so worried that the potion would fail that she never had even considered it actually working. Now, she knew, she needed to play out the rest of this scheme intelligently. If Tom were to stay at the Gaunt home, people would eventually look for him. If she told him to leave, she feared he would mention his affections for her to the Muggles. They would surely think he was mad and lock him away.
There was only one option: they would have to run away together.
Its not as if she would be leaving a whole lot behind; the house was ready to collapse anyway. It also seemed her father and brother would die in Azkaban before anyone in their right mind let them out. Merope knew she had a few family heirlooms, one of which hung from her neck that very second, that she might be able to part with for a decent price for in Diagon Alley, if it came down to it. Her magic would also help them get by.
But to be with Tom Riddle! Handsome, wonderful, sexy Tom Riddle! The women of the world would die of jealousy. Of course, she'd have to keep feeding him Amortentia until he knew that he truly loved her. Her stock of ingredients would last for a few months, but she thought finding more wouldn't be too difficult; especially if she could make a garden in their new home, wherever it was.
She realized that he was looking at her expectantly.
Needing time to think, she said, "Of course Tom. I'd like if you stayed here tonight." It was known that Tom often went on adventures at night. The Muggles wouldn't look for him for a day or two, giving her all the time that she needed to devise her plan. Not to mention, him staying the night with her was definitely something she looked forward to.
Tom looked so beautifully happy, she could cry. His face glowed with excitement.
"It is settled, then!"
His excitement had her blushing into her lap. It took time, but when she finally summoned the courage to look at him, however, his face had crumpled and he was looking away. The sadness radiating off of him was so sudden that it surprised her. She stared at him, confused.
"Is everything alright, Tom?" she asked slowly.
"Merope... I just..." Tom said in a sullen voice. He sighed heavily as gravity claimed her heart. Tom's gaze fell to the ground, not unlike the lemonade had earlier. Something was wrong, she thought alarmed.
Her mind frantically attacked the potion's formula. Had she forgotten the Ashwinder eggs? She had stirred twelve times counter-clockwise, right? Did she whisper the incantation correctly?
But then, why had he kissed her? Why had he called her beautiful?
Tom suddenly looked at her urgently.
"Merope, darling.. I have to confess to you. I think... I think I'm in love with you. I know we just met but I feel as if I've known you my whole life." He grasped her hands from the mug she clung to and held them to his lips, kissing her dirty knuckles lovingly and looking up at her.
"Tom..." she breathed, pulse racing.
"Merope, please say you feel the same. Please tell me that you love me too." he said, fear of rejection creeping into his eyes.
"Oh I do!" she said quickly. Relief flooded his face and he tugged her to him and kissed her deeply. Her heart pounded loudly from her chest.
Or was that the door?