A/N: * Cringes* Sorry about the over due update- I had already typed up my other story's chapters. This chapter is dedicated to tastycakes187 for reviewing five times :) I hope I hear from you again, tastycakes! Sorry I couldn't reply to your PM- my private messaging keeps acting up these days :S. I hope you've got my reply!

To bluephoenixflames: I love your pen name, by the way! Here's the next chapter! :) I love to make new twists and turns- especially unusual ones! Hope you enjoy!

I felt a sudden lurch as I felt my feet leave the ground. The next moment, I was completely consumed by the blue light from the locket. I felt like I was falling, falling into the world of the unknown as I screamed. Oh, Salazar. I was scared. I was really scared. Just then, I felt strong arms lock around my waist.
" You're safe now, Tia. You're safe." Someone reassured me, quietly in my ear. I swallowed. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
" Tom?" I whispered.
" It's me. Don't worry, now." He said.
" How are you here?" I asked.
" This is a figment of my memories. I can land wherever I want and I can also assume a proper form." He explained.
" Could we land now?" I pleaded.
" Of course. Hold on." He replied. My hands flew around his neck. I felt the familiar tug of gravity on my body and we landed on the floor. We seemed to be in a room made completely with stone. The only thing that kept it warm was the fireplace that was currently billowing away. A bunk bed was situated against the wall and a chair was just in front of the fireplace.
There was no window.
" Where are we?" I asked.
" This was our room." Tom replied. " We cannot be seen by my memories. We are like ghosts." He added. I nodded. I felt him leave behind me to trail his hand along the bunk bed. " Oh, I have yearned to have another with me. I wanted someone to pick up my diary and set me and my sister free. But I don't feel the urge, now. Because you are already here." He suddenly turned around.
" Where is Tia Marge Riddle?" I questioned. Tom glided over to me.
" She's here." He placed his hand over my heart. " She's waiting to be set free."
" No, I mean the one from the diary." I corrected myself. Tom suddenly became grim.
" She didn't survive. She gave herself up- her life energy- for me to use you for a horcrux. Of course, it was for different intentions. I never wanted to use you, Tia." He reassured me. Just then, the door slammed open and a pair of hysterical, eleven year old twins bustled through the doorway.
" Did you see Eileen's face?! I want to prank her again! Are you in it, too, Tia?" The boy exclaimed. I looked up at Tom. He was staring at the girl.
" I'll certainly do it again! But don't be too harsh, Tom." The girl agreed. I noticed that the older Tom was mouthing her words. I swallowed again.
He really did love her.
" Fine." The boy rolled his eyes. " Party pooper." He muttered. The girl elbowed him in the side.
" I heard that!" She exclaimed. The older Tom clicked his fingers and a black smoke covered the scene. It encased us. Then, he waved his hand as though to clear it. Like a loosely attached veil, the smoke cleared and we were now in a giant hall. There was four tables and one large table right at the end. It was deserted. The door creaked open and the same, eleven year old Tom walked in, dragging an extremely reluctant Tia.
" Come on! The Yule Ball is in a week! And the awful Slug club! You don't know how to dance- and I could help you there. Tia, don't be silly-"
" No way am I dancing, Tommy!" The other girl argued, her loud voice echoing around the hall.
" We need to make a good impression! Do you want to pass Hogwarts with a good report or not?" He demanded. The girl rolled her eyes.
" Okay, fine. Tell anyone about my wonderful dancing skills and you'll find the consequences... rather alarming." She said as she got up, brushing the dirt off her robes. " And how do you expect me to Ballroom dance in these?" She asked, gesturing at her robes. The younger version of Tom shrugged off his robe.
" Just take the robe off. The school uniform underneath should be fine." He replied. The younger girl did as asked. He flicked his wand at a bundle of instruments in the corner and they started to play a delicate piece of music. The girl rolled her eyes again.
" Seriously? Do you really need to rub it in?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. The younger Tom plastered a small smile on.
" Do you trust me, Tia Marge Riddle? C'mon. It's nothing." He asked, quietly. And before the younger girl could say anything, he pulled her arm and she skidded over to him. She barely suppressed a yelp, I noted.
Brave girl. The younger Tom guided her across the space in front of the four tables. I noticed that the girl kept stumbling in some parts and the amount of times she had stepped on Tom's toes would have been numerous. I didn't spare the sixteen year old next to me a single thought, mesmerized by the younger duo's intricate dancing. It seemed that the younger girl was getting a grasp of how to dance- and soon- she was just as talented as the sibling who was helping her. " You never answered my question. Do you trust me?" The boy asked. Again, before she could answer, he gently span her on the spot and let go. She fell, nearly hitting the ground. She was shocked by this, but her brother grabbed her before she could hit the ground, giving the overall dance a good finish. Breathing heavily, the girl eventually swallowed.
