Merope felt as though she were floating. She looked around to see that she was standing in the middle of a lush green valley. The sky was so blue that there wasn�t a cloud above her head. To one side, she could see a small hill, on top of which stood a beautiful grand house. To her other side she could see some horses playing about. She instantly recognized the dark mustang that Tom had ridden in on that fateful morning when she�d slipped him the potion. The scenery was very picturesque.
�I can�t be here,� she thought as she stood in the middle of the field. She then felt a presence right beside her. She turned around to see a lovely young man with jet-black hair standing by her side. He looked exactly like her love, but just a bit younger.
�Tom? Can it be?�
He did not answer or acknowledge her presence. He just stood there with a determined look on his face as he stared at the house on the hill. Merope reached out to touch his face, but his image just slipped through her fingers.
�I must be dreaming, then,� she said, with a bit of disappointment. The young man moved from her and started to make his way to the house. Merope followed closely behind him.
They made their way to the front entrance, where the boy proceeded to knock on the door. The maid who answered greeted the young man with a smile. But as she looked at him more fully an awed expression arose on her face.
�I�ve come to see Tom Riddle � Senior,� he said in a very controlled tone.
�Yes, dear. Right this way,� she said. The maid couldn�t keep her eyes off him as she led the way to the drawing room. If she could have said something, she would have mentioned his remarkable resemblance to the man he was about to meet. Being a servant, she must have known that it wasn�t her place to make such comments no matter how obvious it was. But Merope could see that it was on the tip of her tongue.
There was much discussion going on as they entered. There were two men, one older than the other, and an old woman sitting on the couch. The topic of the hour was horses. But all that ceased when the young man appeared.
�You have a visitor, sir,� the maid said, then slowly backed out of the room, leaving the four there.
There he was, Thomas Riddle, the man who had so proudly called her his wife. He was much older now, but the years had certainly been kind to him. He was still very attractive. Tears welled in Merope�s eyes as she looked at her husband�s face. She tried to touch him, too, but she felt the same frustration as his image passed between her fingers. She looked to the boy and wondered if he could be her son. Had the baby she was carrying now grown up to be the young man she saw before her? She stood next to him as he looked to the people across the room.
The mood had significantly changed upon his arrival. There was tension all around the room. Merope could feel it between her husband and the older couple. She also recognized the surge of anger that was emanating from the young man. However, he didn�t let his emotions come to the surface. He just stood there taking it all in. Her husband and the older man looked at each other. The older man had a very stern expression on his face when he looked at his son.
�Thomas Riddle, what is the meaning of this?� the older man finally said. Merope noticed that her husband kept a stiff look on his face, but his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. It was a sight she was not use to seeing from him.
The uncomfortable silence grew more with the escalating tension.
�Young man, what is your name?� said the older woman from the couch.
�Thomas Riddle, ma�am. Thomas Marvolo Riddle,� the young man said with the same controlled tone. Merope stood there feeling bowled over. She couldn�t believe her eyes. The young man was her son!
�Marvolo?� the woman said in a pious tone. �Is your � mother � with you, young man?�
�No, she isn�t. I�ve been told that my mother is dead. I have been living in an orphanage in London,� he said.
Merope couldn�t believe her ears, �Dead?� Merope felt herself panic but she tried to keep in mind that this was all a dream. �I�m dreaming. This isn�t real,� she kept repeating to herself.
�Heavens! An orphanage!� the woman yelled out. Her face suddenly went pale and she started to hyperventilate. The older gentlemen tried to fan her with the hat he was holding. His son and grandson just stood there eyeing each other as the commotion ensued. Once the older man got the woman under control, he turned to his son and straightened his face.
�You said that it was finished! When you came home after your romp with THAT WOMAN you said that it was DONE! You said that you would have nothing to do with her and that she was out of our lives for good! YOU SAID IT WAS OVER, COMPLETE, AND DONE WITH! AND NOW THIS SCANDAL ENTERS OUR HOME!� The man turned beet red as he finished his statement.
He continued, �It was BAD ENOUGH you ran off with that CREATURE on the eve of your wedding to Cecilia. THE PEOPLE IN THE VILLIAGE THOUGHT YOU HAD GONE MAD TO CHOOSE THAT WOMAN OVER HER! They thought madness ran in our family and that we were going to have a house full of IDIOTS or CIRCUS FREAKS!� The man was now turning a dark shade of magenta as he came to the end of his sentence. He was so livid that he looked like he would suffer a stroke if he continued.
