NEWS FROM THE WAR
DECEMBER 23RD, 1943

THE BATTLE OF THE DNIEPER
After four turbulent months on the front, our Soviet allies have finally managed to defeat the German Wehrmacht on the river Dnieper. As of now, they are planning to launch an offensive for further territorial liberation.
ALLY SHIP DETONATES A MINE
Worcester, our accommodation ship, suffered great damage when she detonated a mine in the North Sea near Smith's Knoll. The damage was so great that she had to be towed to Great Yarmouth. It is reported that she is beyond economical repair and will most likely not be in service for a long time.

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Tom was laying on his bed, eyes squinting while reading the daily newspaper. Just before this, he had finished reading a book, picking up the newspaper because he had nothing better to do. It did little to keep him entertained since it was always the same: war reports, local news and some advertisements thrown in. At least the war reports have toned down from mass Blitz deaths to ship sinking.

Ever since he got home, his sleep schedule just couldn't return to normal. Waking up at 10 AM instead of 7 AM regardless of when he went to sleep. He believed that the all-nighter he pulled on the last day of school caused this. Originally planning to have a nice talk with his parents when he came back, he briefly went to his room to change and put down his luggage. Instead of that, he fell asleep like a baby, waking up late the next morning.

And to think about the times he told Myrtle to sleep earlier and have a healthier sleep schedule... what a massive hypocrite he was now.

Downstairs, the clattering of dishes could be heard, along with a sweet aroma. It had been almost two hours since he was last downstairs, before he disappeared to his room to read. Now would be a good time to see what his parents were up to, he reckoned.

Right as he went over to the door, he heard a little squeak from near his window. Turning around, he saw his owl biting down on one of the metal bars on it's cage, staring puppy-eyed at him, as if begging to be let out.

Well, it wouldn't do harm to let it out for some time. He walked up to it, opened the cage and later the window, which made a sudden rush of cold air enter his room. The owl didn't seem to mind, hopping out and standing on his table. But, the issue was that it didn't seem to be flying out. Instead, it was still staring at him with it's large, buldging eyes.

"What is it now, bird?", Tom thought.

Was it hungry, perhaps?

He reached out for a pack of seeds near him, giving some to the owl. But, instead of it excepting them and gladly eating them, it faced away from him. Then, it continued to look at him.

Tom was getting more and more confused. How did he manage to pick out an owl this weird?

Judging by it's look, Tom suspected that it might want to be... pet?

He reached out his hand and scratched it below it's head. It seemed to be enjoying it, nuzzling against his hand. When it appeared to have had enough, it hopped away from him, spread it's wings and glanced at him one last time before flying out the window.

Oh, that clingy, sneaky bird.

After that, Tom closed the window and resumed his original plan. Making his way down the stairs, the pleasant smell seemed to be intensifying, so he decided to go to the kitchen first. There, he saw his mother wearing a white apron and cleaning up the leftover dirty pots. He stepped closer to the oven, wanting to see what was for dinner. Just then, Eliza noticed him.

"Back from the reading session I presume? Or did the smell draw you in? If you're curious, today's dinner is Shepherd's pie, I hope you'll enjoy it.", said Eliza with a smile.

"It's a combination of both. I finished reading one book, let the owl out and wanted to see what you two were up to. As for the pie, it smells wonderful, I'm sure the taste will be as good as the smell."
"Do you need help with anything, mum?"

"Yes, actually.", Eliza said after a brief pause.
"I'm a bit tired after making this pie, so it would be really helpful if you washed the dishes and put them where they belong."

"Of course, mum. On it.", he said as he rolled up his sleeves.

"Thank you!"

Before exiting the kitchen, Eliza walked up to Tom and planted a soft kiss on the top of his head.

Following the not so hard task of washing the dishes, he carefully dried them with a towel, one by one, and put them where they belong. After that, he went over to sit on the sofa with his parents, exchanging a short conversation which was interrupted by Eliza going over to take the Shepherd's pie out. Meanwhile, he and James followed after her with the intention of setting the table.

