Disclaimer – I don't own HP and any of its characters.
The midwife confined Merope to the bed for another week, with Jake and Joan firmly enforcing her confinement. Merope insisted on keeping Tom with her, on holding him, brushing him, feeding him and all the other things associated with having a baby. Jake saw that she loved the child, her brown eyes sparkling when she saw the boy. Her usually plain face lit up when she saw her child, and that aura of sadness that surrounded her subsided.
But that was not to say she was not sad. Though she loved the child dearly, more than life itself, his hair and his eyes and most of his outer appearance looked so much like the man he was named after. She had never thought that it was possible for something to make her so glad yet make her heart ache at the same time. Another frightening thing that Merope had noticed since the birth of Tom was that she was beginning to feel that she needed to record what was happening. She did not want to forget about this experience, about her love for Tom. Merope was afraid. She was afraid that the happiness that she was feeling would disappear, like much of the other brief spells of joy that she had never went through.
She had heard about these things that the Muggles kept. Diaries, they were called. They wrote in a book about all that was happening, what they were feeling, and they would look back on it and remember all of it. It was a useful way to remember things they didn't want to forget. Merope had dearly wanted to keep a diary too, to help her remember, but… she knew not how to write.
Her father had not thought it useful, or even if he had, he would not have wanted to teach it to his useless Squib of a daughter. Her father had been a cruel man, and her brother no different, but she loved them. She hoped to bring Tom to see his grandfather and uncle someday, but she knew they would be furious. It hurt her to think that Tom would never know them.
"Merope?" The warm voice of Jake interrupted her from her thoughts.
She looked up and smiled shyly. "Y-Yes?"
"Are you feeling better now?" He asked, taking a seat next to her bed.
She nodded slowly. "Y-Yes, lots better. I-I will be able to leave soon."
"Leave?"
The corners of her mouth twitched. "Y-Yes, Tom and I-I will be l-leaving. T-That was the agreement, n-no?"
"Yes, it was… But…" Jake hesitated.
Merope gave a small smile. "I-I won't intrude for m-m-much longer."
Jake sighed. "The house will be a lot emptier without you."
Merope laughed timidly. "E-E-Everything would be m-much more c-convenient with me g-gone."
"Do you even have anywhere to go after leaving here?"
Merope hesitated. "U-U-Uh… Y-Yes."
Jake laughed again. "You're a horrible liar, Merope." He turned serious again. "Tom is still a young infant, and a child like him needs a home."
Merope hesitated and bit her lip.
"How about you help Joan out around the house and you will be paid with housing, food and the like?" Jake suggested.
Merope thought. Jake saw that she was still unsure.
"Joan is getting on in the years, you know this as well as I." Jake said, and saw Merope give a tiny nod.
"She needs someone to help her, and I think you would be perfect for the job."
Merope just needed one tiny push to get caught in the trap.
"Please? As a favour to me."
Merope sighed to herself in exasperation. He used this plea all the time. Jake smiled to himself. Merope had to agree now.
"Fine."
Jake smiled, his eyes glinting in merriment.
So it was in that way that Merope Gaunt, descendent of Salazar Slytherin, came into the service of the people that her ancestors had despised.