'𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬.'
'𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.'
Those were the words that Cordelia Alder lived by, those words reminded her how precious life is and those were the words that Tom Riddle remembered the day he died, until he...
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16th July 1938, London
"So you're leaving?" A silvery voice questioned as the fog in her vision began to clear.
Like ink spots on paper, the scene in front of her appeared slowly, seeping into her field of vision.
"I thought you really enjoyed working here? I remember you even asked all the Professors for a recommendation letter—not that you needed one—to work here and now you're leaving?" A woman with mousy strawberry blonde hair and bright forest green eyes appeared in front of her.
A dimly lit stone corridor with only two people. Light chatter in the background behind the many closed doors but no one dared to venture closer to the two women leaned against the cold stone walls.
A sigh left her lips and she removed a cheap metal pin from her hair before pocketing it into her skirt. "I'm not leaving because I hate it here or I don't enjoy working here, I just..." The cheap metal pin felt heavy in her pocket but not as heavy as the ring around her finger. A family heirloom of his, he had said. "He proposed to me and I don't know what to do, Poppy."
Forest green orbs grew bigger in shock and Poppy didn't know whether to congratulate her friend or frown and say something rude so she only gave her a polite smile. "Oh. That's...wonderful."
Poppy bit her painted red lips and looked around before pulling her friend's sleeve and bringing her closer. "But you told us that you...and he had an argument about...his..." She hesitated a little. "About his...activities in Albania." Poppy lowered tone to a whisper and pulled her friend closer. "I mean he is working at Borgin and Burkes. Mia told me that the shop is notorious for selling dark artefacts."
She couldn't exactly refute those claims. Poppy was right and everyone knew it as well. "I know. I should've known from the beginning but I wanted...I wanted to believe that—"
"I understand." Poppy placed a comforting hand on her shoulders and patted her. "But I don't understand why you took him back and why you're leaving. Just because you're getting married doesn't mean you have to leave us and this job—you wanted this!"
"I'm not getting married."
Poppy pulled her friend into another corner and looked up at her with wide eyes. "Then what are—"
"I think I'm going to leave for America or Australia." The ring on her finger felt heavy, weighing her down like a shackle. She took it off and placed it in Poppy's hands. "I can't marry him. I can't spend my life in fear and watch him turn into someone like the man who killed my family."
Poppy's face crumbled and she started shaking her head as a wave of sadness and fear washed over her. "I can't. I can't do this. You know his friends don't like people like me."
"I know, I'm being selfish but I need you to send it back to him in the mail. I just can't be the one to do this."
She turned around and tried to leave but Poppy grabbed her arm. Poppy's hands were cold, deathly cold and she couldn't help but shiver at her touch. "So you're running away?"