After some time, the table was set with scented candles, a bright Christmas table cloth, and a freshly baked Shepherd's pie. Tom was a light eater, but he frequently contradicted that fact because of his mother's cooking. It was just too good to resist. He continued chatting with his parents while grabbing a serving of some pie.

But, there was always this lingering feeling of dread.

The last time he saw Myrtle she looked like she was on the verge of tears, begging him to come into contact with her whenever he could. As promised, he gave her a ring when he came back home. The call was picked up rather fast by Myrtle, who responded frantically with most of what she was saying being unintelligible. But the part that worried him the most was the rapid shouting of her name in the background. Because of that, he often worried that he would cause her problems if he were to call her at the wrong time. So, reluctantly, he decided that it was best if she called him herself. Even sending letters by any means was out of the question.

Whatever, she'd respond sometime. Knowing Myrtle, she would use every trick up her sleeve and opportunity to respond. He just needed to be patient...

Tomorrow will be quite a long day. His parents had organized a trip to the centre of London in hopes of buying new Christmas ornaments, having a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant and visiting some bookshops, knowing that it was one of Tom's favorite places to go to. The only thing that was left was decorating the tree after that. In all honesty, Tom was pretty excited for all of this.

After the aforementioned activities, Tom found himself in his room again, carefully examining and taking the wrapper off the three books he'd just been gifted. One of them was a novella, the other two were novels. It would probably be good to start with the novella because of it's shorter length.

And so he began reading, gradually seeping into the story and forgetting his surroundings.

...Which made the knock on his door all the more surprising.

He quickly put a bookmark on the page and spoke:

"Come in."

Eliza slowly opened the door.

"Just wanted to check how you were doing. I see you like the books very much, since it's been nearly two hours since you went upstairs.", she said with a soft smile.

Two hours already? He thought that it was a mere twenty minutes or less.

"Do you mind if I talk to you for a few minutes?", she asked.

"No. Not at all." he replied, putting the novella aside.

After his reply, Eliza made her way to him and sat next to him. He already knew that some questioning would take place and didn't look forward to it. Not because he didn't like talking with his mother, but because he felt guilty for making her worry. And apart from that, their conversations would often revolve around... not so fun past experiences.

"How was your time at Hogwarts and these past few days? Fewer or higher instances of your nightmares or even troubled thoughts? You have been sleeping quite well at home, but that doesn't tell me the full story."

As always, she was looking at him with a loving and kind, yet stern gaze.

"It's been good.", he said after a pause.
"Much better than it was before I went to Hogwarts. There were a few instances of it coming back, but that was in the first week of school. After that, I could almost say things returned to normal."

Eliza's solemn slowly brightened up.

"That's great to hear, Tom.", she said with a small smile.
"I've been worrying a lot when you were at school, you know? Letting you go when you were in such a state..."
"Apart from that, I can't help but notice the fallen expression on your face. I feel like it's been present even since you came back home.", she said.
"Now, I trust what you have told me about your nightmares and troubles, but I feel like there is another thing that's bothering you, excluding the aforementioned things."

She was right. He couldn't stop thinking about Myrtle. The way her parents acted towards her, the way they just dragged her away like some toy, the way she looked at him one last time.

"It's about Myrtle, isn't it?", she said as if she read his mind, glancing towards him for confirmation.

"Yes.", he replied, facing towards the window.

"I can see why... her parents didn't exactly make a good first impression. I've had my fair share of friends with unnecessarily strict parents, they just need to find a good time to give you a ring or send you a letter. I have no doubt that she will reach out to you as soon as she has a chance to do so."

"It's not all about when she will contact me again, mum. I just feel irritated knowing that she is in the position she is and not doing anything about it.", he said.

Eliza let out a sigh.

"I agree, Tom, they definitely aren't fair to her. But, if you go against them too much, you can risk the already limited contact you have with her by testing their patience. I'd advise you to not intervene too much for now."

He nodded slowly in agreement, disappointed. Eliza put her hand on his back for reassurance.

"It'll be okay, I promise.", she said softly.

Tom wasn't happy with what she had told him, but couldn't say that her response didn't make sense, either. It was an unpleasant truth he had to accept, at least for some time.

