Heirs of the Founders

Chapter 22

The New Gaunt House

So he could have an edge in fixing his grandfather's house, Tom went to Diagon Alley to purchase a book on wizard cleaning and refurbishing. In addition, he walked to Ollivander's to buy a new wand. Now that he was free from Azkaban, the ministry allowed him use of a wand. Tom did not want to use a wand. He became used to not having one and he was worried that the extra power would bring him back to his old way of thinking. Would he find himself desiring to become Lord Voldemort?

No. He couldn't' have that. He needed a wand for this project. The house was in such bad shape it needed magic to be refurbished. No amount of muggle manual labor would make the Gaunt hovel livable again. Not only was it dilapidated, it was possible there were some things cursed in the home, and Tom would need a wand to cast countercurses.

Tom took in a deep breath and pushed open the door of Ollivander's wand shop. He walked to the front counter, looking around. The last time he was in the shop was when he was eleven years old, purchasing his first wand. It did not occur to him then that he would return to replace his Yew wand.

"Hello?" said Tom. "Mr.. Ollivander?"

Mr. Olivander approached the counter and smiled. "I thought you would be coming, Mr. Riddle."

"You did?" Tom asked.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore told me," said Mr. Ollivander. "Do you remember the core or your wand?"

"Yeah," said Tom. "It was a phoenix feather."

"From Dumbledore's pet phoenix," said Mr. Ollivander, taking a box from under the counter.

"Wait...my wand core came from Dumbledore's phoenix?" Tom gasped.

"And the phoenix has intrusted you with a new feather," Mr. Olivander removed the lid from the box. "Professor Dumbledore knew that you would need a new wand, so he sent another feather from his phoenix. This wand will represent your new life."

"Is the wood...the same?" Tom asked.

"No," said Olivander, shaking his head. "I decided not to use Yew again. Yew is considered the wood of death but your life is different now, Tom. So I used Lignum Vitae—the wood of life."

The wood was reddish orange and the length was twelve inches. Tom put his hand around the handle. It felt so different from his last wand. He felt powerful, but in a completely different way. He felt that he could not just bring new life to his uncle's old home, but bring new life to anything. Tom waved his wand and muttered, "Scourgify" There was a scrubbing sued on the floor and within a second, it was spotless.

"It's perfect," said Tom. "Thank you...and this time...I am able to pay in full." Tom smiled and paid for his wand, left the shop and he was ready to put his wand to work.

Serena and her students helped Tom fix the damage to the Gaunt home. It was hard work but the students were happy for a chance to put what they learned in class to use. Carl Jones, the oldest of the group, gathered all of the mice, rats and other pests in a cage and took them outside. The girls, Serena especially was very thankful for that. All of the old and damaged furniture was taken out and destroyed. Insulation and wood was placed against the cold stone walls and Serena put in soft green carpet. Arable washed the inside of the windows while Paul Mathews, a new student, washed the windows on the outside. New furniture and curtains replaced the old and damaged. Tom repaired the cracks in the walls and the broken windows. When they were done with the inside of the house, they started on the outside. The garden was a mess of weeds and garden gnomes. Serena told her students to use Flipendo on the garden gnomes. When her students found that the spell was difficult to master, they picked the gnomes up, spun around and tossed the gnomes out of the garden.

"Well," said Serena. "I suppose that works too."

They worked on the front of the house and the front garden. Tom Riddle Sr. rode by on his horse and for a moment, he thought there was a new house in place of the shack that belonged to the Gaunts. Then he remembered the shape of the house. It was the same house, but it looked different, cozy and inviting. There were people restoring the porch and the door. Tom Riddle Sr. spotted a young pale man with dark hair working on the siding of the house. The young man reminded Tom the way he looked when he was younger. Could this be his son? Tom Riddle Sr. watched the young man that could be his son for some time and then he left before anyone saw him.

The "restore the Gaunt house" project was finished in three days. Tom was grateful and impressed to the help of Serena and her students. He knew it would have taken him weeks to restructure the house all by himself. The team celebrated by having dinner at the Rabbit and Moon Pub. Tom also gave Serena and her students a signed copy of his book.

"Sixteen and Imprisoned: How I Survived Azkaban," said Serena, reading the title. "Wow, I can't wait to read it!"

