What Do You Want?

by mrs.kapranos

Tom Marvolo Riddle never loved…or so they say. What if he did love, but couldn't understand it and so destroyed it? A choice between his ultimate desire of world domination and the one thing he's always been denied: love. The story spans between his school years until his rise in power. You already know the end, but do you know the beginning? *New chapters during 1950-1952*

37. November 27, 1951

Albania

(1947 - 1957)

November 27, 1951

I sat in a high-backed, leather armchair next to the warm fireplace facing Adamaris and Jessenia, the wives of Lord Tympanios. We were having a casual morning tea with assorted snacks. The tea setting was wholly on my account as the rest of the company had no need for food and drink. Therefore the edibles provided were a mix-match of combinations I'd never seen at a proper English tea. There were roasted meats, a sliced white fruit I'd never seen before, leaves of washed baby lettuce, and extremely hard crackers. I ended up sucking on my ill-chosen cracker for a few minutes before I could properly chew it.

Soon after Tom and I arrived at the castle, the women and I were escorted to Jessenia's boudoir, her sitting room adjacent to her bedchamber. It was cozy space; perfect for entertaining the three of us in the chill of growing winter. I tried complementing the decor in Spanish to practice what I had studied, and Jessenia politely nodded, remarking in English that everything had come from Valencia, her home town.

Adamaris followed up Jessenia to give her opinion. "I love this room, out of all the rooms we have in the castle. The Spanish art is so rich and full of depth. I particularly am fond of this rug," she pointed to a carpet hanging on the wall. "The patterns are mesmerizing, and so unlike what I grew up with. I think of the patterns of the universe, flowing and spiraling yet never-ending."

I didn't know what to say back as I was no art connoisseur. The rug was indeed colorful, with white, blue, red, pink, green colors weaved into a ribbon pattern. "It's a lovely rug indeed," I decided upon. Jessenia only smirked at us.

Men's raised voices and stomping on the floorboards startled me, and I gave Adamaris a surprised look. Adamaris stared into the corner of the room as she listened further while Jessenia put her focus on me. "They never get along, do they," she asked in her smooth, deep voice.

A hand rapped on the door, and a muffled voice asked, "Eva?" Another voice behind the door spoke, but I already stood to go to the door. Tom, Arnold, and Petar were standing in the hallway. Tom's face silently told me he was ready to leave. Arnold had a smug look while Petar seemed exasperated.

Since last winter, we were invited to Lord Tympanios's castle four times, including this morning. Every time was the same: the men separated from the women, the men argued for a few hours, and then Tom would find me when he had enough.

I never had to ask what the problem was. As soon as we would arrive at the shack, I got an earful of it from Tom. As it was explained to me, the vampires were doing too good a job at making more vampires. The little village Tympanios lorded over was far too small, and the surging vampire soldiers almost ate the entire population. Only a local vampire hunter was able to come to town in time to save a few of the remaining villagers. This happened in the fall of 1950, during Tom's longest sulk.

Since then, the vampires have continued to grow and so have the amount of people claiming to be vampire hunters. I laughed when Tom first explained, but he chided me for underestimating the hunters. Most were garbage, he agreed, but with such a large and unusual surge of vampires, the professionals were enticed. Vampire hunters had the unique ability to capture vampire parts after they were killed, Tom explained to me. If he or I were to behead or remove the heart of a vampire, the body would burst to flame and deteriorate. But a vampire hunter destroys the cursed soul of the vampire, leaving it's remains intact and available to process for black alley markets. Therefore, if you were well trained it was a lucrative job.

Petar and Arnold could not agree on any solution as they both held completely opposite perspectives. Arnold wanted more vampires created to overwhelm any opposition - he believed there had to be a limit to the amount of vampire hunters to arrive. Petar strongly advised to halt all creation of vampires and even to destroy excess ones causing a burden on the food supply. They roped Tom into the discussion to pick a side, but it had only made things worse.

Tom sided with neither of them. As long as there were vampires, there would be those that hunted them, Tom declared. Yet Tom wanted an army, as large as Tympanios could provide. If they ceased production and dismantle what army they currently have, everything Tom had worked towards would be caving in on itself. Tom felt the best course of action was to limit vampire creation and to begin starting small bases around eastern Europe.