"I know I drained you with these last few questions, and that you don't like answering them, but I have one more.", she said.

"That is...?", he said.

"What did you dream about that one turbulent night?"

Maybe he could answer those past few questions, but this was pushing the limit. He couldn't answer to this.

"I can't talk about it, mum. I've already told you multiple times."

"I know it's hard to talk about, but you've been avoiding answering this question for five months. I can't let you be suffer alone because of that any longer.", she stated firmly, looking at him directly in the eyes.

"I can't-"

"Tom.", she said, calmly.

He didn't think there was anything that she could say that would change his stance.

"Please."

Out of all of the things she could of said, this appeared to have done the trick. The sweet, yet subtly desperate tone she said one word with just seemed to make him change his mind. And so, begrudgingly, he began to talk. Over time, his tone appeared to be descending, making Eliza strain her ears. Aside from that, the things he told her were disturbing, to say the least. But, now that he finally told her what happened, it made everything easier. Easier to comfort him.

"Oh, Tom. Why didn't you tell me this before?", she said while hugging the glassy-eyed Tom.
"I know you wouldn't ever do something like that. It was just a dream. It was never real. I trust that you wouldn't make a decision like that."

"Thank you, mum.", he said, relieved.
"I love you."

"I love you too, Tom."

The stars shone brightly from the window, conveniently illuminating the novella Tom resumed to read. No words could describe the relief he had after Eliza took what he told her well. Too well, he could say.

On second thought, he did tell her that he almost commit murder almost a year prior, so this was probably miniscule compared to that.

In any case, this gave him hope that all of this would stop one day. That the persistent and annoying voice would cease to exist. All of the times it made him feel weak, humiliated him, tortured him... was in control. He hated when he wasn't the one in control.

It was getting pretty late, as evident from the sky seen from the window. He'd finish the last few pages of the novella and go to sleep, not really having anything else to do. Besides, tomorrow was Christmas, a perfect holiday to spend with your loved ones. After some time, he put the novella on his table and went directly to bed, having already been in his pyjamas. Slipping under the duvet, he slowly closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be an interesting day...

"Tommy?"

In an instant, his eyes snapped wide open. Directly above him stood a person that needed no introduction.

"Tommy!", she said with a wide smile.
"I've missed you so much!"

Right after that, he got yanked up by his arm from a laying position.

"What were you doing sprawled out like that on the floor anyway?", she asked.
"Oh, forget that! I'm so happy to see you again!", she said as she hugged him tightly.

The last few moments were so erratic that Tom didn't manage to process what was happening yet.

"It's great to see you again, too, Myrtle.", he said after a short pause and hugging her back.
"But where exactly are we?"

Everything around them was desolate and barren. All of the space around them, if you could call it that, was an off-white color. Myrtle started to glance around the place.

"Now that I think about it, I have no idea."
"Eh, it doesn't matter. As long as those wretched parents of mine aren't here to ruin everything, who cares if we are in a place like this?", she replied nonchalantly.
"Honestly, I think you should be glad that we are together again, Tom."

Tom? Never did he think he would be so off put by her merely saying his name instead of his nickname. His gut told him there was definitely something wrong. If there was a person who could tell something was wrong with Myrtle Warren, it was most definitely Tom Riddle.

"Myrtle, are you alright? I have a feeling that something is bothering you. You know you can talk about it with me if you want to, right?", he said kindly while looking at her in the eyes.

Just as he looked at her in the eyes, she immediately broke eye contact and looked towards the ground. Then, she let out a mild laugh.

"There are plenty of things that are bothering me, Tommy.", she said with a smile.
"But, I'm a little... disappointed that you didn't already know about that."

Didn't know about it? Did he not pay enough attention? Is he a bad friend?

Tom's eyes widened a little from surprise.

"It's about your parents, isn't it?", he said, hoping that it was true. What else could be bothering her?
"If it isn't, I'm truly sorry. I'd appreciate it if you could enlighten me on the subject."

The deafening silence didn't help to ease the tension one bit.