"I haven't even seen this in Flourish and Blotts," said Arabella. "These are the first copies?"

"Yes," answered Tom. "I asked to have enough copies for all of you."

"Thank you, Tom," said Serena.

Some people remained around the table to sit and talk. Serena brought Tom upstairs to talk in private. Tom didn't mind as he had some things he wanted to talk to her about. They went up to her room and Serena looked over Tom's book several times before she placed it on her bedside table.

"It's so generous of you to give us these," said Serena.

"It was generous of you to help with the house," said Tom.

"Tom, did you send one to your father?" Serena questioned. "It would be a good idea for him to read it."

Tom crossed his arms. Why did Serena have to bring up his father? He sighed.

"No, I couldn't get any more copies," he said.

"Have you thought about giving him one?"

"Not really," said Tom. "I've been too busy working on my uncle's house."

"Did you write him since you left Azkaban?" Serena inquired.

"Yes," Tom groaned.

"What'd you tell him?"

"I told him I was out of prison," Tom answered. "That I was working in a pub and writing a book."

"You told him about your book?" Serena asked, surprised.

He shrugged. "I was going to leave the letter at my prison release, but I thought that it'd be important to know what I was doing."

"When there are more books in print," said Serena, "you should send your father one. I think it will be the best way for him to learn about you."

"You really believe he'll be willing to read it?" Tom asked.

Serena shrugged. "I don't know, but he obviously read your letter. Maybe he'll read your book too."

"Yeah, maybe," said Tom, turning around. "I'm going home now."

--

Tom's new book became a best-seller in no time. Tom left the Hogs Head and moved into the Gaunt House. His As a housewarming gift, Serena gave Tom an owl. Tom first used the owl to send a copy of his book to his father. He didn't want to talk to his father, but he did want him to know about him. It was the best way for Tom Riddle Sr. to learn about his son. No letters or spoken words had to be exchanged. Tom Riddle Sr. would learn about Tom Marvolo's life the same as everyone else that would read Sixteen and Imprisoned: How I Survived Azkaban.

Before sending the book, Tom wrote a message on the inside cover:

To My Father:

This is my first book. It just entered the bookstores a week ago and is already a best-seller. I did not expect it to become a popular book. I am the youngest person to be imprisoned and I wrote the majority of this book while in Azkaban. I don't want to talk to you and I know you don't want to see me. However, as my father, I think the best way for you to get to know who I am is to read this book.

Tom Marvolo Riddle


Tom tied twine on the book for the owl to carry and sent the owl to the Riddle House. Tom Riddle Sr. was in his room going over the the landscaping of the village. Little Hangleton was the property of the Riddles for centuries. The Gaunt House, he believed, was in the village for as long as his family owned it. He searched his house for sketches and documents on the Gaunt House. It was hard to find for the Gaunt House did not belong to the Riddles not to mention it was a house his family never wanted to enter.

Through his scavenging, he happened to find a photograph that was taken thirty years ago. The house looked worse than he remembered it. Tom recognized the picture; he had taken it himself when he was ten years old. He was playing in village one day and he bribed one of the village boys, Paul Risenger, to stand near the house while he took the picture. If Paul could stand within five feet of the house long enough for Tom to take a picture, he would give him ten pounds. Paul was a show off and loved to take risks. He would do anything for some money. He had snuck up to the house and touched the window. Tom flashed the picture in a second and the boys ran off the property before Mr. Gaunt came out. It was amazing that Tom Riddle and Paul Risenger was able to approach the shack safely.

Tom Riddle compared the old photo with the picture he took two days ago. He still couldn't believe that the Gaunt House was the same house. It was the same size and shape. The weeds were replaced with flowers. The house was newly painted and restored. When he was younger, he hoped his family could have the house broken down. It looked disgusting and was a waste of space in the village. Now the shack looked a cozy, comfortably little cottage. Now Tom considered buying it and renting it out.. Why did the place change? Tom was certain the young man he saw was his son. Was this young man his son? If it was, then why would he be in Little Hangleton?

There was a sharp quick tapping on the window. When he looked up, he saw an owl flying way. Tom raised his eyebrow in surprise. It was the first time he'd seen owl so close in the day time. He stood up and opened the window. He found a book tied with strings laying on the window sill. It was black with the title written in white. What grabbed him was the author's name: Tom Marvolo Riddle..

