So I binged watched Season 1 and 2 of Bridgerton and the romantic tension between Anthony and Kate just gave me so many Tom and Kavya vibes that I had to write another story.

Watching that show just made me want to write from them. With each episode that I popcorn binge watched, I was jotting down notes, quotes, and plotting away for this fic lol. Depending on the outcome of I want this story to go, it defintiely won't end in marriage like in Bridgerton, but there will be tons and tons of romantic tension.

Trust me this entire series of stories could keep going until book 7 of Harry Potter, but I don't think I'm going to do that because it would be too much for me to handle and besides I do want to move on to other fandoms. Star Wars being one of them.

If you haven't read my first two stories: Loving You Is A Losing Game and Fragments of Love definitely read those before you start this one.

So with that all said, enjoy this new story!

Happy reading.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling & Warner Bros.


Fractured Fate


Chapter 1: A Missing Connection

Kavya sat cross-legged on her bed in her cozy room in Little Hangleton, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight. Cinnamon was laying by her feet happily snoozing away. She had just celebrated her seventeenth birthday, a milestone that marked her entrance into adulthood in the wizarding world. The thought of finally being of age to use magic outside of school filled her with a sense of excitement and anticipation.

In her hands, she held a stack of letters, each one bearing the familiar seal of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They must have been delivered by owls last night. As she flipped through them, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, her heartwarming at the sight of the handwritten messages from her friends and housemates giving her warm birthday wishes as well as to see her during their final school year.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching her door. Moments later, her uncle Rahul entered the room, a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hand.

"Kavya, have you seen the news?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

Kavya looked up, curiosity piqued. "What news?"

Rahul held out the newspaper for her to see, pointing to a headline that read, "Dumbledore Defeats Grindelwald: Dark Wizard Captured in Epic Duel."

Kavya's eyes widened in surprise as she read the article. It seemed that Dumbledore had finally succeeded in bringing down one of the most feared dark wizards of their time. It was a momentous victory, one that would surely change the course of history.

"That's incredible," Kavya exclaimed, her heart swelling with pride. "Dumbledore is truly a great wizard." It would mean Dumbledore would return to Hogwarts this year.

Rahul nodded in agreement. "Yes, indeed. It's a relief to know that Grindelwald's reign of terror has come to an end."

Kavya turned back to her letters, and she saw one from Amara. She skimmed through the letter and frowned when she saw Erik's name. The letter reads,

"Dear Kavya,

I hope this letter finds you well. It's been quite a summer, hasn't it? I've been keeping busy helping my mother at St. Mungo's; you won't believe who we've had as a patient! Erik, that German refugee exchange student we met last year, got himself into some trouble. Apparently, he got caught up with Grindelwald's followers and ended up in quite a mess. Luckily, my mother is taking good care of him. It's been a bit hectic, but I'm glad to be able to help out.

How have you been? I miss our chats and adventures at Hogwarts. I can't wait to see you again when school starts. Do you think we'll have another eventful year, or will things finally settle down now that Grindelwald and the muggle war is over? Either way, I'm looking forward to it.

Take care and write back soon!

Yours,

Amara"

Kavya's heart sank as she read the letter. Erik's involvement with Grindelwald's followers was troubling, to say the least. She should know, she was caught up in it last year before the term ended.

If it wasn't for Tom…

Kavya shook her head slightly. She wouldn't allow her thoughts of him to plague her mind.

Folding the letter carefully, Kavya tucked it back into its envelope and set it aside.

As Kavya continued to read through the letters, her excitement waned with each passing envelope. There was no letter from Tom, and the absence of his familiar handwriting left her feeling uneasy.

"Is something wrong, Kavya?" Rahul asked noticing the concern on her face.

Kavya hesitated, unsure of how to voice her thoughts. "It's just... I was hoping to hear from Tom. But there's no letter from him."

Anjali exchanged a worried glance with Rahul. "Perhaps he's just been busy," she offered gently. "I'm sure he'll write soon."

But deep down, Kavya couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach. Tom's silence spoke volumes, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to their strained relationship than meeting the eye.