"Of course it is, Tommy.", she said, finally breaking the silence.
"It's a challenge to convince them to let me outside every time... to not lock me in my room and force me to practice the violin, to understand that I too need company and that even I can't entertain myself all day every day while being isolated in my room...", she said in a sad tone.

This made Tom even more concerned for her. Oh, how much he didn't know about her relationship with her parents. But at the same time, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable by asking.

"If only I had a friend that could help me get through this, that would be appreciated."

Those words felt like a stab to the heart.

"But, I guess I must go through this alone, as I always did and continue to do so. After all, why should such an accomplished and busy student like you even bother to care? Care about that freak called Myrtle?"

He was horrified at what she was saying.

"What are you talking about? That's pure nonsense! Of course I care!", he replied in a brasher tone than he originally intended.

"Why would you care about me? I'm just some random muggleborn you came to know. Muggleborns could only ruin your reputation at Hogwarts, so why bother the risk?", she said, her voice becoming shakier over time.
"I... I can just feel it. You HATE me!", she shrieked, facing away from him.
"You HATE all of those who are like me! You HATE all the muggleborns in our school!"

Those words made his thoughts stagger in place. His mind was screaming at him to say something, say that it's not true, comfort her, just do anything to make her stop crying. Even he himself was close to tears by this point.

He reached out to comfort her, only for her to jolt in his direction. But, instead of the brown eyes he loved and was used to seeing, he was met with hideous scarlet red ones and an empty, sinister smile.

"Isn't that right, Riddle?"

Upon hearing that, his eyes widened from shock, but Myrtle and the empty space around them were no longer there. Instead, he was surrounded by a light greenish-grey and the familiar furniture of his room. Setting the already disarranged duvet aside, he sat upright and put his head in his hands, taking a moment to process what had just happened.

It wasn't real. Myrtle would never act like this, she was just being manipulated by that thing. None of it was real.

...but it certainly felt real.

Sighing, Tom stood up at left his room, heading towards the bathroom. While walking through the hallway, he glanced up at the clock, which showed that it was currently half past four in the morning. Too early for his taste, but certainly better than most of the times he woke up at night. Sadly, the thing in common that the other times he woke up and this was that he believed he wouldn't be sleeping after the ordeal.

Entering the bathroom, the first thing he did was wash his face with cold water in hopes of waking himself up and easing his nerves. But, despite the pleasant cold rush from the water, one thing bothered him:

The mirror.

Every time he glanced up, he would be met with abhorrent black eyes which stared right back at him. They were like a desolate abyss where no light nor hope could be seen. It made him want to pull the mirror out of it's place and smash it into pieces. But, as always, he didn't let his emotions get the better of him.

When he felt that he was awake and calm enough, he got out of the bathroom and returned to his room, resorting to laying on his bed while waiting for his parents to wake up. Just because his day started out badly doesn't mean it should end like that, he reminded himself. There was still plenty of time left to spend making this day a memorable Christmas.

Midway through the day, Tom found himself in the kitchen, decorating gingerbread man cookies with his mother. Piping bag in hand, he tried his best not go over the edges of the cookies. While looking at the eyes of the finished gingerbread men, he felt as if they were staring right back at him with their soulless, beady eyes. How dare they?

But, apart from the aforementioned things, he was pretty sure that his owl was making a lot of noise upstairs for some reason. It was still outside merely ten minutes before, so he found it strange that it was already getting noisy.

"Mum, I think I hear the owl squealing upstairs. I'm going to check up on it, I'll be right back.", he said as he put down the piping bag.

"Alright, feel free to call for help if complications arise.", she replied.

He quickly got out of the kitchen and went upstairs to his room, still wearing the flour covered frilled white apron. Opening the door, he saw his owl staring outside the window, but it turned to him just as he arrived and seemingly went silent the same moment. Just for good measure, he went up to it anyway. Taking a closer look at it, he found that it was perfectly fine and that it was staring at him once again. But, glancing through the window, he saw another bird right outside his window. An owl which was more akin to a chicken, freezing outside while holding a... letter in it's beak?

