Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise. I do own my right to fantasize. See what I did there?
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"With all due respect Headmaster, I do not see how killing someone would result to killing millions."
"In your world Miss Granger, a politician's death can result to killing millions." The headmaster answered, combing his beard lightly.
"Yes, but there should be an association of some sort. I agree that a politician's death can affect national security. However, logically speaking, killing Riddle before he becomes Voldemort would make his associations nonexistent."
"Well then, logically speaking, do you believe that his associations exist without him?" Dumbledore asks patiently.
"Well, yes, of course they will exist. But they will no longer be associated with him." I answer.
"How do you know they exist if they are yet to be born?" He counters.
I scoffed but regard his query, recalling our early philosophical conversation on existence.
"They will exist, when they can make decisions." I automatically answered.
"Therefore, logically, our decisions prove our existence. Consequently, our capacity to decide controls our fate." He replied.
"If Tom Riddle's capacity to decide his fate is taken away, his existence is questioned. But his existence cannot be questioned, because existing is inevitable for anyone who is born." I conclude for the headmaster.
"If one is fated to be born, one is fated to exist. And to severe the fate of Tom Riddle, will question the existence of those who he is supposed to associate with." Dumbledore concludes, further explaining the abstract reason on why the universe would intervene with the lives of mortals.
Despite the vague reasoning of such equally vague The complexities of the logic behind existence is sound.
"But Sir, I strongly believe that his associations can exist without him. We were born alone, and in the end with die alone. That is our fate. Our associations mean nothing." I insist out of frustration, out of my desperate adolescent mind.
After a few minutes of stale silence, he regards me empathetically by sitting across from me.
"You know very well that even though we were born alone, we would not exist without the decisions of others. We are fated to be born out of fate." He said, causing my eyes to twitch involuntarily.
"Ouroboros." I simply replied.
"Ouroboros." He repeats the word solemnly.
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"Mina, could you tell Tom to gut out the recent kills he got with the boys? If they stay out in the open longer, they're going to rot." Mrs. McAllister tells me, causing me to stiffen from my location.
"Can't Joseph talk to Tom instead?" I answer, taking my time washing the dishes so that the aging nurse would think I am too preoccupied.
Joseph is Tom's current bunk mate at the Boys quarters. Ever since Paul left after getting adopted, Tom most likely talks to Joseph.
"You know that both Tom and Joseph have their heads in the clouds. And you are the only girl that Tom listens to these days. Be a dear and do what I say." The portly red head insists as she cradles little Margaret in her arms.
Not wanting to skip dinner due to disobedience, I rinse a few more dishes and reluctantly made my way to finding Riddle.
It has been a year since I had a proper conversation with Tom.
Ever since that day, he chose to keep his distance. As much as I wanted our former familiarities to return, I need to be careful. Any strong emotions from him can potentially cause accidental magic. The broken charm I gave him cannot handle another emotional breakdown.
The next day after our last proper conversation, his demeanor changed overnight.
He became cool and calm, much to my relief.
But his calmness is cold and emotionless. He was always a quiet child, but his quietness is completely different. His silence used to say a thousand words, but now his silence expresses completely nothing.
He is acting more normal, attending classes, and having meals, but he is more muted and ghost like. He just blends in the background like a wallflower. A black and white wallflower.
He spends most days like a machine, constant with a routine that would sustain a shell of his old self. There are some days when his silence hint anger and frustration, and then there are days when his silence is listless and void of anything but life.
He would say very few words and interact with very few people. He doesn't like anyone touching him, especially me.
I tried to replace the charm with a new set of onyx stones on his last birthday as a present, but he refused my gift because that would require him to stay more than a minute with my presence.
He does not want me near him at all. Forcing a new charm on him only resulted in multiple fumbling failures. I was persistent however, and eventually my persistence resulted in a very cold shoulder.
Last week, I purposefully fell from a flight of stairs which should have resulted in tackling Tom and providing an opportunity to replace his broken charm. But instead of falling on him, he managed to keep me from falling by holding my arms on my sides and then steadying my feet on a stair. He held my arms so tight to keep me from toppling him, so much so that my arms bruised. He was that determined. He was that serious. And he did not appreciate me not taking his seriousness for granted. When he kept me from falling, he let my arms go like he held something scalding. He was agitated, angry. And without warning, the small chandelier that lit the entrance of St. Agatha shattered nearby. I heard screams near the entrance, causing me to shiver. We were only a few feet from the entrance. From my position, I saw the ordeal above a very livid Riddle.
