Title: Bitter and Alone
Prompt: [Quote] "The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing." - Walt Disney
[Genre] Hurt/Comfort
School: Hogwarts, Year Three
Word Count: 2785
There was something the old lady at the orphanage used to say about him. "Thomas Riddle, when I look at you, I don't see a little boy you were supposed to be, but the devil himself. I pray to the lord he will save your wicked, dark soul." But there was no god to be heard when Tom had dragged her body across the floor, and ended her misery. There was no god to be heard when he'd murdered his birth family for every little thing they have failed to do for him either, for having abandoned him in that wretched place without even a shed of mercy. It really didn't help matters that they were nothing more than a loathsome, basically useless muggles either. There was no god to be heard when his mother had died, the mother Tom thought he would have liked to know, but maybe it had been for greater good she had died when she did. After all, from the little Tom did know about his mother, she had been weak to the very core. What would people say about him if they knew? He couldn't let anybody find out such a weak creature had birthed him, Tom Riddle, whom everyone loved ― well, practically everyone. That old geezer still remained quite suspicious of him even after he had begrudgingly allowed him to start his career at Hogwarts, always watching him carefully as if he expected him to do something undeniably wicked and dangerous.
"Tom." It was Ginevra Weasley who was looking at him with a far too bright smile and knowing brown eyes with a thick, old book clutched tightly against her chest as she watched him with a rendering curiosity she had always possessed. Little Ginny Weasley watching him, forever watching, asking questions not meant to be asked. Little Ginny Weasley whom he should have ended with all of her bright smiles and confusing feelings she brought to him a long time ago when she started asking the questions all those years ago, back when he first met her that fine September day when he was fourteen. He remembered thinking, maybe if she was dead, I would stop feeling like this all the time. It was an annoying and pointless feeling, but worst of all, it was distracting him from all of his duties and ambitions. Ginny Weasley had been a distraction that needed to be eliminated and it had been peaceful a few years since he'd graduated and didn't have to see her anymore, but now she was back, Tom decided he would have to end her miserable life quite soon, or else all of his plans would fall and shatter right before him. Ginevra had a special talent for ruining his plans without even meaning to do it. "Long time no see. How have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in years." Like a nosy creature that couldn't take a hint, Ginevra went in for a hug which he absolutely denied and resisted in every way humanly possible, if anyone cared enough to ask.
He definitely wasn't allowing such a behavior from her.
Ginevra pouted childishly at him, eyeing him with a slight disappointment. "It wouldn't hurt you to return my hug every once in a while, would it, Tommy? I am not asking for much. Just a hug." The first time anyone hugged him had been when twelve-years old Ginevra Weasley, far too ignorant for her own good, had hugged him with a force he really hadn't expected as a gratitude for saving her from drowning. If she died, and it wouldn't have been by his hand, Tom would have been very disappointed. The only way she was dying was by his own hand. He would murder literally everyone else who tried to touch a single hair on her pretty little head.
Tom took a deep, painful intake of a breath. "Why are you here, Ginevra?"
Ginevra blinked once, then twice. "You mean Professor Dumbledore didn't tell you, Tom? I am supposed to start my work here as your teaching assistant starting today." She looked worried. "He was supposed to tell you." She spoke in a small voice, before taking a deep breath and brightening up again. "Come on, Tom, imagine how much fun it would be. It would be just like the old times." Tom was already feeling the beginning of a very painful headache. He swore he was going to murder that old geezer one day if it was the last thing he did. It was the least he deserved after everything he had done.
Ginevra Weasley, the youngest of seven children, grew up hearing tales about fairy tale prince charmings and knights in the shining armors who would save the day and rescue the princess, the story ending with them happily married. But here was the thing, Ginevra Weasley's story was never going to be a happy one. Being the youngest of seven children meant your mother barely had any time to pay any attention to you, let alone listen to your problem surrounding foolish boys with anger problems and family issues that would rival Sirius Black's. More than often, if she wasn't busy doing housework, she was telling her father and her six brothers what to do as if they didn't possess a brain of their own that was quite capable thinking of their own. She was busy looking after Harry Potter who despite the fact he had parents of his own, still found the need to steal away her mother just because he felt abandoned back at home due to the divorce his parents were going through.