"My son," Tom murmured, opening the book immediately. He remembered his son mentioning writing a book. The Riddles liked anything to do with success, though they did not like magic and superstition. They believed in things that were real. Now Tom had experienced magic and as much as he hated it, he knew it was real. He could no longer deny it. He was the father of a wizard.

Tom promptly sat down and began to read the message his son wrote to him. He smiled, inwardly agreeing that he did not want to speak to his son. He did not know what to say. He couldn't talk about his mother. He could hardly remember her. The Riddles grew up in luxury and had everything handed to him. They never had to work for money. They had everything they could want. Tom Marvolo Riddle was different. He was born at an orphanage and he had no one to tell him his talents and abilities. He made mistakes that cost him four years of freedom. Now he was a writer, living in a restored house. Admittedly, Tom Riddle Sr. was curious about his story.

As Tom read the story, he could tell that Tom Marvolo was his son. He had the same drive to prove himself. He found the book interesting and inspiring. Tom Riddle Sr. had no idea what Azkaban was, but through Tom's book, he could tell that it was a place he would never want to visit. Tom finished the book in two days and then, he did not know what to do. He found himself riding by the Gaunt house everyday. He was certain that Tom Marvolo Riddle was living there, but he couldn't bring himself to knock on the door.

--

In the Spring, Morfin's day of freedom finally came. Tom Marvolo Riddle came with the ministry officials for his release. Tom could not believe the site of him. Morfin did not even recognize Tom and acted like he was going to attack.

"Uncle, relax!" Tom hissed before anything happened. Morfin recognized Tom's voice, and the language. Morfin relaxed.

"I forgot you were coming, half-blood," said Morfin.

"I said I would," said Tom, putting Morfin's arm around his neck. "We're taking you some place where you can get better and then we're coming home."

"Home?"

"You should see it," said Tom. "I've fixed it up. You won't recognize it."

Tom helped Morfin down the stairs and outside. While riding in the boat, Tom gave Morfin a block of chocolate as he talked to him. Morfin was quiet for the trip to the mainland. When they arrived at St. Mungos, the healers estimated that he would need a month or more to recover from the damage Azkaban put upon him. The waiting period was longer than Tom's hospitals stay. Tom didn't care. His uncle was out of Azkaban. That was all that mattered.

Serena visited Tom nearly every day and often had dinner or lunch together.. Serena did not come with Tom to fetch his uncle, and she probably wouldn't have done it even if he had asked her. She had a strange feeling about Morfin and after Tom's release, Serena never wanted to return to Azkaban again. It was hard even when she came to visit him. When Morfin was "safe," Serena would be happy to visit Tom and his uncle.

"He looked horrible, Serena," Tom confided to her over dinner. "Another week in that hell hole, then he would've died. I'm sure of it."

"I'm sorry, Tom," said Serena.

"Now I know how you felt when you came to get me," Tom said softly. "I must've looked like a monster."

"No," Serena shook her head. "Just tired, and old...older than you really are. But you looked like you wanted to stay strong. I could tell you were going to make it. Does your uncle look like he's going to make it?"

Tom shrugged. "Well, he survived Azkaban once."

Serena smiled. "Good."

Tom looked out the window. "I sent a copy of my book to my father."

"You did?" Serena asked. "Really? When?"

"A week ago," said Tom. "I figured you were right about sending it to my father. He had to know about me. I can't let him go on living in ignorance about my mother...and me."

"Did...he ever write you back?" Serena asked.

Tom smiled sadly. "No, but I didn't expect him too. Whether he reads the book or not...I know I've tried."

"I hope he does," said Serena thoughtfully. "It's such a wonderful book; it'd be a shame not to read it."

"You think so?" said Tom, looking up from his teacup.

"I know so," Serena insisted. "I read it in a day. I just couldn't put it down. It made me cry...and laugh at times. It helped me understand you more. I love the part in your book, when you write about Slytherin's card and how you wanted to get your name on one of those. You wanted to become great. And I'm sure, very soon, you'll have your face on a card someday.""

"Thank you, Serena," said Tom.