" I trust you." She whispered.

Tom covered the scene with the same, black smoke. I broke the tense silence.
" Could we go further back in time?" I asked.
" We'll go back to when we got our wands. That always seemed significant to you." He suggested. I nodded, mutely. Tom waved his hand, but I could tell from his eyes that I usually gave a comment. We were now in a small shop, gathering dust and obviously old. I watched as the door gently creaked open, the same pair of twins walking through. Only, they looked scared.
Innocent.
Vulnerable.
And so, so fragile.
" Hello?" The boy called. The girl next to him sought comfort, gripping his hand tightly. Just then, an old man appeared in front of them- silvery eyes, grey hair and a witty demeaner surrounding him.
" Ah, hello! Hogwarts, I presume?" The man asked, rubbing his hands together. The twins nodded, nervously. I noted their clothing. The girl wore a patched up dress and her wavy hair seemed greasy and matted. There was dark circles under her abnormal, almost inhumanely bright eyes, glittering onward like a pair of polished jade stones. Her bony figure made the neglect and abuse obvious. I dimly wondered how they came to look so well groomed in the future memories. The boy, however, was a different story. His own black locks were tamed to well cropped hair, his wavy fringe immaculate. His eyes were identical to hers, but I could tell he was socially isolated by the nervousness and tension when the man moved closer to the twins. The boy was protective of the girl.
Touching.
He growled, softly and quietly when the man came too close to the girl. The man eyed the boy with a critical eye.
" Abused, I guess?" He asked, quietly. The boy stared at the man, wide eyed. The girl was silent.
" Yes." The boy replied.
" Does the girl not speak?" The man pressed.
" Yes, she does. And I'd prefer it if you did not insult my twin sister, if you please." The boy deadpanned, coldly. The man raised an eyebrow.
" Of course." The man replied. " My name is Ollivander. Mr. Ollivander." He added. The boy gave the man a cryptic look.
" That much I have gathered." He replied, rudely. Ollivander looked taken aback, but the boy simply smirked. The girl softly touched his arm.
" Tom, don't." She whispered. The boy relaxed.
" Sorry. Sorry." He replied, quietly to the younger girl. He gave her a slight squeeze to her hand. The man loudly clapped his hands, causing the girl to flinch.
" Right! Let's try holly, 15 inches and a dragon heartstring core." He busied himself in the draws, pulling out multiple wands and eventually bringing out a wooden box. He set it on the desk. He looked up at the younger Tom. " You first." The Tom at my side shuffled closer and grasped my hand, just like the twins in front. I was taken aback, but I squeezed his hand, choosing not to comment. The younger boy held the wand, but nothing happened. It happened like that. Every single wand would either cause antics in the store or do nothing. Albeit getting off on the wrong foot, Ollivander was slowly becoming more and more excited. " How about this one!" He exclaimed, brandishing a box. " Yew, Phoenix feather, 13 and a half inches!" He passed the box to Tom, who pulled off the lid and held the wand. It caused an eerie, green light to appear from the tip. Ollivander looked perplexed. " Indeed, you are it's master. However, this spell has never been seen before... Now, onto your sister. What's her name?"
" Tia Marge Riddle." Tom said. The man busied himself yet again in the wands. He ploughed through all of them, pulling out some and pushing some back in their places. He eventually pulled one out- it seemed to be falling apart, the edges of the box frayed and the wood stained with age. However, like all the boxes, it seemed to have been created with an artistic hand. The man set the box before the expectant but nervous girl in front of him.
" I had a feeling since you and your brother walked through that door. Both of you are bound to extremely high potentials. His core is one of the most rarest and powerful there is. Only it's twin and the elder wand could rival it. This wand is made from the bark of the Hyophorbe amaricaulis palm. It's core is one of a dragon heartstring and it is 13 and a half inches. Both your wand and your brother's wand have the same characteristics. Their power is the same, yet unique in a way that can only be seen by you and your brother. They are as identical as twins and yet are as different as light and dark." He pressed the wand to her hand. " Use it well." He added. I watched as the girl held the wand and a strong, white glow came from the tip. A flower grew and unfurled from the tip- and I noticed it was a lotus flower.
The symbol of peace.
Light.
Purity.
Innocence.
And the ability of a sheer beauty to grow within the murkiest waters.

Once again, Tom and I were left, encased within the black smoke. We had gone front- to- back from nearly all the most significant memories he had.
" Tia, I have one last memory. One last memory that was seared into your mind forever." Tom told me, seriously. I rubbed the tiredness from my eyes and looked up.
