Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or Harry Potter.
Heirs of the Founders 18
Like Father, Like Son
The night after Merope visited Tom, or Serena did disguised as her, Tom had a dream. He dreamed of his mother, falling deeply in loved with Tom Riddle Sr. He dreamed of how much she hated the life she was living, and the desire for a better life. When Tom's father left Merope, Tom did not feel the burning urge of vengeance. He allowed himself to feel hurt and confused—feelings he rarely experienced. With those confused feelings, came a small fraction of understanding. Tom Riddle Sr. was a muggle and did not understand magic. Perhaps he did not like it. Perhaps he feared it. He may had felt betrayed that he married a woman pretending to be someone she was not. Tom could not entirely blame him for being upset, yet, Tom wished he had not left Merope when she needed him the most.
Tom did not dream of himself gaining power. He dreamed of himself living a simple life. People knew him and respected him, but not in the way he always imagined. Tom allowed himself to be great without causing people to fear and hate him. Tom was happy and satisfied in this life, and in his daydreams of becoming Voldemort, he never seemed satisfied. He always wanted more. Could this simple life really satisfy him? Could it fill his desire to be great?
Tom woke up, confused at his dream but feeling driven nonetheless. His mother risked so much to give him life. Shouldn't he give her the sort of life she wanted for him—for herself? For the past eighteen years, he thought of no one of himself. Now it was time he thought of someone else and who better than his own mother? He wanted his mother to be happy and smile at him from the life beyond. He did not want to live the remainder of his life knowing she would be angry at him. Changing would be hard, he knew that. However, he had to try. He thought of what his mother said, he could do something different and still be great. He could open a store, work in the ministry or write a book. He wasn't sure how to do any of that as he sat in Azkaban, wasting a way. Becoming Voldemort seemed too large for him, too out of the world. Certainly small things could be great too. If only he could find a way to get started. He had an interesting story to tell, of course. Writing a book sounded simple, but great. He wanted to resolve things with his father, in some way. He was angry at his father, furious, for him leaving his mother. It was unacceptable and pathetic. A part of Tom wanted to destroy him, and the other, demand him for answers. Yet he was scared..how could he look at the man who abandoned his mother, and not attack him?
The answer came when Serena visited Tom the next time. She was as beautiful as he remembered. He did not tell her about the vision of his mother. He didn't really believe it and he didn't know if Serena would understand. Yet Serena could tell that there was a difference in his face. Before Serena asked how Tom was doing, Tom turned the words around.
"How are you, Serena?" he inquired. "Do enjoy you teaching Kwikspell?"
"What—oh, yes," Serena mumbled, startled by his question. It seemed genuine. He once thought Kwikspell was a waste and now he was asking her how she liked it. "I enjoy it very much. My students are doing very well. Well, some still need practice, but they have come a long way."
Tom smiled. "I'm glad. I think it's good that you go out of your way to help underprivileged wizards and witches with their buried talents."
"R-really?" Serena asked. "You never seemed to think so before."
"I know," Tom admitted. "But my mother was a squib. She may have become a more accomplished witch if she had someone to help her."
"I suppose her father did not want to enroll her in a Kwikspell course," Serena said. "He probably could not afford it."
"Yes," Tom agreed, "I'm angry at them, not just my father but at my grandfather and my uncle too. They mistreated my mother."
"How do you know?" Serena asked, thinking he'll let on with his special 'visitor.'
"I remember the ministry officials saying something about it when they brought me here," Tom explained. "They told me that my uncle was crazy; and my grandfather had no respect for the ministry, let alone his own kin. Maybe if they treated my mother different, she wouldn't have felt the need to run away from home and marry that muggle."
"Your father," said Serena.
"Yes…my father," muttered Tom. "He ended up leaving my mother before I was even born."
He swallowed hard and his fists tightened. Then a thought came to him. "Serena, can you spare some parchment? And a quill?"
Being a Kwikspell teacher, Serena always had some on hand. She nodded. "Yes, what do you need it for."
