Originally Posted on AO3 December 2023
One-Shot
When Tom is six years old, a woman visits the orphanage he has lived his entire life in to take a look at the children.
When Tom turns seven years of age, mother starts having him help around the mortuary.
Tom is eleven when the man in purple robes visits their home to personally deliver a letter to him.
Tom is thirteen and thinks his life is cursed.
Tom is sixteen years old when he kills someone for the first time. It is an accident.
Tom graduates at eighteen and realises for the first time that neither mother nor Maeri have aged a day since he first met them. They haven't changed at all.
Tom gets adopted by a necromancer. He doesn't think his life actually changed for the better.
AN
I usually don't write in present tense, but found it more fitting for this peculiar thing of a fic.
1933
When Tom is six years old, a woman visits the orphanage he has lived his entire life in to take a look at the children. Tom cannot imagine why anyone would willingly visit this dreary place and even less why anyone would want to look at any of the children living here. Times are hard and no one wants to adopt an extra mouth to feed when times are hard.
When Tom is called from his room to line up with the other children at the woman's request, he feels like some shabby, second-hand trinket on display for sale at a flea market. It is not a joyous affair. Getting his first look at the woman, herself, Tom thinks she might just feel the same.
The woman is dressed all in black in what appears to be some rather old-fashioned dress one might have worn to a funeral several decades ago – complete with a hat that is merely missing the customary veil. Her hair is all white, as are her eyes, yet her skin is almost free of wrinkles. The woman is looking right at Tom over the rim of the black folding fan she is holding in her left hand. It feels as if she is seeing right through him.
Dread pools in Tom's stomach.
The woman's eyes narrow and Tom thinks she might be smiling behind her fan.
And then she snaps her fan closed, opens her mouth and says, "This one will do."
The matron doesn't make a fuss.
Tom will only wonder about this later, once he will have had time to settle in and think back on the events that brought him to that dreadful house.
Times are hard, yes, but no random woman in a funeral dress can simply visit the orphanage and decide to take a child home just like that. Tom knows there are procedures that need to be followed, paperwork to fill out. All of the children he watched being adopted over the years had to wait patiently for whatever the adults were doing to be completed and sometimes an adoption wouldn't even go through for one reason or another.
The woman in the funeral dress takes him home that very same day, not even an hour after seemingly choosing him at random. (Tom knows it wasn't random. Tom knows she saw something in him the other children don't have.)
The woman hails a cab to bring them to a dingy pub in the heart of London. The sign above the door reads 'Leaky Cauldron'. Tom notes with interest that none of the people walking by so much as spare a glance in its direction.
The pub is just as dark and shabby inside as outside, but that is not what sets it apart. (Not that Tom has ever been inside a pub before.) It is the people that make Tom perk up and pay attention. While the woman who has apparently adopted him goes to speak with the bartender to exchange some coins for a small bowl filled with green powder, Tom takes in every oddity he can find.
All of the patrons are wearing odd clothes that make the woman's funeral dress seem almost normal in comparison. One or two have pointed hats with wide brims adorning their heads and if Tom didn't know better, he would think them to be witches. He can see newspapers with moving pictures. He can see spoons adding sugar to cups of coffee and tea and then stirring the liquid all by themselves. He can see things he lacks the vocabulary to describe.
When the woman who has apparently adopted him throws the green powder she bought from the bartender into the fireplace and tells him to step into the now green flames, he has almost convinced himself this might even be real.
The world spins and spins around him, the colours blurring, his nose and throat burning from the hot ashes and then it all stops and he tumbles out of a fireplace in what appears to be a … house. An ordinary house.
He turns his head to take a look around and his eyes fall on a girl standing in front of the fireplace, with two pigtails that seem impossibly thick and fluffy to Tom, wearing a black dress not unlike that of the woman who brought him here. The girl cannot be much older than him than a few years, yet there is something about her that makes Tom feel as if she is actually ancient. Something that makes him feel seen in a very, very uncomfortable way. It's her eyes, he decides – her strikingly blue eyes, which are the same colour as the glass bead that dangles from a chain around her neck. While the glass bead looks like a proper eye, the girl's actual eyes are blue through and through and her pupil appears to be entirely white. The effect is haunting.
"This is Maeri," the woman who has adopted Tom introduces as she steps out of the fireplace behind him. (Tom mistakes the name for 'Meili' at first, but he soon learns better.)
He realises the woman still hasn't introduced herself and dares to ask for her name.
"I do not have a name," she replies and then seems to take a moment to think about it.
"You may call me 'mother'," she tells him eventually.
As Tom soon learns, 'mother' and the girl called Maeri live in what appears to be a mortuary chapel right at the edge of an actual graveyard of all things. Tom would have expected someone like 'mother' to own a cemetery rather than associate with the church, but he cannot find it in himself to be surprised at the realisation that the woman's occupation is to prepare the dead for their burials.