Arnold hated the idea of not being able to intimately supervise his clan, and so he wouldn't side with Tom. And in a circle they would go, insulting each other's intelligence and pride at every go around. Tom would always break first, unable to waste any further time on old men unwilling to listen to reason. The vampires would never be sad to see him go. Yet months later, when stronger and better prepared hunters came to destroy the newly created vampires and do their best to claim the castle as well, Arnold and Peter would fight over what course of action to take. Tom would be called again, hoping this time he would be a proper tie breaker.

Today, he failed again. After he spewed all his frustrations out, he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Eva... start lunch please. I want to eat and then make a horcrux this afternoon. The day is already broken, I might as well rip a few more things apart."

I was heading towards the kitchen when I heard his last words. I shot him a serious look and said, "Is that a joke? You talk about something very serious." I paused, wanting to say more about the serious subject but found my tongue unable to form the words. I sighed, "I just don't understand how you take it so lightly."

"I don't take it lightly. It's my soul being torn into bits."

I stayed quiet as I prepared the food. I suppose he was right; if anyone was allowed to joke about such a thing, it would be him.

After a light lunch, we decided that the clearing behind the shack would be adequate space for the horcrux spell. As Tom rummaged inside of his private cabin for the vessel, I remarked that it had been eight years since he performed the spell in the Chamber of Secrets.

"It's been that long?" I heard his stifled voice ask from inside.

I rocked back and forth on my heels as I stood outside to watch the remaining leaves from the trees twist into the wind and rain upon the ground and sea. "Yes, it has."

I couldn't help but to recall our time hidden away in Salazar Slytherin's secret hideout. I remembered it like it was only a year to two ago, not almost a decade. I turned fifteen years old that day. I was so proud to be with Tom Riddle and sneak away with him during the Halloween Feast to help him perform a forbidden curse. I didn't know what awaited me, but after it was over I could never forget.

"What are you smiling about?" Tom asked with a puzzled frown as he exited the shack. In his hands was a rectangle shaped box smaller than a shoebox and a thick book with a black cover.

"I was just remembering our first time - performing this spell that is." He gave me another puzzled look while an edge of his lips curled up. I chuckled nervously and turned the conversation. "This will be the second time you make a -" I stopped, unable to continue speaking.

"This will be your second time, not mine. Remember, I have two: my diary and the ring. I had to perform the spell for the ring myself, but the result was the same as before. I found that creating horcruxes so close together was careless. It weakened me more than I expected." He reached his final spot and turned to look at me. "I've decided it's been long enough, and today is the day."

Imagining Tom weakened sounded like an oxymoron. He certainly wasn't weakened when he performed the spell in the Chamber. Would the same effect engulf him like last time? If so, I would be more than happy to help him through any side effects.

I stood back, close to Toms small shack, while he stood in he the middle of the field in the burned and barren location where we usually set up our cauldron. A cold chill ran through the area, and I wrapped myself tighter in my winter robes. The golden cup glowed under the muted autumn sun in Tom's hand. In his other hand, Tom held his wand together with the black book open to the necessary page. I wondered if he had stolen the tome from Hogwarts or he found another copy. I doubted that even Tom possessed enough charisma and magic to steal books from the Hogwarts library.

Tom cleared his throat and spoke the incantation loud and clear. "Quisnam votum vita vos effrego. Quisnam volo veres vos cado primoris. Specialis vita es per nex, quod per vestri animus via exsisto incidere." Nothing occurred, but this pause happened last time as well. Tom stared into my eyes with a look of fortitude. He mentally prepared himself for what was coming.

The next instant a shining, green light blinded my vision, and I shut my eyes. At the same time, a rush of air flooded out from where Tom had been. Last time, I was unprepared and fell onto the cold, hard floor. Due to our dueling practice, I knew to plant my feet at all times. My shirt, skirt, and winter robes ruffled in the strong breeze, but I remained in position. The light diminished slightly as the wind died down, and I opened my eyes to watch Tom.

My first time, I was too overwhelmed by the effects of the spell to properly see what engulfed Tom, but now was my second chance. The bright green light surrounded him like an egg but there was more than light. There was magic enveloping him, sparking and zipping around the containment. A loud scream pierced my ears, and a shiver ran down my back. My breath increased, and I felt my heart speed up. This happened last time too, I told myself. I tried to calm down, but my body continued to increase my anxiety.