Setting the letters aside, Kavya leaned back against the pillows, her mind swirling with questions and doubts. She knew that she would have to confront Tom about their fractured friendship, but the thought of doing so filled her with a sense of trepidation.

"Kavya, if something's bothering you, you know you can talk to us," Rahul said, his voice gentle but concerned.

Kavya offered a weak smile, grateful for her aunt and uncle's unwavering support. "I know, Uncle Rahul." To be honest, she wasn't quite sure how to explain what was going on between her and Tom. She had written to him a few times during the summer. Perhaps he never got any of her letters.

"You know, I did get a job offer in London," Rahul told her. "Didn't you mention your friend, Tom lived in an orphanage."

Kavya's heart skipped a beat at her uncle's words. She had mentioned Tom's background briefly in passing, but she hadn't expected him to bring it up again now. She hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal.

"Yes, he did," Kavya replied carefully. "But what if he's not there anymore? We haven't been keeping in touch as of late it seems."

"Perhaps it is time you speak to him about it," Her Aunt Anjali piqued up. "Face to face."

Kavya nodded thoughtfully, considering her aunt's suggestion. "You're right, Aunt Anjali. Maybe it's time to have a proper conversation with him." She wasn't sure if she was ready for that either.

"Good, the train for London leaves tomorrow morning." Rahul told her. "Be ready by 8 am." He told her with a smile and left her room.

Anjali smiled and then took out another letter from her pocket. "Here, one more present." She told her niece. The letter was addressed to Kavya from late her parents.

Kavya's heart swelled with emotion as she took the letter from her aunt's outstretched hand. Tears welled up in her eyes as she traced the familiar handwriting of her late parents. With trembling hands, she carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

As she read the words penned by her parents, memories of happier times flooded her mind. Their love and guidance shone through the heartfelt words, reminding Kavya of the strength and resilience she carried within her.

With bated breath, she reached the end of the letter, where her parents had left her a final gift – their inheritance to rebuild the Golden Spice store in Hogsmeade once she graduated from Hogwarts. The realization washed over her like a wave, filling her with a sense of purpose and determination.

Anjali watched her niece's reaction, her own eyes glistening with tears. "Your parents would be so proud of the person you've become, Kavya," she said softly. "And this... this is their way of watching over you and supporting you, even from beyond."

Kavya nodded, unable to speak as she clutched the letter to her chest. The weight of her parents' legacy and the responsibility it entailed settled on her shoulders, but she felt an inner strength rising within her.

"Thank you, Aunt Anjali," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I'll make them proud. I'll rebuild the Golden Spice store, and I'll honor their memory in everything I do."

Her aunt enveloped her in a warm embrace, offering silent comfort and encouragement. Together, they sat in quiet reflection, the letter a beacon of hope and resilience in the face of adversity.

"Get some sleep alright," Anjali said to her soothingly. "You have a big trip tomorrow morning."

With a heavy heart, Kavya tucked the empty envelope into the drawer of her bedside table, her mind still swirling with questions and doubts. She knew that she would have to find the courage to confront Tom about their fractured friendship, no matter how difficult it might be.

As she extinguished the candles and settled under the covers, Kavya couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that washed over her. The absence of Tom's letter weighed heavily on her heart, casting a shadow over the otherwise peaceful night.


Tom stood behind the counter of Borgin and Burkes, surrounded by shelves lined with dark and mysterious artifacts. The dimly lit shop felt like a refuge to him, a sanctuary away from the prying eyes and whispered rumors of the outside world. He had chosen to stay at Hogwarts over the summer, preferring the solitude of the castle to the crowded confines of the orphanage.

As he dusted off a particularly ancient-looking relic, his mind wandered to the events of the past year. The darkness that had consumed him seemed to grow stronger with each passing day, fueling his hunger for power and pushing him further down the path of the unknown.

Despite the whispers of his past and the shadows that haunted his every step, Tom found solace in the quiet solitude of Borgin and Burkes. Here, among the artifacts of the dark arts, he felt a sense of belonging, a connection to something greater than himself.

But even amidst the eerie tranquility of the shop, Tom could not escape the nagging sense of unease that gnawed at him. The memory of Kavya's disappointed expression haunted him, a constant reminder of the rift that had formed between them.

