The next morning, I woke up with my head still resting on Tom's chest. His breath fanning my hair as I laid there listening to his heartbeat.
"You know, up until now I always had this feeling of emptiness where your head is lying." He mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, sighing as his arm wrapped around me, bringing me closer to his body.
I didn't know how to reply to that comment.
For once in my life, I felt needed, wanted, even. I felt like I had finally found my place in the world, and it was there, at Tom Riddle's side.
"My thoughts exactly. " he murmured, drowsily.
'Oops.' I kept forgetting we would now hear one another's thoughts.
We got out of bed unwillingly just after the sun began to ascend into the pink, purple, and yellow-colored sky.
I could feel Tom's gaze as I gathered my clothes and made my way towards the bathroom to shower.
I showered quickly dressing in a maroon floor-length skirt, and a loose black shirt, adding the thick black waist corset, Bella had given me, over it.
When I walked back into the room to find Tom staring blankly towards the now dancing flames in the hearth.
I checked to make sure that all of my things were in my bag.
When I realized the bag I used yesterday was in there as well, I quickly pulled out the bag, and pulled out one of the books I acquired in one of the shops, I had gone to while I was out Christmas shopping.
"Tom, I think might have found a book that eliminates the option of needing or making Horcruxes all together," I muttered, as I set my bag down on the floor.
I watched as he swiveled his head in my direction so fast I almost got whiplash.
"Really? How is that possible?" He asked, befuddled.
"It's an ancient spell. I found two books in the two muggle stores down the road, the books are in Latin. Both the shop keepers couldn't understand them, they were going to burn them. So, when they both realized I wanted them, instead of hitching their prices up, they instead chose to give them to me. It was good too because I would've kept them either way." I said, opening the worn-down wine-colored book, as gingerly as possible.
"What's the spell called?" He asked curiously.
"It's called Morse Ne Cantatio. It says here that the spell prevents a person on the brink of death from dying, by combining their soul with another living soul... The spell itself prevents either caster or victim from dying, instead falling unconscious for an untold period of time." I read, closing the book, and looking up to meet his gaze.
'This could have saved my mother, had there been someone who knew ancient magic there.' He thought, sighing.
"Another powerful spell I read was Nigrium Mortem," I said, reading what the spell did from the second book.
"Nigrium Mortem? As in Black Death? Like the muggle epidemic that killed thousands of people, not just muggles but wizards and witches too?" He asked, astound, his eyebrows rising in surprise.
"No, that's not the same thing. That is known as the bubonic plague in the muggle world. This spell actually burns a person to cinders, almost nothing is left behind but the shoe print of where the person stood..." I explained showing him the book.
"Interesting. What do you suppose these books were doing in those muggle shops?" He inquired curiously, his brows furrowing.
"I haven't the slightest idea," I answered with a shrug, putting the books back in my bag.
"Hmm. Well, let's get going. I want to stop somewhere before we go to our original given places." He said, standing and grabbing his bag in one swift movement.
I quickly waved my hand, making the sheets and pillows disappear into what was here before.
Checking to make sure we didn't forget anything in the room, before slowly making my way down the stairs.
I paid for the room and quickly left with Tom without a glance back.
We walked silently towards the path that leads out of the town. The town seemed too calm, almost an eerie feeling.
When we were finally out of the dingy town I began to get the feeling, as if we were being followed and watched. Taking a slow deliberate breath, before I closed my eyes and reached for Tom's mind.
'Tom, I-I think someone is following us.' I thought, trying to be calm as we continued walking farther into the path.
'I realized that a second ago.' He replied with a slight nod.
We both stopped in our tracks simultaneously and turned to face the person behind us.
It was clear he was a muggle.
His posture was slightly hunched, his face unsymmetrical - completed with a hooked nose, one eye slightly bigger than the other, and a mouth that had overlapping teeth concealed under uneven lips.
None of that was as horrid as the massive hump he bore on his back.
I flinched back, watching as he limped towards us, with a dagger, raised and ready to strike.
I raised my hand up as if in defense, and flicked my wrist.
'Stupefy!' I thought, watching as he flew back, landing unconscious in a heap on the ground.
"He was sent here by the Riddles." Tom murmured, disgusted as he invaded the man's feeble mind.
"What? How is that even possible? How would they know who we are?" I asked, stunned.
"They remember our faces." He said, calmly, a bit too calmly.
"Something must have happened for them to remember." He continued to mutter to himself.
"I knew we should have killed them." He muttered to me, pacing back and forth.
I stared down the road as a figure began making its way towards the town. I quickly pulled him towards the lining of the trees, leaving behind the horrid faced man.
"Obliviate," Tom whispered, pointing his wand at the unconscious figure.
'Rennervate.' I thought, flicking my hand towards the figure.
Taking my hand, with his brow furrowed, we apparated into London. It wasn't the place I thought we would apparate to, we ended up in the middle of Highgate Cemetery.
"Where-?" I began asking before he interrupted me.
"I was told by the orphanage that my mother is buried here." He simply said as he began walking towards the back of the cemetery.
He stopped in front of a stone cross. Engraved near the bottom was her name, and the day she passed away.
Merope Riddle Née Gaunt
1907- December 31, 1960
"I found this shortly after I started Hogwarts. The orphanage doesn't really let any of the children that live there, leave, and they hardly care enough to enforce anything on us." He explained.
"I think one of the reasons that I became who I am, was because of her. Growing up in that awful hellhole they call an orphanage was horrid. I would see children get beat up for crying, so I realized showing emotions was weak by the other children who resided there." He said, leaning down to look closely at the headstone.
"The woman in charge of that hellhole calls us all Spawns Of Satan." He said, smirking at a memory.
I nodded, staring at the headstone curiously. This woman died of a broken heart, it wasn't a choice but a decision.
I found myself wondering what I would choose if I had been in that situation.
Realizing quickly that I would live for my child even if I had to bear the pain of a broken heart for the rest of my days.
I, of course,later realized that it would be easier said than done.
"Come on, we should start heading our way before we're late." He said, smiling sadly at me as he took my hand and lead me back to the gates of the cemetery.
"I'll see you in a week, my love." He whispered in my ear, as he leaned down to kiss me on the lips, before turning anddisappearing with a resounding pop.