The scream continued to yell out, remaining the same pitch and strength, as the green light melted into red. Now the magical containment around Tom's body was like a red ruby. I remembered this color-change too. Calmed by the familiarity of the process, my breathing eased. But then the scream stopped, abruptly. This didn't happen last time.

A new scream replaced it, but it was even worse than before. It was a shrill screech, rising and falling like someone was being tortured. The magic that surrounded Tom began to blink with a black light that darkened my vision every few seconds. My lungs felt unable to breath as my stomach churned and twisted. My heart pumped forcefully like a speeding train in my ear while my palms sweated as I clenched the fabric of my robes and my wand. The piercing sound of desperate, painful human cries left me shaking. This was absolutely wrong - something had gone terribly wrong.

The awful, familiar feeling of Dark Magic seeped into my body, and this time I couldn't hold my nausea in. After all the food I had from today was in a disgusting lump on the ground, I swallowed the acidic fear left in my mouth. I had to rescue Tom, if it was even possible. After Adelbert Heinrich's book almost swallowed us whole last year, I learned, through Tom's help, a spell to protect myself from the strong effects of Black Magic. Quickly, I said the spell and tapped the wand to my head. Instantly, I felt much better and more confident.

My breath quickened, and I ran to where I last saw Tom. The red light began flashing less as the pitch black grew. The strobing of black and red gave me a small ache in my temples. The uneven screams continued, almost more desperate and louder than before, and my bones chilled. It was the sounds of torment.

I was only halfway to him when the red light turned to black a final time, and the area was enveloped in a dark grey fog. Visability was low, and the smell of smoke filled my nose. I never stopped in my approach. I yelled out, "Lumos!" over the sound of the screams that became louder and more defined the closer I got to Tom. Everything was so awful. I wanted to cry; the tears were ready and waiting in my eyes. Yet I had no time to waste.

Finally, I found him, lying on the ground, clutching his chest as if to keep his heart from being yanked away. His face was contorted and his mouth wide, producing scream after scream. I fell to the ground next to him and said unevenly, "Tom! My lord, I'm here now! What happened?" No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the tears from falling down my face as I talked to him. I was a lost fool and felt completely helpless.

Tom contained his scream for once and groaned loudly. But he couldn't form any words as the groan turned back into a painful yell. No - I wasn't useless, I told myself. The fog was starting to fade, and I whipped my wand to levitate Tom's body to bring into the house. His screams began to lessen and turn into groans, whimpers, and raggedy breaths.

He howled at every movement or connection his body made. After I lied him in bed, Tom continued to clutch his chest with both hands with a grimace on his face. I accio'd the potions from my cabinet that cured heart and lung discomfort. As the bottles arrived in my hand, I disappointedly realized the heart potion was too old. It wouldn't hurt, but it wouldn't help much. "My lord, take this," I said to Tom over his cries of pain. He didn't seem to react to me, but I poured the liquids into his mouth nevertheless. He choked a little but swallowed most of it.

I wasn't about to wait for the potions to work as I knew it wouldn't be enough. I flicked my wand around as fast as I could to get the cauldron with boiling water and the ingredients I needed to make a fresh potion to cure the chest pain. But Tom's screams began to increase as if he was being freshly tormented again. My eyes were wide, and my eyebrows were creased. Maybe he needed to be sedated?

I had a few ounces of the Draught of Peace leftover from when I concocted it on a whim a year or so ago. That potion never expired, I recalled. A little would hopefully put him in a more comfortable position.

After it arrived into my hands, I told him as calmly as I could manage over his cries, "This will help you, I promise. But you have to take another potion, my lord." I measured four drops carefully and let them fall into his mouth. A moment later, he gratefully ceased his shrill screams. Yet the fact that he was still in overwhelming pain was obvious. His eyes were shut tight, unable to focus on the world around him. I never, ever saw Tom in so much pain. Was he going to die? Was this the end? He told me he couldn't die and that he wouldn't leave me. Tears slowly ran down my face.