As Tom continued his work, meticulously arranging the artifacts on the shelves, Mr. Burke approached him, his eyes keen and calculating. "Tom, I need you to assist with inventory in the back room," he said briskly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Tom nodded, suppressing a flicker of irritation. He had been hoping to have some time alone to collect his thoughts, but he knew better than to defy Mr. Burke's orders. "Of course, sir," he replied evenly, following the older man towards the back of the shop.

As they worked, Mr. Burke kept up a steady stream of conversation, discussing the latest acquisitions and potential customers. But Tom's mind was elsewhere, his thoughts consumed by the weight of his own secrets and the burden of his fractured soul.

As Tom continued his work, carefully arranging the artifacts on the shelves, his eyes scanned the various items, searching for the familiar glint of the Slytherin locket. But to his dismay, the spot where it had once sat was now conspicuously empty.

Mr. Burke, noticing Tom's furrowed brow, approached him with a concerned expression. "Is something the matter, Tom?" he inquired, his gaze flicking to the empty space on the shelf.

Tom hesitated for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to formulate a response. "I... I was just looking for the locket," he admitted, his tone betraying his unease. "Where is it?" He almost demanded an answer.

Mr. Burke's brow furrowed in confusion. "Ah, yes, the Slytherin locket," he remarked, his tone thoughtful. "It was here just yesterday, but it seems to have been purchased." He said with a heavy sigh. It was clear he was reluctant to give it away since he knew how valuable that locket was. "It was brought in by a young witch just before Christmas, oh, many years ago now. She said she needed the gold badly, well, that much was obvious. Covered in rags and pretty far along ... she was going to have a baby, you see. She said the locket had been Slytherin's."

Tom listened to Mr. Burke reminiscing about the woman who gave him the locket all those years ago. Little did he know, the woman that gave Mr. Burke the locket was his very own mother.

"But when I looked at it, it had his mark all right, and a few simple spells were enough to tell me the truth. Of course, that made it near enough priceless. She didn't seem to have any idea how much it was worth. Happy to get ten Galleons for it. Best bargain we ever made!" Mr. Burke said with a hint of satisfaction.

"Do you remember who sold it to you?" Tom asked, the desperation in his voice could be heard.

Mr. Burke paused for a moment, his brow furrowing in thought. "Hmm, let me see... Her last name was Gaunt, if I remember correctly. A peculiar name, to be sure, but she seemed quite eager to be rid of the locket."

Tom's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name Gaunt. It was a name he had heard whispered in hushed tones, a name that carried with it a dark and ominous reputation. Could it be possible that the woman Mr. Burke spoke of was his own mother, Merope Gaunt?

As Mr. Burke spoke, Tom's anger simmered just beneath the surface, a seething rage that threatened to consume him. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to maintain his composure.

The revelation that the locket had once belonged to his family only served to fuel his fury. How could his mother have been so foolish as to sell such a valuable heirloom for a mere pittance? And worse yet, how could Mr. Burke be so callous as to profit from his family's misfortune?

Though he remained outwardly composed, inside, Tom's mind churned with thoughts of revenge. He vowed to reclaim the locket, to restore it to its rightful place as a symbol of his family's legacy. And when he did, Mr. Burke would pay dearly for his ignorance and greed.

With a curt nod to Mr. Burke, Tom turned away, his mind consumed with thoughts of vengeance. He would bide his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. But one thing was certain – he would not rest until he had the Slytherin locket back in his possession, where it rightfully belonged.

"Do you know who purchased it?" Tom asked, his voice strained with forced calmness.

Mr. Burke shook his head, his expression troubled. "I'm afraid not, Tom. The transaction was handled by one of our associates while I was away on business," he explained. "But I do recall the customer being quite taken with it. A wealthy witch by the name of Hepzibah Smith."

Tom's mind raced as he processed the information. Hepzibah Smith. The name sounded familiar, though he couldn't quite place it. But one thing was certain – he needed to retrieve the locket, by any means necessary.

"Thank you, Mr. Burke," Tom said tersely, his mind already formulating a plan. "I'll look into it."

