Nine

The next two months were the best in Tom and Rosaline's relationship to date. Anger rarely flared up between them; Tom did not embark on any more trips which would keep him away from the manor and Rosaline was no longer bored. Tom's "followers" would visit frequently, with Avery notably absent. Some of them Rosaline knew, some she'd never before seen, but it never failed for making life more interesting.

Of course, whenever guests would arrive, Tom would usher them into his study for mysterious meetings. These meetings were a source of curiosity for Rosaline, but she knew better than to inquire about their nature. After the meeting had been adjourned, the guests and Tom and Rosaline would gather for drinks and such, which was always amusing. Rosaline, however, never touched alcohol as a rule; she'd seen what it did to people and their judgment many times throughout her childhood and preferred to keep her mind under her own control and watch as others succumbed to the effects of the drug.

Tom and Rosaline had also never been more in sync in the bedroom. Their sexual habits were mutually pleasurable, if not nearly insatiable, and their passion almost matched that of their first year of marriage. Although Tom never again allowed Rosaline as much control as he had that night two months earlier after his forceful attack in the bathtub, both parties were left most satisfied after a given night's (or morning's or afternoon's, for that matter) activities.

One particular morning, however, Rosaline woke feeling sick to her stomach. She rolled over, away from Tom, who was still asleep, and made her way to the bathroom, where she vomited. When she was through, she sat on the floor next to the toilet, confused. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been as sick as she was. She never drank, so that couldn't have caused it. She decided, although still uneasy, that it must have been something she'd eaten the night before and, after washing out her mouth, went back to bed.

"What's the matter?" asked Tom sharply, causing Rosaline to start, as she'd thought him still asleep.

"Nothing, nothing, I was just feeling a bit…out of sorts," she answered wearily.

"Shall I call for a potion?"

"No, no, I'll just go back to sleep…" she said, as she was feeling quite drained.

"Well, if you're sure," he said nonchalantly. "I've got work to do today, at the shop, and then Nott and Mulciber will stop by later tonight."

Rosaline simply grunted in response. She was beginning to feel the need to be sick again. As soon as Tom was gone from the room, she rushed again to the bathroom.

---

After several more trips to the bathroom, Rosaline felt better, but still weary. After rinsing her mouth once more, she looked up to stare into the mirror above her sink. She had expected herself to look pale and peaky, but instead she saw a brightness in her features she had never seen before. She shook her head, perplexed, and went back to the bed to lie down.

As she looked up at the ceiling, her mind wandered. She thought about her relationship with Tom as of late, and how much better it had been. The past eight weeks had been the best she'd had in a long while…

Suddenly, she sat bolt upright. Eight weeks… she thought. It can't be…not possibly…but not since that night…could it be?

She grabbed her wand from the bedside table and pointed it at her abdomen, muttering an incantation. A second later, pink sparks flew out of her wand as she held it in front of her and she felt the blood drain from her face. She had never even come close to entertaining the notion of having a child, and knew that the chances of her being an adequate mother were quite slim. And what would Tom think? She knew that what he might do or say was completely unpredictable, which frightened her slightly.

Another thought suddenly grabbed hold of her, as if to choke her. Avery, she thought, remembering their encounter more vividly than she would have liked. She again pointed her wand at her abdomen, spoke another incantation, and waited. After a moment, the wand emitted smoky letters: first an "R," a "C" and another "R," her own initials. Then, another moment later, the wand emitted a "T," and "M," and an "R." Rosaline felt dizzy with relief, for if she'd been carrying Avery's baby, she imagined the consequences would be quite dire.

Laying back in the bed once more and placing a hand on her abdomen, Rosaline tried to calm herself, but failed. She couldn't help but wonder the sex of the baby, but she knew it was much too early to tell. Even with the looming, unknown reaction of her husband to face, Rosaline experienced a feeling unlike any she'd ever had, one she couldn't quite place, but didn't dislike.

After she'd gotten out of bed, she didn't quite feel up to eating, and so she dismissed the house elf's request to cook her something for breakfast. She drank some tea, which revived her a bit, but was still restless.

Later in the day, Rosaline went back up to the bedroom and sat in a chair by the window. The sky was a light shade of gray and it looked as if it would open up and pour at any moment. Suddenly, without warning, Rosaline began to cry. She carried on for what seemed like hours, her body shuddering with the force of her sobs.

The sky was beginning to darken when she heard a door somewhere in the house slam. Her heart raced as she heard several voices. Tom had brought Nott and Mulciber home with him. The voices died down as the men moved towards what she was sure was Tom's study.

Rosaline hastily wiped the tears away from her eyes as she thought about what to do. At first she decided not to tell Tom until his guests had left, but she could not contain her nerves any longer and decided to go to the study and interrupt the meeting.

She ran down the stairs and down the hallway and, without bothering to knock, threw open the heavy oak door of the study. Tom was sitting at his desk facing the door and Nott and Mulciber were sitting opposite him in two leather chairs. Their heads whipped around at the sudden sound of the door being opened and as soon as they saw it was Rosaline, they stood up from their chairs and bowed their heads, muttering, "Mrs. Riddle." Rosaline ignored them and looked at her husband.

Tom stood up slowly behind him, cold fury set in his face. He'd thought that Rosaline knew better than to interfere with his meetings, the contents of which were extremely secret. The fact that she'd come bursting in as she had was very agitating.

"I need a word," she said shortly to him.

