"You, you have no traceable motive... Which is why you were so hard to see. You were just curious what I would do. Someone like me. Someone who thinks how I think."
Tom cursed. He cursed again and again and again.
He yelled, and slammed at the walls with open palms.
She was leaving him. She couldn't, but she was.
Tom felt angry and upset. There were emotions inside him he couldn't distinguish.
He paced from one side of the house to the other, he ran up the stairs and looked through her things and ran back down and looked through his office.
He didn't know what he was looking for, he didn't see anything.
But he felt many things.
There was a swelling ball of anger in the pit of his stomach, a heavy feeling in his heart.
She was going to know.
Tom couldn't remember the last time he felt this way.
It could have been when his mother passed.
When his therapist looked him straight in the eye and asked him, "Tom.. Do you know what happened to your mother?"
"She died," he had said, his voice was very carefully made out to sound like it was shaking.
"Who killed her Tom?" his therapist had sounded so sure of something.
It made Tom's stomach sink.
Tom heard Hermione pull into the driveway and he froze.
What was he going to do?
Act indifferent? Play the jealous insecure lover?
He couldn't decide. He knew too little.
He cursed again and soon after heard the door open. He couldn't move, couldn't think, coulnd't figure anything out.
He heard her walking towards his office. She was pulled to him, she knew where he was. The thought calmed him.
This was all a bump in the road, Hermione and him were meant to be together.
Nobody was coming in between them, especially not two little boys with too much time on their hands.
"We need to talk," Hermione looked stern.
He adored her.
Tom nodded, and forced himself to move. He sat down, though he knew he looked stiff. He wasn't the usual cool and collective man.
"What happened to your mom?"
Tom opened his mouth and no words came out.
"You never talk about her."
"Why would I talk about her?" Tom hated talking about her, hated talking about what happened. He couldn't even tell the truth from the lies apart anymore, and talking about it was a cruel reminder.
"She was your mother Tom."
"She was as best of a mother as she could be. The days she could get herself out of bed. When my father left her, she was devastated. She stayed devastated, she couldn't pick herself up from it. I didn't grow up with a father Hermione, I barely grew up with a mother."
Hermione looked upset. Sad even.
"Why did you change your name? Why did you never tell me about it?"
Tom wanted to shout again. Where had the weasel even gotten the information from.
"Hermione," he began, there was so much anger inside him, so much emotions. Was sadness one of them? "Don't you remember school, you have the name of a Shakespeare character. You should understand at some level. I hated my name." He paused and felt the emotions threatening to spill from his eyes.
Was he crying?
"I hated my childhood. Hated every second of it. Hated my adolescence. Hated everyone who made fun of my name, of my clothes, everyone who accused me of killing my own mother."
He stood up, he couldn't be the one crying.
He wiped his eyes and breathed in, trying to collect himself.
It was like every emotion he ever tried to hide was erupting out of him.
"I'm not the same person I was when I was younger. That name just brings.. Bad memories Hermione."
Hermione stood up too, she had never seen him so upset. So genuinely upset.
He had been angry, or pleading or intense.
But today he looked, human.
He looked as devastated as she felt.
Confused and sad and overwhelmed.
She was almost too scared to ask, "Why did they think you killed your mom Tom?"
"They didn't know her. They didn't know me. They thought she was happy, and they thought I was … odd. I didn't talk a lot or have many friends," Tom hated that he had to say that to her. "There were some nasty boys in my grade that began rumors just to laugh at me some more, and they got out of hand."
Hermione didn't want to be led off track.
"Why was it so easy for you to accept Ginny's death then? Her murder?"
Tom shouted then.
It was an exasperated sound, he was tired of it.
"I'm telling you about something I haven't spoken about in years. Something very hard for me to even think about. Up until her death, my mother was all I had. And from one day to the next she took that from me." Tears welled up in Tom's eyes again. He wasn't sure if it was a show or not. "Do you know why it wasn't hard for me to accept Ginny's death? It's because people die Hermione. Good and bad, and from a very young age I learned that. I had to accept it, and if I could accept it when it happened to my mother, Ginny, who meant close to nothing to me, isn't going to be very hard for me to deal with."
