History Repeats

July 5, 1944

Rose had been so caught up in her shock that she had forgotten to introduce Tom. Thankfully, instead of waiting for her to come to her senses, he stuck out his hand and introduced himself: "Tom Riddle," she heard him say.

"Emerson Cantrell." Her grandfather shook his hand in return and gave him a friendly smile. "Please, come in."

They stepped inside the house, which was quite different from the one she remembered him living in before with her grandmother. It was much smaller and not nearly as tidy. A rather disturbing thought crossed her mind: did he live without a house-elf? Where was the evidence of his wealth?

He gestured to the couch and said, "Have a seat. I'll ask Vivian to put on some tea."

At first Rose felt a bit relieved, thinking that Vivian was his house-elf's name. But then she realized, along with a sinking feeling, that he was actually referring to the woman he had remarried after her grandmother had passed away. The same woman that had stolen him away from her family.

But that wasn't really how it went, was it? She knew so, even though it was easier to believe that it hadn't been her grandfather's choice. It was painful to feel like he consciously abandoned her and her mother by choosing this woman over them. Even given this fact, Rose couldn't even be angry with him about it: if the situation between her parents and Tom didn't improve by the time they graduated from Hogwarts, she would be making the same choice her grandfather had.

"Are you alright?" Tom placed his hand on the small of her back and whispered as Emerson left the room. Rosemary nodded and gave him a small smile before they took a seat next to each other on the couch.

Her grandfather reentered the room shortly after and settled into a nearby armchair. He shook his head slightly before saying "I can't believe how much you've grown. You're a young lady now…Wait a moment. Today is the fifth of July, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"Well, then happy birthday, my darling. That makes you…seventeen, yes? Seventeen…" There was a trace of sadness and regret in his voice as he repeated her age out loud.

It made her tear up a bit to think about the years that had gone by in his absence. Although, she really had no desire to dwell on it and break down in front of everyone, so she fought away her tears and changed the subject: "You were quite difficult to find, you know; I asked everyone I ran into if they knew of you. I even stopped by your old house, thinking you may still live there."

"I sold it a few years ago," he explained. "And, admittedly, I don't leave the house very often; only once or twice a week to visit the pub down the street. That's what happens when you're old." He winked at her.

A woman who she assumed was Vivian carried in a tray that held their tea and set it down on the coffee table.

"Vivian, this is my granddaughter Rosemary and her friend Tom."

The woman gave each of them a friendly smile coated in so much warmth that the room suddenly felt humid. She had a round, soft face with quite a few wrinkles, particularly around the corners of her dark brown eyes. Rosemary supposed she was pretty, at least in terms of elderly standards, but she was quite plain in comparison to her late grandmother, Alana. Rose could remember much of her: her cheekbones that were so defined they looked as though they were cut from stone; the dignified look she always wore on her face; the bright blue eyes and dark red hair that matched Rose and Evelyn's. There was one other thing she could remember, too: her arrogant callousness. It was striking, really, that nearly every detail of Alana and Vivian contrasted so sharply.

Then again, there was probably a reason behind it.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you," the older woman stood before her and opened her arms in expectation of a hug.

Rosemary stood and hesitantly gave in.

When she was finally released, Vivian began serving their tea and Rosemary realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach that her grandfather's wife wasn't going anywhere. As happy as she was to be given the chance to catch up with him, she wished it had just been the two of them.

Tom held up his hand as Vivian was about to pour him a cup. "Thank you, but I don't plan to stay." He turned to look at Rosemary. "I'll wait at the pub on the corner; I'm sure the two of you have quite a bit to catch up on."

She instantly knew what he was doing and she loved him for it: if he left, Vivian might feel out of place and let the two of them speak privately. "Are you sure?" she asked him, feeling a tad guilty that he set all of this up for her just to leave.

"Of course."

"It's called LaPoite's," Emerson chimed in. "The pub, I mean."

Tom nodded. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet the both of you." Vivian led him to the front door and he glanced back at her with a small smile before stepping outside.

Rosemary held her breath for the next few moments, hoping his leaving hadn't been for nothing and that Vivian had taken the hint. She lingered in the living room for a moment, but finally announced in a cheerful voice: "Right before you arrived, I was working on sewing a quilt upstairs. I think I'll get back to it so you can visit."

She somehow kept herself from wrinkling her nose in disgust. Sewing a quilt? It was such a very muggle thing to do. But, at the same time, she didn't really care what Vivian's excuse was as long as she excused herself. "Thank you for the tea," Rosemary said with a modest grin.

"Of course, dear. So nice to finally meet you."