Ginevra Weasley's story was never going a fairy tale, and her prince was more likely to stuff her with a pillow and murder her in her own bed.
Tom Riddle was an enigma. Tom Riddle would have you believe he was truly and utterly in love with you until you found yourself doing twisted things just because you do love him and when you realize he doesn't love you at all, that you have done those things for a man who would never return your love, you wish you were dead. Ginny Weasley had seen that happen to many women and her Tommy, Tommy who lied through his teeth as easily as one changed robes, who kept lying and lying until you weren't sure if there was an end to all of his lying and treachery, hadn't blinked an eye at all to anything while it was still happening. Tom Riddle was a monstrous creature who was capable of doing many things if he wished for it, and nobody knew that better than Ginny Weasley. So, why was it that every time she thought of him, her heart raced and her cheeks flashed the way it did with nobody else? Why did she have to love him, him who probably would step on her feelings and destroy her from her insides before eventually killing her for his own selfish purposes, when she knew full well she deserved so much better? Believe her, she had tried to move on, but even as she laid awake in Dean Thomas's arms, a normal man who would actually make her as happy as she deserved to be, it was still Tom's face she saw when she closed her eyes. It was bitter and twisted, and sometimes made her wish she could just kill him for making her feel this way, but even then, she wouldn't exchange this love for anything.
He was the only thing that made her feel alive. She wondered what that said about her, that a man with barely a heart could make her feel as if she was actually living, instead of the walking corpse she usually felt like on a daily basis. Probably not many wonderful things. Ginny Weasley breathed hard and snapped her eyes open, welcoming the unfamiliar sight of her bathroom with a slight, tense smile. She leaned against the edge of the bathtub, leaning her head against her shoulders, her long red hair falling coolly against her fair skin. And then, picking up the newspaper with wet, sticky fingers, Ginny read, "YET ANOTHER STUDENT FOUND DEAD IN HOGSMEADE," and she knew with a heartache in her chest that it had started all over again. Ginevra dropped the newspaper to the floor and hugged her legs to her chest, trembling awfully at what an awful human being she was to feel anything positive for a man who was capable of doing such a despicable thing, and cried.
She needed to figure out some way to stop him before more people died. She just didn't know how she would accomplish such a thing. May gods give her mercy. She was going to need it when she would eventually have to deal with him. After all, as someone very wise and important have said, the way to get started was to quit talking and begin doing.
She was everywhere he went now. It was annoying and infuriating, almost managed to ruin his carefully planned out plans yet again, and he wished to end her miserable life just then for it. She tagged along with him to his classes, always happy to help any student in need of an aid, tagged along with him to the teacher meetings, carefully writing down anything anyone had to say. She nagged at him during lunch times and pushed a dinner at him to eat, eying him scoldingly. She dragged him around Hogwarts, scolding him for not going outside his office enough, to stop hiding himself inside the library. And when she wasn't there, she was forever on his mind, distracting him in a way no man or woman should have, annoying him to no end. Tom Riddle ought to have ended her miserable life a long time ago, and he simply couldn't understand why he still had not. It wasn't as if he was busy with work. After all, Ginevra was there to do any paperwork he detested having to do now, always happy to help, to provide help to him. He could have killed her any day of the week, but he had not. It was confusing him to no end.
Tom Riddle casually took a sip of his tea, breathing in the heavenly smell of jasmine, while he waited for someone to discover the body he had left behind. There was a sudden, familiar scream to be heard in the hallway. Tom blinked his eyes, and headed towards the source of the noise, leaving the cup of tea on the table of his office. Ginevra Weasley stood shaking there with wide, horrified looking eyes as she gazed down at the body, her lips trembling in a fear. She threw herself at him as she shook vividly against his arms, tears falling down her eyes. "Oh, Tom ― Tom, how could anyone have done such an awful thing? May gods have mercy!" She cried against the crone of his neck and by the time Professor Dumbledore and others had arrived, she was a crying mess, making a scene. "Professor, please tell me you would find out who had done this! They must be punished. Right, Tom?"
