Chapter Ten: Second Chance at a First Impression

Tom and Merope walked down the path, Merope watching in wonder as Tom smoothed the path as they walked. It was rocky and bumpy, but became smooth and easy to maneuver in the wake of Tom's wandwork. To Merope, there seemed to be absolutely nothing Tom couldn't do. She felt very safe and powerful for the first time in her life. It was how she could walk into the village without fear - she knew even the muggles could feel the sheer power and authority from Tom.

As they turned into the village, Merope gazed curiously at all of the shops and people, noticing the differences between them and Diagon Alley, but appreciating them both. The muggles looked at Tom and Merope curiously, having never seen either of them before. Were they new to the village? They had come from the same direction as the madman's hut, so the villagers were also a little weary to interact with them first.

Tom confidently walked into the bakery first, where Merope's mouth automatically watered due to the smells. She knew better than to touch anything though, doing her very best to behave politely for Tom. He noticed, and gestured to Merope. "Please, pick something you might like. I'm going to select some bread loaves for us."

She nodded, smiling broadly and immediately looking at all of the different pastries. Her gaze wandered over the cinnamon buns, tarts, and rolls appreciatively. She had never had a pastry before, but she did recognize the fruit smells coming from the tarts, so she selected one of those.

She brought the tart up to the counter, where Tom was introducing himself to the baker. "...and this is my pupil and niece, Merope."

She smiled shyly at the baker, placing the tart on the counter next to the bread Tom had selected.

"Excellent choice," the baker smiled at Merope. "These berry tarts are one of my favorites to bake."

Tom paid for the items and thanked the baker. Merope controlled herself until they had exited the shop, then took a bite of her tart. Her eyes widened and she smiled so big that Tom very nearly laughed out loud. She looked so much like a child in that moment - and to be fair she was in a way. Merope was starting to experience the childhood she should have had.

The tart only lasted until the next shop, Merope savoring the taste as they entered it. This shop was filled with spices and herbs, stacked neatly on shelves, with plants drying from the windows and behind the counter. A muggle man stood at the counter, chopping up parsley.

"Welcome!" He said, setting down the knife and brushing his hands on the apron he wore. "What are you looking for today?"

"Just browsing," Tom spoke easily. "I'm new to the village and wanted to introduce myself."

He walked up to the counter and shook the muggle's hand. "I'm Tom Evermore, and this is my pupil and niece Merope."

"Pleasure!" The man said in a booming voice. "My name is Luke - welcome to our village."

"Thank you. Now, do you happen to have these items?" Tom went on to list several basic herbs and spices for recipes that would help Merope grow stronger.

Luke was eager to help Tom, always happy to talk about the plants he worked with all his life. Tom actually found this large man easier to get along with than most sales people - his enthusiasm was not a manipulation to get Tom to purchase more items, but a genuine love for what he did. Tom could appreciate that quality, and found himself smiling slightly.

Merope liked the man too - he seemed like that of a large bear. Someone that she would not want to be on the wrong side of, but also a person who would be very difficult to get angry in the first place. He would keep the things he cared about safe at all costs, but not much else could crack his easy-going character. They found themselves in this shop much longer than planned, walking out with several small bags of items to cook with.

This pattern continued in all of the shops. In some, Tom would purchase items, notably the cream that Merope was so excited about, as well as various meats and vegetables. But in other shops, Tom simply entered to introduce himself and Merope to the muggles. He carefully kept track of their names and characters, already working on rebuilding the Gaunt's reputation.

Merope was incredibly proud of herself as each and every muggle they met accepted her right away. They were not afraid of her, or disgusted by her. Most seemed very happy to meet her, others seemed to find her wonder flattering. And she was constantly surprised and enchanted by everything around her. She loved all of these people, even though she knew there would be parts of her that they would never know.

They walked back down the road, each carrying packages from the shops. Tom had placed some packages in his rucksack, but kept most out in the open so as to keep appearances. He told Merope quietly that they would place the rest of the packages in the rucksack once they were out of sight of the village. Well, except for the cream - Merope was holding onto that tightly.

A horse trotted down the path, cutting the pair off suddenly. Tom placed his arm out in time to steady Merope, looking up to see who was on the horse. He found himself looking at an arrogant aristocratic face that was only too familiar. Tom Riddle. He found himself tensed up, trying and failing to remain neutral.

Merope looked at Tom Riddle, shock showing on her face. She had seen him in passing several times, had admittedly wanted to see him in the village, but had not expected this behavior from him. He had always seemed so gentle and polite to the people he was speaking with outside their home, only speaking ill of her brother and father. But here… he acted like he owned the village. She found herself looking to her Tom for his reaction.

When she saw him fighting for control, it unsettled her even more. Anyone who made Tom that upset was not worth her time or thoughts. She determined that she would not spend one more second thinking about this arrogant teen.

"Sorry!" Tom Riddle laughed unapologetically. "Didn't see you there!" His friends came behind him on their horses, passing the pair by to enter the village.