With that, Tom left.
He wanted to be alone but he wanted Hermione to need him, to beg for his forgiveness.
How cruel and selfish had she been.
"'She was compelled to take [a] life so she could take her own back.'
'How will you take your life back?'
'I'd like to resume my therapy.'"
Hermione wasn't sure how she convinced Ron and Harry to come back.
She had Tom aboard almost instantly. He had agreed to be her friend, to be more understanding and helpful.
She couldn't be alone during all of this. She could keep secrets but she didn't have to isolate herself.
It had felt like a new beginning since the day Tom opened up to her. She had followed him out when he stormed out of the room like an overdramatic teenager. Hermione thought she'd let it pass since he didn't have long to act very rebellious during his adolescence.
He said very personal things to her, things she hadn't expected to hear, things she didn't know how to respond to.
And in the end Tom seemed pleased at her just being there to listen to him.
Except that same day, Ron called and asked if she needed a place to stay after the break up.
It hadn't been easy to convince Ron that he had been wrong. Too paranoid, but on the right track.
Hermione really didn't know a lot about Tom, and she should have asked more questions.
She should have tried to connect with him on many levels.
Now, she felt like she knew Tom better than anyone and he knew her.
But her friends were a big part of her life, and he had to be on good terms with them if he wanted her to be happy.
It all felt like a good idea, even when they were all sitting in the dining room with Tom.
The boys looked uncomfortable, even Tom, with his constant glaces at Hermione, he seemed to be asking, "What do I do now?"
"The soup is great," Harry was the first to speak once the food was served.
"I made it, I had to pry Tom out of the kitchen, though he actually refused to let me use any of his imported meats."
Tom had the sense to look embarrassed. "I only said, if you could identify what they were and what they should be used for, then you were free to use them."
"Then he offered a trip to the supermarket."
Harry forced a smile. He and Ron had promised to be on their best behaviors and after all it was only the beginning.
The entire night couldn't possibly be entirely made up of small talk.
As the time went by, though no one expected it to, the group seemed to be getting along.
They had to go through Hermione obviously trying too hard to keep peace, Ron's snide remarks and questioning, and Harry's awkward ice breakers, but Riddle kept his cool.
He wasn't overly charming, he threw a little awkwardness in there, and soon they all seemed to finally let their guard down.
By the end of the night, Ron and Harry had agreed to be the two witnesses at their wedding day.
Everything seemed to be going perfect. They would all get along and be happy with Hermione together.
It wasn't enough for Tom.
"You and I are part of his design. He wanted you to be free."
Remus didn't like talking about his job outside of work.
But he felt like he owed Harry an apology.
"How did it happen?" Harry felt anger beyond belief.
"He hasn't changed his story since he was arrested. He insists on his innocence. We had a doctor speak with him, his lawyers are trying to plead insanity-"
"That's not what I'm asking," Harry interrupted, then seemed to try to take his tone down a notch,correcting himself for being rude with Remus. "How did he get away?"
"Nobody was really taking him as a threat, Harry. It's not a very good excuse, but he'd been cooperating until then."
"He couldn't have gotten very far then," Harry said.
"I don't think so either, we have our best guys on it."
"Good," Harry tried to control his breathing.
"There's just one thing."
Remus looked more ashamed than when he began.
God, Harry couldn't take much more.
"There was a list found in his cell."
"A list?"
"It had the womens names, the ones he's been accused of killing.." Remus voice grew softer. "There's the name of the officer who arrested him, a guard he frequented often during his weeks detained, and the name of the therapist who called in the tip that helped lead to his arrest."
Harry's blood ran cold.
"Riddle?" he dared not believe it.
Remus only nodded solemnly. "Of course, during the time we find him, we're advising the people on this list to lay low."