"I want to write a letter," said Tom. "To my father, and my uncle."
Serena frowned. "I'm afraid your uncle won't read it. I remember Mr. Ogden saying that Mr. Gaunt told him that he had no use for owls—never opens letters. I'm sure Morfin's the same."
"Oh, I see," said Tom. Of course, his grandfather shut himself from the wizarding world completely. He didn't even open mail. "No matter, I suppose my uncle couldn't even read."
"I don't doubt that," said Serena. "I can give him a message from you though."
"But my uncle is dangerous," said Tom. "He attacked some of the ministry."
"I think I can handle him," said Serena. "I know some good defensive spells, and besides, I can make some really scary faces."
"Thank you," said Tom, "but I think I'm more angry with my father than my uncle."
"You still wish to write to your father then?"
"Yes," said Tom. "I know muggles don't receive owl post, so I was wondering if you can mail it for me?"
"Of course," Serena said, handing him some parchment with a quill and a bottle of ink. She then stuck her wand through the door and muttered, "Lumos" so he could have light. Tom waited a moment before beginning his letter. He wasn't even sure to open the letter as "Dear Mr. Riddle" or "Dear Father." Then as he inked his quill, the words came to him like lightning.
Tom examined his letter and handed it to Serena. Serena folded it into thirds and placed it into her robe pocket. "I'll be sure that he gets it."
"Thank you, Serena," Tom said. "I don't expect a good reaction though. I'm sure he doesn't want anything to do with me, and the feeling is mutual."
"But Tom, this letter," Serena said, "you're opening up to him. Maybe when you get out you can meet him."
"No!" Tom shouted, startling her. He lowered his voice. "No, I won't do that. I just want him to know the hell he put me through. I can do that without seeing him. No good muggle..."
Serena nodded. "But one day, Tom, you've got to stop thinking of him as a muggle and start thinking of him as your father."
Tom sighed. "Maybe...but I don't think I can."
"I do," Serena said. "I believe in you, Tom."
Serena beamed at him and then left the cell door. Tom looked through the window, smiling and shaking his head. He knew Serena was right, but he didn't want to believe it. How could he ever accept the man who left him before he was even born?
--
When Serena had a spare moment, she tracked down the Riddle residence. She disguised herself as a mail carrier so that she wouldn't look suspicious. She walked to the great house on the large hill. She stopped to admire the grounds. There was a rose bush and many flower beds around the house.
"Good morning," said a voice to her left.
Serena gasped and looked at the sound of the voice. She saw a middle-aged man on his hands and knees working in the flower bed.
"Oh good morning."
"Any mail for me?" he inquired as he pulled out some weeds.
"Your name sir?" Serena inquired, looking into her bag. Her bag only consisted of papers needed to be graded for her Kwikspell class.
"Frank Bryce," said the gardener.
"Hmm, no, Mr. Bryce," said Serena. "I'm afraid not. Perhaps next time."
"I was hoping to hear from my son," he frowned. "He's just left for Oxford and he promised he'd write every now again. Darn kids don't keep in touch with their parents these days."
"Oh, if he's just left then I'm sure he'll get around to writing you soon, Mr. Bryce," said Serena optimistically. "he probably doesn't have anything to write about."
She walked onto the front door of the Riddle house and pushed the mail into the mail slot. "You have a nice day, Mr. Bryce," she called.
"You too," said Mr. Bryce, whistling as he placed in new magnolias into the soft soil. Serena stayed close to see Mr. Riddle's reaction..
In side the Riddle manor, a maid walked into the entryway to pick up the mail. She turned around and walked upstairs to the drawing room where Tom Riddle was with his father working on a project. "Master Tom sir," said the maid, "this came from you."
"Thank you, Alice," said Tom senior. He glanced at the envelope. It had his address written on the front in clear writing but no return address.
"Who is it from, Tom?" asked his father.
"I don't know," said Tom. "Excuse me." He walked out of the drawing room and to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and ripped open the letter. He read the letter, hoping it was from his lost love Cecilia. Cecilia had never spoke to him again after she learned that he left her for Merope Gaunt. But to his surprise and disappointment, the letter did not start out with Tom's name and he did not recognize the writing.