Tom muttered under his breath to Merope. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Merope answered immediately. "Let's go home."

Tom only nodded, walking down the path and working on regaining control over his emotions. He had just spent so much time building their reputation, and one interaction with Tom Riddle had almost unraveled that. He had no idea how to tackle all of the negative feelings that were brought up by seeing his father. It unsettled him to see, well basically his face as a youth, looking back at him with the same arrogance and superiority that he himself once had.

"No matter what," Tom finally spoke. "I want you to always remember you are special. That your magic and your abilities will speak for themselves - you do not need to behave the way that young man did in order to gain respect from others."

Merope nodded solemnly, knowing that what Tom was saying to her was very important. And Tom was speaking from experience too - he had tried his whole life to gain respect from others by fear and manipulation, only to be undone by a wizard who needed only his magic, but more importantly his love and self-respect, to defeat all of that. Respect came from inner strength and understanding, and approval would never be enough if that self-love did not exist. He may not be able to feel love, but he could logically understand the importance of this concept and wanted to impart that on Merope.

She gently placed her packages in the rucksack, then held the rucksack for Tom while he put the rest of the packages in. Merope grinned watching the magic in the rucksack kept itself light despite the massive amount of items inside. Tom took the rucksack back from her and they continued the walk home together.

"I think today I'll make some chicken and rice." Tom suggested as they entered the house.

"Okay." Merope nodded. "Would you like help?"

"That's alright. You should just sit down. Maybe you could read that book we got today?"

She nodded, heading over to the table and opening her fairytale book. It was much easier to read now that her eyes here healed, and she quickly became absorbed in the first story. Tom took out one of the cookbooks he purchased, flipping to the herb chicken recipe. He then deftly cut the chicken, rubbing herbs and butter into the meat. It may seem that Tom would not want anything to do with something as domestic as cooking, but Tom found it impossible to not be good at everything he set his mind to. Having been severely humbled in his previous life, he found these simple tasks to be more satisfying now than they were before though.

After cleaning the cauldron and the bowls from lunch, Tom added water to the cauldron and set it over the fireplace to boil. He then skewered the chicken and placed it over the fireplace to cook, away from the cauldron so as not to contaminate it. Once the water was boiling, Tom added the rice and rotated the skewer. He considered the pros and cons of creating some type of oven in the fireplace - it would make cooking much easier, but it would take time that he really didn't want to give at the moment. It would simply have to wait until tomorrow.

He turned away from the cooking and walked over to the table. Merope didn't even glance up, she was so taken by the story in front of her. She had already read through two of them and was onto the third.

"Would you read aloud?" Tom asked, doing his very best not to make it sound like an order. He knew that reading aloud would help Merope's reading skills, but he did not want to pressure her.

She startled and then blushed, but nodded uncertainly. "The Fountain of Fair…" she paused over the next word.

"Fortune." Tom said kindly, indicating she should continue.

"Fortune," she smiled at Tom. "High on a hill in an enchanted garden…"

They continued on like that, with Tom occasionally turning the chicken and stirring the rice. Merope grew more confident as she read aloud, Tom helping her with only a word here and there. They finished the story right in time for the dinner to be finished.

"That was a wonderful story." Merope said, cutting her chicken carefully. "Don't you think so, Tom?"

"Yes," Tom acknowledged after he swallowed his food. "It was read very well."

Merope blushed at the praise, but was also very proud of herself. "Don't you think it was interesting though, that the fountain was not actually magical?"

"Yes, very interesting. Do you understand why?"

Merope thought carefully over that while chewing her food. "Could it be… that magic is not the answer to all of our problems?"

Tom smiled at Merope. "That's very good. What was the answer instead?"

Her eyes lit up as she realized. "It's what you said before! About gaining our abilities, magic, and respect from ourselves rather than demanding that respect from others."

"Exactly, Merope, very well done."

Merope practically burst with pride, beaming as she finished her food. Tom was secretly pleased with her as well, she was improving at a phenomenal rate. And, as least partially, that was his success too. He had also done a good job on the meal, which made him very happy. He had mixed the nutrition potion into the rice for Merope and preserved half of it for tomorrow - he intended on making some rice porridge for breakfast. He refused - simply would never ever ever - make wheat porridge after Wool's, but rice porridge was just different enough that it didn't bring up the same negative memories for him.

"I'm going to take a bath." Merope told Tom after they had finished cleaning up from dinner.

"Alright, would you like me to charm your hair again after?"

Merope nodded her head, taking the book with her into her room. Tom placed the plates into the cupboard and then walked up to his room to return the rucksack to his closet. They would be buckling down to teaching and gardening, so he would not have need for it in the next week or so. He intended on checking on Marvolo and Morfin's progress every other week. Momentarily stretching out on his bed, Tom felt extremely content. The day had gone very well, and Tom felt ready to take on the tutoring and gardening that would follow.

Notes:

I want to give credit to the Beetle and the Bard, which I quote in this chapter.

Happy Reading!