I took a large, shaky inhale of breath, collected myself, and exhaled. No, I needed to stop this foolish thinking. I needed help - I needed Romule, a real Healer. Without giving my plans a second thought, I ran outside to get Tom's wand. Luckily the fog had almost fully dissipated, and the yew wand was lying on the dead grass next to the splayed, black book.

I ran back inside, but only to curse myself for almost forgetting a more important step than Tom's wand. I first needed to remove the anti-Apparition spell. For such an unfortunate time as this, I begged Tom to tell me how to remove his charms. The only one he agreed to was anti-apparition. It took me a few excruciating moments to remember the exact spell, but I quickly cast it as soon as the words came to me.

From out of my wand, a yellow wave of magic exploded around me and went through the walls of the house to the outside field and forest, removing Tom's charm. Now, I moved onto the next step and shoved Tom's wand into his clenched hand. He took it, but continued to groan and kept his other hand pressed into his chest. I put the wand tip on my Dark Mark and said to Tom, "We need Romule, you need to call for him."

Tom's hand shuddered away and grunted out the word, "No." He was so feeble, however, that I was able to keep his hand steady and the wand on my skin.

"Yes, I need his help. I can't do anything more. We need a Healer - a doctor!" I wasn't sure if Tom could be reasonable in this state. I closed my eyes and mentally thought of Romule, hoping somehow that would start the curse that bound us to Lord Voldemort's command.

The minutes felt like hours until the skull and snake burned brightly on my skin. The message had been sent, but it was up to Romule to respond.

Tom whined and groaned, pulling his hand away from my grasp. His breathing was no longer wheezy and raspy, but he seemed unable to keep endure the pain silently. It must be agonizing, and I felt my heart breaking as I watched him.

A loud pop behind me signaled Romule's arrival. I wiped the tears out of my eyes and turned around to see him. "Oh Romule, you came!" The sight of help gave me an extra boost of hope of a positive outcome, and I couldn't help but reach my arm out to give him a friendly touch. His blue-green eyes showed concern, and right away he heard Tom's groaning and grunting.

"What happened?" Romule asked seriously as he quickly brushed by me to examine Tom. Although not planned, I pathetically told him to the best of my ability how Tom arrived in this state. "I-I can't explain, but it's the result of a terrible, Dark Magic spell. All I can say is he ended up lying on the ground, screaming his lungs out again and again as he clutched his chest like it was going to explode from out of him. I took him inside, but as I was doing so, his breathing wasn't right." I then explained the potions I gave him, and how he was only calmer due to the Draught of Peace.

While I was informing Romule, he gave a brief examination of Tom. Romule conjured an ink well, quill, and parchment, and then charmed it to take notes and keep track of Tom's vital signs.

I finished with a plea. "But he's not getting any better. Please, please help him." I waited worriedly and watched Romule check Tom's eyes. He opened each eyelid one at a time and waved the light at the end of his wand in front of the iris. Romule finished his examination and stared at me.

"I need to get something from my house, but I will come right back."

"Yes, please, whatever is necessary. Just hurry, please."

Romule Disapparated, and I recalled he was in his normal clothing. It must have been his day off, and I was glad for the luck. I stood next to Tom's bedside, afraid to touch him less it cause him additional pain. My heart was heavy for him. No matter how hard I tried to stay strong, my eyes continued to sprout more tears. I wiped them away again, and a moment later Romule returned.

He held a white leather bag by its handles in one hand and a rectangle, metal plate in the other. The plate was at its longest a foot in length. Romule put down his bag, moved Tom's hands away from his chest (though Tom cried in agony as he did so), and placed the metal plate on top of Tom's chest. Tom tried to remove the plate, but Romule, with a tap of his wand, caused Tom's wrists to clamp to his sides. Tom roared out in frustration from being further powerless.

Romule cast his wand over the metal plate, and inside glowed a picture of different shades of yellow lines with a black background. I had no idea what I was looking at, but Romule certainly seemed to understand. He frowned and sighed while inspecting the magic slowly changing on the plate. After a few more minutes passed, during which Romule took notes himself on the parchment, Romule removed the plate from Tom's chest and undid the arm-lock hex.