" Um, okay." I replied, dumbly. Despite the tense atmosphere, Tom laughed. I cracked a small smile and, before I could properly process and register what I was doing, my arms flew around his sides. He stiffened into the embrace, but he soon melted into it, placing his arms around my neck and shoulders before he planted a kiss on my head.
Why did it feel so bittersweet?
" Tia, I have to be serious. This one is not an easy- come, easy- go. It is a little disturbing." Tom warned. I rolled my eyes.
" This could be the one that could unlock my memories, Tom. I want to try." I answered. He smiled, gently as he stroked my hair, fondly and then waved his hand, as usual. The black smoke cleared and the scene before us looked perfectly innocent. The twins appeared to be fifteen or sixteen, pouring over the books with a studiousness that only Rowena Ravenclaw herself could rival. Then, the girl looked up, apparently having finished her book. I noticed the title.
" How to become an Animagus: Pupil Book One." I read out, perplexed. What was an Animagus?
" You always were interested in becoming one..." Tom recalled, fondly. He shook his head and continued watching the perfectly innocent scene. The emerald- eyed girl got up and slid the book into one of the shelves. The boy sighed and curled up on the armchair, propping the book up higher. I read the title. ' The Dark Arts and How to Use it' was scrawled in an elegant but somehow messy script across the head of the book. The boy gave a content sigh.
" Tia?" He asked. His voice seemed a little wobbly, as though on the verge of uncertainty. The girl paused.
" Yes, Tommy?" She asked.
" Um... Sit here." The boy added. The girl complied, confused.
" Okaay." She drew out the last syllable. An awkward silence filled the next moments. The twins kept fidgeting and avoiding each other's gaze. Finally, the girl sighed and rolled her eyes. " Just tell me, Tom!" She demanded. The other boy gave a nervous chuckle.
" I know what I want to become. But what do you want to do in future?" He asked. The girl raised an eyebrow.
" Elaborate." She replied. The boy rolled his eyes.
" I mean, what job are you aspiring to get? Do you want to marry? Start a life?" He asked. The girl had a thoughtful look on her face.
" Now, come to think of it..." She trailed off, a small smile playing at her lips and her eyes slightly glazed over. " I think... I would like to graduate... and if I don't become a Dark Lady, I'd like to be a healer."
" The complete opposite to a Dark Lady." Tom stated. The girl had a wry smile on her face.
" I don't know. I like helping other people. I'd give anything to see a smile on someone's face if it were caused by me." The girl replied. " Then, I think I might think about settling down."
" Would you like to have... children?" He asked. The girl nodded.
" I'd raise them to the best of my abilities, regardless of their gender, age or whether they turn out to be magical or a squib. I'll love them with all my heart." She replied. Tom nodded, slowly, digesting this information.
" What would you call them?" He asked, tenderly. The girl sighed, her chin on her hands.
" Tom-Marve, for a boy." She shot a smile at her brother, who was already feeling remarkably honoured. " And Harriet-Rose for a girl."
" Why Harriet-Rose?" He asked, curiously. The girl's smile spread a little further.
" A Rose by another name would not smell as sweet, no?" She quoted. Her brother had a sad smile on his lips. " Harriet... Well, it's ironic. The name typically means Ruler of the estate. It's a mixture of German and French. Fitting, especially for the future niece of a Dark Lord, right?" Both Toms had a smile on their faces.
" That, dear sister, would be an honour. And Harriet sounds like a perfect name for a girl." He complimented. I lifted an eyebrow.
" This is not, by any means, disturbing. Why did you try and prevent me from seeing this memory, Tom?" I asked. The sixteen year old youth next to me bit his lip.
" Keep watching." He whispered.
" How about you? Would you like to have children? Would you mind whether you had a male or female? Would you still give him, her or them your undivided love, care and attention- whether they were magical or a squib?" I asked. The boy bit his lip.
" An interesting question. First off, I would like children- someday- and I would prefer to have a male." I sighed and rolled my eyes.
Of course.
To continue the family name. " However, a daughter would be... satisfactory." I bit back a growl.
Was he really that sexist? " And I would also prefer it if they were magical. Squibs are just as below us as muggleborns." He spat. Both my and the girl's heads shot up.
" What?" We demanded. Well, he couldn't hear me. Regardless, I felt the urge to show my emotions.
" I would, personally, blast any squib off our family name. They are unworthy-"
" They would be able to speak Parseltongue! They would share half of your flesh and blood, Tom! Whether they show magic or not does not matter to me- it's the love that binds families together!" The girl explained, passionately. " If I were a squib, would you still love me?" The boy remained silent. The girl's eyes filled with tears. " Answer me! And I want Tom to, not Voldemort!" She demanded. The boy looked up, his emerald eyes also filled with tears.
" Do you want the truth? Do you?" He asked. The girl became frantic.
" Hell, Tom! I do want to know the truth!" She screeched.