"Tom," said Serena, decided to continue as she was already ahead. "Tom—I—I've always known...that you were a good person, no matter what anyone else said about you. It was hard, knowing the things that you did and seeing you in Azkaban, but I knew you would change. I've always cared about you, Tom. Always. I always wanted what was best for you because, well, I love you."

Tom stared at her and then got up. He had to do something to busy himself.

"Tom...didn't you hear me?" Serena asked.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Did you have enough to eat, Serena? Do you want pudding?"

"Tom!" Serena got up and took his arm. "I don't care about dinner right now. Tom, I love you! I have loved you for a long, long time. Maybe not when i first saw you, but I know that I love you. My heart broke to pieces when they took you away. I knew that it was only going to be for four years, but I was afraid that I'd never see you again."

After meeting with Sammy, Tom had a feeling Serena was in love with him. Tom had his suspicions why Serena would risk her sanity to visit him in Azkaban. Now that Serena had confessed her feelings, Tom did not know how to feel or what to say. Did he feel the same way? If he did, what was he supposed to do? He couldn't start a relationship with her. His uncle was in St. Mungos. He would be coming back home soon and Tom would have to care for him.

"Tom...Tom please, look at me," Serena pleaded, tears stinging her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. "Tom, say something!"

Tom sighed and turned around. He pushed Serena back gently. "Serena...it means a lot to me knowing you care that much about me. Your letters and visits helped me stay strong. I'm sure I wouldn't' be standing here today if it wasn't for you."

"Tom..." Serena whispered.

"I never really understood love," Tom admitted, "to be honest, I still don't think I do. It's kind of complex. Especially how someone can love someone and not be loved in return. My mother loved my father, I'm sure she did. But he didn't love her because she was different."

"Tom...that doesn't have to be the same with you and me," Serena said. "We can be together. I'm at my happiest when I'm with you. I feel so warm and calm. I love to listen to you talk. I love everything about you."

"Serena, I'm afraid," Tom said, "I can't return your feelings."

"What?" Serena asked. "You don't love me?"

Tom sighed. "I don't know, Serena. For a long time, in Azkaban, I forgot how to feel. I don't know what love feels like. I forgot what happiness was...at least pure happiness. I got happy when I took my revenge out on the other kids in the orphanage. When I opened the Chamber of Secrets. Then in Azkaban, all I could remember was the times when the kids annoyed me, when people did not respect me. I was so angry in Azkaban, so sad. I had to learn things again when I got released. I had to find new ways to make me happy, and I'm still learning, Serena. I still have trouble contorting my anger."

"But I thought you were past that," said Serena.

"I'm sorry, Serena," Tom said. "I just feel so...confused. I do enjoy being near you, I do. But even if I knew I loved you, I wouldn't know what to do about it. My uncle is in St. Mungos and I'm supposed to be taking care of him soon. I can't just...abandon him when he needs me. And I think...IK need him too. I kneed to be close to my family. He's the only person left—besides my father—that knew my mother. I want to know about her."

"Of course you do," Serena said, swallowing. "You did put a lot of work into this house. You need to reconnect with your uncle, and hopefully your father too. I'm sure we'll get our chance in time. We're still young."

"Are you upset?" Tom questioned.

"Upset?" Serena chuckled. "Me? Of course not! I'm happy, Tom...I'm happy that you want to be with your family. It's good for you. I know it must be hard though, so I just wanted you to know, that I love you, though it might seem that your uncle or father doesn't."

Tom looked at her for a while. He knew he was just saying it for his benefit. He could tell that inside, her heart was breaking again. But how could he bring himself to tell her he loved if he didn't know he really did? He didn't even understand what love was. He didn't have a mother to explain it to him.

"Serena, you're beautiful," he said. "You're so....good. I don't deserve it."

"Everyone everywhere deserves love," Serena told him. "I love you and that will never change."

Tom embraced her. She felt so good in his arms. He wanted to keep her there forever. Maybe someday soon, when his feelings were sorted out and his uncle was feeling better, perhaps he could work things out with Serena. He had to at least try. She had done so much for him. She deserved a chance but she would get it when the time came.

"I'll sort things out," said Tom. "Just give me some time."

Serena smiled and nodded. "All right. I hope your uncle has a speedy recovery."

"Thank you," said Tom.

"Well," Serena turned to her things. "I suppose I should be on my way. Owl me if you need anything."

"I will," said Tom, opening the door for her. "Good night."