As much as Rose wanted to dislike her, she couldn't. Vivian was too damned friendly and besides that, it seemed somewhat heartless to dislike an elderly person.

"He seemed like a nice lad," Emerson told her as his wife wandered away down the hall.

"He is. He's…" She searched her mind for the right word, but none of them seemed to do him justice. Especially given everything he had done for her that evening. "Amazing," she finally said.

Her grandfather leaned forward in his chair slightly. "Now, you must tell me: what on earth are the two of you doing in Paris?"

"Haven't you seen the papers?" she asked him in disbelief. Surely he had recognized Tom from the tournament reports.

He shook his head. "I haven't read the paper in ages. It's depressing, everything that's going on in the world. It makes for a much happier and less paranoid existence to remove yourself from it all."

"Well surely you've heard of the Continental Wizarding Dueling Tournament?"

"Yes, of course…It began just last weekend, didn't it? One of the sponsors owns LaPointe's. I haven't spoken with him in a while because he's been so busy preparing for the competition. I wonder if you've heard of him; his name is B-"

"Well, you aren't going to believe this, but Tom is competing!" Rosemary knew it was rude to interrupt, but she was too excited to tell him about Tom. But, it wasn't only that: she had been swiftly reminded of her grandfather's tendency to ramble. Thankfully, she also remembered the fact that he rarely took offense if interrupted.

Emerson looked both surprised and impressed. "Really? I thought you looked about the same age, but perhaps I've gotten to be a bad judge of it."

"We are; he's going to be entering his seventh year at Hogwarts this fall, just as I am. He's the youngest person ever to compete in the tournament."

"That's astounding...he must be exceptionally clever. A Ravenclaw as well?"

"Slytherin. But he is exceptionally clever; we were chosen as Head Boy and Girl."

"Oh, Rosemary, that's wonderful! I'm so glad to hear you were chosen…that's quite an accomplishment and you certainly deserve it. Even as a little girl, everyone could see your brilliance. Congratulations, love."

"Thank you." She smiled down at her cup of tea.

"And I'm sure your mother and father are as equally impressed with Mr. Riddle as I am."

She felt an inevitable feeling of dread at his words, knowing that she would have to clarify. "It's a bit more complicated than that. But before I say anything, I need your word that you won't tell my parents I visited."

"Rosemary," he started sternly. "You really shouldn't disobey them in such a way…It's disrespectful. You know-"

"He's a half-blood," she dropped her voice to a hiss so Vivian wouldn't hear her from the other room. She was not particularly interested in listening to the rest of the lecture he had started in on.

Emerson sat back in his chair and sipped his tea, looking at her for a long moment. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he said, "Just curious – is it your mother or father who seems to be more opposed to your being with him?"

"My father," she told him. "Which is a bit strange, really, seeing how Mum was the one who cared so much when you remarried." As they had never spoken directly about the rift in their family that had been created by his second marriage, it felt odd to say such a thing.

Surprisingly, her grandfather looked almost amused. "Ah…yes, I see." She gave him an expectant look and he continued on to ask: "Did your parents ever tell you about the way they ended up together?"

She shook her head. "Not really, no. I know they went to Hogwarts together…and that they were both in Ravenclaw, of course. I suppose I always sort of assumed Mum was impressed with Father's Quidditch talents."

"Well those things are all true, but that wasn't how they ended up together."

Rosemary was quickly losing patience. How was any of this relevant at all to what she had told him? "Okay," she said, hoping he would quickly wrap up his story and give her some genuine advice.

"Well I can't imagine that she would have told you, but there was another boy that went to Hogwarts. Pierce, wasn't it? I can't be sure…it was so many years ago. Anyway, I remember that he was quite clever – not Head Boy material, mind you, but clever enough. He was also a Slytherin…and a half-blood. And your mother was positively enthralled with him. So much so that, more than a few times, we thought we might check her for signs of Amortentia."

He paused and chuckled a bit to himself. "Well, of course, your grandmother loathed him entirely. She had always been quite prejudiced about that sort of thing. And, as much as I regret some of the things I did in those years, it was my job as her husband to uphold the ideals that she so strongly believed in. Another thing you have to understand is that Evelyn adored her mother and wanted to be a part of everything she did. She would beg and beg Alana for hours to take her to any of the galas or tea luncheons. I think your grandmother was afraid that she would lose that admiration of her daughter if she was too vocal about her disapproval of Evelyn's courtship with Pierce. So, as you might expect, the undesirable aspects of parenting often fell on me instead. In the end, I gave her an ultimatum: marry Pierce or forever lose her place in the pureblood world and face the fact that she could never be like her mother. Well, we all know how the story ends, of course: your mother married Basil a year and a half later and named you after her mother."