His son stood there with the same stiff expression on his face, although it was changing to a deeper shade of red just like his father�s. It was a side of him that Merope found very hard to take. But as she looked at her son, she noticed that he was still standing there, showing no emotion as he watched his father being shouted at.
�Well, Darling, the boy doesn�t look like that wretched beast of a mother,� the older woman said in an arrogant tone. That hit a nerve with Merope. She knew she wasn�t pretty, but to be called beastly was a bit much.
�THE POINT IS that this family barely survived the humility and the shame of your son�s poor choices! NOW, just when we are beginning to wipe the mud from our name, UP COMES HIS BASTARD CHILD!�
�Well again, Darling, they were married. So technically the boy is not a bastard,� the older woman spoke again.
�WOMAN, YOU ARE NOT HELPING!� The old man�s veins bulged from his collar as he turned his attention to his wife.
The three of them fell into a huge row. Merope could scarcely tell what they were saying, since they were shouting so loudly at each other. But she knew it had to do with the boy and his presence there. She could see that her husband was doing a poor job of defending himself. Despite how he had abandoned her, she couldn�t help but feel pity for him in this situation.
Merope looked at her son. She noticed that he was standing there, still showing no signs of emotion. However, she could feel the deep-rooted anger brewing within him as he watched his father and grandparents argue.
�BUT SHE�S A WITCH!� Tom the Second spoke up. �I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING WITH HER! SHE HAD ME AS HER CAPTIVE UNDER HER SPELL. I DIDN�T KNOW ��
�Even if that were true, how STUPID do you think you�d look to fall for something like that? My son, the heir to my legacy, would so easily succumb to the spells of a WITCH! Is that what you�d have this town think? Why, you would look as crazy as that oaf brother of hers who lives across the valley! That lunatic goes around saying that his family is of �pure blood� and we are not even fit to walk this earth.� The man took a moment to help himself to some whiskey. �Pure blood! The nerve of him! And you can clearly see the inches of filth that have accumulated on him! And then he goes around calling us Mubbles or Bubbles ��
�Muggles,� Tom Marvolo Riddle said calmly.
Silence again filled the room as the hostilities started to reach their breaking point. Everyone finally turned their attention to the topic of their conversation.
�Are you sassing me, boy?� the old man asked with this menacing look on his face.
�No, Sir,� Tom said in a very dry tone. �The correct way to pronounce it is Muggle.�
�Muggle?� the old man said with a slight laugh. �And what would you know about that, boy?�
�Well, seeing that your son slept with my mother, and you so fondly call her a witch, then that would make me the son of a witch. Although I�ve heard the term used a bit differently and quite loosely among others. But I suppose we won�t go there since we are having a polite conversation.� He looked into his grandfather�s eyes without a hint of fear as he spoke. This infuriated the old man even more. He threw his glass of whiskey to the floor and walked straight over to his grandson. He looked ready to choke the life out of the young man. Merope tried to step in his way but saw how futile her efforts were, since this was just a dream. But that�s when everything went from bad to worse � much worse.
The old man took a few more steps � then stopped.
Everything went still until Tom Junior stepped out of the man�s path. The old man remained frozen in his position. Merope could see a wand in the boy�s hand as he walked away from his grandfather. She realized that he must have used a spell to Petrify him. She was amazed that he could be so young and able to perform a spell without saying a word. She felt very proud but then a little disturbed as she looked at the boy�s wand. It looked like the same wand her brother had used whenever he felt like torturing her.
�It can�t be!� she said to herself as she looked at the long object in his hands. �I must be dreaming! He couldn�t have gotten hold of that!� She tried to wake up but couldn�t. Her mind was trapped as she was made to watch these unfolding events.
�BY JOVE! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU�RE DOING?� cried out the woman.
�Reconciling myself of my past,� said Tom Junior as he waved his wand to silence his grandmother. The woman tried to protest but found that she was speechless. She glanced to her son with a frightened look on her face; he looked back at her, also alarmed. Tom Junior just stood there between his father and grandmother, looking from one to the other.
�You know, for quite some time I�ve grown up thinking that my father was someone great and powerful. I thought my name, however ordinary it is, might be something meaningful since I was named after him. So after searching in vain I came up with nothing extraordinary about Mr. Thomas Riddle the Second. And as I�m standing here now, I can clearly see how truly powerful my father isn�t.� Tom Junior still remained calm as he walked over to the broken glass that his grandfather had smashed to the floor. He waved the wand over the mess, causing the pieces to rematerialize back to normal. He then tapped the glass so that he could take a sip of water. With his thirst quenched, he continued with his story.