"Good night, Tom," Serena said to him, kissing him goodbye on the cheek.

Serena stepped outside the house and paused at the doorstep. "I really love what we've done to this place."

"Me too," said Tom, leaning against the door frame. "It was hardly holding together when we started."

"I hope your uncle likes it," Serena said.

"He'd better," Tom muttered. "We worked hard to fix this place up. Either he preferred the house when it was falling apart, or he just didn't know how to keep house."

"Something to teach him when he comes home," said Serena.

"Yeah," said Tom and he waved at her. Serena away from the house, stepped onto the street and disaparted from the spot. Tom stepped back into his house and shut the door behind him. His heart was beating a strange rhythm and he placed his hand over it. Tom shook his head, and noticing the plates and silverware at the table from the meal he had with Serena, he decided to unload the table.

He took his wand from his pocket and with a quick flick, the dishes flew to the sink to be washed. The table was wiped clean. Once he was done with his chore of the dishes, Tom dressed down for bed. It was still early, but he did not know what else to do besides go to bed. However, sleep did not come easy for him. What does a man do when a woman confesses her love to him?

--

Tom stocked his uncle's dresser of new clothes so his room would be ready for his return. The month of his recovery was over, and Tom was able to come fetch his uncle and bring his home. With a bag of new clothes, Tom disaparated to the wizard hospital. He was a few hours early to pick up his uncle, but he couldn't wait. He wanted to see him.

Tom walked up to his uncle's ward and met Healer Thatcher, a healer that was working with Morfin's recovery. Healer Thatcher was a tall healer in his sixties. He wore spectacles and had brown hair.

"Good morning, Healer Thatcher!" said Tom. "I'm here to pick up my uncle. Now I know I'm a few hours early, but it really shouldn't matter, right?"

Healer Thatcher looked at Tom with a slight sad expression. "Mr. Riddle....I was just about to owl you. I'm very sorry..."

"Owl me?" Tom asked. "For what?"
"It's your uncle," said Healer Thatcher. "I'm afraid he's passed away in his sleep last night."

Tom dropped the bag of clothes. "No, that can't be!"

"His heart just gave out," said Healer Thatcher.

"He was getting better," said Tom. "You said he was getting better. I saw him every day and he was talking and everything!"

"I'm very sorry," Healer Thatcher went to touch Tom's shoulder and Tom stepped to the side.

"Don't touch me," Tom hissed. "You're lying. I just saw my uncle yesterday. He was excited about coming home...how could be be dead. I can't accept that!"

Tom walked passed Healer Thatcher and entered his uncle's room. "Uncle Morfin!" He went to the bed where Morfin's body lay. He put his hand on his arm.

"Wake up, Uncle Morfin," said Tom. "I've come to take you home."

Morfin did not stir, breathe or flutter his eyes. Tom nudged him.

"Now uncle, don't play," said Tom firmly. "It's time to come home. Uncle Morfin!"

"Mr. Riddle," said Healer Thatcher. "He's gone...I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do."

"No," Tom turned around. "There was nothing you would do! You just stopped treating him because he was a prisoner and a sociopath! My uncle was far from perfect, I know that but he was all that I had left!"

Tom looked at his uncle's dead body and continued to shout his name. He could not be dead. Not now. He was going to be home in a few hours time. How could he die now? Eventually, Tom had to be escorted out of the room. Tom couldn't bring himself to leave the hospital, so he remained in the waiting room, holding the bag of clothes that his uncle was supposed to wear.

Healer Thatcher approached Tom. "Mr. Riddle...what would you want done with your uncle's body?"

Tom was unable to think about it. Funeral preparations were the last things on his mind. He didn't know how to do it. His mind went to Marvolo. He remembered Morfin talking about how Marvolo died while Morfin was still in prison. Tom had asked Morfin to show him his grave and surprisingly, Morfin accepted.

"I don't know," said Tom, "bury him by Marvolo, my grandfather."

Healer Thatcher walked away. Tom rubbed his hands together, staring at the black ring on his finger. Morfin wanted him to have it. Tom was surprised that Morfin didn't want to be buried with it. After sitting in the waiting room for an hour Tom finally left.

