All the Time in the World

Chapter Fourteen

Harry removed the cloak and adjusted his glasses.

"Ready?" He asked Ron.

Ron nodded. He looked a bit pale, but his voice was steady.

"As I'll ever be."

They strode up the path to the Riddle House. Harry was not certain if this was a good plan. But he had no idea what else to do. He'd  tried to pin the device on himself and spoken his name, but nothing had happened.

Harry had thought the device had brought them here because they were supposed to do something. And he could not think of anything.

The two of them looked at each other and then Harry rang the bell. They were both dressed as muggles. Harry had found that the wizard money that had been in his pocket had changed to the muggle currency of that time. So he and Ron had got some muggle clothing and also took a room in the local inn. Harry got some newspapers which had given them the date.

"January 1932?" Ron had panicked.

"I don't know," muttered Harry. "Voldemort must be what? Six? So we're not here to stop him from being born."

"As if Merope would send us back for that!" Scoffed Ron. "Wait a minute, you said his father lived in that big house you saw?"

Harry had nodded.

"And he'd never attempted to find out what happened to Merope or the baby."

Harry had shaken his head slowly. "No..." he had looked at Ron. "I think you're right. I think we're here to convince Tom Riddle to take his son back."

Ron had been sceptical of the chances of Tom Riddle Sr. listening to two school boys, but had agreed it was worth a try. What had they to lose anyway?

Harry came out of his musings as the door was opened by a butler who looked at them with a supercilious frown. Harry told them they were there to meet Mr. Tom Riddle. The butler let them in, asked them to wait and went to fetch the Young Master.

The house screamed money. The carpets were expensive, the paintings that hung on the wall were obviously expensive and the furnishings and furniture were all silk and velvet.

"And who are you two?" A drawling voice said from the living room door. Tom Riddle Sr. stood there, his brows furrowed.

"We.." Harry paused, choosing carefully what words to use. "We have something of a personal nature to discuss with you. It's about your wife."

Riddle's handsome face held an ugly expression as soon as Harry mentioned his wife. But he mastered himself.

"Come into the library," said he, tightly as he led them into another room on the side.

"We won't be requiring any refreshments," he snapped at the butler just before banging the library door closed.

Harry was strongly reminded of the Malfoys.

He turned to them. "How much?"

"What?" Asked Harry, surprised.

"How much for your silence regarding my wife?" he spoke the last word viciously.

"You think we're here to blackmail you?"

"What else?"

"We're here because of your son," snapped Harry. "We don't want your money. And your wife is dead, for your information."

"Dead?" Riddle looked relieved.

"Yes, but you have a son," said Ron.

"The brat is not mine," said Riddle flatly. "I'm not able to have kids. My doctor has confirmed it. Why do you think I'm not married yet?"

"Well, this child is yours," said Harry, as he thrust a piece of paper at Riddle who took it automatically. "That is the address where you'll find him."

Riddle stared at that paper. "He's in an orphanage?"

"Your wife died in childbirth," said Harry. "Your son has been in that orphanage since birth. Perhaps its time he had a change."

Riddle raised his eyes from the paper. "It can't be," said he. "I told you I can't have a son. It's not possible."

But Harry could hear the undercurrent of hope in his voice.

"Mr. Riddle," said he. "Go and see him. Just see him. If you feel he's not yours," Harry shrugged. "But what would it hurt?"

Tom Riddle nodded. "All right."

He rang the bell. "Dennis will show you out."