Emerson sighed, setting down his tea and looking at her with a heartbreakingly sad look. "Anyway, giving her that ultimatum was a decision I've regretted every day since. I know, now, that even with all of Alana's prejudices, she would have accepted their marriage eventually because of her love for Evelyn. Now, your mother simply sees me as a hypocrite."

To say that she was shocked by everything her grandfather had just told her would be a vast understatement. She was initially incapable of formulating any sort of response in her head and had not even begun to process any of it. "So your advice to me is to be with Tom, right?" she eventually managed, even though she was merely scraping at the surface at his words.

He looked at her cautiously. "I'm not sure what advice I'm giving you," he told her. "Your situation seems to be a bit more…complicated."

"How do you mean? It's precisely the same...well, sort of. Mum and I have never really been that close, but maybe in her eyes..."

"I don't think your Basil is merely enforcing your mother's beliefs, like I did for Alana. First of all, Evelyn was clearly never as prejudiced as her mother. Your father may also be taking all of this a little too personally…I'm almost positive that Evelyn was still very much in love with Pierce when she and Basil married and I wouldn't be surprised if your father knew it. I remember all the things he did for her that first year they were married – he bought her that enormous house and filled it with all those pretty things. It was obvious that he truly loved her, just as much as she loved Pierce. But even with all his attempts at winning her, there was still this gloominess about her for quite some time. I could see it in her every time we came to visit. Things got better when she got pregnant with you; I think it was then that she truly made peace with her choice. Regardless, even though I know admittedly next to nothing about your situation, I believe that your father might see Tom as a reminder of a very painful time in his life. I can't simply tell you for certain whether or not he would eventually accept the two of you."

Rosemary slowly nodded in understanding. Everything he told her certainly fit and seemed to make sense given the way her parents had acted, though it wasn't particularly good news for her and Tom. If anything, it made her feel rather hopeless about the prospect of him proving himself to her family. Still, she felt as though she had gotten much more than she bargained for (and in such a short amount of time) from her visit with her grandfather. The information he had given her would certainly be useful going forward.

"You won't tell them I visited, will you?" she asked nervously.

At first he looked hesitant, but his face softened. "You have my word, dear."

Tom's fingers traced her newly naked body just the way he knew she liked. His mind was still spinning a bit from her account of the conversation with her grandfather, but they slowly evaporated from his consciousness as he became more absorbed in what he was doing.

Since she arrived in Paris, there hadn't been a single night that went by without indulging their physical urges. They certainly weren't about to waste a perfectly good chance after dealing with the issue of his dorm-mates while they were still at Hogwarts. But that night would have to be especially memorable; even he knew of the desire to have incredible sex on one's birthday. Tom himself had fantasized about it (albeit for the first time on his last birthday), but he and Rosemary hadn't even gone steady until a couple of weeks later.

All week he had been thinking of what he might try that night; he certainly wanted to pleasantly surprise her with something new. He had narrowed it to a few options and in that moment he finally chose his course of action, hoping that it would succeed as much as he thought it might.

His hands continued to roam her body and he didn't allow them to rest for very long on her most pleasurably sensitive areas, though it was clear that she wanted them to. But getting her off like he usually did was not nearly suitable for this occasion. No, not suitable at all; as such, his last gift of the day to her would be the deepest, most sensational climax she had ever experienced.

Rosemary grew increasingly impatient as he continued to tease her in various ways. Especially when she reached down to reciprocate, in obvious hopes of heating things up more quickly, and he had shooed her hand away. "Tom, it's been nearly fifteen minutes…touch me already."

"I am touching you," he smirked, as his fingers grazed one of her nipples and a tiny gasp of pleasure escaped her lips.

She recovered rapidly, narrowing her eyes at him slightly. "I mean really touch me."

"Well, alright," he told her. She looked satisfied, as though he had merely given in to her wishes. But, in reality, the fact that she had asked for it had been his plan all along. "Close your eyes, then."

"Not this again," she groaned.

He smirked. "Do you want it or not?"

She promptly closed her eyes and Tom moved so his head was hovering between her legs. He looked up at her, watching her expression turn from expectant to positively erotic as his tongue traveled against her in one long stroke. Her eyes remained closed as she moaned and wrapped her legs around his head.

He could tell that she was growing closer and closer to her climax while he continued to lick and suck on her. In fact, he could feel her almost go over the edge in the way she was squeezing the sides of his head with her thighs as he pressed his tongue inside of her, tasting her dripping sweetness. The combination of it all made him ache for her in ways that were some of the strongest he had ever felt.