"This is a very serious injury. He's not far from death, but from what I can tell, the damage and trauma is stable. He's not getting worse, but I don't think he should be kept in this state. You already gave him four drops of the Draught of Peace, you mentioned?"

"Yes, that's correct." Romule asked to see the bottle, and I obliged him. If he wanted to inspect the quality, I was more than happy to have a real Healer evaluate it. I can sacrifice my potion-making pride if something wasn't right. Anything to help Tom.

"Let's give him two more, and if he's still awake, one more."

It did take three drops to put him into a sleep-like state, but Romule assured me Tom would wake up after a few hours. He examined Tom again with the plate, while I started a pot of tea, unable to figure out what else I could do. As I poured out the tea for Romule, he accepted the cup and sighed, not quite happy with what he was seeing.

Before he could explain me further, he me in the eye curiously. "If you can tell me any information about what, exactly, he was trying to do, I might be able to help you more."

"I-I can't. I simply can't. He -" I paused to consider my words, "he made me promise not to tell, and so I can't."

Romule nodded in expectation, "So it is with him. Promises and lies and secrets. It's the tools of his trade." Romule took a sip of tea and went to sit down at the couch in front of the warm stove. I took my own cup and sat next to him, expectantly awaiting his diagnosis.

He sighed and began. "Eva... from what I can see and based on a rough estimation of what occurred, his aorta, both superior and inferior vena cava, annular ligament, left and right bronchus all have been severely damaged." I stared at him, unable to understand what he was talking about. He clarified, "It was as if something tried to tear his heart and anything around it out of his chest. His heart is significantly damaged, and he's lucky to be alive." My eyes welled again. In a calmer tone, Romule continued, "The potions you gave him certainly helped, and that's my professional opinion. Don't be hard on yourself, you did an excellent job with what was in front of you."

I sat quietly, trying to absorb the information. "So," I asked shakily, hating myself for being unable to stay strong and calm like how Tom always was, "there is no spell or potion that can cure this?"

"The Black Magic that he cast upon himself is still pulsing through his body. There is no cure for such curses as these. Tom himself will have to overcome it, and his body will heal through natural means."

My eyes lit up for the first time. "That means he will recover?"

"Very slowly. If he was in my hospital, I would say, at minimum, two weeks of complete bedrest. After that time, I would evaluate his condition and take it from there. But currently, his condition is so poor, two weeks might not be enough."

I didn't know what to say. I never imagined Tom ever needing bedrest. He recovers so quickly, all the time, from everything. Two weeks would be like a lifetime to Tom.

"And, Eva, when I say bedrest, I mean practically confined to the bed. No exertion must be made, otherwise his heart prone to further injury and severe complications. I will give you a list of ingredients and instructions to make a mild sedation potion, which I think he should be under for at least a few days. Also, you'll need an anti-inflammation spell."

"What's inflammation?" I wondered aloud, still swimming through my own thoughts of this unexpected future that lied before me.

"Swelling. It will lower the swelling. And, I'm terribly sorry, but I need to go back home at this moment Eva. I will come back later tonight to help you out with him."

Romule did come back later, and we set up a schedule on how I should care for Tom in the coming days. Romule did his best to set up the room like a small hospital bed, and therefore my duties were not so strenuous. During his prescribed coma, I mostly by his side, talking or reading to him.

On the third day, Romule came again and examined Tom's injuries. He believed that there were signs of improvement and determined that Tom should be woken up. Three hours after we administered the last drop of the Draught of Peace, as I was staring at Tom's face I saw his eyelids flutter. I sat at a dining chair I pulled next to the bed and continued to watch him.

Tom opened his eyes and stared hazily ahead, but not a moment later his face contorted into a pained expression. He gave a soft groan and tried to push himself up. "No, no you must lie down," I said softly and calmly as I put a firm hand on his shoulder.

His eyes looked to me as he was in too much discomfort to move his head. "Eva?" he questioned in a parched throat. Immediately I magicked the water jug and a cup to give him a drink. He accepted thirstily, but as he swallowed, he moaned again in pain. "Why...?" his voice strained out.

I explained to him everything that happened after he said the horcrux incantation. He listened with pained breaths, and the more he heard, the angrier he looked. After I mentioned that Romule ordered him to be in bedrest for two weeks, Tom heard enough.