The shattering chandelier did not seriously hurt anyone, but two orphans got caught in the aftermath. Rudolph had to get a stitch on his forehead and Amanda got minor cuts on her legs. Merida tended to them while muttering that the chandelier was a century old. It was bound to happen.
But I knew better. That small chandelier would have had another one hundred years if Tom did not cause it to combust with accidental magic.
While Merida was fussing over Rudolph and Amanda, I had to face Tom who gave me a glare that left me speechless.
He was angry. Tom was never angry.
He made his hands into fists and his breathing sharpened. He looked like he was going to pick a fight. And he was going to pick a fight with me.
But he didn't. Instead, he left me without a word and ignored the recent aftermath of his magical capabilities.
After that incident, I became more careful and less intrusive. Bothering him was causing his emotions to be unstable. He needed a break from me.
And to be honest, I also needed a break. I don't know where to go from here. I am at a stale mate.
But then Merida decides to unknowingly intervene by requiring me to talk to Riddle, after days of ignoring each other.
And so here I am, fetching the boy who is avoiding me like the plague.
Usually on a Saturday morning, Tom would be out hunting or cleaning his traps on the outskirts of the forest behind the orphanage. And since he already has fresh kills, he is cleaning his traps.
Reaching the border of the forest, I find Riddle sitting on his stool, washing his bloody metal traps with a soaped cloth and a bucket of water.
I am not an enthusiastic fan of his new method of hunting animals. He used to catch fish and small birds with simple materials.
But now he prefers to hunt rabbits and the occasional fox. I fear that next summer, he might start hunting even bigger game like deer or bears.
He looks so serene for someone who recently killed animals, meticulously cleaning pieces of one of his traps.
For once, I am glad that I get to disturb his concentration.
"Tom." I simply called out. He doesn't look away from his trap.
"Tom." I called out again, but he didn't answer.
"I heard you the first time." He finally answers, bringing his trap down and standing from his position.
Warily, I walk towards him until I am only a few feet away.
"Mrs. McAllister wants you to clean your recent kills back in the kitchen, before they start to turn." I informed him.
He looks at me with a frown but nods and then chooses to sit back at his stool to clean his trap.
It looks like he only needed to clean one more trap. He intends to clean his traps before going to St. Agatha. He doesn't want to go back with me.
Thinking that he got the message, it would be best just leave him alone. But just as I was about to go, he muttered something.
"What did you say?" I asked, wanting him to speak louder.
"I said, how are your arms?" He says without looking at me.
I blink my eyes out of confusion, and then I look at my arms.
"They're fine I guess..." I answered without thinking, and then I realized that he was talking about the bruises he made on his last magical accident.
"But if you want, you can take a closer look." I offer, showing my arms.
He focuses on cleaning his trap, ignoring me again.
I then turned to walk away, but something grabbed my hand. I look down to find Tom's hand on mine.
Staring at our entwined hands, he then takes his hand back. Regretting his decision.
"Sorry, my hand still has some blood on it." He apologizes, but I could tell he wasn't remorseful.
"It's alright." I assure, looking at my hand that is dripping with blood.
"I'm on my way to the river to wash up, you can clean your hand there." Tom suggests as he tosses the dirty water from his bucket and walks towards the direction of the river where we used to bathe in the summer months.
Without a word, I followed him towards the river. The orphanage is much closer than the direction of the river, we could wash up at St. Agatha.
But for some odd reason, he decides to wash up at the river instead. The farther we are from the orphanage, the more his gait is confident. He moves carefully, and with purpose. He appears to have grown an inch taller, towering in front of me and catching the rare autumn sun. His silky black hair is brushed by the cool wind from the north. The terrain started to get a bit rockier. He stops, only to reach out to me and hold my already bloodied hand as we make our way.
When we reach the riverbank, he lets go of my hand and settles at a corner.
The sound of the river drowns the awkwardness between us.
As I watch the river's waters flow between my fingers, I observe the blood disappear into nothing.
I waited while he washed his hands. And just like the blood that was in mine, it did not take long for the blood from his hands to disappear as well. He then stands properly and then takes out a small object from his side pocket.
He walks and stops in front of me, and then takes my right hand. He puts the object on the palm of my hand. The object is a beautiful tiger eye gemstone.
"I bought it from a gypsy who was passing by a few weeks ago. I figure you would like a gemstone color other than black." He explains.
"Why are you giving me this?" I ask in awe, dazzled by how the stone reflects the rays of the sun.
"Happy Birthday." He tells me.
Oh, that's right. Today is my birthday.
He started saying something else, but I am too overwhelmed to pay attention.