He wonders, at the end of the day, when he has settled down in the room that he can now call his, how his life has come to this.
o
1934
When Tom turns seven years of age, mother starts having him help around the mortuary.
He has had almost a year to get used to his new home and its inhabitants. There are no children in this house, for even Tom isn't treated like one and it is both pleasant and unpleasant of an experience. There are many things he still has to teach himself that he would not have had to learn at the orphanage on the virtue of being a child still, but Tom is fine with this. It is a challenge he has vowed not to lose.
Getting used to the inhabitants of the place is still proving to be difficult, however. He is not sure he has even met them all and he is fairly certain that Maeri is something that is only pretending to be human, because that is too many eyes and no being in existence should be allowed to have so many eyes.
Working in the mortuary is both easier than dealing with his home's inhabitants and worse than getting used to the daily life of the house. Tom would not call himself a squeamish person, yet he constantly has to fight down the urge to throw up whenever a new 'patron' arrives to be prepared for their burial. All he can do, really, is to tightly grip the nazar that Maeri gifted him for his first birthday spent at their home and to persevere.
It will get better with time, he tells himself. He still does not know why mother decided to take him home with her.
o
1938
Tom is eleven when the man in purple robes visits their home to personally deliver a letter to him. Tom has since learned that 'magic' is real and witches exist. For a reason mother does not seem to be willing to understand, men apparently call themselves 'wizards'.
Mother claims to not really be a witch despite wielding magic effortlessly and Maeri is, of course, something else entirely, but they know enough to explain the magical world to Tom when he asks. They have never taken him to actually see a part of it for himself, though.
When Tom brings the man who introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore and who is so clearly a wizard to mother, he is surprised to see the disdain flash across both of their faces almost exactly at the same time. He wonders what Maeri's reaction would look like, but she disappeared the moment there was a knock on the door. (But Tom knows she is watching.)
"My apologies," Dumbledore says. "I was under the impression Tom had been raised by Muggles, Mrs Riddle."
Mother's lips quirk upwards at the address, but she does not correct him. It is probably simpler that way, Tom thinks.
"He has been offered a place at Hogwarts, then?" mother asks.
"Indeed. Ah, where are my manners. I am Albus Dumbledore. I teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts.
"The famous Professor Dumbledore," mother says with a cheer that Tom is certain is fake. "We have heard many things about you."
Dumbledore smiles jovially, but it falls oddly flat. "Only good things, I hope."
"Of course," mother lies.
"Well, then. Since I am already here, are there any questions I might answer for you?" Dumbledore looks at Tom. "Either of you."
Tom looks at mother, who tilts her head. "Will there be a tuition fee that needs to be paid?"
"Not at all. The Ministry covers those. If you are struggling financially –"
"Oh, nothing of the sort. I was merely wondering. I do not have any other questions. Tom?"
Tom shakes his head.
"In that case –" and here Dumbledore hesitates. "I feel like I must mention that Necromancy is still considered illegal in this country and the Ministry of Magic will not hesitate to punish lawbreakers as befits the crime."
"Perfectly understandable," mother says as if working her magic of the dead weren't quite literally her entire profession. Mother quirks an eyebrow at Tom, as if asking whether he has a problem with that revelation. "Do you wish to go?"
"I – Yes." Tom nods eagerly, fighting down the excited flush on his cheeks, clutching the letter Dumbledore gave him closer to his chest. He cannot wait to get a respite from helping around the mortuary and actually learn proper magic instead. "I would very much like to learn at Hogwarts."
"Very well. You may write him down, then," mother says to Dumbledore. "I am afraid we do not own an owl we could use to send our reply."
"That is perfectly alright," Dumbledore says.
The man takes his leave not long after. Tom gets the impression he is rather glad to leave. The moment the door closes behind him, mother begins to laugh.
(Diagon Alley turns out to be exactly as Tom has imagined it and completely different from all the ways mother uses magic on the daily. Tom is not surprised in the least. He looks around the place and decides that he loves magic.)
o
1940
Tom is thirteen and thinks his life is cursed.
The Germans have – by accident no less – dropped bombs on Oxford Street and mother has decided to help take care of the bodies. They don't even live anywhere near London.
There are so many bodies to bury.
Tom is glad to return to Hogwarts in a few days. He is already dreading the winter holidays – staying at Hogwarts is not an option, because mother would be so disappointed.
Just as he begins his third year at Hogwarts, bombs start being dropped all over the country, London in particular. There is a great fire ravaging the big city right before his birthday. Burned bodies were not the present he was hoping for. The Easter holidays are no better.
(Tom wishes to never again have to hear the sickening crunch that came from Maeri when she…)
He cannot do anything but grip his nazar tightly and persevere.
(Tom is not surprised his nazar has never cracked in his tight grip.)
o
1942
When Tom is fifteen years old, mother takes him to witness one of Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald's famous speeches. Maeri decides to tag along.