"Two weeks! Agh-" he clutched his chest after his outburst. I gently lied my hand on top of his, hoping he would somehow accept his situation as quickly as possible.

"Yes, this is a serious injury. I'm not sure Romule has ever seen anything like it."

"Then how would he know how much rest I need?" Tom slowly managed to say without causing too much agony.

"My lord, he is a Healer. He out of all people should know. I trust him, and look at yourself - you are in no state to be doing anything other than lying down."

Tom stared at me, in a fury. I slowly watched as his grey eyes diluted into blood red. He could do nothing else, as he was practically immobilized by the the pain of his heart and lungs. So he looked away from me to the wall and said nothing else for the rest of the day.

I thought the silence of the following days were awful - until he began to talk. Everything that spewed from his mouth was a hate-filled curse or barking order. It drove him mad to be incapacitated and helpless. Every task and every function required my assistance as the pain in Tom's chest flared up with any movement. For Tom, he could not bear the fact that he now solely relied upon someone else to do even the simplest task.

The first day after he decided to talk, he told me to go look for the diadem in the morning. So I followed his orders. When I came back for the evening, I was greeted by Tom with shouts of outrage for being left to starve all day. I apologized, but in my heart I was growing angry with him. I was doing the best I could, and I didn't receive any words or actions of appreciation. All that was given to me was complaints, cussing, and commands.

I tried to give him comfort and understanding, but it was useless. He always refused my affections; he probably assumed it was pity. The only time I was finally able to get him to relax was when I put my hand down his pants one morning. But even that soured. The excitement eventually became too much for his heart to handle, and he gripped his chest in pain as he forcefully told me to stop. He grew more bitter after that.

By the end of the second week, I hoped that his attitude would soon turn around for the better. His mandatory bed rest would be over in a few days, and then he could start to feel like himself again.

"Eva," Tom said curtly as we lied in bed that morning. "Wake up and make breakfast already. I'm starving."

I rolled onto the other side of bed sleepily, not at all happy with my alarm. "Eva! I said get up. How can you be tired at this hour? The sun's almost over the mountaintops by now."

I rose out of bed slowly, wishing for the days when he didn't speak at all or, better yet, in a coma. "Yes, my lord." I wanted to glare at him, but I kept my feelings inside, not wishing to make an awful situation worse.

After I went into the bathroom to wash my face and get ready for another day of being Tom's nurse, I walked straight to the kitchen to start cooking eggs.

"Your problem is," Tom called out, as if I had asked him, "that you have a bad attitude."

"I have a bad attitude, my lord," I said with incredulity. I couldn't help but to turn around and stare at him. Did he really just say such a thing to me, right now? The hypocrisy was borderline outrageous. He pushed himself upright against the massive pillows that he rested against every day. It was the only thing he could do at this point. I found it an improvement and complimented him when he first succeeded; however it was nothing to be proud of, as he so succinctly explained.

He stared back at me, with his arms crossed lightly. Tom's handsome face was full of judgment. "Yes, this whole time you mope around, feeling sorry for yourself, and lazily do your chores. You should be in better spirits considering your position."

I let my spoon drop into the pan with the eggs, shocked at what he accused me of. All of those things might be true on some small scale, but my entire emotional state was in shreds because of him! "I need better spirits?" I repeated, still trying to process how to respond. "I only need better spirits because someone else is constantly draining my geniality day by day."

He continued to stare at me. His grey eyes narrowed, and his jaw flexed. I couldn't stand him any longer, and I looked back to my cooking.

Tom began to chuckle in a menacing tone. "Someone else is the cause of all this? There are only two people in this house, therefore the someone else is obviously me!" I continued to stare at the yellow eggs firming up from the heat. I let my silence be my response.

"So if I understand this correctly, it's actually me with the attitude problem?" Tom questioned icily.

My breath quickened and my hands shook as I transferred the eggs onto a plate. As I searched for a tray and the salt and pepper, I said quietly yet clearly, "Your behavior lately has been rather dour, and it's very hard for me to keep up a happy face when I'm constantly barraged with shouts and whines."