"Say that again?" I ask.
"Your eyes. The gemstone reminds me of the color of your eyes. That's why I picked that one." He explains.
"Thank you. It's beautiful." I say, smiling while I admire the small round stone. My vision started to blur and then I could not control my tears from falling.
I wipe my tears furiously, not wanting to ruin the moment. But I couldn't stop crying. I try to give an explanation or reassurance, but the words are stuck on my throat.
He smiles sadly. Reluctantly shifting closer to me.
"I'm sorry that I have been so distant Mina. I can't tell you what I'm going through, but..I promise I will get better." Tom assures, looking at me with emotions I haven't seen for a long time.
"I'm here...I won't go anywhere. I'll always be with you." I tell him, wiping my tears.
I reached out for his face, carefully rubbing my thumb on his cheek. At first, he looks unresponsive, but his detached face leans slightly on my palm.
He offers a small smile. A fake one, but a smile, nonetheless.
I then automatically kiss him on the cheek without thinking, a natural supporting gesture that we used to do. But as soon as my lips touched the skin on his face, his whole body started to react.
I could that he is going to shut down if I overwhelm him too much. If I touch him unnecessarily, he will return to his state of being numb. His stance becomes tense, he starts to take a few steps back. But before he could get away, I held on to the sleeve of his sweater and pulled him towards me, stealing a hug. I prayed to Merlin that he wouldn't push me away. He didn't. But he started to shiver uncontrollably. I looked up to see that his face was pale. He looks like he is drowning, suffocating from my presence.
I know that he wouldn't want to be this close to me, not after what happened months ago. But I refuse to give up this chance of finally getting us back to what we were, of regaining a relationship with him. Whether we could be like before, or if we must be something else. It doesn't matter to me.
This is a chance. A rare and fleeting one. And I will do everything I can, not to take this chance for granted.
I must keep the future at the far corners of my mind, focus on what we simply are at this moment. Because if I don't make this right, there is no future. Not for the people I love, not for me. Not for either of us.
I will get him back. I must. I must get him back.
With my other hand, I hold on to his neck and pull him closer. This time, I won't hesitate. I won't have second thoughts.
I lower my eyelids and dart my eyes on his trembling lips. He starts hyperventilating. I massage his neck gently, coaxing him to be close enough for me to finally redeem myself.
"M-mina..please don't." He pleads, trying his best to resist.
"Don't what?" I question, tugging on his aged wool sweater, raking my fingers playfully on his skin.
He inhales sharply, losing more of his composure.
"What we…What I did back then..it was a mistake. I was forcing myself to you, using you to..to forget." He says, telling his words to himself, trying to reason himself out of the situation.
"I was wrong Mina…this is wrong." He steels himself, building his walls again, taking my hands away from him.
But I won't let him. I won't allow him to go back to being cold and unresponsive.
I move forward and take a fistful of his sweater, reaching to pull his neck and then kissing him on the lips.
At first, he resisted, keeping his mouth closed and trying to wrench himself out of my hold. He tries to use his weight to pull away, but I surround my legs on his waist and used his movements against him. He gasps, surprised by my bold actions, my sudden movements forced him to hold on to the back of my legs so that neither of us would fall. Just as he was about to condemn me for my brazenness, I pull his face towards me and reduce his protests to breathlessness by kissing him properly, his failing attempts to speak only provided me the opportunity to deepen the kiss by pushing my tongue into his mouth. Eventually his words became incoherent groaning and sighs, giving in to my ministrations.
"I won't ask you about what kept you away from me. I won't ask what keeps you from confiding to me..But Tom…I missed you. I still miss you." I told him, bringing him so close that I could feel his short breathing.
So close that I can feel his heart thundering from his chest.
"Mina…I can't..I don't deserve..." He says, resting his forehead on mine. I could feel tears falling from his face. He grits his teeth, preventing himself from expressing more of himself.
He weakly tries to push me away, pushing my shoulders away from him. But I take his hands and rest them on my hips, encouraging him to hold me.
His resolve is starting to break. All he needs is a little push. Just a little more.
"Don't you miss me, Tom?" I ask him, kissing the corner of his lips softly.
"Mina..I missed you so much..you have no idea how much I miss you." He confides, closing his eyes and tightening his hands on my torso briefly before his right hand then rests on my back, pushing me closer to him.
"But I... I can't treat you the same. I've changed. I'm not the same person that you once knew. I want more from you, more than what you should give me." Tom says, gently kissing my neck.
I lightly comb and pull through the hair at the back of his neck, he responds with a soft whimper, raising his head from my neck to feel my fingers tangling on to his raven locks of hair.