Mr. Riddle,
You do not know me but I know you knew my family. You were married to my mother, Merope Gaunt, nineteen years ago. You may remember the Gaunts as a crazy family. They lived in the small, tasteless shack on the outskirts of Little Hangleton. Marvolo Gaunt was pompous and rude, Morfin far from sane but what about Merope? I know she wasn't the most beautiful girl that would have you, but was there anything she did that made you hate her? Is it because she was a witch? Is it because she tricked you into marrying her with a love potion? There had to be a reason why you left her and I know it was because of magic.
Yes, I know Merope was a witch. I know because I am a wizard and I gained my magical ability through her. I first thought that I was a wizard from you because I didn't believe magical people could die. Now I know the truth. I know you drove her to the death. You left her penniless, sick and hungry. She did not want to live in that dilapidated shack anymore. She gave up her old life to be with you and you would not accept her. She gave up on the end, but not before giving birth to me.
My mother, the wife you abandoned, had only seconds to live—long enough to name me. I am Tom Marvolo Riddle. Named after you, my father, and my grandfather, two men that thought of my mother as worthless.
You are lucky my mother only used a love potion on you. In the world of magic, we wizards could to much worse. You should be lucky she did not kill you when you abandoned her, and you are lucky that I've changed my mind about expending you. Instead I will let you live with the guilt of killing my mother. If we meet, don't expect me to call you father. You do not deserve to be called as such. As far as I'm concerned, I have no father and I am not your son. I've survived perfectly fine in an orphanage, in the hands of perfect strangers. My recent actions have caused me to go to prison. The prison I am in is not the kind of prison you know. It is more than concrete floors and bars. The guards literally have no soul and they suck the happiness and joy out of you. Many people go mad in this prison called Azkaban but I will be different. I refuse go go mad. When I get out, I will be a changed man. A better man than you.
Tom Marvolo Riddle
Tom stared at the letter for a while. Merope—he almost forgot all about her. His parents were furious with him when he ran off with her. The village gossiped about it for months. When he returned back to the village he got an earful about it. Cecilia did not want to reconcile their relationship and eventually married someone else. She never forgave him, no matter how hard he tried. He still pined away for her. It was pathetic. His parents tried suiting him up with women in the village but they all failed. Why did he have to ride by the tramp's shack that day? There were other routes into town he could've taken. It was so hot that day too and that girl was offering him a drink. Why did he drink it? Was it because he pitied her? He knew about the tramp Gaunt and the crazy son. He had a feeling she was leading him into a trap. He was trapped into a marriage he didn't want. All because he drank a glass of water. He didn't know how it happened but he seemed loose all sense after he drained that glass.
Now the girl is dead and but she is back in his life again through her son, his son, their son. No. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't be the father of a wizard of a freak. He would not have it. This boy with his name wasn't real. It was all a joke. It had to be Merope's brother. He was behind this. He sent this joke to play with him. It was time to put the psychopath in his place. Letter still in hand, Tom Riddle ran down the stairs and to the stables to saddle his horse.
"Sir, don't you wish me to--," began the stable keeper.
"No, I do it faster myself!" Hissed Tom Riddle as he fasted the saddle and bridle.
Even in a furious hurry, he still managed to get the horse saddled perfectly. Riddle then jumped onto the horse and drove it out of the stables, off the Riddle property and down the hill to Gaunt's shack. He drove right passed Serena without noticing her. She knew by the look on his face that something was not good. She knew because her Tom Riddle made that face before.
"Oh no," she muttered, "what have I done?" she ran after him, knowing she wouldn't be able to keep up with a horse.
Tom Riddle pulled his horse to a halt so fast the horse neighed in anger, nearly bucking him off. "Are you in there, you crazy bastard?" he remained on his horse as he shouted at the shack. "Come on out if you're man enough! I want to talk to you!