Tom nodded his head. "It is deeply awful, what they've done to such a young child, monstrous even. We cannot afford to let those things continue happening, Professor."
Albus Dumbledore nodded his head, his eyes thoughtful. "Indeed, and I give you my word we will find out who has done this. It's a promise."
"I hope you are right, Professor. I do hope you find the murderer." Ginevra spoke softly, hiccuping as tears continued to spill down her eyes. "I really do." And while he held her shaking body, all he ever felt was a deep, unmistakable amusement. Look at them making a fool out of themselves, unknowing the culprit stood among them. Albus Dumbledore gave him an eye and Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The man may suspect him, but without solid evidence, he could do anything but sit down and wait for him to make a mistake. But well, guess what? Tom was far too careful to make any mistake. By the end of this school year, he would have what he wanted and he would be free to bid this school a goodbye. Free to design the world as he saw fit, like he'd always wanted.
My lord,
Shall I assume there is a progress going on with your plan? Forgive me speaking out of turn, my lord, but others are getting impatient. It had been almost a year since you'd promised us a world free of the muggle filth and likewise, but so far, you have done nothing that could possibly convince us you are doing what you can to bring us the world you've promised us back when we were teenage boys. Forgive me if I've spoken out of the turn, my lord, but it needed to be said.
Lucius A. Malfoy
Ginevra clutched the letter in her hand with a deep frown on her face, her chest sinking. She had known Tom was getting up to shady things, of course, but she didn't quite know the things he was involved with, were this level of immoral. With shaking fingers, Ginevra tucked the letter inside her pockets, just in time to spin around and see Tom Riddle standing nearby the door, watching her far too calmly. "Tom." She breathed hard, fear crawling around her skin. "Oh, Tommy, what have you done?"
Tom walked towards her with slow, careful steps. With each step he took, Ginny took another step back, shivering, looking for a way out. "I am afraid that you are going to have to get fired, Ginevra. I hope you understand exactly how apologetic I am to have to tell you this, but I don't take too kindly when my subordinates go snooping around my office."
Ginny barred her teeth at him, shaking her head. "You disgust me." It wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't a complete lie either.
Tom rolled his eyes, and then started to walk towards her, only for Ginny to pull her wand at him. "Now, don't be reasonable, Ginevra."
"My name is Ginny." She informed him, shaking her head bitterly. "Now, I am going to tell you exactly what I think about this whole fucked up situation in an immense detail. I think you really fucked up this time around, Tommy. I've always known you were heartless, but I never imagined the reason behind every awful thing you've done would be something as laughable as a blood prejudice. I couldn't have possibly imagined you would sink down even lower." At the look he shot her, she laughed humorlessly, shaking her head. "I've always told you, didn't I, Tommy? I know you the best. Every little flaw, every little mistake, I've known and yet, still loved you, but this, I can't ― won't stand for this, Tommy. This is simply evil. I am not going to stand by and watch as you burn the world, Thomas. I simply won't." And before he could do anything to stop her, Ginevra Weasley pointed her wand at the edge of her head. "You did always think you were the one who was going to be the end of me, did you, Tommy? Well, I am not giving you that satisfaction. Goodbye, Tom." She breathed hard and cast the spell, her world turning dark forever.
There was something the old lady at the orphanage used to say about him. "Thomas Riddle, when I look at you, I don't see a little boy you were supposed to be, but the devil himself. I pray to the lord he will save your wicked, dark soul." And for the first time in his life, Tom wondered if she was right. Standing by the grave of a witch he realized he had loved only after she was gone, Tom felt a bitter loneliness inside his heart. No, Ginevra dying didn't do anything to erase the feeling inside his chest at all. It only made him feel worse, made him feel lonely and for the first time in his life, he wondered what the point of gaining immortality would be if he was forever stuck with this feeling inside his chest. He wanted to feel nothing, but in the end, he still felt absolutely everything. He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. Tom Riddle put a dark rose on top of her grave and after one last look at the stone, turned on his heel and disappeared into nothingness.