�So I set out to find some information about my mother, to see how great her lineage was. And I was right. Her descendents were some of the most powerful people (witches and wizards) that history has ever seen. But alas, that luster has worn over the years, leaving that oaf across the valley as the last of my ties to that great family.�
�So now I�ve resolved myself to the fact that for me to make my mark in this world, I must set my own path to greatness. But I see that I cannot do that being connected to such weakness.� Tom Junior raised his wand again and pointed it at the old man. A green flash of light jetted from the wand to strike a mighty blow to his old body.
His grandfather hit the floor dead.
The old woman�s mouth gaped wide open. If she had been making noise, she would have given a high-pitched scream. But under the circumstances, all she could do was sit there with tears streaming down her face as she silently shouted for her husband.
Merope stood there mortified. She again tried desperately to wake but her mind and body would not do what she commanded. She knew she wasn�t just dreaming. As much as this was a nightmare, she knew it was something more than a mere set of coincidences. She saw her son advance on his grandmother. Merope tried to grab him, but again she met with the same results. She looked to her husband, trying to yell at him to do something. But he could not hear her. All he could do was stand there and cower in fear.
�I�ve heard stories of grandmothers showering their grandchildren with love and affection. But from the moment I darkened your doorway you have showed me nothing but arrogance and contempt,� Tom Junior said. When he raised his wand this time, it did not kill the woman instantly as it had her husband. But she would wish it had.
Merope was familiar with the pain that the old woman was now feeling. Her brother had performed the same spell plenty of times to punish her or just to get a good laugh. Yet she could see that the boy was more precise as he performed the Cruciatus. He had conviction in his anger, which made the recipient of the curse succumb to much more agonizing pain. Merope could tell that Mrs. Riddle was screaming at the top of her lungs despite no sound passing from her. Her eyes were bulging from her head and she was running out of breath. Tom Senior remained paralyzed in fear as he watched his mother go through the agony. Finally the young man released the curse over his grandmother so that she could breathe.
He focused his sights on his father.
Merope tried again to move in the boy�s path, but he just went right through her. She crumbled into a fit of tears as the boy approached the man. Tom Senior tried to run, but the boy�s power was so great that he stopped him right in his tracks. Then he levitated his body back into place.
�There�s no running away from me this time, Father,� the boy said, still as calm as ever.
�My boy � MY SON, I had no idea! Your mother said she was A WITCH! She said that she used a spell � a- a- a POTION ... YES! She said that she had used a love potion to seduce me all the time we were together! I thought she was lying when she told me -� With a wave of Tom Junior�s wand, Tom Senior had no voice. Tom Junior just stared at his father, calculating his next move.
�Part of me would have preferred that you say she was just some whore and you were a John fulfilling a business transaction of sorts, like whores and Johns do. That would be almost acceptable since we, as men, have ugly needs. Sometimes ugly people satisfy those ugly needs. But to bring love into this in the form of a potion is laughable and almost ironic. Love is supposed to be something strong, binding, and never-ending. Loves does not leave and isn�t suppose to die. When the woman told you that she was having your child, you did not feel honor-bound to her or feel any obligation to the child she was carrying. So why bring love into this at all?�
With a twist of his hand his father was shaking in agony.
�The point of I�m trying to make is this: Even if she were lying, why didn�t you have the decency to go back and check to see if she was telling the truth? After all, you had been sleeping with her. You and Mother were married. The marriage was consummated. Common sense says that the odds were in favor of her being with child.�
Another twist of the boy�s hand, and his father surrendered to more anguish.
Merope tried even harder to wake up, but she still couldn�t. Feeling loss and nearing a state of hysteria, she fell to her knees pleading with her son�s image, �Please �please don�t! HAVE MERCY ON HIM � please! HAVE MERCY! He�s innocent! HE�S INNOCENT! He did not know! He wasn�t in control! It was my fault, MY FAULT! PLEASE DON�T! I LOVE HIM! I LOVE HIM! PLEASE!� Merope begged her child to spare his father, but he wouldn�t listen. He couldn�t hear her.
�I think that any man worth his soul � even an inch of his soul � would never knowingly leave his child behind, regardless of how he felt about the mother. Any man of good standing would have the fortitude to raise his child in spite of the circumstances of how that child got here. But I can see that this is not the case with you. And right now, your soul is worthless to me.� Tom Junior raised his wand, ready to strike, but he stopped when he saw that his father was trying to say something.
�But I didn�t know,� he said.
�Well, now you do,� said his son.
The familiar green light appeared. With one final wave of the wand, he killed his father and grandmother instantly.
It was done. He had killed them all.
The last of the Riddles were left in that room � and they were all dead.
Except for the one who walked out the door without turning back.
