Note: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling (that's Tom Riddle, Tom Marvolo Riddle & his mother [even though she doesn't have a name and never appears, in person, in the Harry Potter books], and Salazar Slytherin); the term "Muggle" is also the property of the great and worshipful J.K. Rowling. I hope I am not infringing any copyrights, 'cause this is my first fiction on the Fan Fiction website.
Reviews are welcome. Just don't kill me; I don't know what I'm doing. Here goes nothing.
Abandoned
What is this nonsense?
I can explain!
'I can explain'. Well, she had explained. She had told the truth. The truth? She had always been told that the truth was both beautiful and terrible. There was no beauty in it today.
Please...I'll never again do magic. Please, don't cast me out.
Sorceress! Deceitful temptress! You lied to me! If I had known...
'Deceitful temptress'. His words, echoing back through her tormented memory, stung more than the bitter cold into which she had been flung. Somehow, she could not leave his doorstep to seek any sort of shelter. The people of Little Hangleton passing by gave her odd looks. They did not offer her their help. She could not ask her for help. They had always thought her strange, always whispered about her, glanced at her askance, avoided speaking to her or catching her eye.
She could not go back and erase his memory of what he had seen, what he had been told. 'If I had known...' Even if he never remembered that he had seen her doing magic, been told that she really was a witch - even if he never remembered that he had cast her out - she would always bear the scar, knowing that he feared and despised what and who she really was, and whatever love he had for who she pretended to be could not overcome that fear and hate.
So she only sat on his doorstep, numbly soaking in the cold, letting the chill wind sting her battered heart.
Witch! Thing of evil! You seduced me!
No! I love you! I gave it all up for you!
Get out! I can't stand the sight of you!
Tom, no! Please...I am with child! Your child!
Liar! I'll not harbor a witch and her devil-spawn!
She had only tears. Only her tears to tell him how much she loved him. How much she had loved him before he knew what she was...and she knew what he was. A monster! Had he a heart at all, to abandon his own wife, whom he had said he loved? And his own child, whom she was carrying. 'A witch and her devil-spawn'. How could he say that? She was wounded now, by his words - crippled and unable to do anything but stare hungrily, longingly, at the second door to a world that had been slammed in her face because she was a witch who loved a Muggle. She could do nothing but sit in her flood of misery and shame, letting betrayal wash over her. She had nothing left to live for.
And what of the life inside her? How would the young child live? Would not he be scarred and hurt knowing that his father had abandoned him because his mother was a witch? What would become of her son? - for her magic told her the child would be a boy.
No - there was not quite nothing left to live for. She would give birth to this child, though she had to live on the streets for five months to do so. He would become a great wizard and overcome her failure; he would carry on her noble bloodline.
"Your mother was the weak link in a mighty chain, little heir of Slytherin," she whispered to the baby inside her, "but the chain will not break.
"You will rise above this betrayal. I was abandoned, but I will not abandon you."
Reviews are welcome. Just don't kill me; I don't know what I'm doing. Here goes nothing.
Abandoned
What is this nonsense?
I can explain!
'I can explain'. Well, she had explained. She had told the truth. The truth? She had always been told that the truth was both beautiful and terrible. There was no beauty in it today.
Please...I'll never again do magic. Please, don't cast me out.
Sorceress! Deceitful temptress! You lied to me! If I had known...
'Deceitful temptress'. His words, echoing back through her tormented memory, stung more than the bitter cold into which she had been flung. Somehow, she could not leave his doorstep to seek any sort of shelter. The people of Little Hangleton passing by gave her odd looks. They did not offer her their help. She could not ask her for help. They had always thought her strange, always whispered about her, glanced at her askance, avoided speaking to her or catching her eye.
She could not go back and erase his memory of what he had seen, what he had been told. 'If I had known...' Even if he never remembered that he had seen her doing magic, been told that she really was a witch - even if he never remembered that he had cast her out - she would always bear the scar, knowing that he feared and despised what and who she really was, and whatever love he had for who she pretended to be could not overcome that fear and hate.
So she only sat on his doorstep, numbly soaking in the cold, letting the chill wind sting her battered heart.
Witch! Thing of evil! You seduced me!
No! I love you! I gave it all up for you!
Get out! I can't stand the sight of you!
Tom, no! Please...I am with child! Your child!
Liar! I'll not harbor a witch and her devil-spawn!
She had only tears. Only her tears to tell him how much she loved him. How much she had loved him before he knew what she was...and she knew what he was. A monster! Had he a heart at all, to abandon his own wife, whom he had said he loved? And his own child, whom she was carrying. 'A witch and her devil-spawn'. How could he say that? She was wounded now, by his words - crippled and unable to do anything but stare hungrily, longingly, at the second door to a world that had been slammed in her face because she was a witch who loved a Muggle. She could do nothing but sit in her flood of misery and shame, letting betrayal wash over her. She had nothing left to live for.
And what of the life inside her? How would the young child live? Would not he be scarred and hurt knowing that his father had abandoned him because his mother was a witch? What would become of her son? - for her magic told her the child would be a boy.
No - there was not quite nothing left to live for. She would give birth to this child, though she had to live on the streets for five months to do so. He would become a great wizard and overcome her failure; he would carry on her noble bloodline.
"Your mother was the weak link in a mighty chain, little heir of Slytherin," she whispered to the baby inside her, "but the chain will not break.
"You will rise above this betrayal. I was abandoned, but I will not abandon you."