As Mr. Burke moved away to attend to another customer, Tom's thoughts whirled with determination. He couldn't afford to let the Slytherin locket slip through his fingers, not when so much depended on it. With renewed purpose, he set about devising a plan to reclaim what was rightfully his, no matter the cost.


With each passing day, Tom could feel the darkness within him growing stronger, twisting and warping his once noble intentions. He found himself growing increasingly tired and irritable, snapping at customers and colleagues alike with little provocation.

As they finished the inventory, Mr. Burke paused, his gaze lingering on Tom's troubled expression. "Is everything alright, Tom?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Tom forced a tight-lipped smile, masking his inner turmoil. "Everything is fine, Mr. Burke. Just a bit tired, that's all," he replied, his tone strained.

But Mr. Burke wasn't convinced. "You've been acting differently lately, Tom. More... volatile," he observed, his eyes searching Tom's face for answers.

Tom's facade cracked, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "It's nothing, sir. Just... personal matters," he muttered, unable to meet Mr. Burke's gaze.

"Ah I see, well perhaps once you're back at Hogwarts you'll feel more right at home my boy," Mr. Burke didn't want to press on Tom's personal affairs. "You know people from the Ministry of Magic drop by here frequently. I may put in a good word for you to work for them once you graduate."

Tom's lip curled in disdain at the mention of working for the Ministry of Magic. The very idea of being a mere cog in their bureaucratic machine was abhorrent to him. He had no intention of spending his life toiling away in the service of others. No, he had far greater ambitions than that.

"Thank you for the offer, Mr. Burke, but I have no interest in working for the Ministry," Tom replied, his voice dripping with disdain. "I have my own plans for the future, and they don't involve being subservient to anyone."

Mr. Burke raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Tom's brash response. "Well, suit yourself, my boy," he said with a shrug. "But don't be too quick to dismiss the opportunities that come your way. Sometimes, it's the unexpected paths that lead to the greatest rewards."

Tom scoffed at the idea. He would have his own greatness one day and not anyone or anything would get in his way.

Before Mr. Burke could press further, a customer entered the shop, drawing his attention away. Tom took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain control. But the unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach refused to dissipate, lingering like a shadow in the corners of his mind.

Tom left Borgin and Burkes, the encounter with Mr. Burke still weighing heavily on his mind. He wandered through the dimly lit streets of Knockturn Alley, lost in his own thoughts. Eventually, he made his way back to Hogwarts, seeking solace in the familiar surroundings of the Slytherin common room.

As he sank into one of the plush armchairs by the crackling fireplace, Nagini slithered over to him, sensing his unease. She coiled around his leg, offering silent comfort as he brooded in silence.

Tom reached out to stroke her scales, finding solace in her silent companionship.

"It's all so complicated, Nagini," Tom murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I've come too far to stop now." His ambitious nature taking hold of him.

But even as he spoke, his hand reached into his bag, searching for something buried deep within its depths. And there, amidst the scattered parchment and textbooks, he found them: Kavya's letters, untouched and forgotten.

For a moment, Tom hesitated, his fingers hovering over the letters as memories of their friendship flooded his mind. But then, with a determined shake of his head, he withdrew his hand, the letters clutched tightly within his grasp.

"These things don't matter," he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Not anymore."

And with that, he rose from his seat, crossing the room to the flickering flames of the fireplace. Without hesitation, he tossed the letters into the fire, watching as the flames consumed them, devouring the last remnants of his past.

As the last of the letters turned to ash, Tom felt a strange sense of liberation wash over him. In that moment, he made a silent vow to himself: he would no longer be bound by sentimentality or nostalgia. From now on, his only allegiance would be to power, and he would stop at nothing to achieve it.

With a newfound sense of purpose burning within him, Tom turned away from the fire, his eyes blazing with determination. The path ahead was dark and treacherous, but he would walk it without fear, for he knew that destiny awaited him at the end. And when he reached the pinnacle of power, there would be no one to stand in his way.

For Tom Riddle had chosen his path, and nothing would sway him from his course.


It's the final year for them, so what can I say except Tom is just down his rabbit hole path that will make him feared and powerful throughout the wizarding world in the future.

Review.