There was loud yell that unnerved Tom's horse. He told it to remain steady, though Tom's stomach turned a little and his heart skipped a beat. Somehow he started to regret his decision. Wasn't the tramp's son more than just crazy, but dangerous? And here Tom was...alone as he was about to face a sociopath. He should've brought a small army with him, with guns.
Morfin Gaunt, hairy, monkeyish and cross-eyed banged through the door. He looked at Tom with revulsion.
Tom waved the letter in the air. "You're behind this, aren't you? Did your sister put you up to this? She tell you about some child she had with me?"
Morfin hissed something. Tom laughed.
"That's all you've got to say?" Tom demanded. "What's wrong with you? Can't you speak English?"
Morfin raised his wand and blew Tom off his horse. Frightened, the horse ran off. Morfin ran at Riddle, throwing hexes at him and brandishing his bloody knife. Riddle struggled to get up but the hairy man was already on him, cutting him up. Tom began screaming.
"GET OFF OF HIM! RELASHIO!"
Something pulled Morfin off Tom like ten pair of hands. Morfin whirled his head around and his eyes fell on a girl with short blond hair in a muggle postman outfit. What didn' tmjake sense was that this muggle was holding a wand. The wand holding muggle, charged him and threw all sorts of hexes and jinxes at him. She finally finished by turning him into the animal he resembled the most—a monkey. She quickly caged the monkey up and turned to Tom Riddle.
"Mr. Riddle—are you all right?" she asked, her face turning soft immediately.
"H-how do you know my name?" grimaced Mr. Riddle.
"I know your son," she said quickly. "My name is Serena Moon."
"Son?"
"Yes-Tom," Serena said as she healed Tom's cuts with a wave of her wand and stitched up his clothes.
Tom took in the way she was dressed and then his eyes fell on the now tattered letter on the ground. "You were the one who brought the letter."
"Yes, I was," Serena answered.
"So...you know him then?" Tom demanded, looking at Morfin. "You his accomplice?"
"No sir!" Serena shook her head. "I wouldn't work with the likes of him! He's crazy. I can't believe Tom is related to him!"
"What?"
"Your son, sir," Serena said, "he asked me to give you the letter."
"My son."
"Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle," Serena insisted. "Yours and Merope's."
"So, it's true," Tom muttered coldly. "I do have a son with that...that witch, that freak!"
Serena winced. "Mr. Riddle, please...Merope was in love with you."
"She tricked me into marrying her!"
"She did," Serena admitted, "but please see it from her point of view. You've seen how she lived; can you blame her for wanting to get out? Her own brother and father treated her like dirt. She was desperate."
"There are other ways out," Tom said. "Like running away, or simply suicide. She wouldn't have pulled other people into her pathetic life."
"Mr. Riddle!" Serena gasped, stung. "H-how dare you! I know you must feel upset, but you shouldn't say such things! Yes, Merope wasn't exactly truthful with you in beginning, but she eventually told you who she really was. And because she was so in love with you, I'm sure was a good wife to you! I bet you she cooked, and cleaned, and talked to you when you were sad..."
"She did something to mess with my mind," Tom said, staggering to his feet. "I'm sure as a witch she could do anything."
"That's true," said Serena, "there are many spells. There is one called the Imperious Curse. When you cast it on someone you have complete control on them. She could've made you do anything...but that curse is hard to do and for one thing, it's illegal. But the rumor is she used a love potion."
"Love potions—I suppose those exist too, then?"
"Yes sir," said Serena. "She just wanted someone to love her."
"Why did she choose me?" Tom demanded. "Why not someone else—someone like her?"
"I don't know," Serena answered truthfully. "She didn't get out much. You must have been her only chance."
"I tried to forget that woman," Tom said as he started walking away. "Put her out of my mind...but my parents and the village, wouldn't stop gossiping about it. I lost the woman I really did love, my father was too embarrassed to show himself. It took nearly three years to get my respect back, some of it at least. Now, you resurect all that embarrassment by bringing me this letter." He picked it up and shoved it at her.
