- Rating:
- PG-13
- House:
- The Dark Arts
- Characters:
- Other Canon Witch
- Genres:
- Angst Historical
- Era:
- 1850-1940
- Stats:
-
Published: 06/20/2006Updated: 06/20/2006Words: 1,252Chapters: 1Hits: 497
Death of Merope
Ampersand Ellipsis
- Story Summary:
- This is how my mind filled in the missing details of Dumbledore's conversation with Mrs. Cole. Rated PG-13 for subject matter.
Chapter 01
- Posted:
- 06/20/2006
- Hits:
- 497
Merope Gaunt Riddle picked her way carefully through the alleys of London.
I really thought maybe he loved me, she told herself for the thousandth time, her heart aching at the thought.
She wiped the tears streaming from her eyes as she looked for the place she had heard her father speak about. Surely they would buy the locket and allow her another day of food.
The baby kicked painfully and she collapsed against the wall. When the pain subsided she looked up and saw the sign "The Leaky Cauldron."
This is it, she told herself and quickly gathered her thin, ragged cloak more tightly about her as she stumbled through the door.
I must be a sight, she thought, flushing slightly, as the customers looked up to see her. Nine months' pregnant and soaked to the skin. Can they tell I don't belong here? she thought desperately.
"You want something?" The bartender asked her roughly.
Merope felt her throat go dry and was unable to answer. Finally getting control of her voice she gasped, "Borgin and Burkes?"
The bartender's eyes narrowed for a moment. Then he grunted and nodded towards the back.
Merope made her way clumbsily through the tables and to the back, entering a small courtyard. Again, the pain in her stomach overcame her and she fell. This time, however, she was caught by a tall, thin man wearing a purple cloak and black, high-heeled, buckled boots.
"Be careful there, madam," said the man. "You nearly met the floor. Surely there are better places for you to sit?" He said this in a pleasant voice as he picked her up and set her on her feet.
Merope looked at him with her mouth open, not believing the kindness this perfect stranger was showing her. Suddenly anger welled up in her and she glared at the man and hissed, "Just show me how to get to Borgin and Burkes."
If this outburst surprised the man, he did not let on. He simply smiled benignly and with a twinkle in his blue eyes, he held out his arm and said, "Well then, I shall delay you no longer. Let us be off."
Merope grudgingly took his arm and followed him through the brick wall and down a few narrow streets. He stopped in front of a store with a large window. Inside Merope could see a thatch-haired man walking around inside the store. He reminded her of the sheep dogs she had seen near her father's house.
"Here we are and not a moment too soon," said the man genially. "I certainly hope you find what you are looking for. Shall I wait and accompany you back?"
Merope pulled her hand away from his arm and said bitterly, "Certainly not. I can take care of myself."
He simply smiled at her again, bowed, and said, "Very well. I wish you the best and may Merlin watch over you. Thank you kindly for allowing me to be of some small service to you, madam. Good evening." With a swish of his cloak he was gone.
Merope tried in vain to brush her hair out of her face and entered the shop. The small bell attached to the door tinkled as the door swung shut. The man looked up from the skull he was holding, took in her bedraggled appearance and sneered. She quickly removed the locket from her neck and said, "This was Salazar Slytherin's. What will you give me for it?"
The man put the skull down and reached lazily to take the locket from her hands. He moved slowly through the crowded store to the counter at the back. At first his face showed scoffing, but as he turned the locket over to inspect it closer, tapping it with his wand, his face melted into disbelief, then greed and finally back to his original sneer.
"Well madam," he said smoothly, "a piece as old as this is surely not worth upwards of 10 galleons."
Relief showed on Merope's face and she gasped, "That will be fine."
She gratefully pocketed the money and made her way quickly back through Knockturn Alley, pushing her way through the happy Christmas shoppers in Diagon Alley and back through the brick gateway.
She bought some sandwiches from the restaurant and went back out into the cold, wet night.
* * *
The days faded into one another as Merope wandered from street to street looking for food and a place to rest. She was exhausted and starving. After much searching, she had finally found a building with iron gates and a small courtyard. There was a niche near the basement where the boiler room was and she curled up there to sleep. At a nearby restaurant she would find some food occasionally left carelessly in the trash and ate it gratefully.
One night the pain in her abdomen returned, this time without ceasing. She made her way to the front of the building and collapsed on the stairs, crying out in pain. The door opened and a woman near her age came out to retrieve her.
An hour later, Merope was laying upstairs, still in pain. The baby was close to being delivered. Feverish, she lapsed in and out of consciousness. As she writhed in pain, her mind filled with images of the last year...
Tom, bewitched by her, dancing with her, kissing her breathless and speaking words known only to lovers. What wonderful days those were...
That memory slid into the next: Merope's just discovered she's pregnant and she and Tom rejoice together when she tells him the happy news...
As the pregnancy progresses, Merope can no longer live with the guilt and releases her husband from the spell, telling him everything she's done. Enraged, he throws her to the floor and leaves. Heartsick, she returns to her father's house and makes do. When the money and the food run out, she makes her way to London...
She is brought back to the cold sting of reality as she enters the final stage of delivering her child.
"Push!" says the woman.
"Tom," Merope cries out.
"Push!" the woman repeats.
"Father," screams Merope.
Suddenly her screams are not the only ones piercing the night as the baby is born.
"It's a boy," she hears the woman say happily.
"I hope he looks like his papa," she murmurs.
"Yes," says the woman. "Yes, he is a handsome boy." A good thing, too, the woman adds to herself.
Relief floods through Merope. "Good," she sighs and falls back into her pillow. "His name is Tom. Tom Riddle after his father."
"Yes, of course," says the woman.
Merope, looks at the baby boy held in front of her. She closes her eyes and says, "And Marvolo, after my father."
"Yes," says the woman.
The fever has taken over Merope and she falls unconscious... Again she finds herself dancing with Tom in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the windows. There would never be an end to days such as these, she tells herself happily. He loves me and that's all that matters...
The woman has turned to the table and is cleaning the baby. She speaks quickly and quietly to her assistant, handing her the child. The assistant takes him down the hallway to the nursery. The woman leaves the room and makes her way down to her office to write down the young Tom's name and birth information.
Merope takes one last shallow breath and breathes out, "Tom."