"Tom, what do you want from me?" I ask softly, finally bringing my lips to rest on his. I light brush my tongue with his and bite his lip playfully.
At this point, he opens his eyes, and he expresses what I can only describe as uncontrollable desire.
His red eyes that reflected both life and death, now reflects a relentless want to possess. To dominate.
His eyes are so bright and rich like blood, full of life and passionate resolve.
He settles his hands on my hips and tightens his grip, he then pushes me toward him.
And then I feel him. I feel how hard he is. I feel his need press on me. He pushes himself on me, once and then twice, making sure I understand.
"Mina..I want know now everything about you.." He says, pushing himself on me and then palming my breast on top of my dress.
"I want know how you inside.." He says huskily, pushing himself while pressing above my intimate area.
"I want know how you taste.." He says before kissing me deeply, circling his tongue with mine.
"I want to know the sounds you make when I am inside you…" He confides with a hoarse voice, biting my neck to make me gasp.
"I want you..I want everything about you..but I can't..I can't lose you. You mean too much to me..You're everything." He says, stopping his prodding and making me look at his face without any distractions.
"I can't lose you Mina..If I lose you..I won't make it. My life..My life ends without you..So please…please..I beg you" He gulps, drinking an invisible liquid that keeps him from saying his next words."If you don't want me the same as I want you…run. Leave me here..I'm going to be okay. I will still be with you always..but don't lie that you want me. Don't tease me like this..If you do, I'm going to break. I swear..I'll break." He states with a fragile voice.
I take deep breaths and take his words seriously, and then with shaking fingers I take his chin.
"Tom..look at me." I told him. I wait until his desperation is quelled by really looking back at me with those dark red pupils that glimmer like fine red wine.
"Everything that I am..I want to give to you. I want everything you are and everything you will be. I'm yours, Tom." I tell him soothingly, watching as his emotions unravel before me.
"And even after you tell me everything about you..even if you tell me that side of you that made you completely different..I will still want you, so long as you want me." I express, kissing him so deeply that he moans.
"How much do you want me, Tom?..please..show me how much you want me." I say, holding him beneath my thighs and then squeezing slowly.
And finally, finally all his walls are down.
His hesitations dissipate, replaced with what I can only describe as obsession. All that remains is his raw need to make me his.
He picks me up and carries me swiftly to a covered isolated corner in the woods and lays me down beneath him. He takes off his shirt, and then his trousers. Methodically, he unbuttons my dress.
As he unbuttons my dress, I watch as he slowly uncovers my breasts and then pull my underwear down without hesitation. Without even comprehending what his actions are telling me.
His actions are telling me that he has done this before..his actions are telling me that he did this enough to be comfortable with undressing a woman.
Here I am, shivering from my anticipation of inexperience compared to what he obviously has..compared to what he obviously experienced before.
Whereas I on the other hand, am still a virgin.
I start to have shortness of breath, silently panicking.
He notices this, my show of fear and anxiety. He lowers himself and gazes at me with concern.
Before he starts to have second thoughts, I take his chin and kiss him confidently, pretending to be so sure that I won't have regrets.
He sighs in relief, relaxing his gait. He brings my arms above my head with one hand and holds them there as he tries to distract me with kisses that are so sublime, every flick of his tongue on mine causes me to moan. His other hand massages one of my breasts momentarily before gradually reaching his fingers on my stomach, and then my waist. He presses circles on my hip with his thumb, causing me to keen. He lowers his hand even further, pulling away my skirt and feeling one of my legs and then reaching my thighs. He presses one finger into me, carefully and slowly entering like a fog surrounding the sea. I whimper and bite my lip, adrift and lost. I feel blinded with uncertainty.
"It's alright..I'm here..it will hurt..but only for a moment. I'll make it up to you..relax..just let go.." He says, seeing the uncertainty in my eyes. "I'm here Mina…I've got you." He says comfortingly, kissing me on the lips briefly before returning to his objective of making me less anxious, less afraid of the aftermath that lies ahead. He curls his finger inside me slightly, and then lowers his finger even further until he reaches a barrier that keeps him from completely taking what he wants. A barrier that ensures that we can stop this before we can become anything beyond who we were.
A barrier that prevents me from completely giving myself to him.
He curls his finger and with one swift tug, breaks the barrier between us.
