Hi, guys. I've been avoiding studying and all that, so I wrote this. This pairing is so dark, so twisted, so unhealthy, I had to write about it.
There were many things in life that a person couldn't prevent. A person couldn't prevent hunger, or thirst, or fatigue. A person couldn't prevent love.
She loved him.
Oh, she knew it was unhealthy. She didn't care.
Loving him had been the first choice she had ever made on her own. All she had ever done was run around after her father, after her brother. Obey them, listen to them when they told her about how inferior Muggles were.
Not him. Not her Tom.
Deep within her heart, she knew he had never loved her. He would never have married her if she hadn't offered him a glass of water as he had come riding towards his home.
Her hands had been shaking, her eyes fixed adoringly on his handsome face. He had accepted the glass, not even looking at her.
Since he had first tasted the love potion, he had rarely left her side. His large, dark eyes had never lost the adoration for her. No one had ever looked at her like that before him.
She loved him. He loved her. The difference was that her love was true. He had been enchanted. She had enchanted him, bewitched him to love her, convinced him that she was his world, just as he was hers.
Her heart was his. He had had it from the moment she had first laid eyes upon him. When she had first heard her speak to her, to Cecilia...
Their were few things that she had to call her own. The heavy, gold locket of her ancestor, Salazar Slytherin that hung around her neck. The baby still within her womb. And him. She was his, he hers.
How could he not love her, now, after all this time? Surely, by now, he would have fallen in love with her in return. Surely she didn't have to force herself to continue to give him the love potion. Surely she didn't have to keep him bewitched to love her.
And with that thought, Merope Gaunt uncorked the vial and allowed the thin, shiny liquid that smelled so strongly of his cologne to spill to the ground.