Chapter One

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"Could you be possibly feeling sorry for Lord Voldemort?"
Harry stared at Dumbledore, aghast. Sorry for Voldemort? He most emphatically was not. The one he felt sorry for was the infant whom Merope had not lived for. The infant who had to grow up in a loveless environment because his mother cared more for her pain than his. Who knew, if things were different, how Tom Riddle might have turned out.
He shook off his thoughts and said quickly. "No, but she had a choice, didn't she, not like my mother-"
"Your mother had a choice, too," Dumbledore's tone was gentle. "Yes, Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not judge her too harshly, Harry. She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother's courage."
"I still feel sorry for the baby." Muttered Harry.
Dumbledore's smile was entirely too understanding.
As he climbed under his sheets that night, Harry wondered how Tom Riddle might have been had his mother not died. Merope might have been poor, but she was capable of great love. He felt certain of it. But she had chosen an end to her own pain rather than to fight for her infant son. Dumbledore had said he should not compare her with his own mother, but Harry could not help it. Lily Potter too had sacrificed her life, but she did it to save her own son. Merope on the other hand gave upon life to escape her own pain, condemning her son to a life of loneliness, which in turn turned him into the monster called Voldemort.
A muffled sob came from near the window and Harry sat up, his heart hammering. Cautiously he peeped from behind the hangings. The dormitory was silent and empty. None of the others were awake. He let the hangings fall and settled himself on his pillows when he heard it again.
It was unmistakably a sob and it seemed to be coming from the door. Harry got up cautiously, picked up his wand and moved to the door. The night was cold and goosebumps broke out on his bare arms. After a moment, Harry took his invisibility cloak as well. Covering himself with it, he moved to the door.
He could hear the sobs clearly now. He looked towards Ron's bed, wondering if he should wake him. Then he shrugged. He could handle this. It just was someone crying. It could not be worse than all that he had faced till now.
Gripping his wand hard, and making sure, his cloak has fully covered him, he cast a whispered "Lumos" before opening the door. The corridor leading to the dormitory was empty. But he could still hear the sobs. They seemed to be coming from the common room. Harry did not hesitate, but he was cautious. He made no noise as he moved towards the common room.
Stealthily he climbed down the stairs and stared around in confusion. The common room was empty. Harry frowned. The sobs were gone too. All was quiet. Had he imagined the whole thing? He regretted not waking Ron.
Then he heard it again. A sob, full of sorrow as if someone was crying their heart out. But he still could not see anyone. Was someone else in an invisibility cloak in the common room? Cautiously, he slipped off the cloak.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" He whispered, not wanting to wake any of his mates.
There was a ripple in the air before him and a figure appeared. Harry had seen enough ghosts since his first year in Hogwarts that he knew   that the figure was a ghost. It appeared even less substantial than the ghosts at Hogwarts. And it was sobbing quite loudly now.
"I'm sorry," the ghost whispered through sobs. "I did not mean to wake you. I could not help crying."
But Harry was not listening. He was staring dumbfounded at the apparition before him. For, he had recognized it.
The ghost of Merope Riddle sniffled as she looked at Harry with watery eyes.

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