"I am constantly shouting and whining, am I?" Tom said, almost at a shouting level. "Well, by god, Eva, I'm positive that if you were in my position, you'd be singing, and laughing, and having a grand old time in bed, lazying about and loving the fact your every need is being cared for all the while you feel like your body has been compressed to the thickness of parchment!"

Although I was hurt by his accusations, I was angry more than anything else. "I know you are in pain!" I shouted back, but quickly lowered my voice to an acceptable level. "I have been doing everything I can these last two weeks to make sure you are comfortable and that your needs are taken care of. And not once have I gotten any sort of appreciation or kindness from you." I shut my mouth, though my heart wanted to tell him that he was bitter, selfish, and pathetic thing that couldn't even be called a man. I couldn't say the words as I had some small hope that this argument would soon be over, and we could pretend to get along for a few more days.

Tom scoffed loudly, but seethed soon after from the chest pain that followed. I found the tray and began to place the plate of eggs and silverware upon it. "You wish for me to be kind and appreciative when every damned breath I take is is agony? You have no idea whatsoever of what I am going though, and you expect me to put on a smile so you can feel better?" He paused. "You're the most selfish woman I've ever heard of - expecting to be praised and lifted to high heaven because of your devotion to me. Let me tell you this - I don't care about your feelings. I do not care about them at all! You are my servant, and I expect you to perform your duties at least impassively if cheerfulness is unavailable. You're an idiot to expect a man in pain -"

I was halfway across the room to deliver his breakfast when the tray flew up to the ceiling and stuck itself there, eggs and all. Tears were growing in my eyes as I repeated his words again and again my head. So quickly, he had broken my heart, and it was too much to endure.

I was close to the nightstand where his wand lied, and without a moment's thought I snatched it away from him. I held his wand in my hand, and I gripped my own wand in my apron pocket. "You are no man," I said as evenly as I could manage. I could the back of my throat swelling, and I so desperately wanted to cry. "You are nothing but a pathetic excuse for a human being, finding fault in anything and everything and not once being thankful for what I've done for you!"

How could he treat me this way? After I saved his life, after I was at his bedside worried all the time for him, after I've nursed him this half a month? I couldn't look at him, and I stared into the wall in front of me.

"What you've done? You are absolutely unbelievable right now. What have you done, exactly, Eva? You removed my anti-Apparition spell so that Romule, and any one else, can come here and find out I'm unfixable! You wasted most of your days sitting by me as I wasted away, while you could have already found the diadem by now! You -"

"Enough!" I shouted, and a teardrop cascaded down my cheek. I pointed my wand at his face. He might look like an angel, but all I could see was the devil. My heart was empty, and the well bucket that I used to find any sort of compassion hit hard ground. "I've heard enough. I've had enough! I can't be your servant anymore - I won't be your servant anymore. I'm leaving and you can take care of yourself from now on."

I turned around and walked towards the corner behind the dining table where our brooms rested. Tom could no longer see my face, and I silently let all my tears fall down. The tray and everything on it smacked to the ground behind me. As I walked away, with both our wands in my hands, Tom began calling out to me. "Eva, Eva! Where are you going? You're not really leaving, are you?" He said it surprised, as if it was a joke. His words inflamed me, and I swallowed hard to prevent from exploding.

"Eva, you can't leave me. You can't!" His voice was intense and fearsome, but I wasn't afraid of him. He fell silent as he watched my pick out my broom and head to the door. In a more tolerable tone, he stated "If you're really going, give me my wand." I continued to the door.

"Hey! Eva! Give it to back to me! You can't just take it!"

I didn't turn around as I opened the door. I heard him yelp and groan. He was probably trying to get himself out of bed, but I knew it wouldn't be any use. He was far too weak to properly walk even if he could overcome the pain. "Eva get back here - get back here or I'll kill you!"

I brushed his death threat aside. It didn't scare me - it only made me sadder that he would say such things to me. I shut the door behind me, and I heard a crashing sound and the door shook. "Eva!" I heard his muffled yell through the walls "Come back here! Come back! I'm going to kill you, I'm going to kill you Eva!"

Once outside I mounted my broom and took off. The morning fog was sitting low in the valley forest, and the mountains were white capped with snow. It was chilly outside, but anything was better than being in that room. I heard Tom's indistinguishable screams as I climbed into the sky, and I wept and wept.