"Your son just wanted to know what life was like for him," Serena said,not taking the letter. It was his to keep. "He's trying to heal."
"I don't care what my son is doing!" Tom demanded, throwing the letter down. "I don't care if I have one. I just want to be left alone. You tell my son not to write me ever again. I want nothing more to do with him."
He started to walk away and Serena seized his hand. "Oh, no sir!" Serena said. "I am afraid I can't let you do that! Your son needs you!"
"I'm sure he can take perfect care of himself," said Mr. Riddle.
"But his mother is dead," Serena said, "and his grandfather. As you can see, his uncle is quite mad. You're his only living blood releative that can help him!"
"No," Mr. Riddle pulled back his hand. "This wizard, this freak, I don't want him. I don't ever want to see him."
"Don't think of him as a freak, Mr. Riddle," Serena snapped, getting into the man's face. "Think of him as your son!"
"Do not speak to me like that, little girl!" Mr. Riddle snarled.
"Oooh!" Serena jumped back. She never felt so furious. "You're impossible, Mr. Riddle! Just like your son is! You know what, he doesn't really want to see you too. Maybe he's better off anyway! How can you just start playing the father now? That's all right—Tom still has me and I'll take care of him. He doesn't need you. I'll be his family since his blood family won't give a damn!"
Serena grabbed the cage holding the Morfin-monkey and she pointed her wand at Mr. Riddle. After all the magic he had witnessed, he needed a modified memory. "You said you wanted to forget all about Merope," said Serena, "well I can make that happen. From now on, you won't remember a thing about Merope, her family or even your son!"
This was some magic Mr. Riddle wouldn't mind. He stood ready to receive the spell, the gift of bliss and ignorance. "Do it then!"
Serena's hand shook, she thought the spell and opened her mouth to say it. Then she shook her head and sighed as she lowered her wand. "No...I don't want Tom to be forgotten."
"What?"
Serena looked at Mr. Riddle as she put her wand back up her sleeve. "I want you to remember this. You can go home now, Mr. Riddle. I won't bother you anymore."
Serena walked away, leaving Mr. Riddle alone. She took the monkeyfied Morfin to the Ministry and explained what he did to Mr. Riddle.
"We'd better send an obliviator right away," groaned Ogden, Head of Magical Law Enforcement.
"Oh, no need, Mr. Ogden," lied Serena. "I've already taken care of it. I fixed the muggle up and modified his memory. He'll be all right." She cleared her throat. "So, what will happen to Mr. Gaunt?"
"Because of his history," said Mr. Gaunt, "I'm afraid we have no choice but to take him to Azkaban again. Maybe permanently."
"Well, that would be a nice reunion for him and Tom," Serena muttered.
--
Morfin made a racket all the way up,more than his last visit and more than what Tom did. The ministry officials decided to just let the dementors take care of it. It was impossible to fight against a dementor. The only way to drive off a dementor was with a powerful patronus, something few wizards could conjure. The prisoner were aroused from their slumber and they went to their doors to see what was going on. Tom heard the familiar hissing and spitting noises—Parseltongue. There was a new prisoner coming and it was a parselmouth. Tom stood up and went to his door. He said the first thing that came to his mind.
"You'd better stop talking like that," he hissed. "People might think you're crazy."
Surprised to hear someone else speak the language of snakes, Morfin became quiet. The dementors dropped Morfin in the cell across from Tom's and floated around. Morfin looked at Tom in a mixture of of awe and disgust.
"You look mighty like that muggle."
"Ah, I suppose you've met my father then," said Tom, looking Morfin over. "I'm grateful I got my looks from him...only good thing he's left me."
"Your father?"
"Yeah, I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle. Named from my father and grandfather."
"Marvolo was...my father," said Morfin. "And if you're named after him then..."
"That would make me your nephew," Tom told him. "Fancy meeting you here, Uncle."
Morfin stared. So his sister ran away with the muggle and hand a child with him. He couldn't believe it. His father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what Merope had done.
TO BE CONTINUED