--

There was only a grave side service held for Morfin. Tom didn't feel a need for a funeral. The only ones present was Tom, the pastor and Serena. After Morfin was laid to rest, Serena went with Tom for dinner. Serena offered to let him come to the Rabbit and Moon, but Tom just wanted to be alone. Tom was not in the mood to eat anything He only took sips of tea time to time. Serena sat next to him while holding his hand while Tom talked about his uncle.

"It wasn't the right time," said Tom. "He was so close to leaving the hospital. He was getting better and he said he wanted to come home."

"I'm sorry," said Serena. "But at least he made it out of Azkaban alive. He did not die there."

"You're right," said Tom, rubbing his face "Better to die in a hospital than a prison. I was looking forward to him telling me more about my mother. Now he can't.

Tom looked at the ring on his hand. "This house and this ring, is all I've got left of my mother's family. I'm holding onto it. It's the closest I can be to my mother. I'm the last of the Slytherin line."

Serena did not know what to do or say, so she continued to hold Tom's hand and stroke his hair. It got late in the night and when Tom told her she ought to go home, she promised to stay.

"I'm not going anywhere, Tom," she insisted. "I'm staying here with you. You need me. Why don't you go and get some sleep, Tom?"

Tom sighed and stood up. "I'll try but I don't think I'll be able to sleep. I suppose if you want too, you can take my uncle's room. He won't be using it anymore."

--

Serena wanted to stay with Tom, but he insisted that she went to work. "Your students need you more than me."

"You sure you'll be all right?" Serena asked for the thirtieth time.

"Yes," Tom said for the same amount of times. "Serena, I just want to be alone."

Serena kissed Tom's cheek and left the house. While Serena was gone, Tom started to write book ideas. Having his first book published, it made him want to keep writing. He wondered if he should write about his family, a biography of Salazar Slytherin or perhaps a guide to speaking Parseltongue. While he was writing, he heard the noise of horse hooves. Tom stopped writing immediately and went outside. He knew whose horse that was. It was his father's. He memorized the sound. His father rode by the house almost every day since Tom fixed it. He saw him on a chestnut or a white stallion. Tom knew that his father was debating whether or not to come speak to him. Tom didn't care if he ever heard from his father. He was expecting his uncle to come home. Uniting with his father did not matter to him. Now the situation changed. Tom lost his mother, his maternal grandfather and uncle. He only had his father and paternal grandparents left. He hated to be with them, to try to turn to muggles of all people. But Tom wanted his father to know more. His father could not hide from the truth anymore. Tom ran down the porch, through the front yard and into the street.

The chestnut Riddle Sr. was riding neighed loudly and rose up on its hind legs in surprise. Tom Riddle Sr. swore, pulling on the reigns in surprise.

"Whoa boy...easy!" he said to his horse. "Dammit, what do you want?" he bellowed at his son, then gasped when he realized who he was speaking too.

"Just going to ride on by without speaking to me?" Tom demanded. "How long are you going to pretend that I don't exist? Have you even read my book, Father?"

"I..." Tom Riddle Sr. gasped. "You..."

Tom grabbed the reigns hard, almost pulling the bit right out of the horse's mouth as he glared up at the man that made him an orphan.

"Ironic for me to meet you on your horse," said Tom. "Same way my mother met you twenty-one years ago. I want to talk to you but I'm not going to use a potion. I'm going to pull you right off your high horse."

Tom did just as he said, literally and metaphorically. He grabbed his father by the collar and pulled him off the horse. He slapped the horse on the rear and it ran off.

"What are you going to do?" Tom Riddle Sr. asked. "Are you...?"

"Going to kill you?" Tom demanded, turning around and grinning. "Oh, trust me, when I was sitting in prison, I thought about that many times. But I'm not going to kill you. If I kill you, you won't know the hell I'm going through. I'm not letting you off that easy—you don't deserve it." He turned around and continued to pull him to the house.

"The man that was living here before," said Tom Sr. "You're uncle, is he here?"

"No," said Tom. "He's dead. You won't have to worry about him hexing you anymore."

"Dead?"

"That's right," said Tom. "He was supposed to come home yesterday, but he died. Now this house is all I've got left."

Tom led him into the house and made him sit down. "Have a drink with me?" Tom asked.

Tom Sr. looked his son in confusion. "What?"