" I wouldn't. I would have left you since the day I realized what magic was. I'd have deserted you. The only times I'd come to you would be to use a new curse or against my will. I'd have hated you. But that's not the point! You are magical-"
" Magic isn't what's important to me, Tom. You are." The girl interrupted. The boy bit his lip so harshly that blood started to leak. His eyes narrowed as he tried desperately to keep the tears in. He shoved the book in his twin's hands and ran out of the room. I looked down at the book in the girl's hands. I noticed that Tom had given it to her with his page left open. I read the script.
" Blood children were used in ancient ceremonies to give an answer to the most extremist purebloods. A good example is the Malfoy family. Blood children are made from a single drop from a pair of opposite- gender siblings. Then, an ancient incantation in a language of their choice is recited over their most prized family heirloom ( It must be something to drink from- ie: a goblet) that holds the blood previously offered for the ceremony. Then, the female of the pair drinks the blood and... is impregnated?" I read all of this aloud, a tinge bit disgusted. Scratch that, this entire thing was wrong! Ew! Tom wanted to have blood children!
" That isn't it. There's more." Tom muttered, quietly.
" The ritual provides a boost for talents- most likely the Dark Arts- within the children. Also, it gives them the same features as their parents. This is why many old pureblood families have similar traits. Examples are: The Malfoys. They practised this ritual so many times that their children- no matter how their partner may look like- will always have grey eyes, fair hair and pale skin. Another example is... the Potters?!" I yelled, shocked. How did Harry come to have green eyes, then? " For many centuries before the Potters turned back to the light, their ancestors had an obsession with blood purity. Their traits are: Windswept/ messy black hair, a defined jawline and a slight problem with their vision. However, the Potters hadn't used this ritual for enough generations for some features to become permanent after theirs- whether they perform the ritual or not. For example, whilst Charlus Potter was known to have brown eyes, his father had hazel..." I trailed off, stunned. " So, there's a leeway for this ritual if you don't do it for enough generations. If you do, then the features become a trait for the rest of your family tree, whether your consort or partner looks completely unlike a Malfoy or not. This is beginning to scare me." I shuddered. I stared harder at the text. " This blood ritual, however, was outlawed in the eighteenth century due to a few faults appearing within the families that practised it for more than ten generations. They usually become more aggressive and their children often inherit the worst parts of their parent's personalities- Right. I'm off. This has sent my brain whirling. And, anyways, I wonder how Brian Weasley is getting along-" I slammed my hand to my mouth. Why hadn't I felt the memories returning? Oh, Salazar. I remember everything about my life, here, with Tom! Why hadn't it all come rushing back? Why did it just trickle through like a leaky bucket?
" Brian Weasley? The blood traitor family?" Tom asked. I blinked, astonished.
" I-I-"
" Hey, take it easy, there." Tom soothed.
" Tom?" I asked, weakly. He looked down at me, eyes searching and alight with hope.
" Yes?" He asked.
" I remember." I replied, tears running down my cheeks. Myrtle, Violeta and the first year girl went flashing before my eyes. I felt my knees buckle and then strong arms holding me up. " Oh my god. I'm a murderer." I whispered. Just then, I felt myself getting hysterical. They couldn't be dead! " This- this is insane!" I wriggled out of Tom's grasp, shocked by how I just dismissed Myrtle's death as a simple pang of guilt.
I needed to die.
Now.
" Tia-"
" NO. First the blood children and now this?! I- I've murdered! I enjoyed it! I was basically the Queen of Death! I- I had horcruxes! My eyes... The diary!" I felt my sanity losing it's grip.
Myrtle. Can't. Be. Dead.
" Listen-"
" Did you ask me? Did it even occur to you that I may have wanted a normal life? Did you know that I wanted to get married, have children and pass away with no blood on my hands?" I demanded, my voice rising higher and higher as I began to accuse Tom of more and more things. " Did it even occur to you that you were harassing me? That you forced me into doing things I never wanted to?" My voice wobbled and broke on my last sentence.
Tom was no longer my salvation.
Rather, he was my death. " Did it even occur to you... That you were one of my abusers?" He froze, staring straight at me. I swallowed. " I was scared of you, Tom. All I could see was Voldemort, whenever I looked at you. The innocent brother who I loved was no longer there. Who else have you murdered in cold blood? Who have you murdered to use this diary?" I asked. " Don't you think I at least deserve this much? To know who was after Myrtle?" Tom inclined his head in sadness and guilt.
" I never meant to harm you, Tia-"
" Answer me. Please." I whimpered. Tom looked up, his eyes laden with pain, guilt and sadness.
" I killed our father."

A/N: What do you think? Just tell me in a review- I promise I'll write back in the next chapter! :)