The Years of Riddle

Chapter Six | London, June 1994

Chapter Six

London, June 1944

Gwyn Phi made her way through the crowds of London, tugging at her dress nervously; she had managed to convince the patrons it was suitable for a girl her age. It was simple, really; a delicate pattern of blue flowers on a lovely cream. They were suspicious as to where she'd found it, but convincing them a rich woman trying to do good had given it to her seemed to do the trick.

In reality a rich women would never try to do good for a girl like Gwyn. She was far too plain and freckled, her coppery hair too curly and brown eyes to big for the rest of her tiny features. No one looked twice at Gwyn. No, Gwyn would steal and make her own clothes if she were to be noticed – and she would be. Eventually.

Standing impatiently just inside the train station, Gwyn bounced on her toes. Who here could be a wizard? Anyone really – how thrilling!

After what seemed like forever, there he was. Tall, pale and handsome. Frowning, grouchy, but home. "Tom!" she called, jumping and waving. A tired smile stretched across his face.

She ran to Tom, hugging him tightly; he patted her back and grimaced.

"Gwyn."

"Oh Tommy, I've missed you so much!" she gushed, holding onto his hands.

"Ah – yeah." Glancing around worriedly, he tugged her towards the exit. "C'mon, let's go."

They walked onto the street, quickly ducking back into alleys and side streets. They had walked for twenty minutes or so when Gwyn became impatient. She wanted Tom to notice her, see the effort she'd put into her appearance. For him.

"What do you think?" Gwyn asked, swishing the skirt of her dress, beaming.

"Of what?" Tom barely glanced at her.

"My dress, Tom." She said, exasperated.

"Oh." He glanced at it. "Lovely."

"Tom –"

"Listen, Gwyn. I've decided I will be going by a new name."

Gwyn frowned, confused. "Whatever do you mean? You have a name."

"It's so...common." He spat. "Voldemort is my name now, and you will call me that."

They ducked into an alley that would take them to Wool's street. "That's not a very nice name. Wouldn't you prefer something respectable, like Tom is?"

Suddenly Tom had her by her wrists, pinning her to the dirty wall. "You will call me Voldemort." He hissed. "Tom is dead to me, and you will be too unless you listen."

Wincing at his tone, Gwyn was unable to move, pressed up against the wall. "Tom –"

"Gwyn, I will leave and never come back." He threatened. "You hear me?"

She nodded meekly. "Yes To – Voldemort."

Letting her go slowly, Tom breathed heavily. "Good. Let's go."

Following him, a few paces behind all the while, tears slipped down Gwyn's cheeks and onto her new dress.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but it's been a busy month or so with culminatings, exams, productions, etc. 

Question: Hmm...Tom has never been violent with Gwyn before. Thoughts?

Rose