Tom pointed at the table and conjured several drinks along with sandwiches. Tom sat down, smiling. "We're going to sit here and pretend to be the son and father we're not. For the fifteen years I spent in that orphanage, all I wanted was a mother and a father to tell me who I was. I had to find out my identity the hard way and I wound up in prison. As much as I hate you for leaving my mother, I know of no one else that knew her. So...what's your pleasure, Dad?"

Tom's father sighed, realizing he wasn't getting out of the situation. He somehow knew that sooner or later that Tom Jr. would notice him and confront. him sooner or later.

"Just give me a beer."

At first, their lunch was awkward. Neither spoke for some time. Tom Jr. was pleased enough watching his father look uncomfortable in his house. Tom Sr. paused from eating a sandwich.

"I read your book," he said. "I'm impressed."

"You did?" Tom asked. "Or you just saying that to to break the silence?"

"I really read it," Tom Sr. told him. "I liked it. I especially liked the bit about how you pushed yourself through school, getting good grades, becoming prefect and all on your own. I was like that."

"You were?"

"Yes," said Tom Sr. "I was the smartest boy in school. I could've gone on to be an inventor or something. But I didn't have to. I already have knife money as a squire's son. Anyway, I enjoyed the book. I would suggest it to some of my colleagues, but I don't know how they would feel about magic. I think the magic people around here are trying to stay quiet about their existence."

"We are," Tom said. "We don't want to bring attention to ourselves. We want to keep ourselves secret so that we can be safe, and not use magic to solve muggles' problems."

"Muggles?"

"People like you," said Tom. "People that don't use magic."

"I find it a derogatory," said Tom Sr.

"It probably is," said Tom. "But that's the term we've used all this time."

"I do like what you've done with this place," said Tom Sr, looking around. "It's not how I remember it. I'd be willing to buy it."

His son looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Oh, so now that my house looks like it's worth something, you want to take it from me? Take what is left of my mother's family?"

"No!" Tom Sr. exclaimed. "That is not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?" Tom Jr. demanded.

Tom Sr. heaved a sigh. "Decades ago, no one would want to come here, let alone live here. I wanted to take it down but I couldn't. Now, in just a week, you transformed this eyesore into one of the best small houses I've ever seen in my life. If you weren't living here, I'd want to buy it and rent it out. But the house does not belong to me. It belongs to you."

"It does," said Tom Jr. "And I'm not giving it up."

There was a long pause as Tom Jr. looked at his fingers. He looked back up at his father. "Do you remember her at all, my mother?"

Tom Sr. nodded. "You're right, I did first meet her on my horse. It was hot....a snake scared my horse and she gave a glass of water. Then something strange happened. I'm sure I loved her, but I didn't know why. I felt something I never felt before. I smelt fine wine and chocolate, and other things I liked."

"That was the effect of the love potion," Tom explained to his father. "You don't feel real love so it masks it but I think my mother was really in lvoe with you."

"Shere probably was," Tom Riddle Sr. muttered. "But she still lied to me." Tom's father stood to his feet. "Listen, thank you for the meal but I think our father and son moment is over."

"Yeah," said Tom Jr., "I guess it is."

Tom Sr. went to the door and looked back at him. "Look, I know what I did was wrong. Leaving your mother, condeming her to death and you growing up in an orphanage. I was a fool. I'm sure you've heard what the people in the village said about me."

"You and your parents," said Tom Jr. "Rude, rich and snobbish. I intend to change that, because I don't want to end up like you lot."

"And I don't want to stay that way either," said Tom Sr. "I need to change my attitude. I'm sorry."

"I think an apology like that is not enough," said Tom Jr. "You really want my forgiveness, you'd have to do better than that. You can go now. I have some work to do."

"Another book?" His father questioned.

"I have some ideas," Tom Jr. replied.

"Well, when your new book comes out," said his father. "Send me a copy."

"I'll do that," said Tom Jr. "Bye, Father."

"Bye...son."

Tom Sr. stepped out of the house and his son shut the door after him. When Tom Riddle Sr. walked out on his wife and unborn child, he thought that was the end of it. He was wrong and he knew it. He had married a witch and fathered a wizard. His son was right. He could not run from the truth.

TO BE CONCLUDED

Yes, I lied! I thought this would be the last chapter, but it ended up being longer than I expected. There will be ONE final chapter.