"As you can see, Rosaline, I am busy at the moment," he said darkly in a slow, threatening voice. "Whatever you have to say, which had better be of the utmost importance, can wait—"

"It is of the utmost importance, and it absolutely cannot wait. I need to speak to you now," she said quickly, keeping her eyes locked on his.

They stared at each other for a few moments, and then Tom said, "Excuse me," to Nott and Mulciber and walked quickly to where Rosaline stood in the doorway. He grabbed her arm, glaring at her, and dragged her outside the room, slamming the door behind them.

"What is it, Rosaline?" he said, gritting his teeth dangerously.

Rosaline opened her mouth to speak, but found her voice was lost.

"As you could see, I am very busy, so if you could please refrain from dawdling any longer—"

"I…I'm going to have a baby," she blurted out in a small voice.

"What?" Tom said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

"A baby…I'm—"

"I heard you," he spat. His expression was unreadable. "You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes, I checked."

"And it's…mine?"

"Of course," she answered quickly, her stomach dropping at the thought of Avery. Tom surveyed her shrewdly, as if to see whether she was lying, his expression still unreadable and stony.

"Well then," he said shortly and tonelessly. "This is good news. You'd better go upstairs and rest; I must finish my business here."

"Oh…alright," she said slowly and turned to leave.

Tom watched her as she walked down the hall, then turned and reentered his study to continue the meeting.

Rosaline tossed and turned in her bed for hours, her mind too full for sleep. She'd heard Nott and Mulciber leave a while earlier, but Tom had not yet come to bed. His reaction had not been horrible, but he was probably still enraged that she had interrupted his meeting. It was unlike him, though, not to punish her in one way or another when she upset him. Again growing restless with her own thoughts, she decided to go back down to Tom's study.

---

Tom fervently paced back and forth across the room. He knew Rosaline had not been lying: she was going to have a baby, his baby, without a question. Of course, this was the last thing that Tom had wanted to happen, and he wasn't used to things not going his way. It would interfere with his plans more than he could bear to think about. Worst of all, it was his fault and he knew it. He had second-guessed himself in school about whether marrying Rosaline was a sound decision, but he couldn't resist her. Now, his plans, his life's ambitions, were in jeopardy because of a bad decision he hade made as a seventeen-year-old.

The only positive aspect of the situation was that there would be someone to carry on the ancient Slytherin bloodline of which he was so proud. He had just sat down at his desk and begun to entertain this possibility when he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Rosaline opened the door slowly and stepped into the room. It was richly decorated; there were dark wooden shelves housing hundreds of books and the hardwood floor was covered in an ornately woven rug. Tom watched her closely as she walked over to a leather chair facing him and sat down.

"I couldn't sleep," she said.

"I can see that," he answered, perhaps a bit too coldly.

"You're unhappy," she sighed.

"Well, what you told me today was quite unexpected," he said slowly. "It will be an enormous hindrance in the way of my plans, you understand, of course."

"Yes, I do, but these plans! It's all I hear about!" she said irritably.

Tom leaned back in his chair and placed his hands together in front of his mouth. He stared at her and did not speak for some time. Finally, he made his decision.

He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment with a sketch on it and handed it to Rosaline over the desk.

Rosaline took the parchment, perplexed. On it was a drawing of a skull with a serpent emerging from its mouth. "What is this?" she asked.

"This," Tom replied, taking the parchment back from her and tapping the sketch with his wand, making the serpent slither around the skull, and handing it back to her, "is a symbol that every witch, wizard, and Muggle will come to fear in years to come. It is the symbol that will bind myself and those who follow me loyally together. You noticed that Nott and Mulciber were here earlier? Well they and every other visitor who has been here in that past few months will soon be given the choice to take this mark, have it branded into their skin permanently, as a sign of loyalty to me. When I touch the mark, it will burn on their skin, telling them that I have need of them and that they must immediately report to my side from wherever they are."

Rosaline nodded slowly, unable to take her eyes away from the serpent in the picture. It was writhing so realistically that she almost thought it a real snake. It's movements mesmerized her and she went into something of a trance for a few moments, until she noticed Tom's intense, black eyes upon her. She wrenched her gaze off of the snake and looked up at him.

"So, in a sense, you're gathering an army?"

Tom smirked. "In a sense." He gently took the parchment back from her and placed in its drawer.

"Will you ever force me to bear it?" she asked quietly.

He surveyed her with a stony expression. "No," he replied. "That ring you wear is enough of a brand of loyalty; I don't believe it would be necessary for you to bear the mark. Besides, if I need you, you're right here. There's no reason to summon you."

The conversation had made Rosaline a bit uneasy. For some reason, she thought back to when Tom had first cornered her in that corridor at Hogwarts in her fifth year. Something he'd said that night had stayed with her: "There is nothing that I can't have."

How true, she thought as she stared at his still-very handsome face. How very true.

---

On a day some five months later, Tom left for his first trip since that eventful night of the bathtub incident.

"I shall be back two weeks from today," he'd told Rosaline before kissing her on the forehead.

"Good luck," she's said half-heartedly, although for what she was wishing him luck, she did not yet know.

Her pregnancy had begun to show considerably over the past few months as her stomach grew rounder, but the rest of her body had remained remarkably as thin as it had been before she'd gotten pregnant.

She was sitting in her chair in the bedroom several hours later, reading a book from Tom's study, when she heard a knock at the door. She heard the house elf open the door and faintly heard an oddly familiar voice. She walked slowly down the stairs to the foyer, but froze in shock before she reached the last step.

The man standing in the foyer was the last person she'd ever expected to see cross the threshold of the Riddle manor.