Feeling an intense sharp pain, my back instantly curved out of agony. In this moment I feel weaknesses, completely dependent on him to ease my discomfort. His hands play me like a violin, dulling the ache to need. He ebbed and rubbed, massaging me until I was vulnerable to his touch. The penetration was painful but fleeting. I feel hot liquid drip. The smell was metallic, telling me that I bled. The metallic liquid gradually mixes with more vicious liquid that smells sweet and addicting.
Without warning, he lowers his head and starts lapping the liquids that are coming out of me. I try to prevent him from continuing, but he widens his space between my legs, licking me clean. He consumes me with his tongue, a muscle that continued to milk me until I started to tremble uncontrollably. The trembling was lasting and made me helpless as he watched me quivering. His lustful eyes gazing at his work with determination to get more. More of me. He fingers me again, faster this time. So fast that I could hardly breathe. As he assaulted me with one and then two fingers, he sucks and bite my nipples, kneading the breast that is not preoccupied with his mouth.
Before I could even recover from his onslaught, he started to position himself. His upper torso hovers above me, seething with heat. He leans forward and rests his forehead on mine. Both overwhelmed, we close our eyes and choose to pause and regulate our breathing, savor each other's presence. After the brief impasse, I opened my eyes to find him looking desperate for a need that I can only sate.
He stares at me with desire. His desire shows brilliantly with his eyes, flickering like rubies. He looks at me completely enamored and trusting. This boy…this man..would die for me, kill for me, to be where he is now. To be entangled with me, together in union. Together in this life, in this shared fate that we have both decided.
This fate of choosing to exist with each other.
He enters me slowly, waiting for me to adjust as he gradually introduces himself to my small frame. I clawed into his back, feeling so full and penetrated when he was able to enter me completely. He waits for me to be comfortable, kissing me as I weep from the dull pain that is yet to be combined with what I hope would be more delicious than my previous orgasms. Eventually, he moves slowly, watching as my pain is replaced with a pure intense feeling of complete adoration.
"You're so beautiful Mina…a perfect work of art..pure..spotless...so perfect…perfect.." He says in between his momentum. He pushes faster, deeper. Bringing one of my legs to rest on his shoulder, I feel him more. I feel him to the point that could not catch my breath fast enough for his next thrust to settle. He growls, stabbing me with his objective to make him completely and utterly permanent to me.
"Just perfect..and mine." He tells me like a vow, handling me so rough and hard. He enters deep and sudden, causing shocks of electricity that I can feel in my bones.
"Yours.. Only yours.." I assures weakly before I started to tremble uncontrollably once again, thoroughly drained by his still constant and thirsty need.
My eyes roll upwards, savoring the long intense mini orgasms that are constant as he reaches his own high. He chases his need by abusing my body so exquisitely, causing me to maintain my pleasure as his thrusts become erratic and then slow but probing.
Eventually, he groaned and gave himself to me completely.
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"Miss Granger, did you know that Adolf Hitler wanted to become an artist? He was a painter, before he became a dictator in the muggle realm." Dumbledore avidly said, educating me on my own muggle history.
I sigh deeply and tightly close my eyes for a moment.
"I'm sure that every muggle who knows that fact, would wonder what the world could have been if that man chose to continue his painting instead of trying to conquer the world." He says nostalgically, as if he witnessed that part of history himself.
I nodded slowly, painfully. I try to relax my body in my seat and surrender to the minute silence that should happen after such manipulative mention of what could happen if I chose not to participate in the headmaster's proposal.
It was cruel for Dumbledore to describe the consequence of my reluctance by mentioning the similarities of Hitler and Riddle.
But the old conniving man was right.
If Hitler decided to be a painter instead of causing World War II, millions of lives would have been spared and the world could have been completely different.
"If I prevent Riddle from being the monster that he becomes, what will I do then? Do I have a chance to go back to my time?" I ask the headmaster, tired of arguing about the abstract justice required by an incomprehensible identity known as fate.
I was never a believer of science. Science is flawed, just as mankind is imperfect.
But Logic however, logic is something I always believed in. Logic tells me that fate is inconsolable.
Fate exists. Fate is inevitable, that is the logic of fate.
But adding variables can change the fate of individuals involved. That is all I can salvage from the conversation. That is all I need to know.
My real problem was never fate.
My real problem was being alone with a man who could easily ruin the lives of millions. And I am afraid, afraid to be without an ally to the evil that I must endure.
I am afraid of making a mistake that could result to ending the lives of millions.
I am afraid I cannot do the task.
I am afraid of failure.
I am terrified of what he could be.
"You cannot go back to your time Miss Granger. You must watch him as he takes his last breath. You need to make sure that he never causes fear to someone other than yourself." Dumbledore replies.