Tom is captivated by the man, but cannot help but calculate all the flaws in his plans, the amount of time it would take for it all to fall apart should Grindelwald ever win his war. He wonders if he could do better.
He does not wonder why mother brought him here. He is not surprised when he ends up helping her take care of the bodies of the people who tried to assassinate the Dark Lord during the feast following his speech.
When Maeri decides to eat one of the bodies, Tom simply averts his eyes.
o
1943
Tom is sixteen years old when he kills someone for the first time. It is an accident. Technically, he does not even kill the girl, himself. She falls victim to Salazar Slytherin's monster. But Tom is the one who set it free and had it terrorise the school.
He looks at the body and he thinks of mother and he decides against using this opportunity to create a Horcrux. His hand closes around his nazar and he decides to give the girl a proper burial and no one will ever be the wiser.
(When he returns home that summer, mother already knows regardless.)
For his birthday that year, Maeri takes Tom to meet Morfin Gaunt and the Riddles. It does not go well. Tom feels no remorse killing all of them. He does not dwell on the fact that it feels oddly comforting to prepare their bodies for a funeral held by himself, attended only by mother, Maeri and the dead.
When mother makes an odd remark about the ugly ring Tom took from his uncle, he decides to gift it to her.
Tom has never seen mother smile like that.
o
1945
Tom graduates at eighteen and realises for the first time that neither mother nor Maeri have aged a day since he first met them. They haven't changed at all.
Until now, his holidays have always been full of dead things. The war is over now, but he doubts he will ever escape death when mother serves the very being.
He does not move out.
(As the war ends, so does Gellert Grindelwald's reign. Tom does not find himself surprised.)
o
1957
By the time Tom turns thirty, his once friends have all abandoned him, disappointed by his apparent lack of ambition, his failure in pursuing higher careers.
But they do not know that Tom has delved deeper into the mysteries of magic, has pushed the boundaries of magic further than they have ever been pushed.
And yet.
Each year still takes its toll on his body, leaves its mark in the wrinkles around his (once a dark brown, now scarlet) eyes.
Tom looks at mother and he continues on.
o
1970
Tom is forty-three when he finally cracks the mystery of immortality. Maeri is very happy for him.
Mother is not proud and Tom despairs.
(Later, it turns out Tom has not cracked the mystery of immortality at all.)
o
1981
When Tom is fifty-four, mother brings home an infant and the bodies of its parents and with them, a silvery cloak of the finest quality, a cloak that turns the wearer invisible.
(Tom is actually surprised that Maeri's many eyes can still see right through it. He knows the cloak is special. It seems Maeri is even more special than the cloak.)
Tom cannot help but stare at the ugly little thing. He can feel Maeri's many eyes (too many eyes) trained on it, as well. The boy has tufts of black hair growing on his head and when he opens his eyes, they are the most curious shade of green Tom has ever seen. They remind him of a curse mother does not approve of him using.
"How did his parents die?" Tom asks.
Mother smiles. "It was fate. Death has decreed it so."
Tom opens his mouth to speak and then decides against it.
He thinks he ought to feel bad for the infant – even more so when Maeri does not gift the ugly little thing a nazar on its first birthday with them the following year and he keeps getting glimpses of the eyes following the infant wherever it goes.
It does not come as a surprise to Tom that the task of raising the infant falls unto him. None of the house's inhabitants know how to care for a human baby. This includes Tom.
He wonders, not for the first time, why mother decided to take him home, and he decides to at least try to give the infant a better childhood than he had, himself.
Little Harry is a quiet child and Tom cannot help but grow attached to him. He is not sure he likes that.
o
1997
When Tom is seventy, Gellert Grindelwald dies in prison. Albus Dumbledore dies not long after.
There are rumours that he died of a broken heart, but Tom does not believe them. Mother finds the situation oddly amusing.
Around the same time, Tom notices a wand made of elder in the glass cabinet of their parlour, sitting next to the Gaunt Ring and the three Founders' Relics he gifted mother over the years.
Tom thinks he might have seen Gellert Grindelwald wield this very wand – or perhaps it was Albus Dumbledore. He cannot clearly remember, anymore.
Tom doesn't dwell on it.
o
1998
Tom is seventy-one. Little Harry will graduate this year. He has already decided to move out and travel the world to find his own way in life. Tom cannot decide whether to be proud or disappointed.
After his last (failed) attempt, Tom truly, finally, actually succeeds in his endeavours to attain true immortality.
Mother smiles, yet the victory rings oddly hollow.
The nazar Tom has cherished for so long finally cracks when he grips it too tightly.
AN
There is art accompanying this fic! A series of perfectly normal family portraits, no monsters to be seen here, just Tom and, uh ...
Art can be found on tumblr (just substitute the spaces with .): something-rotten tumblr com/post/736378279036059648/the-mysterious-life-of-tom-marvolo-riddle