He rushed to open the window, letting the small creature inside. Immediately afterwards, he snatched the scrunched up paper from it's beak, almost knocking the poor owl off it's little feet. He straightened the letter and began to read:

Dear Tommy,

First of all, I wish you a very Merry Christmas and I hope you have lots of fun with your family today! Second of all, I am indeed alive, we went to my granny's today to celebrate Christmas (house in the countryside near London). I'm currently upstairs, hiding from everyone and writing this letter to you and I'll probably still be there by the time you are going to read this, if that little owl manages to be quick enough. Her name is Nugget, probably after her yellow feathers. My granny thought they resembled gold, so that's that. Also, I sent this letter precisely at 11:17 AM, do notify me if that little lass took longer than expected... I might have to turn her into a real nugget when she comes back... Just kidding! Granny adores the little thing, I don't have the heart to do something like that to her, ahaha.

All the rambling aside, I have something important to ask you. There will be a New Year's concert in the concert hall where my violin professor performs. You know what that means? That's right, unlimited tickets I can use however I want! And to make the situation that more perfect, my parents aren't going to be home! They're going to another city to perform where they will have other problems to worry about (I think they will be back at around two in the morning). Yes, there will be Beethoven in the programme (and other composers that I failed to memorize, I think one of them was Haydn?). I would be thrilled if you excepted what I have to offer, you've certainly noticed when the concert will be held, and I wanted to do something special for you on that day.

Oh, and feel free to write back to me today! I'm staying over at my granny's until like nine. Also, I think that today is the only day I can receive your letters, sadly. Please tell me what you think about my offer! If you agree, please call me on the day itself so that we can discuss where to meet. This letter is getting pretty long, so I'd leave it at that.

Your dearest and best friend, Myrtle

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It took him some time to read all of this because of her messy handwriting, but it didn't take any of his feeling of bliss upon seeing and finishing reading it. At the same moment, he began rummaging through his room for a notebook to tear a sheet of paper from. Along with that, he'd need something to write with, preferably a pen. When he found his tools of trade, he sat at his desk and frantically began writing a reply. Since he didn't have any birthday plans with his family yet, he would most definitely be going with her. It would be good to go somewhere with her that wasn't Hogwarts. He'd notify his parents about this after sending the letter. The little owl couldn't wait for him all day to write the reply.

"Is everything all right there, Tom? You've been upstairs for quite a bit of time!", Eliza shouted from downstairs.

Oh, his mother and the cookies! The letter appeared to have taken hold of all his thoughts. Nevertheless, he did feel guilty for disappearing for so long in his room.

"Everything is fine, mum. I just need to take care of something, I'll be coming down soon.", he replied.

"Very well, I'll leave a few more cookies for you." she said as she walked away.

Now he had two sides which he rapidly needed to attend to. He resumed to writing the letter. Asking Myrtle how she was doing, wishing her a Merry Christmas and also asking about more details on her plan, given that the things she wrote in her letter about it were vague. But first he confirmed that he would be going with her there, of course. It was hard to think about what to write so fast and make sure that both his handwriting and the paper the letter was written on were tidy. Finally, after finishing writing the letter, he folded the paper over a few times and gave it to the small owl, which warmed up during the passed time. Opening the window, he watched as it flew away, soaring through the sky. While closing the window, though, he was met with the pleading eyes of his own owl.

No, he would not be dealing with this right now. It'll be let out later. Besides, it appeared to be giving him that expression in order to look desperate, which he obviously did not buy. Well, one could easily recognize familiar behavior, considering he'd done this to multiple people in the past.

And so, despite the pleading look from his owl, he folded Myrtle's letter, putting it in a nearby drawer and then proceeded to exited his room. Soon after, the owl's expression turned grumpy. Sneaky as always, that little devil...

When he entered the kitchen, he found his mother leaning against the counter, waiting for him.

"Sorry for this, mum. Nothing was wrong with the owl, it was just making noise because another owl showed up in front of my window. It had a letter and was sent by Myrtle, I couldn't let it stay here for long, so I had to reply to her immediately.", he explained, grabbing the piping bag he left near the cookies.

"No need to apologize, Tom, those are great news! I told you she would respond sometime...", she said with a smile.