But he held himself back, knowing he could give her a better finish if he dragged things out a little longer. He removed his tongue and kissed the side of her thigh. "Oh, don't stop, love," she groaned.

He disobeyed her, of course, proceeding to gently kiss her anywhere but where she wanted him to.

"Please..." she begged him as she buried her hands in his hair and attempted to force his mouth down over her.

"Please what?" he teased her. His lips were so close that they brushed against her skin and she let out yet another moan.

"Please keep going. I want…" she paused as though she was contemplating whether or not to say what he knew she wanted to.

"What do you want?" he pressed.

"I want you to make me come." She said it quickly and looked rather horrified at herself. Tom, on the other hand, found it utterly delectable. The fact that he had gotten her so worked up that she would actually tell him such a thing confirmed that he was quite close to achieving his goal for the evening.

He gave in to her wishes, pleasuring her with uninhibited vigor. "Fucking hell that feels good," she moaned after only a few seconds. She was clearly too lost in pleasure to bother with another horrified expression. Her thighs began pressing against him the same way they did before, but he didn't stop this time. "Oh fuck! Tom!" she screamed as she lost herself in her climax.

From the way she had shaken and squirmed, he could already tell that it was clearly better than usual. Then, even his hopes to make it her best seemed to be validated when he glanced up at her and saw the look of compete exhaustion on her face. Tom kissed her and rolled onto his back next to her.

"We can keep going," she told him, even though her eyes were slowly beginning to close and her voice sounded fainter with each passing word. "It seems wrong to just stop here…what about you?"

He couldn't help but smile at her offer. "Let's go to sleep now. Doesn't that sound nice?" He wanted her, of course, but knew it would take away from what she had just experienced.

"Yes," she admitted quietly. Tom watched her as she cuddled up close to him. "I wish every day could be as perfect as this one. You made it truly marvelous. Thank you." She kissed his jaw. "I love you."

"I love you, Rosemary."

As she drifted to sleep in the crook of his arm, his mind wandered to everything she had told him about her visit with her grandfather. It had all been a bit unexpected, to say the least – especially the bit about her parents. Although it was clear that she didn't have the first idea what to make of it, Tom thought it might be good news. He wasn't exactly sure how it would be useful– at least not yet– but perhaps having this information about her family would give him a greater chance of manipulating his way to their approval.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though every optimistic thought that passed his mind was met with a pessimistic one of equal magnitude. He felt a growing sense of apprehension as he recalled her words from a few moments before:

"I wish every day could be as perfect as this one."

She could have been referring to a multitude of things, of course – the reunion with her grandfather, dinner at her favorite restaurant, and perhaps the earrings he had given her. But his mind immediately flew to the way he had dealt with his temper all day instead. Maybe she hadn't even noticed it, but it was certainly the part of the day that had taken the largest amount of effort on his end. He couldn't help but think that it had played at least a small part in making things as perfect as she described.

It would have been completely fine and he might have appreciated the fact that she had taken note of his efforts quite a bit more if a nagging voice hadn't appeared in the back of his mind, telling him that the exertion it took to subdue his pride and temper was nowhere near sustainable. It had been murder to listen to her describe, word for word, about how she had told Emerson that Tom was a half-blood and all the conversation that had come from it. The only way he had kept himself from getting upset was by reminding himself that he had been the one to set up her visit with her grandfather. Tom had obviously known that she would have to tell him his blood status and he thought he would be able to accept that another person knew about it if it meant making her happy.

But the truth of the matter was more complicated. Of course he was happy that she had gotten to visit with Emerson, but it almost felt as though she was throwing around his blood status like a bit of random trivia. If he could be so bothered by something he had actually known was going to happen, how could he possibly hope to control his temper when something upset him and he hadn't planned for it? When he thought about things this way his desire to change for her seemed futile and rather hopeless.

At least he knew that, for now, things were perfect in her mind.

"I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside of me will always be the person I am tonight." – F. Scott Fitzgerald

So, first of all, it's been way too damn long since I've used an F. Scott Fitzgerald quote. That needed to happen.

I hope you enjoyed the glimpse into Rosemary's family! It was certainly a fun few paragraphs to write because I've been waiting for FOREVER to reveal it. :D It only makes me more excited to reveal all the other surprises I have planned for this story.

As always, I am infinitely appreciative of my reviewers. You keep me writing when I would rather do literally anything else (this week I seemed particularly distracted by other things). So a big thank you is certainly in order to A regrettable decision, Mrs. WaylandOdinsonBlack, RosiePosie15, and CharlotteBlackwood for your reviews of the last chapter!(:

Thank you all for reading! I will be back this week with Chapter #32, in which you will finally learn Tom's fate in the tournament!